#gym teacher obi wan

[ihathbenobiwankenobied]

Double Mullet Single Stache: The Roller Skating Incident

Inspired by art (and Teacher Codywan/Mustache Cody AU ideas) from journen and sunflowersinheaven! 

My gift to y’all for this delightful AU @journen @sunflowersinheaven

Summary:

Cody bumps into Obi-Wan while roller skating in the park– literally.

High School Teachers AU! where Cody and Obi-Wan are on summer break and find each other regardless.

Word count: 2,292

Ten days. 

It was down to ten days before he would be back at school with all of the high school brats that he equally loved and hated. Every year the same feeling returned, the simultaneous dread and excitement that came with the beginning of a new school year. 

Cody had walked to the park from his job at the coffee shop in town where he spent his slow summer days as a barista, and as he walked, a bit of anxiety tugged at his stomach.

Of course, he had been planning for the upcoming school year all summer with his notepad and laptop tucked into an empty space on the counter when there were slow days at the shop, but he couldn’t help but feel unprepared. Each year brought new challenges, new kids, and an endless supply of phone calls with angry parents who were convinced he wasn’t doing his job right. 

With a sigh, Cody tried to clear his head and sat heavily on an empty park bench that overlooked the sidewalk.

It was a hot day, but not hot enough to keep people inside their houses. The sidewalk was filled with bikers, teenage skateboarders, and families watching the ducks swim around in the river. 

Cody planned to join them.

Fingers trembling a bit as he wished away the remnants of anxiety, Cody pulled his socks and orange roller skates. A small smile crept onto his face as he put them on and stood on wobbly feet to straighten his matching orange shorts. 

Here we go Cody, no more stress today. 

Tossing his bag behind a bush, hoping no one would think to steal an old, dirty gym bag, Cody set out onto the busy sidewalk and pushed to the edge closest to the river away from most of the crowd. 

Though he skated once a week, if not more, his first few minutes were always unbalanced and Cody held his arms stiffly at his sides as he propelled himself slowly along the edge of the river. 

After a few minutes, he felt himself finally start to relax. His muscles untightened and the tightness in his chest seemed to loosen just a little, especially as he began to watch a group of swans float along the very edge of the water. 

He had taken his eyes off the sidewalk for just a second, but that was already too long and he heard a man’s voice ring out from right in front of him–

“Watch out!” 

Cody barely had time to rip his eyes away from the swans before he saw a flash of auburn hair and yellow and suddenly he collided with something– someone. 

Toppling backwards to the side and landing with a loud thud, he thanked his lucky stars that his head had just missed colliding with the pavement, and instead bounced against the grass. His calves and elbows, however, met a somewhat worse fate and scraped against the sidewalk.

That will hurt tomorrow.

Taking a moment to collect himself and catch his breath, Cody stayed on his back, eyes trained on some oddly shaped cloud in the sky. He blinked a few times, pressing a hand against the back of his head to find that it just felt a bit sore; the hit likely hadn’t been bad enough to cause a concussion. 

Suddenly, just as he was about to sit up and make sure he hadn’t caused too much damage to the other skater, a head appeared in front of his eyes hovering just above him. Well– at least he thought it was a head; his eyes produced a blurry image of something floating above him and he tried to focus his eyes. 

For a moment he started to think he might have a concussion after all. 

“Are you–?” The image above him became clear just as the man above him began to speak in a English drawl that sounded so very similar to–

“O-Obi-Wan?” He asked as his eyes widened. The man leaning over him certainly looked like Obi-Wan, and sounded like him too, but his hair was styled as a mullet– a goddamn mullet, and his facial hair was a little bit less well-kept than he usually left it. Not to mention, Obi-Wan usually wore glasses, and the man above him had no glasses but those same ocean blue eyes. 

“Mr. Fett– I mean– Cody!” His hunch had been correct judging by Obi-Wan’s raised eyebrows and the concern– then shock– that curled over every feature of his face. He had always been so expressive. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean…” Obi-Wan looked nervous, especially when his cheeks slowly developed into a pronounced red and he shut his open mouth with a snap. 

“That’s okay– could I sit up?” Cody asked awkwardly under Obi-Wan’s piercing gaze; he felt his own blush begin to stain his cheeks. 

For a moment, Obi-Wan stared at him and Cody could not help the pit that settled into his stomach. Obi-Wan looked… good. Stunning. 

His lips were the same rosy red that had always been, and his beard almost looked better unkempt, but the mullet– the mullet suited him better than the side-parted, neatly organized look he had taken to wearing for the past year at school. It lined his face and jaw so perfectly and made him look much more– well… hot.

To put it simply. Not that he didn’t look hot in his button-ups and khaki pants and goddamn sweaters; Cody loved Obi-Wan’s sense of style. Perhaps it was the contrast from his usual attire that made Cody’s heart beat just a little bit faster. 

Normally kept his athletic form hidden beneath a well-tailored pair of slacks, but now, it was all on show. 

Cody swallowed as Obi-Wan extended a hand to him to help him to his feet. 

Cody was surprised by how strong his grip was and how easily Obi-Wan seemed to pull him onto his unsteady feet. Cody wobbled on his skates, barely maintaining his balance, but Obi-Wan caught him with an arm curled around his side and smiled gently as Cody finally seemed to stop rolling out of control. 

It was certainly Cody’s turn to be embarrassed. 

“Sorry, I should be better at this.” He murmured before catching sight of Obi-Wan’s yellow, half-zip top. The zipper had been pulled down far enough that the red curls of Obi-Wan’s chest hair were peaking out– chest hair that Cody had no idea Obi-Wan possessed, but it made the entire situation that much worse. 

Fuck him and his hot fucking chest hair and stupid fucking mullet. 

Cody wanted to say that, but instead, he tore his eyes away and tried to blink away the image. 

“Oh– oh… Cody you’re bleeding.” Obi-Wan’s English accent rang out again and Cody looked back up at him, not noticing any blood himself, “Here on your elbow– I think on your leg too.”

Cody twisted around to find that indeed, blood seemed to be dripping down onto his forearm and down the back of his leg. Shit. 

Cody was about to say goodbye and head back to his old gym bag with a hope that it contained some sort of bandage when–

“I’ve got some plasters in my bag just over there. It’s my fault we bumped into each other anyway– at least let me bandage you up.” Obi-Wan stared at him expectantly, eyes soft and lips curled into a slightly guilty smile. 

Who was Cody to say no to that face?

So he agreed, notably without hesitation, to go with him.

He let Obi-Wan guide him across the busy sidewalk and up the hill until they reached an old oak tree where Obi-Wan had left his own ratty gym bag. Next to the old tree was the edge of the road where Obi-Wan told Cody to sit while he rummaged through his bag. 

“Here they are.” He murmured as he knelt in front of Cody, shorts riding up on his markedly well-muscled legs as he ripped open the packaging of the first bandage with his teeth. 

Fucking hell–

“I didn’t know you were a skater, Cody.” Obi-Wan said, concentration painted across his features. "I would have invited you to gym class when we started that unit. The kids could always use a little extra instruction."

“Oh– I’m really a beginner. I only started this summer– it gives me something to do.” Cody said, realizing it made him sound slightly more lonesome than he meant it to. Not that he hadn’t been just a little bit… well– lonely, he just didn’t want to give Obi-Wan that impression. 

He followed up with a big smile and then a little frown as Obi-Wan’s shoulder nudged against a bruise on the inside of his knee as he tilted Cody’s calf to an angle where he could reach the small, bleeding cut.

The little wrinkle that formed between Obi-Wan’s eyebrows as he concentrated on placing the bandage on Cody’s calf was unhealthily attractive– Cody could barely tear his eyes away.  

Before Cody could say something he would regret later, Obi-Wan had already sat up a bit and was beginning to search through the small first-aid kit for another bandage. 

“Looks like we had the same idea then.” Obi-Wan said as he pointed a finger to Cody’s head after a moment of sifting through his supplies. For a moment, Cody was confused, before he realized, embarrassment leaking into his cheeks, that he had also chosen to grow a mullet over the summer. He had figured it would match the mustache he had managed to maintain during the last half of the school year. 

The same mustache Obi-Wan had complimented. Twice. 

“I think it looks better on you.” Obi-Wan said with a hint of an embarrassed smile, “I was planning to cut my hair again for the new school year anyhow.”

“No!” Cody said much too quickly, “Sorry– I just meant… It looks good on you. I think you should keep it– the students will probably love it.” That made Obi-Wan smile widely, the blush on his cheeks ever-present and so adorable that it made Cody want to reach out and caress his face with the pad of his thumb. 

Instead, he kept his fist clenched at his side.

“Oh I’m sure they would. I can hear it now– ‘Look! Mr. Kenobi’s trying to be fashionable!’” Obi-Wan said with another large grin as he placed another bandage across Cody’s elbow and moved upward to sit next to him on the curb. 

“At least the two of us together will single-handedly stop the kids from latching onto this trend. We can keep it to ourselves.” Cody said with a shrug and attempted but failed to avert his eyes from the skin of Obi-Wan’s thighs that were left exposed to the ungodly shortness of his shorts.

And Cody had thought his own shorts were short.

“I suppose you’re right, Cody.” Obi-Wan said with a hearty chuckle and absently stroked a hand through the longer hair on the back of his head. 

There was a momentary pause in conversation, though it wasn’t quite awkward, just filled with a familiar tension that Cody swore he could feel in the air. It was the same tension he felt every time he passed by Obi-Wan in the teacher’s lounge. 

Cody cleared his throat. 

“Um– thank you for the bandaging Obi-Wan.” Cody murmured and suddenly noticed he was copying Obi-Wan as he ran a hand across the curls on the back of his own head. 

“My pleasure– again, it was my fault, really. At least I have a lot of practice bandaging up arms and legs. Gym class can get a little rowdy sometimes!” He smiled brightly and Cody allowed himself a nervous chuckle. 

“Are you ready for the school year?” Cody asked, “I’m sure as hell not.” He added for good measure. 

Obi-Wan nodded enthusiastically, much to Cody’s surprise. 

“Don’t get me wrong, teaching can be exhausting, but this summer has been rather… boring.” Obi-Wan shrugged and played with the zipper of his top with nimble fingers.

Cody resonated with him; his own summer hadn’t quite been one for the books. The thought was accompanied by an immediate urge to say something– anything really– to ask Obi-Wan out on a date. 

Would that take it too far? Was it a good idea to do that just before the school year began? Would it be awkward if Obi-Wan said no?

Cody tried to think.

“I can’t say my summer was much more interesting.” Cody said with a lopsided smile that he meant to look much more natural, “I became a barista– just for something to do.” He added with a shrug and Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.

“Really? That’s quite impressive. Have you perfected your latte art?” Obi-Wan asked with a touch of sarcasm in his tone and a wide grin that simply lit up his entire face.

“I have– I make a pretty damn good heart.” Cody drew a heart in the air with the tips of his index fingers. 

Then an idea– one more natural than asking Obi-Wan out on a lousy half-assed dinner date– struck him. 

“Hey– what if you stopped by the coffee shop sometime? I owe you a free latte– foam art included– after this one. Maybe we can go for a skate after?” Cody’s heart pounded loudly in his ribcage as he watched Obi-Wan’s facial expression for any indication of his feelings.

Please for the love of god, let him say yes.

Obi-Wan’s grin grew even wider, “How about tomorrow? Say– ten?” 

Cody could have cried.

“It’s a date.”

Don’t forget the booty shorts, Cody wanted to add, but he figured it was better to save special requests for the second date.

#well Im in mustache cody hell I guess #Im not mad about it #so come on in the water is fine #anyway please enjoy this fic that I wrote after witnessing the beautiful roller skating art from journen and sunflowersinheaven #I was floored #so here I am #mullets may or may not be involved fair warning #codywan #mustache cody #mulletwan #obi wan kenobi #cc-2224 #commander cody #teacher au #math teacher cody #gym teacher obi wan #codywan hell

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Marvel

Dumb, Dumber and Dumbass by tempestaurora

As Coach Wilson peered out the window in the living room, May said, very quietly, “You didn’t realise your brother worked at Peter’s school?”

“We all make mistakes!” Sam hissed.

Then Coach Wilson was leaning back and a figure in a hoodie and jeans stepped through the window and into the living room, and Peter’s heart sank into his stomach like a rock. Sam’s brother was, true to story, scarred from head to toe. He could see the puckered skin on his hands, the burns across his bald head. But that wasn’t the shocking part—the shocking part was that he’d already seen it before: he’d seen it when a certain vigilante’s suit had been destroyed three nights before, and Peter had walked with him back to his backpack to loan him some clothes.

“This is Wade,” Sam introduced.

Sam Wilson had two brothers: one was Peter’s gym teacher, and the other was fucking Deadpool.

OR: A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Family Dinner, during which Peter and May meet Sam's family. Meanwhile, Tony sends constant text updates about his search for whoever graffiti-ed Avengers Tower.

Death Before Inaction by hppjmxrgosg

"Fuck off, Nicky.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Hasn’t anyone ever told you spider-napping is illegal?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “You can’t hold me here, I know my spider-rights.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “God, you guys are so old. What are you? Like 27?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Scale of 1 to 10, how upset would you be if I told you I banged your mom?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Or, I got my grubby little hands on the spider-man time line and fucked around a little bit. Not much (everything) changes.

DC / Star Wars (Crossover)

Obi-Wan in Gotham by hoebiwan (+ podfic)

Obi-Wan falls through a hole in the universe and ends up in the Batcave.

Clone Wars

the war has just begun by unintentionalgenius

The first problem was that the Supreme Commander didn’t give them enough warning about what they were stumbling into, when they were ordered out into it. Someone above General Kenobi’s head sent the men planetside in standard-issue gear, without thermal clothing or heat packs or sleeping kit or enough food for more than a single day. They had no extra ammo, no tents, no heavy artillery. They had barely any warning.

The second problem was that Supreme Command underestimated the strength of the enemy; it was supposed to be an easy enough job, holding the planet long enough to route the Seppies and then right back to the ship, leaving a contingent of troopers stationed there to retain what they’d won.

The third problem - the real problem - came when they let themselves become surrounded and the Separatists cut their supply line. Cody’s partially at fault for that one; a better Commander would’ve seen it coming. A better Commander would’ve had more backup plans, been prepared for more contingencies.

Being cut off from re-supply would’ve been a problem before the snow started.

Then the snow started.

I've never made it with moderation by Trixree (+ podfic)

He’d known how some of the men are with younglings—known from Waxer and Boil how sharply those attachments can form with little ones. Hell, the men were raised to be protective, so much so that Obi-Wan has often wondered if their protective drive was not written into their very atoms, some intrinsic part of their DNA.

It wasn’t something Obi-Wan had ever questioned. He’d thought he had understood the scope of it. In reality, he hadn’t understood a thing.

Not until Kamino.

Or: Not all that dive from cliffs make a running head start. Sometimes, the Fall is only a natural progression.

Standards of Professionality by Trixree

"Are we going to pretend I didn’t just find you fucking your General, vod?” Rex hisses over private-comm.

Cody doesn’t even turn his head to look at him. Rex can hear the smile in Cody’s voice when he replies, “No, because I am not fucking my General, Rex’ika. I am fucking Obi-Wan. We are professionals.”

5 times Cody and Obi-Wan struggled to maintain plausible deniability regarding their affections for one another + 1 time they decidedly Did Not.

The Hunger Games

Lover & Loner by amateurwordbender

Haymitch once told him that he’s a survivor. It hadn’t been a compliment; he’d slurred out the words in pity after finding Finnick shaking apart from a panic attack.

Jo’s a survivor, too.

(Finnick and Johanna, from the moment they meet to the bitter end)

Original Works

for the want of a jewel by FormlessVoidbeast

With his country fallen to the unstoppable tide of the Dread Warlord, a terrified king sends a peace offering of his own flesh and blood in the hopes of buying leniency.

When Prince Damian of Miska is accepted as the symbol of his country's surrender and immediately wedded to the Warlord, he expects his fate to be both painful and humiliating, and his death inevitable. To his confusion, the Warlord and his terrible Warlock seem to have no interest in abusing that which they have claimed as their own. As Damian finds his feet and gains friends in a new land, he begins to question everything he once thought was true.

But some jewels were never meant to be sold, and the consequences of Damian's sacrifice are more far-reaching than anyone expected.

#i have also been in the trenches of hunger games fic over the past week #i've been in dark fandoms before and read a lot of heavy content #but hoo boy the hunger games fandom is BLEAK #my posts #weekly fic round up #fic recs #marvel recs #sw recs #original works recs #misc recs #hunger games recs

[notthestarwar]

one more and then i have to get on with things lol

but this is my favourite. we've had dentist obi wan, we've had tired coffee shop worker obi wan, get ready for: aerobics teacher obi wan

Kenobi was wearing a headband.

“What the fuck is this”

“I'm sorry?” Obi Wan said in surprise, looking up from his gym bag.

“What are you wearing?” Jango said in disbelief.

The Jedi looked down at himself, taking in the vest and fluorescent shorts and looking back to Jango with a raised eyebrow. 

“I believe it's what you'd call active wear...quite usual for a gym I assure you.” He gave a smile that was only slightly strained. “Now will you be joining the class?”

“The what?” Jango asked. 

“The exercise class.” Obi Wan replied calmly. “This is, afterall,” he gestured to the door to their left, “the hall in which I teach the 11am aerobics class.”

“Is that why you are here?” He asked. 

“No of course not!” Jango spluttered. “Why would I be here for... for that?”

“What the hell is going on here.” He asked angrily. 

Obi Wan gave him a patient smile. “As I mentioned, I'm here to lead an aerobics class.” He looked Jango up and down. “You on the other hand…”

“What.” Jango said, deadpan.

Then, he jolted slightly. “What is on your head?” He asked, baffled. 

“My head?” Obi Wan asked, slightly confused by the change in direction.

“Yes, your head.” Jango confirmed, staring at the monstrosity. In fact, it wasn’t only the headgear, he took another look at the Jedi’s outfit, garish and luminescent. There was no excuse for any of it, even in a place of exercise. The man looked like a doll.  

“Why are you dressed like that?” Jango asked him, half pleading. He just wanted to understand. 

“I thought we'd already covered that.” Obi Wan retorted. “This is a sweat band. It's part of the outfit.” He said, primly. “Now then, it's 11.02 so if you won't be joining us…”

#star wars au #mywriting ntwyw #wip

[eupheme]

Day 3: Baking / Messy Kitchen

moodboard + 5 sentence fic

Rated M - Modern!Obi-wan x GN!Reader

Tags: kissing, implied oral

You agree to help your boyfriend – a gym teacher at the local academy – make cookies for the annual bake sale. Problem is, he can’t seem to keep his hands off you.

His hips pin yours against the counter, the tilt of your head as it rises, fingers reaching to brushing the bits of flower that cling to his beard - making the greying, coarse strands look even lighter.

When he bends to kiss you, he tastes like sugar - a heat blooming in your stomach as he presses against you, a low moan sliding from your throat.

Breaking the kiss to sink to his knees, hands curving against your hips - his lips touching down against your sternum, then stomach - as his fingers tease at the waistband of your sweatpants.

“We can’t,” You protest, though it’s pathetically weak - your fingers are already sinking into the strands of his hair, “What if-, they’ll burn-”

“I’ll worry about the timer, darling.” He hums, lips brushing against the inches of skin that come into view, “You just keep yours eyes on me.”

[dilfcember masterlist]

(taglist - @andrewrussgarfield, @obiknights)

#wwdilfcember #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan x you #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan x you

[youeverjustmarryabountyhunter]

Figured I might as well start actually posting about this Au I made- 

The au in question is a Star Wars modern au that I plan to one day turn into an actual fic, but as of now it's just one poorly put together chapter and a lot of brainstorming!

It's sort of a slice of life/everyone lives/happy ending story. It's centered around Boba Fett and started as a joke about his name and how in a modern setting when people first meet him they say 'Like the tea?' And he gets irrationally annoyed by it. Hence the name "No, Not The Tea" (but shortened to "Not The Tea" because removing 1 word suddenly makes it less of a mouthful)

But let's meet the characters, yeah?

The star of our show, Boba Fett, is 15 years old and the story starts with his first year of highschool.  He's grumpy (your typically moody teen) and the youngest of his brothers unless you count Din (14) and he does because he's tired of being the baby. (It does have its perks, though) Din isn't actually his brother, but he and the rest of their little rag tag group might aswell be family. (Peli 17, Fennec 16, and Cobb 15) 

Next up we have everyone's favorite dad, Jango Fett! (He's a very good father in this) Father of 3 boys(or so he thought) Kote "Cody" (23), Rex(19), and Boba, he has his hands full despite two of them being grown. He works as a bounty hunter (cause that's an actual profession) and his hobbies include annoying his family, and crushing on his kids history teacher. At the age of 18, he signed up to be a sperm donor unaware of just how much they would be using his DNA. Turns out? A lot. And the majority don't seem to have a good home life. He's sufficiently pissed, when he finds out. 

Coming in as the eldest child of the Fett household we have Cody! (That was until 17 and Fox showed up at least) Any legal document you find will say "Kote" but people are stupid and difficult and can't pronounce it (it's exceedingly simple, really) so Cody was born. Cody is a caffeine addict (though what Fett isn't?) and will jump at any opportunity to bother his younger brothers. (He once got Obi-Wan to buy Boba a boba-tea..Obi-Wan thought it was sweet! Boba almost committed a murder. They do not speak of that incident) 

The middle child that somehow became a father to twins before anybody else could even think of utter the words "grandchildren" would be Rex. It's not like it's his fault! He figured having his 8th period of his senior year would be fun. He didn't anticipate that helping his gym teacher out would involve talking a sophomore down from a panic attack. (Echo, 16 at the time. 17 when our story starts) It's absolutely not Rex's fault that he and his twin followed him around like little ducklings after that. (Fives called him dad as a joke, so Rex took it upon himself to tell Jango that he had grandkids and almost gave the man a heart attack.) It doesn't help the Echo and Fives look suspiciously like Boba- hey wait a minute! Yeah, you guessed it. Long lost kids^^ 

Alright speed round let's go,

Arla's kids are the Bad Batch boys(she adopted them, they have no relation to Jango. Hunter 21, Wrecker 20, Crosshair and Tech 19) Omega is 11 and her biological daughter. Her big brothers love her to death. 

Ahsoka is 19 and Rex's bff. 

Luke and Leia are also 11, and they're their parents (and Uncle Obi's, and auntie soka's) pride and joy. Anakin and Padme have basically adopted Han (15. Was in Boba's grade but got held back) as their own at this point. 

Wolffe is Cody's age, and the oldest of his brothers (Sinker, Boost, and Comet). They were put into the system (Yes, they came from Jango's DNA) and Plo Koon adopted them. When Jango and Plo first met they exchanged numbers and gushed about their children. (There is much more to that story but that's for a later post)

Ima-gun Di is an ex war general and currently married to Keeli. These two have absolutely NO role in the story whatsoever, I just love them. Jango has only met them once and it was because Ima-gun mistook Jango for Keeli at a grocery store once. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi is a tired, loving man who teaches history at a highschool and has a not so secret crush on one of his student's fathers. (He's actually taught all the Fett boy's, lord help him.)

Jaster Mereel just wants to know how his ad keeps ending up with kids. He was already confused where the first three came from but now there are 7??(Alpha-17. Oldest. Jango is more of a brother to him if anything. Fox, did not intend to be apart of this family in the slightest and that was fine up until he met Boba and they bonded. Now he's an Ori’vod?? Yeah that checks. Then of course Cody, Rex, Echo&Fives, and Boba.) Best grandfather ever.

Mando'a is a language, because I actually love it sm- 

There is so much more lore to this au than I realized, and this isn't even all of it. I fully plan on posting more, and I have a lot of art that I've done for it if I would ever get around to finishing it/posting it. Feel free to ask questions, and I hope to post more! 

(Fun fact, I accidentally deleted all of this the first time I type it. So this is the second time I've typed it- I'm not bitter.)

#boba fett #jango fett #commander cody #captain rex #din djarin #fennec shand #peli motto #cobb vanth #arc trooper echo #arc trooper fives #obi wan kenobi #arla fett #tbb omega #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #luke skywalker #leia skywalker #commander wolffe #sergeant sinker #clone trooper boost #clone trooper comet #plo koon #commander fox #alpha 17 #notthetea

[mustachecody]

INFO PAGE!

Mustache Cody Prompt Bingo!

Hello all! Sorry for the incoming wall of text, but here you can find all the important info pertaining to this prompt bingo event. We ask you to please have a read-through of this post before you submit a request for your Bingo card! It may be helpful if you have any general questions too. :)

What is a Prompt Bingo? 

A prompt bingo is where themed prompts are handed out in the form of a bingo card. In the case of our bingo, each card consists of 24 random prompts from our list, +1 free space in the middle, and you can fill them out at your own leisure/pace with the loose goal of completing one full column/row, aka a Bingo, or all the cards on your square, which would be a blackout! 

Here is an example card.

What is Mustache Cody?

We are glad you asked. 

Mustache Cody is the silly name we have come to refer to this modern Codywan AU we have created. The joke stemmed from this post here, and spiralled out of control. In this au, Cody has a mustache, and Obi-Wan does not. And they both sometimes have mullets. Cody is a shorts and socks and sandals-wearing math teacher, Obi-Wan is a very well-dressed gym teacher, and they both teach at the same high school. Other vague ideas we had is Cody and Obi both enjoy rollerblading, Quinlan is a substitute physics teacher, Yoda likes to steal people's tea in the teacher's lounge, etc…. This AU is very much Codywan, and can be quite chaotic.

If you are interested in seeing existing fan works for the AU, check out the Tumblr blogs of the admins @sunflowersinheaven and @journen(really, we have drawn a lot for it, lol), consult this master post we have created for all the content(because others have made some AMAZING content for this au as well!), or join the Mustache Cody Discord server to find all that in one location and discuss more ideas further, or just hang out! 

Why are we doing this?

Because we thought it would be fun! 😏

Posting

The window to post your works for this event opens on October 31st! We ask you to wait until then to start posting any of your completed fills. And of course, even after October 31st, you can request a card! There are no time limits to request a card or complete your fills, but likely in late December we will be closing the form and, if all goes well, resuming with a somewhat new list of prompts at some point in the new year! 

And be sure to tag us in your completed fills, which we will be reblogging! And also hashtag it #mustachecodybingo. We also have an AO3 collection where you can submit them as well. As well, be sure to include a picture of your Bingo card with the appropriate square crossed off with every completed fill(easy to do in your phone's image editor or in any drawing software!).

We are so excited to see your submissions!!

Rules

For each of your fills, Cody has to have a mustache. Or if not, the fact that he is mustache-less must be relevant somehow in how you interpret your prompt. Ie...Cody has shaved, and Obi-Wan is horrified. But we encourage you to ‘stache your Cody!

You do NOT have to stick to all of our ideas for this au exactly. Interpret the prompts however you like, no restrictions or limitations on creativity. You can bend things here and there if you have a good idea, and it suits your story. We aren't strict or picky. We just want you to have fun! We do just ask you to stick to the rough themes/guidelines of our modern high school teachers codywan au.

You have the option of swapping out any prompt with any other prompt on your sheet one time per card, and you can interpret the free space with anything you think of(however, as the first day of the Bingo is October 31st, we gently encourage you to consider Halloween as your free space prompt if you so desire!). 

You can choose whether you'd like your card to have the possibility of including some NSFW prompts(though we only have a few to include in the randomized pool). But, this does not mean you cannot interpret any of the other prompts as NSFW!

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Writing fills have no length limits, and artist fills can be as simple as a rough sketch. We don’t want to limit people from participating and want this to be a very lax and leisurely fun event, so don’t so much worry about the quality of your fills so much as that you have fun with it! 

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#codywan #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #mustache cody #star wars #fandom events #mustachecodybingo #star wars fandom events #modern au

[ao3feed-obikin]

Buns of Steel

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/41521629 by RagnarLothcat A lower back injury finds Obi-Wan in need of an intense lower body workout. Aerobics instructor Anakin is more than happy to oblige. Words: 8046, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Luminara Unduli Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gym Sex, Anal Sex, Top Obi-Wan Kenobi, Power Bottom Anakin Skywalker, implied future switching, Anakin's Ass, Slight Teacher/Student Kink read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/41521629

#IFTTT #Obikin #AO3feed #Star Wars

[soclonely]

Modern SW AU show where the only interaction we see between characters is when they are picking up there kids from school and are waiting outside in the lobby or pick up lanes.

Cody and Rex, just sitting in the school office and chatting about Cody’s daughters upcoming ballet recital. And Rex mentioning his son is getting a new pet this week, starting with a goldfish. 

Hardcase coming in and arguing with the school principal about his kid not having the proper resources to handle his ADHD and how he is tired of his son being penalized for something out of his control. 

Padme and Fox running the PTA after taking it over from the previous boardmembers and turning it around to give kids fun resources and things to do. 

A shitty superintendent named Palpatine. 

Fives the gym teacher who constantly brags about his son getting a full ride scholarship to a college for baseball. 

Hunter being the best Special Education teacher the district has ever seen. 

Crosshair getting called in to come deal with his kid who perfectly aimed a spitball right in the school principals ear 

Obi Wan the vice principal just trying to keep his shit together

Ahsoka the librarian. 

Okay I am gonna get to work on this :’))

#sw su #star wars au #star wars #OPE looks like i am starting another series of WIPS :') #star wars the clone wars

[the196thbattalion]

star wars human! high school! au

i’ve seen so many headcanons circling throughout the star wars tumblr about high school au’s, so i wanted to share my bit with all of you :D

anakin skywalker

five words: REBEL CHILD ON A MOTORCYCLE.

he doesn’t like riding the school bus because it makes him feel extremely claustrophobic, so he scrapped and scavenged up parts to make his own customized motorcycle, which he lovingly dubbed artoo.

the blue and silver detailing was the joint effort of ahsoka and obi-wan, because anakin doesn’t know how to paint.

if he can catch up to the bus, he’ll ride alongside it and flip off the students on it before revving on ahead of them. (the freshmen think it’s the funniest thing in the universe)

probably one of the most well-known juniors in the entirety of temple high school (mostly because of his shenanigans but partly because he’s dating padme fuckiNG AMIDALA, PRETTIEST GIRL IN THE DAMN SCHOOL)

he always wears this worn-down leather jacket his mom gave to him before she passed away, and refuses to take it off, even though it’s somehow “a violation of the dress code and should be outlawed.”

his hair alone has seduced eight different students (boys and girls)

sometimes during study hall, ahsoka or padme will get a hold of his hair and style it into little braids or make a super rad ponytail.

he really likes iced coffee with milk and sugar. he puts in the milk to make it nice and light (it’s aesthetically pleasing, obi-wan!), and then like eight tablespoons of sugar to make it actually taste good.

his favorite class is mechanics, taught by kit fisto.

anakin spent months on a mechanical arm project to replace his clunky plastic prosthetic, and he was so freaking happy when it was finished; he almost cried. (he did cry and ahsoka got it on video)

obi-wan kenobi

a mixture of the soft™, pretty™, hippie™, grunge™, vsco™ and nerd™ tropes.

he really likes peppermint tea with lots of honey but takes his coffee black.

he has had too much tea.

someone needs to stop him.

almost all of his classes are ap courses, and if cody hadn’t been watching when obi-wan was making his schedule, all of them would be.

him, cody and padme have ap english with mace windu, and cody knows how much his classes stress him out, so he lets obi-wan sleep during class and sends him the notes

the only ap class obi-wan doesn’t take is mechanics, and he shares that class with anakin.

anakin and obi-wan are super close with each other. kenobi was there when ahsoka was adopted, and anakin was there when kenobi got his cat. (they were like 5 okay)

“NAME IT C3PO OBI-WAN, OR I SWEAR TO FUCK-” “what kind of name is that, and why would i - anAKIN PUT HIM DOWN!?”.

mr. fisto constantly has to split them up for disrupting the class, but it’s almost like they can communicate telepathically, and the teachers have a running bet

mace windu literally bet $50 on these fucking nerds so you know it’s for realsies

in reality, they’ve just gotten super creative with passing notes.

kind of off topic, but he has these brown harry potter glasses that he uses (kinda for reading???? but mostly so he can do that anime pushing up glasses thing)

cody thinks it’s the funniest shit ever

whenever cody is feeling stressed, obi-wan just does the thing™ and BOOM! happiness.

people think he’s a goodie two shoes, and honestly, it’s really easy to think that. if the iconics are trying to do something stupid, he’s usually the voice of reason.

but parties?

…

you know what, just ask anakin for the video footage.

ahsoka tano

this hs!au ahsoka tano turned me bisexual confirmed ✔

okay before i go into her style, which is mainly what made me drool over my computer, can i just put skatergirl!ahsoka out there?

spray painting of the rebellion symbol all over the bottom of her board and on items in a couple of the places where she skates the most (like the back of an abandoned car yard)

her instagram is filled with these super cool vhs-tape recorded skate videos (u know)

lots crackhead 3am visits (starring anakin, rex, kenobi and barris) to a gas station to get slushies and grind the shit out of the curb connecting the store to the parking lot

trying to teach anakin how to skateboard but he just can’t figure it out? uh yes

“try to balance skyguy!” “HOW DO I MOVE? DO I SCOOT? SNIPS THIS ISN’T FUNNY AND I WANT TO GET OFF – GUYS, STOP LAUGHING!”

okay okay okay i’m done

for now

anyway, her style???? is so???? fucking????? cool!!!!!

her genetics gave her a 80% of having vitiligo, so it really wasn’t a surprise when patches of her skin got lighter, but it still freaked her out a little bit.

basically, went like this: “DAD, I’M TURNING WHITE!” “???? oh my gosh ‘soka, no.”

she has long braided dreadlocks she dyed a super bright orange with various colored beads woven into them with the help of anakin and padme. she usually styles them into little space buns atop her head.

her entire clothing wardrobe consists of fishnets, neon bomber jackets, at least 11 bisexual beanies™, handmade patchy jeans, white tank tops, and light-up platform shoes.

she doesn’t give two flying fucks about the dress code, and – IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MOST BUSY HALLWAY - punched principal sidious over whether or not she “could wear shorts that short” (anakin may or may not have cheered when she broke his nose).

the fetts (chuck have mercy)

*cracks le knuckles* i’ve put it off long enough

we have: fox (24), wolffe (19), cody (17), rex (17), echo (16), fives (16), boil (15), waxer (14), hardcase (13), jesse (12), longshot (8), kix (6), tup (3), gree (2) and boba (9mo)

wolffe is off at college - fox already graduated and moved out, that cheeky little fucking shit - but both still keep in good contact with the fam, and it’s a constant clamor between eleven of the siblings of who gets to talk to them first

fox majored in government/politics, bly is majoring in space/astronomy, and wolffe is majoring in police/law enforcement shit (i don’t know how college works, so sue me)

cody and rex are juniors, and despite their similar looks, the amount of schoolwork each of them completes drastically varies

cody is the honor roll student, valedictorian, whatever you want to call it

rex kinda just either does the work really well or 9/10 times gets distracted by anakin or ahsoka sending him some nice spicy memes

cody tried to tutor rex but it ended up almost landing tup in the hospital

“that’s really simple, actually. if you – vod? rex, are you okay? what are you oH NO TUP DON’T PUT THAT IN YOUR MOUTH-”

fetts on the varsity football team is like a right of passage in the family

right now, only the juniors of the fett family are on the team, but the coach has eyes on fives and echo for next years team

SPEAKING OF

echo, fives and boil are the infamous sophomore trio that pulled the milk bucket prank on the gym teacher, pong krell.

they had to help the janitor (99) clean up afterwards, but they genuinely enjoyed 99’s company, because he’s rad as shit and knows all the secret school passageways.

to be honest, not one person (except maybe sidious) was complaining

that motherfucker makes everyone run like eight laps during gym class

even mr. windu gives them a small smile in the hallways after that

boil says he was blackmailed into it

waxer is a freshman (the poor dude, i’m so sorry), and he always looks out for the nervous freshies

if someone is having a bad day, he’ll give them a lollipop (he carries around a whole bag), a place to sit during lunch, and a shoulder to cry on

all you need to do to find waxer is to locate this long ass line of children

the school counselor, plo koon, sometimes brings his niece numa into school during the day because he can’t find a babysitter, and waxer. fucking. loves. her. PERIOD.

w+n pull these tiny little pranks on teachers, and the staff pretends not to notice, but numa always giggles and gives them away.

boil has a soft spot for numa too, and sneaks her rice krispies.

bonus shit i want to add in but can’t figure out where to put it (or i’m just gonna add it on and shit)

plo koon adopted anakin after his mother died (him and anakin’s mother were good friends), and found ahsoka on the side of the street, shivering like a maniac.

he doesn’t know where ahsoka came from, but he loves her so gOD DAMN MUCH.

he’s the school counselor, and still keeps in touch with a lot of students even after the graduated (he thinks that majoring in law enforcement/police is a bit dangerous for wolffe but he still supports his unofficial but basically son 100%)

yoda is the super old but radically rad english teacher.

his entire point of existence in my mind fic is to troll the shit out of palpatine.

a recent conversation starring yoda and palps: “did you give the students the mountain of extra work i assigned them?” “for the students, that was?” i’m sorry. my bad, that is.” “this is the seventh time, yoda.”

okay but for real

mace windu violently roots for the school football team.

“BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF HIM, CODY! YOU TOO...OTHER CODY!”

“THAT’S A HOLDING! THAT’S A HOLDING!”

“REF IF YOU DON’T COUNT THAT TOUCHDOWN THEN I SWEAR TO SAMUEL L. JACKSON I WILL COME DOWN THERE AND BEAT YOUR SORRY PINSTRIPED ASS!”

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #swtcw #human au #high school au #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #obi-wan kenobi #padme amidala #mace windu #plo koon #yoda #darth sidious #nala #okay #whew #now all the fetts #commander fox #commander cody #commander rex #captain rex #echo #fives #boil #waxer #hardcase #longshot #jesse #tup #196 hc

[sandfordsmostwanted]

Star Wars College AU Headcanons - Prequel Edition (+ Ahsoka)

Anakin 1. Is a scholarship student, and is determined to make the faculty regret that decision, by wearing pyjamas to each and every lecture (that he bothers to attend). 2. Never studies for exams, but somehow always aces them. 3. Diet consists entirely of take-out and Red Bull (sometimes protein shakes if he’s feeling healthy). 4. Part of at least three school sports teams and a dedicated gym lad. 5. Watches true crime documentaries until 3 in the morning and then can’t sleep. 6. The only one who can drive. 7. Only drinks the most obnoxiously sugary and neon-coloured alcopops. 8. Volunteers at the local homeless shelter and takes it surprisingly seriously. 9. Applies for extensions after assignments are due because he’s “just really going through it right now”. 10. Hacks into the school computers to change all the backgrounds to Nicholas Cage on April Fool’s Day (and secretly gives all the final year students free printing credit). Padme 1. Has an immaculate stationary collection including a perfect rainbow of pastel highlighters. 2. Always does the extra reading, and sets up study groups to discuss the course and swap notes. 3. Spends her entire allowance on a pair of Gucci shoes and lives on ramen for the rest of the month. 4. Sorority sister who knows almost everyone on campus, and somehow remembers everyone’s birthday, including the cleaners. 5. Has about eight photos on her Instagram with her posing on a staircase with a glass of prosecco. 6. Hosts a weekly Stitch-And-Bitch where students can come and have some snacks and tea and talk about how they’re feeling whilst knitting; Obi-Wan is a big fan.  7. Student Council representative who goes to every meeting with a binder full of collected grievances. 8. Has a study blog where she shares her technique for getting perfect grades, and her impeccable skincare routine. 9. Plans political protests with Bail and Satine in her spare time. 10. Gets pregnant at the end of her final year but keeps going and brings her newborn twins to graduation to hear her valedictorian speech. Obi-Wan 1. Incredibly frazzled postgraduate; has like 3 jobs + teaching assistant duties + his course work. 2. Dresses like a professor even though he’s still a student – tweed jacket with elbow patches, leather satchel and shoes, sweater vests in every colour of the rainbow. 3. Drinks “tea” but half of the time it’s just whiskey in a travel mug (the other half is when Qui-Gon buys him some fancy brew from the campus café). 4. Somehow always has perfect hair.   5. Spends hours in the library but never seems to find what he’s looking for. 6. Submits his assignments five minutes before they’re due because he was up all night proof-reading someone else’s. 7. Is a vegetarian for “ethical reasons” (aka because of Satine and Qui-Gon) but ends up stress eating chicken nuggets with Anakin biweekly. 8. Is in the club at 3am and the student council meeting at 8am, looking none the worse for wear. 9. Walks around in a blanket/dressing gown during finals week, mumbling to himself and reading flashcards. 10. Halfway through term you realise he’s been doing a double major this entire time. Ahsoka 1. Only wears gym clothes, even in the dead of winter. 2. Makes notes in gel pen then gets annoyed when they smudge. 3. Will argue with the obnoxious smart kid for half the class. 4. Has the coolest collection of colourful hijabs and wears them with pride. 5. Owns fifteen water bottles but keeps losing them. 6. Gets tattoos because she’s bored but the work always looks super beautiful. 7. Works part time as a barista so knows everyone’s coffee order but no-one’s name. 8. Kisses her girlfriend in front of homophobic professors. 9. Makes box brownies whenever her friends are sad and brings them to study sessions in the little flimsy cardboard box. 10. Is best friends with the campus cat and takes photos with it every time she sees it. Qui-Gon 1. The Dad Professor who everyone comes to when they’re worried.   2. Incredible teacher but his academic papers are just… incomprehensible.   3. Takes students outside for classes that turn into walking tours of the campus where he points out all the foliage and local features. 4. Doesn’t reply to emails because it’s “bad for the environment” so will just appear behind you with answers to your question. 5. Accent will send you to sleep if you have an early/late lecture. 6. Has eighteen pot plants all over his office and sometimes carries a little cactus in his pocket. 7. Office is up four flights of stairs and at the very end of the corridor because he “likes the view” (i.e. the rest of the department are sick of his shit and need the space). 8. Owns the campus cat and it comes with him to and from home by curling up in the little basket on the front of his bicycle. 9. Has about fifteen boxes of tea just around his office and a biscuit tin that’s always full. 10. Is the local weed dealer on the dl.

#star wars #star wars prequels #star wars college au #star wars modern au #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #ahsoka tano #qui gon jinn #let me know if you want to see more

[sistersofthelightforce]

Facing Facts: The Diplomat

He supposes it’s fair that Padme still is angry at him. Of all people, she probably has the most right to be.

After that first mission, things change a little. She doesn’t leave the moment he arrives in Luke or Ahsoka’s chambers.

“Anakin, just in time, I was about to put on some tea,” Ahsoka chirps. She bustles into the kitchen, leaving Anakin and Padme in the lounge together.

Normally, Padme would make excuses and leave, but today, she stays seated and gives him a small smile. “How are you today, General Skywalker?”

“I’m doing well, I guess.” Anakin rubs the back of his neck. “How are you?”

“Busy, but well. Trying to set up the New Republic from beyond the grave isn’t an easy task.” Her tone is casual, but Anakin feels like there is a bite to it.

The silence between the two of them is horrendous. Anakin feels frustrated. They used to be able to talk for hours, or spend equally as much time simply enjoying each other’s company. Now that bond is ruined, and Anakin-

Anakin is furious with himself for it. It’s all his fault, all because of his actions. He misses his wife, and he knows he’s going to have to work hard to even have a chance of her forgiveness.

The old Anakin would blame her, would be angry and insist none of this was his fault, that everyone should be nicer to him about it.

Now, he knows better.

(But he doesn’t understand until a lot later why Padme smiles so widely when Ahsoka comes in, curls up against Anakin and informs him, “you’re warm.”)

It’s not always good. Padme is under a lot of stress trying to help Queen Karee get everything under control. She seems very pressured, and Ahsoka often murmurs with her in soft Boona. (He knows the difference between Boona and Asna now. Boona is more flowing, and sounds quite elegant. Asna is more guttural, but just as beautiful in Anakin’s opinion.)

He supposes he was bound to misstep at one point.

It’s just an ordinary day when he bursts into Ahsoka’s chambers, only to find them silent, except for Padme.

Padme is sitting with tears running down her face, clutching a holo of a baby girl- Leia, he assumes.

“Padme?” He asks softly.

She whirls around to look at him, her distress growing.”You!”

Anakin isn’t sure what to do so he stays silent.

“This is all your fault! Everything is your fault!” Padme shrieks. “I missed everything! Their first words, their first smiles, their first steps! I didn’t get any of that! I didn’t get to raise them because of you!”

Oh. Oh no.

“You took everything from me! I finally get Ahsoka back and you’ve broken her. You kill her time after time and still she forgives you? You left her to rot on some Sith poodoohole!” Padme shouts, fists balling at her side. “How could you?”

“Padme I-” He begins, but she cuts him off.

“I know! I know you’re sorry! I know Palpatine manipulated you. He manipulated everyone! I was the one who put him in power for force’s sake! But that doesn’t excuse what you did. You can’t just come back here and expect everything to be fine!” Padme is sobbing now, anger radiating off of her in the force.

“I didn’t,” he says softly, not quite talking to her.

“You did! You did! And I get everything is fine with Ahsoka, and whatever the hell went on with Obi-Wan, you guys seem fine now. But we were married! We were married and I’ve spent the majority of the time I’ve known you trying to fight you, trying to clean up what you’ve destroyed!” Padme lets out an anguished sob. “We were married and you tried to kill me. You used the force to strangle me and you didn’t even think of what could have happened to the twins!”

Anakin doesn’t like to think about that day on Mustafar. He feels so guilty. “I should never have used violence upon anyone I care about. Especially my wife. That was the worst thing I could have done-”

“YOU MURDERED CHILDREN!” Padme shrieks. “YOU’VE DONE SO MANY AWFUL THINGS. AND NOW I’M NOT EVEN ALLOWED TO BE ANGRY AT YOU!”

Ahsoka comes in at this point. “Mom? Dad? What’s going on?”

“Everything was getting better.” Padme sounds so quiet, so broken. “Why did he have to come back?”

“Oh Mom.” Ahsoka sends a quick look to Anakin (he wonders, later, if it is to make sure he isn’t going to destroy anything), but he makes a gesture towards Padme, and Ahsoka wraps her arms around her mother. Padme murmurs brokenly into Ahsoka’s shoulder. “I know Mom, I know.”

Ahsoka comes after him later.

“I’m fine,” he says sharply.

“She’s been bottling it up for a while. She should have talked to you and processed it, she should have talked to one of us about it, but she didn’t,” Ahsoka explained.

“I deserved it, it’s fine,” Anakin replies firmly.

Ahsoka tucks her head against his shoulder. “It’s all so complicated. She’s right to be angry at you, I can’t be mad at her for that. But you’re still my dad, and I hate you guys fighting.”

Anakin nods. “It’s ok that she’s mad. It’s fair.” He presses a kiss to Ahsoka’s forehead. “I think I’ll leave her be for a bit. I’ll give you guys space for a couple weeks, then I might just give her space at family stuff. I think letting her cool off might be the best plan.”

“Like after senate debates.” Ahsoka laughs.

Anakin chuckles earnestly. “Just like after senate debates.”

So he spends the next two weeks avoiding Padme as much as possible, then at family nights, he sits away from her and tries to be as out of her way as possible.

Anakin decides the best way to get through this is just to spend time with his kids, so he goes to meet Ahsoka at the gym. He freezes when he sees Padme.

She’s sitting on the bench while Ahsoka practises with a training droid a distance away. His daughter slices through it with ease, then puts it back together with her magic and goes again.

Padme is on her holopad when Anakin sits down beside her. “You know, she’s always been good with those things,” he muses.

“She certainly has. Her lightsaber skills are among the best.” Padme looks up and smiles gently. “She had a good teacher.”

Anakin chuckles a little and sighs. “Look, Padme, I know that I’m probably the last person you want hanging around-”

“Can you blame me?” She interjects.

“No! That’s what I’m saying!” He says quickly. “I don’t blame you, you have every right to hate me. And I’m truly sorry. I’ve done horrible things, and I promise I’ll spend every day trying to make up for it.”

Padme’s eyes are calculating, then a dangerous grin appears on her face. “Spar with me.”

“What?!” Anakin replies, sure he’s heard her wrong.

“You heard me, General Skywalker. Spar with me, and if you even get close to beating me, maybe I’ll consider forgiving you,” Padme explains.

“I-um- if you’re sure.” Anakin gets up, and follows Padme to a space nearby.

Ahsoka looks over at them and sighs before grinning. “Ota.”

“Here, Obi-Wan always insists I carry a spare lightsaber. I’ll go easy on you.” Anakin passes her his spare blade, tone genuine. He doesn’t want to hurt or humiliate Padme.

Padme smirks. “Oh, I’m quite sure I’ll be fine, General Skywalker.’

Padme pulls out her own lightsaber, and the blade glows a deep purple, more blue than Master Windu’s magenta blade.

Ah. Alright then.

Padme swings and Anakin has to move quickly to block it. She strikes again and parries quickly.

Padme stays at his level, striking forcefully and blocking everything Anakin throws at him.

Padme is good. Better than good. She could beat some of the best in the order, Anakin thinks.

Her style is disciplined, but forceful. She moves quickly, and adapts just as fast. It’s not a style he recognises. He guesses she’s had some formal training, but has otherwise learned through experience. It makes her skilled though, possibly even more than him.

Soon the two are in a lock, blades pressed together, both of them gritting their teeth in effort.

Padme pushes his blade out the way, throwing off Anakin’s balance and his blade skitters to the side.

Anakin falls backward, and Padme has her blade at his chest, a triumphant smirk on her face.

“Alright, you win!” Anakin concedes, putting his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender.

Padme puts her lightsaber away and offers him her hand. He takes it, and she pulls him up.

“I’m going to guess you’re a Sister, aren’t you?” Anakin asks.

“One of the originals, just like Ahsoka,” Padme replies with a laugh.

Anakin looks over at his daughter, who is cackling. “Did you know about this?” He demands, but his tone is light.

“Of course she did. She helped teach me to use a lightsaber, Anakin,” Padme explains.

“Your face when she pulled out her lightsaber!” Ahsoka exclaims while laughing.

“Yeah, yeah. I should have known. Come on, let’s go get something to eat.” Anakin slings an arm around the still-snickering Ahsoka.

Padme gives him a fond look. “Sounds good to me. I could kill for some shurra fruit right now.”

He decides not to doubt that.

Iith has an official ball every year, and now the war is over, it appears people can afford to focus on it (much to its queen’s despair).

Padme obviously, as one of Iith’s top advisors, organises a great deal with it, and her eyes shine with pride on the night.

His children are happily talking to other people their age, others of a new generation of Jedi (and some of the old generation, in Ahsoka’s case).

He watches Ahsoka talking with the old apprentice of Master Billaba, Kanan, as he’s now called. He walks up and puts a hand on Ahsoka’s arm. “Hey kiddo, who’s this?”

Ahsoka rolls her eyes and smiles at him. “This is Kanan Jarrus, Sister Syndulla’s husband. Kanan, this is my father, Anakin Skywalker.”

Kanan looks at him with wide eyes and Anakin braces himself for the reaction he’s become quite used to getting. “General Skywalker. It’s an honour,” he says breathlessly.

Anakin almost has to steady himself. It’s been a very long time since anybody has reacted positively to meeting him. “Pleasure’s all mine. And please, call me Anakin.”

He chats with them for a bit, then he spots Padme being interrogated by some old lord. To anyone who knows her well, she looks horrendously annoyed at his questioning, but she seems to be keeping her cool.

He nudges Ahsoka through their bond, and she looks where he is looking out the corner of her eye.

“Hey Dad, maybe you should go rescue Mom,” she jokes.

“You’re right. See you round, Kanan.” He pats the starstruck man on the shoulder and walks over to where Padme is standing.

And suddenly he feels like that padawan again, baring his soul.

On reflection, the way he spoke on Naboo all that time ago back then was odd. He was just a kid and truly, he didn’t actually know Padme then, and he was way too forward about it. He’s glad it worked, but it was still weird.

He’ll do it right this time, if she still wants him.

“Sister Amidala, may I have the honour of a dance?” He shifts awkwardly, barely looking up at Padme.

When he does look, she seems relieved, in her diplomatic way. “I would be happy to oblige, General Skywalker.”

Anakin offers his hand, which she takes with all the grace of the Queen she once was.

She leads them both to the dance floor, and they slip easily into the dance, swaying side to side, and Anakin watches those around them stare. He decides he doesn’t care.

“Sorry for all that. He looked like he was being a sleemo so I thought I’d-” he stammers.

“Anakin. It’s fine. Thank you,” Padme says gently but firmly.

The silence isn’t uncomfortable this time. They sway, and he spins Padme, then almost falls backwards when he brings her back in. Padme very subtly uses the force to keep him balanced.

“Thanks,” he mutters.

Padme laughs softly. “You’re welcome.”

They get back into such a natural rhythm that it reminds him of the days in Padme’s apartment on Coruscant, where they’d play music and just dance the night away.

He supposes she must be thinking the same thing, because she rests her head on his shoulder, then starts back, remembering where they are.

“Hey-hey, it’s alright,” Anakin says quickly, as Padme looks horrified. “I don’t mind.”

“I- I just forgot,” Padme stammers. “I just-” she sighs. “Just because I’m angry at you doesn’t mean I don’t miss the time we spent together,” Padme admits.

“I miss it too,” Anakin confesses. “I did awful things. I’m trying to make it better. Our family-” he glances around at his kids, who, though scattered about the room, are all staring at them, “-are the most important thing to me. I’m so glad to finally have the chance to be with them.” He looks over at Obi-Wan, who is dancing with Satine. “I have my kids, and my brother, and I’ll do everything I can to fight for them.”

When he looks back at Padme, she is beaming. “It is good to be a family, finally, and not have to hide anything anymore.”

He meets her eyes, and smiles.

Kissing Padme feels like coming home.

—-

Ota- Mother/Mum (Boona)

#facing facts series #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #anidala #Ahsoka Tano #Star Wars #Star Wars AU

[plexflexico]

OBI WAN SHOT - BAD BATCH PLUS EDITION - PART 3.5 - WRECKER TWO: Establishing some plot stuff.

Warnings: Canon-typical discussions of the treatment of clones. Allusions to nefarious plots. No smut. 

Notes: I needed to set this AU aside for a bit, but I had this pretty much already written out by hand so I figured I’d get it posted since otherwise there’s no new content! (Yes, I am a terrible author who has not been writing nearly enough. Soon, though, my lovely readers! SOON!

Characters: Wrecker, Force Sensitive Reader

“Did they really make you promise not to let me out of your sight?” 

You’re laying together with the firelight dancing across your skin, his head pillowed on your breast, his arm around you and one leg thrown over yours.

“Yeah,” he says with a hint of grumpiness. “Rex was about to blow a coil. Never heard him so mad. The rest of ‘em just followed along.” 

“Rex was just worried he’d have to tell Anakin he’d lost me.” 

“Skywalker?” he lifts his head and gives you a look of surprised shock. “Are you and him—” He’s suddenly very nervous about the possibility that he had just made love with a general’s side-piece.

“Maker, no!” You laugh and his face relaxes, then he nuzzles into your breast, kissing you lightly before laying his head back down with a contented sigh. “He’s a happily married man. I’m no shy virgin but I’m not that kind of girl. Anakin’s been training me— or, I guess, training with me.” 

“You train with a general?” He’s impressed, and you’re wondering how much your answer is about to burst his bubble. 

“He’s— with the work I do there’s concern that I might become compromised, or that someone might find a way to— I guess ‘break in’ is the best way to put it.” Your hand trails along his shoulder as you admire the muscles of his back. “I think, too, that the Council is curious. No one knows how I am the way I am. If I could— If the force sensitivity wasn’t trapped behind a wall I’d be a Jedi without a doubt, they say. If they can find a way in then they can find out why I'm— whatever I am. In the meantime, Anakin takes advantage of being unable to read me while he continues my combat training. It’s a challenge for him both as a fighter and a teacher. "

***

“You have to try.” Anakin is frustrated. Not with you, but with his own limitations. 

“Anakin, you’re asking me to move a limb I don’t have. I want to move it, but it’s not there.” You’re frustrated, too. You’ve been at this for hours now. 

Raising his cybernetic arm he wiggles the fingers, “If it was a limb that wouldn't be a problem." He sounds thoughtful, and that always makes you nervous. 

"You're not stuffing my head with cybernetics." 

He looks up from his hand, face breaking into a wide and reassuring smile, "No, I'm not. We've already poked around in there enough." 

It had been enough. More than enough. In the beginning you had been subjected to a series of exploratory neurosurgeries to see if there was anything that the scans weren't picking up.

They tried "truth serums", hypnotics, tranquilizers, anti-psychotics and every other drug they could think of— and then yet more surgery followed all of that to make sure nothing had changed. 

When they had suggested a corpus callosotomy, bisecting your brain to isolate the two hemispheres from one another, you had balked. They assured you they could reverse it, reattach the connections, but the slim chance that you would lose the fighting and espionage skills you had worked so hard to develop had you putting your foot down. No more. If they want to try they can keep trying through other means, but no more of this. 

So you had begun to train with Skywalker, learning how to read and interpret the subtle ripples in the force as it flowed around and through you and learning how to fight force users effectively as he did his best to help you try to break through the wall around your mind.

***

“You’re showing your opponent your next move again. Concentrate!” Anakin is standing opposite you in the ring on the gym’s floor, training saber in hand, waiting for you to attack. 

From the edge of the gym comes, “*Beep-beep-boop— squelch-boop-beep*”, as Anakin’s astromech droid, R2-D2 comes to your defence. 

“Thank you, R2. I thought so, too. Maybe your Master can admit I winged him with that last attack once he’s calmed his temper?” 

“I thought you were on my side, R2,” grouses the Jedi. 

You take your position again, studying his stance and wondering if you can convincingly feint the right to try an attack with your non-dominant hand. 

Just as you’re about to make your move the gym door flies open, two stunningly beautiful and rambunctious children spilling into the space and immediately running to their father, yelling mock war cries as they go for his legs to bring him down. 

Training is over for the day and you’re not one bit sorry as you watch him dramatically fold under their assault. You had no plans for children or family yourself, but you cherished the rare times you could spend with Anakin, Padme, and their twins. They were always surrounded by such joy and so much love. 

***

Wrecker trails his fingers across your belly, following the curves and dips, “Do you ever think about what your life would be like if this war never happened?” 

“I’d still be out there at the edge of everything, the great disk of the galaxy on one side and the blackness of empty space on the other, probably insane from the noise of it all. If the Jedi hadn’t found me, thought that I might be useful and helped me understand and deal with what was happening— I don’t think I would have made it this long.” 

He props himself up on his elbow, looking down at you, his eyes soften and he leans in to kiss you. 

“If the war never happened I wouldn’t be— I just wouldn’t be. None of my vod’e would be here—” He pauses to kiss you again, taking his time with it, making your head swim. 

A feeling of longing, tinged with something shaded darker. Guilt? 

"I feel it, too," you whisper to him when he trails his lips away from yours to press soft kisses to your cheek, your temple. "I feel guilty to be grateful for any of this godawful mess, for the few good things to have come out of it. The cost— It's been so high for so little, but without it—"

"Without it I wouldn't have let you go," he mumbles into your neck between tender licks and nibbles. 

"You never would have had me to hold onto in the first place, and we wouldn't be here now. You wouldn't be here now, and that— I wouldn't like that at all." 

"You don't love me, right? I mean, I don't think you do. I don't love you— I— this isn’t coming out right—" He's flustered but he's not drawing away and he's not internally berating himself. A distinct improvement, you think. 

"It's coming out just fine. No, I don't love you. I didn't expect that you would love me, either, but I do like you. I like the man you are and I admire you as a soldier and a comrade in arms— and lying here with you, in front of the fire with the stars above— it's nice. It feels good. You feel good."

"I like you, too. You're smart, you're braver than I thought you would be— and you make me feel like — like it's okay. Like I'm okay." He sighs and then bring his forehead to touch yours, closing his eyes, "I— I feel like— I'm remembering how to do something— and I didn't know that I already know how—" 

"You’ve all had so much taken from you. They tried to steal your humanity and then when they discovered that wasn’t as easy as they thought it would be they let you think the little rebellions— the names, the tattoos, the decorated armor— they made you think that's what was missing, and that there wasn’t anything else they’d kept from you. That if there was a hole it was because you were broken. It was abuse, nothing more than terrible, unconscionable abuse. You were children and they treated you like machines. Everyone involved should rot in the Maw, as far as I’m concerned.” 

His eyes open, he searches your gaze, “Even the Jedi?” 

“Especially them. They should have known better. They did know better.” Your voice carries the bitterness of a long-simmering resentment. 

“But— you work with them. Why?” 

“I want to see an end to this conflict, and their side is the one that’s the least wrong at the moment. I guess I could ask you the same question, though. After everything, why did all of you choose to stay on?” 

He sits up, reaching out to stroke your cheek, his face soft and a bit sad, “We lost so many brothers, we wanted to do something to make it right, make it matter. We couldn’t let ‘em go without—” He pauses, searching for the right words. “—Without finishing what we all started together. Right or wrong, we had a purpose— have a purpose. Ending the war. So that’s what we’re gonna to do.”

“I wonder if they realized exactly what they did when they requested that Jango Fett be involved in your training. He’s a bastard hut’uun— I’ll see him in a very dark prison if I get my way— but he taught you that giving up is antithetical to being a warrior and then they went and made you warriors of the highest calibre. It’s been bred into your bones.” 

“Why would you— Why hate him? How can you think he was a coward?” Wrecker’s forehead creases in concern. The echoes within him clamour that if you see his progenitor as a coward then that must also be something you could see in him.

“He knew what was done to you. He was there, with you all, as it was being done. He participated in it willingly.” Your voice is rising and you take a moment to breathe and gain some control. “He called you livestock and slaves, did you know that? The Kaminoans recorded almost everything within their facilities. I’ve seen the data, seen the holos. He knew and he didn’t care enough to even try to stop it. Some father he turned out to be. Even when he did care— Well, look how Boba turned out.” 

“How does that make him a coward?” 

“He knew, he hated it, and he let it happen anyway because it was easier than fighting for you. He refused to take any risk in order to do the right thing. He wasn’t happy when he called you slaves, it hurt him, but he let it go on because it was easier. Your bravery is your own. All of you. It didn’t come from Jango. That’s all you. Everything good in all of you— and there is so much that is good, and kind, and noble— that has nothing to do with him and everything to do with who you are as men. Not copies— men with your own minds and hearts.” 

"Hmmmm, I wouldn't share that with Cody," he says gently. 

"I have no intention of doing so. I understand how he feels, I suppose. No one likes to think a parent they idolized didn't do right by them."

"It's complicated, isn't it? Always so complicated." Wrecker lays down again beside you, lifting you gently to settle against his muscular chest.

"Life is usually complicated. Rarely is it ever just one way or the other when it comes to people." You nuzzle into him, feeling warm and secure as his arms come around you, mindful of your shoulder. 

“So why’d you go through so much info from Kamino? They try to keep anything that happened there real quiet, but you know more of what went on than we do.” 

“I need to. It’s that simple. We were here to hunt down a holdout, but the intel I was sent here to find wasn’t just about the base or who was in it.” You pause here for a moment, brow furrowed, trying to get this just right or it’s going to cause a lot of undue distress. “The Kaminoans quit making soldiers when it all came out, but that doesn’t mean the remnants of Sheev’s loyal bootlickers have lost interest in the program.” 

“The Kaminoans aren’t going to make a deal with anyone without explicit approval, they can’t.” You could almost swear he’s feigning his confusion if it weren't for the fact that you do genuinely feel it coming from him. Still, there was something sliding around beneath. Like a sea creature in the dark, waiting. “That still isn’t explaining why you had access to so much information that’s usually off limits.” 

“Like I keep saying, I can’t read minds. I can’t reach in and look for something. I can’t get the shape of the mind that’s whispering to me without knowing something about what they’ve seen, what they know. I told Tech it’s like having a dream that someone else is dreaming for you. If you can’t place the images there’s no context, no sense to a lot of it. When people are just going about their days it’s all flowing along in the background. The mind is making connections and discarding them without conscious control. It’s chaotic. Their past is like a beacon— or a lexicon. It keeps me on track and helps me understand what I’m feeling.” You sigh and pull back a bit to look at him. “If I’m going to be looking for the remnants of what happened on Kamino, I need to understand everything that happened there. All of it. Only then can I be sure that I’m making the right connections.” 

“So, you think someone is making— more of us? We— there might be more of us?” Horror, sadness, curiosity— and a longing to bring more brothers into the fold.

They didn’t always like each other— It would be madness to think that three million men could all get along— but they not only acknowledged they were brothers they felt it in their bones. All of them did. They didn’t always like that, either, but it was a fact for them as much as gravity or the existence of stars.

“I don’t know. We don’t have any hard evidence. There have been disappearances. A few clones going missing and some scientists— two who specialize in embryonic defects and one who specializes in fertility medicine— but who’s to say it’s not just the normal background noise of missing people you’d find in a group of millions who have been deeply traumatized by years of abuse and years of fighting a war that wasn’t really their own? The whole thing stinks but there’s nothing concrete to go on. Friends and family will swear they had no reason to disappear, but you know how people view clones.” Frowning, you lean your forehead into his chest, wishing you could just figure this out and frustrated that you lost the chance to discover what that facility was doing here in the jungle.

“There’s been nothing— no news about this,” he mused. 

“It’s being kept quiet. The Council doesn’t want to tip their hand— but at the same time they’re all too aware it means we can’t warn anyone. Every day counts— sometimes it feels like every minute matters.” You try to shrug and it pulls at your injured shoulder, making you draw in your breath with a hiss. 

Immediately Wrecker’s full attention is on you, wordlessly helping you settle comfortably against him. It never ceases to amaze that people can’t see how deliberate he is in his movements, always. Even when he’s breaking trail or busting through a line of enemy troops he makes no movements that are unnecessary, and none that do not have a well defined aim. Here, with you, that precision is channeled into gentleness and care. 

No, it isn’t love. You’ve never put much stock in that kind of thing, anyway. It’s impossible, in your position, to entertain those feelings so it’s never been a concern. This, though— this might be even better. There’s an easy intimacy with Wrecker that you’ve not felt before. There’s no artifice, no desire for something ‘more exciting’ or twisted just a little this way or that. Just this, you and him and nothing in between you, was more than enough. 

Pulling him in for a kiss softens his gaze and makes him look younger, dreamier. The heat between you builds, but neither of you are in a rush. Here, under the stars, time is standing still for a little while, just for the two of you. 

#obi wan shot au #clone wars wrecker #clone wars wrecker x reader #star wars fic #clone wars fic

[strad-214]

Saturday, 06/13/2020 Teaching/Learning:

“There is no Ignorance, there is Knowledge.”

-- The Jedi Code

“A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense, never for attack.”

-- Master Yoda, Star Wars Episode V, Empire Strikes Back

 On this subject, in general, I can say with confidence that I am somewhat of a proficient. I am currently attending college in the efforts of becoming a music teacher. It’s been a very long and difficult journey for me, full of self doubt, wandering thoughts and disassociation, with my fiancée sometimes being my only comfort and relief for many years. But now, my goals are on the horizon, I stand firm in my beliefs, and when I look behind me at the journey it took to get here, I marvel at my progress and am proud… despite the sub-par attitudes concerning my progress by my fellow teacher candidates. I am reminded of the Legends story of Obi-Wan leaving the Jedi Order and returning to the Jedi Order. The novels of the Jedi Apprentice Series, written by Jude Watson, describe the stories of Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon’s partnership, rocky as it is, and the difficulties that Obi-Wan had with overcoming his shadows to become a Jedi Knight. Obi-Wan and I share that altered rout kind of path on our careers, our mentors taking extreme pride in our progress simply because it was our progress, and yet our peers believed we could do better, be better, and should change our routs. And yet, those who are most important to our success believe we are models of our fields… something that makes me want to cry whenever a professor expresses that view to me, just because I have suffered so much at my own hands and have come so far… But enough of my self-promotion, let’s talk about a Jedi’s Education.

First, it would be prudent to discuss some finer points of education as a whole: the highest level of learning, according to Bloom’s Taxonomy, is “Creation”. We as people learn best by sitting down and doing things, not by memorizing information out of context and repeating that information back. George Lucas—a savant of the education field himself, believe it or not— once described the best way to learn how to make a shoe. If you were a shoe maker’s apprentice, your master would give you the materials necessary to make the shoe, and send you to the corner of the shop to attempt to make one. You will fail, dozens of times, but, with every failure, you learn more and more how to not make a shoe. In doing so, you inadvertently become an expert on what it doesn’t take to make a shoe; therefore, every time you do make a shoe, the shoes you craft will be perfect. It is up to the master to take the results of your labors and criticize it so you can learn what you did wrong, what changes you need to make, show you how to make those changes, and give you more time and resources to try again. This is the perfect learning environment, because, by jumping to the creation level, you must already apply all the other levels: Remembering, Understanding, Applying, Analyzing, and Evaluating, in that order from the bottom up. You need to remember the instructions you were given and all the other roadblocks you have arrived at already, you need to understand what those instructions are supposed to mean at this juncture and why those various roadblocks occurred, you need to apply what you already know to make progress based off of those instructions and those other failures, you need to analyze your progress based off of your previous attempts to make adjustments, then evaluate your work based off of that analysis, and now you have created a shoe. This hierarchy is the same model basically used by every master-apprentice pairing throughout known history, and can be applied to a classroom as well if the teacher constructs their lessons properly… but we won’t get into that here, I could easily write 5 pages on that alone. Let’s just focus on master-apprentice situations, since that is the majority of the instances we get in Star Wars. I will be most exclusively drawing on my personal experiences as a teacher in training and The Jedi Path.

According to The Jedi Path, Youngling Initiates are organized into Clans that act as their families. These Clans all have similar personalities and ambitions. They attend classes together and learn from each other as they go. The morning classes are for studies of the Force, followed by politics and history, and finally physical training in the afternoon. On top of this, they must meditate at least five times a day on the subjects they have been studying. I would’ve swapped the morning instruction for the afternoon instruction—the Force in the afternoon and the physical exercise in the morning—due to the fact that we all tend to crash in the afternoon. But, perhaps this is to build that impossible endurance that Jedi seem to have. And studies on the Force and its application are very important for the Jedi; perhaps doing those studies in the morning is more affective since this is when we tend to be more motivated to work (once awoken properly). The many facets of the Force that they study will go into my next essay: The Force, which happens to be the first of three pillars of learning the Jedi classify their education by.

This model of learning is similarly based off of a secondary school system: multiple classes scheduled at specific times of day and independent study hours to be pursued on the students’ time. Applying this kind of system to students so young will immediately instill an early sense of responsibility and self investment in the disciplines being delivered. They will have been rushing to get where they go on time since they can remember, they have been independently pursuing their fields of study outside the classroom for long periods of time, multiple times a day since they can remember. This isn’t the worst way to instill a deep root of responsibility and desire to grow early on, so long as the classes are long, varied in instruction, and the students don’t have to change the classes too many times. If the classes are too short, constantly changing rooms and teachers—say, every 30 minutes or so like in High School— and are static in the lesson delivery methods, there will be a drastic loss of information. In our public school system in America, students need consistency in their routines to retain knowledge, which is part of the reason why we don’t consistently change classrooms until later years. At this age range, 3 years to 12 years, we stay in the same classroom for the majority of our day, save for meal times, recess, and extracurricular activities such as gym, art, and music. That’s four different class changes provided you only have one extracurricular class a day. According to the Jedi Order model, there are only three classes and five independent study sessions. Those three classes are all required and the students are expected to meditate on their own time at least 5 times a day. Let’s assume that the three classes do not add up to the amount of time as a 6-7 hour school day, that would be ludicrous, even by Jedi standards. Let’s say more or less, that the classes are about an hour and a half long each, with time in between for meditation, studying, and food. There would be plenty of time throughout the day to get done all that an Initiate would need to get done: Meditation, study, and calisthenics including lightsaber practice. This also provides a variety in activities that will keep the Initiates engaged and focused. Speaking of the latter, a Jedi Initiate only practices the First Form of lightsaber combat, the Shi-Cho or the way of the Sarlacc. This is the most basic of swordplay that the Jedi practice, a foundation upon which all the other forms are taught. As a musician in training, nobody understands having foundations better than I. If you can’t play a simple major scale on your instrument, you can’t hope to perform a whole concerto—a major solo work written specifically for a proficient to show off their expertise. Similarly, if you can’t parry a simple horizontal slice, you can’t possibly practice Form II, Makashi or Form III, Soresu, the first of which focuses exclusively on saber to saber combat and the second of which is a form meant for defense against multiple enemies or to fend off an aggressive attacker until an opening is discovered. Being an Initiate is all about the basics, so let’s now talk about the advanced methods: being a Padawan.

After an Initiate passes their Initiate Trials, showing that they have their basic understanding of Jedi discipline, a Knight will select an Initiate to take as a Padawan Learner. Their apprenticeship will be more like the one of the shoe makers I described earlier. The Knight will provide instruction and exercises for their Padawan to practice on their own time. The Padawan will practice, demonstrate what they have learned, and the Master will provide feedback for the Padawan to analyze and evaluate their own progress with. They will also practice techniques in applying the Force and saber cadences together, so the Padawan can get used to training at an advanced level and learn about how a Knight trains. The Padawan will also go on missions with their Master and watch how they take their role as a Peacekeeper in the Galaxy. Learning by example is one of the best ways a student can perceive what their end goals should be for their own progress. Eventually, once a Padawan has gained enough mastery of their skills, their Master will take them to Ilum to create their own lightsaber (as mentioned in my previous essay, and according to original canon). At this point, the Padawan will have learned all the skills they need to learn and must now focus on refinement. The Padawan  will be taking more lead in missions, acting as an equal to their Master as opposed to just their student, and showing true Mastery of all the abilities a Jedi should have: diplomacy, swordplay, applying the Force to themselves and to the world around them, true compassion, and inner peace. It is at this point that the Padawan is put through the ultimate gauntlet: The Trials, of which there are five, each just as important as the last. First, The Trial of Skill: this is not necessarily a test of mastery, for Jedi never really considers themselves true masters of anything, but it is a test of Control; control over their abilities to use their lightsaber, to apply the Force, and to withstand calisthenics. Next, The Trial of Courage: there are many times a Jedi will face odds that even a full fledged army would be doomed to fail at. It is not that a Jedi must overcome these impossible odds, but that a Jedi must not waver before them, and that their fortitude stand firm in the face of them. The Trial of Insight: a Jedi must be able to see beyond the many illusions the Force can provide, and even the illusions of diplomacy and deception. The Trial of the Flesh: Jedi carry the whole Galaxy on their shoulders, a great burden to be sure. They must be able to withstand anything and keep moving, be it physical or emotional. And finally, The Trial of the Spirit, Facing the Mirror: The Force is always with a Jedi… the whole Force, the Light and the Dark. There will be many times a Jedi must face their faults, their inner most desires, even be human enough to hate and become frustrated. But when brokering a peace treaty that could lead to war if handled poorly, prejudice must be set aside, fear must be extinguished, doubt must never come to mind; these are the paths to the Dark Side. The Dark Side is always with them, like a shadow they cast as they stand basking in the light. You see, despite all their training, Jedi are just as imperfect as the rest of us, and because of all that training, that fact is difficult to see, yet it is nonetheless true. A Jedi must accept themselves for who they are, all the good and the bad, and admit that they will never grasp true understanding of the Galaxy until they are one with the Force. Once they do, they have all that they need to be a Jedi Knight.

You see, a Jedi Knight—or even a Jedi Master—need not be the most skilled with a blade, the best diplomat ever known, or be strong enough in the Force to move an entire planet. They simply need to have total control, be courageous, mindful, enduring, and they need to know themselves, just like Obi-Wan, a man who left the Jedi Order, defied the powers at be at many junctures, and often failed in the face of his tasks and yet, is considered to be a model Jedi… This is just like me. I was never the best trumpet player… or the most tasteful person ever. I’ve been a snot, a downright brat, most of my childhood, using that as my shield against my bullies and often turning that shield into a weapon on the people who actually cared for me. I often didn’t know the difference… no, I wouldn’t see the difference. The problem was, the other trumpet players in my high school days were so bad at playing that I was the best… but as soon as I went up against somebody who had real drive and conviction, I was abysmal. So, I never knew where to turn or what to do. Take all that into account and add that I lost my music program and my teacher like many other schools did at that time… I was full of hate and I held a grudge against many people for a very long time. I fought it, with all that anger, and the result was I lost all my face at that school and the new Band Director—who I can say with confidence and clarity, really was a pretty bad teacher—took away all my standing in the music program. When I graduated and left my broken program behind, I wandered around a county college for four years, trying to find somebody who understood, trying to make some real progress on myself and on my skills as a musician. I was really, truly lost. I didn’t want to be so angry, I wanted to be better, I wanted to grow but I just didn’t know how. By then, another far better Band Director took over my school’s Band Program and I finally went to him for help… boy did he kick my ass. I thank him every day for it. He showed me just how pointless being so upset was, that if I really cared so much about the music programs of the future, I needed to stop dwelling on all that I grieve for and simply do something about it… and I really did start to become a good trumpet player. I finally got to the four year school I wanted to go to, I saw that meeting your idols isn’t always a good ideas, I stood firm against the tides that would’ve ripped a younger me apart, and, most importantly I joined a music fraternity full of wholesome gentlemen— who are not the best musicians I have ever met, but are very upstanding, compassionate men— that taught me good principals of neighborhood, humility, and charity… all my anger and rage melted away… I saw myself for who I really was, I saw my drive and my desires, I saw all that had happened to get this far, and for the first time in my life, I was alright with all that… I faced the Mirror… I’ve been going to college for a total of eight years, next year will be my ninth and final year. After I graduate, I will be a certified K-12 Music Teacher, like I’ve always wanted to be. Just as despite all his failures and setbacks, Obi-Wan was able to ascend to a height of Jedi standards the likes of which many Masters have never achieved, just because of his perseverance alone and his ability to admit his faults, embrace them, and keep going.

Scene: Star Wars, Clone Wars, Season 5, Episode 15: “Shades of Reason”, Maul murders Duchess Satine

Obi-Wan: “You can kill me, but you can never destroy me. It takes strength to resist the Dark Side, only the weak embrace it!”

Maul: “It is more powerful than you know—“

Obi-Wan: “—and those who oppose it are more powerful than you’ll ever be!”

 I hope you gained something from this. Enjoy the rest of Jedi June.

May the Force be with you.

@jedijune

#jedi june #star wars #the jedi path #learning #teaching #musician #phi mu alpha #sinfonia #nerd #padawan

[rawnwas]

@nunukim-182  here it is! Thank you very much for waiting, I'm sorry it took me so long.   Enjoy it!

Since the kindergarten, I have been a child with difficulties to communicating. I commented on Star Wars all the time, it was very difficult for someone to put up with me. Actually, apart from my parents and my sister Esther, only one person cared about me. Her name was Rebecca Tucker.

Red was my best friend since kindergarten. she always sat next to me at lunch, in class, we worked together at school, and we also sat together on the bus. We even brought different fruits to lunch to exchange them, we went together to the cinema and to a Casa Bonita, it was funny. But all that changed when we got to fourth grade.

in this grade, everyone tried to appear "mature" and groups (some forced) were formed to "improve the interaction". There were the populars, the emos, the ugly ones, among others. red was adjusted immediately between the "hot girls" and me, obviously, with the nerds. I thought this wasnt going to affect our friendship, but as soon as the groups were defined, she started to avoid me and left with her friends.

Although Red avoided me, I continued to observe her and I realized that all our years of friendship were not in vain. I remember one time that she suggested seeing "the attack of the clones" to her friends when they chose which movie to watch at the cinema. Obviously her friends rejected that option for being a "nerd" movie and Red smiled falsely.

Our biggest interaction was on a school trip to "Villarejo dos peregrinos" where everyone said it was 1864. Our teacher told us to make pairs, and Red grabbed my hand instantly. I was surprised, because we hadnt spoken in months. During the tour, we talked as much as we could and i enjoyed her company a lot.

I didn’t realize, but I missed her a lot. Her voice, her smell, her hair, how she played with his strands as he spoke, the freckles she tried to hide with makeup, the perfume she wore ...

all those things that I missed, were back ...

but my joy evaporated as soon as the armed men invaded the place and threatened us.

I stood in front of her when they sat us on the floor, to prevent her from getting hurt. After the men were arrested, Red was so grateful that she sat with me back on the bus, and she forgot her friends during the trip, which sadly lasted only a few hours, and we kept talking. when we arrived, there was still a lot to talk about...

I thought she would continue talking to me later, but no, she was with his friends again. Even so, all those memories would follow my memory.

Even without her, I was not alone all this time. I started sitting at lunch with my friend Bradley, who was also a fan of galaxy wars, and with whom I had many things in common. I can say that at the time Red avoided me, he was my best friend.

besides him, I started to get together with Craig, Token, Tweek, Jimmy and Clyde. Somehow, I fit into their group, and among all of them, Clyde became a close friend. I confess that I felt betrayed when he started dating Red. However, thanks to Master Yoda, his engagement didnt last long.

at some point, I even played with eric, and ended up in Somalia, on a french ship with my laser sword, a heroic moment.

Over time, my interactions with Red decreased. some of her friends discovered her looking at me at lunch, and they started bothering her with that.

one day there was a talk about yaoi art at school and they showed images of Tweek and Craig, doing things that they normally don’t do. unlike the others, I was familiar with this topic and knew very well that tweek and craig were not really gay. I mean, there are a thosands of fanarts and fanfics about obi-wan x Anakin and Spock x Kirk and they are not really homosexual ...

During this event, I saw Red. She behaved like the other girls and found everything very nice. I dont doubt that when returning home, she looked for the two previous couples.

I thought Tweek and Craig were not really gays until they both ended up in front of the whole school. I was surprised with everything Tweek said, never imagined that Craig would be capable of all those things that Tweek said. I was also curious to know who Michael was, who apparently had been guilty of the separation.

The next day, Craig lost the class and Tweek appeared, but he looked very discouraged. Red also looked sad, it was as if the relationship of those two gave her hope for something.

But the next day, Tweek and Craig arrived at school holding hands, to the astonishment of everyone, including myself. Despite the surprise, I was glad that they were together again.

¿Red looked ... hopeful? I had never seen that expression on his face before.

At lunchtime, I sat next to Bradley, as I always did since the beginning of the year. Our table was next to the girls table. I could clearly hear a conversation from Red that caught my attention.

‘’Wendy, when you sayed that every kind of love is magical… you meaned that even a popular girl and a nerd can fall in love and it would be beautiful too?’’

That was not a typical Red question, and her friends noticed it too, so she got everyone at the table to raise their eyebrows. Wendy, meanwhile, took Red's hands and answered dreamily:

"Of course, any kind of love is magic!"

Red smiled shyly and could swear she blushed.

Bradley finished eating and ran away without saying goodbye. I was confused, but I finished my meal too and went out to the courtyard. all my friends were busy doing something, so I decided to sat in a corner to observe.

But before I did, Red appeared in front of me!

‘’Kevin... can we talk?’’ she asked.

‘’of course…’’ I answered surprised.

He took my hand and led me to the most isolated corner of the courtyard.

‘’Kevin ... do you remember that dance we had last year?’’ she asked looking me straight in the eyes and smiling shyly.

Of course I remember it! I smiled widely as soon as the memories arrived.

Flashback~~~~~~

In third grade, we had a dance near the end of the year. I remember well that Red decided to dance with Token, and I was sitting, feeling excluded. No girl wanted to dance with me, and I did not want to dance with anyone else.

It was like this until a girl dressed in a vulgar manner began to kiss several boys, including Token, who left Red aside to go with her.

Red was upset and sat in the stands. I went to talk with her and ask her if she wanted to dance with me, she accepted and we danced until the end of the dance.

After the party was over, they threw us out of the gym and Red sat down to wait for her uncles, and I sat with her to wait for my parents. As Esther was playing with the snow and Craig was playing with her friends, I was alone with her.

We talked and at some point, she took my hand and told me that I was the coolest guy in the entire galaxy. I felt extremely happy and I told her that she was also the coolest girl in the whole galaxy.

But before we could say anything else, the car of her uncles had already arrived for her and craig, leaving me alone with my sister.

~~~~~~~

I must have been thinking about that for a long time, because when I realized, Red was calling me. When I react, she kept talking.

'' ¿So, you still think I’m the coolest girl in the whole galaxy? '' she asked, holding my hands in his.

I thought about it a little. Even after she had avoided me, she was still the coolest girl I had ever met.

‘’ Of course, you are and always will be the coolest girl in the galaxy, and the planets beyond’’ I said without letting go her hands.

She smiled as she looked our joined hands.

‘’ you know kevin ... I still thinking that you’re the coolest guy in all the galaxies and I ... I like you, you know?’’

I was shocked. I also liked her too, actually, I always liked her, even after she started to ignore me.

‘’I… I…’’ I failed to form some phrase.

‘’So ... kevin ... what if you're Han Solo and I'm Princess Leia?’’ she suggested, winking at me.

I smiled. I had not thought of rejecting her, and now, less! she used a low blow!

-yes red! she smiled and hugged me.

As we parted, she grabbed my face, pulled her close and closed her eyes. Before I understood what was happening, our lips joined in a kiss. I felt very excited, it was silly, but in the end it was my first kiss.

‘’let's Rock!’’ she said after kissing me. We ran hand in hand to the courtyard. On the way, Clyde intercepted us.

‘’So ... are you guys together, huh? kevin, I thought these things didn’t interest you!’’ he scoffed, raising his eyebrows. I wanted Clyde to be sent to the farthest planet, from the farthest galaxy.

and somehow, my wish was fulfilled, because tweek and craig passed by holding hands and Clyde ran after them.

However, as soon as he left, Bebe arrived.

‘’I always knew you liked geeks! eh Red? I want to be the godmother of your wedding!’’ she said dreamily.

I wanted her to be sent to a planet farther away than Clyde's. But unlike Clyde, she went faster, winking at us.

When we get to the swing, we take turns pushing ourselves.

From that day, Red and I continued together, as if that separation by groups hadn’t happened. She surprised me with kisses and hugs, and I take my hand, as I always wanted.

[shadowmaat]

In My Dreams Daddy

(An accidental follow-up to In Your Dreams Daddy)

Anakin accused him of being predictable, but it was just curiosity, dammit! The fact that Khameir was the only one not trying to get in his pants was merely a coincidence. Their new across-the-street neighbor never failed to be polite when their paths crossed, but he also didn’t go out of his way to welcome Obi-Wan and Anakin to the neighborhood. No plates of cookies, no shirtless lugging of boxes, and no thinly-veiled attempts to “show him around.” Given the rather predatory nature of the rest of their new neighbors, it was a bit of a relief, but it also meant that most of what he learned about Khameir came second-hand.

Satine told him that Khameir was a former gang member, with quotes around former, but the Fett twins seemed to think he and his brothers had escaped a cult only for the eldest brother to die, leaving Khameir in charge of young Zakhi. Obi-Wan could sympathize with that since he’d been taking care of Anakin since their adoptive father died.

Khameir was a teacher, too, though he was in charge of kindergarteners rather than underclassmen (not that there was always much difference, in Obi-Wan’s experience). He also gave classes in kendo, of all things, at the local Y. Obi-Wan had almost walked into a door the first time he’d passed the room. It was… well. He’d never heard of kendo before, but was sorely tempted to join in now. Unfortunately it seemed he wasn’t the only one attrac- intrigued by the prospect of fighting with bamboo swords as there was a page-and-a-half waiting list to get in.

On top of all that he cultivated some of the most beautiful roses Obi-Wan had ever seen, was slowly coaxing a stray cat into accepting company, and still found time to take care of his little brother. He was a man of many talents, and the fact that he was easy on the eyes as well certainly didn’t hurt. Dark skin, startling facial tattoos, and a rare-glimpsed smile that lit up his whole face.

OK, so maybe he was a little predictable. Unfortunately no one seemed to be sure of Khameir’s preferences. Quinlan had heard rumors of an old girlfriend, but he’d also heard rumors that Khameir was a clandestine nightclub singer, so his sources were a little suspect. Cody thought he was ace, Rex was willing to bet bi, and Bail and Breha said they didn’t know, but he was always a delight to have at their fundraisers.

Obi-Wan’s own efforts to try and find out kept failing. Dropped hints were ignored, leading questions were answered in a way that didn’t provide any leads, and his attempts to flirt seemed to sail right over the man’s aristocratic head. He didn’t want to make advances where they weren’t welcome, but at the same time he at least wanted to know Khameir wasn’t interested. And so he tried a more oblique approach.

Working out in the gym when he knew Khameir would be there went unnoticed. Putting on his glasses to read at the outdoor cafe earned a glance, but nothing more. Mowing the lawn without his shirt on certainly attracted attention, but not from the neighbor he wanted (and also resulted in a bad sunburn). Anakin was threatening to intervene on his behalf in order to put him out of his misery and by that point Obi-Wan was almost tempted to take him up on it.

What finally worked happened almost by accident. Obi-Wan had been up until the wee hours grading term papers and was still half asleep when he went out to retrieve the paper. He’d gotten in the habit of only wearing his pajama bottoms out, just in case, but there was a slight crispness in the air that morning. He’d grabbed his old sweater and hooked it around his shoulders. It looked calculated as hell, but he didn’t care, figuring that if he got to the end of the drive and Khameir hadn’t looked up he could just put the sweater on and shuffle back to the house in defeat.

Except Khameir had looked up, so instead of fending off the chill he’d stretched. And Khameir had started choking. Asphyxiation had not been part of the plan, so Obi-Wan had gone over to try and help. Even as he was recovering his neighbor remained a startling shade of red, and there was no denying the way his eyes lingered on his rescuer. Obi-Wan had taken a chance and invited himself over for tea and Khameir had agreed. Success! Of a sort.

He rushed through getting dressed, half-afraid that if he took too long Khameir would come to his senses and call it off. Anakin was still asleep, and as it was the weekend (and he didn’t want to hear any commentary), Obi-Wan decided to leave him be. He grabbed a new tin of Kopi tea off the shelf as a gift, decided against day-old chocolate croissants from the bakery, and headed back across the street.

Khameir had changed out of his silk pajamas and into something tidy but not too formal. He didn’t bar Obi-Wan from entering, but instead invited him in. A young boy with a mop of curly black hair was seated in front of the TV, shoveling pancakes into his mouth as he watched Science Bros, though when he spotted Obi-Wan he stopped to stare. Khameir introduced him to Zakhi before moving them into the kitchen.

It could have been awkward. It should have been awkward. Somehow, though, they managed to muddle through it. Khameir was familiar with Kopi and set about brewing enough for both of them. They found common ground in the fact that both of them were struggling with finding a balance between being older brother and father figure to their younger siblings. Obi-Wan also mentioned his interest in kendo.

“I don’t suppose you offer any… private lessons, do you?” He waggled his brows over the rim of his teacup.

The tattoos on Khameir’s brow wrinkled as he gazed back at Obi-Wan. “I suppose I might be persuaded to consider it.”

He grinned even as he realized he had no idea if the man was responding to his flirting or just answering the question honestly.

“I’d appreciate that,” he said. “I figure a little extra protection can always come in handy.”

Khameir flashed a smile at him. “Protection from the wild Suburbanites?”

“Exactly!” Obi-Wan chuckled. “If I’m going to be fending off suitors with a stick, it might help if I knew the proper way to use one.”

There was a long pause. He was starting to wonder if he’d gone too far when Khameir snorted.

“Ah yes, the terrible burden of popularity. It must be difficult to choose among so many, mm, viable sparring partners?”

There was a hint of something like bitterness behind the words, but Obi-Wan kept smiling.

“They may think they have a chance, but there’s only one person I’m interested in, ah, crossing swords with.” He cleared his throat. “Assuming, that is, that the swordmaster finds that agreeable?”

“Me?” Khameir paused in the middle of pouring more tea and carefully set the pot back on its plate. “Well. I haven’t reached the hanshi title yet, but I might be able to show you a thing or two.”

There was that smile again. Obi-Wan’s heart beat a little faster.

“Great! Good. So, uh, dinner, maybe?”

Khameir agreed, recommending a place Obi-Wan had heard about but hadn’t tried yet. It took a bit of schedule-wrangling to work out a date and time, but he left with a bounce in his step and Khameir’s number in his phone. Things were finally looking up, and something told him they were only going to get better.

#jedimindfic #dream daddy au

[tisfan]

Holiday Spending

All I Buy For Christmas - Renting in the New Year - Will you Steal My Valentine - Up for (Mardi) Grabs - Hopping Down the Money Trail - (In) Memorial Day Sale - (Folding) Paper Anniversary | (Financial) Independence Day

A/N: I swear, I spend all my time apologizing to you guys about this fic, don’t I? Anyway, warning for blood, warning for gore, and warning for cliffhanger.

SERIOUSLY. You have been warned. If you can’t handle a cliffhanger, you want to stop reading now and come back in September when I post the next chapter. (And I totally don’t blame you if that’s your choice!)

Still, happy ending (eventually) so, you know, just read with caution. (This fic is NOT a deathfic. Just saying.)

Chapter Nine: Back to School Fundraiser

Things were never as simple as Tony made them out to be. They were certainly never as simple as he wanted them to be.

First off, after consulting with the head of security for Stark Industries, Happy Hogan, he’d discovered that there was no way that Bucky could possibly be the entirety of Tony’s security. The fact that Tony even had a head of security was mind-bogglingly weird. It wasn’t that he didn’t know his father had bodyguards from time to time, especially for out-of-the-country appearances, but it really hadn’t occurred to Tony that these things would transfer, along with the ownership of the company itself.

Bucky had turned in his two weeks notice at the Red Room, and he’d also -- on Happy’s recommendation -- signed up for a two-week refresher course. Technically, Bucky had never done the basic course, but after some performance reviews with a trainer, it was decided that his years as special forces and his work as a bouncer had given him a lot of the basics and he mostly just needed things like disarming techniques and a few pointers.

Which meant for the beginning of the semester, at least, Tony was on rotation with some of the new bodyguards that had been assigned to him.

Which further meant that Tony had to do a lot of paperwork for making sure his bodyguards were allowed on campus.

He liked Sunset, she was one of the women who’d come in for the interviews -- Happy had suggested that he talk with the various assignees before accepting them into his detail -- and had been polished, intelligent, easy on the eyes. She’d also been frighteningly competent. Tony had watched her in the gym while she did a demonstration, taking down half a dozen men who’d been promised a five thousand dollar bonus if they could pin her for three seconds.

They’d all failed. Spectacularly.

The nicest thing about Sunset was, however, the fact that she didn’t terrify people. (Or Tony. Tony didn’t really want to admit that Eugene Thompson scared him. Just a bit.)

The week before classes started, Tony spent several days on the campus. Several of his teachers had expressed sympathy with the situations that had caused him to withdraw last semester. Perhaps not unexpectedly, his female professors had been more sympathetic about Rumlow’s attack, and the others had been concerned about Tony’s losing his parents. Tony was pretty sure someone at SI was pushing, at least, a huge financial contribution to allow him the opportunity to do some make-up tests.

The tests, if he passed them, would give him credit for those classes he’d been forced to withdraw from that previous semester. If he failed, or got a grade lower than a B, he could chose to take the classes over again with no penalty.

It was an elegant solution, Tony thought, to the problems that the whole mess had been; it gave him the opportunity to prove his intelligence. Could he pass the finals after missing half the course materials in presentations? If yes, he wouldn’t fall behind in his work. MIT, after all, had both a reputation to maintain and the Stark legacy to consider. If Tony fell behind, would he decide that his degree wasn’t worth the effort? After all, the company came to him, it’s not like he needed the credentials. And even the stupidest, most stalwart defender of “he needs to earn those grades” philosophy would see that losing Tony as a student would be a blow.

After all, alumni donations were a beautiful thing.

(more below the cut, or read on A03)

Tony sighed. He hadn’t wanted his money to matter, in the case of his schooling, but this was still a better solution than most.

Already, various members of the board were pressing for his opinion, his attendance at board meetings, a direction to steer the company in. He was going to have to make it official; let Obadiah run the company in his name, at least until Tony finished school. Which meant having to sit down and have meetings with Obie about what directions Tony wanted the company steered.

But first, tests.

Tony stared back at his exam booklet. He could feel Sunset’s eyes on him. Despite the fact that she technically wasn’t supposed to be in the room -- it should have been just him and the proctor -- she’d gotten some sort of special dispensation.

Sometimes the whole thing felt ridiculous. Who the fuck was going to take a shot at Tony while he was taking his Advanced Engineering and Motivations exam?

On the other hand, there was a dead body in the morgue and the tampered steering column of Howard’s car.

Tony sighed and got back to work. The test wasn’t all that hard. Even if he’d missed half the semester’s worth of material, at least half of the exam was from the previous material, so he finished that part relatively quickly. Eidetic memory was useful for a few more things than vibrantly and vividly replaying all the worst memories of his life.

The second half of the semester’s material was harder, although some of it he thought he did okay on, based on that fact that he read relatively quickly and had been reading ahead in the course material just because the information was both fascinating and somewhat out of date.

That was a question he had a lot of trouble with, when he came across problem-solving for a situation in which new developments vastly outstripped the tech as presented in the materials. Did he give the answer as the test expected; what the professor or his TAs would be grading on, or did he present the better, more elegant solution based on current updates.

Tony sighed and filled it out for the right practical answer, rather than the correct test scores solution. He’d defend the answer, if he had to, but he couldn’t bring himself to write down a poor practical.

He checked the clock on the wall. Thirty-four minutes left in the exam time. He glanced at the proctor, bored out of her mind and staring at her fingernails. She also wasn’t allowed to have her phone on her during the exam, and really, Tony hadn’t done anything aside from sit there and scribble frantically in his exam booklet for the better part of an hour.

Glanced at the booklet again. Wondered if it would be worth his time to double check his work. Probably not. He could recall the entire test if he needed to, without even looking at it, and despite everything people might have thought about Tony Stark, his handwriting was impeccable. Good, readable handwriting was a stone-cold necessity if you were going to work with other engineers.

He signed his name on the front cover, put the pencil down, and handed in his booklet.

The proctor gave him a wan smile. “Thank God,” she said. “I was running late this morning and I didn’t have time for a coffee.”

“Well, that’s a tragedy in the making,” Tony said. “Thanks for this.” He knew she was a volunteer; the situation was highly irregular.

“Not to worry,” she said. “We’ve all heard about you. You’re going places. I’d hate to be one of the reasons you didn’t get there.”

“Oh, I’ll get there, all right,” Tony said. “Just might have taken me a little longer without your assistance.”

“Good luck,” she said.

“Don’t need luck. Scientifically, luck has a poor prognosis.”

“That’s why they call it luck,” she pointed out.

Tony pocketed his pencil on the way to the door and collected his body guard. Sunset did not look bored. She looked alert and vivacious and pretty. “How was the test, boss?”

“Pretty sure I at least got a B,” Tony said.

It was stupidly hot outside the class building; every year it just seemed to get hotter. The sidewalk was particularly ghastly and Tony crossed the green on the grass, even though there were signs everywhere that said not to walk on it, just because honestly, his feet were getting torched inside his shoes.

He was just considering the pros and cons of an iced coffee (pro -- coffee. Con -- iced. Icky. watered down. But it’s so hot today. And, you know, coffee.) when he heard a voice that he absolutely did not want to hear.

“Hey, hey, hey, Tony. Wait up, man.”

Tony gritted his jaw. He didn’t turn. He didn’t stop. He just kept walking.

“Take care of it, Ms. Bain,” he said, not looking at her either.

“No, come on, Tony, don’t be like that.” Rumlow’s hand came down on Tony’s shoulder and pulled him to a halt.

The training modules weren’t hard, Bucky was discovering. In fact, they were a lot easier than the things he’d done in high school. Some of it was on par to his sniper training, and other course material he’d had to learn as part of his stint in the military.

The physical courses were fun. He enjoyed the challenges presented in urban combat, defensive firearms techniques, crowd-moving, and advanced control tactics. Most of it was just close enough to his bouncer training that he could lean on past experience. He certainly didn’t have the problems that some of the other guys in the course were having. Bucky had fought in enough bar fights that he wasn’t at all ashamed of using unsportsmanlike conduct, whereas some of these trainees were martial artists. Form, to them, was key. Elegance. Not hair pulling, or using the environment. The woman who was a judo expert was pretty good; Bucky’d enjoyed watching her work.

What he wasn’t having an easy time with was the theoreticals. He was good learning how to disarm a bomb -- but he had trouble with the idea that this was something that could happen. He learned how to conduct a car chase, in case of a primary kidnapping, and was haunted by the idea of Tony being bundled into someone else’s car, gun held to his temple, and having to hope that Bucky could catch them in traffic.

After one particularly descriptive lesson for infiltration attempts, Bucky found himself after class, in the halls, panting for breath. He didn’t even have to close his eyes to remember Rumlow pressed over Tony’s struggling body, the way the man had been tearing at Tony’s clothes, the flower of bruises over Tony’s throat.

“You sure you’re up to this job?” It was the woman -- Jennifer, Bucky thought her name was -- who’d impressed everyone in the takedown classes.

“Have t’ be,” Bucky said. “It’s against all sorts of practicals, but the primary--” he couldn’t help a sarcastic face at that “--my primary. Is my boyfriend. We’ve had some actual problems, and…”

“Yeah, I know who you are,” Jennifer said. “You’re being used as an example in the other classes of what not to do. You’re compromised.”

“Because Tony’s my boyfriend,” Bucky said. “Yeah, I know. We all saw the damn Bodyguard movie.” Truthfully, Bucky’d only seen it because Tash had gone through a phase of terrible romance movies, and she’d forced a number of them on him. Personally, Bucky thought the movie was full of shit, and poorly acted on top of that, but it wasn’t a widely shared opinion, it seemed.

“If something happens to him --”

“It wouldn’t change anything,” Bucky interrupted. “I don’t plan to make this a career choice. It’s practical. If I’m going to be with him all the time anyway, I might as well know how to protect him, right?”

“Will you be able to live with yourself, if something happens?”

Bucky swallowed hard. “I don’t think that I’ll be able to live with it anyway,” he admitted. “So I need all the tools at my disposal, t’ make sure it doesn’t happen.”

Jennifer smiled, patted his arm. “I think it’s sweet that you love him so much,” she said. “Half of us are looking at protecting and possibly taking a bullet for a primary we don’t care about, the rest of us are looking into the Secret Service; taking a bullet for a politician, which has to be one of the hardest jobs there is. Being a political neutral in DC?”

Bucky knew he couldn’t do it; the assignments for the Secret Service were random, based on skill or other factors. Bucky wasn’t sure he could adequately protect, say, an anti-gay conservative, and he knew damn well that there were people in office that if someone pointed a gun at them, Bucky’d be tempted to help them with their aim. He wasn’t ashamed of that, but he could see the stress there. On the other hand, in the end, that was still just a job.

If someone shot Tony…

Well, Bucky wasn’t sure he could live with that.

But what he’d said was also the truth. He was going to die inside anyway, if that happened. Might as well be part of the prevention, right?

“Which half are you in?” Bucky rather liked Jennifer. She was smart, she was funny, and she had skills.

“I want to work for a movie star, or something like that. Get a glimpse of the glamorous life,” she said. “I wanted to model when I was younger, and then I hit this growth spurt at sixteen that destroyed any sort of Hollywood career. But, perhaps not unexpected, a lot of Hollywood big shots want pretty bodyguards, too. Image is everything out there, and I could make good money.”

That much was true, Jennifer was the tallest woman Bucky’d ever met, easily six and a half feet, muscular, and lean. And she was beautiful, stunningly so. She was pretty enough that it probably made up for the fact that she towered over most men. (Straight men could be so insecure, Bucky noticed.)

“I can put a word in for you with my boss,” Bucky joked. They were another week of classes out from getting their licenses, which wasn’t as good as practical experience, but there were enough vets on Tony’s team, one or two new people wouldn’t go amiss, and Bucky would honestly feel better if there was someone he knew and trusted looking out for his man.

“I’ll come by and meet him, if you want,” Jennifer said. It was almost unexpected; she might really have wanted to push out to California right away. Then again, bird in the hand and all that. Getting some experience with Tony Stark, up and coming CEO of the world’s most progressive weapons and technology company, would get her some street cred, experience, and all things considered, probably not too much work. Even with the suspected possible murderer after Tony’s life. At least she wouldn’t have to be dealing with groupies.

“Yeah, I’ll talk with him,” Bucky said. “He’s mostly getting his security from Stark Industries right now, but --”

“You don’t trust them,” Jennifer said.

“No, I don’t, actually.”

Jennifer leaned in and kissed his cheek. “You’re a sweet kid, Barnes. Call me next week, we’ll have lunch and I’ll impress your primary.”

Brock Rumlow got maybe two more words out that weren’t desperate repetitions of Tony’s name and something that might have been the start of an apology, before Sunset Bain stepped in and did what she was hired to do.

Tony didn’t have to look; the sounds were brutal and clear. The weight of Brock’s hand vanished from Tony’s shoulder and there was an awful thud of a body hitting the grassy lawn with breath-stealing force.

Brock was gasping for air and Sunset didn’t even pause; she came down on him like a ton of bricks, her pointy elbow aimed into his stomach, and Tony flinched. He understood that violence was necessary, he understood that by telling Sunset to take care of it, he’d signed a contract for her to do violence. There was a dark, angry part of Tony that wanted Sunset to kick Brock’s ass for him, to do it for vengeance, and to do it to protect. Tony would be straight up lying to himself if he tried to say he didn’t want Brock harmed. He was still waking up in the middle of the night, choking for air, trying to push an invisible force away. If Tony could go even a month without feeling that sickening dread, without waking Bucky up and letting his boyfriend talk him down out of a night terror, that would be great.

Unfortunately, he didn’t think that was going to be accomplished by Sunset removing Brock’s head from his shoulders.

“Okay,” he said. “That’s enough.” He hoped that was enough. He hoped Brock wasn’t going to be stupid, wasn’t going to take the fact that a woman half his size had just knocked him to the ground and had his wrist pinned up between his shoulder blades as some insult, and keep fighting.

Tony also hoped that he could get through the next five minutes without puking in terror. Just hearing Brock’s voice had been enough to send him right back there, in the smothering darkness, with no air in his chest, with his clothes torn open, knowing, knowing, that there was nothing he could do to prevent what was about to happen to him and resenting it.

Even with the bodyguards and Bucky looking out for him, Tony didn’t feel safe. He didn’t feel safe because there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t protect himself. He couldn’t build a suit of armor around his heart and keep the bad things out.

“Come on, Tony,” Brock said. He coughed a few times. “I just want to talk.”

“I can’t imagine there’s anything that I want to talk about with you,” Tony said. He still hadn’t looked around. He wasn’t sure if seeing Brock’s face was going to make things worse. He could imagine, at the moment, that Brock had a bloody nose, the beginnings of a black eye, that he might have terror and agony and humiliation painted over his features. Or he could just be spitting defiance.

“I’m sorry, man,” Brock said.

Of all the things that Brock could have said, this was not something that Tony had expected. Did rapists and attempted rapists ever apologize to a victim? Did that happen?

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” Brock repeated. “Look, can… can I get up, here?”

“No,” Tony said. He still hadn’t turned. Didn’t want to see. Couldn’t look. “I don’t exactly feel sanguine about you being within fifty yards of me. What is it that you want?”

“To say I’m sorry,” Brock said. “That’s all. That’s… I was drunk an’ stupid and I just… got carried away. It wasn’t personal.”

“Sure as hell felt personal,” Tony snapped. “Drunk. Huh. That’s a great excuse. Were you drunk when you slipped rohypnol in my drink? Drunk when you planned to take me out of the party and into a back room where no one could hear you? Drunk? That’s some bender, Rumlow. Are you sorry because I was hurt, or are you sorry because you were caught? Because everyone on campus knows what you are?”

“I know you ain’t got a reason t’ believe me, but I did not drug your drink, Tony,” Brock said. His voice was low, servile, pleading. “I thought… I thought you were hittin’ on me. Ain’t like you don’t… didn’t…”

“My sexual proclivity is irrelevant,” Tony said, voice cold. “Once --”

“I know.” Brock’s voice broke. Tony really didn’t want to see that. He wasn’t sure he wanted Brock to apologize, to have excuses, to have Tony start doubting himself, to forgiving someone who’d hurt him so irrevocably. He wasn’t sure he could do that to himself. “Tony, come on, gimme a break, this is my life, an--”

“Oh, it’s your life, now, is it?” Tony whirled, finally facing Brock, staring at him. “What, exactly, did I do to your life? Did I make it so that you can’t sleep? Did I make it so that you wake up in the middle of dreams, choking to death. Did I make it so that you can’t bear to be touched, can’t stand to have someone hand you a glass? Did I make it so that you distrust the people in your life that you love, because you don’t know when someone’s going to turn on you? If I manage to affect your life to there merest percent of what you’ve done to me, I’ll be glad of it. So don’t you lay there on the ground with your pleading expressions and pretend that your life has been in any way devalued because of that night. Anything that happens to you, you deserved it. You deserve it.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Brock burst out. “I… it was an accident. I was drunk. I was stupid. You were… you were out of your goddamn mind and I didn’t know.”

“I don’t care.” Tony looked down at his fingernails. “I don’t believe you. And even if I did, I don’t care. I will live with what you did for the rest of my life. You might as well, too.”

“You know I have a perfectly good security team, right, baby?” Tony said. He was sitting in the cast-iron chair with two legs off the floor and his feet propped up on the patio table, which was going to be more annoying as soon as their food got out here.

Bucky grinned. Tony was joking around, light-hearted and showing off. He hadn’t been this relaxed in weeks, and Bucky was happy to see it.

The school had let him know the results of their investigation -- it wasn’t fair, maybe, but with Stark Industries’ powerful media machine behind it, the college had eventually found Brock Rumlow guilty and expelled him. “Using my powers for good,” Tony had called it. It sucked and there was a lot of backlash from people who were convinced that it was only Tony’s whiteness and maleness and money that let such a thing happen, when Rumlow was an athlete, and Bucky didn’t disagree. But it set precedent, and maybe, just maybe, it might push things in the right direction. A little bit.

“Here, get your feet off the table, asshole,” Bucky scolded him, and pulled Tony’s trim ankles into Bucky’s lap, sliding his fingers under the cuff of Tony’s slacks to tease at his calf. “You’re gonna scare Jenn off from her new job.”

“If you’re going to hire her no matter what I say, why are we having an interview at all?” Tony scoffed, but he let Bucky slide off Tony’s shoe and rubbed his foot against Bucky’s thigh. Oh, god, that felt good, and Bucky was half-tempted to blow off the interview and just take Tony straight home to bed.

“Mr. Stark,” Jenn said, coming up. She was wearing a white pant suit with a green blouse and those heels she fancied. She’d demonstrated to Bucky during class that she could both run in them and kick ass. “But why?” he’d demanded anyway. “I like being tall,” she said. Which was just nonsense. He had to admit, though, she looked thoroughly professional and rather intimidating.

Tony didn’t bother to stand up. “Have a seat, Ms. Walters. My overly paranoid bodyguard here has been singing your praises nonstop since you two graduated together, so you don’t need to give me your resume. You just need to convince me that you’ll do a good job.”

Jenn smiled and took a seat.

Bucky wasn’t really listening anymore; Tony kept rubbing his socked foot over Bucky’s thigh, nudging at the vee between Bucky’s legs with his toes. Evil, evil boyfriend. Bucky grabbed Tony’s wandering foot and jammed his thumb into the arch, which got a slightly deeper sigh and Tony almost melted in the chair, still trying to be somewhat professional, even if it was probably pretty obvious that they were playing footsie.

Jenn would roll her eyes, but she wouldn’t mind. Probably. Besides, if Jenn was going to work for Tony, she was going to have to get used to it. Bucky had no intentions of keep his hands off his boyfriend, and if Jenn wanted to go on to Hollywood and do work for actors or singers, she’d need to develop a poker face anyway.

“... good eye for spotting small details,” Jenn was saying, and Bucky let his eyes do the automatic search. It was a habit he’d gotten into during the war, picking out the sniper spots, and even when there wasn’t a sniper there, he liked knowing. Better, when he’d seen a few snipers and the unit had managed to get undercover before the shit came down.

He wasn’t entirely happy with letting Tony eat out of doors. Tony had laughed a little, said Bucky was getting paranoid, and just because Howard and Maria had been (probably) killed didn’t mean that anyone was going to shoot Tony. That was inelegant and too easily found.

“Not gonna matter to you, if you’re dead,” Bucky had retorted.

“It’s bad planning,” Tony had insisted. “It’s too soon. They need to let my parent’s investigation die down before making another move.”

“We get sloppy, you get dead, and I’m going to raise you back up just so I can yell I told you so in your face,” Bucky had responded, and Tony had agreed with his assessment, rather than continue to argue.

But he’d still insisted on carrying on with a normal life. “I’m not going to spend the rest of my life being afraid,” Tony had said.

Bucky glanced at the rooftops opposite them. One high-rise apartment, but it was freaking August, and this part of town was affluent enough to have building-wide air conditioning. No one had their windows open.

A flutter of movement. Slow, deliberate. He wouldn’t have seen it if his paranoia wasn’t ramped up to at least a seven, and Jenn wasn’t talking about line of sights, and not paying attention, because to her it was still just a job, and to Bucky it was Tony. It was not just one life, but his own.

The black of a long-range rifle, like a spot in the sky with no stars. A flicker of windowblinds. Had someone cut the glass? Bucky squinted.

No time to see if he was right or wrong.

Bucky moved, shoving Tony’s feet out of his lap.

“Halfway up the building, twenty-third, or fourth --”

Pain.

Instant and punishing.

He knew, Bucky knew, that bullets traveled faster than sound, and why was it still a shock that he didn’t hear the report of the rifle before the bullet struck him? He, of all people, should know better.

Bucky staggered a step.

Things happened in a series of flickers, staccato images.

Fuck.

The table was toppling over, the water glasses crashing to the ground.

Blink.

Jenn had Tony covered. Her jacket was splattered with blood.

Ow. Bucky was aware of pain, enormous pain. He couldn’t quite reach it, wasn’t sure if he was feeling it at all…

He reached behind him, brought his hand back soaked with blood.

“Get the shooter,” Bucky whispered. He staggered again.

“Bucky, no, Bucky, Bucky, baby, no, no no, no.” Tony was crying and not even aware of it, his hand reaching for Bucky’s.

“Ow.”

Bucky went to his knees. What… what had happened? He couldn’t think. The world was spinning.

Everything was distorted. Sounds stretching like taffy.

There was something… something he needed to say.

“Tony?”

“Yeah, yeah, baby, I’m here, hold on, somebody get me an ambulance! I’m right here, Bucky, honey, oh, god, oh my god, Bucky…”

“... someone shot me…”

He was laying down. When had that happened?

His back hurt. Oh, god. The pain was like a black horse, bearing down on him. Thud. Thud. Thud. That was his heartbeat. It throbbed in his ears and behind his eyelids.

He shifted a little, trying to look around. “... need t’ get inside…” There was so much blood.

“We’re fine, baby, you just hold on, okay, hold on, help is coming…”

Bucky couldn’t raise his hand. Everything was numb and heavy, like laying under a blanket of snow. Soft and cold and heavy. “... love you…”

“No, no, Bucky, come on, don’t you fucking leave me, don’t you dare, goddamnit where’s that ambulance?”

“... tony.”

#winteriron #holiday spending AU #tony x bucky #tony stark #bucky barnes #cliffhanger ending #tw: gore #tw: blood