Luke and Leia have exactly zero percent fear response to sensing the Dark Side. This will definitely never backfire on anyone ever.
The handmaidens regularly take turns going on missions with Vader. Usually there’s two of them; there’s almost always at least one. Padmé slightly hates herself for sending them, but has no intention of stopping sending them. She hates herself a lot more for a lot of other things she’s still doing. The handmaidens don’t answer to Vader and Vader doesn’t answer to the handmaidens, but they DO occasionally remind him what Padmé said in the briefing.
Padmé has nightmares every time that Vader is too far away to sense her having nightmares. She has no idea if this is because that’s when she has the room to or if it’s just because he’s out of her reach, and she doesn’t want to know either way.
I may have mentioned this before but OH MAN, does Vader feel SO CONTENT in the Dark. Like, it is warm and soft and cozy as FUCK to him. He loves it. It’s GREAT. Which, well, he’s probably accessing it through mostly positive emotions, barring some murder-rages and the like, so that should probably make sense, buuuut that also means he’s fueled more than a few horrible slaughters on the power of love, lol. Not even in the VENGEFUL AND PROTECTIVE sense, either, just literally the soft happy feeling of Padmé’s lips pressing to the corner of his mouth or the twin’s little hands in his.
Eventually, Padmé is accidentally going to genuinely injure Vader in bed. It is not going to go well. The WAY in which it is not going to go well remains up for debate.
usually in redeemed!vader fanfic obi-wan crops up at some point, but i'm honestly glad he doesn't in your double agent vader series, mostly because it allows more room for vader/leia interaction, but secondarily because i don't think even obi-wan can come up with a reply to vader's (inevitable) scathing, "i'd risk life and limb for you, but i don't have any," and i'm not ready for obi-wan to be that thoroughly roasted
Oh my God.
I started reading this thinking I was gonna give you a long and thoughtful reply, but then I got to the end and I just.
That’s the sickest burn I’ve ever seen. Like damn. I am in awe of you, anon. I never would have thought of that one myself.
please just show us attention we work just as hard as artists do we just want to be petted and praised the same way
like an artist tag-stalks their art and sees all the #HOW DARE and #FUCK YOU OP in the tags and they’re like ‘yes good my work is done’
but a writer
we know there aren’t as many readers as there are picture-lookers and we don’t get the notes so there’s no tags to stalk to fulfill our need for validation
the ao3 hit counter going up is nice but if you don’t leave a comment (or even a kudos) how do we know you liked it and didn’t just back out and go “nope”
we value your gushing so much please just gush all over my face
DO IT GUYS!!! … THEY’RE REALLY WAITING TO KNOW WHAT WE FELT ABOUT THEIR MAGIC 💕
Oh God, here we go. So @littlestartopaz asked me to do all of these for Ouran and…yeah, I’m going to put it under the cut because I like to pretend that I have dignity, sometimes. Please do not read this if you aspire to still have any respect for me at all, and I’m blaming @twistedangelsays because she’s convenient to blame.
So I got into a debate(?) on Facebook with someone who was talking about Star Trek and they were griping a little about the lack of religion in it (to be fair this person is a minister) (also I’d like to point out that religion does actually happen in Star Trek, it’s just not the object of a lot of fixation), and I’d like to reiterate the reasons I love Star Fleet.
They are space nerds. Nerds in space. They just want to understand the science and be in awe of the universe, let them live.
They are aggressive about equal opportunities. The Original Series was fucking groundbreaking guys, Uhura is the forever queen of my space nerd heart.
They want to make friends. With everyone. If you’re not actively trying to murder them, humans want to be friends with you. Hell, they might still want to be friends with you after you actively try to murder them (Klingons, Romulans, Cardassians, and the Borg on SEVERAL occasions).
They protect those who can’t protect themselves, help those without food or shelter, welcome strangers and aliens to their homes, reach out with everything they have in them.
This is the crux of it, guys.
Star Fleet is an armada, yes. They’re a military when they need to be, yes, because space is a dangerous place and not everyone wants to be your friend back and you are part of a crew, you are part of a Federation, you are part of a vast and system-spanning family that you have to protect. And sometimes that means violence, because you have people to protect.
But that’s not what Star Fleet is for.
Star Fleet is for connecting. For finding new planets with new civilizations and reaching out and saying “We’re not alone because you’re here, and that means you’re not alone either, come be not-alone with us.” For looking ever outward. For boldly going, not alone.
So let’s boldly go, motherfuckers, we have a galaxy to explore.
Dear authors: you have to learn the difference between a bad boy and a bastard abuser.
Um, yes.
For those of you who are confused:
Bad boy: probably poor, doesn’t follow rules because he thinks they are harmful or stifling (”I can’t sit there all day when teachers don’t give a shit if I learn or not”), outbursts are at injustices, fights to defend (”leave them alone/you’re hurting this place leave!”)
Bastard abuser: probably middle class or higher, doesn’t follow rules because he think’s he’s above them (”school is a waste of time I can learn what I need to from books”), outbursts are about things not going the way he wants them, fights to prove superiority or lay claim (”stay off my turf/away from my girl!”)
For the AU meme, if you're still taking requests: Han Solo, accidental Jedi knight
oops accidental bonus headcanons because JEDI KNIGHT HAN SOLO, oooooops oh well too late now!
“It’s LUCK, kid,” Han scoffs dismissively, then proceeds to grab up the lightsaber himself and turn on the training droid, then close his eyes and nail every single bolt before knocking the thing right out of the air. “Also, see that, you don’t even NEED the Force to do that.” “… perhaps, but that was the Force you just did that with,” Obi-Wan replies slowly. “What,” Han says.
It was definitely the Force. “I AM NOT A JEDI,” Han Solo yells as he is dragged kicking and screaming into Jedi training by the power of Luke’s excitement at not being the only one suffering the indignity of getting hit in the ass by randomized droid blaster-shots, literally just that. Also Obi-Wan tells him he might be able to shave half a parsec off the Kessel Run, if he hones his Force-sense finely enough, which, well, FINE then. BUT ONLY FOR THE KESSEL RUN.
“I have a bad feeling about this.”
“I HAVE A VERY BAD FEELING ABOUT THIS.”
“DID I MENTION THE BAD FEELING THAT I HAVE ABOUT THIS BECAUSE IT IS AN INCREASINGLY BAD FEELING.”
Leia is so appalled by the state of the Jedi in this galaxy. “Sorry, sweetheart, we can’t all be bright-eyed little beacons of galactic hope,” Han says, smashing a Stormtrooper over the head with his lightsaber hilt. The blade is blue but NO ONE WOULD FUCKING KNOW, CONSIDERING HOW RARELY HE USES THE DAMN THING. Generally speaking Jedi Knight Han Solo uses his lightsaber as A) a laser cutter and B) a blunt instrument. Obi-Wan is dead and he is STILL going to die of shame on behalf of the Order.
“WHY ARE WE ON THIS HELLISH SWAMP PLANET AND HOW DO WE GET OFF IT YESTERDAY.”
The amount of gimer-stick whaps that Han Solo suffers has not been seen in the galaxy since Yan Dooku was a snotty little baby padawan who couldn’t be assed to pay attention to anything not saberplay for more than fifteen seconds at a time.
Lando takes one look at Han Solo holding a lightsaber and laughs for TEN THOUSAND YEARS. Chewbacca is like THANK YOU, AT LAST SOMEONE ELSE SEES THE FUCKING HILARITY OF THIS SITUATION, THANK YOU, CALRISSIAN.
“Dark Side my fine Corellian ASS, I’ll show you the fucking DARK SIDE, YOU PIECE OF BANTHA SHIT, LET ME AT HIM–”
Okay, so with this new Vision 'verse, how does Padme fit in later? Is Shmi all about this girl and when they first meet weirdly attached to this baby senator? Is Obi-Wan also weirdly attached, or is he conflicted because this woman caused his padawan to form Attachments? And lastly, we have Anakin. Fully-remembering-bad-timeline Anakin. How does he act around her, knowing that in another timeline he killed her and she had his children?
Shmi is definitely all about her and definitely weirdly attached. Obi-Wan is … weirdly CONCERNED, more than anything else, but also attached because yeah, it’s not Padmé’s fault Anakin went Dark Side, Sidious would’ve just found some other way to get into his head. She didn’t handle everything perfectly, but neither did HE, so it’s not like he’s got a damn leg to stand on.
Anakin, now. Anakin is gonna be the concerning thing. Because I know you all think this is gonna be awkward hilarity but honestly? Honestly? LOOK, WE’VE COME THIS FAR WITHOUT ANGST, GUYS, AND GODDAMN IF I’M GONNA LET DOWN THE SIDE AND MAKE A FLUFF-ONLY AU WHEN I’VE GOT THE PERFECT OPPORTUNITY TO RUIN LITERALLY EVERYONE’S LIVES.
“Are you alright?” Padmé asks softly, ducking under the table just enough to clearly see the little boy hiding underneath it. Rabé and Captain Panaka and the others are in the throne room with the Jedi, still, but when she saw the unfamiliar boy peering in from the doorway and then fleeing in alarm the moment he was noticed, she couldn’t just leave him alone. “You’re not from the palace. Are you lost?”
The boy lets out another cracked little sob, and huddles back against the wall.
BUT HOW DOES HAMILTON REACT AT THE 'I AM YOUR FATHER' REVEAL? (Because I am sure he got into Star Wars knowing nothing like Jon Snow)
I’m going to combine this with @calltomuster‘s request for hamifeels
–
The first time he watches television they stare at him, rapt, as though the expect him to reel back and cry witchcraft! or else swoon like a maiden in the high heat of June. He is astonished, yes, but he does not permit himself to gawp like a savage; he says, instead, “How does it work?” It is something to do with tubes and light and satellites, apparently. Quite, quite remarkable.
The films come next. Popular culture, they call it, and once again Hamilton is struck that although man has progressed in technology the stories he tells are always the same: of love and women and blood and glory. Of course, there are some small alterations: he is first scandalised, then gratified, at the quantity of nudity onscreen – likewise with the depiction of same-sex intercourse. Tony Stark seems shocked when he watches Queer as Folk and does not immediately go to the confessional. Didn’t you study history at all, he hears Sam gloat, didn’t you read his letters.
“My children burned the good ones,” says Hamilton, smirking (and saddened, of course he is saddened; Laurens is long-gone; how he wishes he could read his sweet words again –)
Anyway. The films. “This is a classic,” says Steve Rogers. Hamilton was offered a floor in Stark Tower; he refused for several reasons, most prominent among them the fact that he despises Tony Stark and cannot bear to be anywhere near the yammering arrogant man who believes that his way is the only correct way of conducting business (what do you mean? This is not ironic, not in the slightest. Hamilton is nothing like Stark: he is certain of his own rightness, perhaps, but that is because he actually is right.)
Instead, he has rented a room in Brooklyn, sharing an apartment with Steve Rogers and his paramour Bucky Barnes. Not that they use the word paramour. Not that they even acknowledge that they live together. A strange pair, so devoted to each other that they never need speak devotion aloud: it is communicated entirely in their longing glances and lingering touches. That, and the obnoxiously loud coupling every night. On the third night of interrupted work, Hamilton recorded the racket and threatened to release it to the press if they did not keep it down.
They obliged, though Steve had the temerity to say, “Shouldn’t you be asleep at three am?” and Hamilton said nothing, only fixed him with the shadowed angry glower of a man who has just discovered the wonders of modern-day coffee.
“What is it?”
“Star Wars,” says Bucky, grinning. He smiles a lot now – and every time Steve looks at him like the expression is a rare and treasured thing. Perhaps it is. Hamilton thinks of Eliza, Laurens, Philip and aches. All he loves is dead and gone – but he has his work, his legacy, time. He can endures. If there’s a reason I’m still alive, when all who love me have died – then I’ll get the job done. Something like that. He struggles to remember the lyrics.
(This is a lie. He’s seen it eleven times. He knows every word off by heart. He has written Miranda lengthy essays on the points he got wrong.)
‘Star Wars’ may be set in the far reaches of space but it is, at its heart, a fairy story. Lost princes and princesses, tales of liberty and tyranny. Hamilton loves it.
“I am your father,” says the mechanised Vader to young Luke Skywalker (nineteen and dreaming of glory) and Hamilton’s eyes grow wide. Afterwards, he says:
“He didn’t deserve redemption.”
“What – Vader? Well –” and Steve looks like he’s about to launch into a spiel about love and doing terrible things for it, but Bucky taps his elbow. By an unspoken accord, he lapses into silence.
“He failed his son – he let him make the same mistakes he did, fall into a life of violence and blood and war. He abandoned him,” and Steve thinks how Hamilton’s father left him and his mother on some scrap of land in the Caribbean and maybe it is that –
– but then he thinks: there was once a boy who died in a duel to defend his father’s honour. And there was once a father who outlived all his children. A man who died, leaving a widow to raise eight babes alone. A man who returned when the battles had been fought and won.
He places a hand on Hamilton’s shoulder. He does not speak. What could he possibly say?
I wonder if, in superhero universes, the villains ever get contacted by those “Make a Wish Foundation” and similar people.
I mean, the heroes do, of course they do, kids who want to meet Spiderman or Superman or get to be carried by the Flash as he runs through Central City for just thirty seconds.
But surely there are also the kids, who - because they are kids and sometimes kids are just weird - decide that what they really, really want is to meet a supervillain. Because he’s scary or she’s awesome or that freeze ray is just really, really cool, you know?
Oh, man, that would absolutely be a thing. The heroes would be so weirded out by it. The villains with codes of ethics would totally band together to force the villains without one (should they be the one requested) to do their part for the cause.
But imagine the person who has to track down the villains and organise everything?
Like, the first time it happens, no one actually thinks it’s possible, but one of the newbies volunteers to at least try. They get lucky, the kid wants to meet one of the villains who is well known to have a personal code of ethics (eg one of the rogues), and it takes them weeks to track the villain down to this one bar they’ve been seen at a few times, plus a week of staking out said bar, but they finally find them.
So they approach the villain, very politely introduce themselves and explain the situation, finishing with an assurance that, should the villain agree, no law enforcement or heroes will be informed of the meeting.
The villain, assuming it’s a joke, laughs in their face.
At this point, the poor volunteer, who has giving up weeks of their time and no small amount of effort to track down this villain, all so a sweet little girl can meet the person who somehow inspired them, well, at this point the employee sees red.
They explode, yelling at this villain about the little girl who, for some unknown reason, absolutely loved them, had a hand-made stuffed toy of them and was inspired by their struggle to keeping fighting her own and wasn’t the villain supposed to have ethics? The entire bar is witness to this big bad villain getting scolded by some bookish nobody a foot shorter than them.
When the volunteer is done, the villain calmly knocks back their drink, grips the volunteers shoulder and drags them outside. The bar’s patrons assume that person will never be seen again, the volunteer included. But once they’re outside, the villain apologises for their assumption, asks for the kid’s details so they can drop by in the near future, not saying when for obvious reasons. They also give the very relieved volunteer a phone number to call if someone asks for them again.
A week later, the little girl’s room is covered in villain merchandise, several expensive and clearly stolen gifts and she is happily clutching a stack of signed polaroids of her and the villain.
The next time a kid asks to meet a villain, guess who gets that assignment?
Turns out, the first villain was quite touched by the experience of meeting their little fan, and word has gotten around. The second villain happily agrees when they realise it’s the same volunteer who asked the other guy. Unfortunately, one of the heroes sees the villain entering the kid’s hospital and obviously assumes the worst. They rush in, ready to drag the villain out, but the volunteer stands in their way. The hero spends five minutes getting scolded for trying to stop the villain from actually doing a good thing and almost ruining the kid’s wish. The volunteer gets a reputation among villains as someone who can not only be trusted with personal contact numbers but who will do everything they can to keep law enforcement away during their visits.
The volunteer has a phonebook written in cypher of all the villain’s phone numbers, with asterixes next to the ones to call if any other villains give them trouble.
Around the office, they gain the unofficial job title of The Villain Wrangler.
i adore how much Dirty Millennial Writers focus on found family as a central theme. we love it so much! we all just wanna move in together in a big house with all of our friends and marry everyone, and i think that’s nice
“Dr. Ellen Littman, author of Understanding Girls with ADHD, has studied high IQ adults and adolescents with the disorder for more than 25 years. She attributes the under-diagnosis of girls and women—estimated to be around 4 million who are not diagnosed, or half to three-quarters of all women with ADHD—and the misunderstandings that have ensued about the disorder as it manifests in females, to the early clinical studies of ADHD in the 1970s. “These studies were based on really hyperactive young white boys who were taken to clinics,” Littman says. “The diagnostic criteria were developed based on those studies. As a result, those criteria over-represent the symptoms you see in young boys, making it difficult for girls to be diagnosed unless they behave like hyperactive boys.”
ADHD does not look the same in boys and girls. Women with the disorder tend to be less hyperactive and impulsive, more disorganized, scattered, forgetful, and introverted. “They’ve alternately been anxious or depressed for years,” Littman says. “It’s this sense of not being able to hold everything together.”
Further, while a decrease in symptoms at puberty is common for boys, the opposite is true for girls, whose symptoms intensify as estrogen increases in their system, thus complicating the general perception that ADHD is resolved by puberty. One of the criteria for ADHD long held by the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual, published by the American Psychiatric Association, is that symptoms appear by age 7. While this age is expected to change to 12 in the new DSM-V, symptoms may not emerge until college for many girls, when the organizing structure of home life—parents, rules, chores, and daily, mandatory school—is eliminated, and as estrogen levels increase. “Symptoms may still be present in these girls early on,” says Dr. Pat Quinn, cofounder of The National Center for Girls and Women with ADHD. “They just might not affect functioning until a girl is older.” Even if girls do outwardly express symptoms, they are less likely to receive diagnoses. A 2009 study conducted by at The University of Queenland found that girls displaying ADHD symptoms are less likely to be referred for mental health services.”
Mitochondria may be the powerhouse of the cell, but I resent the fact that people don't care about its other functions! The mitochondrion isn't some goddess that dropped down from the sky to generate ATP! It's got a three dimensional personality and people keep type-casting it! Without mitochondria people would die of azotaemia, probably!
yeah! less typecasting and more three dimensional character development for the mitochondria!
Look at me. Look me in the eye. On November the 8th, 2016, one of two things will happen: Hillary Clinton will become president, or Donald Trump will become president. These are the only two possibilities. The superdelegates aren’t going to switch. An indictment isn’t coming. There is no third possibility. There is no space between the spaces where you can hide. Every vote for Donald Trump requires two Hilary Clinton votes to overcome. A Hillary Clinton vote can only be overcome by two Donald Trump votes. If you stay home, a Donald Trump vote doubles its power. This is the real, actual reality of the situation. There is not one other option.
And there’s no ctrl-alt-del for the election. Read up on 2000 if you doubt this.
yesterday i drove by an elementary school in dc called Horace Mann Elementary and their mascot was a centaur and it took me a second to make the connection and when i did i i almost started screaming but i was in the car with my coworker who i don’t know very well so i had to silently suffer for what felt like hours. horse man
But what if like exchanging different foods is how you get married on ALL desert planets in the Star Wars universe? Who does Anakin accidentally marry? Who does Shmi accidentally marry? Who does Luke accidentally marry?
Anakin and Padmé have literally been married since they were nine and fourteen; he’s VERY confused when she insists they have to get married AGAIN, but maybe that’s a Naboo thing?
-
“I’m sorry, I thought–you’re not already married, are you?” Cliegg asks worriedly, and Shmi gets a brief, wistful look on her face, thinking of a long-ago dinner table and the long, long-gone man who’d eaten her food and taken her Ani to a better life, who’d left her an empty house and half a box of rations from some far-off planet she will never see.
“No, he … he’s passed on, now,” she replies quietly. “And anyway, it wasn’t his people’s way.”
-
“Um,” Luke says, turning bright red. Lando gives him a puzzled look in return, wagging the mug of space hot chocolate he’s holding out to him.
“Yes or no, kid?” he asks, raising a pointed eyebrow.
“Yes!” Luke blurts, then looks horrified at himself, grabs the hot chocolate, and leaves. He comes back twenty minutes later with a triumphant, glowing expression and a bottle of Lando’s favorite space wine, which–odd, kind of, but Lando is NOT complaining.
When I first saw Deadpool on Valentine’s Day with my civilian partner, I remember leaving the theater on cloud nine, sure that my relationship could withstand anything. The movie made me feel like my job was not an obstacle to be overcome by romantic interests but a core part of me that could be embraced. I remember thinking that Morena Baccarin never had to go back to Joss Whedon to play a laterally whorephobic space courtesan because this film had allowed her to play an amazing sex worker.
…Baccarin as Vanessa is awesome and her relationship with the titular hero is everything I have ever wanted from a story about a guy dating a sex worker. And it also represented everything that I wanted from being dated as one, with the addition of bad guys, bullets, and the breaking of the fourth wall.
…Wade thinks this woman is hot and if paying is what he needs to do to spend time with her, he will. He respects her job. He doesn’t haggle. He’s kind of a douchebag, but Vanessa seems to respond well to that. At no point is there any indication that Vanessa quits her job in order to date Wade, though she does seem to stop doing full service work after he leaves. Wade makes Vanessa happy and she is the one who decides to upgrade him from client to partner. He makes his own good money so he never mooches off of hers. And she is shown to make good money, free styling in a mercenary bar, so she also doesn’t need his. Their relationship isn’t about dependence on either side, but rather seems to be based on dark humor and some really amazing sex.
…[A]fter being tortured, mutated, and disfigured by the bad guys Wade goes looking for her. Nearly dying for real and then gaining some sweet healing powers has him knowing he can go back to her. It’s all going to be okay.
Except for the disfigurement. Some strangers on the street stare at him and Wade shells up. He lets Vanessa go, convinced his looks are the only thing he has to offer her. Wade’s whole thing of killing people to get to the head bad guy isn’t just about revenge for his torture. It’s to force the head bad guy to fix his face so his girlfriend will love him again.
This entire movie is about a guy trying to be hot enough for his fiancée.
Which is one of the more progressive things it does. On the surface, this seems to demonstrate that he thinks his sex worker girlfriend is shallow. But on a deeper level, this is an action hero expressing a deep sense of insecurity. Wade honestly thinks that without his good looks he’s not worthy of a woman like Vanessa. It’s an extension of him not wanting her to see him go through cancer because that would not only rob him of his looks but also his virility and physical capabilities. It’s not just that she would watch him die, she’d watch him be weak. And when you’ve got a girlfriend who is already the strong one, who holds her own against career killers and takes charge of fighting your cancer? Well, that might make you feel like you constantly need to impress her.
The patriarchy really can fuck with men too, and it has fucked Wade hard.
And the woman Wade really wants to impress? Whom he loves more than anything? She just happens to have sex for a living. It’s not a big deal in the script and that’s why this is such a big deal. Because Vanessa’s job is a vehicle for them meeting, but it’s not her whole character. Vanessa is tough, resourceful, funny, caring, and so many other things in this film before she is her job. But because she’s introduced through her job there’s no denying that this amazing woman is a sex worker. There’s no Breakfast at Tiffany’s vagueness on the subject here. If you like Vanessa, then you like a sex worker. And if you want to be friends with Deadpool, you gotta be chill with his girlfriend being a sex worker.
WHY IS THE FILIBUSTER NOT ALL OVER MY DASH. Six hours and they’re still going. You go, Senator Murphy (D-CT).
Senate Dems are taking a stand to support background check measures, which are supported by 92% of Americans, including 87% of Republicans, and to oppose the terrorism loophole that enabled the Orlando shooter to buy an AR-15 with the ease of buying a fucking pizza. These are no-shit common-sense bipartisan measures that have ONLY been prevented because of the massive financial influence of the NRA.
Earlier today, Jo Cox, a Labour MP in Northern England, was stabbed and shot at an event in a library.
It has just been confirmed that she has died due to the attack.
She was a great campaigner and humanitarian, and has left behind a husband and two children.
This kind of event happens rarely in the UK, and so this is terrifying and destabilising that such a horrific thing has happened to such a compassionate person.
Can thoughts on Tumblr turn to the UK today please, and turn to remember a woman who has been brutally murdered after a lifetime of trying to build a better country.
Hey, I know this is super petty but I’m having a really rough day mentally and I was wondering if you could just reblog this with one (1) thing that you think is worth living for. I don’t care how trivial or whatever that you might think it is. I want to go through them all and read them because I need to read something positive tonight. Thanks, guys
The way the sun feels on your face in mid summer.
tfw you’re enjoying the perfect tea, and the dog invites himself for a cuddle on your lap
The crackle in the air right before a thunderstorm breaks, when it feels like you could just step off the edge of the world and fly.
i appreciate when characters on tv speak their native or mother language with eachother and there are subtitles in english, rather than pretending that everybody in the world speaks accented fucking english
