My Favorite Genre Of Photography Is Those Awkward Aotc Photos

my favorite genre of photography is those awkward aotc photos

for example:

these both look like you walked in on a private conversation and they want you to leave. it evokes SOME kind of emotion in me

This frame from the Clone Wars episode “Senate Murders” is gold.

“We heard you talking shit.”

aotc anakin: leave me alone master i’m an adult 🙄

tcw anakin: master if you don’t go to the dentist with me i will lose my shit

Qui-Gon Jinn apologist not in that I defend him but in that I’m always apologizing for his shit

for the one word prompt thing: 38 limbo!!!

limbo

A/N: HEY HEY HEY JAN!!!!! WHATS UP?!?!?! CAN U DO THE CAN CAN?!?!?!? Anyways, im sorry this took a while, plus its actually shit, and plus its short, but here it is. please guys SEND REQUESTS, AND ASKS (can be anon)!!!

WARNING: character has a sensory overload

(divider by @saradika-graphics)

Darkness flooded his senses as Hunter hurried into the tunnel, his brothers close behind him. Dust coated his dust, thick in the suddenly hard-to-swallow air. The walls seemed to close on him as he fumbled for his pistol, holding it out in front of him as though there was something coming.

But there wasn’t.

And he knew there wasn’t.

“Hunter?” Wrecker asked him, watching as the Sergeant licked his lips, breathing in deeply as his senses began to change for the new setting. Being underground messed with his senses, similar to electronics’ reception changed beneath the surface. “Ya alright?”

A hum fell from his lips as the darkness began to envelope him, closing in on all sides. Hunter hated underground, hated tunnels, hated caves. He hated tight spaces, where everything closed in and his senses sharpened only to find nothing staring back at him.

A state of limbo fell over him, unsure and unease swimming in his blood and bubbling in the back of his throat. He took a step forward, shining his torch into the dark as shadows leaped and chased at his ankles. The dark stared back, hollow, empty and eerie.

A hand suddenly moved to rest on his shoulder, and Hunter spun around quickly. So fast the air was knocked from his lungs and his eyes went wide. The below had left him wary and cautious, and perhaps fearful.

Crosshair analysed him carefully yet quickly, and Tech was doing the same. Echo stood by them, his helmet tucked under his arm and his face contorted with concern. “Are you okay?” The silver-haired sniper rasped, and Hunter felt his mind go blank.

He grappled internally for something - anything - only to resurface empty-handed. It was like he was leaning into the dark with his hands outstretched, waving around expecting to collide and grab something, his fingers grasping air as though it could help him.

Crosshair repeated his question, this time lightly nudging him as he did. 

But Hunter could only stare at him.

Just as the darkness did.

Stare.

“Hunter?” Crosshair prompted again, and this time Hunter heard his voice waver with a lick of worry. He could feel his brother’s fingers curling around his shoulder plate of armour, and used it to try and ground himself as he swam through the nothingness.

“I believe,” Tech began, watching Hunter carefully. A short breath in, a quick exhale. The rhythm, wasn’t enough, leaving his lungs craving more. “That Hunter is experiencing what may be his own body’s limitations rebelling in a sensory overload.”

Hunter knew his eyes were on Tech, but he couldn’t seem to see him. All he saw was a blurry figure, tears welling in his eyes. Sensory overload? No, no, it was just that he seemed to be choking on dust, and the walls were closing in, and the darkness was eating at him, and-

And maybe he was.

The mere idea of it shot panic through his body, his eyes searching for something. He blinked rapidly, bright neon shapes dancing in front of his vision. Desperation swallowed him, and he lunged forward, his back slamming into the cave wall as he spun.

His brothers were quickly by his side, their panicked voices creating a nauseating veil of horror. Crosshair was in front of him, and he moved to shuffle backwards, only to drip and land on the floor. He knelt down, removing his helmet, staring into Hunter’s eyes.

Words of unintelligible comfort floated through the air, and although he couldn’t understand the blur of syllables, the intention was clear. Hunter breathed in deeply, filling the air fill his lungs and the relief it provided. And then he exhaled. He pictured the oxygen in the air being transferred into his blood, pumping throughout his body. For some reason, the anatomic representation soothed him.

“That’s it, Hunter,” Crosshair muttered, his eyes still fixated on Hunter’s petrified ones. “In and out, in and out.” He followed Crosshair’s instructions, forcing his mind to focus on the way the words reached his ears and flooded his senses, forcing on the small instead of the big.

And it worked.

And soon, Hunter was breathing normally, and the tunnel wasn’t so tight, and the darkness wasn’t staring back at him any more.

And with Crosshair by his side, and Echo, Tech and Wrecker just behind, he was okay. 

He would be okay.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed!!!! Please send requests and asks!!!

(taglist: @skellymom, @techs-goggles9902)

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