Latest Posts by whovianwar - Page 3

Idk why but I love this and I'm upset I'm just now finding it. Anyway... HAPPY EASTER!!!!

Supernatural: An Easter Summary

we should bring back the supernatural fandom somehow having an extremely specific gif for literally every occasion though

i know you guys are still out there. i know you still have your .gif folders. don't pretend you're not.

Purge trooper cody and Obiwan for @thelastbattlecry so this is entirely his fault

Y/N, after the fam finds out about Red Hood: Why is everyone so mad at Jason? I think he’s cool Bruce: He tried to kill us Y/N, stabs Bruce with a plastic spoon: I just tried to kill you. Do you hate me now? Bruce: Sweety I- Y/N: Discrimination

I'm just gonna go cry in a corner now 😭😭

The clone troopers hate the new nat-borns filling their ranks. They don’t teach them diddly squat. But on occasion, rare as it might be, they find one worthy of their training.

Bly is placed in charge of basic training for the Empire’s recruits. His newest batch of men is just like the last. All except one.

The kid blatantly ignores Bly’s terrible advice on how to shoot a blaster. His witty, barely veiling his disgust for the Empire. But he volunteered to be here and he keeps going.

Bly is intrigued. One day he pulls the kid aside and asks him why.

The kid talks about his escape from Corellia, how he had to leave a girl behind. Not just any girl, but “the love of my life.” And he’s here, in the Empire, so that he can go back and save her.

For reasons he can’t quite remember, that strikes a chord with Bly. He smiles and places a hand on the kid’s shoulder.

“Han, love is a powerful thing. When we fight out of love, the Force will be with us. If that’s what you’re here for, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you find her.”

Bly actually trains Han, teaches him everything he knows. Han Solo passes basic training with flying colors and Bly disappears a year or two later.

Decades later, when Solo meets Rex and Wolffe for the first time, he grins.

“Always good to meet another brother of Bly’s.”

“You had Bly?” Wedge pipes up, “I had Stone. He taught me everything I know about a blaster. Sure don’t know how those other stormtroopers can’t hit a barn with his training.”

Other Imperial defectors pipe up, kids talking about the clones who trained them. Who pulled them aside and told them they were special and actually taught them.

And it eases something deep inside Rex’s chest to know that maybe his brothers had been able to do some good after all.

Call an ambulance! ! ! ambulance!!!!!!!

How Ollo draws Clone Troopers!!

Had a lot of fun with this, as much as I ended up hyper fixating on it and therefore staying up too late and resulting in me being extremely tired 😅

Anywho, here's a tutorial for how I draw my clone troopers! It's just a simple little thing, but I hope it's somewhat useful for those who have asked about it?? If I miss anything, or you have any additional questions feel free to toss me an ask and I will try and answer as best I can!!

I admittedly work mostly digital, so if you're working in traditional, try and adapt these as best as you can to your mediums!! 💕💖💕

My Ko-Fi is here!!

LISTEN, I WILL DIE ON THE HILL OF STANNING MACE WINDU AS AN AMAZING JEDI. I love that each Jedi is amazing for themselves, that each one is the best Jedi they can be, that being a True Jedi is about what that means for them themselves, but if you asked me to point to a Jedi that embodies so much of their philosophy and compassion and all the best of them?  Mace Windu is on that list in a heartbeat. Mace was a stern-face person, yes, but he cared very deeply about the Jedi Order and about the people around him.

Look at his face, as he’s worried about Yoda!  THAT IS SOMEONE WHO CARES DEEPLY. He also cared about standing up for the last Zillo beast in existence, even when he knew that there wasn’t much chance he could do anything.

He also cared about protecting and saving the clones around him.

He also cared about Anakin–he defends him to Obi-Wan in the Attack of the Clones deleted scenes, telling Obi-Wan to trust him.  He banters with Anakin while overseeing the cadets in The Clone Wars.  He believes Anakin immediately in Revenge of the Sith, even after Anakin accepted Palpatine’s nepotism.  He tells Anakin to stay back when they go to arrest Palpatine because he’s protecting Anakin. Even when Anakin was being kind of a shit when he wasn’t granted the unearned rank of Master (and had just accepted Palpatine putting him onto the Council, rather than earning it himself), Mace is never more than mildly stern with him at most.  Frankly, Anakin deserved a lot more than someone being mildly stern at him (he may not have asked for Palpatine to put him on the Council, but he accepted it and then was upset when he wasn’t granted the rank of Master, yeah, no shit Mace told him to take a seat). He cared about Prosset Dibs, who tried to murder him because he was falling to the dark side, and Mace turned around and said Prosset was as much a victim of this war as anyone, that he shouldn’t be faulted for it, that it was their duty to bring him back to the light.  They sent him to work in the Archives, where he was presumably free to continue to make his own choices.

He advocated for leniency and rehabilitation for Boba Fett, rather than having him sent to prison as a child, even though he was ignored. He struggled with the Jedi being drafted into the war, because they weren’t meant to be soldiers in this way, but the Republic seemed to need them, people were going to die if the Jedi didn’t step up to help, and yet Mace still clearly struggled with this decision because there were no easy answers and he cared deeply.

THAT IS NOT THE FACE OF SOMEONE WHO DOESN’T CARE. Mace also has his softer moments, look at his gentle warmth with the young Twi’lek girl from Star Wars Adventures:

He had a fun side–he was a theater actor and I would have paid CASH MONEY to see that!

He and Yoda had an absolute JOY of a friendship–that conversation they have about what Queen Julia sees in Jar Jar just reeks of two old friends who have spent decades ribbing each other. Or look at the gif above where Mace is deeply worried about Yoda! Or  ANY TIME THEY SIDE EYE EACH OTHER. THEY ARE SO MUCH FUN.

Mace was also incredibly patient with Jar Jar–yes, he expressed some frustration at times (but literally everyone does with Jar Jar, from Qui-Gon to Obi-Wan to Padme to Bail, he takes time to grow on you), but he warmed up quickly to Jar Jar and was so gently warm with him by the end, when Jar Jar says they make a great team, the respect and affection in Mace’s voice when he says, “Indeed.” is plain to hear. And that’s not to say Mace was perfect, he absolutely had to struggle to get to where he is, and that’s one of the reasons I admire his character so much. He wasn’t born with his cool and calm demeanor, he had fire and anger inside of him–

Because he cared–he was angry at what was happening on Mathas, to its people, the way they were being scammed by a conman pretending to be a Jedi, he was angry about the misuse of the name of the Jedi, and that was something he genuinely had to work on. Cyslin Myr says, “A fire burns inside you, Padawan.  That, in itself, is not inherently wrong.  It is my job to help you temper it.  This is why I chose you to accompany me on missions.”

Because Mace’s heart hangs heavy to see the suffering of these people, he’s angry that they’re hurting this way, and he has to temper those feelings. Mace Windu is not an angry man, not because he is unfamiliar with anger, but because he has faced himself and strengthened himself and tempered himself, through his faith, through his religion, through his culture, through his connections to others, through his self-reflection, through his Jedi beliefs. Mace is a character whom I love dearly because he’s so much of what I admire about how he’s defined himself, how much he cares about those around him, how he continued to offer compassion even when he knew it was futile, whether it was fighting for the Zillo beast or Boba or offering battle droids a better path, Mace Windu believed in the ideals of the Jedi Order and was true to his faith. MACE WINDU WAS AN INCREDIBLE JEDI AND AN INCREDIBLE PERSON. AND ALSO THE CUTEST BB YOU HAVE EVER SEEN OH MY GOD:

this kid is 14 oh my god is no one teaching children to protect themselves online anymore…

Aannnddd now this is gonna be stuck in my head rent free lol

Okay but what about a kinda-funny-kinda-depressing post-rots AU where Obi-Wan joined the rebellion?

Imagine young rebels, sharing scary rumours about the mysterious and deadly Imperial commander with a black suit and a red lightsaber, and Obi-Wan Kenobi is sitting right here. 

“I heard Vader can destroy entire fleets with his mind.” 

“I heard he’s too much of a machine to really die.”

“He took a hula-hoop class in secret at 15 to impress his crush,” Obi-Wan adds suddenly. 

And all the rebels turn towards the washed-up general, who is a legend, sure, but also keeps throwing these insane facts about Vader, so everyone knows that he’s not quite right in the head, but you can’t say that to The Last Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, so they’re like, “okay Mr Kenobi, how many glasses of brandy did you have? I think it’s time for you to go to bed now.”

“He wanted to adopt a loth-cat as a teen.”

“Sure, Mr Kenobi.” 

“I should have let him have his loth-cat, it would have been good for him.”

“Of course, Mr Kenobi.”

US Elevation.

by @cstats1

Soft and Light & Dark and Hard

Warnings: Implied Smut. Some dirty talk.  Purgatory!Dean. (Look at that gif - it needs a warning!) Canon type violence.

Summary: What happened between when Dean popped out of purgatory and when he resurrected Benny. There's a "four days later" section of time that is unaccounted for. This is my attempt to fill that time.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader (Y/N)

Word Count: 2685

A/N: This was an idea that wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it.

I LOVE Purgatory!Dean. Hope you enjoy - there might be a sequel.

😉 Unbeta’d. All mistakes are mine. 😊

Y/N’s dad would have been very disappointed in her. She was no hunter, he’d made sure of that, but he’d certainly taught her to keep her wits about her and made sure she knew how to protect herself.

Yet, here she was, slammed against the cabin wall, with what felt like a band of iron at her throat. The man’s forearm wasn’t crushing her windpipe, but it was pressing hard enough that if she struggled at all, she would crush it herself. She was made completely immobile by him. He towered over her, pinning her body against the wall easily with his own, much larger one.

She stared up at him and, despite her best efforts, knew her terror was evident.

The man was filthy, covered in blood and mud. His face was almost obscured by it, his brilliant green eyes sparkling dangerously out of the mostly dark, late evening.

She looked down at the massive fist that held a knife to her heart and was suddenly sure she was going to die at the hands of this bloody stranger. Without warning she felt tears well up in her eyes. It wasn’t often that she cried, but she’d promised her father she would take care of herself and stay safe and she hadn’t even lasted a full week without him.

She closed her eyes and felt a tear escape to trickle down her cheek.

Suddenly the weight of the man’s body was gone. She opened her eyes in time to see him take his forearm from her throat and step back.

“Who are you?” He asked, his voice a literal growl. It was exactly what she had expected this man to sound like.

She tried to rally her scattered, terrified senses and take stock of the new situation. The man had let her go, he was still holding the knife, but it was lowered at his side. Progress.

“Y/N.” She answered, stuttering slightly.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, his voice less of a growl, but still impossibly deep.

“I…this is where I live.” Y/N said, which wasn’t one hundred percent accurate, but it was close to the truth and she didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t anger him.

The man’s scowl deepened, Y/N hadn’t believed that to be possible. “This is Rufus Turner’s cabin. Are you related to Rufus somehow?”

A light bulb went off and Y/N began to understand; at least she hoped she did.

“I’m sorry. No…I…yes, it was Rufus’ cabin. But…I don’t know if you know, he’s…he’s passed away now. My Dad told me about the cabin a little while ago and when I had nowhere else to go, I came here. I’ve been here about a week and…well, it’s started to feel like home I guess. And my attention was…well, I was distracted coming back up here. I didn’t know you were in here until I came through the door, or I would have let you know I was coming, called out or something. But the…the lights were all off.”

She knew she was rambling. The man’s utter stillness and intense stare were very disconcerting and when she was nervous she tended to babble.

She cleared her throat and tried again. “You’re…you’re a hunter, aren’t you? A friend of Rufus’? My Dad told me other hunters used the cabin sometimes too.”

The man was silent for another minute, long enough to make Y/N begin to squirm. His piercing green gaze was unnerving but also slightly mesmerizing and Y/N began to feel a little like she was in a trance.

Finally she saw the man relax ever so slightly, and put the knife away in an inside pocket of his dirty leather coat.

“Yes.”

He’d been silent so long it took Y/N a moment to remember what she’d asked. But then she remembered he was confirming he was hunter and a friend of Rufus’.

“You can’t stay here.” The man said bluntly before turning away to light the two kerosene lamps that sat on the table.

“What, why?” Y/N asked, taken aback.

“Because I’m staying here.”

Y/N’s fear of the man fled in the face of his absolute audacity.

“Um…excuse me…you don’t own this cabin. Rufus left it for any hunters to use, not just you.”

The man turned back to face her and in the now bright room she could see, even through the layers of muck and blood, that the man standing in front of her was unbelievably beautiful.

His face was sculpted into perfect lines and planes, like a master artist had carved him out. His jaw was strong, cut square and sharp and his cheekbones were high and flawlessly chiseled. His lips, however, were molded by more gentle hands, full and lush. Y/N was suddenly aware of a desperate desire to run her thumb across his ripe bottom lip, something she didn’t think she had ever desired in her life before.

It took Y/N a moment to realize the man had said something, asked her a question maybe? Her brain was suddenly mush and she had to give herself a little shake to recover.

“What?” she asked stupidly, realizing her distracted response was likely undercutting her argument a little.

“Are you a hunter?” The man asked again, annoyance clear in his tone.

Y/N was tempted to lie and say yes, but she was nearly positive this man would see right through her.

“No. But…”

“Exactly. Then Rufus didn’t leave you anything.” The man said, turning away to the table again to begin rummaging through a backpack that sat there.

Y/N could feel her temper flare again at the man’s abrupt dismissal. She folded her arms and began to tap her foot.

“I don’t see why we can’t just both stay here. There’s plenty of room.”

“Because I have crap to do and I don’t need a civilian getting in my way.” The man answered in his growling voice again as he swiveled back around to face her.

Y/N stomped up to him. She wished she’d stopped a little further back so she wouldn’t have to crane her neck quite so much to look up at him, feeling, inexplicably, that his immense height gave him a slight advantage in the argument.

Y/N tried to make up for this by pushing a finger into the middle of his chest. “Look, buddy. I may not be a hunter, but I’m hardly a civilian. My dad’s been a hunter my whole life. I know what goes bump in the night okay.”

The man scoffed and flicked her finger off of him like she was a bothersome fly. “Great why don’t you call your dad to come get you out of my hair?”

“Because I burned his body to ash a week ago.”

Y/N clamped a hand over her mouth as though she’d said a bad word, or spilled a secret. She was silent for a minute, her mind reeling.

She shook her head and spoke from behind her hand. “That’s…I didn’t mean to…” she sat suddenly, glad there happened to be a chair behind her.

Her hand fell into her lap. “That’s the first time I’ve said it… that…that he’s dead. I haven’t heard the words.”

Y/N felt her throat constrict around the lump of unshed tears forming there. She looked up at the man standing in front of her, his expression inscrutable. She smiled weakly.

“Sorry about this.” She waved her hand toward herself. “It’s been a hard week.”

The man tilted his head slightly before he sighed deeply and pulled up the other chair and sat. He rubbed his hand across his face. “Yeah, me too.”

A silent moment passed before he spoke again. “What was his name, your dad?”

Y/N swiped at the two tears that had managed to escape, marveling at the fact that she had now cried twice in front of this stranger. That was more tears than she had shed in years.

“Steven Lane.”

The man shook his head. “I didn’t know him.” He caught Y/N’s gaze again. “I’m sorry.”

Y/N shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah, me too.” She said, echoing his earlier statement. A sudden realization dawned on her. “I don’t even know your name. Sorry, I didn’t ask. Rude.” She smiled.

He didn’t return the smile, but stared at her hard for a minute. She soon realized her mistake; most hunters didn’t like to give out a lot of information to strangers.

“Sorry.” She said quickly. “You don’t…”

“Dean.” He interrupted.

Y/N nodded absently for a second before her eyes widened and her mouth dropped into an “O”. Fragments of information began to filter into her mind and she started to piece them together. His size, his speed and agility when he’d pounced on her coming in the door, his fierce demeanor, his aura of power and strength, his ridiculous good looks.

His bright green eyes.

“Winchester?” She asked in a whisper before answering herself. “You’re Dean Winchester.”

She’d heard the stories of the Winchesters almost her whole life. First John. Then Sam…and Dean.

He nodded abruptly and looked away. She was suddenly, acutely aware that she was basically fangirling over him. She shook her head and tried to get a grip.

“Sorry.” She said, apologizing for what felt like the hundredth time since coming through the door. “I...it’s just…I know who you are.”

Then one more piece of information filtered into her frazzled mind. “I thought you were dead.”

Dean slapped his palms onto his thighs before rising from the chair. “Yeah, I get that a lot.” He grabbed up the backpack from the table and moved toward the couch. “Look, I just need the day tomorrow and then I’ll be out of here. But I don’t want to answer a lot of questions okay, so let’s just stay out of each other’s way.”

Y/N nodded slowly. “Sure, we can draw a line down the center of the cabin a la ‘I Love Lucy’.”

Dean looked back at her, his expression saying he was unimpressed with her attempt at humor. Then suddenly his face crumpled and he grabbed his left arm tightly, a small grunt of pain escaping him.

Y/N jumped up. “Or you can let me look at your arm and patch you up.”

Dean stepped away from Y/N quickly. “It’s fine. Just a cut. It’s healing.”

“Well, let me look at it.”

“No!” Dean barked at her, all his tense anger returning. “This is exactly my point. I’m fine and I don’t need anyone poking at me.”

Another wave of pain hit him and he half sat and half fell on the couch. His teeth were bared in a painful grimace as he pressed hard on his forearm. Y/N was very used to dealing with salty hunters who were too stubborn to listen to reason. She grabbed the first aid kit from the kitchen counter and returned to stand in front of Dean.

“Take off your jacket and pull up your sleeve.” Y/N ordered, feeling surefooted for the first time since walking into the cabin that evening. This was what she did. This was how she fought the good fight. She was a healer. Never able to go to school like a normal kid because of the life she and her dad lived, Y/N had, nevertheless, excelled in science and had always wanted to be a doctor.

That was impossible, of course, she knew she'd never become a doctor with her shoddy schooling record. So she learned to be a healer. She taught herself. She studied medicine, folklore, magic, and botany and combined them to become a hunter healer. She took care of her dad, but also all of her dad’s friends and a lot of victims that her Dad and his friends managed to save.

So she issued her directive and expected Dean would listen. But he ignored her easily. Not daunted, she simply climbed onto his lap, straddling him and pushing the jacket off his shoulders. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d forced healing onto someone bound and determined to suffer.

But in her comfort in her role as a healer she had momentarily forgotten that she wasn’t dealing with an old hunter or a traumatized victim. In spite of the pain in his arm, Dean was a virile, powerful, healthy, grown man; a hunter legendary for his strength and skill.

He grabbed her wrists tightly and she gasped as she was startled back to the reality that she was sitting in Dean Winchester’s lap and he had complete control over the situation. For some reason that idea, an idea that should have scared her, instead caused her stomach to tighten and heat to pool at her core.

Dean continued to hold her wrists firmly, but not painfully as he shrugged his jacket back onto his shoulders. He lowered their hands to rest between their bodies on his lap.

“I said, I’m fine.” His voice was a low rumble in his chest and it fell on Y/N’s ears like a drop of smooth bourbon on the tongue.

He let go of her wrists but made no move to get her off his lap. Y/N didn’t want to move, so she reached into the first aid kit and pulled out some rubbing alcohol and gauze.

“At least let me take care of some of this blood and these cuts on your face.” She said, her voice more of a ragged whisper than she’d meant it to be.

Dean shook his head slightly. “Most of it isn’t my blood.” But he didn’t stop her from reaching out and gently cleaning away some of the blood and mud from the small scratches and wounds along his hairline.

Y/N could feel Dean’s scorching gaze intent upon her face as she worked. It made her breath catch and her hands tremble slightly and she desperately avoided catching his eye for fear her heart would just stop beating.

There was a small abrasion on his chin and as Y/N dabbed at it gently with the gauze, her focus shifted to Dean’s plush bottom lip. It looked so soft, such a contrast to the rest of him. Her thumb was so close now; she could probably get away with touching it under the guise of checking his lip.

And before she could stop herself or admonish herself for her lack of boundaries and propriety, she was swiping her thumb along the silky smooth line of his lip. She heard a quick inhale and couldn’t actually tell if it came from Dean or her. Her thumb rested in the middle of his lip and almost reflexively Dean’s tongue pressed gently against it, before pulling the very tip in between his teeth and biting softly.

Y/N slid her gaze to his finally and the smoldering heat she found there did indeed make her heart skip several beats. Her breathing more ragged than ever, she pulled her hand away and replaced it with her lips. The kiss was chaste and soft, her movements deliberately slow, giving him ample opportunity to pull away or push her off of him.

When she pulled back slightly his eyes were still open and he studied her. When he finally spoke his voice was so soft and low she could only just make out his words.

“You shouldn’t stay here, Y/N. You should move.”

“Do you want me to?”

“You should want to.”

“Why?”

Dean grabbed hold of Y/N’s hips and pressed her down on his lap so that she could feel the hard bulge that pushed against the front of his jeans. Y/N’s eyes widened and Dean nodded.

“Because I really don’t want you to. I want you to stay right where you are. I want to rip the clothes from your body and taste your skin. I want to pound into you until oblivion hits. Because it’s been too long and I don’t have it in me to be gentle.” He paused and grabbed Y/N’s face between his palms.

He pulled her lips to his and crushed them against his own. His tongue swept into her mouth, hot, hard and wet. He pulled away only far enough to pull her bottom lip into his mouth and suck on it before biting down, leaving an imprint of his sharp white teeth in the soft skin.

“No, I won’t be gentle.”

Y/N felt a shudder of anticipation race through her.

"Don't be.”

♥️💙♥️💙♥️💙

I wish I could draw people 😭😭😭

[Image ID: Digital painting of Commander Fox and Riyo Chuchi from Star Wars: the Clone Wars. They are depicted standing in a Coruscant alleyway, shown facing one another from the knees up. Riyo wears a light purple dress with gold ornamentation and a dark indigo shawl with sweeping designs. Her headpiece and hairstyle is similar to hers in the Orto Plutonia arc, added teal beads the only difference. She is on the left and looking up at Commander Fox, who is in his standard Coruscant Guard Armor sans helmet. Riyo looks concerned, while Fox is downcast. The two are holding hands. End ID.] Thanks to @padme–amygdala for letting me add their image ID to this post!

This doubles as fanart from @amukmuk‘s amazing fic, “Perception,” and as a contribution to day six (Secret: private, secluded, undercover) of @foxiyoweek. :)

I won’t spoil anything, but in this scene, Fox was just reminded of how low many people’s opinions of clones are. It makes me angry and breaks my heart at the same time. T____T

I had sooo much fun with the paint job on Fox’s Phase I armor, and playing around with Riyo’s fancy outfit was challenging but also a good time!

Timelapse

AO3

Twitch

They all hate you Mando, because you’re a legend.

i just wanted an excuse to draw Mando shirtless :’)

This is beyond gorgeous and deserves more likes/reblogs

😍😍😍

Painting I did an all-nighter for to finish. This shot of Santiago “Pope” was an image conjured from my brain, and I couldn’t resist painting it. Hope you like :D 

All for now, Hulia out xo

by rights Obi-wan should have been able to talk Anakin down, when you think about it

original post: (x)

requested by @a-smiling-travesty​

Pedro Pascal Characters reacting to the ‘I want a baby’ text

PSA: I’m sure I’m not the first person to do this with Pedro characters, this is just my take on it :)

Ezra Prospect

Frankie Morales

Javier Peña

Jack Daniels

Marcus Pike

Marcus Moreno

Din Djarin

Max Phillips

Is... Is this good or bad?? I don't know anything anymore 😅

Gonna make a uquiz. that’s gonna blow tumblr wide open.

I just want to run my fingers through his hair and play with the strands right now 🥰🥺

Pedro Pascal for Santos de Cartier watches (4/5)

Excuse me while I go cry now 😭😭😭

Extremely sad headcanon:

(Tw: death)

Another reasons clones get unique hair cuts and tattoos on their faces (besides being individuals) is so when they look at their fallen brothers they don’t have to see their own face.

Someone sent me an ask gushing about some Boba Fett’s lines from the show and I typed up a whole “I KNOW RIGHT” response and managed to delete the whole thing. 

And it’s not like I’ve listened to certain bits of dialogue repeatedly or made MP3s or anything but if I HAD here are the lines I would have chosen: 

Careful, princess

Easy there little one

Power up those shields, princess. I’ll put on a good show.

Any requests??? I’ve got Audacity fired up and ready to go. 

I've got three different body pillows and a weighted blanket. Sometimes I'll sandwich myself between two of the pillows under the blanket to simulate someone(s) cuddling with me 😅🥺

Weighted blanket crew rise up!!! 🤣🤣

Really though...its the best thing ever! And I may have to invest in that boyfriend pillow you mentioned cuz I think we all a little lonely right now and that's okay 💜

From Ashes to Embers (1/?)

As a pilot in the first order, you’ve learned to fly under the radar. When you’re caught by General Hux using your force abilities, he puts you in the path of none other than Supreme Leader Kylo Ren. Down a knight, Kylo unwilling brings you along on a mission, but will his generosity come with consequences when he discovers your true identity? Or will ashes turn to embers as the force brands an unbreakable bond between you?

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

Character Profiles 

Prologue 

You can also find this story on Ao3

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count:3.8K

Warnings: Mentions of death, mature language, violence, mentions of abandonment 

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you push the ion engines of your TIE-Inceptor to their limit. You’re on the tail of rebel ships while they weave in and out of space debris. You were sent on a mission with one other pilot in the First Order to flush out rebel ships following too closely to a weapons shipment. General Hux gave you and your counterpart one task: destroy the enemies before they obtained your firepower for the resistance. You have no intention of failing.

Keep reading

#bigdickenergy

Ok so hear me out here.

The knights of Ren totally love Lieutenant Mitaka

Crazy, I know but just listen up.

Part one

I like to think that Mitaka is a great baker. (Like amazing cookies, bomb pastries etc) and he leaves them in the officer common area for others to enjoy.

Now the knights don’t usually visit the common area. Why would they, they don’t need to. But anyways they do one time and the see this chocolate chip cookies laying there on the table. And them being the people they are they all take one because food.

They get to eating them and they’re like mmmmm! These are really good!

And they want to find out who made them so they harass the next unexpecting officer on break to see who made the melt in your mouth fluffy goodness.

And the officer is just like oh yeah mitaka made those. He makes them every Thursday to bring in just for a fun treat.

And the Knights are impressed. The chefs on the ship are good but they’re not this good.

So now they’re off to find the lil lieutenant baker.

And when they find him he’s supper scarred.

Why are six big burly looking men suddenly standing in his office with serious looks on their faces. Has he done something wrong?

So mitaka stutters out a l-listen kn-kn-knights....

And it takes all the power of the knights not to burst into to laughter because it looks as though mitaka might pee himself.

One of them finally speaks up and says we really like your baking man. It’s great, like you have a talent.

Mitaka is stunned but with a slight blush and a beaming smile he thanks the knights. He says he learned to bake from his mom and that he quite enjoys doing it.

The knights inform him that they have a mission tomorrow. Not a huge important one but one where they still have to leave the ship for a few days. That asked him to make them some cookies for they’re trip. Of course Mitaka agrees with a swift nod. He assured them he will bake them a batch to take with them.

Next day rolls around and low and behold before they disembark on their mission mitaka hands each of them a quart bag of cookies.

Now since they have masks on you can’t see they’re bright smiles and shiny eyes. But they each thank mitaka and give him a small nod before they head to they’re to ship and leave.

The target I work at has a skeleton that’s been our mascot. His name is Mr. Bones. We pose him every night.

Then we gave him a jacket and let him fold clothes

And then we let him get a nice drink at Starbucks

Sometimes work can be too hard on him

Everyone, especially our guests, love Mr. Bones and take pictures with/of him. I will keep everyone updated on his adventures

BEYOND obsessed with this house in fort worth, texas i mean

okay pretty normal, let’s look at the interior photos—

WHAT THE FUCK

here we see the first example of a pattern that will recur throughout the house, which is that once your eyes adjust to the bonkers dictator chic marble-and-gilded-everything, you notice some pretty egregiously shoddy workmanship. look at how that baseboard intersects with the outlet. look at how the marble… uh, thing on the wall (i was gonna call it a fireplace but it’s not a fireplace, i have no idea what that is) has gaps and weird angles wherever two pieces meet. it’s like they’re trying to recreate versailles on an ikea budget

i… don’t hate the kitchen. i mean, obviously it’s ugly and #toomuch and there was zero effort made to match the very modern appliances and sink to the cabinets, but still, i’m a sucker for a pass-through and a big sink with a window above it.

this ceiling Fucks but the wrinkly, uneven curtains and terrible caulking around the faux-column in the middle anti-Fuck

why did we suddenly completely switch aesthetics. why is there an old TV set into the wall at floor level. why is there a tiny set of doors next to it. why does the fireplace look like an asset ripped from the original dark souls. i feel a sinister presence sucking at my soul the longer i look at this photo

i feel like whoever designed this monstrosity started with the dining room and then once they’d finished it realized they’d blown half their budget on just this one room. it’s so overdecorated that the gaudiness feels intentional, like it’s a statement rather than a side effect of genuine tastelessness. i can applaud that.

here we have the antithesis of the dining room. i don’t know what this room is supposed to be but i hate it. i’m pretty sure everything in this photo literally came from ikea. there is a lack of commitment here and it is rancid

ladies, gentlemen, distinguished colleagues, we have now hit the cornerstone of any great tacky real estate listing: the heart-shaped bathtub! this one gets bonus points for being next to a gilded mirror and surrounded by bright red damask wallpaper. as a bathtub i’d give it a 1/10 because those angles look incredibly uncomfortable, but as a place to shoot my lover through the heart while wearing a gauzy fur-trimmed bathrobe before fleeing with our ill-gotten fortune i’d give it a solid 11/10

here we are with the lack of commitment again. this literally looks like the kitchen in my college dorm but with a weird fringey lamp and some curtains that are absolutely too long for their windows

again, the mix of styles here is just killing me. half damask wallpaper and carved wall panels, half normal-ass bathroom? really? isn’t there anything truly unhinged left in this house? anything truly opulent, decadent, off the chain, extravagant, gaudy—

THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT BAY BEE!!! THAT’S MORE THE FUCK LIKE IT!!! COMMIT! TO! THE! BIT! GO BIG OR GO HOME! IF YOU’RE GONNA STICK A CEILING DOME IN THE FOYER OF YOUR SUBURBAN TEXAS HOUSE IT HAD BETTER BE TWELVE FEET IN DIAMETER AND PAINTED WITH DOZENS OF FLOWERS OR ELSE WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE EVEN DOING HERE??

and finally, to close out the show, a reminder that this entire acid trip of a real estate listing took place in an ordinary, modern single-story house in texas, one with a backyard and utility boxes on the exterior walls and neighbors who may be blissfully unaware that they live mere feet from a yawning pit of madness.

i love tacky real estate listings.

Steve Rogers || what’s in your head

So...I already have a thing for suits...and Mando...I guess I have another thing now 😍😍😍

Stunning Mandalorian art by @fayren on Twitter