#i wanna expand on this more BUT life is fleeting so here this is in case i dont

[aymethyst]

Ahsoka offers Shin a hand, a new start. A chance to start over after a heavy defeat, except that would be betrayal to Baylan. Baylan who was already beytrayed by the clones after his life of service to them as their general during the clone war that lead to the extinction of the Jedi Order, both who he had once blindly but his trust in. Plus Sabine’s betrayal to her master is what got them here in the first place. Going against direct orders for her own gain. Yet here her master is, back from the dead, defending her despite practically endangering her masters mission and the galaxy’s whole future, going rogue making up her own mission, for a /chance/ that an old friend is still alive. /That/ is what interests Shin in the first place. That refusal of black and white thinking, taking risks with huge consequences, Shin never thought was possible, only foolish. A world of possibilities await, yet its dangerous, and she’d be alone or at least without her master, the only one who truly knows her and her strength after all these years. What if something went wrong? She’d end up on her own, in a galaxy far far away with no way to reach back to her master, /if/ he would even take her back. Would all her training be for nothing? Would she no longer have a purpose in this universe? How can Sabine make such a rash decision that could ultimately lead to their destruction, so quickly and with confidence. She sees something she wants, and she goes for it. Doesnt matter who stands in her way. Quickly turning her back as she leaves, Shin can see the desperate urge in Sabines eyes, locked in on her, but this time Ahsoka is there to reign her in. Its too intense a gaze, knowing Sabine will do all in her power to make her own path come true. But this time, Shin knowns, this time Sabine is coming for her, and to make it even worse, she isn’t coming for just a fight and wont take no for an answer.

[kithtaehyung]

Hello!

I have a question, I've been wondering how you come up with the motivation or even ideas for writing stories or even a series? I've written a few short stories but haven't actually accepted the fact that I could write a series because I feel like it wouldn't be good enough. Do you have any pointers or ways to write a story that people would enjoy or even enjoy writing? Any tips will help!

Sorry if this is so weird or out of the blue. Just enjoy your writing style and stories that maybe you would have some tips. If not apologies for bugging you. Hope you have good day/night and stay safe okay?

hi hi! thank you so much for the kind words. :')) really it's a matter of letting things come to me, or expanding on the smallest ideas until it gets to a point of like "wait, this can actually be a full fic/series!" here are some tips i can give that have worked for me, so maybe you can try some of them:

take inspiration from art you see around you. movies, songs, shows, random things you see in your every day life.

write ideas down. i don't care if it's on a random napkin or your notes app on your phone. write them down because chances are they are fleeting thoughts and you forget them later.

accept that not every idea will be a full fic or series. and that's okay! don't stress about the ones that don't come to fruition right away. if you happen to circle back to them, cool; if not, at least it was a cool idea for a moment.

write for you first. especially if it's going to be a series. i've experienced it both ways - writing mostly for me and writing mostly for the audience - and the latter is so much harder to keep going.

what does writing for you mean? write what's fun! write what you can't wait to finish, even if it's just a scene or short story. because if you do this, it's a lot more likely your readers will be able to feel a difference.

if you're a planner: plot it all out! if there are scenes that you can't wait to get to, those serve as the motivation to keep going until you hit that point. and it's amazing to see everyone experience those visions with you once they're finally shared.

if you aren't a planner: go hard and just let the story present itself! this is actually what i do. i don't plan things out because it "boxes me in" mentally and my brain shuts down. so i let the story flow organically as i go. but it's different for everyone!

don't stress about people liking it. do you like it? if so, then write it. then you can decide if you want to share it or not - most likely, you will. and someone out there is gonna find it and love what you created.

know that not every single person will read it. it's just true, and that is 100% okay. honestly? it's freeing to know that. bc once you let go of thinking you need to make something for everyone/good enough for everyone, that freedom will change your creative approach. you create for you, and the people that like what you share. that's it, period.

these are just some of the tips i have, but i don't wanna overwhelm haha. see if any of these work and go from there? whatever you try, i hope it works and that you get that spark of motivation to write. good luck!

[parse-c]

“Loveeeeeee Song” : Tones of Marxism in Modern Capitalist Angst Expressed Through Pop Music

“I don’t want to give you the wrong impression / I need love and affection”

— “Loveeeeee Song”, Rihanna feat. Future, 2012

Graft:

Love (#365efe), and, affection

Network:

loan | loaf ($$$) | vend | affect (to move toward) ٠: ir ٠: direct | ion (state of action)

Hear me out : Rihanna and Future’s “Loveeeeeee Song” as an anachronistic critique of the governmental bailout of “too-big-to-fail” corporations and corporate personhood.

It was a fleeting idea. But I imagined some tug-of-war between the extant capitalist infrastructure and an expanding state body resulting in the carrying through one of the more drastic fiduciary duties of a free government when it comes to intervening in a laissez-faire market, said government being a corporation itself, and said duty being bailouts.

Rather than an appeal to consumers, the singers’ lyrica embody corporations’ market appeal, this time pandering (rather seductively) to the government to subsidize their losses.

“I don’t want to give you the wrong impression /

“I need love and affection /

“And I hope I’m not sounding too desperate /

…

“I’m not asking for the world, maybe /

“You can give me what I want, baby /

“Come hold me tight and when I’m drowning, save me

Basically if you (the government) are really bout that capitalist life, let’s get down to brass tacks. Or gold stacks? Nah, just fiat green backs.

Both the government and the corporations were faced with a question that placed them at the center: How do we save a market when we’re the ones it depends on, saddled as we be with debt national and international alike?

That marked a change or maturation to a subsequent stage of capitalism in America, a quiet renewed fusion of interests intended to seal the fissures that formed, to fill in the places where the companies’ lifeblood hemorrhaged like a Victorian hemophiliac.

“We both grown so how we feel we can let it show

Public-facing, despite socialist (and I use that term lightly) emergency fiduciary infrastructure, one can imagine the corporations’ request that the illusion of a free market be preserved:

“If I’m your girl, say my name boy, let me know I’m in control /

Did the bailouts stipulate governmental shares in tradable companies? I don’t think so. In fact I could be wrong. But:

“Typically, the government also sets higher regulation and oversight of the company, requiring them to restructure…or cap salaries of executives for a time period. Governments provide bailouts in order to maintain regulation of the overall market and economy, and to avoid further collapse of the financial system.”

(Cornell Law 2020)

So I imagine “Loveeeeee Song” captures a subconscious collective angst experienced on the part of free market companies when the federal government intervened.

“Why window shop when you own this? /

Then there’s government bureaucrats leaning over one’s shoulder in the business sector.

“Don’t slip, don’t slip /

And a latent desire for subsidy and privately held means of production to be handed over to the state?

“I just wanna be in your possession /

Marxist sentiments within a capitalist system would be the equivalent of a Freudian death wish or a red scare. But ideally only rears its head as a fleeting but purportedly fatal-to-capitalism-and-freedom solution as one lays out paths toward a return to solvency with minimal disenfranchisement.

Rihanna and Future’s tune was released in 2012. Four years after the TARP bailout that included Chrysler motors. Not as timely a response if we’re limited to our own borders.

But Spain endured a similar economic hardship in 2012. This all being spun from straw here, there’s still room for artistic commiseration with a neighbor across the pond. And in some fateful wyrding way that may have been wrapped up in the liminality of the song.

Some of these musical artists are impressively innovative and inspiringly aware.

Maybe “Loveeeeeee Song” was a way of processing the shock to our exceptional exceptionalism. Some of us will need bailouts in life. Some of us won’t. I know I’ve been the one in need more than a few times in my life.

Anyways, we can learn to understand ourselves through others. Enduring similar situations bridges convivial realms that seem inaccessible by mundane standards yet grant us access when filtered through different media such as art and music.

So…ludibrium or laudi?

٠ع إِ ن ة ئ

[9voltt]

Captain Catalynn's Guide to Galactic Conquest

Hyahaha! So ye wanna take over a galaxy, huh? Well, this here be the guide fer ye! This is how, I, Catalynn, The Absolute Captain of the Galactic Corsairs, would do it!

This is actually the first part of two of this here guide, which I deem: "The Fun way". So yeah, enough of that, here's what ye be fixin' to wanna do.

Step 1: Gather Yer Crew:

Ye can't conquer a galaxy without a crew of scurvy space dogs! Find the meanest, baddest, and craziest pirates ye can. Look for 'em in the darkest corners of the universe – asteroid belts, derelict space stations, and the seedy bars of outlaw planets. Promise 'em plunder, adventure, and the thrill of the chase!

Ye can also just enlist 'em by force, or raise them yerself, it ain't gotta be difficult. Just watch out fer betrayals.

Step 2: Get Yerself a Ship:

Not just any ship, mind ye. Ye need a flagship that's the terror of the starry seas! Customize it with the latest and greatest weapons and tools ye can get, and if ye can't, just make yer own damn guns. Get a science man to do it for ye or somethin'.

Also, don't forget the essentials – a hold big enough fer all yer loot, and quarters fer the crew that'll make 'em loyal fer life. And a trophy room, those are always cool.

Step 3: Map the Stars:

Knowledge be power, I didn't get my status just by bein' a power-hungry lunatic y'know. Get yer hands on star charts that show the hidden routes and secret stashes across the galaxy. Bribe, steal, or charm yer way into possession of the best maps available. Ye'll need 'em to navigate the vast expanse and find the most lucrative targets.

Space be really really big, so wanderin' around without aim ain't exactly ideal, but I ain't gonna stop you. Go wild, go explore, see what ye can find, make yer own adventure. That's what freedom's all about!

Step 4: Establish a Base:

Ye need a safe haven to repair, resupply, and revel in yer victories. Find an uncharted planet or a hidden moon, and make it yer fortress. Arm it to the teeth with whatever trash ye got lying around. Bonus points for decor, let it be known that this be YER stronghold! Hyahaha!

Step 5: Form Alliances:

Even a pirate needs friends sometimes. I kinda don't like wasting time on this step, but my First Mate really nags me about it.

So anyway, seek out other pirate factions, smugglers, and mercenaries. Form temporary alliances to take down bigger foes or to raid heavily defended targets. But, like I always say, trust no one fully – double-cross 'em before they double-cross ye! And remember that there be no witnesses if you kill everyone.

Step 6: Plunder and Pillage:

Now comes the really fun part! Start small by raiding merchant convoys and small colonies. Build up yer reputation as the scourge of the galaxy. Take what ye want and leave nothin' but ashes and fear in yer wake. The bigger the loot, the bigger the legend!

Ye also gotta learn when to give up though. Sometimes a place or target may be too dangerous, so running away is always a valid tactic. Just don't forget to cover yer tracks.

Step 7: Expand Yer Influence:

Once ye've made a name fer yerself, start taking over space stations and minor planets and stuff like that. Install yer loyal crew as governors and ensure they collect tribute in yer name. Spread yer influence through fear and favor, and soon ye'll have a network of loyal territories.

Step 8: Conquer Key Systems:

Identify the strategic systems – those with rich resources, advanced technology, or important trade routes. Launch coordinated attacks with yer fleet, overwhelming defenses and capturing the systems. Fortify 'em and use 'em as bases for further expansion. The ball is rollin', make sure it doesn't stop! Hyahaha!

Step 9: Spread Fear and Chaos:

Ye want the galaxy to tremble at the mere mention of yer name. Stage daring raids, broadcast yer victories, and make public examples of those who defy ye. Brutality is key. The more fear ye spread, the less resistance ye'll face. Make sure to have a kickass flag too, can't forget about that!

Step 10: Declare Yer Dominion:

When ye control enough of the galaxy, make yer grand proclamation! Announce yerself as the supreme ruler of the place, y'know. Celebrate with a galaxy-wide party – or a rampage, whatever suits yer fancy. From that point on, let it be known that the galaxy bows to YOU, my friend!

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

Hyahaha! That be the fun way to conquer a galaxy. Remember, matey, it's not just about the destination, but the wild, riotous journey that gets ye there.

Stay tuned fer part two of this here guide, where Mads'll teach ye the "efficient" way, if ye be so inclined. Until then, happy conquerin'!

PS: Just in case some of y'all up 'n comin' captains get too big for yer britches - If you ever so much as a set sword in my territory I will eliminate all trace of you and your sorry crew by myself. Just keep that in mind before mindlessly taking over a place. Ok?

[ruckusresourcebin]

     VOXES: STIMULANT LYRIC STARTERS. starters from the Sig Figs Collective’s album Voxes: Stimulant, a fan album dedicated to Dimension 20′s The Unsleeping City. Change pronouns / lines as needed!

TIMES GONE BY.

“ our fears have eyes that see the futures we could manifest. “ “ hold on tight those who know you true. “ “ don’t forget all of the years that made you into someone worth more than just a couple pearls. “ “ dream a bigger dream. “ “ when we’re left a choice and all the voices fade, will we trust the ones who lift us up? “ “ the things we need are already inside. “ “ there’s a sun on the horizon. “ “ will we make it there? “ “ we can make it there! “ “ throw avarice aside. “ “ we’ll take a cup of kindness yet for times gone by. “

OF ALL THINGS.

“ you abandoned them. “ “ where did you go? did you even love your family? “ “ you belong in the sewer. you’re a fucking rat. “ “ make sure you say goodbye. “ “ i’ve lived a life that’s small and putrid, drowning in regret. “ “ there are things that i’ve done that i’d like to forget. “ “ i know i’ve stained your soul with abandonment and pain. “ “ . . . you don’t seem to mind. “ “ you conduct your work with pride. “ “ now how do i depart? “ “ you’re the best son that i could’ve asked for. “ “ i don’t deserve all this love without heed. “ “ i can’t help but wonder what things you will achieve. “ “ if i was a better father, i would have worked harder and would have gone farther to see you succeed. “ “ i love you more than all things. “ “ i spent so many years defiant, feeling sorry for myself. “ “ i slowly recognized the suffering i’ve dealt. “ “ i developed the perspective to see others in distress. “ “ from that point on, i’ve aided my fellow dispossessed. “ “ you have the natural empathy that it took me years to see. “ “ i’m proud of the man you’ve become. “ “ you’re someone i wish i was when i was young. “ “ i ran away from my feelings, abandoned my family . . . “ “ you’re a fuckin’ ball - buster with a passionate luster to protect others without so much as a boast. “ “ i know you don’t forgive me. “ “ i would say i’m sorry, but there’s no apology that would let me hold you close. “ “ i have to go. “ “ i feel my consciousness expand. “ “ i can’t have what i want ; some dreams have to end. “ “ just know in your heart, i’ll be protecting you from somewhere. “ “ you saved us . . . you did it. “ “ you got to say goodbye. “

WALK WITH ME.

“ we were young then, back in our spring, but the leaves have all fallen. “ “ your name still lives in my throat. “ “ we were in love then. “ “ it’s not something we lost along the way. “ “ even if we made mistakes, they were the best i ever made. “ “ walk with me. “ “ i promise it will be easy. “ “ it all feels so new. “ “ let me get to know you. “ “ i don’t have anything to prove when i tell you i still love you. “ “ i’m sorry for the time i wasted. “ “ through the years, i always felt the same. “ “ i think it’s time i be a bit selfish. “ “ i’ve never been scared of the cold. “ “ if it’s with you, i want to grow old. “ “ let’s make some more memories. “ “ even if just for awhile, let’s try again. “ “ let’s make our dreams come true. “

LEEWAY.

“ it’s a really bitter lesson when you realize how much hope hurts you. “ “ life is full of so much light. it’s easy to remind yourself of what’s good. “ “ still, pain creeps in around the edges. “ “ sure, there might be roads that would be easier to walk, but the ones that we are on are all the better for the loss. “ “ when our paths cross, it’s worth for those fleeting seconds. “ “ i’ll stare down heaven, knowin’ that it’s pure perfection. “ “ the hope is worth the pain. “ “ when i look into your eyes, i can see a future i wanna live in. “ “ there’s nothing that we just can’t do. “ “ there’s magic all around us. “ “ you remind me how to wonder, how to dream what isn’t here yet. “ “ i’m not convinced that anyone could outshine you. “ “ i’d stare down god himself if it meant i got to spend just one second by your side. “ “ i’m learning there’s some lines that can’t be crossed. “ “ we’ll make it through whatever. “ “ there’s nothing that can’t keep us two together. “

SWORD GUY.

“ the government sucks. the establishment sucks. society fuckin’ sucks. but the devil? fuckin’ sick, dude. “ “ this hot topic’s a time capsule, vintage polaroid of like, ‘04. “ “ i stood at the black countertops as if they were an altar. “ “ he’s got, like, a marmot’s head. “ “ do you know what a marmot is? “ “ fuck, this shit looks looks fuckin’ sick, dude! “ “ my heart is as cold as the ice, like the ice in the parking lot but also hard, like the concrete that mixes with the ice, in the mall, in the parking lot. “ “ the pigs & the pit lions set to fight now and the gladiator? he is set to go down! “ “ bro, i’m like an even bigger lion, like a liger, and instead of claws i’ve got, like, twelve fucking swords, dude. “ “ the devil’s fuckin’ cool. “ “ i’m losin’ my grip, again. “ “ oh, i’m gonna be sick. i swear, i’m gonna be so fuckin’ sick, dude, sick as hell. “ “ like, an angel in the night, but not that boring kind of angel. “ “ bro, my wings are made of swords and i’ve got horns instead of halos! “ “ lucifer, beseech me! help me defeat my enemies! “ “ don’t be my oorichimaru. be my jiriya, maybe? “ “ he doesn’t have, like, snakes for arms or anything, so i think i’m good, right? “ “ i’m fine. this is fine. “ “ this is the devil. “ “ this is definitely the devil. i mean, he straight up said, ‘yes, i am the guy you just said,’ and i just said the devil . . . so? “ “ those tender thoughts i do refine. “ “ i am the one that you seek, so come hither. “

NOTHING.

“ what if, anything, stays? “ “ have you heard tale of the child who looks over every night? “ “ go visit them. “ “ you will be safe as their guest, but be sure not to leave their eyes. “ “ one by one, it kills the stars. “ “ its shadow makes the city bleed and the empty windows scream. “ “ do not step out into the deep. “ “ you will not wake up from that sleep. “ “ nothing. nothing stays. “

LONELY.

“ i’m so lonely. “ “ no one to hold me. no one to tell me it’s gonna be alright. “ “ dunno how all this happened, where i found all this sadness. “ “ seems it’s been a month since i saw my reflection and smiled. “ “ this city takes its toll. “ “ i’m losing all control of my heart, of my head, of my mind . . . “ “ tell me i’m gonna be fine. please, somebody tell me. “ “ i’m such a clown, naive and dumb. “ “ i’m facedown in the covers of my bed again. “ “ nothing bad is ever gonna happen. “ “ you don’t have to be alone. “ “ i can be there in a moment. “ “ i’ll be there for you, if you want me to. “ “ it’s hard to hold on. “ “ hold on. “ “ we look out for each other. “ “ is there someone bothering you right now? “ “ you can talk to me. let your guard down. “ “ does this have something to do with the things you saw? “ “ did it scare you? “ “ i know that people are harder to read sometimes. “ “ it’s confusing, figuring truth from lies. “ “ i’m here for you, and our friends are too. “ “ meet my eyes: you’re alive. you’re not alone again. “ “ pull up a seat, prop your feat, eat your fill, and then we’ll just exist. “ “ if tomorrow things get worse, we’ll do it all again. “

MANTRA.

“ these meetings of the mind always lead to contests of might. “ “ well, you hope to see fists fly ‘cause if it’s words, it’s ruined lives. “ “ sometimes, looking forward means you can’t watch your back. “ “ though it pains me to stop dreaming, it seems for now i need the past. “ “ a man can always smile to make it seem like he’s polite, but i know too many times it’s just a place where malice hides. “ “ he holds the power to jump from first place to last. “ “ i know i’m just as worth it. “ “ seems for now i’m trapped. “ “ status quo can’t be our ideology! “ “ things never got better by leaving them be! “ “ i won’t become the one that keeps the future bleak! “ “ i promise you, the fuckin’ buck will stop with me! “ “ don’t think that things are done just ‘cause you gave me little crumbs. “ “ i’m chasing down the sun, makin’ sure tomorrow comes. “

CITY LIGHTS.

“ wait, what did he just say? “ “ there’s those of us in gutters, those on sorts of stages. “ “ this city’s streets shouldn’t be lined with folks. “ “ these are the hearts, the hope, unlike ‘upstanding’ dopes like you, sir, running some kind of hoax. “ “  c’mon man, don’t fuck with my people! “ “ this is my block, these are my streets! this is my town, and this is my city! “ “ we won’t let no sycophantic, greedy, two - faced guy like you come here and corrupt the culture! “ “ the fuck you thinking? we are new yorkers! “ “ we’ll rise above your corporate torture. “ “ they lead us home tonight. “ “ we protect our own. “ “ we protect our home. “ “ you’ll be safe with us. “ “ ‘cause new york city and i will provide! “ “ i’ll be here serving and protecting until the day i die. “ “ no, what the fuck did you just say? “ “ my domain has encountered many a strange thing. “ “ know that, him? he is my people. yes, he is my people! “ “ we’ll channel our power, and for extra measure, kick your ass into the pavement. think of it as the city’s payment. “ “ these are the lights that welcome strangers home. “ “ maybe this city isn’t better off with me looking the other way. “ “ i’ve loved and then i sure have lost. “ “ would you take me? make me feel the same? “ “ life looks to be leading back to you today, and tomorrow, next week, next month. “ “ if i asked you for the night, would you stay? “ “ welcome all the dreamers to this beautiful skyline! “ “ i’m here flying high in this city. “ “ ain’t this swell? “ “ aren’t you pretty? “

WAKE UP.

“ it’s harder . . . it’s harder to think sometimes. “ “ my mind gets foggy. “ “ i start to sink sometimes into apathy. “ “ please, come talk to me. “ “ i’m part of something only few may comprehend. “ “ try not to slip back in again. “ “ it’s fantastic, amazing, how the world can open up to someone. “ “ it’s pleasant . . . the feeling i get when i can bring some sense of fun. “ “ dramatic, but it really feels like i’m becoming someone fantastic, phantasmal! “ “ here i am. i am the one! “ “ watch out! “ “ so run, if you’re hiding. “ “ don’t fear change. transformations incoming! “

[celticcrossanon]

I’m so sorry for the rant. I just needed to clear my head and got compelled to do it in your inbox. 🙇🏾‍♀️

Not a question just some thoughts. Sorry I’m spamming you so much. I just read your latest reading about the wanna be“tour” and all I can do is SMH. I think to some extent we saw this coming but they are dialing it up and expanding. Conscious humans would’ve called it quits by now. The Remembrance Day pap walk, Going to elementary schools, “donations”, writing letters like they are world leaders, etc. On one hand I can’t see this becoming much of a “thing”. I don’t think MM and Jarry will go on doing this for long unless they can get some Hollywood to pay attention and acknowledge them. I think another reason with the more public European Royals work so well in their media is because their countries are relatively small, like California and Texas are on the large side in comparison, am I right? So much can happen on one side of the country that I only hear of thanks to friends back in California. I can’t see these two visiting any farm in Montana as “royals” if ever. They got a Clinton and Perhaps more big names and “engagement” is to come (oh god 🤦🏾‍♀️) I’m sure they and the sugars are just loving it but it all looks, sounds and feels so incrediblly STUPID & ABSOLUTELY VAPID AND INSULTING. etc etc. I cannot stand entitled people and the fact that these two cut off, trashed, and demand from their own families for a fleeting moment in the spotlight is unfathomable. That’s a testimony to how strong narcissistic delusions can be. It must be the best high I could ever ask for. 🖤Im new to “Royal Watching” if you can call what I do ‘that’, so I don’t really care about all the other indiscretions. I don’t trust the media and I think it’s just the BRF turn in the hot sun to catch hell. See Andrew, see the Clintons and all the others. Whatever drama is going on with Charles, see the rest of big business. I’m a narcissistic abuse survivor and I still study on the disorder. Now here I am watching these two who make my skin craw, this train needs to SPEED UP . I think I’m just looking for a bit of JUSTICE in the world right now. Between this administration, COVID, my job and all my other drama (I’m sure we all have some, if not BLESS YOU and pass it on 🥺) I’m flabbergasted and a little sick in my stomach at watching yet another set of people be able to walk through life seemingly so unbothered. It’s like the world is closing in and I’m suffocating. 🖤Like, your telling me that just because he was born a Prince and she married him and found a way to have children they get to get away with all of this?. The entitlement, the lies, the forced Wokery, using heavy and important subjects like mental health and racism for a PR boost all just to get a⭐️ on the Hollywood walk of Fame? For a couple of royals they sure know how to dump cold water on ya, they are the epitome of LIFE ISNT FAIR. And I’m sure that all depends on perspective, for example; their sugars who must be going diabetic RN. THEY think they have suffered as well. Look at the Cambridge’s who have not put a foot out of place yet have to deal with these tantrums from all over their family. All families have drama and I can see how the Harkles and the rest could be a payback of the Firm and family as a whole. The Queen covered so much and never really saw that Henry and Andrew and god knows who else were set straight. Look what having so much privilege can do. But is there a limit, anywhere?🖤

🖤Anyways, another thought I had was, this could be the end for any thought of reunion. This Narcissist has worked her magic and this clueless tone deaf fool has really gone and done it. I was driving and I thought of Prince William and the entire remaining Windsors & Mountbatten Windsor’s and the whole Aristocracy cutting the Harkles off entirely because the BRF called a wrap (or had to) and the UK became a Republic after Her Majesty. MM get the privlage in her narcissistic head that she’s the last ever to become a Duchess, Cathrine wouldn’t become the Princess of Wales and it all came down in part because of her and Henry’s actions. Yes Andrew and whoever else aren’t helping but these two made it exceptionally difficult. I think they would take pride in that especially publicly but only when they are praised for it. I think the Cambridge’s would have an easier time with moving on with their family, free to live as they please with no pressure to serve the public. Cathrine can be “lazy”, sleep in, & raise her kids and Wills is free to🖕 the paps who would surely still follow them. A La “where are they now”. The two that would have it the worse are the Harkles as they last bit of what they had to separate them from the rest of Hollywood is gone, no more Royal sheen but they don’t have much now. It would be stupid to use the titles after an abolished monarchy but they’d do it and expose themselves further.🖤 If you made it this far, one last thing. I got cut off while driving. That’s not unusual in this Miami traffic and usually i ignore it but with my mental state I couldn’t help but to compare. it was a packed road and I just really wanted to know where the heck the fire was. Why did this person need to rush so much on a busy road that no one else mattered even though we all have somewhere to go? That’s how I feel about the Harkles. What’s the point, where are they going? They went to New England for Christ sake to play faux royalty, in more trashy outfits might I add. 🤦🏾‍♀️

I guess I do have a question, DOES THE WORLD REALLY BELONG TO THOSE WHO JUST Get UP AND TAKE IT?

Thanks for humoring me and providing this space. ✌🏾

Note: My apologies for this very long post, everyone. I can't put a page break in and the writer needs to let it all out. I am sure a lot of you will be feeling somewhat similar to them.

Reply under the cut, so this is not any longer

Hi april14vc,

You are welcome to rant here.

It sounds like you have a lot going on at the moment and it is all becoming a bit much to handle, as there is no relief anywhere. Is there something fun and relaxing that you can do for you sometime today, just to have a break from it all? I feel like you need to tune out for a bit and do something that is just for you.

I am so sorry that you suffered from narcissistic abuse, and so glad that you survived this. I think the Harkle shenanigans must hurt you in a more personal way than those of us who have never suffered under a narcissist. It is very hard to watch the Harkles seemingly get away with all their entitled abuse without any form of justice coming for them.

I think the Harkles are suffering. They usually are unable to get any sort of attention from the media unless they pay for it, and even then they don't trend - it is a 'blink and you miss it' situation. Look at what happened with Meghan's 40 for 40 program - it was dead in the water before the day was over, and she spent a fortune on PR for that. Compare that to the natural (not paid for) hype that surrounds anything that the BRF does, especially the Cambridges or HMTQ. That hype and attention is what Meghan wants, and she is not getting it.

What the Harkles are getting, and what they hate, is mockery. Look at the response to their Times 100 cover. Look at the comments on this pseudo-royal tour. They are a walking joke, and no narcissist would like that. They tried to cull all negative press while they were members of the BRF, were unsuccessful in stemming all of it, and now have no clout at all to stop any negative media attention. The Harkles may live in a delusion of success, but to the vast majority of people they are no more than very risible z-list celebrities.

The Harkles also have serious money troubles. They may be ignoring them, but those debts will have to be paid, one way or another.

What we are seeing now is the slow slide of the Harkles into obscurity, and their desperate attempts to reverse the process, which never work. They are no more popular and wanted now than they were at the time of Megxit, and in fact their popularity has declined since those days. They may look like they are winning, but it is all an illusion, caused by the amounts of money they are prepared to pay to give the illusion of wealth and star-quality celebrity. The paid for events happen, and then nothing. The paid for PR happens, and then nothing. Their slide downwards continues, and nothing that they do is reversing it.

Yes, at the moment they are on a high and beaming put of every report on their activities. Wait a week and then see where they are. This is like the Oprah interview all over again.

My next reading is going to be on the consequences of this pseudo-royal tour for the Harkles, so maybe there will be some justice for you there.

Edited to add: As for taking down the monarchy, I can't see that happening. For starters, the British government would have to put the matter to the people for a vote, and even if they are insane enough to do that, I can't see the British public voting to remove a beloved Queen because of the antics of two people who are despised that that country. The logistics of replacing the monarchy are also staggering - you have to rework the entire government of not just Great Britain, but of all the commonwealth realms who have HMTQ as Head of State, and that is not an easy task or a light undertaking. In addition, those Commonwealth Realms can keep HM as their head of state even if she is ejected by the British people (which would never happen, but I am stretching the bounds of probability here). After HMTQ comes Charles, who will have a short reign simply because of his age and health, and then William will be king, and he is also loved by the British public. I just can not see all that thrown away for the Harkles, who are rightly hated by the British public.

[chokemeanakin]

Give Me Love

Chapter Six

Wc: 1.2k

MASTERLIST

Smut warning!

You wrenched yourself out of sleep, faintly hearing the horrifying shrill of your alarm clock in the deepest part of your sleeping brain. You groaned, swearing you had just fallen asleep, when you turned over to read the clock.

Shit.

Launching out of bed, you quickly pulled on a new pair of scrubs and threw your hair up in a messy style. You had approximately 10 minutes to get to your station, and the Jedi Temple was 5 minutes away at a sprint. You smeared some quick makeup on, dragged deodorant under your arms, and then shoved your feet in your shoes, fleeing down the hall as fast as your sleep-dizzy body could take you.

You realized, after just making it to the medbay on time, that you hadn’t been able to grab something quick for breakfast. Oh well, you would have to skip it. Serves you right for sleeping through your alarms and then waking up at the last possible minute. The adrenaline was just wearing off, leaving you grumpy and more than a little exhausted as you flicked the lights on in your station. Bleary eyes took a moment to focus on your surroundings before they fell on a styrofoam cup from your favorite coffee shop sitting on your supply table, a note beside it.

Meet me in the hangar after your shift ends.

-Anakin

+++

“No please?” You thrust the letter at him. He closed his hand over your fist, returning it to your side as he grinned and pulled you alongside him toward his ship.

“Not this time. I pulled a lot of strings in order for this to happen.”

“For what to happen?”

Anakin didn’t answer you. Instead, he climbed up the ladder on the side of the ship, slipping into the cockpit of his interceptor.

“Come on,” he beckoned with his gloved hand. “Get in with me.”

You found yourself smiling like a fool, giddy with anticipation as you climbed the ladder. Anakin Skywalker was taking you for a spin in his famous Actis-class interceptor. You heard this was the fastest ship in the Republic fleet. How much better could this day get?

So much better.

You realized this as you reached the top of the ladder, hesitating as you scanned the cockpit for a place to sit. There was only one seat, and he was in it. Where were you going to go?

“It’s a little small… there’s only supposed to be enough space for one person. I just thought you could sit here, if you’re okay with that—“

Doubt seemed to taper his words as his sentence trailed off, unsure that you would be willing to get so close to him. A surge of something hot and ready ignited in your chest, a desire to prove him wrong. You weren’t the stumbling, scared girl he had met in the diner last night. You were more than that, and you could prove it to him now. First by… sitting on his lap?

“Here, scootch forward a bit. Just so that you’re not right on top of me. Otherwise I can’t see.” Your body was putty in his hands as his hands closed around your waist— just barely, but enough for sparks to shoot across the places he touched. You found the edge of a leather seat, and then he encouraged you to lean back into him as his legs bracketed yours. It wasn’t as squished as you originally thought. In fact— you really liked it. The small space gave you an excuse to get up close and personal with Anakin, and the feel of his firm body pressed against your back sent large waves of happy chemicals to your brain.

“Comfortable?”

Oh fuck.

That voice, right up against your ear, lips ticking your skin, oh shit. He had to know what he was doing.

You nodded, humming a little in confirmation, as you didn’t trust your voice not to shake. Anakin smirked knowingly, although you couldn’t see it as he began pressing random buttons on the dash.

His arms brushed over your shoulders as he closed the glass dome over you, mumbling into his earpiece to Artoo. The ladder retracted, wings expanding, and suddenly, you were flying.

Watching Anakin pilot was something magnificent altogether. That night, you lived it over and over in your head, rubbing yourself in time with his fingers flying over the dashboard. You reached your peak because of the most random, scandalous things. The grip of his glove over the throttle. The flex of his bicep as he pulled it back, almost touching you. The steady breathing of his hard chest behind you. Even the way he shot orders at Artoo, then praised him for a job well done after every command. That was a droid, and he was so good to it—

You thought you had really hit the highest point of your life, until he gifted you with that glorious laugh in your ear, and then asked, “You wanna see something cool?”

You nodded— of course you did. And suddenly, you were spinning around and around and around. Your hands clutched at his thighs for stability as the ship circled around in the dead of space. The stars blurred into continuous lines around you, your entire point of existence narrowing down to your dizzy brain, the man laughing in boyish glee behind you, the screaming droid in the back, and your hands gripping at his muscular thighs.

And when he finally stopped spinning, and you finally stopped laughing along with him, and you finally managed to focus your eyes again on the endless black night before you, he lowered his lips to your ear again and murmured, “Was that okay? Too much?”

You’re pretty sure you gushed right there, on the spot.

Was he doing that on purpose? Did he realize the effect his words had on you?

No matter the answer, you had reached your peak three times tonight from that moment alone. You could still feel the tickle of his lips as they brushed against your ear. The flex of his hard muscle against your back. The warmth of his presence surrounding every inch of you.

You wanted him here, right here, in bed with you. Pulling these sounds from your lips with his hands, these wonderful feelings from your core.

Your fingers paused on their way to your 4th orgasm.

Was that really what you wanted?

Yes.

That wasn’t the question you should be asking. Of course you wanted that, you’d be crazy not to. The real challenge was, how would you be able to get over all of your fears and insecurities to a point where you could even think about doing that with him?

The thought had a familiar, agonizing nausea building up in the pit of your stomach. You were sick of it, deciding to ignore it in order to lose yourself in your fantasies one last time. You delved deeper into your mind, drawing yourself to a high against sweat-slicked sheets, spasming and convulsing around your hand and a whimpering prayer of, “Anakin, Anakin, Anakin.”

After that last high, the blanket of shame was thrown over you again. How could you keep doing this to Anakin? Breaching his trust like this? Imagine what he would say if he found out you had these perverse thoughts about him. You had to stop, immediately.

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[ohsofoxyclocks]

‪So, I have many thoughts about the finale ending that I haven’t even sorted out my feelings about yet BUT posts on here have helped me see the positives in the ending...Yes I’m still bothered by some of the beach conversation and the TIMING of Steve’s temporary leave and the fact of what we see last on the screen despite knowing Steve will of course return, but I’m going to put that aside to focus on OMG WE JUST GOT AN ALMOST WHOLE EPISODE STRAIGHT FROM A FANFIC THAT I ABSOLUTELY LOVED. I know much of this has been discussed so I apologize if it’s repetitive, but a bunch of my favorite McDanno fanfiction tropes just actually happened in canon and I just...still can’t believe we actually got all of it? So I wanted to make my own list, and feel free to add on or expand or share your thoughts about any of these!! Let’s take stock (warning, this is long!): ‬

‪-Danny calling Steve in distress, Steve immediately leaving his important cipher mystery meeting to get to him. Can already see Steve starting to freak out before the gunshots ring out when he looks out the window and stutters. ‬

‪-Gunshots ringing out OVER THE LINE, and Steve very obviously starting to panic. Drives like a maniac (still confused on how going INTO oncoming traffic was supposed to help but I digress). Steve yelling Danny’s name repeatedly desperate to hear his voice‬

‪-arriving at a burning camaro, screaming Danny’s name (fun tip: play this bit in slow motion!), and STICKING HIS ARM IN A BURNING CAR/catching himself on fire when he thinks Danny could be inside‬

‪-You can hear the creeping desperation/emotion in Steve’s voice as he’s giving orders to HPD (“Detective Danny Williams-MY PARTNER-you know who he is”)‬

-Steve actually mobilizing the whole island to find his Danno. (Again, something I never really expected to see outside of a fanfic). “I want every person on this island with a badge looking for Danny Williams”‬

-Steve’s face when he walks into HQ with Cole and the tears in his eyes when Tani is showing him the kidnapping footage ‬

‪-Just the whole “An enemy of Steve’s uses Danny to get to him”!!!! I always wanted it but never expected it so explicitly ‬

‪-“I HAVE THE PERSON YOU CARE ABOUT MOST IN THE WORLD.” GUYS—IT DOESNT MATTER WHATEVER ELSE HAPPENS BECAUSE THIS IS CANON BABY. We knew it, everybody knows it, but now it’s confirmed. When rewatching the series, remember this<3 also part of me is like, will all the other criminals hear about this and try to do the same when Steve comes back since Steve put up no fight in giving in to Dayui Mei’s demands? Isthiswhyheleftsoquickly‬.

-video footage of Danny strung up and bloodied...fanfic come to life. Steve’s face when he sees this....‬

‪-Steve looking like he’s gonna simultaneously collapse, panic, and murder someone when Dayiu Mei is asking him what he will do‬

‪-Steve not hesitating to give into Mrs. Wo Fat’s demands bc any risk is too risky when Danno is involved‬

‪-The team trying to get Steve to give a flying fart about the cipher when Danny’s life is on the line and Steve still not giving a flying fart. ‬

-Steve finding Danny lying helpless on the floor. His whispered “Danny” when he first sees him (you have to listen close for this because the dramatic background music is super loud at this point).‬

‪-His little stream of soft, comforting reassurances as he’s getting Danno to the car. Danny holding onto him‬

‪-CRADLING BLOODIED, STRUGGLING TO-BREATHE-DANNO TO HIS CHEST IN HIS ARMS. My mom, who doesn’t ship McDanno romantically but loves their friendship, when this happened: “whoa! That’s a little much (gay), don’t you think?” Hehe, no, it’s perfect. ‬

-More tears from Steve as he’s holding Danny on the way to the hospital.‬

-Steve’s comforting reassurances and refusing to let go of Danny on the gurney until he’s absolutely forced to. DANNY REACHING FOR HIM, Steve’s reassuring pat. Steve’s face as he looks down at him fearing how dire this is.‬

‪-Steve’s face as he collapses against the wall when they roll Danny through the double doors, closing his eyes, trying to calm his breathing as he tries to avoid thinking about the unthinkable.‬

-STEVE BARGAINING WITH GOD FOR DANNY’S LIFE. After not seeing him pray before I don’t think? His face...that emotion...omg. He very obviously can’t imagine living in a world without Danny in it, and would rather die than do so. ‬

-Side note: Imo, Steve seemed closed off to the team—physically and emotionally—when he wasn’t sure Danny would make it. Almost as if we got a glimpse of the Steve he’d be without his Danno, if that makes sense. Notice how he’s turned away from them in the waiting room/chapel, how he didn’t even look at them when Danny was wheeled away through the double doors. How he didn’t give an eff about the cipher they were trying to get him to care about. Not that he doesn’t have beautiful Ohana bonds with the other team members because of course he does, but...it’s just different with Danny and I don’t know how he would’ve made it through this one, especially considering his already struggling state at the time. I think we kind of saw a glimpse of that, is my point. They both helped each other grow since first meeting, and it was almost like that part Danny helped bring out in Steve went away with Danny when Steve thought he might lose him. If that makes sense? More on this later? ‪

‪-Steve holding unconscious Danny’s hand❤️❤️❤️ Closing his eyes and letting out a deep breath right after taking his hand (anyone want to gif this moment? ;) )-side camera view of this moment so was hard to see but it’s there. Seeming to look at the machines for reassurances that Danny is alive, healthy. Scanning him over and likely feeling guilty for the marks on his body. Holding his head in his hands by Danny’s bedside.‬

‪-the whole conversation when Danny wakes up! Danny, probably a little doped up, all sweet and reassuring and cuddly and funny. “Why’d you stop holding my hand?” and Steve immediately taking his hand back and rubbing his forearm I think (this was out of the camera angle tho so idk for sure). Steve’s voice tinged with so much emotion when he says “Buddy.” And, Steve being emotionally vulnerable/open again bc his Danno is back!! This whole scene I just fhdisksml. ‬

‪-Steve’s smiling and squeezing and wrapping his arms around Danno like an octopus when he hugs him (I wish we had some additional slightly different camera angles of this hug-as was shown in the promo for example-but I digress again). Danny closing his eyes for a moment, seeming to savor it. Steve getting Danny to look him in the eyes to tell him he loves him. To me, this scene had a very “see you again soon” rather than “goodbye” vibe even though I wish there were parts of the dialogue that were different. ‬

‪-Steve slowing down, looking unsure, and turning back to look at Danny before he leaves. Anyone wanna analyze this? Maybe just a “I know I need to do this so I can come back and be the person I need to be for both of us but fuqqit imma miss you while I’m gone” or “I need to leave so no one can use/hurt him to get to me again right now.” Or just “hey maybe this isn’t the most genius plan.” Idk, but I would LOVE to hear Scott and Alex’s take on this scene. Also they filmed this scene before the show was ended by CBS so who knows how that factored into it. If they thought there would be a possible reunion later?

‪-Telling Eddie to look after Danno, which definitely means Danny will be keeping his house/bed warm til his hubby returns.‬

‪-fleeting thought I have that I might expore later: possible acting choices in the difference in hand holding/smiles between with Danny vs. Catherine?Notthepointofthispostthosoweskipfornow‬

‪-I might post thoughts on other things later but I mainly just wanted to compile this list of straight-out-of-fanfic moments that 100% confirms Danny IS the most important person in Steve’s life and OF COURSE he will return and text/call him everyday til then. Regardless of the end, which is really so open that we can do so many beautiful things with now, most of the episode served as a beautiful culmination of what Steve and Danny have come to mean to each other throughout the last 10 years, and we can rest peaceful and happy in that. ❤️‬ (this is also me still trying to convince myself to be okay with the way things were left on the beach/the conversation, etc)

I would love to hear y’all’s thoughts about any of this!!‬ if you made it this far—I apologize again for the length but lovey boys call for lovey rambles

[puttingfingerstokeys]

penultimate

you wanna be a wee bit sad today? GOOD. -nutpunches the testes of your heart- as usual, tumblr fucked my italics and I’m channeling Kung Lao today--gunna nap instead of do shit about it

shaolin rowdy boys pining implied - LiuLao, uh hmm what else? Just Lao in this one. Nothing juicy

Broken Timeline

“Do you know what it is like?” He speaks to no one, his voice barely above a whisper, alone in the Shirai-Ryu’s famous Fire Gardens. There is a koi pond nearby, with a small cascade of water dumping its contents into the clear water from a stream that seems to loop all the way through the picturesque gardens. It is almost unbelievable that one of the two deadliest assassin clans calls this place their dojo and home. His reflection ripples back up at him as he turns to watch the fish and he frowns. “Huh?” He grunts, “DO you?”

Of course not, he thinks bitterly, how could you—how could you know what any of this is like when you are so… so perfect. His frustration mounts and he pulls the wide-brimmed hat off his head and sticks the bladed edge angrily into the dirt next to him. In times of distress, every teacher he has ever had has told Kung Lao that meditation is an acceptable, even laudable solution. He swallows down the thick, ugly lump in his throat and chokes on his resentment, which he knows is foolish, bratty, and misdirected. It is unbecoming of a White Lotus. He knows what Lord Raiden would say.

 “Release your anger, Kung Lao,” Lao rumbles in his best imitation of Raiden’s thundery voice, “it will only consume you.”

 He scoffs, picking up an orange leaf and examining it without really seeing what he is observing. His eyes scan the veins and cracks without absorbing any of it before he tosses it into the pond. It is light and does not go as far as his mind wishes it would. Color settles high on his cheeks as he props his chin on one hand, elbow on his knee. 

 “Tell that to future you, Lord Raiden—frying your favorite student and letting the spare…” He reaches up reflexively to rub his neck where he can almost feel the pressure of hands wrapping around jaw and shoulder, wrenching his spine and ending his life. Well… sort of. He and Liu Kang had recently come face to face with their revenants and, while they, the living Shaolin, had been successful, seeing himself, torn, ashen, cracked like the earth after a volcanic eruption, with such deep hatred in his eyes… it had been, to say the least, jarring. 

 It jars him even now as he observes his own, sharp, dark eyes in the pond once more. A fish surfaces to beg for food, prodding at the leaf. Unsatisfied, it sinks once more, flashing its beautiful orange-and-white body once and disappearing in the depths.

 “How can I release something that is part of me?” He tilts his head back, running his hand over his bare scalp, feeling the growth of a few days, craving a razor. He has become so accustomed to a lack of hair that any little bit makes the leather cap he often wears begin to chafe. Today, it is absent as he and the others have been instructed to rest before the assault on Kronika’s keep—the realm and home of a titan. He does not relish the thought of entering Netherrealm on his own steam, but it is, he thinks, perhaps a bit better than doing it on someone else’s watch. 

 Supposedly they will, if all goes as planned, be utilizing Kharon’s fleet to sail the blood sea. The ferryman of hell can evidently be persuaded to help them right the wrongs Kronika has committed upon the people of this timeline (and evidently many others, though his understanding of such things is beneath what one might call rudimentary). For once, Lao is content with the “it is not for us to know” explanation. Thinking about this, about any of it, makes his head spin. And spinning is usually his specialty. 

 Of himself, he thinks he has done well, has kept his cool as best he can, has done anything and everything Raiden has asked of him, would gladly do it again now that he has seen the god’s power in action properly and has gotten to know Raiden the way Liu Kang always has (or the way his faith has propelled him to believe and thence to know). Lao is, at least for now, somewhat content with the work he has done. He has contributed to a real, tangible cause and that does, indeed, feel good. But it is not good enough. It does not settle entirely upon his restless spirit. He cannot decide if it is his doubting nature, or if it is something else which drives him now to continue this one-sided dialogue.

 “Do you know why my parents named me Lao?” His smile is harsh and bitter, like the rare sunlight over Arctika. In theory, it is the sun, but in practice, it is little more than chilly, diffuse illumination. Lao pauses as if waiting for a reply, but the fish and the breeze offer none, so he continues. “A prophecy.” His shoulders sag and he slumps a little, staring at his hands. They are strong hands, calloused and scarred with many healed cuts—and some not-so-healed. They have served him well, but, like everything else in his life never well enough. “I think they just wanted me to be like my ancestor, you know? The Great Kung Lao—so they call me Lao and hope that I… do not dishonor him.”

 He allows the silence to hang in the air, accompanied only by the burble of the stream and small waterfall that feeds the pond, the whisper of leaves dancing in a light breeze, and whatever sound sunlight makes when it falls gently upon the earth. In the distance, he might, were he to concentrate, hear the voices of his friends, but his attention is only upon the here and now, directed inward. 

 “They are more worried about being dishonored themselves.” Lao scoffs, leaning back and watching the sky overhead. Large, fluffy clouds glide serenely above, unaware of the turmoil in his heart—perhaps uncaring. He wishes he could let it go. He wishes he too could simply cease caring and simply do his duty as the ideal, humble monk. “But I cannot,” he growls, “because I AM not. I… fear and I doubt and I fight harder than anyone else just to be… second best.” If that.

 Orphan or not, Liu Kang should have been named after the Great Kung Lao. It is he who carries the legacy, even if Lao bears the name and the blood. Much rests upon that name in their ancient and venerated clan, so there is much to dishonor. Lao has become skilled at repeatedly doing just that, whether he means to or not. It is difficult to say what, if anything specific, had been the “final straw” which pushed him toward the rank of black sheep, sacred name and all. 

 At least I am not the only disappointment in the family, he thinks bitterly. It is an unkind reflection and, though he has only actually met his nephew a handful of times, briefly, and of course when the boy had been much younger than he likely is now, he does not equate their struggles. All the same, he considers, I would become his friend, I think… if I survive this.

 Plans for return are far from his mind. In fact, Lao has come to grips with the fact that he will not be coming home at all. “That should bring the honor I was missing all these years,” he opines, stretching his legs out to either side of the rocky edge of the pond and bending over them, stretching his limbs and breathing deeply, trying to follow Raiden’s imaginary advice. Even without the thunder god’s pedantic scolding, Lao knows that this, too, is a selfish thought and centers himself to banish it, as well. He finds himself attempting to banish many thoughts these days, and they are only coming on more strongly. 

 Bending first to one side and then the other, Lao stretches, breathes, and then sits back up, straightening and re-folding his legs. The sunlight glints off the edge of his hat, still lodged in the earth nearby as he lays his hands in his lap in the old meditative pose, closing his eyes. His chest expands and contracts with forced slowness, all effort concentrating into wrangling, controlling, and releasing the thoughts which buzz about his mind like bees. Outwardly, he is the picture of serenity, the perfect monk.

 He supposes that this is how it must remain. Until he can prove himself worthy, he will always be the number two Shaolin. That is not what rankles him most, however. It is that Liu Kang is absolutely his biggest fan, his most ardent supporter, and actually listens to him when he does express doubt. How can he harbor any harsh feelings toward or in relation to someone like that? 

 I love him, he thinks, and he’s going to walk right into his death… I will follow him, because that is what I always do. If Liu Kang is the lamb to slaughter, then what does that make him? What abbertoire awaits them in Netherrealm? Is Raiden yet again leading them into a massacre? His hands are balled into fists upon his lap and the meditative serenity is lost. He feels tears sting the corners of his eyes. 

 “I love you, Liu Kang.” And it is too damn late to do anything about it.

[emperorsfoot]

abandoned Star Wars fic #1

This was an AU I started a while back (2014) based off the pre-Disney Buyout version of the Expanded universe. It’s basically just “what if Luke did join the Empire like he was discussing with Owen and Beru back in A New Hope?”

My original plan was for the fic to be a trilogy, following the same main events of the original trilogy. I abandoned it because I got discouraged (for the same reason I always get discouraged when writing fic for a fandom that’s been around since the dawn of time), because the Star Wars fandom is so big and there are so many amazingly talented writers in it that this AU has probably already been written, and probably written better than I could ever write it. 

So, I never even posted it. 

Until now... 

(Oh! Also, it was gonna be a Luke/Mara ship. All my Star Wars fics are Luke/Mara.)

...

[ImpPilot]

Chapter One:

"I'd like three quarters of my pay to go to this account, please. If I can do that." Luke asked. 

Even heading strait to the Fleet's financial office immediately after his graduation ceremony instead of going out to celebrate with his bunkmates, it still took an absurd two and a half hours before he could see an actual officer -nothing more than a glorified accountant, really. 

"You'll meed to fill out form 6-23-A." Without even looking up from his personal terminal, the financial officer passed Luke a data pad with the blank form already open on it. "You're not the first boy wanting to send money home to his silver-haired mommy. Be sure all the routing numbers are correct and specify whether or not its a savings or checking account, or if its a business account. For business accounts you'll need to fill out an additional form."

"Uh… I think its a domestic checking account…" Luke said. More thinking out loud than actually speaking to the officer. The moisture farm was, technically, a business, but he didn’t think Tattooine was sophisticated enough for business accounts. At least, not reputable ones. 

"There's a terminal in the lobby you can use if you need to call home and ask. Regular holo-net fees apply -which this office will not compensate you for." Once again, the financial officer did not look up from his desk. 

Right. As if Uncle Owen would even answer. Neither he nor Aunt Beru had answered any of his calls since he left home and signed up with the Fleet. 

But they just didn't understand. Luke couldn't spend his life in the day to day routine of moisture farming, watching the rest of the Galaxy turn around him. He wanted to get out and get away. See the world beyond the backwater dust-ball of his childhood and explore brave new worlds in his adulthood. But the Lars hadn't have much money and it wasn't like Luke's late parents (of which very little was spoken of) had seen fit to leave either him or his guardians any money or property of value, there were little avenues or opportunities open to him to get off world. In fact, there were only two possible ways for a poor desert brat like him to get off world. 

Join up with a pirate or smugglers crew. Or sign up with the Imperial Space Navy. 

So, Luke chose the lesser to two evils. 

He signed up for the navy.

At least it was legal. 

He went out early the morning of his sixteenth birthday after his mind was made up. Sneaking out of the farm house and into the garage, Luke intended to take the speeder into Anchorhead. Owen was waiting for him in the garage. Intent to stop him. Apparently, his sneaking wasn't too stealthy. 

He gave a speech about the stupidity of what he was about to do. That it was foolish and he was just fixing to get himself killed. That he was just like his father -he was a damn fool too!- and that he would just end up hurting everyone else who cared about him. Luke ignored everything his uncle had to say though. His mind was made up and there was nothing Uncle Owen could do to stop him. 

Aunt Beru was a bit gentler with him, but still just as disapproving. She met him outside the garage, as he was trying to maneuver the speeder around the complex. She brought him a sandwich lovingly wrapped, as if he were just going out to do maintenance on the vaporators. She asked Luke not to think poorly of his Uncle, he was just trying to protect him. There was a war on and the reason why the Fleet was so eager to lock new recruits into contracts was because they needed more and more bodied every day. That's all he would be to the Navy, just another body to throw into the war. 

That time Luke did pause. He placed his hand over hers, resting on the side of the speeder. He assured her that this was something he had to do and that he wouldn't die the death of a nameless soldier. He couldn't explain how or why, but he could feel it. This was something he had to do, and he would not become just another body counted in the war. He would be something. 

Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say, because a shadow of fear crossed her face. But it was there and gone in the space of a second. She turned her hand, resting under his and grabbed his wrist, stronger than he thought she was capable of. "Don't… don't use the name Skywalker." She said suddenly. "Its a common name out here on the Rim, but it's a dangerous name to have closer to the Empire. Don't enlist under Skywalker. Use our name. Use Lars."

Luke blinked at her. "Why?"

But she didn't answer and he was in to much of a hurry to wait and pester her. 

That was the last he ever heard from either of them. Neither his aunt or uncle either called him or returned any of his calls during his time at the Academy. There was no reason to assume they would answer the comm for him now. In fact, Luke wasn't even sure if they would take his money now that he would actually be earning some. But they had raised him. And the farm wasn't easy or cheap to maintain. Maybe with the extra money, his uncle could hire a few more hands to help them out. 

Luke just filled out the form the best that he could and handed it back to financial officer. 

"Alright, Lars, your request should be processed in another eight to ten standard days. Everything should be in order by the time for first earning statement is payed." He said looking over the datapad. "Oh, and you forgot to fill out your pilot designation."

"Oh. Right, sorry. Its DS-42-6."

The officer began typing as Luke spoke, filling in the missing information on mental auto-pilot. "D… S… -Wait? DS? Death Star? They assigned a green kid like you to the Death Star!?" He gaped up at the kid, actually looking at him for the first time. 

"Top pilot in my graduating class." Luke said, not at all ashamed of the pride that seeped into his voice. Being the top flight student was a significant achievement and not even Uncle Owen could deny that. "I guess they wanna deploy their best people on the most important postings."

"What was that number again?"

"Squad forty-two, pilot number six." He answered. 

"Well, Luke Lars, I imagine you going far.

…

Most of Luke's bunkmates went out to celebrate their graduation almost immediately after the ceremonies. That meant that they all had a few hours head start on him and would probably be to faded to be good company when he did arrive. But that still didn't stop Luke from stopping in at the tapcaf they agreed on for their after grad party. 

As to be expected, of the twelve men Luke had shared a barracks with for the past two years, only three of them remained when he walked through the door. One of them was just paying his tab, a woman Luke had never seen before under one arm.

"I'm telling ya, baby, I ship out tonight." He was saying to her. "Oh, hey Lars, ya made it! A bit late. Maybe you can scoop Vard and Ika up off the floor."

He left. 

Vard and Ika were leaning over a table against the back wall. With a sigh, Luke crossed the tapcaff to assess them. Of the twelve bunkmates that Luke actually got along with, Ika was probably the closest one he would come to calling a 'best friend'. They weren't nearly as close as Luke had been with Biggs, but then, Biggs had to go off and desert on his first tour and place Luke in an uncomfortable situation with ISB right at the start of his second year at the Academy. Some great friend he turned out to be. 

But Luke wasn't gonna think about that now. This was the eve of his graduation from the Imperial Naval Academy. This was a happy day. Even if he was about to spend it taking care of his two drunk bunkmates that -in all likelihood- he would never see again. With a conscious effort, Luke pushed Biggs from his mind. 

Ika seemed to be past out on the table. A disposable coaster his only cushion against the hard plasteel and vinyl of the tabletop. Vard was at least sitting mostly vertical, but by the looks of it no less drunk. He used one hand to prop his face up while the other shot into the air in an unnecessarily showy greeting. He flailed spastically. "Hey! Look who made it!"

"A bit late, I think." Luke said as he slid into the booth next to Ika. 

"Nah. I's cool. We'll just get a new bottle." He flagged down a serving droid. "Another round for me and my buddies. And make the late arrivals a double -to make up for lost time."

"Belay that." He said to the droid. Luke just shook his head. He was in no mood to get drunk tonight. The fact that he was to report for transport and deployment absurdly in the morning or risk missing the boat aside, he just had a feeling it was in his best interest not to get completely sloshed. "We'll have a round of caff instead. And make their's a double." 

Vard scoff. "Ya know, Lars, for a guy who never had a daddy growing up, you act an awful lot like my father." With no small amount of effort, he pushed himself to his feet and jerkily maneuvered out of the booth. "Forget this. I'm going to finish cleaning out my bunk."

Staggering mildly, he made his way to the door, where he flagged down a transport. Well, at least he would be safe taxieing back to base.

Luke turned to look at Ika. He should probably call a transport for him too. 

Standing, Luke crossed to the public holo-net, passing a very pretty red-head on his way and he lamented the fact that he had to take care of his drunkard friend. She probably wouldn't want to stay and chat with someone who associated with rowdy or irresponsible soldiers like them. Suppressing a sigh, he dialed the public transport company's number that had been very boldly posted over the terminal's key-pad and ordered a taxi to take Ika (and probably him too) back to base. 

It didn't take long for the transport to arrive and when it did, Luke helped the driver carry his passed-out friend into the back seat. But Luke didn't feel much like going along. He had come to this tapcaff expecting a party -it was the eve of his graduation, after all- he felt he was entitled to at least some form of celebration. Luke payed the transport driver and went back into the tapcaff.

It was only after he sat back down at their table that the serving droid appeared with their three cups of caff. 

Luke's face fell into the palm of his hand.

The pretty red-head by the holo-net terminal gave an amused laugh. 

Luke looked back at her and their eyes met over the empty tapcaff. Her eyes were brilliant, and deep, and very very green. The bottom dropped out of his stomach as he felt a wonderful and glittering feeling of exhilaration at the fact that a pretty girl was looking at him with a smile. That glittering feeling was quickly scrubbed away, however, when Luke remembered that he had no idea how to talk to girls. 

Back home, he'd hung out with Fixer's girlfriend. But that was always in a group setting and besides, she was already in a relationship with someone. There were a few female cadets at the Academy. But you didn't talk to them like girls unless you wanted to get punched in the dick. Luke really didn't wanna get punched in the dick by the pretty red-head.

Perhaps he hesitated a little to long after their eyes met because the red-head picked up her own drink and crossed the room to sit at his booth. "You gonna drink all those, Cadet?"

Oh, crap. The pretty girl was talking to him. What should he say? Should he make a joke? Or play it strait? Did girls like funny men, or strait forward men? Well, whatever he said, he better say something soon. Luke suddenly realized that his silence was stretching on into awkward territory. "Uh, uh… I, uh… Its 'Pilot'."

"What?" She blinked at him with those deep, sparkling, emerald green eyes. 

"I'm not a Cadet anymore." I explained quickly, his ears coloring self-consciously. "I graduated today. Now I'm a Pilot."

"Oh. I see. A pilot." She gave one of those smiles people give when they're humoring a small child and Luke suddenly felt like he had already messed up with this girl. The flushing of his ears spread to his cheeks. She must have noticed the blush (then again, how could she not?), because she took pity on him. "You're not very good at this, are you?"

Luke blinked. "Uh, not good at what?"

"Flirting." She said as if this should have been obvious. "Chatting up women. Attempting to entice them to leave with you. Shore leave doesn't last forever and you can't afford to waste time. I assume you're shipping out tomorrow?"

"Y-yes." He nodded. 

"So you've got, what, maybe seven hours before you have to report to your transport."

"Well, yes, actually." Luke had to pause. She knew an awful lot about military logistics. But then again, this was an Academy town. The locals must be used to young soldier-boys coming and going and trying to pick up their young women in between. 

"Well, Pilot, I've got even less time than that." She informed him, running a finger over the rim of one of the untouched caff mugs. "Ya see, I just came here for a quick job and now that the jobs done, I've only got a couple hours before I have to be lifting off and flying out."

"Oh, do you work for a shipping company?" Luke asked. Work was a polite subject to discuss, right?

She just shook her head, her red hair cascading round her shoulders in elegant waves. "No, no, you're getting this all wrong." She said. "Listen, Pilot, I have to ship out soon, you have to ship out soon. You're cute. I'm hot. And we're both lonely. You can't take me back to your barracks, and I won't take you to my ship. So, I was thinking of maybe one of those pay-by-the-hour places down the street from the port. We share a couple hours together, then go our separate ways. I don't tell you my name, you don't tell me your pilot designation."

Luke just blinked at her. It… it sounded like she was trying to proposition him. The blush on his face colored to almost scarlet. Oh, the things Aunt Beru would have to say if she heard this. "I… I'm sorry, Ma'am, but I don't do that sort of thing. I, uh, I wasn't brought up that way. But… if you like, I'll treat you to dinner."

With a sigh, the woman leaned back in her seat. "I don't suppose I've got the time to hunt down a better deal. Alright, Pilot, a chase little dinner date it'll be."

Finally feeling balanced for the first time since she sat down, Luke flagged down the serving droid. "Two menus, please."

She learned forward, resting her chin in her hand. "Well, Pilot, you're the first man to ever refuse my offer. So, either you're a perfect gentleman -which thought were just creatures of pure myth- or else I'm not your type of company." 

"Oh, I know I'm not a perfect gentleman." Luke assured her. He was idealistic and given over to fantasies and delusions of grandeur. Definitely not perfect. "But my aunt did raise me to be respectful."

"Good aunt." She took a sip of one of the abandoned cups of caff. 

"So…" Luke began awkwardly. "If you don't tell me your name, and I'm not allowed to tell you my pilot designation… what are we gonna talk about?"

"Good question." She nodded, tapping her bottom lip in thought. "What made you decide to become a pilot?"

"I was a little short for a Stormtrooper." He joked. "But actually, I always wanted to be a pilot. My father was a navigator on a spice freighter and a navigator is basically a co-pilot."

...

AND THAT’S ALL SHE WROTE!

That was Mara Jade sitting with him at the tap caff, BTW. Luke wasn’t gonna see her again until after the destruction of the Death Star. 

Vader was gonna “sense a ripple in the Force” once Luke arrived on the Deathstar for his tour of duty. But he wasn’t actually going to take note of Luke specifically until Obi-Wan, Han, and... BIGGS DARKLIGHTER break onto the Deathstar to rescue Leia. 

In this AU, Biggs lives. He’s the one who makes the shot that destroys the Deathstar.

Luke and Vader are the only survivors. 

After their fighters (Vader’s TIE Advanced, and Luke’s shitty regular live-1 TIE fighter) are picked up by another Imperial ship, Vader confronts Luke face-to-mask.

Luke’s all like “I wanted to be a pilot because of my father.”

To which Vader replies “Owen Lars has never been, nor will he ever be, a pilot.” (Remember: Luke enlisted under the name “Lars”.)

Luke should be confused by Vader knowing so much about his uncle, but Luke’s also kinda dumb. So he just assumed Vader read his personnel file. He get’s all self-conscious and confesses to enlisting under a different name. Owen Lars is actually his uncle, not his father. His father’s name was Skywalker. 

Vader doesn’t visibly react, but behind his mask he’s just like, “OH SHIT!”

And that’s where the “A New Hope” volume of this AU was gonna end. 

[pixelsareforsketchbooks]

A score for a diffractive dialogue on joy and sadness

This is a score for two people. A dialogue. A vocal and vagal experiment which hopes to lead you both forward and backwards, inwards and outwards, at the same time.

1. Sit down on the floor with your back to your partner.

Your backs should be touching.

If you cannot touch your partner then your back should be against a sturdy flat surface, like a wall.

2. Take a deep breath in together

3. Hum in a low tone as you both slowly exhale.

Breathe in whenever you need to, but also breathe in when your partner breathes in

As you exhale your bodies should fall into each other, so that the other is bearing your weight more and more.

4. Your bodies will begin to slide downwards. Lower and lower and until you are both lying down. Your heads are side by side, in the crook of the other’s shoulder, looking at the ceiling. (Or if you are not in the same physical space as your partner, maybe you are on the ground by yourself, but think and feel your partners presence.)

5. Say or sing a lyric from a song. Just the first one that comes to mind.

It doesn’t matter who goes first.

If your lyric was in the form of a question, your partner can leave it as it is.

If your lyric was not in the form of a question, your partner should re-formulate it as a question.

Examples: ‘How deep is your love?’ - Leave as is. ‘Jump out of bed and stumble in the kitchen’ - Why do you jump out of bed in the morning? ‘At first I was afraid I was petrified’ - What are you not afraid of anymore?

6. After one person says or sings a lyric, the other person asks your lyric question.

The same question is asked 7 times.

After each time you will answer the question until you run out of things to say. The partner says ‘Thank You’ and asks again.

7. Once this is done the other partner says or sings whatever lyric comes to them first, and the first person makes it into a question. Then repeat step 6.

8. You may alternate and repeat steps 5 and 6 for as long as you want. You may also alternate asking your own lyric question to your partner instead of vice-versa, or you can take tuns and ask each other the same questions

9. End the score by first sitting up and then standing and then shaking your whole body as you express anything you want from your mouth. (Humming, howling, AHHHHHH-ing)

SONGS ARE LIKE A TIME MACHINE

- Anushka Nair

I've asked friends and acquaintances who are friends to perform this score. I have yet to ask a stranger. Maybe some strangers will see this blog and perform it. Maybe they will tell me they did. Maybe they will tell one of their friends to try and it will come back to me in someway.

The initial performers of this score were Luiza and Anushka. Afterwards we spoke and this idea of the time machine came up. This diffracted from other ideas I have had about songs as vessels, portholes, or emotive non-tangible objects. Music and the voice are both elusive of and attached to time/space. "the audible is constantly in motion, disappearing as it appears." (Benjamin, 2018)I was thinking of them before as transporters of emotion, but they are also transporters of memory, similar to the way smells are. Interestingly, both smell and hearing belong to the intangible realm of the senses. After further performances which I observed through video or in person, I spoke more with each of the partners after the experience. Finally, I chose to perform the score myself, with a close collaborator and friend. It was here that this idea of the time machine became clear.

The lyric that came to me in that moment was:

Strangers

Waiting

Up and down the boulevard

When asked by my partner "What are strangers waiting for on the boulevard?" I was instantly transported to a place near where i grew up.... It was the parking lot and park at the end of a of street called Magnolia Boulevard. I have no memories of the song from my childhood, but somehow every experience I had had in this location compressed into one and then expanded and infinite storylines of what could happen in this space appeared. And it was all heavily encapsulated in the sweet warm air of a summer night. These moments were both fleeting and concrete experiences and despite the grounding comfort of my friend's warm shoulder I floated amongst them.

Here is an audio clip from this part of the score. set to a video of the original song makers. I'll call it: Journey to Diffraction

Sadly, as with the other documentation, I don't think the score works in recorded form or really outside the two participants. Therefore it feels truly like an intra-action. Happening within the space created by the participants, deflecting observation.

A Diffractive Dialogue between a

Past and Present Self

One of the central items of my research box, as well as my main source for the autoethnographic research I am doing, is a journal which I kept between the ages of 13-16. The journal is first-hand documentation of the commencement of my sexual life, from my first kiss to the 'loss of my virginity' or as I would call it now, my first experience of penis-in-vagina sex. (Virginity is a social construct and thus not something one can loose. I consider it actually a gaining of experience. This view, I can confirm based on my re-reading of this journal and an interview with my sister, was precisely how I felt about it then too. ) In addition to the standard teenage turmoil and vast number of boys names, the journal is filled with song lyrics, which I found meaningful at the time.

Thinking once more about using songs as a time machine, I thought it might be interesting to performa a version of the above score, but the two people would be my present self, and my teenage self who wrote this journal, carefully listening to her favourite songs in order to write their lyrics in her journal.

I recorded the video and edited it a bit to add to the feeling of there being a dialogue taking place. The experience was very fulfilling, however it felt less like a trip to the past, and more like a springboard into the future, powered by the culmination of experience.

The lyrics I chose from my journal were:

'Prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will grow old'

'It makes me feel so good to always tell you when you're wrong'

'You and I should get away for a while, I just wanna be alone with your smile'

While writing a reflection on the workshop I participated in with the director of Via Berlin, I came to the conclusion that it was impossible for me to be vulnerable with just myself, as my vulnerabilities exist in the context of others. However, watching this video back, I do get a sense of vulnerability and surprise at myself and my answers. I am not sure how it will read to the viewer, but I am excited to reflect more on how I might enter a dialogue with different parts of myself in my future practice.

Benjamin, L. ‘Rewriting the Gaze: Hearing Sex in Cinema’ (2018) MAI: Feminism & Visual Culture, 12 September. Available at: https://maifeminism.com/rewriting-the-gaze-hearing-sex-in-cinema/ (Accessed: 25 March 2021).

[ghostgetter]

hi idea i want to write but am too lazy to compile:

there needs to be a klance canon divergent au of lance idk, being manipulated by druid magic or possibly (and i like this idea better) post-undercover mission instructed by shiro and getting caught, trying to escape in his ship (not Blue) and it crashing and a galra leader blowing it up and Lotor (who, since i have watched one episode, is Bad To Me) finds him near-death after being begrudgingly ordered to kill him, but with n o m e m o r y of anything - he thinks his name is Tailor until Lotor comes to the conclusion by galaxy rumors that his name is Lance - and is thus coined a ~*~*~perfect right-hand man~*~*~, a perfect soldier, who has all the muscle memory of an excellent pilot and shooter but no recollection of his home or his family or his life or his friends, so nothing to hold him back from getting the job done.

And Lotor takes him under his wing to not exactly work with the galra (because he’s a prince damn it he has earned his place to take control of what he can and will not be ordered by shitty galra lieutenants) but still do Bad Things. He’s got Acxa and others and essentially overthrow governments for their team, collecting weapons and information and money and the like (but Lotor is sending most of this to Zarkon for control blah blah complications whatever)

Meanwhile the team is like, totally distraught. Nearly fallen apart. They have a funeral for Lance because they have no reason to think he’s alive. Keith, who had a fleeting moment with Lance a few days prior, who had developed feelings for him, blames Shiro for his death. Hunk’s furious with the team in general and demands they go home. Pidge is immensely sad and stops sleeping because she lost another brother figure. Shiro doesn’t blame Keith for being angry and agrees this is his fault. Keith’s being extra-“let’s throw my life on the line every mission who gives a shit anymore” until he and Shiro have a Serious Talk. Allura is reluctant but forces herself to attach to Blue, whom is also relectant (they later find out it’s cus Lance Is Alive and Blue Wants Her Paladin).

Anyway Kolivan, leader of the BOM, who Keith has been occassionally working under for more missions to kill himself in, comes to the castle of lions with news about the galra a few months after Lance’s death. He requests their help with stopping a side group of galra who don’t seem to be directly working with Zarkon but are on the map in a massive way and causing havoc and know team voltron wanna be involved. Allura is automatically in but Hunk is so fucking done he wants to go home. He wants to go to Cuba and see Mrs McClain and apologize and cry about their son. And then Kolivan pulls out a tablet that reveals a hologram of Lance.

Lance, in a bright purple uniform, a scar from his temple to his brow, hoisting a galra-styled rifle and perched on a futuristic building, aiming below, clearly unaware of his photo being taken. Alive.

And Keith snatches the tablet from Kolivan “when was this taken?”

“Three days ago.”

Anyway so Team Voltron and BOM team up immediately to get Lance but BOM’s goal is Lotor and the other galra Keith and Hunk (and Shiro, who is still very guilty) are all “we’re getting Lance and regrouping fuck this.” They end up on a planet untouched by Zarkon but in near chaos cus of Lotor’s team, and the BOM are chasing some of the galra in their ships, losing em, and team voltron are also in ships (not the lions), and Keith’s chasing Lotor but then his ship gets slammed into and it’s Lance, he just knows, so he has Shiro and Kolivan continue after Lotor while he chases Lance. He shoots out a cable that catches onto Lance’s ship and forces it to (roughly) land and he runs out of his ship to get Lance, who’s stumbling out

and Keith calls out to him and Lance shoots him.

Keith is able to dodge it enough so it grazes him but Lance quickly shoots at the cable attached to his ship to get it off and runs back in before escaping.

And in his sheer disbelief of what just happened, he hears on the coms that Lotor also escaped, and Hunk and Pidge’s ship crashed, and this was a fucking mess, and Lance looked right at him and just shot him, what the hell -

Anyway lots of heists and chasing and Keith has Pidge catch wind of Lance at an underground hover cycle race on a planet with lots of crime (Lance had ditched Lotor and his team for some air as things were getting Tense between him and Lotor, who was usually very on top of Lance in a protective, possessive way that was kinda creepy but also not necessarily Bad, unlike now where Lotor is being possessive and gross and Lance was starting to question things because Blue was trying to communicate with him through quintessence as the Castle Ship kinda hovered nearer and nearer and Allura was trying to expand it???? idk i don’t watch this show does this make sense lmao) and Keith heads off there alone and sees him in his natural habitat and it’s almost like???? he was the same person? It’s post race and he rips off his helmet, cocky and smirking at an alien that he just beat. mouthing off to him and shooting finger guns at the crowd and winking and Keith’s heart soothes because shit, it’s Lance.

And Lance is getting ready to leave - he’s collected his winnings and such and he’s pulling out and Keith drives up to him and takes his helmet off and Lance double takes. And is like “um, hello?”

And Keith has, no idea, maybe it’s the cocky smirk he saw, but he revs his engine and says: “I hear you’re pretty good at racing around here.”

Lance laughs, sudden startlement pushed aside by amusement. “I’d say I’m the best pilot they’ve seen.”

“Wanna test that theory?”

And Lance is confused because like, he shot this guy? “Do you have a death wish or something, man?”

“Maybe,” Keith smirks. “I just wanna race.”

Lance blinks once, twice, then scoffs. Turns forward, “Fine. Your funeral.”

“This’ll be fun,” Keith turns forward as well. “Lance and Keith, neck and neck, remember?”

And Lance looks at him, because no, what the fuck? No he doesn’t.

Anyway they race through the city streets. It is indeed: Lance and Keith, Neck and Neck. Lance comes to the conclusion that this Keith is immensely fucking good at racing. But so is Lance, who bypasses him on a few turns, of course until they start getting tailed by the city’s law enforcement. And Keith, who’s fucking crazy, is able to turn his bike around and force them to crash, and then pass Lance in reverse, and take the lead.

And win.

And Lance is pissed but he takes this loss and pulls out into an open field and Keith and him bicker a bit about the race and Keith criticizes him but also “but you got better with the accelerating. You just break too much on turns. You do that when you pilot, too.”

“I’m confused. So you know how I pilot, now?”

“Yeah, I know how you pilot. I know you.”

“No, you don’t,” Lance argues. “You don’t know me.”

“You’re a pilot, you’re good with a gun -”

“Everyone knows that,” Lance cuts in. “Everyone on this planet knows that. I made a name for myself here. That doesn’t mean you know anything about me—”

“I know you’re from Cuba, on Earth.” Keith argues back. “I know you have a large family. I know you love the ocean, and that you miss rain.”

Lance is quiet, then, “I don’t remember rain.”

“Maybe not. But I can help you remember it.”

And at this point they’ve gotten closer and they’re talking and Lance asks where he got the scar on his face “if you know me so well” and Keith tells him the story, breezing over their moment and tells him about Shiro, and fighting the galra, and that Lance is a paladin of -

And in comes Lotor, his ship coming in from above and landing, him and another Galra, and call out to Lance, in a calm, orderly fashion and Keith and Lance both freeze. Lotor tells Lance to meet at the randezvous point and Lance hesitates until Lotor repeats himself, and Lance sighs, looks at Keith and salutes him, and gets on his hoverbike with one last look before driving off to get to the ship he docked and fly off.

And then Lotor and Keith face off. Not fighty but more argumentative. And Lotor expresses just how much control he has over Lance, who’s so flighty lately since Voltron got involved and it’s agitating, and Lotor offers information on inside Galra war plans in exchange for Keith and his team to back off.

“And Lance?”

Lotor eyes him. “He stays.”

“Then no.”

And Keith takes out his sword because he’s honestly had it with Lotor and then he sees Lotor brought more than just one Galra, but another humanoid-alien, who comes out aiming a laser at Keith. And then bam bam Hunk appears from Yellow, who he took down to follow after Keith because fuck you, Lance is his best friend he wants him back, canon bayard loaded and trained on Lotor.

Anyway no harm comes from it and then after a battle happens with the Lions and Lance being forced to eject from the warship with a few others and join the fight and Lance is Not Feeling This (he feels super connected to Blue and Lotor is on his ass about Keith and Lance Does Not Remember fuck off). Keith sees this and has Red get close to Lance, with Shiro and everyone yelling at him, and he propells to Lance’s ship outta the jaw of Red and has Red back outta the line of fire, and somehow blah blah, gets into Lance’s ship. And Lance is like ?????? but then immediately sees that Lotor is aiming a canon at them and they’re gonna blow up and they do, until Red comes in and snatches them up. Keith is unconscious. Lance is confused. He sees Team Voltron on the vid cam and doesn’t know what’s happening. He tries to explain what Lotor’s doing and that Keith got knocked out with the blast and he’s so confused and why is the yellow guy crying, what’s going on, until Allura tries to get Lance to pilot Red, and Lance argues with her a bit while settling Keith in what looks like a seconadry pilot chair that miraculously popped up. And then Lance, like, hears this Lion-thing? Speaking to him??? And he pilots Red and Lotor escapes and they go back to the castle of Lions, get Keith into a pod, and everyone hugs Lance, who still doesn’t???? Understand????

Anyway. Long story short. He re-meets the team. Joins the fight. Pilots Blue again, who he confesses to have been hearing in some sorta abyss for the last month. Has a heart to heart with Shiro. Cries with Hunk. Re-falls for Keith. Big battle. He gets his memory back later. The end.

[peachymess]

He chose friendship

After finally having visited the final exhibition in Tokyo myself, I’m left with a lot of thoughts. First of all: the exhibition was amazing! All the coverage of it does not do it justice! The videos made for this event, were stunning! And they have several important artifacts from the story on display in 1:1 scale that just gave me all the feels. Armin’s book, pages open, was lying less than two meters away from me, for instance! I wasn’t even aware they had his book until a few days beforehand, when I saw an image of it by pure chance! I went 4 times, and I could go again. A+!

Anyways, I’ll gush about my trip later. Right now, I want to tell you guys about something I picked up on that I really want to share. You see, I didn’t expect a lot of answers going in; the coverage had already show and told us what the exhibition was all about. And no, I still have no clue what that ending sound is… But I – quite surprisingly  – think I found the answer to the question posed on Armin’s wall. I’m sure you’ve seen it. Red background, seashell in hand. The nerve wrecking words: “is it truth or friendship that he has chosen to believe in?” like the truth is now in opposition with his personal relationships…

Well, I’m here to tell you I know the answer. Let’s just skip right to it: Armin chose friendship.

Here’s why:  

Truth is fleeting. It changes from person to person, based on the deciphering key we use to read the world around us. Truth is a construct. It is what we decide it is. Take Armin’s speech to Annie about good and bad people; it’s the same thing: one person’s action is in truth, both a good thing and a bad thing – depending on who’s looking. If Annie had chosen not to help Armin, she would – in truth – have made a non-beneficial choice. To Armin. However, that same choice, was a beneficial one – to Annie. Her choice is both beneficial, and not – but not both. Just either or, equally, depending on point of view. Two realities, both true. Truth is truly fleeting.

…That’s one way of seeing it anyways. I’m not here to start a philosophical discussion with you. I do, personally, largely subscribe to the abovementioned way of seeing it. However, whether you do or not, is irrelevant here. Because, the exhibition (and the story of SNK) very clearly, tells its visitors that this is how truth works in SNK. The notion of truth being fleeting, is explicitly confirmed as (ironically enough) true, for the SNK universe. As a matter of fact, the entire exhibition seems to have as objective to make you understand just how amputated your understanding of life is, if you lead your life with “one truth” as your compass. The exhibition fronts the duality of reality seen from “growing up inside the walls” vs “growing up outside the walls” almost to an awkwardly spoon-feeding degree. “Truth” is the weakest card, we get it.

As you enter the “paths room”, this is literally the writing on the wall:

By now you know,

that the “truth” is not the only one

in this world.

 But one thing that is for sure

Is that you were born here

 So, you can continue

to choose your own reality.

So, you can carry on progressing

until you burn out the life

you’ve been born with.

What I’m trying to say here, is that after setting Armin’s dilemma up in a way that’s supposed to sound difficult, the exhibition gives the answer away by thoroughly deconstructing “truth” to the degree that it’s barely tangible enough to “choose”.  

Listen, when you read the question, you wondered, didn't you? What the answer would be? Or if you didn’t, didn’t you at least entertain the idea that both “truth” and “friendship” are strong contenders for Armin’s core? Because they are. Almost; Armin is soft for his friends and for general kindness. He has a very human, very gentle side to him. The same side that dreams of far away places where lights dance in the sky and where you can walk on miles and miles of sand and ice – and much, much more. But he also has a cynical side to him, one that says the end justifies the means and that he should throw anything way (including love and kindness) on a personal level if that’s what’s required for the greater good. This side shoots women in the face without hesitation when, in the grand scheme of things, it is beneficial. The same side sees the benefit in having his friend eaten if he poses a threat to all mankind (sidenote: just because he can see such a benefit does not mean he wishes for it; I can see the benefit in going to the gym but it doesn’t mean I want to go). Basically, there is a duality in Armin: he is both full of love for life and people, and simultaneously ready to throw it away and turn cynical in order to pursue what’s “right”. So when those two sides are set up against each other, which side comes out on top?

That’s basically what the question at the exhibition is trying to make you think; that the current events of the story is making it impossible to hold on to both – that the “truth” is that he has to oppose Eren in order to achieve a positive outcome – or that the only way to hold on to Eren is by directly acting against his better judgment.

However, it’s easy to poke holes in this supposed problem: for starters, “truth” is not a strong representative for Armin’s cynical side at all. If there’s one character who’s explicitly opposed a fixed truth, it’s Armin (read: his speech to Annie). His strong desire to communicate with others also tell us that he’s open to the idea that things may look different from others’ point of view. Armin isn’t pursuing truth, because he doesn’t believe it’s fixed. Actually, it’s almost the opposite: he already knows his own truth, so he keeps trying to seek out others’ in order to expand/change his own. Basically, Armin already know the lesson that the final exhibition is trying to teach us: that “the truth” is a weak concept. So between “truth” and “friendship”, Armin will have no problem picking actual human relations with high chances of a positive outcome (based on context), over… something that can’t even really be pinpointed; truth. Hell, it even changes from person to person, so what truth would he be choosing?

 “Ok, so maybe they phrased that badly. The point is he has to choose mankind or Eren, right? That’s still the issue.” Nope. They worded it exactly right. Because the “truth” is, Armin doesn’t know where Eren stands. He can’t choose to go against Eren for the greater good, before he knows that the two are even opposites to begin with. Armin’s theme for this arc has been that he doesn’t feel like he understand Eren any more. We see him struggle to try to figure out precisely if Eren IS opposing the greater good or not. As of chapter 120, he has yet to know the answer to that. In other words, the “truth” option is NOT “I have to go against Eren”; it’s “I still don’t know exactly where he stands and thus what is the best action to take for the greater god. I will have to keep digging until I know enough to make a choice on what to do”. It’s still possible that his search would lead him to the fact that Eren needs to be opposed, eventually, but at this point in time, he doesn’t know that, and thus – since he has already “chosen to believe in” either – it cannot mean “opposing Eren”, as neither “friendship” nor specifically “truth” contains “Eren is bad”. Thus, the only one of the two option that opens up for decisive action, is “friendship”; ultimately, “truth” vs “friendship” looks like this: either Armin chooses to trust and back Eren, or he chooses to keep wondering where Eren stands. If not for any other reason than good story telling, it’s time Isayama put Armin on a decisive path, to push the narrative along.  

As a digression, I’d like to say that I’m aware that the last two or three chapters seem to lean so heavily towards Armin trusting Eren that I’d almost say we’ve been shown the answer already – but I see a lot of you are still worried, and that’s why I’m adding in my two cents on the matter. I already beforehand wanted to believe he chose friendship, but it was only once I experienced the exhibition myself that I saw just how obvious it was.

Anyways, back on track: that’s why I say they worded it exactly right; Armin’s dilemma is not “opposing Eren fore the greater good” vs “discarding his better judgment to prioritize his personal relationship with Eren”. Armin’s two core personalities are not being put up against each other, so they can’t say they are. They (and by “they” I mean Isa/editors/those that worked on the exhibition) are simply playing off the theme of the arc: the fear that Armin has had – and that many EMA fans have had – which is that the truth about Eren will turn out to be that he’s gone off the deep end and needs to be opposed by the two people who love him the most. For a while, it also was made to look like it was likely the case (all to scare us, mind you). “The truth” sounds scary on its own – but even more so when they’ve built up a contextually contained denotation that it means something bad. By saying “truth”, they are using the decoy of fear to distract us from the fact that it’s an empty threat – for all the reasons listed above.

Another digression to make the dilemma sound even less scary: every major character whom had a wall dedicated to them, got an equally ominous rhetorical question written next to them. Look at it like the splash text at the end of each chapter; it’s just there to quicken your pulse, remind you of the stakes and make you want to keep reading to find the answer. Also, the color red is used to identify the Eldian side throughout the exhibition and is used to singnal “belonging to Eldia” - it’s not there to ask you scary questions you don’t wanna answer (while I’m sure it IS there to make you feel nervous about the fate and righteousness of their side vs Marley - again, to blow the “right and wrong” out of the water). 

Anyways, if Armin’s two cores were set up against each other, it’d be an interesting match for sure… but that’s not what’s happening here. Truth has got nothing on friendship in this context. Armin chose friendship. Because friendship… is magic.

[pokeshippingflashfic]

Hi! Someone sent this request to mythgirlimagines and I loved what she came up with. Could you come up with something else or expand on her idea please? :) link: mythgirlimagines(.)tumblr(.)com/post/190057630070/hello-could-you-do-some-hurtconfort-for-ash-and

(I went to ask @mythgirlimagines for use/expansion of her headcanons before writing this. Here’s hoping I do it justice for everyone. Not really sure what to expand on but I don’t mind fleshing out the situation in prose. PS: User @nebli suggested the stories Ash tells of his younger!childhood. I’m bad at headcanons so I asked for help.)

You practically bite into your own arm to muffle the deep inhale of brisk late night air as it filters into your lungs, bracing yourself stock still behind a grand oak with easiest access to the stream nearby your group’s campsite.

Your redheaded companion is sitting with her back to you at the edge of the water, unoccasionally sniffling and shoulders heaving in a motion you’re semi-familiar with because, hey, it’s not like you’ve never cried before in your life.

Oh. Misty’s… crying? 

That’s… that was new. Or rather, new-ish. You could scarcely remember her shedding a tear or few during the last few years on the road, though you think there was something back in the hidden village where you met Bulbasaur, and then there was the Lavender Tower… (How do you even remember any of that anyway?)

You shake yourself from your reverie, returning to present thought process.

You’d wondered why she was missing from the campsite. And yet you told yourself you were only getting up to use the nearest foliage as your bathroom and not to search for her in the darkness while all other companions (your Pokemon as well as resident caretaker Brock, returned to your group after his temporary departure in the Orange Islands) slept the night peacefully away… but here you are almost ten minutes later after walking obstinately farther than was needed to relieve yourself.

You should have remained wrapped up snug in your sleeping bag.

After all, what are you supposed to do with this? Though you loathe to admit it, you can barely handle Misty’s ire and passion and weird girly personality in any other instance; what are you supposed to do with a Misty who’s crying alone in the middle of the night?

You sigh as faintly as possible, a few memories fluttering to the surface of your consciousness in response to that question.

Misty following you out to the deck of a large cruise liner and begging to know why you look so troubled, offering you rather obvious advice in hindsight… but it sure helped to know she understood. 

Misty reminding you that Butterfree is leaving to start a family of his own with his new mate and you’d better take this chance to say your goodbyes while you have it… because that was more important than sulking over losing a friend.

Misty stalking rigidly into your assigned guest room at Indigo Plateau after your loss in the league, strong-arming you out of your brooding state.

Misty appearing over you after your hometown battle with Gary, a faint expression of sympathy flitting across her face before she points out that you’d better get a move on and start your trek to Johto if you don’t want to fall even further behind your childhood rival.

You roll your eyes so intensely in response to all these rather telling signs that you feel a bit dizzy a moment later.

Misty is crying alone in the middle of the night… and you know what you have to do.

But how to go about it? By the grace of all gods, it seems she hasn’t noticed your presence yet (though it’s assumed that she’s rather preoccupied). However the last thing you want is to set her off down the path of righteous fury and end up her victim.

Tsking to yourself, you squint your eyes shut again, brow creased in frustration. You’re thinking too much into this. It’s not like you to dedicate so much time to mollifying Misty of all people.

Instinct takes over and you bungle your way loudly through the foliage, sure to get her attention, making it look like an accident.

“Oh, uh, Misty. Funny running into you here.”

Stellar improvisation from the future number one Pokemon Master in the world. 

However if she senses anything amiss in your approach, she doesn’t address it. Perhaps because she busies herself instead with wiping furiously at her splotched red cheeks, hiccuping and doing her utmost to rub the dry red from her eyes.

“I was just going to the bathroom,” you continue, “I didn’t know you were up too.”

Despite knowing your best option is to play innocent bystander… a twinging pierce briefly tugs in your chest over the thought of lying to her. But there’s no time to dwell, nope, gotta dig in whether she catches on or not.

“So anyway… Uh, is something wrong?” Yep, that sounded natural. Well, it’s not that it didn’t but you are suddenly overtly aware that you’ve never honestly asked this question of her since the start of your journey together. Instead the question was always a condescending rebuff in the middle of a fight.

Lips pursed, gaze averted, “… Of course not, Mr. Pokemon Master,” she responds in a brusque yet weak murmur. It’s not the least bit convincing. Well, you weren’t exactly expecting the confrontation to be a cakewalk…

Your initial approach had been sudden - element of surprise enough to distract her from her potential mortifying rage at being discovered in so compromising a demeanor. Over the past minute or so, you’ve cautiously edged yourself across the clearing, eventually coming to a stop just behind her before easing yourself into a sitting position at her side.

Welp… here you both are, you couldn’t help thinking warily, fingers drumming softly against your own knees, waiting for something to give.

Oh, and give something did as the redheaded girl beside you, in a much too far removed reaction compared to her previous attempt at concealing her despondence, suddenly leans forward, presses her rather wet and beet-colored face into your neck, one hand curling loosely around the hem of your sleeve to keep you there as she releases a sharp bawl.

Whoa, wait, mayday! you shriek internally, eyes wide and scalp and ears flushing uncomfortably hot. Alarms are ringing in uproarious, disorienting fashion and the panic sets in so instantaneous and intense that it’s enough to make you feel positively ill.

This doesn’t happen. This has never happened before between you two! What’s she thinking? What’re you supposed to do?!

It’s life or death, you know, as your instincts kick in, the hand closest to her reaching up and brushing the back of her neck, grasping her opposing shoulder and pulling her ever so slightly closer to you while she continues weeping.

It’s hard to tell if this is the right move or not. True, Misty hasn’t made any negative maneuver against you but she also hasn’t given you any signal that her mood is improving. Doing your best to smother your impatience, you internally count the seconds, minutes as they pass, staring vaguely into the dimly lit distance while the teenage girl beside you carries on grossly using your sleeve as her new personal tissue.

Ick, the thought crosses your mind before you push it aside and barrel forward, unable to take the awkward tension anymore… But what to do about it?

“Ya know, when I was a kid,” there’s a brief pause when, bless her, Misty offers a skeptical glance between sniffles, “Uh, a younger kid, Gary and I were racing around the outskirts of Pallet and I tripped over him and landed in this lake nearby. There was a school of Magikarp swimming by and one of ‘em stopped to slap me in the face with its tail ‘cause I disrupted their formation.”

Despite her gloom, you hear a distinct snort in response to your story. Feeling invigorated by your success, you continue with your distracting babble. At the same time you bide your time coming up with your next contribution. You want to help her but you also don’t wanna offer her any ammunition she can use for blackmail later on.

“Once, there was this time when my mom was super busy with work and I was worried she was gonna get sick so I tried to make her some homemade juice using fruits and veggies from our garden. It, uh… I wasn’t paying attention and it ended up all over the kitchen,” you finish rather lamely, wistful as the memory came to mind.

This time you’re rewarded with a faint, faltering giggle. It impresses you just how much making someone - Misty - feel a little better can fill you with so much pride.

Still, though the actual crying begins to subside, her features are contorted with a sense of mourning.

“So…” you try again apprehensively, “are ya ever gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

She stiffens, shrugging then shaking her head. A fleeting question crosses your mind. What’s more important; your curiosity over what may have happened or the intent of encouraging a friend when they’re feeling low…?

Of course, you know the answer in a heartbeat.

“Okay well… are you ok - uh, will you be okay?”

A pause, one final brush between her face and your sleeve before she pulls a few inches away with a sigh.

“Nngh, yeah… I’ll be… I’m better now. I mean, not one hundred percent,” she elaborates at the sight of your raised brow, “but better than I was b - before you came along.” She finishes her statement with her facial features arranged in a complicated expression.

“I guess I should thank you, Ash.” And, unable to help herself, she adds, “Who woulda known you’d be good company in an emotional crisis?”

Ah, well if she can throw out a line like that then she must be telling the truth.

“Well, you know…” you reply almost bashfully, puffing up your chest before sobering up. “But I’m glad… that you’re okay. So wait, I guess you’re heading back to bed now?”

“Oh, um…” She appears slightly troubled over such a probing suggestion, buying time, focusing on wiping her cheeks dry. “I still feel a little restless. I’ll probably just stay here and stare out at the water. You know how much I love this kinda view.”

“Then I’ll stay too,” you reply automatically, so much so that your eyes widen, shocked at what your mouth had decided to commit you to without conscious thought. “I mean... if that’s okay.”

She blinks, gaze never leaving your person, though she moves her cursory glance up and down as if checking for remorse or bad intentions behind your offer. And yet, notwithstanding your awe, you find you don’t regret your decision. Finally her survey softens and, taking things a step further, she resituates herself so that she can rest her head against your shoulder again.

The initially jarring predicament lulls into acceptance. You find that you rather like don’t mind relaxing with Misty in such close proximity, especially when she’s in a good mood though, in retrospect, you wouldn’t mind it if she wasn’t either, provided you were in the process of helping her. 

You won’t talk about it tomorrow but you also quite enjoy the way your arms bump together before she laces her fingers with your own, spending the final twenty or so minutes of your time together wordlessly holding hands.

Some say love is truest when you know as much as you can about the other person… but on this night, in this instance, love is respecting a boundary and offering whatever support you can when it’s needed despite your ignorance.

(Yeah, by the time the two of them do head back to the campsite, Ash is practically ready to wet himself. Lol. And, as a reminder, this blog is currently - and always but definitely currently since I’m trying to get back into writing - accepting new requests via ask! Please view the rules and FAQ as needed!)

[bellamygateoldblog]

there's a new ask game going around! what are your fav ships of the decade?!

: I’m picky about ships, I’ll be honest. I do enjoy a great many, but it takes a lot to leave an impression. To have found their way onto this list (of possibly the highest regard) these each have that something special. They’ve made my heart do things, made me pause scenes to compose myself, made me wanna bang my head against a wall, etc.

SO I only have a handful to offer here, but I appreciate you giving me this oppurtunity to fawn over these royal pairings.

Chuck and Blair | Gossip Girl

My most recent devistation, the freshest pick from the list. The scene that marked the very beginnings of their romantic relationship caught me totally by surprise, but most definitely sparked an intriuge deep inside me. Two wrongs make a twisted right.

They’re just so entertaining to me. They’re passionate, sexy and intense, but often have extremely sweet and emotional scenes, domestic-like moments, banter, and they work towards, against, and with the other in an always-twisting partnership.

MMm the way their relationship changes, grows and expands, how it thrives and suffers under different physical conditions but also due to the ever-changing internal emotional climate of each character involved is *chef’s kiss* delicious. Emotionally they’re rarely in the same place at the same time, but when they are there’s a balance and calm. They’re incredibly complicated and yet shockingly simple at the same time. It kept me on my toes. It annoyed me. They’re two characters with deeply-rooted issues and challenges, flaws that need to be dissected, an understanding of themselves and of the world that needs to be reached before they can fully and wholely be brought together as two people rather than two incomplete ideas. I just find there to be so much content to them. They could never be boring. They come back home. To each other, every time. And regardless of however much they still need to work on themselves, they love the other, still, intensely, and sometimes to a harmful degree. And I do also.

There’s so much allure in their chemistry, and they evolve so much throughout the show they’re basically unrecognisable by the end, as people and partners. In this show these characters were ‘falling in love’ with a new person or back in love with an ex every 3-5 working days, but Chuck and Blair, they were a constant. Of course I clinged to it when everything else is so uncertain and fleeting. I find both of these characters to be the most facinating, nuanced characters on the entire show*- throw these two at each other and there’s fireworks in good and not so good very bad ways. I think it’s quite clear why i’d become consumed with such a ship.

*for the sake of my own sanity I choose to ignore the clumsy and irresponsible retcon of Blair’s character somewhere at the end of season four, which was worsened and complicated further in five… i mean GG season five gave me the same ugly feeling as T100 season six. Blair and Bellamy were both major casualities…sometimes denial is your best friend.

Nick and Sabrina | tcaos

These two. The absolute JOY i feel when i think of them…i can’t even explain it. During part one I was indifferent towards the pair- I found them vaguely intriguing mostly because Harvey/Sabrina was a snooze-fest and I found Nick to be a lot spicier and more compelling as a character- but come part two and cue me *falling in love* in the most unexpected ways. Now I’m attached and fully prepared to have my heart broken.

In my experience, the best ships are those that come out of nowhere and sweep you off your feet. Suddenly you’re anticipating more content of them together, and without ever having a hand in it at all you found a new love. This is them. Nick is so gentle with and about Sabrina, completely defying everything it means to be a ‘bad boy’ type in the process, as is she with him.

SO going on a tangent but it’s eventually relevant- to my delight, the writers have avoided falling into The Good Protagonist hole with Sabrina. She’s got flaws. A lot. She fucks up. A lot. She’s special, it’s at the core of her character, but she’s not placed upon a narrative pedestal. Which means she doesn’t come across as being more than him at any point. And, while a lot of writing of f/m couples have remnants of misogyny, whether intentional or not, it’s like…completely absent here. Which means he doesn’t ever come across as more than her, either! He’s written as protective without treating her like a delicate passive in her own life. He’s shown valuing her needs and supporting her ambitions rather than challenging or questioning them. They are equals in every sense of the word and that makes them so easy to root for. He goes to the bottom of the ocean for her- just in the middle of an episode, it’s no biggie, he’s just- “hey babe” when he gets back. And they are both prepared to walk into literal hell for eachother.

There’s such a deep respect between them, emotional vulnerability and expression, there’s communication, there’s supporting and belonging. SHE TAUGHT HIM HOW TO LOVE. They are so well matched and at no point did I feel like there was something missing in them. UGH part three cannot come soon enough- i’m all like: *FRAGILE, please handle with care*.

Eliott and Lucas | Skam France

Evak, and any variation of them, needs no explanation as to why it’s so iconic. It just is. I can’t put a finger on what exactly it is about them I’m so fond of, i’ve never been able to, but they give me heart ache. I think these two might be my favourite version of Isak and Even as characters so, naturally, so is their relationship. I cherish the ships that have a certain intensity to them. And I’m a romantic. I choose Elu.

Will and Mike | Stranger Things

This is the softest ship I’ve ever had. My liking of it developed so subtly that I didn’t even notice it until…well, now. From season three. I’m not as giddy for this one as I am for the others on this list, but they popped into my head when I read the question so that‘s a sign I probably subconsiously wanna include them.

The friendship between Will and Mike is just so pure and sweet, and as much as i adore their dynamic exactly as it is, taking this into romantic territory could actually work and I might be surprised by it, but I also wouldn’t be surprised at all. There’s just something about the way Mike is with Will that I love so much. Mike is the one there to comfort him whenever something goes wrong, Mike is his best friend. Despite them both belonging to a group with two other boys they seem closest. And if the implications of Will’s sexuality do eventually lead to him being canonically gay, i say why not? Why not go there? Let’s add another one to the Finn Wolfhard gay character cinematic universe.

[avengerscompound]

The Little Family

The Big Guy:  A Bruce Banner Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bruce Banner x F!Reader

Word Count:  2166

Warnings:  Slight Angst, Fluff, Pregnancy, Smut (F|M, Vaginal sex)

Synopsis:  Meeting the big green guy wasn’t exactly a normal day, you didn’t expect it to you leading a life on the run and keeping your child’s nature from the world.

The Little Family

Bruce Banner had never expected to be a father.  Even before the accident that had given a body to one of his fractured personalities he’d been too scared for that.  He didn’t know what a good dad looked like.  When he thought of what a father was it was violence and fear.  There was no love involved.  No protection.  Not justice.  Just pain and terror and getting to watch as his mother was murdered.

So he’d thrown himself into work.  Science he knew.  He was good at it.  His personal relationships grew out of work because when you both know the science you can connect and you don’t have to worry about it being too personal.

The accident had pushed any other fleeting thoughts about parenthood had been pushed away.  Even if he had intense therapy and worked out his issues and managed to absorb back his fractured personalities, he couldn’t risk passing on what he’d done to himself to a child.  He could risk the Hulk with a child.

Yet, here she was.  Beatrix was little and mousey.  She was smart and a little shy.  Sometimes she could make herself triple in size and turn green, but it was like a party trick and it didn’t change who she was inside.  And she was his.  She was his and he loved her the moment he first held her in his arms.

Not that the fear was completely washed away.  Oh, it was still there, but to see her and to know for a fact that yes, she had this thing, but it wasn’t impeding her or harming her the way it did him took a weight off his shoulders.  Spending time with her made him realize that he could never be the man his father was.  That man was more of a monster than the Hulk could ever be.  There was no room in Brian Banner’s heart for love.  Only jealousy.  Whereas Bruce was not that.  He was never that.

Falling back into a relationship with you was the easiest thing he has ever done.  It felt like there had never even been a break.  That the running and fighting and terror of the time apart was just some bad dream he had and it was all okay because he’d woken up safe in your arms.

You getting your old name back was easy.  You still existed as a person legally.  You just had to start using your original ID again.  Beatrix was harder.  Her mother’s name was listed as completely wrong on her birth certificate.  Bruce employed a whole slew of lawyers to fix things up.  It took some time, but eventually, her birth certificate was changed so the mother was listed under your actual name and the father was listed as one Doctor Bruce Banner.  Beatrix Abigale whose last name changed like water finally had it set.  She is Beatrix Abigale Banner.

Morning is still your favorite.  It is more hectic than it was back in the days when he lived with you in your art gallery.  Beatrix wakes up and needs breakfast.  Bruce actually has a job he needs to get to.  Even with the chaos, there is still this hour, just as the sun rises and starts creeping through the curtains, where everything is quiet and nothing needs to be done.  You feel at peace and home wrapped in each other’s arms.

He wakes just after you and his brown eyes blink up at you.  “Morning, beautiful.”

“Morning, my love.”  You reply.  He brings his lips to yours and the kiss starts soft and gentle.  A slow caress of his lips against yours.  It deepens quickly and he rolls over, pressing you into the mattress, his kiss hungry and passionate.  You moan into his lips and hook a leg around his waist, drawing him in closer to you.

“What are you up to?”  You ask, slightly breathless, as his mouth moves to your throat and his hand moves up under your tank top.  “You know she’ll be up soon.”

“I’ll be really quick.”  He teases, smiling up at you sheepishly.

Like your words have summoned her, you hear the small thuds of her footfalls as Beatrix runs up the hall.  Bruce rolls back to his side of the bed as she throws the door open and runs into the room climbing up into the bed.

“Morning, Bea.”  You say, pulling your daughter into your arms.

“Mommy, I’m hungry,”  Bea says.

Bruce moves to get out of bed, swinging his legs over the side.  “How about you and me make mommy breakfast in bed, hey Bea?  That could be fun.”

“Piggyback me, Bwuce.”  Beatrix squeals running at his back and jumping on.

He laughs and gets up, carrying her out of the room.  You lie back and close your eyes pulling your blankets backup so you can enjoy the little extra sleep that has just been offered to you.  You are just drifting back off to sleep when there is a loud explosion and the whole building shudders.

You stumble out of bed and start running towards the kitchen when there is another explosion.  You move faster and nearly slam right into Bruce who has a crying Beatrix in his arms.

“What is going on?”  You ask as he puts his arms around you and ushers you into the living room.

“Don’t know.  Hopefully, it’s something of Tony’s gone wrong.  But just in case, we’re going to very calmly take the stairs down and get out of here.”  He says leading you out to the hall.  Despite him trying to stay calm, you can see the tinge of green around his neck and ears.

You got to the stairwell, it is noisy with people deciding if they should go up to face what was happening or down and out of the building.  There is another building shaking explosion and Bruce makes a pained sound as he starts moving downwards.

Above you, you hear Steve Rogers bark something to someone else and as you move down the stairs you are pushed past by Sam.  “Do you know what’s happening?”  Bruce asks.

“Something hit us.  Missiles?  There are a few large holes in the building.”  Sam yells back to you as he keeps going up.

“Shit,”  Bruce mutters, but there is a little something else to his voice.  You keep moving down as quickly as your legs can take you.  There’s now the sounds of a warning system telling people to evacuate the area along with gunfire.

Your lungs start to burn as you struggle to pull in air.  The apartments in the tower are twenty floors up and not even halfway down you feel panic set in.  Beatrix keeps crying and while Bruce keeps telling her it’ll be okay the green spreads down his neck and you can tell he’s barely keeping it together.

“Bruce,”  You pant, putting your hand on his arm.  “Let him take over. He can get us down safely.”

“Can’t.  Not with Bea.  Not safe.”  He says.  The words come out pained and broken and you grab his arm.

“Give me, Bea.”  You say, taking her from him.  “I trust him.  So trust me.  Let it happen or there’s a chance we’re not making it out of here.”

“Stand back.”  He growls doubling over.  You move further down the stairs and look up at him as the clothes tear from his back and his muscles contort and expand.

With a huge roar, the Hulk straightens himself up and looks around wildly.  His eyes fall on you and a big grin spreads across his face.  “Little girl!”

“Big guy!” You say and beckon him toward you.  He takes a couple of slow steps down and stops and points at Beatrix.  You shake your head.  “We gotta get out of here Big Guy.  Safety first then I’ll tell you about her.”

He grunts and nods before scooping you both up in his arms.  Beatrix puts her hands on Hulk and smiles at you.  “Like me.”

“That’s right.  Daddy is like you.”  You say.  The Hulk looks down at you both and smiles again before jumping off the side of the stairs and plummeting down the remaining ten floors.  Beatrix squeals with delight and just before you hit the ground, Hulk puts his arm out and grabs hold of the stairs slowing his fall so he lands lightly on his feet.

He pushes his way outside and is fallen upon by men dressed in black, he bats them away with a roar and heads south-east fast enough to make your eyes water.  When he reaches Bryant Park he puts you down and looks back at the tower and then to you.

“Go!  Help them.  We’ll be here.”  You say.

He nods and gives another grunt before returning to the fight.  You stand in the crowd of people who all stand, staring up at the Avengers Tower watching the battle take place.  You hear a lot of muttering about how dangerous it is to have it in the middle of the city like that.  You just ignore it.  They do have a point.

Beatrix starts to fuss so you take her to the fountain and she starts to splash in it.  It’s not until late afternoon that things settle back down.  You hadn’t eaten because all the cafes had closed up and Beatrix is barely holding herself together.  At one point she just passes out while she is crying.

Hulk appears and glances around.  You pick up Beatrix and rush over to him.  He points at you.  “Little girl.  Hulk’s?”

You nod.  “Yeah.  Well, Bruce’s but two for one right?”

He scowls at you for a moment and nods with a huff.  You put Beatrix down and she looks up at the lumbering man.  “Mommy, I wanna be green too.”

You laugh.  “Okay, honey.”

She grins up at the Hulk and starts to change.  Tripling in size and gaining muscle mass.  When she’s done she’s about the height of a child in their early teens but she still has that little kids look.  Her skin is the same shade as Hulks.

Hulk claps his hands and offers one to Beatrix.  “Hello, little girl.”  He rumbles.

“Hello,”  Beatrix replies and takes hold of his finger.

You sit down and watch as the two of them start to play.  Hulk is gentle and loving with her.  They play fight but he lets her win, falling to the ground when he’s tapped.  He tosses her in the air but never very high and she squeals and laughs.  They chase each other and he never runs fast enough to catch her until he can tell she wants to be caught.

As the sun started to go down you approached them both.  “Hey, Big Guy.  She’s gotta eat and I don’t know, figure out where we’re sleeping while that gets fixed.”

Hulk frowns at you.  “Hulk and little girl play.”

“You can play again.  We aren’t going anywhere. Just we haven’t eaten all day.”  You say.

He grunts and nods before picking Beatrix up and holding her over his head.  “Bye-bye, little girl.  Hulk loves you.”

Beatrix smiles.  “I wuv you too.”  She says and plants and kiss on his cheek before slowly shifting back into the little girl you’re used to.  Hulk puts her down again and looks between you.  “You want Banner back?”

“If you don’t mind.”  You say putting your hand on his.

“Hulk not mind.”  He huffs.

“Maybe closer to the tower?”  You suggest.

He nods and scoops you both up before taking off towards the tower.  You can see Tony and Rhodey flying around the outside doing something to the damage and Steve is standing at the base.  He smiles at you as Hulk puts you both.  Hulk looks at you one last time before shifting back, hunched over and making pained grunting sounds.

When he’s returned to Bruce he looks around wildly and rushes to, holding his pants to him and wrapping his arms you in his arms and kiss you both.  “Are you okay?  What happened?”

“We’re fine.  He got us to safety, and came back and fought.  Then when he came to get us he played with Bea for a while.”  You explain.

“I liked the Hulk, daddy.  We had fun.  I’m really hungry now.”  Beatrix adds.

Bruce looks from Beatrix to you.  “She called me daddy.  You called me daddy?”

Beatrix scowls at him.  “‘Cause you’re my daddy.”  She says like she’s angry that he didn’t know that.

He hugs you both tightly and buries his face in your neck.  “I love you both so much.”

“We love you too.”  You whisper, stroking his hair.

He pulls back and looks down at you.  “I wanna get married.”

You blink back at him and your mouth drops open.  “I - uh … what?”

“Marry me?  I have a ring.  But I wanna get married.  Be a family.  Maybe have more kids?”  He says.

You stare at him unable to gather your thoughts.  “You have a ring?”

“Yes.  It’s upstairs.  Please?  Will you marry me?”

You open and close your mouth like a fish for a moment.  “Yes.  Yes.  I will marry you.”

Bruce pulls you back toward him and kisses you deeply until Beatrix makes another sound of disgust.

Bruce pulls back laughing.

“You need clothes and we need to eat.  That’s first.”  You say.  He nods and lets you go.

“Steve, what’s the deal?”  He asks, approaching the Captain.

You follow after him shaking your head and wonder if your little family was ever going to do things the normal way.

~ END ~