Chewbacca 👐 SURPRISED

bethagain:

Thanks @thebyrchentwigges! What fun!

I have a notion that Chewie’s not surprised that often, but here’s a time when maybe he was.


Four days ago, Chewbacca finished fixing the damper for the
rear center spin control using a bit of electrical tape and an eating utensil
snipped in half and pounded flat. He reattached the panel and knocked twice on
it for good luck.

When the Falcon was still flying straight the next day, he did
it again as he passed the spot, just in case that was why.

Each day since, when he’s passed the panel on the way to and
from his bunk, he’s quickly and quietly knocked twice.

Three days ago, Chewbacca reattached the navigational
antenna on the top hull. They were out of 6-centimeter screws so he stuck in
some shorter ones, glued the whole thing down with epoxy that maybe wasn’t
quite rated for vacuum, and added a whole lot of hope. The spot was right above
the corridor to the cockpit, and when he passed under it he shot a stern look
at the ceiling: You better hold together up there.

When the nav computer was still working the next day, he
kept looking up each time he entered or left the cockpit, because better safe
than sorry.

Two days ago, he repaired a weld on the cooking unit so it
would make heat again instead of just sparks. The connectors had been fixed so
many times the ends wouldn’t reach anymore, so he stuck an extra bit of wire in
there, welded it to both pieces, and hoped for the best. He laid a hand on the
cooktop in a quick, quiet blessing.

When Han didn’t die in an explosion the first time he tried
to heat up a meal-pack, Chewie thought: better do that again, for luck.

Chewbacca has a lot of little rituals like that. Small
things, probably silly, but it seems like when he remembers to do them his
repairs hold together, even if he fixed the thing with spit and fur because
they couldn’t afford to do it right. Or because they forgot to stock up on
six-sided washers, or because Han threw that one specialized wrench at the
bounty hunter they were running from, and they left both wrench and bounty
hunter in the dust.

He doesn’t do these things if he knows Han’s around. Han
would tease him. Even though Chewbacca is fully (and secretly) aware that Han
whispers sweet nothings to the ship when he thinks his first mate can’t hear.

But then, after a quick stop on Syvon to pick up food and
drop off a certain piece of unofficial cargo, suddenly Chewie’s down with the
Syvonian Flu, and although humans usually only sneeze a bit, it hits Wookiees
hard. He’s stuck in the medbunk for five solid days, dizzy if he tries to stand
up, hallucinating little furry creatures that appear to be dancing on the
ceiling while singing raunchy songs.

Han brings him broth and flatbread.

When Chewie finally staggers to his feet, the lights are
dimmed in the medbay and the ship’s engines are humming quiet and smooth.
Nothing’s pinging. Nothing’s knocking. No alarms are blaring.

Chewie hasn’t knocked on a panel or reminded the nav antenna
to stay on the ship in five whole days. He never took his rituals all that
seriously, but still. Don’t tell Han, but Chewie’s amazed the ship hasn’t
fallen apart.

He makes his way down the corridor toward his own bunk,
still unsteady on his feet. As he rounds the corner, he sees Han heading that
way too, just passing the panel over the spin control damper. Han lifts a hand,
and… knocks twice.

Chewie’s short, surprised laugh isn’t that loud but the ship
is so quiet. Han turns, sees him, smiles.

“Held the ship together for you,” he says, “but I’m not sure
I got them all. She’ll be glad you’re back to do it right.”

primarybufferpanel:

bethagain:

finnloren:

So, a week or so ago I made a post about wanting to learn about Finn’s parentage. Naturally, as with seemingly most posts about Finn that get more than a hundred notes a couple of comments were posted that derailed my post from its original intent.

Sure, some were worse than others, but even the ones that might have been posted with no ill intent still held a similar message: Finn doesn’t need to learn about his parents.

Let’s just ignore the fact that this fandom has been borderline obsessed with Rey’s parentage for over a year now and at no point have I seen anyone say that she doesn’t need to know who her parents are because “She found family in Finn” or whatever because that bit of hypocrisy is a discussion for another post.

No, what this post is going to be about has more to do with why I want Finn to learn about his parents after I got yet another person pleading the case for why Finn doesn’t need parents on that post. Because it actually goes just a bit deeper for me then just wanting Finn to have blood relatives of his own.

You see…I’m black. African American specifically, and like many people who are a part of the African diaspora I don’t know exactly where my ancestors originally hailed from. I don’t know what their culture was like, what religions they practiced, the languages they spoke etc. And being disconnected from that part of my heritage has always kinda left me with a hurt feeling in my chest.

Now let me be clear for a moment and say that black people aren’t a monolith so this thing that I’m describing is not something every black person has experienced or can relate to. I’m just talking about my experiences.
But anyway back to my point. Finn getting a chance to meet his parent(s) is more than just him getting reconnected with his blood relatives. 

Because if/when Finn meets his parents is the moment he gets to learn about what planet he’s from. What his planet’s culture is like, what language they speak, how they view or practice the Force and a number of other things and experiences that Finn will get a chance to reconnect to.

Finn reconnecting with his planet and his culture after getting ripped away from it when he was young and forced to assimilate into an oppressive and abusive regime would be pretty incredible to see and that’s why Finn meeting his parents is so important to me.

I’m sure your comments on how Finn doesn’t need parents and that Rey and Poe are his family now have good intentions, but they really aren’t needed.

Oh wow. I adore Finn and I’m so happy we’ll be getting more of his story this winter, and yet this never occurred to me.

Very important point.

I love the ‘Finn is actually a long lost prince’ headcanons tbh

deadcatwithaflamethrower:

sanerontheinside:

dameron-cassian:

sinsof-ourfathers:

{{Okay, so residual haunting was a canonical thing in the old Star Wars EU, right? What with the echo of Anakin’s massacre of that Ghorfa tribe still remaining on Tatooine in Tatooine Ghost. Makes me think, what if there’s a similar residual haunting in the ruins of the Jedi temple on Coruscant, repeatedly replaying the massacre that had happened inside during the events of Order 66?}}

@sanerontheinside have this

*meeps* y u do this? 
in fact: why does everyone insist on throwing the supernatural and paranormal at me all at once? not to mention, I just wrote fluff last night, and now you want me to angst at ppl again? siiiiigh… oh, have at it. 
@obaewankenope, @deadcatwithaflamethrower, @lilyrose225writes, @meabhair, @maawi, @eclipsemidnight, @kyberpunk


A cold touch, like two fingers, across the nape of your neck. An echo of scream at the far end of a dim hallway. A flash of lights like a blaster shot, no discernible cause for it. 

In general, though, the cold almost-cramping in your gut was only normal around the Emperor. The way his eyes bored into you, like fire on your skin wherever he happened to be looking, cold sweat all over – it stood to reason that the halls would also feel airless, choked with smoke and the scent of burnt metal. Just your fears whispering in your ear. That’s what all the residents of the Imperial Palace told themselves. 

And of course, there were those like Tarkin or Isard who were only too happy to ignore it, and softly deride anyone who shuddered at an imagined sensation. 

But for Mara Jade, it was impossible to ignore. Some nights, Mara couldn’t sleep at all, hearing the sounds of blasterfire and screaming, and something that sounded oddly like the Emperor’s lightsaber – but many of them at once. 

On other nights, the Imperial Palace was deathly still, and that frightened Mara more than the screaming she could almost ignore. It made her restless, and no matter how she tried, she could not sleep. 

Mara Jade slipped from her bed, not making a sound, sliding the blaster from under her pillow. If nothing else, a walk out in the free air might clear her mind. 


There was a boy at the end of the landing pad – just sitting there, feet casually hanging over the side. Mara Jade grinned in appreciation: that was something she always wanted to do herself. It didn’t make sense to live in fear of heights in a city over six hundred levels high. It did, however, make sense to get to know them, much like walking around in the utter stillness in the dark was supposed to help her fear it less. Though, so far, she wouldn’t have said it was working. Now that she’d seen the boy out doing the same, however, Mara did feel a bit lighter. 

Still, she didn’t necessarily want company, nor immediately trust this being. 

“What are you doing out here?” she asked as she warily stepped closer, fingers closed over her small blaster. 

The truly disarming thing about that boy was that wide grin he cast over his shoulder. “I don’t know,” he said brightly. 

Mara tensed immediately, sensing – no, not a lie. Under that grin, the boy was rather troubled that he did not know. She wasn’t sure whether her surprise showed on her face, but something must have, the way that grin melted away. That was disappointing. She’d been trying so hard to school her expressions so as not to give anything away. 

But the boy had turned back to the city’s lights, and he sighed. “It seemed so important, you know, to get to the end of the landing pad. Like there was someone at the end of it to help me.” 

Mara weighed her options – to take out her blaster, or to keep it out of sight, even if within reach. She decided on the latter. Perhaps there wouldn’t be much harm in coming a little closer, bit by bit. She watched him as she approached, but he didn’t move a muscle, so she didn’t stop until she was just out of arm’s reach. “Help you do what?” 

The boy shrugged. “Leave this place, I think.”

Mara didn’t quite manage to choke back a scoff. “Why would you want to leave home?”

But the look she got for it was equally troubled, and even more lost. “I don’t know,” the boy admitted. “Honestly I can’t think of a single reason.”

“Betrayal.” 

The word dropped from her mouth, and Mara started, certain she must look just as surprised as the boy, whose head had snapped around to her. It felt oddly right, and she didn’t understand where it had come from. Mara shivered, hugging herself in an uncharacteristic display of nerves. She wasn’t supposed to show anything, she wasn’t supposed to allow anyone to read her reactions – 

“Hey, it’s okay,” the boy soothed, his smile genuine for the first time. “It’s okay. That happens sometimes. The Force speaks to some people that way, it’s like prescience.” 

“I don’t – I’m not –” Mara stuttered helplessly. She wasn’t Force Sensitive, she’ wasn’t prescient, she was just – she could hear the Emperor in her head, and that was all that there was special about her. 

“Doesn’t have to be prescience,” he shrugged again, and sighed. “Anyway, I know you’re right. I just don’t remember anything about it. Not really.” He hung his head, looking pensive. 

Then, “I think there was someone at the end of the platform, someone who wanted to help.”

Mara Jade shook her head, wondering at this trusting being. In the middle of the Imperial Palace, no less! Didn’t he know how everyone here fought for the Emperor’s notice, and ‘allies’ were ready to turn at a moment’s notice just to get a step ahead? She’d seen it often enough. 

“No one ever helps,” she said, with a firm nod. 

For some reason, the boy let out a harsh, bitter laugh, then hung his head, hands clutching white-knuckled at the edge of the landing pad. “That’s true, I guess. If the people you always thought were there to protect you and watch your back suddenly turned against you, I don’t think there would be enough people left to help.” 

That sent a chill down her spine – worse, already, than the wind at this height of the city. People you always thought were there to protect you and watch your back. She thought of the Emperor, of her exhaustive training that would prepare her to one day serve as his Hand, and how she only ever felt warm in his presence. No, she would not ever betray him. 

“Mara Jade,” a soft voice called to her. She looked up sharply at the boy, but he only smiled. “Go back to sleep, little one.” 

Her feet had moved without any conscious thought of her own, and she only really noticed that she’d left the landing platform when she was mere steps away from her room again. But the quiet no longer seemed quite so oppressive, and sleep dragged at her, inexorable. She all but collapsed back into her bed, eyes already closed, and yet the small blaster still made its way under her pillow in a loose clasp. 


– in memory of the one young Padawan who almost broke through the ranks of Torrent Company, fighting to get to Bail Organa. 
also, holy shit – did not fucking expect to hit the creep vibe at the end there 

brb screaming

rookbodhi:

(真他妈的好 = fucking good)

If you were stranded on a desert island with one castmate, who would it be?
I think maybe Jiang Wen. He’s taken to teaching me Mandarin. I kind of go up to him between scenes and between takes and just – “How do you say this? How do you say that?”

Bonus:

deadcatwithaflamethrower:

jhaernyl:

sarahnevra:

forcearama:

legobiwan:

So apparently the Star Wars version of space jazz is called “jizz” and there’s a musical instrument called a “jizz-box” and Threepio auditioned to perform on this instrument at a cantina named (I shit you not) “The Wookie’s Codpiece.”

Thank you, Wookieepedia for…enlightening my day with this information. 

Ahem. Honestly, Star Wars.

My series of reactions here: 
1. This cannot be real 
2. Of course this is real 

My reaction:

1. I am not in the least bit surprised this is real.

@deadcatwithaflamethrower

@the-last-hair-bender

@shadow-spires

@thebisexualmandalorian

@sanerontheinside

@punsbulletsandpointythings

Jizz-wailin’, conceived of in 1975, yo.