#i stayed up too late to try and marshal these thoughts... not sure if i succeeded

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

So in the first story in the Stepney book, the dynamic between Percy and Douglas is really interesting. (Especially when I edit it almost beyond recognition, lol.)

Coz they're talking about, well, you know, how there's an actual genocide of steam engines going down on the mainline. And in such a conversation you'd think Douglas would be the more grounded and worldly, yeah? Coz he's fresh from that frying pan, himself. Or maybe you'd recall that, after all, it's definitely Donald who is the brain of our Caledonians, and predict that actually Perce and Douggie are on a level.

But in fact, in this of all conversations, it's Percy who strikes me, again and again, as the more aware and open-eyed of the two. And it's all the more remarkable because Percy himself is really playing up this "oh don't ask me 🙃 I am but a simple saddletank, I do not understand the ways of the cruel and confusing outside world 🙃 I like to sing daft songs and think as little as possible 🙃" shtick to the hilt. But... what he says and how he says it doesn't bear this out at all? He got the gist of what the Fat Controller told them at the staff meeting perfectly well, thanks. The "nuance" and correction in the author's note is literally corporate propaganda and Percy is right to have tuned that line out. And he is not insensitive at all to their mainland counterparts, he feels deeply for them, but he also shows a lot of sense about how he conducts himself. Douglas has been happy to ignore any updates on the mainland situation till now—I'm not criticizing him, just pointing out that in comparison Percy has in fact paid attention and kept himself well-informed even though he goes on living his best life on Sodor. Perce is doing fine. He's excited about their visitor, as he gets excited by most grand events, but it's actually Douglas who starts immediately romanticizing and lionizing this new idol in a way that I find kind of naive...

D: 'He's sooo brave to travel among all those hordes of murderous diesels just to see us! 😍'

P: '... He has his Controller with him??'

D: 'SHORT 🤩 KING 🤩'

Douglas can't comprehend the idea of getting to Sodor with official permission, lol. Also, lookit him—he's already thirsty for Oliver before he ever meets him! My man is actually out here projecting his boyfriend fantasies onto a celebrity. How this lucky, lucky bastard had said fantasy just materialize in front of him in the moonlight at Barrow yards is beyond me. Douglas the Bullshitted His Way Onto the Island of Sodor Engine was truly built under a lucky star.

Mind you, I think Percy is right there being a short king. Like, Douggie. My babe. The way you immediately take Percy's remarks about 'it's really sad what's happening to our poor brethren on the mainland 😓' to 'yeahhh, fuckin' diesels, man. they're all devils' at the speed of light? Now I am criticizing you. Like I understand where you got this attitude but I am disappointed at your machine racism.

But Percy? Percy 💖. I will eternally love him for at once calling his friend out. 'douggie, what the fuck? you know that's not true. can it.' Like he's not super assertive about it and he doesn't press the point. But he does instantly drop the whole "i am so clueless and WHIMSICALLLL hehe" persona he'd been playing literally one second before to just speak directly and intelligibly and to the point—and he nails it. Douglas can't separate his fears about scrap from his feelings about diesels but Percy's is basically all 'it's literally so easy to not be a dick... so don't.'

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 26

Eminem x FemReader Fanfiction

Summary : Reader has left the country to try and deal with her breakup with Em. She thinks it's over until she gets a call... from Hailie.

Tags : ANGST, Comfort

Y/N’s POV

You’d been back in France for a few months and you were finally a doctor. You had successfully defended your doctoral dissertation over zoom and it was one of the happiest, most relieving days of your entire life. It was quite an accomplishment and you felt extremely proud. Of course, it wasn’t the whole ordeal it would have been if you had stayed in Michigan : the university would have organized a designated event and you would have invited a lot of people to celebrate this milestone with you. Instead, it had been you, wearing a blazer in front of your computer for a Zoom call with the jury, while people you knew watched the livestream. It was a little sad, for sure, but ultimately, you knew that coming back to France was the best decision for your mental health. 

The breakup with Marshall had taken quite a toll on you and you had not been able to function properly. Everything made you think of him and you had come to the conclusion that you would never heal if you had constant reminders. Talia and Jamal were sad to let you go, but they did it for your sake. Also, you did not want to impose and be a burden for your best friends. A few weeks after the breakup, things had gotten so bad that Talia had to help you shower and monitor your eating. Back then, you weren’t doing much : trying to work on your dissertation and crying, only sleeping when you were exhausted. It wasn’t a proper way to live and you knew it. Hence your decision to go back to France and live with your Dad. For university as well as most people you knew, the official reason for your departure was that you had family issues that required your presence. It was a blatant lie and you felt guilty, but you did what you had to do to go forward. Everyone had been nice and supportive, especially people you knew from the studio. Even Paul was kind to you and, when Jamal told him you were leaving, he even offered for you to take the private jet. You had refused, but you appreciated the thought, even though you suspected that he just wanted to make sure that you were leaving for good and wouldn’t be a disturbance to Marshall’s work life. 

Regardless of the distance, your friends came through for your dissertation defense and they watched the livestream as you achieved your long-term ambition of becoming a doctor. You were truly touched by everyone’s support. They had even sent gifts to be delivered to your place the day after. You were treated to bottles of champagne (from people who did not know you were sober), gourmet baskets, bouquets of flowers… The biggest gift of all, though, came from Marshall. 

FLASHBACK 

Upon landing in Paris, you found that Marshall had tried to reach you while you were on the flight. Of course, you had the urge to call him back, after all the texts you had sent. 

Hello ? You heard his sleepy voice say on the phone. 

Oh my God, am I waking you up ? You asked as you were suddenly reminded of the time difference. 

Mmmh yeah, he said. It’s ok though. Thanks for calling me back. 

Sorry I missed your call, you said sheepishly. I just landed in Paris. 

How was the flight ? He asked. 

Good. Got an upgrade so I flew in business class instead of the coach, so  it was pleasant. 

Good, he said softly. Look, I… I’m sorry it took so long for you to get a hold of me. I completely unplugged and by the time I checked my phone, you were gone. I want you to know that I would have come and said goodbye. I was too late. 

Thank you, you whispered in a sigh of relief. I thought you didn’t want to see me… 

Of course I did, he replied. Also, thank you for the package. Jamal gave it to me and I’m… speechless. You know what I mean ? It means so much. I’m touched. 

You’re welcome, you said. I was afraid it would be too much. 

It’s definitely too much, he said with a small laugh. You shouldn’t spend too much on me. But the pen and the notebook are beautiful. 

I’m glad you like them. They made me think of you. I was saving them for your birthday, but… You know. 

I should have been the one treating you to fancy stuff, he mumbled. If I’d known you’d be leaving, I would at least have arranged for you to fly private. 

I know, you said softly. Paul offered the jet when he knew I was leaving, but I refused. 

Marshall went silent on the phone for a few seconds - enough to make you wonder if he had actually hung up on you. 

I see. I read your letter. I get it, he said. 

I’m sorry, you said flatly. 

I’m sorry, Y/N… I wish I had known you were struggling. I wish you would have called me. 

I couldn’t, you replied in a creaky voice. It’s too hard, Marshall. 

I know, he said softly. But just so you know… You being on another fucking continent doesn’t mean I’m not here if you need, alright ? You can call me if you need anything. I mean it. 

Promise I will, if I ever need a plane, you chuckled. 

You know what I mean, he said sternly. 

I do. Thank you, you said softly. 

Anyway… Congratulations are in order, I guess ? You’re finally done with your work, he said. 

I am, you said with a smile. Thank you. 

Thank you for the acknowledgement, too. That was the sweetest thing ever, he said softly. 

Not too cheesy ? 

Just enough, he said with a laugh. Jamal told me you’d do the whole defense over Zoom and that they’d be watching. Can I watch too ? You know, I would have loved to be here on your big day if it had been in Detroit.

Please don’t, you found yourself saying. I appreciate the support but I just can’t do it if I know you’re watching. 

I get it, he said sheepishly. But I know you’ll do great. I’ll be thinking of you. I always am anyway… 

Thank you, Marshall, you said in a whisper. I always think about you too…

I read that, yeah, he whispered back. 

Silence again. 

I should probably let you sleep, you said. 

…Ok, he replied. Thank you for calling, Y/N. Take care, alright ? 

Bye, you said softly. 

You heard him hang up the phone and whispered “I love you”, on the verge of tears. Now that you were back in France, something painful hit you : it may be the place that you were born, but it wasn’t home. Home was the place you had left six weeks ago. Home was Marshall. And now, you had to start all over again. 

END OF FLASHBACK 

About a week after your dissertation defense, you received the most enormous package you had ever seen in your life. You weren’t even sure how it could have been handled by the postal services. It contained the biggest bouquet of flowers you had ever seen - some real Dubaï Housewife Instagram stuff - a black velvet box containing an exquisite diamond solitaire necklace, as well as a gorgeous watch from Cartier. Of course, it was from Marshall. You didn’t even need to read the card. He knew this watch was your dream one - the one you wanted to get when you had achieved something significant, when you truly became successful. The box also contained a letter, written in his penmanship that you loved so much : 

“Dear Y/N, 

It’s my turn to make a big gesture. Congratulations on your achievement. You were absolutely amazing (unsurprisingly so). I might have hidden in a corner of the room when Talia and Jamal watched your defense (hope you don’t get mad at me). I hope you like the necklace, though it won’t do you justice. The watch is set in the Detroit time zone, just in case you want to call any of us. We’re all thinking of you. Especially me. 

Love you always, 

Marshall.” 

You immediately sent him a thank-you text and the two of you texted for a bit but you didn’t really keep in touch. In the following weeks, your former roommates mentioned him when you were on the phone, but that was about it. You didn’t really know what he was up to, although you guessed he was working, as usual. The only other type of information that you had was from his official social media accounts so, really, there was no way for you to know how he was actually doing, apart from tweets about the Lions games and a few Instagram posts managed by his team. 

Weeks went by and you received a package from Shady Records. It contained a CD version of the new album as well as a small box with a vintage portable CD player and Beats headphones, along with a note from Marshall. 

“Dear Y/N, 

I don’t know if you’re old enough to own anything that can play a CD, so I included one of my own players for you to listen to the album (take good care of it, it’s one of my favorites). We’re finally done with the new album. Thank you for every minute you spent in the studio, for all the time you spent encouraging and listening to me and for all the times you listened to some of these tracks. This album would not be the same without you.

Love, 

Marshall.

PS : whenever you get a CD, always check the booklet :)” 

You knew the album was coming. Jamal had mentioned it, although he was probably not supposed to, knowing how secretive Marshall and his team could be about this. However, holding a physical copy of the album felt different, not to mention how thoughtful and personal the gift from Marshall was. You immediately opened the case and looked at the track list. It included some of the songs you liked the most - some of which you had actually witnessed the recording of. You remembered the times you gave him your opinion and it seemed like he had taken it in consideration. There were some newly recorded tracks as well. 

Before listening, you took a look at the booklet. You found your name in the acknowledgement section. 

“To Y/N. Thank you for everything. You deserve a whole album, but I hope a song will do. Check track n.12”. 

Curiosity got the best of you and, of course, it was the first track you listened to, as you skipped the first eleven ones. It was a track you had never heard before, so you could only assume it was recorded after your breakup. It was a feature with Skylar Grey, a dark, sad yet beautiful love song. It seemed like a conversation between two lovers parting ways. Your heart skipped a beat when you heard a line you distinctively remembered writing in your letter : “Every little thing is a reminder of what once was and will never be again. And being reminded that I had everything and lost it all is too much pain”. 

You shed an emotional tear at the idea that your letter had inspired him to write such beautiful, yet sad lyrics. You listened to the whole album with your eyes closed, letting Marshall’s soothing voice fill your ears. You had always liked the way he could play with his voice, conveying so many different emotions. For a minute, it seemed like he was in the room with you. 

Once you were done, you immediately texted him. With a newly released album, there was no doubt that he would be busy and you didn’t want to disturb him. 

To M : Thank you or the album. And the CD player. And the acknowledgement. And track 12. Loved every second. PS : Let me know if you ever need a ghostwriter again 🙂

Much to your surprise, he responded immediately. 

From M : Glad you liked it. Though I should tell you that ghostwriters usually aren’t credited. 

To M : For you ? I’ll skip the credit. Just write me a big, FAT check. 

From M : Check the booklet again… Credit section. Is wire transfer ok ? 🙂

Your heart skipped another beat. He didn’t… Did he ?! 

You looked at the credits for the song and noticed that the list was surprisingly short compared to the rest of the album, prompting you to think that fewer people had been involved in the making of the track. It mentioned Marshall, Jamal, Skylar Grey and… yourself. Your name was mentioned as a lyricist. 

Without a second thought, you FaceTimed Marshall who immediately picked up with a smile on his face. 

You didn’t !!! You exclaimed. 

I did, he said with a chuckle. That’s your line after all. 

You didn’t need to credit me ! 

You know I give credit where it’s due, he replied. I’ll send a contract your way. I can even get Paul to talk numbers with you. Just keep it reasonable, ok ? It’s one line. 

I don’t want money, you said with a laugh. I just can’t believe you did this. You turned a part of my letter into a song and dedicated that stuff to me ! That’s just…

Yeah ? 

Well that’s crazy, you simply said. 

Well I’m crazy about you, you know ? He mused. 

After all this time ? 

Always. 

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh. 

Harry Potter reference ? You giggled. 

You’ve been on my back about these movies and how I haven’t seen all of them so I caught up, he chuckled. I actually watched the last one a few days ago. 

You should read the books now, you said. 

Not a chance. 

You stared at the screen and watched his face, or at least the part you could see, since he was holding his phone in weird angles, as the boomer and technophobe he very much was. He seemed to have lost a bit of weight but you weren’t too sure. 

Y/N ? He asked as you went silent. 

Sorry, you said. I’m a bit tired. 

Yeah, you look like a panda, he said with a smile. Or a raccoon. 

That’s what happens when you make me cry with your music and acknowledgements, you replied as you playfully rolled your eyes. 

Her smiled and chuckled. Hearing his laugh was medicine. Talking to him felt good too. It was the first time you felt alive in weeks. 

What are you doing ? You asked. Did I wake you up ?

Nope, it’s still daytime here, he said. I’m at home, resting a little and packing my bag for some promo tour. I have a couple interviews planned in New York and LA next week. We’re also looking at actual tour dates for this autumn. 

That’s soon, you pointed out. 

Yeah, it’s a surprise tour, he said. A small one. Just a couple of dates here and there, US and Europe, to see if I can still attract the crowds, I guess. 

Of course you can, you scoffed. People are going to go crazy. Are you excited ? 

Yeah, I like performing, he said with a smile. I don’t really like tour life, though. I’m just afraid I’m a bit rusty. I haven’t done that in a while. 

You’ll do great, you said reassuringly. A couple of sold out stadiums and you’re good. Where are you performing ? 

So far, I think we have Detroit, New York, LA, Berlin, London and Amsterdam, he explained. We’re also talking about some festival dates, but that’ll be for next summer. We’ll see. 

You found yourself a little sad that he didn’t mention Paris. It would have been the perfect excuse and opportunity to see him perform. After all, he was known to put on quite a show. But perhaps it was for the best. Maybe it was a bad idea. After all, you had literally fled to another country so that you could heal from your breakup. Talking to him was one thing, but seeing him in person was another. 

How about you ? He asked. What’s up with your career ? 

My career as a lyricist ? You joked. It’s going great. 

Seriously, I want to know, he said with a smile. 

Not much. I teach a couple of hours a week at university, you said. It’s not a fancy position or anything, and it’s actually ending soon, but it’s the best I could find. I’ll have to apply to other jobs. 

Your students must be lucky to have you, he mused. 

I’m kind of a bitch when it comes to grading, you chuckled. 

Do you enjoy it ? 

Love it, you said with a genuine smile. I can’t wait to  have an actual job in the field and make a living out of it. 

You don’t, yet ? He asked. 

Right now, I don’t work much so the income is not the best, you admitted. But it’s fine. 

You manage to pay the rent alright ? 

I’m living with my Dad so I don’t need to, you shrugged. Plus, you know me, I’m not high maintenance so it’s fine, really… 

You know, if you need money…, he began. 

I don’t, you said. 

Let me at least pay you for the lyrics, he offered. 

Not a chance, you said sternly. If you give me a dime, it means you’re sending the letter back and you don’t want it. 

Fine, he groaned. But can you promise me you’ll be alright ? 

Yes. Promise me you will be alright ? 

Promise. I’m sorry, I have to go, he said with a sad voice. The girls are coming to my place. 

Enjoy, you said softly. It was great talking to you. 

Thanks. Take care, alright ? 

Take care. 

The call ended and, for the first time in weeks, you had an actual smile on your face. You were happy you got to see him and hear his voice. You were also giddy and emotional over the fact that you had a song on his album that you could actually claim as yours. It was by far the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for you. 

Weeks went by and you got a chance to catch a few interviews of Marshall talking about his new record. Obviously, it was doing really well in sales and streams and fans were obsessing over it - yet another surprise album he had quietly dropped after years of anticipation. Track number 12 turned out to be a fan favorite too. You liked watching the interviews as it allowed you to, once more, see and hear him. It was almost like a guilty pleasure and you could get where his Stans were coming from. He was always fascinating. By watching them, you could confirm that he had lost quite a bit of weight. He still looked good, obviously - to you he always did. But you did notice a few comments about his appearance. Some said he looked sick and tired. One journalist even confronted him about it. 

I have to ask, because the Internet is obsessing over it at this point, man. You have lost some weight haven’t you ? 

Yeah, I have, he confirmed quietly. 

Are you on some sort of diet ? 

Nope. I’m just eating healthy, exercising… staying in shape, you know ? 

So you’re healthy ? Everyone seems worried about you. 

I’m good, he chuckled. I’m just not twenty anymore, you know. I’ve been working a lot on the record so that’s probably where the extra wrinkles and dark circles come from. Plus, i kind of had to get fitter. We’ve been shooting a couple of music videos and, at this point, I can officially announce that we’re going on a few surprise dates to perform in a few months, so… if people want to make sure I’m healthy, just come to the shows, ok ? There’s gonna be some dates in the US, UK and Europe, to be announced really really soon. 

He smiled as the audience clapped and easily got the conversation to shift. 

It's quite a surprise isn’t it ? The journalist asked. We haven’t seen you perform in forever ! 

I have to get back into it, right ? I miss the fans, the energy. Recording music is great, but performing, it’s another thing. I like both, you know ? 

Why didn’t you plan more dates ? And why so soon ? 

As I said, man, I have to get back into it. I didn’t want to wait too long to perform the new tracks and that’s kind of the downside when you drop surprise albums like that, you can’t exactly plan a tour easily. Otherwise people will know about what’s coming. Plus, I’m at a point where I’d like to see if I can still sell out venues without advertising a year and a half in advance. 

The interviewer went on to ask some more questions about the tour but Marshall wouldn’t give too much information. 

Eventually, the interview ended and you had to refrain yourself from actually searching for the tour dates and booking tickets for whatever show. You knew it would probably be a mistake. Plus, even though you weren’t strapped for cash, you couldn’t really afford concert tickets and travel. It wouldn’t be reasonable. After a while, you ended up realizing that watching those interviews on loop was messing with your brain. It only made you miss him more and it wasn’t helping you to get better. You were still struggling, even though it was not as bad as when you had left Detroit. You had lost quite a bit of weight too - about thirty pounds to be exact and, even though you fought hard to stay clean, you didn’t exactly lead the healthiest of lifestyles, barely eating and struggling to sleep at night, only passing out when you were exhausted. 

You figured out it was yet another thing to recover from : your addiction to Marshall Bruce Mathers III. You had to, otherwise you would never move forward. Although, as time flew by, you couldn’t help but think that leaving him was your biggest mistake. You didn’t care about kids and marriage nearly as much as you cared about him. But you had to move on. What was done was done, you were in another country and there was no going back. 

At some point, you stopped checking the interviews, even unfollowed him on social media. Eventually, you stopped mentioning him and his music altogether when you spoke with Talia and Jamal. You decided that denial may be the best option you had for the time being. The only thing you did indulge in was track number 12. But only because you were one of the lyricists, so that made it ok, right ? Right ? 

A couple more months went by and it was autumn. You fought against the thought that Marshall would soon be in Europe. Closer than ever. Your contract with university had not been renewed and, in spite of a lot of applications, you hadn’t found a job yet. So you were left alone with your intrusive thoughts and spent most of your days mindlessly watching movies and reading books. You didn’t go out much and most of your social interactions were through your phone, with Talia and Jamal. When it rang, you picked up without even looking at the caller ID. Who else would call anyway ? Hiring season was over, so it wouldn’t be for a job. 

What’s up Talia ? You asked as you closed your book. 

It’s not Talia, you heard Hailie’s voice say. 

Your heart immediately began to race. If she was calling you, it couldn’t be good. After your last interactions, it was clear that she wasn’t your biggest fan and wouldn’t be calling to check up on you and have some girly chat anytime soon. For a second, you were worried that she was calling to tell you something awful had happened to Marshall. 

Oh my God, what’s wrong ? What happened to him ? You immediately asked. 

What ? She asked. 

You’re calling me. We both know it can’t be good. 

You heard her sigh on the other end of the phone. 

You’re right, it’s not, she said. 

What’s wrong ? 

What’s wrong is that Dad is miserable without you, she stated. What’s wrong is that you left him months ago and now he is a mess. 

I was trying to do the right thing, you said sheepishly. I guess you made some pretty valid points, Hailie... 

Look, I hate to admit it, but I was wrong about some of it, she said in an annoyed voice. I guess you made him happy and that you were good for him after all. I’m… sorry for saying some of those mean things. 

Thank you, you whispered. 

Did you really love him ? She asked. 

Of course, you said. With all of my heart. 

Do you still ? 

I… Yeah, you sighed. I do. 

Then I need a favor, she said. 

You were surprised. Hailie calling you was the last thing you expected. Especially not for a favor. You knew how proud she could be. 

Go on, you said. I can’t promise I’ll say yes, though. 

Will you please come to the Amsterdam show ? She asked. It’s the last of the tour and it falls on his birthday.

Do you think it’s a good idea ? You asked. I’m not even sure he would want me there. 

He still loves you, Y/N, she sighed. Of course he would want to see you. Look… Do you want to be with him or not ? 

You sighed. Of course you wanted to be with him. In fact, it was the only certainty you had about your future : that you actually wanted to be with him. You had done a lot of soul-searching in the past months, and you had come to the conclusion that, even though you had always wanted to get married and have kids, you didn’t care as much about your hypothetical future husband and kids as much as you cared about Marshall. When you imagined your future, you only saw him. You had ever met anybody as good for you as him. 

Y/N ? Hailie asked after you’d been silent for a minute. 

Sorry, you said. Yes, I do. I want to be with him. 

Then please come to Amsterdam and get back with Dad, she said. He needs you. I’m still mad at you, but I’m not too proud to admit that you were good for him after all. Looking back, I had never seen him so happy than when you were in his life. 

Are you actually giving me your blessing to date your dad ? You asked in disbelief. 

Don’t read too much into it, she said in an annoyed voice. If you’re what it takes to make him happy again, I will find a way to put up with you. I’ll e-mail you with your plane tickets and we’ll discuss the details later ok ? 

I’ll get my own, you said with sass. I would hate for you to think that I’m taking advantage of your family money. 

Please shut up, she groaned. I’m doing my best to be nice to you and you’re not making it easy. I will book your tickets and you will accept them. 

Thank you, you said as you eased up a little. 

I’ll talk to you soon, ok ? For the details of the surprise and stuff, Hailie said. 

Ok, you said. By the way… I heard you guys were engaged. Congratulations. 

Oh you heard about that ? She asked as you could hear her smile. Congrats on the PhD. 

Thank you. 

You smiled. You were pretty sure she still despised you, but at least, these words meant that you could be civil towards one another. After another exchange of words, you said your goodbyes and you felt your heart pounding in your chest. After nearly six months apart, you were going to see the love of your life. 

In the following weeks, leading up to your trip to Amsterdam, you were a nervous mess and Talia spent a lot of time on the phone with you, convincing you that it was, indeed, a good idea. For the first time in months, you were looking forward to something and it was quite a feat. Hailie had booked first class tickets from Paris to Amsterdam, which was extremely generous. It seemed like she was intent on making it a good surprise for Marshall and convincing you to come. She even texted back and forth with you to make sure you were actually coming and would not miss the flight. She even bought a fancy hotel room for you, just in case. 

When you got out of the plane, she was waiting for you, along with Stevie and Alaina. The reunion with Hailie was a bit awkward but her sisters were all smiles. You made small talk in the car that was taking you from Schiphol Airport to the hotel everyone was staying at. 

How was your flight ? Hailie asked in an attempt to make small talk. 

It was good, you said shyly. Thank you again for the first class ticket. I would have flown in economy, though. It’s a short trip. 

Well, we want the surprise to go well, Stevie giggled. Putting you in a good mood is part of the plan. 

Shouldn’t you be spending the day with him ? You asked. 

We arrived in Amsterdam yesterday to surprise him, Alaina explained. We also spent this morning with him but now he is doing sound-checks and rehearsals. He won’t even notice we’re gone. 

So, what’s the plan ? You asked. 

We have a few hours before the show, Hailie said. We’ll sneak you in the arena with a bit of help from Porter and Paul. We’ll hide in the crowd during the show and go backstage afterwards, so that you can go and see him. 

Ok, you said nervously. 

You stared at the three of them. The whole situation was definitely weird. 

Don’t be nervous, Alaina said with a smile. It’ll be fine. 

It’s been six months, you said sheepishly. What if he’s mad at me ? 

He’s not mad at you, Hailie said softly. He misses you. A lot. 

Are you sure ? 

In the past few months, we’ve never seen him as happy as the few times he got off the phone with you or texted you, Stevie said. 

You know about that ? You asked in confusion. 

Here’s the thing about Dad, Hailie said with a grin. He believes he’s not letting on, but he sucks at hiding anything from us. 

Doesn’t help that he doesn’t know how to lock his phone, Stevie giggled. 

So you… snooped ? 

Believe me, if you’d seen him, you’d have done the same thing, Hailie sighed. At some point, I was scared that he would relapse or something. So I checked his phone to make sure he didn’t have a drug dealer. That’s how I saw your texts. So I told my sisters. 

And as time went on and he wasn’t doing better, we decided to help  the two of you get back together, Alaina said. 

Was it that bad ? You asked in a worried voice. 

He’s a bit better now, Alaina said reassuringly. Touring helps getting his mind off things. But yeah… He wasn’t doing too good. 

You nodded. You had no idea it was that bad. The thought of him being unhappy broke your heart. After all, on the rare occasions the two of you had talked, he seemed to be doing alright. But obviously, you weren’t there and his daughters knew best. 

I’m sorry he had to go through this, you said on the verge of tears. And you too. Do you think he will forgive me ? 

It’s not your fault, Alaina said. You’re the one who left but, from what I gather, you had your reasons and relationships end all the time. We wouldn’t have had you come all this way if we weren’t sure of what we were doing. No one’s mad at you. 

Well, I am, Hailie said sternly. But it’s not about Dad. So, yeah. 

And how about… you girls ? You asked Alaina and Stevie, whose stance you didn’t know about. 

I couldn’t care less, Stevie shrugged. I mean, it’s Dad, so it’s weird to think of him being with someone but I guess I’m glad he found someone who is actually willing to put up with him. Didn’t think it would happen, so… 

Steve ! Alaina giggled. But yeah, she’s not wrong. You know, Dad was single for so long, we were a bit worried. All we want is for him to be happy. 

Ok, you said shyly. 

It was reassuring to know that they didn’t hate you. Still, you were a bit unsure how you should navigate the situation. 

We have a few hours before the show. We can get you set in your hotel room and after, we can do some shopping and help you find an outfit if you don’t have one, Hailie offered. 

You looked at your outfit. It was nothing extravagant but you had made an effort to find clothes that fit you pretty well - which was a challenge since you had lost weight and your whole closet had become at least two sizes too big. You were wearing a casual short black dress, black tights, leather boots and the jacket Marshall had bought for you in New York. 

What’s wrong with my outfit ? You asked. I didn’t think I would need to dress up for an Eminem concert… 

Not the concert, Alaina giggled. For Dad’s birthday dinner, tomorrow night. Hailie told you, right ? 

Oh my God, I forgot, Hailie said. I’m so sorry ! I’ve been so busy with planning… So, basically, we’re just celebrating casually after the show tonight, dinner in his suite. But we’re staying and enjoying Amsterdam for a few days after, and tomorrow, we arranged for people to fly in and have dinner to celebrate Dad’s birthday as well as the album’s success. Porter is already here, obviously, but Talia and Jamal are coming too, Royce, Dre and Fifty as well. 

Are you sure I should be here tomorrow ? You asked, definitely nervous. I’m happy to just leave you guys to it, you know… 

Believe me, if I have to be there, so do you, Stevie chuckled. 

I’m definitely having the two of you sit next to each other, Hailie sighed. It’s Dad’s birthday, make an effort. Of course you should be here, Y/N. You’re his girlfriend. 

Not yet, you pointed out. We’re not even sure he wants me back. What if it goes wrong ? 

It won’t, Alaina said. Just relax. Look… I shouldn’t tell you, but I know for a fact that he made plans to fly to Paris after the tour. He wanted to see you. You’re just beating him to it. 

Ok, you said nervously. I’m sorry, I know I sound like a broken record, it’s just… I guess I’ll feel better when I see him. 

When you got to the hotel, they took you to the room that had been booked for you. Then, they convinced you to do some shopping. Apparently, the next night’s dinner was to be held in the hotel restaurant, which was five star. You were a bit nervous since it was your first time shopping in six months but they helped you find a nice outfit. 

Hours later, you were in the crowd, waiting for the show to start, nervously playing with your pendant, which had never left your neck. 

Is that Dad’s pendant ? Alaina asked. 

Yes, you said. He gave it to me when we first met, to wish me luck on my recovery journey. I never really took it off. 

For how long have you been sober ? 

Almost a year and a half now, you explained. It would have been longer but I relapsed a while ago. But Marshall… He helped me through it. And I’ve been sober ever since. I owe him everything. 

Even after the breakup ? She mused. 

Well, yeah… I mean, the only thing that kept me from using again and numbing the pain with pills was that I wouldn’t want him to be disappointed, you said earnestly. He changed my life. He is the reason why I got better and stuck to it. 

You guys are good for each other, she pointed out. 

I don’t know, you replied. But… If he lets me, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be good enough for him. 

Taking you by surprise, she engulfed you into a big hug.

Thank you for coming, she whispered. And thank you for loving him like this. I know Hailie is mad at you, and Stevie is just grumpy to be without her boyfriend, but… We’re really thankful for you, you know ? 

You hugged her back and smiled as the show started. Suddenly, you understood what the big deal surrounding Eminem was. He was clearly born to perform and make music, he was literally oozing charisma. He was wearing jeans, sneakers and a simple black tee-shirt. Obviously, he didn’t need anything else to look good. You were literally unable to take your eyes off him. 

Now, he said on the mic, we’re gonna perform a very special song. It’s my favorite one on the album and I know you guys love it. I need someone for that. Please welcome the incredible Skylar Grey, Amsterdam !!! 

Everyone cheered as the singer stepped on stage and the first notes played. You knew what was coming : your song. Track 12. For three minutes and thirty seconds, the whole crowd sang along to the words of the most beautiful song ever written. It felt like they were singing it for you. You were flabbergasted and overcome with emotion : your mouth was wide open and tears were welling in your eyes. Hailie, Alaina and Stevie smiled at you, rubbing your shoulders. 

Marshall and Skylar performed a couple more songs together and the show came to an end, with the crowd singing happy birthday to Marshall, who was smiling. Seeing him on stage made you fall for him all over again. When the crowd started to vacate, the girls took you backstage and Porter immediately came to greet you, as well as a few other people you knew from the studio. 

We’re on a mission here, Hailie recalled. No one is supposed to see her before him. Where is he ? 

Showering in his dressing room, Porter said. Paul is searching for you girls. Something about guests for tomorrow… 

Can you take her while we sort this out ? She asked. 

He nodded and she gave you a pat on the shoulder. 

Breathe, she said. 

Ok. 

As Porter led you to the corridor, he made small talk. 

It’s great that you could make it, he said. We all miss you at the studio, you know ? 

I miss you guys too, you said with a smile. I had to go back because of some family stuff. 

Quit lying, he chuckled. Marshall told me about the two of you. 

Oh, you said, embarrassed to be caught in a lie. Who else knows ? 

I think I’m the only one, he shrugged. Paul had suspicions, though. Here we are. 

You were in front of a closed door and, suddenly, it became real : you were about to see Marshall after six months. You weren’t sure if you were about to faint or not. Before you got cold feet, Porter knocked on the door. No answer. 

Bro, it’s me, he said. I have a birthday surprise for you. 

Can this wait ? You heard Marshall’s voice say. I just got out the shower. 

No. Open the door now, his friend insisted. Someone is here for you.

I swear, if it’s that prostitute joke, I’ll kill you. 

Believe me, this one is out of my price range, Porter giggled. 

The door swung open and you were faced with a shirtless Marshall, looking at you in shock, his jaw almost on the floor. You were staring at each other but none of you said a word. 

I’ll leave you guys to it, Porter said with a wink. Happy birthday, man. 

Hey, you whispered. Happy birthday. 

[dw19791967]

That Type of Girl Part 3

Pairing: Dean x reader (Eventual), Sam x reader (Platonic)

Warnings: language, unrequited love, angst, mentions of torture, mentions of self-hate.

This is the third fic I have ever written, all mistakes are my own. Please be gentle on me!

______________________________

What does one wear to church? I wouldn’t know since I never really went as a kid and as an adult well, once you know who God really is, it can be hard to get past that. 

I decided on a long oversized maroon sweater, black leggings, and boots. I never really was a heels girl. Sure, I could handle a wedge or boots with a chunky heel, but I definitely wasn’t the type to wear six inch heels. I decided to leave my hair in its natural state, but I did twist my bangs together and pinned them back. I can’t braid, no matter how many times I have tried to learn. So twisting two pieces together is my go to, especially to get hair out of my face. I applied my regular makeup routine. I do it for me, not to impress people. I may be overweight and unappealing in other aspects but my makeup is something I am proud of. Years of practice have helped make it easy, and quick.

I walked out of the bathroom ready to go. “Alright boys, let’s do this.”

__________________

When we arrived at the church not a ton people were there. There was a small group gathered. A few women, they seemed to be in their late 20’s and a couple of men who seemed to be around the same age.

“Ok Y/N you ready? Remember, Dean and I will be here if you need us. We are going to try to scope the place out a bit” Sam looked at me. I am glad he was confident in my people skills, cause right now I am not. I do fine talking with people I know and even strangers. But the pressure of trying to force a conversation can be a struggle sometimes. And since Dean didn’t seem too confident in my skills earlier, I have been dreading this. How is it that the man who is supposedly my best friend, doesn’t believe I am capable of doing something I have done a hundred times before. 

“I guess.” I started heading towards the group of people.

__________________

We just arrived back at the motel. Sam sat down next to me “Well we found nothing, we checked all over the place. Nothing suspicious, no sulfur or EMF.” 

“Yeah and all the single chicks were a bust too.” Dean smiled.

Of course he would be worried about chasing tail.

I sighed. “Ok, I talked to a group of people at the church. They mentioned a guy Sarah worked with, his name was Ryan not sure on last name (Sarah was the most recent victim). They also mentioned Sarah had a crush on a dude at the church, Marshall. And last one, she had talked to Rick quite a bit at the church. One of the ladies said Rick has just been in town the last 2 weeks. Something seems off with Rick, but I’m not really sure what.” I looked over the case files again. I always like to make sure I am not missing anything.

“Well since we are at a stand still, I say it’s time to hit the bar. We need a break from researching and thinking.” Dean stood up.

“Maybe you're right, we can take a break and come back to it later.” Sam looked at me. “What do you say Y/N?”

“I think I’m going to stay here, try to figure out what is happening. Something is wrong in this whole equation.” I kept reading the files. I am also not in the mood to see Dean flirt tonight. But I will keep that thought to myself.

“Well party pooper, call if you need us.” Dean patted my shoulder. 

Maybe a break from the boys will do me some good.

I had just changed into a t-shirt and took my makeup off when there was a knock at the door. I figured one of the boys was back and forgot their key.

“I swear you guys can’t survive without me.” I headed for the door.

I cracked the door open. Rick. What the hell is he doing here?

“Hi Y/N, I hope you don’t mind me stopping by. I just wanted to check on you and see if you maybe needed anything.” He rubbed the back of his neck. A nervous tick maybe.

“Um, I appreciate that. How did you know I was here?” This is weird for sure.

“Oh my aunt owns this motel, so I checked with her and she said you were here. She also mentioned you had two guys with you. Are you going to let me in?” He smiled at me.

“Uh, I guess.” I grabbed my knife and stuck it in the back of my leggings. A girl can never be too safe.

“So who are the guys here with you, brothers?” Rick made his way into the room.

“No, just friends. They came to be supportive. Can I get you a beer or water?” I had told the group of people at the church I was a cousin of Sarah’s, since she had no family in town it was an easy lie.

“I’ll have a beer, thanks.” I handed him the drink. “So where are your friends?”

“Out, they should be back shortly.” I was getting nervous. Something was not right here. 

“Oh I doubt that Y/N. You know Dean always enjoys working on his night moves.” Rick's eyes flashed black. Next thing I know everything went black.

Oh I am so screwed.

_______________

“Wakey, wakey sunshine. God, I can’t believe how stupid you are for a hunter. Who the hell lets someone they barely know into their hotel room?" Rick poked at me.

We were in an abandoned warehouse. I was cuffed to a chair. This wasn’t exactly how I planned on my night going.

“Well, what can I say? I’m prone to making stupid decisions. So why don’t we just cut the foreplay. What do you want? ” I smiled.

Whack. Damn. I almost had forgotten what it was like to get the shit knocked out of me.

“You know, all of the women I took. There was nothing exciting about them. I mean they wonder why they are single. Maybe it’s because they are so damn boring. But you, I mean besides being overweight and homely, there's a certain spark to you. And once I found out you were a hunter, well you had to be my next victim.” He smoothed my hair out.

“So are you doing this for shits and giggles or is there a bigger agenda you are playing into?” He made his way over to a table and brought back a knife. Great.

“Oh sweet Y/N, of course I am doing this for me. You see, I have played by all the rules and followed the main man's plan. But it’s time for me to shine and this is just the beginning. So whatcha say, are you ready to have some fun?” Rick started to slice into my arm.

Lucky for me, I have a high pain tolerance.

“You see, you were an easy target. Your self esteem is so low. Plus can’t forget your little crush on the elder Winchester. What makes you think he would ever look at you twice?” Rick now started slicing my thighs. “I mean you have a pretty face for sure, but you know Dean prefers his women slim. You will never be that type of girl ya know?”

“Screw you. You don’t know the first thing about me. I mean you do realize anything you say to me, I have either heard or said it to myself a thousand times before? Way to be creative.” I laughed. I have always been stubborn. I’m sure as hell not going to stop now.

“You know, you are really starting to get on my nerves. How about I find a way to shut that pretty mouth up. I doubt the Winchesters would even miss your annoying ass.” Rick punched me in the face.

I spit blood out of my mouth. I hope he gets this over with soon.

Tag List:

@hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog

@deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist

[discar]

HZD Terraforming Base-001 Text Communications Network

Chapter 46 | Prev chapter | Next chapter Chapter Index

DIVINER: Aloy! Have you saved everyone yet??

FlameHairSavior: What?

FlameHairSavior: Alva, it's early and I had a long night.

DIVINER: Because you saved everyone already??

FlameHairSavior: No, sort of the opposite.

β: wait you killed everyone

DIVINER: [Betrayal.gif]

ADMIN [Zo]: I'm sure she didn't mean it like that.

FlameHairSavior: Yeah, no, just...

FlameHairSavior: Look, I have a headache, can't you just watch my focus recordings?

DIVINER: That would take hours! Even with fast-forward!

HIMBO: YEAH, MOST OF IT IS JUST WATCHING YOU RUN AROUND THE BEACH OPENING BOXES.

FlameHairSavior: ...you already tried to watch me?

HIMBO: KOTALLO THOUGHT IT WOULD BE FASTER.

MARSHAL Kotallo: Specifically, I thought it might be a more effective way of obtaining an after-action report. We watched your arrival to the area, up to destroying the defense tower.

MARSHAL Kotallo: Even with what you had already told us, we could barely follow what was happening.

β: you move fast

HIMBO: DID YOU KNOW YOU MUTTER TO YOURSELF A LOT?

ADMIN [Zo]: Really, that's the only reason I could follow at all.

FlameHairSavior: Fine, just let me eat breakfast first.

DIVINER: Yay!

----

FlameHairSavior: All right, I'm awake.

β: did you stay up too late with your new girlfriend

FlameHairSavior: Sort of.

HIMBO: HA!

FlameHairSavior: Wait. Was that a joke?

β: yes

ADMIN [Zo]: It's good that you are getting some of your own.

HIMBO: YOU'RE OFFICIALLY LESS SHELTERED THAN YOUR SISTER!

β: i think it just means ive watched more stupid romantic comedies and sitcoms

HIMBO: IF I PRETEND TO KNOW WHAT THOSE ARE, CAN WE MOVE ON?

DIVINER: Aloy, PLEASE tell me you found some movie archives!! The context you all lack is killing me!

MARSHAL Kotallo: ...I think she was busy trying to rescue your people?

DIVINER: That's more important, obviously!!

FlameHairSavior: No archives yet. Just...

ADMIN [Zo]: Why don't you start from the beginning?

FlameHairSavior: Right.

FlameHairSavior: Seyka and I found a ruin where all the missing Quen had been working. It was Londra's old headquarters, or at least one of his major bases. He was having the Quen dig it up because he needed something.

FlameHairSavior: A few of them were worked to death.

DIVINER: And none of the Quen objected to this? We have labor laws.

FlameHairSavior: He is literally a Living Ancestor with incredible power come down from the heavens. He's got them all wrapped around his finger. He's promised them...

FlameHairSavior: I'll get to that later. We didn't find out much about his relationship with them in this first ruin.

DIVINER: Still, I can imagine. We're taught that the Ancestors are the font of all knowledge. If an actual Ancestor came down and was just a little clever...

MARSHAL Kotallo: Aloy said all the Diviners were dead. Do you think that things would have been different if there had been any left?

DIVINER: I don't know.

FlameHairSavior: I think Londra would have just recruited the non-Diviners. His little workforce isn't the entire expedition, just a big chunk.

HIMBO: YEAH, THAT'S HOW CULTS WORK. YOU REMEMBER THE ECLIPSE. THEY DIDN'T TRY TO RECRUIT ME, THEY TRIED TO RECRUIT THE ONES WHO WEREN'T LOYAL.

β: i thought they were racist why would they ever recruit you

HIMBO: YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.

FlameHairSavior: Anyway. Londra has some sort of AI, Nova, sorting through data for him. We found a security recording. Londra was looking for some project called "MSP" and had it transferred somewhere else.

FlameHairSavior: He also mentioned running from Nemesis. I... might have bungled that part with Seyka.

MARSHAL Kotallo: You explained Nemesis to her? Well done.

MARSHAL Kotallo: A soldier cannot fight an enemy with incomplete information.

ADMIN [Zo]: I do wish we could tell more people. A blight is best fought by all hands working together.

DIVINER: I know we can't tell EVERYONE, but I think it's a good idea to at least tell our closest allies!

HIMBO: I EXPECTED YOU TO TRY TO AVOID THE SUBJECT.

FlameHairSavior: ...

β: you avoided the subject didnt you

FlameHairSavior: Look, there's... Seyka was clearly emotionally compromised, she's looking for her sister and I was annoyed that she was hiding something from me...

FlameHairSavior: I wanted to at least wait until we find her people. So she's not distracted.

DIVINER: That's... maybe a bad idea?

DIVINER: Won't she be mad?

MARSHAL Kotallo: Ultimately, Aloy is the one on the ground. We must trust her judgment.

FlameHairSavior: Anyway.

FlameHairSavior: We found Londra's second facility easily enough. He was siphoning power from a nearby Horus for a shield, but we disabled the siphons and got inside.

ADMIN [Zo]: Wait. A Horus as in a Metal Devil?

FlameHairSavior: Inactive, of course.

MARSHAL Kotallo: Thank the Ten for that.

HIMBO: JUST A HEAD'S UP, IF YOU EVER FIND AN ACTIVE ONE, I THINK WE ALL NEED TO HEAR ABOUT IT.

FlameHairSavior: Noted. So we got inside, found the Quen, but managed to convince them we were there for the... "Ascension Hall" to... "embrace his light."

HIMBO: CULT. CALLED IT.

FlameHairSavior: Yeah. It's basically a museum to Londra, with a "devotion test" to see if you're worthy of "ascending from this world."

β: i think i see where this is going

Icarus: From what little I was able to glean, every single Zenith agreed on fleeing Earth before Nemesis arrives. They just had disagreements on how best to do so.

DIVINER: As horrifying as all this sounds, I have to at least give him credit for thinking to use the locals more! Why didn't more of the Zeniths do some basic politics?

Icarus: Politics take time, even with an overwhelming technological advantage to scare the locals into compliance. They had the keys to the kingdom, why bother talking to the peasants?

Icarus: By the time they might have considered the possibility, they had already antagonized everyone.

ADMIN [Zo]: Speaking from personal experience, I take it?

FlameHairSavior: Anyway, the museum talked about Londra's relationships with his friends and wife, his favorite bodyguard, blah blah.

FlameHairSavior: He's pretty clearly the guy who wants adoring fans who don't disagree with him. That's what he thinks friends are.

HIMBO: AREN'T YOU HAPPY YOU GOT US INSTEAD?

FlameHairSavior: Most of you, at least.

HIMBO: OUCH!

FlameHairSavior: So we got through the door, it was annoying, found what he's doing.

FlameHairSavior: Londra co-opted the printer of the Horus to make himself a spaceship. But it's too small to take all the Quen, or even all the Quen who are following him. He's leaving most of them behind.

FlameHairSavior: Also, the launch will irradiate the land for a thousand miles, killing everything in the region.

HIMBO: BASTARD.

β: you can see the logic

HIMBO: YEAH, WE'RE ALL ALREADY DEAD, SO HE DOESN'T CARE ABOUT KILLING US.

HIMBO: HE'S STILL A BASTARD.

β: not disagreeing

FlameHairSavior: The Quen soldiers came in while I was explaining all this to Seyka. They finally realized we were imposters. Still, they started shooting REALLY fast. They didn't even blink at Seyka being Quen.

DIVINER: That's... odd. I know you had a bad first impression, and our soldiers can certainly be xenophobic, but they shouldn't be so quick to attack another Quen! Especially if she was wearing a focus! Surely they would have considered she might be a Diviner!

FlameHairSavior: Yeah, I think something is up with them. I don't know if it's just Londra's cult or something else.

FlameHairSavior: So after the fight, the rest of the Quen found out they're being left behind.

MARSHAL Kotallo: Wait. You fought how many soldiers by yourself?

FlameHairSavior: I don't know. A dozen? Maybe two? Oh, and the boss had this Zenith-tech weapon that makes things explode. I might be able to use it.

MARSHAL Kotallo: And you did this with just yourself and the Quen woman.

HIMBO: THIS SURPRISES YOU?

MARSHAL Kotallo: No, I simply wanted to remind everyone that Aloy is terrifying.

FlameHairSavior: Funny.

FlameHairSavior: Well, I did tell Seyka about Nemesis after all. She... didn't take it well.

β: you get used to the existential angst after a while

FlameHairSavior: Yeah, I was really worried about her for a bit there.

FlameHairSavior: I was afraid she might give up on me after that, which would have been terrible.

β: erend

HIMBO: UPDATING THE ODDS AS WE SPEAK.

FlameHairSavior: What are you even talking about?

DIVINER: We can't tell you! It might foul the results!

FlameHairSavior: Fine. Anyway, we know where Londra's headquarters is, something called "the park." It has another tower, but I'm going to override a waterwing to get there. It can dive into the water, so we should be able to dodge the tower's shots.

β: she called me for help with that part

FlameHairSavior: Yeah, and now I'm just scrounging up the parts for the override.

DIVINER: But what about Seyka??

DIVINER: Did you talk to her?? Is she still on the team??

FlameHairSavior: Yes, yes, I did talk to Seyka. I think we're doing better now.

HIMBO: VERY INTERESTING.

FlameHairSavior: Now you're just doing it on purpose.

HIMBO: YEP!

ADMIN [Zo]: Personally, I find this all fascinating.

HIMBO: ODDS ARE LOOKING LIKE YOU'RE GOING TO LOSE THE POOL, THOUGH.

ADMIN [Zo]: I consider that a small price to pay.

FlameHairSavior: I hate you all.

Chapter 46 | Prev chapter | Next chapter Chapter Index

[jaspxr]

(And on and on we'll go) 'Til my shadow turns to sun rays

Summary: It's Hotch's birthday. He feels sorry for himself and hates the Sun.

Warnings: Food mention, Spoilers for later seasons

Pairings: None

Words: 1.1k

My entry for @hotch-central 's Hotch Birthday celebration. Happy Birthday, old man.

His eyes were burning.

Aaron stirred, and in his disorientated state it took him some time to realize where he was. His back was aching, his double-socked feet were freezing and a stubborn sunbeam was shining directly in his eyes. He was in his bed, or what was supposed to be his bed for the next two weeks. Being in Witness protection was bad enough on a good day, let alone after the second move in three months because of a security breach and a town sheriff recognizing him from a BAU case years ago.

No. It was too early in the day to be thinking about the BAU, about everything, everyone you had to leave behind.

He knew it was selfish to wallow in self-pity, especially since Jack had it so much worse. They were finally settling in when they got the call that they were being temporarily relocated to a cabin in the middle of Nowhere, Colorado. Jack had finally stopped giving him monosyllabic answers to questions and any sort of parental prodding, he even found his footing in the new school and now it seemed like they were going to have to do it all over again. Two weeks in a cozy cabin with unreliable water pipes and heating, rustic looking wooden furnaces and a library nook. A short glamping vacation, his designated marshal has called it. Glamping.

Well, James…if this marshalling thing doesn’t work out, you have a career in real estate, because you definitely oversold the cozy aspect…

The sound of falling pots and pans roused him from his thoughts and the surge of adrenaline got him sitting up and reaching for the gun in the night stand before the rest of his body could decide if that was the right action for his current state.

It wasn’t.

The moment he sat up his back erupted in flames and bright and shiny dots started dancing in his field of vision. What was worse, they wouldn’t go away no matter how much he shook his head. With the frequency that this was happening lately, he was sure his field days were very much behind him. Maybe even his earthly days if he didn't get himself checked over soon.

You are never going back, you old fool. The Bureau is functioning perfectly fine without you. By the time this is over, nobody will remember you.

After a while, he was convinced he could try and stand up. Jack might be in danger and if he doesn’t protect his son, these torturous months of isolation and unhappiness and constant fights will all be for nothing.  

Fortunately, he was saved from any other action against the possible threat by the quiet string of curses in a familiar voice that cracked a bit more every day.

Is he saying ‘fudge’? Oh Jessica..I miss you and your swearing. Maybe you should have taught him the real thing so I’d have you to blame…

“Jack? Is everything okay?” he croaked, noticing the time for the first time since his abrupt waking. He slept in. And his throat hurt too.

“Jack?”

More cursing and then finally an answer.

“Yes.”

“Are you making breakfast for yourself?”

“Yes.”

Hotch sighed. Somehow it was still too early for this. He tried to remember what worked last time Jack was this closed off. The arcade. Except they were in the middle of nowhere with only eachother for company, and unless he managed to train the squirrels to simulate Pacman with the acorns Jack collected yesterday, he was in for a very quiet two weeks and a lot of sulking.

He laid back down and swung his arm over his eyes. Why was there so much sun this late in autumn? He decided he was going to stay in the room for a little while longer. His back was still on fire from the lumpy mattress and if it was one of Jack's bad days, one wrong look and he’d abandon his breakfast and then they’d both regret it by dinner. They needed to talk, but words were hard when you couldn’t offer any reassurance except that it'll all be over soon. When? Who knows.

I guess Peter Lewis knows.

It wasn’t all bad. Jack was a good child, and by some miracle he still loved his father, despite everything he put him through. They would get over this hump soon and maybe truly make an adventure out of the miserable hand fate had dealt them lately. The worst thing was when he started asking about Jess and home. And judging by previous months, they were scheduled to have one of those conversations soon.

Speaking of…

Just as he was about to drift off and let himself marinate in some spicy self-inflicted self-pity, there was a shuffle of feet near his room and Jack came in.

“Dad?”

“Buddy, I don’t know when we can go home. I can ask the marshal next time he visits, okay? I want to go home too, you know that...” Hotch sighed, his arm still shielding him from the stubborn sun rays.

“No, I know. It’s not that. Dad…” Jack paused. Hotch could hear him squirm and could just imagine him biting his lip. He always did that when he was nervous about something. Something big.

Stop profiling your son.

“Dad, can you please look at me?” Jack continued and moved closer to the edge of the bed. Hotch was surprised to hear it groan a little bit, which signaled to him that Jack sat down. He wasn’t sure what either of them did to make such quick progress, but he was not going to analyze it. Not today.

Hotch reluctantly righted himself, opened his eyes that were still blurry from his first attempt at waking. Immediately he found another reason for keeping his vision blurry and unfocused: Sitting in front of him, still in his pajamas, was his son, holding a plate full of pancakes with candles sticking out of them.

Oh Buddy…

Before he could stop himself, the tears just started flowing. Jack’s slight, tentative smile faded.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad! I just…Auntie Jess never taught me how to make a cake, so this is the only thing I could make…and we don’t even have maple syrup, just that pancake stuff…” Jack continued rambling and it took Hotch several tries to get him to stop.

“Buddy, no, please! This is perfect. You are perfect. Thank you so much.” They both stopped and took a moment to center themselves. That they had in common.

“Yeah. You looked like you could do with some cheering up.” Jack shrugged, his voice now quiet and slightly trembling, and then he reached for Hotch’s cheek and wiped the two trails of tears that were still on his face.

“Happy Birthday, Dad.”

[lovelessdagger]

Starlight - Chapter 37: Where it Began

Pairing: Din Djarin x OC

Rating: Mature

Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Smut

WARNINGS: Explicit Language. Explicit Sexual Content. Talk of Mental Illness.

Words: 10.7k

Summary:  If Din couldn’t run away then, he sure as hell can’t now. His dignity is already lost, and he’s proven to be too weak to escape fate.

Masterlist | Starlight Masterlist | AO3 | Prev | Next

Tatooine is hotter than Din remembers, the automatic cooling system of his suit on overdrive. Twin suns beam down at high noon, the public of Mos Espa flocking to shade. His footsteps mark in the sand and Grogu grows restless off the transit in a satchel across his body. Together they make way in the city center, towards a building of scandal and bustling populous. The option had been displayed to meet at a more reasonable and less horrific time of heat. He could never be so kind to himself as to accept.

His company sits at a back table, soiled boots on polished wood, nursing a cup of Maker knows what. “You’re late,” she says. “I was beginning think you bailed.”

“Fennec,” he greets. “You don’t sound too upset by the prospect.”

“I would have chalked it up to divine intervention.”

He glances behind to the entrance. “The Force?” 

A pair of Twi’leks approach, offering to clean his helmet. Fennec waves them away and orders another drink. Her stomach, she says, makes alcohol more like a juice. She lives to indulge.

“Why did you agree to come?” She asks.

He chooses not to answer, taking internal inventory of the room. Once deciding it safe, he allows the Child to roam free. He runs to the band, cheering for the attention of the Ortolan. “What is this place?”

“The Sanctuary. I thought it fitting.” She tosses a bag of credits. “I’m hiring you on for a job.”

“A job?”

“Call it a favor if it makes you feel better.”

“Since when do I owe you a favor?”

“Since you left me shot for dead a year ago.”

“It’s been that long?”

She shrugs. “And some change. Say yes, it’s easy money.”

“I thought Fett called the shots. He know you’re here?”

“He does.” Feeling Din’s surprise she adds, “Mostly. It’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission.”

He responds, “Not always.”

“In this case it is. Do you remember the Marshal who used Boba’s armor?”

“Course. Cobb Vanth.”

“Are you friendly?”

“I killed a krayt dragon for his people. Planned on leaving the kid in his care if something were to happen so—” his head bobs “—you could say that.”

“How’d you like to pay him a visit?”

“What’s happened?”

“Nothing tragic, don’t worry.” She takes a swig, briefly offering the drink to Din. “All I need is for you to talk to him, do some of that convincing you’re so good at.”

“For?”

“There’s a treaty we need signed with Mos Pelgo—Freetown. Unification is important to Fett. All we ask is they recognize Boba as Daimyo and agree to follow a new constitution of laws.”

“Marshal Vanth’s a smart man,” Din says. “He’s fought hard to keep his people free. Won’t give into city say-so’s.”

“Believe me there are far more benefits than cons. Fett is shockingly well versed in politics. The treaty is brilliant.”

“If it’s so great why do you need me?”

“Because we need this signed, you’re our best shot at getting a yes. This is more than giving Boba more power or tribute. He wants to ensure underworld business stays in the underworld.”

“You’re cleaning up Tatooine?”

“Trying to.”

“How’s that worked out?”

“Well, we killed the Mos Espa mayor a couple months ago. Drove out some Pykes. Stopped a spice trade line. Established land agreements between some Tusken clans. And given the people a fair water tax and management system that is beyond me. We’re getting there.”

“I hate to say I’m impressed.”

“Then say you agree to speak to the Marshal. If he’s as decent of a man as you say, there should be no problem.” Din lends no response, crossing his arms. Fennec leans on her elbows. “What?”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

A smile plays on Fennec’s lips, disguised by another drink. “Here I am thinking you aren’t smart,” she says. “If you agree, you would have to be accompanied by a member of the Fett Gotra.”

Foolishly, Din asks, “Who?” An answer given by Fennec’s wryly smile. “No,” he says. “No, forget it.”

“I wouldn’t have come to you if I had another choice.”

“Do you have any idea what you’re asking me?”

“Yes. I’m asking you to do a job. Take it as just that.”

He grasps for a new excuse. “She’d never agree.”

“She already has,” Fennec says. “Granted I haven’t asked her yet, but she’s on board.” He gives a look. “If you agree, she will be. I know you want to so let’s skip the back and forth.” He swallows thickness, leg bouncing. Fennec stands, shoving the flask in the calf of her boot. She takes her helmet, unnoticed by Din on the ground, pulling it on. “You’re saying yes,” she tells him. “Come to the palace before nightfall. We’ll officialize details and get you briefed.”

‘Fennec…” His words are lost when she looks, though meaning still perpetrates.

“She’s fine. But don’t make me regret this.”

---

Contrary to popular belief, the Mandalorian known as Din Djarin is also fine. He isn’t doing particularly great, but he is fine. He’s okay, and that’s enough. Frankly, okay is the best he’s ever been in these past months. Okay is what lets him sleep at night for a full six hours and okay is what reminds him to eat. Okay means he doesn’t need a sip of alcohol at least twice a day, and maybe he should watch his temper.

So yes, he’s okay.

Frankly he thinks okay is the best he’ll be.

At least for a long while.

Nevarro isn’t shitty anymore, he’s as surprised as anyone else. Din isn’t exactly sure how the money came in or from where, but Karga—now deeming himself High Magistrate—saw to Nevarro’s settlement as a trade anchor and hyper lane port of the Hydian Way. The schools were proper, roads paved, water clean. The town bustles, new homes and land being established every day.

Din is the only one to still find it all insufferable.

He stays off world as much as possible. He never planned on returning at all until word came through about Cara. Greef said he reached out to someone, who reached out to someone, who reached out to someone, who eventually got to Din.

Neither she, Moff Gideon, or the New Republic vessel arrived to Coruscant for deliverance. Three and half months after what Din has only referred to as The Incident, they were found. Stagnant in space, exterior hull destroyed, bodies… A vigil was held with candlelight and Din left when Karga asked if he wanted to say any words.

He didn’t.

Cara was his friend. Now she is dead.

Gideon was his enemy. Now he is dead.

That’s all there is.

Din thought himself changed, arguably for the better. Emotion became too difficult to ignore, compassion bit at his ankles, all he wanted to do was give. Now caring is the least of his worries. Nothing matters. In an objective sense, nothing matters. Din is determined to go about his every day knowing this. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about the Empire, the New Republic, the Jedi, or whateverelse there is. He doesn’t care about Nevarro, or Coruscant, or Mandalore. He doesn’t care about his lost ship, he doesn’t care about the stupid sword stuck to his hip. The only thing he can be bothered to give a damn about is the Child.

Din does his best for Grogu. He gets up everyday, he works, he travels, he lives for Grogu. No one else.

He does an okay job at this too.

The parenting thing is… a learning process on his own. The Child, what with his immense powers and inability of speech, makes for an interesting dynamic. Din still isn’t a talker, less now, but he read an article about the importance of enrichment so he tries. He likes to think Grogu appreciates the effort.

They make the best of their nomad life. The kid learns to behave on public transit, Din learns the quickest way to check his weaponry to not hold up a line. Grogu stops fussing when it’s nap time, Din uses the opportunity to have time alone. Grogu uses his magic to eat a frog for lunch, Din builds a fire to camp for the night.

They’re content.

They’re okay.

Sometimes, and only sometimes in the rarest moments of bliss, Din can pretend everything is good and believe it. When he has enough credits to rent a ship for particularly long or dangerous excursion, he can close himself inside the bedchamber and do nothing. He can take off his helmet without paranoia, he can escape to a galaxy where the Razor Crest still exists. Where he doesn’t have a Darksaber or have to worry about an Empire. Where he doesn’t know of the existence of Jedi, or Inquisitors or—

He can pretend nothing changed. He is still who he was at the beginning of the cycle. He’s made no promises, no oaths, he’s not tied to anything or anyone. He’s totally and utterly free.

Din likes the dark. He doesn’t like much at all these days, but he likes the peace of nonexistence. He likes being able to forget, to live without a dragging burden or guilt or shame. He likes not being able to see two inches in front of his face. He likes being able to feel his face. He likes sleeping with his head on a pillow. He likes waking up without a direct stare of himself from the reflection of his helmet. He likes forgetting the helmet exists.

He likes forgetting that he likes forgetting the helmet exists.

The idea complicates things, so he forgets that too.

He is still a Mandalorian. That’s what he tells himself anyways. The helmet is… a technicality, and he convinces himself he never broke Creed to begin with. The Child saw him yes, but Din had also seen the face of his caretaker as a child. Neither of them burst into flames then, they won’t now. Boba Fett is also a Mandalorian whether he admits to such or not. He is born Mandalorian or… created. That alone gives greater credibility than Din has to the people.

He supposes the exposure to Migs Mayfeld was unwarranted. Although, according to New Republic record, Mayfeld is dead. There’s no reason he can’t have died in Din’s recollection either.

All who’s left is…

Din does a remarkable job of moving on. Truth be told, he never thinks of Lumina once. He forgets all about her, every little aspect. The way he should have after the first time. He doesn’t spend nights caught on what ifs or maybes or would’ve could’ve should’ves. He just, forgets. He’s far happier this way, he is. Life is less dramatic, uneventful overall and… a little boring. He blames the unfamiliarity of calm on peace, a stranger to his life for so long.

He isn’t complaining, all it is is a learning curve.

He hadn’t begun to feel anything close to normal until the third month. The first caught him hollow, irritable, angry. He slept and drank and slept and wandered and got into one too many needless fights.

In the second the headaches stopped. He wasn’t angry, he was tired. He felt guilt about everything, about nothing. But all the nothings he shouldn’t feel guilty about and all the everythings he should. He lived in a hole.

On the dawn of the third he decided to live again.

And living is hard.

Living is the most dreadful part of his day.

But it gets easier, somehow.

Easier when he’s occupied, when he’s with the kid, easier as he stops thinking about her.

Forgetting isn’t easy, until it is.

Though, he isn’t sure he likes it.

Within the Sanctuary on Tatooine, the lights of the fresher refuse to work. But every now and then one will flicker and reflect off a piece of armor.

He thinks it is symbolic after all.

---

Peli Motto’s 3-5 hangar is virtually unchanged. A few spare parts have disappeared, a few more having spawned. A small ship of some client taken where the Razor Crest should be. Pit droids scurry like rats, astromechs follow along with aimless direction. Din prefers the sight in the day, illusions remain uncommon.

He’s selfish to expect what he does and too proud to admit it. Everything has been a cyclical repetition so far, how dare it stop now after so much has happened.

He should be greeted with what he expects. It should all play out exactly the same. It has happened once it should happen again.

It does not.

For a moment, Din considers the possibility that he has finally learned.

But moments pass and he is the same.

Maybe he will always be.

--

“Thank you,” Peli says, leaned against some wall. For the past five hours they’ve worked in relative silence on what Din would classify as a piece of junk. A halfway skeleton of some starfighter from Naboo.

Of course it’s from Naboo.

Din peeks over the defunct astromech port, wrench in hand. “What?”

“Thank you,” she repeats. “She wanted to tell you that.”

“Who?”

“Do you remember that girl that was here way back? The one you kept asking about?”

Yes.

“Not really.”

“She lives here now.” Grogu is the one to react, his play built of nuts and bolts toppling. “Not here, but Mos Espa.”

“Can you hand over a circulator? Uh… three inch circumference.”

“You know, I like her. Comes in to help every now and then, works hard, doesn’t take payment. Used to ask about you.”

“That’s… kind of her. I think the parts are over there if you could just—”

“Lumina Fett. That’s her name. Remember that refugee story? No family, no nothing? Turns out she found em. Her old man came back here and took over Jabba’s place, runs the joint now. Guy with your reputation I’m sure could just… walk right in. Introduce yourself.”

“Why would I do that?”

Peli snorts. “Because you’re as obvious as a rancor. You need an excuse to see her.” She holds out a set of shiny shock absorbers. “And I need this delivered to the palace, they’re for her. Two porgs one stone. C’mon, take it.”

Reluctantly, he does.

“I’m always right,” Peli says, smug.

“What are you talking about?”

“Her. I told you you’d like her, didn’t I?” She bumps his side. “And you do. I can tell. If you didn’t you wouldn’t keep lookin at my door like you’re expecting someone to walk through.”

If only the sand could swallow him whole.

“It’s okay, she likes you too.”

---

Boba Fett is not a man of faith, on the contrary he is far from it. He submits to no man, no god. He has not once fallen to his knees in prayer and has never cursed a deity or power greater than he. The matter is all trivial. Faith did not spare his father and there is no god to thank for his test tube creation. Kaminoans deserve no such honor.

He is without.

Life is simpler this way.

There is no fate, no prophecy, no one way life is meant to be. Life only is. Destiny is but an excuse to alleviate misery. All that happens is of natural effect, not a greater plan. No ineffable strategy.

The Force exists, sure. Boba is in no position to deny the fact. What he is in position to deny however, is its power. It’s ironclad grip on the galaxy, on the living. Power lays in the hands of the creations not the creator.

Every problem has a solution. A perfectly logical, reasonable, and achievable solution. All that is required is patience.

A patience running rather thin.

--

“My methods are unorthodox but proven in many studies of my people.” A Rodian speaks to him the floor of his throne room within Jabba’s defunct palace. Changes made in the past months have been both minimal and monumental. 

“How unorthodox are we talking?” Fennec asks. She sits on the arm of his seat, wiping the tip of her rifle, a performative action.

“There is a creature I possess which I have named Cxhenc, after the philosopher. It is not unlike a leech. You see, the Cxhenc will attach itself to the base of the patient’s skull and in doing so release a chemical—”

“I’ve heard enough,” Boba says. “You may go.”

“Buzz kill,” Fennec mutters at his exit.

“You’re serious? Absolutely not.”

“Don’t you want to know what it does? Could be useful in other cases.”

He thinks it over, she does have a point. She usually does. “We’ll call him,” he decides. “Who’s next?”

“Doctor Shuez Bhilba,” the 8D8 droid introduces, arm out. From the palace steps walks a human female. “Doctor Bhilba holds many degrees from the esteemed Academy of Medicine located in Coruscant. Including human neurological operations and advanced psychologics.”

“Coruscant?” Boba whispers.

“You said to cast a wider net,” Fennec responds.

“Cast wide, not tell the whole galaxy.”

“She knows as much as the rest. Daimyo Fett of Tatooine requires a royal physician. It can’t get worse than a parasitic lobotomy.”

Doctor Bhilba bows, reaching the pair. She wears glasses which slide down the bridge of her nose and a lab coat with a foreign emblem. “Lord Fett,” she says. “It is an honor to meet you. I’ve heard many stories since your come to power.”

“Flattery will get you no where with his lordship,” Fennec scoffs. “Whores are for confidence, jesters for stories. Not doctors.”

“My apologies, I mean no offense. I understand your hesitancy what with my tutelage, however I want to assure I hold no connection to the New Republic or any form of galactic government. My application comes in no way to betray, I promise you. I believe my skills will be of tremendous use.”

“How do you mean?” Boba asks.

“You are Boba Fett,” Bhilba says. “You are a clone, a man who has survived the unlivable, beaten the unbeatable. A man who despite all odds and in mere months establishes himself as a force matched only by Jabba the Hutt with one drastic difference. I’ve seen articles, met with locals. You are in the midst of accomplishing something truly good, truly great. Forgive my saying, but I am shocked you haven’t sought professional psychological aide sooner. It shows your resilience and your keen awareness to be unafraid to ask for help.”

“Hold on,” Fennec says. “Lord Fett does not seek psychological aide. He seeks a physician.”

“Which I too am qualified for, however it does not take even a single doctorate to deduce the true reason for your request of applicants. Great physicians can be found on Tatooine or any world. The reason there has been no hire is a lack of trust in psychology. Bacta heals the body not the brain.”

“She’s good,” Boba mumbles.

“Too good,” Fennec responds. “Doctor Bhilba, do you question Lord Fett’s sanity?”

“Certainly not,” she says. “In fact… I would need clearer consultation, but I classify Lord Fett as being entirely sane. Stressed, anxious slightly, and exhausted, but sane. Am I wrong then in thinking there is perhaps another in need?”

“She is good,” Fennec admits. “Your observations impress the Daimyo.”

“Thank you.”

“This is not to say the imaginary patient does indeed exist.”

“Of course not.”

“Should you however come across a patient with… deep psychological distress, how would you treat them?”

“Deep psychological distress?” She repeats. 

“Anxiety, attacks of panic, insomnia, general detachment, paranoia, hallucinations, and being a risk of harm to oneself and others.”

“My,” Doctor Bhilba says. ”And, there is no way for me to meet this… Imaginary patient?”

“Of course not,” Fennec says. “They do not exist.”

“Of course. In any case I would treat them as I would any client. The first few sessions would be spent in simply building trust. Then after assessment I would start medications and general therapy. My goal would be to ensure the patient feel safe above all else. Psychosis can be terrifying, but I’ve treated it many times. There may not always be a cure, but there is always a better.”

“I like you,” Boba says. “I do not like many people.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Should we take you on as the royal physician you will need to relocate permanently,” Fennec says. “And you will be bound to never speak of your work to any being under any circumstance.”

“I understand. I established a very successful practice on my homeworld of Naboo. Leaving would be difficult, but I have an excellent team whom I know will continue to do great things.”

“Naboo?” Boba repeats.

“Yes. I’ve been aide to our queens, common folk, and members of aristocracy since completing my studies.”

“No.”

Doctor Bhilba blinks. “I beg your pardon?”

“I said no. You’re dismissed.”

“Sir I—I’m sorry I don’t understand.”

“Lord Fett has dismissed you,” Fennec says. “Quite kindly might I add. I will not be. Leave.”

Boba slumps against the throne when the doctor is out of sight. “From now on we stick to calls in the Outer Rim.”

“Perhaps we should take a break, just for a short while. She said so herself, the call has been out for some time now, it’s suspicious you’ve found no one.”

“I don’t care if they think I’m mad.”

“You should. Mad kings rarely go down in splendor. Should the people get even an inkling that you are unfit to rule they will revolt. We’ll stop now and revisit later.”

“After last night I don’t know how much longer we can wait.” He sighs. “Gods help us.”

“Lord Fett,” the 8D8 speaks. “There is still one visitor awaiting your audience. Shall I dismiss them?”

“Yes,” he answers. “I’ll see no one else today. Preparations must be made for Freetown.”

“What are the chances I get an exception?” Down the winding steps comes the Mandalorian Din Djarin, beskar shining as bright as a knights. His head bows, fist to his chest.

To note Boba Fett as being a particular fan of Din Djarin may be a gross exaggeration. He does not like the Mandalorian. He does not like his unpainted beskar and how it shifts in the light. Boba does not like his stubbornness or arrogance. For the past few months Boba has been bound to specifically not like Din. It is his duty as caretaker to not like Din, and he does not.

He does however, like the Mandalorian’s dedication. His oath for a Creed Boba could not care for. His gall in ever showing his beskar helm to any of them again. And how absolutely pitiful he looks right now.

That Boba enjoys very much.

“You’re here,” Fennec says. Boba knows her too well now, and so he knows her attempt to mask surprise.

“Not without reason.”

“And…” Boba says. “What would that be?”

The Mandalorian presents open palms, a shock absorber in each. “I have a delivery.”

---

The palace hangar is a large and desolate thing. Fuel canisters litter half empty and half full, the flooring untiled, windows unheard of. What lighting the room has is limited and dimmed, more so casted in shadow than life.

Really it looks more like Peli’s than Peli’s ever did.

A rather unfortunate guarantee in this exact situation.

“You’re just in time. Thanks for coming so last minute.” Comes as he enters, the owner bent over a speeder bike. A girl crouches at the bike, running her hands over the exposed power cell.  She whispers, “Let’s see…” The speeder struggles, wheezing for life. It rumbles on the ground, repulser lifters desperately wanting to ignite. Instead, the light above Din flashes.

“Fuck.” She stands, back muscles stretching under a black shirt. “Whatever. Listen, I did everything you said and I’m telling you the shock absorbers the speeder came with can’t handle the new engine. If I don’t have that double padded K2-R, the second I hit top speeds I’m gonna fly right off this thing.”

For the second time in his life, and the first with discontent, the Mandalorian’s heart flutters.

What. The. Fuck.

“I’m not Peli,” he says, an echo of the past.

The other turns quick, nearly breaking their neck in the process. Suspicions confirmed. They’re more than a girl. They’re the reason Din’s brain malfunctions and now the both of them are staring like they’d just seen a ghost.

Ironic.

She has speeder oil smeared across her cheek, her clothing is worn and stained. Her hair loosely tied back, but too short to stay. Curled bangs escape to the front. Her eyes are wide and bright grey under the light. They sit with overwhelming grief and unending exhaustion.

If Din couldn’t run away then, he sure as hell can’t now. His dignity is already lost, and he’s proven to be too weak to escape fate.

That’s the problem with only being okay. Din lies to himself more than anyone else. Because while he can say he’s moved on, life catches up and shows him a mirror. It can bring back every memory he locks away, every feeling he convinced himself didn’t matter and it will only mock his reaction.

Because while Din has forgotten everything and never thinks of Lumina once, he’s also builds exceptions. He’s perfectly fine and okay without her until it rains. He’s okay until he walks through trees. He doesn’t care until he reaches for his knife. Until he gets in bed with all his anger and frustrations. He’s doesn’t think of Lumina once unless he sees a flower. He forgets she exists until he looks at the moon and watches the sunrise and is faced with stars.

Those stupid fucking stars.

Din would give anything to never see one again.

And now there’s one right in front of him. Her. Lumina. His flower. His sun. His star. Looking… utterly terrified.

No one moves. No one speaks.

So Din does the only reasonable thing he can think of. 

He says, “Hi.”

And Lumina responds with the only reasonable thing she can think of. 

“Hi.”

And so they both find that neither of them are very reasonable people and the mutual action does very little to suppress any panic at all. They continue to stare thinking one may simply disappear or the galaxy will self correct and vanish the other itself.

The galaxy does no such thing.

By this point they should have each learned that the galaxy is as kind as a god. That is to say, not at all.

As it turns out Din is still moronic when it comes to planning. The space between their words are longer than he would prefer but he can’t necessarily blame her.

Not this time.

The light above flickers, and neither flinches.

“What brings you?” She asks.

Nothing. Everything.

“I was in the area… Thought I’d pop by. You’re a mechanic now?” His feet feel heavier than normal, trudging. He places the absorbers on the nearest table, their fall sounding like wrenches.

“I wouldn’t go that far. I help Peli in Mos Eisley where I can, take more off days than I do on.” She slides off thick padded gloves. A bandage wraps her right wrist, ending at her knuckles. Her hands shove deep into the pockets of her pants. “Gives me something to do.”

“Do you like it?”

She shrugs. “Beats calculating water tax.” Her weight shifts, sinking an inch deeper. “Where’s your kid?”

“With Peli,” Din answers, ignoring the pang of it all. “I didn’t know if it’d be good for him. Coming down here. He’s good, really good actually, but—”

“I get it. I wouldn’t bring him either.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You did. It’s okay.” A fluttered chime sounds, echoing against the walls. “That’s dinner.” Lumina wipes oil off her face with a red rag, staining the fabric. “Will you be there?”

“Yes,” he says, sudden and eager. “Dinner.”

“Yes,” she repeats laughing, though the smile is never full. “Dinner.”

---

Din can’t help but wonder whether the circumstances of dinner is a direct dictation of Boba, or rather a natural fall of events. The dining hall is large and undecorated, a long table in the center. One chair sits at the head, another to its right, two to its left. Servant droids deliver the banquet from the kitchen, but Lumina—now cleaned from earlier—sets the table. Glassware, plates, spoons, forks. Fennec places the knives when she enters. Passing Lumina she says, “I’ll take care of clean up tonight,” and doesn’t accept argument.

Boba enters last, helmet removed and held against his hip. His skin is cleared from last they’ve seen of another. Scaring relatively gone, tan returned. He pays Din no mind, which isn’t entirely unexpected. Instead, the newest Daimyo hugs Lumina by the side and kisses the top of her head. Their hushed conversation is one Din can’t make out. The bulk comes from Boba, Lumina nodding along. She speaks thrice, the second after she looks at Din, the third a simple confirmation of whatever it is Boba says.

Lumina sits first then Boba. Him at the head, her the single chair. Fennec takes the left closest to. Din is stiff taking place next to her, the empty seat given with no setting.

Food is passed between the three, Lumina taking the smallest of servings, Boba the largest, Fennec in the middle. The scene feels too intimate for Din’s intrusion. Too nuclear.

“Adi,” Boba says. “Have you finished your bike?”

“Not yet.” She cuts the same piece of meat over and over, pushing it around. “I will tonight.”

“Don’t stay up too late.”

“I know.”

“You go to Freetown in the morning.”

“I know, Boba. I’ll be there. Are the documents ready?”

“The majordomo approved them this afternoon,” Fennec says. “He compliments your skill.”

“Does he still oppose my proposal for an election?”

“Yes.”

“Then I don’t care for his compliments.” Fennec snorts, Boba shoots her a behave look only a father could master. “I don’t,” she reiterates. “The people need representation and fair council.”

“I agree,” Boba says.

��A new mayor must be selected by those they will run, not us.”

“Adi, I said I agree.”

She slows. “You do?”

“Yes. I do. Fennec has read through your proposal, it’s excellent. The initiative will take time to implement, but your strategy is good.”

Fennec nods, mid bite of a fried porg. “Good job,” she says, mouth full.

Lumina says, “Thank you.”

The table falls into silence again, forks and knives scraping plates, wine pouring into Boba and Fennec’s glasses.

Boba clears his throat. “Din Djarin,” he says. No one misses Lumina’s fork dropping, a loud clink clink clink. “Tell me, how goes the life of the Mand’alor? Fulfilling I hope.”

“I am not Mand’alor,” Din says in his chest. “And I do not plan on becoming.”

“Yet you still carry the Darksaber? Seems counter productive.” He pushes his plate aside, dabbing the corner of his mouth. “Have you given the position any thought before dismissal?”

Din does not answer. He thinks it a growing habit, comfort in the unknown. 

“Ad,” Boba says. “I should like the Mand’alor accompany you to Freetown in the morning. It will serve as his first taste of diplomacy. What say you to that?”

She sounds like a child, a quiet, “What?”

“I think it an excellent idea,” Boba continues. “Don’t you agree Mand’alor? Your first taste of politics coming from an expert?”

He wishes he could hesitate. “Yes,” he breathes. “Yes, I would like that.”

“Ad?” She gives no answer, he tries again. “Lumina?”

Her body startles first, then her mind. She sits up impossibly straight. “Yes, yes of course,” she says at once. In her momentary silence, she looks in a daze.

“Lumina,” Fennec says.

She jumps again, standing her chair knocks over. Watching the floor her hands turn to fists. She mumbles, “Excuse me,” and hurries out.

Din’s motion to stand is waved down by Fennec.

“I do hate when you’re right,” Boba says, sipping wine.

“I always am,” she says.

“You may take a plate to the kitchen to eat in privacy,” Boba says to him. “I will have a room prepared for you when you are finished.”

“You said she was fine,” Din tells Fennec.

“You said you were done with her,” she counters. “I guess we both lied.”

“I should talk to her.”

“You will not,” she snorts. “You’ll go to the kitchen and eat your food like a good little Mandalorian. Then you’ll go to bed, get up, go to Freetown, get that treaty signed, and leave. I will talk to Lumina, and you,” she says to Boba, “will reconsider Doctor Bhilba.”

“The answer is no.”

Fennec stands, grabbing a leg of nuna. She takes a bite, juices drip. “Then find your sister.”

---

Lumina resides in the second largest room of the palace. Her walls are circular, the floor a white marble tile. Her door is atypical, a thick curtain on a steel rod, a carried theme to both her closet and fresher. Her bed is larger than necessary and softer than she knows what to do with. The sheets are perfectly steamed to conform to the shape. She thinks it was meant to be Boba’s but bacta does little to heal bones sore with age.

She can’t open her windows, though there are plenty. A desk is littered with paperwork and ink, a small computer terminal, books on books, open, torn, written in. A potted plant, yet to bloom. A map of the known galaxy, pinned to the wall.

She sits in the center of her room on the floor, legs crossed, one bedside lamp dimmed. She stretches out, breathes, and retracts. The motion repeats several times over until the pain of the pull subsides.

Three knocks come at the limestone outside, one right after another. She’s slow to rise, slower to approach. The curtain retreats to the image of the Mandalorian, tall and not so proud.

He says, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep.” Groggy, like he’d just woken up.

She moves aside, an open invitation to which he accepts.

He ends standing where she sat, turning. “It’s nice.” Pointing to a seven-stringed hallikset in the corner. “I didn’t know you played.”

“I didn’t. Boba gave it to me. He says it’s important I have hobbies. I get too caught in my work here, it worries him.” Unsure how to move, Din begins to pace. Looking anywhere feels like an invasion of privacy. “Listen,” Lumina says, sensing the unease. “I want to apologize for earlier. I got overwhelmed, I didn’t mean to cause a scene. Fennec talked it over with me, you coming along… and I agree, I—it would be very beneficial for you to come. I can—” she stops short, a deep exhale passing her lips.

Stepping forward is a guttural response from him.

So is her step back.

Lumina takes the moment to recompose, blinking away the oncoming panic. “You’re welcomed to come along if you wish,” she says. A true diplomat in ways, she passes Din in favor of her desk. “I thought it best if you read over the treaty yourself and then posed questions afterwards rather than my explaining it to you. I write better than I speak.” Instead of handing the datapad to Din directly, she places the tablet on the trunk at the edge of her bed between them. “I’ve met with Marshal Vanth twice before, he is kind, mostly agreeable. With luck the deal will be simple. Now, I know taxes and tributes will be an issue but I’ve commodified some numbers and with the elimination of spice our annual capital growth is already going to shrink horribly and we need to make up losses… What?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Din asks. “You’re standing here talking about economics like any of this is normal and all I can think about is why didn’t you tell me? I deserve an answer.”

She whispers, “I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“I said I—”

“I know what you said, I’m asking why.  What did I do to make you think you couldn’t tell me? That I would see you any less? I already knew so much about you, or I thought I did. I knew how you grew up, I knew your connections, I knew you could get sick and act differently. I knew you weren’t normal. I knew that and I never held any of it against you. Everyone else called you something, everyone else hated you. I didn’t. So why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I couldn’t,” she replies. “I tried. I tried so many times. Do you think I wanted to betray you? Do you think it was easy for me to lie to you every single day? It was hell. You were so wonderful, even when you were a dick you were a million times better than me. I know that you’re hurt, you have every right to be. But all this anger you’ve had for me for what… four, five months?” She points to herself, jabbing her own chest. “I have had to sit with every day of my life. You always give me shit for leaving but you left! You left! You get to leave, you get to run away and forget. I don’t. So I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I used to kill Jedi when I was teenager. Okay? I’m sorry I didn’t want to ruin the one good thing I’ve had in years.”

“You wouldn’t have ruined anything—”

She laughs, palms pressed to her eyes groaning. “Gods just shut up! Are you kidding? Grogu scared the shit out of you and he’s a baby. You called him dangerous. You wanted to send him away because you couldn’t handle it. Where does that leave me?”

He hesitates. “We would’ve figured it out.”

“Din, I didn’t think you were actually here until Boba said something. Do you know how many doctors they’ve brought for me? There is no figuring this out, this is just who I am.”

Din is too quiet for either of their comforts. He takes the tablet from the bunk, gives it a once over glance. “You wrote this?”

“I did.”

“I think you need to give yourself more credit. Cause you’re a lot more than you think.”

“Maybe.”

“You used to freak out when you thought someone wasn’t real,” Din says. “Why talk to me?”

She shrugs.

“I missed you. A lot has happened. I wanted someone to talk to. Take your pick. Why are you here in the middle of the night?”

He repeats. “Take your pick.”

---

Tatooine is significantly colder at night, moons high in the sky. Lumina and Din exit the palace with relative ease, Gamorrean guards asleep at their post. She wears a cape with a large hood drooped at her neck. They keep a simple distance, sabers on their hips swinging in tandem.

“You once asked if I knew of the Force,” she says. “Do you remember this?”

He does, so he nods. “I do.”

“What do you know of it?”

Within the helmet he frowns. “It’s…” He searches for the words because in truth he does not know. Not really. The definition given to him by Ahsoka feels too textbook and manufactured. Like it were to be given to hundreds so that no further questions may be asked. “It’s… energy, of life.”

She nods once. “Do you know what that means?”

He does not, and admits such. “No.”

“For as long as sentients have existed,” Lumina says. “The Force has been studied. No one knows what it is, not really.  It’s everything, and nothing, and it’s everywhere, but also no where. All at once, all of the time.”

“Right,” Din responds curt. “How does that work?”

“Think of it like the air. You can’t see it, but you know its there and sometimes you can feel it. The Force is like that, except it never ceases to exist. Not in space or water or dirt… really it is all of that, except it’s never tangible either. It just is. Does that make sense?”

“I guess.”

“There are two sides, like a moon. Light and dark. The dark is cold, lonely. It’s an infection that feels like it can never be cured. It’s being trapped in a frozen lake wishing for anything to pull yourself out with but nothing is ever within reach. So you get angry, and you hurt. My father—” she says with far greater ease than ever before. “He held so much hurt for all I knew him. He passed his hurt to me, encouraged I grow my own. I am in the dark, I always have been. A Jedi would call me a Sith. I’m not given a choice to disagree.”

“And the light?”

“I wouldn’t know, but I imagine it’s beautiful.”

“So… Moonlight is good?”

“Yeah,” Lumina whispers. “Moonlight is good.”

--

Lumina takes her lightsaber in her hands, twisting at parts. “This weapon belonged to Ahsoka Tano when she was young. My father trained her before he got sick, and gifted it to me when I came of age. There is a crystal inside which…” She struggles, pulling said crystal out. It’s presented to Din between her thumb and forefinger, a dull red. “Gives the sword its power. We call it kyber. The crystal connects to the Force, we connect to the crystal.”

“Why red?”

“They were blue once, when I got it. My people we… conduct a process called bleeding. This crystal is bled.”

“Ahsoka’s were white.”

“They were,” Lumina confirms. “I don’t know why. I’ve never seen anything like it. Or yours.”

“That’s reassuring,” Din mutters.

“Could mean nothing. The Darksaber is older than the Republic, maybe there were different methods of building back then. Have you tried using it at all?”

“Very little, nothing to count. It’s heavy.”

Lumina reassembles her saber. “Let me see?”

Vertical, the Darksaber ignites, black blade shining. His elbows drop.

“Are you trying to hold it up?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t. You focus on its weight, it will only be heavier. Close your eyes… are they closed?”

Truthfully he answers, “Yes.”

“I want you to breathe, slowly like you’re learning. Pay attention to everything else. The temperature, the smell, the sand, the sky. Relax into all of it.”

Din can’t all together describe the sensation. Not with any hint of accuracy anyways. He worries he does it wrong at first, focused too closely on the ‘other’. His feet, his hands, the weight of his helmet. Her. Gradually the oddness settles and all becomes natural. A wind or a flame, a particle of sand in a greater world. Light.

“What do you call this?”

“Meditation. Technically a Jedi practice but… well I find it helpful. How’s the sword feel?”

“Better.”

Sounds crackle again, he sees a red hue flashing from behind his eyelids and visor. Pressure comes from the sword. He pushes back.

“I want you to remember that when you use this sword, you are using energy. It’s your job to direct with intention. Understand that the currents are a part of you. The kyber wants to connect and you should want to allow it. Think of it as liberation, not a hinderance.”

The pressure vanishes, as does the weight.

--

Din asks about her wrist, Lumina too caught up in rubbing the wrapped bone to pursue conversation. She blames the sprain on an accidental fall the day prior.

He isn’t sure why he still lets her lie, but it becomes a comfort to them both.

--

“You’ll like Krrasantan,” Lumina tells him. “Even for a Wookie he’s huge. Scary too, but secretly sensitive. When he found out I used to live with Trandoshans he wouldn’t speak to me for a week.”

“Have you heard from any of them since?” Din asks. “The Trandoshans.”

“I’m not allowed to use the comms,” she says, head shaking. “Fennec monitors my calls. I’m can only call her or Boba when they’re not home. She says it’s a security issue, but I know better. I do miss Sully though… Don’t tell BK. His dad and Boba were friends. Went bounty hunting together a lot actually. ”

“Speaking of, I hear you’re officially a Fett.”

Her head ducks. “Who told?”

“Peli.”

“Of course.”

“So it’s true?”

“It is.” She kicks sand, watching the clump blow into the air. “Fennec introduced me as it once before to the old mayor. I had a meeting with him to discuss the spice trade, he said he’d only talk to Fett. Fennec told him I was his kid and since then it stuck. People talk a lot around here, word spreads. I still can’t tell how Boba feels about it.”

“I’d think he’d be welcoming to you claiming his name.”

“Oh he is. You should see how he lights up when he hears Lady Fett get thrown around the palace.” A smile grows on her the same, the first real one he’s seen since arriving. “I think it suits me well. Lumina Fett.  It’s my favorite name I’ve ever had.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

“He never claims me as his.” Her brightness dims, pace slowing. “He explicitly says he isn’t my father whenever someone says otherwise. Doesn’t explain why either. Fennec says it makes him feel guilty, whatever that means.”

“So… you guys are what exactly?”

“Family,” Lumina says. “We’re family.”

--

“I’m sorry about your friend,” Lumina says, their walk to the palace gate cautious in step. “Marshal Dune.”

“How’d you hear?”

To Din’s knowledge word had only been sent to Nevarro by way of Adelphi Ranger, Capitan Carson Teva. The coming and going of Moff Gideon still unknown to the Core, a ‘nonissue’ so to say.

“Boba has access to New Republic channels, not that they know. Remnants from Jabba’s rule, the tech is old but it works. I like to listen when he’s not looking. It’s harder to stay in the loop now that I don’t live in the Core. Boba offered to send something to her family when I told him but…”

“Alderaanian.” 

“Yeah. Alderaanaian. I really am sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

They come down the steps into the throne room, empty, unlit. “It is, actually,” Lumina says. “It’s entirely my fault. I failed in killing Ghost, in turn she killed Gideon. She killed your friend. That is my fault, and I am sorry.”

“You’re certain it was her?”

“Who else would have done it? If Gideon were to successfully arrive to the New Republic, who knows what he would have said. What they would have made him say. I’ve already ruined the secret of Inquisitors. The New Republic is a beast in disguise. They wouldn’t rest until he said more. He failed his duty to the Empire, proving himself no longer useful. Killing him was a security measure. I would’ve authorized it myself honestly.” 

Din continues to follow Lumina back to her room. He realizes he shouldn’t. Their farewells and goodnights should end now. The night has been long, the morning will be longer.

He does not think himself a man of sound mind.

Lumina pulls back her curtain, leaning in the entryway. “She loved him,” she says, suddenly. “She loved Gideon and she killed him. We grew up together, she spent years looking for me and the moment I turn out to be different, I’m no one.” She takes a breath, leaning her head back. “Gideon was the first person to show her any kind of love, empathy, desire. Whatever you want to call it, that is what he provided her. And she wanted him just the same, and now he is dead, she is missing, I am here. I worry I may have underestimated her.”

“You think she’ll come back?”

“Oh I know she will,” Lumina chuckles, soulless. “The question is when. How. That I’m still working out.”

“I would argue it’s not your problem anymore.”

She walks inside, casually imploring a use of the Force to hang her cloak. “I was the first to come back from the dead. I am still the rightful heir, and I’ve yet to abdicate. I should like to dissolve my inheritance before others are reborn as well. When rooms are crowded, navigation becomes trickier. If the downfall of my father’s empire is not my problem, it is no one’s.”

---

Lumina sits at the top of her bed, Din across on the edge of the mattress. With the Force, she closes her curtain door, hooking it’s fabric latch. “They took out my door a couple days ago.” She calls it a ‘safety issue’, and doesn’t elaborate.

She falls onto her back, he looks up. Unnoticed until now, her painted ceiling. A dark galactic blue, hand drawn thin white lines connecting various dots. Nothing is labeled or really makes logical sense. The image isn’t one Din would recognize.

“Finding a hobby meant I had to try everything at least once,” Lumina says.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. Something.”

“Descriptive.”

“Shut up. It’s a map.”

“To?”

“No clue. I would see it in my dreams a lot, visions I guess. Could be nothing.”

It’s too obvious he struggles with the words. “Do your visions… usually mean nothing?”

She snorts. “My visions usually don’t happen. Not on their own anyways. I’m more of a historian than a psychic.” She sits up, preemptive to his declaration of confusion. “Psychics see the future, I see the past. I touch an object, I see it’s history. Some things more vivid than others. Sight, touch, smell, sound, everything. It’s why hotel beds make me uncomfortable. I’m good at controlling it, but some things just set me off.”

“Your gloves…” he says, a sudden realization.

“Like you said, dirt talks to me,” she chuckles. “And everything else.”

“The clones, on Nevarro. They’re what made you sick.”

“The last time something that bad happened was when I grabbed my dad’s lightsaber as a kid. I was out for a week straight. When memories are sourced from the dark side I go into shock. On Nevarro it was the clones, in Arkanis it was the school. I can’t handle it, so I drop.”

“Shit,” Din swears. “Fuck I’m sorry.”

She ignores this. “I can access memory too,” she says, like the notion has only just to come to her. “In sentients. I can go inside anyones mind and do whatever I want to their consciousness. With Doctor Pershing I… I let him relive memories of his mother. I used to do it with Grogu all the time, let him remember his life before.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Not when the other agrees.” He can tell she isn’t totally there, mind wandering. “ It’s totally painless, I’ve been told euphoric.”

“And when they don’t agree?”

“Unbearable. It’s how I would information out of Rebels, Senators. I just—go in. It’s what I did to Gideon…”

“What?”

“It’s what I did to Gideon,” she says again, growing confidence. “I went inside his mind. I took out every memory he had of me. Everything just—I made it all disappear so he couldn’t turn me in. Din, I—I have an idea. And you can say no but… I think I can help you.”

“Help me?” He repeats. 

“I can feel your emotions. I know you’re not totally comfortable right now, with me. I understand. You’d rather not be here, you’d rather not see me. I’ve done… irreparable damage to you, your friends, your kid. You never wanted to see me again and now you’re here because Boba and Fennec made you think that’s what you want, right? What if… What if I—What if I made you forget me?”

“I don’t follow.”

“I can access your memories,” Lumina says. “I can alter your memories. The topic is specific enough, I can go in and make it so you’re totally free from me. You’ll never have to think about me again because I won’t exist. Every single thing, as far back as you want to go, can be gone. Everything. You won’t even remember you showed me your face.”

That gets his attention.

“You’d still remember,” he says.

She rubs her wrist. “That can be remedied.”

“What about everything else? I wouldn’t know any of it?”

“If it didn’t involve me, you would. If it did… you have two options. Total erasure, or your memory just gets spotted. You go to Trask, not Arkanis. You lose your ship, the kid, but I’m not there. I’m not saved. You might feel like you’re forgetting something but you’ll never know what. You can leave all of this behind you. Forever.”

 Before his conscious can command otherwise, the Mandalorian removes his helmet, dropping the beskar onto the marble floor. Were it a simpler material, it would shatter.

In some ways he’d be better off if it did.

Her shock is the same as the first time, if not greater.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” he says. “I need you to look at me when I say this. I am never letting you do anything to control my mind again. Never. Because out of every single thing you’ve done to me, that is the worst. I thought I was going insane. You made me hate you. You made me say a million things I don’t believe, things I still don’t believe.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I thought—”

“No, you didn’t. You didn’t think. You don’t think. If you did you would know better. Why the hell would I be here? Why do you think I’m still here? I know you’re not familiar with free will, but I am capable of making my own choices. This is my choice. You are my choice. You have been for a very long time and you’re the only one who can’t see it.”

“I don’t understand. You said—you said we were done before I did anything to you. You said that. You acted on that. I’ve respected that, I always have. I’m trying to help you and—and you’re mad at me.”

“How can I not be mad?”

“How can you? Every good thing I’ve done has been for you. This is a good thing. This is good. I’m letting you let me go. I need you to let me go so I can let you go. I waited for so long for you to change your mind. All I wanted was for you to change your mind and come back. You didn’t. You stayed away and I never blamed you. I’m never going to have a good life. I’m never going to escape this. You can. You have. I want to. If you let me go, if you say you’re finished, I can be too. I want to let you go. I want to know you’re doing good. I can if I know that I’m not hurting you anymore. So stop telling me I’m wrong. I know what I’m doing, I know what I’m asking.”

“I’m not doing it.”

“Why?”  

“Because it is impossible, Lumina,” Din snaps, whispered. “You would have to erase every memory I’ve ever had. You would have to kill me. There is not a point of this galaxy that I can go to be free of you. I see you everywhere I am. Every dream. Every sun. Every star. I see you. I want you. I have spent months trying to do nothing but forget you and I cannot. You have put a hunger in me that I cannot feed in your absence. I starve without you. I’ve broken my Creed for you. I’ve yet to face my people due to my own fear. You have made my life a hell worse than any sin I could commit on my own. But that is a hell I would walk a million times over if it meant having you for just a moment. You have never insulted me more than to say I would want otherwise when I want you. I have always wanted you.”

Lumina says nothing at first, until she says everything.

“Do you still love me?”

He does not respond, bringing their lips together.

---

“You’re so handsome,” Lumina whispers. She cradles the side of his face, he keeps her steady on his lap. It’s all hands and mouth, attempts at closeness. His armor is off, placed delicately on the ground. Her shirt hrown somewhere unknown, so is his. He unbuttons her pants but they’ve yet to be removed. “I wanted to tell you then. I couldn’t believe it. I always had an idea, hard not to. But… Stars you’re beautiful Din.”

He tells her to shut up, mumbled into her neck and in-between kisses. He buries himself there, nose pressed to her shoulder at the start of her scar.

“You are,” she says. “I was right. The galaxy wouldn’t know what to do with itself if it got to see you like this all the time.”

He bites her. “Quit.” His chest is too tight, too full. He’d be better off if she killed him now, save the embarrassment.

“How do you say that? Gar mesh’la?”

Din shoves his hand down the front of Lumina’s pants, two fingers going directly inside. Her gasp is silenced, his mouth swallowing the sound, his tongue pushing inside. His fingers hook in a practiced way, pumping in and out. 

“I said shut up,” he whispers. “Boba walks in I’m dead.”

“Don’t—Do not talk about Boba right—now.”

There’s pride in Din, knowing she’s just as responsive as she was. Knowing he’s the cause.

He pulls out, the sound making his head spin. Selfishly, he takes time to inspect the mess, a long quiet groan. “Go turn off the lights.”

Her left hand raises above their heads, with a twirl of her wrist the power cuts.

“Gods,” Din mutters. He takes a hold of Lumina’s waist, turning to lay her down. He yanks her pants over the swell of her ass. “This whole fucking time…”

“Lights are new,” she tells him, moving up to assist in the removal. “Can’t control it. Better at turning off. Not good at turning anything on worth shit.”

He grabs her hand, placing it over the warm swell between his legs. He squeezes rough over the fabric saying, “You are.”

She squeaks, “Oh.”

“There she is,” Din whispers. He guides her palm, rubbing slow strokes. “There’s my shy girl.” His other hand unbuttons his pants, shoving them down, pulling himself out. “Used to think it was the other way. Only pretended to be all sweet. ’S the other way isn’t it? You just act scary. Don’t know better.”

“Fuck,” she whispers. “I am scary.”

“Mm yeah…. terrifying.”

“Fuck you.”

He cups her jaw. “I’m trying.” He guides her mouth to his cock, which she accepts graciously. “My pretty girl,” he says, breathless. “Oh my Sarad.”

That gets her, a high whine around Din. Her hand snakes between her legs, rubbing at her clit. Din pulls her off as soon as he notices, which isn’t for some time in his current state.

“No,” he says. “I take care of you. Me.”

She lets him.

Like there was ever an argument not to.

Din lays her down again, mouth following to kiss. He’s never been one to like the taste of himself, but from her mouth it’s all so sweet. His fingers find their way inside again.

“Have you…” he tries to ask, brushing their noses together.

“No,” she answers. “No one. Tried once. Got drunk. Sad. Punched him. Threw up.”

“How far—”

“He kissed me. That’s it. Hated it. Called me a bitch.”

“I’ll kill him.”

“Please,” she moans. Though it could just be so he’d hurry along.

“Hold on baby. Hold on almost.”

“You?” She asks. “Did you?”

“Have I?”

“Yeah.”

“No. Tried.”

“Tried?”

“Went to Canto. Moon. She looked like you, wanted… needed someone like you.”

She pulls away, holding his jaw. “What happened?”

“A lot. Accent was wrong,” he mutters, embarrassed. “Called me Mando. Wasn’t you. She got naked, I got pissed, left.”

“You left her naked?” Lumina asks.

“Yeah.”

“Did you pay?”

Now he moves back. “What?”

“Did you pay her? You know… for her services? She got naked, she deserves to be paid.”

“You’re not funny.”

“I’m very funny.”

“You’re not—” He does laugh though, quiet. “Fuck me.”

“I’m trying,” she mimics. “Hurry up.”

Din kisses her once. “Brat.”

She laughs. “Can’t change everything.”

They don’t take long, after Din enters. She’s sweet as ever, taking without issue. Things slow to a crawl, pressed to the hilt, they become acutely aware of what exactly it is they’re doing.

“Are you okay?” Din asks, whispered. He moves at a snail’s pace, gentle. Focused more on grinding and getting her comfortable than any real fucking.

If this can be called something as simple as fucking.

He thinks not.

“Yeah… Yeah just, thinking.”

“I know. Me too.” Lumina rubs at his stubble, thumb circling the one spot hair never seems to grow. He turns, kissing her palm. “I missed you,” he whispers. “Feels like I shouldn’t.”

“We’re fucked up,” she tells him. “’S why we work.”

Din thrusts after that, slow and cautious movements soon turning fast, needy. He fucks into her like its his dying day. She takes it all and begs for more.

Lumina releases first, without warning. He feels her tightening, her squirms, hears his name pass from her lips.

“Din.”

He comes after, her sound the key to nirvana. His mind fogs, muscles weaken, filling her. Pulling out, he collapses besides her, panting.

She looks over.

“I still love you,” she says, catching her breath. “That part was never a lie.”

Fuck.

---

The air is sweet, comforting when Lumina wakes. She faces the Mandalorian’s bare back, running her fingers over every scar. She could stare at him for the rest of eternity and at last know peace.

The suns have yet to rise, the room is dark. She is the most herself she has felt in ages.

This is halcyon remembered.

Gods she could die now and find no bitterness in what awaits.

Lumina smiles, she can’t believe she remembers how to do that, leaning her head on him. Whatever this is, it is real. He is real. It is good. It is just, it is right.

Daybreak cannot come soon enough. The stars have been fun but she aches for the suns warmth.

Lumina kisses his shoulder, settling into her pillow. She’ll try to sleep again, fluttering nerves aside. The sooner to sleep the sooner she’ll wake again. He will be here, they will go to the Marshal together and he will see how she’s grown. He will see her maturity, her politics, her good will.

He’ll be so impressed he’ll retrieve the Child from Peli Motto. They’ll all be together again.

She runs her hands through her hair, the shortened length still not familiar. She should clean it up before departure, Fennec would do it for her.

Lumina decides she is being silly, those are plans for later, this is now. She should enjoy right now. And she does.

Until that is, Din begins to stir.

She doesn’t say anything, choosing instead to wait for him. She’s been too forward in every regard, the calls will be his for now. She assumes that is the correct choice to make.

So Lumina continues to lay, just as she has been. She does not move, she does not speak. She only watches.

She watches Din’s shoulders move, she watches him sigh. He does not sound particularly pleased, but he never has enjoyed waking in the middle of the night.

He sits up, moving his feet off the bed. Then, he stands. He dresses. Undergarments, pants, top. Piece by piece his armor reattaches, each a subtle click.

He hasn’t looked at her once.

Lumina isn’t smiling, she doesn’t know what to do.

So she does nothing.

Din sits again, the bed caving in. He pulls out his boots from under the bed, shoving them on. He picks up his helmet and rubs at a scuff.

He puts it on.

Hiss. Click.

He leaves.

Lumina sits up, pulling the sheets to cover her exposure. 

Maybe he’s gone to the kitchen, thirsty. He’ll come back, she’s sure of it.

He will.

She’ll wait until he does.

An hour passes, then half the next.

Her room is still dark, her stomach sick. Sunlight may have been too hasty a request. She would settle for the moon and silver hues.

She wants nothing but moonlight.

------

CHAPTER 38: Losing Dogs

------

Taglist: @lexloon​ @jay-bel​ @xsadderdazeforeverx​ @spideysimpossiblegirl​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny​ @hello-th3r3​

[marshallpupfan]

Over the last few months, I've seen many folks discuss their thoughts on the upcoming spinoff "Rubble & Crew". One of the biggest things I encounter, however, is confusion over the sudden appearance of Rubble's family. In truth, it does seem to conflict with what we know about Rubble's backstory. Just what's up with that, anyway?

Even though I don't have any interest in the character or the spinoff, I still came up with a theory of my own. Just for fun, I figured I'd share it. Of course, this is just a guess, so who knows what'll really happen.

First off, for those of you who haven't seen it or don't remember the episode, season one's "Pups Get a Rubble" gave us a glimpse at Rubble's history. Long story short, he was found wandering around while claiming he was "on his own". Later, when the young bulldog tagged along during a mission, he did something that impressed Ryder enough to allow him to stay at the Lookout as a permanent member of the PAW Patrol.

From the TV show's perspective, that was surely a few years ago, as the Rubble we know today is a lot older now. And that's why fans are so confused; just where was Rubble's family all this time? Have they been looking for him? If his family's so big, how'd they lose him in the first place? Did Rubble go wandering off on his own, and for what reason? And am I really going to keep carefully handpicking certain screenshots of Rubble that feature Marshall as well?

As of right now, we don't have the answers. Of course, this hasn't stopped fans from thinking up their own theories. And, I said before, I came up with one of my own, so I figured I'd throw in my two cents, too. Let me know what you think!

This will be another long post, so hit "Keep reading" to see more.

=================

Let's assume Spin Master will at least try to link the spinoff to Rubble's established backstory. Perhaps some big construction job went down somewhere, and Rubble's family was called in to help out. Maybe it was serious, maybe not, who knows. But the important detail here is that it's big, and it required their full attention for many days and many nights.

Rubble, being so young, wasn't allowed to go with them to help out. For that matter, he didn't understand what was going on or why everyone was suddenly gone so much. They kept telling him things like "we've got a big job to do" and "you stay here, we'll be back later", but rarely ever any more than that. Soon, as the days went by, Rubble started to believe nobody cared about him anymore, nor did they want him around, either. Sad and lonely, he finally came to the conclusion that he's now on his own...

...so he ran away from home.

Due to the job keeping everyone so distracted, the family didn't realize the young bulldog was gone until it was too late. They went looking for him, but nobody had any idea where he went or even which direction to start. Months go by, and they still can't find him. They're soon forced to give up their search, fearing he's gone forever... but deep down, they still hope to find him someday.

At this point, Rubble's found by Ryder, Chase and Marshall. He claims he's "on his own" because, from his perspective, that's what Rubble truly believes. As stated before, he joins the PAW Patrol and spends many years in Adventure Bay with his new family, serving as their construction pup and helping out on countless missions and rescues. Over time, he becomes well known among the townsfolk... in fact, you might even say he turned into quite the celebrity! But of course, Adventure Bay is a small place, so the events that go on there don't exactly make headlining news around the world. Anyone who knew Rubble prior to his running away from home would never think to look for him there. It's just one small town in a very big world! It would take him doing something in a big city to get noticed...

Cue Liberty calling the PAW Patrol about Mayor Humdinger's disastrous misdeeds in Adventure City, and the pups rush to go and stop him. As we know, the film ends with a big mission, and the pups are later awarded the key to the city for their heroic deeds. This certainly makes headlines, which is later seen all around the world. Knowing their job is done, the pups proudly head back home to Adventure Bay, with Rubble none the wiser that his appearance there was about to change his life...

Back in... wherever Rubble's family lives, Grandpa Gravel, Auntie Crane, and the rest of the family are all taking a break from their latest job when they decide to watch some television. The news is on, and the report starts talking about these heroic pups that saved the day in Adventure City. Soon, images of the pups flash on screen, and it doesn't take them long before one in-particular catches their eyes.

"Wait... that bulldog...?" "That looks like our little Rubble!" "It couldn't be him... could it?"

The news report has their full attention now, and they listen closely to the names of each pup as they're listed off.

"Chase... Marshall... Rocky... Zuma... RUBBLE?!? IT IS HIM!!! It's our little Rubble!"

"He's grown so much... he even has a full head of stylish hair, too!"

The whole family is overjoyed to learn that Rubble is indeed alive and well! And he seems to have grown into quite the hero, too! Wasting no time, they head straight for Adventure City to greet their once-lost member of their family! Well... they soon discover he actually lives in Adventure Bay, so they quickly change course and head there instead! And once they arrive, Rubble immediately recognizes them and freezes in disbelief. The family disembark their vehicles, and they all embrace Rubble with hugs and tear-filled smiles.

The family is reunited once again.

Rubble soon gives in and starts crying, too... but of course, he admits he believed they didn't care for him anymore. Realizing why he feels that way, Auntie Crane explains why they were all so busy/gone so much when he was younger, and she apologize for leaving him alone as much as they did. Rubble, being older now, finally understands the responsibility they held and apologizes for running away and worrying them so much, too. But now that the family's reunited, they invite him to join their crew so they'll never be separated again!

But... he can't do that. When they ask him why, Rubble says he has another family now. Sure, he's not related to any of the PAW Patrol pups by blood, but he knows they all still love and care for each other as if they were. He can't choose between one family or the other, but as it turns out, he doesn't have to!

"Builder Cove" is an upcoming town that requires numerous construction jobs to get it up and running. Conveniently The best news is, it's neighboring Adventure Bay! Rubble doesn't have to choose between his two families; he can now stay in either location and help out whenever he's needed! Rubble is overjoyed, as he now has the best of both worlds at his paws. What more could a pup ask for in life?

=================

Well, that's my theory! I do think Rubble's appearance in Adventure City is likely the key that connects everything, which might also explain why the spinoff's animation so closely matches what we seen in the theatrical film. Then again, maybe I'm way off, and Spin Master's explanation will be nothing more than "Rubble's family is here now because we said so". Hopefully there's more to it than just that, but... we'll just have to wait and see.

[sofoulandfairaday]

The ultimate How I Met Your Mother Finale rant

I know this has been done before, and I know I'm several years late to the party, but I don't care, so IN THIS ESSAY I WILL tell you about why this finale takes the spot as the second-worst finale in TV show history (because Game of Thrones is still, to this day, unbeatable, and it will probably stay like that forever). 

But first, a little context: I've just finished binge-watching HIMYM. This binge has been going on for three days straight (my final exam of the semester is in a week and I should be studying, so the fact that the last few days were a partial waste of time makes me so mad). Second thing: I already knew how it would end, and yes, kids, it does ruin the show for you. It ruins the show so much it makes your blood boil when you rewatch certain scenes, but I will get to that. 

You might want to make yourself a drink because this is a complete list of all the reasons why HIMYM's finale sucks - I'm warning you, it's gonna be looong.

It completely invalidates the entirety of season 9

This is one of the complaints people most often have with this series, and I have to agree. It would have been so much better if the last two episodes never existed, and they just showed Barney and Robin dancing at the reception after walking out of the chapel, Ted noticing Tracy and then the platform scene. "And that, kids, is the story of how I met your mother". Cut scene. Honestly, I don't get the hate people give to season 9, barring the last 2/3 episodes, especially since season 8 was so much worse (except for a few honourable mentions, like The Robin). S8 was slower, less funny, and less deep, and while the authors took a risk by making s9 happen in the span of a weekend it paid off: they took their time introducing the character of the Mother to the gang and fleshing her out. They make sure to highlight all the little ways in which Ted and Tracy are perfect for each other, and even tie up loose ends, like with the Slapsgiving episode, that was a filler but it wasn't boring to watch (although it may be problematic for different reasons, I'm not Chinese, so I can't say for sure if it's cultural appropriation or just the authors making fun of a particular movie genre). 

Some episodes were arguably great: "Daisy" was amazing, and that whole fight between Marshall and Lily was so realistic and well thought out, "Sunrise" was extremely important for Ted's character development, same goes for Tracy and "How Your Mother Met Me", "Bedtime stories" was impressive, "Rally" was incredibly funny and proved once again what a beautiful character Barney Stinson is, so much so that even Robin never has doubts that he (the guy with the biggest commitment issues on the planet) will bail on her before the wedding, and says to Ted that "he always comes back". Daphne's character is super funny and the right amount of annoying, the shenanigans of the gang are well thought out and all of the characters (not just Barney) complete their arc in this season. The last two/three episodes butcher that.

Marshall and Lily

Marshall and Lily, arguably the world's most solid couple, are the only thing this God-awful finale gets right, especially Marshall, who is my second-favourite character, that finally gets everything he deserves. But what about Lily? They never mention her career after Italy, and I refuse to believe she goes back to being a kindergarten teacher as if her year in Rome meant nothing. I also refuse to think she becomes nothing but a political wife, the equivalent of Zoey, but without saving the world. We know she has three kids, but her postpartum depression is never really talked about much and they definitely had the screentime to delve into it. 

Barney

 Where do I even begin? Barney Stinson is, without a doubt, the best character in this series, the glue of the whole gang. I think the message they were trying to give is that, since his trauma stemmed from the absence of a father figure in his life, he could only truly heal by becoming a father as well. People also say that n°31 had to stay just a number, because who could match up with Barney Stinson? First of all, I call BULSHIT on that last point, because Robin wasn't the only girl Barney could have ended up marrying. I used to think that too, but it's just not true: that is the equivalent of saying that Barney was incapable to truly love a woman and commit to her, even after all the development he got, and that he only got one shot at love in life, and that's it. This goes against the point the showrunners try to make by having Ted and Robin end up together AND by having Tracy get with Ted in the first place: "it's never too late, you always have another chance at love, etc." And, let's face it, Barney and Robin are legendary, but Barney and Nora (hell, even Barney and Quinn!) were pretty good together too. 

Second of all, if they wanted to give Barney a kid, they could have easily done that, before Barney married Robin. Barney's "redemption" starts when he gets with Robin the first time, hell maybe even when we meet James for the first time: Nora, Quinn, finding out who his father is, the episode dedicated to the lies his mum told him/finding James' father, him getting to know his own dad, etc... those are all steps along the way. The s9 episode where Barney accepts the relationship between Loretta and the reverend proves how far he's come. So why not give him a daughter BEFORE he proposes to Robin? Have him cheat on Nora/Quinn with n°31, giving him a relapse, and having him get closer to Robin while struggling to be a dad to Ellie. That would have been great. 

Or, you know, don't give him children. What's the point of burning the Playbook if you're going to have him write the second edition? What's the point of having him do a complete 180 in the last few scenes and acting like having a kid is the only thing that makes him change? What's the point of doing that when the show spends entire episodes berating Marshall and Lily for "changing too much" when they have a kid?

Also, Barney is the "challenge accepted" guy. He loves his wife so much, he spent years wanting her, and then he gives up because there is no WiFi in his hotel. How does that make any sense at all? This is Barney Stinson, the "I will fly out to San Francisco and buy Lily a plane ticket", the "I will steal every girl from my best friend just to save him for Lily", the guy that wrote the Playbook (it takes effort to pull those plays off), the guy that planned for weeks his proposal, the guy that waited years to get back at the man who stole his first girlfriend, the guy that makes every night legendary... are you telling me that that guy becomes the equivalent of a bored housewife instead of living his best life while travelling the world? Come on. They don't even try to make it believable.

Ted

While watching seasons 7 and 8, I felt that Ted was becoming the worst character on the show: he was boring, depressed, basically had no good storylines, the whole thing with Victoria was pointless and inconclusive (and the whole "stop being in love with Robin" was completely out of character for her), but whatever, we could have accepted that because it passed the message that two people could be good together, without being soulmates - which, by the way, renders the TedxRobin ship pointless, because they were right for each other, but Ted and Tracy were soulmates. Him being hung up on Robin in the latter seasons is almost pathetic, and the thing he does with the locket is insane, not romantic - BUT I will say this: it can be seen in two ways, depending on who's watching. I personally like the two as friends, so I see the whole thing as a "Dahmer" situation, but I get the people who see it as a "Dobler" one and see what he did as a grand romantic gesture. 

The problem, though, is that the whole TedxRobin ship gets pretty old, pretty fast: it's an annoying on-and-off thing, that should have ended with the locket. Because, yes, Ted was in a dark moment, yes, he was probably depressed, yes, he thought Robin was his only shot at happiness, but he changes during season nine! He spends entire episodes letting go of Robin, including the one where she transforms into a balloon and flies away. Ted is the good guy, ultimately. He is the guy that is genuinely happy for his best friends. In one of the deleted scenes from the finale, he meets Robin years later and says that he's so happy with Tracy he never thought about Robin in that way anymore. All of that gets thrown in the trash. Why do that? To use a Harry Potter metaphor, Ted is Severus Snape, while Barney is James Potter: the former loved the girl of his dreams with all his heart, even to the point of creepiness, but they weren't meant to be together. 

Robin

This, along with the next point, is the worst of all: Robin is the worst character of the entire finale. Her relationship with Ted in season 2 is wonderful, and I say that as a full-on Barney/Robin shipper. There was never a problem in their relationship, apparently, but they then break up because they have an "expiration date" and ultimately want different things in life. Except that Ted is not her soulmate. The only times when Robin wants Ted are the times where (1) she can't have him because he's either trying to move on or (2) the times where it's convenient, for example when they become roommates again and they solve their disputes again. Around that time, we see perfectly that Ted had moved on and that the person getting hurt was Barney. It's one thing to see Ted and Robin in the finale as two people picking up where they had left off after they dated. But this is not the case. 

In season 7, we have the exchange that should have put an end to any and all TedxRobin drama, and that completely invalidates whatever the writers wrote after that about the two of them: Ted declares his love - "I think you know how you feel about me now. I don't think time's gonna change that. Just tell me: do you love me?" To which she answers "No". And Ted also says later to Marshall, that he's "happy because he can finally move on". 

What a load of crap. 

Getting over someone is hard, believe me, I would know. And, oftentimes, it doesn't happen until we find someone else to love (and from the moment he meets Tracy, there is no one else for Ted). But by giving Ted feelings for Robin after this moment, it takes away from the beauty of it- because it's one of the most heartbreaking feelings in the world when you declare your love to someone and they don't love you back. Ted and Robin were both honest at that moment, and it was the last genuinely good exchange between them. After that, during season 8 they try to show us Ted trying to get over her (and failing) and in season 9 Ted getting over her completely. This is also weirdly paced because at the beginning of s8 both are in happy relationships with other people and there's no jealousy (which is good, because at least they weren't toxic) and they seem just friends (when Robin leaves Nick to go see him in the middle of the night, she implies that she would do it for any of her friends), but after Ted breaks up with Veronica because of Robin everything is weirdly coated in this sort of tension between the two: first Ted loves her, but she doesn't, so when he helps her by taking her to Barney's proposal ("which means my best bro in the world has given me his blessing"). 

And, by the way, every time they try to paint Ted as the guy that comes through for Robin after this moment, they dumb down Barney's character. And still fail to make Ted a better guy than him (see: the carousel in Central Park). 

Yes, Robin and Ted have some chemistry, but it is nothing compared to what Robin and Barney have. Every time Robin is jealous of Barney, it doesn't seem like a stupid whim, just because some other child is playing with her toys (except, perhaps, during The Robin). Robin and Barney's relationship would need a whole other post, and the next time I rewatch the series I will write down all the things that make them perfect for each other, but, to me, the biggest difference between the two relationships is this: in season 6, when she's not dating either one of them, Ted accuses Robin of never making him feel needed while they were together, whereas Barney praises her for it. Those are elective affinities: that's what Barney and Robin have, and what Tracy and Ted have. 

Barney and Robin have more or less the same arc: they both get over their fear of commitment and they do that with each other. Time and time again, we are told that if they're ever going to settle down, it would only be with the other. The first time they break up is honestly so stupid, and even when they are broken up, they are the best of friends, which also makes Robin's behaviour in the finale look so stupid. The way the two of them fit together is unparalleled, both in a romantic and a platonic way. 

Think about it: Robin makes Barney a better man, while she makes Ted a worse one. 

Also, the whole point that there are different seasons in life for everything gets thrown out the window: apparently, Ted and Robin (that were a couple that ultimately worked in their young twenties) are the same people in their forties.

But that's not even the worst part. The worst part is that the two final episodes butcher Robin's arc as well: episode 23 starts with Lily saying "I want this girl to be in our lives" and we know Robin never made other friends outside of the gang, because she didn't need to, and now she walks away from everything because of fucking Ted?? This is saying "hey, Robin was only in the group for Ted, who brought her in, and now she leaves because he's not her puppy anymore". Robin was the one that was eternally indecisive between Ted and Barney and you're telling me that three years and many many life experiences later, she's still not sure? 

The point of her story is learning how to get over her fear of commitment, learning how to be there for her friends (there's an entire episode dedicated to that, and it's the one where Lily's pregnant and we meet Robin's ex-best friend in Canada), and how to balance her job and her life. Also, the way her character is treated is un-feminist and un-progressive: she becomes Ted's consolation prize. She is passive throughout s9. She cannot, ultimately, win the modern-day struggle most women have and balance out career and love life, so her true life, her "happy chapter" begins after she has already accomplished everything she wanted to and she's free for Ted. She doesn't even go back to him, she just the prize the main character wanted for all his life and only got in the end because his wife died (ONE SCENE, people, ONE SCENE!). Also, this makes Tracy the "broodmare" that gives him the kids he wanted, and his "happy family" experience before he goes to be with his one true love. 

The mother

This. This makes me so mad. One whole season spent on building up Tracy's character, just for it to go to waste. It would have been so easy to screw her up, but she is hands down the best thing about s9. She's the perfect woman for Ted and the episode shot through her perspective is the sweetest. By the end, I liked her more than Robin and Lily. She was the perfect addition to their group, she fit together with them in a perfect way, and they show us the biggest moment of her and Ted's life... for what? To have her die in a few sentences? And I don't care if they shot a funeral scene, I don't care if the finale was supposed to be 40 minutes long, because, in the end, it wasn't. The scene where Ted meets her is the second most beautiful one (after Barney's proposal to Robin) and the climax of the whole show, but they ruin her... and for what? The chemistry Ted has with her, he has with no one. The joy she brings him, the way she understands him, is unlike any other. I am sure that one of the reasons they killed her off was the shock value and I hate it. 

I cannot stress this enough: Tracy makes Ted a better person. When he's with Robin, Ted is "the nice guy" in the most selfish and narcissistic version of the trope. When he's with Tracy, love comes easy to Ted. Also, the scenes between the two of them are arguably the best Ted scenes of the show.

The kids' reactions (ugh)

It's not really what they say- it's the way they say it. The end of HIMYM was not supposed to be funny, even though the show is a sitcom. It was supposed to be bittersweet and beautiful, because it's the end of an era, and the writers must have known that. So, Ted finishes telling his story, reveals to the audience that their now-beloved Tracy is dead, and the reaction is: "No, ahah, you totally have the hots for Aunt Robin" (their words, not mine). Like, what the actual fuck? I cringed when Penny said that. It's tasteless and not fun at all. Even if it has been six years... It's still your fucking mum, show a little bit of sadness at the thought of her. 

The reason the show ended this way

What makes me especially mad is that I know for a fact that the reason they went with this ending is that it was the original one, always intended for the show, from season 2 onwards. And, if you watch it right after s2, it makes sense. But if you consider the eight years that passed and the massive character development, then no, it's not the best possible one. So many things hadn't been decided yet back in s2, especially about Barney, Ted, and Robin, and I hate that they didn't dare to scrap their work. This ending probably had sentimental meaning to the writers, but authors have to do what's best for their characters, not themselves. It's like with GoT, in a way: I think that the authors were all too aware of the impact of HIMYM and didn't believe that their finale would live up to the expectations... which compelled them to make the worst decision possible?? Every single character is OOC during the episode. Oh, and Marshall and Lily moving in the last episode is a ripoff from Friends (or maybe a tribute? Idk). Anyway, I believe that the authors were too attached to their sentimental version of "what should have been" and didn't give the characters the endings they truly deserved.

"Life works this way" // "Life only moves forward"

Some people say that the show is realistic because that's how life works. But I call super-BS on that. That might be true, and yes, people do get sick and die (Max, Marshall's dad...) and life does go on. But then, you don't frame it the way they did. It's just bad storytelling if you do it like that. And the problem is not the structure of season 9, because the characters develop in that season. The problem isn't even the mother's death. The problem is Ted ending up with Robin because that's not life moving forward for him, that's him, doing the same thing he did in 2005, 25 (twenty-fucking-five) years before! 

In conclusion, this finale is incoherent and inconclusive, and not satisfying at all. The only character that gets a good ending is Marshall: why is that? What makes his ending great? It's the fact that his character arc is respected and he finally gets what he's been working towards for more than ten years.

[captainhawkbuckwrites]

Owe you this much (Din x Reader)

Hey all! So my motivation has been zero so I thought I would finish a WIP I have had for over a year now, because I finally watched Boba Fett (get ready for poorly written fic for Boba, Din and Fennec from me…..) so here it is, not great but hopefully it is enjoyable.

Warning - suggestive themes

“Spit it out” I shout. Peli Motto had been starring at me for the last 5 minutes, it had started to put me on edge.

"What?" She replies from inside her cabin, making herself look busy.

"You obviously have something to say so come out with it" I turn my head away from cleaning my blaster to beckon her outside onto the bench I was sat on.

"Nothing" she says, coming out to stand across from me. "Just trying to figure you out. Mando doesn't seem the sort to have a girlfriend, you must be special"

"Girlfriend?!?!" I practically spit out. I mean we had a few late night adventures, if you get my drift but anything more than company and a comrade in arms, you definitely were not. "We are nothing like that"

"You couldn't have fooled me, he was attentive with the kid, but you? This is something else"

"I have only stayed behind because he didn't want his mission compromised by the Marshall being distracted, after last time we were-"

"He has been on planet and not-"

"Just after I started flying with him we had a quick mission, he did come here before we left, when he brought that meat? He felt bad not visiting. I was asleep by the time we made it here so he probably didn't mention me, no need for him to really. We are still unsure how long I will be with him"

"What, are you him bounty too?"

“No, I saved him, and delivered him his bounty, we decided we were a pretty good team. Just seems right, and as you can probably imagine, when things start feeling right, that normally means things are going to go tits up”

“Well, you are both obviously blind, he isn't scared the Marshall is going to get distracted, he is scared he is going to get distracted, when he gets back here I am going to bang both of your heads together.” I go to argue further but am interrupted by a voice.

“Whose heads are you banging together?” Mandos apears making a b line to the bench I am sat on.

“Yous two, you need to both get your acts together! You like her and for some unknown reason she likes you, happiness doesn't come along that often in this life, trust me I should know. get yourselves inside and sort yourselves out.” She pointed to the razor. “I have a poker game to get to” with that she was gone. .

“Well you have never listened to her before why start now” I say cheerfully trying to ignore what had just been said, bouncing off to the heater where I had put a wrap I had bought for him earlier in the day. “There you go, give it a bit. Sorry i should of took it out sooner, I bet it had been a tough day.” I carry on, walking over to him to hand him it.

“You know, she is right. Will you come and share this with me?”

“Um…….” I stand there dumbfounded. “Wouldn't you prefer to be alone.”

“I would prefer for you to come and share this with me”

“But-“ I try to argue, he normally ate alone, it was easier for him to eat without the mask on.

“I am going to eat with you.” He is going to take it off? Sure I know he takes it off, the times he has stayed with me for the full night I had seen him without it, in the dark so not fully but I could see the outline of his jaw and shadows of hair on his face, he didn't know and I wasn't going to tell him of what I had see but this was different.

“You are-“

“Yes.” He cuts me off before I can finish the question.

“But-“

“I want-“

“No, you can't, you-“

“I want to” he grabs my hands, stopping me from moving or fussing. I just listen, listen to him. “I have thought about this and I want to do this”

“But why?” I question, his helmet is a bit part of who he is, I don’t want him doing something he may regret.

“Because I owe you this much” he says sadly looking at our hands intertwined.

“You don't owe me anything Mando-“

“Din, you can call me Din” he says with a bit of dominance, lifting his head, even without seeing his face I could tell his eyes are burning into me. “ I have told you this before. I want you to see me.”

“I do, I do see you Din, going against your belief is not going to change that”

“Y/N please, I need to do this. I need you to see me when I tell you what I am about to tell you, I am not taking no as an answer.” He paused. “Ok?”

“Ok.” I give in. When Din wanted to do something little old me was not going to stand in his way.

“Come.” He says taking my hand, leading me onto the ship. “Take a seat” He almost asks, sitting down on some boxes I had fastened down in the hold to give us somewhere to sit to do mediocre tasks.

We both sit there slightly facing each other before he removes the wrap off his lap, breaks it in half and gives one of the halves to me.

“Thank you” I say placing mine next to me. I knew it would be too hot to eat, he obviously knew too when he moved his to the other side of him. I can tell he is anxious, by his foot unconsciously tapping.

“Din” I whisper, taking his hands with my right hand and placing my left hand caressing the side of his helmet. “You don't have to do this, I can just leave you to eat.”

“No I want to do this, I need to, I just don't want to be a disa-“

“No, stop it right there Din, you have never and will never be a disappointment. You are a beautiful soul; outside and in.” That seemed to be all that he needed to hear, his hands left mine and went straight to his mask removing it slowly, revealing his face for the first time; his defined jawline, speckled with scruff, his mouth I had felt soo many times before but never seen, his lips look as divine as they felt, and finally unmasking the most gorgeous brown eyes I had ever seen in my life.

I was awestruck.

"You are beautiful" I moved my left hand up to caress his face without thinking. Once I realised what I had done I went to remove it, only to be held in place by his hand on top of mine.

“I love you Y/N”

“Din, I love you too.” I want to kiss him, but I hold back. Din, not making the first step. He was experienced when it came to sex, he was cocky even, but this, it was new to him, still him being so unsure put me on edge, I don't want him to feel uncomfortable “Din” I whisper, moving my thumb slowly in a much of a circular motion as I can with his hand still enclosing mine. “Din”

“Sorry I-“

“Din, can I kiss you?”

He didn't even reply, our lips collided. Both of us fighting for dominance. We get closer, hands tangled in the others hair, lips on each other’s, teeth clattering and tongues entangled in their own dance. Suddenly, he moves away.

“On my knee baby girl” Dins hands are on your hips to guide you onto him, knocking the food in the process.

“What about the food?” You ask flustered, your hands exploring him.

“It can wait, I know a much tastier meal I want to eat right now baby girl. You.”

[keanureevesisbae]

But professor… - c.7

Summary: Penny discovers something

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings: Mentions of sex

Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

It’s February now and I officially quit school. Never in a million years did I think that I would be good enough for it anyway and when I went back after Christmas break, I realized I wasn’t in the right place at all. Ever since I dropped out, I have been looking into cosmetology school and how to tell my parents about this sudden change.

Walter is getting ready to teach for today and is going to drop me off at the mall, because I need to buy a few things. Since I have yet to move out of the dorm, I need at least some boxes and just some other items.

‘Princess, you look absolutely gorgeous,’ Walter says, patting my butt through my jeans.

I squeal, before turning around, slapping him across his chest. ‘Don’t do that,’ I laugh.

‘Why not?’ He wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me up. ‘You’ve got a cute butt.’

After I triple checked if I have everything, the two of us leave his loft and walk downstairs towards the garage, his hand securely wrapped around mine. Like usual, he opens the door for me and kisses me the second he got in his truck as well. It’s becoming a thing now and it’s weird if he doesn’t do it.

Walter holds my hand as he drives towards the mall. ‘Princess, how about you and I get you moved in the middle of the night? So I can help you carry some boxes.’

‘I can ask someone to help me,’ I say. ‘Maybe just call someone from one of those services. Please, I don’t want to risk running into someone I might possibly know.’ When I notice he isn’t liking it, I say: ‘Please, Walter, don’t sweat it. I can move out myself.’

‘I know, I know,’ he grumbles. ‘It’s just that I want to help you out.’ He presses a kiss on my hand and leans back in his seat. ‘You look beautiful.’

‘Do you need to tell me that every opportunity you get?’

‘Yes,’ he simply says. ‘Come on, princess, scoot a little closer.’

It’s been a few weeks since he got the truck fixed, so I could sit closer to him. I unbuckle myself, before sliding over to his side. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and I close my eyes after I strapped myself into the seatbelt. ‘You’re so needy,’ I chuckle.

‘I’m not needy, I just love you. Need you as close as possible, darling.’

His arm feels heavy on my shoulders and when we’re close to the mall, I say: ‘Do you need anything?’

‘Maybe some snacks, but I’ll leave that up to you.’ He gives me a long kiss, before I get out of the truck.

‘I love you,’ I say.

‘I love you too, princess. Text me when you’re back at the loft, okay?’

‘Will do.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Shopping was nice, until I had to throw up. That never happened to me before. I think in my entire life I have vomited only once, until today. I stare at the stomach contents that are floating in the toilet. I can’t think of eating anything that has made this nauseous I need to puke.

Why would anyone vomit? The only reasons I can imagine is food poisoning, a stomach bug or being pregna—

Oh.

Could it be?

I flush the toilet and with the moving boxes that I have yet to fold into boxes, I walk through the shopping mall to the drugstore. I ask the woman behind the registry if I can have a pregnancy test and she simply nods. I don’t know what I was expecting (maybe the woman first completing a three hour interview before handing me a test, I don’t know), but after I paid for it and hid it in my purse, I walk out of the mall.

What if I’m pregnant? I mean, yes, I did skip a period, but that is not new to me. I mean, I’ve been pretty regular all my life, minus a few times. Normally me skipping a period didn’t make me suspect anything, since I wasn’t having sex, nor was I the next virgin Mary, but now…

Walter and I have been having sex quite a lot. I mean, it’s always with a condom of course, but even those are not one hundred percent effective.

I might be naive from time to time, but I’m not that stupid to unrealistic about the effectiveness of condoms.

The bus ride back to the loft couldn’t be any longer and when I finally arrive at Walter’s place (soon to be ours), I quickly text him I’m home, before hiding into the bathroom. Buying one was weird, peeing on a stick is weirder.

As I wait for the two minutes to pass by, I think about what to do. Would I have a baby at this age? I mean, I’ve always wanted kids and maybe now is a good time? Okay, no, it’s not absolutely ideal (the timing couldn’t have been more off), but… I’m not in school right now and—

Oh no, that’s just me being selfish and only thinking about my situation. I haven’t even thought about Walter yet. We never spoke about having kids, because I don’t think you are supposed to do that this early on in your relationship.

Right?

Oh my goodness, this is too much for me to think about. Let’s just wait until I see what the test says. I mean, there is a possibility I’m not pregnant and just a little bit late with my period and caught a stomach bug. Why think about all sorts of scenarios when there is a chance that it’s not applicable to me.

I grab the test and discover it has two strips. After a quick examination of the box I discover that…

I’m pregnant.

✎ ✎ ✎

Six hours. Six hours have passed by since I took the first test. In that time, I went back to the drugstore, to buy another one and peed on that one as well. They say there is no such thing as a false positive, but I’d rather be too sure.

And that one was also positive.

So naturally I spend my time wisely until Walter came home. I’ve been pacing through the loft, looked online how to tell your partner that you are pregnant and I ate some watermelon.

Walter walks in with a deep frown between his brows, but that disappears when he sees me. ‘Princess,’ he says, ‘you have no idea how much I missed you.’ He sits next to me on the couch and gives me a kiss. The frown appears again when he takes in my expressions. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I’ve got something to tell you.’

He nods. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yes, it’s just that… I don’t know. It’s kinda huge.’

He places his arm on the backrest, while his other hand takes mine. ‘Tell me, princess.’

Don’t beat around the bush, just tell him. ‘I’m pregnant, Walter.’

If it were possible, I’d suspect someone pressed on pause, because Walter completely froze. He tries to find some words for it, however nothing seems to leave his lips. I mean, what am I expecting from him? I’m trying to figure out whether or not I should be happy or scared.

‘Oh,’ he finally says. ‘And you’re planning to keep the baby or not?’

I nod. ‘I do and I understand that it’s too soon for us and that you won’t want to stay. I really understand that, Walter. I’m so sorry.’

Walter scoffs and actually looks super offended. ‘I do not understand why you think I wouldn’t stay, because I’m going to be right by your side, every step of the way.’ He squeezes in my hand and says: ‘You will never get rid of me that easily, princess.’

I let out a nervous chuckle, realizing how stupid it was of me to actually think he wouldn’t stay. I mean, we’re talking about Walter here. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say, ‘for just assuming. It’s just that my brain is working overtime. I might be a little scared.’

He nods. ‘I understand. It’s quite a lot, but let’s think about one thing first, okay?’ His lips curl up into a smile and says: ‘We’re going to be parents.’

When someone else says it, it’s even more meaningful. My eyes fill with tears as realization hit that I am indeed gonna be a mom and that Walter is staying, thus becoming a dad.

Walter pulls me closer and gives me a kiss on my forehead. ‘Princess, it’s okay.’

‘I know, but it’s so scary. So much is gonna change.’

He nods. ‘Nothing we can’t handle though.’ He pulls me on his lap and gives me another peck, this time on my lips. ‘Now we really need to get you out of that dorm. This weekend I’ll make sure someone is gonna help you with moving and you’re gonna stay right here with me.’

I smile. ‘I can’t wait.’

‘And,’ he says, ‘do you really want to go to cosmetology school now? We can always arrange something when the baby is here.’

‘I kinda want to focus on the pregnancy first, since I have no idea what to expect.’

‘Alright,’ he says, ‘then we’ll wait with that.’ He places his hand on my flat stomach and says: ‘Oh shit, Penny, I’m gonna be a dad.’

I can’t help but squeal when I think about it a while longer. ‘And I’m gonna be a mom.’

✎ ✎ ✎

It’s only obvious that we have to tell my parents. After I had my first scan, I realize that I really shouldn’t push the matter and just tell them, especially because the baby is healthy and I’m out of my first trimester at fifteen weeks of pregnancy. Besides, I also officially live with Walter and those nerves are slowly becoming less and less prevalent.

My bump is minuscule, but that doesn’t stop Walter from continuously placing his hands on it when he can. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing, his hands are always on my stomach, but that’s okay. It’s sweet to see the demeanor of the detective change from someone who always has a figurative thunderstorm hanging above his head, to someone with childlike happiness.

We’re driving to Maryland now and we’ve been on the road for a mere forty-five minutes, when I say: ‘I have to pee.’

Walter starts to laugh loudly. ‘Again? Princess, you went three times back at home.’

Home. That shouldn’t make me giggly, but sure does. ‘I know, but I have to go again.’

‘Lucky you there’s a gas station right here.’ He gets off the road and parks his car. ‘Want something to eat, princess?’

‘Some orange juice, chips and chocolate.’

He simply nods and tells me to stay put. As usual, he opens the door for me. He was already very chivalrous when we just started dating, but pregnancy has multiplied it by a hundred. He securely places his hand on the small of my back and like the true detective he is, he checks everything and everyone in the gas station, before he says: ‘I’ll be right here, princess.’

I squeeze his hand, a silent thank you, before walking off to the restrooms to pee. After I washed and dried my hands, I exit the restrooms, to see Walter is already waiting for me, with all the snacks I wanted and even some more.

It’s nice to know that he still loves me a lot, even after we spend so many weeks together.

Once we’re back in the car, I let out a deep sigh.

‘Princess, you okay?’

‘Yeah, I’m good. Just tired.’

‘Why don’t you sleep?’ he suggests. ‘I’ll let you know once we’re close.’

I groan. ‘No, because that is so boring and I’ve been boring for so many weeks now.’

He scoffs. ‘You’re not boring, you’re pregnant. You’re allowed to be tired, princess and please just catch up on some sleep now.’

I hold his hand in mine, as I close my eyes and drift off to a light sleep. Walter doesn’t need to wake me up, because after an hour or so my eyes flutter open and I smile. ‘We’re almost there?’

‘Maybe an hour?’

I grab some of the snacks and feed Walter, as he continues to watch the road. I once saw how he drove, because we were video calling then. It was fast, hasty and in my opinion not very safe. When he drives with me, he doesn’t ignore the speed limits and is very very safe.

Imagine if there’s a child in the back, I bet he’ll drive just as safe, if not safer.

He places his hand on my stomach and says: ‘I’m not gonna lie, but I’m kinda nervous to meet your parents.’

‘You are?’ I ask. I thought nervous wasn’t in his dictionary. ‘Why?’

‘I don’t know, it’s just nerve wracking. Not only have I never met them, but I also got you pregnant. That usually doesn’t do well.’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry,’ I say. ‘My parents are very open minded. Besides, my mom and I used to watch Sixteen and Pregnant and she always said that despite not having to worry about that since I lived like a nun back then, she’d love a grandchild. So, I think we’re good. Also, my dad is probably a little scared of you. He is not that tall.’

Walter chuckles. ‘Well, maybe this’ll go well.’

‘It’ll go splendid, Walter,’ I say, ‘really. If my parents see how well you take care of me, then there is nothing to worry about.’ I place my hand on his and whisper: ‘They’ll love you.’

He smiles. ‘Good. Alright, let me get this straight one last time: we met at a coffee place, right?’

‘Correct,’ I chuckle.

The last part of the drive goes by fast and before we get out of the truck, I put on a sweater to hide the little bump. Walter unbuckles himself and his hand slips underneath the thick fabric, placing it on my tiny bump. He leans forward to press a kiss on it and says: ‘I can do this forever. I might have to quit my job, so I can do this whenever I want.’

I roll my eyes. He has been taking this dad thing so serious and while sometimes it’s very cheesy, I love him for it. Really, I couldn’t have asked for a better man to start having a family with. Is it pretty short notice, being only together a little over four months? Yes, of course, but that’s okay. I feel like the two of us can actually handle it. ‘We should go.’

We get out of the car and when we walk up to the door (Walter holding our luggage, since my mom insisted we stayed in the house I grew up in) my parents open the it and mom runs up to me.

‘Oh, honey, there you are!’ She gives me a hug and I hold back a little, so she won’t feel my bump against her body. I give my dad a hug as well and they look both hopeful and a little nervous when they see Walter.

‘Mom, dad, this is my boyfriend Walter. Walter, these are my parents, Lance and CC.’

Walter is polite, a role that fits him so well, yet I barely see it. He is always so sweet and kind to me, so grumpy and annoyed when it comes to my classmates and so neutral when it’s others. Now it changes a bit. He smiles, he shakes my parents’ hands and from the look of their faces, he isn’t over squeezing it (I actually had to tell him that). ‘Nice to meet you,’ Walter says. ‘You have a lovely looking home.’

‘Oh, aren’t you a dear.’ Mom ushers us to come inside and Walter places his hand on my back, as we follow them inside. I give him a little nod, a sign that it is all going well.

And, it actually goes really well. My parents are in love with Walter and he is slowly warming up to them, eventually even cracking some jokes. We talked about how the two of us “met”, what Walter does for a living (currently he is working at the police department in New York and not as professor at NYU) and a little bit about my parents’ work. Of course, the subject school came up once or twice, but I kinda chickened out telling them I actually quit.

I clear my throat and say: ‘I actually have some news.’

Walter finds my hand underneath the table and gives me a reassuring squeeze.

‘What is it, honey?’ mom asks.

I look at Walter, whose eyes say it all: I’m ready when you are. ‘Well,’ I whisper, ‘I… I’m pregnant.’

Oh no, they’re silent. Oh my gosh, how are they going to react? I bet they’re mad. Oh, shit, my dad is clenching his jaw. They are totally mad.

‘Are you serious?’ my mom asks, blinking a few times.

I nod. ‘Fifteen weeks.’

‘Oh my goodness,’ mom says. ‘Honey, that is amazing. I am so happy for you.’ She stands up from the table and walks over to me. I give her a hug and she whispers: ‘You’ll be a fantastic mom.’ She pulls back and squeals something about becoming a grandmother. She places her hand on my stomach. ‘Oh my, a little bump. Honey, this’ll go fantastic. I am sure you and Walter will become magnificent parents. That reminds me, Walter, give me a hug. You’re officially part of the family, now. Congratulations, sweetheart.’

Walter stands up and gives my mom a tight hug. Dad walks up to me and holds my face in his hands. ‘You’re gonna be an amazing mother,’ he says.

‘You think so?’

‘I don’t think so, I know so.’ He gives me a kiss on my forehead and says: ‘Is this also a right moment to tell me you quit school?’

My eyes enlarge. ‘How did you know?’

‘You can maybe fool your mom, but you can never fool me, sweetheart. You know, you focus on your pregnancy now. You can always go back to school.’

I let out a sigh of relief. Thankfully he is pretty cool about me just quitting. We’ll talk about eventually going to cosmetology school a little bit later on. ‘I love you, dad.’

‘I love you too.’

✎ ✎ ✎

That night, Walter and I are in my old room, squeezed in my two person bed (that is a little slimmer than the one back in the loft) and we reminisce about the evening. It went more than splendid, even when my mom forced me to take off my sweater so she could see the bump. She called at least ten friends to tell them she is gonna be a grandmother and that the child will be gorgeous and lovely, though they have yet to be born.

Walter turns to his side so he can look at me and says: ‘Okay, I have a proposition,’ he says, ‘and I want your honest opinion.’

‘Okay.’

‘How about, you and I move to Maryland?’

Is he serious? ‘Really?’

‘Really. I could see how happy your parents were with the pregnancy and maybe… Maybe they’d like it if you would be closer to them. Besides, I can arrange something and work in Maryland. It’s not like I’m bounded to New York. For that matter, I actually really want to leave that place, because if I see that slimy ass Fitzgerald one more time…’

While I start to laugh because of his personal vendetta against Fitzgerald, my hormones are also all over the place, because I bawl my eyes out only a second later.

‘Princess, don’t cry. This is good news.’ He presses kisses on my temple and cheek, kissing my tears away. ‘But I’ll take that as a yes?’

I nod. ‘I would love that, Walter. Thank you.’

[spiked-tea-writing]

and they were roommates?!

SapnapxFem!Reader

Summary: Imagine being in love with your roommate, couldn't be you.

Pronouns: She/her

Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 2.3k

A/n: I don’t watch or know anything, I just like these people and I had a concept. Also, he and Dream aren’t roommates in this for the sake of I can’t figure that out. Also also, my timeline is probably fucked but who cares

The dynamic in the apartment was...interesting to say the least

In the two years of living together, it had shifted a lot

In the beginning, you and Sapnap had been... less than cordial to each other

Both eighteen, fresh out of high school, off to college thinking that you knew everything.

There was lots of fighting, to say the least.

All of the “No it’s your turn to vacuum”, and “I swear to god Sapnap I will punt you halfway across the world if you eat my pineapple again”

The only reason you didn’t slit each other’s throats was that if the other person was dead, who would pay rent?

It was the summer before college started at the time, and you were working long hours minimum wage so coming]’/ home to an annoying prick caused a crap ton of conflict

After a few months of being little bitches to each other, y’all got piss drunk in the apartment and it all just sorta fell apart

Got that good drunk therapy, spilling your deepest secrets

(y’all were underage but shhh)

So by the time college started, the two of you had become actual friends and started enjoying each others company

A few months into the friendship, you encouraged him to post the video of “Minecraft, but it’s Raining Cats and Dogs” on a whim

Lmao little did you know what you had created (we’ll get to that later)

You mocked his train of thought constantly, laughing at the timing of it all.

“Ahhh yes, I am Sapnap, the genius who thought it’d be great to become a YouTuber while in my first year of college.”

He’d always just laugh and roll his eyes, playfully shoving you while stealing your chips.

The next few months were a haze of studying, work, and him.

It was truly a friendship of convenience since you guys were so busy, him starting his youtube career, and you working restaurants, then school on top of that, it was just easy to find friendship in your roommate.

Of course, he had his close friends which he spoke to over the internet, and you had your friends from back home, but as for college, it really was only him.

You guys had a fun time just hanging around the apartment, and it became so easy to be friends with him

And it WAS truly platonic (we’ll get back to that as well)

The best thing he brought to the friendship was his animals

You got on fabulously with Cash and the cats

They were all so cuddly and honestly loved you more than him lmao

You guys were just trying to get degrees and not be too stupid, was that too much to ask???

Well to a certain 2020, it was

The beginning of that year was great.

He was sorta realizing that he liked putting himself on social media, but on top of that, it seemed like a great start to a year.

February brought him to twitch, which you loved

You found it hilarious how he would just sorta play games and have people watch him live.

But you were incredibly supportive, as a friend, of course

He really liked it so, you tried to ignore the shouting at three am, and the loud anthems at night

Sure you’d give him hell in the morning, but why kill his fun?

March started great, as it was his birthday.

You got him a glittery lighter as a gag, but it was the perfect gift for a broke-ass college student

Then a certain pandemic came a-knockin’ on y’all’s door

It was a hard hit on both of you.

An executive decision was made that you two would stay put, but being away from your families was incredibly tough.

That spring was the birth of The SMP.

It brought him so much joy, which in turn made you happier.

The rest of the school year was a blur of zooms and test

Nick nearly killed you on multiple occasions when you made fun of the fact that he was learning computer science over the computer or made him help you figure out what the fuck zoom was since it was tangentially related to his major

“SAP HELP ME YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS ITS YOUR FUCKING MAJOR!!!”

“NO, IT’S- AHHHHHHHHH”

Yall got more than a handful of noise complaints shhhh

That summer was fill was spent trying to fill the time in weird ways

Note to self, he can’t cook (which you learned the hard way)

Yall spent so much time trying to cook and bake, then sweating off the calories working out with The Fitness Marshall lmao

As sucky as the situation was, that summer was so incredibly fun for the both of you, and truthfully the only arguments were about what music to blast

“Y/n I swear if I listen to Cosmicandy one more time I will drown you.”

“Well if I hear American Idiot one more time someone’s knee caps are getting harvested.”

(that argument was settled with Elton John.)

When school started up again that fall, something shifted

After a year of actual friendship, you guys were no longer just friends, and the tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife

You had watched every single one of his streams since day one, but within 2 seconds of his Love or Host, you felt the need to hurl for some peculiar reason

It was bizarre because there was no way you could ever like him, of course not.

Within the apartment, you guys suddenly got a lot more touchy, but only because it was getting cold with winter and all that jazz.

It wasn’t because yall were secretly in love, what is this, a romcom?

The number of times you guys woke up on the couch, definitely not cuddling was too many to count

You started sitting in his room while he streamed, definitely not watching him with heart eyes because of how excited he got

He always had a pot of coffee full and a 6-pack of monster in the fridge since he knew you ran on spite and caffeine, and definitely not so that he could spend more time with you in the early hours of the morning.

The laundry started getting all mixed around, resulting in just sharing any sweats, hoodies, or socks.

The same thing went for food.

No longer was anything labeled with a name, if it was in the fridge, it was fair game (unless there was a post-it because come on, yall weren’t monsters)

But no, y’all were just roommates, not dating, lets make that clear.

Feelings? We don’t know her.

This entire time, his friends have had to hear about you rip.

But they got front row seats to your relationship development

“OMG my roommate is the worst she ate all of the frozen strawberries”

“Y/n kidnapped Storm all day while she studied and I thought I lost the fucking cat asjvdk”

“I had to run down and talk to the landlord because we dropped a pot of pasta sauce all over the carpet and couldn’t get the damn stain out.”

“She is so nice in preparation for a family dinner zoom, she ran out to the local Filipino food place and pick stuff up.”

“Sorry I’m late I overslept and didn’t want to wake up Y/n.”

They weren’t stupid, and could clearly see how whipped he was.

Dream and Geroge teased him about it constantly.

“Woah, calm down Sap, you should probably tell her you love her before you propose.”

“Yeah Dream’s right, it’s kinda weird that you’re living together before ever dating.”

He always flushed and denied it with a shake of his head.

He wasn’t into you, are they crazy?

Quackity and Karl messed with him in more unorthodox ways

There are a solid number of clips where they are fake crying over how he’s cheating on them, and even more tweets to match

It only got worse when you met them accidentally.

He was chatting post-stream on a video channel with George, Dream, Karl, and Quackity, and just his luck, you came into his room.

Like of all the times you could walk in, it was the time he was with his five closest friends but I digress

“Yo I got some extra tips yesterday so I picked up some extra Red Bull if you want to do one of your weird all-nighter streams.”

“Y/n I’m on channel.”

“Oh shit sorry my b. Catch.”

All the guys heard was a thud and a groan from Sapnap as the six-pack hit him in the chest.

Dream was the one to recognize your name.

“WAIT IS THAT Y/N I WANT TO MEET THEM!”

You could hear Dream’s voice through his headphones

“Sap… who is that?”

“No one. I’ll be out in a sec to help with dinner.”

You could hear a British voice come through.

“Oh so we are no one now, huh.”

Another voice piped through.

“Common... ¿Qué intentas ocultar?”

You cut in.

“Your headset it shit my guy. I can hear everything. I’m down to talk to them.”

He let out a groan.

“Fine. But you’re gonna have to do the dishes tonight.”

“Deal. Now move.”

“What? No.”

“Fine bitch.”

You collapsed onto his lap, plucking the headphones off of him.

“Hello, Sapnap’s friends. I am Y/n. A pleasure to meet y’all. Can you hear me?”

You heard a series of laughs through the headset, and a voice came through.

“Yes, we can see you too. I’m Karl, it’s so nice to finally meet his girlfriend.”

A blush rose on both of your faces, and another voice came through.

“Yeah, we’ve heard lots about you. Plus we can’t see your face in that picture Sap sent us. I’m Quackity”

That remark stopped your embarrassment in its tracks.

“What the fuck? How do you guys know me? I’m not even his girlfriend? And what picture?”

Sapnap grabbed your arm to calm you down as another voice cut in, but his one you recognized as his friend Dream.

“Hey, it’s okay. He just talks about you a bit, and the picture I believe was of you holding like three cats with like a red bull can on your head.”

“Jesus fucking christ why do they have that photo??”

He looked guilty but chuckled.

“Because that photo is a damn masterpiece.”

Karl’s voice came back in with a giggled.

“Soooo, Y/n we’d love to hear about you. Specifically anything funny or embarrassing that you have learned by living with him.”

Sapnap let out a groan from behind you as you went off.

“WELL lemme tell y’all, he has no cooking knowledge, well I mean, now he does, but one time, about a year ago, I had I been keeping a pot of water boiling for about an hour, soft boiling eggs, cooing noodles, blanching bok choy, etc. but this fucking genius is like ‘oH tHe HaNdLe Is StIcKiNg OuT. LeMmE mOvE iT wItH mY bArE hAnD.’ Needless to say, he burnt the crap outta his hand and kept the bag of frozen blueberries on it for the entire night. It took me like a solid five seconds to actually help him because I was laughing.”

By the time you had finished that story, you had seen Nick roll his eyes like 5 five times while the rest of the guys were wheezing.

“Yeah, well remember the time you were trying to imitate Rapunzel after we had watched it over Zoom with my sister, and you swung the edge of the frying pan into our head and got a nasty bump on it? At least I moved quick enough to put some ice on it.”

“Ice? It was the damn leftover Slushy that I had been freezing.”

“True, but you got to drink it after, so it was a win-win situation.”

“Sap, I had a bump the size of a golfball coming off of my temple. There was no winning.”

“Fine, you’re just making me sound like such a shit roommate.”

“No that’s not true, you do all of the talking to the landlord, and you at least tried to muffle the noise when you stream.”

“I guess that’s true, but you do like 80% of the cleaning.”

“Yeah but only because you’re working. Plus in the past 6 months, you’ve made coffee every morning, AND made sure I was taking my meds.”

“Those things aren’t that hard and I do it to make sure you don’t die because I lo- care about you.”

“What?”

“What?”

You heard Dream’s wheeze laugh and remembered that you guys were still on call.

“Smooth.”

You both went red, and Sap moved his arm around you to leave the channel.

The next few moments were complete torture, the two of you just sitting in silence.

You were wondering if he meant what he was about to say and he was scared that you had heard it.

He was the one to break the silence. (mind you you’re still sitting on his lap lmao)

“I’m sorry about that.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. Should you ask him if he meant it? Because that wouldn’t be that bad. Or just pretend it never happened. Nah that’d be hella awkward. Or-

“I love you too.”

“You what?”

Wow, okay your brain is being a little bitch rn, but fuck it. Balls to the walls baby.

“I love you, and I have for a while now. I just want you to know.”

You finally looked him in the eye, and he was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Thank god. I love you, and nearly fucking told you for the first time in front of my friends accidentally. Damn, I’m smooth.”

You laughed and he smiled wider.

“Can I kiss you?”

After a quick nod he swooped in and holy hell his lips felt great. His arm wound around your waist and your hands made their way to his jaw as he pulled you closer to him.

The only thing playing in your mind was “and they were roommates”

[angryschnauzer]

Just What I Need

Summary; Working in a coffee shop you meet all sorts of people, but one customer in particular is always friendly, a local Detective from the nearby precinct. When one night he orders through a delivery service rather than in store, you get more than a tip when you make the delivery.

Fandom; Nomis (Night Hunter) Movie, Henry Cavill

Pairing: Detective Walter Marshall x Female Reader (no race or size specified)

Trope: Coffee Shop Meet Cute

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Flirting, Masturbation (male), Oral Sex (female recieving), unprotected sex, Vaginal Sex, Snowstorms.

I do not operate a tag list but instead please pop over and follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, then you’ll get an alert every time i post a new story. My Masterlist got too long and tumblr ate it, so all my past stories can also be found on my AO3, link HERE

A/N: I am considering expanding this story, depending if people like it and want me to? Let me know! <3

Just What I Need

 Running the steam through the coffee machine you wiped the nozzle and smiled, there were just fifteen minutes until closing and the coffee shop you worked at was all but abandoned. Just your manager in the back counting the cash takings, and you were getting ready to box up the remaining muffins and cookies for the homeless shelter volunteer to collect dead on closing time.

 You didn’t mind working the late shift, in fact you preferred it over the early shift opening up at 7am. The 7am crowd were grumpy, rude and always in a rush. The 7pm customers were tired, quiet, and always thankful for whatever caffeinated delights you provided them with.

 The bell over the door rang as it opened and you looked up over the cups that were stacked on top of the machine, smiling at you saw the weary familiar face coming towards you;

 “Good Evening Detective” you smiled as the beast of a man stood at the counter. His face softened as he saw you, his shoulders dropping a little as he relaxed.

 “Hey… Sorry I’m in so late… you’re still open, right?”

 You glanced at the clock;

 “Another ten minutes. What can i get you?”

 You watched as he cast his gaze up to the handwritten chalkboard menu’s above the counter;

 “You got any Chilli left?”

 “Sure, a couple of pots in the fridge. Want me to warm it up?”

 He paused for a moment, as if trying to process the most technical question through his tired mind;

 “No… yes… urghhh…” he took a deep breath; “Yeah… if you wouldn’t mind. I’m so fuckin’ tired i think I’d burn my apartment down if i tried to use the stove”

 “Sure thing” you said with a smile as you got to work.

 You made small talk as you prepared his order, pulling out the sides and condiments that came with the Chilli meal;

 “Hey, you want a free muffin?”

 “I’m not really into sweet things this late at night… what flavours you got?”

“How about an Apple Cinnamon? It’ll last overnight and still be fresh enough for breakfast”

 The Detective smiled and nodded, pulling his wallet out as you finished bagging his order and rang it through for him, paying before you handed the bag to him;

 “Have a good evening Detective”

 As he turned he smiled at you;

 “Call me Walter”

 -

 Three days later and you were on the late shift again. Again it was quiet, just the soft sound of tyres driving through slushy snow outside the only noise since around 6pm as just a couple of customers nursed steaming mugs of coffee from their window seats. You saw the big silver truck pull up in the space outside the coffeeshop and smiled, there was only one customer that drove a truck that huge and if you were being honest with yourself you were developing quite a crush on the curly haired Detective.

 The moment he walked through the door you were smiling at him;

 “Detective” you greeted him happily

 “Didn’t i say to call me Walter last time i was here?”

 “I like Detective, has a nice authority ring to it” you said with a wink; “What can i get you tonight?”

 He paused for a moment, and as you reached for a notepad to jot down his order you missed the slight eyebrow raise and smirk at what you’d said before he cleared his throat;

 “What have you got that i can eat in my office without facing the wrath of my Lieutenant for making the department stink?” he said with a grin as he leaned on the counter.

 “I got Mozzarella and Pesto Subs? Tuna Melt?”

 “Tuna is a no. The case isn’t going well, no fish. Gimme two Mozzarella Subs, and the largest black coffee you do”

 “Sure thing. I’ll put a fresh pot on and get those sub’s on the press”

 As you started to prepare his order his phone rang, and you couldn’t help but to listen in;

 “... i’ll be like five minutes, i ain’t eaten all day… yeah ok… i’ll grab a box…”

 He hung up and nodded to the cakes;

 “Can i get a dozen muffins to go too? Got some grunts that are jealous that i got to escape the paperwork…”

 “Sure thing”

 Loading a box you picked what you knew were the best flavours and the freshest bakes;

 “You know, we’re on Uber Eats. As much as its nice to see a friendly face, we can deliver to the Precinct”

 “I… I have no idea what that is…”

 “Its a food delivery app. Here, give me your phone…”

 He unlocked it and set it down and rested his elbows on the counter as he watched;

 “You go to the app store and just download it. Put in your location and it’ll bring up nearby eateries and you can search for us. It has all the standard menu on. Save your card details or link it to paypal, and its super easy, it even keeps you updated when the order is being prepared or its out for delivery”

 He smiled as you pushed the phone back to him, locking the screen and pushing it back into his tight jeans;

 “That’s all well and good, but then i wouldn’t get a chance to see my favourite coffee shop girl now, would i?”

 You leaned forward and grinned, keeping your voice low;

 “Order between 6.45 and 7pm and i snag the deliveries and do them on my way home”

 -

 Walter pushed the key into the lock, opening the door to his apartment and groaning as his body ached from tiredness. He should be elated, they caught the killer, the evidence was logged and couldn’t be disputed… and yet he was tired to his core. He’d been at his desk for longer than he’d been home, and when the Lieutenant had finally ordered him to go him a little after 5pm, it had still taken him the better part of an hour to finish up and leave the building. 

 Shutting the door behind him he felt his stomach rumble. He didn’t even need to look in the fridge to know it was completely empty, devoid of anything even vaguely edible. Checking his phone he saw that it was a little after 6.30pm and a thought fired across his mind, a smile forming. Fifteen minutes later he’d added far more to his online basket than he ever would have done in store, but for the first time he was able to see exactly what the creations were whereas in the store it was just a big pile of weird looking cakes and bakes. By 6.50pm he’d entered his card details and completed the order, the little update screen stating delivery would be by 7.30pm, just enough time to grab a shower, after all if it was you that would deliver, he should probably shower for the first time in 72 hours having rushed out of the apartment three mornings in a row due to new leads in the case.

 The shower was far too enjoyable to rush, and after he’d washed his hair he started on his body, soaping over his chest and stomach before he paid extra attention to his dick. The anticipation of just the possibility of seeing you had him hard in seconds, and resting his head back against the tiled wall he quickly worked his hand over himself. He got lost in the moment, his mind taking him to places it shouldn’t, imagining his hand was yours, thinking about that time he saw you wearing over the over the knee knit socks and a skirt, how your ass was the perfect roundness, how your lips would look stretched around his dick… he came with a groan, thick white ropes falling to the shower floor as every ounce of stress left his body, his body shuddering when he was finally spent.

 He was halfway through drying himself when he heard a knock at the door to his apartment, he eyes going wide when he saw it was 7.20pm;

 “Fuck!”

 He’d gotten carried away in the shower, and now he had to quickly rush to wrap a towel around his waist as a second knock came just as he reached the door, taking a deep breath before opening it and seeing you standing on the doorstep shivering in your padded coat, holding two takeout bags;

 “Hey! Come in, come in, Jeez its freezing out there…”

 Stepping into the apartment you couldn’t help but to look him up and down, attempting to hide your reaction as you could clearly see the distinct outline of something rather large bulging against the fabric of the fluffy white towel;

 “Hey D-d-detective… Y-y-yeah it’s d-d-dropping fast out t-t-there… radio s-s-said it was g-g-gonna be a wind chill of minus t-t-twenty nine by eight o’clock… what a n-n-night to have my b-b-bike, huh?” You carefully dropped the two bags onto his coffee table as you spoke.

 “You cycled here? On that pedal bike that is always chained up outside the coffee shop?” he asked incredulously, immediately forgetting his current state of undress. Shutting the door he immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his chest; “You’re gonna stay here until you’re warmed up, i’m gonna make you a hot coffee and to warm you up from the inside too...”

 “I ain’t gonna complain to that” you mumbled, your face pressed to his chest as you suddenly melted against him, warming your cheek against his firm muscles before turning your head to warm the other one and he let out a little gasp as your cold hands pressed against his sides.

 “I also said for you to call me Walter…” he said quietly.

 Pulling your head back you smiled at him;

 “Thank you, Walter. You’re the best… though you’re the first delivery i’ve made where i’ve been greeted by someone in just a towel”

 “Sorry, let me go put some clothes on…”

 You tighten your grip around his waist;

 “I wasn’t complaining…”

 There was no poignant pause, no longing gazes, his lips met with yours and the kiss was fierce and hungry. He was pushing your coat down your arms and you reluctantly released your hold from his waist to let it drop to the floor, your sweater following soon after. Your lips met again and he was lifting you, wrapping your legs around his waist as his hand rested on your ass beneath your skirt as he walked you through the apartment before dropping you on his bed.

 He was pulling your boots off your feet as you scrambled up the bed, your hands reaching for your thigh high socks when he suddenly caught your hands in his;

 “Leave those on…”

 You paused and grinned, before his lips met yours again and he was on top of you, his hands sliding up your skirt and bunching it around your waist as he pressed a trail of open mouthed kisses down the valley of your breasts and over your stomach, before briefly lifting his head enough to pull your panties down your legs and toss them aside.

 As he lowered his mouth to your core his gaze was intense, vivid blue shining through the dim light of his bedroom, his tongue pushing through your soaked petals and parting them as his beard brushed against your skin, heightening all of the sensations. Wrapping his arms around your thighs he pulled you closer to his mouth, his tongue pushing into you and he started to fuck you with it whilst his bearded face tickled your clit. You were squealing and struggling to stay still, needing to anchor yourself on something as your hips bucked and your orgasm started to rapidly approach, your hands finding their way to his still wet hair and your fingers wrapping around the dark curls as he pressed a hand to your stomach to keep you still, growling at your taste on his tongue as he felt you shake as your orgasm took over.

 When your body had finally stopped shaking Walter pressed a chaste kiss to the inside of each of your thighs before he sat back on his haunches, licking his lips where he could still taste you on them. Pushing yourself up onto your elbows you grinned at him, your gaze travelling down his thick chest to his stomach, and the trail of hair that led beneath the towel;

 “You gonna show me what you’ve got under that towel, Detective?”

 “You ready for what i’ve got under this towel darlin’?”

 Pushing yourself up to sitting, your legs spread and bent either side of him, you hooked a finger into the towel and tugged, your eyes going wide when you saw his thick meaty cock standing hard and proud between his muscled thighs. Wrapping your hands around it you relished the feel of his silky skin as it moved over the hardness beneath, your mouth against his;

 “I need you inside me”

 “I… Fuck… this wasn’t planned… i haven’t got any protection…”

 “I’m on birth control, I want to feel you bare…”

 With a growl he surged forwards, capturing your lips with his own before he pushed you down onto the bed. Holding himself up on one hand he hooked your leg up over his hip, opening you like a winter blossom as he rubbed his dick through your soaked folds, dousing himself with your slick wetness. You whined at the teasing, the way his tip would brush against your hole only to move up to your clit;

 “Walter, please… you promised to warm me up from the inside…”

 He paused, a smirk on his face;

 “You want me to get you a coffee? ‘Cos i can stop…”

 “NO, i need your diiiiiiiiii….FUCK!” He’d pushed into you as you were mid sentence, the feeling of his meaty girth splitting your walls wide open overwhelming you and your eyes rolled back in their sockets; “OH MY GOD!”

 “You like that Darlin? You feeling warmer now?”

 “Please… please fuck me…”

 He grinned and shifted his hips, grinding into you;

 “Well, as you said please…”

 You had been expecting him to pound you into the mattress, you had not been expecting for his technique to start off with sensual rolls of his hips, filling you tenderly and carefully whilst you got used to his size. It was almost overwhelming, completely surrounded as he caged you in with his massive arms, his chest pressed against your own as his hips worked utter magic. He pulled his legs wide apart, shifting to rest on your open hips and he got even deeper. Pressing kisses to your lips and neck he soon had you moaning and begging for release, every push and pull hitting just the right spots and you were almost embarrassingly wet from the arousal but it only added to the sensations.

 You could feel yourself coming, the pleasure too much to hold back, and with a long low moan your body betrayed you and succumbed to the orgasm that had been building in the pit of your belly. Walter kept up the same speed of his thrusts but pushed a little harder, a little deeper with each one;

 “Can feel you fluttering around me, you gonna cum for me? You look so fucking beautiful all fucked out and wanting, feel so fucking amazing…”

 Just as your orgasm was at its peak he tensed and you could feel his cum flooding into you, the twitching of his dick as he filled you with his seed prolonging your high. When you had both finally finished you could feel his weight start to get heavier on top of you, before with a sudden and surprising act of nimble dexterity he rolled the pair of you over so you were laying atop of him, his softening dick slipping out and you felt the trickle of his seed flow out of you. With one massive hand he pulled the duvet across your bodies, and you snuggled up to his chest;

 “That was the best tip ever” you giggled; “In fact definitely more than the tip”

 At that moment you not only heard but felt his stomach growl, looking up and seeing him grin sheepishly as he spoke;

 “I just want you to know this is not how i usually treat food deliveries… do you want something to eat? Or drink?”

 Nodding you smiled;

 “That'd be nice”

 -

 A while later you were cleaned up, Walter having given you one of his massive t-shirts to wear which came to the tops of your thighs. He’d grazed through half the contents of his order as you nibbled on a muffin, having eaten at the coffee shop during a very quiet last hour of your shift. You’d laughed and chatted as the pair of you had eaten on the comfort of Walters couch, before you’d suddenly stopped mid sentence;

 “Shit, i left my bike in the lobby… will it be safe there until i go home?”

 Walter smiled at you, his hand curling around your thigh;

 “Have you heard that weather out there? I’d be surprised if you could even ride it home through three foot of snow…” he paused for a moment; “Stay the night…”

 You went to object, decline politely but you caught yourself, why? Why shouldn’t you spend the night? Taking a deep breath you smiled;

 “I’d love to”

_____________________________________________

Part 2 >>>

[staranon95]

DinCobb Week Day 5: Sharing Cultures (SFW)

for @dincobbweek​ with a wedding!!

@astrangebird​ drew some fantastic art and i decided to write a piece about it. that’s that. that’s all of it.

AO3 Link

Wait For Me Here

“We should get married,” Din idly said one day when they were in bed, side by side to wait out the worst of the day’s heat.”

“Oh yeah?” Cobb asks. He’s on his stomach, pillowed on his arms. Din knows this without even having to look because he knows Cobb likes sleeping on his front, usually one leg tucked up a bit, sometimes one arm stretched out for Din as if he’s reaching for him in sleep.

“Think about it. We live together.”

“Mm.”

“We cook together.”

“Mmhm.”

“We fight together.”

“Mm.”

“And we have a child together.”

Cobb snorts. “Sharing custody of your child with a Jedi might be putting it a bit generous.”

“There are also the school kids.”

“’cause half the time I have to tell them not to get into shit they shouldn’t.”

“Still.”

“Still,” Cobb says and breathes in. Then he opens his eyes and Din turns on his side to face him. “Marriage, huh?”

“Mmhm. Unless if . . .”

“Unless?”

“I don’t know what marriage customs are like on Tatooine, and the ones I’ve been invited to were Tusken in nature.”

“Well, shoot, partner, I reckon we go just as hard with our wedding flair as them Tuskens do.”

“Is that so?”

Cobb nods tiredly against his arms and closes his eyes. “Two-day affair most of the time. Eat and drink late into the night, sleep a few hours, and then get up in the morning for the breakfast feast. Everyone comes out with everything. Real big community thing as well.”

“I, I might like to see that.”

“What about you Mandalorians though?” Cobb then shifts suddenly, rising up long enough to lie himself across Din’s chest and hold him close with a leg in between Din’s. “I know you’ve . . . I know it’s not easy for you.”

Din sighs. The fallout from the survivors of his clan is still fresh. At least they didn’t strip him of his armour, but he doesn’t think they see him as Mandalorian anymore. He saw to their relocation on Tatooine with Boba Fett’s help, and finally they can live without the fear of being seen or being caught. But they will not accept Din as one of their own, not anymore, not after he gave up the Darksaber, allowed his face to be seen, and nearly broke every Creed he had taken on as a young adult.

“Well, the weddings were mostly, they were short,” Din admits. “Usually it requires an exchange, especially if one member were coming from a different clan.”

“An exchange of what?”

“Equipment. Weapons or armour. I once saw someone approach the Armourer to ask her how to show them to make a knife for their betrothed. It’s meant to be personal to a degree. Either you got this weapon in battle or you’re offering up a piece of yourself, your beskar’gam.”

Cobb hums. “Sounds very official.”

“Marriage is a pact. You raise warriors. You grow the clan. You protect the clan.”

“Mm. I can work with that.”

Din smiles. “You’re a very agreeable partner.”

“I try.”

…

What starts out as a simple comment quickly turns into nearly a town wide event. Neither Din nor Cobb know how the secret got out. They were thinking, originally, a small affair with their closest associates. Boba is even willing to host at his palace, and Din is fine with that. But then word gets out, as it always does, that the Marshal and the Mandalorian are planning to get married, and now here they are, eating breakfast at Werlo’s cantina, getting approached by one of the mothers in town who’s there after dropping her kids off at the school, no doubt, casually talking like Din and Cobb know what’s going on.

“Marshal! Have you decided on a date yet?”

Cobb blinks and looks to Din before looking at the woman. “Excuse me?”

“For the wedding! Gaia said you and the Mandalorian were planning to marry.”

Din chokes on his caf.

“Um, well.” Cobb reaches out to pat Din’s hand. “We were planning a small ceremony.”

“Nonsense! I know you’re both busy men. We can handle all the logistics for you. All you and your fiancé need to do is show up to the day!”

“Well, Lee, thank you for the offer,” Cobb says, and Din can see he’s trying to be polite about it, but Din knows Cobb has a hard time turning down any of the favours the townspeople show him.

“It’s my pleasure, Marshal. It’s been some time since we’ve had cause to celebrate! We’ll be in touch!”

“Yeah, Lee. See you.”

Once she’s gone, Cobb looks to Din, and Din tries to smother his smile behind his hand.

“Hey, this is your town too,” Cobb says.

“I know. I guess a small ceremony is no longer in the works.”

“They were going to find out one way or another.”

…

From how Cobb explained it, Din thought he had a good idea of what entailed a Tatooine wedding from the settler-slave population. Good food, good drinks, good company.

“Have you thought about a house yet?”

Din looks to Jo as he’s elbow deep in a speeder. “What?”

“You know,” she says like Din should know. “A house.”

“Why would I—”

“Oh. You don’t know. Right.” She pops her lips. “It’s a Tatooine thing. ‘specially for freed slaves and poor settlers. It’s a thing of pride to be able to provide a place like a home. I know my dad worked hard to get an apartment for me and my ma while he also worked to get our manumission. Tiny one bedroom place ‘til I moved out here. But he was very proud of that place when he had it. Point is—what are you bringing to the table, Din?”

Din blinks and reaches for a towel to wipe sweat from his brow. “I hadn’t thought of anything.”

“Let me give you the one up ‘cause I know the Marshal won’t be asking’ for it himself.” She slides down from her perch on a workbench to lean over the speeder. “Man needs himself a proper house. And I’m talking a proper house. Most of the buildings here are temporary. They’re not built for long term which is why they require so much maintenance. Houses underground are the way to be. They take a while, sure, but when you’ve got a village.”

He frowns. “I thought that was for raising children.”

“Villages are for everything here, Din. If you want to give him something good, really show you love him, come find me when you’ve got free time. I’m pretty sure I can help you out with that issue.”

She then leaves and Din tries to return to his work at hand, but he’s stuck on the thought of a house. Of building a house for him and Cobb and for Grogu when he and his Jedi visit. Where they can host friends and not feel too crammed in Cobb’s home as it is. Where they can actually bring their lives and interests together in one shared space. A shared unit.

Cobb enters the garage looking like he’s dressed up to head into town, and Din stands to greet him. “Hey, darlin’!” He kisses Din on the cheek. Din wrinkles his nose.

“I’m dirty.”

“We’ve been worse to each other. Now. I’m headin’ into town for a bit. Told Jo to hold down the fort and you’re here for back up.”

Din nods. “You don’t want me coming with you?”

“Baby, I know you don’t like to travel to Mos Eisley. Take it easy. I’ll be back shortly after dinner.”

“Okay.”

He helps Cobb push out his speeder onto the main street of Mos Pelgo and kisses him once more before Cobb pulls his scarf up over his mouth and nose and pulls his goggles down over his eyes and offers Din a two fingered salute and then he’s off.

Din trudges down the street towards where Jo is leaning against the wall of the cantina. “So. A house.”

She nods. “Come on. Let’s talk logistics.”

…

In what they originally wanted to be a quick and short wedding turns into a several month-long affair as Mos Pelgo comes out in spades to support their Marshal and Mandalorian in tying the knot. They plan for food and for drinks. They send out invites to the local Tuskens, who also seem enthused that Din is getting married. They think it a good match, and well, at least Din has their approval.

The building of the Marshal’s new house is quietly under wraps. All Cobb knows is that a new house is being built, but he thinks it for one of the families in town, even comes by to watch Din at work in the staked-out pit, helping to dig down and remove sand until they come to the more compacted ground that they can put stabilizers against and hold in place before they’re pouring the plaster and concrete for the walls.

Whenever Din has a spare moment, he plans with Jo for the interior. A nice open kitchen. A large room for the both of them with an en-suite bathroom. There is not only one guest room but two. One that will largely be Grogu’s when he’s here to stay, and also one for the Jedi if he plans on staying the night. Sometimes he does.

Then there’s the living room, circular in design that could hold a dozen people comfortably, and knowing Cobb, he’ll like the opportunity to entertain more. Din thinks it’s perfect, and he finds as he puts the work into making a home, he realizes he’s looking forward to it not just for Cobb’s promised happiness, but also his own. He can’t remember the last time he’s actually had a proper home like this. Not since Aq Vetina anyway.

“You’re in a good mood,” Cobb says that night when they’re finishing the dishes after dinner.

Din shrugs. “Just happy I guess.”

“Good.” Cobb kisses him quickly on the cheek. “You deserve to be.”

…

One of the next steps for the wedding is the clothes themselves. For Cobb it means he’s getting a robe made for himself. White, flowing fabric with a fancy gold trim around the hems. It’s a standard piece of Tatooine marriages, and Din feels himself sort of bereft that he doesn’t have something similar.

So he plans a visit to Boba’s because they have a shared lineage, and Din can’t exactly walk up to where his old tribe is and ask, “Can any of you help me dress for my wedding? Even though you see me as dar’manda and probably wouldn’t accept my marriage to an outsider?”

Best not to think of it.

He rides with Cobb to the palace, but Cobb isn’t planning on staying.

“I got business in town,” he says. “Might be a while. You okay staying here tonight?”

“Of course.”

“’kay. Kiss.”

He tilts up for Din to lean down and kiss him before waving him off. Then Din heads towards the palace and is let in by the guards.

It’s one of Boba’s work days, meaning he’s not seeing court, which means he’s pouring drinks for him, Fennec, and Din to enjoy. He always serves the strong stuff, which makes Din’s throat burn, but he’s getting used to it.

“So how is it anyway?” Boba asks, reclined on one of the sofa’s where Fennec can press her feet against his thigh.

“Going well,” Din says, keeping his eyes on the dark liquor in his glass. “The house is coming along.”

“You still haven’t told him yet?” Fennec asks.

Din shakes his head. “I want to keep it a surprise for him.”

“Sounds like you got it bad.”

“And you don’t?”

Fennec chuckles and Boba smiles amusedly.

“Fennec’s not exactly my queen here,” Boba says.

“That’s right. I’m an empress.”

“Still. A house sounds like a good idea. Putting down roots. Settling in.”

“It’s about time,” Din says, taking a sip. He smacks his lips. “But it’s getting close to the day and . . . the seamstress offered to tailor me something, but I was hoping for something more—”

“Familiar?” Boba offers. Din nods.

“I think you can help with that,” Fennec says. “Despite what he might say, Boba’s become a real fashion snob.”

“It’s not fashion when you have to wear it to impress people who won’t take you seriously otherwise. The battle armour doesn’t always work.”

“Sure,” she says. “We’ll go with that.”

“I’ll see what I got.”

They eventually move to Boba and Fennec’s shared private quarters where Din can examine the clothing in front of a mirror.

“If you’re looking for something more Mandalorian,” Boba says from within his closet. “I’d suggest the lavalava. Especially if you’re aiming for tradition.”

“Bring out the blue one if you have it,” Fennec says.

Boba returns holding what Din first sees as a skirt, but recognizes the design of it when he was first living in the Fighting Corps’ barracks as a child. It’s meant to be a more formal piece of Mandalorian wear for more casual settings if one didn’t want to dress up in full battle armour. It’s meant to just sit on the hips.

Boba gets him to try it on right there. “You’d probably just wear a light pair of leggings underneath,” he says.

“Oh, and then,” Fennec says, rising to her feet and entering the closet. She returns with a lighter blue cloak and a red sash. “Tie it off with this sash here.” She wraps it around his waist. “And then the cloak like this.” She lets it sit on one shoulder and brings the two ends together to pin at his other shoulder. “You know, I might have a broach that could fit this. Din, hold this for me. I’ll be right back.”

He does as he’s told and looks at himself in the mirror.

“Not bad,” Boba says. “Colour suits you.”

Din turns a bit to admire himself in the mirror. He looks at Boba in the reflection and asks, with his stomach fluttering, “Have you spoken to the clan?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Last week I think.”

Din hums.

“They’ve settled in just fine. Getting along with the Tuskens just fine, but seems like they got more in common than they do the settlers.”

Din nods. “I had a feeling they would.”

“Have you . . .”

“Not since they relocated.”

Boba hums.

“Here we go,” Fennec says, coming back into the room with a silver brooch—in the shape of a Mythosaur skull.

“I didn’t know you had that, cyar,” Boba says.

“It was a gift from a long time ago. Guy who gave it to me certainly wasn’t Mandalorian, but I think it’s best to return it to someone it should actually belong to.” She fixes the brooch to the cloak and then turns Din to face the mirror directly. “There. Now you look ready to get married.”

Din runs his fingers through his hair. He might want to get it cut before the wedding, but he knows Cobb likes it when it’s longer and it holds its waves more. He should at least shave. The uneven scruff on his jaw isn’t all that appealing to himself.

“Stars, it’s going to be a mad house on the day of,” Boba says. “Seems like we’ll have to bring the good stuff, Fennec.”

“You’re telling me.”

…

In the days leading up to the wedding, Din sees to the final touches of the house, ensuring the furniture is in place with room for more when they make the final move. He plans on surprising Cobb that day.

They have a good celebration the night before at the cantina, drinks on the house, and then, in Tatooine fashion, the couple are separated the night before. Din is headed off by Boba and Fennec to Din’s new house, and Cobb is dragged away by his deputy Jo to his house.

“Rest up, vod,” Boba says. “You got a long day ahead of you.”

The next morning, Fennec helps him get ready for the day, making sure his hair is just right, and the cloak is sitting on his shoulders just so. Boba is there in his armour, and Din feels a sour note in his stomach that he’s not wearing any of his. He wouldn’t feel right after his expulsion from the clan.

“You still want the Mandalorian vows?” Boba asks.

Din nods. “If you can.”

“I’d be honored, vod.”

And then he’s led out with his friends on either side of him down the main street with everyone and then some—Tuskens, out of town friends, some of Boba’s closer associates—have come out in full force down the street as it’s been fully decorated for the day.

The ceremony itself is held at one end of the town where an arch of bone from bantha horns has been carved as a gift from the Tuskens. And that’s when Din sees him—Cobb, dressed in white with gold trim and with the hood up over his head, a red sash at his waist as if to match Din’s without even knowing. His back remains turned as Din walks up the aisle towards the arch and then he’s standing next to Cobb, shoulder to shoulder, with Cobb’s lifelong friend and impromptu wedding officiator Issa-Or standing before them. Din keeps his eyes forward for now, waiting for the right moment to face his soon-to-be husband head on.

“Now, I know ya’ll have come out and taken time off of your busy schedules,” Issa-Or says. “And we don’t have much time to dilly-dally like they did in the nicer districts in Mos Eisley and the rest. Time wasn’t a luxury for people like us, so we had to make do. Which is why we’re here to see that Cobb Vanth, Marshal here in Mos Pelgo, spends the rest of his days married to none other than a Mandalorian! Someone he chose to let into his life, his home, and share the rest of his time in this mortal coil with.”

Din feels himself blushing, feels a smile breaking out over his face.

“Cobb?”

He sees Cobb lift his head.

“Why don’t you take a look at your man?”

He feels Cobb reach for his hand and Din gently turns with a little prodding. And as he turns, he sees Cobb pushing back his hood, and Din feels as if he could cry at the sight of him.

He sees Cobb’s lower lip tremble before he smiles, as bright as Tatooine’s suns themselves. “Din.” Cobb lifts Din’s hand and holds it between both of his own. Then Cobb laughs despite himself. “First time I’ve been without words in a while.”

There are a few laughs among the crowd.

“Darling, my love. First day I laid eyes on you, I knew I couldn’t let you go. And I am a richer man for having you. Even if I don’t got much but my name and my reputation and the good will of the people before us, I hope to give you everything you could ever need.” Then he raises Din’s hand and kisses the back of it tenderly.

“At this point, we’d say a done deal and have a feast,” Issa-Or says. “But as it is, Din is a Mandalorian, and we want to respect that part of him, so he comes with his own vows.”

She steps aside to let Boba come up.

“If you’ll both repeat after me,” he says. “We are one together.”

“Mhi solus tome,” Din says, quietly, only enough for Cobb and Boba to really hear.

He watches Cobb smiles, the pink curl of his tongue before he’s repeating in Basic. “We are one together.

“We are one when parted.”

“Mhi solus dhar’tome.”

“We are one when parted.”

“We share all.”

“Mhi me’dinui an.”

“We share all.”

“We shall raise warriors.”

“Mhi ba’juri verde.”

“We shall raise warriors.”

“Oya, vod,” Boba mutters.

And Din finds himself feeling bashful, and that’s when Cobb pulls him closer by his hands.

“Now I consider that we’re well and truly hitched now,” he says, and Din rushes in to cup his face and kiss his riduur in front of an adoring and loving crowd.

…

The rest of the day is pretty much a blur of being at Cobb’s side, being dragged away from Cobb, of Cobb being dragged away from him. Dance until his feet ache and he’s dizzy. More food than he’s used to. More drinks than he can tolerate, and falling asleep in a tent when he’s imbued too much with a pink cheeked Cobb next to him.

A few hours of sleep later and they’re back at it again for a more restful filled breakfast and relaxed conversation before finally, the festivities are over and people begin to head back to their business.

“Do you want to go home?” Din asks.

Cobb stretches and yawns, looking exhausted but content with his station in life. “You have read my mind.”

They walk down the street together, their clothes in a state of disarray before Din is leading him elsewhere.

“Babe, where . . .” Then it dawns on him and Din can’t help but smile. “No,” he says.

Din nods. “Come on. Let me show you to our home.”

Cobb is speechless when they enter the new partially buried house. He’s taken by how large it is, how high the ceilings are now, and how cool and inviting it is. Then he rushes forward to kiss Din and hold him close. “Oh, you are full of surprises.”

“Jo told me it’s a custom.”

“Well, not always a custom, but we pride ourselves on being able to provide.”

“Then let me provide for you.”

They kiss again, deeper this time until Cobb pulls back to rest their foreheads together. “Mm. As much as I’d like to christen this place, I’m bushwhacked.” Then he’s pulling Din into the bedroom where they collapse onto the bed as husbands, as riduurs.

…

“Hey, Din. You awake?”

Din stretches out on the bed and opens weary eyes to find Cobb kneeling on the ground next to the bed.

“What time’s it?” he asks.

“Afternoon-ish. Just went out to get some things from the old place, and, um, I guess now is as good a time as any to give this to you.” He sets a bundle of cloth knotted off with string on the bed before Din, and Din rises up on one elbow to look at it.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Din says, tugging at the strings.

“Yeah, well.” Cobb rubs the back of his neck, a nervous tic of his. “I felt like I had to for this one.”

In the cloth is an ornate dagger with its own leather sheath. When Din pulls the blade, he’s mesmerized with how the blade shimmers. A single piece that looks like it’s been carved from onyx.

“Cobb, I—” Then he sees the mark in the hilt of it.

The mark of his tribe. The Mythosaur skull. On the other side is the mark of the mudhorn.

He looks up to Cobb. “Where did you get this?”

“Well, I, I went to your clan.”

Din breathes out and sits up in full with the dagger in his lap. Cobb comes to sit on the edge of the bed.

“When you told me about your customs, and seeing your armour just sitting in our wardrobe for months, I wanted, I wanted to confront your clan. I know things are rocky between you and them, but I went in there to just speak with them at first. Then next thing I know, I’m sitting on the ground drinking tea with your matriarch.”

Din closes his eyes for a moment.

“And I don’t tell her everything, I don’t ream her out or nothing. I know you hold her in high regard. But I told her I was intending on marrying you and I wanted to do it right by you. No one else. So, she said she’d show me how to make something. And each time I visited, she’d ask about you and I’d tell her that, oh, you were a guest speaker in the school today, or you had fixed the power generators. And she’d tell me my smithy skills were shit and tell me to begin again.”

Din laughs. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”

“Then she asked me why I wanted to marry you. And I told her I wanted to spend the rest of my days making you happy, giving you everything you could ever need. And she said, he deserves it.”

He lifts his head to look at Cobb. “She said that?”

Cobb nods. “I think she misses you. She won’t say it, but she does. I think it’s just taking some time for her and some of the others to come around to this new world order of theirs. But next time I go, I want you to come with me.”

Din nods. “Yes. Yes, I’d love that. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He kisses Cobb several times and holds him close with the knife on the bed spread next to him.

They don’t plan the trip out to Din’s clan for some weeks yet. They have a house to settle into after all. But then one day, they’re setting out on Cobb’s speeder. This time Din is wearing his armour with the knife at his hip. And this time they are facing Din’s clan together as one.

[the-last-kenobi]

Oh for the bad things happen bingo, could you do 'passing out from the pain' with hurt Obi-Wan and the 212th being like 'this is unacceptable let us help you for the sake of our sanity Please'. Good luck with moving!

Thanks willow! 🤍 I hope this fulfills expectations!

General Kenobi had several policies that his men disagreed with. Strongly, fiercely disagreed with.

Unfortunately, all these policies were personal and were applied only to himself, meaning that the 212th had little means of having them changed.

Hoop, the Chief Medic, particularly hated his General’s insistence on handling all negotiations or Council briefings after a battle before he went to the medbay.

“If it’s bad enough that you need to see me straight away, you’ll be carrying me on a stretcher anyway,” the Jedi had said. Hoop sincerely hoped this was a jest. But so far, Kenobi seemed to return from every battle in either one way or the other — beaten and battered from leading the front line but capable of walking and talking, or on the brink of death on a stretcher.

How the man had managed to walk away from Kadavo with the injuries he had — Hoop wanted to punch a wall every time he thought of it.

The man should have been unconscious. He should have had lasting, permanent damage. He should have been on drugs for two weeks.

Instead he strolled alone into the medbay a full rotation after the rescue, still wearing his ruined tunics, every visible inch of him bruised or swelling or bleeding, his rib cage just a little too prominent through his undershirt. “I’m fine, Hoop,” he said, sounding vaguely amused. “I’ve held myself together this long, haven’t I?”

And he had.

But nothing lasts forever.

Not even the infamously stubborn Master of an infamously stubborn Padawan and Grandpadawan, the former protege of another infamously stubborn maverick.

Cody was aggressively trailing after his General like an overprotective guard dog, his lips curled in a snarl beneath his helmet. “Sir,” he said for the dozenth time.

“Never mind, Cody,” Obi-Wan said dismissively, waving an airy hand as he glanced over his shoulder at his Commander. “It will keep.”

“Sir,” Cody said more insistently.

“Cody,” Obi-Wan said, smiling.

They both knew there was no overriding the General, not when he was capable of thought and speech. Still, the Marshal Commander had to try. “Sir, it’s been two days.”

“And I’ve yet to collapse,” Kenobi pointed out blithely, now opening the doors to the bridge of the Negotiator. “If I had been injured on Tameris, then I’m sure we’d all know it by now.”

“Sure,” muttered Cody.

Obi-Wan turned his head again to face forwards, but as soon as he crossed the threshold into the bridge he was accosted by his Chief Medic.

“Sir, you didn’t report for detox,” Hoop said firmly.

General Kenobi sighed. “It appears I’ve come across a plot against me. I never would have expected my own troops to turn on me.” With a gentle tap on the shoulder he bypassed Hoop, who joined Cody in trailing the Jedi closely.

“General, everyone has to undergo the detox,” Hoop said angrily. “Not just the men. The officers too. Every species that was down on Tameris during the explosion—”

“I understand that,” General Kenobi said. He kept walking away, striding towards a group of officers gathered next to a holo projector, studying a slowly rotating map and arguing in low tones.

“I don’t think you do,” snapped Cody. He bit his tongue immediately, cursing his loss of temper. His General didn’t seem disturbed, however.

“I do,” General Kenobi said, and he stopped walking and turned to face them, causing both clones to stumble abruptly to a halt. “I do,” he repeated earnestly. “But so many of the men were caught in that radius, so many of the officers on the ground. I’m having a hard enough time trying to hold things together as it is; what happens if I step aside to be checked over and treated for days at a time while the Separatists close in?”

“I could do it,” Cody swore. “I’ve already been detoxed. I can take care of everything.”

“No,” Obi-Wan shook his head. His expression was unbearably fond as he stared at them both. “The structure is in shambles. The only reason we’re not on standby in need of assistance is because my rank and knowledge shared between the Senate and the Council permits me to make executive decisions. If I surrender my position to be treated…” he shook his head. “We can’t afford the chaos that would cause to our already fractured chain of command.”

He smiled and walked away as if the discussion had never taken place.

Around them, the bridge continued busy, the people present frantic and scrambling just as the General had said. Understaffed, uncoordinated, held together by determination. By the General.

Hoop swore colorfully and stormed from the bridge. Cody turned back to watch his General, a cold determination of his own creeping over him. He snagged a passing lieutenant and leveled him with a stern glare. “I’m setting up a rotation to have the General monitored at all times. He’s under extreme stress and he’s in danger of succumbing to possible illness. Understand?”

The lieutenant nodded. He did understand. With a discreet salute he stepped away, off to spread the word as quietly as he could.

-

Of course, Obi-Wan noticed that his men were suddenly watching him so intently.

No matter where he went, or how quickly, or how late he stayed up, there was always at least one brother standing nearby, close enough to catch him if he fell.

It was irritating and endearing. “Cody,” he began, his voice heavy with regret and reprimand.

“Sorry, sir, I’ve suddenly gone deaf,” the Commander said with a straight face.

Obi-Wan stated. “Excuse me?”

Cody didn’t even blink.

“What if I wanted to talk about the Chommel Sector instead?” Obi-Wan tried. Cody nodded and stepped forward, leaning over the desk the General was standing over to peer at the information spread out before them.

“And if I wanted to talk about the men followi—” Cody stepped away again, dropping his bucket back over his head.

“Sorry, sir. Deaf.” Cody said loudly.

Obi-Wan sighed long-sufferingly, although the corners of his mouth did twitch upwards, part of him touched by his men’s protective nature, touched enough to perhaps forgive the insubordination.

-

They were a week out from the disaster on Tameris when the General’s luck — or will of iron — finally failed him.

He was halfway through a holo transmission with the available Council, meaning that Mace Windu, Yoda, Shaak Ti, and Plo Koon were all watching when Obi-Wan dropped like a discarded droid part.

It happened so quickly that not even Cody, hovering a respectful three feet behind, was able to reach him in time. One second General Kenobi was staring up at Windu, nodding solemnly as the other man derailed their plans for the Chommel Sector, and the next second he was on the ground, his head striking the console and then the floor.

“No!” Cody screamed. He forgot about the Council, about the others in the room, and dove forwards, quickly removing his gloves so that he could search gently for injuries. And a pulse.

“Commander Cody!” Windu shouted, his voice full of concern.

“He’s breathing,” Cody said shakily, and he turned the General over ever so gently, nervous of aggravating the damage. “But his head… he…”

There was blood everywhere. Head wounds bled profusely, but there was already bruising forming around the places where the red-haired Jedi’s forehead and cheek had collided so sharply with the console and then the floor. His breathing was shallow, and his cheeks overly flushed on his pale face.

“He’s weak,” Shaak Ti said softly. Her image wavered. “He’s been weak for awhile. I can feel it, now.”

“We all can,” said Plo Koon. “Commander Cody.”

“Hoop!” Cody screamed over his shoulder. He pulled the General into his arms, cradling the broken head, the tired shoulders. “Someone get a medic in here!”

“Commander Cody,” Mace Windu said.

“Help is on the way,” Cody said, and he tilted his head far back to look into the holo-blue eyes of the Jedi. “Should I bring him back to the Temple? We can be there in four days.”

“Commander Cody,” Yoda said. Cody turned his eyes to the diminutive, ancient Master, pleading.

Yoda looked back at him, leaning heavily on his wooden staff. “Let him go, you must,” he said softly. “Too far gone, is he.”

“No,” Cody said. The word was defiant, but his tone wavered, wobbly and confused, like a frightened child woken suddenly in the night. Nothing made sense. He wanted to go back. “No, he’s just ill—”

“Sickness, there is,” Yoda murmured. “And strain. He will not survive the fever. Possibilities there are — hope, always hope. But very little. Overextended himself, has Obi-Wan.”

“No,” Cody said again, but this time there was not even the ghost of defiance in his voice. Just despair. “No.”

He curled around the General and held him tightly, even as Obi-Wan’s breath began to fade.

“He said— he said he had to—I shouldn’t have listened to him!” Cody screamed out between hitched sobs.

“You did what he asked,” Windu’s voice drifted to him through the ringing in his ears. “You trusted his judgement in a time of crisis. There was nothing else anyone would have asked of you. Come back to the Temple. Bring him home, no matter what happens.”

“I would have asked more!” Cody shouted, and he lifted his head from Obi-Wan to stare up at the other Jedi, his face twisted with rage and with tears. “I should have! I should have — I failed him. I failed my Jedi,” he said in disbelief, and Obi-Wan’s limp form trembled in his arms as his shoulders began to shake with wracking sobs. “I failed my Jedi.”

The Council was speaking, the other men were speaking, but Cody wasn’t listening.

He dropped his forehead to rest against Obi-Wan’s and waited.

Hoop burst through the door, furious and panicked.

The ship began to turn as they plotted their route back to Coruscant.

Obi-Wan’s breathing faltered.

fin.

[rowansparrow]

By Any Other Name: Chapter Seven

Summary: You and Rex have a conversation on the rooftop.

Chapter Rating: Teen 

Warnings: Alcohol, some drunk-ness. Sad, so very sad.

Ships: Rex x Female!Reader, Fives x Female!Reader, Clone OC x Female!Reader, other ships tbd.

Tags: #ByAnyOtherName, #BAON

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: *insert that Always Sunny in Philadelphia Meme: “NEWSFLASH ASSHOLE, REX HAS BEEN IN LOVE WITH READER THE ENTIRE GODDAMN TIME* As always, bless @fat-zygerrian for being my beta reader!

Comment if you want to be tagged! Reblogs are SO appreciated!

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six

You were supposed to meet him that night.

You’d planned on going to 79’s instead of the rooftop as usual. Rose said the boys had missed you and wanted to play cards again. You’d gotten all dolled up and were about to head out when your comm beeped.

“Hey,” You grinned, shutting your apartment door behind you. “I was just heading out.”

“Yeah… about that,” Rose sounded embarrassed. “There’s been a change in plans. I won’t be able to make it. In fact, none of us will. We got – err – held up on base.”

“Really?” You asked, pausing as you started to head down to the main level of your building. “Okay… well can we meet after?”

“I’m not supposed to go off base but – yeah, yeah I’ll see what I can do. Keep your comm close.”

He hung up and you hesitated in the stairwell for a beat. Fuck it. Even if Rose couldn’t come along, you were still going to have a nice time tonight!

You had gotten more confident about going to 79’s ever since you and Rose had gotten close. You could recognize a few distinct faces now, just from people Rose had pointed out to you or introduced to you in passing. There was a notable absence of 501st blue, which at least confirmed Rose wasn’t just ditching you and had in fact gotten held up at the base with the rest of his battalion.

You approached the bar, settling in and glancing around to look for any familiar faces to keep you company while you waited for Rose. Further down the bar, you spotted Marshal Commander Cody and your breath hitched for just a moment. Rose had told you all about him – the most highly decorated clone soldier in the entire Republic Army. You would’ve been able to guess it even if Rose hadn’t told you about the curved scar on the side of his face. For the way Cody carried himself, even here, held an air of authority, of gravitas and poise.

He was talking to someone, the other person obscured by his own body. You ordered a drink, trying not to look as starstruck by the Commander as you felt.

“I’d try your luck with someone a little less ranked if I were you,” The bartender teased, catching you staring. “I’ve never once seen the Marshal Commander take up an offer to go home with somebody.”

“That’s – that isn’t my intention.” You blushed, taking the drink with a short huff. Still, you glanced at Cody again and watched him clap his hand on the shoulder of the man he’d been speaking with.

“Alright, see you around, Rex ‘ole boy. Stay out of trouble.”

Now that made you turn instantly. As Cody moved away, you were able to get a better look at the man he’d been talking to, and gods above, it was him. It was Captain Rex. Rose had told you so many stories about him that it felt strange finally seeing him in the flesh.

Rose had warned you about how much trouble you both could get in if anyone ever found out you were seeing each other. Your friendship was frowned upon enough as is, but now that it had become something more, Rose had given you the full dressing-down on what could happen to him if you were ever caught.

As such, you hadn’t ever met Rose’s superior officer, and since Rose wasn’t here…

You downed the rest of your drink quickly. There’s no reason the Captain would be suspicious of you. Besides, you wanted to meet him, get to know the man who was such a huge part of Rose’s life.

You wanted to meet his family.

“Hi.”

In truth, maybe your introduction could’ve been a little stronger. But as you sidled over to the Captain and leaned one hand on the bar, he gave you a small smile, nodding once.

“Ma’am.”

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Rex seemed surprised and looked you over carefully. He seemed to be waging a war with himself for a split second but eventually nodded.

“I don’t see why not.”

You grinned, settling into the seat beside him and waving the bartender over, tucking a hand under your chin. “What’s your name? I’m Y/N.”

“Rex.” He replied, offering his hand to shake. You repressed the urge to giggle. He was such a gentleman.

“What do you drink, Rex?”

He chuckled. “Whiskey.”

“Two of those, then.” You told the bartender. Rex’s eyebrow jumped up but you barely noticed.

“So. You must be a Captain, right? With all this fancy gear?” You said, motioning to his pauldron and kama.

“How d’you know I’m not just some ARC trooper who likes showing off?” Rex replied, smirking and leaning forward a bit.

“I’ve met an ARC trooper or two, and you don’t seem the type to boast.”

Rex chuckled again, taking his glass as the bartender returned. “You must get around, then.”

It wasn’t an insult and you didn’t take it as such. “Maybe I’m just good at making friends.”

Rex smiled and his eyes seemed to appraise you for a moment, taking all of you in, calculating. He took a swig.

“You here with any of those friends?” He asked.

“All alone, tonight.” You replied. “My friends got held up and you looked lonely. Thought I’d keep you company. It’s the least I can do for a soldier like you.”

Rex chuckled, low and sweet. “Most pretty girls don’t just find themselves in 79’s.” Rex drawled, setting his glass down again. “From what I can tell, they’re usually looking for trouble.”

He turned slightly to face you better. “Are you looking for trouble, mesh’la?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You knew that word, but didn’t know what it meant. Rose had called you that before.

“It looks like I already found it.” You replied.

Rex grinned. “Then I guess you better stay close so I can keep a proper eye on you.”

You chuckled, picking up your own drink and finally taking a sip. The whiskey burned your throat but it warmed you to the core. Rex looked impressed which was its own bonus.

“You never answered my question.” You said. “Are you a Captain?”

“I command the 501st attack battalion.” Rex said, a note of pride in his voice.

“Ah, then you must know Echo and Fives.” You prompted.

Rex seemed to age ten years at just the mention of their names. “I take it those are the ARC troopers you’ve met?” He asked. “My condolences.”

You giggled. “We played cards a few times. They’re nice but definitely a handful.”

“They’re all a handful.” Rex waved over the bartender to get another drink. “Every last one of them. That’s why none of them were allowed off base tonight.”

“Oh?” You grinned. “Do tell.”

Once he got going talking about his men, he couldn’t stop. Rex regaled you with the story of how earlier that afternoon he’d discovered his men were not only hiding a loth cat in the barracks, but it had given birth. They had managed to keep it a secret for weeks until the kittens started wreaking havoc. According to his men, Fives and Hardcase had been the ringleaders.

“That’s what they all say at least.” Rex amended. “’Course, Fives’ll take credit for just about anything. But Rose and Echo were suspiciously quiet the whole time. Kix was the only one with the good sense not to show his face in the barracks when I caught them. Still, I’ve got a feeling he encouraged the others to go along with it. Di’kuts, all of them.”

He shook his head but smiled as you laughed. “Anyway. They’re cleaning up the mess and finding natborns to rehome all the kits with. And when they finish with that, they’re supposed to take over the latrine shifts and canteen shifts for any other battalions.”

“Aw, seems a steep punishment for hiding loth cats.” You laughed.

“You didn’t see the state of the barracks.” Rex said, shaking his head slowly. “Apparently a bucket of paint got upended. They should all be scrubbing paw prints out of the durasteel right about now.”

You smiled fondly at Rex. Even as he retold the story, you could tell he was trying not to smile at the antics. It was clear he cared very deeply for his men, even if he had to be the tired parent of them all.

“Sounds like they wear you out.” You teased. “You deserve a break.”

“Are you offering me one?” Rex prompted.

You tilted your head to the side. “What do you mean?”

Rex smirked, and downed the rest of his drink. He took a deep breath, as though he was steeling himself to ask you something.

“Y/N!”

You recognized the voice and turned quickly as Rose hurried up to you. He had a small streak of blue paint across his cheek, but otherwise was beaming.

“Hey, you should’ve told me you’d be here. I went all the way to your apartment and had to backtrack -.”

He noticed the Captain a beat too late and you watched as all the color comically drained from his face. “Captain! Sir!” He snapped to attention. “I ah – I can explain…”

You glanced between Rose and Rex, your own heart pounding. Rose had all but given away the two of you were seeing each other. Rex looked at Rose before looking at you. He then turned to his glass, picking it up and making a big scene of looking it over.

“Sir…?” Rose asked nervously.

“Oh, I’m just inspecting my beverage.” Rex replied smoothly. “I must’ve been drugged you see, because surely I am not seeing my Lieutenant standing here, not when he is under strict orders to stay on base tonight.”

Rose cringed. “Yeah, sir, about that -.”

“It’s my fault.” You spoke up quickly, throwing together a lie. “Rose and I met yesterday, we’d been playing Sabacc with some of his brothers and he very kindly walked me home afterwards. I promised him drinks tonight to thank him and I wouldn’t take no for an answer.” You glanced to Rose. “He was just being a gentleman.”

Rex raised an eyebrow, glancing at Rose. “Funny.” He said. “Could’ve sworn I saw you in the weight room with Fives last night.”

“We… came here afterwards sir.” Rose lied, shifting a little closer to you, almost protective. “Ask him, he’ll say the same thing.”

“I’m sure he will.” Rex stood, picking his helmet up off the counter and knocked his knuckles lightly against the bar. “It was lovely to meet you, ma’am.” He said. “Rose?”

Your soldier stood at attention once again but Rex just put a hand on his shoulder.

“We have a briefing tomorrow morning. Oh-eight-hundred. Don’t be late.”

“Thank you, sir.” Rose was barely audible over the roar of the music in the bar. He looked like his knees would give out at any moment.

You could’ve sworn you saw Rex give Rose a little wink, but it must’ve been a trick of the light. He gave you one last nod before quietly departing.

Neither you nor Rose saw him glance back at you over his shoulder one last time before stepping out of the bar.

~

You’d lost track of how long you sat on the roof with Rex. Partially because he’d gone downstairs and returned with a bottle of your favorite whiskey and two glasses, pouring drinks for you both.

“For Rose,” Rex toasted, clinking your glasses together.

You smiled and for the first time that you could remember, Rose’s name didn’t make your heart ache. “For Rose.”

You both tossed the glasses back, that familiar burn searing your throat and chest before you shook yourself out, watching as Rex poured you both a second glass, entirely unfazed.

“He was very unsubtle about sneaking off base to go see you.” Rex told you, leaning back on one hand and closing his eyes as the breeze kissed his cheeks. “I’d give him a job and it would either be done in record time or it would’ve been passed off to somebody else. He once almost missed a debriefing because he’d spent the night with you. Skidded in right as I was about to start.” He chuckled. “I didn’t mind. He was happy. Gods know we soldiers deserve whatever happiness we can find.”

You hummed, smiling as you took another drink. “He talked about you all the time.” You said, leaning slightly against Rex’s side. “Idolized you, actually. He told me about the battles you’d been in together, how well you led your men.” You smiled to yourself, finishing your second drink and making your way towards a third. “He told me about that virus. Blue Shadow Virus, right?”

Rex hummed, getting himself another drink as well. “That was an ugly mission.”

“He said you were hovering a lot.” You teased. “Because he was always so sick when he was little. You were worried about him.”

“Brothers were dropping dead, left and right. Hells, even Commander Tano passed out at one point.” Rex recalled, shuddering to himself. “I thought we were all going to die.”

“He told me he wasn’t scared because you weren’t scared.” You smiled. “I guess you did a good job of hiding it.”

“He had way too many close calls.” Rex chuckled. “That virus almost took him out. We got rescued just in time. There was another time he was scouting with me and a few others on Saleucami -.”

“I remember that. You were shot.” You recalled and Rex chuckled.

“He really did tell you everything, didn’t he?”

“He was terrified. He told me he thought you were dead, the way you flew off the back of the speeder after getting hit..” You murmured.

“What he probably didn’t tell you is that shot just barely missed him.” Rex replied. “I’d been leading but he’d circled around me to get in front. He was goofing around with Hardcase. Bolt whizzed just an inch past his head and hit me instead. He had a blaster burn on the side of his helmet to prove it.”

You shuddered at the thought. “He didn’t tell me that part.”

“Probably also didn’t tell you that he got shot pretty good on Toydaria.” Rex replied. “Not once, but twice, once in the leg and another straight through the chest. Kix thought for sure he was a goner.”

You were familiar with those wounds. A frown pulled your lips. “He didn’t tell me. I had to find them myself.” You grumbled, still bitter. “He’d come back from the mission and told me he’d gotten hurt, but it was nothing serious.” You threw back your drink again. “Bantha shit, if I brushed against him, he winced. Finally made him show me.”

“I’m sure he got an earful after that.” Rex laughed.

“Oh, he did. And he wasn’t even that bothered that he’d nearly died, no, he was more concerned about the fact that his tattoos had been damaged by the shots. He was worried he wouldn’t be able to get new ink over the scars.” You rolled your eyes. “That man…”

“He was just trying not to worry you.” Rex smiled, taking another drink.

“I always worry.” You murmured, rubbing your thumb along the rim of your glass. “Always. About all of you. I always worried that one day Rose would come home and tell me something had happened to Fives, Echo, you… or any of the others.” You chuckled humorlessly, finishing your drink. “And then… one day you showed up at my door instead.”

A heavy silence fell between you. Rex took your empty glass, filling it up once again.

“It seems so silly.” You said. “That he should survive all of that and then just get shot and killed during a routine supply drop. I thought he was unbreakable.” You shook your head. “Guess I was wrong.”

Rex wouldn’t look you in the eye, instead focusing very intently on the glass in his hands.

“It was quick.” Rex said finally, still avoiding your eyes. “He didn’t feel anything. I promise.”

“I know.” You gave him a small, sad smile, squeezing his bicep gently. “And I guess I have that at least. At least… at least I know he didn’t suffer. He wasn’t alone or – or afraid.”

You smiled wistfully, looking out over the skyline.

“There’s a dress in my closet,” You began. “It’s nothing fancy, just a white sundress with lace around the hem and sleeves.”

Rex already seemed to know where this was going. He took a very long drink and followed your gaze out towards the skyline.

“We were going to leave together.” You said quietly. “Get married. Have a family. He had this whole, crazy plan.” You chuckled. “I’d told him I wanted to think about it. It was a big decision, he’d be on the run for the rest of his life, hiding from the Republic. And I’d be part of that.”

You glanced over at Rex. “He told me he was going to tell you. He said we could trust you. Did he ever…?”

Rex shook his head. “No. He never got the chance.”

You nodded, turning back towards the sky. “I was going to say yes.” You whispered. “I was going to go with him when he came back. We were going to run away together… It was all very romantic.” You shook your head, staring down at your glass. “And it was so stupid.”

Rex was quiet for several long moments until finally he rose to his feet, offering you his hand.

“C’mon.” he murmured. “I think that’s enough drinking for one night. Let’s get you home.”

You nodded, taking his hand and letting him pull you to your feet. You swayed. You didn’t realize how much you’d had to drink until you stumbled, falling slightly against his chest.

“The Rose Lounge owner can’t hold her liquor?” Rex teased. “Ironic.”

“Shuddup.” You mumbled, giving him a little shove. “I can walk.”

“Oh no you can’t, Tipsy. C’mere.” He crouched down slightly, and you slumped against his back. He picked you up with ease, bouncing you once to hike you higher up his back. He wrapped his arms around your legs, holding them snug against his torso while your hands wrapped around his shoulders.

“Don’t puke on me.” Rex warned, carrying you piggyback style towards the stairs.

“’M gonna fall off.” You muttered.

“No you won’t. Trust me.”

Your eyes were heavy, cheek pressed against the back of Rex’s neck and you remembered a time very long ago when another man had carried you on his back to this rooftop, and said the very same thing.

“I trust you, Rose.”

Rex was still. You hadn’t noticed your slip, your eyes already slipping closed.

“Okay.” His voice echoed. “I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you.

~

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