[willfcl-blog]

[troopcr-blog]

               —– if your WORLD is all screwed up, REARRANGE it. raise a little hell, raise a little hell, raise a LITTLE HELL. in the END it comes down to your thinking, and there’s really NOBODY to blame. when it feels your ship is SINKING, and you’re to tired to play the game, NOBODY’S GONNA HELP YOU, you’ve just gotta stand up alone. dig in your HEELS and see how it FEELS …

                  to RAISE A LITTLE HELL of your own!

                                      ind. & highly selective original character

[troopcr-blog]

if it were anyone else she’d be insulted, but it’s ares, so she rolls her eyes and starts to unwrap her hands instead.  ❝fooled me.❞ the words drip from her tongue with sarcasm so heavy there’s a strong possibility it may become tangible sooner rather than later.  she paces back and forth as she pulls away the wrap, letting her hands breathe, and her eyes stay on him.  it’s only when she’s finished that she moves towards him, lowering herself onto his lap, this time, rather than next to him.  it’s not an unusual position - not anymore.

❝you wanna help me get to sleep?❞ she asks the question quietly, low and full of implications.  one hand trails across his neck, the other presses to his chest, and she sways slightly as she sits, hips already ghosting a path that could easily be achieved.  she keeps her eyes on him, though, head tilted so that her hair falls aside, revealing neck, and collarbone, and anything he wants to touch.  it’s been a hard day - uhura’s pretty sure she deserves something mind-numbing.

     he SHIFTS under her weight, a part of him trying to avoid doing anything more for the night. hands, out of HABIT, trail up her sides gently before GRASPING her and keeping her still. ❝you SURE you can take it? you’re a little sluggish today. not one minute ago you were whining about the PAIN.❞ half of him is truly concerned, but the other half knows she’ll ask anyway.

     if it helps her to sleep, it’d put his mind at ease ---- is what he’d tell himself. he’s itching for it, an inner desire not so easily QUENCHED. a hunger he’s never been able to appease. he tries to stop his hands from trailing and TEASING, but he can’t.

[rckoon-blog]

BLOGROLL.

ROCKET RACCOON (active / main)

ARES (active / main)

ELLIOT (active / main)

BEN 10 (mostly inactive)

that and about 10 others. if you’re interested in my semi-active/inactive blogs that i’ll return to at some point, shoot me an ask!

[troopcr-blog]

it may be true, regarding his lessons, but she’ll die before she properly admits it.  she pays him back in other ways - in winning fights and hardened muscles and hand wraps.  it’s not that uhura’s never been verbally affectionate - the opposite, in fact.  but with him, it’s more complex.  it’s the nature of their relationship, more than anything else.  ❝don’t hold your breath waiting for that to change.❞

she wants to make fun, to pull the emotion out of the moment and leave this to the side.  but she doesn’t, because he’s trying to convey something here, and she’s not a total asshole.  ❝straight out of a movie.❞ it comes out quiet, and she can’t help the smile that wraps around it.  she also can’t help the little sway she gives into as he prods her.  she’s tired down to her bones, and her hands ache like nothing she’s ever felt.  ❝can i sleep now? is that allowed?❞

          ❝i WON’T. i’m not stupid enough to think you’re capable of that.❞ he makes the joke in her stead, and pulls away. back to the couch, the CUSHIONS that held his tired ass. he worked hard, mentally, and never quite QUIT the gym. it was one thing, however, to say he worked hard, and another to say he worked as hard as uhura. never in his life has he worked with someone as DEDICATED and willing (albeit more STUBBORN and irritating) as she.

          ❝yeah, i’m a regular kesuke miyagi.❞ back to his regular demeanor, breaking the MENTOR vibe completely. he sighs, holding an empty coffee cup --- more depressing than anything else, he’d say. ❝rest is always one’s own reward for hard work. you work hard, you sleep hard. get to it.❞

[willfcl-blog]

[troopcr-blog]

                 i’m a LOVER, not a fighter.                           and i sure as hell LOVE fighting.

                                                  multi-everything oc —— written by MATT.

[troopcr-blog]

         wowie!!! 9 minutes!!!!!!

[troopcr-blog]

kinda wanna watch TFA, kinda wanna watch real steel, kinda wanna watch game o’ thrones. ??? i mean i’m down to stream any of the above on RABB/IT i just need some takers so im not doin’ this shit alone

[toreth]

[troopcr-blog]

this time he seems to evade her even easier than the first, and he’s not fighting back - not really.  it’s without thought that uhura squares up to throw another punch, and she’s got a fire in her chest, in her eyes, that says she’s not backing down, and then - she gets it.  abruptly, all at once, she gets it.  she’s a mess right now.  her punches are slow, her dodges are worse, every time she moves is a new lesson in pain, and truth be told she couldn’t fight a child.  so maybe he’s not punishing her.  maybe this is a lesson.

her arms drop without ceremony, and she stands in place looking at him, the barest of smiles pulling at her lips.  ❝alright, i get it.  you win.❞ she’s a good fighter, she knows she is.  one of the best, even if she’s not being cocky about it.  but these last few days - she’s fucked up, burned herself out.  her hands feel like they’ll never stop being cramped, and she’s gotten a handful of hours of sleep.  point made, she needs to fucking relax.  ❝congratulations, you finally taught me something.❞

     he drops his guard, and steps closer to her, eyes not for a MOMENT missing her gaze. he had faith that this would go differently ---- but he was FULL of just as many doubts as she. what IF it all went wrong? he tried not to think about that. if it does go badly, it’s just another FAILURE in his books. ❝i’ve taught you PLENTY, you’re just ignoring me.❞ he’s not one to express faith, to SHOW how he feels ----- but he’d be damned if he didn’t try.

     he steps ever closer, and brings up one hand ; a finger extends to PROD at her chest. ❝you’re using too much of THIS.❞ the same hand is brought up to prod at her forehead. ❝not enough of THIS. this is about balance, and it SOUNDS like one hell of a cliche ---- but it’s the TRUTH. you won’t get anywhere with too much of ONE GOOD THING.❞

[troopcr-blog]

                 he had thought about the question at hand, the reasons of the attack had been unknown to them and therefor all more to DANGEROUS. an attack without reason would be suicide for both parties. DEATH and DESPAIR  would fall upon them all if they continued on this path. “ there are no winners if they continue this way, neither side shall truly made progress. ” qui-gon looks at the other, hand resting upon the table before them.  “ we must figure out their motives, infiltrate them perhaps ? ”

               he nods ---- the LOSSES would be high, higher than they were already. the only CONCERN of the republic, as it stands, is the safety of its people and the NUMBER of clones left on the field to do their job. ❝----grievous is reckless and relentless, general ... he doesn’t have LIVES to lose. droids are expendable.❞ he leans down on the table, shoulders heavy with thought. ❝to some extent, the clones are as well, but we’re FAR more valuable than some scrap metal. we can’t risk losing our men like grievous can risk losing droids.❞

[troopcr-blog]

he pushes her fist aside as easily as if she were a child, and it shouldn’t wound her as much as it does.  she’s slow, and she’s in pain, and it doesn’t mean that she’s not good - but she certainly feels less than right now.  she doesn’t even move to block properly, protected from his fist only by his voluntary halt.  he’s going easy on her, and if it were any other day she’d be insulted.  but today, for some reason, it seems like a kindness.  she can’t put a pin on why.

❝fuck you.❞ he’s right, she was too slow.  it’s not out of line, but it makes her jaw clench, her fists tighten, and she adjusts her stance, pauses, swings again.  she has to land a hit - just one.  it shouldn’t feel like she has something to prove, but goddamn if it doesn’t anyway. 

           this time, his feet slide backwards, and he shifts his torso similarly ; out of the way of another throw, and he WATCHES as her fist collides with air. his palm drops onto her wrist, GENTLY gripping it with finger curling around the figure. a sigh, mostly in an effort to IRRITATE her further, alongside his exhaustion with this. was his point not yet proven? ❝again.❞ he’d say, setting himself up once more. just once more should get the point across. the last thing he WANTED was to get rough.

[stormqueen]

❤ ultimate fangirl challenge ❤ [2/10 deaths] crixus in spartacus: war of the damned 3.08 separate paths

[troopcr-blog]

just like him to tell her to sit and then force her to stand.  at this point uhura feels she shouldn’t be surprised by anything ares does, yet here they are.  for a moment she stands staring at him, disbelief colouring her features.  they have no gloves, he’s got no hand wraps - any hits they land will leave bruises, will leave worse.  it’s some kind of exercise in pain, it has to be.  still, uhura’s never been one to back down from a challenge.

❝you’re gonna lose mzee.❞ it’s not cocky so much as challenging - because these types of dirty fights never go down without some shit talking.  for a moment they’re static, and she clears her expression, forces herself to be unreadable.  it’s only once everything else is gone, once she’s focused that she moves.  she feints left, strikes right, and waits for her fist to make a solid hit.

     he hardly MOVES ---- stance shifts slightly and he advances a single step, hand lifting only to GRASP a thrown fist. his grip is HARD and unforgiving, and he brings up his other arm with a BALLED FIST. it is brought down HARD against her shoulder ---- only to stop before he makes contact. she’s in enough pain as it is, and he’s only trying to prove a point.

     ❝too slow. again.❞ he snarls, taking a step backwards and resuming his lazy footing. eyes are LOCKED and face void of emotion, save for a grin eagerly tugging on his lips that he FORCES out of his features.

[troopcr-blog]

❝good.❞ it comes out harsh, and she catches the bottle as he tosses it towards her.  even that small action pulls at everything in her, makes her muscles scream, and she bites her lip to keep it from showing on her face.  instead, she twists the cap from the bottle and drains half of it in one.  it’s one thing to not want to admit to thirst, and hunger - it’s another entirely to ignore the solution when it’s put into her hands.  she’s not an idiot.

he’s talking sense, as well, which pisses her off.  there’s no reason, logically, for it to, but that tends to happen around him.  it’s a whole lot of nonsensical reaction to his fairly ordinary actions.  she’s learned to tune out her own intuition in these cases.  her eyes narrow, for a moment, and then she moves forwards, shoves his leg aside and lets herself drop down.  the rest of the water disappears, and she tosses the bottle onto the table, watches as it bounces away, across the floor.  she’ll get that later, probably.  ❝it’s not enough.  nothing is ever enough.❞ she’s so wrapped up in her thoughts, she doesn’t even react to the pet name like she normally does.  she’s got a fight in two and a half days, and she’s never felt more unsure about anything in her life.  ❝what if i lose? what if this time i lose?❞

he GROANS, almost growls, as he stands up ---- downing the LAST of his coffee as if it were from a shot-glass. he offers her a hand, pulling her up with him. she was being STUPID ; a smart girl like her doesn’t have room to be STUPID. ❝you’re unsure and for WHAT? let me give you something to be unsure about.❞ his training gloves rest on the floor, he doesn’t bother putting them on. the fight they have coming up is unprofessional and DIRTY ; such is its reputation.

he squares up, lazily, arms loosely resting in front of his torso. he’s normally SOLID in his stance, but he’s got half a mind to show her how shit of a state she’s in. ❝come here, try to hit me. ANYTHING goes.❞

[troopcr-blog]

she’s inclined to ignore him.  he’s incredibly unhelpful when he wants to be, short sentences and mixed messages making her want to scream rather than listen.  in fact, she means to continue with her movements, and then he keeps speaking.  she stops abruptly, lets the bag swing and catches it, breathing hard, face pressed into the synthetic leather.  ❝maybe i want that.  maybe i want to rip myself into pieces.❞

she’s being dramatic, cynicism dripping from every word.  their conversations usually go this way.  she moves away from the bag again, rolling her shoulders as she shakes out her hands, walking in circles.  ❝it’s like everything in me is knotted up, and i don’t know what to - do about it.  mimi nina kwenda kuvunja.❞ the last part comes out quiet, under her breath, like a prayer.  it rolls off her tongue easily, and she comes to a snap facing him, curling and uncurling her fingers.  ❝so what then? just stop?❞

     it’s his NATURE to take up space --- and so he SPREADS himself over the couch, feet dangling off of the side like a full-time college student after a long day of nothing. he, quite noisily, takes a sip from his coffee, the SCALDING liquid pouring down his throat. BITTER, much like himself, and unsweetened in ANY aspect. after an elongated drink, he nods. ❝you won’t get very far scattered across the floor.❞

     he FEELS for her, empathy washing over his DRY soul. once so full of spirit and DOUBT, dreams and FEARS. throwing punch after PUNCH, trying to beat what he lacked into himself --- only to come up short. he TRIED and he failed, when he was willing to try. bottles of water are placed haphazardly on a coffee table, one of which he picks up and throws at her. ❝tear yourself a new one when you’re HYDRATED and rested. you can get back to it when you AREN’T in pain ---- that means your body’s healed. that PAIN you’re feeling won’t last if you don’t keep adding onto it. take a seat, whaiāipo, sit your arse down and RELAX. if there’s one thing you’ve got, it’s TIME.❞

[troopcr-blog]

i need ----- i really need rogue one to come out so that more star wars blogs get made and HOPEFULLY brings back some uh ... activity to the clone wars side of things

[troopcr-blog]