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Dye my eyes and call me pretty.

American Teen Princess.
So I guess my writer's block begins to chip away as soon as I'm legitimately busy with school/work stuff anew; kinda awesome and annoying, that. Anywho, here's an end-of-summer 'fic!

Summary: Anakin walks a mile in Padme's shoes, so to speak, much to her dismay. Set during "Hostage Crisis," the season one finale of TCW. Title comes from Matt Nathanson's "Laid." Written for patientalien, and not just because I'm trying to guilt her into drawing fanart for it. (Really, really.) Rated PG-13 for cross-dressing and some salty behavior.

'Dressed Me Up in Women's Clothes, Messed Around With Gender Roles'; 1,322 words.Collapse )
Yellow.
It's not much - my ideas/to-write list is staggering compared to the energy I have to attend to much of it right now - but I was finally able to finish a short 'fic. P.S.: Other people should start cranking out the filthy, gratuitous Obitine smut so I don't have to keep doing it.

Summary: Obi-Wan's the only one who can ever reach Satine, and she's about to be within arms' length again. Warnings: Contains some BDSM-colored material, and casual misogyny masquerading as foreplay. Title comes from "Son of a Preacher Man" - I'm particularly digging Katey Segal's version recorded for Sons of Anarchy. Rated NC-17.

'Taking Time to Make Time (Telling Me That He's All Mine)'; ~1,980 words.Collapse )

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They're spreading blankets on the beach.

Traditional Geonosian party games.
I think I might have some of my writing energies back - hi there, (strategic, medication-induced) hypomania, you are some kind of sorcerer! Anyway, I'm thrilled to be able to use my newly unearthed ability to pen something for Sarah, who is struggling at the moment with her own mental fortitude, and on a brief hiatus from home (w00t, business-trippin' in Chicago!), to boot. In a more personal setting, I might say something to the effect of, "Anything you need that I can possibly provide is yours," and "I love you more than life itself," and even "I really enjoyed touching your boobs this morning," but I like to think all of that is implied by the fact that I'm dedicating this story to her. So there.

Summary: After the events of the Clovis arc (season six, episodes 15-17), Anakin and Padme reconcile. Credit for this idea goes largely to Sarah; I'm just writing it down. Title comes from the song "First Day of My Life," by Bright Eyes. Rated a soft R for lukewarmly-described sexytimes, and warning for vaguely dubious consent on Padme's part.

'I Thought It Was Strange You Said Everything Changed'; 1,188 words.Collapse )
Thought glass.
First 'fic of the new year, yay! I actually started this in 2013, but, well, life stuff got in the way a bit, that old chestnut. Anywho~, my first/possibly only foray into Sons of Anarchy fandom, huzzah!

Summary: In the wake of Clay's arrest, Gemma reflects on what she has, or doesn't have, with Nero. Set between season five and six; title comes from "To Sir With Love," one of the many songs Katey Sagal sings for the show. Rated PG-13.

'If You Wanted the Moon, I Would Try to Make a Start (But I Would Rather You Let Me Give My Heart)'; 1,087 words.Collapse )
Then you are lost!
Written as a present for my wife's 30th birthday (I love, love, love you, patientalien!), something we've talked about a few times, but haven't really done anything with until now.

Summary: Bail receives a special gift from the Empire for his continued cooperation. Bailbiwan, implied Vader/Obi-Wan. Hints at non-con, hence the rating, but contains no actual sex. Title comes from Lady GaGa's "Swine." Rated M/R.

'Maybe I Should Have a Little More Just to Stay Out of My Mind'; 1,320 words.Collapse )

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Don't step on Bail Organa's dick.

I always like to watch myself when I go
I finally wrote something! It's piddling compared to my productive streak this summer, but huzzah!

Summary: Obi-Wan's appeal to the Senate for better prison food following his subterfuge as Rako Hardeen might require some aggressive negotiations. Set shortly after the "Deception" arc. Dedicated to Sarah, Rin, Estora, and Jen. Title comes from a poem by Alexander Pope. Rated PG-13 for bodily functions.

Give His Little Senate Laws, and Sit Attentive to His Own Applause'; 1,540 words.Collapse )

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Vulnerable.
I should probably write something funny or porny next. Three angst 'fics in a row kind of makes it a habit; but there you go.

Summary: Obi-Wan goes through the motions in the scant first days following Qui-Gon's death. Title and section header lyrics come from Owl City's "If My Heart Was a House." Rated PG.

'I Should Have Known (That I Feel Colder When I Walk Alone)'; 1,493 words.Collapse )
As you wish.
I kept saying I wanted to write this, and I guess I've been feeling a tad dour lately, because it didn't take much poking and prodding for it to come out this afternoon/evening.

Summary: Anakin needs something from Obi-Wan, following his deception as Rako Hardeen. Rated R for non-graphic sex; also, the Anakin/Obi-Wan slash is strong in this one, kids. Title comes from "Wait" by the Foo Fighters. Dedicated to Rin/lady-anakin-skywalker/ladyanakin, because I think she wanted to see this more than anyone.

'Getting Good at Starting Over, Every Time That I Return'; 1,634 words.Collapse )

I am the ground zero ex-friend you ordered.

Hands touch eyes meet.
I've had a lot of feels about the season five finale of Clone Wars in general, and I even ended up writing a couple of quick and dirty one-shots back when it first aired: In If I Should Call You Up, Invest a Dime (And You Say You Belong to Me, and Ease My Mind), Anakin receives some late-night correspondence from ~you-know-who; and then in Whisper in a Dead Man's Ear, It Doesn't Make It Real, Obi-Wan seeks out Ventress. What I specifically didn't tackle was an Obi-Wan-speaking-to-Anakin-about-Ahsoka-leaving story; Sarah actually wrote one a while back (and it's good!), but there's a distinct lack of avoidance on Obi-Wan's part, and I guess that's the sticking point for me, this idea that he would just feel so guilty about everything that's happened that he wouldn't be available to comfort Anakin immediately. Stuff like this GIFset from "The Wrong Jedi" by commandertano over on Tumblr really helped cinch it for me, and, well, here's my head-canon for Obi-Wan's head-space in 'fic form, meant to take place circa a week or so after the events of the season five finale.

Summary: "If he's to be completely and utterly honest with himself, he's been avoiding Anakin since Ahsoka left." Obi-Wan and Anakin finally talk after "The Wrong Jedi." Title comes from the Dresden Dolls' "Truce." Rated PG.

'Disguised as a Hero to Get Past Your Borders'; 2,106 words.Collapse )
I lyk ur Naboobies.
Reposting this here for the sake of archiving it. It's a little weird to me just how popular anything and everything involving tentacle monsters is on AO3 (and presumably, everywhere else, as well), but, well, there you go.

Summary: Obi-Wan gets captured by Xanatos, posing as an ice cream man, again. For one reason or another, our entire RP group kinda sorta ships Obi-Wan with Jerilingus, Xanatos du Crion's pet tentacle demon, who may or may not simply be Xanatos' genitals (a la that episode of Drawn Together - you know which one), and who is unequivocally in love with Obi-Wan. Jen/queenhandmaidensenator initially coined Jerry's name/nickname, and now the whole thing is ridiculous but also kind of perfect; like, my new head-canon is even that the slivilith featured in my Obi-Wan tentacle MPREG story, "Two Jedi and a Tentacle Monster," is actually just Clone Wars-era Obi-Wan/Jerry now; and then in the Dark Jedi RP 'verse, Xanatos totes his now-aging tentacle demon to Coruscant for a heartfelt reunion ... you get it. In any case, the 'joke'/implication is that Jerry's love for Obi-Wan is rather non-consensual, and Obi-Wan is but a nubile teenage Padawan besides, hence the warnings. Dedicated to Rin/lady-anakin-skywalker, both because of her amazing fanart linked to here (Xanatos kidnaps Obi-Wan a lot, okay), and also because she could use the pick-me-up right now. Title comes from the song "Pure Imagination," because Xanatos as Willy Wonka is kind of the best mental image ever, even more than Xanatos as an ice cream man. Rated PG-13.

'If You Want to View Paradise, Simply Look Around and View It'; 500 words.Collapse )

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Padme Interrupted.
citizenjess
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Floating out to wonderland

A bit later into the evening found Bail, Padme, and Anakin reconvened in Bail's sitting room, with Obi-Wan having excused himself to the refresher. The conversation had once again turned towards security; namely, opportunities that were available for those in the Senate to learn to protect themselves. "Bail actually runs a firearms-handling seminar that is very popular," Padme noted.

"Didn't know you knew much about firearms." Reclined in one of Bail's overstuffed chairs, Anakin regarded the other man coolly.

Bail shrugged modestly. "I make it my business to know as the head of the Security Force." He gestured to a bag sitting on a nearby table. "I've even started carrying a blaster. It's no lightsaber, certainly, but it does what it needs to do."

Anakin snorted, summoning the small firearm into his hand with a tendril of the Force. "You're right, it's definitely not a lightsaber." Bail's mouth straightened a little, but Anakin pressed on: "C'mon, I've seen training lightsabers that pack more of a charge than this thing."

"Yes, well." For all his practice in diplomacy, Bail often found himself struggling to remain friendly in the wake of Anakin's unfiltered teasing. "It's gotten the job done on plenty of occasions."

"Okay." Anakin floated the blaster towards Bail, watching him pluck it from the air. "You should put your toy back in your purse before it hurts someone, Senator," he said, gesturing at the bag lying on the chair beside him.

Bail frowned outright this time. "It's called a satchel, actually."

"Yeah, yeah, a man-purse, like you said."

Padme crossed her arms over her chest. "Stop being a nerfherder, Ani. Bail's empowered lots of people to safely and effectively handle a blaster."

"'Safely,'" Anakin bleated. "Look, baby, it's cute that either of you think this tiny little handgun is going stop anything, let alone a one-'droid invasion on Coruscant, but all it's going to do is antagonize your enemy into giving you an even more difficult time. That thing wouldn't harm a youngling."

The shot was quick and matter-of-fact, and hit, as was its intended target, just below Anakin's right knee. "Kriffing HELLS," he gasped, and rolled, wheezing, onto the floor. "What in the karking ... that vaping HURT."

He was still rolling around when Obi-Wan returned. "What's going on?" he asked, perplexed, both by Anakin's persistent and galaxy-spanning array of expletives ("son of a drukking blaster"), and also by Padme's equally lengthy collapse into helpless laughter. He glanced at Bail, who had picked up the blaster bag at this point and placed the still-smoking gun inside. "What happened?"

"I'll tell you what happened," Anakin groaned, doing his best to smear as much blood as he could along Bail's expensive-looking rug. "Senator Organa karking shot me."

Obi-Wan sighed. "Anakin, honestly, when you were a Padawan, this penchant for lying was merely something to be corrected, but as it stands, you should know better by now."

"Master, I'm serious!" Anakin gasped out something ending in "Sithspit poodoo," and pointed an accusing finger at Bail. "He shot me 'cause I said his blaster was tiny." Behind him, Padme's continued giggling could be heard. "Not cool, baby."

For his part, Bail just shrugged. "Guns are dangerous," he intoned, and to Anakin's dismay, Obi-Wan nodded in agreement. "I just hope Anakin has learned that now."

"Yeah, because you crinking SHOT ME!" He tried to stand, but went down again in a hurry as pain ripped up his leg. "OW."

"HAHAHAHAHA," Padme said.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, begrudgingly holding out a hand. "The money for a replacement rug is going to come out of your expense account, Anakin. Also, you owe Senator Organa an apology for ruining this lovely evening."

"Like druk I do!" He saw that he was in danger of losing his tenuous ability to hobble out to his and Obi-Wan's shared speeder with his Master's help, however, and glared at Bail. "Thanks for the food. Sorry about your rug," he said through gritted teeth, not sorry at all.

Bail smiled magnanimously at him. "That's all right. I'll just send an invoice over to the Council."

"Great," Anakin sighed, the pain in his leg reduced to a persistent yet dull throbbing by now. With his arm slung around Obi-Wan's shoulders, he made his way to the front door, gratified before it closed behind them that, at least, Padme's laughter had been subdued by uncomfortable-sounding hiccups.

(From "I Love You, Obi-Wan Kenobi," by citizenjess and patientalien.)
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