#jasontoddiefor

Coming out of the woodwork 4 years later to post Ahsoka's POV. Honestly, a lot has happened these past few years, including going through a period of hating my writing, but I missed it and want to get back into my fics, so here's the final installment of Gone with the Rest of Me.

I've had a lot of people over the years ask me for Ahsoka's POV, and boy did she have a lot to say. So while it has been a few years, I'd still like to thank @jasontoddiefor for letting me play in their (now old) MTTT AU sandbox. To anyone still interested, I hope you enjoy:)

Summary:

When Darth Vader dies he has the unfortunate luck to wake up in his twenty year old body, which incidentally consists of an extra arm, two extra legs, a lack of burn scarring, functioning lungs, and hair. For all that he'll probably come to appreciate it later, coming to in a healthy body when you haven't felt a gentle touch in twenty-odd years isn't exactly a pleasant experience. Based in @jasontoddiefor Medical Trauma Time Traveling AU

Snippet:

I think what I like most about the sacrifice wq thing is that WQ and WWX are very very good at pushing debts/favors back and forth. And then suddenly they weren’t both dead and she gives him all she has left, all she is really. How do you come back from that? Someone you knew not just throwing away their position in a sect, but giving up your whole existence - how do you repay that?

Like, in canon WWX doesn’t linger too much on MXY’s sacrifice, but MXY is a poor stranger. It’s different if you speak and always bluffer because you know the person speaking, wondering if they’re talking to you before realizing oh. No. That’s you in your new body.

yes!! and. AND! not only is there nothing more wwx can do to repay her for this (i’m still not over him using her core btw), he’s pretty fucking sure he’s already failed her. he lost all of the wens as far as he knows. wn is the only one left and it is very obvious that saving him will be wwx’s number one priority immediately post resurrection. but everyone else is fucking gone. so what the hell is he supposed to do for her now?!

and the voice thing, the reflection thing…… so voices sound different when you’re hearing them from outside your head vs inside your head. so it would be unlikely that wwx would freak himself out too much with his own voice. but you know who would have a really fucking hard time with it? his one and only companion, friend, perfect cinnamon roll baby brother, and the only reason he’s here at all: wn. and wwx is going to have to watch him flinch over and over again. which, ouch. because what the fuck is he supposed to do with that.

YEAH this one was actually from 2020 and I resurrected it AND posted it a couple days ago.

It's an X-Files fic about Mulder and Scully being internet rivals... told from the perspective of a Fanlore article written 30 years after the fact lol. It plays a bit with html/css, so it looks better on desktop, but it should also be mobile friendly!

It's called "what the fuck Hannah" because I haven't watched the X-Files in about a decade, and the idea simply. Possessed me.

Hard to put a good snippet because the writing is dry on purpose, but it IS a comedy!

Here's the link:

Hello, I’m loosingletters and this is my writing blog!

Main/Personal Blog: @jasontoddiefor

AO3: loosingletters

Ahh, thank you so much!

Designing for the MDZS characters is my favorite kind of challenge, because everybody belongs to a group or a sect that has its own general aesthetic, so I get to design for individuals within a cohesive whole. I try to design based less on what I personally want a character to wear and more on what I think they might actually dress themselves in, filtered through a lens of what sect they belong to and what AU this is.

For example, obviously Nie Huiasang and Nie Mingjue are going to have wildly different approaches to how they get dressed and what they choose to wear, but they're both extremely high-ranking members of the Nie sect, so what similarities are there?

What that means in terms of inspo is that I have pinterest boards dedicated to each of the sects and factions, and then whenever I do a new design, I'll look up inspo for the style in question, take the pieces I like, and adapt it to fit the vibes of the sect and individual.

I also have a couple massive pinterest boards just dedicated to clothes, jewelry, hairstyles, makeup, tattoos -- and on and on and on. I'm constantly adding to these every time I see something cool, and I scroll through and give them a look when I want more inspo.

That Cody's name - and presumably his rank and his jetpack - was inspired by Commando Cody (the Rocket Man), hero of the serial Commando Cody, Sky Marshal of the Universe

(Wookieepedia)

(Wikipedia)

Behold, the Rocket Man:

Anakin feels a jolt of heat — of want, desire, need — shoot down his spine as he comes to a grinding halt.

That...surely that cannot be his children's teacher.

No, no, it can’t be. Surely, he’s just seeing things.

Because, because Obi-wan Kenobi dresses in frumpy sweater vests and baggy slacks. Constantly smiling and speaking softly. Always looking put together and professional.

Not...not like a frat boy in mesh basketball shorts, a sleeveless tank top and a backwards baseball cap.

No. No this is obviously just a man who bares a weirdly striking resemblance to the twins teacher — the teacher he may or may not have been fighting having a crush on all year.

Oh, oh no, Anakin thinks, eyes wide as he watches in almost slow motion as the man who might actually be Obi-wan turns to him — he must have made a noise of some kind to draw his attention — and beams, big and bright.

“Anakin,” he calls happily, dropping the frozen pizza he’d been holding into his basket before letting the door fall shut as he makes his way towards him.

Oh, oh no, it is him.

He tries to swallow, once, twice, before he manages it as his eyes rake over the bulge of muscle as Obi-wan’s arms move — flex — as he pushes his cart along with him.

Shit, he thinks with a mental whimper, this has definitely moved past a teeny tiny crush to full blown lust.