#organizes tasks sometimes lol

[icewindandboringhorror]

................ he 

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[whimsicalpoet44]

Sorry I've been M.I.A. I've been processing a lot of grief and have had a lot of unexpected life changes (unrelated to grief).

Soooo, to cheer myself up here's some random astro observations.

Random Astrology Observations

These are based on my experiences, and not every one of these will apply to someone else with the same placements. This is just my own observations!

Note: If I use the word Karma, I mean the concept that you get back what you give to others. I want to be respectful about using the term and wanted to make sure I'm distinguishing it separately from the religious meaning of the word. I haven't found a great alternative for it even after searching extensively, so if anyone knows one please let me know! I know it's been westernized and I hate that. ☹️

⚡️ Anyone with 3rd House placements will likely encounter issues with their siblings at some point or another. They could live in their siblings shadows, been tasked to take care of them, or just never got a long with them altogether. This can play out in a hundred different ways, though.

⚡️ We talk a lot about repercussions for messing with a person who has Saturn in the 4th/8th/12th House. But Saturn in the 2nd? I almost feel like it's worse.

I know a person with Saturn in the 2nd who was being mistreated by an authority figure. The person mistreating her was getting a degree in higher education. By the time the two parted ways, the person mistreating her had her entire reputation completely obliterated, rendering her higher degree completely useless in her career field as a result. And the person with Saturn in the 2nd told nobody about the individual's behavior.

Saturn won't just come for their finances, they'll come for anything of value. Six months later, that individual was divorced, selling her home, and was pushed out of the organization she worked in. It was genuinely shocking lol

⚡️ As a person works through their Lilith sign, their appearance can change. Not just physically, but their overall vibe. They'll feel like a different person. And it's because they've owned their inner power.

⚡️ Scorpio Placements are so powerful, but they often stand in their own way. They can manifest basically anything, but their self deprecating tendencies can hold them back from attaining it.

⚡️ If the Universe pairs a Capricorn Rising and a Scorpio Rising to hold a person accountable for their shitty behavior, you know whoever that person is really messed up. Both of these rising signs hold heavy karma, one from Saturn and one from Pluto. It's actually quite a beautiful sight to behold if the person is deserving. I've seen this on many occasions and when both are through, there's nothing left standing.

Both individuals also always figure out about halfway through the divine intervention that they play a far greater role than they realize and it's a lesson for the two individuals to step into their own power as well.

When we try to be the 'better' person, sometimes we're denying the person who wronged us the accountability they deserve.

⚡️ In a synastry chart, aspects to Lilith, South Node, Chiron, and Juno can indicate potential soul contracts if you know where to look. (If you're soulmates/twin flames/karmic partners/etc). Of course there are other indicators as well.

⚡️ Sagittarius placements are seen as hopeful and positive, but a lot of the times, they're full of doom and gloom. They avoid their problems by doing whatever they want. Many of them never planned out a long-term future because they never saw themselves reaching that point of their lives, rendering them in a disaster they have to clean up and build themselves back from the bottom up. Which they do successfully. They never really lose hope, but they avoid responsibility until they can't anymore.

⚡️ Aquarius/11th House Placements fight a life long battle of trying to be themselves and not fit the mold their parents laid out for them. They only find true happiness when they realize their life path isn't for everyone and it relies on the fact that they must be who they really are.

⚡️ Aries Placements get a lot of hate, but if they react from a healthy place, they make some of the best advocates I've ever seen. I think it's because they have an endless supply of energy and healthy anger to tap into to make sure everything is getting addressed correctly.

⚡️ Leo Placements cannot escape attention. It follows them. They are usually forced to reconcile with it and learn to work through the uncomfortable feeling associated with it.

⚡️ If you have a planet that's in the same sign as your Chiron (or conjunct), prepare for that area of your life to be a complete dumpster fire until you find a healthy way to work through the Chiron wounds.

⚡️ If you tell a Scorpio something they don't want to hear, they'll just change the subject. Then they'll come back to you in 6 months and tell you that you were right, but they'll never outright say the words "you were right."

⚡️ I'm pairing Libra, Pisces, and Cancer together to work through their people pleasing phase, because once they do, they can flip a switch and cut someone off without a second thought. That's when they unlock their inner power and begin to set healthy boundaries.

⚡️ Taurus Risings have a lot of great qualities to them (and I do love them), but I've seen a lot of praise for Taurus Risings who also have Scorpio placements. While I can see the benefits, every Taurus Rising with Scorpio Placements that I've ever met (and I've oddly met a few) have created their own personal prison in their minds when it comes to trusting others and opening up. They won't crack. They are lock and key. They can express they want to be vulnerable, but they often don't know how. (Again, this is just my oddly specific experience lol) They also struggle with finding safety in materialism, while also feeling empty because they crave more spiritual interactions.

⚡️ Gemini and Sag placements always feel chronically misunderstood. I've also never met a single Gemini/Sag that wasn't diagnosed with ADHD or was a burnt out gifted kid. A couple of my friends that tried to prove me wrong came to me about 2 years later with a diagnosis in their 30s. 😂 (again, just my experience)

⚡️ Virgo North Node - How's that career in healthcare going? 😂 Jk, not everyone with a Virgo North Node is in healthcare, but it's a lot of you. lol

⚡️ Capricorns are some of the most anxious people I've ever met. They just hide it really well. It most likely stems from whatever they went through in childhood.

⚡️ Virgo placements often carry this stereotype that they're uptight and anxious (with a lot of control issues). As a person that used to work in the mental health field, every Virgo I ever met did have anxiety, but it wasn't 😢anxiety😢. It was ✨anxiety ✨. They are some of the funniest people I've ever interacted with. And they did have the stereotypical Virgo traits, but there was a layer of sarcasm to it. They're hands down some of my favorite people. A lot of them are oddly cat people too, which is weird, because I see a lot of people associate Virgos with dogs. (though it's really both since virgo rules small pets)

⚡️ Ever Sag had a horse phase. I don't make the rules. 😂

⚡️ Cancer placements likely struggled with bullying in childhood. I swear it's because other kids can sniff out their sensitive nature and try to exploit them. They always end up surprised when Cancer placements stand up for themselves, though. I would never want to cross a Cancer placement because they'll find the time and patience to extract revenge. People forget about their cold side.

⚡️ Leo Sun, Virgo Moon, and Scorpio Rising are the ultimate big three combo. And weirdly, I know a lot of people with these placements. They trigger others without trying. They just exist and people literally hate them. They have a strong sense of justice and they're very methodical and practical. It's excellent.

[tswhiisftteedr]

Memories ☆ One Shot

☆Merchant Husband!Jamil Viper x Fem!Yuu!Reader x Merchant Husband!Kalim Al-Asim:

After your student career at NCR, Crowley had yet to find you a way to bring you back to your world. But that didn’t matter anymore, you had by now found yourself a new home in Twisted Wonderland. A family of your own, two wonderful husbands and children. But despite always moving forward, it is sometimes nice to look back to sweet moments of the past..

Warnings: Mature Content, Swearing/Explicit Language, Reader gets called slutty one time but the rest is loving and fluffy. Not Proofread. READER & THE GUYS ARE ABOVE AGE AND MARRIED KEEP THAT IN MIND BEFORE ENGAGING.

Based on this ask:

So could you do a One-Short of Jamil x F!Reader x Kalim? In which the three, now adults and married, both rulers of Scalding Sands, after a day of work and putting the children to bed (Aisha the eldest, daughter of Jamil and Y/n, and Omar, son of Kalim and Y/n), Y/n was organizing the things when he finds a photo album from the time when the three of them studied at NRC, so the three of them start to remember from the time they met, to the moment they got married (while having flashbacks of those moments), remembering all the good and bad times they had, and at the end they have an intimate moment, let's say... 👉🏻👌🏻, if you know what I mean😏

I kept imagining Kalim and Y/n laughing at Jamil, when they went to Scalding Sands for the fireworks festival, where they heard several embarrassing stories from him, including one (I made this one up) where when Jamil and Kalim met, Jamil mistook Kalim for a girl and was all in love about him

Notes: Since the al asim are a long line of wealthy merchans but not royals, I didn’t make them rulers(as in sultans) but high in the the contries hierarchy. Also I don’t know if I actually like that one, I’m not sure this fic is that good, sorry if you don’t like it.

Author Note: I have 15+ other request to work on after this one but I also have to study. About 5 are twst and rest are Hazbin hotel. I have gotten sub!vox x Succubus reader, zestmilla and a Velvette x autistic reader request, but those don’t follow my rules. Though I think I might do the Velvette one, because I hadn’t put in my rules that: I don’t think I have the writing abilities to fulfill a request like that one, when it was sent out. But I’m still not sure, it’s a maybe type of situation, anyways that’s me and my life. Lol anyways enjoy!

☆ more under the cut. ☆

It had been a long, tiring day, so much to do, and you swore to yourself more than once that you were surrounded by incompetent idiots. Being the wife of an old money merchant and a brilliant new money one was a difficult task, you were constantly on your feet, ordering around, signing off on shipments, formulating contracts and making phone calls.

Despite the discomfort and exhaustion that hard work brought you, it was inevitable that you would grow accustomed to it. Reminiscing no more about the world you had left behind, the scalding sands were your home, with your two husbands and your children.

Aisha and Omar, the light of your day. The sunshine they brought into any room they entered, that always made you smile.

Aisha resembled Jamil so much that no one could question where she had gotten her traits from, always calculating and good at keeping her emotions in check, she was truly the responsible elder daughter. Though, same could be said for Omar and Kalim. The two of them were like pees in a pot, the times they would fall to their endeavours you couldn’t help but wondered if one of them was really an adult.

But at last it was time for your little sunshines to go to bed, they had school tomorrow and you didn't want them to be sleepy in class. So after saying goodbye to their Nanny, Mrs.Miriam, you tucked them in. Sweet fairy tales and gentle lullabies to hold their hands on their journey to dreamland.

As you step out of the children’s bedroom you could help but notice the door to the storage room was croaked open, ‘must have been the kids’ you assume. After all, Aisha loved to wear your old dresses, even if they didn't fit. And have a tea party in them with her brother, Omar probably wore one of Jamil's many business suits, he loved to look professional during these play dates, even though the big fabric made him look somewhat ridiculous.

You stepped in to make sure everything was tidy, but much to your expectation and disappointment, the children had left the room a mess.

At that moment, you sincerely asked yourself why you didn't have a maid, ‘you were rich, so why were you the one who had to clean up?’ But no reason to lament on it for too long, being pissy wouldn’t clean the room.

So you reluctantly began to reorganize the chamber, despite your tired state. While doing so, you coincidentally happen to stumble onto a fancy-looking box, a rather large one at that. It had an inscription carved into it, 'Memories'. And upon opening it, you had discovered about 5 or so photo albums. Three of them belonged exclusively to Kalim and Jamil, one was dedicated to the three of you and the last one was just NRC memories in general.

Opening the album filled with shared emotions brought a delightful wave of nostalgia to your heart. Swiftly completing the room cleaning, you carried the box to the living room, eager to reminisce about high school days and enjoy glimpses of your husband's past.

After about 30 minutes of reviewing the photo albums, you had only reached halfway through the NCR one when you heard the sound of keys opening the front door.

Focusing on the voices, you recognized your husbands, you had been eagerly anticipated their return. Myriam had only prepared food for the children, so you had patiently waited for Jamil to arrive and treat you to his delicious cooking.

As the two men entered, shedding coats and shoes, you overheard Kalim sharing a laugh about his workday. At least one of you three found joy in the challenges of being successful merchants.

“Well hello there, what's a lovely lady like yourself doing all alone tonight?” Jamil greeted, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and planting a kiss on the crook of your neck.

‘Such a flirt,’ you mused to yourself, even after years of marriage, he still seized every opportunity to hit on you—an aspect not everyone would expect given his usual demeanor. “Nothing too special, my good sir. Just indulging in the pleasure of walking down memory lane,” you replied, gesturing to the open photo album on your lap.

"Mhm, I see," he responds, while your other husband explores the elegant box. Pulling out one of the albums that you didn't contribute to, he opens it and flips to the first page. Sporting a broad grin, he exclaims, "Man, this brings me back!"

After giving a glance at which album Kalim had chosen, Jamil nods in agreement. "Sure does, though I did hate you when those pictures were taken."

"That's so mean, Jamil!" Kalim protests.

"What can I say? You were quite the annoying and demanding kid. I'm glad Omar didn't completely take after you with that one." He sneakers and Kalim whines as a responds. Though it ends with both of them lightly laughing.

It's true that Jamil and Kalim once had a conflicting relationship, but after working through their dynamics, they became good friends and, subsequently, lovers.

It all began as a sort of love triangle after the winter break of your first and their second year. Kalim confessed to Jamil that he had fallen for you, not realizing that Jamil had been harboring feelings for you for quite some time. But instead of brushing off his emotions for the sake of the Al-Asim family as he had previously done, Jamil candidly admitted to Kalim that he also liked you and wouldn't back down just because Kalim felt the same.

A friendly competition ensued, as they vied for your attention by outdoing each other whenever you were present. ‘You had trouble with a certain topic in class? Jamil would help you out.’ (1 point for Jamil). ‘You wanted new stationary because the ones Crowley had provided were on their last lives, Kalim would get them for you, gold or silver encrusted? Your pick.’ (1 point for Kalim). And so on.

However, it did happen that the ever-clumsy Kalim would unintentionally disrupted Jamil's plans, such as on the before Halloween night. Jamil had prepared meticulously to ask you to the Halloween dance, crafting a special gift.

With the assisted by the ‘unexpectedly benevolent at that moment’ Professor Crewel, he concocted a bouquet of everlasting sparkling flowers. Perfecting the potion applied to the plants, creating a handcrafted card, and embroidering a sweet message on the ribbon that would tie it all up, took considerable time. Considering his responsibilities as vice housewarden, club duties, and student work, he may or may not have sacrificed a significant amount of sleep for those flowers, but despite the sleepless nights that took some toll on his health, he believed it was worth it for the girl he loved. Because ‘Hey, what’s a couple hours of missed beauty sleep when we’re taking about making happy the future love of you life!’

Everything was set to be flawless – he was impeccably dressed in his uniform, almost done with his hair, just a bouquet delivery away from asking you out. ‘Simple, right?’

However, what Jamil hadn't anticipated was that, despite Kalim growing up surrounded by gold and precious gems, he still acted like a magpie drawn to anything shiny. Walking through the scarabia hallways, Kalim noticed the slightly ajar door to Jamil's room and, feeling the urge to close it, approached. ‘He didn’t want people going in to his friend jamil’s room with his consent!’ after all.

Though, his concern for people entering Jamil's room without his agreement didn't seem to extend to himself. After seeing light reflect on something through the door’s opening, he entered, consequently spotting the beautiful sparkling bouquet on the vice housewarden's desk and couldn't resist getting a closer look.

As Jamil returned to the room, Kalim, in a reflex, hid the flowers behind himself to cover the fact that he had touched something he shouldn't have.

Obviously, Jamil immediately noticed the bouquet behind the white-haired boy; with around 100 flowers, it couldn't be easily concealed. As he was about to ask for the flowers, Jamil took a noticed to something in peculiar – Kalim was remarkably close to the desk, espagnol with the flowers behind his back. That's when it dawned on him: Kalim was currently crushing the flowers.

Seizing Kalim by the shoulder and reclaiming the flowers, Jamil couldn't help but observe the crushed petals that now marred the majority of the bouquet. As Kalim acknowledged the dire state of the plants, he looked at Jamil with a face full of guilt.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I just wanted to get a better look, and then you surprised me-" Kalim began.

"Oh, so now it's my fault? My fault you came into my room without asking, and it's my fault you touched something that didn't belong to you? Do you even know what these were for? I worked so hard to make them look that way! But now they're ruined!" Jamil emphasized, throwing the bouquet on the ground.

Now grabbing Kalim by his collar, Jamil continued, "They were for me to ask Y/N to the dance. I spent so much time trying to make them look perfect, something you wouldn't understand since you probably would've just bought something instead of taking the time to make it. You just ruin everything. Shit, you make me so fucking angry!"

The sudden yank on Kalim's collar caused him to stumble backward, landing on the edge of the desk, his legs still firmly planted on the ground. He yelped softly in surprise as he felt Jamil's breath hot against his neck, and a shiver ran down his spine at the combination of anger and... something else? Maybe it was just the closeness that made him tremble.

"L-Look I’m sorry," he managed to choke out between ragged breaths. "Please forgive Jamil, I-I didn’t mean too."

However, Jamil's grip tightened further, pulling him closer until their bodies were flush against each other. Their faces were mere centimeters apart now, and Jamil's eyes bore into Kalim's like daggers. Despite his rage, there was an underlying heat burning brightly in his eyes, threatening to consume both of them.

Without warning, Jamil leaned forward, crushing their lips together full of madness. His tongue forced its way past Kalim's surprised lips, seeking entry into his mouth. His hands moved up to cup Kalim's face, holding him in place as he deepened the kiss.

Finally breaking the kiss, “What the hell,”Tsk, “Shit! I don’t know what came over me, I was just so mad and-“ Jamil began rambling but is cut off when an audibles “fuck” came out of Kamil’s lips.

“Did you just say fuck?” Jamil question,

“You just kissed me and that’s what you’re worried about!” Kalim retorts.

“You’re right, sorry, I’m sorry. Let’s just forget about this and never speak of it a-“ Jamil starts again,

“Wanna do it again?” Kalim cuts off once more.

Meanwhile you patiently waited at the location Jamil had texted you, but after 45 minutes of silence and Jamil not responding to your texts, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

You weren't about to get stood up, no matter how pretty the motherfucker was. Heading straight to Scarabia ready for any excuse or so you thought. What you didn't anticipate was walking into both of your crushes making out on Jamil's bed.

They were so absorbed in each other that they hadn't noticed your presence in the room. To break their entrancement, you casually remarked, "Hot." Seeing the two guys you admire in appearance and personality, kissing and grabbing at each other was an undeniably attractive sight.

However, that your words did break their moment. Pulling away, Jamil spoke from under Kalim, "Um, hey, how's it going, Y/N?"

"Don't 'Y/N' me, Jamil. You texted me to meet you in front of the Seven's statues because you had something important to tell me. Then you don't show up and ignore all my texts. Now, if you want to continue your make-out session with Kalim, I'd suggest you promptly spit out what you wanted to tell me," you sternly replied, perhaps a bit too harsh. Despite your initial reaction, you quickly faced the reality that if they liked each other, you couldn't be with either of them and that hurt you. Or so you thought until their next words.

"Oh, well, the thing was that I wanted to ask you to the dance, but the bouquet I made for you kinda went south," he said, looking at the smushed gift on the floor. Following his gaze, you discovered the beautifully sparkling yet crushed flowers at your feet.

"So wait—why are you making out with Kalim if you were going to ask me out? I get the idea of going as friends, but the bouquet is a bit over the top for situations like that." You point out.

"No, it's not. Shit, it's hard to explain," he paused and collected himself, with Kalim now seated beside him.

"So, what happened is that I was going to ask you out as my date, in a romantic type of way. But Kalim accidentally ruined my gift, and that got me so angry, then we kind of just started making out. So I guess I also like Kalim in addition to you," Jamil explained.

"I'm confused as fuck... so let me get this clear, you like me, but you also like Kalim, and he's okay with it," you remarked.

"Yeah, I mean, I also like you. So it's kinda better if he also does," Kalim replied.

"Wait— You also like me?" you questioned.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I know this is sort of really weird, and it's totally fine if you don't reciprocate our feelings. I totally get it. You are in no obligation to do so," Jamil says to you.

"You're right, I'm not obligated to do so," you paused, making their hearts stop. The rollercoaster of emotions from anger and anxiety to hot and bother to finally feeling rejected was a bit too much to handle in such a short amount of time. But your next words brought peace to their hearts and minds. "But, would it be weird if I were to admit that I also liked the two of you?"

"At this point, not at all," Jamil replied.

"So is it okay if I join your make-out sesh?" you asked.

"Of course!" Kalim exclaimed, grabbing your wrist and, consequently, throwing you onto the bed with the two of them.

And that's how the three of you began your relationship.

Now back to the present,

The three of you had migrated to your Shaftland(Alaskan) king-sized bed, with you positioned between the two. You were all in pyjamas by now, you in shorts and a t-shirt. Currently, you were flipping through the album Kalim had picked up.

"Oh, and this was the first picture we took after I realized you were a guy," Kalim said, pointing at a photo of the two of them studying as children.

"Wait, you thought Jamil was a girl?" you questioned.

"Well, I did at first. He was really pretty as a kid and had nice long hair, though, I guess he still is," he said with a giggle. You looked at your other husband for confirmation, half-expecting Kalim to be playfully trying to confuse you. However, Jamil nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, apparently he did for the longest time. We got introduced at four, and during the span of 6 years, he thought I was a chick," he explained.

“So how did he find out you weren't?" you asked.

"One day, he dragged me out in the rain to play a game of ball. I tried to tell him that we couldn't, but he wouldn't budge. After about half an hour, I finally convinced him to come back in to avoid both of us getting a cold. I had prepared a bath for both of us to use, but, of course, it had to be kept a secret. I couldn't let anyone know I might have let Kalim get sick. So once the bath was ready, I began to strip. My shirt was halfway off when he started rambling about taking responsibility as the honorable son of the Al-Asim family and marrying me after seeing me indecently. I just stared at him for a couple of minutes, in shock, and then corrected him about my gender. The looks he gave me were like I had just turned his whole world upside down," Jamil explained.

"Well, it felt like you did back then," Kalim commented with a huff.

"I guess props to Kalim for wanting to do the 'decent thing' and marry you," you said with a snicker.

"Ha, ha, really funny," Jamil replied sarcastically.

"In the end, it did happen, though," Kalim said, somewhat of a marvel in his eyes.

"True, maybe 10-year-old Kalim had fortune-telling abilities. You never know," you said.

"For some reason, I strongly doubt that," Jamil retorted.

You soon turned to the album filled with pictures of the three of you. As you examined the images, a hint of insecurity crept in.

"I wish I still looked like that, being 16 and beautiful," you expressed, but that didn't sit well with your husbands, not at all.

"Babes, what are you talking about! You're literally so beautiful, like really beautiful. I mean it," Kalim reassured.

"Yes, he's right. You’ll always be gorgeous," agreed Jamil, wrapping his arm around your frame.

"And besides, nobody could ever compare to you," added Kalim with a wink.

Your face gets warmer at their compliments, feeling a little better but still you couldn't shake off the nagging doubt in your mind. You knew they meant well, but sometimes it was hard not to compare yourself to your younger self or to other woman in general.

"Thanks you two, really, I appreciate it," you managed to say softly, trying to sound more confident than you actually were.

Kalim leaned in closer, nuzzling his nose into your neck and whispering hot breath against your sensitive skin. "I love how you smell so sweet," he muttered before trailing kisses down your neckline, leaving marks along the way.

Jamil followed suit, nipping at your earlobes and sucking lightly on them before moving downwards towards your cleavage. His hands traced slow circles around your waist, teasingly brushing against your sensitive flesh.

You gasp softly, arching your back into their touch, unable to resist their advances. Your heart raced faster than usual, thumping wildly against your chest as anticipation built up inside of you.

You felt your shorts being unfastened one by one, exposing your body to your husband’s hungry gazes. You closed your eyes, savoring the anticipation building up inside. Your breath hitched as you felt Kalim's warm fingertips teasingly tracing along your thighs, brushing against against sensitive flesh before dipping slightly lower towards your wet panties.

Lifting your shirt, his tongue traced circles around your nipples, sucking and licking each one until they stood erect and hardened.

Jamil's hands moved higher up your body, cupping your breasts in his large palms, massaging them roughly yet tenderly. His thumb played with your nipples, teasing them mercilessly while his lips found yours, claiming their own passionate kiss. Their tongues tangled together, exploring every crevice of each other's mouths as he continued to fondle your chest.

As things escalated further, both men began to undress themselves, revealing their cocks straining against their boxers. You could feel your pussy growing increasingly hotter and more lubricated at the sight of their hardened members, yearning for the moment they would finally fuck you. You moaned, your voice trembling with desire and need.

Kalim moved between your legs, spreading them wider apart before leaning down to nibble on your sensitive inner thighs. His hot breath fanned across your wet pussy lips, making goosebumps rise on your sensitive skin. "I want to taste you," he croaked against your panties, his hands gripping tightly onto your thighs. He did become ‘pushy’ then his usual self when it came to sex.

Before you could respond, he yanked down your underwear, exposing your pussy to his hungry mouth. He groaned deeply, savoring the scent of your arousal filling his nose. His tongue darted out, tracing slow circles around your entrance before exploring your hole, lapping up every drop of your dripping arousal. You cried out in pleasure, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over your.

Jamil stop you momentarily to change the position, now under you, with your back against his chest, hands spreading your thighs, his member now pressing against your entrance. With one swift motion, he thrust himself inside her tight hole, stretching her walls wide open. You gasped at the feeling, meanwhile Kalim returned to devouring your pretty pussy.

"You taste so fucking good, baby," Kalim muttered hoarsely between licks and sucks, his tongue darting in and out of your wet entrance. His fingers continued to tease your sensitive spots, finding just the right rhythm to send shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Jamil grunted deeply, thrusting faster now, his cock stretching your tight channel even further, filling you up completely. He reached down to play with one of your nipples, pinching it gently before twisting it roughly. "That's it, take all of me, my slutty little wife"

Your moans turned into high-pitched whimpers as they both relentlessly attacked every inch of your body. Your walls clamped tightly around Jamil's cock, milking him for more while you ended up squirting onto Kalim's face. The mixed flavors of their combined arousal only served to fuel their lustful hunger.

“Oh god, yes," you moaned, your voice breaking with pleasure. You felt so full, yet so empty at the same time. Your pussy clenched tightly around his thick shaft, milking him as he began to move faster and harder, slamming into your core repeatedly. Meanwhile Kalim had broke away to focus on his own erection, soon placing himself in your mouth and facefucking you. You didn’t protest, he had been so good to you, ‘so why not let him have his fun?’

"Shit, you’re so beautiful Y/N," stated Jamil, his hips moving in sync with Kalim's thrusting rhythm. You could feel yourself nearing orgasm once more, your body trembling in anticipation of release.

"Fuck, ‘it’s to much!" you cried out against your husband’s cock, though it came out as a mumble, in addition your voice was already hoarse from their passionate lovemaking. Your pleasing noises only served to fuel their lust even more, pushing them closer to climax together. You and Jamil being the first to finish, he slightly thrusted into to ride out your high.

Kalim was watching the two of you like a hawk, throwing his head back in ecstasy as he relished in the sounds you made. He soon reached his own breaking point, moving back to his original position to finish on your pussy and stomach.

After a couple minutes of heavy breathing,

"This was fantastic," Kalim remarks between breaths.

"Yeah, it was. By the way, are you still taking the pill?" Jamil asks, turning to face you.

"Oh, no. I forgot I was on a break from it," you say, a bit alarmed.

"Well, looks like Aisha and Omar might have some potential siblings on the way," Kalim says with a giggle.

"Ha ha, real funny," you respond sarcastically.

"I mean, it's not that bad of an idea," Jamil suggests.

"Okay, less thinking about more kids, and more thinking of showering now. I am beat and sweaty," you say.

"Yes, ma'am," the two of them say in unison.

And that’s how your night ended.

Thanks @Selena_Twisted_Wonderland on AO3 for requesting!

©tswhiisfttedr. dn translate, or plagiarize.

Tip Me (Ko-Fi) & And support my art account @maviscarlettie

You can now commission me!

Reblogs help!!! (Request Are Open)

[maniacwatchestheworld]

A brief note about the League of Assassins and the Court of Owls

@imjustheretofangirl003 (I'm answering questions and providing information for DPxDC fans.)

So... Uh... Quick question... Have people around these parts been mashing the League of Assassins and the Talons together...? Because like... The League of Assassins wouldn't use Talons...

Okay, so to my knowledge, the Talons have nothing to do with the League of Assassins. The League of Assassins, of course, is the organization that serves Ra's Al Ghul (when he was alive) and that Talia Al Ghul (his daughter and Damien's biological mother) is a very high ranking member of (until she took it over after her father died). Damian was raised in and by the League of Assassins. Obviously, the League of Assassins are all highly trained assassins lol. So... Yeah, Damian was not exactly raised in the best of situations. (Literally raised from birth to be a deadly weapon for the League.)

The Talons, on the other hand, work for the organization known as the Court of Owls. The Court of Owls is a secret cabal of exceedingly rich fucks (consisting of some of the richest families in Gotham) that have been running Gotham from behind the scenes since the city was first founded, or so they say. The Talons are all highly trained assassins, but unlike the League of Assassins, they are pretty much all undead. (Some of the members of the League of Assassins might be long-lived, but they are all decidedly alive. Additionally, Ra's is not the kind of person to like sharing his Lazarus Pits, so beyond his direct family, he's unlikely to let others in the LoA use them. Also, the Lazarus Pits extend your life or fix up and heal your body as you're dying/bring you back to life. Jason Todd may have been brought back to life in one, but he isn't exactly considered to be undead. Ra's and Talia are also not considered to be undead either. The Lazarus Pits generally bring you back to life, not turn you into an undead. You can see Task Force Z to see where that thin line can be drawn.) And some of the Talons might also be fucked up mutant owl-people...? So that's what's wrong with them lol. Some of them can be hundreds of years old and they do decidedly have to be made or at least recruited. (They kinda have to be, given that humans aren't typically undead by nature.)

So yeah. Damian, Talia, and Ra's Al Ghul are from the League of Assassins and Ra's is known to use Lazarus Pits to extend his life. Talons are from the Court of Owls and are undead assassins that work for the Court. They are generally unaffiliated with one another, but they are sometimes portrayed as being enemies.

Now to be entirely transparent, I have yet to read any stories featuring the Court of Owls (though I have been collecting issues of Batman: City of Madness, so I have one story involving them waiting in the wings!) so I may be mistaken, but from what I can tell, the Talons used to be normal people. Typically people who were highly skilled in the art of murder in life, who were then brought back to life (and became undead) through the use of a material known as Electrum. Exposure to electrum can apparently revive the dead. Apparently Electrum is another bullshit magical metal just like Nth metal, but instead of it being used to punch ghosts, it is used to bring back the dead lol. I don't know if the Talons are being manufactured at a large scale, but they may not need to be, given that the Court of Owls has existed for hundreds of years. So the Court may have just been slowly building up a healthy collection of Talons over the decades as they find good candidates and "recruit" them. And since they're undead, unless they're outright destroyed or deprived of Electrum (which they have a definite reliance on), they are pretty damn reusable!

Now it's pretty obvious why both the League of Assassins and the Court of Owls would feature in DPxDC fics, but just keep in mind that while they have some obvious similarities, they are mechanically and thematically very different from each other! In fact you could say that they're opposites! Where the League of Assassins is a group of assassins who have leadership that sparingly use the Lazarus Pits to extend their lives to a supernatural length where the rest of their ranks are largely regular humans, the Court of Owls are run by largely regular humans (though they are rich which is a superpower in of itself) who like to more liberally use Electrum to employ various trained undead assassins to do their bidding while typically not using that material for themselves.

[kolyasupremanxy]

Hello, can you do Fyodor x reader who is very smart but she act dumb and funny

𝐰/ 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬/𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐛

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐅𝐲𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐬𝐤𝐲

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff , Romance ( ? )

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 0.5K

𝐀/𝐧: this is so short, sorry. Guess what? I'm sick lol

Despite Fyodor's calm demeanor, he is secretly amused by your silly behavior and is often caught hiding a small smile when you're around.

Fyodor admires your intelligence and enjoys having intellectual conversations with you, but also finds your goofy behavior endearing.

He often pretends to underestimate your intelligence, just to see the look of surprise on your face when you prove him wrong.

Fyodor finds your playful personality a refreshing change of pace from the serious and dark world of the Decay of Angels.

He enjoys watching you make silly faces and tell jokes, secretly wishing he could let loose like that himself.

Fyodor appreciates your ability to lighten the mood and make him forget about the stresses of his criminal organization.

Despite his own arrogance, Fyodor finds your lack of ego and humble attitude refreshing.

He often teases you playfully, but deep down he cares for you and would never want to hurt you.

Fyodor is intrigued by your ability to act dumb and funny, wondering how someone so intelligent could also be so carefree.

He finds your unique personality fascinating and loves getting to know the different sides of you.

Fyodor loves watching you laugh and smile, even though he rarely shows emotion himself.

He secretly hopes that your lightheartedness will rub off on him and help him find a sense of peace amidst his chaotic world.

𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨 :

You and Fyodor are sitting together in his apartment, both of you working on some paperwork for the Decay of Angels. Fyodor is focused on the task at hand, but you keep getting distracted, doodling little drawings on the corners of your papers.

Fyodor looks over at you and raises an eyebrow. "What are you doing?" he asks.

You look up, grinning. "Oh, just adding a little something to make these documents more interesting," you say, holding up your paper to show him the drawings of silly faces and little animals.

Fyodor shakes his head, a small smile on his face. "You really are something else," he says, before returning to his work.

As you continue to doodle, you accidentally knock over a stack of papers. Fyodor sighs and starts to gather them up, but you reach over and grab one, holding it up for him to see.

"Look, it's a picture of you!" you say, holding up the paper with a drawing of Fyodor's face, complete with a big grin and a little crown on his head.

Fyodor looks at the drawing, his expression softening. "You know, I appreciate your intelligence and your work for our organization, but sometimes it's nice to have someone who can make me laugh," he says, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You grin up at him, feeling a warmth in your chest. "That's me, your resident dumb and funny girlfriend," you say, leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek.

Fyodor chuckles softly, returning the gesture. "I wouldn't have it any other way," he says, before turning back to the papers in front of him, a small smile still playing on his lips.

Do Not Copy or Plagiarize Any of My Works. Reblogs Are Very Appreciated.

[obsolescent]

Happy Birthday, Leon

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

Summary: As Leon’s assistant, you help keep everything organized for him. One day while arranging some papers on Leon’s desk, you stumble across his birthday. Noticing that it’s only a few weeks away, you begin to prepare a surprise celebration for him, unbeknownst to you how Leon feels about said day.

Author’s Notes: Hey! This was not planned, but I was like oh, wow, the day I headcannon as Leon’s birthday is April 1st…Should I? And so I did lol. This follows a few HCs I have for Leon! I couldn’t sleep anyways and needed something to take my mind off some real life issues that’s occurring, hope you enjoy! (I cut it close with this one lol).

Content Warnings: Angst, mention of losing parents, grief, gender neutral language used for reader, Leon and the reader have ties to the southern United States, fluff, Leon healing his inner child.

Without you around, Leon would surely be running around like a chicken with its head cut off. 

You think about that metaphor and grimace, realizing how dark it actually is. With a shake, you rid your mind of it and resume your task. Leon had to abruptly leave for an important meeting that was called at the last minute. You could hear him bitching about it the whole time while scrambling for the necessary papers for said meeting, and Leon had left his office in complete shambles.

Your smaller office was connected to his, ‘yeah, an office, if you could call it a room even, more like a shoebox,’ and after throwing the door into the wall with a BANG and a rushed “Meeting, be back whenever,” Leon was gone. After settling your heart rate back to its regular rhythm, you had gotten up and checked the wall for any doorknob shaped dents.

Praying to the Lord that the doorstop still does its job after the one thousandth time of being repeatedly smacked, you glanced into his office and stopped. Typically, about once a month you like to help Leon out with his space, straightening things up for him, but this…

‘I don’t know how this man works like this…I can only imagine what his house is like.’

Back in the present and at the task at hand, you start with the papers thrown about the floor, gathering them together. You begin to sort them by the date, noticing that some even have footprints on them! ‘This man…’ you groan, trying to dust the sheets off, only succeeding in smudging the dirt further.

Stacking the documents off to the side, you begin clearing off the top of Leon’s desk, grabbing dirty mugs with old coffee in them and pouring them out in the sink in the kitchenette. You carry a roll of paper towels, disinfectant spray, and a duster back to his office.

Dusting what little trinkets he had on his desk, you run it over his desktop computer and its keyboard. Trying not to apply too much pressure when you start going over the keys, you manage to bump into the mouse, waking the computer from its sleep.

Glancing at the screen, you notice it didn’t lock. ‘He’s like a secret agent or something, right? Why does he not have this locked? Or…Could it be that he doesn't know how to?” You think back on how God awful he is at working any device, having to sometimes ask multiple times a day for help. You let out a puff of air and grin, already thinking about how you’re going to bring it up once he’s back.

Though, something catches your eye on the screen. His personnel file is pulled up.

He isn’t really secretive about his background, more like you never have an opportunity to ask about it. Leon’s mentioned friends and some semblance of a family, and if you try hard enough you can still make out a southern drawl on the tailend of some of his words.

A small peek wouldn’t hurt. 

You bend over, face just a few inches away from the screen, and begin scanning, finding the first one you’re looking for.

‘The southern lilt makes sense now!’ 

Seeing that he comes from a small town, a smile forms on your face, thinking about the stories he could possibly tell you about it, the yapper he is. You store the location into your brain, planning to do your own research later. 

The next one that catches your eye is his date of birth. ‘April Fool’s Day? Oh, poor guy probably got so much shit for that in school. I bet his parents had a hard time convincing their family that he was actually born that day and it wasn’t a prank. Also an Aries, fitting for him’ 

You laugh at your thoughts but freeze, your gaze moving to the small calendar propper up on his desk. 

‘That’s in 3 weeks! Why didn’t he say anything?’

He may not care about it much? Some people, as they get older, don’t hold as much emphasis on things like that. Regardless, you’ll do something for him, it’ll be small and simple, but hopefully it’ll open him up for more discussions about his past, or at least put one of those rare smiles on his face.

You finish cleaning up his office and put away the supplies, brainstorming ideas for the rest of the day.

-

As his birthday gets closer, you sneak in decorations a little at a time, not wanting him to catch onto what you’re planning. The night before the big day, you tell Leon you’ll be staying later to catch up on some paperwork. None the wiser, he nods, going back to his computer screen.

Once he’s left for the day, your plan is set into motion.

You pull out the items stashed in the back of your desk’s drawers, starting with a banner, each letter a different color painted on burlap, spelling out “HAPPY BIRTHDAY”. You tape it to the front of his desk, then move on to the kitchenette. You pull out a tablecover, white with polka dots the same color as the letters on the banner. You set two party hats down on the table, laying out the candles you’ll be putting in his cake–er pie?

Trying nonchalantly to ask about his favorite desserts, he had mentioned he hadn’t had pecan pie in awhile, that it used to be one of his favorites. Thanking your granny for always making one for almost every holiday, you knew that recipe off the top of your head.

You triple checked that it was still in its container in the fridge. ‘It hasn’t grown legs and walked off.’ You giggle at the thought and shut the door, going through the space to check once more on your handiwork. 

Satisfied, you shut the lights off and lock up, a bounce in your step as you walk to your car.

-

You’re up before your alarm screams at you, too excited about today. You head into the office earlier than usual, getting the pie out from the fridge and setting it on the table, sticking the candles in it.

You feel like your body is literally vibrating from excitement, not knowing why you’re so thrilled. 

I mean, yeah you’re throwing a surprise party for Leon, but there’s something else there. Maybe it’s that you get to do something for him? You do feel a bit giddy whenever he thanks you for tidying up his office, his lopsided smile making your own smile turn into a grin.

‘Maybe you have a crush on Leon?”

Oh, it could be that. Dude’s hot, a bit dorky. A flirt, too, even if he doesn’t mean to come off that way. You could see it. You don’t have long to contemplate the thought, hearing his Jeep pull up.

Screaming internally, you rush to grab your party hat and throw it on, turning off the light and moving to stand in the middle of the room.

The door opens with a soft chime. Leon steps into the foyer, muttering, “Why the hell are the lights out?” 

Leon walks into the room and flips the switch, and you scream, “SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LEON!”

You startled him it seems. Leon jumps back, hand hovering over his side before realizing it’s just you, and his hand drops.

‘Damn, he almost pulled his gun on me, maybe that wasn’t the best idea, next time I definitely won’t–’

“How did you know it was my birthday?”

Snatched from your internal monologue, you stare at him. 

He seems…upset?

“Uh, w-well, back a few weeks ago, I was cleaning your office and saw that your file was pulled up, I happened to glance at your birthdate! Also, it totally makes sense, like, of course you’re an Aries. Athletic, brave, charming, stereotypical and…”

You trail off, your rambling dying off at his hardened expression. 

Leon walks towards you. 

He’s not the tallest man, but with the expression on his face along with his body language, you feel minuscule.

You try to ease the tension in the room, by babbling, of course.

“I made you a pie, pecan! Y-you said you hadn’t had it in awhile, and my family makes a really good one, it’s actually my granny’s recipe–” He holds a hand up to silence you.

He walks back to the front door and locks it, before stalking past you into his office.

“Come in and close the door,” he says cooly.

Dread seeps into you, breathing beginning to pick up. ‘Is he going to fire me?’

You take a deep breath and release, turning and walking into his space, closing the door behind you.

You sit in the loveseat in front of his desk. It seems like the banner stares you down as well, seemingly mocking you in this turn of events.

He sits down in his chair and leans back, chin in his hand while he stares off to the side.

You stare at your lap, hands sweaty as you wring them. 

“You have no idea why I don’t celebrate it.” 

Your eyes dart up to look at him, but he’s still staring off, but his expression looks softer now.

You think he’s talking out loud, so you don’t answer, looking down once more. 

“My parents died when I was younger. After they were gone, no one threw me any parties. No more gifts, no more cakes. I couldn't even tell the other kids because they thought I was lying about the date. So I stopped celebrating it. Kept it to myself, until now.”

Your heart hurts for him. The pain behind his words are evident.

“I’m so sorry, Leon,” you blurt out, unable to hold back the wave of emotions, “You deserve to have a happy birthday, with cakes and gifts and all, surrounded by those who care for and love you. I just wanted it to be a good day for you, I didn’t mean to bring back such awful memories.”

You’re a mess, the horrible feeling of guilt filling you, your eyes red with unshed tears. You rise from your seat and walk around to him, and Leon stands up on instinct.

You don’t even care if this isn’t professional at this point. You wrap your arms around his waist and embrace him, your tear soaked face soaking into his button up.

He says your name, “It’s okay, you didn’t know,” he tries to comfort you as best as he can, going to pat your head and disturbs the streamers around the edges of the party hat you’re still wearing. You gasp and pull back, ripping it off and tossing it to the ground.

You apologize again, making your way towards the desk to pull the banner down. You’re pulling the tape off the corner when Leon’s hand stops you.

“Hey.”

Leon says softly, his fingers grasping your wrist, tugging your hand away. 

“You said I deserve to have a happy birthday, don’t I?” He asks, and you jerk your head in a nod, “Of course, yeah.”

He smiles, “Well, there’s always today, it’s still my big day, ain’t it?” 

He walks over and picks up the hat up off the floor, holding it out to you.

“Let’s start with that pie, I’m starvin’.”

[freesia-writes]

Kitchen Nostalgia with Tech

[Part 3 of Holiday Fluff with The Bad Batch] Dividers by @ve-ti-ver on this post here Word Count: 1.2k, LOL... Tech is always gonna get me goin. ;) SFW, just some warm and fuzzy stuff that will be a composite master post of Bad Batch sweetness. GN Reader.

“This is ridiculous,” Tech commented, unable to tear his eyes from the TV despite the array of baking materials laid out across the counter. The loud laugh track played over raucous clapping as Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra introduced the next number with playful banter, crew workers pushing fake storefronts and houses across a large sound stage behind them. “It’s entirely fabricated, without any attempt to conceal the fact…”

“They weren’t trying to make it seem real,” you giggled, wanting to squeeze him as he groaned at the sight of an incredibly gaudy Christmas tree, dripping with tinsel, being rolled out next. “It’s just… the aesthetic. It’s a variety show. Television was still new, so people were thrilled to see anything really.”

“This is reasonable, however in our current day and age–”

“It’s just nostalgic. Warm and fuzzy. I can’t explain it,” you interrupted, pulling his arm to invite him to finish rolling out the cookie dough. “It seemed like a simpler time… Pure and sweet somehow…”

“Mafia-affiliated crooners singing Euro-centric holiday songs does not strike me as either pure nor sweet,” Tech commented, 

Ladies and Gentlemen! Frank Sinatra Junior and Dean Martin Junior!

“The same names?” Tech nearly choked. “First their daughters are introduced as singers, now their sons too? I question the authenticity of the organic talent of the offspring versus the undeniable favoritism from production companies due to their parents’ status.”

“Tech,” you breathed, exasperated at his constant commentary, although you couldn’t really blame 

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like you to meet my daughter Deana,” the taller one said. You couldn’t help but start to giggle, hearing Tech’s words in your head before they even left his mouth, and as he spluttered like a fish out of water, the show continued, “And I’d like you to meet my daughter, Tina.”

“The rhyming is just patronizing at this point, and have these performers been evaluated for narcissistic personality disorder? His name is Dean, his son is Dean Junior, and his daughter is Deana?” Tech looked as though he was about to have a conniption, and you couldn’t take anymore. Leaning over him, you grabbed the remote from the counter and switched the screen off, laughing uncontrollably. 

“Okay, okay, it’s all ridiculous,” you confessed, a little indignant at his inability to move past all of the shortcomings. “I just like the old stuff sometimes, alright?” 

“I apologize if my thoughts are preventing you from enjoying your show,” Tech said, although you could tell he was just saying it because he knew he was supposed to. You stuffed down a little grumble and instead turned your thoughts to the task at hand.

“Let’s just finish the cookies,” you said, pulling out your favorite shapes of cookie cutters while he continued to flatten the dough across the counter. You snagged a small piece from the edge, popping it in your mouth and relishing the sweetness with a single, closed-eyed sigh. His face softened a bit, pushing aside the protests about salmonella risks with a reminder of their statistical occurrence. 

The rest of the baking went by with quiet conversation and little brushes against one another, and once the cookies were in the oven, the luscious smell filling the kitchen, it was time for the traditional “waiting drink” – an “adult egg nog”. As you mixed together two mugs and took a long drink from yours, you heard big band music, lifting your head to see Tech turning the television back on, an unmistakable and endearing cringe on his face. 

“You don’t have to–” you began, but he waved his hand, turning toward you with a surprising gentleness on his face. He came back over, accepting your mug and lifting his eyebrows after a cursory sip. 

“I believe I was overly hasty in my judgment,” he said, shocking you deeply at his uncharacteristic admission. Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra were cracking themselves up now, dancing in over-the-top silliness as they sang a medley of their most popular songs in perfect, playful harmony. You took another sip of your holiday drink, warmed to the core and pleasantly fuzzy. 

“It’s alright,” you answered, “It’s not for everyone.”

“But it is for you, and I care about you. Therefore, in a way, it is something I can appreciate as a facet of your personality and interests,” Tech said, taking a step closer. You loved the way he could arrive at wonderfully sweet and romantic conclusions through the process of cold, hard reason. You couldn’t have possibly anticipated his next words, however, as Frank Sinatra began to sing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”. Not usually one for physical touch, he lifted a hand to the outside of your arm, stroking it lightly with a look of resolution on his face as though he’d decided to try something. “Would you like to dance?”

“Dance?!” you blurted out, setting your mug down much harder than you intended. Tech looked concerned.

“It seemed fitting with the–” he explained.

“No, no… I’d love to!” you interrupted, heart warming at the flicker of relief on his typically unfazed face. “I just… didn’t think that was something you’d enjoy.”

“I concur,” he answered matter-of-factly, and you laughed again, a tingle washing over you as he slowly nestled one strong, steady arm beneath your own and rested his hand between your shoulder blades, scooping you into a very rigid and structurally perfect ballroom frame. He took your other hand in his, pulling you into the first step with an impressive blend of strength and grace, and began to step slowly in time to the music. 

From now on, our troubles will be miles away… Here we are, as in olden days… Happy golden days of yore…

Buoyed by the warmth of the egg nog and brandy, intoxicated by Tech’s closeness and quiet intimacy, you closed your eyes in utter bliss, guided by his firm leading as you swayed slowly around the kitchen. You didn’t know what had possessed him to try something so uncharacteristic, but you weren’t about to start asking questions. 

Through the years, we all will be together…If the fates allow…Hang a shining star upon the highest bough…

You didn’t think it could get any better, but as the song went on, his arm suddenly lowered, the rigid frame that kept you at bay replaced instead with a more snug embrace as he pulled you in against his chest, still clasping your hand in his own but resting it against his shoulder. You nuzzled in, savoring every touch and movement as he leaned his cheek against the top of your head. Holding him as closely as possible, your arm tucked lovingly around his waist, you inhaled deeply, his scent mingling with the baking cookies, and you thought you might burst with joy. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, and he pressed a kiss to your hair, deeply gratified by the overwhelming success of his endeavor. He was trying something new, channeling his focus to the senses. The feeling of your body fitted along his own, the slight chill in your fingertips, your steady breathing... He was surprised at the warmth it conjured.

Perhaps he would investigate further.

Tag List: @littlefeatherr @arctrooper69 @foreverdaydreaming1 @stunkbiggu @mxkyrie @littlemissbshine @dreamie411 @skellymom @followthepurrgil @the-hexfiles @1vlouds @ughhhhfoff @coraex @gt13tbbart @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @ghostperson69 @secondaryrealm @hellhound5925 @thew0nderer2342 @cloneloverrrrr @kashasenpai @clonethirstingisreal @dukeoftheblackstar @kimiheartblade @mooncommlink @stardusthuntress @starstofillmydream @eyecandyeoz @dhawerdaverd @ladylucksrogue @thiswitchloves9904 @isthereanechoinhere96 @tech-aficionado @foodmoneyandcats @eternal-transcience @cw80831 @adh-d2 @techmexicanvieja @ezras-left-thumb @trixie2023 @sleepycreativewriter @nonsenseandm3mes @mlichaelm @nahoney22

Click here to join or leave the tag list. <3

[persephone-writes]

On the Streets of Coruscant: Part Two

Obi-Wan x Fem!Reader

Read Part One (posted on my old account @persephone-writes2)

Obi-Wan image by ObmanBalagan on pinterest

Description: Over a decade after their spontaneous stroll around the Plaza, Y/N is working as an aide to Senator Amidala. When the Senator is placed under the protection of two Jedi after an assassination attempt, Y/N is reunited with the now Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Word Count: 9.7k

Warnings & Tags: canon typical violence/the assassination attempts of Padme (mentioned only), mild discussions of low self esteem, reader specifically does *not* have children, probably a crap ton of grammatical errors, lots of Y/N usage, fluff, kissing, happy ending!

Notes: Sooo, full warning, I hate this, but I'm posting it anyway! This takes place during Attack of the Clones, so I had to change a few things around to fit in the reader (some things just happen because I said so lol) This also means that I HAD to include Jar Jar. I attempted at writing dialogue for him but I just couldn't bring myself to, so I tried my best to just have him barely be there lmao. Also, mullet obi-wan is top tier and I will die on that hill

Y/N clicked away on her holopad, attempting to get through the pile of work that had been dumped on her that morning.  While her job was always demanding, and sometimes overwhelming, this was the busiest she had been in a long time.  With Senator Amidala set to arrive on Coruscant today amidst an increasingly intense political climate, Y/N was tasked with taking what seemed like hundreds of messages, thoroughly organizing and answering every one.  While Padmé had an array of other aides to help her, Y/N was the head of her office on Coruscant, leaving her with the majority of the responsibility when she was on-planet, besides that of Dormé. 

Despite her spinning head, Y/N adored her job, as well as Senator Amidala.  She had worked in a variety of low level positions for different Senators, many of which were not nearly as kind.  No matter how much pressure she faced, Padmé never spoke harshly or berated those who worked for her.  Y/N couldn’t imagine how exhausting it must be to represent an entire planet, all while keeping up a professional appearance.  Outside of her office, Padmé had to seem relaxed, dignified, and confident no matter what she was up against.  At least Y/N didn’t have to face the wrath of the public or the argumentative nature of the Senate.  Always tucked away inside the office, Y/N could plug away at her work without the eyes of thousands upon her at any given time. 

Another aide knocked on the door of the office before entering, peeking his head in. 

“The Senator is landing.”

“Thank you,” Y/N replied, frantically pulling up the most urgent messages in preparation.  The aide hurried away down the hall, the door closing behind him.  After a few minutes, a guard came running down the hall, opening the door abruptly.  Y/N jumped at the sudden intrusion, growing fearful when she saw the look on his face. 

“The Senator’s ship has been attacked,” the guard said, a bit out of breath.  Y/N felt her stomach drop, dread rushing through her. 

“Is she alright?” Y/N asked, voice desperate. Before he could answer, Captain Typho pushed past him, leading Padmé into the room.  Her face was contorted in sadness and confusion, obviously still in shock.  She wasn’t wearing her usual attire, dressed identically to Typho in a dark turtleneck and leather vest.  She immediately sat down in one of the chairs, head hung low.  

A wave of relief came over Y/N knowing Padmé was okay.  She immediately rushed to her, kneeling down beside her chair. 

“Milady, are you alright?” Padmé only nodded.  Y/N looked up at Captain Typho, who was pacing around the room. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” he said, eyes darting around in thought. “Someone bombed the ship.”

For a moment, Y/N stared out into space, swallowing thickly before she stood.  

“Milady,” Typho began, to which Padmé lifted her head, “We must get you somewhere safer.”

She nodded, standing up and taking a deep breath.  Her composure was regained, and Y/N marveled at the speed to which she recovered from such a terrifying incident.  She turned to Y/N, eyes determined. 

“Y/N, send me all the necessary documents for the vote,” she paused, turning to Typho, “We shall go to my apartment.”

“Yes, milady,” Y/N answered.  Typho then led Padmé from the room, Y/N immediately returning to her desk to get to work once again.  

A few hours later, Y/N received a message from the Captain that she would be meeting with the Chancellor and would not be returning to the Senate today.  Further, Y/N was to meet Padmé at her apartment to discuss a series of negotiation plans which Y/N had been organizing.  Y/N was no stranger to working in the Senator’s apartment, having done so on many late nights when Padmé refused to get some rest.  However, it had never been under such circumstances.   

Later in the afternoon, Padmé’s team sent a transport for her along with a guard.  Y/N thought it was overkill, as no one was after a random aide, but she didn’t make too much of a fuss about it.  No one could stop Padmé from worrying about her team, especially after some of them likely died in the attack.  As the transport flew through the busy city, Y/N peered out of the window, wondering who could have been behind the explosion.  Padmé had many adversaries, though it surprised Y/N that any one of them would attempt to assassinate her.  The Separatist movement had uprooted nearly every system, turning the Senate into more of a battle ground than ever before.  Even so, war had not broken out yet, and all Y/N could do was hope that it wouldn’t resort to that.

Pulling up to the apartment, Y/N was escorted by the guard all the way up the glass turbolift, exposed to the city.  Stepping in, she remembered the first time she had been called here, unable to pull her eyes away from the city growing smaller as she ascended.  

As the turbolift doors opened, she immediately heard the happy voice of Jar Jar Binks.  While she thought it strange for someone to be excited at a time like this, it was hard to tamper Jar Jar’s spirits.  The guard led her into the apartment, where she saw Padmé sitting on one of the long sofas.  She was clothed her usual fashion, hair in an updo, wearing a wide skirt dress with long flowing sleeves.  Although Padmé looked good in almost anything, it was a small relief to see her back to her normal self.  Captain Typho was standing a few feet away, with Dormé sitting beside Padmé.  On the sofa opposite sat two men who Y/N instantly recognized as Jedi.  Working for the Senate, Y/N had seen her fair share of Jedi over the years, though their presence usually didn’t bring good news.  Of course, today wasn’t the day for good news anyhow. 

Padmé stopped speaking, spotting Y/N as she walked into the room.  She turned to smile at her, which Y/N returned easily.  The other’s followed Padmé’s gaze, and Y/N grew a bit nervous at the attention.  Her eyes went to the two Jedi, now given a clear view of their faces.  The one sitting closest had short, cropped brown hair and the braid of a padawan falling across his shoulder.  He appeared slightly annoyed, and Y/N wondered if she had intruded upon an important conversation she was not meant to be a part of.  Her gaze drifted to the other Jedi, whose hair was on the longer side and a light copper in color.  His beard was short and neatly trimmed, though there was still an air about him that was rugged, ever so slightly ruffled.  After her brief first impression, the realization hit Y/N with a full, intense force.  Her heart sped up significantly as she thought back to over ten years ago when she had met a Jedi at a nightclub. 

Before Y/N could make any sort of reaction, Padmé stood, followed by the others.  

“Y/N,” she said kindly, walking over to greet her. 

“Senator,” Y/N said in return, bowing.

Jar Jar happily pranced over and shook Y/N’s hand, telling her it was nice to see her again.  Y/N chuckled at his enthusiasm before turning back to Padmé. 

“This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, and his padawn, Anakin Skywalker,” she introduced.  Y/N was forced to look at the two Jedi, feeling heat rush up her spine and into her face.  She had no idea if she should acknowledge that they knew each other, or pretend they were strangers.  Obi-Wan reached out his hand to shake hers, a small, polite smile on his lips.  She took it wearily, forcing herself to make eye contact.  It was easier to shake the padawan’s hand, who only nodded at her. 

Now that she was closer to Obi-Wan, she stole a look at him from the corner of her eye.  He was just as handsome as he was when they first met, perhaps even more handsome.  His face was not boyish as it had been, now more mature, his features stronger and more pronounced.  The buzz that once existed all around him was settled, but not completely gone.  Remnants of it remained in his eyes, which still held their playful shine.  Suddenly, Y/N grew self conscious of her appearance.  She was older than she had been, no longer the young girl she once was.  It was hard for her to know how different she truly looked, as she had watched herself slowly age over many years.  Her clothes as well were more mature, or rather refined.  She realized that Obi-Wan had only seen her in her party clothes, never something professional, clean-cut, more simple.  Her rapid thoughts were interrupted by Padmé, who went on to introduce her.

“This is Y/N L/N, my leading aide on Coruscant,” Padmé said.  Obi-Wan let out a small laugh at her words, earning a confused look from Padmé.  His laugh was a bit deeper than it was all those years ago, but it held the same lightness and ease. 

“We’ve met,” he said, accent still smooth, “a long time ago.”

Y/N smiled sheepishly, knowing that Obi-Wan was looking at her face.  Padmé appeared pleasantly surprised, Anakin raising his brows at his Master. 

“You have?” Padmé asked, smiling at Y/N.  

Y/N nodded, trying to think of what to say.  Obi-Wan saved her, speaking before anyone could ask questions. 

“I was still a padawan then,” Obi-Wan said, light hearted without giving anything away.  Anakin looked suspiciously towards Y/N, but wiped his face quickly when she noticed. 

“This is the day of reacquaintance,” Padmé said, pleased with the surprise. Y/N gave her a confused look, and she laughed a bit, realizing her mistake. “I met Master Kenobi and Anakin ten years ago, when I was Queen.”

Y/N nodded. “I see,” was all she could think to say.  

“You must excuse us,” Padmé began, “We have much work to do.”

“It was lovely to meet you,” Y/N said to Anakin.  She then looked to Obi-Wan, mind reeling. “And it’s nice to see you again.”  She then left to follow Padmé and Dormé, cheeks burning.  

Y/N spent the afternoon into the evening with Padmé and Dormé, going over documents and discussing her next moves.  Y/N did most of the clerical work, leaving the politics to Padmé and Dormé, who knew the ins and outs.  Although Y/N had picked up a lot, she still felt overwhelmed by the current climate and all its complexities.  The whole time, she was hyper aware that Obi-Wan was in the other room, doing who knows what.  

As the evening fell, Padmé excused Y/N, asking her to return tomorrow morning.  She was thankful, as the eventful day had her tired, as surely Padmé was as well.  At least she knew that Padmé would take it easy for the rest of the night, forgoing any further work until morning. Exiting the room, holopad in hand, Y/N saw Anakin and Obi-Wan talking on the balcony.  She hoped they wouldn’t notice her, allowing her to slip out quietly, though the chances of this were likely slim.  In all honesty, she had no idea how she would handle being so close to Obi-Wan for the foreseeable future, unable to acknowledge the circumstance of their last meeting and pretending as if they hadn’t gone on a romantic escapade.  

Perhaps feeling her eyes upon his back, Anakin turned, catching Y/N staring.  To her surprise, he gave her a small smile, which she anxiously returned before whipping her head forward.  She walked quickly to the turbolift, hoping that somehow Obi-Wan would remain ignorant of her growing uncertainty. 

Her alarm blared and she hastily reached over to turn off the cacophony of noise.  She laid in bed for a quiet moment, still groggy but remembering the events of the day prior.  She groaned upon the realization that she’d be forced to face Obi-Wan, all with the intent not to embarrass herself.  She envied his even manner which gave nothing away, not letting anyone know of their odd history.  As she pondered over this, she felt a pang in her heart at the thought that Obi-Wan was completely unaffected by her presence.  Yes, Y/N had a series of relationships since her single, solitary kiss with Obi-Wan, but that didn’t take away from the fact that she was entirely unprepared to ever see him again.  Until now, Obi-Wan was a fleeting yet meaningful moment in her life, one which Y/N would look back on every once in a while with an immature sadness.  The thought of him, someone who was so kind, so bright, so considerate, unable to form any romantic attachments, was poignant to say the least.  When this kind of thinking arose, she’d kick herself for giving it the time of day.  You only met him once, you only kissed once, what's the big deal?

Y/N got ready for the day with the intent of forgetting about Obi-Wan, focusing on the far more pressing matters.  Today would likely consist of setting up calls with many different Senators, some of which would want to discuss the recent attack, others who would simply want to argue about the motion to create an army.  Further, Y/N had no clue how long Senator Amidala would stay on-planet, so she would have to get to organizing all she could before she was off somewhere else.  As she brushed her teeth, Y/N stared at her reflection in the mirror, paying far too much attention to how she looked.  Just as she had sworn off thinking about Obi-Wan, the image of herself brought back feelings of insecurity.  She couldn’t stop herself from wondering what Obi-Wan thought when he first saw her again, thinking that perhaps his placidity came from the fact that he no longer found her attractive.  Although she tried to brush the thought of him away, she didn’t stop herself from putting on her best work-appropriate outfit.  

In a kind gesture, Padmé sent a speeder to pick Y/N up from her apartment, again accompanied by a guard.  She made small talk with him on the way to Padmé’s in an aim to calm her nerves, which despite all her efforts still bubbled beneath the surface.  When Y/N arrived, she saw Padmé and Dormé sitting opposite each other in the seating area, multiple holopads and projections on the table between them.  Off to the side, Obi-Wan and Anakin stood, Anakin seeming on guard and brewing with energy.  Padmé looked up from her work, waving Y/N over to sit with them. 

“There was another attack,” Padmé said, voice even and calculated, “I’m leaving for Naboo tomorrow.”

“Why not today, milady?” Y/N asked, full of concern. 

“I must leave on an unregistered transport, it will take some time to organize,” Padmé explained.  Seeing Y/N’s worries, she placed a hand on her shoulder for reassurance. “I will be alright, Anakin will be with me.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a bit better.  She wondered why Obi-Wan would not be joining her, though didn’t ask.  

“In the meantime, we must get as much done as we can.  I doubt I will be able to work much in hiding.”

With that, they all got to work.  Y/N was mostly silent, leaving Dormé and Padmé to talk over the majority of her decisions.  Padmé received a warm call from Senator Organa, who extended any help to her that he could offer.  Y/N never had the chance to work under him, though she expected it would be much like working for Padmé.  To Y/N, they seemed to be the only two honest and truly kind politicians in the galaxy, setting them in stark contrast to the increasingly unscrupulous nature of the Senate at large.  Amidst the growing chaos, Y/N hardly paid attention to the two Jedi guarding the apartment. 

Some time that morning, Padmé decided to move to a different room which housed a large table so that they could spread out more.  Y/N was off to the side, plugging away as usual, happy that her responsibilities seemed mild in comparison to Padmé and Dormé’s.  

Y/N hadn’t even noticed that they had worked well into midday, brought up from her work when Dormé suggested they break for a short lunch.  They were all left with a little free time, as it would take a bit for the chef to prepare their meals.  That was one thing Y/N loved about working at Padmé’s apartment; the chef.  Padmé and Dormé left the room as Y/N finished the last few sentences of her address to another Senatorial aide, sighed deeply as she sent it along. 

Walking into the main living space, she found Padmé standing beside one of the long floor to ceiling windows speaking to Anakin.  Padmé’s smile was calm, and for the first time in a while she seemed genuinely relieved.  If Y/N didn't know better, it looked as though Padmé and Anakin were close, long time friends, used to seeing one another.  Her eyes were taken away from the pair, drifting to Obi-Wan who was pouring over something on his holopad.  He too appeared incredibly natural, though tense in the shoulders.  If it weren’t for his robes, he could've been just another aide hard at work. 

Y/N lazily walked over to the balcony, pushing open the large glass doors and feeling the cool air of Coruscant brush against her face.  She sighed with contentment, taking in the view of the city from such a great height.  It wasn’t often that she was so high like this, nearly above the clouds.  It was as close to peaceful as she’s had in a while, not since her last visit to Corellia several years ago.  A few minutes passed, Y/N’s mind wandering to the various tasks which still needed to be done before Padmé left for Naboo. 

She was interrupted by the sound of the door opening behind her.  She glanced back, expecting to see Dormé or perhaps Padmé, only to find that it was Obi-Wan.  Her heart rate picked up as she took in his regal appearance, robes tidy and neatly tucked.  He smiled softly as if to ask permission to join her.  She returned it the best she could, trying to push her nerves down.  He came up beside her near the railing and looked out, sighing to himself. Y/N couldn’t bring herself to peek at him, fearful that her emotions would too clearly show upon her face. 

“I’m glad to see you working in the profession you wanted,” Obi-Wan said, voice abundantly friendly, yet somewhat professional in nature.  Y/N bravely glanced at him with a kind expression, genuinely pleased that he remembered. 

“Yes, I am too,” she paused, realizing that unlike before, it wouldn’t be awkward to mention his profession. “And now you’re a Master, with a padawan of your own.  Congratulations,” she said honestly. 

He chuckled, “Thank you.”  Obi-Wan shifted his weight to one foot, turning to look at her profile. “Truly, I am pleased to see you again.”

“I’m a bit surprised you remembered me,” she let slip, growing a bit more comfortable with the exchange.  Her teasing earned another small chuckle from him.

“I don’t easily forget,” was all he said in return, leaning an elbow on the railing. 

Y/N fully turned towards him, met with the same face she saw that night in the club as they both stood at the bar.  Now, his jaw was partially obscured by a beard.  She thought it suited him, as did his longer hair.  She wanted to tell him so, but decided against it, not wanting to break what felt like a fragile moment. 

“I’ve since visited Corellia,” Obi-Wan began again, tone still light. 

Y/N smiled at him, brows slightly raised. “You did?”

“Yes, though as you might expect, I was occupied most of the time.  However, it did not disappoint.”

Y/N realized he was very much still the same, though perhaps more subtle in his cheekiness. 

“I’ve been back as well, though only a few times. It’s still as boring as I remembered,” she joked. 

“Now, I am sure you are longing for boredom as well.”

Something electric shot through her with his words, reminding her more and more of that night.  It appeared as though Obi-Wan did not lie; he does not easily forget.  A small seed of innocent, foolish hope made its way into her heart.  Had he thought about me since then, as I did him?  She quickly reprimanded herself, shaking her head to clear the thought away. 

“You’re right,” she sighed, “For the Senator’s sake rather than mine.”

Obi-Wan paused, not replying for a moment. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from wondering what was going on inside his mind, which puzzle pieces he was trying to fit together.  She had no clue who was attempting to assassinate Padmé, too many possibilities floating around to grasp.  However, she was sure Obi-Wan had a much better idea than herself. 

“It’s a tricky business we both are in, though all things important are difficult.”

Once again, she was infatuated with his wisdom, which had only grown. 

“I bet you are a wonderful master to Anakin.” 

He took the compliment well, not as bashful as he once was. “Thank you, Y/N,” he said her name warmly, resurfacing a slurry of emotions she didn’t know still existed.  All at once she felt ten years younger, enraptured with her name said in his accent, in his voice.  

“I mean it, really.  I could hardly imagine trying to lead someone, teach them what I know.  The whole thought of it makes me feel like I know nothing,” she was letting more and more of her feelings slip, far more than she originally intended.  This morning, she had vowed to be wholly professional, to focus on the job she had to do, not to get caught up in buried emotions.  However, there was something about Obi-Wan’s presence that made her too free with her words.  It was the same way over ten years ago, where she found herself spilling her guts to an almost stranger.  If he stuck around any longer, one of these days she might just get herself into real trouble.

“I’m sure you could, if given the chance.  It takes courage to come to a new place, to build a new life.  That is something you know far more about than I.”  There he went again, melting her from the inside out. 

“Perhaps, and I’d have to bet I’d beat you in a typing contest,” she jested.  

Obi-Wan let out a hearty laugh, unconstricted and full, “I believe you are right.”

The conversation lulled, with Y/N unsure what to say.  Her guards were still up, despite the fact that they were steadily lowering against her will.  She wondered how much she could get away with addressing, which facts were off limits and which were okay to mention.  Obi-Wan seemed to be perfectly comfortable with speaking about everything but the kiss, though she didn’t want to push her luck.  

She settled on something simple, something pertaining to the here and now. “I’m happy Anakin will accompany the Senator, I’m sure she will be safe in his presence.”

Obi-Wan nodded slowly, glancing down for a moment. “His eagerness often worries me, though it may serve him well with his task,” Obi-Wan said. 

“A product of youth,” she commented, amused at the thought of Obi-Wan having to deal with the antics of a young man.  She thought that perhaps once, Obi-Wan had done the same to his Master. 

“Unavoidable, I’m afraid,” Obi-Wan replied effortlessly, turning to look at her face once again.  She felt bare under his gaze, as if he could see through her every shield, each mask she wore.  

“I’m sure with your guidance he will grow into an exemplary Jedi.  I don’t think you could mold him into anything less.” Her flattery was not lost on Obi-Wan, whose ardent smile felt like a flowering bruise, a reminder of his oxymoronic, sweet rejection.  

“Your faith in me surpasses that of myself,” he retorted frivolously, making Y/N chuckle.  After a pause, Obi-Wan spoke again, “How long have you worked for Senator Amidala?”

Y/N thought for a moment, adding up the years in her head. “About four years now.  I hope to work for her as long as she’ll let me.  She is by far the kindest boss I’ve ever had,” she laughed a bit with the thought of begging Padmé to let her stay, offering to do anything but go back to working with the other Senators. 

Obi-Wan smiled to himself, eyes darting around the skyline. “She is a rarity, no doubt.”

“I’m sure you have worked with a fair few Senators.  You must know how…difficult they can be.”

Obi-Wan chuckled with a sigh, seeming surprised by her admission. “Yes, I know what you mean.”

Without thinking, Y/N said what was on her mind, letting it pass through her filters as if it were a smuggler, “I’m glad you have not lost your sense of humor.”

“I need it to deal with Anakin,” he joked, now his turn to surprise Y/N.  

She couldn’t stop herself from giggling girlishly, placing a hand over her mouth.  She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, seeing a mildly devilish look on his face.  

“Your sharp tongue must get you into trouble sometimes,” she teased, pushing the limits a bit further.  

Obi-Wan tilted his head a bit, shrugging slightly. “It only appears amongst friends.”

Friends. The word danced around her head, bouncing all the way to her chest, pulsing against her heartbeat.  She thought that perhaps he was humoring her, throwing her a bone.  He couldn’t possibly think of her as a friend, could he?  Technically, they’ve only known each other a total of three days, which was far too soon to be friends.  Acquaintances, yes.  Friends? No.  While Y/N struggled with the idea that he might just be indulging her, she was suddenly reminded of a detail of their first encounter, one which she played over and over in her head the days following: I should not have allowed myself such an indulgence.  

Obi-Wan glanced back through the glass door, then back to Y/N, who didn’t notice his staring. “Do you still see those whom I met that night?” he asked.

It took a second for Y/N to understand what he meant, remembering he probably never got their names. “Oh, yes, I do.  Well, some of them.  I still see Ripp, whose father owned the club.”

Obi-Wan nodded, chuckling to himself, “They seemed like a lively bunch.”

Y/N laughed, thinking back to the times they had together while in school. “Yes, they were.  Thankfully, we are all doing quite well for ourselves now.”

“I’d say so,” Obi-Wan said genuinely, eyes soft.  

Y/N looked down, unable to meet his gaze. “Did you ever find that man?”

“I believe we did,” it sounded almost like a question, as if he wasn’t quite sure.  

Y/N wanted to comment on the fact that he had told her he doesn’t forget things, but thought that it might come out wrong.  Instead, she focused on the vast expanse of skyscrapers and traffic in front of her.  She could sense Obi-Wan looking at her profile, resurfacing her nerves. 

“You have not lost your wonder,” he said gently, almost a whisper.  Suddenly, she could not stop herself from looking at him, met with his tender expression.  His words confused her, throwing her off the delicate footing she had found herself on.  Her mind raced with endless possibilities, attempting to decide what he expected her to do, what he wanted her to say in return.  

With her breath caught in her throat, she said the only thing that came to mind, “Neither have you.”

He smiled, the kind of smile that seemed too intimate for their odd relationship.  Y/N felt honored to have been on the receiving end of such a smile, especially from Obi-Wan.  The gesture made her weak, pathetically chasing another look like that, completely insatiable.  Amending her earlier thought, Y/N decided that if he stuck around, her truthfulness would not be the only thing to get her in trouble.  It seemed as though there were a million things Obi-Wan could get her to do or say with a simple look towards her or a single suggestion.  It wasn’t because he was charming or persuasive, or even because he was handsome.  No, it was because he listened to her so intently, spoke to her so kindly, and seemed to remember insignificant details from a night which occurred so long ago. 

Y/N fought the urge to reach out and touch this cheek, or at least his arm.  She yearned to feel something which solidified his presence in front of her, anything to tell her he was real and not a ghost conjured up from her memory.  His eyes would have to do for now, sparkling against the midday light, so beautiful Y/N couldn’t possibly have dreamt them.  

“I envy your opinion of me,” Obi-Wan said, still soft but with an air of jest, “But I feel you may be wrong.”

She shook her head instantly, bewildered by his statement.  She wondered how he could possibly think that about himself, while at the same time saying such kind things about herself. 

He laughed quietly, taking his eyes from her.  Mourning the loss of their clear blue color, Y/N stayed staring at face, wanting to soak up every second she had with him on the balcony, where everything seemed simple. 

“I don’t believe that for a second,” she countered.  

He glanced at her with a playful smirk. “For a moment I thought you had grown a bit more shy, but I see that I was wrong.”

She chuckled, feeling embarrassed by his words.  Her whole body was burning hot, despite the high altitude breeze that came whipping past.   

“I’ve just learned when to hold my tongue,” she joked, relaxing a bit as the intensity of the moment began to lift. 

“I only wish Anakn had your skills,” he sounded serious, but Y/N could tell he was joking by his upturned lips and the crinkle on the corners of his eyes.  His sarcasm was new, though it did not feel unnatural, for his wit had always been sharp as a blade.  Y/N giggled to herself, thinking of Obi-Wan talking to his padawan, pestering him with father-like nagging. 

“Something amusing?” Obi-Wan teased, though played it off as if it was a genuine question.  

She shook her head. “No, no,” she faltered for a moment, chuckling to herself, “Are all Jedi as funny as you?”

Obi-Wan sighed as if to think it over, “Perhaps, if you get to know them.” As Y/N was beginning to get caught up in his hidden meaning, he spoke again, “Are all Senatorial aides as diligent as yourself?”

His question caught her a bit off guard, and she wondered if he had peeked into the room and seen her working.  The idea sent butterflies soaring in her belly. 

“No,” she laughed, “But it’s easy to be devoted when Senator Amidala is leading you.”

“You think quite highly of her,” Obi-Wan said a bit curiously.

“Yes,” she answered without thought, “I do.”

“I know how much of a gift it can be to be led by such an admirable example,” Obi-Wan said, voice a bit far off. 

“You’re thinking of your master?” she asked hesitantly, hoping not to overstep her bounds.  Obi-Wan nodded, though his smile had faded.  His eyes, too, were not as bright as they were before.  “I’m sorry, if you don’t want to talk about it-” she rambled, fearing the worst.  

Obi-Wan gave her a sad smile, but his face soon turned neutral. “It’s quite alright.  He died many years ago,” he confessed.  Y/N felt a devastating privilege to have received such an admission, surprised that he gave it so freely.  

“Oh,” she said without thinking, “I’m so sorry, Obi-Wan. I didn’t know.”

“How could you,” he said, unperturbed, the sadness on his face all but washed away.  She wondered where he got his resilience, so that she could get some for herself. 

“He was a good man, and a fine Jedi,” Obi-Wan began again, sounding as if he was speaking only to himself.  Y/N clung to every word, hanging on tightly to anything he chose to tell her. “Though he was a bit more like Anakin than myself.”

Y/N smiled, which soon turned into a grin when Obi-Wan gave her a mischievous sideways glance. “Just think of it as practice.” 

“Yes,” he chuckled, pausing for a moment, “I was lucky to have him, as I am lucky to have Anakin as my padawan,” his tone was deeply warm and full of love.  

Y/N couldn’t believe that he so readily told her about his life in this way, how openly he shared small, intimate details.  While his words alone were not particularly notable, the way he said them told her that he was bearing little pieces of his innermost world.  She wondered how many people were lucky enough to see him like this, punishing herself for assuming that she was special in some way.  Perhaps he was always this open, this unfettered in conversation.  Regardless, she craved a deeper look, even if it was just a peek like a sliver of light coming through a slightly open door.  

After her internal gushing over Obi-Wan’s divulgence, she noticed him looking somewhat hesitant.  It was the first time he faltered since their reintroduction, his expression seeming foreign and unlike his usual self, although Y/N couldn’t deny that she wasn’t the leading expert on the matter.  She cocked her head, flashing him a confused look. 

“What?” she asked, clueless as to what he was thinking. 

He looked down reticently, quickly bringing his eyes back to hers without any shyness.  “Do you have children of your own?” he said it innocently, as if he wasn’t nervous at all.  

Thinking perhaps she had misread his expression, Y/N laughed a bit at the question, “No, I do not.”

“Then you are free of that particular headache,” he chuckled, and Y/N laughed along.

“I can barely take care of myself,” she joked.

“You doubt yourself far too often,” Obi-Wan paused, watching her face, “and ignore how far you have come.”

His kindness spread through her like the tranquil waters of Corellia she used to swim in during the summer months, waves falling in a steady ebb and flow.  She sighed, staring at her hands which rested on the railing.  What could she possibly say to him, what words could express what she felt while also concealing the attraction which had begun to float to the surface?

Before she could think of a reply, Dormé opened the door, causing each of them to turn. 

“Our meal is ready,” she said with a small smile.

“Thank you, Dormé,” Y/N replied, heading back into the apartment with Obi-Wan following behind.  Padmé was already sitting at the table, along with Anakin.  Y/N and Dormé sat down opposite the pair. 

“Join us, Obi-Wan,” Padmé offered.  

Obi-Wan looked a bit hesitant.  “I’ll keep guard, milady,” he said, walking over to the entrance near the turbolift. 

“Captain Typho is on watch,” Padmé insisted, “Please, come eat.”

Obi-Wan sighed, giving in quickly to Padmé’s request.  He took a seat beside Anakin, directly in front of Y/N.  She grew a bit nervous, forced to face him directly, but her attention was diverted as the meals were placed on the table. 

“So, how did you two meet?” Padmé asked Obi-Wan and Y/N, beginning to tuck into her food.  Y/N should have known the question was coming, but she was a bit bewildered nonetheless.  Her mouth opened to answer, but she was at a loss for words. 

“I was on a small mission here in Coruscant,” Obi-Wan began cooly, “Y/N was kind enough to offer a bit of help.”

Anakin smirked to himself as Padmé looked towards Y/N, unaware that she was currently fighting off jitters. Y/N nodded, knowing that she should speak. 

“He was looking for someone, but I was no help,” she said in an even tone, picking at her meal.  

“Surely something must have happened,” Anakin commented, a bit of mockery in his voice, “How else would you remember each other?”

Obi-Wan smiled, completely nonchalant.  Y/N was left wondering how nervous she truly looked, hoping she was playing it as well as Obi-Wan, but seriously doubting her abilities. 

“If I am remembering correctly, a friend of yours knew the man that I was searching for,” he answered, taking a bite. 

“Yes,” she said with a breath, regaining her composure, “His father had kicked him out of the club some time before.”

“The club?” Anakin asked with a raised brow, a smirk playing upon his lips.  Realizing her mistake, Y/N felt heat creep up her cheeks.  Padmé laughed a bit, though Y/N could not tell if it was due to her reaction or Anakins. 

“Yes, Anakin,” Obi-Wan clipped, side-eyeing his padawan, “You’re no stranger to them.” 

Obi-Wan’s jab did not seem to affect Anakin, who looked rather pleased with himself.  Y/N focused on her food, not wanting to face the eyes which were surly looking at her.  Normally, she wouldn’t be embarrassed if people knew she went to clubs, especially in her younger years.  However, there was something off about mentioning it in front of a Senator and two Jedi.  It felt as though she had admitted to committing a strange sort of crime.  

“What an odd string of fate,” Padmé said pleasantly, smiling at the others. “It is not often that we are reunited with such fleeting acquaintanceships in a city this large.”

“You are right, milady,” Obi-Wan said, seemingly unbothered by the whole ordeal. 

“Yes, it is quite funny,” Y/N forced herself to say, fearing that her silence may enact suspicion. 

Thankfully, no one brought it up for the rest of the meal.  At first they discussed politics, though soon Obi-Wan went on to share a few stories of missions he and Anakin had gone on over the years.  Y/N listened with interest, holding onto every word.  Obi-Wan was an excellent storyteller, she realized, finding herself content just to hear his voice.  When the meal was finished, Padmé and Dormé went to discuss the details of the plan with Obi-Wan, excusing themselves to speak privately in another room.  Y/N was left with Anakin, who was to keep watch while Obi-Wan was occupied.   

With her holopad in the other room, Y/N was left to kill time on her own.  She walked over to the large windows, watching the speeders fly past, criss-crossing lanes along the skyline.  She soon began to worry about Padmé, wishing that whoever was behind the attacks would somehow slip up and reveal themselves.  It was a futile hope, but there was nothing else she could do.  So deep in thought, she did not hear Anakin coming up to stand beside her.  

His voice came without warning, “I have a feeling there is more to you than meets the eye.” 

She jumped, placing a hand on her chest as her head whipped around to see him.  He chuckled at her unease, and she gave him a weary smile.  However, it soon left when she processed his words. 

“What do you mean?” she asked, still a bit fretful from the scare. 

He let out a slow chuckle, looking out the window instead of at her. “I know my master well, better than most.  Which means I know when he is concealing the truth.”

She inhaled shakily, her hands coming together, fingers winding around with nervousness.  Something in her face or tone must have slipped during lunch, letting Anakin in on her secret.  She bit her lip, wondering what to say and how to deny it.  

He smirked, eyeing her steadily. “Something else happened.”

She shook her head, deciding to act as if she had no clue what he was talking about. “No, it really is as simple as what he said.”

Anakin laughed again, “You are a terrible liar.”

She wanted to groan, knowing it was fruitless to play ignorant.  She decided on a new game plan: tell him as little as it takes to satisfy his curiosity. 

“Fine,” she surrendered, wavering a bit, “I bought him a drink. A single drink.”

Anakin stared at her, spurring her on.  As she gave her a resolute look back, he raised his brows. “You know I know that's not all.”

She faltered, feeling his provocation pulling her towards his will.  Unwisely, she had thought her admission would be enough for him.  

“I promise not to tell my Master,” he offered.

After a long pause, she gave in, knowing he would not easily let the matter go. “We got talking, just small talk.  I asked him if he’d ever been around Coruscant while he’s not working, and he said no, and I…” she trailed off, scared that she would reveal too much if she went any further.  

Anakin’s eyes lit at the confession, and he let out a happy sigh. “You see, I knew my Master wasn’t as good of a padawan as he says he was,” he laughed, “He’s probably reeling, worrying that I would find out.”

She shot him an angry look, afraid that he would tell Obi-Wan of her indiscretion.  Anakin rolled his eyes, waving a hand in her direction. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell, even though I want to,” he drawled, looking proud that he had gotten the secret from her.  He crossed his arms over his chest, standing tall.  Y/N would have been infuriated if her embarrassment wasn’t so strong.  While Y/N overthought their interaction, running it over in her head until the words sounded foreign, Anakin strolled off as if nothing had happened.  

She was left a bit stunned until Padmé, Dormé, and Obi-Wan emerged from the room.  Obi-Wan went over to Anakin, telling him that he would have to leave.  He sounded quite urgent, but his composure did not waiver.  Anakin only nodded, and with that Obi-Wan left without a goodbye.  Usually so polite, Y/N guessed that the matter likely pertained to the assassination attempts, which had doubled over the course of a single day.  

Padmé walked over to Y/N, calm and collected as she always was. 

“Y/N, you are free to go back to the Senate,” her voice was tenacious, strong-willed as always.

Y/N nodded. “Yes, milady.  Would you be needing anything else from me before I leave?”

“No, that's alright,” Padmé answered with a smile, “I’m not sure when I will be in contact with you next, so give all messages to Jar Jar, who will be representing me in my absence.”

Y/N bowed, going over to her workspace to collect her things.  She had a feeling Padmé would be getting ready to depart tomorrow, and it was safer for her to have Y/N know as little as possible.  She was already a bit surprised they let her know that Padmé would be leaving Coruscant, though she had been working with her for some time.  Y/N was warmed by the thought that the Senator trusted her so much, feeling a bit proud of the work she had done thus far. 

Y/N returned to the Senate to get the rest of her work completed, not even realizing that she might never see Obi-Wan again until the end of the day.  When the thought came, a wave of sadness drifted all around her, especially since she hadn’t had the chance to say goodbye.  In spite of all her efforts, she felt the same as she did over a decade ago, sitting on the bench in the Plaza as Obi-Wan faded into the crowd.  It was stupid, foolish, and entirely immature, but her mind could not release its hook from their conversation on the balcony.  She went over every word, every expression, each twitch of the lips.  Instead of pushing the memory away as she should, she held it tighter, embracing it with open arms.  It only appears amongst friends. You have not lost your wonder. You doubt yourself far too often, and ignore how far you have come. I don’t easily forget, I don’t easily forget, I don’t easily forget.  It was if his words were echoing around the empty office, fading out into space only to begin once more.  The letters rolled on top of each other, spinning into a melodious song sung in his pleasant voice. 

As she left work, she walked slowly down the wide corridors of the Senate building, arms limp at her sides.  A haze of melancholy enveloped every step, dulling the click of her shoes against the polished stone floor.  During the taxi ride home, she looked out of the window like she always did, following the lines of the buildings with her eyes, locking onto a particular point until it was lost in her peripheral.  The noise of the city outside was dulled in her ears, as if she was listening underwater.  She thought of Obi-Wan, his copper hair, his aquamarine eyes, then dismissed it, back and forth into oblivion.  She told herself it was not by fate that they met again, that his words were simply friendly and meant nothing, though her efforts were in vain.  Every irrational bone in her body overpowered her feeble attempts to break them or expose their falsehoods.  It was a losing battle, so she pushed it off as best she could, telling the soldiers it could wait until morning. 

Her head pounded to the beat of the alarm clock like a punishment for the day before.  Turning off the vexatious beeping, she headed straight for the ‘fresher to take some pills for the pain.  She shook her head at herself in the mirror, tsking her half-witted hope that somehow Obi-Wan would fall for her again.  Even if he did happen to feel the same, he was older now, not so impulsive.  He’d never let the past repeat itself.  Y/N had to remind herself that she was an adult now too, that she would have to get over her childish infatuation and move on.  It wasn’t as if she’d never dated anyone since then.  They were never quite like him, though.

In order to regain some sense of normalcy, she went about her routine in the same way she always did.  When it was time to dress, she found herself staring into her closet at all the clothes she had hanging there, her nice outfit piled in the hamper.  She chuckled at her ridiculous decision to wear what she did the day before, somehow thinking that it was important to look nice for a man she could never have.  

The taxi ride to the Senate was longer than usual, traffic congested but thankfully never completely stalled.  It was only a few hours into the day and already it was turning out awful, though Y/N’s patience was thin to start out with.  Unlike the previous evening, she walked quickly through the Senate to her office, giving the people she passed a cordial, but somewhat frigid smile.  She didn’t know if she’d be able to get through the pleasantries of “how are you?” or “nice to see you again”, thinking it better just to get to her office and hole up there until she was ready to go back home.  On the bright side, today her mind would remain busy with work, unable to muse over other things. 

Only a few people popped into the office that morning, mostly for a quick word and nothing more.  It was a blessing that everyone was incredibly swamped as well, unable to take any down time to chat.  Every once in a while, when Y/N wondered if Padmé was off planet yet, or something came in mentioning the assassination, she was practically forced into thinking about Obi-Wan.  With how much he was likely occupied, she thought it would be highly improbable that he was thinking of her at all, even in passing.  His work was important, far more important than her own, demanding diligent, careful attention.  Despite these small reminders of him, they did not stick around like they had last night, remaining fleeting and pulled from her mind when she looked back at her holopad.  

It was the afternoon, the sun over its peak, slowly descending over the city.  A ray shined through the curtainless window, specks of dust revealed in the air which looked almost like falling snow.  Deep in thought, Y/N jumped as the door wooshed open, her head shooting up from the holopad.  As she looked at the door, her breath caught in her throat, making it feel as though she had forgotten how to breathe.  There in her office, Obi-Wan was standing, his brown robe skimming the floor, eyes wide as if he was surprised by his own entrance.  Y/N stood abruptly, her chair pushing out behind her and bumping the wall.  

“Obi-Wan,” she said in shock, or perhaps as a question.  He took a step into the room, then went to take another, though stopped in his tracks. 

“Y/N, I,” he paused, swallowing, “I never got a chance to say goodbye. I’m leaving now, and I am unsure as to when I will return.”

“Oh,” was all she could muster, still paralyzed and unmoving.   

He looked down for a moment, hands clasped together. “It’s been a pleasure,” he said with a small smile.  She didn’t return it, still too stunned to do anything but stare at him.  Obi-Wan promptly turned and left, the door closing behind him.  

She just stood there, her thoughts a thousand miles high.  She questioned if Obi-Wan had really just come into the office or if it was a figment of her imagination, created by her night-long mulling over of the day before.  Her breaths remained shallow as her thoughts caught up to themselves, their summersaults ending with a finale of fireworks erupting between her ears.  She was baffled by his entrance, completely unaware of his motives.  Gradually, all else dropped away but her need to find Obi-Wan, to ask him if had really come back only to say goodbye, or if he had something else to say.  Her mind willed her legs to move, but they stayed still, frozen in time.  

“Come on,” she whispered to herself, not hearing her own voice, “run.”

With that her body finally obeyed, and she rushed to the door, huffing as she pressed the button to open it.  Her feet carried her flying down the hall, not noticing the people who stopped to stare at her along the way.  She skirted around every corner, the white walls and metal doors a single blur like the swipe of a wide paintbrush.  When she came upon the exit to the landing platforms, it was as if the wide door was encased in the glowing light of a new sun, calling her to come through to the other side.  Thankfully, the door was motion censored, saving her the precious few seconds that would be needed to open it.  As she emerged, the sun shined in her eyes, and she placed a hand on her forehead as a shield.  Frantically, she looked around for Obi-Wan, scanning every ship for movement, only to find every ship near to her vacant.  

In the distance, she saw the loading ramp of a ship descend, euphoric at the sight of Obi-Wan’s brown robe.  She began running towards him, sprinting faster as she saw him beginning to board.  Fearing that she would be too late, she called out his name.  Obi-Wan's face was hidden within the ship, though she could see him stop.  He looked down and saw her, though Y/N wasn’t close enough to tell the details of his expression.  As she neared, the realization of what she was doing set in, bringing about a wave of uncertainty.  However, it washed away when she saw Obi-Wan’s face. 

She stood at the base of the ramp, panting from her impromptu workout.  She locked her eyes with Obi-Wan’s, which were soft, brilliantly gleaming as they stared across her face.  Her once racing mind was all but empty, filled only with the serene happiness of having caught Obi-Wan before he took off.  Neither she or Obi-Wan said a word, though he smiled thoughtfully like he had a secret.  Stars, he must think I’m some kind of crazy person.

Despite her lack of shame or uneasiness, she fumbled with her words, not knowing how to express what she wanted to.  

“I,” she began, a doting smile beginning to peek through, “I feel like this is completely foolish,” she paused, bringing her hands up to her face for a moment, “Stars, I just can’t let you leave without telling you.”

“Tell me what?” he murmured, his smile growing slightly more noticeable. 

Her gaze drifted from his, overwhelmed by her boiling face and heart which was beating so fast she ought to be concerned.  Even though she had thought about doing this all last night, running over what she would say and what she would do, the reality of it was unfamiliar territory.  She was flying blind, attempting to find anything that could point her in the right direction.  

Finding a bit of courage left, she glanced back into her eyes, crystal blue and clear.  Within them she saw something new, the knowledge of what he was thinking in this very moment. Without another word or thought, she leapt up the ramp towards him, following all the instincts she had at her disposal.  Throwing her arms around his neck, she crashed her lips to his, a sparkling fuzz running down her spine and into her limbs.  Much differently than last time, Obi-Wan did not hesitate to return her kiss, falling into it along with her.  He held her body to his, pulling her a bit off of the floor and fully into his embrace. Their lips moved as if they had kissed a thousand times, synchronized in each other's affection.  She felt the tickle of his beard against her cheek, his hands gripping her waist tighter as she gasped.  

Breathless, she pulled away, only enough to suck in a gulp of much needed hair.  Obi-Wan did the same, breath uneven and shaky as if he had just been in battle.  Y/N stared into his eyes, watching as their surprise settled into something else, something tender.  A blush had formed upon his cheeks, peeking out from his beard and dotting across his nose.  The rush in her ears was gone, replaced by the low hum of the ship and the soft sound of her hands upon his robes.  She held him tighter, dreading the moment when she would finally have to let go. 

“Will I see you later?” she asked, not bothering to disguise her pleading and desperate tone.  She didn’t know what she was expecting him to do, but his wide grin pleasantly surprised her. 

“Yes,” he said with a long exhale, studying her face.  She grew warm with the attention, even though they had just done much more than look at each other.  Something about his gaze was always so intense, more passionate than she could easily handle.  It was as if flustering her came naturally to him, like he was born to make her shy.

Finally, he slowly set her down, and she relaxed her beskar-like grip she had on his shoulders.  Her hands settled on his chest briefly before falling down at her sides, already missing his touch. She was unsure what to say, but as usual, Obi-Wan was not at a similar loss for words. 

“Perhaps it is the absence, but you’ve grown even more beautiful,” the fondness of his voice did not escape her, bringing about a buzzing feeling in her stomach. 

She felt her knees nearly buckle, growing impossibly weak at his words.  With them, all her fears and worries about herself subsided, and she felt like the most beautiful person in the galaxy.  Forcing herself not to look down at her feet, she gave Obi-Wan a sickly sweet smile, agonized by how much she cared for him in so little time.  He was smiling as well, pleased by her total disarmament.  She longed to tell him how handsome he was, how well he had grown into himself, but she felt the time quickly slipping away.  Knowing he needed to leave soon, she stepped back, still grinning ear to ear.  She bit her lip, giddy with the reemergence of her clandestine romance, now with the promise that Obi-Wan wasn’t gone for good. 

“Be safe,” she said softly, making her way partly down the ramp.  Obi-Wan chuckled, looking self assured as he stood in the entrance of his ship. 

“I always am,” he answered, voice smooth and warm like Gatalentian tea. 

Mustering up every bit of her willpower she had, Y/N turned and walked down the ramp and into the landing platform.  The ramp closed behind her, and she rushed off near the entrance of the Senate building.  She watched as the ship powered up, rising into the air before zooming away all too quickly.  It was bitter to watch him leave, though their parting felt parsecs different than the last time.  From all she knew about him, Obi-Wan was not in the habit of lying, and her chances of seeing him again were close to certain.  With his ship out of sight, Y/N dreamily walked back into the Senate, feeling light as a feather.

[seraphinitegames]

The Wayhaven Chronicles - Update 02/June/2023

I don’t think I’ve ever had a book plan come together as smoothly and as organically as Book Four is shaping up!

Even when I stepped away from the main plan to work out some parts of bigger scenes coming up later in it…they just flowed!!

The variations are slotting into place, and the ideas for how to go about one of the different ways I want to try something just for Book Four is really working!

It feels INCREDIBLE! :D

One of the extra things I did this week too to help was change from planning on lined paper to squared paper. I know, it sounds strange, but it really works for me, hehe!

My brain goes into intense mode when I’m planning with so many ideas, particularly with this book, and I scribble it down as fast as I can to get those thoughts out.

But that can mean it gets very messy, and I struggle to read my own notes sometimes, lol!

Yet for some reason writing on squared/grid paper makes me write SO much neater even when I’m writing super fast!

One of the things I’m gonna do also is start working on the character sheet for the antagonist. They are such a complete character already as the plan has come on that I want to get them down fixed.

That’s one of my tasks for next week, along with social media days and, hopefully, even more super smooth planning!

Hope you all have the most incredible weekend! We’ll be offline as usual so I’ll talk to you again soon!

[bleachbleachbleach]

[Bleach 080]

Things I Love Thinking in Circles About

How big, area-wise, the Seireitei is

What regular Gotei work looks like when we're not looking

What did the early bird VCs do the entire time they were sitting around in Conference Room 2 waiting for people to show up?

--

1. How big, area-wise, the Seireitei is

According to Yoruichi, walking from one gate to the next would take 10 days, which initially makes the Seireitei seem really damn big. The city of Ann Arbor, Michigan has a population of 120,000 people. If we're meant to believe that there are 6000 shinigami (citation: Ooetsu?), I find it difficult to believe that the Seireitei's population would be much larger than 120k, if that. (Personally, I proceed as though it's a lot less than that.) Like the Seireitei, Ann Arbor is also circular, ringed not by a Seireimon but a necklace of Interstates, but it's only like 10 miles across. It really wouldn't take that long to walk 1/4 of the way around its rim.

You'd have to walk around a quarter of the entire country of Spain for it to take 10 days:

Obviously Google is not taking into account tired feet or needing to like, sleep, with this estimate, but STILL. The Seireitei is not the size of SPAIN.

A) Let's say it would really take 10 days. This gate-to-gate trek might need to take terrain into account (which Google sometimes does and often doesn't lol). The area Ichigo et al ended up in seemed pretty civ where the gate matches up with Junrinan, but maybe a shade north and the terrain is much more difficult!

B) Let's say it really would not take 10 days. Yoruichi might have been exaggerating, because she doesn't want to walk to another damn gate and also it's not as though there aren't also shinigami waiting at...the other gates... So she nips that in the bud and directs her party's attentions elsewhere.

Or maybe she knows that even this close to the Seireitei, in Rukongai time gonna wime, and space-time are not going to exist in a constant relationship with each other.

C) Let's say Matsumoto's "half-day" comment probably isn't about geography, either. Half a day would make the Seireitei approximately the size of like, Indianapolis? (population 882k, area 368 sq. miles/950 sq. km) if we were basing it purely on area. But also, shunpou?? So I really feel like the "length of time it would take people to arrive"half day" comment is less a function of physical distance and more about the fact that they're all busy and have tasks they'd need to extricate themselves from before they started walking/running/sauntering/gamboling over.

Which leads me to--

2. What regular Gotei work looks like when we're not looking

I think we've seen enough evidence that the way the Gotei has built itself does not lend itself well to rapid response. Their response to the ryoka invasion was not particularly rapid, nor organized. Their response to AIZEN'S MURDER was nearly non-existent. Winter War prep was also kind of rough, and I guess TYBW 1 was kind of a surprise attack, but I think my point still stands that it's just not their forte. I think part of this is because the Gotei is legitimately just kind of bad at being functional; we all know this. They all know this. I think the other part is that rapid response is very, very hard.

Given that they are heavenly court guards, you'd think rapid response to potential threats would be more of a priority, but you could say that about a lot of real-life things that, in reality, do not work that way (and perhaps cannot, in the absence of radical reinvention). To use a near universal example, see Exhibit C: COVID responses lol. Even outside of that very particular example, I'm part of a direct action organization and even though it's relatively small and its politics are activist-minded, rapid response is still very, very hard.

I just love thinking about, okay, where are the Gotei bottlenecks, what's the red tape, where's the sludge in the workings, where to the capacities fall through, what jobs haven't been invented that they really need, what jobs exist that really shouldn't, how much is logistical, how much is political, how much is cultural, how much is personal? *this is my bulletproof kiiiiiiink*

If it's going to take 4-12 hours to get all the officers in one place, it makes me think that yes, the alarms are going off, but it's a rapid response priority only for those who were assigned to quadrant 6 or whatever. Yes, this meeting call went out, but the threat is not yet at a level where you need to drop everything and haul ass. It's serious, but not more serious than the rippling consequences of ignoring the essential tasks you were already engaged in that are really going to fuck things up in domino-like ways if you don't do them right now.

For Ichigo et al, rescuing Rukia is Priority #1. For the Gotei, the ryoka invasion is this major world event that slammed on top of their already-full calendars of other shit they're supposed to do today. Big meeting? That's great, but it's going to have to wait or else a whole deployment's going to ship out late, the payroll office is going to close before those forms get signed, and Z isn't going to have the Y report that's required in order to start the X project.

3. What did the early bird VCs do the entire time they were sitting around in Conference Room 2 waiting for people to show up?

The meeting was called to address Ichimaru's behavior in dealing (or not dealing) with the ryoka, so we can assume it was called relatively quickly after Yamamoto got wind of that. Renji just took Rukia to Fancy Prison, but it doesn't seem like there's yet been dissemination of an official report, because he doesn't actually know if Ichigo got killed by Ichimaru or not. But the meeting is still going on when the ryoka invade successfully via The Sky.

In the interim, Ichigo et al hung out with the denizens of Junrinan, met Ganju, walked out to bumfuck to find Kuukaku's house, got introduced to the cannon and the cannonballs, practiced with the cannonballs, ate dinner, gained proficiency with the cannonballs, and blasted themselves through the sky.

Which makes it seem like the VCs who got there early literally did have to wait around for half a day before everyone showed up. Keep in mind THEIR MEETING DID NOT EVEN HAVE AN AGENDA. They were just supposed to stage in Conference Room 2!

So what did they do? Did they bring any work with them? Did they shoot the shit for six hours? Play games? Nap?

...Orgy?

(Orgy.)

[iluv4my]

I adore writing like seriously it's a big part of my life. If i skip journaling for a day something feels missing like if i miss even a single thought and forget to write it in my journal i keep thinking about it all day long UNTIL i write that thing in my journal i won't find peace lol.

I enjoy keeping track of everything and taking photos wherever i go. I don't take many selfies because i prefer capturing moments. I want that not a single moment slips away from me during that time so that i can sit again and relive it 🤍

I do it all for my future self so she can look back and be happy that's why i journal every day. Sometimes i spend a whole day writing down my thoughts i keep everything organized in folders on my drive called "The Metamorphosis Of Me" This folder is a record of all my small victories and i give myself tasks for a week and when i complete them i share all those things in a video log about how i accomplished my goals and much more nd both my good and bad moments are saved here in the form of pictures, written notes, video logs i also have some screenshots from the notes app. Whenever i need to quickly dump something from my mind i do it in the notes app then delete it from the app and put it in this drive folder so my future self can see how many good and bad phases I've been through :)

I love myself and take myself very seriously i write in my journal by observing things around me which helps me develop self awareness it also helps in stress reduction, person accountability, improves decision making and enhances my understanding of my emotions <3

My journals are tiny pieces of my self 🥹

[mystic-scorpio]

TRAITS YOU PORTRAY IN YOUR WORK LIFE

[Based on your 10th house sign]

---------------------------------

♈︎ ♉︎ ♊︎ ♋︎ ♌︎ ♍︎ ♎︎ ♏︎ ♐︎ ♑︎ ♒︎ ♓︎

♈︎ ♉︎ ♊︎ ♋︎ ♌︎ ♍︎ ♎︎ ♏︎ ♐︎ ♑︎ ♒︎ ♓︎

---------------------------------

[copyrights reserved ©️mystic-scorpio]

____________________________________

HOW TO FIND YOUR 10th HOUSE PLACEMENTS

- there is nothing like a "10th house sign calculator" in the internet so it's best we do it the traditional way.

-pull up a natal chart calculator site and enter your data.

- I'd recommend:

- Now when that's done, you'll just have to scroll down and find the 10th house sign .

-Good luck! (Not that you'll need it, but yea)

___________________________________

___________________________________

♈︎ 𝔸ℝ𝕀𝔼𝕊 in 10th House

- They are focused and work very hard.

- Inspiring and motivating people is their jam! They make excellent leaders.

- However these people must stay cautious of their impulsive nature.

- They are likely to make rash decisions which can negatively affect their career.

᯽ CAREERS THAT THEY SLAY:

• business man/woman

• members of executive department in any field/industry.

____________________________________

____________________________________

♉︎ 𝕋𝔸𝕌ℝ𝕌𝕊 in 10th House

- They are likely to be dependable, trustworthy, and good with responsibilities—qualities that could help them rise to leadership positions and authority in their chosen profession.

- They possess the valued quality of seeing the big picture, which can be very helpful in whatever profession they choose.

- Most people with this placement WANT money and also MAKE money. (Cha- ching!)

- They can struggle with rigid and obstinate approaches to their professional life/public image.

᯽ CAREERS THAT THEY SLAY :

• banking

• real estate

• financial services

• any kind of art

_____________________________________

_____________________________________

♊︎ 𝔾𝔼𝕄𝕀ℕ𝕀 in 10th House

- Folks who have Gemini in the 10th House love talking and they love to be heard. So, naturally they decide on a career in which they need to talk a lot.

- When it comes to their work, they’re very good at transmitting their ideas and talking about what they’re thinking of.

- This placement can have a flexible and dynamic effect on a person's career and public image.

- They want adaptability, intellectual stimulation, and communication in the career they've chosen.

᯽ CAREERS THAT THEY SLAY :

• writing

• public speaking

• media

_____________________________________

_____________________________________

♋︎ ℂ𝔸ℕℂ𝔼ℝ in 10th House

- Your career is like your second home.

- These folks look for an emotional attachment with the job they do. You wanna enjoy everyday at work doing the things you love.

- You are sensitive to people's opinions and try to create a likeable reputation. However you cannot take criticism sportingly.

- You help others regularly in your professional life, but you may lack ambition sometimes.

᯽ CAREERS THAT THEY SLAY :

• medical careers

• social welfare/ counselling

• education

_____________________________________

_____________________________________

♌︎ 𝕃𝔼𝕆 in 10th House

- These folks have tremendous ambition and HATE working under other people.

- They are great leaders who dominate in a professional setting. (They are that charismatic boss you fall in love with in fanfictions/ rom-coms. Lol.)

- Any position of authority seems to make them want more because they always want to be in charge.

- These folks are interested in building up a good reputation at work and infact, they are highly admired and looked up to.

᯽ CAREERS THAT THEY SLAY :

• entrepreneur

• performing arts or arts in general

• politics

_____________________________________

_____________________________________

♍︎ 𝕍𝕀ℝ𝔾𝕆 in 10th House

- Folks with Virgo in the 10th house are extremely organized, have excellent attention to detail, and have a strong work ethic.

- They excel at any task that calls for precision or perfection.

- Their capacity for problem-solving and analytical thought makes them productive workers. (Having them as your work-mate is a blessing.)

- These folks are known to worry about their image very much, they want to look flawless in front of others.

᯽ CAREERS THAT THEY SLAY :

• personal finance

• engineering

• editorial work

_____________________________________

_____________________________________

♎︎ 𝕃𝕀𝔹ℝ𝔸 in 10th House

- When Libra is in the tenth house, people approach their professional life with harmony, balance, and diplomacy.

- They excel at building cordial rapport with subordinates and superiors. (You know that one guy who's always getting along with everyone perfectly?)

- Those having Libra in the 10th House may choose a profession in which they need to collaborate with others frequently. (...and the best team worker award goes to...)

- These natives have the capability to build a perfect public image.

᯽ CAREERS THAT THEY SLAY :

• corporate lawyer (or any law related jobs)

• counselling

• human resources

• customer service

_____________________________________

_____________________________________

♏︎ 𝕊ℂ𝕆ℝℙ𝕀𝕆 in 10th House

- Folks having Scorpio in 10th house have a never ending motivation to achieve no matter what's going on in their lives.

- When you need to get something done, you make sure you're getting the help that's needed.

- It's a given that you love control. (I'mma act like i didn't see that coming-)

-You don't like chasing the superficial and you have an affinity towards getting to know the human psyche.

᯽ CAREERS THAT THEY SLAY :

• researchers

• investigators

• psychologist

• forensic accountants

_____________________________________

_____________________________________

♐︎ 𝕊𝔸𝔾𝕀𝕋𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕌𝕊 in 10th House

- When Sagittarius is in your 10th House, you are likely to attract many professional opportunities throughout your lifetime and you'll have difficulty committing to one path.

- These folks may have an easygoing approach to their career and even without putting in a lot of effort they are likely to have success. (Remember those students in school who got straight A's without studying? I smell 10th house in Sag.)

- They may experience professional growth in a foreign country.

- You'll have a good reputation at your workplace but might lack discipline.

᯽ CAREERS THAT THEY SLAY :

• managerial positions

• scientist

• writer

_____________________________________

_____________________________________

♑︎ ℂ𝔸ℙℝ𝕀ℂ𝕆ℝℕ in 10th House

- If Capricorn is in your 10th House, you are very ambitious and goal-oriented.

-You view your career as your priority in life and you are willing to put a lot of hard work in order to succeed in it.

-These folks are well-respected by other people and some may view them as authority and fear them.

-People born with Capricorn in the Tenth House are very cautious as far as their career is going.

-They're dutiful and committed to obtaining recognition from others. They want to be powerful and to have a good social position more than they want money.

᯽ CAREERS THAT THEY SLAY :

• CEO or manager

• doctor

• property owner, financial manager or banker

_____________________________________

_____________________________________

♒︎ 𝔸ℚ𝕌𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕌𝕊 in 10th House

- Folks born with Aquarius in the Tenth House prefer to work in teams, so they can be found in big corporations or doing things in organizations.

-They want a good reputation and to be known as steady, eccentric and smart.

-Aquarius in the 10th House tends to give people the sense that they want to change the world for better. For example you may be concerned about technological advancement, human rights, and individual freedom.

- They're usually really fun to work with.

᯽ CAREERS THAT THEY SLAY :

• astrology or astronomy

• computer science, space science

• engineering

• politics

_____________________________________

_____________________________________

♓︎ ℙ𝕀𝕊ℂ𝔼𝕊 in 10th House

- These folks have several talents and are good at many things, but no one can beat them when it comes to spreading messages to the world. For this reason, many artists have Pisces in their Tenth House.

-Pisces in the 10th house means that your originality, as well as your ability to dream, create, and empathize with others is the foundation of your professional reputation.

- However these natives are known to run away from responsibility and do not respect any obligation. Therefore it can often be estimated how long the career of someone born with Pisces in 10th House is going to last in a particular place.

᯽ CAREERS THAT THEY SLAY :

• artist, dancer, actor.

• musicians or singer

• acupuncturist or naturopathic physician.

• counselor or psychologist.

_____________________________________

_____________________________________

NOTE: your career traits maybe be influenced by other factors on your birth chart as well.

A/N: that's it for today, see you in the next blog!

[hu5kay]

What it’s like living with Autism and ADHD as an Adult;

Surfaces? Cluttered with random shit, literally no organization anywhere ever

Able to watch an entire series, not remember a damn thing. Don’t even bother to remember names of the characters either

Speaking of names? What’s your name again? I know you told me 50 times already I’m sorry.

I collect Accents in my brain like they are fucking Pokémon cards

Books, movies, albums, games everywhere. Never read, watched, maybe listened to a single song, played that game for 20 minutes and never played it again. More decorations I guess.

Wait, y’all have consistent diets and workout plans? I could never.

Did I pay that bill? *checks my reminders, forgot to set the reminder*

Sorry I didn’t reply to your text, I read it and replied in my head but forgot to type and send it

Rereading an entire chapter cause while reading a certain passage my mind wandered again

I absolutely hate a lot of those “ADHD Lifehack” videos. They don’t work lol

Annoyed by basic human interaction while craving it at the same exact time

Know what a Social Meter is? I memorized mine

Phone calls are terrifying unless I’m 100% comfortable with you. Even then it sometimes can be overstimulating

RIP to all my plants I got when I was hyperfixating on them and forgot about them

I can determine if I want to be friends with you based on a small conversation when we meet. Majority of people I don’t consider friends and will only talk to them to pass time.

A part of my body has to constantly be moving or I get anxiety, fuckin weird amirite

When I’m hyperfixated on a certain hobby, I go hard until I literally burn myself out. I know I do it but I physically can’t stop myself until I’m burnt out. Will probably resume it in a few months though.

Self care means nothing to me

Watching a show that’s more than two seasons is very difficult

I’m able to completely forget about people for months. No I don’t do this on purpose. Lost a lot of friends this way. It hurts to be honest but I understand.

My aesthetic can change QUICK. For example: I can have a 80s style phase, punk or alternative phase, responsible adult phase, outdoorsman phase, and pretty much every style you can think of in the course of a week.

People think I’m fake because I can relate to most things and interests

I can stare off and think of something in depth, forget about it as soon as become aware of my surroundings. (Intense daydreams)

I was labeled as lazy growing up. I literally tried to be the best I could but I mentally couldn’t do anything after school no matter how much I tried.

The fear of never knowing what I want career wise cause my wants change frequently

I have a talent of figuring out other people are autistic based if they are like me in the slightest way. I’m right about 60 to 70% of the time. I don’t tell them though.

I’m easily overwhelmed by basic adult tasks. Can be as simple as dishes or laundry. Bills are debt are a nightmare

The future honestly terrifies me. Good or bad, I naturally stress about everything. No idea why. Planning with me is a nightmare

When I say I don’t care, I genuinely don’t care. I’m not being mean, I’m just passive cause options overwhelm me.

There’s a ton more but if I keep going I’ll get off track more than I already have.

[ginoeh]

For @xenomorphic-warrior for the Dreamling Winter Exchange 2023! I hope I managed to hit enough of your likes, favs and ideas to make this enjoyable for you <3 this was supposed to be 3k. i failed miserably lol

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

An Inn and the World's End

~ A Winter Tale ~

Summary: An Inn stands bright and warm in a world of snow and ice and twilight. The Innkeeper is no hero but when Death comes calling, he takes what any hero does - a guide, a companion and a magical weapon - and takes up the task to find the Nightking at the edge of the world.

Rating: T

CW: none

Length: 8.9k

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

A curious stillness lies over the Inn. The sounds of howling storms and wolves have fallen quiet. The crackling of snow and ice, part of nature's symphony, are absent.

Hob stands at the counter, swiping off the last few glasses and mugs.

Sometimes feels as if there's never anything else he's doing. He sighs as he puts them into their cupboards and shelves and slings the damp dishrag over his shoulder. The Inn is empty of patrons this far into the night, except for one snoring gentleman by the fire. The glow of the fireplace throws the shadows into sharp flickering relief. The lamplight above the bar cradles the Inn like a warm blanket.

Outside, Hob knows, there's nothing but twilit darkness and the cold. It's always been like that, as far as Hob remembers. So it catches him by surprise sometimes, this yearning for warmth and light, when he has never experienced much of either.

This is a world of snow and storms and wolves, after all.

So why is it still?

Hob's Inn, beyond the muted sounds of the world outside that lose some of their horror as soon as the thick door closes behind any traveler, is made of crackling fire, creaking wood and clinking earthenware. Above that lies the susurration of voices and stories and songs, all bathed in the golden lights of the many lamps Hob never fails to light.

The folk that comes by and tracks puddles of melting snow and despair across his wooden floors, tell him stories of the world outside. They tell him of empty landscapes and abandoned dwellings, of the hunger and the wolves that roam free. Some like Gilbert, an old and long since vanished patron, tell other stories; those tales speak of the Nightking that once was Lord and protector of these lands and who vanished in times before memory. Others whisper tall tales of beasts and monsters that were set free by a cruel and dispassionate King; horrors that rose in the wake of uncaring abandonment.

Hob dislikes these latter stories despite the frequency with which they come up. He knows - knows it in the marrow of his bones as surely as he knows he must keep the lights on in the Inn - that they are untrue, that the lands aren't frozen and uninhabitable due to cruelty.

Still, he serves all folk; he's just the Innkeeper after all, always here, always waiting.

He's not exactly sure what he's waiting for, though. Mabe just the next stranger that comes through the door.

Find the rest on AO3 !

[muzzleroars]

Where in the timeline do you think god died? My best guess would be soon after the crucifixion/resurrection/ascension considering the whole plan behind that was the atonement of all humanity's sins (which would also deny Hell new souls) using his own aspect (the son) as the perfect sacrifice.

Yet it failed, humanity is still wrong and Hell is still being fed, and he can't claim humanity is beyond saving because he's god! there could be no more pefect of a lamb to wipe away his humanities mistakes than himself!, but the son lived among them for so long and got to understand them on a level that he could never do as god and upon rejoining the trinity brings this knowledge and allows for the realisation that was he was the problem, he can't fix sin because he himself is nowhere close to the perfection he demands from all of his creation. And I think that would cause all the cracks to finally break.

This would mean that Mary would live her life, ascend to Heaven to find it in chaos with her son nowhere to be found.

This would also give quite a long time for Lust and Greed to build themselves up before Heaven sorts itself out, 2000 years is a long time for a human but not much for a husk and even less for an angel.

I hope this all makes sense!

ouuuugghhh this is interesting, because i think this can work from a scriptural sense - though there is no appointed time for the second coming, some of the gospels could be interpreted as suggesting it would happen within the contemporary generation. however, it's wholly possible here that the son changed this timeline and ran everything off the rails entirely because of what he saw and learned in his human life. human life is fill to the brim with complexity, with ambiguity, with strife and joy sometimes all at once, and being so infinitely limited in their scope and with such a short existence, i think his ideas just. shifted. sinners are often stuck in situations they didn't choose, they are often powerless and rendered unable to change through stigma, and he knows this because so many transformed instantly when all he did was offer them a bit of help and compassion. yes, there are cruel and wicked people, those that worsen the existence of others for their own gains, but so many that he once condemned as god, sinners of necessity, of ignorance, of mistake, he could no longer see evil in. and so when the trinity is reunited, when the son returns to the father and the holy spirit, he is not in sync with them. this is ultimately what i see as the reason for god's destruction, that the holy spirit, analytical as always, interprets god himself as the problem and so self-destructs essentially.

and it makes sense in the timeline capacity too, for lust to have been so built up, would take....a VERY long time if you consider all the components that had to come together to do this. they would first need to get used to the lower rate of angels, which may be a pretty long period before it reaches the point where they realize their presence has been permanently drastically reduced. then minos would have to be able to organize the people, which seems a difficult task since so many are traumatized or reduced to their husk instincts (i tend to think lesser husks have the capacity to be much more human, but the environment doesn't allow it). finally, he (and i assume other greater/supreme husks) would need to plan, to mine resources, to acquire the materials necessary and work their technology from the ground up all in the hostile world of hell (unless it was too interested in their trajectory and granted a reprieve. just to see what happens lol) to have this functioning society with a massive city that's all now left in the past would take incredible amounts of time. and like you say, 2000 years is long on a human scale, but likely very little to the immortal angels of heaven.

i sort of have the idea that many of the angels, particularly human-born ones, were kept in the dark about god's disappearance. it would be easy enough, i think, as he is likely rather distant from them and the new arrivals wouldn't know the difference but....it's an impossible sell to someone like mary or the apostles. it's likely that gabriel would have been the one to inform them of the situation, especially when it comes to mary - he was the annunciator, and additionally he is depicted perpetually adoring her in dante's paradiso. yet even he cannot tell this mother where her son has gone, and it quietly tears him apart. he wants to believe in the eternal existence of god, that he is all things, yet informing mary of his absence makes him see the all too familiar grief reflected in her eyes. all of it was too good to be true, she thinks, and gabriel begins to consciously think the same. all of it was always too good to be true.