#poor pierce

[papayeexplosive-blog]

Getting rejected.

[kariachi]

Random Amalgam-focused drabble.

In keeping with the stereotypical family get-together, dinner was turning out to be an ongoing disaster. Kevin and Alan were sniping at each other over their attempts to make dinner- which may well have not even been a joint effort, nobody knew, they’d both thrown fireballs at the last person to enter the kitchen. Of course that had been Many, who’d gotten himself banned earlier for being a nuisance. Currently he was in the dining room ‘helping’ Helen set the table, which mostly consisted of arguing with her about the importance of silverware placement and what glasses to use. Meanwhile, nobody even knew where Argit and Cooper here, which could either have been a good thing or a harbinger of the apocalypse. And Pierce… Pierce was curled up on the couch, hiding behind a book on off-the-grid living.

“I really should’ve just stayed dead…”

[riajade01]

Fuffy promt: "That shirt or other item of clothing that the other ‘borrowed’ and never gave back and it became theirs" for SW/Quinn :3

Yay more fluff! I did this one a little differently… figured it would be fun to watch Mara and Quinn be stupid cute through the eyes of a very annoyed Pierce. I hope it worked… I’m not sure?

“Good morning, Lieutenant.”

The words were spoken through tightly-clenched teeth. Pierce didn’t bother to suppress a sigh, didn’t bother to stand as Quinn walked into the room, and rolled his eyes.

“Captain,” he growled back.

It was Pierce’s second full day on Lord Thrask’s crew. The Sith Lord herself seemed okay, flexible to a point and more concerned with results than pomp and regulation. The twi’lek girl, Vette, had proved on base she was the perfect drinking buddy. The human apprentice was harder to read, but she was polite and stayed out of Pierce’s way.

And then there was Captain Tightarse Quinn. Who did not stay out of his way. And who glared at him now, haughty blue eyes staring down that pale fucking nose like Pierce was something distasteful he’d gotten on his boot. Pierce glared right back, daring the shorter man to call him on his breach of protocol. From across the room, Vette snorted.

“If you’re going to have a pissing contest, can you not do it where we eat?”

Quinn shot an annoyed glare at Vette, but said nothing as he turned away and busied himself making a pot of caf. Pierce found himself glaring at the twi’lek, too - as if this were his fault, and not the natural reaction to someone as uptight as his new commanding officer.

Quinn had clearly come straight from the ship’s surprisingly well-equipped training room. He was flushed and wore sweat-stained PT clothes, which to Pierce felt very like seeing the man naked.

“I didn’t realize you needed to work out to push flimsy, sir,” Pierce ventured, smiling as Quinn stiffened.

Quinn didn’t bother to turn around.

“Lieutenant, your report regarding the assault on General Frellka’s compound will be due this afternoon. Do not make me take your insubordination to Lord Thrask.” He looked over his shoulder then. “You would not enjoy it.” There was no mistaking the cold pleasure in that last sentence.

Pierce opened his mouth to reply, but cut off when he read the letters printed down the leg of Quinn’s PT pants.

Korriban.

Pierce doubled over with laughter before he could stop himself. It was part humor, part creeping horror as it hit him that Quinn hadn’t slept in the crew quarters either night Pierce had spent on the ship. And he’d devoted part of his first day here suggesting vehemently to Lord Thrask she get rid of the man.

“You’re literally wearing Lord Thrask’s pants,” he wheezed, focusing on the hilarity. “Holy shit, Cap’n, that leash must be-”

“Is something funny, Lieutenant?”

Pierce stood hurriedly as Lord Thrask walked into the galley. Her hair was loose and sleep rumpled, a pair of soft shorts hugging her hips and displaying her muscular thighs in full. Pierce let his eyes roam over her - he was in service to the woman, not blind - and froze when they settled on her chest.

It was not her curves that distracted him but the seal of the Imperial Army printed on the shirt she wore, and the fact that it hung loosely on her. Well, fuck.

“No, m’lord. Nothing at all,” he ground out when he found his voice again.

“I thought as much,” she replied, her yellow eyes narrowed.

She flashed a smile at Vette and Jaesa at the other end of the table and turned to accept a cup of caf from Quinn. Her face softened considerably when their eyes met, killing any remaining hope Pierce had that she was simply exercising ownership over her bootlicking captain.

Fucking perfect. On board for less than two days and already managed to piss off the boss.

There was no accounting for taste, he supposed, even among Sith Lords, though it explained why she kept the unctuous asshole around.

Quinn picked up a ration bar and was carrying it and his caf out of the galley.

“Leave some hot water for me, Captain,” Lord Thrask called after him, her voice playful.

Quinn turned smartly back toward her. The cold arrogance in his face had melted and he appeared to be fighting back a smile.

“Of course, my lord,” Quinn replied with a slight bow of his head. He somehow made “my lord” sounded more like an endearment than a title. 

Lord Thrask stared after him as he left the room, a small, entirely unprofessional smile on her face.

Dear gods this is disgusting.

She must have felt something of his emotions, for she turned back to Pierce, her expression an odd mix of amused and annoyed.

“I’ll make you a deal, Lieutenant Pierce. Stop snarling like a butt-hurt rancor over an hour of work and finish the damn report. You do that, and I’ll see what I can do about peeling Captain Quinn off your back. Do we have an accord?”

Pierce stared for a long moment. At least she’s not blind to what a pain in the ass he is.

“Yes, m’lord. You’ll have it by this afternoon.”

“Thank you.”

She left the room, caf in hand. She had barely disappeared around the corner when Vette let out an explosion of laughter.

“Good job, Pierce.”

He rolled his eyes at the twi’lek and turned back to his caf.

[mrstevensheadofcatering]

I love everything about this oral history of mm2: "Astonishing decision in the first movie to hire people that couldn’t sing."

‘We Should Hate It, But It Works’

An oral history of the inexplicably star-studded, hallucinogenic ending of Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again.

[seissouls]

nerodawg replied to your post:I wonder when I should start writing about the...

TELL ME ABOUT IT MUFUFUFU

oH MY GOD THAT REMINDS ME

WHEN YOU FIRST STARTED YOUR BLOG, YOU WROTE GRIZ’S VOICE CRACKING A L O T 

IT WAS SO CUTE AND FUNNY I MISS THAT

[dropkicks]

[crisontumblr]

There are jerks, douchebags, and assholes. And then there's Handsome Jack.

[laikasinclair]

Because Pierce will always be a good sport~

~SR2 Pierce's Comments on the Boss' Driving~

Battle Quotes

"Yes! Yeah!"

"Woo! Yeah!"

"Yeah, baby! OW!"

"Anyone who stops you, they deserve what they get."

"You don't fuck around, do you?"

He Tries to Rationalize the Boss' Driving

"They didn't see that coming."

"I think that they wanted to get hit."

"That was their own damn fault."

"People need to keep outta the way."

"You showed that one who's boss."

"We got the right of way, bitch!"

But He's Starting to Have Second Thoughts

"Tagged that one."

"They slashed their tires."

"Umm..."

"Think maybe we should slow down?"

"You wanna keep it on the road, boss?"

"Having fun?"

"Gonna be one of those trips, huh?"

"You called me up so we could do this?"

"Why you gotta be like that?"