oops gave myself feelings

see, i love “darth jar jar” or darth yoda” or whoever theories, because star wars is terrible but

what if

everyone was secretly a sith. yoda? sith for centuries, hiding in plain sight. mace? the vapaad was a coverup for when he accidentally slipped up and used the dark side noticeably. qui-gon? why do you think he was so interested in bringing balance to the force. padme is a sith lady, as all queens of naboo have been and will be since time immemorial, which is why kings of naboo never really work out too well, and she is going to be so pissed when she figures out what sidious was trying to do to her husband (anakin, of course, is not secretly a sith. he’s legitimately trying to be a jedi. it’s not his fault he’s kind of oblivious and also being taught how to jedi by a bunch of people who are not terribly clear on the concept themselves. he means well, mostly.)

and then everyone’s decisions during the clone wars start to make a lot more sense, if you imagine everyone going “okay, i know how i want to react, but what would a Good Guy do in this situation?” and then coming to the conclusion that the answer is always “the stupidest thing possible”. except obi-wan. obi-wan is just. just really tired, you guys. obi-wan will make better life choices after he’s had a few years to sleep (false: obi-wan will never ever make better life choices) obi-wan has been raising the chosen one and keeping a massive secret from everyone, including the chosen one, and trying to make the galaxy a little tidier (because there’s evil and then there’s irresponsible), and now he has an entire legion of people to look after and keep secrets from and do his best to protect (because yoda may not have known what he was doing, giving obi-wan the 212th, but these men belong to obi-wan now and no one else is allowed to touch them, except maybe anakin sometimes.)

(yoda was mostly thinking that it had been too long since there was a major galactic war, and wasn’t it nice if suspiciously timed that he had an army now, right when he needed one, and if war didn’t make his great-grand-padawan fall so yoda could finally have someone interesting to talk to/fight with/plot against, he didn’t know what would. seriously, he’s tried everything else, and it’s starting to get ridiculous, how properly jedi obi-wan is.)

my favorite forgery is prokopenko.

embyrr922  asked:

Could you do POV for Detachment Studies? :D?

(Detachment Studies)

Holster’s very aware of how Ransom feels about soulmates.Holster respects and encourages Ransom in his pursuit of detachment studies, and assures him on a near-weekly basis that he’s totally cool with Ransom going away when the time comes. In related news, Holster is the biggest hypocrite and the worst friend in the entire world.

Because he does not want to let go of Ransom.

He knows it from the first. This is a kind of chemistry he’s never felt before – it’s all the joy of camaraderie, like he felt for his teammates in juniors, plus a kind of invisible sizzle that keeps their conversation flowing and their vibe light and loose and happy. Being with Ransom is kind of like getting high, only instead of getting fuzzy everything gets sharper, clearer. Everything gleams and the world is a fucking fantastic place because Ransom’s there and he’s with Holster and together they can do anything.

Why on earth would he want to lose that? Why would he even be okay with losing it?

Keep reading

Max’s Stuff

We all know what happened to Max’s jacket and car, but what happened to everything else?

I kind of headcanon that every time Max comes back to the Citadel to stock up on supplies, he notices more and more of his gear being worn by random Free Boys. His old hat here, a pair of goggles there…

He comes across a group of Pups fighting over who gets to listen to what he recognizes as his beat-up Walkman. And then a few days later a Milking Mothers passes him in a corridor who’s made a poncho out of a blanket that he used to wrap himself up in on the coldest nights in the Wasteland.

Then one day he goes looking for a bit of scrap metal for a project, and he comes across a room filled with junk and finds parts of his collection of little trinkets or personal items mixed in there that were deemed worthless by the intake sorters.

Little pieces of himself and his past, scattered in every direction.

The Argument: Part 5

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

I have never felt so bad in my entire life. The hurt look in his eyes, the way his bottom lip quivered slightly and the fact that he’s avoiding all physical contact made me feel like a terrible person. “I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of the thought of you,” I facepalmed immediately. That sounded a lot better in my head.

Liam laughed bitterly. “Was that supposed to make me feel better?” he asked. “I didn’t mean it like that,” I tried to hold his hand but he refused to let me touch him. “Then what did you mean? I want to know if it makes sense to try to be friends with you and hurt myself like that when all I want is to be with you. I don’t want to be just friends. I want to be able to kiss you and cuddle and call you mine but I’ve been sacrificing my feelings for yours, only to find out that you’re scared of interacting with me?” I felt even worse.

“This is so embarrassing,” I put my head in my hands and let out a long sigh. “Liam. I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of what you do to me and before you get even more upset let me explain. I, um, you make me feel things okay? You make my stomach do backflips, my head spin and my heart race. You make me want to go on adventures and jump off cliffs into the sea, fully clothed. You make me want to sneak out of the house at 1am to come find you and cuddle under the stars. You make me want to be everything my parents wouldn’t want me to be. You make me want to be free. And freedom is a scary thing, Li,”

I looked up at him. His smile was infectious. “Are you laughing at me Dunbar? I just spilled my heart out to you and you’re laughing?” he smirked and I leaned back onto the floor with my hands over my face, groaning. “I make you wanna be bad huh?” I felt his presence hovering over my body and slowly moved my hands away from my eyes. “Maybe,” I mumbled, his face inches from mine, blue eyes piercing into my own.

His muscular arms on either side of my body, I couldn’t help myself. I grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him down, making contact. My sudden actions caused him to almost fall over and I giggled into the kiss. “I missed this,” I mumbled onto his lips. “I missed you,”

“Hey Y/N! Do- GUYS I THINK SHE’S BUSY,” Lydia’s voice interrupted us. “Oh hey Lydia, I’m good. I’ll call you later,” “Mhmm,” she nodded, smacking her lips together and walking off. “NO SEX!” Stiles yelled. “No promises!” Liam responded and I smacked him playfully. “You’re gonna get us in trouble,” I laughed when the sound of our friends gasping and wolf whistles erupted from my living room. “Isn’t that what you wanted?” and he connected our lips again.

i gave myself some feels with this one oops. should I do more after this or start a new story? i think im good with this as the ending but im up for suggestions. just tell me what you want to happen or i’ll leave it right here.

anonymous asked:

FIC REQUEST: fluffy!kabby shower fic

Her hair was so much darker when it was wet. Longer, too: it reached nearly all the way to her waist. Marcus ran careful fingers through the saturated strands, watching the way they clung to their brethren until the last moment. 

He’d started near the middle, but with each pass through her hair his hand reached higher, until he was running his fingers over the curve of her scalp. 

Abby hummed in appreciation and tipped her head back. Marcus smiled. 

“It’s gotten so long,” he mused.

Abby cracked one eye open to look at him. “I bet I could braid yours.”

He chuckled. Abby turned to face him, and the hair that was still in his fingers was pulled over her shoulder. 

“You might like it,” Abby continued. She slipped slim arms around his waist and pressed them together under the warm spray of water. “Keep it out of your face. It’s very economical.” 

“I’m sure it is,” Marcus murmured. He kissed her, lazy and sweet, and grinned against her lips when she pushed a hand into his wet hair. “But then you wouldn’t be able to do that.”

“Good point.”

Abby sighed in contentment. She tucked her nose in against his collarbone and breathed in the faint, lingering scent of soap that clung to his skin. She closed her eyes. 

Marcus held her to him tightly with the arm draped around her waist. He cradled the back of her head with his other hand, the water hot on the back of his hand and her hair damp and smooth against his palm. 

Abby’s hands shifted on his back, sliding up a little farther, and Marcus smiled against her ear. He could feel the cooler, more rigid strips of metal that stood out against her hand. 

Abby had three rings now: one she wore on a chain around her neck, to remember; one on her right hand, for the past; and one on her left hand, for the future. 

(Abby had started to take them off once, Jake’s rings, when Marcus had held up the thin silver band he’d meant for her.

”Don’t take them off,” he’d said. “I don’t want to eclipse the past, Abby. I just want a chance to be part of the future, if you’ll let me.”

And when Abby, incapable of speech, had simply nodded her agreement, Marcus had slipped his band over the third finger of her right hand. 

She’d cried - in gratitude, or love, or something else (Marcus had never discovered) - and switched it to her left hand on the spot. They’d made love until the morning light bathed them in long fingers of molten gold.

There was no ceremony, no holy words to be delivered or friends to bear witness. There was only this: a breathless moment where Clarke looked from her father’s ring around Abby’s neck, to his ring now on her right hand, to the new one on her left; wide blue eyes full of tears as Clarke hugged Marcus like she’d never hugged him before and whispered a choked, heartfelt thank you in his ear.

And that was all the affirmation they needed.)


Seb sometimes has nightmares, where he thrashes so hard he tangles himself in the sheets and wakes up feeling suffocated.

The first time it happens, he sits bolt upright, to find a pale Jim watching him awkwardly from the door, a softly spoken ‘I didn’t know what to do’ offered by way of apology. Seb breathes a laugh, forehead sweaty, and gestures for Jim to come back to bed. He buries his face into Jim’s neck and seeks comfort from the mere presence of a live body beside him.

The next time he has a nightmare, he wakes up with his hand being held against a steadily beating heart, and falls back asleep before the screams even have a chance to leave his throat.

favvnsongs  asked:

ololol omfg clarke thinking that lexa's dead and really she's f i n e okay but like. clarke is absolute distress. inconsolable. barging into lexa's room and this hoe is sitting on her bed having breakfast tea and muffins like 'hi?? what're you doing? omg clarke hon bae sugarplumps calm the fu - oh..h okay i guess we're hugging. there goes my breakfast. yes hello i missed you too.' and then clarkes kissing her, and just, sobbing, but lexa's all 'much as this kissing is nice what's your issue???'

lmao lexa being a total confused puppy the whole time and she’s like, ??? “um??” and her first thought is like, okay the kissing is nice and all but “who died???” and clarke just, “YOU” and lexa’s like “as far as i’m aware i’m still breathing? clarke, have you been eating questionable plants again?” and imagine clarke sort of cry-laughing because lexa is just so pure and wholesome and so her and she just… “we got word that–that something happened. i thought–” 

and lexa being like, “clarke. surely you know by now; i am not that easy to kill.” then, “even when i die, my spirit will find you.” 

“i don’t want to hear anything about death right now,” clarke says, and she just commandeers lexa’s breakfast and plops herself right in lexa’s lap and she’s like, “let’s just live for a while, okay?” 

“for as long as you want me, clarke, i’m here.” 

“forever,” clarke just mumbles into lexa’s neck, because, frankly, it’s still new but she’s so emotional still she can’t hold it back but she also can’t bring herself to say it directly to lexa’s face. ‘forever’ isn’t so far away from another three-syllable phrase, one she feels but isn’t quite ready to say yet. 

and lexa just chuckles, and she wraps clarke up in her arms and just holds her. “i’ll see what i can do about that.” 

Love is about Acceptance - Liam Dunbar Imagine

Staring at my reflection I sighed. I wore nothing but a bra and undies and I stood there picking out all my flaws. My thighs are huge. Stretch marks, my oh my the stretch marks. My stomach isn’t flat. My hair won’t stay down. Scars on my leg from wrestling and races with my siblings. And don’t get me started on my face.

I was about to start picking out my facial flaws when my phone rang. It was Liam. “Hi,” I mumbled. “Hey beautiful,” I scoffed. “What’s wrong baby girl?” “Nothing,” I muttered. My bedroom door opened and Liam stood there looking upset. I instinctively wrapped my arms around my stomach and began moving toward the door of my bathroom but he was too quick.

“I heard the things you were saying about yourself,” he placed his hands over mine and moved them slowly, allowing him to take in all the marks and unflattering parts of my body.

“Liam let me go please,” I whispered trying to pull away but he pulled me in just as fast for a hug. “How could you hate an artwork like yourself? I would trade every masterpiece in the world to have you,” he cupped my face and wiped the tears that didn’t even get the chance to fall. “How could you call me beautiful? You spend all you time with Lydia and Kira and Malia and then come back to me. How could you be in their gorgeous presence and come back to me and my below average appearance?”

Liam’s eyes widened in surprise. “Below average? Baby girl you are the most beautiful person I have ever had the privilege to meet. You friggin break the beauty scale. To hell with it! I don’t care if your broke weight scales! Your personality would’ve done enough to bring me in,” I blushed wildly and he smiled, placing a chaste kiss to my lips.

“Now come cuddle with me,” he took my hand and began heading to my bed. “Let me put on some clothes first,” he shook his head and picked me up bridal style. He rested me on the bed slowly and took off his own shirt and pants before hovering over me, smirking.

“I’m going to love you forever. Despite your weight, height, skin colour, style choices and stretch marks. I love you for you and that’s all that matters,” he leaned down and kissed me slowly. “I love you too,” I smiled as he pulled away and wrapped his arms around me, whispering his favourite things about me until we both fell asleep.

*oops I gave myself feels*