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illuminatedquill · 6 months

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Sabine Wren

Short Cuts

Story Summary: A short series of scenes featuring Sabine Wren occurring throughout the first season of Ahsoka that help fill in the narrative gaps left by the hat man (Sabezra focused, of course).

Author's Note: I was super bored at work today and came up with some more headcanons for stuff that should have happened during Ahsoka. Enjoy.

One Last Thing Before I Go

Sabine Wren x Ryder Azadi

(Takes place near the end of Ahsoka 1x02, Toil and Trouble. Sabine visits Governor Azadi to ask for some last favors before she leaves.)

The intercom on Governor Azadi's desk chirped, signaling an incoming message from his secretary. He clicked the channel open.

"Azadi here. Go ahead," he said, scribbling away on some forms.

"There is a Sabine Wren here for you, Governor."

Ah, he thought. Decision time.

"Send her up, please," he replied.

His secretary, sounding flustered, said, "She, uh - never mind, she's already on her way to see you, sir."

Azadi sighed. "Of course she is." Formal decorum never was Sabine's style.

The doors to his office hissed open - and a Mandalorian walked in.

Azadi's eyebrows climbed up his forehead in surprise until he recognized the familiar color scheme. Few Mandalorians painted their armor in such a vivid array of colors.

In fact, he knew only one.

A slow smile spread across his face. "Well, well," he drawled. "Don't you look spiffy."

The Mandalorian took off her helmet, revealing Sabine Wren - with a freshly shorn haircut. She had on a cocky grin and her eyes glinted with fierce determination.

Azadi felt his heart soar. Now that's the Sabine I remember, he thought.

"Still fits," she replied, showing off her armor.

"That it does," Azadi agreed. "I take it this means you're partnering up with Ahsoka again?"

"Yeah. We'll be on our way, shortly."

"Good, good." Azadi was in disbelief of Sabine's involvement when Ahsoka showed up and told him of her plans to ask for her help - until she revealed what was at stake.

Or rather, who was at stake.

"And your wound? It's not bothering you?" he asked.

Sabine reached down to her abdomen almost instinctively. "What, this? Nah, it's fine. All good to go," she said, dismissively.

Azadi snorted. "You were stabbed by a lightsaber, Sabine. Not very many people just walk that injury off."

She shrugged. "It's fine, Ryder." Her eyes flashed, dangerously. "I plan to pay it back, don't worry."

"Glad to hear it," Azadi said, firmly. "Anything else I can do for you before leaving?"

Sabine reached up and rubbed the back of her neck - a nervous gesture that sent a mysterious sharp pang of nostalgia through Azadi.

So familiar . . .

"Yeah, if that's alright with you."

"Of course. Name it."

Sabine looked at him. "First - I need someone to feed my loth-cat, Murley."

Azadi blinked. "You want - what?"

"Someone needs to feed my loth-cat. Twice a day. And probably play with him, too."

Azadi blinked again. "And . . . who do you have in mind for that?"

Sabine tapped a finger on her chin and smirked. "You could send one of those hotshot pilots you had chasing me down the speed-way the other day."

Azadi rolled his eyes. "You want me to use military resources to feed your cat."

"Yeah. If that isn't too hard for them."

"Sabine," replied Azadi, steadily, "if you're going to be annoyed, do it at me. I gave the order."

Her eyes flashed again. Azadi braced himself.

"You knew I wasn't going to show up at that ceremony. Haven't done so for years."

Azadi leaned forward, irritation creeping into his voice. "You're not the only one who misses Ezra. That ceremony is meant as a token of respect and gratitude towards everyone else who sacrificed and lost that day!"

He jabbed a finger at her. "What about them, Sabine? You forget about everyone else just because their name isn't Ezra Bridger?"

The smirk vanished in an instant. Sabine took a step backwards, rubbing at the back of her neck again in embarrassment.

Why is that so familiar to me?

Azadi took the moment to calm himself down. Way to go, old man, he thought. What a role model you are.

"I'm sorry," he said, quietly. "I know Ezra meant a lot to you."

"No - no, you're right," she admitted. "I was being selfish."

Azadi hesitated for a moment, thinking - and decided to push forward anyway. "You were also being scared. Which isn't like you."

Sabine looked up at him. "You think I was running away."

"Yes," he confessed. "I was tired of seeing you run away from . . . everything. Life."

She was quiet for long moment, processing this. "I've been running my whole life, Ryder," Sabine said, sadly.

He studied her. "This trip with Ahsoka - are you still running?"

Sabine considered her answer for a few seconds and then spoke, confidently, "Yes. But the difference is I'm running to something now. Not away."

Running to someone, you mean, Azadi thought. I know your price. But the answer was sufficient for him.

He drummed his fingers on the desk, thinking. "I'll send one of my assistants to check on your loth-cat while you're away, Sabine. You have my word."

Her shoulders sagged with relief. "Thanks, Ryder."

Azadi nodded. "Anything else?"

Sabine dug in her pockets and pulled out a hastily folded form. "Your secretary insisted I fill one of these out. It's an official request."

Azadi took and scanned the document. Smiling, he said, "Consider it done."

Sabine, in a surprisingly formal move, bowed her head. "I appreciate the help, Governor Azadi."

He blinked and bowed his head in return. "Of course, Commander Wren."

She turned to go - and paused. Rubbing the back of her neck again, he saw the embarrassed look -

And it clicked. The pang of nostalgia ran through him again, and he knew why the gesture looked so familiar to him.

Ezra used to do that. Whenever the boy was feeling flustered or unsure.

His heart ached - and not just for the lost Jedi. Oh, Sabine.

"Something else, Sabine?"

"I just - I just wanted to say thank you. For letting me stay on Lothal all these years."

For a moment, Azadi saw the young girl again, still in her teens, with the weight of a galaxy on her shoulders.

"Lothal will always be a home for you, Sabine. Wherever you go," he replied, a tear running down his face.

Sabine turned to him and smiled - a true smile, not her trademark smirk or mischievous grin; something he hadn't seen her do in years.

"I'll bring him home, Ryder," she promised. And she turned, departing with a wave.

Azadi wiped the tear from his face and looked down at the request she had given him once more:

COMMANDER WREN

REQUEST TO GOVERNOR AZADI

REGARDING THE MEMORIAL FOR THOSE FALLEN AT THE BATTLE OF LOTHAL

PLEASE REMOVE ONE NAME FROM THE MEMORIAL DUE TO ERRONEOUS SUBMISSION

NAME IS: EZRA BRIDGER

Azadi looked at the closed doorway where Sabine had left.

Softly, he said to the empty room, "Make sure you come back home, too, Sabine."

Down Time

Sabine Wren x Ezra Bridger

(Takes place during Ahsoka 1x07, Dreams and Madness. An extended version of Sabine and Ezra's conversation.)

Ezra was babbling again. Something about the Noti, their culture and their language.

Normally, Sabine would be listening with feigned interest but she just laid her head back on the weird dome that served as the nomadic crab people's domiciles/vehicles.

Her boots were propped in front of her and she just let Ezra talk.

The same thoughts kept cycling in her head, unceasingly.

Ezra's here.

He's alive. He's safe.

A small, dark voice in the corner of her mind interjected: he doesn't know what you did.

She locked down that train of thought, viciously. She would deal with that later.

For now, she just wanted to hear Ezra's voice; real, warm, and alive. Not being filtered through a holo-recording.

That alone made it all worth it. Just hearing him talk, in real time.

Sabine felt a sharp poke on her cheek. "Hellooo. Is this thing on?"

She grinned and said, "Just taking in the view, Ezra."

"Ah, yes," replied Ezra, dryly. "Peridea is famous for it's barren wastelands."

Sabine waved at the caravan surrounding them. "The locals are nice, though."

"True," Ezra admitted. "The Noti are nice. Saved my life a couple times."

Sabine stared at the open, grey sky. "Does it ever lighten up around here?"

Ezra shook his head. "Not really. Not much in the way of sun, around here." He cocked his head, thinking. "The nights are beautiful, though."

He considered it for a long moment, then admitted, "More beautiful than Lothal's nights. Hard for me to say that."

Sabine's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Wow. That's saying a lot." She knew from many late nights just how beautiful the starry skies over Lothal looked.

Ezra shrugged. "At least, from what I remember. It's been a while."

Sabine winced. That last part had come out a little too casually.

"You can see a lot, at night?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah." Ezra's eyes lit up, as he said, excitedly, "You can see whole galaxies and nebulas - everything, Sabine. It's totally wizard."

She smiled at his wonder. "I'll take your word for it."

"I used to look up at the night and wonder which galaxy was home, you know," he said, his smile fading a little.

Sabine felt her own fading in response. "Did you ever figure it out?"

He shook his head. "No. I'd just choose a random one and . . . talk, I guess. Tried reaching out with the Force, to see if someone could get a message."

Ezra said, ruefully, "Didn't work, as you can see. But I still talked. Pretended it was Hera, Zeb, Kanan . . . you."

Sabine felt her heart ache. "What did you talk about?" she asked, softly.

"Just how things were going. What I experienced that day, good or bad." He paused.

"How much I missed everyone back at home," he finished. "Silly, really. But it helped."

Sabine reached over and gripped his hand. "You were missed, Ezra. You were missed so badly."

He blinked at her, tears welling up. "Really?"

"Of course," she said, firmly. Sabine could feel her own eyes begin to glaze over with unshed tears. "The whole crew split apart after you disappeared. We couldn't keep it together without you and Kanan."

His face turned sad. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," she replied, quickly. "Don't even think of blaming yourself, do you hear me? It was just how it happened. We didn't hate each other or anything . . . it was just the war with the Empire and all of us had separate paths to take."

She tried to blink away the tears, remembering the aftermath of Ezra's disappearance; how quietly the Ghost crew, her family, had just . . . drifted apart.

Sabine wiped her face and looked up at the bleak sky of Peridea. "We held funerals for everyone who died during the battle, you know," she said, quietly.

"Kanan?"

Her throat became thick with emotion. "Yes."

She couldn't look at him, as she added, "And you."

Ezra was quiet for a long few moments, before saying, jokingly, "Hope mine wasn't too boring."

"I wouldn't know," Sabine replied. "I didn't go."

"Oh," was all Ezra said.

"They all believed you were dead," said Sabine. "I never believed it. I didn't want to believe it . . ."

Ezra interrupted her talk with a hug. Sabine froze, in shock, and then melted into him. She felt the strength, the love, the dedication, the surety of his care and affection for her -

All real.

All for her. What she had missed, craved so much in the past decade. It flooded into her, filling a dark hole that she had been ignoring inside of her, and the pain and relief of it made her weep.

And she sobbed into his shoulder. For Ezra, for herself, for all the years they had been apart and the damage that had been done.

"Why did you leave, you stupid idiot? Why did you leave me all alone? To fight all alone? We were supposed to finish this war together! Live and see Mandalore and Lothal revive during peace, together!"

She pounded a fist into Ezra's shoulder with each question, the tears and hurt and anger just pouring out of her, uncontrolled.

Ezra didn't say anything. He just accepted her fury, her despair, and responded the only way he knew how.

He just held her tighter. Keeping her from flying apart; keeping her whole.

When she finished, Ezra just continued talking about inconsequential things, like nothing happened.

Sabine loved him so much for that. For just accepting her and letting her be what she needed to be at that moment.

She took a moment to wipe away the snot and tears.

The dreaded voice, like a gremlin, spoke from the dark corner of her mind once more: he doesn't know what you did.

Maybe so, she retorted back at the voice. But I still have him for now.

She prayed to the Force - or whatever power ruled in this unfamiliar galaxy.

Please, just let me keep him for a while longer. Just a little while longer.

(Author's Note: I cried like a bitch writing this part.)

Someone Special

Sabine Wren x Ezra Bridger

(An extended epilogue to the Ahsoka finale 1x08, The Jedi, The Witch, and The Warlord. Sabine returns to the Noti camp after the 'Shadows in the Starlight' scene to find Huyang waiting for her with a surprise.)

"Lady Wren," called Huyang as she approached. "I have something here that might interest you."

Sabine frowned at the droid. "What is it?"

He held out a metallic box, crudely put together. Sabine peered at it closely: it looked like someone had done a rush job with welded together Imperial salvage. And all of it was built to -

Sabine's eyes widened. "It's a holo-recording."

Huyang nodded. "Indeed. I believe Master Bridger left a message for you."

Another recording. Sabine's heart raced at the thought.

Ahsoka, her master, caught up to her. "A message?" asked the older Jedi.

Sabine took the recording from Huyang's outstretched hand. "From Ezra. Do you mind if I take a listen?"

Ahsoka nodded. "Go ahead. I'll take first watch."

Huyang led the way inside one of the domes, where they could be alone. "The recording is in bad shape. If you don't mind, I'll observe to make sure it doesn't explode on you."

Sabine snorted. "Thanks, Huyang. Whatever would I do without you?"

"Explode, probably," replied Huyang, dryly.

Gingerly, Sabine set the recording down on a crate and cranked the power on. The machine sputtered and sparked - and then the lenses flared to a shimmering image.

Sabine gasped.

"Oh, dear," Huyang observed, sadly.

It was Ezra, alright. His hair wasn't quite as long; the beard not as scruffy. Younger than the current Ezra now.

But he looked hurt. A bandage, hastily applied, was wrapped around his mid-section; a dark stain was staining it, visible despite the thick gauze. His left arm was in a crude sling, made from some unknown cloth.

But it was his eyes. His eyes were the worst part. Haunted, bruised with a sadness and wariness that she didn't know he was capable of.

Ezra was hurting. Someone had hurt him.

Sabine's heart cracked at the image, but she forced herself to stay still. Her hands clenched into tight fists. "Thrawn," she hissed.

Ezra was peering at something and muttering; the audio didn't catch it until he took a few steps closer: " . . . think it's finally working. Yes!"

Despite his battered appearance, Ezra smiled and waved awkwardly with his one good hand. "Hey, Sabine. I mean - I'm assuming it's you watching this."

He took a deep breath and seemed to gather his courage for a moment, before speaking again.

"If you're watching this, Sabine, I'm probably dead."

Sabine's stomach dropped out of her. She could feel Huyang watching her, waiting.

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way," Ezra continued. He gestured at his injuries. "As you can see, today was a bit rough."

"It's been . . . I think three years since I came here? Wherever here is. Thought Thrawn had given up on finding me. I got sloppy."

He chuckled. "My mistake, obviously."

"I managed to scrape together enough salvage from the Chimaera; the purrgils took big chomps out of it when we came out of hyperspace. Took a while to get this holo-recorder built without the proper tools but I managed it. And today got me thinking that I should probably prepare a farewell."

"I don't know how it will happen. Most likely Thrawn. Or it could be something else. But I think it's coming. Don't know when or where. And I don't want you to come all this way without . . . without knowing."

Ezra reached up and rubbed the back of his head. She had to remind herself that Ezra was safe, he was heading back home.

He wasn't dead. He wasn't dead.

"In my last message, I told you I was counting on you. I don't know when you'll find this; I've given the Noti instructions to give this recording to anyone with the starbird symbol. They know what it looks like since I've been painting on all of them since I got here. I hope you like it. Not as good as yours, but I had to make do."

"If you're here now, then that means my faith in you wasn't misplaced. I hope the Empire was beaten and that Lothal was saved. You're probably home with your family in Mandalore now."

Sabine's stomach twisted; her parents, her brother. Her home. Ezra never knew.

Ezra's faced turned sad. "Please don't beat yourself up for getting here late. I don't regret a single thing - a single moment of my life. Any of it. I would do it all over again, given the chance."

With uncanny accuracy, the holographic Ezra seemed to look directly at Sabine.

"I'm doing this message now to say that I want you to lay down your burdens, Sabine. Live your life now. Be happy. Maybe . . . maybe find someone special to have in your life. You deserve it."

He paused and then said, emphatically, "Someone special like you were to me."

Her heart skipped several beats, a blush threatening to come.

Ezra turned away for a second, composing himself - and then laughed. "I think I said last time that you were like a sister to me."

Sabine snorted. As did Huyang, surprisingly.

Sheepishly, Ezra said, "You probably figured out that was a lie." Taking a deep breath he continued, "It wasn't the right word - but none of them seem to be right, when it comes to you. I just didn't want to burden you with . . . with how I felt before leaving."

He gestured in a frustrated manner. "And now I'm leaving again. But this time I don't want to leave with regrets."

Turning to look at her again, Ezra Bridger said, softly, "I love you, Sabine Wren. Always have. Always will."

"While we were on Mandalore a while back, I asked your brother for some Mandalorian phrases - and, well, here we go."

He raised his one good arm and pounded it to his chest in a formal Mandalore salute. Sabine choked back a laugh at the sight.

"My Lady Wren. It pains me that I cannot continue to stay by your side and see your song be sung. I hope that whoever you choose as your partner will do so, in my stead, and see that day when all of Mandalore acknowledge your courage, your passion, your honor, and your prowess as a true Mandalorian warrior."

Ezra's eyes were shining with tears.

"I hope, my Lady Wren, that you know that I will always cherish the time we had together, fighting side by side. That there was no other person who was your equal. And - " He stopped short, fully crying now.

Sabine was crying, too.

" - And I hope you know that I will always be grateful for the verses in your song that I could share. And that, one day, if you are ever on Lothal and the sun is shining and you feel a breeze and hear the tall fields of grass rustle, you will think of that as my song, to compliment yours."

Ezra was absolutely butchering the Mandalorian phrases, but it mattered little to Sabine. She cried at the sincerity, the love he was giving her; a final, parting gift.

He smiled, lop-sidedly, as he finally finished. Sabine felt a smile tug at her cheeks, too, despite the message's tone.

"Wow, that was easier than I thought," mused Ezra. "Should have done that much sooner."

He peered at the something - the holo-recorder, in his point of view. A beeping noise could be heard. "Ah, karrabast. I think the power's draining. Need to make this quick."

Huyang tsked. "Goodness, the language. Where did he learn that word from?"

Sabine chuckled weakly at the thought of Huyang meeting Zeb one day. His circuits would explode.

Ezra smiled and said, quietly, "Live and be happy, Sabine. I'll always be with you. I really do hope you find someone special in your life to share in all the laughter and joys and sorrows."

"I hope they know how lucky they are." He grinned and added, "I'm sure you'll be reminding them plenty."

The hologram began to fizzle. Quietly, Huyang said, "The power reserves are almost out."

Ezra raised a hand in good-bye, a sad, but loving smile playing on his face. "Good-bye, Specter-5. This is Specter-6, signing off."

The recording sputtered and died, leaving Sabine and Huyang in the dark.

After a moment, Huyang said, "I'll leave you be for the night, Lady Wren."

The droid walked out.

Sabine picked up the holo-recording gently and cradled it to her chest, feeling the tears track silently, warmly down her cheeks.

Someone special in your life.

"Yeah, I did find someone special," she choked out through the sobs. "And I'll be reminding him plenty when I get back.”

#sabezra #sabine wren #ezra bridger #ezrabine #sabezra fanfiction #sabezra fanfic #star wars #star wars rebels #star wars fanfiction #ahsoka show #natasha liu bordizzo #ahsoka #I blame the hat man #he made me do this #DO YOUR JOB FILONI

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mandaloriandragontrainer · 11 months

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#I have been possessed by callum #he made me do this #the dragon prince #rayla #mando’s polls

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juiche · 4 months

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a moment of peace before the whole world shatters 😇

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beebfreeb · 12 days

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#funny talking tag #My favorite thing to do is HC characters as trans but also that they've never heard that term before and act accordingly.#My other favorite thing to do is make characters repressed.#My other other favorite thing to do is make a character go ''I feel like a(n) object/animal/thing pretending to be a man/woman''#''but I don't really care about that right now I have a job''#Anyway while this post can be about whichever characters you feel fit I made this with a certain character in mind.#(Dimentio of SPM fame) (He has something really specific going on that makes me cackle) (You can ask me about it)

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lovelenivy · 6 months

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mouse bites™

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attleboy · 6 days

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TADC SPOILERS AHEAD!! //

don't forget

#episode made me sad... many thoughts... gummigoo you will always be famous #tadc spoilers #the amazing digital circus spoilers #the amazing digital circus #tadc #pomni #do i tag as gummigoo.... well... he's there in spirit??#gummigoo #my art

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redsray · 3 months

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the funniest part of any Robin meeting the JL is that every Robin is so distinctly different from the previous one in terms of personality and vibes that the league literally gets backlash. and like, I don't blame them. not to mention that they are non-meta children that dress as a traffic light and fight crime alongside batman in gotham on a nightly basis. i'd also be a bit concerned. Batman, literally The Night of Gotham personified in the League's eyes, coming into a JL meeting: This is Robin, my crime-fighting partner. 11-year-old Dick Grayson, dressed in the brightest primary colours possible, vaguely hidden murder behind those eyes, never stops moving even for a moment: Hi! Superman: That's a child. That's-- Bats that is a child. You let a child--? Batman, deadpan: You try to stop him. Would you rather he try and murder a grown man with a wire?

Batman: This is Robin. 12-year-old Jason Todd, with the biggest grin on his face, about 3 books in his hand, stars in his eyes and a distinct street-kid drawl: Hey!!! Green Lantern: That's ... that's a different child. What?? Jason: I stole his tires :) Batman: Tried to. Jason, stage whispering to the League: basically did. Green Lantern: that is a different kid, right?? I'm not seeing shit??

Batman: This is Robin. 14-year-old Tim Drake, bo staff clutched in his hand, a wary and tired expression on his face, more on the quiet side, the literal walking definition of don't judge a book by it's cover: hello Flash: Where do you even find these-- Tim: I found myself.

Batman: This is Robin. 17-year-old Stephanie Brown, literally blonde, with a shit-eating grin, eyes full of nothing but mischief and the most explosive personality you've ever seen: hiya!! Superman: I give up. Stephanie: I know, I have that amazing effect on people.

Batman: This is Robin. 13-year-old Damian Wayne, a literal wet cat that will hiss at you, has a sword, the most judgemental stare you'll get from a teenager, ready to jump anyone there: Green Lantern: WHY DOES HE HAVE A SWORD?! Batman: ... he came with the sword.

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mumblesplash · 4 months

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i know it’s like years old at this point but i love that one collab mumbo and grian did with tommyinnit bc it’s like the single most concentrated example i’ve seen of mumbo’s Chaos Nullification Powers

you get to see a bit of it on hermitcraft, mostly via his interactions with grian, but until seeing that collab it didn’t really hit me just how completely mumbo can no-sell other people’s attempts to control a situation. tommyinnit is possibly the single shoutiest, most chaotic minecraft youtuber out there, and in most videos i’ve seen he pretty much overwhelms everyone else and sets the tone for interactions because of this. but mumbo just. doesn’t let him. no matter how much tommy escalates in intensity, mumbo reacts with *exactly* the same energy he always does. grian largely comes across in the whole video as annoyed and reluctant to engage with the whole thing, but mumbo’s not even affected. he just rolls with anything he finds funny and basically ignores anything he disapproves of, only seeming more and more unflappable the harder anyone tries to get a rise out of him.

AND imo, this is the key to my favorite interpretation of him as a character

see, when the people around him are being more reasonable/calm, i think mumbo often comes across as anxious and a bit easily overwhelmed. the thing is, his nervous wet cat vibes do not scale. he has one setting. his responses to the last life ‘ah-ha!’ jokes and to hermitcraft 8 starting to crumble to pieces under a falling moon are almost identical.

mumbo jumbo is inexorably and eternally Just Some Guy, but that gets stranger and stranger the weirder his surroundings become. the giggly incredulousness that makes him an easy target for goofy puns looks Very different when it’s also his reaction to the impending end of the world.

#anyway yeah i have this whole idea in my head about mumbo’s friendship with grian from a characterization standpoint #bc i agree with the somewhat? common consensus that being friends with mumbo has made grian softer and friendlier over time #but i don’t think it was in a ‘reflecting back the kindness he’s being shown’ way #i think it’s because the more harsh and chaotic you try to be towards mumbo the more you feel ineffectual and out of control #and grian can’t handle it so he slowly becomes nicer until he feels like they’re on equal footing again #like don’t get me wrong i think they genuinely are good friends #and i don’t think this is necessarily something mumbo is doing on purpose #but i think the power dynamic going on under the surface is much more bizarre and weighted in mumbo’s favor than it seems at first glance #mumbling

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idiotsonlyevent · 1 month

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i wonder where the idea of chilchuck being a deadbeat came from when theres like. no textual evidence for it ?

he knows what all of them are up to; he still writes to flertom and she sent him his neckwarmer, so that to me implies that they at least have a somewhat positive relationship?

its more ambiguous with meijack and puckpatti, but since meijack is also a picklock, i wouldn't be surprised if he taught her himself, considering how trades are often passed down through families, and because he talks about sending people to her if he dies.

also the way he talks about puckpatti is very like... it's obvious he wants her to take things more seriously, but he's accepting, and his tone here reads more fond to me than anything else.

like, he keeps his daughters' old toys under his desk? that doesn't scream 'deadbeat' at all, it screams 'empty nester' who doesn't know how to reach out or is scared to do so

EDIT: i know a lot of the 'deadbeat dad' stuff is jokes, but some people are Not joking and genuinely think chilchuck is a bad dad. this post is not saying that you cant joke about it; it is just outlining what canon shows regarding his (clearly positive) relationship with his kids.

#i love making fun of him but he is like. Very Explicitly Not a Deadbeat Dad lol #WHY DID I WRITE SO MUCH AGAINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN #CHILCHUCK I AHTE EYOUUUUUIUUU #WHY DOES HE DO THIS TO ME....#EDIT: 'i thought the deadbeat dad stuff was a joke do ppl actually think that?' YES thats why i made this post 😭😭 bc ive seen ppl genuinely #say that hes a bad dad/husband!#L.txt #dungeon meshi #chilposting #long post

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egophiliac · 28 days

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IT WAS ERIC AFTER ALL!!!! I'm so glad we got to meet him (before Vil snaps him away with those Infinity Gauntlets) (can't wait to see what happens when we get the matching Infinity Tiara to go with them, there will be no survivors)

(sorry to be so slow/rough lately, just got a lot of stuff on the ol' brain at the moment! alas, if only I could spend all my time drawing incredibly stupid characters I mean I do but)

#art #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland spoilers #tapis rouge #i know these are not my best but by god i needed to draw ~daddo venue~#he is a treat! can't wait for him to yell at us for screwing up a shoot or whatever the last-minute disaster will be #i am SO HAPPY it turned out to be about movies after all! ...i mean sort of anyway #i'll take what i can get (and i do enjoy twst trying to be all cute about snow whAHEM i mean beautiful queen) (i see you there twst)#(also to be fair it actually wasn't poisoned in historial-revisionism-twstland so i think we can trust this apple. a+ acting eric)#anyway we are still. very solidly in the 'stand around and talk about the wallpaper for three hours' part of the event.#but HEY we got to meet eric! i was not really expecting it to be him so i am VERY pleased #also god help me i did think the shopping montage as portrayed by a rhythmic where they literally SKIP down the street was hilarious #there's a lot of Choices that were made in this event and that was a good one

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anna-scribbles · 3 months

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adrien tell ur mom to leave me alone !

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harbingerofsoup · 10 months

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there’s death of the author and then there’s whatever the fuck is up with danny phantom

#danny phantom #death of the author #most of the lore is fan made #a decent chunk of the fandom hasn’t even seen the show #one of the most beloved side characters isn’t an actual character #because we made him up based on a like 2 second clip #he’s not even the only widely accepted fan made character #because we spawned more from him #and we ba sing se-ed ourselves about phantom planet #dannypocalypse is also a thing #it doesn’t have anything to do with death of the author #but it’s important to me that we’ve pulled off a successful fandom apocalypse #every year since i think 2017

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inkskinned · 1 year

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there are a lot of posts out there that are positive and healthy coping mechanisms for handling the holidays. this is not one of them :)

i think there's like. going to be times in your life you will be stuck in a social situation that you cannot escape from gracefully. i do not know why the internet doesn't believe these times exist. it's not always just that your physical safety is at risk - sometimes it's legit like "i just don't currently have the energy or time to put in the effort of responding to this." sometimes it's a coworker you hate so much. sometimes it's just like, fine, you know? like you know you can handle your aunt when she's cheerily horrible, but if you actually set a boundary around her, it's going to be weeks of fallout with your father.

i don't know why people think the answer is always just "cut them out!" or "don't let them get away with that!" because ... the real world is tricky and complicated. i think kind of a lot of us have an internal "radiation poisoning" meter for certain people. like - i'm talking about the ones who are absolutely giving you gradual ick damage. like, you can handle them, but you'll be exhausted.

and yes. you absolutely should listen to your therapist and the good posts about handling others and set good boundaries and take care of yourself. prioritize peace.

HOWEVER :) ...... since im often in a situation with a Gradual Sense of Ick person i cannot just "cut out" of my life (without losing someone else precious to me) - i have sort of developed the most. maladaptive form of mischief possible. because like, if i'm going to have to listen to this shit again, i like to have a little bit of private fun with it.

now! again, i am physically safe, just mentally drained by this man. you should only do this with people you are not in danger with. which leads me to my suggestions for when your Unfortunate Acquaintance shows up and says oh everyone pay attention to me.

my favorite word is "maybe!" said as brightly and happily as possible. whenever the Horrible Person starts in on a topic you do not want to go further with, particularly if they make a claim that you know to be inaccurate, do not respond to it. you and i have both tried to actually argue with this person, and it hasn't gone well, because this person just wants the drama of an argument. however, "maybe!" gives them literally nothing to go on. it is incredibly disarming. they are used to people having some response. they know they can't prove what they're saying, and maybe! treats them like the child they are. it dismisses them in the politest way possible.

i like to say maybe! and then, in their stunned silence, immediately change the subject. this is because i have adhd and i will have something unrelated to talk about, but if you can't think of topics fast enough, i recommend just pointing to something and saying, "isn't that lovely?" because fuck you let's bring in some positivity.

by the way. that second trick - of pointing to something and stating an opinion about it? - that just works on its own, like, 70% of the time. i picked it up from teaching preschoolers. it's an intentional "redirect". it stops children crying and it also stops grown adults from finishing their explanation on why women belong in kitchens. dual wielding!

keep it silly for yourself. i absolutely do not care if people think i'm fucking stupid (it's more fun if they do) and as a result i will purposefully misunderstand things just to see how long it takes them to realize i've completely removed them from the subject at hand. when they say "women aren't funny" i get to be like. "which women." "all women." "all women in america?" "no in the world." "like the mole people? the people in the world?" "what? no. like, alive." "oh are we not counting the mole people?" "what the fuck are you talking about." "you don't believe in the mole people?"

similarly, i play a personal game called "one up me." my Evil Acquaintance literally knows this game exists (my family & friends caught onto it and now also play it) and it always fucking gets him. i don't know why. you have to be willing to be a little free-spirited on this one, though. the trick is that when they make one of those horrible little bigoted or annoying comments they are always making, you need to go one unit weirder. not more intense, mind you - just more weird. "you don't look good in that dress." "yeah, actually, my other dress was covered in squid ink due to a mishap at the soup store." "you shouldn't wear such revealing clothes." "wait, what? oh shit. sorry, your son tears off strips when no one is looking and eats them. i swear it was longer before we left the building."

the point of "one up me" is to completely upend this person's narrative. we both know this person likes setting up situations where you cannot "win" and then they really like telling other people how badly you handled it. in a usual situation, if you respond "please don't say something that rude", you're a bitch. but if you let it happen, you're letting yourself be debased. they are not usually expecting door number three: unflappably odd. because what are they going to say when they're telling everyone how badly you behaved? "she said my son eats her dresses" ".... okay?"

if you can, form an allyship with someone whomst you can tagteam with. where they can pick up on your weird "soup store" story and run with it.

the following phrase is amazing and can be deployed for any situation: "oh, be nice :) it's the holidays!" i do not know why this works as often as it does. i'll say it for the most random shit. i think this is bc most of the time these people know they're being impolite, they just like to fight.

godbless. when in doubt, remember that you could always start stealing their pens.

the whole point of this is - if you can't escape. maybe see how long you can just be. like. a horrible little menace.

#this is objectively bad advice #don't listen to it protect yourself and do real work on yourself find one of the good posts i've made about this #but also. u know. if u want to have fun while u do the work of setting boundaries #.... it IS fun #i will say that my fear of him went SO down after i just started. fucking with him.#bc i used to get SO fucking upset #i'd spend WEEKS arguing with him. tearing my hair out. sick with anxiety and dread and anger about all of it #and now i just LITERALLY do not engage #instead i'm like '' haha :) mole people" and get the HELL out of any tense conversation #i kind of think some of these people are literally addicted to drama as a form of connection #they like the rush they get from arguing #but those arguments are incredibly damaging for me #so like..... i am in the process of literally rehabilitating this person to figure out how to find connection thru #NORMAL CONVERSATION #he doesn't get it yet #i also do talk to them like they're preschool kids lmafo . ''are you using a safe and kind voice right now?''#'' do you need a snackie? you sound a little upset. let's have some hummus and come back to playtime when we feel ready''

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riaki · 5 months

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ur highschool bully gojo was chefs kiss 💋 what do u think about them going to the same college and taking the same classes?? and the reader sitting next/talking to some other guy and satoru gets jealous?? arwahhhshdhshshs so many possibilities, i hope u continue writing it!!

hi nonnie !! thank you so much :) this is ur official part 2 ! i was struggling to think up some possibilities but this helped a lot :oo | read part 1 here ! -> cw: swearing, jealousy, i let it get fic length oops

(former) highschoolbully!gojo on the brain again… like. when you end up seeing him again however many months later, and you can tell that he’s changed. it’s not like its immediately obvious to anyone who doesn’t really know him like you (used to); but he’s a little softer-spoken and his smiles seem nine times more genuine. it’s not a hundred percent; the kind that really lights up his face instead of just barely falling short of his stark blue eyes, but it's something.

of course, you have nothing to base it off of, because when you do inevitably see him again it's the very definition of meet ugly.

college is a new frontier, but its also a clean slate. its your first time going into something so new without your old bestfriend at your side, but some faint flickering thought reminds you that it might be better that way. but the universe is against you from the very first day, when youre gettin yourself some coffee from the same chain you did the morning of that fateful presentation so many moons ago. you're too busy thinking to yourself what kind of strange parting ritual it is to relive your trauma to notice the lanky, white-haired boy who hits his head on the chiming bell over the doorway. people are giggling around you n sighing dreamily but youre too deep in the music pumping through your headphones to notice and your eyes are glued to the class schedule on your phone, trying to ensure you dont get lost on the first day when—

you blink and your ass is flat on the dirty floor of the coffee shop, and the first thing you register is that your stomach is soaked and burning. you'd spilled your coffee. it takes you a moment to realize, but when you do you're pissed. so you quickly get to your feet, trying to reign in what little of your ego you have left to give the offender who bumped into you a piece of your mind as you look up, then..

how unlucky do you have to be?

just like that, satoru's slid himself back into your life, after ramming through its locked gates. you forget that he always forgets the point of keys, both when it comes to his apartment (which you still have the spare key of in case of emergencies), and the door to your heart. to rub salt in the wound, the only thing that's stained with your coffee order are his shoes, which look like they cost three weeks of your old job salary, but it's all over your shirt. of course it is. because why not? make it look like you tripped and fell into a patch of mud on your way to the lecture hall and tack on an unwelcome reunion with your ex-bestfriend.

to you, it's like the cloud of gloom from your highschool youth has resettled over your head like a swarm of gnats on a dreary, hot summer day. the stars always seem to skew and misalign themselves for you. but for satoru, the stars have handed him one of those huge swirly lollipops that you only ever see being paraded about by toddlers. he recovers almost instantly, trading the burn on his feet and the way it sours your expression like he's just squirted pure citric acid into your throat for a pleasant burn of his own on his cheeks. but it's whatever. girls seem to like it when he blushes, for some reason. he won't question it, if it works on the only one he cares about.

he holds his hand out, ready to help you out like the good samaritan he's become— and it's like a real burn to his heart this time when you ignore it and stand up on your own, refusing to look up and meet his pleading gaze. might as well have taken an iron stoker right out of the fire and jabbed him with it. but he's gojo satoru! he won't be defeated by this one mere, maybe very significant reunion. he's got stamina.

so he offers to buy you a new drink, feels his heart sink when you shake your head (can't even spare a little 'no' in his direction), and talks enough for the both of you when you leave the dingy little store make your way down to campus and the lecture building. you clearly don't want to see him, but he ignores that in exchange to notice the way you shiver every so often. the previously searing-hot coffee that stains your shirt turns cold fast, and moisture n wind don't mix well. he wishes he could offer you some of his own warm coffee, no doubt sickeningly sweet, but he has some sensitivity now, apparently. so, in a brash moment, he decides to take his blazer off and drape it over your shoulders instead.

when you cross the threshold between city and campus, you expect him to yank it off your back and be on his merry way. but he keeps walking next to you, so you walk a little faster, and you absolutely loathe the cheeky little grin that curves the corners of his lips up to show a glint of teeth when he effortlessly keeps up. you curse his long legs when you find yourself winded, but at least you can lose him when you get there.

or, that's what you think. once again, your constellations break themselves to rebuild anew for satoru. you're about to call him a stalker when he follows you all the way to your classroom with that smirk that's growing exponentially until— oh, no.

your phone that's been on the schedule up until now desperately scrolls to the roster— and there it is. he's in your class. needless to say, not another word goes between you as you stomp in and take a seat. luckily for you, you've already corresponded with your roommate's brother (who's annoyingly cute, satoru notices) and agreed to sit next to each other. satoru takes the seat right above you and never stops kicking his freakishly long legs against the wood the entire time.

so yeah, it's obvious he's not a saint; he still has that undoable ego and he's cocky as fuck (as you have the misfortune of finding out when he quickly bullies your professor), but there's a certain familiarity in that no matter how ugly it might appear to others. and if you asked (which he really, really hopes you will someday), he doesn't hang around douchebags who use kids' foreheads for ashtrays and treat girls like they're candy from a glittery pez dispenser. and at least he's switched harassment targets. even though he has an overwhelming sense of superiority over others and never has his lips together for more than five seconds, and even though he has this hellish habit of clicking his pen whenever he's not talking (or when someone else is), it seems like he's changed.

and over time, you gradually find yourself warming up to him. the spunkiness that used to get on your nerves ceaselessly becomes an object of endearment, and you don't really mind the way he never seems to stop moving anymore. it's a nice sort of distraction in the lifeless still of the lecture hall, albeit the pen clicking still drives you near insanity. you notice he always does it obnoxiously and quickly when you're talking to your roommate's brother, but you ignore it.

and for satoru? he hates that he can kinda sorta really tell that you're the only one who can read him like he's a damn book, cus you slowly start to soften up in the nostalgia of his presence like cold playdough between warm fingers that tell you he may have finally caught you again after letting you slip the first time. and he notices it. this time, he's determined not to let you be the one that got away again. but youre really giving him a shit time outta it with the way you constantly entertain the guy who always has his breath in your face.

yeah, he's got a cute face that's sunkissed by freckles. yeah, his hair looks like he models for shampoo companies. and fuck, he has a nice voice. but what of it? satoru's the one with the mesmerizing blue irises and the cloudy white hair your professor wishes he had instead of sad little wisps of old age. still, as chilly days turn into frigid weeks, he gets the perfect backseat angle of the growing relationship between the two of you. the boy's kinda dumb so you copy off of satoru’s work when you need to (he has to hide the 1-0 scoreboard between him and the guy on a sticky note from you when you take his notes), but said guy’s always buying you stuff and lending you erasers and laughing when you flick the shavings at the annoying girl who never stops whispering in the front of the room.

satoru tries to act unbothered, and he almost convinces everyone. including himself. but the angry, burning knot in his chest that's entirely different from coffee stains suggests something more. that should be him at your side. him, making balls of paper with rude scribbles and silly doodles to throw at the people he knows you don't like. him, surprising you with little gifts and the cheap trinkets he knows you adore so much instead of all the luxury things he could afford. there's no way this punk could possibly measure up to him, right? but at least you and satoru are well on your way to becoming friends again. not as close as you used to be, but it's something. substantial. and he's learned to be patient in the time you've been gone.

but he'd be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn't tired of it. he’s endlessly plagued with thoughts of increasing intensity— first, it starts out with just you. only you. the way he likes it. the way he likes your face, and your pretty eyes and your gorgeous lips and your soft hair and your figure and the complimenting clothes you wear. but it takes a turn; thoughts turn into dreams that turn into fantasies and he's lying when he says he doesn't enjoy them when he accidentally lets it slip during a group study session— and it’s all fine— but then, that guy appears. the brat who seems to sit a centimeter closer to you with each coming day. not only does he haunt satoru in real life, he’s tormenting his dreams, too. tainting the image of beautiful you.

needless to say, satoru starts to wake up with his hands gripping his damp pillow like he's choking it, acutely aware of the sweat sliding down his neck and over his chest as he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the dorm's air conditioner run and thinking of what it'd be like for dreams (the ones where he replaces the boy) to become reality.

it's a buildup. and soon, he reaches the apex; it's like a rollercoaster, that stomach-twisting moment when you reach the top of the rail that points to the steep descent downward. but this time, he hopes it's a thrill he gets instead of the usual falling fright; the one he got when he realized he’d slipped between your fingers in highschool.

and satoru finally comes to a grinding halt at the top of the ride one breezy fall day when he decides he wants you back in his life after you smile brightly at him and wave goodbye for the day. he’s tired of you having one foot in and one foot out of his heart; he wants, needs more. he always has, he realizes.

so he’s thinking about you and how to approach the feelings he’s realized during those long lectures, and one morning he comes up with some semblance of a plan when he’s high on the sugar from the fruit tea you bought him that morning. and he hopes that, by the end of it, he'll leave your apartment with your hand in his currently empty one, chilled with the remnants of cold condensation from the bottle.

soon enough, satoru finds himself extinguishing his nerves and raising a tense fist to knock on the door with nothing but the clothes on his back and a flimsy plan to ask you out on a midterm study sesh and maybe even a date, but he stops when he realizes it’s slightly ajar. a brief thought of what look might be on your face when he surprises you crosses his mind, so he lets himself in quietly, because he knows every single floorboard that creaks like the back of his palm from his childhood. he’s hit with a wave of warmth and an achingly familiar scent that twists at his heart, and your apartment is cozy and safe and it screams you and he thinks he catches sight of his jacket slung across the back of the couch in your living room, but he’s not sure so he takes a step forward and—

he’s greeted with the sight of that stupid guy with the nice hair and the freckles, and it makes his heart drop. but even worse, he’s kissing you and his arms are winding around your waist but you’re kissing him back with a slight hesitation that’s blinded to satoru by his shock and the fingers he thought would end up in his own tonight card through the boy’s hair and your lips glisten with the strawberry-kiwi flavored gloss he watched the boy give you a few days back and his world is turning red and he feels like his throat is constricting and he can’t breathe—

and he doesn’t even realize you’ve parted lips and you’re calling his name through the newfound tightness of his chest and the painful ringing in his ears thats even louder than any silence of a lecture hall, or the void that should’ve been filled with your voice during the time you were apart. but now satoru realizes he’d take that any fucking chance to have that again because it’s so much better than what he’s stuck with now. having you, but not really having you, because you’re there but you’re someone else’s and you’re not his and he isn’t yours. the best thing he could ever hope for was for you to own an article of his clothing and a piece of his shattered heart, broken into a million fragments. some cruel voice in his buzzing head reminds him to change the scoreboard to 0-100.

and he could buy you cheap hot coffee or earn your smiles from scrunched up paper balls or even hear your laugh with crude jokes, but there’s no point when he realizes he can’t buy you with caffeine or earn you with hitting the back of people’s heads with his bio notes or have you and your laugh all to himself anymore.

it’s almost pathetic, the way satoru’s voice cracks and changes. the look of unadulterated concern on the face of the boy who stole your lips just adds fuel to the fire.

“gojo? what are you doing here— hey, are you okay? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

he noticed you’d stopped calling him satoru a few weeks back. he should’ve seen it coming.

“huh? oh, yeah. i’m good. i think you’re the one hallucinating.”

he’d never told a bigger lie in his life.

satoru had left after excusing himself for intruding. how very unlike him to be so polite, you think.

so in the end, he leaves your apartment with something in his hand, after all. but it's not your own— just his blazer that you’d given back to him before he stepped out the door, taunting him with the faint scent of coffee and lingering perfume. his hope was foolish, so it seems. it’s too bad, he thinks. if it were him, he would’ve sandwiched you against your counter while he kissed. but it wasn’t. apparently, it was your turn for your stars to align at the price of his.

and so, gojo satoru, the boy force-turned man with a chipped ego and a completely broken heart, loses you again.

bonus bonus.. part 2….

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