#only star wars fans will get this

[keferon]

May I ask what were the best transformers media you ever saw/read?

Well Transformers Prime, Transformers 1986 and IDW comics are having the first place that’s for sure

And then the second place is kind of shared by Fall of Cybertron, Exodus, Prime wars trilogy, Robots in disguise(2001) and Transformers One.

The third place goes to G1, Animated, Earthspark, Armada, War for Cybertron Netflix series, Aligned Robots in disguise, Bumblebee, Rise of the Beasts and Cyberverse because I only liked some little parts of them.

And then I also saw some of the Bay movies, Victory and Headmasters and didn’t like them at all.

Separate first place for J-Decker. It is not exactly Transformers but it is a show about giant robots and I loved it

[vampirenicotine]

i usually stay quiet because i don’t like to engage in fandoms of any kind anymore, but the things i’ve been shown from iwtv twitter is concerning. idk what assad/armand fans think they’re trying to achieve by disrespecting jacob, delainey, sam, and the rest of the cast by saying armand is the sole reason anyone watches this show and that he’s the best actor on the show etc, but yall are not doing yourselves any favors. this is not tvd. this is not the cw. using assad for agenda shipping purposes because you hate sam/lestat, and reducing louis to an object or a prize to be won, and trying to knock louis/jacob out of his lead position on a show where he is the best/most nuanced written gay BLACK male character in history is disgusting and so extremely disrespectful to jacob who is literally the cutest/kindest human being ever.

this show is a team effort. everyone involved with iwtv are master class actors, writers, set designers, etc and when it comes to acting—to credit one actor for the show’s success is very off putting. (especially when you take into account delainey had only two weeks to prepare for claudia and gave the performance of a lifetime.) there are many who do not engage with this fandom because of takes like this and all this will do is put people off assad/armand which is the last thing anyone needs. cast members of color and characters of color should not be pit against each other on the ONLY show on tv right now that allows them to be great.

[tigerbears]

Homestuck Spoilers Out of Context.

[cienie-isengardu]

You know how Tor Vizsla, the enemy of Jaster Mereel addressed him by name, even years after Mereel's death? With special mention of this two interaction he had with Jango Fett:

(source - Jango Fett: Open Seasons #4)

And then, there is Montross - who abandoned Jaster Mereel on battlefield after Mereel saved his life - talking about his former leader as "old fool Jaster"

Screenshot from Bounty Hunter game (Montross cutscenes can be seen on YT here)

And I think this says a lot about Jaster, Tor and Montross; how the sworn enemy is more respectful than Jaster's own ex-comrade.

[prncssguya]

i haven’t been online for a while and just woke up to the worst news. i fucking knew they would do this. as much as i love to hope, i know in this capitalistic system and toxic fanbase, we didn’t stand a chance. idk why i even keep getting excited about original content when it’s going to get axed. listening and pandering to your loudest dumbest racist incel side of your fanbase was the dumbest fucking decision. shame on you star wars. we got your message loud and clear — women, queer, and POC don’t matter

[bereft-of-frogs]

I'm wondering if my longstanding refusal to watch the 2008 Clone Wars is contributing to my utter inability to comprehend all the 'star wars is RUINED' complaints.

if I can contentedly exist refusing to acknowledge the thing that 99% of the fandom considers to be essential canon, that makes up the majority of the fanworks, art, and posts, I think you can handle disregarding one self-contained, 8 episode series that takes place a hundred years before anything else if you really want to. I really think you're going to live.

[quietscrappy]

sorry if i alienate all my followers with my star wars posting, i have three brain rots that activate a full power every now and then but remaining rotating in my mind at all moments, Kingdom Hearts/FF, Star Wars and Lord of the Rings.

[weregonnabecoolbeans]

Rebels has been a comfort show for me longer than I’ve actually cared about star wars (my grade 6 self loved watching Disney XD on tv what can I say🤷🏻‍♀️)

And the main reason is because of how much the ghost crew loved each other..they were a family and I loved that about them

Anyways, I haven’t felt that same comfort until The Bad Batch and I just love it so much

I’m gonna feel super empty when this season ends :(

[skygirlstars]

every time someone says “Anakin wouldn’t have turned to the dark side if Ahsoka hadn’t left the Order” an angel loses its wings

[pinkeoni]

Why do you want your characters to remain static over a multi-year time jump? Why do you want them to act as if no time has passed at all, when it has? Why do you want characters to always act the same and not react to their new changing environment?

[triscribe]

Thank you for your honesty! That's okay! Tell me about Finn. Now I'm intrigued! 😁

FINN my BOY

The Force Awakens introduced so much potential, with this literal no-name stormtrooper who could have come from anywhere in the galaxy, taken and molded and pushed into serving the First Order with no identity beyond being a good little cog in the machine, and the first time he gets to see up close and personal how that machine steam rolls over innocent people in its path, his reaction is to give a hard pass

I just. Words do not describe how much I love this concept. And even better, this is a main character, one part of the Big Trio we were meant to get for this trilogy, he's not a throwaway background "move the plot a step forward but otherwise don't do anything" guy, he's not a traitor who does one helpful thing and then dies for it in the name of freedom or revolution, he gets out, and even with clear reluctance, he finds something bigger and better to throw himself into

And yeah, there are the obvious parallels with the clone troopers of the old Republic, literally created to be cogs in their machine, born with numbers instead of names and given extremely little autonomy but for what they carved out for themselves in a hundred thousand unique little ways - but even beyond all of that, I look at the clones, I look at FN and his fellows, I feel like Maz Kanata seeing the same eyes in different faces

Those are children raised to be living weapons

Those are people raised strictly and sternly and told they have no choice, why would they even want a silly choice, this is the best and only option, this is the only thing they'll ever be good for-

But Star Wars is all about choice

Yes, Finn's squadmate died in front of him, left that bloody handprint on his helmet, but that's not a loss that rips apart his world. That's not a farmstead burned down, a species massacred, a planet obliterated. That's his reality, that he and all his fellow troopers are meant to live and fight and die for those above them - it should, in theory, be the easiest thing in the world to stand up, to shoot, to get back in that transport and return to the First Order and continue onward

But it isn't

Maybe Finn could have been Force sensitive, maybe that was never in the cards, but regardless, he heard those screams and saw the falling bodies, he went back up on the shuttle and saw a captured enemy pilot and he chose

The greatest tragedy of the clone troopers is that at the final moment, when Operation Knightfall kicked into full gear, they didn't get to choose. A set of pre-determined words flipped a switch inside their heads, and good soldiers follow orders, sir, if the Emperor declares these folks are traitors, well, traitors to the Empire must die, and once they're all dead we move on to the next set of orders and the next, good soldiers follow orders, so do good citizens of the Empire, those that don't get to deal with the consequences

How many of their ghosts got to cheer, when a nobody no-name kid, molded to wear white armor and shaped to hold a blaster in his hands, heard his orders and refused, and then went on to choose a course of action that helped take down the biggest superweapon the galaxy had ever seen?

The clones seized what choices they could, with their names and their paint and whatever else they managed, up until the biggest choice of all was stripped from them

FN-2187 didn't even get those tiny scraps of self-expression, of identity, of any choice at all, until he found himself on the edge of a precipice all his fellow squad members jumped into without a second thought, and pulled himself away

The rest of the sequels chickening out of doing a hell of a lot more with that is definitely in the top five travesties of the entire damn franchise, I swear.

[musewrangler]

Veers hates the navy on principle, but Firmus Piett is just another example of why. A timid little weakling who doesn't show appropriate respect to rank. WHO thought it was a good idea to have him transferred to the Lady? And why must Ozzel punish Veers by making him work with the man? Nothing good will come of it.

[rainbowresurrection]

I wish the Star Trek franchise would've had a few canon books

[jynjackets]

what kind of fucking job is expert movie critic helper 😂

[kaxtwenty]

I find debates on, “who would’ve been the better master for Anakin,” pretty pointless because as long as Palpatine’s there to constantly dangle everything Anakin ever wanted right in front of him, it’ll always go the same way.

Anakin’s core flaw is his need for control, a result of his trauma from growing up enslaved. It doesn’t matter who is tasked with teaching him to overcome it, he just can’t so long as there’s a devil there constantly explaining every reason why he doesn’t actually have to.

The only thing that really changes is who duels him on Mustafar.

[svtskneecaps]

literally it's 3am where i live and i'm on mobile but FUCK IT i haven't posted any actual writing in like a YEAR on this blog whose description include the words "I WRITE" and i can't tell if i'm even going anywhere with this so fuck it under the cut is the prospective absolute mess of the first chapter of the flipo family time loop fic. (for clarity, flipo family as in slime, mariana, and juanaflippa) this covers loop 0, aka the relevant parts of canon. words: 1630

parts of it i popped off with and other parts i hate; up to you to identify them. also the italics and other formatting got erased when i copy pasted and i'm re-adding all of it by hand so if i missed a spot, no i didn't. if i missed an accent on a letter in spanish that was a typo, if i missed a ¡ or ¿ that may have been on purpose.

oh and for obvious reasons, content warning for mentions and mild descriptions of child death and child murder. no blood, and most of it is a three word mention; i'd say the brief paragraph beginning "Tilín didn't scream" is most of the reason this warning exists.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

He’d been hoping for a bright, sunny day to start their vacation, but was sorely disappointed. The portal had apparently taken them pretty far, since they’d gone from noon to night time. Talk about jetlag. They hadn’t even been on a plane.

“What happened to the other guys?” he wondered aloud as he stepped onto the platform.

“Yeah no clue,” Phil said, scanning the empty station. “Thought they’d meet us here.”

“Guys!” one of the Spanish speakers--Vegetta, he’d said, when they’d all met up at the first station--called, from a lectern at the wall. “There is a book!”

They crowded around as he read the instructions aloud--something about pressure plates, Slime wasn’t paying that close of attention. He was a little more preoccupied with making sure it only felt like his brain was dripping out of his ears. That would be kind of embarrassing.

Which was not to say that he wasn’t enjoying the constant onslaught of people talking over each other using words he may or may not understand. In fact, it was the opposite; he was frankly thriving in the absolute chaos that kicked back up around him as a timer appeared in the wrist communicators they’d been provided along with their tickets.

“Como se dice ‘we are going to die now’?” He giggled, chasing Phil and Fit to one end of the station.

“¡Vamos a morir!” shouted Spiderman, echoed seconds later by the black bear in the collared shirt.

Giddy over the high of attempting to use his high school foreign language for the first time maybe ever, Slime absolutely didn’t contribute much to solving the puzzle, and before long the sound of the timer ticking down was accompanied by a loud buzzing alarm.

“It’s been an honor!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs. “It’s been an honor!”

The bear ran past them again, shouting, “I’m going to die!” in English this time.

“Adiós amigos!” Slime yelled.

The countdown ended.

And then his communicator buzzed, and there was a video playing on the screen, showing a cartoonish yellow duck in front of a blurry beach stock photo. He skimmed it absently--some generic welcoming message and another side quest for them--distracted by Maximus audibly losing his shit laughing across the station.

“Come on, I’m trying to take a vacation, I gotta work now?” Fit complained. “This is ridiculous.”

Slime wanted to jump on that bit, but the message cut off with coordinates marred by static and the noise of the emergency weather alert system and he lost his train of thought completely.

“I got the English book!” Spreen called, holding it with two fingers like it had personally offended him.

“English leader,” Vegetta said, seeming to find that amusing.

“English leader.” Spreen laughed and flicked the book away. Slime stepped back but somehow it still nailed him in the chest.

“Guess I’m reading then,” he said cheerfully.

“In Spanish?” Maximus said.

“Um.”

Vegetta called something, backing across the plaza with the book open in his hands. Phil backed up to the wall.

“Here,” Phil instructed, “we’ll read it here.”

“Okay okay.” He flicked it open. “So we have to get water wheel planks--”

Their peace lasted a grand total of thirty seconds as voices suddenly began shouting, overlapping in chaotic chorus.

“What is that?” Fit demanded.

“Is that coming from the other side?” Phil stared up at the top of the wall.

“This is the thinnest thick wall I’ve ever seen,” Slime said, giddy laughter bubbling out of him again. “Is this thing made out of pencil shavings? If I sneeze on it, is there gonna be a hole?”

“Nevermind, we’ll read it over here.” Phil dragged them away again, but the Spanish speakers were dispersing into the trees.

“Forget the book,” Fit said, “follow them!”

(In the end it was explosives that took the wall down, which in hindsight was a precursor to how a not insignificant portion of time on the island was spent. The first day, however, it was just funny, much like everything else.)

(That was to say, the first first day.)

The communicator had indicated that today there was something special planned, so he made an extra effort to wake up.

“Morning Jaiden!” he called to his upstairs neighbor.

“Hi Charlie!” He could hear her farming through the wall. “Glad you woke up on time!”

“Well you know, you know, El Backflipo couldn’t miss it,” he joked, sifting through his backpack. “Got any spare food? I’ll trade you uno backflipo.”

“I have so much toast, come here and get some, free of charge.”

With a quick backflip and some toast to start the day, he popped open the map.

“There’s a lot of people down the wall,” he noted, their green dots so clustered they formed one. “Wanna check it out?”

“Yeah sure.” Jaiden tossed some seeds into a chest. “Do you know what this event’s gonna be?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted cheerfully.

She laughed. “Yeah, me neither. I guess there’s an egg involved, but that’s all I know.”

He dug around in his backpack for a paraglider, nodding along. “Yeah, yeah, un huevo, I get you.” Shuffling the landmine from Vegetta to one side, he yanked out his glider and threw himself out her window. “Let’s go!”

(nothing like getting struck by lightning to wake a guy up in the morning)

Slime fiddled with the communicator as he waited for the line of people to get through the ticket machine; he already had his own, a nice B for Backflipo. The new live translations still boggled his mind. He had to fight the urge to chant weird shit under his breath, just to see what the bubbles would say.

He paid a little extra attention when Mariana walked up to the machine. That guy seemed cool. They’d done that pequeño dormir together on day one, and he had a good sense of humor. Egg parenting would probably be funny.

He was thrilled to see the B for Backflipo on the ticket Mariana stepped away with, even if Mariana was decidedly less so. This was gonna be good.

(it was, and it wasn’t)

So, Mariana wasn’t exactly the coparent of dreams. Then again, Slime was pretty sure Mariana could say the same about him. In fact he was pretty sure Mariana had said the same, but in Spanish, when he wasn’t checking the translation.

It was great. They thought they’d killed a child immediately and then decided to fake their own child’s death to get away with it, and then confessed their sins to a bilingual angel and built a farm and then he buried himself beneath an improvised cross and went into a coma until his sins were forgiven, or something, except his sins weren’t forgiven in time to save his own child’s life.

And then Juanaflippa was dead. Dead at Mariana’s hand.

His bitch wife killed their daughter.

(Everything went faster, after that.)

Slime wanted to kill him.

Slime wanted to kill him for killing their fucking daughter, but of course, Mariana couldn’t even be bothered to be around to take care of her alive, never mind to pay for his crimes when she died by his hand!

(in a better world, his rage started and ended there. in a better world, the anger fizzled out with the lack of a target.

this was not that world)

There couldn’t be an Egg Event with no eggs.

If he killed them all, it would bring her back.

(in a worse world, he succeeded. in a worse world, the Egg Event ended there.

this was not that world)

They held a trial.

If he won, it would bring her back.

(in another world, he didn’t convince them. in another world, they left his daughter in Hell.

this was not that world)

Tilín was still before she hit the ground.

Tilín didn’t scream. Maybe they didn’t have time. It happened so fast. He was sure it happened fast. Almost too fast. But everything went so fast, now, even though Flippa was back. Yet, time slowed down for this, like a rubberneck driving past a highway accident, watching him desperately trying to shock their heart back into motion.

“YOU KILL MY BEST FRIENDS,” Flippa wrote. He begged her to understand. She wrote, “i can’t believe it.”

She wrote, “I HATE YOU.”

(in a better world, the error would have been caught in April instead of July.

this was not that world)

His daughter fell to his bitch wife’s sword. The same way. The next day.

They’d only just gotten her back. And Mariana killed her again.

He only left eggxile for the funeral. She wouldn’t stay dead, but he had to be there.

Time went even faster after that. He was Gegg, or maybe Gegg was him, or maybe Gegg was Gegg, or maybe. . . ?

He went back to eggxile.

He wasn’t leaving without them. Tilín. Juanaflippa. He would do whatever was necessary. He would pray to any higher power. Lil J still owed him a goddamn favor, but the guy wouldn’t pick up his calls. Maybe if he put more shit in the shrine; angels liked shiny shit, didn’t they? He went back to the mine, where the gasses swirled in his head. He built the shrine. He mined. He built the shrine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

“This is where I sit, this is where my bitch wife sits, and this is where my daughter sits, if I had one!”

He’d said that before. No he hadn’t. Yes he had.

No, he just needed to clear his head.

Charlie Slimecicle went back to the mine.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.