#and now is no different. i need to die before i turn 25

[daz4i]

help me. i can't sleep

[bjurnberg]

My work boots are the most expensive shoes I’ve ever owned.

Also the most comfortable. I chose them after trying on several different brands and comparing lifespan vs usage vs comfort - I needed them for a physically demanding job, not the weekend hiking trails. I could have easily chosen cheaper boots that would have lasted long enough to be worth their low price, but I know the Sam Vimes Boot Theory and knew weaker, less comfortable boots would make my life harder in the long run.

So when the outside edge of the heel started wearing down after three years of heavy use I went to the shop I got them from and said “hey this is a common problem for me with how I walk but now it’s affecting my ankles and knees and I don’t wanna have to buy a new pair, is there a way to fix this?”

The salesman at this very fancy upscale boot store said “oh yeah, there’s a shoe repair place that can give you some heel guards - it’ll keep the rubber from wearing out.”

So at 8am this morning right after my 9hr shift ends I went to the shoe repair shop and it is the most hole-in-the-wall, is-this-a-real-business-or-a-mafia-front, am-I-gonna-get-shot tiny cinder block cube I’ve ever seen in my life. I grew up plenty poor and love me a good hole-in-the-wall business, but going from upscale store to this cash-only repair shop gave me whiplash. Wasn’t expecting this when a guy who wears three piece suits to sell boots said it’s the best place to go.

The skinny kid behind the counter looks somehow 16 and 25 at the same time, but when I tell him this place was recommended he smiles and says to hand over my boots. I hand him the vaguely warm foot-smelling boots, and stand in my socks in the 3’ square entryway surrounded by every color leather polish you could buy and watch as he turns my boots around in his hands, sizes up a crescent moon bits of plastic, and unceremoniously hammers tiny nails through them before handing them back.

The heels are perfectly level again. I can walk without almost rolling my ankles. They don’t clack loudly on the pavement or feel different. This is gonna fix my knee pain. It cost $10.

This kid had every tool he needed within arms reach, worked fast and smoothly, I was in and out the door in less than 8 minutes, and it only cost $10.

I didn’t think anything could cost only $10 anymore. I’m so used to hyperinflation prices I was spiritually thrown back to the 1400’s visiting the cobbler in town square. This kid might have been that cobbler and just decided to never die.

I’m still reeling from the whiplash, and gobsmacked at the price, and thrilled I didn’t have to go buy new, worse work boots (cuz I don’t have that kind of money for a second pair, I’m expecting these ones to last a decade) and it feels like I just experienced one of the rare little chunks of magic that floats around our world.

[celtic-crossbow]

Blood Ties Chapter 25

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Poorly written smut; Pregnancy symptoms; Pregnancy exams; Mild angst

A/N: I hope others laugh at this as hard as I did while writing it. Even if you don't, it's okay. I was greatly amused and I'm not ashamed.

Another cold night, but at least the house was on a hill and surrounded by trees on most sides; a large structure with a gated driveway. The fire was roaring and everyone was bedding down for the night in the same room since the last few times of sleeping in different rooms or on different levels had proven problematic when quick escape was needed. Carol chose to lay closer to the fireplace so you and Daryl could have the bedroll to yourselves—when you actually chose to go to bed.

“Has anyone seen Daryl or Y/N?” Lori asked after laying an extra blanket on your bedroll.

“She probably had to pee again.” Carl giggled from his sleeping bag. 

“Do you need something, Lori?” Carol sat up, hugging herself from the cool air when her blanket fell a little. Carol knew exactly where the two of you were and she would make sure you were left alone there.

You had gone from touch me not straight into don’t stop touching me. While Daryl felt pride in the fact that you only had eyes for him, he may or may not have been beginning to wonder if you could possibly break his dick. It had been nearly three straight days of a constant desire for him. That day alone, you had begged him to take you straight into the upstairs bathroom of the huge house and stuff you with three fingers, fucking two orgasms from you within moments. The two of you had filed back in with everyone else before your absence was even noticed. 

Everything had barely been brought from the vehicles before you were saying you needed to pee, tapping one finger against the middle of Daryl’s palm as you took his hand. A clear signal. Five minutes later, you were bouncing on his cock (with a little help) while he was sprawled out by a tree.

And now, Daryl was panting harshly, not even bothering to tuck himself away before or after he slid down the wall and landed on his ass. You were still bent over the sink, thighs a sticky mess, his spend leaking from your deliciously abused cunt. Grabbing your panties, leggings, and sweats to drag them up over your hips was almost impossible. Almost. You dared not ask your poor partner. 

You had been insatiable for him, needing his hands on you constantly. You seemed to be in a perpetual state of arousal, and god did he feel good. He had not complained a single time, even when it was clear he was tired or worried about something else. He took care of you first and foremost. And well, he was getting laid, so it wasn’t like he got nothing out of the deal. But as you turned to face him in that very moment, he just looked wrecked. Like if he tried to satisfy your urges one more time, he might literally die. With a fond smile, you stepped toward his outstretched legs and tapped the sole of his boot with the toe of your own. 

“Get up.” The look he gave you from beneath his lashes wasn’t angry. Far from it. It was reluctant and exhausted but he began to lever himself upright without a word, one corner of his mouth drawing upward for a brief moment when he was standing before you, seemingly awaiting your command. God, you had to admit that it was causing some seriously hard to ignore feelings in an area that had many times already been thoroughly fucked. You kept your eyes on his even as his pretty blues followed your hands toward his cock. He made no move to pull away or complain but you could have sworn you saw his entire body melt when you began to gingerly tuck him away. “Thank you for taking such good care of me.” You planted a kiss on his cheek. After everything he’d done for and to you that day, it was the gratitude that made him blush. You couldn’t have stopped the giggle if you tried. “Let’s go get some sleep, okay?”

“Ya good, then?” His hand came to rest on your hip, eyes questioning. 

“I’m better than good, Daryl. You,on the other hand, are about to fall asleep standing.” The archer didn’t argue. He must have known he was swaying on his feet. Driving and lugging around supplies and taking care of you, he had to be bone-weary. Regardless of your discomfort, the ache already returning in full force, you wanted him to rest. He was trying so hard to take better care of himself at your request—eating full meals, sleeping a little more, wearing more clothing when hunting so he stayed warm—that you didn’t want to be the cause of fucking up all you had worked so hard to instill in him. “Come on, sleep time for you.”

He simply nodded and let himself be led from the room with quite the yawn. It was all eyes on you the moment the two of you stepped foot inside the large den, the warmth of the fire overwhelming any anxiety the stares could have even remotely caused. Arousal was quickly dampened by the lure of impending sleep and warmth. Dary was not taking watch, set to hunt the next morning, so you’d have him to yourself all night. 

He let you under the blankets first, assisting you down until you were situated on your side. When he climbed in after you, he took his usual position and angled himself so that your belly could rest on his stomach and hip while you could curl right into his chest. As wound up as you had been only moments before, your body was now succumbing to the siren call of sleep. You just needed to take care of one more thing. 

“Daryl?”

“Hmm?” Even that simple acknowledgement was somehow slurred. You had really worn him out. 

“Sleep late and then go hunting, okay?” You wondered how hard you’d need to fight him. He gave in on a great many things as the pregnancy progressed and you became more and more uncomfortable, but hunting was his time to recharge. You didn’t want to take that away from him, but you were also afraid of him spiraling back into bad habits.

“Okay.” He breathed, sounding more than half asleep. You blinked against his chest. So, you just needed to fuck him senseless to get him to agree to important things. Noted. 

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

“I love you.”

He was already softly snoring, his warm breath disturbing your hair.

When you awoke, the sun’s warmth could not compare to the heat of the flames from the night before, but it was still welcome. It meant you had survived into another day. The fact that you were still firmly pressed against Daryl was an absolute bonus. It was well into the morning and he was still absolutely sound asleep. You weren’t worried that he was sick, even if the others most likely had their concerns. They were all accustomed to greeting him when they stepped outside to start the day or finding him completely absent on a hunt. You knew exactly why he slept late.

You felt him inhale deeply and begin to stir, grumbling something you didn’t understand. Pulling away to stretch, you felt a tug on your skin, drawing your attention to your chest, where your shirt had pulled from your flesh but was still stuck to Daryl’s button-up. “What the fuck?” The mortified look on the archer’s face said that he was thinking the same thing you were. You didn’t remember cum getting on your shirt or his, but you weren’t exactly thinking straight either. “Where’s your bag?”

Daryl jerked his chin toward the area just behind you. The man may have opened up around you and Carol but if anyone else saw this, even if they didn’t choose to laugh or tease—which was unlikely—you feared that Daryl would shut down and pull away from you.  

“And mine?” You asked, biting your lip.

He cleared his throat, the sound stuttering. “S’there too.” His back was to everyone but he’d know who was there. He had a way of identifying people through breath and footfall that was truly impressive. You, on the other hand, had to crane your neck to scope out the area. Carol was putting away some leftovers the best way she could. Lori was sitting with Carl, a math book on the kid’s lap. Glenn was laughing with Maggie in the doorway. Too many people. Daryl would likely run away, never to be seen again.

“Okay, first thing’s first.” You pried the articles of clothing apart, wincing at the nearly imperceptible sound that was likely heard by no one but sounded like a chainsaw to your ears. “I’m gonna go under the blankets so you can reach my bag for a different sweater. May as well grab your shirt while you’re there.”

“Gonna think you’re suckin’ my—”

“Well, you have two choices.” You whispered. “We can get up, grab our clothes to go change, and hope for the best. But we will have to walk past Glenn.” You peered around Daryl’s head to find Glenn and Maggie exactly where they had been, only T-Dog had joined them. “Or we can try and change under these blankets. I’ll giggle and mention Thumper, and they won’t think anything of it.”

“Right.” Dary didn’t seem convinced but kept the blankets high over both of you while he reached across your head, snagging both of your bags by the small strap at the top. He dragged them over and riffled through them, swallowing convulsively while pulling out shirts for each of you. “Got ‘em.”

“Okay, this might be a little tricky, but it’s doable.”

It was indeed tricky, but it was also indeed doable. The blankets were over your heads as you changed, with your originally planned giggles easily shifting into real ones. Thumper had joined the party and seemed to be aiming for their dad’s crotch each time your bodies touched. You could have sworn you heard a huff of a laugh from Daryl a couple of times as well. With a chuckle of hold still, you made sure the buttons of your partner’s shirt were even and patted his chest.

“All jizz free.” You whispered with a nod, feeling his fingers brush your skin while he pulled your pale blue, long sleeved t-shirt down to cover your belly.

“Gross.” 

“You say that like it’s been in your mouth before.” The look on his face had you laughing out loud and Daryl throwing back the blankets before the others could assume anything more was happening. The archer clambered off the bedroll and stretched, then held out a hand to you. You swatted it away. “I’m gonna stay here for a bit. My back hurts.”

“Whatever.” He shrugged. “M’goin’ huntin’. Ya stay close to ev’ryone else, ya hear?”

“I will. I promise.” When you met his eyes, they were full of such softness that you could almost feel it on your skin. He was taking each promise you made to heart and trusting you to keep them. And you would, even if staying inside made your skin crawl sometimes. Hell, being outside made your skin crawl. With the hormones taking over, you were fighting a losing battle, so you might as well choose the side that kept you and Thumper safe.

“Alright then. Be back ‘fore dark.” Daryl grabbed his crossbow from against the nearest wall, brushing a hand over the top of your head before it latched onto the top of his bag to hoist it off the floor, his gaze still meeting yours. “Promise.”

So this was a thing now. Promises between you. It both terrified you and filled your heart to the point of nearly bursting. You gave him a nod whilst fighting back the tears you knew would come the moment he was out of sight. He didn’t need to worry that he’d done something wrong. And he would because Daryl was still learning how to process anything that didn’t hurt. He was definitely still working on his social skills if his bark of what’re ya lookin’ at toward Glenn was anything to go by. Both he and Maggie looked at you with wide eyes but you just waved it off.

“Ignore him. He doesn’t know how to people. You know that.” 

“Well, he sure knows how to Y/N.” Maggie chided, smiling as she sat down next to you. You chuckled nervously, struggling to sit up so you could shove the dirty clothing into your bag.

“Shush. We just get each other and it was a long road to get to this point. Plus, I think he likes Thumper just a little.” The baby was active, already missing Daryl’s presence which would never cease to amaze you. “Who’s doing laundry today? I’d like to help.”

Maggie was already shaking her head before you could finish speaking. “Daddy needs to check you out. You’re almost 36 weeks, Y/N. You could go into labor anytime. Ask him what you can do and what you can’t and then we’ll worry about laundry.” You made a whining noise in the back of your throat and almost plopped back down on the bedroll but thought better of it at the last minute. It took so much effort to sit back up.

“Fine. Can he come now?” You sighed.

Maggie gave you a comforting smile and squeezed your shoulder. “Sure. Let me go get him.”

You nodded with a tight-lipped smile. She was absolutely right. Thumper’s arrival was growing closer and closer by the day; the hour even. And you were scared. What if something went wrong? You’d seen in the movies that the baby could get stuck. The cord could be wrapped around their little neck. Your pelvic structure could prohibit a natural birth and you would need a cesarean section. Were there even supplies for that? What about sedation or local anesthetic? What if Daryl decided then that it was all too much and ran? You couldn’t do any of it without him, you knew that now. 

“Easy, young lady.” Hershel soothed, already having knelt beside you at some point. “You’re white as a sheet and hyperventilating.”

“S–sorry. I’m okay.” You stammered, leaning back on your hands so he would have access to your belly. “Just— I’m scared shitless, Hershel.” As per usual, his steady hands hovered until you nodded your permission for him to roll up your shirt. The moment the cool air hit your skin, there was movement below it, a hand or foot pushing up hard enough that you could actually see it. 

“Well, they’re definitely active.” The old man chuckled. “Let’s see if we can check the heartbeat around all that wiggling.” You laughed but it was real, muffled by the fear welling up in your chest. “Well, the heartbeat is great. I need to do an examination, both external and internal. I will explain everything before proceeding. Would you be alright with that? We can go in the downstairs bedroom with Maggie or Beth if you would be more comfortable.”

Maggie was already leaning in the doorway with Glenn, giving you a nod that she was fine with being present. “Yeah, okay.” You started trying to get up on your own but that proved to be futile. Before you could even ask, Glenn was holding out both hands. “Thank you.” You whispered. This was all so personal and it felt like you shouldn’t be going through any of it alone. “Has—did Daryl leave already?”

“He may still be outside. Rick grabbed him for something. I’ll go check.” The words came out so fast that you barely caught them before Glenn was gone and Maggie was helping you lie down.

“I mean, can this wait if he isn't here? I don’t—” The tears came before you had any means of stopping them. You couldn’t sit back up without assistance so you just pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes and sobbed, chest heaving and body trembling. You wanted Daryl, after trying so hard to prove you could handle things without him. You needed him.

“The hell’d ya do to ‘er?!” 

You had never been so relieved to hear that irritated tone. Gasping for air, you reached blindly for him, his hands wrapping around your forearms to pull you up and against his chest. 

“Nothing, son. We were going to do an exam to check the baby.” You opened your eyes to see Hershel standing several feet back with his hands up, palms out. Maggie wasn’t glaring but she looked serious, ready to defend her father. “It would be invasive and she was frightened. We wouldn’t have done anything without her permission.”

“I just—wanted you—I wanted you here.” You hiccupped, gripping his shirt tighter. There was a jerk of his body and then the sound of the door closing. You were alone with him.

“M’here.” He didn’t move other than to pull you in tighter, the hold would have been uncomfortable any other time but it was exactly what you needed at that moment. “Wanna tell me what happened?”

“He—he needed to do something inside. It wasn’t that—I didn't think he was gonna hurt me and Maggie was here, but it just felt like something you should be here for too. Like a huge event in all this.” You sniffled, wiggling a hand free after a bit of struggle so that you could wipe your face on your sleeve. “I’m sorry, I know you wanted to hunt.”

“Nuh uh. Wanna be here more. The fuck he need to go inside for?” Now he sounded more than irritated, as if Hershel was trying to take advantage of you in some way. 

“There’s gonna be a lot of that, I think. I mean, if everything goes well, the baby’s coming out of my vagina, so I guess he needs to be all up in there to make sure it’s ready or something? Doesn’t it mention this in one of your books?” You pushed against his chest, but he hesitated in letting go. Finally, he dropped his arms but kept a hand on the top of your stomach. Thumper’s movements slowed to flutters.

“Ain’t had much time for readin’, Sunshine.”

You were in the middle of rubbing your eyes when you slid them to the side, your nose scrunching and mouth tilting into a smile. “Sunshine?”

“S’that or ‘pain in my ass’. I ain’t picky.” He huffed, picking at a thread on his tattered button-up. 

“I’ll take Sunshine, thanks. You’re adorable, Daryl Dixon.”

“Ugh, don’t get sappy.” He curled his lip, pulling away when you reached for his face.

“You already took it way past sappy, sir.” When he kept that small distance, you grabbed his collar and tugged him forward to press a kiss to his mouth. He reciprocated without hesitance, a small reassurance you reveled in when it came to your relationship. “Thank you for not running.”

“Ain’t a pussy. Told ya from the get-go that we’d handle it.” His forehead was against yours, the tip of his nose nuzzling your own. “Called ya Sunshine back then too.”

“That, you did.” You recalled the memory fondly. God, he was such an asshole back then. Still was in some ways but he was yours. You distantly wondered if he always had been. “Just needed a little help bringing out the inner romantic.”

“Don’t push it. Don’t got a romantic bone in my body.” 

You hummed, done with teasing him for the moment. “I guess we should let Hershel do what he needs to and get it over with.” You bit your lip, sliding it back and forth between your teeth. “Will you stay?”

“Course.” His knuckles gently grazed your jaw and then he was up and opening the door, jerking his head toward you to invite them back inside. “Don’t make ‘er cry again.” He warned, taking his spot beside you and helping you lie back.

Hershel only smiled. “I’ll try my best, son.” Maggie wasn’t there but came in, carrying a bowl of water and a cloth, before the old man could do anything. “There’s a couple of things I need to examine. First, I’ll do an external examination. I’m going to palpate your abdomen, feel the position of the baby. At this stage in the pregnancy, we want to ensure the baby is turning into a head down position. They should come out head first, not feet. Is it alright for me to continue?”

You nodded quickly. With Daryl there, the anxiety was held at bay. The man formed a physical wall between you and the fear that wanted to suffocate you, whether he knew it or not. He was watching intensely as your shirt was lifted, the veterinarian’s hands moving with a knowledge you were surprised to find he possessed given he had only dealt with animals. He was likely reading just as Daryl had, probably more. 

You winced when it seemed he was squeezing around the baby’s form, though the touch was gentle, feeling Daryl tense beside you. Your hand found his immediately and he settled. 

“Ev’rything good, doc?” The archer’s voice was just shy of a snap. He muttered an apology when you squeezed his fingers.

“It seems the baby has mostly turned to the correct position. Have you felt any increase in pelvic pressure or need to urinate?”

“She’s been pissin’ like a racehorse for weeks.” Daryl huffed, earning an elbow to the ribs.

“No more than usual.” You clarified. Hershel nodded.

“It’s unlikely that the baby has dropped then. I have limited experience with human patients but I have had wives that gave me children. When they dropped, it was described to me as a sudden weight deeper in the pelvis. They could breathe easier and felt hungrier, as there was more room in the upper abdomen. The need to urinate increased even more than it already had throughout the pregnancy.” You were nodding, Daryl was squinting, soaking it all in and filing it away. “Just let me know when you feel those changes, okay?”

“Okay.” You answered quietly, this time feeling Daryl squeezing your fingers.

“This next part will be invasive, and I’m sorry for that. I need to check your cervix, see if it’s softening or dilating.” When Daryl didn’t comment, you were sure those were terms he had read. You vaguely knew what they meant from the movies you had seen. “I can have Maggie remove your—”

“I got it.” Daryl interjected, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles before releasing your hand. You watched him move, biting your lip when he pressed one knee between your feet and reached to grab the waistband of your layers, bringing all three down in motion. You had to think of anything else to keep Hershel from seeing what Daryl had the ability to do to you. Placing your clothes by your feet, the bowman cleared his throat. “Make it quick.”

Hershel smiled and shook his head while washing his hands with the soap and water Maggie had brought but he said nothing about Daryl’s protectiveness. Perhaps he understood how fragile the archer’s ability to handle his emotions truly was, and with that knowledge, he saw no reason to put further strain on the young man.

“I’m going to begin the pelvic exam now. It might be a little uncomfortable.”

“Okay.” You took a deep breath, closing your eyes with a smile when Daryl’s arm wiggled beneath you to wrap around your shoulders. Hershel was right, it truly was uncomfortable. It wasn’t at all like what you had imagined, which to be quite honest, you thought it would be more like being fingered by Daryl. This was in no way pleasurable. First of all, it was Hershel. Secondly, there was pushing down just below the baby while at the same time, moving two fingers. It wasn't just uncomfortable. It was really uncomfortable. At one point, you whimpered ow and had to grab Daryl’s forearm to keep him from lashing out. 

Finally, it was over. Hershel was washing his hands again. “The cervix is softening, which is exactly what we want at this stage according to my reading. You’re not dilated, which is also what we’d like right now. That could begin to change in a few days, and that would be okay. There’s no way of really knowing exactly how far along you are but based on what I know of you, and keeping up with the calendar the best I could, you are right at 36 weeks.” You nodded, smiling softly as Daryl reached forward to push your knee down, urging you to close your legs even while he never looked away from the old man. 

“That’s good, right?” You asked, struggling to sit up until Daryl looped an arm behind you again and easily got you there.

“That’s wonderful. It’s my opinion, which isn’t the best mind you, that you could safely have this baby anytime now.”

You took a deep breath and nodded, watching all the color drain from Daryl’s face beside you. “Daryl?”

“You alright, son?” Hershel’s expression showed concern but his eyes were laughing. He knew the look on Daryl’s face and he knew it well. “It’s okay to be nervous. You’re a first time father. It will be—”

“G’on, old man. M’fine.” 

You chuckled. “Thank you, Hershel. I feel a lot—” Moving to sit up straighter, you looked down when you felt cold against your skin. Two quarter-sized wet patches were clear on your pale blue shirt, just over your nipples. “What the hell?” Even Maggie’s eyebrows were raised. Daryl just looked as puzzled as you did.

“That’s colostrum.” The old vet answered as if you knew what the fuck that meant. “It’s the first thing your breasts produce to feed the baby when it’s born, before the actual milk comes in. This is a good sign that your body is getting ready.”

“Like—soon?” You gulped.

“It doesn’t have an effect on the timeline, one way or another. It just means your body knows what it’s doing. You may want to ask for some breast pads on the next run or just fold some cloth for your bra.”

“Wait—so that wasn’t cum?” It was out of your mouth before you had processed a single word of it. Hershel’s brow furrowed, Maggie doubled over laughing, and poor Daryl was three seconds from jumping out the window. “I’m just—oh god, just leave us to die in here, thanks.” You could still hear Maggie laughing after the door closed but luckily she had nodded in reaction to your pleading look to keep it to herself. When you looked at him, Daryl's elbows were on his knees and his face was in his hands. You could see the red flush traveling all the way to his ears. “It wasn’t jizz. Yay?”

“Just—stop talkin’.”

“I love you.” 

“So ya keep sayin’.”

[ghouljams]

Alright more Demon!Darlings Au because I was thinking about it at the airport and typed this out while I was at the bar. Waiting. For 5 hours... Ghost’s demon’s name, a little bit of their magic, and a lot of me just vibing.

"Die, you there?" Ghost asks aloud, pressing his finger to his mic out of habit.

"Always," your voice hums by his ear, as clear as if you were next to him, you might be, he hasn't really figured out how this works, "what do you need?"

"Need a count on hostiles in the area."

"Parameters?"

"Hundred meter radius," he presses his back to the wall and waits, he's getting used to this. The loss of pressure on his chest when you leave, the warmth of your return.

"Four count 25 meters ahead, another six 50 meters to your right and zero behind," you pause, "nice work on that by the way."

"Thanks," Ghost checks his mag, crouches to grab the spare you offer from his shadow.

"Want me to drop 'em?"

"Negative."

"You never let me have any fun," he can hear you pouting, "what's the point of having a demon if you never let them do anything demonic?"

"Didn't ask you to tag along, you can shove off back to hell any time." Ghost nods, satisfied with his weapons check and lifts his gun to the ready, pushing off the wall to continue his sweep. You're more than happy to keep your thoughts on that little remark to yourself. Plenty of soldiers would love to have a demon, just because he's perpetually woken up on the wrong side of the bed…

"On your left," you whisper, watching Ghost turn and execute the target with brutal efficiency. Aw, you can't stay mad at him. "Stellar work LT, must have a guardian angel."

"Pushing it," he grumps, unloading the life from another two combatants as he moves closer to target.

You get the memo, less talky, more helping him keep his head. You wonder if any other demons have to deal with this or if you just got assigned to a particularly difficult human. Well, you eye his soul, human might be pushing it.

You whisp ahead, stretching out through the shadows to feel out positions and not to kill anyone, a real misuse of your power honestly, before reporting back to Ghost. He touches his mic whenever he talks to you, it's funny. Like you're going to talk over comms and not directly to him. You keep eyes on him, collecting unused ammunition from corpses and handing it up to him from the shadows whenever he reaches for it. It’s easy work if a waste of your talents.

But if this is how he wants to do things, you’re not going to disagree. You can give him shit for it all you want but at the end of the day he’s technically in command. You wonder if other demons have this much trouble with their summoners. You barely managed to tell him your name before he seemed completely uninterested in you. Now you felt like you were just a glorified UAV in his eyes. Hardly a decent prize for a man of his caliber. You’re sure he feels the same way.

Maybe he’s disappointed in you? Maybe he was expecting a different sort of demon, something less specialized? Maybe he wanted a hell hound or one of those idiots from the all brawn no brain division. He’s practically starving you of your purpose.

Your distraction has consequences. A lone man jumping from a shadowing hiding spot to attach Ghost from behind. You feel him as soon as his feet hit the floor, already vibrating on the edge of violent impact. This is what you’re made for.

Ghost is just a moment too slow, the enemy combatant already halfway towards bashing his skull with the butt of their rifle. Thankfully you have no problem with reaction times. Flicking your wrist to direct you magic, and Ghost’s shadow to do the one thing you’re best at. A long needle of inky shadow pierces through their neck straight through the back of their skull. The man chokes and gurgles blood, dropping his gun to claw and grasp at your construct. Ghost has his knife drawn, you imagine it was with the intent to enact a similar violence. He glances down at the blade, your eyes blinking back at him curiously through the reflection on metal. 

“What else can you do?” He asks, professional curiosity coloring his tone more than he’d care to admit. You feel your lips curl into a grin. You’d been hoping he’d ask.

[ceasarslegion]

Whenever PETA or other ARAs come up i always think of the 40 year old bear from the zoo in the city i grew up in

This guy looked a bit worse for wear. He had his own enclosure too, because the other bears played too rough for him. He once got on infection on his rump that the vet had to shave all the fur away from to do a physical inspection on it, so for a while it looked like he wasn't wearing pants and there was a hunk of scar tissue where the infection once was. If you looked at him with no knowledge of bears, you might think he was being horribly abused. And we got our fair share of ARAs freaking the fuck out and claiming he was while calling for the whole zoo to be shut down.

Thing is though, he wasn't abused at all. He was thriving. His age just meant that he had different needs now regarding things like enrichment and his enclosure and the medical treatment he got. He was 40 years old, and that bear species usually only lives to 25. He liked to lie around and bask in the sunlight not because he was in pain or starving, but because his age made him lazy and sleepy, and in captivity he never had to worry about other animals threatening him. His toys were softer and easier to chew on than the ones in the other, younger bears' enclosure. They also installed a little grate on the outer wall for him to paw at when he wanted a snack. The others had set feeding times, he just ate when he was hungry because turns out that bears are not immune to age-related tummy hurties. The keepers once told me that he also got special medicine crushed up in his food so he wouldnt feel any joint pain and could move about freely to do bear things.

And I saw that bear a lot before he ultimately passed away. He was always very relaxed, never seemed tense or anxious, and I think he was born in captivity too because he was very used to people and would often sit and watch us like he was the one at the zoo. They eventually had to euthanize him because his meds werent working anymore and they didnt want his quality of life to suffer, and he'd lived 2 bear lifetimes already. I dont think that bear was ever abused, i think he lived a very spoiled and happy life. Probably lasted that long because he was like "this is a sweet deal im not leaving yet. Ill die when i feel like it."

[gotasenseivebeenbetrayed]

peter

"Preserved from when we were just kids" "The goddess of timing Once found us beguiling"

The first part, they were 18 and 22 when they first got together and during the beginning of their relationship and "beguiling" means enchanting/charming - and the World was enchanted by them when they were together (aside from the haters) and then even while they were off and on over the years, he was always the one that she said would come in and out of her life and they'd "never be over", all which still fits with that beguiling line.

"I thought it was just goodbye for now"

"You said you were gonna grow up Then you were gonna come find me"

This is NOT giving me Matty vibes at all and I'll die on that hill. Again, 18 and 22 fits here more than 24 and 25. Sure, you're still growing at 24/25 don't get me wrong but, Matty was very much not saying "I'm going to grow up and come find you one day" at 25 years old in the height of his addiction and during his "I can't be with someone bigger than me because I want success on my own". This is giving "I was 18 when we got together and I need to figure my shit out but, one day we'll be together when I do". This also fits her saying he was always in and out of her life. She's been waiting for him to grow up and come find her again.

"But life was always easier on you Than it was on me"

She got way more hate during their relationship than he did, as she mentions in Slut! On top of the fact, he dated/had flings with many women back to back and never got shit for it but, she dates men back to back and gets hated for it. Granted, that could fit just about any male if we're honest but, she specifically wrote Slut! about Harry so.

"When crossing your jet stream We both did the best we could do Underneath the same moon In different galaxies"

This is giving me very much "we were constantly traveling for work and maybe my jet would cross over yours and we'd end up in the same place and try to make it work and then again when we were so far away from each other". It's also interesting that this album has quite a bit of talk about galaxies/aliens/moons and then circus/con men etc. when the last two MVS we got from Harry were "Satellite" and "Daylight" - Satellite which has the imagery of the sky/galaxy and saying he's waiting for her and then we have "Daylight" which is a circus theme MV.

"And I won't confess that I waited, but I let the lamp burn As the men masqueraded, I hoped you'd return With your feet on the ground, tell me all that you'd learned"

Here she's saying she dated other men during their time apart but, she was always still waiting for him to return to her and tell her he's grown up, figured out what he wanted, and that it's her.I also get the vibe she mentions men specifically because she was talking about him still being a "boy", so she dated men waiting for him - Calvin/Tom because they were her age range and they were "masquerading" as her boyfriend.

"And you said you'd come and get me, but you were twenty-five And the shelf life of those fantasies has expired"

This specific line is what has everyone thinking Matty but, they MET when he was 25. He was not laying all these promises out to her then and that's not what this line is saying to me. It's saying that the muse made all these promises to her BEFORE he turned 25 and then they saw each other again when he was 25 - he told her "I made those as a kid, they've expired now that we're older, they were just fantasies". Harry was 25 when he released Fine Line and when they saw each other at Ed's wedding. My guess is that was the first time they'd seen each other in a while and there was a talk that night and he might've said something along those lines or she took it that way.

All of this to also say the obvious ties of "Peter" and this song bringing the Peter Pan imagery and then "Peter Losing Wendy" reference in "Cardigan" which is obviously about Harry Styles. The fact people want to connect that with Matty now because they think this song is Matty is wild. Matty was not that young when they met, 25 is still a grown ass adult. Technically Harry was 17 when he met Taylor and who knows if they actually dated before he turned 18 or not. But James in Cardigan acts like a 17/18 year old Harry probably would've acted vs a 25 year old man. And even IF Matty and Taylor had a thing back then, it was an incredibly quick fling. Sleeping together and maybe a few dates but, they were definitely never in a relationship. She did not write Cardigan about a short fling.

[reallypleasanttree]

Another Obamitsu Drabble- Canon divergent. Spoilers for the Hashira Training Arc.

“I won’t live past 25,” Mitsuri said, holding her spoon an inch from her lips. Amane told her the truth of it during the Hashira meeting. No one with a demon slayer mark lived past 25. After the meeting, excluding Tomioka, she invited everyone out to dinner. Now she sat alone with Iguro-San in a private dining room. Everyone else went home. “They say you’ll never know when you’re going to die, but now I have a time frame.” 

She stared at the wall vacantly. It was surreal. She had six years left if it was true. What would she do with the rest of her time? She wanted to be someone’s wife and have children. Mitsuri set down her spoon and looked at Iguro-san. His eyes watched her with empathy, closing a bit more than normal. 

“I am not sure what to say,” Iguro-San said. Under the bandages his lips seemed to twitch and there were worry lines on his forehead. “It’s a sacrifice I wish you did not have to make. If I could I would switch places with you,” he said, glancing away. “You deserve a happy life surrounded by your loved ones.”

This was why she loved him. His kind words and willingness to sacrifice for her and others. There were rumors he was mean and cruel to the lower ranked slayers, but he would defend any of them. He sought out the tougher missions before he was even a Hashira according to Shinobu. Always willing to risk himself for the corps. She admired his dedication and hard work. 

 The pink haired woman licked her lips in thought. Her dream was to be a wife and mother. She didn’t want to be someone’s wife, she wanted to be Iguro-san’s wife. There was clarity in the realization. Setting down her spoon in the bowl, she turned her body towards him. Her temperature rose and her cheeks colored as she decided to jump. 

“I am surrounded by those I love,” Mitsuri started. He looked up at her. “I love everyone I have met in the Corps. The Butterfly House girls, the attendants, the lower ranked members, and the other Hashira…” her voice trailed off. She had to say something more to let him know how she felt. Words escaped her. Iguro-San shifted in his seat. Kaburamaru stared intently at her in curiosity and curled tighter around his friend’s shoulders. 

“You as well, Kaburamaru-San,” she added with a grin and reached up to stroke the snake’s head. He raised his head to meet her hand. The touch forced her to relax and clear her mind. 

“Iguro-San, I love you,” Mitsuri said plainly. It didn’t need to be a great declaration of love where she prepared a long poem or gifted him with expensive gifts. No, it was clear cut. 

The man beside her was silent, but kept eye contact. He grasped his pant leg under the table, the veins becoming more prominent. She reached for his hand and held it in her lap. “If I only have six years left,” her thumb swept over the backside of his hand. “I want to spend them as your wife.” 

The man was stunned and the silence dragged. His hand squeezed hers, so he was not devoid of reaction. Her heart hammered. She could not leave this world without taking a chance. 

“Kanroji-San, I cannot offer you anything,” Iguro-San whispered. “My entire family is dead. When I chose to be a demon slayer I swore I would die fighting until Muzan was gone. I would only disappoint you,” he continued. 

“You’ve never disappointed me and you never will. You try your hardest in every endeavor you take. Why would marriage be any different?” Mitsuri asked. 

“It’s not that-“ he turned his head and looked at the wall. “I’m not good. I am a beast beneath these bandages,” he pointed to the wraps. “My family cut my face for the demon they worshiped. The demon wanted to taste my blood. I was raised to be a sacrifice and I continue to live as a sacrifice. I'm not meant to live long,” Iguro-San said as his jaw clenched. 

Mitsuri was not deterred by his words. She brought his hand to her face and kissed his fingers. “I’m not either. I only have one question and please answer truthfully, do you love me?” She asked. His posture was rigid. 

“Yes,” he breathed, “I love you.” Thud. Thud. Thud. Her heart fluttered and kissed his hand again, unable to contain herself. 

“Then make a sacrifice for me. Marry me,” Mitsuri smiled at him. He twisted himself towards her, eyes wide. “Marry me. Make me your bride. Allow me to love you for the rest of my life at least. Let me love you,” Mitsuri pleaded. 

Instead of replying, Iguro-San pulled the bandages from his face and leaned forward. His lips crashed into hers. She didn’t even have enough time to process what just happened until she felt his hand curl under her jaw. Her hand found his neck and pulled him closer. Warmth spread over her body as they kissed. 

“I’ll marry you. I will make you happy, I promise,” he whispered against her lips. “Until you or I pass into the afterlife.” 

“And in our next life I’ll give you more than six years,” Mitsuri promised, “I’ll give you a lifetime.” 

[andydrysdalerogers]

The Type You Save - F I F T E E N

James "Bucky" Barnes and OFC Alexandra "Alex" Richards

Detective James Barnes hasn't seen the love of his life in three years. Since the night she was almost caught stealing a painting. He knows it was her and she disappeared leaving him confused and heart broken.

Alexandra Richards never expected to be pulled back into her old life two years after she left it. She had found love and a home and was happy. Until a note blackmailed her to take one last job. Three years later she walked into the last person she expected to see in San Francisco. Because he lived in New York right?

They always put family before everything. And he would do anything to get his family back. Because she's the type you save.

TW: mob, death, smut, rape intentions, angst, guns, family abandonment, dub-con, manipulation

A/N: We are nearing the end!

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Previous: F O U R T E E N

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Christian Grey has always appreciated the finer things in life.  Luxurious home, top of the range car, Cristal, 25-year-old scotch, the works. A man of his status and wealth should have a standard.  Including the right woman.  

Alexandra Richards was that woman.  

He stared at the woman next to him as Nate drove, Walker beside him.  He watched as she wiped an errant tear that fell to her cheek.  She kept her face to the window, studying the country side as they drove.  She didn’t bother asking where they were going, they would never tell her.  

“Pet, would you like some water?”  

“No, thank you.”  

“Alexandra, you need to eat or drink something.”  

“Not if I want to die, Mr. Grey.”  Her tone remained even, never looking away from the window.  

Grey grounded his teeth, wanting to force her to drink.  But he waited, allowing her emotions.  She was different than his pet from before.  She was strong, independent before.  Now she was despondent, fragile.  A mother.  She was in mourning for the loss of her son.  He would try and change that soon but for now, he needed to break her and change her back to the woman she was.  

His Alexandra.  

James watched from the doorway of his sleeping son’s room, observing his little body as it curled around his teddy bear.  He knew the sleep was from exhaustion, having to have explained to his son that his mother wasn’t going to be here for a while. He was a momma’s boy through and through.  He closed the door softly and back into the empty apartment.   

Steve was still tracking Alex.  He almost laughed to himself again.  He went to their bedroom and to his side table.  He lifted the necklace from its place.  The duplicate he had switched in Alex’s jewelry box was damn near perfect.  Either she had noticed and didn’t say anything or she was losing her touch.  Either way, the switch had allowed a tiny tracker to be embedded with her.  That’s why Steve was on the hunt.  

After searching for Zemo at his home and secondary office, it was painfully clear that he had been the mole for some time now.  It was too coincidental that Walker had found Alex so quickly. The APB was out for everyone. All he could do now was wait.  His phone went off.  

Stark: He’s still tracking.  They’ve almost made it to Tahoe  Barnes: ok   Stark: We’ll find her  Barnes: I know.  Just bring my son’s mother home to him.   Barnes: Bring her back to me 

James laid down and clutched her pillow.  It still smelled like her.  Of strawberries and roses, of her. Finally, twelve hours after she disappeared, he cried.  

Alex jolted awake as the car slowed to a stop.  She looked around in the darkness, unsure of where she was. She could make out the outline of trees in the moonlight but after that, she had no clue.  Until she turned to see a house. It was out of a movie.  Stark white, wrap around porch with large windows.  Nate and Walker were already out of the car and walking up while Grey was studying her as she took in the home.  “What do you think?” 

“It’s a beautiful home.”  She wouldn’t lie.  

“Good.” Grey gave her a smile.  “I built it for you.”  

“For me?” 

“You had a house, similar to this, in that notebook you used to have.  Your journal.  I found it after you left and wanted to have something ready for you when you came back.”  

“I didn’t come back.  You kidnapped me.”  

“You left voluntarily.”  

“To save my husband and son.”  

“Your husband?” Grey sneered.  “Your husband is nothing compared to me.”  

“My husband is a thousand times the man you will ever be.”  

Grey reached and grabbed her by the hair, and she squealed in pain.  “Listen to me Alexandra.  You are mine now. You made your choice.” He pulled a little harder and she whimpered.  “I do miss that sound pet.”  

“Please, stop.”  

“No.”  He opened the car door and dragged her out.  She screamed and thrashed but Grey gripped her arm.  “This is your home now Alex. Let’s get you acquainted.” He pulled her up the steps.  She had no time to take in the interior as Grey marched her up to the master bedroom.  “I have clothes and toiletries in the bathroom.  There is nothing sharp or poisonous in here so don’t try.  I’ll be back.”  

Grey slammed the door closed and she heard a click as she was now locked in the room.  She sank to the floor and cried.  

Being a MIT graduate should have been something that Grey had factored into his grand scheme.  There is always something sharp or poisonous in everything. After crying, Alex got to work, taking the plastic toothbrush and using the counter to sharpen it. She just had to get past the door, and she could fight her way out. She hoped Nate would help her at some point, but she couldn’t count on that.  

Keeping her crude tool close, Alex decided to inspect the rest of the room. The windows were locked, meaning the only way was to break them, attracting unwanted attention.  Clothing in her size were in the drawers, no strings on any of them. Slip on shoes negated laces. Bastard really did think of almost everything. She heard footsteps coming and she hid the toothbrush under the pillow.  She sat against the headboard, as far away as possible.  The door opened revealing Nate.  Alex let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.  “Hey Nate.”  

“Hey Allie Cat.”  

“That’s a new one.”  

“Had time to think about it.”  He went to sit on the edge of the bed, but still blocking the door.  “I told you to run.”  

“And I told you that I couldn’t abandon my family again.”  

“Were you always this stubborn?” 

She shrugged.  “Probably.  But we were usually on the same team.”  She studied Nate.  He looked tired, worn.  “What is the plan for me Nate?” 

“The plan?  The plan.  Shit Alex, you should know the Boss by now.  He’s gonna want his pet back by his side.”  

“That’s not going to happen.”  

“He’s gonna try and break you Alex if you don’t do it willingly. This is why I told you to run.  But no, the great Cat Burglar had to do things her own way.”  Nate started to pace.  “Fuck Alex, I tried to protect you.  I found you three times before he sent Walker.  And he only sent Walker when that fucker Zemo ratted you out.”  

“Zemo?  Zemo is yours?”  

“Not mine Alex.  His.” He cupped her face.  “I’m sorry.  I’m only up here because Grey asked me to try to convince you. Just give in.  Save yourself.  If only so that you save your son, your husband from any more pain. Please Alex.”  

“I can’t,” she whispered. “I love my husband and my family. I need my family Nate.  I need them just as much as I need you. Please help me.”  

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I wish I could.” He stepped back. “I’ll do what I can for you.  But unless by some miracle you are found, you are his.”  He turned and left the room, locking it as he went.  

It was deathly quiet now. And a sob was ripped from room as Alex began to wail.  

Nate walked back downstairs, trying to ignore the sobs that were now being ripped from her chest.  His best friend.  Well former best friend after his act of betrayal.  He made it to the living room and walked past Walker and Grey.  He reached the bar cart and poured himself a drink.  He needed to feel numb now.  

“What did she say?” Grey asked, looking up from the papers he was studying.  

“That she wants to go home to her family.”  

Walker let out a sadistic laugh.  “Kitty lost her claws. What a little pussy.”  

Grey glared at Walker until the man’s face fell.  He snorted. “That’s a shame.” He looked up at the stairs.  “Let her cry it out tonight.  We start tomorrow.”  

“Start with what?” Nate looked at his boss.  

“Breaking her.”  

Steve could hear snippets of the conversation happening in the home.  He peaked in to see the three men sitting and talking before the one with the drink threw it back and slammed it down, exiting the room. Steve picked up his phone.  

Rogers: found her  Stark: thank god. She ok?  Rogers: no idea. Security tight no clean entry or exit  Stark: fuck. Ok. I’ll reach out to local  Rogers: roger that.  

He looked around and saw the guy who left angrily now standing on the porch, hand on the railing, head bowed.  The man shuddered like he was trying to keep his emotions in. “Fucking Alex, why doesn’t she listen?” 

“She does that.”  Nate swiveled to look at Steve.  He went to reach for his weapon, but Steve drew first.  “Whoa there, sunshine.” Nate slowly raised his hands. “I think you and I are after the same thing.  To help Alex.”  

Nate cocked his head. “You’re Steve.”  

“You must be Nate. If I lower my weapon, we cool?” 

“Yeah.”  

Steve holstered his weapon. “Can they hear us in there?” 

“No, but better safe than sorry.  Garage in the back. Meet you there in five.”  Nate went back inside.  

Steve made is way around through the woods.  He waited behind until Nate called for him. “How is she?” 

“She’s scared and probably planning to do something stupid.  She’s Alex.”   

Steve huffed.  “Yeah, typical.  Look I have reinforcements coming but it will take until morning to get them here.  I need to know how I can get in there and rescue her.”  

Nate sighed.  “You’ll help with my case?” 

“For Alex, yeah I will.”  

James was awakened by his phone a few hours later.  He reached over, the bright screen hitting his eyes causing him to squint.  

Stark: He found her  Barnes: She ok?  Stark: status undeterminable but I’ve sent locals to help  Barnes: give me the coordinates.   Stark: sent. I’m coming with.  Be there in 10 

James called Natasha.  “We found her.”  

Oh thank god.  

“I need you to come stay with Drew.”  

I’m on my way.  

James got his gear together as well as some stuff for Alex.  He crept into Drew’s room, his boy still sleeping peacefully.  “I love you Chief,” he whispered.  He slipped Alex’s necklace over his head.  “You take care of this for me and Mommy, ok?”  He kissed his head and walked out.  Nat showed.  “The documents you might need are in the safe in our closet.  Combo is 03-10-19-17.  We left some stuff for Drew when he’s older.”  

“Bucky…” 

“I’m gonna do everything I can to bring us home but just in case.  Please take care of our boy.”  

Nate hugged James hard.  “Be safe.”  

Stark knocked on the open door frame.  “Ready?” 

“Ready.”  

The sun hadn’t risen yet when Alex was awakened by the door opening.  She held still. “Pet?” Alex reached slowly under the pillow for her toothbrush and gripped it tight. When she sensed him close, she swung, the sharp point she created cutting the skin on his arm.  “Fuck!” 

Alex rose and swung her leg around, dropping him as he gripped his forearm to stop the bleeding.  She ran to the door and down the stairs.  She could see the front door but was grabbed around the middle.  “Let me go!” 

“I see Kitty did have her claws,” Walker said in her ear as he adjusted his grip.  “And now I get to play with the Kitty.”  

Alex paled as she was held in place by Walker as Christian walked down the stairs, a towel on his arm.  “Let’s get her to the garage.  I don’t want to make a mess in the house.” Walker pulled her out and marched her to the back of the property.  

Steve and Nate were there in the shadows, waiting for the backup promised to Steve.  It was getting close to dawn when Steve heard the cries of his best friend.  He watched as Alex was dragged into the garage. “Shit. We have to get in there.” Steve and Nate both moved to pull their weapons.  

A gun cocking behind them caused them to freeze.  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Steve didn’t have time to turn before the butt of the gun hit his head and he was knocked out.  

NEXT

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

@bunnyforhim

@alexakeyloveloki

@sunnyhummingbee

@peaceinourtime82

@lokislady82

@saucy-sassy-sparkly

@kmc1989

@kandis-mom

[i-is-surrounded-by-idjits]

I love the GoT series, especially for its historical accuracies (I could talk about them for daaaaaays), but I get really annoyed with the age gap debate with ships without taking into account the historical setting (especially Sansa Stark and Sandor Clegane). this has annoyed me to the point where I am writing a book to address the social construct just to tear it down.

In the past noble girls were married early. Not usually as soon as they had their first period (although legal), this was usually delayed until 16-18 years due to negotiations (it was a trade deal). However, most nobles would be married before they turned 20, unless they were undesirable for some reason (this could be appearance, family scandal, illness, physical health, disability, or personality), and they would quickly become known as spinsters - we think of spinsters being unmarried woman past middle age, but in the past, this could be used for an unmarried 25 y/o. Reminder that 'paedophile' refers to the attraction of prepubescent children (by UK law this is under 13).

Women married early for biological reasons; they have a short fertility period (while some men can keep fathering sons for decades; think Walder Frey). From first blood to menopause, a woman had to be married off as quickly as possible to ensure they had the best chance of providing as many children as possible. Menopause is currently between 45-50 yrs (with some biological variation), but in the past, this could be as early as 35 - unclear due to natural variation, but health and hygiene contribute to fertile health and the decline would be noted as the end for many noble women.

Men sometimes married later, usually for education, status, or military reasons. So one could expect a man not to marry until in their 20s (of higher social standing). Commoners skew the statistics, as they would marry at any age, and usually more love-matches (no need for social staus debates and political marriages), however, common men would be expected to have a job in order to provide for a wife and family, and so would sometimes be older, but the

If a man needed a wife, say windowed at 30. Guess what, they'd start at the beginning looking for a teenager. There was no point marrying an older woman (if there were any that were unmarried, that is). Widows were often off the cards if they had children as they would still belong to their dead spouse's family, and the social 'undesirables' would still be undesired by a man seeking their second or third wife. For example, Æthelred the Unready first married Ælfgifu - she was 4 years younger and perfectly normal. She died aged 32. His second wife Emma, was 18 years younger (aged 18 at the time) - a much larger age gap and unseemly by modern standards, but Æthelred would not have married a woman in her 30s whose fertility could decline shortly after marriage simply to marry someone closer to his own age.

Childhood and teenagers are relatively new terms. In the past, they were better defined as prepubescent and of marital age (postpubescent). Meaning you were considered almost adult once you could reproduce. To view historical fiction by modern standards, laws, and norms, is a mistake. One should understand the history to better understand the subject material and fictional writings it has inspired.

The best way to understand this is to understand why marriage was invented: to produce legitimate heirs. This is why infidelity was viewed differently for men and women - a man is unfaithful, it is a distraction and a sin, but bastards have no claim. A woman is unfaithful, this brings into question the legitimacy of her existing children, and she has wasted almost a year providing someone else a child. Not such a big deal now, but childbirth was also dangerous; they could literally die due to an affair... even before the husband found out about it. Therefore, ensuring the bride had enough time to produce children was essential. Bear in mind that during the Middle Ages, one could get an annulment for infertility in many countries (and still can) - as this is a breach of the marriage contract.

P.S. - This is historical thinking. I am pro same-sex marriage and believe this should have been legalised when marriage changed the definition to a declaration of love (circa 18th century)... but that's a religious debate for another time.

Back to the topic; Sansa Stark would not see age as an issue really. Although she hoped for a love match (and thus naturally inclined to someone near her own age), socially, she would see nothing wrong with Sandor Clegane based on age. Clegane would have had issues with any attraction until she reached 'adulthood' (before her first period) as this would have been considered immoral, however, once deemed an adult, this no longer poses an issue legally. Lysa was 21 years younger than Jon when they married - she protested this based on age, but realistically she only protested as she had hoped to marry Petyr.

[magadauthan]

Ep 24: Sin

@trigun98watchparty Knives emerges from his Plant bulb and begins his endgame. It's unclear to me whether it took him that long to recover fully from the beating he took in July, or whether he just prefers hanging out in his light socket when he's not ranting at Legato about causing Vash eternal pain.

(gonna try to get two of these done today so I don't miss the Ep 25 party haha)

--Legato rides in NML's version of a Cinderella coach, are you fucking kidding me, you blue-haired drama queen

--Chapel might be a GHG, but being forced to shoot his star pupil in the back is a bridge too far. Kudos to him for getting a dig in at Knives before he's obliterated.

--Meanwhile, Midvalley is wondering what he's done with his life; all he wanted to do was play sax and now he's signed his life away to a homicidal, psychotic blond guy with terrible fashion sense.

--Vash is trying. He's trying so damn hard, and his usual tricks aren't working. Life goes on around him, with ordinary people enjoying their ordinary lives, which is everything he ever wanted, and instead he's alone again with his best friend dead and his brother's henchmen dogging him at every turn.

--Meryl asked, and for his own reasons, Vash told her. He thought she'd finally give up and let him go, and then she and Milly would be safe. He'd rather her be alive in the world without him than put at risk by being with him. He couldn't protect WW, who was armed and dangerous and more than capable of handling himself. Little Meryl, with her little derringers, doesn't have a chance.

--And Vash tells her everything. Having all those scenes from his childhood in the montage leads me to believe that he's not mincing words to her about what he is and where he came from. Maybe, in a roundabout way, it was a challenge - would you, could you still accept me, knowing what I am? (Yes.)

--Milly needs Meryl. Milly pushes back, out of enormous love for her senpai, for WW, and for Vash. The time is coming, and soon, where Vash is going to need someone who loves him for who he is, no matter what he is. Milly is grieving terribly, but she knows that with WW dead and gone for the crime of believing in Vash, Vash is in a worse place than ever. It's come to do or die for Vash, and he's becoming inclined towards the latter option.

--The fight with Midvalley is... kinda boring. It doesn't add a whole lot to the story except another mini-boss. Again, Orange, if you use him, please do something memorable with the big pimpin' jazz guy besides having him soliloquize.

--You do get a feeling that Midvalley isn't doing this because he wants to. He signed on for the health benefits because the jazz club wasn't paying enough, and now he's embroiled in a fight to the death with Vash the Stampede. (the "oh, shit" face he makes when meeting Knives says to me that he didn't think Knives was ever going to show up for reals.) Sucks, dude.

--No matter how much Vash pleads, it's not going to make a difference to a nihilist like Legato. Vash can hold a gun at him - Legato knows he's bluffing. Vash can try to appeal to Legato's humanity - but Knives has been in there messing around with his psyche so much that Legato genuinely hates his own humanity.

--One bullet. One shot, and it all stops, and all it took was for Legato to massacre thousands of innocents, kill Vash's best friend, threaten the girls, and insult Vash's mother to his face.

--It's a lie, of course. Knives isn't done. Knives will never be done.

[bumblebeerror]

It’s been on my mind today but I need you to know.

Hitting 25 has been one of the best things to ever happen to me.

I don’t say this lightly - I lost my father who I loved dearly at age 18, I grew up a bit above the poverty line and now only *just* live above it. I’ve been treated for severe mental illness and learning disabilities since I was a child, starting at 6 years old. I have a physical disability and chronic pain. I have had some bad fuckin times, I’ve been through my share, and I’ll go through more I’m sure.

But I can tell you I feel so much better mentally at age 25, unable to stand for more than an hour or so without severe pain, on a consistent schedule of prescribed pain pills, discovering just how hard I was masking some pretty serious autism, struggling with my ADHD meds being less effective, and only leaving the house three total times a week because I’m immunocompromised than I was at age 13 when “all my problems were school”.

Because at age 10, nobody close to me had ever died before. At age 11, I had never lived in a new place before. At age 12, I had never felt so cold and empty and tired. I’d never endured my peers teasing me for crying about a death in my family. At age 13 I had never felt like I wanted to die before then, like the world was on fire, like it was ending. At age 14 I hadn’t known what it felt like to have period cramps so bad my mother sent me to school with a muscle relaxer and still had to pick me up by lunch, to have this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach that being a girl was a lie and I was a liar. At age 15 I’d never had people remind me so viciously that I wasn’t like them, I’d never felt so throughly upset by the idea of one more person calling me she. At age 16 I’d never had my heart broken before, I’d never dealt with a friend turning on me completely. At age 17, I’d never had my family feel so broken. At age 18, I’d been petrified of the idea of my father dying, and he did. At age 19, I’d never actually thought about how I would kill myself before. At 20, I’d never gotten drunk before. At 21, I’d never gone inside a bar.

You get the picture.

Your teen years suck because you’ve never done so much shit, and on top of the terrifying experience of doing it all for the first time, you also have all your peers picking at you for doing it wrong the first time. Your teen years suck because they are chaotic and new and stressful and you don’t know how to handle them yet. You’re not supposed to know yet.

Hitting 25 was the realization that I wasn’t going to just up and die, that now I have to actually plan. I have to do taxes, and that I actually know how to. That I have to care for my pets and I know how to. That I have to drive to work and do my job and I know how to.

25 was what made me realize that I had things I was supposed to be around for. People and pets who relied on me, who loved me and needed me and wanted me.

That I can have a panic attack and know that I’m having one. That something can piss me off and I know I can take a moment before I respond. The awareness that I do not have to do everything for the first time all the time anymore, that I know stuff, that I’ve been around the block and can use those tools is INVALUABLE. The fact that I can look at my intrusive thoughts and, if I truly wanted to, CHOOSE to indulge them? That I can sit here and be the cat that doesn’t wish to go to the vet and the concerned cat owner?

It changes everything.

It was the realization that I am the one punishing myself. That I can and should respect myself as a person because it means I can respect more deeply the care that other people have for me. It sounds so stupid when I explain it but it’s absolutely a whole different ball game.

The fact that I think the only thing that could severely tank my mental health is if I were to become homeless in winter or actively abused or something similar should speak volumes to you what I mean when I say that not having to do everything for the first time all the time is a huge mental weight off you.

I promise. It will feel better when you are 25. I promise that even if it isn’t fixed, it will be easier. And if I’m wrong when you hit 25, you can come yell at me about it. Probably I’ll still be here.

[shaunabah]

The warmth is overwhelming (my body burns almost as if they're cremating it)

It's very hot in the VALORANT HQ, specially in summer. See, this can be a problem to agents who are used to the cold, like Sova or Breach, but that's why there's a rule that says that you can indeed go around shirtless and with short pants.

No agent is allowed to have their personal AC, they only have one on their common room. For bedrooms they use fans, but an AC has never been given to anyone, not even Brimstone.

Now here comes the problem. Phoenix's body tends to be hot, like burning hot, but in summer it gets worse. Between his own body heat and the outside heat he literally feels like dying, and that makes even Viper have some sympathy for the guy.

Brimstone's already recieved complains from Phoenix, Jett and Viper herself about this. "Let that kid have a goddamn AC," she said, "I don't want to find him sleeping in the fridge again, I nearly had a heart attack that time."

They also have rules for the common room's AC. One of the rule used to be that there had to be more than three agents in the room to use it, but it was later modified to that plus not being usable in the night, because Phoenix managed to convince Jett and Sova to go sleep there so he could get colder. The other rule is that the AC must be 77°F (25°C) at minimum, and 82.4°F (28°C) at maximum.

Today is different, as it is around 122°F (50°C) outside and everyone is worried about their fire boy, mostly because he looks both tired and about to melt from the heat.

"You really need to get something cold, mate, not even the common room AC is helping." Skye says, handing him a handful of ice and cringing when it almost immediately melts in his hand.

Phoenix has only the shortest pants known to man on, and he's still sweating even under the AC. Skye, who's also wearing short pants but has a sports bra on, is trying to help him get a bit colder, but everything she's tried hasn't worked.

"What's going on?" Killjoy asks when she gets in the room, looking at the two of them almost as if they were crazy.

"I'm trying to help Phoenix cool down! I've tried everything!!" The other woman says with desperation in her voice, "I've tried handing him ice, it melts. I've tried feeding him ice, it doesn't melt but doesn't work either. I've tried sticking cold stuff in his body, doesn't work. We've tried Harbor's waves, they don't work either. He's under the AC. We're considering removing everything from the fridge and getting him in there again."

"Why can't you put the AC colder?" Killjoy asks, then looks at the AC controller, "Oh wait, it's at the minimum, right?" She asks, to which Phoenix can only nod.

"That rule is stupid." Reyna says as she steps in the room, "You're going to die if we keep it like this, necesitamos hablar con Brimstone!" She exclaims, looking at Phoenix with full pity in her eyes.

"I'll talk with him," Sage says, already heading to Brimstone's office, "he is in no condition of doing anything, not even existing at this point." Before she gets out the room, she hears Skye scream and quickly turns around. Phoenix has passed out from the heat.

"I've already told you, we can't do that." Brimstone states, looking at the three women before him, "If we give it to him, the rest are going to ask for one."

"It's not like they're little kids, Brim," Reyna says, looking at him at the eyes almost as if he was her pray, "I'm pretty sure they'll understand."

"We can't have him do anything in this condition, do you understand how dangerous that is for a human being?" Sage asks, then continues before giving the man time to answer, "It's so critical, I don't doubt he could die because of it at this point."

"Okay, okay, fine," Brimstone says, standing up, "I'll talk with-"

"No, Brimstone, you'll get him the fucking AC because he can't even speak." Viper says, looking at him with dangerous eyes, "Then after that maybe you can speak with him. A body temperature that melts ice cubes as soon as they get close - not even in conact - is more dangerous than you think."

"Alright, then," He says, "but with one condition. You three need to help me choose which AC to take." They all nod and start searching online.

Sova is the first one to notice the giant box on the door of the HQ, left there by the delivery man, probably. He looks at it before calling Brimstone and confirming that it isn't a bomb, then he takes it inside. Sage tells him what it is, and Sova takes it to Phoenix's room, which is currently empty.

After calling Cypher and having Brimstone supervising they both assemble the AC in an hour and a half, then put it in 44.6°F (7°C) and staying in the room until Cypher can't handle the cold. Then they call Phoenix.

He looks like absolute shit, there's no other way to put it. He's sweating, has dark eyebags from not sleeping because of the heat, his hair isn't brushed, and he's leaving burnt marks wherever he steps. Yoru is with him, he was told of this before so he could distract him. Yoru also looks miserable, his hair down and unable to stay up, also has eyebags.

Around a minute after Phoenix steps into the room his eyes widen, looking around for a moment. "Are you feeling this or am I dying?!" He asks, turning to see Yoru, "Dude, it's so cold I might have to put a shirt on!" He jokingly says, smiling wide and looking excited. "Hold on what's happening? Why is it so cold here?"

Yoru smiles at his confusion, then points at the AC set up on a wall. "Brimstone bought this for you, you would've died otherwise." He says, looking at their boss. Phoenix looks at him and smiles widely. Then he stops.

"Wait. You're saying I have my own AC?! For my room?! That I can put in any temperature?!" He asks and Brimstone nods "Ohmygodohmygod finally!!" He exclaims, practically jumping up and down. "Thank you so much, Brimstone!" He smiles even wider (somehow).

"You shouldn't thank me, I only bought it. You should thank Viper, Reyna, Sage, Sova and Cypher instead." He says, smiling. Phoenix doesn't get it but nods anyways, walking around his room.

After two more minutes Brimstone gets out of the room, leaving the other two alone.

"Dude we can finally kiss!" Phoenix says before jumping on his boyfriend and giving him a kiss. They stay hugging for some minutes before Phoenix breaks the hug. "Okay I've gotta tell this to everyone they're going to be sooooo jealous" He says as he brings out his phone.

Yoru smiles, "You're breaking our romantic moment to brag about this? Wow, what a boyfriend." Then he starts laughing when he sees Phoenix's defeated face.

[O chefinho tem uma bunda tremenda] (The boss has a tremendous ass)

Phoenix [16:39PM]: Y'ALL GUESS WHAT

[queer-irritator]

An Unexpected Padawan | Obi-wan x GN! Reader

!MINORS DNI!

A/N: This is my first obi-wan fic and I sorta mashed a lot of the ideas I had into one super long story (you've been warned). I'm just down so bad for this man. It's a slow burn, but worth it in the end 😉

I also did not proof read any of this. I just finished writing it at 2am, the endings kinda rushed but I might make a little sequel in the future.

CW: Violence, assault, strong language, alcohol, smut, unprotected piv, oral, afab anatomy described

Word count: 7.8k

(Set during the clone wars)

You always felt different than everyone around you. Everyone told you it was just part of growing up, teenage hormones. But only it never went away. In fact, it got worse. The older you got, the harder it became to control your feelings and emotions. You were celebrating your 25th birthday in your favorite club when everything escalated. 

“25! You finally got that fully developed brain everyone’s always talking about!” Your friend playfully elbowed you and handed you a shot glass. 

“Yup, guess this is the brain I’m stuck with now!” You chuckled, clinking your glasses together then swallowing your drink in one gulp.

“Woah, did I hear there’s a birthday over here?” a man approached you and placed his hand on your lower back.

A chill shot up your spine as you recoiled from the strangers touch and moved away. You looked over the man, he was visibly drunk and could barely stand upright. 

“Uhm, I don’t know anything about a birthday, man.” You lied, hoping he would leave you alone. 

“Ah, I know what I heard! Lemme buy you a drink, sweet cheeks.” He persisted. 

“C’mon, they’re obviously not interested. Just let us enjoy our night.” Your friend chimed in. 

The man sighed and dramatically rolled his eyes, “No one fuckin’ asked you, bitch.”

A twinge of anger coursed through your veins and you balled one hand up into a fist.

“Don’t talk to her like that.” You warned the scumbag. 

“Or what?” He prodded, crossing his arms over his chest and giving you a smirk.

Your jaw clenched and your fist tightened, you didn’t want to cause a scene, but this guy was going to get what was coming to him. Before you could open your mouth to tell him off the man gasped for air and began choking. 

This brought some slight amusement to you, seeing as karma had taken care of this jerk before you could. But when his hands grasped at his throat and his lips were turning blue, your anger turned to concern. You unclenched your fist as worry overcame your thoughts, but just as suddenly as it began, his fit ended. He collapsed to the floor, tears welling in his eyes and face red as he desperately tried to catch his breath. 

You crouched down by him, “Are you okay? Do you need some water??” Sure, the guy was an asshole but he didn’t deserve to die for being a drunken idiot. 

“Get away from me!” He yelled, backing up from you, “What the fuck did you do to me?!” 

“I… you were choking, I didn’t do anything!” You defended yourself. 

The man scrambled to his feet and mumbled something about a jedi before bolting out of the club. 

“Serves you right, asshole!” Your friend called after the man. 

You stood up and glanced around, noticing all eyes were on you. Your gaze awkwardly darted across the room and it landed on a stranger. The stranger looked away from your gaze immediately and hurried to leave the establishment. 

You sighed and ordered another drink, trying to put whatever just happened to the back of your mind, “Some birthday, huh?” 

-

The next morning you awoke to loud knocking at your door. With sleepy eyes and a pounding headache, you reluctantly got up from your bed and dragged yourself to the door. When you opened to door to your small apartment, you were greeted by the stranger you had briefly made eye contact last night. 

“Can I help you?” You squinted as sunlight from behind the figure glared into your vision. 

“Yes, I am here on behalf of the Jedi Council. My name is Plo Koon.”

You straightened your posture and perked up, “Oh, hello sir! What brings you here?” 

“You. I have reasonable suspicion that you may be force-sensitive and have been overlooked when you were a child.” Plo Koon explained. 

“Me? Are you sure you have the right person?” 

Plo Kloon recited your full name, your parents names, and your home planet.

“Wow.. uhm, so what does this mean?” You didn’t know if this was some weird hangover dream you can’t wake up from. 

“We would like to take a blood sample, and if my suspicion is correct, come to meet the Jedi Council on Coruscant.” he explained.

“Wow.” You repeated yourself, “Well, I guess a blood test wouldn’t hurt… Please, come in.” 

You stepped aside to let the Jedi in. You watched as he set down a small machine and set up some supplies. You’ve never encountered a Jedi before, but from what you heard they were incredibly serious and strict.

“It will just be a poke on the tip of your finger.” Master Plo Koon approached you. 

You nodded and held out your hand for him. He gently took your hand and pricked your finger, collecting a drop of blood on the machine he held. 

“It will just take a moment to get the results.” He assured you, sending a message over his comlink. 

You wiped your finger clean and went to your small dinette to get a cup of caf to try and wake you up some more. 

You invited Master Plo Koon to sit on the couch with you and offered him a cup of caf he gladly accepted. You made small talk for a few minutes before a message came over Plo Koon’s comlink. 

“The sample you’ve sent contains midi-chlorians consistent with those who are force sensitive.”

“Thank you.” The Jedi spoke into his comlink then looked to you, “Would you come to meet the council?”

“Right now?” You got a sudden wave of anxiety. Is your whole life about to get uprooted because some idiot decided to harass you in the bar last night?

“Yes. You are already 20 years late.” The jedi joked. 

You chuckled, “Okay… just give me an hour to get ready, please. You’re welcome to wait here.” 

You stood up and headed to your bathroom to take a shower and prepare for this adventure. 

-

It took the entire day to arrive at Coruscant, but the cushy Jedi accommodations helped the long journey. Master Plo Koon led you to modest sleeping quarters and bid you goodnight. 

You took a moment to take in your surroundings. The room was decently sized, but was too industrial for your liking. Plopping your bag on the bed, you dug around for your nightwear and got ready for bed. You could only assume it would be a long day tomorrow. 

-

“Rise and shine.” A robotic voice jolted you awake. 

“Uhm, hello…” You warily greeted the droid that barged into your room.

“I am BNI-393, but you can call me Bunny.” The droid explained as she set down a bowl of food for you, “In 15 minutes Master Plo Koon will escort you to meet the Jedi Council.”

You nodded as you sat up, rubbing your eyes. “Thank you, Bunny.” you said, starting to eat your breakfast.

You enjoyed a comfortable silence as you finished eating and got dressed for the day. A knock at your door signaled it was time to go. 

You opened the door and greeted the Jedi with a smile, “Good morning.” 

“Good morning, (y/n).” He reciprocated. 

Plo Kloon guided you through the Jedi Temple. It was much larger than you could have imagined. He pointed out different rooms and wings of the temple as you made your way. He led you through a large door and you entered a circular room with the members of the Jedi Council sitting in chairs arranged in a circle. Most were there in person, only a few holograms. You looked around the room, starting to feel quite intimidated. Trying to calm yourself, you took a deep breath.

Master Plo Koon began to address the Council, “I am here before you with (y/n), someone who I believe was unfortunately overlooked as being a force-sensitive child. They display impressive strength for never having knowledge or training in the ways of the force.” 

A hologram popped up with your midi-chlorian readings.

“Just two days ago I personally witnessed a display of (y/n)’s strength.” 

The hologram switched to a video of the events that unfolded on your birthday.

“I believe this was not done intentionally. However, without proper training and guidance I suspect (y/n) will unknowingly cause harm. Or worse, the Separatists will get to them.” The Jedi concluded. 

Your attention was redirected from Plo Koon when a voice spoke up, “Aware of your actions, were you?”

You turned toward a small green man, “No, I didn’t know I was hurting that man. I didn’t mean to.” 

“Hmm. Confusion and isolation, I sense in you.” he continued.

You nodded slowly, “I… I always felt different than everyone else. But I had no clue it was because of something like this. Can you help me?” 

“They are much too old to begin Jedi training.” One man noted

“Yes, but what choice do we have? They’re obviously powerful, without training who knows what could happen.” A younger man with a scar across his right eye chimed in. 

“I have to agree with Anakin.” A slightly older man with light brown hair and a full beard said. 

“(y/n)’s choice, it must be.” The green man said, “Use them for our own gain or out of fear, we cannot.”

All eyes were on you, waiting for an answer. “Yes, I would like to be trained.” You needed to know how to control your emotions. 

“Join the younglings, you will.” He stated, “Advance quickly, I suspect you will.” 

You smiled and nodded, “Yes, sir.”

-

The next few months were filled with studying, learning everything about the Jedi code, the force, your brain was jammed so full of knowledge, you didn’t know if you could physically read another sentence. 

You were in the library, head face down on the desk with five different books open in front of you. You needed a break. 

“Studying hard I see.” 

The sudden voice filling the silence made you jump, you looked up and a smile spread across your face. 

“I’m trying to, Master Kenobi.” you admitted sheepishly.

You two always seemed to bump into each other, and it didn’t help that you’ve become fast friends with Anakin. At first Obi-wan had seemed very stoic, all business. But once you started to talk to Anakin and he told you stories when he was Obi-wan’s padawan, you started to see his cool demeanor was a front. You only caught glimpses of the real Obi-wan, when you walked into a room where he was alone or with Anakin and he was able to take a break from being a General. The moment he noticed you he would straighten up and play the part of a typical Jedi Master. To be honest, you’ve become infatuated with cracking him. 

“Well, I’m not sure sleeping in the library is going to help you.” He poked fun at you.

You playfully scoffed at him, “I was not sleeping, I was just… taking a break.” You defended yourself. 

“Ah, well would you like to take a break outside with me?” Obi-wan offered. 

You nodded, closed your books and followed him to a balcony nearby. It was a few hours past mid-day, the usual hustle and bustle of the planet could be observed in the distance. 

“The council has noticed how hard you’ve been working.” Obi-wan spoke, looking out to the horizon. “That’s good.” You shifted your gaze to the man beside you. Since you first saw him in the council room, you thought he was absolutely gorgeous. So far you’ve been able to ignore your feelings by drowning yourself in training. 

“Yes, it’s so good in fact,” he turned to face you, “that they have appointed you to be my padawan.” 

You couldn’t stop your jaw from dropping open and your eyes widening, “Are you serious??” Obi-wan let out a chuckle, “Very serious, my young apprentice.” 

A huge smile spread across your face and you enveloped your new Master in a tight hug. 

“O-oh my.” Obi-wan was caught off guard by your actions, but he placed a hand on your back. 

You released him from your death grip and beamed up at Obi-wan, “So, Master. What will my first lesson be?” 

“I was thinking sparring.” Obi-wan lifted his hand to his chin.

“You’re on.” you smirked and walked to the training room, matching your stride with Obi-wan’s. 

-

After giving you his spiel about how your lightsaber is like your life and how important it is, the real training began. 

“Show me what you’ve learned.” Obi-wan held up his lightsaber in a defensive stance. 

You nodded and activated your lightsaber. After taking a few deep breaths to regulate your emotions and excitement, you began your sparring match. 

Obi-wan was expertly blocking each of your strikes, giving you tips or praise depending on how you were doing. Before long, you were out of breath and starting to sweat. Meanwhile, Obi-wan still looked utterly perfect. 

You took a break and were taking a long sip of water. Your chest heavily moved up and down and a few droplets of water were dripping down your neck. You could feel a pair of eyes on you, so you opened your own to catch Obi-wan staring. You swore you saw some light pink sprinkled on his cheeks before he turned his head away. 

He cleared his throat before speaking, “We need to work on your stamina.” 

You almost choked on your last drink of water from his words. They caused some very inappropriate images to come to your mind of different ways Obi-wan could “help your stamina”. 

“How do we do that?” You asked once you regained your composure. 

“More practice. It will increase in time.” He turned to face you again, “But for now, you’re doing well.” 

“Thank you, Master. How about we celebrate tonight?” You proposed. “Oh, I don’t know…” Obi-wan got the feeling he would need to enforce strict Master-Padawan boundaries with you. 

“Come on, I know you’ve had a padawan before, but this is my first time having a Master!” You protested. 

You could see the hesitance on your Master’s face. 

“...Please, Obi-wan?” You walked closer to him and gave him your best pout and pleading eyes. He reluctantly met your gaze, and after thinking for a moment he gave in, “Fine.” 

You smiled at him, “Great! I’ll go get ready!” you said as you ran off to your room to shower. -

Later that day, you had cleaned up and gotten ready in your best clothes and were currently sitting in a speeder, waiting for Obi-wan. You’d sent him a message telling him where to meet you. 

Obi-wan approached you, “Does Anakin know you’re using his speeder?”

“Uhm…yeah, of course. I wouldn’t use a Jedi’s vehicle without their permission.” You tried your best to seem convincing. Obi-wan raised an eyebrow at you, but got into the speeder anyway. 

You looked him up and down a few times and let a small “Hmm” escape your lips. 

“What?” Obi-wan questioned you as you began flying. 

“Nothing.” You tried to assure him, trying to focus on your flying skills. Anakin had only given you three lessons so far. 

“It must have been something.” He pressed. 

“No, it’s just…” You trailed off, chewing on your lip.

“Just what?” Obi-wan was beginning to sound inpatient and childish.

You chuckled at his serious Jedi Master facade cracking, “I just had a feeling that’s what you’d wear.” You finally admitted. 

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” His defensiveness was honestly adorable.

“Nothing’s wrong with them! I guess I just couldn’t picture you in anything else but your Jedi robe.” 

Obi-wan huffed softly and crossed his arms. You glanced over at him. 

“I didn’t know you thought so highly of my opinion, Master.” You teased. 

He sighed, “You’ve been spending too much time with Anakin.”

Once you parked and hopped out of the speeder, Obi-wan was able to get a good look at you. You wore tight-fitting pants that clung to your body nicely and a slightly cropped shirt with fishnets underneath it. Obi-wan watched your ass as you walked in front of him. He noticed something very important missing from you. 

He stopped you in front of the bar you were about to enter, “Where is your lightsaber?” 

You gave him a confused look, “Uhm.. hidden.” You pointed to the boots you were wearing. 

You were about to question why he was looking for your lightsaber when he interrupted you.

“Oh, good. You should always be prepared.” Obi wan opened the door for you. 

You decided to let it go and walked right up to the bar and ordered a few drinks. Obi-wan strolled up next to you.

“Quite a lively crowd tonight.” he commented. 

“Tonight? You come here often, Master?” You leaned against the bar and looked at him with a sultry smile. 

“No, I just-” He began to defend himself but was cut off by the drinks being served. 

“My stars, how many drinks did you order?” He questioned, seeing the line of cups grow.

“A normal amount, calm down.” You assured him, dividing up the drinks between the two of you. You each had two shots and a mixed drink. 

You handed him the first shot, “To Masters.” You clinked your glass with Obi-wan’s and swallowed the liquid and Obi-wan followed your lead. 

“To Padawans.” You followed the same ritual with the next shot. 

“And, to us.” You raised the mixed drink.

“To us.” Obi-wan repeated before clinking your glass one last time and taking a long sip of the drink. 

A band came on a small stage at the farside of the bar and began playing some music. “Ooh, come on!” You started to walk towards the band. 

Obi-wan followed behind you reluctantly, downing his drink on the walk over. Seemingly out of thin air, you handed him another shot and drink and started to sway to the music. 

After downing his shot Obi-wan shook his head, “I drink, but I don’t dance.” 

“Come onnnn.” You urged him, taking his hands and swaying them to the beat. “No, no, really. You don’t want to see me dance.” He continued to protest

You began to move your hips to the beat as well. You were looking at him but his eyes were fixated to your body’s movements.

You stepped a little closer to him, “I do. Show me your moves, Master.” 

This time Obi-wan couldn’t turn away to hide the blush creeping onto his cheeks. He silently scolded himself for letting his emotions overtake him for a moment. Instead of taking the chance on saying something that would make a fool out of himself, he reluctantly began to sway to the music, avoiding eye contact with you. 

Your smile grew and you chuckled, “There you go!” You encouraged him as you finally let go of his hands now that he was getting in the groove of things. 

As the song continued on and the drinks were starting to take effect, Obi-wan seemed to let his guard down some more. He took your hand and gave you a twirl. You gladly followed his lead and began to dance with him, not just next to him. 

With the music getting louder, he had to dip his head down next to your ear so you could hear him when he spoke, “ You’re a great dancer.” 

You laughed in response, looking up at Obi-wan’s face, seeing his smile and the way the corners of his eye crinkled, you realized he was being genuine. 

It was your turn to lean upwards to talk in Obi-wan’s ear, he lowered his head slightly to help you, “You must be drunk if you think that.” 

He echoed your chuckle from just moments ago, “It’ll take more than that to get me drunk, young padawan.” 

You smirked, “Good to know!”

The two of you spent the next few hours cycling between dancing to your favorite songs and sitting at the bar. You could definitely feel the full effects of the drinks you’ve been consuming now and Obi-wan had a light flush on his face, but was still acting somewhat put-together. 

“I don’t think either of us can drive back to the temple.” You confessed to your Master. 

“Yes, I believe you’re right.” He agreed. “We could always call a cab.” 

You shook your head, “Nu-uh, no way am I leaving Anakin’s speeder outside a bar all night. He doesn’t even know I took it!”

“You told me earlier he let you borrow it.” Obi-wan raised an eyebrow at you. 

You giggled slightly, “I lied.” 

“Well, there’s a hotel just down the street. We could stay there for tonight.” 

“That sounds good.” You were glad he was more observant than you had been, “I’m getting pretty tired anyways.” 

“Let us go then.” Obi-wan stood up and offered his elbow to you. 

You took it happily and followed him outside, where it was much quieter. You walked the block to the hotel in a comfortable silence. Mostly, you were trying to focus on not stumbling and leading on just how much the drinks had affected you. 

Obi-wan checked into the hotel and got a room for the night, he was also kind enough pay extra for a droid to pick up the speeder and bring it to the hotel. The moment you walked into your room you collapsed on the bed. You swore you heard a chuckle coming from Obi-wan, but when you lifted your head towards him he was locking the door. You decided to let it go and sat up. The entire room was spinning but you managed to pull off your boots without falling over. It wasn’t until you noticed Obi-wan laying an extra blanket he had fetched from the closet on the floor that there was only one bed in the room. 

“You’re sleeping down there?” You questioned him. 

He stopped in the middle of smoothing out the blanket to tilt his head to meet your eyes. He stood up straight from his previously bent over position.

“Yes, I figured this would be the most… appropriate.” He took a moment to find the right word to describe the current situation. 

“You’re gonna throw out your back if you sleep on this floor, Obi.” Your words were starting to slur slightly, but you hoped he wouldn’t notice. 

But he did. He also noticed the new nickname you’ve appointed him. 

Before he could start to protest, you continued, “Get comfy and come up here. This bed is huge anyway.” You scooted over to one side of the bed and started to undo your pants.

Obi-wan snapped his head away from you and he felt his cheeks warming up, “W-What are you doing??” He put a hand up to further shield his eyes. 

“Gettin’ comfy. I can’t sleep with these tight-ass pants on.” You explained as you lifted your butt off the bed and slowly peeled the pants off of your body, tossing them on the floor next to you then getting under the covers. 

He let out a deep sigh, more so to calm his energy than anything else. “Are you finished?” He questioned, not daring to look over to you. “Yes sir.” You answered him sarcastically. 

Obi-wan cautiously let his hand down and glanced over at you. Seeing you tucked in under the covers was… underwhelming. He would never admit it, not even to himself, but deep down he was hoping to see you spread out half-naked on the bed, waiting for him. However, he did tell himself that you were right about the effects of sleeping on the floor. It would be irresponsible to knowingly cause his body more strain. 

You watched Obi-wan as he stood quietly for a minute before he took off his boots and picked up the blanket he had previously spread out on the floor. He turned off the light in the room and made his way over to the opposite side of the bed and sat down on the edge. 

You could make out the silhouette of his back as your eyes were adjusting to the newfound darkness. He took a few minutes before swinging his legs onto the bed and laying down stiffly. He kept himself as close to the edge of the bed as possible. It was almost comical how large of a gap there was between the both of you. 

Too tired to argue with him further, and not wanting to push his boundaries you closed your eyes. 

“Goodnight, Obi.” you muttered as sleep overtook you. 

“Goodnight, (y/n).” 

After a while of laying in silence, Obi-wan turned his head towards you. Your mouth was parted slightly and your chest was slowly rising and falling with each breath you took. It had been so long since he last shared a bed with someone. The war had taken up every waking moment of his time and attention, he rarely even talked about anything that didn’t relate to it somehow. He would need to answer a barrage of questions when he got back to the temple about where you two were tonight, but it would be worth it. His eyes were starting to feel heavy.

Obi-wan could have sworn he’d only shut his eyes for a few minutes, but when he woke up there was light pouring into the room. 

He sat up quickly and turned on a news hologram to check the time. It was already midday. 

“Oh no…” He mumbled to himself. He was going to get hell from Anakin for being out all night and half the day.

“(Y/n), we have to get going.” Obi-wan said as he turned to you. His cheeks immediately turned pink when he saw the state you were in. 

You had kicked the sheets half off of you in the middle of the night and were laying on your stomach with one leg bent, putting your ass on full-view. To seal the deal, you had worn quite revealing underwear due to your choice in pants the night before. 

Obi-wan felt his blood rush to his crotch as he stared at your ass. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to regain control of his body. It took a few minutes, but eventually he was once again in charge of his body and thoughts. You were his padawan, an apprentice. Nothing else. His job was to teach and train you to harness the force and the power you possess. Jedi cannot form attachments. Especially not to their padawans.

He carefully draped the sheets over your lower half and placed a hand on your shoulder, “(Y/n). It is time to wake up.”

You groaned and buried your face further in the pillow. “Come on, it’s already midday and I’ve missed two meetings this morning.” He removed his hand from your shoulder and got his boots on. 

“I feel like shit.” You didn’t bother to lift your head from the pillow.

Obi-wan could barely make out what your muffled voice, “And whose fault is that?” 

He grabbed your shoes and picked up your pants from the floor and sat them on the edge of the bed. 

“I’m going to get the speeder, please be ready when I come back.” He said before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. 

You groaned louder and reluctantly rolled over and got up and dressed. After you washed your face and gotten a cup of caf from the hotel lobby, you walked outside. Squinting as the sun’s rays violated your pupils, you saw your Master pull up in the speeder. You climbed in the passenger seat and took a long sip of your drink. 

“Did you get me any?” Obi-wan asked.

You looked to him, silently cursing yourself for forgetting about Obi-wan, “Uhm, I figured we could share!” You attempted to save your skin as you handed him the cup.

“Oh, did you?” He looked from you to the cup you were offering. After a moment of internal debate, he took the cup from you and sipped the drink. 

You smiled and leaned your head on his shoulder as he flew back to the temple. 

-

Obi-wan had gotten an earful from Master Windu, when the two of you had arrived back to the temple. Obi-wan was swept into a meeting and you were left to your own devices for a while. 

For the next week Obi-wan seemed to be more strict with you, keeping conversation to business only. After the initial week, you two had slowly fallen into a more comfortable and casual routine. Although he didn’t allow himself to relax as much as he had the first night you were together. It had been just about 3 months since becoming a padawan. You were doing great with everything, except for meditation and wielding the force.

“Master, I just don’t have the attention span for this type of stuff.” You sighed, becoming frustrated with yourself as you once again failed to enter a deep state of meditation. 

“You do, you just don’t believe you do.” Obi-wan corrected you. 

You were sitting cross-legged in the middle of a meditation room you and Obi-wan had to yourselves, due to your struggles. There was calming music, the sunset shining in the room, you wore comfortable clothes, there was a miniature waterfall for stars sake. But you couldn’t do it. You tried again to focus on your breathing, listening to your environment. You heard Obi-wan’s footsteps as he slowly walked in a circle around you. You could feel his eyes on you. 

You groaned and opened your eyes, “Master, I can’t… I need a break. Can’t we do some sparring?” 

“Your combat skills are coming along very well, you don’t need anymore practice at the moment. The only thing keeping you from success is you.” He always had something vague and cryptic to say, disguised as sage advice. 

“I don’t even know what that means.” You looked up at him with a slight pout. 

“It means, young padawan, that there’s something on your mind keeping you from achieving your goals.” He explained. 

Yeah, you were staring directly at what was on your mind. Obi-wan distracted you. He annoyed you, frustrated you, but worst of all he made you want him. When you made him laugh and crinkles formed at the corners of his eyes and his cheeks firmed up. When he was being consulted on important matters and his brows knitted together and he placed his hand on his beard. It was infuriating. Because you couldn’t have him. You were quite sure he didn’t even see you as anything besides a padawan. 

You were so lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed Master Yoda enter the room until Obi-wan turned to greet him. 

“Any success, you are having?” Master Yoda questioned Obi-wan.

“Not yet. But we’re close, I can feel it.” He assured Yoda.

You couldn’t tell if he was lying or not. You stood up and greeted Yoda.

“Hello Master, it’s always a nice surprise to see you.” You smiled at the shorter man as you stood besides Obi-wan. 

“A mission, I have for you.” Yoda got right to the point, “Ready, are you?”

You stood up straighter and nodded, “Yes, Master.”

“To Naboo you will go. Represent the council, you will.” Yoda concluded.

You almost couldn’t believe your ears. You would get to represent the jedi council with THE Obi-wan Kenobi. 

“This is such an honor, Master Yoda. Thank you so much!” Your smile was beaming. 

“If you would like a head start, leave tonight you must.” Yoda turned to walk out of the room. 

“Of course, Master.” Obi-wan assured him. 

Once the door had closed, Obi-wan turned to you, “Looks like you’re getting that break you wanted.” 

You chuckled softly, smile still spread across your face. “I’m gonna go get ready!” You ran out the door and to your room. You can’t believe you finally got assigned your first mission as a padawan. 

-

It had been an uneventful few days in the starship. Your excitement had died down about 6 hours into the trip when you realized you would be stuck staring into space for a week straight. You’d gotten more used to the idea of the cramped ship being called home for the time being and you had some clothes strewn about the ship and trash from energy bars stuffed in your bed cubby. Obi-wan had complained about your mess earlier that day, so you figured you would surprise him by cleaning up while he took a nap. 

You started by disposing of the trash around the ship, wiped down the windows, then got started on picking up your clothes. The hiss of a door opening grabbed your attention, you quickly realized you were devoid of any pants, which had been a recurring issue since being on the ship with Obi-wan. To you, comfort = no pants. You found them to be constricting and uncomfortable so you never wore them when you were alone or asleep. 

Obi-wan stopped just a few inches short of bumping his crotch directly into your ass. He sighed and averted his eyes, “How many times do I have to ask you to wear clothes when I’m around…?” 

You blushed and quickly pulled on a pair of shorts and stepped out of the way for him, “Sorry, Master…” 

“Don’t-” Obi-wan had to stop himself. He was about to tell you to not call him ‘Master’. He never had an issue with anyone else saying it. But sometimes the way you said it made him picture some very inappropriate scenarios. 

“Just… do try to remember from now on.” He sent you an apologetic glance before heading to the cockpit. 

You nodded your head and continued to clean up. 

Obi-wan just needed a few moments to regain his composure. When he closed his eyes to focus, all he could see was you bent over in front of him. And the image was getting to his dick. 

“I cleaned up for you.” You said as you sat in the seat besides Obi-wan, “It was supposed to be a surprise, but…” 

“Oh, I got a surprise alright.” He retorted. 

You whipped your head to see Obi-wan’s eyes screwed shut and his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. You also noticed that he was breathing heavier than normal. 

“Are you okay, Master?” You asked cautiously, unsure if he was upset with you. 

He could feel his dick hardening, his only saving grace was to hope his layers of clothes hid it. 

“Yes, I’m fine.” He said, opening his eyes and putting his hand down. 

“I’m sorry. I really thought you were going to be asleep for a while.” You explained, but Obi-wan kept looking straight ahead. 

You didn’t get an answer, which was extremely unlike your Master. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on connecting to the environment and the force. You started to pick up a strong feeling coming from Obi-wan. You focused more intently on the feeling and then suddenly it was like you were inside his brain. You felt heat and arousal pool at your core and get a flash of an imagine of yourself bent over before your concentration was broken.

“Are you inside my head??” Obi-wan was finally looking at you.

“I…” You were at a loss for words, “I finally meditated.” You said with a sheepish grin. 

Obi-wan’s cheeks had a light dusting of pink growing across them, “(Y/n), that is a major invasion of privacy.” 

“I didn’t know that’s what I was doing! But- aren’t you proud of me?” You attempted to lighten the mood. 

“...Yes.” He reluctantly answered you, but adjusted his gaze so he was once again looking out the front of the starship. 

Your eyes stayed glued to him. You both knew what had just happened. That Obi-wan was aroused at the thought of you, and that you knew about it. You started to chew on your lower lip, the only questions that hung, unsaid in the air was if you were going to pretend this never happened or if one of you were going to make a move. You knew Obi-wan would never be the one to initiate something romantic. 

Your voice was barely above a whisper, “Do you think of me often, Master?” 

You visibly saw Obi-wan’s breath get caught in his throat when you asked your question. 

“That’s not an appropriate question, padawan.” He replied plainly, trying his best to ignore his feelings and bodily instincts. 

“Well, I don’t think you’re having very appropriate thoughts right now.” You said, standing up from your chair and begging your legs not to give out from under you. 

His eyes shifted slightly to glance to you but then were immediately fixated back on the stars ahead, like it hadn’t been your view for the last days. You started to walk towards him, closing the few feet that separated you. This caused his full attention to be turned to you. 

Obi-wan waited until you were standing directly besides him before looking up at you and speaking, “What are you doing?”

You gave him a soft smile and turned his chair so he was facing you. You leaned down so you were just a few inches from his face. You paused, waiting to hear his protests, but none came. The only sound was Obi-wan’s shaky breath he was desperately trying to hide. You placed one of your hands on the side of his chair and closed the gap between you, gently placing your lips on his. 

After a brief moment of shock and a sharp inhale, Obi-wan closed his eyes, used his hand to cup the side of your face and kissed you back. You let out an exhale you didn’t even know you’d been holding in. As you relaxed into the kiss you were sharing, you tilted your head to the side to deepen it. Obi-wan matched your enthusiasm and stood up from his chair, causing you to take a step back but never detaching from your lips. He placed his other free hand on your hip and backed you up until your legs were met with the control panel. He grazed your lower lip with his tongue which elicited a soft moan from you, allowing Obi-wan to slide his tongue into your mouth, which in turn elicited a bigger moan. You explored each other’s mouths and one of your hands came up to the back of Obi-wan’s neck. 

Seemingly, just as fast as it had started, Obi-wan broke away from you, panting slightly, “We shouldn’t be doing this.” 

His gaze held yours. His words said one thing, but his eyes said another. 

“Do you want to stop?” You asked him, afraid that he had come to realize this was a big mistake. 

“No.” He admitted, almost too quickly. “Do you..?” He shared your fear of rejection.

You shook your head, “No.”

Obi-wan connected with your lips once again and lifted you up onto an empty section of the control panel. Instinctively, you spread your legs and Obi-wan slid perfectly into the new space you made for him. He moved his mouth down to your neck and began to suck on a spot in the crook of your neck.

You moaned in response to his actions, grabbing a fistful of the robes he was wearing, “Please, I want you.” 

He responded by removing your shirt and then dropping to his knees and tugging down your shorts and underwear in one swift movement. All you could do was watch in anticipation as Obi-wan hooked one of your legs over his shoulder and placed soft kisses on your inner thigh. You opened your legs wider as he got closer to your throbbing core. His beard continued to tickle your thighs as he buried his head into you and started to lap you up. 

You moaned as your head fell back and bumped the glass windshield of the spaceship. Oh, the spaceship. This was Anakin’s ship and Obi-wan Kenobi was eating you out on the control panel. Your thoughts were brought back to the current moment when he took your clit into his mouth and began to suck on it. You entangled your fingers in his hair as sounds of pleasure escaped your mouth. That was seemingly always-perfect hair, well it won’t  be after you were done with him. 

Obi-wan’s tongue was relentless on your soaking cunt. You gripped his hair tighter as you felt your climax building up. 

“Shit, Obi,” you panted, arching your back and grinding yourself against his mouth, “‘M gonna cum soon.”

He moved his hands to your hips in an attempt to pull you closer and shove his face even deeper into your pussy. It was working, with one hand still on Obi-wan’s head and one hand with a death grip on the side of control panel, your orgasm washed over you in waves. Your moaning and panting echoes off the industrial metal of the starship and your thighs tightening around Obi-wan’s head as he continued to suck and kiss you all over. 

When you came down from your high, you opened your eyes to see Obi-wan panting in between your legs, his beard wet with your own juices. He looked utterly perfect sweaty, panting and covered in the mess you had made. He used one hand to get some excess mess off his beard before he stood back up and kissed you. You could smell and taste yourself from the kiss. 

“You are breathtaking.” He praised you when he broke your kiss, but kept your foreheads pressed together. 

“I could say the same thing about you.” You smiled at him and sat up slightly. 

You couldn’t help but glance down at the very evident bulge protruding from Obi-wan. He followed your gaze and looked down at himself as well. 

“You don’t have to-” You cut him off by beginning to peel his layers of clothes off.

Layer after layer of beige and brown were beginning to frustrate you, “Good hell, how many clothes does one man need to wear?” You muttered, more to yourself than to Obi-wan. 

He chuckled, as much as he enjoyed watching you undress him, he had been hard as a rock for some time now. So, he opted to help you out. After removing his top half, you paused to admire his body as he took off his pants. He was much more toned and muscular than his attire led on. He also had quite a few scars across his torso. You scanned his body as he stood upright once again. Your eyes led you down to a happy trail from his belly button, to where his dick was barely being contained. You noticed a small pool of wetness against the fabric from where his pre-cum and saturated the fabric.

Words were tumbling out of your mouth before you even processed what you said, “Please fuck me, Master.” 

You reached between you to push down his underwear and watching his cock spring free. His dick was also a pleasant surprise, he had so much hiding underneath the layers of his jedi attire.   You stroked him softly as you looked into his eyes. 

“Can you do that for me?” You questioned after not receiving a response to your earlier question.

“Yes, sweetheart. Of course.” He assured you and kissed the top of your head.

You leaned back once again and hooked your legs onto Obi-wan’s hips as he lined himself up with your entrance and slowly began to push himself inside of you. You gripped his biceps as you adjusted to his size as he filled you up. He started with a slower, rocking rhythm but was building it up so he was just pounding away inside you. He was savoring the way you looked beneath him, memorizing the sounds you made and the ways your face contorted in pleasure. 

“So beautiful.” He muttered to himself. 

He leaned over you to adjust his position and kissed your shoulder. Having his mouth right next to your ear was extremely welcomed. You could more clearly hear his grunts with each thrust. “I wanna hear you, Obi.” You encouraged him to not hold back, gripping onto his shoulders as you felt your second orgasm building up. 

You felt him nod against you, “Not going to last much longer, darling.” 

The sweet names he kept calling you were filling your heart even more than his cock was filling your pussy, if that was even possible. You began to help him out by meeting his thrusts and grinding against him, causing the tip of his dick to brush against the sensitive spot inside you. 

You let out a load moan and repeated your movements over and over again until you were cumming for the second time, digging your nails into Obi-wan’s shoulders. His movements were becoming slightly sloppy as he began to moan against your shoulder, then you felt his cock pulse inside you and shoot cum into your walls. With a few final thrusts, he emptied all he could inside of you and sloppily kissed your neck. 

You brought moved one of your hands to rubs Obi-wan’s shoulder blade lovingly, “You feel so good.” You gave him a final praise and kissed his cheek, that still vaguely tasted like you. 

“That’s good.” He said, still coming back down from his orgasm. He pulled himself off of you, your sweaty skin wanting to stay stuck together. He carefully pulled out of you and his large load came spilling out and trickled down your thigh. 

If he wasn’t so exhausted, Obi-wan would have taken you again at that very moment. 

“Stay here.” He instructed you as he walked out of sight, only to emerge a few seconds later with a towel to clean you up. 

You watched him as he gently wiped his dripping seed from your skin. You couldn’t help but smile, even after he had just fucked you senseless, Obi-wan was still such a gentleman. 

“Thank you.” You said softly, almost like talking any louder would burst the fragile bubble the two of you were in. 

He looked up at you after throwing the towel in the disposal, “Of course, darling.” He smiled sweetly at you and gave you a soft kiss.

It was a stark contrast from moments ago. He was rough, needy, and primal but now he was soft and gentle. 

For the rest of the trip the two of you existed in your own reality. The next evening you enthusiastically repaid Obi-wan for the oral sex. Then you proceeded to have sex on every surface you could in the cramped starship. 

~ Fin ~ 

@creatureoftheunderworldd

@onlystarwarsamdmarvel

[theidiotabides]

Don't mind me, just turning my lurking TLT blog into a full-time Animorphs meta factory since nobody I know personally has the 25-years-later brainrot I'm currently suffering.

Here's a parallel that fucks me up about Marco, specifically as it relates to his dynamic with Jake:

From Edriss, in Visser:

But I kept seeing a billowing white sail above me; feeling salt spray on my face, stinging my eyes; my hand on the tiller, the pressure of it against my palm; the sense that the boat itself was alive, endowed with life by the need of sky and sea to create some sort of union. Eva’s husband, my second husband, so to speak, was there, lying back, feet propped, a drink in one hand, a book he wasn’t reading in the other hand. And Marco, of course, climbing dangerously in the rigging, playing superhero.

From Jake, in #1 The Invasion:

So anyway, we crossed the road and headed into the abandoned construction site. ... Originally it was supposed to be this new shopping center. Now it was just all these half-finished buildings looking like a ghost town. There were huge piles of rusted steel beams; pyramids of giant concrete pipes; little mountains of dirt; deep pits that had filled up with black, muddy water; and a creaking, rusted construction crane that I had climbed once while Marco stayed below and told me I was being an idiot. (#1: The Invasion)

This is such a stark difference in behavior from Marco, and the whole arc happens before canon even starts, and I feel like it doesn't come up enough in discussions about him? Like, Edriss thinks of Marco as being too sweet & trusting to survive, and the books highlight the shift from that to his ruthless cynicism as a central tragedy of his character, and that is definitely a major part of the Marco equation. But there's also something in the shift from "fearlessly climbing in the rigging" to "calling your best friend an idiot for climbing a crane." Once upon a time, Marco was a fearless adventure-seeker. Then, too young, he learned what it really meant for somebody to die, and it destroyed that part of him.

My personal headcanon is that baby Marco was the kind of kid who could create adventure from wholecloth and regularly picked fights with bullies and probably also teachers on idealistic moral grounds, his miniscule size be damned (specifically, I like to imagine that he was very into the concept of knights and chivalry, although the superhero metaphor is more obvious). Following from this, I think the early years of his friendship with Jake were largely characterized by Marco ringleading and Jake backing him up. Marco was the one driving their adventures, picking their fights, and espousing their philosophical duty, while Jake followed in his wake, delighted to have such a dynamic person to orbit around, priding himself on his role as bodyguard. So their natural dynamic - the one that their friendship was built on, before losing Eva fundamentally changed who Marco is - was the opposite of what we see in the books.

Because Jake isn't a born leader. He doesn't actually want to be in charge. He doesn't have strong personal convictions or goals; he doesn't like making decisions; he's not comfortable weilding power (while Marco does and is). This is why Jake spends so much of the series looking for any excuse at all to abdicate, often calling for group votes or explicitly putting the burden of major decisions on individual teammates (especially Marco - "your mom; your call"). Ironically, this is part of what makes him a good leader: He can see everybody's perspective, he's willing to cede power and trust in expertise not his own, and his entire identity is a meditation on other people's values, helping him find middle grounds that nobody else can see because they're too set on their own paths.

Left to his own devices, though, Jake prefers to find people who he feels good about and then devote himself to them, adopting their worldviews wholesale so that he never has to wrestle with his own. In short, Jake wants a boss. And before the Animorphs, before Cassie, Jake had two people filling that slot: Tom and Marco. And Tom is his brother, so that's a default setting. Marco is the one he chose for himself. Marco's sense for adventure, his idealism, his willingness to pick a fight for a good cause - these are the things that made Jake choose him as a personal North star.

But then Marco lost his mom, and with her went his sense of the world as a just or safe place. Before, he thought of injustice as something temporary that you could defeat with a clever ruse or a brandished sword, and he believed that evil would always inevitably bend before a sufficiently determined good guy. Basically, he believed in the version of the world that exists in superhero stories: Sure, bad things happen, but you'll win in the end so long as you're in the right and you're clever about it.

For a long time, I made up stories about how my mom had survived. Maybe on a desert island or something. But I’m a realistic person, I guess. After a while I accepted it. (#5: The Predator)

No clever plan could bring Eva back, no matter how many stories he told himself about it, and accepting that meant accepting that anybody - including him - could just... die. Gone forever, for no reason at all. And even if they didn't die, they could disappear from him emotionally, like his father was actively in the process of doing, and no amount of fighting on his part could stop that, either. With Eva's death, Marco's world morphed into a senseless place full of random horrors, and Marco himself went from glory-seeking idealist to terrified realist. He's not telling himself superhero stories anymore; he sees them for the lies that they are.

And then Jake - a kid who specifically chose Marco largely because of Marco's idealism and sense of adventure - has to grapple with Marco's abandonment of those things, but with none of the personal emotional context attached. What does it mean to be eleven years old and watch your fearless leader suffer a complete crumbling of his worldview? And what does it mean for you, personally, when you've built your entire identity around following him, but he doesn't want to lead anymore?

I think it says a lot about Jake that he didn't abandon Marco. He easily could have found another optimistic, adventure-seeking person to follow instead, and indeed I think that's what Marco expected him to do. Afterall, if Marco's dad can more or less abandon him, it logically follows that Jake will probably do it, too. I think Marco's snark is largely a coping and deflection tactic, but on some level it's also an attempt to justify his continued role as Jake's best friend. He knows Jake picked him for the superhero-worshipping kid he used to be, and the only parts of that person he still has any connection to are his humor and his smarts. So he leans into constant clownery to reassure himself that he's still giving Jake the friend that he wants, and therefore Jake won't leave him. It gives him a sense of safety: As long as I'm smart and funny, Jake will have my back.

Jake’s my best friend. But he’s my best friend because I’m me, you know? Because I’m funny and smart and I’d back him up anytime, any place. I mean, what am I supposed to do? I’m me, Marco, not some touchy-feely, share-your-feelings-with-the-group kind of person. I don’t share feelings, I make people laugh. (#15 The Escape)

But of course Marco is never in danger of losing Jake at all, because Jake is an absolute loyalist where his people are concerned. You have to fuck up pretty bad for Jake to turn his back on you once you're in his inner circle. So Jake never even considered finding a new best friend; the job belongs to Marco, fullstop. Instead, he started trying to fill the void left by Marco's personality collapse himself, mirroring the traits that Marco used to have back to him, maybe in hope of sparking that part of Marco back to life. Jake idolizes superheroes. He intervenes with bullies. He flaunts danger to climb the construction crane.

But Marco can no longer see the crane as an adventure. He sees it as a death trap that could kill Jake at any second, and he doesn't feel safe until Jake is back on the ground, and he's angry that Jake can't understand that, so he insults him. Both because Marco can't express any feeling straightforwardly so his fear has to come out sideways, but also because Jake is a mirror of who Marco used to be, and on some level Marco hates that naive little kid just because he doesn't get to be him anymore.

By the time we meet them in canon, Marco and Jake are two years into this new dynamic. Jake is occupying the leadership role full time while still modeling himself after the way Marco used to occupy it (with a dash of Tom, because little brother syndrome), occasionally succeeding at drawing out bits of the old Marco in the form of harebrained schemes. Meanwhile, Marco is intensely aware that he is no longer the person Jake wants him to be, and he vascilates wildly between regret/fear (because he might lose Jake if he can't retain some scrap of that person) and contempt (because that version of him was a naive child who believed in superheroes instead of death, like an idiot), and both of these come out in his treatment of Jake. They love each other absolutely, but there is also a disconnect that they don't know how to talk about.

And then the universe is like, lol, let's give these two boys with a specifically superhero-flavored interpersonal power struggle actual superpowers, plus a team to lead in a mandate to save the world.

It's also worth noting that in #50, when Jake has fully given up and is actively trying to abdicate all responsibility for leadership, he tells Cassie that he's only leader because Marco said he was:

“Marco can be in charge,” he said helplessly. Again he pulled his hand away. This time I let him go. “He’s smarter than I am. Or Tobias. Or Ax. Or you. Rachel. Anyone. Anyone but me. You know why I was in charge in the first place, Cassie? Because once upon a time, a long time ago, Marco said I was.” “Jake, that’s not the whole truth …” “Well, now my term of office is over,” he continued bitterly. “So how about for once you guys figure things out and tell me what to do.” (#50 The Ultimate)

But Marco didn't say he was, at least not until after that consensus had already been reached by the others (at least, I can't find it in the pages of the early books - somebody please point me to the passage if it does exist!). If anybody, it was Tobias who waved the fearless leader wand over Jake. But Jake remembers it being Marco, because Jake's whole life is colored by Marco's abdication of leadership in their interpersonal relationship. Everybody else sees Jake as being in charge (and most of them put Rachel second in line), but Jake sees himself as a placeholder for Marco, ready to step aside just as soon as Marco tells him to. But Marco never will.

Anyway, that's my headcanon about what those two lines mean for the Marco/Jake dynamic.

[dr-hidden-paradise]

The Game Afoot.

As you all converse, the sixteenth student included, you didn’t even notice as a vaguely familiar face walked up to the podium in the enclave of the gym, orange-blue hair rustling slightly as Callum peered over the podium, fiddling with the hem of his Hawaiian shirt. He tapped the microphone slightly, wincing at feedback as you turned your attention to him.

“So um, hey! Good t-to see you all here!” He smiled nervously, before biting his lip.

“S-so you may be wondering why you’re all here, I mean, yeah this is supposed to be Hope’s peak right? Why did you get here so weirdly- and trust me we have um, answers. Anyway so… there was going to be a relatively normal event here… but see then the former employees of Hope’s Peak…” Callum paused, unsure of how to take this, “Were brought to a different employment when… there was a change of management. Yeah… let’s go with that.”

Unfortunately not even the most observant of you noticed Luna creeping up from the darkness in the back of the enclave, though she looked different in terms of her wardrobe.

A pure black scarf seems to be wrapped loosely around her neck, below the dark blue ribbon you saw earlier, with the scarf seeming to rustle restlessly. A loose shirt hung on her frame, and her arms were visible, patterned with a variety of black and pale pink scars on her right and her left arm seemingly not to be of human origin, but built from the night itself. A clawed hand wrapped around the top of her cane, tapping on the floor in front of her as she walked.

“In short, y’all are fucked.”

“Brilliant wording there Luna,” Callum sighed as he fiddled with a golden ring on his right hand, “unfortunately, despite her crass wording, she is technically correct.”

Luna bared her fangs in a smile before the canine ears twitched slightly, the scarf shifting around her neck, covering it up completely, before scowling.

“Who the fuck brought cats here?! And twenty of the fuckers? Whomst the fuck?!”

“L-Luna calm down please… it’s really a non issue since no one has allergies to cats…” Callum said, trying to calm Luna, trying to avoid the wayward scarf that was flapping wildly.

Luna said nothing though, as if trying to figure out where the cats came from from her spot on the stage, before her scarf hit Callum right in the face.

“Oh… ow”

“Parrot what are you talking abo- you’re bleeding aren’t you? Shit I’m sorry we need to get Doc now and-“ Luna panicked.

“Heh it’s fine, I can get her myself… it’s not your fault Luna. It wasn’t your fault either, it’s just…” He sighed bitterly as he held his nose, “I’ll go see her, and I’ll see if someone can take my spot for this thing okay?” Callum said softly, allaying Luna’s worry for a moment.

Luna paused and seemed to consider his words for a moment, before nodding, and reaching over to ruffle his hair, underestimating the distance at first but correcting herself.

Callum smiled and walked off, leaving from the door.

…

“… so… I uh… so… twenty fuckin ass cats was not part of the plan… so like… fuck you in particular whoever brought them. I hope it was worth it to you, because I don’t think so and uh, you’re probably going to die anyway so fuck you again.” Luna said shrugging her shoulders.

What? What does she mean by that?

While you all ponder this question, another person comes through the door- this one slightly shorter than Luna and the moment he comes through Luna seems to relax a bit.

“Sandy.”

Getting a good look at ‘Sandy’ as he comes up, you can make out his features, tan skin with long fluffy golden hair that reminds one of a lions mane and bright orange half lidded eyes, worsened by the bags evident under his eyes.

Holding a staff of some kind that held an unlit lantern in the crook of it, he gave a lopsided grin at Luna before looking at all of you, “mmm yeah… it’s me, though I guess I need to introduce myself to all of you… sixteen students right? With everyone else that’s got to be at least 25 people right? My nights are going to be even busier now huh? Oh- right introductions,” he yawned, blinking slightly, “You can call me Aelius.. or Elio, either works, I don’t really care about formalities though so call me whatever.”

He stood there for a moment holding the staff tightly before dipping his head, before jerking it back up suddenly, “hey… Slyphie, you don’t mind if I take… mmm nap right? You just needed someone with you for this right?”

Luna nodded, before he reached out for a portion of her scarf, smiling softly as the dark material wrapped itself comfortably around his wrist and hand before it settled down, and he fell asleep soon enough where he stood.

“Tch, you work yourself too hard Sandy… I get why though,” Luna mumbled before turning to you, “Alright, I have someone here now, so rules! Right. So, like Callum was saying before someone pissed off the scarf, there was a ‘change of management’ meaning that the Hope’s Peak you thought you were going to visit is no longer! Woo! Fun! What’s even more fun is that the only way you kiddos can leave is if you spill some blood- murder a classmate why don’t you! But but but- very important to note that if you get caught murdering or it’s proven that you murdered, ya die instead of leaving and the rest of you guys don’t die and instead live another day! Basically ‘headmaster’ was going to have you guys actually just do like… puzzles and shit and have a chance of dying but… given some recent changes out in the normal world and, a very interesting show from what I’ve heard, they decided this would be a lot more fun! And I’m pretty fucking inclined to agree! Like listen, are you really friends if you don’t murder eachother a little? Anyway, since I’ve told all of you guys this, the school’ll be opened up bit by bit, and you’ll meet most of the staff and the game will begin or whatever. We’re all free for questions and a bit of advice if you need. RIP AN-“ Luna trailed off before realizing Aelius was stirring before correcting herself a bit more quiet but still plenty audible, “Oh they’re gonna tear eachother in to pieces, by the furthest ring this’ll be fun!” Luna exclaimed, her right hand covering her mouth as it widened into a sadistic smile.

@castleofsweetanxiousness @shadestar413 @ohlookitsnormannn @newdanganronpaanotherv3 @mentally-ell @starsaver94 @jesskass @ultreservecoursestudent @ch3rryn1ghts @k0rek1yos @kantah @ultfanboy @herr-aka-somecutenerd @ann-yeah @miyazakis-stuff @joficeandwind

[astridthevalkyrie]

major spoilers for crossroads!!!

the part of me that hates happiness really needs to know how levi was after we died. like what were his thoughts. we got fucking married the night before and specifically never told him “i love you” because he requested to say it first. he was ready to drop his dreams at a dime for us. he finally, finally decided that-fuck it- life’s too short not to show how much he cares. and it turns out that our life was much shorter than he thought. if he decided to stay with us and fight instead of going after zeke like erwin requested we would still be alive. not only that, he got away in the end. he probably knew we were dead on that field before he came back out for us. did he wait cause he was scared? if he did do you think he feels guilty like it’s his fault?

and my biggest question yet; how could you write this as the ending? don’t get me wrong, it’s probably the best ending you could’ve done BY FAR. it’s so sad yet so realistic for that world. we didn’t think we’d make it till the end right? i’m more of talking about the writing itself. cause i don’t think i could go without the happy ending.

and now that i think about it what a place to end it. we didn’t see the ocean, we didn’t make up with our mother, we didn’t get to know the truth of the world, to see the world. and we just got to a place where we were happy with ourself. you ma’am, are a creative genius. i started reading this series like 2 years ago when you were still updating it consistently. stopped reading cause i wanted to watch it beforehand so i could have context. never actually watched aot until about a week ago. remembered your fic, started to read it. and now i’m a sobbing mess who has been pacing around in my room all night like a lunatic pondering the heartbreak of a pretty anime man cause i want someone to grieve for me as much as i’m sure he does in your story. hands down one of th best fics i’ve ever read. thank you for making it

thank you for the spoiler warning! even though it's been out for a while i really appreciate it just in case someone's on my page for the first time <33

levi is a mess. obviously the final chapter will be alllll about him going through the motions as plot things keep happening. it's like, everything you said. he realized life was too short, but he still never heard the magic three words from her, and he never said them to her either. and hahahahahahahaaaaa yes, in the end, her death in hindsight could very much have been avoided if he'd stayed and fought with her, with little to no difference in outcome since zeke got away in the end. he might have even had some support during the serum debacle. who would reader want the injection to go to, i wonder?

as for why he waited, yeah—he very much knew she was dead. she was up against 25 titans and on her last set of swords. he left her knowing she was gonna die, and pretty quickly at that. what's funny is that...if she didn't engage and just kinda stood there, the titans wouldn't have gone for her. zeke's order to the titans is "rip him to pieces!" they were only after levi, none of them even try to eat her, more like just bat her out of the way. of course if she hadn't fought them, levi would have way more to deal with and would either have died or at the very least been overwhelmed enough that catching up to zeke would be impossible.

levi doesn't regret his choices. that's what erwin taught him. but how long can that last when even erwin isn't there to remind him of it? he's guilty. he's beyond guilty. but what he regrets isn't the final moments, after all, those were her choices. it might be those sneaky confessions he never verbalized that he's more agonized over.

reader's story is.....completely cut short. she doesn't see her mom or millie again, doesn't get to tell levi she loves him, doesn't get to see the outside world or even find out about it. she never even finds out why annie did what she did! and i'm really, really glad you think it's a good ending to the story despite all that. (of course, we're not done yet, but reader's journey definitely ends here.)

it wasn't always 100% the plan. when i posted the original Superior oneshot, i had a backstory forming in my head, and then a loose canonverse plotline. i'd love to say that there was a story i wanted to tell that everything was built around, but honestly all my favorite moments just appeared in my head, and the story formed around them. if someone is curious i can delve into alternate endings i thought of, at least one of them is pretty wild LMAO. but by the time i started summer rain her death was sealed since i had to start setting it up.

the FACT. that you read my silly little story before watching aot. means the whole WORLD to me. rest assured the pretty anime man loves you in that story and every other one. thank you sosososo much, i hope you liked watching the show too! thank you so much for the kind words <3