pissants

The Health Care Freedom Act: A Transcript

INT. SENATE FLOOR - NIGHT

SEN. MCCONNELL addresses the august body.

SEN. MCCONNELL
Okay, idiots. We’ve had seven years of the Obamacare hellscape, which, as everyone agrees, has ruined our country, killed jobs, slaughtered animals, and set the Bible on fire. But now the GOP is in charge – and it’s time for this national nightmare of “sick people being able to maybe not die or go bankrupt” to end.

SEN. SCHUMER
Okay, you’ve been talking about a replacement bill for eight years. Let’s see what you got.

SEN. CORNYN
Whoa whoa whoa – you’re being a little “pushy” there, Chuck.

SEN. SCHUMER
That’s usually code for “Jewish.”

SEN. CORNYN
Nobody said “Jewish.” I said “pushy.” You’re being pushy, is what I said. Don’t put words in my mouth. Anyway: read it and weep: the American Freedom Bald Eagle Old Glory Healthcare for Everyone with No Exceptions “It’s Gonna Be So Easy” Act.

SEN. WARREN
…Where is it? We haven’t seen it yet. Can we see it?

SEN. MCCONNELL
No.

SEN. JOHNSON
A little history for you: when the Democrats wrote “Obummercare” –

SEN. MCCONNELL
(chuckles)
Nice.

They high-five.

SEN. JOHNSON
– they did it in secret, in scarcely 16 months, behind closed doors, with not even 100 Republican amendments, and barely 70 public hearings.

SEN. MCCONNELL
Like you can craft anything good in 16 months!

SEN. CORNYN
In contrast to that undemocratic process, we, the GOP, spent literally dozens of minutes crafting this, over chicken caesar wraps and Arnold Palmers, earlier today in the senate dining room.

SEN. MCCONNELL
Enough talking. We’ve been discussing this bill for almost eight minutes. Time to vote.

SEN. WARREN
Can we see the bill?

SEN. MCCONNELL
No.

SEN. SCHUMER
Can we offer amendments?

SEN. MCCONNELL
No.

SEN. WYDEN
Can we have public hearings?

SEN. MCCONNELL
No. Go back to Oregon, you dirty hippie.

SEN. COLLINS
I’m voting no, Mitch. This bill is terrible.

SEN. MURKOWSKI
I’m voting no too. It’s an abomination.

SEN. MCCONNELL
(shakes his head sadly)
Broads. Look, I know the bill is miserable. It would crash the insurance markets immediately. But who cares? This is just symbolic. This bill isn’t going to be a law. We’re just doing it to initiate a conference with the House, so we can actually pass a real bill later.

SEN. JOHNSON
I just got a text from Paul Ryan. The House might just pass this bill.

SEN. MCCONNELL
They might pass it?! Why the hell would they pass this bill we are about to pass?!

SEN. GRAHAM
(fanning himself)
This bill is abhorrent. It’s absurd, I say. I shudder to think what would happen if it became an actual law!

SEN. SCHUMER
So how will you vote?

SEN. GRAHAM
Oh I’m voting “yes.”

SEN. CAPITO
This bill would devastate the people of West Virginia!

SEN. PORTMAN
It would ruin lives! My own governor hates it!

SEN. SCHUMER
You’re both voting for it, though, right?

SEN. PORTMAN
Oh yeah.

SEN. CAPITO
No question. Voting “yes.”

SEN. HARRIS
Can we read the bill now?

SEN. MCCONNELL
No. Any word from Ryan?

SEN. CRUZ
I’ve been texting him a lot. No word. Oh – hang on, he’s writing back…I see the little bubbles.

SEN. MCCONNELL
What’d he say?

SEN. CRUZ
“New phone, who dis?” Guess I have the wrong number.

SEN. MCCONNELL
No, that’s his number. It’s just: nobody likes you.

SEN. JOHNSON
Ryan just texted me. I asked him if he could guarantee the House wouldn’t just pass our bill.

SEN. MCCONNELL
What’d he say?

SEN. JOHNSON
(reading)
“Look, this is complicated. This stuff gets a little wonky – I don’t want to bore you with the nerdy, wonky details. I’m kind of a policy geek, so I kind of get down in there with the nitty-gritty stuff, that other people are bored by, because they’re not policy geeks like me.”

SEN. MCCONNELL
…He didn’t answer your question.

SEN. CRUZ
(checking Johnson’s phone)
Let me see what number you have for him…yeah, that’s the same number I have. Weird.

SEN. MCCONNELL
It’s not weird. No one likes you.

SEN. GRAHAM
(lying on fainting couch)
My fellow members of this most august body, don’t you see we are headed for a disaster? This bill cannot pass! It would upend generations of Senatorial norms and procedure, and devastate the very fabric of American society!

SEN. SCHUMER
Still voting for it, though?

SEN. GRAHAM
Oh yeah, still a solid “yes.”

SEN. MURKOWSKI
I’m still a “no,” by the way.

SEN. COLLINS
Me too.

SEN. MCCONNELL
No one cares, ladies. Go get your hair blown out or whatever.

SEN. HARRIS
Can we read the bill now?

SEN. MCCONNELL
(angry)
No! Why are there all these women haranguing me?! How many goddamned women are in the Senate now, 95?!

SEN. WARREN
Twenty.

SEN. MCCONNELL
Seems like 95. Look: no one gets to read the bill. It’s not a real bill! It’s not supposed to become a law!

SEN. JOHNSON
What if the House just passes it?

SEN. MCCONNELL
Call that little pissant Paul Ryan and tell him they better not!

SEN. JOHNSON
(dials)
Paul? It’s Ron Johnson. You better not pass this bill that we are about to pass, because we don’t want it to pass, even though we are gonna pass it!

SEN. MCCONNELL
What’d he say?

SEN. JOHNSON
He said the process of passing bills is wonky, and it’s hard to explain, and he’ll try not to bore me with the wonky details.

SEN. CRUZ
Let me talk to him.
(takes phone)
Paul? It’s Ted. Listen, bud –
(beat)
Oh, sorry. Okay.
(hangs up)
It was the wrong number.

SEN. MCCONNELL
We were already talking to him, moron.

SEN. PORTMAN
No one likes you.

SEN. WARREN
Can we read the bill?

SEN. MCCONNELL
No. No more women talking. Time to vote. It’s a fake bill, and if the House passes it and all hell breaks loose, we can just blame Hillary or something.
(calling out)
Who wants to pass a fake disastrous bill that, if it became law, would cause the insurance markets to collapse, and 18 million people to immediately lose health care, but who gives a crap, because it’d be the House’s fault and no one pays attention to this stuff anyway?

49 REPUBLICANS
Yay!

48 DEMOCRATS
Nay!

SENS. MURKOWSKI AND COLLINS
Nay.

SEN. MCCONNELL
(aside)
Must be that time of the month.

SEN. CRUZ
Nice!

Cruz goes to high-five McConnell, who ignores him.

SEN. MCCONNELL
Okay, one more vote. John?

SEN. MCCAIN
I vote no.

Everyone loses their minds.

AMERICAN MEDIA
MCCAIN VOTED NO! MAVERICK! ONCE AGAIN HE DEFIES THE PARTY! HERO! NO ONE HAS EVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE THIS!

SEN. MURKOWSKI
…I voted “no” as well.

SEN. COLLINS
Yeah, Lisa and I are also Republicans who defied–

AMERICAN MEDIA
WE REPEAT: THIS IS UNPRECEDENTED! LITERALLY ONLY JOHN MCCAIN WOULD EVER DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS! PLUS HE HAS CANCER – AND HE STILL CAME HERE AND VOTED!

SEN. HIRONO
I have Stage 4 kidney cancer, and I voted –

AMERICAN MEDIA
JOHN MCCAIN JUST DID SOMETHING THAT LITERALLY NO OTHER MAN IN THE HISTORY OF AMERICA WOULD EVER DO EVER!

SEN. CRUZ
Bummer, huh guys? Anyone want to come over to my place, get some wings, watch a little “Life of Brian?” No? Rain check, then.

Flourish. Exeunt. Curtain.

nothing is more boring than seeing someone complain about how they think some inoffensive meme or joke isn’t funny anymore

all you’re doing is making people feel bad for enjoying themselves, if no one’s getting hurt then just let people have fun u fuckin pissant

10

oh, Legolas, your time will come

Thranduil Has a Type

3

That’s a coin you’d give to the King of America himself. Not some pissant bastard like your piece of shit husband. Just give me my fucking coin back!

10

False Advertising: Thranduil

For my money, Thranduil is the best option—not necessarily to kill Bolg, but to be in that helping-Thorn/parallel fight position. Because seriously, that conflict between Thorin and Thranduil needs a resolution.

Unfortunately, I suspect this never occurred to the PTB because they don’t see Thranduil as a person. More a device. And his purpose in AUJ and DOS was make Thorin look like the most put-upon underdog, who is just treated so unfairly.

But if they’d treated Thranduil like the significant supporting character that he is, developed that conflict between him and Thorin—and all it implied—then keeping Thranduil on Ravenhill (alone or with his army), provides optimal fulfillment/resolution to what came before.

Even without development, though, Thranduil going up to Ravenhill sooner just has more oomph than whatever they think they’re doing with Legolas.

2

Something I’ve never noticed before.

Watch the little grimace Bucky makes after he says, “But I knew him.” 

And then watch his expression after he says, “My name is Bucky.” 

It’s harder to see in the CACW scene because he’s looking down, but it’s the same expression.

In the bank vault, he has a question… he knew that man on the bridge. He heard the name Bucky and he felt reality as he knew it shift and he’s still trying to lock onto fleeting images in his mind, images he doesn’t know are actual memories. He only knows he wants an answer and is willing to endure pain from a beating to get it. That’s Bucky, quietly, stubbornly, adamantly refusing to be denied.

And with Zemo, Bucky knows a lot more about who he is and what he chooses to call himself, and it’s not James, at least not as this little pissant of a psychiatrist is using it. Again, that’s Bucky, quietly, stubbornly, adamantly refusing to be denied.

Seb knows this character, down to the smallest detail. 

elithien.tumblr.com
elithien.tumblr.com/post/161749986846/carasstarwarsmusings-clockwork-cameo
carasstarwarsmusings: “ clockwork-cameo: “ michellestarswept: “ darcyfitz: “ elithien: “Okay so when I was suggested to illustrate something that involved Rey at a space ball (because Vanity Fair...

This was originally meant to be a one shot based off of @elithien‘s lovely illustration. But it’s definitely got another chapter in it still to be written ;)

This is for @elithien and @michellestarswept :)

————————————

It was a lavish event.

Diplomats from multiple systems were there, as Chandrila hedged its bets looking for new alliances after the destruction of the Republic. Supreme Leader had sent him and Hux to represent the Order and to be sure the Chandrilians realized where it was their best interest to ally. A core world like them could not be overlooked, between their credits, resources, and influence over smaller systems.

He had protested, to no avail, that he had no business being involved with diplomacy. Such things were best left to people such as His. Just as meting out death was best left for those like him.

His mother may had been a princess, but he was no prince.

Yet here he was at the diplomatic ball,decked out in the finery of the First Order dress uniform. Black silk shirt with a high collar and ruffled black stock tie. The long, finely woven black coat, marked with red piping, came down past his knees. The black of the uniform contrasted to the white gloves of soft leather he wore on his hands.

And of course, no mask. He was open, vulnerable, to everyone in the room. And Gods he hated it. He had slunk to a corner of the room, leaning against the wall and glowering and drinking Corellian brandy.

Hux, on the other hand was peacocking around, chatting pleasantly as he preened himself among the affluent and powerful. Once the little pissant had come over and attempted to scold him for being “improper” and “antisocial”, insisting he come “mingle” with the other guests. He didn’t dignify the redhead with a verbal response, just glared at him in a way that said better than words what he would do if the man back the kriff off.

Draining his glass he looked around for the a server circling with trays of drinks. He was still far too sober to get through this ordeal. Scowling as he found no one nearby, he took a breath and ventured out into the crowd to find another drink. He was grabbing another brandy when he caught a few words of someone’s voice among the din, “…General Organa…”

He froze in place, closing his eyes tightly. She was here, of course she would be here. The Resistance would love to keep Chandrila among their allies. They had their own political cards to play. Holding his breath, he turned slowly and his eyes found the small woman talking to the vice-chancellor of Chandrila. So elegant, as she always had been, still royalty, still the Princess of Alderaan. Older, but still holding herself with a proud, commanding authority of a soldier and a General.

How long had it been since he had physically in the presence of his mother? His uncle had visited her once with him during the ten years he shadowed him like a dog, only a few years after she’d sent him away. He had been fifteen? Sixteen?

Did it even matter? He had been a boy still, the last time he’d been in the same room with his mother. The last time he heard her voice, they hadn’t talked over a com either since then. They had written, there was that, though he had written far more than she wrote back. Dutiful son and Jedi padawan that he had been, he wrote faithfully. She wrote back when she found the time, which, as it always had been with finding time for her family, had been rarely.

Hux swept his way towards the group surrounding the vice-chancellor, puffing himself out. He had seen Organa, he was sure. His motives for joining whatever conversations were taking place was certainly to kriff with her. It was what the little prick did best.

Why was he even still standing here? He needed to move, needed to get out of sight. If she looked over at Hux as he approached them, she would surely catch sight of him. Surely, there was nothing good that could come from her knowing he was here. Taking a step back, he began to turn when another figure stepped next to his mother.

Her. The girl. The scavenger.

He turned back, his eyes fixed on her. Her face was a bit fuller and her body had filled out, now that she no longer scrounged for meals, but still undeniably her. She was wearing a black dress, form fitting, showing off her freckled skin that had yet to lose the sun kissed tan of the desert. Her hair was full and tied up in an elaborate braid and a gold necklace hung around her neck. His mother’s– he was fairly sure he recognized it.

The last time he had seen her he had been half-dead by her hand, staring over an abyss at her as she disengaged her saber and ran. His hand reached up and traced down the scar that ran across his face. The mark she had given him.

As if acting on their own, his legs carried him over towards her. Stepping next to Hux who looked at him, a startled expression flickering across his face before he regained control. He heard his mother draw in a breath of shock, but his eyes were on the girl as her startled eyes flicked up to meet his.

He felt as lost in them as he had when he had first looked into them on Takadona.

“Vice-Chancellor, may I introduce to you Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren. So glad you joined us, Ren,” Hux’s voice oozed smoothly next to him.

He flicked his eyes away from the girl’s to shoot the man a warning look before turning and bowing slightly to the Vice-Chancellor, most of the bend in his neck. The etiquette that had been drilled into him during his youth surfacing as if it hadn’t been nearly two decades since he’d had use for such things,  “It is a pleasure to meet you, sir. We are honored to be your guests.”

The Vice-Chancellor beamed before giving a matching bow, “So few people respect proper formalities these days. We are honored to have you as our guests, and to share with you the splendor that we are able to provide.” The man turned to Organa and the girl, “General Hux, Kylo Ren, may I introduce another two of our guests, General Organa…”

Hux gave no more than a curt nod as he glared at the woman, who glanced at him with a cold glare. The Vice-Chancellor flicked his eyes over the man in disapproval.

He stepped towards his mother, woman looking up at him in surprise as he extended his hand with another short bow, “General Organa and I are acquainted,” he said. She stared at his hand, looking shocked for half a minute before slowly raising her hand to meet his. Once again following the formal etiquette for such introductions, he brought his other hand to clasp gently around the top of hers, bowing as he brought her hand up for his lips to brush a kiss across the knuckles. Feeling her hand shake in his hand at the contact. He straightened from his bow, releasing his hands for her to pull hers back. Their eyes met, hers were filled with conflict and pain. He wondered what she saw in his?

She bowed her neck to him, her voice rasped as she spoke, “Yes, we are acquainted.” Her voice broke slightly and she paused before continuing, voice smooth and under control, “Your manners are to be admired, as the Vice-Chancellor said, such formalities are ignored by many these days.”

“My mother raised me to respect such things.” He spoke matter-of-factly, no hint of vitriol in his voice, but she winced at his words anyway. Next to him Hux blew out an amused huff of air and he resisted the urge to punch him squarely in his smug, smarmy face. Not that resisting the urge to punch Hux wasn’t a daily occurrence, but it was especially strong this time.

The girl was glaring at him. He knew without even looking, he could feel them. It seemed like he could feel her anger as well. She thought he was speaking with the purpose of hurting Organa and her emotions were rising, anger flickering on the edge of rage. He had seen her rage before, as she harnessed it to rain down blows on him in unbridled fury, and it was something that was more beautiful than he could describe.

He raised his own eyes, hopefully with his own emotions calm and controlled, to meet her hazel ones. If the Vice-Chancellor was aware of the tension of emotions surrounding him, he ignored it, continuing with his introductions. “And this young lady, Miss Rey…” The Vice-Chancellor paused, clearing his throat.

“Just Rey, Vice-Chancellor,” her voice spoke politely, maybe even a little shyly. She shifted and he was suddenly sure that as well as she hid it, she was very uncomfortable. Uncomfortable in these clothes, uncomfortable surrounded by these people. She felt out of place and on display and hated every moment of it.

How exactly he knew it, he wasn’t sure. But there was no doubt in his mind, any more than there had been about her anger.

“Just Rey, yes, well,” the Vice-Chancellor nodded. “General Hux, Kylo Ren, this is Miss Rey, apprentice to Jedi Master Luke Skywalker, who was unable to join us on Chandrila.”

“Skywalker?!” Hux hissed next to him.

Apprentice… to… Skywalker. Apprentice to SKYWALKER. Apprentice to Luke Skywalker. The words echoed in his head as his mind refused to acknowledge him. The girl, this girl, the scavenger who had defeated him, who had denied his own offer to teach her, was now training under his uncle.

His uncle.

How he did not simply explode with the fury that surged through him, he would never know. The girl flinched and shrank back, as if she could sense the intensity rage that was now directed at her, though no one else around him seemed to know. He took a deep breath, forcing his emotions back under control, stepping forward to extend his hand and bowing as he had for his mother, “Forgive me for correcting you, Vice-Chancellor, but the correct term is Padawan, not Apprentice. It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Rey.” The girl just stared at him a moment before glancing at Organa who nodded briefly towards his extended hand, encouraging the girl to take it.

Slowly she extended her hand to his, and he brought his other hand over to cover it. There were callouses built across her palm and fingertips. Callouses built up from years of harsh labor. Somehow even with them her hand seemed amazingly soft to him as he bowed deeper, bringing the hand to his lips. Where he had merely brushed his lips against his mother’s hand, here he planted a true kiss across her knuckles, allowing himself to taste her skin. He could feel a vibration jolt through her as he did so, and he resisted the urge to smirk as he straightened himself and released her hand. His eyes lingering on hers, taking in the confused emotional storm within the green and brown.

Slowly she bowed her neck, mimicking his mother’s response to him. When she spoke her voice was soft and fast, unable to control the fact she would rather not be speaking the words at all, “It is nice to meet you, sir.”

He gave a small smile and nod, before leaving his eyes resting on the girl as the Vice-Chancellor led them in idle conversation. She shifted uncomfortably in his gaze, her eyes flicking over to him before darting away. After five minutes or so she excused herself, casting one last uncomfortable glance in his direction.

Draining his glass, he politely excused himself, bowing to both the Vice-Chancellor and to Organa, before slipping away. He set his empty glass on a cocktail table and tracked down another before he wandered among the crowd until he finally found her again. Hanging back and keeping his distance, he kept her in view, following her as she wandered among the wealthy and politically connected attendees, keeping to herself. Isolated while surrounded by people.

Oh, she did hate such an ordeal, hated it as much as he did.

Another thing they had in common. How was it that they could have so much in common? Was she still lonely? Did she still lay in bed at night, praying for sleep to finally take her?  Had she found comfort now under the tutelage of his uncle? Unlikely.

Did she know how much he understood her?

Asking questions like this was so unlike him, he didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the simple effect of her presence. Maybe a combination of both? She did have such an effect on him… one that he really didn’t entirely understand.

She moved about the room and he followed. It didn’t take her long to notice him, always there, always not far away. Her eyes would find him, and he could see a growing alarm at his constant presence. There eyes would meet and he would smirk, unable to help himself.

He turned to get another drink and looked up to find her gone. The little minx must had been waiting for an opportunity to bolt. Oh no, he wasn’t about to let her slip away that easily. Moving about the large ballroom, he scanned for her but she had vanished. Finishing his drink in frustration he slammed the glass down and turned to a slightly startled server to snatch another. As he did, he noticed a set of doors on the outside wall, not quite closed. His eyes fixed on them and he moved closer… a balcony perhaps?

Yes, he was certain she was out there. It was a strange thing to be certain of, there was nothing to indicate that she would be, but he was sure she was nonetheless. Walking across the room paused and grabbed a glass of Chandrilan wine with his free hand before making his way to the door, opening it quietly and slipping out silently onto the balcony and grinning as he saw her.

She was leaning against the railing, looking out on the ocean, a breeze lightly ruffling her dress. His eyes tracing down the bare skin of her arms and back, then pausing to appreciate the way her dress defined the quite lovely shape of her ass. Did she have any idea how beautiful she really was? He didn’t think so. He’d been in her mind, and beauty was not something she associated with herself.

Every muscle in her body tensed suddenly and she spun to face him, her right hand slipping into her dress to her hip. Even slightly inebriated, his eyes caught that odd motion and narrowed a moment before he grinned in realization. She saw him and snarled, “Why are you watching me?”

“You’re pleasant to watch,” he said, lightly, moving slightly closer, keeping a careful watch on where her right hand had slipped under her dress. “Are you going to pull that saber on me? That would be such a scandal, they’d talk about it in the upper echelons of Chandrilian elite for years.”

Scowling, she shook her head, slowly withdrawing her hand back into the open, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course not. You don’t have lightsaber in a concealed holster on your hip,” his eyes traced down her hip to her upper thigh, “or your thigh… where the skirt starts to flair? Yes… that’s where it would be if you had one, which I’m sure you absolutely do not.” He chuckled and winked at her, holding out the glass of wine to her.

She looked at the glass, and then at him, eyes narrowing.

“Do you have to assume everything has an ulterior motive?”

Slowly she reached out and took the glass from his hand before backing up and setting it down on the wide railing next to her. Her eyes following him as he walked to a bench along the wall and sat down, taking a sip of his brandy.

“You clean up well, little scavenger. Not to say you weren’t lovely in your desert rags, but you’re especially lovely tonight.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, when she spoke her voice was flat, “You’re drunk.”

He hummed thoughtfully a moment before he decided he was indeed past just being buzzed, “A little.” Raising his glass he bowed his head slightly to her, “I recommend it. It makes being at something like this more tolerable to people like us.” He nodded to the glass of wine, “Are you just afraid to drink anything I gave you or did uncle Luke force you to follow some ridiculous code of Jedi purity?”

“No. And my master forces nothing on me,” she snapped, picking the glass up and taking a small sip before setting it down again.

“Hmmm… who was it who forced you to come to this?”

She stared at him a moment, breaking eye contact before speaking, “No one forced me. They asked.”

He grinned, cocking his head, “Ah, so not forced but strongly encouraged. And it was my uncle and my mother.”

“Don’t call her that!” she snapped, her hands clenching into fists. Such beauty in that anger. “You have no right to refer to any of them as if they’re still family.”

“Just because you’ve endeared yourself to my family, scavenger, doesn’t make them less mine.” He waved his hand, draining his brandy, “You’ll find them disappointing you in time, if they hadn’t started already. Skywalker is too stubborn to change, and his ways will be as wrong for you as they were for me.”

There was no response, she rested her hands on the balcony railing and leaned back, refusing to look at him, “You know nothing about me.”

“I know you hate this. Hate being surrounded by these people, you feel like you don’t belong among them. And you’re right of course…” He smirked, “You hate that dress, which is a pity because you wear it so well. Hate those shoes, your feet are killing you in those heels and you feel like they hinder your mobility if you needed to protect yourself.” Her eyes turned to rest on him, expression falling flat, “You hate feeling like you have to behave yourself and watch what you say. That there are all these hidden rules of formality that you don’t know and you’re afraid you’re going to break.”

He got to his feet and walked towards her. She stood her ground, glaring at him, “You hate that you let them pressure you to come here. That you’re here just to be paraded around as a token bit of proof that Skywalker is alive and working with the Resistance.” She bit her bottom lip, he leaned forward, slipping his hands over hers on the railing, hunching to bring his face in front of hers, “You hate that you’re enjoying my company.”

She took a shaky breath, “You’re wrong.”

“Am I?” he asked, amused,

“And arrogant.”

“Oh, that one I’ll admit.”

Pulling her hands out from under his, she gave him a sharp push, forcing him a few steps back away from her, “You’re a monster who betrayed your fellow padawans and your master. Who was complicit in the murders of billions. Who slaughtered your own father in cold blood.”

Rage flickered through him and he pulled himself up tall, looking down at the girl, “You know nothing about these things.”

“Don’t I? I watched the last one with my own eyes,” her own rage began to fill her face at the memory. “He was my friend.”

He shook his head with a snort, “You knew him for a kriffing day. I had my entire lifetime to know what a pathetic failure he was as a father, husband, and even as a person. He would have disappointed you in the end. You should thank me for sparing you from that by killing him.”

The speed at which she moved startled him. One moment she was still against the railing, the next her hand was cracking across his cheek forcefully, rocking his head back. He looked down at her face, contorted in rage as she pointed a finger at him, “Don’t you dare speak to me again. Don’t you dare follow me anymore. I don’t care about making a scene, if you don’t leave me the kriff alone I’ll carve the other side of your face to give you a matching scar.”

Despite the sting of her blow, he grinned, “You’re so beautiful when you cloak yourself in anger. So un-Jedi-like. Your master would be disappointed in you, little padawan.”

She hissed and whirled to leave, but he snatched her arm above the elbow and spun her back towards him forcefully. His grip holding firm as she tried to pull herself free. With a sharp jerk he pulled her against him, slamming her into his chest. Her eyes flashed dangerously and she bared her teeth in a fierce snarl. Leaning forward, grazing his mouth against her ear as he spoke softly, “Your fool of a master would disapprove, but not I. I recognize power for what it is; I do not pretend it is some sort of weakness.”

He release her and she jerked away from him. Backing cautiously as her eyes flashed at him dangerously. “Stay away from me,” she said, the breathy tone of her voice giving away the raging storm of emotion within.

With a sharp turn she stormed away, going back inside. His eyes drifting down to watch her ass as she went.

Sighing, he sat back down on the bench, letting her go for now. She needed some time to cool off. He would give her a little… just a little.

He glanced down at his lap, where the bulge of his half-erect cock was effectively hidden by the long coat of his dress uniform. Snorting in amusement, he shook his head,it seemed he needed a little time to cool off too.

Chuckling, he leaned back, resting his head against the wall. He wondered if that silly girl really thought they were done yet?

They weren’t nearly done yet.

7

The Superlatively Superfluous Adventures of Legolas and Tauriel

Dateline: Dale (5/40)

Stormpilot: Gay Cowboy Style

Poe Dameron.

Most notorious outlaw West of the Mississippi. Maybe East of it as well. He wouldn’t know. Never had much cause to go back that way.

It was unsurprising, given his parentage. Ma’s brains and pa’s shooting were the two gifts they’d left him before they passed, and they’d served him well all his life.

He’d been more or less on his own ever since. He partnered up when it suited him, but extending trust too far had taught him lessons early on he wasn’t likely to forget, and once he cleared adolescence he made it policy never to let anyone get too close.

He was a rogue of the West, and spent his days creating headaches and causing trouble for the men he deemed unfit to lead, relieving them of goods and wealth he didn’t think they deserved. He spent his days helping folk who needed it- and helping himself when he needed it- and always staying one step ahead of the law.

He never expected one day he’d be in desperate need of help from someone else.

And he most definitely never expected that help to come from a deputy of the most corrupt sheriff the West had ever seen.

Poe had a tendency to walk into every town like he owned the place. It didn’t always serve him well, but who didn’t love a good bar brawl now and then? Got the juices flowin’. Made a man feel alive.

Still, he was forced to admit it may have been a poor move, heading into the township of Sheriff Ren with an excess of swagger and a defect of fear… especially given their history, and how much of a rotten pissant the man was.

Poe had a tendency to walk into every town like he owned the place. It didn’t always serve him well, but who didn’t love a good bar brawl now and then? Got the juices flowin’. Made a man feel alive.

Still, he was forced to admit it may have been a poor move, heading into the township of Sheriff Ren with an excess of swagger and a defect of fear… especially given their history, and how much of a rotten pissant the man was.

Sure enough, he’d only just finished his first whiskey and started scoping about for the right kind of gamblers to swindle out of their gold (trying to be too intrigued by that guy in the corner by himself, drinking quietly with his head down and what look’s like the weight of the world on his shoulders), when the cavalry arrived, a veritable storm of bounty hunters, deputies and average folk wanting a piece of the prize. They clutched wanted posters and pistols in their fists and had dollar signs in their eyes.

Goddamn.

He gave them a run for their money. At least he liked to tell himself as much when he thought back on it years later, but the men he’d rode into town with proved yellow as soon as the first wave of hunters came into the saloon. Turned tail faster than a beat dog.

Not surprising.

Poe had a knack for getting himself out of dicey situations, usually through the use of his considerable wit, charm and his blessedly dashing looks. Sadly, it seemed talking his way out of this one wasn’t going to work for once. Sheriff Ren had lost a whole lot of good money on account of Poe, and he was not the forgiving type.

Poe’s luck, it seemed, had finally caught up with him.

___

He was set to be hanged at high noon, but the noose never touched his neck.

Not, sadly, due to any ingenious plan of his own, but by the mercy of a complete stranger.

The most courageous and hopelessly naive man he’d ever come across in his life or probably ever would again.

His goddamn hero.

Finn.

They escaped by the skin of their teeth and headed into the wilds. Poe was pretty banged up, courtesy of Sheriff Kylo Ren and his lackeys, but there was air in his lungs and blood still pumped in his veins, and for that he was infinitely grateful. He also had a certain amount of gratitude for the gentleness of the courageous stranger’s hands, and the way he doctored Poe’s wounds with such patience and care, never once commenting if Poe winced or cried out in pain.

He tried not to dwell on that bit, and managed for the most part.

The Sheriff, it seemed, was not a man to be trifled with. For Poe to have crossed him not once but twice and still be breathing was already more than he could handle. That he’d managed to escape through betrayal by one of his own deputies was more than he could bear.

He pursued them relentlessly.

With such enormous targets on their backs, it only made sense to stick together, to watch one another’s until the danger passed.

Just for a while, Poe told himself.

‘Til they got far enough away Ren would give up, if that ever happened.

In the mean time, Finn was doing this really unsettling thing where he was acting like a good man and it was doing a number on Poe’s carefully constructed walls. He had determined long before meeting Finn that that such men didn’t exist, or were few and far between. He tried not to like him overmuch, but you can’t be around that kind of relentless earnestness and not be affected by it.

In a thousand little ways, without even knowing it Finn seemed dead set on shaking him up and proving his closely held beliefs wrong.

He did it again and again, and Poe was powerless to stop it. He did it with his easy laugh, or the way it just seemed so easy for him to dole out kindness. In the way he tended to horses, always chattering away to them as he did, calling them pretty when they were good and chastising them when they weren’t. In the way he always offered up peppermint or licorice when he got a stash in town, or the way his eyes sparkled with enjoyment when he and Poe argued about the merits (or lack thereof) of licorice, or whatever silly thing they picked to fill up the quiet.

He didn’t even make it a week before he started thinking of Finn as the best damn friend he’d ever had.

 

It had been over a year since Finn cut him down from the gallows and out of the jaws of death.

Ren stopped chasing them, or at least lost their trail, but they never did manage to part ways. At this point, Poe was certain the only way Finn would ever get rid of him would be if he decided to pump him full of bullets and leave him for dead.

Dammit, even if he did that (not that Poe could even imagine it), Poe was sure he’d crawl across the entire fucking desert just to look him in the eyes and ask him why.

Finn wasn’t just his friend any more.

He wanted him to be, desperately but more than half a year ago, things had started to get twisted up in Poe’s head and he couldn’t untangle them. Maybe longer ago than that.

He tried not to think about it, and by day they were usually too busy outrunning and outgunning trouble for him to fret about it. But by night, the yearning had started to creep in, and it was all Finn’s goddamn fault.

Finn was too goddamn soft.

It was impossible not to think about him in the kinda way a man shouldn’t think about another. His eyes were kind and his laugh was easy, and Poe spent so much time just trying to avert his gaze, to push down the longing so he wouldn’t act like a damn fool and scare off the best thing that ever happened to him. Because that’s what Finn was.

The kind of man who’d take a bullet for you without a second thought. The kind of man you could tell things to, things Poe never thought he’d say out loud to anyone. Things about his parents, or the things Poe did to survive in the first few years after their passing. Things he never wanted to say, things he never thought he could, seemed to just come out of him when he looked at chocolate colored eyes gleaming in the firelight, sensitive and patient.

Stopping the thing inside him is impossible, Poe knew that. Poe didn’t think anyone who lived a life in such shadow could come into contact with the light that was Finn and not come ti love him with every last bit of themselves.

Stopping such feelings was more than impossible, but controlling them wasn’t. At nights, he laid awake and thought about what Finn’s strong arms would feel like around him, what those beautiful hands would feel like on his body, but by days he smiled at him but never for too long.


And then one night at their campfire, when the ache had gotten so bad that Poe thought he might just get on his horse and ride away and never look back, Finn simply leaned over and pressed his lips against Poe’s. It was gentle and his lips were soft, and it lasted only seconds before he pulled back and fixed Poe with a stare that was equal parts heated and terrified.

Poe’s heart nearly stopped and his brain worked overtime trying to catch up on what had just happened, that brief, beautiful and entirely unexpected thing.

They’d run outta whiskey two nights before, so there was no way he could blame it on…

So that meant…did Finn want…?

“If I crossed a line, and you wanna take a swing at me, I understand,” Finn said, eyes downcast but still reflecting firelight. “Though I’d take it as kindness if you didn’t,” he mumbled, and something inside Poe exploded, because how could Finn not know, how could he not know that he was everything? From the minute he cut him down from the gallows, and every minute after.

Then show him, growled an impatient voice in his head, and he finally had the sense to take Finn by the jaw and return his kiss hard enough to hurt.

And that was it.

The end of the longing, the beginning of a life he never knew he wanted.

They got by on skirting the law for another couple of years. Finn, in spite of his charming naivety, proved useful in a fight and could usually be trusted to help carry out a scheme of Poe’s without difficulty.

They kept it up, toeing the lines of right and wrong to get by, but once they realized the extent of the thing between them, they knew it was time to stop running and start living.

So that’s what they do.

They find themselves a nice-sized plot with the money they’ve taken from them who never deserved it, in a place where no one they’ve crossed will be likely to find them.

It’s not much, really, the life they have. No one else would ever find it particularly grand or exciting. The men he’d known in his glory days, the men he’d fought with, killed with…they’d laugh in his face to see him now. And maybe try to stick a knife in him for being so wrong.

Poe doesn’t care. He has Finn now, Finn who is the best man he’s ever known, maybe the best man who ever lived. He has Finn however he wants, whenever he wants and Finn has him back.

In the bed they share, on the rug in front of the wood stove. In the grassy field under the summer sun, or when they crawl out of the creek after a swim, shivering and nude and in need of the best kind of warmth. After they bicker over whether or not raising chickens is worth the effort, after Finn shows him how to make a cobbler.

No matter where it is, no matter what leads to it, from the first time as young, men embarking on something alien and terrifying, to the very last, when they’re both gray and more than a little achey, every single time, it’s home.

ETA: Didn’t realize you could post graphics on AO3. Now there’s a version of it on there too. 

4

The Necklace-MacGuffin Idiot Ball: the mountain C (19/20)

So, yeah. Thranduil’s gems had the potential to progress conflict among the Dwarves, and internal conflict among individual Dwarves (like Fili and Kili). Go figure.

Of course, that requires using said gems, not just dropping a line about them here and there.

ALRIGHT MOTHERFUCKERS I TALKED TO MY OLD ROOMMATES TODAY AND I’VE HAD 6 SHOTS IN THE LAST 10 MINUTES LET’S FUCKING DO THIS SHIT!

So we decided that the next story I should tell should be one where I’m the asshole so we decided the story I’m going to tell is really the first story from this apartment and guys I am estatic because this is one of my favorites

Okay so since like a yeaqr before we moved in together Kyle was dating this girl Grace. Almost 4 years later they’re still dating it’s fucking cute as FUCK. Grace is fucking awesome we all love her also she is fucking fine like this girl probably could model. She also had a best friend from high school who I’m going to call Gary because that sounds like a sufficiently douchey name for this asshat Gary was a fuck like a whispy little piece of shit noone of us like Gary except Grace because apartently when Grace was in high school Grace was not fine and Gary was one of her only friends.

The problem with this was that Grace could not see how incredibly desperately in love Gary was with her and just thought they were friends and it was really awkward for Gary because she would do sloppy makeouts with Kyle in front of him it was pretty great for the rest of us poor Grace never believed us when we told her how crazy Gary was well she believed us after this shit.

Anyways it’s the second week we’ve been in this apartment Grace’s old lease ended at the end of our first week and her new lease didn’t start until the start of our third week so she had a week of nowhere to live so she was staying with us in Kyle’s room they were pretty happy with it and also very loud it set a precident that should not have been set sxo early anyways one day we’re all out doing errands and Grace is home and Gary comes over to see his bff for totally non scummy reasons and they’re aparently hanging out in our living room watching TV when Grace gets a phone call maybe idk she goes into the other room is the point and this is hwen Gary decides to put his master plan to finally win Grace’s heart into motion.

You see, while Gary had seen Grace date other guys in the past, he had always been confident that they would not last together, and that he would always bee therewhen it ended to try to sweep her off her feet and make tender, probably disappointing nerd love to her. While this never worked, he was confident it was only a matter of time. However, Kyle genuinely loves Grace, and always has, so there is a fear in Gary’s mind that the breakup that will get him with the girl of his dreams might not come, so he has become desperate.

So Gary decided to pull a play out of the playbook of a famous character from How I Met Your Mother. Not Barney, that would have required skill, game, and a basic understanding of how women think. No, he decides to try Mitch’s play. If you don’t remember who Mitch is, don’t feel bad, he’s only in like two episodes. He’s better known as the Naked Man.

That’s right. He pulled that move.

So Gary’s buck ass naked in our living room, BUT LITTLE DID GARY KNOW that while he was setting his brilliant plan into motion, I was walking into the aparmetn with my fuck buddy Jane, and we turn the corner into the living room to find Gary fucking CAPTAIN MORGANING ON OUR COFFEE TABLE. He is FULLY ERECT and we made eye contact.

I was told that we only stared at each other for like 10 seconds before I spoke but it felt like 10 years.

“What.”

As I say this, Grace walks back into the room and I swear to god the sound she made she has never replicated it was like a mix between a shriek, a laugh, and a gasp it was awesome so she and Jane gtfo because they want nothihng to do with this and I’ve finally realized how insane all this is so I’m laughing my ass off and trying to tell Gary to put his pants back on and leave and he’s getting all pissed off because the love of his life ran away from his dick so he’s acting like a pissant I fucking love that word btw and he starts toward the hallto go confront Grace and I stop him because he’s not walking through our apartment naked.

So he takes a swing at me. He misses because he closes his eyes before he throws a punch but still he throws a punch at me.

Here’s the thing: I fight a lot. Like way too much by any sane standard. I weigh like 180 something and I’m fucking strong. Gary is 130 at most, weak as fuck, and also has spent the entire time I’ve known him annoying the shit out of me, and also is naked in our living room and trying to fuck my friend in her boyfriend’s apartment.

So I swing back. And I don’t miss.

Gary stummbles back and I kick hm in the ass because why not. I fucking rain on him for like 20 seconds before he tries grabbing on to me.

This is the point where I realize he’s still ROCK FUCKING HARD.

So I grab him by the dick.

And I pull.

Hard.

I fucking lift Gary off the ground by his dick. At this point Paul and Kyle are getting back from their errands, and they walk into the apartment to see me giving Gary the worst handjob of all time while he tries his best moose call. They kinda just stare for a minute while I spin Gary around the room by his dick before Grace comes in screaming about what happened and Kyle jumps in to beat the shit out of Gary.

So we kick the shi9t out of Gary and make him put pants on before we kick him out because we aren’t a bunch of fucking savages and we all joke about it every time I’m arguing with someone at a party Kyle tells everyone I’ll rip their dicks off. Like a week later Grace hears from a friend that Gary tore a groin muscle from our little fight and it becomes even more hilarious to all of us we spoke to Gary once after this he called Grace a bitch and I threatened to feed him his balls.

So that’s the story of the time I gave a dude a mid-fight handy that was so rough I sent him to the hospital.

anonymous asked:

I saw your katsuki omega tag list and I fell in love. Can we have some for Deku? Tho I think he might be a beta. Either way can it be where Kacchan wants to get with dekus omega and they both want to claim her. I hope this isn't confusing.

Haha, I was a little confused, but I think I got what you were looking for! I hope you enjoy it~


Bakugou growls as he watches Midoriya blush at your tinkling laughter. You should be his. Period. You are an omega. He is an alpha. It’s nature, the way things are, the way things should be. You should be laughing at his desk, not at the desk of that worthless beta. Bakugou grinds his teeth when he sees you peck Midoriya on the lips.

An omega and a beta? It’s almost as rare as Quirklessness. 

You move your head slightly as you say something, showing the deep purple hickey at your neck. A preliminary bond mark. The blond’s nails dig into his palms as he balls his hands into fist. Frankly, Bakugou is surprised that Midoriya had the balls to even do that. 

“Ne, ne, Izukkun, want to do some training after school?” 

“O-Of course!”

You turn to Bakugou, “Kacchan, you should come too!”

The blond scrunches his face and he leans back in his chair, “Why would I train with weak-ass Deku? Not like it’s gonna help me out.”

“Oh, come on, Kacchan,” you whine, “It’ll be really fun! And I like hanging out with you as much as I like hanging out with Izukkun.”

Pouting, you lean over Bakugou’s desk and look up at him. He looks away. How can he say no when your looking at him with those pretty-ass omega eyes of yours? Fuck. Bakugou doesn’t want to share. He wishes you would’ve just asked him. He is a red-blooded alpha down to his core. He can’t stand that useless ass beta, but he figures it he can tolerate it if it meant being close to you. 

Bakugou sucks his teeth and growls, “Fine, dammit.”

You laugh at the alpha’s cold reluctance. He scowls at your laughter, but he can’t help but to find it cute, especially when it’s from you. Your giggling subsides when you feel your phone buzzing. Taking out the device, you read the message and purse your lips. 

“Izukkun, Kacchan, I need to run to the store before we met,” you grab your bag and head for the door, “I’ll see you guys tonight. Laters!”

Both boys watch your cheeks pinch as your mouth stretches into a wide grin revealing your perfect teeth. Both boys are completely smitten as they watch you gracefully walk out of the classroom. Both boys look at each other as soon as you’re gone.

“I’m not going to lose.”

They say it at the same time. Bakugou glares at Midoriya. He is not going to let some pissant beta claim the omega that should be his. Midoriya stares back at his childhood friend, not backing down from the alpha’s challenge. He is not going to let Bakugou steal you away from him just because he’s an alpha.

Neither of them plan on letting the other best him, and neither of them are going to lose when it comes to you.  

5

The Superlatively Superfluous Adventures of Legolas and Tauriel

Dateline: Dale (12/40)

I’m not ace. I’m a queer woman with a traumatic past who does not like to be touched and has to deal with that complication on a daily basis.

That said, ace people are welcome at my table, and I will always do everything I can to combat people who try to gatekeep them out of the queer community and out of fandom at large.

We can acknowledge the difference in people’s experiences and the intersectionality thereof without trying to shove them out of the room like pissant children who don’t want to share their toys.

If my legacy in life is nothing else, I want it to be one of inclusion in the face of a cold, apathetic world.

Life is short. Fandom is a labor of love. Be kind.