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It’ll Be Alright

Summary: Din sees the person he’s been longing for...

Song inspired: Sign of the Times by Harry Styles, I highly recommend listening to it while you read!

Pairing: Din Djarin x GNReader

WC: 1.2k

Warnings: Death. Angst✨

Masterlist

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Din didn’t know where he was.

The cold cabin felt familiar, yet unknown at the same time. The place lingered with a chill that slipped up his spine, making the hairs on his neck stand. The wooden log walls that looked crafted from hand stood tall. Upon them lingered pictures that seemed so familiar, but he couldn't quite make out the faces of them. An old red couch, worn out from the loving use of it stood in the center, placed upon a detailed carpet. Children's toys scared the floor in front of it, one’s he’s seen before yet can’t quite remember where.

He knew this place.

“Well, look who's home” his eyes pulled from the view up to the most beautiful one.

In the arch of the doorway stood the most beloved thing that ever walked into his life. You looked as lively as ever, the same smile that brought him to his knees. Maker, weren’t you a gift to this universe. One he doesn’t understand how he’s had the ultimate pleasure of sharing the same space as someone so delicate and kind; you were truly ethereal. You are everything to him. The stars shined brighter with you around, the sun felt warmer with you at his side.

But...everything felt so cold now.

The corner of his mouth twitched, your smile contagious as always he couldn’t help but match it.

He hung his head, feeling all but worthy to be around you. “Mesh’la” he hushes out as quietly as ever, the words shy. His eyes flicker up, hearing you approach him. Even through the darkness of the visor, he saw everything so brightly. The world was nothing but bright because of you.

Stopping just before him, you gave him a knowing look. Eyes twinkling at the sight of the man that was the reason the world turned for you.

“Riduur…” your words are as soft as the heart that beats for you. “May I?” the question makes him let out a relieved sigh.

“Please” he pleaded, leaning into you.

Reaching up, laying the palm of your hands gently on the cheeks of the helmet you raise it. Your husband's face slowly comes into view, the man you’ve loved bare out in front of you. His brows furrowed, the pinch of his forehead making him look as handsome as ever. His eyes bounced around your face, struggling to comprehend how you’re standing in front of him

Placing a hand on the roughly creased cheek of the man before your, grounding him to the planet you're on now. He squeezes his eyes shut, savoring the touch of his spouse that he’s longed for so long. It's been long. Far too long.

A tear escaped his eye, the only way he could fully voice his emotions to you right now. Breathing out his fears and unanswered questions, “My Riduur, I-I don’t-” you shushed him gently, the tip of your thumb tracing the creases on his cheek.

“Don’t cry for me, my love. Everything is alright.” your voice wavers, yet the soft smile graces your lips.

He shakes his head almost painfully, “It’s not-” “It will be. Maybe not today, but one day.” you assure. He lets out the smallest of sobs, his chest shaking in despair

“Please come home. Come home with me. Come home to our son.” he begs, words pleading for you to take his hand and go back with him. He’s pleading the universe, the maker, whoever would listen to his dire words to let you come home.

“Din...I am home” you motion to the cabin. He shakes his head in confusion, “W-What?”

“This is my home. It’s our home, the home you built for us. But...for only when your time comes” you assure as gently as possible.

Din's eyes widen at your words when everything suddenly clicks for him. This was his home. The home he imagined and spoke of for so long, the one he promised. The home he always wanted to have with you. Yet never did.

He takes a step closer to you, going up to grasp your wrists “I want to be here with you-I want to stay, please let me stay Riduur” you couldn’t help the tears that crept up behind your eyes at the sound of your husband's sobbing pleas.

You shake your head, biting your lip in an attempt to muffling your own sobs. “...It’s not time for us yet. You have such a life ahead of you. A life so beautiful, that I can’t wait for you to have. Even if I’m not there at your side, I always am. I’m with you till the end and after.” Your words assuring and laced with the same amount of love you always had for him.

Din squeezes his eyes shut in an attempt to stop the array of tears that lost the war, he didn’t know what else to do. He can’t bring you home. He can’t bring you back. All he can do is worship and savor the time he has in the golden moment.

“C-Can I just hold you Riduur. One last time? Please?” he pleads, his brown eyes begging for you to be in his arms.

“It won’t be our last, Din” He pulls you into his chest, the sudden loss of armor allowing you to feel your skin against his.

His hand pulls your head into his chest, grasping the back of your head gently. He breathes you in, relishing the moment he wished he could have had so long ago. The cabin stood in silence, soft sobs from the mourning couple flowing through it.

Din didn’t feel cold anymore, he feels the warmth he hasn’t felt in a long time. He pulls away briefly only to pull you back in but this time to place his lips on yours. It was simply breathtaking, he was in the air. Floating in the love that has always made him feel like he was soaring in the clouds. The lips that drank him in since day one were as soft as he remembered. Even with the tears that mixed in, it was just as tender. His hands gripping your back, attempting to memorize your touch till the day he does see you again. You pull away gently, letting your lips hover over his, his eyes still squeezed shut at the feeling he hasn’t felt since you left.

“We’ll meet again, Riduur” you breathe out.

Opening his eyes, the sight in front of him was no longer the one he longed for. He moves around in the stiff seat of the pilot's chair, before stilling. He lets out a groan, that slowly turns to a dried sob his chest empty of any sparing of emotions. The green child that’s settled on his chest cooed, looking upon his father with glossy eyes. He was crying too. His tiny green hand was placed on his face, attempting to give him the comfort that he needs. Yet, Din knows nothing will ever provide him comfort. Not when he knows your ghost lingers the walls of the crest.

He gives the child a tight smile.

“I miss them too, kid”

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Tags: @no-droids-on-sunday @kiss-evans @theoutsidelandhere @generation-zero @phoenixhalliwell @godohammers @apples-of-february @chicken-nugget-puta @chicken-ona-stick @strangelittlenobody @seasonschange-butpeopledont @din-damn-djarin @wille-zarr @lovelyasfcuk @autumnleaves1991-blog @flightlessangelwings @cosmichearts8 @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @rosiefridayrogersunday @cyarikashakira @itspauvr @lunarthoughts @lovelikecalamity @pedro4ever @lv7867 @remmysbounty @emesispo @moonlit-djarin @missstef23 @dad-din-djarinnn n @shadowsoundeffects13 @dindadjarin @hereforthesunrise @mouthymandalorianalso @kiwi-the-first @beefcakebarnes @castiel-barnes @softdin @jackgrzs @computeringturtle @orneryscandallousandevil @snow30285 @hallway5 @browneyes-djarin @greeneyedblondie44 @imabeautifulbutterfly-blog1 @spideysimpossiblegirl

In my silence I adored you

*Avenger's Tower Fanfic*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Hey girl, what-cha doing down there? Dancing alone while I live right above you; I can hear your music playing; I can feel your body swaying

It didn't take a super soldier to hear the music that came out of your apartment. However, the one above you did understand the lyrics, not like most of the others that lived in the tower. He didn't mind it, sometimes, it became a soothing thing when the nightmares woke him up. The vibrations of the music and lyrics gave him was a micro-confirmation that he was no longer in the Soviet Union. No longer trapped under any ice.

"Okay, but how come you can't go one day without it?" Sam asked about your music during breakfast. You shrugged, "I have my space. It mostly stays in my space. Just like Redwing." Bucky snickered. Sam slightly aggressively turned towards his best friend-enemy man. "You live above her! What are your thoughts?" Bucky was slightly started by the question. "I-I don't mind it." You stuck your tongue out at Sam, putting your dishes in sink, and walked away. "You said you only like forties music." Sam accused as soon as you were out of ear shot. Bucky avoided eye contact before he cleared his throat, "I have to train with Steve."

One floor below me, you don't even know me, I love you

When that and a combination of other things didn't work, keep falling back into night terrors, Bucky would sit in front of his glass windows, curtains pulled back. At first, his eyes would wander the city lights. Eventually, his eyes would shift down below and see your shadow swaying and dancing to the music that was nearly never ending. It was a constant, consistency made reality easier to believe in. You were starting to become that in Bucky's word, even though you never would've known. He never mentioned it.

If you look out your window tonight, pulling the string with the note that's attached to my heart; Read how many times I saw you, how in my silence I adored you.

Sure, Bucky and you met occasionally during missions and Avengers' (aka Tony Stark's) parties. However, neither of you ever got beyond glances, brief introductions, and the incredibly rare argument-- sorry polite conversation-- that Steve, Sam, or Nat would drag the pair of you into. Both of you would roll your eyes at the dragger and their "opponent." Plus, the pair of you would almost always be against whatever Sam was arguing. Bucky appreciated the team effort from you. You were also a bit of a history buff which sometimes led to his ears pricking up to some type of familiarity that he could confidently nod along with or it would help him connect the dots with events that didn't include the Winter Soldier.

It took one of these little rantings of knowledge you had, Steve and Sam saw the captivated look that Bucky distantly gave you. They both also knew it wasn't just the words coming out of your mouth that Bucky was interested in, either. The pair of men shared an look. They knew their mission.

"Alright boys, it's been fun." You said getting up, heading towards your apartment. "Don't have too much fun without me." You waved as you hit the stairs.

The duo of men encircled Bucky. "You have a problem." Same stated as if it was obvious and something much worse than actuality. "Sam-" Steve tried to soften the blow. "No, he is in love with that girl and he hasn't said more than five words to her." Sam insisted. Bucky gave them both a confused stare. "Y/n, Buck, we can tell." Steve cleared up. Bucky's face went to complete denial. "No, I don't."

"Those eyes you gave her earlier tell a different story, Buck." Steve softly argued. Bucky groaned and put his hands in his face. "So what if I do? She's living a happy life...why.....why should I enter it more just to ruin it?" Sam and Steve gave each other soft looks. However, both of them were not going to give up that easily. "You're different now. You've said it yourself, you're not the Winter Soldier anymore." Sam stated. "Even if that's true...who said that she's going to....want me back." Doubt filled Bucky's entire body and mind. The pair of men were not going to change his mind in one night.

Only in my dreams did that wall between us come apart

Another night, Bucky added to looking down at your shadow. He wanted to go down and dance with you. Over seventy years ago, Bucky wouldn't waste another second to do. He would've swept you off your feet, literally. He would hold you close during the slower songs, inhaling your scent. Softly kissing your forehead, cheeks, lips... Bucky heavily sighed out loud, walking away from the window.

Oh my darlin', knock three times on the ceiling if you want me; twice on the pipe if the answer is no.

Sam and Steve showed up at your door. You gave them both a confused. "Come in...stop lurking at my door." You responded, letting them in. "So, how long have you liked Bucky?" Sam got straight to the point. You scoffed and slouched in one of your chairs. "Who said-" "Y/n, you never mentioned your knowledge about your so-called fascination with the 1930s before your first mission with him." Steve confronted you. You shrugged, "A girl can learn new things." Sam rolled his eyes. "They're both impossible, Steve." You sat up a little. "What do you mean by both of us?" For the third time that night, Sam and Steve shared a smirk and an idea.

Oh my sweetness *knock, knock, knock* means you'll meet me in the hallway; twice on the pipe *clang, clang* means you ain't gonna show*

You hummed the song you left playing in your room as you approached Bucky's door. You took a deep breath before knocked with the beat that Bucky could perfectly hear from your apartment below. He hesitantly answered. Then saw you, a small smile etched across his face. "It means that I want you, and that I want to meet you in the hallway-- granted next time it'll be on the ceiling but-" Your breath of words was stopped short by Bucky pulling you into his apartment.

~~ Sam looked at Steve, stifling a laugh, "There isn't really a pipe for her to say no to."

A Work of Art

Pairing: The Mandalorian/ Din Djarin x Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: @mandowhorian posted a prompt that came across my dash and goddamn it, I had to write it.  Why does my brain do this to me when I got another fic to finish?  

Also @amarvelousmandalorian wrote a ditty that gave me the jump I needed.  Won’t ever be as good as some people’s but whatever, I had to get it out on paper, so to speak.

Reminder:  I ain’t ever seen Pedro Pascal in FUCK ALL, I’m just coming up with this as I go along, using imdb.com, wiki, and 84,000 tabs I got open to plan out this shit.  I also write soft versions of his characters so if you’re craving asshole vibes, I ain’t got any but my own to offer.

Tags:  @zeldasayer , @romanticgumchewer, @beskars​ , @coolmaybelateruniverse , @the-feckless-wonder, @lavenderl3mons , @pascalisthepunkest , @mandoandyodito​ , @randomness501 , @fioccodineveautunnale  

—***—

When she heard footsteps coming up the walkway, she rose from her chair to open the door.  She had just finished setting the table up for a meal, wondering if the man coming to her was going to enjoy her baked goods.  At least the house smelled of warm sugar rather than the bitterness of oil paint that usually permeated the space.

“Mandalorian!”  She called, waving at him with a large smile on her face.  She made a small note that his arms were empty of the little green being he had taken under his wing.  “I didn’t think you’d reach me by sundown, the rains have made the forest roads a little treacherous.  Come in, the tea is almost ready!”

He stopped in his tracks, confusion radiating off him and she laughed. She was his bounty and she was inviting him in for tea?  As he began to walk again, his steps were less certain as if he expected her to ambush him.  He kept his hand near his blaster and continued up the stone pathway.  

When he entered, the room seemed to shrink to half its size and for a moment, the Mandalorian felt awkward and unsure.  He mentally berated himself for letting these odd thoughts invade his mind.  She was the damn bounty and who cares if he was practically a bull in a china shop in her home?  She was coming with him and it wouldn’t be hers for much longer.

“Where is the little one?  I hope you haven’t left him on the ship unattended.  I thought you’d have learned not to do that.  No matter, we can make up a basket for you to take back.  I’m sure you hardly have anything homemade in your storehouse.”  She busied herself preparing plates of food and motioned for him to sit as she poured tea into heavy cups made of local wood.  He didn’t move, completely unnerved by her comments.  In the blink of an eye, he drew his blaster and pointed it at her.  She merely smiled and his irritation grew.

“How do you know about the kid?”  He growled at her, the hairs on his neck standing on end.  What the hell was going on?  Nothing about this seemed right to him.

“Exactly how I know about you, Din.  And why you’re here.  Please sit. I know you won’t eat with me around, but we can at least chat a bit.”  When he didn’t move, she looked at him pointedly.  “You sat on this job for four days even though you knew it could be done in twenty minutes.  Sit down.”

She had him there.  He sat down with a large thump and she worried he would break the wooden chair, sending himself sprawling into the stone wall behind him.  She giggled a bit at the image, wondering if he’d knock himself senseless in that helmet of his.  He pointed the blaster at her again.

“Talk, bounty.”

“I am Force sensitive, much like your little one and I know the Empire wishes to use us to regain power in the galaxy.  That’s why you were sent after us.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t tell me how you know me or my name.”  He still sounded hard, but he wasn’t growling at he any longer.  Only a select few knew his name and no one since Mandalore had fallen had spoken it directly to him until Moff Gideon said it on Nevarro.  And now this woman was speaking his name as sure as if they had been paired all their lives.

“I’ve always known you.”  Behind the mask, Din’s jaw dropped and his hold on the blaster wobbled a bit.

“How?”

“The Force.  Come with me.”  When she rose, she skirted the table and laid a hand on his shoulder.  Even through the layers of cloth and beskar, he could feel her warmth.  He angled his helmet to look at her before standing up.  He towered over her, his suit of armor crowding her out.  She turned and walked through a small door and motioned for him to come in.

When entered he stopped and in his state of shock, the blaster fell from his hand.  He was surrounded by… himself.  The walls covered in images of his face in different mediums – oil, chalk, crayon, pastels, acrylics, ink, and even embroidery.  No two pictures were the same and he slowly began to walk around the studio, taking it all in.  

He saw his face as a child before it went under the helmet and there in a pencil drawing was his face after a night out with Ran’s crew.  He looked up and saw a small portrait of himself holding the kid with the mudhorn insignia behind them.  All around him his face – his history – was charted on these walls.  Goosebumps broke out on his skin as he turned, seeking answers.

“When was I was ten, the Force began to grant me visions and sight.  By the time I was fourteen, I saw your face for the first time.  I was so in tune with your essence that I begun to draw you, to try and figure out who you were to me.”

“What did you discover?”

“You’re my soulmate.”

“Your what?!”  He barked out a laugh, utterly shocked at her words.  Soulmate?  People really believed that tripe?  He shook his head.

“How else to do you explain any of this?”  He shrugged until she pointed to a picture on the mantle.  He walked over and his breath hitched in his throat.  It was his face on Nevarro, right before he nearly died.  It was a harsh painting, dark with heavy blots of paint.  The image was almost grainy, and he could feel pain radiating from it, but he wasn’t entirely sure if it were his or hers.  He shuttered as he turned away.

“I watched you nearly die, Din.  I felt it in my very core as your life force leaked from you and a part of me was taken with it.”  She walked up to him and raised her hand. She tapped the back of his helmet, right over where the scar was.  “Here. Right here is where my life nearly ended had it not been for a droid.”

There was no way for her to have known what transpired on Nevarro nor where his scar was. And yet, she did and when she touched his helmet, it was as if there was no metal between them.  He could almost feel her soft fingertips along his skin.

“I do not know why the Force thought a Mandalorian would be good for me. But it did.  And I have been haunted for years as you were reckless with Ran.  I watched with pride as you became the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy.  My heart clenched when you showed what a good man you are Din Djarin when you went back for that little one and saved his life. And I know you have thought about me.”

“What?  I’ve never seen you before in my life and certainly I haven’t felt anything like you’re describing.”  His goosebumps were turning to shivers that he tried to ignore – little fissures of truth coming out of the darkness to shame him.  This was too weird, and he shook his head as if to clear everything.  A simple bounty, that was all this was supposed to be.

“Give me your hand.”  She looked at him and he looked down at her.  When he didn’t move, she asked again.  This time he complied and held it out to her.  She looked at him while removing his glove, exposing his calloused hand to her. She laid her own soft hand on his and closed her eyes.  Din stood rock still as he could feel her in his mind, in his soul.  Her voice sounded in his brain.

“Din.  Remember.” His eyes closed and suddenly a rush of memories came to him.  Gut-wrenching tears as he laid dying.  A smile that rang with laughter that he heard on the wind after receiving his sigil.  A horrified gasp as he shot IG-11.  A small caress filled with warmth as he laid in the Razor Crest while tracking a bounty on Hoth.  A voice telling him to go the other way as he got lost in the jungles of Byss.  A pair of eyes staring at him with love as he renounced Ran’s crew and left.  Even further back to days on Mandalore when a girl made eyes at him that he didn’t return because the specter of a face in his mind told him to wait for her.

He gasped loudly as these broken images formed together into her. His bounty.  She had always been there and yet she hadn’t.  He opened his eyes to watch her staring at him with a calm look on her face.  Those eyes, her voice, that face.  He knew something about her bounty puck photo seemed familiar to him and yet he couldn’t ever place it.  Now he knew why.

“How is it that you see me fully, but I couldn’t see you?”  His voice was quiet, and he curled his hand around hers.  Her smiled returned.

“You’re not Force sensitive to tune into the connection.  But it was there for you, and it showed itself when it could or when your guard was down enough for you to feel.”  She stopped smiling, brows knitting in concern.  “Are you going to turn me in?”

“Hell no.”  She let out a laugh.

“So, you’re just going to go around collecting Force-sensitive beings and protect us all from the Empire, then?”  He stood there and dropped his head back, groaning.  Oh Maker, he was in it now.

“Yeah, sounds like it.”  He pulled his head forward to look at her.  “I don’t know what this is between us, but I need more answers.”

“It’s a lot information, though, Din.  It’ll take some time.”

“Come with me.  We’ll make the time.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”  He knew that despite the helmet that she could see his grin.  He knew because her smile looked just like his.

Burnt out // Rex x Reader

For the person who requested the breakup imagine, Tumblr ate your request: 

Rex x Fem!Reader

Trigger Warning: Breakup

“We were a perfect match. Maybe that’s why we burned out.”

It started subtly. Rex didn’t call or message as much when he was away. Whereas he used to call every chance he got, you were now lucky to receive a short message saying, “sorry can’t talk, I’m ok.”

No, ‘see you soon’ or ‘I love you’ attached, but you brushed it off thinking, maybe it’s just a long mission or he’s just really busy. Then it leaked into his mannerisms when he was home, he would spend more time are the barracks and fewer times with you. When he was with you, it was awkward and tense. Comfortable silences were replaced with tense ones. Little things that used to seem cute to him, now left him frustrated or annoyed. He used to love how you hummed while you cleaned and how your feet shuffled when you woke up. Now, instead of small smiles, you were met with:

“(Y/N), I’m sorry, but I could really use some quiet.” and “Pick up your feet, the entire building can hear you.”

So, you made the adjustments, no realizing how you stopped feeling completely comfortable around him. And then you realized, the same thing was happening to you. You used to think it was adorable how he stole blankets, and how he didn’t help with dishes because he never learned how. Now, it drove you up the wall.  This was how you felt on first dates and when you have important house guests, not how you should feel around the person who you were in love with. Sometimes, it seemed like y’all would argue about nothing. Nights of snippy comments because someone left the light on. When you kissed him goodbye, he didn’t kiss back. Honestly, you didn’t know what happened to the two of you, but nevertheless, you waited for it to blow over. 

Then, one fateful night, in an effort to not spend another tense night on the couch, not actually watching the news, y’all agreed to go to 79′s with the rest of the 501st. That’s when it made sense. 

The two of you walked in, and when you looked up at him, he had that look of awe that he used to reserve only for you. But now, you watched him throw it across the room at an all too familiar togruta. That’s when you understood. He had fallen in love with someone else, and out of love with you. You spent the entire night deep in unhappy thought, but Rex never noticed- only occasionally ordering you more drinks, not noticing the four other still full glasses in front of you. He was too busy laughing at Ahsoka’s jokes. And God bless, you tried to hate her, but she was so nice and amazing, it was impossible to be mad at her. And it was hard to be mad at Rex for falling for her.  So now you were sitting in a booth, just sad. 

Finally, you had enough and you asked Fives and Echo to let you out of the booth. They both flashed you looks of concern, but you gave them a small smile of reassurance. You were almost out of the door when Rex finally noticed you left. 

“She looked upset- you might wanna check up on her.” Echo suggested, watching the Captain crane his neck around to look for you. “She headed towards the door.”

“Yeah, Yeah, I’ll do that.” With that, he squeezed out of the booth and went out to find you. You were already a block away when he caught up with you. 

“(Y/N), what’s wrong, you left by yourself?” He asked, but made no move to grab your hand or hug you like he once might have. You sighed and crossed your arms, putting on a brave face. 

“Surprised you noticed. That you came.” You shrugged, it wasn’t snappy or accusatory, but just defeated. Rex knew what was coming.

“Of course, I came. (Y/N), what’s this about?” He was already puffing up for a fight, but you had left the ring a few hours ago. 

“Rex you’re not in love with me anymore. It’s obvious. And it’s ok, but please tell me so I can find someone who does love me like you did.” It came out as a plea, and Rex realized what you meant. His muscles tensed up defensively. 

“That’s not fair, (Y/N).” Was all he said, he eyes weren’t soft like usual. You shook your head and gave him a stare just as hard. 

“No. It’s completely fair.” You started, arms unfolding from your chest do gesture wildly, “Rex, if you’re still completely in love with me- like you were in the beginning- then please, help me work this out. But if not, then it’s unfair for both of us.”

Where there were once soft words and promises of forever, there were crossed arms, harsh words, and shattered promises. Rex knew this and only admitted it by letting his gaze drop to the ground. 

“I’m sorry.” It was soft and sincere and for the first time in a while, he actually looked sad to see you go. You just nodded, praying the tears would stay in until you were gone. 

“Ok then,” You paused and sniffled, Rex knew it wasn’t his place to wrap his arms around you anymore, but he always hated seeing you cry, “Take care of yourself, Rex.”

Rex watched you walk away for the last time, and just like that, it was over.  

Two months later: 

You spent quite a few weeks crying over him, but eventually, things got easier. Fives and Echo were the only ones who kept in touch with you, and they checked up on you, but you never saw Rex again. Soon, You started going on dates, or more accurately your best friends forced you on dates. Some of them were ok, and some of them were hilariously bad, but no one was quite like Rex. But you kept going on, and eventually, life was close to normal again- even if your apartment was quieter and colder than it once was. 

But occasionally, you would run into some of the older members of the 501st. You would flash a friendly smile and wave, but turn around and walk the other way to avoid an awkward conversation. They would wave back, remembering when their captain was so in love with you that he couldn’t think straight. Then, you realized when you lost Rex, you also lost a lot of amazing friends. Soon inside jokes turned into awkward waves and those turned into pretending you didn’t see them. 

And even worse, occasionally you’d catch a glimpse of someone who looked strikingly like Rex and your heart would stop. Then you would realize, this trooper had green armor and a similar haircut. But that didn’t stop the memories of love and laughter of the good times when you felt more love from a man worlds away, but it also tore open the wounds of the bad times, when you felt the loneliest when he was lying right beside you. 

After the war:

It might have seemed dramatic, but four months after the breakup, you decided to move. You chose one of the more developed planets in the outer rim and found work rather easily. No more Rex, no more memories, a fresh start, and it went well. 

But even then, when the war was over and the Empire rose from its ashes, rumors of the Jedi and the clones swirled and demanded to be heard- even in the outer rim. And every now and then, you couldn’t help but wonder what did happen to Rex, because somewhere in your heart you still loved him and always would. 

pajarito || javier peña x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: After a botched raid, you and Javi both need a cigarette. Sitting together on the sidewalk outside the embassy, you find out you both need each other too.

Pairings: Javier Peña x DEA Agent!Reader

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, friends to lovers | Word Count: 3k

Warnings: canon-typical violence, ptsd, smoking 

A/N: Somebody called for “local gruff DEA agent is secretly a softie with the girl he loves” with a side of angsty love confession? This one’s for you! ♡

“Javi. Cigarette.”

He cast you a sidelong glance as you sat next to him on the edge of the sidewalk, his gaze lingering only a moment before he reached into the pocket of his jacket and withdrew a pack of smokes. He handed you one, flicked his lighter on for you, and frowned at you.

“What?” you said around a drag. The nicotine immediately flooded your system, quieting some of the shaking in your hands that you were trying very hard to hide.

He shook his head. “Since when do you smoke?”

You held the cigarette between two fingers and pressed the heels of your palms against your eyes, warding off a headache.

“You’ve only known me for a few months, Javi,” you said. You’d started at the embassy a little over six months ago, put on Javi and Steve’s intelligence team by Ambassador Noonan. Though you stayed in the office at the embassy most of the time, you’d gotten to know both men very well. Perhaps too well, in Javi’s case.

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Too little too late (2/?)

Plot: Steve arrives in the future but he was off by a few years. After finding out where the reader lived, Steve sets on his way to win you back.

A/n I know these are short chapters but I promise it’ll get better. In the next chapter you’re going to find out how the reader and Marcus got together.

Part one

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It is currently 6:14 am where I am. I’m in the mid west of the USA. Crying over that fact that I will lose my rights as a woman. My husband who is also awake and getting ready for work. Can’t grasp the dread I feel.

Im terrified and I feel sick. I just wanted to have a home and maybe some kids. But that is definitely NOT going to happen. I’m terrified to have children now. I already can’t afford to live and it will be even worse.

I hope that the people who didn’t vote will get to know that their vote would’ve mattered.

My husband has in not so many words told me I’m being dramatic because I have been looking at visas to work in other countries. I already wanted to leave America. This bullshit just solidifies my want to leave.

(If anyone who is non American can give info on visas for your country it would be appreciated.)

On another note: ⤵️

This is the one and only time I’m coming back to post on tumblr. I stopped posting or wanting to post because there was a ton of fandom drama on this hellsite. (What’s new)

ANYWAY!

To my fellow Americans who are also terrified I’m with you and I’m here for a chat if you need someone to talk to. If you feel you can’t talk to anyone you can talk to me. I’m giving you the biggest hugs I have to offer!

We WILL get through this! I know it!

☆ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. it’s time to spread positivity! ☆ 😘

*unintelligible noises* I love you sm!!!!

La Belle et La Bete

Ghost!Ezra Prospect x F!Reader

Word Count: 5.7k 

Warnings: angst, mentions of death/poisoning, enemies to lovers, AU, cursing, brief mentions of NSFW, angst with a semi-happy ending, crying, lots of fluff

Summary: You’d been able to see ghosts for the entirety of your life, but the last thing you ever expected was to fall for one.

Beautiful ghost!Ezra fanart by @honestly-shite

You don’t remember when you began seeing the specters in your day to day life, believing them to be just oddly dressed people up until a certain point. You remember the day you realized that the people you saw were not living, however. You had pointed at a rather odd looking man in a top hat that towered over you, exclaiming to your mom about the funny hat. The man had smiled at you and given you a little wink, but your mother had gawked at you like you were the one with a two foot tall hat perched on your head. It became quickly apparent that you possessed a gift that those around you did not; a gift that you would have to keep a secret unless you had a wish to spend the rest of your days in an asylum.

They were everywhere, and the only way you could truly set them apart was the slight translucent quality to their skin and their often time-inappropriate clothing. As you grew older you realized that it was not, in fact, normal for adults to walk around in Victorian era garments, and for young men to be adorned in shiny metal armor.

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