mission delicate

You wake up in a universe where everyone is ALWAYS super strong except you. You’re saught after as a hero for delicate missions where precision and minimal structural damage is ideal.

Free My Spirit (Bucky x Reader)

Originally posted by jamesbuchananbarnesisbae

Bucky Barnes x Reader Oneshot 


Just a quick something I hate-wrote down at two in the morning. It’s probably shit. But I hope you enjoy it anyway :) This isn’t proofread at all, so please point out any mistakes. Thanks!

Word Count:1510

Warnings: mostly angst, some fluff, cursing

It was hard sometimes. Pretending to be happy, when in reality all you were was a broken shell of a person. Ignoring the ache for acceptance was becoming easier and easier, but sometimes, there were days when your spirit cried out in agony, wishing to be freed.

Others envied you, thinking that you were living ‘the life’ – a lavish, carefree life filled with flowing wines, expensive dishes, silken sheets. In a sense, that was true; you had more than enough tasty food to eat, an overflow of beverages and drawers of delicate materials that felt like they swam over your skin. But were you happy? No.

Being part of ‘The Avengers’ sounded like an exclusive and important job. All of a sudden, shops sold your face on birthday cards, little figurines of you for children to play with, magazines with your face disgustingly dolled up and photoshopped onto the front cover. People aspired to be like you, their faces filled with admiration every time they saw you. They called you a ‘hero’ and idolised you endlessly.

But you knew you were no hero. You were a coward.

A hero was someone who went through pain and still came out strong, not someone who is afraid of their own feelings. A hero is someone who opposes evil, who resists darkness. A hero is someone like Bucky Barnes.

You admired him not only because of his impressive physical strength and his friendship with Captain America. You admired him because he was broken, just like you. Yet, he still fought, trying to get the world to see him for who he really was, not who he was forced to be for decades.

God, you loved him, so damn much that it hurt. It was hard not to, with his charming personality and stunning good looks. He was always so sweet and kind, making your heart melt. He was one of your closest friends, always there for you when you needed him. You were happy, because Bucky was the light in your life, your safe haven.

It pained your heart to know he’d never be yours.

You were nothing compared to Natalia Romanova. Her fiery hair and sexy lips were enough to win any man over. Not to mention her natural grace and sharp wit. Oh, and her large bosom.

You’ve seen the way they look at each other. Longing, heated gazes thrown from opposite ends of the room, touches that lasted a second too long, secretive smirks half hidden behind smouldering eyes. It was obvious to anyone that they wanted each other, the not-so-subtle signs were clear as day. Your co-workers only encouraged them, telling them to ‘stop playing’ and ‘finally get together, dammit’.

How could you ever compete with the Black Widow?

These thoughts nagged at you as you performed your daily activities. You tried your damn best at everything, you really did. But she always seemed to be better than you in everything. Hit a bullseye at the shooting range? She hits five. Lift a thirty-pound weight? She lifts fifty. Gather required intel in one day? She does it in an hour.

You didn’t mean to envy her, but you really couldn’t help it. Everyone you ever gave a damn about chose her, not you. It really got on your nerves after a while.

Hence why you were currently swigging straight from a bottle of Smirnoff at 1 am on the roof of the Avengers tower. A mission was underway, once again finding information about a presumed HYDRA base. The mission was delicate, requiring the agents to dress up ‘fancy’ and attend an elaborate party hosted by a suspected HYDRA leader. You had eagerly volunteered, hoping that this could be your chance to show that you were, in fact, capable of acting like a dame. You were desperate to prove that you, too, could be seductive. You were even more excited when you found that two avengers would act as a ‘couple’ and attend the party. Your heart stuttered with joy when you discovered that the designated male agent chosen was Bucky Barnes.

Your heart dropped to the floor and shattered once again when you were told that the designated female agent would be Natalia.

Once again, that gaze was thrown across the room, making a lump form in your throat. Of course. You should’ve known.

You would never be chosen for a mission like that.

Pretending everything was alright was harder than ever tonight. Pretending you didn’t care about them was even harder.

The liquid in the half empty bottle sloshed around as you took yet another long slurp, some alcohol escaping down your chin, not that you cared. You didn’t care about anything anymore. You didn’t care at all.

The sky was clear tonight, constellations of stars twinkling at you happily, mocking you. Gazing up into the endless dark blue void, you wondered if a world existed, just one world, in which you could be truly happy…

Quiet footsteps interrupted your pathetic daydream. Looking around, your insides plummeted with dread when you locked gazes with the handsome supersoldier, who was still dressed in his smart, this-outfit-kills-and-I-know-it clothes. Quickly grabbing the vodka and hiding it beside you, you tore your gaze away from James’s caring eyes.

“Are you alright, (Y/n)?” He questioned, slowly sitting down beside you. You shrugged nonchalantly in response.

“O’ course. Why wouldn’t I be?” You replied, trying to appear casual.

Bucky sighed. “That”, he motioned to the alcohol hidden beside you, “tells me otherwise. Now, what’s going on?”

You scoffed, your liquid friend making you much bolder than you actually were.

”Nothing’s going on. And why do you even care?”

Bucky frowned deeply at this, looking straight into your eyes. “I care about you because you’re my friend, (Y/n).”

Ah, there it goes. That disgusting boundary. Friend.

“Yeah”, you answered, rolling your eyes. “That’s all I am. Anyway, how’s Natasha doing? Is she just a friend as well?”

Bucky looked stunned. “What on earth are you talking about, (Y/n)?! Of course she’s just a friend. Why would you think otherwise?”

You grabbed your bottle and took another swig, eyes filling with hurt and longing.

“I’ve seen the way you look at each other. Why don’t you stop playing around and just fuck already?”

The brunet gasped, looking at you with a mixture of shock and anger. “Do you really think I’m that type of person? Nothing romantic, just purely sexual?”

You shrugged once again. “Well, the way you shamelessly stare at her breasts brings that to mind, yes.”

Bucky ran his prosthetic hand through his long hair. “That’s very offensive, (Y/n). Both to me and to Natasha. First of all, I do not stare or want to fuck her, as you so nicely put it. And second, Natasha is not the girl I want.”

Hearing this, your heart seemed to crush.

“Oh yeah?” You practically spat. “Then who is? Wanda? Sharon? Or just a random whore?”

Bucky growled at this, getting up abruptly. “You’re wasted, (Y/n). I’m not having this conversation with you when you’re this drunk.”

You got up as well, your legs slightly shaky, a fact you chose to ignore. “Is that so, Barnes? Scared to admit who you have the hots for?”

“Oh, for the love of…” Bucky spun you around to face him, his piercing blue eyes blazing. “It’s you, alright, (Y/n)?! It’s you! From the very start, it has always been you. You were always there for me, you always made me feel human again. I love you!”

You stood there, frozen, not daring to move a muscle. You had sobered up quite fast at the yelling, and you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Bucky loved…you?

“Me?” You whispered, a single tear trickling down your cheek. Bucky’s expression softened immediately, his arms pulling you close to him.

“Yes, you”, he murmured. “No one makes me feel like you do. You make me feel like life is worth it. You make me feel like someone finally gives a shit. You may not believe this, but I love you.”

A choked sob left your throat. “I love you, too.” You hoped to whatever God was out there that you weren’t dreaming, that this wasn’t just some cruel figment of your own imagination.

Bucky smiled, gently brushing his large hand over your cheek. Your breath got caught in your throat as he moved closer to you, eyes moving down to glance at your lips. You froze, feeling his breaths fan over your face and watching as brunet shut his eyes slowly and brushed his lips over yours softly.

Getting over your shock quickly, you gripped his neck and crashed his lips onto yours, shutting your eyes tightly as stray tears fell down your lashes. You felt like you were finally able to breathe; as Bucky’s kisses were all you needed to stay alive.

He loved you. James Buchanan Barnes loved you.

After all, there was a world in which you could be happy. It seems that your spirit can be free at last.

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Miracle Mistake part 2

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warning: Small bit of angst and some fluff?

Tags: @captainswriting@caitsymichelle13​ @animeepeeps @384-chubby-dumpling@smollittlebean

  You haven’t been getting out of the house as much anymore because of how big you’ve gotten bigger. Ned and Michelle have been helping you, along with Aunt May, with getting you what you need and soothing you when you break down into tears. Every mood swing, every craving, every little movement your children make, only serves as a reminder about how Peter isn’t here to help you. Michelle makes the midnight or three in the morning craving runs, Ned talks to you and reads the baby books with you, and Aunt may sooths you and tells you what to expect. It still isn’t the same, as much as they tried to help you.

  They refuse to let you visit Peter’s gravesite since you were 6 and a half months along, which pissed you off since you wanted to “tell” him everything that happened during the pregnancy, so you took to writing letters. You wrote letters catching you up to the current day of your pregnancy, the feelings of each day that still swirled inside of you.

  Looking up from your book, you smile at the sight of your seven-month-old twins playing on a mat together. Michael is smaller than his brother, though the doctors had assured you that was normal as the human female body couldn’t form two children the exact weight and height at the same time, so you aren’t too worried. Ben is already showing that he’s gentle with his smaller brother, even though Mike wants to start playing rough with their toys. You can’t help but giggle at them.

  Your phone rings and you check for caller ID, which makes your heart drop. Why is he calling you? You had only talked to him once, on the worst day of your life, how did he get your cellphone number?

  “Hello?” you work hard to keep your voice from shaking.

  “Hey, yeah, is this Miss Y/n L/n?” The deep voice on the other side is only all too familiar to you.

  You swallow hard. “Yes, and this is Tony Stark that I’m speaking to?”

  “It is indeed. I need to ask you to come to the Tower.”

  You frown slightly, looking at your babies. “Um, when? I’m kinda…busy at the moment.”

  “Soon. Tomorrow at most, okay? I have something here that I believe is yours.”

  “Okay, thank you.” He hangs up. “I think…”

  Moving to sit with your babies on the floor, you decide to call Ned later to see if he could watch the twins. Right now, all you want to do is spend time with your babies before you might have your heart crushed by Tony Stark again.
  Everyone watches you as you walk through the halls of the new Avengers Tower, looking around for any sign of Tony or any of the current Avengers. No one had given you any instructions of where to go or who to ask for, so you are stuck wandering the possibly endless maze of halls of the giant building. It honestly was just a pain being on your own here.

  You’re seriously thinking about calling Tony’s number until you catch a glimpse of him in one of the room’s windows. You sigh in relief and hurry into the room, only to freeze just past the doorway.

  In the room are four people; Tony Stark, Vision, Black Widow, and a man with his back to you, but you knew the type of suit he’s wearing. It’s not the same as the one you’re used to, so you know Tony must have made another one for him, but you know him.

  “Is this some kind of sick joke?” you look over to Stark with anger in your eyes. How could he ask you to come here for this?

  The man with his back to you turns to face you and you roll your lips to keep yourself quiet. You can’t make yourself look into the white eyes of his mask. You can’t even bring yourself to talk to him, to see if it’s really him under there.

  “Y/n, I can explain why you’re here. When I told you that Peter was dead, there was a reason. He went on a delicate mission-“

  Your phone ringing startles everyone, including you since you were close to telling Tony to shut up, you didn’t want to hear a word of the bull he was trying to tell you. You freak out a little inside when you see the caller is Ned. Answering quickly, you try not to seem too panicked.

  “Hey, yeah, I’m here. What’s wrong? N-ned, slow down, I-…no, no, I can hear him, what…Ned, tell me what happened to Michael! …ugh, I’ll be home soon.”

  You hang up with an angry look and rush out of the room, running down the halls and out to your car to drive home as quickly as you can while still obeying traffic laws. You pull up to your house sooner than you thought you would and run inside, stumbling inside after tripping on the first step.


  He peeks out from your living room. “I’m in here!”

  You sigh, walking quickly into the room to see Michael whimpering with a band-aid on his little knee. “Ned, what happened to him?” You ask as you crouch by your baby.

  “He and Benny were rough housing and got a little cocky and tried to stand up with the couch and ended up barely scraping his knee.”

  You give him a look. “So, why did you call me sounding so panicked?”

  He looks sheepish as he tries to shrug it off. “Um, well…I didn’t know how to calm him down, but he stopped crying after about five minutes or maybe less.”

  You sigh, but gather Michael into your arms gently as Ben crawls over to both of you. “Thank you for watching them, Ned.”

  “What were you out doing?”

  You sigh softly. “Nothing really important. I’ll see you later, okay?”

  He nods, waving goodbye as you pick up both twins and walk upstairs to lay them in bed, which are two cribs on either side of the baby room that you decorated with light blue wall paint to keep it bright, Peter’s old mask on one of the shelves, then other little superhero things you found for the boys to look at before they fall asleep. You gently kiss both their heads before turning off the light and heading to your room to read a little before you go to bed yourself. Just as you get comfortable in bed and flip to your saved page, you hear a window open and close in your house.

  Getting up quietly, you grab the bat by your bed which Michelle had gotten you, even though both you and Peter had never been big on sports at all. Now you’re glad you have it. Padding softly down the hall, you peer into every room, freezing in place as you look into your twins’ room. There’s a person standing just barely in reach of the moonlight that’s shining into the room. Taking a deep, quiet breath, you walk up behind the person to stop again. Ben is standing up in his crib, holding the person’s hand (more like finger honestly) in his tiny hands, gurgling at them. The person pulls away to pick up the mask off the shelf and look over it carefully.

  You steady yourself, raising the bat above your head to bring it down to knock the intruder out. Just as you are about to fully bring it down on the person’s head, they flip around and grab the bat, sliding it out of your hands and behind them. You’re shocked that they can move that fast that they already have your hands pinned the hallway wall, just outside the twins’ room.

  “What the fu-let me go!” Realization finally hits you as you start to struggle.

  “Shh, one of them’s still sleeping,” Spider-Man whispers, his voice muffled, but you know the voice so well.

  You stare right at him, still not believing it’s him. After so many months, over a year, of thinking he’s dead, he’s standing right in front of you.

  “Stark was trying to tell you I was on a delicate mission. I could’ve died any time on it and it was easier to not let you have false hope if I didn’t make it back. And if you had tried to call me during the mission, it would’ve put us all in danger. It was my idea,” his voice cracks slightly. “I saw you at the grave they put up and…I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to hurt you like that.”

  He lets go of your hands so you reach up and pull up his mask slowly. “Peter…”

  You smile as you pull the mask off, seeing his fair fluffy from the mask messing it up. God, how much you missed him and how he’d look at you with such earnest and hope in his eyes.

  “Are you staying now?” You ask quietly, not wanting to talk too loud in case it’s just a dream.

  He smiles at you, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “I have you again and I’m not letting you go again.”

  You smile into the kiss, cupping his cheeks gently as you still hold his new mask.

  “One question, though.”

  You look at him curiously.

  “What are those kids’ names and are they mine?”

  You laugh softly. This is gonna be fun to explain the whole night.

yI just reblogged a post, a magnificent and beautiful post, about Obi-Wan *not* opening up when Anakin and Anakin’s sense of entitlement come barging in for information on private matters of Obi-Wan’s past.

And all I’m thinking about now is Obi-Wan having to take a mission without Anakin because really delicate diplomatic mission that relates to Obi-Wan’s past and is really time sensitive (maybe someone making an attempt on Nield life on Melida / Daan? So Obi-Wan has to go there immediately and Anakin has exams or something to qualify for his next round of education, so he has to stay in the Temple) and just …

Other Jedi babysitting Anakin.

Like Quinlan first, because Quinlan has Aayla and this is before the mess where they lose their memory and she has to take the exams too.

Look, Obi-Wan thinks, Quinlan is chill, of course things are going to go swimmingly. He’ll probably have to worry about Quinlan teaching Anakin new cantina songs, but otherwise, they will get along greatly.

Time two days (and it’s two because Quinlan spent most of one trawling the underworld of Coruscant to sow the seeds for his next undercover op while the padawans were taking their exams) Quinlan is ready to punt Anakin through a wall. 

Especially because of the whining over Obi-Wan keeping his comm call to Anakin brief and professional and not fessing on his own history.

Quinlan is chill, but Quinlan doesn’t suffer certain kind of people easily and teen!Anakin hits too many bad buttons. (Obi-Wan would disagree but Quinlan knew from Obi-Wan’s padawanship under Jinn and Obi-Wan’s opinion of Jinn that Obi-Wan’s judgement sometimes is skewed as fuck).

The boy is acting like Obi-Wan did somehow wrong him by not divulging mission-sensitive information, past-sensitive information and by not indulging the boy’s need to talk about his day. 

Look kid, Obi-Wan is kind of busy with stuff that is more important than your exams right now.

But hey, Quinlan has his mission come up, so sad, too bad.


And I got sidetracked.

Now I don’t know if I want more to see the   s u f  f e r i n g   of the various Jedi dealing with Anakin (mixed with ‘would you tone it down with the prying in my friend / your Master’s past?’ especially once Anakin tries to find out on his own) or Anakin getting the harsh reality check of how actual, normal padawanships in the Order works, but I kinda want to see both?

Originally posted by jessestar10

[붐붐SERIES] FieldAgent!Wonwoo (PG)

Prompt: It’s your first mission after months, and you’re partnered up with your ex-mentor: the cold, aloof Wonwoo. What could go wrong?
Word Count: 3,074 (isweartojisoos, this will be the longest out of the entire series, I PROMISE!)
Genre: Angst-ish? Fluff-ish?
Warnings: Mild cursing

A/N: I thought I would have an easy time writing out my bias’ installment of the series, but I guess the creative juices aren’t flowing as well as they used to (I blame school). Major, MAJOR thanks to scooped for helping me out with this. COULDN’T HAVE DONE IT WITHOUT YOU!!!

This is kind of a spinoff from my Jeonghan instalment, occurring just months after that incident. 

The next member will be DINO!

wooed <3

See the rest of the 붐붐 (BOOM BOOM) SERIES here:

Biker!Seungcheol | Collector!Jeonghan | UndercoverAgent!Junhui | FieldAgent!Wonwoo | Hacker!Jihoon | RoboticsGenius!Minghao

Originally posted by kittykatkwon

“No, no no no this can’t be happening,” you groan, slumping against the metal walls.

It may be a defense mechanism of sorts,” Woozi’s voice crackles through your earpieces. “The shithead mob boss may be smarter than we thought.”  

“Is there any way to breach it?” your only other companion Wonwoo asks, his voice reverberating clandestinely around the enclosed space.

Of course.” You can hear the irritation in the hacker’s voice. “I just don’t know how long it’d take; I’d have to hack into the central control system at this rate, it could take hours for all I know. I’ll be honest, it wasn’t something I was expecting.”

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Ask Ausiello: Spoilers on Supergirl
By Michael Ausiello

Question: Still worried about Alex and Maggie on Supergirl. Since Floriana Lima isn’t going to be on the show full-time, should I just assume Maggie turns down Alex’s proposal? —Cait

Ausiello: Have faith, Cait! My latest intel suggests that Alex and Maggie’s romance is far from over, even if Lima will only recur in the CW drama’s third season. In other Supergirl casting news, J’onn will have his hands full in the beginning of Season 3 when an aggressive White Martian named Da’rack comes to Earth on a particularly delicate mission — which, we assume, will not be handled delicately.

dianaatrevor  asked:

Haha I'll give you a happy prompt ( there's never enough spirk in this world ) : Spock realizes his feelings for Jim and just completely FREAKS OUT ( in a "this isn't logical this human spends 99% of his time finding new ways of annoying me SURAK HELP ME" way ). So he starts avoiding Jim ( like, puts himself on beta shift, pratically runs everytime they're in the same room because my poor boy is traumatized) and oc, Jim is NOT happy about Spock's behavior. I guess this could be a "wtf" prompt XD

Originally posted by stydiaeverafter

… but i finally finished it. god, i’ve been studying so much the past few days, and then i accidentally wrote You Always Meet Twice and … yeah, i know.

anyways. finally!!

since @shamanship requested “TOS Spirk get together”, I filled both prompts in one.

Under the cut: Emotions
Ship: TOS Spirk
Rating: Gen
Wordcount: 1529

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So I see some posts talking about how Jon doesn’t smile often at Daenerys which is, of course, the ultimate proof of what dysfunction is. Some draw comparisons between the scenes he has with her and the ones with Ygritte (or Sansa.) So then, allow me to shed light on a few tidbits you appear to be missing.

(Beware that this is in no way an attempt at forcing anyone to like jonerys. Just a response to these kind of posts.)

You all do know that Jon’s situation with Dany is very different from the one he had with Ygritte, right? Jon’s entire situation is different here.

The Jon that goes to meet Daenerys is responsible for an entire kingdom. The Jon that goes to meet Daenerys is responsible for bringing awareness of a damn apocalypse that’s about to befall Westeros. And who’s Daenerys? Daenerys is a foreign queen, with a massive army behind her, holding all the resources needed to fight the White Walkers, an enemy she knows nothing of, an enemy Jon barely has enough proof of their existence. The Jon that met and fell in love with Ygritte was still young, inexperienced. The Jon that met Daenerys held a much heavier weight on his shoulders. He was on a political mission, a very delicate one in which he had to prove the existence of an enemy he virtually has no proof of, and to forge an alliance in which he has nothing to offer in return for than a warning. And again, Daenerys isn’t a wildling girl. She’s a Queen, a dangerous one. A woman who holds a lot of contempt for Jon’s own father. There’s a lot of bad blood between Targaryens and Starks, all of which is for good reason. That already puts a heavy strain on their relationship.

So what exactly do you expect Jon to do? To just flaunt his love for her? To flirt with her openly, him who’s already cautious by nature? Of course he’ll be guarded. Of course he won’t be open.

Don’t get me wrong, as much as I love jonerys I’m not very happy with how their relationship was developed either, except that’s a rant for another time. For now, I simply want say that Jon being so cautious around Daenerys is in no way an indicator that he doesn’t have any feelings for her. It just means that he’s finally grown up, that he has common sense, that he has enough tact to know how much he should and shouldn’t be open towards the woman who resents his family on principle, whose help he desperately needs, whom he is helplessly attracted to (because he is.)

You’re welcome.

fic: just a little bit

[obi-wan/anakin] pg. 1942 words.

Anakin took a deep breath and leaned into Obi-Wan’s space. Obi-Wan kept his ground and arched a brow at him. This was curious.

‘I like being tied up,’ Anakin whispered conspiratorially.

Obi-Wan blinked. ‘I beg your pardon?’

a/n: obikin week! secrets/confession. just a really silly thing. 

ao3 or 


They were on their way back to their respective bedrooms when Anakin stopped Obi-Wan with a hand on his shoulder. Obi-Wan glanced back at him expectantly. Anakin stared at Obi-Wan, eyes wider than normal.

‘Yes, Anakin?’ prompted Obi-Wan. He was tired, jittery, and felt cluttered with emotions. That was unacceptable in the middle of a delicate mission such as the one they were embroiled in (not that physical and emotional exhaustion was any less dangerous in a literally explosive environment). A bit of meditation would do wonders before heading off to bed - as soon as his former Padawan saw it fit to let him go.

Anakin took a deep breath and leaned into Obi-Wan’s space. Obi-Wan kept his ground and arched a brow at him. This was curious.

‘I like being tied up,’ Anakin whispered conspiratorially.

Obi-Wan blinked. 'I beg your pardon?’

Shrugging, Anakin’s hand slid off to clasp behind his back. 'It’s no big deal. I mean, some people like to do it doggy style, others prefer missionary, and I fancy being tied up.’

'You - ’ Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose and asked the Force for an extra dose of patience. 'What are you talking about, Anakin?’

'I was just sharing information that I haven’t told you before,’ Anakin explained, smiling at Obi-Wan as if Obi-Wan was the foolish one between them. Somehow.

Obi-Wan pinched the fold of skin harder; it was starting to help. 'Why in Force’s name do you think I want to know that?’

Anakin smiled in a rather patronising way. 'You said it yourself: we need to trust each other more.’

'And you think telling me that you like being tied up is a road to trust, do you?’

'Well, yeah.’ Anakin looked bewildered. 'I also like getting spanked, although the first time, I have to admit, wasn’t that much fun, but it was only because - ’

'Sith’s balls, Anakin, it’s impolite to suddenly force knowledge regarding your sexual proclivities to someone unwilling to know them!’

Anakin reared back in shock, placing a hand on his chest. 'You don’t want to know?’ he asked, sounding utterly crushed.

'No! I mean, yes, I absolutely do not.’

'But,’ Anakin looked bewildered, 'I want to tell you. I trust you, Obi-Wan.’

Obi-Wan wiped a hand down his face. 'Force, Anakin, are you doing this to get back at me for saying that to you?’

The furrow between his eyebrows deepened. 'Get back at - of course not, Master!’ He grabbed Obi-Wan’s hand and held it tightly to his chest. 'I would never. Well, alright, normally I would, but not about this. This is sacred between us.’

'Your spanking?’ said Obi-Wan, weary.

'This,’ he gestured between them, 'trust between you and me. It is one of the most precious things to me, Master. You are priceless. I would never take that for granted or make a joke at its expense.’ Anakin stuck out his lower lip at him. 'Please believe me.’

Obi-Wan was worryingly weak against that face. If only Anakin could wear a different one. Ridiculous, he knew, but even Jedi weren’t immune to pleading eyes and pouting lips.

Pleading eyes that were just slightly dazed and pouting lips that were stained even redder with wine. Reaching out, Obi-Wan cupped Anakin’s cheek in his palm. Anakin sighed happily and leaned into the touch.

'Anakin, look at me.’

Anakin did, soft and unfocused.

'Did the Ambassador give you something to drink? Something other than the berry wine at the start of dinner?’ It would explain the sense of frazzled energy buzzing under his skin. It was likely coming from Anakin, leaking through their bond. Usually, Obi-Wan’s shields were ironclad but he had decided to keep their bond open for the length of this particular mission. Obi-Wan wouldn’t necessarily be affected in the same way if Anakin had taken something, but it would harder to manage the overflow. He steadied his shields but the sensation remained. Worrying, that.

'He refilled my cup,’ said Anakin, taking two steps directly into Obi-Wan’s personal space. 'It was delicious. I loved it. Kind of bitter with sweet notes, just like when I don’t spit but - ’

A blush scorched Obi-Wan’s cheeks and he yanked his hand away, coughing into it. 'Enough, Anakin,’ he said, knowing from the Force that they were alone in this stretch of corridor but glancing around anyway to make sure.

Anakin took Obi-Wan’s chin in his fingers and tilted his face up. The haziness in his eyes sharpened at the edges as he stared down at Obi-Wan. 'And you, Master? What do you like?’

Obi-Wan wrapped his fingers around Anakin’s wrist, keeping him still. 'Meditation, Anakin, I like that. The Code, too.’

'Oh, I’m sure we can come up with a few more things you might enjoy,’ said Anakin, a rumble coming into his voice.

'My former Padawan not accepting untested drinks in the midst of a negotiation with a semi-hostile Neutral party is something I rather want to happen.’

Anakin moved even closer until he hovered over Obi-Wan. 'But don’t you ever think about a tongue in your arse, Master?’ asked Anakin, earnest and concerned, as if Obi-Wan’s lack of imagination was a failing.

Obi-Wan tried to keep his expression indifferent but there was no helping the fierce blush conquering his face. He firmly pried away Anakin’s hold on his chin and may have squeezed his wrist harder than necessary.

'No, Anakin, I’ve never thought about it.’ Now, trying it is a different matter altogether. Quiet, Kenobi.

Anakin let go of Obi-Wan’s jaw, and Obi-Wan breathed a quiet sigh of relief which turned into a rather obvious groan when Anakin’s hand made a detour into Obi-Wan’s hair. ‘You’re drugged,’ said Obi-Wan, mostly to himself, and tried to ignore how Anakin was now combing through his hair. ‘The prudent course of action would be to use the Force to burn through it but we don’t know the substance and dosage our lovely host gave you.’

Anakin nodded. ‘Fucking while your high can be enjoyable with the right spice.’

That was too much insight into Anakin’s extracurricular activities than Obi-Wan wanted to learn. He would never think of controlling Anakin’s actions but it was his lifelong dream that Anakin would learn to be even just a little bit sensible. Through osmosis, if nothing else.

Something must show on his face because Anakin gave a lopsided smile and said, ‘You know I’m clean, Master. One good thing about routine examinations after every mission. Just means I can be messy again afterwards.’

‘That’s not exactly reassuring, my dear, but I’ll take it.’

‘Oh, I bet you can – ’


Anakin grinned unrepentantly.

Sighing, Obi-Wan pushed Anakin’s fringe back from his face and let the soft curls sift between his fingers. ‘It’s too dangerous to leave you alone tonight. Force knows what’ll happen if you wander unsupervised and come across someone less than kind.’

‘I wish you’d be less kind to me, Master,’ said Anakin, a wistful note layered into his voice. ‘It makes what I think I’m going to do too difficult.’

Ignoring him would be the wisest thing to do at the moment. Obi-Wan gently uncurled Anakin’s fingers from his hair and gave a small pat to the back of his hand. ‘There, let’s go.’ A different mood fell over Anakin as Obi-Wan led them to his chambers, the exuberance twisting into something with more of an edge. The silence grated at Obi-Wan’s nerves and he kept an alert eye on his surroundings. Obi-Wan prodded at their bond and frowned; it was still heightening his own emotions. It was inconceivable that their host would jeopardise the armistice, although drugging a Jedi Knight, not to mention a prominent General in the war, was tantamount to treason. As far as Obi-Wan could tell, Anakin was given something to lower his inhibitions in hopes that the right (or wrong, in this case) person would find him and pry secrets from his loose tongue. Obi-Wan recalled Ambassador Eik’s displeased expression when Anakin had turned down further conversation to accompany Obi-Wan back to their rooms and was glad for once that Anakin enjoyed shadowing him so much. Something much more sinister could have happened to him. Obi-Wan’s fingers twitched for his lightsaber and he crossed his arms.

Fortunately, they made it to Obi-Wan’s bedroom without trouble. Obi-Wan searched through the Force and found no immediate threats inside. Still, the tension lingered on his shoulders as he took off his outer robe and draped it over the back of a chair. Anakin threw himself on one of the lounges in the sitting room, boots digging into the soft pillows.

‘Must you, Anakin?’

‘When you keep making that face, yeah.’

‘It’s good to know that, drugged or not, you’re still intent on making my life hard.’

The corner of Anakin’s mouth twitched. ‘I can give you hard, Obi-Wan.’

‘Shush, you. This is a serious predicament we’re in. We must report this to the Council. The repercussions of this will not be taken lightly by the Senate.’

‘Can we stop playing war for a moment?’ pleaded Anakin.

‘This isn’t a game, Anakin.’

‘I know. I just – ’ He made a frustrated noise and stared up at the vaulted ceiling. ‘I feel strange, Master.’

Concern drew Obi-Wan’s brows together. Conflicting priorities pulled at him. On one hand, there was the war and the Jedi Council. On the other, Anakin. Obi-Wan took a deep breath. ‘Strange, how?’ he asked, taking the few steps towards the sofa.

Anakin waved a hand at his head. ‘My thoughts are tangled. I know they usually are but it feels like I can say or do anything I want and there won’t be consequences. I can’t afford that.’ Anakin scowled. ‘And my kriffing head hurts as if a herd of Banthas is marching across it.’

‘I may have a solution.’

Letting out a groan, Anakin covered his face with his hands. ‘If you suggest meditation, I’ll have no choice but to bend you over my knee and spank you myself.’

They both fell silent.

‘Um. Master, I meant no disrespect.’

‘Clearly, my dear,’ said Obi-Wan dryly. He stood over Anakin’s prone form. ‘Thought about it a lot, have you?’

It was gratifying to see Anakin turn red with embarrassment. ‘I – no?’

‘We’ll have to file this away under the many, many things we should never talk about ever again.’ Obi-Wan tapped a finger thoughtfully on his elbow.

Anakin peeked through his fingers up at him.

Eventually, Obi-Wan’s shoulders drooped and he gave a resigned sigh. ‘What do I do with you, Anakin? And please don’t say I should tie you up and put a gag in your mouth because I have a feeling you’ll enjoy that.’

‘If – if that’s what you want, Master, then I would not be opposed – ’

Obi-Wan went down on his knees and placed a palm over Anakin’s mouth; he felt him squeak in surprise. Anakin’s hands fell away from his face, revealing wide, trusting eyes. ‘No more speaking, dear one. Lift your head up.’ He sat down on the sofa with Anakin’s head on his lap. Obi-Wan brushed aside a few wayward strands of his hair. ‘Good. This is what we’ll do, Anakin.’

‘What?’ asked Anakin, teeth sinking into his lower lip.

Smiling down fondly at him, Obi-Wan placed a hand on his solar plexus. ‘We’ll breathe together.’

The pout came back. ‘That’s meditation, Master,’ he pointed out.

‘For tonight, we’ll call it breathing. Close your eyes, Anakin. Go to your happy place.’

‘What if I’m already there?’ asked Anakin, lips curling up, dimple winking.

Oh, this boy will be the death of him. ‘Then the rest will be easy.’

Meanwhile, in Spy!USUK
  • Arthur, speaking in code: The laundry is out of the basket.
  • Alfred: Washer.
  • Arthur: Excuse me?
  • Alfred: The code is: 'The laundry is out of the washer'.
  • Arthur: You know what I mean!
  • Alfred: This is a delicate mission!
  • Arthur: Fine! The laundry is out of the FUCKING washer!
  • Alfred:
  • Arthur:
  • Arthur: I'll tell you when it's in the dryer.
Coming Soon.....

Steve closed his eyes for a brief moment. He knew this moment would come, where they had to face what was going on. Steve got called back to active duty and he and his team were signed up for a delicate mission. Steve was excited. A part of him would always be in love with this job, this adrenaline rush and the unknown danger, that kept his system on alert as if he was on drugs 24/7. But this time it was different. He never loved a person as much as he loved Danny. His yearning for his man would kill him, and the SEAL in him was going to switch this part off. He had to fulfill a mission. He had to be focused and there wasn’t room for any sort of distraction. He wanted to come back to Danny alive. Steve would never tell Danny any of these thoughts. He had a hard time already watching Danny getting more quiet and cranky because Steve’s departure drew nearer with every passing day. There was only one week left.


Omen trailer and Prompto?

For a time now something else also bothered me. Prompto being part of the group. Like don’t get me wrong, I LOVE Prompto but that said, his presence was rather strange. They are not on a fun road trip however it may look like one. That was a serious undercover operation carried out on enemy’s territory even before Insomnia fell. Both Ignis and Gladio are great fighters and make perfect companions for such dangerous and delicate mission. Prompto on the other hand… is not. He isn’t like terrible but essential to the secret mission he is not and his position of a “friend” always grappled with my understanding of the premise.    

But now, it all makes sense! (2) 

Many people have already pointed out, the Omen trailer basically shows how things go to shit if Noctis tries to brave the journey alone. Thus the words Regis told them “I don’t ask you to guide my son, but to stay by his side”. He saw how bad it can get if Noct is left alone with his demons. So he appointed these people who are close to him to not just convoy him to Altissia but to keep him connected to humanity. And looking at it this way, makes Prompto THE MOST IMPORTANT companion. He is Sam to Noct’s Frodo! There are stronger and wiser ones but he is a heart and the soul of the group that will help Noct carry the burden when it will threaten to crash him. I’m so emotional about it right now. Gawd I want this game right now.

I felt like I already let it go, but the video “How Captain America: Civil War Should Have Ended” messed with me again.

Are people even serious on the notion only Tony needs accountability and oversight?

Wanda doesn’t need oversight, when she was the one to trigger Tony’s fears, when she was the one to literally mind-control the Hulk to send him on Johannesburg out of clear malicious intent? When she was the one to help Ultron further his plans and destroy the Avengers and she stopped only because she didn’t want the world to die, not because she gave a f/ck about Avengers? When she is inexperienced and she doesn’t control her powers, which are immense, fully, and she is sent on actual field mission, which ends in a disaster, because she still can’t cope with her powers?

Keep reading

like ships in the night (you keep passing me by)

To my beautiful (outside and in) @spartanguard. I hope you have a lovely birthday full of everything you deserve (which is a whole lot!). This fic is for you but it doesn’t really express how much I love and appreciate you!!!!!!

Enchanted Forest AU-Princess Emma does a reverse Cinderella and meets a Captain in a tavern instead of a Prince at a ball. A one-shot (for now? might do another chapter)
3.5k | T | FF.net | AO3

Princess Emma’s deerskin slippers made no sound as she walked the darkened street. Up on the hill over looking the port town the imposing and elegant walls of the castle glowed with the light of hundreds of fires and candles. She imagined she could hear the music and laughter of her farewell ball spilling out with the light even though it was impossible at this distance. From this distance the castle looked more like the model in her long abandoned nursery. For a moment she wished to be the young carefree Princess in that nursery and not a woman of twenty-four tasked with a delicate diplomatic mission.

She tore her eyes from the castle and settled them on the mostly empty streets trying to decide which direction would offer her the most distraction. After a few moments consideration she turned toward the harbor and the dockside taverns. She had escaped the castle to enjoy a night of anonymity and freedom before the months of scrutiny and obligation began and sailors seemed the least likely to recognize her. It had been years since she had snuck away from her duties and even longer since she had ventured to the port town instead of one of the closer castle villages.

Dressing up as a peasant had been the game of her youth. Escaping her bodyguards, getting drunk, kissing a village boy, winning a game of chance, and making friends had all felt so freeing and exciting; adventures that proved she was no longer a child. Those small adventures were eventually eclipsed by her diplomatic travels, actual dangers and other hard learned lessons. The palace became her refuge not a place to escape.

Except tonight in the press of people congratulating her and wishing her happiness and safety in her journey she had once again felt that suffocating trapped feeling. The need to escape was overwhelming. She had slipped from the ball room, through the kitchens and the secret service tunnel where miraculously one of her old peasant gowns had still waited.

She tugged at the gown now as she walked closer to the docks and the forest of masts in the harbor. It didn’t quite fit in the chest, her breasts spilling out a bit more than she was used to in her royal gowns, and the material was rougher than she remembered. She ran her hands down her skirt ensuring that the dagger was still discreetly hidden and pulled her long golden hair over her chest.

The streets near the dockside taverns were dotted with people. Drunken shouts and songs echoed along with moaning from various alleyways. It felt alive and raw in a way Emma had forgotten existed and she smiled; this was just what she needed.

The tight coil in her shoulders loosened as she pushed open the door of the “Royal Swan” Light, warmth, noise, and the smell of beer greeted her. She glanced over the room. There was not a uniform in sight and the men looked rough but not dangerous. There was a generous amount of women some serving drinks others glued to the sides of men. Emma wondered how many were there for a free drink and some fun and how many were working and if it really mattered either way.

The place felt just on the margin of safe and dangerous. She locked eyes with a brunette bar maid who gave her a nod and came her way after dropping off a tankard.

“You looking to work?”

Emma shook her head. “Just for a good time.” She was careful to elongate her vowels and disguise the precise diction that would immediately identify her as not belonging.

The woman gave her an assessing look and a short nod. “Well there are plenty men here willing to show you a good time.” A loud burst of laughter caused them both to turn toward the table in the back. Emma caught her breath.

A dark haired man dressed entirely in black leather sat sandwiched between two women. He laughed as two large men stood from their table throwing gold coins down.

“Thanks for playing mates,” he called as the women collected the coins from the table for him. His smile and swagger stirred something in Emma, the excitement of a challenge or maybe just raw physical attraction.

“What about him?” she asked.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

2, Killugon

Thanks, anon ! I’m still not used to write these boys, haha.

2 … moaning the other’s name

“Food” was the first thing that popped up in Killua’s brain when Bisky announced them that they had the whole afternoon free to do whatever they wanted. And at the moment where he met Gon’s eyes, he knew that, once again, he had made the right choice to become his friend. They were decided to find the best ice-cream in the whole island. A very delicate mission that they would be glad to work for, with a full enthusiasm.

“Oh, look, there is bits of cookie in this one ? Should we try ?”

“This is the first one we try, I’m sure there are others with different flavours !”

“But aren’t you going to pick chocolate as always ?”

Well, Gon wasn’t wrong, and even if Killua managed to convince him to look around, they ended up coming back to Frozen Delice where they ordered half of the menu, including all the ice-creams with cookies in it ( Killua was actually pretty curious about that )

Killua barely had the time to go to the bathroom : when he came back, their table was covered with so many bowls that the waiter even had to pile up some of them to make them all fit.

“Hey, look, it was quick, they already served us everything !” Gon said, smiling at his friend who was going back to their table. “You should really try this one !” He brought his spoon to his mouth, engulfing the desert without any grace, and his eyes suddenly widened : “Oh, Killua, that’s really good” he moaned.

As soon as these words were out of his stupid mouth, Killua - one of the best assassin of his age, known for his agility, speed and precision - tripped on his own feet, hitting his head against the table.

It hurt like hell, and tears blurred his vision for a few seconds, though he wondered if falling into a coma would have been less humiliating than having a panicked Gon to join him on the floor, his stupid spoon in his hand, and some ice-cream on the corner of his lips.

“Are you okay, Killua ?” Gon asked, pronouncing his name in a normal way, which Killua was very grateful for.

“I’m fine” he mumbled back, starting to feel really embarrassed by the whole thing. “It was nothing, I’ll get a bump, nothing more.”

Gon looked at his forehead before nodding and held up his spoon in the air, all gentle smile and caring eyes.

“Do you need some ice or something ?” he asked him.

Killua almost laughed at that, and Gon seemed very happy with himself. He grabbed one of the bowl on the table and they shared cookies-filled ice-cream there, on the floor, until the waiter came to dislodge them.

Semi NSFW meme

Dear Gus,

We knew we would see Lance and his wife, Tammy, again, but we had no idea we would see them less than two weeks after we left their house in Indiana. I’ve been on the very delicate (solo) mission of bringing Lance into our family ever since it was made clear to me two months ago that he started his life with us, even if just briefly, before he was adopted by another family.

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How M met 00qad

The lovely @cassellate gifted us with Tanner’s reaction so, here I am with Mallory

-M is ready to swear on his own blood that James Bond will drive him to an early death: the agent can’t be helped to avoid causing diplomatic incidents and mayhem wherever he goes (which could be more manageable if Q didn’t give him exploding gadgets just because he likes to watch a nice explosion).

- On the other hand there’s Alex Turner, the perfect and straightforward agent; M is always relieved when a particularly delicate mission is given to him - it’s such a shame that 007 and the Quartermaster can be such bad influences on him.

- M loves Q, who doesn’t? Even their enemies would coo at him if they got to meet him; Q is always wearing such soft cardigans, his hair are adorable mess, he constantly blabbers about his cats, he truly cares about the agents entrusted to his guidance and the glee with which he types an algorithm or invents some new gadgets is endearing. It’s a misleading appearance because M knows how ruthless and coldblooded his Quartermaster can be.

- When he reads about a Danny Holt in the paperwork he made them turn in to make their relationship official, M almost cries (he swallowed a couple of tumblers filled to the brim with whiskey instead) because the idea of another one of them running around is a serious cause of concern.

- He meets Danny for the first time while he’s going to talk to Q; M can’t believe his luck when he sees the young man walking in front of him but immediately turns on alert as HD notices the man looks lost and is nowhere near enough as confident as Q. When he’s politely asked the directions to Q-branch by the stranger, M is ready to cuff him and throw him in a holding cell.

- Luckily, James is on his way to Q-branch and immediately goes for him, asking what the hell was he doing down there while patting him down carefully in search of any injuries and glaring at M.

- M has an headache: how is it possible that James, Alex and Q had managed to snatch someone as quiet and harmless as Danny? (he just wanted to bring Q some cupcakes and make sure he ate them, how cute he is?)

- M is enchanted by Danny’s ability to make the most efficient and pigheaded workers in MI6 obey to his words: James readily does whatever he’s told in order to be rewarded with a smile that could lit a thousand suns; Alex’s cold mask seeps away to reveal his humanity as he listens to Danny’s ramblings; Q actually eats without much complaining and let himself be petted by those clumsy fingers.

- M wants to have Danny on hand every day to tame those three but they snarl at him when the proposal leaves his lips.

- Danny is M’s favorite.

anonymous asked:

Read your kylo ren post and really agreed with most of it. I was wondering, however, how you differentiate him from whiny prequel Anakin (like in episode 2)? I mean obviously circumstances were different and such, but we also see Anakin being a huge whiner so obviously Kylo definitely gets that from his grandfather lol. If this makes sense.

Well, the thing is, as much as Anakin is a teenage brat in episode 2 (which overall imho is the weakest of the prequels), that’s not where his conversion to the dark side happens.

Yes, we see him bitching about Obi-Wan and his dislike of sand (which somehow works as a romantic line on Padme because… you know what, let’s not even go there; hire a script polisher, George) and feeling stifled by the Jedi Council and not allowed to do what he wants because he’s 19 and clearly knows everything and yadda yadda yadda. If that was the moment when Anakin BECAME dark, then yes, he’d essentially be Kylo.

But it’s not. We see whiny teenage Anakin facing the fact that his mother has been kidnapped and tortured, and he commits a dark act trying to SAVE her (whereas Ren does you know what when it comes to facing down his estranged parent). The fact that it’s murdering an entire village of Sand People is heavy-handed because, well, as I said, the overall stylistics and scripts of the prequels are clear in intent but clumsy in execution, but the point is, Anakin still commits his first evil act out of love. I reblogged this post recently about how the prequels could have been so much more and done so much better and driven their tragedy home so much more poignantly with just a little more sophisticated rework, subtlety, and narrative structure, but that’s still secondary for now. The point is, the actions of whiny teenage Anakin and whiny mentally-teenage Kylo are not equivalent. They do not do the same things in this circumstance.

Next, by the time Anakin actually does start going dark, in Revenge of the Sith, it’s shown that he’s grown up from his whiny self. In the cartoon series, as far as I know, he has an apprentice and has become a full-fledged Jedi. He’s a respected war hero and he and Obi-Wan have become very close and trusted to carry out the Republic’s most delicate missions in the ongoing conflict. He’s married to Padme, he deals pretty well all things considered with the “yo I’m preggo” bombshell she drops on him when he gets back from rescuing Palpatine, he’s made himself into a – if still pretty emotionally stunted, at least respectable and admired and competent adult. It’s a bit sad (as is usually the case with prequel canon) that the Clone Wars were supposedly created entirely by Palpatine as a way to destroy the Jedi (there have to be more economic ways to do this, dude) because that’s not how wars work, and not even how evil masterminds like Palpatine do their business. But anyway, by the time ROTS rolls around, Palpatine is literally the only person who is really willing to validate Anakin’s fears and emotions and his attachment to Padme and his uncertainty about their future. The Jedi are still totally committed to the “we don’t have attachments lmao” company line, and even Obi-Wan, who is probably the person who loves Anakin most in the world and vice versa, is still beholden to them and mistrustful of Palpatine and denying Anakin’s right to find any emotional solace there. Obviously he’s right to think Palpatine is up to no good, but just a few tweaks of this would have made the distinctions between good and evil much less clear and much more troubling and compelling. Then again, that’s not the story Star Wars goes in for. The goodies are good, the baddies are bad. Anakin is the only character who has ever legitimately crossed from one side to the other and then back to good, and that’s why it’s sad that his arc didn’t get handled as well as it should have been.

So anyway, by the time Anakin DOES fall to the dark side, he’s long past the point where Ren is now. He doesn’t fall because he’s a whiny teenager; he falls because the tragedy is that this phenomenally gifted, emotionally stunted, deeply passionate ex-slave is given a choice of Door A (Jedi) or Door B (Sith), and neither of them fits who he is at the time he encounters them. He doesn’t become a Sith because he had a falling-out with Obi-Wan and never forgave him when he was a teenager; by the time of their final duel on Mustafar, it’s the breaking point for what has been building in their relationship this entire time, the fact that they love each other so much but they just don’t see eye to eye and they never will.  Same with him and Padme. THAT is the tragedy of Anakin’s downfall. He has come so far and fought and faced and been so much and had so many expectations placed on him, but in the end, he breaks because he’s not going to choose to give up love. Even when it has been twisted beyond any recognition and everything he’s doing has turned evil as a result, because he just is too scared to let go.

Ren on the other hand: Nope. I can’t imagine, as I’ve seen theorized in places, that Luke would try to send his teenage nephew in as a spy on Snoke, without telling Han and Leia about it, and then realize something went wrong when Ren actually went dark. As I said, he’s had every single opportunity to avoid Anakin’s mistakes. He’s never been placed in a situation comparable to Anakin’s. He’s what Darth Vader would have been if whiny Anakin was who turned into a Sith, but since that’s not the case, he’s just a brat. Anakin had basically nobody who was willing to fully listen and validate his struggle; Obi-Wan and Palpatine both had their own agendas when it came to him, and Padme’s role in episode 3 was reduced to crying, having babies, and dying. Ren had Han and Leia and Luke and Chewie and plenty of other people who clearly loved him and were willing to help. It’s also why I’m pissed that, despite the fact that they needed him to be the new Obi-Wan/Yoda in hiding on remote planet after apprentice turned to the Dark Side, Luke’s role was so minimal (and we were cheated of any possibility of an onscreen Han-Luke reunion). Am I really supposed to believe that after fighting so hard for his father, helping Vader see the light, understanding the tragedy of his life and realizing that own impulse in himself, Luke’s reaction after Ren went bad was to abandon his sister and brother-in-law, refrain from training any more Jedi, go into hiding while the First Order took over the galaxy, and just… kinda sit on Skellig Michael until Rey showed up to find him? Because that really weakens HIS character and motivations as well, in addition to what they did with Han and Leia.

So I think that’s at the core of why Ren doesn’t work for me. He’s not a case of whiny prequel Anakin, because whiny prequel Anakin isn’t who becomes Darth Vader. He’s a disappointment as the offspring of two legendary characters and my all-time OTP, he’s the reason the story was forcibly reverted back to square one, he makes Han, Leia, and Luke behave in a way I find manufactured and cheap for added story drama, and that’s in addition to the issues I outlined with him in my last post. If your hope to redeem/work out your story is that “the sequel(s) will fix it,” then there’s something wrong with how it started in the first place.

anonymous asked:

is there actually going to be a delicate mission or was That just a way for Judy and Jack to meet?

I am sincere: both. Jack has to be introduced in some way, then the mission is surely a pretext. but don’t worry, @aoimotion and I will give it a sense.