#or oh i didn't know that war is still going

[sarawritestories]

Oh Gods I Wish You Were Here

Cassian X Fem Reader

Summary: The holidays are fast approaching, and Cassian can feel the void now more than ever.

Content warning: mention of death, holidays, grief, and tears probably, not proofread.

A/N: Not how I intended to come back, but I got in my feelings, and this was the result.

Don't take it personally that I didn't tag this one...I just wanted to get it out as the words came.

Joy to the world. The war was over Feyre's birthday was upon them, along with Winter Solstice. Velaris snow covered, warm lights illuminating the longer evenings. Cassian could hear your daughter laughing alongside his cousin Nyx. All was right with the world.

Just not Cassian's.

As he looked at the daughter, the two of you shared, he reached out that familiar bond, and he did his best to cover his flinch as a reaction to the winter breeze rolling in. And not the ache of the end of the fading gold bond being hollow. The painful reminder that you were not here. Not watching your daughter growing up or laughing at his corny jokes.

The Mother was cruel.

"Daddy," he smiled, swallowing the tears threatening to form, "Nyx said we get to go decorate the tree at Auntie FeyFey and Uncle Rhysie's house" Aria, your 6 year old, raised her arms up and was in Cassian's embrace in an instant, his wings curving to block the wind. "Can we, pretty please?"

Cassian wanted to fall to his knees. She had your smile, the twinkle in your eye when you were excited about something. It wasn't fair.

You should have been the one to soak in these moments. To enjoy in the holiday luster. To see your child grow into a person. To see that she had your looks, personality, and your mate's whole heart.

But illness doesn't discriminate. It takes and it takes. He continues to take until its victim has nothing left, and the General of the Night Court's army only had a tombstone, and the memories you both shared as illness managed to claim another innocent soul.

Cassian had no time to grieve as Aria needed him, needed him to live, to move forward, to get out of the bed. He had to live so that Aria had her best chance at life.

The sounds of familiar voices hit his ears as Nyx led him and Aria to the townhouse, a continual meeting place for Solstice. Rhys greeted them, and Aria was greedy to get out of her father's arms and embrace her uncle. "Can we decorate the tree?"

Rhys laughed and kissed her cheek, "Of course, Starlight. Go find Auntie FeyFey and Uncle Az." Aria was quick to grab Nyx's hand, leaving the two Illyrian males behind. Rhys' gaze met his, and talons scratched at Cassian's walls.

"I'm fine," Cassian grumbled.

"Well, over 500 years, and you are still a horrific liar." Rhys flicks some lint off his shirt and sits on the stoop. Cassian joined him his wings tucked in tight. "I know the holidays are hard."

Cassian shook his head, "Aria, started school. She's made friends and takes art classes. It's not fair, Rhys. Aria shouldn't have to learn about her through stories at night time. She should be here Rhys." Cassian tucked his face in his hand a sob racking out of his body. "I want her here."

Rhys held his friend tightly. As Cassian roared, "Oh God's I wish you were here!" The door creaked open, and tiny hands gripped onto Cassian's wrist. He uncovered his face to see Aria smiling. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart," he sniffled as he pulled his child to his chest, trying to compose himself from his outburst.

Aria kissed his cheek, "Look, Daddy. A gift for you. Uncle Azzy said you could open it early." An envelope with his name in her tiny hands with...your handwriting. He gently took it from the small child and opened it.

Hey Handsome,

If you're reading this, then it must be Solstice, and our little girl is not so little anymore. I need you to know that if you're reading this that I fought hard. I fought so that you would never had to open these. I think we both know the outcome. I know you are hurting. I know you are fighting to keep our girl safe and protected and loved. I will never be able to thank you enough for the bravery you had before, during, and after this hardship.

Know I'm there with you, every big milestone, every storytime, every boo boo you kiss for Aria. And I'll be there through the bad stuff too, I'm sure. I get to look down at you from the stars and make sure you're safe and protected, for once. I love you, Cassian. I promise that we will find each other in the next life and we will have more time. There are letters for both you and Aria for big milestones, Az was given strict instructions on when to deliver them for you. When the world seems like too much and the void is too great, maybe my words will help the two of you grow and move on in my absence.

All My Love,

Your Sweetheart.

"Daddy?" Aria looked at him with eyes that matched his own, "what did it say?" Cassian smiled aware that the two were now alone

Cassian held her close and looked up at the stars, illuminating the town. "Look up at the night sky, little one." She did, and as the two looked on, a star flashed across the star, and Cassian heard her little gasp. "That was Mommy. She was letting us know she was here."

Aria snuggled against her father's chest, "I miss her." She whispered.

"Me too, Princess, me too." And the duo looked up at the night sky and wished that their favorite person was looking back at them.

~Fin

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@podiumackles

Finally getting a chance to read through Chapter 2! 😃

I really like how you did this chapter in Ben's POV. It's always so interesting to see inside his head, especially because the Boys series didn't give us that much of it!

But the 1980s were a far cry from the battlefields of his youth. Superheroes were no longer symbols of patriotism and sacrifice—they were products, controlled by Vought, manipulated into glossy icons for public consumption. Soldier Boy's clean-cut, all-American image had become a brand, slapped onto cereal boxes and comic books. In private, however, he was chafing under the weight of being Vought’s golden boy. He was a symbol, a puppet, but to his father, he was still just a disappointment.

I love this paragraph and how you started this chapter! I really do think that Ben's father just messed him up royally and that Ben has spent his entire life never feeling like he's enough. BUT. This paragraph is so good because Ben is starting to see through what Vought is doing with all the heroes and that it's becoming a joke to him, and I really love the idea that before Ben went to Russia, he was starting to "wake up" a bit from the stardom.

Also, the reader and Ben's first meeting? THE HATE AT FIRST SIGHT? HELLO? ENEMIES TO LOVERS?! YES PLEASE!

“Maybe you do,” you said, your voice a low murmur now. “But this isn't the ‘40s anymore. It’s not about who’s the toughest soldier out there. This world, Vought’s world, is about control. It’s about image and playing the game.” You glanced around the room at the other supes. “And you, with all your medals and war stories, are just another player.”

The reader is just so... catty... and AWESOME. I love that she can see through the smoke and mirrors to what is really going on underneath and that she has such strong opinions! Also I've talked about this with someone else on here, but I really like it when the reader is strong and opinionated and can put Ben in his place when he gets to be well... Ben lol. So I am VERY excited about this reader and this series!

Still, he knew better than to show weakness. He had perfected the art of hiding his inner turmoil, just as his father had taught him. To the world, he was still the unbeatable war hero, the icon of American masculinity. No one would ever see the cracks beneath the surface—the doubt, the frustration, the endless quest to be enough.

Again, the Ben POV is so spot on with his "endless quest to be enough." And oh goodness the "He had perfected the art of hiding his inner turmoil, just as his father had taught him." Is just so good.

You continued, undeterred by his silence. “But you know, maybe that’s the point. We’re all just playing dress-up here, aren’t we? Vought dresses us up, makes us look shiny, and sends us out to wave at the cameras. Nothing heroic about it.”

Amen 👏🏻

This is so good! There is so much TENSION between Ben and the reader and I am LIVING for it. And you can really feel the way Ben is just struggling to hold on to those old values and try to hold tight to the power he has during this time. I can't wait to read more and learn about their story together!

the moments that stay (they turn out all wrong)

In which the man she could never forget suddenly turns up at her cell, but he has no remembrance of the woman in front of him. And the moments that stayed with her for decades, turn out to be her memories only.

series masterlist

CHAPTER 2

A/N: English isn't my first language!! apologies in advance.

Outlines: After being his sidekick in Payback for years, you-better known as your supename Fury-ended up on the same end of Soldier Boy's violence as every other person. What you didn't realise, however, was that your old team had set you both up for betrayal, right when you thought you were helping them in getting him. After decades of being stuck in Vought's testing lab, you heard Soldier Boy got out. But the man who appeared in front of your cell wasn't the man you knew.

Warnings: not much in this chapter. mentions of power imbalance, possibly swearing, Soldier Boy's incorrect view of what a man needs to be, mentions of (mental) abuse and manipulation, and possibly wrong storytelling in lines of the canon events. I'm not that good at remembering, guys. and the boys was just kinda complicated. forgive me.

1980s

Soldier Boy had noble intentions to protect and serve his country. He had dignity, honour, and believed every man should grow up to be a “real man”, as his father had repeatedly told him.

Enduring the Second World War wasn’t enough.

Becoming a superhero wasn’t enough.

It would never be enough. Not for his father.

His father’s words echoed in his mind, a constant reminder that no matter what he achieved, it was never sufficient.

A real man builds his own success, with his own two hands. He doesn't cheat his way into power.

Those words shaped him, pushing him to become something greater than just a soldier, more than just a hero in the public eye. But no matter how many enemies he thought he vanquished or how many medals adorned his chest, he couldn't escape the feeling that he was failing his father’s impossible standard of manhood.

But the 1980s were a far cry from the battlefields of his youth. Superheroes were no longer symbols of patriotism and sacrifice—they were products, controlled by Vought, manipulated into glossy icons for public consumption. Soldier Boy's clean-cut, all-American image had become a brand, slapped onto cereal boxes and comic books. In private, however, he was chafing under the weight of being Vought’s golden boy. He was a symbol, a puppet, but to his father, he was still just a disappointment.

The breaking point came when Vought began assembling a new team of supes- as Vought would call them- to form the latest supergroup. Ben, a natural leader in his own eyes, felt a simmering resentment. He wasn’t a team player. He was meant to be the star—the hero who stood above the rest, not one who shared the spotlight. To him, the team would only drag him down, undermine his own success, and ruin the carefully crafted image he had worked so hard to build.

But, despite everything, Vought’s grip would always have been too strong. So, despite his disdain, he reluctantly agreed. They understood him. And he needed them. He had been sure he would be appointed the leader of this new group. When he was, he would ensure control over every aspect of the team so they wouldn’t lead to his downfall. This was his time.

As he stood in Vought’s headquarters, a sense of superiority coursed through him. He was the seasoned war hero, the one who had fought on real battlefields. These supes were nothing more than attention-seeking showboats, eager for fame rather than true service.

You, dressed in an orange-red suit, stood next to him with wide-eyed curiosity. You looked like you were barely out of your teens, your youthful face betraying your lack of experience. "Is it true, then?" you asked, your voice a mix of awe and disbelief. "You killed the president?"

Ben thought the suits Vought had made for the team were ridiculous. He wouldn't need a special suit to be the best version of himself. He wouldn't need anything but himself.

Without looking at you, he growled, “You believe everything you hear?”

You blinked, taken aback by his gruff response, but quickly recovered. “No, I just…” you tore your gaze from him, focusing on the other supes getting in the final pieces of their attire. “Would be a shame to be on the team with a murderer.”

Your words lingered in the tight air between you. He realised you had put up a facade, a mask to hide your wariness of the man next to you. You didn’t idolise him. In fact, you might have been close to despising, if he didn’t know any better.

Ben finally turned his head to face you, his eyes cold and unwavering. Your suit tied around your body, but it seemed loose enough to not reveal too much to the outside. Cloves hugged your delicate hands and reached until well near your elbows. A small cape was fastened onto your wrists, which Ben found all the more ridiculous. Who the fuck needs a cape?

“I’m no murderer,” his words were short, harsh. This woman had no right to speak to him like that. “At least not to people who didn’t deserve it.”

“Did he deserve it?” You started, looking back at the slightly taller man next to you. “The president.”

“I didn’t kill the fucking president.”

Soldier Boy’s glare intensified as he sized you up. Your audacity infuriated him. He had dealt with enough scepticism from his father—he didn’t need it from some rookie in a costume Vought had only designed to sell toys.

The room around you buzzed with activity as the other members of the team prepared for their first group appearance. Ben seethed in silence. These so-called superheroes were nothing like the comrades he fought alongside in the war. They lacked discipline, focus, and the hardened edge that came from seeing real combat. They were actors in a carefully orchestrated performance, and to him, that was a disgrace.

You still stood beside him and seemed to sense his irritation, but you didn’t back down. Instead, you tilted your head and raised an eyebrow, as if daring him to lash out.

“You think you're better than us, don’t you?” you asked, your voice quieter this time, but laced with a subtle challenge.

Soldier Boy scoffed, crossing his arms. “Better? I don’t think, doll. I know.”

Your lips curled into a smirk, and for the first time, Ben noticed a flash of something in your eyes—something darker, more calculating than the wide-eyed naivety you'd shown earlier.

“Maybe you do,” you said, your voice a low murmur now. “But this isn't the ‘40s anymore. It’s not about who’s the toughest soldier out there. This world, Vought’s world, is about control. It’s about image and playing the game.” You glanced around the room at the other supes. “And you, with all your medals and war stories, are just another player.”

Your words rang through his ears more than he’d like to, and he started to think he thought of you wrongly. You weren't an ordinary trophy girl- you weren't someone to idolise him. You had your own strong opinion, and it wasn't something Ben was sure he could live with.

He clenched his fists, a storm of rage starting to brew inside him, but before he could respond, a booming voice cut through the tension.

“Alright, team!” The commanding voice belonged to Vought’s newest public relations handler, a slick man in an expensive suit. “It’s showtime!”

You shot Soldier Boy a final, knowing glance before you turned away, your cape swishing dramatically as you moved toward the centre of the room. Ben remained where he was, his jaw clenched, watching you. He hated your arrogance, but deep down, he knew you weren't wrong.

This wasn’t the battlefield. This wasn’t about sacrifice, honour, or even survival. This was a new kind of war, one he wasn’t sure he knew how to win.

But win it, he would.

Because failure? That was never an option. Not for him. And certainly not for his father.

As the team assembled for their public debut, Soldier Boy straightened his shoulders and put on his best, most patriotic smile. No one in the crowd would ever know the battle raging inside him, the war he fought against the crushing weight of expectations.

He would play the game, for now. And when the time was right, he would remind them all just how dangerous a man like him could be.

Cameras flashed; eight new heroes to represent America, to supposedly save the residents from upcoming threats, upcoming wars.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the commanding voice rang through their ears again. “May I present to you, your heroes, your idols, your team; Payback.”

Pictures were taken, but Ben paid it no mind. He was used to all the attention, to all the girls swooning over him. He stood front and centre, flashing his most practised, toothy grin. The name Payback echoed in his ears. A team to stand up for their people. But this wasn’t about anything but pride to Ben��it was about staying on top, holding onto the power and prestige he had built over decades.

And the team around him felt like a joke.

You stood a little behind him, a faint smirk still playing on your lips. Your audacity lingered in his mind, taunting him. Despite himself, he couldn’t shake the way you had spoken—calm, deliberate, and entirely sure of yourself. That was rare. Most of the other heroes around him were too obsessed with fame and too concerned with their image. They fell in line because Vought told them to.

Ben clenched his jaw, his father's words echoing in his mind once again.

A real man builds his own success, with his own two hands.

But was this success? Standing here, posing for the cameras, while Vought puppeteered them all? It didn’t feel like the heroism he had once envisioned. The battlefield, the grit, the true sacrifice—it had all been replaced by PR campaigns and flashy photo ops.

Still, he knew better than to show weakness. He had perfected the art of hiding his inner turmoil, just as his father had taught him. To the world, he was still the unbeatable war hero, the icon of American masculinity. No one would ever see the cracks beneath the surface—the doubt, the frustration, the endless quest to be enough.

As the cameras continued snapping, Soldier Boy’s mind wandered your words. It’s about control. Image. Playing the game. You had said those words so matter-of-factly as if you had already accepted the new rules of this world.

After the press conference, the team dispersed to prepare for their first mission together—a staged event, of course, meant to show the world how “heroic” they were. But Soldier Boy lingered, watching as the others left the room.

One thing was certain: he wasn’t going to let anyone take his place at the top. He would play the game his way, and when the time came, he would show them all—Vought, Payback, his father—that he was still the strongest, still the best.

Because if there was one thing Ben knew, it was that in the end, power didn’t come from suits or smiles. Power came from dominance, from control, and from the ability to crush anyone who dared to stand in your way.

And that was exactly what he intended to do.

As he turned to leave, Soldier Boy caught a glimpse of himself in one of the giant mirrors that lined the hallway. He stared at his reflection—his square jaw, broad shoulders, and the tight-fitting mask over his head. He looked every bit the hero Vought had made him out to be. But simultaneously, he looked ridiculous.

“Suits are cool, huh?” your familiar voice spoke up as he left the previous room and wandered the hallways of the slightly known building. “Kidding. You look awful.”

Ben hadn’t thought he looked awful altogether; the green hugged his features wonderfully, the gold details shining as a representation of his pride. Just the mask was a reject.

“Can’t say any different about you.” Ben said matter-of-factly.

The hallway was dimly lit, and he continued walking with purpose, ignoring the voice behind him. He didn’t need anyone's approval—especially not from the cocky rookie now catching up with him. The smirk he had seen earlier was back, and you walked with a casual confidence that irritated him even more.

You weren't one to shy away from confrontation, clearly. Your snarky comment about his suit wasn’t just meant to jab at him; it was part of the ongoing game you seemed intent on playing. Ben found it annoying, yet there was something about you that stood out. You weren't like the obedient pawns he was used to, always falling in line and praising him without question.

"Aw, don’t be like that," you teased, still walking alongside him. Your cape fluttered with each step, an accessory he couldn’t understand the need for, as if to taunt him for eternity. “Just saying, for someone who’s supposed to be the leader, you sure look like you're heading into a costume party instead of a mission.”

Ben clenched his jaw but kept walking. He wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction of a response.

You continued, undeterred by his silence. “But you know, maybe that’s the point. We’re all just playing dress-up here, aren’t we? Vought dresses us up, makes us look shiny, and sends us out to wave at the cameras. Nothing heroic about it.”

“Speak for yourself,” Ben finally muttered, his voice low. “I’ve seen real combat. I’ve been in the trenches. What have you done, other than talk?”

Your smirk didn’t falter, though your eyes darkened slightly. “You’re right,” you said, a hint of venom in your voice. “I haven’t been in your precious war. But I’m not stupid. I know how things work now. And this… all of this,” you gestured around the hall, “isn’t about being a hero. It’s about staying relevant. It’s about power.”

Ben stopped walking, turning to face you. His eyes narrowed as he looked you up and down, sizing you up again. “Power?” he scoffed. “You think prancing around in that cape gives you power?”

Your smirk faded, replaced with a more serious expression. “No, I think understanding how to use what I’ve got gives me power. You’re strong, Soldier Boy. No one’s doubting that. But strength doesn’t mean anything if you don’t know how to play the game. And that’s where you’re going to lose.”

Ben’s fists clenched. “I don’t lose.”

“We’ll see.” You stepped back, eyes locked with his. There was no fear in them, just a cool, calculated calm. “But you should know, they own you, just like they own all of us.”

Silence fell between them, only the annoying presence of you urging him to keep on walking.

“Name’s Fury by the way. For the public, that is.”

He glanced at you quickly, frowning before letting his eyes fall on the relics on the walls when they continued their way.

“Soldier Boy.”

Ben could’ve sworn he heard you laugh; just the faintest hint of a breath leaving your mouth in a way that angered him.

“I know that,” you spoke, and he grew to feel more frustrated at the feeling you wouldn’t leave him alone. “You got a real name?”

“Yes.”

“Mine is Y/n.”

“I don’t fucking care.”

“Alright, I’ll figure it out eventually." Your words echoed in Ben’s mind as you walked away, pace speeding up to leave him alone in the hallway. He stared after you, his mind racing with a storm of thoughts he wasn’t used to entertaining. He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to force his mind back to what mattered: control, power, dominance. But your words lingered like a stubborn itch he couldn’t scratch.

You were audacious, irritating, and worst of all, you had a point.

Ben hated to admit it, but you seemed to understand the game better than most. Vought didn’t care about his war stories or his medals. To them, and to the world they controlled, he was just another pawn in a machine far bigger than the battlefield. For all his strength, for all the wars he had fought and won, Ben was no longer the master of his own destiny. He was trapped in a world of PR stunts and corporate interests. And that gnawed at him, more than he cared to admit.

He had always believed power came from raw strength, from being the toughest, the strongest. But this new world, this world of superheroes-for-hire and manufactured images, was different.

Ben’s jaw tightened as he turned and continued down the hallway, alone with his thoughts. Vought owned him, you had said. That was the part that stung the most. He had spent his life trying to prove to his father that he could succeed on his own terms. But the truth was, his success had always been shaped by someone else. First his father, now Vought.

As he entered the large meeting room, where Payback's first mission briefing was about to take place, he felt a new kind of resolve building inside him. He didn’t like playing games, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Vought—or you—think they had the upper hand. He was still Soldier Boy, the greatest hero America had ever known, and he would prove it.

The team was already gathered, some stretching, some chatting, all waiting for their cue from Vought’s handlers. You werethere too, standing off to the side with your arms crossed, your eyes scanning the room with that same calculated coolness. You caught his gaze for a moment, but there was no smirk this time. Just a flicker of something that almost looked like respect—or perhaps it was just curiosity.

He didn’t care.

Ben straightened his shoulders and strode to the front of the room, where the mission briefing was about to begin. As far as he was concerned, he didn’t need anyone to tell him how to lead.

The lights dimmed, and a large screen flickered to life. A Vought executive appeared, slick and polished as always, ready to guide them through their heroic PR spectacle.

The exec began, his voice oozing with rehearsed enthusiasm. “Your mission today is simple: protect, serve, and show the world why Payback is the team they can trust.”

Ben barely listened. The mission was standard fare—save some politicians from a staged crisis, and make it look good for the cameras. Easy. What he cared about was how he would position himself at the top of the group. This wasn’t just about completing the mission; this was about showing everyone that Soldier Boy wasn’t just another cog in the machine.

After some specifics and unnecesary questions from his lower ranked team, they filed out toward the transport that would take them to the mission site. Ben was the last to leave the room, watching as the others chatted excitedly, eager to get into costume and play the part Vought had crafted for them.

He glanced once more at you, your back to him as you spoke quietly with another member of the team. You were different. You weren't a puppet like the others. That made you dangerous.

But Ben wasn’t worried.

Because at the end of the day, he knew one thing for certain: he didn’t lose.

And when the time came, when he reminded the world just what a real man, a real hero, could do, You—and everyone else—would be forced to recognize that.

He was Soldier Boy. And this? This was just the beginning.

A/N: as always, feedback is appreciated! let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

thanks for reading! <3

taglist: @demodemo909 @deangirl96 @mostlymarvelgirl @n-o-p-e-never

[cybertron-after-dark]

I can't stop thinking about Prime and Rescue Bots sharing a universe. Like what all did the Rescue Bots know about during the war. Do they know about Unicron, Team Prime's base getting destroyed, do they even know Smokescreen exists? Same goes for Team Prime. When did each member find out about the Rescue Bots (if they found out), how often did Optimus think about just letting his Dino-bot side out during a battle, did they worry about M.E.C.H. finding out about them? This universe makes me absolutely feral with things like this and I love it.

Honestly I'm pretty sure they didn't even register Unicron happening because disasters are just the natural state of griffin rock. "Oh another earthquake? Yeah okay, let's go fellas, we got work."

They likely didnt know about the base being destroyed until after they relocated just with how often the bots try to get a hold of team prime and reach nobody until whichever fiasco is happening is over.

They definitely know about most of team prime just with how much they knew about Bumblebee alone, but they likely only learned about Smokescreen if Blades and Bumblebee talk outside of necessary-for-work comms.

Honestly I'm pretty sure all of team prime knows about griffin rock even if they don't get an episode there. If it's restricted information to, say, Arcee and Bulkhead, then its a bit confusing that Optimus would freely reveal it to Bumblebee when he ranks lower. And we know Ratchet is aware of them since he had to help find a cure for the paralytic virus in the first bumblebee episode. I'd guess he debriefed the others on the new bots and the griffin rock project right after they touched down to earth for the first time.

I truly, genuinely, honestly believe Optimus should've gone dinobot mode at some point during prime but either that episode came out after the show already ended or they just did not have the budget to model a full t rex mode. But in the timeline where things lined up just the right way to allow it to happen, please imagine with me: dinobot Optimus vs predaking. T rex vs a dragon. Somewhere in the multiverse, beast wars Megatron is weeping.

As for MECH's involvement, I think it's actually implied Morocco has been selling them tech. There's a nonzero chance Nemesis Prime used a Morbot as a base and they modified it from there after they learned enough about cybertronian anatomy to make a copy of prime.

All in all the Ramifications of these shows being so deeply intertwined has me FUCKED UP and I want to see the two teams hanging out so so so badly. Boulder, Graham and Bulkhead all getting to talking and finding out about Bulkhead's construction experience and being like legitimately hyped that they have that in common, and then Bulkhead having a full on out of body experience because hey wait why are the smart guys treating him like he's One of Them and not calling him dumb? Arcee and Heatwave shooting the shit about how frustrating the people they live with can be, but they still love their teams to death. Both of them snarking at Kade. Blades and Bumblebee being Gay on Main alnd Jack, Raf and Miko clamoring for DETAILS while Dani cheers them on. Ratchet being miserable because by Primus why are there so many humans, three of them is already exhausting, until Cody starts talking to him and he conveniently forgets his plan to go hide out in his room. Chase being out of his depth around Miko, aka Chaos Personified. Optimus, June, Fowler and Charlie just slowwwly forming a Tired Parents Club in the corner.

In conclusion your honor I liek when the funni robot shows crossover :]

[satureja13]

Why Vlad and Ji Ho wear the same sleeping shirts Extended Version - Part 3 Part 1 is -> here, Part 2 is -> here

Jack: "We tried the shirts on. They fit perfectly, but... Sai blamed himself: 'Omg Jack, when something is this cheap, there's always a rub! Oh, why didn't I check back? It's my fault! Vlad will kill us. He's never going to wear such cheesy stuff!' " (Editor's note: Back then it was really problematic with Vlad. He only wore one kind of each piece of clothing and had several of the same pants, shirts, you name it. And everything plain black. Even after two years, he was still mourning the death of his first love, Wesley.) Jack: "But my hyper brain was already a few steps ahead. I had a plan. Sai wasn't convinced it would work, but he played along. Because anything was better than getting killed by Vlad...

And a few hours later, I went to his room - with his new shirt... He was standing in his bathroom, bare-chested and said: 'Oh, if I only had a shirt to wear!' Vlad huffed: "That's certainly not what I'd said. Rather something that I'd kill the one who didn't do the laundry..." Jack: "I did do the laundry! It just went wrong..." Vlad: "What I didn't know that because no one told me and you'd chosen to lie to your best friend - for years!" Jack: "Can I go on now? You can thank me later." Vlad: "I doubt that, but go on already."

Jack: "So I showed Vlad my new shirt: 'Look what I've got! The limited edition Han & Leia shirt!' Vlad: 'I don't know. Doesn't like Star Wars at all. Is it legit?' Jack: 'Sure it is. It's featured on the official website and it's the original label inside!' Because I'd urged Sai into creating a fake site and tore the labels out of my other Star Wars shirts to sew them into the fake ones ö.ö' ... " Vlad felt like he fell into the abyss: "You did - what? Why would you even do that? Just to make me wear a stupid shirt?" Jack: "You will thank me later?" Vlad doesn't even know what to say anymore: "Ach!"

Jack: "I told Vlad I got these shirts for all of us because they are kind of insider Star Wars shirts. And that I even got Sai to wear it because there was nothing screaming 'Star Wars' on it..."

"No one would see us in them anyway and it was kind of showing our love and support for each other after everything we'd been through. And so Vlad eventually agreed to wear it!"

Jack: "And whenever we saw each other wearing those shirts, we'd say 'I love you' and the other repeated 'I know'."

Jeb: "Aouwww! That's sweet." Jack: "Right? *Jack ogled Vlad* One can't be mad at me for bringing us closer together, right?"

Jack: "A few days later, I went over to Ji Ho. We hadn't had the best start together so I gave him the shirt to make it up to him. And told him what we'd say to each other when we met wearing those shirts. To make him feel welcome and a part of us, you know?"

Jack, with a side look at Vlad: "Ji Ho didn't ask nosy questions, like some other people I know. He just put the shirt on and seemed genuinely happy." Ji Ho smiled shyly: "I'm still." Vlad: "I can't believe you even dragged Ji Ho into this madness!" Jack: "You will thank..." Vlad didn't let him finish his sentence: "I warn you!"

Jack just continued with the story: "Ji Ho was very shy back then and he didn't talk much. He went through a lot, like all of us. So I thought we'd practice. I showed him the scenes on youtube and told him about Star Wars."

Jack: "It took me a while to lure him out of his shell, but eventually he got it. Jack: 'Ok, once again for good measure: I love you.' Ji Ho: 'I - I know?' Jack: 'That's how we do it!' "

Jack: "I was glad we'd been able to finally put our first gone-terribly-wrong encounters aside. *Jack shot Vlad a glance* So this shirt already showed it was worth all the troubles."

Jack: "We all know that Ji Ho had been very afraid of Vlad in the beginning and Vlad avoided Ji Ho due to that curse. One evening, Sai, Vlad and me just hung out together in my room, it was late and Vlad was about to leave. We all said our I-love-you's and I-know's and when Vlad opened the door he just spotted the shirt on Ji Ho and he automatically said 'I love you' to Ji Ho."

Jack: "Ji Ho was so startled, he said nothing at first, even though we practised. But eventually he whispered 'I know'."

Jack: "And this is why Ji Ho and Vlad wear the same sleeping shirts for years now!" Vlad: "RUN, Jack!"

And Jack ran.

Skully: "But why do only Ji Ho and Vlad still wear them?" Saiwa: "You must know that Jack and I shipped Vlad and Ji Ho from the very beginning. Vlad had been suffering for two years. Mourning Wesley's death and trying to get over with what happened at the Castle. Finally he showed interest in someone else. So we thought these shirts should be a them-thing ^^' And it became. Vlad continued to wear it even though Jack and I didn't after a while. And Ji Ho too. He didn't even like Star Wars ^^'. Somehow this shirt connected them through all those months when all hope seemed lost they could ever be together one day. *Sai looked after Jack and Vlad and sighed* COME BACK NOW, YOU IDIOTS! THAT MURDEROUS CREATURE IS STILL OUT THERE!" And, as if on command, the creature screeched and rustled in the ventilation shafts again ö.ö' And Vlad and Jack ran back to the bridge...

Jack's story inspired Skully to sing:

'… I wonder how we can survive This romance But in the end if I'm with you I'll take the chance

… Oh, can't you see it, baby? You've got me going crazy

… Wherever you go Whatever you do I will be right here waiting for you Whatever it takes Or how my heart breaks I will be right here waiting for you Waiting for you'

Right here waiting - Richard Marx

Good choice, Skully! Fits so well for the both of them <3

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29

[folklorespring]

I was watching video about Ukrainian combat medic and noticed it had English subtitles. Watched another video, also had subtitles. There're thousands informative twitter, instagram, tiktok accounts about Ukraine in English. Most news sources have English version of their content. If only people in the west reached out to learn more.

[yellowocaballero]

I said a little bit about this in a comment a few hours ago (hey kenny) and I actually really felt like saying more.

For all that gay people/Tumblr people/AO3 peope/waves hand are really, really into found family they are actually pretty allergic to conceptualizing familial relationships outside of nuclear family roles.

I see a billion posts on Tumblr about how friendships can be just as important as romantic relationships, if not more, but nobody ever actually writes the friendship as important as a romantic relationship. Or friendships are interpreted as romantic, or friendships are sidelined for the romantic relationship. It's always a weird disparity between what people say are important and people actually find important for me.

So when we do step out of romantic relationship and into gen relationships, we typically enter the trope world of #foundfamily. But the same kind of flattening of characters for the sake of shoving them into yaoi ghost archetypes honestly also really happens with family relationships.

There is always a dad. There's always a mom. There's always siblings (frequently the canon female love interest). Maybe an uncle? Ex-wife if we are feeling sexy that day.

I really rarely see people interested in #foundfamily relationships outside of those boxes. It is overwhelmingly, entirely American-centric. There's no recognition of the unbelievable diversity and breadth of human relationships, or the very many ways there are to love somebody. In fanfic, if there's a much older male character emotional close to younger characters, he's dad mode. And the relationship then follows the character and story beats of the father-child relationship intended to draw out those fuzzy family feelings. Damn, I read found family stuff to get away from the intense claustrophobia of the fandom's favorite ship, I'm not here to get family yaoi ghosted here too.

I think you can create a very unique and engaging relationship if you're wiling to engage with the unknown and uncomfortable. Make a path without the paint by numbers story beats and character arcs. Please stop letting tropes rule your writing instead of construct it.

Write stories about love. Write relationships about loving each other. Just start from there, and don't worry about anything else. Create a relationship that is its own. Let it breathe. It can stand on its own two feet. It'll be a richer relationship and a richer story.

[mwagneto]

i think what's really been getting to me the past few months is the realisation that i dont relate to literally any of the mental health stuff i see anywhere. like whenever there's some affirmation or motivation or just relatable-sounding posts in general they all seem like such common problems and it's like, damn i literally dont experience any of that. and yet im still crumpling. something uniquely wrong with me

[adhd-merlin]

Ah someone else who has discovered the joys of Camelot (1967) a movie that I am completely normal about. Have you watched it? Because the delivery of the lines is everything and if you need someone to talk to about it I am, once again, completely normal about it. The scene where Lancelot and Arthur first meet?? A masterpiece in sharing a single braincell. And don't even get me started on the way Guenevere first treats Lancelot "have you jousted with humility lately". It's unapologetically at the top of my Arthuriana movie rank list and has gotten me to reread The Once and Future King

I have not watched the film yet!

I've been listening to the original cast recording on Spotify but, most importantly, I've read the book of the original Broadway production (1960 libretto) and I love it?? It's a delightful little read on its own, even without having watched the musical. (I want other people to read it please it's very funny I promise)

I guess the 1967 film script won't be identical to the libretto but I assume it's fairly similar.

The scene where Lancelot meets Arthur was hilarious it made me laugh out loud. Lancelot utter puzzlement ("Gone a-Maying, Your Majesty??"). Arthur's sudden self-consciousness.

And don't even get me started on the way Guenevere first treats Lancelot "have you jousted with humility lately"

I know!! Lancelot's grating self-righteousness coupled with his complete lack of self-awareness is so funny.

And I loved the gradual tone shift. It starts out so silly and the tragedy sneaks up on you — I thought Guinevere and Lancelot's affair might be played for laughs with an oblivious Arthur but no, it turns out he's fully aware of what's going on and he's forced to watch it unfold because he's powerless to stop it? and he loves them both and doesn't want any harm to come to them even as they betray him??

(He continues talking, looking from one to the other, feverishly — painfully) — Excuse me??

and King Pellinore is hilarious, he enters the scene wearing a monocle followed by a little mongrel named Horrid and talking like a character from a P. G. Wodehouse's novel. Extremely validating because when I read that chapter in Le Morte d'Arthur in which King Pellinore first makes an appearance my first question was "is he meant to be this funny?" and the answer from this script is a resounding YES.

I think I might perhaps watch the 1968 stage production first, merely because it's available for free on Youtube (at least in the UK).

I might try hunting for a free streaming link to the 1967 film, though I don't mind renting it if I can't find it.

[sowhatnotcreative]

I can think both terrorism AND war crimes are bad, AT THE SAME TIME!

I'm so fuckin sick of people with zero empathy picking a side and using the atrocities as some type of pathetic debate where they have zero stakes in anything you just like watching the news film dead bodies and debate on if these dead Innocents are justified and those other ones aren't. Got damn disgusting. Go join the military if you think all the war crimes are so great. Pig

[jewishcissiekj]

every month I read the new Darth Vader issue expecting ....something. and every month I wonder why doesn't Greg Pak ever stop and go home never to return to write Vader or the handmaidens ever again

[lady-shadow-and-darkness]

Whenever I see people saying that Dazai's an asshole and doesn't care about anyone I laugh. Guess he did a good job of fooling you buddy.

[outlawssweetheart]

Bitches will see a character murder (often times, brutally murder) innocent people and ignore it or excuse it or even support it (fine, I do that too, they aren’t real). Meanwhile, that same character will do something else that is almost as bad, bad but not even nearly as bad as murdering innocents, or something that isn’t even bad at all, and they will FLIP THEIR SHIT! And suddenly, that character is a demon for that, but not for the homicide, and anyone who likes them is “Excusing this kind of behavior!!”

Like, honey, you just saw them mutilate an innocent bystander. 😒

Unless a character is on some fucking Freddy Kr*ger shit, I have to say the murders are at least slightly worse.

[yukinyaminyato]

im in a library w/ my friend (who i still have a crush on 🥲) and it's pouring outside neither of us has an umbrella we both have our laptops that we can't risk getting wet we cannot leave lmaooo

oh wait they're gonna run to the nearest store to buy an umbrella for us and i'll stay here and watch our things. a plot twist 😶

[the-hawks-rye]

i know it's been said a gazillion times and said more eloquently than me but god the amount of missed potential in the sequel trilogy. thinking about how anakin became a villain because he felt he had no other choice (and the tragedy being that he always had a choice, and his character arc concluding with him deciding to stand up for what's right by saving luke), meanwhile kylo grew up surrounded by a loving family full of positive role models and chose evil knowingly because he craved power for power's sake. kylo idolizing the tragic figure of darth vader all the while burning the world around him. there was so much you could do with that but instead they had to sacrifice rey's character to make the movies about her fixing the genocidal white boy who never wanted to be saved

[anonyanonymouse]

I'm so disappointed I won't be able to immediately tune in on the twst update like usual 😭 I'm pretty sure this is the first time I won't be watching it right after it's up, and not only that, but my early morning obligation preventing me from enjoying the update is going to last FIVE hours 😭😭😭

[madlori]

On being an older fangirl

I was probably 10 years old when I first conceived of what was, looking back, fanfiction. Me and my best friend would lie in bed together on sleepovers and I'd make up stories about what happened after the end of our favorite book, "The Westing Game." She'd ask me for more stories, and I'd tell her more, inventing them as I went along. "Then what?" she'd say.

I was 14 when I went to my first convention. I had discovered Star Trek: The Next Generation. It was 1987, and my youth pastor was a huge Trekkie. He took me to a one-day crappy Creation con, but it was amazing to me. I met Nichelle Nichols. My dad showed me the Trek movies. He and I watched TNG together.

When I went to college in 1991, my dad used to videotape TNG episodes onto VHS tapes and mail them to me, so I could keep watching (I didn't have TV in my dorm room).

By the time I was a senior, we had Trek watching parties in the dorm lounge, where the TV had cable. Star Trek: Voyager had started up, and I wrote a column about it for the college newspaper. I joined a mailing list about it, with people in it that I still know today.

I got my first computer that could go online in 1995. I was on newsgroups. I discovered Doctor Who. I went to Trek conventions where we still passed around fanzines containing fic and art and smutty K/S fan creations.

Then it was Harry Potter. Then there were websites. Then there was Geocities, where we could all make our own little spots. We organized them into webrings. We talked on newsgroups and mailing lists. There were fanfic archives. Then there was fanfiction.net.

Then...there was LiveJournal. And we could interact in entirely new ways. We could form communities, and debate things, and fight over canon, and get into ship wars. On LiveJournal, I met my best friend of 22 years. I was in her wedding. She's my sister of the heart (which is what she calls me).

Then there was Tumblr. And Twitter. And now there's Discord. But it's all the same.

I am the same.

I am still that little girl who made up fanfiction in her head to entertain her best friend. I am still the one who was amazed to find communities on the internet - which was so new, so raw, so uncommodified - where others like me could meet. I found there people to meet in real life.

I am still that twentysomething going to her first major convention, being told that someone loved my fic, being asked about my writing process.

I am still that thirtysomething watching something I wrote blow up. Seeing friends from other fandoms find me in new ones, finding them there, too. Forgetting which fandom I know someone from, because I've known them for twenty years.

I still know some of the people who created those early websites, those mailing lists, those archives. I still meet people in new fandoms who say "Oh, I read your fic in [fandom] fifteen years ago!" There's no feeling quite like having someone remember something you wrote for that long. Or meeting someone whose fic meant a lot to YOU, or who you talked with on rec.arts.drwho.creative in 1997.

Aging in fandom is a gift. Being middle-aged in fandom is a joy. Having people who still read what I write and ask "Then what?" is a blessing.

It breaks my heart that so many people see it as something to be ashamed of, when it is one of my life's greatest gifts.