#I still don’t know what a gender is but these droids have some similar ones I think?

[mage-ical-character-person]

the cinematic parallels are stored in the gender I guess.

they’re just. Yknow. Androidgynous.

[uwingdispatch]

From the Very First Night

From the Very First Night

Notes: Ezra Bridger/Reader, established relationship, gender neutral reader, post-rebellion/post-war, hurt/comfort, chronically ill/disabled reader

CW: light discussion of past traumas/implied PTSD

Ao3 Link

★★★★★★★★

The day you met Ezra Bridger you laughed when he told you his name. 

“Forgive me,” you told him, “but you’re not the first man on Lothal to try and pick me up while claiming to be the guy in the mural on the wall outside.”

“Well that’s new,” he said. “I tell you my full government name and you think it’s a ruse. Maybe I should have used one of my old aliases.”  

You’d been finishing up some work in what had come to be your favorite caf bar in town, a few blocks from your home on Lothal. And you were thinking about leaving when a man approached with a look in his eyes that, on another day, might have prompted you to pick up your comms and fake an emergency call from a friend.

But now he was reaching for his wallet, pulling out an ID. “You can check my chain code if you want. I didn’t realize I had so many doppelgängers.”  

You quirked an eyebrow. None of the other “Ezras” you’d met had offered ID but, as soon as you saw it, you felt heat rush to your cheeks. “Okay,” you said. “This is embarrassing. ”

He smiled warmly as he put his wallet away. “To be fair, most of the stuff in town depicts me as a kid, and I didn’t have this handsome beard back then. But I can appreciate a skeptic.”

You put away your datapad, your instincts still split between staying where you were and running out the side door. Surprising yourself, you say, “But I’m not hearing you say that you're not trying to pick me up.”

“Well…maybe. That depends, I guess, on whether you mind if I join you.”

You nodded, and he sat opposite you, the corners of his blue eyes crinkling when he smiled. Up close, you could almost see the teenage boy from the mural. But his hair was longer, dark curls falling soft around his face, and he had a short beard that he did wear quite well.

You wondered if his nerves had caught up with him as he ran a hand through his hair, the late afternoon light coming in through the window catching a streak of silver at his temple.

“Sometimes it feels like I know everyone in this city. Or at least that everyone in this city feels like they know me.” he said. “But you’re new, aren’t you?”

“What gave me away?” you asked.

“Well, I could never forget such a lovely face.” 

“Are you serious right now?”

“I really am.”

There was something sincere about him, despite the flirtations. Something about the way he moved was honest. Welcoming. A server brought him a cup of caf and Ezra exchanged a few words with him in Rodian. 

“So how long have you been in town?” He asked.

“About eight months,” you said. “I just hit this point where I felt like a fresh start might be nice. I don’t usually abandon ship when things get rough, but I thought maybe this one time…I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

He winked. “I used a Jedi mind trick.” 

“Right,” you said, fairly certain he was kidding.

He shrugged. “And somehow you landed on Lothal.”

“I narrowed it down to the places where I’d be able to have my astromech serviced.”

“Must be a special astromech.”

“She’s a therapy droid.”

“Ah,” he said. “There are several mechanics in Capital City who work with that program.”

You were a bit taken aback at how unfazed he was at the mention of your therapy droid—issued by the New Republic. Similar programs had been available to injured veterans before, but the civilian program was newer. And he not only knew about the program, but didn’t seem bothered by the fact that you had a condition that required this kind of aid.

“We had a lot of options,” you said. “But Ceetoo and I decided Lothal seemed nice. So…I’m here.” 

“Glad you are,” he said, both hands cupping his caf mug.

“You just met me and the first thing I did was call you a liar.”

“That’s what I like about you.”

A day would come when you’d realize what he meant then. That when you saw him you weren’t thinking about all the war stories, about the way Lothal had memorialized him when they’d thought he was dead. That he had a chance, at least for a moment, to show someone who he was without the burden of their assumptions and expectations. 

You would also come to realize that from the first time Ezra smiled at you, there was no coming back. He had you, melting like chocolate in the palm of his hand. Because he saw you too, like no one else ever had before.

***

It’s late afternoon when C2-B35 comes in from the garage bleeping about the line at the pharmacy. She’d gone with Ezra to pick up your medication after getting your doctor to call in something new for your joint pain. Ezra could have gone by himself but, because of an incident early in your dating history when there’d been a mix-up, Ceetoo almost always insists on going with him—and he learned a long time ago not to fight a stubborn astromech.

Ezra finds you on the sofa where you’ve been trying to relax, the pain in your back making it hard to even lie still. He knows better by now than to tell you that you’ve been working too hard, that you should take more breaks. He knows to help you up, taking you gently into his arms and kissing your hair. By the time he hands you the tablets, you’re already feeling a bit of relief.

You take the medicine and let out a heavy sigh, resting your head on Ezra’s chest before whispering a thank you. 

“I wish I could heal,” he says.

“We still don’t know if that kind of healing would help me,” you say. “Genetic condition.”

It’s a dance you dance every time you have a flare like this, bad enough that Ceetoo insists on contacting your doctor. 

“I met a kid once who could do it. His dad said he could nullify the effects of a neurotoxin. Close a wound like it had never been there at all.”

“What did the kid say about it?”

“The kid doesn’t talk much. Still working through some things, I think.”

He gets quiet, and from the look in his eyes you know that he’s gone somewhere in his mind lost you can’t follow. It’s been 25 years since he last saw his adoptive father, the man who’d trained him in the Force, and there are some wounds that time never quite heals. Ezra is still working through some things, too.

“Hey,” you say. “Come back to me.”

He smiles, his eyes bright as he gently squeezes your arm. “I’m right here, sunshine.” 

The medication starts to hit, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. You reach for his face, the sharp line of his bearded jaw, the parallel scars on his left cheek. “Just as you are, you’re enough, Ezra. I don’t need a Jedi. I just need you.”

C2-B35 beeps irritably before retiring to her room, reminding you that you haven’t eaten since breakfast. 

“Thank you, Ceetoo,” you call, with a promise that you’ll have a proper dinner.

“Is it helping?” Ezra asks. “The medicine?”

“It is,” you say. “Finally.”

“Have you really not eaten all day?”

Your face tells him everything. 

“Right,” he says. “Dinner. I could make some quick dumplings? I think I froze some last time to fry later…I’d just have to make the sauce, really.”

He’s up and in the kitchen, pulling jars of spices out of the pantry, and you know he can already taste this comfort dish, and so can you.

So much of his life had been unstable after Ezra’s parents disappeared. He was on his own at such a young age, and then after a few short years in the Rebellion he ended up in exile on Peridea. Now, everything he had felt like a luxury to him: a permanent home, a pair of naughty indoor loth-cats, soft clothes he wore without consideration for armor. He’d told you about learning to cook when he came back to Lothal and, now that he has access to just about any ingredient for any dinner in the galaxy, he has every intention of not only enjoying the luxury of any hot meal he can dream up, but to make sure you enjoy food as well. When Ezra offers to cook, you never say no.

“Ezra?”

“What do you need, love?”

“I need you to kiss me.”

And he does, pulling you up from the sofa, taking your face in his hands as he presses his lips to yours, his neatly trimmed beard soft against your skin. You’re lacing your fingers through his dark curls when he pulls away to look right into your eyes.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you whisper.

And he replies, “I can’t imagine being anywhere else.” 

***

It was night before you left the caf bar and, at this realization, Ezra insisted on walking you home. “Unless you don’t feel comfortable with that,” he’d said. “I would understand. It’s just dark out and…”

And something about being with Ezra just made you feel safe. Even on that first night. You’d never let a strange man walk you home before—it was on its face a bad idea. But you’d stayed out much later than you normally would, and the idea of being alone felt far more unsafe than being with this charming man.

“I don’t normally do things like this,” you told him, the words coming out way too fast, just a block from your building.

“I figured,” he said. “For what it’s worth…I haven’t done anything like this in quite a while.

This did surprise you. “Walked someone home?”

There was a playful tone to his voice when he replied, “Approached a beautiful stranger in a caf bar.” 

“You sure are bold for someone who doesn’t regularly…do whatever this is.”

“I just…” he started and paused, taking a breath. “This is going to sound like a line, but I just felt so drawn to you.”

“In the Force?”

“Maybe.”

“It does sound like a line,” you said. “But somehow I believe you. Jedi mind trick?”

“I’d never actually—”

“I know.”

You were both standing outside your door, a cool evening breeze in the air. You took all of him in—his firm chest beneath the deep v of his tunic, his dark hair catching on the wind, those blue eyes that seemed to see right past all of your walls. You’d met this man just a few hours ago but, beyond all reason, you so wanted to—

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, the words falling from his lips as if he hadn’t considered the consequences.

You nodded and he took a step closer, cupping your face in his hands, his nose brushing yours as he leaned in to press the most delicate kiss to your lips. And you felt his smile just as you felt that joy in yourself—a spark of something unlike anything you’d felt before. Maybe it was the Force, but every inch of your being wanted to be close to this man as you reached for his face, drawing him nearer, slipping a hand into his hair as the kiss deepened.

“I should go,” Ezra said, breathless into your ear.

“Why?” you asked.

“I have an appointment.”

“Really?”

“No.”

“Then stay.”

Nervously you fumbled with your keys, dropping them not once but twice as you tried to open your door, Ezra eventually placing them steadily into your hand, and just the touch of his fingertips against your palm sent a pleasant shiver through you. Quickly you shooed an alarmed Ceetoo away as you entered. Unlike you, her memories included files from the war, and she recognized Ezra as soon as she saw him. Beeped out something along the lines of this one’s mostly trustworthy and I’m going to charge.

“Mostly?” Ezra said, almost in a whisper. “I wonder what she’s heard.”

You bite back a laugh. “I just need you to know I don’t normally do this either.”

“Okay.”

“I could make some tea.”

“Sure.”

But his arms were around you again and you both stumbled toward the sofa, falling into the cushions wrapped in each other like teenagers, wholly unworried about anything else in the galaxy.

That tea didn’t get made for hours. And it was nearly dawn when you retired to your bedroom and Ezra fell asleep on your sofa, your loth-cat sitting at his feet. When you woke, he was gone, a note left on your kitchen counter: Had to work this morning, but I hope you’ll call me. You traced your finger over the comms code left in scratchy handwriting below, wondering for a split second if this could be real. But if you closed your eyes you could still feel the sensation of his fingertips ghosting over your cheek when you’d handed him a blanket the night before. His voice when he’d whispered in your ear, “Sleep well, sunshine.” 

★★★★★★★★

Thank you so much for reading! They really gave us Hot!Ezra in the Ahsoka series and I'm just here to be a gremlin about it. I hope this fic made you feel seen and loved.

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[clonewarslover55]

congrats on sticking with the writing for a year! I love reading your stuff and can't wait to see what you put out in the future.

If your still taking requests can I have a bad batch x reader (you can pick which catcher it is) where they aren't together but like each other and have to pretend to be parents to omega to get out of trouble?

(I hope that makes sense. If it doesn't or it doesn't appeal to you, it's alright. I'm just a sucker for Star Wars Dads like the batch and Din😆)

Thanks!

Pretending to be Omega's parents with Hunter

Hunter X GenderNeutral!Reader

Thank you so much anon!! And yes, this makes perfect sense!! I really loved this request actually!

Notes: I chose Hunter because he is the main dad of the group! Also the reader is gender neutral!

Warnings: Spoilers for the Bad Batch, reader has known them for years so this fits together better(established relationship), Reader and Hunter have some mutual pinning going on ;)

You had worked with the Bad Batch throughout most of the Clone Wars, and they considered you a trustworthy assaset. Of course you were a low life like many others in the galaxy.

You worked odd jobs to make ends meet. From Bounty Hunter to smuggler, you had done it all. The Bad Batch loved you and all that you did, especially when you helped them on jobs or with their ship.

Once the war ended you were making good money off of many jobs, well until some certain clones came knocking on your door. You couldn’t say no to your boys, so you willingly welcomed them back into your life.

Now you were on the run with them; your future career in odd jobs possibly went down the drain now that the Empire was on your ass as well. But oh was it fun working with them again. Sadly Crosshair was left behind and now a slave to the Empire instead of the Republic. You’d miss the grouchy bastard. You’d help your boys get him back soon though.

Since the last time you saw them, the Bad Batch had also gained a new member. A sweet little blonde girl named Omega. She was absolutely adorable, and Hunter had clearly adopted her in his head. He’d do anything for that kid.

It was precious. And it only made your attraction to him grow.

You had always liked Hunter a bit more than the others…..In a different way as well. You believed the feeling was mutual. Well, you hoped it was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*The Havoc Marauder,(The Bad Batch’s ship), Space.*

Currently you are sitting in the ship, Omega sitting in your lap. You were telling her a story about some Bounty Job you had done a few years back. It was an incredible story, and of course you were the badass in it.

You exaggerated the story a bit, and Hunter clearly noticed. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, Hunter looking at you with a knowing smirk. You winked at him before turning your full attention back to Omega.

Her eyes were wide as she listened with great interest. Every now and then she’d interrupt you with a question. She was extremely curious, but still a sweetheart.

“We’re nearly there. The market town is rather large but we could still be noticed. The Empire clearly has a hold on the city.” Tech spoke, glancing at everyone in the ship. “The only way in is with disguises.”

You sat down Omega, “We’ll finish the story later.” You whispered, winking at the young girl. She grinned widely, winking back.

Wrecker laughed from the back, setting down the Gonk droid. “Yeah! Our armor does stand out huh?!” He punched Echo’s shoulder, Echo winching and glaring at his brother. You grinned at the boys.

“Oh I have an idea for Hunter and you.” Tech looked at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Tech knew you and Hunter had been pinning after one another for some time, neither of you making a move. So he’d make the move for you both.

You could nearly read their minds at this point. So you knew just what he had in mind. You glared at Tech, “Bastard.” You mouthed, Tech shrugging his shoulders. Hunter raised his eyebrows, glancing at you both.

“What?” Hunter asked, crossing his arms as he stood up from his seat.

“You two go in, wearing civilian clothes of course. Take Omega…..and pretend to be her parents. No one would have any idea who you are. You’d just be a couple out with their child, shopping the day away.” Hunter glanced at you, something alight in his dark eyes.

“I love this idea!!” Omega chirped, grinning widely at you and Hunter. “We’d be a good family!!” Tech and Echo smirked at you and Hunter. Wrecker looked as oblivious as Omega, but still just as happy.

You smiled nervously at Hunter who merely nodded his head. “Fine.” You spoke as you stood up, walking into the back to change your clothes. Hunter patted Tech’s shoulder as passed him, following you.

Tech grinned at the others once you and Hunter left the room. Omega even knew what was going on. A perfect plan to get you two to hook up!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*The surface of the planet, the ship docks of the market town*

You walked off the ship, your hand holding Omega’s much smaller one. You, Omega, and Hunter were in similar civilian clothes, looking like an average couple with their daughter.

Echo followed with Tech, Wrecker staying on the ship as backup and as a guard. You grinned at their civilian clothes. Echo looked droid like and Tech was in some ugly outfit. Poor Tech looked uncomfortable while Hunter looked extremely comfortable.

“Alright. Separate ways, we grab what we need and bounce.” Hunter spoke, his firm voice making you pay great attention to him. You stared at his lips as he explained the plan.

“Everyone got it?” You nodded even though you hadn’t really listened…..His lips and handsome face were just that distracting. Tech and Echo left first, swiftly disappearing within the crowd of people.

“Alright then. Come on.” Hunter grabbed Omega’s free hand, leading you and her into the market town crowd.

You gently squeezed Omega's hand, “Have that list memorized sweetie?” You questioned, your voice sweet and dripping with honey. Omega grinned at the nickname, nodding eagerly. “Yup!” Hunter smiled back at his “daughter” and you, a soft look in his dark eyes.

About halfway through your little shopping spree Omega paused, looking at a toy cart. You smiled and pulled away from your “husband.” You led Omega to the cart, holding her tiny hand still. Hunter sighed, following you both.

She picked up a toy clone trooper, looking back at you and Hunter with puppy dog eyes. “How can I say no to that?!” You grinned, tossing the vendor the correct amount of credits.

“You spoil her.” Hunter spoke, putting his arm around you. You shrug, “So do you.” Hunter glared at you playfully, the vendor smiling at you both. “Perhaps.” Hunter spoke, leading you away by your waist; Omega followed, one hand holding Hunter’s and the other holding her new toy.

Once you two had all the goods you stopped, out of the way of the crowd of course. “We do make a decent couple don’t we?” You whispered quietly, Hunter’s face inches from yours so he could hear you.

Hunter nodded, Omega ignoring you both as she watched the crowd pass. “We should do this more often shouldn’t we?” He spoke, teasingly brushing his nose against yours. Your face got hot, a wide smile coming onto your face.

“Yes we should.” You whispered, your eyes flicking to his lips. Hunter smirked, finally connecting his lips with yours.

The wonderful kiss was interrupted by Omega screaming, “Ew!!! Tech! Echo! They’re kissing!!!!” You busted out laughing as she screamed over the comms. Hunter clearly died a little bit, hiding his face in your neck.

You laughed harder when you heard the laughing replies. “We’ll never live this down will we?” Hunter questioned. You shrugged, “I hope not.” You muttered, pressing your lips to his once again.

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[pascalpanic]

Stubborn (Din Djarin x gn!Reader)

Summary: Din Djarin is a difficult man, and well, you’re just as difficult. To your surprise, the stone wall of a man might have some weaknesses too: one of them might happen to be you.

WC: 1.7k

Warnings: some cussing

A/N: This was written as part of an art swap for a friend of mine! Reader is heavily inspired by her, but gender neutral- Miki, if you’re reading this, I love youuuu <3 Follow her on instagram @miknickles, she’s a FANTASTIC artist!

You were starting to fall in love with him, you had to admit to yourself, and you hated it. You might be too hardened for love, you thought, even if you knew hardened was one word that more aptly fit the Mandalorian you worked with. His steely exterior was perpetuated by few words and his imposing physicality. He was scary, you acknowledged, when he wanted to be. Your hardness was far different; you were a warrior too, growing up on a harsh planet with harsh citizens and a harsh family. Your hardness was made of your resilience, not your fear-striking abilities. The two of you were similar: hard-headed, intelligent, committed, and damn if you both weren’t stubborn. Stubborn is one word commonly tossed around on the Razor Crest, used to describe you and Mando- Din, you catch yourself, he had told you his name- and the little green baby who lived with the two of you. Stubbornness was what drew Din to you when you first met, repairing droids in the hangar of a local port. Your obstinance was what convinced him that you could hold your own on the Crest when he’s off hunting a bounty, that you could tame the equally stubborn child he had taken into his care.

Pushing aside the revolting emotions curling inside you, you bite your lip and spit out a cuss as a spark flies between two wires you attempt to connect. “Careful, cyare. Little ears are listening,” teases Din from above you, holding the little green child that put you in this very situation.

“Shut it, tin can,” you grumble from your crouched position in the wiring console. “The brain between those little ears is exactly what caused this.” You shoot the baby a teasing glare, and the green being giggles in response, causing a smile to light up your face. “Yeah you, you little womp rat,” you tell him with a teasing snarl, scrunching your nose in pretend anger. That earns another giggle from the kid and the snarl falls, leaving you smiling. “I can’t stay mad at you,” you coo at the baby before turning back to the wiring. “Well, Mr. Djarin,” you drawl, appreciating the intimacy of finally using his name, “did you have something to say or did you come to stare at me?” You ask drily, focusing on the pieces in your hands. 

Din shakes his beskar-covered head. “I came to ask if you needed help, and clearly you do. One more spark like that and you’ll make this whole ship burst into flames.” “I don’t need help. Maybe the ship’s so flammable because this thing is a piece of junk,” you retort back, looking up at him again and holding back a smile by biting the inside of your cheek. “It’s the only pre-imperial ship that hasn’t become a fireball by now.” “It can’t be such a piece of junk if it’s still running,” he fires back, setting down the baby and scooting into the wiring console before squatting down next to you. “Let me help you, mesh’la,” the Mandalorian man offers, grabbing one of the various tools scattered around the floor.

“No. I have this under control. I’m almost done anyway,” you tell him, picking up the tape and ripping off a piece with your teeth.

 “Need I remind you that the Crest has been mine for longer? Maybe you’re better suited to droids,” he says, playful yet stoic as he takes the wires from your hands and applies the tape to fix them together.

You scowl at him and then start fiddling with a filament implanted in the wall, letting him deal with those wires. “If that was true, I could’ve and would’ve hit your reset button a long time ago. Leave me alone, I can do this on my own, Mando,” you turn to him with a playful fire in your eyes.

He shakes his head again under the helmet, bending and picking something else up. “We both know that isn’t true. I’m helping you and you’re going to like it.”

“Aw, you almost made me think there’s a human under that beskar,” you taunt, raising your eyebrows at him and challenging, rapping on the beskar of his chest with a closed fist’s knuckles. “Nope, it’s empty,” you say with a mocking frown.

Smacking your hand away, Din almost laughs through the helmet, the quiet sound he makes too low to pass through the voice filter. “I could say the same about you, cyar’ika.”

“I’m fully human, Mando, all flesh and blood,” you say in a jokingly seductive voice, pouting in a flirtatious way at him. Just like always, you remind yourself, this is just normal flirtation between two friends. As you think about what he just said, you look at his helmet, studying the curves and sharp lines chiseled into the indestructible metal. “When are you going to tell me what all these goddamn Mando’a words mean?” You ask suddenly, curiosity getting the better of you, turning to him and looking him right in the eyes through the visor of his mask. You’ve asked many times, and he always deflects it, giving either a bullshit answer or making something up to chide you.

It always amazes him how you can always find his eyes under the helmet. No one else has ever been able to always see right into his soul, through the beskar and everything, when they look at him. He turns his face away from yours, the direct eye contact too intense even though he knows you can’t see his eyes. “When you stop being so damn stubborn and let me help you.”

“Maker, Din,” you groan and continue to look at him. “You’re really trying to call me the stubborn one? You won’t even take off the helmet when I promise not to look. You won’t tell me about your life, you hide everything about yourself from me even though I tell you all of it. The only damn thing I know about you is your name. You never let me come on a hunt, even after I prove my aptitude to you.” You unintentionally start venting your frustrations with him, angrily ratcheting a bolt into the control panel to hold something else in place. “And yet you still like to call me the stubborn one,” you grunt with a particularly hard push on the wrench. 

The honesty of the words takes Din back for a moment. He didn’t expect you to actually criticize him, only be playfully harsh as the banter between the two of you normally is. The words sink in and he gives a soft nod. “Maybe I am stubborn,” he sighs and stands, leaving you to it.

It surprises you that he left that easily, and that he almost seemed like he had shown his emotion. It was rare that he gave anything away. “Wait, Din,” you call and sigh as you stand, shimmying out of the wiring space hidden in the wall. He’s already walking away, dramatic as always, and climbing up to the cockpit. You follow after him, climbing up and standing behind his chair, daring to rest a hand on each of the beskar pauldrons covering his shoulders. “Din,” you say, somewhat sharp, needing his attention back on you. He spins in his chair and you remove your hands, bringing them to rest on your hips. “That’s new, you listened,” you mutter to him. 

“Do you really want to know about me, cyar’ika?” He asks you, a hand reaching out and taking one that hangs at your side. After a beat of silence, you nod and he pulls you to him, setting you on his lap and continuing to hold your hand. “Well, then I’ll tell you.”

“Tell me what those words in Mando’a mean first,” you ask him, tilting your head and looking down at the black line carved into his mask, where his eyes are hidden.

He sighs and you can feel it in his chest, which your shoulder leans against. “Cyare means beloved. Cyar’ika means... something like sweetheart.” Your heart flutters in your chest. It’s hard to believe he’s been calling you these things the whole time and you had no clue, his brazen flirting in his native tongue being indecipherable to you. He takes a deep breath. “Mesh’la means beautiful,” he admits, voice lowering softly.

The butterflies in your chest have moved to your stomach, settling there and fluttering aggressively enough to cause a hurricane. Your natural coping mechanism comes out again, as always. “Aw, you mean it?” you ask teasingly, moving a hand to the side of his beskar helmet. 

He’s baring his emotions now, so he might as well continue, he figures. “I do,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper as it comes out of the modulator.

You’re taken aback, truly. Your mouth opens softly to say something else, but you stop, biting your lip and looking away from him. You turn back, a smile falling across your face. “I have to admit. I’ve never seen your face, but I think you’re beautiful too, Din Djarin,” you say, voice soft, and press a kiss to the beskar, exactly where his forehead rests beneath it. His breath hitches for a moment and the smile widens a little. “I like you, Din. A lot,” you admit, hand moving to his arm and gently rubbing the space between the beskar armor.

“I like you too, mesh’la,” he breathes out, a hand coming to your waist. “In fact, I absolutely adore you.” He brings you into a keldabe kiss, his forehead meeting yours with the layer of armor between them. It’s the most intimate gesture he can give while in armor, you’re fully aware, and it makes the butterflies scatter all over your body, making you absolutely tingle with the appreciation the Mandalorian’s voice held for you. 

“Din,” you ask softly, breaking your face away from his and smiling gently down at him. He cocks his head in response, waiting for the question that’s sure to follow. “What do you look like under this?” you ask, caressing the cheek of his helmet with your fingertips. 

He chuckles, a low rumble through the modulator. “You can find out when you stop being so damn stubborn, cyare.”

[reluctant-mandalore]

The Artist (Din Djarin x gn!Reader)

Word Count: 3821

Warnings: Fluffy with some angst and an angry Din. He’s a bit mean at first but I promise he makes it right. Not beta read because I wanted to get this out asap. 

Pairing: Din Djarin x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: I couldn’t resist writing, it was just such a sweet idea. I ended up getting carried away, so it’s kind of long lol. As per usual I got some angsty din in here but it’s all fluffy and happy at the end I promise!! Also, Din is a bit mean at first, he’s a grumpy grump who’s mad about his face being plastered everywhere, but he turns into a softy fairly quickly. I tried to stay gender neutral but I may have slipped up sooo yeah. Enjoy!

Original Post: The original post is here and the lovely darling who came up with this idea was @mandowhorian​

Edits: (4)**Reader blushing was removed to made to be more inclusive** (1)Just some grammar and spelling edits done. Also fixed up some of the paragraphs I felt were a bit weird. (2) I was looking back at this so I could post it to AO3 and noticed that the @ to the original poster of the idea was wrong, sorry for any unnecessary notifications!! (3)More spelling and grammar fixes, also fixed a pronoun error. ^-^

  The bounty should have been simple enough. The mandalorian had been tasked with bringing in a lone artist from the outer rim. The artist was overdue on some payments to a lone shark and had seemingly gone into hiding to avoid these payments. Originally, he hadn’t planned on taking the job, but the pay was decent enough and it should have been rather easy. It wouldn’t take much to bring in the little artist, though he had been warned about them having some weird abilities. 

  Din wasn’t too concerned in that regard. He’s seen some weird stuff in his time as a bounty hunter. Honestly he wasn’t sure anything could top the child and his strange powers anyway. Although with that in mind, nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to walk into.  

 The bounty hunter had approached the structure quietly, it was later in the evening and much of the busy crowds were leaving for the night. The studio was small with tables propped out front, most likely used for sales, though today they had remained empty. He had asked some locals about the artist, learning how the artist was currently grieving and wasn’t offering or selling any services at the moment due to it. Many of the locals even saying that they hadn’t even seen the artist emerge from their studio for some days now.  

  Din had ended up watching the little studio for most of the day anyway, looking for signs of the bounty. Truth to the locals words, the bounty never emerged to sell their works. So, with the streets having become empty and with no signs of the artist, he made his way to the entrance of the building. 

 Pulling back the cloth to the entrance of the bounties private studio, Din was met with something he had never expected to see within. His face. Specifically, his face plastered everywhere on canvases around the studio. 

Din had stumbled back in shock at what he saw, knocking over some paint cans as he did. He felt frozen in time standing there staring at the works of art and suddenly felt himself become overwhelmed with a multitude of emotions. 

  Managing to collect himself, he straightened and slowly walked through the room, taking in each painting he saw. Every painting was unique in some way, whether it be from the paint used or the style in which it took. Some were younger versions of himself while others reflected his current aging features. His fingers had trailed lightly across the surface of one painting in particular, a dark and gloomy piece hidden away in a corner. Similar to the others, it was of his face, but this time it was bloody and bruised. His portrait self almost looking to be on the brink of death. 

  Din had a feeling of when this painting had been painted and why it was done in the way that it was. How did they know what he looked like that day? Did they see? He wasn’t even aware of anyone else, other than the droid of course, being there. How did he not notice them? 

  Many thoughts and feelings were pouring through him while looking at the piece of art. Feelings of confusion, anger, and distress had soon consumed him, but the worst of it all had to be the feeling of fear. 

Fear because someone had seen his face. Fear because this meant his creed was crumbling to ashes before his eyes. Fear because it was possible that it may have been like that for longer than he ever knew. Fear because in this moment everything he had worked for was crashing down around him and he wasn’t even exactly sure how it happened. 

  Engrossed with his worries, the Mandalorian didn’t even hear the artist approaching. Coming through a back hallway, the artist had suddenly appeared from around a corner, stopping when their eyes landed on his form. They looked at him from afar, watching him take in the painting before him. Not even aware of the distress that currently wrecked the Mandalorian’s body and mind. Their own head tilting to the side as confusion began marking their own soft features, and wondering why a Mandalorian of all things had stumbled into their studio. 

“Can I help you there? Customers aren’t supposed to enter the studio and I’m not currently taking any orders.” 

  Hearing them speak had snapped him out of his confused daze and he slowly turned his head to stare at them silently. He knew instantly based off the description from the client that this was his bounty standing before him. The Mandalorian’s mind soon beginning work over time to try and comprehend exactly what his target was doing. His mind trying to work out the answers to his bundles of questions. 

 Were they trying to mock him? Trying to act as if they had no idea who he was or what they had done? This had to be a plot that they came up with. They must have known he was coming and had plotted how to distract him. Maybe they just wanted to taunt him? A sort of ‘fuck you I know your face and have ruined your life’ kind of taunt. 

“You’re a mandalorian right? Are you after a bounty-” 

  Din was swift and predatory in his movements, not giving them time to finish their sentence as he grabbed and pinned them to the ground. Their tiny wrists held in his one hand, pinned above their head, while he roughly shoved a blaster to their cheek. His body had soon pressed into theirs as a way to use his size and weight to keep them still underneath him. He radiated danger and had waves of anger rolling off of him. The sight of him in this angry state certainly would have had any number of people running, included the artist if they weren’t currently pinned underneath him. 

  The artist had squirmed under him in panic, attempting to free themselves, but not being able to due to his sheer strength. He could feel the heat from their body seep through his armor into his own, and any other time being this close to someone would have made the Mandalorian flush. However, at this moment, Din wasn’t concerned about such things. He was more worried about the fact that the person underneath him knew his face. 

“What’s with all the paintings? How do you know?” He growled out, his grip tightening around them, his helmet now inches from their own face. 

  A whimper sounded from the artist below him and tears had begun to form at the corners of their eyes, “I-I don’t know what you mean.” Their voice was shaky and their form trembled under his. They were utterly powerless and weak when compared to the Mandalorian. 

 He scoffed at their response, it wouldn’t be the first time a bounty had tried to play innocent and dumb. Shedding some fake tears wasn’t going to soften him up any bit. “Don’t act dumb. How did you find out? Where did you see it?” 

“Find out what? I-” They paused as he had moved the blaster closer to them as they spoke. “I-I really don’t know what you mean!” 

  Admittedly, the job was far from his mind at this moment, all he cared about was dealing with the fact that someone had seen his face. That this person before him had decided to taunt him with the knowledge of them having seen it. Job be damned, it felt like his whole self was destroyed, his creed most likely broken. He could care less about the dumb bounty job. He just needed answers. 

  Din growled again, his anger continuing to grow as they proceeded to deny any knowledge of what he was asking. He ended up hulling them to their feet, his grip never loosening as he did. He turned them around to face the corner which held the painting he had looked at not too long ago. He had pressed himself into their back when he did, a hand coming to roughly grab their chin to force them to look at the painting before them, the blaster still at the ready if needed.

“That face.” He gritted out, his fingers beginning to dig into their skin, “Where did you see it?”

  He watched as their fearful expression morphed into that of one marked with sadness. A frown had now etched across their lips, and they looked away as a few of their tears finally slid down their cheeks. 

Din was surprised by their reaction, he thought for sure they would have given up the whole innocent act by now or would have at least slipped up a bit. However, they didn’t and if anything it only made them seem to be more genuine in his eyes—a thought that both angered and confused him more than anything. 

 Mumbled words was the only reply he got from them at first, their voice barely audible to him, “What was that?” 

“He’s my soulmate... or he was supposed to be at least.” 

  Din could feel himself pale under the helmet at their words, a feeling of shock once again spreading throughout his body, as he found himself letting go of them in an instant. His anger had disappeared completely at hearing their explanation—leaving only confusion in its wake.

 It crossed his mind briefly that they could be messing with him still, but the expression they wore and the sincerity in their voice had stomped the idea completely. They were being serious, and Din had no idea how to handle such information. 

Stepping back from them, the blaster fell to his side. “I.. what?” were the only things he could manage to say in his stage of shock and confusion. 

“Do you know what the force is?” 

“Barely.” 

“Well, through the force, I get force visions of him all the time. They’re usually just his face, his surroundings were always blurry to me, but his face was always clear.” They began to explain as Din listened while remaining silent, “The force is not strong with me, so I think that’s why the visions were not always so clear to me.” 

“So this isn’t just some sort of sick joke of yours to try and mock me?” He asked, still having some trouble in believing what the artist was expressing to him. “You’re not lying just to try and get me to not take you in?”

 He watched as anger had marked their once saddened features, “A joke? You think I would joke about something like this? That I would spend years of my life painting and wondering where he was—wondering if he was safe?” 

  Din stood and just listened as they went off on him. Their anger about the accusation evident as they bitterly ranted to him about his behaviour during the past half hour or so. He continued watching as their rant died down to them just fuming while looking at anything that wasn’t him—clearly upset and hurt by his remarks. 

“If you’re here to collect me for a bounty just get it over with, don’t deepen my grief.” Sometimes he could forget how insensitive he could be. It was already clear enough to not have been some joke or plot. So why did he have to continue suggesting such things? 

 The room had filled with silence after the artist had finished their long winded speech to him, and it felt stuffy with the new atmosphere between them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...” His voice was the first to break the silence before he had trailed off again, “What made you think the visions were of your soulmate?”

 They had seemed to calm again with his question, a sigh escaping their lips as they went to continue their explanation from before to the Mandalorian, “Honestly? I didn’t think such a thing at first, but eventually, I could just feel it.” They paused, seemingly trying to figure out how to word their thoughts before speaking once more, “I guess you could say I just knew that this was the man I was connected to for life. I could feel it in my heart—in my soul. He was the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with, or at least I thought so until the last one….”

 The artist trailed off again, a habit of theirs that Din had noted to himself as he watched them go over to look at the painting properly. Their arms had crossed over their chest now, hugging themselves as if they were cold, but it seemed to be more for personal comfort than anything. Din had took note the expression they wore on their face and suddenly felt a rush of guilt flow through him for how he had previously handled them.

“The last one?” He couldn’t help but question. 

 They nodded and smiled sadly at him as they wiped the tears falling from their eyes “I think I saw him die some months ago. The last vision I had of him was of him looking like that and I haven’t had any visions since.” They had motioned in the direction of the painting before them, only providing more evidence that it was in fact a painting of the face he had wore while on the brink of death that fateful day. 

“So I think he...” their words died in a quiet sob, one of their hands clasping over their mouth as he watched their figure become consumed with grief. 

The words from the locals of the artist grieving came back to him as everything began to fall into place. This person was grieving who they believed to be their soulmate. They were grieving Din and they hadn’t even met him. It was something difficult for him to fathom at first, but seeing how it broke them had made his heart sink none the least. 

“He’s not dead.” The words left him before he could stop himself. The urge to suddenly comfort the distressed artist before him coming to light. 

 The artist turned to look at him suddenly, almost doing a double take from his words “Wait do you know who he is?” They questioned, their expression changing from one of sadness to wonder. “What’s his name? Is he ok? Can you take me to see him? I’ll pay you…” 

Their voice stopped registering in the hunters mind as he tried to comprehend their questions and excitement. They weren’t lying. They were being truthful in everything they spoke and they had no clue that the face in the paintings were his. They truly didn’t know anything about him other than what they had seen in their visions and yet they loved him enough to grieve for him. 

  Din didn’t know how to answer all those questions of theirs. It was him. The answer was simple yet also hard to articulate. The man in their paintings, in their visions, was him. 

That was his face. His face which no one was supposed to see. He almost wanted to yell out that it was him. He wanted to scream to them about the creed and how it was everything to him. 

 The creed he swore might be in question now and he didn’t know how to feel about it other than dread. He understood how some circumstances were accepted in regards to others seeing his face. Did a soulmate having visions fall within those categories? He didn’t know, but really hoped so at this moment. 

  “It’s me.” The words finally wafted out his modulator in a whisper, barely audible, but the artist had clearly caught it. 

The artist had stared at him with shining wide eyes. A hand had come to their mouth again but this time in surprise. Not being able to bear looking at them anymore, the Mandalorian turned away again. as his heart began beating rapidly in his chest at the confession. “It’s my face. It’s me.” 

Their reply was equally as quiet, a mere whisper through the air, “R-Really? You’re not lying?”

 The only response he could muster was a small nod, as he was afraid of how his voice would sound. There were so many things to discuss with them. Things like his way of life and the danger it entailed. He also needed to tell them about the creed, and most importantly, the child in his current care. All of this didn’t even include the things he was sure they had to tell him. 

 Din had jumped at the sudden feeling of their body pressing into his back. His mind blanking at their touch and smell engulfing him. The feeling of them wrapping their arms around his waist had caused a flush to spread over his skin and a shaky breath to barely sound through his modulator. It had been so long since someone had touched him in the slightest and he wasn’t prepared for it to happen like it just had.

 “I was beginning to think I’d never meet you, I mean, I literally thought you died.” Their words were muffled into his armored back and hearing them he felt his heart clench again.

  Seeming to catch themselves, the artist pulled away from him, shyly looking away at the realization of their impulsive actions. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hug you out of the blue like that.” They had managed to stutter out, “It’s felt like I’ve known you forever even though we’ve really just met and I literally thought I had lost you. So I guess I’m just happy.” 

“It’s fine” He replied quietly, feeling his heart skip a beat at seeing the small smile that graced their cheeks from his words. “It should be me saying sorry for how I treated you earlier anyway.” He continued, turning to face them properly and looking down at their wrists he had grabbed so harshly not too long ago.

“I mean you're a mandalorian right? Your kind don’t show your faces to anyone, I’m sure it was quite a shock to see all the paintings.” 

  He was surprised with them having some sort of knowledge of his way of life. Even if it was so little, any amount was better than none. “You know of mandalore?”

The artist shrugged, looking down at their hands as they twirled their fingers. “Only a little of what I have heard. People say you're the fiercest warriors in the Galaxy.” 

  He nodded in reply to them as they fell into an awkward silence once more. Honestly, Din had never talked much in the first place and he had already talked more than what he was used to within the last hour. He also wasn’t really sure where to start. 

  What did they do now? Did he invite them back to the ship? Ask for them to pack up and move in? Maybe they should just call it a night and worry about it in the morning. It was late after all, and of course the child still waited for him to return.  

“Are you going to turn me in? That’s why you’re here right? I’m your bounty.” The artist was still smiling at him even after such inquiries, “I won’t stop you if you want to. Just knowing you’re ok is enough for me. I don’t want to get in the way of your job.”  

Sweet. Too sweet. Maybe even naive. That was how Din would describe them in this moment. He believed them too in their claims, that they would happily let him take them to their impending doom at the hands of some scummy lone-shark. 

Din was honestly surprised to see how easily they just offered themselves up to him. How easy would it be to just take them up on their offer and turn them in. After turning them in, he could then just shove the whole experience into the back of his mind to be forgotten. It would be a simple and easy process for someone of his kind.

“No.” He answered, not even needing to think about the answer for long. There was no way he could turn them in now. “I… it's just…” He trailed off, even now trying to find a logical response to his reasoning. Even if one wasn’t needed in the first place. 

  Many others wouldn’t care. They would turn in the artist without a thought, soulmate or not. It wouldn’t matter to them, but to Din. To him it mattered more than he ever thought it would.  

“Are you good with kids?” He asked them, thinking of the child waiting for him. He could already see the child taking a liking to them and the idea of having some help with the child was something he looked forward to. 

“You have kids?” 

He shifted uneasily at their question, feeling oddly vulnerable in this moment, “Sort of, I have a foundling in my care and have been thinking about getting someone to help with caring for him.” 

 Din couldn’t explain the sudden concern that he felt at telling them of the child. He didn’t understand the sudden want for them to accept the little womp rat. The thought of maybe them not wanting anything to do with him now that they knew he had a child in his care actually scared him. Even worse, he found himself fearing their rejection, already having a desire to keep them with him. 

 Which is why he was happy to see the large grin that had spread across their cheeks at hearing about the child, “I would love to help you with that.” 

“The position is permanent.” He said with a teasing undertone in his voice, not being able to help the sudden bubble of happiness which had swelled within him. 

“Oh I would hope so.” 

  A grin had spread across his lips under the helmet at their own teasing reply, and he found himself closing the distance between them once more. One of his gloved hands had came to their cheek, tilting their head to look up at him. In response one of their own hands, paint stains and all, covered his. He had watched them for a bit like this, before finally pressing his helmet against their forehead. 

A Keldabe kiss.

  He wasn’t sure if they knew exactly what he was doing, but he would explain everything to them soon enough. For now, he just enjoyed the moment he was sharing with them. His eyes closing, as his arms had moved to wrap themselves around the artist to hold them closely. 

They had then stood embracing each other for a while, just allowing each other to take in the other's presence while they did. Honestly Din found himself never wanting to let go of them again—a feeling foreign but not unpleasant for him. 

  Din couldn’t explain why it felt so right to be this close to someone he barely knew. He couldn’t even understand why he had suddenly wanted to spend the rest of his life with this person. The only thing known to him in this moment was that before him stood a person who would be forever intertwined with him.

 His clan of two had become a clan of three.  

-- 

Tags:

@murdermewithbooks @hdlynnslibrary @imalovernotahater @askalphapazvizla @​onlydarth @mandodjarin  @pedrosdoll @fleurdemiel145 @anothermoronintransition

I think I got everyone that either wanted to be tagged or seemed interested in it. Sorry for any missed tags and for any unwanted tags >.< 

[crispyjenkins]

The latest JangObi was fantastic!! Jango is so gone and I love it! Should be interesting to see what happens next. Especially since Boba saw them cleaning each other's weapons.

(no Boba in this one (°ー°〃) super didn’t know what to do to continue this, but i think i like how it came out. the clones are Jango’s kids, who did not sign up to watch him try to woo a new buir, and yet here they are. takes place at least a few months after the last!

@slytheringinger300 who also wanted more weapons courting!)

  “Not a word,” Jango warns as he leads a smirking Rex into Obi-Wan’s command tent, the man bent over a holotable with Skywalker as they plan the next offensive. Obi-Wan smirks far too sunnily for how haggard he looks, turning to lean on the table and cross his arms as he looks Jango up and down.

  “Oh, I’m sure this has an excellent story.”

  “I said not a word, Kenobi.”

  Obi-Wan mimes zipping his lips and tossing away the key —do zippers even have keys?— before nodding over Jango’s shoulder at Rex. “Captain, please tell me Mr. Fett didn’t sneak past your guards again.”

  “Oh, it’s ‘Mr. Fett’ now?”

  “No, sir,” Rex passes a laugh as a cough. “We saw his approach on speeder, he actually came up to the Shinies on guard.”

  “If I get mistaken for one of my kids one more time, I’m disowning all of them,” Jango grumbles, dropping himself into a chair that’s clearly meant for Obi-Wan, and ignores Skywalker’s undignified snort. 

  And Obi-Wan is just smiling at him, exasperated and fond and not even trying to hide it. “You’ll forgive them for the family resemblance, I’m sure,” he chuckles. “Now, I imagine you have a perfectly reasonable explanation for how you found the location of my men’s current secret mission? Again?”

  Snorting, Jango tosses him a datadisk that he easily snatches out of the air. “‘Was already on planet and made an educated guess, don’t flatter yourself.”

  “Mhm, yes, of course you were. And what is this?” he asks, even as he turns to slot it into the holotable to pull up the map of the separatist outpost on the other side of the planet, that Jango had almost been blown up trying to get.

  Obi-Wan sends Jango a raised brow, but wastes no time in changing their plan of attack, calling new orders to Rex and Cody, sending Skywalker to mobilise the 501st, and it should probably say something that everyone in the tent accepts both Jango’s presence and his intel without question. Hm.

  Only when the command tent is empty and the camp is a flurry of activity on the other side of the canvas does Obi-Wan allow himself to sag, still leaning over the holotable, and not for the first time, Jango wonders how any of the Jedi are even still alive. Skywalker only looks a little worse for wear, but Obi-Wan, and Cody for that matter, look hours off a gundark attack.

  “Where’s Boba?” Obi-Wan asks, not raising his head, and Jango can’t find it in himself to keep up the banter.

  “Fisto is on leave at the Temple,” Jango says, drumming his fingers on the helmet in his lap. “The senior initiates are building their own droids this term.”

  Obi-Wan does chuckle at that, something in the sound easing easing some of the tension from Jango’s shoulders. “I’m sure Kit was thrilled to get his hands back on him, then: no child should be that fluent in Binary.” He straightens and tucks his arms behind his back, parade rest coming far too easily to a supposed peacekeeper. “Why are you here, Jango? If you had the forethought to leave Boba at the Temple—”

  “Where’s your armour, Obi-Wan?” Jango interrupts, leaning back to bask in Obi-Wan’s rare genuine surprise. 

  “I’m wearing it.”

  “Cody was worried, ‘said you’ve been leaving more of it behind.” Swinging up to his feet, Jango leaves his helmet on the chair to settle against the holotable perhaps a little too close to be completely appropriate. “You have a death wish, jare?”

  “The armour certainly isn’t preventing my men, or the Jedi, from dying anyways,” Obi-Wan says, poorly masking his grief as condescension. “I see little reason to keep up the farce that I am anything more than a Jedi.”

  Sighing, Jango grabs Obi-Wan’s right wrist, pulling it between them. “But you’ll leave this?” he asks, thumbing at the edge of the blue and silver vambrace that clashes rather horribly with the white and orange pieces Obi-Wan had apparently decided were the only ones necessary. 

  “Well, it would be rather rude of me to toss away a gift, wouldn’t it?” Obi-Wan manages a small smile down at Jango, and twists his hand just enough to wrap around Jango’s white plasteel vambrace in return. “Now, this is hardly the time to be questioning my fashion sense, ‘lek? I have an army to lead. will you be sticking around for the fun part?”

  As if Jango would leave him on the eve of battle. “Is the fun part not seeing my handsome face?”

  “Hm, I’m afraid to say I see thousands of  your handsome face every day.”

  He sighs and lets Obi-Wan tug him upright. “Fair enough.”

-

  “Jango!” Obi-Wan shouts, ducking smoothly under a B2 droid trying to take his head off, and doesn’t even need to use the Force to catch the beskad that flies through the air at him. The Shiny who’d had the misfortune of being assigned “Jedi Handler” for this skirmish chokes on his own tongue, almost forgetting to shoot in his shock at the casual display. 

  Obi-Wan catches sight of Jango’s flamethrower out of the corner of his eye, across the battlefield, but he somehow still has time to shout back, “Where is your ‘kad, jare jetii?!”

  Anakin groans loudly somewhere behind him, Force-shoving a whole squad of B1s into the nearest tank. “You lost it again?”

  “Why should I need it, my dear Anakin, when Mr. Fett is so willing to share his?”

  “Generals, is now really the time?!” Cody barks, jetpacking over a rolled tank to land next to Obi-Wan and hand his ‘saber back, radiating embarrassment and fury. “Please save your flirting for your free time, sir.”

  “But of course, Commander,” Obi-Wan smiles, rapping his knuckles on Cody’s shoulder in thanks before reeling back and launching Jango’s beskad back across the droids between them. He doesn’t wait to make sure Jango catches it, trusting the man to sort himself out if he doesn’t, and joins Cody in leading the push against the second wave of droids. 

  Obi-Wan’s Shiny mumbles something about the regulations on fraternisation. 

Mando’a: buir — “parent”, gender neutral jare — someone taking a life-threatening risk, not a compliment; similar to kamikaze but not a direct comparison. ‘lek — “yeah”, short for elek, or “yes” beskad —  traditional Mandalorian curved saber made of beskar. ‘kad — slang short for jetii’kad/e, or “lightsaber”, lit. “Jedi saber” jetii — “Jedi”, pl. jetiise

[imagineyourworld]

Could I get a Star Wars pairing please? Preferably Original or Sequel trilogy if that’s okay? Thank you so much for doing this!

Name: Elsie

Age: 22

Which gender you wanna be paired with (or your sexuality, if you're comfortable): Male

Preferred pronouns: she/her

Occupation (Job, field of study etc): Writer (hopefully fiction novels one day) and editor

Hobbies: singing, acting, motocross, reading, writing, sewing

Personality (a few strengths and flaws): Stubborn (flaw and strength at times), temper simmers for a long time before exploding, quiet, introvert, anxiety, creative, kind, empathetic, I think I’m hilarious, strong sense of justice, will fight for others more easily than for myself, great at coming up with quips, I have a lot to say but only to those closest to me

Specific character I don't wanna be paired with: anyone on the Dark Side

Anything else that might be helpful: um I’m really not sure? I’m obsessed with X-wings and SW pilots in general. Just the whole premise of good vs. evil in SW really draws me in because I really relate to that fight.

Hi Elsie,

Thanks for your request! Based on what you told me about yourself I would ship you with Poe Dameron. I don't know why, but I think Poe either needs a partner who is just like him or someone who's pretty much the opposite and you seem to be the former. You'd have playful arguments all the time, but at the end of the day you both know that the other is always there for you, no matter what. I hope you're happy with your ship.

Love, Charlie

-------

"I can't believe you just did that!", you yelled at Poe as he jumped out of his X-Wing. The second his feet touched the floor he turned around to face you, a look of fury on his face that matched yours. "You can't believe I did that? What about the stunt you just pulled?" A sigh left your lips. It was like this after most missions, one, or both, of you had done something reckless for a minor advantage in the fight and the other would be worried sick, tension building until it released the minute you were back on base. "I only did what I had to do to win, you just wanted to play the hero", you scoffed. Within a few steps Poe was right in front of you, closer than you would have anyone else allowed to get. "If I hadn't been there to rescue you, you would have been dead." The anger on his face was slowly disappearing, fading into worry. Maybe he wasn't entirely wrong, but he wasn't entirely right either. "I would have been fine." "Oh yeah? Tell that to the hole in your plane." The fire in both of your voices was gone now, the real fight was over and replaced by a battle of wits. "Trust me, it's not my X-Wing you should be worried about. Last I checked my engine didn't give out because you were too busy to check it before the mission", you said with a smug grin, knowing exactly what Poe had been busy with before the mission. "If I remember correctly it's your fault I was busy, you're the one who dragged me away from checking my engine. Tell her BeeBee", he complained, the last words directed at the droid who had found his way to Poe. But instead of backing him up BeeBee just turned to your own droid in a way that children would when their parents were being dramatic. It was a small beep from your own astromech that finally broke the last bit of tension and made both you and Poe laugh. Once the laughter had died down he put his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. "That was some great flying out there", he mumbled into your hair. Though you had been a pilot for quite some time now, you were still not used to compliments, especially from the man everyone considered to be the best pilot. "Thanks", you said while heat rushed to your cheeks. For a few blissful moments the two of you just stayed there, wrapped up in each others arms, unaware of what was going on around you. “If you’re quite finished, I’d like a mission report”, a familiar voice behind you said.  Slowly, not without pressing a kiss to the side of your head, Poe let go of you and the two of you faced General Leia Organa.  “I take it the ‘After Mission Argument’ is finished?”, she asked, an amused smile on her face.  In unison the two of you nodded. Though you knew that Leia would never be too strict with you, you also knew that she expected you to be professional when the time came.  “Dameron, why don’t you come with me? The two of you can celebrate the mission later.”  With a quick ‘Yes, ma’am’ and an kiss to your forehead Poe followed Leia to her office. 

-------

By the time Poe returned to your shared room, you were already dressed in your pyjama and laying on the bed reading a book. It was rare that you had enough time off to actually read something that had nothing to do with missions of the First Order, but today you had decided to reward yourself by starting a new novel.  “That took longer than expected”, you greeted him as the door closed.  With a sequence of quick beeps BeeBee agreed with you.  “Sorry, Leia had something... else... she wanted to talk about.”  You didn’t question him any further. Usually when he didn’t tell you what they had been discussing it was classified anyway and no matter how much you pouted or argued or sweet talked, Poe wouldn’t budge. Though something told you this had not been about the Resistance.  “But guess what I managed to sneak from the mess hall on my way back”, he said. With a winning smile he produced two gigantic cookies from behind his back. A smile lit up your face. Sweets were rare on base, it was close to a miracle that Poe had gotten such a big cookie for each of you.  “Stars, I love you”, you sighed as you took a bite out of your cookie.  Poe, who had changed into his pyjamas in record time, settled next to you with a laugh.  “I do hope you were talking to me and not the cookie.”  Instead of an answer you leaned your head on his shoulder and ran your hand, the one that wasn’t holding the cookie, through his hair.  “Maybe I was talking to both of you.”  Poe hummed as he pulled you even closer. He was always affectionate, but after missions it seemed like all he wanted was to hold you close for hours, as if to reassure himself that both of you were still alive and alright.  “Regardless of who you were talking to, I love you”, he whispered before taking a bite of his own cookie.  You raised an eyebrow, though judging by the satisfied moan coming out of his mouth, similar to the sound you had made earlier, you could understand why he had been jealous of the baked good.  “Leia suggested that we should take some time off, just a couple of days to recharge and come back stronger than ever”, he told you after he had finished his cookie.  You lifted your head to look at him.  “Is that something you’d like to do?”, you asked. Usually the two fo you were pretty similar when it came to your work ethic, at least when the fight against the First Order was concerned, and taking a day off could backfire easily. What if something happened while the two of you were relaxing? Could you bear to live with that guilt? Though getting away from the war for just a few days did sound too good to be true.  “I think so”, Poe finally answered. “Just two or three days, not too far away in case we need to get back for an emergency. But I miss you, I feel like even when we see each other, we rarely actually see each other, you know what I mean?”  You couldn’t help but agree.  “Alright, just three days.”  “Three days”, Poe echoed as he pressed a kiss to your head.  From the position you were in you couldn’t see him glancing to the small box on his nightstand, nor the hopeful shimmer in his eyes. Maybe this vacation would turn out to be a lot more meaningful than you were anticipating. 

-------

I hope you enjoyed a bit of down time with Poe after your mission. 

[rainofaugustsith]

Rain Plays SWTOR: Why Do We All Hate Makeb?

Viri has been going through the GSI dailies on Makeb to bump my GSI reputation up to Legendary, and it's given me time to really think about the planet, and the Rise of the Hutt Cartel story as a whole. I tend to take my characters through Makeb just to spend more time with them, and to enjoy the scenery. Having said that, most players seem to detest Makeb and skip it.  It's weird. Makeb has:  1. Some of the most beautiful scenery ever seen in the game. 

2. Some really stunning design for the houses and gardens. Seriously. Look at this. 

3. Really, really nice decos available from the reputation vendor.  4. Other really nice decos' designs are based on Makeb.  5. A departure, mostly, from the Imps vs. Pubs!! storyline that some of us had grown so bored with.  6. Some interesting creatures such as the exoboars and underwalkers. We all love the exoboars in Vaylin's palace, don't we?

And yet, it's still loathed.  The question becomes: why do we hate Makeb? There are a lot of very valid reasons.  1. We don't get to bond with the NPCs we meet, nor do they play any critical part in story before or after.   With the exception of Doctor Oggurobb, Darth Marr and Chancellor Saresh, the NPCs with whom we interact in the entirety of the Makeb expansion are neither seen nor heard from again. We're kept at arms' length from them. This is different from both the class stories and Shadow of Revan, where the characters we meet become regular presences in our toons' stories.  2. The romances...aren't.  When RotHC was first released, Makeb was called "the gay planet" and a lot was made of the fact that the expac contained the game's first same-gender romances. Considering LGBT+ players got absolutely nothing in the class stories, this was a Very Big Deal. However, the romances fall very flat. For one thing, they're restricted by class. If you're Imperial, there's no wlw for you. If you're Republic, there's no mlm.  The moment that a male OC can have with Lord Cytharat feels like it can work - it's essentially an "I was so scared for you, and I care, and don't ever do that again" sort of moment. The wlw romance, on the other hand, really doesn't feel like one, at least to me. Lemda Avesta never seems particularly into the player's character. As a wlw, I usually avoid this romance because it feels so awkward and forced.  3. It's really grim.  Almost the entire time you're on Makeb, you know the planet is about to be destroyed. Anything beautiful you're seeing is about to disappear. People have lost their homes. It's pretty grim.  There's no happy ending on Makeb. Like, none. The planet dies. Even though it's physically saved, nobody can live there anymore for any length of time. Lots of people die, including some that work with the PC. There's no way to save them in some cases. Even though each side does have a win - the Makeb citizens escape in the Ark; and the Empire gets its isotope -5 - it's very empty because so much tragedy surrounds it all.  While Star Wars isn't sunshine and rainbows, there's usually something positive to perk up a reader/player even in the darkest storylines. At the end of Revenge of the Sith, there's the promise of baby Leia and Luke, both being raised in safety. At the end of Empire Strikes Back, Luke's got a nice new hand, he's safe on a Rebel Alliance ship and he's reunited with Leia and the droids. At the end of SWTOR's class stories, the player has triumphed somehow in their own field, and they usually have controlled their own destiny in some way. Makeb doesn't have that, and I think it makes a difference for replays.  4. It may hit too close to home.  Makeb is dying because people exploited its natural resources for profit. Hmmm. We've heard that before in our own world, haven't we? The mining causes groundquakes. In our world, fracking is said to cause earthquakes. Not only that, but seeing the houses crushed by groundquakes can hit a little close to home to anyone who lives in an area with lots of earthquakes, or has witnessed the destruction they can cause.  While I don't think any sort of environmental message was intended with Makeb, I do think there are things about it that can, even subconsciously, make us feel uncomfortable. 5. The maps and mobs. 

For me, the maps of Makeb are not nearly as frustrating as some of the ones on Taris, Balmorra and Hoth. For one thing, the land is divided into individual little mesas so you're not covering large swaths of ground the way you do on a planet like Alderaan or Tatooine.  Having said that, they can still be daunting. And unlike other planets, there's often no real way to go off the beaten path. If you do, you just might plunge to your death over the edge of the mesa.  Making this more problematic: the mobs. There are a lot of enemy NPCs, and they are everywhere, and you often have no choice but to plow right through them. This makes navigating very tedious. If you're a lower level, it can also make getting from Point Aurek to Point Besh very difficult.  Also, if you have a fear of heights, you may really, really hate this planet. It's nothing but sheer drops and light bridges across chasms in this nook of the galaxy.  6. The gameplay can be very repetitive.  A number of the quests just have the player doing the same or similar actions over and over again. It gets boring.  7. The heroics are hell.  Makeb heroics are incredibly long, complicated and overly tedious. They can literally take as long as some of the very short flashpoints, with ridiculously high difficulty in some cases. I don't think most of us bother with them.  8. It feels very detached from the rest of the story.  Nothing we do on Makeb matters. Or so it seems. What our characters accomplish in the class story, or Oricon, or Shadow of Revan seems to make an impact. RotHC, on the other hand, is something we can literally skip over without it having any repercussions. The only time it seems to come up with any significance is in Onslaught, where it's mentioned that the Empire still has some ships fueled with isotope-5. But even that is said in passing...and if your character never did Makeb, the ships are still fueled. If you're a Republic character, Oggurobb has very little to say to you about Makeb - except to tell you that you've aged badly since then (thanks, dude).  9. Some of the classes don't seem to fit.  Oddly, you would think the underworld characters - the smuggler and bounty hunter - would be peas in a pod here. They're not. You really can't find much of a reason for the smuggler to suddenly be interested in saving a planet's humanity. The bounty hunter isn't given any clear targets to assassinate. It's one of the times where certain classes seem to be really out of place.  10. And there isn't much said about our individual classes.  Each class does get an individualized intro cut scene, as well as some NPCs referring to them as Master Jedi or Dark Lord or whatever, but there's really not much difference doing this as a Jedi or a Trooper, a Sith or an Agent. 

11. The Force isn't a part of things.  It's weird. When things in SWTOR are entirely focused around the Force, it does exclude the non-Force using classes to some extent. When it's completely absent, though, it feels wrong, too. On Makeb, our little space wizards find that there's nothing specific to the Force for them to care about. The alignment of the planet isn't mentioned. No ruins. No weird artifacts someone's left in their mansion. Nothing. It feels slightly disconnected taking a Force user through these areas.  To me, Makeb feels like it had more potential than it received. I've read more than once that there were several other planets intended for expacs that were scrapped; perhaps with them, and a wider arc, Makeb would have played differently. All the same - come here for the scenery. You probably won't want to stay for the gameplay. 

[majorshiraharu]

Boost x Jedi Reader Fluff

Clone-Tober Day 20

Prompts: Character - Boost |  Word - Launch  Link to OP Post HERE | OP Blog Link HERE @/threetinyshinies

——————– Boost x Gender Neutral Jedi Reader ——————– Warnings: Injury ——————–

The Wolfpack and you were in the middle of a firefight, dodging shots left and right you do your best to deflect blasts away from the clones. This was supposed to be a stealth mission but somehow the Separatists knew you were aboard, setting off the alarms not too long after all of you had snuck aboard. "How the kriff did they know we were aboard?!" Sinker yelled trying to take what cover he could behind you, weaving occasionally to avoid the shots that you couldn't deflect. "Honestly there's been a lot of recent missions in GAR that have had similar problems, I'm starting to wonder if we have a spy in the higher ranks," you said between exhausted breaths. Stumbling some as each blast hitting your lightsaber felt stronger and more tiring. "We need to retreat!" Wolffe said leaning against one of the nearby wall supports to avoid the blaster bolts as he tried contacting Master Plo, "General Plo can you hear me, come in..." Nothing but static meets his words, despite not seeing his face you knew he was concerned. "They're jamming out signal Commander," Boost says before seeing a droid who had been shot to the ground aiming up at you. Launching himself at you, knocking you down as he took the shot to the side, a sound of agony escaping him as the blot sears his skin, easily going through that section of armor which was thinner to allow better movement. "Boost!" You cried out, rolling over and pushing yourself up, looping your arms under his so you could pull him to a place with better cover as Sinker covers the both of you. Leaning him against the wall he grunts, clutching his side with his hand. "Here let me take a look," you say gently wrapping your finger around his hand, carefully pulling it away so you could examine his injury. When you place his hand down next to him your fingers release their gentle grip, but before you can move your hand too far away his reaches back, grabbing yours and squeezing it. Looking up at him you only see the reflection of your face in his visor, giving him a small smile before focusing your attention on his injury. "Commander Wolffe, we'll need to get Boost to a medbay as soon as possible, I'll do what I can here but it would be best if we found a way out. I think this mission is a lost cause at this point," you say looking over at Wolffe with a worried expression making it clear to him how badly Boost was injured. "Let me know when he's in stable condition to be moved and then we'll cover you guys," Wolffe called out over the sound of all the blaster bolts being shot. "So how bad is it?" Boost asked tilting his head to look at you.  "Not now I need to focus," you replied, not wanting to think about how bad it actually was, instead, covering it with your one hand focusing the force into it as he held your other hand. "What is that feeling?" Boost questioned, feeling the tingling sensation in his side. "Force healing, my training isn't finished, but hopefully, it doesn't hurt too much."  "Oh no..uh..it doesn't hurt, it actually feels kinda nice," he replied, happy that he had his helmet on so you couldn't see his face as he felt a warmth run through him, - at first wondering if it was blood from his injury, but soon realized it wasn't that at all. "Are you okay?" You asked, noticing the stress in him through the force.  "Uhh....yeah perfectly fine," he said with a huffy laugh, clearly nervous about something. "Don't worry the injury should be alright now, just try not to move too much, we still need to get you to a medbay and have a doctor check it out," you say moving your hand away, gently smiling at him. "Thanks, Y/N," he whispered, still holding your other hand in his, his eyes focused on your lips, watching them as they moved, but not registering the words as his mind wandered. "Boost...Boost can you hear me?" You called, reaching out to place your hand between his neck and shoulder, gently running your fingers along the fabric of his collar, your touch snaps him back to reality. "Huh?"  "Can you hear me?" You repeated. "Oh, yeah -- yeah I can hear you."  "Good, we need to get out of here, I'm going to help you up but just lean on me. - Wolffe he’s stable enough to be moved!" "Got it," Wolffe replied as you slide your arm under Boost’s arm wrapping it around his back, supporting him as he used the wall to get himself to a standing position, groaning in pain as he did so. "Commander Wolffe, we could use some cover now," you call out to him slowly helping Boost move back down the hall to where your ship was docked, learning a trick from Skywalker you used one of the air locks to sneak aboard the ship. Luckily Comet, Sinker, and Wolffe were able to provide enough cover to allow you and Boost to get to safely, placing him down in the cockpit of the ship you instructed him to start it up as you dart back to cover the retreat of the others. "Guys get back to the ship I'll cover you," you shouted force pushing away the droids that were closing in on them, rushing up and igniting your lightsaber deflecting each shot.

------

"Y/N we're clear come on!" Comet called out waving you over. Using the force you rip part of the ceiling down throwing it into the crowd of droids before turning around running down the hall and into the docked ship. "Everyone's aboard let's get out of here!" Sinker said to Wolffe and Boost who were currently controlling the ship. - Sinker and Comet help Boost move to a different seat on the ship so you could pilot it, quickly getting it into hyperspace before any Separatists ships had a chance to shoot you down. After flying to a sector of space that was nearby and marked as safe you instruct Wolffe to contact the Republic, finally, you were able to establish a call with Master Plo who gives you coordinates on where to go. Sinker and you get Boost to the medbay as Comet and Wolffe update Master Plo on the situation and what happened, he revealed that they had been trying to reach you guys to warn you about the Separatists knowing. Sadly they had already jammed your signal before Master Plo could establish contact. "Will he be alright?" Plo asked the doctor who had just finished tending to Boost's injury as you all stood in the room talking about the mission. "He'll be fine, luckily the force healing did enough to keep it from getting worse, just a few days of rest and he should be back to normal. I'll check in on him now and again to replace the bandages," he said excusing himself so he could tend to some other patients. - Everyone decided to let Boost rest some and slowly departed the room, after talking to Master Plo some more you headed back to your quarters to rest some. As you walked down the hall your comm went off, "Hello?" You asked after answering it. "Y/N? Uh...I can't sleep so I was wondering if maybe you want to bring me a datapad so I can work on my mission report," Boost said.  "Boost you're supposed to rest not work on things," you huffed.

"I know I know...but maybe you could help me out with it and then I can rest," he offered, making his voice softer, you swear if you could see his face he was probably making those puppy eyes again. "Uhh fine, but you promise to rest once we finish the report!"  "I promise Y/N." "I'll be right there." He says goodbye before you turn off your comm, heading into your room you grab a datapad that's sitting on your table, quickly walking back to the medbay. 

Coming into the room you see Boost sitting up in the bed, holding his injured area. "BOOST! You're not supposed to be sitting up!" You huffed walking over to check if he was okay.  "It's fine just stung a little," he said smiling at you trying to hide his fear as you glared at him, a pout ever so present on your face. He had scooted over to allow you to sit on the bed, despite your protest, not wanting him to move more than he already had. Handing him the datapad he begins to type things on it. Was it really necessary for you to sit here you thought, watching him while he typed his report into the datapad. "Urgh," he flinches, leaning forward some, dropping the datapad as his hand clenched his side.  "Boost," you say with concern, placing your hand over his and the other around his shoulders. His other hand pulls into a fist, the covers being crunched up between his fingers. "Do you want me to get the doctor?"  "No...I think I just overdid it," he replied with a weak smile and strained breathing. "How about you lay back down, we can finish your report tomorrow." Nodding he allows you to help him lay down, in too much pain to care about that report anymore. You position yourself next to him on the bed, sitting on your legs, placing your hand over his injury, channeling the force into it. - After a few moments, you become exhausted, but he assures you that it already feels much better and not to push yourself too far.

His eyes were closed, brows slightly scrunched up from the pain as he repositioned himself to be more comfortable. Finally relaxing he opens his eyes to look at you, his eyes look tired, but his expression...you couldn't quite place what it looked like, no one has ever looked at you like this. You lean down on your elbow so you're now closer to him. Placing a hand on his face you gently run your thumb along his scars, his lips parted slightly as you dragged your thumb over them, tracing over the scars that ran from his cheekbone all the way down to his chin. As your fingers run over his jawline he tilts his head to look directly at you, his mouth open, like he wanted to say something but just couldn't find the words. Leaning down you kiss him on the cheek, as you moved away his hand came up and gently rested against the back of your neck, wanting to pull you in for a kiss, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Sensing his feelings through the force you knew you weren't the only one who felt this way, and without hesitation you leaned in, kissing him softly. - "Next time don't launch yourself in front of blaster fire so you can get me alone," you whispered against his lips before kissing him more passionately. His hands run up your sides, pulling you down against him as he deepened the kiss.

[fandomlurker]

A Ponderous Rewatch: Prologue

You know, I didn’t think this would happen. I didn’t go into bingeing the 2020 renewal of Animaniacs with the thought “I’m going to watch this and then go and watch the original Pinky and the Brain shorts and spin-off show and do a rewatch and loose analysis on the whole franchise with special attention on queer subtext and themes”. What I initially set out to do was simply watch the renewal and see if it lived up to the show I watched pretty regularly as a kid in the 90s…or at least what I remembered of it through the haze of decades worth of time.

Pinky and the Brain was my favorite set-up on Animaniacs back in the day. Back then I probably wouldn’t even have been able to tell you why beyond “I think it’s funny and the characters are fun to watch as they screw up trying to take over the world”. Other segments were funny to me back in the day, too. Slappy the squirrel was great in that she was basically just like the classic, near-timeless Looney Toons a la Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck, but as an old lady toon who’s seen it all and tries to relate to the changing world while proving that the ol’ slapstick ways still work. The Goodfeathers were entertaining despite the fact that I was a literal child and didn’t even know that it was a big ol’ spoof of Goodfellas. Hell, I’ve still never seen Goodfellas, but three pigeons trying to carry themselves like macho tough guy mafia folks while being goddamn pigeons is still funny with or without that context. And as for the Warner siblings themselves? Their skits were pretty consistently great as well. Lots of that Bugs Bunny-like energy of putting terrible folks in their place when they annoy you while coupling it with the dynamic of three child siblings who are very, very active and much too clever for the average person. It was fun!

But as I watched the 2020 reboot with its stripped-down cast now largely consisting of just the Warner siblings and Pinky and the Brain segments for the season (And I’ll be honest, some of the segments from the 90s like Katie Kaboom, Buttons and Mindy, and the Hip-Hippos are ones I’ll be happy to never have return because they were godawful even back then), it brought into focus the strength of those segments compared to most of the others from the old 90s line-up: The strong dynamic and chemistry of the relationships between the main characters of those skits. The Warner siblings are a trio of kids who, despite being truly cut from the same wacky cloth as the most beloved of Looney Toon characters, also very much tap into a very realistic depiction of sibling relationships. Sure, they get on each other’s nerves sometimes. Sure, sometimes they have disagreements on how they view a certain situation. At the end of the day, however, they care about each other more than anything else and work in such perfect sync despite differences in who they are individually.  Sure, Yakko is a talkative theater kid jackass who sasses back at the drop of a dime. Sure, Wakko is kinda quiet and spaced-out and he has the appetite of a garbage disposal. Sure, Dot is adorable and witty and loudly and proudly feminist with an oddly feral streak. But if any one of them is inconvenienced or picked on or threatened in any way by someone, even if that someone is a powerful celebrity of some sort? You bet your ass the other two will immediately back their sibling up and make their tormentor’s life a living hell for the next however long the skit lasts. They’re little gremlin children who love one another, and have a surprisingly tragic backstory that actually speaks to a lot of fans on several levels.

But, okay, the bond between the Warner siblings is great and fun. What about Pinky and the Brain? What makes their dynamic stand out?

Folks, that’s where things get a little more…interesting. To me, at least.

So, watching the beginning of the 2020 reboot got me to slowly remember the parts I loved about the Pinky and the Brain skits from Animaniacs…were actually from their spin-off show. And the things I remembered most clearly from the spin-off were the more heartwarming moments that showed how much they cared about and loved one another, despite Brain being exhausted by Pinky’s dimwitted antics at times. And for a supposedly continuity-light cartoon show, there was a surprising amount of consistency to the main duo and their motivations. There was even a handful of reoccurring side characters the audience was expected to recognize from past episodes, as well, which is a bit strange to have for a show that initially seemed to aim to be strictly episodic. I remembered the odd amount of depth there was to the series. Nothing groundbreaking, mind you, but definitely something more than the average comedy cartoon.

So after watching the first few episodes of the reboot, I took to Tumblr to see if anyone remembered the old 90s show and to see how they were reacting to the new one. In doing so, I came across this post:

“i love that ppl make jokes abt a pinky and the brain version of the destiel confession because that. already happened....... the only difference is that brain pulls pinky out of superhell instead of dying on a barn nail”

Now, look, I’ve never watched Supernatural and only know it through Tumblr cultural osmosis, and at the time we were all riding off the high of the madness that was the finale of that show and the fallout from it. But ANYWAY…

This piqued my interest because 1. I didn’t remember watching an episode of Pinky and the Brain where anything like that happened, and 2. I was already picking up strong gay vibes from the reboot only a few episodes in. So, basically, I just had to hunt down this episode to sate my curiosity and see for myself if there was subtext in this 90s cartoon that I hadn’t quite picked up on as a kid.

I found the episode and started watching it. “Wow,” I said to myself, “this is a lot gayer than I remember…” And after finishing the episode, memories came flooding back to me:

That time the Brain fell for a girl mouse that was looked and acted lot like Pinky.

All those moments where Pinky would wear drag to disguise himself as Brain’s significant other in one way or another to further their plans for that episode, and how I could never remember it being ridiculed.

That one time they accidentally had a child together via a science mishap.

The ending of the Christmas special!...

And as I sat there, dumbstruck and searching Tumblr’s tags to see how far this particular rabbit hole (mouse hole?) went, everything finally clicked in my little bisexual mind.

This was one of the big reasons as to why I loved the Pinky and the Brain skits so much above all the others on Animaniacs all those years ago when I was a kid. It was the same sort of thing that subconsciously drew me to many of the cartoons and anime and media in general I loved as a child, back before I had the proper knowledge and self-awareness to know or express it.

Looking back on my life, I’d always gravitated to and resonated the most with stories and media with queer content in text or subtext. And sure, this cartoon was/is no Sailor Moon or Revolutionary Girl Utena with explorations of gender roles and queerness. It’s no Steven Universe or She-Ra with out and proud queer characters. It’s no The Little Mermaid or The Happy Prince where the stories were made by queer authors and subtextually about queer experience.

However…

However…!

I was surprised to find how deep the gay subtext went with Pinky and the Brain. Hell, I still am. This little Warner Brothers, Looney Toons-pedigree, continuity-light show about two lab mice trying to take over the world in bizarre, hilarious ways has such a weirdly continuous, heartfelt, touching, engaging, and sometimes outrageously raunchy queer undercurrent to it. All done in the 90s! It’s kind of baffling.

This is not to say that the creators and writers of the shows deliberately set out to do this. I don’t believe that anyone involved sat down and said to themselves “I’m going to make this so fucking gay!”. Sure, the voice actors of both Pinky and the Brain have said that they played the dynamic with “the energy of an old gay couple” and they’ve said plenty of suggestive or outright not safe for work things in the character’s voices in interviews and at convention panels. I firmly believe that they’re just having fun as the characters, just as much as I believe the writers were probably just having fun and putting in the gay subtext and suggestive lines as a kind of long running joke and seeing how far they could take it.

(By the time of the Pinky and the Brain comics, however, I’m not so sure. Some of the stuff they got away with in those issues is…amazing, to say the least.)

Regardless of actual intent, I think the writers of Pinky and the Brain (both old and new), have accidentally created a sort of subtextual, yet pretty powerful love story. And you know what? I want to rewatch this story for myself and write down my thoughts as I go along. I tried something similar quite a while back with Droids, and while I kind of ran out of steam as my life got busier and never finished, I have time now for something like this.

I should also say that I’m not out here to, like, convert anyone into shipping cartoon mice together. I imagine most people see Pinky and the Brain as nothing other than very close friends, and that’s a completely valid viewpoint to have. I doubt there will ever be some sort of canonization of a gay relationship between the two, as I imagine most of the writers on the new show (and hell, on the old one) are heterosexual themselves and would view such an idea as “ruining the comedy and the dynamic of the characters” or something similar. I’ve been in the fandom game long enough to know better than to hope and expect any media to sincerely tackle queer relationships in stories that only have the subtext there, especially in comedies.

I guess I’m doing this more to explore something I loved as a child and to see if I can find just as much if not more enjoyment from it as an adult, albeit maybe for different reasons. Hell, it’s also an opportunity to peek into a kind of time capsule from the 90s regarding how far queer subtext could be pushed back then, even when heavily couched in comedy. This is just a little project I wanna do for fun in my spare time. And hey, maybe a few of you out there will have some fun reading it too, who knows?

Either way, see you sometime soon in the new year.

[starwarsfic]

Breathe In With Hunger

Originally posted September 13, 2020

Summary: Obi-Wan had spent his whole life keeping his species a secret, until the Clone Wars made that impossible.

Details: Sithspawn Stewjoni AU.

xxxxxx

Obi-Wan hadn't known what to expect from the clone medical staff--he'd seen how efficient the troopers were, he almost hoped that he'd be able to get in and out of medical without any fuss.

That, however, was not to be.

"General," the medic, who had finally introduced himself as Sleep, seemed baffled by something and Obi-Wan braced himself. "Your medical records require Council authorization."

"Ah."

His casual acknowledgement called more notice to them than he'd thought it would, the focused attention of so many similar people clawing at him in the Force.

It also didn't help Sleep's attitude and, from the bags under his eyes and the tell-tale sign of stim-caused tremors, Obi-Wan was beginning to understand the name was possibly an in-joke. "General, I can't treat you if I don't know even the basics about you. It's the entire file except your name and birth date! Even your gender is redacted!"

He shifted, glancing around them. Only clones.

Whatever that meant. As he still wasn't sure how he felt about Jango Fett creating a supposed army for the Republic.

Alpha-17 was there, shifting closer to them with his tell-tale scowl. Beyond him, a few other troopers lingered, ones that had been on the recent mission with them, back-up when no other Jedi, not even his Padawan, were available.

Thus, too, why Obi-Wan wasn't being seen by a Jedi healer who already knew about him.

They all felt safe. Alpha had certainly proven himself time and time again to Obi-Wan.

And if the war continued on as it was going, they would all find out sooner than later, regardless of how careful Obi-Wan was. Perhaps an early warning would garner him the troopers' help in hiding himself in plain sight.

"Do you know what a Stewjoni is?"

Sleep blinked at him, like a droid that had just rebooted, and then startled. "You...but...." His fingers flew across the datapad in his hand, most likely at whatever medical information he'd been able to collect from their own databases. "That would explain the copper levels," he finally allowed, seeming to fumble over his words.

Beside them, Alpha-17 let out a low string of curses in Mando'a, a few that even Obi-Wan didn't know. "That would have been good to know, General," he bit out the title, condescending. "Especially with how the Sith are always all over you."

"I apologize for the oversight, Alpha. It has never been necessary information for those who temporarily worked with me, before."

Obi-Wan needed the distraction from thinking about the Sith--the feel of them against his senses, the smooth Darkness that flowed out of them. His instincts were dulled by over three decades with the Jedi and still they were so, so hard to resist when he was injured and someone like Ventress was right there.

He still remembered the taste of the Sith on Naboo, his instincts tearing through him after watching the killing blow delivered to Qui-Gon, feeling their bond start to come undone. It had just been the slightest amount, enough that he'd come out of the encounter with not even a bruise, but it had made his food taste like ash for months after.

"What do I need to know, sir?" Sleep dragged his attention back from places he really shouldn't let it go.

With a sigh, he motioned for the datapad and reluctantly logged into his own medical profile, watching as two lines became a short lifetime of information. "This is full access, trooper. I expect you to be discreet."

Sleep nodded and, distracted as he was, barely said anything when Obi-Wan slipped from the room. It wasn't as though he had gone alone, Alpha-17 was at his back the whole walk to his own temporary bunk in Tipoca City.

"If you're looking for another apology, Alpha, I'm afraid one isn't coming."

That just earned him a snort, Alpha-17 closing the door behind him and standing in the private room like he was a common fixture and not a new oddity in Obi-Wan's life.

"Your blood was blue."

"Excuse me?"

"After Ohma D'un. I thought it was some trick of the weapon you'd been exposed to."

Obi-Wan licked his lips, glancing down at his wrists where carefully crafted tattoos gave the impression of near-human blood vessels under his light toned skin. "I have an implant," he said, finally, "that helps make my blood look red, or close enough. It had failed by the end." The added iron often made him feel sickly and he'd been almost glad that it wasn't working, with how much damage his body had taken.

"Do you need...accommodations?" When his answer was a raised eyebrow, Alpha-17 glowered and continued, "Like General Koon or General Fisto need. Environmental? Special rations?"

"Have I given any indication that I do?" Now it was Alpha-17's turn to give him a look. "It's not...you must understand, my people were manufactured. We're quite capable of living in very diverse environments and, when our preferred food is scarce, living off of nearly anything." He gave a wry grin. "Though, despite it all, I'll never be as fond of live insects as my Padawan is."

Alpha-17 grimaced, remembering a few particularly harsh campaigns where Anakin had become creative with additions to their GAR-issued rations. He remained silent for a few moments, clearly working through something serious, and Obi-Wan took the time to prepare some tea for them. The ritual of it, adopted from his own Master (who adopted it from Dooku, though Obi-Wan tried not to think of that), was comforting.

As much as he'd deny it, this was a nerve-wracking evening. The last time he'd revealed himself had been when he'd taken Anakin as his Padawan, needing the boy to understand the idiosyncrasies he might notice and the difference in emotions that would flow down their bond. Anakin had already been facing so many changes, and had such a unique perspective compared to the Core and Mid-Rim peoples that Obi-Wan normally encountered, that it had gone easily.

He wasn't sure how the clones would actually take the information, when they had time to process it. Obi-Wan was aware that how human he looked could often be unsettling to those who knew the truth. That his whole being could come across as a lie in itself.

"Are you holding back?" Alpha-17 asked into the silence, after Obi-Wan served him tea in a delicate cup, as if sensing his thought process.

"What do you mean?"

"During our fights. Are you holding back because you're...hiding."

Obi-Wan stroked his beard with one hand, the fingers of the other tapping against his cup. "I suppose, if you wanted to be fully accurate, I am. But it's not because I worried you would find out," he hurried to add, "it is because if I were to stop...it would be very difficult to come back from that."

"What does that mean? You would...go feral?"

He coughed out his sip of tea, trying not to laugh. "No, Force, what sort of odd fictions are you troopers reading?" Alpha-17 had the good grace to look embarrassed. "I could far more easily take on someone like Ventress or even Dooku himself if I used my...natural abilities. However, I do not know if I could stop myself from...feeding from their essences. Which in turn would kickstart a healing process in my body that could very well reverse all the very extensive, and expensive, surgeries I have had over the years and possibly get the Order in trouble for harboring such a dangerous creature as I."

"Right. Because...you don't really look like this."

"Is that a problem, trooper?"

Alpha-17 regarded him and Obi-Wan was confused by the weight of the hurt settling within him at the hesitation. "No, General. I can't say I'm not curious about what you'd really look like, but it's no problem from me." He scowled. "I'm not some longneck who is going to judge you for not being exactly what I was expecting."

***

Sleep died in an explosion four months later. Alpha-17 disappeared into Tipoca City to train ARC troopers after severe injuries towards the end of the first year of the war. The others who new were picked off here and there, the rate of survival for the troopers worryingly low.

Obi-Wan told the medics of the 212th, when he was finally assigned to them, but he did not tell anyone else. The longer he went without doing so, the less he felt like he could.

It was Ventress who told Cody, taking great delight in stroking the scars along Obi-Wan's exposed back as his vulnerable Commander struggled against his bonds. She had a thing for stripping clones that Obi-Wan didn't like, anymore than he liked how she kept chaining him up whenever she caught him.

"He's a pretty thing, isn't he?" she cooed at Cody, carding a hand through Obi-Wan's sweaty hair. "But...why? Isn't it odd, Commander, how he seems to be nearly everyone's type?" Her smirk was self-satisfied and Obi-Wan wanted to kick it off her face. "As if he were...made...to appeal to people, regardless of their species."

Cody just seemed confused, at least at first. What he might have said was lost behind the gag that Obi-Wan found himself more and more thankful for as Ventress continued, pointing out the marks of his surgeries. Where his spines down to their very base had been dug out, where his eyes had been capped over with lenses, where his ears had been cut down and reshaped.

When she stripped down his lower body and gave Cody a view, the anger and distress coming from the clone had sharpened into rage.

As soon as they were free, it was all Obi-Wan could do to keep Cody from beating Ventress to death with his bare hands. Which was...more flattering than he wanted to admit.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Commander," he said, as they settled into the command center of the ship they were now alone on and waited for their rescue.

Cody stared at him. "Sir, that's private information. As long as the medics knew, that's all that I would expect from you."

"Truly? You're not...unnerved?"

The answer was a shrug and what might have been the beginnings of a blush, Cody's shields once more impeccable enough that Obi-Wan couldn't actually tell his feelings in the Force. "I admit it...answered a few questions I had...but it's none of my business."

"Questions about my attractiveness?" he supplied, remembering Ventress using that as a starting point.

"You do, uh, seem to garner a lot of...cross-species interest, General."

Obi-Wan gave a gentle smile, an expression he'd practiced as a youth after noticing how the humans around him responded to it from others.

"My people weren't originally created by the Sith, like every other species of what are called 'Sithspawn' they took us and twisted us to their purposes. Sith Flesh Alchemy allows for otherwise incompatible species to breed, so that they can adopt attributes the Alchemists thought would be useful." His smile turned wry, an expression that felt more natural on his face these days. "I am attractive to so many species because I was genetically engineered to be so. The closest translation into Basic for 'Stewjoni' is 'Siren,' if you know any old Aldeeranian myths."

That got Cody's attention. "You had me read those. I thought it was just...entertainment."

"Ah, you've caught me, my dear. They're not accurate per se--as you can tell, my people no longer spend much time in the water--but they serve as warnings."

"You thought we needed a warning about you? Sir, we know you would never--"

He held up a hand, stopping whatever Cody was about to say. "When Sith are involved, Cody, when they've created you, in a way, you can never be fully trustworthy. There's always the chance that somehow, someway, they still have their grip on you."

His kind weren't prone to nightmares, but everyone he'd had since the war had started was the same--Dooku's shadowy Master finding a way to turn him on his people, on his troops, with little more than the properly worded phrase.

Cody watched him, sadness seeping out from his shields. "General...Obi-Wan...just because those demagolka changed your people somehow...that doesn't mean you're monsters."

"Not just monsters, perhaps."

***

Obi-Wan was not capable of hate, not in the way most species felt it. He knew what it was, knew what it felt like rubbing against him in the Force like a tamed tooka, what it tasted like flooding him as he sipped from a Sith opponent, but he didn't feel it.

If he could, he was almost certain that he would have fallen sometime between being shot at by his suddenly blank-feeling troopers, hearing from Yoda of how most of the Council had confronted Palpatine--Sidious, and having to watch the recording of Anakin slaughtering his way through the Temple.

"You went hunting a Sith without me?" the hiss in his words was the only sign of his emotional turmoil and he tightened his hands and tried to get himself together.

How many of his colleagues--his friends--would still be alive if they had waited?

“Important, it was, to strike quickly.” Yoda’s ears were tucked closely to his head, his shoulders slumped, but Obi-Wan had little sympathy. “The Will of the Force, to act.”

“To act without thinking, to rush headlong against a Sith powerful enough to hide from all of us,” he shot back.

Obi-Wan had known--had accepted--that a war against the Sith would mean exposing himself fully by the end. He’d even imagined that it might end up being against the hidden Sith Master, had looked into ways of reversing some of the procedures he’d gone through--at the very least for claws and teeth, and venom--and none of that mattered, apparently.

He didn’t think he could take Sidious by himself, not when the man would be prepared for attacks and surely knew what he was.

If they’d waited until Obi-Wan had returned, he could have given them the upperhand. “I sincerely doubt the ‘Will of the Force’ wanted the Jedi slaughtered,” he muttered, finally, starting off into the catacombs they hid in.

“Go to face Sidious, do you?”

“No, I’m going to find Anakin. There’s nothing we can do against Sidious, not right now.”

***

The first place he thought to look was with Padme. How many times had he and she played a game of pretending he didn’t know Anakin had spent the night there? How many times had he taken up the role of possible illicit paramore to draw attention from her closeness with Anakin?

She was near-panic, clouding the Force with her strong emotions, but she understood what they needed to do. If Anakin was caught in a torrent of the Darkside, they’d need to be very careful in talking him down.

“If we can’t reach him...will you kill him?” Her hands clutched her rounded belly, as though the children within could understand the conversation and needed comfort.

Obi-Wan took long breaths, staring down at Mustafar as the ship approached. The whole planet was rife with the Dark, making his instincts claw at the back of his mind. But it was Anakin he felt most strongly, the blazing sun of his Force present nothing but rage and fear, now.

“If we can’t reach him, that means it’s not Anakin anymore. We don’t know what Sidious did to him to get him to this point.” His hands clenched, imagining some of the stories his people shared of Sith crimes. “There might just...be nothing left of him.”

He was upsetting her, perhaps unnecessarily, but he needed her to know. Needed her to be prepared.

“Your children must be your priority, Padme. It’s what he would have thought, too.” They stared into each other’s eyes, her trying hard not to flinch away from him.

Outside, the volcanic air was harsh enough that Obi-Wan worried for her health--and Anakin's. The Force could do much, but if he wasn't careful, Anakin would ruin his lungs. He'd always been so reckless with his own body.

xxxxxx

A/N: This got a little too long to just be shoved in my drabble collection (where you'll find some other stuff using the same headcanons) so I decided to make it it's own work, even though I rewrote the ending like six times over the last few weeks. 

This post has everything so far about my headcanon, but in short: Stewjoni were originally sentient predators that fed off of Force users in particular and when the fallen Jedi alchemists met up with the Sith and found out about them, they experimented on them and made them into basically Sith hunting pets.

The very original idea was because I really can't stand Stewjoni (considering it was a joke that Lucas refused to back down on) and "Stewjon is Space Scotland," and there's this Scottish legend called a "baobhan sith" that's like a siren.

Sleep is one of my clone OCs.

[kiame-sama]

The Mandalorian, The Child... The Stowaway?

Hello lovies~! I am here with stories for you~! I might continue this one or make a series of it. I dunno.

Anyway...

Warnings: injury, semi-sad moment, the kid is a cute brat, Mando ain't got time for this, Jawas.

~~~~~~

"I can't fix something that isn't broken."

"I saw it break, there is no possible way nothing's wrong with it."

"Then I guess you got lucky."

The mechanic waved away the confused and slightly irate Mandalorian who only glanced back at the Starcrest in disbelief. He knew for a fact some internal systems had been broken in an attempt to keep him from leaving with the child. He examined them himself beforehand, they were all damn near fried completely.

He didn't fix them, that's for damn sure. So who the hell did? The kid? No, Mando was fairly sure that the kid couldn't do something like that even with the odd abilities.

Was he that exhausted from the fight that he imagined they were damaged? It had happened before, but not like this. He was fairly clear-headed when he examined the ship and took note of the fried components. There was no reasonable explanation to it.

He let out a long sigh of frustration, pleased the ship was fine, unsettled that it had mysteriously fixed itself. As he made his way back up the hatch he heard an interesting noise. It was the kid. Laughing.

Now that was never a good sign.

Breaking into a sprint he made his way up to the cockpit, hastily opening the doors to see just what the kid had gotten into. What he found was... Nothing. The kid hadn't gotten into anything.

Then why was he laughing?

Now suspicious of the odd behavior of the child and the sudden repairing of the ship, Mando decided to scan for lifeforms on the ship. He didn't have to look long before a blip caught his attention. It was right behind him.

He fired his blaster in the direction of the threat and heard a feminine hiss, the child suddenly breaking out in frantic wails. He only glanced away a moment and when he looked back there was a figure laying on her side on the floor of the ship. They held their bleeding shoulder and was doubled over in pain. The robe they wore looked hauntingly similar to that of the Jawa, but this being was far too tall to be a Jawa.

"Who the hell are you?"

"I'm-"

"Why are you on this ship?"

"I-"

"Tell me!"

"I will if you stop cutting me off everytime I try to speak!"

There was a moment of silence, blaster still pointed at the stranger ready to shoot. The voice was feminine, but that didn't mean a damn thing to Mando. Many races could sound all sorts of ways and besides, gender meant nothing when it came to a damn threat on the ship. It was then Mando's hand holding the blaster began to shake, slowly moving against his will away from the strange woman. He quickly glanced over his shoulder to see it was the kid doing it.

But why?

"I've been here since you took the kid in the first place. Why the hell do you think he's never cried or thrown a fit?"

"How did you get on?"

"You were distracted and I saw a way off planet."

"Why this ship?"

"Did you happen to see any others anywhere on that planet? No? The nearest click? Nothing ever leaves the planet and I don't know how to fly. This was my best bet."

Given the fact that the kid- who was now passed out- went through so much trouble to get the blaster away from the being, Mando decided to do things differently. He grabbed a few things to patch up the wound he had given them before going on one knee before them.

The being looked over at mando, a black shroud covering their face making it near impossible to make out features, but it certainly was no Jawa. There was a moment of hesitation before the being accepted the items, drawing back to treat their own wounds. They let out a low hiss as they began silently treating their wound, incorrectly.

He sighed and shuffled closer, taking the items from the tense being and treating the wound himself, seeing as he actually knew what he was doing.

"Don't get hurt all that often, do you?"

"... No."

Now Mando started to feel how others must feel when talking to him. He was the one with short responses and no small talk, but he had to know more about his sudden and mysterious new associate.

"Fine. You came on here, then what?"

"Then nothing. I didn't know what I was doing the moment we got off planet. I had never left it before. So I did what I grew up doing, fixing, hiding, stealing."

"You stole from the ship?"

"No. Any time you would stop at a planet I would gather things I or the ship needed."

Another silence passed over the two as Mando silently took the being's words into mind, now realizing why the ship was always in such good condition and why things seemed to fix themselves. And their words certainly were true, nothing had gone missing from the ship, the child hadn't made a fuss the entire time, and it seemed the stranger was doing far more good than harm.

But that begged another question.

"What have you seen?"

"Nothing."

"I mean how much of me have you-"

"Again, nothing. I know the stories of Mandalorians and I know they never show their faces. I made sure to avoid you any time it seemed like you were going to remove your helmet, even if you didn't."

"Why? Any other would have taken the chance."

"I'm not here to ruin your life, insult your code, take your money, or hurt the kid. I just wanted to get off that planet for once in my life."

A noise almost like a chuckle came from Mando, but it could have also been a cough. As he finished wrapping the wound- which honestly wasn't that deep- he stood up, offering his hand to the stranger. After a moment of deliberation, the stranger allowed themselves to be pulled up by the firm grip.

"So what will you do now? Will you throw me off the ship, or dump me at the nearest inhabitable rock?"

"..."

"Well?"

"You can stay."

"Truly?"

"Yes. No more sneaking around."

"Deal."

"What cut do you-?"

"None. I can steal what I need from other planets. I just want to be allowed to stay on the ship... I've grown attached."

"To the ship?"

The being stood silently, as if trying to find an answer or process what to them seemed like an obvious answer to the pointless question.

"Yes. And to the kid... And to you."

"I don't need attachments."

"I know. That's why I've tried to stay hidden and out of your way. But, unfortunately, Jawas get attached to their ship and everything in it."

"You're Jawa?"

Another moment passed before the hooded stranger lifted their hands to the hood, pulling it back off of their head, the shroud going with it. Beneath was a surprisingly beautiful human face. Human (s/c) skin, (e/c) eyes, (h/c) hair. Certainly not a Jawa.

"I may as well tell you my little sob story and get it out of the way. I don't exactly want to surprise you and get shot again."

"There's no need for that-"

"Yes, there is. I get Mandalorians don't share, and I respect that, but it is important to me you at least know what's going on with me. A show of good faith. Maybe it will help you down the road, I don't know."

"Fine. Let's hear it."

It was then the kid came around, having spent such little energy on moving Mando that he was able to bounce back quickly. He blinked in a bleary eyed way around the cabin before extending both arms to the being with a happy giggle. The stranger wasted no time in picking up the child, allowing him to pull on their ears, hair, and nose. It was clear the child was very familiar with the stranger, cooing and giggling as he played with the hem of the stranger's robe.

"My name is (y/n). I'm obviously not a Jawa, but I was raised by them. I was traded to them by some disgusting monster of a human who wanted drugs in exchange for his own infant. Instead of killing me or trading me again, they raised me instead as a Jawa. I grew up as one, learning the full language and the basic art of stealing and trading it back to the person we stole it from, usually for something of greater value.

"But then things began to happen around me. Broken machines or droids came back to life, even when they were fried. I could understand their beeps and silent communication through electricity waves. Somehow people heard about me and came looking for me, to kidnap or to kill, I don't know. Many of my friends died protecting me. I had to leave to stop the killing.

"... Jawa grieve, you know. We mourn all of ours that die. It may be a surprise, but most Jawa communicate with each other around the galaxy. Better to have good connections for such small and fragile creatures when an entire galaxy is against you."

The stranger let out a soft laugh with pain in their eyes, holding the child close. The child gently cooed and lowered his ears as he took in his sad friend, becoming sad as well.

Mando said nothing, allowing the stranger to ramble as they wished, sharing what they wanted to share. It was a surprise to hear of any Jawa taking in a child as their own, but Jawa were strange after all. Mando knew it was a benefit to keep (y/n) around seeing how many of the damn things he runs into. Someone who was able to understand the Inner Jawa language instead of just the Trader Jawa was a useful person.

"Do you know why technology is different around you?"

"My kin said I was something called a Technopath, so basically someone who can communicate with, power, and control machines. Droids included. It can be useless at times and life saving at others."

Mando nodded, wondering faintly if you knew how to control and talk to the ship, but he would find out later. This odd human was a member of his crew and he didn't even know it. And thankfully they seemed to do more than their fair share of work. The kid was a handful, the ship was always getting damaged, and no doubt they've already taken stock.

This controlling droids business was something he curled his lip at, due to his hatred for them, but it was also a useful trait... If it was true.

What he knew for sure was this human had somehow hid directly under his beskar the entire time he had been dealing with the kid. They could have killed him if they wanted to and the fact that the kid clung to (y/n) just like how he clung to Mando proved a lasting level of affection.

So long as (y/n) pulled their weight, Mando would have no problems with them. Hell, they didn't even want payment, which made his life easier. He didn't have to adjust anything or change how he lived, but now he could see and interact with his unknown crew member.

"Where do you sleep?"

"The floor."

"Get a second bed installed."

"... Yes, sir."

[sethnakht]

Vader for the Character meme thing,

do I like them: like is not strong enough a word. j’adore this crazy murderbot, he’s like my emotional support animal. that being said, it would probably take writing a book to figure out why I would sell the moon for this trash can

5 good qualities: urk lbr he doesn’t even have five emotions

At his core, he loves wants his family intact and safe - wants to be loved.

He has a code - a very twisted one, but it’s more than one can say for most - of honor. That is to say, he asks for the very best from his men (Kreel, whom he even trains and sort of implores to carry on the legacy of the Jedi) and rewards merit (Piett) and sacrifice (Trios) regardless of gender (his female aide in Purge) or species (bounty hunters), if only so long as it is in his own interest to do so and without ever taking steps to change the status quo. Genuine or even grudging respect leads to some of his strangest comments (Kenobi was a teacher, if a failed one) and actions (the first time he tries to kill Aphra, he asks her to hold still - as though this would make asphyxiation less painful; what’s especially notable in this instance is that he doesn’t go for the death she fears most). On a related note, he seems to respect opponents who value dedication and sacrifice and (perhaps even in a certain way connected to his Force religion) life, who in effect share his honor code and/or zealotry - most prominently Leia.

There’s a reason he’s more effective than any other villain in the OT, and I think it’s this – he has empathy with his victims. Instead of destroying Leia’s mind, he chooses to understand her - it is Vader, not Tarkin, who pieces together that Leia will only ever reveal the base by going “home”. He understands Luke less well but is still able to lure him to Bespin - once again, I tend to think, because he understands Leia well enough to know how to make her broadcast pain.

This is not exactly a quality, rather a skill, but he is very good at manipulating the arrogance of others, at hiding in plain sight, at subverting expectations. As a slave it seems he learned the value of knowing as much as his master and more and also of hiding how much he knew - and so he is a master at appearing dumber than he is and showing his hand only through clipped sarcasm and/or during the sudden finishing blow. For what it’s worth, this lifelong strategy of never quite being what he seems - of allowing himself to be underestimated - makes it possible for him to get the jump on Palpatine.

Dedication. By his own admission, he’s a slow learner, but if he recognizes the need to learn something my sense is that he becomes obsessively focused on mastering it. This is speculation based on how much of a planner he is in both ANH and ESB. Perhaps he plans as a result of the hard lesson learned from being slower and more ungainly than he once was, but perhaps this tendency also reflects his need for control and absolute mastery of knowledge or a situation.

3 bad qualities: selfishness, which also covers his confusion of possessive and compassionate love and his gigantic, nearly unconquerable ego and his grudge-keeping; stubbornness, since once he convinces himself he is right about something he is never going to be totally unconvinced and since it works into his repressive complexes; MURDER

favourite episode/etc: easily ESB. I’ve talked about this before and perhaps too often so I’ll keep this short: the camera work and lighting is phenomenal (he dominates the camera bewitches it plunges the screen into darkness; he also owns the creepiest scene, the shot exposing his scarred head), plus we get to see him at his worst, at his most ruthless and possessive and malicious and clever.

otp: vader/pain. seriously, though, I have trouble imagining any sort of non-gen relationship with him - trouble imagining him wanting it (black swan theory: the suit and the extent of his burns and his guilt over Padmé and his utter devotion to the Force - he’s very Jedi as a Sith, almost completely unattached except to Palpatine). Also hard for me to imagine anyone wanting or, better: succeeding in getting close enough. Aphra makes for an interesting exception in that regard - she enters his life at a stage when, thanks to Luke, the rules are changing for him; she loves to live dangerously and to reanimate dangerous things, to put them into circulation once more; she seems to see him not as some man with power but as a living relic-weapon/extraordinarily volatile and powerful and scary object, which is arguably precisely how he wants to be seen (as Vader as mask not as that weakling); they have certain shared interests - fetishes - even beyond droids and weapons, if one recalls how he used to crave fast speeders and dangerous stunts; plus she’s smart enough to recognize a ticking time bomb, to not expect a future. But even here, I admit that I can’t imagine him letting anyone that close except to kill them until a post-ROTJ situation

brotp: if one can find a way to convince him not to kill them, Ahsoka and Aphra both make for wonderful foils, not least because both can find ways to unsettle him with their respective forms of honesty, because both know how to find and create the windows through which he can be reached. I have particular love for Ahsoka - Anakin loved her and she loved him, and that’s not something either can just forget, plus she’s got a sharp eye for his bullshit and an equally sharp tongue and can actually defend herself (whereas Aphra would have to escape) if he lashes out. She’s surpassed her teacher in many ways, and even if he can’t admit it, there’s pride to be felt (something of his old self to be loved) and lessons to be learned there.

ot3: if I can make this about gen, then let me say that I especially adore the particular gen combo of vader + leia + character growth that you, dear @chancecraz, have mastered

notp: vader/one of his kids omg

best quote: all of his lines are the best! but if I had to pick just one, it would be: “The Force is with you, young Skywalker. But you are not a Jedi yet” — the sheer malice expressed in the “yet” always gets me

head canon: he’ll never be free of the suit, at least not entirely. There’s an idea I like from old canon, I think it was that he was given an opportunity to upgrade the suit shortly before ANH, but decided against it because it would have involved shutting down his life support and have potentially killed him. In my head, he’ll always have a panel in his chest and tubes in his throat, even if he can ultimately reach a state where he doesn’t need a full or even partial mask. There’s also a psychological aspect to this fantasy of mine — I don’t think he would ever be able to give up some of the advantages the suit offered. Anonymity, the unreadable surface that let him subvert expectations so well (and spared him from having to emote or be seen as a burn victim), etc. For many reasons, I also think it would take quite a bit of work on Luke’s part to make Vader adopt Jedi robes again, to so completely negate the suit and his history by returning to that heroic role. The mental image I have of a post-ROTJ Vader thus tends to cover his face in sun-protective turbans and scarves and sight-enhancing goggles (to look, in other words, much like Rey in her establishing shots) and to adopt a dress similar to what he wore as a boy on Tatooine — a combo that offers even greater anonymity than the suit, that lets him blend into masses, that marks his choice to free himself from slavery but also as one who once was a slave, that keeps him from ever having to look anyone straight in the eye and silently lets him make his point to his children that no, he does not want his scars removed, no, he is never going to be Anakin Skywalker the Jedi the Hero With No Fear who btw was a Weakling and Never Should Have Existed —while still acknowledging that there are ways to be Anakin Skywalker, ways perhaps the Sith and Jedi made him repress, he can now invent or reclaim.

[your-dietician]

Megan Fox celebrates 'putting the B in #LGBTQIA for over two decades'

New Post has been published on https://tattlepress.com/entertainment/megan-fox-celebrates-putting-the-b-in-lgbtqia-for-over-two-decades/

Megan Fox celebrates 'putting the B in #LGBTQIA for over two decades'

Happy Pride Month, she’s, gays and they’s.

It’s the queerest time of the year – yes, the whole month of June – when the LGBTQ community comes together to celebrate being out and proud. Pride started as a protest outside the Stonewall Inn in 1969 in New York, and the community wouldn’t be as outspoken as it is today without the work of Black and Latinx transgender women.

The coronavirus pandemic thwarted traditional Pride parades and other debauchery last year. With the country reopening again, members of the LGBTQ community can more readily gather safely this time around.

But how are LGBTQ celebrities partaking in Pride Month this year, and what does it mean to them? We asked some – and are monitoring many others’ social media accounts throughout June – to tell us their thoughts.

Interesting: Is coming out as a member of the LGBTQ community over? No, but it could be someday.

Megan Fox has been ‘putting the B in #LGBTQIA for over two decades’

Actress Megan Fox celebrated Pride Month with a series of selfies that included a rainbow French manicure.

“Putting the B in #LGBTQIA for over two decades,” Fox, 35, captioned the photos June 26 on Instagram with two rainbow emojis and a Pride hashtag.

She also promoted two charities in the caption: Move On, an organization that refers to itself as “a force for social justice and political progress,” and Into Action, “a movement of designers, illustrators, animators and artists building cultural momentum around civic engagement and the issues affecting our country and world.”

More: Machine Gun Kelly, Megan Fox pack on the PDA at Billboard Music Awards: Their relationship timeline

Former ‘RuPaul’s Drag Race’ star Laganja Estranja comes out as trans

Drag queen and choreographer Laganja Estranja, who appeared in the 2014 season of reality competition show “RuPaul’s Drag Race,” announced she is “so proud to identify as trans” in an Instagram post for Pride Month.

Story continues

“I feel so empowered that I don’t have to hide in the shadows as I make this journey,” she wrote in a June 15 post, thanking “all the trans brothers and sisters that came before me who fought so that my coming out could be joyous!”

Estranja’s given name off-stage is Jay Jackson, which she told Entertainment Weekly she still plans to go by with those close to her.

“I am so proud to identify as TRANS and to be living my truth. Happy PRIDE, you are beautiful as you are.”

Kamala Harris and husband Doug Emhoff march in Pride parade

Vice President Kamala Harris and husband Doug Emhoff wore Pride T-shirts and joined marchers for the Capital Pride Parade on June 12 in Washington, DC.

Harris’ shirt read “Love is love” and Emhoff’s showed a series of text reading “Love first” in a variety of colors.

The vice president stopped and talked to the crowd, according to pool reports.

“We still have so much to do. We celebrate all the accomplishments,” she said. “Finally marriage is the law of the land. We need to make sure that our transgender community are all protected.”

Harris shared a similar message on Instagram the next day where she also recalled the honor of officiating the wedding of Kris Perry and Sandy Steir, whose court case paved the way for marriage equality in California. She noted a need to expand protections for the LGBTQ community in housing, employment and education.

“I want you to know we see you, we hear you and the president and I will not rest until everyone has equal protection under the law,” she said.

Vice President Kamala Harris and husband Doug Emhoff join marchers for the Capital Pride Parade on June 12, 2021 in Washington, DC.

JoJo Siwa celebrates first Pride, 5-month anniversary with girlfriend

JoJo Siwa is celebrating her “first Pride” this month, which also coincides with her and her girlfriend’s five-month anniversary.

“Happy pride month!” Siwa, 18, captioned a June 4 Instagram post with a rainbow emoji. “It’s time to celebrate being who you are and LOVING who YOU wanna LOVE!!❤️”

In the post, Siwa and girlfriend Kylie Prew are shown beaming and embracing while wearing rainbow getups in front of a huge “PRIDE” display. The internet star, who started out on “Dance Moms” in the mid-2010s, came out in January as a member of the LGBTQ community, later sharing she identified as queer and pansexual. For the couple’s one-month anniversary in February, she divulged in a sweet post that she was “the happiest I have ever been.”

“It really has been the best 5 months of my life truly being exactly who I am and finding love has been the best part of it all,” Siwa added in her new post. “I love this human so much. I’m so happy❤️”

‘You’re a shining example’: Elton John praises JoJo Siwa at ‘Can’t Cancel Pride’ event

Miley Cyrus seeks to put a stop to homophobia

Miley Cyrus’s message for Pride was blunt: “STOP homophobia whenever and wherever you see it,” the singer wrote on Instagram alongside photos of herself next to a stop sign. She tagged her Happy Hippie Foundation, a nonprofit dedicated to providing resources to LGBTQ youth, homeless citizens and other vulnerable communities.

The former Disney star spoke about being pansexual and gender-fluid in Variety’s 2016 Power of Women L.A. issue and said she discovered her identity through through the LGBTQ center in L.A.

“I saw one human in particular who didn’t identify as male or female,” she said. “Looking at them, they were both: beautiful and sexy and tough but vulnerable and feminine but masculine. And I related to that person more than I related to anyone in my life. Even though I may seem very different, people may not see me as neutral as I feel. But I feel very neutral.”

Alexandra Shipp says it’s ‘never too late to be you’

“X-Men: Apocalypse” star Alexandra Shipp took to Instagram on June 3 to share “regrets” for not coming out as a member of the LGBTQ community earlier and to encourage fans to be themselves.

“I didn’t come out until I was 28. Though I don’t believe in regrets, this would definitely be #1 for myself. I denied denied denied,” Shipp wrote. “I struggled with not only my sexuality, but my femininity. I was scared it was too late. I was scared I wasn’t going to be able to get work. I was scared no one would ever love me. Scared. Scared. Scared.”

The 29-year-old added that she is now “happy in ways I don’t think my kid self could imagine.”

“It’s never too late to be you. If I don’t work because of a flawed, racist and homophobic system, then it was never the right thing for me … I’m not scared anymore. I have #pride in who I am and what I’m doing on this planet.”

Janelle Monáe encourages LGBTQ community to ‘shine hard’

Janelle Monáe came out as pansexual during a 2018 Rolling Stone interview and in 2021 she is using social media to spread love.

Pansexuality is attraction to all gender identities, or attracted to people regardless of gender, according to GLAAD President and CEO Sarah Kate Ellis.

Saturday the “Tightrope” singer reposted words from a tweet by LGBTQ writer and activist Alexander Leon.

“Queer people don’t grow up as ourselves, we grow up playing a version of ourselves that sacrifices authenticity to minimise (sic) humiliation & prejudice,” Leon wrote. “The massive task of our adult lives is to unpick which parts of ourselves are truly us & which parts we’ve created to protect us.”

She finished the post with a series of emojis including rainbows and spaceships calling herself a “kid for life.”

“For those of us who spent time in the dark and had to build worlds to protect ourselves Shine HARD. I love us,” she wrote.

More: Janelle Monáe comes out as pansexual (and it’s not the same as bisexual)

Former ‘America’s Next Top Model’ contestant Lio Tipton comes out as queer, nonbinary

Lio Tipton who starred in Cycle 11 of “America’s Next Top Model” and played the role of babysitter Jessica in the movie “Crazy, Stupid, Love” reintroduced themself on Instagram Wednesday.

“Hi. My name is Lio. My pronouns are they/them. I am proud to announce I am queer and I identify as non binary,” they wrote.

Tipton’s caption was linked to an illustration featuring a unique robot among other droids depicted to match one of two categories a call to the binary nature of gender.

They finished the post with a rainbow flag and a heart writing: “I hope to give as much love and support back to those who continue to show love and support for the Pride community at large.”

‘High School Musical’ spinoff actor Larry Saperstein comes out as bisexual

Actor Larry Saperstein, who plays Big Red on Disney+ show “High School Musical: The Musical: The Series,” announced he is bisexual Tuesday on social media.

Saperstein, 23, shared in a TikTok video that he “plays a character with a girlfriend on TV,” but “is bi (in real life).” In the current season, his character, a theater tech crew member-turned-performer, is dating fellow theater cast member Ashlyn (Julia Lester).

“is it really that unexpected tho #pride,” Saperstein added of his announcement in the video caption.

Laverne Cox celebrates intersectional Pride

Laverne Cox, who has made waves in Hollywood as a trans woman, posted on Instagram to celebrate Pride with the theory of intersectionality.

The “Orange is the New Black” star listed names of Black feminists who contributed to the theory of intersectionality which is defined by Merriam-Webster as “the complex, cumulative way in which the effects of multiple forms of discrimination combine, overlap, or intersect.”

“My pride is intersectional. I bring all of me into pride month. I believe true liberation must be intersectional,” Cox wrote.

Under a photo of Cox dressed in a golden leotard, she named 11 key figures of intersectionality and called on her fans to name the rest.

“There are so many names. Who have I left out? List them below. Happy Pride Month,” she wrote.

Tan France wants to ‘champion diversity’ for LGBTQ community

“Queer Eye” style expert Tan France who is expecting his first child with husband Rob, opened Pride Month with an Instagram post of him fashionably wrapped in a rainbow flag with a star-like flower adorned on his head.

In the caption France made it a point to approach Pride Month with love and support.

“Let’s celebrate and champion the diversity of our community,” France wrote. “Let’s show compassion to those who don’t feel that they can come out yet, and offer them love and support as they work through it, knowing there is a supportive community, waiting to welcome them with open arms and hearts.”

Busy Philipps praises her child Birdie for Pride Month

The “Girls5Eva” actress posted a selfie of her and 12-year-old child Birdie, who came out as gay last year and uses them/they pronouns, to celebrate Pride Month.

“Today is the start of PRIDE MONTH! I have so much pride for this kid and everything they are and do,” Philipps wrote.

She shares Birdie with her husband, screenwriter Marc Silverstein, and took to Instagram to brag on Birdie’s ability to give back.

“Birdie decided to start gathering the unopened makeup and hygiene items from me and other influencer types(actors, singers, makeup and hair artists) to donate to the @lalgbtcenter for the queer and trans youth that the Center provides a safe space for,” Philipps wrote. “Well. Thanks to many of my friends, Birdie was able to donate HUNDREDS of items to the center.”

Pride Month: Busy Philipps reveals her 12-year-old child Birdie is gay, ‘prefers they/them’ pronouns

In December 2020, Philipps revealed on an episode her podcast “Busy Philipps Is Doing Her Best,” that Birdie was gay and used nonbinary pronouns.

“I want Birdie to be in control of their own narrative and not have to answer to anybody outside of our friends and family if they don’t want to,” Philipps said.

Taylor Swift urges senators to pass the equality act

The “You Need To Calm Down” singer is “proudly” teaming up with GLAAD for its “Summer of Equality” campaign to help get the Equality Act passed.

“Who you love and how you identify shouldn’t put you in danger, leave you vulnerable or hold you back in life,” Swift wrote in a statement posted to Twitter Tuesday. “I proudly join GLAAD in their #summerofequality and add my voice to those who support The Equality Act. Happy Pride Month!”

The Equality Act would amend existing civil rights law to explicitly include sexual orientation and gender identification as protected characteristics. Those protections would extend to employment, housing, loan applications, education and other areas.

Swift took a moment to thank her fellow “courageous activists, advocates and allies for their dedication to fighting against discrimination and hatred.”

She continued: “As always, today I am sending my respect and love to those bravely living out their truth, even when the world we live in still makes that so hard to do.”

It’s ‘so upsetting’: Taylor Swift calls out 2020 census for ‘brutal’ transgender erasure

GLAAD President and CEO Sarah Kate Ellis thanked Swift for her advocacy and said the goal of their “Summer of Equality” campaign is to “get every senator to vote yes.”

The bill passed the U.S. House 224-206 in February, with all Democrats but just three Republicans supporting it. Its fate in the closely divided Senate is uncertain. The House also passed the bill in the last Congress, but it didn’t advance to the Senate.

Niecy Nash: ‘Love should be at the forefront’

Niecy Nash and wife Jessica Betts got married in August – when virtually no one even knew Nash was queer.

“I am proud of who I am,” she says. “I am proud of my relationship. I’m proud of our marriage. I am just proud to be a Black woman who (lives) life on her own terms and does it out loud.”

How’s she digging the newlywed life? “It’s treating me great,” she says. “I’m married to one of the most beautiful souls.” A typical weekend for the pair involves good food, swimming and relaxing in the hot tub, she says.

Surprise! Niecy Nash reveals wedding to singer Jessica Betts and shares photo with fans

Niecy Nash hosts this year’s GLAAD Media Awards.

Nash didn’t know what to expect once she revealed her truth to the world, “but my close friends and family were extremely supportive and so that was the most important part for me,” she says.

She’s been vocal about how she didn’t come out – she “never hid anything” – but rather came into herself.

“I feel like you only really need courage in the face of fear,” she says. “And I don’t know if I was afraid in as much as I was just cautious, because I did not know how we were going to be received in the world.”

Plans for her first Pride Month aren’t set in stone yet, but she encourages people to lead with love.

“The world needs so much love right now because we’ve come through a really tough year and there’s so many things happening in the world that bring stress and chaos,” she says. “Love should be at the forefront of any conversation that anybody is having.”

In case you missed: Niecy Nash says marrying Jessica Betts wasn’t a ‘coming out,’ but a ‘going into myself’

Candis Cayne reflects on first Pride, need to band together for trans community

Actress Candis Cayne acknowledged that Pride has changed over the years – especially since she came out (Cayne came out twice, but as transgender in 1995).

“When I first came out, Pride Month was about fighting for our rights. It was about marching, it was about telling the world that we were OK with who we were, and we were valued people in the community. And luckily, more and more, it’s been accepted,” she says. That said, there’s still a ways to go.

Her first Pride was in New York City, where she saw a sea of people on Fifth Avenue.

“I remember just vividly thinking, ‘There’s more of us out there than I thought,’ ” she says. She’s done New York Pride for about 20 years, including performing on floats, and she recalled dressing as Wonder Woman and jumping off a truck and pretending to push it forward and backward – a magical, quintessential Pride moment.

‘I get goosebumps’: Laverne Cox on Netflix transgender history doc, landmark Supreme Court decision

She doesn’t have plans just yet for Pride – she is vaccinated and encourages others to do the same – but “might just have a get together and celebrate Pride in a more intimate way this year.”

She encourages the LGBTQ community to come together and support the transgender community amid ongoing legal battles and violence.

“Seeing how our community’s being affected right now, with all the legislation, how trans women of color are being murdered at an alarming rate, I think that’s something that we really need to focus on as a community and band together,” she says.

‘From Disclosure’ to ‘Pose’: What movies, shows to watch on Trans Day of Visibility

‘Grey’s Anatomy’ actor Jake Borelli talks growing in his queerness

“Grey’s Anatomy” star Jake Borelli viewed Pride Month as a celebration when he was younger. But after publicly coming out in 2018 and spending more time in queer spaces with a variety of queer people, he had time to reflect on what Pride is really about.

“As I’ve grown in my queerness, and my relationship to my own queerness, I know wholeheartedly that it’s a riot, and it is a protest,” the actor, who plays Dr. Levi Schmitt, says. “At this point in my queerness, I feel like I can’t allow myself to stand anymore for the negative way society has made me feel about my queerness and Pride and Pride Month, and Pride gatherings.”

The absence of physical queer spaces during the pandemic forced him to think even deeper.

Did you see? How Lil Nas X, JoJo Siwa and Zaya Wade are teaching kids to be more inclusive

“That caused me to start thinking a lot more introspectively about what it means to be queer and what growing up as a gay person surrounded by straight people really actually did to my psyche in the long term, and I’ve found myself having to re-parent myself right now as as a queer man, re-parenting my younger queer self,” he says.

He’s been to a host of different Pride celebrations in his life, from Los Angeles and New York to his hometown of Columbus, Ohio.

“It was such an incredible experience to go back to my hometown where I was fully closeted, and didn’t feel like I could be my full self and to see that there was an entire group of people who were pushing forward in Columbus for the queer community and had been forever,” he says.

His advice for queer people going on similar journeys as himself?

“Be patient with yourself and everyone who’s around you,” he says with a laugh. “I have to remind myself that every day.”

Leyna Bloom talks Pride Month, how she celebrates ‘every single day’

“Port Authority” star Leyna Bloom recently opened up to USA TODAY in a Q&A about how she celebrates Pride Month daily.

Leyna Bloom stars as Wye in the drama “Port Authority.”

“Pride is not just this time when we can explore things that are in us that we’re raised to suppress and now we’re taught to express it in the sun and in the streets and the world just for one month,” Bloom says. “It’s something that I have to do every single day of my life. I have to wake up and be proud that I’m alive and (ask) ‘Why am I here? And what am I doing here, and am I going to be able to help people?’

“Through all the most traumatic experiences in my life and in the world, seeds are being planted everywhere I go. And this summer 2021, everything is blooming at the same time: Sports Illustrated, movies, TV shows. It is really a moment to be Black, be queer, be trans, be Asian, so I’m just honestly going to celebrate every single day that I’m allowed to be alive to have those moments. So I’m really excited to see what else I can do and how we can elevate our community to unite.”

Contributing: Anika Reed and Cydney Henderson, USA TODAY; The Associated Press

For more on that interview: ‘Port Authority’ star Leyna Bloom on trans love story, how she celebrates Pride Month daily

‘We’re not there yet’: LGBTQ representation dips on broadcast TV, GLAAD study reveals

This article originally appeared on USA TODAY: Pride 2021: Megan Fox, JoJo Siwa, more stars celebrate month

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[rishi-maze]

I’m going on hiatus

It has been two months since The Last Jedi came out and I still feel no desire to post anything related to SW. I hate to say this, but the movie drained my passion for the series.

Just to be clear, I have been a Rey Nobody fan since day one. The Force Awakens and Rogue One relighted my love for the franchising. For two years I couldn’t stop talking about Star Wars. I red the new novels, comics, visual dictionaries. I listened and red b-t-s, interviews, analysis, podcasts. I bought the merchandising and played the card game. Star Wars seemed to be in good hands and Disney proved to be in control of its investment.

Then TLJ came and I was left speechless by the lack of cohesion with the previous canon. What happened? Why did LucasArts allow Rian Johnson so much freedom to the point of writing a script that contradict previous established characterizations, goals, timelines and world-building? What was even the point to have a Story Group? LucasArts and whoever worked with them gave all the same POV on the making of the movies. Rian, by contrast, keep giving an opposite version. What the fuck is happening? Who is lying?

The joy of commenting, reblogging, following secondary projects, enjoying the bts, etc...is to get a better idea of what is happening in the movies and who the characters are. Now I can’t post or read anything without thinking: “what is even the point anymore? They may change things randomly anyway”. I was left with no desire to analyse and research. What is even worse is that I was left with no desire to see Episode IX.

I felt let down as a fan. I felt played.

As I also felt played by the script of TLJ.

There are some very beautiful and cool scenes, but overall it is didactic, overcrowded, rushed and at times stupid. I have already explained some issues in this post. It feels more like a draft than a final script. I couldn’t immerse myself in the story, because I kept seeing in front of me a list of plot-points that were progressively checked to get the to nth “cool moment”. With the exception of Kylo, who has the best arc, the characters are there just to let the story goes where Rian wants. Mark Hamill expressed the same issue: “[...] Rian needed me to be a certain way to make the ending effective. That’s the crux of my problem: Luke would never say that. [...] He’s not my Luke Skywalker, but I had to do what Rian wanted me to do because it serves the story well”.

The characters in this movie are not the same characters I liked so much in TFA, despite it been set right after it. Where is Rey? How could she behave like that? Why does she looks like that? but most importantly, why she is not the protagonist anymore? TLJ!Rey? I do not know her. I am too disappointed to even write down anything more.

Poe’s and Finn’s arcs were a mess as well.

I got the feeling that Rian doesn’t really care about Finn when he said that weird “joke” during Star Wars Celebration, but now it is obvious. Finn is a secondary character. He seems in the story only because he “has to be” in the story, but beside providing an useful intel about the FO, he spends the movie passively tagging along. Yeah, he has a “character moment” (the face-off with Phasma), but it is so short that is ridiculous and lacks any pathos, unlike the fight he had against FN-2199 in TFA. I get Finn needs to have a reason to stay with the Resistance, but he could had had an arc that does not treat him as someone who needs others to didactically explain things to him as he were a kid. One thing that really bothers me is that, while TFA makes the audience laugh with Finn or at what he is going through, TLJ makes the audience laugh AT him. I especially despise how his injuries are only there to serve as a comic relief. I have already said how disappointed I was of Rose’s out-of-the-blue kiss, but re-watching TLJ, even her’s final words (”That's how we're going to win. Not fighting what we hate, but saving what we love”) sounds off. At the very beginning of the movie Finn was doing exactly that: not fighting what he hates (the FO), but saving the one he loves (Rey) by bringing the beacon away from a doomed fleet. Even more striking was the lack of interest from Rian to make Finn react to the  the slave children in Canto Bright, despite the fact that Finn is an ex-slave child himself...but...like...who cares?

Poe. Poe was...I don’t know where to begin and I will offer links to others people’s posts to keep it short [ x x x x x x ]. The Poe of the previous canon didn’t need to learn “his lesson”. The Star Wars universe didn’t need sexism (one of the great thing about Star Wars was that its galaxy didn’t have a sexism problem)(or, if we want to split hairs, it was an issue relegated to “retrograde” Outer Rim worlds). As the granddaughter of a military commander and a partisan who fought against real fascists, I felt played by the Holdo/Poe plot. It is stupid and forced just for the sake of create a conflict. Based on real life war stories I have heard since childhood, Poe’s mutiny is comprehensible, not the total misstep Rian portraits it to be. Also, regarding Holdo, she didn’t need to die, not when the Resistance has droids. Set coordinates and press a lever is a simple task, there is no real reason for Holdo to do it herself. I hated to see her killed off right after her role (prompt up the male lead) was completed, especially considering how rare queer older female character in a leading role are. It was similar to what happened to Rose: she deliver her last “lesson” to her male character and then she is out of the picture. WTF? As a woman I felt mocked by Rian’s reason for Poe to despise Holdo. It is so stupid. What does “real feminine energy” even mean? What fuck up idea does he have about gender? Moreover, when I red that Rian wanted Holdo to wear an unpractical, out-of-place, floor length dress, without any belts or pockets, just to make her look “feminine”, I couldn’t not think of the times I and my girlfriends have been forced to dress and behave “feminine” just to be taken seriously or keep a job. Our personalities, tastes, comfort, health, they were all dismissed, because what was more important was to appear feminine. Like...fuck it! I didn’t need Holdo to wear an uniform (especially when in Star Wars uniforms are not mandatory for military leaders), but I would had wanted, at least, something that makes sense on a military starship under attack: a practical outfit with space to keep a com-link and a blaster. Instead I get the usual “gender over logic” rhetoric when it comes to female outfits.  ----------------------------

Hiring David Benioff and D.B. Weiss was the last straw. I lost any trust in LucasArts and any upcoming projects. Maybe Ep. IX will make me come back, who knows? but until then, I am out.

[phosphorescent-naidheachd]

OK, so I’ve finally finished reading Star Wars: From a Certain Point of View. I’d definitely recommend buying it or borrowing it from your library!

Lots of fun points of view and some great expansions of side characters who haven’t gotten much attention in the EU. Also, some great (read: heartbreaking) Obi-Wan stuff. (Look, those of you who follow me know where my priorities lie lol.)

That said, there were definitely stories that I found boring, stories where I thought the concept was interesting but the execution lacking, and stories that made me cringe in spots. 

For instance, take this cringe-worthy line from Charles Soule’s The Angle: “You ask me, Alderaan had it coming,” Lando Calrissian said. “Playing it all high and mighty as long as they did.” Because, y’know, that’s just what we need after having finally gotten rid of that terrible old EU characterization of him as a total slimebag. Hint, writers: a character can be a gambler and a scoundrel who is out for themselves while still not blaming the victims of a genocide for their own fate. Amazing, I know. *grumbles* And if the character saying this line wasn’t one who’s gotten all sorts of racist treatment from the fandom and in the EU, I probably wouldn’t care so much. Characters---whether they be heroes, villains, or something in between---are allowed to do things I find morally questionable or reprehensible. But when the character in question is one who’s already received so much flak for making a morally grey decision in a no-win situation, it really rubs me the wrong way to have the author put these words in his mouth, without so much as mitigating them with a stray regretful thought.

Similarly, while I loved most of John Jackson Miller’s Rites, I don’t know how I feel about a few of its last few lines: A’Yark only knew what the Tuskens would do. They would raid. [...] Not because they coveted anything there, or hated Ben, or sought revenge—but because that was what they were. Indeed, that was all they were. It’s one thing to say that the Tuskens raid because that’s who they are and what they do, but it rubs me the wrong way to say that that’s all there is to them, y’know? *shrugs* YMMV.

I ran into a similar issue with the other Tusken POV story in the anthology, Sabaa Tahir’s Reirin. Once again, I loved 99% of it, but... it kind of irked me that the author repeated the same gender dynamic among the Tuskens that we constantly see in scifi/fantasy, and just about always see in SFF societies that are coded as “exotic”: Raider women did not fight, and Raider women were not meant for more, and so Reirin’s daydreams would continue to be just that. I’m not saying that Tusken society needs to be Utopian---if anything, that would then fall under the whole Noble Savage trope---but I really wish Tahir had given the Tuskens a different gender dynamic. I mean, we know almost nothing about the Tuskens canonically, and thanks to their wrappings and masks, they could be any race or gender underneath. Why waste that kind of opportunity just to give us more of the same old, same old? But maybe that’s just personal bitterness talking.

Also: while I enjoyed Rae Carson’s The Red One well enough, I spent almost the entire story thinking that it was totally a slightly more realistic retelling of Skippy the Force Sensitive Droid. And that... made it very hard for me to keep my mind in the story lol.

And while I enjoyed Gary D. Schmidt’s There Is Another, I got the impression that there are certain aspects of Yoda’s character that Schmidt just doesn’t get... or at least chooses to ignore in order to make him more straightforwardly likable. That said, I cackled at the idea that Yoda had had his heart set on training Leia, and I loved his banter with Ghost Obi-Wan. 

Last but far from least, while I adored Claudia Gray’s Master and Apprentice---it’s one of my absolute favorites in the collection---and enjoyed Cavan Scott’s Time of Death, they’re both guilty of removing some of Obi-Wan’s complexity in favor of making him more likable. And I get it, I do---like Yoda, he’s a hard character to write fairly, which means that writers almost always go too far in one direction or the other---but... *shrugs*

My personal favorite stories were Claudia Gray’s Master and Apprentice (Ghost Qui-Gon POV), Mallory Ortberg’s An Incident Report (Imperial OC POV), Madeleine Roux’s Eclipse (Breha Organa POV), Jason Fry’s Duty Roster (Rebel Pilot OC POV), Chuck Wendig’s We Don’t Serve Their Kind Here (Cantina Barkeeper POV), Daniel José Older’s Born in the Storm (Stormtrooper OC POV), and John Jackson Miller’s Rites (Tusken OC POV). 

Slightly lower on my preference list but still highly enjoyable were Cavan Scott’s Time of Death (Obi-Wan POV), E.K. Johnston & Ashley Eckstein’s By Whatever Sun (Miara Larte POV), Sabaa Tahir’s Reirin (Tusken OC POV), Griffin McElroy’s Stories in the Sand (Jawa OC POV), Delilah S. Dawson’s The Secret of Long Snoot (Bounty Hunter Alien POV), Beth Revis’ Fully Operational (General Tagge POV), and Ken Liu’s The Sith of Datawork (Imperial OC POV).

So yeah, I’d recommend it for sure. I didn’t critique most of the stories in the collection for the sake of time/length (and those that I did critique, I did suuuuper briefly) but if you have any questions about the book as a whole or any of the individual short stories, feel free to ask!