Suit

Some more tcw/b99 silliness because I love both so much

Din: Don't even THINK about getting face tattoos, young man

can’t believe will smith helped birth kit fisto

was feeling really normal abt Padmé’s handmaidens after reading the darth vader comics so had to doodle them (top is as handmaidens, bottom is OT era)

(commission info // kofi)

I refuse to believe that no one saw the bad vibes on that man.

🪄 — Anakin Skywalker.

— PROMPT: 🪄 “I’ll do anything you want me to do to you, but you have to say it out loud.” — request with this prompt list!

— CW: 18+!, smut, dirty talk, slapping, dom!Anakin, mean!Anakin, dacryphilia, brief mention of breeding kink.

— A/N: I'm so sorry Anon, I accidentally posted the request before it was ready and I had to delete it :(. I am an idiot. I hope you like it! I've been feeling super burnout lately so I hope this is good!

Anakin was supposed to only be your bodyguard. Yet, somehow he ended up being your lover.

His burning passion was contagious and more often than not, you craved his presence more than anything else in the planet. Anakin was addictive, his love was like an aphrodisiac that will ignite every cell in your body and his touch was soft as silk and strong as durasteel. Saying Anakin was an sight for sore eyes was definitely an understatement; The bastard was beautiful, tall, carrying an extravagant air with him and making his presence known at all times.

But his personality... sometimes leaves too much to be desired.

Anakin is more of a taker. He is demanding, hotheaded and quite stubborn. The only thing comparable to his beauty was his possessiveness and urgency for you. He carries a casual domination with every step, always keeping a hand on the small of your back, guiding you with his hand around your arm, lingering touches on the exposed skin of your shoulders, brushing hairs away from your face, too many eye contact...

Oh Maker- the eye contact.

Those deep, blue irises that praise the ability to communicate what words can't, devouring you with a single look and undressing you with a simple gaze.

Those same ocean eyes, blown out, dripping with desire stare at you from above, while he keeps the same hand that under the sun is protective and gentle, but under the moon is rough and authoritative around your neck, keeping you pinned down to the large bed of your luxurious chambers.

You were aware of the loud noises coming from your room, whoever was awake at this hours wandering around the Palace would hear your desperate moans and Anakin's animalistic growls, the incessant skin to skin slap and his filthy, condescending talk.

His gloves hand grips your hip with brutal force you had only imagined in battlefield, maintaining your ass in the air while he pushes your face against the fluffy pillows, promptly forcing you into a painful bu pleasurable position.

"What was that?" Anakin asks with a smug smirk, stopping his thrust. The lack of movements makes you whine with disappointment, urging your own hips backwards seeking for more friction, any movement, anything, really. "Stay still." He then warns you, swatting your ass.

"Anakin- " You whine, closing your eyes and feeling your brain melting into a pitiful mush. "Don't stop!" It was supposed to be a request but the frustration that come with it makes it sound more like an order.

Which earns you another slap this time harder than the first one. "Don't forget your place, slut." Anakin hisses leaning towards you, his tanned, toned chest brushing your sweaty back. "You belong in a cheap whorehouse, don't know how you managed to be a Senator."

The degrading comment has the desired effect, as your pussy clenches around his hard cock, boosting his ego.

"You want me to split this pretty pussy in half, sweetheart?" He teasingly asks, already knowing the answer but always the mean bastard, he continues taunting you.

"Yes" You choke, tears pricking at your waterlines. You would've nod your head if you could've.

"Say it." He urges, punctuating his demands with a quick, sharp thrust, the size and length of his cock and how much it affects you, not helping at all with his egocentrism. "I’ll do anything you want me to do to you, but you have to say it out loud.”

Some tears roll down your flushed cheeks, soaking the pillows and making Anakin practically salivate at the sight. There is something about seeing you cry while being stuffed up with his dick that brings him more happiness than anything in the Galaxy.

"Please— fuck me." You beg in a meek, submissive voice. "I need you, please Ani—"

Feigning annoyance, Anakin squeezes your throat cutting your plea midways. "That's all your pathetic brain can muster? Just a few orgasms and you become a brainless bitch?"

But he complies anyways, because Anakin is devoted to your pleasure. He knows you want nothing more than to come, and who is he to deny you such thing? He begins his ruthless thrusting, brushing your insides and hitting that spot that makes you scream and see stars. Anakin moans louder and his words become meaner, gritting his teeth to hold back his own orgasm in order to make you reach yours first.

"That's it, keep whining like a bitch in heat." He growls, almost laughing at the messy state he has converted you into. "I should drag your fucking ass to the floor and fuck you like the cheap slut you are."

The wet sounds of your pussy struggling to keep up with his assault are borderline obscene and total music for Anakin's ears.

"Can't wait to knock you up and show everyone you aren't a prissy little woman— more like a needy, cock-hungry slut." Anakin is really feeling the fantasy, although the undertones sound a little too real.

The thought of him getting you pregnant shouldn't excite you as much as it does; and Anakin, the ever observer notices it. He speeds up, now rutting into you like a madman who's only mission is bringing you to the edge of pleasure— which doesn't take him long. After a few more dirty promises and thrusts your climax unravels, blowing your mind just like he is blowing your back. Anakin hangs his head back bottoming out for a moment at the feeling it of your pussy squeezing him in a tight lock, as if she was asking him to stay there forever and never leave. The new wave of slick that coats his length eases his movements, instead of pulling out he just lowers the pace, rocking your orgasm and prolonging it as much as possible.

Breathless, used and satisfied you sob against the soft fabric, smiling softly. Anakin mirrors your smile, bending over and kissing your sweaty shoulder.

"You think I'm done with you?" He asks in a gentle whisper, peppering kisses over your skin. "Stand up and get on the floor, I'm keeping my promise."

you ever think about how the twins destroying the Hutt presence on Tatooine avenged a grandmother they'd never even met

(support me on kofi!)

Robe à la Française

1760-1770

The Metropolitan Museum of Art

"Women with coquettish airs were imposing in robes à la française and robes à l'anglaise throughout the period between 1720 and 1780. The robe à la française was derived from the loose negligee sacque dress of the earlier part of the century, which was pleated from the shoulders at the front at the back. The silhouette, composed of a funnel-shaped bust feeding into wide rectangular skirts, was inspired by Spanish designs of the previous century and allowed for expansive amounts of textiles with delicate Rococo curvilinear decoration. The wide skirts, which were often open at the front to expose a highly decorated underskirt, were supported by panniers created from padding and hoops of different materials such as cane, baleen or metal. The robes à la française are renowned for the beauty of their textiles, the cut of the back employing box pleats and skirt decorations, known as robings, which showed endless imagination and variety."

This is one of the dresses that I was truly surprised to see had never been on display, because to me this dress epitomizes the rococo era with its pastel blue, delicate floral pattern, pretty ruffles and ribbons, and flirtatious bows. Imagine how stunning it must have been with all of its lacy sleeve ruffles and undergarments, carefully rouged cheeks, glittering jewelry, and huge elaborate hair. It is truly one of my favorites.

You can read the whole story on my Patreon under obikin tag❤️

I would personally disagree with the sentiment that TCW is the worst interpretation of Anakin.

I understand the point. But, I feel like clone wars can act as a way of looking at Anakin from an outside perspective. The rest of these characters don’t see Anakin suffering until it’s too late we aren’t seeing what a mess he is how fragile he is how his fear is consuming him.

he’s putting up walls.

Ahsokas just happy to see him again, Obi-wan is growing tired and wearing thin these are things we see the most in that final season.

Season seven almost acts as how Ahsoka saw Anakin. Strong, Quippy, Always looking out for the little guy.

To her the Anakin she left was just as whole and alive when she returned.

we know that’s untrue but that’s what she sees.

I understand that the show itself probably wasn’t reading in to deep and was using nostalgia off of the previous seasons to drive season seven.

but. I choose to look at it in a sadder way a way that allows for that version character to exist.

The clone wars is about Ahsoka and Rex at the end of the day. And to them, Anakin never changed.