@ct-1944â liked this
âHow the hell did you land that?â
âWell..â âVery carefully, sir.â
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@ct-1944
@ct-1944â liked this
âHow the hell did you land that?â
âWell..â âVery carefully, sir.â

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BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN (2005) SENTENCE MEME. feel free to change details and pronouns as you see fit. some nsfw and triggering material.
beats working for my old man.
canât please my old man, no way.
your folks run you off?
well, we got to do something about this food situation.
i wouldnât mind sleeping out there.
that ainât the point.
i warn you, i canât cook worth a damn.
you canât be no worse than me, then.
thatâs more word than youâve spoke in the last two weeks.
hell, thatâs the most that iâve spoke in a year.
you may be a sinner, but i ainât yet had the opportunity.
youâll freeze your ass off.
just quit your hammering and get in here.
fuck me!
see you for supper.
itâs a one shot thing we got going on here.
itâs nobodyâs business but ours.
i donât need your money.
i canât believe i left my damn shirt up there.
youâre wasting your time here.
itâs not so lonely now, is it?
iâd like to buy ___ here a beer.
so where do you figure the most pussyâs at, las vegas or california?
hey, you might wanna keep it down.
___, just leave them alone. letâs just move.
you wanna lose about half your fucking teeth, huh?
wait, hold on. you donât think iâm too fast, do you?
maybe we should put the brakes on?
fast or slow, i just like the direction youâre going.
you are in a hurry.
iâm supposed to be at home with the car by midnight.
i got a million things to do here before i can leave.
iâd rather be at my job, if i lose my job.
what about my job?
weâll more likely just go out and get drunk.
___ fuckinâ ____!
we might not get back tonight, when we get to drinking and talking and all.
would you get me a pack of smokes?
didnât think iâd hear from you again.
i figured you were sore from that punch.
i got out while i could still walk.
i swear to god, i didnât know we was going to get into this again.
i couldnât get here fast enough.
what are we gonna do now?
well, i doubt thereâs nothing we can do.
iâm stuck with what i got here. and making a living is about all i got time for now.
iâm starving. wanna get something to eat?
iâm enjoying my peace and quiet.
you know it could be like this. just like this. always.
itâd be a sweet life.
weâre around each other and this thing grabs hold of us again in the wrong place, in the wrong time, and weâre dead.
we can get together, once in a while.Â
if you canât fix it, ___, you got to stand it.
iâm sure as hell sorry. you know i am.
iâll see you next month then.
we donât eat with our eyes.
now you sit down, you old son of a bitch.
now you sit down before i knock your ignorant ass into next week.
that donât mean nothing, ___.
donât try and fool me no more, ___. i know what that means.
shut up, listen to me, you donât know nothing about it!
get out. get out! you hear me, ___? get out!
hey asshole! watch where youâre going!
thatâs some high class entertainment, if you ask me.
you and ___, itâs normal and all?
you remember getting the feeling when youâre in town, and someone looks at you suspicious, like he knows?
maybe you ought to get out of there, you know?
go to hell, ___.
you want to live your miserable fucking life? then go right ahead.
i was just thinking out loud.
yeah, youâre a real thinker there.
he got it all figured out, ainât he.
wanna dance?
my feet hurt.
iâm trying to get a foot rub, dummy.
thank you for asking to dance with me. i really appreciate that.
he wouldnât listen to me even if he knew he was going deaf tomorrow.
you donât think iâm the one for him?
youâre good enough.
you donât say much, but you get your point across.
sorry. i didnât mean to be rude.
youâre standing on your feet, cowboy.
i was thinking, maybe i could come stay with you.
you probably deserve it.
the truth is, sometimes i miss you so much i can hardly stand it.
thereâs something iâve been meaning to tell you, bud.
you know, you had a fucking week to say some little word about this.
why is weâre always in the frigginâ cold?
you know me. about all the travelling iâve ever done is around a coffee pot looking for the handle.
there ainât never enough time. never enough.
this is a goddamn bitch of an unsatisfactory situation.
you forget what itâs like being broke all the time.
you got a better idea?
i did once.
is that a fucking problem?
we could have had a good life together. a fucking real good life.
but you didnât want it, ___.
everythingâs built on that. thatâs all we got.
so i hope you know that, if you donât never know the rest.
you tell me youâll kill me for needing something that i donât hardly never get!
you have no idea how bad it gets!
i canât make it on a couple of high-altitude fucks, once or twice a year.
you are too much for me, ___.
i wish i knew how to quit you.
why donât you? why donât you just let me be, huh?
itâs because of you, ___, that iâm like this.
iâm nothing. and iâm nowhere.
get the fuck off of me.
itâs all right.
youâre sleeping on your feet like a horse.
i donât get you, ___.
i was probably no fun anyways, was i?
he drank a lot.
we was good friends.
want a cup of coffee, donât you? piece of cherry cake?
iâll have a cup of coffee.
i feel awful bad about ___.
i canât begin to tell you how bad i feel.
like the car?
___, you need more furniture.
if you got nothing, you donât need nothing.
weâre getting married.
//
lightedforceâ:
She hummed softly, an acknowledgement of his assessment even as she gathered up the scant amount of medical supplies available for treating the soldiers. âIâve learned to take the optimistic reports with a grain of salt.â
Turning back to him, Eryn set down the sealed bacta-bandage before taking a seat on the crate next to his to examine the injury. âI am surprised to see people coming in with injuries like this one, though â most Separatist forces canât be bothered with anything more than a simple blaster rifle.â
He leans his carbine up on the side of the crate as he rolls his shoulder a bit, exposing the mostly-clotted slash that troubles him so. Itâs by no means worryingly deep, nowhere near the bone and well out of the way of any major arteries. He grunts as she leans in, fingers squeezing the edge of his thigh plate as she works.
ââs not all bad. Only got this because we cornered âem in a village about five kilometers west of here. The walker couldnât move up- collateral damage, according to the Captain- so we had to clear âem out of the kriffing hard way. It turns out even if they donât know how tâuse it, theyâll pick it up and swing it at you. 394 got hit in the head with a vase the other day.â He says, pulling a cigarra from the pack with his teeth as he leans his helmet up.
lightedforceâ:
Vibroblade injuries were always nasty business. Eryn motioned toward a crate, intending to have the sergeant sit down. âOnly if youâre inclined to sit for a little bit.â
@ct-1944 from !
â...sure.â He wants to be up, giving orders, but he can hardly feel his arm for all the throbbing pain. The clone of Fett sits, beginning to work off his armor piece by piece so she can get at the slash.Â
âSeps are tenacious here, Commander. Watch yourself.â He says, eyes squinting under his visor as he watched two airborne rummage through a supply crate for missiles for the squadâs launcher.

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â thatâs quite a scratch you got there.â
âCan you fix it?â Heâs nonchalant about it, the vibroblade leaving a deep gash down his shoulder until it was stopped by his breastplate.
*: シďžâ§  red dead redemption 2 ( part 2 )
feel free to change pronouns, etc!
â howâd you get on?â
â thatâs the last thing we need right now.â
â well, it is what it is.â
â i need some rest.â
â i havenât slept in three days.â
â how you doing?â
â i need you to⌠iâm sorry, iâm sorry to ask, butâŚâ
â at least go take a look.â
â i know if the situation were reversed and⌠heâd look for me.â
â he wouldnât leave. not like that.â
â hey, i see some smoke⌠come on, letâs take a look.â
â we need to stay together.â
â what are you doing?â
â you were there⌠what really happened?â
â it was crazy. raining bullets.â
â that ainât like him though.â
â iâm surprised we escaped at all.â
â damn snowâs coming in hard again.â
â the horses are struggling.â
â i donât know about this, w-we canât follow nothing.â
â letâs push on a little bit.â
â hey, look. over there, you see that?â
â i donât think we can go much further on the horses.â
â weâll have to walk from here.â
â iâd grab that shotgun of yours. who knows whatâs up ahead.â
â you sure about this?â
â over here! help!â
â watch your step, this is real slippery.â
â damn, itâs cold.â
â iâm miserable. been a tough few days.â
â here, take a drink of this.â
â iâm not designed for this snow.â
â __, where are you? __, can you hear me?â
â thatâs quite a scratch you got there.â
â never thought iâd say this, but⌠itâs good to see you.â
â you donât look so good.â
â i donât feel too good, neither.â
â donât die just yet, cowboy.â
â well, we canât go back the way we came. letâs try this way.â
â ainât you a sorry sight?â
â iâll distract them while you get to the horses.â
â go, iâll draw âem off you.â
â i donât feel too good.â
â youâll be fine. itâs just like a⌠a dog bite.â
â i knew a feller, got bit by a dog. died an hour later.â
â you ainât gonna die. not yet.â
â thanks for coming for me.â
â you know, weâre gonna need to come up with a better story for that scar.â
â so, freezing, bleeding, starving, damn near getting eaten to death ainât good enough for you?â
â youâre alive! oh, youâre alive!â
â this is a new low, even by your standards.â
â you sound doubtful.â
â i trust your judgment. always have.â
â what about you. you doubting me, too?â
â thank you, for your strength. it means a lot to me.â
â when you fall, thereâll be a party.â
â you fools punching each other, when __ needing punching, hard.â
â folks been through a lot recently, we hardly back on our feet yet.â
â i know you hate him.â
â no, youâre just doubting me.â
â i would never doubt you, __, you⌠you always said revenge is a luxury we canât afford.â
â this is about more than revenge for business long ago.â
â and you think now is the right time to hit a train?â
â now you might fancy living on deer piss and rabbit shit, iâm getting too __for that life.â
isootoâ:
   Madness didnât even begin to describe it. The chaos, the bodies and metal flying in every direction. As often as she was deployed, nothing could really prepare a person for what happened on the battlefield. There was no time to be cautious once blaster shots rang out. There was no time for anything but your reactions.Â
   She gives a shout at the wrist rocketâs impact, flinging one arm up in front of her face in an effort to shield her eyes from the debris. The bright blue of her lightsabre flashes at the edges of her vision while she sprints to the side of the fallen trooper. Itâs useless, she knows heâs beyond what the field medics can do, but she holds his hand tight in hers and murmurs words she hopes are comforting while she feels his presence dim in the Force.Â
   âIs it always this bad?â Shaak shouts over the sound, offering a silent prayer as she stands at the Sergeantâs side, âYou know this fight better than myself, where am I needed?âÂ
She stands there, observing as the clones fight and die. Typical, honestly. Maybe its programmed into him, the rebelliousness, but heâs a bit bothered. Sheâs a VIP, like all the Jedi, someone to be protected at the cost of men. The trooper sighs as he grips his pistol, pulling the DC-15A free from the still-writhing trooper in front of him, shouldering it to check the sights as he holsters his sidearm.
He turns about, laying the barrel between two sandbags. He begins to fire, laying down fire more than he worries about careful marksmanship. He looks up at her when she speaks, continuing to tap the trigger.
âUh, yes, General. This is how it is for us.â He says. He turns away to look, the shrapnel-filled rookie now done moving, almost certainly passed on. âHow do you think Cody and Kenobi get on without being hit with Seppie artillery and flak so regularly?â He turns back, ejecting the steaming charge pack into the mud as he pulls a new one from his bandoleer, chambering it.
He looks to her downed LAAT/i, watching as it smokes gently. He looks back to her, and shrugs. âStay here. Or take your chances, find the Lieutenant.â Heâs speaking without much of the regularly due respect, but considering the circumstance at this crossroad heâs not too worried.
âThey donât like it when you shoot at âem. I worked that out myself.â - Ace
âAny other discoveries you want to share?â
luminousxbeingsâ:
âThey never expect a Jedi Inquisition!â Twin blades, golden in hue, came around to deflect the blaster shots that got far too close to 1944 for Aceâs comfort. âDâyou think I could get on top of one and do the thing you do, with your blasters? Only- with lightsabers! Bet that would be neat.â
He resents Ace in a way. The carefree nature of the trooper, pulled out of regular training by the Jedi. The way the Jedi didnât have to take every gunfight that seriously- not really, not to the standard of regular folk. He shoulders his carbine, blue blaster bolts thudding into targets as he fires. He controls his breathing, firing a few rounds in the space between each long inhale. He feels sweat beading on his forehead on his helmet, flicking the fire selector as he stands up to move forward.Â
âMaster, wait.â Anakin turned to face him fully. He couldnât just stand here and let him walk away. Not now. He had to say something âŚ
He had a sinking feeling he might not get another chance.
âMaster âŚ,â he said hesitantly, âI know Iâve ⌠disappointed you in these past few days. I have been arrogant. I have ⌠not been very appreciative of your training, and whatâs worse, of your friendship. I offer no excuse, Master. My frustration with the Council ⌠I know that none of it is your fault, and I apologize. For all of it. Your friendship means everything to me.â
Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, Novelization

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âThis must be what going mad feels like.â
âWelcome to the Two-Ay-Bee, General-â A shell whooshes overhead, thumping into the back wall of the compound. The sergeant pulls a dead clone off an emplaced gun, a smoking hole in the manâs head. He drops him, carelessly, and waves one of the troopers firing a rifle at the droid horde to man it.Â
The other trooper, bearing the double orange stripe, nods and does so. Its there he sits for only a few seconds, firing the heavy blaster cannon into the droids before them. He blows away one of the B2 that stand head-and-shoulders over the smaller B1s, before a wrist rocket comes in. It hits the gun, sending the shiny trooper falling to the floor, filled with shrapnel. He kicks, blood leaking across his white armor as the sergeant looks down to him, peeking up to fire a couple of blue bolts of plasma from his pistol as he tries to judge if the rookie is worth trying to save.
For the last few days I have found it difficult to find active Star Wars blogs to interact with. It seems as though everyone I come across is on hiatus or their blog is archived. So here is this. Reblog this so I and everyone else can know youâre active. I think this would be a great help to the community while weâre in-between content being released. Maybe also when you reblog this, add your timeline for your muse, as well as your character name. Keep in mind this is for STAR WARS BLOGS ONLY.
âThey donât like it when you shoot at âem. I worked that out myself.â - Ace
âAny other discoveries you want to share?â
Firefly - sentence starters
1. âCurse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!âÂ
2. âIâm guessing you werenât burdened with an overabundance of schooling.âÂ
3. âAlso, I can kill you with my brain.âÂ
4. âTime for some thrilling heroics.âÂ
5. âYour mouth is talking. You might want to look into that.âÂ
6. âNo power in the âverse can stop me!âÂ
7. âWe have done the impossible, and that makes us mighty.âÂ
8. âIf your hand touches metal, I swear by my pretty floral bonnet, I will end you.âÂ
9. âIf someone ever tries to kill you, you try to kill them right back!âÂ
10. âMight have been on the losing side. Still not convinced it was the wrong one.âÂ
11. âMy days of not taking you seriously are certainly coming to a middle.âÂ
12. âNext time you want to stab me in the back, have the guts to do it to my face.âÂ
13. âShe/he/it is beginning to damage my calm.âÂ
14. âEverythingâs shiny, _______. Not to fret.âÂ
15. âThis must be what going mad feels like.âÂ
16. âThey donât like it when you shoot at âem. I worked that out myself.âÂ
17. âMy food is problematic.âÂ
18. âNo more running. I aim to misbehave.âÂ
19. âWeâre not gonna die. We canât die, _______. You know why? Because we are so very pretty. We are just too pretty for God to let us die.âÂ
20. âThe important thing is the spices. A man can live on packaged food from here to Judgement Day if heâs got enough rosemary.âÂ
21. âI think you have a problem with your brain being missing.âÂ
22. âShake your head, ______. Your eyes are stuck.â Â
23. âMy workâs illegal, but at least itâs honest.âÂ
24. âIâm trying to put this as delicately as I can. How do I know you wonât kill me in my sleep?âÂ
25. âYou donât know me, ______, so let me explain this to you once: If I ever kill you, youâll be awake, youâll be facing me, and youâll be armed.âÂ
26. âIâm a leaf on the wind. Watch how I soar.âÂ
27. âI do believe that ______âs planning to shoot me again.âÂ
28. âYou paid money for this, _______? On purpose?âÂ
29. âSo. Would you like to lecture me on the wickedness of my ways?âÂ
29. âI brought you some supper, but if youâd prefer a lecture, I have a few very catchy ones prepped. Sin and hellfire⌠one has lepers.â
30. âWhy is there a statue of you in the middle of this town square?â  Â
31. âPoint of interest? Offering to shoot us, donât work so well as an incentive as you might imagine.âÂ
32. âIf I wanted schooling, Iâdâve gone to school.âÂ
33. âMaybe Iâll give him/her a tattoo while s/heâs out.âÂ
34. âI am a large, semi-muscular wo/man. I can take it.âÂ
35. âWhatâd yaâll order a dead guy for?âÂ
36. âAll right. You want to explain to me why you got yourself all corpsified and mailed to me?â Â
hiddenjediâ:
Battle droids are stupid. The one thing that can be counted on in this civil war â the Separatists were too cheap to spring for units that understand tactics. Not as an infantry unit, at least. No doubt there were tactician units, but they were kept away from the thickest of the fights, where they could orchestrate from above.
There was no adrenaline in watching the war from a lofty tower. No blood rush of finding the patterns and driving a blade into the weak points.
It would be so much simpler to stay with the men, but staying with the lines of the soldiers means the droids will be able to regroup and come back with a fury. It means casualties will be higher.
Unacceptable.
So Dani pushes forward, taking up the tip of a spear that will find its way to the heart of this facility.
His DC-15S thumps in his hand, the whine of superheated plasma the loudest thing in the hall, save for that lightsaberâs bassy hum. The sergeant continues firing, even firing into downed battle droids. A quick look at his Heads-Up Display tells him just about everything he feared- high casualities, slow pace of advance.Â
He figured the Jedi would be with them, using those superhuman reaction speeds to help deflect some of the incoming fire. Stupid of him, really. When have they ever really helped him out of a tight spot? So he continues the advance, signaling 3611 to throw a thermal detonator down the left hall. The door is sealed, not on the route kept open by the slicing program. He would make an entrance, then, to avoid the horde of droids, which admittedly the Knight was holding off quite well.
The fwoom of the explosive blows out the bulkhead, as well as a maintainance droid on the other side. He sends 3 men around, and watches as they speed off, heads low. Maybe theyâd make it to the object. He could very well also be sending them to their deaths, carrying the majority of the sections thermal detonators no less. He shrugged the thought off- it was the most efficient play, based on the information he had.Â
Trudging forward, he rejoined the Jedi, pushing the barrel of his weapon around the corner and firing off a few blue bolts as he looked to her for orders.

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luminousxbeingsâ:
@ct-1944
Patience. Peace. That was what his new master had told him to seek out whilst meditating⌠but try as he might, true meditation eluded him, highlighting once again the gap between what he was and what he was allegedly supposed to be. How could Ace have patience when his brothers were out there, right now, dying by the hundreds at the hands of Seppie droids? How could he sit and find peace while his brothers were slaughtered, and he had not yet learned how to keep them safe? How could he be a trooper, much less a Commander, when he hadnât even gone through the full training regimine? How could he be a Jedi, when the extent of his formal training thus far had involved sitting quietly and being told to wait?
Shooting range. As a Jedi Commander, he had access to things a normal clone did not, and that meant the shooting range. It was the middle of the night, far past curfew, but curfew did not apply to Jedi. With a grimace, he slunk from his Jedi-styled quarters (where he slept alone, for the first time in his life), and found himself in the shooting range, borrowed dee-cees in his hands (because Jedi used lightsabers, not blasters, but Ace hadnât yet been taught how to build his own) as he took aim at the targets.
Here in this place was where he felt most at peace. Here, he did not struggle with being a Clone among Jedi, set apart by the face worn by millions of others, treated as a curiosity and an aberration from a norm⌠and here he did not have to struggle with being a Jedi amongst his Clone brothers, treated with wariness and curiosity and detachment he detested. Here, he could be Ace, named for his skill as an ace shot amongst his batchmates. Just Ace, who was torn between two worlds and had no definite place in either.
Heâs not supposed to be here, but no one is going to say anything. Its unlikely any non-paratroopers besides the ARCs might stop him, and heâs not worried about running into them. The sound of blaster fire in the firing range at this time, however, is concerning. The DC-15S feels like itâs a part of him, so when he shoulders it on a cadet he doesnât really think about what heâs done for a couple of seconds.
Oops.Â
He lowers his weapon about as fast as he raised it, orange-striped bucket coming off soon after. He has to let the cadet know theyâre one and a same.
âCadet- what are you doing here this time of night. Its lights out, isnât it?â he says, letting the extremely dimmed lights answer his rhetorical question. He looks at the weapons in the cadetâs hands, and holds out his now empty right hand.Â
âGive me those.â He says- and itâs not a request. The sergeant seems perturbed, a bead of sweat dripping off his freshly-shaved head and across his brow. He seems tense, as well, especially considering the fact that he was in his full armor, the well-worn suit of Phase 1 all beaten and battered from months of fighting.
The medic looks over his injury. "I dunno, brother." Stitch makes an exaggerated gasp. Moderate laceration across the left shoulder. Nothing too severe. " I might have to list you Triage X..."
The sergeant wiggles off his bucket, rolling his shoulder up to take a look. It hurts, but considering how the medic is treating him, it canât be that bad. He can feel his arm, at the very least, even if he canât see the wound all that well. With a grunt, he stands up, a bit of pooled blood dripping onto the floor of the hastily-assembled CCP.
âWell, if you donât mind, this casualty would rather get slotted out there.â He says, reaching down for his helmet.