#porg answers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dailyreverie · 1 year ago

Text

We fell in love at the end of the world

Part of the Your Wish is my Command universe

A/N: ...well this took a while didn't it? To makeup for it here's a long-ass update with like a thousand taylor swift song references because that has been my personality for the past two months. Title comes from the song with the same name by "Hozier" (Give it a listen because it has huge Poe vibes)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader (fem.)

Word Count: 3.9k words

CW: A lot of feelings. Bar setting, alcohol and drunk people mentions, reader drinks alcohol, s3x mentions.

SERIES MASTERLIST

There were so many factors of why you couldn’t be with Poe that you didn’t even know where to start enlisting them. The heart-crushing feelings you had for him were becoming unmanageable; you couldn’t look at him, couldn’t speak to him, couldn’t think of him without feeling your limbs and organs moving in a giddy flutter, so you did the only thing you could do: avoid him at all costs.

It’s hard to do so, ignore your favorite person in the whole galaxy, but maybe if you did for a few weeks you could get over all those feelings… right? And yes, it’s hard to do so, even more so when you are summoned to a briefing only to find him going in at the same time.

“Hey!” Poe sounded happy when he saw you, relieved even, his features even lighting up when he looked at you after taking a double look. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Poe!” Damn you, Dameron, was all you wanted to say when his arms opened to greet you with a bone-crushing hug. “You know how this gets…” Your vague answer made his smile turn into a tucked-lip grin, almost as if he were disappointed by your answer.

“I know,” was all he said. “So are we both in trouble, or are we going on the same mission?” Being in trouble sounded like the better option. You couldn’t know, but Poe thought so too.

An infiltrated spy in the government had reached all the way to the Resistance, and of course, in order to give away more information, the spy needed an in-person meeting. Even knowing that, when the General told you who was assigned to the mission, that news alone terrified you more than the actual meeting.

“I’m sending you two”. You couldn’t know who was more nervous about it, you, or Poe, who kept looking at you without really knowing what to say. Your blood turned cold in your veins. You looked at Poe as he looked at you, and you both turned to look at the General. “Why?” You asked, trying to remain as cool as possible even though you felt like your knees could give up on you at any moment. You failed, clearly, since your own mother looked at you stranged at your uneasy tone. “I mean… why send two people? Isn’t this a- uhm- one-person job?” You saved yourself quickly while looking at Poe, who seemed like a lost porg with wide eyes avoiding yours.

She glared at you as if she knew more about you than you did - and she probably did. “I’m sending you because they are expecting an Organa, and I’m sending Poe as your protection.”

The General walked past you, leaving no room for protesting. All Poe did when you exchanged a look was shrug.

“Protection?” You asked after a beat, once the General had walked past you, and from the look on her face, you may have asked a bit too harshly. Poe looked down, hiding a hurt smile that twisted your insides from guilt. “What I mean is- You don’t have to send your best pilot to this mission, I can handle it on my own. It’s just intel, after all.”

“Well, then…” Leia looked between the two of you; you with your panicked eyes hiding a thousand feelings, and Poe a couple of steps behind, uncharacteristically quiet, watching it all unfold. “...then consider this a fun friend getaway, in which your friend is also there for your safety.” She patted your arm and left the room.

“Hey!” Poe called you as you began to walk outside, and as you stopped and turned around, facing each other and waiting for him to speak, you got a glimpse of the hurt from before mixed with something else, something warm; right there, all over his eyes, you remembered why you couldn’t be sent alone with him. “Are you okay?” Was all he said.

“Yeah.” You said almost instantly. “Why wouldn’t I be?” A chuckle came right after.

“You seemed a bit… I don’t know.” His voice turned to a quiet whisper at the last words, as if he were questioning his own self. “Are we good?” He sounded hurt, and you hated yourself. A nod was all you could do without giving away your almost exploding feelings.

“We’re good.” You confirmed. It wasn’t his fault, he didn't deserve to be ignored by his best friend.

Poe nodded back, convincing himself about it. “I thought you were avoiding me, I just- I wanted to make sure we were good.”

Damn. Damn him and his perceptive, smart, beautiful, brain.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I would never avoid you.” You smiled, with an apology between the lines that you hoped he would get, but a real smile after all. You can’t be away from him, it doesn’t matter how hard you try.

“Well, then I should get some rest. Can’t be easy being your personal security, I have to be well-rested.” You pushed his shoulder, scoffing at his dumb joke. You felt almost relieved to be back to laughing with him, not realizing how torturous the past couple of weeks of avoiding him had really affected you. “I’ll see you in the morning, Lieutenant.” He shouted as he turned his back to you, finally, letting you break into the enormous smile you couldn’t contain anymore.

It was going to be a hard mission.

******

In another life, this would have been the most beautiful trip. You arrived well into the afternoon, with a smooth flight with Poe as your pilot soaring you amongst the clouds of the waterfall-filled moon you were sent to. Poe and you were back to being your ridiculous selves with each other, making the job of not falling anymore for him harder.

You laughed together at Poe’s dumb comments and jokes about being your bodyguard, walking side by side along the streets lined up with stone walls that paved the way to your secret meeting. “I need you to stop looking at me, ma'am, you can’t be distracting your security guy on times like this.” He faked a deep, serious voice, failing miserably at it since his lips kept turning upwards at the sound of your laughter.

“Shut your mouth, Dameron.” You rolled your eyes, but in all honesty, you couldn’t stop looking at him. You had to lay low for the meeting, no uniforms or clothes that could give away who you were, and Poe’s choice of clothing had you mesmerized since the moment you saw him before take-off; with his hair pushed back and his relaxed white shirt that hung loosely from his shoulders while still showing the built frame that the pilot suit usually hid, you were having a hard time to focus on what had to be done. Not that it was any easy for him either, since what you had modestly called a disguise happened to show your body in a way that was giving Poe a hard time to even turn the engine of the ship on.

Sure, you were there to see a potential spy and anyone could come around the corner and attack you, but for a few hours you felt like you could forget about all that; for a few hours, it didn’t seem like you were falling in love in the middle of a war.

Meeting the spy was anything a meeting with a spy could be, or so you thought, since you had never done it by yourself before. As soon as you reached the cantina he mentioned you spotted the guy, immediately tensing as a sharp breath came in through your nose. The realization of why you were there came upon you then, when you saw the blaster hanging so freely by the guy’s hip. Thank the Maker your mother insisted on sending Poe with you, who so gently reached for your hand and squeezed it gently. “I’ll be right beside you, I got you” he whispered, nudging his head towards where he was already holding his blaster by his hips.

You were spotted and greeted with an acknowledging head tilt and a hand urging you to reach the table. “I was expecting the General, not some kid and a flyboy playing war.” His voice was a whisper, yet you could still hear the raspiness of it, one that came with the age his graying hair and experienced eyes showed.

“The General has more important matters than meeting a self-acclaimed spy.” Your reply made Poe hide a proud smile with a bite on his own cheek.

“You talk just like her.” He asked, knowing quite well who you were. “Little Solo, aren’t you?”

“Are you giving us what we came for or should we just tell the General we wasted our time?”

“No!” He said in an instant. “I can’t say much, but everything you need to know is here,” he placed a drive on the table that Poe quickly went for, examining it before putting it in his pocket.

“What’s in it?” Poe asked urgently.

“Mission logs. Everything you need to know about their locations, positions, and next attacks.” He stood up then, looking at both you and Poe with the surprised look on your faces.

“How do we know you are trustworthy?” You did your best to read him, but he gave no sign of being either on your side or on the other guys’.

“Who would be crazy enough to meet the Resistance, anyway?” And with that, he walked away.

“Well, that was fast,” Poe spoke first, signaling the waiter for a couple of drinks not before putting the drive safely kept in one of BB-8’s compartments.

“This better be real,” You couldn’t shake the nerves away from your body, only then realizing how risky everything could have been. Who knew, maybe you were distracted by your security after all. “What if this is a fake thing? Or a drive that will read into all of our files and all our missions and-”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Poe’s hand reached yours on top of the table, but even without the touch, the way he interrupted your dooming thoughts so sweetly, calling out for you in that way he hadn’t done before, was enough for you to land on your feet again. “It’s all going to be okay, we’ll check it before giving this to the General, ‘kay?”

You nodded, that’s all you could do, since words had left your brain for a good minute already. If his words weren’t enough before, Poe smiled at you reassuring you everything was going to be alright. And how could it not with Poe by your side?

After one more comforting hand squeeze from Poe, he leaned back, taking his surroundings in as you took the chance to admire the view before you, it was not every day that you got a relaxed, loose-curl Poe all for yourself. “Let’s get drunk, what do you say?”

“Huh?” His proposal caught you by surprise, you were too busy thinking of�� other things.

“We’re already here, the night is young, and that was stressing enough.”

You laughed at his words, murmuring a so-not-convincing “You are terrible, Poe,” covering your face long enough to not see the way he lit up at your giggles. His mission was accomplished. “Alright Commander, let’s get drunk.”

A couple more drinks flowed for each one of you, enough for both of you to be comfortably tipsy, laughing, and living that night without a care in the world. Poe was in the middle of recounting a ridiculous story about Snap, something involving his ship becoming the nest of a family of tiny rodents on their last trip to Endor and him being terrified of them, when you realized how drunk you both actually were, laughing your asses off without really being able to pay enough attention to the story.

“I swear, he kept squirming away and begging me to take them out of his ship,” Poe managed to say in between laughter.

“Oh poor Snap,” You tried having some sympathy for the guy, but in between the alcohol and Poe’s laugh, you really couldn’t feel anything other thing than an exploding amount of happiness. “How come you had never told me that story?”

“It just happened las week,” Poe’s laughter began to die down. “And you were too busy not wanting to talk to me.” He raised his eyebrows at you from behind his glass. You had no words to justify it, not this time, yet your mouth still opened and closed without a sound coming from it. The one thing you were working so hard on not bringing up was laid on the table, displayed for you in the shape of Poe’s whole heart.

“I was not- ugh, I know what it seemed like but I promise it’s not-”

“This is not just me, right? I mean… you feel this too, right?”

“What are you talking about?” You almost believed yourself, asking unknowingly as if your heart wasn’t hammering against your chest all of a sudden.

“You know what I’m talking about.” Poe was so sure about what he was saying you could be mad. But you weren’t, you couldn’t be.

You could keep quiet. You could stand up and leave and never acknowledge your feelings anymore. The thing is, you couldn’t, not when looking at him at base and much less with the stars ant the moon reflecting in his eyes. “It’s not just you, it definitely isn’t.” You stated, simple as that, but the look in his face, hopeful and gloomy all at the same time, told you that you hadn’t answered his question at all. After a sigh, you spoke again. “We can’t, Poe.”

“Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?” He almost hoped, because that was way much better than any scenario he had played in his head.

“Yeah,” you shrugged, doubtful, not knowing how to tell him. Poe smirked, laughing at the situation you were both in. “I’m sorry, and I’m sorry for lying to you about it yesterday. But this, whatever this is, is something I never felt before.” The tiny smile he sent your way was enough to make you smile too. “Great timing, huh?”

“It’s not the best.” Poe nodded without ever breaking his stare from you.

“When Leia assigned us both, and I knew we were going to be sent away together, I- I knew I would not be able to hide it, but I had to at least try.”

“I know. I-” His own laugh interrupted him, meeting your eyes with a shimmer in them. “I felt the same way.”

You shared a silent smile, taking in the fact that you had both just confessed how bad you had fell and how you couldn’t do much about it.

“I don’t know if I’m brave enough to risk it.” The happiness you had felt mere seconds ago left the table, breaking both your hearts almost instantly. Poe understood, you saw him nodding, but that didn’t meant he agreed with you. “It’s just- It’s hard, Poe, and just imagine us trying to work this out in the middle of a war. There’s so much at stake and-”

“Hey, hey-” He cut you off, grabbing your hand over the table in a soft grasp in the process. “I know.” When he sighed you realized he felt the exact same way. “Let’s just finish this mission, ‘kay? We already have the intel, so let’s enjoy this dinner, get the job done, and when we get back we can continue our own lives forgetting about each other. Deal?” A pained smile painted his face. Poe’s eyes spoke a million words and reflected even more galaxies. You wanted to explore them forever.

No!, you wanted to scream. No deal, no way. How could he even suggest that when he knew damn well it would be a lie to you both? “Deal.” you said against yourself matching his sad smile, thinking of all the possible ways this could have ended if your lives weren’t so complicated.

The inn they had put you at was as lovely as the rest of the town, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to enjoy the night away with an actual bed instead of the hard mattresses you had back at Base. The report of today’s encounter was half-filled on your pad, which was long forgotten on the bed as your eyes got lost in the sight outside your window. Your nails couldn’t resist any more picking and biting, but you couldn’t take Poe’s words out of your mind.

He felt it. He felt it too and there you were like an idiot trying to avoid the most real thing you’ve both ever felt in years. “Fuck it.” you spoke into the silence of your room. You didn’t think twice when you began walking to the door, headed straight to Poe’s room across the hall and set this straight once and for all. You couldn’t ignore your feelings anymore.

But as soon as you opened the door you were met with Poe’s disheveled curls and his uneasy eyes. “Poe.” You greeted surprised, not knowing what else to say, the practiced speech you had planned was nowhere to be found anymore.

“I can’t,” he said firmly. “I can’t go back and live life without you. You have no idea how hard it has been for me too.” You were speechless. When you made up your mind to go and confess your feelings to Poe you never expected this, never expected him to be already at your door with a desperate confession of love. “I think I’m in love with you.” He added when he saw you were not talking. “I’ve been for a while, and I can’t pretend anymore that I’m not, especially when I know that you feel it too.”

He took a step back from your door when he saw you were quiet, muttering a quiet apology, but the lightning bolts you felt on your fingers couldn’t let him walk away.

“Wait,” Your hand reached for his wrist and stopped him, pulling him to be close to you again, close enough for your chests to press against each other with every quick breath you took. Poe smiled, that stupidly gorgeous smile of his.

“I’m in love with you too.” You barely finished the sentence when his lips crashed against yours, backing you into your room and closing the door behind him as his lips moved in sync with yours. Tender and soft, just as you had pictured them so many times, they molded perfectly with yours, all while his hands held your back letting yours cling around his neck, up and down his back, around his arms… anywhere they felt like going, making up for all the times you could’ve kissed him and you didn’t. His lips found their way to your neck not long after, making the most beautiful gasp leave your lips. You could feel the smile on the kisses he was peppering all over your neck and jaw, your fingers tangled in his curls to hold him firmly against your skin.

“Poe,” You breathed, and whatever it was you were going to say was cut short when he started kissing your lips again. With expert hands, firm and rough moving along your back, he walked you backward until the back of his knees reached the bed, lowering slowly to let you straddle him. Breathless, you parted your lips and found each other’s eyes. You couldn’t help but laugh, an incredulous laughter that forced you to hide your face in his neck. His fingers turned delicate as he traced circles on your back. If this was what kissing Poe was like, you would’ve kissed him the moment you met him at that bar.

“There’s no going back from this, isn’t it?”

“There better not be.” Poe shook his head with a lovestruck smile all over his face. Your fingers reached up to trace Poe’s eyebrows, soon your lips replaced them and traced down his face, to that spot in between his eyebrows and the hard edges of his nose that you’ve always loved. Your hands traveled down his chest and began to lift his shirt, there was no hurry in your movements, all you wanted was to enjoy each minute you had together.

“Are you sure?” Poe whispered as you began to lift your own shirt.

Once it reached the floor and your hands were back to each side of his face, you replied with a smile on your face: “With you, I’m always sure.”

The night passed in a blur of soft touches and tangled limbs. Poe took his time, never rushing anything, letting every exploding emotion take over your bodies whenever it arrived, every time it arrived. It was everything you had ever dreamt of and more, it was the man you loved with every bit of your heart loving you back as if both your lives depended on it.

You were still wrapped in each other when the sun came up, the silence of the couple hours of sleep you had filling the room in a quiet haze. “What’s going to happen when we get back?” You broke the silence. “When people find out it’s all going to be a mess. My mom is going to freak out, everyone is going to talk, and the ranks are definitely going to come up…”

Poe turned his head to kiss your forehead as a way to stop your rambling mouth, which for some reason, has happened a lot in the last few hours. “Why don’t we take it slow? With telling everyone, I mean.”

“Sure, because the last 5 hours were definitely us taking it slow.” You commented with sarcasm, making Poe tickle your side. “Are you talking about a secret relationship, Commander Dameron?” Resting your chin on his chest you turned up to look at him.

“Maybe.” He met your impressed stare, and as you began to break into a smile he quickly turned around to lay on top of you. “I would want nothing but to scream into the galaxy that I’m madly in love with you,” He squeezed your side, making you squirm. “But for now, just for a while-”

“I know, I know. We should enjoy having this for just us, just for a little while.” You finished, pulling him in to kiss him. “You’re going to have to keep it professional, though.”

“What are you talking about? I’m always professional.” Much in disregard of his own words, his lips started attacking your neck leaving delicious open mouth kisses on it.

“I mean no cute little nicknames, no calling me ‘sweetheart’ in public, no sneaky looks,” Poe whined, writhing his hips against yours as he complained. “Definitely not that.” You whispered that last part, fingers sneaking up to his tangled curls.

“I can behave, sweetheart, if that’s what you’re worried about.” The way he said that, with that love-drunk smile on his face, told you just how much trouble you were in. “Can you?”

You matched his daring smile, quickly thinking and catching him off guard as you pushed him to his back and straddled his hips. “Of course I can.”

You could deal with the rest of the galaxy some other day, because right then there was nowhere you’d rather be than in Poe’s arms.

🚀✨🚀✨🚀✨🚀✨🚀✨🚀✨🚀✨🚀✨

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron x you #poe x you #poe x reader #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron au #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fic

187 notes · View notes

thesirenbanshee · 5 months ago

Text

Behold, “Chapter 15”! 😸

TITLE: A Force of a Different Color

RATING: Explicit

SUMMARY:

“What is your favorite animal and your favorite color? Is it a lion, and purple? Or perhaps a porg, and blue? And, more importantly, what is your soulmate’s favorite animal and color? You’ll find out the answer when your soulmate is born . . . because you’ll suddenly shapeshift into whichever animal and color your soulmate loves best. Which can get really annoying really quickly, as ten-year-old Ben Solo learns one day when poof, he turns into a pink bunny.

Or, the crack-canonverse-shapeshifter-soulmate AU that makes, like, zero sense.”

13 notes · View notes

ahsokathegray · 10 months ago

Text

Lies and Porg Pajamas

Pairing: Rexsoka

Prompt: Rexsoka Monthly Nov. ‘23 - I Like It When You��

Summary: Dearest reader, all love stories must start somewhere. This one started twice. Once, in the close of war, amidst loss, uncertainty, and abrupt partings. And for a second time, amidst lies and porg patterned pajamas.

Tags: language, Rex in lingerie, fluff, idiots in love, porg orphanages

Word Count: 4,717

A/N: If you haven’t already, go give @rexsoka-monthly a follow and join us in supporting and creating prompt-based Rexsoka content! 🫶

read on ao3! / masterlist

This wasn’t the first time Ahsoka had seen Rex walking about the halls of the Tantive IV in the small hours of the morning.

It was perhaps the tenth time… not that she was counting, thank you very much.

There was an adjustment period to be had, after all, what with having been part of Bail’s rebellion for only a short while now. Rex had been aboard for just a few weeks longer than Ahsoka, but still seemed to be having issues settling in.

She knew him well enough to tell that he was wrestling with some internal struggle that no one was privy to.

During daylight hours (if you could call it that when they were moving through space), Rex appeared to be the otherwise fine, collected Captain she always knew him to be. But if anyone else had known him as she had, they’d know his under eyes were darker, his steps were more sluggish, and even his voice sounded slower… She was just a concerned friend, alright?

Ahsoka’s first guess on the reason behind his late night strolls were the nightmares. Rex had told her once, years before, all clones had them and that he was no exception. The idea that these dreams were somehow worse now that the war had ended caused her heart to sink.

Her second guess was simply the unfamiliarity with the ship and its inhabitants.

Trust was in short supply these days.

If you can’t even trust your own brothers, let alone yourself, how can you trust anyone else in the galaxy?

As good as Bail was and as much as his words and promises held up, she couldn’t blame Rex if he didn’t fully trust the Senator. Even she was wary of the man at first, not using the comm he’d given her until she had no other option.

Sometimes, Ahsoka wondered if Rex’s trust in her had lessened — or if there was any of it left at all. They didn’t speak much these days. When she all but insisted they part ways… they’d both felt the unimaginable hurt of it.

This was why, when she saw glimpses of him well past midnight, she kept to herself. It was often that she found her feet wanting to carry her to him, therefore, it was often she had to remind herself to stay away.

He’s just familiarizing himself with these new halls, Ahsoka. He’s busy memorizing passageways — testing his knowledge. He isn’t looking for conversation. He’s looking for escape routes if it all goes wrong, counting steps, seeing which doors belonged to who.

She passed the observation deck tonight, stole a quiet look at him, and continued to walk on. He wasn’t pacing for once, nor did he look like a man on a mission. Nevertheless, this part of the ship was taken.

She made it all but ten steps away.

“Can’t sleep?” Rex asked, his voice echoing in the empty corridor.

Ahsoka stopped and turned to face him, her heart in her throat, taken aback that he’d approached her at all. “I don’t exactly do much of that these days…. You?”

What was he wearing?

A pause drifted between them and the slight uplift of Rex’s lips lessened the tension. “Something like that,” he answered, then added, “Care to join me?”

“I figured you wanted to be alone.”

He nodded, as if he were considering the information, before beckoning his head towards the door and walking back through it.

With furrowed brow markings, Ahsoka followed him and entered the observation deck. Rex took a seat on one of the benches and she sat beside him, leaving a good bit of room in between.

Only in the awkwardness of this encounter did Ahsoka’s gaze roam, eyes settling on the specifics of his clothing. She’d never seen him between these small hours of night and morning… outside of the war at least. Therefore, she’d never seen him in anything less than his gear and his newly adopted civvies.

Simple slippers covered his feet — the same ones that covered hers and everyone else’s on board. He wore a snug fitting, long sleeve shirt that said something about riot racing in a variety of languages. Then for bottoms, he just had on a pair of gray sweats — these were quite tight as well. She didn’t allow herself to look very long at those. They were so terribly flattering on him. No one should have the right to pull them off that well.

Her own choice of nightwear in comparison made her nerves start to rattle. Coming up for air, she saw that Rex was taking stock of her appearance as well.

“Porg pajamas?” he asked, pressing his lips together to fight off his evident amusement.

Ahsoka blushed wildly and offered him a nervous laugh, “Courtesy of the lost and found.”

That was a lie. She’d never lied to Rex before. Why did she feel so embarrassed? This was a new and unwelcome development. Embarrassment wasn’t something she came by often and most certainly not with Rex. She bit her tongue out of guilt and tried to save it.

“What about yours? Betting on riot races now, are we?”

This was the right decision.

He laughed despite the late hour and how tired he was, looking down at his own nightwear, “Gotta do something with the excess of free time and all my hard-earned Republic credits.”

A bitter silence took the empty seat between them on the bench. Neither one of them had any credits to their name. Even if they had, the Empire was concluding the process of phasing them out — eliminating their value, purpose, and existence; just as had been done to the clones and the Jedi.

“So the lost and found then?” she asked, hoping to lighten the mood. Despite her glum thought that she and Rex themselves belonged in a lost and found crate, her maneuver worked.

Rex flashed his teeth and nodded, “I’m more of a bolo-ball fan.”

The next time Ahsoka saw Rex after hours, he spotted her first. She was pouring a cup of cold caf when he approached her in the deserted mess hall.

“You’ve got a steady hand,” he surveyed, walking up behind her and plucking an empty mug from the table.

She stopped mid-pour and arched an incredulous brow marking. “Jedi, Rex,” was all she said, shooting him a questioning smirk and then filling his cup. Then she saw the darts in his hand.

A mischievous smile broke out across Rex’s features. “Got anything better to do this late at night?”

Had he always been this charismatic? Her heart skipped several beats. Or this handsome?

“Sleep,” Ahsoka said, not meaning it whatsoever.

Darts with Rex was something a much younger Ahsoka hadn’t enjoyed too much. Abysmal — that was how Jesse had described her hand at the game. The only thing interesting about it was getting to spend time with a Captain she needed to win over as a shiny new Padawan — something that had eventually turned into her most cherished friendship in the galaxy.

To this day, the only thing interesting about darts with Rex would be that it was spent in his company.

Okay, so maybe she was interested in seeing where it would lead this time around — especially given their unspoken only-acknowledged-with-the-eyes care for one another. Neither one of them had dared speak of it after Ahsoka suggested they part. Force, it was part of the reason why she’d suggested it in the first place.

“You and I and that cup of caf know you’re not doing that any time soon,” Rex countered, beckoning her once again to follow him.

He soon stopped in the nearby doorway of a tiny office, currently serving as a storage room instead of a place of work.

The room was so small that Rex had to stand in the hallway to get a proper distance away from the dartboard. He threw one effortlessly that landed somewhere between the edge and the center. “Think you remember how it’s done?”

“Think you better stick to your pistols?” Ahsoka smirked, crossing her arms.

Rex rolled his eyes in a very-Ahsoka fashion, saying it was late and that he was rusty before he placed a dart in her reluctant palm. “Come on. It helps me think. Now, just how I did it. Once you throw a couple, the muscle memory will return,” he explained.

Tonight, his riot racing shirt was replaced with his blacks, plus the lower portion of his civvies. This part of the ship was drafty and only got colder with each level. Ahsoka found that she missed the sweats and the tight ugly racing shirt.

She then threw a dart and it bounced off the board. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, but Rex didn’t buy her plea for alternating turns. She went again and missed again. The fifth dart she threw had a bit of Force assistance behind it, ensuring it landed right in the center.

Rex gave her a look of disapproval.

“I think it’s your sleeves messing you up,” he observed, plucking her failed darts from the floor. Rex placed them back in her hand and stepped behind her, settling over her shoulder and taking hold of the long sleeve of her nightgown. “You’re thinking about it too hard.”

It happened so quickly she’d hardly had time to register it.

His breath was warm on her lekku and the tiny sliver of her neck that was exposed. Rex’s hand moved tantalizingly slow, one finger whispering across her skin as he tucked the excess material behind her elbow.

She felt like a stereotypical lover in a holo drama with a breath caught in her throat. Swallowing the lump away, Ahsoka allowed Rex to guide her.

“You’re giving the throw enough power but you’re losing your aim. Bring your arm back to the side of your head and let it release with the extension of your arm,” he instructed, bending her elbow in example.

How she was meant to retain all this when he was standing so close, Ahsoka didn’t know. Her heart felt too big for her chest and her ribcage felt too fragile to hold it. And he smelled good, like a fresh shower, caf, and hours-old cologne.

A niggling voice in her head whispered things she’d tried to bury.

There’s another reason you keep your distance from him, Ahsoka. He makes you lose focus in the way you so dearly crave of him.

“Now try again,” he said, noticing her tongue dart out to press upon her lip. “Without the Force.”

Ahsoka laughed defeatedly, “How’d you know?”

“You have a tell,” he answered, pressing his own tongue to his upper lip to show her.

Sithspit that was… her heart quickened impossibly further. Yes, okay, she very much enjoyed playing darts now.

She threw the thing, setting it on a sailing path towards the center of the board. Rex’s hands fell from her shoulder to her hips. The dart stuck and landed fairly close to the center. His hands slipped away, darting to the back of his neck.

With a small jump in celebration, Ahsoka cheered, “I did it!”

Rex’s face was slightly more pink than before. “I knew you could! Though, I think next time shorter sleeves will be the key. Maybe you can call upon your porg pajamas to do the job,” he teased.

Next time.

“I don’t think they’ll be of much help,” Ahsoka said.

“Why not? Did they manage to fly off somewhere? I wasn’t aware they could do that at all,” he joked. “Fattest little things I’ve ever seen.”

Ahsoka could feel the warmth in her lekku gather and darken her chevrons. “They can and I… can’t. I returned them to the lost and found.”

“No you didn’t.”

“I did.”

“Tell me you’re lying, Ahsoka.”

Her name on his mouth sounded better than it ever had.

“I’m not lying.”

“Alright, darts can wait. We’re going to rescue your porgs right now.”

“Rex!”

“Nope, I’ve already decided,” he replied over his shoulder, already on his way to the deck below.

Following him, Ahsoka huffed, “Rex I’m sure whoever they belong to has gotten them already.” She bit her tongue again, frustrated when this didn’t deter him from his mission. The pajamas would be exactly as she left them because they belonged to no one but her.

Sure enough, the cold, dusty corner that the lost and found crate sat in still held her nearly folded porg pajamas. Though, they were no longer on top.

Rex plucked them from under the pile of new additions and handed them back to her, “There. They’ve been returned home safely from the orphanage for porgs.”

Ahsoka only rolled her eyes and watched as Rex went through the remaining contents of the crate. Neither one of them had many possessions to their name. “They should really rename this thing to donations,” he said, tossing aside a muddy boot. “Oh ho, what’s this?” The inflection in his voice raised curiously.

Ahsoka craned her neck to see what he was holding and her eyes went wide when he turned to face her. Looped through his thumbs were two of the thinnest straps she’d ever seen, and what they held up… well, Ahsoka didn’t think it very much counted as clothing.

She swallowed her initial shock. “Where’s the rest of it?”

Rex wiggling the silky item around. “I rather like it. Fair quality material for how little of it there is. You sure you’ve got plenty of pajamas?”

He winked.

Ahsoka looked down at her simple night gown to hide the flush in her face. What he was holding was about a quarter of the length of what she had on. It was silky, and lacy, and… an image of herself wearing it materialized in her mind. Her subconscious version of Rex liked it very much.

She shook the thought away and snorted. “Yes I do, thank you. I actually think you’d look rather alluring in it, Rex, seeing as the riot racing shirt is clearly all the pajamas you own. Go on, please. Let’s see it,” she teased.

Expecting that to be the end of it, Ahsoka gathered her porg pajamas and made for the door. But Rex didn’t follow. She looked back. He had just discarded the upper half of his blacks.

Her face dropped, eyes already glued to his muscular back. Oh Force.

It was quite evident what Rex was really getting up to during his free time, and it wasn’t betting on riot racing. He had definitely not been this fit during the war.

Force.

Fuck.

His upper body was quite a deal wider now and his muscles rippled as he moved. Ahsoka’s eyes were unabashedly wandering lower and lower. Oh, his waist—

He kicked his slippers off.

Ahsoka’s mouth, had it not already been dry, was as good as the surface of Tattooine now. Now— Now, he was fiddling with the fasteners on his pants.

She was glued to the spot, unable to move, to swallow, unable to tear her eyes away. Rex’s trousers hit the floor in a heap and he stepped out of them. Tonight may be the night she passed away. Ahsoka Tano — survivor of Order 66 and the Clone Wars, dead via fatally attractive ex-Captain. She clutched her porg pajamas to her chest.

The flimsy negligee was tossed over his head. Ahsoka was certain it wouldn’t go over his broad shoulders, but by some miracle it did.

He faced her then, pure amusement plasters over his face. Rex was red in the face, trying not to laugh as he looked for Ahsoka’s reaction. The tiny gown had just covered his briefs. And whether the material was supposed to be sheer or not — as it was stretched to its limits across his muscular chest — Ahsoka didn’t know.

She knew nothing in this moment. Her head was empty except for the, albeit hilarious, revealing sight in front of her.

Ahsoka saw the concern reach Rex’s eyes when she finally found them and quickly collected herself. But it was a futile effort. The man had found a pair of porg slippers and slipped them over his feet. “Well aren’t you p-pretty,” she laughed, finally overcome with a giggling fit once she was brought out of her trance.

“There it is,” he smiled.

Taking a deep breath, Ahsoka asked, “There what is?”

“Your laugh. A real one,” he answered. “I haven’t heard it in… Well, it’s been too long.”

The mood had shifted. Rex gave her that empathetic smile he was too good at. She returned it, keeping eye contact for perhaps too long for what was normal between friends. It was then that Rex seemed to notice the full weight of what he’d done. It was cold. He was basically fully undressed. Ahsoka was staring at him, lekku darkened.

He reached for his discarded clothing at once and ripped the gown. “Oh,” was all he said, raising up with his pink tinged cheeks.

Ahsoka burst out laughing and Rex was helpless but to laugh at himself. Placing his clothes in her arms, Rex ripped the poor dress from his body and tossed it back in the lost and found.

Ahsoka swallowed hard and gave a nearly naked Rex his clothes back, trying extra hard to keep looking at her feet. “Such a shame about the little night dress.”

“I know. Should we hold a funeral?”

“We should. You’re keeping the porg slippers right?”

“Wouldn’t dream of leaving here without them.”

“Rex, what are you doing?” Ahsoka asked, bending down to where he lay on the floor the next evening.

She’d lie to everyone but Rex if they asked where she’d been tonight. Was she wandering the halls past lights-out looking for him? Absolutely not — depending on who posed the question.

He was staring up at the star charts as if they were stars themselves, his eyes glazed over, the ugly yet flattering racing shirt back on his body. She sighed and asked why he was on the floor before taking his unresponsiveness as her cue to give up.

Instead of pestering him for an answer, Ahsoka laid down beside him and looked up at the imitation stars. They lay in silence for a long time, watching as the mini map’s Tantive left one sector and entered another. “Ilos,” she whispered, pointing to a green dot indicating a planet.

Rex’s brows furrowed in her periphery.

“No, actually I believe that’s Ilos Minor,” Rex said.

She smiled to herself, “I know.” And really, she did. Rex had a special interest in maps and prided himself on his knowledge of the systems. There was a high probability he’d correct her if she guessed incorrectly, as he’d done frequently in the past, so she did so — on purpose.

Rex sat up slightly to look at her. His gaze again lasted longer than usual, the tension in his face softening. Then he noticed her porg pajamas, which elicited a genuine smile. “Your porgs,” he said, surprise in his voice.

“Your porgs. I’m just taking care of them,” Ahsoka corrected.

“Are they being fed properly?” Rex asked, a glint sparkling in his honeyed eyes.

Ahsoka bit her lip to stifle a laugh, “Most properly.”

“How about sleep? Are they getting the rest they need?”

She had a funny feeling they weren’t talking about porgs anymore.

Smiling, she continued playing the game. “Better than they used to.”

“Good. I like it when you take care of my porgs.”

Rex was overly pleased with himself, grinning like a fool at the star charts and thinking Ahsoka couldn’t see it. She scrunched her nose and looked away briefly to do her own foolish grinning. The silence that encased them now was comfortable, peaceful rather than tense — echoing, if she dare say, with something more.

Whatever had been ailing Rex had evidently subsided for the time being.

“I like it when you take care of you,” Ahsoka said after a long while.

His knuckles brushed hers and he took her hand, laced their fingers with care, and brought it up to his lips. A soft kiss was pressed to Ahsoka’s thumb. The bags under Rex’s eyes were deeper and darker than she’d ever seen, but the love still managed to reach his eyes.

Fine, she was caught in another lie. She wasn’t just the concerned friend she told herself she was. Ahsoka was concerned for him because she loved him — in every way a person can be loved.

He rested their conjoined hands on his chin. “I knew it was a matter of time before you started demanding that I sleep.”

“I’m not telling you anything your body isn’t already telling you itself,” she said smartly.

“Sleeping isn’t the problem,” he finally divulged. “I can fall asleep fine, it's just that once— once I do, I see everything I pretend to forget when I’m awake.”

“Nightmares?”

“I wish that were the extent of it,” Rex answered truthfully.

A pained look of sorts must’ve taken over her face, as Rex kissed her thumb again and told her it was alright.

She worried her lip and attempted to lighten the darkness that had just fallen upon them. “You ever try counting porgs?”

Rex gave her a laugh and shook his head. “Is that the solution then?”

“Yes. I’m prescribing you a bedtime scenario of 100 porgs jumping a fence.”

“Do they have a shepherd?”

“You can be the shepherd if you like,” she giggled.

“I want it to be you.”

A sheepish grin lifted the corners of Ahsoka’s mouth and her face felt warm. “It can be me, then. Whatever you want.”

Rex sat up after that and switched off the projection of the maps. Holding out his hand for her, he said, “Well, you’re the professional. Admit me, Healer Tano. Show me the way to my room.”

“I hardly believe you’ve lost your way,” she rolled her eyes, taking his hand. “You’ve memorized this entire ship back to front.”

“Have I now?”

“Yes. You have.”

“And how would you know this?”

“A little porgie told me.”

“And you’re sure it’s not because you’ve been observing my habits during our late night strolls?”

Ahsoka visibly flushed this time. “Are they ours?”

“They are,” he said, turning serious as they walked hand in hand down the hall.

When they reached the landing that led to all the ship’s quarters, the air grew thicker. Their night was coming to a close again. It was her least favorite part. It wasn’t lost on her though how Rex had slowed down, walking down the hall in the least hurry possible.

More space was slotted between them lest anyone else calling the Tantive home was awake and saw them.

All too soon, they came to a stop at Rex’s bedroom door. He gave her a smile she couldn’t read and said nothing as he opened it. It looked identical to her own, just mirrored, so she didn’t know why she was so interested in seeing it.

That, again, was a lie. She knew quite well.

Shifting awkwardly in the doorway, Ahsoka was about to walk away when Rex looked back at her.

“Aren’t you coming in?” he asked.

Ahsoka’s mouth opened and closed uselessly before quirking up into a smile. “I figured you wanted to be alone.”

His signature half smile appeared at the same words she’d just said only a few nights prior. “Being alone is better with you, I’ve recently found.”

She spotted his comically large porg slippers by the bed. “I get it. You just need someone to take care of your porgs. I’m not the porg whisperer, you know?”

Shaking his head, Rex just laughed. Ahsoka had a feeling this dance they were doing with the porgs was coming to a close. He stood by the bed, a glint in his eye telling her to shut the door and step into the room already — she did.

“You do realize that by me being here, that doesn’t count as us being alone?”

“Well we are, aren’t we?”

The lump that had been frequently occupying her throat rose up again. Silence rang loudly in her montrals. Ahsoka looked around the small room. They were in fact, after several nights of having the halls to themselves, now truly and actually alone. Her lekku felt hot and there was that tinge of pink decorating Rex’s cheeks.

It was no longer something of wishful thinking or bedtime scenarios to help her off to sleep. It was real.

Rex didn’t dare step towards her. “I didn’t mean… Of course, you can leave if you want.”

Ahsoka didn’t know if this was the part where they confess their feelings or run into one another in a passionate kiss. Tomorrow morning, she’d make a request that the cheesy holo dramas that played on one of the screens in the mess be switched to another news channel.

“You’re the only thing…”

“I want to stay,” she heard herself say.

“…I find comfort in,” Rex trailed.

The silence that rang in her montrals now rang in the small room around them.

“You what?” he asked.

Ahsoka felt that familiar airiness in her stomach, as was always present when Rex was around these days. “I want to stay. I think— I know now that I had it all wrong, Rex. Splitting up… That was the wrong call. I want to stay, and not just here tonight, but—”

Rex took that fate-sealing step towards her, “Come here.”

She fell into his arms, her entire body relaxing as they wrapped around her. The breath left her lungs as he hugged her, but she couldn’t find it in her to care. Ahsoka hugged him just as tightly in return, feeling him beneath her fingertips, her hands, her chest — reminding herself that he was real, and here, and alive.

With misty vision, she pulled away just enough to look up at him. His face was overcome with emotion, eyes soft, as he used a thumb to wipe away the twin tears that had begun to fall down her cheeks.

Her heart hammered in her chest, beating in sync against his.

“Stay. Organa is running low on rooms. Move your things into mine and stay,” he said breathily.

“Rex,” Ahsoka gasped, her heart doing the equivalent of riot racing.

“I’m serious. What’ll it take you? One trip, maybe two?”

“One,” she blushed. “But we should wait. Just a little longer, I think.”

He smiled, the blush in his cheeks spreading down to his neck. “Okay. We’ll wait as long as you’d like. I’ll wait forever if I need to. I— I care… deeply about you, Ahsoka.”

She pressed her lips together in an attempt to control the flutters in her body and laughed, “And my porgs?”

Rex fiddled the material on her shoulder and she felt his chest rumble with laughter, “Yes. You and your porgs.”

Ahsoka beamed up at him and he pulled away — all too soon, in her opinion — and climbed into his bunk. He looked back to her before he even got comfortable and beckoned her with his head once more, silently asking her to get in with him. She followed, senses overcome with nothing but Rex.

He dimmed the lights, helped her situate the blankets and they slotted together as if sleeping side by side was something they’d been doing every night since the war ended.

Strong arms wrapped around her and he nuzzled into the crook of her neck. A single kiss was pressed to the back of her left lek and Ahsoka smiled with her eyes closed.

“I don’t think I’ll need to count those porgs, after all,” Rex mumbled, kissing her shoulder.

Neither one of them had felt such peace in years.

It wasn’t the magic night that Rex had stopped having the nightmares. He’d always have them. They did subside sometimes, but from this night after, they did become less frequent. And as things rhymed in silly, cheesy holo dramas — it was the last night that they used porgs for euphemisms of their love for one another. For, dear readers, Rex and Ahsoka both woke the next morning to the Tantive’s gentle wake-up call and said those fate-sealing words with a fate-sealing kiss.

#rexsoka #rexsoka fic #rexsoka monthly #november 2023: i like it when you #lies and porg pajamas #my fic #ahsokathegray

22 notes · View notes

happy-beeeps · 1 year ago

Text

Day 9/10: Sweater and Boots

Summary: you and Din bundle up for a walk through an idyllic winter town.

WC: 1.1k

Warnings: none!

“Ok, are we feeling warm bud?”

You get a noncommittal babble of a response from Grogu, typical, as he wiggles in front of you. He’s bundled up as best you can get him, and Din is nervously puttering around behind you.

“You sure he’s fine?”

“Din, he’s fine. It was colder on the last system we took him to.”

He gives a grunt in an answer, before moving towards the rucksack of clothes he hangs in one of the door jams of the ship—you’ve been lovingly referring to it as his closet.

He comes out carrying a thick, black bundle of fabric that looks all too familiar.

“But are you going to be fine?” He hands the fabric to you and you hold it open. It’s his sweater, one of the ones he wears beneath his armor on colder systems. It’s big and heavy and so deliciously warm, and you put it on over the wool underlayer you were hoping to compensate with a heavy scarf.

In fact, he is quick to pull your scarf back on, wrapping it up and over your neck and around your head.

“Lose 30% of your body heat with your exposed.”

“Bet you’re always toasty in there then,” you tap his chest and he chuckles, adjusting your scarf again.

“I don’t just wear it for looks.”

You pick up Grogu and hold him to your chest while you wrap a loose bundle of fabric around your torso. Not only do you not have to worry about losing the little guy on your walk, but now you get to share a little extra body heat.

Din is already at your feet, holding your thick, woolen boots in front of you, lightly tapping an ankle for you to lift your foot in. It’s a little ritual you’ve picked up as so many systems have entered a winter-esque season on your travels, while you distract Grogu, Din gently guides your foot in your boot.

He pauses before he puts the second one on, and you can feel his gaze heavy on you. You wiggle your toes, already knowing the words coming out of his mouth.

“Are those… lothcats.”

“And what about it?”

He laughs, quietly, then, “What happened to the porgs?”

The rest of your foot is guided into the boot, and your spread your toes wide on the squishy fabric. “I lost my left sock, so if you see any porg stuff, you let me know.”

“Deal.”

This system is cute. It’s quaint, which made it ideal for a supply run, and just populated enough to attract the safety in crowds. It’s also not ridiculously cold, and beneath Din’s sweater and your scarf, you’re comfortably warm as you walk through the town.

The buildings are all cream and dark wood, and people bustle in and out of them carrying food, bolts of fabric, and wrapped gifts. Outside, patrons chat with one another in a few languages, some you can recognize and others that sound foreign to you. It’s a delightful sound, lilting and bright with hard consonants and long, drawn out language.

Honestly, you’re just surprised it’s so dark. According to your chrono, it should only be a little after midday, yet the sun has completely set in the sky. You know that some of these systems of solar cycles so baffling that in the summer it’s bright all day long, but you’re just surprised to see it in person.

Grogu is loving the town, snuggled warm against your sweater he reaches his arms out at everyone and everything. Din walks strong next to you, one arm tucked comfortably on the small of your back. It’s nice when he’s like this, easy and relaxed, such a rare treat these days.

You go to step into a small shop when Grogu spots a sweet stand nearby, his babbles turning into cries as his small hands stretch forward. Din looks at you, the door held open, and you swat him away, gently.

“I’ll take him for a treat, he’s been good today.”

There’s a sigh, but you know he’s smiling. “He’s gonna be up all night.”

You place your hand on your cheek in mock suffering, “I guess I’ll have to share with him. How will I survive!”

Din shakes his head and moves to step into the shop, careful to touch your waist and feel for the hidden blaster tucked under your layers. When he feels adequately confident in your safety, he disappears inside.

“Cmon, let’s see what kind of trouble we can get in before your dad comes back.”

The cart in the square has warm drinks that smell of rich spices and an ooey, gooey cheese melted across a warm piece of bread. This feels like the perfect compromise between the sweets your menace of a child had been trying to get into earlier, and you’re happy to share the rich meal with him while you sip your drink in the square.

It really is a beautiful town, it reminds you of the small villages you’d seen images of on Alderaan. There’s lampposts with candles along each street corner and tall green trees with rugged bark dotted here and there. Along the cobbled streets and between the snow, red flowers dot through the earth. You could sit here forever, and you intend to ask Din the name of the system again—and how you can come back.

He’s back before you know it, a large bundle in his arms.

“Shopping spree?”

“With the way this one eats?” He looses a hand on the bundle to rub the kid’s tummy, who babbles in response to the touch. “Let’s go home.”

There’s a flurry of snow falling on the walk back, just enough to land on your lashes and crunch beneath your boots. Din is walking quickly, and notably carrying the bundle as far away from you as possible. Dads you say, there’s almost a pep in his step?

When you do get back to the ship, you quickly tuck Grogu into his pram while Din sets the supplies aside. You’ll most likely just sleep here tonight, seeing as the planet is safe enough to not have take off immediately.

When you’ve both finished your tasks, Din motions you towards the small bed you share on the Crest, something tucked ominously behind his back.

“It’s for my peace of mind, so you can’t tell me it’s too much.”

You quirk an eyebrow confused, until he places a pile of fabric in your hands. You pull the soft knit outward it’s stretches just as big as his, black and white with a little snowflake pattern embroidered in. And… wait… is that…

“Are there porgs on this!?” You squeal, and from his laugh you know you’re right. He’s already taking his helmet off and setting it beside him, and now you can see the twinkle in his eyes before you kiss him, soft and sweet. “Thank you.”

He kisses you again, then pulls you in close to his chest.

“Don’t thank me yet. Wait until we get to the porg sanctuary tomorrow.”

#star wars #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin imagine #dincember 2023

24 notes · View notes

aldieb · 9 months ago

Note

I wish to learn things about the vagus nerve (my enemy, my ally)

AMAZING. and that's a mood lol... the vagus nerve really has a lot to answer for given its contribution to the hyphen in the gut-brain axis

i'm mostly interested in this topic as it relates to the neuroscience of trauma, so lately i've been reading people arguing about whether or not polyvagal theory is bunk (probably). the theory builds on the foundation of the autonomic nervous system (which regulates involuntary processes like breathing and digestion) as split into the sympathetic (which activates our bodies and gets them ready for fight-or-flight type stuff) and parasympathetic (which calms our bodies down) nervous systems, with the vagus nerve being part of the latter.

but the psychologist/neuroscientist stephen porges further proposed that the parasympathetic nervous system is itself split into two more parts: one "more evolved" part associated with mammalian impulses to regulate ourselves through social connection, and one "less evolved" part that follows reptile and amphibian impulses to freeze when stressed. (he proposed this theory in 1994, but this paper from 2011 was fairly readable for me as a non-scientist.) this got people who study trauma (like my problematic fave bessel van der kolk) excited because a big issue with ptsd is overactivation of the autonomic nervous system--what if we could hack the vagus nerve and make it settle down just by making and nurturing social connections? unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be a lot of evidence for the evolutionary or physiological mechanisms behind the theory (check out this review from 2023 roasting the whole concept). porges still has like, many books published by norton (one coming out this august) and plenty of influence in the field, though.

also, this definitely doesn't close the book on the vagus nerve as a potential site for trauma treatment--now it seems like vagus nerve stimulation is the hot new thing (either using an actual device to do this or through ~self-care stuff like meditating and splashing cold water on your face).

i... don't know if any of this is something you wanted to know, but i had fun writing it instead of packing for my flight tomorrow so thanks

#ask #highladyluck #that which resembles the grave but isn’t #<- tag partly for collecting trauma scholarship but mostly for memes and angst posts #you guys need to be meaner to me bc i just realized that in the original post that inspired this ask i accidentally swapped a word so the #whole thing made no sense. but fixed it now

11 notes · View notes

starryevermore · 2 years ago

Text

all those chickens ✧ commander wolffe

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: Star Wars request? reader making Gen Z references while infiltrating a base and everyone is just “wtf” but as soon as they stop it’s all hands on deck coz reader is just silent and that ain’t normal so ⭐️PaNiC⭐️ turns out…there was a lil porg and they turned comms off to save it - anon

pairing: commander wolffe x fem!reader

summary: wolffe does not understand all of the strange references you make to the culture of your home planet, earth. but, when you go silent on a mission, wolffe finds himself worried at the lack of communication.

word count: 1,835

warnings?: reader is from earth, i’ll be honest there’s a fair mix of both millennial and gen z references in this but whatcha gonna do about it, not proofread

Commander Wolffe didn’t pretend to understand you. Trying to understand you was like trying to understand the Force—it only ever gave him a migraine so intense he would rather listen to C-3PO talk for hours on end without interruption. Or, perhaps, that was a bit extreme—no one could listen to that droid talk that long without wanting to bash their head through a wall. But, nevertheless, whenever Wolffe attempted to understand the strange things you would say, the references you would make to a culture only you were familiar with, it left him with more questions than answers.

After all, why were you doing something for the vine? What the hell was a “no bones” day and why was it being determined by a geriatric animal? (A pug? What the kark was a pug?) Why did you pick up a glass of blue milk and mutter “what is wrong with you? why are you blue?” before laughing like you told the most amazing joke in the galaxy? And never mind the words and phrases themselves you would use—“rizz”, “stan”, “yeet”, “bussin’”, “vibe check”, “I’m weak”, “main character energy”, “borg”. And don’t get him started on how you would end words with “-ussy”!

It was one of the very few times that Wolffe questioned the Jedi General Plo Koon in his decision to have you join them. In Wolffe’s view, no matter what benefits you might bring to fighting the war, it was all substantially lessened by the fact that you didn’t make a bit of sense half the time. And don’t get him started about how you always seem shocked when he or his brothers didn’t understand whatever bantha shit you were going on about.

“You wouldn’t last a day on Earth,” you’d muttered once when he questioned why you put on an accent and said “airport? I’m not going to the airport.” when Wolffe said you needed to report to the hangar.

“I would sooner walk into an active battle zone without any weapons than I would step foot on your planet,” he’d said.

“Weird flex but okay.”

He didn’t miss the flash of hurt on your face, though, he said that. It was that day that he learned your planet, in a galaxy far, far, away, had been destroyed and you were one of the very few survivors. And, well, while Wolffe might not have experienced a loss on the scale of billions, he did know loss. And he knew a thing or two about trying to keep the memory of lost loved ones alive. So, while he might not have understood every strange thing you said, he didn’t give you as much of a hard time about anymore.

That said, it still confused the hell out of him everything you referenced something from your culture. Even now, as you joined the 104th on a mission and kept going on and on about things Wolffe could never dream of understanding. For a brief moment, you had even ran ahead of them, chasing after a group of porgs, until Wolffe ordered you back to his side. He couldn’t let you run out into a trap, after all.

“Look at all those chickens!” you said, looking out the porgs roaming around. The little buggers seemed to have infiltrated the Separatist base on their own. It was almost funny, actually, imaging the little critters annoying the clankers.

Comet looked at you, his head titled. His bucket shielded his facial expressions, but Wolffe was almost certain that Comet was looking at you like you said that the porgs were rancors or something equally wild. “Those are porgs?”

“It’s a reference to something on the foliage app,” Sinker said. He looked at you for confirmation. “Right?”

“It’s called Vine,” Wolffe grunted. When he looked back at you, he saw a smile on your face. His heart stuttered. (Why? You smiled all the time. It was almost annoying, how smiley you were.) “What?”

“You remembered. I thought you didn’t care when I babbled on about Earth things.”

“I neither have to care nor understand what you’re talking about to listen to you,” Wolffe said.

“I think you care,” you said. You bumped your shoulder against his. “You act like a big, strong wolf, but really you’re a sweet, little puppy. All bark, no bite.”

Wolffe barred his teeth, snarling at you, but it did little to stop the laughter echoing throughout the Wolfpack. You lifted your chin, smiling widely at him. Then, you raised your arm, your hand resting on top of his bucket, before you tapped it once, twice—pat, pat!

The Wolfpack’s laughter turned into near howls. Comet nearly doubled over. Booster slung an arm around your shoulder, tugging you closer to him. A spark rose in Wolffe’s chest. He wasn’t sure what he was more upset by—your teasing or one of his brothers touching you.

“Warthog, Y/N, go find the control room and extract the information we need. The rest of us will deal with the clankers,” Wolffe grunted, trying to stamp out his frustration as they neared the control room in the Separatist base.

He had no right to be upset, after all. Why would he? You were another member of his squad. You were a friend. That was it. Surely, there had to be some other reason that Wolffe was so bothered by this. Maybe it had something to do with it being so long since they were on leave. Maybe he was just missing companionship in general, and that was making him feel things toward you. You were, after all, the only woman he saw on a day to day basis. Yes. That’s what it was. It was nothing personal.

…Right?

Wolffe kept his focus on scouting ahead, ignoring the laughter from his brothers. As he put some distance between himself and you, Comet jogged up to join him. Kriff. This wasn’t going to be good.

His younger brother bumped his shoulder against Wolffe’s, and practically crowed, “Oh, Wolffe! You’re such a little puppy!”

“Watch it,” Wolffe growled. His grip on his blaster tightened, his knuckles turning white. “Focus on the mission.”

Sinker laughed. “C’mon, vod, how can we take you seriously when you’re all bark, no bite?”

“Oh, lay off him,” Boost said. Wolffe wanted to believe his brother was on his side, but Boost was, perhaps, probably the worst about teasing him. He knew Wolffe long enough to know all the ways to get under his skin, and he always took full advantage of it. “He just cares so much, he doesn’t know what to do with himself!”

Wolffe stomped ahead, feeling something akin to a petulant child, as his brothers’ laughter echoed around him. Why did they have to make this something it wasn’t? Why did they act like there was something there?

But, why was there this…uneasy feeling settling over him? Wolffe’s hand dropped to his comm. You hadn’t said anything for a long time. Why was that? Usually, he couldn’t get you to shut up. You always had some sort of commentary, whether it be those ridiculous Earth references or it be you just babbling on about whatever it was you were doing at the moment.

“Y/N, do you copy?” he asked into his comm.

Silence.

Panic settled deep in his chest. He repeated the question a second, then a third, time. He never got a response.

“Warthog, is Y/N with you? She’s not answering her comm.”

“Uhh…”

Wolffe almost preferred the silence. An unsure answer…Well, that usually meant there had been some sort of trouble. And if you were caught in that trouble…Wolffe shuddered at the thought. You were part of his squad. You were someone he was supposed to look out for. Wolffe wasn’t sure if he could stand it if something happened to you. He didn’t want to lose another member of his squad.

But…Well, it went deeper than that, didn’t it? If something happened…If he never got to see you smile again, if he never got to hear you laugh, if he never was left scratching his head at some strange thing you said, Wolffe’s life would feel incomplete. He would miss you. He would more than miss you. He would tear apart the entire galaxy if it meant getting revenge on whoever would hurt a hair on your head.

“Yes or no, trooper?” Wolffe barked.

“Well, she was just here, sir. And now…she’s not.”

“What the kark is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know! I just looked up and she was gone!”

“Well, find her!” Wolffe snapped.

As Wolffe turned to look for you, too, he shot at a couple of clankers that had rounded the corner before taking off in search of you. Kriff. Was he the only one whose brain fully formed? Why the hell would you just wander off like that? Why the hell wouldn’t Warthog immediately report that? Why the hell didn’t Warthog keep a closer eye on you? Anything could happen out here!

“What’s wrong?” Comet asked, firing at a clanker, as he saw Wolffe double back. “Are we retreating?”

“Warthog lost Y/N,“ he growled.

“Damn. Better go find your girl then,” Comet said.

“She’s not—just, watch my six, okay?”

Thankfully, he didn’t need to go far. As he neared the control room, he saw blaster fire and a clanker fall, then heard your voice as you said, “There ya go, baby. Evil droid is all gone!”

“What the kriff do you think you’re doing?” Wolffe asked when he got nearer.

“Was saving this little fella,” you said. You were cradling the porg in your arms as if it were a baby. When you looked up at Wolffe, your eyes were wide, your lips in a pout. He fought the urge to reach out, grab you by the face, and kiss you until you couldn’t breathe. “Can we keep him, please? He could be the mascot of the 104th!”

“…I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask that.”

“He’s just a baby! Say hi, baby!” you cooed. You lifted the porg, which squawked in Wolffe’s face.

Wolffe reached out, grasping your arm in his hand, and began tugging you away. “C’mon, we got what we needed. Let’s get outta here.”

“But the baby—”

“…Take it up with the General.” Wolffe paused, then took a moment to look you over, make sure that you didn’t earn any injuries in your impromptu rescue mission. “And, Y/N…?”

“Yes?”

“…don’t ever go silent on me like that again.”

A smile tugged at your lips. “Even if it means you have to listen to my silly little Earth references?”

Wolffe almost held back, almost didn’t say what he was thinking. But, well…He really didn’t like it when he thought something had happened to you. And so he said, “I would rather hear your strange references than never hear from you again.”

And he meant every word.

116 notes · View notes

porgthespacepenguin · 7 months ago

Note

For the Writers Truth & Dare Ask Game, I choose 🐝

Great ask, nonny!

🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

Ooooh, boy. This could take a few hours. 😄 Alright, so this can in no way, shape or form be an exhaustive list, but ...

@essence-stealer World-class beta, dearest friend, adopted sibling, and all around a truly wonderful person. I'd *never* have completed NEWTS without their support. Fact. You're the best, darling.

@why-its-kai Whenever I feel down about lack of comments or whatever, I go re-read one of Kai's and I immediately feel better. 10/10 would befriend again and again and again if we were stuck in a time-loop.

@predawnite Well, let's just say a certain fic wouldn't be what it is without Dawn. *coughs in KW* Also they have the absolute best freaking prompts, bar none -- an inspiration to us all. And a truly cool person to know, as well. *high-five*

@celestialholz My fandom wife, who somehow still likes me even though she's been straying into BG3 fandom and I have... not. AND WHO MADE ME PLAY POKEMON AND GET TENDONITIS (I wish I was joking). Write Reduction and I might forgive you (joking, joking -- or AM I)

@mrporg My actual, RL, bona fide, patiently long-suffering spouse, who has been putting up with me for a very, very, very long time and now has to endure me on Tumblr too. Talk about supportive. Mwa! <3

Let's not forget:

@dustydahorse (the pinkest and awesomest of little bros)

@lordlexion and @voiid-vagabond (their comments single-handedly kept me posting NEWTS even when I wanted to give up -- fact -- and they're both awesome)

@anzstrek, @ellewood117, Bonesy, and all the others on the Qcard server -- you guys are the best <3

And lastly a wonderfully skilled artist friend of mine who I'm 100% sure will prefer to remain unnamed (but you know who you are!).

Here's a link to the Ask Game if anyone wants to keep playing!

#writers truth and dare #porg answers

18 notes · View notes

ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask · 7 months ago

Note

"Thank you, I really hate it."

"Who's at your house right now?"

"The devil knows I tried."

Any for whoever you like! (Don't feel like you have to use all of them unless you want to!)

This took me a while to finally put some time together, but here we go! In honor of the season, I went with all Star Wars characters.

All prompts are taken from this list! Feel free to send me more!

"Thank you, I really hate it."

"So? What do you think?"

She looked so happy. So proud of the decorations she had somehow managed to string up around his office without him realizing. It was clear that she had worked hard on it. He didn't have it in him to tell her that it was completely out of place in a marshal commander's office.

"It looks... great," Fox finally answered.

Riyo laughed, the sound clear and clean and bright. It was probably his favorite sound. "You can be honest, Fox," she said, leaning forward to wrap her hands around his arm and lean her head on his shoulder. "I went overboard, didn't I?"

Fox started to shake his head no because he didn't have it in him to tell her that he didn't love anything she'd ever done. Because, as Thorn kept reminding him, he was entirely useless when it came to one Senator Riyo Chuchi.

Her hand caught the side of his face mid-motion. "It's okay," she said with a sweet smile, pressing her perfect lips against the corner of his mouth. "I don't even like it. It's too much."

Fox sighed. He ran a gloved hand through his hair. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "I really hate it."

Riyo laughed again. "I know," she said, kissing him again. Then she pulled away, looking out at the display skeptically. She then turned toward him, wearing a hopeful grin. "So... help me take it down?"

"Who's at your house right now?"

"Bly," Aayla Secura said, rubbing her eyes. She checked the chronometer beside her bed to confirm that it was, in fact, the middle of the night. For some reason her commander had called her and his small holographic avatar was fully kitted in armor.

"Sorry for the late call, General," Bly said in his typical no-nonsense attitude. "We've received orders from the Jedi Temple. We're..." he trailed off, eyes going wide in surprise when an arm wrapped around Aayla's waist in her bed.

The clone trooper grinned like a man who had just caught his little sister out past curfew. "General," he said in a playfully reproachful tone, "there wouldn't happen to be someone in your quarters with you, would there?"

Aayla sighed tiredly, pinching the bridge of her nose. In spite of the awkwardness of the situation, she found her body instinctively snuggling into the warm figure behind her. "I'll... I'll be up to the bridge in a few minutes," she groaned, ignoring the commander's teasing question.

"Of course, Ma'am," Bly said, grinning like the Loth-cat that ate the Porg. He leaned forward to end the call but paused for just a moment. "Tell General Fisto I say 'hello,'" he added. Then he ended the call before she had a chance to protest.

Aayla twisted on her small bed to bring herself face-to-face with her companion. "You're ridiculous," she muttered, her tone gentle in spite of her terse words. She knew that Bly was never going to let her live it down.

It wasn't even like anything had happened... she and Kit had finally had an excuse to see each other. They stayed up late catching up, and she wasn't going to make him return to his own ship when he was half-asleep. It wasn't her fault that her quarters only had one viable option for sleep furniture.

It also wasn't her fault that her fellow Jedi's arms felt so right wrapped around her throughout the night.

"Sorry," Kit replied without even a hint of apology in his voice. He smiled - not his signature smile for which he was known, but a small, intimate grin that he reserved only for her - as she ran a finger along his jawline.

His deep, dark eyes fluttered open and caught hers, and for a moment she forgot what she had been annoyed about. Unfortunately for them, time was never something they had much of.

"Duty calls," she sighed, sadly pulling herself out of his grip. He playfully held onto her for just a moment, and she couldn't help imagining a different life - one in which they spent lazy mornings in bed, and she could allow herself to be drawn in by the almost irresistible pull of his warm arms indefinitely.

Then they both rolled out of bed and tried to make themselves look presentable. They had work to do.

"The devil knows I tried."

Derek "Hobbie" Klivian was a great pilot. He had flown through some of the most gripping battles of the Rebellion's short history, and was an Ace several times over. He was a member of the Rebellion's most decorated squadron, and that was by no accident.

Unfortunately, as good a pilot as Hobbie Klivian may be, he seemed to be even better at crashing.

This last time, though... he'd been almost sure that it was going to be his last. Rogue Squadron was running defense for the ground troops fleeing the Imperial walkers. It was a losing battle. They knew that going in... all that mattered was that the transports had made it out.

The soldiers on the ground weren't making it out fast enough. That lead walker was tearing them up. Hobbie's T-47 wasn't going to limp back to the staging area... it had taken too much damage already. But it could help them.

"Be ready to eject," Hobbie growled back to his gunner as he spun the speeder around. Ommis said something back, but Hobbie wasn't listening. He was lining up the perfect shot.

The lead AT-AT seemed to figure out what he was doing. He grinned smugly. You're too late. He jammed the throttle to maximum, the craft shaking as the walker turned its guns on them.

"Canopy, canopy, canopy!" Hobbie cried out, slapping the eject control. The cockpit canopy burst up and back, and then both he and Ommis were blasted into the air behind it. It was close... very close. Two seconds after they ejected, their crippled craft smashed through the cockpit of the walker.

Hobbie had only a moment to grin and enjoy his victory. Then a chunk of debris collided with his helmet, and everything went black.

---

The gentle whirs and beeps of a medbay were by now a familiar sound to Derek Klivian. They practically felt like home. Still, he was surprised when his eyes opened again.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," cried out the overly excited voice of his squadmate Wes Janson. "You gave us a scare on that one." The other pilot reached out and roughly shook Hobbie's shoulder.

"Let go of him, Wes," he heard another pilot say. "Your going to shake his brain loose... what's left of it, anyway." When Hobbie managed to focus his eyes he found Wedge Antilles grinning down at him. "Janson's right, though," the squadron leader said, crossing his arms over his chest. "You just about got yourself this time."

"Devil knows I tried," Hobbie replied, groaning as he forced himself into a sitting position. "How's Kesin?"

"Complaining, as usual," Wes laughed. "You should see the mileage he's getting out of the medical staff. He really thinks he's going to get one of them to fall in love with him this time."

Hobbie grinned in spite of the dull throbbing pain he felt in his... everything. "Can't blame a man for trying." He caught sight of one of the nurses walking by his door and grinned wider. "I might take a shot at it myself."

Wedge rolled his eyes. "Incorrigible. All of you," he said, shaking his head like a disappointed father. He couldn't keep the smirk off his lips as he turned to Wes. "Let's go, Janson," he sighed, throwing an arm around the other man's shoulders. "Looks like we need to give Hobbie a chance to speak with the locals."

As his squadmates left the room, Hobbie laid his head back. It was surreal, surviving yet another crash. He was beyond making a pastime out of it... the words 'crash' and 'Klivian' were practically synonyms at this point.

Still, he reasoned with a shrug, it could be worse. Besides... everybody's got to have a hobby.

#star wars #prompt games #my writing #this stuff is all so corny and i'm not sorry for any of it #commander fox #riyo chuchi #foxiyo #aayla secura #kit fisto #commander bly #kit fisto x aayla secura #hobbie klivian #wes janson #wedge antilles

13 notes · View notes