#also it's called 'caf' in case anyone was wondering

[clonecaptains]

me writing this poe fic is like “lol this is 100% canon divergent” but also “omg what do they call coffee in the star wars universe???”

#taylor talks #it's like i gotta have the details but canon is out lol #also it's called 'caf' in case anyone was wondering #he drinks a lot of caf

[nevertheless-moving]

Star Wars AU #20: MacenJar AU

Inspired by this meme and with permission from @simpskywalker

This au is dedicated to everyone who told me that this concept ‘gave them a headache’ or ‘psychic damage’. Especially that special someone who begged me to ‘please stop’ because ‘i hate this, i hate this so much’ and told me ‘please don’t say more words about this.’

Crack Lies Ahead, enough to consume a man. I have spoken.

“Ani. Ani. Anakin Skywalker.”

“Hmm?” The dulcet sounds of Padme calling his name dragged Anakin from sleep against his will. 

“Anakin, you have to get up.”

He groaned, rolling over. “...here’s my face...I’ll...be awake in a second...just sit down...I’m awake...”

“No, Anakin you have to leave, remember. You have a 5 AM take-off scheduled, and you made me promise I would get you up early this time, come on.”

She cruelly yanked the covers away. He gasped in betrayal. 

“My own wife...how could you.”

“Anakin if you’re not out of bed in the next 30 seconds the next time you beg to stay the night because ‘you can get up early, you swear’ I am kicking you out before anyone sits anywhere near anyone’s face, do you understand.”

He sat bolt upright and stumbled out of bed. “Ok, Ok, I’m up I- Padme!”

“Yes?” She asked sweetly, brushing her hair at the vanity. 

“It’s 3 AM!”

“Yes I know, you were going to stop at that bakery I recommended, remember?”

“You woke me up an hour and half early so I could stop at a bakery,” he asked, disbelieving.

“Yes, Anakin, it was your idea. It was going to be your cover, in case anyone wondered what you were doing in the building.”

“That is-” before he could call it the stupidest idea he had ever heard, the memory of promising Padme that staying the night was a good idea because it would facilitate his cunning ruse (he was distracted, ok? Padme was wearing a lot of layers) came rushing back.

“-right,” he finished lamely.

Padme just hummed and began braiding in her cosmetic forcefields. 

Anakin managed to stretch, complete his morning refresher run, and arrange his robes in a suitably decorous fashion by the time Padme had established the base layer of her hairstyle for the day.

A quick kiss- no goodbye, it hurt too much to say goodbyes in war - and Anakin was out the door. 

He idly scratched his chin, vacantly looking out the lift and vaguely considering growing a beard. The pre-dawn view was quickly replaced by metal walls as the ride dropped below the skyline.

The transparisteel pod began to slow scarcely one third of the way down. Anakin suppressed a groan and tried to arrange his expression in Jedi-stoic manner, hoping that whoever got in the lift with him would be too intimidated by seeing a Jedi close-up to think about what they were doing in a Senatorial Apartment building at 3:15 in the morning. If they ask, I’m visiting the famous Bebbisun Bakery. Bennison? BELLASAN. I’m visiting the Bellasan Bakery.

Actually, anyone getting into the elevator this early was probably also doing the walk of shame so it’s probably fi-KRIFFING SITH SPIT THAT’S

“Master Windu!” Anakin cleared his throat, trying to lower his voice an octave. “Good- Good Morning!”

Windu’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “Ah. Knight Skywalker. Good morning to you as well,” he replied, stepping in the elevator, doors closing behind.

The lift descended as Anakin’s heart rate skyrocketed. This was it. Windu had to be here for Anakin. What other possible explanation could there be? WHY WASN’T HE SAYING ANYTHING?

Wait.

What other possible explanation...could...why wasn’t he saying ANYTHING?

Anakin scrutinized Master Windu out of the corner of his eye. Were those...the same robes he was wearing yesterday? They looked like the same robes but then again...pretty much all robes looked the same so this was probably a stupid way to figure things out. Fuck, it was too early for this.

Unsurprisingly, he couldn’t get a sense of the Master’s surface emotions. But his underlying aura seemed...happy? Typically Windu's serene presence had a tinge of righteous fury (something that had frightened him back when he was a child). But now that ever present vaapad edge was... softened? Anakin wracked his tired brain for a more reasonable explanation than- than the obvious but obviously impossible. He had to projecting. Right? Then again...couplings weren’t forbidden (even if Anakin couldn’t quite understand how people enjoyed just- having sex without any attachment).

The corners of Anakin’s lips twitched. The Master of the Order. Getting laid. Master Windu. In the Senatorial apartments. Mace Windu. What level had he gotten on? Above aides...diplomats probably. Should he ask? Force, this was too good- he couldn’t not ask.

Windu stared at him cooly and the knight instantly sobered. What was he thinking? Windu was obviously trying to trick him! If he said anything, Windu would turn it against him! Well, he wouldn’t be fooled so easily. Anakin spent the next several levels of descent staring forward, determined not to be the one to break the silence. 

He was so focused that he didn’t notice the lift slowing prematurely again until the doors opened; an elderly Rodian hobbled in. The two Jedi moved even further apart to allow the man some space.  The lift closed and newcomer glanced at the humans curiously. 

“Aren’t you Jedi? What are two Jedi doing here so early?”

“Bakery,” Mace and Anakin responded in unison, heads snapping to stare at the other in surprise.

The Rodian chuckled. “Oh, that Bellasan place, right?”

“Yes,” Windu replied smoothly. “They have a famously unique caf blend.”

“And you can’t get Sweesonberry rolls anywhere else,” Anakin added quickly, not letting the opportunity to firm up his cover go to waste.

“You mammals and your carbohydrates,” The elderly reptilian clucked, bemused.

Knight Skywalker and Master Windu exchanged wary looks. The door pinged open on level 4848. 

“Enjoy!” the overly entertained Rodian called out as they stepped out from the closing doors.

Anakin cleared his throat. “After you, Master Windu,” he said politely. CHECKMATE FUCKER.

But Windu just nodded serenely, striding confidently ahead, past the checkpoints and into the attached upper-crust market. After a very short walk, Anakin found himself in line behind Mace Windu at a pastry shop in the basement of his wife’s apartment building.

Anakin blearily thought that sentence through again, then subtly pinched the inside of his arm.

Nope, he was awake.

Every second that passed Anakin had to fight the steadily increasing urge to blurt out something stupid, and possibly incriminating, if not both. Just say something bland! Nothing about why they’re both here so early. Nothing about coming here before. Something casual.

“Smells good,” Anakin said.

Nailed it!

“Indeed,” Mace replied.

I’m a genius! He actually thinks I’m here for the bakery! He’s never going to suspect a thing! He was probably here for some boring pre-dawn meeting, and now I’ve got the perfect excuse to come visit Padme whenever! I can probably start sneaking off more often, I’ve just got to remember to bring back a pasty or something. And he can’t even say shit about un-Jedi like consumption!

“Skywalker-”

Oh no. Please be about the bakery. Pleasebeaboutthe

“Believe me when I tell you that I’d rather not ask-”

Oh NO. THIS ISN’T GOING TO BE ABOUT THE BAKERY. I’M AN IDIOT.

“-But did you fly here in a temple speeder?”

Cold sweat started to trickle down Anakin’s back as they shuffled forward automatically in the surprisingly long queue. Guess that’s why Padme woke me up so early.

“Knight Skywalker? Did you hear me?”

“Yes, Master Windu, sorry- I was, uh, distracted by the specials board. I, um, have my own hoverbike. Built it myself. No temple resources involved.”

“Sounds...distinctive.” Windu’s tone seemed neutral, but the way he pinched the bridge of his nose was obviously irritated. They stepped forward again. Why are so many people at this bakery so early? Guess we’re far enough down that day/night cycles don’t matter so much. Oh kriff, he’s massaging his temples now. Why is he mad about the bike? Is he going to ask where I landed it? Fuck.

Anakin swallowed the lump in his throat. “I- I thought it would be better to take personal property. Since this isn’t exactly order business.”

“That’s very responsible of you. Such...separation of personal from professional is an important skill for a Jedi.” 

The trickle of sweat down his spine increased. The Chosen One discretely wiped his sweaty palms on the inside of his sleeves and prayed that his outer robe was hiding any growing pit stains. 

Are we...actually talking about this? Is he going to admit to having an affair? Is he going to tell me to keep this quiet? I CAN BARELY KEEP MY OWN RELATIONSHIP SECRET! Does he know about Padme? Does he know we’re married? Is this conversation still about the bakery visit? Is HE married?

“However...such a vehicle might not be the most discrete. And discretion is also an important skill.”

Is he giving me permission to use the temple landspeeders to visit padme? Is he telling me to take the bus? WAIT! IS THIS A METAPHOR? Is he telling me to come here less? Is this still about the bakery? Did I actually check that I wasn’t still asleep or did I just dream that I checked?

“Do you understand, Knight Skywalker”

“I- uhh. I mean- well, ummm- OH look, it’s your turn to order!”

Master Windu stepped up to the counter. 

“Hello, again! Same as last time?”

OH FORCE GODS HE’S A REGULAR. THIS IS IT. I’M NEVER GOING TO GET TO SEE OBI-WAN OR ASHOKA AGAIN AND PADME’S CAREER IS GOING TO BE RUINED AND

“The same blend please, but please add on one of your Sweesonberry rolls- a friend recommended them.”

...Did Mace Windu just call me his friend?

“Excellent choice! Your friend has good taste!”

Mace Windu stepped to the side and Anakin Skywalker stepped up. “...I’ll have what he had.” 

A minute or two later, they were walking back to the lift, matching disposamugs and flimsibags in hand. 

To try and delay the inevitable, the pale and now very sweaty young Jedi took a sip of caf. He raised both brows involuntary. “This is...really good. Holy kriff. I don’t usually drink caf for the flavor but...wow.”

“Worth the trip?” Windu asked. Anakin choked a little but successfully managed to swallow. He took another sip to avoid answering. 

Windu took a bite of his roll, making a small noise of appreciation, “The pastry is also excellent. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth but this is remarkably smooth...I can’t say I’ve ever had anything quite like it.”

“Floral, right?” Anakin said, grinning into his cup. 

“Yes, that’s a good description.” Ha! I told Padme I was paying attention.

They drank companionably as the lift indicator dinged closer. 

“Skywalker...you’re parked on 4970, right?”

The knight nodded, too afraid to speak. The force seemed to swirl at the precipice of something. 

The Master sighed. “Look- I’ve got an unregistered van- this one time only, stow the speeder, and I’ll give you a ride back. If you’re visiting the bakery in the future- please take something with a closed cab. Last thing we need is the tabloids wondering where you’re going...”

Anakin nodded again, more eagerly again. He was practically being given permission to visit Padme! That was totally worth an excruciatingly awkward flight back to the temple! He just had to chew slowly so he couldn’t blurt out anything marriage related! He was a genius!

The lift opened.

“Jar-Jar!” Anakin said, surprised and pleased. “Wow, are you also here for the bakery? This place really is popular!”

“Ani! Little Ani! Wassa you doin here?” Jar-Jar looked around wildly, then stumbled out, foot catching at the gap. Windu darted forward and effortlessly saved the Gungan before he hit the floor, while Anakin stuck his arm forward to catch the closing door.

“Bakery, Jar Jar!” he said as he stepped inside. “I’d love to talk, but we’ve actually got to get back to the temple!”

Windu struggled to untangle himself from Jar-Jar, who was being particularly unhelpful about it, even for him. Wow he’s even clingier than usual this early in the morning. It’s nice how patient Master Windu is being; I feel like even Obi-Wan can be too hard on Jar-Jar sometimes.

“Actually Skywalker, why don’t you go on ahead and stow the bike- I just remembered I meant to pick something up for Council; I won’t take long.”

“Uh. Alright,” Anakin said, catching the keys. I guess I can’t really be late if I arrive with Master Windu.

“Ossa no!” Jar-Jar exclaimed sadly. “I was justa saying to Macey lassa night thatsa I missed talkin wit little Ani!”

Anakin smiled reassuringly as the lift began to close. “Don’t worry Jar-Jar! We’ll- catch uh-HOLD ON did you say LAST NIGHT?!”

Mace’s eyes closed in resignation as the door shut on the pair, Jar-Jar still tangled around the Jedi.

AND MACE WASN’T EVEN TRYING TO PUT HIM BACK UPRIGHT ANYMORE HOLY KRIFF JUST PUT THAT TOGETHER.

Anakin stared blankly at the metal walls as they rushed past. The lone Jedi Knight took a long sip of caff, then carefully placed the pastry bag and drink on the floor. He systematically wadded up the sleeve of his robe and shoved in his mouth. He then spent the next few minutes squealing with unholy glee while literally bouncing off the walls in a manner only accessible to a force sensitive in an elevator. He was still panting slightly when the lift opened on the primary parking level.

We can double date! Padme and I can host! I can help Mace and Jar-Jar plan their wedding! We can reform the order to allow for romantic love! I can be Jar-Jar’s best man! Padme and I can have another ceremony and Obi-Wan can give me away while Mace officiates and  and then we’ll all have sweesonbury cake and Jar-Jar can help teach our kids how to swim! 

With those dreamy thoughts running through his mind, it was child’s work to follow the the force to the unremarkable hovervan. He was humming to himself when Master Windu opened the door. 

He beamed at the older Jedi. Windu scowled in reply. Anakin smiled wider, unintimidated. He genuinely liked the Gungan, but anyone who could spend hours with Jar-Jar had to have a soft side.

“You know, Jar-Jar is a long time friend of Senator-”

“No.” Windu cut the eager words brusquely. 

Anakin shrank back, a little hurt.

(Maybe a lot hurt.)

Mace glanced over at the obviously crestfallen young General and sighed before amending his words.

“Not- Not right now, alright? Maybe if you’re miraculously more discrete about this than you are about your affection for Senator Amidala, then we can talk, understood?”

Anakin nodded with absolute determination, glimmering images of fairytale weddings visible once more. Distant, perhaps- but the chance was worth any amount of tongue biting. Now that there was a real, possible future where he could have it all, now that he knew Windu had a heart somewhere under his robes- he could be patient. 

He could be very patient.

Anakin calmed his grin down to a smaller, more Jedi-like smile, taking a sip of the cool but still really good caf. He channeled Obi-Wan’s most neutral diplomatic grace.

“Thank you for the ride, Master Windu. I appreciate it.”

Windu gave him an approving glance. “You’re more than welcome, Knight Skywalker.”

Feeling bold, he continued on with his best non-mocking impression of Obi-Wan.

"Have you had a chance to read the latest report on helmet redesigns? I think they might really improve peripheral vision without compromising concussive resistance.”

Mace hummed thoughtfully. “I have. I’m somewhat concerned about deploying such a radical change mid-campaign. Even better gear requires an adjustment period, and I’d rather minimize needless deaths while the troops readjust to hud flow.”

“Yes, that’s a reasonable concern, I was talking to Captain Rex-”

They spent the remainder of the flight chatting comfortably about troop safety and absentmindedly eating (or possibly stress eating in response to the prolonged absence of interpersonal conflict) the box of pastries Mace had picked up. When they arrived at the temple, they divvied up the remainder between them, quietly agreeing that there weren’t enough to share anyway. 

They continued their conversation, Master Windu accompanying him to the orbital loading bay. 

Obi-Wan rushed over in alarm at the sight of them approaching. “Anakin, there you are- I was starting to wonder if you’d make it. Terribly sorry Master Windu- I hope he wasn’t too much of a bother-”

“He’s not your padawan anymore, you don’t have to apologize for him. Though I do appreciate the reflex.”

“I suppose the concern isn’t completely baseless.” Anakin said, tone deliberately mildly. Mace chuckled slightly and Obi-Wan took a step back, slightly frightened by the sudden camaraderie. Anakin pretended to take a sip from his now empty disposamug to avoid fist pumping the air or cheering.

“I- Yes well- the important thing is you’re here in time for departure. What- what is that in the bag.”

Moment of Truth. Don’t freak out. Focus. Prove you can be discrete, THEN double dates, THEN Jedi Wedding Ceremony.

“Sweesonbury Roll,” Anakin answered placidly. He pretended to take another sip of caf. “Master Windu was kind enough to give me a ride from the bakery.”

“That’s- I’m sorry, what?” Anakin bit the inside of cheek to keep himself from reacting to Obi-Wan’s palpable bewilderment.

“I had to double back and get more, but we came straight here after,” Mace added helpfully, with zero hint of intentional mischief. “Oh and Skywalker- you can call me Mace if we’re not discussing temple business.”

Anakin SCREAMED (internally, of course). Outwardly, he simply bowed politely. “And you’re welcome to call me Anakin, of course.”

He deliberately avoided looking directly at Obi-Wan, his former Master’s bug-eyed reaction already pushing him to the edge, even just visible as it was out of the corner of his eye.

Windu nodded in return. “Safe travels you two. May the force with you.”

“And with you.” Anakin replied.

“May the force be with you,” Obi-Wan rushed to say, after a short delay.

Master Windu turned and exited the cargo bay doors. Anakin threw out the mug in a nearby bin, pulling out a roll and biting into it before turning to face Obi-Wan. They made eye-contact, each waiting for the other to break first. Usually that would be Anakin, but he had goals now. The Knight chewed. His Master’s eyes narrowed. The older man (who may have aged significantly in the last 5 minutes) finally broke.

“Who are you?”

Anakin just sighed, maintaining the Kenobi impression. “Come on Master, we don’t want to keep the troops waiting.” With that, he walked forward, hiding his smile as Obi-Wan followed closely at his heels. 

“Since when does my apprentice visit bakeries with Mace Windu?” Obi-Wan asked, almost desperately.

“You’re making it sound like a bigger deal than it is.” 

Master Kenobi sputtered as the pair opened the airlock for the short-range shuttle. 

Anakin mustered up an earnest smile. “Master? Would you mind flying- I’m still eating and-”

Obi-Wan made an incoherent noise of horrified outrage before fumbling for his communicator. 

“What are you doing?”

“NOTHING IS MAKING SENSE RIGHT NOW. EITHER YOU AND MACE NEED TO GO TO THE HEALING HALLS OR I DO!”

Anakin burst out laughing. “Relax Obi-Wan, I’m messing with you, holy shit. Obviously I’m flying.”

Obi-Wan slumped into the co-pilot seat, rubbing at his eyes. “Don’t do that Anakin! My nerves are stretched thin enough by the war as it is-”

“Sorry, Sorry!”

They strapped in and took off, Anakin still chuckling occasionally, Obi-Wan scowling in irritation each time. 

They ascended above the towering skyline alongside the first rays of sunlight.

“So you didn’t go to a bakery with Master Windu this morning?”

“Uhh-”

#star wars #my au #macenjar au #star wars au no 20 #crack treated seriously #mace windu #macenjar #ok i KNOW this is crack but i actually worked really hard on it and im very proud #so i would appreciate if you gave it a chance before forming judgements #NOTHING GRAPHIC OH MY GOD #star wars au #crack #crackship #anakin and padme wake up in bed together and have a married couple anidala conversation and then its PG after that i SWEAR #G RATED EVEN #Mace Windu and Anakin Skywalker #becoming friends is my comfort trope ok

[imagineyourworld]

Congrats on 100 followers! May I request Captain Rex with prompt 9 pretty please?? And could you make it a female senator reader?

Hey,

Thank you <3

Love, Charlie

-------

Rex x Fem!Senator!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of sex, drinking 

9. Friends with benefits

-------

Though you often fell asleep with Rex laying next to you, it was very rare that you woke up in the same position. Granted, it was earlier than you usually woke up and you had worn Rex out the night before, but it was still kinda strange. Still sleepy and wanting to stay in your warm bed for a moment longer you took your time to really look at Rex. Now that he was asleep the worry lines that often decorated his face were gone, replaced by an expression more peaceful than anything you had seen on his face so far. Gently you ran a finger across his jaw, over his cheeks and into his soft hair. It was a gesture you would never allow yourself if Rex were awake, too intimate for the arrangement the two of you had, but you couldn't help yourself. There was just something about Rex that made you want more. At first you had thought it was nothing but lust and desire, which is how the two of you ended up in your room after one of Senator Amidala's parties, but no matter how often the two of you had sex, you always wanted more, not just physically, the emotional bond you shared also grew stronger with every touch, every kiss, everytime he entered your body. Only when Rex began to stir in his sleep did you remove your hand. You got up and threw the robe that always hung on the back of your door over your naked body. As you made your way to the kitchen you found yourself wondering what Rex's favourite breakfast might be. Only then did it occur to you that the two of you had never shared breakfast before, if anything Rex downed a cup of caf while you were still waking up before he left your apartment. While you prepared a cup of caf for him and a cup of tea for you, you considered whether that was simply because he didn't want to invade your morning or if he didn't want to stay. If the latter was the case what you were doing now would be quite awkward, but for some reason you couldn't stop yourself from preparing two bowls of porridge with plenty of fresh fruit and honey and bringing them, as well as the drinks, into the bedroom where Rex was still sleeping. You sat the tray down on a dresser before making your way over to the sleeping Captain. "Rise and shine, sleepy head", you whispered against his lips before pressing a soft kiss to them, you then made your way down his jaw once again, pressing kisses on every inch of skin until Rex finally woke up. "Wha... Is this a dream?", he mumbled while slowly opening his eyes. You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. While you adored Rex when he pounded into you or when, like yesterday, he lay on your bed and let you do whatever you wanted, this was a new side of him you were quickly learning to appreciate. "If it is I hope it's a good one." Rex sat up and leaned his back against the headboard, allowing you to see the trail of hickeys and bites you had left on his hips where the blanket had ridden down. "The best, mesh'la." There he went again, calling you a nickname in Mando'a he knew you couldn't understand. It really was unfair, considering he had once made you swear to never look any of the terms up. "I brought you caf", you told him as you set the tray down on his lap before slipping into your side of the bed again. You looked at Rex with a bright smile on your face and a warmth in your cheeks, though both slowly began to fade as you noticed his frown. "Is that not... I'm sorry if I overstepped, it's just that we've never really discussed boundaries and I thought I kinda owed you after wearing you out yesterday", you began to ramble. Rex quickly shook his head, but before your smile could return he placed the tray on your lap and left the bed. Quicker than you would have thought possible he pulled on his underwear and blacks, followed by his armour. "I should go. I'll see you... sometime." Without another word or even a glance at you he left, only after he was long gone did you notice that he didn't even drink his caf.

-------

"Has anyone told you that you're really cranky tonight?", Cody asked his brother. Instead of answering Rex downed his shot and put the glass back on the table, the motion a bit too rough, which resulted in a low bang and Wolffe and Fox turning to look at him. In retrospect he should have known that this night out with the Commanders wouldn't go well, but they had been asking for ages now and he had been blowing them off to see you instead once too often. "He's right. Maybe you should find that pretty Senator of yours, I'm sure she could help with that", Wolffe said with a suggestive grin. The frown that now appeared on Rex's face could have given the grumpy Commander a run for his money. "I think it might be a little late for that", Fox told the others. "I saw her take Senator Jablish up to her apartment just two days ago, and based on the looks they've been shooting each other they did a lot more than talk about their new trade deal." No matter how hard Rex tried, he couldn't ignore the sting he felt at his brother's words. Of course you were free to do whatever you liked with whomever you liked, but he couldn't help but wonder whether you would have hooked up with someone else if he hadn't left in such a hurry the last time he saw you. Maybe, a hopeful voice in his head whispered, you felt the same as he did, maybe the breakfast had been your way of making a move. Though in that case he would have ruined way more than the chance to have sex with you again, he would have ruined the relationship of his dreams before it even had a chance to begin. "But can you blame her after what Rex did?", Fox continued. The blond suddenly looked up from the drink he had been staring at, his eyes shifted to his brother instead.  “What are you talking about?”  Fox shook his head at Rex’s question. “I’ve overheard her telling Senator Amidala that you practically ran out on her the one time she tried to make you stay. I guess she figured you weren’t interested.”  While Rex took a moment to process this new information, to realize that his hunch had been true and the breakfast actually had been your way of trying to add something more to your relationship, Wolffe raised an eyebrow at Fox’s words.  “You overheard? Just how exactly does one overhear something like that?”  Fox shrugged, but he didn’t have time to answer before Rex jumped up from his seat next to him and all eyes turned to him.  “I... I need to talk to (Y/N)”, he muttered more to himself than the others.  Cody, Wolffe and Fox all showed their approval in different ways, through slow nods, sly smirks and raised eyebrows, but Rex didn’t pay attention to that, instead he simply tossed a handful of credits, enough to cover not only his tab but everyone else’s as well, onto the table and hurried out of the clone bar. 

-------

You were surprised to hear a knock on your door this late at night, which is why you were extra careful when you pressed the button to the downstairs speaker and asked who it was.  “It’s Rex. Please, cyare, I need to talk to you. Please let me in.”  To say you were shocked would be an understatement. To be honest, you hadn’t expected to ever hear from Rex again, not after he had hurried out  without a proper goodbye.  “I... Rex, now might not be the best time”, you said, biting your lip and looking over your shoulder to where Kiile Jablish was sitting.  “Please, (Y/N), I really need to talk to you.”  Maybe it was because you had never heard your Captain sound like this, or maybe it was because Kiile being there would show him that you didn’t need him, which no matter how often you told yourself that wasn’t true. Whatever the reason, you pressed a button to open the door.  Only the blink of an eye later Rex stood in front of your apartment door, slightly out of breath as if he had sprinted up the stairs.  He didn’t hesitate to take your hands into his, and though, or maybe because, you felt that a big moment was about to come you gentle removed your hands from his grip and beckoned him inside.  You closed the door behind you and the second you turned around you realized the mistake you had made. Kiile was staring at you and Rex, his eyes wide and questions written in them. To be honest, the moment you had laid eyes on Rex you had forgotten that he was even in the room.  “Maybe I should... I’m gonna go”, Kiili said as he stood up. He quickly grabbed his coat from the back of your sofa and made his way to the door where you and Rex were still standing side by side. “I’ll see you tomorrow, (Y/N)”, he said, pressed a kiss to your cheek and hurried out of your apartment.  Slowly, as if the movement brought him great pain, Rex turned away from the spot Kiili had just been sitting in and faced you.  “So it’s true?”  You were well aware that Rex could probably read the confusion on your face like a book.  “What is?”  Rex sighed and motioned for you to sit down on your couch, which you instantly did. Partly because he had asked, but also because your legs were beginning to feel like rubber. Rex followed you, and though he sat down close to you, he kept more distance than he usually did.  “Are you sleeping with that Senator?”  The confusion vanished from your face and was soon replaced by hurt and anger. How dare he accuse you of replacing him just like that? Even if he didn’t know about your feelings for him, the two of you had been friends long before sex began to be part of your relationship and Rex should know that you didn’t just toss your friends out like that. And secondly, he was the one who had left, even if you were to replace him, it would be his own fault.  “No”, was all you said, your tone icy. But Rex didn’t mind that, he reached out to take your hands in his, gently stroking your knuckles before lifting a hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss on it.  “In that case there’s something I need to tell you. (Y/N), cyare, walking out on you was the worst decision I’ve ever made. I didn’t want to, not really, I just did it because... having breakfast with you, breakfast in bed nonetheless, seeing you with your hair still tangled up from sleep and that gorgeous early morning smile you have, I was afraid it would make me think that we were more, that I actually had a change of being with you, of you feeling the same way I do.”  You were speechless, but it turned out you didn’t even have to say anything, because after taking a deep breath Rex continued, his voice now a bit more shaky than before.  “I love you. I’m sorry it took me so long to say that, but I never thought you might feel the same way, you’re beautiful and smart and funny and the best thing that ever happened to me, I thought, still think to be honest, that there’s no way you feel the same. That’s the whole reason I even agreed to this friends with benefits thing, I thought it was the closest I could get to actually being with you, until my brother told me that the breakfast had been you way of telling me that you wanted more.” You knew it wasn’t the right moment, but you couldn’t help but laugh. How clueless the two of you were, what absolut idiots. With as much love as you could muster you mirrored Rex gesture from earlier by pressing a soft kiss on his hand, a gentle smile playing on your lips.  “Rex, you’re an idiot. We’re both idiots. The only reason I ever hooked up with you was because I thought you wouldn’t be interested in more, I’m not strong and badass, I’m not a solider, all I do is talk. But I love you too, I love you so much, my darling.”  Without further ado Rex leaned closer, let go of your hands and instead placed his own on your neck and waist to pull you even closer, before finally connecting his lips with yours. The kiss was softer, sweeter, than any the two of you had shared before, though it didn’t take long for it to become more heated. You put everything you could in your kiss, all the love, the longing, the pining and the desire. For a moment you thought that you must be dreaming, that is until Rex moved away a bit to catch his breath and whisper the most beautiful words you have ever heard once more.  “I love you”, he whispered, and you didn’t hesitate to echo his words. In fact, you lost count of how many times the two of you spoke those three simple words that night, and every night that followed. 

-------

This turned out to be a bit longer than anticipated, but I hope you don’t mind. 

#captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #captain rex x y/n #captain rex imagine #rex x reader #rex x you #rex x y/n #rex imagine

[icouldntfinditsoiwroteit]

What if the clones changed places with diferent battalions because of The Force shenanigans for one week?

501:

Rex: He gets sent to the 187th battalion of Mace Windu, he proceeds to have almos two heart attacks per day with Hardcase causing his usual caos, when he is not trying to prevent Harcase from painting Mace Windu’s robes blue he is chating with Ponds and taking any moment to try a recover their lost time and of course bitch about their Generals (I headcanon that Mace is just as much of a disasters as other Jedis, the diference is that he can hide it.)

Dogma: He gets sent to the Wolfpack battalion of Plo Koon, Dogma is almost shocked to death by how Plo Koon treats him and the other clones that where sent to his battalion, Plo Koon helps him understand that following orders without thinking about them is not the best thing to do, he surprisingly gets along with Comet and alongside with the CG commanders is babied and almost adopted by Plo Koon, when he learned about what the CG go trough he finally learned that people need to earn your loyallty and has sworn to do anything to help his brothers, no matter where they are from.

Tup: He gets sent to the Coruscant Guard, Tup sticks t Fives even more than before since they are in a unkown place for him, he also  tries to keep Fives from causing any more trouble and animosity between the CG and the 501th battalion than there already is, being court martialed because of painting Commander Cody’s armor pink, and of course half of the CG want to keep him when they see the cinamon roll that he is and how tired he ends because of Fives.

Fives: He gets sent to the Coruscant Guard, he is constantly stoped by Tup from doing almost anything fun, he gets along with Hound like there is no tomorrow, probably since Grizzer loves Fives and Fives isn’t scared of him, whne Fives is with Tup he has to basically prevent him form being kidnaped by half of the CG. “He Tup where are you going? Oh, I’m going to see what Spot wanted to show me earlier today.(Fives notices the badly hidden ropes of Spot) No your not(Fives picks Tup like a sack of potaoes) Fives what the kriff!, Tup is MY VOD and you can’t keep him!!!(Fives yells while being chased by Spot and other troopers)”

Echo: He gets sent to the 212th battalion of Obi Wan Kenobi, Echo isn’t that out of it in the 212th battalion since he and Fives where deployed with them a few times already, but he is going to lose it if he has to prevent someone being murdered by Sinker because they mocked his battallions name one more time or howled when he walked in. He has also learned that no matter where he goes a brother will take Five’s place and in this case Thorn is that brother.

Hardcase: He gets sent to the 187th battalion of Mace Windu, Hardcase decides to see how fast he can cause Rex to grow grey hairs and Ponds is a plus, especially since this is Mace Windu’s battalion, although poor Rex and Ponds have no idea that Mace is on it. “Hey Hardcase, whats that you’ve got?(Rex asks seing the suspicious bag Hardcase is carying) Coffe grains!!(Hardcase answeres befoere runnig of while munching some of them) Nooo!!!(Rex remembering what happened last time Hardcase had one caf runs after him, willing to stun him and ignoring the rest of the men in the room laughing.) (In the mean time Mace is hiding his amused laugh after he gave Harcase the coffe grains.)”

212:

Cody: He gets sent to the Coruscant Guard, Cody takes the time he has and sleeps like he has never slept before, at the start he helped Fives to keep the CG from stealing Tup, since he knows how it feels that the CG is trying to steal one of his shiny vod, after Fives tried to paint his armor pink, he stoped and decided to enjoy Five’s suffering.

Longshot: He gets sent to the 501th battalion of Anakin Skywalker, Longshot and Jesse are Kix’s new nightmare, since they also decided that making Wolfee’s comn to howl like a wolf.

Boil: He gets sen to the Wolfpack battalion of Plo Koon, Boil wonders if the universe entertaines itself with his suffering, because from all the vod he had to love it had to be Waxer and from all the existing battalions they could magically apear on it was Plo “I adopt any living creature that barely breathes in my direction” Koon, although he isn’t as against at the idea of finding Numa as he says he is, and Waxer knows it. He was one of the troopers that helpes Stone in making Fox rest, it’s the least he can do after he learned what they go trough.

Waxer: He gets sen to the Wolfpack battalion of Plo Koon, Waxer and Plo get along to a scary level, multiple troopers have to restrain him phisically and distracting Plo long enough that they can’t go in a journey across the galaxy in search for Numa. He also discovered what the CG go trough and felt ashamed of what he thought of hi brothers before, he alongside Boil have decided to spread this information, to at least make sure that their brothers have more support.

104 Wolfpack:

Wolfee: He gets sent to the 501th battalion of Anakin Skywalker, Wolfee thanks the universe for assigning him to General Plo “Coff Coff Buir”, instead of the walking disaster that Skywalker is and at the same time begs the universe for patience in order to prevent himself from murdering any other Vod that makes his comn howl or any joke about wolf in his presence, even if it’s Commander Ashoka or how General Buir calls her “Little Soka”.

Boost: He gets sent to the 187th battalion of Mace Windu, Boost is having the time of his life alongside Waxer and to his shock General Windu, by giving early grey hair to Captain Rex and Commander Ponds, this may seem cruel to some and even to him at the start, but when he learned that General Windu was doing this in order to boost the rest of his men morale after a really hard capaing he was sold, besides some humor never hurt anyone, right?

Sinker: He gets sent to the 212th battalion of Obi Wan Kenobi, General Kenobi is not a bad Jedi and by all means he thinks he enjoys the chats he has with the Jedi but may the universe have mercy on the next fool who makes a joke about his battalion’s name or howls while he enters the room, he doesn’t care about the consequences and fortunately Echo has prevented a lot of bloodshed caused by his hands, he hopes that when he’s back with the Wolfpack the ARC gets deployed with them more often, he likes him.

Coruscant Guard:

Fox: He gets sen to the Wolfpack battalion of Plo Koon, Fox apreciates the Jedi, since he ans his men don’t have on he had no idea what to expect and lets say that Skywalker didn’t give him high expectations and since he can’t do his paperwork he was cuddled to death by stone and by a few other brothers that learned of how they are treated in Coruscant. Plo has to be stoped by the Wolfpack who fake injuries in order to prevent the Jedi from storming the Senate, when he found out of how the CG are treated one didn’t need the force in order to feel the bloodlust in the man, and even if the Wolfpack shared this feeling they can’t let their Jedi be acused of treason..

Stone: He gets sen to the Wolfpack battalion of Plo Koon, he is thankfull to any force in the universe for giving him this time to finally force Fox to sleep, since Thorn isn’t here it’s his duty to care for the di’kut he calls a vod and commander. He didn’t cry when the Wolfpack as a whole decided that the CG needed help, he really didn’t, it was just a bit of dirt in his eyes, but having brothers outside of the CG watching his back is conforting, and Fox won’t admit it but they have a soft spot for Dogma.

Thorn: He gets sent to the 212th battalion of Obi Wan Kenobi, he want’s to help Sinker with a bunch of his plans to make the 212th suffer except for Wooley, Wooley is nice, fortunately for the 212th Echo stops Sinker most of the time and the poor ARC looks so tired of it, so Thorn has decided to help him around, he remember one time Fox talked about the time he worked with the ARC and another one named Fives, Fox saud that Thorn where painfully similar and may or may not have admited to have liked working with him, “but you didn’t hear that form him alright Echo? Echo? Wait you recorded it, no stop Fox will murder me!! (Proceeds to run after a cackling Echo)”. 

Thire: He gets sent to the 501th battalion of Anakin Skywalker, he is not surprised at all when he see’s the daily disasters that happen on Torrent, and even if Commander Tano and General Skywalker are fun to be around, he can see where the battalion got the recklesnes from and he will feel no regret when Rex comes back and he is back on coruscant.

#Clone Wars #coruscant guard #wolfpack #501st battalion #commander cody #commander fox #commander thire #commander thorn #commander stone #captain rex #arc fives #arc echo #commander wolffe #dogma #sinke #boost #hardcase #waxer #boil #longshot #tup #force shenanigans #212th battalion

[oo-hazel-oo]

The Lucky Batch

hey y’all! i’ve been working on this for a hot minute — turns out i am incapable writing anything shorter than 5,000 words, so sorry in advance for how long this got. a huge thank you to @cosmicghostie for being the ultimate writer's cheerleader and to the rest of the lucky batch for giving me such amazing characters to work with! you all genuinely brighten my day, so i hope this brightens yours! ♥︎

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lucky: a few days in the life of Clone Force 37’s unofficial therapist

content warnings: blood/injury, weapon use, lots of emotional distress (but also some fluff to make up for it!!)

Thumbs didn’t know when he had become Clone Force 37’s unofficial therapist. It just kinda happened.

His original role as the squad’s battle strategist shifted after he realized that his usual skill-set wouldn’t be helpful to a squad who typically threw strategy out the window.

Yet even without a set strategy, the unconventional group somehow had a relatively high success rate when it came to their missions. Thumbs had assumed it was their unpredictability that gave them an advantage. Or the fact that each of them had unique abilities, unlike any soldiers he had ever met.

However, the longer he was with Clone Force 37, the more he started to notice just how special his batch-mates were.

The twins, Foxy and Pepper, had caught his attention first. Both were skilled in their own ways, but what stood out to Thumbs was how each was fiercely protective of the other. He wasn’t sure what the pair had gone through to end up on the Clover, but he couldn’t help but notice the weight of Foxy’s quiet around strangers or the subtle promise behind each sticker that Pepper placed. Thumbs knew more than anyone, love was always accompanied by fear.

He saw this fear in Master Kenhla, every time she glanced towards the two padawans she had come to mentor. Despite her powerful posture, Thumbs could see how she carried the galaxy on her shoulders; not so that she could manage more, but so her brothers could bear less.

Brothers like Rane and Skip, who had lost everything, everyone, before finding their place with the Lucky Batch. Or Sparks and Ryder, both of whom blamed themselves for tragedies of the past.

They all had lost so much… Yet, by some miracle, they had found each other.

Thumbs would do anything to make sure it stayed that way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This particular day had started normally, which for Thumbs meant wincing as three screaming forms barreled towards where he sat knitting at the back of the ship. He set his needles down, knowing he would not be getting back to work anytime soon.

“Here we go,” he mumbled under his breath as his batchmates shouted from across the hull.

“THUMBS!!!”

The small stampede, which was revealed to be Sparks, Ballast, and Luna, raced towards him, each one attempting to outpace the other.

“Oh Maker, Ballast, what did you do?”

The batcher in question skidded to a stop, mock-offense written across his face. “I didn’t-”

Thumbs gave each of his batch-mates a once-over, scanning them for injuries. “Should I get Pepper? Is anyone hurt?”

“Not yet,” the two mechanics both mumbled under their breath.

Thumbs sighed in equal parts relief and exhaustion. Ballast and Sparks had been ‘friendly’ rivals for as long as he had known the pair. Unfortunately for him, their rivalry often extended outside the realm of mechanics and into the everyday affairs of the Lucky Batch, with Thumbs usually acting as the chosen mediator of these disagreements.

Sparks pointed at Ballast, pleading his case. “He ate all the cookies Jack made me!”

“You’re overreac-”

“And drank all my caf.”

Now Thumbs understood the near-murderous look on Sparks’ face.

His brother had always done so much for the batch and asked for very few things in return, one of those things being his morning cups of caf: a simple but necessary pleasure that allowed him to function throughout the day.

Thumbs brought his attention back to the pair in front of him, wondering whose word to trust more. Then he brought his gaze down, to a much more reliable source.

“Luna, what happened?”

The padawan looked up nervously, her eyes partially hidden behind choppy bangs. Thumbs smiled when he noticed she was wearing the mittens he had knit for her. He had originally made pairs for both her and Brisk while they were stationed on a colder planet, but now Luna liked to wear them for fun, claiming they made her look like an ewok.

The young girl shrunk from the attention that was suddenly on her, moving closer to Ballast’s side.

“I…”

“What happened is he drank all my caf.” Sparks stepped forward, jabbing another accusatory finger towards Ballast. “The caf that prevents me from strangling my brothers when they get on my nerves.”

Thumbs spoke up, attempting to diffuse the rising hostility. “I thought you didn’t even like caf, Ballast. I always see you drinking that tea Jackal likes.”

The mechanic shifted on his feet nervously. “Well, I…”

Thumbs looked towards his brother curiously, confused by his sudden change in demeanor. Something about the whole dispute seemed off, almost like Ballast was covering for someb-

“Wait,” a small voice piped up from behind the three brothers. “B-Ballast didn’t take your caf, I did.”

“You-” Sparks spun towards the voice with an instinctive glower before recognizing its source. His features softened almost instantly. “What?”

Luna shrugged sheepishly. “I wanted to see if it was good… It was! And Master Ken said I was exceptionally energetic during our training afterwards.”

Thumbs fixed his gaze on Sparks expectantly, curious how he would react to the young batcher’s confession.

“I’m sorry,” she continued, wringing her mittened hands. “I know I should’ve asked.”

Sparks cleared his throat awkwardly as he waved off her apology. “No, it’s uh... It’s fine.”

Luna’s expression remained uncertain and Ballast elbowed Sparks in the side, urging him to reassure the young girl.

“Really, I mean... I shouldn’t even be drinking that much anyway,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck guiltily.

Ballast grinned at Sparks, eating up the moment.

Thumbs couldn’t help the smirk that crept onto his own face as well. For a squad of soldiers who had fought countless battles and overcome powerful enemies, they sure did surrender fast when it came to their padawans. No one onboard the Clover was immune to their effortless charm.

Luna eventually looked up at Thumbs, seeking his own approval, which he happily granted with an encouraging thumbs up.

There was a welcome moment of silence before Sparks’ head jerked upwards once more.

“Wait, what about my cookies?”

“Hmm...” Ballast looked to the floor dramatically, feigning deep thought. “You mean the chocolate chunk cookies with sea salt and a fine caramel drizzle?” He smirked before continuing. “I have no idea.”

Sparks took two threatening steps towards Ballast and within seconds the two of them were chasing each other throughout the Clover with Luna giggling in their wake.

For the clones, who quite literally were forced to grow up too fast, the padawans’ presence reminded them of what a childhood should be. It kept them grounded, desperate to preserve that feeling for the young girls for as long as they could. And if that meant that Luna could get away with stealing Spark’s caf, then so be it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That evening’s supply trip was supposed to be easy. A quick in and out operation to gather necessary materials for the coming weeks. But it had already been three hours since Ballast, Sparks, and Foxy’s expected return and no one on the Clover had received an update on their whereabouts.

Thumbs wasn’t someone who paced often. While the rest of the galaxy seemed to be in constant motion, Thumbs always tried his best to remain still at its center. But the longer he waited for his batchmates’ return, the more he felt like he was spinning off his axis, unable to stop the repetitive trajectory of his feet throughout the hull.

He wasn’t even aware of his own movements until they were interrupted by the sound of distant yelling. Strained shouts echoed from outside the Clover’s walls, nearly imperceptible amidst the intensifying wind. Their tone, panicked and desperate, was more bone-chilling than the rain that had started to fall around them.

Storms had always scared Thumbs. He hated seeing flashes of lightning, understanding that the explosion of thunder would follow, but never knowing when. Deep down he knew that thunder was harmless, that lightning posed the greater threat, but at least it was quick, unexpected, gone in a flash. Thunder was slow, deafening, inevitable.

When the Clover’s ramp finally lowered to reveal a bloodied Sparks cradled in Ballast’s arms, he knew that the lightning had passed.

This was the thunder.

Thumbs watched in silence as his brothers stumbled into the hull of the ship, a trail of mud and blood left in their wake. Ballast and Foxy eased Sparks onto the closest bunk, removing his armor to better assess the injury. Luna and Brisk dashed into the room, their eyes widening at the horrific sight. Luna’s breaths came in labored bursts as she called for Pepper, tears streaming down her face.

The squad’s medic came running, following the worried gaze of the two young girls who stood near the bunks. He spared a brief glance at Foxy before quickly donning a pair of gloves and shouting orders to nearby batch-mates. Hearing the commotion, Master Kenhla arrived and immediately ushered her padawans out of the room, not wanting them to witness the sight of their brother in pain.

While before Thumbs had been unable to sit still, now he felt frozen, cold as the ice on Hoth. His brothers were right in front of him, yet he felt as if he were watching the scene unfold from millions of miles away.

He kept thinking back to that morning — Sparks had been fine, albeit cranky over his lack of caf, and now…

Thumbs hated it. He hated how things could change so quickly.

He watched as Ballast, usually explosive in his mannerisms, now held Sparks’ hand in his own, whispering words of comfort as his brother lay motionless on the cot.

Thumbs suddenly felt sick to his stomach, a shrill ringing filling the air around him. The echoes of a memory that had been stagnant for years, forced into the depths of his mind, suddenly emerged:

An argument, a battle, another brother gone. A hand desperately squeezing his own before going limp, devoid of all life.

Another hand, this one from the present, landed on his shoulder, dragging him out of one nightmare and into another. A voice was speaking, asking if he was alright, telling him to sit down.

Thumbs’ guilt only increased. Hands that should be helping his fallen brother were instead on his own shoulders, urging him towards the nearest seat. He shrugged them off with an uncharacteristic roughness, finally taking a few shaky steps towards Sparks.

He had almost made it to the bunk when the same pair of arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him back.

“Thumbs, stop,” the voice urged. “You need to let Pepper help him. There’s nothing you can do.”

He knew the words were supposed to be comforting. He had spoken the same ones to almost every soldier who had come to him burdened with the invisible weight of survivor’s guilt. Sometimes it was what they needed to hear; other times, it wasn’t.

The last thing Thumbs saw was an oxygen mask being lowered onto his brother’s face before eventually succumbing to the arms around him, letting himself be removed from the scene.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Thumbs woke up the next morning with a headache.

Foxy, who had been the one to escort him out of the room the night before, filled him in on what had happened during the supply run.

Apparently as the trio had made their way back to the ship, bandits had intercepted them. The ragtag group of thieves were lacking in both numbers and artillery and hadn’t been particularly difficult to subdue. Sparks had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, caught in the unforgiving crossfire of a supply trip gone wrong.

Thumbs wished he had been there. Maybe then he could’ve shouted to his brother in warning or pulled him out of harm’s way. Stars, he would’ve jumped in front of the deathly bolt himself if it meant Sparks was still standing at the end of the day.

The two of them had grown close over the past few months, especially after Thumbs learned the story behind Sparks’ name. He could tell that his brother’s outwardly gruff attitude was just a shield used to protect the sensitive, guilt-ridden soldier beneath. Even one offhand criticism of his work as a mechanic could bring him back to the accident and a past he wished desperately to forget.

Because of this, Sparks would often work through the night, losing himself in the wires and circuits of the ship to ensure he didn’t make the same mistake twice. Thumbs was always at his side reminding him to take breaks, to drink water when he was thirsty, to eat when pangs of hunger hit...

But there was little he could do for Sparks now as he lay unconscious in the hull of the Clover.

Pepper had done everything he could, luckily managing to stabilize their brother within a few hours of the incident. Sparks was slowly showing signs of improvement — he had even woke up briefly in the early hours, mumbling something about watering Percy, before slipping back into the depths of unconsciousness.

Percy was the name of one of Sparks’ plants, something Thumbs discovered after walking in on his brother affectionately repotting it in a moment of assumed privacy.

He smiled at the memory, shaking his head in disbelief. It was just like Sparks to be worried about keeping his plants alive while he was barely clinging to life himself.

With nothing to do but wait until his brother woke up, Thumbs made his way into the hull of the ship where he found most of the batch engaged in a lively game of Dejarik. It was a tradition, meant to keep the batches' spirit alive when faced with tough times.

He almost started towards them when he felt a presence to his left, distanced from the laughter of the others.

Thumbs’ gaze landed on Ryder as he stared out of the cockpit window absent-mindedly, though he knew from his expression that his mind was anything but absent.

Thumbs approached slowly, not wanting to startle the squad’s weapons specialist.

“Hey Ry, you alright?”

Ryder glanced up, a flash of surprise illuminating his expression, before looking back down, his face once again shrouded in darkness.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” A barrage of laughter sounded from the other side of the room, where everyone was still gathered. “Think I’m gonna go for a ride though.”

“Oh, okay…” Thumbs replied, wanting to say more to his obviously-distracted brother. “Mind if I tag along?”

“You always do,” Ryder said, shooting him a small smirk.

“Hey!” Thumbs laughed, punching his shoulder lightly.

Ryder chuckled, nodding for Thumbs to follow him to the far corner of the hull. Once there, he opened the weapons cabinet, extracting a couple blasters and holstering them on his form.

Thumbs looked at his brother questioningly.

“Just in case,” Ryder said, carefully checking over his chosen artillery.

Thumbs nodded quickly, admonishing himself for not thinking more practically, especially after what happened with Sparks. It was a dangerous thing to give the galaxy the benefit of the doubt.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The planet they were currently docked on was beautiful. The hues of its rolling hills were softened by the dying light, the gentle breeze transforming the tall grasses into golden waves. The sky’s colors evolved with each passing minute, all evidence of the previous night’s storm lost to its changing shades.

It was Thumb’s favorite time of day. At dusk the light never seemed harsh; it was sympathetic, understanding. It hovered, never fully settling, like a cloud. But dusky light was also ephemeral. Thumbs wished he could freeze it, trap it in a jar and release it when he needed its soft companionship.

He knew too many people like dusk: perfect, until they were gone.

“It’s pretty here,” Thumbs eventually broke the silence, a welcome distraction from his own thoughts.

“Yeah,” Ryder replied as his eyes traced the horizon, “It is.”

“That why you’ve been coming out here so often?”

Thumbs knew his brother liked to take his speeder out on rides whenever he needed a break from the confines of the Clover. He would even accompany him from time to time. But recently he had been escaping much more frequently and Thumbs couldn’t help but worry that something else was going on.

Ryder chuckled lowly. “I didn’t think anyone noticed.”

“Hey, you’re kinda hard not to notice.” Thumbs smirked, gesturing a hand towards his brother’s head: “Ya know, cause of the hair.”

Ryder grinned, blowing a stray strand out of his face. “Yeah, sure thing curly.”

Thumbs ran a hand through his own coily locks with a shy shrug.

The two brothers fell into a comfortable silence as fireflies blinked to life around them. Thumbs pretended they were shooting stars, closing his eyes and wishing for the speedy recovery of Sparks back onboard the Clover.

After a while, the air seemed to become heavy and Thumbs could tell that Ryder needed to get something off of his chest.

His suspicion was confirmed when he heard his brother sigh deeply, preparing to speak.

“Lately…” he started, tugging on the end of his turquoise braid. “I’ve been thinking a lot.”

Thumbs nodded and moved to sit beside him in a subtle gesture of comfort.

“About them?”

Ryder nodded, knowing Thumbs was referencing his past squad.

“I’ve been having the dreams again.”

Thumbs’ face fell. He remembered the night he found out about Ryder’s nightmares as if it were yesterday.

He had been awake in the hull of the ship, too afraid that something bad might happen if he allowed himself the privilege of closing his eyes. Ryder had started tossing in his sleep, muttering the names and numbers of unfamiliar clones. Thumbs shook his brother awake, eventually guiding him outside of the ship when he struggled to regain his breath. The two of them had sat on the Clover’s ramp until long after the sun rose, each finding comfort in the other’s presence.

Since then, the nightmares had decreased, but every now and again they would return. The guilt would return.

“In the dream, I’m back on the venator,” Ryder described, his voice hoarse. “First there’s the flashing lights. Then voices, their voices, but they eventually fade away and then there’s just static. For a moment, everything is quiet, just a faint buzzing...”

Thumbs gave his brother’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, letting him know he was still there, still listening.

“And then I’m in the escape pod. As I’m drifting away, I look back towards the ship, but it’s not the venator anymore. It’s the Clover.”

He paused, swallowing thickly.

“And then it’s just gone. Swallowed by fire.”

The unsettling images unearthed feelings that Thumbs never had the courage to voice out loud, but the anxious thrumming of Ryder’s fingers on the side of the speeder reminded him of his current task: to show his brother that he was there for him now, regardless of what happened in the past.

“Ry, I know there’s not a lot I can say. But know that they would’ve been so proud of you, of the soldier and brother you’ve become,” Thumbs reassured gently. “We all are.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Ryder mumbled.

Thumbs frowned, knowing his brother wasn’t convinced.

“Well, this was supposed to be a surprise, but it looks like you need it now.”

Thumbs pulled out the pack he had brought with him, rifling through it until he found a small bundle. He nervously presented it to Ryder, who observed the way it had been carefully packaged in colorful gift wrap and adorned with stickers, most likely donated by Pepper.

“I made this for you,” Thumbs spoke as Ryder opened the parcel. “It’s a blanket, obviously, but it’s… Well, it’s got a little more to it than that. Each row of stitches is made of yarn from all the different places we’ve been to as a batch. Thought it could be cool to see how far we’ve all come. But I also know how important it is to you that we honor our pasts, so down here,” Thumbs pointed at the bottom left corner, “I stitched in the names of CT-2019 and CT-1882. And over here is General Lyle’s.”

Thumbs looked up at Ryder, trying to gauge his reaction.

“I know it doesn’t change anything, not really, but I thought maybe it could help you sleep at night.”

There was a long moment of silence as Thumbs began to doubt the impact of his gift. The whole idea was starting to sound stupid now. Maybe if he had-

“I… Thank you, Thumbs.” Ryder finally spoke, his voice cracking slightly. “Really. It’s- It’s perfect.”

Thumbs grinned, glad to see the glimmer of hope return to his brother’s eyes. “Of course, anything for my vod.”

Ryder held the blanket close, tracing his finger over the carefully stitched names of his old squad. His eyes scanned over the various colors and textures that Thumbs had incorporated, recognizing yarn from planets they hadn’t been to in years. How long had his brother been working on this?

He was just about to ask when a subtle movement drew his own gaze downwards. Thumbs was quietly bouncing his right leg, a nervous habit that Ryder had picked up on throughout their time together. He doubted that Thumbs was even aware of his own anxious mannerism, but Ryder could tell that something was on his mind.

“Hey, vod?” Ryder placed the blanket down, his focus now on his brother.

“Yeah?” Thumbs replied, still staring straight ahead.

Ryder thought back to something his companion had told him just moments ago, something that had made him feel important, valuable, seen.

“People notice you too.”

 Thumbs chuckled, thinking back to when he invited himself to join Ryder on his impromptu speeder trip just hours before. “Yeah, I guess my constant pestering makes it hard not to.”

“Yeah...” Ryder continued, almost hesitantly. It would be harder getting through to his brother than he thought. “But we also notice why you do that.”

“And why’s that?” Thumbs asked casually, not quite sure where Ryder was guiding the conversation.

“Because you care.”

At this, Thumbs finally met his brother’s eyes, confusion painting his features. The words were simple, yet something about them did not fully compute.

“No matter how many idiotic things we pull, you’re always there for us.”

Thumbs held his brother’s gaze, considering his words intently, before looking down to his feet. He frowned before mumbling something, barely audible above the light breeze:

“Not when it counts.”

The words sliced through the air, contrary to the soft tone in which they were spoken. Ryder couldn’t help the immediate snap of his head towards his brother.

“What do you-”

“Yesterday, with Sparks,” Thumbs interjected, his voice gaining strength. “No amount of pestering could’ve helped him.”

There was something about the way Thumbs was speaking — something that Ryder had missed before, something familiar — that was unravelling with each passing moment.

“But he’s okay now, he’s fine,” Ryder tried to console, his brow furrowed.

Thumbs scoffed. “That was just luck. I heard what Pepper said: If his injury had been just an inch to the left…” He ran a hand through his hair frustratedly.

“Well, luck is kinda our thing,” Ryder said, repeating words that Pepper had spoken to him when he first joined the batch.

“But I don’t want it to be!”

Ryder looked up in shock. In the entire time he had known Thumbs, he had never once heard him raise his voice. But shock soon turned to concern when he noticed the tears streaming down his brother’s face.

“I don’t want to rely on luck,” Thumbs choked out, his voice softening. “Not… not when it comes to the people I care about.”

Helplessness.

Ryder was well-acquainted with the feeling — the image of his former general on the other side, the wrong side, of an escape pod window, forever etched into his memory. He tried to think of something to say that could comfort his brother, but the only words that came to mind were the ones Thumbs had already spoken to him moments before.

The whole batch knew that Thumbs had always struggled to take his own advice and that reminding him to do so never seemed to have an effect. It was unusual to see him in such a vulnerable state, something the former-strategist was well aware of as he avoided his brother’s gaze, shame written across his tear-stained features.

Ryder cringed at the sight, knowing he would need to take a more unconventional approach to offer his brother reassurance, one that would hopefully provide him with a fragment of control in a galaxy that seemed to feed on chaos.

Ryder nodded once, steeling himself, before reaching down and pulling his twin blasters out of their respective holsters.

“You know,” he started, attempting to keep his voice level, “I got these from CT-2019 and CT-1882. They were graduation gifts.”

Thumbs turned his head curiously, wiping away a stray tear in the process. A small part of him fought back the urge to smile: unlike his brother, he had been given craft supplies and a book for graduation.

“I could teach you how to shoot ‘em, if you want.”

Thumbs looked towards his brother incredulously.

“Ry, I’ve shot a blaster before...”

Ryder exhaled breathily, a playful grin gracing his features. “Ah, not ones like these. These here are DC-17 hand blasters.” He held his weapons in front of himself reverently. “They’re more powerful than your standard blaster, more efficient too.”

Thumbs hesitated, his confusion at the sudden shift in topic still evident, before nodding slowly.

“Alright, sure.”

Ryder spent the next few minutes guiding Thumbs through the best way to handle the blasters — helping him correct his stance, improve aim, and prepare for recoil. The process was strangely reassuring, giving Thumbs something tangible to hold onto, something he could control.

“Hey, Ryder?” Thumbs asked, looking down at the weapon in his hands, the echoes of its former owners serving as a comforting reminder that those who were gone could still protect their brothers who lived to fight another day. Maybe when Thumbs was gone, he could do the same.

“Thank you.”

Ryder had just begun to respond when a noise sounded from behind them.

Thumbs startled and spun on his heel, impulsively throwing the first thing he could think of towards the nearby bushes: Ryder’s blaster.

He mentally facepalmed as his brother jumped off of the speeder, aiming his remaining blaster towards the sound. He held out a hand as he crept closer to the bushes, silently telling Thumbs to stay back.

A tense moment passed, before a tooka revealed itself from behind the bush.

Thumbs sighed in relief before looking up at Ryder guiltily.

“Probably not the best use of the blaster,” he said with a cringe.

“What, you wanted to shoot it?” Ryder questioned breathlessly, a smirk growing across his features.

“No, of course not!” Thumbs smiled, relieved that his brother didn’t seem upset over his moment of panic. The tooka sauntered up to him, rubbing its head against his legs.

Ryder retrieved the discarded blaster and walked back towards the speeder, the remnants of a smirk still visible on his face. “Well, looks like good things can come from bad luck.”

“Yeah,” Thumbs huffed, looking down at the small animal by his feet. “Guess so.”

And maybe that’s what Clone Force 37 was: a group of outcasts who were all in the process of turning their histories with bad luck into good things — good luck.

“C’mon, hop up,” Ryder said as held out an arm. “Let’s get back to the ship.”

Thumbs let himself be pulled into the speeder, the firm grip of his brother’s hand a silent reassurance: I’m here for you.

He leaned back, his eyes reflecting the stars that had started to appear above. He wondered how many of them he couldn’t see, how many millions of lives were being lived just out of his view.

Thumbs glanced over to the brother at his side, thinking about how lucky he was to have crossed paths with him, with all of them, in a universe of infinite proportions.

“We should probably pick up some caf for Sparks on the way back… I know he’ll want some when he wakes up,” Thumbs spoke, laying all the way back in the speeder.

Ryder nodded in agreement as they lurched forward. The sun had finally disappeared from view and the two soldiers soon became mere silhouettes against the dimming night sky.

But anyone familiar with Clone Force 37 knew that they were so much more than two small blips on the horizon:

They were brothers.

And Thumbs was positive that nothing in the galaxy could ever change that.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

@the-lucky-batch @lavenderstaars @lynnpaper @foxlock @maygalodon @mango-peachjuice @radbatch @letsunity @burnthashbrown27 @generaltano @catboy-tech @cosmicghostie @namesmox @monako-jinn-stories @longearedowlfromouterspace @lusiawonder @just-another-dreamerr

#the lucky batch #clone force 37 #fam force 37 #cf37 thumbs #cf37 sparks #cf37 ryder #cf37 ballast #cf37 luna #cf37 foxy #cf37 pepper #cf37 kenhla #cf37 brisk

[gloomybabygirl]

{angel pt. 1} Poe Dameron x reader

A/N: My very first fic! I’m in the process of an outline for a series but I wanted to get myself warmed up with some drabbles hehe. Pls be gentile, I am a baby writer!

Warnings: language?, mutual pining, shirtless Poe

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: You need to sleep in Poe’s quarters when yours floods. Basically a super fluffy little drabble. 

Update: read part 2 here :)

It had already been a long day when you got to the door to your quarters. 

You had been awake for an ungodly amount of time, having spent the last 22 hours in command with General Organa, strategising and planning for the next few missions. You had no problem fighting off fatigue for the greater good of the galaxy though. And you would never dream of telling the General you needed a break. Working for the Resistance was an honor in itself, but working in command to help keep everyone on the front lines safe? You had no idea how you got so lucky to be trusted with such an important position. 

And even luckier to have Poe Dameron, the greatest pilot in the galaxy, as your best friend. 

Okay, so Poe may have been a damn good pilot. You would never tell him that to his face though. Being one of the most charismatic people on base, Poe had made friends with you in your first week working for the Resistance. You hadn’t exactly intended to develop totally unrealistic feelings for him (during a war no less) but how could you not fall for Poe Dameron? When he wasn’t teasing you or making you cry with laughter, he was the sweetest, most caring, passionate man you’d ever met. 

Maybe you were in love with him, whatever. 

In the course of the 22 hours you were working in the Command Center, Poe had brought you food, caf, and BB-8 to keep you going. He had a lot of respect for anyone working in command to keep him and his fellow pilots safe. He’d bring anyone coffee, wouldn’t he? Of course, because Poe is the sweetest. The sweetest man that you could not have feelings for. 

General Organa finally let you go when you had been staring at your data pad for several minutes without retaining any information. BB-8 rolled along side you down the hall, beeping impatiently when you were walking to your quarters too slowly for his liking. When you finally dragged yourself to your door, you could practically taste sleep. Until your door slid open and you felt something cold and wet hit your foot.

Water? Why was there water on your floor? 

Oh, it was no big deal, just that your refresher had flooded and now everything you owned was drenched or floating aimlessly around the room. The sweet idea of sleep drifted away the further you examined the state of this disaster. 

Finally, a maintenance droid came and fixed the leak in your refresher. But that didn’t help the fact that your quarters were unlivable, and there was no way in hell you were taking care of the water issue tonight. BB-8 nudged you, beeping, and forced you to look down at him. 

“He’s probably already asleep. I don’t want to bother him.” 

More insistent beeping and nudging from the little droid.

“Okay! Okay, but if he’s mad we woke him, I’m blaming you.” Happy beeps.

BB-8 was right. You really had no where else to sleep and no one else that would be okay with you sleeping in their quarters. You had slept in Poe’s room before, and he in yours, after a long night of talking or playing Sabacc. Nothing ever happened, in fact there was always one party sleeping on the floor. You hoped Poe wouldn’t be too mad at you waking him up once you explained the situation. You knocked, softly as to not wake him too harshly.

The door swung open, and your heart melted. A very sleepy, disoriented, shirtless Poe was standing in the door looking down at you with his eyes barely open and his dark, curly hair sticking up in all directions. 

“Y/N? What time is it? What are you doing here?” Maker, that groggy, low voice made your knees buckle. 

“I’m so sorry to wake you but my refresher flooded and I have no where to sleep. BB-8 suggested I crash here.”

“Oh shit, yeah of course, come in. Good call BB, we wouldn’t want Y/N to be homeless for the night.”  He wasn’t mad. Thank the Maker. “I’ll just go grab an extra pillow and sleep on the floor. Do you need anything?” He asked. 

“I’m fine, really. And I can sleep on the floor. You were already sleeping comfortably in your bed I’m sure.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, beautiful angels don’t sleep on the floor.” What did he just call you? Poe never talked to you like that. Sure, he flirted, this is Poe Dameron we’re talking about. But you had just assumed that was how he was with everyone. He had probably only said that because the poor man was still half asleep and didn’t know what was coming out of this mouth. He left his quarters to find more bedding, which would probably be stolen from Finn’s room.

While he was gone you realized you didn’t have anything to change into, and you seriously didn’t want to sleep in your work clothes, especially since you had been wearing them for 24 hours. Poe wouldn’t miss one of his shirts, would he? Apparently not, since the flyboy didn’t seem to enjoy wearing them to bed. 

You undressed quickly, in case he came back, and grabbed one of his t-shirts off the floor. It must have been the one he was wearing that day, but you didn’t care in your sleepy state. When you slipped it on, you were immediately greeted by the smell of aftershave, coffee, and leather. Poe. 

You were practically dead on your feet at this point, so you crawled into his bed, not bothering to wait for Poe’s return to start drifting off to sleep. Once under his covers, you were overwhelmed with his scent and with the feeling of happiness and security. You’d never been more comfortable sleeping in Resistance-issued sheets. It wasn’t long before you felt your eyelids closing and felt yourself slowly slipping into a long overdue sleep. In fact, you didn’t hear the door open and close just minutes later, already fast asleep in Poe’s bed. 

“Finn gave me some extra bedding so I’ll be fine on the floor. Well, “gave” is a strong word. I sorta-” He cut himself off when he spotted a sweet angel sleeping in his bed. He laughed to himself, thinking you must really have been tired since he was only gone for a few minutes. Seeing you asleep in his bed made him weak at the knees. 

He made himself a makeshift bed on the floor before looking down and realizing there was too much of his skin exposed for having his best friend in the room. He went to pick up the shirt he had discarded earlier in the night, only to find that it wasn’t there anymore. He was sure he’d thrown it on the floor, just as he did every night. You mumbled something in your sleep, catching his attention. And that was when he saw it.

The angel sleeping in his bed was also wearing his shirt. 

His heart collapsed into a heap on the floor. Of course Poe knew it was silly to be in love with his best friend who obviously didn’t reciprocate those feelings. But damn it if seeing you laying there didn’t make him fall more in love with you. He was suddenly filled with the overpowering urge to kiss you on the forehead. That wasn’t weird, right? And you were asleep, so he could grant himself one kiss...right?

Against his better judgment Poe leaned down over you and gave you a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead. And then on the top of your head. And then on the tip of your nose. 

When he pulled away, two sleepy eyes were looking back at him. His heart stopped. 

You had to go for the nose kiss, didn’t you Dameron?

“Come into bed.” 

What? 

Had you really just asked him to come into bed with you? He watched you wiggle over to the other side, giving him room to slip in beside you, which he did, despite the alarms going off in his head. 

He decided to stay to his side of the bed and keep his hands to himself. He fought every urge to pull you to him and give you more kisses across your beautiful (and did he mention angelic?) face. 

He lay there quietly for a while thinking about anything besides you. He was so hesitant to let his feelings grow for a friend he was so close to. And he definitely knew it was stupid to be in love during a war, when he could go off on a mission one day and not come home. He couldn’t do that to you. What he could do was turn on his side to watch you sleep. That couldn’t hurt. 

Poe thought he imagined it when the angel suddenly moved closer to him in her sleep, nuzzling into the crook in his neck. He had stopped breathing. Maybe he could allow himself to hold you in his arms. That would absolutely become something he would regret in the light of day, but that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was Poe Dameron loved you, and wanted to sleep with you in his arms, if only for one night. 

He slowly wrapped his strong arms around your sleeping form, pulling you closer to him and entangling his legs with yours. He dared to give you a few more sweet kisses on the top of your head before allowing himself to fall asleep with you in his arms, thoughts of how wonderful it would be if you loved him too flitting through his head. 

#poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x reader #star wars imagine #poe dameron fic #poe x reader

[evabellasworld]

The Daily Life of Mayday

For @flyawaybluebirdie. This is my gift to you.

A round alarm clock rang next to him, making him cover his face with his pillow and groan in frustration. “I don’t want to go to work,” Mayday complained, tugging his blanket even closer to him. Being part of the Coruscant Guard who was assigned to the call centre on the Republic’s capital planet, the idea of dealing with madness from his callers makes him gag.

Trained as a sniper back on Kamino, he was the cream of the crop, literally. Like the rest of his brothers, Mayday has tanned skin and brown eyes, with his hair dyed blond and tied into a high ponytail. Despite that, he was given one of the worst jobs that a clone could not dream of. Dealing with idiots on comlinks.

Every single day of his life, Mayday had to deal with a huge tumour inside his head whenever someone called him. He felt like cutting the end of the line, but at the same time, he didn’t have any other choice. If he complains to his superiors, such as Admiral Tarkin, he might get assigned to the worst job in the Grand Army of the Republic, cleaning duty. That’s the last thing he wanted in his life.

But for now, he had to put on a straight face and head to work. Mayday grabbed his red-painted armour that was hanging on the side of his bunk and put it on, before wearing his helmet. He got out of his quarters and headed to the mess hall, pouring himself a cup of black caf. 

Another day, another caf, he said to himself, as he sat down on his desk and opened his comlink while holding his mug when he felt a sudden pat on his pat. 

“Hey Mayday,” Harley spoke, grinning at him. “I see you look sleepy, as usual.”

“Shit, Harley,” he shouted, almost spilling his caf on his armour. “Don’t scare me like that next time.”

“Oh cheer up, Mayday. You’re so uptight sometimes.”

He rolled his eyes at his sister as he focused on the computer screen in front of him. Harley and Mayday were quite close together, their friendship going back to Kamino where they were both in the same batch.

Unlike Mayday, Harley was a clone of Krystal Mereel, who had darker skin, a flat nose, and frizzy hair, which was dyed in pink and blue to match her favourite comic book character, who was a popular villain. She was cheerful and feisty, who tries her best to give positive vibes to her brother, despite not asking for one.

That doesn’t mean he hates her, though. They do love each other, but at the same, he gets annoyed by her never-ending speech about things that he doesn’t even want to hear about every second.

“Mayday,” she snapped her fingers constantly in front of his face, catching his attention. “Are you there?”

“Yes, Harley, I’m here,” he answered, deadpanned. “Also, don’t you have a job to do right now?”

“I’ll do it later,” complained Harley, sitting beside him. “Besides, life is too short to worry too much on small things, you know.”

He just sighed at her remarks. As much as she makes a good point, their superior, Commander Fox, would have a big headache dealing with a slacker like her. As Mayday scrolled through the HoloNet, he received his first call from someone. Oh my God, I wonder who’s calling right now?

“Coruscant Call Centre, how can I help you?” he replied to the call, with a fake smile plastered on his face. He prays for the call to end as soon as possible, but alas, that is only a dream that is unachievable for a clone like him.

“Hey, is this Coruscant Call Centre?” a deep, male voice asked, which made one of Mayday’s eyes twitch. No, this is the Children’s Department, thank you very much.

“Yes, sir,” he refrained himself from making a sarcastic comment in the morning. “This is the Coruscant Call Centre. How can I help you, sir?”

“Uh yeah, I think I have a situation here.”

It better be an urgent one, or I’ll kick your ass. “What kind of situation, sir?”

“Well, you see, I just returned home when I found a tooka destroying my couch.”

Harley and Mayday exchanged looks of amusement and held in their laughter. “Well, sir, that’s tookas for you. They love scratching things, especially couches.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not my tooka.”

“Well, in that case, sir, may I suggest you call animal control? I’m sure they know how to address this problem.”

“Oh, well, alright then. Thank you for your time then.”

As the line was cut off, both of them burst into laughter as Mayday filled up another cup of caf. “I must admit, that was hilarious.”

“Yeah,” Harley laughed along. “I mean, a tooka somehow ending up in your house and ruining your couch? That makes a good comedy on the NecFlic.”

“I agree with you, Har, know nowadays, it’s difficult to find good series down there, if you know what I mean.”

“That is true,” she shrugged, chewing on her toffee sweets that she stole from Thorn’s candy bowl, without anyone noticing. “Nowadays, it’s just lousy sequels for lousy movies and cancellation of actually good series.”

“Yeah, like what happened to Days Ahead? That was the best sitcom, but NecFlic decided to make the second ‘Kissing Scene’ movie instead. I mean, that movie was shitty and problematic.”

“Let’s not talk about that movie,” she scoffed. “Romantic comedy, my ass. It wasn’t even that good anyway.”

“Yeah,” he smiled, when he received another call, which made him breathe. “Coruscant Call Centre, how can I help you?”

“Hey, is this Coruscant Call Centre?” a high-pitched, male voice spoke. Mayday blinked a couple of times before he could answer his question that was asked millions of times. He was a few seconds away from tossing his comm right across his room, but that would spell decommission for him and his job.

“Yes, this is Coruscant Call Centre. How can I help you, sir?”

“Just wondering, but what do you do for a living?”

“Say that we shove people’s ass for a living,” Harley mouthed, inserting her fist inside her mug. 

“Well, sir,” Mayday decided to ignore his sister’s remarks. “We’re here to answer your calls and do our best to help you out with your problems, big or small.”

She slapped her forehead and let out a groan. This is going to be the most exciting conversation I’ll ever watch outside NecFlec.

“Oh, well, I have a couple of problems that I need help addressing.”

“Okay then, sir,” Mayday took a deep breath. “What kind of problems do you have for us to solve?”

“Well, it’s about this girl I saw in school,” the recipient began his story. “Her name is Veronica, and she’s really popular in school and I think I have a humongous crush on her. How do I let her know that I love her?”

For a moment, Mayday was speechless. This man, no, not a man. He’s too young to be a man. Well, this boy dares to call up the Coruscant Call Centre, which was meant to reach out for urgent help, to ask for dating advice to woo a girl that he hardly knows? His fish clenched on his desk and the smile on his face disappeared. 

He only had two hours of sleep. He just finished another round of coffee, and he needs another right now so that he can give a smack on the boy’s head. Some people just want to create chaos in the world, and this boy is the perfect epitome of the word.

“Look, kid, if you want dating advice, then go ask someone else,” Mayday scolded the boy. “This call is only meant for emergencies, okay? Good day.”

He cut the line and took off his helmet, rubbing his temple with his fingers. Harley, who was watching the entire skit, chuckled at his misfortunes. “Well, Mayday, I hate to say I told you so, but yeah, I told you so.”

“Do you ever shut up, Harley?” he replied, in a snarky manner. “Do you?”

“Admit it, Mayday,” she nudged his ribs. “You could have put down that call when you had a chance but no, you decided to go on and ended up with some stupid kid who has hormonal problems, Mayday, so yeah. You should have ignored them.”

“Whatever, Harley. It’s not like you helped me or something.”

She chuckled at his remarks. “Oh, please. I asked you to tell him that we shove people’s asses for a living but you didn’t do that.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. As I said before, you don’t help that much anyway.”

Harley tightened her lips. He knows what he’s referring to, and she had no other choice but to bring it up in their conversation between them. “Look, Mayday, if it’s about that stupid mug that you drank coffee with every day then-”

“Actually, yes, it is about that mug that you broke it.”

“Oh my gosh, vod, it was an accident. I didn’t mean to break your favourite mug.”

“Well, you did,” he turned to his computer. “And you owe me a new mug because of your carelessness.”

“Mayday, I got you a new mug two weeks ago,” Harley pointed out. “I mean, it even has your name written on it twice.”

He glanced at his mug, which says ‘Mayday, Mayday’ twice and twitched his lips. “Well, it’s a terrible mug that you got me.”

She jabbed her fingers on his forehead, prompting him to yelp dramatically. “Ouch!”

“I didn’t even hit you that hard,” Harley stuck her tongue out. “You’re such a drama king.”

“And you're the most annoying piece of shit I’ve ever encountered.”

“Why thank you, smartass.”

“You’re welcome, asshat.”

Before Harley could open her mouth, she and Mayday heard another phone call. With another sigh, he took a seat and answered the call. “Coruscant Call Centre, how can I help you?”

“My tooka is stuck on the tree,” an old lady told him. “Could you help me, please?”

He gave a glance to Harley, who bobbed her head in approval and gave a thumbs up. “In this case, I will redirect you to the fire department of Coruscant so please be-”

“Actually, sir, my grandson tried to climb the tree to grab my cat and now he’s also stuck as well.”

Both Mayday and Harley gleamed at each other before he composed himself from dying of chortling. Well, I am confident that the fire department will be entertained for the whole day.

#star wars #star wars ocs #clone troopers #clone trooper ocs #female clone troopers #mayday #harley #coruscant guards #corrie guards #sniper #call centre #humor #sitcom #work comedy #sibling bonding #sibling love #gift exchange #clone ocs

[mandochlorian]

secret (ben solo x fem!reader)

part I part II part III

summary: So, the thing about your mom… it’s not that she’s possessive or controlling… well, she can be. But it’s just that she really has a dislike for Ben Solo, which is why she can never know that you sneak him into your room every Friday while she’s at work.

general masterlist

star wars masterlist

You stare down at your cup of caf, hoping it takes effect and wakes you up soon. All you want to do is see Ben, apologise, make things right and let him know that you want to be with him. That’s all you’ve ever wanted; is to be with him, despite your mom and her opinion on him. 

The house is silent, your parents still asleep. And you wish Ben had stayed the night. Waking up next to him would have eased your anxiety about today. Sighing, you finish your morning drink and head for the door. It’s still dark outside, but you’ll catch transport to the Base soon enough. 

As you sit outside for a few minutes, you finish your caf and set the mug aside. Just as you see the transport shuttle come into view. It touches down and you feel yourself becoming even more fearful. When you board, your eyes immediately look for those of your boyfriends, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

“Y/N!” Someone calls your name out and you turn to see Finn and Poe, sitting beside one another and beckoning you over, “You look like shit.” Poe adds, looking you up and down.

“Thanks,” you sit beside him, running a hand over the flyaways coming from your braided hair, “Maybe that’s because it’s 4:30am.

Poe chuckles, “4:30 is nothing.”

Widening his eyes, Finn shakes his head, “Maybe not to the squadron leader but for the rest of us, it’s the worst.” You nod in agreement, forcing a smile to your lips as you look around at the seats once more, just as the ship picks up a few more people from the housing compartments before making it’s way to the base.

“Hey, uh,” you speak up, looking to the two boys, “Have any of you seen Ben?”

“You and Ben, huh? Getting awfully close.” Poe raises his eyebrows, giving you a teasing look as he nudges Finn. If only you knew, you think to yourself, holding back a smirk. 

“Yeah,” Finn grins at you, “you got a crush on him?”

You roll your eyes at your friends, wishing you could tell them about how you actually have the biggest crush on him. “So you haven’t seen him?” You wonder, taking the conversation back to your question. 

Poe shakes his head while Finn says, “He went to Base early, made his own way there, probably with the General.”

“Oh,” you mumble, cursing at yourself once more because you know he‘s acting this way because of you, “Weird. He never does that.” You think out loud, looking outside the window to see the base come into view. Finn just shrugs as Poe directs the conversation to something else, but not before making one last joke about you and Ben. 

When it’s time for everyone to get up and make their way to their stations to prepare for the mission, you can’t help but try to look for Ben. And when you’re unsuccessful in doing so, you start getting really worried. What if he decided not to go on this mission? No... he wouldn’t do that, he has to pick up the spice shipment. Oh fuck, the spice! Will Ben even want you to come along still? What a mess.

Ben. You reach out, closing your eyes briefly to try and feel him. Ben, where are you?

Upon not receiving an answer, you begin to get frustrated at the boy. What the hell is his problem? Sure, you were mean, but does that warrant being completely ignored? 

“Y/N?” Poe speaks up, one hand coming down to rest on your shoulder, “What’s taking so long?”

You snap out of it, shaking your head and quickly rushing to the weapons table. “Sorry, Poe! I mean... Sorry Gold Leader,” you correct yourself, though it’s odd being only slightly younger but still friends with your superior, you still have to address him properly, “I got distracted. It won’t happen again.” You excuse yourself.

Poe nods, seeing most of the other fighters making their way inside already. He also sees a certain long-haired boy making his way to the gear table too, “Make your way inside when you’re ready.” Poe says, before passing Ben and leaving.

By this point, you’re too focused on collecting a blaster and extra weapons in case something happens to your lightsaber. You don’t even notice Ben appear next to you until he speaks, “I can do the pick up alone today.”

Snapping your head up, you can’t help but frown at him, not trying to hide any emotion. “I thought you were ignoring me.” You reply sarcastically as you place the blaster on its hilt, opposite your saber. 

“Hence why I’m doing the pick up alone today.” He rolls his eyes.

“Without me? Yeah, right. You wouldn’t last an hour without me.” You scoff, standing there idly as he packs a blaster away.

“Since when do you get to be angry at me?” He places his hands on his hips, giving the same frown back to you.

“Are you serious?” You stare at him, face expressionless as anger begins to fill you, “You ditched me on the transport ship and ignored me when I reached out.”

“Hey,” Ben lifts his hands, pointing at you, “You’re the one who said I was a problem.”

“What?” 

“Last night.” He narrows his eyes as he pauses, “Oh, you don’t remember?”

“I was stressed out last night, my mom nearly saw you!” You exclaim, shaking your head incredulously at him, “As if you don’t see how that would have been a problem?”

“It wouldn’t be if you just told them!” Ben exclaims, before taking a deep sigh, “Y/N, we’ve been keeping a secret for three years. Aren’t you tired of it?”

“You’ve been smuggling since you were 15,” you begin, poking Ben in the chest gently, “And you've been keeping it a secret for years.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“It just is!”

“How?!”

“You’re hurting me!” He shouts, looking away angrily for a second before turning back to you. All you can do is stand there silently. “Me lying about smuggling doesn't hurt anyone,” he continues solemnly, wishing that this fight didn’t remind him so much of his parents.

“If I tell them,” you suggest, eyeing the sad expression on Ben’s face, “it’ll hurt both of us.”

He sighs once more, feeling defeated and unheard. “You’d rather let this die out than tell your parents?”

“Who said this was dying out?” You shout, looking into his eyes, wondering if he's trying to end things with you.

“I mean... eventually it will, how are we going to be together for the rest of our lives when your parents don’t know about me?”

“It’s not like I’m never going to tell them, I-”

“When?”

“When the time‘s right, when... when they’re more understanding!”

“The time will never be right, Y/N. Your parents are who they are.” Ben shrugs, giving you a small smile, “Just like you.”

“I don’t know...” You frown, looking down as your breath quickens, “I can’t...”

Placing a hand on your arm, Ben takes a step closer and his calm voice soothes you, “You don’t have to do this alone.” 

“Not now... Please.” You mumble, eyes cast down to the ground as you avoid his gaze, “Please,” your eyes begin to tear up, feeling yourself panic at the reaction your mom would have, “I can’t now, not now, soon, I promise. I promise I’ll tell them soon just... please, please don’t leave me over this, i-”

“I’m here, I’m here,” Ben pulls you into his embrace, calming you down as he rubs your back gently, “I’m not going anywhere, okay? Shh, shh.” He rocks you gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he closes his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve thought about what I was saying more,” Ben admits, “I love you, I love you with all my heart. It’s because I love you that I want to know them.” He pulls back slightly, looking down at you fondly, “And I want my parents to know who I love. I want you over to have dinner with them. I want to go on holidays together. I don’t want you to be scared when you come over because you don’t want to be caught.” Ben’s voice turns into a whisper and you see him leaning in slightly. You smile up at him, about to press a kiss to him when -

“Ben?” The Generals voice makes you step away from Ben awkwardly. Ben pushes his hands behind his back, standing before his parents like a soldier. You look to Han and Leia, giving them small, awkward smiles.

“Mom.” Ben forces a smile, acting as though everything's fine though he’s sure they can see the tears staining your eyes, “Dad.”

“You two should be in the meeting room. Is everything okay?” Leia wonders, looking between the two of you. Ben nods, silently.

“If he was being a jerk, you can tell us,” Han speaks up, hands placed on his hips just like Ben, who rolls his eyes.

“Thanks, Dad,” Ben mutters sarcastically, giving Han a glare.

Leia gives you a knowing smile, “I think it may have been the opposite. Anyways, we should all head inside to talk to the team, right?” 

“Right,” Ben responds, his lips in a tight smile as his mother holds him by the arm gently, leading everyone to the meeting.

#ben solo #ben solo x reader #smuggler!ben solo x reader #smuggler ben solo

[saltylikecrait]

Best to Share With a Friend

Happy Popcorn Day! I just returned from my own visit to Batuu and had a blast. This is a solo Vi Moradi fic.

She finished up another hard day of work for Savi as one of his Gatherers. It wasn’t that she needed to continue the job, as being the leader of the Batuuan Resistance base took up a lot of her energy, but she enjoyed the company of everyone she worked with. They were a nice group of coworkers, friendly, trustworthy. Quickly, Vi began to think of them as a second family.

Like many days after work, she searched around the bustling market for a place to eat. However, without her coworkers calling the shots, she was left to her own devices to choose. There were so many options in Black Spire Outpost, she didn’t know where to start. The smells of the stalls wafted through her nostrils, enticing her with the warm scents of cooked meat from Ronto Roasters and the old docking bay.

The popping sound against metal caught her attention. She almost forgot Kat Saka’s kettle was in this part of town.

It wasn’t exactly a meal, but Outpost Mix was a wonderful treat. She could afford to skip a healthy meal once in a while.

"Bright suns!" Vi greeted as she ordered a bag of the treat, dusted with red, pink, and purple powder for flavor and color. She was always told artificial coloring on food was a questionable addition, but right now, she didn’t care about the luxuries of being able to afford to be picky. There were days when her stomach growled and she was transported back to the days after the Battle of Crait, when the Resistance was short on food and days without eating were common. Those memories reminded her how lucky she was to run a base on a world like Batuu, where no one was worried about running out of food.

She sat down on a low duracrete wall by the stand and popped a handful into her mouth. The treat almost melted in her mouth, salty and sweet dancing on her taste buds in harmonious unison. Vi smiled with the first bite.

Staring at nothing in particular, she noticed smaller details of the marketplace she hadn’t before. Amateur graffiti artists left their marks in simple designs and single colors, expressing their support for the Resistance or their wish for Black Spire to go back to its neutral roots. Oga certainly kept that stance, though she had no problem profiting off either side.

A sign next to the kettle stand caught her eye. Vi hadn’t noticed that before either.

Perfect for sharing with a friend, the sign read against the dirty beige stone.

Looking down at the bag in her hands, she agreed it would be a fun treat to share. Too bad Rey and Chewbacca had already fled the outpost, the mission with Green Squadron and a handful of new recruits going awry from the start and forcing the ex-stormtrooper Finn out of his own undercover mission on a First Order Star Destroyer. If they were still here, she would have all bought them bags of popcorn to share.

Days like these, Vi often wondered what life would be like for her after the First Order fell. Sometimes, news of missions gave her a sense of finality, like the end of the conflict was growing closer. She wasn’t sure if she was right, but sometimes, her intuition was correct about these things. Savi would tell her it was because the Force liked her, even if she wasn't a Jedi like Rey. Vi wasn't sure what she believed in, but she saw the amazing things Rey and Kylo Ren could do and knew there was more to the Force than she thought she could ever understand.

The first thing she wanted to do when she was no longer needed was visit her brother. The second was to find a better wig or a hair stylist that could work with her growing hair. No longer cropped to the base of her skull, Vi was growing annoyed by the hair net she placed on her head every morning to keep her natural hair from sticking out from under her wig. Her natural color was also showing from the fading bleach job she did months before.

Even if victory was there’s – and she had total faith it would be – it would always be bittersweet. So many had fallen for the cause and their sacrifices would always be remembered.

She imagined such a comrade beside her now. A man with blue-black hair and a history he’d rather not be remembered for. One that did her wrong and wanted so desperately for her to forgive him.

“Caf’s still as weak as a newborn bantha,” he would complain if he were here, “but this stuff’s not bad. Anything’s better than the paste we got each dinner back in the Order.” She knew he would reach in the bag for more.

Her hands twitched slightly against loose kernels, reminding her she no longer had feeling in some of her fingers thanks to his botched torture job.

“Quit complaining,” she would say to him. “I’m feeding you, right?”

“Like you’d let anyone starve,” he would laugh. “Mother Hen.” He would say this fondly, using the nickname the recruits called her when they thought she wasn’t listening.

At times, she struggled to think of Cardinal and Archex as the same person, but despite all her wishing, the reality was, they were. The man in the scarlet stormtrooper gear haunted her nightmares. The one underneath the armor had been a friend. Even if Leia said everyone deserved a shot at redemption, Vi wasn’t sure she completely could forgive Cardinal for the trauma he induced.

Or maybe this was a case of forgive but never forget. He really regretted what he’d done, and though she wasn’t sure if he ever thought himself as officially part of the Resistance, all the work he put into their base showed his sincerity of seeking a purpose, seeking her approval. Archex did everything he could think of to try to make it up to her. He made lots of mistakes doing so – she certainly didn’t appreciate the kiss he planted on her, even if she tried to wave it off – but every act showed the person who had been underneath the armor the whole time. It must have been hard to realize you wasted twenty years of your life serving the wrong people and she couldn’t blame the starving fifteen-year-old he had been for joining them in the first place.

Vi often felt a sense of loss when she thought about what Archex could have been had he not gotten mixed up with the First Order. He was a loyal soldier, took every cause he stood for to heart, even if he regretted it later. If Rey could be such a loving and strong woman despite the years she spent on Jakku, surely the same could be said about him?

Complex probably was the best way to describe their relationship and Vi knew even decades from now, assuming she survived, she still would never quite understand him.

If she couldn’t share a bag of popcorn with a friend, the next best thing was to share with the memory of one.

#sw fanfiction #vi moradi #my stuff #galaxy's edge #archex #captain cardinal

[sweetimagines]

Rebellious Passion

Gif source 

Pairing: Armitage Hux x Poe Dameron

Description: Gingerpilot week - Day 7 - Orange appreciation. 

Warnings: None I can think of.

Word Count: 1787

A/N: This was supposed to be a super quick fic but the details just kept coming. 

It’s an unusually quiet day on the Finalizer’s bridge. Even though it’s war time, the galaxy still feels it’s necessary to celebrate Valentine’s Day, meaning there’s no X-Wings to blast down and it would be insensitive to plan an attack on the Resistance base while they’re unprepared - leaving out the fact that the First Order has no clue to where their new base is located.

If it weren't for the third cup of extra strong caf General Hux had this morning, he’d be blinking sleepy eyes from boredom.

Surprisingly, “Supreme Leader” Ren is taking part in the nonsense festivities, locked in his chambers with his - invisible - scavenger girlfriend. 

Poe had informed Armitage beforehand that even the traitor - FN-2187 - has a date with the Otomok biter. Apparently, he doesn't want to be the only one alone. 

Hux assured him that there would be plenty of people lonesome for the holiday. That earned him a hard hang up of their comm call. He later learned it’s rude, if you have a partner, to not spend Valentine’s with them. 

However, he can’t have anyone knowing he’s involved with rebel scum. He’d be executed, or worse. Dameron doesn’t seem to understand that.

Despite the fact that he rejected the unscheduled meeting, Armitage can’t stop thinking about letting Poe down. The monotony of the bridge isn’t helping him keep his mind busy, but that’s just about to change in an epic way.

One of Hux’s officers arrives at the bridge, carrying a gigantic bouquet of flowers. He only recognizes the man when he speaks. 

“These are for you, sir.” Lieutenant Mitaka hands them over.

The General scoffs, his eyebrows raised as he holds the bouquet to the side. “What is the meaning of this, Lieutenant?” 

“Oh... They’re not from me, sir. There’s a card.” Mitaka points at the piece of folded flimsi and gets back to his station before Hux has a change to investigate further.

General Hux has a feeling he knows who they’re from and is just about to confirm when he notices all his officers are staring at him. “Have you no work to do?” Immediately, everyone gets back to their duties.

He squares his shoulders and strides out of the bridge, leaving behind the fruty fragrance of Everlily on the air and a few peach hued petals on the ground.

Armitage loosens up only when he’s inside the concealment of his chambers. He takes a seat on his ice blue couch, settling the bouquet on the caf table and retrieving the card. He chortles at the bad poetry but smiles at the fact that it’s handwritten - even if Poe’s letters are sloppy and difficult to read.

Roses are red, 

My flight suit is orange,

And so is your hair. 

Happy Valentine’s day, Hugs.

Of couse Dameron wouldn’t let anything stop him from being a good boyfriend. Undoubtedly he’s been planing this for a while because a bouquet of Everlilies is very expensive and he’s probably not earning much on a Resistance Commander salary. 

Hux is aware of how harsh it was to deny a hopeless romantic a date on Valentine’s Day. He hasn’t got the first idea how to fix that, though, since he has never had a Valentine before.

The thuds of someone knocking on his door interrupt his line of thought.

“What is it?” Hux questions irritated, getting back to his cold, autocratic self.

“Apologies, sir! We have received another package for you.” Mitaka shouts as the door slides open.

The General takes the small, medium weight, mysterious box with a bow on top and dismisses his assistant. 

The box contains two carrot cupcakes with bitter chocolate frosting and a bottle of ginger ale. 

Armitage feels specially guilty now as he reads the small heart shaped card.

Enjoy your breakfast.

Hugs and kisses from your Flyboy!

It’s simple and sweet and absolutely something that would normally sicken Armitage. Instead he’s charmed. Poe really is a master at romantic gestures. 

Hux doesn’t want Dameron to think he doesn’t care so he’ll follow his boyfriend’s actions to try and make things right. He summons Lieutenant Mitaka to his quarters with flimsiplast and pens.

His assistant turns up with the required items and another gift. At this point, General Hux is not surprised anymore. 

“Lieutenant, how would you make a Valentine’s Day card?” Armitage asks reluctantly in a low voice - in case anyone is eavesdropping. After all, he needs every bit of help he can get.

“I wouldn’t know, sir. I can research people’s preferred methods if you’d like.” 

“No. I better do that myself.” Hux can’t have “Valentine’s Day card how to” on the First Order net database.

Mitaka nods before getting back to work. The door to General Hux’s chambers shuts closed with a thump as he sets the new present on his desk, reading Poe’s card in hopes to find some inspiration there.

I am the spark that will light the fire in your pants! 

That’s not exactly the kind of enthusiasm Armitage was expecting to find, an involuntary blush tints his cheeks red and a shy smirk curls his lip. 

He wonders how a single sentence from Poe has more effect on him than an entire meeting about military strategies or finally finishing the design to a modified Tie fighter after long hours of work. 

Maybe Poe is right and he’s misguided in his passions. He’s already sick and tired of having to bow to Kylo Ren’s petty revenge crusade. Being constantly humiliated and abused is most definitely feeding his doubts. 

Perhaps it really is time to consider other ways to put his specialties to use. Just not this exact second, now he has to receive his boyfriend’s extreme affection and then find a way to retribute.

Hux lets out a single high-pitched giggle as he opens the package to find not only a pumpkin spice scented candle but also two short plush coral Porg. Ever since the Wookie adopted those creatures, Dameron is obsessed with them.  

Armitage comms Dameron from his personal encrypted commlink. There’s no way he’ll allow his boyfriend to spend Valentine’s Day alone anymore.

“Changed your mind about celebrating, Hugs?” Poe’s voice is cocky. Hux has no doubt that was his plan all along.

“Congratulations, rebel. You have successfully coerced me into inviting you over.” 

Dameron chuckles proudly, making Hux roll his eyes.

“Don’t gloat or else I’ll change my mind.” An empty threat and they both know it. “I’ll have Phasma escort you safely to my chambers while Lieutenant Mitaka erases your landing from the records.”

“I know the drill, Hugs.” They’ve done that one too many times and Armitage can feel from Poe’s voice that the dirty secret is starting to take a toll on him. 

He fears soon his boyfriend will start to weigh the pros and cons of their relationship and realize he made a mistake. Hopefully tonight he can score on the pros.

 “I didn’t have time to buy you a gift, though.” Hux already let him down enough for one day so he might as well be honest.

“I wasn’t expecting one. See you in a bit, Ginger.” 

“Don’t be too long, Pilot.” 

Captain Phasma delivers Dameron safely to General Hux’s chambers. She’s not on board with the relationship but knows it will happen with or without her help and she’d rather see Hux in one piece, so making sure no one spots a Resistance Commander walking freely around the Finalizer is now part of her job.

Armitage regard Poe’s appearance and is awestruck. He’s surprisingly not on his flight suit, but a nice leather jacket over a cream shirt and BB-8 is not trailing his every step. He even shaved and doesn’t smell like engine oil. 

“You look nice, Dameron.” No matter what he’s wearing, Hux always fancies him.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Hugs.” Dameron kisses his cheek and Phasma leaves. It’s not visible through her mask, but she most certainly rolled her eyes. 

“What are your plans?” 

“I thought we could holonetflix and chill.” Poe guides Armitage to the bed. “I brought snacks.” He hands him a clear plastic bag.

It contains peach flavored and colored sour gummy X-Wings with black liquorice details, bittersweet jellybeans with cantaloupe essence, dyed soft orange and sweethearts candy shaped and tinted to match his astromech with the words “BB MINE” stamped on it.

“You’re so corny.” Armitage teases as a defense mechanism to how he really feels - warm and fuzzy.

“And proud.” Poe sighs. “Oh, and I have one last gift for you.” He winks and hurriedly strips his shirt, tripping over while taking off his pants. 

“Orange underwear?” Hux raises and eyebrow as Dameron rubs the back of his head embarrassedly. “You have a problem, Dameron.” 

“I’m just honoring the origin of our love: The Orange Lady, Nar Shaddaa, Corellia.”

Armitage gasps at the meaning behind all the orange items he received. “That’s...” He’s at a loss for words.

“Mushy? Sappy? Silly?” Poe jokes.

“More like charming, endearing, honorable.” Hux sometimes doesn’t believe he scored such a wonderful man, specially from the opposite side of the war. 

Dameron kisses him the same he did when Hux first said “I love you.” and he’s left breathless.

The holoshow Dameron chose isn’t exactly to Hux’s taste but after everything that man did for him, watching a bad show is the least he can do.

“Did you like my cards?” Poe snuggles closer to Armitage’s chest.

“That poem was epically bad... but... sweet.” Hux admits reluctantly. Dameron has been able to soften him up to physical contact but emotional demonstrations of love are still hard for him. 

“That reminds me. I made you one after our comm call.” Armitage stands up and retrieves the card from his desk and watches as Poe reads it.

I love you so much I’d defect the First Order.

Happy Valentine’s day, Dameron.

PS: My last name is Hux.

“Do you mean it?” 

“Yes.” Hux doesn’t possess the kind of humor needed to make a joke like that. “I undoubtedly love you more than anything and I don’t want to lose you.” 

Poe stays silent, enjoying that moment for as long as he can. “I love you so kriffing much, Hux.” The use of his proper last name expresses that more than anything else ever could.

“I know.”

#gingerpilotweek2018 #Armitage Hux #Armitage Hux x Poe Dameron #Poe Dameron #Gingerpilot #Armitage Hux Imagine #Armitage Hux Imagines #Poe Dameron Imagine #Poe Dameron Imagines #fanfic #imagine #Gingerpilot Imagine #Gingerpilot Imagines #Star Wars #Star Wars Imagine #Star Wars Imagines #Pux #Damerux #gingerpilot week

[billgavemeextrachips]

The story behind the “Taco Bell run” in my tags...

@bbcshipper just answered an adorable ask about one’s favorite birthday, and I’m feeling silly and inspired. Over the years, usually in posts about how insane college life is, I’ve muttered in my tags about a late-night Taco Bell run on my 21st birthday. Well. Here’s the story. As told on insomnia and a fanfic-writing procrastination-block, mind you.

Fall of my junior year, I was taking 8 classes and 21 credits. I was also sharing an apartment with my best friend, (both then and now,) who could tell I was having a shit semester. I was on a medication that threw my as-of-yet-untreated anxiety and low self-esteem into hyperdrive. Also: see ‘8 classes, 21 credits’, above.

The week of midterms, Bestie very sternly warned me not to study all night and shut myself away from her weekly TV-date with our friends. (”House” and “Fringe,” in case anyone’s wondering, and yes I know that dates the story a little.) I knew that with most of my midterms behind me, I could afford to come up for air for once. But I was so stressed out/self-loathing that I somehow forgot that Thursday was my birthday.

So I was going around the caf, inviting all my friends to hang out with me on possibly the only House/Fringe Nite that I’d be truly relaxed and semi-enjoyable company for the entire semester...

Yeah. I was unwittingly inviting them to my own surprise party. In some cases, mere minutes after Bestie had invited them properly.

9 people showed up in our apartment, which was a huge crowd, for me. (Our House/Fringe Nite was usually only four.) I remembered not only what day it was, but that I did have friends who cared about me after all. I was a soppy, happy mess.

Bestie’s parents special-ordered a sheet cake from the cafeteria. She begged them not to get the largest size available. They ignored that. I got some hilarious cards; I still remember the one from the guy-friend I’d had a crush on the year before. (*le gasp* Yes I had a real crush on a real-life, non-celebrity, guy. For once in my life.) The front of the card was something like:

“Remember record players? Black-and-white TV? Political figures we liked and trusted? Getting money in birthday cards?”

The inside, sans moolah of course, said:

“Man, I miss the good old days!”

The die-hard House/Fringe people had arranged to have the shows TiVo’d elsewhere so that I could make them all watch whatever the heck I wanted. I chose The Beatles, HELP! After the movie, and some goofing around over a second round of cake, there were six of us who still didn’t feel like calling it a night. We had a “now what?” moment. It was now 1 AM.

My former-crush’s roommate was an extremely quiet dude, who we kinda just kept around because he was nice enough, killed cockroaches for us and gave the smaller girls piggyback rides, and one of the girls in our group had a crush on him. All of a sudden, he goes: “The Taco Bell down near JMU” (the public college ten times the size of our puny Christian school on the town’s outskirts) “is open til 2.”

Of course we all teased him, like, “Dude, how do you know that?” While piling into his car.

Which is how my 21st birthday involved a late-night Taco Bell run- where nobody was drunk or high. Because even for a Christian school, we were the exceptionally Well-Behaved Kids.

Also, my former-crush kept teasing me for being “old now,” which was adorable but also made me feel kind of like a cougar: because he was only nineteen and a half.

(And Bestie and I were pawning cake slices off on the neighboring apartments for the next four days.)

#personal #personal story #college story #i was a lame college kid #but it's okay #we had fun anyway #Former Crush guy is married and a missionary now #and i'm a lefty atheist sapphic! yay! #life is weird like that #still. fond memories.

[downbythewater-beachblondee]

16 | Corpus

Sanaa

☾

The diner stank. It reeked of low caf and granola. How dare she take me to this mosh pit.

Her lips, swiped with pink lipstick, attempted a warm smile although she pulled it off well. Her eyes bobbled around, probably trying to avoid how fucking gauche everything was.

She was beautiful. Simply, utterly, beautiful. She was everything. Everything in a daze.

"I got your letter." She said, taking a sip of her tea.

I guess she was expecting me to respond. As if the sole purpose of the letter wasn't supposed to mean 'I'm starting my life over so don't come looking for me.'

"How did you find me?" I coaxed, not wasting any time.

She tilted her head to the side clicking her tongue the way mama used to do when she had something to tell us.

"Lucky for you...every letter needs a stamp. And yours happened to read Los Cabasas in pretty black letters."

I mentally slapped myself for being so stupid.

"I didn't write a return address though. No, how did you find me in this exact spot? My phone number?"

"Well...finding you was an accident. Honestly, I was on my way to the mall. But actually tracking you down...that was hard."

"Try me." I bet.

She gleamed at my boldness.

"Well, first you gave momma a stroke."

"I did?"

"You did. So after nursing her back to health...I did a little digging. I didn't want to call the cops on you because legally you're over eighteen. So I looked at Los Cabasas's records."

"You couldn't find my name."

"Sure couldn't. But I found your old one. And I found what you changed it to. Quite the interesting name, by the way."

"Thanks. Keep it moving."

"Noted. So with that I noticed you kept your last name. And somebody registered that little phone of yours under that name. Rosetta Tobias, I think it was."

I shuttered, falling back into the booth. This ain't good. Shit, this really ain't good. I didn't want nothing tracing back to me. I guess I should've thought about that before I let Kylo pay for my name change.

"Naomi..."

"That's not my name anymore." I snapped. "You of all people should know. I changed it."

"To what?" She egged, making sure I could sense the sarcasm from the curvature of her lips.

"Sanaa. Its me and will always be me until I beg otherwise."

A void had been filled and for once since she'd been here I felt a connection with her. Like the connections we used to have in the backwoods of Mississippi. Before I left.

We simpered; both of us, for what seemed like an hour or at least ten minutes.

Then we embraced with the meeting of our hands.

"You're here." I finally spoke.

"I am."

"Don't try to take me home because I'm not going, Aaliyah. No matter what. This is my life. I want to live it. Here."

She shook her head, probing the long wisps of her black hair.

"I'm not trying to change you. But I missed my sister. You just left us!"

"By the way...how's momma?"

"She's great. Better. You should call her." She suggested, emphasizing call.

I tilted my head slightly. "I don't know if I should."

"Nonsense! She'd love to-"

"Aaliyah!" I interjected. "I'm not Naomi anymore. I'm something she wouldn't understand."

She glowered, rubbing her belly. I guess she finally got the picture.

"So...where are you staying?" I questioned, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Oh. Just the hotel by the plaza."

"...The double tree?"

She nodded, modest enough not to go into any more detail.

"That's one expensive hotel." I hinted.

"Ehh." She shrugged.

"What you mean, Eh?" I marveled. "Momma gave you that money?"

"No...actually. I have a boyfriend."

"Wait a minute. You a sugar baby now?"

"No! No...it's not like that." She purred, batting her pretty eye balls to the side.

"Yeah right." I teased. "What else haven't you told me?"

"Well...I'm actually taking a year abroad."

"Oh? You are?"

She nodded. "Well...between you and me...that's on pause right now."

"Because you came to find me, isn't it?"

"Nope." She confirmed. "Don't tell anyone."

"Cross my heart."

"I'm...pregnant."

A smile wasn't at my disposal. Neither was a congratulations. If there were any slither of emotion present it would've been met with greed. Never would I have imagined my cousin having something I didn't; couldn't have. No matter how separate but equal we were as kids, it all boiled down to one thing.

She was everything I wasn't.

Unlike every other fertile woman I'd seen in the past few months, I envied her with everything I had. And most know...I didn't have much.

Figures. No wonder she was screaming femininity. Her skin was glowing.

_______________

Aaliyah had invited me to her loft but I politely declined. I decided to take other measures. Take a walk. Smell the fresh air. Clear my mind.

I was itching and feening to let out some steam.

"How could you be woman?" I repeated to myself, hoping to eradicate my insecurities by addressing them dead on.

Kylo's house was a sore thumb ahead of me and I approached it like I did all the time. There was something unusual about it this time. The front door had been cracked. I could see Kylo's big ass head accompanying some female.

She was cute. Not as cute as I.

"You know I got you baby." I heard. Their voices sang softly in the moonlight.

"I know you do. But when am I going to tell Elijah? Him and his mother will have my head if they found out the baby isn't his." The woman whispered.

At that moment, I had realized her name was Esther. The infamous Esther. And boy oh boy did I have the scoop on her.

A baby? Not Elijah's? Well..who's is it, then?

Kylo bent down towards her stomach, kissing her protruding pouch.

I grimaced at his cringe worthy attempts.

He was only in it for the money. He knew she didn't need anything from him. But man oh man did he want something from her.

"Babe, stop playing around and go to the store for me." She giggled.

Perfect.

"What you want this time?" He pouted.

"Pickled pig feet. Don't ask. I'm pregnant." She warned, placing one of her hands up in surrender.

"Fine. I'm going. Give me the keys." He retrieved the dangling items from her purse before saying, "Hopefully, ole boy won't catch me in his car again like last time."

"He won't." She assured, kissing him.

I hid towards the side of the house where I would be completely invisible to him. I didn't want Kylo to see me this time.

Once he turned the corner I smiled to myself walking confidently into the house, meeting the eyes of Esther.

"Don't worry." I soothed, responding to the bulge of her eyes. "I'm a friend of Kylo's. We share the house."

"Oh." She grunted, with a look of disapproval.

"It's not what you think. I have a boyfriend."

"Okay." She said.

I nodded, looking for a drink in the fridge.

"You and ole Kyle, huh?" I joked.

"Oh...no. It's not even-"

"Oh, it's like that. You was damn near finna rip my head off when I told you we shared the house."

She snickered, loosening up a little.

"Well...it's complicated."

"Trust me. I already know." I agreed.

I knew things about her life that even she didn't know. And she didn't even know who I was.

She shook her head.

"My life... it's a mess. I can't believe I'm pregnant. Might not be the best time in my life for anything like this but... what can you do?"

"I understand." I said, shaking my head, remembering the events occurring earlier with the man she called her husband. "You're in love."

"Yeah. Kylo is the best."

She began rubbing her stomach with her French tipped nails.

"I guess...I'm going through prepartum, if that's even a thing."

"Oh, don't say that." I mitigated, pouring a mix of 2 cups. One for me. One for her. "Besides. I might have something that can fix that."

She frowned.

"Oh, no. I wish I could but I'm trying not to indulge in alcohol. Stupid pregnancy rules."

I sneered. "No worries, mama. This isn't alcohol. It's a mix of rosewater, Jasmine, chamomile. Great for that mama blues ya got there. Also it helps with that always-needing-to-pee sensation."

"Oh...well in that case. Bottoms up."

I picked my drink up.

"Let's make a toast. Two ladies with issues."

"Two ladies...with issues."

We toasted.

We drank.

I was satisfied.

#sza #ryan destiny #keith powers