#just re-living some feelings as I go through caps

[wah-pah]

Fucking René.

#just re-living some feelings as I go through caps #While it gave us The Kiss and some background on Phryne's life Murder at Montparnasse still remains my least favourite episode #closely tied with the Eugene ones - they also gave us context and romantic overtures but the rest was a bit of a mess imo #miss fisher’s murder mysteries #personal

[izukuwus]

Boiling Point 2: A Watched Pot - Miguel O'Hara/Reader (NSFW)

First - Next - M.list - Ao3

A/N: yeehaw I didn't forget

Summary: The game is on, and you begin your very important training.

Warnings: masturbation, strong language

Word count: ~3400 words

It is the evening you have decided to re-train your discipline, with or without a dominant partner, and you need to figure out what the fuck you're thinking.

I mean, sure, it's perfectly fine to tell yourself that you'll get your discipline back and posture in the general direction of the source of your recent car crash into hornytown, but you do need to ask yourself what any of that actually means. Yeah, you were disciplined before. If the guy you were with told you not to touch yourself, you didn't touch yourself. But you had no problems doing that because—and this part is key—you really didn't feel like it all that much.

So, really, the issue was never that you were disciplined and now you're not, it's that you never needed to be disciplined before and now you don't know what the fuck to do with yourself.

The obvious answer is this: set ground rules. Set some sort of challenge for yourself so that you know where to begin and what to do to train yourself so you stop wrecking your shit and doing stupid things, like overheating your entire vibrator collection and letting some totally original asswipe of a villain punch you through a wall just to feel something.

So you sit down with a pen and a notebook and you brainstorm until you come away with a list of restrictions and a purpose. You debate on keeping the list itself with you, as a reminder, and eventually decide that, no, you’ll write it up on your whiteboard. A nice little reminder. You need to be able to see what you’re doing, after all. Wouldn’t very well do if you forgot, would it?

When it’s written up, you step back and give it a glance-over, nodding to yourself in satisfaction.

Estimated delivery date for new toy: ??? end of next week? The site said 7-10 days from date of shipping, but it doesn’t ship immediately. We’ll go two weeks from today’s date to be safe.

- no orgasms until the new vibe arrives

- touching, playing, thinking, etc. allowed IF not to completion

- you do NOT need a dom to discipline you. literally just stop being so fucking horny.

- suffer.

For good measure, you add a line a few inches down and sign your name in big, flourishing swoops, as though that's sealing a contract with yourself. Stupid, there's no witnesses. This would never hold up in a court of law.

...actually, the exhibitionist in you kind of wants to know how that would work out.

Besides, from time to time you like to think that the spider that made you is carried with you. She's done enough for you, anyway. Probably definitely died by now. You don't think spiders live that long. Either way, she’s your witness.

So you cap your dry erase marker and close up your notebook and neatly slide it back into its place on your bookshelf. Luckily, you don't ever have people over, so it's not like anyone will be seeing your totally innocent contract. Maybe you should have worded it in such a way that you can spin a different web about it, just in case.

...nah. You'll leave it just like that. When you get your toy and emerge triumphant from two weeks of self-imposed orgasm denial knowing that you do NOT need any extra discipline, thank you very much Mister Miguel O'Hara, middle manager of worlds, you'll take it down and put some over-inspiring quote up in its place or something.

You scroll down the tab opened to a new toy shop you're trying out, seeing as your previous go-to sold you a nearly two hundred dollar vibrator that barely made it through one rough month with you (you should really follow up with them on a refund or a replacement or something, actually) and take your pick of their wares. Maybe this site will have vibrators that aren't made for weak vanilla bitches who only need to cum once to the thought of their boss before they're satisfied. Couldn't be you.

Hey, maybe you'll call in sick to work and have a marathon once you've kicked this challenge's ass!

...nah. Better not. Miguel would catch word that you're off work and somehow find an anomaly to sic you on. Not to mention, you’d probably fucking break the new one again at that rate.

Once you've placed your order, you update the contract with estimated delivery dates, and settle in for a nice night in.

Let the games begin.

~

It is day one of your new lease on your sex life, and this shit's easy.

Who ever thought this would be difficult? Just don't masturbate. Do something else instead. Scroll social media or something. Wham, bam, thank you ma'am, you're so fucking disciplined it's unreal. Who needs to prove anything to anyone? You certainly don't.

This morning, you took out the trash and said farewell to the final remnants of your last toy lost to Miguel O'Hara's unfair physiology. You went to work, did your job perfectly fine, and went out to patrol the streets. When you returned, you returned to find that the garbage pickers had come and taken the bags away. Good riddance.

(You didn't hear this from me, but you only checked your email twice today for a shipping confirmation from the shop. You're so fucking good at this.)

~

It is day two of enacting a contract with yourself to be more disciplined and less horny, and your toy still has not shipped.

I mean, it's not really a big deal. You've got shit to do and all. It's now the weekend, but crime doesn't actually stop regardless of when you clock in and out of work, a fact which you're honestly very happy with. I mean, imagine if you never got to close down shop for an hour while someone beat the shit out of some comic book wannabe in the streets outside your office? Unsustainable, to say the least. And sometimes, you get to go beat someone up directly after a really obnoxious phone call, and honestly? That may be the only reason you haven't been fired yet.

So, you spend the morning chilling out, get lunch, and just as you've finished getting ready to head out for a neat little patrol, someone drawn in a suspiciously out-of-place art style launches past your window.

Perfectly punctual! This is great! You slide out your fire escape and give chase, launching yourself anomaly-ways with a hoot. It's only after you're already face-to-face with the guy that you think to let someone know what's up, but then you're being launched backwards so you don't really have the chance. Dammit.

Anyways, you've got this, so you really just need Miguel to take him back once you've kicked his ass, and—

Oh, speak of the devil. There he is launching through a portal directly at the guy, and there's you following up to join him.

It's practically a dance by now—you swing to catch up, use a web to pull this abstract motherfucker up and prevent him from causing issues with traffic. It takes precious little time to deal with him, and once he's sent back, you resign yourself to being dragged back to HQ to report in and probably hear something about how you should have called HQ to let them know about the anomaly.

"Did you plan on calling in the anomaly, or were you just going to try to handle everything yourself?" Miguel asks you the second the problem is dealt with.

Fucking called it.

"I literally had my hand on my wristband when you showed up."

"I didn't see it." He shrugs.

You can't help but roll your eyes. Part of you wants to be a brat. You gently remind yourself that being a brat only works if you're actually with a brat tamer, and you have no confirmation that Miguel would. You know, as if you had a chance with him anyway. He's married to his screens. (It’s a really good setup, so you don’t blame him.) "I did, though. He just kind of showed up outside my apartment, so I followed. Best to reduce collateral first, right?"

He sighs. He does that around you a lot. "Right."

See, this shit's easy. He's right in front of you, and you're telling him about the two minutes you had with the villain before he showed up, and your mind is on the topic at hand. You are present, and you are disciplined. You took no stupid hits during that fight. You're fucking fantastic.

...he's really pretty, though. Effortlessly, even. You think it’s the way he carries himself.

"So, hey, I already ate, but do you want me to bring you something to eat? I know that was like, more sunlight than you've gotten in the past month."

He raises an eyebrow at you. He does that around you a lot. "I do eat on occasion, you know."

"I do know! That's why I'm offering to bring you something. You're busy a lot and should probably eat more than you do."

"I'm fine," he says finally.

You quirk a little smile and turn to leave. "Fine, fine. I'll surprise you, then. See you in a few! Thanks for the assist!"

Okay, so maybe bringing him food is, among other things, an excuse to leave the room right now immediately and also a reason to come back, once you've wound down from the adrenaline of the fight.

But, consider this: shut up.

You return with a box of food for him, quietly leave it on his desk just out of his immediate line of sight, and sneak out of the room before he can tell you no.

When you're home, you decide that you owe it to yourself to chill out a little more. You did good! You got the guy! You did a nice thing for the very attractive person at HQ! Your mind only wandered a little! You didn't even let your voice kink take over your brain when he spoke to you!

So, you scroll mindlessly. A nice, restorative pastime that only has positive effects on your mental health.

And goddammit, your mutual put porn on your dash again.

You sigh, you stare at it too long, and you try to keep your mind off it. You really, really do.

~

It is day four of the contract, and your new vibrator has finally shipped.

Great, too, because it was definitely not starting to get difficult. You usually hang around HQ on Sundays, if nothing's going on in your own dimension. You like being helpful, so you keep yourself on standby.

Standby is a nice thing to be on. You get to hang out with other Spiders, learn from the others at HQ. Sometimes they've got cool tricks to show you, or you run into less experienced Spiders and get to teach them something fucked up they can do with their webs. Rarely, Miguel actually leaves his little Spider-cave for food or to track someone down. More rarely, you actually catch glimpses of him when he does, which is how you find yourself chilling out with one of your favored Peters and pretending like you're not looking at his ass.

What? It's a nice ass.

...you wonder what he'd do if you just grabbed his ass one day. You're kind of tempted to try.

(Probably have to punish you. Probably growl a little bit. Probably bend you over and—)

Anyway, this shit's easy. Looking at a hot guy's ass does not break your rules, so you let yourself peek when he walks by and play it off when you get called out on it by a teasing Peter. I mean, it doesn't exactly work, but at least playing it off looks better than openly staring at your collective boss's ass and not even pretending you weren't.

Keep telling yourself that, anyway.

~

It is day five of your quest to be more horny and less disciplined, and—wait, that's not right.

It is day five of your quest to be more disciplined and less horny, and your dreaming brain has fucking betrayed you.

You dreamed that you actually grabbed his ass. You dreamed that he turned on you.

You dreamed of Miguel taking you back to his cave with him, and demanding answers for your behavior, and you dreamed of pushing him over the edge until he yanked you over with a well-placed web and spanked you back into your place. You’re not usually that into spanking, but that did not stop you from waking up with a damp heat between your legs and the urge to do something about it. You indulged yourself, in the time it took you to wake up, and then, by the time you were really conscious, you had to rip your hand out of your sleep shorts, lest you prove Miguel right. And you’ll be fucked if you ever prove Miguel right.

…wait.

Okay, so look. You stopped. You didn’t cum. You’re doing a good job. You wash your hands, get ready for work, carefully adjust your suit underneath your work clothes, and get through the day.

~

It is day seven of this bullshit, and you are starting to get tired of this story format.

More than that, you’re tired of this story. You tried to distract yourself with reading, only all your books are about vampires, so that only got you thinking even more because the POV character got bit by a vampire and it was so well-described and so horny and you’re very horny and moderately-described now.

You get called in, because of course you do, and you see his stupid face, because of course you do, and you’re desperately torn between pissing him off to get him to flash his fangs your way and being relieved that he’s not angry enough to speak clearly.

You are decidedly not relieved. The knowledge that they are there is enough, and you have every intent to hump your pillow when you get home like some fucking teenager, knowing damn well that it’s never enough for you.

Sleep-deprived, and you move to leave, but no, it never works that way, does it?

“[name]. A moment.”

Fuck.

You dally a bit with a sigh. “You’ve got to have better things to do with your time than badger me for details I already gave you.”

“You’re going to be off for the next few days.”

That’s worse, actually. Your hackles raise on instinct, and you turn to glare at him. “What? No! I’ve been doing a good job, haven’t I?”

You hate the stern way he looks at you. He’s an enigma, one you’re still trying to learn when you’re not too busy being infatuated with him on every other front. It’s difficult to tell what’s stern and what’s just his beautiful resting bitch face, but you’re leaning more towards stern. “You’re doing too good. It’s concerning.”

You are floored. You are aghast. You are fucking flabbergasted.

“You told me to be more disciplined?”

“Is this discipline?”

He’s hard to piss off. Not for anyone else—he has firm opinions and knows what’s best, and you never really want to piss him off for any reason beyond seeing him go a little feral at you, so you take extra care to actually just listen to him, aside from the small quips and quibbles of the day-to-day. Right now, though, you want to piss him off. You are vibrating with horny energy and affronted energy and genuinely just Energy, so with your fists clenched, you turn up your nose at him. "I don't know, you tell me." Okay, that's good. It's mildly flirty. You are winning at Being a Brat.

"I'm sure you do know. Discipline is not what I would call throwing a fit at being ordered to take care of yourself. It's definitely not stomping your feet at being told no."

"I am taking care of myself! I am balancing work, sleep, eating regularly, bouncing around the multiverse and my own dimension, and I'm not even complaining about anything!"

"You are actively complaining. To me. Right now."

"Because I don't understand why you're punishing me for doing a good job!"

"Trust me, you don't want to know what an actual punishment would look like from me."

Oh.

You quite do, actually.

You are grateful for the dim lighting Miguel keeps, grateful that he's not likely to notice the sudden flush to your cheeks. If he does, he's more likely to take it as anger, anyhow.

"Go home. Get some rest. It's obvious you haven't been sleeping enough."

"T-that is really rich, coming from you!"

"And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean that the only proof I have that you ever eat or leave this room is sometimes I bring you food and it gets eaten. You take care of yourself, and I'll gladly take care of myself."

"Are you trying to strike up a deal with me?"

"Is it working?"

"No."

You hum, feeling the thrill of gaining ground. He's turned away from you, proving that you're right.

"Look, Miguel, we'll both get dinner and get some sleep, and tomorrow morning, the multiverse will still be here, intact, because you are not the only person who can handle yourself and I am not the only person who can handle mine, and—"

"If you would please shut up, I will go eat food."

"Good."

He scoffs. "Already blowing it."

Infuriated, you open your mouth in retort, then slam it shut. You turn, and you leave, and try not to let his voice echo around inside your empty head like a Windows screensaver.

~

Miguel's voice echoes around inside your empty head like a Windows screensaver, because Miguel’s voice does not care what you are or are not trying to do for your sanity. Every time it hits a corner, you switch between scrolling your phone in frustration, fingering yourself in frustration, and refreshing your package tracker in frustration. Nothing moves or changes, and you are still thinking about his threats to punish you, still thinking about whether he's actually getting good rest, still considering the idea that maybe as part of his you-mandated self care routine tonight, he has gotten food, gone to wherever his bedroom is (likely somewhere hidden in the depths of HQ), and also resorted to lazy masturbation.

You know better to do more than dream, though, so you are stuck with the knowledge that he is not, that, knowing him, he probably waited for you to leave HQ and immediately turned back around to go back to his comfortable dark room, his comfortable monitors, and his comfortable total lack of self-care.

Still, a Spider can dream, and right now, you are dreaming of his cock.

You are rubbing small, slow circles into your clit, two-fingered, and you imagine what he must look like. Healthy fantasies dictate that he's probably only a little above average, so that's what you try to imagine when you think of what he must look like fisting his cock. Your mind conjures the sound of him groaning quietly into a too-large room, the sight of his face, flush with desire that only darkens his handsome features.

It is only a daydream in spite of the late hour, and your imagination can only wander so far, but you allow yourself to think of his fangs flashing as he sighs into the motion, allow yourself to speed up a bit as you imagine him doing the same. He'd be thick, he'd work himself up to an inadvisable pace that you can barely match. He rarely cares for himself, and you imagine that'd translate well—not to desperation, but to desire that bleeds into demand.

It is, after all, quite difficult to tell when a request is an order when it comes to him.

Your body sings as you get close, and then you open your eyes just a little bit, and you see it. The fucking whiteboard.

Mournful, you yank your hand away and slam your face into your pillow.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory @roxannarichie @vegas-writing-den @cooch1ecruncher @bluepeanutharmony @yohoe-hoe

If you’d like to be added to the taglist, shoot me an ask or let me know in the notes what you’d like to be tagged in! (All content, all nsfw content, all content for a specific character, all content for a specific fandom, etc.)

#my fics #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara/reader

[trulybetty]

Sunday | Week in Review VII

Not too much to report on this week - Mr. Truly and I both had the week off and then the little Truly's were thrown off their routine and it's been a week. But it was capped off with a new addition to the household!

So without further ado, let's get on with this week's late-night Sunday in Review!

Truly Betty Updates This Week…

Cake (Marcus Pike)

Autumnal Offerings

Distracting (Joel Miller)

Smut, just Frankie smut

Fics I Enjoyed This Week…

Shared Breaths (Frankie Morales) by @frenchiereading This whole series is such a delight to read and let me tell you, chapter nine is worth reading multiple times over, let me tell you that 😏. But this is a perfect story - you've got yearning for the first half and the second half is the play out of a developing relationship that is so fun to watch play out. If you love Frankie, you won't be disappointed in this.

Turbulence (Frankie Morales) by @rhoorl Jess' first run at a one-shot on our main man this week Frankie does not disappoint! I don't mind flying, but I can guarantee any flight sitting next to our aviation expert Mr. Morales is going to be a lot smoother. This is such a fun read and I really hope we see him again in a possible continuation of this.

Saying I love you through an accidental kiss (Joel Miller) Pre-Outbreak by @songsformonkeys This one reappeared on my dash this week and it's always worth a re-read and always one I'll recommend. It's Joel at his most hectic, which is very much how I picture pre-outbreak Joel and just the build-up here and the kiss is such a toe-curling delight to read, that I squeal each time even though I know it's coming.

Strawberries (Joel Miller) by @softlyspector This is set after Clouds, but doesn't have to be read first before this one. This explores Ellie and Joel's relationship after the events of TLOU and delves into TLOU2 territory (no spoilers in either one-shot). As much as I love the idea of Ellie and Joel living happily ever after in Jackson - I do enjoy an angsty dive into their relationship as it is in the TLOU2 games. This and Clouds are excellent takes on this!

Hungry Hearts | Epilogue + Bonus I Wanna Mary You (Joel Miller) by @atinylittlepain How my heart wasn't ready for this to end - but Gin gave Jerry the send-off they deserved and not only that, we were treated to a bonus second part to the epilogue that I'm still raving about! Honestly, who wasn't reading this? But if you weren't, I suggest you do - you can binge all the posted chapters! Jerry4Eva! 💘

Candy (Dieter Bravo) by @secretelephanttattoo I imagine any date with Dieter to be chaotic and El does such a great job of describing such an event here. I feel like a broken record with how many times I referred to it as such, but it really is a deliciously raunchy romp and I'd gladly go for Ray-Ban candy floss with Dieter any time if this is the end result.

Working Title (Dieter Bravo) by @rhoorl Finally got to reading this and devoured it all. It reads like a fabulous romance novel you’d read at the beach and then want to re-read again because it’s just that enjoyable! Plus the last chapter? My loins have not recovered lol, cannot wait for the next update!

Conversations with a Movie Star | Chapter 3 (Dieter Bravo) by @gnpwdrnwhiskey Aside from my own OC x Dieter, this pairing is hot on their heels for the title of favourite OC x Dieter. Ava keeps Dieter on his toes and has made herself at home at the Bravo Inn. The descriptions of landmarks in Myrtle Beach are fantastic, the chemistry is *chefs kiss*, and the way @gnpwdrnwhiskey writes Dieter 'Anthony' Bravo is fantastic. Please do take some time out to read this series - the premise alone is superb, you won't be disappointed - trust me!

Posts I Enjoyed This Week… Okay, so there's a reason this week's week in review is christened 'Sunday Thots' - the thots were out in force this week!

@goodwithcheese’s thread on the origin of Frankie’s oral skills

@beskarandblasters’s curation of creators with a smaller following

@legendary-pink-dot's Catfish Pond PHD program's latest curriculum, Pedro & Oscar

with Catfish PhD Logo, that I will figure out how to make into a shirt at some point 

@grogusmum doing the hard work for us and sending us all to horny jail

Jess’ deep dive on Grey Sweatpants Season with the Triple Frontier boys - thinking she should visit the Last of Us next 😏

Things I’ve Enjoyed This Week… No competition this week the most enjoyable thing was the addition of Francesca 'Frankie' Cat to the Truly household...

This Week’s Song… Not much has been played this week, but if you saw my mood board for Salt Water last week- this is where the title takes itself from...

Happy Sunday all! Here's to a great week ahead! 💕 xx

#betty's sunday in review #Spotify

[asherthehimbo]

Always Black Cats And Bitter Coffee: Chapter 5 [part 2]

Chapter 5 [part 2] : Sanni

[Next -> CHAPTER 5: part 3 ]

warnings: Sanni, malnourishment, assult, bad legal talk, kidnapping, kinda? talks about previous assult/abuse, Minho being down bad, panick attacks, hospitals, mention comatose state, mentions of passing out, mentions of being drugged, a lot of other things I cant think of

word count: 2.6K

You don't remember much before waking up in Minho’s arms. You remember getting to work, you remember seeing familiar pink hair outside the cafe, you remember starting to panic, you remember bolting to the back of the cafe the moment Sani had reached for the door. As if she wanted to try and enter the cafe.

You don’t remember going home. You don’t remember getting into bed or changing your shirt. You don’t know why Minho is here, nor why you're using him as a pillow. You realize it's dark out when looking out the window and bolt upright in a panic, Minho doing the same. “Hey, woah, calm down.” he puts his hands on your shoulders, a way to try and keep you grounded.

“What happened? Why am I home? I- The cafe, I need to go and close. What are you doing here?” Questions flew out of you at warp speed, worry overtaking you. You could feel your throat burning, and you started coughing right after your words left your mouth. You brought your hand up to grab your neck only to feel bandages covering it. Minho quickly gave you a bottle of water. You didn't know where he got it from. “Calm down, breathe for me. You had a panic attack, and you fell asleep afterwards, Mei called me, and I was close, so I came to help you. Mei already closed the cafe, Star is in the living room, and everything is fine. I’m here because I didn't wanna leave you confused.”

You slowly nod your head at his words, taking everything in. You tried to speak again, only for your voice to come out scratchy. You drank some more water before pointing to your neck questioningly. “ Oh, uhm when I found you, you kept scratching your neck, it's not as bad as it looks, I just couldn't apply the bandages well since you were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you with too much movement.” Minho supplied, you nodded your head.

That had happened before, back when you had regular panic attacks scratching your neck was normal. “Do you want to- Actually nevermind. What happened? I understand that you may not want to talk about it, but you really scared me and Mei, and If I’m gonna have to keep this a secret from the others I need to know the full story” Minho was right, you did need to talk about it, but hearing his words reminded you of something.

“Where are Seungmin and I.N ?” You asked worriedly. If they were here when Minho brought you home, you knew it wouldn't be long until this information would be relayed to Hong Joong, who would then tell Mingi and Yunho “I called in a favor with Felix, so they’re having a sleepover at my place, I guessed you wouldn't want them to worry about you” you breathed a sigh of relief at Minho’s words before starting to fiddle with the cap of the bottle of water in your hands. “And um.. My shirt?”

“When I got to you your shirt had been ripped up, you seemingly tore through it in an effort to get to your neck and chest, Mei said you had an extra one in your bag so after I put on your bandages I put it on.” Minho supplied before standing up, walking to your dresser before picking up some new bandages, and what looked like a salve. “I know you're tired, but I need to apply some of this and then re-apply the bandages correctly. Do you think you can tell me what happened while I do that?” His voice was so gentle, so caring, you didn’t think you could deny him.

You nodded your head before standing up to go sit on the chair by your dresser in front of him.``Umm it’s a bit long and triggering, so if there's something I mention that makes you uncomfortable, could you please tell me?” Minho’s heart broke at your words. You were worrying about him even though this was your story, even in your current state. “Ofcourse, could you take off your shirt? The bandages go around some of your collarbone as well” You complied, albeit a bit hesitant, “I um have some sca-” he interrupted your words, “I know, I found you without a shirt, remember? You don’t have to tell me about them if you don’t want to, although I am curious.”

“It’s kind of connected to the story, so I don’t mind telling you, it happened a while ago, so it’s not as triggering for me anymore, I kind of got over it, besides they’ve started to heal, you can only really see them up close, remember a month ago when Felix and Hyunjin freaked out when we had that measuring with Innie? I had thought it was because they saw my scars, but quickly brushed that off, cause they were too far away, and they started giggling, so I don’t think it's that. I trust you, though Minho, despite only having known you for a little over 2 months, so I don’t mind telling you.” You smiled up at him as if you were trying to comfort him despite you being the one affected by whatever happened.

He processed your words for a moment before remembering the moment you were talking about, when Felix and Hyunjin were being weird because they saw your scars, only they didn't see your scars, they saw your soulmark, and they didn't tell him. That added another conversation he needed to have to his list.

“I’m happy that you feel comfortable with me” was all Minho said before he slowly started unwrapping the bandages, because what else was he supposed to say? You took a deep breath before starting to talk.

“Only Seungmin, Innie, and Chan know about this here. Although they don’t know the full story, they know the jist of it. So when I was about 15, this girl came up to me and my friend, she was really sweet and I guess I developed a soft spot for her? I kind of saw her as a younger sister and then about two weeks into our friendship she comes up to me saying she’s my soulmate, she had the same tattoo as me and everything -’ Minho’s hands stopped their motion of unwrapping the bandages, You didn’t seem to notice, “-obviously I was excited, I mean my soulmate was someone I was close to, but something still felt off I guess? Like the feelings I had for her were nothing like what my friends, Nugget, and his soulmate had for each other, I’ve told you about them before, right?” Minho hums in agreement because yes, you have told him about your friend Nugget and his soulmate, Yuyu.

“So I talked to them about it, and they said that maybe it's just different for everyone, I mean she had the same soulmark and everything, so we brushed it off thinking it was just nervousness. So life went on, me and her dated for 5 years Minho, 5 years of my life I spent caring for her, loving her, and feeling guilty because I felt as If my love wasn't enough. I did love her, but I couldn't bring myself to love her as much as my friends described their love for their soulmates. Do you know how much that hurt me? Everyone talked as if they were in love, and I only talked as if I loved her, not as if I was in love with her. I don’t know if that even makes sense, but that's how I saw it. We broke up at the end of my first year at uni when I was still in Kq. It was a messy ordeal, but basically she had class with one of my friends, she dropped one of her books when walking out of class, my friend had picked it up, and wanted to give it back to her, but his boyfriend had stopped him, he was nosy and wanted to find out what it was I guess. One of the only times his curiosity might have been for the best. I still remember when they showed me the book. It was blue, almost the same shade as my hair, it looked so plain? On the outside, but opening, it is still something that haunts me to my core.” Minho felt you shiver under his fingers. He didn't know if it was because of the memory you were reliving or the salve he was applying to your scratch marks.

“The book was basically like a log of me, she had everything wrote down, my schedules, my friends, how much she hates said friends, her plans to get rid of my friends, everything was written down, but worst of all was, she admitted, in this stupid little journal she admitted she wasn't my soulmate, her tattoo was fake fake Minho, she faked everything, she had fake tattoo’s custom made when she was young, and got a real one as soon as she turned 18, she had special markers that she would use to color in the little heart based on my moods too, because that’s something my tattoo does, it tells me how my soulmate feels via colors, fuck she even based her mood on the color of my tattoo.” You were crying now, and Minho didn’t know what to do. He was so unbelievably angry and yet all he wanted to do was cradle you in his arms, he gently wrapped the last of the bandage around your neck, before squatting down so that he was looking up at you, eye’s soft, his had placed on your cheek and thumb wiping away your tears, you leaned into his touch.

“ I- I confronted her about it obviously, my friends wanted to come with me, told me she was dangerous and despite it being true I didn’t want to believe it. I mean it made sense yes, why our love always felt forced, felt wrong, but I still didn’t want to believe it, she was such a big part of my life, I didn’t want to believe someone who I loved, someone who I trusted, would do this to me. As you can guess, it didn't go so well, the scars I have, they- they” You had struggled to speak further.

“Hey, hey it’s okay, calm down, take a breath, you don’t need to tell me if it's too hard for you” Minho’s voice was calm and reassuring, “No I want to tell you, I need to tell you. I trust you” You took another deep breath before continuing. “Turns out she was much more dangerous than I thought, she had this thought that if she could make me look at her, look at out bond-” You spit the word out as if it was repulsive, as if it burned, as if it was the worst word in the korean vocabulary, and Minho couldn't help but agree.

“- that I would understand we were meant to be. The scars, they aren't self-inflicted despite the looks of it. She did it, she made sure to leave the mark unharmed, something about how now I had no choice but to look at the tattoo that had been the same as hers, and how now that I was scared nobody else would accept me. That now I was truly hers and how she’s been waiting years to do this. She waited years to scar my body just so that she could feed into her own delusions. Eventually, my friends had found me, about a week later, she had hid well. The thing is, I had already passed out due to lack of sustenance, blood loss, and the shock of it all. I was in a comatose state for about 2 weeks before I woke up. According to my friends, she had been arrested on the spot, but the police were having trouble keeping her because the only evidence they had, me, was unconscious. Eventually, after I gave a statement, they could keep her on second-degree assault since there was no intent on murder. Things had gotten rough after that. Everything reminded me of her. I had frequent panic attacks, I couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, eventually, when I had passed out for the 4th time due to malnutrition, the school had consulted my parents and let me move schools. My parents aren't really around, so they don't know everything that happened either. Things had started to get better, but about 4 months ago I got a call from the officer that was handling my case, They let Sanni, the girl, go because the prison was overcrowded and she had good behavior, I started panicking a bit when hearing that, but foolishly felt safe enough because I was in a new school, I kept to myself, and I have a fucking restraining order against her. Guess that doesn't mean shit, because today that pink haired bitch showed up to the cafe, I guess it just sent me back, I’m sorry for worrying you”

Minho had taken a moment to process your words before he just leaned forward, wrapped his arms around your waist and hugging you as tight as he could, his cheek placed right on the tattoo you two shared, was he crying? Yes, but you didn’t need to know that. You looked down in surprise before placing your hand in his hair. “Don't ever apologize for making me worry, worrying about you is a conscious decision I made, and it's something I plan on doing a lot more after what you've just told me because holy shit [Name], the fact that your still standing is something I'm so glad about. I am so sorry that you had to go through that and that the police are too incompetent to realize she should be locked up for life.” Minho looked up at you, eye’s glossy and tear tracks on his cheeks matching your own. “From now on I’ll protect you, okay? From now on you come to me if anything happens” He smiled up at you, a loving smile, as if he was looking at the most precious thing in the world, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel things.

“Why do you care so much?” you asked, only after realizing that it may have come off as rude, but the question was based on nothing but pure curiosity. “{Name], I care because-” This was his chance, his chance to tell you that he was yours, that he was the one you shared a bond with. “- I care because I’m your friend” you smiled down at him. “I think you’re bumped up to my best friend now” you chuckled, “Would your Nugget be okay with that?” Minho responded back to try and lighten the mood. “He’s just going to have to deal with it.” You responded, “Now come on, all this crying made me hungry” You stood up after Minho released you, putting on your shirt before walking out of the room, motioning for him to follow.

He could have told you, could have become yours, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. You needed a friend right now. You didn’t need a soulmate to add to this mess, so for now, he would be your friend. If you were happy, he was content with staying here. Protecting you from far away.

But with the realization that Sanni saw him and knows where you work, he thinks it will be much harder than he expected. He whips out his phone sending a message in the gc he has with the two idiots, before putting the device back in his pocket and walking out of your room, following the sound of your voice cooing at Star.

abc × 2 masterlist | soulbound masterlist | Stray kids masterlist

Current Taglist[7/30]: @i-dont-know-me-either @gaysontheprince @skzhoes @xavi-in-kpopland @moonlight-894 @foxilsdenn @conwunder

note: Okay, so the legal talk in this is bad, but we move on. Please tell me what you all think of the story so far! also tell me what u think of Sanni😈 cause we are going to be seeing a lot more of here after this. Also, just a reminder, the way Blue handles trauma in this smau is not a reflection of the only way to deal with a trauma. Everyone has their own methods

#skz #stray kids #crossover #skz smau #smau #kpop x male reader #abc×2 smau #stray kids lee know

[duckapus]

Squid Memes Squidbeak Splatoon (part 2)

Part 1 Here

More Harbor because he gave me Brain Worms

Born and Raised in Littol Beeg Bluff (yes the same Littol Beeg Bluff from "The Ballad of Dusty Grumpton" in the Factory Reset AU. I'm allowed to re-use my own ideas if I damn well please)

Comes from a blended family, and his stepmom and younger siblings (twin boy and girl around eight) are actually Koopa Troopas of all things.

The only playable Agent to both know and like his parents

Seriously Habor's moms are fucking awesome. Everybody in the NSS loves Harbor's moms

About 80% Humboldt Squid (aka Jumbo Flying Squid), which is why he's so fucking tall. It also means that he's really fast in swim form, to the point that he could probably outswim someone who'd filled all the slots on a piece of gear with Swim Speed Up without any Swim Speed Up investment of his own. (this is inspired by Lucky, another, very different version of Agent 4 made by EikaPrime on Ao3)

Eight

Yes she just goes by Eight. She was a little self-conscious about it at first but then she found out about SMG4 and the other SM64 Blooper Youtubers and no longer gives a shit

If she remembers her old name yet she's not mentioned it

Obviously doesn't remember her parents, but given the Domes are the kind of place where you can Start Training to Become an Advanced Military Hardware Engineer and Elite Soldier at Fucking Nine Years Old, I imagine she wouldn't have many memories of them even without the Amnesia

Contrary to popular fanon, my version of Eight doesn't have a scar from the Test Failed Bomb. This is because Respawn Pads (as long as they're fully functional) completely erase whatever the fatal injury was, leaving no trace apart from maybe some phantom pains if it was particularly nasty

She does, however, have plenty of scars from all the other shit she went through in that hellhole

Managed to complete every single test before she escaped

My version of Eight is a single year younger than Marina canonically is when they meet so I'm not going the Off the Hook Adoption route for this one (maybe in another AU with a more lose interpretation of Canon, but given this AU is specifically meant to adhere to Splatoon Canon as much as possible we're out'a luck this time), though she does still become very close friends with them

She's got Craig literally right there for any potential adoption attempts anyway

Very rarely speaks, but is expressive enough that most people can tell what she means anyway (you know Ferb? It's the exact same thing as what Ferb does)

Doesn't have a weapon preference. She's comfortable with any weapon she gets her hands on

Except Splatanas

She fucking hates Splatanas and everything they stand for

Configuring Frye's Palette in the Memverse was legitimately harder than dealing with her own Palette's stupid "Hacks or Chips, you can't have both" Gimmick Bullshit

Andi Finn

Has no fucking idea who her parents were and does not care

Actual supergenius who could probably build a functioning replica of Grizz's rocket out of scrap metal from just her memory of fighting on top of it. Never learned how to read before the NSS got ahold of her because she lived alone in the desert

Swears more than Bob

Can't remember where she learned Salmonid from

Somehow even the homeless kid has better hygiene than Paige

Made up her last name on the spot when she was signing up for a Turfing License (if you're wondering how she managed to sign up for a Turfing License when she couldn't read; With Great Difficulty)

Figures she probably isn't a full Inkling given her weird beartrap beak but doesn't give enough of a shit to take a DNA test about it

Yet

Paige dragged her home to their apartment almost immediately after the final battle against Mr. Grizz and she never left. It's not an official adoption but that's only because Paige is a bit oblivious to their own feelings on the matter and Andi doesn't know that paperwork is supposed to be involved

Almost exclusively calls Paige "Cap" even when they're out of uniform. I mean, she can't very well call them "Mom" or "Dad" since they're nonbinary, now can she? Paige has no idea that's what she means by it and just thinks it's a nickname because Andi gives everybody nicknames. Usually as insults

It took her 333 tries to get through "Splitting Crosshairs" (I legitimately Cannot beat that stupid kettle no matter how hard I try and want her to share my frustration but also want all four agents to have 100%ed their respective adventures so I'm just having it take her a comically long time to do)

Mains Explosher because it's the closest she can get to a Turf-Legal grenade launcher (for now...)

The Eternal Hunger, Devourer of the Bear

Is fine with people using Crabcake instead

Uses It/Its exclusively

Officially designated Agent 5 I will die on that hill

Was "The Eternal Hunger, Stabber of Ankles" before going through Return of the Mammalians

Will stab anyone who points out that it didn't actually eat Mr. Gizz, he just exploded

Extremely eloquent, but most people can't speak Salmonid so it just sounds like it's making the same gurgley noises as every other Smallfry

Once looked Marie dead in the eyes and said "No one will ever believe you" in perfect Inklish while they were alone. Has never said anything else in anything other than Salmonid where someone can hear it

Andi and Crabcake fucking hated each-other for the first third of their adventure before bonding over kicking Frye's ass and now they're inseparable

Actually gets its own uniform after everything's said and done. It consists of a little high-rez safety vest (like the one on Paige's field uniform), an earpiece (suction-cupped in place since it doesn't have external ears) in the same style as Andi's headset, and a clean black-with-thin-yellow-racing-stripes-on-the-sides pants...wrap...thing

It also got a new switchblade from Sheldon (the old one got lost in the space battle after it turned into Hugefry) with the same kind of black-with-blue-LEDs aesthetic as Paige's gear and a blade made of Sardinium

Also thinks that it and Andi are already adopted by Paige but that's for Salmonid Culture Reasons instead of Not Having an Education Reasons

Got separated from its swarm during a Run a few months before Return of the Mammalians. It wasn't too fussed about it and figured it could handle itself in the desert for a while and then either reunite with that swarm if it ran into them or join a new one if it happened to come across one. Because Salmonid Culture

Considers the NSS its current swarm

#i wish squid memes were real au #octo expansion #side order #return of the mammalians #new squidbeak splatoon #agent 4 #harbor current #agent 8 #eight splatoon #neo agent 3 #andi finn #little buddy #agent 5 #crabcake the smallfry #freaks(affectionate). all of them #paige is kind of a dumbass when it comes to their own emotions #andi may not know how paperwork works YET but given they're now part of a goverment agency they'll unfortunately learn pretty quick #not sure what (if anything) i'll have harbor's dad be like #but i'm leaning towards “great guy who's unfortunately currently Fucking Dead” #i like the oth adopts eight fanon as much as the next guy (as seen in one or two of my oth-related posts) but it just doesn't work here

[thebirdandthebee]

Imagine Me & You

A Jake “Hangman” Seresin fic.

First time writing TGM fanfic - please be gentle.

Jake stumbles across a woman on base that seems to enjoy the finer things in life... just like the future he’d like to build - with her in it.

Chapter 2: Making Headway

“Hi Grandma,”  Mia smiled, stepping into Dorothea Thomas’ suite.

“Hello darling girl,” Dorothea was having a good day according to her aides. Dorothea Thomas was clearly where Mia got many of her physical attributes. The same golden-brown eyes, the same blonde hair and the same pronounced cupid’s bow. She was honored to share the features.

“How are you doing today?” She asked, taking a seat beside the matriarch and staring out at the rolling ocean.

It did take a small chunk out of Mia’s inheritance to keep her grandmother in this particular care facility, but it was worth it. She trusted the staff, her grandmother loved the ocean, and she could live as close to independence as possible.

As a woman who lived her whole life in the Midwest, she was thankful each day to see the coast.

“How can I complain?” Dorothea asked with a small smile as her granddaughter poured her a glass of iced tea.

The truth was, she could complain. She lost her husband to war, her son to a heart attack and used some of the prime years of her life raising her two motherless grandchildren. At least, for as long as she could.

“Jack is coming into town next week,” Mia said, taking a sip of her own tea.

“Oh, how wonderful,” Dorothea smiled serenely.

“We’ll be by to go to brunch and down to the water,” Mia said, holding her grandmother’s hand in her own.

“I always love when you come to visit, Lenora,” Dorothea sighed, patting Mia’s hand on top of her own. Mia simply smiled and gently rest her head against her grandmother’s shoulder.

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“Jack Jack,” Mia giggled, feeling as if she was glowing when her baby brother swept her off her feet in a big hug.

“Man I missed you, Mimi.” He said, burying his face in her neck. “Missed you more,” she insisted, rubbing her hand up and down his back. She opted for a pair of crisp white sneakers today, making their height difference even more apparent. “Have your suitcase?” She asked, peeking around his shoulder.

“I got it,” he said, lifting the Rimowa into the trunk of the Jaguar. “Can I drive?” He grinned.

“A promise is a promise,” she agreed, handing over the keys. She lifted the IU hat from his head, running her fingers through his fine blonde hair before replacing the cap. “How’s your elbow?” She asked as he opened the passenger door for her.

“Good, really good,” he insisted. “I’ll need to ice and heat while I’m here, but other than that, doing good.

“I’m so happy you’re here.” She sighed as he started up the car. “Come on, I got everything to make your favorite dinner.”

The drove in peace, chatting excitedly about everything they could since seeing each other last over Christmas in Indiana. Mia had flown out to IU, helped re-stock Jack’s college house he shared with four of his baseball teammates and cooked Christmas dinner for the group of misfits who weren’t able to go home for the holidays.

“Classes are going good?” Mia asked, stirring the spicy pasta sauce on a low simmer.

“Really good,” Jack nodded. “My last year will be pretty light so I can focus on my senior capstone and job hunting.” He said, smearing a wipe of goat cheese on crusty bread.

“Good, Jack, I’m proud of you,” Mia smiled, “and baseball?” She asked.

“It’s going okay,” Jack shrugged. “I think I can get a few combine invites, but I don’t want to rely on it.”

“Smart man,” she nodded.

“How about you? You’re settled, you’re living the life here?” He asked, leaning against the kitchen counter top and watching as she carefully poured heavy cream into her saucepan.

“I think so?” She shrugged. “I don’t see it as permanent, but I enjoy it for right now.”

“Is it weird? Working for the military?” He asked, grimacing softly.

“A little,” she laughed. “I don’t know, sometimes I feel separate from it because one, I’m not enlisted or a pilot, but two, I’m also pretty removed from all the procedure and formality.” She shrugged. “We can go visit the base this week – there’s going to be an airshow for families that I thought could be cool. My boss said he’d give us a tour of the base.”

“That would be dope,” Jack nodded.

“Okay, need you to drain the noodles, please,” she said, tapping him gently. They worked seamlessly together around the kitchen, two peas in a pod that relied on each other more than anyone would ever know.

She didn’t know what she’d do without her Jack.

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Jake Seresin’s eyes tracked the two blondes that hopped out of the vintage Jag.

He had been in and out of base for the past few weeks on assignment and working with some of the young guns before returning to Miramar for a two-month assignment.

Drawing the short stick, he was asked to attend and oversee today’s airshow, which would take place a few hours from now.

Seeing Mia was like a breath of fresh air. She hadn’t been running laps through his mind for weeks, but she had been strutting in those heels for certain.

“Hangman,” in a rare moment, Jake was caught off guard as he whirled around to see Lt. Gen. Bozek.

“Buzzer,” Jake replied.

“Welcome back,” he greeted as they shook hands. “Glad to be grounded for a bit?” He asked, standing in front of the large picture window beside the aviator.

“Grounded no? But not bouncing around for a short while will do me some good,” His eyes flicked back out to where Mia was adjusting a small leather backpack – her companion helping her shorten the strap.

“I see Mia’s brother arrived in town,” Bozek commented, watching Jake out of the corner of his eye.

“Brother?” Jake asked more to himself than anything else.

“Good kid – plays baseball at Indiana,” Bozek elaborated. “They’re close – she gives me regular updates on him. They’re pretty much it as far as family goes.”

Who knew Bozek would be a fountain of information?

“I could introduce you, if you’d like.” He offered.

“Appreciate it, but we’re old friends at this point,” Jake smirked.

“Make good decisions,” Bozek called out as Jake departed the administrative building. “I always do,” Jake said confidently.

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“Snow cones should be available in more public places,” Jack said, finishing up his treat and tossing the paper cone in the trash nearby. “So what kind of planes are here?” He asked, draping his arm around his sister’s shoulder. She was centering a nice shot on her iPhone as he asked.

“Honestly I have no idea, I couldn’t tell you the difference between any of these.” She admitted. “They kind of all look the same to me.”

“Helps to have a professional around,” Jake said, rounding on the pair. “Hello, Jake Seresin,” he stuck out his hand for Jack to shake.

“Jack Thomas,” The height difference was off by just an inch or two – but still hovered around the clouds over Mia’s head.

“Hi Lieutenant Commander,” Mia said, leaning into her brother’s side. “This is my baby brother, Jack.”

“As you can see, graduated from being a baby many years ago,” Jack bumped her shoulder.

“Pleasure,” Jake nodded.

“You’ve been out and about, right? I feel like it’s been a moment since I’ve seen you.” Mia commented.

“Unfortunately that’s classified information,” Jake replied, a tight grin on his face.

Jack’s eyes darted back and forth between the pilot, who was zipped carefully in his flight suit, and his older sister. It was nothing new watching men sniff around his big sister, and this man was no exception.

Jake was aware of the man’s observance.

“Are you flying today, Lieutenant Commander?” Mia asked, tucking her phone back in her pocket.

“Just here for safety,” Jake commented. “We’ll have a few of our young guys doing the showcase.”

“But they’ll be flying the planes you normally fly?” She asked.

“Demonstrations today include my usual aircraft, an F-18 Super Hornet, an E-2 Hawkeye and an F-35 Lightning,” he listed off. “We’ll have some jumpers as well.”

“Do you jump?” Mia asked, genuinely curious.

“Only if the occasion calls for it.” Jake replied. “Ejecting will take about and inch and a half off of your height as your spine compresses.” He explained, watching her eyes widen just a bit. “Sick,” Jack commented.

“How long are you in town for?” Jake asked.

“Just for the week,” Jack replied, “I’m in school and had a small break,” He explained.

“Baseball, right?” Jake asked, aware of Mia’s eyes on him. “What position?”

“Short,” Jack said. “Started at third as a freshman and migrated over.”

“I’ve got a cousin that plays professionally in Houston,” Jake commented. “Is that the plan?”

��Jack is finishing up school to be an engineer,” Mia said, beaming with pride.

“Lots of great opportunities in the Navy,” Jake raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No, no, no,” Mia said, throwing her arms around her brother and hugging him tight. “This is not a recruiting session.”

“It could be,” Jake countered.

“It’s not,” she was firm.

“Appreciate the offer,” Jack laughed.

“Is there a plane you need to go get into?” Mia asked.

“Grounded for a while now, don’t you worry,” Jake said. “Enjoy your visit, sir.” He extended his hand out to Jack once again, noting how the student’s handshake was just a bit stronger than their first. “See you around, Mia,” he said with finality.

Jack waited until the Lieutenant Commander was out of earshot.

“What’s his deal?” He asked, the sound of a plane approaching in the distance.

“What do you mean?” Mia said, ambling forward alongside her brother.

“He’s intense,” Jack commented.

“You think so? Didn’t notice,” she shrugged.

“You guys hook up?” He asked.

“Jackson Thomas!” She laughed, “no we did not hook up!”

“Well, he’s trying,” Jack shrugged.

“Come on, let’s find you another snow cone.” She rolled her eyes.

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Even though he was 21 and well within his legal rights, it was still weird for Mia to see Jack drinking in a bar. Even more so now that he was tearing it up with the Top Gun pilots, playing pool and joking around with levity she didn’t get to see him have too often.

“You going to be able to carry that giant man home?” Bobbi asked, grinning as she watched the Top Gun pilots hoot, holler and leap on your brother as he sunk a shot.

“I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again,” Mia laughed.

“Okay, two IPAs and a French 75 for the lady,” Bobbi’s friend Tina set down the next round of drinks. “Moose over there will have to get his own, but I think the boys have him covered,” she tilted her head back toward Jack.

Tina was nice – she worked off base but was married to one of the Top Gun instructors and had been at Miramar for a few months.

“I think they’re living the frat boy college fantasy they never got,” Bobbi commented, making Mia laugh.

“Jack doesn’t get to blow off steam too often, either,” she took a long sip of her cocktail. “Between practice, games, traveling, workouts and class, Indy’s got him pretty booked.”

“All the more power to ‘em,” Tina clinked her glass against Bobbi and Mia’s.

“So Mia, you’re cute and young and single, and I’m old and haggard and locked down – how are you blowing off steam?” Tina asked.

Mia giggled, stalling with another sip of her drink.

“Not currently blowing off any steam – or anyone for that matter,” she winked, making Bobbi and Tina laugh.

“Babes you’ve got the pick of the litter,” Tina insisted loudly. “Your heels are high, your tits are perky and that dress is really doing something.” She elaborated.

“First of all, thank you, you’re so kind,” Mia smiled, “but hooking up with someone on base? I work here!” She insisted.

“Uh yeah, that’s like the whole point,” Tina said, looking pointedly over at Bobbi. “Nowhere else on earth, are you going to find a smorgasbord of men like this.” She said, waving her drink around. “They’re hot, they’re young, they’re eager to please and have something to prove – I’m not saying you’ve gotta marry ‘em, though I did, but it’s worth considering.” She insisted.

“Tina I love when you wax poetic about me,” The ladies looked up to see an unfamiliar face.

“Roost!” Bobbi and Tina hopped out of their seats to give the mustachioed man a firm squeeze. He was more than happy to take them up in his arms.

“Mia this is Rooster,” Bobbi introduced.

“Hi Rooster, I’m Mia,” the blonde smiled widely, sticking out her hand.

“What are you doing here?” Tina asked, taking her seat again as Rooster hovered near the table.

“Eight weeks in Miramar,” he explained. Mia found that to be the norm – not saying why someone was on base, but rather, how long they’d be there.

“Just in time for summer,” Bobbi winked.

“Mia, what’s your story?” He asked, dropping his sunglasses down onto the collar of his vintage band tee. A cold beer appeared in front of him on the table.

“Mia is a lawyer, sexy, single, and working for Lt. Gen. Bozek,” Tina said, making Mia laugh. “Her little brother is over there, seeing how much Mezcal the new recruit class can take.” She tilted her chin back.

“Are we husband hunting?” Rooster asked? His eyes flicking over the cleavage her sweet little floral dress was showing off and down to the ring on her left hand. “That’s not going to help.”

“One, I am not husband hunting!” She laughed. “This is my dad’s ring.” She explained, “I mean, sized down about six times, but it just makes me happy.” She shrugged.

“I’ll drink to that,” Rooster said, tapping her glass with his.

“What are we drinking to? My accomplishments?” Bobbi knew it was a matter of time before Hangman showed up.

“Hangy, you big shit.” Rooster laughed, giving his former teammate a big hug. “Have you met Mia?” He asked, that damn mustache twitching just enough to tip off Jake.

“We’re keenly acquainted,” Jake said, his hand finding a resting spot on the back of her chair. Rooster’s grin became even more salacious.

Jake Seresin was not the type to pick up on-base girls at a bar.

Mia clearly was not an on-base-at-a-bar type of girl, but rather, just Jake’s type that wandered right into his snare.

How fortunate for Jake, and how fun for Rooster – and how much more fun for Tina and Bobbi that were watching it all unfold in front of them.

Though Rooster and Hangman were friendly now, they had a sordid past, and it still rang off-key to see them be chummy with one another even now.

“Y’know, Mia, Rooster also drives a classic car,” Bobbi said, raising a brow as she took a drink.

“Also?” Rooster asked, intrigued. “What’re you steering, Mia?”

“It’s a ’73 Jag XKE,” Jake answered, “right Mia?”

“That’s right, Lieutenant Commander,” she nodded. “Convertible.”

Rooster whistled low, “think you could take me for a joy ride sometime?” He prompted. Jake could feel his pulse tick in his neck.

“Depends, what ya go?” She asked.

“First gen blue Bronco,” he replied. “My dad’s back in the day,” he elaborated.

“Hey Roost, where’s my husband?” Tina asked.

“He was just wrapping up when I left, can’t imagine he’d be too far behind now.” Rooster explained.

“We were just talking about how Mia’s husband hunting,” Tina chimed in. She had been watching Jake observe Mia for the last five minutes.

“I’m not husband hunting,” Mia insisted, rolling her eyes, though the smile stretched across her face betrayed her expression.

“Baby, we don’t even have to husband hunt,” Tina insisted. “We can hunt just for a night, like true lionesses.” Mia burst into giggles with a shake of her head.

Rooster watched as the exchange went on between the two women, his eyes darting over to Jake, whose hand tightened on the back of her chair.

“Mia, I’m just saying, if you don’t use it, it closes up,” Tina said. “Hand to God.”

“What’s that? I think I hear my brother calling for me.” Mia laughed.

“That’s right, baby girl, you go dive into that man pool,” Tina cheered as the petite blond hopped down from her seat and grabbed her cocktail before heading off to check on Jack.

“Tina,” Jake hissed, sending the woman into a spurt of laughter.

“Calm down, Hangman,” Bobbi laughed, “she’s not going to take any of them home.”

“Mia!” Jack cheered, causing the ten men around him to parrot his excited call.

“Hi Jack Jack, how are we doing over here?”

“Mimi, these are my new friends,” He said, gesturing to the group. “Fellas – and Bridger – this is my sister, Mia.” He introduced.

“Pleasure,” she smiled with a shy wave.

“Mia works on base as a lawyer because she’s smart as fuck,” Jack explained.

“Mia, you play pool?” A man in glasses, blue pants and a coordinating t-shirt asked, “Rewind” stitched over his heart.

“Oh, absolutely not,” Jack laughed, caging his sister in his arms. Rewind simply laughed, eyeing up the shorter of the two Thomas siblings before prowling around the other side of the table.

“Mia really seems more like a darts person to me,” Jake said, arriving alongside the table. Jack noticed how the pilots straightened up just a bit in the Lieutenant Commander’s presence. “Jack,” he greeted with a tilt of his head and a peace offering of another drink.

“Jake,” Jack said, gladly accepting the beer. “And you’re right,” He said, tilting his head back toward the set of dartboards hanging on the far wall. “Mia’s a ringer.”

“I am not,” Mia said assuredly, looking over at Jake.

“She lies,” Jack said simply. “She was on our high school archery team.” Jake’s brows raised just enough to show his keen interest.

“Show me what you got, Thomas.” He insisted, ushering her over to the board.

“Wait, Mimi, some of the guys are going over to a house off base,” Jack said quietly. “Would you mind if I go? They wanna play COD.” Mia looked a little worried.

“Who’s driving there?” She asked.

“I am!” Bridger spoke up, the lone woman in the group. “I’ve not been drinking, Ma’am.” She insisted.

“Jack you don’t know these guys,” Mia said quietly.

“He’s safe, Mia,” Jake insisted. “They’re good kids, and Bridger is responsible. They wouldn’t let a single thing happen to Jack, would they?” He asked, raising his volume and looking around at the group.

“Couldn’t be safer than with a bunch of pilots!” She heard called back.

“Okay, but please text me if plans change,” Mia’s worry placated by Jake’s words. “We leave for Del Mar at 11 sharp tomorrow morning,” she reminded.

“I’ll be home by 10,” he pressed a kiss to her temple before taking off with the group – another batch of pilots happily filling in their spots.

“If something happens to him, I’m holding you personally responsible, Lieutenant Commander.” She gave Jake a pointed look, taking up her first red dart in her hand, and without setting down her cocktail, hit inner circle. Jake gulped softly. Their kids would be beautiful and athletic.

I’ll let you hold me regardless.

“Y’know, Jake rolls off the tongue a little easier.” He goaded, picking up his own green dart and landing it just to the right of Mia’s.

“Mm, you don’t really strike me as a Jake,” she said, using his own words against him.

“And what do I strike you as?” He asked, watching as her dart sailed through the air with precision.

“A Lieutenant Commander.” She replied, smirking.

“She’s got jokes,” he smiled back, throwing his next dart. “I bet it’s nice having your brother in town.”

“It’s amazing,” she smiled, taking a drink of her cocktail. “He’s my best friend. Do you have siblings?”

“I have a sister back in Austin,” he replied, “She’s there with my nieces.”

“Sweet,” she smiled, checking her phone to see that Jack was live-texting her his trip to negate her worry. There was clearly nowhere for her to keep her phone on her person in that dress. A wispy wonder that fell to the top of her thighs and showed off her breasts that he calculated would the perfect handful in his palms. He wondered if her nipples were the same pouty pink as her lips. “Do you get to see them much?”

“Usually four or five times a year – goddamn Mia.” He laughed as she hit dead bullseye. He caught the tail end of a cocky little smirk from her and it set his skin on fire.

“Hangman’s getting schooled,” A recruit called out behind them. He resisted the urge to raise his middle finger.

“That’s the third person I’ve heard call you Hangman.” Mia commented, sliding her phone on a nearby tabletop.

“Callsign,” he shrugged simply.

“And what’s the story behind it?” She had picked up a thing or two from Lt. Gen. Bozek.

“Wish I could tell you it’s some raucous story, but it’s from another lifetime ago.” He replied.

“Back when you were one of them?” She asked, tilting her head back toward the mixed group of service khakis and blue checks.

“Back when I was one of them,” he nodded, a shy smile on his mouth – a new look for him.

“Back when you were out hunting for the night,” she laughed, tilting her head toward a young pilot who was doing his best to lay down some game on a local girl over by the jukebox.

“Relentless,” Jake said with a shake of his head. A fresh French 75 appeared at her side. Mia looked around until her eyes landed on Rooster, who toasted her from back at the table with Bobbi and Tina. Jake tracked, none too pleased. Rooster sent him a wink as well. That fucker.

“If I have one more, I’m not going to be able to drive home,” she said, taking a sip of the drink nonetheless. There was just something about a bright, lemony cocktail.

“One of us will make sure you get there safely,” Jake reassured.

“Are all of these beers in your meal plan?” She asked, recalling his meal-prep-101 grocery cart.

“Why, you think I’m falling out of shape?” He asked, allowing her to trail her eyes down his obviously well-kept body. His white shirt strained just so across his chest and biceps and trailed down to the blue slacks that were held up by the size of his thighs and a brown leather belt.

“No, I think you’ll be okay,” Mia said airily. “I think I’ll go… check on Bobbi.” She turned to walk away from the high-top.

“You’ve got one more throw,” Jake said. Mia turned, picking up the lone red dart, once again, hitting inner circle without breaking stride. Jake had to laugh. She was something else. But he did notice the way her eyes lingered on his arms.

He was making headway.

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fic #jake is a refined cowboy #jake seresin fan fic #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fic #top gun maverick fan fic #jake seresin is a simp

[tarisilmarwen]

Rebels Rewatch: "Wolves And A Door"/"A World Between Worlds"

Things get Force Weird as we approach the final stretch.

Live reaction version.

Right so I'm probably going to be cannibalizing some of my "Ezra Bridger as a thematic Chosen One in Star Wars Rebels and the messianic imagery of “A World Between Worlds”" essay because even though I still want to make that its own separate post someday, there's going to be things about these two episodes that I have to bring up and observations that will crossover with that essay when and if that finally gets finished.

I'm going to try to be very sparing with the caps too, because I've got two whole episodes to cover and ghksajhfkjahkjh there's way too much pretty to show off, I honestly don't know how I'm gonna do it guys.

I love that after the somber musical fog they put us through last episode they start us off with bouncy plinky pizzicato strings and Loth-cat cuteness. They were like, "Hey, we know things have been heavy lately and they're gonna be again, but in the meantime have kitties sitting on top of doggos and feel for a moment reassured that there is still goodness in the world."

Zeb's skepticism re. the wolves is a little silly given that they've already shown that they're intelligent sentient creatures.

Ezra's already showing signs of the serenity and dignity he takes on as de facto leader of the Lothal rebels. Hera actually kind of cedes that role to him, and Ryder has certainly already taken several steps back out of cynicism.

So it falls to Ezra to lead them, to plan out their attack strategies, to be their head.

He's matured so much I'm so proud of him.

The wolves are deeply connected to the Force, and to Lothal. Ezra is too. In a way, he's of their kind. And after accepting his task from them last episode they consider him officially part of the pack it seems, because they readily come to his call.

Ezra's unique ability to connect, once again an invaluable asset.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: The tufts of grass that wobble as the wolves walk through them.

Ezra's favor with the wolves extends to the others, so they are all able to climb on board and hitch a Force-assisted ride back to the northern hemisphere where the Temple is.

Love this sequence. The pounding drums. The sound design. The slow phasing of the wolves into the ground and disappearing soundlessly into it, with just a whisper of wind in their wake.

I can't get over how the Loth-wolf visions keep going back to Kanan's "You want a ride?". Filoni has mentioned that Ezra's tuned into the "echoes" that are particularly relevant to him while inside the WBW and I guess the same must apply to the hyperspace wolves tunnels. It's fascinating, we've always taken hyperspace for granted but since it's part of the galaxy, it has to be part of the Force as well, so it makes perfect sense in a way that ancient Force guardians like the Loth-wolves, or creatures just intimately connected with the Force like the purrgil, can make their own hyperspace tunnels naturally, in order to pass through time and space.

"It surrounds us, it penetrates us, it binds the galaxy together."

Something I really love about the whole concept of the World Between Worlds is the idea that we're getting a rare glimpse at the inner structure of the Force itself, the tendons and strings connecting it together.

Anyway, sob with me about how the echoes end with Ezra's "There's just you and me." from "Siege of Lothal". It was just them, two flickering twin moons against the blackest night, holding back the darkness until sunrise.

And now it's just Ezra alone.

What I wouldn't give to know what they're talking about.

Frick his whole bearing is different. He's quieter, more somber. We blinked and he grew up, aged five years in a night.

We reach the Temple and it's as bad as we've feared, the Empire has set up all around it and the area bristles with lights and equipment. They've burrowed down to the foundations of the Temple, trying to pull up its secrets by the root, and they've wholecloth removed the familiar doors from it, leaving a gaping surface level hole.

The Temple itself has sealed itself tight, barring entry to the interlopers, and I LOVE the thematic fairy tale underpinnings of this.

There's a line in The Magician's Nephew, one of the Chronicles of Narnia and another strong influence on the show's writing and concepts, that goes like: "Come in by the gold gates or not at all, Take of my fruit for others or forbear, For those who steal or those who climb my wall, Shall find their heart’s desire and find despair."

This is another overarching myth archetype: Only The Worthy May Pass.

If your heart is true, and you ask permission, show the Threshold Guardian respect, walk humbly and seek the boon for others, it will be granted to you freely. But if you're selfish, if you lie and cheat and steal and trick your way in, brute force what you want and are arrogant, demanding the prize, you will receive your just reward. And you won't like it.

Think of the last Indiana Jones movie. Indiana Jones is the one that takes all the risk, makes the leap of faith to save his father, and is granted permission to use the Grail's healing powers. The Nazi-aligned academic rival who barged in with tanks and guns and wants to live forever using the Grail's powers, however?

Indiana Jones vibes are aaaaaaaallll over these whole two episodes by the way. The whole general feel of an archaeological adventure with an unexpected encounter with the divine, it's great.

I still think it's immensely clever that they used the recording of Thrawn to distract the Scout Troopers. Still hilariously convenient that one of them is female.

Even the music gets Indiana Jones-esque when Ezra and Sabine make it down into the hollow.

Hi Hydan!

I love him. He's such a good oneshot villain. Cordial and affably polite and yet my skin crawls whenever he threatens either Sabine or Ezra. He's another Thrawn archetype/parallel, he studies the mysteries of the Force in the hopes of understanding them, not for himself, but to grow the power of his Emperor. He plunders the wealth of the Lothal Temple not out of respect for it, but to dissect it for knowledge and power.

An absolutely seamless Mind Trick from Ezra here. So proud of him.

The matching "Oh crap!" expressions on their faces when they realize that's Emperor Freaking Palpatine on the other end of the line.

The Mortis arc is actually one of the few TCW arcs I watched in full. Sue me I love me some Force Weirdness. So it was quite a delight to see the Mortis gods returning as artistic archetypal representations of the aspects of the Force. The Light, the Dark, the Unifying/Cosmic Balance. (Even the Living Force is represented in the mural by the Loth-wolves.) Since we're exploring the very inner scaffolding of the Force itself these episodes, it made perfect sense to me to bring them back, and tie them into how the Lothal Temple operates.

Unsurprisingly the Emperor's leitmotif makes an appearance here. Palpatine already has extraordinary clairvoyent powers but they've become confused after Kanan's sacrifice. Kanan has altered the fate of Lothal somehow, and even Palpatine can't figure out why.

(Pssst, it's because the Force is actually working against you buddy, it's trying to restore proper balance.)

This moment was very mean and hurted in all the right ways.

"They'll be fine." "I used to always believe that." This hits right in the parental bone, ouch.

Harps and female vocals once again signifying the arcane mysteries of the Force.

And this is gorgeous.

Ezra and Sabine begin to puzzle out the meaning behind the mural, Ezra only able to identify the Loth-wolves and the green convor that liked to follow Ahsoka around. (We've still not been given an explanation for that one yet. The prevailing theory is that it's what left of the Daughter, acting as a spirit guide/guardian for Ahsoka.)

The golden pathways correspond to the paths and doorways inside the World Between Worlds and when they're aligned on the mural, the wolves awaken to form the portal that grants access. Only one who can channel the Light Side is able to unlock the mechanism to align the pathways, via connecting to the Daughter part of the mural.

This is one of the reasons why Palpatine needed to cheat to get inside. The other reason is that, per word of Filoni, the World Between Worlds is actually a bit choosy about who it lets inside.

Again, Only The Worthy May Pass. Ezra is connected to the Force and to Lothal, a native son of the planet, a Jedi, and he has the wolves' favor, so he is granted access.

Like Maul back on Malachor, Palpatine cannot open the door on his own.

Sabine does a pretty good job bluffing the Troopers that come to investigate her presence by the mural, buying Ezra enough time to connect to the Daughter and open the portal.

Ezra remembering Kanan's last words to him, the reminder to listen.

Rebels animation is gorgeous, I will hear no slander.

And this technique they developed to animate 2D images on top of a 3D CGI environmental surface was probably the same technology they used for mini Maui in Moana. Put to absolutely beautiful use, there's zero weird blending or edging at all, it just looks fully integrated and a natural part of the image.

Now, obviously the mural wolves need a clear space in order to form the portal but I also think they were drawing Ezra far enough away from the Stormtroopers that they wouldn't get to him in time. So that they couldn't stop him.

I'm actually reminded of a scene in Avatar: The Last Airbender (which Filoni also worked on), where Aang manages to slip in last minute through the giant door into the inner shrine that could only be opened by several Fire Sages working in tandem, and the way Roku--the previous Avatar before Aang, and a Firebender himself--seals the door behind Aang, so that even the Sages can't open the door anymore.

Ezra has a meeting with the Divine, and the Empire is not invited.

The score going full blast Indiana Jones mysticism, love it.

Like Thrawn, Hydan clocks Sabine as someone who doesn't belong there immediately, recognizing her from the incident before. The dig site is put on full alert and Troopers close in on Ezra, who's paralyzed for a moment, nervous to enter the portal.

Sabine yells for him to go.

And with determination and purpose, he does.

And the portal seals behind him.

Sabine's worry and fear. <3 Even though she told him to go, watching him literally disappear into a wall has to be frightening.

AND NOW FOR THE EXTRA FORCE WEIRD PART. :D

The World Between Worlds is a place where time and space have no meaning, because all time is present at once. Past, present, and future is all happening simultaneously inside the starvoid, which pulses with the whispers of those who have come before, and those who are yet to come. It's a liminal space, a space of transition, an "in-between" that is neither here nor there. @seleneisrising has an excellent series of posts comparing it to the Wood Between The Worlds, again from The Magician's Nephew, a seemingly endless wood with countless pools that represent different worlds one can enter and exit, if one has the proper travel implements (green and gold rings, in this case).

It is not time travel. Filoni and other writers make it very clear that you cannot, SHOULD NOT, actually use it for that purpose, because if you take something out of its proper time and space, things could go very very badly, and you could create a paradox that destroys time.

Ezra doesn't know this when he winds up pulling Ahsoka out of Malachor, but Ahsoka suspects--since she's been in this kind of Force Weird situation before--so that why she's immediately all, "Okay you have to put me exactly back where you found me." and declines to come with Ezra out his portal.

And that's also why Ezra can't save Kanan.

More on that later.

Our first series of echoes is about the Force, in general, and specific quotes apply to Ezra in particular, for the character journey he's going to complete inside this liminal space.

"Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose." "What you need you already have. Unfortunately, you seem to be letting it all go." "I won't let him lose his way. Not like I did."

The World Between Worlds is already warning him of the temptation that Palpatine will offer, first with Kanan, and then with his parents. Palpatine will dangle the idea of undoing his loss, reversing and cheating death, the same thing he offered Anakin, if he would only just lend Palpatine a little of his power, just a small favor, just open this door for me good lad, don't you want this?

It's a trap. A trick. A lie. There is no reversing death.

You cannot go back down into Hades.

The Force theme permeates this space, floating above our heads with the stars in the vast empty void. Obi-Wan pipes in, via voiceover, to explain what we're seeing, in essence, the very scaffolding and inner workings of the Force.

Meanwhile outside, the troopers are not gentle with Sabine. Hydan tries to make nice and she sasses him to hell and back, refusing to cooperate.

Sabine trying not to let her worry for Ezra show, when Hydan threatens that the Emperor will find him inside the World Between Worlds. <3

Vocal cameos from across the Star Wars canon as Ezra crosses the World Between Worlds. I know someone has identified all of them but I don't have the list at hand. Most of them aren't relevant to Ezra in any case.

Morai appears though, to help guide Ezra to the Malachor portal. I know it was suggested that Kanan helped orchestrate Ahsoka's rescue from beyond the grave, as some kind of "unfinished business" Kanan had yet to do before he fully pass on. Some people were confused why Kanan would want to do that, he was never particularly close to Ahsoka nor was he particularly as devastated by her apparent death. Not like Ezra.

I can accept that logic from the writers though, if it's Kanan trying to help Ezra finally assuage his guilt over Malachor, give him a chance to make things better. And give Ezra a Force Sensitive ally to help find him after everything is said and done.

Kanan knew he was going to die. Knew he couldn't be there for Ezra. So he arranged a way for there to be someone to look for and after Ezra after he was gone. He knew they would need Ahsoka's help.

My thoughts, anyway.

Ezra's quiet horror when the portal activates and shows him the tail end of the Malachor confrontation. :(

It is hilarious to think about how this must look to Vader and Ahsoka. On Vader's end he's swinging down and all of a sudden a hand comes out of a shimmering patch of air and just yoinks Ahsoka away into thin air and then the floor collapses under him and he just had to go back to Palpatine and explain all of that or else pretend that didn't happen, lol.

And then Ahsoka had to wake up in a weird place after fighting Vader and unpacking all of that My Master Is Evil trauma and then see an older Ezra in Stormtrooper armor, learn that Kanan was dead, help Ezra not break the universe, fight an apparition of the Emperor, and then run back to Malachor so she wouldn't break the universe either. Girl needs a damn nap after all that ha ha.

Sabine continuing to be super uncooperative with Hydan. He eventually loses patience and lets the Death Troopers smack her a bit. She's not badly hurt but the point comes across; she needs to play nice or else.

Ahsoka looks SO confused lol.

Vader echoes sound in the background, these ones attuned to Ahsoka, responding to the revelations she has just had about Vader's true identity. As well as an echo from the Daughter, when Ahsoka notices Morai.

(This resonates with what Filoni says about the World Between Worlds in a recent interview, that it attunes to whoever is currently inside, or the person inside only truly hears echoes that are relevant to them, the rest may as well be static and noise, incomprehensible.)

Ahsoka's the one who suggests Kanan's spirit is lingering, trying to guide and teach Ezra one last time from beyond the grave, through the manifestation of the Dume wolf, and yeah, it tracks. I kind of like the notion that Kanan clung to himself just long enough to make sure Ezra was okay before he let himself move on and dissipate into the ether.

Ezra latches onto the idea that Kanan meant for him to save Ahsoka, and then tracks that thought straight into "I can prevent Kanan's death too."

But it's not the same.

Ahsoka knows she has to go back through her portal and return to the time she left, sooner rather than later in order to prevent any kind of paradoxical damage to the timeline. But she can't leave the grieving Ezra in limbo and so she rushes after him to hold back his hand.

Once again, "You want a ride?" echoes, the moment Kanan first offered his hand and help to Ezra, which must be so intimately imprinted on him that it's what he always first hears.

"You can learn what it truly means to be a Jedi." And he's about to, Kanan, believe me.

Ezra's theme plays here. It doesn't complete, never making it to the second stanza. Ezra's not thinking straight. His words echo Anakin's, "I can stop people from dying!" He's too wrapped up in his grief. He's trying once again to reach for power that isn't his to grasp, in order to stop loss from happening to him.

He is attached.

Attachment in the Star Wars universe has a very specific connotation. It has never meant love, or relationships, friendships, other people, cherished places or things. It is all about one's own mindset when relating to those things. Jedi are supposed to love everyone, selflessly. But they are supposed to understand that nothing lasts forever. Things die, people move in and out of your life, the change happens and you can't stop it "Any more than you can stop the twin suns from setting." Shmi says. Children grow up and leave home. Being a Jedi, being balanced in the Force, means you accept the transitory nature of things and let go of your fear of loss.

Because fear leads to the Dark Side. Being afraid of loss, of being without the things important to you, makes you angry at what might try to take those things. Which makes you jealous, clingy. Greedy. Makes you grasp tighter. Makes you desperate. Makes you seek for the power to keep those things with you. And there the Dark Side is, calling to you, offering you that power. Promising to help you keep those things you want.

But it's a trap. The Dark Side will consume you. It will not help you save what you fear to lose, it will instead demand their sacrifice. The desire for power will overtake everything else, every other noble intention or motivation you had. What you intended to save you will no longer care about. The Dark Side will be all there is.

So you must let go of the things you fear to lose. Let go of that fear, and it will have no power over you. Accept the loss, and do not grasp for the power to break reality, to cheat the natural order, just to spare yourself the pain of not having that thing or person in your life.

Because you cannot go back down into Hades.

You cannot turn back time. You cannot undo death.

"You can't save your master," Ahsoka tells him, so so gently because she knows how hard this is. "And I can't save mine," she accepts.

And so Ezra looks at the portal, everything in him screaming in grief. And Ezra, who has abandonment issues and so much of his own worth and validation wrapped up in Kanan--"Kanan believes I can."--who thinks of Kanan as more a father than a teacher, who is still at heart a lost little boy who misses his parents... does one of the hardest and bravest things ever required of him.

He drops his hand, and turns his eyes, and lets go.

He faces the grief and loss head on, and accepts it. Doesn't let it master him.

And thwarts Palpatine one moment more.

Because the image of Kanan was not actually him. The Dark Side will never actually keep its promises. Or it will fulfill them in a way that makes it not matter. It all consuming, always hungry, never satisfied, and it will suck you dry.

The portal Ezra was tempted by leads straight to Palpatine. Who reveals himself like a cackling demon, shrouded and surrounded by blue flames.

Yikes.

Outside, Hera and Zeb are preparing to spring Sabine free of Hydan's "company", though not before she learns the way to seal the portal again.

The lovely dichotomy of "Sabine will know."/"He's on his way." is great BTW, they have so much faith and trust in each other.

Sabine's cheeky little, "Sorry about the mess." :)

I am fairly certain, though I can't find the post from Celebration that talked about it in overview, that Dave et all recycled several ideas from the planned Season 7 arcs for TCW into Rebels. This fight I'm sure was one of them, I remember something about fighting Palpatine in the basement of the Jedi Temple, where the nexus is.

Full male chorus for this moment, love it.

Palpatine won't give up so easily. He still needs to piggyback off Ezra's permission, because the Temple accepted Ezra and rejected him. If he cannot trick Ezra into being his anchor, he will simply attempt to latch onto him from the other side by force, through Sith sorcery.

YEAH NO THAT'S TERRIFYING.

Also fanficcers once again have let me down, I need way more Bad End AUs to this scene than just the one I wrote.

"When you get back, come and find me!" An obligation yet to be fulfilled. Hopefully the Ahsoka show will finish this out. *fingers crossed*

Ahsoka runs back off into the shot where her back was to the camera from "Twilight of the Apprentice" and Ezra escapes, to Palpatine's severe annoyance I'm sure. I would not want to be in the room when that happened, lemme just tell ya lol.

OH HEY HERE'S MY FAVORITE NO CONTEXT SIGNATURE SCENE. :D

There's so many things about this scene that I love. Sabine grabbing Ezra's arm to help him up. Zeb practically holding Ezra to him as they run, giving him cover from the blaster fire. Chopper's Big Damn Heroes moment as he drives a freaking drill (one he was eyeing earlier) into the crowd of Stormtroopers.

DEAN KINER'S EXCELLENT "THE TEMPLE COLLAPSES" MUSIC CUE WHICH IS OF COURSE MY FAVORITE OF THE WHOLE SOUNDTRACK.

Ezra looking immediately to Sabine to tell him which one to activate, because he trusts she's figured it out. Zeb helping lift him high enough to reach.

Ezra connecting to the Son, the score piping in with piano to signify the Force usage. Maybe Ezra is having to call upon the Dark Side, maybe he is just making a connection, but either way it's harder than it was with the Daughter. Takes more effort. He collapses immediately into Zeb's arms right after.

But look at Ezra’s expression:

The way his lips and eyes pinch, how his face tightens.  The minute tremble in his lip. It’s not anger or fear or passion he’s channeling here.

It’s grief.

Ezra falls unconscious into a Pietà pose (more on that in the messianic imagery post) and looks incredibly small here in Zeb's arms. This is such a soft moment and it's so sweet, I love it.

The mural turns crimson red and the Temple begins to seal and collapse. Removing itself from the physical plane of existence entirely, to deny Palpatine access.

Our heroes flee, Hydan perishes, the most gorgeous animation of the show splashes across the screen as the wolves return to their place, the Daughter and Son descend, and the Father claps his hands and sinks the Temple.

Ezra is barely conscious the whole time, a lot having been taken out of him. It's similar to how he collapsed in "Gathering Forces" and "Vision of Hope" and "Holocrons of Fate", too much Force energy exhausts him. As he fades out, Kanan's voice calls out from the white light.

"The Force will be with you, always."

By implication, "I'll be with you Ezra. I'm alive inside of you now."

And then all that's left is to say one last goodbye to Kanan, across the glasslike surface of the plain where the Temple once stood, into the rising light of dawn and the fading footsteps of the white Loth-wolf.

Kanan's theme plays us out over the credits.

These two episodes contextualize, and re-contextualize SO much about the overall story. Finally we know what Ezra was meant to do, what made him so special that the Force chose him, not as the Chosen One, but as a Chosen One, with a specific destiny and purpose that he needed to fulfill.

A child of Lothal, tested and found worthy by the wolves, who was already blessed by the Jedi Temple before. Favored by the Force to enter into its innermost sanctum to protect it from those who would desecrate it, twist it to their own purposes.

Ezra's narrative importance to the overall Star Wars saga becomes immensely clear. His character development is complete, and he now has the strength to stand against Palpatine's temptations, and the bravery to make the ultimate sacrifice for his planet and people. One whose results he won't even be able to see.

Just like Kanan did. Kanan's last lesson--To love unselfishly and give of yourself, even if means losing what you hold dear, simply because it is right and you are needed--will be Ezra's final act as well. And it took being asked to let go and accept Kanan's death for him to understand.

These episodes are beautiful in theme and message. The World Between Worlds is a fascinating perfect addition to Star Wars lore. The character work is fantastic and I can even pardon the clear favoritism in managing to bring Ahsoka back. I love these episodes so so much, they're my absolute favorites of the whole show.

We're almost done my loves, let's watch Ezra's character development pay off next time. :)

#star wars #star wars rebels #ezra bridger #sabezra #kanan x hera #liveblog #rebels rewatch #meta rambling #Rebels Rambles #this is a pro jedi blog #space dad and his precious pumpkin child

[philtstone]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

thank you so much to the lovely @tllgrrl for tagging me! without further ado ...

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

as of this one, 197! i have been on these fanfic streets for roughly ten years, it all tends to accumulate

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,056,672 ..... do with that what u will

3. What fandoms do you write for?

yall, this is a prolonged list. i dont think theres been a source material ive written for once that i dont randomly write for again every so often. i have 1-2 big phases per year, usually. just go look at my ao3 dashboard sdlkfjldskf

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

to the surprise of absolutely no one, all five are from the age old skywalker happy trash family au. thanks for being so consistent star wars fandom, ur all real ones <3 but also my writing has improved so much since then that occasionally the hingeless urge to go back and re-write every fic in that verse is real

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

i try my best to! every so often life gets in the way, but especially in the last few years, i really try to engage with comments as much as i can. ive also been lucky enough to write in pretty small fandoms for the last couple years (ironically, given ive been in my second m*rvel era) so replying to comments has been a lot more intimate and friendly anyway

6. What is a fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

i was going to say "i dont know" because for the most part -- and especially my more recent fics -- everything ends up pretty consistently bittersweet. then i remembered vintage phil: "we want to live by each other's happiness", or the b99 captain america au

7. What’s a fic you've written with the happiest ending?

i tend to very consistently write things with shades of happy and sad. that said, some of my favourite purely "happy ending" fics include:

"easy, easy (my man and me)"

"i found a dream"

"hark the bluebells"

"i believe in you and in our hearts"

8. Do you get hate on fics?

eh, not really. i dont generally write chapter fic with controversial enough plot points and the unresolved nature of updating chapters to generate true "hate". i have gotten some really bizarre comments where one has to wonder what was going through the commenter's head when typing it all out, but most of those are not things that stick.

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

not me feeling emotional abt my ao3 tenure .... 15 yr old me would have such a different answer ...

i write often and (i hope) as authentically as possible about lived-in romantic relationships, and as ive gotten older it has felt more and more organic to include scenes in and around sexual intimacy where appropriate. i dont think most people would classify that as "smut", though.

10. Do you write crossovers?

if i am writing an au, it is a true au, with the single and sole exception of the force sensitive claire au, which is, on a technicality, a crossover

it also is, on much less of a technicality, unfinished ...

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of and i certainly hope not!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

not to my memory

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

the closest ive ever come to this was, actually, writing the b99 cap au with maya Back In The Day. our tumblr messages used to just be draft upon draft of scenes evolving in real time. but never formally. friends are an integral part of the fic writing process tho

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

the world should know i am an anne-gil truther. blueprint if there ever was one

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

sadly, probably "happiness, like those palaces in fairy tales"; my beloved small time constance-centered parks-flavoured musketeers au .... my writing style has just changed so much since, and it was such a huge undertaking. i still have half of the unpublished anne/aramis flashback chapter saved in my google docs though.

16. What are your writing strengths.

ive been told im good at prose! and writing from childrens' pov, which i am fond of doing, though in a tragic turn of events i havent done much of it recently

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

as i see it, sometimes i dont know when less is needed for a fic to be more. often, this comes from a lack of clarity on my end re: what the fic is trying to be -- OR when im trying to write about something i dont really know. at the end of the day, though, this problem recurs because fanfic is supposed to be fun, so something being a bit too messy and a bit too long is not a huge deal to me. hopefully its also not a huge deal to my readers!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic.

u can pry doing this from my cold dead hands. & are also always free to criticize my phrasing and translations, lol, except for that one time i made bucky barnes speak farsi, which is a language i actually know

19. First fandom you wrote for?

star trek aos, baybeeeee

20. Favorite fic you’ve written.

IMPOSSIBLE QUESTION. i love many of my children equally!

here are some all-timers from those fics which i have not mentioned yet:

hopeful./summertime

and there's a keepsake my mother gave me

then she'll be a true love of mine

just to hear the nightbird singin'

my daddy was a prominent frogman

**

thank u so much for the tag my friend! i had heaps of fun. tagging @firstelevens, @sesamestreep, @sennenrose and @flyinghome-againstthewind as well as anyone else interested!

#my writing #these are too many fandoms to tag lol

[gorgagne-viperidae]

#1 ENVOY

Reports, in your humble opinion, are a necessity to any field mission, a heads-up, a reassurance to the powers that be that all is well on the front, all is fine and dandy beyond the familiar bastions of civilization even when it isn’t. All may not actually be well north of the Coerthan mountain passes, but the finer details aren’t for the Lominsan thalassocracy to worry over; that’s your job, Erdenechimeg. To assess and report as necessary, by whatever means were available in the least conspicuous manner possible.

So it’s a real fucking pity indeed that [most of] your linkpearls are gone, left behind in the safety of a Maelstrom lockbox. Your contacts, distant. Your means, limited. Necessary sacrifices are made every day, but it leaves you in a particular position with a saying to match; something-something-Lominsan-boys-make-do. So you do. You make do as best as you can.

Today, your best is a recalcitrant post moogle. Its hat sits askew on its fuzzy head, fur groomed up to make a sleek curl just below the cap’s crooked brim. A mail bag three times the size of its bearer dangles casually off an improbable shoulder. No matter how you look at it, it’s a delinquent through and through. It makes your teeth ache to look at.

“Can you be discreet?” You ask it again with a patience worthy of sainthood. “It is important that you be so.”

If it had brows, the moogle’s would certainly be crooking up right now as it leans in, a tiny paw up by its tiny snout in a conspiratorial manner. “What’s it to you, kupo? You got nefarious doings going on? Secrets to hide?” A theatrical gasp, its sneer (you assume it’s a sneer) broadening in furry strokes. “Trying to get innocent folks caught up in your business, kupo?”

The moogle seems to have kenned that there’s something unorthodox about your letter-sending, something odd about your request in this age of tomestones and linkpearls, but unable to put a paw on it, it merely ruffles itself up, puffing big like a real rough customer oughtta. Its voice promptly drops. “Double, or I’m callin’ the Temple Kni-“

You are not a rich man, Erdenechimeg. Your stipend for this moon is already mostly spent, funneled diligently into the cost of a room and other living necessities this far out in the hinterlands. Your gilpurse sits woefully light in your pocket, a delicate but constant reminder that you are indeed dependent on your own abilities for time being. You don’t recall moogles requiring pay to do their jobs, but you also haven’t had to rely on the furry postal system for some turns now, so for all you know they could have unionized in the time it’s taken you to remember they exist.

Luckily for you, you were taught how to handle those uppity union-types by only the best.

Busy rubbing its little paws together in an unmistakable bid for cold hard gil, you catch this envoy of moogle-powered post by surprise mid-threat when you grab it by the pom. “-iGHYIII! N-n-n-now now!” It squeaks. Harried and fraught, the delinquent veneer peels off the little creature like tissue as its hat topples off its head and catches on the lip of its mail bag. Its neat curl of hair seems to fray in sympathy. Tiny paws wave and scramble, unable to reach high enough to even hope of stopping you from your potential pom crimes. “Let’s b-b-b-be-he-he-hee re-he-hEASONABLE, ku-hu-PO!”

The pom itself sits like a soft little fruit in your palm, easily engulfed when you close your fingers over it, and the noise this gentle squeeze earns you could power a city by force of decibel alone. All evidence of the tough customer is gone, shredded with the moogle’s dignity as it squeals for mercy in your [gentle] iron grip.

Feeling better about the transaction now, you delicately haul the trembling peapod of a creature up to your face, where it may catch every angle of your toothy smile as you say, “The good Temple Knights do not need to be bothered, I think.” The moogle trembles all the harder when your tone turns pleasant and reassuring. “Now, perhaps, now we can reasonably discuss postage prices, just you and I.”

“Kupooo…”

#erdenechimeg kha #ffxivwrite2023

[frozenwolftemplar]

🌈for the ask game?

Lol, every partially-finished thing still languishing in my drafts 😅

Seriously though, looking at the fics I've posted, that one's a little tricky to answer. The first one that comes to mind is my Carmen Sandiego fic '3 A.M.,' where I had to fight tooth and nail for pretty much every word, but I literally wrote that in the endnote for the final chapter, so everyone knows it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Thinking harder about it, two more come to mind. First, 'Memorable.' (the one with Cass and the lighthouse). I don't often write multi-chaps, so pacing and plotting and just writing something of that length is something I find difficult on a good day. The fact that most of that fic was written through a pretty bad case of post-covid brain fog and fatigue, i.e. a series of not good days, made it all the harder.

The second one would be Koll Island: Insanity. That fic is based on an AU PocketProtector created (I highly recommend any and all her 'Tangled' fics, especially 'Decay'), where the Moonstone drives Cass insane and her and Cap live on a tropical island now (there's more to it than that, but that's the gist). On top of wanting to make sure it honored Pocket's vision for the AU, the story I wound up telling dealt with some pretty heavy themes of Cap coming to terms with his and Cass's new situation and accepting that new normal. I knew where Cap needed to go, mentally, and wanted to make sure I conveyed it in a way that really communicated the change he goes through; it wound up being harder than I anticipated (really happy with the result, though!).

For some more isolated themes or scenes I struggled with:

-the opening scene of 'Once Upon a December;' I was so anxious for that fic to live up to the idea in my head that I gave myself writer paralysis and re-wrote it three or four times.

-Cass's worries about her future that make up the second half of 'Burned but not Broken.' I had (and still have) so many thoughts and feelings about Cass's Burned Arm, organizing them all into something coherent while still making sure the fic clipped along at a nice pace was quite the challenge.

-Chapter 13 of 'The First Night.' It just would not come together for reasons that I still can't figure out.

Thanks so much for the ask! This was fun!

#tangled the series #cassandra #fanfic #tts fanfic #in which i ramble #writing

[pillsarchive]

A few random head cannons I have for Edward Nashton <<33

His favorite book is house of leaves you cannot change my mind - its filled with mysteries and he loves that he can re-read it and find more little puzzles to solve every time.

He watches documentaries like a crazy man. He has a lot of unhealthy tendencies and behaviors, one of them is wallowing. Watching documentaries that make him sad or angry gives him an almost perverse sense of pleasure - its confirmation. Yes, the world is as terrible as you think it is. If he's not using them as a depressant he's watching them to learn. Understanding more about niche topics helps him write better riddles.

He's a punk. The music was one of the things that got him through his time at the orphanage, even as an adult one of the only times he feels sort of good is when he's at shows. Thrashing around and taking out his aggression via moshing. He's never felt the need to dress loud (probably due to self confidence issues, I have a feeling once he breaks out of arkham and he has no reason to hide his identity anymore he'll come into his own and put himself together better) but he does admire people who are alternative in some way a whole lot.

He has graphomania (an impulsive desire to write or draw). It started as a nervous habit as a child, writing down riddles or thoughts or bible quotes to get anxiety out, then it spiraled into writing anything - one word over and over again, nonsense, it doesn't even have to be legible.

He has always wanted to go back to college and get more degrees. He has a bachelors in accounting of course, but he wants so many more. He loves learning, he is sort of a humanitarian at heart (even though his rage stifles that sometimes - revenge is a hard thing for him not to want) so he greatly enjoys the atmosphere of college campuses too. When he went, even though he was still mostly shunned for being neurotic and strange, people were nicer to him than normal. In the classroom he felt at home - he's sort of a genius and other students had a hard time keeping up with him. His professors pushed him to pursue a more advanced degree but he couldn't afford it (and the arkham programs for getting the cash he needed were lacking, to say the least).

He's trans and on the spectrum.

He's a true crime nerd. He likes to read books on it more than watch podcasts or docs - he finds that reading about cases is more informative and less exploitative (as much as he maintains you should care about the victims more than the killers, it is kind of just talk. He has a huge fixation with murder. ) This mf is an encyclopedia when it comes to the zodiac killer - has he spent months trying to solve the ciphers? Yes.

GRAVITY FALLS GUYS. He loves - LOVES gravity falls. He is a children's cartoons enjoyer.

He burned down the orphanage.

He's a cryptid mystery girly. He loves ghost hunting tv shows and he's super into random mystery junk. He has solved kryptos. He does brag about this accomplishment to his fans. He does reveal what it means to spite the CIA.

Collects something weird and small like buttons or bottle caps or stamps.

Bilingual! He can speak the King's and latin.

Loves rats. In the orphanage they were scary, they stole stockpiled food which could mean starvation, they chewed on you and gave some kids infections, they were horrible. Now that he's out and living in his own place he finds a lot of catharsis in taming them and befriending them.

In my universe he was in a mook adjacent band that broke up because he couldn't work well with the other bandmates.

He did NOT FLOOD THE CITY. I feel like in the movie this was completely off the wall, imu he doesnt ever make a plan to flood the whole city. What he does imu for the finale is a surprise >:].

#edward nashton #the riddler paul dano #the batman #dano riddler #piddler? #diddler? #pedward dashton? #the batman 2022 #edward nygma #the riddler x reader #the riddler headcanons #edward nashton headcanon #my universe #not main universe

[khonshuscondemned]

ksjdndbhsjshdhs i hope u don’t mind that im answering this on my mk blog instead but @tiptapricot you . you got my mind spinning . and pardon my brevity here- but during that little period of time tip? i think... marc fell in love with layla all over again. i hope to maybe go into more of a story/scene rewrite of this but for now- for now have some of my own soft marclayla hc’s yeah?

i think the moment she popped into his vision with that smile that could freeze time and melt the fuckin ice caps sipping her lil drink, he was done for.  He knew it was coming, knew it from the moment he saw her wandering Steven’s flat, her curls ever as wild and unruly as the heart that beat so fiercely in her chest, when she looked at Not-Gus and through him he knew that there was never any hope for him.  He loved her all the way, entirely.  In the way that suddenly had him . wishing he knew stupid shit like poetry. the way all she had to do was look at him and he felt.. whole. better. 

so after they met up in cairo, i think Marc was re-learning how to breathe with her so close to him- she who could be so free with her touch and her light and her smile- he’d seen it before, had known the intricate steps of they way Layla El Faouly lived and breathed and moved and existed for just enough time for him to never forget it, he cherished her so deeply.  [i think marc strikes me as the sort of person who recognises how good someone is because he’s . seen some of the worst of the worst. and when he comes across a soul that shines as bright as Layla’s?? well, i think he works to memorise everything he can, to keep close to his heart forever, because he knows - he knows there will be a time where he will be without it .]

relearning how to coexist is like ice cold condensation on the outside of a glass on a sunny day- refreshing and delightful and he keeps catching himself staring at her when she’s not looking, keeps getting distracted because he’ll be looking at her and trying to listen to the things she’s saying but the only thought in his brain is about how she’s beautiful and how her eyes shine like buried gold and sometimes when she turns around really quickly her hair will smack him in the face and he swears he recognises the sort of floral scent of her shampoo-

and i think steven comments on thoughts like that that slip through, chuckling and pointing out nice things marc could say when marc’s tongue feels a lil too thick to come up with words or  when she asks him easy questions like ‘left or right’ or if she’d been listening to a word she’s said. (’Nod and repeat the last thing she said, mate-’) (he’d been thinking about the way she’d put her hand on his shoulder to stand up earlier-) (if he took his shirt off and saw the mark of her handprint seared into his skin is it weird he thinks he might be grateful?-) (Marc. Focus.) 

i think if at any point the suggestion of splitting up happens marc is quick to find cause to work together, even if it’s kind of a reach or a stretch bc once he’s around her again it’s like. how could he have lived without? 

this got a bit longer than i meant but TLDR: i think marc spent the whole time just as starry-eyed for Layla as he was on the boat and i dont think he could bear to split up with her- and i think steven was constantly slapping his hand over his eyes bc how is it he feels more well-equipped to flirt with Marc’s wife than marc is..

#ihanswers #heheskjfhslkdjf sorry this got so long i really was just gonna write like. a little bit. omg #and im in a soft af mood so this might be like. tooth-rottingly fluffy sorry skdhfk #moon knight #marc spector #layla el faouly #marclayla my beloveds #ihdrabbles #moon knight meta #sort of? slkdfjw its just how in love marc is with layla which is totally canon soooo #beloveds ask

[faint-kitten]

So I was listening to someone talk about Idris Elba vs Keanu Reeves in Cyberpunk tonight...

by Faint_Kitten

Was watching LordBalvin on twitch play Cyberpunk 2077 and he made the comment that Idris Elba might be turning in the best performance in the game, and while saying he had no problem with Reeves performance me and a couple others in chat agreed there was something not quite right about Keanu being cast in Cyberpunk. I think I put my finger on it.

I say this as someone who recently discovered I was autistic, and struggle to convey what I'm feeling through my tone of voice: Keanu has kind of one speed, vocally.

Like emotionally his voice doesn't seem to convey a lot as an actor, he's kind of got this whispering surfer dude voice. Which is fine when he's confused as Neo and people are info dumping on him, and he just has to pose and do fight scenes. It's fine when he's trying to be mysterious or a badass know it all as Constantine, or when he's trying to be a badass as John Wick, but with the perf cap there's always a sort of robotic nature to performances in games because like…people can't touch things. And (a lot of people don't know this) studios go back in and RE-ANIMATE a stuff by hand ALL the time for cut scenes. Some actors aren't physically proportioned to their characters (things get slightly stylized all the time) and as a result Performance Capture in video games can be a little...stiff. Watch Christopher Judge at the begining of Ragnarock when he's in the cave: he's stroking the bag that held his wifes ashes andyou can kind oftell he's not touching anything. Maybe it's because he's not physically holding anything, maybe it's because they also got to big up his hands in after it's captured to "scale" him to Krato's proportions (kratos got big hands). So performances tend to get a bit disconnected? Robotic? There's this weird not QUITE uncanny valley thing where people have to be both stiff, and try to be expressive, and ontop of that, even when you Performance capture, Animators have to go BACK IN and adjust the performance, expresions are re-animated by hand. Which they don't do a lot of? You see Jeremy davis as Baulder, and he does odd flailing things with his arms and I can never tell if it's the actors trying to give the performance more life, or what but you'll see a lot of odd, finger spread arm waving as actors try to inject energy or movement into their performances that doesn't quite translate from the IRL performance to their animated counter part. So motion capture in games is...as I said. A bit stiff and janky sometimes. And again, motion capture isn't a one and done, animators and vfx people still go in and manipulate the character's face afterward to get the right expressions all the time.

People in cyberpunk, are well designed they're textured gorgeous, but their faces don't express any more emotion than Outerworlds or Fallout 4. I think, I feel like, actors who rely on their face struggle in voice acting. Especially if they're not LOOKING at anyone.

Look at Mark Hammil, bro gets up and throws his hands around playing the joker. So the energy comes out. Actors like Reeves and Peter Dinklage and Ryan Gosling sort of rely on subtle movements, and long quiet pauses like 90% of Ryan Gosling's acting is him not saying SHIT. Watch Drive, watch Blade Runner again, a lot of his acting is just STARING. Hiring him for a game would be a terrible idea.

When you combine this sort of robotic animation Cyberpunk has, with Keanu's natural voice... You don't quite get Peter dinklage, or Megan Fox, but it's still not quite right? I don't know if it was a good fit for him? A good avenue? It's so fucking close, but he doesn't quite pull it together? A smirk, or a cute face helps sell what Reeves does when he's acting in films, and he doesn't get that. So he has to be this sort of big bombastic dude he isn't? So it just seems like he doesn't fit. Maybe Reeves makes sense as Johnny in live action? But in game I don't think so.

By the same token, I don't know who the fuck you get to play this role. I can't see anyone but him in it now.

#cyberpunk 2077 #just thinking outloud

[hopetorun]

time after time for home by now! maybe say...3 years on? what are matthew and leon up to? how are brady and quinn doing?

i'm always so interested in hearing more about that fic and its universe (i'm the person doing the line by line re-read commentary :)) life's gotten very busy since i started but hopefully i'll be able to get back to it soon!)

okay well first of all you're an angel! i hope you get some free time back soon but i deeply understand that life gets busy sometimes ❤

anyway three years on from home by now! that's the beginning of the 2029-30 nhl season, which sounds extremely made up. the blues have been drifting somewhere in the muddy middle for a few years -- it's fun for my made-up story, but giving up tons of assets and cap space for a couple of guys in their late 20s/early 30s isn't actually ideal asset management in a hard cap league. but they've got too many good players to be horrible, and they're scraping into the playoffs most years. no cups, though, and both matthew and leon are looking at the remainders of their contracts and -- wondering. leon especially.

he'll be 36 when his current deal is up, and he does want to win. and he doesn't know if that's going to happen with the blues. it's not an easy conversation to have, though. does leon want to ask for a trade in his final year? before that? does he want a real shot at a cup more than he wants to keep waking up next to matthew every morning? there's no right answers.

matthew feels clingy and petulant about the idea of being left, but he also wants to win. he hasn't quite given up on the idea of winning in st louis with leon, the childhood fantasy of it all. they still both have four years left on their contracts! leon's aging pretty well, without too many injuries grinding him down yet, he could sign a short deal after!

so they're muddling through all that, and it's not the first thing they've fought about but it's definitely the fight that's lasted the longest. and matthew's touchy about it, because st louis is his in a way that it isn't for leon. but they're pretty good at this stuff by now. they're not gonna break up about it. leon would prefer it if keith had input on fewer parts of his life, but he's not going to begrudge matthew being close to his family, he's just going to gripe a little privately, and sometimes tell keith to fuck off. (keith takes this with aplomb, since it's not like matthew doesn't tell him to fuck off. the rest of the family thinks it's hilarious.)

in the intervening three years, quinn gets himself over to the eastern conference. pick your poison here, maybe he signs as a free agent, maybe he tells the canucks he won't sign an extension and gets traded. his whole family's there, brady's there, so on and so forth. not detroit -- he and brady have an agreement that neither of them will go to the places their families live unless it's both of them, because they're not going to start building that life unless it's together -- but maybe toronto or montreal? toronto would be funnier for me but montreal is closer to ottawa. either way, much closer to brady! they see each other so much more, even if it's sometimes stressful when they're in a playoff race or something. they've dodged any actual series against each other, at least. not that they couldn't handle it, but they'd both rather not.

something that was surprisingly hard for brady was getting to watch matthew just trip sideways into a stage of life that's basically on hold for brady until at least one of him and quinn retires. matthew fucked around and instead of finding out he got a hot boyfriend on his team that he gets to see every day and have over for family dinners and live with. he's happy for matthew, but the first time matthew complains about how hard they have to work to get space ... brady does not handle it as gracefully as would be ideal.

but overall everyone's doing pretty good, y'know? no one's winning it all~~ but they're aiming their lives in the ways they want. taryn has a new boyfriend that everyone would be very happy if she married. matthew and leon got a second dog, who is somehow even more teddy bear shaped. they mostly don't bother to pretend they aren't together, but at least half the guys on the team think they're just really close friends because sports are Like That. brady thinks it's hilarious when people ask him about it like, did you think your brother would end up such good friends with draisaitl after all that rivalry? and he's just like, friends, sure, yeah. love and hate are two sides of the same coin or whatever.

#chantal would really appreciate some grandkids someday tho #not that the dogs aren't cute #my fic #home by now #ask meme #fic by daisysusan

[sixstepsaway]

follow up to the two-part persona ask, I do also wonder if Izzy missed or misplaced the significance of “haven’t tried dying yet” because he mentally classifies every harebrained break from the maintenance of Blackbeard as ‘Edward’s Gonna Get Us All Killed If I Don’t Pay Clean This Up’, constantly being *in* a state of nearly dying- therefore when Ed actually *does* fuck up the date, izzy cant ‘fix’ it, having been reassured ed wasn’t too bad off by the oh plan to Kill Blackbeard and be Bonnet.

This got lost in my box somehow because I am positive I was awake 11hours ago but somehow I did not see this? Okay, whatever, at least it made it to me eventually lmao

I'm going to show you some caps from that scene because I promise you Izzy felt the full depth of "haven't tried dying yet" and just went into instant denial over it because of how painful the concept was to him.

(Tumblr: You can only have 10 images sorry. Me: I will dual you outside of a chick-fil-a, square up.)

I'd like to note here that Ed, much like the rest of us Mentally Ill Bitches, knows there's something wrong with him. "I shouldn't be bored. I'm fucking Blackbeard." He knows something is fucked up in that skull of his, but unfortunately it's 1717 and he's a man so he can't be diagnosed with hysteria and nothing else has really been deduced yet, so he's stuck just knowing his head's a mess and he can't fix it. Which, uh, is a really fucking depressing thought actually!

Izzy is also the one that gives Ed the idea of suicide, and that's... a whole new thing for Izzy to have to chew on, you know?

First time I went back through this scene, I focused on the fact Ed hones in on suicide as a notion to end his boredom, then meets Stede and, before Stede introduces him to the idea of retirement, he tells him he's 'been thinking of packing it all in', implying he's been genuinely considering yeeting himself into the abyss. Which was painful in itself.

But rewatching this scene with the singular purpose of honing in on Izzy and Con O'Neill's excellent micro expression acting even in the shots where he's turned away or blurry?

Agonizing, thank you.

This one especially. The furrow in his brow. The soft intensity in his eye. He's just heard his #1 person in the world say he's thinking dying could be the next big adventure because he can't stand living anymore and he inadvertently put the idea in his head. Babygirl is suffering.

God, this shot.

And then, coming back to my Cinematography Commentary™, this is another long shot from far away that makes you feel how isolated and alone Izzy feels. Delightful!

And then he writes it off and goes into denial because what else is he meant to do there? And goes to put the little ship away respectfully because Edward likes it lmao.

So: Missed or misplaced? No. Went into instant denial because it was too much for his already traumatized brain to bear? Absolutely. We talk a lot about how Izzy already has his own trauma and mental illness, whether it's from headcanons like @treesofgreen's re: sa, or just from a long life of piracy which has been established to be fucking terrible (beatings etc from Hornigold) and Izzy's clear class dynamics, but we don't really talk about his trauma and mental illness in relation to managing Ed's, and honestly? It's not a surprise that there's a step too far for Izzy's brain to handle and it's, "Edward wants to kill himself."

therefore when Ed actually *does* fuck up the date, izzy cant ‘fix’ it, having been reassured ed wasn’t too bad off by the oh plan to Kill Blackbeard and be Bonnet.

The plan to kill Stede comes after the lighthouse, so this is a slightly incorrect timeline. Izzy spends this entire episode in a state of "we're all fucking going to die" up until Ed does his flouncy little, "Frankfurters!" declaration in the fog, at which point he's so relieved and happy that Ed is still the genius he knows he is and that Ed had a plan to save them all along, and then Ed says, "Furthermore, it's a full moon--" and Izzy's life turns upside down again because Ed fucked that up and they're all going to die after all.

#tw suicide #edward teach #edward teach meta #izzy hands #izzy hands meta #blackhands #blackhands meta #ofmd #ofmd meta #our flag means death #ask #anonymous

[ofhouseadama]

I have this fic idea that is mostly vibes at the moment, but I'm currently self soothing with the general idea of like, a hurricane or typhoon or derecho hitting the capital on Cardassia. And Julian has been on Cardassia for some time now, living in whatever barracks all the Federation volunteers are sleep in, stacked like cordwood. He and Garak haven't figured it out, but they're so so close -- and then the storm hits. And whatever bombed out husk of an office building in the Imperial Plaza Garak's been working in collapses, or floods out, or something. And Julian is just stuck working triage, waiting for him to be brought in. And waiting, and waiting and waiting. Until it's just the bodies they're bringing in, and Garak's not answering messages; Julian can't even tell if they're getting through with how bad the storm is.

Then finally, when Julian's chest in tight and his brain is dropping into autopilot, he finally gets a response. Garak wasn't in his office. He was hunkered down with Ghemor and Lang and Pa'Dar and the rest of the senior officials when it happened. He's fine, he's safe, he's taken control over a server room in the basement, trying to singlehandedly re-route communications and power and keep the power grid from giving out entirely. Keeping the hospital from losing power, from losing functionality. Rerouting supplies and sandbags and manpower to the hospital. Updating Starfleet. Maintaining casualty and fatality lists.

Julian's feelings go from uncertain and terrifying and overpowering to something solid and sure. Standing there, trying to even his breaths, he finally understands what it means to be still. To be rooted. To feel steady. Blinking back tears, he manages to type back a single sentence before he's pulled away by a nurse, back to the carefully orchestrated chaos of the emergency department. Barely more than a thought, he sends back, Elim, I thought I lost you.

Neither of them are strangers to shock trauma. Complex trauma. Loss; unbearable loss, even. They know better than to promise to be safe, to promise to be careful, to promise to avoid risk. They know loss. They've survived their childhoods, and war. But to name it, to hold it close and know that to be without it would leave you bereft, to decide to name it anyway... Tain, Julian doubtlessly knows, would call him a fool, among many other things. Tain's voice rings in his head as he moves efficiently from patient to patient, triaging and tagging and never, ever stopping. If he stops, he has to think about it. Tain laughs, and laughs, and laughs.

Tain is in Garak's head too. But for the first time in his life, his body believes it when he tells himself that Tain is dead. That Tain lost the war from its first day; it's possible that Tain wasn't right about many things after all. Possibly even about him.

To lose something is to claim it.

It means something. Doesn't it mean something?

Eventually, the storm washes out to sea, and the madness begins to ebb. Garak manages to get aboard a transport to the hospital by the dint of being able to hold a clamp on a severed artery with motionless hands. The city--his city, this place where he was born and raised and has never once claimed him--has once more been ravaged; not by the fires or the bombs, but by raging winds and unforgiving rains. They make it to the hospital.

And outside--in rumpled scrubs that hang limply off his frame, a surgical cap in his hand--Julian paces tiredly, distractedly, as if he's trying to wring out the last of the adrenaline in his system. The hem of his scrub pants are damp. In the humidity and the heat, his hair is plastered to his forehead. He looks like he can't decide if he wants to punch something or cry. Garak's never wanted anyone more.

The hug surprises Garak, more than the first soft, wet kiss. How Julian's fingers curl into his shirt, anchoring him in place. How Julian's face presses into his shoulder, how his breathing begins to slow, somehow calmed by his presence. Garak isn't practiced in embraces; there's never been opportunity or motive or reason. But still, he knows enough, as seen enough to know to wrap his arms loosely at Julian's waist. To force himself to relax, to let their centers of balance pull and tug and sway and shift until they are one being, standing in the rising dawn and waiting for the day to begin.

#otp: there's hope for you yet #emily watches ds9 #if you know anything about me it's that i love a reunion #and that's on having been in an LDR with my wife