#and fighting people is not something stars do

[cleolinda]

Kamala Harris’ concession speech, in which she stresses the importance of conceding peacefully in this specific moment, while continuing to fight as a way of living. All the posts today about how to carry on? It’s those as a speech, delivered with a smile of greater strength than I sure have. Starts at 24:30 for some ungodly reason.

And America, we will never give up the fight for our democracy, for the rule of law, for equal justice, and for the sacred idea that every one of us, no matter who we are or where we start out, has certain fundamental rights and freedoms that must be respected and upheld. And we will continue to wage this fight in the voting booth, in the courts and in the public square. And we will also wage it in quieter ways, in how we live our lives, by treating one another with kindness and respect, by looking in the face of a stranger and seeing a neighbor, by always using our strength to lift people up, to fight for the dignity that all people deserve.

[…]

Sometimes the fight takes a while. That doesn’t mean we won’t win. That doesn’t mean we won’t win. The important thing is don’t ever give up, don’t ever give up, don’t ever stop trying to make the world a better place. You have power. You have power and don’t you ever listen when anyone tells you something is impossible because it has never been done before. You have the capacity to do extraordinary good in the world.

[…]

Do not despair. This is not a time to throw up our hands. This is a time to roll up our sleeves. This is a time to organize, to mobilize and to stay engaged for the sake of freedom and justice and the future that we all know we can build together.

[…]

The adage is only when it is dark enough can you see the stars. I know many people feel like we are entering a dark time, but for the benefit of us all, I hope that is not the case. But here’s the thing, America, if it is, let us fill the sky with the light of a brilliant, brilliant billion of stars. The light, the light of optimism, of faith, of truth and service.

This speech didn’t heal me or fix anything, but it made me feel like I could get out of bed.

[aliyahwritings]

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (06)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 5.3k

Aliyah's Notes: after the calamity of ch5 i present u ch6.... enjoy it. or not. AND IM SORRY FOR THE ENDING 🔥😩😅😨

It's been days. Or weeks? You didn’t even know anymore. The calendar on my phone kept reminding me, but you stopped counting. Maybe if you ignored the world long enough, it’ll forget you existed. Maybe if you stayed in this apartment, you could disappear into these four walls like you were never here in the first place.

Numbers. You used to count them, obsess over them, keep track of every passing hour. But now, time feels... irrelevant. What’s the point of knowing how long you’ve been sinking when no one’s coming to pull you out?

The silence feels... safe. No one to judge you. No one to see the mess you’ve become. It’s funny, though—people always see what they want to see. The headlines called you a goddess, an untouchable force of beauty and success. But what would they say if they knew the truth? That the girl in their glossy magazines could barely stand to look at herself anymore.

You hated this. The lying, the pretending. Nina thought you were just going through a rough patch, but she didn’t know how deep the cracks went. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You weren’t supposed to be this anymore—broken, fragile, teetering on the edge again. You swore you’d never come back to this place. But it’s funny how easy it is to fall back into old habits, how fast the darkness creeps in when no one’s watching.

No one’s watching.

Maybe that’s for the best. Let them keep seeing the version of you they wanted to see—the confident supermodel, the girl who had it all. Let them believe the lie, because the truth? The truth was ugly. The truth was you’ve been staring at your phone for days, hoping—no, needing—for a message, for something from him.

But nothing.

He was in Missouri. Working, you guessed. You didn’t even know when he was coming back. He didn’t say. 

You hated him for that. But you hated yourself more for caring. For letting him in, even when you knew better. For thinking, for just one second, that maybe—just maybe—there was something real between you, beneath all the lies you told the world.

But none of it was real. Not the dating, not the smiles, not the person they thought you were. You were a fraud. A perfect, golden fraud wrapped up in designer clothes and empty promises. And the worst part was, you were too tired to fight it anymore. Maybe this was who you were now. A girl who hid in her apartment, waiting for the world to forget she existed.

Or maybe it already happened.

The sound of the door creaking open started you, pulling you out of the spiral you’ve been sinking into. You didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. No one else had the key to your apartment beside her.

“Are you kidding me, Y/N?” Nina’s voice cut through the heavy silence like a knife. “This is the third time this week. How long do you think you can keep doing this?”

You didn’t respond.

Nina stromed in, slamming the door behind her, and you heard her heels clacking on the floor as she made her way to the living room. “You’re not answering your phone. You’re not responding to emails. You missed three shoots! People are asking questions, Y/N. What do you think I’m supposed to tell them?”

You stayed silent, curling deeper into the couch. Maybe if you didn’t look at her, she’ll go away. Maybe she’ll finally get the hint that you didn’t want to be saved.

But Nina wasn’t the type to back off. “No,” she snapped. “You don’t get to ignore me, not today. You need to get up. You need to fix this, Y/N. You think you can just hide away forever? Is that the plan? Because let me tell you, honey, the world won’t wait for you to get your shit together.”

She stood in front of you now, hands on her hips, glaring down at you like a disappointed mother. Her usually immaculate hair was slightly disheveled, and you could tell by the tension in her jaw that she’s been worrying. 

“Talk to me, honey,” she said, her voice lower now. “This isn’t you. You don’t just disappear like this. What happened? Is it Rafe? Is it work? Are you back to…” her voice trailed off, but the question hanged in the air, heavy and unspoken. 

You couldn’t look at her. The shame curled in your chest, making in hard to breathe. She didn’t know. She didn’t know how badly you’ve relapsed, how badly everything felt like it was slipping out of control again. And you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Not to her. Not to anyone.

“When’s the last time you even showered? Eaten something decent? Your career’s on the line. Everything we’ve worked for is on the line. You can’t just… give up like this.”

Her words hit like slaps, each one stinging, but you still didn’t move. You couldn’t.

Nina huffed, pacing now, her frustration spilling over. “I don’t know what happened between you and Rafe, and honestly, I don’t care. But whatever it is, you don’t get to throw your life away because of it. You’re stronger than this, Y/N. I know you are. So why the hell are you letting this break you?”

You flinched at the word “break.” Because that’s what it feels like. Like you’re already broken, shattered into a million pieces, and you didn’t even know how to start putting yourself back together.

Nina crouched down in front of you, her voice softening, her eyes searching yours. “Talk to me, honey. Please. Tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.”

For a moment, you almost did. You almost told her everything—the text, the relapse, the endless void you’ve been sinking into. But the words caught in your throat, choking you. What’s the point in talking when nothing will change?

You shook your head, your voice barely a whisper. “I’m fine.”

Nina’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t give me that bullshit. You’re not fine. You’re far from it. You think I haven’t seen you like this before? You’re not fooling anyone, Y/N.”

She stood, her frustration bubbling back to the surface. “You need to snap out of it. Because in five days, you’re getting engaged to Rafe Cameron, whether you like it or not. And a week after that, you’re walking down the aisle. You can’t afford to fall apart now.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing down on you like a lead blanket. The engagement. The wedding. The lies. It all felt so suffocating, so inevitable.

Nina crossed her arms, her voice firm. “So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to get up, you’re going to shower, and you’re going to pull yourself together. Because tomorrow, you’ve got a charity event with Rafe, and you’re going to smile for the cameras and make everyone believe that you’re still that perfect, golden girl they love.”

You wanted to scream at her, tell her you couldn't do it, that you didn't even know how to pretend anymore. But instead, you nodded numbly, sinking deeper into the fog that had settled over your mind.

Nina sighed, her voice softening again as she headed toward the door. "I'll be back tomorrow morning. And I swear, Y/N, if you're still in this state when I get here, I will personally drag you to that charity event."

The door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving you alone with the weight of everything she'd just said.

You hadn’t slept. Not really. Just laid there, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out how you were supposed to pretend like everything was fine when every part of you was falling apart. You could still hear Nina’s voice in your head, telling you to pull yourself together, to be the golden girl everyone expected you to be. 

You dragged yourself out of bed, your body heavy. Your legs felt weak, and your mind feltl worse. Everything was numb, but somehow you still felt the pain. You stumbled into the bathroom, turning the water on without thinking. The cold spray hit your skin like tiny needes, and you stood there for a while, trying to let the string wake you up. But it didn’t work—you were still in that fog.

When you finally stepped out of the shower, you didn’t even bother looking in the mirror. It didn’t matter. You grabbed the first thing you saw—a plain black sweater, loose and oversized, and a pair of jeans that didn’t quite fit right anymore. You didn’t even try with your hair, just pulled it back into a bun. No makeup. What was the point? It wasn’t like anyone cared what you looked like today.

When you got to the office, the tension hit you the moment you walked through the door. Your stomach twisted as you made your way down the hallway, each step heavier than the last. You could feel your pulse in your throat, your chest tightening with every breath. You shouldn’t have cared. You shouldn’t. But as you pushed open the door to the conference room and saw him sitting there—Rafe, looking like he hadn’t been bothered by a single thing—you felt the anger bubbling up, hot and sharp.

It started as a familiar ache that had been building ever since the night he walked out of your apartment without a word. Two weeks. Fourteen days of silence. Fourteen nights spent waiting for a text that never came, hoping for even the smallest explanation, something to make sense of the hollow space he’d left behind.

Day 1. Monday, 2:42 AM

You: “Hey. Are you home? LMK, just to be safe.”

Day 2. Tuesday, 8:18 AM

You: “I’m still so confused about what happened last night, but let’s talk when you have a minute.”

Day 3. Wednesday, 5.32 PM

You: “Look, if you’re mad at me, just say it! I thought we were good, what the hell?”

Day 4. Friday, 11:04 PM

You: “It’s been days and I still don’t understand why you left like this.”

Day 5. Sunday, 3:27 PM

You: “Fuck you. I don't know why I keep texting. I know you’re seeing my texts, even though I’m on delivered. Just tell me if you’re done with this.”

Day 5. Sunday, 10:41 PM

You: “Why am I acting like I’m the one who fucked up? I didn’t do anything wrong. You left me like I was nothing, and your only explanation was a shitty rom-com excuse. I thought we were friends, Rafe.”

Day 5: Sunday, 11:36 PM

You: “I hope you rot in your shit ass apartment, but trust that I will show up to one of your stupid games with a sign that says “Small Dick Ghoster” in big, glittery letters. And I hope Chiara will hug you so hard that she’ll end up strangling you to death. Fuck you, again!”

And there he was, sitting there like none of it had happened, like you were still just strangers playing a game. His posture relaxed, that effortless confidence radiating from him, his gaze fixed on the papers in front of him, completely indifferent.

It infuriated you—the ease with which he moved on, the way he could look so composed, so completely unbothered, as if he hadn’t abandoned you in that moment when you were raw and vulnerable. Like it meant nothing. Like you meant nothing.

Every part of you screamed to confront him, to demand an explanation for the silence, the absence, the complete disregard. You could feel the hurt clawing up from your chest, tangling with the anger that burned hotter with each passing second. He was so close, but somehow, he felt miles away.

So instead, you steeled yourself, locking down the hurt, burying it beneath the anger that simmered just beneath the surface. You wouldn’t let him see the effect he had on you, wouldn’t give him the power to know just how much his absence had shattered you. No—he would get nothing from you. Not a word, not a glance, not a single sign of the turmoil raging inside you.

You walked past him without a word, each step heavy with the weight of the anger you swallowed down. Let him sit there, pretending like nothing was wrong. Let him think he could ignore you, dismiss you, erase you from his life without consequence. Because you would make sure he felt every bit of the coldness he had left you with, every ounce of the hurt he’d carved into you.

Ignoring him was the only power you had left, the only way to keep the anger from spilling over, from breaking you down entirely. And if he thought he could continue on as if the past two weeks hadn’t happened, then he was going to learn just how wrong he was.

Nicolas cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had settled over the room. “Hi, you two—we’ve got a lot to go over, and the timeline is tight. The engagement is in five days, and the wedding is scheduled for a week after that. So we need to finalize the details today—food, decorations, dresses, the guest list…”

You couldn’t focus. The words blurred together a dull hum in the background as you stared down at the table. Rafe said something, his voice casual, but you tuned it out. You didn’t want to hear him.

Sabrina spoke next, her tone brighter, more enthusiastic. “The audience is really enjoying you together, by the way. Ever since your date, and especially after the pictures from Kelce’s party where you two were cuddled up? People are in love with the idea of you and Rafe together. So, good job, guys.”

Your stomach churned at her words. Cuddled up. Like you were some happy couple.

“And tomorrow,” she continued. “You’ll need to make another public appearance together. It’s a charity event for cancer awareness. A perfect opportunity for more good press. The public is expecting you two to show up as the perfect couple—affectionate, in love, all of that.”

In love.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek so hard you tasted blood. This was the part where you were supposed to smile and nod, agree to hold his hand and play the role of the devoted future fiancée. But all you felt was the tension building, the weight of the lie pressing down on you until it was suffocating.

Rafe shifted in his seat, and you could feel his eyes on you, but you still didn’t look at him. Rafe felt an uneasy twist in his stomach. You looked… different. Disheveled, almost. Your sweater hung losely over your shoulders, practically swallowing your frame, and he could see dark shadows under your eyes that hadn’t been there before. You seemed smaller somehow, your usual energy muted, replaced by something tense and fragile.

Rafe’s gaze dropped to your hands, noticing how your fingers fidgeted restlessly, twisting and tugging at your sleeves. Your leg was bouncing under the table, tapping out an anxious rhythm that only he seemed to notice. Every small movement, every nervous habit—you looked like you were holding yourself back, like there was something simmering beneath the surface, ready to break free.

You still hadn’t looked at him, hadn’t given him a single glance, and that bothered him more than he wanted to admit. You’d been messaging him, and he’d been… well, avoiding it, convincing himself it was for the best. But seeing you now, seeing the wear and tear he’d left behind, he couldn’t shake the guilt.

Rafe’s chest tightened. He’d expected you to be angry, maybe annoyed. But this? You looked worn down, frayed at the edges, like you've been carrying a weight no one else could see.

You didn’t remember most of the details they were talking about. Your mind drifted in and out of focus as they went on about the guest list, the food, the decorations. All you heard were words—dresses, flowers, venues. None of it felt real. It was as if you were watching someone else’s life unfold in front of you, just sitting there, an outsider in your own story.

“The wedding will be televised, of course,” Sabrina says, flipping through her notes, her eyes gleaming with the excitement of it all. “And with a full press presence. We want every detail to reflect both of your public personas. Elegant, grand, but also with an intimate, personal feel—something that tells a story about who you both are.”

Who we were. I almost laughed at the irony. I didn't even know who I was right now, much less who we were.

“We were thinking of something grand but elegant. A modern luxury wedding. White roses, lots of gold accents. Maybe something at the estate in the Hamptons?”

You glanced at the board, at all the glossy, pristine images of weddings that could belong to anyone. None of them felt like you.

“Do you have any preferences?” Sabrina asked, smiling like this is the most exciting conversation in the world. “Colors, themes, anything that’s important to you?”

"Actually," you finally broke your silence, your voice coming out quietly, but the words landing heavily in the room. "I’d like the ceremony to reflect... my background." You could feel Rafe's eyes on you again, but for once, you didn’t care. This wasn’t about him.

Sabrina blinked, taken aback, but she quickly nodded, jotting down notes as if she were open to whatever you had in mind. "Of course, that could be beautiful. Were you thinking about specific details?"

You hesitated for a moment, uncertain if they’d take you seriously, but you pressed on. "Yes. The colors… the decorations. I want there to be vibrant colors—not just whites and pastels, but deep greens, maroons, and gold. The way we’d have them back home. And for the flowers… jasmine and roses. That’s what we use for weddings where I’m from. I want it to feel like... like part of my heritage."

Nicolas raised an eyebrow, as if he hadn’t expected you to care about any of this. But he just nodded, his pen moving across his notepad. "We can definitely arrange that. A traditional, multicultural theme would add a unique touch to the event, I think. It’ll definitely resonate with the press and the viewers."

You didn’t care if it resonated. It wasn’t for them—it was for you, a sliver of authenticity in this whole farce.

Then Sabrina’s voice broke into your thoughts. "And of course, the dress. Have you given any thought to what you want? Or would you like us to arrange for a stylist to go over options with you?"

Your heart twisted at the mention of the dress. The one thing you’d always imagined as a girl—the dress you’d wear at your own wedding. Only, you’d never thought it would be for this.

"I’d like to include some of my culture there too," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe... a fusion. Something elegant and modern but with hints of traditional South Asian bridal elements. Like embroidery or... beadwork. Maybe even henna if it wouldn’t look out of place."

Sabrina seemed to light up at the idea. "That would be stunning. We can definitely work with that! I know several designers who specialize in fusing traditional and contemporary styles."

She was still talking, but the air around you felt thicker, as though the room was closing in. You could sense Rafe’s gaze without even looking at him, the weight of his silence pressing into you.

You zoned out again, your mind wandering back to the last wedding you attended. The colors, the music, the way the bride’s lehenga shimmered under the sun as she walked down the aisle. You’d always thought your wedding would be like that—full of life and celebration, surrounded by people who loved you.

Instead, you were planning a wedding for the cameras, for people who didn’t know you.

The sudden, sharp knock on the door cut through the stillness like a jolt of cold water. Your head shot up from the pillow, heart hammering in your chest. For a moment, the world felt like it was still. The quiet of your apartment, the thick fog still clouding your thoughts. You didn’t want to get up. You didn’t want to face the world outside of this bed, this cocoon of emptiness you’d wrapped yourself in for days.

Another knock, this one louder, more demanding.

“Y/N!” Nina’s voice came through the door, sharp and impatient. “You better not still be in bed, because I swear—”

The door swung open before you could even make a sound, Nina storming in, wearing the same determined, unbothered expression she always had when she was on a mission. You tried to bury your face back into the pillow, but she wasn’t having it. Her hand reached down, grabbing the covers and yanking them off with force. You shivered as the cold air hit your skin, the warmth of the blankets yanked away along with any shred of comfort you’d been clinging to.

“Get up.” Nina wasn’t asking. She was commanding. “You’ve got a charity event today, and Rafe is already at the venue. We don’t have time for your pity party.”

You squinted at her, still half-wrapped in your sheets like a burrito, and mumbled from underneath the pillow, “Can’t you just… I don’t know… handle it for me? Go in my place. You’d look great in a gown.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, I’d look amazing, but you and I both know I don’t have that kind of charisma.”

“True,” you admitted, peeking out from under the pillow. 

Nina raised her hands in mock surrender. “Exactly. Now, up. I’m not playing with you today.”

Before you could even protest, she yanked the covers off you with a dramatic flourish, leaving you to shiver in nothing but your oversized T-shirt. It was a miracle you didn’t roll off the bed in the process.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s go.” Nina didn’t wait for you to even get a grip on reality before heading straight for your closet, rummaging through your clothes like she was on a mission. “You’re going to look so good today that Rafe might just start thinking you actually like him.”

You shot her a glare that could’ve frozen water, but she just smirked, tossing a black dress onto the bed like she was some fashion fairy sent to save you from yourself.

“I’m not going,” you said flatly.

“Oh, yes, you are.” Nina threw a matching pair of heels onto the bed with the same casual flick of the wrist she used to dismiss your protests. “Because you will look stunning, and you will show up.”

You sat up slowly, rubbing your face. “What is it with you people? Why does everyone keep trying to drag me out of bed? It’s like I’m the world’s most reluctant celebrity.”

“Because you are.” Nina grinned, holding up your dress like she was presenting the Holy Grail. “But, hey, guess what? You’re really good at it. So stop sulking and get your glam on. You’re the star of the show today.”

You let out a theatrical sigh. “Oh, joy.”

Nina didn’t even flinch. “I’m not asking for a performance. Just put on the damn dress and show up. You can pretend to be miserable, and I’ll pretend I’m not a miracle worker for getting you out of here.”

You hesitated for just a moment, then dragged yourself out of bed with a grunt. “Fine.”

“Oh, by the way, Aisha’s going to be there. She practically begged me to make sure you show.”

Your eyes snapped open. Aisha Patel. Your best friend and, quite honestly, the only person in your life who could drag you out of bed with a single text. She’s been your best friend since you’d arrived in the States. She’d been away for five months—longer than ever before—working on some high-profile project in Switzerland. You hadn’t seen her in ages.

“You’re kidding,” you mumbled, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “Aisha’s coming?”

Nina smiled smugly. “Yep. She’s flown back for the event. Can you imagine the drama if you don’t show up? She’ll never let you live it down.”

You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips. “God, I missed her.”

“Me too,” Nina said, her voice softening for just a second. “But you still have to get up. Like now.”

You looked at the dress Nina had already picked out, a sleek white gown that somehow made you feel both glamorous and like you were about to attend a royal gala. “Fine. I’m up. I’m dressed.”

Nina, who was already rummaging through your closet like a pro, grinned. “You look absolutely beautiful, honey,” she noticed your weight loss but decided to not speak on it, in fear it’ll make you relapse… if only she knew. “Chiara’s also going to be there...”

You froze, the mention of Chiara Romano sending a cold shiver down your spine. You’d told Nina everything about the Chiara encounter—her subtle digs, the way she made you feel like you were just another passing phase in Rafe’s life. She’d made things uncomfortable enough at Kelce’s party, and now you had to face her again?

“What? Fucking why?”

“Her father’s the one running the whole damn event,” she explained. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of her or her family because they’re pretty famous, especially in the entertainment and events world. So, get ready for a day full of small talk, fake smiles, and people who will pry into your private life.”

You sighed. “How perfect is that?”

You stood in front of the mirror, trying to shake off the heavy weight of everything swirling in your head. You glanced at the clock. You were running out of time.

You reached for your hair tie, pulling it through your tangled locks. Your hair had grown longer than you remembered, and you decided to tie it up in a messy, yet elegant bun—one that would allow a few soft, curly strands to escape and frame your face. It was casual but chic—classic you. You let a few strands fall loosely, giving the bun a less formal, more effortless vibe. After a moment of satisfaction, you moved on to the makeup.

A soft, dewy glow covered your skin, nothing too dramatic. You didn’t want to feel caked in layers today, just enough to enhance your features. You applied a touch of blush to your cheeks, just a hint, to keep the look fresh. A thin line of mascara lengthened your lashes, and your signature lip combo was the finishing touch. Simple. Comfortable.

As you turned to check yourself one last time, you heard Nina's voice from the other room.

“Y/N! We need to go now. Rafe's texting me and he’s getting antsy. He’s apparently already at the event!”

You sighed, feeling the familiar rush of anxiety settle into your stomach. The mirror reflected a version of you that was ready for the world, but the world, especially tonight, wasn’t ready for this version of you. But as the pressure of the event built up, you couldn’t deny the uncertainty gnawing at you.

When you made your way into the living room, Nina was pacing, her phone glued to her ear. She shot you a quick, approving glance. “Looking good. Let’s go.”

As you grabbed your clutch, ready to face whatever tonight had in store, the doorbell rang. Your heart skipped a beat. Was it Aisha? Maybe she’d arrived early, wanting to meet up before the event?

But when you opened the door, your breath caught.

Standing in the doorway wasn’t Aisha.

It was Rafe.

He was in a suit—sharp, looking like he belonged in a magazine ad for high-end fashion—but his eyes, dark and intense, held something more than just a desire to impress. He had the look of a man who knew he had messed up.

His words hit you before you could even process them. “You look stunning. I wanted to make sure you’re okay... before all this.” The sincerity in his voice made your heart thump a little faster, and you hated yourself for it.

The words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just stood there, blinking at him. You hadn’t expected him to show up—especially not with that kind of intensity in his eyes.

You exhaled slowly, your arms instinctively crossing over your chest, your posture defensive. The audacity of this guy.

“Really?” You scoffed, trying to mask the vulnerability creeping up your spine with sharp sarcasm. “Now you care?”

Rafe seemed to falter at that, but he quickly recovered, taking a small step closer, but not enough to make you feel cornered. “I’ve always cared, Y/N. You know that.” His voice was quieter this time, and the sincerity in his eyes almost made your resolve crack.

“Do I?” you shot back, stepping out of the doorway and giving him a once-over, your gaze icy. “Because you sure had a funny way of showing it.”

Rafe winced, a flash of guilt flickering in his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tight. “I messed up, okay? I should’ve reached out. I didn’t know what to say, but I should’ve just... shown up.”

You rolled your eyes, the anger simmering beneath your skin rising again. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, not from the sight of him, but from the frustration that had been building over the past two weeks. “You didn’t know what to say? You think showing up fixes two weeks of silence? Just like that?”

He took a step forward, his face tightening, as though he was bracing himself for a confrontation. "I wasn’t sure what to do," he said, his voice lowering. "I thought... maybe you needed space. I thought if I gave you time, it would be better." He ran a hand through his hair, frustration clear in his expression. “I was trying to do the right thing.”

You stared at him for a long moment, the audacity of his words settling like a lump in your throat. “Space?” you asked, your voice low, incredulous. “You thought ghosting me for two weeks would give me space?” 

Rafe’s face twisted in guilt, but it didn’t matter. You weren’t going to let him off the hook.

“Did you at least see my texts?” you demanded, anger rising in your throat.

"Y/N, you’re needed at the car right now!" Nina called, stopping Rafe in his tracks of answering. Before you could walk away, Rafe reached out, his hand closing around your wrist, pulling you back gently.

"Wait," he murmured, his thumb brushing your skin.

You stared up at Rafe, your breath caught in your throat, uncertainty swirling in your chest. The air between you two felt charged, a thousand unspoken questions hanging in the balance. Your pulse was racing, but before you could voice any of them, Nina practically shoved you both into the elevator. Her hand pressed the button for the ground floor as she threw your heels at you, the sharp click of the stilettos punctuating the tension.

You caught them on instinct. The elevator descended, and your mind was still spiraling, trying to piece together what the hell was happening. What the fuck—this distance between you and Rafe? 

But just as the elevator doors opened, the sound of a familiar car door slamming outside caught your attention. A quiet thud, followed by the sound of heels clicking against pavement. Your instincts were on alert, an uneasy feeling crawling under your skin.

And when you turned to look, you saw someone stepping out of the car.

Someone who shouldn’t be here.

“I was wondering when we’d get the chance to catch up.”

chapter seven

[iwanthermidnightz]

Vice President Kamala Harris ending her speech with this hopeful message:

“To the young people who are watching, it is okay to feel sad and disappointed, but please know it’s going to be okay. On the campaign, I would often say, when we fight, we win. But here’s the thing, here’s the thing, sometimes the fight takes a while. That doesn’t mean we won’t win. That doesn’t mean we won’t win.

The important thing is, don’t ever give up. Don’t ever give up. Don’t ever stop trying to make the world a better place. You have power. You have power, and don’t you ever listen when anyone tells you something is impossible because it has never been done before.

You have the capacity to do extraordinary good in the world. And so to everyone who is watching, do not despair. This is not a time to throw up our hands. This is a time to roll up our sleeves.

This is a time to organize, to mobilize and to stay engaged for the sake of freedom and justice and the future that we all know we can build together. Look, many of you know, I started out as a prosecutor, and throughout my career, I saw people at some of the worst times in their lives, people who had suffered great harm and great pain and yet found within themselves, the strength and the courage and the resolve to take the stand, to take a stand, to fight for justice, to fight for themselves, to fight for others. So let their courage be our inspiration. Let their determination be our charge.

And I’ll close with this, there’s an adage and historian once called a law of history, true of every society across the ages, the adage is, only when it is dark enough can you see the stars.

I know many people feel like we are entering a dark time, but for the benefit of us all, I hope that is not the case. But here’s the thing, America, if it is, let us fill the sky with the light of a billion brilliant stars, the light of optimism, of faith, of truth and service.

And may that work guide us, even in the face of setbacks toward the extraordinary promise of the United States of America, I thank you all. May God bless you, and may God bless the United States of America. I thank you all.”

[ponyguru]

Yesterday was a sad day. I didn’t feel like I could post something blithely happy about my ponies without saying something about the election, so I’ve been musing on what to say.

Before 2016, I ran more of a ‘general fandom’ type blog on Tumblr, which skewed more heavily towards politics and activism as the orange demon began to come into the limelight. Surely, we thought, nobody would be stupid enough to vote for a reality TV star with zero credentials and so many crimes surrounding him. The election seemed like a slam dunk, since everyone had working brains.

While I had to watch people I thought I could trust celebrating the downfall of our country’s (and my) future, I realized I couldn’t carry on any kind of activism blog and keep myself alive. I leaned into 100% pony toy blogging, just to try and keep my sanity. Pony blogging became an escape, a safe place that was focused wholly on cute, comforting nostalgia. Worrying about finding the latest pony release was easier than worrying about Prop 8 removing gay marriage rights, or the overturn of Roe v Wade. Even if politics always managed to edge into my life, girls toys at least were a space where women and LGBTQIA (usually) weren’t on the fringes and marginalized.

Which leads me back to today, staring down another brutal four years in a wannabe orange dictatorship. I don’t want to simplify it with “don’t worry, we’ll all make it through again!” because a lot of us didn’t make it. I’m glad that I am in a blue state that’s working to preserve my rights, but so many others don’t have that luxury, and I’m deeply afraid for them, too. I’m scared, and a lot of us are scared, with good reason to be.

Ponies aren’t a cure all, and escapism isn’t a fix. We need to keep fighting, but you can’t fight 24/7. Many of us are already fighting just to exist in a country that doesn’t feel welcoming right now. So I’m going to keep posting about my ponies, who are comforting to me, and do my best to create a space that feels safe for me to return to, when the rest of the world isn’t. If you want to come hide in Ponyland for a little while with me every day, you’re welcome to.

I hope you all stay safe, and find a place or activity that helps you to stay alive, too. Staying alive is doing enough, in a world that wants you dead. Anything else you can do is just gravy.

I will share useful resources when I find them, usually via Insta stories, and I will keep posting ponies. Ponies bring me comfort, and I hope you can find something that comforts you, too. Stay safe, and remember that there is a better future coming. We just have to make it there. 💖

OH and I forgot to mention, I tried to comfort myself by washing some ponies from the recent doll show, hence the photo! They all cleaned up very nicely, even if Yum Yum still has a frizzball tail, LOL!

[grapejuicestyless]

Wishes Do Come True

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: It was just a legend, something out in place to make people believe in something that couldn’t be true. But when fate has its way, JJ learns that sometimes, wishes do come true. CONTAINS SEASON 4 SPOILERS!!!

Ryan shot the gun first. He shot it because Ward was charging at him, his teeth bared and his arms spread wide. How fitting that he would go out as a somewhat decent father, a man who took three bullets and threw himself over a cliff to save his daughter and her Pogue best friends.

JJ remembers the feeling of the earth bending beneath his feet as he practically sprinted over to the edge, looking down past his feet to see where the Kook and the henchman lay. JJ thought it was strange, how someone could be so crumpled up, he knew bones weren’t made to bend that way, so seeing the way his body twisted made him a little sick.

He can hear Sarahs soft cries and echoing hiccups clearly, how Kiara seemed to grab onto herself to steady her breathing. He remembers seeing how tightly John B’s arms were woven around Sarah’s body, as if he were afraid she would jump next, as if her body could save his. There was no saving that, as sick as it was.

But what he really remembers, is the softness of her voice calling out for him, the way her voice shook like it was hard to get out. Only then did the sounds of his friends stop ringing in his ears, and through some champagne party effect, he could focus in on just the quietness of her. Only then did he realize as he tried to wrap his arm around thin air that she wasn’t at the ledge.

A stray bullet, it’s a funny thing. The shots fire, four, the last four bullets the man has, and only three reach the sacrificial lamb. The last one reaches one of the seven targets behind it.

Her hands shook over her upper stomach, gripping her skin just below her ribs. Even with a shaky focus, he could see the tint of read beginning to seep past her once light blue nails, now chipped and digging into the cloth of her shirt.

“JJ, I…I don’t…” She stumbled forward, her eyes flickering from his to some distant thing over his shoulder. She could barely focus her vision. He remembers the weight of her head hitting his shoulder as he caught her, the feeling of an extra warmth seeping into his own clothes, something wet and sticky that shouldn’t be drenching the two of them, but was.

“No, no, no. Come on cupcake, come on.” He gritted his teeth, trying to hold her up, but his need to keep her up was wavering at the look of agony on her face. She laid in his lap, his hand holding hers as they both pressed down on the wound, though, it was no use because they had no way home, and the nearest hospital wasn’t for miles. They had no idea where to even begin to search for one in the middle of all the greenery.

JJ rambled in a panic, a habit he’d always done, but she couldn’t make sense of it anymore. Her hearing was fuzzy and her vision came in and out in waves of darkness. She tried to look at her friends, but her eyes wouldn’t tear themselves away from her best friend’s face.

She had just gotten him, their love was still brand new, discovered on an island they were sure they would never find again. It was barely a month since they had shared a kiss under the stars, one both had been dreaming of for years. They went back and forth for what felt like centuries and now none of it mattered, because JJ was holding his love in his arms as she helplessly spat up blood and tried to focus on the blue of his eyes and not the tears on his face.

“It’s gonna be okay, you just gotta fight, you can fight. You fucking…” JJ broke out into a bitter laugh, one he didn’t mean as his palms messily wiped away the blood that trickled down her jaw. Red smeared everywhere, sticking to every crease in his skin. It burned, and so he kept smiling because his laughter, as disingenuous as it was, brought a weak smile to her face. “You saved my life, when I fell off that boat. You kept me alive, and I’m gonna keep you alive, so don’t give up on me.”

The sight of the tears finally spilling from her pretty eyes would forever haunt JJ, because he knew as her chest caved in against his lap, that the pain was too great to make her stay and suffer through, when they both knew she was as good as dead as soon as the gun was fired.

“It doesn’t hurt so bad anymore.” She had told him weakly, the initial throbbing turning into an intense burning, a mix of the powder and the blood that pooled around her, soaking his skin through his pants.

“N-no, come on baby…baby, cupcake, please.” He pleaded. “I love you, please.”

Her ears seemed to clear at his heavy confession, and a sweet smile, the sweet smile he had fallen for back in the third grade, graced her pretty, tired face one last time.

“I love you JJ.” She promised, blinking back the tears. Somehow, she found the strength to lift his hand from her wound and press her bloodied lips to his sticky palm.

He had to watch the way her eyes fluttered shut, one last choked breath that sounded similar to what Pope would later explain as death rattle breathing, escaped her mouth, and that sweet little smile faded into nothing as she laid dead in her best friends arms.

JJ was never quite the same after that. He still loved his friends, he was still reckless and loud and impulsive, but he seemed to do it all for her.

When they won their money finally, he thought of all the things he would’ve bought for her, all the beaches they could’ve surfed across. When he finally found a place to call home, he placed her pillow on her side of his bed, fluffed it up for her and swore some nights he could feel her head resting on his heavy chest.

He thought of how much she would have loved Poguelandia 2.0. It was bittersweet to see the flag because all he could think of was their first kiss under the white flag that waved proudly above them.

He missed their matching P4L stick and pokes, he hated that he had to look at his forever and know it no longer matched with anyone. He hated that everyone else around him had someone to lean on, a lover to come home to, when he knew he would never be able to love again. But most importantly, he hated how young she was. She was only nineteen.

John B told him it wasn’t about the time we had with those we have lost, but what we make of it, but JJ was too angry to care. He didn’t care, it was easy for John B to say when he had lost a best friend, but JJ had lost so much more.

He wore her charm bracelet on his wrist, even though it was tight and caused a lot of noise. He loved the charms on them because they were old and made of clay and they matched his rings and necklace. She made them when they were ten because they were too young for their tattoos.

He swore to never go after treasure again, he couldn’t risk it, but with the promise of a singular wish, JJ followed along like a duckling to Morocco, blood on his shirt and a new father to betray him.

“You know, they say the crown grants a wish.” Kiara broke the silence between them in the heat one day, looking up at the sky to avoid the awkwardness of eye contact. She didn’t have to ask to know he would wish for her back in a heartbeat, but she did anyway because truthfully she liked the way JJ talked about her. It made her feel like her best friend was still alive.

“Yeah?” JJ scoffed with a smirk. “What would you wish for?” He asked, leaning over the unstable ledge, bricks dusty and the cement breaking apart. It wobbled under his forearms.

“I’m not saying I believe it but…I’d wish to go back in time maybe. I’d try not to rush into everything.” She said calmly, her eyes finding JJ’s.

“What about you?” She asked softly, and JJ hummed.

“The thing about wishes is, they don’t come true if you say them.” Kiara laughed breathily at his words.

“Yeah?” She questioned for confirmation.

“Yeah.” He breathed out. “And I really want this one to come true.”

That phrase, “be careful what you wish for,” was made for people like JJ Maybank.

There’s this old game called “Monkeys Paw” that Y/n and JJ both loved when they were younger. One person would make a wish, and the goal of the game was to make that person regret that wish.

They would stay up for hours laughing about it.

If JJ wished for a pizza, the pizza was poisoned. If Y/n wanted a dog, it was rabid. They’d spend hours at a time waking up the neighbors just laughing at how outrageous they could make the faults.

Now that they were older, and now that Y/n was gone, JJ seemed to forget about the rules of the game.

He stumbled back, all air caught in his throat. He lost the crown, and he’d lost his girl, and now, here his biological father was with a knife twisted deep into his abdomen, pulling it out with a sickening crunch.

Kiara pleaded for him to keep fighting, her hands on the wound in a way that reminded him of the way he desperately pressed against Y/n’s all those weeks ago. Her cries were just as desperate, and they were just as fuzzy.

JJ now felt thankful he let her go peacefully, because living through the pain was insufferable, and he knew it would have been cruel to make her fight it any longer.

He cried a little, but he wasn’t sad. No, he was happy, even as Kiara screamed for Pope and John B, begging for help that would do no good because just like his precious Y/n, there was no way home and no help in sight.

He let out a hiccup, and his eyes focused on her brown ones as his vision cleared for a moment, the sting turning into a familiar burn.

“Kie, I never told you my wish.” He smiled, and she shook her head.

“No, Jayj, come on, you gotta fight it. I can’t lose you too.” She pleaded, and it was like he wasn’t even listening as he kept choking out words.

“I already got what I wished for.” He smiled.

All he ever wanted was a home, and though every sacred place he ever had to call that were short lived and destroyed, he had found it in the people who loved him, and the people he loved.

JJ wished for so much more than anyone thought, and he’d gotten all of it.

He had you at one point, and he was eternally grateful for every hug he ever received from your loving arms. He had Pope and John B, who made him laugh like no one else ever could, his ribs sore and his stomach shaking. Kiara and Sarah kept him grounded. He was grateful for how much they cared, how safe he felt around them. He knew he would miss his best friends more than anything else, he would miss them like family, because thats what they were.

The Pogues were his family, and his family was his home.

JJ wished for one last thing with the crown as the darkness took him. He slipped away from his body, his head lulling to the side as Kiara shook him, but he wasn’t there anymore, and he wasn’t afraid because there she was.

Kneeling beside Kiara and she didn’t even know, there she was, her sweet smile and her pretty eyes. She was holding both Kiara’s hand, and his hand, nothing more than wind to them on the ground, but now JJ could see her, and now he could hold her.

“Y/n? Cupcake?” He breathed out with a smile, the luckiest man in the world, even if his toes didn’t physically touch the dirt or the sand anymore.

“Jay…” She smiled back, a sweet sound falling past her lips, and it was simply half of his name.

As his arms wrapped around her tightly, his nose buried into her shoulder. It felt good to know that he would never have to let her go again, and that someday, his friends would have the same pleasure of holding him again too.

JJ’s wish had been a little greedy, because in addition to what he was already granted, he wished to be with Y/n again.

He guess he never really specified how but hey, wishes really do come true.

[itsnotmourn]

SPOOKY MONTH OC INTERVIEW MEME

this is intended to be "in-character"; you answer as if you are your character OR like a story/narrative! you don't have to though. send a number to the user/reblogger (if they ask for it) for them to answer the question!

you might notice that there are alternative questions under the same number. you can choose one that suits your character OR answer both if it applies!

there are also questions that are for certain characters, so be sure to mention if your character is non-human or cultist, etc.! it is also up to you whether your OC is answering honestly or not! ;]

for any clarification, please see the "read more"!

GENERAL

1. Who are you? Describe yourself in a few words!

2. Where did you come from? Were you born in this town or did you move here, etc.?

3. How’s your family? If they’re still around, what relationship do you have with them?

4. Do you celebrate “Spooky Month”? If you do, what is your costume?

5. What's your favourite type of candy?

6. Who are your friends in this town? (other spooky month oc's can be included!)

7. Are you dating anyone right now? If not, are you interested in a partner later in life?

8. Do you work? If so, what/where do you work as, and is that your dream job? (IF OC IS A CHILD) What do you want to be when you are older?

9. Has two certain kids ever caused you trouble? Or are they friendly to you? I think they call themselves Skid and Pump.

10. Pick 1–3 different characters from this generator. If you know of them, what are your thoughts on them?

11. What is your opinion on the town's current mayor, Narciso Evermore?

12. What is your opinion on the overall police force? Reliable? Reckless?

13. The town is a bit dangerous from time to time. Can you fight? Can you protect yourself? Are you willing to kill?

14. What is your opinion on monsters/the supernatural? (IF OC IS NONHUMAN) What is your opinion on humans?

15. Do you know of (or have seen) the group of people who wear red robes? Any thoughts on them?

16. Have you seen the two big stars in the sky? It’s pretty cool, huh?

IF OC IS A CULTIST:

17. Can you share with us why did you join this group?

18. Since joining this group, what is your view on the towns(people)?

19. How involved are you in this group? Do you do anything, or do you seek recruits or are willing to... work behind the scenes, etc.?

20. How loyal would you say you are to your leader/The Eyes?

- - - - - -

Because this is like an interview, the questions are written rather vaguely with implications, so it's up to you to write as of your OC notices the implications or not.

Here is some explanations to help you answer!

For 10, some monster characters are included because while your character might not KNOW them, they might have SEEN or HEARD of them... heh

For 15, the red robes is referring to the cult/cultists.

For 16, this just depends if your OC just sees it as regular stars, or knows it as The Eyes, or something like that.

For 19, "work behind the scenes" implies if your character would get their hands dirty AKA hurt others for the cult... like Ignacio! Or the group of cultists that targeted Father Gregor!

For 17–20, I say "group "because not all cults consider themselves as cults but rather another church or religious group, and cult members don't recognise they are in a cult either. WE know it's a cult; the characters (unless they are journalists or knows people in it) may not ;]

[inklesspen]

Like many of you, I didn't think this outcome was truly possible. I believed that enough people would pay attention to what's been happening these past several months, and do the right thing. I was wrong.

This is not a story. We will not win by blowing up the Death Star or by dropping the Ring into the fires of Mount Doom. We will not win in one single moment, but through a long twilight struggle.

From now on, every day we wake up is a win. Every time we stand up and say we will not be silenced and we will not ignore the suffering of others; that's a win. Every life we save, every right-wing policy we delay or frustrate or block, these are wins. And these wins will often be small, and they will often be conditional. We will have to keep defending them for the rest of our lives; this is not pleasant to hear, but it is the truth, and we must not shy away from the truth.

Remember the airplane rule: secure your own mask first before helping others, but do help others. We have to stand together. We cannot break ranks if we want to survive. And part of this is to know your own limits; everyone can do something, but nobody can spend their every moment in the fight. Manage yourself so that you can work for a better future without burning yourself up in the process.

The playbook from the first Trump administration is mostly still relevant. Many things will be different but more will be the same as they were. The general patterns by which we resist the authoritarian machine are still valid:

Do not obey in advance. Most of the power of authoritarianism is freely given. In times like these, individuals think ahead about what a more repressive government will want, and then offer themselves without being asked. A citizen who adapts in this way is teaching power what it can do. Make eye contact and small talk. This is not just polite. It is part of being a citizen and a responsible member of society. It is also a way to stay in touch with your surroundings, break down social barriers, and understand whom you should and should not trust. If we enter a culture of denunciation, you will want to know the psychological landscape of your daily life. Practice corporeal politics. Power wants your body softening in your chair and your emotions dissipating on the screen. Get outside. Put your body in unfamiliar places with unfamiliar people. Make new friends and march with them.

Dehumanization and scapegoating are weapons which only ever serve the enemy. Learn how to recognize these weapons when you see them, and speak out whenever they are employed, even if by someone who is supposedly on your side.

There will be people in your communities who have fought these battles before. Learn from their experiences; these lessons were often paid for in blood.

Learn about alternative ways to connect and communicate. Opsec isn't just a meme. Security is a set of tradeoffs; if you keep things secret, you will be safer from the authorities, but it will be harder for like-minded folks to find and join you. There is no one right opsec protocol for all situations. (In particular, Discord is not end-to-end encrypted; you will want to know about and be familiar with messaging platforms which are.)

Hope is hard work, but despair will kill you. Let us therefore resolve to set aside fear for courage. I love you. Take care of yourselves and your communities.

[taeyongdoyoung]

point of view

summary: you sneak into your ex-boyfriend's ship with the desperate hope to save your Jedi friends. but you discover more than you bargained for... pairing: seonghwa x reader x chan genre: space opera, romance (?), science fiction, fantasy warnings: morally grey characters, mentions of past crimes (unspecified but we're talking Anakin Skywalker level of crimes), betrayal, cheating (?), kissing, crying, just overall Star Wars setting with no clear-cut boundaries between good and evil author's note: the events are loosely based on certain scenes in Revenge of the Sith and the title is inspired by Ariana Grande's pov word count: 2.3k

The lightsaber glows brighter as you near your destination. All along, you knew it was a bad idea to infiltrate Darth Mars's ship all by yourself. But you have no choice. If you do not confront him yourself, you are afraid that your Jedi friends will be in danger.

Considering your history with Darth Mars, a small part of you still believes that you hold some kind of power over him. He is the one who taught you everything you know now about being a Jedi. He is the one who taught you how to fight, how to defend yourself and how to look after the ones you care about.

So, when he turned to the Dark Side, it was not only your heart that was broken, but also your trust. In him and in everything he stood for. He was the chosen one, for Force's sake...You have to admit, you miss him more than anything. You miss the man he used to be. You even miss your past self. The one who was not haunted by the consequences of his betrayal. The one who still had hopes for a better future for the Galaxy.

"Very foolish of you to come alone," Darth Mars, or should you say, Seonghwa, says, appearing from the shadows.

Bravely, you point the lightsaber at him.

"I taught you better than that," he scoffs.

"Have you?" you attempt to taunt him, because you know your fighting skills are nowhere near his supreme excellency. You can only use your mind and your tongue as a weapon.

"Did you come here to kill me?" Seonghwa chuckles lightly. "Go ahead, then. I don't intend to fight you, of all people."

"I have no intention of killing you."

"Pity. I was beginning to grow tired of it all. Even so, it wouldn't be in your style to kill me while I was defenseless. It wouldn't be honourable," Seonghwa spits the last word out as if it's dirty.

"What do you know about honour? You betrayed us, turning to the Dark Side. And for what? More power? What did you do that for? You left us, Hwa!"

"That's not my name," Seonghwa shakes his head in denial, still hiding beneath that mask. You feel so sad. You wish you could make him see...See how much he hurt you. See you.

You let go of your lightsaber, pulling his mask off.

Oh. His face is not like you remember. Filled with scars and burns and so much pain, as if reflecting the way he changed. Not just on the inside but on the outside, as well. No, you refuse to believe that. Some part of him is still your Seonghwa, the one you fell in love with. The one, that despite everything, you still love.

"Who did this to you?" you ask softly.

"Who do you think? My Master..."

"No, Chan would never...He loved you," you argue.

Chan is the Jedi who taught Seonghwa everything. Just like how Seonghwa taught you, the relationship between Master and Padawan is so special and sacred. But you cannot imagine that Chan would do something like that to Seonghwa.

"Fine, I did it to myself," Seonghwa shrugs. "We had a fight over our...differences. Things escalated and...well, let's just say a planet filled with lava is not a good place for exchanging blows."

You shake your head, still in desbelief. How could this go so far? How did you let it?

"Don't beat yourself up," Seonghwa grins darkly. "This would have happened with or without you."

"I never looked at Chan that way, you know? Not while I was with you, anyway."

"But you do now," Seonghwa states. Not really blaming you, just stating a fact.

"I do," you admit. "But I never stopped thinking about you."

"Not even after everything I did?" Seonghwa murmurs and is that...regret in his voice? You are unsure if he's still capable of that. Or any feeling for that matter.

"Not even then," you sigh.

"Why did you come here, Y/N?" Seonghwa needs to know.

"I came to beg you not to kill my Jedi friends. Leave Chan and the others alone. I would do anything you want. Just let them be."

"Would you stay with me?" Seonghwa tilts his head and in that moment, it's like you're back to when it all started. Deep down, he's still just a boy, desperate to be loved.

"I said anything, didn't I?" you insist. If this means never seeing your Jedi friends again, so be it. At least, they would be safe...Or that's how you delude yourself.

"Very well, then. I won't touch them provided that you don't go back on your word," Seonghwa promises.

You cannot believe it worked. You cannot believe he still cares about you enough to accept this. You never found out why he turned to the Dark Side. Seonghwa was never one to be blindly tempted by power. No, there must have been something else.

"If you wanted to be with me so badly, why did you betray us, then?" you can't go another second without knowing.

"What's the use in telling you?" Seonghwa replies sadly, turning away from you. No, no, he's shutting himself off again. Just as he was beginning to open up...

You grab his wrist as if possessed, forcing him to face you again.

"Please, tell me. I want to understand you," you plead with him.

"You died. You died in my arms and accepting the Sith way was the only way to bring you back to life. If there was another solution, I wouldn't have done this, I wouldn't have left."

"W-what?" you are shaking, not capable of accepting the truth. "I was d-dead?! How did I not know that? How did nobody know?"

"Chan knew," Seonghwa grunts angrily and puts on his mask again. "He insisted on hiding the truth from you. He was certain that if you found out, you'd follow me to the Dark Side...And he couldn't let that happen. Said you have too much potential as a Jedi."

No, no, this can't be right. Truths and lies become blurred in your head as you struggle to decide what to think. Who to trust? Seonghwa? Chan? Yourself? You cannot tell what is real and what is false anymore.

"You don't believe me," Seonghwa guesses correctly. "That's alright. You can ask Chan yourself," Seonghwa tilts his chin forward, as if pointing to something, someone behind you.

In that moment, a bunch of Stormtroopers lead Chan into the room.

"What should we do with this intruder, Lord Mars?" the Stormtroopers ask.

"Leave him here with my other prisoner. I shall question them myself," Seonghwa replies, appearing disinterested. Oh, so you're a prisoner now? Even though you voluntarily offered to stay with him provided that your Jedi friends are safe. You feel so foolish all of a sudden.

The Stormtroopers accept Seonghwa's orders rightaway, leaving the the three of you alone.

"I'll give you two a moment," Seonghwa shrugs carelessly, locking you in the same room with Chan.

For a brief second, you wonder if he did the wise thing. But then you remember, getting on his ship was easy. Getting out? Sounds like an impossible ordeal.

"Chan, what are you doing here?" you ask furiously.

"What does it look like?" Chan replies. "I'm here to rescue you."

"Yeah, and how is that working out for you?" you hiss bitterly. "Now, we're both stuck here instead of just me."

"Did you seriously think I'd let you face him alone?"

"I told you I can handle myself!" you argue passionately. "You always do this. You don't trust me, do you?"

"It's not you I don't trust, it's him around you," Chan cries out in pain.

"Well, I'm not sure I can trust you anymore," you confess.

Chan shrieks back, as if stricken by your words.

"Is it true that I died? Is it true that you knew I died and you kept it a secret from me?" you want to know.

"Listen, I don't know what lies Seonghwa told you but he would have turned to the Dark Side with or without you."

"Funny, I never mentioned that's the reason he went all Sith. You just confirmed it yourself."

Chan gulps nervously, realizing his own mistake.

"How could you, Chan?" you shake your head in disappointment. "I thought you'd never lie to me."

"I just wanted to protect you."

"Protect me?" your eyes widen in disbelief. "From what exactly? 'Cause it seems to me that Seonghwa was the one protecting me."

"And it was wrong! He committed all these terrible crimes just to bring you back. He turned on all his Jedi friends. He turned on me!"

"So, you're saying you'd rather I stayed dead? Is that it?"

"Don't twist my words," Chan closes his eyes, pained to have this conversation.

"You have done that yourself," you murmur, feeling tired all of a sudden and go to the door, knocking as loudly as you can. "I can't stay in the same room with the other prisoner!"

Expecting the Stormtroopers to show up and move you somewhere else, you are taken aback when Seonghwa...well, he's currently looking more Darth Mars, opens the door himself.

"And here I thought I was doing you two lovebirds a favour," he jokes.

"Get me out of here," you respond angrily.

"You're in no position to be giving me orders, sweetheart," Seonghwa chuckles gently. You want to kill him. Or kiss him. You don't know anymore. Everything is so confusing. It hurts so much...

"Get me out of here, please?" you try again, knowing it will infuriate Chan. Oh, how he wishes it was him you were begging. To run away with him suddenly sounds even more imprudent than staying with a Sith Lord.

"Much better," Seonghwa acquiesces, takes you by the arm and leads you somewhere else.

"You'll regret this," Chan warns.

"You'll regret me more," you whisper.

To your further shock, Seonghwa takes you to his chambers. You are uncertain whether he trusts you that much or he's simply confident enough that you won't be able to try anything funny. To be completely honest with yourself, even if you did try something, you would never be able to defeat Seonghwa by yourself. Then again, examples of Padawans beating their Masters are not unheard of...But you are definitely not ready for such a confrontation. Not yet, anyhow.

Not only did you learn that Seonghwa turned to the Dark Side in order to save your life, but you also just discovered that Chan kept that a secret from you. And if Chan knew, then there was a huge chance other Jedi also found out the truth. Chan was never good at keeping secrets from the Jedi. But he seems to be great at lying to you. Thus, everything you ever believed in is put into question. What is right or wrong? What is true or false? What is good or bad? These notions seem so ridiculous to you now that you have no clue what you intend to do next. You can only hope that Seonghwa's sacrifice wasn't in vain. You can only hope to live long enough to find answers for yourself.

"He told you the truth, didn't he?" Seonghwa makes yet another correct guess.

"I tricked him into it," you smirk, somewhat proud of yourself.

"That's my girl," Seonghwa nudges your shoulder playfully.

"What do I do now?" you burst into tears, burying your head in his chest. "Everything I believed in is in shambles. I don't even know if I wanna be a Jedi anymore."

"That's alright. You can always join me."

"Join the Dark Side?" you eye him suspiciously.

"Dark, Light...isn't it all the same?" Seonghwa tilts his head to the side. You hate it, but he has a point.

"Do I even have a choice? You said I'm your prisoner..."

"There's always a choice," Seonghwa insists. "And maybe I'm your prisoner. Did you ever think about that?"

You take off his mask again. He looks away, as if embarrassed.

"Don't hide from me," you beg, placing a hand on his scarred cheek, making him look at you.

"I know I'm not as pretty I used to be..."

"Well, then it's a good thing I didn't fall for your pretty. I like your ugly, too. Wish you could see yourself from my point of view," you insist and kiss him, trying to convey all the mixed up feelings you're experiencing.

Maybe he saved you. Maybe he destroyed himself in the process. Maybe he has the power to destroy you, too. You don't care. Right or wrong, this is where you belong now.

"What do you want me to do with Chan?" Seonghwa asks after a while.

"Are you seriously saying you'd do whatever I asked of you?" you are still shocked to learn how much power you have over him...He may have full control of the Force, but right now, you have full control of him.

"Within limits," Seonghwa replies vaguely.

"Let him live," you reply cleverly. Despite everything that went down, you still care about Chan. Just as how you care about Seonghwa. Your feelings might be irrational. But they're yours. "He might be useful to you one day. Who knows? He might learn to see things from where we stand."

"We? And where would that be?"

"Like you said, Dark, Light...What difference does it make?" you smile at him.

"Hm. I knew you'd get it," Seonghwa embraces you, thinking you're joining his so-called Dark Side.

But there is no such thing. You're on your own side now. And after being lied to and betrayed to by those you considered your closest people, you realize the most important thing. In this Galaxy, you can only trust yourself.

And one day, just like how Seonghwa became stronger than his Master Chan, you are certain you will become stronger than Seonghwa. They both underestimate your power.

It will be their final mistake.

The End

[cartoon-buffoon]

Okay because I came up with a (in my humble opinion) the FIRE ship name of "Starbuck" which is Monster Frankie X the contestant, I wanna explain why this ship is so good because y'all fr sleeping on it. Unlike Rabbit royale which I've been seeing as portrayed as a toxic yoai situation where neither parties are good for each other, Starbuck is DOOMED yoai and it makes it SOOOO GOOD, now lemme set the scene real quick:

Monster Frankie has been acclimated to being the star of the show. No contestant has ever survived more than a few MINUTES. He's a sadistic killer who fucking GIGGLES when he kills someone, there's nothing the bastard loves more than crushing people and having all the audience watch him do it. A new season starts and the plan changes a bit, he has orders to NOT kill the contestant and this is what bothers him. He's mad, after all this is HIS gameshow, he is Frankie, the star, the one everyone comes to watch kill, and suddenly he's not supposed to do that? I mean, he does ATTEMPT to listen but ultimately he argues with Real Frankie about it because he's pissed, he doesn't want this nobody to survive until Hexa-Havoc, he wants them fucking DEAD! He goes out of his way to kill the contestant yet he's stopped by Real Frankie and this ultimately leads to the final confrontation. When he sees Real Frankie try to help the contestant out he's enraged and grabs him by the springy wrist and effectively tells that smiley bastard to fuck off and he's done, the plan is over, they made it to Hexa Havoc meaning what happens now is FAIR GAME!

And it was a fair game, but THAT'S THE ISSUE! In a fair fight with the platforms disappearing and them giving chase they somehow lose. For the first time in 50-something seasons they actually LOSE, this random nobody comes in and beats them and they get sent into an incinerator. Not only that, but after he comes back to life with his consciousness going into a spare suit they had he finds that same fucker who beat him as a contestant in the NEXT season.

And this is where it starts

Season after season Monster Frankie chases with the contestant running and ultimately beating him each and every time. Obstacles change, renovations are made to the parkour palace, seasons tick by. But never once does Monster Frankie figure out how to beat this masked weirdo who just showed up and asserted themselves as this reoccurring guest. His fame, his fun, EVERYTHING that he had built up as a cruel and relentless killer who the audience bets on to murder is flipped upside down. It's this loss after loss that makes Monster Frankie stop thinking the contestant is some lucky little fuck, he begins to realize what he's losing to is SKILL!

THAT'S WHERE IT BLOOMS! There's this unspoken rivalry that starts between them. Monster Frankie will continue to hunt and the contestant will continue to run, the contestant has this constant thrill of being near death thanks to this giant toothy rabbit and Monster Frankie has this little thorn in his side who continues to best him. He's intrigued, mad, but ultimately he can't help but feel a sort of attraction to this. And maybe it ain't one sided? After all the thrill of getting chased is what keeps the contestant coming back after each season and no one else gives them such a rush expect for Monster Frankie. Even if they don't talk much (at least they don't on camera, what happens off screen is left up to anyone's imagination ╮⁠(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠╭ ) they still fall for each other and find themselves constantly trying to beat the other in this constant hunt.

All good things must come to an end though. As one would guess watching the same person get chased by the same monster may become boring to the audience. You can only change up the obstacles so much before it STILL becomes boring to the watchers. Now's the tragic part: the show has to change. It HAS to, the ratings are starting to drop and then higher ups are demanding things to be shaken up leading both to make a choice. If Monster Frankie and his continuous failures has bored the audience which is gonna force the higher ups to scrap him, they're gonna get rid of him and instead have something else replace him, idk maybe some NEW mascot and he'll be left forgotten and in the incinerator instead of getting a new body. On the other hand the contestant could die, the reigning champ could be dethroned leading to a new champ to possibly rise leading to a new fan favorite the audience can cheer for.

Whatever the case then end is near for the two. One of them is doomed no matter what, one HAS to perish and it's beyond devastating. This rivalry that blossomed into love, what started off as hate that became fondness and possibly even affection is torn away by the same gameshow that brought them both together. It's this tragedy that makes this ship SOOOO FUCKING GOOD! AHHH! I FUCKING LOVE THIS, YOU HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA!

[heelkenny]

Kenny's interview with Tokyo Sports WEB

Kenny Omega Claims Self-Defense, "The Truth" Behind His Crossing the Line with Gabe Kidd in a Big Brawl

　Kenny Omega (41) of AEW in the U.S. has a dislike for Gabe Kidd (27) of New Japan Pro-Wrestling. Kenny, who has been sidelined for a long time with diverticulitis, came to the Osaka event on January 4 and announced his return at "Wrestle Dynasty," a joint event of New Japan and AEW (January 5, next year at Tokyo Dome). However, he and Gabe got into a huge brawl backstage immediately afterward. What was the "truth" behind the incident, which even led to the declaration of their "insulation" from each other?

　Kenny, who has been sidelined with diverticulitis since the end of last year, announced at the Osaka event that he would return to the ring on January 5 at the Dome, responding to a request from President Hiroshi Tanahashi, with whom he had an interview in October, to fight one of New Japan's proud rising stars.

　However, as he was about to return to the waiting room after his comments, an incident broke out. When officials heard an argument in English coming from the aisle, they rushed to the scene to find Kenny and Gabe engaged in a huge brawl. Although the two were separated by the people around them, there was a sense of tension between them as they shouted the F-word at each other.

　What on earth was going on? One night after the Osaka tournament, Kenny gave an interview and explained the circumstances of the disturbance. According to Kenny, on his way to the waiting room, he ran into Gabe and Robbie X of the Bullet Club.

He said, "I got a decent greeting from X, whom I'd never met before. But Gabe said something like, 'Who the hell do you think you are to think you can be in this group whenever you want? It's true that I had mispronounced Gabe's name in an interview before, and that was my fault. But all of a sudden he pushed me and struck a fighting pose. I immediately thought back to that incident at AEW."

　This time, however, he said, "I'm not the vice president of New Japan, and I needed to protect my own safety. I had heard a lot of rumors about Gabe, so I felt it was dangerous. As a result, I made the first move, but that was in self-defense," he said.

[translated with deepl translate]

[hypernova-writes]

Stupid In Love [Sniper x Reader]

Synopsis: Sniper loves you, and is not afraid to show it. He wants to spend the rest of his days with you.

a/n: Song fic one of two that I want to post, The next one is called in the closet~! Can you guess who it is??

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful There's something about your eyes Tell me these feelings are mutual 'Cause feelings are so hard to fight

Sniper didn’t really consider himself to be a romantic man. He’d been a few relationships, whooed a couple of women before. But none of that compared to how he felt whenever he was with you.

Know it's a little soon, maybe But I'd go anywhere you take me 'Long as you're calling me, baby They can all call us crazy

You were a mercenary just like him. Efficient at what you do. He was always wowed when he saw you on the battlefield in your element. You were like a jack of all trades, ready to hop in and help anyone who really and truly needed it. Whether Medic needed a little support. Scout needed someone to help him flank or Engineer needed someone to watch over his machines. You were always there.

So it shocked him when you ended up confessing your feelings to him. Him of all people. He was pretty sure you’d heard all the things the other mercs said about him. How he was cold, how he was disgusting. But once again. You looked past what they all said and took it upon yourself to get to know him. You didn’t stop until you knew just about everything about him (that he would tell you.).

Now you had him dreaming about being a family man.

He would talk about you on the phone to his parents, who were elated that their son had someone in his love life that he could depend on. And they could tell by the way that their son talked about you on the phone that he was head over heels in love.

The other mercs noticed it too.

Whenever they needed Sniper for something and he was nowhere to be found? They went straight to you.

“Hey Y/n? Have ya seen Snipes? We need him today.” “Oh! Yea i have! I’ll go get him :)”

You’re so sweet that this man could probably get a cavity from how you were. You would come padding up to his camper, knocking that special knock before entering.

“Snipey~ Baby! You’re needed for a mission.” You walk over to him and press your lips against his cheek.

It never failed to make him blush, because if he didn’t react or didn’t say anything, you would just puff out your cheeks and pout before attacking him with more kisses until you kissed his lips.

“..’lright..’lright, I hear ya sheila..”

He then tilts your chin up to place a kiss on your lips, watching as you melted into his touch. It was plenty of exchanges that made the two of you late.

It boosted his moods, he would definitely do better in whatever mission or match whenever you gave him that cute encouragement you’d like to do.

He would watch as you went off to do whatever you had to get done, he would have that giddy love sick look on his face and he knew he was absolutely whipped.

Let's get married in Vegas We don't need a guest list I don't wanna think too much Let's get matching tattoos I don't wanna think it through Baby, I'm so stupid in love

The two of you were sitting on top of his campervan, gazing up at the stars. He looked over at you as you were rambling on about something that he just nodded along to.

‘God..she’s a beaut..”

Book a flight to Paris, only one way What'd you think about sharing our last name?

“Mick. You ever think about marriage?”

That question makes him sit up as he tilts his head, he was attentive then.

“Yea..I guess i do.” “Good..Cause I was thinking of it too. How we would have ours.”

He watches as you grin at him before looking back up to the sky. “I’d like to have it under the stars..cause it reminds me of moments like these with you.

Sniper smiles softly as he pulls you over onto his chest, Kissing your forehead he nuzzles against your face.

“Of course..We’ll do whatever ya want sheila..”

Let's get straight to "I do" I don't wanna think it through Baby, I'm so stupid in love

[antianakin]

You are ABSOLUTELY not alone in that sentiment! At the very least you've got me, too! It definitely makes the most sense for the clones to look around as they are learning what it means to even BE a person and tend to lean towards the only person willing to speak to them and guide them and answer their questions (and there isn't a single Mandalorian who would ever do the same). I'm going to put the rest of this under a cut since it's getting long.

I've read plenty of posts about what attachment actually means in Star Wars (I've made a few myself, or at least addressed it in plenty of posts about the Jedi over the years), and I totally agree that the clones do also seem to hold similar values to the Jedi in terms of attachment, even if it comes from a very different (and arguably somewhat less healthy) place. It's not even really that they move on quickly, because part of the reason that seems to happen is more a matter of how the TV show is structured (TCW does not allow for anything to have any long-term impact on any of the characters, major events aren't discussed again once the episode/arc ends). For me, it's more seen in how clear-headed they seem to be about their situation, how aware they are of how much their situation sucks but they also recognize that if they DON'T fight, then they'll still suffer the consequences and helping protect innocent people is still the right thing to do. This is basically exactly what Rex tells Cut during that episode The Deserter. He also says something similar to Ahsoka in season 7 about how complicated the clones' relationship is to the war since they wouldn't exist without it, but none of them LIKE it, either. That recognition that they can't change the universe to suit them but that it doesn't mean they can't do ANYTHING is very Jedi-like to me.

I do think that the clones probably have a very different relationship with death than many other species simply because they'd have been raised to expect that they'd all die young and once the war starts, so many of them DO die that it would likely impact how they approach relationships. They don't seem to steer clear of relationships ENTIRELY (or at least, Cody and Rex don't seem to do so), despite how likely it is that those relationships might not last very long. It clearly does impact them when people they care about die, since Cody and Rex have that conversation in season 7's Bad Batch arc about all the people they've lost and how hard it is to be the one that survives in a war. It DOES impact them to see their own killed, it has a long-term effect on them as the war drags on, but Rex himself has said that his beliefs mean that he can't just walk away from the war, either. The only way his loved ones and his people stop dying is to do everything in his power to END the war. And that, again, is an extremely Jedi-like approach to this kind of situation and to the war itself. It's entirely possible that the Jedi helped them be able to reach this conclusion, that their guidance and openness about their OWN values and philosophies could've helped Rex learn what HIS values are. We do see Anakin helping guide Rex in an emotional moment during the same Bad Batch arc in season 7 of TCW, although I'd be willing to bet that Rex probably benefited more from Obi-Wan's guidance than Anakin's in the early days.

Obviously there is the fact that the clones seem to practice non-attachment in part because they've had no choice in entering this war and they'd likely go insane if they didn't learn how to let go to some degree, so the circumstances that led to the clones doing this isn't ideal, but that doesn't mean that the connection between their values and the Jedi's values isn't there and wouldn't help make that bond even deeper.

With the "found family/adopted family" thing for Mandos, my experience of it in the higher canon seems to indicate that it still follows VERY nuclear family guidelines (one Mando adopts their specific foundling and now they are considered parent and child, much like with Din Djarin and Grogu). This isn't really something the clones can emulate very well. There obviously are different generations of clones, but they aren't the ones choosing to produce more clones, and they likely aren't encouraged to create familial bonds with each other that way. We do also see older clones helping take care of younger ones sometimes (99 obviously has some sort of relationship with the Domino squad, there's a red-uniform clone leading a group of younglings to safety on Kamino once, and an older clone taking care of the group of younglings brought to see Mace and Anakin's ship), but even 99 tends to think of himself as a "brother" to the other clones, no matter how much older he might actually be. He is NOT their father nor do any of them really seem to see him as one.

And this, to me, might also be another way the clones and the JEDI can connect. The Jedi also don't really emulate nuclear family bonds. Jedi appear to be raised in groups when they're very young and are raised by several different adult Jedi. Then at some point when they reach teenagerhood, they presumably get chosen by a Master and become a Padawan. A lot of people see Master/Padawan relationships as very close to parent/child, but as we see with several of our canon Master/Padawan pairs, it's not always quite that clear. Anakin refers to Obi-Wan as "like a father" to him, but Obi-Wan calls Anakin his "brother" later. It's possible the relationship developed from one to the other over time, it's also possible that the two of them simply see their relationship differently. They're only 14 years apart, so it's not QUITE enough of an age difference to be obviously parent/child, but it's much larger than most sibling relationships. And also of course Anakin has already HAD a parent in his life that he still remembers as his parent (and he had the beginnings of a more parental relationship with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan was Qui-Gon's student, which muddies the waters even more). And there's Ahsoka and Anakin who are only 6 years apart or so and thus WAY too close in age to ever really be in a parent/child dynamic and they tend to be written with a more sibling-like relationship in mind (and I believe Ahsoka refers to him as her older brother to Trace in season 7). There's a comic where Obi-Wan is asked if Anakin is his son and Obi-Wan's response is "He's my Padawan," indicating that it is a DIFFERENT relationship to a typical parent/child relationship. It is something wholly unique.

And that's kind-of how I tend to see clone relationships with each other, too. They call each other brothers ("same heart, same blood" as Fives says), but it does seem to encompass something closer to "brothers in arms" than a more literal definition. But of course, they ARE clones and they DO share the same genetics for the most part, and that clearly does impact their relationships with each other, too. Their relationships with each other MIGHT have some familial aspects to them, but they also might end up feeling pretty distant since there are millions of them and they obviously don't all know everybody. Maybe some of them feel closer to other clones than anybody else, maybe some of them try to create more distance so as to better express their individuality. It's never going to fit into your basic nuclear family formulas. Maybe sometimes it gets close, maybe some of those labels can feel appropriate enough, but they'd also be something entirely and wholly unique to them, DIFFERENT from the way anyone else understands those same labels.

I like taking those "artificial" elements to the clones that could be viewed as similar to the Mandos and making them super unimportant to the clones. Specifically the armor, because the Mandos are basically defined by it. I love making headcanons that the clones barely care about their armor. They would never swap armor as a declaration of affection (romantic or otherwise). Their armor isn't SHIT, but it does get damaged and lost, so it seems a little silly to use it that way. They can't get attached to their armor any more than they can get attached to anything else. It's a practical thing to them, not a sentimental one. It also isn't something passed down through hundreds of years and multiple generations of their family the way it is for the Mandalorians. It was likely made new just a few years ago at most and they're likely the first one to ever use it and the chances that anyone would end up using THEIR armor after they died seem pretty minimal. The armor is also representative of the war they all feel such complicated things about and I like thinking that, in a happy fix-it AU, VERY VERY FEW OF THEM would keep it and plenty of them would actually destroy the armor as a symbol of their freedom.

And like with the language, there's never any indication they know it or care about speaking it, but we DO see a couple of them asking Obi-Wan about a TWI'LEK word once. We know they travel a lot and probably do have some level of interaction with locals sometime, so maybe instead of using Mando'a words, they start picking up fun words from other languages around the galaxy. Maybe they end up using a mishmash of different words from different languages and each battalion ends up with their own "dialect" almost depending on the words they learned from their various missions. They obviously are trained enough not to use them in formal situations, but it's something that comes out in their downtime maybe.

I love both the ideas about clone food, either that they have the worst creations known to man that only they could enjoy OR that they intentionally always make the blandest food possible because it's what they're used to and it's almost like comfort food to them.

One of my clone food headcanons was that the clones actually really lean towards FUSION food options. For the Jedi, we know that they obviously have a culture full of different species, but their food options might end up just full of different options of dishes from the cultures in the Order. It's not a FUSION of cultures so much as it is just a lot of variety. But the clones don't have access to all of the ingredients or equipment to manage that, so they have to make do what little they DO get. Much like with the language, I also like to think that they sometimes are able to pick up a few random food items from the places they visit and then try to figure out how to incorporate them into dishes with whatever else they've got. They're likely not trying to replicate an entire dish they've had (if they've even had the opportunity to try a whole dish), but just trying to figure out how to cook maybe one specific fruit they found or seeing if this thing that looks like a nut might make for a good garnish of sorts. And some of them could end up coming out really bad because they don't always know what they're doing, but they slowly start to learn and some of the food they create is actually REALLY GOOD, it's just... not from any one specific culture because they had to combine like flour from Ryloth and some fruit from Rodia and some of their own protein rations to try to create it. It's different, it's not BAD, but it could range from best thing you've ever eaten even though you couldn't explain what it tasted like if your life depended on it... all the way to just being a straight up acquired taste kind of dish.

And that's what clone cuisine ends up being known for because they refuse to be relegated to only one kind of food, they want to try EVERYTHING and see how it works but they have to make do with the ingredients and knowledge that they have. And in happy fix-it AUs, they would just continue to do that even after they DO have access to tons of ingredients and equipment and recipes. They COULD replicate specific dishes if they wanted, and maybe to do that sometimes too, but they also just love experimenting with different ingredients and flavors and seeing what happens.

I've decided that Rex is the one who paints Kanan's eye mask with his bird of prey design.

Kanan's feeling pretty low still just after Malachor, he's still distancing himself from everybody, and Rex decides to go try to talk to him at one point and the first thing he comes up with to say is to point out that his new mask is pretty plain. It's awkward, he regrets it immediately, but then Kanan says that it gets the job done and Rex is abruptly reminded of himself so so long ago back at the beginning of the war.

He sits Kanan down and tells him a story about how, at the beginning of the war, only a few of the clones had paint on their armor, to designate things like rank and battalion in order to make it easier for officers to find them in the middle of a busy battlefield. The paint was practical and it was limited to a very select few. But the Jedi almost immediately started trying to encourage the clones to utilize the paint less sparingly, suggesting that maybe everybody could wear at least a LITTLE paint and use more individualized designs so that it was still easy to tell the commanders and captains apart from the others when needed.

Some of the clones had taken to it with gusto, but others had been more hesitant, and Rex remembers having been one of them. He remembers telling Obi-Wan that there was no real REASON to paint everyone's armor and especially not to come up with personal designs. The armor was practical and it served its purpose with or without the paint and special designs. But the Jedi had insisted on at least TRYING to come up with his own design and if he didn't like it, he could always take it off, so Rex had given in and chosen something to paint on the armor. And, somehow, it felt a little lighter the next time he put it on. It didn't erase the horrors of war or the pain of loss or anything like that, but it helped.

He tells Kanan that the mask right now is just a reminder of the pain of the injury and whatever other feelings he's still got all caught up in the Malachor mission (guilt over what happened with Ezra, grief over Ahsoka's loss). But if he puts his own design on it, it might turn the mask into something other than a constant reminder of something bad. Instead, it's a reminder of who he is, the combination of the person he once was and who he's become. He is more than just his injury or this mission and he can use the mask to declare that if he wants to.

Kanan says he never realized Rex and the other clones had cared so deeply about their armor and Rex says that the armor itself was meaningless. It's better than what's being handed out to stormtroopers, but not but a LOT. It was the design on it that had meant something and, more than that, it was what the design REPRESENTED: having a choice about how you were perceived by others.

Kanan asks why Rex had chosen his particular designs, the bird of prey eyes on his helmet in particular. Rex explains that he chose it because he liked birds and thought it looked cool, but he's kept the helmet for as long as he has because it's come to mean something ELSE now. It's not just a cool-looking design, it's a reminder of a better time in his life. It's a reminder of when he'd been a part of something greater than himself, with the other clones and the Jedi. It's a reminder of a time when he'd had hope that he and his people could one day come out the other side of this war towards a brighter future.

Kanan looks at the mask he'd grabbed from storage somewhere or something just to keep light from hurting his eyes as they recovered and to cover up the injury from other people's stares (even if he couldn't see them staring), then hands it to Rex and asks if Rex minds sharing that symbol because he'd like a reminder of that, too. Rex remembers the 332nd and their helmets that they'd painted to look like their chosen Jedi, almost blindly giving away their individuality in favor of that loyalty that had been stripped from them anyway. And then he looks at Kanan, choosing to make himself look LIKE REX, someone who had shared his face with millions once, because he wants to honor both the connections he'd lost as well as this new connection the two of them have built together now. And Rex says he'd be happy to share.

[erigold13261]

Who understands social norms the best in the NSR cast? Who is the most likely to physically beat up a bigot?

Probably Zuke for the best at understanding social norms. Zuke or Tatiana. Neon and Purl are good at reading people, in the sense that they can usually tell if you are lying or something, but social norms are not something them (or the rest of 1010) are really all that good at picking up.

I can see maybe Mama and DJ being okay with reading social norms, but that is more so of them having years of experience messing up and now have an okay understanding of social norms (they still mess up a lot though).

Everyone else I can see having a pretty hard time picking up social ques/norms.

As for beating up a bigot, quite a few actually! Mayday and Purl are definitely ones that will do so with very little questioning.

As for the rest, when it comes to NSR artists a lot would if in private/not seen by the public, or would have/did before joining NSR. (Purl doesn't give a shit though, they will hurt a bigot, it's only because of the rest of 1010 or Neon handling things that Purl hasn't fully sent someone to the hospital and almost hurt 1010's brand).

Tatiana and Neon were the ones literally beating bigots up when they were growing up (there were a lot of them but that didn't stop these two from fighting, even if it was a losing battle). But now they just have security deal with it (sometimes Neon deals with it himself tho too).

Mama would chase people away from Papa or intimidate the people around her, so she didn't see a lot of bigotry because of her presence (it still happened though and usually she'd let it go if Papa was able to calm her down). After joining NSR her presence alone keeps people away from saying shit anywhere near her.

Yinu probably doesn't even understand when people are being bigots. Like she would see someone saying something racist or hateful and she would be so confused as to why they would say that. She'd call them out on it and literally be like "What is wrong with you? Didn't your parents teach you that was bad? Mine did." It would be more of an embarrassing technique than a fight, but getting called out by a kid for shitty behavior is a pretty good way to get someone to shut up (also Mama would remove them if need be).

DJ was the type of kid/person to not fight back. So he wouldn't have fought people, but he would dream of fighting back. Thankfully as he grew more into his body shape people stopped harassing them. It also helped that they became a successful professor and later artists that they were able to rub it in the face of those who treated them like shit (which they gladly do).

Sayu's Crew would not be fighting. Too scared. However, you better believe Sayu's Club would throw down for each other and the Crew. Aoi, Haru, and Yua are definitely throwing hands. Sayu would also try to fight as well, but if ze's in mer robot form ze would struggle. (You know the Club and Crew put people on blast though whenever a rude comment somehow gets through during a show).

I don't think she would actually do this, but I have a funny image of Eve just slapping someone with three hands in a row (slap slap slap). But Eve was never one to really fight back before. She'd take the harsh words or hits and not fight back. Now though she verbally attacks people who turn out to be bigots. I don't see her getting physical, but that is what security is for.

West is also one who would just verbally attack someone. Though honestly, I can see West doing stupid shit without even realizing it. Especially with how he is in game, he seems a bit sexist, so he does have some learning to do (though I tone that down a lot in my version of him as I like transmasc Zuke and so I see West as being more respectful to women as Zuke would have called out West a lot when Zuke was still presenting as a girl or West would have realized if someone treated Zuke the way he treats women then he'd beat the shit out of them so West treats women better). But anyway, West would diss people more verbally but is not above a physical fight.

Zuke is one to try and talk to someone, but seeing that his words aren't really working he'd be more inclined to walk away than fight. Unless they are really directing hate at people Zuke knows, I kinda see him as a non confrontational guy. He's help May or West in a fight though, as best as he can.

1010 would be more of the type to take any bigotry aimed at them with silence, but the moment it turned to their family or friends they would be down to fight. Either verbally or getting security/Neon involved. Zimelu and Eloni are less physical but will escort someone away if needed. Haym and Rin go with the physical option a bit quicker (getting in between bigot and victim, or escorting them immediately away), and Purl will do anything to protect their friends and family, so almost right away Purl is ready to fight someone (Purl is not afraid to grab and almost break a person's hand if they are saying horrible shit).

Think that's everyone. I guess I could go into Ex-Jay. They'd all fight someone in an instant. Whether they were famous or not. Rei and Cyril definitely being the first to throw a punch while Asa and Noa are right there to backup their friends in an instant, no questions asked.

[alongtidesoflight]

so here's my honest thoughts on dragon age: the veilguard, after ~40 hours of playing. i finished the main quest after having finished all companion quests and major faction quests. just to clear up what content i saw, i played as an elven transmasc rook who is a member of the lords of fortune. he romanced lucanis (although after finishing the game i'm now leaning towards taash). i don't know what's happening in playthroughs that have a different race, gender identity, romance or faction going on.

full spoilers ahead, i mean it. don't read further if you want to avoid them. i don't want complaining about it in my asks.

oh and also, if you're worried because of a few negative reviews online i can comfort you by saying don't give a fuck about a certain big name youtuber who is very much tied to bethesda franchises giving this a negative review. i'll explain why.

i'm starting off with the things i liked

the game looks really pretty. i was worried it wouldn't feel like thedas anymore (with them trying to "focus on northern thedas only" i thought they'd make a clear cut in environmental design. they do and they don't. it's complicated. i'll elaborate on it when talking about the negative stuff). anyway it does. minrathous feels like kirkwall. treviso enchanted me like the winter palace did. the hossberg wetlands reminded me of the hinterlands and a couple other inquisition maps. arlathan looked like... arlathan. the crossroads were different, but familiar. overall i like the way it looks and feels. it's thedas, with a twist. it's a good one, and gives everything a solid but unique feel.

combat is top tier. if you're a hardcore dragon age player you WILL miss the tactical aspect of it for a bit, but i promise you, once you're used to the way the combat works, you will be lapping that shit up. and once you get to ability combos you'll mourn the control you used to have over your companions in battle a bit less

the MAIN quest and its story. i expected worse, way worse. and for a while the game even had me tricked (harr harr you'll get it in a second) it is Really That Much Worse. but holy shit was it good. i walked away satisfied ngl.

your choices have SOLID weight. there's consequences, good AND bad. i got minrathous blighted, ruled over by venatori, and the leader of the shadow dragons ultimately died because of my decisions. i made those at the beginning and throughout the game. he died at the end. DAVRIN died because i didn't expect what i was saying to have that much weight. i thought i was in the clear. he had hero status. well turns out, your choices can still get your companions killed even if you do everything right. i fucking love him. he shouldn't have made that sacrifice just because i told him to do everything it takes once.

the inquisitor, morrigan and dorian being there, surprisingly. there's also negatives to this though, see below.

speaking of companions dying and the inquisitor playing a bigger role: the final quest feels like me2's suicide mission. i was blown away by it and the fact that i got to see the results of all my efforts playing out in front of me.

bioware are NOT trying to redeem solas. they love him as a character yes, but i wasn't forced to see any good in him. he betrays you. he fucked my rook over twice. he fucked him over right back, for good this time (the veil wasn't torn down, i anchored it by binding him to it, he's doomed to uphold it). but solas really lives up to his name as the trickster elven god. rip to all the people who grew really attached to him over the years.

varric died. if you like him that's probably as hard reading it as it was watching it. varric died and the game lies about it until the very end. when the realisation hits, it hurts. but in the very best way.

the amount of care they put into gender expression and trans identities this time around. (i'll add onto this with negative points as well too).

rook feels very much ingrained in the world of thedas. he doesn't ask questions that expose the player to lore through dialogue as if he's stepped foot into thedas for the first time. those conversations feel very solid and good. i hope other faction players got as much joy out of this as i did.

and the things i didn't like and boy there's a lot unfortunately

the music. let's just get that out of the way holy shit. it doesn't feel like it belongs in this universe. it gets so incredibly sci-fi-y at times you'd think it's taken straight from mass effect andromeda. there's not a single song unique to veilguard that i really enjoyed. it broke my immersion, real bad. hearing a busker play the tavern songs from inquisition on a lute right after i killed some venatori with wobbly bass songs playing in the background is just odd. weird tonal shift. don't like it. it's made for people who like flashy light-weight cinema.

tevinter nights is required reading. the podcasts are required listening exercises. the game is so fast paced, especially at the start, that there's no time to introduce you to characters and how much weight their names carry in-game. i would not have known who half these people are if i hadn't skimmed over tevinter nights. i'd care even less about them than i already did. there is no time to get properly attached to them. people will act as if you're talking to a legend personified and you'll be thinking man goddamn which chapter of tevinter night were they in again and what did they do???

there's a weird mismatch with the animations. you'll have beautifully fluid ones, like emmrich casting spells. and then you'll have rook's face animating in the most unnatural manner that's sorta reminiscent of mass effect andromeda's "my face is tired" addison, when their emotions SHOULD be landing with the player rn instead.

i'm not vibing with the art style. sometimes it works. most of the time it doesn't. at points i felt like i was watching tangled.

that also brings me to some of the dialogue. same issue. i am watching frozen. i am watching tangled. someone on the writer's team really likes the adorkable trope. bellara is its victim.

for all the talk about identity, bioware sure doesn't like theirs. the grey warden armor got a redesign again and it just makes them look like a generic army. i hate it lol

in general, i don't like the armor design. the wardrobe/appearances system is fine, but it's just not helping if all the armors are just... kinda bland or downight bad looking? and don't get me started on the lords of fortune armor. that is orientalism personified.

the world states should have been carried over, full stop. i know they said they didn't because they want to separate what happens in the north from what happens in the south, which... i could have lived with that. but the inquisitor sends you letters that keep you up to date on... the south of thedas. you learn that there's a blight again, that people are standing strong but it's difficult, denerim's fallen, the rulers are taking care of it, orlais is fighting and they're successful for a while, etc etc. what's good bioware. i thought we don't care about the south this time around. why are you feeding me so much boring generic information. if you're not gonna show any of it and just write letters, then carrying the world state over should not have been an issue. i have a game dev background. those few lines of code would not have broken your budget or pushed your engine's limits. fuck right off.

this gripe of mine carries over to all the cameos. as a lord of fortune you have to deal with isabela a lot. it's fun. i missed her. you get to go drinking with her and taash and bellara! also my hawke romanced her. she's not mentioned once. they had the opportunity to put a sentence or two about her in there with not a lot of effort, trust me.

when varric dies, all she has is a single line about it. for gold, for fortune, for varric. she only says it if you interact with her on your way to the final push. that's not mandatory.

morrigan is there. kieran isn't. the old god soul that mythal and then solas absorbed? who cares at this point, the gods are dead now and solas is locked away for eternity. i suppose? why is morrigan there. she feels unneeded. i wish they'd just left her down south, at least that way i wouldn't have had to witness her god awful redesign.

dorian at least feels as if he belongs in this story. the shadow dragons are a crucial part to protecting minrathous. he's also weirdly underutilised. isabela and morrigan had more lines than him in my playthrough.

on the topic of romance: bro that was underwhelming. no, genuinely. you know when romance picked up a bit? after the point of no return. i heard maybe two lines of companion banter about it before that. maybe i missed something which i honestly doubt, but romance did not play much of a role in lucanis's storyline. i saved his grandmother as he wished me to (and if you read tevinter nights you know she was rather abusive and their relationship not the healthiest) and told him to focus on his family. a reunified family my rook wasn't even introduced to as a partner at the end of all that.

really, do not buy this game if you're only in it for the romances. others might be better, lucanis's basically gave me nothing. except for an outing (the second coffee date i had with him, it was getting repetitive) all of it played out once i committed to the final quest. the sex scene was a fade to black. annoyingly right after davrin died. if you're looking for well paced and good spice, pick up something else. the sweet talk and the final goodbye were nice though.

for all the good the ever-presence of gender identity does, it is brought up in such a disruptive manner too. it doesn't even play out naturally if you CHOOSE the lines that are meant to be said. hearing the words trans and non-binary in this setting doesn't feel right, and i'm saying this as a trans guy. i think it could have been handled more gracefully. the amount of times my rook went "i'm a MAN" as if he's about to start drumming on his chest and roaring any second now got super nerve-grating. "i'm so glad you're into me... the me who is trans. remember?" just. tell me one trans person who'd talk like that to a person they've grown close with and are trying to romance. this game doesn't handle sexuality well, so all this hey my body might not look like the way you're expecting it to look talk amounts to nothing anyway. i feel about this the way i feel about krem: this is partial exposition to trans experiences... packaged up for cis consumption. the ONLY exception to that is interacting with taash. holy shit was all of that heartwarming and bro did it feel good and natural to talk to them about theirs and rook's gender.

rivain and nevarra are new locations added by veilguard. they're also incredibly underwhelming, small and constricted maps. rivain is a coastline with a few ruins. the hall of valor is a partial ruin nestled into a cave on a beach, with a fighting pit. isabela is there in her skimpy outfit commentating your pit fights. that's it. i'm sorry if you were looking for a bustling pirate cove or whatever. you're not gonna get it. the nevarran crypts btw are a long ass dungeon crawl. that's it.

speaking of maps. i thought people were being dramatic when they said you're gonna be fighting the same enemies on them again and again. i thought they were figure of speeching it. they're not. you WILL fight the same amount of enemies. in the same spot. every time you reload the map. best to stay on a map and clear out the enemies and do as much questing on that map as you can before leaving, because you WILL have to do it all over again once you return.

the three choices i made for my inquisitor didn't matter lol she didn't have to face solas and therefore couldn't stop him at any cost as she had sworn (maybe because my rook tricked solas into binding himself to the veil, there was also an option to fight him. would she have stepped in? who knows). blackwall wasn't mentioned. and either her using a small amount of her forces in the final fight was the reason the civilians of minrathous fared so well..... or it just didn't matter. ultimately i think she had very little impact on anything

[redbean-nom]

au that's the opposite of a time travel fixit. angry baby boba ends up in phantom menace and blows up the temple trying to kill windu. revan, malak (alek/squint), and cassus get deposited into the mandalore arc in tcw. jedi dooku and qui gon get launched into the middle of the death star throne room.

[jessicas-pi]

it's actually, genuinely, honestly hilarious that in a fandom where popular ships include characters who are biologically related, characters with a 10+ year age gap who met when one was a teenager or even a child, and characters who have tried to kill each other, people hate on a friends-to-lovers ship with a <2 year age gap where the characters have a deep emotional bond and plenty of romantic subtext, because "they're siblings". my brother in the force they are literally not.