IT HAS RECENTLY COME TO MY ATTENTION THAT INTERSPECIES RELATIONS ARE RAPIDLY DEVOLVING INTO SLOPPY MAKEOUTS THAT THREATEN TO BECOME DISGUSTINGLY MORE INTIMATE. IN AN EFFORT TO KEEP YOU IDIOTS FROM FREAKING THE FUCK OUT OVER WEIRD XENOBIOLOGY AND EMBARRASSING EVERYONE IN THE WORST WAYS POSSIBLE, I HAVE COMPILED THIS GUIDE, WHICH SHOULD BE SHORT ENOUGH THAT EVEN THOSE OF YOU WITH THE ATTENTION SPANS OF SMALL INSECTS SHOULD BE ABLE TO READ IT ALL IN ONE SITTING.

In which Dave realizes that the situation is stupid in the most ironically enjoyable way.

"They just watch," John says, kicking the mop bucket into the broom closet after a hard day's asteroid-cleaning. "I guess chores are like a spectator sport for trolls? It's pretty weird! But... that's trolls for you!"

Everyone is born with the ability to only see the colour of their soulmate's eyes. Only upon touching their soulmate, can people see the rest of the world's colours. Edward Elric will do whatever it takes to get his brother's body back and ensure he can have his happily ever after with his soulmate, even if it means never finding his own soulmate.

“Are those even practical?” Iruka hisses, unable to tear his eyes away from his mission partner.

Agen digs his fingers into the silver-veined bark, smiling a little. Pushes upright, flicking his hair back behind his shoulder, and pulls his outer robe off, draping it over a branch. “A trooper in distress,” he says, stepping forward. “I believe Jedi are supposed to rectify such things.” Two pairs of dark eyes snap to him, and Fives's widen with glee. He wriggles harder under Echo's pinning weight, like a landed fish, and cries, “General Kolar, help! I'm being overrun!”

In the first months of the war, A'Sharad finds a whole tribe of his people viciously slaughtered, with only one survivor. What begins as an investigation to find the culprit and a mission from the Council to support Tatooine's petition to enter the Republic rapidly turns into something else entirely, though, and A'Sharad, his padawan, and their tiny clone squad find themselves caught up in mysteries that can be traced all the way back to the start of the Republic.

The hydrophones have been picking up nonsense for the past three days and Zhenya has had it up to here, honestly.

Jango Fett makes a comeback as Mand’alor during the Mandalorian Civil Wars by reviving an archaic tradition – rescuing an enemy in battle in order to wed them into one’s clan. Such was often, in the past, how the ending of feuds began. So he rescues Lady Satine Kryze and her Jedi Protector, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi. As for marrying them into his clan – well. Clan Fett is a Clan of exactly one, at the moment. He’s thought this through. Really. Not getting more than he bargained for with two catty and lovesick teenaged revolutionaries at all. It’s fine. Things are fine. He is completely in control. (Is he, though?)

Mando’ade were personally offended by their existence on all fronts, and it didn’t matter what faction. Kyr’tsad hated Jango, the Haat Mando’ade hated what the clones meant for them, and the New Mandalorians hated war and all its pieces. The last thing Fox needed was another shipment of empty, bloody plastoid delivered to the bricks. There really was no telling which one sent the package. A whole squad. Gone. Fox hoped they were dead. Anything else was too painful to think about. Or; Fox finds a huge cache of beskar. The potential ramifications of this do not escape him. And then a new faction of Mandalorians arrives on Coruscant. Fox decides he's too tired to deal with this shit anymore.