Anakin Touching Rex + Bonus - Reverse:

“You are a Mandalorian no more.”

I'm dead. This was amazing!

MASTERLIST.

A/N: in honour of hotd eve!! i also do not care if this accurate or not, it’s fanfic, give me a break pls [gif cred: @daenerys-stormborn] REQUESTS ARE OPEN BTW

WORD COUNT: 1,5k

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RECKLESS BEHAVIOUR

You were sure that Daemon Targaryen was the bane of your existence. He infuriated you to no end, and he probably acted the way he did just to annoy you further.

Your situation had become especially annoying because you couldn’t stop yourself from finding him ridiculously handsome. The first time you saw him you had been in a sort of trance, but the moment he opened his mouth all of that vanished.

It had become a sort of custom for you to glare at him from across the room, while he just smugly smirked at you, as if he knew something you did not. You tried to pay no mind to how thin the line between punching his beautiful face or kissing it, was.

It was quite similar to how he was looking at you now. Except now you were in some sort of staring contest, neither of you willing to break your apparent streak.

“Lady Y/N?” Someone near you said, it made you falter slightly in surprise, making you lose the undefined contest.

“Yes, my Lord?” You responded, the smoothest tone present, trying to ignore the way Daemon was looking at you now. You hoped that no disinterest showed, or worse, the fact that you had no clue who you were talking to.

“I saw you all by yourself, and couldn’t resist taking the chance to approach you.”

“I’m flattered.” You knew that some could consider you impolite, yet by the way he only seemed to look at your body, and not much at your words, you were sure he didn’t have much to say in honesty.

“What is a fine lady like you doing all alone?” He asked, and you took a moment to really look at the man. He was a Lannister without doubt, the enormous lions dancing on his clothing were the only proof you needed.

“Enjoying the wine, perhaps some dancing, if the right Lord asks.” You ambiguously answer, smiling slightly to not seem impolite.

“Would you care for a dance, Lady Y/N?” Your eyes traveled around the room, trying to find the one person you would mind seeing you dancing with someone. You didn’t know why, but the thought irked you.

Daemon stood near a corner, talking to some people who were surely going to bore him to death soon. His violet eyes caught yours swiftly, like he knew you were looking for him. You were quick to divert your eyes from his in a mere second, and though you were convincing yourself to having imagined it, you were sure he had frowned for just the shortest moment,

“I’d love that, my Lord.” You declared with a smile.

Lord Lannister took your hand in his, and pulled you from your seat. His hand was a bit rough, but still soft, like he hadn’t truly ever fought someone, or dealt with rough situations in general.

“For a moment I felt you’d say no.” Lord Lannister suddenly confessed, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Why would you think that?” You question, feeling his hand move towards your waist, pulling you in for the dance he asked for.

“I just thought… it does not matter, it was improper of me to think such things.”

“It’s alright, share your thoughts with me.” He looked hesitant, as if he was about to confess to a murder, “Please?”

“I had thought that perhaps the Prince had already won you over.”

“Won me over?” The thought of it was preposterous, something that would’ve made you laugh if the other person involved wasn’t burning your head with his stare.

“Forget I ever mentioned this, Lady Y/N, I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble.” His words brought no comfort, and neither did his dancing. He wasn’t half bad, he just wasn’t what you were looking for. His dancing was just dull.

The dance floor was getting more crowded by the second, and alongside all those people followed Daemon. It suddenly seemed like he was challenging you, his eyebrows raised in mockery, his eyes never leaving your form. Suddenly the dancing became less dull, and more like a battle you had to win.

You and Lord Lannister moved swiftly across the floor, finally picking up a more active pace. Though you were starting to dread the dancing, because you were now awfully close to the part in which you switched partners, and Daemon didn’t seem like he was going to move away from where you were soon.

“Well, hello Lady Y/N.” It had been so swift, too fast for you to notice that you had changed partners.

“My prince.” You greeted, looking up at him, his face looked too beautiful up close, too perfect for your liking.

“Enjoying the view?” He asked, spinning you according to the dance.

“Not particularly, no.” The lie fell from your lips too quickly, which made it far too obvious that you were enjoying it. Even when you were convincing yourself that it was just to see where it would affect him the most, if you ever got to hit him.

“I adore it when you lie to me, my Lady.”

“Not your Lady.” You respond, your posture stiffening, the fierce look in your eyes never leaving.

The prince just hummed in response, continuing the dance with no more words.

━━━━━━

The festivities were seemingly coming to their ends.

It had been exhausting, the bustling of people talking, your feet now begging for mercy after all the dancing you’d done.

You decided to make your exit with a couple other people, after saying you goodbyes and thank yous, it seemed satisfying enough for you. Of course, Daemon did not agree with your thoughts.

He followed right after you, catching up to you, grabbing your arm and pulling you in to an empty room. But you were prepared, spinning you both around and placing the blade you hid under the copious amount of fabric from your dress.

“Would you kill your Prince, Y/N?” He asks after a beat, you breathing slightly heavy from the situaton and just how close you really were from him.

“If the Prince is bothersome enough…” You whisper out.

Neither of you moved, minutes seemed to tick by. Both of your breathing trh only noise present, it was peaceful, it was something neither of you had experienced together.

Your blade was a light tingle in his skin, no longer pressed with murderous intention, but just because you did not what would happen if you were to let it fall on the ground. Your faces close, noses almost grazing, as if touching the other would scorch the other.

For a moment, your head moved back, but Daemon briskly placed his hand on the nape of your neck and pressed his lips against yours. It took you by surprise, but not enough for him to pull back. Instead you grabbed his face, pulling him towards you, the knife falling to the floor instantly.

You moaned slightly against his mouth, his other hand placed on your waist, in the exact same way Lord Lanister had done. Daemon seemed to want his touch gone, and to be replaced by his, for your mind to only ever remember his hand right there.

“We shouldn’t…” You finally breathe out, having pulled away, despite the noise of protest the Prince made.

“We should.” He says against your lips, pulling you in once more, and your body could not say no to such claims.

You had no intention of stopping, and Daemon didn’t either, yet an abrupt noise made you both pull away. You jumped from his embrace, smoothing down your dress, kicking away the blade from the both of you.

The door opened, revealing a guard.

“I’m sorry, my Prince, but your presence is required.” You could tell he was nervous, the slight shake to his voice giving him away. He decided the next best thing (or the thing that would not get him punished), was closing the door, leaving you both alone once more.

Daemon huffed, making you laugh softly.

“I’m glad you’re amused.”

“I’m not,” He just turns to you fully, the darkness of the room only contrasted by the moonlight. You could only make out the way his head cocked to the side, “I’m not.” You say more seriously this time.

“I assure you that this is not finished.”

“I know,” You near yourself to him, pecking the corner of his mouth, feeling the smirk forming on his lips.

“Goodnight, my Lady.” He whispers next to your ear, leaving the room.

You rest your head on the nearest wall, smiling up to the ceiling, and wondering how you even allowed yourself to be involved in such a situation. The cool night did not help the already formed goosebumps on your body, ones you were sure to see cover your skin frequently from now on.

Thursday Thoughts: Israel Story

“I honestly think that it’s adorable that you actually believe these children’s stories. But there is nothing magic about the waters.”

“Without the Creed, what are we? What do we stand for? Our people are scattered like stars in the galaxy. The Creed is how we survived.”

-Bo-Katan Kryze and Din Djarin, The Mandalorian Chapter 18: The Mines of Mandalore

When I was thirteen, my grandparents took the family on a big anniversary trip to Israel.

As a Jewish American kid in the early 2000s, growing up where there weren’t a lot of other Jews and spending my summers at Reform Jewish summer camp, I was told a lot of things about Israel. The big thing was always that Israel was important – that it was our home. That I should go there, and that when I went there, I would have an amazing feeling of connection, and I would know that it was my home.

So, as a recent bat mitzvah, I was excited about this trip. I was ready to go to Israel and have my big moment of feeling connected with the world.

I remember standing in the airport in Tel Aviv, minutes after stepping off the plane, and asking my dad, “When does it start to feel like Israel?”

Because it didn’t feel like Israel. It felt like an airport.

And then we stepped out into Tel Aviv, and rode around on a bus, and it felt like a city. I’d been to cities before. It was cool to see the street signs and graffiti were in Hebrew and Arabic just as much as they were in English, but it was a city.

Over the course of our trip, we went everywhere we could possibly go. We floated in the Dead Sea. We climbed Mount Masada. We saw the archaeological sites at Megiddo. We went to Caesarea, and Ein Gedi, and Yad Vashem, and Tzfat. We rode camels, we ate falafel, we learned just how unbreakable Druze glass is.

And, again, it was cool. I enjoyed the trip. It was beautiful everywhere we went, and we were surrounded by history everywhere we went. I remember thinking that the dust of history was gathering in my boots, because this is a place where people have lived for as long as there have been people.

But I kept waiting for it to feel like Israel – to have that big magical moment of connection that everyone said I would have – and it just wasn’t happening.

Then, we went to Jerusalem. And I thought, “Okay, here it is. This is where I’m going to have my big moment.” We went to the Western Wall, the last remaining piece of the platform that surrounded the ancient temple, the holiest place any Jew could visit in the world. I saw people there, pressed against the wall, eyes shut, in fervent prayer, clearly feeling something amazing. I walked up through the crowd in the small women’s section of the wall. I found enough space to reach forward, and I put my hand on the wall.

It felt like rock.

I remember thinking, “What is wrong with me, that all I feel is rock? Where is the connection I’m supposed to feel?”

And then, on our last day of the trip, we went to the Diaspora Museum (Beit Hatfutsot, now called the Museum of the Jewish People). It’s all about the Jewish people – our exile from that part of the world, and all our journeys since then. I’d never seen such a comprehensive look at the diversity and history of Judaism before. I’d certainly never been to a museum before that provided such an honest critique of the United States – it’s where I first learned about the SS St. Louis.

There was one room in the museum that caught my attention. I don’t know if it was a permanent installment or a temporary exhibit; I haven’t been back there since. In the room, there was a screen on the wall, rotating through pictures in a slideshow. Some of them were drawings, while others were photographs. All of the pictures were of the insides of people’s houses – their kitchens and dining rooms. Each picture was labeled with a place and a time. This was Poland, this was Spain. This was the fifteenth, eighteenth, twentieth century.

These pictures were from all across the world and all across history. And, in every picture, three items were circled in red: the challah loaf, the kiddush cup, and the Shabbat candlesticks.

As I stood there, watching these pictures, it hit me – slowly, and then all at once – that I had those things in my house. I was connected to every single place, and every single time, all across the world, all across history.

That was it. That was my moment, the completely mind-blowing and earth-shattering realization. That connection through tradition – that’s what it meant to be a Jew. I felt then a supreme sense of belonging, of being grounded, of being a part of something so much bigger than myself – something that mattered, something that was made of love, something that could never die. That realization has stuck with me ever since.

I told this story on TikTok on Tuesday. On Wednesday, Chapter 18 of The Mandalorian aired, and I marveled at the serendipity. I’ve talked here before about the connections I’ve noticed between the Mandalorians as depicted in this series and Judaism. We too were scattered. Our holy sites were destroyed. We are diverse, and disparate, and faced with the question of what to do now, in a world that hates us, hurts us, and demands that we too become hateful and hurtful. And we are united – we are grounded – we are able to survive because of the stories, the traditions, the rituals at the heart of our people.

Oscar Isaac

they should make cigarettes with legs that crawl out and away from you in every direction when you open the pack

Just casually bringing this back....

reblog this if you’re jewish or your blog is a safe space for jewish people

in light of recent events as well as a new rise in creating nazi ocs I think this post is an important one to have on your blog if you stand behind your jewish followers or are jewish yourself.

recently rewatched the finale of TCW (youchie) and man….. I love her ……. I Love Her!!!!