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idiopath-fic-smile · 8 months

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this one goes out to all my Singin' in the Rain ot3 truthers—

Cosmo Brown had always known it would end like this.

Cosmo was a lot of things—in fact, you could argue he was too many—but he wasn’t dumb.

From the early years, when Cosmo and Don were just kids playing for pennies in pool halls, to their stint dodging rotten vegetables on Vaudeville stages across the very backwaters of America’s backwaters, to their first real breath of success in Hollywood (and then the second and the third and the fourth), Cosmo would catch a glimpse of his handsome, charismatic friend from the corner of his eye—a flash of dark hair, that perfect tooth powder ad smile—and know that for all Don’s protestations, someday the guy was gonna meet a wonderful girl and get married, settle down, and very gently slip off to the far edge of Cosmo’s life.

So yes, Cosmo had seen Kathy Selden coming. Not the details, not her sense of humor or her musical little laugh or the madcap way she really threw herself into dancing with them around Don’s place at 1:30 in the morning—and okay, certainly not the part at the beginning where she had jumped out of a cake at a party, but he thought a fella could be excused for not correctly divining that.

The general outline of the thing, though, how Don’s eyes followed her around a room...he had been preparing for Don to propose to Kathy ever since she’d tried to throw a pie at Don’s face. And when the happy day came, Cosmo had been ready with his best man suit, his best man speech, a slightly updated version of “Here Comes the Bride” that’d had Don and Kathy laughing all the way down the aisle.

Don and Kathy would buy a house together. They would have a swimming pool and a dog and then inevitably, a small parade of adorable little snot-nosed kids who would call him Uncle Cosmo, and they would spend less and less time with him, not on purpose but busy with the rest of their lives, and ultimately Cosmo would learn to make his peace with it because he’d have no other choice and he would have to try to move on and not live too much in his memories. He could picture it so clearly, he figured if the songwriting gig with Monumental didn’t pan out, he could always return to the backwater circuit with a new act: The Amazing Cosmo of the Cosmos—ladies and gentlemen, he sees the future, he reads the stars, he silently pines for his best married pal and all the while tap dancing!

Don and Kathy inviting him along on their honeymoon, though—that part was a surprise.

“What?” said Cosmo, hands frozen over the piano keys. He’d been busy with a brand-new assignment; on the heels of The Dancing Cavalier, offers were pouring in and he’d taken the first one scoring a movie that didn’t star anyone he was secretly in love with.

Don had looked a little wounded when Cosmo broke the news last week, but a guy had to start making his own way in the world. Besides, orchestrating layers of strings to swell as the camera zoomed in on Don and Kathy blissfully locking lips in radiant monochrome, oblivious to the rest of the world—well, Cosmo knew that dance, he had mastered the footwork, and he didn’t especially feel like a reprise.

It wasn’t lost on him that Kathy had dropped by his rehearsal space alone today. Of course, he had no idea what this meant—he didn’t think it was about the new job; Don didn’t tend to stay sore at him for that long—but Kathy was acting perfectly natural, and so probably the smart thing was to follow her lead.

“It’s a two-week transatlantic cruise,” she said now, gracefully dropping beside him on the piano bench. “We thought it would be nice to see Europe, take in the sights, get away from all the cameras.”

“Ah yes, such a wallflower, our dear Don,” said Cosmo solemnly. “Besieged on all sides by the love of his public, a tragedy of our times, up there with Lear! Hamlet! Caesar! The one with all the Greeks and the giant wooden horse, nay, nay, neigh.” He played a tragic little trill, for effect. Kathy huffed a laugh and smacked his arm.

“You know that’s not it,” she said. “Being watched all the time—we can’t always do what we want. It’s rotten.”

Tell me about it, thought Cosmo.

He was sort of seeing a fight choreographer named Archibald, who came from old money and was a “the third” or a “the fifth” but nice enough Cosmo might even forgive him for that. Archibald was trim and athletic, with dark brown hair that was just starting to go gray at the temples and enough discretion that Cosmo didn’t think they’d get caught. The only problem was that he didn’t laugh at Cosmo’s jokes, seemed to just tolerate them.

“What do you two even talk about, then?” Don had asked, when Cosmo had let this slip over drinks the same night he’d explained about the new movie project. (Cosmo had been trying to spend less time with Don and Kathy since the wedding but Don had said, “C’mon, pal, we miss you” and Kathy had laid one hand on his arm and peered up at him with her big green eyes and Cosmo was only one man.)

Cosmo had frowned, because Don hated Archibald, for reasons that were frankly mysterious. Then he’d looked up and grinned a grin he didn’t exactly feel and said,

“Tell you when you’re older,” and then Don had choked on his dry Martini even though Cosmo knew Don knew about Cosmo’s tendencies. It wasn’t something they discussed, and Cosmo had never properly gone with a guy before, but whenever a big-shot producer started complaining about all the degenerate queers in showbiz, Don always sharply steered the conversation someplace else. It was all very gallant and noble and knightly, and someday Don would play King Arthur and Kathy his lady Guinevere—

“Honestly, sometimes it feels as if we’re living in a fishbowl,” said Kathy now, in the present.

“And so your solution is to relocate,” said Cosmo, “to the biggest fishbowl on this here magnificent earth. The mighty ocean!” He struck up a sea shanty. “Oh blow the man down, blow the man down / way ay, blow the man down…”

Not everyone appreciated his musical flights of fancy, but when Cosmo turned, she was leaning with her elbow on the side arm of the piano, watching him with her chin on her hand and laughing.

“Just for two weeks,” she said. “So, are you coming?”

“With you two,” said Cosmo, just so there could be no misunderstandings. “On your one and only honeymoon.”

“Yes,” said Kathy.

“As what, your first mate?”

“Sure.” She grinned and threw him a quick salute. Cosmo was almost never attracted to women but in this case, he understood the appeal.

He swallowed. “You are aware of that ancient saying, ‘Two’s company and three’s a fast track to divorce court’?”

“You’re hardly a threat to our marriage, Cosmo,” she said, and he agreed, of course, in both directions, even, but it still stung to hear her say it out loud. For want of anything better to do, he gasped, clutched a hand to his chest and reeled backwards so hard, he threw himself off the piano bench, landing in a somersault on the floor.

Kathy spun around fluidly on the bench to face him, pleated skirt whirling a little, heels of her shoes clicking together.

“Oh, I said that badly,” she said. “I only mean that it’s more fun when you’re around. We have a better time, Don and me both. Remember the night we decided to make Dueling Cavalier a musical?”

“Do I remember the best night of my life?” Cosmo peered up at her from the hardwood. “Why yes, madam, now that you mention it, I believe it might ring a bell or two.”

“The best—” She frowned for a moment, and he remembered then that as a newly married woman, a newly married woman to Don Lockwood, no less, she’d no doubt experienced any number of evenings that blew that one out of the water.

Even besides that, it felt awfully revealing all of a sudden. Cosmo threw an arm over his eyes. He felt naked. He wished he was naked, because that might at least distract from whatever his face was doing.

“So it beats your time with Archibald, then?” said Kathy shrewdly.

Cosmo uncovered his eyes. He forgot, sometimes, that new as Kathy was to the moving pictures business, she was still a city girl, with a city girl’s worldliness. Also, Don had probably told her; that seemed like the kind of second-hand secrets married people shared with each other. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“Hardly a topic for mixed company,” he said.

There was a pause.

“So yes,” she said and smiled with a smugness that would’ve been unbecoming were she not as cute as a button.

“What do you and Don have against the poor man anyway?” he groused. “He’s never done so much as sneezed in your direction, and if he did, I’m sure he’d use a handkerchief.”

“For one thing, we know you could do better,” said Kathy, folding her arms.

Cosmo elbowed his way back to sitting, brushing himself off with dignity. “Well, better’s not exactly knocking on my door right now.”

“This town doesn’t have an ounce of sense.” She reached down to offer him a hand up, pulling Cosmo to his feet; she was stronger than she looked. “Listen, two weeks away, it’ll be good for you.”

“What about you two?” Cosmo protested as he reclaimed his spot on the bench, Kathy sliding to make room.

“What about us?” said Kathy with wide eyes.

“Two newlyweds might want some alone time?” he offered weakly.

Kathy shrugged. “I told you, there won’t be reporters or cameras. It’ll be plenty private.”

“What about your matrimonial needs?”

“Which needs?”

His eyes narrowed; she was a terrific actress but suddenly he wasn’t sure he was buying it. Kathy wasn’t dumb either.

“You have to know what I mean. Don’t make me play Cole Porter at you,” said Cosmo. She hesitated, and Cosmo began to pluck out a melody: “Birds do it, bees do it / even educated fleas do it…” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Let’s do it,” sang Kathy, finishing the stanza in her lovely alto, “let’s fall in love.”

Cosmo stopped playing.

“I do know,” she said simply, “of course I do, and we’re not worried about it, alright? Listen, do you want to go?”

Cosmo, who had been carefully not asking himself that question, stared down at the piano keys. Did he want to go? He thought back to that night at Don’s, the three of them giddy with excitement and inspiration and sleep deprivation, running through the house, clowning around and dancing with no audience except each other—he hadn’t felt like a hanger-on then, like a third wheel or an extra limb or a chaperone. He’d felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be, one note of a perfect chord.

Still.

“I can’t swim,” he said.

“They’ll have lifejackets,” said Kathy.

“I’ll have to work.”

“We’ll bring a piano.”

“All my houseplants will die,” said Cosmo.

“All your houseplants are fake,” she said. This was true, although he wasn’t sure how she knew since she’d never been to his house. She sighed. “Remember the night of that first screening, when you were about to expose Lina and instead of explaining what was happening, Don told me I had to sing, that I didn’t have a choice?”

He winced, thinking of Kathy’s heartbroken, tear-stained face before they’d pulled up the curtain and revealed who was really singing when Lina moved her lips.

“Yes, and I feel just awful about it.”

“Well, Don doesn’t,” said Kathy. “Because he knew it would take too long to convince me to do something that mean to her.”

“Mean?” Cosmo echoed. “She tried to trap you in a lifelong contract and steal your voice. A common sea witch wouldn’t stoop so low.”

“But there wasn’t time,” she pressed. “And anyway, he knew how it would end.”

“What’s your point?”

“We already bought your tickets,” said Kathy.

Cosmo gaped at her.

“We’ve cleared the trip with everyone at Monumental and anyway, like I said, we’ll have a piano on the boat.”

Distantly, he was aware his mouth was still hanging open. Kathy reached over with one light finger under his chin and gently closed it.

“That’s better,” she said, folding her hands daintily in her lap. It was around this time she seemed to realize it wasn’t some routine, that Cosmo really was well and truly stunned. “Of course, nobody is going to force you to go with us if you truly don’t want to,” she said into the silence.

“These tickets,” he said at last, “are they refundable?”

“Gosh,” said Kathy easily, “I can’t imagine they are, no.”

The thing was, none of them were hurting for money or work anymore, so the fact that Don and Kathy might be out even a few hundred dollars didn’t catch at him the way it might’ve some years earlier. No, the thought that really seized his imagination was the mental image of Don and Kathy planning this together, Don and Kathy discussing the matter with each other, maybe over breakfast—toast and coffee in their dressing gowns, so sure it was the right thing to do that they’d decided to just go ahead and make preparations: oh and a ticket for Cosmo, of course.

He could do it, he realized. He could go. He wanted to go. It was foolish, but Cosmo was an entertainer; he’d been doing foolish things in front of a roomful of witnesses since he was in shortpants.

“I’ll pack tonight,” he said.

“Perfect!” Kathy hopped off the bench and straightened out her dress. “And bring something nice to wear at dinner for a night or two; it doesn’t need to be black-tie formal, a good suit will do.”

He nodded. “I shall leave the top hat and monocle at home. Two weeks, you say?”

“Yes, and another half-day on either side flying to the harbor and back.” She reached into her coat pocket, and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. “The itinerary,” she said. “Don and I are so glad you’ll be coming.”

“Uh-huh,” said Cosmo. “Say, where is that fella, anyway? What’s the big idea, can’t even stick around to ask his best pal to his own honeymoon?”

“He’s planning the trip,” said Kathy brightly. “Last-minute details. Anyway, he thought you and I should have a chat, one on one. He thought it might help.”

He blinked. “Help what?”

“Help us,” she said.

It was all starting to feel like a farce, like one of those old Vaudeville acts with a lot of fast talking.

“Did it?” he asked.

“I think so,” said Kathy warmly. She turned and began to walk towards the door. “See you at the airport tomorrow. Six AM sharp.”

“Six AM,” he said, and then, foolishly, “You know, I can see why he likes you.”

Kathy dimpled. “Oh, likewise!” She tossed him another smile and then she was heading out of sight down the hallway, shoes clacking rhythmically on the tile.

“Well,” said Cosmo to no one. He felt pole-axed, he decided. He wasn’t sure he had ever felt pole-axed in his life before, but there was no other word for it.

He played a chord, then another chord, then a few more.

“Pole-axed,” he sang, “out of whack, when you are near there’s only one drawback: I can’t be clever, no I lack the knack, Darling, I’m pole-axed, out of whack around you!”

It wasn’t exactly Cole Porter, but he’d take it, he thought, reaching for his pen. There was still an hour or two left before he’d need to race traffic home and dig out his suitcase. Apparently, he had early morning plans.

(ETA: if you didn't see, there is now a second part here!)

(ETA THE SECOND: the whole finished thing is now here!

#singin in the rain ot3 #i might write more idk but listen like you can probably imagine the rest of it #old-timey polyamorous shenanigans on a boat #pretty straightforward stuff #there's singing there's dancing and somehow don managed to 'accidentally' book cosmo in an adjoining bedroom etc etc

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fredy-holzer · 2 years

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fredy-holzer #fredyholzer por fredy holzer

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cutecapybarapics · 2 years

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#mangacap #manga screencap #manga aesthetic #monochrome #chainsaw man #chainsawmanedit #csm #manga panel #halloween #cosmos fiend

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amaryllidae · 11 months

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i.... i am on a fairly oddparents kick and rewatch.... heres anti cosmo and anti wandas redesigns for that silly au of mine. thought the monochrome blue could do with red

#fop #anti cosmo #anti wanda #fairly oddparents #the fairly oddparents

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odditycircus-2002 · 1 year

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Your Marriage with Jimmy Crystal

While you tried in your own ways to make sure your band gets their much-deserved attention as well for their various works besides just the music, the fact that you were pushed to be front and center stage didn't help matters.

When you asked your husband, Jimmy explained that it's just obvious to advertise you as the leading star of your band. While that's part of the reason, in reality, Jimmy did not really like how touchy-feely and close you and your fellow lead singer/guitarist are. While you repeatedly assured him that your friend is just that, a friend and lightly teased him about it before giving him affection in assurance, Jimmy just couldn't seem to shake that doubt. Given he was the producer for your band, all of you had to acquiesce.

Although you tried to assure your friends you were doing your best to make their jobs easier on them, you had a feeling they didn't quite believe you. The fact that Jimmy would sometimes whisk you away during production or in the midst of a writing session with your band didn't help. In fact, you're starting to wonder when was the last time you and your band actually hung outside of work hours. You couldn't recall the last time you had a simple milkshake and burger, just being you and your pals. In fact, most of your time was spent with your husband and his associates.

Your husband still leaves you gifts occasionally, yet for a time, they seemed more like something his fellow media moguls, their wives, his friends, or his parents. That is to say, something much more pristine and monochrome, save for a hint of blue or gold. Far less colorful than what you would usually wear.

On top of that, Jimmy would lecture you before meeting such big wigs on how to act.

"You don't want me to look bad, hun? I've worked so hard to get us where we're at right now; I just don't want you to accidentally make a fool of yourself."

If you were honest with yourself, you felt like you were in a sort of limbo. As if you're just going with the motions but with Jimmy directing the boat you're on. Your band seems to take notice of this, whenever you show up for a writing session or rehearsals.

Sure, you'd acted as your usual cheerful self and pulled your weight all while giving it your all; yet, it seemed more like a front than anything. It's as if the usual fire in you has started to die out, little by little every day.

Then one day, that fire started to reignite in you as you came rushing into the studio with wonderful news. You're pregnant!

Of course, all your friends were happy for you and congratulated you. Work was delayed that day because of how you and your group had a spontaneous small party to celebrate. This would usually irritate the crap out of Jimmy until he learned the reason behind it.

Jimmy was so thrilled that he lifted you into the air to briefly twirl you around, with the biggest smile on his face. He promised you that he'll make sure your pregnancy is as comfortable as possible and that'll he'll be there for your child.

During those months, Jimmy was far more indulgent than he usually was. This included having a spare room at the Penthouse painted to resemble the cosmos and a field of flowers, your family being able to visit more often as news of your expecting spread, the best baby products money could buy; more flexible hours so you can spend more time with your friends; not to mention, Jimmy giving you far more of his undivided attention. You two would chat about what you hoped your daughter would be like possible names, who she'll take after more, etc. At night, you'd often snuggle up with your husband with his paws around your belly and whispering to your unborn child. Honestly, those were some of the best days you had with Jimmy for a long long time.

You wanted to name your daughter Star Shine because of a dream you once had of your daughter up on stage, shining as brightly as a star. However, Jimmy laughed at the name and called it ridiculous. You pretended to laugh, too, at the time.

That never stopped you from calling your daughter Porsha, the name you literally dreamed of giving her, and any variations of the name. In fact, your daughter inspired you to write a couple of songs for her about how she's the light and hope of your world.

You love your daughter Porsha, which goes without saying. You love spending time with her, whether that's going rollerblading, dressing up for the fun of it while playing pretend, singing karaoke, dancing to music, or other mother/daughter activities. You love just how bright and silly your Shining Star is, through her highs and lows.

Your band sometimes jokes about how they could see your eyes literally light up whenever you caught a little Porsha supporting you during rehearsals or concerts. The rest of your band adored Porsha and treated her like family.

Speaking of family, Jimmy acted like an attentive father and amazing husband for the first couple of years. Yet, as Porscha became older, he became more focused on his work, putting on bigger shows and finding the best of the best musically-wise. He would spoil Porsha as he would with you, but he used it more as a means to placate her whenever you were too busy. While you tried to tell Jimmy that he can't just spoil your daughter and never say no to her, he would give you only half assurances that he'll do better with her.

It wasn't just Porsha you noticed Jimmy becoming distant with, but you, again. Yes, you know that your husband is a busy man with a demanding job, yet he always seems to find new ways to keep working even when there's really no need. It's as if he doesn't find you or your own daughter worth his time. Still, Still, he expects you to drop everything you're doing, whether it's convenient or not, to take care of Porsha WHILE you're busy with your career. Then still suspecting nothing less than perfection from you while never giving you any meaningful time of day.

Over the years, you realized that Jimmy's treatment and attitude towards both of you weren't really going to improve. You don't know what it was; whether that be too many missed birthdays, Christmases, a cycle of love-bombing and distance; Jimmy snapping at you and your loved ones too many times; his tendency to treat you as arm candy; how your husband made it seem like every little thing is somehow your fault; how he downplays your accomplishments or never takes you seriously; you just wanted out of your marriage with Jimmy Crystal.

You tried to bring up how you wanted to divorce Jimmy over one of the rare dinners he actually sat through entirely while your daughter was having a slumber party with her friends. Yet, he just laughed at the idea and didn't take you seriously.

When you insisted that you were serious, Jimmy narrowed his eyes at you with his frown so deep it was almost a snarl. You didn't miss how his claws dug rivets into the dining table.

"You wouldn't want to make your dear husband look bad? Especially not when one of the biggest concerts in your career, which I helped make, is coming up right on our anniversary? Would ya now, Sunshine?"

He then grabbed your face with his claws close to cutting past your fur and into your skin, causing you to let out a whimper. This time he was snarling

"I know you're not a bozo who would ruin her career with such a scandal before then, right?"

You only nodded at the time, only to get Jimmy to calm down and relax his grip on you.

"Good, very good. I know you'll do spectacularly as always do."

You immediately told your bandmates everything that happened the first chance you got. They were right all this time that Jimmy was bad news and not all that you thought he was. You teared up as you called yourself stupid for not realizing this truth sooner, but your friends weren't having any of this. They were here to support and love you, offering advice on finally getting you and Porsha away from that wolf.

Throughout the day, you and your bandmates helped you come up with a bold and, admittedly, borderline insane idea on how to break it off for good with Jimmy. You'll just need to make some calls with your parents, the airport, some friends of friends, and some last-minute adjustments to your concert.

Even if this doesn't work as planned, it'll still be a spectacle to behold.

Playlist while Writing:

"Idol" by Yaosobi

"Glad you Came" Cover by Boyce Avenue

"S.T.A.R Child" By Orion Experience

"Baby of Mine" by Betty Noyes

"You are my Sunshine" Cover by Christina Perri

"All Dolled Up" by Orion Experience

"Skipalong" by Lenka

"What Goes Up" by Lenka

"Win it All" by Orion Experience

#my writing #sing jimmy crystal #sing 2 jimmy crystal #Jimmy Crystal #sing 2016 #sing 2021 #sing headcanons #Sing #Sing 2 #sing 2 movie #reader insert #Jimmy Crystal X Reader #porsha crystal #sing 2 porsha

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kalevalakryze · 9 months

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Mar'e'yi'manda

A quiet night under the stars on Lothal, Shin's laying in the grass next to Sabine, "What does it feel like?" They ask, risking a glance over to the other woman in the silver light of the moons.

"what does what feel like?" Sabine hums, fingers twiddling where they're clasped over her stomach.

"To be you?" There's something vulnerable there, something that tells Sabine not to look at them, so she focuses her golden eyes into the reflection of the light that reminds her of Shin so much.

"Everything sings," Her hand raises, open towards the night sky, a gentle breeze skirting past open fingers as her other hand drops from her stomach and to the grass, caking mud under her nails when she sinks the tips of her fingers into the dirt, to the still rain-damp layers below the surface.

"Sings? They question, and Sabine can hear them rustling in the grass, rolling onto their side so they can look across the foot of empty space separating them.

"Music is in everything, y'know?" The Artist shrugged, letting her risen hand finally drop back to the ground to twist grass up between her fingers.

"The wind in the grass, the ships coming out and going in, the life in the cities, the life we can't even see, all of it; and thats just who I am."

"I am the wind echoing across stone and I'm the sun melting away shadows, and sometimes I'm the color and the world is just waiting on me to paint it; I spent too long living in monochrome prisons to be anything but this.. this life,"

"Maybe that's sappy," Sabine huffed out with a tired smile, moving her dirt streaked hands back over her stomach, clasping them together once more, as if physically holding herself in and against the earth beneath them.

"To a Mandalorian, everything is handled in song- The Manda is everything we are; past, present, and future. It's this collective of all of our brothers and sisters, the songs of the lives they've lived. I can't be me without mentioning them, and the songs they wove into this life-"

Offering a sheepish smile, Sabine dares a look back at Shin. Their gaze is cast towards the moons in thought, their gloveless fingers twirling the padawan braid in a self stimulating movement, the ball of their gemstone sliding between the lightsaber calloused pads of her fingertips.

They seemed to be deep in thought, so Sabine let her words fade into the calming silence. From the tower, she could faintly hear Ezra, fumbling as he tried to navigate their home in its new state, with the most naggy occupant in the form of a territorial Loth-cat.

When peace and good company had finally begun to lull Sabine into a near sleep-like tranquility, accent thick in thoughtful words. "The force is like that too," They were contemplative, head held up in one hand, while the other traced a line of smell pebbles hidden in the grass.

"Singing?"

"Ah... Perhaps," Shin's nose crinkled. "I do not hear the music you are referring to, but-" The wolf sat up, legs crossing beneath them and hands dropping to the dirt caught in her greaves. "I can hear the stories." When Sabine's gaze flickered back to them, she found the pebbles, suspended in the air above their palms.

"Not the echoes in the force, more..." A slow exhale, the furrowing of their brows, and a tingle of anxiety as it melted into the cosmos around them. "Your music, your manda; that is the force, for me... My Master taught that everything was the will of The Force, like the Jedi; that we are conduits of the force and executors of its will... and the force has to have wants based on experience, right?"

A smile flickered on Sabine's lips as she watched the pebbles raise higher, the stars reflecting in their eyes as they followed the bottommost stone. Even after everything, Shin never did get talking much; Sabine learned long ago to take every moment their passion and drive for understanding was allowed to surface.

"The Force is written by the lives of all, these stones were once boulders, and in the Force, their pieces can be found; they never stop Being. They will always have a story, even when we cannot see them anymore."

"Funny, Jedi and Mandalorians have a long history of fighting over things like this, when they're so similar," Sabine shook her head as she finally sat up, brushing grass out of her hair.

The pitter-patter of soft paws in the grass tickled her ears, though before Sabine's head could turn, Nix was already making his way to clamber into Shin's open lap. "Little beast," They greeted with a sigh, allowing their pebbles to drop into their hands, setting them down back into the dirt where they had been found.

"I always had a hard time understanding the 'Force is life' thing; But I get it, I think;"

"There is no true way to get it. However you interpret it, so long as you are acknowledging the life it has and the impact you have on it all, that's what it is." Silence fell over the two women again, Sabine allowed her body to lean, shoulder drifting until she was pressing against the smooth leather of the jacket she would never hope to get back. "Thanks for that; I think sometimes, I need the reminder of how big it all is, and how we're all significant despite the size of it."

"Well, you cannot punch it, paint it, or blow it up, so I doubt you would have understood it alone, Mandalorian,"

"Why you little-!" Sabine shoved into Shin, sending Nix hissing and darting off into the tall grass as the wolf and the moon rolled in the grass.

"Hey guys! The Noti are hungry and I think I set your kitchen on fire!" Ezra called, squinting at the plume of smoke from the upstairs door wafting into the night sky.

"Little brothers," Sabine shook her head as she came to a stop, pinned into the dirt with a near smiling wolf.

"Jedi," Shin agreed, rolling their weight off and offering a hand up to the purple haired woman; Force, Manda, whatever it was, both would be rich with the songs and the stories of Ezra Bridger, the Jedi who ignited a bowl of ice-cream.

#wolfwren #wrenwolf #sabine wren #shin hati #shin x sabine #sabine x shin #Sabine Wren x Shin hati #ezra bridger #I got a little soft #a little lost in thought #a little something #i'm soft #ficlet #star wars #drabble #no angst #Mandalorian

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