#actually my work day made me lose it. but drawing this kept me together

[newttxt]

a smile so rare, it counts as a disguise :)

[armoreddragon]

how did you first get into making this stuff? do you enjoy it?

There's a lot of possible answers here.

For a couple years after college, I worked at a laser engraving and cutting shop. Leather was a material we knew we could cut, but nobody ever asked for it, so I looked up some basic info and put together some masks as demo pieces. Then I got fired for unrelated reasons, but decided to keep going with the masks on my own. A decade later, I’m still going.

I've always enjoyed making things. The focused calm of working a craft, the challenge of finding the problems that need solving, followed by the satisfaction of holding in your hands something that hadn't exited before. It’s hard to beat that feeling. If you haven’t done it for a while, I highly recommend making a habit of it.

Sometime in college I realized that if I kept making things just for myself, I would eventually run out of both space in my closet and money in my bank account. So I took the best photos I could of what I had, and started posting it up on Etsy.

In high school ceramics class, I had an idea to try and make a flexible dragon skin out of little bits of clay, all glazed differently. I had no idea how to do this. A friend of mine was like "Yo it sounds like you want to look up how to make chainmail for that." She was right.

I work in architecture by day, and the decision to do that was unrelated but definitely related to my crafting obsession. Designing a kitchen, a café, a house, takes months or years of work, most of which is tedious details like picking tile patterns or looking up exactly what order to layer different sealant tapes to make sure the walls are watertight. Designing a crafting project gives me a creative outlet that is immediate. I can sit down for an afternoon and take an idea from a sketch on trace paper, to a final mask formed up out of leather. There's an excitement to that. A reminder that, yes, I can make cool stuff quickly, without needing to sink two years into a project.

For a while I worked to teach myself to draw. I managed to get pretty decent at sketching from life, with a moderate understanding of anatomy and perspective. I liked art, so I thought I wanted to make art. But I struggled with it. If I was drawing something from my imagination, no matter how well I managed to put the lines down on the paper, I would ultimately look at it and just be sad that it didn't exist in the real world. So eventually I gave up on the drawing part, and focused on the part I seemed to actually care about.

I can't envision a version of myself that doesn't make things. I think on some fundamental level, I measure my worth as a person based on what I put forth into the world. I don't know what else to do.

When you decide to turn a hobby into a business, it of course takes some of the delight away. It's no longer something you do when you want to relax and have some fun. It becomes an obligation, to make and ship orders on time, to pack up your stuff and bring it to craft fairs, to track your expenses and file your taxes, to stay on top of the constantly changing social media landscape. But it also lights a fire under your ass. You can't just keep making the same thing you made three years ago–you have to keep making new stuff, keep improving your techniques, keep reaching for new ideas that have never been made before. You lose some of the joy, but you gain a lot of satisfaction.

All through my childhood I filled my closet with little handicrafts kits, that I got as gifts or that caught my eye when following my dad to the art store. Calligraphy, wood carving, weaving looms, boondoggles, spirographs, knitting, crochet, fancy nautical knots, sculpey, and more that I can't remember. After all those different things, I’m so glad that I found a couple specific crafts that really grabbed me, that take enough work to develop expertise, that have expansive enough applications and possibilities, that I could devote a decade or more of my time to focusing on them.

I’d been interested in the furry fandom ever since little fantasy reading teenager me tried looking for stories where the dragons were the main characters, and I found people online who were doing just that. There’s a powerful do-it-yourself attitude that’s baked into the core of the fandom: The world isn’t giving us the art that we want, so we’re going to make it ourselves. I keep having ideas for things that I want, that don’t exist yet. If I want them to exist, I have to be the one to make them.

My dad was a photographer, and I spent many childhood afternoons with him in his darkroom in the basement, delightedly washing negatives, turning them gently over in their canisters of chemicals, sitting still in the dark as Dad unspooled the sensitive film, squinting in the red light as the projected images magically re-emerged on the clean white paper. What could be more amazing, more normal, more right, than having your own little space to work such magic for yourself.

In about 2008 or 9 I ordered my first batch of metal scales, with the idea of trying to make a dragon tail in time for Halloween. It took probably a couple weeks to figure out how to make it, and within a week I had thought of how to do it better and disassembled the entire thing. By the 3rd or 4th time I'd rebuilt it, I thought that it was probably good enough that I wouldn't feel embarrassed to post it online and see if someone might want to buy it.

Of course I love working on these things I make. But I don't think that's exactly why I make them.

[jeannefostergoriot]

Hello guys! I have a new analysis.

The Other POV x Fitz Vacker and Sokeefe.

Yes, Fitz again… Sorry?

“You said you saw her last night, somewhere walking down Main Street”: the moment in the Inquisition when Fitz said Keefe’s name and Sophie’s mind became a boiling sun. Just his name. And she’s troubled.

“and you were surprised that she’s back in town after everything.”: cause yeah, finding Keefe, again and again, after him betraying first then simply escaping, Sophie is surprised. He still comes back.

“Go on, pretend you’re fine, but it’s obvious to me”: all the moments where Sophie felt *something* towards Keefe and denied it, but Fitz always knew his best friend was a confident. It’s obvious to him, even if Sophie pretends there’s nothing.

“I know that she’s the reason why your mind’s changing”: *keuf* emotional cheating of Legacy. The fact that Keefe was there, maybe it’s a part of why Sophitz was so frail. That’s what Fitz thinks at least.

“Guess it was my mistake, got in the way of fate”: Empaths and Telepaths are often matched together. Keefe always made her smile. Sure, Fitz brought her here, but… maybe that’s for the best?

“This is the part I hate”: when Sokeefe kissed and Fitz reaction was hurt. When he realized pieces were falling into place. Without him.

“I’ve seen this movie once or twice, the girl regret losing the guy who thinks he’s moved on but he’s not”: for the amount of times Sokeefe tried to go separate ways. For the fact that, as long as Keefe’s not here, she’s always regretting his presence and thinking of him.

“Everyone sees through his facade”: Tam-Cam, Ro, how it was obvious that Keefe loved Sophie. Except to her.

“And so she’ll call and ask to meet, and you’ll forget all about me”: Fitz’ fear to be erased from the narrative, as so many of their friends were. Cause now, Sokeefe is real, and he’s just… an ex. Sure, Cognates, but it’s not the same when she has a boyfriend.

“She was always who you’d choose, I’m just the other point of view”: That could be to Shannon actually. But it’s to Sophie, too. Cause from the start of the series, Sophitz was clashing. The match in Physical Education.

“I always knew I’d be second-best at best”: that is Fitz’ crippling fear, being not enough and getting replaced.

“I always knew she left a big, gaping hole in your chest”: cause there are full weeks where they do not talk, and she’s trying to contact Keefe, and Fitz knows it is hard for her to see him away.

“I always knew about the clothes of hers you kept”: not clothes but Sophie treasures every drawing, and the way Keefe paints Iggy has to stay. So she has memories.

“I always knew that it’d be you two in the end”: maybe not always. But I think that at one point, Fitz did realize that Sokeefe would happen. And before the Inquisition.

“I guess the joke’s on me, stripped of my dignity”: the way he’s blamed for everything, every reaction, and has to hold it together.

“Oh what a sad story…” : yup, Fitz definitely lives in a tragedy. For everything. His world collapsing, his name trashed by his brother’s betrayal, his love story crumbling from the start.

“I’ve seen this movie once or twice, someone gets broken in goodbye”: maybe he saw that happen, not yet fully understanding, when he was in the Forbidden Cities. But mainly. He knows they can’t all escape unscathed, he saw what happened to his sister, he knows the broken heart will be his, cause it always has been as a grew up away.

“Everybody else moves along, don’t even notice that she’s gone”: erm. Fitz Cognate Card stopped working in Stellarlune. Fitz isn’t there. Do we notice? Not much, sadly.

“If that’s my destined role in this, then I already know who wins”: The second they broke up with Sophie, he knew who would win. That, one day or another, Sokeefe would come. Don’t ease the thing, though.

“I was never meant to win your heart”, no just to bring you there, he’s just the passageway.

“I was counted out from the very start”: Exile, first moment where he goes out. Where he screams.

“Really never meant to be such an intruder, if you would’ve been honest I would’ve left sooner”: this is Fitz-like to wonder for hours and hours and hours if she ever truly loved him. He lost sleep over this. He didn’t want to hurt Sophie. Never.

“Living in a story that’s not told for me”: yeah KOTLC ain’t about Fitz. It’s barely anyone, but now… he’s out.

“I’m not the happy ending that they wanna see”: the fact that the fandom mostly shipped Sokeefe for a very, very long time. There were a few Sophitz shippers, but let’s not lie, it was minority. Or way less vocal.

“I’m just the villain built to come between you two”: the portrait of him as bad, rage-filled and fueled, dangerous. He tries not to see this too, but he almost killed his brother. So he thinks, maybe he’s truly a villain, built to antagonize everything, and to be hated…

“I’m just the other point of view”: he’s just the door to another way. Nothing anymore.

[lastbluetardis]

What Makes a Family Info (and another preview)

I'm almost ready to start putting this fic back into the world! I meant to have it up this week but didn't account for the fact that Destiny 2 released its franchise story finale and I turned into a braindead gaming goblin all week and lost valuable writing/editing time 😂

For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, I had a multichapter Ten/Rose single parents AU story that I took down a few months ago to rewrite to better suit what I wanted from the story. Here's the summary of the story:

Single parents Rose Tyler and James McCrimmon come together to embark on a whirlwind, passionate romance that seems to be the happy ending neither of them thought they'd get. But when James's past comes back to haunt them and threatens to tear away everything they've built together, they must find a way to weather the storm that will either break them or draw them ever closer, all while answering the question of what it means to be a family.

Anyways, one of the major things I wanted to fix was the grief and healing the Tyler family needed to undergo. At times it felt like Rose and her sons were way too well-adjusted, and any scene where they were having a hard time felt like I'd forced it into the story because I'd suddenly remembered they'd lived through something traumatic not too long ago. So there will be more instances of the Tylers being not quite okay, and of people loving them through it, and hopefully that will make them all falling in love with James and Alex that much sweeter in the end.

The second major thing I'm fixing is something I wasn't actually planning to reveal until I uploaded chapter one and you'd see it for yourselves. But I decided I don't want to spring it on you out of the blue in case you were really looking forward to this particular character, so here goes: Jodie, the baby, isn't in the story anymore. I waffled on that detail for months, believe you me, because I loved her, and I loved watching everyone love her, especially James. But really, she felt like an arbitrary detail, and her presence made Rose's fast and hard romance with James feel a little unrealistic. Like. A single mom with a freaking newborn lusting over some dude... I kept cringing at the thought. Rose would have been far to exhausted and emotionally unavailable if she had three kids to care for and help overcome the grief of losing their dad. So yeah, poor Jodie didn't make the cut. (That's not to say she won't pop in at the end of the story... 😏)

Everything else that's changing about the story are minor details I wanted to flesh out a little more, or sharpening up the writing. I felt a little to flowery and/or long-winded at times, so I wanted to trim off some of the fat, so to speak, and focus more on the meat of the story. Plus the original story was my pandemic distraction: I wrote chapters without much thought and posted them willy-nilly. I want to be a little more intentional with my writing this time. Oh, and the kids' ages are a smidge different. I aged David and Alex up by two years, and Matthew by a year. I always felt I wrote the kids too old to suit the ages I'd given them, so it shouldn't feel too awfully different from the original.

Welp, without further ado, here's another little sneak peak for you under the cut 'cos this post is far too long:

The first day of school always brought about some nerves, what with Rose having gotten used to having her boys home every day for two months, but this time it was almost unbearable. Rose bit her nails down to the quick as she watched the clock relentlessly.

David had seemed fine when she dropped him off at Arcadia Academy that morning, but he always seemed “fine” nowadays. While he wasn’t as sullen and withdrawn as he’d been in the winter and spring months, he was far from the bright, bubbly child she’d known for the first nine years of his life.

Not even the art commissions she really ought to work on could distract her from the panic that David was miserable and wasn’t making any new friends and hated that he left all of his old friends behind at his old school.

She had called his teacher, Miss Clara Oswald, a few days before the term began to explain their situation. Clara had been genuinely sympathetic and supportive, and had given Rose the contact information of the school counselor, Mr. Danny Pink, who was supposedly one of the best in the region.

“You can set up appointments for David for the after school hour, if you’d like. I’d suggest you do that sooner rather than later to get yourself on the schedule. Or I can work with Danny to find a time when David could go during class time.”

“After school sounds preferable,” Rose admitted. “I don’t think returning to class after a therapy session would be… Well, therapy can be hard, is all.”

“Oh, don’t I know it.”

And so Rose had done exactly that: she’d gotten David an appointment with Mr. Pink for every other Wednesday beginning in the middle of September. Hopefully those sessions would help him more than the ones he’d had with his previous school counselor, who’d suggested David just distract himself with things he liked to do, and who’d scolded Rose for not doing more to bring David out of his shell.

Rose also hoped her youngest was faring well in his new nursery class. Matthew had been in tears, clinging to her legs and screaming for her not to go when she’d dropped him off. Bless them, the nursery staff waited patiently for him to calm down, and even let Rose stick around for a few extra minutes to show Matthew around his classroom. His teachers, too, knew that Matthew was getting over the death of his father; while he’d adapted much better than his brother, Matthew was much clingier and quicker to meltdown than he’d been in the past. The boys' pediatrician assured Rose this was normal behavior, and all she had to do was love him through this transitory period of his life.

[cyclesprefectpress]

hey hoo how's everybody doing. personally, not my best couple of months on record! and regrettably the first thing i drop when i get stressed is. text messages and social media accounts. which is ok but i've been delinquent on the online business management front and i feel i've been quiet here which i am sorry about because i do like talking about printing.

anyway i've got a bunch of WIP stuff piled up that I'm trying to get to! and some new projects i'd really like to finish this month. and i've also been doing a lot of long press feeds & many hours drawing on the light table and you know what this qualifies me to do. rate things on netflix (but ONLY if you aren't watching the screen):

dangerous lies: perfect non-watching watch experience. boy is it dumb but i always knew what was going on and also what was about to happen. the only thing i couldn't resist ogling was their fucking apartment which was SO big and tidily furnished when they're supposed to be barely making it financially. insane. 9/10

hypnotic: unfortunately this one is fun & good & doesn't waste your time with bad dialogue & i kept wanting to look up and pay attention to Kate Siegel's beautiful face which loses it points by this metric. 6/10

the boy next door: can you tell yet that i'm eternally searching for an erotic thriller that will stack up to Fatal Attraction. and failing. the problem is none of em have glenn close in em. this one sucks nuts 4/10

you get me: this is not what the erotic thriller is FOR. i want full adults torpedoing their own households and careers. teens making horny stupid decisions is just tuesday and the soundtrack is quite bad. 3/10

the nest: definitely not for not-watching. nobody is explaining themselves clearly for the audience or each other. it's also not at all scary, which was a surprise, but that's on me for having a one-note watching history and forgetting that dramas exist. 0/10, i sat down and watched it for real a day later and liked it quite a bit

deadly illusions: it's no Chloe but it is some very fun, greasy diner food of a movie. 8/10

the deliverance: hmmmmmmmm………………many people have more important opinions than me on this subject. i'll just say i was having a pretty nice time with some of the performances UNTIL i learned at the end that it was also about real people. so was the original Exorcist, distantly, and the distance sure does fucking help. 2/10

wild things: honestly a little hard to track what's happening without watching, because it's actually good & fun & there's like. real environmental details and mystery clues. good gravy it's crazy how hot Neve Campbell is all the time forever. 5/10, i was compelled to look up from my work table a lot

five star chef: completely bizarre conspicuous consumption experience. it's actually kind of nice not looking at the screen because i think the fullness of the view would make it way more uncomfortable. 7/10

selling sunset: unfortunately an extremely good non-watching show. now in a group i advocate for looking at the despicable houses together and tearing the decor to pieces, but as long as you're alone it is once again an improvement not to actually see the dollars and energy being dunked in the garbage and set on fire all over the curséd county of San Diego. glance up once every 10 minutes to see what they're wearing and you're gucci. 8/10

the perfect couple: a little challenging to follow at first if you're mostly identifying people by voices, but fun! nicole kidman is a delight; idk Eve Hewson from anything else but her character is made of uncooked spaghetti. as a person without Private Island Money i must protest for us, we're not generally this boring about it. 7/10

evil: netflix has been pestering me to watch this show for so long. they were right. it's bad & it scratches the monster of the week itch & the speed with which it simply, linguistically equates psychopath=literally possessed by demons is absolutely wild. i am currently stymied by the episode where they visit a monastery that's taken a vow of silence but someday i'll look up a summary and get past it. 6/10

culinary class wars (dubbed): i hadn't tried reality tv dubbing before and you know what, it's fine!! it does the job. there's absolutely no localization to make the jokes work in english or anything but that's a-ok. i really like the structure of this competition for some reason, and if the very annoying Class Warfare trappings make you uncomfortable like they did for me, be assured, they drop off pretty steeply after the first round and the actual participating chefs are perfectly respectful to each other. 10/10

[blackwolfstabs]

If you're ever low on ideas and comfortable with it, I've had this idea which means a lot to me that I'd love see you put into your own words one day.

Basically, some time after Scream VI, Chad and Tara try to work themselves up to doing the deed (no outright smut or explicit stuff though pretty please, not the point here), and Tara totally freaks out when she can't bring herself to take off her clothes and show all her scars to another person. While I wouldn't expect Chad to really care about his, I'd always thought this would be an issue for Tara considering how much she wants to feel normal after everything that happened to her. As someone who still has visual reminders of a prior major surgery, I can speak from experience that feeling like you're less beautiful or desirable because of that is a really terrible thought. I can totally picture Tara feeling all the nervous butterflies about the sacred occasion of losing her virginity only to realize the scars from her snapped leg and all the stabby stabbies, everything she's trying to forget, are never going away. Feel free to experiment with how they'd react to and handle this situation, it was just a fleeting idea, but I think it could be something really sweet.

P.S.: You're like the only writer I know of that appreciates Chara and I just wanted to thank you for that because I adore them sooo much lol, they don't get enough love.

aww it's all my pleasure, dear anon. i hope i do your idea justice! 🫡

here you go:

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IF YOU LOVE HER

Drawing stars around Tara's scars.

fandom: Scream pairing: Tara Carpenter × Chad Meeks-Martin characters: Tara Carpenter & Chad Meeks-Martin a/n: i love this idea sm and i actually got really into it so my apologies if i went too deep or made it too long. you've got good taste, my friend :)

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“Are you sure?” Chad whispered, his forehead locked with Tara’s as they blinked into each other’s chocolate eyes.

Tara nodded, not breaking her eye-contact, even though she was trembling. She loved Chad, she did, and if anyone was going to take her virginity, she wanted it to be him. It’d be safe with him, for she was sure he loved her just the same. They had been through so much together. She couldn’t ask for a better partner. “Yeah,” she breathed, “I want to…”

In the privacy of his half-lit bedroom, he nodded and removed his shirt, letting her take the lead as she gently pushed him down onto his bed. She climbed on top of him, her legs straddling him to lean down and capture his lips. 

Tara melted into her boyfriend quickly, pulled in by the serene essence of the night and his love. She felt his hand slide over the small of her back and move towards her hip, while she trailed her fingers down his right pec to his rib cage. Her fingertips curled into his ribs as his own slipped beneath the band of her pants. 

They parted, but Chad kept his digits beneath the hem. He eased them a little farther to have the tips meet her underwear. She shuddered with a small gasp, instinctively dropping her pelvis as if to stop him from going any further. His face must’ve changed a little to show some concern, because she quickly looked away.

“I-I’m sorry…” She grew shy as she hesitated on where to look. 

“Is that too far?” he quizzed, retreating his hand a little bit.

“No, it’s fine, I just…”

“Would you rather do it?” He tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear to catch a better glimpse of her face.

She took a deep breath, before gathering up the courage to look him in the eyes again. “No. I trust you.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

He nodded. “Okay…” He turned his face to the side to kiss the arm she still had bordering his head. She then resumed her former position again, and he decided to take a different approach. “We’ll do this first.” He moved his hand away from her bottoms and eased her shirt up, until he met her bra-line.

Carpenter braced herself against the fresh air that corralled the newly exposed skin of her torso. She knew the build-up to giving her virginity away was supposed to be nerve-wracking and anxiety-inducing, but she knew that the intensity she felt growing in the pit of her stomach was of a different essence. However, she had to keep herself together. This was the hard part. After everything was off and out of the way, there was no going-back and hopefully, she would be immersed into a world of love and not rejection. That’s how sex went, right? It was captivating and a rather surreal experience? Guess she was going to find out. But she had to stay strong to get there, so she ducked her face into the crook of Chad’s neck to try and compose herself.

Her boyfriend breathed in her warm scent, leaning his head against hers as he wrapped his arm around the bare portion of her back with one arm and used the other to tug her pants down a little bit. He heard her give a small whimper, to which he kissed her shoulder. “There’s nothing to be scared of, Tara,” he assured her, “I got you.” 

She felt his nose brush her ear lobe as he said this, his breath tickling her neck. As safe as she felt in his arms, she couldn’t manage to make any words and instead, just nudged his jawline in a nod. She was wearing high-waisted pants that were steadily pulled to a mid-rise and then a low-rise as Chad edged them further down her hips. 

Her heart skipped a beat, jumping into a race that made her nearly start to panic. His other arm brushed her spine, forearm pressing through her bra to leave his fingers closing around her ribs. She shut her eyes tightly and pressed her lips to his neck, forcing herself to focus on softly suckling his skin to fight herself from changing her mind.

Below her, Meeks-Martin heard a shuddering breath that mimicked her figure. He knew she was anxious about this, especially with how protective her older sister was and how inhumanely her body had been handled before. That was why he let her be on top for her first time. Both of her Ghostface attacks—which had left her with trauma she still re-lived—ended with her pinned beneath her attacker. He was well aware of what having her take the submissive position might do. The hand that held her ribcage slid down the curve of her flank, finding new territory that hadn’t been explored from the coverage of her pants.

His girlfriend accidentally traded her lips for her teeth, biting down on his sternocleidomastoid muscle. It was a fearful kind of nip, so it wasn’t necessarily painful, but it had caused him to pull one hand away from her hips and caress the side of her head.

“Easy, babe… Just breathe. I won’t hurt you…”

She swallowed uneasily, wanting to say something to assure him but also defend herself at the same time. She didn’t know what to do. However, when his fingers found the scars hidden on her lower abdomen and his arm pressed into the ones littering her lower back, she couldn’t take it. Every hurtful thought she could hold against her self-worth felt like a knife stabbing through her survivor’s tattoos again to emphasize the damage they did. Tears filled her eyes, and she didn’t even think twice as she pulled away. “I can’t!”

Chad sat up when she got off of him, finding her tugging her clothing back to their proper wear and hearing her breath hitch as she bowed her head in shame. 

Tara’s chest went extremely tight as she broke down, eyes burning and butterflies swarming her stomach at the anxiety that cursed her yet again. But this time was different. She hated doing this to Chad, because he didn’t deserve it. “I–I’m sorry, Chad…”

“For what?” He moved to sit beside her. “What is it?”

More tears fell, seeming to grow thicker the longer she stared at her legs, which were clenched together. She felt his hand rub small circles on her back, but that just made her grow even more tense. Her initial reply was replaced with a sob that had her whole body jolting.

“Hey, hey, hey…” His concern grew, once she broke down completely, a few whimpers coming through her sobs as she covered her face with one hand and hugged her torso with the other. He got down on the floor to kneel in front of her, reaching up to brush her hair back. “It’s okay, Tara, it’s alright—”

“I ca-han’t do it, Chad!” she cut him off, only able to compose herself enough to get the shortest explanation she could out. “I-hit’s so uh-hugly!”

He paused his combing. “What’s ugly?”

Carpenter cringed inward on herself, clutching the flank of her shirt so tight that her knuckles turned white. She pulled her knees up to hug them with her other arm, hiding her face in the small space between her thighs and torso. “M-my scars…” She spit it out around her accumulating congestion.

Chad’s eyes immediately fell to the arm that curled around her legs, how her hand reached to the side that he couldn’t see. It was the hand that had that long scar gifted from self-defense against Ghostface—her first attack. What a reminder… What a memory…

What a tragedy…

The exact one that had him view her like she was the strongest person in the world, even though she was the smallest of the family they’ve made. She was the strongest. She had survived being stabbed 7 times, a broken ankle, blood-loss, surgery, a 2nd attack, facing-off with her attacker, suffering heartbreak, and spent another period in the hospital, which she had grown to hate… But after every single fallout, she picked herself back up and kept moving forward. 

Tara Carpenter was the living proof and definition of a survivor.

And Chad Meeks-Martin was in love with her. 

She wasn’t second-best or his chosen one, due to their share of trauma. He started falling from the first day they met all those years ago, when they were too young and naive to understand what love was, what pain was, what trauma was, and all of the things that divided them. Tara’s home-life started to go downhill around the same time he was getting serious into football, so he wasn’t around her much anymore. Being a jock came with many things that kept him present in his future yet absent in his past. And sadly, Tara was one of those things—those precious things that he had unknowingly been driven away from. Liv came along, and they hit it off for a while, but when Tara was attacked, it all changed.

He didn’t care if she had scars. He didn’t care if she was too scared to let him in. He didn’t care if she pushed him away and screamed at him to leave. He’d wait on her forever. He didn’t see her scars, when he looked at her. He saw his angel—the one he swore he’d never see living, in-person, and in his reach. Yet, she was. And had she not endured it all, he might have never gotten that privilege.

As she continued to cry, Chad spoke to her softly and sincerely. “No, they’re not. Tara, there’s nothing ugly about you—”

However, she denied him. “Yes, they– Chad, I’m hideous…” 

She was convinced. Her scars were curses, hidden beneath her clothes to fool anyone that might actually want her. Anyone who might desire her. But she wasn’t desirable. One look at the marks giving her stomach, back, and legs an abstract design and anyone with a decent taste would turn away. She was destroyed, wasted, used, and corrupted. How could she be beautiful? How could she move on when every time she changed clothes, or took a shower, or wore anything but high-waisted jeans or pants reminded her of how defenseless, weak, and exposed she was? How alone she was… and that loneliness created a masterpiece that only the artist could admire. It must be hidden from the rest of the world or else it would leave others feeling sick and appalled.

Because she wasn’t supposed to be a piece of art. She was supposed to be dead.

Who could ever love her intimately when she was literally a human pincushion?

Chad could. And he did.

“Tara,” his voice was a little stronger this time. He slipped his hand onto her thigh and encouraged her to lower her legs. “Tara…” Luckily, she did lower her legs, but both arms held herself tightly and she hesitated to look up. “Hey…” 

Tara sniffled and wiped her nose, before raising her eyes enough to look at him. And of all things… he smiled at her.

“Stop, that isn’t true,” he told her. His eyes shimmered in the low lighting. “I’ve never met someone more beautiful than you. Your scars aren’t ugly. They don’t change who you are. I promise you, one day, you’re gonna look at every single one of those scars as a reminder of how strong you are.” Her soulful eyes just blinked at him, glossy as more tears slid down her cheeks. He wiped them away. “You’re so strong, babe.” 

In that moment, she swallowed, staring at him as she recalled those traumatic memories. The phone calls, the teases, the taunts, the stabbing, the crawling, the begging, the screaming… Those things didn’t make her feel strong at all. They were demeaning and humiliating. “I don’t feel strong… I’m not fearless, like Sam. I’m not smart, like Mindy. I’m not reliable, like you…”

On the other hand, all her boyfriend could think about was her smile, her sharp-tongue, and her gorgeous eyes. The way she moved and how she handled everything that came her way. The way she loved him and how healing her existence was to him every day. She was the reason he fought, held on, and kept going. When he had sacrificed himself for her at the kill theater, taking a thousand stabs, while looking at her the whole time, telling her to “go”... he did that because he couldn’t live without her, and because he couldn’t live without her, he held on until he was found by paramedics and was united with her again. Everything she was saying about what she wasn’t couldn’t be more wrong. “You’re a survivor, Tara. You’re Tara Carpenter, and you’re not like other people. You’ve got a will that’s so strong, you’ve managed to look death in the eyes and win… multiple times. And those scars are proof of it.” She was unparalleled to anyone else in this world. “You are you. There’s 7 billion people in this world, and you’re the perfect one for me. What are the odds of that?”

Tara bit her lip. She wanted to believe him. Truly, she did. But she hated all that her body had become, especially when it had to be exposed in situations like these. They weren’t mental scars that time would heal, they were scars that would be there forever. She would never be able to escape what had happened to her, no matter how long she lived or how much she may try to cover them up. 

“I love you, Tara.”

Her breath hitched as she sniffled. “I love you too, Chad…” Her next words were barely audible, when they came out. “Thank you…”

Chad just smiled at her. Even with her bloodshot eyes and runny nose, she was flawless. He reached out and took her left hand. His thumb brushed over the long scar tainting the top of it. 

She didn’t dare look down, the soft touch making her lips quiver again as more tears threatened to fall.

But then he brought it up to his lips and trailed a line of gentle kisses along the length of the scar, covering the pain it caused her with loving stitches.

Tara watched him do this, then glanced up to his face when he lifted it and guided her hand to rest against his cheek. “Chad…”

“You are so beautiful,” he simply replied. And to his surprise, he received the smallest smile from her, even through her tears. Then, he dropped his eyes to where her right arm guarded her torso. He squeezed her hand a little, “Can I see them?”

She froze, her anxiety climbing again. Her brow twitched, fighting herself to stay where she was and not pull away from him again. He deserved this. He deserved this. 

If he loved her…

He did love her. There wasn’t a single doubt in her mind. So, she exhaled a shaky breath and nodded, slowly removing her right arm and retreating her left to uncover the sacred tattoos that made her a palette of a million colors, some not even of this world. She held her breath as she tugged the hem of her shirt up with one hand, then pulled her pants down with the other to expose her stomach.

There were two big scars, one just below her left rib cage and the other beneath her navel on the right side. Chad moved to be directly in front of her and was actually allowed to come closer when she opened her legs for him to kneel between them. His hands were soft as he placed them on her warm sides. He felt her shudder, telling him she was still hesitant about revealing her permanent demons. But instead of trying to talk her down again, he bowed his head and pressed his lips against the first scar. Just like he had done with her hand, he moved along its length, stitching up her hurt with his affection.

Tara stiffened at first, her muscles tensing at the feeling of this kind of attention, but then she let go of the breath she was holding back. His lips moved from the left side of her ribs to duck beneath her arm and give the scars he could reach on her back the same treatment. She let him do it. Her head stayed bowed, and she gripped the hem of her shirt, holding it steady against her frame to force herself into this uncomfortable position she knew she could trust. However, she couldn’t stop the tears that continued to fall or the whimpers that slipped out when his kiss would trigger another bad thought.

But her boyfriend never failed to calm her butterflies even if it was only for a moment. As he drew back, he slid his right hand around her back to rub it and continued to do so when he began to kiss the other mark on her lower belly. She breathed in, and he could feel her skin press into his lips. 

She was starting to calm down. She was starting to trust him.

Then, he took his left hand and traced his fingers down her flank to meet the hem of her pants. He pulled one side off her hip.

Panic. Her heartbeat picked up, leading her to slightly squeeze her legs around him. “N-no, Chad—”

Chad blinked up at her. He didn’t move any further. “I won’t do much. Just wanna see…”

Tara hesitated. She felt her formerly injured leg twinge at the way she had it positioned. Then, she relaxed and helped him tug her pants off all the way. Bare against the air conditioning, it was only instinctive that she wanted to pull her legs up to her chest, however his hand eased up her ankle, along her calf, over her knee, and up her thigh. Her eyes never left his, but she dropped her shirt to rest her wrists over his shoulders, rubbing her fingertips against his thoracic vertebrae.

He ran his hand back down, caressing right at her ankle, where it had been snapped by a devil’s wish. 

How that scream had ripped her throat… It was so painful… Tara swore it had been so guttural that, had she not passed out, she would’ve spit up blood on the way to the hospital.

Chad held it in his hand, rubbing it with gentle squeezes in between. And as he gazed at her, he saw her lips start to upturn. Then, her leg flinched, trying to pull away from his hold. He knew why, and it made him smile back at her, relieved that she was no longer anxious and fearful of being exposed to him. “Do you trust me?” he asked this as he glided his hand back up her leg to rest on her hip, bringing himself closer to her.

Carpenter nodded instantly, though her voice was still soft. “Yeah…” She blinked as he wiped stray tears from her cheeks.

Then they joined at the lips, taking a moment to melt into each other’s comfort. But it wasn’t too long, for the congestion that blocked Tara’s airways from crying cut it short. 

Chad grazed his knuckles along Tara’s jawline, watching her eyes close at the touch. “I think you should get some rest for tonight, okay?” 

Her eyelids parted and slowly raised. 

“We can try again tomorrow.”

She nodded with a small sigh. 

Tomorrow was another day…

Another day she’d survive.

───────────────────────────

p.s. i'm sorry this took a while, anon.. i hope you're still around! ♡

- parker (BWS)

[oliviasecrets]

This is life

VI

“Yeah I’m only here for two days then I play in Ibiza”

“No way I’ve always wanted to go there I’ve heard amazing stories about the nightlife”

“Why don’t you come with me it could be fun”

Johns invitation was very tempting but you had to draw your line

“It does sound like fun but I’m currently under a lot of work I can’t take a vacation”

“Hey I understand how about this give me your number and when you’re free we can arrange something”

“Yeah sure”

What you didn’t know is that a few yards away Jack was watching this interaction and when he saw you trying into that djs phone his blood boiled he tried to fight the feeling of jealous but that overcame

“Jack where are you going… wait up man”

Jack moved fast through the crowd so that he wouldn’t be recognized by any fan that wanted a picture, as he was about to enter the dj area he turn around when he felt a hand on his arm

“Hey if I was you I wouldn’t lose her”

“Emily hey yeah thank you that’s what I’m trying to do here”

“Show her that you really do care, and if you two do end up together please invite me to the wedding”

“You already thinking way to fast but definitely em”

The bouncer tried to stop Jack but luckily for him he was too damn famous know he didn’t need an introduction

“Have a fun night mr harlow”

“Thank you sir”

As Jack was getting close to you he made eye contact with the dj making you turn around from your previous conversation you couldn’t help but to smile and get all excited to finally see Jack after a week of crying over him, you made your way to him and wrap your arms on his neck taking in his delicious LV smell and Jack couldn’t resist but giving you a hard hug and kissing your cheek

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you”

“Yeah I figured that out since it took you a week to call me”

“Come on ma are you making this difficult for me now”

“Yeah actually until you realize how much I’m worth”

That had him smiling from ear to ear

“Oh trust me you’ve been on my mind since I last saw you, even had me writing you a song and shit��

“Is that so jackman”

“Wanna hear it”

“Not really, I prefer having some fun with you”

Jack took your hand and made your way out of the vip area, walking towards the bar you order yourself some shots to make your confidence boost Jack kept placing one hand curled up on your waist as he was getting close to your ear he whispered

“Let’s get out of here”

“Jack we haven’t even danced, don’t you wanna dance with me?”

“I do but I prefer to spend some time with you just the two of us”

“One dance first”

You took jacks hand and made your way to the dance floor the one and only song played my humps by the black eye peas

“Imma get you drunk get you love drunk off my hump”

You turned around so you could grind a little with Jack, he placed both hand on your waist holding you tight and slightly touching your abs and slightly your under boobs making you turn around and wrap one hand on his neck

“You are getting very touchy jackman”

“Please can we just go already”

Jack put a hand on your neck taking care of you while you made yourself outside the club, before leaving you texted em telling her you were leaving with Jack but oh boy what a surprise you were headed towards

“Jack y/n are you together”

“Y/n please over here give a smile”

“Jack how does it feel to be with y/n”

“How long have you’ve been together”

“Please smile this way”

Neither you or Jack knew there was at least 25 paparazzi waiting outside

“just hold my hand and not let go y/n”

You grabbed his hand scared of what was happening then you started feeling people getting crowed and suddenly you felt someone grabbed your ass

“What the fuck don’t touch me”

You let go of jacks hand making him look your way he didn’t really understand what was going on but once he saw you pushing a guy away he saw red

“Get your hands off of her right now, I swear I’ll fuck you up dude”

“Jack please let’s just go away”

“Jack please

Before you realized urban had come out of no where grabbing Jack and preventing him from starting a fight

“Come on babe let’s get going”

“Em where’s Jack please”

“Y/n please just come with me he’ll find us”

The anxiety and being scared of what was going on overcame as you started to cry you walked half a block when you heard Jack

“Y/n are you okay, are you hurt please tell me you’re good”

Once you saw Jack jogging to you you stared to cry even more, maybe it was the excitement that had this effect in you

“Hey I’m here don’t worry y/n”

You looked at Jack and all you could do was kiss him a very passionate kiss wrapping your hands around his neck making the kiss more deep and intense Jack stopped and kissed your forehead

“I’m going to take that as an im okay Jack”

“Please don’t scare me like that again you dick I was so scared”

“I’ll promise I will behave but if someone else touch what’s mine I won’t promise anything”

“I’m not yours Jack”

“Fuck yeah you are I’m never letting you get away ever”

———————————————

Some action plus I love jealous Jack hahah any ideas text me!!

[dyst0p14-n]

I don't really know who I am yet.

Ever since I learnt to string together coherent sentences, I've always liked writing like these little introduction entries. Whether it be in a new notebook, online, or even in my stories, I love being able to talk about myself. I used to think I was egotistical, so I just kept these entries to myself, but I've grown to realise it's less of a "I love myself to bits" thing, and more of a "catching up with myself every once in a while" thing. I think it's important to check in on yourself every once in a while. You know, to keep yourself from totally losing your mind and ending up in a psych ward. I mean, I'll end up in a psych ward regardless. What I'm trying to get at is hi, welcome to my little online diary. Fair word of warning, I have a lot of issues and I've seen literal porn on this website, so I'm not exactly worried about my posts being taken down if I talk about actively cvtting myself (I'll like censor my words just to be safe). Trigger warning for every single trigger under the sun: svicide, self h4rm, eating "this order", mommy and daddy issues, substance abuse, just to name a fun few. Obviously, my whole life doesn't revolve around that stuff (it absolutely does, I'm just gaslighting myself), so it's not like all my entries will be suicide letter after suicide letter.. or something. I might post it in the future though, so look forward to that!

ANYWAY, hi. I'm Amelia (people also call me Jemma if they're feeling funky), I'm 16 as of the 31st of March, and I'll be treating this as my diary. Basically decided on making this on a whim, so I have no clue whether I'll be writing here every day, or just once in a blue moon, time will tell. Honestly, I made this account to commemorate me surviving this long. I never imagied I'd make it to 16, and yet here we are. I didn't plan on making it this far, and I really don't have any plans on what to do with myself. I'm kinda at a loss. Before, it's just been a countdown to the day my candle goes out. Now, I wake up confused. What am I doing here? What is there for me? Is there anything for me out there? Everyday is a question. A question to which the answer is unclear, but I can make an educated guess that it's either drugs, money or death. Maybe all of the above.

I guess theres a few things I like to do. I'll get into detail in a later entry if I feel like it. It's getting pretty late.

I draw sometimes. I used to only do digital art, but I lost my apple pencil and have been too embarrased to tell my mam, so i just switched to permenant pencil drawings. I actually prefer it. I used to hate it because I was really bad at anatomy and using a digital drawing program let me rearrange the limbs as I so pleased. I can't do that on paper, it forces me to practice and get better. And I'd like to think that I have. I understand muscle structure a lot better. Perspective, and all that jazz. I also bought a watercolour set recently, so I've been messing around with that. It's pretty fun!

I also write stories. A lot of them. I'm actually in the process of writing the pilot episode for one of my projects; It's called "All-in". Its about this snobby rich girl who is running an illegal underground gambling ring who meets this depressed traumatised orphan boy who's part of a gang that is trying to take down the mafia and is constantly on someone’s kill list, he accidentally drags her into his business after his brother is kidnapped and the mafia thinks shes affiliated with him and she is now on the kill list as well. He is under the impression that she doesn’t want anything to do with any of this, not knowing she has a criminal record of her own. It's a whole thing, I won't bore myself by explaining all the small details. This is my diary! It exists for my leisure and to let out everything on my mind! I'll leave the work to work hours.

Another major hobby of mine is volleyball. Officially, I'm a setter. In reality, I'm a bench warmer. I haven't been playing very long. Maybe a year and a half. So naturally, I suck at it. I still have a lot of fun with it. Maybe i shoud become a professional volleyball player if I don't end up killing myself?

What else is there about me.... I listen to a lot of rock and metal. All sorts of varients of the two. Really, I like all genres of music, these are just my personal favourites. I also listen to a ton of vocaloid. It's been a staple of my personality since 2016. If youve been here since before i repurposed this account (which, I doubt you did), then you'd have seen my entire page was FILLED with Hatsune Miku stuff. Big fan.

I watch a lot of anime. My favourites are FMA, Soul Eater and Assassination Classroom. I also have a manga collection that is worth over 450 quid. Some might say thats a waste, since I'm poor and could use that money to feed myself for a month, but food is temporary, wasted female lead potentional is forever.

I'm gonna gp to sleep now. I'll add on whatever I can think of when I'm back from school tomorrow.

...

School sucks dick.

-amelia

[seyaryminamoto]

I try not to get too rambly lately because I am indeed busy (trying to finish a Patreon piece rn!), but... I'd say this moment warrants it.

I have spent over a decade building up to this chapter and its developments. It's very much the climax of the entire story. The journey we've been on was always meant to lead us to this, for all emotions to come to a head, for all threads to converge right where they shall.

To make it clear just how long ago I intended for this particular plot point, I hereby present all evidence needed:

This is a scanned old artwork from a long time ago. I've kept it quiet for ages, showing it only to a few people, because I didn't want to give away too much pertaining how Gladiator would unfold.

This piece was scanned on November 11th, 2014, according to the properties of the file. While of course I was nowhere near the level of quality I am at now, this piece, at the time, was one of my unquestionable best. In fact, I remember @jordanalane straight up asking me if I had asked someone else to draw this, because it seemed sooooooooo beyond my style back in those days... I was pretty flattered by that, even if maybe I should have been proud and said OF COURSE it was me! 🤣But the point still stands, it was a rarity for me to do something of this quality 10 years ago, even if I absolutely could remake it and outdo it now.

What I'm saying is simply that I've spent a long, long time working towards this endgame. Once I realized where we were headed, the direction of Gladiator became kind of immutable in my head. It was the ending that made sense. The development that would bring everything together properly:

Our story started with these two clashing, as enemies, and altering their lives forever by what appeared to be a mere coincidence.

In that instance, Sokka was completely overwhelmed. He wasn't strong enough to fight one-on-one against Azula. She had the upper hand at every point in time. That was the starting point of Sokka's gradual power climb: he faced an unbeatable foe who then became his greatest ally, helping him become so much stronger than he ever knew he could be...

... Leading up to this: once again, they face each other as enemies, after what feels like a lifetime of bonding and sharing incredible adventures, growing together and becoming better people by each other's side. Both grew stronger across time... but Sokka, undoubtedly, had the steeper power climb. Thus, the outcome this time is nowhere near as straight-forward as it was back when the story began.

Sokka's growth was meant to bring him here, to face his worst possible enemy, and this time, actually have a chance to prevail. What most people surely didn't expect all along was for this worst-enemy to be Azula, of all people, after everything they've been through. But what exactly will he choose when he finally has a chance at victory against her? Can he stay true to who he is... or will the pressures destroy him?

Near the start of the story, Piandao warned Azula to be careful, for if she broke Sokka to the point where he no longer knew who he was, Sokka would lose his greatest strength. He warned her not to turn him into someone he was not. It's a thread that has been dangling all throughout the story, sometimes easily forgotten, but ever-present nonetheless: in pushing matters to the extent Azula has, is Sokka's true self lost now? Or will he cling to it still, even in the face of likely death, all be it to make an unthinkable choice that might just change the fate of the world...?

:')

Guess you'll find out on Friday! :'D

Preview: Gladiator Chapter 374

As memories of better times rush through their minds and hearts, Sokka and Azula collide on a battlefield, as enemies, for the first time since their fateful encounter in the South Pole. The armies around them remain at a standstill, waiting for the outcome of the duel between Princess and Gladiator.

One will hesitate. The other will demand for no mercy. As steel and flames clash furiously, the fate of the world shall hinge on the choice the victor shall make, upon facing a defeated foe: will the blade strike down...?

Or will they surrender?

Read Gladiator HERE or HERE

For a snippet of the new chapter, support me on Patreon!

[messers-moony]

Annotated Books & Sleek Hardcovers | R.B

Paring: Regulus Black X Fem!Lupin!Reader

Summary: Everything told them to be apart, but they said fuck the world.

Inspiration: Click

People would describe the younger Lupin sibling as warm and bright. She shined like the sun and was warm like a sunny summer day. She was the breeze on a warm summer day and the sun on a chilly autumn morning. She was worn books with annotations in the margins, highlighting, and scribbles. She was dependable, sweet, kind, and loving. 

Dependable like a best friend. Sweet like Honeydukes chocolate. Kind of like a puppy dog who had been just adopted and as lovable as soft blankets. Her brother was no different. He oozed shyness, charisma, and intelligence. His tousled sandy hair and gleaming green eyes made everyone bend to his will. He didn’t even know that he was doing it. 

But by fifth year, Remus Lupin had come out as gay. A month later, Sirius Black was on top of the Gryffindor table with a blushing Remus announcing their relationship. Remus had given his sister a sheepish look as he sat back down. Y/n had just kissed his cheek and smiled. 

Y/n and Regulus had been sitting beside each other when Sirius had taken the Great Hall by storm. Instinctively, Regulus tightened his grip on her hand, and Y/n allowed her thumb to run along his. She watched as his shoulders relaxed a prominent amount. 

“Well,” Regulus whispered, “I wasn’t expecting that. Did you know?”

Y/n shook her head, “No, but I’m happy for them. Are you?”

“I ‘spose.” Regulus shrugged, “When do you think they’ll find out about us?”

“Remus is a bit oblivious.” Y/n replied, “Sirius doesn’t really turn his head in your direction.”

Regulus looked down at his lap, “So if anything, we’ll have to tell them.”

“Do you think,” His voice was lower than a whisper, “That he’ll ever be my brother again?”

“I do.” Y/n leaned her head on his shoulder, “Siblings have a special bond.”

“I hope you’re right.”

She snorted, “I’m always right.”

At that, he cracked a smile. 

Maybe it was her warmth that melted the ice surrounding Regulus’ heart. The icy, cold, Regulus Black. It wasn’t like they were hiding their relationship, but people were terrified to talk about it. They didn’t want to face the wrath of the young Black brother. 

Regulus was described as the dark, cold winter nights people despised. The winter nights that were so low in temperature that even staying inside with the heat on, blankets on, and layers of clothes couldn’t warm. He was sleek, hardcover books and soggy leaves in the fall that left you disappointed when the satisfying crunch didn’t echo through your ears. 

Regulus Black was everything but warm. He was your least favorite color. Your least favorite food. He was everything you hated. Perhaps it was Y/n’s sweetness that brought some of the crunchiness back to his leaf, the pen to his book, and the folded pages. 

They were star-crossed lovers. Everything in the universe was trying to keep them apart from the colors of their robes and the clashing of their personalities. Regulus was the dry autumn and brash winter. Y/n was the prospering spring and hopeful summer. Perhaps they were the best of both worlds, and that’s why they worked together so well. 

It wasn’t until their sixth year when their relationship had become the talk of the school. Regulus had begun wearing long sleeves even in the hot months, and people grew suspicious. Only he and she knew what laid beneath that crisp white button-up. Beneath the cold ice he kept around his heart. 

Y/n looked around Platform Nine and Three-Quarters for her raven-haired boyfriend as Remus joined his friends on the train. When she did find him, it wasn’t pleasant. Walburga had been fussing with his sleeve, making sure it stayed down, and she had slapped the back of his head for slouching over. Regulus had rolled his shoulders to stand up straight. Orion didn’t look impressed, and Walburga murmured something along the lines of, “Good enough.”

“Now, what do we say, Regulus?”

Regulus caught Y/n’s eyes for just a split second, and he looked away hastily, “Toujours Pur.”

“Good.” Walburga stated, “Now go.”

He nodded and began walking toward Y/n’s general direction. Regulus took her hand in his directing her on another path, “Meet at our usual compartment.”

Y/n gave him a smile in response as she walked away. It left Regulus with a pink hue coating his usually pale skin. His stomach fluttered, and his heart palpitated. They entered the train on opposite sides and met in the middle at their compartment. She was already sitting down when he plopped down beside her. His head was leaning on her shoulder. 

“Missed you.” Regulus slurred, sleep evident in his tone, “Wish I could’ve escaped.”

“I missed you too, Reggie.” Y/n took his left hand in hers, “But I know that we have a lot to talk about.”

He tensed, “I suppose we do.” 

“Things like what’s on your left forearm?”

“Y/n, please-“

“I’m not mad.”

“But you’re disappointed.”

Her light laugh confused him, “I’m not either, actually.”

Regulus lifted his head to look at her, “You aren’t?”

“I just want to know what you plan on doing with that mark.”

“I don’t have a choice.” Regulus stated, slumping down again, “I have to serve him.”

Y/n hesitated, “You have choices.”

“What are they?”

“Be a spy.” 

“A spy?” Regulus queried incredulously, “Are you serious?”

A silly smile graced her features, “Actually. Forget I asked that. Are you daft?”

“No.” Y/n replied, “I’m actually top of our class, so.”

“If he finds out I’m a spy. Then I’d be killed, Y/n.” Regulus said softly, “It’d be different if I didn’t care about anyone. If I had nothing to lose, but I do, and I don’t want to lose a chance at a future with you because of it.”

Y/n took his face into her hands, “You can’t do this. You can’t work for him. You’ll kill yourself slowly anyway.”

“I don’t have a choice.” He wiped a tear from her cheek, “This was bound to happen. This was my fate.”

“Who gives a shit about fate.” Y/n chuckled tearfully, “Professor Trelawney always said that you could change fate.”

Regulus cracked a tiny smile, “You would pay attention in Divination, wouldn’t you.”

“Someone’s gotta give Sirius the notes.” 

“Sirius… I didn’t even think about-“ Regulus stopped, “He’s- He’s gonna hate me.”

“Hey, Regulus, look at me.” His breathing sped up, and his hands began to tremble, “Sirius isn’t going to hate you.”

He shook his head, “No, he’s- he’s gonna- I’m gonna-“

Y/n wrapped her arms around him. Regulus nosed at the crook of her neck, breathing in the sweet perfume. The fragrance smelt of crisp apples mixed along with her scent of caramel, chocolate, and marshmallow. It gave him something to focus on, and with his muddled mind, Regulus fell asleep. 

Regulus was still asleep three hours later when Sirius came barging into the compartment stopping in his tracks. Y/n brought her index finger to her lips, ordering him to be quiet. Sirius shut the door and sat in front of them. Regulus’ face was out of view from his older brother's. His nose was nuzzled in Y/n’s neck, and his hair hid his face. 

“So,” Sirius began quietly, the atmosphere had never been so thick, “How long?”

“Fourth year.” Y/n thought Sirius’ eyes were going to bulge out of his head. 

“But you- and him- you don’t-“

“Don’t belong together?”

Sirius nodded, “Who are you to say? Technically I could say the same about you and my brother.”

“Fair point.” Sirius muttered. 

It was quiet again, and all that was heard was the slashing of rain on the window of the train, “How- How is he?” Sirius’ voice had never been so quiet before. 

“He’ll be okay.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

Before Y/n could respond, Regulus began to tremble again. He was trying to dig his nose deeper into her neck and reaching desperately for something to hold onto. Y/n allowed his hand to grasp hers tightly. His trembling subsided, and Y/n gently kissed the crown of his head, allowing him to relax finally. 

“How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“I never-“ Sirius looked shocked, “I could never calm his nightmares….”

Y/n gave him a soft smile, “Perhaps it’s a Lupin talent.”

“Perhaps.” Sirius replied, “But, is he okay?”

“He will be.”

“What does that mean?” Sirius questioned loudly, and Y/n hushed him, “They didn’t- did they?”

She nodded solemnly, “We’re gonna- We’re gonna work through it together.” 

Sirius could see her swallowing the lump in her throat. Sirius could see the dullness in her eyes, the same dull that Remus’ eyes got after the full moon. Sirius could always read Remus through his eyes. They were a tell-tale of his emotions. It seemed that he could do the same with Y/n. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, untold trauma, and unspoken words. 

“Take care of him, yeah?” Sirius requested quietly as he stood up to leave the compartment. 

She nodded, “Yeah.”

He closed the sliding door quietly. It was a quiet walk back to his own compartment with the Marauders. The task of getting the summer homework to copy turned into an entirely new adventure. Sirius opened the door to his compartment to find James and Peter talking animately. Remus sat with his head against the glass and head in a book. He had some muggle markers beside him that Sirius liked to draw with. 

Sirius slumped beside Remus putting space between them. That was the first tell. The second tell was that Sirius didn’t speak, and he stared out to the train's hallway. Remus closed his book, placing it back beside him, and wrapped his arm around his boyfriend's shoulders. 

“What’s wrong?” His voice was low and hot in Sirius’ ear. 

“Nothing.” Sirius replied, still not looking into Remus’ eyes, “Your sister was no help. Said I needed to do the homework on my own. Said I was a tosser for not doing it.”

Remus snorted and nuzzled his nose into Sirius’ cheek, “Well, perhaps I ought to tell her that’s not how she should speak to my boyfriend.” 

“No.” Sirius hated how distant he sounded, “She’s got other things to worry about.”

The lycanthrope furrowed his eyebrows, “Like what?”

“Like you.” Sirius lied like it was nothing, “Who do you think puts hot cocoa and Honeydukes chocolate at your bedside after the full?”

“Then I should give her a sister of the year award.” Remus corrected, and Sirius nodded, “Perhaps you should.”

If only I could get a best brother award, Sirius thought. It was selfish. He knew that. It was wrong to envy Y/n and Remus’ relationship. Unfit to be jealous of his brothers relationship, but he couldn’t help it. Sirius wanted to be the one to chase all of Regulus’ demons away. Sirius wanted to hold him during every thunderstorm as he used to as children. Sirius should be happy for Regulus even if it weren’t because of him. 

It took a month before Remus was storming into the common room and yelled insanities at his sister. Remus wasn’t thinking, words fell from his mouth so carelessly, and the entire common room stared as Remus had his sister pushed against a wall, hands holding her up from the collar on her shirt, seething at her. 

“You must be one of the stupidest people I’ve ever met.” Remus seethed, and Y/n flinched, “You must be fucking insane.”

Sirius could do nothing but stare, “Maybe I should’ve disowned you as my sister the minute I saw you hanging out with him.”

Tears ebbed at Y/n’s eyes, “But I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I trusted you, and you betrayed me.”

James couldn’t tell what was worse, the fact that Remus was so calm and his voice was so low or when Remus yelled, “You were my everything. My sister, my partner in crime, my other half, and you fucking destroyed it.”

“Mate, stop.” James tried to interject, but Remus just shoved her against the wall harder, and streaks of silver appeared on her cheeks. 

“Wonder what dad would do if he found out.” Remus taunted, and Y/n shook her head, “You know how much dad despises them.”

Y/n choked, “Remus-“

“Don’t.” He snarled, “My name isn’t allowed to fall from your mouth. Fucking traitor.”

Sirius had enough, “Remus, stop. That’s enough.”

Remus whirled around, Y/n sliding to the floor, knees to her chest, “Who are you talk? You did the same thing back in fifth year.”

“I’m not your bloody sister.” Sirius snapped, “She’s been there with you through everything. Maybe if you let her explain, then you could understand.”

Remus pointed at her and looked at Sirius with fire in his eyes, “She isn’t my sister. She’ll never be my sister again.”

Sirius could remember the exact same words falling from his mouth only a year earlier, and it crushed him. Y/n was sobbing, and her knees were pulled tightly under her chin. James was trying to console her, but it wasn’t working as Remus and Sirius went toe to toe. Y/n didn’t deserve this for loving who she loved. 

Remus scoffed when Sirius wouldn’t back down and stormed up to the boy's dormitory. Sirius knelt before her and lifted her head from her lap. His thumbs wiped away the tears, and he took her into his arms. So much built-up pain, built-up trauma, built-up lies. She was finally crumbling like a tower on an unsteady foundation. Y/n was a one-hundred-story tower that was collapsing from the bottom up. 

Debris falling everywhere and soot clouding the atmosphere. He could see the smog slipping in her mind, clouding up her judgment and thoughts. Sirius could see the debris cluttering and scraping away at her heart. With every scrap and every tear, her heart began to give out. It felt like being crushed in an elevator, with no room to breathe and no room for moving. She was stuck, and that was it. 

Y/n couldn’t remember much after feeling Sirius’ lips on the top of her head. But she woke up on the plush of the common room couch. The rough maroon fabric was felt beneath her fingertips. Beside her was a boy in an armchair. He was curled up, and a black fleece blanket covered his body from the coldness of the Gryffindor common room. 

Beside her was a glass of water and a note. She picked up the water and allowed it to glide down her throat, soothing the ache from her earlier crying. Her nose still felt stuffy, and she willed herself to sniffle quietly, trying not to wake the boy beside her. The parchment was ripped at the edges and was written in beautiful calligraphy. 

"Il y a toujours des ténèbres avant que la lumière brille."

She folded the note and placed it back on the side table with the empty glass. The fire had gone out fully in the common room, allowing the temperature in the room to fall. It was cold, dry, and dark. Y/n had never seen the common room so dark. Not a candle was lit, and no light was shining from the windows. Just the slightest bit of moonlight. Gently she stood up and reached for the boy's hand in the armchair. 

“Reggie.” Her voice was smooth and soft, “Reg.”

He stirred and opened his eyes to meet his girlfriend's warm ones. Sirius had rushed to the Slytherin common room despite all prejudice. Some of the Slytherins spat at him when he asked for the password. It took ten people before Regulus finally answered to the incessant knocking. He was shocked to be met with his older brother. 

There Sirius had told him what happened, how Remus had shoved his sister against the wall accusing her of betraying him for dating him. Regulus felt ashamed. He didn’t want to be the reason they didn’t get to be civil with each other. Sirius even uttered the exact words Remus had, “She isn’t my sister. She’ll never be my sister again.” Regulus had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying anything. 

People stared at the younger Black brother as he walked into the Gryffindor common room. The Gryffindor’s glared, spat, and insulted, but he didn’t care. He found his girlfriend lying on the couch with a thick red blanket surrounding her. Sirius had claimed that Marlene had brought it for her, and Sirius had been the one to move her to the couch. Regulus saw the dried tear stains, the swollen eyes, and the bruised lip. 

“It wasn’t pretty.” Sirius had muttered, “Remus isn’t one to hold back.”

Regulus smoothed her hair back, “This is because of me….”

“Reg, no.” Sirius had replied, “Remus will come around. He just doesn’t know how to digest this.”

The common room was silent, and Regulus just held her hand. His thumb stroked the back of her hand softly. Sirius watched as Regulus went through a wave of emotions. He was hurt, confused, concerned, and terrified. It was like watching the seasons go by. Watching everything welt, die, grow back and prosper just to repeat the cycle. It was like watching a new book turn into an old one as the ink was embedded onto the pages, the papers getting folded, tabs being placed, and the spine being cracked. 

Regulus appeared to be a sleek hardcover book, but she was his person. She turned him into a used paperback. One with highlighting, tabs, folded pages, a cracked spine, and a loved cover. His heart beat for her. She was the reason he woke up every morning, the reason he ate, the reason he got good marks. She was his reason. 

“I tried talking sense into him.” Sirius confessed quietly, “He just brought up the incident in fifth year.”

Regulus closed his eyes tightly and tried to withhold his tears, “Maybe I should talk to him.”

“No.” Sirius said sternly, “You’ll be asking for death.”

“What do I do, Sirius?” 

His blue-grey eyes were glittering with desperation, “Nothing… Take care of her.” 

With that, Sirius left a kiss on his younger brother's head and left the common room, retreating to the dormitory. Regulus sighed and placed his forehead on the back of her hand. Tears slipped from his eyes and onto the material of the couch. Everyone was gone at that point. The common room wholly cleared and the fire slowly decaying in the fireplace as Regulus Black finally allowed himself to break. 

He woke up on an armchair with a soft thick black blanket covering his limbs. Red rimmed e/c eyes met his blue-grey ones, and he felt a wave of relief. Y/n reached her hand out, and Regulus took it, keeping the blanket around his shoulders as she brought him to her dormitory. The girls were sleeping, and Y/n sat down on her bed, Regulus doing the same. She drew the curtains and muttered a silencing spell. 

Regulus laid with his head on her pillow, pulling her to lay on his chest. He wrapped the fuzzy black blanket around them. Y/n nuzzled into his side, and he placed a kiss on the top of her head. They didn’t need to exchange words for expressing how they felt. They knew how the other felt. There was no need on elaborating. She fell asleep not too long after, and Regulus laid awake trying of solutions. 

Even when the sun broke the horizon, Regulus still had nothing. 

They continued the year like this. Remus and Y/n didn’t speak at all anymore. Remus went as far as to change his schedule and ignore the sweets left on his bedside after the full moons. Sirius would pretend it came from him, but Remus still would budge. He would chuck the chocolate in the trash even though he knew that Y/n barely had money in the first place to buy it. He’d dump the hot chocolate in the waste bin and smash the mug to get out any frustration. 

Sirius thought that the worst part was Remus never grieved for his sister. He never saw Remus cry or get upset about what he did. It was like Remus had no remorse for what he did. Sirius had grieved. He had sobbed in the midst of twilight with shit silencing charms. Sirius had wailed and clutched his blanket close to his chest, hoping it would soothe the aching of his heart. 

When they graduated, Remus didn’t look for his sister in the crowd. He didn’t care if she was there or not, but she was. Y/n was there holding Regulus’ hand tightly, watching her brother shake Dumbledore’s hand. She watched as Sirius embraced Regulus in a tight hug in the shadows. Y/n smiled bittersweetly at their embrace as Regulus took her hand back in his. 

Sirius began to open his mouth, “No need to lie. I know he doesn’t care if I was here or not.”

Y/n shuffled on her feet, and Sirius took her into his arms. Sirius was shorter than Regulus, and he didn’t smell the same, but his hugs were just as comforting in a brotherly way. His hand caressed her hair, and Sirius couldn’t help the way his heart ached. He shouldn’t be the one hugging her, Remus should, but he isn’t. Sirius kissed her forehead and released her from his hug. 

“I’ll write to you guys.” 

“Don’t get into too much trouble.” Y/n replied with tear-filled eyes, “I can’t imagine you gone.”

Sirius smirked, “Yes, ma’am. Don’t you know I always obey the rules?”

“She’s being real, Sirius.” Regulus didn’t crack a smile, “This war isn’t a joke, and I’d- I’d like to see you next year when I graduate.”

“I’ll be there.” Sirius said solemnly, “I won’t leave you guys. They won’t take me alive.”

Y/n cracked a smile, “Good.”

Regulus nudged his girlfriend, and she wiped the tears from her cheeks, “Protect him. He gets reckless and forgets about himself. Don’t let him do anything stupid.” 

Sirius could still hear Remus’ voice in their first Order meeting, “I swear on all Merlin if they touch her, they’ll be sorry.” 

“‘Course. Don’t forget he’s still my boyfriend.” Sirius replied, and Y/n smiled, “‘S why I’m asking you and not James. Keep- Keep my brother safe, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They joined the Order of the Phoenix without looking back. Remus, James, Sirius, and Peter quickly became some of the best Aurors of the Ministry of Magic. Sirius had made the Daily Prophet multiple for putting Death Eaters in Azkaban. Many citizens of the Wizarding community thought of him as the next Alastor Moody. 

Seventh year was the worst one yet. Most of the Slytherin Death Eaters were attacking the younger kids. Most of the older Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs had to defend them from the unforgivable curses. It seemed normal to hear the crucio curse being thrown away and seeing green flashes. It made Y/n sick to her stomach. 

It got so surreal that Y/n and Regulus had begun sleeping behind tapestries or hidden tunnels. Dormitories and common rooms were no longer safe. Their backs ached, and body’s sore from lying on concrete, but it was better than dying. Graduation was not a celebration, and no one from outside was allowed in, but Sirius waited for them at Kings Cross. 

The next time Y/n saw Remus was when she was being sworn into the Order, and he barely spared her a glance. Not long after the speech was being spoken, another person entered the meeting point. He was shockingly familiar with wavy black hair and blue-grey eyes. Remus jumped out of his seat, and James had to hold him back. Regulus released a breath and stood beside his girlfriend. 

“Now. I’m sure there’s a lot of confusion.” Dumbledore began calmly, “Regulus has sworn to be our spy.”

Remus growled, “He’s a Death Eater.”

“Exactly.” Remus glared at the old Professor, “Therefore, he can enter and participate in their meetings. Then he can come back here and report what he knows.” 

“I don’t like it any more than you do.” Regulus said, “I don’t want to put anyone in danger, but someone needs to do it.”

Remus went to speak, but Regulus cut him off, “Someone needs to protect your sister.”

Everyone stared in shock at the bold statement that came from the young Black brother's mouth, and Remus leaped from his seat, “She is a traitor. Just like you.”

Instinctively Regulus moved her behind him as Remus was now face to face with him, “She’s everything but. Wasn’t she the one who stopped Fenrir Greyback from killing you?”

“Shut up.”

“Wasn’t she the one who cleaned your wounds after the full moons before the Marauders?” 

“I’m warning you.”

“Wasn’t she the one who used to make you hot chocolate when the nightmares got too bad that you couldn’t sleep?”

Remus snapped, and Sirius pulled him away from Regulus. But they all saw how Y/n cowered when he lunged forward, how she flinched back, covering her face with her hands. Regulus kept a tight hold on her hand, and they watched as Sirius calmed Remus down, bringing him upstairs. When Remus was gone, Dumbledore spoke again. 

“Well, the first Order meeting will be announced in just a couple of days. It allows Y/n and Regulus to get in their positions.” Dumbledore announced, “It allows Y/n to get some training and Regulus to get Voldemort’s trust.”

Everyone dispersed. Y/n and Regulus apparated to a flat they had bought in London. It was relatively modern for the time and had everything they needed. The place was clean and brand new. When they landed in the living room, she went straight to the bedroom. Regulus prepared her a hot drink and set it at her bedside table with a warming charm. He laid beside her, placing her head on his heart. 

“Je Vous Aime.” His french accent was so smooth and gentle, like a baby blanket, “Je t'aime aussi.”

Everything just got more stressful as time passed. Regulus’ job got more and more dangerous, making Y/n worry profusely. It got to times where they had to pretend to throw curses back and forth so he could prove that he was loyal to them. It wasn’t until a rumor of a spy for the Death Eaters came out that Regulus’ job became crucial. It took three more meetings, and on October 15th Regulus knew who it was. 

He could remember the day vividly how Voldemort welcomed Peter Pettigrew to the Death Eaters with open arms. Regulus had stared in mock happiness but, in reality, had been shocked. Someone so close to the Potters had gone and betrayed him. So when Peter was absent from one meeting, Regulus brought it up. 

“They spy is Pettigrew.”

“No.” James chuckled, “You’re lying, right?”

Regulus shook his head, “He plans to kill you, Lily, and Harry on Halloween.”

Everyone stiffened. The air was tense, but Dumbledore smiled victoriously, “Beautiful work, Regulus. We’ll apprehend Pettigrew when he’s seen again.”

They had set up a false meeting where Peter got sent to Azkaban only two days later after Regulus announced he was the traitor. That sparked the war between them, and this time, Regulus was on the right side, the side he always wanted to be on. A week later, and on Halloween, Voldemort was dead. Many people's lives were lost, but many were saved. 

After the war, Remus had proposed to Sirius, and yet Y/n was still not invited to the wedding. Sirius had begged Remus to make amends with her. The war was over. This nonsense was not needed anymore. But Remus was stubborn, and Y/n was too afraid to approach him, so James gave her the invisibility cloak to watch her brother marry. Not the ideal way she planned on watching her brother and his love get married. 

A couple of months later, Regulus and Y/n did the same. Except they did it alone, with Sirius being their only witness and the person marrying them. Sirius couldn’t help but feel awful for Remus not being able to walk her down the aisle, not to see her in the pretty dress she had picked out. It wasn’t until fifteen years later when Y/n had two teenage boys, and a little girl did someone came knocking on her door during the winter holidays. 

Both boys were running around the house, and their little sister was trying to keep up. Two twin boys who were fifteen - Romeo and Romulus. A little girl who was just about ten named Ascella. Romulus was a carbon copy of Sirius. Romeo had the Lupin sandy hair and the Black family eyes with the Black family defined face. He was the best of both worlds. Ascella looked like a female Regulus. 

Romeo was the Keeper of the Slytherin house for Quidditch. Romulus played Beater for Gryffindor, and little Ascella would get her Hogwarts letter in just about a year. Regulus and Y/n both predicted she’d be in Gryffindor with her brave, mischievous nature. Y/n was the one to get the door with her two boys behind her. Ascella had been called into the living room by her father. 

Y/n was shocked to meet familiar green eyes, “Um- hi.”

“Hey.” Remus said nervously, scratching the back of his head, “I hope I’m not intruding.”

Both boys behind her looked confused, “Mum, who is this?”

A pang of hurt hit Remus, “This- This is my brother.”

“Brother?” Romulus questioned, “Like he’s our uncle?”

“Yes.” Y/n retorted, “Now you boys grab your sister. Go do something upstairs while we talk, yeah?” 

Romeo looked crestfallen, “Mum, we aren’t five.”

“I know, but we have a lot of talking to do.”

Romeo sighed, “Fine but be safe.” 

She kissed the tops of their heads, “Of course.”

Ascella was running to her brothers within seconds after Romulus called for her. Remus saw her black hair flutter around as she followed her brothers up the steps. Y/n smiled and motioned for Remus to come inside. The house was lovely and decorated for the holidays. Y/n walked through the hallway to the living room, and Remus followed. 

“I apologize for the mess.” She chuckled, “Having the boys home makes the house messy.”

Remus saw the pictures on the wall, “A Slytherin and a Gryffindor.”

Y/n smiled, “Yep. Romeos the Slytherin, and Romulus is the Gryffindor. We have a feeling Ascella will be in Gryffindor too.”

He placed the picture back down and sighed, “Merlin, what did I miss?”

Regulus was still stiff and stern, “A lot if you couldn’t tell already. That’s what happens when you call your sister a traitor and decide to disown her.”

All three children were listening secretly and grimaced at their father's words, “But don’t worry. I’ve done your job. I’ve been there for her, protected her, and made sure she was happy.” Regulus snapped, “And Sirius did your job of being the children’s uncle.”

“He didn’t even tell me you guys had kids.” Remus muttered, “‘Course he didn’t. In case you don’t remember, you didn’t want anything to do with us.” Regulus retorted. 

The children had never heard their father speak this way with so much ice in his words. Regulus was blunt and unapologetic, “We wanted you to be a part of our family, Remus, we really did. But we didn’t know how you’d feel.” Y/n informed. 

“Plus, the last time you saw us, you tried to kill Regulus.” Ascella covered her ears, and Romeo ushered them to his room to stop listening, “Yeah, so forgive us for not inviting you to be a part of our family.”

Regulus punctuated his statement by putting his arm around Y/n’s waist, “I’m sorry.” Remus murmured. 

“I’m really sorry for how I acted. It was immature and stupid of me.” He continued, “I didn’t know how to feel when I heard my sister was with a Death Eater at the time, and I was just scared.”

Y/n stood up and hugged him, “Remus. What you did isn’t going to be forgiven. I’m sorry.”

He had tears glazing in his emerald green eyes that dulled with age, “I know we were young, but that doesn’t excuse the words you said or how you acted. Trying to kill my husband and saying god awful things about me.”

Y/n took her seat beside Regulus, and Remus sniffled, “You did this. Not us.” Regulus reminded, and Remus nodded. 

“Okay, I just- I’ll go.” Remus stood up from his seat and walked down the hallway to the front door; he took in every family portrait. 

When he got to the door, Y/n opened it for him, and he walked out, “Remus.”

He turned, and Y/n hugged him one last time. His chin rested on top of her head, breathing in her shampoo that still hadn’t changed since third year. The same perfume from fourth year. Her arms fit around him just the same way as they had when they were little children running around the lake. Y/n kissed his cheek and released herself from his embrace. 

“I may not be your sister.” Y/n repeated with tear-filled eyes, and Remus allowed the tears to fall; her two boys were standing beside her, “But you’ll always be my brother.”

The door had closed, and Remus decided that that was the end of his chapter. He had underlined, circled, highlighted, and folded every significant page, but this was the end of the chapter. He was flipping to the next page, where the new chapter began. The new chapter where he had to live without his sister or his niece and nephews. 

Remus always loved fragile, cracked paperbacks. 

[captainsophiestark]

Love Has Many Forms

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2022!

Fandom: Star Wars

Prompt: “That was never my intention.”

Summary: After spending months working closely with Obi-Wan Kenobi (and falling in love in the process), it's finally time for Y/N to say goodbye to Obi-Wan as he's recalled to Coruscant for the next pressing, urgent Jedi mission. But goodbyes are never easy or simple, especially when it comes to someone you love.

Word Count: 2,454

Category: Angst but hopeful

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed heavily as I sank onto my sofa, facing the windows overlooking my city. Any minute now, a ship would rise up from the central space port and take off into the night sky, carrying the love of my life away with it.

I'd met Obi-Wan Kenobi for the first time just over a four months ago, when he and his fellow General Anakin Skywalker had been dispatched to my planet. I had information that could help them in their fight against Count Dooku and the Separatists, and as a result, quite a few people wanted me dead. While Anakin went out with his padawan, Ahsoka, to go undercover and fight back against the Separatist spies, Obi-Wan stayed with me. We spent most of our days together, going over plans and things I knew, and then just talking about nothing as he kept me from being murdered. I'd come to truly love him in the time we'd spent together, and he made it clear he felt the same way about me.

Unfortunately for the both of us, our love story was fated to have a bad end. The Jedi Order forbade its members from having relationships and falling in love, and after months of being in paradise together, the threat had officially been stopped and the mission had come to an end. Obi-Wan and all the others had been recalled to Coruscant, and it was quite likely I'd never see them again.

I curled up under a blanket and watched the night sky, determined to see Obi off, even if I wouldn't actually be seeing him in person again. It was easier this way, with no tearful goodbye, even though it still hurt like hell to lose him.

I waited, carefully scanning the sky and not daring to look away for too long lest I miss him. The minutes crept by, until I was startled out of my watchful vigil by a knock at the door.

I glanced backwards at the door, then at the sky where I still waited for the small prick of light that would be Obi-Wan's ship. I hesitated. Whoever was at my door could wait to call on me until tomorrow morning, surely?

"Y/N, it's me."

Obi. I recognized his voice in a second, and I felt my heart shatter all over again. I tossed my blanket off of my lap and onto the couch as I stood, then made my way to the door. I took a deep breath, hoping it would steel me, then turned the doorknob and came face to face with Obi-Wan.

"Obi... what are you doing here?" I asked, unable to hide the hurt and exhaustion lacing my every word. I'd expended all of my energy keeping it together in front of him and Anakin for the past few days, once we knew our time together was drawing to a close, and I just didn't have it in me anymore.

"I wanted to say goodbye," he said, taking a careful step forward. I sighed but moved aside all the same, letting him into my home before closing the door behind him. I turned to face him, wrapping my arms around myself in the hopes it would provide some comfort. "It just... didn't feel right to leave without saying goodbye."

I closed my eyes, fighting against the physical pain crushing my chest. Seeing him would do nothing but rip my heart out even more than it already had been, which was why I hadn't wanted to do a goodbye like this in the first place.

"We said goodbye. When I gave you the last of the files and information I had yesterday, and we officially wrapped up the case," I said without opening my eyes. I heard Obi-Wan take a few steps towards me, closing the distance until I could feel his warmth radiating from right in front of me.

"That didn't feel like a particularly fitting goodbye, since Anakin, Ahsoka, Rex, and Cody were also there, and we were mostly talking about business."

"So what?" I asked, a sharper edge to my tone as I finally opened my eyes. Being so close to him and seeing the spectrum of colors in his piercing blue eyes almost destroyed me. "You wanted to make this harder? Wanted to draw out our goodbye and break my heart even more, as though it's not already broken enough?"

Obi-Wan started a little, but he held his ground. "That was not my intention."

"Then what, Obi-Wan? What did you hope to accomplish in coming here?"

"Truthfully, I couldn't bear the thought of leaving without seeing you again. Without making sure you knew beyond a doubt just how much I care about you."

He took my hands in his as he spoke, his face full of hopeful vulnerability. I had to look away again, because looking at him like this just hurt too much.

"Obi... you know I love you, too. But you're a Jedi. Which means we can never be. Your Order's laws forbid it."

"...What if they were no longer my Order?"

Now I looked at him, surprise temporarily distracting from the ache in my chest. I searched his face, but I found nothing but complete sincerity written there.

"Obi, you can't be serious? Are you telling me you want to leave the Jedi Order?"

He took a long, deep breath, and held my hands tighter as he answered.

"For you? I'd leave it all behind in a heartbeat. I cannot continue to be a Jedi and have a relationship with you... and I know what I'd choose any day."

I stared at him for a few more moments, at his beautiful, kind face and gorgeous eyes, and allowed myself to imagine it. Anakin and the rest would go back to Coruscant without Obi-Wan. He'd stay here, with me, and we'd make a life for ourselves. The two of us, living normal, peaceful lives, never to be separated again.

It sounded like heaven, for me. But for Obi-Wan, my beloved, wonderful man... he'd be giving up his life. His good heart was one of the reasons I fell in love with him in the first place, and it was also what compelled him to be a Jedi, to do his best to help people every day and make the universe a better place. I knew that, if he gave that up, he'd never truly be satisfied. And if I really loved him, I had to think of him. To put his needs before my own.

"Obi... I love you so much, more than anyone else I have ever met," I started, gripping his hands tight as I pulled him closer to me. The tears were coming now, and I could do nothing to stop them. "But you cannot give up this life you love for me."

"I am perfectly happy to give up one thing I love for another. I love you, Y/N, and if you let me, I will stay here with you. Build a new life, with you."

"My wonderful, beautiful Jedi, you would not be giving up just one thing you love. You would be giving up everything you love, save one person, and you could never go back. I see how you are with Anakin. With Ahsoka, with the clone troopers under your command. I see the light in your eyes when you do something to make a difference in someone's life, or have an adventure to save the galaxy. We may have only known each other for a few months, Obi-Wan, but I've gotten to know you very well. And you cannot give up all of those wonderful things just for me."

He started to protest, but I cut him off with a raised hand.

"Not to mention," I continued, even as a pained look crossed his face, "all the people in the universe that have been helped by you. What kind of selfish monster would I be to take you away from all the people you continue to help, each and every day?"

"No more selfish than me," he replied, taking one step closer and completely closing the distance between us, pulling me to his chest with a hand around my waist. "For leaving them all behind to spend my life with you."

I gently rested my hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders as he slowly, slowly leaned down to close the distance between us. The kiss started out soft, but then deepend and intensified as we both gave in to the passion of the moment, and the knowledge that this might very well be the last time we were together like this.

"Please," Obi muttered against my mouth as we backed into a wall. He moved to kiss along my cheek and neck, breathing words as he went. "Please, say you'll let me stay with you. Damn the rest of the galaxy. You're all that matters."

"I love you with absolutely all of my heart, Obi," I said, the tears falling in earnest now. I pulled his face up to mine and kissed him hard, just one last time, before pulling away. His arms stayed wrapped around me, his head bobbing back towards mine, but I held my ground. "And because you are all that matters to me, I have to tell you to go. There is so much in the world that matters to you, whether or not you want to admit it. And I consider myself lucky to be counted as one of those people. But I can't take you away from everyone and everything else, no matter how much I may want to."

Obi-Wan sighed, long and heavy, his head hovering in the crook between my neck and shoulder. He didn't move for a few long moments, but then finally, although it seemed to take him a great amount of effort, he pulled back. His hands dropped from my waist, yet he still stood just in front of me, a sad, reserved look on his face.

"So I suppose this is it, then?"

I nodded, not even bothering to wipe at the tears streaming down my face. Obi-Wan looked on the verge of tears too, but he mastered himself before removing the cloak from his shoulders and wrapping it around me, instead. He fastened it carefully, then wiped the tears from my face, his movements so tender I wanted to melt.

"Then I'll leave you with this, to remember me by. I hope we meet again, but if we don't, know that I'll always carry you with me, no matter where I go."

I nodded, a little too overcome for words, and after holding my gaze for another long moment, Obi-Wan turned and headed for the door. I should've let him go, but I couldn't help myself from voicing the question that had been plaguing me for months now.

"What is so bad about love that makes the Jedi Order deem it so completely unacceptable?"

Obi stopped, and I saw his shoulders rise and fall with a sigh before he turned to look at me, a sad smile on his face.

"It's not love itself the Order deems so unacceptable. It's the things one does for love, when they let themselves get completely swept away by it. Love is simultaneously the best defense against the Dark Side, and the fastest path to joining its ranks. If something were to happen to you, for example, I have no doubt that I would tear the world apart for you, if need be."

"And I you, I suppose," I added. Obi-Wan nodded and started to turn, but I continued. "Just know that... I'll carry you with me, even if we aren't so lucky as to see each other again. And my love for you will make me stronger, even in the midst of heartbreak. You were and will continue to be a force for the Light in my life, Obi-Wan."

He faced me fully and nodded, a sorrowful smile rising to his face once more.

"Likewise, my love. And I will work as hard as I can to use my life well, and to make the rest of the universe a place where love can exist without war and fear clouding it."

I nodded, and we shared one last look before he turned to the door again, and this time I did not stop him. I stared after him until it clicked shut behind him, and even after that, I didn't move for a few minutes once he was gone.

The tears came again as I realized Obi-Wan was well and truly leaving my life, and there was no denial to save me from it after our goodbye. I went back to my place on the couch, wrapped up in Obi-Wan's cloak instead of my blanket, and watched out the window as the telltale light of a ship's engine at last rose from the space port, carrying Obi-Wan away from my life forever.

I watched as the ship disappeared into space beyond the atmosphere, and even after they were out of sight, I continued to stare up at the stars, where I knew Obi-Wan was, somewhere. I knew for a fact I was not Force-sensitive, but all the same, I could swear I felt him physically getting farther and farther away.

The physical pain in my chest renewed, absolutely crushing me under its weight as I continued to stare at the sky. Eventually, my gaze drifted to the city below me, and although the heartache didn't ease, I couldn't help a small smile at the sight of my home, safe and well and functioning as normal thanks to the work Obi and I had done.

After all, love was the only thing worth living for, really. And that love could come in many forms. I'd lost the love of my life tonight, without a doubt. But I still had my family, and all the friends I'd made in the place I called home. The sun would rise tomorrow, and warm my world with its glow. I could walk to my favorite bakery and smell my favorite treats, and sip on a warm drink while listening to the sounds of children playing in the street. Love could mean many things, and take innumerable forms. And although Obi-Wan and I couldn't be together, there was still plenty of love in my life to cherish.

I would continue to live, and to love and to hope. And maybe one day, in this world or whatever may come after, I'd be reunited with Obi-Wan, too. Only a fool would underestimate the power of love, after all.

[buckyownsmylife]

Follow you - Chris Evans smut

The one where Chris becomes your roomate and finds out he has a domesticity kink... and more

Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, domesticity kink, friends to lovers, rommates au, pandemic mention, hair-pulling kink, daddy kink, cockwarming, kind of allusion to an age gap, but can be read as reader being into teasing chris

Word count: 4.1k

A/N: Thanks to @mollygetssherlockcoffee​ for reading this over and helping me make it better! You’re the sweetest person ever!  this is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them. Hope you guys like it!

Chris’ P.O.V.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” I’d been trying to convince her to close her laptop for the last two hours, unfortunately without any luck. She just glanced at me before returning to her document, and I groaned as I left the living room in search of what I knew we needed.

“Close the laptop and I’ll give you a sip.” This time when she looked up, she found me holding a bottle of my most expensive whiskey, the one she’d been dying to try ever since she first got invited to my place.

It was a tense moment of evaluation while she took in my offer and her workload, her head turning from her computer to me and then back to the device again, and I found himself growing anxious because of how desperately I wanted her company that night.

“Please?” I tried to convince her, even going so far as to pout - which at least earned me a giggle. I considered it a win, especially with the way it made my chest warm up. “C’mon, we deserve it! After the week we had?”

She frowned when she thought back on the stresses we had confided in each other for the last couple of days, and I watched with glee when she slowly closed her laptop, prompting me to wave my arms around in victory. “We?” She teased, getting up to stand before me with her arms crossed in front of her body, making me laugh.

“Alright, so maybe just you.” I couldn’t really deny that my work “problems” paled in comparison to hers. “Listen, I’m only trying to help.” She narrowed her eyes at me, reaching out for the bottle and unscrewing it before taking the sip I’d promised.

“Shit, this really is good.” A smug smile took over my face as I wrapped my arms around her, walking us back to the couch before making us fall over it.

“Only the best for you, babe.” I watched her roll her eyes at the pet name, snickering at how it affected her. I knew it made her giddy and she hated it, it’s why I insisted on doing it - or so I told myself.

Something deep inside of me whispered differently, though. I tried to ignore it. She was my best friend and we were going to be living together for the foreseeable future. No one knew when this pandemic would let up.

And lord knows that nothing positive had ever come out of my investments in romantic relationships. So every rational thought in my mind was begging me not to overcomplicate this. I couldn’t stand to lose her friendship, anyway. That’s why I had invited her to spend lockdown with me - my need to know she was okay, and be able to have her around whenever I needed to vent.

She was the only one outside my family who got my anxiety well enough to help me work through it when I was feeling bad, and she had even been able to prevent me from having panic attacks more than once.

I just couldn’t imagine going through this with anyone other than her. I simply hadn’t anticipated how fucking horny this period of forced sexual privation would make me, and I never expected her to become a willing victim to my needs.

But boy, once the liquor hit and she ended up over my lap, shivering as she rode my thigh without a care in the world, was I glad that she did.

“Is this what you like?” I asked, looking up at her with my mouth hanging open, unbelieving of how fucking sexy she looked as she used my body for her pleasure. I didn’t even care that my cock was straining against my jeans, begging me to move her on top of it. As long as I could keep enjoying the show, being a part of it, I was satisfied.

“I wanna learn it,” I pressed, moving my hands to hold her ass, squeezing it the way I’d always wanted to do but never allowed myself to dream about. “I wanna learn how to please you.” She made me feel something I hadn’t felt before, in any of my past relationships. There was attraction, of course, but there was also this deep, familiar feeling that made me feel at home. It made me feel safe, and with the help of alcohol, I was desperate to explore it.

“Ugh,” she groaned, letting her head fall back, drawing my attention to her breasts, the way they bounced in front of my eyes, unfortunately still covered. My mouth watered at the sight of it, wanting nothing much than to strip her bare and wrap my lips around one of her nipples.

“Don’t say stuff like that, Evans.” The comment threw me off, making me frown as I took a hold of the hair on the back of her head and yanked her to me, devouring her lips. They were soft - so much softer than I’d ever allowed myself to imagine.

“Why not?” I panted against her mouth once I was forced to separate from her taste of whiskey to search for some oxygen. She kept moving, her eyes hazy and glossed over, and it sent a pang of lust straight down my body when I realized it wasn’t completely due to the drinks we shared. There was also desire in there.

“You want to learn?” She asked, hands bunching up my shirt as she used her hold to grind against me faster. “Then fuck me, Chris.” She molded her body to mine, engulfing my lips once more as I laid her down on the couch, excited to have her underneath me - excited to see her naked body, explore it, get to know every little thing that made her tick.

I knew it would be a moment I’d forever remember, regardless of the amount of bourbon in my blood. I just never expected it to become something I was so eager to relive over and over and over again.

It was supposed to be a one time thing. When I woke up in the morning, I was ready to go back to being roommates. We were good at that. She was a morning person, by the time I woke up every morning, she already had breakfast ready for me, and then we’d go out to the backyard to let Dodger out together.

We’d sit and talk and then I’d go for a run - she’d have done her yoga already, while I was still asleep - I’d answer some e-mails, she’d work on her laptop by my side and the silence was just as comfortable as all of our late night conversations.

She’d sneak out to the kitchen and come back with a few sandwiches for our lunch, and then the rest of the day would go by with us doing whatever mundane task we had in mind, together even if we were doing separate things, and I didn’t feel suffocated.

I didn’t even run out of things to say. By the time dinner rolled around and I followed her back to the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes while she fixed us dinner - I wasn’t allowed to cook in my own stove, mostly because she was terrified of my food but hid it under the excuse of that one time when I started a fire - then we’d eat together, watch a movie together, talk until we fell asleep - always together.

I was shocked. It’d never been this way in any of my previous relationships. In fact, I was certain it was the reason why they had never worked. I’d given up on any realistic expectation of settling down precisely because of this: I just never expected to find anyone with whom a day-to-day life wouldn’t eventually grow boring.

It’d been three months and I still loved to wake up to her coffee. We still fell asleep every night side by side, too tired to move into different beds because we had laughed our asses off after skyping Scott.

And now that sex came into play in our relationship? I just knew there was no way I’d ever go back to being nothing but friends - or living in a place where she wasn’t the first person I saw when I woke up.

It sucked that it took a pandemic and a night of alcohol to make me realize that, but damn, was I grateful that I decided to open a bottle of whiskey that evening.

I kept waiting for the catch, the moment it would all go to shit, but it never came. Our lives resumed to how they used to be, only now I had this ongoing inner battle to not just bend her over the nearest piece of furniture when we were busy, and the ability to do exactly that whenever there was nothing else to do.

And for a while it was bliss. There wasn’t a nagging voice inside my head questioning this arrangement because it was theoretically perfect. I had a best friend, a roommate and a fuck buddy, all wrapped into one single person that I adored.

Life couldn’t possibly get better - until I realized that I wanted more. Talks of lockdown being over started and she had plans of going back to her place, of course, but I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from her.

I wanted to see my family too, but I wanted to take her with me. Introduce her to my mom, see her get along with my sisters. Witness how she’d be with my nephews and nieces - I knew how much she loved kids. And that’s when it hit me.

I’d given my heart to her. Somewhere between the morning coffees and afternoon runs, the nights where I’d rant about all of my silly problems and she actually listened to them - really listened, never making me feel bad about what could only be described as rich people problems.

All the innocent little gestures, and the not so innocent ones - when I discovered she was exactly the nasty slut I’d always dreamed of, the way she would randomly drop to her knees and suck me off, even while I was on the phone. Most times she didn’t even let me repay the favor. She just genuinely liked to blow me.

She also liked to play with me randomly, like when we were watching a movie and she mindlessly reached for my crotch, rubbing me until I got hard. It almost always ended in sex, and I just loved it.

I loved it, and I loved her, and the idea of her ever sharing this idyllic lifestyle with anyone else made me irrationally jealous.

And that’s how I knew it. I didn’t want to mess it up. But how could I not fuck this up?

Xxx

“Chris…” Her sweet voice called out to me, reaching my ears while I was hiding in my office, trying to get my thoughts in order so I wouldn’t just randomly blurt out what I was feeling for my best friend to my best friend.

To her credit, she didn’t try to force me to keep her company - but that only made me fall even deeper for her, leaving me a complete and utter mess while she went about her day as if nothing was wrong in the world.

“Yes?” I looked up to see her by the threshold, clearly reticent about invading my privacy. It made me smile, thinking back on all of the times my exes hadn’t been as understanding, even after I let them clearly know what I was needing.

“I made cupcakes, do you want me to bring you one?” The thought of her in the kitchen, baking a sweet treat just for me had my cock twitching in my pants. Biting my lips, I pushed away from my desk to finally get up and stretch my legs, taking advantage of the monitor to hide my hard-on.

“No, I’ll come eat them downstairs with you.” She smiled before leaving, and I soon trailed after her, walking into the kitchen to find the most delicious-looking little treats, just waiting to be devoured.

Much like her, I supposed.

I was reaching for one of them, already licking my lips in anticipation when something caught my eye, prompting me to raise my gaze and look at her again, but really look at her this time.

She was wearing an apron.

There was nothing inherently sexual about the damn thing, but the way she looked with it, going about her business in my kitchen like she owned the place… It just felt right, seeing her there.

And suddenly I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Y/N…” I started, leaving the cupcake back on the counter and brushing off the crumbs as I circled the kitchen island to go stand in front of her. She hummed before turning to meet me, smiling slightly to signal that she was listening to what I had to say.

But I didn’t know how to say it. So we just stood there, staring at each other until eventually her smile became a frown. “Chris, what’s going on?” I still couldn’t speak. Much to my absolute surprise though, she just sighed, wiping her hands on the apron while shaking her head, a knowing smile on her face.

“You’re stressed, aren’t you? You’ve been working so much, that’s why I thought the cupcakes would be a good idea,” she explained nodding towards the tray where her sweet treats laid. “They’re a reward and a break all wrapped in one delicious cake.”

The comment was like a punch to the stomach - or a scalding wave of desire rushing through my body, straight to my groin. The idea of her thinking about my needs and catering (quite literally) to them just did something to me, and I didn’t know how to explain it - I don’t think I understood it myself.

“But since they didn’t work…” she continued, blissfully unaware of the conundrum she had put me into. “I know something else that will definitely work.” And just like that, the woman dropped to her knees in front of me, reaching for my sweatpants before I could find a way to close the mouth that was hanging open.

“I guess I’ll grab a sweet treat for myself.” She looked so devious, small hand encircling my already pathetically engorged member, that all I could do was whisper an, “Oh, shit,” when she immediately wrapped her lips around it,  starting to suck me off without any preamble.

My fingers were white as I held onto the counter behind me to keep myself up. She looked so good, staring up at me with her lips wrapped around my dick, I felt like I was about to blow already.

Why did she have to be such a fucking tease?

“Oh, God,” I moaned when she managed to engulf the entirety of my member inside her throat, the choking noises getting to my head. My hand instinctively laced with her hair, first to hold her lips close to my navel, then to pry her completely off of my member.

“What’s wrong?” She questioned once she was able to speak, surprise written all over her features while I was still staring down at her slightly teary face and trying to find my voice.

“I-I have a problem.” There. I said it. I had finally made some progress in my goal to let her know what was going through my head. Only instead of curiosity, what I got was a confused expression from the woman still holding my dick, her eyes darting from my own to the member throbbing between her fingers.

“No, you don’t!” It would have been funny if I wasn’t so fucking frustrated. Yanking her by the hair, I complained, “Not that kind of problem!” pulling her to the living room so I could throw her on the couch, trying to ignore her moans of pleasure in the process.

I’d figured out pretty early on that she had a pretty serious hair-pulling kink, and if my plans of sitting down and having a level-headed conversation were ever in motion, they surely went out of the window the second she pulled my body down to cover hers and adjusted my cock so it would easily fill her.

“Son of a…” I groaned, letting my head fall down against her chest as the little vixen gleefully giggled underneath me, legs wrapped around my torso as she tried to thrust up and tempt me to move.

“Just wait a second,” I managed to reason, but she just shook her head.

“Fuck away your problem, Chris. Use me. I want you to.” Motherfucker. I really couldn’t catch a break with her. Just as she started to make me move again, my hand instinctively wrapped around her neck, lightly squeezing it just enough to get her to shut up.

“I wanna start a family with you,” I finally spilled, looking deep into her eyes as I tried to ignore that I was still balls deep inside of her. Her eyes widened, and now her mouth was the one hanging open.

I couldn’t really relish in it because she looked absolutely delicious and she felt stupidly heavenly to my throbbing dick.

A few seconds went by without as much of a reaction from her and I was about to pull out - despite still being achingly hard - but her legs held me tighter, stopping my plans of leaving her tight haven.

“You know…” She started to speak, a little out of breath, catching my attention as I finally gathered the courage to look her in the eye again. “When I first met you, I thought you were the epitome of a fuckboy.”

The unexpected sentence had me snorting, and then I just couldn’t stop laughing. Finally pulling away from her, she fixed her hair when she sat up and I did the same, shaking my head slightly as I rubbed my eyes.

Our own relative nakedness - well… mine, she was wearing her usual dress with no underwear under the damn apron - didn’t affect anything when I pondered over her words, until I decided to break the silence.

“I mean… I think I was?” She chewed on her bottom lip as she took in my response, analyzing it, weighing its validity in that gorgeous head of hers. I was nervous, but she hadn’t blew me off yet. And quite honestly? I’d do anything for that little hope that was growing inside of me.

“What changed?” Was her question, so unexpected I couldn’t help but question, “Huh?”

“What made you change?” It wasn’t an unwelcome inquiry, especially when the response became clear to me, lighting up my brain and warming my chest, spreading all over my body until I had no choice but to voice it.

“I realized I could have a future with you.” My smile was vulnerable but honest, and in her eyes, I could see that she knew that. When she threw one leg over my lap, straddling my hips, I allowed myself to breathe deeply again, leaning on the soft cushion while taking a hold of her ass.

“So, how are we gonna do this?” She non-nonchalantly asked, slowly rubbing herself against my still half-hard member. I groaned when I realized the implication of her words, knowing that the meaning paired with the feeling of her wet lips dragging along my cock would get it back up in no time at all. “You wanna do me right now?”

The brashness of the question made my eyes light up, as weird as it may sound. In that moment, it became clear just how perfect for me she really was, giving me what I needed exactly in the way I didn’t know how to ask for it.

“See? This is why I’m in love with you.” She rolled her eyes at that, making me laugh. I’d anticipated the gesture, I knew it’d take her longer to say it, but it was alright. The fact that she was willing me to give me a child was more than enough proof of her feelings for me, if her entire behavior ever since she moved in wasn’t already.

“Shut up and fuck me, Evans.” Throwing her back against the couch, she yelped in surprise when I took off my shirt and slapped the inside of her thigh, assuming my usual position of hovering over her smaller frame.

“Spread your fucking legs, darling. I’m gonna fuck you real good.” The way she bit her lip as I slowly penetrated her again showed me just how excited the prospect got her, and as I started to make good on my promise, her moans told me just as much.

“Holy fuck,” she commented as I pounded her ruthlessly, weeks of frustration and the rush of anticipation getting the best of me, and I was glad for the feeling of her nails biting into my skin because otherwise, I’d probably run over the edge of not even caring about her own pleasure as I chased mine.

“You gonna cum inside of me, honey? Make me a mom? Finally fulfill your dream of becoming a daddy?” Her words detracted me from my task of sucking bruises on the skin that was now mine to bruise, mine. I threw my head back, yelling a, “fuck yes,” as my hips sped up, desperate to fill her up, but I was determined to get her to cum before me.

“Say it,” she ordered, small hand circling my throat as best as she could, a throwback to what I’d done only moments prior. It wasn’t enough to choke me, but it did catch my attention. “I wanna hear you say it.”

Tears escaped the corners of my eyes as I blinked, the intensity of the moment overwhelming in the best of ways. “God, you are such a fucking tease…” She chuckled underneath me, giving my throat a squeeze before she raised up on her elbows to kiss my jaw.

“Better get used to it… daddy.” And just like that, I realized that I had yet another kink I hadn’t known about before her. Or maybe it was just her, and I was obsessed with the damn woman, painfully turned on by every little thing that she did.

“I’m gonna cum deep inside your little pussy, sweetheart,” I finally gathered myself enough to do as she asked me to. “You’re gonna belong to me forever now. Give me kids, make me happy. How do you like that?”

The mischievous grin she gave me told me everything. “I love it.” I knew this was her way of saying what she couldn’t yet voice, and I’d take it. I’d take anything she gave me, any chance I got to love this wonderful woman.

We came together, both riding our highs in deep ecstasy. I moaned when I felt myself empty all of my seed inside of her, incredibly excited about the prospect of starting our future together right then.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” I cradled her face in my hands as I struggled to catch my breath, but she turned it to the side and pressed a kiss to my palm and I was breathless all over again. It was such a simple action, why did it get to me so much?

“You’re not too bad yourself, Chris.” I didn’t want to part with her warmth, so I just adjusted us on the sofa in a way that kept me inside of her, sighing contently as I realized I’d never have to sleep away from her again.

“I’m gonna stay right here all night.” I adjusted myself so I was resting my face on her boobs, perfectly happy to do just so, but by the tone of her voice, I knew she had a teasing smile when she called me an, “Old man.”

“And here I was, thinking you’d be able to go again.” Warmth filled my chest at the realization of just how badly she wanted me - just as much as I wanted her too. I was so damn ecstatic. Not even her pokes at my age would be able to affect me.

“Oh, darling��� better get ready,” I warned as I adjusted myself to hover over her again, taking notice of the excited glint in her eyes, the way she bit her lip as she stared back at me. “I’m never gonna get enough of you.”

The next morning, I added a new kink to the list of random bits of information that were driving me slowly insane as I felt the overwhelming need to bend the woman that I now got to call ‘mine’ over the nearest piece of furniture and rail her until I had cummed deep inside her pussy: seeing her in my shirt while cooking breakfast.

Yeah, I was going to live a happy life by her side.

[rabbitoid]

Full one by one pics and ✨commentary ✨:

George has the most challenging pose. Seriously. I had to look up so many things. He was one of the easiest to design with how simple the skin looks, a lottttt of creative freedom. The idea was to give him mad scientist vibes, it just goes with the goggles. The glasses being red tint is a ref to the colorblind video.

Dream is entirely green. Green man is green what can I say. Still Wild how the fluffy af hair actually look Somewhat similar to irl Dream. I gave him shorts and cloak to highlight(AHA) how he’s fast, agile and tricky. Kept the color scheme as small as possible. He is so green. I love him.

Sapnap was my MAIN back in the days and the bias is pretttttty clear to see. His pose was not hard but sketching this one especially made me realize I gotta be careful with the composition. This guy hold the entire pic together seriously. The lace up and bow thingy is my fav part. Had to change the color cause it was near invisible.

Badboyhalo was surprisingly hard to draw. Like damn I redo the legs about 3 times and kinda just gave up on perfecting the hands. He was 100% the easiest to color tho. Wonder why 😂. I’m really proud of how the face came out, this man just sparks joy I gotta capture that!! The blue thingy is. Intentional.

Antfrost brings a silly smile to my face when I drew him. Decided to change his head shape from the original design, now he looks Extra Fluffy and SOFT. Yes I looked up cats references, yes it look almost half an hour, no I was definitely not distracted with cute cat pictures— AND THE VELVET PIN. I’m kinda sad it’s not visible in the pic? The pose is Perfect for Ant and I wasn’t sure where to move the pin. It’s still hella cute here anyway look at himmmm

AwesamDude I have Beef with. Major beef. Actually with 2021 me. What is with the design? Why are there so many things going on? How does the chest plate work? Why is the crown thingy so detailed? Wtf were you trying to do with the hair? Seriously the actual sketch looks almost nothing like the header. I spent So Long trying to figure Something out. Ended up looking at Vergil pics, as you do. Was a little confused with the hands too but that’s old news. I mean, yeah I’m hella proud of this one it Somehow turned out fine but I straight up lose sanity figuring this one out.

Bonus : first first rough draft

MANHUNT CREW!

Pose from Ressha Sentai ToQger

Designs by me of 2021

Look at them they’re so cute. I miss manhunt something fierce.

[xmarchwarden-of-lothlorienx]

Sword & Shield

Boromir x gn!reader

Summary: Based off the lotr scenario game by @make-me-imagine

“Boromir chastises you after you get hurt because they are in love with you”

Authors Note: First thing I’ve written in almost a year! Hope you guys like it :) I’m glad to actually create again

__________________________________________

The tension in the room was so thick it was as if you could cut it with a knife. Boromir had told you to run and you didn’t. Your friend, your captain, who you so deeply admired, gave you the order to run. And yet, you didn’t.

——

The two of you had gone riding together on a trail beyond Gondor’s walls. It was a “scouting” expedition, but the ride was more for the pleasure of enjoying the warm summer sun. You both stopped for a rest near a stream. Stretching your legs and sitting next to one another on a felled tree. While laughing at some silly joke Boromir had told, there was a horrible sound and the horses began to rear. Orcs.

“(Y/N)! Take your horse and go. I shall hold them off.” Boromir’s voice lacked the edge of command he used with other soldiers, yet you knew he meant for you to heed him.

“No, we fight together,” you insisted, slashing an approaching orc. Boromir gave an exasperated huff.

“Now is not time for an argument,” he parried an attacking orc. As he held the beast off, you delivered a fatal blow.

“I’m not making it an argument, Boromir. I simply refuse to allow you to fight alone.” He gave a defeated sigh.

“Fine. But (Y/N), do be careful,” he stated, drawing into position to fight the additional oncoming orcs.

“I will,” you smirked, raising your sword to meet the blade of yet another ghastly orc.

You had fought well until an orc had backed you into the stream. The slippery stones underneath had caused you to lose focus on your opponent as you nearly fell. Before you regained your balance, the sharp blade of your enemy had cut into your arm. The pain made holding your sword feel unbearable.

“Boromir!” You shouted. You brought the hand of your good arm to the wound, attempting to stay the blood. Dropping your sword, you began to back away from the approaching orc. This time you slipped and failed to regain your balance. Scampering backwards to the opposite bank, the orc loomed over you. Before he could deal his final blow to you, Boromir struck him from behind.

As the orc fell away, Boromir knelt in front of you. He gently held your face.

“(Y/N), are you alright?” In his eyes, you noticed a level of worry that you had not seen before.

“Yes,” you nodded. “Well, I’ve been cut, and badly, but I think I’ll be alright.” At this, he began to exam your wound. He hastily pulled out a clean bandaging cloth kept in his field kit.

“This will have to do until we return to Gondor.” You flinched at the sudden pressure of him wrapping your wound. “Forgive me, but I must stop the bleeding.”

“I know, I know,” you muttered. As the adrenaline of battle wore off, the pain burned through your arm. After he tied off the bandage, Boromir picked you up and brought you to his horse, yours having fled during the fight. He placed you in the saddle and mounted after you.

Thus, how you ended up in a room with Boromir while he patched your wound. Since arriving in Gondor, he had hardly spoken a word. He seemed…upset to say the least.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Boromir slightly jumped, as if he had been snapped out of a day dream. “You should have run,” he said coolly.

“I know, but please, Boromir. Understand that I wanted to protect you. I couldn’t just run. Abandoning my closest friend just to save my own skin!”

He paused from wrapping the gash, looking into your eyes. “Yes, but it nearly got you killed. And I couldn’t live with myself if you were to-“ he paused. “-if something were to happen to you.” He finished his work dressing the injury.

You noticed his eyes had become glossy. “Oh, Boromir,” you wrapped your arms around him. “I’m sorry for worrying you, but I will always want to stand by you, even in the face of battle.”

He returned the hug, running a comforting hand up and down your back. “And I am sorry for not helping you sooner, (Y/N).”

“But you still saved me, didn’t you?” You mused. “My knight in shining armor.” You gave him a playful kiss on the cheek.

“Yes,” he blushed. “I suppose I did,” he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss on the crown of your head.

Tag List: @themerriweathermage @entishramblings @miriel-estelwen

[boldlyvoid]

Million Dollar Man | chapter two

18+

summary: Spencer's therapist recommended he branch out and meet new people who don't want to talk about his work... she didn't expect him to sign up for a Sugar Daddy website.

Content warnings: sugar daddy!spencer, age gaps (14 years), daddy kink, blow jobs, kissing, drinking mention, lowkey perv!Spencer, cum play, praise, oral (female receiving), grinding, love confessions, arrangements, Spencers anxiety, (more to add)

word count: 3.4K

a/n: updates on Wednesdays and saturdays at 2 pm est

Chapter Two | Masterlist

She sat on the subway with an anxious pit in her stomach and her purse held close to her chest. Her laptop in her bag, she didn’t want to lose it on her way to the most important meeting of her whole life.

Her story was becoming a book, she was almost done the final draft, they were making touch-ups to the cover and picking the type of paper today.

Her dreams were coming true within the next month, soon she’d have a physical copy of her book, her pre-sales were showing that she’d be on the bestseller list, and her name was finally going to be on the cover of this one.

She sighed and reached for her necklace, holding it between her fingers as she took a few deep breaths. She was doing so much better today than she was last year and it was all because of Spencer, he was the best thing to happen to her. To think she complimented his sweater vest and now he’s the only person in her life she can count on.

All she can think about is him for the rest of her journey, through 4 more stops she keeps her eyes closed as she thinks of all his little facts and his cute laugh. She smiles to herself and the anxiety slips away, she loves him and she knows that for sure, but she just doesn’t know how she loves him.

She’s never had a sibling, her best friends are all women, her previous boyfriends were all shit and her other sugar daddies were never this wonderful, and her parents are lesbians… she doesn’t know what her feelings really are for Spencer, mainly because she’s never known any other men to compare him to.

But she does know the exact moment she realized she fell for him.

He booked a hotel room in DC after a local case, asking her to meet him in there at 10 pm. She was waiting in the bathtub when he arrived, bubbles galore, her hair up and arms open, “welcome home, honey.”

He laughs, “you want me to get in there with you?”

She just nods, “let me take care of you, daddy?”

He takes off his blazer, pulls his tie off and starts to unbutton his shirt. She watches patiently as he gets undressed, and it’s not sexual to her. He’s her person, her best friend, the only human being she would ever share a moment like this with and that’s when it hits her.

She doesn’t accept it just yet.

It’s not until he’s lying on her chest, between her legs, cheek resting on her boobs as she runs a sponge over his back while he gives her a little run down on his terrible week. His co-worker almost died, his mom is stressing him out, the only good thing he has left is her and she knows that.

“And then I get to my moms facility and she’s had a really good day, she knows me and she knows all of my childhood again and she’s all right there in front of me and yet she’s so far away. I’m never going to get all the time I want with her and it’s really hard to accept.”

He shares things with her that he doesn’t even tell his therapist. Because his therapist doesn’t hold him like a child against her chest and tell him he’s okay when he get’s upset.

Y/N loves him, so she kisses his forehead, “I’m so sorry, I have 2 moms if you’d like to have one?”

“It’s okay, I would love to meet them sometime though,” he wraps his arms around her waist a little tighter under the water. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Did I mention my leg is 44 inches from hip to toe?” She asks in the middle of the silence, quoting pretty woman, knowing he hasn’t seen that far into the movie yet. “So basically we’re talking about 88 inches of therapy for the bargain price of $800 dollars a week.”

Her legs wrap around him and their naked bodies are closer than they’ve ever been and yet it’s completely platonic, “I’d spend a million dollars on you if it always meant feeling this good after.”

She runs her cheek along his wet hair as he snuggles into her neck, “mmm, I like the sound of that,” she teased. “My million dollar man.”

Her stop rolls around and she pulls herself out of her day dreams to get off the train and head to her meeting. She smiles as she walks through the station, up the stairs and onto the busy downtown streets when she gets a text with Spencers special chime. She opens it when she gets to where she’s going, safely inside and in the waiting room.

It makes her laugh in the waiting room. People look at her but she doesn’t care, he’s so special to her she feels butterflies in her stomach even when he’s not around.

“Y/N!” She hears her name being called by her editor, he’s over ecstatic as he comes running out to get her. “Come, come we have so many choices to make!” He jumps up and down as he holds her arm, like a child in a candy store.

“Andy, chill man,” she laughs at him and plays it cool, “It’s just the cover being finalized.”

“It’s our baby!” He teases back, pushing his glasses up and tugging her behind the glass doors of the office.

She’s surrounded by people and paper and huge versions of her book cover. She has a sharpie as she fixed mistakes and jots down final ideas. “And I wan’t Phil to look more human and less like data from Star Trek?”

“But Dorothy looks okay?” The artist asks, nervously and Y/N can tell.

“She looks beautiful! You really brought her justice,” she smiles, “really she looks the same in my head! It’s just Phil and I’m sure it’s tough getting a drawing to look like a robotic human, let alone human.”

“I have some ideas?” She opens up more, taking her iPad out and sliding it across the table, “I wanted to give him more of a Sophia feel? His face is silicone but his joints and everything are more like an Elon Musk crash dummy.”

“That’s perfect!” She’s shocked, “why didn’t that go in the first draft?”

“I was worried it was too much,” she’s a little older than Y/N, and yet her anxiety is that of a teenage girl. “I’m going to get working on the final, do you want some emailed versions tonight?”

“Yes please,” she smiles.

“So we’re done?” Andy asks, “we’ve made all our final calls?”

“I believe we have,” Y/N closes her laptop and takes her phone out, taking a photo of the final rough sketch of her book cover on the table to send to Spencer before he comes to pick her up. She can’t wait to see him now.

—

They’re sitting side by side in matching spa robes, he’s getting a pedicure while she gets her nails done. Leaning back in her chair with a face mask and cucumbers on her eyes, she’s never felt more relaxed in her life. And just in time too, her back was killing her from writing, her knuckles hurt and she just needed a break.

Spencer did too, he was genuinely not having a good time at work anymore, every case made him spiral and he always looked to Y/N on days like that. They met more than once a week now, she got $800 every Friday and she didn’t even really need it anymore. He was coving for so much of her bills and lively hood that her savings account was growing and growing because of him.

For the first time in her life she thought she would be okay if a man left her. As terrible as it was, as much as her moms tried to raise her differently, she fell down the daddy issues rabbit hole and she’s never going to find her way out— however, luckily for her, Spencer is down here too, and he brought a flashlight.

He understands her, more than anyone else on earth. He knows all her secrets, every crush and bad grade and snide remark she’s ever kept to herself. He didn’t judge her, he could actually listen to her issues and tell her why she had them. He gave better advice than a therapist and he was able to get information for her if he didn’t know the answer to what she was going through.

He’s absolutely everything to her and yet he’s 14 years older than her, he’s still traumatized beyond belief, he’s sad and ashamed and recovering… but he’s the best man in the whole world and she wishes he could see that. If he just looked at himself from her eyes, if he felt how she did in her soul when they were together, he’d love himself.

They’re too relaxed to drive home, and Spencer knew that would happen beforehand, bringing her a change of clothes (lingerie) and that robe me mentioned. He books a hotel above the spa and takes her to it. Arms linked as they enter the suite, she’s amazed to find more than one gift bag on the bed.

“How many gifts is this now?”

“We’re at 5 out of 24.”

She laughs as she wraps her arms around him in a thank you hug, “this is what you consider 4 gifts? Spencer there are like 8 things on the bed, let alone the massage and manicure?”

“If you think this is too much I guess you’re going to get really mad next week,” he teases as she looks up at him with a surprised look on her face.

“Spencer, I am so busy next week, I cannot be galavanting around with my sugar daddy,” she tries to act like she doesn’t want to go on an adventure with him again.

The last trip they took was the best week of her life. They went to all the historical sites in the UK that she and Spencer had talked about. Mainly old churches and castles, strange poets graves, random art and most importantly; stone henge. It was a trip of a lifetime and he took it with her.

“I watched the rest of Pretty Woman the other day,” he smiles, “and I thought I’d pull an Edward Lewis and really surprise you because you deserve it.”

“You know how the movie ends, right?” Her heart beats really fast in her chest and she wants him to love her so bad but it’s also terrifying now that she’s this close.

“He lets her choose,” he whispers.

“He rescues her,” she corrects him.

“And she rescues him right back,” he really did watch the end of the movie.

It makes her heart skip a beat as she swallows sharply, “what does this mean for us?”

“I have a whole plan, a whole sequence of events I want to stick to. I wanted to make you fall in love with me this week and ask you on your birthday, can we still do that?” He pleads with her, he’s so serious. He’s clearly put a lot of effort into this.

“Absolutely,” she smiles, “but if you’re going to make me wait that long for you to ask, you still can’t kiss me till then. No matter how much I already love you.”

“Really?” He’s so soft with her, she knows he’s not reacting to the teasing. He’s never had someone tell him they love him and then stay after.

“I would never lie to you about that, spence. I know what love means to you, I know how scared you are and I’m scared too. But I know there is no one else in the whole world I’d rather be scared with than you,” she holds him tighter and rubs her nose against his, “so what’s in the bags, daddy? Finish your surprise.”

She plays along perfectly, stepping back and hauling him towards the bed. “I got you some outfits and things for the next 2 weeks, we have a few things planned. We’re going on a flight soon, I have new luggage being delivered to your apartment this week and we’re going to see your moms for 3 days.”

“No,” she shakes her head, “there’s no way, Spencer, I haven’t seen them in 5 years, I’m going to cry.”

“I know,” he cups her jaw with his hand. “They’re really excited to see you.”

She hugs him tight, kissing his neck as she holds him. “Thank you, daddy, do you want me to put something on for you now?”

“I’m just going to take it off you, plus, what your wearing is sexy enough, he whispers back. “You’re always so beautiful, baby.”

“I thought you were saving the best for last?” She asks as she pulls back, overly eager and he can tell.

“I want to repay the favour from the other night.”

She doesn’t mean to gasp and yet she does, “please?”

He pulls on the tie of her robe, opening it enough to snake a hand behind her back and draw her in with a hand on her bare back. “Please what?”

“Please, daddy?” She looks up with her best begging eyes, perfect pout and all. “I want you to touch me, I promise I’ll be a good girl.”

He steps away from her to swipe all the bags off the bed before picking her up and laying her back against the pillows. He kisses down her body, hand on her lover back as she arches, he drags his bottom lip from her belly button to her cleavage. Nipping and sucking at the exposed skin on her chest, pulling her breasts out of the bra to suck on her nipples, she moans and it’s louder than she expected.

As she plays with his hair, he marks her, bruising small little love bites all the way down as he makes his way between her legs, “take me, please?”

He’s been dreaming of this for so long, he can’t even give you an accurate number of times his mind has drifted to the thought of how wonderful she would taste, how beautiful she’d sound…

“Tell me how badly you want me?” He asks as he spreads her legs and kisses her left thigh.

“I haven’t had sex in 10 months while waiting for you. Daddy, please you’ve owned me for so long, just take what’s yours already for gods sa- OH!”

With a broad lick, his tongue flattens against her core and it shuts her up. She gets what she wants, holding into his hair as she tosses her head back, taking it all in and enjoying it. He’s been on her mind for months, every time her vibrator was where he is now, she thought of him. he’s been the man of her dreams longer than she’s known him, and he was proving it.

“Right there, daddy,” she speaks through shallow breaths, “do you know how much I’ve thought of this?”

“You know I don’t,” the vibrations of his voice against her skin are glorious, he looks up at her through his lashes as his tongue flicks over her clit and she shakes a bit.

“Fuck,” she gasps, gripping his hair tighter, “better than I thought you’d be, fuck, too bad you— Jesus, don’t have the stash anymore…”

He stops and looks up at her, the smirk on his face glistening with her juices, “the stash?”

She nods, “I’ve thought about calling it the pussy tickler,” she teases, running her hand down his cheek and swiping her thumb across his bottom lip before bringing it up to her mouth to taste, “I want more of you.”

He kisses back up her body and she reaches for his robe the second he’s close enough. “Just grind against me? I know you’re waiting but we can still feel good together?”

He kisses the side of her mouth and she takes that as a yes, wrapping her legs around him so his hard cock is pressed right against her core as they move their hips in synchronicity with each other. His breathing is heavy as he kisses her cheek and jaw, her nails scratch down his back, he feels absolutely amazing against her.

She feels so empty, she wants him so bad she’s clenching around nothing as she squirms against his cock and wishes she was full.

“I wish I could move time,” she whispers. “Fuck, why can’t it be my birthday?”

He laughs against her, grazing his teeth over her neck and drawing another moan from her but then he stops moving his hips, “why are you so impatient?”

“Remember I said I stopped enjoying everything? Well, taking a 10 month break from sex and thinking about you every time I got off has made me desperate,” her hand cups his cheek, “I’d wait forever for you, but a girl needs to be fucked hard every once in a while.”

Only she could find a way to make something both profoundly beautiful and whorish at the same time, he loved her for it and she knew that now. He smiles and leaned in to rub his nose against hers and it takes everything in her not to kiss him. The same way it was taking everything in him not to slip into her as he began to grind against her once more.

She’s so close, the accidental edging has added a whole new level of desperation she’s never felt before. She wants to cum for him so bad, but more importantly she wants him to cum for her.

“Take my bra off,” she whispers, Spencer’s hands travel behind her back to unclasp it and he helps her out of it before tossing it to the floor.

“Cum for me daddy,” she whispers in his head with a hand in his hair, gripping him tightly as he bites at her neck, “cover me with your cum like you’re marking your territory.”

“Shit,” his hips sputter against hers.

“Say it, I know you want to,” she teases, so close to the edge but it’s too good of an opportunity. She loves seeing him fall apart like this and she can’t wait to see it again. “Who’s am I?”

“Daddy’s girl.”

He grinds down on her harder and faster and she’s so close, the bubble in her gut is reaching a fever pitch and with a gasp, she’s cumming and then she feels it. His load covers her stomach as he pants against her neck and grips her hips tighter as he comes down.

She wraps her arms around him and holds him as close as humanly possible, her breathing still heavy as he rises and falls on her chest. He’s heavy but she doesn’t care, she just kisses the top of his head and thanks him.

He brushes his nose against her neck, nuzzling her like a cat, “do you really mean it?”

“What, honey?” He remembers so much, this could be a question about something she said 2 months or 2 minutes ago and she has no clue.

“You’re not just playing along with my kinks right, you genuinely want to be mine?”

For being her million dollar man, his heart sure was broke. This is why he wasn’t ready, he still didn’t understand why she would want to stay without anything in return, he’s gotten so used to paying her for her time now that his anxiety has managed to convince him that she’ll leave when he stops being worth it to her.

“What does my necklace say?” She asks, knowing how close he was to it. “Read it to me, I forget.”

“Daddy’s girl,” he smiles again.

She soothes her hands over his back, “I would do anything with you because I love and trust you, but also because everything you do is sexy… you could read me the dictionary and I’d still want you to pump me full of cum after.”

“It sounds so crude after,” he laughs, “speaking of, we really need to have a shower.”

“I’ll wash your back if you wash mine?” She teases as he gets up.

“Only if you let me wash the front too?”

She smacks his bare ass and races him into the bathroom, turning on the water and getting in with him while still laughing and carrying on. He’s her best friend in the whole world, there’s no one else she would rather do this with… there was no one she has done this with. No one has made her feel this good, before during and after sex.

Spencer Reid was an anomaly, but he was hers.

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Sugar daddy fic (Some tags didn't work)

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[phoenixyfriend]

The Family Tree is... a Disaster

Takes place in the TCW Leverage AU. It does contain a few deviations, namely that the narrative ended up shifting Plo's role in Ahsoka's life, and Ventress's role overall.

This is mostly just dialogue where I outline the fuckery that is the disaster lineage family tree, not actual fic. It stemmed from my incessant need to justify "25yo Obi-Wan somehow got custody of 9yo Anakin without Shmi dying."

Warnings for: canon character death (modernized), canon violence (modernized), and references to Nazis and white supremacists (Palpatine collects WWII weaponry as a parallel to his canon display of Sith artifacts in his office as chancellor, and Ahsoka thinks it's sketchy)

----

"Okay," Cody says, setting down a glass of whiskey as he drops into the seat across the table. "What the hell is your family tree like?"

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, and continues cleaning off the definitely-not-stolen crystal komodo dragon he'd won in today's job. "I beg your pardon?"

"You and Skywalker," Cody says, gesturing between Obi-Wan, who is just sitting there minding his own business, and Anakin, who is across the closed-for-tonight bar and doing something inadvisable on the pool table. "You've said he was your brother, and mentioned raising him, which, sure, I'm over twenty years older than my youngest brother, people take over parenting roles all the time. But you have different last names, have mentioned stepfamilies that the other doesn't have, reference things as 'your aunt, not mine,' and I am just getting... very confused. I figured it was personal and I could leave well enough alone, but considering your older brother almost shot us today--"

"Okay, Xanatos is not my brother," Obi-Wan immediately says. "Just. I just have to stop you right there. Xanatos was a student of my father's for a time, but I promise he's not family. Nobody except maybe Komari would consider him even close, and she doesn't count since she's in prison for life and the farthest thing from stable."

Cody gestures. "That, Obi-Wan. That's what I'm talking about. I don't even know who Komari is."

Obi-Wan purses his lips in a failed attempt to not smile. "Do you actually want the explanation? It's long and unnecessarily complicated."

"So's mine," Cody snorts. Obi-Wan waits, patient and pleasant, and is rewarded when Cody sighs. "Please."

"Of course, my dear. To answer your first question, though, Anakin is my half-brother." With a smile, Obi-Wan digs a piece of paper and a pen from his briefcase. "So, center of the chain: me, my father Qui-Gon, my grandfather Yan, and my great-grandfather Yoda. With me so far?"

"Easy enough. Do you have to go back that far?"

"Great-grandfather Yoda is still alive and regularly escaping the old folks' home to terrorize younger relatives, so yes," Obi-Wan says. "Given that you may just meet a tiny, meddling relative of mine when he's bored, we do in fact have to go back that far."

"...how old is he?"

"We don't know for sure. A hundred and eight-ish is the best guess." Obi-Wan shrugs. "It's not a huge deal, mostly he likes bothering Anakin these days. Anyway, grandfather. Yan Dooku. Inherited a minory duchy from his maternal grandfather decades back. Mostly hangs around there because he's on terrorist watchlists in the States."

"Oh, lovely."

Obi-Wan grins. "Trust me, it gets worse. Anyway, grandfather never actually married, but spent most of his time with his 'best friend' Sifo Dyas, who died about a decade back."

"Gay?"

"Well, we know that now, but they got together in the seventies, and this was back when they were both working government jobs, so, you know. It happens."

"Good to know," Cody says. "So, Yoda's kid is Yan, who inherited a title and land from a maternal relative, and had a life partner but never married. With you so far."

"All of Yan's kids were adopted," Obi-Wan continues, sketching out the first branch away from the Yan/Sifo partnership. "Rael was actually grandfather's cousin, maternally, and ended up in his custody after getting orphaned at five. These days, he does most of the stewardship duties at the Serenno Duchy. His daughter Nim is teaching military history at a university in Germany."

Cody nods. "Uncle number one is named Rael, technically your dad's cousin, has a daughter. Got it."

"About a decade after Rael, they adopted my father, Qui-Gon. He and grandfather fought, frequently, but they did care for each other. My father was a botanist, did bio-engineering. We'll get back to him later, because he's where things get complicated." Obi-Wan made sure to leave room around the name. "Just a few years older than me was--is--Komari Vosa. She is... serving a life sentence. I think she fought Jango once."

"She fought my father?"

"To the best of my knowledge, they both almost died, yes," Obi-Wan says. "She's in maximum security these days. She was an assassin. I'll get a call if she breaks out, and I'll let you know along with everyone else."

"Bad news auntie, got it."

"Last adoption, sort of, is Ventress," Obi-Wan finishes off. "A few years younger than me, is technically grandfather's personal assistant and does secretarial work and the like, but we all know he's planning to leave as much of the inheritance to her as he is to the rest of us. She's aggressive and unpleasant, but she takes care of him and hasn't actually threatened to kill any of us yet, so that's fine."

"How'd she join?" Cody asks.

"Ky Narec was a friend of Qui-Gon's; Ventress was his daughter. Ky died a few years after Qui-Gon did, and Ventress was a mess, after." Obi-Wan shrugs and scratches that connection into the little sketch of a family tree as well. "Grandfather offered her a job until she got herself back together, and then she just kind of... stuck around."

"Youngest aunt, more of a cousin." Cody summarizes. "Now we go back to your father?"

"Qui-Gon Jinn was a man of many skills," Obi-Wan says drily. "Adequate birth control was not one of them."

It's almost a pity that Cody wasn't drinking anything, because going by the way he chokes, Obi-Wan's pretty sure the spit take would have been spectacular.

"I'm sorry," Cody says. "Can you repeat that?"

"I was an accident," Obi-Wan says, not even bothering to hide his smile. "So was Anakin."

"So that sounds like... a story."

"It is," Obi-Wan confirms. "My biological mother has never been in the picture. They had a fling, she wasn't sure if she'd want to abort or give me up, just that she wasn't ready to be a parent, and Qui-Gon volunteered to take full custody so she could go back to her life after the birth. I've never met her, but I kept her family name. You can consider her irrelevant beyond that."

Cody nods.

"So, when I was about a year old, Qui-Gon reconnects with an old flame, they get married two years later. Step-mother number one is Tahl. Lovely woman, I absolutely adored her, and she had a daughter, my stepsister, Bant Eerin."

"I met her, right?" Cody asks.

"Yes, she was the doctor who patched up my bullet wound a few months ago," Obi-Wan says. "With the giant glasses that make her look a little fish-eyed."

"She was nice."

"She is," Obi-Wan agrees. "At any rate, that was our family for a while, and then Tahl died when I was fourteen. Bant wanted to go to a magnet school for medical studies, and Qui-Gon's grief was... not optimal for taking care of multiple teenagers, shall we say, so Bant moved in with her paternal uncle, Kit Fisto, and Kit's son Nahdar. He's a marine biologist, incredibly friendly, and has no idea of any of the rest of my side of the family's questionable activities. If you ever meet him, you will pretend that we are a legal firm with a team of security consultants."

Cody raises a brow. Obi-Wan despairs. "Best you could do?"

"We're not that likely to run into him." Obi-Wan draws out a new line. "So, Qui-Gon deals poorly with grief. This is also around the time that Xanatos came around to ruin our lives a little. He was a very rich and unpleasant man, but he's dead as of four hours ago, so you don't have to worry about him. Or his son."

"His son?"

"Anakin handled that," Obi-Wan says. "Thoroughly. Granta Omega is no longer an issue. He's not dead, but... well. Anakin has his ways. Er--I should probably mention Feemor; he was my father's assistant at the university for a long time. Anakin and I still call him our uncle."

"Also a person to avoid mentioning criminal activity to?" Cody prompts.

"Well... no, but only because I don't think he'd care. The man is, forgive me, more of a 'walking sweatervest' than I am. He's a very bland and unassuming man. He once described himself as the background character of the soap opera that is my family's existence."

"Sounds like a charmer."

"Oh, he's very kind and clever, and witty as well. I adore him, and he really is family. He's just also very, very normal. Not boring, but..." Obi-Wan trails off and shrugs helplessly. "He's an editor for an agricultural research journal. Also not someone I anticipate us running into."

"Noted."

"Right, so, Qui-Gon dealing poorly with his grief didn't involve much drinking, but there were a few months of him trying to... lose himself in the pleasures of the flesh?" Obi-Wan tries, and then deflates at the look on Cody's face. "He was slagging around. Shmi got pregnant with Anakin, who was born when I was sixteen. Shared custody at first, Qui-Gon got him weekends and every other holiday, that sort of thing, and then they got married because they actually did like each other well enough, and it was easier on the taxes."

"So Shmi is stepmother number two."

"Shmi is stepmother number two, yes." Obi-Wan sketches in Anakin and Shmi. "About nine and a half years after Anakin was born, Shmi and Qui-Gon were in a car accident with... well, it later turned out it wasn't an accident, there was a hitman called Maul involved, he's actually Ventress's second cousin or something, I don't know. Grandfather handled most of that problem. Qui-Gon died, Shmi was in intensive care, and I got custody of Anakin as his nearest adult relative. We weren't very close before that, because I was off at university by the time he was old enough to form memories, but that changed once he started living with me. I more or less raised him as a single parent from that point."

"This is why he jokes that you're like a father to him."

"Precisely," Obi-Wan says. "Shmi took about a year to recover enough to move again, and grandfather covered the costs. She still had to live with a dedicated carer and attend daily physical therapy. At that physical therapy, she met Cliegg Lars, whose son Owen was also a patient there. They hit it off, and three years later, they married. When Anakin refers to his stepfamily he's talking about the Lars out in Nevada."

"Nevada?"

"They have a farm. A very, very normal one. We don't drag them into our activities, unless we have an at-risk person who needs a safe house." Obi-Wan pauses, and then decides this really needs to be stressed. "This is important to me and Anakin, that we don't get them involved unless there's absolutely no other choice. Shmi's been through a lot, and the Lars are busy enough running the farm."

"Works for me," Cody says. "We've got enough safe houses that it shouldn't be an issue. I'm guessing this story doesn't end there, though."

Obi-Wan grimaces. "My own love life has been... a bit of a mess."

"I already know about Kryze, at least."

There's that. "I was temporarily engaged to a friend, Siri Tachi, shortly after high school. We were in a relationship, but this was mostly something done to appease a relative of hers that was getting overbearing to the point of absurdity, and she couldn't just cut them off. We broke off the engagement after the relative passed, and we're still friends."

He notes that down, then adds the other embarrassment of his early years. "First marriage was actually a drunken joke between myself and my best friend when we were in college. We got it annulled a few months later because we just didn't have time to drop by the courthouse before then, and he's actually engaged to Asajj now."

"Asajj?" Cody asks, watching in fascination as Obi-Wan tries to mark in both his own short marriage and the newer, long-term engagement without crossing any lines. He settles for just writing the name twice and including an asterisk with 'this is the same person.'

"Ventress," Obi-Wan clarifies. "Yeah, Quinlan's a fun guy. His little sister, Aayla, treats Anakin like a beloved younger cousin."

"Are they also off-limits for criminal activity?"

"No, Aayla's the one that taught Ahsoka how to vent-crawl," Obi-Wan says. "And I'm pretty sure Quinlan has contacts in every major government branch, criminal organization, and Fortune 500 company on the planet. I reach out to them regularly."

"Resources, then."

Obi-Wan nods. "Some time later, I married Satine. We had a son; you've met Korkie. We split due to incompatibility a year and change before Qui-Gon's death. Satine doesn't engage in criminal activity, but Bo-Katan is..."

"I've met Bo-Katan. I know what she's like, Obi. You don't have to explain."

"She works with Maul sometimes."

"...the man who killed your father?"

"Yes. It's all very stupid and convoluted." Obi-Wan still writes her in. "So, that's them. Korkie goes to boarding school, and I try not to involve him in anything. Anakin and Ahsoka like to teach him self-defense and the like, but Satine is adamant that he stay unaware of my less legal dealings until he's an adult."

Cody shrugs. "Makes sense. Is that every--wait, no, Skywalker's married."

Obi-Wan grins. "Yes, and Padme's got twins on the way."

"I was there when he told us," Cody says drily. "He was very loud about it. Okay, how does Ahsoka fit in?"

"Hold on, I forgot Beru," Obi-Wan mutters. "Owen's fiancee. Same rules as the Lars. Okay, you asked about Ahsoka. Right. So. Um."

He dithers. Cody waits for him, and then Obi-Wan just gives up. "Ahsoka, dear, would you like to explain how you joined the family, so to speak?"

Ahsoka looks up from whatever she and the boys are doing--there are multiple beer glasses and straws and duct tape involved, and Obi-Wan doesn't really want to know--and then flips off the table and over to Obi-Wan and Cody. She looks over the family tree chart, and then says, "Oooh, did you tell him about the cult?"

"You were in a cult?" Cody demands.

"No, Komari was. She was head priestess or something. I dunno, it's why she's in prison and stuff."

"I did not tell him about the cult," Obi-Wan mutters, already regretting this. "The Bando Gora aren't a problem anymore. I've already gotten to explaining how you and Anakin know each other."

Ahsoka rolls her eyes, steals his pen, and starts sketching in around Quinlan's name, over by Asajj since Obi-Wan's section is too crowded. "Okay, so, Quinlan's adopted. His dad is Tholme, and Tholme's dad is Plo Koon. Plo Koon is good friends with my Auntie, Shaak Ti, who raised me. They live next door to each other, out in the country, and I'd play in his yard a lot, because he had puppies, and he took me to visit his bees. Whenever Auntie needed a babysitter, she asked Quinlan or Aayla to do it since she knew and trusted them, and Aayla needed pocket money."

"This is so unnecessarily complicated," Cody mutters.

"It is!" Ahsoka chirps. Her grin is far too sharp. "So, this one time, Aayla was watching me when I was fourteen, and she was just helping me with my physics homework. BAM, the door slams open, and in stumbled Skyguy with his arm missing. I've never met him before, and my first introduction is him shortly after he's gotten an unplanned amputation."

Anakin, on the other side of the room, giggles. Obi-Wan just sighs. The Fett brothers appear to be in the land of 'horrified fascination.'

Ahsoka revels in it. "There's blood everywhere, I'm screaming, Aayla's panicking, Anakin's halfway to unconscious and insisting we can't call the hospital, and nobody can get Obi-Wan on the phone. Quinlan's in another country, and Auntie Shaak and Uncle Plo are at a movie, so they've both got their cellphones off. Tholme was faking his death at that point to get away from an incident with the Irish Mob, so we didn't even try him."

"What the actual fuck," Rex breathes.

Ahsoka continues with relish. "We get Bant to pick up, and she's there an hour later with Padme, because Padme knows how to drive the way Skyguy does, and the entire drive there is just Auntie Bant on speakerphone telling Aayla how to stop the bleeding and get him stabilized while Padme's screaming at traffic at the top of her lungs."

"I owe Aayla a fruit basket," Anakin muses aloud. "The anniversary of her saving my life is coming up, it's warranted."

"Five years, baby!" Ahsoka crows. She fist-pumps.

Obi-Wan just drops his head into his hands. "You're killing me, children."

Anakin shrugs, grinning. "You know, I think Fett Senior might have been involved in that fight."

"My shitty dad cut off your arm?" Rex demands.

"No, I think he was busy fighting the Interpol guy," Anakin says. "But he was definitely there. I think. Blood loss kinda got to me after a bit, but I'm pretty sure Jango Fett was there, and also Boba might've been hiding in the getaway car?"

"I need another glass," Cody mutters. He doesn't stand up, though.

"Wait," Rex says. "So who cut off your arm?"

Anakin shrugs with an unsure noise. "Someone tried to convince me it was Grandpa Yan, but he was in the middle of a court case in Italy for some kind of parole violation when it happened, so he had an alibi."

"...did he actually violate parole?" Cody asks, and Obi-Wan thinks he looks like he doesn't know if he actually wants an answer.

Ahsoka shrugs. So does Anakin. Obi-Wan carefully looks at a spot behind Cody, and doesn't explain anything about wine tastings used as covers for illicit arms deals.

"The arm?" Rex prompts, sounding a little desperate to get back to the question he likely thinks is the most important.

"I still say it was Skeevy Sheev," Ahsoka chimes in.

"It wasn't Palpatine," Anakin snaps.

"Your creepy older friend who took you to operas and gives you fancy gifts and knows way too much about swords who was conveniently there to talk to the police and cover for you so you didn't get arrested for getting in the middle of a gang war in the first place, yes," Ahsoka says, dropping into a chair and sighing dramatically. "The guy who definitely hasn't been trying to convince you for a year and change that your wife is cheating on you with your older brother."

"Ahsoka!"

"What? He is."

"Anakin," Rex says, "your life sounds like a trainwreck."

"I'm not going to assume a frail, elderly man cut my arm off!" Anakin protests. "Even if he wanted to, he doesn't exactly have the muscle for it!"

"Grandfather's older," Obi-Wan points out, even though he knows it won't help. "And he definitely still could."

"Ha!" Ahsoka shouts.

"He could have hired someone?" Cody suggests. "Doesn't need to do it himself, if he has enough money."

Obi-Wan has a sneaking suspicion that Cody is deliberately stirring the pot as revenge for Anakin sending him eighty-seven cat memes inside an hour during last night's dinner.

"You all suck," Anakin declares. "Also, what the hell do you mean 'knows way too much about swords,' Ahsoka? You know way too much about swords!"

"Yeah, but I'm like ninety-percent sure that his antiques are Prussian and mid-century German military officer dress uniform relics, and pairing that with the Nazi pistols he's got on display--"

"He's just a history buff! And his family's German, of course he prioritizes that region, it's not like he doesn't have Russian or French or English antiques in there too, it's all sides of the war and--"

"I'm just saying he's almost definitely sending me sketchy glances like he thinks I'm planning to steal the silver on the three occasions you've had me with you when you stop by, and I'm pretty sure it's got less to do with my criminal record and more to do with me being, you know, not white."

Anakin looks ready to blow, so Obi-Wan interrupts. "Ahsoka, you were explaining how Anakin passing out on Aayla and scaring us all half to death led to your friendship?"

Ahsoka blinks at him, and then sticks her tongue out at Anakin and turns back to the chart. "So basically, Skyguy had to recuperate in Uncle Plo's living room for a week or two, and I kept showing up to bother him because he was bored and nobody would give him a laptop for 'security reasons,' because he had to lay low and stuff. He made me help him sketch out designs for a prosthesis and do all the writing for the math he had to do for the 3D printer, and we got to chatting."

Ahsoka hops up and back onto a table, legs swinging below her. "I decided he was cool and started following him around while he was getting used to only having one hand, mostly because I was bored. He showed me how to hotwire a car, and explained the best places to put a bug if you were looking to make it sneaky, and he picked my pocket to show off so many times when he was walking around Uncle Plo's house that I made him teach me that, too. And, uh, then Aayla found out and they got into a shouting match about it and decided they both needed to teach me parkour so I could get out of any mess I got myself into, since I was obviously going to follow them into a life of crime."

"And you did," Anakin says, far too proudly. "You're the best thief in this half of the country."

"Only because Aayla moved out east."

Anakin rolls his eyes and pulls Ahsoka into his side, digging his knuckles into her skull. "Best thief! You are the best thief! Be proud of yourself!"

"Let go!"

"Never!"

Obi-Wan sighed heavily and rubbed at his forehead. "Children, please."

"You're not my dad," Ahsoka growls out at him. "Skyguy, I'm going to bite you!"

"Good luck, the only arm you can access is the one that's going to break your teeth."

Ahsoka shrieks in outrage and stomps on Anakin's instep.

It's almost funny, for all that Obi-Wan's seen it play out a million times before, but the really interesting part is seeing Rex's look of fond dismay.

Obi-Wan thinks he might be adding a branch out to the Fetts soon. He's not actually sure if Rex is interested in Anakin or Ahsoka, and he's smack dab between them in age, so that's not a help either, but... well. The expression is familiar enough.

"Please tell me you don't match-make," Cody mutters to him.

"No, I plan to let the pieces fall where they will," Obi-Wan responds, just as low, and far more amused. "I'm simply trying to predict where those landings are to be."

Cody looks at him, and then back at the roughhousing trio, and sighs heavily. "You know, I really didn't think that you technically being minor royalty was going to be the least convoluted thing in your story, Obi-Wan."

He laughs, because it's true. "I'm first in line to inherit the title, since Rael denounced his claim. Nim isn't interested, and Qui-Gon's dead, so... I'm next."

Cody makes a face. "Delightful. I'm guessing that's not a connection we can safely make use of."

"No more than the Kryze or Naberries, I'm afraid." Obi-Wan claps him on the shoulder. "Chin up, I've plenty others in the metaphorical rolodex, all far less legitimate and far more amenable to work with our little outfit."

"Rolodex, really?" Cody snorts. "You're not that old."

Obi-Wan smiles winningly. "You don't know how old I am, Cody. All my IDs are fake."

"Anakin's twenty-four, and you're sixteen years older than him, going by the story you just told me," Cody points out. "I do know how to do basic math, Obi-Wan."

"I had to try," Obi-Wan admits. "I threw a lot of information at you all at once; I'd hoped you missed some of the ages in there."

"I have eight brothers," Cody scoffs. "And literally dozens of cousins, plus niblings, uncles, aunts, and so on. I have experience on this."

"If I asked you to list of the age of every single relative you have, you'd be able to do it?"

"Do you want me to draw a chart? I can draw a chart."

Obi-Wan can't help but laugh. "I'd be delighted, my dear."

Cody rolls his eyes, but Obi-Wan thinks--it's hard to tell in the dimmed lights of the closed bar--that there's a hint of a blush on the man's face. Obi-Wan lets himself slouch to the side, drops his head to rest on one fist, indolent debauchery in every line of his body. Cody does his best to ignore him, but Obi-Wan knows how to smile lazily and blink slowly and draw a man in.

(The whole 'indolent debauchery in every line of his body' phrasing is Anakin's, from back when he was a teenager trying to read highbrow literature to impress a cute girl... and to come up with new insults for his older brother.)

"So," Cody says, with a cough meant to somehow distract Obi-Wan from whatever's showing on the man's face. "Why, uh, why is your grandfather on terrorist watchlists?"

"Well, he didn't initially do anything," Obi-Wan says. "He was just a gay man who didn't hide it quite well enough, and had too much money and too white a face for someone to just call the cops on a faulty report. The Red Scare was technically over by that point, I think, but if a few people made suggestions that he was more loyal to the country that gave him a noble title than to the United States... he received a few warnings, of course, and it could have all blown over..."

"But?"

"But my grandfather is not a man to do things by halves, and instead decided that if the government was to list him as a threat, then he would oblige and make himself a threat," Obi-Wan finishes. "Living up to their labels, rolling with the assumptions, whatever you'd like to call it. It all irked him, and so he made some incredibly questionable decisions to make the government's lives harder. Some weren't bad, like donating to anti-war foundations that were protesting the Gulf War and the interventions in Yugoslavia, that sort of thing, and some were... nobody really looks well on gunrunning, you know."

"For fuck's sake..."

"Indeed," Obi-Wan chuckles. "Ironically, he has minimal opinion on the optimal form of economics, for all that virulent xenophobia and the remnants of anti-communism were involved in the whole mess. He just wanted to create problems for the people that were causing him problems."

Cody shakes his head. "I want to judge that, but you've met my father."

"Jango Fett is, indeed, also not a man to do things by halves," Obi-Wan agrees, attempting to nod gravely but breaking into a smile at the end. "That man is absurd."

"At least he's not dragging Boba into it anymore," Cody mutters. He drags over the fresh sheet of paper and pen that Obi-Wan offers him. "Okay, right, let's start with Jaster..."