forever attached

anonymous asked:

Jocasta Nu survives that bit with the murder (somehow) and winds up with Rebel Intelligence (where else). Post ANH she ends up teaching Luke and possibly also Leia. Certain truths may get told a sight earlier (cough*Vader*cough). On a completely unrelated note it's not exactly easy for sundry rebels to take Vader seriously anymore due to someone spreading Temple gossip courtesy of the de facto Jedi Grandmother.

Okay but why not go full AU here and drop Jocasta into the Double Agent Vader storyline.

She’s an intelligence agent, of course, and by the time we reach the OT period she’s probably working closely with Mon Mothma herself. And if we assume that Anakin shared a bit of Tatooine culture with her (though far from everything), then she might very well recognize the name Ekkreth. Especially since she already knows that Anakin is Vader.

If Jocasta survived, I think it would be because Anakin failed to kill her in the Temple. Which, realistically, would probably mean he knowingly let her escape. So she knows better than anyone, even Obi-Wan or Yoda, exactly what he did. She was there.

So it’s going to be difficult for her, to say the least. She cared a lot about this kid, and she did what she could to help him without fully understanding the situation and without having regular access to him, and obviously something went horribly wrong. She was there in the Temple. She knows what happened. She knows what he did. It’s not something she can ever forget. Sometimes the thought of it makes her physically ill.

But she also sees what he’s doing now, and she’s perhaps better equipped to work with him than most other members of Alliance Intelligence. When the Inquisitors’ lists of Force sensitive children start coming in, she knows what that means. And when his coded phrases reference Tatooine stories, sometimes she knows what that means, too.

Eventually she sends him a coded message directly. That wouldn’t be completely out of the ordinary - Anakin’s primary Rebel contact is Leia, but sometimes he communicates with Mon Mothma as well. But when he gets this message, he knows it’s not from Mon Mothma. She doesn’t usually send physical deliveries, and she certainly wouldn’t send something like this: a carefully wrapped package of biscuits, with a note included that says “Don’t forget again.” It’s signed “Grandma.”

It’s a pretty big risk, even if there is no directly incriminating information. But Jocasta’s felt alone for a long time now. She has a place in the Rebellion, but most of her life was spent surrounded by other Jedi, and now it’s just her. Just her, and on the rare occasions when they’re stationed on the same base there’s Ahsoka Tano, grown now and insisting she’s not a Jedi. And now Ekkreth, someone she once knew as a boy called Anakin. He’s grown now, too, and it’s no less strange than Ahsoka. She’s used to thinking of both of them as children.

And yes, there’s quite a large part of Jocasta that blames Anakin for the loss of the Order and the Republic. But he’s also the only one left, and sometimes she isn’t sure if she blames him or if she blames the Jedi or even herself. It would be easiest, and maybe best, to simply blame Palpatine, but Jocasta’s learned that logic alone can only get you so far. Her emotions are harder to tame. It’s funny, she thinks bleakly sometimes, that it took the loss of everything she’d ever known and believed for her to start questioning those beliefs.

So she doesn’t know how she feels, really. But a few weeks later, when a delivery arrives for her on the Rebel base on Settra, she lets herself smile about it. There’s a seemingly untouched package of biscuits inside. Beneath every biscuit there’s a datastick. She runs each of them through the decryptions. They’re copies - abbreviated, limited, but there - of the Jedi Archives.

Eventually, she hopes, they’ll meet again in person. She still doesn’t know what she’ll do. But this is something. It’s a beginning.

Some people intentionally apply to Elsewhere University to hide; in a classroom where every name is a deflection, there is no risk of anyone looking someone up on facebook and finding things better left hidden. Not dangerous secrets, like spies and conspiracies, but a past made public in ways that hurt:

Old amber alert groups, nevermind that the missing children, if recovered, have to live with being tagged as ‘missing, lost, if found please call-’ for the rest of their lives, no matter how settled they get;

Links to news articles about court cases that include candid pictures and eager descriptions that prove how low humanity can get, lower than the Gentry in many ways, and how a crime does not just mean a criminal but a victim;

Private photographs, shared carefully but not carefully enough, and even if justice is found the fallout is never finished in a world where names are forever attached to faces and their bodies;

Parents dead and a fortune inherited and it is nothing like the stories and everything like a minefield– who wants fortune, who wants favour, who wants everything but the one left behind?

It is easy to spot those who are here to hide, if you know what to look for; the first days of freshman orientation, a blur of information traded back and forth as the new and uninformed are quite thoroughly informed to the point of feeling old, there is always the point where an introduction is formally made with one instruction: any name but your own, and not a diminutive of your own.

The ones hiding, they have consciously avoided mentioning any names to begin with and are now ready to choose their placeholder and hold it like a shield– or a sword– before them. They answer swiftly and surely, a fierce, concentrated joy in their words if not their faces.

Poppy

Lopside

Analogue

Pirouette

Two Scars

They are aware of the dangers of Elsewhere University perhaps a bit more than their other freshman peers, but not in the otherworldly way of those already Touched or Sighted or otherwise Favoured. Their world has already proved to be treacherous and dangerous to navigate, and it is an entirely earthly caution that puts iron around their necks and salt in their pockets as if it had been born there, alongside pepperspray and keychain shanks hanging with their student IDs (blessedly free of last names that carry too much weight).

They major in Criminal Justice or Law or Philosophy or Sociology or Psychology, all of them seeking to understand the people that intentionally hurt them as well as those who, after, unintentionally hurt them.

Some of them find themselves driven by desperation and lingering damage to make deals, looking into the inhuman dark for answers about their all-too-human dark.

Some of them quietly swear to never, ever make a deal with anyone, Gentry or human, again, having already lost everything (save their lives, perhaps left hanging by mere threads) to bad deals before even arriving at Elsewhere University.

Some of them find a rare and precious sliver of safety in the halls of Elsewhere, and they aren’t so foolish as to wash the salt out of their clothes but when it comes time to go home for the summer, they have a list of exactingly precise reasons as to why they cannot go home that just barely qualify them for the summer boarding program and they never leave Elsewhere University again.

They are scarred and marked by their time before attending Elsewhere University, and often Otherness finds an opening in these scars, slipping into strengthen blood and bone with unnatural grace and strength; it is not a favour granted by any of the Gentry, but a slow creep of the very fabric of the space that makes Elsewhere University Elsewhere, reaching tendrils out into the world through those who fell or were pushed through its cracks.

When they graduate, those who are able to leave, do.

They stand in courtrooms and behind curtains or in safehouses, putting themselves between the scum of the earth and the vulnerable. For the vulnerable who are no longer just vulnerable but shattered open, a quiet word and a glowing (literally) letter of recommendation sees them safe in the halls of Elsewhere University, breathing deep and sharp and confidently answering to a name- or names- that were never theirs to start with.

[x]

I know shizaya and the fan wars aren’t such a big thing anymore, but I always wondered why people make a fuss about shizaya when there’s an intense amount of incest, pedophila, etc running around the anime

shinra’s in love with a headless ‘monster’

namie is in love with her fucking brother

this sensei guy loves anri’s tits

and seiji has a stalker who changed how she looked like for him to love her.


so, why is shizaya such a bad thing?

10

Barney & Robin: Season 9
“I love you too, Barney Scherbatsky.”


I know this quote is from season 8 but it works with this gifset. Barney, will always be her Mr. Scherbatsky and nobody will ever tell me otherwise. It’s important to note that Robin, on her own terms decided to give this name (the name he used to call her Scherbatsky, it’s his nickname for her) but I love that she gave him this name when she could’ve just said “I love you” and that’s it but she didn’t and called him Mr. Scherbatsky because Barney IS her Mr. Scherbatsky. That’s all you need to know, that says endgame right there. Nobody, else will ever be called Scherbatsky it will forever be attached to Barney…

I Won’t Hurt (3 - M)

yoongi (& taehyung), 8.2k, yoongi us a rich kid and only knows about getting his own way 

warning: smut, mentions of death and murder, mention of drugs, mention of family problems, adultery 

one | two | three

“You! Lying to me again and again! I always fall for it so it’s my fault, but I won’t let you do it any longer! I know why you’re here, it’s so obvious that I want to send myself to prison for being stupid enough to believe your sob story about how you’re going to change for me!”

Originally posted by beui

Keep reading

Lonesome. Its a funny thing.
Being alone in a crowd.
What do they call it?
The lonely heart, the bitter one?
The clingy, needy young girl.
The bossy, trouble maker
Easy to love at first, but hard to love forever.
Has friends, but they don’t really care
Is shushed, told to be silent, but can’t help being naturally loud.
Dramatic at most, solemn at best.
Cares about everyone and everything,
Sometimes too much though.
Hates being told what to do and when things don’t go her way.
Is called perfect sometimes, but is far from it
If you look close into her eyes, you can see her yearning to be found, to be loved unconditionally.
Doesn’t want any strings attached, but she comes with strings.
A desire to fit in, so much she is willing to destroy herself in the process.
Maybe she will be lost forever, maybe thats who she’s meant to be.
The feeling of being unwanted always scratches in the back of her throat.
Acts strong but underneath that tough skin she is weak.
Looks up to people and yearns for their friendship and acceptance.
A little girl at heart.
A failure at best.
She is lonesome and lonesome is her…
—  Alexis Pendleton

Have you ever had this feeling when you suddenly realize that in 50 years, you will still remember your best friend and the blessed friendship you shared ? Like you realize they are an entire part of your life and they are forever attached to it.

You will forever be attached to the deep parts of those you tangle yourself within, though they will never get their hands dirty long enough to uncover the treasure that hums within your dancing pulse.

You are going to be misunderstood in the way you care, for you will love people not for what is obvious within them, but for what is hidden beneath their masks. You are not going to revel in their freckles, you will not compliment the hues within their eyes. You are going to live for the way they breathe in the cold December air, watching as their chest rises and falls like your very heartbeat. You are going to live for the way their pupils dilate when they talk about something they are truly passionate about, when their cheeks flush from a compliment or the unexpected brush of your foot against their leg.

No, you are not for everyone. You are never going to be able to stop yourself from screaming your love from rooftops, you will never be able to play it cool.

—  Bianca Sparacino, “You Are Not For Everyone”
youtube

Joyner Lucas - I’m Sorry.


Hits you right in the feels.
Listen to this dudes songs, he deserves way more attention than he’s getting right now.


Go ahead and call me a coward and say I’m not strong
Because I’m not like you
Go ahead and call me crazy cause I live in a maze
Tell me how about you?
I think I live in my head, sometimes I think that I’m dead
I hide behind my youth
No, I been losing my mind and I’m a little behind
Step inside my shoes
Cause I’ve never been happy with myself
And I don’t need no one feeling bad for me
Trying to offer me pity and throw jabs at me
Wanna give me advice and then laugh at me
Behind closed doors
Just close the door, let me be by myself
Just me and myself
I’m tired of living, I cry, I hear it’s easy to die
I wanna see for myself
And I know that sounds crazy to everyone else
But I’m depressed as fuck
Stressed as fuck
Ain’t no medicine that could cure what’s the test as drugs
I mean, I need extra love
And that ain’t even enough
‘Said that ain’t even enough
And where the fuck is God? (God, god)
Damn, maybe I ain’t believing enough
And today we gonna see if he’s real
And if he is, I guess I’m probably going to hell
Look, I ain’t wanna die like this
I ain’t picture my life like this
They don’t know what it’s like like this
Pretending I’m happy so I can smile like this
And laugh like you
Sometimes I wonder if I ever act like you
Could I finally fit in and maybe relax like woo
Or would you feel lost without me?
Cause honestly, I think the world is better off without me
And my mind’s spinning, this is the line finish
Truth is, I don’t care how they feel about my feelings
I made up my mind, I’m going out like Robin Williams
I guess I’m not the Ordinary People of John Legend
And I’ve been suicidal since the day I was nine, shit
Okay, the day I was nine
I’ve been tired of being bullied, cuz, stay out the fire
Grandma told me I should take it one day at a time
And damn it, look at me now, fuck
Fuck, pens runnin’ out
Shit, fu- *sigh*
*scrapping paper*
Look, just know it’s a new day
But if you reading this
Then it’s probably too late! *gunshot*

[Hook]
Just make sure you tell my family
It’s okay, I’m sorry
But it’s too late, I’m sorry
So much weighing on me
I don’t wanna live to see another day, I’m sorry
But I can’t stay, I’m sorry
So much weighing on me
Just make sure you tell my family
It’s okay, I’m sorry
But it’s too late, I’m sorry
So much weighing on me
I don’t wanna live to see another day, I’m sorry
But I can’t stay, I’m sorry
So much weighing on me
[Verse 2]
I hope you got what you wanted
I hope you finally happy
It’s too late for you
Been going out of my mind
You don’t know how many times that I done prayed for you
I hope you hear me, goddamn it
Cause I got so much shit that I wanna say to you
I used to shine, now I’m all in the dark
I remember I used to tell you to follow your heart
But goddamn it, look at you now, it’s all of your fault
How could you?
Maybe it’s my fault
I shoulda paid more attention to what you been doing
Maybe I should have been more of an influence
I can’t believe that you’re dead, I fu-
I read your letter and all I could do is have mixed feelings about it
But I’ll forever be attached to you, damn
Part of me feels bad for you
A part of me feels like you weak and I’m mad at you
And I don’t mean to be insensitive
But I don’t understand how we couldn’t prevent this shit
You took the easy way out
Goddamn it, you dead
I mean, look what you did
I’m so fucking upset, how could you be so selfish?
Nigga, how could you be so selfish?
Now you’re gone, you done left me so helpless
I wonder what God thinks
I hope you in God’s place behaving yourself
Yo, what the fuck you gotta say for yourself? (say for yourself)
Look, I really feel lost without you
I hate the fact you think the world is better off without you
And my mind’s spinning, this is the line finish
Truth is, I don’t care how you feel about my feelings
And I’d be lying to you if I told you I’m fine, listen
I know that you can hear me, all I need is like five minutes
I just wanna reach inside the casket and pull you out
I’m sorry this isn’t something that we both could figure out
I wish I could hear you now
Is your soul missing?
I wonder if you could do it again, would you do it different?
Tell me what death is like
Was it meant for you, brodie?
Did the heaven support it?
Are you fucking happy now?
Did you get what you wanted?
Isn’t this what you wanted?
I feel the temperature falling
And you’ve been suicidal back day you were nine?
Yeah, even back then, you was nine
We was living on the edge, couldn’t stay out the fire
Grandma told us we should take it one day at a time
And damn it, look at you now
Shit, but it’s a new day
And if you can’t hear me, it’s probably too late
FUCK

[Hook x2]
Just make sure you tell my family
It’s okay, I’m sorry
But it’s too late, I’m sorry
So much weighing on me
I don’t wanna live to see another day, I’m sorry
But I can’t stay, I’m sorry
So much weighing on me
Just make sure you tell my family
It’s okay, I’m sorry
But it’s too late, I’m sorry
So much weighing on me
I don’t wanna live to see another day, I’m sorry
But I can’t stay, I’m sorry
So much weighing on me

Masterlist (N-Z) + Stories.

Neymar Jr

Nuri Şahin

Olivier Giroud

Oscar Emboaba

Paulo Dybala

Per Mertesacker

Philippe Coutinho

Rafinha Alcântara

Raphaël Varane

Robert Lewandowski

Roman Bürki

Ruben Loftus-Cheek

Sebastian Giovinco

Sergi Roberto

Sergio Agüero

Sergio Ramos

Sven Bender

Thiago Alcântara

Thiago Silva

Thibaut Courtois

Thorgan Hazard

Toni Kroos

Viktor Fischer

Wojciech Szczesny

Xabi Alonso

Zlatan Ibrahimovic

Stories

Fix You

All

Masterlist (A-I)

Masterlist (J-M)