*O-baby-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn’S amazing jedi space adventures?? Is that not enough reason OK
*Obi-Wan is young and reckless and going way too far and has a passionate sense of justice only equaled by his desire for people to just have better manners darn it
*Qui-Gon is literally the most stubborn human in the galaxy and he gets called out on it ALL THE TIME
*Ladies?? An awesome new female character around every corner. Miners, healers, politicians, mad scientists, serene jedi masters, caustic jedi padawans, gentle jedi initiates, cooks, revolutionaries, mechanics, bounty hunters.
*Obi-Wan has a new little friend on every planet. “I don’t know how to people,” he grumbles as he makes a new friend for life. “Why can’t I be at ease in every situation like Qui-Gon is?” He bemoans, trailing disreputable new bosom bros behind him like a train.
*“The Council likes to be presented with freshly overturned governments more than revolutions in progress,” Qui-Gon blithely assures his dubious apprentice.
*no but really tho they never met an oppressive government they didn’t try to topple
*all the Jedi world building? If you gave ever wondered a thing about old Republic jedi, Jude Watson probably wondered too and wrote an answer
*They are basically printed novel size gen fanfics, so many tropes, so much peril and angst and teamwork and partners being concerned for each other
*made for kids, so the writing is not bad but it’s quite simple you can tear through one of these babies in like an hour or less
*“Not so! I lie!”
*Qui-Gon Jinn holding babies and making faces at small children
*Obi-Wan Kenobi the industrial-sized salt dispenser
*Seriously just read them if you love Obi-Wan you should have read them already if you love Qui-Gon then these books and Liam Neeson are probably why
vivid childhood memory of getting kicked out of probably the first minecraft stream ever opened because me rping as dr. robotnik trying to heal an injured amy rose was getting too disruptive in the stream chat
Dylan talks about love, but never in the typical happily ever after sense and it’s just so strange. Like he wants to fall in love, wants it more than anything but past that, he doesn’t see a family, any children. No white picket fence. He only sees death. And I think it all folds back into his intense fear of abandonment. I just want to know what event in his childhood kick started this death is peace and bliss train. Was it the comforting words of a mother during a time of mourning twisted by a fragile mind? What was it?
Eryka x Elise | The Spook’s Ultimate Love….For Her Copper
A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body.
I go so far as to think that you own the universe.
I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells,
dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.
I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.
- Eryka reciting Pablo Neruda’s poem, “What Spring Does To The Cherry Trees” to Elise (real or not is up to one’s own imagination!)
[Laura de Boer x
Clémence Poésy, “The Tunnel”]
The fact that Eryka’s an avid reader, loves poetry, and has a very complicated profession. The fact that, like Eryka, Elise is also a bibliophile, and a very unique character.
They share a lot in common. Their personalities compliment each
other. The ultimate kicker is the fact that both are one half of their
twin siblings whom they’d lost during their childhood.
Love kick-arse characters who also happen to be bookworms, too! How often do we come across that, aye? Cheers, Mr. Ben Richards!
@white-two-wet and I have been on a serious childhood games nostalgia kick lately. 😄Just for fun, I decided to check my brother’s room to see if we had anything and I was NOT disappointed! 😻😻😻Even my two favorite games, Pokémon Yellow and Silver, were still working and in great condition! ❤❤❤
“Oh, Ryuko. Didn’t expect to see you again.” Mandy had expected only to get some color, and catch up on some reading. She did not expect to run into any familiar faces. So this was a rather big surprise. Turning herself toward her acquaintance, it was apparent that Mandy hid quite the athletic body underneath the business-casual wardrobe she wore the first time they had met. She was fairly toned, a result of a childhood of ass-kicking, and an entire adolescence of working out every other day before school.
After all, the more she worked out, the more she can eat without falling out of shape. And she can’t afford to fall out of shape, no no. Not while there’s a world to conquer.
I wish I could see my old therapist again because like! not only is childhood abuse kicking my ass right now but also I would talk to her so much about film and how much I wanted to learn it and she would be so happy that I got into film school…I miss her but my school won’t let me go back
Long Lost Brother ||Pietro & Wanda (theycallmescarletwitch)
How long had it been since he had seen his family?
Well, all of them, eight years, he thought. He had been just eight when ‘the family’ had taken him, and now he was a few months shy of seventeen. His mother…he had seen her a few years ago, across a crowded street and she had seen him. She had called his name and he had looked up, searching for that familiar voice with a hint of desperation.
He had been beaten for that later that day.
And now he was going to see them again. He was free but he was also terrified. Part of Pietro still didn’t believe that this was real, but the father was dead and the mother was dead- by his own hand, something that terrified him even more- and now he could try and have a normal life.
i have no idea what this is other than a semi-coherent expression of jones brothers feelings/thoughts about their childhood/etc, kicked into overdrive by colin today. thank you, colin, thank you very much.
Late at night when the rest of the crew is asleep and the only man standing watch is the night guard (who’s usually smoking a pipe and drowsing in the forecastle) Killian likes to sneak up to the deck and climb the rigging, quick and soft as a thief. He’s learned by now how to do it so that they won’t see him, though it’ll be a beating or worse if he’s caught out of quarters. He’s ten years old and in the eyes of the captain, plenty old enough to be flogged like a regular sailor for insubordination (or would be, except for the fact that Liam either talks the old boot-leather bastard out of it, or takes it himself, which happens less often these days – the men have taken a shine to him, say he’ll make something of himself, and the captain isn’t going to stir up sympathy for his indentured servants among a crew that already hates his guts and is searching for one good excuse). But he’s tired of being afraid. He’s tired of being filthy and cold and hungry belowdecks, crammed in a hammock with Liam by the bulkhead where neither of them can turn over without elbowing and kneeing the other, tired of not seeing the sky, tired of being a slave. Tired. Tired. Tired.
Killian is small and light and deft, and he climbs up to the crow’s nest without a creak of the shrouds. He clambers in and makes himself comfortable among the coils of brine-smelling rope, looks up at the stars as they come out overhead. The gentle rocking of the ship at anchor soothes him, like the memory of some distant cradle. He must have been a babe once, all boys were, but he doesn’t remember it. His memory begins on that terrible morning when he woke up and Papa was gone. Everything before that has faded. He doesn’t know what they were doing or where they were supposed to be going. It has all washed away.
(He wishes he remembered Mama. Her eyes, her name. Whether she loved him. Liam says he reminds him of her, sometimes. He never says more.)
Time passes in that slow strange way it does on a calm sea at night, with the sky an ocean of stars in every direction, the waves lucent as a mirror. Killian starts to nod off himself, despite knowing he has to get belowdecks again before the watches change. The crewmen have to walk past the bulkhead every time on their way to the bunks, and they’ll notice if he’s not there. He likes to think they’d keep it mum, but they won’t. He’d get much worse from them if Liam wasn’t around, he knows. They’re not outstandingly cruel men, but they are angry and downtrodden, and their only solace is, as it tends to be, abusing those weaker and smaller than them. Sometimes he wants desperately to let them punch him a bit, just so Liam doesn’t have to walk on eggshells all the time. Maybe it would make them like him more. Maybe.
Killian pushes himself up over the top of the crow’s nest and peers down. The night watchman is snoring, dreaming of mermaids no doubt. He carefully clambers over the edge and starts to climb down the rigging, but slips and almost tumbles headlong, catching on again as his heart hammers in his throat. The night watchman stirs with a snort and stares around furiously, sweeping his lantern from side to side. “Eh? That you again, boy? I’ll flay you alive if I catch you up them spars again!”
Killian does his best to shrink, not that it will help, when the trapdoor creaks and another shadow emerges. “Oy, Edwards. I’ll take over.”
“Your good for-nothing brother better not be sneakin’ about by night again!”
“I’m sure he isn’t,” Liam says coolly. At seventeen, he’s tall and broad and curly-haired, not quite grown into his body, but with that innate air of command that have led the sailors to follow his orders quicker than their own captain’s. “Go to the galley and take an extra grog ration, you’ve earned it.”
Edwards grumbles, but slopes off, and the instant he’s out of sight, Liam turns around and stares furiously at Killian’s exact location on the ropes. “Get down from there!” he hisses. “I’ve told you not to go climbing any more!”
Abashed, Killian drops down with a soft thump and regards his brother guiltily. “I’m… I’m sorry, Li. I just… I just hate it. So much.”
Liam sighs, rumpling a hand through his hair. “I know. But I can’t watch you get whipped again. I couldn’t stop him the last time, you know. I almost killed him, Killian, and then where would we be? I’ll get us out of this, you know that. But I can’t do it without you.”
That takes Killian aback. Surprises him. He’s always thought of his big brother as the invincible one, the strongest, the smartest, the toughest, and himself as the ten-year-old, scrawny, starving, trouble-making liability. He feels proud, then. Different. “You need me?”
“Of course I do.” Liam glances away. “We’re all we have. You know that. Only don’t kill yourself until we’re free. You don’t have to do anything else. Just stay alive. That would be enough.”
Killian pauses, then patters across the deck to him, wrapping his arms around his brother’s waist, as Liam hugs him fiercely and tousles his hair, then scoops him up. “You’re going to bed,” he says. “Otherwise Edwards will flay both of us alive, and much as I love you, I’m not putting up with that twice in a row. I still have the welts from last time. Man has an arm on him like an ironwood branch.”
Killian does his best to look penitent as Liam carries him below, back into their hammock in the darkness of the hold. When they’re carefully wedged back in again, as he falls to sleep with the familiar sound of Liam’s heart beating steadily beneath his ear, he whispers, “Li?”
“We’ll always be together, right?”
Liam pauses. Then he says, “As much as I can promise, little brother. As much as is in my power. I will never leave your side.”