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hoedamn-eron · 2 months

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lava rolls & caf in the mornings

Poe Dameron is a persistent bastard.

Warnings: Poe is bisexual (Taslet is a pilot in Blue Squadron). Themes of slut-shaming. Mentions of one night stands and sex. Worries of unrequited love. Mentions of fears of commitment. Small mention of parent death (both Poe and Reader). Some swearing. Lots of dialogue. Not proofread so there will be mistakes. It didn't go how I planned it, but I hope it's okay anyway! Word count: 3,821 GN!Reader, no use of Y/N.

From this request by anon. I apologise if this isn't what you expected!

The first time you had seen Poe Dameron was on a recruitment poster for the Resistance.

Your first impression was to scoff and comment on what a pretty boy he was, that the Resistance must really be struggling to get members if they’ve resorted to posters. But wherever you went, you couldn’t seem to escape them, and your eyes always wandered over the serious looking face of Poe Dameron, looking into the distance with those piercing eyes of his.

And the next thing you knew, you were signing up to join and you were shipped off to their base on D’Qar.

Thanks to your father (“You need a true skill to get yourself by.”), you were good with ships; not flying but fixing. You were immediately assigned to the mechanics, and you were soon tossed into the hustle and bustle of the day-to-day life of a Resistance member.

It was hard at first; you felt like you didn’t fit in. You tried to be friendly, really, but you weren’t there to make friends, you were there to win a war. You understand that companionship was one of the most important things in the Resistance (you needed to trust your team, and your team needed to trust you), but to the top dogs of the Resistance, you were just a mere mechanic that was there to fix their ships after a mission.

All of that changed when you actually met Poe.

He’d practically crashed his X-Wing on the tarmac and climbed out without a scratch on him, like it was no big deal. He was even smiling as the other Resistance members rushed over, expecting him to be half dead, and he even had the gall to ask, “Where’s the fire?”

“Your ship,” you’d replied, running over to help put said fire out.

“Ah,” he’d said, shrugging. “It’s just a scratch, it’ll buff right out.”

It did not, in fact, ‘buff right out’, and you knew this personally because you were the one assigned to help fix his ship.

And you say ‘help’, because Poe Dameron is a stubborn bastard, and likes things done his way, so he was constantly over your shoulder as you tried to fix his ship, but you both just ended up compromising, and he joined you. Once he’d cleaned up after his crash landing, you realised that he was as handsome as his posters, but he wasn’t as conceited as you thought he would be. Of course, he knew how good looking he was, but he was at least humble about it.

That’s how your friendship started.

He’d talked to you about your home planet, and he told you about his. You both – oddly – bonded over the deaths of your mothers. Where yours was but a few years ago, long after you were an adult, your heart broke for him when he revealed he was only 8 when his mother passed away. He’d told you that she was one of the reasons he loved flying so much.

Your friendship only grew more as he went out on more missions and requested for you to help fix his ship. Then it turned into inviting you out for drinks with him and his squad, then dinner together after a hard day working, and offers of going off world, to ‘check out that market’ that you’d heard so much about, and as they say; the rest was history.

You weren’t sure when you’d fallen in love with him. It had slowly grown within you, like a flower blooming in the springtime; its roots weaved through your heart, seeking sustenance from every moment that you shared together. At first, it was subtle, like a faint whisper in the wind, barely noticeable, but you knew you felt…something. You put it down to kinship – he was your first friend in the Resistance and had taken you under his wing with no judgement. But you soon realised it was more than that.

You found yourself seeking him out, wanting to spend time with him. His laughter became the melody to which your heart danced, and his smile the sun that warmed your entire being. As days turned into nights and seasons changed, the love you felt for him deepened. Each day brought new discoveries, new reasons to cherish him. Love, it seemed, had quietly taken root and flourished, transforming your world in ways you could have never imagined, never imagined for yourself.

But then…he asked out that new pilot on Blue Squad, Taslet.

Then Tracey from droid repair.

Then that Twi’lek girl from the medbay…her name escapes you.

And you’ve come to realise that Poe Dameron would never settle down. He was too much of a free spirit or something of that kind. It hurt, to know that you would never really be together, but you would rather have him as a friend than nothing at all.

And over your dead body Poe would ever find out about your feelings for him.

You’d been in the Resistance for two years now, and you have only grown closer to Poe, and gained more friendships with his squad. And you love him, you’ve established that, but you’re about to punch your best friend in the face.

“I said no, Poe,” you say to him.

“Come on,” he replied, giving an overexaggerated groan. “You haven’t dated a single person since coming here – “

“It’s almost as if I came here for a different reason other than dating around,” you say, rolling your eyes as you stomp your way into the hangar, where Poe had obviously put some damage to his ship, again, and now you had to fix it.

This time, it was just a paint job.

Poe whines your name. “Come on, let me set you up.”

“I’m not interested, Poe,” you say, giving him a laugh as you reach his X-Wing. “Besides, I don’t even think anyone here is remotely concerned in dating me.”

He pauses for a moment as you climb onto his wing, focusing your attention on the deep scratches that were left there by Maker knows what. You frown at them, knowing that there’s some matching X-Wing paint somewhere on base, when Poe’s next words throw you.

“I might know someone.”

Your eyes meet his, a mixture of disbelief and curiosity on your face. You merely raise an eyebrow at him.

He gives you a dopey smile. “I might be interested.”

“’Might’ be?” you ask him, your eyebrow still raised.

“Okay, I am definitely interested.”

Your eyes widen a little, your body tensing. He said it so casually. How is he not sweating? The thought of you admitting your feelings to him sets you on edge all the time, and you have to go to a quiet place to calm down. Yet here he was, just…just telling you.

“You’re not serious,” you say, giving a nervous laugh. You’re giving him the opportunity to take it back, to say he’s joking.

He’s not. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be? You’re good looking, you’re great to talk to, I trust you with my life, and my ship. You’re great with BB, why wouldn’t I want to date you?”

You snort in amusement. “You’re just saying all’a this – “

“No, I want to date you. Let me take you out.”

You look at him in disbelief, that smug grin on his face as he just…stands there, looking at you with his hands on his hips, as if he’d just told you how his day went.

You give a small laugh. “No.”

That wiped the grin off his face.

“Why not?” he asked, his brow furrowing, showing off that cute little crease between his eyebrows that you’d imagined yourself kissing away a million times.

You couldn’t answer that. It’s not because you didn’t know why, it’s because the reason might change your friendship forever. He was just teasing you, trying to make you feel better about ‘not dating anyone’. So you tell him so, that he’s just saying that because he’s just put his foot in it.

Poe shakes his head. “No, no, that’s not true – “

“You’ve literally been with every unavailable person on base, Poe,” you tell him.

“Be reasonable,” Poe said, giving you a look. “It’s not every available person.”

“It’s enough,” you say, giving him a grin. You hop down from his X-Wing, standing in front of him. “I think you’re a great guy, Poe, but you’re just…I wouldn’t date you.”

He looks at you still, with a determined look on his face.

You take his silence as a sign to continue. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way but…but you…you’re – “

“You can call me a slut, it’s okay,” he says, grinning at you.

You shake your head immediately, reaching to run your hands through your hair in frustration, lightly gripping at your roots. “No, Poe, that’s not what I’m saying – “

“Then just spit it out,” he says, almost laughing in frustration. “It’s me.”

You sigh and drop your arms, before averting your gaze. “You’re not a relationship kind of guy. You date a lot and fuck around a lot, and that’s okay…for you. But that’s not…I don’t want that.”

Poe goes quiet as he studies you. He doesn’t say anything as you finally looked back at him, your cheeks warm and you shift uneasily from one foot to the other under his scrutinising gaze. His eyes, like pools of warm caramel, seem to pierce through you, as though probing into areas of thoughts you've long kept long hidden from him, and the world. A faint flicker of amusement dances at the corners of his lips, hinting at the secrets he might already have unravelled from you, and the look on your face. The silence between you stretches as the weight of his gaze continues to bear down on you.

You find yourself feeling self-conscious, as though you’ve been laid bare before him.

“I can be a ‘relationship kind of guy’,” he says, the corners of his lips twitching again in mirth. “For you.”

“Stop,” you say, shaking your head as you turn away from him, suddenly desperate to find that paint for his X-Wing.

“No, I won’t,” he said, having no problem keeping up with you, even when you sped up. “You won’t date me because…I’ve slept with a few people?”

“I just want something serious, Poe,” you say, sighing as you stop and turn around to look at him. “Like I said, it’s okay that you’re not. You can sleep with whoever you want. We’re in the middle of a war, there’s no room for relationships, right?”

Poe looks at you with an uneasy look on his face. “I’m trying really hard not to be insulted here.”

“No, this isn’t…” you heave a heavy sigh and rub your hands over your face. You feel stressed. This isn’t how you imagined your day going. It was supposed to be a slow day, there were no missions, no supply runs, where you could get on with the small repairs you’d been putting off.

But no. Poe had to try and convince you to go out on a date. With him.

“I’m not bothered that you’ve…that…to put it nicely, that you’ve fucked around, okay?” you ask. “I know you. I know you’re safe and use protection, you’re not an idiot. I get it. Commitment just isn’t your thing.”

You’re met with silence again. He’s just staring at you; the crease in between his eyebrows is back again. You both stand there for so long that you look around nervously, about to tell him that you’re going to find the paint for his X-Wing but he cuts you off before you could get another word in.

“I’m going to change your mind.”

You blink at him, your mouth falling open a bit. You weren’t expecting that.

“It’s nice that you don’t judge me for having sex. And I have had a lot of sex,” said Poe, grinning dopily at you. “But I’m going to prove to you that I can be serious. I can be serious with you.”

You shake your head, knowing that he won’t last as long as he thinks he will, before turning away from him. “We’ll see. Now help me find the paint for your X-Wing.”

Poe is persistent.

He’d greeted you at your door every day with a cup of caf, a lava roll, and a big smile, BB-8 usually spinning around at his feet, beeping at you happily. You’d walk together to the hangar, where you would share the lava roll.

He’d invite you to have lunch with him, where he’d ask you about your day so far, and you would tell him about the repairs you’d been assigned with that day.

At the end of the day, he’d walk you back to your quarters, where he would ask you out for dinner, as a date.

And you said no. Every time.

He would just grin at you and tell you he’d see you tomorrow.

Where he started the cycle again.

After the third week, you took a seat with Finn and Rey in the cantina for lunch – the first one without Poe since he was with the General for a mission debrief.

“Hi guys,” you greet them, placing your tray of food down as you sit opposite Finn. You tucked in immediately; you were starving.

“How’re you doing?” Rey asked you, a kind smile on her lips.

“Can’t complain,” you reply, shrugging. “You?”

“Not so bad,” she replied.

“You dating Poe yet?” Finn asked you.

You chuckled as you continued to eat your food. “Nope.”

“C’mon, put the guy out of his misery,” Finn said, smirking at you.

“Poe is fine,” you say, shaking your head and rolling your eyes, giving Finn a good-natured grin. “Stay out of it.”

“It’s sad,” teased Finn. “All he does is pout about how you won’t go out with him.”

“He’s doing it to prove a point,” you say. “He’s not serious.”

“Who’s not serious?” a voice asks behind you, and the three of you look up to see Jess and Karé joining you.

Rey told them how you were talking about you not accepting Poe’s offers of a date.

“You’re already dating him,” Jess said causally, taking a seat next to you as Karé sits opposite her and next to Rey.

You snort in amusement. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” she said, giving you a pointed look. “He comes to get you every morning and you have lunch every day. That’s dating.”

“No, we did that all the time before,” you say. “We’re friends.”

“But you want more, right?” Karé asks, giving you a pointed look. “Because we’ve all seen how you look at Poe. It’s like he hung the stars.”

Your mouth falls open. “N-no! No, you’re wrong. He’s just…we’re just…”

“I don’t know why you’re so weird about it, he feels the same way,” Karé said, casually eating her food.

Your heart races as at her admission, and your stomach fluttering with nervous anticipation. Your mind reels, grappling with disbelief. You find yourself questioning the authenticity of Karé’s words. She was just saying that. That’s the silliest thing you’ve ever heard. Poe doesn’t like you like that.

Does he?

It's too good to be true, isn't it? You've dreamt about this moment countless times in your time here, but now that it's supposedly happening, scepticism creeps in like a dark shadow, almost like a plague on your self-esteem. You feel all your insecurities come rushing to the surface, because your friends surely are only making you feel better about your unrequited feelings for Poe.

The thought of allowing yourself to believe it feels like stepping onto thin ice, afraid of it cracking beneath your feet. You've built up walls to protect yourself from disappointment, and now someone is asking you to tear them down based on a mere observation, from word of mouth. You don’t believe it.

“No he doesn’t,” you say finally.

“Honey,” Jess says, giving you a grin. “He’s been trying to get you to agree that you’re dating for weeks.”

“We’re not – “

“Stop, please, you’re giving us all a migraine,” Karé said, almost annoyed. “We all know you’re worried about his reputation, but why should it matter? He’s a good guy who enjoys intimacy, there’s nothing wrong with it. It’s still the same Poe.”

“I don’t have a problem with it, it’s just…” you go quiet before sighing, then lean in. “What if, after a while, he realises I’m not what he wants? What if I’m too serious for him? Because I don’t date around.”

“You don’t think Poe will want to be in a relationship?” Rey asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

You nod. “I’ve talked about this with Poe, but he’s determined to prove me wrong.”

Your friends look at you silently, before Jess eventually shrugs at you.

“So let him.”

“Hey,” you call up to Poe, who was messing with the control panel of his X-Wing.

He looks at you at the sound of your voice before giving you a thousand-watt smile. “Hey there.”

“Can we talk? Please?” you ask.

Poe’s brow furrows in confusion but he wastes no time in climbing out of his X-Wing and standing in front of you, his look of confusion slowly melting into one of concern as he asks you what’s happened.

You’d been thinking about Karé’s words all day, and how your other friends hadn’t denied it. In fact, they seemed to agree. And after thinking about it…maybe they were right.

Maybe it's the way Poe smiles when he sees you, or the genuine warmth in his eyes when you talk. Perhaps it's the way he goes out of his way to spend time with you, or the way he laughs at your terrible jokes a little too eagerly. You had always thought he was just being friendly, but he…he didn’t act like that around the other who he’d slept with.

You’d started to entertain the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Karé was right all along. Maybe Poe did like you in the same way as you do with him. And in that moment of acceptance, a surge of exhilaration had coursed through your veins, and you suddenly found yourself in the hangar.

You refuse to let fear or doubt hold you back any longer.

“Okay,” you say, taking a breath as you look at him. “So this…this is going to be long so just…just stay with me please.”

Poe nodded. “Okay.” He places his hands on his hips as he looks at you.

Oh God, why does he always have to look so good. It wasn’t fair that the Maker made this man into a perfect specimen. A caring, wonderful, funny specimen.

“I just want you to know that I love you.”

Poe slowly smiles at you. “I love you too.”

“No, no,” you say, giving him a firm look. “I love you.”

He falters, his smile fading a little as he stared at you.

Your heart stops.

Oh, shit, everyone was wrong.

You start scrambling.

“I’m sorry to throw this on you,” you say quickly, trying to correct your mistake. “It’s just that you’ve been trying to get me to go on a date with you for weeks and I just thought it was for fun, you know? That it was a bit, but then I thought that maybe it wasn’t, that you were serious, that you actually want to take me out on a date – “

He interrupts you by calling your name, but you don’t hear him over your babbling.

“ – and I really want to go out with you, like so much, and I know I was a dumbass and thought that you couldn’t be sincere, since you…well, you know why, and I’m sorry that it came across as me being judgemental, because I was, a little bit – “

He tries to interrupt you again with your name.

“ – but I was an idiot and I’m sorry, I’m sorry for saying you couldn’t be serious enough for a relationship, I’m sorry for stringing you along for the last few weeks, it’s not fair on you, I should be more considerate to your feelings – “

He shouts your name, causing you to jump at the sudden volume. You look at him with wide eyes, breathless after your rant. You both stare at each other for a moment, and you can feel the panic claw at your throat at the unreadable look on his face. You can always know what Poe is feeling, what Poe is thinking, and it’s unnerving to know that you don’t know what’s going to happen.

Eventually, he reaches out to you, and holds you by your upper arms. “What’s brought this one?”

“Karé told me you like me,” you say quickly. “In a like-like way.”

Poe looked at you for a moment before he broke into a grin and started chuckling to himself.

Now you look confused.

“You are a dumbass,” he says, still laughing.

You couldn’t help but laugh with him. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising. Listen,” Poe says, giving a dramatic sigh as his hands slides down your arms and hold your hands. “I’m not going to lie, it did hurt when you said you wouldn’t date me because I’d…slept around. I understand, though, that it can be a little much.”

You bite your lip nervously before looking at the floor, shamefully.

“Hey, no, don’t look away,” said Poe, before grinning when you look back up at him. “I want you to know that you mean the world to me. And more. And I love you too.”

You give him a slow, dopey smile.

“And although you’ve been ‘stringing me along’ for a weeks,” he says, giving you a teasing look, causing you to giggle. He gives your hands a squeeze. “I still love you and want to date you. Now, will you go out on a date with me?”

You grin excitedly before nodding. “Yes, I will go out on a date with you.”

“Finally!” said Poe, grinning at you. “I was starting to lose faith in myself!”

“I just don’t want to miss out having a lava roll first thing, they’re always the first to go,” you say teasingly, pulling him towards you as you wrap your arms around his waist.

He immediately slid his arms around you too.

It felt food. Natural. Like you were meant to be doing this the whole time.

“Oh so you don’t want me to be with you for love, you just want me to bring you lava rolls and caf every morning,” Poe teases back.

You grin and nod. “Mhm.”

“Now I know where I stand.”

“Bet all your other partners will be upset they’ll never get lava rolls and caf.”

“They never got them anyway.”

#star wars #poe dameron x reader #poe x reader #poe dameron x gn!reader #poe x gn!reader #gn!reader #poe dameron #poe #oscar isaac

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netmors · 5 months

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STAR WARS: Eleventh Fleet AU

And again the concept art in the "Eleventh Fleet"...

This time will be the Supreme Admiral Ba'kif and beholder Brierly Ronan. A post about human will be the following, and now “thoughts out loud - part third” about the old, who has seen life, chiss.

Admiral's design was exemplary "officer, concise and practical", only thing that showed his high status - the white form and honor chains (which are "individual", and not all, like Thrawn's, kriff, I will have to redo the chains in the future).

Kivu'raw'nuru, the future Mitth'raw'nurudo, unconsciously adopted such a practical image for himself.

At the beginning of the stories of Karyn and Eli, former Supreme General took the highest position in the hierarchy of the Chiss navy fleet. Perhaps it was this event that the fleet saved from the catastrophe that led to the civil war in the dominance, and then the war with the grysks, which lasts up to the events of the "Ahsoka".

The cost of salvation of fleet personally for Ba'kif became a scar passing on the left side of the face. Ronan couldn't completely remove him with the help of the created bacta's analogue, but he saved his face from more serious damage.

The future director of the UAG is a universal analytical group, in fact, a lot will do a lot for its unexpected protector. Admiral, in turn, will secretly help his protege. It is Ba'kif who will help Lyron (chiss interpretation of the name Brierly Ronan) to attract, and then make Stybla's Family with his ally.

And Ronan was able to make an analogue of hot chocolate, and Ba'kif now drinks this drink in liters. And when Vanto showed that you can still add different “toppings” to the drink (Eli made such drinks for Un'hee), the seasoned admiral discovered a whole “marvelous new world”. However, this is a secret for nine seals.

And the reserves for the preparation of the "caf" were captured by Ar'alani and Mak'ro.

By the way, Stybla Family is no less interesting "house" than the same Mitth. One information about them is worth it. But more on this is another time.

Hmm, and in addition to the thoughts of Ba'kif … If you imagine how the character sounds, then the voice acting of Peter Kallen, the voices of Optimus Prime, would be just perfect. Well, Andrei Yaroslavtsevin the russian version too (seriously, listen to his voice, he voiced Prime very well) ///v///

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lincolndjarin · 9 months

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Best Kept Secret

chapter fifteen : two tea parties (RE-UPLOAD)

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 5.4k

summary : reader and din have a tea party, just not with each other

warnings, etc. : language, angst

A/N : i had to change accounts so this is a re-upload of my ongoing fic bks!!

“What did you do to her?”

Her voice breaks through his sleepy haze as he sits up properly.

“Excuse me?” He can’t seem to remember her name as he struggles to his feet. She pokes a finger into his chest, for someone staring down a bounty hunter she sure seemed to have a lot of confidence in her ability to intimidate him.

“The princess. What did you do to her? She’s got bruises, she’s hardly eating, and she’s all melancholy in there. And I think you’ve got something to do with it.”

Shit, shit, shit.

He has several responses forming in his mind right now, all of which would make him appear guiltless. Then his stupidly tired brain decides he’s taking too long so instead he blurts out the first words to force their way out.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

He couldn’t be more of an idiot.

The woman grabs his arm and starts dragging him away from your door. He could easily resist but he’s so embarrassed by his own fuck up he doesn’t bother as she pulls him towards an unfamiliar part of the castle, descending staircase after staircase until they reach the servants quarters and she shoves him into a room. It’s about the size of the cabin, a small kitchen in one corner, a sofa in the other, a fireplace with small burning embers dimly illuminating the stone walls, and a twin bed in the back. He recognizes the girl currently snoring softly under the blankets as your other servant.

“Sit.” The Togruta girl snaps at him, pointing at the wooden table.

Of course this is where he decides to finally take a stand and he crosses his arms, staring at her.

Doesn’t last for long as she starts setting things up at the stove.

“Sit or I’m not giving you any caf.” She doesn’t bother turning around and he doesn’t bother resisting further at the promise of caffeine as he sits at the table.

He doesn’t speak as she puts a pot on the stove to boil. He feels a bit like a child who’s about to be scolded. For several minutes the only sounds are the other girl's soft snores and the crackle of the fire as he tries to keep his eyes open.

He must have fallen asleep for a second because he jolts upright as she slams a mug down in front of him.

“Drink. You look like shit.”

“You have no idea what I look like.” He mutters as his hand grips the mug.

“I do. You look like shit and you look like you haven’t slept in days. Drink.”

She says as she walks over to the bed, facing the wall and blocking his view of the other girl. “Be quick about it.” She takes a sip from her own mug. “Tell me when you’re done.”

In any other scenario he would refuse, or at the very least protest but he hasn’t had caf in a long time, he misses the bitter taste, and he should probably have his wits about him for the conversation they’re about to have. So he releases the airlock and lifts his helmet, quickly swallowing down the mug.

The fact that he’s a little intimidated by the woman has nothing to do with his sudden obedience. At least that’s what he tells himself as he locks his helmet back in place.

“I’m finished.” He can feel the familiar buzz of the caffeine as it flows through his system as he temporarily gets to feel a bit more conscious.

“Good.” She turns and walks over, taking a seat across from him as she stares at him expectantly.

His hands get clammy and he can feel his palms sticking to the insides of his gloves.

This must be what his bounties feel like when he interrogates them.

“What did you do to her?” She finally breaks the silence, continuing to glare at him.

That’s a good question.

He had loved you.

There isn’t a doubt in his mind about that.

He had been limited to only showing it to you physically, and when you had shown him a glimmer of something outside of that realm he had turned that love into something ugly.

And now, mere days later he has to wonder if he made the wrong choice.

He can’t exactly backtrack. He said terrible things to you. His own words from that night echo around in his helmet, taunting him.

What did he do to you?

He was starting to get a little worried that he might have broken you.

You had spent all day scribbling in the library like a woman possessed. Truly that could have nothing to do with him though, he’s certain he couldn’t have possibly meant that much to you. Enough to drive you mad.

The Togruta girl snaps her fingers in front of the helmet.

“Hey, shiny, snap out of it. I know you had something to do with it so start talking.”

Okay, maybe he did have something to do with it.

No, what does she know about what had happened between the two of you? Well apparently she has wickedly good intuition, and he did basically already confess.

“I’m not sure.” He wishes his voice didn’t tremble slightly but he can’t help it.

“You aren’t sure…?” She grumbles as she finishes her mug. “Why don’t you start at the beginning. Tell me what happened.”

And there’s no rational reason to.

Or at the very least, there’s no rational reason to tell her the truth.

And maybe it’s because he’s so tired.

Or maybe it’s because this girl reminds him of someone he once knew, before he took this job.

But he tells her.

He leaves out a lot of the gorey details but he gives her the gist, she sits quietly the entire time as he whispers the things that transpired. And when he’s done he expects her to maybe tell him he did the right thing by ending it, or offer him words of comfort for what’s happened but instead she squints her eyes as she stares him down.

“You’re an idiot.” She says matter of factly as she leans back in her chair.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. You are dumb as shit.”

“I did what needed to be done. Things were getting out of hand.”

She scoffs.

“Out of hand? So you’re allowed to do nice things for her like buy her jewelry, and take her on little dates in the garden, but she isn’t allowed to do them for you? Seems pretty stupid to me. And your game is dumb, if you want to know things about her all you have to do is ask, the poor girl would talk to the walls if they’d talk back.” She takes the pot and pours herself another mug of caf, filling his as well. He doesn’t touch it. “And you say you don’t like her rules but it sounds to me like you’re the one who needed them, she didn’t break any rules you didn’t break first.”

He crosses his arms in front of him, ready to retort but every response dies on his tongue.

She’s right.

And he doesn’t want to have to ask her for advice but there’s no one else to ask.

“So what do I do? How do I fix this?”

She chokes a bit on her caf.

“Fix it? Oh hon, you’ve done a lot of damage in a short amount of time.”

If she could see through the steel she’d see the way his ears tinged pink in embarrassment.

“So I shouldn’t do anything?” Even he knows he sounds way too sullen.

She sighs and contemplates for a moment.

“Look… normally I’d say yes. But I can’t deny that she seemed happier on days when things were okay with the two of you.”

“So what should I do?” He leans forward a bit in his seat.

“I’d start with an apology, and you better make it good, especially after what you’ve put her through.”

“Okay. Tomorrow I will try that.”

He does, try, that is. The most he gets out is static, a crackle of his modulator before he shuts right up. He’s pretty sure you notice.

“And then, no more lies. No more beating around the bush. If you’re going to put her through this again you need to be certain and you need to be honest. No more pretending it’s just physical, you tell her exactly what you want and exactly how you feel.”

He also tried that. After Kodo had struck you he had pulled together all of his resolve and told himself that he would just spit it out. Instead he had accidentally insulted you and threatened your husband.

“Okay, I can do that. Umm… What about Kodo?” She takes another sip as he speaks.

“What about him?”

“Should I not take into account the fact that she’s married?”

She laughs, a genuine chuckle.

“Have you seen them together? She looks at him like he’s some mud that she’s accidentally stepped in. Look, if they were happy together, or if I ever thought they could work it out then I might tell you to back off but trust me, those two will never make it work. He’s a pathetic excuse for a man.”

He’s a bit taken aback by her words.

“Now go. I’m gonna get some shut-eye, I’d tell you to do the same but I know you won’t.”

He stands, nodding at her.

“And take the caf. You need it more than I do, if you’re gonna insist on not sleeping.” She sets hers down as she stretches her arms above her head. He takes his mug gratefully in his hands.

“...Thank you.”

She only nods in response, he opens the door of her quarters.

“Mandalorian.”

His hand is on the doorknob as he turns to look back at the woman.

“Don’t play with her. Either leave her alone or put in the effort.”

He hesitates for a moment before he leaves.

✩

When your eyes flutter open the first thing you think is that your face should be hurting, your lip should be much more swollen.

But when your fingers poke at your lip you find it to be mostly healed.

You stand and leave the closet, walking over to the mirror and inspecting your wounds. There’s no trace of the red welt you would have thought you’d have. The only trace of the incident is a faint pink and white line through your lip.

Finding the vial on the bed you carefully walk over to the mirror and apply another layer to the mark as Elaine and Lysa knock once as a warning before stepping into the room. You set the tube down on the vanity.

It’s another hazy morning.

They really are all blending together when you don’t have things to do.

You’re dressed in a lacy orange gown. It’s flowy and cool, it seems like it would be perfect for a day in the gardens. Before you even realize what you’re doing you turn to Elaine.

“Would you like to have tea with me today?” You have no idea what inspires you to ask such a question and you’re sure she’ll say no. That she’ll tell you it isn’t proper for a servant to do such a thing with you but instead she nods.

“That would be lovely, my lady. Where would you like to have it?” She wipes her hands on the front of her dress as she gives you a patient smile.

“How about the gardens? There’s that gazebo by the water we could sit at.”

✩

You have no idea when she instructed someone to set it up but as the two of you walk towards the gardens there is miraculously already a table with chairs set up inside. A tray of tea steaming in the center of it all.

You walk in silence, in all honestly it would probably be a comfortable silence if it weren’t for the looming presence of the Mandalorian behind you. Once the two of you step into the wooden structure, taking your seats you clear your throat, awkwardly, seeing him standing beside you in your peripherals.

Elaine stares at him and the both of you sit, looking at each other uncomfortably until you finally turn and speak to him.

“Can we have some privacy?” You shoot him a look as you say it and he takes a single, theatrical step back.

Jackass.

You’re about to just give up, he’s never wavered previously, why would he start now? But Elaine speaks up.

“I believe she asked for privacy.”

You lean over towards her to tell her it’s useless, there’s no sense in arguing with him but your eyes go wide as he begins to walk away. You turn to stare at Elaine like she just performed an act of god.

As the Mandalorian starts walking along the edge of the water you can’t seem to pick your jaw up off the floor, you have more questions than ever for her but none of them seem to flow, so she speaks first.

“Do you want to talk about what happened at dinner last night?” She’s pouring tea into the mugs, mixing a generous amount of sugar and cream into yours.

“You heard about that?” The nearly invisible mark on your face stings at the memory.

“Servants talk, I’m afraid it was inevitable that I would hear of it. Do you want to tell me what happened?” She hands you the mug and you take it in both your hands.

She doesn’t ask if you’re okay.

Like she knows you couldn’t possibly be.

“Not really. There isn’t much to talk about, it all happened really fast.” You take a sip, it’s sweet just like the caf she makes you, it warms your tongue and puts you at ease.

She hums softly, sipping her own, much darker tea.

“He’s always had a temper that one, the king and queen did not keep a close enough eye on him growing up, and when no one ever says no it’s easy to quickly become a little monster.” She frowns as she speaks and you have to fight to keep the surprised look off your face, the servants never spoke ill of him.

You know this is probably a dangerous conversation but at this point you’re so lonely and things can’t possibly get worse.

“Honestly, I’m just surprised it didn’t happen sooner. I knew with his pattern of behavior it was inevitable.” You mutter.

She has a breathy sad laugh.

“Smart girl.” She raises her cup towards Mando. He looks like a kid being left out of a game on the playground as he kicks a stone into the lake. “He seems more upset about it than you.” She raises her eyebrows, now you’re really treading dangerous waters.

“Mando? He doesn’t care, I think he just doesn’t want me getting banged up because it makes him look like he’s bad at his job.” Deep down you know that isn’t the case.

“Really? So he wasn’t the one who tore that book in half that I found in the hallway this morning?” She takes another sip as she stares at him out across the water, you choke on your tea.

“In half?” Your voice is a shocked whisper. It had been by no means a short book. It had been a hardcover, thick encyclopedia.

“In half. Took Leo quite some time to pick up all that shredded paper.” She chuckles. Setting down her mug as she stares at you with an intensity you weren’t prepared for.

She takes a deep breath that has you nervously tapping your nails against your cup.

“I know that it’s hard, being in your position, to find people to confide in. But if you ever need to talk about something that’s bothering you, I am available, my lady. And I can be extremely discreet.” She folds her hands in her lap as you stare down at them. Unable to meet her gaze.

What a breath of fresh air it would be, to have a friend, with no other complicated feelings. But you can’t just tell her what you’ve done.

“I am not blind, princess. It’s my job to make sure you’re okay. And I know for a fact that you were doing more than okay for a few days and in an instant I saw all of that disappear.” She tilts her head down so she’s in your eyeline and you’re sure your face has a look of guilt on it.

If it was just your life on the line you’d probably tell her everything. Just to get it out. But it’s not just your life, it’s his. You shudder as you imagine the things Kodo would do to him if he found out.

But you could twist the truth.

Tell her harmless details and maybe still find some comfort.

“He had been my friend. Briefly.” Your words are careful and deliberate.

She nods, picking up her glass once more. Staying silent as an invitation for you to keep going.

“At least… I thought he was my friend. Now I sort of think he might have just been messing with me.” You’re still being cautious with every detail you reveal. Keeping it simple and innocent. “And I guess he got bored. It’s confusing, I can’t keep up with him, it makes my head spin because he keeps changing.”

“Changing?”

She picks up the teapot, refilling your mugs.

“It’s… hard to explain. It’s like, he’s a different person everyday. Some days he can’t stand me and some days he-“ You manage to catch yourself before you go one step too far. “Some days he cares for me. I’m starting to wonder if he just enjoys making me miserable.” You pour another spoonful of sugar into your mug.

“I think he cares for you very much.” She says it so matter of factly that you almost roll your eyes at the notion.

“I doubt that. If that is the case he has a really fucked up way of showing it.”

“Look at him.” She nods out towards the lake and when you turn he’s crouched down next to the edge of the water.

He’s deadly still for a moment and then he slowly reaches down and scoops something up from the surface of the water. Holding it close to his helmet as he stands. Completely focused on whatever is in his hand.

He looks strangely domesticated.

You watch as what you now realize is a frog, jumps out of his hand back into the lake.

He stares at his empty palm for a long time.

“He looks like a lost puppy without you. I have to wonder what he was doing before he took this job because it seems like he doesn't know what to do with himself when he isn’t wagging his tail and trailing behind you.” She chuckles and you can’t help but laugh softly with her.

It feels good to laugh.

It feels less good to blurt out your next question.

“Have you ever, umm… talked to him?” You don’t want to ask it, it feels so childish but you can’t help it as you turn back to face her, hoping there isn’t any lingering jealousy in your tone.

“A little bit. Enough to know that I’m right, he does care for you.”

You cough awkwardly.

“What did he say?”

You catch her smirk right before she takes another sip.

“Mostly he seemed to have a lot of excuses. But I think his real issue is just that he’s scared.”

Huh.

It’s difficult to picture him scared of anything.

“Scared?”

“I think this is a conversation you should be having with him.”

“But he won’t talk to me, the first time he’s spoken to me all week was only because of what Kodo did.”

“It isn’t my place to tell you how to deal with him. I just know that you seemed happier when things were good between the two of you.”

It’s quiet for a few minutes as the two if you drink and you come to terms with her words. She speaks first.

“He doesn’t sleep either.”

“What?”

“The Mandalorian. He isn’t sleeping. He just sits in front of your door all night.”

You had suspected that to be the case but the confirmation makes your heart skip a beat.

“He just sits there? What is he doing?”

“I only see him there in passing, I do a lot of my errands at night, I’m more productive when I’m the only one roaming the castle. It seems like he’s just waiting for you.”

You frown.

“Waiting for me to do what?”

She laughs.

“He’s just waiting for you.”

There’s that ache in your chest. She leans forward to give you a sympathetic look, your pain must show on your face.

“How about we talk about something else for a bit?” Her voice is soft and comforting as you nod.

“What about you, do you have a special someone?” You laugh for a moment until you realize your slip up and the color drains from your face. “Like, a friend.”

Real smooth, dummy.

She doesn’t seem fazed though as she grins.

“Yeah, I’ve got a special friend.” She laughs to herself and you relax a bit. She looks towards the lake and back at you before raising her eyebrows. He’s walking back over as she changes the subject. “What are you planning on wearing tomorrow?”

You can’t help but laugh.

“How should I know? You and Lysa always pick for me.” She rolls her eyes at your response.

“I meant to the ball.”

The confusion must be apparent on your face because she sighs.

“Of course no one told you. Maker, is anyone else in the castle capable of treating you like a person other than me?” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Kodo’s birthday is tomorrow. He makes a big deal of it every year, it’s a huge party, you of course will be expected to attend.”

You don’t bother stifling your groan.

“And I absolutely have to go to this?”

She pats your knee as she leans back in her chair, eyeing the Mandalorian up and down as he walks into the gazebo, standing on the opposite side of it, away from the two of you.

“I’m afraid you do, but don’t fret, he’s always so preoccupied during this thing that you won’t have to worry about staying for long. You’ll just need to make an appearance as his wife for a bit and you should be able to leave after a few hours if you'd like. It tends to get a bit rowdy as the night goes on so I suggest getting out once the opportunity presents itself.”

You nod, this must be is what it feels like to have a friend.

It makes you realize that you and the Mandalorian had never really been friends, that was completely different than what this was. With him there was always something more there, something demanding your attention that you always managed to ignore. With Elaine it’s easy to just talk without any other feelings lingering in the air.

“I suppose I will wear whatever you decide is best.” You give her a grin.

“If that is what you wish.”

“But not blue.” She raises an eyebrow as you say that but she’s smirking.

“Excellent choice.”

Your eyes dart over to the Mandalorian, he’s facing away from the two of you, giving you a false sense of privacy as you look back to Elaine.

“And not green.”

“As you wish, my lady.”

You don’t talk about much else of importance after that. She tells you that she wants to make dresses someday, and you tell her about some of the romance novels you’ve read.

The Mandalorian stays in the gazebo, a reminder to keep things light.

She tells you that Lysa is a rather talented piano player, and that Leodall dreams of one day becoming a lord or a duke. It’s nice, casual. You want to do it again at some point and when you tell her that, she happily agrees.

Eventually she walks you back to the castle, he walks behind the two of you, always just out of reach until you make it back inside.

You can’t help it.

You hug her.

Mumbling a thank you, because you feel worlds better after having a conversation with someone with no tensions and no ulterior motives.

She departs and you walk to the library, reading another cheesy romance novel at your drawing table until the sun has set.

He still doesn’t speak, every so often he’ll pace the length of the room at one point you’re pretty sure he trips over nothing. How odd. You return to your quarters as always, ready to turn in for the night.

✩

Except you can’t.

You pace back and forth throughout your room. Your bare feet shuffling across the cool wood floors.

He’s ruining your sleep again.

Because now you can’t close your eyes without thinking about how he’s out there, waiting for you.

You had wanted comfort and maybe even closure from Elaine but instead you’re more confused than ever.

He wants you, he doesn’t want you, he hates you, he’s willing to die for you. None of it makes sense and he’s out there.

Your chest hurts thinking about him all alone out there every night. Even if he hates you, and doesn’t want you.

You’d feel better if he was at least sleeping out there. But no, he’s awake and aware and always there.

Is he listening in? Has he turned up the helmet to listen to the soft patter of your footsteps? Why would he be doing that? He’s supposed to not care about you, to not want you. But according to Elaine that isn’t the case? Every single hour he gets more and more confusing, you want to scream at him. You want to punch him in his stupid Beskar face. (Mostly because you know it wouldn’t really hurt him all that bad.) You want to demand answers, demand he leave you alone, or demand he take it all back.

Could you forgive him?

You’re pretty sure you want to forgive him.

You just aren’t sure if you can.

That is, of course, if he ever apologizes.

Does he want to apologize?

Why would he have said all those things in the first place if he didn’t mean them?

You don’t remember opening the door. But right now you’re staring down at him and he’s staring up at you, so you must have at one point. He’s sitting with his legs out in front of him as you take a step back, leaving the door open.

A silent invitation in.

You’re worried for a moment that he isn’t going to accept it but he slowly gets to his feet. Stretching his arms back a bit with a groan as he takes a step in.

You hadn’t seen it before but now you don’t know how you didn't realize how exhausted he looks. You don’t even know how he’s still standing as he stumbles into the room as you close the door, clicking the lock shut.

His shoulders are slumped forward, his usual imposing posture is completely gone and his helmet keeps tilting downwards before jolting back up, like he’s barely keeping his eyes open.

It’s torture, never being able to stay angry at him.

You had no plan when you’d let him in. Maybe yell at him, demand answers, demand he free you of this curse that is wanting to be his.

But you can’t do that. Not when he’s looking around like he doesn’t even know where he is. Maker, when was the last time he slept?

Reaching forward you take his hand, leading him over to the bed and sitting him down.

“Mando?” You say it like you’re speaking to a lost child who can’t find their parents.

He hums softly in response, the helmet tilting up to look at you as you give his hand a gentle squeeze.

“You’re gonna sleep here. The door is locked so you don’t have to worry about anyone taking off your helmet, okay?”

He nods and your heart stops as his hand comes up to your face. His thumb brushes over the nearly completely faded line on your lip.

“M’sorry… ner sarad’ika. Bid ni ceta.” His voice is a warm sleepy drawl and you have to close your eyes so he doesn’t see the pained look you have when he starts speaking in that soft tone, the gentle one you feel like you haven’t heard in ages, the one that’s just for you. You can’t help but wonder if he’ll remember any of this tomorrow.

“Don’t be sorry. You didn’t do this, remember? It was Kodo, not you.” You gingerly pull his hand from your face as you hold his arms, laying him down against the mattress.

You shouldn’t, not when he’s clearly so vulnerable but you can’t help yourself as you run your knuckles against the cold steel of his helmet, trying to soothe him.

“That’s not what I’m sorry about mesh’la.” His hands reach forward, asking for you, and you have to use all of your self control to not give in and just hold him. You settle for giving him your hands as you nod.

You need this to end. It’s too much and you know it’ll be gone in the morning. Once he gets some sleep he’ll be gone again. Standing behind you, your shadow. Not like right now, where he’s in front of you, and needs you. You can’t lose this again, you won’t be able to take it so you start to walk away but he pulls you down so you’re sitting next to him and he’s so gentle about it. He’s so out of it right now, he should be in his default state right now, he’s a trained killer, he should naturally be rough and aggressive with you, but he isn’t.

Even in this condition he makes a conscious choice to handle you like you might crumble to pieces if he isn’t careful.

At this point you might.

“I need to go to bed, Mando. I’ll be in the closet, right there if you need me.”

His grip on your hands tightens ever so slightly.

“Y’know that m’sorry, right? I need to know that you know.” His voice cracks on the last word and his voice is laced with a desperation you’ve never heard from him before. You even hear a little sniffle through the modulator.

Maker he must really be sleep deprived.

It feels like drowning. He’s taking you out into open waters with these words and in the morning he’ll be gone and you’ll be left without a life jacket.

“I know Mando.” His grip loosens enough for you to stand up. Your voice is strained. “I promise, I know, but I need you to get some sleep now, can you do that for me?”

He hesitates. Like he’s trying to make sure you understand.

“Okay, sarad’ika.”

He nods as he releases your hands, his shoulders relax and he’s asleep in minutes. Once you’ve certain he’s out cold you go back to the closet, leaving the door cracked in case he needs something as you curl up in your blankets.

Your hands fish around in the sheets and pillows until you find the book, pulling it out you open it and let the necklace he had given you fall out. Cradling it in your hands you trace the small charm with your fingers.

Sarad’ika.

He can’t do that to you.

He can’t just call you that again after what he did.

Bodyguard, rival, friend, protector, confidant, lover, nothing.

He decided he wanted to be nothing. So why should he get to say sweet things in Mando’a to you with no repercussions?

It makes your blood boil as you shove the necklace into one of the pillow cases, getting ready to go back out there and give him a piece of your mind but as you’re about to stand and pull yourself together you can hear rumbling, static snores from the other room.

And you can’t help but crack a smile.

He sounds like a fucking Wookiee when he snores.

Something about it makes you lay back down.

Like it reminds you that under all that perfect metal he is still only a man.

He needs sleep.

So do you.

Being angry with him can wait until tomorrow.

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#lincolndjarin #the mandalorian #best kept secret #bks #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #din dijarin x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #RE UPLOAD

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kanerallels · 2 months

Text

A little late but! Some Kanera for @monthly-challenge Februfluff day 16: caretaking

Ever since Malachor, Kanan had spent a lot of time up at odd hours. A combination of nightmares, lingering pain from his wounds, and painkillers had seen him up in the wee hours of the morning while he was recovering. Even now that things were getting back to normal, he still woke up at random hours.

Some nights he went back to sleep. Others he meditated, either in his room or out on the far edge of the base.

And other nights, like tonight, the restless energy was too much for him. So he got up, slipping out of his room quietly so as to not wake any of the others on board the Ghost.

Kanan’s goal was the kitchen, as it usually was. Sometimes he’d make caf or tea, other times he’d make himself something to eat. Ezra had joined him a few times lately, so as he made his way down the hallway, he listened carefully.

He didn’t hear anything immediately. But as he entered the lounge, he sensed a familiar presence, and it wasn’t Ezra.

“Hera?” he asked, keeping his voice low as he frowned.

“Kanan?” Surprise colored her voice, and he heard her set down what sounded like a datapad. “What are you doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Kanan said, crossing the room to stand in front of the table she was sitting at. Letting his fingertips brush the tabletop, grounding himself, he said, “Is it the same for you, or have you just not gone to sleep yet?”

Her hesitation answered the question for him, and Kanan held back a wince. Hera had always had a habit of working long hours, from the first day he’d met her. It had only grown worse since they’d joined the Rebellion. And these days it had reached a fever pitch. “When was the last time you got a full night’s sleep?” he asked.

“When was the last time you did?” Hera countered, and Kanan couldn’t hold back a grin.

“That’s different,” he said. “I’m at least trying. You’ve been up since crazy early this morning— you need rest, Hera. We need you operating at your best.”

He heard her sigh— a sigh that he recognized well. It was the stubborn one, that meant she had no intentions of listening to him. “What we need is more people in this Rebellion. Until then, I’m what we’ve got. The longer I let these things slide, the worse it’ll get.”

She’s definitely not gonna listen to me. Plan B, then. “Okay,” Kanan said with a sigh. “I’m going to make something to drink. You want something?”

“Yes, please,” Hera murmured, her voice distracting as she tapped at her datapad. Already back to work. Kanan grimaced as he headed into the kitchen. This wasn’t going to be easy.

It took him a few minutes to locate the kettle— someone had moved it from its usual place. Filling it with water, he set it on the stove and started sorting through the tea boxes in the cupboard.

Sabine had recently gone through the cupboards and relabelled everything. She’d used a Morse code inspired system of raised dots and dashes, so Kanan could still read the labels. It was still taking a little getting used to, but it certainly helped with baking. Or, in this case, locating tea.

It wasn’t long before he found the teabags he was looking for— Chandrilan tea, fairly well known for its soothing quality that helped with sleeplessness. Leaving them on the counter, he grabbed two mugs from the cupboard just as the kettle started to whistle. He was pretty certain that he’d gotten the right mugs— he and Hera had drunk caf together enough times that blind or not, Kanan would know the shape and feeling of her favorite one in his hand anywhere.

Setting them down, he carefully filled them with hot water from the kettle, and added the teabags. Leaving them to steep for a while, he went to the other side of the kitchen and started digging through the fridge. While it wasn’t absolutely necessary to his plan, Kanan was pretty sure it had been a while since Hera had eaten— thinking back, he didn’t remember her being there with them at dinner. Internally, he cursed. I’ve been way too distracted lately. That stops now.

He almost got out the ingredients for waffles— but if he did, there was no way Ezra wouldn’t be out here in less than five minutes. His apprentice had an uncanny ability to sense when Kanan was making waffles, and the last thing he needed was more people up right now. The current goal was to get Hera to sleep, not keep her awake longer.

So instead, he pulled out a container of leftover chicken pot pie and heated that up. Filling a bowl with it, he stopped to collect their two mugs and a fork, and headed back out to the lounge.

Hera was still absorbed in her datapad, and didn’t notice as Kanan set the bowl, then the mug in front of her. Kanan paused for a minute, then said, “Hera?”

“Hmm?” Her voice was distracted, and Kanan sighed.

“Sorry about this.” Reaching out, he plucked the datapad out of her hands.

“Wha— Kanan!”

Tucking the pad under his arm, Kanan reached out with the other hand and pushed the bowl in front of her. “Eat,” he said firmly. “And have some tea. I’ll give it back when you’ve finished.”

“Kanan—”

“Hera,” Kanan said, his voice a little more forceful. “Just do it.”

There was a brief pause, and Kanan could picture the struggle in Hera’s eyes. Finally, she let out a long sigh. “Fine. But I’m getting back to work after that.”

Kanan chose not to comment on that. Instead, he settled next to her with his own mug. Listening to the sound of the fork clinking against the bowl, he sipped his tea, letting the silence settle around them.

It was a little while before Hera spoke. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

Kanan smiled into his mug. “Any time, Hera. Have you drunk your tea yet?”

Letting out a huff, Hera said, “You know, you’re awfully hover-y tonight, Master Jedi.”

“Making up for lost time, Captain Hera.”

“I’m glad.” Her response was softer, a little warmer, and Kanan felt her shift a little closer to him, shoulder bumping against his.

There was a brief silence, then Hera said, “So, what’s it gonna take for me to get that datapad back?”

Kanan laughed. “Tell you what. You drink your tea, and I'll let you have your datapad back.”

“Datapad first,” Hera said. “And don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, dear. It’s not going to work.”

Handing her the pad, Kanan said innocently, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Uh-huh.”

As Hera leaned forward, picking up the mug of tea, Kanan slid nearer to her, closing the distance between them. She didn’t protest, nestling in the crook of his shoulder with a quiet sigh. Kanan wrapped her arm around her shoulders, and they settled into an easy silence.

The next little while passed by peacefully, with Hera working at her datapad and Kanan keeping her company. However, as time ticked by and Hera finished her tea, he could sense her getting more and more tired. The sound of her tapping at the datapad was less frequent, and he heard her stifle multiple yawns.

Gently, he brushed his fingertips up and down her arm, a repetitive, soothing stroke that was sure to lull her to sleep. It was one of his most surefire tactics, and it didn’t disappoint. Kanan felt her head bump against his shoulder before pulling upwards again. “I know what you’re doing,” she mumbled, her voice heavy with sleepiness.

Silently, Kanan reached out with the Force just in time to catch the datapad that slipped from Hera’s fingers. “I know,” he murmured as her head dropped against his shoulder. “You can yell at me tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” Her words trailed off into an incomprehensible hum, and Kanan smiled. It was only seconds later that he felt her breathing even out into the slow rhythm of sleep.

“Sleep well, Captain Hera,” he whispered, pressing a kiss against her temple before closing his own eyes. He had a feeling nightmares wouldn’t bother him here.

#star wars rebels #swr #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #kanera #februfluff2024 #caretaking #day 16 #writing stories is a kind of magic too

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dontbelasagnax · 7 months

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First, I love your art and your fics so much! Second, you seem like someone who has very good Codywan headcanons, and I’d love to hear some of them if you have any you’d like to share 🙂 (No pressure at all though!)

Tysm anon!!! I don't know what kind of headcanons you're looking for but I have soooo many always haha! They live in the nebulous realm of headcanons in which they are applied to every iteration of codywan unless they are not--for no reason other than vibes. All sfw but I always have thots (very intentional spelling) if anyone would like to hear about the nsfw things.

- Cody has spreadsheets for everything. It calms and organizes his mind. Helps him visualize and put the chaos to rights. When Obi-Wan notices Cody getting antsy and agitated, he gently asks him if he's made a spreadsheet recently. If that doesn't solve things, he'll offer to look over the charts together. If that doesn't solve the issue, he'll pull Cody into his lap, tenderly kiss any available real estate that needs kissing, and twirl fingers through his head of curls and massage away the tension. For all that Cody hates when his hair gets messed up, he does love being pet like a cat.

(the rest is going under the cut because I'm rather verbose)

- SPEAKING OF CATS! Cody is a cat person. This is nothing new, I just wholeheartedly know it to be true. It's only because he wants a cat so badly that he acts like he doesn't care for them. Obi-Wan sees through the facade. He saw how Cody looked at the stray tooka they rescued from the rubble one somber evening. How he cradled the lump of fluff and ran his thumb back between ears as if the lightest of touches would hurt the poor dear. How palpable was the anguish in his eyes after handing off the tooka to the surviving locals of the city. Even after he said, "Glad that's over with. Would hate to get cat hair on my blacks." Obi-Wan knows. So the next time he's on Coruscant, he buys a little orange plush tooka. It's tiny, only just bigger than his hand, but perfect. He ties a piece of flimsi reading '- OWK' to its neck with a ribbon and tucks it under the covers of Cody's bed so its head and front paws peek out. Perhaps he's a coward, perhaps he's just being gracious in letting Cody have some privacy in receiving his gift. What he does know is the next time he feels Cody staring long at the side of his face, he looks back and Cody blushes and smiles ever so slightly- shy. Oh, Obi-Wan loves him.

- Obi-Wan doesn't hate caf. It's simply not his favorite. When he does drink it, he likes it black. There could be many reasons for this but Cody thinks it's a superiority complex thing. Cody likes his caf with cream and two packets of sweetener. Sure, he'll drink any caf shoved his way, but what he truly enjoys? Yeah, it's not the shit coming straight from the dark depths of a Sith Lord's ass crack.

- Cody likes when Obi-Wan drives. Could be a ship, speeder--any mode of transport, really. It's not a secret that Obi-Wan does not like driving. With how calm and steady he remains at the wheel, there is tension in his jaw, bitten into his cheek, and clenched white into his knuckles. It stresses him out. But he is good at it. And he makes Cody feel safe. Cody doesn't get to feel safe a whole lot in the midst of war.

- Cody will never tell a living soul this (except maybe when he gets so sloshed he can't remember his name or all the reasons why he really should not lay out his honest bleeding truths) but his favorite color is not 212th gold. Yes, 212th gold is Cody's color. It's his. But blue is what he finds most aesthetically beautiful. It's the color of a certain Jedi's eyes in the sunlight and the unnatural glow of that same Jedi's lightsaber. It's the color of that Jedi's eyes in a dim room when he looks looks soft and tired, a blue that's more grey than anything resembling an actual blue. It's not one color and yet it is because he loves that color just like he loves that Jedi. He doesn't love the color just when it's pretty in one vibrant idealistic shade. He falls in love again and again when he sees it in new lights. Just like Obi-Wan.

- not to cozywan truth on main or anything but There's not a place Cody and Obi-Wan sleep better than in each other's arms. Or maybe not arms, per se, but sprawled across one another in some fashion. Touching. More often than not, in the tiny cots onboard The Negotiator, Cody ends up plastered to Obi-Wan's back, arm possessively wrapped round his front to keep him from falling off the edge. With the luxury of a bed actually made to fit two grown men, things aren't much better. Cody wakes to find he's being suffocated by Obi-Wan who, in his sleep, discovered the joys of lying directly on top of Cody. Cody's not innocent. He can count multiple occasions where he's buried his face in Obi-Wan's belly and woken up to being gently shoved away from his heated pillow because, oops, his resting place was a full bladder. Neither of them complain too much, not when it's so easy to be lulled into the warm, liquidy loose and easy clutches of cozy sleep in close quarters to the person they love. Something deep in the brain unlocks and says, 'everything's alright now, relax, let it all go--safe, safe, safe,' when Obi-Wan's cold nose finds the column of Cody's throat who's hand comes up to indulgently cards through silky hair. There's a resonating hum of rightness in their chests that says, 'home'.

#codywan #lasagna rambles #and boy did i ramble. jesus. diagnose me with long-winded bitch disease.#i love getting asks btw. poke me with a codywan stick and I'll love you forever <333 #ask box

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frostycatblr-fandom-files · 7 months

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omg yES I'd love a part two to the Captain Rex headcanons with an anxious reader with the relationship part since you offered! ;u; I loved the first part so much (and that you included more from the 501st!) tytytyty 💙💙💙

Aw anon I'm so glad! Thank you for coming back as well, and continuing to fuel my feelings for our fine captain. 💙

Warnings and Information: Largely the same as part one. Undescribed fem!Reader with unspecified anxiety/anxious tendencies. Lots of fluff and other good feelings, primarily. Follows bullet point format. No Mando'a used this time. Reader is given different "nicknames" from the Clones to by-pass the use of a name in some cases.

Word count: 2,458

The set-up

The first time he goes to ask you if you'd like to grab some caf together, or go check out that little corner store not too far from the base by speederbike that one of your coworkers mentioned to you in passing, Rex puts in the effort to clean up his armor a bit. Now he doesn't go so far as to polish and repaint all the parts, but he doesn't want to look fresh off a battlefield either where he's caked in mud and dirt and ash. He wants to show you he cares by looking nice when he goes to lay out his offer. You're past the probationary period following your transfer, and he thinks it'd be nice to sort of celebrate that.

You're in your jumpsuit, cheerfully strutting around the hangar to complete the necessary work a little earlier than usual this morning when he first sees you. "Good morning, Captain Rex!" You're all bright-eyed and sunny smiles for so early in the day. Must be in a really good mood now that you feel the weight that comes with being fresh blood in the "office" has been lifted from your shoulders. Can breathe a little easier when there are less eyes scrutinizing your every move. "You're in a good mood today." Rex replies, careful to keep the right balance of being personable and professional within earshot of other civilian staff, as always, "Is there a special reason?" Your grin and your body language tells him everything he needs to know.

"Oh, no reason. Reasons, on the other hand…" you suggest, biting your lower lip to keep yourself from giggling within earshot of those same workers that you've seen him eyeing out of caution. You can afford to be a little braver now, but you should still be cautious. Rex smiles, delighted to hear and see that you're not feeling quite so anxious as you once were. You still have your nervous, self-soothing quirks like fiddling with the wrist-strap of your time device whenever you wear one, or twirling a stylus between your nimble fingers or rocking softly on the balls of your feet. Rex doesn't see you utilize them quite as often these days now that you're off probation, and it makes him feel so much better to see you more relaxed and comfortable here.

He still asks his brothers to keep an eye on you or give you any help in his stead if he senses you becoming overly anxious about anything. Dogma still offers to take any paperwork down to General Skywalker for you (and is certain to remember to knock, now). Fives and Echo still hang out around your desk and your workspace whenever they get the chance. Tup drops by with small snacks or drinks from the mess if you can't spare a moment to get away from your work (and he'll never say no to an offer to help fix up his hair, either). Kix has been by a few times to come sit with you when the anxiety gets really bad, coaching you through your grounding exercises, or acting as a GAR medic (who has authority to treat civilian staff in non-emergency situations) he can administer something to take the edge off. And Jesse has made plausible excuses for you to your boss's face if you've needed to step away and collect yourself, if it's really severe.

They all figure if the captain likes you, and on occasion asks them to check in with you for his "peace of mind" ("Captain Rex has a cruuuuush~" "Hardcase stop before you get yourself in troub-" "It's not just the Captain, Fives. She does too.") they shouldn't be afraid to cement their friendships with you anymore.

“Oh, by the way, Captain,” you call over your shoulder as you walk off to where you’d been summoned, “your armor looks very nice today.” Unfortunately, you were called away to take care of something just as he plucks up his nerve to ask if you’d like to grab a cup of caf with him before the day really gears up, but he doesn’t have to wait much longer for another opportunity.

The first "date"

It comes as a rather impromptu and unofficial thing, with one of the mechanics shouting across the hangar as he wraps up his welding kit that the repairs have been finished on a LAAT that had taken a heavy beating. "Captain! Gunship's good to go!" These guys are good. You get to the gunship before Rex does, admiring the handiwork of the repairmen in awe. "Wow… almost looks brand new, doesn't it?" He agrees with a chuckle, elbow to elbow with you. "What's it like to fly in one of these?" you ask, turning to him with earnest curiosity. It surprises him. "Weren't you transferred to the base in one of these?"

You shake your head, the datapad cradled a little tighter against your chest. "No, I got here by passenger shuttle."

Stay here, he tells you, he has an idea. He just needs to go find where Hawk is.

Hawk takes little time to get kitted-up in order to go take the LAAT for a test flight. Rex boards the gunship first, taking hold of one of the handles overhead before offering a hand out to you to help you up.

You regard the offered hand with mild apprehension, unclear if this is even allowed. "A-are you certain I can be up there? I'm just a civilian. I don't know that I can-" A simple smile is all he needs to calm you, quell your fraying nerves. “I’ll think of some clever excuse if anyone asks.” Rex promises you with one of his charming smiles and playful lift of his brow. He allows you to stand beside him so you feel more secure, showing you where best to grip the support handles as Hawk gears everything up. “Best hold on,” he warns you before you’d feel that lurch in your stomach as the ground falls away fast.

He tells Hawk to take it pretty easy, just a few test laps around the base and not too fast, and Rex keeps his eye on you as Hawk climbs the gunship high enough for his liking. Any sign from you that this was getting to be too much, and he would call it off. But you’re all giddy smiles and awed murmurings as you bravely peek at the ground far below from time to time.

“Beginning aerial test laps, Captain. I promise to go easy, ma’am!” Hawk calls back to the pair of you, beginning to maneuver and swing the gunship out to the right, making you bump hips with the Captain, unprepared to brace for the movement with your legs in addition to your upper body. You go to apologize, but he puts his hand on your opposite hip without a word (at first) to hold you a little closer to him to help you feel secure and steady. Rex apologizes to you for not warning you about the nature of the turns. “Flown in these things more times than I can count; it’s all just second nature to me.” You suppose that makes a lot of sense, surely a little flushed in the face, being so close. On the next turn, you know to anticipate it this time, but you still lean pretty heavily against him.

What happens next however is absolutely not your fault. Hawk purposefully takes a much sharper turn as he completes one of his last laps, and with the centrifugal force you’re really pushed up against Captain Rex, practically chest to chest with him now, and then laughs apologetically from the cockpit. “Whoops, sorry sweetheart! Got a little carried away on that one. You alright?” You’re fine, you answer just loud enough for Hawk to hear, finding yourself still so close against Rex, his hand still on your hip to hold you steady. You and Rex look at each other for one long moment, almost missing what Hawk says about taking you in for a landing, feeling a little lost in the other’s eye…

Once you’re back on the ground, you thank Hawk for letting you come along on the test flight for the repaired LAAT. “Oh, you’re welcome! I hope it was nice despite that one turn. Just got a little ahead of myself and forgot you’re not used to those kinds of ships.” You promise it’s okay, and thank him again. You should probably get back to work now, you explain, a little color in your cheeks after smiling at Rex and bidding him goodbye next.

He makes no mention of the transfer-smear of lip product found on his Captain’s face, one that looks an awful lot like the color you’re wearing this morning, until he’s certain you’re out of earshot. “That’s a nice color on you, Captain.” Rex takes a moment to clean his cheek of the evidence, a gentle pout playing across his features, his broad nose creasing as he responds to Hawk’s compliment. “You swung too wide on that last turn before we landed…”

As partners

It’s not long after that that things kick off. Secretly. There’s no official code or regulation against this (you’d know: Echo and Dogma checked for one extensively, separately and together) relationship taking place, but you’re going to keep it on the down-low for the most part. Rex has a professional image to maintain as a captain of the GAR, and you risk being transferred out should any of your higher-ups feel this partnership of sorts comes as a hindrance or serious detriment to your job as a civilian. (“Do you know how many want to be in your shoes? Do you have any idea just how sought-after this position is?” “A-A very good idea, actually. That’s why I’m here, sir. I promise, I’m not going to make any trouble.” (Oh how Fives and Jesse had wanted to give the civilian staff member you reported to a piece of their minds for talking to you like that.)) You and Rex find a way to make it work, with a little help from his brothers.

He visits you during work. Often as he can. Sometimes it's planned out in advance, where the two of you have lots of time alone. He makes sure that you're doing okay, and that you're taking care of yourself, of course, but primarily these opportunities to see you are just to spend time with you. Take his mind off of the war. Take your mind off of your job, or whatever troubles you. Sometimes it's discreet, spur of the moment little meetings in empty offices… or secluded corners his brothers have told him about.

"There's a blind spot in the cameras around here," Hardcase explains, unprompted, one afternoon over nutrimush in the mess hall, "You can get away with a lot of stuff right there behind the shelving." He's not sure if he's about to reprimand Hardcase as his Captain or to thank him as a brother for this insight for a long moment. "What do you mean by get away with a lot of stuff, 'Case?" There's quite a few options it turns out. Stash some contraband, (re)paint your armor without being bothered too much, or just… y'know. Have a nap? (Damn, okay, aside from whatever Hardcase means by contraband that sounds like a pretty great spot.) "Maybe I'll… check it out." Rex agrees with a simple shrug.

Oh and if he does, he has to be careful about a certain box on the shelves. Can't put empty snack wrappers back in it otherwise it'll attract ants again, Hardcase says he learned that one the hard way and it took a while to get it back under control just short of throwing away his whole collection of snacks. Two of them are welcome to just about anything they find in the box if Rex takes you there, but the energy drinks are off limits.

"Or just leave Hardcase five credits if you do take one." Echo calls from a little further down the table, pouring over some section of the regulation manual related to your job that you were having trouble understanding. (They used a lot of unnecessary and complicated words because it was translated into Basic from another galactic language.) "Fives and I do it all the time." A few more brothers confirm that they do the same since being let in on Hardcase's little secret. Dogma insists he does not. "I don't like these crazy energy drinks they come up with. 'Trotting Tauntaun' and 'Hyperspace Rush'? Makes me feel sick to my stomach and my heart race…" (It's probably all the caffeine, Kix calls back to him from Rex's left. Dogma might have a low tolerance for it and that's why he doesn't like it.)

This little nook within the hangar becomes the perfect place to decompress whenever Captain Rex notices you are looking more anxious than typical. One of his men has stashed away an old GAR-issue blanket that's stained with various smears of cobalt blue - 501st's Blue - but still plenty warm and comfortable to wrap up in. You can tell that it's Fives who added a little stack of flimsi scraps to write notes on the first time you come back here to this corner of the hangar with the Captain. Rex can see from a mile away that Kix is to thank for the healthier options within the box of Hardcase's snacks.

You're both not sure who scribbled your name along with his under the list of people who were "invited" here, but it makes you cry, in a happy way. To welcome their brother here would be one thing - all Clones had come up with secret, secluded spaces for themselves to have their privacy and establish stealthy boundaries for themselves and their well-being - but they were inviting you too. None of your other colleagues know about this sequestered space. They trusted you to keep their secrets. They liked you. Really liked you.

"To our Captain and his girl" the note begins, waiting for you both on top of the neatly folded blanket when Rex first helped you here, trying to help you settle your nerves after you were badly frightened by a speederbike backfiring outside the base as it whizzed past, "Welcome to our cozy little corner! We hope you like it here and trust that you'll keep it a better secret than General Skywalker and Senator Amidala being a "thing". Speaking of, figured it was time to let the loth-cat out of the bag now that you're both getting as serious as this war allows~. - The 501st"

Don't have a fic taglist for the time being, but I'll likely start one soon if I can figure out how to make those fancy forms some people have since I write a variety of stuff. For now, though, if you'd like to join a taglist for specific types of fics (for example just TBB-centric or just TCW-centric (or both)) don't hesitate to ask. 🩷

[Part one] [Masterlist] [Reqests: OPEN]

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luckbealincoln · 10 months

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Best Kept Secret

chapter fifteen : two tea parties

THIS SERIES HAS BEEN MOVED AND RE-UPLOADED TO ANOTHER ACCOUNT. WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE. THIS POST STILL EXISTS AS AN ARCHIVE BUT THIS ACCOUNT IS NO LONGER ACTIVE!!