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reidyoulikeabook · 3 years ago

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15, 17 and 26 all from fluff!!! <3333333333

you asked and you shall RECEIVE my sweet avery! of course you pick out the very best combination of prompts, i'd expect no less <3

Ship: GN! Reader x Spencer Reid

Word count: .9k

Warnings: Kissing, general goofiness and cheesiness.

Prompts: #15 "Wow, you're photogenic."

#17 "Quick, kiss me!"

#26 "My lip gloss is all over your lips.”

A/N: I haven’t posted in an AGE and I won’t lie when I say this might not be my best work, but I was feeling writing for once so I tried! I’m going through a pretty rough mental time at the moment and I’m finding it hard to do much, but I wrote this! It’s technically part of the A-Z series, but works as a stand-alone :)

You've both worked up quite the sweat from your, admittedly too enthusiastic, dancing by the time you tumble your way into the photobooth. You'd been meaning to make a stop there all night but between the children (Aaron could probably wallpaper his entire house with pictures of the inside of Jack's nose, pressed right up against the camera), and the far reaching branches of Derek's family tree that yanked him outside for new mantelpiece photos at every opportunity, you just hadn't had the chance. Until now.

Giggling, you pull back the curtain. Almost tripping inside the booth, your interlocked fingers meaning Spencer is yanked in right along with you. He's laughing too. His nose scrunched, glasses comically far up, his face tinged pink with laughter, his hair damp and especially springy against his forehead.

"Sit down!" You chastise.

"Hold on!" He protests, trying to get himself comfortable in his seat. He pulls an odd face, one that involves contorting his mouth into a shape you’re not sure you’ve seen outside of the dentist office, flaring his nostrils, and frowning simultaneously.

And then, amongst the hububub, the camera flashes. Followed by the instant sound of whirring. Spencer frowns, reaching forward, but you lurch. Grabbing the picture and bringing it up to your line of sight, grinning, “Wow, you’re photogenic.”

“Give me that!”

You shake your head, tucking your arm behind your back, “Nope.”

“Please?” He pleads, pushing out his lower lip.

“Nope.”

He braces himself, his legs tensing under you.

He’s up to something.

You bring your right hand back to his chest, steadying yourself, “It’s going to go off again.”

He shakes his head, “The wait between the flashes is actually longer than you’d think because it accommodates for people leaving and getting readjusted in the booth, if it went off that fast there’d be a whole load of film that was just wasted-”

Flash.

His face tenses, startled, and you burst into another peel of laughter. Your thumb tracing along the line of his jaw, “Is that so Doctor Reid?”

“It’s usually longer!” He defends, his voice pitching upwards, “Morgan must have gotten a subpar photobooth.”

“Or maybe you just don’t know about photobooths.”

His eyebrows raise for a brief second, then dip back down to their original position, a conciliatory smile on his face, “I don’t actually know about photobooths. I was just making it up so you’d kiss me.”

“You want a picture of us kissing?”

His teeth worry at his bottom lip, and he takes pause. You take the opportunity to smile brightly at him, your eyes widening as you take in the entirety of his much too adorable, much too appealing, face staring up at you. A mixture of wonder and amazement in his eyes that almost makes you dizzy.

Spencer Reid, wanting photobooth kissing pictures.

“Well then quick, Spencer, you’d better kiss me.”

His face lights up: a smile reserved only for you, instinctively tilting his head up to be closer to you. You squeeze his chin affectionately between your thumb and forefinger, closing the gap between you that was filled only with warm air and quiet desire. His hand comes to the small of your back, on instinct, pressing you against him as his lips brush against yours. Lightly, at first, just testing out the water. Gentle and affectionate, and then harder. Chasing his mouth as he slumps into the seat, pulling you further into his lap.

Flash.

It knocks you off kilter, surprising you. A laugh reverberates through his throat and into your mouth, eliciting a very similar reaction from you. His face is scrunched up with joy as he pulls back, laughing, “That’s kind of a mood killer.”

“There’s a reason you don’t put strobe lights in the bedroom.”

“I think I might have to concede you know more about photobooths than me,” He smiles, his arms looped around your waist, his head pressing into your neck.

“My lip gloss is all over your lips,” You chastise half-heartedly, “I’ll be covered in it.”

He presses a series of delicate kisses along the line of your collarbone, coming to the hollow of your throat. You feel him speak as much as you hear it, “I think it looks good anywhere on you.”

“You would,” You tease, running your fingers lightly through his hair, which has been carefully gelled for the occasion.

He sighs, contentedly. It’s nice, really, to have the time to yourself. Penelope and Derek’s special day has been in the making for a month, and as much as it’s a glorious occasion the lead-up (including the 6am start to the day) has been a whirlwind. It’s nice to take pause.

It’s especially nice to imagine Spencer at your own wedding. He looks gorgeous in a proper suit, even letting you pick out a tie that matched your outfit.

Wonder if he’ll look this beautiful at our wedding.

Don’t be silly. Even more so.

You smile to yourself, tightening your arms around him.

Flash.

Despite the work that went into acquiring the kiss, the photo that ends up on your mantelpiece in a frame is the last one. The biggest smile on Spencer’s face, accompanied by a look of pure peace. His arms securing you to him, and your own looped around to hold him close. The look in your eyes, the softness of the features of your face, as you look at him in that picture? It makes him feel more sure of your love for him than anything in this world. And maybe, just maybe, he gets Penelope to make a copy for his wallet.

Permanent tagslist: @ellesgreenaway @fiftyshadesofspencerreid @holding-on-to-my-youth @ssa-m-187 @reidingmelodies @spencerreidat3am @muffin-cup @reidyourmind @hollydaisy23 @reidassance @hauntedinsomnia @averyhotchner @sunkissglow @reidsacademia @kathrynisadogperson @opheli-yeah @meganskane @idonotexiste @sapphic-prentiss @jhillio @dinonuggets1967 @bingereid @reidscanehand @emilyprsntiss @retrxbarnes @luvofyourlifeliv @sweetandsunny @newtmyheart @shesalatesh @loreenswriting

A-Z tagslist: @ssareidbby @gingertea6460 @thosecriminalminds @disasterwriter @s5spencerreid

If you’re on the old tagslist it would be great if you could fill out THIS google form to be added to the new tagslist! I’m trying to create SOME semblance of order <3

Old tagslist:

@altsvu @muffin-cup @reidscanehand @bvttercupbby @jessicarabbit09 @lukewearingbeanies @lady-anon-x @aperrywilliams @southsidemistress @a-broken-pact @jjongs-tae-and-biscuits @reidsnose @amesandpineapples @spaghettinudes @quillanpie @ateez-star @mercy-burning @sapphic-prentiss @joyclubie @random-human-person @cat-power6 @junipersenvelope @blameitonthenight21 @mggsprettygirl @im-autistic @spookydrreid @brown-eyedshell @underscorecourt @drspencerreidd @lady-loves-a-lot @rem-ariiana @laurakirsten0502 @starsandshit90 @spoonielivingfree @kathrynisadogperson @geostarr @shesalatesh @cyanide-mustard @therealchickenjoe @sunlitspence @spencerreid9 @s5spencerreid @ssavanessa22 @reidaissance @amoeebaa @death-becomes-her @wheelsup @willowrose99 @i-understood-that-reference @clubfairy @kingdomcrane @newtmyheart @cigarette-day-dread @maddievevo @s1lverhand @ggublerss @reid-me-a-story @retrxbarnes @vntgkenz @eli-side-blog @reidtome @justanotherfangirl @sebstan-is-the-man @bethc54 @trans-reader-fics @percysaidnever @sad-bitch-h0ur @veridianluv @awesomebooklover17 @youarethereasonimsmiling @xhopingthis-worksx @agentmilf @takeyourleap-of-faith @spencerreidsconverse @nomajdetective @thatsonezesty13 @spookydrreid @kurtuinna @jswessie187 @sammicabrera @idontwantyourcookiesthanks @sweetandsunny @reidstulips @midnightstan @stylesstreet @iamhowieson @reichelhache @screennamealreadyused @mrs-dr-reid @measure-in-pain @slaytherinthoughts @inlovewprentiss @citliareedus @love-you-to-saturn @drayshadow @makailaa @idonotexiste @disasterwriter @kuolonsyoja @thosecriminalminds @reidsacademia @hercleverboy @sun-flower-seed @singularityjc @adnae91 @uwu-queen-420 @broken-stardust @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @spencerreid-187 @spenxerslut @pastelbabygirl19 @spencie-adams @meganskane

@mochionly @fine-furry-friends @v-is-obsessive @violent-fleur @ilovespencerreidmarryme @dreamingstar @radtwinkie @allybatch @tea-and-books13 @hyungsungcore @gubeskneescrew @hagridsmomma @goldentournesol @iwouldburnupintheatmosphere @hotchwheels @moondustmemories @shay-lee @msspencerreid @url-under-construction @softcabur

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #imagine spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #the a-z of spencer reid

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bothcreativitybois · 4 years ago

Text

The Mayor’s Sweet Treat Chapter 1

Description: Small town AU where mayor Remus knew everyone, until a cute baker opened shop in his town. Patton is struggling to keep open the small bakery while his mother is gone. Then the rambunctious and rowdy Remus appears and vows to save him.

Ships: Intruality

TW: Swearing, stress, crying, slight burn, implied past bad relationship, food (obviously), sexual references (it’s Remus)

Taglist (ask if you want to be added): @crazydemigod666 @star-crossed-shipper

The old green truck rumbled down the road. Remus rubbed his stubble and tried to neaten his hair out but it didn’t do much.

How did I miss the opening of a new shop? What’s wrong with me?

-A few minutes earlier-

“Uhg this meeting sucks.” Remus groaned and leaned back in his chair. “Why do we have to do them every Monday morning?” His coffee wasn’t enough. He contemplated where he could get something stronger.

“Be my assistant Virgil. I need you Virgil.” He mocked his employers past words.

“Remus, you’re the mayor.” Virgil reminded him. “I know you have trouble paying attention but you need to listen. For your citizens.” The assistant looked over his notes as his employer whined.

“I already know what everyone thinks.” Remus defended. “Mrs Patty needs more wheelchair access, the berry farms proposed an idea to work with the high school to get more workers and Janus was caught spray painting again. It’s not hard to keep track when there are only like 100 people.” Virgil smiled smugly and looked up from his notes.

“So you know about the bakery reporting losses?” Virgil asked. Remus sat up and looked at him dumbly.

“We have a bakery?” Remus was dumbfounded.

“It’s new. Opened 5 months ago.” Virgil informed as he threw some papers on the desk. “The owner asked if there was any assistance we could provide the- Remus?” Remus was already jingling his keys.

“I’ll be back soon.” Remus said as he left. Virgil sighed.

Remus thought as he drove. He looked at the store fronts trying to find what had changed. They all looked the same. General store, Salamander Silk clothes store, café he’d just gotten another coffee from, Sammy’s restaurant, the closed down florist- wait. The widows weren’t blocked anymore. Remus pulled up in front of the building and got out of his truck. He didn’t bother locking it, there was only one criminal in the town and it was his best friend. There were no new signs on the building, but the old signs were gone. The windows were uncovered but the door was closed.

Remus wasn’t sure where the bakery was exactly but there was only one street of shops so it wouldn’t be hard to find.

Maybe the Ahujas opened a bakery? I’ve always loved Nisa’s kaju katli.

“It couldn’t be here…” Remus said to no one. He trampled up to the door to check if it was unlocked, it was. He swung it open and was greeted with a sweet scent and bright colours. The walls had new light blue wallpaper and the old stone floor had a cute pink rug trying to cover the large crack. “Are you open?!” Remus shouted past the displays of baked goods.

There was a crash.

Patton worked lazily on the cake in front of him. He tried not to let his tears get in the lovely icing he’d just finished flattening.

No one is coming anyway. Why bother?

He usually could control these thoughts but this morning he was tired and stressed. He hadn’t had a single customer for a month, he was reaching the last of his back-up funds. Patton dropped the icing spatula and pushed away from the cake for a break, the rolling stool he was on slid to the wall.

It was a mistake. No one wants you here. I should’ve stayed wit-

A ding cut through the room. Patton realised he was now full on crying. His cheeks were warmer than the bread he’d made this morning. He stood shakily and walked to the oven, he couldn’t let them just sit there. He put on his green oven mitts and opened the industrial ovens. The muffins sat there, plump and cute. He slowly reached up to get the heavy pan out. Benefit of a large pan is being able to make two dozen at a time, the downside was carrying two dozen dense muffins at once. He’d built up a little muscle these past few weeks hauling the flour himself but it didn’t help much.

“Oh fuck uh…” The tall figure said, Patton hadn’t quite looked up to see them properly yet. Remus frantically looked around for something to help the man clutching his arm. A sink. Remus grabbed the small man’s good arm and dragged him to the large sink. The tall person pulled Patton to the sink and turned on the water for him. He let go of his arm and shakily took off his oven mitt and put his arm under the stream of water.

“Are you open?!” A voice shouted through the small building. Patton turned in shock, accidentally hitting both the pan and part of his arm against the oven door. He dropped the pan and clutched his arm.

“Ah!” He let out a small noise. There were heavy footsteps and a tall man appeared next to him. Patton felt his tears rise back up. Not from pain, he was used to burns, but he was overwhelmed.

“Can you get that pan I dropped?” The smaller man muttered quietly. Remus looked across the room to see a pan of what looked like muffins in front of the oven. Thankfully it had landed without sending any muffins flying. He walked over and picked up the still hot pan. Patton turned to warn the tall person the pan was hot but was met with Remus holding the metal easily. The tall man was wearing a green flannel over a black shirt and some ratty black jeans, a stark contrast to Patton’s light blue t-shirt and pink apron and pants. The man had stubble that thickened along his upper lip and long brown hair pulled back into a messy bun. Remus placed the tray down and looked at Patton, his cheeks were red and he could see tears clouding his eyes. He noticed how much Patton was shaking.

“Are you okay?” Remus asked, concerned. Patton turned away and focused on his arm.

“Yeah, you get used to burns.” Patton said weakly. He knew that wasn’t what Remus asked but hoped he’d get away with that answer. Remus knew what he was doing but decided not to press the man he’d just met. Patton took his arm out of the cold water and turned to Remus. “So who are you? A prince in shining cowboy boots?” Patton laughed weakly at the black square toe boots.

“Oh right.” Remus suddenly remembered why he was here. “I’m Remus.” He reached out a hand for a handshake. Patton took one look at the dirty hand then looked back up at Remus.

“I’m Patton.” He introduced himself happily. Remus realised his hands were dirty and pulled back. Patton giggled. Something about that giggle made Remus smile. “So Remus what do you do other than scaring innocent bakers?” Patton joked as he walked to his muffins.

“I scare innocent baristas.” Remus retorted, Patton laughed and wiped his face. “But if you mean work, I’m the mayor.” Patton looked up in a mix of doubt and surprise. “I’m surprised you didn’t know that. Actually I’m more surprised I don’t know you. Did you go to Mindville Public?” Remus referenced the public high school which was the only one in town.

“Oh no. I just moved here actually.” Patton answered. He began removing the muffins one by one. “Came here to start the bakery with my mother, but she had to go back to the city for some stuff so it’s just been me for a few months.” That made sense to Remus. It was unlikely that just one person ran this place. But he still wasn’t sure how he hadn’t heard of the bakery opening.

“I would’ve visited earlier but I didn’t know you were… well… existed.” Remus rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Patton sighed.

“Yeah, it seems no one does.” Patton said dejectedly as he took out the final muffin. He picked up the now cool tray and moved past Remus to put it in the sink. Remus caught a sad look in his eyes as he passed, a look that even though they’d just met he could tell was not usual. Remus walked over and put a hand on Patton’s shoulder.

“Hey, you're one of my citizens now.” Remus stated and turned Patton to face him. Patton saw a sparkle of determination in Remus’ eyes. “I’d do anything to help my citizens.” They lingered close to each other. Patton began to tear up, then quickly wrapped Remus in a hug. Remus raised his arms as the small man squeezed his ribs, Remus looked down at Patton. He realised how tired he looked, he blushed as he buried his face into Remus. Patton pulled away and wiped his eyes.

“Sorry… it’s been hard these past few days and... “ Patton looked up at Remus, eyes catching each other. “Thank you.” Patton looked tired, sad and weak. Remus felt a sense of protectiveness rise in his chest. Everyone in town was rowdy and strong, that’s what happens when you’re raised in the country, but Patton was different.

“Remus!” A voice shouted from outside the building. The men looked out the windows to see a tall lanky man with dark hair falling over his face.

“Who’s that?” Patton starred as Remus began walking out of the kitchens. Remus sighed.

“My assistant. I have to go.” Remus said, then he stopped and turned to Patton. “How much are those muffins.” Patton beamed. He picked up one of the still warm muffins and threw it to Remus.

“They’re carrot cake and walnut.” Patton laughed. “Just stop by tomorrow and tell me what you think of them.” Remus nodded. He pulled out a card and a five dollar bill then put both on the counter.

“I’ll call you.” Remus winked. Patton felt his chest tighten, but in a good way. He waved as Remus walked out to Virgil.

“You can’t just drop out of meetings like that!” Virgil scolded as Remus walked out. Virgil saw an all too familiar crooked smirk on Remus’ face. “Oh no. No no no. What are you planning?” Remus took a bite out of the muffin, the aromatic flavours tingled against his tongue.

“I’m gonna save the bakery.” He said.

“Okay that actually seems reaso-”

“Then get the cute baker to grab my cake.”

“-there it is.”

#sanders sides fic #sanders sides au #sanders sides small town au #intruality #ts remus #remus sanders #ts patton #patton sanders #ts virgil #virgil sanders #sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #platonic intruxiety #ts janus #janus sanders #roman took over

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tempestaurora · 4 years ago

Photo

FANDOMS: Marvel, Voltron: Legendary Defender, The 100, Harry Potter, The Raven Cycle, Community, Avatar: The Last Airbender, The Umbrella Academy

NOTES:

i tagged every tumblr i could reasonably find. if you have more than one fic on this list, i have tagged you more than once. some people may be tagged like five times. i’m not sorry.

where relevant, fandoms have been split into general (platonic) centric fics, and romantic/slash fics. this is just because it’s easier than splitting it up into specific relationships.

at the end of every fic title/author line is a list of core relationships; fics are split between gen and romance depending on what relationship is considered centric. otherwise, fics are in no particular order. All fics are completed unless otherwise specified.

i added a read more because there’s over 100 fics listed here.

anyway, enjoy, thanks for the 3k followers

M A R V E L

gen centric fics

SHORT (0 - 5K)

K.I.D. by blondsak @blondsak | Tony&Peter

summary: “Hi K.I.D. Glad you’re awake. Do you know your primary objective?”

“To always look for ways to remind Mister Stark - that’s you! - that Kindness Isn’t Dead.”

“That’s right, K.I.D. Good job.”

forty miles by peter_stank @peter-stank

summary: the one where Morgan is sick and Tony is in way over his head, so he calls his spiderson for a little bit of help. Tony&Peter

from now on by peterparkr @peterparkrr | Tony&Peter

summary: Peter’s sure that Tony and Pepper’s wedding will change everything.

Machine Wash Hot; Tumble Dry Low by alice_in_ink | Tony&Peter

summary: Do you ever fall into sewers and then need your billionaire mentor to wash your super-suit? Peter Parker does too.

Captain That by maddo | Tony&Peter

summary: Just a bunch of little anecdotes regarding our favourite spider and his Instagram account, feat. a meme-tastic Tony Stark.

Here's to all the new beginnings by Gruoch @groo-ock | Tony&Peter

summary: Peter gets a job. Tony is less than pleased.

to know, to protecc, and to fuck with by peterstank and floweryfran @peter-stank @floweryfran | Tony&Peter, Natasha&Peter, Sam/May

summary: peter parker convinces the responsible adults in his life to join him on the world’s stupidest stake-out.

MEDIUM (5 - 20K)

i used to have nothing and then by dirgewithoutmusic @ink-splotch | Clint&Natasha

summary: “Clint,” Natasha said. “You’ve got to let me go.”

“Clint,” she said, and he let her go.

the hearth by sagemb | Tony&Peter

summary: What to Do When Your Wife Is Out of the Country: A Guide by Tony Stark

1) Gain partial custody of a child 2) Sleep on the couch 3) Have the child gain partial custody of you.

Love in Ones and Zeroes by forensicleaf @forensicleaf | Tony&Peter

summary: a boy, a bot, and a bond through the years. Tony&DUM-E

call you home SERIES by Madelinedear | May&Tony, Tony&Peter

summary: sometimes family is who you're born with. and sometimes family is a spider boy, a rich not-dad, and a kickass aunt. (or; tony, may, and peter find a place in each other's lives)

Not-Uncle Tony by Jen27ny @jen27ny | Tony&Peter, Happy&Peter

summary: Happy is Peter's biological father, and Tony is there for the entire ride.

Between how it is and how it should be by frostysunflowers @frostysunflowers | Peter&Bucky, Tony&Peter, Steve&Bucky

summary: ''Doesn’t Captain Rogers ever…wonder,'' Peter winced as he fumbled for the right word, ''where you are?''

Bucky smirked. ''Steve’s a regular mother hen. Used to be me that worried about him.'' He gave Peter a pointed look. ''Better question is, isn’t Stark wondering where you are?''

The Unfortune Teller by peterparkr @peterparkrr | Tony&Peter

summary: A woman in a carnival booth predicts Peter's death.

all the things yet to come (are the things that have passed) by peterparkr @peterparkrr | Peter&Morgan, Tony&Peter

summary: The first time Peter sees Morgan is at the funeral.

tony and peggy’s big day out! by floweryfran @floweryfran | Tony&Peggy

summary: “What’s happened this time?”

“Just a bombing,” says Peggy.

“At three in the afternoon?” says Jarvis. “Frankly, how rude.”

Blips on the Record by ambivalentangst @ambivalentmarvel | Flash&Peter, Tony&Peter

summary: Flash Thompson’s story is not simple, Peter Parker can always use someone else in his corner, and secrets are had and protected by all.

aiding and abetting: a peter parker saga by floweryfran and peterstank @floweryfran @peter-stank | Peter&Avengers

summary: 5 times peter parker runs into the rogues separately + the 1 time they work together as a team.

Tennessee Outreach for Spider-Man (and friends) by ciaconnaa @ciaconnaa | Harley&Peter, Harley&Tony

summary: in an attempt to help Harley beef up his college apps, Tony offers Harley a remote Stark Industries internship to help Spider-Man. It easily becomes his worst nightmare.

Allston Christmas by Gruoch @groo-ock | Tony&Peter, Tony&Peter&Rhodey

summary: “You guys didn’t have to do this,” Peter says from where he sits squeezed into the middle seat of the U-Haul, sweat running down his back. The air-conditioning in the truck they’ve rented is broken, and even with the windows rolled down it’s hellishly hot inside.

“We wanted to,” Tony replies as he blasts the horn at a minivan with a “Harvard Mom” bumper sticker that is attempting to cut into his lane.

so happy together by floweryfran @floweryfran | Tony&Ben

summary: ben parker calling tony stark a twink for 13k words

LONG (20K+)

An Unofficial Introduction to the Avengers SERIES by Isnt_it_pretty_to_think_so @isnt-it-pretty-to-think-so-tr | Tony&Peter

summary: The Avengers meet Spiderman via the online world, and then meet Peter Parker in Stark's living room. It takes them longer than it should to put two-and-two together.

what is and will be (is you and me) by momentofmemory @momentofmemory | May&Peter

summary: 5 times May was there for Peter, +1 time he was there for her.

dear mr. fantasy by iron_spider @iron--spider | Tony&Peter

summary: He grits his teeth and turns around, and before he can even begin to trudge over towards Peter’s room, he’s stopped in his tracks. By a door. In the middle. Of the living room.

“Well that’s new,” he says, still rooted to the spot.

timshel SERIES by justanotherblond @blondieewritess | Bucky&Peter, Steve/Bucky

summary: The soldier doesn’t remember his son’s birth or how he came to be. He doesn’t remember bedding a woman and watching her belly swell, but they said the boy was his. He does know that he will protect and teach the boy within the confines of their cell walls. Even when the handlers berate him. Even when the good guys take him away.

odd couple buddies SERIES by bysine | Peter&Bucky, Sam&Thor, Tony&Peter

summary: "You know you're not supposed to call him the Winter Soldier any more, right?" Peter says, while they handcuff him to a pipe. A pipe. "Also this whole thing is kind of messing up my schedule. My two overdue papers won't exactly write themselves."

i understand (i’m a liability) by floweryfran @floweryfran | Harley&Tony, Harley&Peter

summary: “I… am not being challenged in the right ways here,” Harley says slowly, carefully.

“Then move here,” Tony says, and Harley’s heart drops straight into his feet.

Roundabout by Gruoch @groo-ock | Tony&Peter

summary: In which Peter attempts to survive long enough to graduate, Tony moonlights as a semi-professional party planner, and absolutely nothing goes according to plan.

Uncle Steve's Fix-it Freelance Gig (and friends) SERIES by whowhotellsyourstory | Steve&Morgan, Tony&Steve, Bucky&Peter

summary: "You ever need help, and I'm not there-""Why wouldn't you be there?""You call Uncle Steve."

notes: probably my favourite post endgame fix it fic/series in existence

Dumpster Fires Verse SERIES by deniigiq @deniigi | Peter&Wade&Matt

summary: A collection of Team Red stories because they are all hot messes. Except Peter. Two-Thirds of them are hot messes.

Impression, Sunrise by ciaconnaa @ciaconnaa | Peter&Morgan

summary: In Peter Parker's eyes, Morgan Stark is a lot of things: a terrible pancake chef, a top notch negotiator, the world's cutest six-year old. But above all, she is his family. He hopes he's enough.

The Room Where It Happens by notapartytrick @notaparty-trick | Tony&Peter

summary: At 7:36 pm on the 12th of May 2016, Tony Stark is put in the Room.

A twelve-by-twelve-foot shed, soundproofed, double locked. It becomes his home. It has to be, because there’s nowhere else.

At 4:22 pm on the 15th of June 2017, Peter Parker is put in the Room.

They make a living under duress, fearing at every moment the entry of their captor. Confinement halts their lives in their tracks, changes them both for good: breaks them and brings them together simultaneously.

“If someone has everything they need, but nobody, do they have everything? Or nothing?”

romance centric fics

SHORT (0 - 5K)

written in the star(war)s by ciaconnaa @ciaconnaa | Peter/Michelle

summary: Michelle looks at the nurse one more time, and despite the evidence, asks, “Are you sure it’s twins?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” the nurse points them out again. “One boy, and one girl. Due...May 4th.”

It only takes Michelle 2.3 seconds to realize the horror of that sentence.

Steve Rogers is (Not) A Good Influence by stevergrsno @stevergrsno | Steve/Bucky, Steve&Peter

summary: Steve Rogers' American Tour Of Waiting For His Brainwashed Boyfriend To Come Back And Blowing Up Hydra is interrupted when Tony Stark dumps Peter Parker into his lap.

Captain ‘Socialist Rage Muffin’ America by mybrotherharry @baffledkingcomposinghallelujah | Steve/Tony, Steve/Tony/Bucky

summary: It takes three months of dating Steve Rogers for Tony to understand why Aunt Peggy once shot at him in sheer frustration.Alternately titled, Honey, I committed treason again.

Soft Spot for the Hell Raisin' Boy by ifeelbetter @ifeelbetterer | Steve/Bucky

summary: The Winter Soldier takes an interest in Sam Wilson. Bucky Barnes wants to tell him how to be Steve Rogers's best friend.

Cat’s Cradle by Traincat @traincat | Peter/Felicia

summary: The test was positive.

Felicia tilted it idly this way and that, sitting on the bathroom floor with her back against the cupboard. The floors and the counter tops were marble, and the shower door was glass. Every one of Felicia’s moves seemed to echo in the large room, even though she knew that she was making no sound.

The test was positive. She didn’t bother to check the box to make sure she’d gotten the little symbols right. She’d known before she took it.

“Well,” she breathed out, tilting her head back to inspect the ceiling. “Damn, Spider.”

MEDIUM (5 - 20K)

cross this river to the other side by defcontwo | Steve/Bucky

summary: In 1943, the Howling Commandos wrote goodbye letters to be given to their loved ones in the event of their deaths.In 2014, Sharon Carter finds those letters in a tin can in an abandoned HYDRA base.

Tony Stark Googled The Thing by mybrotherharry @baffledkingcomposinghallelujah | Tony/Pepper, Tony&Peter

summary: When Morgan is six months old, Pepper goes back to work and Tony takes over as stay-at-home dad. Discovering the mommyblogosphere is the inevitable next step.

Winter Soldier Program by NocturneByChopin | Steve/Bucky

summary: Here’s the thing: he’s got a bit of a secret. It involves a boy that went and became famous when Steve wasn’t looking.

i was found and now i don't roam these streets by hipsterchrist | Steve/Bucky

summary: Bucky relearns himself and how to be on a team, the rest of the Avengers try to get answers, and everyone watches too much Criminal Minds.

Between a Rock and a Hard Place by ciaconnaa @ciaconnaa | Michelle/Peter, Michelle&Happy, Tony&Peter

summary: Ever since her mother died a few years back, Michelle's relationship with her father became strained in their grief. One night, after she's forced to show up at Peter's covered in bruises and in need of stitches, she remembers that even the most unsuspecting dormant volcanoes can erupt.

Brooklyn by togina @toli-a | Steve/Bucky

summary: "Captain America, what's your stance on gay marriage?"

Everyone knows that, by now. Everyone but Bucky.

Steve Rogers at 100: Celebrating Captain America on Film by eleveninches, febricant, hellotailor, M_Leigh, neenya, tigrrmilk | Steve/Bucky

summary: Steve and Bucky find out Hollywood has been busy since they went away. A historical survey, including but not limited to: one set of exploded genitals, a brief interlude in France, Mel Gibson and other masterworks of casting, eight Academy awards, several dinosaurs, and something Tony Stark has ominously dubbed “the masterpiece.” Art included.

Project: Get Bucky Barnes a Dog by ruxian | Steve/Bucky

summary: Bucky Barnes does not have a dog. Bucky Barnes does not want a dog. Sam thinks that should change. Bucky does not agree.

On My Radar by sprinkle_of_cinnamon | Steve/Bucky

summary: The Winter Soldier first noticed it when he was on the helicarrier.

The blonde’s shoulders were broad, incredibly broad.

They stretched the blue uniform in a wide span, drawing down to a narrow waist. It was a distinctly triangular silhouette. It was entirely improbable. And somehow it was strangely familiar.

The Winter Soldier raised his gun and fired. He didn’t have time for distractions, or Steve Rogers’ shoulders.

LONG (20k+)

despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained) by praximeter @praximeter | Steve/Bucky

summary: “Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.”

notes: may i say a massive fucking HOLY SHIT??????????? incredible. iconic. life-changing.

United States v. Barnes, 617 F. Supp. 2d 143 (D.D.C. 2015) by fallingvoices and radialarch | Steve/Bucky

summary: The Associated Press @AP Winter Soldier set to stand trial for Washington D.C. massacre and treason apne.ws/1og6SWE

Bucky Barnes: Former Disney Channel Star SERIES by mambo @whtaft | Steve/Bucky

summary: "The question the entertainment world is asking themselves today is... Who is Steve? Hollywood superstar Bucky Barnes was spotted at a wrap-party last night, serenading someone named Steve onstage.”

Not Easy Conquered SERIES by dropdeaddream and WhatAre Fears | Steve/Bucky

summary: In 1945, Steve Rogers jumps from a nosediving plane and swims through miles of Arctic Ocean to a frozen shore.

In 1947, Steve Rogers marries Peggy Carter.

In 1966, the New York Times finds the lost letters of Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.

notes: if you’ve read stucky, you’ve read this series. i know this. just like i know that its the most GODDAMN BEAUTIFUL series ever written. no topping it. it’s number 1.

Strays by snarklyboojum @snarklyboojum | Steve/Bucky

summary: After finding himself alone for the first time in decades, the Winter Soldier learns how to be a person again. Mostly through caring for an orphaned kitten, countless rounds of YouTube roulette, and stalking Captain America.

hold me until we crumble by queenklu @queenklu | Steve/Bucky

summary: “Sam told me you were watching Antiques Roadshow,” Natasha says, shaking out her hair. “I assumed it was a national emergency.”

notes: one of my favourite standalone fics i’ve ever read

half awake in a fake empire SERIES by idrilka | Steve/Bucky

summary: In the aftermath of Steve's return to the world of the living and the battle of New York, the academia and the Internet react.

by the river potomac i sat down and wept by peterstank @peter-stank | Steve/Bucky

summary: bucky barnes atones.

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell SERIES by AnnaFugazzi | Steve/Bucky

summary: Captain America and Bucky Barnes were like brothers. Everyone knew that.

Out of the Dead Land by orphaned account | Steve/Bucky

summary: Someone is building machines that look and act like people.

Meanwhile, the Winter Soldier tries to be Bucky Barnes.

V O L T R O N: L E G E N D A R Y D E F E N D E R

romance centric fics

MEDIUM (5 - 20K)

called out your name (but it was too late) by arahir @arahir | James/Keith, Shiro/Keith

summary: An old classmate watches Keith fall in love with someone else.

so much for the after party by arahir @arahir | Shiro/Keith

summary: Shiro gets his groove back.

i breathe disaster by arahir @arahir | Shiro/Keith

summary: After the wedding, Keith leaves Earth in search of something he can keep.

notes: what doES THIS M E AN?!!!??!!?!?! i cried over this ending. i cr i e d. actual real tears. it was so upsetting somehow. and i am so confused. and i went and found the author’s imagined ending in the comments to help understand the open one and it just made me SADDER. i think this is one of those fics that tries to teach me to read the tags and back away at the word “angst”. anyway, excellent, everything i’ve read from this author was incredible

LONG (20K+)

Alien Sex Fiend by Glossolalia | Shiro/Keith | WIP

summary: It started at a drive-in in the 1980s. Unfortunately, this is a love story; a love story about the frontman of Quantum Queef, a punk band, and a boy who rides a red motorcycle. Also, they fight aliens.

notes: i’m OBSESSED with this fic. i have read it many times. shiro as a punk singer of a band called Quantum Queef????????? and the fact that it’s the only fic on this account???? absolute POWER MOVE.

T H E 1 0 0

romance centric fics

SHORT (0 - 5K)

golden gunned girls by littlearrows | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: They’re not good girls. They have no reason to be.

notes: i think about this fic approximately twice a week despite reading it five years ago. there’s a song called gold gun girls by metric that makes me absolutely feral and would be the dream theme song for the intro sequence of the girl gang tv show of my dreams

and then my soul saw you by synchronicities | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: Lexa tells Clarke that love within the cluster is the worst kind of narcissism. Bellamy begs to differ. Sense8 AU.

givers prove unkind by emullz | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: a modern au in which bellamy is in a band, he writes an album about clarke, and she is his ophelia. also, marriage.

she sounds like sex on the radio by lecornergirl | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: “Wait, hold on,” Clarke says. “Are you suggesting I—in the booth?” But her tone is a lot sterner than she feels. Against her better judgement, she’s into it.

notes: idk what to tell you. i have only bookmarked like three smut fics in my life. it deserves it ok.

the kids aren’t alright by opensummer | Multiple Relationships

summary: The Pacific Rim fusion seven ways.

notes: probably???? my favourite? pacific rim au? i’ve ever read??? does so much with so little

Haven’t You Heard? The World is Coming To An End by Jenye @likcoln-blog | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: So where would you rather die? Here or in Jaeger? Pacific Rim AU.

MEDIUM (5 - 20K)

three points (where two lines meet) SERIES by PinkCanary | Bellamy/Clarke/Raven

summary: Clarke wears the two names on her skin like a badge of honour.

Icarus Lives by karusarchive @cluelesskaru | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: No one could ever have predicted the kaiju were coming. Clarke Griffin was in need of a new Co-Pilot. Bellamy Blake had just graduated. You can guess how that goes.

notes: if anyone knows me at all, they know i’m a MASSIVE pacific rim fan. like, own all the books and graphic novels and have multiple pacrim t-shirts kind of fan. THIS FIC was my first experience with that franchise. my first ever. i watched the movie BECAUSE of this fic.

Pony Regrets SERIES by Chash @ponyregrets | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: Octavia drags Bellamy to a My Little Pony tournament. Bellamy is deeply upset about the whole thing, but then the girl running the tournament is really cute.

The Internet Is Forever SERIES by Chash @ponyregrets | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: Apparently, the internet has been shipping Bellamy Blake (of Team Arkade) and Clarke Griffin (of Craven Cosplay). No one told Bellamy about it.

Nothing Like Old Times by LayALioness @filmnoirsbian | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: “Clarke killed some guy and stuffed him in the trunk,” Jasper says delightedly. “Your cousin’s dark, dude.”

“Yeah,” Bellamy nods, trying to backtrack. Sometimes he wishes she was actually better at making things up. “She’s a…closeted Goth.” Terminator AU.

the feel-good hit of the summer by disco_vendetta @errorofyourways | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake are sleeping together. (aka ROCK BAND AU)

notes: i think about this fic an OBSCENE amount. it’s been five years since i first read it.

LONG (20K+)

Your Mess Is Mine by monroeslittle @argyledpenguin | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: modern AU, Clarke grows up with Octavia, and Octavia's brother.

notes: the fic that got me into fan fic in the first place. top tier. 42k.

Love Will Come Through by monroeslittle @argyledpenguin | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: AU. Clarke winds up in an arranged marriage with Bellamy.

Neeeeeeeeeerds by Chash @ponyregrets | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: Clarke joins the Junior Classical League for two reasons: to appease her mother and to annoy Bellamy Blake.

Our Time Now SERIES by TazmainianDevil | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: The Ark may have been short on all resources vital to sustaining life but one thing they never ran out of was guns.On an Ark that has always been defined by violence, Jake Griffin manages to save his daughter's life and Clarke joins a gang to change the world.

Disney Channel You by Chash @ponyregrets | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: Bellamy only goes to the open casting for Clarke Griffin's new Disney Channel show because Octavia begs him. He never thought he'd actually get the stupid part.

And You Understand Now Why They Lost Their Minds and Fought the Wars by marauders_groupie @marauders-groupie | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: Clarke doesn’t understand why they say that soulmates are one soul in two bodies. Her soul has five other bodies and she would give her life for any of them. Sense8 AU.

notes: probably my favourite sense8 AU i’ve ever read?? and i have read Many

build this fire higher, higher toward the sky SERIES by adelicatepeach | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: Clarke's jaeger goes down on a Thursday. Pacific Rim AU.

H A R R Y P O T T E R

gen centric fic

LONG (20K+)

yer a wizard, dudley by dirgewithoutmusic @ink-splotch | Dudley&A Lot of People

summary: Minerva fished in her pocket without looking, because the only things allowed in her pockets were only ever exactly what she needed. “I've come to deliver this,” she said, “because Hogwarts by-laws require a professor to hand-deliver acceptance letters to Muggleborn families for their explanation and comfort."

notes: i have only ever cared about two harry potter fics in my life. this is one of them.

the family evans by dirgewithoutmusic @ink-splotch | Petunia&A Lot of People

summary: What if, when Petunia Dursley found a little boy on her front doorstep, she took him in? Not into the cupboard under the stairs, not into a twisted childhood of tarnished worth and neglect—what if she took him in?

notes: this is the other one

T H E R A V E N C Y C L E

gen centric fic

MEDIUM (5 - 20K)

Helter Skelter by Anonymous | Ronan&Blue

summary: In hindsight, a road trip with your step-brother and his best friends in Gansey's dying Pig is not an ideal way to start summer break. Sargent-Lynch siblings AU.

meet hennessy by izzylizardborn @gaybluesargent | Hennessy&Jordan

summary: Hennessy had seen movies. She knew how this went. When it came to clones, there was always a good one and an evil one. She didn’t need to wonder which was which.

life is not a movie, maybe by coyotesuspect | Ronan&Blue

summary: Ronan gets kicked out of Aglionby and enrolls at Mountain View High for his senior year. The only problem is, no one remembers to tell Blue.

Honeymoon by vexmybones | Ronan&Blue

summary: Blue and Ronan living together, no buffers, no bullshit, this is how they cope.

the bugs and alphabet by Pi @rhea314 | Ronan&Blue

summary: In which Blue babysits Chainsaw, Ronan & Blue make angry art projects, and some conversations are almost had.

romance centric fic

SHORT (0 - 5K)

Pretty Good, Right? by suddensingularity | Ronan/Blue

summary: Blue wants to have sex before her true love dies. Ronan helps out. Ronan/Blue

notes: yeah ok this is one of the three smut fics i’ve bookmarked its fun ok

MEDIUM (5 - 20K)

It Had To Be You by shinealightonme @toast-the-unknowing | Ronan/Adam

summary: Ronan hates basically everything about their business, or that's what he tells Blue, but the worst part is that he's constantly meeting cute guys and none of them are single.

darling, don’t make such a drama by shinealightonme @toast-the-unknowing | Ronan/Adam, Ronan&Henry, Ronan&Declan

summary: "Straight answers are boring," Cheng says, "and yes I do mean that for all values of straight. I do not need Ronan to share his tragic backstory, I would much rather deduce it on my own."

"Who says I have a tragic backstory?"

"With your fearsome glower and troubled good looks? If you did not have a tragic backstory it would be a waste."

C O M M U N I T Y

romance centric fic

LONG (20k+)

Playing House by itsactuallycorrine @itsactuallycorrine | Jeff&Annie

summary: Six years ago, Jeff let Annie go. She never returned to Greendale, and he moved on. Now, he's a single dad to a one-year-old and he needs her help.

A V A T A R: T H E L A S T A I R B E N D E R

gen centric fic

SHORT (0 - 5K)

call it dreaming by ciaconnaa @ciaconnaa | Toph&Gaang

After the war, Toph has nightmares. The screeching of metal, Sokka and Suki's screams, the snap of Sokka's leg as it broke from their fall. It's usually his confession that they aren't going to make it that makes her wake up in a cold sweat. She's anxious all the time now, unable to find peaceful sleep.

The cure is apparently to try and hold all of her friends hands for all hours of the days and hope that they're cool with it.

what’s in a name by ciaconnaa @ciaconnaa | Toph&Sokka

summary: At her request, Sokka teaches Toph to write her name.

He learns a thing or two about the weight his own name holds in the process.

MEDIUM (5 - 20K)

the beginning of a new and brighter birth by aloneintherain @captainkirkk | Zuko&Gaang

summary: “I’m so proud of you, my nephew.” Uncle cups Zuko’s face in his lined hand. The gesture is so tender, his palm so warm, that Zuko has to take a fortifying breath against the sudden swell of emotion in his chest.

“I want to be a good leader, Uncle,” Zuko says. “I want to look after my people.”

“You will,” Uncle says. “You are, nephew.”

In a new era of peace, Zuko works to be a very different Fire Lord than his forefathers.

the scope of blindness series by littlelionlady @thelittlelionlady | Toph&Gaang

summary: There are just some things that Toph's feet can't see.

Her hands can though.

Or, Toph learns what her friends look like by tracing their faces.

notes: geniunely how goddamn beautiful is this. like. i cried. this is so soft and so cute and it made me feel SO MANY things

All The Gentle Creatures by Haircrescendo @sword-and-stars | Iroh&Zuko

It’s said that you can tell a lot about a person by how they treat animals. Zuko may be loud and stubborn and sharp but all the woodland creatures love him.

LONG (20K+)

The Family You Choose by TunaFishChris | Zuko&Gaang

summary: Some people are born with soulmarks. Zuko has them, but his grandfather burned them off because they "make you weak."

Team Avatar has a few things to say about that.

such selfish prayers by andromeda3116 @andromeda3116 | Katara&The Fire Nation, Katara/Zuko

Katara's ambition, so long set aside for the good of others, breaks free and sets fire to her soul. Or, Katara has a vision of her canon future, casts it aside, and becomes a world-changing politician instead.

and love will be your teacher SERIES by Ford_Ye_Fiji @ford-ye-fiji | Iroh&Zuko

summary: "And you will know the pain of losing a firstborn son." Ozai loses Zuko. Iroh gains a son. And the future changes.

notes: excellent excellent excellent excellent makes me very happy indeed

romance centric fic

SHORT (0 - 5K)

on commitment by jdphoenix | Zuko/Katara

summary: “Just explain it to me again.”

“There is no way you can pass as my brother and we are way too conspicuous as two unrelated people, from different nations, traveling together. So we’re pretending to be married.”

we hold our hearts in silence by psychedelic_aya | Zuko/Katara

summary: Seventy years later, Korra tries to figure out Zuko and Katara.

oracle bones by orphaned account | Zuko/Katara

summary: The foreign, pictorial characters that bracelet Zuko's left wrist have never been covered in any of his lessons. He cannot read them. And then he turns thirteen, and his father burns his wrist along with his face.

MEDIUM (5 - 20K)

late nights/early mornings SERIES by shmulia @shmuliawrites | Zuko/Katara

summary: Whoever set off the fire alarm at 2 in the morning is on Katara’s shit list. Even if he is hot and shirtless.

the thing about dancing by anodymalion | Sokka/Zuko

summary: The first time a attendant spills Zuko’s tea and doesn’t immediately fall to her knees, begging the Fire Lord’s forgiveness, it is not anger but a resounding warmth that fills his chest.

LONG (20K+)

Fate Deferred by catie_writes_things @catie-does-things | Zuko/Katara | WIP

summary: Aang remains in the iceberg ten years longer. He awakens to a very different world.

The Sparrowkeet SERIES by audreyii_fic | Zuko/Katara

summary: Ba Sing Se has fallen and Katara has been captured by the Fire Nation; a more adult take on the potential progression of S3. AU series of interconnected one-shots.

notes: i would die for this series, particularly the last instalment. i enjoyed every single fic and it was just such a GOOD STORY.

T H E U M B R E L L A A C A D E M Y

gen centric fic

SHORT (0 - 5K)

you from yesterday by questors (sieges) @softpunks | Five&Siblings

summary: The difference between who his siblings once were versus who they are now.

Ghost Math by pinstripedJackalope | Five&Klaus

summary: Number Five needs a new hobby now that the apocalypse is off. He decides to help Klaus--and in turn maybe he'll help himself.

Then There Was Two by AnneKatherine | Five&Vanya

summary: Reginald Hargeeves finally decides to allow Grace to name the Academy. Unfortunately, he's only willing to let her name the Academy, which Seven is unfortunately not a part of.

[or how Five gave away his name]

(he definitely didn't want one anyway)

i tiresias (have foresuffered all) by ThatWeirdGuyInTheBushes | Five&Siblings, Five/Delores

summary: Five misses sharing his birthday, but Five has missed a lot of things.alternatively; number five, coffee, and the art of taking back.

MEDIUM (5 - 20K)

The Five Vetting Process by jaz_hop | Five&Siblings

summary: In which Five is incredibly invested in the love lives of his siblings, because they're obviously too stupid to choose anyone worthy enough to be their partner. Otherwise known as Five being stupidly over-protective, and incredibly invasive in the hopes of keeping his siblings safe and happy... even if he is being a stalker and a dick about it.

LONG (20K+)

You and I Together Forever SERIES by Ace_of_Spades_400 @ace-of-spades-400 | Vanya&Siblings

summary: What if it hadn't only been Five, what if it hadn't been Five at all?

A series of stories about what would have happened if Vanya had chosen a different sibling.

Sometimes the choice isn't hers.

Timeliness 1-2.1 SERIES by dgalerab | Hargreeves Siblings

summary: As the world ends, Five takes his siblings back into their child bodies on the day he originally left. With the knowledge of how the world ends fresh in their minds, the Hargreeves siblings do what they can to leave clues for their past selves on how to grow up a little less fucked up before returning to the present.

A present where they all have different lives they can't remember, there's a fun new apocalypse on the way, and Reginald Hargreeves remembers the day where all his children suddenly and inexplicably lost their minds and all respect for him at once a little too well.

Rare Birds SERIES by Cryptix23 | Hargreeves Siblings

summary: An alternate 2019 brings with it new problems and new dangers.

The two sets of Hargreeves children mix like water on a greasefire. It's hard to tell which group is unhappier about the situation -- the Sparrows, trying to navigate the minefield of their new siblings' many traumas, or the Umbrellas, trying to carve their place back into a world that forgot them.

Plus the whole saving-the-world thing hanging over them all.

Whether they like it or not, they're going to have to learn to work together.

Partners, Parents, or None of the Above by DarkFairytale | Diego&Klaus

summary: Kenny's mom assuming that Diego and Klaus were A) a couple and B) Number Five’s parents was both bemusing and amusing at the time. But that was because it was the only time it had ever happened. Now though? Now they just can't understand why these misunderstandings keep happening.

#marvel #tua #atla #hp #the 100

119 notes · View notes

emmavhq · 4 years ago

Photo

—— isn’t that EMMA VANITY? yeah that is them, sitting there at the SLYTHERIN table with those other SIXTH years. when sybill looks into that crystal ball of hers, she sees a newly mended quidditch broom, t shirts with ridiculous logos, newspapers spread across a desk, large breakfasts of muffins, eggs, and bacon, collections of autographed quaffles and snitches, makeup spilled over a bed which seems about right for that EIGHTEEN year old. anyway i’ve heard they’re pretty PASSIONATE, DOTTY, and CYNICAL. apparently they’re NEUTRAL and HALFBLOOD but i’m sure that’s not related…

SEPTEMBER 3RD, 1958, a day that could live in infamy as EMMA VANITY never let her classmates forget that she was the oldest person in their year. Overtly ambitious and clever, naturally born to lead, Emma Vanity exemplified the traits of Slytherin house.

However, it was funny as neither of her parents were Slytherin, so she really came into the house knowing no one. Mr. and Mrs. Vanity both were writers for the daily prophet. Her father being a sports cover and her mother a desk editor. They expressed some concern over it all, surprised that their happy-go-lucky daughter was not more suited to Hufflepuff as they both had been.

Emma’s first major decision at Hogwarts was to join the quidditch team. After years of following her father to games, sitting on the sidelines, the little blonde was extremely determined to go. At her first tryout, she offered to try and play whatever position was open, finding herself playing Chaser one year, seeker the next, (Keeper another) and often rallying between the two. It didn’t take long for her to become the team Captain, leading with a vigor and encouraging her teammates to dedicate their souls to each practice and game.

That all changed at the end of last year. Emma had not her focus, not seeing the bludger headed towards her. To this day, no one is sure which team’s beater was responsible. The ball smacked into her leg, Emma trying to keep herself flying instead was redirected into the nearest flag pole with her broom cracking in half right under her. Her body made contact with the wood of the pole the whole way down, landing on the support beams below the stadium seats. She sustained injuries to her arms, legs, back, and head.

Then, the scars on her arms are faded, but the one at the back of her neck would always be visible. She’d let her hair down since, a mask to hide her great failure.

The experience, and weeks of attempts at St. Mungo’s to help her out of her concussion and coma left her traumatized and afraid of flying, never mind the sport itself. Emma’s dream was to play professionally, but now that dream was on the back of a shelf.

So, she put up a brave front, trying to put forward light hearted airs despite how disheartened she had. She never wanted to be doted on, but she doesn’t want to bear the marks on her arms anymore either. She can hide behind her own jokes, a new found interest in trying out makeup, even a renewed interest in trying to improve her grades, but it’s quite clear how she feels.

Then the end of fifth year approached. Slytherin needed a captain. It took Lestrange months of convincing. But considering there were very few Emma trusted in their house, his offer only seemed genuine. He was the only other best player she knew, so if there was anybody to put faith in, it was him.

So she re-accepted a captainship for entering her sixth year. She’d be making a whole new team practically. And she loved that deeply. Of course, creating plays and plans was difficult when you had virtually no clue who you were making them for.

Wand: Cypress with unicorn hair, 10 inches Patronus: European Hare

Smells Like:

Cinnamon, ginger, allpsice

Looks Like:

A firecracker exploding, hair pulled back into a ponytail, makeup shoved off to the side in frustration, laces tied tight, headbands to match green eyes, an uncommonly wide smile, an overly expressive face, leather gloves freshly cleaned.

Sounds Like:

Dreams; The Cranberries, The Winner Takes It All;ABBA, Hit Me With Your Best Shot; Pat Benatar, Another One Bites The Dust; Queen...

Life and Relationships at a Glance

Sure her personality is...loud, but with good reason.

Family

TBD

Speaks:

At the volume she please,

Derry, and proud of it,

Just English, can’t be bothered with anything else

FACTS

She’s completely over the Slytherin pureblood schtick

After Rabastan Lestrange graduated, she really has no friends left in her house and fewer around the castle in general.

She isn’t competitive when it comes to classes, but defends her teams to the death, even forcing people to stay quiet while she follows teams on the radio

For a quidditch star she is quite clumsy on her own feet.

Emma is uncommonly clever but usually uses this as humor rather than to get ahead.

She values ambition almost above anything else, her own was to become a professional player

Sometimes she feels as if people think less of her, leading her to come across prideful. She’s just become cynical over what is worth pursuing

Her parents think she could consider a sport career in reporting but she isn’t sure that’s for her. she needs action not reaction

She’s scared to be in the Slytherin dungeons alone. She doesn’t know who hit her with the bludger, she doesn’t trust her roommates, and she is worried about her captainship.

#dawn:intro #bio #emma #injury tw

4 notes · View notes

donttellpeterparker · 5 years ago

Text

HSMTMTS Part 4

Summary: Coming into Junior Year things were going to be different. With my handsome and sweet Senior boyfriend on my arm, I could do and be anything I wanted, nothing was going to stop me... except... of course... maybe him.

Requested: Yes xx You must be hating how long this is getting xo

Word Count: 3k+

Warning(s)?: god fiNALLY SOME FLUFF BUt like with a lil angst whoops (Italics in quotation are lyrics), Written in third and first person which is something different, Yes this is following the script from the show so please no comments about how it's exactly like it because... that's kinda the point :)

Taglist: Open

MERRY CHRISTMAS BABES! HAPPY HOLIDAYS (And if you don't celebrate Christmas HAVE A BEAUTIFUL DAY <3)

masterlist

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HSMTMTS

''Can I get you to move a little closer to each other?'' Mrs Jen smiled, directing both EJ and I closer as the other cast members looked on with questioning glances. I could tell what they where thinking. What's wrong with them? They're a couple, why is it so awkward? Aren't they together?

Answer, no we weren't anymore, not that it was anyone's business. I was so tried of being lied to and left with nothing, nothing but my own wild guesses. EJ tried explaining but I couldn't hear it, everything was lie. The play during the summer, the lead part I got, a lie. The last school musical part, also a lie. Even a present he gave me was a lie, a used lie by his ex-girlfriend. Annoyance didn't even cover what I was feeling towards him.

''Come on, guys, we are blocking this as a love story, not a SARS epidemic'' Mrs Jen tried to joke through the tension. I stepped closer towards him, EJ doing the same though trying to get my attention while doing so.

''Troy, once the intro begins, cross downstage and plant yourself at the piano. Gabriella, you slowly approach the piano, and rest an arm on it, naturally. Okie dokie! Now, Let's take it from 'Wow, now that's really nice''' Mrs Jen instructs. As per usual, Peter wasn't here so EJ filled in as his understudy. I was almost tempted to get Gina, my understudy who had been trying to steal my spot take this one.

''Wow, now that's really nice'' EJ states awkwardly, his enthusiasm stiff. I grimace as the piano softly began to play. This was going to be a long rehearsal.

~*~*~*~*

''How do people like that live with themselves? How do they sleep at night?'' I babbled on, holding the cup of coffee in my cold hands. My best friend sat across from me, holding her own beverage inside our favorite little cafe.

''Like a shark. Eyes open'' If I wasn't so down I'd probably laugh.

''We've been dating for, like, three months and I don't even know this person'' I exclaimed, throwing my hands to the side before returning them back to my cup, taking a sip.

''Sweetie, it's called a blind spot. Everybody's got 'em. Why do you think I flunked my driving test?'' She folded her hands forward now, smiling a little which caused me to smile softly.

''If he's willing to do that to somebody, how long before he tries to poison me?'' Again, asking aloud but was very grateful for the ears my best friend was lending me in my time of need.

''I'm gonna get us some food'' She stood up, sighing to herself as I was lost deep in thought. A few moments later she came back, snapping me out of it.

''These are your choices, a very sad-looking bran muffin or some really shriveled-up carrots'' I scrunch my nose up, not liking either. I glanced down at them, picking up the muffin packet.

''Don't look now, but you're shark's cousin is here'' I glanced back up and then pivoted my head around, spotting Ashlyn. I smiled softly towards her. Hoping for a smile back, she gave me a timid look instead, quickly retreating. I hop up fast, chasing after her.

''Hey! Ashlyn! You don't have to avoid me'' I call out, noticing her pick up her helmet from her bike.

''No. I'm not avoiding, I just decided to make a half-caff mocha frappe at home'' She faked a smile.

''Look, Ashlyn, no matter what happens between me and EJ, there's no bad blood between us. I mean, you might have some because you're related to him, but that's not your fault'' I chuckled, getting off track.

''Y/N, I really don't want to be in the middle''

''Wait, you're not. It's not like you knew what he did'' She instantly frowned. My awkward smile fell a little, realising.

''Oh. You knew what he did, and you knew about the hot egg? His ex-girlfriend?'' I asked.

''Not till today'' She responded, frowning herself at her stupid cousin. I sighed in relief.

''But, I'm not totally surprised''

''Are you totally disgusted?'' I asked a little incredulously.

''A little, but he's EJ. He tends to do the wrong things for the right reasons''

''No, you cannot possibly defend him'' I began, growing slightly annoyed.

''No, I'm not. I'm not. Look, I know what he did sucks, but he loves you... and he's hurting right now and...'' Ashlyn tried reasoning, feeling a little silly for even backing up her cousin in the first place.

''Yeah, and what? What am I supposed to do with that?''

''Find some way to forgive him?'' As much as I hated to say it, she did have a point. But it was not going to be that easy, he did a lot of unforgivable things. Why does he deserve a second chance?

~*~*~*~*

My thoughts consumed me again once I got home. I went straight up to my room and stayed in there, even missed dinner because I wasn't feeling very well. I felt sick to my stomach thinking about everything, I wish I could turn my brain off and stop. The only thing that usually calmed me down wasn't here anymore.

I didn't even bother checking my phone once I heard it go off.

''Hey hot stuff'' I answered with a smile. My best friend laughed through the phone, sending a greeting back.

''Just checking to make sure you're okay'' She was honestly the best.

''Yeah, I'm fine'' I lied smoothly, walking over towards my bed.

''You sure?'' She asked in a disbelieving tone.

''Uh, yeah. It happened, it's over, life goes on. Plus, I just blocked EJ's number, so... Problem solved!'' Sometimes she was the only person who could see through the mask.

''You know it's okay to be sad, too, right?'' I bit my lip, not wanting to cry.

''Yeah, I know''

''Y/N, it's okay to be sad'' I looked up towards my window, smiling sadly.

''Yeah. Okay, thanks hun''

''Call me anytime, okay?'' A genuine smile now coated my lips.

''I will. You're the best. Mwah bye-bye'' I sing-songed at the end before hanging up the phone. I soon found myself frowning again, my thoughts immediately rushing back in. My body fell backwards, landing on the soft pile of cushions underneath. I let my eyes wander the star-covered ceiling, humming to myself. A few seconds later I sat back up again, reaching out towards the end of my bed for my electronic keyboard.

My fingertips were already dancing across the keys, a melody softly beginning to form. It wasn't hard to find the lyrics to how I was feeling, using my heart as the words and my hands as the melody, everything fell into place.

''I found a boy, told me I was a star... Held the door, held my hand in the dark... And he's perfect on paper, but he's lying to my face... Does he think that I'm the kinda girl that needs to be saved?...'' I stopped myself once I heard the upstairs bathroom door open and close loudly, a voice echoing.

''Thanks Carol!'' I recognised the voice. My hands stilled. I quickly hopped off of my bed and walked over towards my closed bedroom door, opening it to leave the room. I closed it behind me and made my way down the stairs.

''Uh... hey mum?'' My words formed more of a question once I saw her prepping the sofa with pillows and a blanket.

''Hi, there'' She smiled, looking up to face me.

''Whose are those?'' I asked, gesturing down towards the boy-style sneaks near the bottom of the stairs. They looked like-

''Peter's''

''Why are they here?'' Teeth were biting my bottom lip.

''Because the rest of him is in the bathroom changing into pajamas, or whatever else I gave him to wear''

''Mum'' A soft whine left my throat.

''Hold on, hold on. There's something going on at home. It has something to do with his Aunty... Her and Happy are back in town, engaged. I already called her to let them know he was spending the night here'' She finished.

''Spending the night?'' My eyes widen. We both hear the door open from upstairs, our heads turning for a moment.

''Mum, I can't deal with any more drama today. Please...'' I begged. My mum stepped forward.

''Sweetheart...''

''I have had the worst day ever'' The words tumbled out. I hadn't even wanted to tell them anything.

''Sweetie, I'm guessing not as bad as his'' I glanced down, biting my lip.

''Yeah'' Soft footsteps tracked down the stairs. I turned around once my mum glanced up behind me with a warm smile.

''Hey'' Peter greeted my, eyes a little wide. I scrunched my lips together and nodded back at him.

''Well, I gotta say, that looks better on you than it does on me'' Mum jokes, pointing towards the shirt he was wearing. Even I smiled a little.

''Uh, It's kinda comfy'' Peter responds, chuckling.

''Well, so are my birkenstocks, but let's draw the line here'' The both of them chuckle. My lips only pursed in response.

''Yeah. Well... sleep tight'' Mum said softly.

''Hey, thanks again for letting me stay. Thank you'' Peter stumbled over his words, a small blush on his cheeks due to slight embarrassment. Mum just shook her head.

''Anytime'' She said before walking up the stairs.

''I probably should've called you, and asked how you feel about me being here. I didn't...'' He began once mum was out of sight.

''It's okay. You wouldn't have reached me. I turned my phone off'' I stayed still, rocking slowly on my spot. My feet stopped once Peter walked past me, looking completely exhausted. He headed straight for the couch but stayed standing, his eye looking distant.

''So, what's going on at home?'' I asked cautiously.

''I don't...'' Peter stammered, turning around.

''Well, if things ever get really tense, you know you can always hang here'' I threw my hands to the side with a soft laugh, trying to ease him a little. He sat down, eyes still looking straight ahead.

''I'm really scared'' Peter smacked his lips.

''I'm really scared this time'' Peter knew that his Aunt and Happy were getting close, dating even. But he thought she'd never look into marriage ever again, not since Uncle Ben... He was even a little mad that she would consider it, marrying someone else. Her and Uncle Ben were perfect, they raised him perfectly and in a loving home. When he died, he watched his Aunt fall into depression, barely showing any emotions for at least a year afterwards. The funeral was the second hardest day of his life, the first being saying goodbye to his parents without even realising.

Uncle Ben was his entire support system, his role model in life. He grew into a father figure, someone irreplaceable. The thought of his Aunt May going through all of that again scared the hell out of him. Peter never felt like he was going to accept Happy into the family, the spot was already taken and he couldn't see why May would want to add another.

He couldn't see her lose another person she loved, a person Peter may even love himself one day. Losing three parental figures was enough for a lifetime.

''It feels different already'' And they weren't even married yet.

''Oh, But... I mean, that's all it is right? Different? Doesn't necessarily mean that it's bad'' I tried to soothe, walking over to sit next to him. He turns to face me, eyes and face slightly red and blotchy. He had been crying.

''It's really hard to talk about it, you know? N-not with you, but anyone else, it's like...'' He trails off, glancing at me then straight ahead again.

''Well, you can always talk to me about anything anytime, okay?'' My heart was breaking for him. I know how much it hurt him to lose Uncle Ben, I didn't know him at the time but he spoke about him a lot, especially when we first started dating.

''I know, things are kinda weird between us, but, um, we're friends, right?''

''Yep'' Peter nodded, his eyes still on me. It was hard not to get lost in them. Every second passing I could feel myself being pulled back in, the thumping in my chest growing and growing. A warmth had settled in my stomach.

''You know that'' My voice broke near the end, softening. My eyes fell to his lips before meeting his eyes again. A breath hitched in my throat, the softest gasp leaving my parted lips. My chest was growing warm, heart beginning to beat a little faster. I still couldn't look away. Not when he was looking at me with a soft expression, his own eyes darting towards my lips then my eyes.

''Uh, do you need a pillow?'' I bounced up, glancing behind me then back towards him, trying to shake the overwhelming feelings. Peter sniffled, snapping himself out of it as well.

''Or... yeah'' Peter had to force his eyes away from her lips.

''Or no. No that's great'' He failed miserably. The feelings he had been pushing down for months rushing to the surface, spilling over.

''Yeah, thank you'' He was stumbling over his words, growing nervous.

''Okay. No problem'' My words sounded stiff and awkward but I tried to smile anyway. We just stopped and stared at each other for a second, not knowing what to do.

''Good night, Peter'' I spoke up, breaking the silence first. Without thinking, I lent forwards and wrapped my arms around him. It was a huge mistake, and I immediately tried to lean away once I felt the rush of tingles and the warmth spreading around me, enveloping me like a blanket. His arms circled around me before I could move.

Peter's features softened again, thankful for the comfort he was so desperately seeking. I exhaled, letting myself lose a battle with my self control. I hugged him a little tighter, almost needing it for myself. It was uncanny, the way my body was still responding to his touch so easily, becoming putty in his hands. With my self control dwindling by the second, I needed to retreat soon before I ended up doing something I'd regret.

But he was so warm and inviting and... intoxicating. I couldn't get enough.

My brain soon switched back on, pulling my body away slowly. I could feel my heart beating loudly in my chest, ringing in my ears. My mind forced me to look down, my self control slowly coming back.

But I made the deadly mistake of looking up, meeting his chocolaty, brown eyes. I was already done for. Peter must have felt it too, looking down at me as if I was the most gorgeous and fragile thing he ever saw. He instinctively bought a hand up to cup my cheek, swooping down quickly to close the small gap between our parted lips.

My heart was wanting to burst out of my chest, warmth radiating from his soft lips to my own, trembling ones. He held my cheek still, his other hand still on my waist not letting me go. Peter could feel it too, his heart almost leaping out painfully. His emotions are terribly heightened by his spidey-senses.

My eyes drifted close on their own, my heart winning a losing battle for the tiniest of moments. Self control what?

I pulled away swiftly, my eyes quickly opening to gaze into his. The same aww expression mirroring my own.

''You can't do that'' The tone was a little hoarse, it was even breaking a little.

''I know... I'm sorry'' His hand was still cupping my face. I needed to remove myself from here before I pulled him back in for another swee-

''I'll grab you some more pillows, these ones are quite flat'' I lept away as if I was just burned, my eyes going glassy as I bounded up the stairs towards my bedroom. My hand shut the door so fast, my breathing becoming irregular and slightly strained.

A lone tear left my eye and fell down, another one soon followed, then another. Before I knew it I was crying, crying over how painfully fast my heart was beating. Crying over the tingling warmth still dancing across my lips. Crying over the boy just meters away who had somehow broken my heart all over again.

After 10 minutes I managed to calm myself down enough to stop crying, my heart going back to it's original rhythm. I gathered the pillows and slowly walked back down the stairs, leaving me bedroom door open.

The pillows, blanket and my mum's clothes were neatly folded on top of the lounge, Peter nowhere in sight. My eyes were tearing up again, a pillow falling from my grip.

Again, I returned to my bedroom, willing myself not to cry. The keyboard was still on my bed, my mouth humming the tune again as I sat down, playing as I let my heart sing the words.

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''And there's one more boy, he's from my past... We fell in love but it didn't last... 'Cause the second I figured it out, he pushes me away... I won't fight for love if you won't meet me halfway... And I say that I'm through but this song is still for you... All I want is love that lasts.... Is all I want too much to ask?... Is it something wrong with me?... All I want is a good guy... Are my expectations far too high?... Try my best but what can I say?... All I have is myself at the end of the day... But shouldn't that be enough for me?......''

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A/N: Wowzie up to 4! Here was an action-packed part! There was angst and softness and sweetness and tenderness and- you get the point xx Heart and comment what you think lovelies xx And please let me know if you guys are liking this, if not I'll stop writing parts xo

#HSMTMTS #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #tom holland #tom holland imagines #spider-man #spider-man imagine #donttellpeterparker

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narkinafive · 6 years ago

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stream round up~!

i actually really wish more of rebels had been about the war effort, particularly towards the end of s4

like obvs. i love the weird force shit. but. i feel like there should have been more of a focus on the early war effort

anyway

sees ezra; immediately bursts into tears (i love him so much he is my happy place rn where IS HE DAVE!!!)

iim weeping he’s so grown up and mature and stupid :”) bapy

him sabine and chopper are the Most disastrous and they are so good

ezra vs commander titus, the greatest rivalry there ever was

seriously he got the guy demoted twice and then killed him. amazing

and as always, ezra meekly waving at the imperial ship, then sabine immediately hitting him . i love my stupid ass son

i like saw gerrera and i like this arc but what i REALLY LIKE is the thinly veiled references to the death star

that shit butters my muffin so hard you don’t even KNOW

because the death star is SUCH a climactic moment in the sw timeline, it’s like the assassination of fucking franz ferdinand, it changes EVERYTHING. it’s the threshold of their entire fucking chronology. hgnng

rebels au where everything is the same except instead of force whistles ezra hears toto by africa (thanks @greatlakesrebel )

god i love the lothal outfit designs they look so fuckin g stupid

except hera. of course. she is divine

i seriously forgot that they killed old jho and i am. still furious. that’ slike the only npc i’ve ever loved. how fucking dare the empire.

hey baron valen fuckface, that’s the kid that stole your helmet right in front of you. idiot

dante basco is a versatile actor with an amazing range. also, look at zuko go

the glow up for jai is REAL

CAN YOU BELIEVE KANAN AND HERA INVENTED LOVE

YEAH FLIGHT OF THE DEFENDER, i really really like this episode

god i love the WOLVES

also ezra and sabine being peak dumbass!!!

lets just steal the tie defender. nbd. iconic

hello mr bitch blue

now if i saw a huge wolf i would shit my pants. i can’t imagine how scary that must of been

the wolf music is so prettyyy and the designs are so prettyyyy thanks dave

also hello rukkhkkhkhhkkhhk

fellas is it gay to hold onto your bro’s waist while we’re running from the government

kanera is. the only valid star wars ship. han and leia whO

YEAH MOM, FIGHT THE FUCKING POWER!!!!!!!!!!!

there’s a lot i love about the wolves leading them through the planet. what is going on. what does it mean. when they wake up and for a split second they’re in the liminal grass. ugh so good

i never really subscribed to the kanan is from lothal theory, but im warming up to it!

the best part of crawler commandeers is ezra doing his stupid voice. you’re so dumb. god i love you

LET’S JUST. PRETEND THAT THE SHOW ENDED RIGHT THERE. I DON’T WANT TO KEEP GOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#hera's fine kanan's fine everyone's fine #the pre ix rewatch

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artyblogs · 7 years ago

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Launch Date ch 5 One Angry Pantoran

Star Wars the Clone Wars, Ahsoka/Riyo

Launch Date summary: In which Ahsoka mistakes Riyo for an office secretary, Riyo is sometimes too gay to function, and R7-A7 is determined to be a trollish kark.

First Chapter : Previous Chapter : Next Chapter

Chapter Summary: Riyo is kinda ride-or-die for Ahsoka. She's not really subtle about it.

Breaking News flashes across the holoscreen before a male Hosnian anchor appears.

“Good evening, Galactic Republic. Welcome to tonight’s segment of HNN. I’m Lyrax Pentigure. Tonight’s top story: A planet-wide manhunt is underway by the Republic for the recapture of Jedi padawan Ahsoka Tano. She is considered armed and dangerous and was last seen fleeing into the Coruscanti undercity. The Five Hundred and First Legion, led by Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, has assured the public that they are doing everything within their power to bring her back into custody. Padawan Tano is charged with the murder of Letta Turmond and with the extensive bombing of the Jedi Temple hangar that happened earlier this week, which left at least two dozen dead and many more wounded. Joining us tonight is Rogan Cham, who is live at the Republic prison and taking statements from witnesses. We go to him now. Rogan, are you there?”

Riyo can’t hear the rest of the segment over the ringing in her ears. What? What?

“We have gotten a hold of the footage of the murder of Mrs. Turmond. Please be warned, what you will see is quite graphic and not suitable for younglings. If you have a heart condition, please look away now.”

They play the clip. Riyo’s jaw drops in horror.

“While we have invited the Jedi Council to send a representative here tonight, they have declined, citing professional conflict of interest,” Lyrax says. “So joining me tonight is a third-party analyst specializing in the Force. Thank you for being here this evening, Doctor.”

“Thank you for having me, Lyrax.”

“In the clip, Padawan Tano appears to be using the Force to murder Mrs. Turmond. Is that possible for a Force-wielder to do?”

“Yes, quite possible….”

Riyo turns off the holoscreen and lets the remote slip from her numbed fingers. It lands with a muffled thump on the rug next to her foot. Thoughts, half-formed, swim in Riyo’s head, each shouting for attention.

She’s a good person!

Could always investigate it yourself….

Don’t be so naive! That clip is damning enough.

You’re a senator, not a detective.

She ran. She ran! How guilty does that look?

The room spins around Riyo and she shuts her eyes. She thinks about how warm Ahsoka’s eyes are when she smiles. They’re the clearest blue.

If you get involved, you’ll be put on lists.

That’s never stopped you before.

You’re going to form an opinion without all the evidence?

Sure you’re thinking clearly? You’ve got that crush….

“Shush!” Riyo shouts to herself. All the anxious, extra thoughts in her head fall silent. She clenches her jaw and picks up her black data pad to send a few messages. Thirty minutes later, and she has strong-armed herself into having access to the investigation files. She opens them up and reads, but the more she reads, the angrier she gets.

Letta Turmond’s body hasn’t been scheduled for an autopsy.

All the guards that Ahsoka allegedly beat up when she escaped the prison facility haven’t been interrogated.

Despite having multiple security holocams in that prison, the footage from all the other holocams isn’t being gathered, or looked at, or submitted into evidence.

Riyo wants to throw the data pad across the room. Either the investigators are inept eopies, or someone is actively trying to hide evidence. She gasps, and her mind goes light speed.

Ahsoka’s being framed, but it’s not by just one person. The one who murdered Turmond must be a Force-wielder, by virtue of the Force choke. There must be at least one other person to hide the proof of the existence of the first. An entire team maybe. And they’re doing all this without being noticed. Who has enough power to set this all up? Who has enough influence?

The more Riyo thinks about it, the more a sense of foreboding settles in her stomach.

Does she still want to get involved?

The next morning, over yet another cup of coffee, Riyo watches the blank holoscreen and wonders how badly she’ll regret turning it on, but turns it on anyway. On the holoscreen, a female Twi’lek anchor straightens the data pad on her desk before looking up at the camera.

“Good morning, Galactic Republic. This is Ultana Anya for Coruscant News Desk on HNN. Today’s top story: Former Jedi padawan Ahsoka Tano was captured by Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker and the Five Hundred and First Legion late last night in the Coruscanti undercity, where she was found in possession of a couple hundred kilograms of nano-droid explosives. Admiral Wilhuff Tarkin released a statement assuring the Republic that Miss Tano will be charged with Treason against the Republic and that her trial is scheduled to take place later this morning in a public military tribunal. Miss Tano is also charged with the murder of Letta Turmond and with….”

Riyo turns the holoscreen off and picks up her black data pad. She’s been monitoring the investigation all night for any changes and new evidence, but none have showed up. She switches out of the Investigation site and goes into the court dockets to search for Ahsoka’s trial. When she finds it, she scans the names for Ahsoka’s assigned litigator: Padmé Amidala.

Of course she would be. And who else would do the job justice? Riyo calls Padmé’s hologram comlink. It rings twice before it’s answered.

“Riyo?” Padmé asks before she peers closer. “Are you alright?”

“Just another all-nighter. That doesn’t matter. May I talk to you about Ahsoka’s trial?”

Padmé’s eyes widen in surprise. “Yes, but not over comlink. There’s not much time. Please meet me in my office, Riyo.”

“Thank you, Padmé.”

When the call ends, Riyo packs her things and is out the door in less than a minute.

Padmé’s office is bright with morning sunlight and finely decorated. It even smells faintly of potpourri. Padmé ushers Riyo into her office and locks the door behind them.

“Have you eaten breakfast yet?” Padmé asks.

“What? No.” How can she eat at a time like this? “Padmé, have you seen the files for this case? It’s so unfair. How could they do this to her? How could the Jedi expel her from the Order?”

“It doesn’t look good,” Padmé says. She presses a rainbow berry muffin into Riyo’s hands. “I’ll do my best, but really, it’s up to Anakin.”

“What do you mean?” Riyo asks. She takes a bite of the muffin out of politeness and finds that she’s actually really hungry. She takes another bite.

“Anakin’s trying to find the real culprit of the Jedi bombings.” Padmé eases into her chair with a sigh. “He has a lead, but we don’t know how long it’ll take for him to follow up on it.”

“So all you can do is stall.” Riyo finishes her muffin and wipes the crumbs from her mouth. “But if you drag the trial on too much, the Chancellor will throw you out in Contempt of Court.”

“True. And therein lies the problem. I cannot be a good litigator for Ahsoka and stall for Anakin at the same time.”

“But someone else could stall.”

Padmé nods. “It would be incredibly difficult.”

“Let me do it,” Riyo says. “Please.”

Padmé beams at Riyo. It’s gone after a moment, making Riyo wonder if she imagined it. Padmé takes up a data pad and taps on it.

“I’ve assigned you a place on the jury,” she says. “Good luck.”

“Thank you, Padmé. Good luck to you too.”

“And Riyo,” Padmé calls to her just before she leaves. “You cannot falter. Not even once.”

Riyo nods and the door of the office slides shut between them.

The following items are not allowed in the courtroom: all weapons, comlinks, and (for some reason) Neimoidian finger traps. Riyo gives up her derringer and her comlink to Magnus before she steps into the Jury Box and settles into her seat, leaving him to wait for her outside. The courtroom is a vast, empty, intimidating room. The Chancellor sits on the Judge’s Dais, which is raised to the highest point in the courtroom. He sits in his chair like a king in his throne.

The Jury Box and the Press Box are the next highest points in the room on opposite sides of the the Judge’s Dais, and below them are the Gallery Boxes, where people can sit in on the trial and watch as long as they’re quiet. They’re full to the brim with people, and their low murmurs echo around the room. In the middle of the court are platforms for the defense and prosecution.

When Ahsoka is escorted onto the defendant’s platform, the sound from the Gallery rise in volume and the Vice Chancellor must bang his staff on the floor to keep order. Everyone in the Jury Box is too steeped in a culture of politeness and ceremony to contribute to the noise, but their cool demeanor is damning enough. Ahsoka looks so small from where Riyo sits; a spot of orange surrounded by the dark, gaping abyss below. Padmé and Tarkin take their respective places as the defense and prosecution.

Thus, the Trial of Ahsoka Tano begins.

Padmé is a marvelous litigator; eloquent and concise. As terrible as these last two days are, at least Riyo gets to watch her in action. However, Padmé has pitifully little to work with and her defense is short.

Admiral Tarkin undoes all of Padmé’s good work within minutes. He’s not the stirring orator that Padmé is, but he has a mountain of evidence, and he knows how to heckle Ahsoka, who takes his bait.

Too soon, the jurors are sequestered in a soundproof room to deliberate. On Pantora, juries must reach a unanimous vote, making hung juries possible. On Coruscant, the majority jury vote wins, so Riyo must keep everyone from casting their votes as long as possible.

The head juror is Senator Kin Robb, a hawkish woman whose apathy for Riyo is only matched by her loathing for Separatists. They’re joined by Senators Bail Organa, Mon Mothma, and a few other senators, bringing their number up to twelve. They sit around a long conference table, leaving Kin Robb the seat at the head.

“My fellow senators,” Kin says. “I think we’ve heard all that we need to hear. On the table before you are one-time-use data pads, where you will cast your votes for Miss Tano’s fate.”

“Wait! Please.” Riyo stands up.

“Senator Chuchi, you have something to say?” Kin asks.

Riyo looks around the room at the other senators and steels herself. “Yes. You see, I believe that Ahsoka Tano is innocent, and this is why.”

Riyo stands there and talks. She doesn’t stop.

Halfway into the first hour of her speech, Bail Organa seems to catch on to what she’s doing, and he settles back in his seat. The only sign of his amusement is a subtle twitch of his goatee. He catches Mon’s eye and winks at her, and Mon looks back and forth between the both of them in astonishment. She too, makes herself comfortable and folds her hands in her lap.

At the one hour mark, a clone trooper knocks on the door.

“Excuse me, Senators. Is everything alright in there?”

“Yes, trooper.” Kin shoots Riyo an annoyed look. “One of us is still deliberating.”

“Ah. I see,” the trooper says. “I’ll take my leave then.” He goes, and everyone turns back to Riyo.

“You were saying, Senator Chuchi?” Bail asks. Riyo continues. At the two hour mark, the trooper knocks again.

“I’ve brought lunch for everyone.”

“Thank you, Trooper,” Kin says. “Senator Chuchi, are you done?”

“I’m not done, Senator Robb.” Riyo ignores the groans of the other senators. Kin stands aside so that the trooper can carry bags of sandwiches into the room.

“If you are so determined to speak, then I suppose you won’t be needing any food,” Kin says. Mon’s eyes widen and a senator on the other end of the table gasps. Riyo’s eyes narrow. She knew that this might happen. She straightens up and looks Kin in the eye.

“You are correct, Senator. I won’t be needing food. If I may continue?”

“Please do,” Mon says.

Riyo talks. She kicks off her shoes to stand more comfortably, but its too late. Her feet and legs are already in pain from fatigue. At the three hour mark, another Senator raises his hand.

“Are there breaks? I would like to use the refresher.”

Mumbled agreement winds its way around the room.

“Unfortunately, Senator,” Bail says, “We must stay in here until we cast our votes.”

“You can’t keep us in here forever,” Kin says.

“Indeed,” Bail says. “We’ll go one at a time then, so it isn’t an official break. Senator Chuchi, I’m afraid your predicament disqualifies you from reprieve.”

“Thank you for your consideration, Senator Organa,” Riyo says. “Fortunately, I am prepared to talk for a long time.”

Four hours into Riyo’s speech, her voice cracks. She is so tired. Her body aches from the strain of standing up for so long, but she can’t lean against anything, not even the table. Her stomach has started gnawing on itself. Riyo hides her discomfort under a mask of indifference and keeps going.

Five hours in, Kin slams her hands on the table.

“Senator Chuchi, that is enough!”

“I’m,” Riyo begins, but the other senators cut in.

“Not done,” they chorus.

“Yes, we know,” another senator says from the back.

“Let her speak, Senator Robb,” Bail says.

“Your amusement is irrelevant, Senator Organa! Senator Chuchi may be content to play a fool, but I will not let her make a mockery of the justice system!”

“Sit down, Senator Robb,” Riyo says. Her gold eyes are narrowed and her mouth set in a thin, savage line. Kin almost takes a step back. “I’m not done.”

“No,” Kin sits down. “Please continue.”

Around six hours in, Riyo loses her voice. She clears her throat, and drinks some water, but in vain. Kin stands up and stares down her imperiously.

“You’re done.”

“No,” Riyo tries to say, but it doesn’t come out. Her throat is hot and ragged, like she’s been swallowing razors.

“You’re done, Senator Chuchi,” Kin says, and Riyo clenches her jaw. Not yet, not yet! She can go a little longer. Desperation squeezes her heart.

“But, I just,” Riyo tries again.

“Sit. Down.”

Riyo sinks down into her chair, defeated. Satisfied, Kin surveys the entire jury room.

“Despite Senator Chuchi’s valiant efforts to dissuade us, we have all heard the evidence presented in the courtroom and thus already know what the verdict should be. Please take up your data pads and vote on what Miss Tano’s fate should be now.”

Riyo pulls her data pad towards her. She taps on Not Guilty and she knows it isn’t enough. When the court reconvenes, she sits back in her seat in the Jury Box and scans the courtroom for Anakin. He isn’t there. She catches Padmé eye and mouths, “Where is he?”

Padmé gives the slightest shake of her head and lowers her gaze. Riyo clenches her hands in her lap. One of the senators stands up and reads from a small data pad.

“The members of the court have reached a decision.” He taps on the screen to transfer the information to the Chancellor’s data pad. The Chancellor nods and stands up to deliver the verdict.

“Ahsoka Tano, by an overwhelming count of,” but he never gets to finish his sentence. Anakin Skywalker barges through the courtroom doors like a big damn hero, announcing to everyone that the real culprit is Barriss Offee.

Ahsoka wants to run back into the Council Chamber and scream that she’s made a mistake. That what she really does want is to be a Jedi Knight. She’s earned it more than twice over. She deserves that title, and all she’s ever wanted was to be a Jedi Master someday. But even as half of her is begging to go back, Ahsoka presses on, making her way out of the Jedi Temple. She can’t stay in this place for another minute. The Force, merciful as It is, keeps her from bumping into anyone else on her way out. If she did meet someone, she might not keep herself together and she might even change her mind about leaving.

Anakin runs out after her and tries to get her to stay, but all he ends up doing is rehash a lot of things she already knows. He even hints at his forbidden relationship with Padmé.

“I know,” Ahsoka says, and Anakin gapes down at her. Ahsoka looks out at the sunset and remembers a different sunset seen from an observation deck so many years ago. In that instant, she realizes that she can’t just leave Anakin here like this. She whirls around to talk to him again, surprising them both.

“Come with me.”

“Ahsoka.”

“I’m serious. Come with me! Expelled. Expelled and barred from the Jedi Order. Those are the words the Council used, so they can chew on that. But you, I could never turn my back on you. No matter what happens, you’ll always be my master.”

Anakin’s look of surprise softens into incredible fondness. Ahsoka presses on.

“You could be who you want, be with who you want! What do you say?”

Anakin closes his eyes. “I can’t.”

Ahsoka, resigned, gives him a watery smile. “It’s a standing offer then. I’ll see you around, Skyguy.”

“Wait,” Anakin says. He looks down at the padawan braid clenched in his fist and takes Ahsoka’s hand. When he pulls away, he leaves the braid clasped around her wrist as a bracelet. Ahsoka stares in wonder at it, then reaches up to cover it with her other hand.

“You’re a sap.” Ahsoka smiles despite herself.

“You’re the one who’s about to cry. You still wanna leave the Jedi?”

“Yeah. I can’t…I need to figure things out, and I can’t do that with the Council looking over my shoulder.”

“I’m gonna miss you, Snips.”

“I’ll miss you too, Skyguy.”

“Have fun. Be safe,” Anakin shouts as Ahsoka walks away so that she can still hear him. “Make good choices!”

Ahsoka laughs through her tears as she walks down the Jedi Temple steps. She almost bumps into her old Astromech droid.

“R7?” Ahsoka asks. She clears her throat. R7 whistles. “What are you doing here?”

R7 beeps.

“I can’t. I’m not a Jedi anymore.” Something cracks in Ahsoka’s chest at that and she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “I’m not a Jedi anymore. And you belong to the Republic.”

R7 beeps again.

“That’s called stealing.”

Halfway into R7’s tirade, Ahsoka raises her hand.

“Stop, no need to curse. Fine, come with me, but I don’t have a plan.”

R7 extends his manipulators and presents a wrist hologram comlink with a flourish. Ta-da!

“For me? Aw, you shouldn’t have.” Ahsoka snaps the comlink onto the forearm of her gauntlet and notices that there’s a missed call. She calls back and after a couple beeps, Padmé’s bust appears in the hologram.

“Padmé!”

“Hi, Ahsoka, I just heard the news from Anakin. I’m sorry it didn’t work out with the Jedi.”

“It’s okay. Thanks again for being my litigator. It means a lot.”

“You’re very welcome, but I didn’t do it all myself. You should thank Riyo too.”

“Riyo? She was on the jury, right? What did she do?”

Padmé’s eyes widen in surprise. “You don’t know? No one told you why the jury deliberated for so long?”

“No. Why? What happened?”

“Riyo stalled the jury vote with a filibuster. She gave Anakin time to investigate. Bail tells me she did very well.”

“Oh,” Ahsoka says. That’s all she can say.

“You should go see her.”

“Yeah, I’ll go see her,” Ahsoka repeats. A knowing smile spreads across Padmé’s face and she gives a little wave before she ends the call. Ahsoka sighs. “Let’s go, R7.”

Riyo has fallen asleep in her office chair, which is impressive, considering how uncomfortable it looks. Ahsoka and Magnus watch her from the other side of the desk, absolutely unsurprised.

“She hasn’t slept in close to thirty-six hours.” Magnus’s whisper is a low rumble in his chest.

“Then she shouldn’t be here, she should go home,” Ahsoka whispers back.

“She won’t listen to me, but she’ll listen to you.”

Ahsoka moves closer. Despite the angle of Riyo’s neck, she still looks incredibly peaceful while asleep, and Ahsoka almost doesn’t want to disturb her. Riyo’s forehead is smoothed free of thought, and her dark lashes rest against her cheeks. A loose lock of purple hair has fallen across her face, and Ahsoka reaches out, wanting to tuck it behind her ear.

She falters and gently shakes Riyo’s shoulder instead.

“Riyo,” she whispers. Riyo stirs under her hand and Ahsoka pulls away. “Wake up.”

“Ahsoka,” Riyo tries to say. Ahsoka gasps.

“You lost your voice.”

“I’m fine.” Tea and honey hasn’t improved Riyo’s voice much. It’s still raspy and painful to hear. She straightens up in her chair and stretches out the kinks in her back. There’s a popping sound and she sighs and relaxes.

“You need to rest,” Ahsoka says.

“I need to work,” Riyo whispers.

“How can you work like this?” Ahsoka asks. When Riyo doesn’t answer, Ahsoka smirks. “There, see? I win. Come on, we’re taking you home.”

“We?”

“Yeah,” Ahsoka says. She and Magnus share a look. “I feel kinda responsible.”

“But it’s not your fault.”

“Riyo, let me take care of you.”

Riyo hesitates, then nods. She picks up her bag and the three of them leave the office.

When they get into Riyo’s apartment, R7 requests a power outlet and Riyo points to one. R7 beeps his thanks and rolls off to recharge. Riyo goes into the kitchen and Ahsoka follows her.

“Are you really going to cook right now?”

“I can still do things.”

“Wow, no. I promised that I’d take care of you, so that’s what I’m gonna do.”

Riyo gives a silent chuckle. “Then can you please make tea?”

Ahsoka makes tea and cooks bacon and eggs, which is the only thing she knows how to cook without Riyo’s help. They eat in the living room while watching a hologram show, and whenever Riyo says some scathing commentary, she has to lean closer to Ahsoka so that she can hear her. Ahsoka doesn’t really mind how close they end up getting. It’s cozy, with her in her customary blanket and Riyo as warm as she is. As nice as…whatever is happing is, however, Ahsoka can’t shake this mess of emotion that’s bottled up in the back of her mind. It’s demanding and needy and it pops.

“I can’t believe Barriss killed those people,” Ahsoka says. Riyo glances at her and turns the volume of the holoscreen down.

“Neither can I,” she whispers.

Ahsoka closes her eyes against forming tears. “Maybe someone put her up to it? Maybe it’s an act?”

“I doubt anyone could make Barriss do anything she didn’t think was in the interest of the greater good.”

“Then…then how long has she felt this way? And she didn’t talk to anyone? She didn’t talk to Master Unduli. She didn’t talk to me and we’re supposed to be friends. I don’t understand why she didn’t just…tell someone.”

“Maybe she felt like she couldn’t go to anyone in the Jedi Order,” Riyo whispers. “When you were feeling bad about things, you came to me, and I’m not a Jedi.”

“That’s…true,” Ahsoka says. Everyone else in the Jedi Order is fighting in this war, and no one ever complains. So who the hell is Ahsoka to complain? Who is she even supposed to talk to? Anakin and Obi-Wan are always too absorbed in the next stages of the war to decompress. Plo is usually in the Outer Rim and too busy to take a comlink call. Just keep that lightsaber up, and keep your head down, and maybe you’ll live to see tomorrow.

But Barriss couldn’t cope. Ahsoka remembers their call through the hologram booth, and the fight in the warehouse. There was no time then to notice anything other than Asajj’s helmet and lightsabers, but in hindsight, the assailant was so much shorter than Asajj.

“But still, how could she frame me?” Ahsoka asks. “I thought…I thought I meant more to her than that.”

“I’m sorry,” Riyo whispers.

“It’s…I’m so confused. Everything’s messed up. Barriss was supposed to be a good person, but…you know. And then Ventress was supposed to be Sith scum, but she’s not anymore?”

Riyo’s eyes widen in surprise. “Asajj Ventress isn’t a Sith anymore?”

“No, she’s not. She’s just a bounty hunter now. And, and she helped me while I was on the run. I guess the galaxy is a wonderful place sometimes? Everything was so clear, and now it’s not. It’s so…it’s.”

Riyo lays a hand over Ahsoka’s clenched fist. Ahsoka blinks and realizes that the mug of tea and data cards on the coffee table are rattling. She loosens her hands and the rattling stops.

“You’re overwhelmed,” Riyo whispers. She pulls away and continues as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened. “When I feel that way, I find it’s a lot more manageable to handle one problem at a time. It’s not alright, what’s happened to you, and it’s not going to go away overnight. But maybe, if you chip at it bit by bit, it’ll get better.”

“Yeah,” Ahsoka says, still staring at the mug. “Yeah.”

“Do you have a place to stay?”

“What?” Ahsoka can’t believe her montrals. Stay here, with Riyo? After that little display? Considering what she might still do?

“You could stay here until you get back on your feet,” Riyo whispers. She clears her throat and winces.

Ahsoka gapes. “That might not be a good idea. I’ll stay somewhere else.”

“It’s no problem, Ahsoka. Don’t worry about it. So many others have abandoned you. I won’t be put on that same list. You can take the couch. I’ll get you a pillow.” Riyo gives Ahsoka a smile and leaves. She comes back with a pillow and an armful of blankets, which she presses into Ahsoka’s arms.

“How do you have all this?” Ahsoka asks as she makes her bed on the couch. “I thought Pantorans didn’t feel cold?”

“Are you saying Pantorans can’t be comfy?” Riyo asks. When Ahsoka sputters, she laughs. “I’m only teasing. We don’t feel the cold while we’re awake, but when we sleep, our body temperature gets dangerously low and we could slip into a pseudo-hibernation state.”

“Oh so that’s why you sleep with sweatpants?” Ahsoka asks.

“No, I don’t wear—yes. That’s why I sleep with sweatpants.” Riyo flushes indigo and can’t meet Ahsoka’s eyes. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Ahsoka considers leaving Riyo’s apartment. When she first started using the Force, it was akin to a youngling clumsily learning how to walk. If she tripped and fell, she was only in danger of hurting herself. She’s never lost control of the Force like that before. It felt cold. Ahsoka pulls her blanket tighter around herself.

If she left now, then Riyo would be safe. It sickens her to think that she could be dangerous to anyone, let alone to Riyo, but she is.

However, Riyo’s the only one so far who’s helping her through this. If she left now, then there’s a very good chance that whatever is going on with her is going to get worse. Riyo may have learned a little about the Force throughout their friendship, but she wouldn’t know what happens when a Force-sensitive gets…unfocused.

“Ugh.” Ahsoka buries her face in her hands. Great. This is just what she needs on top of what’s happened: an ethical dilemma.

BWOOP BWOOP. R7 rolls towards her. Ahsoka gives him a tired smile.

“Hey, bud. You’re a logical guy, mind solving a problem for me?”

R7 tells her that that’s a terrible idea.

“I know. It’s just, well.” Ahsoka explains to him her dilemma in a low voice, so that she doesn’t disturb Riyo. While she does this, the pieces click together in her mind and she falls silent.

R7 tells her that it sounds like she’s already made up her mind. She has. Force forgive her, but she’s going to stay.

The machine shop is plunged in darkness. Power tools and parts are strewn about the slick, cracked duracrete floor, tables are tipped onto their sides, and sparks fly out from loose wires in the half-demolished walls. Ahsoka struggles to free herself from a mess of wide, flexible ducts that are snaked around her.

“Hello?” she shouts. Her voice echoes back to her. She finally gets to her feet and picks her way across the mess. “Hello?”

“Help!” someone calls, and Ahsoka turns around. “Over here!”

It’s Mechanic, and she’s dangling from the ceiling while wrapped in a tarp and tangled in a mess of thick, cabled wires.

“Hi,” Mechanic says.

“What the kriff happened in here?” Ahsoka rights the nearest table and drags it over to Mechanic, who tries her best to shrug.

“The entire week happened! You try keeping a psyche together under what’s been going on lately.”

“Okay, you have a point. Thank you.” Ahsoka stands on the table and reaches up to pull on a couple cables. “But who put you up here?”

A sinister laugh echoes around them. Ahsoka and Mechanic share a look.

“She’s still in here?” Ahsoka asks. Mechanic shrugs again.

“She’s a part of you like how I’m a part of you. We can’t just leave.”

“Where is she? Why can’t I see her?”

Mechanic hisses through her teeth. “I hoped you wouldn’t ask that.”

“Why?”

“If you’re not a Jedi anymore, then what are you?”

“What?” Ahsoka notices her hands. They’re ashy and streaked with familiar sickly veins. “No!”

“Ah, wait! Don’t panic!” Mechanic wriggles around, looking very much like a crazed caterpillar while she’s wrapped in the tarp.

“I am not Sith!” Ahsoka shouts. All the machines in the room shake from her anger and Ahsoka gasps and turns around to look at them. Behind her, the cables snap and Mechanic falls to the floor with a crash.

“Ow.”

“I’m not Sith,” Ahsoka repeats, her fists clenched. Mechanic wrestles her way out of the tarp and dusts herself off.

“Can you maybe chill?”

“How about maybe you chill?”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a big deal to me! No, you know what? No.” Ahsoka raises her hands. “We’re not having this conversation right now.”

“You say that, but how else are we gonna clean this mess up?”

“Shush!”

Any further conversation is cut off when the machine from last time flickers to life. The two Ahsokas turn to it and get closer to better see. On the holoscreen looms the Jedi Temple, under repairs and frequented by Jedi. A bit of static later, and the Temple is on fire. Dark smoke billows into the air. People scream and run.

“Oh Force, turn it off.” Ahsoka reaches out, but as soon as she touches the screen, she gets sucked through it to the steps of the Jedi Temple. She smells the smoke and the screams reverberate in her montrals.

“No!” Ahsoka shouts. She flinches when something deeper in the Temple explodes.

“Good soldiers follow orders.” A clone trooper raises his blaster and aims at Ahsoka, who reaches for lightsabers that aren’t there.

“Trooper, stand down,” Ahsoka says.

“Good soldiers follow orders,” the clone says again. He’s joined by more clones who mutter the same thing and take aim. They shoot.

Note Bene: Before I even started writing this fic, I needed to justify Riyo’s status as the Senator. How the hell is she qualified to be such an important politician at such a young age? How? I agonized over it until I realized that she would be qualified if she was the Pantoran pseudo-equivalent of Alexander Hamilton, hence the parallels between them.

If you’ve been enjoying this story and want to see more, there’s good news: It’s available on AO3 and Fanfiction.net. Check it out! Please leave some comments for me so I can feel better about my existence.

#star wars the clone wars #fanfiction #riyosoka #Ahsoka Tano #riyo chuchi #artillery writes #Launch Date

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anthonybialy · 6 years ago

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Trumped on Schedule

Lava's not going to be easier to drink this time. I know it looks like cherry, but even ice won't cool it down enough. The worst part of present scorching is how it feels scripted. Sure, life feels like a living parody, but at least it's easy to guess what sick twists will occur in the next chapter. Worst of all, Donald Trump is predictable. The random bouts of insults and policy changes seem capricious. If nothing else, everyone knows they're coming.

Anyone paying attention is not at all shocked by a crabby president's losing bouts with articulation as he boasts of things he'll do tomorrow. All it took to know exactly how this would unfold was spending 10 minutes checking the gap between his words and deeds, which was too long for suckers who still think he's a selfless business titan.

I can't believe a guy who thinks bonking porn stars makes him an admirable stud muffin could be slimy. At least his plastic fetish is not as gross as his belief that other businesses must be destroyed for him to succeed. The corporate raider mentality is particularly sad considering his commercial legacy of empty Trump Vodka bottles and the vague memory of his name on airplanes.

Damaging dignity counts as an accomplishment if you're sick of having to live up to standards. Flaunting an affinity for disregarding marital vows was not cool when Bill Clinton did it, either. Trump was lucky enough to run against the woman who's technically the previous lout's spouse, which led to a Republican dragging slime through the Oval Office, as well.

Our occasionally rude executive is often liberal, which is surprising to those social justice enthusiasts who think he's elbowed Hitler out of worst person ever status. If nothing else, enjoying the war between groups who often agree about abusing federal power amuses those forced to watch. Please don't accuse him of having no principles when he's clearly dedicated to being in charge. Trump is constantly turning to power that he just happens to be able to access. Debt is never going to drop, is it?

I can't believe the guy who never thought of politics as anything more than an ego massage lets spending continue unchecked. We're stuck with it short of nominating a calm conservative who not only believes in strangling government but has developed a plan for getting hands around its neck.

But at least we didn't get the entitled president who's wasting our money! Trump defenders act like he saved us from the zombie plague by being the other option, but we would have gotten through it and actually been in good position for an alternative.

Enduring a Hillary term wouldn't have been fun in the same sense the Fyre Festival failed to deliver on concert fun. But the incentive to then run competent adults would've never been stronger. Noting the president is a mortifying oaf is not an endorsement of Mrs. Clinton as is presumed in this binary world of subtle thinking.

A bout with presidential boorishness is what you get for buying Ann freaking Coulter's books. Forming a cult is the first sign members weren't following someone conservative. If you expect a politician to be your savior, you've already lost. Such truth especially applies to this particular politician, who's hoped his bellowing would distract from decades of failure.

There's no shock at how the present has unfolded from anyone who endured our ever-modest leader boasting. Take him lauding his USFL success as he ruined the football competitor. He created the first safe sports bet. A marginally-engaged news fan could've predicted how a Trump presidency would've unfolded with unerring accuracy during Reagan's first term. Successful soothsayers are merely skilled at noticing patterns. A lifetime of talking a big game has been negated by playing like AAF superstar Johnny Manziel.

This presidency has embodied politics at their simplest. If you recall, the guy in charge was supposed to defy everything. The result shocks if you're new to our planet. Welcome! Trump claims he's not a politician. That's sort of true, but only because he's not skilled enough despite his claims that he's the best at everything ever.

Making huge promises while never delivering has been his trademark for awhile, which makes him a natural for office. It's just amazing at how many people fall for it. Of course, we share the planet with awful monsters who find Bud Light ads entertaining, so never expect too much from fellow humans.

At least we can enjoy the squirming. Watching shrill broads and fake tough twerps discover that their dreamboat is merely a cruder politician feels like a kitten get used to walking minus all the cuteness. Bless those pour souls who still think his preposterous claims embody bluntness when he's just lying without skill. Don't ask any followup questions. The suckers who brought us this world never checked what a Trump business actually sold, namely Trump.

Watching self-proclaimed alpha males worship a guy who rarely gets things done doesn't make enduring this worthwhile, but at least there's some entertainment out of this. Explaining why an exhausting toddler of a president is still a muscular conservative success who's only loathed by Trump-loathing weaklings gets more amusing by the week. That poor baby needs defending. Claim he's being assailed by insiders who don't want to see him succeed to get booked on Judge Jeanine's show. How did everyone know she'd defend him?

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gyrlversion · 6 years ago

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Race for the Tory crown explodes

Amber Rudd is leading the ‘Stop Boris Johnson’ campaign as Tory moderates move to block hard Brexiteers from the party leadership.

Work and Pensions Secretary Ms Rudd, along with former minister Nicky Morgan, is spearheading a group of 70 Conservative MPs seeking to keep former Foreign Secretary Mr Johnson from the top job.

The moderates’ so-called ‘One Nation’ wing hopes to act as a ‘powerful counterweight’ to the hardline Brexiteers in the European Research Group, the Sunday Telegraph reported.

Leading Brexiteer candidate Dominic Raab was also on manoeuvres this weekend, setting out a plan to tackle rising knife crime in Britain.

And Chief Secretary Liz Truss set out her stall in a major interview, telling the Sunday Times the Conservative Party must ‘remodernise’ and cut taxes.

Amber Rudd is relaunching the One Nation faction inside the Tory party as moderates move to block Boris Johnson and hard Brexiteers in the race for power

Liz Truss (left in Westminster on Friday) today called for the Tory party to remodernise, while Dominic Raab published his plans to tackle knife crime

The manoeuvers emerged today as it was claimed Mrs May wants to drag the contest to October in an effort to stop Mr Johnson getting into power. Whoever wins the Tory race will also become Prime Minister

Ms Rudd is working to revitalise the One Nation Group of Tory MPs which dates back to the 1950s.

She is looking to thwart Mr Johnson who she once said ‘could not be trusted to take you home at the end of an evening’.

The Work and Pensions Secretary is defending a tiny minority in her Hastings constituency – but could either run her own campaign or act as kingmaker for another candidate.

Meanwhile, in an article for the Sunday Telegraph, Mr Raab sets out how he would go about tackling the blight of knife crime – one of the main domestic issues Mrs May has faced during her premiership, besides Brexit.

Mr Raab’s focus on knife crime will be seen as a challenge to Home Secretary Sajid Javid, who on Sunday announced new measures in the effort to tackle the problem.

The MP for Esher and Walton has also attempted to outflank hostile competition by addressing allegations that he used a non-disclosure agreement, also known as a ‘gagging order’, to silence a former colleague who accused him of bullying.

Mr Raab told The Sunday Times the claims were ‘completely false’, while his allies suggested they were being deployed as part of a ‘smear campaign’.

Ms Truss, who backed Remain in the referendum and was previously in charge at the Ministry of Justice and Defra, picked out cutting taxes for businesses and stamp duty for young home buyers as key policies in a Sunday Times interview.

She also appeared to be keen to show that she has a sense of humour, joking about a 2014 speech in which she branded Britain’s cheese trade deficit a ‘disgrace’ that led her to be ridiculed online.

She told the paper: ‘Sometimes politics can be in danger of being managerial. The Conservative Party needs to remodernise. We need to be optimistic, aspirational. We need to participate in the battle of ideas. We haven’t been doing.’

In the backdrop to the contest, Conservative chairman Brandon Lewis has told friends that if Mrs May survives the coming weeks, then Downing Street hopes to delay the final stages of the contest until the Tory conference in September.

The hope is it will deprive Mr Johnson of an immediate ‘Brexit bounce’ if Britain has left the EU this spring.

Allies of Mrs May believe that a long contest would offer the best chance for the leadership to skip a generation, allowing a ‘dark horse’ candidate such as Tom Tugendhat, James Cleverly or Mark Harper to surge through the ranks.

THE FAVOURITE: Boris Johnson has three times the support of his closest rival in leadership polling. But the darling of the party faithful has an uphill struggle convincing MPs to put him to the membership

THE RUNNER: Michael Gove is running everyday, and not just to be Prime Minister. The Brexiteer believes he is the only one who can see off hardliners and unite remainers

THERESA IN TROUSERS: Jeremy Hunt (left) is seen as a safe pair of hands but other MPs worry he is a bit too boring. He needs to move fast to shake the comparisons to Theresa May’s cautious steady-as-she-goes style. THE KARATE KID: Dominic Raab (right) is a Brexit purist but risks putting off more moderate MPs with his hardline Brexit stance. Clean cut with a black belt in Karate, his good looks hide a ruthless streak

Under the plan, the leadership contenders would parade their wares to the party faithful before a final vote by the Tory membership. It would also, they believe, allow Mrs May to be given a ‘dignified’ send-off by the party.

No 10 is furious about the leading role played by Mr Johnson and fellow Brexiteer Dominic Raab in opposing Mrs May’s deal – until they performed a U-turn in Friday’s vote.

A friend of Mr Lewis said: ‘By the time we reach the autumn, everyone will be heartily sick of hearing Boris and Raab banging on about Brexit, and will be in the mood for a new face – or at least a more acceptable one such as [Foreign Secretary] Jeremy Hunt.’

A Eurosceptic source said: ‘If they try this there will be a riot. Whoever takes over will need a decent run-up to the Brexit trade negotiations, to have the right team in place and devise a clear and coherent strategy’.

Who’s the real top dog in the Gove household?

Michael Gove’s wife Sarah Vine has lifted the lid on the real battle to be top dog – the one raging in their home.

Like the Tory Party leadership contest, this battle erupted last week after bichon frise Snowy got top billing by being pictured on their doorstep next to would-be Prime Minister Mr Gove.

Gove’s dogs Muffin, Monkee and Snowy (left to right)

But as columnist Ms Vine revealed on Twitter, that only provoked the couple’s other two pets. ‘Muffin and Monkee say why is Snowy getting all the attention – look how damn cute we are,’ she tweeted.

The main leadership contenders – Mr Johnson, Mr Hunt, Mr Raab, Home Secretary Sajid Javid, Environment Secretary Michael Gove and Chief Secretary to the Treasury Liz Truss – will tomorrow step up their courting of Tory MPs.

It has been claimed that Mr Hunt is the frontrunner, with between 75 and 100 MPs ‘in the bag’, followed by Mr Gove with between 40 and 50 MPs.

However, both men privately dispute the figures and a poll in today’s Mail on Sunday by Deltapoll shows that former Foreign Secretary Mr Johnson is almost three times as popular as his nearest rival. Claims Mr Johnson has pledges of support from 80 Tory MPs have been dismissed by his camp as ‘well wide of the mark’.

It comes as the Cabinet contenders all unveiled their operations, with MPs starting to openly declare to each other who they are backing.

Mr Johnson’s key allies Conor Burns and Jake Berry have been joined by Brexiteer hardliner Simon Clarke.

Mr Gove’s campaign is being aided by Pensions Minister Guy Opperman and Treasury rising star Mel Stride.

Mr Javid, who is said to be struggling to drum up significant levels of support, is being backed by Treasury Minister John Glen and former Minister Robert Halfon, a university friend.

Mr Raab has support from Brexit Minister Chris Heaton-Harris and former whip Sir Robert Syms. He has also hired two of Mr Gove’s former special advisers, Beth Armstrong and James Starkie, to boost his office staff.

THE SAJ: The Home Secretary is said to be struggling getting support from colleagues after a choppy few months. He as an amazing backstory, but MPs fear he’s not ready

Meanwhile Mr Hunt’s camp includes Steve Brine, who resigned last week in protest over Brexit, former Cameron-era Minister Philip Dunne, and junior Government aide Alan Mak.

Mr Hunt’s status as frontrunner last week came under sustained attack from rival camps which have nicknamed him and Mr Javid ‘The TiTs’ – short for Theresa in Trousers.

One Minister said: ‘We let the managers have a go last time and that went well. It’s time for someone with a bit of flair.’

Iain Duncan Smith the VERY unlikely soft-top heart-throb

Iain Duncan Smith’s arrival to see Theresa May at Chequers in his £25,000 Morgan 4/4 last week made headlines and turned the former Tory leader into an unlikely heart-throb.

Iain Duncan Smith pictured in his £25,000 Morgan 4/4

‘He’s been getting fan mail from middle-aged women all week asking for a ride,’ a Commons source said.

It is not the first time IDS’s soft-top motor has hit the headlines – we first revealed his ‘Mr Toad’ look, below, back in 2003.

And another branded Mr Hunt ‘a Diet Coke version of Theresa May’.

Mr Hunt was by far the most active candidate last week, addressing MPs on Monday, followed by a wide-ranging midweek interview.

This weekend he tried to burnish his ‘statesman’ credentials with an article in the Washington Post newspaper in which he defended Britain’s presentation in the foreign media as a crime-ridden dystopia mired in political chaos.

He wrote: ‘Please put aside the doom-laden commentary and accept my assurance: we British are neither abandoning our neighbours nor retreating from the world.’ He was also seen wooing Amber Rudd at the expensive Corinthia Hotel off Whitehall, and The Mail on Sunday has learned he offered to make her his replacement as Foreign Secretary if he won a leadership contest.

However, Ms Rudd’s wafer-thin majority in Hastings would make extensive international travel a tough ask. Their breakfast plotting came as Ms Rudd, who many Remain-backing MPs want to run herself, emerged as a powerful ‘kingmaker’ figure.

Remainers and left-wing Tories will today launch a new ‘Compassionate Conservative’ group, to counter the Brexiteers. The 40-strong body will be headed by Ms Rudd as well as other ‘wets’ Damian Green, Nicky Morgan and Sir Nicholas Soames.

The group will seek to hold their own leadership hustings and rally behind a single candidate with the best hopes of defeating a Brexit hardliner from the European Research Group. Meanwhile, Mr Raab has been warned he will lose if he becomes the ‘poster boy for the ERG’.

Remainers and left-wing Tories will today launch a new ‘Compassionate Conservative’ group, to counter the Brexiteers. The 40-strong body will be headed by Amber Rudd as well as other ‘wets’ Damian Green, Nicky Morgan and Sir Nicholas Soames

One MP said: ‘There is so much anger in the party at the behaviour of the nutters, that anyone who gets their backing en masse is f***ed.’

Allies of Mr Gove say his pitch to the MPs will be that he is the only Brexiteer who can unite the party – as it is highly likely a Remain-supporting candidate would be trounced in a vote of party members. Yet Mr Gove has proven with his support of the PM that he is not a hardliner.

A source said: ‘Michael is the only one who can beat the ERG out there in the country and stop us becoming a far-Right party.’ Mr Gove and Mr Javid were spotted have lunch together on Thursday in the House of Commons, with both camps dismissing reports that Mr Gove could endorse Mr Javid. A source in the Gove team said: ‘More like the other way round.’

Mr Javid would be a powerful endorsement for any frontrunner, but after a series of gaffes he is failing to attract the levels of support he might have hoped for. One MP said: ‘It’s always buddy this and buddy that, but I’m not sure he’s got what it what it takes to win people over.’

Last night luxury bookmakers Fitzdares told The Mail on Sunday that the firm was yet to receive a single penny in bets on favourite Michael Gove – and that all the flutters on Boris Johnson had come from females.

CEO Will Woodhams said: ‘Someone asked for odds on Winston Churchill’s grandson Sir Nick Soames, saying ‘only a Churchill can sort this mess out’. We gave him 250/1.’

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kevoreally · 6 years ago

Text

#BuffyAt20 - S03E05 “Homecoming”

AND HERE WE ARE! I am finally caught up on #BuffyAt20 with this liveblog! Very exciting. Season 3, Episode 5, “Homecoming.”

> It’s weird to see these kids talking about something normal like a dance. Not funny weird. Weird weird.

> Why is Willow talking about this being their “last homecoming” as if they’ve ever been the types to celebrate homecoming? (Didn’t Cordy almost get Bride Of Frankenstein’d at last homecoming or something?)

> Is it homecoming or Homecoming? I’m not going to get it right, that’s for sure.

> I actually don’t think going in Oz’s van is the dumbest idea. It's at The Bronze, not The Plaza.

> Why are they talking about a limo for homecoming anyway?? Is this a thing? I thought that was just Prom. And yet I remember no mention of a limo once we get to the actual Prom.

> Wow, in a rare instance, Cordelia’s tactlessness is actually useful. I mean, she’s not calling out Scott in defense of Buffy so much as from a complete lack of social awareness, but it still proved useful.

> “The judge will accept that as a yes.” Bless Oz forever.

> Okay, Buffy is still a little zoned out, but she’s a fairly decent girlfriend in that first scene.

> Was that Angel dramatic curtain pull really as intense as the music tried to tell us? Probably not.

> I actually loved and still love the “Buffy hiding Angel” arc. I think it makes a lot of sense. I think it could’ve been better executed at times, but I still enjoy it more than, say, XILLOW.

>This smash-cut to the break-up is actually almost laughable. Who wrote this one? … Written AND directed by Greenwalt? Huh.

> This was such a weird three-episode arc, this Scott Hope thing. We literally never see him again after this episode, and he’s only mentioned again I think once in Season 7.

> He barely gives a reason for dumping her! YOU AGREED TO GO TO HOMECOMING WITH HER LAST NIGHT! What a chump. You can do better, B.

> Woof. The Twins. Hello, boys.

> Them watching her is such an interesting note to close the teaser on, because it still yet doesn’t give away any of the SlayerFest stuff, you just think “assassins.”

> No, seriously, every week this theme song gets me.

> THE MAYORRRRRR!!!!!!!

> Also Deputy Mayor Allan. Love him. Was he Deputy Mayor? I suppose I’ll be reminded soon enough.

> The germophobe stuff was such an odd and interesting quirk to add to this villain.

> “Dirt. And germs. And mayonnaise.” This performance, man.

> “You have all my faith.” HA!

> It’s cute that these senior portraits were used in the “official” Sunnydale High Yearbook. (Which I own, of course. (It’s… not great.))

> “Open to all mankind.” There’s that slut-shaming again.

> Xander actually does occasionally show emotional concern for Cordy and it’s… almost nice? But then this is the episode where he starts cheating, so… nvm.

> Eddie’s friend Nicole on #FreshOffTheBoat looked just like Faith and I loved it.

> See, and now here Buffy and Faith are talking about being sexually empowered. Isn’t that so much nicer than slut-shaming?

> UGH, the scene where Buffy’s favorite teacher doesn’t know her. I feel this too hard.

> I find it hard to believe any teacher has not heard of Buffy. THAT NAME ALONE.

> Also hard to believe there’s no make-up dates for senior portraits. And seriously? When Buffy didn’t show up after Cordy said she’d get her, no one else went?? 🤬

> “just because you were Guacamole Queen when you were three” - is that in response to Buffy saying she was Fiesta Queen a moment ago, when Cordelia wasn’t present?

> Yeah, my IG post had me wonder if Buffy should’ve backed off, since this is all Cordy has, but no. This is actually great. I root for Buffy all the way. Go for blood.

> "...and whatever the hell you are, my brother. You got them spiny-looking head things. I ain't never seen that before." "I am Kulak, of the Miquot Clan." "Isn't that nice." Loool.

> “Ladies, gentlemen, spiny-head-looking creatures.” Seriously, Mr. Trick was great.

> OH NO, IT’S HERE. The dreaded Xillow.

> Seriously, can I just blackout during this?

> There’s even a soft pop hit playing in the background. STOP TRYING TO BE #DAWSONSCREEK.

> I’m sorry - eighth grade COTILLION? WHAT? (Meanwhile, I was in seventh grade when this aired.)

> Xander asking Willow how far she and Oz got is only inappropriate because of what comes next. It would’ve been so nice if they could’ve been comfortable opposite-sex friends who could talk about those sorts of things.

> This whole scene is so painfully awkward. Who actually wanted this? STOP DANCING.

> Okay it’s over bye, bye, byeee.

> This whiteboard reminds me of #CabinInTheWoods

> Okay, Buffy. Like. Why do you think anyone is going to laugh at you making fun of Cordy? We all know it’s beneath you.

> “A lot of people came to my welcome home party.” “They were killed by zombies.” “Good point.” HA.

> Okay, you know, Willow and Xander’s guilt pushing them to work harder for Cordy almost makes it worth the moment in THIS episode. But its continuation after this is just dumb.

> Like. At the very least, can’t Willow let Buffy see her database too? Wtf?

> “As Willow goes, so goes my nation” is something I say a lot, except with Nico.

> I straight up thought Buffy was just drinking directly from a bottle of wine just now.

> I like this song during the compaign montage. And hey, it’s Fastball! https://youtu.be/e97XbcKy8ZU

> I liked the Lisa Loeb song from earlier, so I may as well link to that too: https://youtu.be/NDdivQ8n5Ug

> Aww, it was so nice of the promo department to lend Buffy a headshot to use for her campaign posters. 🙄

> Remember last week when Scott’s two oldest friends were both killed, including one by the other? And we were supposed to, like, feel sympathy for him?

> How long is this campaign going on for? Where is Buffy getting the funding for all of this?

> WHY WOULD WILLOW *NOT* HAVE SHOWN BUFFY THE DATABASE? Sigh.

> JONATHAN!!!

> Cordelia only gave Jonathan $6? Even in 1998, that was nothing. At least make it $10!

> Vulcan Death Grip - that’s not the right name, right? I feel like even I know that one.

> “is that any more tacky than your faux ‘I’m shy but deep’ campaign posters?” “...yes.” Ha. And, yes.

> ”How can you think it’s okay to talk to people like this?” SERIOUSLY, BUFFY. I’m finding it hard to understand how liking Cordelia at this point in the series.

> Like right here. Cordelia *purposely* goes to physically push Buffy, assuming the Slayer would never push back. The moment Buffy actually defends herself, Cordelia calls her “sick.” That’s uncanny.

> Okay, “vapid whore” wasn’t great. But. ...Y’know. 🤷🏻‍♂️

> For real, I still keep expecting it to turn out there’s some kind of horny homecoming ghost that’s going to be revealed as the source of this Xillow nonsense. But no. Never.

> “I’m talking about us.” Loooool, of course you are, Willow. Watch out for anvils, everyone…

> “The limo was not cheap, work it out”? What the fuck? 🤭🤣

> Okay, but for real, the setup here of how Cordelia came to be mistaken for Faith? I actually do find that amusing. And it was 1998, so you could still just barely get away with the Germans making that mistake without saying, “Okay, but all that tech and they got it wrong?” It was a magical time.

> Their dresses are gorgeous and timeless, by the way. And the color scheme evokes thoughts of #TRON for me, that orange and almost-teal green.

> Omigod, it’s a TV in the woods, hooked up to a VCR. Maybe it wasn’t such a magical time after all, haha.

> I want a SlayerFest T-shirt.

> I vividly remember “She’s a Slayer, I’m a Homecoming Queen” from the commercials.

> Faith just hanging out at this dance is so cute. There weren’t nearly enough stories with Faith actively involved as a good guy.

> I haven’t ever listened closely to “She Knows” by Four Star Mary, I don’t know how much sense Oz writing it for Willow makes, but believe I’ll be looking into it before I blog it.

> Giles psyching out Willow and Xander is friggin’ adorable. I love that Giles starts to loosen up this season. Is it a response to seeing the change in his returned Slayer? Hmm.

> I love Buffy just lobbing a bear trap at someone.

> I can’t tell if the hunter is cute. I wanna say mostly. I wonder if this was supposed to be Whats-his-name from “Phases”?

> Okay, it’s vindictive, but Faith’s revenge on Scott still makes me giggle. What?? That was a very unceremonious dumping.

> And we never saw Scott again. Who was his date anyway? What became of Scott after this? Other than, y’know. Gay.

> Giles is so on point in this episode. He’s fun and caring and charming. What a wonderful highlight in a lot of mess.

> Omigod, I almost forgot about Cordy’s spatula.

> Hm. This making Cordy realize she loves Xander is… interesting.

> And then her fortifying after Buffy goads her - and being smart enough to recognize that’s what she’s doing. Huh.

> Oh wait, she forgot to mention the telephone, nevermind, she still dumb.

> “No, this is better, for - oh.” Ha, tho.

> Buffy is leaving a voicemail on Giles’s landline. Lol.

> The spiny demon offering to cut off the hunter’s leg is actually kind of a nice gesture. New OTP.

> Wait, Buffy’s voicemail actually went through? Interesting.

> “I spent a year’s allowance on this dress.” And the muffins?

> Loving Buffy’s “pick up a yearbook and prove I went to high school” speech here, tbh. Writing and performance.

> How did this guy not just turn around and stab Cordelia while she was swatting him?

> “Cordelia, the spatula.” Haaa.

> This tech is some real #VRTroopers-looking shit.

> How have I not yet mentioned the Gorch reappearance here? And how much I love it? So fun.

> Wow, Buffy goes down hard when she gets hit with that stand. Damn.

> I do sort of love Cordelia talking Gorch into fleeing. He’s just stupid enough for this to work here.

> “I don’t recall them mentioning corsages” - that’s what tips them off? Sigh.

> “I need some wet toilet paper.” “Yeah! That’ll help.” Okay, lul.

> NOOO, goodbye, hot German twins! RIHotness.

> Seriously, cute plan tho, making them fire on each other. I wonder if their Dad/Handler ever got his money. Also, so like, what happened at school the next day, with this shot-up wall?

> The Mayor immediately offers his hand to Mr. Trick, that’s endearing. He’s a very endearing villain.

> “This is a very important year for me.” “Election year.” “Something like that.” Snerk.

> “The children are our future. We need them. I need them.” Like, does he mean ‘to eat’ here? I don’t think so, actually. He talks in Season 4 about having a children’s museum dedicated to himself.

> HA, SEE, I KNEW IT: “long story,” “got hunted,” “apparently not that long.” And also written by David Greenwalt. Gotta watch those, brother!

> Oh hey Devon!

> This scene does completely make me laugh still, not gonna lie. When he’s switching the crown over the two winners’ heads and our girls just walk off. Classic.

Speaking of classic - next week, a very classic episode, with another character reappearance, “Band Candy!” Looking forward to it. Especially now that I’m finally caught up! :D :D :D

#Buffy #buffy at 20 #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy watch #buffy rewatch #tv blog #live blog #buffy blog #btvs season 3 #Buffy Season 3 #Homecoming

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reallylonglies · 6 years ago

Text

Antoni

It was just a blog post. My usual content: acid wit blended with pop culture references, capturing and bottling the anxieties of a generation. Posted quickly, without consideration.

9 Times I Questioned Antoni Porowski’s Cooking Ability.

It was one of several articles I’d written that day, each in the traditional list format. Gif-laden, headed for the facebook feeds of a thousand millennials. The emojis would gush like a waterfall. The likes would overflow.

My work completed for the day, I left for brunch. If I had known the consequences that my words would have, I would never have left the house. Crossing that threshold into the outside world took me from safety into a place of great peril.

The sun warmed my skin. The gentle tingle of flesh touching air, a simple sensation, is now fossilised forever in my memory, as with every experience of that first day. The last day of freedom. Before.

I sat in a cafe, waiting for the WiFi to connect. I summoned a bagel from a nose-ring wearing a decorative man. I scrolled through my notifications. From somewhere out beyond the blistering blue sky, thunder rolled.

One can grow complacent; I know I had. The internet was my playground. I tapped into the rich, syrupy desires of my audience and drank their time away. My power, like my audience, was limited but strong. By the time my bagel arrived, the niche had stirred, thrusting their thumbs and laughing faces. Good, I thought, they understand. The readers were hungry, and I had tossed them a reality star to chew upon.

I had bitten into my bagel before I saw it. My mind tried to pass it off as nothing, a mistake in the kitchen, a misplaced order. I know now that it was not.

Slices of avocado. Nine of them, edging my plate. Artisanal. Healthy.

I shrugged it off, took a picture and threw it to the internet with the kind of frivolity that characterised my behavior at that time. Hey @blackdogcafe when did you get on that Porowski hype? How light was my load, that I could dance with gaiety around the pitfalls of fate.

Days passed, and the incident drifted from my mind.

Sasha and I liked to visit Ikea, in those days. Laugh at scatter cushions, point at coffee tables. Storage solutions were a great source of joy to me, back then. Before I saw him.

It was just a flicker. I could have missed it. Again I tried to ignore it, to pass the moment off as the stirring of a curtain caught in the wind. But in my gut I knew exactly what I saw.

A man wearing a scarf tied artfully about his throat. A graphic tee. A selection of tupperware that would make meal prep easy for even the least capable kitchen novice.

Antoni.

I blinked and he was gone. My imagination was playing tricks on me. I ushered Sasha from the store as fast as I could, citing a disgust with capitalist mores as my justification. Even then, I felt she knew the truth. She knew what haunted me. We broke up shortly afterwards. She told me I had become withdrawn and cold. Within a year she had married a vegan chef.

After that, I saw him everywhere. I saw him reflected in the chrome door of my fridge. I saw him through the steam of the sauna at the gym, posing artfully with a branded tennis racket. I even saw his name emblazoned on the t shirts of young women. And always, with every meal I ordered, those slices of avocado.

They came with acai-bowls. They accompanied bran-muffins. Once, my last-ditch attempt to outwit him, they clustered around a t-bone steak. In each case they lay limply on the plate, winking at me accusingly with non-existent eyes.

I would send plates back, demand to see the chef. “We’ve always served it that way,” they claimed, but I knew.

I hadn’t checked my blog for notifications in weeks. It was self-care, I told my friends. I just needed to unplug for a while. They could not have known the fear I felt as I tentatively logged into my laptop, my hand shaking as I clicked.

There it was, that thoughtless article. Three hundred thousand shares and counting. I watched the number increase, second by second. Was that a gently tanned face in the reflection of my screen?

An email notification roused me from my reverie. I clicked, and my fate was sealed.

It was an invitation to come to the head office of a prestigious magazine. They wanted me to write a piece for them. I was a freelancer; this was nothing new to me.

In trepidation, I made the journey. The heat that day was oppressive. Even though my growing fear had numbed my fragile body, my dry mouth told me I needed a drink.

I bought a bottle of soft drink from the cafe on the station platform. With care, I unscrewed the cap and took a sip. An unfamiliar taste engulfed my mouth and I spluttered. Through the tears brought to my eyes by the momentary distress, I squinted at the label.

Lemon and Yuzu.

Perhaps some people would not know the word. Perhaps some people would have racked their brains trying to remember where they had heard it before. Perhaps some people might have Googled it.

Those people are free, and they do not know the privilege of their liberty. No search engine could assist me now. It would only have confirmed what I already knew.

He was everywhere.

I passed artwork in the square outside the offices I was visiting. Small children scampered over a statue of a giant pepper, a comically large knife protruding from its bulk. An enormous cucumber, skewered on a gargantuan fork, loomed out of the concrete like the tentacle of some unearthly being. I rounded a corner and my heart stopped.

Some insensitive fool claiming to be an artist had erected an enormous mandoline slicer. Atop the preposterous structure, there it stood: an avocado of inhuman proportions.

There was a time when I might have laughed. I would have deigned to share the gift of my mirth on Twitter: what fool thinks you can use a mandoline slicer to chop an avocado? There was a time, before, when I might even have levelled my wit at the man himself. A chance for @antoni to prove his worth. I staggered towards my destination.

The woman on the front desk asked me if I was ok. I shuddered away from the creamy green colour of her blouse. A necklace of heavy, round wooden beads hung from her neck. He had been here.

I took the lift to the eighth floor, sank into an office chair. My interviewers stared. There were two of them, but I don’t remember details. They were pleased I had been able to come in. They loved my work. Especially my recent piece on -

I interrupted them. I could not bear to hear his name.

The storm that had been brewing all day in that oppressive heat suddenly let rip over the city. The clouds unburdened themselves of rain as if it were evidence of some heinous crime. I would not look out of the window. I still shuddered at the thought of the horrifying statues below.

One of the people in the room spoke, but I didn’t hear. My throat was tightening, as if restricted by an elegantly tied scarf.

“Pardon?” I asked, sitting on my hands to hide the shaking.

“He’ll be coming in this afternoon. Our usual interviewer broke his ankle jogging. We’d really appreciate you being able to do this short-notice.”

His words washed over me.

“Would you like to get yourself set up for the interview in here?”

I nodded, dumbstruck.

“We’ll send in some lunch for you,” I do not remember the faces of the men who spoke. I only remember those final words.

I plugged in my laptop. Placing my pen artfully atop my artisanal leather and bamboo fibre notebook, I arranged everything carefully. I snapped a picture. I shared it.

All of this on autopilot, all of this without thought.

Lunch arrived. Tex-Mex. Through my horror I managed to consume a couple of potato chips and some salsa. I hid the guacamole in a pot plant. I moved the pot plant to a different office.

As I returned to my desk I overheard the woman in the avocado shirt speaking to someone in reception, “Just this way, Mr…”

I didn’t hear the surname. Or did my terror strike it from my mind?

You know who she was speaking to. In my haggard, frazzled state I had not put two and two together. How could I? I was a wreck.

Seconds later, it all made sense. Words that I had ignored during that morning meeting became clear and urgent memories.

“It would be great for you to meet him, you’ve become his online nemesis in a way.”

“A lot of our readers are big fans of his, and we’d like to give him an opportunity to defend himself.”

“Just this way, Mr Porowski.”

A red scarf tied artfully around his neck. A graphic tee with a list of names. The scent of chinese lime and avocado.

I burst through the floor-to-ceiling window. I fell with the rain.

The mandoline slicer claimed its first and last victim, and the last word I ever heard, whispered in the wind:

Antoni.

#Antoni porowski #queer eye #gothic #fiction #fic #lovecraft

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deniscollins · 7 years ago

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A Voice of Hate in America’s Heartland

If you owned a welding company, what would you do if informed that one of the welders was a committed organizer for the Traditionalist Worker Party, a Nazi-group, who did podcasts for Radio Aryan, and posted Nazi support material on his Facebook page: (1) do nothing and respect his freedom of speech, (2) speak with him about restricting his political viewpoints, (3) fire him, or (4) something else (if so, what)? Why? What are the ethics underlying your decision?

Tony and Maria Hovater were married this fall. They registered at Target. On their list was a muffin pan, a four-drawer dresser and a pineapple slicer.

Ms. Hovater, 25, was worried about Antifa bashing up the ceremony. Weddings are hard enough to plan for when your fiancé is not an avowed white nationalist.

But Mr. Hovater, in the days leading up to the wedding, was somewhat less anxious. There are times when it can feel toxic to openly identify as a far-right extremist in the Ohio of 2017. But not always. He said the election of President Trump helped open a space for people like him, demonstrating that it is not the end of the world to be attacked as the bigot he surely is: “You can just say, ‘Yeah, so?’ And move on.”

It was a weeknight at Applebee’s in Huber Heights, a suburb of Dayton, a few weeks before the wedding. The couple, who live in nearby New Carlisle, were shoulder to shoulder at a table, young and in love. He was in a plain T-shirt, she in a sleeveless jean jacket. She ordered the boneless wings. Her parents had met him, she said, and approved of the match. The wedding would be small. Some of her best friends were going to be there. “A lot of girls are not really into politics,” she said.

In Ohio, amid the row crops and rolling hills, the Olive Gardens and Steak ’n Shakes, Mr. Hovater’s presence can make hardly a ripple. He is the Nazi sympathizer next door, polite and low-key at a time the old boundaries of accepted political activity can seem alarmingly in flux. Most Americans would be disgusted and baffled by his casually approving remarks about Hitler, disdain for democracy and belief that the races are better off separate. But his tattoos are innocuous pop-culture references: a slice of cherry pie adorns one arm, a homage to the TV show “Twin Peaks.” He says he prefers to spread the gospel of white nationalism with satire. He is a big “Seinfeld” fan.

“I guess it seems weird when talking about these type of things,” he says. “You know, I’m coming at it in a mid-90s, Jewish, New York, observational-humor way.”

Mr. Hovater, 29, is a welder by trade. He is not a star among the resurgent radical American right so much as a committed foot soldier — an organizer, an occasional podcast guest on a website called Radio Aryan, and a self-described “social media villain,” although, in person, his Midwestern manners would please anyone’s mother. In 2015, he helped start the Traditionalist Worker Party, one of the extreme right-wing groups that marched in Charlottesville, Va., in August, and again at a “White Lives Matter” rally last month in Tennessee. The group’s stated mission is to “fight for the interests of White Americans.’’

Its leaders claim to oppose racism, though the Anti-Defamation League says the group “has participated in white supremacist events all over the country.” On its website, a swastika armband goes for $20.

If the Charlottesville rally came as a shock, with hundreds of white Americans marching in support of ideologies many have long considered too vile, dangerous or stupid to enter the political mainstream, it obscured the fact that some in the small, loosely defined alt-right movement are hoping to make those ideas seem less than shocking for the “normies,” or normal people, that its sympathizers have tended to mock online.

And to go from mocking to wooing, the movement will be looking to make use of people like the Hovaters and their trappings of normie life — their fondness for National Public Radio, their four cats, their bridal registry.

“We need to have more families. We need to be able to just be normal,” said Matthew Heimbach, the leader of the Traditionalist Worker Party, in a podcast conversation with Mr. Hovater. Why, he asked self-mockingly, were so many followers “abnormal”?

Mr. Hovater replied: “I mean honestly, it takes people with, like, sort of an odd view of life, at first, to come this way. Because most people are pacified really easy, you know. Like, here’s some money, here’s a nice TV, go watch your sports, you know?”

He added: “The fact that we’re seeing more and more normal people come is because things have gotten so bad. And if they keep getting worse, we’ll keep getting more, just, normal people.”

Flattening the Edges

Mr. Hovater’s face is narrow and punctuated with sharply peaked eyebrows, like a pair of air quotes, and he tends to deliver his favorite adjective, “edgy,” with a flat affect and maximum sarcastic intent. It is a sort of implicit running assertion that the edges of acceptable American political discourse — edges set by previous generations, like the one that fought the Nazis — are laughable.

“I don’t want you to think I’m some ‘edgy’ Republican,” he says, while flatly denouncing the concept of democracy.

“I don’t even think those things should be ‘edgy,’” he says, while defending his assertion that Jews run the worlds of finance and the media, and “appear to be working more in line with their own interests than everybody else’s.”

His political evolution — from vaguely leftist rock musician to ardent libertarian to fascist activist — was largely fueled by the kinds of frustrations that would not seem exotic to most American conservatives. He believes the federal government is too big, the news media is biased, and that affirmative action programs for minorities are fundamentally unfair.

Ask him how he moved so far right, and he declares that public discourse has become “so toxic that there’s no way to effectively lobby for interests that involve white people.” He name-drops Murray Rothbard and Hans-Hermann Hoppe, architects of “anarcho-capitalism,” with its idea that free markets serve as better societal regulators than the state. And he refers to the 2013 science-fiction movie “Pacific Rim,” in which society is attacked by massive monsters that emerge from beneath the Pacific Ocean.

“So the people, they don’t ask the monsters to stop,” he says. “They build a giant robot to try to stop them. And that’s essentially what fascism is. It’s like our version of centrally coming together to try to stop another already centralized force.”

Mr. Hovater grew up on integrated Army bases and attended a mostly white Ohio high school. He did not want for anything. He experienced no scarring racial episodes. His parents, he says, were the kinds of people who “always assume things aren’t going well. But they don’t necessarily know why.”

He is adamant that the races are probably better off separated, but he insists he is not racist. He is a white nationalist, he says, not a white supremacist. There were mixed-race couples at the wedding. Mr. Hovater said he was fine with it.

“That’s their thing, man,” he said.

Online it is uglier. On Facebook, Mr. Hovater posted a picture purporting to show what life would have looked like if Germany had won World War II: a streetscape full of happy white people, a bustling American-style diner and swastikas everywhere.

“What part is supposed to look unappealing?” he wrote.

In an essay lamenting libertarianism’s leftward drift, he wrote: “At this rate I’m sure the presidential candidate they’ll put up in a few cycles will be an overweight, black, crippled dyke with dyslexia.”

After he attended the Charlottesville rally, in which a white nationalist plowed his car into a group of left-wing protesters, killing one of them, Mr. Hovater wrote that he was proud of the comrades who joined him there: “We made history. Hail victory.”

In German, “Hail victory” is “Sieg heil.”

A Growing Movement

Before white nationalism, his world was heavy metal. He played drums in two bands, and his embrace of fascism, on the surface, shares some traits with the hipster’s cooler-than-thou quest for the most extreme of musical subgenres. Online, he and his allies can also give the impression that their movement is one big laugh — an enormous trolling event put on by self-mocking, politically incorrect kids playing around on the ash heap of history.

On the party’s website, the swastika armband is formally listed as a “NSDAP LARP Armband.” NSDAP was the abbreviation for Hitler’s Nazi Party. LARP stands for “Live-Action Role Playing,” a term originally meant to describe fantasy fans who dress up as wizards and warlocks.

But the movement is no joke. The party, Mr. Hovater said, is now approaching 1,000 people. He said that it has held food and school-supply drives in Appalachia. “These are people that the establishment doesn’t care about,” he said.

Marilyn Mayo, a senior research fellow at the Anti-Defamation League’s Center on Extremism, estimated that the Traditionalist Worker Party had a few hundred members at most, while Americans who identify as “alt-right” could number in the tens of thousands.

“It is small in the grand scheme of things, but it’s one of the segments of the white supremacist movement that’s grown over the last two years,” she said.

It was midday at a Panera Bread, and Mr. Hovater was describing his political awakening over a turkey sandwich. He mentioned books by Charles Murray and Pat Buchanan. He talked about his presence on 4chan, the online message board and alt-right breeding ground (“That’s where the scary memes come from,” he deadpanned). He spoke dispassionately about the injustice of affirmative action, about the “malice directed toward white people” in popular media, about how the cartoon comedy “King of the Hill” was the last TV show to portray “a straight white male patriarch” in a positive light.

He declared the widely accepted estimate that six million Jews died in the Holocaust “overblown.” He said that while the Nazi leader Heinrich Himmler wanted to exterminate groups like Slavs and homosexuals, Hitler “was a lot more kind of chill on those subjects.”

“I think he was a guy who really believed in his cause,” he said of Hitler. “He really believed he was fighting for his people and doing what he thought was right.”

He said he wanted to see the United States become “an actually fair, meritocratic society.” Absent that, he would settle for a white ethno-state “where things are fair, because there’s no competing demographics for government power or for resources.”

His fascist ideal, he said, would resemble the early days in the United States, when power was reserved for landowners “and, you know, normies didn’t really have a whole hell of a lot to say.”

His faith in mainstream solutions slipped as he toured the country with one of the metal bands. “I got to see people who were genuinely hurting,” he said. “We played coast to coast, but specifically places in Appalachia, and a lot of the Eastern Seaboard had really been hurt.”

Friendships Made and Lost

In 2012, Mr. Hovater was incensed by the media coverage of the Trayvon Martin shooting, believing the story had been distorted to make a villain of George Zimmerman, the white man who shot the black teenager. By that time, he and Ms. Hovater had been dating for a year or two. She was a small-town girl who had fallen away from the Catholic Church (“It was just really boring”), and once considered herself liberal.

But in the aftermath of the shooting, Ms. Hovater found herself on social media “questioning the official story,” taking Mr. Zimmerman’s side and finding herself blocked by some of her friends. Today, she says, she and Mr. Hovater are “pretty lined up” politically.

As they let their views be known, friends left and friends stayed.

“His views are horrible and repugnant and hate-filled,” said Ethan Reynolds, a Republican and city councilman in New Carlisle, Ohio, who said he had befriended Mr. Hovater without knowing his extremism. “He was an acquaintance I regret knowing.”

Jake Nolan, a guitarist in one of the bands Mr. Hovater played in, stuck with him. “There are people who literally go around Sieg Heiling,” he said. “Then you have the people who just want the right to be proud of their heritage” — people, he said, who are standing up against “what appears to be an increasingly anti-white America.”

Mr. Hovater befriended Mr. Heimbach in February 2015 at the Conservative Political Action Conference. Mr. Heimbach, who two years earlier had founded a White Student Union at Towson University in Maryland, was holding a protest outside the proceedings and praising Vladimir Putin. The pair founded the Traditionalist Worker Party in the spring.

Soon Mr. Hovater was telling people that he would be running for a council seat in his hometown, New Carlisle, population 5,600. The announcement caught the attention of the Southern Poverty Law Center and the heavy metal press. But he never filed papers.

On a recent weekday evening, Mr. Hovater was at home, sautéing minced garlic with chili flakes and waiting for his pasta to boil. The cats were wandering in and out of their tidy little rental house. Books about Mussolini and Hitler shared shelf space with a stack of Nintendo Wii games. A day earlier, a next-door neighbor, whom Mr. Hovater doesn’t know very well, had hung a Confederate flag in front of his house.

“This is kind of brackish territory here,” Mr. Hovater said. “A lot of people consider Cincinnati the most northern Southern city.”

The pasta was ready. Ms. Hovater talked about how frightening it was this summer to watch from home as the Charlottesville rally spun out of control. Mr. Hovater said he was glad the movement had grown.

They spoke about their future — about moving to a bigger place, about their honeymoon, about having kids.

#Freedom of Speech

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