#and hes scared shes mad at him!

[katiefratie]

"Im not trying to care for you as if it's an effort I'm trying to care in a way you need" AUGH WAAA Every conversation with Eaves tonight has had a moment that absolutely kills me I love him so much

[jedi-starbird]

I don't care what the hatman says I firmly believe Ahsoka is not describing Anakin as anything other than the most cringefail jedi ever.

When she finds out Anakin is Darth Vader? The same Vader she's been fighting against for a decade? The same Vader who's crimes she's had a front row seat for in the rebellion? Who killed all the friends and family she grew up with and is now also killing the new friends and family she's managed to scrape together in the ashes of everything she ever knew? Who puppets around the 501st, her and Rex's brothers, the men who trusted him with their lives, as nothing more than mindless murderers? Ohoho she wants him dead sooo bad. She takes 3 business days to process then comes back with full murderous rage unlocked. She's outside his evil lair banging pots and pans together telling him to square the fuck up, Master. Her Cain instinct is fully activated. Move outta the way old man, Ahsoka's going to do what she must and she's actually going to follow through with her words.

Obi-Wan's got the cornerstone on depression, Ahsoka's got rage covered, together they almost form one healthy grief response. (I'm imagining them both living at the same rebel base post O66 and the twins going between them for wildly contrasting takes on their dad lmao)

[all-lee24]

Radahn designs + Headcanons

Lands between's biggest horse girl

[obsessedwithstarwars]

An excerpt from a fic I’m writing:

“DON’T-”

The Red Hood turned toward her so fast, he hissed as he felt a sharp pain in his side. Oh right. He’d been shot. Twice.

“Touch that.” Jazz finished quietly. She strode over to his bedside and sat down, revealing a first aid bag. She waited until he nodded his consent to check his bandages and started to change them.

Shit that hurt. Her touch was light but a bullet wound was still a bullet wound. In an attempt to keep his mind off of what she was doing, he asked about the object.

“What is it?” She looked up. He nodded his head toward the… whatever it was. He could have sworn it had a faint green glow around it now.

“Oh that.” She resumed her work while she spoke. “It’s highly contaminated. One touch and your food will come alive and attack you for days until it wears off.”

Ooookay. Not what he expected to hear. And she was so nonchalant about it.

“Really?!” He asked incredulously.

“No!” She finished wrapping his side with new bandages and moved on to his arm.

“I just don’t want you to touch it.” She said with a mischevious smile, then resumed her work.

He chuckled at that, then winced at the pain.

“Careful. Don’t tear the stitches I put in. I won’t do it again.”

[laurmaus]

all my pdh s2 doodles i need u guys to keep in mind i didnt know All That was gonna happen😭😭😭😭

[dootznbootz]

I'm going feral again with a silly headcanon.

I just had that post on how Odysseus made Puzzles for himself and Penelope and I have another idea and I'm just really excited to share it lksdjf

I basically plan to have this man in love with Penelope within 10 mins (I HAVE A PLAN! It sounds crazy but I think it'll work. Plus these two are reckless and young when married. His first crush and he's not handling it well.)

This is them. Or at the very least Penelope is definitely playing it off very nonchalantly and is kind of messing around at first, thinking that the "trickster" is "not being genuine" when he's never been more genuine in his life. She can see right through all his lies and bullshit and basically forces him to be vulnerable, something he loves yet is TERRIFIED of. Especially as she "unmasked" him so quickly (and tricked HIM.😉 Won't say how. no spoilers yet) and so effortlessly and he's just a MESS. Athena isn't helping and just watches them both fumble around, even when Odysseus is asking for some guidance, Athena just smiles and is all like "I'm the Goddess of Wisdom, not of Love. Figure it out yourself." (PENELOPE IS JUST AS MUCH OF A BLORBO TO HER AS ODYSSEUS IS, YOU COWARDS!)

(Art by isei-silva right here on tumblr! Their post! )

I won't go into huge details. I WILL write this fic someday and I need to leave SOME things a surprise. But KNOW this man will be pulling out all the stops trying to impress her and tries to show all the things he's good at and one will be his "puzzle making".

He'll bring a puzzle to her TRYING to talk all "suave" (he'll be semi-tongue tied. Something that he's not used to and is annoyed that he can't seem to think around her)

It'll probably have a little gift inside and he'll be chatting away about how he worked hard to make it and that there's a trick to it and blah blah blah

Penelope: Oh! There's (some sort of treat or gift) inside!

Odysseus: Wait, you solved it already?

Penelope,🤨: Yes. All you have to do is this.

Odysseus, falling (more like sprinting at this point) further in love but also mad his plan to woo her didn't work: Well... Yeah. That's a gift for you.

He's trying SOOOO hard but he has to stop "showboating" to genuinely impress her. Man has to be fucking vulnerable for her to be impressed by him because she already can read his "tells" on when he's pulling something. No more "tricks". Be yourself, you fucking idiot >:D

[luci-hemwin-evanson]

One of the most iconic Soy Luna scenes if not the very best is the scene where Luna's all nervous about to declare her feelings to Simón only for him to basically cut her off and tell her he's in love w Ámbar

[ty-ty-the-tyler]

In My Closet

A short comic strip for the MAD!AU (This is just a concept! I highly doubt that this will end up being a series, but I'm too hyperfixated to just do nothing)

TWs for gore and suggested child death

Enjoy <3

[idontliketomatoesleavemealone]

oh yeah i do think freya found val. like that’s in my head 23/7

[eikichi-supremacy]

hey so do you think wtv keiko had to deal with growing up with yusuke could be considered a type of parentification

[varpusvaras]

Bail: *reading something for the Senate at his desk*

Fox: *comes slogging in*

Bail: Oh, hello love

Fox, faceplanting onto the couch: Helourhhghhhhdjdhfjgfh

Bail: Rough day at work?

Fox: Uhhhggghhgg, I don't even know where to start. First we get one suspect in and then the Jedi want to come and interrogate her, and then we get the Jedi murdering the suspect on tape, and then of course she is Skywalker's Padawan, and he comes in after Tarkin has been there-

Bail: *reaching for the comlink to ask Padmé if she has heard anything more*

Fox: - and he starts demanding to be let in because 'that's his Padawan' and he doesn't stop when I tell him that Tarkin said no, and then he gets mad and starts to threaten me if I'm not letting him in-

Bail: *eye twitching* what

Fox: - who does the think he is, who does he think I am? I cannot just jump from one order to another, if I did what he told me to then Tarkin would get mad and I would get hurt anyway, and now three of my troopers are dead and my head hurts and I want to slam it to a wall or something-

Bail: No, no, don't do that. I'm going to get you some water and painkillers, do you want a hug?

Fox: UughhhfhhfhhfhhhhHHHHHH yes

Bail: Of course, I'll just send this message

Bail: Padmé, I'll let you know that Anakin is not invited to our Garden Parties anymore until he stops being a Karen and starts respecting people who do unpaid labor. I'll sic Breha on him if he doesn't

Bail: Alright, c'mere

[musubiki]

i think i need to up limes "bully mochi" stat he needs to harass her more

[cranberrymoons]

.

[sugarpopss]

November 30th, 1942

This is very much inspired by that post thats like 'remember how Bucky said he enlisted so Steve wouldn't worry about him'. I just couldn't stop thinking about Bucky getting his draft letter and being so worried about people worrying about him. This draws heavily from the lore developed in the chat with @bucknastysbabe , inculding but not limited to: Rebeccas food thing, George Barnes the WWI vet who died from a medical problem caused by his time in the amry, Steve and Rebecca being close, Ma Barnes being one of the kindest people in the world and a midwestern girlie...etc etc. Sources for the bits of research I did for this fic are here and here.

November 30th, 1942

In 1942, on the Monday after Thanksgiving, Bucky got a letter. He saw it when he got home from the docks, slightly crumpled between Rebecca’s algebra and geography books on the kitchen counter. It had gotten a little damp in the mailing process and was stuck to the front of a letter to his mother, from her own mother back in Iowa. He didn’t think too much of it-he was too exhausted to think much of anything. Unloading crates from ships was far from the worst work in the world, but it sure did zap his energy and fill his sinuses with dust and dirt and smoke. Some of the old timers-guys who claimed to remember striking for a 5 cent raise-liked to joke that pretty soon ‘pretty boy Barnes’ would get to know the sort of back pain that went hand-in-hand with a lifetime of hauling cargo, and that would trump exhaustion every time. 

Bucky always laughed it off. They were just joking around, and he’d take any ache in the world if it meant being able to take care of his family, anyway. Even if his Ma kept bringing up trade schools that weren’t too far or too expensive, and Steve was champing at the bit to join the military, Bucky was fine right where he was. He was just fine in the apartment he grew up in, working hard, flirting with the girls running telegrams in the harbormaster's office, walking Rebecca home from school when he got off in time. He got fantasy novels from the library with Clark Gable knights and Lana Turner princesses on the covers; He boxed on the weekends and was always a good sport; He caught Rebecca in the short hallway connecting their bedrooms every morning and gave her a noogie; He went to the cinema with Steve when they both had a little change in their pockets and flicked popcorn kernels at each other like they were kids. 

All that to say-Bucky was doing perfectly fine. He wasn’t raring to make a name for himself or see some great bloody glory. He definitely wasn’t interested in signing up for the war. The picture of his father on the mantel, clean shaven in an army uniform from twenty years ago, kicked the sense back into him whenever he thought about it. If the photograph of the man Bucky could barely remember didn’t work, the urn next to it surely did. 

And all of these things were reasons why, when he unstuck the damp mail from his sisters schoolbooks, the bottom just about dropped out of his stomach. The ink was a little smeared from getting wet, but still perfectly legible: for him, with the selective service system logo stamped right on the front. 

It was like the entire apartment tilted, rocked like a seesaw and threw him completely off balance. Without even thinking, Bucky stuffed the letter into his pocket. He didn’t want to look at it, think about it, deal with it. Whatever it said-as if there was any question as to its contents-he would worry about later. Preferably not standing in the middle of the kitchen in his grimy work clothes, whale eyed and frightfully pale.

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

The letter remained stuffed deep in Buckys pocket until after supper. Bathed, comfortably full and bone deep tired, he was usually out like a light after working a full day. But instead of passing out underneath the quilt-a gift from the elderly widow two floors up, after he’d spent the summer of ‘35 bringing up her mail and groceries and painting over the water damage on her kitchen ceiling-he fished the letter out from the pants strewn on the floor and just…held it. Looked at it. Turned it over, looked at where his address had been smudged a little by the damp. It was definitely for him; no mistake there. His full name was right there on the address line, middle initial and everything. 

Maybe it was completely mundane! Every guy had to sign up for selective service-tons of them probably got letters about misspelled words or unchecked boxes. Maybe he’d written something down incorrectly back when he had filled out the forms. 18-year-olds were stupid, after all, and he probably hadn’t been paying that much attention to the information he was putting down. That was most likely it; He’d put his birthday down as October 3rd instead of March 10th by accident, or initialed something that was supposed to be a signature or vice versa. So what if it’d been four years since he filled out that paperwork? Tiny errors like that were probably pretty low priority for the selective service, especially after America joined the war. 

He was just going to open the letter and see what they needed him to fix or resign. 

He opened the letter. He read it once, then twice, then three times. 

There was no problem with the paperwork he’d filled out at 18. 

He didn’t need to resign any forms or recheck any boxes.  

He did need to report to the local selective service board the following Tuesday. 

Oh. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. 

Buckys first thought wasn’t ‘I don’t want to join the military’. It wasn’t even ‘I’m scared’. Buckys very first thought was for his family. He couldn’t be in the military! He was an important part of the household! The Barnes had only recently edged back into a relatively comfortable financial situation because of the combined incomes Bucky and his Ma brought in, and someone had to be around to look after Rebecca-as much as she’d protest and whine that she was 16, she didn’t need to be looked after-when their Ma couldn’t. Someone needed to haul Steve out of fights and into dance halls, because yes, Steve was as good as family, would’ve been even if Rebecca hadn’t declared he had ‘adopted brother rights’ years ago. 

Buckys second thought was ‘I don’t want to join the military’, because he didn’t. He’d never wanted to, never even seriously entertained the idea. There had already been a Barnes man in a war and it had destroyed him; robbed a good man of his peace and his health, robbed Buckys mother of a husband and himself and Rebecca of a father. Hell, Rebecca had never even met their father-he had died two months before she was born. A couple of old photographs, a ceramic urn, and a watch and wedding band with no hand to wear them were all she knew of the man. 

It made Buckys stomach turn to think about leaving his family for the thing that had put his father in the grave before 40. 

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

The next morning he started to think. He couldn’t tell his Ma he’d been drafted-he certainly couldn’t tell Rebecca or Steve. They’d all worry too much for him. The downside to having loved ones was that as much as you loved them, they also loved you. And loving someone meant worrying for them when they were about to get scooped out of their life with less than a months notice. 

It’d be less worrying if he'd just enlisted, if he had made a choice, even a rash, ill-advised one. At least that would imply he had some sort of excitement or confidence in joining the military. At least that would imply that he was ready, that nobody needed to worry about him because Bucky himself wasn’t worried or scared or hesitant. 

That was the thought that he chewed on all day. Chewed on it so much, in fact, that he barely chewed anything else, including his supper. And that was strange behavior for Bucky. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Rebecca had asked him. It sounded incredibly blunt, but to be entirely fair, she had first made a frantic gesture towards the peas on her plate with her head-because Rebecca was not eating peas that week, and if she could switch their plates without their Ma noticing she could avoid a stern look and a ‘clean plates club’ lecture-and then kicked him under the table when her head tossing got no response. 

Their Ma was looking at him, too. If there was one thing the Barnes siblings were, it was chatty, and although Rebecca had been blathering on about how a girl in her geography class had gotten in trouble for wearing lipstick, Bucky had been almost entirely silent. And he’d barely touched his food even though he wasn’t on the same legume strike as his sister. 

He shrugged, trying to play it cool, casual and calm. He took a bite of his food-the peas were fine even if they came from a can, because their Ma was an excellent cook. Rebecca was just weird about food sometimes-to give himself time to think. 

He settled on “I can’t walk you home next week.” 

Rebecca sighed in that ‘God, you’re all so uptight and dramatic’ way that teenagers do. “I don’t need you to walk me home. I’m not a kid, I know how to get home from school.” 

Their Ma gave him another curious look, though. “Did you make plans?” she asked. “With Steve? With a girl?”

She didn’t sound upset, just…curious. It was odd, after all, for Bucky to not want to walk Rebecca home. He tried very hard to align his hours at the docks with her school schedule. It was important to him, to make sure she was safe and that nobody bothered her. 

“Sort of.” He replied. 

He knew that wasn’t a very good answer, and his Mas face reflected it. He’d never in one million years chose some dame over his sister, and Steve was as good as Rebeccas second brother. He was more likely to just join in on the walk than make plans over it. Hell, half of the time they did things as a trio-things like pooling Christmas and birthday money to go to Coney Island, an outing upon which the then teen boys had ridden the Cyclone, Steve had vomited into a public trash can, and Rebecca had proven that she was somehow remarkable at darts despite never having played before in her life. 

His Ma raised her eyebrow. God, he was bad at lying, bad at keeping secrets, bad at misleading people. 

“I-” He met his Mas eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, steeled himself. “It’ll be a few days next week, actually. I enlisted and I’m reporting to induction on Tuesday.” 

The world didn’t end once he said it. A small part of him-the part that reminded Bucky he hadn’t lied to his Ma since he was 17 and she asked if he had cigarettes in his bedroom, and even then he’d come clean about two hours later-had expected something huge and dramatic to happen. Maybe both his mother and sister would drop their forks and snap their heads up, maybe a police siren or fire alarm would go off somewhere nearby, maybe lightning would strike the building. 

But none of that happened. Rebecca continued pushing her food around her plate. “No you didn’t.” She scoffed.

Their Ma didn’t dismiss his statement as a joke, but her expression was difficult to read. “You did?” She asked, her voice stern and level. 

Bucky kept going. In for a penny, in for a pound. “I was just thinking about it and it seemed like a good idea. I stopped at the recruiting center last week. I…” 

He trailed off. This wasn’t a perfectly thought through lie, but it felt like a necessary one. 

“Yeah.”

Rebeccas fork actually did clatter to her plate once he finished talking. She looked up at her brother, agape with bright pink spots at the high points of her cheeks. 

“You’re fucking joking! You can’t just leave!” 

“Rebecca Grace!” Their Ma snapped, though it was clear that her heart wasn’t in it. 

Rebecca shot up from the table, her eyes-bright blue like Buckys, like their late fathers-welling up with tears. “No! You can’t leave, that’s not fair!” 

With that she stormed off, the slam of her bedroom door in the small apartment sounding like a gunshot. 

Bucky swallowed and looked down at his food. He wasn’t hungry anymore. 

“James.” 

He looked up at his Ma. Guilt immediately began to eat at him. Guilt for the lie, guilt for having to leave them, guilt for everything his Ma had been through and would go through in the future. 

“What branch?” 

He swallowed again. The guilt was crawling up his throat like vomit. He wanted to admit it was a lie, to say he was scared and didn’t want to go and didn’t know what to do. But there was nothing to be done. All he could do was help the people who loved him to not worry so much. 

“Army. Like dad.” 

She raised her eyebrows. They barely ever spoke about George Barnes military career. Not to say that they never spoke about Bucky and Rebeccas father at all-he’d been the love of their Mas life, she had plenty of stories about him. But they didn’t talk about his time in Europe. Bucky had always gotten the impression that his father hadn’t spoken much about his time in Europe when he was still alive, anyway. 

“Your father was drafted. He didn’t choose the army.” 

He shrugged. 

She sighed and put her fork down, picked it back up, put it down again. 

“I don’t-” She sighed again. “I can’t tell you what to do. You’re a grown man and you get to make your own choices.” 

Bucky didn’t feel like a grown man at that moment. He felt like a little boy trying to convince his mother that he wasn’t afraid of the dark. 

“Do you genuinely want to join the military?”  

The earnest concern in the question was what broke him. He took a very deep breath and met his Mas eyes, blue on brown. She had asked like there was any changing it. Even if he had voluntarily enlisted, he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it after the fact. 

“No. I-I…the letter came yesterday and I have to go on Tuesday and I-.” Bucky cut himself off, feeling something far too much like tears in his eyes, something far too much like a sob beginning to choke up his throat. 

“Jamie, sweetheart…” She stood from the table and opened her arms to him, a hug that he gladly accepted. Three inches taller than his mother or not, 22 years old or not, there was nothing more comforting than his Mas embrace. 

“It’ll be alright, Jamie.” 

By god, he hoped so. 

[mcnamara-ortega-and-jones]

Where Did Alisa’s Dad Go?

Mr. Ortega is in one scene in the first book. He is mentioned by Alisa one or two other times in the first book, and then NEVER TALKED ABOUT AGAIN. Like??? Avery gets his phone number???

Also- in the final gambit, does NO ONE think to inform him that his daughter’s been kidnapped? Alisa doesn’t canonically have siblings, but her dad is IN AVERY’S CONTACTS. You have time to threaten Mr. Laughlin that you’ll burn a maze down (how does she expect to find people without Alisa?) but you don’t have time for a quick call to a probably worried father?

Maybe Nash or someone told him, but I find it HIGHLY unrealistic that he wouldn’t come banging on the door to help get his daughter back.

In conclusion- justice for Alisa and her father.

[felonytaxevasion]

My current favorite Ward headcanon that is absolutely untrue to everyone but me is that Florence Vasil gets along so well with Foil and Parian

This is mostly just because she likes frilly goth tea party dresses and so does Parian. But it is also because Florence is the most nightmarish Vasil and I think there's a lot of comedic potential pairing her with the least nightmarish undersiders