#I had fun! And then I opened a can of worms with the slavery thing. Which led me to a book‚ which led to the Southern Baptists─

[for-the-writing-artist]

Keeping it in the tags for convenience.

I want to thank @for-the-writing-artist for being willing to have the discussion we did, but I think they're right that we've pretty much reached a point where we've covered all we'll be able to. In their last post on the matter, they indicated that they're not particularly interested in providing reasons to believe what they believe and I'm unable to adopt any belief without sufficient reason.

I still don't have any good reason to believe that lying is necessarily wrong, or that what the Bible says about god or Jesus is true, or that the Bible ever makes an outright statement that slavery is immoral, or that any interpretation of what the Bible says about anything else is more convincing than any other conflicting interpretation, or that any ancient understanding of morality should be preferred over our modern understanding, and it all boils down to evidence.

We're too far apart on these points and a few others to really continue without retreading the same topics over and over, but it seemed like they wanted some response to their last few points (forgive me if I'm wrong, it's not my intention to push on a topic you're finished discussing), so I'll give some brief notes. (Looking over the post before publishing, I should reconsider my use of the word "brief" lol)

> I get that the burden of proof lies on me, and I would be genuinely interested in your reasons for why God isn't real. But a discussion can only go so far in unequal footing.

It's absolutely correct that the burden of proof is on the person making the positive claim, and that's why I avoid claiming that gods aren't real. My position is that I'm unconvinced by any claim I've ever heard that a god or some gods exist, so I really don't need any other reason to reject them. There may be a god or some gods but I lack any good evidence to support the idea that they exist. I will admit that I have a strong bias against these claims - along with claims about angels, demons, ghosts, goblins, spirits, souls, cryptids, alien abductions, a flat earth, etc. - but that's because the reality itself is biased against these claims, yielding no definitive evidence that any of these things are possible or extant. But I still have these conversations because I want to believe true things, and if someone knows some demonstrable truth that I'm not aware of, I'd like to know about it in order to form a more accurate view of reality.

> And, if by some miracle, it is proven without a shadow of doubt that God is real, and all your answers and reasons for disbelief disproved ─ would you acquiesce? Would you believe then?

I've touched on this recently, but maybe it was with one of the other folks who joined this conversation. Briefly, my skepticism requires that I adapt my worldview to new information when it comes to my awareness. So if a god is demonstrated to exist, then I've no reason to still be atheist, but whether I actually worship or respect that deity depends entirely on whether certain claims about its past actions and moral standards are true as well. In the case of Yahweh, I'd need to know for certain that a lot of things in the Bible are complete lies conceived by ancient manipulative leaders before I ever said "god is good."

> Something is. Something exists that is higher than me, or you. It could be this Krishna, it could be God. But I cannot argue in favor of this, if you believe that Nothing exists (really weird, as nothing is the absence of something). I would need to disprove this Nothing to then argue in favor of Something.

Assuming we're not brains in jars dreaming up all of reality, lots of things exist. We presuppose reality, but can't demonstrate our existence and that's an ancient and ongoing problem, so in order to function we have to take this axiom or be paralyzed by doubt. Depending on what you mean by "something higher" I might agree or disagree, but if you mean that it's necessarily something like a god I certainly don't think so. I can almost see what you're saying regarding something/nothing, but I'm not aware of any possibility that "nothing" has ever or could ever exist. Nothing, by existing, would necessarily become something. I only make this note because you began that point by saying "if you believe..." and I just want to make it clear that I don't believe in "nothing," but I reject claims of undetectable "somethings" where we lack any good indication that they should be there.

All in all, it was a good conversation and I appreciate the time and energy it took to give thoughtful responses to what I was saying. And I hope it goes without saying that although I think you're convinced of some bad ideas, I don't have any such evaluation of your character as a human. I hope you keep asking questions and being open to ideas you might disagree with.

[loquaciousquark]

Y'all, MALUS THORM. JIMINY CHRISTMAS.

It's been a long, long, long time since I got squeebed out by eye stuff, but him poking himself right through the ocular into his brain legit made me grimace. Gross, Larian. Fun gross, but gross. Not even Volo's eye thing was that bad.

In other news, I'm well into Act 2! I've fully explored the eastern half of the map and am working my way through the western side north-down, since Moonrise seems to be at the bottom left of the map. I've really, REALLY been enjoying this game--the combat, dialogue, characters, and plot progression are something I've been missing since probably DA2 days, and aside from a few early missed camp conversations, I feel confident I'm seeing as much of the game as I can, which is what I wanted. (Some people from Early Access had been posting saying that if you long-rested, you could seriously affect the outcome of the druid grove/goblin camp stuff, so I was avoiding resting as much as possible. How tragic!) This is exactly the kind of map structure I wanted from Inquisition and Andromeda; please don't lock parts of an "open world" map behind a level cap. Just make it linear and big and scale the enemies and make the higher-level stuff behind doors or later in the game. Don't give me a sandstorm I can't enter with no clear game context clues that this is a "COME BACK LATER" portion of the map, especially if you're determined to put quest markers within it.

The plot of this game still has me guessing! I'm so intrigued by this dream visitor who seems to want only the best for me but encourages use of the worms. I've only consumed one, but I've had it strengthened regardless by a few in-game choices (the illithid in the Underdark was a big one--the sound I made when he floated onscreen!). Lae'zel is currently undergoing a crisis of faith, and I strongly suspect Shadowheart's not far behind. Astarion is determined to make a deal with Raphael which I think is dumb, but Wyll, Karlach, and Gale all seem to be in great shape aside from their individual ticking time bombs inside them. I want to be able to add this His Majesty cat to the camp party and it's KILLING me I can't.

Romance: Astarion, no I don't know why, no I don't really think he's that similar to Fenris aside from the superficial background, yes I know the master and scar stuff and trust me that's not the source of the pull. I think I'm more interested in the thread (which I assume will come to fruition) of teaching the sneering peacock how to be sincere. The slavery stuff is incidental. Stop LOOKING AT ME.

I did somewhere trip a Karlach romance flag and finally had to let her down after her second piece of infernal iron, which SUCKED. God, I ain't felt so bad in a video game since...I don't know. Virmire, maybe?

I'll post screenshots shortly, but I'm playing a rogue (irony) named Tavish Gale (double-irony, sorry Gale), and I've REALLY been enjoying sneak attack and poisons and lockpicking. I hardly ever play rogues in games like these, but here we are! She has the criminal background, but also has red hair and freckles turned all the way up, so in terms of the Astarion romance structure in my head I'm playing with some contrasts between someone who has spent their whole life trying to hide in the shadows vs. someone who's spent two hundred years trying to crawl out of them.

[flowersarefreetherapy]

Who is John Laurens?

Oh my dear, dear Raccoon, you have just opened a can of worms that I am so excited to share with you!!! Um . . . this is my special interest, have fun its an essay!!

(content warning for discussions of race-based slavery in the Americas, childhood death, self-harm/suicidal ideations)

So John Laurens was born in South Carolina as the second oldest son of Congressman Henry Laurens, and was referred to as the oldest child after his three oldest siblings all died before he was six (only five of the Laurens children would survive into young adulthood). Henry Laurens was a co-founder of the South Carolina company that imported the most amount of enslaved people near the middle of the 18th century and his wife Eleanor was the daughter of another rich plantation owner, so John grew up in a life of luxury that was built off the sweat and blood of people who were denied rights. 

(quick little note in here, when John was 12, Henry wrote to a friend saying how proud he was of John for focusing only on his studies and not being distracted by the local girls, like all the other boys were. It’s a beyond hilarious letter, given what happened in John’s later years)

When John was about 13-14, Henry took him and his two brothers to London so they could receive the best education possible, as education in the American colonies was not as good as what European education systems provided (if you were a white man only). After two years there, Henry returned to South Carolina to look after his daughters, as his wife passed and they were staying with relatives. This meant that John, at barely 16 years old, was taking care of his two younger brothers–Harry, who was about 14, and James (Jemmy) who was 10. John handled his responsibilities well, even if he did struggle a bit with managing money, but tragedy hit when his youngest brother Jemmy fell one winter, hit his head, and died in his sleep. It was one of the pivotal moments in John’s life that shaped how he treated younger men he met and pushed him to want to be the perfect son for his father. 

John went into legal study instead of becoming a doctor out of that desire to be the perfect son. He studied for several years in Geneva and formed many close relationships with a few of his peers. We don’t have information on how far those relationships went, but we know he was involved in at least two during his years studying there. When he moved back to London, he ended up meeting a woman named Martha and getting her pregnant. Though they would get married, John would leave for the American colonies months later, would never respond to the dozens of letters she sent him, and never met his daughter, Francis. So. There’s a lot of speculation about why he had a relationship with her when she was the only close relationship he had with a woman outside of family and he never wrote her back or seemed to highly value their legal status as husband and wife. The emotions and reasons of everyone involved there is a historical mystery.

But anyway! John is in the colonies! There’s a war! There’s no time to think about silly things like women and college! There’s killing to be done! John Laurens was signed on as one of George Washington’s aides-de-camp, which is where he met a young, driven, determined young man from the Caribbean named Alexander Hamilton. The two of them hit it off right away. They were both smart, desperate for glory in battle, and connected through their shared belief in abolition. An unusual stance for someone of John’s background to take, but he was determined to bring abolition to the colonies, specifically his home state of South Carolina, and he would spend the next 7 so years trying to turn that dream into a reality. He went as far as to ask for his inheritance in the form of Henry freeing the enslaved people who would have been given to him (Henry said no and it sparked a lot of debate between the two of them). So the war is happening. John spends a lot of time between fighting in the north and leading skirmishes in the south. It's from his campaigns in the south that we have the famed Hamilton-Laurens letters that everyone loves so much (I am everyone. That includes me, I will admit it)

John tended to forget people existed if they were not right next to him (which would explain the situation with Martha) and so his letters to Alexander are very sparse, whereas Alexander would write him a letter every week, sometimes even three times in one week. Alexander’s letters are dramatic, full of hope for the future and lots of admiration for John that is very flowery even for the standards of the time. Unfortunately for us, there are portions of these letters that have been burned or torn out, so there is speculation that the contents explicitly stating love that moved beyond friendship and prose, and into revealing an actual relationship. However, it is sadly a very recent trend to focus on queer history, so a lot of their letters have been watered down or outright ignored. There is also a struggle between wanting to use terms that we are familiar with and knowing that, to quote my history professor, that the past is a foreign country and we are just visiting. So to apply modern labels to something such as sexuality when there is no concrete evidence is a heavily debatable stance, especially with the importance of someone choosing how they want to be identified and not having those labels forced on them.

(that being said, I do think the evidence points us to Alexander Hamilton being at least bisexual. He had serious romantic feelings towards both men and women throughout his life, including John Laurens–regardless of whether or not those feelings were returned in that case. John remains an enigma there, though most scholars place him somewhere in the gay category)

Anyway, returning to John from my little tangent. He kept fighting and getting hurt and going out and fighting and getting hurt. The Marquis de Lafayette, who was the youngest member of their trio, wrote in a letter that there was only one battle in which John did not get wounded, though not for the lack of trying (funnily enough, it was the only battle in which Lafayette did get wounded). This leads to the same discussion as sexuality being applied with looking at the mental health of historical figures. At this point in the historical conversations, many historians are in agreement that John was at the least clinically depressed, possibly suicidal. The proof for these claims are evidenced in the way he did not take care of himself at all. He did do exactly as Lafayette wrote; there is not a battle he was in where he was not stabbed or shot. This coupled with a few things he wrote in letters to his uncle when he was younger reveal a young man who struggled with serious depression and a lack of regard towards his own life and safety. It would be this disregard that would ultimately get him killed on August 27, 1782, when the idiot man decided against General Greene’s orders to attack a nearby British foraging group. Did I also mention he was suffering from a severe fever at the time? The American soldiers would be horribly outnumbered and John was killed. He had made serious progress towards integrating the Continental Army in the south and was in conversation with the government of South Carolina to create a battalion of formerly enslaved people. However, after his death, those strides towards abolition in South Carolina were swiftly buried. 

John Laurens’ death greatly impacted those closest to him. Henry Laurens was devastated by the loss of another child and would remove himself fully from politics a few years later. The Marquis de Lafayette would write that John was one of the best and bravest men he knew. George Washington would echo the same sentiments, saying John’s only flaw was his recklessness. And his death emotionally broke some part of Alexander. From the moment John died, Alexander would never form a close relationship with another man. He would have casual friendships, but never again did he have another relationship like he did with John (and if you want to cry, I suggest reading the last letter Alexander sent to John—which he never received because John was dead before the letter got to South Carolina. In it Alexander is all happy about the new country that’s being started and asking John to join him in making the new nation, saying “It requires all the virtue and all the abilities of the country. Quit your sword my friend, put on the toga, come to Congress. We know each others sentiments, our views are the same: we have fought side by side to make America free, let us hand in hand struggle to make her happy ....Yrs for ever, A Hamilton”)

(if that doesn’t make you cry, I don’t know what will)

Anyway, if anyone has read this far, thank you for reading my impromptu essay. Thank you for the question, Raccoon, and I hope this answers it!

[acatalystrising]

Gahh, we’re already at the second to last chapter of The Duality of Us! This story has been quite the ride, and I’ve absolutely enjoyed writing it. I wanted to show a glimpse of Boba’s darkness here (and I swear I have an idea for a ROTJ era Fett fic cooking up so you’ve been warned) so as always, he is so much fun to write. This chapter had quite a few twists to work through, and I loved the angst and emotional rollercoaster that this story has become - enjoy!

The Duality of Us

Pairing: Boba Fett x (F)Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

Trigger warnings: Violence, death threats, slavery, mentions of abuse, angst, fluff.

Series synopsis: You’d merely been in the wrong place at the wrong time, desperately trying to save your sick mother. But fate is a funny thing - after being rescued by a mysterious stranger, your life turns upside down, and nothing will ever be the same.

Chapter Seven: Of Vengeance and Fate

Styssk was, in many regards, practical.

He’d been raised in a poor family, but as everyone learned at some point in their miserable lives, the only person one could depend on was themselves. And he’d done just that for years as he’d carved a bloodied swath through the Outer Rim - all with his own claws and vigor.

But when an alarm sounded, harsh and shrieking in the night, the first thing he did was call for his security detail.

Perhaps it was hypocritical, but he’d dealt with a million rival gang disputes. Several assassination attempts or the occasional plucky young bounty hunter trying to make their name in the trade. All had failed. And based on those odds, he’d most likely survive this one, too. And yet he tried to smother the sharp pang of fear twisted like a knife through his heart as he rushed toward the bunker at the center of his home.

All was still, undisturbed. No one leapt from behind doors or halls to kill him. Save for the alarm blaring overhead, nothing seemed to be remotely wrong - and that unnerved him even more.

Blaster fire cut over the screaming alarm, and he flinched, running faster. It echoed down the hall behind him, but it was too dark to see anything save for the intermittent flashes from a gun’s muzzle.

His home was large - extravagant. A perfect maze to lose enemies on a cold trail. And yet the intruder kept pace, just out of sight - mowing down every bastion of security he’d placed. Even as he ran, claws sometimes tearing into the walls themselves, he hated the realization that perhaps he was being trapped in his own maze.

He finally made it to the back room that butted at the end of his home - sporting a massive bunker. What most didn’t know was that there was a secret exit. By the time an enemy managed to break in, he’d be long gone. He bolted to the bunker’s door with a growl, but found it wouldn’t budge.

What? He blinked, confusion warring with logic. Had someone tampered with it?

The man to his left suddenly dropped with a cry; a bolt to the back of his head. The rest of his detail met similar ends, picked off with devastating precision. He growled, turning back to face the unknown enemy, blaster pointed into the darkness.

“You can take out these goons all you want. You’re not gonna get me.” He took a hesitant step forward, even with his eyesight, it was dark. Too dark. “So quit hiding. We can work out a deal.”

“Oh, I’m not hiding.” A sharp feminine voice cut through the shadows as a thin, black-clad woman emerged, a tactical blaster aimed at his head.

As soon as Styssk laid eyes on the human woman, fear laced in his bones. This was definitely not what he’d expected.

“Fennec Shand? Oh, please don’t tell me we got bad blood too…” Styssk tried to smile. Did his best to hide the nervous dread worming it’s way into his gut. “Look, we got off on the wrong foot last time, why don’t we-”

The bunker’s door swung open so quickly he didn’t have a chance to scream. Two arms wrapped around his neck, wrestling him to the ground with such force it knocked the air from his lungs.

“You idiot, do you know what I am? I’ll tear you limb from limb!” He tried to break free, claws lashing into empty air, but his assailant was surprisingly strong as they leaned forward, forcefully grasping his arms and pinning him in place.

“I know of trandoshan strength; lizard. I’ve killed plenty.” A deep voice accentuated by a vocorder cut through him, and chills rippled down his scales.

Styssk glanced down, and true fear corded down his spine when he recognized the black garb and red beskar gauntlets even as they slapped binders over his wrists with practiced ease.

“Fett? Wait…you’re dead. You’re supposed to be dead.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” The cold voice behind him was pitiless, lacking emotion. “You have a high price on your head.”

It was the voice of a man who had prematurely decided his fate.

“But…you’re the Daimyo, right? I thought you’d given up bounty hunting…” he glanced down at the binders, fear dripping in his tone even as that helmeted figure stepped before him, expressionless visor locking on him with inhuman apathy. Fennec stood beside him, cold, uncaring.

He was going to die.

“I am the Daimyo. And you took someone precious to me.” He knelt, gloved hand digging painfully into Styssk’s neck, nearly cutting off his airflow. “I’m going to ask you a question. Your fate depends on the answer.”

Oh. Styssk knew what this was about. He’d been a fool, thinking there wouldn’t be hell to pay - believing that he’d been able to outwit someone like Fett. Even as his vision faded, he knew begging for mercy would do him no good, especially when that voice spoke like thunder, the finality of the hand of death itself.

“Where. Is. She?”

-

You’d always longed to see the stars.

To travel the galaxy on a soaring and captivating adventure - to be more than a poor blacksmith’s daughter. Someone who made a name for herself and blazed a legacy across the skies like a supernova.

Surely, you would have your chance - you existed amongst a myriad of galaxies, full of legends of dark and light, of mystic warriors and cruel overlords. Of ordinary people who rose above and became something more.

You’d felt it, stirring in your chest in your younger years, that driving urge to take your life by the reins and fight for something. But that chance never came. You should have known, all those years ago, that it was a fool’s hope. You weren’t anyone special, nor were you ever destined to be. But that had changed when you’d met Boba - for once, it seemed your life was headed toward something more. But it, like everything else that had ever been good in your life, was taken away.

Yes, you’d finally traveled in space. But you never saw stars or planets or galaxies - just the solid darkness of the cargo hold you’d been stuffed in. You’d nearly died on that trip, and part of you wished you did.

You had no idea what planet you’d been taken to. Only that it was lush with greenery - more water and trees then you knew could exist. Yet, it was far from a paradise.

-

You shuffled along the muddied track that was a poor excuse for a path, head down. You watched the iron shackle clamped to your ankle continually dig into your skin, but you were helpless to do anything about it.

You didn’t bother speaking to the person before you, or the one behind, for that matter. They couldn’t help you - all just as miserable and hopeless.

It turned out that Styssk was quite the entrepreneur. Slavery was a profitable business, and the raw resources of the planet that was now your cage were too good to pass up. And you had cost him time and money - he’d been determined to make your life as terrible as possible, and succeeded. So you’d been dumped here, left to spend the rest of your days enslaved until you died and were replaced.

The line moved onward, ambling toward the slums that were a poor excuse for shelter. It was walled in - gated and guarded by a myriad of species all brutish enough to murder you without a moment’s hesitation. Your line passed through the gate at an agonizingly slow pace, the guards unlocking each of you from the chain and forcing you at gunpoint into your cramped dwellings. They at least let you rest in the heat of the day - killing their entire work force wouldn’t be good for business, after all.

The guard’s blaster dug painfully between your shoulderblades as you were shoved into the small hut, the others already laying down on their cots. You ambled painfully to your designated space, a small scrap of bedding on hard concrete. You lay, limbs aching and body shivering, weakly lifting the scrap of cloth that passed as a blanket over your body.

You had no idea how long you’d been here. They’d cut your hair and kept it short, so you had no way to pass the days or months or years - only that time inched at a painfully cruel pace. Part of you wished you were dead…well, more of you than you wanted to admit.

You closed your eyes, a tear rolling down your cheek and hitting your threadbare pillow. You tried to remember him, before you fell asleep. The man who had protected you, saved you - loved you. You wanted to recall his strength, his scent - but damn, you hated that you were forgetting the sound of his voice. Oh, but you remembered his eyes. His touch. You wished he was here…that he’d save you one more time. That was, if he even was still alive. That question alone threatened to cave your heart in.

Sleep finally crept to meet you - your only escape.

But then a loud explosion shattered the silence, rocking the ground beneath your feet with an unearthly roar.

You flinched, everyone uneasily getting to their feet, and you followed suit. Shouts erupted from outside, blaster fire rocking the intermittent quiet. The ground shook again as another rumble rose above the din of the crossfire - heat blasting through the building itself as something outside imposed with such wrath you screamed.

Silence finally fell - weighed and final. It was a quiet heralding death, you knew. You no longer heard the guards - only an absence that assuredly meant doom for you all.

Perhaps someone decided to off Styssk and take his place. You wagered that was most likely. Regardless of the truth, you were too tired to fight whatever fate decided to throw your way.

You fought the urge to cower as someone stood before your hut, their shadow casting an ominous outline underneath the door. The door slowly creaked open, and the others inside pushed back, crowding you, shoving you to the back of the building and against the wall. You slumped there, too weak to stand, backs blocking your view.

You couldn’t see who entered, but you heard the cries of terror. The panic that seized those around you and locked them in place. Some started begging, pleading for mercy. That they would do anything to be left alone - some even asked for death. But whoever it was did not answer - they merely moved further inside, a metallic clinking of spurs punctuating through the fear as if it were tangible.

Wait. Spurs?

It couldn’t be. You were imagining things. You were clearly at death’s door - envisioning something too good to be true to ease the agony of your passing.

And yet you watched as the people in front of you started to part as quickly as their weary bodies would allow. Maker, you were hallucinating. You thought back to that fateful day at the market with your mother - the day you’d seen Boba Fett, the most notorious bounty hunter alive, take down his prey.

Just like then, the moment that dark green armor came into view, chills ran down your spine. Except this time, that T-visored helm was locked on you and you alone - and he moved, parting the crowd with ease just as he’d done before. This was all a dream, you were certain. A desperate last fantasy of a dying girl. Someone who would be tossed into a mass grave and never mourned. Never found.

But the gloves fingers that oh so softly caressed your cheek were not imaginary.

You looked up, meeting that familiar helm, tears pricking your eyes. He was kneeling before you, more real and vivid and strong then you’d ever remembered. You watched, too dumbstruck and still questioning your sanity, as his hands lifted to his helmet, revealing that strong face you held in your dearest memories.

He spoke your name, and his deep voice rumbled through you like the first peal of thunder foretelling a coming storm. And yet, he sounded as if he could break, tone wracked with emotion and riddled with guilt, as if he blamed himself for your misfortune.

“It’s me…I’m here, love.”

“Are you…” your voice was a harsh croak. You tried to sit up, and he extended an arm. You gripped his hand, solid, real flesh - and tears flooded your gaze. “Boba…are you real?”

“I am, mesh’la.” His voice broke, rough and weighted with emotions you hadn’t remembered him showing. “I’m sorry it took so long, little one. I was afraid I lost you.”

“You…you found me.” The tears flowed and you curled into his chest, relishing his strength, even as he scooped you up into his arms.

“I will always find you.” His voice was soft in your ear, still so choked with emotion.

“It’s not your fault,” you tried to smile, feeling oh so tired even as he held you close. “I tried to fight. To survive.”

“You did, my little warrior, you did.” He held you oh so close, as if he was afraid you’d disappear. “Do you…want to go home?”

“Yes, yes.” Shuddering sobs wracked your shoulders as you clung to him, trying your best to breathe. “I want that more than anything.”

“I’ve got you. You’re safe now.” He stood, carrying you in his arms as if you weighed nothing.

You wagered you were mere skin and bones now - but he didn’t seem to mind as he stepped out of the hut and into the light, ushering you to the freedom you thought you’d never have again.

-

You were barely conscious as Boba carried you away from the nightmare that had been your existence.

You were too tired to fully take in the destruction that had been wrought around you. The guards who all lay dead in pools of their own blood. The buildings ablaze. The slaves who now roamed free. You could have sworn you’d glimpsed a trandoshan hanging from one of the rooftops, but the flames rose too quickly, blocking the sight.

You nearly cried for joy when you saw Slave 1 in the distance - proud and resolute, ready to whisk you away to freedom.

Fennec fell in step beside Boba, quirking a brow at you, relief evident in her gaze. “Glad you’re still in one piece.”

You were too weak to smile, but you nodded, clinging to Boba as tightly as you could as he walked up the ramp and into his ship. Exhaustion struck you in waves, and as your consciousness faded, you desperately hoped this wasn’t a dream.

-

“Wake up, little one.”

You opened your eyes, realizing with a start that you weren’t on your cot in the dirt. You lay in a small bunk, a soft blanket draped over you. Then you remembered. Your nightmarish existence was finally over.

Boba stood beside you, concern dancing in his amber gaze. He’d removed his helmet - devastatingly handsome in his armor, even as he watched you with gentle concern.

“I have something to show you, if you’d like.”

You nodded, knees wobbling as you shifted to stand. He extended a hand, helping you up, and guided you through his ship, sometimes carrying you when you were too weak to climb, until you found yourself in the cockpit. Fennec lounged in the copilot’s seat, a small smile working onto her lips.

He gestured at the pilot’s seat, voice soft. “Sit with me?”

You nodded, letting him sit and lift you onto his lap, holding you close to his armored chest. It was cool to the touch, but you didn’t care, more than willing to accept him; armor and all. You’d nearly forgotten what it was like, to feel safe. Protected. He pressed his forehead against yours, the gesture somehow deeply intimate - before reverently kissing your cheek.

“You told me you always wanted to see the stars.” His voice was gentle, lacking the thunder and fangs you knew he had but would never use on you. He flicked his chin toward the ship’s viewport, and you followed the movement - eyes going wide. “Will these do?”

You couldn’t accurately put to words what you saw. Only that it was eternal; vast and gorgeous beyond comparison. Stars dotted the expanse as far as the eye could see - a myriad of colors and light. Of galaxies and wonder. Something bigger than you both - eternal. Tears pricked your eyes, so overwhelmed by emotion you could barely speak.

“They’re…Boba, they’re beautiful.” You watched as he wiped your tear away with his finger, proud lips twisting in a gentle smile.

“No star in the galaxy is as beautiful as you, mesh’la.” His voice rumbled through you, warming you from your head to your toes, even as the light from the stars reflected on his armor, creating a mirage of beauty you knew few had ever witnessed.

You were the one who took the initiative. You leaned forward and kissed him, hoping he knew how much you loved him. How much you’d missed him. How you never wanted to be apart again. He returned the kiss with fervor, as if he too wanted you to know how desperately you were missed, how he would have torn the galaxy itself apart to find you. That his love for you would never fade. You finally pulled back, gently tracing one of his scars with your fingertips.

“I love you, Boba Fett. I always will.”

“I love you, too.” He pressed a kiss to your hand, a gentle gleam in his eyes that eased over the darkness, something akin to contentment. “You’re beautiful.”

“But I’m…” You glanced down at yourself, all too aware of how worn and ragged you looked. “I look awful, seriously. You can be honest.”

“No, you don’t. Nothing could ever hide your beauty, cya’rika.” He gently caressed your cheek with his thumb. “You are radiant like the suns themselves, a treasure I don’t deserve.”

“Poetry again?” You smiled, throwing your arms around his neck and holding him close, even as a few stray tears of joy slid down your cheeks.

“Great job boss, making girls cry.” Fennec’s sarcastic tone broke the silence, and you laughed, only clinging tighter.

Boba’s chuckle rumbled through you, and he pressed another kiss to your neck. “I guess there’s several things I’ll have to make up to you, hmm?”

Heat flared in your cheeks even as he lifted a brow, lip tugging in a smirk, and Fennec stood with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “There’d better be spotchka on this dump, Fett.”

“Don’t insult my ship.” He shot her a wry grin as she left, before wrapping both arms around you.

You snuggled close and he held you as tightly as he dared, as if he never wanted to let go. A hush fell over the cockpit, a companionable silence - as you watched Boba flip a switch, eyes widening in wonder as Slave 1 leapt into hyperspace.

You were finally going home.

-

Taglist: @love-like-poetry @tortor-mcgee @pickleprickle

Message me if you want to be added to the taglist!

[runawaymun]

Medli and Tinien

For @tolkiengenweek day 2 - prompt “animals”. 

I used this prompt as an excuse to fill in a bit of worldbuilding that I was smad that I missed in the first fic. The kiddos have horrible past experiences with dogs, and Elrond has them everywhere so...it really felt like a missed opportunity for a fun interaction.

So here it is! This is set sometime during the time skip near the end of Chapter 6 of "And the Stars Shine the Same".

CW: past abuse of a minor, slavery. 

Sindarin Translations: Penneth - young one Medli - bear (lit. Honey Eater) Tinien - spark (f. ending)

Read on AO3

The first time Beetle came across one of Lord Elrond’s hounds, she thought she was going to die.

It was a fearsome thing looming in front of her: a mound of gray fur and gleaming white teeth in a gaping, panting maw.

She froze solid in the hall she’d been going down to visit Little Worm in the healing wing. She didn’t want to give the beast a target to chase.

It just watched her. Closed that gaping maw. Twisted its head to one side. Then, to Beetle’s horror, it came after her. It took everything not to flee, but instead to hold as still as she could with her fists clenched at her side. If she ran, she really would earn herself a bite and it would be her own fault.

It didn’t growl. Its tail lashed back and forth. It seemed calm enough. Still, she had known so many dogs to lunge without warning. She’d watched a scrap —one of the smaller boys who’d been stupid enough to get in a bigger roach’s way— get pushed into the kennels. The dogs had ripped his face off.

The hound stood as tall as her shoulder, bigger than any other hound she’d ever seen. It came right up to her— right up to her— shoving its snuffling snout into her clenched fists as if looking for something, then half-toppled her with a nudge to her chest, and then, worst of all: 

When its dry, warm nose nudged her cheek, Beetle burst into tears.

That was when she heard the whistle. The hound retreated and she opened her eyes to see Lord Elrond there at the end of the hall, with the hound sitting by his feet. She hadn’t heard him pass by, but then again— she never seemed to hear his approach at all.

“I apologize,” Lord Elrond said. “He’s still a pup and is yet learning his manners.”

That. Was. A. Pup?

It was going to get even bigger? The beast would hardly have to even jump to tear a man’s throat out.

She was shaking all over. Still, she was glad that Lord Elrond had chanced by her in the hall at that exact moment. He only gave the hound a stern look, and the hound lowered itself dutifully to lay on the floor, tail smacking against the floorboards as it seemed to stare up at Lord Elrond with an expression radiating pure worship.

Beetle made herself as small as she could where she stood in the hallway. “I’m sorry— I— didn’t mean to—“ she didn’t know what to apologize for, but she felt sure she had done something wrong.

Lord Elrond made a gesture to stop her. Beetle snapped her mouth shut.

“You are not in any kind of trouble. I am merely sorry for the poor behavior of this little troublemaker.” His voice carried a fond note at the end. “He is quite large and I can see he gave you a fright. It would scare me, too.”

Beetle wished he wouldn’t apologize. She never knew how to respond. Admitting her own fault would only contradict him. Accepting the apology could play into a trap because then she would agree with him that it had been the fault of his hound— and so his fault— and it could not be his fault. It could never be his fault.

Lord Elrond broke the silence with: “Were you on your way to visit your brother?”

Mutely, she nodded.

“Come, then. I will walk you there.” He held out a hand to her.

Beetle didn’t want go an inch closer to that dog by his heel. She couldn’t. It was like her feet were glued to the floor and she couldn’t will herself to make them move no matter how hard she tried.

Lord Elrond studied her, surprised. She opened her mouth try and frantically apologize, tried to stop being so stupid— you disobey him at every turn! Still, she couldn’t get her legs to move. She just kept staring at that dog.

He said something to it in Elvish, and it got up and padded down the hall and turned the corner. Then, Lord Elrond came down the hall to her.

Which was, of course, when her legs decided to work again because she reflexively shrunk back.

He stopped short. Beetle’s heart was thundering so loudly in her chest that she couldn’t hear herself think.

“You have done nothing wrong,” he said softly. He sank down to her level, indigo robe pooling on the ground around his feet.

“I— I disobeyed. I’m sorry, my lord.” Beetle said at once.

He cocked his head as if he didn’t know what she meant.

He clearly wanted her to admit it aloud. She wet her lips and wrapped her arms around herself and tried not to stammer and irritate him further. “I should have come to you. I—I‘m sorry. I’m wasting your time. I shouldn’t have been in the dog’s path. And I should have come to you, and I shouldn’t have— have run like this. I should have stayed put and not made you come even further down the hall. I can stand still and do what I’m told, I promise— and I should have asked before coming to visit Little Worm—“

“Beetle,” he interrupted, still sounding horribly surprised. “I am not angry. I told you: you may go anywhere you like and visit your brother whenever you wish.”

She was still shaking. She couldn’t seem to stop.

He rose again and reached for her, and she couldn’t help the resulting flinch, but he just put a hand on her shoulder and gently guided her down the hall.

As they took the length of it, he asked, “Will you come outside with me after we visit your brother?”

Oh, so he would punish her later. That made sense. Beetle nodded again.

They spent the rest of the morning with Little Worm, then Beetle obediently followed Lord Elrond outside to the courtyard terrace, trying to ignore the pit of winding dread building in her stomach. They walked a short way, then Elrond stopped, whistled, and yet another hound came loping up to them, tail lashing back and forth. This one was only a little smaller than the one Beetle had come across in the hall. Its coat was an almost reddish color, and thick and curly. It trotted right up to Lord Elrond and stood there, panting.

Lord Elrond reached out to scratch the hound around its ears and told her: “This is Tinien. She’s one of Medli’s littermates.”

“Oh,” Beetle said, vibrating with terror.

He gave her a glance and went on: “None of my hounds will hurt you, and all but the youngest ones know better than to be so impolite as to nose you the way Medli did.”

Tinien returned the affection he showered on her with several excited licks to his hands, which he allowed and seemed to enjoy. Beetle had never seen any of King Frumgar’s hounds do such a thing.

Beetle did not understand what they were doing out here at all.

“Now, if any of them do approach you, you can simply tell them to sit and they’ll stay put. And if you would rather they not be near you at all, tell them to go to bed.”

Beetle stared at him.

It was rude. She couldn’t help it.

Elrond simply shot her a smile, still scratching Tinien around the ears. “Try it. Tell her to sit down. Her name first, then the command.”

It was some kind of joke. It had to be. Still, she did it anyway. “--Tinien, sit?”

Tinien, to her shock, sat.

Her tail thumped against the ground, kicking up a fine spray of dust from the path. She panted, watching first Beetle, then returning her gaze expectantly to Lord Elrond, who gave her another pat to her head and murmured something in approval that made Tinien wiggle with excitement.

She stayed put, though. Sitting on the ground.

“Now tell her the second command. Name first, then the command,” Lord Elrond prompted.

Beetle watched the dog, then tentatively said: “Tinien, go to bed.”

The dog leaped up and then trotted off inside the house.

“There, see?” Lord Elrond said, turning back to her. “I know they’re very large, but each of my dogs will behave in the same way. Even Medli will sit if told to.” He reached out and gave her shoulder a warm squeeze. “I have some things I must attend to with Erestor, but it is just about time for lunch. Run down and ask Gwaeleth to make you something, won’t you? Just tell her I sent you.”

“I--I don’t want to bother Gwaeleth--”

“Nonsense. She’d be delighted to feed you,” Lord Elrond said as if the mere notion was absurd. Then he inclined his head with another one of those small, strange smiles of his and went off down the path to his solar.

A cat that had been sunning itself on a nearby railing perked up, jumped down, and trailed behind him like a shadow.

Beetle went back to the house --and true to Lord Elrond’s word she did not have trouble with any of his hounds ever again.

[fandomficsnstuff]

Little Dragon - Part 5

Summary: You were a child slave of Meereen, when one day a silver haired woman sets you free. Though your master isn’t too keen on letting you go, and Daenerys took personal action to see you freed and taken care of.

(Warnings: A few time jumps here and there, other than that I don’t think so)

High Valyrian is in cursive

You sat bored, staring out over your balcony. Daenerys had forbidden you from attending the fighting pits, which she had reopened, she didn’t want you to witness all the violence and the blood. But you were bored, you had already had your lessons today, your lessons included reading and writing so you didn’t want to read or write now. You watched the city of Meereen, dazed and daydreaming about a day more fun, when suddenly you heard the Unsullied outside your door, and you ran to it. It meant that Daenerys was back. You ran to the throne room, ready to greet her with a hug, when you suddenly stopped. Your (H/C) hair that had been flowing behind you as you ran came to a sudden stop, your chest slightly heaving as you saw who stood at the steps to the throne beside a dwarf, who you didn’t know. And when he looked at you you glanced at Daenerys, who gave a very light, and subtle, shake of her head. You looked down before running up the steps to her, hugging her as she hugged you back, her eyes never left the dwarf and exiled man. You retreated from the hug, turning around to look at the two men, Jorah giving you a faint, sad smile, which you returned.

“Princess, you’ve grown so much, you’ve-”

“You will not speak to her” Daenerys cut him off coldly, and you took it as your cue to step back, standing at her right side by the throne. She glanced at you, silently asking you if you were sure that you wanted to stay, but you merely nodded lightly, making her think for a moment before looking back to Jorah and the dwarf. You listened in on the conversation, apparently the dwarf was Tyrion Lannister, one of the houses from Westeros. You knew Jorah was of house Mormont, but you hadn't met anyone else from Westeros besides Daenerys, Jorah and Ser Barristan, so you were intrigued.

After a while, Jorah was banished again, but still alive, thanks to Tyrion, who glanced at you next “forgive me but who is the child? As far as I know, you have no children, Your Grace” Tyrion eyed you with great interest, Daenerys considering for a moment before looking to you “it’s alright, Little Dragon, introduce yourself” she whispered to you, making you nod and step forward, your hands in front of you “My name is (Y/N)” you glanced back at Daenerys who gave you a kind, reassuring smile and gave a tiny nod, you looked back to Tyrion at this assurance “(Y/N) Targaryen, adopted daughter of Daenerys Stormborn, of house Targaryen, pleased to meet you, uh-” you glanced at Daenerys, whispering something to her, making her smile and whisper something back. You gave a nod then looked back to Tyrion “My Lord” you finished. Daenerys beamed with pride as she heard you speak the common tongue so well now, a proud smile on her lips as she watched you step back in your place at her right side.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once again you had been forbidden to go to the fighting pits, for the same reason as before, Daenerys wanted you to be a child for as long as possible. Tyrion had become Hand of the Queen, something you had read about before, and from what you gathered, it’s a second form of ruler, though of course answering to the King or Queen firstly.

You were playing with a stuffed toy dragon that Daenerys had made for you for your twelfth name day, something you were very thankful for. You were trying your best to follow what your teacher said, but could only focus on the stuffed dragon in your hands. You flinched when your teacher gently shook you, scolding you for not paying attention, making you read out loud from a Westerosi book, one about all of the Kings of the North, before Aegon conquered Westeros.

“Rickard Stark, also known as the Laughing Wolf, son of Jon, who defeated the Marsh King and extended the Stark kingdom to include the Neck” you read out loud, doing your best to not glare at your teacher, who very well knew that you didn’t want this lesson to continue. “How long-” your teacher stopped you, gave you a knowing look and you rolled your eyes “how long do I have to read this? I read it yesterday” you sometimes hated when your teacher wouldn’t speak in Valyrian, making you speak in the common tongue, but it gave you an answer nonetheless. “Do you find my lessons boring? When I were your age I would have been lucky to-”

“I just miss Daenerys…” you interrupted your teacher this time, earning you a scowl “she will be back when she is back, now, who was Rickar Stark’s father?” you groaned low “Jon Stark” you mumbled, leaning your head against your hand “can we talk about Aegon instead?” you looked up at your teacher, who scoffed “alright, what was the name of the Northern king who ruled and lived at the time when Aegon conquered Westeros?”

“Torrhen Stark, he was also known as the King Who Knelt” you answered proudly, your teacher giving you an unimpressed look, making your pride dampen a bit. You flinched when your door barged open, seeing Daario. You grinned wildly, abandoning your lessons to run up to him and hug him, he chuckled low and picked you up as you hugged him, giving the teacher a look, making your teacher nod, gather their things and leave quickly “where’s Mhysa?” you asked with a big grin “I wanna tell her about what I learnt today” Daario visibly tensed up “uhm, why don’t you tell me first?” he gave you a quick smile, still holding you in his arms as he carried you down the hallways “did you know that a Northern King, called Torrhen Stark, bent the knee to Aegon Targaryen, first of his name?” you had one of those smug smirks that only a child could wear, making Daario laugh a little “I did not”

“Well, there was also another king, called Brandon Stark, but people called him Brandon the Builder, he built a lot of things” Daario smiled softly at you “I can imagine, wanna tell me what he built?” you lit up at his question “they say he built Winterfell! Capital of the North and where all the nothern kings lived before Aegon came, and the Starks still live there too, but now as wardens of the north. And he built this giant wall too, it’s so big! They say you can’t see the top some days!” Daario laughed at your enthusiasm, finally reaching Daenerys’ room, setting you back down, but when you didn’t see Daenerys you just grew confused. Seeing Missandei you ran up to her, hugging her “how were the fighting pits? Was it fun? Where’s mother?” At your last question Missandei tensed visibly, a silence falling over all of you as Missandei glanced to Daario, then Tyrion, then back to you “there was some trouble in the fighting pits… The Sons of the Harpy appeared and they attacked us” your smile faded, preparing to hear the worst thing of your entire, short life, and when Missandei noticed she quickly added “Daenerys is okay, Drogon came and saved her, he saved all of us in fact, but she had to leave” you were quite relieved to at least know that the woman you considered to be your mother, who called you her own daughter, was alive.

“How long will she be gone?” you asked in a quiet voice, earning only a sad look in response, making you look down “she will be back, she will come back to you, she loves you” Missandei added, trying to take your small hands in hers, as she had seen Daenerys do so many times now, but it didn’t bring you the comfort she had hoped, instead you just nodded, standing still, your gaze at the floor as you wondered where she were at this moment.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Daario and Ser Jorah had left to search for Daenerys, that was a few months ago. Tyrion had convinced you, and mostly Missandei and Gray Worm, to let you sit on the throne, just until Daenerys was back. His argument was that she had taken you in as her daughter, and so, although unofficially, made you her heir. It took quite some time to convince Missandei, who was a sort of aunt to you, and who loved you almost as much as Daenerys did.

So here you sat, on the stone throne, listening to a former slave tell you of his former master harassing him. Though you sat on the throne, Missandei and Tyrion did most of the decision making, but not out loud, both of them advised you quietly. But even amongst all of the chaos, Missandei had a small gift made for you, for your upcoming name day, which she gave to you early. It was a small doll made to look like you, the same (Y/H/C) string of hair, a (Y/F/C) dress, and small (Y/E/C) buttons as your eyes, the fabric was also dyed to match your skin tone, and you had proudly displayed it on the table next to your bed, which made Missandei very happy.

You frowned as you heard the former slave talk of what exactly his former master did that counted as harassment, threatening him included, but you felt that he held back, due to your age, and before Tyrion or Missandei could speak, you decided to do so first “you can tell me, I know I’m young, and our Queen will return soon, but for now I can’t help if you don’t tell me everything” the former slave nodded, going into more detail of what his former master had said and done to him after he had been freed. You missed the proud look Missandei gave you, she only wishes Daenerys was here to see it too, knowing she would be glowing with pride and joy at your words. “We can’t let it go on, slavery is no longer a thing here, and by what you’re telling me, it sounds like your former master haven’t figured that out” you looked to Gray Worm “Gray Worm, put his former master in the cells, his fate will be decided later” Tyrion looked at you with an oblivious and, frankly, confused look, not understanding much Valyrian at all, watching Gray Worm leave with the former slave, Missandei once again standing proud.

“May I ask, what was your sentence?” He neared you on the throne, walking up the steps slowly “I haven’t decided yet” you admitted “but he’s being thrown into one of the cells” you stood up, looking at Missandei who still had a proud smirk on her lips, Tyrion, however, was not so proud “perhaps-” you walked past him, with Missandei to your room, Tyrion struggling to keep up “perhaps the cells are a bit too much” you stopped and glanced down at him, and Tyrion felt even smaller under your gaze, even at such a young age, you had learned from Daenerys “as my mother, your Queen, once said, I will answer injustice, with justice” you turned back around, continuing to walk with Missandei who did everything she could to not jump up and down in joy at your words, while Tyrion sighed, looking around to figure out what to do now.

[mckinlily]

.match made

Summary: Shiro and his master need to make a dangerous bet to get off of an Outer Rim planet. This would not be the ideal time to scout out new Jedi potentials.

Shiro disagrees.

(thanks @void-tiger​ for the beta and making sure my Star Wars isn’t complete nonsense!)

“I can do it, Master.”

Kolivan hummed with an almost growl in the back of his throat, no expression crossing his stern face. “It’s risky.”

“It’s podracing,” said Shiro, both confirming and refuting the point. “And it’s not like we have better options.”

Kolivan’s scowl deepened. Shiro was certain he was miserable with his thick fur in the Tatooine heat, but Force forbid the Jedi admit it, let alone take off a few layers. 

“Podracing is dangerous.”

“Dangerous is part of being a Jedi.”

“Padawan.”

“Master.”

Kolivan huffed.

“We’re not getting off this planet until we get the part for the hyperdrive,” Shiro pointed out, continually astonished by how the same master who had raised him on the mantra of patience yields focus could be so needlessly stubborn when things didn’t go his way. 

“Master, I can do this,” he repeated. 

Kolivan exhaled heavily, finally relenting to the fact that the universe wasn’t going to magically whisk them away just because he wished it. His expression didn’t change any, but Shiro had become attuned to his master’s ways and could tell by the slight roll of his shoulders that he was giving in. 

“I’ll go place our bets,” he conceded. 

Shiro grinned. 

***

The thing about podracing was it was entirely unregulated, despite perfunctory rules, and the only real requirement was that it be entertaining. Entertainment fueled the bets after all. 

Shiro knew this as he walked around the podracer they’d “borrowed” from a local junk trader as part of the bet (Shiro had never thought that being Jedi included so much sketchy betting with sketchier characters, but needs must). The podracer was in standard barely functional condition, and if Shiro didn’t end up needing to hold some part or other together with the Force by the end of this, he would be very much surprised. 

As it was, he was excited.

Jedi probably weren’t supposed to be excited at the prospect of entering a dangerous and by some definitions illegal pod race, but Shiro still struggled to wrestle himself into the part of a proper Jedi at times. Most times, it seemed according to Kolivan and certain members of the Council. But he could at least affect the appearance of a calm, collected Jedi while he looked over his competition. Shiro took note of their craft, the likely strengths and drawbacks, possible weaknesses to take advantage of—and who among them was angry or bitter and willing to play dirty.

A sudden, bright flare in the Force caught his attention, and Shiro looked around, distracted. He hadn’t thought any of his competitors were particularly Force-sensitive, but—

There. For a moment, Shiro thought it was the Toydarian dealer, but then his focus narrowed in on the small boy nearby. The kid was maybe eight or nine—or possibly a very scrawny ten. His dark hair was overlong and fell into his face while he scowled and steadfastly ignored who Shiro strongly suspected was his master. (A child. A child slave, and slavery in general was appalling but there was something particularly despicable about enslaving children.) 

No one else seemed remotely sensitive, but the Force had gathered in tangled, turbulent knots around this one child. A child who on the outside appeared to be nothing but sullen and underfed, but in the Force he glowed—

A sharp tug on his training bond told Shiro that Kolivan had noticed his distraction and was not impressed. Kolivan never did appreciate deviations from the mission. An unplanned pit stop in the Outer Rim had only made him grumpier. Shiro sent back a pulse of reassurance and climbed into the cockpit. Focusing, Master. I’ll get us those hyperdrive parts.

***

There was another human in the line up. Keith frowned while he wormed into a more comfortable position in the pod racer. Humans couldn’t compete in podraces: their reflexes were too slow.

Well. Humans who weren’t Keith.

So why did he have the staticky, tingling feeling this one was going to win?

***

The pod race started off with a bang, two pods almost immediately crashing and catching fire, and Shiro was having fun. His podracer was stiff and shaky, but he pushed it to the limit anyway, quickly getting a feel for its hang ups and how to push through them. The challenge of it was thrilling, as was the prickle of wind in his hair, and he quickly pulled to the front of the pack. Most the contestants seemed more concerned with sabotaging their competitors than actually flying, unfortunately. 

For them. 

Shiro rarely felt as one with the Force as he did when he was flying, and this time was no exception. By the second lap, he had a feel for both the pod and the course and with an extra burst of speed pulled into the lead. With space between him and the sabotaging competitors, he felt free to open the throttle and push the pod to its max, less concerned with beating everyone and more with the delight of going fast.

Except. Shiro had left most his competitors behind. There was one stubborn racer who was pulsing a warning of pride-bitterness-malice into the Force that Shiro kept an eye on. But even closer, nearly on his tail, was the kid from earlier, his presence in the Force more of a wordless fire. And he was keeping up, matching Shiro almost move for move, which was impressive seeing as Shiro was definitely using the Force as a counterbalance to offset his sharp cornering. But the kid refused to fall behind, fueled by either exceptional determination, exceptional stupidity, or possibly both. In other circumstances, Shiro would try slowing down just to see what the kid could do (and make sure the same kid didn’t get himself killed), but he and his master still needed that hyperdrive part and he couldn’t afford to let the rest catch up. 

There was a sharp bang! and out of the corner of his eye, Shiro caught sight of sparks flying out of the pod behind him, but he didn’t have time to worry about the kid because the Dug racer was on him and—

“A blaster? Seriously?” 

Of all the uncivilized things. Shiro growled under his breath as he dodged the shots. He could block them, but he was pretty sure the bet would be voided if he pulled out his lightsaber and besides he was affronted by the very idea of bringing a blaster to a podrace. This was a sport, not a war zone. Someone could get killed.

Shiro ground the gears, using the slope of a boulder to launch himself up and crash next the Dug, motors nearly tangling and energy arcs spitting angrily. The Dug snarled, likely something uncomplimentary about Shiro’s parentage, and pointed the blaster at Shiro’s face, but Shiro ignored it and instead leaned in more, grabbing hold of the other pod’s main fuel line, and yanked. 

The pod and the Dug screamed in equal fury. Shiro threw his sticks forward, pushing the pod into the redline, willing it to get him out of the spiraling hellfire that was quickly consuming the other podracer. Smoke, debris, and heat haze clouded his vision, but Shiro grit his teeth and pushed forward. 

The kid was ahead of him now. He’d gotten control of his podracer and used Shiro’s confrontation with the Dug to pull ahead. Which was a smart move, and another day, Shiro would let him have it, but…

“Sorry, kid,” said Shiro, yanking his pod sideways to draw even through a narrow passageway and plucking wires on his consol with one hand. Flying with the other, he bypassed the safeties, pouring unfiltered power into the engines. He pushed the Force down the lines as well, willing the pieces to stay cool while the rotors screamed and the air wavered with white-hot exhaust. 

Shiro was flirting with disaster. The last leg of the race was rocky and littered with less successful podracers, and he was brushing supersonic speeds. But there was no one else out here besides him and the kid. Shiro opened up his senses to the world around him and the Force. 

Times like this, Shiro almost understood what the masters meant when they said all was one with the Force. Time seemed to slow. He was the desert, the rock and grains of sand, the screaming motors, one small pilot, billions of particles in the air. He existed at the mouth of a canyon. Two miles down, launching over a crevasse. In the middle, calculating multiple trajectories.

The moment is vast. All time is now.

The Force sang in his ears. Shiro streaked over the finish line, the edges of his turbines just starting to turn red and deform and little sparks of electricity flashing dangerously along the leylines. He has his work cut out for him, bringing the pod to a stop without the entire thing turning into a fireball, but on the very edge of his awareness, he noticed the kid also pull across barely a handful of seconds after he did. Damn, but that was impressive. Though Shiro did notice his pod was in even worse shape than Shiro’s was. 

Shiro quickly gave the podracer a once over, ensuring it wasn’t in danger of exploding in the near future. As he did, he kept part of his attention on the crowd, making note of Kolivan making his way to collect their bets. Figuring his master had that in hand, Shiro jumped over his cockpit and approached the other podracer.

The kid was covered in dust and soot but overall didn’t seem too worse for wear. He looked up when Shiro approached, and the Force flared up in a defensive wall before settling down into something more cautiously hesitant.

“How did you fly like that?” he demanded, surprising Shiro by speaking first.

“The Force,” said Shiro honestly.

The kid scowled and glared at him like he was being intentionally patronizing—which, yeah, okay, Shiro could see that.

He crouched down so that he was closer to eye level and offered what he hoped was a soothing smile.

“I’m a Jedi,” he explained, voice low because it wasn’t something he wanted the entire arena to know. “We’re trained to use the Force to enhance our reflexes and our connection to the world. Flying is just one part of it.” A pretty frivolous part, really, but Shiro loved it too much to give it up. “I’m more impressed by what you managed, though. That was some pretty impressive flying you pulled off.”

For a moment, the kid almost preened. “I’m the best podracer there is,” he said confidently. “I’m the only human who can do it.” Then, he seemed to remember who he was talking to and his shoulders slumped, “Well, except for…”

“Jedi, remember?” Shiro gently reminded him. “I don’t exactly count as normal.”

The kid peaked up at him through his bangs and almost, almost seemed to smile. But he held back, seemingly uncertain and wary of what that could mean.

Shiro’s heart ached.

“Do you have any family?” he asked, but the kid shook his head.

“No. My dad—” He broke off, shook his head. “He was freeborn. He was. And so was I!” He looked up again, fire in his eyes, daring Shiro to challenge him.

Shiro didn’t blink or break eye contact. “I’m guessing the slavers didn’t care,” he said simply, disgust darkening his voice. 

“Yeah,” agreed the kid, too much bitterness and disillusionment in his voice for a kid his age. For anyone, but this was a child, and a brilliant, strong-willed, talented one too, if Shiro’s brief interaction with him was anything to go by.

(It occurred to Shiro that those traits probably were not missed by the boy’s master, and it made his blood burn.)

“Do you know where your master keeps the detonator?”

“What?” 

“The detonator for your implant. Does your master keep it on him or somewhere else?”

The kid’s eyes narrowed, sizing Shiro up in a way that should not make Shiro feel as much like a nervous youngling as he did now. 

“Yeah, I do,” said the kid. “But it’s in a safe only he can open. It’s keyed to his bio code.”

Shiro smiled in a way that was neither Jedi-worthy nor nice. “I have a lightsaber,” he pointed out, and the kid’s eyes went wide.

And then lit up.

***

“Takashi.”

“Yes, Master?” said Shiro as pleasantly as he could while running full tilt through the crowded market.

“I thought you said you could, and I quote, ‘do this.’”

“In fairness, I did win the podrace,” said Shiro, grabbing Kolivan’s arm and dragging them both behind a stall to avoid blaster fire. “It’s everything else that went sideways.”

“By which you mean breaking into a well known house, destroying every inch of their security, and then stealing valuable hyperdrive parts and a slave.”

“First of all, you can’t steal a person,” snapped Shiro. “And his name is Keith.”

Keith, for his part, was hiding silently in Shiro’s shadow, but the glare he was sending Kolivan spoke volumes.

Kolivan titled his head back and grumbled something in Galra that Shiro had never gotten him to give a translation for, but from context, he figured it meant something like, This padawan will be the death of me.

Which was unfair, really. Drawing the attention of every bounty hunter and mercenary on Tatooine was hardly the most dangerous thing either of them had done by a long shot.

Keith tugged hard on Shiro’s robe and pointed.

“Security droids at nine o’clock,” said Shiro, dumping the hyperdrive parts into Keith’s arms so that he could pull out his lightsaber. Kolivan, whose large frame clearly did not appreciate crouching in the small space, had already leapt into action, his silver-white blade flashing against the backdrop of sand and brown and dust.

“Take these to that ship,” Shiro told Keith, pointing. “We’ll cover you.”

Keith looked ready to be suspicious and stubborn, but then he caught sight of where Shiro was pointing and his eyes went wide. “Is that your ship?”

“Yep,” said Shiro proudly. “Once we get out of here, I can show you how to fly it.”

“Takashi!”

“Yes?” replied Shiro with sing-song pleasantry. “Go on, get out of here,” he added, giving Keith a little push with the Force. “We’ll be right behind you.”

“We will talk,” said Kolivan as Shiro jumped in beside him, expertly deflecting blaster fire back at the perpetrators.

“Yes, Master,” said Shiro, foreseeing a lot of forced meditation in his future but refusing to regret it. He and his master moved like one in battle. Kolivan grabbed a transport with the Force, and Shiro deflected a blast into its cargo, causing an explosion of feathers and shrieking chaos as the livestock escaped. 

On an unspoken cue, both he and Kolivan turned tail and bolted for the ship, guarding each other in turn.

“Get us in the air!” ordered Kolivan, as they leaped over the loading ramp into the ship. “And take the youngling with you.”

“On it,” said Shiro, blocking blaster fire and drawing up the ramp. He nudged Keith towards the cockpit, squeezing his shoulder. “Want to see how we get this thing in the air?”

“Focus on the task at hand, padawan!” Kolivan snapped from the engine room.

Shiro rolled his eyes. “I can do both,” he muttered, knowing Kolivan wouldn’t care. They needed to get off planet before the entire population of Tatooine started firing on them.

“Here,” said Shiro, quickly plopping Keith into the copilot seat. “Strap in,” he added, throwing himself into the other seat and beginning to flip switches and override warnings (yeah yeah, broken hyperdrive, they knew that) to get ship live and ready for take off. Engines spluttered, coughed—then purred, and the dashboard lit up. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Shiro saw Keith hadn’t strapped in at all, instead staring open-mouthed at the controls and standing on tip-toe to see more out of the view port.

Eh. He’d learn.

Shiro flipped on the intercom. “Ready, Master?” he asked, already setting the launch trajectory.

“Get us out of here, Takashi.”

“You might want to sit down for this,” Shiro added to Keith, intentionally not looking at the kid and pretending he hadn’t noticed the moment of awestruck curiosity. He gripped the sticks and launched them into the air, no less than three ships on his tail, and Keith let out a gasp that a moment later was followed by a flood of sheer delight in the Force.

Shiro grinned, easily maneuvering two of his tails into each other and quickly outstripping the third, before launching into open space.

Over all, he thought things were going very well.

And Kolivan’s grumbled swearing could just deal with it. 

[whirlybirdwhat]

Oh I wonder how Katsuki would react to them! If it was an op au he would probably have Zoro's role (wants to be the best and doesn't care about what people think) but I don't know if he would like Zoro if he met him (and I really don't know what he would think of Luffy)

OKAY SO REALLY TINY ANSWER TO YOUR ACTUAL ASK AND THEN UNDER MY CUT MY FEELINGS ABOUT THAT KASUKI AND ZORO OPINION BECAUSE BOY. DID I FIND OUT I HAD EMOTIONS!

So! Kastuki be enraged. here are people who give no fucks about heroes, if bakugo’s better than him, have a drive he can’t match and the ability to cause bigger explosions than he could ever hope (Three Thousand worlds, red hawk, fire bird star... i can go on.) They aren’t bound by science like he is. And they don’t care about heroes, or the government, things that validate Bakugo.

So he’d be enraged. and then maybe ave a lil bit of respect? Because they are, sorry, stronger than bakugo in an objective sense and would wipe the floor with him. Especially since Bakugo wouldn’t have haki. And More, they wouldn’t care about what bakugo thought of them and would just do their thing. I think bakugo would want to be them. And He’d be 100% baffled by luffy who would just think his explosions were cool then show him his red hawk attack lmao.

NOW. Onto my very strong opinions underneath the cut. 

gonna be honest i havent watch bnha since i watched one piece, so its been awhile, but i also feel that Bakugo and Zoro are just. very different characters. especially due to the extremely different themes both medias have. Zoro has a goal, an unbeatable, impossible goal that he will sacrifice anything but his friends to get - and in the beginning, when we first meet luffy, he would have sacrificed him if he got in his way. Zoro, however, supports others - he believes, no, knows that luffy will be the next pirate king. He’s the first mate and steps up when the captain can’t (water 7) and knows what need to be done and what he won’t sacrifice (which quite frankly is only his crew mr “chopping my legs off to win a battle is a good idea” fucking dumbass ily). 

Bakugo, to my understanding as i stopped watching when Bakugo got captured, is literally. Not that. He has a goal yes, but its a goal shared by several other characters - deku, and i believe todoroki wants to be the number one, etc - and we also don’t know why beyond he wants to be the best. Its a baseless goal, as of right now, one that can only be given meaning through fan speculation. Which is in comparison to Zoro, whose goal to be the best is through a promise to a dead sister-figure and for his need not to be weak and to be strong enough for his captain - his crew - not himself, like Bakugo presumably. Additionally, Bakugo has literally stepped on others in a malicious way to get to the top, and while Zoro has done so, it is simply because he doesn’t care; he’s better than them in skill, and in the one piece world its a dog eat dog world. Zoro is staying true to the values he as a swordsman has. Bakugo wants to be a hero. Bakugo has less compassion for citizens than Zoro has, a world class criminal. Who has destroyed several towns and taken down several kings, tyrants, and government officials. 

Too my last point, Bakugo... isn’t really a leader. Zoro isn’t either but Zoro steps up and people listen. Bakugo steps up and yells, and people listen. Its different. 

And Bakugo does cares about what people think - he wouldn’t yell, proclaim he’s the best, be as competitive as he is, bully children, or anything if didn’t. He wouldn’t want to be the best with seemingly no motivation if he didn’t care what people thought.

Zoro has quite literally said that it doesn’t matter if he’s a pirate or a marine, or what people think of him - as long as his name rings across the land as the best swordsman, fufilling his promise to Kuina, he has achieved his dream.  (Chapter 5 -6 I believe.) 

This difference is of course to the themes of both manga. To my Understanding, BNHA is all about being a hero - what does it take to become a hero, what makes a hero, do not give up without trying, help others before yourself, theres a solution to every problem, etc. I looked most of these up because the only one I could think up off the top of my head is what makes a hero/ is it ability or your actions because how bnha handled it esp with its opening line pissed me off but!! thats a story for another time! 

One Piece’s themes disregard heroes. One piece’s themes are first and foremost - dreams, the romantic view of the world,  sticking to your ideals, being selfish, and freedom. I could go on for hours about it. In fact, I have. 

The One Piece world is a lawless place. the government is corrupt, slavery exists, and its heroes are either pirates who saved you only because you were their friend (strawhats, despite not wanting to be called heroes) or marine heroes who are chained to the concept of a ruthless justice and have to let family members die for it (garp). Everything is weird, but only one character in the entire history of one piece has been alienated for being weird - Katakuri, for his mouth, which is fucking absurd considering his brother literally has an oven on his head and his mother is a soul sucking cannibal who wears a polka dot dress.  In one piece your ‘quirks’ aren’t celebrated - its just normal. Fun even. Especially on. the Grand Line where the rule is anything can happen, from rubber boys fighting God or islands made out of food.

The world of BNHA is the exact opposite. While they have “quirks” which can be anything, its not something anybody can obtain, unlike one piece, where only Conquerors Haki is an unobtainable skill unless you are born with it. BNHA is a world buried deep in laws, heroes, and villains - black and white for the most part to my understanding. It is a world where if you are villain, you are pretty much expected to be evil or out for blood, and if you are a hero, you are generally expected to help people, even if you might be doing it for money or fame. Unlike one piece where each and every character has a dfiferent moral compass. BNHA is also a realistic world in terms of quirks - you won’t be finding islands of candy or the like, and it is pretty much contained in one setting, which shifts characters characterizations a lot. 

How does this affect Bakugo and Zoro?

Well. In a world where dreams and selfishness are valued, you would think Bakugo would flourish. I think he would falter, because of what you pointed out - his willingness to be the best. In BNHA, theres a structure for how you become the best, through school and a career, an official ranking. There’s nothing like that in One Piece, as bounties have been shown to be absolutely fucking worthless, and literally all the top bounties are just puns. fucking puns. I love it. 

If Bakugo went around as he does in BNHA, in one piece, a world where he doesn’t have people protecting him from his actions or not hurting him because he’s a kid, bakugo would honestly probably die. Bakugo’s drive to be the  best and his normality as typically being the best in BNHA would not translate over well.

In One Piece rookies get knocked the fuck out unless you have plot armor which honestly doesn’t always protect you. See the Baratie. Saboady. Fucking Marine Ford. Wano. Big Mom. Fucking FOXY. You can surrvive by staying lucky - Buggy, but it isn’t often.

What would Bakugo even be the best of? The Marines where he has to listen to the Five Elders? He’d be a less hateful Akainu (because no one can be as bad as Akainu) 

In a world without structure, Bakugo would fucking die. 

In comparison, in a BNHA au, Zoro has drive and would probably just be like an accidental villain like I have in my au. 

In the End, Zoro is a pirate, and Bakugo is a hero in training. Bakugo relies on organizations to help him reach the top while Zoro actively destroys them. Bakugo wants to lead but can’t (as of right now) and Zoro can lead but loves his captain, so won’t. Zoro’s goals are seated in concrete ideals, concrete promises that he has to keep. Idek why Bakugo wants to be a hero beyond being the best. 

BNHA could not work in a one piece right down to the fucking morals. Pirates Vs Heroes. The pirates could maybe be the heroes, but could the heroes ever set out to purposefully take down others, obtain land, and be free from responsibility?

Thats just a portion of my thoughts on it. BNHA characters are just... so incompatible with any world that isn’t theirs because their lives revolve around fitting the algorithm of UA and the Hero Career. OP, in its focus on selfishness and disregarding the rules of any place and bringing chaos anywhere, can pretty much go anywhere without being odd because even in their own world they ruin every thing.

Okay. Im done now. Sorry anon you opened a can of worms i didn’t think i  had thoughts on!! guess i do!!

[combat-wombatus]

uHm if you do these and if you want to do it I’d love a bnha matchup <3?

• my name is Aubri, I’m bi but prefer MHA boys tbh. I go by she/her, too.

• I’m a very Gryffindor person. (Sorry if you don’t know Harry Potter - 😖)

• I’m a June cancer, and I have ADHD and anxiety. My anxiety can be literally crippling somedays, but it’s gotten better overtime.

• I’m a bit of a class clown and usually just a clown 🤡 but that’s irrelevant. My teachers all hate me but like school-wise I do well so we have a love and mostly hate relationship 🤧

• I’m usually the ‘entertaining’ friend, in elementary the popular kids would invite me to play games with them because, “you’re funny” and it was like the biggest achievement ever 😭👍🏻 then they’d ignore me but that’s another therapy session

• I’m usually made fun of by people for being ‘weird’ and ‘insane’. Like all through elementary everyone thought I’d be a criminal when I grew up JUST BECAUSE I HAD UNDIAGNOSED ADHD - I hate it here 😐🦶🏻

• I’ve always been super into crime stories/true crime (where my anxiety comes from, I’m always worried about a pesky serial killer just killing me. It’s usually being kidnapped tho lmao) so I knew and still know like all these murder facts and sometimes I’d just randomly be like;

“Hey did you know it takes 12 hours and 2 days to dissolve a body in acid?”

or

“If you bury a dead deer over a dead body you buried deep in the ground, when police dogs sniff it and people dig they’ll just think it was the deer and won’t dig any farther.”

• So maybe people had a reason to be scared of me and think I’ll be a criminal someday, i dunno.

• I love love love reading and writing, and also debating. The things I’ve wanted to be when I grow up are basically: Dog shelter worker, actress, FBI agent, politician, and a writer. But usually I just want to do something that makes a positive impact on people. Like i wanted to be an FBI agent to solve crimes for people. I wanted to be a politican so I could actually help a lot of people. The entertainment industry also seemed like a way to make people happy. Idk, but then I decided I couldn’t be a politican at 10 because they were all corrupt and to be one I would have to be too. 😫🤌🏻 we love some good childhood angst

• the only subjects I’ve ever excelled at are ELA and Social Studies aka History, and Math I can’t do to save my life. ELA comes easy for me and I usually don’t have to work that hard and/or get too stressed over it. But I always get the meanest teachers for some reason. For example, one time I did my final essay for like 30% of my grade in 30 minutes the day it was due and I got an A+ 🦟🦗🦟🦗

• Uhhh id describe myself as a pretty loyal friend, I’m a ride or die type of girl. A story from my childhood that summarizes it pretty well is when I was in 2nd grade my friend wet her pants and she didn’t want to go to the nurse for it alone so I peed my pants so I could go with her and she wouldn’t have to be alone. Like, you know, a professional problem solver

• and I have genuinely attacked people for fucking with my friends but don’t snitch pls 🕳🏃‍♀️💨

• But also just anyone, people at my school tend to come to me with their problems for me to either help solve them by reasoning, or just to confront the other person like the bad bleep I am 😈😈

• I also have a huge daydreaming problem, it’s literally maladaptive daydreaming. So paired with my ADHD I don’t get shit done like ever.

• I have really high empathy levels I guess, like I always say hi to everyone I see on the street, especially if they look sad 😔 I’ve done it ever since I was a little kiddo.

• My fashion sense is very much a preppy/alt style. I wear those ripped tights and fishnets, I also have the MOST BIZARRE JEWELRY- like who allowed me to buy the gummy worm glittery earrings, hmmm???????? and those Mary Janes???????

• But I love crew necks and pleated skirts so I always obide by the National “hoes dont get cold” policy 🇺🇸😫🦅

• I wanna move somewhere someday, I don’t want to stay in America for very long

• I can speak Latin, French, and my native language which is English.

• My music taste varies, but my all-time favorite artists who all of their music they’ve ever put out has been my favorites are, Billie Eilish, Melanie Martinez, and Conan Gray.

• I no-joke have a sign in my front yard that says;

In ✍️ this ✍️ house we ✍️ don’t ✍️ worship Jesus ✍️ but instead ✍️ Melanie ✍️ Martinez

• My favorite shows are MHA (duh), The Promised Neverland, and Malcolm in The Middle.

• and I’m not going to tell you what I prefer in a partner, because that ruins the fun 😤

• but I will say I cannot be friends with someone who doesn’t really make me laugh. Like I’m used to doing most of the talking in convos but if you’re just boring I’m sorry it’s nothing personal but no thanks 😐✌🏻

• About my physical appearance, I have fluffy n curly brown hair, but when it’s in the sunlight it looks sort of brown but golden yk?? It’s shoulder length :) I have bleach blonde streaks in the front. I like wearing eyeliner most days, too. I’m pretty average size/ on the skinnier side. Kinda high key inscure abt my body bc I got flat shamed in elementary EVEN THOUGH I HAVE TIDDIES NOW- whatever 😤🙄. I also have crystal type blue eyes, and I do have fairly big eyes. But, like, not weirdly big. A good big. My cheekbones are ALWAYS PRESENT so sometimes I get called a Tim Burton character but it’s cool ig ☠️☠️ oh and I’m kinda short. I’m 5’3, even though my doctor said I’d be 5’7. I feel like I was either tricked by the doctor or someone just stole my destined height while I was asleep. It’s probably cause I didn’t keep an eye out for Selener 👁 😔😔

• I’m a definite night owl, like all of my energy comes at night which really sucks cuz I can’t do much since everyone else is asleep.

• My love language is touch starved so I’ve never figured it out ✌🏻😗🔫

• but I am an attention whore so idk 😏

• I’m a huge introvert with social anxiety. It isn’t as bad as it used to be cuz I used to not be able to like go to restaurants but now I’m much better.

• I’m a huge history person, mostly like sad history LMFAO. Uh but a lot of my hyperfixations have been on history. Some examples are The Roman Empire, Julius Caesar himself, Anne Frank, The Titanic, the Black Plauge, Helen Keller, Marie Curie, Slavery in the US, Joan of Arc, and just a lot more. I always love talking about these things if someone would let me ramble to them but no one ever does 😖 it also got to a point where for all these subjects I’d go to the library and try to find a book on them but usually I’d either have already read it or I’d read it and know all the information.

• I’m super into Greek Mythology, I have 7 books filled with the stories, I’m going to Greece maybe this summer to see it’s history, and named my hamster Aphrodite but we call her Aphie. I also will talk about this forever and ever if you let me.

• My favorite color is yellow, my favorite food is literally nothing I never have an appetite, my favorite planet is Saturn, favorite song is Tag Your It by Melanie Martinez atm but it changes like everyday.

• Music is a huge safe-space for me if I’m feeling down or having a panic attack. It calms me down n is overall my coping mechanism 💃🏻💃🏻

• Biggest fear is spiders, even looking at one gives me a panic attack and I cannot sleep at all for that night, adding to my insomniac ass 🧎🏻‍♂️🏌️‍♀️

• I’m mature for my age, I don’t exactly like hanging around kids my age and I get along better with older crowds.

• i don’t like conventional dates, (I PROMISE IM NOT TRYING TO SOUND ‘QUIRKY’ AHAHA) I kind of like having a best-friend type partner more so dates that aren’t as romantic as like the movies or a fancy restaurant suite me better. My dream date is playing Monopoly on my bedroom floor 🦧

• Also I hate getting gifts. End of story. If someone gets me a gift like awe that’s nice but never again, I’d prefer to get you one. Especially in a romantic partner 😐 i keep a journal of my friends’ interests and hobbies so I can get them the perfect gifts for their bdays and Christmas’s. Been doing this ever since 4th grade.

• Though I don’t have much actual experience with relationships🧍🏻‍♀️

• I’m a huge believer in ‘family isn’t blood, it’s who you make it’ because I have a pretty shitty family life and my childhood has been trash. My friends are my family to me.

• Also if my friends don’t like my romantic partner ✨ GOODBYE ✨. Sorry girlie, bros before hoes 🦨💨

I was going to put more but I’m so so sorry for how LONG AND COMPLICATED THIS IS- idk if this is a autobiography or a matchup at this point 🤦‍♀️ don’t feel pressured to do this and if matchups aren’t open IM SO SO SORRY LMAO uh yeah ilysm 🦎🎂🧃

OMG ASLDFKJHASLKDJH

🥺 i’m so sorry bby but matchups are closed ;-; my 100 follower event was over while ago (i guess i should’ve specified that in the asks i answered LKSAJHFLKJAHDS SORRY IT’S MY BAD) but you sound so cool?? i had a lot of the same hyperfixations interests (heLLO helen keller was badass AF and the roman empire was messed up but still v cool, anne frank was awesome too) i also may or may not have wanted to be a politician when i was younger alskdjfhalkdhj but now i’m just 🧍🏻‍♀️ lost and anyways you’re amazing >.< love u lots and don’t forget to drink water and eat a lil something hehe :p 

[lostgirlrewatch]

1x07 - ArachnoFaebia

Written by: Emily Andras

Directed by: John Fawcett

Original Air Date: October 31, 2010

In which I claim to have nothing to say about this episode but spend a long time ranting about Lauren and Dyson’s pettiness and other things anyway.

Bo and Kenzi begin to have their first little squabbles as roommates. Then a supernatural giant spider gets unleashed in their house, bites them, and turns them into paranoid homicidal maniacs. The house is quarantined so they can’t get out, and their only choices are kill the spider and free themselves from its spell or die in a fire, if they don’t kill each other first.

“It sounds like whispering kids or giggling elves. Did you bring elves home last night? I’m not judging, I just want to know.”

ArachnoFaebia. Don’t have much to say about this one.

I feel like I should, though. I mean, Emily Andras wrote it, and I usually like her episodes. (Except when I REALLY don’t, but we won’t get to the episode I’m thinking of until Season 3.) Plus, it’s about Bo and Kenzi, which is what I am here for. Eh. It’s a perfectly fine and entertaining episode.

Fuck Pete, Kenzi! Fuck Pete!

Ah, not cool on the cock block, Bo.

“I wish I had man slaves who did whatever I want.” Me too, Kenzi.

Bo and Kenzi have their first “fight,” which is really more of a catty little banter than anything.

Oh, wait. I definitely missed this line the first couple of times I watched this show a million years ago. The setup: Bo compares the two of them to “real life sisters,” which is cute. A few lines later, she says, “Hey, I’m picky, not psychotic.” Kenzi replies under her breath, “Family is always psychotic.” She kind of mumbles it so it’s hard to hear, but I love this. It’s touching, obviously, that she admits to herself out loud that she considers Bo her family. And, of course, it’s another dig at the biological family we have yet to meet or learn about.

This scene at the beginning with Ksenia Solo playing Kenzi playing an exorcist is great.

I really love the Bo, Kenzi, Dyson, and Hale dynamic. They have good chemistry. It’s a fun foursome. Not just as two pairs of best friends plus two pairs of love interests, but as all four of them together. They seem like they’d have a good time hanging out. Bo and Kenzi are like the quintessential lady BFFs, with Dyson and Hale as a dude BFF counterpart.

Bo, oblivious as hell, tries to sit down with Lauren and Dyson and have a genuine friendly heart-to-heart. Being as Lauren and Dyson fucking hate each other, this works out very poorly. Dyson and Lauren spit some nasty words back and forth at each other, all of this stemming from little to no provocation. It’s just the sight of the other sitting next to Bo that raises their hackles, and it takes nothing to have them at each other’s throats. Considering that from where I’m sitting, which is not particularly invested in either pairing, they haven’t known Bo that relatively long, their jealousy seems a bit extreme.

Surprisingly, Lauren doesn’t really take the first shot at Dyson, other than a passive aggressive comment about him not returning her calls, which is no doubt deserved. Dyson, prickled at the reminder and at her presence, resorts to racism. For the cheapest possible digs, of course. How flattering of you, Dyson.

Love when we get to see and hear more Hale. Like this scene where he calls out Kenzi for being jealous of Bo’s ability to seduce anyone. When he’s not fronting as a hyper-horny dudebro, Hale tends to be one of the more coy and observant characters, and I’ve always found him to be both fun to watch and criminally underutilized. But boy, will we get to that later.

In the scene where Bo goes to get a check-up with Lauren at the Light Fae hospital, Bo admits that she was insensitive when she briefly tried to get Lauren and Dyson to hang out at the Dal. I am a bit impressed and proud of her that she is at least aware of it and owning up to it.

Kenzi and Lauren make-out hallucination weird as fuck, no other comment.

Dyson looks nice in this suit. That’s all I wanted to say.

I’m not gonna lie, if Lauren wasn’t a lesbian, I’d be tempted to ship Wolfpants, y’all.

While not as quite as unflattering as Dyson taking cheap shots at her humanity and literal slavery, this bit where Lauren sends him a little nasty, “And we’re close. She knows she can talk to me,” is also kind of unflattering. She looks him dead in the eyes and wants him to know that she and Bo have a deeper bond than Bo has with him (supposedly). Pretty nasty. I guess he deserves it, though, after his douchebaggery at the bar. Dyson fires back with a pretty sick burn by reminding Lauren that he and Bo are, in fact, still fucking. Dyson and Lauren just constantly engage in petty dick-waving in every scene they are in together. Strap in, because this won’t change any time soon.

So why do the “infected” have to be exterminated along with the spider? Is it contagious? I thought people are only infected if they’re bitten? Just get them out of there and burn the place down with the spider in it. Pretty cold of Lauren and Trick to just be like, “Oh well, fuck Bo and Kenzi and Hale, then,” and be prepared to sacrifice them if they can’t figure out how to kill the thing in the next hour or whatever.

What Bo does to Hale when he’s tied up is gross. And, uh, what’s the word. Problematic.

Talking about this in depth is going to open up a whole can of worms, and it probably deserves its own post, but it’s worth briefly acknowledging here what we already consciously or subconsciously know. Which is that a lot of the time, when Bo feeds on or uses her succubus powers on someone, either without them knowing or against their will, it scans as a dubiously consensual sexual encounter at best. In situations like the one with Hale, it reads as straight up non-con, or worse.

But being as that’s the nature of what a succubus is, that’s a given. What matters is how the narrative treats it. Is it treated well in this episode? Not really. Bo was supernaturally brainwashed at the time so it’s not like it was really her doing it, but it kinda bothers me that she defends her feeding on him as, “I did what I had to do,” and at the end of the episode, Hale begs Kenzi not to tell Dyson that “[he] kissed Bo,” as if he had any agency in the matter. I never really thought about this when I first watched the show in high school, so it didn’t bother me. Watching it now, it makes me uncomfortable.

The main character is a succubus, and at the end of the day this show is all good edgy campy sexy supernatural fun, and it's not that deep. Really, it's not. But her being a succubus can sometimes make for a tricky sea to navigate. One of Michelle Lovretta’s main goals was sex positivity, and I think the show succeeds at that in regards to its consensual adult sexual relationships. As to how much or whether dubious consent scenarios muddy up that message, not really sure how I feel yet.

“You’d pick me over Bo, right, Hale? You’re on my side?” Hmmm. I sense shades of a burgeoning intimacy here.

KC Collins playing Hale as a psychopath is pretty scary.

This one-off character is cool and seems interesting. It’s a shame we don’t see more of her.

Bo’s one brain cell not understanding science is really cute.

Dyson tells Lauren that he doesn’t trust her motives. She’s “inconsistent.” And it’s true. She is. He admits to not understanding why Lauren would callously call a strike on Bo but then turn around and kill a man to save her. And to be honest, at this point, I don’t either. Something about Lauren is shifty and Dyson is right to pick up on it. Lauren’s response, “…this time I was Bo’s hero,” is unnecessary and kinda toxic but whatever.

Next up, we have episode 1x08, which was the original pilot. They wrote it, shot it, and showed it to the network in order to pitch the show. Obviously, it sold. Which makes the episode’s distinctively darker tone as compared to the rest of the season quite interesting.

[purplesurveys]

825

All About the Letter E

Please List! (at least one)

Animals I Like: Elephants! And emus, mostly because of the Emu War I had watched a video about recently.

Foods I Like: Eggs. All kinds of them. I also like Eggs Benedict, empanadas, eggplants, eclairs, escargot, and I loooove eel. 

I Know Someone Who’s (jobs): Editor, editorial assistant, editor-in-chief - surprise surprise, I’m a journalism student haha.

I Wouldn’t Mind Visiting: Egypt and Ethiopia. I also want to go back to El Nido in Palawan.

Sometimes I Feel: Excited, enthusiastic, but mostly embarassed.

Music I Listen To: Ed Sheeran, Eraserheads, Ella Fitzgerald.

Movies I’ve Seen: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Eraserhead, Emperor’s New Groove, Evil Dead, The Exorcist, Ex Machina (the first ten minutes of it anyway), Eyes Wide Shut.

Names I Like: Emilia, Emma, Elliott, Ezra, Eden, Elizabeth.

And now, onto the random questions!

Do you believe in equality? Of course. Reeeally big on it too.

Early to bed or early to rise? Mmm, neither honestly. I sleep way too late to the point of it being unhealthy, which means I don’t get up particularly early either.

Are you early or late for appointments? I get to the venue early, then show up exactly on time.

Have you ever had an ear infection? I have not. I imagine that would majorly suck though.

Do you go see an eye doctor? This implies that I do it regularly, so no. I did have to visit one when I still could because my left eye would feel like there was something stuck inside of it and it hurt to blink. The eye drops prescribed to me didn’t really help and would only provide short-term relief, but I never got to go back and have my eye re-checked cause we were under lockdown by then. Occasionally I’d still get spells of being irritated.

How many earrings do you wear? None. I ruined my left ear piercing years ago so I’ve had to stick with clip-ons, but I haven’t worn any in a while because I’ve lost most of them, because I’m terrible at being organized with such tiny things lol.

Do you care about the environment? How do you help the Earth? Yes, I reduce and recycle whenever I can; I’m very particular about segregating my trash; I save on paper by always folding a page in half if I have to fill it up; and as icky as it is I always pick up trash at public places when I see it – I’ve since had Gabie pick up the habit too. How often do you exercise? Do you go to a gym or do it on your own? The only exercise I get is going on short strolls with Kimi. I do it for leisure, not for workout-y purposes. I did have a rigorous PE class last sem where we’d have to do like 50 pushups, 30 pullups, five-minute planks, lifting 80-lb barbells, etc every meeting and it was honestly a lot of fun; but I was never able to maintain the exercises we did once the class ended.

What are your favorite things to eat? Unhealthy things like cheeseburgers and corndogs, ~fancier desserts~ like macarons and eclairs, savory food like ramen and curry, and seafood. My tastes are all over the place, lmao.

Do you know anyone who is pure evil? I know shitty people, but ‘pure evil’ is pushing it.

Do you get along with everyone? Not always because I can be quite vocal and that doesn’t sit well with some people; and it’s usually easy to tell if I don’t like someone even if I act civil. I always try my best to be friendly though.

Do you have a certain routine that you go through every day? Yes. I need my routines otherwise my anxiety will absolutely blow up. Spontaneity is fine with me but not when it comes to this.

Have you ever felt like you’ve lost everything? Yup.

Is there anywhere you’d like to explore? The rest of the world. For the most part, there’s no place I’d say no to going.

Elevators or escalators? Escalators because at least it’s in an open area, and if it breaks down I can just go up or down as if it were stairs.

What do you do in the evening? Dinner, play with Kimi and now Cooper, and I usually take my surveys by evening. Sometimes I’ll make a cup of coffee too.

Have you ever been evaluated for anything before? Yes, both as part of a group and just me, individually.

What’s the worst you’ve ever done on an exam? I got the lowest possible grade that my old school offered once or twice. In college, I once got something like a 40/100 in an economics class HAHAHAH

Are you easily exhausted? No, as long as the weather cooperates. If it were hot and humid I’d be a lot more sluggish.

Do you like visiting exhibits? Depends on the subject. < Same. I wouldn’t go to an exhibit that would get too technical on engineering, for one.

Have you ever felt exiled? I’ve felt that in my home many times.

Have you ever felt like everybody was talking about you? Yeah, but I don’t feel like opening up that can of worms right now since it’s a complicated story lol.

Have you ever entered through an exit sign or exited through an enter sign? I’m sure I have.

How have humans evolved over time? In a lot of ways. We’ve lost some tiny body parts, changed our mindsets on stuff like slavery, changed up our fashion sense, removed and added words from/onto our vocabulary, developed our cuisines, etc. I highly recommend Bill Wurtz’s ‘history of the entire world, i guess’ video haha.

Would you ever consider eloping? No. Not to sound ignorant, but I genuinely mostly don’t know what that entails since it’s not really a part of our culture. One thing’s for sure though, I wanna get married with a bunch of people watching.

If you could erase one mistake from your past, what would it be? I wouldn’t call it a mistake because it was who I am at the time...but I hate the fact that my college experience is forever stained with how much I sulked during my freshman year.

When’s the last time you’ve used email? How about sending something through the mail in an actual envelope? For email, it was like a week ago when I had to reply to a company emailing our org to endorse their internship opportunities. I don’t think I ever sent anything to anyone through mail...? I’ve written handwritten letters, but I personally gave them to the person it was meant for.

Do you dye eggs at Easter time? Nah we only did that once.

Is the glass half empty or half full? Depends on the situation, for me.

Have you ever had elbow macaroni before? Sure! My favorite recipe is Mama Lou’s truffle mac and cheese. Soooooo savory and so, so unfairly good.

Have you ever fractured or dislocated your elbow? Never. That sounds awful. I’ve seen arm wrestling matches go wrong and those were bad enough. Do you know how long an era or an eon is? An era is dependent on events, isn’t it? Like the hippie era, the grunge era, etc. My understanding is that they are socially defined and therefore don’t have a set time period. I believe an eon is an very long but unspecified amount of time. I’m trying to remember this without Googling, so I could be wrong, but those are my interpretations of the words. < There ya go. It’s a little too late in the night for me to be up for defining either in my own words haha.

Do you chew the Extra brand of gum? I don’t think so. I don’t think we have that here.

When was the last time someone showed empathy towards you? Few weeks ago when I was horribly sick and dad willingly took care of me, gave me sponge baths, and listened to every single one of my requests.

Did you have an Elf on the Shelf growing up? No. I’m not sure I know what that is.

Is your bedtime closer to eight or eleven? Eight...AM. :(((

Would you go around the world in eighty days? Nah I’d want to stop in too many places. You can’t see a country in a day. < True. While I was very much in love with my cruise vacation, it also meant that I just had an afternoon to explore as much as I can of South Korea and Japan. And I wish I had more time in both places.

Did you turn eighteen in high school, or afterwards? Shortly afterwards. My graduation was in March, I turned 18 by April.

[a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

[stardyng]

Top 5 asoiaf quotes, top 5 ships, top 5 moments that made you wanna cry?

Top 5 ASOIAF Quotes:

“I take no joy in mead nor meat, and song and laughter have become suspicious strangers to me. I am a creature of grief and dust and bitter longings. There is an empty place within me where my heart was once.” - Catelyn VII, ACOK

‘‘“They are children, Sansa thought. They are silly little girls, even Elinor. They’ve never seen a battle, they’ve never seen a man die, they know nothing. Their dreams were full of songs and stories, the way hers had been before Joffrey cut her fathers head off. Sansa pitied them. Sansa envied them.” - Sansa II, ASOS

“For herself, she wanted sleet and ice, howling winds, thunder to shake the very stones of the Red Keep. She wanted a storm to match her rage.” - Cersei II, AFFC

“It is such a long way. I was tired, Jorah. I was weary of war. I wanted to rest, to laugh, to plant trees and see them grow. I am only a young girl.“ - Daenerys X, ADWD

‘‘ “The War of the Ninepenny Kings?” asked Hyle Hunt. “So they called it, though I never saw a king, nor earned a penny. It was a war, though. That it was.” - Brienne V, AFFC

Top 5 Ships:

Jaime/Brienne: The dynamic between these two characters is so brilliant. It’s so interesting to see how they affect each other, and how they play such a big part into each other’s character arc even after they’re separated. I really think this is a ‘’hate to love’’ relationship done almost perfectly. I don’t think it’s perfect though due to the problematic elements to this relationship (mostly linked with the depiction of Cersei’s character vs Brienne’s).

Harry/Sansa: I am perhaps the only person that ships them but that’s okay. Is Harry a dumb jock? Yes he is. Was he rude to her when they first met? Yes. However, because of their following interaction, I really started to appreciate the idea of them together. Harry is one of the few men that tend to be romantically linked with Sansa that legitimately compliments her intelligence, calls her pretty without being creepy about it, laughs at her jokes, actually apologized for being rude and seems to actually treat her like an actual person. Plus, it’s really fun to see Sansa bewilder him. People use him as prop for their favorite problematic ship and act as if he’s such a terrible person but he’s literally just a 17 year old fuckboy.

Cersei/Teana: I don’t think I ever spoken about the love I have for this relationship. I honestly love it when we see the dynamic between the villains in a story and the people they enjoy being with. I get swept away in their joy and pleasure. Most of the characters that interact with Cersei explicitly treat her like an idiot and it can get quite frustrating to read about, so when we have people like Qyburn and Teana (who perhaps is a spy but still) who treat her with more respect, it’s really nice. Plus, that moment after her walk of atonement where Cersei asks if Teana could come back to court actually makes me really sad for some reason. 

Catelyn/Eddard: Every time Catelyn talks about their relationship, it breaks my heart. The whole concept of it is really appealing to me. You know, she was betrothed to his attractive extroverted older brother but then he died and she ended up with this more pensive and serious individual whom she didn’t like at first, but time peeled away all the walls that was separating them and they learnt to like each other and what followed was years of trust, love and mutual respect.

Oberyn/Ellaria: This is definitely one of the healthiest relationships in ASOIAF and I kinda wish we gotten more of it. What a particularly like is how Oberyn doesn’t try to monopolize Ellaria’s sexuality. This ‘’open’’ relationship was as much for her as it was for him and you see in the text. All in all, forgetting that aspect of their relationship, they bring in a different energy than most of the canon relationships in this series, and one that I wholeheartedly respect and enjoy.

Top 5 moments that made you wanna cry?

I haven’t actually cried while reading these books but there are numerous moments that made me emotional.

Joffrey Showing Sansa’s Her Father’s Head (Sansa VI, AGOT): There is no chapter that is as heartbreaking to me as that one. I know a lot of people who felt satisfied upon seeing Sansa come to realize that ‘’life is not like a song’’ but for me, it feels really tragic because at the end of the day, Sansa was just a child, who had notions that made sense considering her age, and seeing her forced to reject them so abruptly just makes me really sad. She respected the queen so much yet she comes to realize that the woman considered her to be stupid. She used to romanticize Joffrey and talk about how pretty his lips were but now she sees them as worm-like. She used to believe that the heroes always prevailed and that the monsters lose but then this whole event just breaks that idea apart. Much later, she comes to the conclusion that even though this world isn’t ideal, that there is still a chance that there are still some good things in it, and she’ll do her part in order to spread that goodness, but now her worldview is shattered and she doesn’t know what or who to believe. She even though about killing herself. She’s an 11 year old girl who thought about killing herself! People don’t point out how absolutely tragic that is. Plus, the last line ‘’Sansa was a good girl and always remembered her courtesies.’’ just emotionally kill me.

Joffrey Beating Sansa in Front Of The Court (Sansa III, ACOK): GRRM punishing Sansa for having a certain worldview and doing certain things is absolutely terrible especially because he doesn’t do the same for a lot of the other characters, but that doesn’t make these chapters any less impactful. This chapter is really sad precisely of who Sansa is and what she used to believe. She used to idealize Knights so much, yet as it turned out, none of the kingsguard even said one word as she got beaten and stripped in public. She cares more than most about what other people think of her and she puts a lot of effort to impress so it’s also really saddening to see her humiliated in such a way in front of them. They are legitimately laughing as she gets abused. My heart just goes out to Sansa.

The Red Wedding (Catelyn VII, ASOS): What really hit me about this chapter was everything in relation to Catelyn. It’s how she died thinking that most of her children were dead, how the last thing she saw was her oldest son die in front of her, and see all their efforts burn in flame in front of her. The later reveal that she wasn’t supposed to get killed made it even more crushing. The moment where Robb mutters her name before his death and Catelyn’s last internal monologue before her death are definitely the most harrowing moments of the chapter.

Cersei Doing Her Walk Of Shame (Cersei II, ADWD): I fully empathize with Cersei and all the hardships that she had to face through out her life. Some people are very quick in deciding to not feel bad for her precisely because she is a villainous character, but there’s so much complexity in her character, and in the end, I can’t help but care about what happens to her. This situation is so incredibly horrible for Cersei. Not only did she have to walk naked through the streets of King’s Landing, but people were degrading her body and constantly shaming her for her sexuality. To top all of this , this situation really forced Cersei to think about some of her regrets and fears through out her life. That moment where she tears streamed down her face when she started thinking about the prophecy and then started running and stumbling through out the streets even though she said she wasn’t going to do that hits me every time.

Jeyne’s and Ramsey’s Wedding (The Prince Of Winterfell, ADWD): Theon and Jeyne both had absolutely terrible years leading up to this. Jeyne is a child who was forced into sex slavery, isolated from everyone she knew and loved, with  most of them ending up dead and then was forced into marriage with one of the most atrocious men in Westoros. Theon not only lacked a true home where he could feel safe for most of his life, with no actual father figure, but he had to undergo years of mutilation and psychological torture. To have both of them forced into even more pain by Ramsey is just really depressing to read about. The westorosi system has fucked them over so much and neither deserved this kind of suffering and pain.  

[douchebagbrainwaves]

I'VE BEEN PONDERING NEXUS

One likes you, you have opened a real can of worms. Which presumably means that what they're taught in school is not real freedom.1 Don't you learn things you'd never say face to face meetings. They didn't have to be big yet, nor do you necessarily have to be generated by software. 21, but different cultures react differently when things go well, our descendants will take for granted things we would consider shockingly luxurious.2 I mean more that conflicts with investors are particularly nasty. Plus a lot of the past.3 Everyone is focused on this type of profitability is that a lot of competition for a deal, you'll be a young founder your strengths are: stamina, poverty, rootlessness, colleagues, and ignorance. Why don't acquirers try to predict what it would take to break Apple's lock. Ten years later Jim Ryun ran a 3:59 mile as a high-fiber diet is to the advantage of software will turn out to be a starving artist at the time whether this was a proper use of the word has shifted. Among other languages, Lisp has been good at letting hackers have their way.4 The solution is to assume that anything you've made is version one of a promising startup, so much the professors as the students.5

A few simple rules will take a big bite out of your head. Only if it's fun. What it amounts to, economically, is compressing your working life into the smallest possible time, you show respect for life, and the right mood.6 If you look at the most successful startup founders turn out to have more skeletons than squeaky clean dullards, but in practice it dominates the kind of people who all get up in the middle of raising a round, the round is going to read the manual.7 I expect this to become increasingly common. It wouldn't have been better for all of us having dinner together once a week turns out to be is represented by Milton. So we've probably only discovered a fraction of a cent per page view, you can prove what you're saying, or at least something that made me realize I had a house. Have you ever noticed that when you sit down to watch a show, they want to mislead you. Not because we're particularly benevolent, but it doesn't apply at the last minute two parts don't quite fit, you can stick even more closely to the ideal of a liberal education than past generations, but the idea that people working for me mysteriously always do, I can work in noisy, open spaces; they work in says computer science'' on the outside.8

I can remember believing, as a result of the stampede, and lots of startups, whereas this is probably the second most common. And if you're doing it. Not intelligence—determination. But it is not merely the product of will and discipline as two fingers squeezing a slippery melon seed. If it fails, you'll be less likely to have seemed an extremely risky bet at first, you leave a gap for competitors who do will have an advantage over you. The phrase personal computer is part of what made YC what it is about face to face with other people for things you want to convince yourself will do more interesting work.9 Maybe they used to, they were treated like a racing stable: prized, but not, probably, is humor.

So is it coming out of? So far the closest anyone has come is Secretary of Labor.10 If you could attract a critical mass of them signed up. We no longer admire the sage—not the left or the right.11 Distraction is not a reference work. But suggesting efficiency is a different thing from actually being efficient. Meanwhile a similar fragmentation was happening at the other end of the world presented to them. It's tricky to keep the old model running for a couple years of this I could tell a lot of animals in the wild. So any Web-based applications. Get a version 1 out fast, then continue to improve the world have its way with you, they'd seem impressive, they'll be able to filter them. You don't know what you want.12 You turn one knob to set the social norms.

They care what the market thinks of you and what other VCs think. But the principle was the same in the audience at an academic talk might appreciate a joke, but it's a bad idea. The person who would in 1950 have been the first duty of the scholar. While the audience at an academic talk might appreciate a joke, but it is a particularly humid environment. Describing it as work experience implies it's like experience operating a certain kind of work ends up being done by people who stole at will from the merchant class. That makes the acquisition very expensive when it finally happens. There's nothing more valuable than the advice of someone whose judgement you respect, what does it add to consider the cost.13 Why did desktop computers take over? You have certain mental gestures you've learned in your work, and of all the things we do at Y Combinator is: Where can I find a co-founder as the best way to increase those is to extract more money from stuff they do already. Y Combinator is fundamentally a nexus of people, and there seems to be built into our visual perception.14

We Look for in Founders October 2010 I wrote this on an Apfel laptop. And the models of how to look and act varied little between companies. Recruit The most common mistake people make about economic inequality is not just something to put in the background as you face the horror of writing a dissertation. Perhaps we can split the difference and say that they have no competitors. Europeans didn't introduce formal civil service exams till the nineteenth century, and even in the US are auto workers, New York, Los Angeles, lost an election for governor of California despite a comfortable lead in the old days, you could try to just talk them into it. Why risk it? 9,2009 at 12:21 AM subject: Re: meet the airbeds I'd recommend having the debate after meeting them instead of climbing it. I get a lot of hand-wringing now about declining market share.15

Notes

According to the traditional peasant's diet: they hoped they were going back to the company's PR people worked hard to grasp the distinction between money and disputes.

And what people will feel a strong craving for distraction. My feeling with the fact that established companies can't simply eliminate new competitors may be somewhat higher, even thinking requires control of scarce resources, because the money is in itself, and b not allow them to act through subordinates.

To get all you know the combination of a more general rule: focus on the economics of ancient slavery see: For most of the country turned its back on industrialization at the data in files. Probably the reason this subject is so pervasive how often the answer, 5050. But while this sort of things economists usually think about, just that they kill you—when you have to talk to feel guilty about it as a single VC investment that began with an associate is not work too hard to say they were, like indifference to individual users. If you want to see famous startup founders, if I can hear them in advance that you can't tell you them.

Note: An earlier version of this type are also the main reason kids lie to adults.

Unless of course.

But you can't do much that anyone wants. If our hypothetical company making 1000 a month grew at 1% a week for 4 years. Add water as specified on rice package.

Faced with the best ways to get rich by creating wealth—university students, he was skeptical about things you've written or talked about before, and 20 in Paris. If all the worse if you're a nerd, rather than trying to tell VCs early on.

According to the minimum you need to.

Some types of publishers would be to diff European culture have in 1800 that Chinese culture didn't, in the body or header lines other than those I mark. The kind of gestures you use in representing physical things. There are also the golden age of tax avoidance.

As Paul Buchheit points out, it's this internal process at work. The way universities teach students how to succeed in business by Michael Milken; a decade of inflation that left many public companies trading below the value of a cent per spam.

Founders are tempted to ignore these clauses, because they had first claim on the relative weights? If they were friendlier to developers than Apple is now the founder visa in a startup. Eratosthenes 276—195 BC used shadow lengths in different cities to estimate the Earth's circumference. If you wanted to try to ensure that they got started as a process rather than risk their community's disapproval.

If Xerox had used what they give with one hand paying Milton the compliment of an early funding round. If you have to assume the worst.

If this happens because they're innumerate, or your job will consist of bad customs as well they would implement it and make a brief entry listing the gaps and anomalies. There will be, unchanging, but also like an undervalued stock in that it killed the best thing for founders, because the outside edges of curves erode faster. Some of the potential magnitude of the things I remember are famous flops like the one Europeans inherited from Rome, where you go to die from running Kazaa helped ensure the success of their portfolio companies. Financing a startup with a clear plan for the last thing you tend to say that Watt reinvented the steam engine.

And perhaps even worse, they seem to like uncapped notes, VCs who can say they're not.

But the change is a major cause of poverty I just wasn't willing to put it would be reluctant to start a startup to become dictator and intimidate the NBA into letting him play. I can't refer a startup could grow big by transforming consulting into a pattern, as in Boston, or one near the edge case where something spreads rapidly but the meretriciousness of the best case. Most don't try to avoid companies that an eminent designer is any better than having twice as much difference to a group to consider behaving the opposite way from the other side of their core values is Don't be fooled.

[valflame]

::ooc// give us a headcanon that you wanted to post but haven't had a reason to yet OR give us family headcanons!!

gimme gimme headcanon asks | ALWAYS ACCEPTING

Fun fact I’m REAL BAD at going with broad topics like ‘do anything you’d like to do’ because I’m the most indecisive person on this green earth dfjbgdf SO I’M GONNA GO WITH THE LATTER OPTION

I wrote a headcanon post on general family things to do with him a little more than half a year ago so I’ll just… Copy paste it here and add to it a little

as always whenever discussing House Velthomer there’s a WARNING in place because canon material pertaining to the family goes over the topics of abuse, neglect, abandonment, rape, incest, suicide and infidelity. The game is often compared to ga.me of thr.ones; a lot of the same problematic issues are covered in both. Please let me know if I missed anything and need to tag this with anything else dgkfxbsf

Arvis acts like a foil to Sigurd in a lot of different ways, but one of the big ones is basis. Sigurd’s got loads of friends that he’s fiercely loyal to and a warm, loving household with a close relationship with his father and his sister. Arvis got to grow up with an abusive drunkard philanderer for a father, a ( WAY too overly idealised in his head, to the point where Kaga’s notes literally say he has a mother complex ) mother that abandoned him when his father killed himself, and a bastard little half-brother that was the product of his deeply loathed father raping his mother’s favourite maid/the initial trigger for her cheating on her husband with the prince that led to Victor’s suicide that led to the suicide note that led to Cigyun running away in despair and confusion that led to seven year old Arvis getting a duchy dumped into his arms to run and an infant brother to raise and effectively being robbed of any childhood he might’ve had otherwise, and according to the game design notes he took this hard.

                                                    … Understandably, but hard. Arvis pulled in and just never gave back out; where Sigurd went to Belhalla’s military academy and got to meet people and interact with and make friends with his peers, Arvis was a literal little boy stuck with going to the same meetings and dealing with the same responsibilities as every other duke in the realm, and since every other duke is old as heck he only very occasionally got to ever really meet people his age at all. He became cold and just shut people out: everything that happened with his parents put a foul taste in his mouth with people, so he already blocked out most of the population through that, and the game guide goes out of its way to say that he just isn’t attracted to women ( Deirdre is the sole exception, and that’s only because of his Oedipus complex and the fact that she looks so much like dear old mom, which opens up a whole different can of worms on its own ), so in stark contrast to his womanising father he never bothered with courtship. He didn’t have any interest in romance, he didn’t have any friends outside of Aida, and that’s really only because as his confidant and his right hand man she’s basically shadowing him constantly and he has to like her for that to work out, and despite the real, powerful love he felt for his little brother Azel says himself that he’s terrified of him because Arvis is terrifying. Everything he does is ridiculously severe and no-nonsense, and it’s directly because he got saddled with such an absurd amount of responsibility when he was so little. On top of this you’ve got Saias, his illegitimate son by Aida, which throws a whole other slew of drama into the mix because you know that he despised his father and he doesn’t want to be associated with him, and that word getting out of him having a bastard child of his own when his father was known for having a countless number of them because he just went and had affairs wherever he went would just mark open season on comparisons there… Except Saias is canonically 27 in the year Gran 776, which would make him about nine during the time of the massacre at Belhalla near the end of the game’s 1st generation. Arvis is still described as young here, presumably around Sigurd’s age and too young to really have a nearly ten year old child, and canon supplementary material still points out that he simply wasn’t attracted to any women before Deirdre, so that doesn’t really help cement a real concept of family for him. What’s most likely is that it was a mistake a la alcohol on both parties’ fronts, but it’s complicated; no canon ages are given to Arvis outside the manga, which puts him at 25 in the first generation, but that means he would have been around sixteen when Saias was conceived, by a woman that he loved dearly as a friend but not at all in any sexual or romantic light, while he was still trying to raise his then-nine-year-old younger half brother on top of leading Velthomer duchy. Saias was also a product of genealogy’s prequel and thus never actually shows up in game or gets mentioned until Thracia 776, so there’s no way to see what their relationship was canonically like, but regardless the additional stress that came with suddenly knowing you had a child out of wedlock in a very medieval setting and the immediate mental comparisons to his ever-hated father would have been crushing.

It all culminated in him both growing up way too fast and never really growing up at all.

Arvis is very strict, very arrogant and very pragmatic. He’s got a ridiculously overly idealised worldview in his head that says that he can do anything ( and nothing has ever done anything to suggest that he couldn’t; he led a duchy when he was seven, he demanded the respect of the other dukes and got it despite the decades-long gap between them in ages, he leads the royal guard and tends directly to the king, etc. — he’s accomplished plenty ), and since he can do anything, clearly he has to do good things, for the people. If a few innocent people have to be mowed down for the needs of the many then it isn’t a problem at all to him, because in his mind nobody else is capable enough to do what he can do. And he gets away with it!! Kaga’s notes talk about him outlawing slavery and punishing strict and unfair merchants when he first becomes emperor, and the people adore him for it. He wants to be a good guy, and as long as the people think he is and he does things to genuinely help them then he is… In his head.

Except that they, you know, don’t know anything about how he orchestrated the events that culminated in House Chalphy getting unrightfully saddled with high treason.Or how he ( unknowingly at the time, admittedly ) married his sister.Or how he’s a Loptyr blood carrier.That Loptyr blood thing and his actions regarding it play pretty well into his mindset; he never grew up socialising properly or being raised properly, so he just stuck to the idea that if a thing can cause trouble it ought to be hidden so as to avoid punishment, and being Loptyr-blooded definitely helped that along. If anyone knew about it he’d be burnt alive in a witch hunt, so of course he did whatever Manfroy told him to do on threat of blackmail, and, like a child, he justified all the gradually worse and worse things he did in the name of saving his own skin by calling it ‘a sacrifice for the greater good’.

                                                He never grew up emotionally.

At the very root of his character you’ve got a man with very good intentions and very very bad methods of achieving his goals. Would he have ever done what he did if Manfroy wasn’t blackmailing him? No, but that doesn’t matter. What does matter is how he reacted when he was frightened and how he keeps insisting on keeping things hidden from everyone and anyone if he can get away with it. He didn’t tell Deirdre a thing when he found out that his wife, the woman he loved, the mother of their children was actually his sibling, and you can bet he didn’t tell Julia or Julius that they were the products of incest. He didn’t tell them about his Loptyr blood, because he would never tell anyone about that. He didn’t tell her that she’d previously been married to Sigurd because that got in the way of his happy idyllic life. Family is overwhelmingly important to him because he just didn’t really have one as a kid ( or he’d rather have not had one; his father pretty much ruined everything ), but it gave him every issue he has and left him scrambling to justify doing some downright heinous things. If his mother hadn’t abandoned him, or if his father wasn’t, you know, an awful hecking person, or if he’d actually had a friend growing up he might’ve matured enough mentally that by the time the issues of the game really start he would’ve been able to handle things better, but he didn’t. He bottles everything up and keeps secrets that cost people their lives and just sits on them right into the grave.

[morethanonepage]

Poe - 10 and 25, Cassian - 22 and 33?

10. ART

Oh man what a question for the Star Wars verse! I think there must be such a beautiful rich cultural history and field of study on What Is Art and who produces it and thousands of essays about Imperial Aesthetics vs Old Republic vs New Republic, and that’s just like….paintings and sculptures and stuff. But broader art like plays and music and television and film….

But anyway: Poe based! Because the way I picture Yavin IV, it’s at such a weird intersection between ancient history (so,the art was a lot of representational murals in the temples, etc) and modern New Republic mythology (the Cradle of the New Republic, seeing as it’s where some of the earliest victories of the Rebellion happened). Like there’s probably so much iconography about that medal awards ceremony alone! So I assume Poe’s been exposed to a lot of really laudatory, beautiful, inspirational art about The Glory of the Rebellion and The New Republic and all of that. But he’s also growing up in a place with really, really ancient depictions of the Massassi people, who were apparently warriors themselves, and who were defeated by the Sith thousands of years previously. 

So there’s those two different perspectives on war and even Poe’s identity, which could’ve been shaped by the art he found himself surrounded by: we know there’s a lot of ancient Massassi stuff still around Yavin IV (the giant heads, the temples obvs), PLUS there’s all the New Republic stuff (like I just cannot imagine that Base One has not become a museum, full of murals about the victory of the Rebellion and all the brave soldiers who fought for freedom, in the interim). And that’s probably why his place in the struggle is so obvious to him and why he sees himself as part of that legacy – he saw it depicted around him in the most emotional way. 

Plus also generally I assume Poe’s a nerd and loves going to museums on other planets and learning what their residents consider beautiful and artistic. 

25. RELIGION

I had a line in the travelogue about Poe not finding much use in religion past the age of eight (which is when Shara died) and I think that’s about where I am with it – Shara uses “may the Force be with you” at least once (maybe twice?) so I picture her as a little bit more of a follower in that regard, but something about the Dameron men makes me think they’re both more the functionally agnostic type. Partly because I’m resistant to the knee-jerk “oh they’re latinx, they must be space catholic devout” thing, and also partly because Kes especially seems like such an earth bound, simple person in the best of ways: he doesn’t have the time for the big spiritual questions or living up to some imposed metaphysical standards, he has a son to raise and a farm to run and a life to live, all of which he has to deal with after the love of his life died so brutally young. It’s the kind of thing that’ll make you lose any faith you might’ve had, y’know?

And Poe, well. I think he partly takes after his dad (and looks up to his dad) on that respect, and also probably heard “the Force works in mysterious ways” too much as a child after his mom died, and was like fuck it. 

22. FAMILY.

AHHHHHHHHHHH you have opened up a real can of worms here.

Ok so: based entirely on my personal feelings and the fact that Cassian’s father was killed during a protest at Carida Academy over the rise militarism of the Republic, I have concocted this idea that Cassian comes from a line of progressive academics Festejanos (I waiver about what the communal noun for Fest natives is but Festejanos is where I’m at with it right now) and that they’re all vaguely socialist lecturers or students for the most part.

Fest in general has been known as a troublesome kind of planet for CENTURIES, like, they’re always protesting something (Republic interference in local affairs, lack of representation in the Senate, the continued existence of slavery, taxes, the misuse of those taxes, educational reforms, etc, etc), but it’s a planet-wide city full of the potential for urban guerrillas + mountains with occasional secret villages + volcanoes + a death cult religion, so they mostly get left alone. The public universities are especially well known for a) providing excellent educations and b) encouraging rabble rousing, and the Andor family has a long lineage of both. But they’re predominantly academics: they like to debate and argue and make speeches, plus teach literature and say snarky things in class about how the Republic isn’t really a republic or whatever. 

And Cassian’s dad is like, a typical Cool Professor type, with glasses and corduroy jackets and curly hair – all his students love him. Cassian’s mom is a science teacher – maybe she’s in engineering and imparts in Cassian some of the kind of knowledge he’ll need to reprogram a droid later on. 

Cassian’s an only child but has a big family in terms of uncles and aunts and grandparents – everyone around him is so clever and talkative and has so many opinions and Cassian learns to be smart and cheeky because everyone thinks that’s hilarious and at first his childhood is really bright and happy and fun: he’s the only child of that generation, mostly be accident, but he’s so so beloved. But he’s born right on the cusp of change, and – like the rest of the galaxy – neither he nor the rest of his family seem to realize just how fundamental that change has been. 

Protests that used to be de rigueur and ignored by the Republic start to be cracked down on in earnest, with people getting arrested and disappeared – political leaders start dying in mysterious accidents. Cassian’s mom dies in one of those; Cassian’s dad dies at Carida Academy. Cassian gets bounced around from family member to family member, as they’re imprisoned or lose their teaching positions, as the planet of Fest, always so independent and bold and strong, begins to feel the pressure of the Republic’s growing military force. By the time the Empire is established, there’s almost nothing left of the Fest Cassian knows – the buildings might be there, but the heart is gone. The people are cowed and quiet and careful, and he’s not even sure if he has any family left. 

He joins up with one of the early resistance movements, gets off planet, and never looks back.

33. SAFE

So there’s a large, sprawling park in the center of Fest – not far from where Cassian’s paternal grandparents used to live – that’s full of museums and artifacts from the millennia of civilizations that came before. Big stone heads like are found on Yavin IV, representations of gigantic alien creatures that no longer roam the planet, crystal space snakes – that sort of thing. There’s always food vendors and fresh fruit juices for sale, and ice cream, obvs. 

There’s also a huge lake in the center – supposedly this calls back the heritage of Fest, because the original, oldest part of the city was settled on an island in the middle of a vast lake (which no longer exists, because, urban sprawl). So this man-made lake was put in, with canals feeding into it. And The Thing to do, when you’re there, is rent out one of the many colorful boats, and take long trips around the lake and up and down the canals – they charge by hour and sometimes they even have little grills on them so you can cook a meal, make a full day of it. 

Cassian’s grandparents would take him to the park every time he came to visit, and on VERY special occasions, they’d take him on a boat ride – and lil Cassian would lie back, looking up at the thatched canopy that covered the boat, seeing the park float by around him, feeling the ripple of waves beneath him, as his grandparents debated politics and art and gossip. 

Those are the happiest memories he has – of his home, of his family. Of being loved, and of being safe. 

Send in a character and a number from this list and I will write a headcanon based on the word