#the reason there is no surviving moniker for him is because everyone later on assumed 'Mand'alor the Weaver' was a mistranslation

[bolithesenate]

fun fact of the morning is that to me Tarre Vizsla was a cringefail jedi twink so horribly bad at jedi-ing that he did an accidental 180 and became Mand'alor

man's could not find a lightsaber crystal for his goddamn life, so much so that a mandalorian deity had to come and help out

then he crashed in someones backyard destroying half their tuber harvest when he took a wrong turn after going home from a bandomeer agricorps summit

the shame is too big so he ditches everything and becomes a weaver for a like year

only after that year does he even realize he landed himself in karking mandalorian space (the weaver he holes up at is an old lady and doesn't wear armor so he just never noticed)

meanwhile everyone back at the temple just assumed he died

over his year as weaver-apprenticing he also did odd little jobs here and there around the village. mostly helping people with paperwork and taxes and how to price grain to sell the next city over

which gets him implicitly elected like mayor of that village (mostly because no one else wants to do the paperwork)

which is how he, a failed jedi that crashed in someones backyard and just wallowed in shame ever since somehow is made to attend a city/region council as representative of that village (it is there that he realizes that wtf that's too many mandalorians for this to just be coincidence. those CANNOT all be bodyguards) (yes he had stereotypes)

still, apparently he is one of them now

(he is standing there like 🧍🏻 the only one in the room without any armor to speak)

but also definitely the only one with a single political bone in him (it was forcibly installed in him by the temple's teachers). and also the knowledge of How To Do Taxes (that and he weaves a mean rug)

which once again gets him elected representative of that council as well

so now he has to go to a House meeting in a month

(which is bad, he has a deadline on a new tapestry that needs to be done by then can't they just postpone? also what is a House and why do they have meetings)

the lady weaver who kinda just is his adoptive mom now just laughs and pats him on the head and tells him he'll figure it out. but oh maybe he should wear some armor for that one, House meetings have a tendency to get wild and many things are settled over honor duels. and the city/region he's representing sure would like for their needs to be defended.

meanwhile Tarre is panicking because the one thing he was worse at at Jedi School than actually being a jedi was lightsabering

he's decent at hand-to-hand but that was NOT worth any points in the eyes of the Battlemaster

(turns out he shouldn't have worried. 'decent at hand-to-hand' for an old republic jedi still meant 'kriffing lethal' in comparison to everyone else.)

his region's demands have never been represented better

especially since he also does know the maths to make it work in the long run.

that gets him noticed by the like son or heir or whatever of the Head of the House, who promptly makes Tarre his right hand (Tarre agreed to it either while drunk -- he is a sad drunk and JEdi aRE SupPOseD To hELP aaaaaaaa -- and was guilttripped into it OR he misunderstood the assignment to be a weaving commission)

(because, in Tarre's mind, that IS still his day job)

and so on and so forth it spirals out of control farther and farther until one day he is there helping represent the mandalorian side in a trade dispute with the republic and the other side have jedi with them (ofc) and he is one again just doing his best statue impression trying not to be noticed only he forgot that mandalorians announce themselves and their whole allegiance and lineage in front of everyone so he gets first-name-last-named by his new boss in front of his old boss and it does horrors to his nerves that much is certain

only the jedi just kinda squint and then leave it uncommented so he thinks he's safe until HIS OLD MASTER JUST TELEPORTS STRAIGHT INTO THE DINNER ROOM DEMANDING TO KNOW WHY HE WASN'T THERE FOR THE LAST TWELVE LINEAGE DINNERS

[scope-dogg]

A while ago I was reading up on various fighter jets because I was obsessed with Ace Combat 7. The game’s story doesn’t get a lot of praise, but it actually has a nice eye for little details. I might have already spoke about this but I forget. If I did I don’t mind going on about it again because it’s a really clever detail that you’ll probably not really think about if you don’t know this one specific piece of trivia about two specific planes. For the first mission after you get reassigned to the 444th Penal squadron just after you get framed for killing Harling, the game gives you the Lockheed-F104C Starfighter and Mig-21 for free, whereas you have to pay using ingame money to unlock most of the other planes in the game. You’re technically free to use the F-16 you start the game with for this mission, or any of the other planes you’ve managed to unlock up until that point, but clearly it’s expected of you that you’ll use one of the two planes you’ve just been given for the next mission, and as a new player who wants to try out the new toys that the game has just given you, you probably will. It’s also the choice that makes the most sense narratively. AC7 is set in a world full of some of the most IRL powerful jets in the world, including 5th gen stealth fighters as well as it’s own set of super-powerful fictional concept jets, and both the Starfighter and the Mig-21 are ancient crap from the early stages of the Cold War. IRL the mig-21 had some early success in the Vietnam war when flown by the North Vietnamese but has otherwise had a pretty awful track record in combat. It’s still flown today in various places but only because it’s dirt cheap by jet fighter standards, and it’s basically cannon fodder for most modern fighters. The Starfighter was a Lockheed plane that was never really good enough for the US air force so it was mostly just a cheap export sold to various US allies who didn’t have the budget to make or buy anything better. It was fast by the standards of the time but that was more or less it. It’s another plane that’s hilariously obsolete now and I’m pretty sure there are no air forces still seriously flying it. In the context of the mission you’re about to fly, you’re a disgraced pilot who everyone believes just killed a national hero, who’s the new guy who’s just been assigned to the penal squadron. Your nation’s air force has taken heavy casualties in the opening act of the war, so it’s assumed that actual modern, functioning aircraft are at a premium, so you dirty criminals don’t get them. Instead, you get old, mothballed planes from previous wars, hastily rescued from the scrapyard, patched up and pressed into action. You’re the lowest of the low, being the only pilot disgraced enough to have three sin lines on the tail of his jet, so it makes sense for you to get the worst of the worst crap available.

However, there’s more to it than that. The beginning of the first mission of this chapter basically has you flying as meat shields for the phony airbase you’re stationed at. Your weapons are disabled and your job is to fly around and get shot at, doing just enough to make it look like the dummy base you’re stationed at is a real airfield (it becomes one later but that’s not the intent at first.) The base commander loses his nerve when the enemy actually starts bombing the base, leading to your weapons being authorised and you being tasked with shooting down all the enemy bombers. It then comes out in the radio chatter that there have been various bets made on who’ll survive this suicidal mission, and that a lot of money has been put on you in particular to buy the farm by various parties. Complete the mission objectives and Bandog, your asshole AWACS officer, remarks that you’re still alive, before asking the guy organising the bets as to what happens if you crash and die landing the plane. High Roller, the guy organising the gambling, replies that that would mean Bandog would win, meaning he’s one of the ones betting on you dying. Bandog replies “just checking,” implying that he probably already knew this and was just making sure. 

You then have to land the plane before the mission is counted as complete. Here’s where the brilliance is - both the Mig-21 and F-104C are flawed in differing ways, one being an American plane and the other being a Soviet one, except for one aspect which they share - their godawful safety record. The Indian airforce has historically been one of the biggest non-Soviet users of the Mig-21, and they’ve tragically lost hundreds of pilots in accidents involving this thing in crashes over the years. The F-104C gained the moniker “Widowmaker” in West Germany where it was most extensively used for similar reasons. And, as previously mentioned, the 444th aren’t stationed at a real airbase with a real paved landing strip, it’s just a strip of flat dirt that’s been painted over with black paint to fool enemy bombers. You also might have noticed at this time the planes that the other members of the squadron are flying. Count has an Su-33, which is the naval version of the Russian Flanker line, Champ has a Mig-29, and the rest are all piloting F-18 Hornets. The Su-33 and F-18 are carrier planes, whereas the Mig-29 was deliberately designed to take off from shorter and more rugged airfields, so all come with fairly robust landing gear to deal with rough landings. (The only exception to this rule is Tabloid’s Mirage-2000, and Tabloid’s the other one in Spare squadron that nobody really likes because of his weird political views.) So everyone else gets planes that are built to handle the kind of rough landing that you’re about to do, whereas you, who a bunch of people, including Bandog, a guy who probably has a lot of pull on the base, have put money on to die, are coming in flying one of two planes that are infamous for landing accidents, having been hastily resurrected from literal rusting junkpiles, on a makeshift runway that just so happens to have just been bombed. Of course, you successfully land the plane, because you’re a godly pilot, and Avril, the press-ganged engineer who fixed up your plane is a godly mechanic, and Bandog curses you out for losing him a bunch of money. It all still makes sense regardless because it would be a dangerous mission to do even if you were flying a better, more suitable plane, but it really makes sense so much more if you’re flying one of the planes that game clearly wants you to and you know those bits of extra trivia. It’s also kind of noteworthy that ingame the F-104C has an impressive top speed but the turning circle of an oil tanker, whereas the Mig is extremely maneuverable, but to such an excessive degree that it can be difficult to control. Both of these things increase your chance of having an accident that’d be very convenient for Bandog’s bank account, so it even comes across through the gameplay. Honestly, if I'd been working on this game I would have forced players to use one of these planes for their first attempt at the mission just because of how much extra it brings narratively.

[natasha-cole]

Hey Bartender Chapter 19: Right Where I Need To Be

Pairing: Bartender!Reader x Rock God!Rob

Chapter Summary: Time has passed since the night when Reader confessed her feelings to Rob, only to be shot down. She has let go of a lot of things; her old job, her old life, and Lola. There’s still one thing she can’t let go of though.

Word Count: 4502

Warnings: angst and maybe some fluff.

Notes: I think this might be the end folks. Thanks for reading and putting up with all the angst and curve-balls.

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7

Chapter 8  Chapter 9  Chapter 10  Chapter 11 Chapter 12  Chapter 13

Chapter 14  Chapter 15  Chapter 16  Chapter 17  Chapter 18

You didn't hear from Rob again. Not the following week, or the week after. The band hadn’t been playing at the bar and you learned from Bri that they were off touring again. They would be back though, and you began to wonder if you could even face Rob again. You had hurt him deeply, and he hated you enough to where he didn’t even believe anything that came out of your mouth. You had lied for so long, strung him along, and when it came time for you to finally confess all of your built up feelings; he didn’t believe you.

Kim had called you in for a meeting a couple of weeks after the entire disaster. You didn't know what it could be about, but you knew it wasn't good. The only time you met with her like this was when you were in trouble or on the verge of being fired.

“Lola, I've had some complaints come up about you.”

“From who?”

“I'm not going to specifically say, but one of the talent that plays here has come to me about some concerns.”

“Oh,” you said softly, knowing who she meant.

“I assume you know who.”

You nodded. You really didn't consider that he might complain about you to your boss. It was a shitty situation and he was obviously lashing out in the one way he knew how.

“He feels that you're unprofessional and that you interfere with the band's performances. I didn't ask for details, I don't care, we just need to fix this.”

“Are you firing me?”

“No. I just need to come to some sort of decision on what to do with you. Maybe we can see about changing your shifts.”

“So, I’ll be working the crap shifts?”

“I don’t know what else to do. Their residency is contracted.”

“I understand. I really do. This just- this all sucks.”

“I don’t know what happened,” Kim explained. “I’ve heard rumors going around. It just sounds like you got yourself into another really bad situation.”

“I did.”

“The last time you had a bad situation, you put yourself in danger and you put me in a bind.”

“I know.”

“What else can I do Lola?”

You thought hard about your options. You understood that it would be best to be placed on a different shift, so to avoid Rob. You didn’t want for him to have to see you regularly after everything you had done to him, and you didn’t want to put Kim in a bind again. She had been good to you. She had given you countless chances to work here, and all you ever did was let her down. All you ever seemed to do was let everyone down.

“I'm going to find another job,” you blurted out. You couldn’t deny that the thought had been in the back of your mind for a long time. Especially when it became too difficult to be around Rob.

“I'm not firing you.”

“I know. I just- I need to do something else.”

“You're good at what you do. I love having you here.”

“I'm not happy doing this anymore. I cause you nothing but trouble, and apparently, I'm bad for business.”

“I didn't say that.”

“You didn’t have to. I’m done letting people down. This- this isn’t for me anymore. I think it’s time for me to move on.”

“You’re going to go bartend somewhere else?”

“God no,” you chuckled, trying to hold back tears. “I’m over this. This job is the reason behind a lot of my problems.”

“You know,” Kim began, looking at you sympathetically, “you don’t have to give up what you’re good at just because a guy comes in here and messes up your life.”

“That’s just it, he didn’t mess up my life… I messed up his.”

“What can I do to keep you here?”

You smiled fondly at her, knowing that you were making the right decision. “Nothing.”

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” Briana whined as you busied yourself with clean up. It had been a few days since your talk with Kim and you both decided that you would finish out your week and move on. Tonight, you finally decided to tell Bri that it was your last night at the bar.

“I know,” you smiled, “you’re the only thing I’ll miss about this place.”

You heard Matt clear his throat from across the bar. You glanced over to him, chuckling. “I’ll miss you too.”

“This is so unfair,” Bri pouted, “want me to kick his ass? Because I will. I’ll do it for you.”

“If anyone deserves an ass-kicking, it’s me,” you laughed. “Besides, it’s better this way. It really is.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I got a job at a really fancy place close to here. I’ll be waitressing, which is weird. But, it will be good, I’ll be making more there than I was here. Kim gave me a great recommendation and they seem to like me.”

“Can’t get away from the customer service industry, huh?”

“You know, it’s all about the tip money.”

“Except now you can’t flash a little skin and hit on guys for that tip money.”

“It’s probably a good thing,” you chuckled, “this job has given me nothing but trouble. Trouble finds me and I just let it go on for too long.”

“I really thought he was different,” she replied, “I’m so sorry I encouraged that.”

“Don’t be sorry. He was different. He’s a good guy. I just realized it too late.”

“He was so horrible to you.”

“I think I brought that on myself. I was worse to him.”

You had already given Briana the details of that entire thing. You crashed at her place one night, the two of you sharing a bottle of wine or two, and you finally letting it all out. You had cried until you felt you had no more tears to cry. A part of you thought that by finally saying those words to him, he would be happy. You thought he would kiss you and hold you and the two of you could go on, trying to find a way to make it work together. You really didn’t expect things to go the way that they had.

“Love…” she trailed off, “ain’t it a bitch?”

“That it is,” you replied.

The two of you finished closing up for the night, Matt hanging out to wait for you. Just as you left the bar, locking the door behind you, you handed your key over to Matt.

“Well, I’ll see the two of you later,” you said with a smile. It was stupid, but your heart hurt over this new ending. You knew you’d see your friends still, but nothing was ever going to be the same. You had given this place, these people, and this life a lot of years.

“You’ll come see us, right?” Matt asked. “I mean, on non-performance nights, you can come hang out, have some drinks.”

“Maybe.”

You hugged them goodbye and you each headed off in your directions. You knew you’d never come back to this place. Not as long as you knew this was still Rob’s place. Not only did the band play here all the time, but the guys had made the bar their own regular spot. There had been many nights of drinking and laughter that you had all shared here, but in the end, it wasn’t yours anymore.

When you were here, you were Lola. You were the mysterious firecracker who took no shit from anyone. Who you were in this place was never who you wanted to be. You had only become her out of necessity; a means of survival and to have some sort of control over your out-of-control life. Your moniker wasn’t created for fun; Lola didn’t exist just to tease men and leave them wondering.

You had reached the point where your walls finally crumbled. Everything that you had built up in order to keep yourself safe eventually had to fall down. You just didn’t expect that to happen because of a man that you insisted was only there for fun. Maybe he didn’t know you, not really; and maybe you barely knew him. But, you and Rob had created something that you hadn’t expected. When it came to you staying adamant in the idea that you were incapable of love, you never expected anyone to come along and change you like that.

When you were at this bar, you were Lola. Your boss called you that, your friend Matt called you that, your best friend called you that. You expected customers to call you that because that was all you had ever given anyone who tried to get to know you. Rob had been different. Even when you kept up appearances, he never called you Lola. Not unless he was trying to get to you anyway. He was one of the very few people who knew your real name, and you liked to think he was the only person who knew the real you. You had been good at staying in character, but even you had to admit, there were moments when Rob managed to see a different side of you.

Your old life was over now; and therefore, perhaps Lola was gone as well.

“You’ve got a five top,” your hostess, Amy, said as she approached you.

You had been at the restaurant for a couple of weeks by now, and you were fitting in nicely. You liked the people you worked with, and while you had been nervous about it, you quickly learned that you were really good at the job. Perhaps all those years of taking complicated drink orders had helped out.

“Thanks,” you replied. You stepped out from the back, following Amy and she pointed over to the table that she had just seated. It took you a split second to get a view of the customers, and you stopped dead in your tracks when you did see them.

“I- I can’t take that table,” you muttered. You felt your heart begin to race, hands sweaty from nervousness now.

“You have to, you’re the only waitress on shift right now.”

You shook your head slowly, still studying the men who were seated and talking among themselves. Out of all the restaurants in L.A., of all the places they could hang out, it had to be here.”

“You don’t understand,” you whispered, pulling Amy aside quickly, hoping that they hadn’t spotted you. “I CAN’T take this table.”

“Well, I can’t waitress,” she hissed, “which is why I’m just a hostess.”

“Oh god…” you mumbled, suddenly feeling ill.

“What’s wrong? You know them?” Amy glanced back, checking the men out. “They’re cute.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“So, is one of them an ex-boyfriend or something?”

“Or something,” you replied.

“Look, Y/N,” Amy began calmly. She placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to help you relax. “Whatever it is, don’t let him get to you. You could just act like you don’t even recognize him.”

“I can’t do this.”

“Well, someone has to,” she laughed, “and it ain’t gonna be me.”

With that, she walked away, leaving you to fend for yourself. You considered running. Walking right out the back door just to avoid seeing him again. Then again, this was a pretty great job, and you weren’t about to let down your new boss. You thought about Amy’s suggestion, pretending that you didn’t know him. You knew that wouldn’t work. Even when you were fooling around with him, he never failed to elicit the feeling of butterflies in your stomach. The man always made you nervous and excited. You knew that even after all this time, he still would. You missed him terribly and you constantly berated yourself over how you had messed everything up with him. To top it all off, he looked so good right now as he sat at that table, talking and laughing with the rest of the band and Jason.

A smaller part of you wanted to approach him. You hadn’t seen or heard from him in so long and you almost desperately wanted to look into those blue eyes again, to see that amazing smile again.

You swallowed your pride and mustered the last bit of courage that you had. You had to do this, no one else would. Also, you really wanted to hear him speak to you again, even if he was the one to act as if he didn’t know you.

You approached the table, your notepad and pen in hand. You stood there for a second, nerves going haywire as you waited for them to acknowledge you.

“Hey guys,” you mumbled, “can I start you off with something to drink.”

Almost as if it were planned, the five of them glanced up to you in unison. It was really nice to see their faces again and you couldn’t help but smile at them. After a brief moment and a few looks of shock, Jason was the first to break the tension by ordering a drink. Mike, Stephen, and Billy followed; each of them staring at you as if they were trying to decide if it were actually you. You jotted down their drink orders and finally focused on Rob.

He was still as good-looking as ever. You felt your breath catch as he made eye contact, those beautiful blues staring right at you.

“Hey,” he began, “bartender?”

You let out a nervous laugh. “Well, not bartender anymore.” You motioned to yourself, pointing out the new uniform that was required in a place like this.

“I mean…” he paused for a second, examining you before his eyes stopped right at your chest. You felt yourself blush, wondering if he was really checking out your boobs right now. Granted, the outfit sort of enhanced everything, but you didn’t really expect it from him. He reached a hand up to you, tapping his finger on your name badge with a soft smile. “Y/N.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s me,” you smiled.

“I swear you look so familiar,” he replied.

“I can’t imagine why.”

“You sure you’re name isn’t Lola?” You certainly expected this. The way he was now grinning at you, not in a playful way, but in an unamused way.

“Oh, Lola…” you trailed off, breaking eye contact, “you know, she was kind of a mess. She did a lot of really stupid shit. I kinda had leave her behind.”

Rob nodded, smiling a little more now. He said nothing else other than placing his drink order with you.

You remained nervous through the entire thing. You brought drinks to them, took food orders, and brought them their food; all while slowly building up a panic inside. You were sure you would lose it completely, mostly because of the way they went right into ignoring you during their meal. Fortunately, you had a sudden small rush at this point and your focus was pulled from them to a few other tables of customers.

You lost yourself in your thoughts, mostly running on auto-pilot while you worked. You thought about all the things you could say to him, in hopes that they might be the right things and he could forgive you. You thought also thought about what you had put him through, and wondered if you could even really change just like that. While you were lost, you glanced over to their table only to see that they had left while you in the kitchen retrieving an order for one of your tables. You felt a knot in your chest when you realized that they were gone, that Rob was gone. You didn’t even get the chance to apologize or try to explain yourself to him.

You finished out your shift, feeling an immense sadness that you hadn’t felt in a long time. It had taken weeks for you to be sort of okay after the night of their record release party. That night, you had opened yourself up completely, confessing your feelings to Rob, only to have him completely deny you and break your heart. Seeing him again randomly like this had reopened those wounds. The worst part of it was that you still couldn’t fix anything.

You said goodnight to Amy and the other waitress who had come in for her shift. Grabbing your purse and coat, you walked out the main doors, ready to head home and get some sleep. You stepped out onto the sidewalk, staring down as you turned in the direction of the parking lot. You had made it a few steps before you heard a voice call out to you.

“Hey, bartender!”

You spun around quickly, recognizing that name, and mostly recognizing that voice. There on the bench right outside the restaurant sat Rob. You didn’t even notice him when you walked out, but he noticed you.

“Rob?”

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, “not bartender. You’re Y/N now.”

He stood up from the bench and walked toward you, stopping just a few feet in front of you.

“Yeah. There’s no bartender, no Lola… it’s just me.”

He smiled at you, probably taking note over how uncomfortable you had grown again.

“Y/N,” he said your name again, “I like it. It’s a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

“What are you doing here anyway?” He asked, motioning toward the building.

“Oh, well, my old job… that got a bit awkward, especially when this guy I was sleeping with went and complained about me to my boss.”

Rob gave you a pained look, “yeah, about that… I’m sorry. I was a little pissed off, and I didn’t want to see you again. I didn’t think she’d fire you though.”

“She didn’t. I left.”

“I thought you loved your job.”

“I did,” you replied, “but, it wasn’t the right place for me anymore.”

“Because of me?”

“No,” you said softly. It hadn’t been because of him at all. In the end, it had always been about you and how messed up you were. “I just- wasn’t myself when I was working there. I got tired of being someone else.”

“Lola?”

“Yeah,” you laughed, “Lola was a piece of work. She was a great girl for a long time, kept me safe. But, I sort of got lost, you know?”

“I get it.”

There was an awkward silence. You, trying to avoid looking at him too much; him, staring right into you in a way that put you on edge.

“If you didn’t want to see me again, why are you here?”

“Well, we just kind of stumbled into the place. I didn’t know you worked here.”

“I meant, why are you sitting outside of my work hours after you left?”

“I promise I’m not stalking you.”

“I really hope not. The way we ended, I didn’t even expect you to stay when you noticed I was working.”

“I know. That was a huge mess, wasn’t it?”

“I’m pretty good at creating messes.”

“We both are,” he said with a grin.

“What do you want?” You asked. You were still extremely curious to know why he was sitting out here, willing to approach you after everything.

“I wanted to apologize.”

“You have nothing to apologize for Rob. I should apologize for the way I treated you. I was horrible, and that wasn’t me. Not the real me anyway. I just, tried so hard to not let myself fall for you, because I was so tired of being hurt. I didn’t know what to do with all of that.”

“I know. I’m sorry for how I reacted. But, for so long you insisted that you didn’t want me. And when you said that… when you said what you said, I didn’t believe you.”

“I understand why you didn’t.”

He paused again, staring into your eyes. You could see the hurt still there. All the pain you had put him through hadn’t gone away.

“I waited here because I saw you in there, and I just… I felt those same feelings that I always felt with you all over again. How? How can I still feel this way for you after everything?”

“I guess, the same way I still feel these feelings for you.”

“The guys tried to talk me out of it, hanging out here to wait for you,” he laughed, “but I think it’s my only chance to know for sure.”

“To know what?”

“You know, I thought about calling you. So many times. And I stopped myself because I was so done being strung along. It hurt too much.”

“I know.”

“But, seeing you again like this, I don’t know, maybe it happened because now I can finally just ask you if you meant what you said.”

You felt yourself begin to cry; that night replaying in your mind again. The way you had finally let yourself feel something for him, the way he had shot you down. The last thing you wanted was to say those words again, just to have them denied. You figured he was still angry at you, and you couldn’t blame him. But, you also didn’t want to hurt any more than you already were. You looked back to him, tears falling down your face. You didn’t want to let yourself be vulnerable again, but you realized just then that you were willing to be vulnerable for him; even if he was only doing this to be cruel. You were certain that he wanted you to say the words again so that he could tell you that you had fucked up any chance you had with him.

You nodded at him, trying to form the words. “I meant it. I love you. I always did I think. I just- didn’t know how to love you.”

You sucked in a breath, bracing yourself for the harsh blow. You knew he was going to destroy you again, but you had it coming. Anything that he wanted to say to you; whether he wanted to remind you of what a terrible person you were, whether he wanted to scream at you or cause a scene right here in front of your work; you were ready for it. Because you knew you deserved it.

You saw his lips turn up at the corner of his mouth, giving you just a slight smirk as he watched you cry.

“Who’s the one saying this?” He asked.

“It’s just me.”

“My bartender?” He said fondly. He took a step closer to you, reaching a hand up to your face to wipe away some of your tears.

You shook your head at him, “I’m not a bartender anymore.”

“Yeah, I see that.”

“It’s just me now.”

“Y/N…” he said your name slowly, letting it slip past his lips quietly. “I like the sound of that.”

You felt his fingertips brush along your jawline, the sensation sending shivers through your body. You were still waiting for it. You had done your fair share of leading him on and letting him believe that things would become more, only to let him down constantly. Why wouldn’t he be doing the same to you right now?

“What are you doing?” You asked finally.

“I’m just trying to decide if it would be insane for me to tell you that I love you again.”

“It might be. We’re both pretty crazy,” you joked.

Rob chuckled, “The two of us, together? It always was a mess. It could still be a bad thing.”

“I think you mean; you and Lola together. The two of you were bad news.”

“I really didn’t like her very much,” he said, “but you… I still love you. I never stopped thinking of you. I don’t think I can give you up, and I don’t know that I want to.”

You felt yourself cry harder now; his hand still holding your face. He led you closer to him, letting his lips brush against yours softly as if to test whether or not it was okay. That was when you wrapped your arms around him, grasping onto him in a desperate attempt to have him closer to you. You pulled him to you and he let his lips press against yours.

You kissed for a long time, as if it had been your first kiss ever; and you figured, in a way, it was your first real kiss. You were letting yourself be you, and even if you had maybe let your real self slip out in the past, it was never quite like this.

You didn’t want to let go, not even when you knew the two of you would have to come back for air at some point. You held onto him, almost as if you were afraid to let go again. You had been so stupid and had given up the one person you really did care about, just because you were afraid to be in love. But, here he was again. He was with you and he had said that he still loved you, even after everything.

When he was finally able to end the kiss, smiling as you held on to him for dear life; he looked down at you.

“Would we be insane for trying this again?”

“Probably.”

“Well, I guess it wouldn’t really be us if we weren’t a little crazy.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“What do we do now?” He asked. He seemed to be just as confused and lost as you in this moment. You had both admitted that you still loved each other, and you had also admitted that you had made a huge mess of things between you. You knew you still wanted to be with him, to try to love him, but you still didn’t know how to do that. Maybe it was something that you would have to figure out together.

“I guess, we can just try to see where this can go. For real this time.”

“My place or yours?” He asked with a smirk.

You thought about it, now wondering if it was a good idea. You had only just got him back and the whole sleeping together thing had been what put you in this entire mess to begin with. Could you go there again without freaking out? Could you fall back into this with him and learn to let yourself go?

“I think you’re going to have to date me for a little while before I let you sleep with me,” you responded.

Rob gave you an amused smile. “I was not expecting that.”

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s okay,” he said softly as he pulled you in, holding you close to him. You felt him kiss the top of your head and you closed your eyes as you let yourself get lost in him again. “For you, I’m willing to wait.”

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