stories by ren

This is my (very very very overdue) gift for the lovely and amazing @longstoryshortikilledhim as part of the @verymerrykylux​ gift exchange. Thank you so much for your patience with me! They asked for a scene from one of their fics, and I picked this beautiful scene from chapter 2 of their a m a z i n g fic, Psychomania. I highly recommend this fic if you haven’t already read it. It’s a beautifully written piece, and I can only hope I managed to do it justice. 

If your family ever feels dysfunctional just remember that Anakin was obsessed over Padme for literally ten years and then he choked her when she was pregnant with twins thus killing her. The twins made out with each other and the guy who killed the teacher of the boy chopped the boys hand off to reveal later that he is actually his father. The father literally dies 5 minutes after he learned that he has a daughter. Then the girl marries a guy who clearly has a romantic relationship with his spaceship, then their son turns out to have a boner for his grandfather and kills his dad.

AU where everything in EpIII, EpIV, EpV, EpVI and EpVII is an Anakin’s dream

He wakes up screaming at this horrible dream where he becomes a monster and, for his bad bad baaaad luck, his granson too becomes a monster trying to imitate him. 

He tells Padmé about it and she tells him that nothing will happen. And they stay in bed all day talking about little things because Ani is too frigtened to just continue with the daily things.

Anakin becomes really mistrustful of Palpatine and literally avoid him like a plague. When Palpatine tries to become emperor, he’s with the jedy and together they put a stop to that. Padmé becomes chancellor of the republic and Ani decides to left the order of Jedy to just embrace his little family. 

They have a pair of twins (Luke Jinn Skywalker and Leia Shimi Skywalker). Someday when they are a little older, Ani promise himself that he will (literally) wipe his future grandson ass if he becames an asshole sith and kills his father. “"Ani, for Force’s sake.” is the complain of Padmé, but she too (secretly) promise that she will too wipe her future grandson ass if he makes Leia suffer. 

Plus, when Ben Solo comes into the world he becames Anakin’s little shadow. He follows his grandpa to every single place, like really, Ben can’t live with his awesome grandfather who is too cool and tell him stories and shit, and they are really best friend, talking about the force, the clone wars, the galaxy, bla bla bla And Ani feels happy because he has a beautiful family and he is, at least, free. 

random internet person: “I’m just not that into Skip Beat anymore”

me:

9

“Ever since I was young I have never done anything for myself. Everytime i did something it was for someone else. I always lived for other people until now. But it’s different now…learning how to act…I feel like I’m doing it for myself… Using it to create my new self… Not for anyone else…This make me very happy. I want… to experience more things, absorb more… and open up my own world so I can let the new Mogami Kyoko… Appear… That’s why… I started to learn how to act…” Quote by Kyoko Mogami Chapter 35

edit by evilinkawaiiclothing

Imagine Kylo Meeting K2
  • Kylo: You were once one of us. It's not too late. Join us.
  • K2: Boi... Get your shit together.

omg it’s 11:55! (O ///w///O) i barely made it in time!!! (7^   O ^)7 this is a gift for my very beloved @no-hux-given for their birthday!!! high school AU Hux and Kylo, skipping class and eating cupcakes behind the gym! (where they totally make out after <3)

this piece references back to the past!!! waaayyyy back to the past! to my very first Tumblr post in fact! high school AU Hux and Kylo were the first thing i ever drew here, which was for them!!! (-^ ___^-) <3 dood… for real… where would i be now if you hadn’t been so kind to me? would i even still be on Tumblr?! would i be the Pidgy i am today!?!? i can never know!!! but thank you! thank you so much for helping me to walk through this door (-^   o ^-) it’s changed my life in so many ways <3 All my love and a thousand hugs! i hope your year to come brings many positive changes and takes you in wonderful directions! you deserve it! *HUGS* <3 <3 <3

I can’t wait for episode VIII to show us the castle that, I assume, Kylo Ren lives in.

I imagine it will be just like Darth Vader’s except Kylo had to build it himself, in a swamp, out of sand and toothpaste and sheer Force-ability.

So really it will be nothing like Vader’s castle, at all, because it’ll be barebones and homestead and there will be 8 other millennials living there.

And people will call him “entitled” and “extra” because he lives in a castle.

Rogue One is a war movie, without a doubt - and as usual with all wars, the results are tragic. My advice is not to get attached to any of the new protagonists - mainly because because it is a war movie, and a stand-alone film about a minor chapter in the wider overall theme of Star Wars and its universe. 

The outlook for the long term survival of those main protagonists is not good. 

The people who have already seen the film already know why. 

save the last dance for me

its 8 o'clock on a summer day. thursday morning in fact. (post cryo) bucky hums to himself as he’s making french toast. as steve rounds a corner, he overhears. he knows this tune, they danced to it once - feet shuffling around on tenement floors. the worn sofa, the stacks of books - things relocated, music streaming through the radio. an open window in the heat of summer, the sound of new york traffic. they’d continued to sway long after the song ended; bucky smiling through kisses and singing off key.

(life was easier then, bright as the sun)

after, they’d eaten mediocre biscuits for dinner with a jar of homemade jam from an upstairs neighbor. steve remembers bucky wiping a smudge from the corner of his mouth and how it led to more for the first time. he recalls how emerging hours later to find that they’d forgotten to clean the kitchen. dirty dishes, sticky jam on the table, buckys jacket carelessly tossed on the back of the sofa; scenes from a life.

upon hearing this familiar tune it’s 1935 again and everything is right with the world. only…it isn’t. steve’s eyes begin to fill up with tears, bucky cannot know this. there’s a very slim chance of him actually remembering why the song stuck with him anyway. as such, steve throws a “going for a run, be back soon” over his shoulder and doesn’t wait for bucky to respond before he leaves. the last thing bucky needs is guilt that isn’t his to carry.

he returns some 3hrs later to find a plate of cold buttered toast lightly spread with blackberry jam waiting. the minute he steps through the door, it is thrust into his palms. buckys face lights up like a million starlights lighting the way home.

“you had jam….right,” he brushes a thumb along the outer left crease of steves lip. “…here.”

the sensation gives steve goosebumps; a long dormant sensory memory. bucky takes the plate before steve has a chance to eat the food. a prop then, a quiet unspoken way of saying, “I remember us.”

god, it hurts so good.

steve can feel the shift, the bridge lowering. the fog lifting from buckys eyes, the unoccupied metallic hand curling around his wrist; gentle. he is always so gentle.

steve closes his eyes, takes and breath and counts to ten. of all the things he has missed when it comes to bucky, casual stolen intimacy is the hardest. he misses kissing, skin to skin contact, misses tracing the shadows and angles of buckys body. seventy + years is a long time.

“why didn’t you tell me?,” bucky questions. his voice comes out hushed, cautious.

it’s hard, this. “you were wearing those ridiculous oven mitts that nat bought us last christmas and humming. you were burning the french toast in this kitchen, our kitchen. and I couldn’t, buck. I couldn’t take that from you.”

bucky scoffs, shaking his head. “I was humming it ‘cause I was hoping *you* would recognize it but I didn’t want to push in case you and carter were…you know. a couple. if…I’m wrong about her, I want this steve and I don’t want much in this life. heaven knows I never have. but it’s…you.”

steve takes both of buckys hands in his own. if steve could see himself he’s sure he’d recognize soft blue eyes from another life, staring back at a wide eyed bucky. he’d recognize that look.

“am I too late?,” he whispers.

“late? by seventy years, yes. too late? no such thing pal, not here. not with you.”

steve steps forward, dropping his head on buckys chest. it’s warm and solid, bucky is alive. this is real. it’s not the product of a fevered grief stricken nightmare, a ghost sent to taunt him with notions of what he could never have.

“hey buck?”

“hmm?”

“dance with me?”

buckys face splits into a wide grin that takes steve back to brooklyn, 1927. a sketchbook and bullies, buckys nine year old fists. home.

“thought you’d never ask.”

bucky takes steve in his arms and begins to hum.

there will be thousands of kisses, each one different from the last but for now there’s a dance that’s been 70+ years in the making.