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lavendermunson · 4 months

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i want you, bless my soul - eddie munson

from the candy cane box at leia's christmas tree farm

summary best friend au, with the prompt “So, um. That was something. Should we do that again?” for the one and only @onegirlmanytales thank you for requesting my love, I hope you like the direction I took and enjoy it so much!!

cw FLUFF. best friends to lovers. two oblivious idiots in love. r's first kiss. brief mention of insecurities. steve and robin cameo!

w.c 1.7k

“No one has ever kissed me… let’s just forget about it!”

You sigh, placing the freshly baked cookies on a beautiful porcelain bowl Eddie gave you last Christmas. Their scent calming every nerve your best friend decides to play with today. All of your friends are arriving in a couple of minutes for the annual Christmas party.

“You are telling me no one has ever kissed you under the rain?”

“Eddie please, just stop it”

“No one has ever kissed you under the moonlight!”

He tries to guess. You regret telling him about your first kiss. It hasn’t happened yet… but he thinks it has, he just thinks it was bad or embarrassing because you’ve never told him. And you tell him everything, he is your best friend.

“You are never going to guess, I'm tired of this now”

He chases you around your house, as you walk with the bowl of cookies in your hands. You place them on the coffee table of your living room, alongside all the other snacks and drinks to enjoy the night.

“I know! no one has ever kissed you under the mistletoe. That’s why you don’t have one”

Eddie thinks he hit the jackpot, smiling brightly at you.

“No one has ever kissed me, okay!” you snap, tired of his games. “I haven’t had my first kiss yet”

You throw your hands in the air, standing in front of him. Eddie was the only one who didn’t know about this. The rest of your friends know, because you know they weren’t going to laugh or make fun of you. But Eddie is capable of it, not because he is mean. His personality is just like that, he is the joke expert and the prank master. This was a serious topic to you, something that kept toying with your self-esteem.

Your arms fall to the side, your hands close on a fist, white knuckles and eyes shut trying to hide the embarrassment that’s eating you alive as you wait for Eddie to laugh at you and make a hundred jokes about this.

You wish the floor could swallow you whole.

Eddie notices the way you tense up, confessing the secret you’ve held for a long time. He thought there was some catch to it, but there wasn’t. Who the fuck can live without ever kissing your lips? he asks himself, when he has been dreaming about it since the first time he met you at the arcade.

You were babysitting the kids, holding their quarters for them as you paced around the sticky carpet. Back when Eddie’s ears got used to quieting down everything around him except your sweet voice.

He didn’t want to lose you, he could never. And he was sure he wasn’t your type, with your room having a Karate Kid poster and a picture of Michael Schoeffling ripped out of a magazine.

Missing the picture of Eddie Van Halen on your jewelry box, he knew your type was far away from him.

You were never going to like him, his friends would tease him about it. They would fill Eddie’s mind with ideas that tormented him before going to bed. You are way too out of his league.

He is happy with the best friend title because he gets the best friend treatment. He gets to hug you when you see him, cuddle with you on movie nights, and hang around his trailer all day. He would never trade your presence for anything, not a metal concert, not even the fame some rockstars get overnight.

For Eddie you are everything, you mean everything. His life is so much better with you around.

But he doesn’t laugh or start making a full comedy show, instead, you hear the thump of things falling out of his pockets. His lighter, a pack of cigarettes, previously chewed gum wrapped in a piece of paper, and his van keys. He empties his pockets trying to find what he has been looking for and when he finds it, he goes around your house looking for tape.

“What are you doing with that? no one is coming here to kiss me, only our friends”

“Well? m’lady. I doubt you want to spend another Christmas unkissed” He takes your hand, guiding you closer to him until you are both under the mistletoe. “This is how it works, you stand here, and as the rule says you kiss the person in front of you”

You watch as Eddie taps the branch with his finger. Pointing at it, then at him, and finally at you. You are exactly in the spot, you look at him. Begging him to kiss you.

You've thought about it for a while. What would it be like to kiss him? Not someone random, not a guy who coats your ears with sugar at work. Just Eddie.

The guy who sits on the edge of his bed, shirtless, and while his fingers are gentle with the strings of his guitar you can’t do anything else but admire. Trying to memorize all of his features and tattoo that scene on your head for the rest of your life.

The guy who asked you to color his tattoos, trusting your artistic eye and trying to kill time before the pizza got to his trailer. You asked for a rain check that night, knowing you’d lose your mind the second your fingers touched his bare chest.

“And who’s gonna kiss me?” you ask.

“Uhh, Jonathan?” Eddie asks, raising one of his eyebrows. Trying to question you to see who your type is.

“I pass”

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice cracks. If you passed at Jonathan, there’s a high chance you could say yes to Steve and he would fall to his knees, defeated.

“I don’t think so”

His brown eyes are wide open. Shit. Not even Steve?

“Let’s just enjoy our evening…” Unless you want to kiss me, you think. “Let’s forget about it”

You try to escape from the compromised positions, but your legs feel heavy as you step aside. You thought Eddie was going to kiss you.

When you try to escape, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls you back to him.

“Wait”

You feel a jolt of electricity, his touch being hard on you yet not hurting. His eyes looking for yours and when you finally lock your gaze with his. He takes a deep breath, ready to risk it all.

Eddie pulls you to his chest, resting a hand on the small of your back. You feel the goosebumps all over your body, his breath tingling your lips. He notices the shine in your eyes, pleading for him to do something because you are too nervous to move.

If he wanted to kiss you, he would kiss you. That’s what you believe.

He looks at your eyes, at your lips. Impatient, he is making you melt under his touch, and you feel your insides are screaming at him to do something. You decide to wrap your arms around his waist, afraid of him slipping through your fingers and regretting this moment.

You capture him. As he looks down at you like a starved man.

Eddie’s mind is clouded with hundreds of thoughts. This could be so good, this could get bad and ugly. It’s your first kiss, it should be special. It should be with someone you like, Do you like him? Do you want him?

He snaps back to reality when you reach for a strand of hair that fell to his face. Tugging the curl in the back of his ear. Your fingers send shivers through his spine, feeling your gentle touch against his skin. He melts under your touch too.

“Let’s get this over with” he breathes out, digging his fingertips on the small of your back to keep you close. His lips press against yours, you close your eyes enjoying the moment.

But it’s your first kiss. You don’t know what to do, but just as you start to panic Eddie cups your cheeks, his thumb pressing against your warm skin.

“Relax” he whispers on your lips, taking control of the situation. You feel his lips crash with yours, dancing against them as you try to keep up with the pace.

Is this how it feels? To kiss someone for the first time, or even better, to kiss the boy you love for the first time. Your mind is in the clouds, every part of your body feels lighter as a feather.

His lips are so soft. What the actual fuck? How were you able to survive so long without this?

It’s your first kiss. But it feels like it’s Eddie’s too. He can feel his body fill up with electricity, his heart thumping against his chest – just like yours – He has kissed girls before, even boys. But this feeling is new, he is finally kissing someone he loves.

“WOAH! They are kissing” You break away from the kiss as you hear Robin’s voice. She looks at you then at Eddie, a smile showing off on her face. “Sorry, keep doing that!”

“Good job, guys!” Steve says, pushing Robin to the kitchen as she keeps her thumbs up in the air.

Eddie shakes his head, looking down at you. Seeing that smile he loves so much as you giggle, with your body so close to his. You try to catch the air he knocked out of your lungs, keeping him pressed against you.

“Woah indeed” His eyes look at the mistletoe, at your puffy pink lips, and at your flushed cheeks. He grins proudly.

“That was… something” you smile, scrunching up your nose as you look at his matching pink lips and cheeks.

“Should we do it again?” he asks, his chest heaving up and down.

“Please” you whisper, feeling your body yearning for more of him.

“Anything you want, princess”

He kisses you again, this time he quickens the pace of it. You feel his tongue brush against yours causing you to whimper. He giggles at your reaction, groaning for more of you. Eddie is addicted to your taste already. If the smell of your chapstick made him crazy, this sure is going to kill him.

You start to move your tongue, feeling the closure as your teeth crash with his, and the mix of chapstick and saliva, with a touch of cigarette coats your bottom lip. You can’t get enough of the feeling of his lips keeping yours warm and nice.

“Fuck, you taste good” his shaky words come out as he takes a breather, inches from your lips. His teeth find your bottom lip, nipping at it as you open your mouth for him once again.

You won't be spending Christmas unkissed.

reblog to support your creators! comments are appreciated !! ♡ thank you for following my christmas event, your support means so much to me 🎄

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matchingbatbites · 2 months

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Not Like Han and Leia Written for the @steddiemicrofic March prompt pin. 388 words | Rating: Teen

“I don’t get Han and Leia’s relationship.”

Eddie tears his attention away from the movie playing on the television and looks at his boyfriend, confused at the unprompted admission. He makes a noise, encouraging Steve to continue, and the man shrugs.

“It’s just- They seem to hate each other. Why do people think they’re good together?”

“I think it’s the repressed feelings. Like, the unresolved tension between them.”

Steve rolls his eyes at that. “That’s so dumb. We had that weird tension before we started dating, and I never wanted to be mean to you. We just- got in each other’s space and flirted a lot.”

“Yeah, but not everyone deals with their feelings like that. And not everyone shows love the same way. You and Robin tease each other all the time, right?”

“But that’s what siblings do. This reminds me more of my parents. They argued all the time when I was growing up, and it never felt like love. And it’s like- I love you, but that only makes me want to treat you better. Like before we were together all I wanted was to get you little gifts and spend time with you and fucking dote on you, you know?”

Steve turns to look at him and Eddie just- blinks rapidly, and it takes him a second to process, to realize what Steve just said. “Okay, we’re gonna put a pin in this conversation, because I do want to keep talking about this, but- You love me?”

It’s soft, and disbelieving, and Steve melts a little, even as he flushes at the slip up. “Of course I do, Eds. I’m- I didn’t want to say it yet, didn’t want to scare you off, but I do. I love you, Eddie. And it’s okay if you’re not there yet-”

Eddie’s breath catches as a million butterflies explode in his stomach, and he grins, big and beaming. He reaches over and takes Steve’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers and squeezing tight. “Oh sweetheart. How could I not love you too? My own little ray of sunshine, my sweet baby-”

He’s cut off by Steve sealing their mouths together, the kiss eager but sweet, and Eddie pulls back after a moment.

“So, back to Han and Leia-”

“I think he and Luke should hook up.”

#based on a conversation we had in the gc #because i was not on board with han and leia when i first saw the movies #steddiemicroficmarch #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #joey writes

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bolshoiromanova · 1 year

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Commissioned the lovely @crow085 to draw a scene from my Luke & Vader fanfic This Life of Ours! Thank you so much, it’s so insanely beautiful!! <3333

Original AU + Character designs belong to @polarspaz!

#star wars #fanart #Luke Skywalker #anakin skywalker #Darth Vader #fanfiction #my fic #my writing #Obi-Wan Kenobi #leia organa #padme amidala #crow085 #fic scene #art #digital drawing

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lovegrowsart · 3 months

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it's pretty wild to me that people don't see that aang running off to save katara in CoD is his luke in empire strikes back moment, where he runs headlong into his want and attachment and he's narratively punished for doing so and not learning his lesson - aang runs after katara despite guru pathik's warning, like luke runs after leia and han from yoda on dagobah despite yoda's warning; similarly, as a result, things go to hell in ba sing se like they do on bespin - aang enters the avatar state before he's ready and gets killed, and ba sing se falls to the fire nation, luke fights vader before he's ready, loses a hand, and symbolically commits suicide after vader tells him he's luke's father.

the difference between their character arcs is that george lucas and co. actually went thru with luke's hero's journey and understood the fundamental difference between attachment and love, whereas I don't think bryke understood this difference and then dropped this from aang's arc pretty much completely and replaced it with aang digging in his heels into his want and attachment and he gets rewarded with energy bending from a lion turtle, the avatar state from a random pointy rock, and his forever girl from the self-indulgent white men that couldn't bring themselves to give their hero a compelling character arc that meant he might not have gotten everything he wanted at the end.

#the wasted potential of aang's arc gets to me so bad #the narrative and thematic set up is entirely there and they just shove it in the bin lmao #it especially irks as someone raised buddhist and dealing with writers that invoke these themes out of a fascination #with the religion and philosophy but then a complete unwillingess to actually commit to what those themes require of the character arcs #anyway sorry to say it #but zuko's arc does a better job embodying buddhist themes than aang's does in the end #despite all misappropriated aesthetics to the contrary #aang critical #but its really the writing like i LIKE aang i love his potential i hate how self indulgently he's written by the end of the show #atla critical #meta*#holly talks bs #also yes it would've been better narratively for aang katara zuko to the go the way of luke leia han #even if katara couldn't have been revealed as aang's surprise secret twin lmao #the thematic conceit of the triangle is the same in that luke and aang get over their infatuation with the first pretty girl he sees #and becomes the hero he needs to be #meanwhile hanleia and zutara are saving each other and being cool and kissing #anyway

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varpusvaras · 13 days

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There's someone with Fox.

Rex squints his eyes. There's a small, dark-haired woman standing next to Fox. She is looking up to him and saying something, and from the downwards tilt of Fox's head, even with his helmet on, Rex knows that Fox is saying something back.

She looks awfully familiar, but at the same time Rex knows that he has not met her before. It's a somewhat paradoxical feeling, but she's so familiar that he would know if he had ever seen her before this.

He watches them for a while, but mainly her. She is tiny, in both height and overall stature, and she is wearing comfortable, yet high-end clothes. Rex has spent enough time with Padmé by now to recognise when something has been made with enough care and money. Her hair is braided, rather intricately, into two crossing bands at the back of her head. She looks a lot like all the women in the Alderaanian delegation, with the hair and the clothes, he decides.

Perhaps she is. Rex knows that Fox is rather close with Senator Organa these days, as the Senator has been a good ally to the Guard. It makes the most sense. Perhaps she is a relative of someone in the delegation, and Rex has seen those said relatives before.

The thought feels wrong, for some reason, but it's the best he can come up with for now, especially since they seem very comfortable with each other. Fox doesn't let himself be comfortable like that with many people.

Anakin comes to stand next to him.

"What is it?" He asks Rex.

"Nothing, was just watching them", Rex says, and nods his head towards Fox and the woman. "My brother's there, and she looks familiar, so I was trying to see if I recognised her."

Anakin looks over to Fox and the woman as well, and that is the moment Rex sees her going awfully still. Then she's whipping her head around, and locking her dark eyes with Rex and Anakin.

She looks-

Rex blinks. She looks at Rex, for a split second, and then looks at Anakin, and even from this far, Rex sees how her eyes turn hard and cold. She steps closer to Fox, partially in front of him, like she is attempting to shield him from them, even when she's almost two heads shorter than Fox, and not the one wearing full-body armor.

She takes Fox's hand into hers, and says something. Rex sees how Fox looks up at him and Anakin as well, and instead of coming to greet Rex, he lets her turn him around and walks away.

He looks up at Anakin, who has a deep scowl on his face.

"Sir?" Rex calls. Anakin blinks, too, and the scowl clears slightly.

"She looks familiar", he mumbles. "And she felt like...I don't know."

His comlink beeps, and he turns to speak to it. Rex turns to look back at Fox and the woman.

There's something hanging at her waist. Rex can see a glimpse of it when the long hem of her shirt shifts a bit as she walks.

It looks a lot like-

They go down some steps, and Rex cannot see them anymore. He glances back at Anakin, and at his lightsaber, for once securely on him.

He had seen correct. Rex is sure of it.

He is also very sure that the woman is not a Jedi.

#hello the leia time travel au hasn't left me alone after my last ficlet #I just find it very cathartic okay #she's on a little father-daughter-date and Anakin is disturbing them #sw #tcw #my writing #snippets #captain rex #commander fox #leia organa #anakin skywalker #leia time travel au #bail/breha/fox is a thing in this au if you couldn't already tell from the fact that it's me writing lmao

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stargirl-writes · 5 months

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the way this is becoming my favorite tiktok trend

#these make GOOD writing prompts #THE AHSOKA ONE????#anakin skywalker #sw #star wars #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #leia organa

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tennessoui · 4 months

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For the prompt list, nanny/single parent obikin would be amazing!!

(from this prompt list)

(the first time I answered this prompt two years ago, the nanny anakin au was born)

so to do something different, here's some gffa widowed anakin, nanny (sort of) obi-wan!

(2.5k)

It is hard to find time to grieve. There are too many things to do. Too many appointments to make, too many decisions Anakin isn’t sure he’s qualified for. Some decisions are easier than others. For example, the funeral will be on Naboo. There will be two services: a public one to honor Padmé’s public service, and a private one to honor who she was as a person. The casket will be closed, because his wife died when her cruiser exploded. There isn’t much left to bury anyway.

But some decisions are harder. Which flowers should go on her casket. What songs would she want sung and who should sing them? Would she prefer her grave closer to her ancestral home or the home she created in her adulthood?

If she told anyone the answers to these questions, it wasn’t Anakin. But then, the people who knew her best, who loved her most, died with her. Sabé, Rabé, Saché, Yané, all of her handmaidens—an assassination such broad strokes that it was impossible for it to fail.

So Anakin chooses Yali lilies, because Leia’s eyes linger on them the longest. He chooses a small Nabooian folk band to play after her service because their music is the first thing to make Luke lift his head from his coloring books in days. He formally requests that her body be buried among her ancestors, and the Nabierres agree immediately.

And he keeps telling himself that he will grieve, but there is so much to do.

And then—then there’s after the funeral. Then there’s the rest of his life, sprawling out before him in a long, hazy road.

There are more decisions to be made.

There are people who have opinions on them now, people who sat back and let Anakin muddle through flower arrangements and kriffing seating charts, who now step in to peer over his shoulder, monitor his every breath.

Should he really move the children back to Coruscant? Does he truly plan to continue to work as a mechanic in the Mid-Levels? Should he not think of the children, their needs? How can he support them on the thin amount of credits he makes? Would it not be better for the children to live on Naboo in the care of their grandparents and their extended family?

It would be what Padmé would have wanted.

Anakin cannot care about what Padmé would have wanted, because she isn’t here. Not to argue with him, not to make her wants known. She is dead. She doesn’t get to haunt him in the waking world too.

“What do you want?” he asks plainly, sitting down across the table from his two children. The twins blink back at him. Leia has finished her cereal. Luke has barely touched his.

“Bacon,” Luke says.

Anakin hadn’t meant for breakfast, but he figures it’s as good of a start as any. “Alright,” he agrees.

He stands once more and goes to the kitchen. It’s not exactly his domain. It was never Padmé’s either. The way Padmé grew up, food was made once you requested it—by droid, by cooking staff. Not by the hand of a Nabierre.

The way Anakin grew up, food was cobbled together carefully, sparingly no matter how much you requested it. And no matter how you cooked it, it always tasted a little like dust, which took the joy out of experimentation.

But the serving staff have been dismissed for the past two weeks to give the family time and space to grieve in private.

(Padmé’s parents have been given a schedule for visiting hours for that exact reason.)

Anakin locates the pan; then, he locates the package of bacon strips.

When he glances up, both twins are watching him over the edge of their barstools, tiny faces showing both skepticism and incredulity.

“I want to know what you want to do,” Anakin says, raising his voice as he places the pot over the heating plate, the meat in a moment later. “Do you want to stay here with your grandmother and grandfather? Do you want to go back to Coruscant?”

The twins are quiet. Anakin twists his neck to look at them again, and they’re looking at each other, silently communicating the way only twins can.

“Where will you be?” Leia finally asks, looking at him with narrowed, suspicious eyes, bottom lip already jutting out.

Anakin blinks. “Wherever you are,” he answers.

“You won’t leave too?” Luke asks rather tremulously.

Anakin takes the pan off the heated plate and turns it off with a decisive flick of his wrist. “Of course not,” he says. “Come here.” He crouches down and barely has enough time to open his arms before the twins are there, pressing in as close as they can get to him. He holds them back just as tightly in return.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises into Leia’s hair. “Not without you two.”

—-----------------

It becomes apparent fairly quickly that this is, by necessity, a lie.

The twins don’t want to stay on Naboo, which Anakin is secretly incredibly grateful for. He doesn’t want to either, but he knows he’d just be called selfish should he express the opinion.

But the twins don’t want to go back to Coruscant either. This makes sense as well. It would be incredibly jarring for them to go back to living in the quarters they shared with their mother, her Upper Coruscanti apartments in the nicest district of the planet, without her there.

Anakin wishes it were as simple as sticking a pin on a planet and deciding to uproot the entirety of his family to live there.

But it’s not.

Perhaps if he were still young, nineteen, newly free and in love with the taste of that freedom, it would be.

But he’s a widower now. He has his children to think about, their futures. Any planet he chooses must have what they need as well.

And they are four year olds who have just lost their mother. Their needs are numerous.

What makes the decision for him in the end is that his boss knows a man from Stewjon, who is willing to hire him. Who is willing to pay a premium for his expertise with mechanics.

Anakin doesn’t know the first thing about Stewjon, other than that it’s an ocean planet in the Inner Core and his dead wife always said the Senators from Stewjon were so frigid and tight-lipped because they spent the first few days of each visit trying not to be seasick on the Senate floor.

Anakin isn’t sure why this is the very first thing he tells the man—his potential boss—he meets behind the counter in the mech-shop on Stewjon.

He’s left the children with their grandparents for the week—long enough to fly from Naboo to Stewjon, meet with his potential employer, interview, apply his work practically, and fly back out.

He’d explained to both twins why they had to stay on Naboo. He’d explained many times. That hadn’t changed the betrayed look Leia had worn as she saw him off. It hadn’t wiped the tears from Luke’s eyes.

“Ah, well, I can’t say I’ve heard that one before,” the mechanic says. He sounds amused, and Anakin is incredibly shocked to hear a Coruscanti accent. Everyone he’s spoken to since arriving planetside has had such a heavy brogue that he’d honestly struggled to understand their directions to the shop—Kenobi & Sons.

Anakin lets himself look again at the man behind the counter. He’s rather clean for a mechanic, he decides. His beard is red, a common factor around these parts apparently, but his beard is short and neat, trimmed to accentuate the strong lines of his jaw. His eyes are a stormy blue, the kind of blue that matches the Stewjoni ocean.

“Between you and me though,” the man smirks and leans onto the counter with his elbow. His tunic is dark gray, white starchy fabric peeking out beneath the v-necked collar. “I’ve never been a fan of Stewjoni politicians anyway.”

“Oh?” Anakin asks, sidling a step closer to the counter. The man has the beginnings of gray at his temples, and his eyes are lined with wrinkles. They don’t make him look old though, Anakin decides. They make him look…well-lived.

“I’ve not a head for politics much at all,” his future employer shakes his head slightly with a small smile. His eyes flick up and down Anakin’s face, lingering on his lips and then lingering longer on the scar over his brow. Anakin feels rather flushed under the inspection, and he shifts his weight forward until he’s leaning up against the counter too.

There’s something about this man that’s rather…magnetic. It pulls him in. It makes him want to linger.

Good characteristic for a shopkeeper to have, though Anakin privately decides that the man before him has a face that’s wasted on mechanics, buried under some ship’s underbelly in a backroom.

“Me neither,” he admits, a moment too late to sound anything but highly distracted. It makes the man smile again though, a flash of straight white teeth.

“Is there anything you do have a head for then?” he asks. His tone is light, airy, rather teasing.

This is the strangest interview Anakin has ever had.

“Um,” he says. “Well. There’s mechanics.”

“Oh?” The man’s eyebrow lifts at an elegant angle. He props his chin on the palm of his hand and looks up at Anakin through his eyelashes. “Then why come here to us then?”

“Um,” Anakin says, and not because the man looks rather unfairly flattering like this, amber eyelashes in sharp relief against the blue of his eyes.

They’re interrupted by the sounds of clattering in the backroom, stomping and cursing. The man before him straightens with a slight sigh and picks up the closest flimsipad. “And what brings you in here today, sir?” he asks rather loudly, pitching his voice back to the other room of the shop pointedly. “Problem with your speeder? Serving droid? Cruiser? If it’s your astromech droid, I regret to inform you that I’ll have to refuse you service on account of the fact that I don’t particularly care for them.”

Anakin thinks he splutters, but whatever noise he makes is definitely drowned out by the rather irritated shout of Obi-Wan! that comes from the back.

A moment later, a man storms through the door, looking annoyed. "We will service an astomech if that's what's broken, Obi-Wan."

Now this is a man that Anakin can believe is a mechanic. His nails are blackened with oil, and his bare, burly arms carry smudges of the stuff. He’s much broader than the man—Obi-Wan—that Anakin had been talking to. He’s bald with a reddened scalp and a rather large red beard that’s the antithesis of the other man’s in every way. His clothes are dirty, loose, and the color of ash. He looks older too—whereas Obi-Wan could easily be in his thirties, this man must be pushing fifty.

He snaps at Obi-Wan in a language that Anakin doesn’t understand. Obi-Wan shrugs and hands over the flimsi pad without argument.

“Um, actually,” Anakin says, feeling incredibly wrong-footed. “Which one of you is Kenobi?”

“I am,” both of them say. Obi-Wan’s smirking slightly. The other man’s voice is louder, carrying that Stewjoni accent so obviously lacking in Obi-Wan’s speech.

The older man closes his eyes as if he’s praying for patience. “We both are,” he says. “Though if your ship’s malfunctioned, sir, I’m the Kenobi you want to see. This one’s good for naught but magic tricks.”

“I have been told I’m rather good at other things,” Obi-Wan turns his smirk full-force at Anakin, dropping his eyes to Anakin’s lips once more.

“My name is Anakin Skywalker,” he says very quickly in a very normal tone of voice that is most definitely not a squeak. “I’m here to interview for a position. As another mechanic.”

“Oh,” the older Kenobi says.

“Oh,” the younger Kenobi says in a much different tone.

The older Kenobi pinches at his nose for a moment before turning around the counter and offering his hand. “Ben,” he says. “Ben Kenobi.”

Anakin takes his hand and shakes it, eyes traveling back to Obi-Wan. Is he supposed to shake his hand too?

“I’m the Son in the sign,” Ben says gruffly as if that answers his question.

“I’m the reason it’s plural,” Obi-Wan adds, busying himself with the contents of the counter. From what Anakin can tell, the man is just messing up the carefully organized piles of receipts.

He decides that he would rather not get the job than point this out to Ben.

Ben huffs out something in Stewjoni that sounds downright insulting, but that doesn’t stop Obi-Wan from smiling sunnily up at Anakin. “My brother enjoys bitching and moaning that I came back home when I was seventeen, but he’s awfully quick to foist his children off on me when he’s called to shift at the rig offshore and Marci’s off-planet too.”

Anakin blinks. He feels like that’s the safest answer.

“Only thing good that blasted Jedi Order ever taught you was how to handle younglings,” Ben says, and then spits on the ground as if the words themselves have left a bad taste in his mouth.

Anakin blinks and wonders if he should say something to remind the brothers that he’s here. For an interview. “And my magic tricks,” Obi-Wan rolls his eyes slightly before catching Anakin’s eye and winking. With a wave of his hand, a flimsi-sheet flies over the counter and into Anakin’s chest. He catches it unthinkingly. “Would you like to sign in, sir?” “Get out of here,” Ben barks, snatching the flimsi from Anakin’s hand and pushing it back to the counter. “Like I said, the only one’s impressed with that is the younglings.”

“I don’t know, your man looks impressed,” Obi-Wan says slyly, even as he pushes himself away from the counter and around the edge of it.

Anakin isn’t sure what he looks like. He doesn’t think impressed is the word he’d use though.

When Obi-Wan brushes past him, the static electricity in the air jumps between their shoulders. Anakin feels as if he’s been shocked.

Obi-Wan must feel it too because he stops only a few inches away and looks at Anakin. For the first time, his expression is open. Curious. Considering.

“Get!” His brother insists, and Obi-Wan obeys, throwing one last look over his shoulder at Anakin before he slips out the door.

The shop feels somehow much bigger now that the other man has left. Ben sighs and rubs a hand down his face. He looks older now. More worn. “So that was my brother,” he tells Anakin wearily. “Who you would most likely see frequently if you were to take this job. I would understand completely if you would like to start by talking compensation.”

#asks #prompt fills #obikin #so he's not a nanny YET #i absolutely got too into the exposition lol #but in my mind he looks after luke and leia while anakin is at work #and then after a few months anakin is asked to do a few week stint at a rig off shore #(thnk of it either like oil rig or like the underwater station in the kenobi show)#and he goes and obi-wan looks after his kids #ok mostly i just wanted to write obnoxious little brother obi-wan #he leaves the order at 15 to go to melida/daan #and isn't allowed back in so he fights and rebuilds #but eventually leaves and goes to stewjon where he finds his family #and his brother both hates him and loves him more than anything else in the world #and hates the jedi order for rejecting him and letting him fight and risking his baby brother's life #and obi-wan finds this amusing and also secretly touching #you can tell i thought way too much about this brother dynamic lol #but just imagine the you hurt my brother speech this guy will give to anakin #and obi-wan's in the back like im thirty nine

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cerulianvermillion · 11 months

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Do the jedi have like. the star wars equivalent of sword dances? I mean lightsaber fights already look like dances, but like what about the ones that are actually intended to be dances? like imagine dancing with a lightsaber- that would be sooo pretty to look at. I imagine that obi-wan isn't like super good or an expert or anything, but there's a couple that he knows and loves and does really well, especially when he's on his own. Qui-gon was really good at many and taught him to do them and it stuck, and on those nights he was grieving he just dances listening to the force. Nobody dances quite like obi-wan, though. Like he doesn't know a lot of dances but he's really really good on the ones he does know, and plus points to the fact that obi-wan is probably also musically inclined.

Anakin is really good, too, like qui-gon, he caught it much more easily than obi-wan did. It probably started out as him accidentally seeing obi-wan do it when he was younger, and then trying to emulate and failing lmao, and then it became like, and alternative way of meditating for Anakin? like at some point Obi-wan realized that dance could totally work as a way of moving meditation and decided to teach anakin himself and enroll him in classes, and I think anakin would really get into it especially during the war. Padme would like it, she has an eye for stuff like this so sometimes she helps point out details to anakin.

Ahsoka learns from anakin because anakin is definitely the type to add sword dance into ahsoka's curiculum, but he prefers teaching her himself because he just so happens to be really good at it. Ahsoka would like it! like she's not as into it as anakin is but sometimes she practices when there's a lot on her mind or like, when she wants to show the clones what she learned. oh, the clones would absolutely enjoy watching ahsoka dance, and ahsoka would totally convince anakin to do it with her. Sometimes they'd convince obi wan. When she leaves the order she still practices, it's her way of staying connected even though she'd never come to realize it herself. And when (if?) the whole oder 66 thing happens, the sword dance is one of the few jedi culture bits that not many outside of the order knows, and she preserves it.

I like to think that she'll teach luke, one day. like maybe directly, or maybe she'll leave him a set of holo-recordings that he finds, and then luke would try to emulate and learn, and because he's Padme's and Anakin's son, he'd catch on and learn quickly. It won't be a perfect imitation, so Luke just uses his gut (the force) and adds new bits into the missing portions of the dance. He'd teach leia too, like leia is not super interested as luke is, but this specific aspect is actually super fascinating to her, so maybe she'll learn a bit, while also assisting him in doing some research about it. It surprised her how it helps her clear her mind.

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hannibalzero · 30 days

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Obi-Wan having a phantom pregnancy for Luke and Leia.

Like Padme is actually having the twins but Obi-Wan is having all her symptoms.

Padme: -well rested, glowing and beautiful goddess mode.- I hardly feel like I’m pregnant.

Meanwhile Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan: I can’t sleep, my back is killing me, my ankles have swollen along with my chest. I’m constantly hungry and my emotions are wild. I’ve been sick in the morning, I’ve had acne for the first time in years. Certain smells make me sick. All I want to do is nap!-is crying while speaking- Anakin is acting strange and all I want is to be fucked like an animal. I’ve been to healer Che 7 times and I’m not pregnant or mentally ill?! What’s happening?!

The force:…..hehe…..Skywalker’s….

#star wars #obikin #obi wan kenobi #my writing #tw mpreg #phantom pregnancy #this is dumb but fun #padme amidala #anakin skywalker #luke and leia

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lavendermunson · 4 months

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mistletoe - steve harrington

day 13 of leia’s christmas tree farm

cw FLUFF. mentions of steve’s mental health. henderson!reader. preestablished relationship

Steve isn’t a pretty big fan of the holidays because he doesn’t spend the night like the others. His mom pays someone to make dinner for her, she gets them out of the plastic containers and places them in expensive personalized dinnerware. His dad buys expensive whiskey and finishes the bottle in a couple of minutes along his friends.

He has grown to believe Christmas is just a holiday about showing off. Giving expensive gifts and seeing people use them for three days just to bury them at the bottom of their dressers.

That’s something his parents always did, brag about money and big houses instead of having a good time. He thought he deserved this, a life so soulless and unkind.

When he met Dustin, your mom, and you his whole world changed. He fell for you so hard, risking all for you and making sure you were always happy. You do the same for him, you always do.

You are his safe place.

It’s Christmas Eve. His family is having dinner with his dad’s colleagues and his mom’s loud best friends. He hates this, he hates that he has to put on a fake smile on his face while he feels miserable.

Steve wishes you could be by his side, but he couldn’t put you through this. His dad will ignore you and try to set him up with someone else. He knows his mom would love you but eventually side with him because that’s the way their relationship works.

Their marriage is stupid.

His parents are stupid.

This day is so stupid.

Surrounded by the stiffness of his room, looking at the pictures of him with you and the friend group. He feels like he could cry, he wants a good Christmas Eve just for once. He misses you all so much.

His head is heavy and his vision is blurry. He sits on the edge of his bed, tapping his foot against the carpeted floor and preparing himself for the night.

Then he hears a knock on his window. It’s you. Like he summoned you. His heart skips a beat when he sees your face, you are all dressed in black.

“What are you doing? My parents are here!”

“We are here to steal you, like a precious piece of art from a museum!”

He laughs, looking at you.

“I can’t, honey. I can’t leave, they are going to kill me!”

“They won’t because…” you hold your index finger in the air, waiting for your sign to escape. When you hear Steve’s mom scream you take his hand in yours, pulling him to you. “Your house is infested with cockroaches”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll explain in a bit, let’s go”

You take a step back from the roof, Steve is impressed to see you climb his house for him knowing how difficult it is for him to get to your window. He escapes from his own room, his hands gripping the window frame as he gets out quietly.

When you get off the roof, you hold his hand in yours running with him towards your car. He opens the passenger door and sits down excited, ready to escape this hell of a house.

He did it. He is out, he is with you. The cold breeze hits his cheeks, he feels calm for the first time since he woke up.

“Dustin! Hurry” you scream at your little brother, he holds an empty box as he runs to meet you.

“Mission accomplished!”

Both of you join Steve in the car, you are quick to drive away from his house before their parents catch you. He misses his mom telling him not to come downstairs.

“You guys are crazy,” he says, anxiety slowly disappears as he rubs his abdomen. He looks back, noticing how his house disappears from his vision. “When did you come up with this plan?”

“Today” you answer, eyes focused on the road as you speed up to get to your house quickly.

“And why are you both dressed in black?”

“It’s our steal-a-museum outfit,” Dustin says, feeling Steve’s eyes glaring at him “It was her idea!”

“I couldn’t leave you there, I spent all day trying to come up with something for you to spend Christmas with me”

“Thank you, honey”

“And your parents freaked out when they saw the cockroaches, it was hilarious!” Dustin says, getting out of the car when you finally get home. Safely and with Steve by your side.

Steve holds your hand as you walk to your house, his fingers interlock with yours and he leans to the side, kissing your cheek before pushing the door open.

After opening the door, he sees a crowd of people cheering and screaming. Your mom, Robin, Eddie, Nancy, Jonathan, and all of his kids are there.

Steve smiles brightly, feeling his cheeks warm as well as his heart. Everyone comes up to him, hugs him, and welcomes him before they follow Dustin, who cannot stop laughing as he tells the story of how they got Steve here.

Your mom gets close to him, hugging him tightly.

“We are happy you are home,” she says. Steve holds back his tears, home. He finally feels like he has a home.

“Thank you, Mrs. Henderson” he smiles at her, his chest heaving up and down from the excitement. “I’m surprised you were okay with this plan”

“Oh Steve, who do you think got that box of cockroaches!” she laughs and you join her, both looking so happy that he is here. How is it possible? He feels like he is dreaming. It’s all just too good to be true. “I’ll leave you guys, you are under the mistletoe”

You look up at the branch of mistletoe that wasn’t there before you left the house. Steve looks at it too, then he wraps your waist with his arms pulling you to his chest.

“Thank you, baby”

“Don’t. It’s the least I could do, they are going home at ten but you are staying here with me”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. I love you, honey”

“I love you too, baby”

You cup his cheeks in your hands, the feeling of your soft fingertips makes Steve melt. Pressing your lips against his, he feels in heaven.

He feels you, he tastes you.

The one who saved him from one of the worst nights of his life, he owes you everything.

His head falls to the side as you tangle your fingers in his hair. It makes Steve moan softly, feeling all his body warm and bubbly.

You spend the night together. Sharing jokes, laughing at Dustin’s stories, and drinking. He only gets more excited because he gets to sleep with you, maybe thank you for what you did, and wake up on Christmas to open his presents.

reblog to support your creators! comments are appreciated !! ♡ thank you for following my christmas event, your support means so much to me 🎄

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samijey · 5 months

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why are they always like this.......

bonus Jey responding with some serious "i love you // i know" energy:

#sami zayn #jey uso #samijey #wwe #kevin owens #wweedit #stuff i made #he's just like me fr #don't think i need to tag the codester here #this ain't about him #he's an ally tho he'll understand #dude who responds to “i'm happy for you” with “that's true”??? go to jail with your leia/solo bs brooooo #also sami is talking about something that was traumatic to them both and my dude just looks at him fondly and cracks a smile #and if that's not love then i dunno what is #does anyone even read these why do i bother writing them #these wrestling gays have me screaming into the void i hate it here #even kevin was sick of their sh*t at that point

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beskarfrog · 9 months

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After weeks of public speculation, the Mand'alor has tied the knot with Jedi Knight Skywalker. Follow Coruscant News Network for updated coverage on this story, including exclusive holos and an interview with Senator Amidala. Suggested Articles: - Dating a Mandalorian? Best Practices for Courting and Combat - Post-War Reform in the Jedi Order - The Darksaber: A Retrospective on Jedi-Mandalorian Relations - Authentic Muja-free Uj'alayi Cake

#dinluke #dinluke art #digital art #the mandalorian #gala au #not pictured: han and paz absolutely sobbing bc their best friends just got married #also not pictured: leia awkwardly comforting them while preventing grogu from escaping and causing havoc #lol i'm never going to be done with this silly au now bc ive started writing down plot for it

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obiwanobi · 1 year

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Don't know the context of it, but imagine Luke and Leia being raised in the Temple and both wanting to be Obi-Wan's padawan and Obi-Wan being incapable of choosing between them, so the three of them go to the Council with the most pleading look on their faces and promise to be nice so can they please both be Uncle Obi-Wan's padawans 🥺

The Council isn't too thrilled about it but they're twins, so they could probably bend the rules a lit—

The two excited screams that follow almost make Master Yoda fall from his chair.

"UNCLE OBI did you hear?" Luke asks, tugging on Obi-Wan's robe as if he hasn't been there the whole time. "You're our master now! BOTH of us!"

Leia doesn't even notice that her brother is talking, moving her little arms excitingly. "I can't wait to tell Ezra, he said that it was stupid and the council would never accept but what does he know, the laserbrain isn't even—"

"Uncle Obi do we have to call you Master now? Master Uncle? I know you prefer that we call you Obi-Wan but I think Master Obi is so much cooler—"

"Remember that you asked for this, Obi-Wan," Mace Windu says and Obi-Wan is almost certain he's smiling a bit too much not to be teasing, but Luke is already climbing in his arms to make sure Obi-Wan is listening to him and Leia is halfway out of the room already talking about her padawan braid, so he doesn't really have time to think about it.

He has a feeling he won't have time for anything else except his padawans for quite some time now.

#is it an AU where Padmé and Anakin died but the Jedi Order survived?#I don't know I just wanted uncle Obi-Wan and his little padawans who forget to call him master half the time #Obi-Wan's hair turns completely white in 3 years and no one is surprised #his padawans are the lights of his life though #obi wan kenobi #leia organa #luke skywalker #clem's aus #fic I will never write

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tickle-bugs · 8 months

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Cool Guy

Anon: Heya! If you're still doing them, could you make a tickle fic on Luke and Han but js Han getting Luke? I love the whole Luke being like Hans lil bro 😭 An idea being maybe Luke is embarrassing Han in front of Leia and Han gets him back, Leia maybe helping Han a bit? I like your fics a lot haha! It's alr if not ofc, js have a good day! :D <3

Summary: Han is cool, suave, and absolutely irresistible. Luke vehemently disagrees.

Han knows logically that he cannot not squish the galaxy’s last hope like a bug. That would be unwise. There is, however, zero question of if he deserves it.

Luke is almost better at being a little shit than he is at being a Jedi.

“Princess!” Han leans against the wall. The Falcon’s internals hum behind it. Leia looks up at him blankly.

“Pest.” She takes a bite of a sandwich. “What do you want?”

Nothing. Not a thing. He just loves the irritated curve of her eyebrow, the sharpness of her gaze, the curl of her lips--

“I’d love it if you’d stop taking what’s not yours.” He nods towards the sandwich. Leia regards it, then makes deep eye contact on her next bite. Han chuckles in something like disbelief, but he knows her. Knows how she likes to provoke.

“Nice boys share their food.” She takes another bite.

“Well, I ain’t nice. Keep your thieving little hands to yourself.” Han considers wrapping up the sandwich, just to be petty, but he knows she hardly takes interest in his things unless she needs something. He could find something else to eat.

“Or else what?” She plays with the crust of the bread. Eye contact. God, he loves this game of theirs. She leaves him breathless too often for his liking, though. As he flounders for a comeback, he hears a high-pitched noise from the other side of the room.

Luke. Great.

“What are you wearing?” Luke laughs incredulously. Han looks down at himself. He’d put on a fur vest today instead of his usual cargo one. It was something he’d snatched off some mook that’d tried to set him up with a dishonest deal. It’s old and it smells a little funny, but he likes it. It’s his now.

“Wh—it’s a vest. It’s cold.” Han frowns.

“You look like Chewie shed on you.” Luke leans his hip against the doorway as he settles in to mock. There’s a Wookiee outcry of indignation from the cockpit that goes unanswered.

“It’s a fashion statement.” Han adjusts his posture, gives them a new angle. Luke snorts. Han scowls.

“What exactly are you stating?” Leia rests her chin in her hands. She’s got a crumb on her cheek. He does not think about brushing it away.

“You’re both terrible.” Han stomps off to change.

“Right back atcha!” Leia calls after him. Her laughter is sweet, even at his expense.

….

Run-ins with Empire patrols always put Han on a fine edge--he’s a well-oiled machine with Chewie at his back, but recent additions to the Falcon have proven…distracting. As he slams them into a hyperspace jump, the twins’ noise somehow drowns out the noise of the engine. Leia’s complaining that he took too many risks, Luke’s insisting he took too little, and Han’s half tempted to spin send the Falcon into a barrel roll just to hear a different sound.

Chewie won’t let him. The honorable bastard.

The moment they finish the jump, Han swivels out of his chair and goes…well, he’s not sure where he’s going, but he knows he needs to see and hear something besides Luke crunching angrily on crackers.

Leia follows on Han’s heels, Luke follows on hers, and Han considers just ejecting himself from the airlock and being done with it.

“If you want to die, be my guest, but don’t put us at risk for your ego.” Leia smacks his chest. Han can’t tell if he’s imagining the lingering touch of her fingers.

“No, you’d miss me too much.” He fires back, pulling out of her grasp. He takes long strides, taking a petty sort of joy in hearing significantly shorter legs scramble after him.

“Not a chance in hell,” Leia snarls, snatching the back of his vest. He whirls around.

“Yes, you would, because things are boring without me. You like having me around.” He leans into her space. She stands her ground.

“The fate of the galaxy is boring?” She conveniently ignores that last part. Han doesn’t miss it.

“It is without me. Face it, princess. You’re attached.” He puts his hands on his hips. Leia’s face turns an interesting color.

“Ha! See? Attached!” Han points triumphantly. Leia smacks his hand away.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You didn’t need to. The truth’s all over your face.” He circles that pointer finger in her face. She smacks it hard enough to bruise this time.

“The truth that I can’t stand you, more like. You’re arrogant, reckless, irresponsible—“

“And exactly your type.” Han grins. “You like having me around. Meanwhile, I’m cool, casual, and unattached.” Han clicks his tongue. Leia attempts to burn a hole through his forehead with her gaze. He worries for a moment that she might.

“Really?” Luke crunches loudly. “I heard you telling Chewie that you like having us around. That you wouldn’t know what you’d do without us. Didn’t sound very cool and casual.”

“I was drunk.” Han’s face burns. Leia snorts. Han scowls.

“Drunk mind, sober thoughts.” Luke grins teasingly, waving a chip in his face. Han tries to snatch the bag, but Luke twirls effortlessly out of the way. Damn Jedi.

“Sounds like you’re attached, laser brain.” Leia circles her finger in his face, and Han wonders if turning himself in to the Empire might be better for his ego.

…

Han’s not sure when his game with Leia stopped being a game and started being this, but he’s not complaining. He’s made out in worse storage rooms than the ones on the Falcon. They’d started with fetching a rations restock, devolved into bickering, and, well…their arguments usually end in violence or the threat of it, so Leia trying to climb him like a tree is a much-welcomed departure from form.

Normally Han’s great at keeping his emotions in a cold, dark little box where he never has to deal with them, but Leia looked so pretty yelling at him that he just…had to kiss her. He knew at that moment he’d die if he didn’t. It’s not the first time they’ve kissed and he hopes it won’t be the last, but each touch with Leia is like drifting closer to the beautiful terror of the sun. The best part, the overwhelming part, is that she wants him too.

All of that would’ve been well and good, great even, if Luke hadn’t been standing in the doorway.

Luke and Leia have some kind of stare-off that Han suspects involves their twinness--there’s lots of flustered, offended noises without words being uttered. Luke raises his eyebrow in a way that really seems to get to Leia, because she splutters, which she expressly does not do.

“Don’t you start! I tolerate him!” She glares at Luke, her cheeks turning red.

“Aww.” Han smirks. She elbows him in the ribs.

“With your mouth?” Luke’s near hysterical.

“Among other things.” Han smirks wider. Luke’s face twists in sheer disgust.

“Shut up,” Leia hisses, blushing and hitting him harder. He grins.

Luke levels a finger at Han, a habit he picked up from him in the first place, and then stalks off.

“Chances he knifes me in my sleep?”

“Lower than me doing it myself.” Leia swats his arm once more for good measure, but she’s still glowing, and Han thinks he might want to see that smile of hers for the rest of his life.

“I’ll take those odds.”

The difference between Luke and his sister, in Han’s opinion, is that Luke’s noise goes inwards. Leia will scream at Han until she’s red in the face and then she’ll miraculously find more air. Luke gets quiet and vengeful, which is why Han starts to suspect foul play the third time he trips over thin air.

Han really wants to fight back, but every time he opens his mouth, Leia’s lurking around some dark corner.

On hour three of Luke’s temper tantrum, Han’s eye begins to twitch. He’s probably bruised every inch of his shins by now, he’s tired, and he thinks if he can close his eyes for an hour he might remember how to function. Just a sweet, Skywalkerless hour.

Han drags his hand over his face as he walks off to his cabin. He finds Luke standing in the hall like an omen. He doesn’t move when Han approaches. The little furrow in his brow is probably meant to be intimidating, and maybe one day it will be, but Han can’t bring himself to care.

The desire to lay down overcomes his rational thought, and he does to Luke what he often does to Leia: jams his hands under Luke’s arms and lifts him out of the way.

Except, unlike Leia, Luke doesn’t try to kick him. He lets out a giggle at a pitch Han didn’t know he was capable of.

Han pauses, raising an eyebrow at the rapidly-reddening Jedi in his arms. He twitches his fingers. Luke chokes out a surprised laugh.

Han’s suddenly not tired anymore. Funny, that.

“Han, don’t you dare, c’mon--”

Han sets Luke down but doesn’t release him--he viciously wiggles his fingers where they’re trapped under Luke’s arms. He goes down like a sack of droid components, filling the Falcon with bright, bouncy laughter it so desperately needs.

“You get a minute for every bruise, and my shins are looking mighty purple.” Han whistles lowly, pressing into the gaps between Luke’s ribs. Luke lets out a giggly hiccup and kicks his legs.

“That’s not f-fair!” Luke clutches Han’s arms desperately. Han twitches his fingers and he curls up, shaking his head. Han distantly wonders when Luke last laughed like this. If he ever has.

“Yeah? Tell me about it. Pick on someone your own size and maybe life will be fairer.” Han tries to keep his stare blank, but his mouth quirks up at the corners. Luke lets out an indignant gasp, but he quickly tumbles right back down into laughter.

“Let go,” Luke growls, his whole face scrunching around his smile.

“Kid, I can’t let you go if you’ve got my hands.” Han gives a dramatic tug. He stops, raising his eyebrow expectantly. Luke pouts--pouts!--at him and lifts his arms at glacial pace. Han pulls away…

…and goes right for Luke’s exposed stomach. His shout of betrayal mixes beautifully with his laughter.

“Rookie mistake,” Leia tuts, snickering at Luke’s misfortune. Han jumps at her appearance--man, he should put a bell on these two--and Luke takes that as a signal to start wriggling away. Han reels him back in with a hearty laugh.

“Leia, fetch your--” Han cuts Luke off with a squeeze to the side before he can say anything embarrassing.

“You gonna help, Your Worship? Or are you above getting your hands dirty?” Han casts a glance at Leia.

“Never.” Leia smirks, kneeling beside Luke. They stare at each other for a long, tense while. Leia’s gaze drifts over him the same way she sifts through a plan for holes, until she stops at his knees.

Luke’s eyes widen. Leia grins.

She latches on like a viper and Luke squeals, drumming his feet on the ground. He throws his head back and cackles himself into silence, flopping around uselessly.

“Remind me to stay on your good side,” Han chuckles, a little nervous.

“You’re notoriously bad at it,” she smirks. Han swears he feels the ghost of her fingers on his own legs. He shudders.

Luke’s surrender is less of a cry and more of a wheeze, but they let him go quickly all the same. He tosses his arm over his glowing face with a great, heaving sigh.

“You alright over there?” Han chuckles, nudging Luke’s boot. He lifts his arm to glare.

“I hate you.”

“I know.” Han pats his ankle. Luke kicks him. Han squeezes his knee and he immediately blurts out a tired, giggly apology.

“Stop being a little shit and trying to trip me up. It’s not gonna work. Too cool for that.” Han pats Luke’s stomach.

Warm hands wrap around his waist and he leans back, scaring himself with how easily he fits into Leia’s arms. She hooks her chin over his shoulder.

“Are you ready?” She murmurs, brushing her fingers over the fabric of his shirt.

“Ready for what?” His hand finds hers. He’s more than ready, if he’s reading this right. She’s rarely like this beyond closed doors, and it sends a thrill through him. Her lips brushing his ear drives him just a little crazy. He starts to stand, but she pulls him back down.

“To be tripped up.” She smirks. He feels it.

“Wh—“

Leia’s fingers dig in with deadly accuracy. Han crumples and his bravado goes with him. Loud, hearty laughter bursts from him as he slides to the floor, boneless in her arms.

“Aw, look at you cool guy.” Luke sidles up next to him with a shit eating grin. He tickles mockingly under Han’s chin and he, mortifyingly, giggles. Luke chases the sound, having way too much fun for Han’s liking.

Han growls and tries to kick him. Leia’s fingers find his hips—cruel and unusual—and he’s toast. He resigns himself to die in her lap, which isn’t the overall worst way to go, and makes a mental note to write Luke out of his will.

As long as Chewie thinks he’s cool, he supposes it’s still a net win.

#dont try to place this in canon its about the vibes #my fics #star wars #ticklish!luke skywalker #ticklish!han solo #(at the end)#han solo #luke skywalker #leia organa #idk what han and leia's ship name is. i think its scoundress?#idk lol #this is based off a blooper/deleted scene (not sure which) of han and leia arguing on hoth and harrison just picks carrie up and moves her #while they're still yelling #i think harrison went down the wrong hallway and that was him trying to correct it but it was so fucking funny i had to write about it

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