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#now I'm tracin all my steps to you
allwaswell16 · 14 days
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All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in April 2024. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup [ @1dmonthlyficroundup ] which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!
Fanfictional Podcast #61 |  ko-fi | fic recs
- Louis/Harry -
🌼 When the Lights Go Out by thelarenttrap / @antidotetogo
(E, 79k, F1 au) In its near eighty years of existence, Formula 1 has never had an out gay driver. In 2017, Harry Styles signs a contract with Scuderia AlphaTauri alongside his childhood friend and competitor, Louis Tomlinson. The next decade of their careers is some of the most tumultuous press--on and off the track--Formula 1 has ever seen.
🌼 Colorful Hearts by Larrysmomfics / @larrysmomfics
(M, 20k, humor) In a world where orgasmic emissions change color depending on the person’s mood, Louis Tomlinson’s semen has only ever been blue. At the recommendation of his doctor he attends a support group for people with similar conditions. 
🌼 In a swirl of flashing lights by @lunaticcat009
(M, 15k, friends to lovers) Harry taps on Louis' window with a sad smile and they sneak into a closed carnival. A starry night of them running around the abandoned premises with their fingers intertwined ensues.
🌼 Fuck You For Ruining New York City For Me by galactic_larry / @galacticlarry
(T, 11k, exes) Louis broke up with him in their New York apartment, so Harry left the city for good. Except now he’s back, visiting with his new boyfriend.
🌼 defying stars by localopa / @voulezloux
(T, 9k, high school) the marching band au only one person (and that was me) asked for.
🌼 Half a World Away by @silverstuff50
(E, 9k, omegaverse) Bothy: A bothy is a basic shelter, usually left unlocked and available for anyone to use free of charge. Bothies are found in remote mountainous areas of Scotland, Northern England, Ulster and Wales. 
🌼 Where All Roads Lead by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings
(NR, 7k, neighbors) Harry's Christmas takes an unexpected turn when he discovers a misplaced holiday card in his letterbox. He never thought that braving the snow to return the card to its sender would be so worth his while.
🌼 Does it Ever Drive You Crazy? (Just How Fast the Night Changes) by xx_soup_xx
(G, 7k, strangers to lovers) Baker Harry Styles takes it upon himself to get his mysterious grumpy customer, Louis Tomlinson, to like Christmas by taking him on a disastrous first date.
🌼 Girl Crush by Hopeless_blue
(T, 7k, strangers to lovers) He used to be so close to fulfilling his dreams when he participated in X-Factor. But that was four years ago, and now, on a rainy day, he wanders the streets looking for a pub where he could sing sometimes. Charming bartender Louis is ready to give him a shot...
🌼 Why Don’t We Start Writing The Story Of Us by red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa
(T, 6k, omegaverse) Alpha Louis and Omega Harry get off on the wrong foot, Louis has the worst timing, and Harry believes in second chances. Three times Louis asks Harry on a date and the one time Harry accepts
🌼 I Might Say Yes by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28
(E, 6k, established relationship) the one where Harry buys a wedding dress on a whim. And his very doting boyfriend, Louis, is more than happy to indulge him
🌼 now i'm tracin' all my steps to you by @alwaysxlarrie
(T, 5k, 5 times fic) Of all the things Harry was prepared for this summer, Louis Tomlinson and his wonderful, wonderful scent isn't one of them. It probably shouldn't be as shocking as it is that it makes Harry want to nest.
🌼 Crimson Clover by babyhoneyhslt / @babyhoneyheslt
(T, 5k, soulmates) Harry and Louis are soulmates, but one is already promised to another. When their plan to flee is discovered and they are separated, Harry falls gravely ill.
🌼 I’ll tell you something (I hope you’ll understand) by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright
(E, 2k, girl direction) Louis insists that Harry stay off her phone and in the safety of Louis' room rather than risk moping in her own texting her ex-boyfriend. When Harry agrees on one condition, Louis' safe night in could become something else entirely.
🌼 All The Way Home I'll Be Warm by @justanothershadeofblue
(T, 2k, friends to lovers) Harry & Louis jokingly send out holiday cards together as friends, and now everyone is congratulating them for finally getting together. A 5+1 fic, for Christmas.
🌼 beech tree in autumn by @juliusschmidt
(E, 1k, summer romance) Louis walks forward. Harry walks back. And back. And back. Off the two track, through the brush, until his heel bangs against the trunk of a tree.
🌼 hey stupid, i love you by @enchantedlandcoffee
(T, 1k, omegaverse) The one where self-proclaimed Valentine's Day hater, Louis, surprises his boyfriend on their first Valentine's together.
🌼 skinny dip (in water under the bridge) by hazzahtomlinson / @itsnotreal
(G, 880 words, exes) It’s a Wednesday and nostalgia might just get the best of Louis.
- Rare Pairs -
🌼 Finally, You and I (Collide) by @lululawrence
(NR, 14k, Zayn/Louis) the five times Louis was accidentally wooed by cookies and the one time he was purposefully wooed by brownies.
🌼 I Saw Several Angels in the Self Help Section by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup
(G, 3k, ot5) Zayn and Louis are soulmates. They're also missing some soulmates. For extra flavour, it's Christmas.
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alwaysxlarrie · 18 days
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now i'm tracin' all my steps to you by @alwaysxlarrie / alwaysxlarrie
Louis Tomlinson/Harry Styles | Teen + Up | 5.3k
"Of all the things Harry was prepared for this summer, Louis Tomlinson and his wonderful, wonderful scent isn't one of them. It probably shouldn't be as shocking as it is that it makes Harry want to nest. There's only one slight problem -- Harry and nesting aren't exactly on familiar terms. At all.
This does not stop Harry from borrowing (stealing) Louis' things all throughout summer, though. Oops?"
written for the @omegaharryfest :)
**i got all the pics used in my moodboard from pinterest -- if you see a photo you've taken in here, please lmk so i can give you credit and/or if you want your photo removed !!**
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bratshaws · 24 days
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through the hourglass 386. brb x oc
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a/n: my day was awful uwu (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)
pairing: plus size!oc x rooster
warnings: none
goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)
chapter
1/
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/367/368/369/370/371/372/373/374/375/376/377/378/379/380/381/382/383/384/385
(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )
taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @novastories @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix @lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls
@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2
@emilybradshaw @louisahale @leobabbyyy @booklover2sblog @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12
@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @fanboyswhore9 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl @mygyn @chavivaelisheva @kmc1989 @enchantingharmonyalpaca @callsign-magnolia @mrsbradshaw01
@lyn-js
-
How was it going so far???
Alright.
He was nursing himself to some punch,non-alcoholic, they still had to go back to the hotel after all. He was sitting on the corner as Beatrice busied herself in getting some water instead of punch, his smile widening as she looks back at him, “I got some lemon water.” she announces, holding the glass “It’s nice, you want some?”
Rooster's smile softened at Beatrice's thoughtful gesture, "Sure, honey," he replied, accepting the glass with a grateful nod, "Thanks."
Beatrice returned his smile, her eyes shining with affection as she watched him take a sip of the refreshing lemon water. As they stood together, sipping their drinks and chatting quietly, Rooster's mind wandered back to their earlier conversation with Jason. "You know," Rooster said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence between them, "It's funny how life works sometimes. Meeting old friends like Jason...it's like stepping back in time."
Beatrice nodded in agreement, "Yeah, it really is," she murmured softly, "It's strange how certain moments can transport you back to a different time and place."
Rooster took another sip of his punch, feeling a sense of nostalgia wash over him as he reminisced about their past. "Do you ever miss it?" he asked quietly, his gaze drifting to the dance floor where couples swayed to the music, "The way things used to be?"
Beatrice sighed softly, her heart heavy with longing for the carefree days of their youth. "Sometimes," she admitted with a wistful smile, "But then I remember how far I’ve come since then. And I wouldn't trade where we are now for anything."
 "Me neither," he replied softly, reaching out to take her hand in his, "I'm grateful for every moment we've shared, even the difficult ones."
Beatrice squeezed his hand gently, her eyes shining with love and gratitude. "Me too," she murmured, leaning in to press a tender kiss to his lips, "I love you, Rooster. Always."
Rooster's heart skipped a beat at Beatrice's words, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion in her voice. "I love you too, Beatrice," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity, "Forever and always." he leans down to kiss her forehead.
Weird to have a romantic moment when Get Low by Lil Jon started playing.
Beatrice smiles up at him, “Are you having fun?”
He hums,hugging her close to press his lips to her forehead “...you know…I am,a little. It's definitely...an experience," he replied, his eyes scanning the room as the pulsating beat of the music filled the air.
The music continued to pulse around them, the energy of the crowd infectious as they danced together in the dimly lit room. Rooster held Beatrice close, his hands tracing gentle circles on her back as they watched the crowd.
It was…something, but at least those people were having fun.
"Hey, you know what?" Rooster said suddenly, his voice low and intimate as he looked into Beatrice's eyes, "I'm really glad we came here tonight. It's been...nice."
Beatrice smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling with affection. "Me too," she murmured softly, "It's been a wonderful night, I’m glad you are having fun.”
Rooster's smile widened at Beatrice's words,he held her a little tighter, kissing her forehead, thanks gorgeous. At some point, the DJ switched up the music, transitioning from upbeat dance tracks to slower, more romantic tunes. Rooster pulled Beatrice closer, "Remember this song?" Rooster murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he recognized the familiar melody.
Beatrice nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she leaned into him. "Of course I do," she replied, her voice soft and tender, "It was one of the first songs you played on the piano for me.”
“Yeah…’ he smirks, holding out his hand “Shall we?”
Beatrice's heart fluttered at Rooster's invitation, a warm glow spreading through her chest as she took his hand. She let him lead her to the center of the dance floor, their movements fluid and graceful as they swayed to the music.
As they danced, Beatrice couldn't help but lose herself in the moment, the world around them fading away as she focused solely on Rooster. His touch was electrifying, sending shivers down her spine as they moved together in perfect harmony.
Rooster held Beatrice close, his arms wrapped protectively around her as they moved to the rhythm of the music. He pressed his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers as they shared a tender moment together.
Beatrice gazed up at Rooster, her eyes shining with love and adoration as she lost herself in his gaze. In that moment, surrounded by the soft glow of the dance floor lights, she felt like the luckiest woman in the world.
The song came to an end, but Rooster didn't let go of Beatrice. Instead, he pulled her closer, his lips brushing against hers in a gentle kiss. Beatrice melted into his embrace, her heart overflowing with love for the man who held her in his arms.
"I love you," Rooster murmured against her lips, his voice filled with sincerity.
Beatrice smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "I love you too," she whispered back, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Thanks for…being here,by the way.”
“You don’t have to thank me,”
“I know but…” he frowns “You know I was very hesitant in coming here.”
Beatrice gently brushed a stray strand of hair away from Rooster's forehead, her touch tender as she looked into his eyes. "I understand," she said softly, "But I'm glad you decided to come."
Rooster's expression softened at Beatrice's words, a sense of warmth spreading through him. He leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin as he savored the moment. "I just needed a little push,gorgeous," he murmured, "You know that."
Beatrice smiled up at him, her heart swelling with love. "I do," she replied softly, "And I appreciate it more than you know. And I–”
“BRADSHAW!”
He grimaces. John.
Rooster's smile faltered as he heard John's voice cutting through the tender moment. He reluctantly pulled away from Beatrice, turning to face his old friend with a forced grin.
"Hey, John," Rooster greeted, his tone strained, "What's up?"
John swaggered over, his usual cocky grin plastered across his face. "Man, you gotta come check out this new bar I found," he exclaimed excitedly, clapping Rooster on the shoulder, "It's got the best drinks in town."
Rooster glanced back at Beatrice, a silent apology in his eyes as he tried to navigate the sudden interruption. "Actually, John, we were just about to head out," he replied, his tone firm, "Maybe next time."
John's grin faltered slightly at Rooster's rejection, but he quickly recovered, slinging an arm around Rooster's shoulder. "Aw, come on, man," he wheedled, "One drink won't hurt. Besides, I haven't seen you in ages."
Rooster exchanged a helpless look with Beatrice, silently pleading for her understanding. Beatrice nodded in response, a small smile playing at her lips as she squeezed Rooster's hand in reassurance.
"Fine, one drink," Rooster relented with a sigh, knowing that John wouldn't take no for an answer, "But my wife has to come with.”
John blinks “Wait…what? But this is a macho retreat man!”
Rooster's eyebrows shot up in surprise at John's response, his irritation growing at his friend's insistence on excluding Beatrice. He exchanged a quick glance with Beatrice, his expression tight with frustration.
"Sorry, John, but Beatrice is my wife," Rooster replied firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument, "And wherever I go, she goes."
Beatrice's heart swelled with pride at Rooster's words, her admiration for him growing with each passing moment. She squeezed his hand, silently thanking him for standing up for her.
John's expression darkened at Rooster's refusal, his annoyance evident as he glanced between them. "Fine," he muttered grudgingly, "But don't expect me to treat you any differently just because you're married now."
Rooster shrugged off John's attitude, his focus solely on Beatrice as he led her out of the room. "I wouldn't expect anything less," he replied coolly, "Let's just go and get this over with."
The bar was dimly lit and crowded, the sound of laughter and music filling the air as they entered. John led them to a corner booth, where their old friends were already gathered, beers in hand and smiles on their faces.
"Hey, look who finally decided to join us," one of them exclaimed, clapping Rooster on the back as they slid into the booth, "Thought you were too good for us now that you're married."
Rooster forced a smile, his discomfort growing as the conversation turned to their past exploits. He glanced at Beatrice, silently apologizing for dragging her into this mess.
But Beatrice just smiled at him.
He waits until she’s comfortable to sit down next to her, kissing her forehead ‘You okay with this?”
Beatrice nodded, her smile unwavering as she leaned into Rooster's touch. "I'm fine," she reassured him softly, "As long as I'm with you."
He pressed a tender kiss to her temple, silently thanking her for her support.
"Hey, Bradshaw, remember that time we crashed that party in college?" one of their friends exclaimed, his voice loud with excitement as he regaled them with tales of their wild youth.
Rooster forced a smile, nodding along with the story as memories of their reckless antics flooded his mind. “Sure…” he did not remember “It was…crazy,huh?”
Beatrice leaned in close to Rooster, her voice barely above a whisper as she spoke. "Do you really remember crashing that party?" she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.
Rooster shook his head slightly, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Not really," he admitted quietly, "But I'm not about to let them know that."
Beatrice chuckled softly, her hand reaching out to squeeze Rooster's thigh under the table. "Well, at least they seem to be having fun, and stopped…being weird i guess." she murmured, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Hey, Bradshaw, remember that time we went skydiving?" John then said and Bradley just furrowed his brows.
Rooster's confusion deepened at John's words, his brow furrowing as he tried to recall any memory of going skydiving with their friends. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't conjure up any recollection of such an event.
"I...don't remember that," Rooster replied slowly, his voice tinged with skepticism, "Are you sure we did that?"
John shrugged nonchalantly, taking a swig of his beer before replying. "Yeah, man, it was epic," he insisted, "We jumped out of a plane together, remember?"
Rooster exchanged a glance with Beatrice, his confusion mirrored in her eyes. "I'm pretty sure I would remember something like that," he said with a small frown, "Are you sure you're not thinking of someone else?"
"Of course I'm not thinking of someone else," he snapped, "You were there, Bradley. Don't you remember anything from our past?"
Rooster's frustration grew at John's insistence, his patience wearing thin as he tried to make sense of the situation.
Beatrice reached out to take Rooster's hand in hers, squeezing it gently as she met his gaze with a reassuring smile. "It's okay, Roos," she murmured softly, "We don't have to engage with this if it makes you uncomfortable."
Rooster nodded in agreement, a sense of relief washing over him as he leaned into Beatrice's touch. "Yeah, you're right," he replied gratefully, "Let's just enjoy the evening and forget about whatever weird alternate reality John is living in."
“I mean,is marriage life really taking that outta your brain?”
Rooster’s glare shifted to John who really should just shut the hell up “What?’
"Marriage life has nothing to do with it," Rooster replied evenly, his tone firm, "I just have a good memory for things that actually happened."
John's smirk faltered slightly at Rooster's pointed response, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his expression. "Hey, man, I was just joking," he said quickly, trying to diffuse the tension, "No need to get all worked up."
Rooster resisted the urge to roll his eyes, his patience wearing thin as he struggled to keep his temper in check. "Well, maybe next time you should think before you make jokes about someone's memory," he retorted, his voice tinged with annoyance.
John's attempt at a joke fell flat, the awkward silence that followed stretching on uncomfortably. Beatrice squeezed Rooster's hand reassuringly, shooting him a sympathetic glance as she tried to ease the tension.
"Anyway," John said finally, breaking the silence, "Let's not dwell on the past. We're here to have a good time, right?"
Rooster nodded in agreement, grateful for the change of subject. "Yeah, you're right," he replied with a forced smile, "Let's just enjoy the evening."
“But anyway,Brad,” John begins “Your ma,is she still around? And if so…is she single?”
Beatrice could barely stop her gasp or the blur that was her husband when he launched himself towards John “Roos!!”
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eisoj5 · 1 year
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Star Wars rare pairs fic reveals are up, so I can finally share the roguejedi fic I wrote for @islandbetweenrivers 😁 I had a LOT of fun writing it and am excited to share it with everyone the rest of this holiday season! More notes about this fic later, including my playlist 🎶
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brynnmclean · 1 year
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🗨️♥️ 😁
Josie!!! Very pleased to have the chance to yell a little about now I'm tracin' all my steps to you, even though picking ONE THING is very difficult. The entire concept of Depatar and their permits / paperwork for everything plus the hilarious things that Luke and Bodhi have to sign for is honestly endless amounts of hilarity and I salute you for bringing this fic to us. Here's the section I'm picking, though if you throw more ♥️s at me, I could come up with more!
They buy kebabs from a cart on a street corner between shops, braised brualki with spicy red peppers wedged onto skewers that Luke’s eager to get his hands on. But when Bodhi attempts to order Menkooro the owner of the food stand, a diminutive Ardennian, glowers and points two of her six hands directly at Luke. “How old is he?”
“What? Oh, he’s—” Bodhi throws a startled look over his shoulder. “Wait, how old are you?”
Luke gapes at him in dismay—how old does Bodhi think he is? “I’m twenty-five!”
“Are you sure?” The Ardennian narrows her eyes. “I don’t have a permit to sell to anyone younger than twenty-three.”
Luke beckons Ayy over a little frantically to show the identification tied to his ‘costume’ and therefore the permits. “I’ve been old enough to drink on my homeworld since I was a lot younger than twenty-three,” he mutters.
“Those rules don’t apply here,” Ayy reminds him, as the Ardennian looks over the datapad in question and, apparently mollified, sets a couple of tumblers and a bottle of Menkooro on her cart counter while Bodhi sorts through his credits to pay. “Although there’s at least one tapcafe on the other side of town that allows the consumption of mind-altering substances at an age you might find more amenable to your specific life experiences, so long as a minor’s designated guardian has—”
“Signed a permit, I got it,” Luke says. He eyes the tumblers. “Do we need one to be able to walk around with open drinks?”
Ayy beams at him and holds out the datapad. “Wonderful! You’re catching on!”
SO FUNNY!!! I also really love the commentary about how young Luke looks. Bodhi having no idea how old Luke is is very funny and also... #relatable.
For my 🗨️ with fell in love with the fire long ago, sorry I know I'm Mairon obsessed right now, but I'm overdue for talking about how much I enjoyed writing cat!Mairon making air biscuits and slow-blinking at Artanis:
“Don’t,” a voice drawls when she strides over and rests a hand on the top book.
It’s Mairon’s voice, soft and amused, coming from the direction of the window, the chair—the cat.
Artanis looks back and finds two golden eyes staring at her now. Mairon stretches one paw upward, flexing tiny claws.
“It’s not ready yet,” he says. “Besides, I left all my materials back at the Forge. It will be better when it isn’t on paper.”
Artanis has many things she wants to say, but what comes out of her mouth instead is, “Why are you a cat right now?”
Mairon rolls over and blinks at her very slowly, twice.
I heard Charlie Vickers's voice (how fondly amused he sounded when he said "don't start" in ROP to Galadriel!) and then... you know, I just think it's funny that Mairon feels free to say affectionate things in cat body language when he absolutely cannot say them with words just yet. (It's the slow blinks for me, folks!!!!)
[ask me about fic quotes!]
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tessiete · 3 years
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hi ive read like all your stuff about korkie is a kenobi in the span of about three days and i'm so EMOTIONAL?? it makes such narrative sense - star wars is a story about fathers and sons and what happens when mothers are lost and in eternal spring, when obi wan doesn't reject korkie, and korkie doesn't reject obi wan, and they love each other and accept each other despite the gaping hole that satine left in their relationship it like heals and breaks that cycle of little blonde boys being 1/
of little blonde boys being left in the desert without their mothers and with father figures who don't quite accept the responsibility of being a father to all of their detriments! it lets padme live, and it lets luke escape, and it lets everyone who wants to heal and work towards a better future. anyway, this is some Good Fucking Food and thank u for writing it. if you're still open to prompts i would really like to see some kryze-kenobi family bonding. just the three of them happy and together 
AH! This has been sitting so beautifully, and lovingly in my inbox for ages now, and I do apologise, but I just - I saw fluff and I panicked. I PANICKED!!!
And, as you can probably see, wrote reams of whump and h/c instead. But I tried.
Anyway, there is so much I want to say about this - I’m going to have to bookmark this whole thing just so I can come back again and again to your generous words. Thank you! I do have such a fondness for Eternal Spring, and whether or not it began as a joke, I am SO attached to the idea of Korkie as a Kenobi, the idea that blood isn’t always bad, that healing can happen, that good people make mistakes, that forgiveness IS an option - and I love how that aligns with the Pacifism of Satine’s New Mandalorians. I wish we had more of it (that insistent, unrelenting kindness and compassion) in SW, and Korkie is my little effort at that.
RANTING ASIDE, I hope you find and enjoy this little bit of fluff for the Kenobi-Kryzes. MUCH LOVE.
AND BY THE HAND LED
It was not Life Day. It was not Holyrod week, and Belli’s birthday had been a full ten month ago. Yet still, on this day, Kirokicek Kryze woke with the sun, and raced to his window where he could see the Sundari dockyard in the distance. 
Personal shuttles buzzed to and fro. Docking tugs hauled heavy freighters into place. Long, thin vactrains hurtled passengers from one platform to the next, or further on into the heart of the city. A few large ferries which had found mooring overnight made their ponderous voyage upwards, headed for the small opening at the apex of the Sundari dome. They were bound for transports anchored in wet space, the people aboard away for deep space travel to distant stars. 
Korkie watched as one neared the aperture, then, with incredible steadiness of hand, cleared the narrow gap with ease. He let go his breath, but his eyes remained fixed upon the opening. He was not much concerned with the ships that left, but instead found great interest in those ferries which were currently arriving.
They took turns - one in, one out - and with every exchange, Korkie felt as though the city was making room for a very special guest. One who loomed larger than life in his young consciousness, and one who occupied more and more space in his heart the closer he came.
Bebu was coming home.
A knock at his door was not enough to tear his attention from the spectacle outside, but he shuffled over to make room for his mother beside him at the window.
“Good morning, cyar'ika,” she said, pressing a kiss to his hair. “And what has got you up so early?”
She still wore her nightclothes beneath a fine gown of pressed velvet. Korkie leaned back into her embrace, stroking the soft fabric, and letting the warm, sweet smell of sleep wash over him.
“I’m watching the dockyards,” he said. “Look! Do you think that one of them has Bebu on it?”
Satine let her chin rest on the crown of his head, and followed his gaze to the sky.
“Perhaps,” she allowed. “Are you excited for your Bebu to come home?”
Korkie turned, trying to get a glimpse of her expression which could only be as teasing as his own was incredulous. She smiled.
“Excited, Belli?” he asked. “I am so, so, superlatively excited!”
“My,” she said, her face transforming to one of awe. “That is quite a superlative word you have discovered. Is it new?”
Korkie nodded. “I am saving it for Bebu, for our collection. Do you think he shall like it?”
“I think he shall be quite impressed, dinui.”
“I have another, but I always say it wrong, so I think I shall write it down, instead.”
“That is very wise,” she said. “For then there is no chance of misunderstanding, and then your father can teach you to speak it correctly.”
Korkie grinned, and squeezed her hand, so glad to be in such perfect accord. 
“That was exactly my plan, Belli!”
“Te jatne mind jo'lekir ti ast,” she said, laughing. “Now come.”
“Are we going to the docks?”
“Not yet,” she said. “First meal first, I think, and then we shall see.”
She stood from her place behind Korkie, and smoothed her skirts. The early morning sun fell kindly over her face, so that it lit her eyes from behind, like the facet of some bright gem. She held out her hand to him.
“But Belli -!”
“Is that fussing I hear coming out of your mouth?” she asked, the perfect image of confusion.
“No,” he conceded, hanging his head in defeat.
“I thought not,” she said. “Not my Korkie. Besides, we must first ensure that we are properly fed, and tidied before we appear at the docks. We cannot have our tummies grumbling and complaining while we are at the height of a superlative joy, now can we?”
“That would be rather distracting,” he allowed.
“And what would your father think if you showed up all bleary eyed, and sleep tousled? He’d hardly recognise you!”
“That’s not true,” protested Korkie. “He’d think me a ‘devoted legislator’. He said so last time.”
Satine cocked her head, a smirk curling in the corner of her mouth, and pinned just there, until such a time as she could give it to the owner of those borrowed words. 
“Well, cyare, I cannot think he meant it as a compliment,” she said, wiggling her fingers temptingly. “Now come - to firsts.
In the kitchens, his mother suggested they arrange a menu, scrounged from the conservator and pantry, while the staff set about preparing for the rest of their day.
“No need to bother anyone too much when it’s just us, right?” She placed a stool in front of an out of the way countertop, and held his hand while Korkie made a great leap to stand atop it. “Now, what are we hungry for?”
“Isbeans, and egg!” he cried. “With fresh muja juice!”
“Muja juice!” she echoed in surprise. “My, but we’re feeling quite indulgent today!”
“Well, it is a special occasion!” he said.
“Of course, you’re right. Muja juice it is. Anything else, ad’ika?”
He thought for a moment, but knowing how easily she had acceded to his first request, he concluded it most reasonable to forward several more.
“Perhaps some toast,” he said. “And flatcakes. And melon squares with black fire jelly? And then some moof milk and summerberries because they’ll go bad if we don’t eat them. With sucre crystals on the top. And maybe - only because Bebu says it’s healthy - a cup of kava. But just one, or I’ll be up all night.”
She crouched down to meet him, mischief sparkling in her eyes and not a word of protest at his requests. Instead, her tone was conspiratorial, as though they were together in some great game of hide and hunt. 
“Let’s brew a whole pot,” she said. “So that we may share it.”
He laughed in delight. Satine pulled down a tin of weava flour, and let him sprinkle the surface while she portioned out another measure into a shallow bowl for flatcakes. Under her careful eye, he cracked a tip-yip egg, and tipped in some sucre. She worked the mixture into a sticky dough, and portioned out small spheres for Korkie to press out upon the counter. Cook A’den looked on skeptically, but when his stack of raw discs began to pile up, she stepped in with a sigh, and a fond smile and lifted him on her hip while she fried them over a nano-cooker. 
As he worked, Satine gathered the berries and the milk, and a little pot of sucre. Helping hands piled plates high with toast, and ulik butter. Isbeans and hard boiled eggs followed, kept warm beneath heated domes. A whole pitcher of ice cold muja juice was produced from the conservator, and a fresh pot of kava was left to steep with wide, green leaves still in it. There was so much food that, in the end, a small cart was required to bear the fruits of their labours, while Korkie added the final touch of perfectly browned flatcakes.
Normally, they would eat their firsts in the family dining hall, but Satine insisted that she could not possibly do so while still dressed in her nightclothes.
“And scandalise the whole parliament? I think not, my very shocking dinui. No, it’s best we take everything back to my rooms, and eat there where no one will think us as uncivilised as we appear.”
So with many thanks to A’den, and her workers, Korkie followed his mother down the glistening marbloid halls with their wide windows. The sun was nearly all the way up, and the traffic in the sky had only increased since Korkie last looked. He was hit with the sudden realisation that perhaps many ferries had come and gone in his absence, and any one of them might contain his father. He raced to the window to check.
“Come along, Korkie,” said Satine. “Soon. I promise.”
Torn between food and the possibility that his father was waiting for him even now, Korkie gave into the demands of his hunger, and followed his mother down the hall.
They stopped outside her door, the cart pushed just off to the side. Satine looked at him appraisingly, smoothing one hand over his determinedly erstwhile hair.
“Oh dear,” she said, straightening his synfleece robe, as he reached for the cart to steal a summerberry from the pile. “You do look a sight. But I suppose it cannot be helped.”
She gave him a fond caress, her thumb tracing the swell of his little cheek with such reverence, and care that Korkie nearly felt guilty for snatching the fruit. But she smiled as he swallowed, and he supposed it must just have been one of those strange things buirs did from time to time, where they mixed up joy and sorrow and said nothing about it.
“I shall comb my hair later, Belli,” he offered. That seemed to do the trick, for she laughed, and stood, and gave his hand a brief squeeze.
“I will remember you said that,” she said. “Now, be a good boy and get the door for your Belli, would you?”
She returned to the cart, as he wiped his hands down the length of his robe, and reached for the palmpad. The door chimed, and slid aside with the barest sigh of air. Inside, Korkie could see that the curtains had been pulled back, and the room was flooded blue and gold with the oncoming day. Playful shadows danced across the floor where hanging tassels toyed with the sun. The carpet glistened like thick grass, lush and crowned in dew. A small table with three chairs sat to one side, and an old cloak lay thrown across it. There were boots, too large for his mother to wear, a belt too wide to be hers, and there, in the bed, swaddled in silkweed sheets and haloed by the sun, was Obi-Wan Kenobi, hovering on the edge of waking.
“Bebu!” Korkie shouted.
At his cry, Obi-Wan opened his eyes, and smiled, catching his son as raced across the floor and leapt upon the bed in a single motion. 
“Ah, ner wer'ika! Ni mirdir tion'tuur gar ru'kel olaror. Bic cuyir ori'udes tion'tuur gar cuyir dar.”
“Bebu!” Korkie cried again, laughing and wriggling with joy. His father lifted him over his head, holding him aloft as he made his cursory examination.
“Korkicek!” he groaned, as his strength gave out and Korkie tumbled atop his father’s chest in a tangle of limbs and blankets. “You must be very much grown since I last saw you, for you are getting too heavy for me!”
“No, I’m not, Bebu,” he said. “I’ve only grown two centimeteres since you were gone, and Belli says that’s only because I’m on a spurt.”
“Only two centimeters?” Obi-Wan demands. “Dear me, that’s not very much at all. I shall expect more diligence in your efforts at stretching if we are to make any serious headway in this matter.”
Korkie giggled. “Don’t be silly, Bebu,” he said. “I cannot stretch myself bigger. It takes time.”
“And heavy reading,” Obi-Wan agreed gravely.
“And good eating,” Satine added from behind them. She’d set the table in their distraction. Obi-Wan’s cloak now hung respectably from a hook by the fresher blind, and three plates sat waiting to be filled. The isbeans steamed, their skin crackling and blackened. The flatcakes dripped with galek syrup and butter. The summerberries shone plump and delectable in their precarious pyramid. The black fire jellies jiggled, and the muja juice sparkled.
“Is that fresh kava I smell?” asked Obi-Wan. 
“It is!” said Korkie. “And all sorts of things which Belli and I made! I suppose it’s a lucky thing we made so much extra, for now you can share it with us.”
“A lucky thing, indeed,” Obi-Wan agreed. He looked at Satine with such adoration that the smirk she had pinned up earlier unfurled completely and crossed her face in a radiant smile. 
“Come, Bebu,” said Korkie, taking his father’s hand in his. “Enough lazing about in bed. Let’s eat, or the kava will get cold.”
“Quite right,” Obi-Wan agreed, standing as Korkie slid to his feet beside him, and tugged him over to where Satine was waiting. “We can’t have that.”
“And you may have my cup as well,” added Korkie, magnanimously, “As it is truly a rotten drink, even if you say it is healthy. But since it is such a special day, I don’t think I should be forced to have it, anyway.”
“He drives a hard bargain, your son,” said Obi-Wan, leaning in to beg a small kiss.
“Ah, but of course,” said Satine, quick to grant his request. “He gets that from you, cyare.”
--
“Ah, ner wer'ika! Ni mirdir tion'tuur gar ru'kel olaror. Bic cuyir ori'udes tion'tuur gar cuyir dar.” - Ah, my little terror! I was wondering when you might show up. It has been far too quiet without you.
“Te jatne mind jo'lekir ti ast” - The best mind agrees with itself. (read: Great minds think alike.)
ad’ika, dinui, cyare - little one, gift, beloved.
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