#he would kiss him again and again

[mayor-thaniyel]

would you kiss the blackrock’s finest and gorgeous king

!!! Uhm- Ah- Heha- What...? I- ... I'm not saying anything....

[egophiliac]

still ruminating over Lost In the Book With Spooky Skeletons Part 1, so here's a selection of some of my favorite little bits! (...some more loosely paraphrased than others) (I just feel like Idia has no room to criticize in general, okay)

anyway, I'm sure we're just going to have a fun time celebrating Halloween and nothing bad is going to happen whatsoever! :)

[luscinoea]

rock collab sakura ⭐️

[almondpiglet]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAREST REIGEN!!

everyone thanks you for entering their lives :')

[susiewithdauzi]

hey so. do u remember that blurrbee angst i mentioned this one time. bc i sure do

[lightgamble]

DAREDEVIL: BORN AGAIN | 1.09

You know, back at his place, I heard your heartbeats.

[tennessoui]

14 for obikin pretty please?

here you go!

[from this list of prompts]

[5. 'are you jealous' - 27. 'i'm pregnant' - 32. 'i think i'm in love with you and i'm terrified' (LATEST) 44. 'if you die, i'm gonna kill you' - 41. 'you did all of this for me?' - 46. 'hey, have you seen...? oh']

14. 'hey, i'm with you, okay? always.'

The first time Anakin visits, he's so angry that he cannot speak for the first two hours. Obi-Wan sits against the wall of his cell, on the floor even though the Jedi have provided him a perfectly comfortable bed and chair. The Force collar around his neck looks wrong. His master sitting on the floor, dressed in the dull orange of a prisoner's jumpsuit looks wrong.

Anakin is so angry that he can't speak. He can only look and tremble until he is told he must leave.

Obi-Wan does not speak either. He does not even look at him.

Maybe that's what makes his anger harder to bear. Anakin knows that Obi-Wan has met with countless other Jedi. Visitors, friends, allies, people who are working with him on his defense case. He knows that the other man talks to them, has sliced into security holo footage to see it for himself, though no one will tell him what is said. Everyone always leaves looking frustrated, but at least Obi-Wan talks to them.

But not Anakin. Even though it is Anakin that Obi-Wan has hurt the most. Anakin, who deserves to know why from Obi-Wan's mouth.

After all--

"He was like a father to me," Anakin spits at him on his second visit, only a few days later. Going to see Obi-Wan in the Coruscanti prison cell where he is awaiting trial is like an itch. Scratched once, Anakin finds he cannot help himself from digging his claws in.

Obi-Wan is still against the wall. His beard has grown slightly longer. His head is tilted back against the wall, though when Anakin speaks, his eyes slide down from the ceiling to rest on him.

"I'm starting to think you say that to all the boys," his former master who is a murderer says in that lilting familiar drawl.

"You killed him."

"Yes," Obi-Wan agrees, because apparently part of his defense case is not to plead not guilty to the murder of the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. Anakin would say that may be problematic, but then--there are security holos, soundless and slightly blurred, of the event. Of Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi taking tea with Chancellor Palpatine. Talking in civil gestures for thirty minutes. Requesting, as far as anyone can tell, for the Chancellor to fetch him a pot of sugar. Lighting his saber and beheading him the moment the old man's back was turned. "Yes, I did."

"Why?" Anakin yells, voice cracking on the word. He doesn't understand. He thinks the not-knowing will drive him to madness. He thinks maybe it already has. It has been two weeks since the Chancellor's murder. Half the Senate is seeking Obi-Wan's execution.

The war, theoretically, has paused, like even the Separatists are holding their breath. Waiting. Wondering.

Obi-Wan looks at him quietly for a moment. For five. His face is stoic, resolved. Beloved, even after this.

Then--for a singular second--the mask cracks, and his master stares at him as if he needs to see him in order to survive. He looks hungry and exhausted and relieved, down to the bones.

"How have your nightmares been lately, padawan?" he asks him, and Anakin is so disgusted by the word--by the title that Obi-Wan doesn't get to say after killing the Chancellor, killing Anakin's friend--that he turns and leaves without another thought.

He is back a day later. He has never known how to keep his distance from things that can hurt him, that's what his mother always said. Too curious by half. Too sure of his own invincibility. That's what his master always said.

Anakin isn't sure of anything anymore.

"Why did you kill him?" Anakin asks. Obi-Wan's beard is longer. He is still on the floor. It rankles, the sight of him brought so low. "Did someone tell you to?"

Obi-Wan lets his head fall forward, a puppet with its strings cut. "Do you think me so biddable, Anakin?"

Anakin today. Not padawan. As if Obi-Wan has learned his lesson. As if he is as desperate for Anakin to linger in his presence as Anakin is hopelessly addicted to returning.

Padmé had tried to stop him this morning. Had tried to tell him it would do no good to see him, that the justice system would do its work, that Anakin was only hurting himself by returning over and over again. She pointed out that he had nightmares last night, for the first time since the news of the Chancellor's death reached them.

He hadn't had the heart to tell her that his nightmares were not about the Chancellor dying, but about Obi-Wan facing down an execution squad. About Anakin, standing on the deck of the Invisible Hand, Palpatine's voice in his ear, telling him to do it, do it. Cut off the traitor's head, only to look down and find that the two sabers he is holding are familiar to him, and person on his knees before him is his master.

Anakin had woken with a yell around one in the morning, sweat soaked and shaking. He hadn't been able to sleep again.

Maybe that's why he feels so alive now, slightly manic and still trembling as he paces in front of the Force barrier of Obi-Wan's cell. Did someone tell Obi-Wan to cut him down? he'd had the thought somewhere around five in the morning. Had it been someone Obi-Wan trusted? Someone he loved?

Who stood to gain from the death of the Chancellor? Who had the Chancellor ever hurt or threatened?

Anakin walks as close as he dares to get to the cell. "Master," he says, coaxes really, pushing forward until he can hear the hum of the force field.

Obi-Wan's head thumps back against the wall and he watches him from under his eyelashes.

"Master, I'm with you, alright? Hey, I'm with you, always, alright, always, so if someone told you, manipulated you, just tell me please. I'll find them. I'll get them to turn themselves in, master. Just tell me. Why did you kill him?"

Obi-Wan closes his eyes. He looks for all the world as if he is meditating, save for that collar around his neck. The prison garb. He doesn't look like a murderer, but he is. He is. He killed the Chancellor. He is going to face execution. Anakin is going to have to watch him die too and all he can think is that he knows that Obi-Wan doesn't even kriffing like sugar in his karking tea.

"Answer me!" Anakin yells, lifting his fist and forgetting himself for just long enough that he slams it against the barrier. He pulls it back with a curse as the force field short-circuits his mech arm and the prison alarm blares out a warning siren.

This time, he is led away from the cell by a Coruscanti guard. He is advised to not return for a standard week. The entire time he is exiled from the prison, the only thing he can think about is the expression on Obi-Wan's face as he watches him leave: eyes wide open and forehead wrinkled with concern, as if worried that Anakin had hurt himself.

The day after he is allowed to return, he does. He does not want to seem too eager or desperate, so he waits until it's early in the evening before pointing his speeder towards the prison unit.

"It had to have been someone you loved," Anakin announces as he stops in front of Obi-Wan's cell. He's in his bed this time, lying on his back and looking at the ceiling. He does not twitch at Anakin's voice, though Anakin can tell that he's not asleep, though his eyes are closed. He can tell just from the minute lines of tension he's holding in his shoulders, his neck.

How can Anakin know him so well and not know that he is capable of this? Of murder on this scale?

"Hm?" Obi-Wan finally says, when the silence drags on and it becomes clear that Anakin will not say more until he has engaged. Anakin watches this war play out in the subtle movements of Obi-Wan's facial muscles as well. He knows him so well. He knows him better than he knows anyone else in the galaxy.

"The person you killed him for. You had to have loved him more than anything else in the entire galaxy to kill a man the way you did. Defenseless. Over sugar. You don't--you don't even take sugar in your tea! It was a coward's way of killing--and it doesn't--you would never. Not unless it was for someone you loved."

Obi-Wan's eyes blink open, but he doesn't look away from the ceiling. He doesn't look at Anakin.

"I don't--I don't know what harm you think Sheev Palpatine could cause to anyone, but that has to be it. Nothing else makes sense. You loved someone enough to kill for them, and you killed the Chancellor."

The words come out easily. Anakin has practiced them for a week now; it is the only thing that makes sense. Nothing else makes sense. Nothing else but love could make a man like Obi-Wan do what he did. He must have loved someone a lot. He must love them more than the Republic. More than his own freedom.

The first time Anakin had told Padmé his theory, she'd looked at him for ages, until he'd grown angry and defensive. She'd touched his arm, as if that could hold back this hurricane brewing inside his chest, and said, "I don't know if you're right, Ani. I don't know if I think you're wrong either. It's just...you sound so...jealous."

At least Obi-Wan doesn't say the same thing. But what he does say may be even worse. Because he doesn't deny it. He doesn't protest. All he says is, "And who is it that you think I love more than anything else in the galaxy, padawan?"

Anakin has thought about this, too. "Bail Organa," he makes himself say, even though the name curls his lips up into a sneer. Bail Organa, the man who has been voted the interim Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. The man who has gotten everything from this assassination, while Anakin has had his everything taken away.

On his cot, Obi-Wan's eyes slide closed. His mouth quirks up. "Ah," he says, as if he has had something he has long expected to confirmed to him. He says nothing else.

It makes Anakin want to hit the barrier again. It makes him want to scream. It makes him want to be petty, hurt Obi-Wan back in the same way that Anakin feels hurt even though it doesn't make sense, none of this makes sense. But it feels as if Obi-Wan has kept half of himself secret from Anakin, a whole love, his entire capacity to love, and Anakin wants to prove that he has as well.

So he says, voice mean and sharp, "Padmé is pregnant. The med-droid says it is twins."

Everything else remains unspoken, but surely audible. That they are his. That he never stopped seeing Padmé. Perhaps even that she is his wife.

On the cot, behind the Force barrier, in his chains, Obi-Wan opens his eyes and blinks at the ceiling. His lips form a small smile, as he says, still not looking at Anakin, still not looking at Anakin, "I know, dear one. Why do you think the Chancellor had to die?"

[skywerse]

[jadewritesficshere]

Grey

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Synopsis: Steve gets a wake up call from yall's daughter

Contents: talks of aging, kids being kids, references to smut but nothing explicit

Steve groans as his consciousness comes to. Something is hitting his face. Someone. Repeatedly.

Steve squints his bleary eyes open as a hand smacks him in the jaw again. A small smile appears on his face even though his jaw stings from the impact. "Morning," Steve's voice is still thick with sleep as he turns to look into brown eyes barely peeking over the edge of the bed.

A quiet voice repeats back ,"Morning," to Steve before arms reach up over the edge of the bed to try and grasp something. Small hands grab the blanket and tug it off of him slightly as the child attempts to climb up. At two and half, Amelia Joy Harrington can barely see above the edge of her parents' bed, let alone get on it.

Steve hoists Amelia up and sits her on his stomach. Steve winces as Amelia scrambles, a stray foot hitting his thigh precariously close to his crotch. Arms are thrown around his neck in a hug as Amelia lays her head against her dad's chest.

Steve feels like his heart could burst out of his chest from the joy he is feeling. A hug from his baby? The best way to wake up in the morning. Who cares if his jaw is still stinging and probably red, his little girl loves him.

Steve sighs in contentment. Steve holds his daughter close until she starts to fidget and wiggle. Amelia sits up and throws her hands in the air. "Happy Birthday!" She whispers excitedly, except she has no concept of how quiet a whisper should actually be and says it in a much too loud voice.

"What?" Steve asks, hand hovering near Amelia's side in case she slips. Amelia's eyebrows furrow as she pouts at him, a look that is an exact copy of you. Her arms slowly lower as she stares at Steve. "Happy Birthday. You old." Amelia pouts at him.

Steve blinks at Amelia in confusion but nods his head. First off, rude, he isn't that old. Steve isn't sure where she gets her unfiltered, blunt commentary (it absolutely isn't him). Second, it absolutely isn't his birthday. Not even close.

"Why uh...why is it my birthday?" Steve asks, unsure if Amelia fully understands the concept. Not sure if he can explain the idea of a birthday to a two (and a half) year old. "Grey." Amelia declares giving Steve whiplash. Before Steve can speak, Amelia points at the comforter," Blue." Steve smiles," Yes, blue."

Amelia points to her shirt," Green." Steve nods. Amelia taps under Steve's eye, lashes brushing against her finger causing him to close it. Steve hopes she doesn't attempt to actually poke his eye.

"Brown." Amelia declares. "Thats right." Steve grins, his girl is so smart. Amelia points to his temple," Grey." "That's ri- what?! No!" Steve's mouth drops open as Amelia giggles. "Uncle Dustbin says grey is old. Birthday makes old. Happy Birthday!"

The creak of the loose floorboard in the hall notifies Steve of your approach. You peek into the doorway of the room, seeing your two favorite people. One looking aghast and the other giggling at her father's reaction.

"What's going on in here?" You ask, leaning against the doorway. "Grey. Birthday." Amelia announces, like it explains everything. And it does in her little mind.

You hum in response, looking at your husband who seems lost for words. Amelia slides off of Steve and off the bed, Steve guiding her so her feet land on the ground absent-mindedly. He would never let her fall or get hurt. Or you.

Amelia half walks half dances in your direction. A prance in her step, she stops in front of you and grabs your hands. "It's daddy's birthday," She says before headbutting your leg. You chuckle and pat her head as she dances out of the room, in her own little world.

"You lying to my kid again?" You ask once Amelia is gone. Steve sputters as he sits up," I did not- our kid- did not lie." "Uh-huh, sure," you say sarcastically. Steve rolls his eyes at you as he gets up out of bed.

Steve stretches as he rocks on his feet, back cracking, before strolling over to you. "Good morning," Steve mumbles, hand landing on your hip. You hum back as he leans in and kisses you. Soft. Slow. Sweet. Leaving you longing for more as he pulls back.

"Love you," Steve says, fingers running along the waistband of your pants. "I love you too," you want to melt into him. Curl up in his arms and stay in this moment. Let the love and adoration fill the air around you.

"Do I look old?" Steve is the first to break the silence. Your brow furrows in confusion," huh?" "Amelia she," Steve huffs out a laugh," said I have grey hair." You chuckle as you bring a hand up, fingers threading through his hair," You have some but its nice." "Its nice huh?" "Makes you look distinguished. Handsome." You bite your lip and look up at him.

Steve knows that look. Knows it well. It's the look you gave him the first time you moved past just making out. The same look you gave him on your first anniversary. The same look you wore on your wedding night. The same look you gave before Amelia was conceived.

Steve can't help the smirk that spreads across his face. If getting old gives him that look, well, he won't complain.

"What about me?" You ask, batting your lashes. "Beautiful," Steve kisses your cheek," Gorgeous," he kisses the corner of your lips. He continues to alternate between kissing all over your face and praising you.

"My love," Steve whispers before kissing you softly on the lips. You sigh into the kiss, one hand tangling in his hair, the other trying to pull him closer.

A loud crash from the living room has you two pulling back from the sweet moment you stole. "What was that?" You call down the hall. "Nothing!" Amelia yells back, making you sigh but smile. Steve can't help but grin too. His life was a little hectic dealing with a rambunctious child, but he wouldn't trade it for the world. And he thinks, if life is like this, he can manage getting old with you. He wouldn't want it any other way.

[casualavocados]

…It's nice. You're so noisy. […] Actually, it'd be better if we died together. That way, neither of us would have to suffer the pain of losing the other, right? Shut up.

KISEKI: DEAR TO ME Ep. 13

[kiwiihead]

when the consequence of your action just arrived to heaven

[t1oui]

jercy except they're awkward asf and take actual years to get together. and i mean "awkward" as in "oblivious" and "oblivious" as in "everybody knows they like each other and they know they like each other but they don't know their feelings are reciprocated even though they're obvious asf".

and when i say everyone knows they like each other, i mean everyone, including people who couldn't possibly see percy and/or jason as anything but straight (cough cough my mortal pjo ocs cough cough). like these two are so obvious people are just changing their worldviews and dismantling stereotypes and biases

i'm just imagining percy going to college in new rome and jason, who has moved to camp half-blood full time, randomly deciding he also lives in new rome now and just... hanging around all the time. and breaking into percy's dorm.

don't even get me started on the blushing... oh my god. like how can you blush that much and watch someone blush that much and still not realize they like you back. annabeth can't figure out the answer yet here percy and jason are, doing exactly that

jason who draws percy whenever he gets tired of drawing blueprints for temples but still wants something to do

percy who gushes about jason to anybody who'll listen (cough cough my mortal pjo oc who he's closest with especially now that annabeth and nico refuse to listen to his queer rambling anymore cough cough)

jason iris messaging piper to gush about percy and her being homophobic towards him (i support her rights and her wrongs)

jercy being so adorable and in love when they finally get together that their friends can't even make fun of them (except for nico, who could not care less and is still a little salty that percy turned out to be queer the whole time)

[eeepgrove]

First kiss

Just a quick heacanon that won't leave my head...

But I so imagine Damirae first kiss as a complete accident. They're lounging by the shore outside Titans Tower enjoying the tide and each others company. Nothing new for them when Raven turns to look at Damian, maybe he's saying something but pauses as Raven looks closely at him lingering on his face. Damian stops what he's saying on the verge of asking her what's wrong as she starts to lean in into his personal space. This whole time he's kinda holding his breath. He'd recently come to terms with the fact: Yes, he does have a crush on his best friend. He feels her hand on his cheek and our Boy Wonder puckers up and leans forward closing the distance between them.

It's a brief kiss- a peck before they pull apart. Now they're looking at each other in shock but before Damian can say anything Raven giggles and tells him he had sand on his face. Damian's flustered because he just impulsively kissed Raven and on top of that he misread the situation. It just makes Raven laugh more before she leans in and kisses him again.

[lightgamble]

DAREDEVIL: BORN AGAIN | 1.09

You asked me for a favor. I did it.

[vaguely-concerned]

powerful mental image of lucanis expounding passionately about any given one of his limited but extremely deep areas of interest (the wyvern/knives/coffee/cooking/murder continuum of lucanis dellamorte special interests if you will) while rye lounges around and Beholds him with palpable twink boutta pounce energy

[moominsuki]

bakugou being shy while simultaneously being a hopeless romantic despite all the shoujo and romance he’s watched and consumed in media is exactly the reason why you initiated your first kiss together. when you break apart the kiss, his face is a mixture of shock, content and furrowed, annoyed brows.

when you ask him why he looks like that, he grumbles under his breath and you soon realise that he wanted to kiss you first!! and you can’t help but laugh at his expression, kissing it straight off his face and he can’t be mad for too long.