#But anyways the already fought a lot when I was a toddler

[sleepdeprivedvigilante]

I just had the thought of what if I make my Divorced (But they get along) parents fight in purpose for amusement?

Maybe it'd be funny.

Then I thought the custody battle would be a bitch. Especially for my younger sister.

So I take the thought back.

[marscardigan]

tough love

ellie williams x reader

summary: ellie hates dogs. so it's a surprise for her when you find a stray puppy and bring him to her home.

warnings: tlou canon typical violence

Ellie Williams loathed dogs. She always thought she was more of the cat type, even if she never had a pet. That was until Bowie came along. You had been dating the redhead for almost eleven months when on a patrol, Dina and you found a stray puppy, almost dead from hunger and winter. You came back to Ellie's room with cries from the puppy. And even if Ellie begged you to take that nasty wild animal from her room, you stayed anyway, with the puppy lied on your chest. "I can't believe I'm already jealous of that bastard" You laughed softly. "Why would you be?"

"He is in my spot" Your girlfriend complained. "Oh my god I can't believe you just said that"

With time, Ellie started to tolerate Bowie, once you named him after your father's favorite singer, and knowing that if you did name him, he would stick for good now. Why fight the enemy when you can join him?

It was pretty hard for her at first. Bowie started to like sleeping with you two on your bed, and he loved chewing Ellie's comics and eating her drawings. But all of that was worth it when she saw the tenderness and devotion your eyes screamed when you looked at the dog.

After months, Bowie was a trained dog who detected any kind of weapon the enemy had hidden only with his nose, and thanks to his advanced hearing, he could alert of infected before anyone else could hear it. Ellie had to admit that Bowie was much more of a help than she thought to start with. But when the pup wasn't being a detective, he was the most loyal and caring dog she ever met.

He adored Ellie, and followed her everywhere. She acted annoyed initially, but she secretly loved it. Knowing your fondness for him, she felt special to know the dog trusted her enough to follow her and protect her. She knew you were his favorite person. And even if sometimes they fought for your attention like toddlers, they had a lot in common, apart from being both obsessed with you in the most sanely way possible.

There wasn't any other thing you loved more than coming home to find your girlfriend asleep on the bed, with Bowie's figure between her arms. You smiled and changed yourself to be more comfortable, getting inside the bed and hugging Ellie's hips, kissing softly her neck.

You were layed down in your girlfriend's thighs as she was playing some song Joel showed her that same week.

"There's a Starman... waiting in the sky..." Ellie's soft voice made your whole body shiver, like it was the first time you heard her sing over and over again. "He'd like to come and meet us... but he thinks he'd blow our minds..."

The teen's song was interrupted with Bowie's howls. "Looks like he wants a duet" You giggled, standing up to caress tenderly the dog's chest.

"Funnily enough, that is his song" Ellie looked down at you two, with a smile. "I think he is demanding some copyright"

It wasn't the first mission Ellie, Joel and Bowie shared. In fact, the german shepherd and the grown man were a pretty good team.

The scenario where the three of them were at the moment wasn't atypical either. There were some men from the north, who were part of a cult similar to what David once had. They were searching for some supplies, when a firing sound broke the silence. The companion of the now dead corpse grabbed shakily his gun. Before he could shoot Joel's body, Bowie jumped and with a swift move, he disarmed the guy, grabbing the gun and delivering it to Ellie. He didn't notice the loud smack of his head cracking the wall.

The next thing the male saw when he woke up was Joel petting Bowie's head. He was chained up on a chair. "You have something we want, you know that?"

"I ain't giving you shit" He said, spitting at the bearded man. "The first thing I'm going to do when I get free is break that stupid dog's sku-" He didn't have the chance of ending his sentence, because Ellie hit him with a metal stick in his knee. "You better give him some fucking respect"

The kidnapped male didn't stick for long. He ran out Joel's lacking patience, and even if they didn't get the answers they wanted, it did feel good to end that fucker.

When they got back to the horses, Joel let out a soft laugh. "Can't believe you defended Bowie's honor like that"

"Of course" Ellie scoffed, looking fondly at the dog, who was following the two of them, moving his tail happily. "No one is insulting my child"

[crispybonkeggllama]

I wanted to do a little sketch for my Bleach Canon Divergence AU but then decided to add color TT

TimeTravel!Ichigo who, because of his injuries and reiatsu exhaustion took a form of a child (like Nell), thus remembering the future, but unable to control his emotions and acting accordingly.

He regains his mental stability later with the help of the Soul King - yeah, he time travelled THIS far - and became a member of the Zero Squad, though unannounced.

Also not-so-subtly called 'your highness' or 'prince' by Zero Squad since Soul King took him under his wing (who also not-so-subtly is being a doting parent) and him being a clingy child most of the time.

He hasn't recovered fully, hence he usually sleeps on the SK's lap or in his arms, surrounded by non-threatening reiatsu so much similar to his (which SK picked up on, already realizing that this child is trully his, needing to be coated in parent's reiatsu to recover faster)

After The First Sin, Yhwach's sealing and establishment of C46 and Gotei, Ichigo lowkey says "fuck it" and just-

Wakes the King.

Yeah.

By bombarding the crystal with huge amount of his reiatsu whenever he has the moment.

The funniest thing? He also translating his thoughts and emotions of how everything will be fucked up in about a thousand years and that the King will be killed. But the thought that finally wakes the King up is when Ichigo got too stressed and desperate.

"I need you. Your own son is SEALED and I fought him, I KILLED him, he lost it and he is your fucking son and he needs you even more than me so wake the fuck up- PLEASE I DON'T WANT TO KILL HIM AGAIN HE WAS SO LOST AND DROWN IN MADNESS AND HE LOVED YOU HE JUST WANTED HIS FATHER- PLEASE-"

And it happened quietly. Soul King gently hugging the sobbing kid, peaking a look in the futures.

Yeah... Maybe this was not the best descision he made in order to protect the worlds.

He then proceeds to find his first son which he didn't do to not be 'too bothering of a parent', breaking suspicouisly familliar spells and wards intended to not let HIM find Yhwach, and yanking him in the Palace, also coating him and the youngest in his reiatsu, contemplating his life descisions as to why in the world he listened to Ichibe to let his son wander the world 'a little'. Like, yeah, his son has enormous amounts of spiritual energy but it's expected, and even if Yhwach was absorbing a little too much from him as a toddler that only proved him having a pote-

Oh.

OH.

Wasn't he weakened enough by that to try finding his son and not being able to see even his soul ribbon before being sealed?..

*Somewhere, Ichibe felt shudder runnig down his spine*

***

So the Gotei 13 an C46 aren't aware of Ichigo's existence, he slept through a lot of things (not to mention hawking Soul King being paranoid after disappearance of his first child).

SK's physical body parts slowly deceasing (Ukitake lives yay!).

Yhwach is sane, not fatherless anymore, they talked things through, and very much a doting older brother as much as his father even if he doesn't like to admit it (the braids with flowers and colourful ribbons admit it for him)

Ichigo is having a long-lasting childhood since his soul 'matured' even before time travel and he looks younger than Toshiro for like forever (until he figures out how to grow up, waiting for Urahara to become 12th captain to ask him), cringes every time Yhwach calls him "brüderlein" (as if being called his son wasn't traumatizing enough), thinking what to do with Aizen while waiting for the tea-lover to appear.

Oh, and he's also Zero Squad member with privileges (obviously).

Seriously, i made up this whole AU just because i wanted kid!Ichigo in captain haori XD

Anyway, here're the sketches

[misfit-latte]

Since it has been so long since I read any book from the PJO universe (including HOO series and TOA), I have a hot take regarding the so long saga of people comparing who is stronger: Percy or Jason.

They are both strong, BUT even I would have to agree that Percy is way more stronger than Jason. But that doesn't mean that if they are given the chance to fight, Jason would lose quickly. I think if they fight to death, Jason would lose but that doesn't mean he won't be able to hurt Percy as much.

Basically, my hot take is that their difference in how they cultivate and practice their skills in fighting. Jason had been trained since he was a toddler. Percy is trained when he was twelve. You'd think that being the first to train, Jason would have higher chance of winning a fight with Percy but that's not the case. I think, one of the key differences with Percy and Jason is that Jason was already strong at a young age, like he surpassed a lot of strong people already which meant there was no much room for improvement while Percy, on the other hand, develop and continuosly improving on his skills. If they had fought like around when they are both 13 or 14, I think Percy would definitely lose, because Jason was already at his maximum strength whereas Percy is strong, sure, but there's a lot more room for improvement.

Also, I also think what makes Percy stronger than Jason is that Percy fights and won't let himself be killed so he can protect his loved ones whereas Jason fights and would die if that meant he could protect his loved ones. Which, coincidentally, led to Jason's death.

Anyway, I might changed my mind here after I actually reread the series. Anyway, this is just an opinion of my own.

[stackslip]

god i am sooo confused by nayuta's looks too. if she is indeed aging quick that paints such a geim picture of makima too. like, imagine if makima was in fact really young. it would make a lot of sense in the most devastating way possible

oh FUCK. i mean before all this i did already assume she aged weirdly (since nayuta was born already a child), but i also thought that she'd stopped ageing when she looked about 25 and was in fact older than she looked, and her being denied any kind of childhood and connection to other people was part of why she was so emotionally immature and acted like a toddler when backed into a corner. but with what that youre saying, im imagining her only being born like five to ten years prior to the events of part 1 and it makes me want to claw at my face. its so much worse. but it fits! the bureau has no qualms recruiting very young people like denji, and to them makima was just a tool anyway and as a devil they considered that she wasnt in need of a childhood at all. it would also fit her having fought pochita 5-6 years ago! jesus christ thats so fucking bleak.

[enervate]

Favorite thing about libraries?

oh god everything. architecturally the old buildings obv because they're so beautiful and welcoming and cosy and it brings such a sense of awe when you enter and see all the towering bookshelves and huge comfy armchairs, makes the acts of choosing and reading the books there that much more special somehow. but in general, libraries are literally one of the greatest things on the planet. it's completely free education and knowledge for one, which could be a whole other rant tbh lmao. it's free to join (where i live anyway idk about anywhere else in the world), free to check books (incl audiobooks) out and free to use the computers and internet, you only need to pay if you're ordering a book into the library that they don't already have there, printing something off, or have a late fee. they were a lifesaver for me when i was at school and didnt have a computer to do my homework on and i know a lot of other poor kids in my town use our library for the same reason too. there's always something on too, my sister takes her daughter to baby rhyme group where they learn nursery rhymes and actions/dances, get to use little instruments (maracas, bells, xylophone etc!), they've been going since before evie was even 1, she'll be 2 by the end of the month :'] there's always quite a few people there too and it's so funny seeing the toddlers interacting with each other! there used to be a poetry/writing group on in my library too til the teacher got too ill to continue, would love to find another one (although maybe with less old ppl lol they were supportive but didn't 'get' my writing because it didnt rhyme 😭). there's a jigsaw and coffee group where the libraries will swap out huge complicated jigsaws with the other libraries in the county so when one's complete the group get a totally different one! and free coffee!! there's help available for anyone struggling with computer/internet literacy so when filling out job or benefits applications, the librarians will help, people who don't speak much english can get help there too (citizen's advice also exists but you need an appointment and if you're already struggling w the language that's just an extra barrier, the librarians help because they want to)/ there's such a sense of community in libraries that fights on despite all the funding cuts and the government's attempts to shut them down esp in poor areas (we fought tooth and nail to keep my library open when they tried to shut it in 2014 and again in 2016). obv not every area has a library service as amazing as ours but i'm so so grateful they exist at all <3

[tiger-in-the-flightdeck]

*Throws a smoke grenade on the ground and rolls into place as the air clears*

(Okay, I'm prefacing this by saying this is Comic Only Canon stuff. I've watched exactly three episodes of Young Justice. Some things have also been retconned.)

Roy Harper has gone by several hero names. He started as Speedy, the sidekick and ward to Green Arrow. From there, he became Arsenal and Red Arrow.

Roy was the orphan of a parks services employee who was killed in a fire when he was a toddler. He was raised by a Navajo tribal elder called Brave Bow, who taught him archery. Roy's Navajo roots are very important to him- he prays in Diné bizaad(which was his first language), raised his daughter to have a connection with that part of their heritage, and spends time on his home reservation a lot.

When he was sixteen or seventeen, Oliver just kind of... Fucked off with Hal Jordan to see America. While he was gone, Roy couldn't really handle being on his own (I'm not gonna get into opinions on Oliver Queen here, because it's a really divided camp) for so long and started using drugs as a way to cope. He eventually started using heroin. When Ollie found out, he kicked him out. For a time, Roy was homeless. He's relapsed a few times, but has been sober for a while now.

While his friends from the Titans like Dick and Wally were going off to college, Roy started to work as an undercover agent for Checkmate, as well as a sharp shooter. During on of his missions he met Jade Nguyen, aka Cheshire. They slept together and she conceived Lian. Roy didn't know about this until Lian was already a few months old. He fought for, and won custody of her. But he makes sure to keep Jade as a part of her life, bringing her to see her in prison regularly.

Lian was killed in an attack on Star City. In the Convergence event, a time traveller 'rescued' her the morning of the attack to bring her forward in time, to manipulate Roy into killing his friends. He didn't, but saved Lian anyway. So it is canon that on New Earth at least, Roy and Lian are alive and well, picking up right where they left off. On Prime Earth, Lian wasn't killed but thrown around in time. She's now a young teenager instead of a five year old, but she's back with Roy.

After one of his relapses, Roy decided he should check into a rehab facility called Sanctuary, where he was killed. He was resurrected during a multiversal reboot.

Some Roy Trivia Tidbits:

He is Jason Todd's best friend.

The two of them ran a Heroes For Hire business with the contact number RED-ARSE

He and Jason shared (or possibly still do share) a bank account

He led one of the Teen Titans teams

Bart Allen calls him Dad sometimes

He used to be a drummer in a band called Great Frog

He's a horny slut and proud of it

He is very open and affectionate with his friends. He frequently tells them he loves them, and isn't shy about hugs

When he lived in New York with the Outsiders, his nannies for Lian were men

He will stand up to Batman about how he treats his kids

Waylon Jones (Killer Croc) is his rehab sponsor, and considers Roy the 'Only good thing he's done in his life'

He is an Omega. (*squints down at the smudged writing on my hand*) Oh! He's an Omega Lantern. He's also a Black Lantern.

Seriously, he's an Arrow and a Lantern two times over. He's Batman's worst nightmare for a son in law...

The characters he's paired with most regularly:

Jason Todd ("That's my Jaybird.")

Kori Anders ("Best. Girlfriend. Ever.")

Jason Todd and Kori Anders ("We're supposed to be together, dammit. That's the only destiny that matters to me.")

Dick Grayson ("I always thought you boys would make a swell couple. In an erotic Butch and Sundance kind of way...")

Wally West ("You're looking at me kinda weird." "It must be love.")

Donna Troy ("There you are, my handsome little Artemis.")

Grace Choi ("You've gotta stop carrying me around." "You love it.")

Someone give me a crash course in Roy Harper!! I want to add him to Hyena and Hood but I know nothing about him ;o; His name is Arsenal right? Is he Lian's father or is that the clone? The clone's name is... Will?

[phoenixyfriend]

Thoughts on “Auntie Soka and Little Leia” now that I’ve actually got it posted:

Call it a director’s cut! The process of actually writing the thing, and also jokes made along the way. Link to the actual fic.

Unfortunately, I don’t have the energy for image descriptions, even the text screenshots. Might come back that later. Most of this was DMs with @atagotiak​.

This was an entire thing before I even started writing:

Before I decided on ages and stuff Ahsoka, to Jango, who has had zero contact with Kaminoans: Okay I know I'm a Jedi kid so you hate me but this toddler is your clone from the future. Jango, tired: What the FUCK are you talking about. Rex, barely able to talk: Don't you dare leave me with him, Commander! Ahsoka: I'm not going to leave you I just--I'm so tired I'm so fucking tired I haven't slept in five days and someone tried to kidnap Leia two days ago I am so fucking tired I need help

Ben: [twenty years of depression followed by a 'now I'm safe' breakdown over the course of weeks] Sokari: [whatever the FUCK this mess is]

When Ahsoka mentions there only being three other Jedi at the time of her death,  I was thinking Kanan, Yoda, and Obi-Wan (Leia told her about the latter two living past her). She's not counting anyone that received training after the Temple fell, and she didn’t know about Cal.

When Leia says  “I was adopted and raised by one of the founders of the rebellion, a movement built on the desire to instate freedom and democracy in a galaxy that had lost even the pretense.”

Depa: I'm no therapist but I diagnose you with "incredibly fucked up." Ahsoka: yeah, that’s fair

"Why did you pick Depa for--" She's pretty and I'm gay. Also because of the Kanan thing But mostly I'm gay "It's not a visual medi--" GAY

Empty of context beyond general post-fic AU: "Hey Sokari, we need to engage in psychological warfare against this individual and--" "I'm going to break into his office and leave a threatening note on his desk and leave no other sign that I was there. He'll see that his security is nothing and the only reason he isn't dead is because I'm too nice to kill him." "...okay, not what we were planning, but that works. Why is that your first choice?" "I really like breaking and entering, it's soothing." Ben just standing there with a bland smile like This Is Normal.

"We need someone to infiltrate a highly guarded facility in hostile territory." "So we're sending the Torrent kids?" [sigh] "We're sending the Torrent kids."

Rex and Sokari insist on both going by "Torrent" even though Rex could be a Fett. Jango really wants him to be a Fett. Rex has too many grudges to agree to being a Fett for... a while.

I really hope it's blatantly obvious that Ahsoka's not a reliable narrator for some things Ahsoka: Fett could care less if I died Jango: jfc even if you are older than me I can see you're fucked up. Drink your hot chocolate. Hells. She's got good reason to expect him to hate her as a Jedi! BUT. THAT IS NOT REFLECTIVE OF REALITY

We don’t get a lot of actual characterization for Jango, but the way I played him out here is he has never really parsed that Jedi are people before all this. It's a lot harder to treat them as a monolith when the traumatized former child soldier is having regular breakdowns in your shitty little kitchen

Fett: I respect you Ahsoka: No, don't do that

Ahsoka’s vigilantism is something that, in my mind, she's associating heavily with Zygerria and then the clones.

I figured that she never bothered to learn Quinlan’s teacher’s name but in the process of looking up some basic facts (whether he had a surname), I found that Wookiepedia was forced to give us a VERY wide range of possible death in Legends.

Please take a moment to imagine Quinlan's FACE when Ahsoka initially dismisses him. Quinlan has put a lot of effort into being rogueishly charming! It's very useful for his line of work! He knows to expect either irritation or a return flirtation when he acts like this with people his own age! Ahsoka is not flustered OR rolling her eyes and insulting him, she's just ignoring him and it's a bit of a blow to the ego

This just makes me really happy:

This was the initial comment I made, as a joke What if Maul is just. There. On one of the planets they make a pitstop at. What if Maul exists as the walking problem he is, but fifteen, and Ahsoka immediately tries to kick his ass and drag him back to Coruscant. I do not have room for this plot but What If

Despite not having room for this plot, I proceeded to write this plot.

Maul is kidnapped and it’s the best thing that ever happened to him HE'S FIFTEEN HE'S DUMB AS SHIT AND HAS A BAD ATTITUDE AND YEAH HE'S A DARKSIDER BUT HE'S FIFTEEN

Ahsoka: I sense... Maul [takes off sprinting] Rex: [immediately takes Jango's blaster and runs after her] Jango: Wait who Tholme: Who Quinlan: Who Jango: [looks at Leia] Leia: I don't know who that is either! Ahsoka, already wrestling a teenager to the ground: Oh no, you're a child, REX STUN HIM AND GRAB THE CUFFS, I'M SURE FETT OR THOLME HAS SOME

Fighting him isn't even legal, they have NO evidence of criminal wrongdoing, so first she needs to yell until he admits to something she can fight him about

Ahsoka: When I see Maul, it's on SIGHT Maul: WHO ARE YOU

Ahsoka: The Force didn't give me hands just to NOT throw them when I run into That Crafty Son Of A Bitch

Ben, when they arrive, after the tearful reunion: You... you brought Maul. Ahsoka: Well, yeah, he's fifteen and kinda dumb. I figured we could drag him here and force him into therapy, see what happens. Ben: I can't quite tell through the gag, but I think he's threatening to feed you your own spleen. Ahsoka: Lol, yeah.

Ben is absolutely on team "get Maul therapy" and will fight the Council on rehabilitating the baby Sith But also it's like. Here's your daughter! And your niece! And your daughter's QPP! Also your best friend, but baby, and his teacher, and the biological origin of a number of people you cared for deeply! AND ALSO THE GUY WHO SPENT LITERAL DECADES CRAVING YOUR DEATH, FOR SOME REASON

I just really want Ahsoka lovingly bullying Maul She gives him noogies and the horns don't protect him because girl has reinforced gloves

Maul's only allowed a low-power training saber and his fights with Sokari involve Much Taunting by her and Eventual Screaming by him, and everyone pops by to see: 1. Sokari doing the most absurd flips, for fun. 2. The bullshit that is ataru-shien reverse-grip jar'kai in the hands of someone who makes it work 3. What a Sith lightsaber form looks like 4. Just the general nonsense that is the way these two fight

Tia said “Wrt ridiculous flips. I'm remembering that time she beheaded four Kryst'ad at once.” and I just Rex brings up the quadruple beheading at one point to get someone to stop asking questions and the awkward, horrified silence almost makes him regret it. And then Sokari just snorts and makes a joke about how Rex once speared a slaver point-blank and everyone's just like hello??? "are you two okay" "no"

Maul absolutely starts crushing on Sokari after a 'sword under chin' moment and she's just very "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh you're fifteen, bye" GO MAKE PUPPY EYES AT OBI-WAN OR SOMETHING

The crushes are the worst part of everything, really, she's an attractive young woman that can kick a lot of ass, and a lot of people are into that! Unfortunately, most of those people are a decade younger than she is, mentally, because all the people her actual age look at her and see a child on account of the 17yo body.

It’s almost a good thing she’s in no place mentally for a relationship.

I just want Ahsoka to wear beskar.... I think that would be Nice........

This AU is also what caused this post.

I'm deeply enamored by the idea that Ahsoka can win fights against "older" padawans pretty much unilaterally, even when they team up 2v1 And then she offers to fight 5v1 "But only if I have permission to fight dirty." Ben approves it, a horror show full of "I fought many wars and will scream in your face or kick you in the balls if that's what it takes" follows She wins. There are no permanent injuries, but her reputation certainly gets weirder. Nobody under the rank of Knight agrees to let her fight dirty again. She just lets that stand because, well, she's not actually a padawan, she's thirty-three.

I’m not going to write this but my brain was EVIL and suggested it:

IT WOULD BE REALLY SAD IDK maybe 9yo Anakin has nightmares about what's happening to baby Ahsoka because bullshit about time-traveling force bonds IDK ANYWAY he cries to Sokari about the nightmares and she's like "oh shit" and it's time to go rescue herself from motherfucker unlimited

It's either that or she's like, expecting to welcome mini-me aaaany day now, for like, several months, before she realizes Something Went Wrong. Anakin’s dreams could even start right as she’s starting to realize something’s off.

Obi-Wan has never had a padawan that doesn't at some point bite Even Luke will, when pushed

OH also once the twins get Baby's First Lightsaber (training sabers, not real kyber), Sokari begs to borrow them for a dumb joke and tells Rex to get on her shoulders for a "Grievous Greeting" and they do The Thing

Jango and Ahsoka wrt Quinlan is just “Do I need to beat him up for you” “You realize I’ve beaten up sith lords before?”

JANGO'S TRYING He's just. "Can we be friends? Can I--can I be the guy that just noticeably gets in the way of a creep on the subway so you can be more comfortable without someone making a scene? I'm fucking trying here, give me a hint."

We didn’t actually figure out Jango’s age until this point. The only reason Fett's age matters is for Quinlan making a Wild Oats quip after Jango says he didn't know about Rex until a few weeks ago, and Fett going "How old do you think I am? And how old do you think the kid is?" and Quinlan getting Very Awkward as he does the math. Rex overhears and lets Quinlan sweat for a bit before saying "I'm a genetically-modified clone someone grew in a tube, he didn't know or have reason to know until he saw me with Sokari." Which is like. Eight additional layers of WTF, obviously, but at least Jango gets to avoid awkward wild oats jokes

Like, you’d expect the rebuttal to be ‘he’s my brother just with a biiig age gap’ or ‘he’s my nephew’

I find it very unfortunate for Quinlan that I've decided his defining characteristic in this context is going to be repeatedly putting his foot in his mouth

He’s trying so hard but "That sounds like a cool thing, maybe I'll ask ab--and it's another fucking trauma."

I'm doing Ahsoka&Jango t w i c e (there’s another fic where I’m doing it)

It’s just a fun dynamic! So much resentful respect.

Like she's twenty seconds away from calling him a bitch at any given time and he's just there like "I don't like you but I do see you move like you're about to tell an entire building to get on their knees with their hands in the air and I can respect that" Also she's probably much less judgmental about using blasters than Obi-Wan is The Maul subplot actually started with me daydreaming about Ahsoka grabbing a blaster for Reasons

I like the idea of Jango just deciding the most Useful thing he can do is help teach the Smol how to fight. He's AWKWARD around Rex and Soka because he doesn't know if there's anything he CAN teach them.

I didn’t actually plan for Tholme to figure out the age thing, he just SAID it and I had to sit there like Wait.

Ahsoka, Rex & Leia: ahhh, children Tholme: you say that like you aren’t children

I liked getting to write Rex's little "I have worked with all of them, and they're all Terrible" He loves them But They once got stranded on a planet that didn’t exist and Ahsoka died and Anakin killed a god.

There was research and discussion as to whether Ahsoka could win against Tholme but seeing as she held her own against Vader, and fought Grievous at that physical age without dying, etc.... yeah, the only thing holding her back was her body not being what she was used to, and she’s had a few weeks go adjust.

“I miss being able to just jump off skyscrapers” is such a jedi thing

Jango: I'll take the gun back if he tries to leave, they can't get far before--WHAT THE FUCK He knows Jedi are scary but he’s still not really used to just how over the top ridiculous they are He knows how to deal with Jedi in battle, not Whatever The Fuck These People Are Doing

Rex isn't even a Jedi, he's just so used to working with them. “Oh yes time for free-falling without a parachute again, same shit as always.”

Tia: I’m imagining Jango freaking out and Quinlan and Tholme being like. Concerned but mostly exasperated Clearly if they’re jumping off buildings it must be serious? But jfc they could’ve maybe communicated a bit more?

Leia: I want to finish my juice Tholme: Quin, stay with her while we go figure out what those two are doing. Quinlan: Wait what

Jango: Oh now he’s jumping off a building too??? Tholme: Sokari, you are not registered! You can't legally jump out windows yet! Jango: What the hell is going on? Is this normal?

We don’t necessarily know how often Ahsoka and Maul ran into each other after Mandalore. There was the later thing on Malachor, but other than that I'm just going with the idea that they ran into each other every year or two and just went for the eyes like feral cats

Ahsoka: I need to kick ass and you're coming with me. Rex: Yeah, okay. [several minutes later] Rex: Whose ass are we kicking?

Ahsoka and Rex

Neloms aren’t a SW fruit to the best of my knowledge, I just wanted to mess around with lemons/melons

Jango: you didn’t think any of this through, did you? Rex: you were there, you know we didn’t "When the Jedi says to jump out a window, I jump out a window."

Tholme’s real composed about stalking the ancient nigh-mythical enemy of his people, very “Life is already so goddamn weird”

This fic has been so heavy on the trauma but then I introduce Maul and suddenly it's the worst kind of comedy Nobody is competent, everyone's a little dumb, the bad guy is just grocery shopping

My propensity for banter has turned this into a six-person buddy cop comedy about Maul buying grapes They spend a significant amount to time ineffectually stalking Maul before Quin suggests the sensible option Quinlan just "You remember this is my literal job and specialty right"

Ahsoka sees Maul and all her brain cells go out the window except "Fight good" Usually she doesn’t need to worry about doing things legally. Maybe she needs to worry about someone seeing her do illegal things but she spent the past 15 yrs in a place where her existing was illegal

I feel like he’s also maybe kinda wanting to reassert that yes he is competent. Bc like. Ahsoka’s been kinda condescending this whole time and also can beat everyone up so. It's not his fault that he's actually the youngest person there, but.

Jango is finding this whole being friendly to Jedi thing a lot more overwhelming than he thought it would be. And overwhelming in different ways.

Maul usually signifies things getting worse and more horrifyingly tragic but he's just a dumb teen that they needed to arrest for his own good.

Quinlan: Look, I'm useful! Ahsoka: I've been through hell, wanna hear? Quinlan: NO. I DON'T. WHY.

Quinlan: I understand the concept of joking about your traumas, I do it sometimes myself! But sith hells that’s a lot of trauma.

Quinlan just wanted her to treat him as a Competent Individual, and here she is whipping out stories about Dying and Gods and the Force insists it's the truth and he just???? And apparently emo darksider over there is a Sith. And just, sure. Why not

A lot of people’s interactions with the time travelling disaster lineage is just

Tholme and Fett arguing and  Ahsoka's just waiting for a moment to pop in with "Hey, when's the last time either of you worked with the other's culture before this mess? Yeah, that's what I thought."

Much like Leia and Ahsoka hurting each other earlier, and Tholme figuring out the de-aging, we ALSO have Fett’s confrontation with Ahsoka being something the characters just did, rather than something I planned.

FTR the only time I managed to trigger myself while writing this fic was the “your behavior isn’t actually acceptable and we’ve all been trying really hard to give you room to recover but you have to at least make an effort to not be a bitch”

Writing about people having PTSD and symptoms of such: Yay! Writing about people having PTSD and engaging in toxic behavior to cope: Shit Ahsoka had... basically my exact reaction. It's "remind yourself that you're in the wrong, that they have a point, and then be overly formal in the apology because fuck if you accidentally make them feel sorry for you when they're the injured party"

Quinlan: Can we be friends? I mean, you're an asshole, but you're really cool. Let's be friends. (He MIGHT be nursing a crush) (Neat mysterious girl who can beat him up.)

Also he realises she's probably nicer when not having a slow-motion breakdown He's like "Huh, you'll probably be less of an asshole once you've gotten therapy."

...also, she pretty and got Nice Biceps

I love writing a good mental breakdown

I was so close to including a "he tried to kill me" just early enough for Jango to wildly misinterpret as her thinking Quinlan tried to kill her. He'd have been very confused, considering Quinlan's the one that called them down in a panic and currently has Ahsoka having her massive breakdown in his lap But

Tia:  I could see Jango interpreting it as idk, Quin resembling someone or for a moment acting like someone who tried to kill her and she had a flashback or something like that

There's absolutely room for a couple reasonable interpretations there And "trapped in a flashback about someone who tried to kill her" is absolutely what's happening! Just. You know. For a different reason. Jango probably wouldn’t assume Quin would hurt her, for one thing he seems to like her, for another even if he did he’s smart enough to pick a way that wouldn’t be so likely to get him caught

I had to step back and actually say “Also I'm just. Wow. I'm really just shoveling QPP Rex&Ahsoka at full speed”

Me, a few weeks ago, joking: Two halves of the same idiot black ops specialist Me, now, entirely seriously: Two halves of the same idiot black ops specialist

Me, belatedly: Oh, Ahsoka being joyfully mean to people was a form of mania she was unconsciously using to build a barrier between herself and her impending meltdown

She went from "just died" to "in charge of Rex and Leia" in like. Two minutes.

Confession: I've been delighting in the mental image of this whole Mess leading Jango to try to retake Mandalore, and Ahsoka loans him a saber for a 1v1 to get the darksaber.

“Can’t I just fight him barehanded? That’s how I did it on Galidraan.” "But the drama, Fett!"

Probably Rex has learned how to use a saber as well, because you never know when you have to borrow a weapon

I later changed my mind to Jango asking her to help, rather than her just sneak-teaching him, but it was funny.

Background nonsense to all this is Ahsoka and Rex, despite Rex being as force-sensitive as a lump of coal, having developed a process where she can extend her sensitivity to him mind-to-mind for weird symbiotic battle trance that scares everyone around them. It’s very similar to Battle meditation.

CONTEXT FOR LEIA BEING WORRIED ABOUT THOLME HIDING THINGS: Tholme is hiding the fact that the Council reached out and told him that the people he picked up might be connected to Ben and Luke, who showed up after the Depa thing but a solid week and change before Jango's ship makes it to the Temple. They asked that he not share that information to avoid getting anyone's hopes up in case the two situations aren't related. Ben and Luke haven't shared enough information for anyone to really be sure if the other three are connected Because the info Tholme has isn't quite the info Jango has, etc. And they can't just say Ben is a future Obi-Wan over comms

I just have a lot of feelings about people trying to do something right and just. Nobody's at fault! Not really! It's just complicated!

Tia: I like how when Ahsoka isn’t doing maladaptive trauma response stuff she’s very mature. And of course she’s had to be but it’s a good like, contrast. Where when she slows down to think about things she’s very sensible

Jango just spends most of this story lowkey wanting Ahsoka to Be His Friend but there's too much baggage that he's only metaphysically responsible for

Local aroace(?) has a squish

Ahsoka: He just wants to get on my good side because of Rex. Jango: I'm pretty sure you could kill an entire army without trying but you wouldn't because you have actual morals and stuff... and when I met you it was because you were killing yourself trying to keep (what appeared to be) children safe... you seem cool please be my friend.......

Ahsoka’s #1 weakness: mountains of trauma Ahsoka’s #2 weakness: she just doesn’t get why so many people think she’s cool and want her to be their (girl)friend

Jango, a 27yo massacre survivor who's killed Jedi masters with his bare hands: [gets lectured on various government structures by a tiny girl that's missing several teeth and needs to sit on books to see the table properly]

Ahsoka was raised in a religious meritocracy but developed all her opinions during a galactic war and then became a vigilante spy, Rex comes from a military cult, Leia is from an inherited monarchy that participates in democracy, Quinlan was originally from what appears to be a dynastic dictatorship, and IDK about Tholme other than that he is also from the religious meritocracy. And in legends Quinlan came to the religious meritocracy after his aunt sacrificed his parents to a vampire cult and then forced him to experience the psychometric echoes of that. There's just. A lot going on.

Leia at least has knowledge about structure and admin in theory that isn't based in either the military or populations under 10k

Jango: I want to be your friend. Ahsoka: Sounds fake.

I am unfairly fond of "Rex destroys a conversation by bringing up his own horrifying childhood and calling it a cult"

"Why does Sokari call you 'Rex'ika'?" "Because she's older than me." "...can I--?" "No."

Nickname privileges are extended ONLY to Ahsoka and older clones. There are no more older clones, so it's just Ahsoka.

Me joking about Star Wars AUs: Would you like a crackship? Me writing actual Star Wars fic: My favorite character type is apparently “too traumatized to have a relationship” so this is at least 90% gen.

I had to pull a scene opening at one point because Ahsoka's skill with not getting shot is actually much less useful than Tholme's clearance levels.

Now I really want a team-up of Ahsoka, Rex, and Jango where they do have to get in a dogfight of the "she flies, we shoot" variety and Fett just has to scream because the speeder thing to catch Maul was one thing, but this....

Ahsoka, before TCW: I know all the traffic rules but I'm not that great at flying! Ahsoka, after TCW: I'm great at flying but if you let me behind the wheel we are absolutely getting arrested.

She went from "knows the rules but doesn't have the skills" to "has the skills but primarily in the form of not getting shot" which! Is delightful! "Bet I can get us through that alley--" "DO NOT"

Jango and Ahsoka are both just very "Is this friendship? Is this camaraderie? My heart's been fried on platonic love by so many murders that I'm not sure anymore." "I've lost a lot of friends. I kind of forgot how to make those."

I have no idea if "hasn't been closer than Alderaan except that one trip to Chandrila" is canon-compliant but ehhhhhhhh It feels plausible enough?

Belatedly realized that I could just explain my optimal Rex&Ahsoka dynamic as just... drift compatible. It's vague enough on the specifics while still digging into the meat of what they mean to each other and how they work together. The terminology is already in existence. I can just use it.

Romantic? Platonic? Familial? Doesn't matter! They're drift compatible.

They are important to each other and that is what matters

I really like the Leia&Quinlan thing. He's just like "This small child needs a friend that isn't super depressed," and decided he's going to be her friend. I keep trying to toss in "Quinlan volunteers to 'baby'sit." She's not much older and she has a Baby Brain, it works out

There's a running bet as to whether Leia will leave the Order the second she turns thirteen, or if she'll let Sokari "train" her for a few years first. And... that’s how I came up with Leia Antilles, Senator of Serenno.

They'll be bullshitting Ben as her new master to "finish out the padawanship" since they can't tell everyone she's really in her thirties and he's conveniently there and already knows everything and was half her master anyway. Like Ben was planning on taking on Luke, but Luke is "six" and even he can't swing that as old enough to be a Padawan, and it's not like Sokari will take more than a handful of years to justify knighthood, sooooooooo

[robininthelabyrinth]

LXC is the legal guardian and adopter for LSZ or LJY, and NMJ has questions.

part 2 of the LJY-adopted-by-LQR fic (now also on ao3)

-

“So, did I knock you up before I went to war or something?” Nie Mingjue asked. “Because I feel like you should’ve mentioned it if that was the case. Possibly in a letter.”

Lan Xichen was so tired that it took him a solid minute to parse what was wrong with that sentence and how to respond, and it was not by following his first instinct to apologize that he should’ve written better letters.

“Stop making fun of me,” he said instead, groping towards some measure of dignity.

Sadly, dignity was in very short supply when you were taking care of babies. Multiple babies. Well, one baby and one toddler, which was somehow worse?

Lan Xichen was pretty sure they’d figured out how to time their crying off each other.

“I would never,” Nie Mingjue said, like a liar, and then he picked up little Jingyi and – Lan Xichen simply cannot find another way to put it – shook him, in a manner not unlike testing a melon for freshness.

For some reason, this made Lan Jingyi stop crying and start making snuffling little giggles instead.

“How did you do that?” Lan Xichen asked, eyes wide.

“Do what?” Nie Mingjue tucked the baby into the crook of his arm and scooped up some food off the table, offering it to him, and Lan Jingy actually ate it. “Xichen, are you feeling all right?”

“Shhh!” Lan Xichen hissed, eyes fixed on the baby, which was neither spitting up everything nor wailing as if his heart was broken. “No unnecessary noise during meals.”

Nie Mingjue snorted in amusement. “Sure,” he said amiably, in the tone Lan Xichen had long ago learned meant ‘nice rules you’ve got there, it’d be an awful shame if someone found a loophole in them’. “This isn’t a meal, though; it’s just a snack.”

Lan Xichen eyed the still-not-crying Lan Jingyi and decided that now was not the time for a spirited debate on the virtues of discipline and fulfilling the merits rather than the word of a rule.

“Where’s monster number one gone?” Nie Mingjue asked abruptly. “He must be very good at hiding, because I looked away for a blink of an eye and he was gone.”

Lan Xichen’s eyes slowly dropped down to where a cloth-covered lump was not-so-sneakily edging towards Nie Mingjue’s foot.

Nie Mingjue was one of the foremost front line fighters of their generation, and possibly the previous one as well. His physical ability was matched only by his incredibly keen senses.

There was no way he was not aware of the lump.

“It’s a real shame, too,” Nie Mingjue continued. “I was planning on doing a test of how far you can throw children, but I think monster two here’s a bit too small to make the test worthwhile. But I guess it just wasn’t meant to be –”

You can’t throw children, Lan Xichen was about to say, except Lan Sizhui was tearing off the tablecloth and jumping up in excitement, shouting, “Here! Here! I’m here! I’m big enough! You can throw me!”

“Why does he want to be thrown,” Lan Xichen murmured, bewildered. He’d never wanted to be thrown around as a child. Had he?

In fairness, he wasn’t sure. No one had ever offered.

Apparently, though, Lan Sizhui did very much want to be thrown around, and Lan Jingyi even condescended to allow Lan Xichen to hold him while he watched.

“Higher! Higher!” Lan Sizhui shouted.

“Really? Is this high enough?” Nie Mingjue held him up at eye level.

“Higher!”

“Like this?” Above his head.

“Higher!”

“You sure?”

“Yes!”

“All right. How about –” Baxia slithered out from her place by the door, zipping over until she was right in front of Nie Mingjue, allowing him to step onto her like a stair, and then zipping upwards to about hip-height, lifting Nie Mingjue and Lan Sizhui with her. They very nearly hit a tree branch with their heads. “– this?”

Lan Sizhui shrieked with laughter.  

“It’s too early to introduce them to flying,” Lan Xichen objected, because it was. “Mingjue-xiong…”

Nie Mingjue hopped down with a laugh. “All right, one last toss,” he told Lan Sizhui. “Then you nap. Okay?”

“Okay!” Lan Sizhui, who had never once willingly succumbed to naptime in the entirety of the time that Lan Xichen had known him, promised earnestly.

Back into the pile of soft grass he went, giggling the entire time, and amazingly enough he really did fall asleep afterwards. Lan Jingyi, too, had fallen asleep at some point.

“I’ve decided that your brother needs more experience running a sect,” Lan Xichen told Nie Mingjue, who raised his eyebrows. “Starting immediately. I promise to allow you to leave when Jingyi is, oh, shall we say five years old..?”

You could reason with a five year old. 

Nie Mingjue laughed.

It was a type of laugh that suggested that he thought Lan Xichen was making a joke. This was incorrect.

“You’d be amazed at how serious I am,” Lan Xichen told him threateningly, “I’m sect leader here, this is my territory, I can have you arrested any time –” but by that point Nie Mingjue was already bundling him off to bed, too, combing out his hair and plying him with snacks and –

This was not helping his argument that Lan Xichen should be allowing him to leave rather than keep him trapped in the Cloud Recesses as a babysitter-slash-love-slave. 

Well, he wouldn’t really do that, of course. He’d let him go. Eventually.

It’d probably be good for Nie Mingjue’s stress levels, honestly.

“Seriously, though, how did you do that?” he asked, his head on Nie Mingjue’s lap. “They didn’t cry once.”

“I’m good with kids,” Nie Mingjue said, his fingers digging into Lan Xichen’s scalp in just the right way. “Now can you explain to me how exactly you ended up with them? Two, no less?”

Lan Xichen groaned and covered his eyes with a hand. “Sizhui’s Wangji’s,” he explained. “Not biologically, but he’s put his name down in the family register under his own. But, you know…”

“I know.”

Lan Xichen appreciated that he didn’t need to go into it. The doctors had estimated that Lan Wangji would regain full mobility within three years, so that was the period the elders had mandated for his so-called ‘seclusion’, but with Lan Wangji being locked away like that – even with visitors, even though he was trying his hardest to care for the child from where he was – meant that someone had to care for the child’s day-to-day life until his brother was ready to resume the role.

“Jingyi is a cousin, I think,” he continued. “His parents are dead, and uncle accepted guardianship for him…I think he’s going to adopt him, actually.”

“Then why is he with you?”

“I volunteered.”

“Xichen, I say this with a full heart of affection and tremendous respect for your capabilities,” Nie Mingjue said. “But why in the world would you go and do a stupid thing like that?”

Lan Xichen sighed. The worst part was, he couldn’t even argue that it wasn’t stupid – he was, quite obviously, terrible with children.

“Uncle’s still injured from the war,” he admitted. In fact, his injury was probably even older than the war, dating as far back as the burning of the Cloud Recesses – his uncle had never been much of a fighter, his impressive cultivation strength stemming almost entirely from gentler arts like music and learning and meditation, but when his home and his family and his students were at risk, he’d fought, while Lan Xichen ran. Not just fought; he’d kept fighting long past the point that his body allowed. It only made sense for the bill to need to be paid. “He had a recurrence of an old complaint, not long ago; he started coughing up blood. The doctors insisted that he try to avoid anything that might cause him  stress.”

“Stress. Like, say, a rowdy infant?”

“Exactly like a rowdy infant,” Lan Xichen agreed, glad that Nie Mingjue did not mention that what had happened with Lan Wangji was also likely a source of stress. At least the two of them had slowly started to repair their relationship recently – the heartbreak would kill their uncle sooner than anything else, and Lan Xichen might be weak, but he really couldn’t tolerate the idea of suffering any more loss.

And also, if Lan Wangji could see his way to forgiving their uncle, he might one day agree to forgive Lan Xichen, too.

“I see. So you ended up with the little one, too.”

“Yes. And they hate me.” Nie Mingjue coughed a little. “No, don’t deny it. They clearly hate me. They always cry and spit and yell -”

“They’re children, Xichen,” Nie Mingjue said. “Traumatized children. They do that.”

Lan Xichen didn’t need to open his eyes to know that Nie Mingjue was frowning in memory of pain long past. Lan Xichen remembered, with painful clarity, how young Nie Huaisang had been when Lao Nie had died, how badly he had taken it.

There’d been a lot of crying and vomiting and yelling there as well.

“You’re good with kids,” Lan Xichen said instead of commenting, trading delicacy for delicacy; he would not touch Nie Mingjue’s still-bleeding wounds just as Nie Mingjue avoided his own. “Very good.”

“Well, I like to think so, anyway.”

They remained in blissful, comfortable silence for a while.

“How would it have even worked?” Lan Xichen finally asked. His eyes were still closed, Nie Mingjue’s fingers running through his hair; he never wanted to move again.

“Hmm?”

“If you knocked me up before you went to war. I mean, they’re not even the same age.”

“Well, one of them’s from the affair, obviously.”

“I’m sorry, am I cheating on you now?” Lan Xichen opened an eye and pinned Nie Mingjue with a fierce look that instructed his lover to reconsider.

“Of course not,” Nie Mingjue said, mock-solemnly. His eyes were dancing. “You were so distraught after receiving incorrect news of my untimely demise that you conducted a ghost marriage with my spirit, and then went and had a child to continue my name.”

“…they’re both surnamed Lan.”

“So what? Are you saying I’m not good enough to marry into your sect, is that it?”

Lan Xichen’s cheeks were hurting from trying not to laugh. “I wouldn’t dream of implying such a thing.”

“There you go, then.”

“Can I ask why I felt the need to have a child to continue your name if I had one already?”

“…well, fuck,” Nie Mingjue said. “I’ve got nothing.”

Lan Xichen burst out laughing.

[stovetuna]

How much does Steve melt, the first time he sees how good Tony is with kids?

anon I am so busy with work but there are so many good li’l prompts in my inbox OH NO WHATEVER SHALL I DO anyways—

obvs there’s the scenario in which steve and tony are already together/in a deeply committed relationship (see also: MARRIED) and are discussing kids and whether or not they want to adopt or use a surrogate or if they should even do it given who they are and what their lives are like (and ofc Tony would have at least one “oh god what if I’m a horrible father like Howard was??” meltdown for some extra ~drama~)

but it’s me, and you know I *live* for pining!Steve, so imagine: Steve (who has been nursing a crush on Tony for ages but doesn’t want to ruin their friendship/doesn’t think he’s good enough/doesn’t think Tony wants him that way/take your pick of Steve angst) volunteers to join Tony at a very Tony-specific event, say, an MIT job fair. lots of smart kids doing smart things way above even Steve’s pay grade all clamoring to work for Stark Industries or intern for the Avengers tech squad or NASA, etc. (Steve would also like to talk to the folks at NASA because let’s not forget our man is an absolute nerd in his own right and would like to volunteer for their next, extra-dangerous space mission...)

Steve basically acts as body-man-slash-Tony’s-time-manager the whole time, because he knows Tony is liable to get tunnel vision if someone comes to him with a particularly good idea. The MIT kids are more interested in the science of Steve than Steve himself, so once he makes it clear that Tony’s the one to talk to about anything super-serum related, they all pretty much leave him alone. 

which is fine, because that leaves Steve with extra time to just observe Tony in one of his many elements: talking “cool science stuff” with the next generation of the world’s brightest minds, hands waving around, suit jacket and tie discarded, his hair a mess after running his excited fingers through it one too many times—happy. He gets to watch Tony be happy and excited and genuinely engaged with people who understand him, which makes Steve pine that much harder because Tony can never be that around Steve, of course!! Steve’s not smart or quick enough to even come close :((( 

(steve, darling, your low sense of self-worth is showing.)

AND THEN! an older student—I like to imagine a mom who fought tooth and nail to get back into school after having to leave for a number of years to deal with Life Stuff and eventually managed to nab a spot in one of MIT’s grad programs beyond all hope, all on her own—approaches the Stark Industries table with a very fussy, very noisy, very literal baby strapped to her chest. 

Steve turns around to tell Tony his 3 o’ clock is here, but oh look, Tony is already there, telling Steve as he passes “oh my god Steve look it’s a baby!” and then stumbling around the table in his excitement, eyes big and round and shining. he the woman’s resume before she can even try to hand it to him (Steve usually is fast enough to intercede) and folds it up and places it in his wallet before he’s asking her—Shantelle, her name is Shantelle—if he can hold the baby while they talk. 

so Steve’s helplessly watching as Shantelle unhooks the contraption while Tony holds the baby—Faith, who’s maybe six or seven months old and already has her mother’s eyes—under her arms and then moves her around to cradle her against his chest. Steve watches the two adults move around to the other side of the table out of the throes of traffic to talk, and they do, intensely and excitedly and animatedly, but all the while Tony holds baby Faith in his arms, running a knuckle down the middle of her back and humming under his breath whenever he stops talking. he looks—he looks blissed out, Steve thinks, and Faith is passed out completely, drooling on Tony’s very expensive shirt and gripping his designer sunglasses hanging from his collar in one sticky, chubby fist.

by the end of their half hour meeting, Shantelle has a job at SI and Faith has an ample education fund (K-12 AND college) waiting for her, personal courtesy of Tony Stark. and Steve literally just stares at them the whole time, at the drooling, sleeping baby on Tony’s chest, at the shine in the man’s eyes when he passes her back to her mother, at the smiling way Tony tells Shantelle not to worry about the drool or the crushed glasses, at the wave he sends her off with. 

Steve is ready to propose on the spot. he doesn’t, but he imagines it, because he would literally put down his life, his shield, if it meant giving Tony a life in which they could have a family and he’d get to see Tony’s face light up like that every day. it’s such a perfect, beautiful fantasy Steve almost tears up on the spot. 

all he manages, after the fair is over and Steve’s talked to the NASA folks and their arms are full of resumes, is “I didn’t know you liked kids so much.” it comes out kinda gruff because he’s still lowkey on the verge of tears just imagining carrying around a baby while Tony makes cooing noises at her or letting her sleep on his chest after he’s passed out on the workshop couch. 

meanwhile Tony’s off and babbling about how babies and young kids are purely innocent with zero ulterior motives or cynicism and they just make him look forward to the future that much more because “babies are the purest expression of hope I can imagine” and Steve’s heart CLENCHES, but he says nothing.

later on, he draws Tony like that: fast asleep on the ratty workshop sofa, a baby passed out on his chest, his arm around her to keep her from rolling off, instinctual protectiveness amplified by his being Tony Stark, who would rather die than see someone he loves get hurt. 

as Steve shuts the notebook and turns out the light, he imagines the baby opening bright eyes the same color blue as Steve’s and grinning toothlessly when she sees him standing in the workshop doorway. he falls asleep thinking about that. he spends every day of the next week thinking about that. every time he looks at Tony, his subconscious adds a baby, and that shining look in Tony’s eyes. and he wants it. all of it.

finally, after a tough mission and an even tougher de-brief, in the middle of Tony ranting—halfway out of his seat—at Steve about him holding the reins too tight and not letting the team improvise enough, Steve just stares straight into Tony’s eyes and says, “I’ll make it up to you if you let me take you to dinner tonight.” 

he doesn’t know where it came from, but it’s worth it given how Tony all but swallows his tongue and just dumbly nods, still halfway out of his seat, hand hanging in the air mid-jabbing finger motion. 

that evening, Steve takes him to a Burger King that still has a play area kids can use and delights in watching Tony try to focus on his date with Steve and the gaggle of toddlers in the ball pit on the other side of the glass. it’s the best first date Steve’s ever had (and his last first date, period. naturally). 

[mello-jello]

Hi Jello! Got a prompt for you (feel free to do a drabble/one-shot or a fanart for this): Levi and Hange playing tabletop games but Hange's too competitive so Levi lets them win once in a while even though he knows every strategy (hint, hint: would be nice if you could base this off on how you and your husband interact!) Enjoy!

Thank you for the prompt R.K! So... Here's some projection...

Hange crossed their arms and slumped backwards into the kitchen chair, pouting.

They lost again.

Levi sat across the table and calmly started collecting cards and pieces. "Good game," he says.

"Was it?" Hange asked, a little too bitterly.

Levi barely reacted to Hange's tone and replied, "Of course; I like playing with you."

Hange's eyebrow twitched as they fought the urge to flip the table. They were being childish and they knew it. It was just a game and they were just spending time with Levi, but something about the way he always won was infuriating.

He never took long to take his turns. It was like he never struggled with finding the right strategies or like Hange’s turns weren't challenging for him at all. They would try so hard to have good turns, really racking their brain as to how they could most benefit themselves while also being a hindrance to Levi.

The scores were almost never even close and no matter how much effort Hange put into a game, Levi expected everything Hange could think of and had a counter-move ready for it. After spending up to 15 minutes taking their turn, the most they ever got was a, "good move," and then Levi would effortlessly take the lead again.

It was maddening. He wasn't even trying!

"Do you want to play again?" Levi asks before closing the box.

Hange scoffed and stared at raindrops on the window. They were conflicted and somewhat embarrassed that they felt this way.

"Well? Or we can try a different game?"

Hange sighed, putting their thumb and index finger on the bridge of their nose, not giving a real answer. They both did and did not want to play again. On one hand, Levi was their most favourite person in the whole world and they wanted to participate in his hobbies. On the other hand, Hange knew their salty attitude was taking over. It would be really nice to win once in a while. Or even feel like they had a fighting chance.

Levi and Moblit were into intense tabletop games. Games that took 8-9 hours to complete, like Twilight Imperium. Nine hours is way too long! For the lighter games, there were monthly board game nights with Erwin, Mike, Nifa, Moblit, Eld, and Petra. Hange was always invited and welcomed, but they were often miserable. Turns out, a lot of board gaming involves keeping track of numbers, which did not appeal to them as a relaxing activity.

Hange uses their brain all day at work and when they get home most days, they just want to relax with a book or Netflix.

Why couldn't Hange be more like Petra? She wasn't especially skilled, but she was gracious and was always down to play whatever the group suggested, and seemed to genuinely enjoy herself.

Levi pulled out his favourite game: Sakura Arms. He held the box up with a pleading face. Hange's chest felt heavy. Oh fuck, not that one. It was so complicated! First you have to pick your characters that somehow have to complement each other’s stats, then build a deck with synergy, and then battle Levi, who has played this game countless times with numerous opponents that were all better than Hange.

The last time they played, Hange conceded early and said, "I think I made a terrible deck and there's no way I can win from here".

"Okay, let me see".

Levi took a look at Hange's hand and said something along the lines of, "No, this isn't terrible. You could do this, this, or this, oh and that is an option too. You'll want to play around the card I obviously have in my hand, so that stops you from using this, but you could have survived a few more turns".

Hange stared at him, dumbfounded. "Obviously?"

"Yeah, you know I have it because I used it two turns ago, but I used this card to reshuffle my discard pile on my last turn."

They continued staring. How the hell does he keep track of all that? Hange was smart, right? This is just a silly game that's supposed to fun, what the fuck?

So when they saw the box in his hands, and the eager look in his eyes, Hange couldn't help it; they felt the tears coming. Stupid, childish tears, betraying them. It was ridiculous to cry over this. Although they suppose crying is better than raging.

"What's wrong?"

Hange sniffed. “I’m sorry, I'm such a big baby".

Just play the stupid game with your husband, they mentally scold themself. They love Levi with all their heart, so why was this so exhausting? It’s not like he ever asks them for anything. He cooks, cleans, does the laundry, and also has a job of his own and he never complains. Why couldn’t Hange just pretend for his sake?

Levi put the game down. He walked to the other side of the table and wrapped his arms around Hange’s shoulders, and gave them a quick peck on the cheek.

"You don’t have to play if you don’t want to. And you're my big baby, and I love you anyways". He gives them a reassuring squeeze.

Hange scoffed again, looking at the ceiling to keep more tears from spilling over. Great, now he was being sweet and Hange felt guilty. What did they ever do to deserve this man?

“That’s the thing: I do want to. At least I want to want to,” they explained and Levi tentatively listened while returning to his seat. “I just… it feels shitty to always lose. I feel so stupid. But I know you’re not going to let up on me”.

Levi gave a knowing look. "Hange, you don't actually want me to let you win. That would be an insult to your intelligence. When you do finally beat me, it's going to be because you deserve it".

Hange smiled on one side. He was right. It would be patronizing if he just let them win. And it wouldn't be rewarding either, knowing he was going easy on them. “Okay, but be honest: is it actually fun for you to play against me? Doesn’t it feel like you’re playing with a toddler?”

Levi snorted. “Give yourself some damn credit, Four-Eyes! You’re only stupid for thinking you’re stupid”. He crossed his arms, genuinely offended at the notion of Hange being self-conscious.

“Wouldn’t you rather play with someone more challenging? Like Moblit?”

“I didn’t marry Moblit”.

“That’s a shame,” they said sarcastically, already feeling better. Levi gently kicked them under the table.

“But, it really is fine if you don’t want to play, I appreciate you trying though. As it turns out, I just like hanging out with you.” Levi was serious again, but Hange was back to their bubbly self and felt like being a little shit.

“You know, I’d be okay with Moblit being your board game side-hoe. He can satisfy all of your needs,” they wiggled their eyebrows at him.

Levi scowled and said, “Yeah, there are a few needs of mine I am certain Moblit can’t help with”.

“Hoo HOOO there’s an image!”

“Ugh, can you not?”

“The two of you, huddled in a dimly lit room, strategizing late at night, silence only fueling the sexual tensi-”

“Please stop,” Levi covered his face with his hand.

Hange giggled, satisfied with his bashful reaction.

“How about we watch something instead?” He offered. “There’s a new episode of “Assault on Gargantua” coming out on CrunchyRoll in 20 minutes. The horrors of that show are nothing compared to what you just put in my mind, so it’ll be a nice palette cleanser.”

Hange beamed. “I’ll get the popcorn!”

[lovesupernova25]

I’ll Tell Your Story

Summary: “Oh my gosh he’s dead!” *gangnam style plays*

okay okay: A oneshot involving memories, a grieving Tubbo, and a really cute piglin toddler. Enjoy! (have fun crying)

“Story! Bee! Storytime!” Tubbo jerked awake, startled from his half-dream by a tiny hand tugging on his shirt. 

(That was okay. He could tell it was going to be a nightmare anyway.) He’d dozed off in Michael’s room, lulled to sleep by soft light and the sounds of toddler play.

 “Bee!” Michael pulled at Tubbo’s arm, one eye pleading.

Tubbo took a deep breath. He felt stretched, shattered. His hands hadn’t stopped trembling for a week, and his own tears were responsible for at least twenty of the burn scars on Ranboo’s skin. He barely had the energy to keep forcing air into his lungs and yet- here was Michael, his son, untouched by the same grief. Tubbo figured he could pretend for an evening. 

“Okay,” He swallowed and pulled his face into a smile. “Okay, bud. What story do you want?”

“Ummm…” Michael sat comically back on his hands as he searched the room. “Whozzat?” His eyes landed on something- a picture frame. 

Tubbo’s breath caught. Tommy and his younger self beamed at him from behind the glass, and he could make out a lake sparkling behind them and someone- probably Fundy- making a peace sign behind Tommy’s head. 

He reached for it, feeling something tighten in his chest. 

“This… this was a long time ago, bud,” And it was. Tubbo was shocked by how… different they looked. He traced his younger face with his finger- his smooth, unscarred face, still round with baby fat. Tommy’s hair had still been short, and his eyes… that fearful, haunted look he’d carried- it was gone. Both their eyes were still blue then- brilliant blue. These were the days before the election. Before everything. It was a different world, a different life. “You wanna hear this story?”

“Mmmmm..” Michael hummed his agreement. “Izzat Bee?” He poked a chubby finger at Tubbo’s younger face.

“Yep- that’s me, Mikey. Years and years ago, though.”

“Hmm.. izzat- izzat Phil?” Michael scrunched his face in confusion as he pointed to Tommy. Tubbo swallowed, almost smiling. Tommy would’ve loved to be mistaken for Phil. 

“No, Mikey, that’s not Phil. He’s got hair like Phil, though, doesn’t he?” Tubbo took a deep breath, staring down at the photo in his hand. “That’s someone you don’t know. His name was Tommy.” 

And then once he started, he couldn’t stop. “Tommy is my-” He swallowed. “Tommy was my best friend. We were like how me and Boo are now- we did everything together.” Tubbo smiled, just barely.

“Like what?” Michael yawned. He was getting bored of the story, Tubbo could tell- so he took a deep breath.

“Well, lots of exciting stuff. Tommy was brave,” He leaned toward his son, smile growing. “Brave and strong like a lion.” He lifted his hands in imitation of a lions’ claws, ready to pounce at the toddler. 

Michael giggled. “Stronger than you?” 

And Tubbo was frozen, for a moment. He felt a lump grow in his throat, but smiled gently around it. “Yeah,” he said softly, blinking hard. “Stronger than me.” 

He pulled Michael onto his lap. “Tommy and I fought in wars together- we made a home, and we had to defend it from the bad guys.”

Michael’s eyes widened. “Are bad guys gonna come?” 

“No, Mikey,” Tubbo squeezed the toddler in his lap. “We’re safe here. The bad guys aren’t going to hurt us. Before, though- there were lots of bad guys. And Tommy was-” He laughed, “Tommy wanted to fight them all. He’d just charge into battle with no plan and take on the world.” The smile was creeping onto his face again, even as his vision blurred. “Tommy was pretty stupid sometimes.” Tubbo laughed, and it sounded a little bit like a sob.

“But he was kind.” It was like the dam had opened, and Tubbo couldn’t stop. “He acted like he wasn’t- but Tommy was always kind. He’d do anything for the people he cared about. Did you know, Mikey- he fought Technoblade once?” 

Michael looked up, eyes widening. “Really?” Michael already knew stories about the half-piglin warrior- hearing this was enough to elevate even a stranger to idol status in his mind. 

“Yeah- Tommy’d fight the earth itself if it helped someone he loved.” He huffed out a wet laugh and reached up to stop a tear from spilling onto his cheek.

Deep breaths, Tubbo. 

“That was the thing about Tommy. He cared so much, so deeply- and he’d never give it up. He’d-” Tubbo swallowed, tangling his fingers in Michael’s hair. “He’d always keep fighting- lead armies and start revolutions and refuse to surrender- no matter what, he’d never surrender. Tommy would die before he let the bad guys win.” Tubbo looked down at his son, smiling again. “He was a hero.” 

Michael’s eyes were shining, entranced by tales of glory long gone. “Wowww..”

Tubbo smiled. “Yeah, wow. But people-” He looked away, holding his son tighter. “People don’t always like heroes. They told him he was stupid, or too much, or- or selfish.” Tubbo took a deep breath. He tilted his head to the ceiling. “They were wrong, though.” Tubbo looked back at Michael with an intensity in his eyes that felt like regret. “Tommy… Tommy was the best man I ever knew. He was the best leader, too- and the best friend.” Tubbo closed his eyes and hoped that the only person he wanted to talk to could hear everything he wished he’d said. “And he doesn’t need to worry- because we’re not going to forget him,” he laughed wetly around the crack in his heart, “Anytime soon.” 

Maybe the universe was kind enough to grant him that. 

Michael stretched in Tubbo’s arms. “Mmmm.. I like Tommy.” He giggled. “Imna be like Tommy when I grow up. Big ‘n strong!” He sat up, clenching his tiny hands into fists.

And Tubbo felt something a little like breaking and a little like mending deep within his chest, because it seemed the universe was kind after all. “Yeah,” his voice broke. “Yeah, you’ll be just like uncle Tommy.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[batarangsoundsdumb]

yet another ask dump yeehaw!

do you ever think that jay's mother was one of those bitch who believes in horoscope and tarots and things like that and so he believes in these things too, or it is just me projecting?

sheila haywood took one look at jason's birthchart said 'nah this won't do' and left.

Wait, but what happens when the justice league does find out that Bruce and John fucked? Lmao it sounds like it would be hilarious, really, I don’t want a justice league that doesn’t make fun of Bruce for like his entire life.

barry runs out of the meeting immediately and comes back with an entire sti testing kit. diana fully seriously wants bruce to get tested while bruce is sitting there like 'come on guys, you're being ridiculous, i already checked twice'

john is standing in the corner clearly offended while bruce is just like 'don't even say anything, constantine, you fucked a shark'

tim was like "i'm drake now" and everyone was like ahh so your fursona is a dragon and tim was like pffffft no. ducks.

on the one hand, good for him, on the other hand, bro, how do you still have a secret identity when your superhero name is just your last name,,,,

Your fic on ao3 was GOLD PLEASE CONTINUE I loved Dinah's cameo btw ( @purple-vixen

thanks so much! i already continued but this ask is like 10 years old because i'm a notorious procrastinator (also yes! i love dinah so much aahhhhhhhhhhhh)

I've FINALLY been watching the Batman animated series and I gotta say, after watching "the gray ghost" I am CONVINCED that Batman is a closeted super hero geek who was 100% freaking out the first time he met Superman and is just REALLY good at hiding it.

bruce internally: holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit bruce externally: get out of my city, alien

AHHH ur multimedia fic is the only thing that brings me happiness anymore continue it forever pls

uhh thanks, but can't continue it forever because my attention span is that of a toddler on crack on a good day and i can't function without at least 10 things going on at the same time and music in the background

Oi, so I'm getting into dc and watching batman the animated series, and they use fruitcake a lot. Which I thought was very funny and wanted to share w you - Denilla

wait like fruitcake (food) or fruitcake (derogatory) ?

young justice 🤝 teen titans slut shaming batman

tim drake and dick grayson to their respective teams 'you guys stop it, that's my dad'

Happyhoganon: If an eighty year old Batman had fought crime in Gotham City for decades and the only threats to him and the city lately are a wheel chair bounded Penguin, your usual purse snatchers and a few con artists popping up every now and then, how well could the Dark Knight do in maintaining the peace in Gotham despite him being just somewhat fit to do that as an elderly man (which says A LOT given how old he is)

uhh he'll probably do what my grandpa does and that is ruthlessly prank them until they die of shame.

in the death in the family interactive movie there's an ending where Jason is tasked with raising Damian and he decides he's gonna raise Damian to take down the waynes and al ghuls which uh maybe isn't great BUT the idea of Jason raising Damian... PRICELESS. CHAOTIC. I just need more people to know about this :)

yes i saw that wow holy shit but jason would accidentally drop damian on his head one (1) hour in and jason just yeets him into the lazarus pit.

Headcanon: The Penguin has a really hard time fighting any of the Robins because of his avian obsession means there's always a small part of his mind that's like "Birb. Child. Protect" ( @subspacecadet )

as soon as dick becomes nightwing the penguin is like 'you know what, fuck this dude' and shoots at him.

Y'all talking about King Shark dating Constantine, let's not forget about John literally hooking up with Satan

listen there's a clear difference between monsterfucker and satanfucker in that king shark is literally a shark and satan still looks like a normal dude

Does everyone in Gotham think Batman is a teen dad?

everyone in gotham thinks batman has been around since gotham was founded, but they do think that bruce wayne is actually a teen father and dick grayson's biological dad.

why. why would you do that fancast when you know it will only hurt people

what? i loved my fancast it was really well done. i did it with good representation in mind and i really managed that with alfred pennyworth being ✨italian✨

Seeing james charles a jason gave me psychic damage how dare you i need to wash my eyes

well that's a you problem isn't it?

do you think dick grayson thirst tweets about nightwing just to annoy his family/cause problems on purpose in general?

he thinks nightwing is hot, next question.

holy jiminy cricket batman, its as cold as the good lords ass crack in here!!

i- what? this is why i don't fuck with english expressions it's way too goddamn weird

Brooooooo, your teen dad!Bruce au is soooo good. I've got brainrot.

Honestly if you ever write anymore, I'd read that shit twice. Sign me the fuck up. Good stuff, Good Stuff.

uh yeah i'm thinking about writing a fic, but i have exams coming up and i don't wanna fail because that would suck. but after i'll certainly be writing more tho

your teen dad AU is so great! bruce acting like a big brother for all of like a week before he's telling everyone about his son. what if in the AU dick meets the JL because they need to rescue him? maybe he's in trouble/kidnapped at a gala and bruce starts calling for JL. clark finds him and has to fly with dick to bring him home - that's how dick and clark meet and superman becomes dick's fave hero. he goes around the manor thinking he can fly with a red blanket draped around him like a cape.

actually- if you want a young dad! bruce fic with like that kinda stuff(just with damian) go check uhh- in for a penny by cdelphiki. it's really good and bruce is like 24/25-ish. (and dick's there!!!)

This account has solely convinced me that Tim is a trash goblin ( @hamilcat-and-magic-turtle )

because he is. that boy has slept in dumpsters on multiple occasions even if he is the son of a billionaire.

Okay but when you said victory dance I did think of the whole justice league defeating the big bad and then they all start flossing

well that's exactly what hal jordan does and that's why batman uses a gun now. no but the victory dance in my opinion is like the 'we're all in this together' dance from high school musical.

The horrors in Invincible s1 was nothing compared to the comics, I cant wait for s2

oh well okay, i mean i personally react to horror and violence by laughing awkwardly so i can't wait to be called a monster for accidentally laughing at a mass murder.

I'm currently watching Batman: The Brave and The Bold and- Bruce is just talking about Oliver like he's an old love (@nightwings-kid)

okay im going to watch that lmao that's totally and completely in character for him tho.

The invincible comic is like super gratuitous with its violence so much so I'm shocked the show was able to adapt it in a faithful way! Anyway had the show been live action it absolutely wouldn't have the same impact as it does as an animated show and I'm so glad so many people agree with me on that

also because a live action casting would've been like uhh amanda stenberg for amber, the dude- the guy from the supernatural but with a mustache for omni-man, and scarlet johanssen for debbie grayson

Debbie grayson is a milf, yes. You're welcome for the invincible propoganda, now you can questions your life. Bruce def seems like the perfect father next to Omni-man. Like they really took a rip off justice league and I was like well, now I'm attached even tho I was like hah I know who they're supposed to be. And then bam- death gore death gore gore gore sad Mark grayson just had to have daddy issues. Why does every character have daddy issues. I'm sick of the attacks

because daddy issues make a person arguably funnier, that's why i'm not even remotely funny (haha good dad flex). i liked that it was dark contextually, but not in the colouring, bc i hate when it's like 'uh yeah graphic murder and now a shot so dark you have to sit in a dark room and squint at the screen to faintly see the characters. (like dcau ugh)

About the Wayne insurance, for a moment I thought you would put the video with moans over the waves.

i mean- i could've done that, but rick rolling seemed more family friendly.

Its the first time in forever that im surpise rickrolled, i usually expect it. Congratulations (i really should know better this is tumblr)

i get rickrolled so often but i actually like the song so i dont really give a fuck

Actually, my information about Damian and John's kids is outdated because it was revealed that the old men telling the kids stories about the Supersons were actually Jon and Damian the whole time. I was blinded by my thirst for Grandpa!Bruce Wayne but I was wrong... I liked my version better, tbh (@artemisa97)

fair enough. but i'd honestly like to see damian and jon getting together, just because it's a really fun dynamic and their friendship was really cute when they were kids. (also idk maybe it would be nice to have one (1) main batfam/superfam character that's not cishet)

How am i JUST finding your blog skdskfkd you're so fucking funny and ur takes are hot

i thought u were calling me hot :( but youre not :( crime detected (but lmao thanks)

So I have depression and I swear that your memes are one of the few things that have made me laugh so thank you 💛🥺 (@katekanebadass)

aw you're welcome, and i hope you're doing okay!

The metropolis memes are so funny, I love them 💀😌

i think metropolis is also so fucking funny it deserves more attention imagine having your entire police force being upstaged by an alien from kansas and his kids

as an american i feel your complete lack of knowledge of us geography is just so sexy (platonic) ❤️

thanks so much (i also don't know any other geography, i'm not kidding, like you can tell me you're from hungary and it will just blank, there will be nothing that comes to mind)

In the DC universe they don't say "Can't have shit in Detroit" they say "Can't have shit in Gotham"

this just reminds me of that guy whose porch got stolen like the steps to his door, and i'm thinking of people living in gotham and waking up without a front door and going "can't have shit in gotham"

honestly all i know about chicago is the bean, so. what would gotham's famous sculpture be?

gigantic gargoyle statue in front of one of the police precincts because a villain thought it was a smart way to keep the police inside, but it's too heavy to move.

why tf do people go on about how batman "works alone" or how he's the "lone wolf" when he like 38290202 members in his family

bc people think it's cool that a grown man in his 30s has no friends or family instead of calling it what it is (sad)

Bruce is gotham's sugar daddy

why would say something so controversial yet so brave.

my favorite batfamily fanfictions are the ones where they use their shitty codenames, unironically, in any context

dick: gerard way are you in position, gerard way are you in position

tim: for the last fucking time, my codename is 'totally not count olaf' this week, abbafan 3000

dick: shut up my codename isn't 'abbafan 3000'

dick: it's 'abbafan number 1' and you know it

I have a feeling Tim drake is ur favourite batfamily member but okay u don't have favs if u say so ok

i mean he is, i won't deny it. but i love each and every one of the batfam just the same, i just have a weak spot for short dumbass nerds, because i'm a short dumbass nerd.

Omg i fuckin love boy meets world too fam shsjkfk

bro boy meets world was the shit!!! it was just fire and awesome and so fucking great like bro. it was so good im not even going to be accepting criticism

you know I find the whole "joker completes batman" thing a bit disgusting considering the horrendous stuff the batfamily went through because of the joker and let's not get started on the "joker has a point" thing like yeah he's this cool complex villain but he's absolutely batshit crazy

like yes! i get what you mean the joker just fucking sucks man he doesn't do shit for batman's character or the batfam he's literally just annoying as fuck. like the joker has a point' shit is so stupid. i will accept 'magneto was right' because he fucking was and i think he didn't do anything wrong, but joker? he's just like that. he's not even cool and complex he's just a weirdo with a bleach kink at this point.

ALSO YOUR RACISM POST- SO TRUE BESTIE

thanks bestie, i'm glad you agree.

in today's essay of why I think cass should become batman- I was thinking Tim would probably be the most efficient batman in many ways but I also think he wouldn't want to be batman tbh none of the batfamily members would want to be batman because they're trying to outgrow him but cass is the one who wants to represent the symbol that is batman

absofuckinglutely i will say it again and again that cass represents the batsymbol more than anyone in the batfam, in batgirl (2000) she literally didn't care about anything else than bruce's oath to not kill, she thought the batsymbol was more important than anything in gotham. she's just an excellent character because her motivation to not kill is not 'i'm scared i can't come back from it' or 'well my dad says no murder so i'll go along with it' but that she's killed somebody as a young child and she never wants to kill a human ever again and that's so fucking beautiful for a new batman like yes.

need more cass, duke and tim inclusion in gothamite memes

yes yes, a tall order of cass, duke and tim coming up in 1-14 business days

oldest to youngest batfam members cus I'm confused as shit

okay order of being taken in: dick, jason, tim, cass, damian, duke order of age: alfred, bruce, dick, cass, jason, tim, duke, damian (though cass and jason are around the same age general consensus is that cass is a little older)

I'm so confused Steph is a redhead?? like how was it that hard to get this right? the source material is literally right there and free

cw is jared, 19

do you receive anon hate? if so, how do you deal with it

uh no, i'm not remotely popular enough to get anon hate and i also don't say a lot of things that would attract anon hate, but i do send anon hate to @the-real-peter-parker because he forgot about the specialists from winx club

Wait how many languages do you speak??

uhh- 5 if you include latin, but that's a dead language and i'm really bad at it. but english, my native language, german, and french also, tho german and french not fluently.

You can mix aguaepanela with aguardiente 😈 and is tasty

okay but now i'm curious if the liquor deserves the 😈 emoji or if that's a you problem. but i googled it and it looks like something you'd take one sip of and then not remember the rest of your evening.

[alluringjae]

[ 23:45 ] ⮕ END   

part of my collection of cookie cuts from all i do is wait

in order to understand, read the main story first here.

pairing: ghost!doyoung x female!reader

genre: angst, sum fluff if you really squint

warnings: death, grief

author’s note: someone asked me how i would interpret this scene, so here it is. this hurt A LOT. have fun though!

leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Mid-1953

At long last, the Korean War has ended after 3 years.

Over 5 million people dead, and to be one of the lucky survivors was a miracle.

The remaining soldiers who’ve fought through it all could return home, whilst civilians can properly rebuild all that was devastatingly destroyed in their cities. Their own normal lives included.

The fiercest 3 years of your life must you say, too engaged with self-studying your history books saved pre-war while dealing with the bargaining stage of your grief towards Doyoung. Every day, you couldn’t go on without overthinking the what-ifs. On top of that, your toddler Areum was at the stage where she loved creating a mess on the walls with her crayons. No matter how many times you’ve corrected her because it wasn��t your house, she continued anyway.

Now, she’s full-blown crying after you confiscated them and you’re on the verge of it. Thankfully, your mother stepped in to take her out for a walk in the neighborhood so you could unwind for a bit.

Since news broke out that the war ended, everyone from every street cheered and danced on the streets. You hailed with praise along with them, positive that things were going to get better. Yet deep down, you’ve selfishly wished that he was one of the lucky few to come home.

If only you didn’t chicken out so easily after he told you he was enlisting so you had a few more seconds with him.

If only you compromised him to join another field.

If only you told him about Areum earlier so he could go home.

These thoughts revolved your mind the most, instantly getting you to break down wherever you were. Even photos of him and you together were enough to tear down your walls. So, they remained hidden until the day you’re in a much better state of mind.

Dear god, you longed for him. Everything that consists of him.

In hopes to forget this tremendous loss in your life, you poured hot tea in a cup and started on this new book from this ongoing series, The Chronicles of Narnia. Getting it during this harsh period was tough, bartering it with old books you’ve owned in the market.

Fully preoccupied in the fantastical universe, flipping the pages quickly, you almost missed the continuous knocking on your door. You let out a tiny gasp and made your way to the entrance. As delusional to think it was Doyoung, you knew it wasn’t your mother and Areum either because they would’ve simply walked in. Opening it anyways, you were met by two young tall men. One had a bandage on his cheek while the other had a cast on his right arm. Noting their growing hair, they must’ve fought in the war.

Oh, if Doyoung was one of them.

“Hello, may I know who you two are?”

The one with the bandage spoke up, bowing first. “Hello, I am Lee Taeyong and this is my friend, Kim Jungwoo. We were good friends of your late lover, Kim Doyoung.”

Late lover.

Haven’t heard that since people in the neighborhood gossiped about your taboo pregnancy, but it’s not like they knew anyways. But from the letters exchanged with Doyoung before, he talked about these two highly. Whenever there were times of ease while serving, Doyoung was always up to mischievous things with these two. In a situation where they had to man up, they brought out his inner child.

“Oh, yes! Doyoung used to talk about you two in his letters, but I had no clue how you guys looked.”

By instinct, you invited them inside for tea by the patio. You’ve always wanted to meet them despite the circumstances. Bringing in a tray with a teapot and treats, mostly you were inquiring about their lives. Aside from knowing their positions in the team, you learned of their new plans moving forward.

“I want to return to university to finish my studies in mechanical engineering, maybe travel the world too.” Jungwoo stated, blowing on his cup before sipping it. He’s said to be an organized man according to Doyoung, always cautious of his surroundings. It balanced out his liveliness.

“Me too! I want to complete my major in finance, then marry my childhood sweetheart after a few years.” Taeyong expounded, his round eyes glowed in wonder. He must’ve been looking forward to this day, and you were content for him. Meanwhile, it processed to Taeyong what he said, realizing that it may have been insensitive.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” He burst out instantly. “I got stuck in my feelings there.”

“It’s okay, nothing to worry about. You shouldn’t apologize for how you feel.”

“I do think we should feel worried about you though.” Jungwoo interrupted, sighing heavily. “What happened with Doyoung-hyung all those years ago, we’re really concerned for you especially.”

At the mention of the painful memory, this wasn’t the right time to crumble. You weren’t capable to show your vulnerability to anyone but yourself. Plastering a wrenching pretend smile, “I appreciate the concern, truly. But I’ll be okay again. I’m planning to return to university too, then proceed to law school. A shared dream of mine and his.”

Taeyong and Jungwoo transparently viewed you like glass, coping with the grief of it. They were on the same page as you, and unaware to you, they knew his final words. With their interpretation, it only felt right to reach out to you. Befriend you, aid you in any possible way.

At the end of the day, three of you equally shared the suffering over the death of a loved one.

Sitting in peaceful silence, the front door creaked open followed by a tiny, high-pitched voice squealing.

“We’re home!” Your mother shouted.

“I’m at the patio, we have guests over!” You replied, pouring more tea for the two quiet boys.

From such a low-spirited atmosphere only did it liven up when an energetic Areum came into your setting. She had pigtails this time, satisfying herself with fresh bungeo-ppang from the neighborhood. No matter what you’re feeling, it took a single glance of her with her small moon-like eyes to recharge you.

“Mom, who are your friends here?” She pondered cluelessly.

The two boys exchanged looks at each other first, then to you in one breath. Their expressions of perplexity by how one’s hand was on their mouth and the other boy couldn’t stop staring at Areum, you identified exactly what they were thinking of.

“Areum, these are your dad’s friends in the army.” You animatedly confirmed. “The one with that tiny bandage on his face is uncle Taeyong, and the one with the white cast is uncle Jungwoo.”

Doyoung’s death was already so heavy to take in, but upon discovering this hidden surprise, Jungwoo wiped his tears on his sleeve. But you were fast to hand him some tissue. He was younger than you, so your older sister instincts kicked in.

“This is unjust, (Y/N).” He murmured across you so Areum won’t pick up his words. Your lips pressed against each other, maintaining a straight face at him. He was right.

With Taeyong, his arms spread out wide for the small girl who willingly walked to him. He loved children, having a nephew back home. He caressed her smooth hair down to her jaw. The first thing he distinguished was her pretty eyes followed by her squishy cheeks, resembling so much of his late friend.

“You’re so pretty, Areum. Did your mom tell you that you mirror so much of your dad?”

“Yes, she does! But I’ve never met him and I don’t when I will, uncle Taeyong.”

A tragedy how the splitting image of his best friend doesn’t see what everyone sees. But again, she’s only 3 and she can only process so much. She doesn’t know the real truth behind her father’s location, except that he was working far, far away. There are days she’d ask if he’d come back soon, yet your only response is not now. This isn’t the right time for her purity about life to stain.

“Well Areum,” Jungwoo gathered his senses again, crouching down to her level. “As his friends, we know that you look just like him! Prettier even.”

“Really? Tell me more about him, uncle Jungwoo!”

It’s about time someone else shared stories about your late lover because yours was short-lived. It’s even more intriguing to listen to what other people have to say about Doyoung that weren’t his parents. Some stories told by Taeyong and Jungwoo were new to you too, giggling along to their ridiculousness when they’re not training or fighting. Loving their presence, you invited them to stay for dinner with your family, which they couldn’t reject.

What started as a tense conversation transformed into a heartwarming experience. These two boys earned a spot in your life, aspiring for longtime friendships with them. The tender way they cherished for Areum like they’re own after meeting for the first time, it’ll fill in bits of her void. In exchange, they insisted to chip in for you and her lives so it wouldn’t be just you and your family. Struggling already with the consequences of the war, it only felt proper to do so.

“Doyoung has always been there for us, now let us return the favor and be there for you and Areum.”

Your protests were deemed useless, so you allowed them to do so. Once you finished law school and take the exams, you could pay them back. It’s phenomenal how Doyoung’s good influence towards others multiplied even after his passing. Maybe if you began to view things this way, you’d recover sooner. Although he’ll always be in your thoughts, it wouldn’t be as sensitive as it is now.

For now, you’re just going to enjoy the bliss Taeyong and Jungwoo brought, retelling old tales of a drunk Doyoung on the dining table.

From behind your garden fence in secret, Doyoung secretly observed as his treasured companions interacted at last with positivity. His only daughter mirroring his adored smile, he lived in that moment vicariously through her.

What a good time to visit today, truly.

[15-dogs]

hi!! i love ur writing! could i please request a cedric x reader with prompt 1 from list 3. maybe the reader and cedric get in a really angsty fight and the reader goes to a party that night and gets drunk for the first time and cedric takes care of her and they make up 🥺

in my head |c.d.|

pairing: cedric diggory x reader

summary: you get into a fight with cedric after he prevents you from getting over your crush on him

prompt:  “how much did you drink?”

warnings: heavy drinking, swearing

guide: (Y/N) = your name

word count: 2027

a/n: I really really love these types of prompts!! thank you for requesting hope you like it :)

“He’s not so bad,” you said, nodding your head towards a shy Ravenclaw chatting with his friends at the back of the party. Cedric shrugged with irritation.

“There’s a lot of other guys here to get your mind off that bloke you fancy,” Cedric shot back. “If you told me who he is then I could talk to him. Maybe he fancies you, who knows.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no way he’d fancy me back.”

And you were right, because that guy you fancied? It was Cedric. That oblivious Hufflepuff to your right who suggested finding a guy to get your mind off of your crush had no clue that you were talking about him.

“What’s not to like about you?”

Merlin, did that boy know how to make you melt on purpose or was he just so incredibly kind? The way he studied you with blatant confusion like he didn’t actually understand why your crush wouldn’t like you back had you weak in the knees.

“I don’t know, Ced...hey! Maybe I should talk to the twins? Fred is quite handsome,” you deflected. You met Fred’s eyes across the room, giving him a small finger wave. Suddenly, Cedric jumped in front of you.

“N-no!” he stammered out. You quirked a brow at him.

“No?” you repeated. “No, what?”

“Just...no! Not him!”

Couldn’t he let you have anything? First, you had to spend nearly every day with him and pretend like you weren’t absolutely smitten and second, he had been the one to suggest you should talk to guys anyway.

“What’s your deal?” you bickered, your voice raising in volume. “You haven’t let me talk to a single guy all night! This was your stupid plan!”

“You’re looking at the wrong guys, (Y/N)!” Cedric retorted. He was quieter than you but you could still hear the anger in his voice.

“The wrong guys? The wrong guys?! You know what? Fuck this and fuck you, mate! I should’ve never fallen for you of all people!”

Your body went rigid. The words hadn’t meant to come out but they did. Nearly everyone at the party had their eyes glued to you two but your eyes were solely on Cedric. He let out a few heavy breaths before looking away from you.

“What?” he asked softly.

You couldn’t be there. Not with everybody looking at you. Not with everybody knowing everything. You shook your head as you backed out towards the entrance, not bothering to look at anyone on your way out. You tuned out Cedric’s cries as you ran to your common room, hot tears stinging your eyes.

As you ran into the common room however, there was a small gathering of your housemates throwing back drinks. It reminded you of the party that you had publicly stormed out of and then the memory that you so desperately tried to block out came rushing back. You thought you were going to be sick, it was all too much. But no, you couldn’t think about it. And the best way to forget something is to drink, in your opinion. So, bottoms up.

The small gathering soon turned into a rager. Most people followed after you not so stealthily to see exactly what was going on, others were simply uncomfortable with the atmosphere that was created at the other party. Plastic cups were strewn across the room, music pounding, and drunk Hogwarts students talking much too loudly for your liking.

After Merlin knows how many drinks later, you heard a distant call of your name. You shook your head, confirming you just imagined it. But then it happened again. A pit grew in your stomach as you saw who it was. Wait, no, you were going to throw up.

“(Y/N)!” Cedric called out. He weaved through the throng of wasted students and found you nearly doubled over on the couch. “Shit, (Y/N), come with me.” Cedric tried to help you off the couch but you planted your feet firmly to the ground, shaking your head adamantly.

“No,” you burped out. You slapped your hand over your mouth in a flash, feeling vomit rising up your throat. 

Cedric gave you a stern look which caused you to feel even sicker. He groaned at your insolence before tugging you off the couch and dragging you out of the party. You flailed against him as much as you could without upsetting your stomach further. You could feel the cold sweat coming on and you were sure you weren’t going to make it to the bathroom. Fortunately, Cedric was a prefect and there were perks that came with that. Cedric opened the secret entrance to the prefect’s bathroom and rushed you in. You stationed yourself in front of the closest toilet you could find, emptying the contents of your stomach instantly.

“How much did you drink?” he sighed as he snaked his hand into your hair, wrapping it loosely around his fist. You respond with more heaving sounds. “Right,” he muttered.

It was almost impressive how much you threw up. You were there for a good few minutes before your head lulled back and you had to look at Cedric’s sad, blue eyes. The sight of his devastation was almost enough to make you sick again. You weren’t totally sober yet, but it was an improvement― a slight improvement.

“Don’t do that,” you groaned. Cedric furrowed his brow.

“Do what?”

“Don’t give me that look like you’re disappointed in me.”

Something about your words hurt Cedric. He shifted uncomfortably in his position before standing up. He hesitantly held a hand out for you which you shook your head at. Cedric fought back an eye roll as he snatched you off the ground, ignoring your protests.

“You’re so bloody stubborn, you know that?” he grumbled while he escorted you out of the bathroom.

“Maybe you’re just…” you slurred, giggling at the joke you thought you just made. “That was a good one, wasn’t it.”

“Mm,” hummed Cedric in response, “hilarious.”

Cedric walked into the Hufflepuff common room with you, blatantly ignoring the disgusted stares that you two got. He helped you up the stairs to his dorm which you believed were the stairs to your dorm. So, when you arrived in his room, you were quite surprised.

“We’re not even in the same house!” you cried. “When did we get here?”

Okay, that got to him. He let out a small chuckle as he guided you onto his bed. You laid down, snuggling up in his sheets; they smelled just like him, it was intoxicating. Cedric disappeared from his dorm and returned a minute later with a wet cloth, water, and some crackers.

“Here,” he offered, placing the food and drink on the bedside table. He then placed the wet cloth on your forehead, studying you with some sort of hidden something that you couldn’t quite place.

“I’m not a toddler,” you whined.

“Prove that to me, then.” Cedric nodded towards the items beside you. You sat up, glaring at him one more time, then ate a few crackers.

“I hate that I find you attractive.” At your words, Cedric caved in on himself. He looked anxious, almost like he wanted to tell you something but couldn’t get it out so you continued. “What? You already know. Might as well air it all out.”

“(Y/N), you don’t have to do this-”

“No, but I will. You irritate me but I can’t get you out of my head. You suggested that I shag some bloke at the party and then-”

“That’s not what I said-” he gasped.

“Is too! That’s exactly what you said!”

“It absolutely is not!”

“Fine!” you shouted, ignoring the thundering in your head. “Please, do tell. What did you say?”

“I said find another guy to help you get over that ‘one-sided crush’ you wouldn’t stop talking about! I never said a bloody thing about the party!”

The combination of his yelling and your recently refilled stomach had you ready to vomit again. Your eyes went wide as you pointed aggressively at a waste bin at the back of the room. Cedric raised his eyebrows at you before dashing over towards it, handing it to you just in time.

After you had gotten all the contents out of your stomach, you began to get tired. You wanted to argue with Cedric, you truly did, but there was no use. You couldn’t keep your eyes open.

“Look, take my bed tonight. I’m sure the other guys have found...afterparty activities that they’d like to attend and won’t be coming back until morning,” Cedric suggested as he helped you drink some water. You tried to protest, but your eyes began to fall shut. The last thing you remembered before falling asleep was Cedric gently tucking you in.

You woke up with a terrible, pounding headache. Your sleep obscured your vision and you rubbed your eyes, examining the emptied bedroom. Well, nearly empty. Cedric was sprawled on a bed across the room from you.

Merlin, last night could not have happened.

It all came rushing back to you. Storming out of the party, getting wasted, finally admitting how much you liked that sweet, kind, blond Hufflepuff who only considered you as a friend.

Lovely.

Cedric stirred at your groaning. He propped himself up on his elbows to get a good look at you. He was even handsome when he just woke up! What kind of glamour charm had he had installed in his genetics? You were sure you looked something close to a mountain troll, making you want to hide your face from him.

“Hey,” he began. His voice was raspy, making you shiver. “How are you feeling?”

“Sober,” you admitted. You rubbed your aching temples, not noticing how Cedric got up from his bed and positioned himself behind you, taking over in your massage. His fingers were like little jolts of electricity through you, instantly soothing your pain. You relaxed into his chest before going rigid; last night was real, wasn’t it? 

“Remind me never to drink again,” you said to break the tension.

“Duly noted,” he replied with a chuckle. “Can I tell you something, love?”

Your heart hammered in your chest. “Y-yes.”

“No need to be nervous, it’s not-”

“Just spit it out, please!” you begged. You winced at your loud tone, clenching your eyes shut. “I know it’s about what I said last night. I remember...sort of. All I know is that I told you I fancied you and you couldn’t say it back-”

“That’s not true.” His voice was calm and even, making you reassess if your memory was accurate at all. “It’s not that I couldn’t say it back, I just didn’t.”

You felt fireworks go off in your chest. You quickly caught yourself, reprimanding yourself for assuming that he liked you at all.

“W-what are you saying, Cedric?”

“I didn’t want to tell you that I fancied you while you were drunk.”

It happened. He said it. He felt it too. You wanted to hug him, hold him, kiss him, but you couldn’t. You had to ask him something first.

“Why did you suggest I see someone else then?”

Cedric’s hands made their way down from your temples to your waist, wrapping his arms around you and resting his head on your shoulder. “I didn’t know I was the one you fancied so, more or less, I was suggesting you shag me to get over whatever git didn’t like you back.”

Your stomach erupted into butterflies. What was he implying? “Why didn’t you say that last night?”

“I didn’t want to make a move when you weren’t right in the head.”

Cedric slowly spun you around. You were millimeters from his face. His eyes were solely locked on your lips and you didn’t mind. He leaned in and gently moved his lips against yours. It was hypnotic, it felt so good. When he pulled away, you were breathing heavy. It wasn’t an intense kiss but the passion took your breath away.

“Don’t worry,” you said. “I won’t be forgetting that any time soon.”

[themusicplayedherlife]

to love is the greatest gift

3. The Child

pairing: obi wan kenobi x f!reader (past!din djarin x reader | past!obi wan kenobi x satine kryze) characters: f!reader, din djarin, baby djarin obi wan kenobi, anakin skywalker-amidala others word count: 6k+ warnings: angst, fluff, death, longing, slow burn, guilt summary: au! It has never been the right timing for you and obi wan, but maybe this time will be different. a/n: so, this was planned and partly written before we knew grogu’s name, and there’s actually a reason why baby’s name is baby, but probably won’t come up lol �� now we’re just upping the ante and I’m not sorry lol if you have any questions about this story or requests, send them my way and I will try my best to answer ☺️

Then.

The loud noises of the bar were swallowed alive by the cars that rushed by and the occasional helicopter that flew overhead—faint music thumping from all directions; neon lights so bright like artificial stars, fading headlights moving in all directions.

Pretty. Picturesque, but not what you focused on for too long.

You moved fast, hand pulsing with pricks of pain and refusing to listen to Obi Wan, who followed closely behind, pleading for you to stop and—will you listen to me? Your determination to get away from him, the bar, and find his stupid piece of junk car in the packed parking lot drove you forward. He already dragged you out, might as well leave altogether—if only Anakin and Padmé would hurry!

“What were you thinking?” he asked after you, voice thick with worry and indignation as he kept up with your quick pace.

“He was being an asshole!”

“So you decided to punch him?” He heaved a sigh, grabbing your wrist and keeping you from continuing (or from running away from his impending lecture). “A man twice your size?”

You jerked away from his hold, refusing to meet his gaze and find disappointed blue eyes staring back at you. “You didn’t hear what he was saying—”

“Oh, I heard perfectly, my dear, but I wasn’t about to engage with some drunkard.” He said it so dismissively and judgmentally that you recoiled, the anger you managed to release earlier coming back tenfold, but this time for a different reason. 

Why did he always have to be so non confrontational, so unlike Anakin and his hit-first-think-later personality? Why couldn’t he allow himself to get angry even for only a moment? Why did everyone else have to get angry for him? More importantly, why did you have to get angry for him? You don’t understand!

“How are you not mad then?” you outcried, throwing your hands up in the air. “He called you—”

“Why would I be?” He smiled, like he knew something you didn’t, and it only made you more frustrated. “I have you to defend my honor.”

“That's—Obi Wan! Seriously?” Maker, he was too much! “Take this seriously, will you?”

He chuckled and reached for your hand, the same one that had glocked the giant’s jaw. It hurt, a lot, much more than you were willing to admit, but in Obi Wan’s hands, the pain felt nonexistent. 

“I didn’t expect you to hit him.” You wished he looked at you, showed you what he was thinking. He squeezed your hand in his, inspecting it gently. “Could’ve gotten hurt.” He sighed again. “I wanted to—needed you safe.”

“I wasn’t going to let him get away with saying those things about you,” you murmured, the cold air harsh in your throat, hard to swallow, but his hand was warm—he was warm.

“I know.” He ran his thumb over the area, careful to not cause you more discomfort—always so careful and sweet with you. But there was something swimming in those eyes of his, a hint of something you couldn’t quite place as they followed the movements of his thumb. 

“I’m sorry I ruined your birthday,” you murmured.

“You could never.” He lifted your hand higher and you allowed him to—let his warm breath fan over your stinging skin. “My little warrior.”

Lips connected with your knuckles—soft, plush, delicate, and your breath hitched—he was never this bold with you, always keeping you at a certain distance for as long as you could remember—his darling, but never truly his.

“I am envious of the person you will choose to spend the rest of your life with,” he said, hesitant—barely breaking through the blood rushing in your ear—wanting to say more than what he was allowing himself to; hand dared to push back a stray piece of hair that couldn’t stay in place, choosing to dance with the wind. “Your future family will be lucky to have you.”

Now.

Din’s love can be powerful and kind. But he is also a man with too many layers and shields up to protect himself from the onslaught of cruelty life can gift to one human being.  

Someone once told you (joked really) that loving him was like the age old question of how many licks did it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop. It was a stupid analogy then and it’s still a stupid analogy now, but it didn’t make it any less fitting.

Anakin never understood your relationship with Din, seeing only the surface level of the man you were once in love with. Padmé saw beyond the gruff and tough exterior, but she grew worried that you’d expend too much of your love and energy to get to where he could finally return it with equalness.

And she was right.

Sometimes, it was too much, and the selfish part of you wanted to walk away many times; wanted to give up the patience that you had thought you’d nurtured and grown over the years. But you’d fought against that selfish part of you, stood strong and tall as you worked through all of his layers of armor. Loved him and his toddler that you saw as your own (because he was, he was much more yours than the mother that left him on Din’s doorstep a couple of years ago).

It was Din who gave in first, the struggle of having someone wanting to be part of his life, wanting to give their all to him was so foreign to the poor man that sometimes he didn’t know what to do other than fight against it—against your love. 

Even if he was the one to end it, there was no denying he had loved you, loved you in ways that were intimate, kind, and sweet. He made you feel things that no one else had, made your mind and body sing in ways that you sometimes search for in other partners.

Although the love you share now is different, like friends that have seen each other grow and blossom into who they are today, you don’t regret the time you spent learning and loving each other. He’s the first real, adult relationship you have ever had (and in a way you’re his first too), after all. You don’t regret any of it.

You don’t think he does, either.

“Are you sure you can watch Baby?” His fretting is still as cute as ever, worried that he’s asking too much of you. He knows Baby is yours as much as he is his, but his insecurities always get the best of him.

“Yes, yes!” You wave him away, too busy focusing on your little one with his chubby hands grabbing at your necklace. Maker, how you adore him. “I don’t have any meetings today”—thankfully—“I only have to go over the checklist for the Winter Charity Gala.” You finally spare him a glance as he hovers by the door. “Besides, people love babies, and if they don’t we could just switch guides or kick them out—either or, isn’t that right, my little womp rat?”

Baby giggles, slapping your chest gently in excitement, his little legs squeezing your middle as you balance him with one hand holding him and the other holding his leg. “Yes!”

He sighs heavily, muttering your name like he used to when you “sacrificed” nights to help him when Baby was teething and wouldn’t let him sleep. 

You roll your eyes affectionately. “Stop it, Din. It’s fine. My work is flexible and besides, I've been wanting to spend more time with Baby during the week, anyway.” 

His expression falls and his eyes fill with remorse, and stars are you a horrible person. You didn’t mean to make him feel bad!

“Din, I didn’t mean it like that.” You would never blame him for spending time with his son. The fact that he even lets you take him on weekends or even spend days with him during the week is such a huge thing. You’re not Baby’s mom, but Din lets you be his mom. “I just meant I love spending time with Baby.”

“I’m sorry,” he croaks.

“Don't be! You do more than enough,” you assure him, berating yourself for even making him think you don’t appreciate what he does for you. “You don’t need to let me spend time with Baby, but you do. You make sure I do.”

“Of course, I could do no less,” he says, soft and warm, like the blankie you and Din bought Baby when he turned one. “You are Baby’s buir. Blood or no blood.” He closes the distance between you and wraps his arm around you and Baby, pressing his forehead against yours. “We are family.”

You look up at him with glassy eyes, and he smiles down at you, kind and tenderly. His own eyes glassy and the area around his eyes red. “Family,” you repeat, heart bursting in your throat.

“Family!” Baby exclaims, making you and Din burst into wet laughter.

“That’s right, ad’ika,” Din says, rubbing Baby’s back. “Who am I?”

“Papa!”

“And who am I?”

“Mama!” It never gets old hearing him call you that.

“Our Baby is so smart,” you coo, kissing his chubby cheeks loudly, making him giggle and lean into you for more kisses that you’re willing to give. “So, so smart!”

There’s a knock on the door and Din moves just slightly to where you could see the door as you ask who it is.

“It’s, uh, Obi Wan.” Your breath hitches, the hold you have on Baby tightening slightly—I’ve missed you, my dear. I will see you soon; warmth on a cold night, hands brushing hair away from eyes and tears away—shit.

“Who?” 

Glancing at Din, you realize you haven’t told him about Obi Wan’s sudden return… visit… whatever this is, not two nights ago when you showed up at his apartment and asked if you could spend the night or yesterday morning when you woke up with puffy eyes and made them a breakfast too large for a family of three. 

His eyebrows furrow in question, trying to figure out who Obi Wan is on his own. He practically knows everyone you work with or are friends with except for Obi Wan, whose picture he has definitely seen and name he has definitely heard offhandedly from Anakin and the others but can’t quite place. 

“Come in, Obi.” It’s a slip of the tongue, an affectionate nickname that you can’t quite stop yourself from saying even in the presence of an ex-lover.

“Obi?” Din mouths.

You really owe him an explanation.

“I’m sorry about my sudden intrusion, darling. Anakin”—of course Anakin has something to do with this—“had hoped we could have lunch together. He’s sent me—” The door opens slowly and Obi Wan peers into the room, almost as if afraid to enter. And with good reason, when he sees Din and Baby his mouth falls slightly agape at the unexpected sight and he trails off. “Sorry, I didn’t know you had company, if I had known—”

“It’s fine, Obi Wan,” you interject softly, hiking Baby higher on your hip. He’s getting bigger and heavier now, harder to hold, but it doesn’t stop you from carrying your little one. “You’re not interrupting.”

“I was just leaving,” Din follows, glancing at you with intrigue and the silent question of—who is he? You exhale softly.

“Din, this is Obi Wan Kenobi, an… old friend of mine and Luke and Leia’s godfather.” Recognition flashes in his eyes. “Obi Wan, this is Din Djarin.”

“It is nice to finally meet you.” Din moves away from you to offer his hand to Obi Wan, who accepts it. “I have heard a lot about you.”

“As have I,” Obi Wan says, stern and firm, guarded and completely unlike the Obi Wan you once knew. 

Din raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything while you groan internally. What exactly has Anakin been feeding Obi Wan?

“What about Baby?” The little one in your arms squirms indignantly and you laugh, finding him looking at you with a scrunched up face, displeased that you haven’t introduced him, yet.

“I’m sorry, honey.” You nuzzle his little button nose with yours, closing some distance between you and Obi Wan. “Obi Wan, this is Baby Djarin, Din’s son.”

“Our,” Din corrects, shooting you a look.

“Right.” You bite your lip to hide your wide smile, ducking your head before nodding. “Our son.”

Obi Wan blinks, taken aback by the sudden information, and you don’t blame him. You’ll have to explain this situation to him, since apparently Anakin and Padmé chose to omit this part of your life from him, at a later date. (You ignore the fact that you have as well, but then again, you weren’t the one that kept in touch with him after he left the second time, and it’s not like you’ve had a chance to tell him since he got back either.)

He clears his throat and a smile settles on his lips, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It is a pleasure to meet you too, little one.”

Baby is absolutely delighted that Obi Wan is offering his hand, practically jumping out of your arms to shake his hand. Din quickly balances him and you by placing a hand in your back and another on Baby’s tummy.

“Careful,” he murmurs, which makes Baby pout and mutter, “No, thank you,” even though he’s straightening up. Chuckling, he ruffles his son’s curls. “I should get going.”

“Good luck,” you tell him, watching him lean down to kiss the top of Baby’s brown curls. “There’s no doubt you’ll get the job.”

He sighs, a corner of his lips lifting into an unsteady smile. He’s nervous. “I hope so.”

“Hey, you’re going to do great,” you assure him firmly. “You know all the ins and out, and have Cara and Greef vouching for you. You are more than qualified for this position.”

He cracks a small smile. “Yeah, you’re right.” He doesn’t sound super convinced, but he still manages to nod resolutely and picks up his sling bag, but then he pauses. “You sure this is fine?”

You roll your eyes again. “Yes, Din. It’s fine. Baby being here is no trouble at all. The team loves him.”

“Okay. Okay. Just—I’ll try to head back as soon as I’m done.”

“Take your time and don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

His head tilts slightly, but then he nods, finally relenting. Turning to Obi Wan, he says, “Again, it was nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” Obi Wan supplies back, it’s still tense and stern, but there’s something else too, something detached and unfocused.

Din doesn’t let it bother him, instead focusing on his son. “Bye, Baby.”

“Bye, Papa!”

“I’ll see you both later.”

“Yeah, yeah, go!” you urge. He shoots you a look and you laugh. “Go.” 

Din finally slips out the door but not without another kiss to Baby’s head.

“Son?” Obi Wan breaks his silence as you put Baby down.

He’s quick to run to his bag and pull out a blanket, handing it to you to place for him on the floor, in front of the blue, grey loveseat. Din and you always place it on top to make it easy to take out, and after seeing you and his dad do it so many times, Baby just knows his ground blanket is always on top.

“Yes.” You spread the blanket out, smoothing it, and Baby tries to help by grabbing the corners and tugging.

“How old is he?”

“Hey, Baby,” you faux whisper, “wanna tell Obi how old you are?”

Holding up four fingers in Obi Wan’s direction, he practically yells, “Thwee, almost four!”

Obi Wan chuckles, thoroughly amused at how excited Baby is to share his age and his inability to truly say the letter r. “Wow! You’re so big.”

“Yes,” Baby says, dropping himself onto his bottom once he’s satisfied with how you’ve laid out the blanket. “Very big!”

“He’s turning four in a month,” you inform him with a smile, sitting down next to your little one. “It’s why he’s starting to put up four fingers. Luke and Leia have been teaching him.”

“So Anakin and Padmé know?”

“Of course they do. Why wouldn’t they?”

His eyebrows furrow and he looks away from you for a moment. “They didn't mention it to me.”

“Oh.” Probably because Anakin didn’t think they’d be part of my life after Din and I broke up. But that’s not what you voice, instead you say, “I figured they hadn’t with how you reacted earlier.”

“Baby is from a previous relationship of his?” He wasn’t, not exactly, but Obi Wan doesn’t need to know what isn’t your information to give. “And you and Din are co-parenting?” He raises an eyebrow, a perfectly arched eyebrow, and it reminds you so much of the young Obi Wan Kenobi that you’d try so hard to impress with your ever growing knowledge.

You’re sure he doesn’t mean to sound like he’s being judgmental, but it sure as hell sounds like it when he stares at you like that—like he’s questioning your choices. You don’t like it. Never did.

“Baby was only a few months old when he came into our lives.”

“You have grown attached.” It isn’t a question, it’s a statement, a heavy loaded statement, one you don’t know if you even want to begin to decipher.

You sigh slowly and say, “Yes, Obi Wan. I am attached.” Baby slaps his hands on your thighs, grinning toothily, and you smooth his hair away from his wide, brown eyes. “How could I not be? We are family. Blood or no blood.”

“I see.” He wants to say more, you can tell by the way he speaks his words slowly, with restraint.

Something bubbles in your stomach, nothing pleasant. It's anger and frustration and this need to yell at him like when you were both younger and less mature. It only ever happened when he wasn’t listening to you, treating you like you had no idea what you were doing or saying. It was rare those moments, mostly born from lack of sleep from all-nighters focused on essays and exams, or sometimes born from nothing at all, just bad luck and circumstance.

It makes you want to push, just like then; to force him to tell you exactly what he wants to say. It’s never stopped him before, so why now? But Baby babbling in full sentences to himself while trying to pull his toys out of his bag reminds you that you are not that person anymore, haven’t been that person in such a long time. And maybe it’s for the best.

 “Wed truck?” Baby asks, showing off the newest toy in his collection, and when you place your hand out, thinking he wants to give it to you, he stands on his two little feet and walks over to Obi Wan, careful to not trip over the blanket. “Cheer up, pwease. Wed truck will help!”

Any hint of anger or frustration or hurt that may have remained, dissipates as Baby looks up at the standing man, his little hand holding onto his pant leg and the other holding up the truck. 

Obi Wan stares down at him, and that earlier aloofness, that stern way he regarded Din, and even you with, is gone, replaced by something tender, warm and soft. “Thank you, Baby,” he says, dropping to his eye level and gingerly taking the truck from chubby hands—the toy that seems so big in Baby’s hand completely swallowed by his larger one.

Baby lets out a pleased giggle and tilts his head, grabbing onto Obi Wan’s knees. “You're very welcome!” With a random smooch to Obi Wan’s nose, he moves away from him and makes his way over to you, grinning proudly.

Obi Wan stands, watching the little boy fondly as you ruffle his hair, giving him a wet kiss to his cheek that makes him laugh loudly. “You’re raising a wonderful boy, both you and Din.”

You pause your onslaught of kisses—Baby managing to slip away from your grasp—and you watch him closely, love filling your chest. “I like to believe we are.”

Baby moves to his bag and pulls out his learning tablet, immediately plopping down with it and opening up the case to pull up one of his many learning apps. It had taken you and Din a long time to finally give in and get him the darn thing, but Padmé had vouched for the item. Now Baby can’t have enough of it, always curious about everything and waving the thing in your face occasionally to ask you a question.

“I always knew your future family would be lucky,” he says, far away look in his eyes and smile barely lifted—there, just not wide. Your breath stutters. “You and Din make a lovely couple.”

Did he not know? Is this why he didn’t know about baby?

“Obi—” Your eyebrows furrow and you find yourself standing, tentatively reaching for his hand—and why do you feel like easing whatever turmoil he is in?—“Din and I… we care for eachother, deeply. He is my friend, the father of my child, but he and I—we haven’t been together in such a long time.”

“Maker.” He breathes in and out, squeezing your hand and lifting it to his face. “I have no right to be—I have been gone for too long, haven’t I?” He rests it against the slope of his cheek, nuzzling into your palm. “Missed out too much on your life. You’ve grown so much.” 

“So have you,” you whisper, allowing him to press kisses to your palm, wanting nothing more than to weave your hands into his hair. You repeat the words, because it’s true. You can see it in his tired eyes, how they don’t shine as they once used to—the lines that have appeared at the edge of his eyes and the beard he’s starting to grow out, keeping it nice and trim.

“Not as much as you think, my darling.” He chuckles, kissing your wrist one last time and just allowing your hand to cradle his cheek. “Appearance wise, maybe. But mentally…”

“That can’t be true. You wouldn’t be here if it were.” Even if it’s only for a couple of days.

“Perhaps.”

Baby giggles and you briefly glance at him. He’s perfectly content, mouthing words and sounding them out.

“If I,” Obi Wan starts, stealing your attention from your baby, “if I told you I wanted to stay, what would you say?”

Your throat swallows—dry, like sandpaper, eyes wide as they study him, searching for a semblance of uncertainty or lie in his words. Perhaps for a confirmation that this isn’t a cruel joke meant to tug at your heartstring and pull them apart until you’ve become undone. There is nothing in his clear, blue eyes that tells you it is. 

But you know that Obi Wan wouldn’t say something like this without it holding some truth.

He waits patiently for you, eyes searching yours just as intensely—but he’s worried, eyes wavering, unconfident.

This isn’t you. This isn’t him. This topsy-turvy, unstable relationship where you’re trying to figure out the other person, learn who they have become in the years lost without asking or finding a reason to talk. No, your relationship was always about comfort, knowing the other by watching and observing, of making the other feel safe—at home.

You know how to respond, “I would say: welcome home, Obi Wan Kenobi.”

“I’m home,” his voice hoarse and thick, “my little warrior.”

Your mouth falls open—the words, the question: “are you truly staying?” stuck in your throat and trying to form on your tongue, but you’re in disbelief. “Obi-Wan, what—”

A small arm slivers around your leg, and you stumble forward from the startle and momentum, knocking into Obi Wan. Strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you upright and steady against his chest. Your eyes lock onto blue ones in surprise and he mumbles a soft, “Hello, there.”

You huff under your breath, mumbling your own, “hello” and he smiles at the sound. Ignoring the flutter in your tummy and chest (blaming it on the stumble you almost took), you glance down to find Baby with an arm wrapped around Obi Wan’s leg and yours, hugging you both tightly. 

“Welcome home, Obi,” he exclaims when you both glance down.

Obi Wan laughs loud, head thrown back and hair falling over his eyes—your heart constricts at the sight. When was the last time you saw him laugh like this—not in pictures or videos but in person? 

Too long, your heart supplies in a broken whisper.

“Why thank you, little one.” He slowly untangles himself from you and crouches down in front of Baby, brushing his curls away from his face. “Would you like to see a magic trick?”

“Magic?” Baby claps, letting out an excited chirp of agreement, ready to be wowed by whatever Obi Wan was about to show him. “Yes, please!”

Warmth takes over you as you watch how gentle Obi Wan is with Baby, which doesn’t surprise you. But it hits differently when it’s your own child he’s being sweet to. Is this what it would’ve been like if he had given you both a chance? Kids of your own? Marriage?

Your phone rings, pulling you out of a spiral of thoughts you would rather not go down when he’s present. You thank the maker for the timely call and answer without a thought—“Anakin.”

“Where are you?”

You sigh, turning away from Obi Wan and Baby to focus on your shelves full of astronomy books. “I’m not coming to lunch.”

Baby squeals in delight and you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as he grabs the quarter Obi Wan produced from thin air.

“Is that the little womp rat I hear?” You hummed in agreement, briefly explaining why Baby is with you and not his father. “That usually doesn’t stop you from coming out to lunch with me.”

Baby shows you the coin and you mouth an excited, “Woah, that’s amazing!” He laughs giddily and returns it to Obi Wan, asking him to do it again.

You briefly glance at Obi Wan and Baby and lock eyes with the former. You offer him a small smile before quickly turning away. “You have something to tell him, don’t you? You said you would.”

“I—I know.”

“Not so easy, is it?” you murmur, trying to make a joke out of it, but it falls flat, and you know it does when he sighs.

“I’ll do it. I will,” he affirms. “Rip it off like a bacta strip.”

“Ani, you don’t have to.”

He’s quiet for a moment and when he breaks it, his voice does too, “I owe him this much.”

This much. Clean—the air was too clean when there was blood and death and—stop!

You shake your head and your heart drops to your stomach. Stars. You should’ve figured this had nothing to do with Obi Wan but everything to do with Anakin. Maker, how stupid could you have been? You were so worried about you and Obi Wan that you neglected Anakin completely!

“Ani—“ your breath stutters.

“Darling?” You turn around, and Obi Wan stands only a few steps away from you, Baby sitting on his forearm as if weighed nothing—blue eyes watching you worriedly. “Everything all right?”

No.

“Yes.” You clear your throat. “I think Baby and I will be joining you for lunch, afterall.” Anakin says your name, and you cut him off. “We’ll meet you by the pendulum.” Anakin once more says your name, but you hang up on him.

“Shall we get going?” You meet Obi Wan’s gaze with a shaky smile, pushing your hair away from your face. 

There was never a dull moment when it was you, Padmé, and Obi Wan. Your headmistress used to call you and Padmé trouble, wondering how it was possible you two could influence each other so badly and still keep up with your grades—as if sneaking out and fooling around occasionally was so blasphemous.

Things only got livelier when you graduated and Anakin moved to Coruscant. Thankfully for your headmistress’ blood pressure, you were long gone, starting university and finally moving into the apartment your parents had promised you would be yours (and Anakin’s). Instead, you were giving Obi Wan headaches and Padmé heart palpitations.

Much to their dismay and your amusement.

“Remember when you punched the guy?”

“Don’t remind me!” You groan, clutching your hand. “My hand still hurts whenever I think of that night.”

“If I remember correctly, Anakin also punched him,” Obi Wan says pointedly in Anakin’s direction. “And that ultimately got us banned from the bar.”

“To be fair, he was asking for it.” Anakin shrugs. “I only finished the job she started.”

“Go!” Padmé yelled, louder and with much force than Anakin. 

“What?” You didn’t even get to finish the word as the large man you had punched emerged from the bar, blood caked to his face and eye swollen beyond belief—which you know for a fact you didn’t do. And he wasn’t alone; four other men with menacing mugs followed after him, heads whipping in different directions—until they landed in your direction.

Your eyes widened and your heart dropped to your stomach—that’s not good. “Kriff!” 

Without waiting for the others, Obi Wan took your hand in his and began to lead you away from the parking lot, ignoring your sudden yelp at being tugged in the opposite direction of where you were positive he parked his car. 

“What did you do, Anakin?” Obi Wan yelled back at the twenty year old, who looked far too amused by the situation than he should’ve been.

“Gave him a little taste of what he deserved!”

Padmé yelled something, voice drowned out by a motorcycle rushing by you, but it was followed by laughter so loud it overpowered the sounds of the ever alive city.

“What was it that Padme said while we were running?” you ask, trying to remember with narrowed eyes.

“That they couldn’t take us anywhere nice,” Anakin says with a shit eating grin.

You scoff, muttering, “That’s right,” while turning to Baby to make sure he was finishing his soup.

“And she was right.” Obi Wan shakes his head. “Having to pick up my car from the tow yard was a nightmare the next morning.”

“Hey! Padmé and I thought you two were already in the car.” Anakin gestures between you and Obi Wan. “I was kind of chancing on our getaway car being ready, but no, instead you two were just standing there in the middle of the parking lot.”

Lips connected with your knuckles—soft, plush, delicate and your breath hitched—he was never this bold with you, always keeping you at a certain distance for as long as you could remember—his darling, but never truly his.

The corners of your lips drop and you try to pick them up again as best as you can, hoping it doesn’t look like a grimace. It does. You know it does with how Obi Wan’s smile wavers and Anakin glances between you with a raised brow.

“Well,” Obi Wan starts, hoping to remove the uncomfortable veil that has fallen over you, “it’s a birthday I’ll never forget.”

“It was a good one, wasn’t it?” Anakin takes the bait, recalling that night fondly. “But nothing beats turning 18 and finally moving to Coruscant, for me.”

You laugh under your breath and Obi Wan chuckles, both sounding a little strained, but Anakin doesn't seem to notice. Probably for the best.

“All done,” Baby suddenly celebrates, raising his arms with glee in your direction.

“Good job, you little womp rat!” Anakin reaches for Baby and cleans his face with a napkin, your little one allowing him to do so, unlike when you try to do it. While Anakin might have some thoughts towards Din, there was no denying Baby holds a spot in Anakin’s soft heart.

“I’ll get the check,” Obi Wan offers, waving to get the attention of your waiter. You’re about to refute him, but Anakin nudges your shoe and shakes his head. Sighing softly, you close your mouth and watch him give up his card to the young man that had been serving your table.

“Thank you,” you whisper gratefully and he smiles at you.

“It’s my pleasure, darling.”

With your meal paid and Obi Wan’s card returned to him, you exit the restaurant with Baby holding your hand and walking, refusing to be held and carried to the trolley. It means you’ll be walking slower, but maybe this is exactly what you need to be able to tell Obi Wan—more time.

You and Anakin exchange looks and he gives you a little nod while you let out a sigh—it’s now or never. 

Rip it off like a bacta strip, little one.

“Obi Wan,” you start slowly, “there’s something we need to tell you.”

He pauses mid walk and steps aside to leave an area of the sidewalk free for people to walk by. It’s a busy day, even for a weekday, but it’s not surprising. The plaza and park near the Observatory are always busy on bright, sunny days.

“We’ve been—we’ve been having—” Anakin lets out a growl of annoyance, struggling to be able to form the words. His eyebrows scrunch up and he scowls, and you gently pull him back with a squeeze of his shoulder. He glances at you and you tilt your head to the side.

He sighs and steps aside, taking Baby from you and leading him over to the grassy field to distract him for a few minutes.

“Is everything all right?” There’s a hint of panic in Obi Wan’s words and you quickly nod to try and dispel it.

“Yes!” He’s taken aback by the volume of your voice and you soften your next words, “Everything is fine. There’s just something he’s—we’ve been wanting to tell you for quite some time.” Now that your hands are unoccupied, you wring them and keep your eyes leveled with his chest. “Every year, for the past few years, we—we’ve been visiting your father’s resting place,” you whisper, afraid of what speaking these words aloud might do to him. Last time you tried telling him, he shut down the idea before you could even bring it up completely. 

“I—I see,” he answers with trepidation, unsure.

“Everyone gets together to clean the area and replace the flowers we leave for him when we visit.”

“I—I appreciate it.”

“And when we’re done we go home and we—”

“You honor my father,” he says hoarsely, finishing it off for you.

“It’s what he wanted,” you murmur. And it was. He knows this. He was present when Qui Gon said so. “We would—we would like it if you joined us, Obi Wan. Everyone brings a dish and we have live music, and we share stories—”

“I—I see… and when is this happening?”

“The day before—”

“The day before he passed,” he once again finishes for you and you nod hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze, and although he’s already looking at you, his eyes are glazed over, not exactly focused on you.

“Obi—”

He takes a step back and clears his throat. “I’m sorry, darling. I—I need to go.”

Not again. Please, not again!

“Obi—” you try once more, reaching for his hand, but he jerks away and your hand falls, grasping the empty space between the two of you—again.

“Please tell Anakin I will speak to him soon.” He turns on his heels and swiftly walks away—shoulders tense and never once looking back.

“You must let go when the time comes, little one.”

Your shoulders sag, letting out a shaky breath as Anakin comes to a stop beside you. There’s no need to look at him to know he’s been hurt by Obi Wan’s reaction, because you have been too. But what is there to expect of a person who doesn’t want to let go of the dead?

Obi Wan was right, he hasn’t changed at all, and you were a fool to hope otherwise. 

“Let’s go,” you break the silence, taking Baby from him and placing Anakin’s hand—that hand—in yours, not missing the way it trembles in your hold.

Mando’a translations

Buir = parents/son/daughter

Ad’ika = my child