Mar 22, 2023
@astromechdroid-r2d2 request | kanej + parallels (aka the things that werenât said) (2.04)
Loading...
seen from China
seen from India
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Spain
seen from Bangladesh
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from Singapore
seen from Spain
seen from United Kingdom
seen from India
@astromechdroid-r2d2 request | kanej + parallels (aka the things that werenât said) (2.04)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
For the prompt, female sastiel maybe? :3
Things were different now that Sam and Cas shared a room. Not in any way that was interesting. Not that anyone else would have noticed. But Sam knew things were different. For one, the bed felt less cold. Sam had been all skin and bones growing up and even now, she still felt cold so often. Skin cool touch. She thought, since Cas was all grace, that she might be cold too. But Cas was warm, all arms and legs, wrapped around Sam like satin. It helped, the days she was sore from pushing too far with exercise, or the days her periods were worse. Cas was there with open arms to warm her up again. Arms felt like home.
There was her vanity. A mirror that Sam barely used now. Most days she barely brushed her hair, let the curls roam free. Only occasionally changed her face with make up. Cas liked the vanity. She sat in front of it often, checking the make up and perfumes and lotions Sam had collected ober the years. Stolen from stores, kept as gifts from the girls she loved. It didn't matter so much that she wore them, but Cas knew they were all important to Sam, so she learned them. And now they shared a room, sometimes they would dress each other up. Sam had missed the slumber party makeovers in her childhood. Cas being there made up for it and more.
But then there were days when the nightmares were bad. When the ghosts of her parents lay beside her in bed. When she thought too much about her time in the cage. When the aches of old hunts came back to her. Those days, she couldn't stay in bed. Couldn't think. Had to do something to stop her thinking. And she would clean the bathroom at 3am. Cook something just to remind herself she could. Read and read, library full of old books. She could visit Oz, think of Charlie there, or learn about folklore from centuries ago. Be anywhere but her own skin. Sometimes, on the silliest nights, she would mess around with make up, paint her face in rainbow colours and scrub it off again. Always moving her hands. Always. And as she felt a nightmare encroaching, she couldn't get out of bed. She was tangled in Cas. Cas didn't need to sleep but she did because of Sam. To be close to Sam. How could she leave her in bed. But she must have been shaking, because Cas was starting to stir. "Are you okay?" She mumbled, eyes only half open. And Sam wanted to laugh it off and say that yeah, she was fine. She didn't want to lie to Cas. "I have to get up and do something," Sam said, and she was so close to bolting out of the bed. One of her shorts had a hole in it. She could sew it up, mend it, like she had done since she was a kid. But Cas was still there. Her fingers were in Sam's hair, not tight enough to keep her there, but soothing. Thumb on Sam's cheek. "It's late, Sam, there's nothing to do." And Sam's hand flexed. Twisting her fingers. Count to ten in her head. "I have to- I need to do something." Cas suddenly understood. Because she was letting go of Sam, sitting up beside her. The lamp was on, and the room was so bright. Aching eyes and aching bones and Sam sat up too. "What's wrong?" Cas asked. Her eyes, ocean eyes, were heavy with worry. Dark and stormy. Sam sighed. "Nightmares," she said. But Cas was expecting something more so, "the cage. Lucifer. I keep thinking about him and I don't want to. I have to go do something, stop thinking. Need to." And she was pushing herself out of bed again. Cas wrapped a hand on Sam's bicep. Gently held her back. "If the memories are bothing you," she said. "You need to address it. Talk to me about it, Sam, I'm always here to listen." "Sorry." "Don't worry," Cas said. She was smiling but her eyes were still dark. "Do you do this often? Wake up in the middle of the night and do something until you forget?" Sam nodded. "The stuff Dad had me doing when I was a kid. Mending clothes, cooking. When I used to worry about him and De on a hunt, I'd clean whatever motel we were in to calm me down. Just shut off my brain, doing something repetitive. You get lost in it, and then everything's a bit cleaner, nicer." "What do you want to do now? If you want to clean, I'll help you. The bunker is too big to clean alone. Or we can do something else. Talk?" And maybe she was just a little too hopeful. "Can we read?" "Read?" "Yeah," Sam said. She thought about all the books in the library. Thought about the new worlds she could place herself in. Take Cas with her. Listen to Cas' soft voice as she recites something new to her. "Of course." And she didn't seem too sure, worry still written on her face. But they went to the library, picked out a book that Sam loved. They sat, hand in hand, Cas reading Carmilla. Pressing kisses to knuckles between paragraph breaks. And soon Sam forgot about everything evil in the world because here she was. Ethereal woman in front of her. Being loved by her. And things were going to be okay.
@astromechdroid-r2d2 tagged me â merci beaucoup!
The rules: tag five or more people that you are thankful were in your 2020, that youâre thankful exists in a world thatâs hard to live in. Whether that be through random reblogs on your posts, or people you have had full blown conversations with. Whether itâs just seeing them on your dash, or interacting with them.
Tagging @arcticelves, @gigi-sinclair, @jeynepoole, @askebjorns, @sasheenka, @succession... thank you all for being in my 2020!Â
I watched Attack of the Clones today and noticed something interesting about how Obi-Wan and Anakin "handled" their creatures in the arena. Anakin tried to calm it and used its force to defend himself against the guards while Obi-Wan cut its limbs and killed it. Kinda remind me of Obi-Wan's line about "a pathetic life form" in Phantom Menace and the way he can be a little "snob" sometimes (snob may be not the best word but I can't think of anything else rn)
I remember reading a very interesting meta on how each beast behaved and how each character handled them was a reflection of the characterâs personality and their overall arc. Iâll try to find it and Iâll reblog it as soon as I do it.
As for Obi-wan being a âsnobâ, yep, especially when he was younger. I mean it takes some arrogance for someone to call a 9 years old slave a âpathetic life-formâ. But the more I think about it the less I believe Obi-wanâs love fordismemberment was a result of arrogance. More than arrogance, Iâd say itâs the result of privilege. In the real world, law enforcement (and all branches of the governments) are expected a certain level of accountability. Even when you act in (alleged) self-defense, certain mechanisms are activated to ensure some level of transparency and, more importantly, legitimacy. The GFFA didnât have that. The Jedi Order only answered to the Senate on the bigger stuff and only when the Senate demanded (which it rarely did) so, for the most part, there wasno real accountability. Now, imagine being raised on the belief that as long as you are doing it for the right reasons, you are doing the right thing. You can justify pretty much anything: mind control, murder, dismemberment, etc. Obi-wan is a product of that environment. So, itâs not like thereâs something âwrongâwith him, but thereâs definitely something wrong with how de was raised and what he was taught.
We can see this so clearly during Ahsokaâs trial when it became obvious how unprepared the Jedi Order was to deal with accountability and the actions of their own members. They have no âJedi internal affairsâ, no system in place to ensure their members are following not only the code but also the Republicâs laws. And, because of that, they can get away with pretty much anything. Of course, that willful blindness is also the direct result of their religious extremism. They are so utterly sure their actions are righteous that they refuse to even acknowledge their members might do something unlawful, let act to alone prevent it. We see this when PadmĂŠ accuses Dooku of being behind her assassination attempt, with the Council immediately dismisses her theory on the simple fact he used to be a Jedi, and thatâs not something a Jedi would ever do.
In the end, itâs not that Obi-wan mindtricks people and cut off their limbs because he believes heâs better than them. Itâs because he feels justified in doing so because thatâs how he was raised.
@astromechdroid-r2d2 replied to your link âSKYDUST III // part 4/4â
This is not sastiel, change your tag please
They are a couple in that fic though? And it is mentioned several times in that particular chapter that theyâre together and doing couple things? I donât see your point, sorry.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Something struck me the other day: I realized that Endgame was the last Cap!Steve movie ever. I mean, I knew it but I was in denial I guess cause the thought hit me harder than a rock and I had to lie down and sob for a minute. I miss him so much I can't believe it's already over. It feels like First Avenger was released to theaters only two days ago. I can't. :(
Describe my blog in terms of "came for the FB fandom, stayed for the friend
love you louf
Rowena/Charlie "meeting in prison AU". XD
Celeste Middleton, alias Charlie Bradbury, was no stranger to getting arrested, even though it was usually a case of mistaken identity when it happened; sometimes it was even legitimately mistaken identity, since Charlie was many things - orphan, runaway, con artist, hacker, lesbian - but she wasnât nearly Scottish enough to pull off being âRowena MacLeodâ.
The woman sharing her cell, however, could easily have been Rowena; she had a rather musical purr of a voice as she lamented how few people there were who understood the joys of, as she put it, being âsexually progressive in this century,â and didnât she think it was a shame for women to be forced to settle when they could sample, and so what if she made a little extra money for it when in this economy every penny counted? Charlie made a mental note to look the woman up sometime... once her partners came through for her and bailed her out again, anyway.