mel-1n-hell

[kazoosandfannypacks]

summary: "Though all Mandalorians placed heavy emphasis on the value of their beskar armor, for some it was just armor, a thing only to be taken up in a time of war. Others believed that to remove your helmet or even so much as a glove around another living being was to make yourself an outcast. Most Mandalorians fell somewhere on the spectrum between them, and house Wren and its clan leaned towards the latter, not allowing themselves to remove their helmet. Their custom held one distinct caveat: once a Mandalorian had chosen a partner, a partner for life, their souls bound by a tie no man could sever— then, and only for them, could they remove their helmet, and share their face for the first time with another living soul." or, "the au in which ezra falls for sabine without even seeing her face" word count: 7927 words a/n: I hope you guys are having a great week! the good news is that I'll hopefully be writing more fic over the next couple weeks! the bad news is that that's because I'm on crutches at the moment and avoiding doing fanarts for related reasons… let's just say, I now know firsthand that getting stabbed in the foot REALLY hurts. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this fic, because I had a lot of fun writing it! It's my longest sabezra oneshot, so far, so that's exciting! shoutout to the talented and creative @kanerallels and the lovely and sillygirlcoded @laughingphoenixleader for betaing! taglist: @laughingphoenixleader @accidental-spice @kanerallels @piraterefrigerator @jedi-nurse @dootchster @lucasbridger @redroverrider @light-umbra @commander-tech @jedimandalorian @notanodinarygirl {if you’d like to be added to or removed from my Sabezra taglist, let me know!}

also on ao3!

This is (Kinda) The Way

 There were two kinds of people Mandalorians disagreed with— others and themselves. For every disagreement a Mandalorian had with an outsider, they had even more among their own ranks. Customs, traditions, and language were the biggest one, especially when it came to the one thing that united them all— their armor.

 Though all Mandalorians placed heavy emphasis on the value of their beskar armor, for some it was just armor, a thing only to be taken up in a time of war. Others believed that to remove your helmet or even so much as a glove around another living being was to make yourself an outcast.

 Most Mandalorians fell somewhere on the spectrum between them, and house Wren and its clan leaned towards the latter, not allowing themselves to remove their helmet. Their custom held one distinct caveat: once a Mandalorian had chosen a partner, a partner for life, their souls bound by a tie no man could sever— then, and only for them, could they remove their helmet, and share their face for the first time with another living soul.

🧡•💜•🧡

 If this were a normal day, Ezra would be sitting on the familiar outskirts of his home city right now, feasting on whatever he could get his hands on. Instead, he was on a starship in the vacuum of space, with a group of rebels who thought it better to steal for others than for themselves— and somehow, it felt right, not just helping others, but the people he was helping others with.

 In the few days he'd been on the Ghost, he'd gotten to know everyone pretty well. Hera was kind and brave, Kanan was cranky but meant well and cared about people almost as much as Hera did, Zeb would flatten him if he got within two feet of himself or his food, and Chopper loved nothing more than making others miserable— overall, it wasn't an awful combination.

 The one member of the crew Ezra had a hard time connecting with was Sabine. Maybe it was because of how she'd shrug him off whenever he'd talk to her, or the fact that she didn't eat in the galley with the rest of the Spectres— but more than likely, it was because she was always wearing that helmet, and the armor that (mostly) matched it. He'd never seen her without it, and from what he'd gathered, no one else in the crew had either.

 That afternoon, he'd run into her in the galley, as she was grabbing a meal to take back to her room. No one else was around, so he figured now was as good a time as any to risk a social blunder.

 "Why do you always wear that armor?" Ezra asked.

 Sabine stopped partway through the cup of juice she was pouring herself, just for a moment, then continued.

 "I'm a Mandalorian," Sabine said.

 "Okay?" Ezra shrugged. Mandalorians had come to Lothal before, and they'd had no problems with taking off their helmets. "I've seen Mandalorians take off their helmets before."

 "Well, they must not've been from clan Wren," Sabine said. That was the closest she gave to an explanation before storming off, much faster than normal.

 Ezra told himself not to replicate that mistake again.

🧡•💜•🧡

 "Can I talk to you?" Ezra asked, taking a seat in the cockpit diagonal from Hera— Sabine's seat, he could tell from the paint job, but she wasn't around anyways at the moment.

 "Sure," Hera said.

 "I just," Ezra sighed, "I know you're the best person to ask— that is if I don't wanna get laughed at for asking or end up getting my question answered with two more questions I don't know the answer to like Kanan always does."

 Hera smiled a little as Ezra said that, which he added to his mental folder of What Exactly Is Going On Between Kanan And Hera, Anyways?

 "Why doesn't Sabine take off her helmet?" Ezra asked, "I know lots of Mandalorians who do, well, one or two of them, and I don't really personally know them, but..."

 He could tell his question had been a serious one to Hera, because when he asked, she turned away from the ship's controls for the first time since before he came in. Instead, she turned to Ezra, her hands folded in her lap as she leaned toward him.

 "Not all Mandalorians are the same," Hera said, "just like not all Twil'eks, humans, or Jedi. Different clans have different customs they adhere to."

 Ezra nodded. That kind of made sense.

 "What happened to the rest of Sabine's clan?" Ezra asked. It was hard to tell exactly how old she was because of the helmet, but she didn't seem too much older than he was, and he'd never heard mention of her family.

 "Mandalorians are a brave people," Hera answered, slowly, "fierce warriors who don't like change in their customs and traditions. Naturally they're not the kind of people the Empire likes having around. I never asked questions when we found Sabine, at least, not after I learned she wouldn't answer them."

 Hera shook her head, and Ezra nodded. The Empire had probably done the same thing to Sabine's family that they'd done to his.

 "Armor is important to a Mandalorian," Hera said, "handed down from generation to generation. It might be one of the only things she still has."

 "I get it," Ezra said, and stood up to leave.

 "One more thing," Hera said, and Ezra turned back to her, "she may have a rough exterior, but that doesn't mean she doesn't need a few good friends."

 Ezra nodded. If there was anyone who seemed hard to make friends with, it was Sabine— so if there was anyone who needed friends, it must be her.

🧡•💜•🧡

 Even in the midst of yet another heated disagreement with Chopper and Zeb, Ezra wasn't gonna abandon Operation Be Sabine's Friend, so when he saw her painting in her room with the door open, he only felt it right to stop and say hi.

 "What are you working on?" Ezra asked, leaning his arm against the doorframe.

 "A little piece I like to call 'none of your business.'"

 "Okay," Ezra shrugged, "well, if you ever get tired of painting 'none of your business' and need inspiration..."

 "I'll be sure to look elsewhere," Sabine said, then mumbled something under her breath in some language Ezra didn't understand.

 Ezra didn't have time to ask what that meant before Chopper zoomed by, running into Ezra and almost knocking into him, and leaving Ezra to forget about his quest to befriend Sabine.

 At least, until that night, when he counted it a victory that Sabine had painted himself and Zeb on the wall of their room, even if it was the most humiliating representation of him he'd ever seen.

🧡•💜•🧡

 Ezra knocked on Sabine's door, and was surprised when she actually opened it this time.

 "What is it?" Sabine asked, arms crossed.

 "She must be in a better mood than normal today," Ezra thought.

 "I just," Ezra shrugged, "I know you like doing art and painting and stuff, and you do a really good job at it."

 "And?" Sabine asked.

 "I," Ezra pulled a stormtrooper helmet out from behind his back, "I wanted to know if you'd paint this for me?"

 "Why?"

 "I wanted a helmet to wear on missions," Ezra said, "that way no one knows who I am."

 "What, using other criminal's names as an alias just isn't cutting it for you?"

 "I'm serious," Ezra said.

 "Then wouldn't it be better to leave it plain?" Sabine asked, though she took the helmet from him, which was a good sign, and she held it up and surveyed its surfaces.

 "Nope," Ezra said, "last time I went in there with a white bucket, Zeb said he couldn't tell the difference between me and the troopers and knocked me out cold. I don't want him to have that excuse anymore."

 "I'll see what I can do," Sabine said. She closed the door before Ezra could get another word in, and he didn't see her for the rest of the day.

🧡•💜•🧡

 "Look alive, Jedi!"

 Ezra looked up just in time to see an unidentified flying object hurtling towards his face, and surprised himself by catching it— this Jedi stuff was really paying off. He looked at the large chunk of plastoid in his hands and quickly recognized it as the helmet he'd given Sabine the previous morning, though now it had a fresh paint job. Ezra didn't know much about art, but he could recognize Sabine's handiwork.

 "It's perfect," he said, looking up overtop it to see Sabine, seating herself proudly on the table he was sitting at.

 "It's nothing," Sabine said, "the only thing better than painting is defacing Imperial property in the process."

 Ezra smiled as he tried the helmet on, suddenly remembering something else he'd taken— or, helped take, anyways— from the Empire.

 "This is great," Ezra said, then leaned closer to her, "I just might commission you to work your magic on some other stolen Imperial property, if you're up to it. Something much larger than a helmet."

 He could hear the excitement in her voice, despite how hard she tried to hide it.

 "What do you have in mind?"

🧡•💜•🧡

 "A TIE Fighter?" Sabine asked, standing outside the cave on Lothal not long after, "are you crazy?"

 "Come on," Ezra said, wondering if this was a mistake, "you said you wanted to deface government property."

 "How did you even get a TIE Fighter here?" Sabine asked. 

 She walked around the fighter, clearly studying its surfaces as though envisioning what they'd look like when she was done with it.

 Ezra smiled. She'd already taken the bait.

 "Zeb and I may have 'borrowed' it when we went on a wild meiloorun hunt," he explained.

 "Yeah," her helmet peeked out around the wing she was standing behind, "and Kanan and Hera told you to destroy it."

 "I know," Ezra fake-sighed, "but our options were blow it up without the best explosives expert on our team— or leave it as a canvas for her next masterpiece. I guess the choice is up to you..."

 "Go grab my spraycans."

🧡•💜•🧡

 Ezra had never watched Sabine work before, but she'd said he could stay as long as he kept lookout at the mouth of the cave and didn't say anything, and Ezra took that as a step up from the usual.

 He bit back his hundreth question in the last few hours, knowing that if he was going to get Sabine mad at him for talking, it would have to be something a lot better than "is orange your favorite color? Mine too."

 He held his hand out and sensed as much as he could, every Loth Rat and Loth Cat within a good sized radius of the cave— but not another sentient life for about as far.

 The very first orange hues started creeping into the horizon. They'd need to be getting back soon.

 He turned back to Sabine, and since he couldn't see her face, he'd learned to read her body language to make up for it, and she seemed to really be enjoying herself and her work.

 He'd never seen an artist at work before, and was impressed by how in command of the spraycan she was. Ezra had tried drawing once or twice, and found his Loth Cats looked like angry jogan fruits, and his people looked like a platter of noodles that'd just had a very bad day.

 Apparently, reflection on his own inability to draw wasn't the best thing to do on an empty stomach.

 But Sabine's art was almost less like a drawing and more like a piece of herself, like maybe if Ezra studied it enough, he'd see all the pieces of her she hid.

 And if that was the case, then she must be absolutely beautiful.

 "Wow," Ezra whispered, apparently not as quietly as he absentmindedly had thought.

 "That doesn't sound like not talking," Sabine was quick to reply.

 "Sorry," Ezra shook his head, not even having noticed until now how hard he was staring at her, "I just, how are you so good at that?"

 "Practice," Sabine said, "a little hard work and discipline will get you pretty far."

 "That's what Kanan's always saying," Ezra rolled his eyes.

 "Well maybe you should start listening," Sabine called back, "or, at the very least, stop talking."

 "Sorry," Ezra said, then looked back out at the horizon. As much as he enjoyed this secret painting session, he was getting hungry, and knew the rest of the crew would be suspicious if he missed a meal.

 "We should get heading back soon," Ezra said, "It's almost dark."

 "I'm almost done," Sabine said, adding one last white stripe, "there. Now I'm done."

 Ezra got up and walked over to the TIE Fighter, in awe.

 "Am I allowed to talk now?" Ezra asked.

 "I guess," Sabine said. He could hear the sarcasm in her voice as she packed up her art supplies.

 "It's amazing," Ezra said, "way to stick it to the Empire."

 "I am pretty good at what I do," Sabine shrugged.

 "Oh, more than that," Ezra said, "it's a shame no one else will ever see this."

 "It's not about others seeing it," Sabine said, grabbing her case of spraycans, "this one was for me. It's about the process."

 Ezra nodded. After seeing how lost in the process Sabine got, he understood why it all meant so much to her.

 "Sabine?" he said, as they left the cave.

 "Yeah?"

 "Thanks for sharing it with me."

🧡•💜•🧡

 Ezra had always thought Sabine was cool. He met her stealing from the Empire, and she'd jumped off a rooftop onto a moving speederbike— how much cooler could someone get? Combined with the custom armor and quick wit, she was strong contender for coolest person he'd ever met.

 And the more he got to know her, the cooler she got. She designed her own armor. She was a weapons expert. She was, apparently, fluent in two different languages, which was probably what made her so quick to come up with insults.

 Sabine always knew what to say, good or bad— usually scalding and rude— and Ezra didn't mind hearing it. Somehow she could make an insult feel as special as a compliment. It was almost like the sound of her voice was enough to give him unreasonable joy.

 "Ugh," Zeb growled one night as he trudged into their room, "why haven't you gotten rid of that thing Sabine painted on the wall?"

 "It's not a thing!" Ezra defended, sitting up on his bunk, "it's art."

 "It's a stupid drawing of us from years ago," Zeb said, "and frankly, I'm getting tired of looking at it."

 "Yeah," Ezra said, "well, I'm not."

 He turned his back to him as he laid back down, but not before noticing a smile on the Lasat's face, and he could hear him chuckle over his shoulder.

 "That's what I thought," Zeb said, smugly.

 "What?"

 "Oh, nothing," Zeb laughed, something surprisingly not unpleasant in his voice.

 Ezra recognized that tone. It was the same tone the guys on the base used whenever he'd tell them about the latest mission he'd gone on with Sabine, and it usually carried a "wow, Bridger, when are you gonna just ask the tin can out already?" with it. The other young guys in the rebellion were, well, just that, young guys. They could scarcely go more than five minutes without talking about girls and who was going with who and which girls they would be going with if this war ever gave them a night off, so it was only natural that they'd joke about the possibility that Ezra had a crush on Sabine.

 But Zeb? Zeb had never talked with Ezra about girls or feelings or anything like that before, never even hinted at it— until now. Something about a mostly-trusted, somewhat-wise, maybe-in-some-ways-experienced crewmate hinting at it made the possibility of Ezra liking Sabine made it feel all the more real.

 "There's no way I have a crush on Sabine," Ezra thought, "I've never even seen her face before. I mean, she is amazing, coolest person I know. And sure, I like spending time with her, and anytime I start talking to her I don't want to stop, but that's normal, right? And sure, my heart skipped a beat that time she grabbed my arm to pull me out of the way of Imperial fire, but what if that's just the adrenaline of the fight, right? Just because I can't stop thinking about her and want to keep hanging out with her for the rest of my life and feel all giggly whenever I think about her doesn't mean I have a crush on her, right?"

 He looked over at her handiwork graffitied on his wall and smiled rather stupidly.

 "Who am I kidding?" Ezra sighed, "I definitely have a crush on her."

🧡•💜•🧡

 It wasn't too long before Ezra had realized that not only did he have feelings for Sabine, those feelings were growing. More and more frequently, he caught himself thinking about her when he was supposed to be doing other things like Jedi meditations and recon missions.

 A favored distraction of his male curiosity was Sabine and her constantly shrouded face. He respected her privacy, and never attempted to see her face— besides, maybe the mystery was part of the charm— and often when he'd fall asleep at night, he'd try to imagine what her face looked like. At first, the faces ended up looking similar to other people, girls he'd met on the base, a bounty hunter he'd had a run-in with, or even a merchant girl he'd seen in the village. But every time, she seemed Not Quite Right, and he'd try again. Eventually he started coming up with all kinds of versions of her— one night she'd be a redhead, the next he'd imagine her with green skin, then after that she'd have eyes that were just black blobs— it didn't really matter. He'd only ever see her with her helmet on anyway, so what did it matter?

 But even with the helmet, anytime she walked in the room, he could feel his heart race like she was the most beautiful girl alive.

🧡•💜•🧡

 "Karabast," Ezra muttered, jumping back a bit by instinct from the blue milk that overflowed from the glass he was pouring it into and spilling all over his hand, and now onto the floor.

 "I should know better than to pour myself a drink when Sabine enters the galley," Ezra thought, setting his drink down on the counter behind him as he searched for a cloth to clean it up with, "a Jedi has to stay focused."

 "Need a hand?"

 He heard Sabine's voice behind him and turned around quickly— too quickly, as his forehead rammed into helmet.

 "Ow!" Ezra said, wondering what could possibly make an armor that hard.

 "Sorry," Sabine said, and her gloved hand touched the now-sore spot on his forehead, "are you alright?'

 "I'm fine," Ezra said, ignoring the pain in his forehead for the moment. He'd dropped the towel, and now he swirled it around the floor with his foot to clean up the spill, knowing that as bad as the injury was, it couldn't be nearly as bad as what would happen if Hera caught sight of the mess he'd made. "My forehead isn't dented, is it?"

 "I'm no medic," Sabine said, opening the conservator and scrounging around in it, "but it looks like it'll be the opposite. At least you'll be able to make up one of your elaborate stories about the bump it'll leave."

 "Oh yeah," Ezra said, "about how I accidentally went head-to-head with a Mandalorian and ended up almost literally crying over spilled milk."

 She laughed a little at his attempted joke, then pulled a frozen bag out of the conservator.

 "Put this on it," Sabine handed it to him, "that'll numb the pain and slow the bruising, or something like that."

 "Thanks," Ezra said, and as he pressed the bag of frozen rations to his forehead, Sabine bent down and finished taking care of his mess on the floor.

 "What happened, anyways?" she asked.

 "I guess I got distracted," Ezra said, still distracted by her.

 "While pouring a glass of milk?" Sabine asked, looking up at him quizzically before turning back to her work of drying up the floor.

 "Yeah," Ezra scratched the back of his neck.

 "I've noticed you've seemed a little spacey recently," Sabine said, "almost distant. Something on your mind?"

 "More like someone," Ezra said, before he could stop himself, and she looked up again before he had a chance to get that stupid love struck smile off his face.

 She stopped what she was doing for half a second, then got up off the floor.

 "I gotta go," Sabine said.

 "Sabine...."

 She tossed the towel onto the counter behind him and turned to leave, but Ezra didn't want to see her go, not now or ever. He searched his words for something to say that would make her stay.

 "I don't know how to ask you out!"

 Ezra could tell without even needing to see her face that, as unexpected as his words were, Sabine still couldn't've been more surprised to hear him say that than he was. Still, she stopped and turned halfway back to him, so whatever he'd just done, had accidentally worked.

 "What?"

 "Normally if I wanted to ask a girl out," Ezra said, knowing the oncoming ramble was going to sound desperate— which wasn't entirely inaccurate, "which, technically I never have— at least, not with it actually leading to a date— but if I did, I'd ask them if they wanna go get dinner, which you, specifically, don't really do with people. So then I'd ask about getting ice cream instead, but then: same problem. So then I've been trying to think of different activities you like that we could do together, but all I could think of is fighting the Empire and defacing government property— which we already do together, and could do more of, but those don't really sound like date night activities, unless we were holding hands, but...."

 Sabine had walked over to him while he was rambling, and now she stood in front of him, arms crossed.

 "Are you asking me on a date, Ezra?" Sabine asked.

 "I'm trying to," Ezra said, "is it working?"

 "Me?" Sabine asked, "you want to go on a date with me?"

 "That's the hope," he shrugged, "if you're up for it."

 "Why?" Sabine asked, "is this some cheap attempt to try and get my guard down? It's not some ploy to try to see me without my helmet, right? Because...."

 "I know," Ezra said, "you don't take your helmet off. It's a clan thing. I wouldn't ask that of you."

 Sabine took a heavy breath. "You'd really go out on a date with me, armor and all, just because you like to spend time with me? No ulterior motives?"

 "Absolutely."

 "And you're okay with the fact that you'd never see my face?"

 "Absolutely," Ezra said.

 "How about a holofilm at seven tomorrow night?"

 "Eat dinner separately first?" Ezra asked.

 "Sounds like a date."

 He smiled as Sabine walked away, unsure how he'd managed to do that, but very glad that he had.

🧡•💜•🧡

 About halfway through the holofilm, Sabine's hand found its way into Ezra's.

 "You're okay with the fact that I'm wearing gloves?" Sabine had whispered.

 "Of course," Ezra'd whispered back, his emotions a flutter at the mere fact that she was on a date was him, that her hand was in his at all, even with the layer of leather between them.

 Sabine Wren had said yes to a date with him, and now their fingers were interlocked as they watched a holofilm together at the base's rec room. Her helmet, hard and heavy though it was, laid against his shoulder. What more could he possibly ask for?

 As they walked back to The Ghost together afterwards, their fingers were still entwined.

 Ezra noticed the chill in the air— he'd been planning on it, and had worn a jacket over his nicer shirt tonight, because he knew either he'd be cold, or, better yet, she'd be cold, and he'd have the chance to do what the boyfriends in all the old holos did.

 Much to Ezra's delight, Sabine shivered as a gust of wind blew across the base.

 "Those old Mandalorian traditions don't say anything against wearing a jacket over your armor, do they?" Ezra asked.

 "Well, no," Sabine said, and before she could say anything more, he'd let go of her hand, taken his jacket off, and draped both the jacket and his arm over her shoulder.

 "How's that?" Ezra asked.

 Sabine huddled a little bit closer to him.

 "Perfect," she said.

 They walked together in silence for a moment, Ezra knowing full well that if he opened his mouth he'd ruin the moment and blow all chances of a second date.

 "Ezra?" Sabine asked, her voice a whisper as they neared the Ghost.

 "Yeah?"

 She stopped in her tracks, and he did too.

 "Do you want to do this again sometime?" Sabine looked at him, her head barely tilted up, a glimmer of a reflection of the stars in her visor.

 "If it's all the same with you," Ezra said, his tone still hushed, "I'd like to do this again a lot more times."

 "Really?" Sabine asked, "you wouldn't have a problem going steady with someone you've never seen face to face?"

 "Of course not," Ezra said, and he turned toward her and took both of her cold gloved hands in his, "I could spend the rest of my life with you and still not have a problem with never seeing your face."

 Sabine didn't respond, and Ezra was bad enough at reading expressions, but especially when he couldn't even see the other person's expressions. Maybe that was too soon, too fast. On any other first date, that would've seemed too forward, but when you've been fighting side by side with someone for years, living on the same ship and sharing your struggles, a first date hardly felt like the first one. Still, maybe something as big as "I want to spend the rest of my life with you," was a little too much for a first date doorstop conversation, and he'd probably ruined his chances right there.

 He loosened his grip on her hands, but she tightened hers, not letting his hands slip away.

 "I don't always have to wear my helmet, Ezra," Sabine said.

 "What?" Ezra asked, "I mean, I know you take it off to eat, and probably to sleep too, and maybe when you use the sonic, not that I've thought about that, but you always have to wear it around others, right? That's what Hera said."

 "Hera doesn't know everything," Sabine said, "I can take off my helmet, but...."

 Her voice trailed off, but he desperately wanted to follow it. He nodded and squeezed her hands a little, silently pleading her to continue.

 "Our clans customs don't say we can't ever take off our helmets," Sabine said, "but that the only person who can see us without our helmets is our ruusaar riduur, our life partner. It's a huge commitment, one that some spouses don't even make with each other."

 Ezra smiled. "So you're saying I have a chance?"

 "I'm saying there's almost no chance," Sabine said, "like I said, it's a commitment, and I don't do so well with committing to anything, and, besides, we'll probably fall apart before we reach that point anyway."

 "Not on my watch," Ezra said, not about to let anything happen to push Sabine out of his life, "and thank you for telling me."

 "This still doesn't change anything." 

 "Of course not," Ezra said, "I still love you just the way you are."

 He was barely an inch or two taller than her, but that didn't stop him from standing on his tiptoes, leaning towards her, and planting a kiss on top of her helmet.

 "Same time next week?" Sabine asked.

 "It's a date," Ezra said.

🧡•💜•🧡

 Several dates and missions and trials and soft-giggles-while-staring-at-each-other-from-a-distance-es later, Sabine found herself with the choice to go back to help her people. Though Ezra strongly encouraged her to go, it wasn't without tears on both of their parts, and if it wasn't for the whispered, "I'll wait for you"s in their goodbye hug before she left, he would've certainly assumed it was over for them.

 But instead he held out hope for them, trusted that the same force that brought them together and connected them across the galaxy would bring them back together, and his waiting paid off not long after, when he found her in his arms again, this time in a hug that meant hello instead of goodbye.

 "I've missed you," Ezra whispered, holding her tightly and not willing to let her go, ignoring for the moment that Kanan and her entire clan were watching them.

 "Me too," Sabine whispered.

 He then let her go, knowing he hadn't made a great impression on her family the first time he met them and wanting to rectify that— especially when they began the mission to save her father. Maybe he kriffed up in his first meeting with her mom and her brother, but he determined that her dad's first impression of him would be a good one.

🧡•💜•🧡

 "Are you with my daughter?" Alrich asked, as Ezra jumped in to save him as part of their mission.

 "If that's okay with you, sir," Ezra said, then realized the question was about the status of her rescue mission, not the status of her relationship, "I mean, uh, yeah, we're, uh, we're here to rescue you."

 Though his answer wasn't more rambly than normal, he felt more like an idiot than normal. Sabine always found his stumbling through his words cute and endearing, but the other Mandalorians didn't appreciate his candid words much, preferring instead to see action. So, Ezra made sure to show plenty of it, fighting alongside them later with such reckless boldness that he took a blaster bolt to the left shoulder and still kept going until the battle was over.

 As the medical droid tended to his wound, Sabine sat next to him, holding his right hand lovingly as she sent forth a flurry of angry Mando'an words at him that amounted to a more colorful version of "don't you dare do something that dangerous and stupid again."

 "Aww, 'Bine," Ezra smiled under his helmet, (he always wore one of his repurposed helmets on Krownest, to respect her people's traditions,) "I didn't know you cared so much."

 "Maybe next time that happens I'll just let you bleed out," Sabine teased.

 "You wouldn't dare," Ezra said, "besides, what is it you always say? Something about finding my combat skills and selfless bravery attractive?"

 "Bravery?" Sabine asked, "more like borderline stupidity."

 "And this one was skillful, brave, and borderline stupid," Ezra said, wishing his helmet didn't hide the playful expression on his face, "admit it, you thought it was hot."

 "Maybe a little," Sabine said nudging his uninjured shoulder with hers, "just never do something that ho- stupid again, understand?"

 "You and I both know I can't avoid that," Ezra said.

 "I know," Sabine faked an overdramatic sigh as she rested her head on his shoulder.

🧡•💜•🧡

 Apparently his heroics charmed the rest of the clan as well, especially Alrich. Sabine chose to return with Ezra and Kanan to the Rebellion, and as her family gathered to say their farewells, her father bestowed upon Ezra a special gift.

 "We want you to have this," he said, and handed Ezra a shoulder pauldron, one that was inlaid with the Wren family crest.

 "Thank you," Ezra said, studying the heavy hunk of metal he'd been gifted, then looking up at Sabine's parents with gratitude, "it's a huge honor."

 "You were shot protecting our clan," Ursa said, "and Clan Wren honors that. This shoulder guard will protect your arm while it heals. Not even your lightsaber is strong enough to cut it."

 "Is this real beskar?" Ezra asked.

 "Of course," Ursa said, "it belonged to Sabine's ancestors. Clan Wren has carried it for generations, and counting."

 Ezra didn't exactly have time to unpack all the meaning in that sentence, but he was pretty sure those last few words meant something along the lines of Ezra being on his way to becoming part of their clan now, a high honor.

 "Thank you," Ezra said.

 "Be good to her," was all Alrich said in reply, and as Sabine's hand slipped into Ezra's, he understood what he meant.

 "I will," Ezra nodded, "I don't intend to do anything that stupid."

 "He made a promise not to do anything stupid," Sabine said.

 "The jury's still out on how long Bridger can keep from doing something stupid," her brother interrupted, "but he's earned my respect."

 "I'll take care of her," Ezra said, "and if I don't, well, I have full confidence that she can 'take care' of me, and probably knows at least a dozen ways to hide the body."

 "Two dozen," Sabine said, and that's when Ezra knew he'd been on Krownest for too long, because there was something almost romantic in the way she'd just threatened him, and he'd been around Mandalorians long enough that he enjoyed it.

🧡•💜•🧡

 As soon as they were back on the ship on the way back to the fleet, Ezra took off his helmet. He didn't like how it limited his visibility, its awkward bulk, how heavy it made his head feel. He then took off his gloves so he could fluff his hair up a little— another thing he couldn't stand about his helmet was how sweaty it made his hair, and somehow at the same time staticky, clinging closely to his head in a way that didn't feel natural.

 He heard a sigh behind him and saw Sabine sitting on the bench he stood next to, the chin of her helmet resting on her fists, her arms propped up on her knees, apparently watching him with great interest.

 "What?" Ezra asked, smiling as he sat down next to her.

 "I've missed your stupid face," Sabine sighed, her gloved hand running along his scars as though she thought she'd never see them again. Though they'd seen each other a lot these past few days, Ezra'd never taken his helmet off unless he was by himself— or with just Kanan, who obviously didn't mind that Ezra didn't follow Mandalorian customs around him, and if he had minded, wouldn't've noticed anyways.

 But Sabine hadn't seen Ezra's face since before they first went to Krownest together, months ago, and from the tenderness of her leather touch, he knew it'd been too long for her.

 "Well," Ezra said, trying to flirt back and failing to find the words, "I'd missed your stupid, uh, helmet?"

 She laughed a little. "It's good to be going home."

 Ezra slid his hand under and around hers, and whispered, "you have no idea."

🧡•💜•🧡

 Not too long after, Sabine and Ezra sat in the only place they'd ever found they could share a quiet moment together on the Ghost, sitting next to each other on the bottom bunk in Sabine's room.

 Well, "sitting next to each other" was an understatement. His arm was wrapped around her, and her hand held his, and her helmet rested on his chest, and they were talking and laughing with each other in a way they were sure no one else in the galaxy had ever experienced or could possibly understand.

 "I still don't know how I managed this," Ezra said.

 "Managed what?" Sabine asked.

 "The coolest, smartest, most beautiful girl in the entire Rebellion is my girlfriend," Ezra shook his head, "not bad for a street rat."

 Apparently only one word in that sentence mattered to Sabine.

 "Beautiful?" Sabine asked, "Ezra, you've never seen my face."

 "I don't have to to know that you're beautiful," Ezra said.

 "How do you figure that?"

 "Well, I've seen your art," Ezra started, "you're always saying that art is a reflection of the artist, and if that's the case, you must be absolutely gorgeous, because you're the most talented artist I've ever seen."

 Sabine nestled closer to him and hid herself even further in his embrace, like she often did when she was embarrassed by how much Ezra was complimenting her. The joke was on her though, because he really enjoyed it when she did that, and it only made him want to shower her with even more praise.

 "And I've heard your voice," Ezra said, "and anyone who can make an insult sound as pretty as you can must be very pretty herself. You have a really pretty laugh, too...."

 "Okay, I get it," Sabine said, barely stifling a really pretty and slightly flustered giggle.

 "I'm not done," Ezra said, "I've also seen how you fight, how graceful and smooth in even the most deadly battles. That's beauty. The pride in each and every one of your explosions that goes as planned, that's beauty. That tone of voice that makes me know your face is shining under that helmet: beauty; the heart you have that can't help but help others, no matter how you try to hide it— it's all so beautiful. You're all so beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful to me."

 "But you still haven't seen my face," Sabine said.

 "And I've told you a hundred thousand times it doesn't matter," Ezra said, "that I'd spend the rest of my life with you, even if I could never see your face."

 "And do you mean that?"

 "Every time."

 "Not just the 'if you'd never see my face' part," Sabine clarified, "the other part. You said it when we were younger, that you'd spend the rest of your life with me if you could. Do you still mean that as much as you did back then?"

 Ezra sat up properly, this conversation seeming to have gotten a bit more serious and wanting to show that he recognized that.

 "Sabine, I mean it so much more than I did back then," Ezra said, taking both her hands in his, "every time I say it I mean it a little bit more. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

 "But do you mean that?"

 "With all my heart."

 Sabine took a deep breath.

 "It's not like I'll never take off my helmet," Sabine said, "showing my face would be a sign of commitment. It would show that I'm absolutely sure I want to spend the rest of my life with someone. I'd have to know that I love someone enough, with all my heart and soul, to want to them to be my forever."

 "'Ruusaar riduur' is what you called it before," Ezra said.

 "Yeah," Sabine said.

 She slipped her hands out of his, and before he had the chance to wonder if it was because he'd done something wrong, he realized it must be because he'd done something right. Her hands gripped the sides of her helmet, then pulled it off her head.

 Ezra found himself absolutely speechless as he looked the face that he'd loved for years but only met now. He'd pictured her looking hundreds of thousands of ways, but this face, with the big brown eyes, and the shy smile, and the dark hair that didn't even reach her shoulders and somehow looked flawless despite her having worn her helmet for the last few hours, and this face— her face— was the most beautiful face he'd ever seen.

 It took him a moment to understand what it all meant. If she'd taken her helmet off, that meant that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him— the most beautiful girl in the world (and now he could with all the more integrity say that about her appearance) wanted to share her beauty with him, and only him, for the rest of her life? He didn't think he was lucky enough for this moment to ever come, but now, here it was, and she was lovely, and he loved her, and he'd never wanted to kiss her more in his life, and she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and he could spend the rest of all time with her, and now, now he had to find some way to say the words that were swirling around in his mind.

💜•🧡•💜

 "You don't have to do this," Sabine thought, as she let go of Ezra's hands, "he likes you, you like him. Why risk vulnerability and commitment?"

 But as she looked at Ezra, she found she wanted commitment more than she'd ever imagined. She wanted him to know her face as intimately as she knew his, to see with his own two eyes who she really was, and for herself to look at him without her visor altering her perception.

 So, slowly, giving herself enough time to stop herself if she regretted it, she pulled her helmet off her head, for the first time in front of another life form since she'd put it on as a child, what felt like a lifetime ago. It felt vulnerable, and terrifying, but also freeing. She looked up at Ezra and smiled a little, wondering if he loved her face as much as he loved the rest of her— as much as she loved him.

 "Maybe this was a mistake," she thought, "maybe I should've just let him keep whatever version of me existed in his mind." She'd seen him flirt with lots of girls, back before they started dating, and none of them ever looked quite like her. What if, even without her armor, she still wasn't enough for him?

 But the smile that spread across his face said it all, and if not, enough words tumbled out at a parsec a minute to make up for the verbiage his expression could've lacked.

 "Why did you take off your helmet?" Ezra asked, and though anyone else could've left it at that question, the man she loved would never, and he followed it up with seventeen more. "how are you so pretty? I didn't know it was possible for someone to be so beautiful. Does this mean you want to spend forever with me, because I want to spend forever with you too? You're so pretty. I mean, that's not why I want to spend forever with you. I'd spend forever with you if I didn't get to see your face, but I'm so glad I get to see your face. You're literally the most beautiful person I've ever seen in my entire life; I want to kiss you so badly. I mean, not that I'm gonna kiss you, unless you want me to, I just, I've never seen someone so beautiful in my whole entire life. I just, I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you to be so beautiful, I mean, not that I wasn't expecting you to be so beautiful, but I couldn't've expected you to be so beautiful, but, holy kriff…"

 Sabine already had a hard enough time with Ezra complimenting her on things she was often praised for, like her abilities and talents, but now that he was complimenting her on her beauty— she didn't know what beauty was, and how was she supposed to know if she was beautiful? Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, and no one had beheld her before, especially not like this. As it was, she almost wished that she was still wearing her helmet, because she was blushing so hard it was almost embarrassing.

 This had to stop. At the rate Ezra was going, he could go on talking like this for another three hours without sign of slowing down.

 Though Ezra was the only boy she'd ever dated, she knew boys well enough to know they came with one handy special feature— there was a pretty easy way to shut them up, one she'd secretly been wanting to try since before they left Krownest. Somewhere in his rambled confessions, she'd heard the words, "I want to kiss you," and lucky for him, the feeling was mutual.

 Before his lips could get him into any more trouble, she took over for them, grabbing him by the shirt collar and sending his lips crashing into hers. It still took him a couple seconds to grasp what was happening and shut up— that's about when the whispered "holy kriff" at the end came in— but he quickly understood the assignment, and as his lips touched hers, his hand touched her face, something passionate and gentle and unfamiliar and overwhelming. No one had seen her face before, let alone touched it. And now, here was his hand, his fingers twirling on her cheek, his other hand on her neck, with his thumb stroking a soft spot behind her ear.

 She pulled away from him, all of it seeming too good to be true. But when she read the love and excitement in his shining blue eyes, she believed it herself.

 "I love you," she whispered.

 "I love you too," he whispered back.

 And now, she was absolutely certain that he meant it.

💜•🧡•💜

 A few months later, they were back on Krownest— not for war, or for reunion, but for a wedding. 

 Sabine had told Ezra that he didn't need to adapt to her customs, that if they forged him his own armor, he'd be making the same commitment to it she had, but he insisted on becoming part of her world. She'd painted his armor herself, colors custom chosen by them both, and repainted her own armor to match it. He'd started wearing the helmet right away, partly because it was better than the repurposed trooper helmet he'd been wearing, and partly because he wanted to get used to the weight of it, and partly because he enjoyed looking like he belonged here.

 But except for that and the left shoulder guard that he'd scarcely taken off since he got it, Ezra hadn't worn the rest of his armor until today, when they stood side by side in a private wedding ceremony they held on the Ghost. It was a small gathering, Sabine's family and the Spectres as the only guests in attendance, but the happy couple hardly even noticed them. The ceremony passed quickly, even for a Mandalorian one, which was always quick anyways.

 If you'd asked her later, Sabine wouldn't be able to tell you much from that day, except for Ezra, and how she could almost feel the look on his face as he said his vows to her, and how deeply they both meant it when they declared themselves one with each other, and how there'd never been a more precious keldabe kiss (or "bonk of endearment" as Ezra would often call it in his silly little way with words) than the one that followed that ceremony.

 And the most perfect moment of her life would come that night, when Ezra held her in his arms without a scrap of beskar coming between them, a pure, intimate, human connection, one that spoke of love, a love of their own, beyond either of their wildest dreams.

💜•🧡•💜

[kazoosandfannypacks]

summary: when ezra overhears sabine reciting a mandalorian custom, ezra regrets all the years he's missed out on. word count: 1K a/n: i came up with this fic during my mando'a studies. my goal is to someday write an entire fic in mando'a, complete with a work skin that'll include a mando'an font. that dream is still many years off though, but until then, here's a fic inspired by a little bit of manda-lore i've learned!   taglist:@laughingphoenixleader @accidental-spice @kanerallels @piraterefrigerator @jedi-nurse @dootchster @lucasbridger @redroverrider @light-umbra @commander-tech {if you’d like to be added to or removed from my Sabezra taglist, let me know!}

also on ao3!

Here For You Now

 It took Ezra a moment to figure out why he'd fallen asleep on the floor, less than a foot away from his bed. He would've totally assumed that he'd fallen off the bed in his sleep again (it was less than a foot's drop; he'd slept through it before,) but the pile of blankets underneath him told him this was definitely intentional. He couldn't quite piece together why he would've done something like this though— until he heard a murmured whisper coming from the bed, a voice he almost thought he was just imagining again, until he remembered that yesterday was the day he'd spent over a decade waiting for.

 Sabine had found him.

 And, since his trailer offered little in the way of comfort, he'd let Sabine take the bed and offered to sleep on the floor instead. Good hospitality, he'd called it, something he'd learned well from the Noti, and also a way to say "thank you" for coming all this way just to bring him home. (And in actuality, he'd never make his favorite person in this [and any] galaxy sleep on the floor— and also he knew he'd irreversibly stumble over his words if he suggested they try to share the bed.)

 But despite being on the floor and definitely sore from it, it was one of the best wakeups he'd had in years— certainly the one that ushered in the most hope along with it. 

Though he'd never lost faith in Sabine, hope had been in short supply the past year or so— that is, until yesterday, when the Noti had told him that they found a girl ("your girl," their language put it, and he was too ecstatic to disagree) and she'd come to the camp looking for him. He'd never thought she'd looked more beautiful than she did when she saw him, and gave him a smile that conveyed the same genuine joy and total disbelief he was feeling.

 And now he woke up knowing she was here, and it wasn't another stupid dream about her return: she was on Perida, actually with him, quietly chanting something in Mando'a.

 "Ni su'cuyi gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum."

 Ezra wasn't sure what she was mumbling about, but it felt almost like some kind of meditation, or a prayer. His interest was piqued when he heard the next two words, and he looked up to see her sitting cross legged with her eyes closed.

 "Kanan Jarrus. Ursa Wren. Alrich Wren. Tristan Wren. Ahsoka Tano. Ni su'cuyi gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum."

 Sabine sighed, and there was a moment of silence.

 "What's that?" Ezra asked, once he was sure she'd finished.

 "Ah-wha?" Sabine started, apparently not having known Ezra was even awake "it's nothing. Just an old Mandalorian tradition. I didn't mean to wake you up. Did you sleep alright?"

 "What kind of old Mandalorian tradition?" Ezra asked, completely disregarding her attempts to divert the conversation.

 "Nothing," Sabine shook her head.

 "Didn't seem like nothing to you."

 "Well, it's nothing that matters to you," Sabine said.

 "Everything you…" Ezra stopped mid-sentence, knowing that if he said "everything you say maters to me," she might start to think he had feelings for her— which he did, but he was pretty sure she still didn't feel the same way, and he didn't want to run the risk of scaring off his only ride back home. So, he switched trains of thought.

 "You mentioned Kanan," Ezra shook his head.

 Sabine looked at him, and in her eyes he saw the softness and pain she was trying all too well to hide. He smiled slightly, nodded slightly, raised his eyebrows slightly, tried to remind her with merely a look that her secrets were safe with him.

 Sabine sighed.

 "It's a remembrance," she offered, "'I am alive, but you are dead.'" she shook her head as she choked out the words, "'I remember you, so you are eternal.'"

 Ezra smiled a little at the sentiment, at keeping the memory of someone alive long after they're gone— but then he realized that the names of her family were included in that list.

 "You mentioned your family too," Ezra said, quietly, "Are they…?"

 Sabine nodded, "they're gone."

 "And Ahsoka?"

 "I think so," she said, the words petering out as a single breath.

 Ezra thought he saw a tear trickle down her cheek as she looked away from him. He didn't fight the urge to climb up onto the bed next to her and wrap an arm around her for comfort. He realized after he did so that he'd taken a gamble, and she was likely to be annoyed by his attempt to comfort her, so he was surprised when, instead of twisting away from him, she actually leaned closer, accepting the shoulder he gave her to cry on.

 "I'm so sorry, Sabine," Ezra whispered, with no idea what other words he could even offer.

 "There's nothing you could've done," Sabine said, "there's nothing anyone could've done."

 Ezra remembered thinking the same thing when the empire took his parents, that there was nothing anyone could've done to help him— but that didn't mean he didn't want anyone to.

 "I could've been there for you," Ezra shook his head, "I should've been there for you. Kriff, I've missed out on so much."

 Sabine lifted her head off his shoulder and looked up at him.

 "But I am here for you now," Ezra said, letting go of her and resting his hand on the bed behind her, "if you wanna talk about it at all."

 Sabine shook her head and looked away.

 "I don't wanna talk about it."

 "Alright," Ezra nodded, "is there anything I can do?"

 "Could you just sit here with me?" Sabine asked.

 "Absolutely," Ezra smiled.

 They treasured a moment's silence, before Sabine leaned a little closer, resting her head on his arm again. She glanced up at him as a smile crossed his face, and he rested his head on top of hers.

 Maybe he hadn't been there for her for the last few years. Maybe there were a lot of moments she'd needed him that he missed out on.

 But this moment? It wasn't going to be one of them— he was here for her now, and that's what mattered.

 And he wasn't going to stop being there for her ever again.

[kazoosandfannypacks]

summary: to boost morale, hera lets her crew pick out a treat when they make supply runs. as a former streetrat, ezra's used to going without food, and rather than pick up another box of crackers he won't eat, ezra decides on a much better plan for his treats. word count: 1.4k a/n: two of the best parts of christmas are giving gifts and eating cookies, so i decided to polish up this discord message i sent to @laughingphoenixleader and turn it into a fic to keep us in the holiday spirit this december! shoutout to the hilarious and encouraging @kanerallels for betaing! taglist: @laughingphoenixleader @accidental-spice @kanerallels @piraterefrigerator @jedi-nurse @dootchster @lucasbridger @redroverrider @light-umbra @commander-tech @jedimandalorian {if you’d like to be added to or removed from my Sabezra taglist, let me know!}

also on ao3!

The Molasses Mission

 Captain Syndulla recognizes that her crew isn't just soldiers or rebels or heroes. They're survivors. They're kids who had to grow up so fast, they never got the chance to be kids— and the youngest of them were kids even still.

 So she tries to find ways to let them have fun while still sticking it to the Empire, and one of them is to boost morale by letting them get treats. They don't get them very often, but sometimes, after a big mission, the ones that are hardest to complete but come with the most payoff, she lets them each pick one snack on the next supply run, a snack to be their own personal snack, one they don't have to share with anyone.

🍪•🍪•🍪

 Ezra Bridger grew up on the streets, and when you grow up on the streets, you don't refuse an offer for food— free food, all yours, something you wouldn't normally get yourself— so naturally Ezra's initially very excited when asked if he'd like a special treat on this week's supply run.

 The problem he runs into is when you grow up on the streets, and suddenly you find yourself with a crew that may as well be family, and as such cares about your health and general wellbeing, they're insistent on things like "eating at least two meals a day, if not three" and that's two more meals, if not three, than you were ever guaranteed on the streets. As such, Ezra's not really all that hungry these days. 

 So, the first few times this happens, he's ecstatic over his own personal snack, but pretty soon he realizes he's without the time to eat them, or he'll save them for a "special occasion" that just never comes, or he's just not even hungry, and he starts to feel bad that he's not eating them.

 That's when he gets an idea.

🍪•🍪•🍪

 Chopper doesn't like doing supply runs as is, but he especially doesn't like when Hera sends him with Ezra. The kid's constantly asking him what's on the list, he stops to chit-chat with all the merchants, and his haggling skills are not as great as he thinks. This would be so much faster if Hera would send him by himself— but, of course, the way this galaxy is run, an astromech can't make a supply run themselves, and once again he's forced to rely on these stupid organics.

 He protests when Ezra grabs a second box of Molasses Cookies. Today's supply run includes treats, but Sabine is the only member of the crew who eats them.

"One of the boxes is for me," Ezra explains, but Chopper protests. His memory banks aren't that erratic, and he distinctly remembers Ezra's vocal dislike of the cookies that "ought to be sweet instead of tasting like dirt" and "are too dry" and "should come with a warning label before being jam-packed with that many nuts."

 But, Ezra insists that that's his treat for the week, and frankly, Chopper couldn't care less. It was one less thing to have to track down here, and maybe Ezra's tastes have just changed.

 Organics could be weird like that.

🍪•🍪•🍪

Sabine had always been very protective of personal property. She didn't want anyone touching her weapons, her paints, or her food.

 Especially her food.

 Especially her molasses cookies. Everyone on The Ghost knew to stay more than a parsec away from her molasses cookies.

 Even still, she counted them every time she grabbed one out of the pack. If someone had taken one, it'd be a nice chance to let out the pent-up anger she had at the mere thought of someone eating her cookies.

 Which is why it was weird that, over the last week, every time she'd counted, she'd had exactly seven cookies left, despite eating one each time. At first, she thought she just miscounted, but soon she realized that, no, her cookies were somehow never running empty.

 She didn't ask questions— don't look a gift strill in the mouth, right?— even after she opened the box one day and found eight cookies. What could she possibly ask, anyways? "Who's been giving me more cookies?" Like some kind of crazy person? There was a war going on, she had more important things to worry about than how something good was happening to her for a change.

🍪•🍪•🍪

 It may as well just be a regular part of his Jedi practice now. Always staying on the alert for when Sabine was eating one of her cookies. Training himself to wake up in the middle of the night. Sneaking out of his room and into the galley with a cookie from his secret stash. Placing the cookie and getting back to his room. And the most important step, watching Sabine's reaction the next time she went for a cookie and found the same amount left.

 But what did not feel like a regular part of his training was what happened this time: finishing the job, turning around, and seeing Sabine sitting at the table, watching him.

 "SABINE!?" Ezra exclaimed, backing up against the counter behind him by instinct, then remembering the stealth part of these missions and lowering his tone, "it's not what it looks like! I mean maybe it is what it looks like, if it looks like what it is, but, uh... what are you doing, anyway? Do you normally wait up in the galley to scare unsuspecting spectres? Huh, that was fun to say."

 "Let's just say my curiosity got the better of me." Sabine stood up and walked over to him, "After all, what is it they say back on Lothal? 'Curiosity catches the Loth Cat?' And it looks like," she pointed an accusatory finger at Ezra, poking him in the chest as she stepped forward, "that's exactly what I just caught."

 "Uh," Ezra said, and even though he thought Sabine might be a little upset, he also noticed how lovely she looked in the low lighting of the galley, which actually made him all the more nervous, "technically, I think the phrase is curiosity killed the Loth Cat. You're not, uh, planning to...."

 "Of course not," Sabine said, and there was a bit of a laugh in her tone, "I just wanted to know."

 "Well," Ezra shrugged, "now you know."

 "No," Sabine said, "I know who, not why. What's your angle?"

 "Angle?" Ezra asked.

 "Was this an attempt to bribe me or something?" Sabine asked.

 "If I wanted to bribe you," Ezra asked, "don't you think I would've let you know it was me?"

 Sabine nodded. "Not even you are that stupid."

 "Right," Ezra said, "I just. I'm still trying to finish my second box of Loth-Crackers, so on the last supply run, I grabbed a box of cookies instead, and gave myself this secret mission to sneak them in here— Jedi practice, that's all."

 "That's all?"

 "Yeah," Ezra's feet shuffled, "That, and I noticed how happy you always are over something as small as cookies, and I, I don't know. It's the only time you smile unless something's blowing up, and I, I don't know…."

 As he'd been talking, Sabine had turned and stood next to him, leaning against the same countertop. He turned to look at her, and noticed a bittersweet expression, and thought it might be wise to stop talking and start listening. After a moment, his listening finally paid off, and Sabine spoke up.

 "Uj'alayi."

 "What?"

 "Uj'alayi," she crossed her arms, though not gruffly, "one of my favorite cakes. When I was little, my dad would make it for us for special occasions. I haven't had it since before...."

 Sabine shook her head, and Ezra nodded for her to continue.

 "It's a secret Mandalorian recipe," she explained, "those molasses cookies don't hold a candle to it, but it's the closest you can get when you're... when you don't know the recipe. Taking a bite of one is like...." she smiled a little and shook her head again.

 Sabine had never said this much to him in one conversation, but Ezra didn't want her to stop. He wanted to keep hearing more about her, getting to know her more, but realized she'd closed herself off again, and respected that.

 "That's," Ezra shrugged, "thank you for sharing."

 "Thank you," Sabine said.

 Much to Ezra's surprise, she wrapped an arm around him in a hug, so quick it was done and over before Ezra even realized it's happened, though he could still feel its lingering warmth, even as she said goodnight and left the galley.

 Ezra watched the smile on her face as long as he could as she left, then smiled to himself in return as he tucked her box of cookies back where they belonged in the pantry and whispered, "best mission ever."

🍪•🍪•🍪

[kazoosandfannypacks]

summary:   Waking up was getting harder and harder, no matter how suddenly it came. How long had Sabine been asleep this time? One hour? Two?  Nope.  She quickly found that it had only been ten minutes this time.  "She didn't know how many more nights she could spend like this, her dreams haunted by what she'd lost, and her waking hours spent replaying how she lost it— how she lost him." word count: 1.5K a/n: this one's one of those "i have a line of dialogue how can i write this into a fic?" scenarios. i hope you guys like it! taglist:@laughingphoenixleader @accidental-spice @kanerallels @piraterefrigerator @jedi-nurse @dootchster @lucasbridger @redroverrider @light-umbra @commander-tech {if you’d like to be added to or removed from my Sabezra taglist, let me know!}

also on ao3!

How Much You Have

 There was something almost weightless about Sabine's painting session today. Maybe it was how lost she was in the picture itself. Maybe it was the lightness of the colors clouding out of her airbrushes. Maybe….

 "Is it almost done?" Ezra asked.

 Sabine looked back down at Ezra, who was concentrating very hard on keeping her suspended in midair with the Force.

 Which probably explained the weightlessness.

 "Almost!" Sabine called down, "thanks for helping."

 "No problem!" Ezra said.

 Sabine added the finishing touches of some clouds to her mural on the side of the building. It wasn't every day that she got paid to graffiti something.

 "That should be the last of it," Sabine said, "you can bring me down!"

 She added one last calculated splotch of color as Ezra pulled her back down. Her descent started out slowly, then came all at once, and ended with her falling right into Ezra's arms.

 "Nice catch," Sabine said.

 "I like to think so," Ezra raised an eyebrow.

 "Hey," Sabine said, as he set her back down on the ground.

 "What?" Ezra asked.

 "You know perfectly well," Sabine said, packing up her supplies that were scattered across the ground, "If I recall, you agreed to stop flirting with me three rotations ago."

 "Technically, I agreed we wouldn't flirt with each other," Ezra said, "I'm not breaking the terms unless you reciprocate."

 "Why do you think I stopped you?" Sabine thought, but didn't say.

 Why didn't she say it?

 Instead, she glared up at him.

 "Sorry," Ezra said.

 "Apology accepted," Sabine said, handing him the case of paint supplies as she got up, "now, let's get back to The Ghost. Supper must be almost ready by now."

 "Don't have to tell me twice," Ezra said, "race ya!"

 "You're on!" Sabine called, and ran after him, through the city and to the outskirts where the ship was waiting for them.

 As they neared The Ghost, Sabine found herself growing slower and slower, until eventually Ezra was far ahead of her, and started to fade from view entirely, along with everything else around them, fading into nothing once again.

———

 Waking up was getting harder and harder, no matter how suddenly it came. How long had Sabine been asleep this time? One hour? Two?

 Nope.

 She quickly found that it had only been ten minutes this time.

 She didn't know how many more nights she could spend like this, her dreams haunted by what she'd lost, and her waking hours spent replaying how she lost it— how she lost him.

 "Why'd he have to do such a kriffing stupid thing like that anyway?" Sabine muttered for the hundredth time since last week.

 She checked the time again. At least it was late enough now that no one else was awake. This wasn't her first run-in with insomnia, and in previous lapses, she'd found some warm milk never hurt.

 She slipped out of bed as quietly as she could, the cold of the floor sending a wakeful shock right through her. She braced herself for her next step, and found it came a little easier, and the next after that, and then made her way out of her room.

 "It's a good thing Zeb snores so loud," Sabine thought, as she slipped out the door and past the boys' room, "otherwise Ezra might hear…"

 Sabine froze in her tracks and reminded herself of the harsh reality.

 Ezra couldn't hear her.

 She didn't have to worry about waking up Ezra with her midnight milk raids anymore. She didn't have to worry about him asking her what was wrong and trying to comfort her. She didn't have to worry about running into Ezra at all anymore.

 Why had that ever been a worry?

 She would give anything to run into him again.

 But instead, when she entered the galley, she ran into someone else. Sitting at the table was Hera, clutching onto a cup like it was the last thread of her sanity.

 "Sabine?" Hera asked, before she had a chance to backpedal out of there, "what are you doing up?'

 "I could ask you the same question," Sabine replied. Since she was already caught awake anyways, she may as well get what she came here for, and headed over to the pantry to find some of that shelf-stable milk they always seemed to have on hand.

 "I haven't been sleeping much recently," Hera offered.

 Sabine poured herself a mug of the milk and put it in the nanowave.

 "Seems to be a lot of that going around," she said.

 There was a moment of silence until Sabine stopped the nanowave, just seconds before it beeped. She took the mug out and found herself, instead of bringing her drink back to her room, taking a seat across from Hera.

 So much had happened in the last month, and every step forward cost great sacrifice— so it went without saying why sleep had been lacking for them both.

 And why would they need to say anything anyways? Did either woman have words enough to console herself? And how could they offer that encouragement to each other?

 Silence.

 That was what they needed.

 Just a moment's silence spent with each other, understanding each other, that was all.

 And after that moment ended? After that sweet unspoken connection? Then Hera tacked on what she was really thinking.

 "I miss them so much," Hera sighed.

 "Me too," Sabine choked out.

 Hera gave her a weak smile.

 "I take it you haven't slept well since…" Sabine started.

 "No," Hera said, "the first few nights were rough. There was so much I never told Kanan," and his name came out almost like a prayer, "but I got by. I started thinking about everything he worked for— this crew, the Rebellion, Ezra…."

 Sabine bit her lip and nodded for Hera to continue.

 "It was easier when Ezra was here," Hera explained, "I know it'd be crazy to say Ezra takes after him, but in a lot of ways, he does. Having Ezra, seeing how Kanan's training had shaped him— it was like a part of Kanan was still with me."

 "I know," Sabine said, and maybe she would've said more if the very thought of her potential words didn't already start to bring tears to her eyes. She reached for her half-empty mug of milk, hoping that she could hide it, but found herself unable to even try to pick up the mug with how much her hand was shaking.

 Hera reached across the table and touched Sabine's wrist. Normally, Sabine would've pulled away, but something in Hera's motherly gesture grounded her back into reality.

 She looked up at Hera, who seemed to read Sabine with just a knowing gaze.

 "You miss Ezra?" Hera asked.

 That was it. Just three words. They could mean anything. They could mean the crew wasn't complete without him. They could mean he was the greatest friend she'd ever had, and now she didn't have him anymore. They could mean there were so many questions she didn't get the chance to ask him. They could mean that she missed how his sense of humor could brighten her hard days, and how he'd somehow always known the right thing to say while still never knowing the right thing to say, and that a part of her still needed him in her life. Those three simple words could even mean "did you love him?"

 But whatever those three words were meant to ask, Sabine knew the answer was "yes," and with that one word response came the breaking of a dam behind her eyes, and an onset deluge of tears.

 Sabine hadn't cried in front of Hera in ages— she hadn't cried in front of anyone in a long time— but Hera responded wisely, the only way she could. She got up. She walked around the table. She sat next to Sabine. She put an arm around her.

 And Sabine let herself cry for a moment there. If she hadn't been so distraught, she would've thought it was weird and embarrassing and would've left immediately, but all she could see right now was her grief, and that Hera was someone who understood.

 "There's so much I never told him," Sabine said, once she'd stopped crying. She let her words come out sharply instead of softly, hoping her anger would cauterize the tears, "so many questions."

 "I know," Hera said, "oh, I know."

 "Sometimes I have dreams," Sabine shook her head and pulled away from Hera a little, drying her cheeks with her sleeves, "dreams where everything's okay— where he's here, and we're happy, and I'm even being mean to him because I don't even think I could ever lose him."

 "You don't know how much you have until you've lost it," Hera shook her head, "you don't realize how precious every moment is."

 "Yeah," Sabine said, "makes you look at everything differently.

 "Yeah," Hera said.

 Sabine looked up at Hera and smiled a little for the first time in days.

 "Hera?" Sabine said.

 "Yeah?"

 "Thank you."

 "For what?"

 "I don't know," Sabine said, "I just know tomorrow's not guaranteed anymore, and I want you to know. I appreciate you a lot, and I'm glad I joined your crew."

 "I know," Hera nodded and smiled a little, with a hint of pride, "and Sabine?"

 "Yeah?"

 "I love you too."

[kazoosandfannypacks]

summary: in a timeline where ezra didn't sacrifice himself at the end of rebels, and he and sabine were married shortly after the empire fell, they now celebrate their first life day together as a married couple. for sabezra life day week, day two: songfic. word count: 1.3K a/n: it wouldn't be christmas in my family without a little steven curtis chapman, so when i saw songfic was one of the prompts for sabezra life day, i decided to do a little fic based on the first verse of one of my favorites of his christmas songs, "christmas is all in the heart." also this fic never says one way or the other whether or not kanan lives in this au, so you have free reign to decide on that one! you're welcome! taglist: @laughingphoenixleader @accidental-spice @kanerallels @piraterefrigerator @jedi-nurse @dootchster @lucasbridger @redroverrider @light-umbra @commander-tech @sabezra-life-day-celebration {if you’d like to be added to or removed from my Sabezra taglist, let me know!} also on ao3!

Life Day is All in the Heart

 In a one bedroom comm tower, on the outskirts of Lothal, there stood a little Life Day tree, so small and cheaply decorated it could hardly be called that— and underneath it was one little gift for him and one little gift for her.

 Sabine and Ezra sat on the floor next to the life day tree, snuggled together on a pile of blankets. Ezra could feel his heart warm as he pulled Sabine closer, as her head rested on his chest and her arms wrapped tightly around him.

 Six years ago, he'd had three goals in life—free Lothal, defeat the Empire, and maybe somehow earn Sabine's affections. At the time, it all seemed almost impossible, but now all of it had become reality. Lothal was free, the Empire was no more, and somehow along the way Sabine had fallen for him, almost as deeply as he'd fallen for her. They'd gotten married shortly after the war. Less than a month later, they found themselves celebrating their first Life Day together, and it couldn't be more perfect.

 Sure, in the way of decorations, there was nothing there to catch your eye. There were no twinkling lights or bright red bows, and there were hardly any colorful spheres on the poor excuse for a tree. Between the wedding, and crazy preparations and celebrations for the holiday as well as their duties to the New Republic, they'd hardly had the time to finish moving in, let alone decorate for Life Day. Instead of dozens of brightly wrapped packages, there were dozens of boxes they'd yet to unpack from their move. Instead of a huge feast, they'd made a meal of some quickly thrown together sandwiches. They'd still planned on meeting with friends and family the next day, but tonight, on Life Day's Eve, all they had was each other.

 And Ezra and the new Mrs. Bridger couldn't be happier. He looked down at her and stroked her cheek, and she looked up at him and smiled, in that perfect, loving way that made Ezra fall for her all over again every single time.

 "Wow," Ezra whispered.

 "What?" Sabine asked.

 Ezra shook his head, hoping his heavy breath might carry some words with it. "I'm just... it's all so perfect."

 "What is?" Sabine smiled, and though she clearly already knew, Ezra continued anyways.

 "Everything," he said, "you and me— you and me— who could've seen that coming?"

 "Certainly not me," she chuckled, then reached up and stroked his cheek, her fingers lovingly tracing a familiar path alongside his scars.

 He took her hand in his and squeezed it.

 "I think it's time for your Life Day present," Ezra said. With his other hand, he used the force to pick up Sabine's present from under the tree and set it down in her lap.

 "Don't most people wait until the morning?" Sabine asked.

 Ezra had been holding onto his present for too long to wait much longer, surprised that he hadn't blurted it out already.

 "Tomorrow we'll have to leave early if we wanna rendezvous with The Ghost on time," Ezra defended, "may as well exchange gifts while we're not rushed."

 "You also really can't wait to see what I got you?" Sabine asked, with a raised eyebrow.

 "Maybe a little," Ezra laughed, "but I'm more excited to see you open my gift."

 "In that case, maybe you should open mine first," Sabine teased, "build the suspense."

 Ezra smiled. "As you wish."

 He force-floated Sabine's gift to himself, a cube shaped box that fit in the palm of his hand.

 Sabine let go of Ezra's hand and sat up so she could get a better view of Ezra opening his gift, resting her head on his shoulder.

 Ezra, of course, decided to have a little fun with it. He closed his eyes and concentrated, floating the box in the air and carefully and neatly removing the wrapping.

 "Most people would just unwrap it with their hands, Jedi boy," Sabine said.

 "Ah," Ezra said, letting the half unwrapped package fall into his right hand, "but then how could I do this?" He took her hand again in his left hand, watched her predictable but still beautiful smile, then floated the package back up above his right, "besides, I've opened holocrons. Unwrapping a Life Day present is a piece of...."

 His words stopped dead in his mouth as the wrapping fell away, and he found himself staring at a strange but familiar chunk of metal. Before he had a chance to ask what it was, he caught it in his right hand, and a memory came flooding back to him— of his parents sending out a message of hope on a Life Day that seemed as though a lifetime ago.

 "This belonged to my father," Ezra said, "it was part of their broadcast equipment. How did you...?"

 "I wasn't sure what to get for you," Sabine explained, "what could I possibly get for someone who has everything he's ever wanted and would probably cry tears of joy if I gave him a rock I found on the ground?"

 Ezra would've defended himself, but that sounded pretty accurate, so he let her continue.

 "But then I started thinking," Sabine said, "and I remembered the first present I ever got you."

 "The holodisc with my family photo," Ezra said, with a smile like he was poorly hiding something.

 "Yeah," Sabine nodded, "so I went back to see if I could find anything else at your old place. I don't know if this is worth that much to you, but I know it belonged to your parents," and she pointed at one corner of the almost-spherical metal, "and this end of it? It's hooked, like the decorations on the Life Day tree. I thought, if we hung it up it would be like your family's always with us to celebrate."

 Ezra smiled and ran his thumb along the gift. How could something so small and simple be so big, and so deep, and show how much Sabine truly knew him?

 "But if you don't like it...." Sabine started, but Ezra wouldn't hear it.

 "I love it," Ezra said, floating it to the one empty branch of their little tree, "thank you so much, Sabine."

 He stroked her cheek with his now-free hand, then pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head.

 "Your turn," he whispered, "open mine."

 Sabine let go of his hand, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder as she unwrapped the package in her lap. Inside, she found a small holoprojector.

 "What's this?" Sabine asked.

 "Why don't you press play and find out?"

 She turned it on, and a holo of them as teenagers started playing, one where they were sparring with each other, and Sabine was winning.

 "I know it's not much," Ezra said, as a clip played of them both laughing together, Sabine laughing so hard that milk came out of her nose, "but I don't want to lose a single moment with you. Chopper and I uploaded it with footage he had— he records us a lot more than we realize— but there's a lot of space on here for new memories too, if we ever want to record them."

 "Wow," Sabine said.

 "I know," Ezra said, "it's not much."

 "It's great," Sabine said, giggling as she watched a clip of Ezra leaning against a cart that he was unaware had wheels, "I love it."

 Ezra smiled, proud to have done something to make her happy.

 Sabine leaned closer to him, her whispered breaths warm against his cheek, "and I love you."

 "I love you too," Ezra whispered, turning his head to hers enough that their foreheads gently pressed against each other.

 "Happy life day, Ezra Bidger," Sabine whispered.

 "Happy life day, Sabine," Ezra smiled, "Bridger."

 Sabine smiled, then leaned forward, pressing her lips into his in a delicate kiss he was more than eager to reciprocate.

 For Ezra and Sabine, Life Day wasn't anything big or fancy. They might not have had all the trimmings or trappings or whatever most people would consider "essentials" for the holiday.

 But both of them would've been the first to say that they were together— and they had the happiest Life Day anyway.

[kazoosandfannypacks]

summary: 

 "Of all the mindless, idiotic, pointless, senseless, half-brained, dim-witted, bone-headed, just downright stupid things that Ezra had done in the last seven years since Sabine met him, this one was the biggest one.

 It would've been okay if he'd just not told her how he felt. She didn't mind the mixed signals when he even told her it was okay with him if she went out with Tarik. 

 But then, for whatever reason, Ezra had somehow convinced himself it was a good idea to show up at the restaurant with arm candy of his own— one of the catty Togruta sisters who was more than excited for a "front row seat to the Rebellion's second favorite 'will they/won't they.'"

 Sabine's own date had been stupid enough to let them make it a double date— and that stupidity combined with Ezra's own was a recipe for disaster."

and the argument that follows in its aftermath.

word count: 1.6K

a/n: my mom's been rewatching the jonas brothers tv show, and the first season is one of my silly little comfort shows, so i've enjoyed joining her for it when i can. a couple weeks ago while watching an episode, i heard the dialogue "what about a guy NOT asking a girl out because he likes her, huh? have you EVER stopped to consider that?" "that makes LITERALLY NO SENSE!" and i couldn't help but think of sabezra, so decided to make a oneshot based on this episode. most of the initial dialogue and actions is pulled from the show directly, but everything past sabine's "i see your point," is kazzy original material because the rest didn't give enough closure for a oneshot.

takes place post canon in an au where ezra did not get purrgiled. shoutout to @kanerallels, as always, for betaing! also, huge shoutout to @jessicas-pi for letting me borrow a couple of her ocs! you can read more about them in her absolute masterpiece of a story, commit to the bit!

taglist:@laughingphoenixleader  @accidental-spice @kanerallels @piraterefrigerator @jedi-nurse @dootchster @lucasbridger  @redroverrider @light-umbra @commander-tech {if you’d like to be added to or removed from my Sabezra taglist, let me know!}

also on ao3!

We Gotta Work This Out

 Of all the mindless, idiotic, pointless, senseless, half-brained, dim-witted, bone-headed, just downright stupid things that Ezra had done in the last seven years since Sabine met him, this one was the biggest one.

 "If he didn't want me to go out with Tarik, he could've just said something, instead of butting into my social life like that," Sabine thought, fists clenched as she paced around The Ghost, "and if he wanted to be part of my social life, he should just say it."

 The past few months, Ezra had let hints of his feelings for her drop on more than one occasion, and she hadn't exactly been subtle about how she felt either. And yet, Ezra hadn't asked her out yet, and Tarik had, so of course, she'd said yes. She couldn't wait around forever just for Ezra to not say anything at all.

 It would've been okay if he'd just not told her how he felt. She didn't mind the mixed signals when he even told her it was okay with him if she went out with Tarik. 

 But then, for whatever reason, Ezra had somehow convinced himself it was a good idea to show up at the restaurant with arm candy of his own— one of the catty Togruta sisters who was more than excited for a "front row seat to the Rebellion's second favorite 'will they/won't they.'"

 Sabine's own date had been stupid enough to let them make it a double date— and that stupidity combined with Ezra's own was a recipe for disaster.

 Predictably, the romantic evening had fallen apart like a cheap ration bar. It started small, with a few clever and cutting remarks between Sabine and Ezra, but it ended with what would've been a not-so-friendly sparring match, if Am-Lee hadn't defused by asking them to pause so the holo of the moment she took for her gossip chain didn't turn out blurry. But instead of giving Ezra the butt-whooping he deserved, Sabine then took the high ground and told Tarik to take her home immediately.

 Unfortunately for both of them, home for Sabine didn't actually get her any further from Ezra, and as soon as he'd dropped off his date and returned to The Ghost, Sabine was waiting for him, arms crossed, not even having taken the time to change out of the dress she'd worn for her date.

 "What's up?" Ezra shrugged, using a casual saunter to hide how steamed up he still was.

 "'What's up?'" Sabine scoffed, "like you don't know 'what's up?' I don't understand how you could be so conceited, and selfish, and just thoughtless."

 "Yeah?" Ezra responded in kind, as though well prepared for her harsh words, "well, you are stuck-up, pretentious, and totally gorgeous."

 No insult he could've said would've thrown her off more than that last word.

 "Gorgeous?" Sabine asked.

 "What?" Ezra scowled.

 "You just said I was gorgeous," Sabine shook her head.

 "I meant adorable," Ezra poorly tried to cover, "so adorable you make me sick!"

 "I'm sorry," Sabine said, but by the end of her comment she was almost yelling, generations of Mandalorian rage flowing through her, "but if I'm so 'sickeningly adorable,' then why'd you come to the restaurant tonight?"

 Ezra changed the subject, his tone revealing that he was not a fan of that question.

 "Well, why did you go out with Tarik?"

 "Because he asked me!" Sabine was really yelling now, almost wondering why she'd fallen for someone dumb enough to even ask a question like that. "Isn't that how it works, Ezra? A guy asks out a girl because he likes her?"

 "Because if that's how it works," Sabine thought, fist clenched, "then it's quite clear how Ezra feels about me."

 "What about a guy not asking out a girl because he likes her, huh?" Ezra retorted, as if it were the most obvious and logical comeback in the galaxy and not a strong contender for dumbest thing he'd ever said. "Have you ever thought about that?"

 He walked past her, but she wasn't about to let him leave her before she figured out what his comment was even supposed to mean. She turned around and found he had stopped and turned back as well, and was looking at her.

 "What?" she asked, blood still boiling, wondering if she'd get clarification or just further confirmation of his stupidity.

 "I don't wanna risk everything you and me don't have together!" Ezra snapped.

 "That makes absolutely no sense!" Sabine snapped back.

 "Yeah? Well sometimes things don't make sense!"

 She tried to argue, but in the heat of the argument, she hadn't noticed the sudden heat of him putting his hand on her neck and pulling her close to him. Before she knew what was happening, their lips made their first meeting, and somehow, it was a beautiful one.

 Sabine wasn't sure how to respond to this— holy kriff, it was a kiss, he was kissing her— to this kiss. Her instincts told her to punch him in the gut, but her heart said to pull him closer, because she'd been waiting a long time for this.

 But she didn't have a chance to do either before he pulled away, and she breathed out in response a heavy, "oh."

 Because as upset as she was at Ezra, he'd just absolutely floored her. As much as she couldn't stand him right now, she'd really enjoyed that. As much as she wanted to claim she never wanted to see him again, she knew what she really wanted was to kiss him again.

 Ezra was right. Sometimes things just don't make sense.

 "I see your point," she nodded, looking away from him, still trying to process what had just happened, and not needing Ezra's stupid pretty face clouding her judgment.

 His kiss was reckless and impulsive and thoughtless and, once again, in true Ezra fashion, a downright stupid thing to do. Was this his idea of telling her how he felt? Or just a cheap attempt at shutting her up?

 Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his lips parted in some breathless, awestruck smile, then noticed that his eyes rested on her.

 "Why did you do that?" Sabine asked.

 "I don't know," Ezra shook his head.

 "You do," Sabine turned back to him.

 "You're right," Ezra nodded, slowly, "and I think you know too."

 Sabine bit her lip and nodded, then shook her head. After all the stupid things he'd done that day, he owed her, at the very least, the explanation they both knew was true.

 "I need to hear you say it," she said.

 She read the fear in his eyes. He had no way of knowing for sure she felt the same way. He could be risking seven years of friendship on an emotional whim— though, with everything that had already happened that day, it would be hard either way to salvage any semblance of the friendship they'd once had.

 He opened his mouth as though to speak, then closed it and shook his head.

 "That's what I thought," Sabine thought, shaking her head, turning away from him, walking away from him, "if he can't tell me how he really feels..."

 "I'm in love with you."

 Sabine stopped dead in her tracks. Had Ezra really just said what she thought he said?

 She turned halfway around, then turned her head a little further to face him, then shook her head in disbelief.

 "What?" she asked.

 "I love you," Ezra said, breathing heavily with fear, "that's why I did— all of that. I love you."

 Sabine smiled, then bit her lip, then took a couple steps closer to him.

 "You really mean that?" she asked.

 "Yeah," Ezra said, and his tone and the look in his eyes turned a casual word into a wholehearted declaration of love.

 Sabine stepped closer to him, and from the look in his eyes, she knew he had no idea how she'd respond.

 Which meant he didn't see it coming at all when she reached for his neck, pulled him closer, and planted her lips back on his. She placed her other hand on his shoulder, and as soon as Ezra realized what was happening, his hands were on her sides. 

 It was the kind of kiss that made all the years of waiting for it totally worth it. She heard him sigh, and felt his lips curve into a smile, and hers did the same, and it was the best kriffing moment of her life.

 They didn't pull their lips away from each other until all of that frustration and rage and anger had sunk away, leaving in their place just a carefree joy at each other's mere presence. Even still, his hands didn't leave her sides, and hers didn't leave his shoulder— though now her other hand had slid up to his face, her thumb now softly stroking the scars on his cheek.

 "Now, why did you do that?" Ezra asked, a playful look in his eyes and a smitten smile on his lips.

 "I think you know why," Sabine whispered, biting her lip to keep from smiling too much.

 "I need to hear you say it," Ezra smiled, and he teasingly brushed his nose against hers.

 She sighed, almost like a laugh, and looked deep into his eyes.

 "Because I love you too," she whispered.

 He smiled shyly, letting go of one hand's grip on her side so he could cradle the back of her neck instead.

 She closed her eyes and actually giggled a little, then pressed her forehead lovingly against his.

 Maybe he was still downright stupid sometimes— but hey, she was too. Maybe she still had a lot to learn about how love works— but hey, he did too.

 And now they could work it out together.

[kazoosandfannypacks]

🖋️ #kazzy writes masterpost

original wip sideblog | all drabbles | all fanfics also on ao3

fanfictions:

🦢 captain swan oneshots | it now belongs to you | wishing it wasn't | open to interpretation

📖 beauty and the puppet oneshots | road less traveled

📜 cygnet scholar oneshots

🧡 sabezra oneshots | how we rewrote the stars | scrhsapkolb(ncb!!!!!)

📚 other oneshots: the shuttle | milo murphy's law | percy jackson | ducktales | evil hand in the big castle