Things Vader has probably asked Padmé for/done his damnedest to provoke her into doing to him:
tie him to the bed
hit him in the face
leave hickeys/bite marks/bruises in places he can’t hide
wax/heat play, possibly to the point of burning
choke him
Things Padmé has probably ordered Vader to do:
answer to “Anakin”
Okay on the one hand OW that got painful real fast, but on the other hand that is exactly what I was hoping to get out of that question. This AU is just so fucking fantastic, I love it.
Look, I’ve been very cracky and fluffy and fun around here lately, I know, but if I go a month without someone being at least mildly traumatized by something I wrote then I will lose all my writerly powers and turn into a pillar of salt and blow away, okay, that’s just how it is. Therefore, Darth Vader is gonna have to learn real quick that every time his Master tells him to lay back and close his eyes, he better start answering to “Anakin” again ASAP or he’s not gonna get hurt the way he likes at ALL.
*coils protectively around this EXTREMELY EXCELLENT thing*
Cracky fluffy Mace Windu taking Anakin out for truckloads of glowing space ice cream and making morbid jokes is great, but for real I just want to talk about Empress Amidala and Vader and their twins who are probably really strange in this world and how the galaxy reacts when Queen Padme of Naboo is suddenly (and aggressively) promoted and the intricate details of how the Jedi flip their collective shit.
Things Vader has probably asked Padmé for/done his damnedest to provoke her into doing to him:
tie him to the bed
hit him in the face
leave hickeys/bite marks/bruises in places he can’t hide
wax/heat play, possibly to the point of burning
choke him
Things Padmé has probably ordered Vader to do:
answer to “Anakin”
Okay on the one hand OW that got painful real fast, but on the other hand that is exactly what I was hoping to get out of that question. This AU is just so fucking fantastic, I love it.
hey, i'm thinking of watching leverage- can you, like, explain it to me
Imagine if Robin Hood was in the 21st century except instead of King John it’s major corporations and instead of Robin Hood it’s an alcoholic ex-insurance cop lying to himself about being a good man and so hardbitten noir you practically choke on the cigarette smoke
oh and instead of the Merry Men you’ve got a hacker with a heart of gold who once drained the Icelandic bank for his grandmother’s medical bills, a self-loathing hitter who likes to pretend he’s an island when in actuality all he wants is someone to ask him to stay, and a thief who doesn’t melt or soften so much as find her footing, her home, and people who love her.
(also, spoilers, they are all married)
………..and Maid Marian is actually a grifter par excellence, femme fatale in the grand noir tradition, who is selfish and kind and the closest thing to a functional adult in the group, which is sort of terrifying, except for all the parts where it is amazing
Okay, so, question about the HamDevil AU (which is everything to me, by the way, I adore it): how the hell do clients react when they wander into dinky broken-down Nelson and Murdock and get told "This is Alex Hamilton, he'll be handling your case, if he gets off on a ramble ignore him, and make sure he puts the right year on your file because Karen might kill him if he keeps dating them 1804"?
I caught some time on my Singapore trip so I could answer this on my phone! so forgive me if it’s a bit scattershot.
by the time the story itself takes place, people have had some time to get used to the idea of a founding father hanging around New York fighting people, so it stands to reason he would’ve found work at some point. still, at first it wasn’t widely known that Alexander had started working at N&M, so the poor soul who walked in first right after the guy was hired probably nearly had a heart attack.
and word has a tendency to spread in Hell’s Kitchen, so N&M experienced a brief boom in popularity, during which a fuckload of clients specifically requested that Hamilton handle their cases. said clients v quickly found out that the musical was not exaggerating when it came to his, er, verbose tendencies.
I wonder how many awkward things people have said to me I’ve completely forgotten about but still makes someone cringe randomly when they are trying to sleep.
“but being abused made you so kind!” being abused made me terrified of being anything less than perfectly accommodating and pleasing in an effort to protect myself from the violence my abuser reacted with but okay whatever
Also see “You’re so mean now. I liked you better before.”
You liked me when I was completely accommodating out of residual fear and now I have basic boundaries and a shred of self confidence it inconveniences you.
“And Hamilton was not always scholarly, especially not when writing for Fenno’s Gazette about the devil, who he believed had been incarnated as Thomas Jefferson.”—Eric Burns, Infamous Scribblers (via aaronsburrr)
i find ‘wait for it’ hilarious because apparently Burr’s entire philosophy in life is “I can be master of my own self, but some things are beyond my control. life and death. love, my past, forces of nature. and Hamilton, I also cannot control Hamilton.”
people who complain about dinosaurs “not being scary anymore” because its been discovered they have feathers and are closely related to/ancestors of birds are so bizarre like
its not about how scary they are, they are/were real life animals and what matters is learning more about them, not how well they fit into your science fiction horror film lol
can you imagine a 13 foot chicken running at you with full intent to eat you??? thats fucking terrifying holy shit
peacocks are synonymous with vain, frivolous beauty and they will attack cars. they will attack you while you try to get to your car. they’re like six feet of useless feathers and they will destroy you. imagine if they were carnivorous and had functional spurs.
a t-rex could look like a gay disco ball and i guarantee that you would fucking book it if it had a problem with you
listen
listen
have you ever met a swan
if anything the birdier they get the scarier they are
Also, I personally am quite fond of the mental image of a Majestic As Fuck pack of feathered raptors that are also capable of brutal evisceration.
I mean, what part of that doesn’t sound deeply, viscerally alarming?
As a kid, my family kept geese as guard animals. And these geese were the most effective GUARD ANIMALS because they would rush at anyone while simultaneously beating their 3 foot wings and biting. Once they broke a man’s femur who was trespassing. A grown ass man’s LEG.
Yeah, if I knew that a 6 foot tall goose lived in the world, I might never go outside.
I love using “my guy” and “my dude” and “kiddos” and “friend” for everything because there’s so much affection yet an unbelievable amount of sarcasm and that pretty much describes my personality
tumblr friendships are hard to maintain like im sorry i know i havent talked to you in 5 months but you’re still super rad and i still consider us friends im just dumb
so okay i know you specified lgbtq+ kids who had been kicked out but my parents are really abusive(not. physically or sexually) but. they think they're the best parents but they terrify me and please adopt me you seem like the best oerson
SWEETIE, yes, of course, absolutely, come here. *hugs you* (Although, oh God, I hope I haven’t convinced you that I actually…like…have my shit together at all, I am a flailing pre-med student eyeing senior year with apprehension. BUT I will totally be your Tumblr mom, I will be everyone’s Tumblr mom, come tell me about your day and let me remind you to eat and take care of yourselves.)
And BELIEVE ME, I know the feeling of people who believe they’re just wonderful and just…are not. It’s a very particular kind of terrible, isn’t it? Especially when they have the rest of the world convinced, and then turn around and are emotionally (or otherwise) abusive to you. You are tough as nails for dealing, I am so proud of you, I am so proud of you, God. Just…you’ll live through this, sweetie, you really will, and it’ll be hard and it’ll be awful and it’ll be terrible and then one day it’ll be over, okay? And just…it’s not about being all right every day, about magically being fine as soon as it’s over. It’s not. It’s about surviving. And then someday you’re going to blink and look up and realize that you’ve had more good days than bad and that you’re more at ease in your skin and that you’re better. I am not fixed, I am not fine, sometimes I still have to bite down a panic attack when I have to talk to my grandmother or a scream when my grandfather starts talking about ‘well, medicine is awfully competitive, I just hope you know what you’re getting into, it can be rough on women, you know’ and spirals into cruel remarks. But I’m better. I really am. It’s really possible. And you’re gonna make it through this, sweetie, you really are, and I’m so proud of you for making it this far.
You are now my Tumblr child, feel free to either come off anon or come back on anon and just identify yourself. (If there are more of you I’ll start handing out nicknames. Greek letters or something, if you don’t want to come off anon.)
All right, drink some water, make sure you’ve had something to eat, get sleep, take care of yourself. Moran decrees it.
I love the phrase “what the entire fuck” because it implies that there exists some scenario that warrants only a “what the partial fuck”.
Well, since there are clearly scenarios which warrant giving zero fucks, it
seems plausible to infer that there exists a 0 … 1 scale of fuckitude, containing a potentially infinite number of fractional fuckery scenarios.
Fractional Fuckery Scenarios is going to be my first short story collection.
Whereas ‘what the actual fuck’ implies that there are metaphorical or theoretical fucks in play.
Dude, you missed fictional fucks, which is both excellent alliteration and hilarious.
Solidarity between girls when one of their boyfriends fucks up is great. Group chat, screenshots, all the sudden it’s The People v Shit Boyfriend court is now in session is the prosecution ready to make an openin statement
En Anglais, on ne dit pas “quatre vingt dix neuf”, on dit “ninety nine” qu'on pourrait traduire comme “Hurr durr, regardez mois, j'ai un système de numérotation fonctionnel” et je crois que c'est magnifique.
Full disclosure, I parlez exactly no Francais, but I speak enough Spanish and Latin to fucking laugh my ass off at this every time.
Bucky cap is really funny bc Steve never had weapons so all the villains only had to watch out for the shield, but then comes Bucky and
One of my favorite parts from bucky!cap is when he tries to give guns to all of the avengers, and they’re all freaking out. AND HE CAN’T UNDERSTAND WHY NO ONE HAS A GUN.
Okay but Bucky the Much Put Upon Older Brother of the Avengers is probably my favorite comic trend ever and if someone wanted to point me toward some fic to that effect, I would not be displeased.
people who complain about dinosaurs “not being scary anymore” because its been discovered they have feathers and are closely related to/ancestors of birds are so bizarre like
its not about how scary they are, they are/were real life animals and what matters is learning more about them, not how well they fit into your science fiction horror film lol
can you imagine a 13 foot chicken running at you with full intent to eat you??? thats fucking terrifying holy shit
peacocks are synonymous with vain, frivolous beauty and they will attack cars. they will attack you while you try to get to your car. they’re like six feet of useless feathers and they will destroy you. imagine if they were carnivorous and had functional spurs.
a t-rex could look like a gay disco ball and i guarantee that you would fucking book it if it had a problem with you
listen
listen
have you ever met a swan
if anything the birdier they get the scarier they are
Humans quickly get a reputation among the interplanetry alliance and the reputation is this: when going somewhere dangerous, take a human.
Humans are tough. Humans can last days without food. Humans heal so fast they pierce holes in themselves or inject ink for fun. Humans will walk for days on broken bones in order to make it to safety. Humans will literally cut off bits of themselves if trapped by a disaster.
You would be amazed what humans will do to survive. Or to ensure the survival of others they feel responsible for.
That’s the other thing. Humans pack-bond, and they spill their pack-bonding instincts everywhere. Sure it’s weird when they talk sympathetically to broken spaceships or try to pet every lifeform that scans as non-toxic. It’s even a little weird that just existing in the same place as them for long enough seems to make them care about you. But if you’re hurt, if you’re trapped, if you need someone to fetch help?
You really want a human.
“Looks like someone for you.”
Jon kicked Ginna’s boots, which were currently resting on the table, and she glanced over toward the door. A clump of knee-high aliens, plump and round and covered in golden fur, were lifting their little pink noses into the air - scenting the air in the bar.
Sashrans. Perfect.
Ginna quickly downed the last of her drink and dropped her feet to the floor. The Gentleman of Fortune was full to the gills of professional companions looking for work, she wouldn’t be the only one in here with a fondness for sashrans. She needed to work quickly if she wanted a chance at whatever job these ones were hiring for. The sound and vibration of her boots caught the attention of the group, and Ginna followed it quickly with a greeting in the quiet shushing sounds of their own language.
A universal translator would take care of most of the talking, but by knowing a little of their language Ginna proved she had worked with their kind before and cared enough to learn it. Caring was probably the most important skill a companion could cultivate.
It paid off. The group of sashrans centered quickly on her and darted over, still in their clump.
“I am human Ginna, companion for hire,” Ginna introduced, tapping the side of her visor to activate the display.
“Sala and Rini, with crew. Spice collectors,” the largest of the sashrans introduced, tapping at their own earbud. Their information began to stream onto Ginna’s display, while her own would be playing in their ear. She was proficient in everything from weapons to mechanics to medicine, xenobiology to politics, and of course survival in any kind of situation from atmosphere decompression in space to a tsunami on a planet. The more varied the knowledge they had the better a companion a human could make, and Ginna prided herself on being one of the best.
As for the sashrans, they’d found a jungle planet with a plant that was delicious to their senses. Cultivation efforts had failed thus far, so the price was high enough to support the risk of hunting for it on its home range. A six-month tour was on offer. It seemed they’d contracted with another professional companion a few times, a man named Drix, and Ginna quickly switched over to the guild’s internal records to see what he had to say of these sashrans and the planet they were harvesting from.
The sashrans themselves would be able to check what Ginna’s former employers had to say about her too.
Drix had enjoyed working with Sala and Rini’s crew, it dripped out of every line of his reports. He’d included good detail about life aboard their ship and the risks of the planet, that Ginna would have to look into closer later to be prepared.
All she needed to know at the moment was that they paid well, the risks were not unacceptably high, and that they treated their human companions well. It sounded like a job for her.
“Sala and Rini and crew, I would take this job,” Ginna told them.
The sashrans shushed and buzzed together, their tones sounding happy to Ginna’s relatively untrained ear, and she hoped she was reading them right. They were such beautiful little creatures, and she’d always enjoyed working for their kind before. They were close enough she could have reached out to touch them, pet their soft velvet fur, but she resisted. Touching them uninvited would be rude.
Finally they turned back to her. “Sala and Rini and crew will, with joy, contract to hire companion Ginna,” the lead one answered.
Contract negotiations went quickly enough, using the standard guild template and modifying it here or there as both parties preferred and agreed upon. Sashrans were easy to haggle with, not like the argumentative akskar. Soon enough Ginna had a contract and three days to prepare her effects for travel.
“It has been a pleasure,” Ginna told the sashrans. “I look forward to being your companion.”
She would have expected them to leave, then, go get their own things ready for launch. Instead the smallest one pushed forward - all wrapped in pale gold velvet fur and their sweet little pink forepaws resting on Ginna’s knee.
“Companion Ginna will now engage in petting for promotion of pack bonding?” they asked hopefully.
“Of course,” Ginna reached out toward the sashran, let them smell her palm, but it seemed this sashran wasn’t shy at all. They immediately pushed their head into her hand. There was nothing in the galaxy so soft as a sashran’s fur. Ginna dug her fingers in around the ruff of the sashran’s neck, gently scratching, and then smoothed the fur all the way down their back.
The sashran made a dreamy-soft pleasure sound, and Ginna mimicked it back. “Oh you sweetheart,” she murmured. Already she could feel that little melting tug in her heart, that protective urge that set some humans on the path to professional companionship.
Come hell or high water, Ginna was going to keep these sashrans safe.
Aw, yes. Look at the adorable scifi! I’m proud to have inspired it.
i bet every time steve annoys one of the other avengers they just go and tell bucky about something reckless steve has done
steve steals natasha’s bagels one morning so she looks straight into his eyes and says ‘JARVIS tell james that one time steve jumped off a plane without a patachute’ and from the other end of the tower bucky shouts ‘STEVEN GRANT ROGERS’
he accidentally breaks tony’s favourite screwdriver and he is very sorry but it’s too late because bucky practically kicks the door of the shop down screaming ‘diD YOU NOT EVEN TRY TO LAND THAT PLANE I AM TOO YOUNG TO DIE FROM STRESS’
clint does it whenever he’s bored like one day they are just hanging out and he goes “hey so did you know steve jumped from an elevator that was at least 200 feet in the air that one time” ‘hey i was trying to escape hydr–’ “he landed on concrete” “EXCUSE ME ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND??? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU YOU ABSOLUTE MORON” ‘i landed on my shield it absorbs the shock’ “DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOUR SHIELD?????”
What do you like to do in your spare time? What do you really want to do for a job?
Hey, Anon, what’s up, welcome to the inbox, way to help me kill some time, love you.
All right, give me a minute to remember what spare time is like. In all seriousness, though, I read fiction (sci-fi/fantasy because reality is dull and realistic fiction is likewise pretty dull), I write fantasy novels/fanfiction (recently), I watch Netflix and movies and read my old 60′s X-Men comics (look, the costumes are terrible and the plots are ridiculous and I’ll fight you in a back alley for the X-Men, okay?)….and I harass my roommate over whatever is available to me. And of late I listen to Hamilton and suffer over historical characters.
And as for a job, well, there are a few answers to that. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t need to sleep, and I could pull off a miracle and become a bestselling author and still work as an ER doctor and also get a full night’s rest and have free time. (This is related to my slightly weird fantasy of ‘in the event that I had millions of dollars, I would buy a couple floors of an apartment building and take in a bunch of LGBTQ+ kids who’d been kicked out of their homes and make sure they were fed and got to go to school and everything with the one requirement that they go to therapy, because a little therapy is good for everyone,’ which is heavily dependent on my having a lot of money in addition to free time. Also, please do not be led astray by this fantasy, I neither like small children nor am a nice person.) Since this is not a perfect world and I have dubious luck at best, my slightly more achievable aspiration is to work as an ER doctor at a Trauma One hospital and write not-bestselling novels on the side. This will probably be accompanied by a high degree of caffeine consumption and some sleep deprivation. What can you do. Medicine makes me happy, writing keeps me sane, it seems like a good plan to me.
Okay so: Rey, as the result of a midi-chlorian pregnancy. I have no idea what this means but it lines up with some parallels to Anakin: good with building things, extremely strong with the force, etc
The Force: Okay, Luke, so I know my LAST Chosen One didn’t really work out for the galaxy and also you in particular and in fact is STILL kind of not working out for the galaxy and ESPECIALLY you in particular, but listen, hear me out here: a female pilot who’s good with droids with a big fucking stick just fucking WRECKING everybody. Everybody, all the time. Just fucking beating the SHIT out of them.
Luke Skywalker: I LOVE IT.
The Force: Good because I already made her, she’ll be here in like three days for Jedi training, TREAT MY BABY/YOUR NEW AUNTIE GOOD. BYYYYYE LUKE YOU’RE THE BEST.
