The Force speaks in mysterious ways. A young Leia Organa listens. Unfortunately, she doesn't quite know what she's hearing. This changes things.

“Are you sure about this?” Jon asks a little warily.

“He hasn’t noticed yet, has he?” the little Chalactan girl asks cheerfully, pulling herself up to sit on the table. Myles, currently face-down on the wood and despairing of every moment he’s spent devoting his life and honor to an idiot, groans loudly.

“I cannot believe you,” Jaster says, muffled where his face is buried in his hands. “One week of leave and this—this—this is how you come back?” Myles weighs whether he should be ashamed of himself, considers that last time Jaster got himself kidnapped because he pissed off a culty group of guardians around an ancient shrine, and promptly decides he regrets nothing. “I was only the Sith Emperor for three days before true love’s kiss broke the spell, it was fine.”

“Clan Wren sends its regards,” Ursa says, bowing, and by all rights Jaster should be paying attention to the Countess’s daughter, should pay his own respects to the heir to Krownest, but— He only has eyes for Ursa's brother, steady at her side.

A high, sustained, familiar scream rises above the treetops, and Rex pauses. He looks over at Cody, finds Cody already looking back, and does his absolute best not to grin.

“Well this is awkward,” Quinlan says, raising a hand to stop his nipple tassels from swinging.

“Barriss?” Ahsoka hisses, bewildered. Barriss, in a fancier dress than Ahsoka has ever seen her in, covered in tattoos and dripping jewelry, freezes stock-still on the stairs into the casino, and Ahsoka feels the bright-sharp flare of her panic a half-second before she spins to face Ahsoka.

Jango's eyes flicker up, down, up again, and it’s meant to be dismissive, but Shaak knows wariness when she sees it, and it makes her smile just a little. “Lady, I just tried to put a slug through that fancy headdress of yours.” With a chuckle, Shaak takes a step closer. “Fett, I've been a Jedi for decades. If I held a grudge against everyone who had tried to kill me, I would have more enemies than you.”

This was supposed to be a vacation.

“Oh,” Jaster manages, and it cracks right in half.

“I can’t believe you ruined my boots,” Leia says, outraged, and pushes Dooku’s face further into the mud.

"If you say I told you so, I'm going to feed you to a sarlacc," Jango growls, stalking right past Jaster and into the keep, trailing slime.

Sidney is late making his Soulgift. Anonymous asked: Soulbond AU for Sid and G please?

Sid knows, okay. He’s known since he was 13 what he was and wasn’t going to be able to have. Anonymous asked: lonely, touch-starved sid au

He was dying to know, obviously he was dying to know; obviously he knew something had happened, with the way Geno and Sid kept looking at each other, and holding hands like that, which Sidney had never seen them do. And kissing on the couch, and Sid looking like he was up in the clouds, just totally gone, like his feet were floating at least a kilometer above the earth.

They're three of the biggest names in the sport and, to be quite honest, they're sick of the things the league tacitly condones. There are issues in the league that no one will talk about but maybe--just maybe--by taking a stand they can start to change things.

It’s 10 pm, and Sid is ready to scream.

Kent Parson comes out and it's a bit of a train wreck, but not for the reasons you might think.

She smiles at him, and Pierre-Luc smiles back. She doesn't know it, but he's got a big, ugly bruise on his hip from that incident yesterday. A small monster just a block away, small enough that it shouldn't have been too much trouble dealing with it on his own. Really, he has no excuse for the broken window. This isn't junior training anymore and he should be used to working solo by now. It's not what he prefers, but it's not his place to question how Torts is running his team, only to thank him for his trust in PL's skills and do his best not to prove him wrong.

Wolffe looks like he’s regretting having a second Jedi with them. 

“Hells, 17, I think your lady friend is trying to show us all up—” “Shut your mouth,” Alpha snaps, though it’s a hell of a lot more true than he would like right now.

Bly's new wife is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and she's graceful and charming and funny and so far out of his league that he's about to die.

Jon is not used to wanting anything, much less something he might be allowed to have. 

Kix confronts her oldest sibling about something she's noticed.

Seriously, there WOULD be trans clones. There’s definitely enough variation in the process of how they’re created and raised for there to be some range of gender identity & expression. I wanted to, briefly, tell that story because it makes perfect sense and it totally explains why female stormtroopers would not be an issue. There were women serving in the clone army all along.

She does not like Basic.

There’s a hollow thud, a sound like a gong, a war-cry that makes Alpha-17 freeze in his tracks, and Priest goes flying back into the window.

“I would like to request reassignment to the Coruscant Guard,” Tra says, posture still rigid. Cody blinks. “What?”

The first time she wakes up and doesn’t immediately want the world to go back to sleep with her, Fox is on the other side of the tiny room, bouncing Leia on his knee, with Luke asleep against his shoulder.

the boys are back and they are high and horny

“Is the kid in trouble?” “No, of course not—I was just, uh, wondering, Mr. Djarin, if you could tell me about Grogu’s typical diet—I only have limited experience with his species, and I have reason to be... concerned that he’s not getting the enough nutrients here,” said Master Skywalker carefully, the kid sitting beside him, not looking particularly remorseful. Dank farrik, not again, Din thought.

Cody keeps a list of miraculous things he comes across amidst the mundane.

“I got you something. An early Life Day present of my own.”

Depa takes one step into the council chambers and stops dead, clapping a hand over her mouth.

When it comes to Pudding, Sanji is happy to be in the palm of her hand. (Or not, as is more often the case.)

Fox is tired of Granta disappearing every time they turn their backs, so this time he keeps Granta with him when he goes to his office to do flimsiwork.

Neil and Andrew handle press duty, and Neil is asked about his relationship status.

"It's just basic coping skills," Jason scoffs. "Have none of you ever met someone with ADHD before?"

Every step Sanji took, he wanted to die. Every step he took, gods, he felt alive. It was strange, odd, uncomfortable, glorious, his mate's arm around his shoulders, all burly muscle, tucking Sanji under impressive biceps and up against just-as-impressive obliques. You'd think Zoro was an alpha to look at him on a normal day. Broad, head high as always - could he have walked any other way if he tried? - dripping confidence, exuding well-earned ego. And his lover, Sanji, so much narrower, several inches shorter with their carefully chosen shoes, head a little ducked as he smoked through a slim little black filter. "I think I'm gonna have a fucking heart attack." "Good thing I'm here to give you mouth to mouth, cutie."

[oh my god, they were soulmates?!] Tim’s soulmate likes some very odd things. It started off relatively mundane—Pokemon cards, chips, chocolate bars—but around Tim’s 14th birthday, things started to get weird. Tim started to feel the urge to collect what he could only describe as “paranormal investigator bullshit.”

Talia meant for Jason to realize that Tim had no business being Robin, that he needed to be removed from the position. Jason watched the videos over and over.

Quinlan can’t take it anymore, and if he sticks around for one more minute, he’s going to have a reaction that’s entirely inappropriate given the discussion that’s happening above his head.

“Repeat that,” Tim says slowly. Kon gives him a defensive look. “I panicked, okay?” he repeats. “And ‘panicking’ meant you decided to kidnap . . . how many kids, exactly?”

“That,” Quinlan says, faintly frazzled, “is not how the Force works.”

“Those are some thick gloves you're wearing,” Quinlan observes, light. “And here I thought the weather was actually behaving today.”

“You're not very good at this, are you,” Fox says flatly. It has only passing resemblance to a question.

Things are better in the valley.