Taylor Swift wrote Fresh Out the Slammer for Playmaker Obikin
“Now pretty baby I’m running straight home to you / Fresh out the slammer I know who my first call will be too”
Everytime i hear it I think about how badly Obi wan must have wanted to go straight home and then he gets ‘napped by his dad.
honestly it’s all playmaker anakin’s fault that he didn’t have someone stationed outside obi-wan’s prison at all hours of every day of his sentence. He should have known that Qui-Gon would try to be all sneaky about this and kidnap his own son to keep him away from anakin
the one big time that anakin lost to qui-gon and it’s really just a miracle that he didn’t immediately kill qui-gon as soon as he returned. probably the only reason he didn’t is because he didn’t want to leave obi-wan alone for that long and he absolutely wanted to kill him himself
“This is boring,” Anakin whined, slicing through the underbrush with his lightsaber.
“Is it normally the job of a politician to keep their Jedi escort entertained?”
He turned over his shoulder and shot her a grin. “Only when she’s his wife.”
Padmé rolled her eyes at that, but laughed nonetheless. “Well, I don’t know that the Council or the Senate would approve of your idea of entertainment.”
“What are you suggesting, milady?” he asked in his most scandalised tone, hacking away at another bush. He wasn’t anxious for another scolding like an hour ago when the hem of her dress had caught on a bramble and ripped. He’d pointed out that maybe she shouldn’t have worn a dress for negotiations that required a couple klicks of walking through forest. She’d pointed out that he essentially wore a dress, too, gesturing to his knee-length tunic. “I only meant a game of I-Spy or Guess-What-I’m-Thinking, of course.”
“Of course,” she said, stepping over a particularly large branch. “But okay. What are you thinking?”
He shot another grin over his shoulder. “That this game is boring and we should find something else to entertain ourselves.”
“Ani,” she laughed, shaking her head. “You’re terrible.”
“Terribly in lo–wait.” He stopped abruptly, holding out a hand to motion for her stillness. “Something’s not right.”
“What are you–”
“I feel…” Anakin closed his eyes, willing himself to focus and concentrate. On something other than Padmé’s perfume. His eyes shot open and his lightsaber was ignited within a second. “Padmé, stop–”
He was on the ground before he could finish his sentence.
The world was upside down and pink and purple, like that time he’d drank a little too much and had to call Obi-Wan for a pick-up. That was a low moment for him, but this...this. This was something else entirely.
He lifted a weightless hand to his neck and fumbled around until he found the small, feathered needle. Iktochi poison dart. He’d only ever seen pictures of them.
Muffled yells surrounded him and he became vaguely aware of someone kicking at his hand. His lightsaber; gone. His fingers clenched as he summoned the weapon back to him, but the Force was silent. Inhibited.
The colours around him became more vibrant and his mind cleared.
Padmé.
He tried to stand up, but his joints were like noodles and he didn’t make much headway. Rough hands came to grip his shoulders. Pathetically, he tried to pull away.
“Careful Jedi,” a voice growled in his ear.
“–the girl?” another voice was saying from somewhere to Anakin’s side. He strained to catch a glimpse of the voice...a glimpse of her...but the pink and purples overwhelmed him and he could barely keep his head from hanging limply in front of him.
“No. She’s not armed.”
Ha, Anakin thought wildly. Shows what they knew about his wife. Not only was Padmé armed–she had weapons built into every layer of her clothing. And she had so. many. layers of clothing.
He’d know.
“Let him go,” she demanded from somewhere in front of him. He should be able to see her or feel her, but he can’t.
“You’re not in a position for negotiations, girl,” the man holding Anakin chuckled darkly.
“On the authority of the Galactic Senate of the Republic, I demand you let him go.”
“The Galactic Senate of the Republic? Well, why didn’t you say so?” the man sneered.
The pinks and purples began to clear again and Anakin finally saw her. She was okay–not drugged like him. Still on her feet and only being mildly restrained by an Iktochi man.
He tried to move his mouth, but his tongue felt heavy and large in his mouth.
“What is the purpose of this?” she demanded. “We are here on a diplomatic mission to meet–”
“Shut up,” the Iktochi holding Padmé hissed. “We don’t care why you’re here. We’re taking the Jedi with us...then, you can get back to your diplomatic mission, for all we care.”
Anakin tried to speak again, but his words were incoherent and garbled. Immediately, he bowled over in pain. The man with a grip on Anakin–also Iktochi, he could now see–was holding an electrostaff, still sparking with the energy that had just jolted through Anakin’s body.
“Don’t!” Padmé cried, before covering her mouth with her hand. She shut her eyes tight and steeled herself, looking as she always did when she was about to propose something to the Senate.
“No.” he managed. Tried to lunge toward her.
She stood tall and took a breath. “Take me instead.”
“Padmé...what are you–”
“I’m a Senator,” she said, her voice even and poised. “A highly effective one, in fact. Surely my ransom would be higher than one of ten thousand Jedi knights.”
“No, you–” His voice became a strangle as another current of electricity coursed through his body.
Padmé watched him with seeming indifference, but Anakin caught the way her eyes widened at his cry of pain. He shook his head violently, unable to form words. Urging her not to do this.
“The offer will not be on the table indefinitely,” she said sharply, with all the composure of Senator Amidala. But Anakin knew her. Panic. She was panicking.
“No,” he croaked, before another shock brought him to his knees.
Her voice pitched the slightest bit higher. “Your answer?”
Anakin felt the bounty hunter tense at his side. The Force went static as the Iktochi man considered his options. If this was any other situation, Anakin would roll his eyes. Iktochis were, generically speaking, some of the most self-serving, deceptive scumbags he’d ever encountered.
Padmé huffed impatiently, her posture stiff and erratic. “Fine, if you–”
“Wait,” the Iktochi growled. “You would willingly...trade places with this Jedi?”
She nodded shortly.
“Why?” he said, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
“You can continue to senselessly question me or you can accept my offer and let him go.” She peered at Anakin and a sliver of her cool countenance fell. “I know this Jedi. He will not go quietly with you. Take me instead.”
“Padmé, no–”
“Foolish girl,” the man sneered. “Your Republic will not come for you.”
“I don’t think you understand the state of the galaxy,” she said evenly. “We’re at war. The Republic will do anything.”
The Iktochi holding Anakin hesitated again, then grunted in frustrated acceptance. “Here,” he shifted behind Anakin, grabbing something from his waist and throwing it to the man holding Padmé. A rope. “Tie her up and take her to the ship.”
Anakin took the distraction as leverage and slammed his shoulder into the man’s side. His movements were still clumsy and spastic, but he hit his mark. The Iktochi hissed in pain as he fell to the ground and Anakin took his moment, running at Padmé’s captor.
Her eyes widened as he ran toward her. “Anakin! No! Don’t–”
He collapsed to the ground in a heap, his body shaking as current after current of electricity was shot through his body from the blow point on his lower back.
“Say goodnight, Jedi,” the bounty hunter rasped above him, before stepping on his flesh hand. Anakin heard the bones in his fingers snap before he felt it. He picked his head up to look at Padmé.
She was scared, he could tell. She opened her mouth, words forming on her lips. He strained to hear and see–
The Iktochi swiftly kicked him in the head and his world went black.
I’ve loved you for so long. It’s really embarrassing. Longer than I knew I even liked girls. I know that now. But because of last year, I’m so so scared. What if this isn’t going to go anywhere? What if we both jump in again, to get hurt? Is it worth the risk? I ask myself.
Then I look at you. I see you laugh to fill the silence and hide your nervousness. I stare into your eyes as the crinkle from your smile. I’ve decided that it is worth the risk. Just tonight with you is worth the risk. You are worth every risk and more in regards to my heart. Because you make me happier than I’ve ever been.
Love it when other people bring up kuwsk so I have an excuse to gush about kusk. Sometimes I think about the graduation of obi wan feeling like he can claim the skywalkers. First telling strangers who mistake the twins for his these are just his friend's kids he's looking after as a favour, then later when people are like "oh so they aren't yours?" He just mists up and is like "up. No. Haha" then finally reaching "LMAO YOU BET THEYRE ALL MINE IVE GOT ALL THE OFFICIAL PAPERWORK!" stage.
!!!!! wait!!!! you've boiled KUSWK down to its bare essentials!!! we're talking about a man who resigned himself to never love (romantic and otherwise) anyone else again because love turned out to be too painful but then he meets another man who hasn''t necessarily gone through the same things marriage/divorce-wise but who knows what it's like to WANT THINGS
and then finally obi-wan makes a transition to the stage that is 'i want this and that's okay of me' and it's prefaced by a ton of faltering sort of half-steps
meanwhile anakin is cheering on the sidelines just waiting for obi-wan to feel comfortable with a single half-step (because in KUWSK, Anakin wouldn't push Obi-Wan to do anything at all because he's emotionally competent and can see and extrapolate the hurtles Obi-Wan is going through)
BUT KUWSK? a story about Obi-Wan, the provider of the house in the og story (he couldn't pay for his house after his ex-wife stopped paying, BUT Anakin needed a house and he had one), WANTING THINGS. PEOPLE. A FAMILY.
honestly obi-wan doesn't know this in KUWSK, but what he wants most in life is a mudroom.
He wants to own a wild crazy house in Coruscant and have a place---a ROOM EVEN--where his partner and his kids take off their (muddy) shoes and raincoats so as not to track mud into his house
like what he wants is to be able to hang up a crumpled rain jacket a few minutes too late when the kids are already gone, streaming further into the house with tiny high voices and laughter that echoes back to him that makes the walls feel less small.
but he doesn't KNOW this yet in most of KUWSK and he doesn't understand how much he wants to claim the Skywalkers in like. every possible parental way. and. it can't be unsaid---to claim the one Skywalker in a very non-parental way.
I want to take a road trip w you. A really cliche one. I want to wake up from the backseat, entangled with each other. I want to spend the days listening to music with you as afternoon sunshine washes over your fingers wrapped around the steering wheel. I want to watch you sleep in the passenger seat as a podcast plays softly in the background. I want to toss hamburger wrappers at you when you make a stupid joke. I want to sleep with you humming in the background. I want to spend night on the trunk looking at the starts and wrapped in each other. I want to kiss you in the moonlight and watch the sun rise over the horizon, only to brush his soft fingers through your hair as you sip shitty coffee. I want to end up someplace new with you. I want to pick flowers off the side of the road for you. I want you, here, with me, young and in love.
