#But if you wan to know about an older one . Go a head and ask!

[familyofpaladins]

I have reached 500 followers! :D

my poll for what I should do to celebrate winner was "Give more details on an au/fic idea I mentioned and then never talked about again"

So!

I can talk about multiple or all of these (and ones I missed if you remind me of them). I just want to see if there is a particular one people are wanting to hear about

Seriously, if there's something you remember me mentioning and want to know more about it, let me know! :) theres been a lot I've talked about ever the years and cant put all in the

[saphronethaleph]

Literary Illusions

“It’s ironic,” Palpatine said, shaking his head. “He could save others from death, but not himself.”

Anakin frowned.

“And this is something the Jedi wouldn’t have told me?” he asked.

“Of course not,” Palpatine replied. “Is it a story you’ve heard?”

“Well, yes,” Anakin said. “Just now, from you. But not before then… and that surprises me, Chancellor.”

Palpatine shrugged. “I think you’ll find, Anakin, that the Jedi have not been telling you everything.”

“Maybe not, but… honestly, that sounds like exactly the kind of thing they’d tell me,” Anakin said.

Palpatine frowned.

“...what?” he asked.

“You know,” Anakin said. “Some Sith Lord works out how to bring people back to life from the dead, but his apprentice kills him and doesn’t bring him back to life because the Sith are inherently self destructive. If the two of them had worked together and been able to trust one another, they’d have been immortal.”

He shrugged. “It’s a good illustration of the inherently self destructive nature of the Dark Side, and it’s the dichotomy of how the Dark Side leads you to seek power in order to achieve goals that you then discard as irrelevant, because they’re not directly related to gaining power… hold on a second.”

Palpatine was a little distracted by trying to avoid mentally kicking himself, so it took him somewhat more than a second to notice what Anakin was doing.

“...Anakin?” he said. “Are you getting your comlink out?”

“Yeah,” Anakin replied. “Going to text Obi-Wan, ask him what he thinks of the story. Maybe there’s some kind of detail I missed which makes it less of a good illustration of the different worldviews and mindsets of the Jedi and the Sith.”

The Knight shrugged, his thumbs tapping away at his comlink. “He probably knows it, he knows all of the old stories.”

Palpatine blinked several times.

“...don’t,” he said, then very discreetly scrambled for a reason why. “It’s the middle of a performance. We don’t want to interrupt them.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s on silent,” Anakin replied, with a shrug. “Or vibrate. Did I put it on vibrate… hang on, Chancellor, I’ll make sure it’s on silent…”

He turned the comlink over, then a loud bwing sounded.

“Oh, right, I forgot to set it to do not disturb mode,” Anakin said. “Hang on… uh… yeah, there we go, I forgot I added all these custom modes. I’ve been missing a lot of sleep lately.”

“Perhaps-” Palpatine began, but Anakin spoke over him.

“Huh,” he said. “He says he’s never heard of it either. Wants to know where I heard about it, it looks like he’s really interested… or maybe he’s trying to tell me about a death stick vendor, he’s terrible with multiglyphs and he thinks he’s good at them.”

Anakin glanced at the Chancellor, hoping for some solidarity, then visibly noticed that the Chancellor was several decades older than him and abandoned that.

“Is there a book I can get the whole story from?” he asked, instead. “Obi-Wan is better at nuances, like I say.”

“That is not the point,” Palpatine said, trying not to get visibly angry. “The point is that there is a way to save your loved ones!”

“Maybe there used to be, but not any more,” Anakin shrugged. “Like you said, this was a Sith thing and the Sith are all dead. Well, unless General Grievous is a Sith who knows how to heal people, but I doubt it given how much he got hurt, and I’m not sure Dooku knew it either… hey, if this story needs to be publicized more then maybe we could have them do a play of that instead?”

Palpatine blinked several times, as he tried to keep up with a Jedi with possible undiagnosed ADHD and found himself discovering a lack of talent for podracing.

“What?” he asked.

“You know, a play,” Anakin explained. “Dramatic betrayals, lost loved ones, it would probably do numbers. It’d be better than this, anyway.”

He waved his hand at the ongoing performance of Squid Lake.

“...what is wrong with Squid Lake?” Palpatine said, before reflecting that that had really been a stupid question for him to ask and that he should have asked a much better one.

“Well, uh,” Anakin began, looking a bit abashed. “Actually now I say it out loud this might be really culturally insensitive of me, but to me this play might as well be eighty minutes of people boasting about having enough water to swim in.”

“It’s a ballet,” Palpatine told him, now completely having lost control of the conversation.

“It’s just a less scary version of Sarlacc Pit,” Anakin went on. “Someone tried to drown me in a lake once, because they thought I couldn’t swim, but floating on sand is much harder, you barely have to do anything to escape a lake. You just float.”

Very belatedly, Anakin caught sight of Palpatine’s look of total befuddlement, and shrugged.

“Watto was a lot of things,” he said. “But he had culture.”

Palpatine’s hands twitched, as he very seriously considered the idea of abandoning literal centuries of Sith planning and decades of personal political advancement in favour of stabbing Anakin somewhere it would hurt.

It was extraordinarily tempting.

“...hold on,” Anakin said, slowly. “I guess… the thing I’d like most at the moment is for… and that means… this is literally one of those times when I could fall to the Dark Side because of it, like Darth Plagueis.”

He bestowed a grateful smile on Palpatine. “Thanks, Chancellor! I need to make a call, I guess the ballet won’t mind.”

Palpatine was so thrown by the swerve that he couldn’t think of a way to stop Anakin in the few seconds he had.

“Love?” Anakin said, into his commlink. “I… think we need to come clean, because otherwise I’ll fall to the Dark Side.”

Palpatine’s eye twitched.

[zepskies]

This is more of a Sam and Dean request than a reader and Dean request but what about Sam having a crush on Dean's gf? How would he react to that, I am honestly CRAVING angst and this is the angstiest, is that a word, thing I could think of, I am so sorry if you don't like angst or this makes you uncomfortable!!!

Oh my God. You killed me with this one, hun. 😫😫 I have another SB imagine coming next week, but I thought I'd put out this one for Dean to break it up a bit.

Pairing: Dean W. x Reader, one-sided Sam W. x Reader Word Count: 1,500

Imagine: You are Dean's one exception.

Sam knows it's wrong.

You're smart, with a degree in history that aids them well on hunts.

You're sharp, with a smart mouth that rivals Dean's (and keeps him on his toes).

But you're also kind. You take care of him and Dean with all the feminine grace and care they've never had in their lives.

Sam realizes it when he's up until 3 a.m. in the bunker's War Room. He's sat at the table, researching, eyes bleary, hands cramping from turning pages. And he finds a mug of hot tea sliding next to his idle hand on the table.

You're there with a smile and a hand on his shoulder. "Workin' hard or hardly working?"

Sam clears his throat and nods, chuckles a little. "I'm good." He eyes the mug. "Thanks, though I might need something stronger."

You eye him with gentle reproach. "Nope. Green tea is better for you this late at night. You really should go to sleep, Sam."

Sam tacitly agrees, but only because he can feel the warmth of your hand through his clothing, and it makes his face warmer than the tea. He watches you walk away, notices the curve of your ass in those little shorts. He can imagine your warm hands on his body, caressing him. He can imagine letting his lips graze your skin, exploring you, then devouring you.

And that's when his thoughts stutter to a halt. Sam inwardly cringes.

Despite his sleep-deprived brain, he's reminded that you're traveling down the hall to the room you share with his brother, and for Sam, it's nothing short of torture.

Because he realizes then that he isn't just fond of you. He doesn't love you like an older brother, or even a quasi-brother-in-law. He wants you.

Again, Sam knows it's wrong...but he can't help it. It's one of the saddest cliches in the fucking book. You're his brother's girl, and he wants you for himself.

And it's getting harder to hide it from Dean. They know each other too well -- a result of having no one but each other, but more practically, having lived in such close quarters for so long before they discovered the bunker.

When Sam gets hurt on a hunt, the cut is at a bad angle. He can't quite reach, so you dutifully come around and gently move his hand out of the way to do the stitch yourself. You tsk at him in playful disappointment. "I swear, it's a wonder you and Dean aren't walking patchwork quilts at this point."

Sam chuckles through his nose, wincing when the movement pulls on the stitch. You shoot him a stern look. "Stop moving."

"You're the one making me laugh!" he says, smiling incredulously.

"I don't accept excuses," you retort. "Keep still, please."

"Yes, ma'am," Sam says, his breath hitching for a different reason as he feels your soft hands along his side. He plays it off as pain. "Sorry," you murmur more sincerely. He tells you it's okay. His gaze flicks up, unconsciously finding Dean's face across the room.

He's just finished cleaning a cut on his hand. But he's been watching; Sam can tell. Dean's too perceptive not to notice Sam's discomfort. He probably even knows why. Sam can see a glint of it in Dean's eyes, the stoic front of his face.

"There we go!" you say in satisfaction, and you pat Sam's bare arm. He gives you a wan smile. "Thanks."

"You done, sweetheart?" Dean asks. You get up from your seat by Sam. "What do you need?" you ask.

"You. Come 'ere," he says with a smile, giving you a beckoning finger. "I felt that knot on the back of your head earlier. Think you're slick?"

You huff, but you also smile, in the way you only do for Dean. Sam watches you get up and go to Dean, who touches your cheek, stroking with a thumb first. Then he parts your hair to inspect the back of your head, and you wince a bit. You did fall pretty hard, now that Sam thinks of it. He frowns.

Dean lets out a deep breath. "You've got a nasty bump. You're taking it easy tonight, got it?"

"Yeah? Gonna help me relax?" you whisper. But Sam still hears you, because apparently no one taught you how the hell to whisper.

Dean smirks. "Watch it. I'll think you're flirting with me."

You give him a coy smile as your hand travels up his chest, between the open edges of his plaid shirt, then all the way down, to tease at his belt. "Believe me, when I do, you'll be the first one to know."

Dean's smirk deepens, but his eyes are softer. He closes a hand around yours and brings it to his lips. You lean up and request, wordlessly, for a kiss. Dean obliges you, capturing your lips with a soft kiss.

He eventually breaks from you, only to press his lips to your forehead next, closing his eyes with a sigh. He doesn't like it when you try to hide your injuries from him. You just don't want him to worry so much.

You smile and rest against his chest afterwards. It's clear as day what your heart holds.

It's hard for Sam to watch. His throat constricts, but he takes pains to avert his gaze.

He's so full to the brim with this that he sees no other recourse. He catches Dean alone in the kitchen and tries to make a confession. "Dean, we need to talk."

"Can it wait 'til I'm done?" Dean's plating up some stovetop mac and cheese -- your favorite.

"You're done cooking," Sam points out. Dean looks up at him. "We're doing a little dinner in bed situation. I made her promise to take it easy."

Sam admires the way Dean takes care of you. He really does. But it's also like a small oyster knife twisting in his gut. "Good. I'm glad," is all he says. "Yeah, we can talk later."

"Later" doesn't come for a long time. Weeks, in fact. But every time he tries to broach the problem, Dean finds a way to wiggle out of having the conversation. Always a distraction. A hunt. A fire you almost started in the kitchen. Being "in the middle" of something -- something in the bedroom that you insist needs Dean's immediate attention. Sam gives up for a while after that.

But Winchesters are nothing if not goddamn stubborn. Sam finally catches Dean alone in his room for once. You've gone to the grocery store, leaving the brothers alone in the bunker, but not for long, so Sam needs this chance.

"Dean, can we talk?"

Dean looks up at his brother from where he sits on the edge of his bed. He taps his knee, releases a breath. They both know what this is.

"Are you gonna do more than talk?" Dean asks. It's not what Sam expects. "What?"

"Whatever's on your mind, are you ever gonna do something about it?" Dean asks.

Sam stares back at his brother. He thinks. Hard. He's flipped back and forth for months. If he tells you how he feels, it's over. Things will never be the same between the three of you. It'll confuse you. It might even hurt you. It'll hurt Dean. Sam loves you both, if in very different ways.

So Sam is a bit deflated when he raises his resigned gaze and meets his brother's. "No."

After a moment, Dean nods. "Then we've got nothing to talk about."

But... Sam wants not to want you. Not to love you. Deep, deep down, a large chunk of him feels that he shouldn't have to hide himself. That you have a right to know the depths of what he feels, and what he feels for you.

"I see you're not convinced," Dean says dryly. Sam is silent, until Dean sighs and beckons him over. Sam obliges and sits down next to his older brother, the man he's looked up to (at least metaphorically) his whole life.

"I'd give my life for you. You know that. Right, Sammy?" Dean says. "If I couldn't tear the world apart, I'd lay myself out flat."

Sam sighs. "Dean..." Of fucking course he knows that. Dean already had given his life for him once. Remembering that only adds to Sam's guilt.

Dean meets Sam's gaze directly then. "But this is where I draw the line. She's my line," he says. His face is almost stoic, but his eyes are filled with unyielding fire. "I'm not layin' down on that. Not for you. Not for anyone."

Sam's heart clenches with every kind of pain, but he's also never respected his brother more. He nods. "I get it."

"No, you really fucking don't," Dean says. He's more than serious. "I mean it, Sam. I'll break your damn nose."

After a long moment, Sam nods. He knew Dean loved you. Of course he did. But this is the first time Sam truly understands how deeply. How completely. It's more than jealousy can fathom.

Sam realizes then that he lost, even before he began.

AN: Whew! 😮‍💨 I got way deeper into this than I expected to. Poor Sam. 😭 But I hope this scratched your angsty itch, my dear!

Read the Sequel

Here's the requested sequel to this: Sam crosses the line.

Also, if you want to read the reverse of this (Dean is in love with Sam's girlfriend): Dean gives you an impossible choice.

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean Tag List:

@hobby27 @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesdeanvessel @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @emily-winchester @deans-baby-momma @melancholictearz @luvs4dria @nic-kolas @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @tipthejar @ajjustice @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin

@theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @mrshalverson2021 @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @waters-2567 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @beskarfilms @skyesthebomb @deans-spinster-witch @tmb510 @iamsapphine

[enviedear]

BILLY HEADCANNONS PLS HES FHE LOML

billy the kid hc's

request

— he’s a genuine sweetheart in general, but with you, he seems exalted by your presence. because he is. 

— he’d devote his life to you, i know it. he’ll always have his yearning for justice, but it’s you he lives for.

“c’mere honey, let me help you.” / “the boys wanted me to go practicin’ with ‘em, but you look too damn pretty to say goodbye to.”

— if he’s playing cards, better believe he’s both playing for you and your honor. billy doesn’t mind losing, but when you’re around he’d rather get bitten by a rattlesnake than meet defeat.

you’d be nervous he’d waste all his money, “that was pure luck, billy! come on, pack up and take me home.”   he’d smile at you, lovestruck expression in his eyes, “yes ma’am.”

— i see him falling pretty quick for you. he’d also be quick to figure out his own feelings. 

— he’d be cleaning the barrel of his gun, staring at the stars, and realize that it can’t be normal for his mind to drift to you so much.

— billy will find any excuse to ride into town and see you. someone needs something from the general store, he’s offering to go. the boys want to drink their lives away at the saloon, billy will tag along. anything, to see you.

— he’d love listening to you talk. it could be about anything too, he’d listen so intently with a little grin on his lips. 

“what’d y'do then, honey?”

— better believe that if you’re billy’s girl, no one is messing with you. if they do, they’re a dead man. he’d try his hardest to be just with his retribution, he’d never blow a man’s brains out just for speaking with you— but let them touch you with any immoral intentions and he wouldn’t even hesitate. 

you try to pry the older man’s fingers away from your waist, head twisting away from his puckered lips, “let me go!” he ignores you, pushing you further into the secluded bars’ wall. “get your fucking hands off of 'er!” billy’s voice cuts through your terror, warming your heavy heart.  the man drops you, backing away from you as fast he can. you look to billy, he’s got his anger bubbling up underneath his loving gaze, “run outside, darlin’. m’just gonna talk to our friend here.”

— he’d swear to settle down with you, and he’d mean it. he’d start saving and everything. he’d start the beginnings of establishing himself as a true gentleman for you. 

“see that ranch o’there?” he asks, pointing to the serene homestead in the distance.  you nod and he smiles, “m’gonna set us up with one. one day. for my pretty lady.”

— he’d sing for you, if you ever ask. mostly just beautiful irish songs he remembers his momma singing him. 

— speaking of his momma, he’d be very scared if you ever got sick. even if it’s nothing too serious, he’s fretting over you and calling the doctor back before the man’s even left the property. 

— i also seeing billy singing to you when he’s drunk. coming over to your place, being loud, causing you to shush him. 

“wan’ sing to you, honey! be practicin’ since i left the bar!”

— billy will take you riding with him any chance he gets, if you need to clear your mind or get out of town for a little, billy is offering himself and his horse.

"packed us some food, 'case you wanna stay out."

— the gunslinger would generally try to be realistic. he knows he should be, living where he does. but when it comes to you, he's completely romantic. if your pretty eyes are on his he can't help but to think that everything's going to be okay.

[munson-blurbs]

The ending was adorable 🥹 Everyone is going to ask for the proposal and the wedding and all that amazing stuff… but I really want to see the Disney trip and Wayne on Its a Small World 😂

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: The whole Munson clan embarks on their first trip to Disney World; as expected, it's filled with both magic and mayhem.

WC: 1.8k

A/N: Also requested by @tvserie-s-world!

June 2002

The Munson chaos, as it turns out, is not limited to Hawkins. It tags along everywhere, including family vacations.

Especially family vacations.

“Babe, where’s the sunscreen?” “I wanna see Mickey!” “Ed, have you seen my hat?” “I’m hungry!”

Taking a deep breath, you toss Eddie the bottle of Coppertone, remind Harris that you actually had to get to the Magic Kingdom before seeing any of the characters, find Wayne’s ball cap in the bottom of his suitcase, and scrounge up a baggy of Cheerios for Hendrix. 

“Okay, are we ready to go?”

Your question is met with an emphatic chorus of yeses as the five of you leave the hotel room and make a beeline for the shuttle bus. 

Eddie tries to scoop Hendrix into his arms; try as he might, your two-year-old’s chubby legs just can’t carry him very far, very fast. He scrunches up his face and squirms out of Eddie’s grasp. 

“Wan’ walk!” Hendrix pouts, lower lip jutting out in sheer defiance. 

An exasperated sigh escapes Eddie’s lips. “There’s gonna be a lot of walking later, buddy.” But he knows there’s no sense in arguing, and he settles for holding the boy’s hand. He’s heard tales of Disney meltdowns, but he was hoping to avoid one before the day even started. 

The Florida heat is no joke. It envelops you like a casing, and you’re grateful for the air conditioned bus. Everyone sits down, Hendrix on your lap, and you lean in to discuss the day’s plans. 

“So,” you begin, “I really want to get a picture of all of us in front of the castle. After that, we can split up. I know Harris wants to ride Space Mountain—”

“And Splash Mountain and Big Thunder,” he interjects, a seriousness in his eyes. As though you could have forgotten—all he’s talked about for weeks are those three rides. 

You nod in acknowledgment. “One thing at a time.” The reminder is gentle, a nudge to keep him focused on a single goal so he didn’t overwhelm himself. Turning back to the group, you continue the rundown. “Wayne, you’re fine taking Hendrix on a few rides by yourself?”

The older man grins. “Can’t wait to have that damn doll song stuck in my head.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie raise his hand. 

“Yes?”

“I’m actually gonna sit Space Mountain out,” he says, sheepishness seeping into his cheeks. “So I can go with Wayne and Hendrix, and then we can all meet up after.”

Harris looks at his father in bewilderment. “Dad, are you afraid?”

“N-No!” Eddie sputters, sighing when you shoot him a glare that tells him to be honest. “I mean, yeah, a little. But you and Mom should still go on it.”

“It’s just you and me, kiddo.” You smile at Harris and return to the task at hand. “And then we’ll all go on the Peter Pan ride together before we grab lunch.”

Everyone nods in agreement, though you know that actually executing the idea will be much more of a challenge. You take the win for now, climbing off of the bus with Hendrix in your arms with the rest of the family behind you.

A jovial melody surrounds you as you enter the Magic Kingdom, putting some extra pep in your step. You feel the excitement building; not just from the boys, but from the adults, too. Neither Eddie nor Wayne have been here before, and they’re just as eager to start the vacation.

Your breath hitches as you make your way down Main Street, U.S.A. and Cinderella Castle finally comes into view.

“I’ll be damned,” Wayne mutters under his breath, his voice breaking slightly. “Looks just like the movie.”

You reach out and take Eddie’s hand, squeezing it gently as the five of you take in the sight. Tears blur your vision, and you can only imagine that Eddie’s experiencing the same.

We did it. We’re at Disney World with our family.

You manage to stave off the tears long enough to ask a Cast Member to snap a photo with your disposable Kodak camera. 

“Say cheese!” The woman chirps with a smile of her own, and you all comply–even Wayne.

As soon as the shutter clicks, the usual pandemonium resumes. Harris is tugging on your hand and dragging you towards Tomorrowland. 

“Remember, Har,” you say, “we might have to wait in line for a while.” It’s a concept you thoroughly went over prior to the trip, but it never hurts to remind him.

Since you’d started out early, the queue isn’t terribly long; nothing that can’t be handled with a few rounds of I Spy. Before you know it, you’re boarding your tiny rocketship right behind Harris. The ten-year-old is practically bouncing out of his seat, and you’re more than grateful for the lap bar holding him in place.

Harris squeals with delight at each banked turn, even putting his hands in the air as he gets braver towards the end of the ride. Adrenaline buzzes through him when the ride comes to a stop, and he darts for the exit.

“Wait for me!” You call out, and he pauses until you get your very not ten-year-old body out of the cramped vehicle. It used to be a lot easier to stand up when you were his age, but you eventually catch up with Harris to head to Fantasyland.

What you find there is the last thing you would have imagined.

Eddie walks out of one of the myriad gift shops, with Hendrix in his arms and Wayne beside both of them. Your younger son has a pair of Mickey Mouse ears on his head, and one in his hands–for Harris, you assume–but what’s out of the ordinary is what the men are wearing.

“Oh…my…god!” You cackle, and Harris joins you when he sees his dad and grandpa wearing matching tall Goofy hats, the floppy ears swaying against their cheeks.

Eddie grins, doing a small spin that proves more difficult when carrying a two-year-old. “How do we look?” He asks.

Stifling further laughter, you shake your head. “Incredible.” When you reach him, you give him a quick peck on the lips. “I’ve never been more attracted to you than I am right now.”

“I think that says more about you than it does me, Sweetheart.”

Harris takes his souvenir from his little brother and slides the string under his chin. Both of them look absolutely precious, and you snap another picture before either can protest.

“Oh, one last thing.” Eddie reaches into a mouse-printed bag and pulls out a gold plastic tiara, covered in glitter with a photo of Belle in the center. He carefully places it atop your head and you secure it against your scalp. “There,” he murmurs, “pretty like a princess.”

A warmth settles into you that is unrelated to the humidity. You swear you could gaze into his eyes for an eternity, losing yourself in the hazel flecks that accentuated the chocolate irises—

“It’s Mickey!”

You follow where Hendrix is pointing; sure enough, the world’s most famous mouse was walking to a designated spot, flanked by an entourage of handlers. It’s the opposite direction of Peter Pan’s Flight, but you’re not about to compete with Mickey Mouse himself. 

Hendrix’s jubilation wanes as he gets closer to the character, chubby fingers digging into Eddie’s biceps. When he reaches the front of the line, he begins outright wailing, face buried in his dad’s shirt. 

Frowning, you try to peel him away. “Hendrix, it’s our turn!” You tell him, trying to rebuild the excitement with no success. “Don’t you wanna meet Mickey?”

“Too scary!” He sobs, his little body shaking with fear. 

You look at your husband, pushing away the urge to freeze up and throw a tantrum of your own. “Okay, I’ll take Hendrix; you and Wayne stay with Har—”

But Harris is faster, nudging between you and Eddie to place a hand on his brother’s back. “Hen, you don’t have to be scared. I’m gonna be right there with you.” He glances at Mickey, then back at Hendrix. “I know he’s a lot bigger than on TV, but he’s not going to hurt you.”

The crying subsides, save for a few hiccups. Hendrix sloppily wipes at his damp cheeks and holds his arms out so Harris can take him. They walk hand-in-hand, the youngest Munson glued to his big brother’s side. 

Harris waves at Mickey, imploring Hendrix to do the same. He obliges, albeit timidly, but there’s no mistaking the joyful giggle that escapes him when Mickey returns the gesture. 

Eddie laces his fingers with yours, metal rings warm from the summer sun. “Can you get a picture of this?” You nod and reluctantly let go of him, forever capturing the moment with the click of a button. 

The rest of the day is spent waiting in line, riding attractions with colorful scenery, scarfing down Mickey-shaped food items, and taking a much-needed midday nap at the hotel. The sleep recharges you enough to head back out to the park after dinner.

The sun begins to set, though the temperature barely drops a single degree. Your group finds a bench right outside Liberty Square. Wayne sits with Hendrix on his lap, Eddie next to him, and you take a seat at the end. Harris stays standing, leaning against the wooden back only to help him get his jumps out. 

“Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls!” A cheerful disembodied voice comes over the park’s sound system. “Our fireworks presentation, Fantasy in the Sky, is about to begin. Thank you!”

You dig in your bag and pull out some wax earplugs for Harris. Hendrix extends his hand for his own pair, always wanting to be just like his big brother. 

Fireworks light up the sky, bright pink and blue and green hues that leave wispy trails of smoke in their wake. Harris keeps his fingers pressed to his ears to block out any additional noise, but it doesn’t detract from the smile on his face. 

Perhaps the only person more enamored with the show is Wayne. The lights illuminate his awe-struck face, mouth agape, as though he’s in disbelief of the magic surrounding him. 

Eddie leans down to kiss your forehead and you rest your head on his shoulder. “Havin’ a good time, Sweetheart?” he mumbles against your skin. 

You nod, looking up and pressing your lips to his cheek. “Are you?”

He takes in the sight of his sons and his uncle, together in a place he’s only ever dreamed of visiting. And he has you by his side; more than that, you are the reason he’s here at all. 

“I’ve never been happier.”

--

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

TOM GLYNN-CARNEY INTERVIEWED FOR NERDIST MAGAZINE.

I'M TOLD YOU'RE ON HOLIDAY IN A REMOTE AREA, SO I HAVE TO ASK THE OBVIOUS QUESTION: ARE YOU CURRENTLY VACATIONING IN BRAVOS?

"[Laughs] No."

"No, I’m not."

INTERVIEWER: I’m in [actual location] — which Nerdist can confirm is beautiful — withheld so Aemond Targaryen doesn’t find out.

DO YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHERE LARYS IS TAKING AEGON? IS IT REALLY BRAAVOS?

"Can’t disclose that information at this point, I don’t think."

"But wherever it is, it’s somewhere."

"Sorry, I just made that up. I don’t know."

DOES AEGON HAVE ANY DOUBTS ABOUT LARYS OR DOES HE FULLY TRUST HIM AT THIS POINT?

"He’s the best of a bad bunch in the Red Keep."

"I think there is a certain amount of trust that he has towards Larys just because there’s common ground."

"They’re both physically impaired now, and Larys has lived his entire life in that state."

"So there’s some sort of connectivity going on there, but also it seems like he does have Aegon’s best interests at heart at this point."

"I don’t think Aegon wants to look too much into that at the moment."

"He will find cracks in the woodwork."

"So yeah, he’s a lifeline at the moment."

"And he shall be used accordingly."

AT THIS POINT HOW DOES AEGON FEEL ABOUT HIS MOTHER ALICENT?

"That’s a good question."

"I think he feels there’s this undying love that he has for Alicent."

"Aegon, he’s her first born son, and yet there’s never been this kind of understanding or eye-to-eye that they’ve had."

"He knows she’s flawed, and she knows he’s flawed, and I think they expect a lot from each other that neither of them are able to give."

"But at this point, he’s not thinking that rationally."

"He likes to point the finger and he needs to find somebody to blame."

"He blames Aemond, of course."

"But also for it to get to this point, Alicent has sort of steered the ship in a certain way."

"So yeah, there’s a lot going on there."

"It’s quite a complex relationship."

I KNOW AS AN ACTOR YOU HAVE TO FIND AEGON'S HUMANITY, BUT DOES THE KING HIMSELF RECOGNIZE, IN ANY WAY, HE'S A MONSTER?

"I think he’s dancing with the idea of being loved and feared at the same time."

"I know I’ve said that in interviews before, but I think it’s a good way of putting it."

"Those two things don’t really go together."

"He’s trying to work out a way for his approach to being the king and to ruling."

"He’s trying to strike a balance where he remains effective, but also people listen to him."

"At the moment he hasn’t been listened to, which is kind of why he’s had to force himself into this position of being proactive in a way that he was not ready to do."

"So, no, I don’t think he thinks he’s a monster because I don’t think he is a monster."

"I think he’s somebody who’s very tortured and traumatized by his own making really."

"But I also think it makes somebody more dangerous when they don’t realize potential."

"I don’t think he does quite just yet."

CONSIDERING I KNOW HOW IMPORTANT AEGON IS TO THE STORY, I WAS VERY FRUSTRATED BY HOW LITTLE THE SHOW FEATURED YOU IN SEASON ONE. DID YOU KNOW BACK THEN JUST HOW BIG YOUR ROLE WOULD BE IN SEASON TWO?

"I was warned it was an introduction."

"Just in terms of the time jump."

"We couldn’t really have the older versions of our characters, myself and Helaena and Aemond and the likes, because of the time jump we were making."

"I understood season one was always more of an introduction to our versions of these characters, and season two would really lift off."

"And season three and onwards would just get tastier and tastier as time went on."

"So no, I didn’t feel shortchanged or let down or anything."

"I was always updated with the plan."

THE SHOW IS CHARTING IT'S OWN COURSE AND MAKING SOME BIG CHANGES TO THE DANCE OF THE DRAGONS. HAVE (SHOWRUNNER) RYAN CONDAL AND THE WRITERS GIVEN YOU A HEADS UP ON WHAT AWAITS AEGON IN SEASONS THREE AND FOUR?

"Yeah, I’ve spoken to Ryan and writers Sara Hess and David Hancock a lot about their ideas, about the trajectory that they want Aegon to go on."

"They have been quite… there’s been details, but not too detailed because of giving things away and not locking things in the writing room."

"It’s exciting to listen to and it’s exciting to understand where their thoughts are and include me in that as well, which is great."

"It feels very collaborative that they want to know my thoughts and the rest of the actors on their own characters journeys really."

"It’s great."

I THINK THIS IS REALLY SAYING SOMETHING ON A SHOW THIS WELL ACTED: YOUR PERFORMANCE THIS YEAR WAS A REVELATION FOR MANY AND HAS RIGHTFULLY EARNED VERY HIGH PRAISE. WHAT'S IT BEEN LIKE PERSONALLY HEARING THAT KIND OF RESPONSE TO YOUR WORK?

"It’s very kind."

"Thank you."

"To be honest, I try and stay away from all of the conversations about it."

"It feels like my work, for now anyway, has been done."

"And I want to sort of put it to bed and move on and not really dwell on it."

"I think if I get too engaged with what people are saying, and the noises people are making, I’ll get too in my head."

"That’s not really the way I like to work."

"But I’m really glad to hear that people are responding well and they’re seeing lots of different colors to Aegon that they didn’t anticipate."

"That was my job from the first day on set, to bring this character to life in a multidimensional, varied, color palette kind of way."

"And he’s an absolute gift to play."

"I think you’d do well to do a bad job of a character like Aegon."

"He’s a gift that keeps on giving."

YOU HAD TO DO A LOT THIS YEAR AS AEGON. WHAT IS MORE CHALLENGING AS A PERFORMER: THE BIG PHYSICAL, LOUD, EMOTIONAL SCENES FROM EARLIER IN THE SEASON OR THE QUIETER ONES AFTER AEGON'S INJURIES?

"Both for different reasons."

"I dunno, that’s like comparing badminton with tennis, two very different sports."

"In terms of stamina, probably the louder, more kind of theatrical scenes."

"They require a lot of focus and a lot of energy and usually emotional depth and agility."

"But saying that, when I’m in the bed, covered in all the prosthetics and stuff, that’s tiring in its own way and difficult to remain focused on the task at hand."

"So yeah, both have their own challenges, but I revel in both arenas."

MY LAST QUESTION, AND I WOULD NOT FORGIVE MYSELF IF I DIDN'T ASK THIS, WHAT HAPPENED TO AEGON'S TERRIBLE LITTLE MUSTACHE FROM FIRE & BLOOD?

"[Laughs] Good question."

"You know what? I had this conversation with Amanda Knight, the wonderful hair and makeup designer on the show."

"We spoke about this at the start, about whether we could bring that to life, because I remember seeing pictures of him."

And she was like, 'You know what? You might not want to sustain that for the amount of time that we do this show. So maybe let’s go clean shaven and see where we get from there.'

"But that’s not to say that it might not come at some point, even though he has had his face burned, it might be half a mustache, but we’ll see."

[gaily-daily-musings]

Literally no one asked for the nursing home reverse trope and because I am upset I'm taking it upon myself to make y'all suffer

(I've decided to make it a senior community rather than a nursing home)

-

Obi-Wan is 55. An official senior. He hates it. It's awful. Quinlan won't stop making fun of him despite being older than him.

Despite his initial hesitation, the community is regretfully nice. Mace and Yoda and Qui-Gon are all welcoming. He never thought he would be reduced to this but when the divorce hit he'd lost the house. He'd been living with Quinlan for over a year and felt bad for taking advantage. Given his money situation, his options were reduced to a housing community for seniors. He'd heard about it through Qui-Gon who was on his pickleball team.

There's a young man (34) working there. A maintenance man named Anakin Skywalker. Anakin is quite handsome and very charismatic. The ladies will often flirt with him and giggle over his arms. It's all harmless fun. Normally Obi-Wan isn't one to leer, but goodness he was certainly striking.

Obi-Wan near has a heart attack one day when he witnesses Anakin in swim trunks attending the pool. Lord, he's never felt like such a lecher. He's not used to this. To looking. He's a monogamous sort of a man. Never cheated. Even when he and Satine started growing apart years ago he never wavered.

Obi-Wan starts working out more for no particular reason. He was always fit for his age but feels more self conscious than ever. He tries to tell himself he was just trying to stay healthy, but he knew he was lying to himself. He feels ridiculous. The hell was he doing? Anakin was just a nice man jokingly flirting with the elderly. It wasn't serious.

The center puts together an annual event for the residents. This year they decide the theme is “senior prom”. It's stupid. Quinlan talks him into RSVPing.

Anakin is invited by Maria, one of the ladies who is particularly forward in her intentions. Obi-Wan tells himself not to be jealous and fails spectacularly.

Throughout the evening Anakin dances with several ladies. Obi-Wan yearns from the sidelines. He tries to work up the courage to ask. He's not afraid of being rejected, he's just afraid Anakin will see he's being earnest. Did he even want to be taken seriously? Did he want to pursue something real?

Maria makes her way to Anakin again as I've Had The Time of My Life plays. She has no shame as she feels up Anakin's arms and strokes his chest. He takes it in stride and winks down at her. She laughs as they spin around the room.

Three songs later Obi-Wan contemplates slinking back to his room.

“Would you like to dance?”

Obi-Wan startles. He hadn't heard him approach.

“I…uh, y-yes…” he stammers.

He takes Anakin's hand feeling like a school boy. His heart flutters in his chest. He knows Anakin is just being nice, he's already danced with everyone else after all, but he can't help the blush on his cheeks.

Obi-Wan let's Anakin take the lead as he's unsure if he'll be able to keep his head on straight.

“Did you go to your school prom?” Anakin asks.

“Yes. With my ex-wife actually. You?”

Anakin smiles. “Coincidentally I went with my ex too.”

“I didn't know you were divorced.”

“Widowed.”

Obi-Wan winces. “I'm sorry.”

“It's fine. You didn't know. It was years ago anyway.”

They move slowly across the floor. Obi-Wan consciously keeps his hands where they are appropriate.

“So, any kids?”

“Twins. They're 13.”

Obi-Wan chuckles. “I don't envy you. I remember when my son was that age. He went through a whole goth phase.”

Anakin laughs. It's beautiful. “Aw man, you would have hated me then. I was really into the goth scene as a teen.”

They keep talking and dancing. At some point Maria kindly asks for her date back and they reluctantly part.

-

They come across each other while Obi-Wan is visiting the local park. He sees Anakin walking a dog as his kids eat ice cream. He doesn't want to intrude on what is clearly a family outing. But then Anakin spots him and waves him over.

Anakin introduces his children.

“You're that old guy dad talks about,” Leia says.

Anakin flushes.

“Did you fight in a war?” Luke asks. “Do you have any battle scars?”

After the initial awkwardness and round of interrogation, Anakin asks Obi-Wan if he wanted to join them for dinner. Unable to find a reason to say no he accepts.

For the record, Obi-Wan isn't an idiot. Normally when a young person sought out the company of a significantly older person, it was because they were a gold digger. But Obi-Wan hasn't much money to offer. He doesn't have much of anything really. He recalls Anakin mentioning that he never knew his father. With a heavy heart he realizes perhaps that was why Anakin wanted to be around him. He was an older father figure to him. Of course that must be it.

After dinner Anakin tucks his kids into bed (or rather just Luke as Leia has outgrown that). Obi-Wan helps clean up. Anakin says he should stay. It was late and he didn't want to send him home like this. Besides he had work in the morning so they could go in together.

Anakin lets him have the bed and sleeps on the couch despite his protests. The next morning Anakin sees the kids off to school. Obi-Wan makes everyone breakfast as a thank you. Anakin then drives them to the senior community. Obi-Wan gets out and goes to his apartment.

He is unfortunately seen getting out of Anakin's car. Rumors fly. His friends crowd him for details. Obi-Wan tries to tell them nothing happened but nobody believes him.

On his 56th birthday his pickleball team takes him out to celebrate. Little does he know that Qui-Gon has invited Anakin. He shows up with a present. Its pink shorts with the word pickleball on the booty. Obi-Wan's face feels warm.

Soon Anakin has to leave to go pick up his kids from school. Now gone, Quinlan takes Obi-Wan aside to ask him when he's gonna make a move on Anakin. Obi-Wan thinks he's being insane. Never? Anakin wasn't interested? Now Quinlan looks at him like he's the insane one.

“He literally gave you booty shorts! He wants to see your thighs!”

“That was a joke!”

Quinlan sighs. He asks the table if they thought Anakin was into Obi-Wan. They all say yes immediately.

“I thought you were already dating?” Bant asks.

The next day Obi-Wan sees Anakin doing maintenance in the lobby. He starts up a conversation. It was so easy to talk to him. Far too easy.

“By the way, thank you for your gift yesterday. Though I'm not sure they'll fit me, they may be a little small.” He jokes.

“I dunno, I think they'll fit just fine.” Anakin deliberately looks him up and down, lingering on his ass.

Obi-Wan gulps.

-

Later Obi-Wan is doing some swim aerobics in the pool with Yoda and Qui-Gon. Yoda mentions having had a heart attack two years ago.

“Seize the moment, one must. Lest life passes you by.” he looks straight at Obi-Wan as he says it.

Obi-Wan blinks. He frowns. He really didn't appreciate his friends barging into his love life. He tells them so.

“What love life? You're single.”

Obi-Wan has no retort.

Is it so wrong to not want to burden a strapping young man with someone like him? Someone who is wrinkled and old and has nothing to offer?

After swimming Obi-Wan grabs a towel and heads off back to his apartment. It's just a short walk over to the building. On the way he spots Anakin between the hedges fixing a sprinkler. He pauses. He looks down at his protruding belly. The worst he could do is utterly humiliate himself and be forced to avoid Anakin the rest of his life. Or until he moves.

“Hi.”

Anakin looks up. He smiles.

“Hey.”

His eyes linger on Obi-Wan’s chest. He swallows. It gives him the boost of confidence he needs.

“I was just, um, wondering if perhaps you wanted to…have dinner again? I can cook.”

Anakin hums, “I can't this week.”

Obi-Wan nearly deflates. He tells himself it's not the end of the world. It's fine. He starts to retreat, backing up the way he came.

“Sorry, of course. I didn't mean to impose. Anyway, I have to head back but it was nice to see you.”

Anakin catches his arm. “Woah, I didn't say I didn't want to, just that this week is no good.”

Obi-Wan blinks.

“But next week I'm open? I can pop by after work. That is if you're up for it still?”

Obi-Wan smiles. “Yes I'd like that.”

Anakin's hand lingers on his arm. Neither wanting to pull away just yet. Obi-Wan clears his throat.

“What would you like? F-for dinner I mean.”

“I'm not picky. Surprise me.”

“Alright then.”

“Alright.”

From the sidelines, Qui-Gon, Mace, Yoda, Maria, and several others are watching from inside the pool center. Maria sighs forlornly. “Should have known he would steal him right out from under my nose.”

“I think it's sweet,” her friend Amanda says.

“Very sweet.” Yoda nods sagely.

[s-brant]

Anything

Now that the council has been made aware of rumors regarding Anakin and his apprentice’s relationship, they’re put under the microscope of a careful investigation and must avoid rousing suspicion at any cost (or part three to teacher’s pet)

9k (18+)

Warnings: smut, p in v, somnophilia, dub-con due to the circumstance but they’re both very into it, choking, dom anakin, inappropriate relationships, unhealthy attachment issues, and strong language.

-

The ceremony itself was a quick, intimate affair.

How they pulled it off, neither of them knows, but they set their sights on a planet far away. Where nobody knew them personally or could know they were Jedi without their lightsabers visible. It wasn't a wedding most would've been satisfied with, but they were. It didn't matter that everyone they cared for couldn't know about it, nor did it matter to her that they couldn't exchange rings. What mattered was the fact that it was happening.

Dantooine ended up being the best option for them. On Naboo, he could be recognized by those who met him years ago when he was ordered to guard Padme's life, Coruscant was out of the realm of possibility for obvious reasons, and as easy as it would've been for them to go undetected in Tatooine, Anakin made it clear he had no fondness for his home planet and suggested Dantooine instead.

Using clothes they had from a mission in which they had to pretend not to be Jedi a year or so ago, they concealed their identities and traveled as quickly as they could. And though she tried to refuse given the fact that they didn't have credits of their own, a lovely older woman working for the man who married them insisted Y/N wear the wedding gown that was passed through her family for generations. In the short time they spent with these people, they learned that her daughter passed away long ago, and though the old woman had no living children, she hung onto the dress since it was the one she wore at her wedding.

When asked about their lives, it was surprising how quickly the lies spilled out of them. It was mostly her speaking while Anakin stood beside her, delighting in the way he could touch her and stand near to her without having to fear being caught there. She spun a tale of forbidden love, of her father promising her to another man and her running off with Anakin for the sake of true love, so it wasn't too far from the truth.

"Are you listening?"

The sound of Anakin's voice snaps her out of her memory-induced daze.

They are tucked away in a corner of the library where no one can see or hear them, leaning against the shelves and standing face to face. He asked her to meet him here before he was needed in an emergency council meeting that Obi-Wan warned him of ahead of time. It was supposed to be a surprise. It was supposed to catch Anakin off guard, but his old master couldn't help himself. There would always be a part of him that looked out for Anakin the way an older brother would. The reason for the meeting, he said, had to do with a troubling slew of rumors regarding him and his padawan.

"I'm sorry, I"—she shakes her head as though it'll do anything to clear her thoughts—"I don't understand. Rumors?"

Anakin's eyes move to look past her shoulder, scanning the room both manually and with the Force to ensure nobody has approached the area before focusing back on her. He steps in closer and says what comes next quietly.

"Obi-Wan didn't tell me what the rumors were specifically, but his meaning was clear. Someone knows about it...about us."

Much like it does whenever Anakin takes her out flying with him at the helm of the ship, her stomach drops at this. Before she can even think of what to say, she's already shaking her head in disbelief.

She mutters, "That can't be true. Nobody has even suspected us, let alone caught us."

He has to fight the urge to reach out to comfort her. His hand flexes at his side as he forces himself not to cup her face in it the way he knows soothes her when they're alone together. It's too risky, especially now after Obi-Wan's warning. All he can do is meet her gaze and offer her a phantom touch through the Force. She feels the presence of an invisible hand brushing her cheek and breathes more evenly in response to it.

"You're right, nobody has caught us. We've made sure of that. But someone does suspect us. I don't know how or why, but they do, and with a claim like that, the council has to take it seriously regardless of where it came from or a lack of evidence," Anakin explains. His expression hardens the more he continues to talk about it. "This is a very big deal, Y/N. If they discover the truth—"

She is quick to interrupt him.

"They won't."

There's a long pause after this, and she takes it as her chance to breech the distance between them.

The feeling of the soft pads of her fingertips touching his arm makes him take a step back at first in retreat, but she doesn't allow him to stray far. With one last look over her shoulder, she moves in close to him and throws her arms around his broad shoulders in an embrace. A kiss would be too daring, but a hug doesn't necessarily prove anything. They've hugged before, albeit after near death experiences during the war, so it could be overlooked again. It isn't the smartest move, but it's necessary. Because as soon as their bodies meet, he lets out a heavy sigh.

As relieving as it is, she's quick to pull away after a moment has passed. Her arms remain locked around his shoulders to keep him close, and the arms wrapped around her waist squeeze tighter as though she'll disappear the second he loosens his hold on her.

Those pretty eyes, a more vibrant blue than the oceans on Scarif, darken the longer he looks down at her.

"I meant what I said before," he says softly, calmly. "Nothing will take you from me."

She remembers that day so clearly. He said it with such conviction despite it only being their second time indulging in intimacy together, and she knew he meant it. It was clear in the way he looked at her as he said it, but it's different now. Now, the implication behind it is laced with something predatory and possessive, not a soft-spoken promise in the aftermath of tender lovemaking but rather a threat and promise tied together with a steely-eyed stare.

Her fingertips play with the sandy brown curls at the back of his neck as she nods and murmurs, "I know."

-

Y/N isn't sure why she hadn't anticipated her presence being requested in the council meeting regarding the rumors of her and Anakin's relationship. Now that she sits in front of all the Jedi masters who make up the council, she can't believe she'd been naive enough to think they would only question her master on the subject and leave her be.

They left the library five minutes apart. First, it was Anakin who left and walked out with a book to make his sudden appearance in the area make sense, then it was her. She counted out the seconds until she was safe to leave. They typically didn't need to take such precautions to avoid rousing suspicion. They had the perfect excuse to spend time together, after all, with him being her master and she his padawan. But now that the nature of their relationship has been put loudly to question, they were better off being safe.

The sun is setting in the distance through the windows of the room, casting everyone in a warm, orange-red light, and she chooses to focus on the beauty of that sunset rather than the nerves that tie her stomach into knots. They've hardly begun, but what has been said is already damning in and of itself.

"This is ridiculous," Anakin says with a straight face, although he is unable to keep the annoyance from shining through in his tone. "Ask everyone we've worked with and they'll tell you that Y/N and I have always maintained a professional working relationship. I care about her as my apprentice the same way Obi-Wan cared for me as his."

Obi-Wan's eyes flutter shut, and a deep sigh escapes from him as he leans back in his chair before opening them again. When they open, it's Anakin they're looking at.

"You forget your place in this meeting. Allow Master Windu to finish speaking, young one."

The inherent condescension present in the choice of words makes Anakin's chest muscles tighten up involuntarily. There are few things that make him as angry as being treated like a child despite being a Jedi Knight with an apprentice and missions of his own. But, he knew deep down, that would always be how Obi-Wan saw him, and he resents him for it underneath it all. In a way, he would always be the reckless and tempestuous boy they discovered on Tatooine all those years ago.

Hidden behind the overflowing fabric of his robes, his hand clenches into a fist with enough force that his fingernails nearly break the skin of his palm.

He has no choice but to keep quiet.

Master Windu watches the interaction carefully, as do the rest of the council, and waits for him to break. He waits for there to be a crack in the facade, for him to look over at her and reveal it all, but he doesn't break.

"As I was saying," he starts, shifting a bit in his seat to look at where she's sat across the room from Anakin, "we got an anonymous report yesterday, but, to be candid, these rumors did not start yesterday. They've existed for a few weeks now, but none of us would've insulted either of you by entertaining them. Not until now."

Her throat is dry, a lump forming at the very back of it, when she asks, "What exactly were we accused of?"

The way she says it is soft and calm, as she always forces herself to be in the presence of her superiors, but Anakin knows her. He can sense the rage bubbling beneath the surface of her skin that begs to be let out, and he's sure the others can too, but they won't mistake it for anything other than anger at whoever accused them. Still, she is told by Master Yoda to calm herself down before they proceed, so she tries her best.

A second passes, then Obi-Wan says as tactfully as possible, "Allegedly, the person who reported this witnessed inappropriate behavior between the two of you outside of the temple recently. At night. We have footage to prove you were, in fact, where they said you were, but none to prove this accusation of inappropriate behavior."

The news settles like a heavy weight in her gut, dragging her down and down until she has no hope of climbing out of this hole they've dug themselves in. They were always careful when they left the temple. Anakin had a keen awareness of where the surveillance cameras were as well as their blind spots, so she knows straight away that the footage they have is nothing more than them walking beside one another.

As if on cue, the footage is projected in the middle of the room.

"None of us are saying we believe these accusations without proof, but the existence of them is concerning nonetheless," Windu says. "Why did you allow your padawan outside of the Temple so late?"

Anakin stammers a little at first, the only sign of his true feelings thus far, before pulling himself together. He holds his head high as he always does and doesn't balk from the intense eye contact with Master Windu.

"It was just a walk. I couldn't sleep, so I planned to go on a walk myself when I ran into her."

"So, you had no reason relating to your duty to be escorting your apprentice into the city at night?"

The retort is fired back at him so quickly, he hardly has the chance to take another breath before opening his mouth to defend himself again. His palm stings from how hard he digs his nails into his skin as he begins to lose his composure little by little.

"Well, not exactly—"

"So, you decided to go for a walk?"

Before Anakin has the chance to respond, Y/N cuts in.

"It was my fault," she says, diverting everyone's attention away from the growing storm behind Anakin's eyes. "He was already outside of the Temple when he spotted me, and when he told me to go back inside, I refused. He stayed with me because he knew I was going to go out by myself if he didn't and wanted to make sure I was safe."

And while it's a perfect defense in comparison to them admitting the truth, it makes Anakin cringe internally all the same because it makes him look weak. It makes him appear as though he has no control over his padawan. Just another reason to deny him the rank of master, he supposes. Another to add to the list of reasons why he's a problem to them.

This admission, still halfway true, causes everyone to pause for a second.

Then, Master Windu sets his attention solely on her, and she knows that what's coming next will not be worded as carefully as what Obi-Wan said. It's never been in Windu's nature to be anything other than honest and straightforward. He has always treated them with respect, but he doesn't harbor the same fondness for them that Obi-Wan does.

"I have to ask you directly, for the sake of addressing the severity of the situation, has Anakin ever acted inappropriately with you?"

She stumbles for a second, drawing out the time between when he asks and when she responds, but it's deliberate. If they're going to accuse her of it, she will make them say it and stew in the discomfort caused by it. Let them be tortured just as equally as she is by this.

":..Meaning?" she questions.

The bluntness with which he speaks next knocks the wind from her chest.

"Has Anakin ever tried to instigate a romantic relationship with you?" he asks it with a stony, unbreakable expression, abandoning any attempts at sugarcoating it. "The report itself said he was kissing you"—the discomfort of everyone else is palpable in the air—"and...touching you. They alleged that it happened in a dark area, so they didn't recognize you were Jedi until they came closer. As your master, if this rumor were true, it would be an abuse of his power. To take advantage of a padawan..." He trails off into silence for a second before taking a deep breath to steady himself. "He could never be trusted again."

She doesn't even dare to chance a glance over at where Anakin sits with his face hardened into a mask of neutrality, refusing to give them anything to use against him.

Obi-Wan, in a much gentler way, says, "I know you both well, so believe me when I say I don't believe this to be true, but we must take these accusations seriously. Not only would it be an abuse of power, but forming such attachments is not the Jedi way."

This time, she scans her eyes across the room as though she's looking for all of their reactions, but all she's truly looking for is him. And the small glimpse she gets of him makes her heart ache. He is completely shutting down. His eyes are fixed ahead of him at the middle of the floor, refusing to stray and meet hers. It's all he can do to keep himself under control.

Windu then says again, "Y/N, I need your honest answer. It needs to be shown on record that you both deny these claims."

Without missing a beat, she speaks.

"He has been nothing but respectful and supportive," she says. Instead of looking at it as a lie, she frames it as a performance. She imagines herself as a character on the stage of a theater and plays the part. "Yes, I messed up by sneaking out of the temple, but Anakin never touched me."

In the back of her mind, she sees flashes of their memories together one after the next. His lips smeared against hers, his prosthetic hand clamped around her throat, and his flesh hand slipping beneath the waistband of her pants to feel how wet she got for him. But she fights to keep it under control, to keep the others out of her head as he taught her to.

"So, to answer your question, directly, honestly, and on the record, no. He didn't do anything he was accused of."

For the first time since they've been dragged in here, the members of the council have nothing to throw at them. Without their confession, they have nothing, and she would sooner leave the order than give him up.

Almost in response to this, Anakin looks up from the floor to find her glancing at him. It lasts a mere second, but it strengthens his resolve all the same it reminds him what's at stake.

"Anakin?"

The sound of Master Windu's voice brings his attention away from her. A few seconds pass before he realizes what they're waiting for.

"No. I've never done anything of which I've been accused."

The silence that follows is tense.

Neither of them knows what to do with themselves in the next few moments or so as the council discusses their alleged transgressions as though they aren't in the room with them, but they know not to look at each other. They already got one glimpse already, anything more would be reckless and greedy. After a long back and forth between Obi-Wan and Windu, they seem to come to an agreement.

Master Windu says, "It's settled, then. Y/N, you'll be temporarily removed as Anakin's padawan until we're done talking to witnesses and investigating. In the mean time, Obi-Wan will be your master."

-

It was a disgrace, an outrage.

Anakin's thoughts became poisonous as he was forced to walk out of the council meeting without sparing a glance at her, watching as Obi-Wan whisked her away to speak to her privately as her new master. Maker, even thinking those words made him grimace. There was something inherently wrong with the notion of her belonging to anyone but him. She was his first, he thought, much like a spoiled child having to share his favorite toy. After all, she was his apprentice, his best friend, his wife. How dare they try to keep them apart?

He could hardly process what Master Yoda was saying to him as they walked a little ways behind Obi-Wan and Y/N. It was something about letting the process of justice unfold without harboring any anger for the situation. It was clear in the way it was said that neither Yoda nor the others fully believed the rumors. They all entertained the possibility of them being true, but no one, except maybe Windu, seemed too suspicious of them.

Unfortunately for him, Master Yoda stuck by his side for longer than he anticipated, so he had no choice but to leave her in the hallway with Obi-Wan. If he lingered to speak with her, it would only fuel the rumors about them. He opted for going back to his room to meditate instead, but every time he closed his eyes, his mind became flooded with thoughts of her. Of the meeting, of the night they snuck out, and who possibly could have recognized them.

She, however, was too preoccupied with Master Kenobi.

He walked alongside her at a leisurely pace, speaking freely with her, "I know how upset this whole thing has made you both, but believe me when I say I tried to tell them it wasn't true."

Whether it be willful ignorance or outright denial, she didn't know, but he was being truthful. Of all the council members, he was the least convinced that these rumors could be true, and that was by their design. They've always been extremely cautious in his presence due to his close relationship with Anakin. Her husband taught her how to control her thoughts, to keep from projecting them and allowing the other Jedi into her head, and she practiced it every time they worked with Obi-Wan.

Y/N refrained from picking at the skin around her nails as she often did when nervous and nodded along to what he said.

"If it had to be anyone but Anakin, I'm glad it was you they chose."

"I actually requested it," he says. Upon seeing the confused look on her face, he adds on, "I know Anakin cares for you. I thought that it may ease his mind to know I'm the one stepping in as your teacher."

She can't help but offer up a slight smile in response to this. It was sweet. How Obi-Wan always looked after him, even when Anakin thought everyone was against him or didn't care about his feelings. His old master would always care about him. Later, if she has the chance to see him, she'll tell him about how Obi-Wan defended them to the rest of the council and made sure she was placed under his command.

"I appreciate that greatly," Y/N says. "And I think Anakin would too. He'd probably benefit from a talk with a friend right about now if you're able."

"I'll talk to him as soon as I can, but they'll be questioning me about the allegations in a few moments, so I can't yet. You have my word, though. I will speak to him."

The thought of Anakin being provided with some form of relief is comforting enough to let her contracted neck and shoulder muscles relax.

"Thank you, master."

He simply bows his head to her and offers his goodbyes before turning back toward the council room. In the distance, she sees Master Yoda waiting for him, and all she can do to stop herself from losing what little composure she has left is breathe deeply as she walks the other way in pursuit of the kitchens. Perhaps a light meal will soothe her nervous stomach.

-

It's an hour past the curfew set for apprentices to return to their rooms.

She relies on the light of the lamp beside her bed to read the book Anakin gave to her a few years ago. Annotated in the margins by Yoda, Dooku, Qui Gon, Obi-Wan, and Anakin, she finds it helpful to read a page or so before bed each night to settle her mind after the events of the day and bring her focus back onto what's most important. Her duty.

Every time she comes across Anakin's sloping, cursive penmanship, her face lights up with a giddy little smile. The page is worn beneath the fingertip she runs over the spot where he signed his name, as though this book has been carefully handled and passed down from generation to generation. Her night clothes are little more than a thin, plain shift that falls down to her calves, so she doesn't feel too warm with the sheet pulled up over her body as she flips through the pages to read all of Anakin's annotations.

However, the joy she derived from reading his thoughts along the margins is quickly washed away by worry. Worry as she begins to wonder where he is and what he's doing. Have they continued to interrogate him? Hopefully he's been allowed a break from their incessant badgering at some point. Perhaps Obi-Wan has found the time to speak to him privately already.

She's so lost in her thoughts, she doesn't even sense his approaching presence until the door to her room opens without a sound.

Already, she's flipping the sheet off of her body and tossing the book onto the side table to meet him as he crosses through the threshold to her private dorm. But what he sees when he shuts the door behind him isn't a happy, smiling face, it's an angry one, and he's already being chastised before he has the chance to greet her.

"Please, tell me you weren't seen coming here? What if they find you with me? Then everything we did today would be for nothing—"

The last word dies on her mouth with a surprised "hmmpf" sound when he reaches forward to cup the back of her neck and pull her into a fervent kiss.

Her hands shoot out to grasp his arms reflexively as he traps her in his strong embrace, one arm around her waist and his other raised to hold her to him by the back of her neck, and kisses her the way a dying man gasps for air. As soon as their mouths meet, she knows where he's been. The taste lingering on his lips is that of his preferred form of alcohol, and she grimaces at how strong it is for a second before pushing at his arms to break the kiss.

You'd think she struck him. His brows furrow and eyes widen at the rejection.

"Why won't you kiss me?" he asks with a tired exhale, leaning forward and angling his head as though he's going to steal another from her in retribution.

"Because it tastes like you drank the whole bottle," she says with a chuckle and keeps him at bay for now. "Where did you go?"

He lets out a sigh, overdramatic as ever, and allows her to slip out of his grasp now that he knows he won't get any kisses until he answers her. The walk over to the bed is short for him with his long legs. All it takes is a few strides and he's collapsing onto the mattress with huff. The glove is already being ripped off of his cybernetic hand before he conjures a suitable response for her.

"Out."

A scoff escapes her.

"I gathered that."

"I went to a bar."

Her brows furrow at him.

His hands come up to allow him to rub his eyes as he says, "Not that bar, I went to a normal one."

The casual reference to that bar brings a searing heat to her face. "That bar" meaning the one they snuck out to go to the first night they were together, with the secret back rooms he led her into and had his way with her in front of a few of the sex workers lounging there. He felt it necessary to clarify that he would never go to such a place without her present for obvious reasons. The thought alone of her thinking he would do something like that, putting himself into a situation no married man should ever be in, made his heart ache a little.

She allows herself to smile at him just a little, even though he can't see it, and walk over to where he's laying with his legs hanging off the foot of the bed. Feeling the mattress dip beside him with her shifting weight, he drops his hands back down and looks at her. And even when he's drunk, angry, and worried, he still finds it in himself to look at her like that. Like she's more important than the Force itself.

In return, she gives him the same look. It isn't too hard to summon. It comes so naturally when he looks the way he does right now; effortlessly beautiful with his overgrown hair framing his face and looking up at her through his lashes with a pink-flushed face.

"What did they say to you?" she asks softly.

Her fingertips are feathery-light where they touch his hair, brushing it away from his face in a way she knows soothes him. It causes his eyes to shut in appreciation of it, then, once he's fully taken in the moment, he answers.

"Not much." His body starts to shift to allow him to roll onto his stomach, and he wraps his arms around her hips. In this position, he gets to rest his face on her thighs, placing tender kisses along the soft skin. "They repeated the all same questions just worded differently each time. When they finally told me I was free to go, they were bringing in others we worked in close quarters with."

"Did Obi-Wan happen to talk to you?" she asks. This piques his interest straight away. His head pops up from her lap, his arms unwrapping from her waist to help him sit up to face her. "He told me he wanted to speak with you. To let you know that he requested to be my master in your absence because he knows how much you care for me."

In lieu of a response, Anakin starts to lean forward to nudge her face with his. Their noses brush as he captures her lips in a wet kiss, humming in satisfaction at how she instantaneously kisses back without thinking. Call him what you want for it, but he knows the effect he has on her and how to use to for his own gain. Right now, he's using it to redirect her back to what he wants. Which is, of course, to hold and kiss his wife. He doesn't think he's asking for too much.

She murmurs against his mouth, "Why won't you answer my question?"

His breath is hot against her skin when he pulls away to dip his face down into the curve where her shoulder meets her neck. All she feels is a soft pair of lips caressing her skin followed by the sharp hip of his teeth. He finds a way to shake his head through it all, not faltering for a second throughout the process of kissing her neck and nudging her slowly onto her back.

"I don't want to talk about Obi-Wan right now," he whispers.

With his body now laid flush atop hers, hips nudged between her parted thighs, he brushes his lips against hers softly. It's a sweet, gentle kiss. One she hadn't been expecting with how eagerly he was crawling on top of her seconds ago, but no amount of sweetness can make her forget that he's not in his right mind at the moment. So, she lets him kiss her for a few more seconds, giving him the chance to revel in what he so clearly wanted all night while he was out drinking, before looping her fingers through the soft hair on the back of his head to pull his face away from hers.

He winces at the slight pain caused by having his hair pulled, but they both know it's something he enjoys. His lips curve down into a slight frown as he realizes what's happening.

"Why are we stopping?"

She chuckles a little and cards her fingers through the hair she just pulled to soothe his mortally wounded ego.

"Because you're very drunk, and I'm also quite tired so I won't let you do it until you've sobered up."

His brows furrow.

"You won't let me?"

Her head shakes, a coy smile teasing at her mouth, and this causes him to stop as though in consideration for a second before groaning and rolling off of her. He ends up flopping onto his back on the mattress beside her, causing her to laugh a little at his dramatics before scooting closer to him and cuddling up next to his body. Her arm wraps around his slim waist and pulls tight as though she fears he won't remain here if she doesn't.

Sensing this, Anakin turns his head to look at her. His eyes soften the moment they land on her, and he reaches out with his flesh hand to brush his thumb over her lips.

"Sleep," he says quietly. A command, not a request. "I'll be with you. Always."

It takes a lot less time than it usually does for her to fall asleep once she burrowed beneath the sheet and rested her head on his pillow, right beside where his was laid. Part of it is due to him. Not only because his presence is soothing but because he breaks into her mind. She's so used to having him in there that she doesn't notice or care when he encourages her to sleep. For her body to relax far quicker than it usually would due to the soothing presence of his force signature.

For the first hour or so after she goes unconscious, he stays to ensure she doesn't wake. But, then, the boredom gets to him. Not to mention, he reeks of liquor and sweat, so he doesn't see any issue with temporarily leaving her for the sake of freshening up in the bathroom. The spray of the water hitting the floor hardly makes enough noise to reach the door, let alone beyond it into her bedroom, and he keeps checking, using the force to sense if she's still sleeping. By the time he is toweling himself off in front of the bathroom mirror, he no longer feels as impaired as he was when he first arrived.

The substance is still present in his system, yes, but he doesn't feel like everything is fuzzy around the edges anymore. Another hour has passed once he emerges from the bathroom with the towel wrapped low around his hips and his hair damp. What he sees when he lifts the sheet to slip into bed with her, tossing the towel to the floor on his side, halts him for a second.

She must have taken off her thin shift in the time he spent in the bathroom. It isn't uncommon for her to do this, rousing herself to a dazed state of partial consciousness to rip the bedclothes from her body due to the heat causing her to sweat in her sleep.

With the shades pulled shut over their windows to keep the city lights from invading the dark sanctuary of her bedroom, his eyes have adjusted to the darkness enough to see her beside him.

A quick glance at the time projected onto the ceiling in faint red light proves he has been awake far too long, and it's hard for him to not huff in frustration as he rolls onto his side. Facing her...

The curve of her hip juts out in an exaggeration of its usual shape from her laying on her stomach with one of her legs bent up near her side and the other lying flat against the mattress. With the sheet pulled up just enough to cover her ass, looking at her is cruel torment for him. How else is he supposed to react when his wife insists upon sleeping in the nude right beside him? He refuses to feel shame for how his cock stirs to life at the sight of her nearly every night.

Anakin's left hand slides up from his side to grasp the thin sheet between his fingers, gingerly pulling it down until it only covers the lower half of her legs.

At first, his only intention is to touch her. To caress her soft skin, hairless and smooth for the first time in ages now that they're back on Coruscant where she can groom herself, and relish in the fact that she's here with him. There's something so intoxicating about watching her sleep. It occurs to him that that thought, if spoke aloud, would probably creep her out, but it doesn't feel wrong to him. It's nice to see her without worry for once. So much of their time together is spent fearing that someone will catch them, but when she's asleep, she's at peace.

His hand ghosts over the back of her thigh, climbs up the curve of her hip, and keeps going up until he finds her neck. So delicate, so pristine in the way he only finds women can be. Men are so rash, harsh, and unsatisfying to look at to him. Himself included. She, however, is a work of art. Everything about her, from the way her hips sway just so when she walks to how her hair blows around her face in the breeze, is beautiful. He has always preferred them as a sex. After all, everyone he truly cares for, aside from Obi-Wan, has been a woman. His mother, Padme, and, of course, his beloved apprentice and secret wife.

He thinks to himself as he allows his hand to dip down to cup her breast, They make more sense. Everything about them was designed with careful thought. In a way, he envied them. In other ways, he didn't. As his hand grazes down her navel in search of the apex of her thighs, he can't help but stare at her in awe. His fingertips dip into the delicate folds of her cunt. So warm. Soft. Inviting. Begging him to delve further and give her what she desires.

She has done this to him a countless amount of times—woken him up with her mouth around him, sucking hard into the back of her tight throat—so he has no qualms with returning the favor.

It becomes clear to him very quickly that he won't be satisfied with merely touching her. While it is invigorating to see her subconscious response to his touch, her thighs pressing together and trapping his hand there as he rubs her clit, he knows what he truly wants right now.

He wants to take back his ownership of her.

What happened today was nothing short of traumatizing for him. He isn't stupid, he knows what they're trying to do. If he isn't careful, the council will try to take her from him, just like every other woman he's loved has been taken from him. When he was assigned to protect Padme just before the start of the Clone Wars, he lost his mother. Shortly after, he lost Padme too. She refused to be with him in the end, saying she couldn't lie to the senate and the council. He refuses to let the same thing happen with Y/N.

Soon, he begins to feel a wetness seeping out of her. His fingertips dip down to collect it from her hole and spread it over her throbbing bud, rubbing faster. A soft, muffled sound escapes her lips at this, and that's when he loses whatever scrap of patience remained in him.

Anakin slips his hand out from between her thighs to stroke himself a few times. Although he's already hard, he takes it as a chance to spread her slick arousal along his cock to make it easier when he inevitably fucks her. With the stimulation now withdrawn, she begins to fuss a little. It isn't anything like it would be were she awake and aware, but she does writhe ever so slightly in her spot upon the mattress as if instinctually searching for the pleasure that evaded her.

He's careful not to wake her just yet. Since she was so tired, he thinks she should rest for as long as she can before she's woken up by him. So, he's gentle in how he guides her into the easiest position to allow him access. She remains on her side, but he brings her legs up closer to her chest, forcing her back to arch and offer up her soaked pussy to him.

From there on, it's too tempting.

He guides the broad tip, messy with precome, of his cock into her first, waiting a moment to listen to her deep breathing to assess if she's waking before nudging further into her inch by inch. Being inside of her is serenity itself. It's like coming home, and he delights in how responsive her cunt is to him even while she sleeps. Her walls clamp down around the thick girth of him only to relax a second later to allow him in the rest of the way. His mouth drops open in a quiet gasp at how good it feels to bury himself inside of her, pushing and pushing until he bottoms out with his tip nestled close to her cervix.

The hand that isn't devoting it's time to rubbing her clit reaches to cup one of her breasts. It squeezes softly at first, but, as usual, it isn't enough. With the first thrust he makes back into her after he pulls almost all the way out of her, he grasps her breast harder and rolls the nipple between thumb and index finger. Having both of his hands on her—one on her chest and the other anchored between her thighs—gives him better leverage to fuck her how he wants to.

"Feel so good," he murmurs into her bare shoulder, not caring that she cannot hear him say it.

He loses control of himself quite fast. It's all too easy to allow the pace of his thrusts to speed up little by little, but, more importantly, he can't help himself from going harder. He enjoys going slow sometimes, but he never goes easy on her. If he ever did, she would scold him. Most often, she has the control between the two of them when it comes to intimacy, and that's the way he's always preferred it. But now...He finds that he likes having total control over her more than he thought he would.

His lips press gently against the curve of her shoulder to help suppress the load moan that threatens to leave him in response to her squeezing down around him.

The haze of sleep has a strong hold over her still when her eyes begin to flutter open.

At first, she's certain it's a dream. Trapped in the space between consciousness and unconsciousness, her mind has yet to realize that she's slowly but surely coming back to consciousness. Her dreams have always been incredibly vivid, especially when they concern Anakin, so no alarms are raised at the feeling in the pit of her abdomen. It isn't until she feels his teeth graze her skin that she realizes that it isn't happening inside her head.

The light beyond the shut curtains, the only source of light at this late hour, illuminates just enough of her face to allow him the pleasure of watching her react to what's happening. Her brows pinch together, a crease forming in the skin between them, and, then, her eyes open slowly.

Y/N wakes to the overwhelming pleasure of him touching her, kissing her, fucking her—essentially doing anything he can to feel closer to her—and the first thing she thinks to do is reach being her to grab onto him. Her hand lifts from where it laid on the mattress to reach back for him, sliding down the side of his bare, muscled abdomen until it reaches his hip. There, her nails dig into him.

She says, evidently confused, "Ani?"

The second after she says the nickname, a particularly harsh thrust causes her to whine in both pleasure and sensitivity, head tipping back while he finishes sucking a mark onto the back of her shoulder. Even through the fog in her mind, she's thankful that he's only leaving marks behind in places she'll be able to cover. It wouldn't be wise to meet with Obi-Wan tomorrow morning with a love bite visible on the side of her neck.

He pulls his face from her neck to press his cheek against hers, lips pressing a tender kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"I'm not intoxicated," he says as explanation for the euphoric wake-up call. "And when I came out of the shower, I noticed you ripped your clothes off in your sleep..."

This brings a sleepy grin to her face, and she can feel him grinning back at her with his cheek pressed to hers. The fingers toying with his clit continue at that perfect, toe-curling pace that increases the bliss she feels tenfold. That, when combined with how consistently he hits the sweet spot inside of her, is almost too much for her to handle so soon after coming back to consciousness.

"You're acting awfully brave. Aren't you worried I'll have to punish you for it sometime?"

Every word is punctuated with a panting breath as he drives into her harder and faster, her breasts bouncing with the force of it now. The palm he had molded over one of them slides up to grasp the very top of her neck, just beneath the jaw, in a possessive act of claiming.

He shakes his head, pushing hers a little further into the pillow it rests on.

"No," Anakin pants, "no, you won't be punishing me for taking what's mine. You forget that I'm your master."

Knowing how angry it will make him, she says, "Actually, Obi-Wan—"

The hand around her neck squeezes impossibly tight before she can dare to finish the sentence, and his pace becomes nearly brutal in a way it's only been a few times before. After a loss on the battlefield or a man leering at her in front of him. But this is...this is different. She can feel it—his anger, the possessiveness, the jealousy.

A second later, he releases his grip on her neck.

"Take that back," he mutters, seething, and pulls her hair taut from her scalp, eliciting a sound that's a strange mix of a moan and a wince. "Or I won't let you finish. You can do it yourself if you're so quick to betray me."

The mere thought is enough to make her brows pinch together in displeasure, and she starts to shake her head frantically. How cruel of him to wake her like this and threaten not to see it through to the end. Although, it does arouse her even more to think that he's simply using her for his own gratification now that she's "betrayed" him. The tension brewing within her, readying like an asp about to strike, seems to enjoy the notion of that.

And, worried that he'll stop, she cries out, voice breathy and soft, "You own me, master. Just you"—the next rut he makes into her is hard enough for her to gasp—"There's only you, Anakin."

"Yeah?" he asks, turning her face with the hand that choked her a moment ago to force her to meet his gaze.

The eye contact is so intense, she doesn't know what to do with herself when she's pinned beneath him like this. And, of course, everything is heightened by the vitriolic feelings roiling inside of him. He projects them at her without a second thought, letting her in to hear every thought that is practically shouted at her. She can't deny to herself that some of them are quite...disturbing. It's nothing too outrageous, but it's obvious to her that he perceived what happened today as a threat. A threat he will not take lightly.

She nods her head a few times, their noses brushing with the frenetic movement, and he can't help but smirk.

"Good girl," he mutters.

He keeps his lips as close to hers as possible without breaking eye contact with her. The urge to kiss her is heavily outweighed by the power he derives from looking into her eyes as he pounds into her. The whole day, he has felt helpless, mad, and scared, but it's all mended by her. By this moment. Not only due to the physical intimacy, but the emotional as well. He can feel how much she loves him. It's a feeling he wishes he could bottle and keep in his possession forever. He'd get drunk off of her if he could, but he can't, so this is the next best option.

When her eyes flutter shut in appreciation of her impending release, building inside of her like the swell of the sea, he says, "No, I want you to look at me."

Seeing that he holds the power regarding whether or not she'll come, she obeys his command immediately. When her eyes open to find his face so close to hers, the sight of him hits her like a punch to the gut, and that overwhelming feeling of love he felt emanating from her increases tenfold. She takes this time, the few, never-ending seconds before she's pushed over the edge into oblivion, to commit every detail of him to memory. The hair that falls in his face, the healing scar slicing through the outer edge of his eyebrow, and, most importantly to her, those sultry eyes of his.

Even outside of the bedroom, he has a way of looking at her that makes it obvious to anyone who looks too closely that he's undressing her with his eyes, but it's far worse when she's actually undressed and at his mercy. It makes her inevitable peak come on stronger and faster than either of them expected it to, her nails digging into his hip so hard that they break the surface of his skin.

She says breathlessly, looking up at him with wide, teary eyes, "Promise you won't let them keep us apart."

And though he's already reassured her countless times that they'll remain together no matter what, he surges forward through the small gap left between them and kisses her with a hunger that'll never be satisfied. It only lasts a second or so, but it's all she needs to reach her climax.

"I'll do anything," he whispers, kissing her deeply as she begins to tense around him. "Anything."

It's such a powerful, explosive surge of pleasure, she cannot do anything but tense in his arms and surrender herself to it.

The noises she makes are borderline pornographic, and if he weren't so in tune with her, he would probably think she's faking it. But there's no way of faking her body's natural response to him. As he guides his cock in and out of her at a brutal pace, the sound of their bodies colliding and how wet she is filling the room, he feels every spasm and twitch of her around him. There's no avoiding those guttural sounds, the slack-jawed expression on her face, or the tight cunt milking him with every unyielding wave of her climax.

Anakin's mechno-hand squeezes around her neck with just the right amount of force to restrict her gasping breaths and provide himself the amount of control over her as he loses himself in it all. His thrusts turn sloppy the closer he comes to his end, and he buries himself in deep one last time before spilling into her.

His face falls into her neck with a whine, teeth biting down on her shoulder to stifle the sound. Her constant clenching and unclenching helps him ride out his orgasm, and he continues to fuck into her in small, dying thrusts until every spurt of his release is trapped within her.

Y/N goes limp on the mattress beside him.

Her head has fallen back into its original place on the pillow, and all she can hear is him breathing heavily into her neck. Behind her, his chest rises and falls at a rapid rate against her back. The hand that was around her neck has slid down to rest against her stomach, holding her close as he always does in the vulnerable moments following his orgasm. All the excitement and emotion turns him into a clingy, needy little thing.

They lay like this for so long, limbs entangled in the sheets and racing hearts beginning to fall back into a normal rhythm, that she can't tell if it's been five minutes or ten when he finally speaks up. Sometime in between him collapsing onto the bed with her and now, he pulled out of her and repositioned himself against her. Both of his arms are snug around her waist, and his face is no longer buried in her neck but rather right beside hers. His cheek presses against hers as it had when they were in the midst of fucking, savoring the closeness shared between the two of them.

"I love you," he says softly.

It isn't the first time he's said it, but she always gets the same fluttering sensation in her stomach as though it is. As quickly as the anger and jealousy took control of him, turning him into a demanding and domineering lover, he shifts back into his usual nature with her. It's as though his mind goes on autopilot after having sex with her, exposing the true motivators that drove the anger. Insecurity. Fear of abandonment. Worry.

Knowing this, she doesn't hesitate to say it back.

"I love you more."

The feeling of his chest moving against her back with a soft huff of laughter brings a smile to her face.

"Believe me, that's not possible."

She then starts to shift around in place, forcing him to loosen his hold on her for a second or two until she has flipped over to face him. Those strong arms are quick to wrap around her waist and pull her in again, their bodies flush against one another.

"And why is that?" she asks, a teasing lilt in her voice.

He answers it so quickly, so sure, she cannot take it as anything other than honesty.

"I was made for you," Anakin whispers, reaching up to brush her hair away from her face. "There's no purpose for me in this life without our love."

Her brows furrow in concern.

"That's not true. You have purpose regardless of whether or not I'm here."

He shakes his head, just once, and when she cups the side of his face in the palm of her hand, he leans into the touch. The tip of her thumb caresses the scar cutting through his brow, moving down until she brushes his bottom lip.

He says, "I don't want to know what it's like to not have you in my life. It was easier before. I didn't know what was waiting for me. But, it's different now. If I lost you, I'd lose myself."

Her other hand moves to hold the other side of his face, leaving him with no choice but to look into her eyes and hear every word, every thought, and every feeling that passes through her.

"You aren't going to lose me."

The soft look in his eyes transforms into determination at this, and he allows his forehead to rest against hers as he repeats what she said in his mind over and over again to reassure himself.

-

A/N: It's been a long time, but here's part three! I hope you all enjoyed it.

Tag List: @juniebugg and @riley12.

[star-writes-sometimes]

look after each other

dealer!remus lupin x baker!reader

words: 1.8k

cw: pining, idiots in love, drug use, tension

---—---

remus always knows when you're upset.

remus watched as you were finishing the strawberry tarts. he was not so sneakily stealing strawberries as you hummed along to the soft music pouring out of the speakers. it was friday night but you wanted to drop them off to mrs silvia tonight so you could sleep in tomorrow. mrs silvia was a kind older woman who lived alone and spoke with an accent neither of you could place - though you did enjoy speculating about it - and every week she would order some kind of baked good from you. 

you put them all neatly in a box and said you'd be quick even though both of you knew that wasn't true. she only lived two floors below you but mrs silvia always chatted for just a tad too long whenever she saw either of you.

so, seventeen minutes later and counting he was browsing through netflix waiting for your return. it was his pick tonight and he knew no matter what he chose you'd tease him about it, but he didn't mind. just as he was starting to get restless you return. you smile softly at him as you lean on the doorframe for stability while you tug your shoes off.  

remus returns your smile and stares at you intently. his gaze feels sharp on you, you always feel exposed under his stare, like he can see all of your secrets. 

you start walking to the couch and flop down on the side closest to the door and run a hand over your face, feeling exhausted. remus cocks his head as his eyes follow you, squinting slightly as he continues study you.

“what’s wrong, angel?”

you met his gaze and glared playfully “nothin’. what's wrong with you remmy?”

he glares back and scrunches his nose up “don't lie, sweetheart it’s not a good habit.”

“says the drug dealer.”

“bunny” you hate that tone. it makes you want to tell him every little thought going through your brain. 

“‘m just tired rem. and my feet hurt those shoes are cute, but fuck do they hurt”

he smiles slightly before he furrows his brows. he noticed your absence over the past few weeks, spending less time with him and working more. he pulls your feet onto his lap and starts massaging them. you sigh contently shuffle around getting comfortable and mumble out a small “thank you” he only hums in response “what movie did you pick?” you ask.

“a new hope”

“again?” you ask in a teasing tone.

“yeah. whatchu got against episode 4?”

“nothin’ just the prequels are better."

“you only say that cause you think hayden christiensen is hot." he rolls his eyes.

“well yeah and ewan mcgregor but carrie fisher is gorgeous so that's not my reasoning. i like the storyline of the prequels better that’s all.”

“you kiddin’ me love? nothing beats watchin’ luke destroy the death star."

“nope wrong anakin and obi wans fight is the best. episode 3 is superior.” you yawn starting to feel the exhaustion catching up to you. 

remus gently smiles and rubs small circles on your ankle “how ‘bout we compromise, bunny? we’ll watch revenge of the sith then new hope. that way we both get our favourites." 

you pretend to consider this and over exaggeratedly tap your chin in thought “m’kay remmy you got yourself a deal.” you hold your hand out to shake. he takes it and squeezes gently. 

“go get changed baby i’ll make the popcorn.” he taps your foot to signal them to move so you slide them to the floor.

“can i borrow one of your sweaters?”

“i left one on your bed angel.”

“you’re the best remsy.”

he scrunches his nose up at the nickname and watches you disappear into your bedroom. you smile as you enter your room upon the sight of one of remus’ brown sweaters folded on your bed. you undress before pulling on the sweater, a pair of comfy boxer briefs and some fluffy socks.

once you’re done you go back into the living room to see remus with a bowl of popcorn and and two cups of tea on the coffee table. he’d taken off his own sweater and was now just relaxing on your couch in his faded graphic tee and grey sweatpants. he’s fiddling with the remote loading up revenge of the sith. 

“hey pretty boy.” you give him a tired smile.

“hey bunny. c’mere.” you fall onto the couch and remus pulls you into him, loving his arms around you and letting your head loll onto his chest. you lean back and look up to him grinning at him. “y’ready for a subpar star wars movie?" 

“if by subpar you mean the bestest most awesomest star wars movie then yes.”

“whatever you wanna believe, love.”

he only half watches the movie. you’d watched them together plenty of time before anyway, he was more interested in watching you. he saw you grow slowly more and more tired.

just as padme gives birth, you start snoring lightly against his chest. he pushes some stray hairs out of your face and kisses your forehead. “g’night bunny.”

—

and you always take care of remus.

the upbeat knocks on his door jolts remus out of his half asleep state sprawled out on his worn out couch. he sighs as he rises and cracks his back on the short walk to the door.

he swings it open to reveal a familiar smiling face holding a loaf of some kind of bread. he can't help but mirror your smile as he steps aside to invite you in.

“i heard you arrive home 20 minutes ago but i wanted to finish making my banana bread first so i could bring you some” you ramble on while heading towards the kitchen and placing it down on the small breakfast bar, then turning to face him again “mrs. silvia gave me some bananas yesterday apparently her son-” you’re cut off by remus’ arms wrapping around you and his head burying itself in your neck.

you softly start to run your hands through his hair while your other arm returns his impromptu hug. “you doin’ okay remmy?” you question softly but instead of responding his arms just tighten around you.

you furrow your brows and lean back slightly to grab his jaw and look into his eyes. “you high rem?”

“mhmm” 

“wanna go to bed?”

a beat passes before he slowly nods into your neck. you slowly untangle yourself from him and pull him into his bedroom. you face him and reach up to run your hands through his hair and down his face. he leans into your touch and closes his eyes. you move your hands lower and reach for the bottom of his sweater and slowly pull it over his head and onto the floor. he pulls you into a hug again and your arms go around your waist and lean into him. 

“remus dear?”

“yeah love?”

“please don’t take this the wrong way but when was the last time you showered?”

“um… maybe 4 days ago?”

“rem?” 

“yes?”

“can i run you a bath?”

“please angel.”

you giggle as you pull away and walk into his bathroom to start drawing a bath. there were plenty of bath products there already you had gifted him after you taught him how to use them properly. remus lingers in the doorway watching you intently. 

you can feel him lingering “strip, lupin.”

“if you wanted to see me naked pet you could've just asked.” he pulls his shirt off before fumbling with his jeans. he struggles a lot with the button before huffing and leaning against the wall. “babyyyy i need help.”

you sigh softly and move closer to him and undo his jeans “you got it from here pretty boy?” you tease lightly.

“you think i’m pretty?”

“course darlin’” 

he smiles and feels his face heat up. your comments always affect him more when he’s high. 

you watch him shyly turn his head away and smile fondly “the baths ready hon’ do ya need anythin’ else?”

he shakes his head, and you leave the room. once you hear the small click of the door closing you turn and head towards the kitchen. you cut up some of the banana bread and get two glasses of water. you take them to his bedroom and place them on his bedside table. you move around the room, lighting the few candles you had bought for him and grabbing some clean clothes for him. 

you knock on the bathroom door “rem, can i come in?”

“yeah, love.” his muffled voice replies.

you walk in and smile down at him. there were enough bubbles in the bath to preserve his modesty (not that he would have cared anyway) so you could only really see his shoulder and above. “i brought you some clean clothes babe for whenever you’re ready.”

“thanks angel.” he smiles, and you leave again.

you grab some painkillers for his unavoidable hangover in the morning. you decide to change into one of remus’ t-shirts and a spare pair of sleep bottoms you left there. you go back into the kitchen and start making two cups of tea. you set out two mugs and chose the tea bags but just as you start adding the sugar you hear a groan coming from the bathroom. you abandoned the tea and rushed to the bathroom.

as you walk in you seem remus on the floor, shirtless, with one leg inside his pyjama pants.

you can’t help the small giggle that escaped at the sight. “need help sugar?” 

“pleaseeee.” he gives you those stupid puppy dog eyes.

you help him to his feet and hold him to stabilise him while he puts his other leg into his pants. once his pants are securely on his hips you reach for his shirt and bunch it up to help him put his head through the hole. then, helping his arm goes into each sleeve. you smile and pat his chest.

you return to the kitchen and finish making the tea. you move to the sink to wash the teaspoon you used and the other few stray dishes when you feel his arms wrap around your waist. he snuggles into you and smells your hair. he starts slowly kissing your neck and rubbing small circles onto your hip bone with his hand.

“you’re being very affectionate,” you comment trying to come off as nonchalant despite leaning into his touch.

“i missed you.” he mumbled into your neck.

“you saw me this morning.”

“i know but it’s not enough.” he whines slightly in a way that is somehow endearing.

“seeing me every day isn’t enough? what did you take?” you snicker slightly.

“pads had some mushrooms. we’re not the right kind of close we need to be closer. i love you bunny.”

“i love you too remmy.”

“no not in the right way. not in the way i do.”

your breathe hitches. he was high. you force an insincere giggle “you’re so high baby. you ready for bed?”

“can you stay? please stay the night with me?”

“yeah, rem. i’ll stay.”

[bibiwrld]

Nerdy loser Anakin Skywalker!— Turned Bad Boy!

Pairing: Nerdy loser Anakin! x Black fem oc!

Author’s note: I honestly thought this was a cute and funny idea. Kinda short, but I’m thinking of a part 2, idk.

Bad boy! Bad boy!

Whatcha gonna do?

Can’t run away from ‘em

💋!

They weren’t girlfriend and boyfriend, that’s what they agreed on until Sydnee was ready and he was fine with that. Anakin thought what they had was special and he wouldn’t want to ruin it, but he couldn’t help but feel a little jealous when he’d see Sydnee talking to other guys around campus. They didn’t look like Anakin, they looked cooler— wearing fashionable and darker clothes, messy dark hair, piercings, always had a cigarette between their lips and they spoke with such vulgars words.

Was that allowed? Talking to other people?

Even if he wanted to, Anakin couldn’t, no other girl caught his eyes quite like Sydnee did. She was the only one for him.

He paced his living room with his phone to his ear, listening to it ring. “Pick up, pick up—”

“Anakin, it’s late, this better be some type of emergency.” Obi-Wan, his older brother, groaned.

“I-it is!” Anakin interjected, standing in place. “I met a girl.” His voice now a little more hushed.

Obi-Wan almost choked. “A girl?!”

“Don’t sound so shocked.” He said with rolled eyes. “I just need..a–a little advice.”

“I’m your older brother, that’s what I’m here for.”

“Do you think girls like edgy bad boys?” He plopped down on his couch.

“Some girls do, yeah. Girls think they’re cooler, more attractive, assertive. They like laid back guys, very nonchalant, guys who just don’t give a shit, y’know?”

Anakin was none of those things.

“I should just fake it, huh?” He adjusted his glasses.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Little did Obi-Wan know what he told his younger brother, was the worst advice ever.

Right after that phone call, Anakin went on a shopping spree. Buying a new wardrobe that consisted of dark tees with cool graphics, dark long sleeved shirts and baggy jeans. He also stopped at Target and bought black and blue hair dye, fake piercings and contact lenses.

He stood in front of his mirror, listening to the audiobook of The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, with a patch of blue in his hair.

He couldn’t believe he was going through with this. He looked at himself in the mirror, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling.

His arms grew tired as he dabbed a section of his hair with a hair dye brush coated in black hair dye. He prayed this came out good, finally putting a clear plastic cap on his head.

💋

“I was thinking of hitting up this club tomorrow night, I heard they got male strippers.” Lilian slowly scrolled on her phone giggling.

“Wait for real?” Chloe leaned all the way into Lilian trying to look at her phone. “Oh my God, they’re hot.”

Sydnee didn’t really care to look, she had other things to worry about, like where Anakin was. He didn’t send a good morning text like he usually does every morning, as he’s always up before her, she hasn’t seen him around campus and it usually doesn’t take long for her to see him walking around.

“What’s your problem, Sydnee?” June asked with obvious attitude, chewing her gum obnoxiously as her nails clicked against her phone.

Sydnee doesn’t know why she still hung around this girl, she was so rude and annoying. “I’m just wondering where Anakin is, that’s all.”

“Now that you mention it, I didn’t see him in Physics today.” Chloe rested her chin into her palm, suddenly thinking about Anakin.

“Seriously girl?” June scoffed. “You’re still hung up on that guy? It was one thing to fuck him, but to actually give a shit about him is crazy.”

Sydnee’s fist balled up, slowly turning her head towards the obnoxious snob. Before Sydnee or Chloe could say something in defense of Anakin, Lilian cut them off.

“Is that..is that Anakin?” Her tone was a mix of surprised and a bit of disbelief.

Sydnee quickly turned around, searching the busy cafeteria for the boy with glasses, but she didn’t see him at all. She squinted, then noticed a tall guy in an army green tee, baggy ash jeans, grey converse and black, messy hair, sluggishly walking over to them.

She could only stare in awe, her eyes just following him as he got closer. She noticed he had on black eye shadow, messily smeared on his lids.

He dropped his bag on the floor, sitting beside Sydnee. “Hey doll face.” He removed the cigarette from his lips, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

“Doll face?” Sydnee silently muttered to herself. He’s never talked like that, ever.

“Sup girls?” He nodded to the 3 girls.

“Uh..hey?” Lilian rose a brow.

“What’s with the look?” Chloe asked.

He focused hard on every word, trying not to stutter.

“Can’t a guy express himself?” He snapped, slouching and spreading his legs.

“I think he looks better this way.” June gave small nods.

Of course she did.

Sydnee rolled her eyes at June, then brought her attention back to Anakin. She reached her hand out to fix his hair . “You have bed head, Ani—”

He corrected her, moving his head so she couldn’t touch it. “Anakin and that’s just how my hair is.”

“Well Anakin, you missed Physics class.” She narrowed her eyes at him, taken back by his actions. “And you didn’t text me, I was worried.” Her voice softened, a pout on her lips.

He took a small drag from his cigarette. “Woke up late.” It took everything in him not to choke.

“You never wake up late.” Her brows furrowed.

“Are you wearing eye makeup?” Chloe leaned over, examining him.

His voice was a bit shaky, trying to maintain that dominant tone. “No…?”

“Okay, liar.” Lilian chuckled.

Sydnee looked him over and over again, noticing every detail about him. She didn’t hate the look, but she was a bit confused.

“What’s with the cigarette? You don’t even smoke cigarettes.” Sydnee felt like she was losing her mind. “And your hair…did you dye this yourself? And when did you get all these piercings?”

Anakin shrugged. “I’ve found myself, y’know?”

Sydnee knew something was up, but she didn’t know what. “Where are your glasses?”

“Don’t need em.” Smoke escaped his pink lips.

“Can you stop with the smoking? We’re indoors.” She screwed up her face.

“Whatever.” He took the cigarette from his lips, smushing it at the heel of shoe, then flicked it off somewhere.

June then jumped in. “Why don’t you stop complaining and appreciate that your boy toy looks hot?”

That was it.

Sydnee grabbed her bag and abruptly stood up. “Go fuck each other.” Looking June and Anakin in the eyes before storming off.

Anakin internally panicked, this wasn’t going how he planned it was.

“What’s her deal?” June screwed up her face.

“You obviously don’t know what the deal is because there is no fucking deal.” He spat before grabbing his bag to chase after Sydnee.

Sydnee hustled down the hall, stepping harshly with arched brows.

“Sydnee!” His voice called out. “Sydnee!”

She rolled her eyes and stopped walking, leaning against the wall with crossed arms. “What is it, Anakin?”

“Y-you’re mad.” He frowned, standing in front of her.

“Well duh.”

“I-I’m sorry.” He breathed out. “I thought you’d like m-me..like this.”

“I don’t hate how you look, but the way you’re acting, why would I like that?” She looked away.

“B-Because I saw you talking t-to guys…that l-looked like this.” He breathed out. “I-I thought i-if I–uh— if I looked and acted like them, maybe you’d l-like me more.” He hung his head low.

Her arms gradually unfolded at his confession. “Anakin, what?”

“I-I know, it’s sooo em-embarrassing.” He groaned. “I-I hate cigarettes!” He then tugged off one of the fake earrings. “Th-these aren’t even real!”

Sydnee couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re too cute, Anakin.” She cupped his face, bringing it down to hers.

“Call me Ani, plea-please, I like it when you call m-me that.” He nuzzled his face into her hands.

She couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t ever change yourself, I like you just as you are.” She brought her lips to his, tasting the cigarette he smoked, but she didn’t care.

His hands found her waist, bringing her in closer.

The smacking of their lips were the only things heard in the empty halls. She softly tugged on his bottom lip, making him moan out.

“So cute.” She muttered before pulling away. “You do look really hot though.”

“Really?” He beamed.

“Yeah.” She bit her lip. “How about we go back to your place and fuck with your little bad boy cosplay on, hm?”

He covered his mouth in excitement. “Oh my God, y-you’re so insanely a-attractive.”

She giggled, holding his hand. “Come on, bad boy Anakin.”

💋

[fireflyinks]

clumsy mess

innocent! virgin! reader x dbf joel miller smut

summary : the reader is a clumsy mess and joel is all for it

MATURE 18+

I knew it was wrong. Every bone in my body knew it. The way my heart would thump when he was around, and how I would melt in his hands if he ever were to merely touch me, it was truly mortifying.

Yet there was something about it that felt so right.

Joel sat at the kitchen table, playing poker with my father and a few of their other friends. My dad was work buddies with Joel, so he would come over often.

I could smell beer coming from the room, as I watched a horror movie with a couple of their daughters.

“Y/n/n!” My dad called from the table.

“Yes?” I yelled back, wondering what he could want.

I had been dreading the entire night; having to spend time with a couple of spoiled teenage girls I didn’t even like, I was really yearning to be in the dining room, just Joel and I, bouncing up and down on his big-

“Get us some more beers!”

I groaned, standing up from the couch and walking into the kitchen. I opened the fridge, grabbing six cold beers.

Passing them around the table, I couldn’t help but stare at him. Him. The way he left a button or two loose to show off his chest, and how he was so much older than me yet so fucking attractive-

One of the beers slipped from my hands, falling on the floor and shattering into millions of pieces. I was stunned, quickly stepping back from the scene.

“I- I’m so sorry.” I muttered out, embarrassed.

It had been Joel’s beer that I lost control of, and my cheeks flushed as he looked down at the busted mess.

“It’s alright,” Dad said, chuckling, “I’ll get your mom to clean it up. Be careful, don’t step on any glass.”

I nodded, skillfully walking away from the mess.

Going to grab another beer, I felt a hand snake around my waist. I jumped, still shaken from my accident.

“Hey, it’s alright. Why don’t you come with me? I have something to show you.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, “What is it, Joel?”

“It’s a surprise, just follow me.”

So I did, walking up the stairs and down the hall till we had reached my bedroom.

“Precious, I just need to ask you something.” Joel spoke in a deep, husky voice.

“Yes?”

“Don’t you think it’s dirty that you have a crush on your daddy’s friend?”

My heart dropped, my breath going with it.

“I-“ I stammered “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“Don’t play dumb sugar, I see the way you look at me.”

I gasped as he smirked devilishly. My lower lip shook, nerves shocked.

“Aw it’s okay, I’ve been thinking about you too.” He pushed hair out of my face and behind my ear. “I can only imagine how good those lips would look around my cock.”

I was getting pleasure from just hearing his words. My cunt became a needy mess, so I began to rub my legs together.

Joel noticed, smiling down at me.

“Would you like that? You want my cock?” He teased, titling my chin up with his index finger and thumb.

I nodded quickly, earning a chuckle from him.

“Get on the bed.” Joel commanded, and I did so.

He unbuckled his belt, pulling his jeans and boxers down. His cock sprung forth. My eyes widened as I looked at his size.

It was big. Very big.

“Go ahead, suck on it.”

I took a nervous breath, staying still.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, confused.

“I’ve never done this before.” I admitted, my cheeks turning a shade of crimson.

“Aw that’s okay baby, let me show you how.”

He angled his member with my throat, before pushing in the tip, thrusting back and fourth in my mouth. Each time he’d go a little deeper, causing me to grunt.

“Good girl. That’s it. Now do it by yourself.”

I bobbed my head on his cock slowly, using my hand to pump the length that didn’t fit. He threw his head back, moaning softly.

“That’s it, you’re a natural.” I continued until my mouth started to feel sore. Looking up at him, needingly, he took it as a sign.

“Does my good girl want to be fucked now? Hm?”

I nodded.

“Come on, I need to hear you say it.” Joel warned sternly.

“Please, I want your cock daddy.”

Joel began to take my shirt off, revealing my lace pink bra.

“Fuck, you look so pretty.” He said under his breath, unhooking the back. My tits released, bouncing once he let them loose. He groped them, causing me to whimper.

“Tell me where you want me.”

I groaned, “In my pussy. I want you in my pussy.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “Imagine if your dad heard you saying that. Begging for his friends cock.”

Joel pulled down my shorts, then took off my underwear. He teased my entrance with his middle finger, before pushing it in and fucking me with it.

I whined in pleasure. Then he added another digit. Then another. Then another.

My pussy slowly adjusted to his fingers, until I was rocking my hips back and forth.

“Okay, I think you’re ready, sugar.”

He pulled his fingers out, lining his cock with my entrance.

“I’m gonna push in slow. Tell me if it hurts or if you want me to stop.” He groaned as he entered me.

“Daddy!” I moaned, back arching. The amount pleasure out numbered the pain.

“Okay, daddy you can move.” I hummed, eyes closed from pleasure.

He rocked his hips back and fourth, progressing in speed with every thrust.

“You like how I’m fucking you, baby? You want my cum? Oh, imagine how your dad would react if i fucked a baby into you. Oh you’re such a clumsy mess, I’m surprised you haven’t came by accident by now. ” He cooed, grunting.

My stomach began to feel tight and tingly. I moaned, throwing my head back.

“I think I’m close!”

“Go ahead, come for me. Be a good girl and come for me.”

I came on his cock, just as he pulled out and released on my tummy. More and more cum came out till I was a sticky mess. My head felt light as I laid back on the bed.

Joel picked me up, taking me to the bathroom and running water for a bath. Once i got in, he pressed a gentle kiss on my lips before turning around towards the door.

“I gotta go tell your dad you were feeling sick or something. I can come back next week, your dad has a business trip.” He smiled, winking.

Southern charm would be the end of me.

[gingiesworld]

I See You (6/6)

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings : Angst and fluff

18+ MINORS DNI

Wanda was beside herself as she lay in her bed, she knew she needed to go to the police and tell them about Jarvis. Everything from when he tried to rape her.

"It will be fine Wanda." Pietro reassured her as she shook her head. Ms Y/L/N had also come by to know what had happened and why Y/N was arrested.

"They're in a detention centre." Y/M/N told them. Miss Maximoff held her hand as she let a few tears escape. "Why did they beat up Stark's kid?"

"It's ok Wanda." Pietro encouraged her, she took a deep breath and struggled to get her words out, so Pietro recalled everything he remembered from that night, leading up to Y/N beating Jarvis up.

"Wanda." Miss Maximoff spoke softly as Wanda cried.

"I'm sorry mama." She sobbed as the two older women shook their heads at her.

"This is not your fault Wanda." Y/M/N told her. "Y/N knew what they were doing."

"But." Wanda tried to tell them about the note and meeting Jarvis.

"It isn't your fault." She told her sternly. "Y/N doesn't blame you for this. They keep asking me how you are."

"I could have stopped him." She whispered as her mom and Y/M/N just observed her.

"No." Pietro told her. "You couldn't have. Y/N wouldn't want you to become some dick's plaything. It was their choice to stop you from doing. They knew what they were getting into."

"I'll tell the police." She said barely above a whisper. "I'll tell them everything."

And that is what she did, she told the police, who also even had the neighbours who had also heard Wanda scream from the house next door. The police had also arrested a very angry Jarvis as his parents were also yelling after the cops as they put him inside the car.

"You did it Wan." Pietro cheered his sister who still looked as broken as the day Y/N was arrested.

"Did I?" She asked him. "Y/N is still in jail and now so is Jarvis, but he will get bail since his parents are rich."

"No Wanda. He has lost every chance at a scholarship or even playing in the pro leagues." He told her. "Besides, Y/N's lawyer will be helping them." He just wrapped his arms around her and held her as she cried.

As the days went by, word had gotten around about Jarvis losing his scholarships and being suspended until graduation. Y/N was still in jail, waiting for things to be cleared up.

Wanda had Pietro, Darcy and Monica by her side as most of Jarvis's friends had started to single her out because of her accusations.

"Slut." One of Jarvis's side pieces pushed her into the lockers. Wanda took a deep breath as she remained on her feet. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before she went to her next class. That was what her days were like for weeks.

One morning as she was stood beside her locker, her friends just down the hall as she was pushed into the locker once more.

"Hey!!" A voice boomed from down the hall, Pietro was stood smiling as Wanda still hadn't recognised who it is. "Leave her alone."

When Wanda had finally looked up, she smiled when she saw Y/N walking down the hall. She just decided to shut her locker and run straight to them.

"I missed you." She whispered into their neck as she ran right into their arms.

"I missed you too." They smiled, holding her closer than before. When they pulled back from the hug, they looked into her eyes concerned. "Has that been happening a lot?"

"Yeah but it doesn't matter." Wanda shrugged as Y/N shook their head.

"Of course it matters." They told her. "I am going to walk you to every class sweet heart."

"What about yours?" She asked them.

"So I'm a little late." They shrugged as the caressed her cheek. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please." Wanda leaned on her toes as Y/N pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. Neither caring that students were still in the hallway.

"Let's get you to class." Y/N told her, wrapping their arm around her shoulders as she wrapped hers around their waist. Wanda couldn't stop smiling at all. Even the name calling that she still recieved couldn't make her smile fade away.

"So, what's basketball going to be like for you?" Pietro asked them as they shrugged.

"I think my dream of making it professional is over but I don't care." They told him. "As long as Wanda is safe, that is all I care about."

As soon as Y/N and Pietro fell into an easy conversation, Wanda couldn't help but think about if they would resent her in the future. Especially since their dream has always been to play in the NBA.

It plagued her mind for weeks until the end of Junior year. Y/N had noticed that she had sort of drifted away from them and they wanted to know why.

"Why are you being distant with me?" They asked her when she opened her bedroom door.

"I'm not." She whispered as Y/N closed the door.

"You are Wanda. You have barely spoken to me for weeks. You have cancelled on our dates and I need to know why? What did I do?" They asked her as she shook her head. Tears falling down her face.

"I just." She wiped her eyes as she played with the hem of her shirt. Y/N's shirt that she had stolen from them. "I don't want you to resent me."

"Why would I resent you?" They asked her.

"Because you won't be playing for the NBA." She whispered as they smiled softly.

"I don't care about that Wanda." They told her. "Dreams can change. Evolve even and having you by my side for the rest of my life has been my dream for as long as I can remember." They caressed her cheek. "So please don't shut me out, I love you Wanda, so fucking much."

"I love you too." She whispered as they soon captured her lips in their own. Kissing her with an urgency that they have never really felt before. Wanda felt with this kiss that she had found her forever person.

10 years later

"So that was when you knew they were the one?" Billy asked as Wanda ran her fingers through his hair.

"I guess my heart always knew but it took my mind and eyes to finally catch up." She told them both.

"Is that why you both always say I See You?" Tommy asked.

"Yes. It's like our mantra." She told them before kissing both of their heads. "Now sleep before I sell all of your toys." She told them jokingly before she turned out the light. Waiting for Y/N to get home.

When they had finished college, they decided to go into advertisement. Wanting to at least have a stable career to support their family.

"How was work?" Wanda asked as Y/N walked through the door.

"Tiring." They told her with a smile before kissing her cheek. Heading straight to the kitchen. Although Wanda had already cooked dinner, Y/N just warmed their food up before sitting at the table to eat as Wanda cleaned around them. Never expecting Wanda to wait to eat with them. "But it is much better now I am home."

"Good." She smiled before handing them a beer. "The boys wanted to hear about our love story."

"Again?" Y/N smiled as Wanda nodded.

"Again." She smiled as Y/N held her waist, swaying slightly before they kissed her softly.

"I love that story." They told her.

"Me too." She kissed them once more before they resumed their dancing in the kitchen. Living the dream together.

Taglist : @dark-hunter16 @whitewidowsbite @marvelwomen-simp @canvascoloredin @idkbubs

[macabre-mangled]

Love Like Wolves

OBI-WAN KENOBI X READER (gender neutral)

WARNINGS: canon typical violence and innuendos, insecurity (on readers end), brief mention of small age gap

SUMMARY: Obi-Wan assures you you're his despite it being secret

A/N: hot dilf. I also don't proofread my writing so deal with it lmao

Satine was gorgeous. You'd admit that. She also was so kind which made it hard when she was clearly showing interest in your lover. Obi-Wan wasn't flirting back by any means, but that didn't stop the hands of that ugly feeling to take hold of your brain. You of course masked it with the force, knowing that he could sense it otherwise. He could definitely tell something was wrong, but didn't have any idea what. You excused yourself to go and lick your wounds like a cowardly youngling. If Obi-wan was concerned he didn't voice it.

In our quarters you didn't find much peace either. in fact you had been pacing, your lightsaber clinking in its holster as you did. You know Obi-Wan would never be disloyal despite no one knowing about you two. He's not the type. However; it also means he can't publicly claim you. Maker, you sound so primitive. Is that really what we are in the end? Just like animals? Are you the same as a loth wolf? They mate for life. Does Obi view you as his life partner? All These thoughts swarmed your head like wasps. Obi was older than you, surely he's smart enough to not throw away a good thing. At least you hoped so.

"They're a good catch, Master Kenobi."

saltines eyes glittered as she spoke, A knowing glint in her eyes. Obi took notice and looked around in panic.

"Relax, I will not speak of it to anyone."

"If I may ask; how did you know?"

Obi-Wan didn't think he was THAT obvious. Or was he? Maker, he hopes not.

"The way you look at them. Its not obvious, but if someone knows where to look they can tell. Now, I will be taking my leave."

He watches Satine go. He surely hopes no one heard their conversation. Maker knows how much trouble he'd be in if the council found out. he wouldn't be able to take it if they took you from him. You're his light in the dark. He NEEDS you. Although now he's picking up on your distress. How did he not notice before? He starts off towards your quarters. He knows how you get. He just hopes you'll be in the mood to let him calm you down.

Upon his arrival he knocks twice then three times; the secret knock you two have. When you open the door he's greeted with your glare. Oh maker, what did he do? He doesn't recall doing anything. Your strained voice startles him out of his reverie.

"How's Satine? You two have fun making eyes at each other?"

Your tone gave away your emotions, something Jedi are not supposed to do. But right now you didn't care. Realization hit Obi-Wan's face.

"Darling, we weren't doing anything of that sort. Satine knows about us."

He calmly said in something just above a whisper as he slowly moved to cradle you in his arms. You let your shoulders fall. you knew this was ridiculous. Of course he wouldn't. You knew that, but maker that feeling took you by the horns. So you gathered all your courage to ask him the one question you had in the back of your mind.

"Do you see me as a life partner? Like would you marry me if you could?"

If he hadn't been right next to you he wouldn't have heard it. But he did and it made his heart ache how small you sounded. He knew you had insecurities, but never had he heard you sound so unsure. The answer was obvious he thought.

"Of course my darling, It's only you. We're bonded like loth wolves. Nothing or anyone will change that."

You snuggled closer to him at his words but his hand held you softly by the chin to look into his eyes. His eyes held an unspoken question and yours held the answer.

[kumabeom]

this love - kang taehyun

letter 6 ; i want your complications too, i want your dreary mondays. wrap your arms around me 🫂

synopsis: what happens when soccer player!kang taehyun, who isn’t focused on school but is smart enough to pass, sees yn walk in the hallways nearly everyday after homecoming. taehyun’s new hallway crush begins to grow into something bigger, but what happens when he has to make a choice between yn or continuing to fail school ? will taehyun be able to focus on sports, classes, and trying to win yn over ?

your took small little licks of the sweet, icy cold yet soft ice cream. a small smile applied onto your face as you practically beamed with happiness as the sugary treat entered your mouth. taehyun took bites of his ice cream cone, the waffle’s satisfying crunch as he bit into the cone. he witnessed your cute appreciation for the treat as you continued to eat the ice cream. his eyes beamed with joy, he put what was remaining of the ice cream cone into his mouth.

taehyun took a look at his phone, receiving notifications from twitter. even seeing a reply from you on the most recent tweet that he posted. he clicked on a notification from beomgyu, seeing his quote retweet.

“yn..” taehyun slowly spoke up, small hesitation in his voice. you turned your head, continuing to eat at the ice cream cone.

“yeah ?”

“how come… beomgyu looks after you so much ?” he straightforwardly asked, it wasn’t like it bothered him, of course not.. he knew that you and beomgyu were just friends, probably more than friends, and not in the romantic way. he truly felt like beomgyu was your older brother at times.

“beomgyu..? i don’t really know.. he’s never told me why exactly. y’know, there was a time in my life where not everyone really liked me, taehyun. not everyone was nearly as accepting as you have been… i think, one day.. he felt pity for me. i never told him that i believed that, he was my only friend, i didn’t want to scare him off..” you explained.

“well.. now you have more people to depend on.. you don’t have to go through things alone… but- why didn’t people like you..?” he felt odd asking, feeling as if maybe he was pushing his boundaries, but his mouth moved faster than his brain did.

“honestly… i have no idea. i think it has something to do with my family, our neighborhood isn’t that big taehyun, i’ve probably known your longer than you think i have.. when you live in a small town, a single mistake can ruin your entire family’s reputation. nearly all of my siblings left this place, so i wan the only one to face the repercussions of their mistakes.. they all came back once they felt like it was ‘safe’. i think that’s why- but I’m not 100% sure why people didn’t like me. it’s not like i used to socialize that much to make people upset a me.

what about you.. what was wrong with you and your friends today..?” you continued.

“they think i’m moving to fast..” he simply replied. trying to avoid the topic of nari and how she dumped him during his soccer game’s half time. he refused to talk to you about that, he was ashamed of the idea of bringing up his ex while the two of you were enjoying each other’s company.

“well.. do you think your moving too quick ?”

“with you.. no..? not at all, i think it seems that way.. but isn’t the whole point of relationships to listen your feelings and do what you believe is right ? as long as you feel comfortable with everything.. i think we’re moving at a really good pace.”

you stayed silent, not in a way to shun taehyun and his rant. but rather a comfortable silence, taehyun felt relaxed with you. he felt like he could spill any of his emotions and thoughts to you, and he was sure that you were bound to understand. you had proven yourself to be so much more understanding than his friends, and he loved that. he loved that he could tell you anything, he could get anything off of his chest, and he was sure that you would still be by his side.

taehyun tilted his head, you watched as he seemed to contemplate a few things. you finished your ice cream, wiping your hands on a brown napkin. he got up from the wooden bench where the two of you had sat to enjoy the ice cream cones, taehyun pulled out his hand. you looked at his hands and then your eyes led towards his face. a tiny smile on his face, as you took his hand, getting up from the bench.

“how long until you have to go home ?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“mmm- keep me out as long as you need, it’s better if i get home as late as possible.” you grinned, although your statement ended up making taehyun feel a bit sad for you. his heart ached at the thought of you purposely wanting to go home as late as you can because of your family.

taehyun kept a safe hold on your hand, he felt unnaturally warm. he felt like his heart was melting, at this rate he wasn’t sure if he’d make it throughout the day. his eyes stayed focused on the sidewalk, ensuring that the two of you were going exactly where he wanted the two of you to go. he was sure to keep you on the inside of the sidewalk.

he turned to take a few looks at you, his mind becoming corrupted in innocent little thoughts, his eyes becoming distracted by your reddish lips. he feels himself becoming a bit too distracted, bringing his focus back to the destination that he had in mind. he knew you would love the place that he was guiding you towards.

“tyun… where are we headed ?” you asked, knowing completely well that he wasn’t going to spill any of his secrets or surprises. but you still attempted to ask. in reality, the destination was only a few minutes away, like a block away.. but taehyun was having a bit too much fun walking with you while holding your hand. plus, it wasn’t like you really cared that taehyun was procrastinating on taking you home, in fact it just benefited the both of you.

“we’re going somewhere, promise that you’ll like it… don’t you trust me ?” and in all honesty, taehyun’s heart was still pounding like crazy after you gave him a nickname. and yeah, he had many people call him ‘tyun’ like soobin and yeonjun, but something was different when it fell off of your tongue.

“… i-.. i do. i trust you.” you hesitated, not fully believing your statement. you trusted him in this situation, but with the general question ‘do you trust me ?’ you couldn’t say that you did. but taehyun hadn’t done anything to prove otherwise, so far. there was also something in your gut that was telling you to trust the boy, something about him made you feel his sincerity, like he truly wanted to love you.

he turned the corner, as you followed behind. your eyes landed on a greenhouse. the amount of times that you had explored the town and you had never noticed the small greenhouse that was filled with a variety of flowers. taehyun led you inside the garden, it was rather spacious. taehyun closed the glass door behind him, watching as you admired the flowers that stayed safe from the cold breeze outside of the greenhouse.

you paused in front of the red roses, crouching in front of the flowers. plucking one from its stem, touching its soft rosy petals. eyes appreciating the form of life, a smile was brought to your face. eyes full of admiration and love for the flower.

“do y’know what a red rose means ?” you ask, turning your head towards taehyun, tilting your head to one side, bringing the rose close to your lips, smelling the scent that came off of the rose. petals slightly grazing your lips. taehyun came to crouch down across from you, the red rose filling the gap between the two of you. the sun creeping into the greenhouse, the sun shining on taehyun’s face, making his skin glow. the sunlight highlighting his lips, pink lips looking nearly kissable.

“of course i do.. love and passion.” he whispered, holding the rose with two fingers as you still kept your hold on it, but taehyun slowly let go. his hands still being held out. as you used your free hand to move his hands around the rose. he held it close to his chest, the two of you looked at each other. hearts pounding, taehyun kept one hand around the rose as he placed a hand on your chin. attempting to move you closer to him, his breath hitched, as so did yours. your eyes stayed on his lips, moving between his eyes and lips. you knew that maybe you should’ve stopped this from happening, but at the same time.. you wanted it so badly.

taehyun brought the rose up to your ear, as it stayed there, safely holding itself in place. your face moved closer to taehyun’s, beginning to feel a bit desperate for whatever he had in stock. your hands balanced yourself, holding onto taehyun’s button up as the two of you were still in your school uniform. you attempted to move him closer towards you. you felt his sweet lips graze against yours.

however,

you eventually felt a wet drop on your arm, followed by multiple drops. startling you, causing you to fall back. taehyun took your hand, preventing your fall from being worse than it could’ve been. he picked up the rose that fell out from its spot above your ear.

“you okay ?” taehyun asked, genuinely worried even though your fall wasn’t as bad as he thought it was. sitting still as the sprinklers continued to spray the water to hydrate the flowers.

“heh- i’m all good.” you giggled, smile displayed all over your face. a rosy blush on the both of your faces. still in disbelief that the two of you nearly kissed, and if it wasn’t for the damn sprinklers, then you would’ve been perfectly happy.

taehyun stood up, pulling out his hand for you. as you accepted his hand, reaching out for his hand. your hair progressively getting wetter as so did your clothing. the two of you ran out of the greenhouse, laughter and chuckles exiting your mouths. as soon as kang taehyun got the two of you out of the greenhouse, he took off his jacket.

he placed his jacket around you, as it hung from your shoulders. the rosy blush that had once left was now returning as you stood shyly in front of taehyun. he ruffled your wet strands a bit, getting out any leaves and dirt from your hair.

“you really do take great care of me, taehyun.”

“how can i not, you’re too pretty for me to just abandon you.. promise i’ll treat you better than they’ve treated you.” taehyun spoke, you knew exactly who ‘they’ is.. your family, past bullies and others who have treated you terribly. you couldn’t help but let out a toothy grin.

“first get me to the bus stop and then you can make me swoon.”

©️kumabeom

this love taglist : @run2seob @soobadooba @soobnuuy @pockychuwu @crazynyctophilia @rencarnationofangel @esther-kpopstan @mrsyawnzzn @matcha-binz @michinri @hanstarrs @ariam-96 @pinkheadflowers @kittyhyuka @run4gyu

an: sorry for not posting, i had midterms and finals… i also got a bit distracted by my demon and sweet home season 2 !!! ahhh song kang is literally filling my mind up 24/7 !! it’s definitely his year for acting !! n e way.. how do we feel about this ??

[doyouknowthischaracter]

Do you think the polls are inherently biased, because the well-known characters will be shared more wheras the unknown characters might never even reach their bubble where they are actually known by a lot of people?

Short answer is no.

Long answer is: well, if we want to be pedantic, an argument could be made that no method of collecting data via surveys, even self-administered surveys, is completely free of bias because that's just human nature and all you can do is minimize it by wording questions neutrally, trimming outliers, etc etc. With that out of the way, one very important thing to note here is that this isn't an opinion survey. The question being asked is very straightforward and the answer is not something that can be swayed or influenced by peer pressure, propaganda, unwillingness to disclose private information, or any other factors, be they internal or external. You either know a character or you don't. I mean, people could certainly lie, in either direction, but 1) why would you do that?? it's not even like we have winners or losers here, and 2) there's nothing I can do about it anyway.

Now, when it comes to sampling bias (which, from what I understand, is what you're actually asking about) my answer is still no, I don't think that's accurate. Popular characters will reach more people and get more votes overall precisely because they're more popular. If this were a tournament style blog or if I were asking your opinion on the character in question, then yes, I could definitely see how more well-known characters would be at an unfair advantage (or how tagging the polls with the character's name is encouraging that bias, as it's been suggested before), but this is not that! Well-known characters reaching their bubbles faster/more efficiently than obscure characters is an inherent part of being more popular. Everything is working as intended.

All that being said, there are a few factors which I think could influence results somewhat unfairly, but I wouldn't necessarily call them bias. They're more like limitations of the medium.

Firstly, the time and day of the week when a poll is published. I don't have access to this kind of data right now, but off the top of my head, I'd say Sundays around 10pm is when Tumblr users are most active. That, coupled with the fact that most users are from the United States, means that polls that come out of the queue on US Sundays during that time window have a chance to reach more people than all the others. However, this potential problem is organically circumvented by people going back to see previously posted polls, finding polls through reblogs or from tag searches, etc. So it's not really a significant difference. I haven't noticed the numbers reflecting this yet either, but in theory that's how social media works, so I thought it was worth pointing out.

Secondly, polls that were posted early on when the blog had fewer followers reached less people, on average, than polls being posted at the moment or that will be posted in the future. No argument there, that's just a fact. But, again, this is a limitation of the medium. Potentially, I could repost older polls at some point in the future and reassess characters' popularity, but how do I choose which ones? All of them? Wouldn't we just get stuck in a loop of reposting the same characters over and over then? That'd be no fun. So I don't really think there's anything to be done here, unfortunately.

Thirdly, meme-able characters will be see better engagement and consequently higher numbers of votes. Point in case, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Once again, not something that can be helped, not really. I do my best to maintain uniformity in how I format the polls and which pictures I choose (as high quality as I can find, cropped adequately, consistent size, etc.). But some characters will just have better chances of being shared around by virtue of featuring in memes or having some recognizable line or something like that.

To sum it up, overall I don't think there's an inherent bias in how the polls work at the moment. I do think there are certain factors that could marginally influence voting numbers, but not the votes themselves. (Which is why I've decided to compile two separate lists, by number of votes and by percentage-- they measure slightly different things, but that's a post for another day.) As long as every follower of this blog is delivered every poll to their dash and everyone pinky promises not to lie and screw up my numbers on purpose, then I'd say we're golden.

This is probably more than you asked for lol, but hopefully it all makes sense. And as always, feel free to share your opinion. I'm always happy to hear it!

[oliiroo]

I saw @nerdynuala’s art of Rosie petting Alastor’s tuffs, (absolutely adorable, I am so soft) so here we are. ✨ This is what formulated in result. 👀

—

“Ah, ah, ahhh-” Alastor sang in warning, the pointy tip of his microphoned staff pressing firmly into the shoulder of the spider demon in front of him. “That alcohol is clearly impairing your sense of judgement. I will warn you one more time… no touching.” His voice held a tint of playfulness, but every other nuance screamed forewarning.

The strain of his outwardly playful voice was ever so apparent, static in every other syllable growing more noticable as Angel’s persistence continued.

It was easy for one to deduce that Angel must have been pestering Alastor for some time now, leaving the radio demon’s already thin line of patience wanning even more so.

“Come ooon!” Angel let out an exasperated sigh, smacking the older demon’s microphone away from his shoulder, a dull ache left behind. “You might even enjoy it. I’m quite good with my hands, you know.” There was certain a trill to Angel’s voice that induced a spike of ire in the radio demon.

His smile tightened, a single eye twitching and as if on cue, the lights in the hotel lobby flickered warningly.

“Ah- Ahhh! Uh.. whatssssss’ um.. er- going on here, might I ask?” Sir Pentious interrupted abruptly, fingers twiddling with the ends of his suit coat awkwardly. There was a barely audible ringing becoming more and more unbearable to tolerate. It was another sign coming from Alastor that Angel’s little drunken game had gone on long enough.

Sir Pentious was not about to let things escalate further… for all of their sakes.

“Oh, nothin’.” Angel muttered, defeat in his voice. “Smiley over here is being a tightwad, s’all.”

“Aha... is that sssso?” Sir Pentious was not convinced.

“Angel is determined to test a rumor he’s heard about. I’m not even quite sure where he heard of such a frivolous thing.”

“Oh?” Sir Pentious cocked his head.

“Al’s ears are apparently suuuuper soft according to a certain joyous overlord. I jus’ wanted to test it out myself s’all, but mr. ‘stick in the ass’ over here won’t let me… not even a little touch.”

“Allow your imagination to run wild, my friend!”

Tch. “How boring.”

“Better than missing a limb, I’d imagine.” Alastor’s eyes narrowed challengingly, smile unwavering.

“Ehh, it’d grow back.” Angel shrugged with a frown. “You’re an enigma and it pisses me the hell off, ya kno-..”

Angel’s words were cut off as he watched the other enigmatic character who appeared out of nowhere start climbing up Alastor’s tall stature, giggling as she did so.

“Niffty! I-I wouldn’t do that if I were you!” Sir Pentious cried out, reaching towards her as if he was planning to grab her from Alastor’s shoulders before it was too late.

However, Niffty was quick to finally put all curiousity to rest, climbing to the appendages in question, grabbing them with vigor. She fumbled with the tuffs joyously.

“Suuuuper soft!” She giggled.

Angel’s and Sir Pentious’s eyes flicked from Niffty to Alastor speechless, hearts beginning to pick up pace.

…Oh shit.

Alastor’s smile had not faltered, but his eyes were clenched closed, a wrinkle very much visible just between his arched brows. After a moment, Alastor let out a defeated sigh of his own, shoulders dropping and attention moving upwards towards his favorite little companion.

“Well, I suppose the mystery has been solved!” Alastor hummed, seemingly unbothered.

Angel stared dumbfounded, gawking at the sight before him, “That’s it?!”

Niffty clearly had the ear touching pass, and quite frankly, Angel was offended.

“I don’t know what you expected.” Husk suddenly joined in from afar, stationed at the bar. “Everything about that red head is infuriating.” He muttered under his breath while cleaning out a whiskey glass.