#post tpm

[qo-promise-me]

Happy Valentine's QuiObi Day for @guinness-jedi

Full here at AO3

[watmalik]

I can't express how much I love reading IceMav fanfics where you can just picture Mav wagging his (nonexistent) golden retriever tail with a “Please forgive me, dear” look and a sheepish smile — all while Ice is pinching the bridge of his nose, exasperated because his husband almost died from ejecting yet again.

Reprieve (Can You Ever Forgive Me?) and its whole series made this awful past week a little better. I don't know if the author has a Tumblr, but thank you so much.

Really.

[fanfictasia]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Phantoms of Glory Chapter 14-World's Gonna See (Post-TPM), a star wars fanfic | FanFiction

Phantoms of Glory - Chapter 14 - World's Gonna See it (Post-TPM) - Wattpad

[kryzobi-wan]

Me: I'm getting so close to finishing my Sound of Music Obitine AU! I can't wait to get home and work on it!

Also me: *writes nearly 2000 words of Satine and little Anakin bonding while taking care of a grieving Obi-Wan on the bus ride home from work* 🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴

[meantforinfinitesadness]

After

I have this speedily written one-shot for you that I wanted to write yesterday and then got distracted. So, instead, you get this right before I have to leave for work!

It takes place not long after Qui-Gon’s death in TPM. 

Read on ao3

Tag List: @tjfinnigan @ewanmcgregorismyhomeboy12 @yellowisharo

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His mind felt light and airy. His body was numb, though he distantly thinks he should be feeling...something.

Something...like pain? Perhaps exhaustion?

Or, was this feeling the exhaustion?

Whatever it was, he thought he should have felt the floor beneath his boots as he walked. Maybe even the strain of carrying a body in his arms.

He...felt none of that.

The moments before now were slightly fuzzy. As though he had been half-asleep.

He hadn’t been, though. He knew that.

“--obi?” A voice brought his focus back and he blinked. He was in the hangar. When did he-- “Padawan Kenobi?”

His gaze shifted and he took in the face of a girl. He’s sure she’s someone important. He--

“Padawan Kenobi?” She asks again. Her voice is soft and kind. She’s speaking as though he were some spooked animal. 

(Perhaps he was.)

He sees more people walk closer to him. Their eyes are drawn to the body in his arms. 

“Are you alright?” The girl - Padme - asks.

Obi-Wan blinks and, still numb to what’s going on, says, “the assassin is dead.”

He barely registers the words passing his lips. But, it’s as though a switch flips in his mind. The world roars back into focus, loud and rushing in his ears. His body screams at him and his exhaustion makes itself known. 

His knees buckle, but hands catch him. A few others look at him with open, caring eyes as they carefully pull the body from his shaking arms.

He falls to the ground completely once the weight is gone and there are shouts of alarm ringing through the hangar. Tears blur his vision as he watches his Masters lifeless body be carried away. Then, something warm folds around him and he slips into unconsciousness.

[littlespaceporgs]

Back Then

hi babes!! how we feelin about prompt 18 with obi? congrats again ily!

Hello my love! I genuinely enjoyed writing this, I’ve never written in interactions with Anakin so i hope you like it, Ann! <3

Want to Request? See here.

Back Then

Prompt: #18 – “well, it’s the thought that counts”

Pairing: Obi-wan x reader (if you squint, it’s slightly more platonic) Word Count: ~950ish Description: Baking has never been your forte, and it’s not really Anakin’s thing either... What could possibly go wrong?

Tags for my lovelies: @cherieboba @captainrexstan @aty-cgca7 @acnini

“Y’know Anakin, I’m fairly certain that it’s not supposed to look like this.”

“Sure it is! It’s brown, and it’s got choc-chocro-uh?” The small blonde boy turned to look up at you for guidance. You smiled down gently, half stifling a laugh.

“Chocolate?” He then grinned triumphantly and gestured to the bowl in front of you.

“Exactly! Chocolate chips! So it’s supposed to look lumpy right?”

“I’m still not sure... maybe we should add some extra milk so it’s not as thick? Anakin, would you mind?” And with that he ran around the corner to the refrigeration unit.

It had been a little over 5 months since Anakin had arrived in the temple. When Obi-Wan had returned as a knight and without a master. You remember the first few weeks after they got back, when Anakin was still somewhat shy and Obi-Wan was still hurting. During that time, you stepped up to help out with training and caring for Anakin for times, while Obi went to see the mind healers. He had been reluctant to accept any help at all for the longest time, but eventually gave in. 

Now, months later he was still healing, and Anakin was an energetic and reckless 10 year old, and today was Obi-Wan’s birthday. Anakin, who was thankful for Obi taking him on decided that he wanted to make a cake for him and thus enlisted your help. The boy had good intentions, and originally he had said that he wasn’t bad at cooking, that he used to help his mother on Tatooine. You were quickly beginning to doubt this however, if the flour and batter all over the bench was anything to go by. Shaking your head, you laughed and turned to the oven to check the temperature.

“Uh Master?”

You turned to look at Anakin, who was standing rather guiltily with a half empty milk bottle in his hand. Oh no. The second that you had been turned was apparently too long.

“Ye- Force! Anakin how much did you add?” You looked over at the bowl, which now resembled a plain bowl of milk, rather than a cake batter. You picked up the spoon and attempted to get some of the batter. When it slid off the spoon the two of you gagged slightly.

“I think this may be done for, Ani,” you said laughing, “if you’re quick, you may be able to get some pudding cups from the refectory?” The boy, who still had a scrunched up nose, nodded and disappeared out the door this time. You heard him yell from the hallway.

“Hi Master! Bye Master!” The cause of such a yell appeared in the doorframe a second later, mouth falling open as he saw the state of the kitchen. It was rather comical really, you struggled to remember a time when Obi-Wan had looked as bug-eyed as he did now.

“Now, this isn’t what it looks like,” you said, grinning despite the mild look of horror on Obi-Wan’s face. You took steps towards each other until you were only a few inches apart. His arms came up to his chest and crossed in front of him, and then the flabbergasted expression melted into a raised eyebrow and his mouth twitched in a way that made you think that he was attempting to stop himself from laughing.

“So you’re going to tell me that you and my Padawan didn’t attempt to bake something?” You gasped offendedly, resting your hand on your chest.

“How dare you!” Finally breaking, he smiled gently and lent down to kiss your forehead, lighting your cheeks on fire. “Happy Birthday, Obi.”

“Oh, is that what that’s,” he pointed at the mess on the bench, “supposed to be?” You nodded and tried to prod the mixture with the spoon again, which had oddly now turned overly goopy despite nearly being pure milk. You shrugged your shoulders sheepishly.

“Possibly?” He laughed, and for the first time in a while, his smile seemed genuine.

“Well, I guess it’s the thought that counts.” He grinned and wrapped his arms around you and shut his eyes contentedly. You embraced him back, holding him tight around the middle.

“Okay, but did you seriously try to bake when we both know you can’t?” He mocked, and you could hear the smirk on his face.

“Ye-well-it normally doesn’t go that badly,” you didn’t move from where the two of you stood, which you would learn that it was a rather large mistake. “I thought that for once, it might just work out for me!” He laughed again but still didn’t move.

And then oddly, you felt something gooey slide down the back of your head and neck. Unwinding yourself, you reached up to touch it, and upon inspection of your hand, it seemed to be the “cake batter”. Eyes turning upwards, you caught sight of the bowl hovering over you.

“YOU TOLD ME YOU COULD COOK!” A small and somewhat squeaky voice echoed into the room. Spinning widely around, you saw Anakin in the doorway, his hand outstretched in your direction. From beside you, Obi-Wan snorted. Finding your resolve, you smiled sweetly.

“Well Anakin, why don’t you taste it and find out!” And you flung the batter that was stuck to your hand in the young boys direction, where it met his mark across his nose. Laughing, you spun again and whipped your cake filled hair into Obi’s face. Anakin gasped from behind you, as Obi-Wan’s face dropped into shock. Nodding once to himself, he scooped up a handful of flour from the bench. The giggling stopped and you were forced to start running.

“WAIT NO-OBI ST-“ you were cut off as one arm went around your hips and the other threw the flour into your face. Anakin giggled madly and ran in to the fray that quickly, scooping up more batter and flinging it at various areas.

Later on in life, you regarded this as one of the happiest days. Back then, when Obi-Wan didn’t always look exhausted. Back then, when everything just seemed so easy and simple. Back then, when everything was still okay.

[ofyoursilentreverie]

Instead of doing homework I sketched one of @incorrectdisasterlineage ’s quotes so here it is

[ilcuoreardendo-fic]

Nearly a year after Naboo, Obi-Wan feels someone watching him.

Not the eyes of strangers when he’s on the streets of Coruscant, not the questioning glances of citizens in cities and on planets where he’s been sent on short missions in between seeing to Anakin’s Initiate tutoring.

No…this gaze is familiar. And not. If he closes his eyes and concentrates, he can remember the warmth of eyes on him in the training salle, the approving glances when he completed a particularly difficult kata or brought to light something overlooked while on a mission.

He knows this gaze.

(But it’s impossible...)

And it has never felt this hot, this covetous.