#but the fact that the tag is full of shipping and almost NOTHING about plot?

[sleepynegress]

FINALLY... LOKI gets interesting.

Of the Marvel shows, LOKI is the one I cared for the least, but I'm a Marvel completist sooo... This season has great performances and interesting casting, but the storyline just hasn't been hitting for me. Well, they just dropped the first true horror of the Marvelverse. No, I don't count Wanda and Strange's movie, because Rami always tempers the scares with goofiness. This ep though? YEESH is honestly the most terrifying thing I've seen in the Marvelverse. If they nail the homerun, they could salvage this season.

[serenailith]

i’m saying more right now than i ever said

for @dreamlingbingo

Square: c3, free space Rating: e Word Count: 2978 Ship(s): dream of the endless/hob gadling Warnings: none Additional Tags:  alternate universe - human, alternate universe - no powers, porn with a sprinkle of plot, (actually a fair bit of plot), unrequited love, maybe not so unrequited love, nothing to lovers - freeform, one (1) idiot in love with another idiot Summary:

Really, after two years, it was inevitable that one of them would stupidly fall in love.

Link: on ao3 masterlist

He’s a pretentious, self-righteous, arrogant, pompous arse, or so Hob has heard, but damn, does Hob love the way Dream looks right now. His wild, sable hair plastered to his forehead, blue eyes narrowed, a bead of sweat sliding along his temple as he fucks into Hob with a determination that Hob imagines is reserved for Olympic sports. It would be amusing, how focused Dream is right now on something like sex–something that should be fun and full of more emotion than this–but all thoughts flee Hob’s mind at the next rough thrust.

Well, the thoughts that don’t revolve around Dream’s cock, anyway.

As it is, Hob finds himself infatuated with the beautiful creature that is Morpheus “Dream” Emrys.

Not that Hob would ever dare say as much. He and Dream aren’t exactly what one would call “friends”. Not even enemies, either. They just… are, yet are not. They’re two people who met at a pub two years ago who occasionally sleep together (except ‘occasionally’ has become ‘nearly every weekend’, which Hob is certainly not complaining about). They don’t speak to each other outside of the texts; tonight’s had only said “I’ll be there in 15”, from Hob to Dream as he’d stormed to his car. Dream hadn’t even responded, but Hob found the door to Dream’s flat unlocked and the man himself sprawled naked across his bed when Hob entered the bedroom.

Now it’s nearing four o’clock in the morning and Hob is groaning as his release splatters across his belly, as Dream continues fucking him with ruthless vigour. It’s almost too much, but that’s Dream. He pushes the boundaries but never crosses them. Hob knows if he says something, Dream would stop. He would apologise and ask if Hob wants to continue. Hob would very much like to continue: Sex with Dream is some of the best sex Hob has ever had.

Eventually, it’s over, and Hob is unceremoniously pointed toward the door once they’ve both cleaned up. He exits the building hiding a smile, despite the way the evening ended. It isn’t unexpected, anyway. In fact, it’s almost comical how Dream still walks him to the door after so long of their trysts. Hob could walk around the flat with his eyes closed and never so much as stumble.

Two years of this. If it were anyone else, Hob is certain he would have long grown tired of it all—the journey back to his own empty home, the lack of talking, the lack of caring. Sure, Dream is considerate and respectful, even giving to a fault, but he doesn’t give a damn about Hob outside of the bedroom. He’s made that quite clear with the utter refusal to ever acknowledge Hob’s texts.

Hob knows it’s ridiculous, how hung up he is on Dream, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

The next week passes in a long, slow crawl. He hardly pays attention to the lectures he gives, and poor Richard, the teaching assistant, receives more essays to mark than he normally does. Hob prefers to take the brunt of the workload–it is his job, after all–but his mind continuously strays from his tasks. He even burns dinner three nights of seven, which is especially frustrating when all he wants is the homemade curry he planned for Friday that only ends up in the garbage, charred and inedible.

But Saturday… Saturday brings with it a firm knock on the door before the sun is even fully up. Hob scrambles for his phone on the nightstand, peering blearily at the screen. His lips tug down into a frown at the time, at the texts that wait to be read:

D 10 D 5 D I am outside

As he reads the last text, another knock sounds from the living room. Hob rolls his eyes and stretches out the kinks in his back. Dream can wait just a moment, can’t he? Except the timestamp on the latest message says he’s been waiting for, at the very least, five minutes. Hob still takes a moment to stop in the bathroom and use the toilet, wash his hands, do the normal ‘first woken up’ thing.

“Good morning,” he all but chirps when he pulls open the door.

Dream glowers in response but doesn’t speak as he brushes past Hob. Hob pulls a face behind his back and closes the door as his whatever-Dream-really-is heads straight for the bedroom. So this is how Dream wants it, then. Hob stifles a sigh but dutifully follows. It may be half-six in the morning, but he isn’t about to turn down an hour or two in bed with Dream.

To his surprise, Dream allows the reverence Hob feels he’s always owed, especially with his pale, smooth skin and sharp angles on display. Dream lies there, one hand tucked under his head and the other at his side. His lips are quirked upward in one corner, the slightest hint of a smirk on his face, as Hob’s hands slide along the flat planes of his abdomen.

Beautiful, he is. His hair is just as wild as ever, and his skin is soft beneath the rough drag of Hob’s palms. His thighs are narrow and strong between Hob’s own, and he lets out a slow breath when Hob slides one hand along the solid line of hip. The steadiness of inhale-exhale breaks as Hob wraps his fingers around Dream’s cock, and Hob grins to himself as he gives a tantalising stroke.

“What brings you by so early in the morning?” he asks before leaning down to nip at Dream’s clavicle.

“Do not ruin this already, Gadling.”

“I would never.”

And it’s true. Hob will do anything he possibly can to keep this arrangement going. So he shuts up and tightens his grip as he bites down on smooth skin. Dream finally cracks–he grits his teeth against the moan that even Hob can hear struggling to escape. His hips jerk up toward the ring of Hob’s fist.

By the time Dream pushes into him in one, slick slide, Hob can scarcely breathe for the lust. He always suffers from this effect, the one only Dream can cause. Hob has had other partners in bed–Hell, he has three others who are willing and completely informed of each other’s presence. Hob is perfectly content with his sex life.

But Dream? Dream is the sole lover who can send Hob’s head spinning, his body yearning even while getting what it wants, his mind constantly fixating on what has happened between them from the start.

‘Lover’. Hob knows that’s a poor word for what they are. There is no love between them, though he can’t deny there’s something there on his end. It’s silly, but he can’t stop himself from… From falling for the enigmatic man currently pleasing him in ways no one else can.

Dream leaves two hours later, both of them sated, if a little disappointed (on Hob’s part). At least, Hob hopes Dream is as satisfied as he is, or else it would be a very awkward encounter next time.

If there even is a next time.

God, does Hob hope.

With a sigh, he rolls over in bed and reaches for his phone. Johanna has texted, a simple “Bar tonight, NO no allowed.” As if Hob will refuse; he needs it after this morning. It was fun, it was more than that, really. But Hob knows that each time, every single time he spends any amount of hours–minutes–seconds in Dream’s presence, he falls even more in love.

And it hurts. It aches in his bones to know he’s given so much of himself to Dream without the man reciprocating. Hob isn’t sure Dream even realises. They’re nothing but two men who sleep together every weekend.

That fact would kill Hob if he let it.

Drinking with Johanna is, as ever, a veritable rollercoaster ride that ends in regret the next morning. He isn’t sure what he says to her after the fifth (or was it the seventh?) shot of whisky, but judging by her texts the following day, it was a lot more than he ever had before. She’s surprisingly supportive in her own acerbic, crude way.

Jo If the idiot doesn’t realise what he has in you, then fuck him. You’re not a bad bloke, not really. A bit of a prick at times, though. Jo Can’t believe I’m saying this but talk to him. Worst that happens is he fucks off.

Yeah, that’s definitely the worst. Hob replies with nothing more than a ‘Thanks’ and an emoji of a kissing face. He knows she’ll make some sort of snide comment about it, but he also knows it’ll make her giggle though she would deny it. One thing about Johanna Constantine is that she is sharper around the edges than most, and she wears that fact like armour. However, she is oddly soft and gooey inside. And he loves her for everything she is.

At one point, he thought maybe it was actual love, the kind that something could have grown from. Then she’d soundly put that notion to a cold, abrupt rest when she started waxing poetic about her girlfriend Rachel while completely intoxicated. It’s the only time he’s ever seen her so drunk.

Hob hesitates then sends another message. There’s no response, though he expected it. He still sits up, pausing when his head spins and the world goes wobbly at the edges, then rises to his feet. After dressing as quickly as possible, he hurries out of the flat and down the stairs. Mrs Callisto from across the hall glances up at him from where she stands by the postboxes.

“Ah, Robert! You are in a rush this morning.”

He only smiles in return then steps out the door. The brisk air clears the fog from his mind, but it doesn’t make him falter. It almost seems to invigorate him, further persuade him to do what needs to be done. And this? This needs to be done.

It’s been a long time coming, really.

So Hob swallows down any doubts he might have and ambles down the street. He could drive–it would certainly be faster–but he really doesn’t think it’s safe enough to do so. Not with his mind so full of thoughts that drive him to distraction. Yeah, walking is definitely the safer option.

Dream opens the door moments after Hob knocks. His hair is messier than usual; Hob recognises the style, though he’s never seen it before. The man he loves has just woken up. Hob wonders if it was his text or the knocking. Forcing his thoughts back to the task at hand, he draws in a steadying breath.

“I need to say something, and I need you to hear me out, okay?”

Dream gives him an indecipherable look then steps out of the way for Hob to enter the flat. He still says nothing, and if Hob ‘accidentally’ lets his hand slide along Dream’s stomach, he will never admit it. Though he does relish the way Dream shivers subtly at the touch.

As soon as Hob comes to a stop in the living room, he turns to face Dream. “Look. We’ve been doing this for, what, two years now? And I have zero complaints, really. It’s been fun in ways I can’t put into words. Because you are… You are incredible in bed. Has anyone told you that before?”

Dream stays silent, but there’s a smirk playing on his lips. Of course he’s cocky about this, Hob thinks.

“But–” And here, the smirk fades away. Dream’s brows draw together, lips pressing thin, and Hob swallows thickly. This is it. “But I can’t keep doing this. Not without you knowing that–that I love you. I have for a while, I just didn’t realise it. And honestly? It’s really starting to suck. It hurts to feel this way knowing you don’t feel the same. It hurts, Dream. Can you say something?” he asks, pleads, when Dream only stares.

“You love me,” Dream whispers after a long moment, and Hob nearly collapses to his knees at the sound. It’s been so long since he actually heard anything from Dream other than his moans; he never even spoke to tell Hob whether to fuck him harder or take it slow or anything.

“I do.”

“That is… That is quite ridiculous of you.”

“What?”

Dream shrugs, mouth opening and closing, before: “I am the worst person you could choose to love, Hob.”

“Not from where I’m at.”

“So not only are you ridiculous, you are a fool, as well.”

Hob blows out a breath. He should have known that Dream would be stubborn about this; he’s been stubborn about maintaining their status quo for two damned years, after all. Forgoing words, Hob strides closer. Dream stays still as Hob cradles his face and brings their faces closer together.

“You are insufferable,” he murmurs before kissing Dream. Their lips brush with each word: “Frustrating. Demanding, commanding. Amazing.”

“You know nothing about me.”

Hob pulls back just enough to look Dream in the eye. Unwavering. Serious. “I know how you like to be touched, how you sound when you’re kissed thoroughly, how you feel when I slide into you. I know I want to know how you like your coffee and your favourite foods and how it feels to just cuddle with you at night as we fall asleep.”

“I…”

“Please, please, let me find out.”

Dream is the one who closes the distance this time. His arms loops around Hob’s neck, and he tugs until Hob follows where he leads. The back of Hob’s knees hit the couch; he falls to the cushions with a severe lack of grace. His confusion vanishes when Dream straddles his lap, lips never separating from Hob’s even when their breathing grows strained.

After a moment, Dream finally yanks away, eyes alit with something Hob can’t name, and slithers off of Hob’s lap. His slender hands work deftly at the button on Hob’s jeans; Hob finally catches up, lifts his hips so that Dream can tug his jeans and underwear down. Dream grins up at him–God, that smile does something to Hob’s heart–before swallowing him down to the root without hesitation. Hob groans at the wet heat and melts further into the cushions as Dream sets up a brutal pace.

He slides a hand through Dream’s hair, fingers wrapping around the locks, and gasps when Dream hums around the length in his mouth. Hob can’t stop himself: He thrusts shallowly, just a tiny bit, and Dream’s hands rest on his knees. His nails dig into the skin there, and he remains still as Hob continues pushing and pulling into his mouth. Hob’s head falls back as heat sizzles in his veins.

This conversation has taken a turn that he hadn’t expected–couldn’t have seen coming–but he can’t complain. He can only allow Dream to pull off, to mouth teasingly at the tip of his cock, before pulling away completely. Hob all but whines at the lack of contact. Dream smirks, strips off his pyjamas with efficiency, and Hob reaches for him. Shaking his head, Dream disappears down the hall.

He comes back within seconds, a black bottle in his hand. Hob gives him a sloppy smile at the sight of the lube. Dream settles back on Hob’s lap and cracks the lid open. He glares at Hob when he goes to take the bottle; Hob huffs out a laugh and raises his hands in surrender. Seemingly appeased, Dream coats his fingers and reaches behind himself.

It takes less time than Hob expects, but then Dream is lowering himself onto his cock, grimacing before his expression smooths out, jaw drops open. Hob is just as affected by the sensations. Once Dream has stilled, Hob surges forward to kiss him again. His hands find Dream’s narrow waist, clinging to him tightly, as he fucks up into the tight warmth surrounding his dick.

It’s not what Hob wanted when he came over this morning. He wanted a discussion, to tell the truth and hear it back, but instead, he’s getting this. It feels amazing. Dream always does. But Hob knows it won’t be as satisfying as it normally is. Sex being used as a distraction rarely is a pleasant thing.

He feels strangely empty as Dream clambers off his lap a few minutes later.

Once they’ve cleaned themselves up, Dream gracefully lowers himself to sit beside Hob. Neither man has deigned to put on their clothes again, so Hob is nearly distracted to want by the pale skin stretched out next to him.

“It… It is not love,” Dream says, his voice quiet in the silence, and Hob flinches as if the words are a physical blow. “You wanted honesty, I presume? This is me being honest. It is not love that I feel, Hob.” Dream’s head turns, and he pins Hob with a steady gaze, steel-blue eyes gentle like he’s trying to let Hob down easily. Hob resigns himself to leaving behind something that could have been fantastic. “But it very well could be, should I allow it.”

It takes a long handful of seconds for the words to register in Hob’s brain. When they do, his lips part. His heart lurches beneath his ribs, and his throat tightens. Could this mean–?

Dream nods slowly, decisively, pointedly. Hob loses his composure. He launches himself at the man he loves, the one who doesn’t yet love him back but could in the future, but that’s okay. As he kisses Dream within an inch of their lives, he vows to be patient. He can wait.

He’s already waited two years, after all. He'd wait a hundred more.

[cebwrites]

rambling about a plot point post-Wano that got out of hand 😳😳

oc x canon, he/they law word count: 1.6k

For context, during the 6 month period in the timeskip where Law cut off all communication with Kirin, Kirin picked up two kids who needed a ride home The longer they stayed the more the adults on the crew realized there was no 'home' for these kids to return to and started looking for places to drop them off safely (this ended up being with one of Kirin's exes that he's still on good terms with) Kirin emotionally tells the kids that he isn't fit to be their dad because of the life he lives and the kind of person he is but he's made as sure as he can that they're left in good hands and taken care of After a lot of crying he eventually leaves the island with the promise of coming back (if possible)

Now with the Heart Pirates along with them Kirin and go visit Mt. Yin again at some point and obviously the Hearts are a bit ??? when these two kids try to take "dad" (Kirin) out at the knees with hugs, Rio less so but since he wasn't there his eyebrows still raise Someone explains the situation while they walk to the parents' house and the kids cling to their "dads", they eye Law for a little bit but mostly have their attention on Kirin and Reiji, the majority of the crew stay at the ships not to balk the parents with a huge audience but Bepo, Pen, and Shach, and Tetsu, Izzy, and Rio tag along

When they get to the house there's warm welcomes and catching up with old friends, Law and Kirin finally get a quiet moment to themselves after a bit and Law mentions this is kind of a lot to take in at once, asks when he was going to tell them that they're parents now, Kirin apologizes but does mention that the past few months have been nothing but shit hitting the fan after all He gives them a quick peck on the cheek and says that he'll make it up to Law later before the boys pull him up from the couch to play with "Mr. Bear" and Pen/Shach that (lowkey frustratingly but Law won't admit it) get along immediately with the kids who seem to want to keep their distance from him

Later in the day while the kids are still playing outside with Bep/Pen/Shach/Tetsu Kirin has a conversation with his ex and his wife about if it's really okay for the boys to keep calling him dad since he isn't around that often and there's no telling when the next time he can visit will be/if at all The parents just look at each other and then tell him that the short time they spent together means a lot more to the boys than he thinks and that if they wanna call him that, they're free to as long as they want to - Kirin's bashful but accepts it, Reiji and Rio are in the background cooking, Law's standing by the door pretending like he's not listening in but Izzy definitely Perceives™️ the emotions they're trying not to show

The plan is to stay a week and a few days to explore the town (for new crew members who haven't been) and just overall relax, and the entire time it seems like Law's at odds with these little squirts for just a moment of Kirin's time - the younger one is just wary and shy (a stranger that towers over him with full body tattoos, facial hair, and a 'mean' resting expression, no duh) but the older one almost seems to be actively antagonistic in pulling Kirin away to do more fun things but Law's not gonna bring that up because one, that's a dumb kid, and two, he's apparently Kirin's dumb kid

One night late into their stay the older one approaches Law at a campfire while everyone else is having fun and flat out says he doesn't like them, Law holds back the urge to reply with likewise and just says that they figured The kid glares, pointing out that Law's that person, the one Kirin was reaching out to all that time but never answered, suddenly everything clicks into place for Law He continues, saying that they hurt his dad so he hates them - but Kirin doesn't, in fact he acts like nothing ever happened and loves Law just as much as the affection the kid saw him show Reiji - and he doesn't understand any of it Law takes a second to put their words together but ultimately admits it, that yes he hurt Kirin, that frankly they don't deserve this chance after all the opportunities Kirin gave them to come clean beforehand but if Kirin still sees something worth rebuilding towards then they're going to take it and work like hell to make it up to him The kid says so they're just a selfish prick and Law gets that little anger mark then slowly deflates

Yeah, they are selfish - they're gonna be selfish one last time if it means they can make things right with the man they love, the man they've been in love with all this time, god The kid gags and complains about gross adult stuff, Law attempts to ruffle his hair but their hand gets smacked away and the kid blows a raspberry at them before he runs off (somewhere in the back of his mind he thinks about cigarette smoke and lipstick and falling asleep in a giant feather coat around their frail, sickly body)

Rio swings by a bit later to tell Law that Kirin's looking for them, Law waves him off and says they'll be there in a minute Rio hangs around to light his tobacco pipe, keep warm somehow in this cold because he isn't standing close enough to feel the fire For whatever reason, maybe to fill the silence, he admits that it was nice to see Law get harangued by two little terrors for the better part of a week, it's good catharsis Law snorts something to the effect of them knowing he always had a chip on his shoulder about them, Rio  blows the smoke downwind and mentions that he was right to be skeptical though Law gets up to leave, Rio says they just wanted someone else to feel salt in their wounds for once They're both hard to love and it's harder for them to trust enough TO love, and they've both fucked up for the sake of trying to protect the same stupid man Watching the people he'd painstakingly learned to love and rely on grow and move on without him - now Law knew how it felt, so they were even and he's sorry for being so antagonistic, or whatever

Law gives them an incredulous stare and points out that 5 years of them being petty and argumentative was solved by a weekend of not being able to kiss their boyfriend as much as usual because of + minor harassment from a snotty tween? Rio hisses something about missing the point and tells Law that's the last time she'll try to be emotionally vulnerable with them, see if he cares As Rio's storming away, he feels that weird ~tug~ again and the sudden feeling of the air being a lot clearer, Law says to take it as a thanks, they removed the impurities from her lungs again - and that they wouldn't have to if Rio just stopped smoking Rio calls them a weirdo and to stop messing with her body like that, they both bicker all the way back to everyone else

On the second to last day of their supposed vacation, Law's alone with Reiji in the kitchen while he makes dinner and Law sets the table, it's not quite awkward but there's enough tension for Law to be more rigid than usual Reiji asks them to pass something from a cabinet opposite him, Law does, Reiji thanks them quietly but otherwise doesn't particularly look at them, n o w it's awkward By now Law's long smoothed things over with Kirin - however they've kept out of Reiji's way ever since he chewed them out for pulling that Dressrosa stunt in Wano, they're pleasant and joke around occasionally but things just haven't been the same between these two in particular, Kirin is a little bummed to see the rift but it's not like he blames Reiji for being furious back then, he sees Law trying their best too but ultimately it's not his decision to force any unwanted interactions

Law tries to bring something up, anything to fill the silence, but Reiji cuts him off by mentioning that it's nice to see them make an effort to warm up to the kids, it means a lot to Kirin - knowing that Law's probably the least keen to be around children so much next to Rio

They're a little caught off guard that Reiji's starting a conversation with him for once in a long while but manage to stumble something out about how the older one is still a little shit but at least the 'pranks' died down pretty quickly - Law isn't sure what to do about the younger one being timid around Law's 'scary' face though, considering it's just his face That gets an actual laugh out of Reiji, Law feels the air around them lighten a bit Reiji says that it's definitely going to take a while for the boys to fully accept them into their ranks, it was surprisingly tough for Tetsu but look at them now - gesturing to them having a snowball fight outside the window and Shachi absolutely eating shit with snow directly between the eyes - but also says that he's finally ready to forgive Law

They freeze on instinct but quickly melt into the hug Reiji wraps him in, hiding whatever moisture that threatens to leak out in the shoulder of Reiji's thick sweater Reiji pulls away with a little peck on his cheek and says that he'll go tell everyone that he wants to stay a few more days for an upcoming festival, not that Kirin would disagree but Rio might complain about scheduling Law nods, but points out the pots of stew Reiji still had going on the stove Reiji just smiles at them, tells Law to watch the fires and that he trusts them not to burn anything in this sweet family's house

[moonlitmanor]

(To be filled in later!)

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- Hazbin Hotel / Helluva Boss

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- Your Boyfriend (Visual Novel)

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[kirkodiletears]

Some thoughts on pairings and character development.

I am deliberately not tagging this post as sp'hura: I respect people's will to ship whichever characters they please and my goal is not to upset someone, but to analyze the characters and their interaction.

Nevertheless, I was thinking a lot recently about Spock and Uhura's characters and their pairing in AOS and the reasons why it just feels tense and artificial to me. They are both amazing beloved characters and strong personalities. And yet, they seem to drift apart in every other movie. In my opinion, there's a number of reasons for that. And obvious present spirk, that's "shining through" no matter what, is not the only one. In fact, I am not even sure they would work as a couple, even if Jim wasn't around. Not for long, anyway. Their characters aren't complementing each other, they are too similar and not in a good way: instead of balancing each other out, like in the case of Spock and Jim, Spock and Uhura's personalities amplify and disbalance one another. Reboot Uhura (not TOS one) is too much like a Vulcan herself: all tight up, always tense, intimidating, too serious, there is no lightness in her: TOS Uhura was singing and flirting, she was strong, yet gentle and never rigid, always very human in the best possible sense of the word. Reboot Uhura is different: she not about joking or flirting or singing or "bringing up a human side" in her partner: she's about ambitions, an "excellent student syndrome", speaking a million alien languages and kicking Klingon asses. She is a tough soldier, almost a superwoman. Which is absolutely fine for her as a character. But this has absolutely nothing to do with "bringing out a human nature" of her partner. In fact, with her "half Klingon-half Vulcan" behavior, she would very much benefit from a partner that would bring out her own human side: she needs that. Coupled with Spock, she makes him even more "Vulcan": closed, emotionless, uptight. And yet, this is the last thing she wants from her partner: in STID we can see that Spock behaving in a totally "Vulcan", emotionless way is hurting her so much, she can't help, but spill it out during the important mission and in front of the captain! She is NOT happy. She is SO hurt, that it causes her becoming emotionally compromised and unable to behave professionally, which for her character is unthinkable: being an excellent student, her ambitions, her reputation as being the best at her job, her professionalism: all those things are EXTREMELY important for her. More than this: with her around Spock becomes weak, inactive, "less" than he's on his own: in their relationship she is always taking the initiative (no matter if it's kissing in the turbolift, or saving her from Krall: at the end, it's HER who saves HIM, not the other way around). And this is not what he really needs, regardless of what he thinks he needs. He thinks, this purging of all emotions is his answer, but as we know, he couldn't be more wrong about it, as his attempt of Kolinahr shows.

Writers are determined to keep them together because it's a heterosexual pairing that has been created, by the looks of it, only to stop spirk from happening. Unfortunately, I see absolutely no other reason for it to exist. More that this: they took the ONLY existing important female character left from the original skeleton crew and diminished her role to being "a main character's girlfriend": in many scenes that she's involved in together with Spock, the necessity of her presence as an important contribution to the plot is debatable. This pairing doesn't benefit any of the two. And it feels so artificial and "off key". Especially in comparison to Spock's progressing relationship with Jim, which is so vibrant, natural and full of life and sparks, bringing Spock's human side out naturally, helping him to balance it out with his Vulcan side, and bringing out more disciplined and responsible side in Jim, at the same time nurturing his emotional side and opened heart. They complement and balance out each other perfectly, helping them to reveal their true nature and find harmony within. they define each other. Each one grows, becomes "more" in this relationship. With Spock and Uhura it's the opposite: they diminish each other. And it doesn't really work: in every other AOS movie Spock and Uhura drift further and further apart. The fact, that writers keep pushing them together, regardless of their nature and obvious logic of how the situation is unfolding, feels painful and forced to me and looks disturbing.

[pyroreadscomics]

TAG 9 PEOPLE YOU WANT TO KNOW BETTER:

(I love doing theses things btw) I was tagged by @gothamstreetcat (thanks btw). Don't know what the etiquette is for when someone tags a side blog but, shrug, I'll keep this here. (BTW if you do want my main blog i'm @pyrocortex)

1. Favorite piece of clothing you own? If it still fit me it would be that steampunk-y vest with actual tails, however it's probably the black and red dress with the flower pattern (It's my goth phase and i get to decide when it ends, which is never)

2. Your comfort food?

Homemade baked goods. It doesn't specifically matter what, the comfort comes from the baking.

3. Favorite time of year?

Autumn is just generally aces but Halloween month is that extra good stuff.

4. Favorite song?

Depending on mood: Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths, Adrianne by Orion Experience, Burning for You by Blue Oyster Cult, or Misanthropic Druken Loser by Days N Daze

5. Do you collect something?

Currently Nothing (except prephaps comics about Catwoman and D&D minis). previously? Stamps, coins, pretty rocks, MTG and Pokemon trading cards, legos, stuffed animals almost all when i was really young and didn't understand how "collecting" worked (like, secondary markets were a mystery to me, i just came across neat things and hoarded them like a dragon)

6. Favorite drink?

Hot Chocolate. Because the winter is cold, chocolate is tasty, and alcoholism seems like zero fun.

7. Favorite Fanfiction (if you are comfortable to share)

Sure, why not. Though given some of the fanfics that have most stuck with me are for fandoms tied to media properties i don't feel like giving even the most minor attention, or just fandoms i'm not willing to admit being a part of. That said Current favourite is: Red Robin Hood by Candlebreak (Batman) Which is not done, but damn if it not well written (and well constructed, and with thematic death). Plot tl;dr, Under the Hood AU where Jason kidnaps Tim after their fight in the tower and the entire bat family mobilizes to try to get him back. It's kinda really fucking dark in places (arguably no one in this story is in a mentally healthy place even before Tim got kidnapped) but... damn it's good. Also some previous favs which i'm willing to admit possibly do not hold up it's been a while since i've read these: Better Angels of Our Nature by bzarcher (Widowtracily, Overwatch), which one hand, Blizzard sucks as a company and by all reports overwatch currently sucks as a game, on the other hand... cute lesbian polycule working through trauma together (I'd say it doesn't quite hold up through the ending, but it's still solid). and legit, the first fanfic I think I ever read (which I found on Deviantart): Jane and Amelia 1: A Cry for Help (along with the rest of that series) by Firefall Bangenthump. Which is a crossover between's Disney's Tarzan and Treasure Planet, that ships Captain Amelia and Jane Porter together... And while it's been, probably more than half of a decade since i've read these, I do remember it being pretty good (and also it kinda just logged itself in my brain and hasn't left since). I have no explanation, or justification, save for the fact i was barely a teenager. On reflection it's probably weird that i can't think of any truly stand out fanfics for what I'd consider my biggest media obessions, (Cybersix, Discworld, the Vorkosigan saga, Catwoman). but also I will admit to not having done a through search (plus it's like, With discworld the vorkosigan saga and catwoman there's a mountain of official content, and full read throughs of any of those could take weeks (but more likely months or maybe even a full year) and with Cybersix it's just, old and obscure and last received new content a decade before ao3 launched). All that said i'd be down for any recommendations forged Catwoman centric fics. TAGGING: @biracialdamianwayne @harlequintears @pleasestophoney and@the-caped-crusader and anyone else who wants to do this.

[river-bottom-nightmare]

For some reason BirdFlash gives me the look like nerds but are actually jocks vibe while JayRoy are the look like jocks but are actually nerds vibe. TimKon is the classical jock + nerd and since this came to my mind I can't unsee

At first sight, birdflash gives off STRONG nerd vibes. wally’s actually known throughout the school for his science achievements, trophies, and awards. you don’t stand a chance against him in the science fair, don’t even try. and dick went to a fancy rich prep school where he scored some of their highest grades. just because he doesn’t like school doesn’t mean he isn’t good at it. and whenever they see each other in civvies, wally’s chattering on about this experiment he’s doing for fun and it seems like dick actually understands what he’s talking about, not just nodding along. and with a single visit to wally’s school, he revolutionized the tech department with a few careless suggestions. but really, that’s just their individual interests. wally might like science, but his entire life is running. he trains and trains, both with and without the speedforce. along with being trapped in that thing for years, wally’s pretty sure the reason he’s the fastest speedster is because of his strict track and cross-country training. and no matter what the circumstances, dick’s always happiest when he’s in the air. he possesses a natural athleticism that leaves others in awe along with skills finely honed to perfection for years that very few others could even hope to achieve. the two of them are long and lean and strong, and are in complete control over their bodies. they play different sports for fun, give each other leg warmers, socks, and water bottles for holidays, and go on early morning runs. the two of them are sports culture to the max (i actually made a post about that here)

now jayroy give off just the jock vibe, maybe even running into punk territory. first of all, lets get this out of the way: BICEPS. two of the biggest pairs of guns you’ll ever see, i swear. roy’s got a cocky smirk and he wears threadbare tank tops with dumb slogans on them and he never takes that trucker hat off. he makes his way into the basketball game going on at the courts on the bad side of town with a laugh. he squares up his fists for a fight any time there’s a hint of action. his nose is crooked from all the times its been broken and reset. not to mention his tattoos. and yes, roy loves lian with his entire heart and cares for her with everything he has, but that doesn’t change the fact that he was a teenager. now jason, jason just looks the part. he’s huge, and built like a goddamn brick wall. those muscles gotta be used for something, right? he’s always wearing those fingerless gloves, but his knuckles are constantly bruised anyway. you stop and take a double take anytime you see him when his lip isn’t split. almost everyone’s seen him with a gun. but he also spends his free time reading literary classics. his bookshelf is crammed full of old paperbacks, with everything from Frankenstein to Wuthering Heights to Farenheight 459 to The Importance of Being Earnest. The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy is a guilty pleasure of his. And he’s not just flipping through them either. no, he reads them. poking plot holes and other criticisms faster than a bullet. character analyzations sharper than his jawline. a lecture about the problem with many contemporary and modern novels longer than his dick. yea, jason devours those novels, and can tell you about all of them. as for roy, he’s inventive. always tinkering, always fiddling with a piece of tech, always creating. whether it be a new set of trick arrows or a coffee machine that spits out poison darts of a toaster that has 56 settings or a goddamn bazooka. he loves building stuff with his own two hands, a messy bun on his head, grease on his face, goggles shoved over his eyes as whatever he’s making sparks to life in his hands, bested only by the strike of pure creative passion in his eyes. textbook definition mechanic and geek, and we love him for it.

timkon is definitely the classic jock + nerd pairing. the only problem is that they always switch which is which. kon drapes his spiked leather jacket over tim’s shoulders when he’s cold, and later on at football games, tim cheers kon on wearing kon’s varsity jacket. but tim dropped out of high school because he has “better things to do” while kon just genuinely enjoys learning about stuff. kon does need help with his homework, so he calls tim, who always gives kon the math formulas he forgot the empirical formula of a compund that he doesn’t feel like calculating while simulaneously working on a couple other cases (he bounces his theories for a certain homicide off kon). but half of tim’s closet is made of sports jerseys for his favourite teams that he wears completely unironically even though they practically dwarf him, and he drags kon to all of their games while cheering and hollering, screaming at the tv when he can’t be there live,,,,and it’s not just one sport,,,,,nooo he’s got a good many he’s completely emotionally invested in. tim steals kon’s shirts so often that he just starts giving them to him, and dear god there’s almost nothing kon loves more than seeing tim wearing his clothes, looking tiny and misleadingly delicate and his. but tim carries around a skateboard and uses it practically 24/7, and one afternoon was spent teaching kon how to use the thing, including lots of laughing and falling over and steadying hands on waists, before a break at an ice cream parlour was followed by a sugary kiss. so yea, timkon is jock + nerd culture, with both of them being the jock and the nerd (also sorry anon i know you were thinking of kon being the jock and tim being the nerd, and honestly that’s how i usually view it too, its just this particular idea popped into my head and i had to write it) (also for timkon, i usually go for skate culture, and my hc for that is here)

ok wow this got a lot longer than i expected. i was shooting for a couple lines about my ships, and ended up with a whole new hc list instead. ooooof. tag list: @comicsandhoney @birdy-bat-writes @astroherogirl @anothertimdrakestan 

[recurring-polynya]

Tokusatsu Au where Rukia plays the lead actress in a superhero action show. Renji plays one of the villains and they are The most popular ship in the fandom. Bonus points if Orihime plays the main villain and loves every second of it.

This was the very first prompt I got, and I fell in love. Unfortunately, aside from a brief period of being grotesquely fascinated with Power Rangers as teen, I know almost nothing about tokusatsu. I did as much research as I could and I attempted to watch an episode of Kamen Rider, but my eyes glazed over halfway through. Anyway, please forgive my inaccuracies, I wrote this with my heart.

ao3 | ff.net

🏍    ⚡   🎬

“Uh, looks like we’re almost out of time,” the panel moderator for “High-Spirited Battle Clairvoyant Tomoe!: A Sneak Peak at Season 5” declared, “but would you be willing to take just a few audience questions?”

Head Screenwriter Kurosaki Ichigo glanced at Leading Actress Kuchiki Rukia out of the corner of his eye, and she gave a tiny nod.

“Yeah, sure!” he replied.

There was already a young woman waiting at the microphone, practically vibrating with anxiety. She was wearing a t-shirt that had ZabiTo4Ever!! handwritten in marker on it. Rukia knew, deep down in her bones, what the question was going to be.

“Hi, yes, hello, big fan of your work! My question is: are Tomoe and Zabimaru going to kiss this season?”

“No,” Rukia started to say.

“As you probably know,” Ichigo said loudly on top of her, “the show holds close to the core plot points of Kuna-sensei’s manga, although, because of her minimalist style, we do expand a lot of the dialogue and filler scenes. She has said in several interviews that High-Spirited Battle Clairvoyant Tomoe! is not a romance manga, so the odds of Tomoe and Zabimaru ever kissing on screen are very, very low.”

The young woman stared at Ichigo grumpily. “Does this also count Zabimaru’s secret college student identity, Satonako Takeru?”

Ichigo stared back at her. “Yes. It does.”

The next question came from a person wearing a full suit of HellKnight’s plasma armor made out of overlapping plates of cardboard. Rukia was kind of impressed by it. She wondered if he could sit down.

“Hi, Kurosaki-sensei, I am a huge fan of your work,” a voice emanated from deep within the cardboard. “I was wondering if you are influenced at all by fanworks, and if Episode 73: Pride is on the Line!: The Bake Sale Must Go On! was based in any way on the classic fanfiction, ‘Tell Me All Your Best Lies’? It’s the top story by kudos in the ZabiTo tag, which I might point out is the most popular shipping category on AO3.”

Ichigo cleared his throat gently. “I am contractually not allowed to read fanfiction, although I do enjoy fanart! There are some incredibly talented artists in the fandom, although for some reason, no one ever wants to draw pictures of Lead Screenwriters.”

“I’ll draw you, sleeping on the set like you always do,” Rukia offered, and that got a pretty big laugh. Rukia’s Tumblr of behind-the-scenes doodle comics was beloved among the fandom.

The next question was from a nonbinary person wearing a big poufy skirt and a hairstyle that would make their make-up and hair guru, Yumichika, sit up and take notice. “Hi, this is a question for Kuchiki-san! If the show is going to roughly keep pace with the manga, as it has done up until now, you should be shooting the storyline where Tomoe and Queen Bloodbuzz switch bodies later this year. I was wondering if you could comment on how you feel about filming that storyline?”

Finally! A good one! “Yes!” Rukia nodded eagerly. “I don’t usually like to speak for my fellow cast members, but Orihime and I are beyond excited about playing each other. We’ve been studying each other’s mannerisms and practicing already! Does anyone want to hear my Queen Bloodbuzz cackle?” She wagged her eyebrows as the audience cheered. “Here goes-- bwaHaHaHaHAHAHAHAAHAAAHAAAAAAAA!”

“Bonechilling,” Ichigo commented dryly as the audience erupted.

“Amazing, Kuchiki-san!” the moderator exclaimed. “I think there is time for one more, but this will be the last question!”

A tall girl in a full set of High-Spirited Battle Clairvoyant Tomoe motorcycle leathers stepped to the microphone. She was holding a notebook. “Hello!” she warbled. “In a 2020 interview with the Psychics and Sidekicks podcast, Abarai Renji was asked about his opinion on ZabiTo as a ship, and he replied,” she consulted her notebook, “‘Tomoe is such a cool lady and talented Battle Clairvoyant, and she always follows her heart and stays true to herself. I think that Zabimaru can’t help but be impressed with her, even though they’re enemies, and I always try to roll that into our on-screen interactions.’ I know that in the past you’ve refused to comment on the ship, but I was wondering if you had any thoughts on, y’know, his thoughts?”

“Well, he’s correct, of course, Tomoe is very cool and admirable,” Rukia replied, which drew a few laughs, although it seemed like the audience was leaning forward in anticipation of her answer. “Like I said, I don’t like to speak for other cast members. I’ll be doing a big cast panel with Abarai and Inoue and Matsumoto and Ukitake tomorrow afternoon, and I hope you all can make it! See you then!”

The moderator thanked them enthusiastically, and then Ichigo and Rukia slipped out the back guest entrance.

“Evasive as always, Kuchiki,” Ichigo teased.

“Whatever,” Rukia sniffed. “The higher ups say we’re not supposed to comment on stuff like that, and I was not commenting. By the way, how many secret fanfic accounts are you up to? Four?”

“It’s only three!” Ichigo paused. “I wrote that fanfic the guy brought up.”

“Of course you did,” Rukia sighed. “I do blame you personally for the popularity of the damn ship.”

“Me? Blame Kuna for making up two such sexy, emotionally constipated dumbasses!” Ichigo defended.

“Also, it’s not Ichigo’s fault that you and Abarai have insane chemistry.”

Rukia spun around, grinning. “Orihime!”

Rukia’s two co-stars, Inoue Orihime and Abarai Renji, the portrayers of Tomoe’s demonic archnemeses, stood in the hallway behind them.

“We sat in on your panel!” Orihime beamed. “You two were brilliant!”

“Don’t worry,” Renji added. “We were incognito.”

“Incognito” was relative, Rukia supposed, when you were at Tokyo’s biggest tokusatsu

convention.

Orihime was wearing a Zabimaru outfit so detailed that she probably could have won a prize down at the cosplay hall. She had the gravity-defying ponytail, the eyeliner, the insane widow's peak (complete with forehead tatts), the fangs, the motorcycle boots. The paper mache snake skull helmet was a little lopsided, but it was charming. She had her top zipped a little higher than canon, but that was forgivable, too.

Renji had taken the opposite tack of looking as much like a normal person-- or at least a normal Battle Clairvoyant Tomoe superfan-- as possible. Relaxed fit jeans and an oversized hoodie de-emphasized his ultra-fit physique. He was wearing a t-shirt with a very dramatic rendering of Orihime that said “Queen Bloodbuzz can step on me!” and a ball cap with the logo of Seireitei University, the fictional college Tomoe and Takeru attended.

“You think you’re in disguise,” Rukia pointed out, “but there are thousands of teen girls in this place with entire Tumblrs dedicated to your stupid face when you’re out of costume.”

Renji cocked an eyebrow at her. “You underestimate me, Rukia. I have bought… new sunglasses.” With a flourish, he whipped out a pair of the dorkiest wayfarers she’d ever seen, and flipped them onto his face. “I’ve disappeared! Who am I? Where am I?”

“You look really great, Orihime,” Ichigo said, his cheeks coloring a little bit. “Did you get Uryuu or Yumichika to help you with that costume?” In his continuing theme of doing things he wasn’t supposed to, Ichigo had finally started dating Orihime on the downlow around the time they finished up filming last season. It had done absolutely nothing for how shy he still got around her. They were, in Rukia’s opinion, cute as hell.

“Oh, no, that would be cheating!” Orihime replied, wagging a finger at him. “Well…maybe I did cheat, just a tiny bit. Renji helped me make the helmet and he held up references for me while I was painting on the tattoos.”

“Only the forehead ones,” Renji quickly added.

“He wouldn’t even offer feedback on my booby tattoos!” Orihime frowned. She leaned forward. “Rukia, how do they look?”

Ichigo turned even redder.

“Perfect, as in all you do!” Rukia replied loftily.

“What’s everyone got coming up next?” Renji asked. “I was thinking of slipping out and trying to pick up some real coffee.”

“I’m judging a villainess-themed cosplay competition,” Orihime chirped. “But I’m dying for a blueberry caramel iced latte. Renji, my henchman, pleeeeease!”

“Of course, my liege,” Renji replied in his Zabimaru voice.

It’s not like it had been a hard decision to accept the role of the motorcycle-riding, badass heroine of one of the most popular manga of the last decade, but it had turned out to be one of the best decisions of Rukia’s life. not just her career. Aside from a few of the money-obsessed executives, she liked nearly everyone in the cast and crew, but the fact that the fact that the ruthless, homicidal, literally Hell-spawned villains of the show were played by the two sweetest marshmallow people she had ever met just took the cake. Renji and Orihime had already known each other from some voicework they had done previously, and their excitement at working together on a live-action project had infected the entire cast from the start. Rukia wasn’t sure, but she strongly suspected that Renji was the one who had hyped Orihime up to ask Ichigo out.

“I have a writers’ workshop I’m moderating this afternoon, and I wanted to review the writing samples people sent in,” Ichigo said, scratching the back of his head. “I’d love to stop by that cosplay contest, though, at least for a few minutes.”

“You’ll be needing caffeine, too, then, eh?” Renji offered. “Hot, black, and in the largest cup they make, as usual?”

“Ugh, you’re the best,” Ichigo groaned. “You wanna power-up this season? Costume update? You know what? Maybe I’ll just have you defeat Tomoe once and for all, no one likes her anyway.”

“C’mon, you know I’m the world’s number one Tomoe simp, don’t do that!” Renji laughed.

Rukia rolled her eyes. “I’m free and I could use some fresh air. Besides, it’s going to take all your dumb muscles just to carry Kurosaki’s vat of coffee back here.”

“Cool!” Renji proclaimed. “We’ll be back soon!”

“Thanks, Renjiiiii!” Orihime waved.

“You need to stop off and put on a disguise?” Renji asked.

“No point in it, I always get recognized,” Rukia sighed, pulling her sunglasses out of her purse anyway.

“Here,” Renji said, plunking his hat on her head. “Maybe this will help.”

“Thanks,” Rukia replied, and then did a double take. “Whaaaaaat is on your head?”

“Shut up!” Renji laughed. He usually shaved his head when they were filming, because it made it easier to deal with the make-up and wigs, but since they were between seasons, he’d grown his hair out into a short, tousled mop of reddish-brown waves. He looked, for the lack of a better word, dreamy. “I shot a movie over the summer, and they wanted me to look softer.”

Rukia looked at him over the top of her sunglasses. “You didn’t tell me you were doing a movie!”

“Oh, it was just a little indy romcom thing. I wasn’t sure it was gonna pan out, I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

“You were in a romcom? You’re kidding me!” They ducked out of a side door of the convention center into the bright sunshine.

“Yeah, it’s about a guy who goes to the gym to try to get ripped to impress a girl, and makes friends with me, this nice, already ripped dude who gives him lifting tips and encourages him a bunch. By the end of the movie, it turns out we have crushes on each other.”

“Oh, no, that sounds really cute, actually!”

“It was written by a woman who graduated from one of Ichigo’s writing workshops. The script was really snappy and Ichigo thought having someone like me as the gym guy would give it just a bit of campy cachet. You know what a good sense he’s got for stuff like that.”

“That was cool of you to go out on a limb a little,” Rukia replied.

Renji rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d been wanting to try something like that for a while, actually.”

Rukia blinked. “You aren’t… you aren’t thinking of leaving the show, are you?”

“Huh? No. No! No, the show means the world to me, I would never. But… it’s not gonna run forever, y’know?”

“I would have guessed you’d want to be a big action star or something!” Rukia said, throwing a few air punches. “That’s my dream!”

Renji stuffed his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “Yeah, that’s what I thought I wanted when I first got into acting. I’d read the Tomoe manga, and I thought playing Zabimaru would be a good jumping-off point, besides just being a cool character overall.”

“Is that… not true?” Rukia frowned.

“Oh, I mean, I guess so! I didn’t really know about the fandom, though and… to be honest, I’m kinda into the idea that there are all these fans who think I’m complex and redeemable?”

Rukia regarded him out of the corner of her eye. “They just want to fix you.”

“Maybe! Ichigo made me read this one fanfic that was eight thousand words of the reader getting sick and Zabimaru making them soup? And feeding them the soup? I still haven’t decided how I feel about it.”

“How does he have time to find these things? Does he even sleep?”

“Anyway, it doesn’t hurt to be well-rounded and it was fun. I’m still mostly an action guy, but I wouldn’t mind doin’ something with a romantic subplot. A period drama or something like that. I look pretty good in hakama, you know.”

“I bet you do,” Rukia laughed. She squinted at him, but his expression was unreadable behind the shades. Renji didn’t have the classic leading man looks, not like her ridiculously famous older brother, but she could definitely see him as the best friend, the B-plot romance, with his cute, messy hair and that big doofy grin.

“By the way, I’m sorry you had to field that question about me spilling my romantic sensibilities on that podcast.”

Rukia laughed. “You didn’t even answer the question, either! These people are relentless!”

Renji stopped at a street corner and peered down the various possible directions they could go. “Which way feels like it might have a coffee shop?”

“You didn’t have one in mind before we left? I thought you knew where we were going!”

“Nah, I just like to go out and see what there is.”

“I can look up a map,” Rukia said, reaching in her bag for her phone.

“Let’s just go this way,” Renji said, stepping out into the street in the direction that had the WALK light. Rukia sighed and had to scramble to catch up with him.

“So, what do you think about it?”

“Huh?” Rukia asked. “Think about what?”

“Our ship. ZabiTo.”

“I can’t believe you just said that word out loud. And you know we’re not supposed to give our opinion on it!”

“Aw, c’mon, we’re not supposed to give public statements on our opinions. I don’t think there’s any harm in talking between ourselves. We’re in disguise, even.”

“‘Disguise’,” Rukia sniffed.

“You don’t like it, I can tell.”

“He’s a bad guy! Everyone always talks about chemistry, and that may be true, but I just don’t think that Tomoe could ever get over his acts of violence and cruelty.”

“Queen Bloodbuzz is cruel. Zabimaru is not cruel.”

“Okay, that’s fair, but still. He’s kidnapped just about all of Tomoe’s friends and or turned them into monsters at one time or another. He’s always setting Karakura Town on fire or flooding it with magic lizard goo. He ruined the sports festival.”

“Maybe the sports festival deserved to be ruined,” Renji muttered under his breath.

“Okay, you’ve got a point on that one,” Rukia admitted.

“It’s really clear though, that he’s got some agenda beyond just simping for Queen Bloodbuzz--”

“The simping for Queen Bloodbuzz is the most relatable thing about him, to be honest.”

“Granted. But, what if he’s got a good reason for everything he does, actually? What if he’s doing all of this against his own moral code as a means of infiltrating Hell itself and getting himself into a position of trust so that he can bring down the Lords of Hell from the inside?”

Rukia slipped her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose. “Does Kuna give you Zabimaru spoilers?” The reclusive creator High-Spirited Battle Clairvoyant Tomoe! was only barely involved with the television show, but she did privately meet with each of the cast members about once a year. Most of Rukia’s meetings consisted of Kuna giving her constructive criticism on her battle poses.

“No, mostly we practice sneering,” Renji replied. “But I gotta play the guy, so I gotta think about this, you know, what motivates him? I mean, you’re probably right, it would never work out. But unlike Tomoe, whose principles would call for her to ignore any attraction she has to him, Zabimaru has the freedom to pine for her, perhaps because his love is futile and he doesn’t think he deserves it anyway.”

“That’s kinda dark, dude,” Rukia frowned.

“Yes, well, that is the kind of character acting that netted me the 2019 Nickelodeon Kids’ Choice Best Villain Award, Foreign Language Category.”

“That’s literally what’s going through your head when you’re shouting that if I can’t make some sick motorcycle jump, you’ll turn all my friends into stuffed animal versions of themselves?”

“No, of course not! At those times I’m thinking about how much I love my job. OH! and what is that I see!” Renji struck an extremely Zabimaru pose. “A MISTER DONUT!”

“My hero!” Rukia exclaimed, unable to resist an opportunity to shout dramatically. “I’m sorry I doubted you!”

“I think we should get some donuts, too. Orihime loves donuts,” Renji declared.

“Oh, for sure,” Rukia agreed. She was thoughtful for a moment. It would be easy to move on to a different subject, the subject being donuts, but she wasn’t happy with leaving the last conversation hanging. “Look, Renji, just because I don’t like the dumb ship, you know that’s not a reflection on you, right?”

“Huh?” Renji replied. “You mean you don’t mind if I like it?”

“Well… I mean, I don’t, I guess, but what I really meant was, er… we joke a lot, but Tomoe and Zabimaru are just parts, y’know? Just because I don’t think Zabimaru isn’t good boyfriend material doesn’t mean I…” Rukia trailed off, suddenly realizing what she was saying. “Um. What I mean is. You’re very nice and probably one of my favorite people I’ve ever worked with and if someone I knew wanted to ask you out, I would definitely encourage them to, A+ guy, I’d say, probably would make a great boyfriend.”

Renji pushed his sunglasses up onto his forehead and regarded her for a long moment. “For the record, Kuchiki, I think that both you and Tomoe would make excellent girlfriend material.” While Rukia stood there and gaped like a fish, he turned and pushed open the door to the coffee shop. “Ichigo likes crullers and Orihime always wants the most colorful thing they’ve got. Do you know what you want?”

“I need to think about it,” Rukia squeaked. She wasn’t talking about donuts.

🏍    ⚡   🎬 

Bonus: Here are my notes from when I was making up the show. I hope this wasn’t too confusing!

High-Spirited Battle Clairvoyant Tomoe!

based on a manga by reclusive mangaka Kuna Mashiro

Head Screenwriter: Kurosaki Ichigo

🌟 Starring: 🌟

Kuchiki Rukia as Yukimura Tomoe, a spunky college student who can see ghosts and fights demons from Hell! She rides a motorcycle!

Inoue Orihime as Queen Bloodbuzz, a Lady of Hell, who seeks to gather energy from the Living Realm so that she can become the Supreme Ruler of Hell. Very aesthetic. Much bees.

Abarai Renji as Zabimaru, Queen Bloodbuzz’s ruthless henchman. He leads a double life as fierce-looking, but gentle-hearted college student Satonaka Takeru! What is his long game??

[cateringisalie]

My list of bearable Binal Bantasy VII tags is thinning...

But seriously. Being skeptical of Tifa’s narration of past events is not without merit. By the time the Lifestream scene rolls around she has been through three comas and some grevious injuries. The Lifestream scene is as revelatory for her as it is for Cloud.

The new assertion she was in any way actually friends with Cloud is not only in conflict with the OG’s portrayal but counter to Cloud’s development, her development, the growth of their relationship as adults and why (in general) people have them stay together post game.

Its unnecessary, frustrating and further damaging Tifa’s character who is spinning off further from who she was.

That Tifa and Cloud were not actually childhood friends does not mean they do not have a relationship in FFVII. It does not mean they cannot be together. Tifa “falling in love” with Cloud at the water-tower does not for a second make their later relationship any more meaningful.

All this new ship information does is make the relationship have longer longevity than previously assumed. As if whichever relationship has lasted longer is betterer and stronger. As if this should automatically undercut any other relationship Cloud or Tifa can possibly experience.

(in fact - and darkly cynically - this feels a lot more like enforcing that Cloud/Tifa and Zack/Aerith operate in near exactly the same way. The pairs fall in love in record time (two years prior to the Nibelheim incident both times as far as I’m ware), the boys go missing and the girls never move on with their lives. I get the boys have gone missing without a shred of explanation or closure, but now for both of them people are willing to wipe out a quarter of their lives waiting. Teenagers are resilient you know? They will be inconsolable if this happened but they would bounce back a lot faster and cleaner than they would expect. The approval of the never moving on this is purely to keep the shipping uncomplicated. There can only be one pairing for Tifa, there can only be one pairing for Aerith. And if you think otherwise you’re wrong in canon. And who wants to write or read about a non-canon ship? Unless its yaoi/yuri in any case. I am so tired)

Childhood friends incidentally is not, however much some insist, a common trope of the series - unless you stretch it a fair amount and it encompasses a trivial number of the pairings. And none of the big ones (you know; Squall/Rinoa or Tidus/Yuna).

Could Tifa do with more backstory? Of course. Did Tifa’s mother deserve a name? Absolutely! But not like this. Not when Cloud helping round up cats in Remake is now tied to finding Tifa’s cat in a new authored backstory. This speaks again to the constant magpie-ing of existing imagery and moments from older parts of FFVII to feed the present. The retconning in of importance by changing the meaning of otherwise unimportant moments.

Tifa is not and never was under any obligation to like Cloud as a child. She did not bully him, but neither should she expected to involve him in anything she did. I understand the book has muddied this gloriously, but for what effect?

I mean, I know where the desperation to make Cloud and Tifa childhood friends stems from. I know why you want Cloud to have fallen in love with Tifa at like age 5 or something and for Tifa to fall in love with him at 13. And I rail against it all the time that its not necessary. Being first does not mean better.

Maybe I am old, cynical and exhausted, but I kind of like watching Cloud and Tifa grow closer in FFVII. I like watching Cloud and Aeris grow closer in FFVII. I like to experience these things where I can... experience them? I don’t like reading books which assert things in blunt statements that clarify exactly what the writer intended. I certainly don’t have the patience to wait for a later book to clarify what happened on-screen when I have drawn my own conclusions based on my preferences. Especially as this is all contributing to that continued sense that the OG is a smelly, badly designed embarrassment we would rather tiday away for the crime of being graphically inferior (never mind it was championed on its looks on release) and “goofy” (and apparently unable to run the gamut of emotions I remember from serious to comedy, to silly, to tragic, to pessimistic and quietly optimistic and moving).

I’m coming back to this point to stress it - I want to see the relationship growth. Remake gave me that for Aerith and Cloud even if the details aren’t to my taste. First meeting is awkward because hey, random stranger/Cloud is tired. Cloud gets involved and spends more time with Aerith. And the high-five thing is used as a clumsy/awkward/eh but clear metaphor for how their relationship develops over the course of their time together.

To the point that yes, it makes sense for Cloud to want to rescue her. Less sense for Elmyra and Tifa to be “Well they might not vivisect her” and then delay for two full chapters, but the whole thing flows.

And here’s where I get accused of being a fake fan: I don’t like how Cloud and Tifa’s relationship develops in Remake. Flirting. Tifa being mildly fazed by Cloud claiming its been five years. Scared when he almost kills Johnny. Maybe hurt depending on your resolution scene (hey podcast people! No Gold Saucer multiple dates because too expensive? How are there branched resolution scenes in Remake then?). But there isn’t growth. They seem to fit into each other’s lives without worry, bit of flirting, strange super-intense moments jammed into inappropriate sequences (the train roll, climbing the plate, Cloud remembering the promise unprompted, Tifa not actually engaged with Avalanche’s plans). There’s no sense anything has changed between them, the missed five years has done anything to them.

And I’m sure some would take this as proof of correctness. But... somehow Remake is better for realism despite a lot of new clumsy, but this relationship is not dinged for being implausible? No way does that five year gap not seriously impact any prior relationship to say nothing of developing from scratch.

See this was a neat thing about the OG; while Tifa seemed to have an edge over Aerith by knowing Cloud longer, he was in effect meeting them at the same point in his life and more or less starting from scratch with both. Both ships are valid, and even if Cloud is with Tifa come the end, it doesn’t mean he can’t have romantic feelings about both women.

Oh, but Nojima has changed his mind/always intended it this way. And? I can change my mind about liking what he’s written - and my patience and tolerance of Nojima has waned massively since 1997. To the point where his involvement invokes a pained groan from me.

Plus the hilarious attitude that this is from the same people who insisted “the OG will always be there, stop moaning about Remake”. Well guess what? I don’t like Remake and I don’t really want it around. The OG is better.

Yes, Tifa is under-served and sure, it could be clearer about shipping (but the apparent hostility to ambiguity and personal interpretation is deeply distressing. These things can mean something to you and don’t have to mean the same thing to everyone. Interpreting the romancs - again - not a competition).

BUT

I will take the OG version of Tifa where she believed in the cause, where she had friends (again, yes, the relationship between Tifa and the rest of Avalanche is not well depicted, but it was better than actively curtailing it), where she ran a bar THAT ACTUALLY OPENED AND SERVED CUSTOMERS, where she hated Shinra, where she didn’t know how to treat Cloud because she had only really talked to him once in her life and DESPITE THAT that they great closer and spent their last night before THE END OF THE WORLD together over the Remake.

Where Tifa is wary of Cloud for about 5 seconds, twice and then defaults to constant flirting. Where Cloud is near smothering Tifa every second they’re together and she doesn’t tell him to fuck off once. Where she’s allied with Avalanche but hates their methods (and the pacifists are in a shop around the corner and she is not with them because...?). Where she has some absurd contrived plot about medical bills and buying Seventh Heaven for Barret and Marlene.

Which would lead to a whole other rant titled “Marle is the Worst” but this has dragged on quite long enough.

But seriously; if you argue that we can’t hate Remake because OG is always there, then you have to stop applying Remake back to OG and using it as proof. Which is exactly why many people bemoaned the Remake at all. OG is one thing, Remake is another. I don’t care for the latter.

And I know if anyone does read all this it will be about the meanie Cleriths who diminish Tifa for no good reason. And yes, they are indeed acting in bad faith. But what makes you think for a second evidence will convince these people?

In particular, the argument has raged so long and always will because if people do not like a ship they will not accept it as canon (if they care about this as a factor) NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS. Literally. Look at Loki if you want the most recent example of this.

Canon is to many “what I want” and often does not tally with the general interpretation. And you know, if being “canon” or guessing right early wasn’t triumphed as such a vital thing, we might not get these really terrible and pointless arguments.

Canon is a prize but here’s the big secret: fandom - in general - does not care. FFVII is an excellent case example given Sefikura overwhelms the other ships (and I think AZGSC is close?). And that’s not canon. That’s not even in the ballpark of the Cloud/Tifa vs Cloud/Aerith arena (even give that the former is roughly twice the size of the latter, you already won, so please stop?). Canon is only important if you think its important - and you get some more official art of sequences you can gif. And maybe you get kissing/implied sex/marriage/kids, but most of all you get a smug sense of superiority. And the last is why I have no patience with this.

[greenlightbulb-s]

Fic writer interview!!!!!!

~editing some bits by adding info!~

Since @irishseeeker tagged me (cheers for that! 💖), and it's the first time I've been mentioned to participate in this kind of questionnaire, here are my answers! 🤗

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 12 (I thought there were less of them lol)!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

95,374

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

They're two: Bridgerton and Anne with an E/Anne of Green Gables.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Right Path (Bridgerton)

Still... (Anne with an E)

A spoon full of... what on earth is this?! (Anne with an E)

Blue-eyed Girl (Anne with an E)

And, what do I get in return? (Bridgerton)

5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Sure thing I do! However, it's true that I rarely reply instantly, as I never access Ao3 on my phone with my account (from where I always read all the fics) because I always forget the password and I almost never access Ao3 from my computer unless it's to post a story.

But yes, I always reply to comments. Just like authors (lol me an author!) like to spend our time writing, readers who spend their time reading what we write are more than deserving of our response to what they tell us.

Needless to say how my heart grows a little bit bigger with every comment and kudo from readers. Seriously, without the readers we would be nothing! They are simply the best. 💖

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I hate (seriously, I HATE) angst and that's why I never write angsty endings. Real life is already angsty enough to end a fic like that (that's my opinion, you may disagree, of course!)... However, I do write angsty scenes because I want to reflect that life is not always rosy.

Anyways, I'm currently writing a fic in which angst is assured in most of the plot! 👀

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I haven’t, and I don't think I'll do it! But never say never!

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Luckily, I haven't received anything! And, taking advantage of this questionnaire, please, PLEASE! If you don't like a fic for whatever reason, don't send hate or unkind messages to the authors because the fic wasn't what you expected. Just stop reading, close the browser tab where you are reading the story and forget about it! And if you're feeling like dm-ing the author anyway, constructive and polite criticism is the only acceptable thing to do.

Simple, easy and for the whole family! ✌

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do!!!!! And it's hella funny! I'd say it's quite vanilla-like; I don't really feel comfortable writing about other sexual practices because my only "reference" is p*rn and THAT'S NOT REAL SEX!

Besides, it's heterosexual smut, as an a straight person it's the only sexual orientation which I can write in a way it's 100% genuine. Of course, I love seeing same-sex couples in fics/shows/films and them "talking" (in fics they can't literally talk 😂) about their activities, but I feel that, if I write about it, it wouldn't be right or I'd do justice to these people/characters.

And one last thing: when I write or plan writing smut, I write it in a way that's real; foreplay, laugh, talk about odd things whilst doing it, stopping when they're not into it... I hate when smut in fics is too cliché or is highly based on p*rn.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so, no! And I hope I don't! I need to disable downloads/sharing tabs...

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Again, I don't think so! In fact, it's me sometimes who translates some big parts of my fics from my mother tongue into English!

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I haven't! But that's about to change... 👀

13. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

That's the big, big, biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig question! 🤣 I have shipped many couples over the years and, if you ask me, I still love them even though I don't follow them anymore! For instance, Finchel from Glee, Katniss and Peeta from The Hunger Games, Ron and Hermione from Harry Potter, Gilbert and Anne from Anne of the Green Gables...

Right now, I'm a Kate Sharma (or Kate Sheffield if we talk about the books) & Anthony Bridgerton b*tch. Just a quick peep at my profile can assure you of that! And lately I'm obsessed too with Jily (Harry Potter's parents, for those who don't know lol).

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Sharma's Indian Cuisine. From tradition to your mouth series. I'm stuck on a crucial part in Part 2 and I'm unable to dedicate time to writing lately with all that is coming up in my life. I'll finish it, surely, but not as soon as I wanted.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I seriously have noooooooooooooo idea! I'd say it's the plots. I know they're nothing new under the sun, but they are the kind of stories, but I know they're the kind of stories that don't resemble what we're "tired/bored" of reading (it's not exactly tired or bored the right words, but we all know that plots, as much as we like them, can sometimes make us feel that way!). I don't know how to express this right; please, don't misunderstand it!!!!!

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Same as above. I have no idea, because I'd say all involved in writing! Perhaps, to put into words everything I want to express with my story: the scenery, settings, moods, sometimes the dialogues, concentration/creativeness for developing the plot further... And English. Although I'm fluent in English, I don't always express myself well in the language, and that's reflected in the story.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Planning on doing it in Part 3 of my series! I'm not *fully* fluent in the language I'm planning to write, but I'll be open to corrections if I messed it up heavily once I publish it!

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Anne with an E. I love Anne and Gilbert dearly, and I want to write again about them... But concentration and creativeness are b*tches and I'm laking of ideas. 🤣

I know it's not related to the question, but I'd also like to write about James Potter and Lily Evans/Potter some time!

19. What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

I'd say And... What do I get in return?, Of Rain and Storms series and Bitter Sweet Symphony. I know the question asked for only one, but these three have a special place in my heart.

Feel free to do it yourself! Not tagging anyone! 😅🤗

[cookiedoughmeagain]

Thanks for the tag @halfthealphabet ! Fanfic writer questions ...

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

er, 190 apparently. Not really sure how that happened. There are a few more on the way for the AU-gust challenge :)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

Not including the episode notes; 491,066

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

It’s actually more than I thought: the total list is 16, though almost all of my fics are for Haven. In fact I got curious enough to work it out; literally 90% of them involve Haven.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Wrong Number (Nuke/Threegulls)

Anticipation (Threegulls)

Tell Me You Meant It (Naudrey/Nuke/Threegulls)

I Love the Sound (Nuke)

I Could Stand To See A Little More (Naudrey/Threegulls)

5. What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Definitely ‘Addicted to the feel of her skin’, by a long shot. 110% angst from start to finish.

6. What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Hmmmmm well … maybe ‘Made of Aether and Held Together with Love’ (an alternative version of Dwight and Duke’s final scene). Or I like the ending to the series that begins with ‘I Could Stand To See A Little More’, and also the ending to ‘Tell Me You Meant It’, aaaannndddd the ending to ‘The Three Of Us’ which I just went to re-read and it actually made me cry because it is kind of emotional but in a happy way :)

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you've written?

Yes, I’ve got a few. Not sure about the craziest, maybe The Smuggler and The Big Bad’… Haven and Buffy ... what happens when a vampire drinks Crocker blood full of aether?

8. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yesssss, mostly M/M or M/M/F, mostly Nuke or Threegulls. Almost all of it is Haven. There’s some fluffy stuff, some angsty stuff, some stuff with restraints and planned out games, some where they just jump each other, some getting-together stuff, some established-relationship stuff, some based closely on canon, some in AU settings pretty far from canon, some non-con stuff, some crossovers. I’m currently working on something involving shibari (even though I know nothing about it, so we’ll see how that goes!) Oh and a couple of things in the works for Lost Girl :)

9. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes - it’s lovely to get comments, so it just seems like the natural thing to respond.

10. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No. Mostly due to writing in a small and friendly fandom I think :)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Someone copied and pasted some of my stuff into their fic (without any prior interaction with me). That was a pretty surreal experience reading my exact words in some stranger’s fic. 

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes!!! Amazingly yes! Into Russian!!! Still blows my mind that that happened. The original is here (explicit PWP)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not much, a little bit with @greyhavenisback - ‘Proposal’ (fluffy Nuke fluff :)

14. What's your all time favourite ship?

Nathan/Duke

15. What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Too many. There's a Buffy/Firefly crossover that I’m kind of sad I stalled on. And a Haven/Firefly crossover that I can’t quite seem to get together, even though I know how I want it to end which is usually a fairly solid sign I’ll finish something. And my current ongoing WIP has potential plot spanning at least 27 years so that … is going to keep me busy for a while lol

16. What are your writing strengths?

Well … we’ve established I’ve written a fair amount of smut, so I guess that’s probably on the list. Most of those top-five-by-kudos are pretty smutty ones. And, idk maybe characterisation, dialogue. I think what I’m drawn to most is describing how these characters talk to each other, how they feel about each other, how they react to each other. So sometimes that’s a line of dialogue, sometimes it’s trying to describe the tone of voice or the type of smile or the way one person reaches for another, or the way their breath catches when one of those other things happens. Trying to capture an emotion and pin it down into words on a page. I think that’s a big part of what keeps me writing so hopefully I have some aptitude in it XD I’ve had some really nice comments about specific lines of dialogue being in character :)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Plot. Planning anything out, but specifically any detailed kind of a plot. Like I always have really vague thoughts that it would be cool to do a Haven crossover with something like White Collar or Leverage … but those intricate crimes and cons type of plot lines are really just beyond me.

18. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I don’t have the language skills to do that. It’s not something I’ve come across as a reader.

19. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Haven! I never expected to even read any fanfiction, let alone write anything. Then Duke Crocker and Nathan Wuornos buried their way into my head and here we are ;)

20. What's your favourite fic you've written?

Ooooof, I’m supposed to pick one?

OK Let’s go with Made of Aether and Held Together with Love (an alternative version of Dwight and Duke’s final scene, in 1770 words) because it tackles the one aspect of canon that I really can not get my head around why the writers did that. Like, I’m not saying everything else is perfect but I can kind of let most things go. And I can understand why they might have wanted to write Duke’s ending the way they did … but in that case, guys, you can’t also give Lizzie the ending you did. It doesn’t make any sense; pick one or the other. And there’s no attempt in the show to explain that contradiction; it just feels like they didn’t think it through, which is frustrating.

And I like how that fic worked out and how I can visualise it happening because it would have been so easy for them to actually film it like that - I can almost convince myself it actually happened on screen ;)

Tagging ... anyone who sees this! I think most people I'd tag already have been, but if you see this and you write stuff, give it a go - always interesting to look back over old stuff :)

[ahsoka-lives]

Apprentice Part Two InquisitorCalxReader Soulmate AU

A/N :This plot is a ton of fun to write and a real stress reliever. I hope you all enjoy very much and I always enjoy feedback, I’ve especially loved reading the tags!! gif by @witch​

Warnings: Swear word(s), angst?

Word Count:2k

The transport ship was frigid and humming with electricity. You sat in silence next to a couple of troopers while Kestis was in the cockpit co-piloting. Your hands were still trembling from the adrenaline and every subtle whisper made you flinch.

“We have to stop for fuel sometime, do you think they’ll let us get something to eat?” A trooper asked his partner beside you.

“Our only stop is the hangar, try to find an MRE in there.” His partner grunted without turning to face him.

There was only four of them, you could probably slip past them when the ship landed. You quickly shook that idea out of your head when you remembered that you probably couldn’t outrun Kestis. You had no idea why you were even trying to plot an escape, this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, was it? There was no way for you to know what lies ahead of you with Kestis or with your newly discovered ability and it made you feel restless.

Kestis barely spoke to you before boarding the transport and that didn’t help. You wanted so badly to make him explain what his plans were or what their plans were. From your knowledge, the Empire isn’t exactly friendly to Force-sensitives.

The ship jerked forward as it landed in the massive Imperial hangar. Troopers were at attention surrounding the ship as they awaited the arrival of the Inquisitor on board. Kestis was standing in the doorway of the bay with his helmet secured onto his head. The troopers next to you sprung to their feet and raised their hands to salute him while you watched from your place on the bench.

No way you were saluting anyone.

He strode over to you and gestured for you to stand. His helmet may have shielded his eyes but you could feel his eyes burning into you. Not wanting to show any amount of intimidation, you stared back into the mask with a blank expression.

“Hold out your wrists.” He said plainly through his modulator. You hesitantly raised your wrists up together for only a moment before you saw what was in his hands.

“Why do I need those?” You jerked your hands away from the metal cuffs in his grasp.

“Security has to determine you as non-threatening before you’re permitted to walk around without them. Wrists. Out.” He opened to cuffs expectantly.

“Fine.” You grumbled and allowed him to handcuff your wrists in front of you. The troopers formed a line in front of the main door with space in the back for you and Kestis to stand. One hand gently grabbed your forearm and the other rested on the small of your back. His head lowered slightly to sit near your ear.

“For the record, I don’t think you're threatening to a fly.” He chuckled quietly before straightening out his posture to lead you down the ramp. You had yet to see his face but you were sure there was a smirk on it. 

You stood in awe at how many troopers were ahead of you. They lined up on either side of the ship, perfectly still as you passed. At the end of the line was a man who was dressed in all black. He was dressed in fine clothing that you’d rarely seen on Bracca. He must’ve been a man of power.

“General.” Kestis nodded to the man.

“Master Kestis, well done once again. Take the girl to interrogation, they’re expecting her.” He instructed without even offering you a glance. The grip on your forearm tightened as he led you away from the General and toward the elevators. “And Master Kestis?”

Kestis stopped abruptly and turned his head to meet the General’s eyes. “Yes, General?”

“Congratulations.”

-

The Inquisitor stood on the other side of the two way glass as you laid strapped in the cold metal chair. You were tugging on the restraints and huffing in frustration, your eyes scanned the room for any details that would clue you in on what was to come. He was looking forward to hearing the information they got out of you, there was so much to learn about his newly acquired apprentice. 

“State your name for the record.” The man started while glancing at you.

“Y/n.” You didn’t meet his eyes instead, you were staring straight ahead with that same blank expression.

“Y/n what? I need your full name.” 

“It’s just Y/n. I could give you the name of my adoptive mother but I doubt that would be of use to you.” Your expression faltered and a hint of something came over your face, the Inquisitor took note of this.

“And why is that?” He continued with an eyebrow raised.

“Because she’s dead.” You revealed, your eyes flickered to his quickly before returning straight ahead of you.

The man only nodded in response and typed on his datapad. 

“How long have you been aware of your Force-sensitivity?”

“6 hours maybe, give or take a few.” You sighed and let your head fall back onto the thin cushion. These questions continued on for another 30 minutes, each one more tedious than the last.

“What do you know of the Jedi?” This question left the interrogator with an urgency you didn’t quite understand. It left a thick fog of tension in the room and those behind the glass were feeling it too. 

“I- I only know the Empire outlawed them but I don’t even know what for. Why does any of that matter?” Your eyebrows furrowed and you leaned forward in the chair. 

“We have what we need.” He all but ignored your question before leaving you alone again. You let your body fall back into the chair, you wanted answers too. You screwed your eyes shut and took in a shaky breath, what the fuck were they planning? This is not how you wanted any of this to go. Meeting your soulmate was supposed to be the best moment of your life. It wasn’t supposed to involve government interrogation and helping your soulmate murder someone. Tears started to form at your waterline and you choked back a sob. 

The sound of the door opening again made your eyes fly open, you blink away the tears and look at the Inquisitor standing in front of you. 

“What’s the point of all of this?” You asked in a tired voice. 

He stood there motionless for far longer than you would have liked. You opened your mouth to ask him to say anything, to do anything but stopped short when his hands hesitantly lifted the armor from his head and finally revealed his face to you. 

He had a small smile on his pink lips. Red hair flopped back with a few loose strands falling over his pale face. There were a few scars that had completely healed on his face but he looked far too young to have as many as he did. ‘Good looking’ was an understatement and you took a mental note to thank the maker that he didn’t look like a monster under that helmet. 

“You did well, Y/n.” His now unfiltered voice praised. “You won’t need the cuffs on our way out.” 

“You mind taking these ones off?” You asked and tugged lightly on the restraints.

He only nodded before kneeling down on one knee in front of you. He removed the ankle restraints first before making quick work of the ones on your wrists, it was obviously not his first time. Once freed, your wrist was quickly taken in his hand, his eyes taking in the words on your skin, his words. His thumb rubbed over it gently and the smirk on his lips persisted. Your chemical compatibility made this comforting but the reality of the situation put you on edge.

“Kestis?” You broke the silence first. 

“Cal, you call me Cal.” He cleared his throat and took a step back to give you room to stand. 

“Why did he ask those things, Cal?” You were almost afraid to ask and your fear was reflected in your eyes. Cal recognized that fear, he’d seen it a thousand times in other eyes.

“To find out who’s side you’re on, which I told them was unnecessary because of our relation.” He explained simply. “It was also to determine if you’re in need of conditioning.”

His blatant arrogance and confidence in your loyalty while impressive was not unfounded. Every minute spent next to your soulmate strengthened the bond between one another. Soon being separated would have negative effects on them in many ways and there was nothing either of them could do to prevent it.  Your upbringing didn’t allow such insight but Cal was more than aware of this, he was even looking forward to it. 

“Conditioning? For what?” Your voice was panicked and you took a step away from him.

“It’s common practice for when we get any new recruits but you’re not just a recruit. You’ll be my apprentice, y/n.” His words were sinking deep into your skin and your brain felt like it was taking in too much at once. “I’m going to teach you how to properly wield the Force. You showed real promise with the strength you exhibited on that boy. In fact, if you hadn’t scared yourself off I’m sure you could’ve brought him to the ground.”

“I could have saved him?” You murmured with disbelief washing over you. 

“Save him? Gods no, he was dead the second he decided to play savior.” He assured and secured the helmet in his hands.

“What did he do to get a death sentence?” You weren’t sure why you were pushing the subject but Cal seemed to find it funny. He chuckled lightly and ran his fingers through his hair, the helmet was put back onto the table. His eyes scanned your face with an unclear intent and his legs moved to close the distance between you. 

Your breath caught in your throat as he towered over you with a suspiciously gentle smile. His hands cupped either side of your face tenderly and your hands reflexively gripped his forearms, the contact brought a strange sense of relief to your tense body. 

“All of this will make sense soon, I’ll show you, I’ll teach you.” His thumb gently swiped over your cheekbone as you fought the desire to close your eyes and melt into his warmth. “But if you keep talking like that, I’ll put you through conditioning myself, sweetheart.”

-

“Transport is here to take us up to the ship, Sir” The trooper reported to Cal who nodded in response. His helmet had returned to his head as did his intimidating demeanor.

“Come on, the sooner we get up there, the sooner you can get some rest.” His distorted voice instructed and an arm extended to lead the way. You walked side by side, your poncho enveloped you making you feel shielded from the onlookers.

They probably wanted to know why someone in Cal’s position was hanging around some scapper from the yards of Bracca. You felt the distaste for their eyes on you growing the more bold their chatter got and Cal could feel it. Part of him wanted to tell you to cool off, some of these people were your superior officers now but, the other part of him knew that if he was right about you, they wouldn’t be your superiors for long. He knew that the Force gave you to him for a reason.

“That anger you feel, I felt it when I first came into the ranks, too.” He said in a hushed tone. “If you play your cards right, they’ll be bowing to you in no time.”

The hair on the back of your neck stood up at his words. You weren’t sure if it was excitement or fear of the idea. How could you know? After spending your entire life in one spot, you didn’t know what you wanted besides the obvious.

“I’m not sure I want them to bow, just have some respect for me.” You sigh and step onto the wide platform of the transport ship.

“You might not think that now, y/n...” His masked face was mere inches from yours as he spoke. “...once you get a taste for this life and the power that come with it, you’ll never have enough.”

You wanted to deny it and tell him that power wasn’t something you wanted. And this was partially true, power isn’t something you craved but a small part of you recognized that you couldn’t dismiss the notion entirely. Was he pushing you down a path you didn’t want for yourself? You’ve spent your life waiting for your prince charming to come and sweep you off your feet and take you away from Bracca. It was going to take a lot more for you to run away from him now. 

[schrijverr]

Made for two

When they get stuck in a fox-hole Jonny gets slightly too comfortable between Bertie and Tim, who decide to tell him how much he means to them when he freaks out about letting himself get affection.

On AO3.

Ships: Tim x Bertie x Jonny

warnings: Jonnys low self esteem and mentions of war. Tell me if I missed anything or if you want me to tag something!

~~~~~~~~~

Jonny skidded into a fox-hole, Tim hot on his trail while Bertie held up the lead-sheet. This wasn’t an unusual situation to find themselves in, but what was different was that The Toy Soldier wasn’t there and that Bertie and Tim weren’t next to each other, instead sandwiching Jonny between the two of them.

This was a fact Jonny became aware of the moment the lead-sheet was lowered above them. His eyes flitted between Berties chest in front of him and the sheet above him as he cursed.

“What’s wrong?” Bertie asked concerned as he heard the swears.

Blushing Jonny said: “Nothing, nothing, just a tight fit.”

And that wasn’t a lie, the fox-hole wasn’t made for this many people and was smaller than the one they normally occupied back when TS was still with them, but it was mostly that Jonny felt awkward he had gotten between Bertie and Tim.

Bertie and Tim were always near each other and touching, it was clear how much they loved one another and now he was trapped between them in a small hot space without The Toy Soldier as barrier.

Don’t get Jonny wrong, he didn’t not want to be here, actually he would like nothing less then the comfort and closeness Bertie and Tim could give him, but he didn’t want to intrude on them or impose his own need for affection on them.

It had gotten a bit quiet after his reply, but there was a bit of shuffling, then Tim said: “I don’t think I can get backwards, this is made for two, sorry.”

“‘S alright. I don’t mind that much.” Jonny tried to backtrack, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll live.”

“Are you sure?” Bertie checked.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine.” Jonny waved his concern away.

He felt how the two others had shuffled away to press themselves into the wall as much as possible to give him as much space as possible. He was now able move a bit and the space immediately felt to big and cold, despite the cramped heat that was the reality.

Above them the alarms still blared but in the fox-hole it was silent. Jonny was well aware of how uncomfortable he had probably made the other two and was wracking his brain for something to say to make it right, but nothing came through the insults directed at himself.

With his thoughts somewhere else Jonny didn’t notice his rifle slipping of his shoulder, so when it suddenly dropped to the floor he yelped slightly and jumped, making him fall into Berties chest.

Before he could apologize Tim had a hand over his mouth and hissed: “Shush, I think I hear someone.”

The three of them froze as they listened. For a moment nothing happened, then they heard a gurgle and the sounds of someone sizzling. Berties eyes grew wide and he said: “Someone’s dying out there.”

“And we’re not helping them, love.” Tim told him with a stern look, moving his hand from Jonnys mouth to Berties shoulder as he looked him in the eye, “Whoever it is, they’re dead now, we are not risking it.”

Bertie looked up for a second, then relented. He put his hand on Tims and agreed: “Okay, we’ll stay.”

During the conversation they had all but forgotten about Jonny, who wasn’t going to point this out to them, instead focusing on how much taller the two were, a detail he hadn’t really noticed until they were literally talking over his head.

However, Bertie did notice, which in turn made Tim notice, making them both shuffle back with an apology.

Jonny missed them instantly and snapped: “For fucks sake, I don’t think you got an illness, we’re gonna be here for a while, please just stand normally, Jesus fuck.”

It was silent for a moment. Jonny was just about to start worrying if he’d said something wrong when Tim commented: “I don’t think fuck was his last name, but I never really paid attention in Sunday school.”

Bertie and Jonny laughed at that as everyone relaxed slightly as they waited for the minutes to tick by. It took a surprisingly long time to cook someone in a microwave and the Lunar Men never took chances, so microwave attacks could take a while.

So they just stood in their fox-hole and waited.

If The Toy Soldier were here, Jonny would be annoying it while Tim and Bertie held each other and whispered lowly.

Jonny missed that, missed TS cheerfully obliging him in reshaping its mustache or not minding him fiddling with the buttons on its uniform.

Now that he thought about it, he missed the others too. He might have enlisted on his own, but that was because there was nothing better to do on the stupid planet he had been dumped on as punishment.

He hoped the other were okay, he hoped Ashes was protecting Nastya like they’d promised and Brian wasn’t letting the loneliness of the cockpit get to him and that Ivy wasn’t letting herself get lost between her books. He even hoped The Toy Soldier was having fun on the other side.

All these emotions hit him when he looked up and saw Bertie staring lovingly at Tim, who was most likely behind him staring back.

Here he was, in a random solar system, on a random moon, in a tiny fox-hole all by himself keeping two people from getting a bit of comfort. He always ruined relations between people, that’s why he had been dumped there, apparently plotting against the captain was mutiny and unacceptable.

The sadness of it all was almost funny.

His knees buckled slightly beneath him and he could hear himself make a noise that could be interpreted as both a laugh and a sob.

Meeting Berties chest with his forehead, the other asked: “Jonny? Jonny, are you alright?”

Jonny leaned for a moment, then sighed: “I’m fine, I’m fucking fabulous.”

He was sure Tim was about to make a smart-ass comment about that when the alarms cut out, signaling the attack was over.

“Oh thank fuck.” Jonny released a breath as he started to climb out of the fox-hole, but before he could get far, he was tugged back down by Tim, who returned his hand over Jonnys mouth as he shushed him and whispered about a fast infantry attack right after a few days back.

Tim was about to loose a finger to Jonnys teeth when they heard footsteps and rifles firing. Bertie and Tims hearts beat in their throats as they silently waited for the footsteps and fighting to go away, so that they would be safe.

They tensed up at the footsteps directly above them and prayed the Lunar Men wouldn’t notice the slight change in sound when they hit the lead-sheet.

Unconsciously Tim had started inching closer to Bertie, taking Jonny with him. With the extra weight above them, a bit of the wall crumbled, making Tim come forward even more.

Jonny was now really pressed tightly between the two. Tims hand was still over his mouth, while his other arm was around Jonnys waist from where he had put it to keep Jonny from leaving the fox-hole. Bertie meanwhile had wrapped his left arm protectively around Tim, squishing Jonny into his chest, as his right aimed his rifle up, ready to fire.

The seconds seemed to pass like hours, but soon the footsteps walked on and after that the rest of the noises ceased as well.

Three pairs shoulders released the tension in them, well, two pairs of shoulders, Jonny was already quite relaxed. He was practically held upright by the two other and he’d gone boneless in the unfamiliar comforting warmth, beneath his ear he could hear Berties heart beating steadily and there was no place he’d rather be right now.

With the immediate danger gone Bertie and Tim now seemed to notice the limp form of Jonny in their arms. They looked down, faces full of concern that Jonny had accidentally gotten killed, but instead found him peacefully leaning against them with his eyes closed.

For a moment neither knew how to proceed. They had never seen Jonny so relaxed and it felt wrong to take that from him.

They shared a look, before they looked back down again as Jonny rubbed his face into Berties chest and sagged even further into them. Softly Bertie said: “Hey there, buddy. Are you awake?”

Jonny frowned slightly at that and mumbled: “Jus’ a littl’onger.”

So apparently Jonny was on the edge of coherency, if Bertie and Tim had to guess it was the nights of staying up to keep watch, not trusting the others to do it, catching up on him as well as a general lack of affection they had observed in him.

If it were a day off in camp when this had happened, they wouldn't hesitate to keep Jonny close and deal with the fall out later if he didn’t return their feelings, but they were in an active war zone right now.

“Jonny, I’m sorry, but I’m afraid that’s not possible right now.” Bertie nudged him again, making him pout.

“Wake up, you fucking donut, we don’t have time for this right now. Can I tempt you with hugs if we survive today?” Tim shook him a bit.

That worked slightly better as Jonny frowned, then blinked blearily, before his eyes snapped open and he tumbled backwards from Berties chest into Tims. He quickly apologized: “Oh my god, I don’t know what happened there, uhm, yeah, so that’s awkward, let’s forget that ever hap-”

“Jonny.” Tim interrupted him, “It’s alright.”

“But I-”

“Just let it be, it’s fine. How about we get out of here and we’ll talk when were safe, because I don’t know about you, but I rather not get trapped in here again.” Tim said.

“Uh, I- okay?” Jonny finally agreed, cheeks bright red.

“Good.” Bertie smiled, before giving him a boost out of the fox-hole, after which he climbed out as well and pulled Tim up.

Jonny was still blushing and pointedly not looking at Bertie or Tim as they made their way back to camp, hoping to catch the Lunar Men between them and rest by surprise on the way there.

Luck was on their side and they, not swiftly but close enough, got rid of the Lunar Men that had walked over them previously. It was a short and violent battle and afterwards Jonny seemed more like himself.

They arrived in camp bloody and to the surprise of everyone, who had assumed they’d died out there with the rest.

After they had collected their rations, Jonny tried to sneak away unnoticed, but when you’re 5ft of concentrated drama that is quite hard and Tim and Bertie easily steered him to their usual hangout spot.

By the time they got there Jonny was quieter and he let himself be pushed down onto the ground, which he started to inspect in detail, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

Bertie sighed, then said: “Jonny…”

Apparently that was enough for whatever had been brewing inside him to burst out: “I’m sorry about what happened back there, I don’t even know why I did that. It was weird and I didn’t mean to do it, so don’t be mad. I won’t do it again, I promise that I won’t.”

They’d gotten a bit overwhelmed by the sudden stream of words, but now they’d gathered their bearings a bit and Bertie quickly said: “Jonny stop, stop, it’s okay, just take a breath.”

Jonny did just that, falling silent for just a moment, a moment that Tim quickly took to assure him: “We didn’t mind, Jonny, I don’t know what your brain is telling you, but it was fine.”

He and Bertie sat down on either side of Jonny. Jonny was tense and poised to leave, but he didn’t seem so stressed anymore, just uncertain.

It was quiet for a moment, then he asked: “Why?”

“What?” Bertie asked.

“Why are you two not super mad at me right now? I got between you two, literally, was annoying about it and then almost fell asleep like some sort of crazy person while we were supposed to be alert and ready and I just didn’t do all that. So why aren’t you mad at me?” Jonny was sounding very confused, a few tears beginning to form.

It broke their heart to see Jonny so confused and upset about them wanting him around. Bertie started to move, but halted the action and asked: “Can I touch you right now?”

Jonnys brow furrowed in confusion, but he nodded, which was enough for Bertie who wrapped an arm around him and said: “We’re not mad at you, because we would like nothing more than to see you comfortable and relaxed for a moment. We want to do that for you.”

Beside him Tim nodded and leaned into Jonnys space as well, making him as comfortable as possible while Jonny thought about that.

He was silent, then he softly asked: “Why would you want to do that? You already have each other and I’m just annoying.”

Bertie and Tim shared a glance, a silent agreement to beat the shit out of everyone who had made Jonny feel like that, before they focused back on the task at hand.

“Because we care about you. It might seem hard to believe in your eyes, but you are so worthy of that, sweetheart.” Tim had always been one for petnames.

“Yeah, we might love each other, but we love you too.” Bertie continued Tims starting point, “You are so soft looking and cute that I just want to wrap you into a hug and never let go and kiss you and tell you it’s all gonna be alright.”

Jonnys face now resembled a neon light with how much he was blushing as he ducked into himself slightly, soaking in their embrace while he processed that all.

Then, so soft it was almost inaudible, Jonny whispered: “I’d like that even if I can’t believe it.”

Immediately they brightened up, they had known Jonny might be insecure or even not into the whole thing, so this was a good outcome all things considered. Tim wasted no time situating Jonny between his legs, so that he could lean against his chest, while Bertie sat in front of him carefully feeding him his rations.

For a moment it seemed Jonny was going to protest against it, but Tim had wrapped his arms around him, pinning his own slightly, so he had relented and by the end his eyes were almost slipping close as he calmly accepted spoonfuls of food.

When the food was gone, Bertie helped Tim and Jonny lay on their side in the tent. The day had already been long and unpleasant and here in the middle of base camp they were at least safe enough to rest peacefully.

Tim spooned Jonny from behind and Bertie embraced him from the front, peppering his face with little pecks that made Jonny giggle. Yes, honest to god giggle, it seemed like either he was too tired to fight it or high on affection, but that didn’t stop Bertie and Tim from fawning over him until he cracked open one eye and grumbled a bit, only earning him more coos.

Jonny looked like he belonged there, his face was slack, making him look more youthful, and his limbs were warm and pliant in their arms as he hummed contently at the snuggles. Tim behind him fit too as he gently kissed the top of Jonnys head and held him tightly. Like he was made for the two of them.

Bertie admired them for a moment, then he squeezed both his boys tightly and promised: “I’m gonna make sure neither of you forget how loved you are.”

A promise he never got to keep.

[intrepidmare]

MARE'S RECAPS ~ THE MANDALORIAN: CHAPTER 9 "THE MARSHALL"

Oh wow! It's been a while since I've done something like this. Last year, I caught up with season 1 about 2 days before the finale, so I didn't have the opportunity to write reviews/recaps. This season, though, I'm going to 😀 so here it is the first one! 

For the folks that haven't seen the premiere and don't want spoilers, scroll past this, fast and furious, because it's full of them. If you want to blacklist tags to avoid spoilers from me, I suggest that you add #mando spoilers, #the mandalorian season 2 spoilers, and #mare's mando recaps to the list.

I've seen the episode a few times (yeah, I'm that obsessed with the show) so some of my reactions are more visceral than others since I was too excited the few first times I watched it and I missed a lot of details (another reason to rewatch the episode more than once). This recap is loooooong, which is an indication of how amazing it was.

So this my final warning to those avoiding spoilers. Stop reading, right now. The rest of you… enjoy and let me know if you share some of my opinions. I'm always open to chat 😊

Chapter 9 ~ The Marshall

So it begins! It's so exciting!

I knew that Mando and baby Yoda walking in the street at night was going to be the opening scene. I started to think about it after watching the second trailer, and I'm glad that I was right.

It turns out that the red-eyed creatures were not jawas as I saw some people saying.

Baby Yoda was not happy with the little excursion to the fighting arena. Not walking on the streets nor inside watching the fight. I still laughed when he locked himself up in the pram, even if I've watched the trailer like a gazillion times by now and I knew he was going to do it.

And talking about the baby, he's getting more vocal I think. He's making a few new noises, whimpering more, which I'm not sure if it's a good or bad thing. That he complains more means that he feels safe with his buir and isn't afraid of retaliation for it as he probably was with others in the past and the reason he didn't cry much in season 1. But it breaks my heart that he is stressed. And that child is anxious, I can tell you that much.

The fight with Gor Koresh's thugs was awesome! The gamorrean flying to squash Mando and failing had me cracking up. And omg! Din'd moves! Using his helmet as a weapon and throwing his vibroblade. And leaving Gor Koresh to be eaten! Man of his word, he didn't kill the guy.

On a side note, I would've never guessed it was John Leguizamo who gave voice to Koresh until I saw the credits. Of all the actors who could play the part, I never thought of him.

Umm, I'm curious about the time Mando has spent in Tatooine, which according to him it's been a lot and it makes sense since he knows so much about the Tuskens, their language and culture. I'm guessing he spent a while among them. He had to learn all that somehow. 

When I speculated that Mando was going back to Tatooine after watching the trailers, I said that I was going to riot if he didn't visit his favorite mechanic. Thankfully, I didn't need to worry. I loved Peli in episode 5 of season 1 and I loved her even more now remarking on Din's dislike of droids and trying to keep the baby for herself. Not to mention she complaining about not getting good help these days 🤣

And I ADORE the (improvised?) Birikad Din got for the baby. Of course, the baby is safer in the pram, right (guessing that's why he used it when he met Gor Koresh), but there's something sweet watching him carrying his son so close to him.

And I tell you, Mando has been spending credits lately in baby stuff. I mean, he got a new pram (which I initially thought it was the original that he had somehow retrieved from the garbage in Nevarro, but no, it's not the same, and neither it's the one that Kuiil made) and he also got the bag/birikad thing, which looks brand-new. I wonder what else he bought.

Watching the droids doing maintenance of the Razor Crest makes me think it's all for nothing, knowing that in a few episodes (it might be even in the next one) Mando is going to crash the ship. More than once perhaps.

😆 The baby still loves speed! I think riding on the speeder bike was the only moment that he truly enjoyed in this episode. Look at that happy face 

When they arrived at Mos Pelgo and Din went into the cantina, leaving the baby outside, I was like: Din! That's not responsible. How can you leave your son out in the inclement sun, alone! Then baby Yoda peeked in and I went: never mind. I take back what I said.

Oooh. Cobb Vanth! I love him! For a moment, I thought it could actually be Boba but it seemed illogical and that's what Mr. Feloni and Mr. Favreau wanted us to think. I was correct.

My gawd! Din's shock when Vanth took the helmet off. I just knew he would freak out the moment Cobb asked for drinks and I said to drink they need to remove their helmets and Mando is going to lose it when this guy does. And the standoff! Was so good! "Take it off or I will" is going to become a quite popular phrase in fics from now on, not in the same context, but yeah…

The krayt dragon… oh shit! Or rather Dank farrik! We can't see Mando's face or expression but I can imagine which one was when he saw the dragon eating the bantha the first time.

Oh my goodness. The baby hiding in the pot! Too adorable! 

I know every hardcore SW fan lost it watching Vanth modified speeder because is a callback to the Phantom Menace and Anakin but my first thought was: is he compensating for something? Sorry, I couldn't help it 

The dog-lizard creatures were kinda scary at first but then became adorable. Almost as much as baby Yoda getting out of hiding

Baby Yoda doesn't like dog-lizards things. He looked afraid to be eaten I think. Poor little guy.

And look at that! Din showing such growth! To think he was the one incensing others in negotiation 😆 this is a total callback to the jawas in Arvala-7. And I gotta tell you, Din freaking loves his flamethrower. He doesn't waste the opportunity to use it.

The krayt dragon eating the Tusken raider instead of the bantha was quite of a plot twist 😆

When they were planning the attack on the dragon, Cobb Vanth's face when Din told him that the bones and pebbles were to scale, and then when he had volunteered the villagers to help… priceless! 

I like the fact of banding together with others for a greater good, relying on others to accomplish something is going to continue being the theme of this season. It started last season but I think it's going to be stronger this time around along all of the episodes.

😳😲😳😲 this thing vomits acid?! What. The. FUCK?!!!

Cobb: I don't think it's dead

Mando: me neither

Me, at the same time as Din: yeah, nope it's not dead

Oh yeah! Teaming up with jetpacks!

When they showed the bantha with the remaining explosives my first thought was why didn't they use all those before?! That's why they didn't kill it!! Of course, it was just an excuse to grant Din a more grand win in the end, but you know, it's stupid not to use everything you have to kill the monster on the first try. Just saying

Wait, what? Din! What are you going to do? No! Taking care of the child is your responsibility, not Cobb Vanth's! I hate this plan of yours, Din Djarin!! Whichever it is!

Oh! Nice callback to the flaw on that jetpack. But makes me wonder, do all the rising Phoenixes have the same flaw? Cuz unless Din knows Boba in person and that it's his armor with that particular flaw, it means it's a common problem for all and I don't like it.

Get away, Din! Get away, Din!! FLY AWAY!! AAAAAAAHHHHHH! NOOOOOO! 

There he is! Damn, Mando! Don't scare me like that! Altho, it was a nice move.

Okay, but now I want someone to explain something to me. If the dragon's acid melted people at contact before, how the hell is Din so whole? I mean, sure for argument' sake let's say his beskar armor provides some protection, but he's not entirely covered in it. His cape and undersuit seem just fine, albeit sticky. Where's the logic in that?

The tuskens getting the pearl reminded me of the jawas and the mudhorn's egg, chanting zukka, zukka (or however egg is spelled in Jawa).

That's quite a piece of meat. The baby is going to be happy eating off it for days🤣

😮😮😳😳 BOBA FETT!!!!! Yesssssss!!

Okay, I've seen other people's thoughts and some think that Boba was after Cobb Vanth because he had the armor, but I don't know. If that was true then why he hadn't gone to Mos Pelgo and got it? It seems to me that it's more likely that Boba is following Din somehow because it's the second time in as many Mando's visits to the planet that they sort of cross paths. Could they know each other? Have some score to settle? It's possible. Din has spent much time on Tatooine -his words, not mine- so it wouldn't be so out of consideration that they actually know each other. That if Mando knows Boba is (fake?) Mando, I don't know. Probably not, but who knows?

Extra thoughts

I gotta say that Ludwig Göransson is killing it with the score music! Oh. My. God! So so so so good! I could tell from the trailers that it was going to be awesome this season but it astounded me in chapter 9. Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous! My favorite piece is when they're going to the dragon's cave to kill it. The orchestral sound of the already familiar music blew my mind!

[sketchy-saram]

Hello! This is Chapter 2 of a Kiwren (Kiran/Wren) story I wrote a while back, although you can find it in their tag if you want to read part one! For anyone who is new, Kiran is @lazyvoyager​‘s fan kid of Illain and Muriel, and Wren is the adopted kid of my Celeste and Julian.

Summary: After seeing her crush with someone else, Wren goes to drink her sorrows away at the Rowdy Raven...after hatching a plot to leave Vesuvia, fate has other plans, and she is rescued just in time to throw up on her rescuer and pass out. xD

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KIWREN CHAPTER 2

     Wren stood in the middle of a beautiful meadow. Dappled sunlight shone through the cherry blossom trees, petals gently floating down to the ground and forming a pillowy, light-pink carpet under her feet. She was barefoot--oh, no, she was actually wearing extremely cute slippers, with ribbons that tied up the length of her calves, meeting with the frothy hem of her skirt. It was a dress she had been toying with, beautifully tailored, and now she was wearing it here--wherever here was--and the scene was absolutely perfect. She reached for her braid, only to realize her hair was already loose and in gorgeous honey-amber waves, and had grown a foot or two as well, adorned with a cherry-blossom crown at the top.

     Everything was adorable and elegant, and the warm glow she felt wasn’t only from the sun, especially when she glanced across the field and saw the love of her life standing there. He was tall and svelte; that scar across his face adding such character; the dark lines of the tattoo on his chest just peeking out from underneath a billowing white linen shirt. The sight of it had Wren feeling weak in the knees; her stomach trembled, her heart fluttered.

     Giddy, she began to run through the petals towards him, in what felt like slow-motion...or, maybe she was running in slow motion? Weird...and he turned to look at her fully, a smile spreading across his face, his arms opening wide in preparation for her. Any confusion she felt was forgotten. 

     Perfect.

     And then there was the oddest sensation of falling. A sudden drop. Everything around her darkened to the black of deadest night. She was barely able to catch herself...except, wait, she hadn’t caught herself at all. She was in a firm grip, surrounded by muscle. Her stomach pitched; this time uncomfortably. Wren’s eyes wildly rolled, trying to find where he had gone...only to see him, walking away, his arm around a beautiful woman with curves everywhere and ever-expanding breasts…

     With a jolt, Wren sat up in bed, sweat covering her face and neck, what was left in her stomach threatening to come up. With a heroic amount of effort, she choked it back down, although it was touch-and-go for a few seconds. When at last she could open her eyes without the room spinning, it was with no small amount of consternation.

     While she was pretty sure she was no longer dreaming, this was not  the room she remembered. It wasn’t her room, and, she was fairly certain, it wasn’t ANY room in her house. She wasn’t even sure it was a room, if she was being honest. Was that...a tree root? Was this house built into a tree? Was that sanitary? Didn’t bugs live in trees? Squirrels? Birds? 

     Were there birds in this house??

     Her mind whirled, and she had to press her hand to her mouth again and stop all thought in order not to be sick. The strange musty smell surrounding her didn’t help, and when she looked down at the blanket that had pooled around her waist, she realized it was some sort of pelt. 

     Opening one eye, she tried again to take stock of where she was, and to remember what had happened. Why couldn’t she remember? What did she do last night??

     And then the last part of the dream flashed before her eyes in stark relief. 

     Oh. That’s right. That part...wasn’t a dream. Well, the enormous breasts part might have been, but the rest wasn’t. Her chest seized in pain before she could stop herself from thinking about it. She didn’t want to think about it, and luckily for her, there were other pressing matters to focus on. Wren could recall walking through town, dwelling on her misery, and then…

     She groaned.

     The Raven.

     Yes, that was where it had all gone south, so to speak. She had a vague recollection of leaving, and something about her sketchbook…?

     Ugh. Her mouth was like cotton, every part of her face felt puffy and blotchy from yesterday’s crying, and she desperately wanted to curl under a blanket that wasn’t made from animals and pretend not to exist for at least a day. Maybe a couple months. If she could, she would hibernate this whole heartache away. But, it seemed, that was never going to be her luck, so instead, she had to figure out what to do next.

     Gingerly, Wren threw back the rest of the hide with her forefinger and thumb, revealing with relief that she was still wearing everything from the day before...with a few new, dubious stains. She added fresh clothes and a shower to the list of things she would have killed for right about then. Instead, she got her feet planted on the roughly-hewn wooden floor, just about ready to try standing…

     When the door of the hut? room? crashed open to reveal one of the biggest men she’d ever seen.

     Reflexively, she grabbed the hide again, yanking it up to her chin to cover herself despite being fully clothed. The stranger didn’t seem to notice as he looked towards her, his face a mess of freckles and beaming smile in dark, sun-tanned skin. The visage looked vaguely familiar, but the pounding of her heart stopped Wren’s mind from being able to place it. 

     “You’re awake!” he said, voice booming cheerfully around the homely abode. It was not as deep as she might have expected from someone so...well...built. “I wasn’t sure what we were going to do with you if you didn’t wake up, honestly.”

     That statement had the hairs on Wren’s neck bristling, and instead of staring at this newcomer, she remembered that all else aside, she was in a dangerous situation. A woman, alone with an extremely burly man, in a strange place, unsure of what was happening. 

     Well, she wasn’t going to go down without a fight, that was for sure.

     She screamed, and the sound seemed to have the desired effect--the stranger froze, and it gave her enough time to scramble up, her entire attention only on reaching the door he’d left open in his wake. She could see the outside through it--if she got there, she was free.

      “Wait!” The man’s face was creased in confusion, and his eyebrows rose almost comically. In fact, watching the series of expressions was almost interesting--Wren had never seen someone with such an openly expressive face. Every thought seemed to cross its deep-set, rugged expanse.

     Is he simple? Wren thought. She didn’t know if that would help or hurt her situation. So far, nothing seemed to have happened to her, but she didn’t want to stay any longer than necessary to find out. Glancing to her side, she saw she was next to a low-banked fireplace...and right by her hand was a cast-iron skillet. Grabbing it, she held it out in front of her like a sword.

     To her surprise, the man actually took a step back, his green eyes widening.

     “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m leaving. Don’t follow me.” 

     Slowly, she crept her way along the floor, her eyes firmly held on the stranger, whose face was now comically torn between concern and confusion.

     “Listen, I didn’t mean--”

     “Nope. Don’t say anything.”

     “But I--”

     “Shoosh.”

     “You really should just--”

     “You have the wrong girl, buddy.”

     At last, Wren reached the door he had come in through, and risking a look back at it, saw that it wasn’t locked. She brandished the skillet at him once more, then tossed it on a nearby table and swiftly turned, slipping through as quickly as her still-wobbly legs would carry her.

     Finally! Freedom!

     Outside, bright noon-time sun was filtered through a thick layer of forest vegetation, and Wren realized with a start that she was in the middle of the woods. Her stomach, still in a bad way, tied itself into further knots. She could be almost anywhere, although the Dark Forest seemed the most likely answer. Now, from outside the hut, she could see that it was indeed built into the roots of the nearby trees, and a newer addition looked like it had been added onto the original one-room home haphazardly. Maybe by magic? It honestly did not look architecturally sound.

     Here in the yard there seemed to be a host of various animals roaming, cultivated in a miniature forest farm--chickens pecked the ground around Wren’s feet, and she had to jump back to avoid one that was aiming for her toes.

     Now even chickens are trying to get me? Could I catch a break for one freaking second?!

     Wren sucked in a deep breath, trying to center herself, her eyes nervously trained on the door. She could vaguely tell which way the sun had risen from, which meant she knew which way Vesuvia was. You didn’t learn nothing about wayfinding growing up on a ship, after all. Her house sat beyond the Vesuvian walls to the west of South End, which was the complete opposite of town from the Dark Forest. Great. She was tired before she even started, but with a groan, Wren set off into the woods.

     She hated the woods. They were full of bugs and dirt and rocks and...nature. Honestly, nothing good came out of the woods, of that she was sure. Still, the fresh air was nice for her queasy hangover stomach, and it seemed to jog awake her half-asleep brain at last as the adrenaline faded away. She had time to think about that man, who had seemed vaguely familiar, although she was sure they’d never met before…

     And then something from her dream-that-wasn’t-a-dream dawned on her. Falling, and strong arms catching her like a doll from thin air. It certainly could have been him...he looked like he probably snapped tree trunks over his knees for fun. Arms strapped with muscle every which-way. At the time, trapped in a room with him, that had been unsettling, but now…

     Wren coughed, shaking away the thought. His outfit, on the other hand, was an absolute tragedy. With that build, she thought, there were a few styles she could imagine that would better suit--

     My sketchbook! 

     With absolute horror, Wren realized she no longer had possession of her sketches, even as her hands patted her down to be sure. Had they been left behind in South End? Or were they… She turned to look back over her shoulder, where the hut had already vanished, but a faint puff of smoke from the chimney still gave away its location. 

     I can’t go back there for my sketchbook. That’s crazy. That man could be an axe-murderer you surprised before he had time to murder you.

     But...that book had all of my most recent designs. A month of work, gone. I’ll never remember all the details exactly as they were. I don’t want to have to start them from scratch again…

     After a brief mental struggle, Wren finally turned on her heels with a sigh, begrudgingly headed back in the direction she came.

     There was still no sign of anyone when Wren quietly snuck back into the clearing, chewing her thumbnail as she thought about how to proceed. The man hadn’t actually done anything to her...maybe if she just...asked him about the sketchbook, he would answer her? It was so crazy, it just might work. So, sucking up her courage and trying to pull her flyaway mane of hair from her face, Wren stomped across the grounds and back to the door of the hut.

     Just as she was wondering whether or not to knock, it swung open, revealing the stranger again. They blinked at each other, unsure who was the more surprised.

     “You!” he began, obvious surprise in his tone. It was startlingly loud--did he ever just say anything without shouting?

Wren glanced around, wishing she had brought the skillet with her. Instead, she bent down and grabbed the best thing she could find--which happened to be a nearby roosting chicken, who clucked indignantly in her grasp.

     It was probably a poor choice of weapon, she thought, but hoped it might at least stop him from attacking her outright. What she hadn’t expected was this tree-trunk of a man to suddenly look so panicked and fretful.

     “Wait wait! Just...wait!”

     “You. I don’t know who you are, or what I’m doing here, but if you don’t want this...chicken...harmed…”

     “No, not Mr. Cluckers!”

     “...” Wren blinked, then shook her head. “...Yes, if you don’t want Mr. Cluckers harmed, then listen to me and answer my question. Do you have my sketchbook?!”

     “Your what? Be careful with her, she’s old!”

     Mr. Cluckers let out another string of cries from under Wren’s arm.

     “Why did you name your chicken Mr. Cluckers if it’s a girl chicken??”

     “We never name them, my dad does!”

     “That’s not--okay, whatever, that doesn’t matter. My sketchbook! Do you have it?”

     The man stood with his arms raised, large hands that looked like they were more callous than skin, and Wren couldn’t help being struck by the absurdity of this situation. He was actually, really and truly scared for the chicken, and it was beginning to make her feel bad as he struggled to think around his fear.

     “I...maybe? Was that all those papers you had? Yeah, I have them in the house! I made you breakfast! Can we just...could we talk about this?”

     After a tense moment where Wren looked between the man and Mr. Cluckers, she finally let out a huge sigh, holding the chicken in both hands and tossing it out into the yard, where it flapped its wings and came to an awkward landing amongst its fellows. Visibly, the large stranger relaxed, wiping the sweat off his forehead and running a hand over his short brown hair.

     “Fine. Talk.” Wren ground out grumpily.

     He opened his mouth. Instead, an extremely loud grumble practically rattled the leaves on the trees around them, and Wren felt her face flame as she realized the sound had come from her stomach. She closed her eyes and grimaced. Was there a chance that the Dark Forest would swallow her whole? At this point, she wasn’t even sure why she was worried about what this man might do to her--her entire life was nothing but a string of misery and embarrassment, anyway.

     When she opened her eyes, to her surprise, he was grinning, and it made him seem more youthful, somehow. In fact, despite his hulking size, she would have almost wagered he wasn’t too much older than her--maybe Felix’s age.

     “Are you sure you don’t want to come in? I made eggs,” he said, gesturing towards the door and holding it open.

With a flick of her messy braid and a loud ‘harrumph’, Wren stomped past him and entered the hut again, avoiding his mirthful eyes.

Well, she was hungry, anyway. A few more minutes couldn’t hurt.

[fallenrepublick]

Uh hi XD this is my first time asking for an x reader but uh here it goes. Soooo I'm wondering if you can write a Savage Opress x reader where our reader tags along with him throughout all his travels and is in love with him and patches him up after all the fights but after he finds Maul she feels left out and decides to be a dink and get herself captured by pirates and Savage because a fluffy protector even with his more animal instincts and goes and saves her and adorable fluff? Pretty please

Wow, thank you for giving me the great honor of being your first request! I’m very not good at fluff, but I did my best just for you! Enjoy!

You weren’t particularly vocal about your feelings. Not that it had ever really mattered one way or another, since the man you had been traveling with for years now seemed to favor action over spoken word. Savage Opress was a “brute force” sort of man, having been given unmatched physical ability thanks to the witchcraft of Mother Talzin on Dathomir. Even still, he often returned to his ship limping or holding his side after an encounter with a particularly skilled combatant, leading you to force him to sit and allowing you to bandage him with gentle hands, a practice you had developed during your travels.

He was seen as a monster everywhere he went, height pushing past the seven-foot mark, and a generally annoyed scowl plastered on his face constantly. Yet, when you looked at him, the first things that came to mind were not “monster” or “terrorist.” Instead, you saw a side that not many had the pleasure or privilege to experience. He often came to you with his worries and fears, even going so far as to hold you close when his past came back to haunt him.

“They called me monster,” he said to you once when you were taking care of a particularly nasty bruise that spanned the length of his ribcage. “Is that what I have become?”

You looked up at him, his face scrunched up, contemplating the words. “I’ve never thought of you that way,” you said, putting down the bandage for a moment and holding on to his wrist. “They don’t know you. I do.”

His face became more contorted. “And what do you know? All I am is violence and hatred. There is nothing else.”

“If that were true, I wouldn’t be here.” You smiled at him, but held to your firm tone. “You’ve shown me nothing but kindness the whole time I’ve been here. I don’t see a monster when I look at you. I see… someone who was hurt. A powerful, determined, sun-kissed Zabrak that will do all that he must for who he cares about.”

You smiled when a low chuckle sounded from his chest. “Sun-kissed?”

“Your skin,” you said, prodding an area of his arm not covered by tattoos or bandages. “It reminds me of sunlight.”

But those moments seemed to be gone now. Of course, you knew Savage had been given his strength for a purpose, initially to be an undercover apprentice to Dooku, and eventually to find his brother, Maul, who had been assumed dead for an upwards of twelve years. But once he was found, you weren’t sure what would happen. At first, you had thought things would go back to normal, albeit with a new member of the party helping to plot for revenge and a takeover of various people who would prove useful to the Sith lords. Instead, Savage had been pulled away from you, trading quiet moments of intimate conversation for being caught up in his extremist brother’s delusions of grandeur.

The most interaction you’d had with Savage for the past few months was periodic glances and small smiles passed between you two as Maul mapped out every movement he was forcing Savage to carry out. Even in times when you believed you could catch him alone, you’d find that his brother was already there, training him or discussing alternatives to existing plans. When you walked in, Savage saw you and softened his glance, but Maul only hardened, his eyes piercing into yours.

“Yes?” he would ask coldly, as if you were intruding on anything actually important. Savage would look down, the normally dominant creature becoming a mere tool for his new master to use at his disposal. Nevermind that he was the older sibling.

Your world was rocked to its core. This intruder into your life had taken from you the one thing that made all of this traveling and uprooting worthwhile.

Eventually, Maul had dragged you two to the surface of Florrum, gathering what pirate followers he could to take over the rest of the Weequay gang. The moment your ship landed on the planet, the siege began.

“Stay here,” Savage said to you before disembarking. “I’ll be back for you.”

He left before you could say a word. You scowled and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“Like hell I will. You’re not going to appreciate me? Fine. See what happens.” You waited a few moments before exiting the ship yourself, sneaking around the side to ensure that Savage didn’t see you, dust kicking up from the bare ground around your boots.

Blaster shots in the distance covered your hiding spots and burying any noise you made into obscurity. But of course, not long into your little adventure, a band of Weequay blocked your path, blasters raised up to your face. Your arms raised for insurance that they wouldn’t assume you were armed and shoot you before you had time to carry out your pseudo-revenge.

“Well well well,” one of the pirates grinned, spikes from his face moving up and down with his jaw. “What do we have here? A little loth cat poking her nose around in our business?”

Yet another Weequay came closer to you and poked your arm with the blaster. “Quite a lovely one aren’tcha? Might there be a person who’d pay a pretty price for your pretty head?”

You released a short sigh and looked at the sky. Seriously? But, you complied with their presses, certain that you’d get out one way or another. Not that you wanted to, exactly.

“There might be,” you shrugged, knowing they’d take the bait. And with such an affirmation, the pirates pulled at both of your arms, leading you back to their base.

The room you found yourself in was musty, a trace of mildew lingering in the air. It was fairly empty, a chair in the middle for you to be tied up in, but otherwise sound reverberated off the blank metal walls fiercely. It was perfect. The only thing you didn’t particularly like was the gag tied around your mouth, which also smelled like mildew.

The blaster sounds stopped. Cheering followed the silence, and the door opened. Hondo.

“How nice to see you, little bird!” he called out cheerily, spreading his arms as if inviting in a group hug. He snapped his fingers and the gag around your mouth was pulled down. “Now that the Jedi and those horned gentlemen are gone, we may proceed with introductions. I am Hondo Ohnaka, leader of this merry band of pirates! And you are?”

“They’re gone? All of them?” You were more incredulous than you thought you would be. You couldn’t believe Savage would just abandon you, not realizing you were gone.

“Er, yes,” Hondo hesitated. “They left a few moments ago. Why would it matter?”

You opened your mouth, about to insist that it didn’t, before sharp cries of pain echoed from the hallway. You could hear a deep voice crying out, “Where is she?!” in the distance.

Hondo whipped around towards the sounds. “And that would be my cue,” he said, backing away from the room and running through the doors.

Savage stomped in, one of the pirates necks held in his powerful grasp. His eyes widened at the state you were in.

“You!” He threw the pirate to the side and rushed to your side, working at the straps holding down your arms. “What did you think you were doing?! I told you to stay with the ship!”

Once you were released, you stood up, walking away from where he knelt. “Oh yeah? Were you there to make sure I did? Are you ever here to make sure of anything?”

He stood and tried to follow you. “What do you mean? I’ve been ensuring your safety for so long. No harm has come to you until now.”

“But that’s just the issue!” You turned to face him, tears welling up in your eyes. “It’s not about my safety, Savage! It never has been. In fact, I feel less safe now! All you do is follow your brother’s orders, carrying out his crazy plans that could get you killed! I don’t ever see you! The only conversation we’ve had until just now has been, ‘Brother this’ and ‘Brother that.’ ‘My Master this’ and ‘My Master that.’ It’s all you seem to care about! But what about me, Savage? What about-”

You couldn’t finish before he came to you and pulled you into his arms, his strength holding you close, yet being gentle enough not to hurt you. He smelled faintly of metal, but with a touch of honey. He was so… warm. Your hands were scrunched up in front of you and you rested your head on his chest, feeling the beating of his hearts.

“My only desire”,” he began, slightly tightening his hold on you. “Was that you would be safe. I follow my brother’s orders, because I fear the worst for you. I promise I did not know-”

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, cutting off his words of reassurance. “Savage…” you whispered, hoping no one else was around to hear you. “I love you.”

Clearly taken aback, he released you with widened eyes and mouth agape. “You… you love me?”

You smiled at him and nodded, waiting for his reaction. This wasn’t exactly how you had planned to let him know, but it was something. And thankfully enough, this was one of the few moments where you were finally alone.

He was suddenly beaming, his hands grasping your shoulders, almost covering your biceps. “I’d never imagined!” He was almost yelling now, the excitement taking full hold, and his voice made the whole room shake. “I only thought I was going mad! But it’s true! It’s amazing... because I love you as well!”

Your smile grew wider and he took you in his arms once again, almost lifting you off the floor this time. “We must go back to the ship,” he said to you, still pressing you against his chest. “I’m sure you don’t want to be here a moment longer!”

Before you had any time to respond, he knelt down and bent you over his shoulder, holding on to your legs as he walked back to the ship, a little more of a bounce in his step than usual.