#ᴠ;┋ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴘɪʟᴏɢᴜᴇ [ coda ]

[n7soldiered]

SHEPARD’S !NSTAGRAM | FEAT.  sam & @sentinelmade

   //   4  /  ?

❝sam?  you named her ‘sam’?❞      ❝what?  what’s wrong with ‘sam’?❞ ❝—nothing!  nothing is wrong with sam.  it’s just... sam is a samoyed.❞      ❝yeah.  fitting, isn’t it?❞ ❝oh, shepard...❞

[stillsolo]

@techniiciian

"Dad?" Matt leaned in the room, arms full with a large wrapped box, a present for his old man. "Dad are you here?" He had to be, right? Unless he was at the Falcon, but Papa had said that he'd be here. "I have - I have something for you!" And have something he did, inside the wrapped box was a to scale miniature of the Falcon, something he'd been working on for oh so long. He could only hope that his dad would love it as much as Luke had loved the idea when Matt first thought about it.

❝oh, yeah?  an’ what’ve you got, boy?❞  han came in from around the kitchen corner, toweling a thick beige mixture off his hands as he cocked his brow and eyed his son.  couldn’t say he wasn’t curious what all this shouting was about, but kraat, he was in the middle of something...  han stopped dead in his tracks, however, grimacing once he realized the extent of the mess staining the front of his tunic.  the mixture had smeared on the fabric, and now, it was semi-dried and flaking off.  hell, he’d gotten it on his trousers, too!   ❝kest,❞  han cursed, turning away from matthew and making a hasty retreat back into the kitchen.   ❝this’s my favorite shirt!❞  never mind the fact han said that about every one of his tunics or vests —

[stillsolo]

"I used to go home every night cursing myself for not having kissed you. Kind of wish I had the courage now."

oblivious-to-love starters | @faithprevailed

Between one thought and the next, Solo held himself still, in a wide margin of florescent light that reflected off of exposed durasteel, sharp and gleaming where paint had chipped and lay bare a better part of his ship.  Much like how he was now, exposed to Luke, his long-worn independence stripped away to reveal a rusted hull beneath, with all the sharp edges he couldn’t ever bear to uncover, too frightened to behold anything that could solidify actuality.

     So afraid to HURT.

Han hesitated a moment longer—but wasn’t that what he was always good at—living in the moment?  Taking anything offered, with both his hands.  What they could have       surprise relaxed Han’s features, his gaze, flickered into jarring recognition.  If this was a dream … One end of his generous mouth curled up at the poignant notion.  Caught to freedom, to the extreme boundary of this feeling—LOVE—a limit inside him he had yet to overcome …

❝Every night—❞    Solo wavered with an abrupt, uneasy chuckle, his dark gaze and stiff grin thrown to the side.  Filled close to BURSTING with expectation, and nothing to catch his fall …  Looking at Luke through the fringe of his bangs, he swallowed almost nervously, desperate to measure the distance between them.   ❝An’ how many nights was that?❞

         One thought repeated in answer:  me, too.

[stillsolo]

@madestoried |  [ x ]

He wouldn’t stop looking at her, and Rey knew sooner or later she’d crack and spill her guts. Anyone else, and she could hold her own, even if her poker face wasn’t the best; no one could keep a secret like she could. Luke and Han – and Leia – however, they had that gift no one else did of making her want to tell them everything. Except for one thing, which she’d inadvertently told Luke anyway, and now it seemed it had bled over into her interactions with Han.

Unexpectedly, Han’s words only made her want to cry and she rapidly blinked to hold back the tears. Rey had never known unconditional love before Luke had taken her in, and sometimes she still couldn’t quite believe she’d found such a thing, let alone with multiple people. Ironically it only served to make her want to work harder and not fail them, and this felt like a sort of failing.

Fidgeting a few moments more, she glanced downward as she finally blurted it all out. “I had a sort of dream about B–someone, and Luke saw it” she said in a rush, her words spilling out in a breath. Han didn’t need to know the specifics, he could take what he needed from the broad strokes and hopefully he would let it be.

      Whatever it was that Han expected, it hadn’t been that.  In fact, it was nowhere near something as private as a ...  ❝Wait, wh-what?❞  spluttered Han, his shoulders jerking up in shock.  Had he stood two inches closer to the drink-synth, he would’ve slammed his elbow.  ❝You had a dream—an’ Luke saw it?❞

      Although skepticism fastened to his tone, Han knew better than distrust Rey.  It was the Force ( wasn’t it always? ).  More than once had Luke explained to Han the importance of a force bond, how it could influence a student’s development and maturity, as well as aid in keeping an eye on them.  To tell the truth, Han never liked the concept of a teacher-student bond.  His struggle to adjust to Luke’s  ( new and initially, startling )  presence in his head had been bad enough, but a figure of authority—a parental figure?  Over his dead body; Han refused to even imagine.  At least, Luke was his bondmate and best friend ...

      Alright, if things hadn’t lined up before, they were now.  Rey’s ‘dream’ had to have been the reason why his lover seemed distracted during their routine update, earlier this morning before Han had made planet-fall.  Although Luke had promised to discuss it later, Han doubted the man would.  When it came to their daughter, that austere restraint often yielded and reduced the Jedi to a frantic, fumbling mess.   ❝How do y’know for sure?  Didja just wake up an’ know he saw it all?❞

[stillsolo]

6.  Washing their hair [ x ]  | ��@techniiciian​ 

In no doubt was it inconvenient in the sort of way that Han found humorous, which made the whole thing even more awkward, but a helluva lot funnier.  Given, it was laughable for him and maybe not so much for Luke or Matthew, but it was still amusing.  Because really, how was Han supposed to know how easily a Corellian male his age, could pull a muscle?  Sure, Han had seen the backside of thirty a couple of years back, still smooth sailing to his forties.  It was nothing to make a fuss about, he was in his prime as Chewie had once said.

All in all, pulling a muscle was just as common as a teenager spraining their ankle, right?                  . . .  Right.

Except, when it came to standing upright, along with doing a few more essential things a man like him needed doing, Han had been quick to discover he couldn’t do much.  AT ALL.  Forget trying to bend over, simply raising his arms above his waistline was already a nightmare.  

And so, life suddenly became startlingly difficult for this man, a hot-blooded Corellian who lived and breathed independence as though he could one day embody the very concept.  

❝Ow— owww —OW!!❞  Yelping, Han tried to twist his head around, then cried again when his stiff muscles screamed in protest.  He slumped in the chair they’d hauled into the water shower, some salty discharge pricked the corners of his eyes, watering them.  Han blamed the shampoo suds sliding down his left temple.  

      Han huffed.    ❝Could ya hurry it up already?  I’m pruning.❞

[stillsolo]

The soles of Luke's boots met with the 'Falcon's flooring in a pattern of soft, metallic echoes. It was a sound that he could have eliminated with a bit of effort if stealth had been on his mind, but sneaking up on Han wasn't his intention. Instead, the blond Jedi made his way to the ship's captain at an easy pace, a warm smile playing across his face. "Hey, Han." His grin failed to completely conceal traces of both nervousness and anticipation. "Are you busy with anything at the moment?"

     Han gritted his teeth as he worked.  He’d been at it for hours by now.  Sheer stubbornness tied him to this, and sheer stubbornness was how he planned to see this through to the very end.  Even retreating to his cabin for the evening seemed like a surrender between weariness and strung-out tension, a compromise Han simply couldn’t afford.                    Ah, yes.  Corellian pride — or stupidity, as Lando, often put it —

     ❝Busy?❞  Calibrator in one hand and his hard gaze focused, Han buried the mindless impulse to vacate any and all life-forms from the premises.    This was delicate craft.

     ❝Uh … ❞    When he turned, the figure in the entryway was backlit by a muted glow from the corridor’s light, feathering the edges of a slender frame.  The smile that broke on Luke’s face came with a dazzling suddenness, trapped Han to it so completely that it took him by surprise when Luke stepped closer, into the compact light of The ‘Falcon’s cockpit.   

              ❝ … Uh.❞        Oh, how karkin’ eloquent, Solo.      // @tatooinelight

    His blank stare lasted only a moment before his jaw set around stifled self-derision.  Right back t’ makin’ a fool outta yourself.   Attention swerved back to familiar, more ordinary matters — burnt wires and blackened circuit plates, Han tried for a level tone, well aware his aim fell short by a couple of visvias.       ❝Not at all.  Need somethin’?❞