Grogu’s Mama

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐏𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐒𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲

💙📚 sticky lungs; 1. 1968 by @/those2fireboys

💙📚 sticky lungs: 2. basic by @/those2fireboys

𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

💖💙📖 end and beginning by @mirrormauve

💙❤️‍🔥📖 the last day by @elflutter

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐏𝐢𝐤𝐞

💖📖 a holiday rescue by @noisynaia

𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐎𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐤

❤️‍🔥🖤📖 sin creeps in by @taintandviolent

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐑𝐨𝐲

❤️‍🔥🖤📚 asleep by @strang3lov3

❤️‍🔥🖤📚 sore loser by @strang3lov3

❤️‍🔥🖤📖 my treat by @strang3lov3

❤️‍🔥🖤📖 underfoot by @strang3lov3

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

💙📖 wish you were here... (Joel Miller x Tess Servopoulos)

💖📖 love to keep me warm (Din Djarin x F!Reader)

@stylesispunk Joel ‘Our little mistletoe’ + ‘Unholy Christmas’ 

@milla-frenchy Joel Dance With Me, Darlin’

@mothandpidgeon Joel Sing a Song of Sixpence

@alwaysbethewest Joel See Me After

@juletheghoul Joel Adversary

@covetyou Joel Solstice

@whocaresstillthelouvre Joel The Gingerbread Matchmaker / Javi G Does It Feel Like Christmas Now?

@tinytinymenace Joel Through

@nobedofroses Joel December 19 / Din December 20 / Marcus M December 21 / Pero December 22 /Whiskey December 23

@beefrobeefcal Joel Grandpa Joel & the 1994 Ford Aerostar Minivan / Dieter Alone Together 

@jolapeno Frankie Festive Encouragement 

@musings-of-a-rose Frankie My First, My Last, My Always

@wardenparker @absurdthirst Frankie Who Took the Merry Out of Christmas / Joel At the Ballet

@absurdthirst @storiesofthefandomlovers Din Riduur in Training / Joel The Christmas Auction

@ghostofskywalker Din Just Feels Right

@djarins-cyare Din Wedding Day

@crowandmousewritingco Din + Dieter We Liked Your Vibe / Max + Dave Locked Room Rivals

@schnarfer Dieter Fairytale of Dieter Bravo 

@the-blind-assassin-12 Dieter The Yule Lodge

@clawdeewritesfanfic Dieter Thawed

@ozarkthedog Dieter Yuletide Fate

@toomanystoriessolittletime Dieter Private Collection

@artemiseamoon Dieter Kiss Me Under the Mistletoe

@burntheedges Dieter Bits and Baubles / Din The Hunter

@inept-the-magnificent Marcus P Sign Here, Please

@frenchiereading Marcus P Novelty Socks

@noisynaia Marcus P A Holiday Rescue

@flightlessangelwings Ezra + Pero The Prospector, The Merc, and The Treasure Hunter

@anabdaniels Marcus A Local God

@perotovar Whiskey Cold

You are standing near the refreshment table, a glass of spiced wine in your hand, watching the cheerful chaos unfold before you. Your gaze drifts across the room, landing on Marcus, who is in the midst of animatedly chatting with a group of detectives, his smile infectious, and his laughter like music to your ears. You have harbored a crush on him since the day he started at the precinct, and tonight, with him looking so dashing under the twinkling lights, that crush feels more potent than ever. 

Just as you’re lost in your daydream of Marcus’s charming smile, the sound of a familiar voice cuts through the festive din. It’s Harold, the department’s oldest and most verbose agent, and he’s making a beeline for you. “Ah, there you are! I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the new policies coming in next year,” he begins, his voice booming over the festive music. His passion for regulations is palpable, and his eyes light up as he launches into a detailed explanation of compliance protocols, the words spilling out like a torrent as you nod politely.

You try to interject, to steer the conversation towards lighter topics, but Harold is in full flow, oblivious to your subtle attempts at diversion. He recounts every last detail, his hands animatedly gesturing, as you mentally calculate the number of holiday cookies you could have consumed instead of standing here. You definitely need another drink to endure this conversation. 

As Harold continues his monologue, you glance over at Marcus again, still engrossed in his chat with the detectives, the laughter radiating from their group like a beacon. A small pang of envy hits you; how easy it seems for him to connect with others, while you’re trapped in this policy discussion. But just then his head turns and your eyes lock across the room.   

Time seems to slow as you feel the warmth of his gaze wash over you, momentarily breaking through the haze of Harold’s relentless chatter. Marcus’s smile broadens, a genuine connection sparking between you like the twinkling lights around the room. He raises his glass in a playful toast, and for a heartbeat, it feels as if the chaotic buzz of the party fades away, leaving only the two of you in that shared moment. 

You lift your own glass in response, the spiced wine glinting in the soft light as you return his toast. The world around you blurs as you focus solely on Marcus, your heart racing with excitement and a hint of nervousness. His gaze is warm and inviting, making you feel as though you’re the only one in the room. 

You smile back at him, but not as broad as his. He seems to notice, raising a brow in a silent question. Just then, Harold’s voice breaks through the enchantment, his monologue picking up speed as he transitions to the next policy. You catch snippets about “streamlining processes” and “regulatory compliance,” but your thoughts are elsewhere. You can’t help but steal another glance at Marcus, who is still looking your way, seemingly unbothered by the raucous laughter surrounding him. 

You let out a little sigh, which Harold doesn’t seem to even register, as you try to focus enough on the conversation to hum along at the right times and ad and “oh, really,” at the appropriate time. But you can’t help but look over in the direction of Marcus again. You heal how your heart softly flutters in your chest as you watch him make his way through the crowd in your direction. 

“Hey there!” Marcus calls out, his voice cutting through the festive noise with a warmth that sends a thrill through you. He stops just in front of you, his gaze shifting from you to Harold and then back to you. a gentle smile lingering on his face.

“Hey,” you say back, your voice a mix of surprise and excitement, momentarily forgetting all about Harold’s policy monologue. You’re suddenly aware of how the spiced wine feels warm in your hand, and how the alcohol is warming you up from the inside. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Marcus asks, his tone light and polite as he glances at Harold, who immediately seems to deflate under the charming weight of Marcus’s presence.

“Oh, not at all!” Harold replies. “Just discussing the new compliance protocols for next year. Absolutely riveting stuff, I assure you.” 

“Oh, I can imagine. You must tell me about them after the holidays,” Marcus says, his smile is easy, and the way he leans casually against the table makes your heart skip a beat as he turns to you again. “I’ve been meaning to talk with you all night. I need to ask you about something for the report on the Sollery case.”

You can’t help but smile. There is no Sollery case, but you’re not about to correct him. Instead you play along, immensely grateful for Marcus’ graceful way of saving you from Harold’s relentless monologue. “Of course,” you reply, your heart racing as you revel in the attention. The warmth of the spiced wine seems to spread throughout your body, mingling with the butterflies flitting around in your stomach.

You say a polite goodbye to Harold before he can dive back into another detailed explanation of compliance, the relief washing over you as you follow Marcus to a quieter corner in the other end of the room. The festive music swells around you, but it feels like a distant hum compared to the electricity crackling between you and Marcus.

“So, what do you need to know about the ‘Sollery case’?” you ask, a teasing lilt to your voice, eager to maintain the playful banter. 

He chuckles softly, his brown eyes shining as he looks at you, a slight flush is dusting his cheeks, from the alcohol you assume. He looks adorable. 

“You looked like you needed a rescue,” he replies, his voice low and conspiratorial, “and I just couldn’t let you endure another second of Harold’s riveting lecture on compliance protocols. I mean, I love the guy, but sometimes it feels like listening to paint dry.”

You let out a genuine laugh, the sound buoyed by the atmosphere around you. “You have no idea how grateful I am. I was convinced I’d have to start counting the decorations on the tree just to stay awake.”

Marcus grins, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Well, I’m glad I could save you. I can’t let our brightest officer fall asleep at the Christmas party. That would be a tragedy.” 

He nudges you playfully with his elbow, and you feel your heart race at the light touch.

“And uhm, speaking of saving,” he continues, his expression turning slightly more serious but still warm, the flush on his cheeks  darkening just the slightest. “I was wondering if you’d like to come over to my place after this? I have a bottle of whiskey that I think we could both use after the year we’ve had.”

Your breath catches for a moment, the invitation hanging in the air between you like the lighted ornaments strung above your heads. “Whiskey?” you ask, feigning nonchalance while your heart races with excitement. “What kind?”

“Only the best,” he replies, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “I promise it’s not eggnog.”

You laugh, feeling the tension ease slightly. There’s something about the way he looks at you, something that makes you feel seen in a way that you haven’t before. “Well, I do like whiskey,” you say, your voice teasing. 

“Great,” he says, his smile broadening, and you can’t help but feel a swell of happiness at his invitation. This is more than just a drink; it feels like a chance to finally connect with him outside of work, away from the watchful eyes of colleagues.

You take a sip of your spiced wine, trying to calm the excitement bubbling within you. You stay at the party for a bit, chatting and laughing with your colleagues together with Marcus, the warmth of his presence enveloping you like a cozy blanket. After about an hour Marcus leans in a little. “Ready to get out of here?” 

You nod eagerly, a smile spreading across your face at the thought of leaving the crowded FBI office behind. “Absolutely,” you reply, your voice light with anticipation. The idea of spending time alone with Marcus makes your heart flutter, and you feel a rush of excitement as you both make your way towards the exit.

The cold december air hits you as you step outside, a stark contrast to the warmth of the office, but it’s refreshing. Marcus walks beside you, his presence comforting as you both navigate the snow-dusted sidewalk. The streetlights shimmer against the night sky. You make light conversation as you walk towards the metro station. 

The city is alive with holiday lights, casting a warm glow over the streets. You can’t help but steal glances at Marcus as you walk next to him, the way he moves with a casual confidence, his laughter still echoing in your ears. The anticipation of what the night holds has your heart racing, a mix of nerves and excitement simmering just beneath the surface.

As you approach the metro station, the atmosphere shifts slightly. The previous bustle of the office party has now faded  completely into the background of your mind, and the intimate setting with just you and Marcus now feels charged with a new energy. You both descend the steps to the platform, the sound of your footsteps echoing off the concrete walls.

“So,” Marcus begins, his tone light, “how are you spending your holiday season this year?”

You chuckle, leaning against the cool metal railing. “Alone,” you admit with a playful shrug, trying to keep the mood light. “Just me, some takeout, and a few too many holiday movies. The usual.”

Marcus raises an eyebrow, a hint of disbelief mixed with amusement playing on his lips. “Alone? What about family or friends?”

“I mean, I have family, but they’re several states away, and I’d rather not deal with the holiday chaos,” you reply, a hint of defensiveness slipping into your tone. “Plus, my couch and a good movie sound pretty appealing right now.”

“Fair enough,” he says, his expression softening. “I’m spending Christmas alone too this year—just me and a stack of books I’ve been meaning to tackle.” He chuckles, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “I guess we’re both in the same boat, huh?”

“You’re not going back to Texas over the break?”

“Nah, I decided to stay here this year. I love my family, and it would be nice to see them, but a lot happened back home before I transferred. Kind of left there heartbroken and I’m not sure I’m ready to go back just yet, even though I’m mostly over it,” he replies, glancing at you with a slightly embarrassed smile.

You nod in understanding, the weight of his words resonating with you. You open your mouth, you want to say something, even though you’re not even sure about what to say, but then the train arrives with a rush of wind and a clatter of metal on metal. You both step back, momentarily distracted by its arrival. As it slows to a halt, the doors slide open.

Marcus gestures for you to enter first, and you can’t help but notice the way he stands just a little closer than necessary, the warmth of his body radiating towards you. You step into the metro car and find a place to settle in, the metallic seats cool against your skin. Marcus sits beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours, sending a thrill of excitement through you.

As the train starts moving, the rhythmic clattering of the tracks fills the silence, and you glance sideways at Marcus. He’s looking out the window, the lights reflecting in his eyes, and for a moment, you just take him in. There’s something undeniably comforting about being with him, an ease that feels almost electric.

“Is it your first time spending Christmas alone?” you ask, breaking the comfortable silence, your voice soft. “It’s my first time, my first time spending the whole holiday alone…  I’m starting to worry it might be a bit lonely.”

He turns his gaze back to you, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, it is my first time, but it’s just a few days, right? I think it might be good though, to have some time to regroup. Plus,” he adds with a smirk, “I can’t wait to binge-watch whatever I want, I haven’t had time to watch a show in ages.”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up easily. “True! That’s a definite perk.”

“And, you know, if I’m lucky, I might even get to finish that book series I’ve been meaning to read,” he says, an excited, almost boyish, glint in his eyes.

“What series?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“It’s a fantasy series,” he replies, his enthusiasm infectious. “It’s about dragons and magic and all that good stuff. I know it sounds really nerdy, but it’s amazing!”

You can’t help but let out a little chuckle, hiding your mouth behind your glove covered hand. He really doesn’t have any idea about how adorable he is, and it warms your heart. “Of course, you’re a fantasy nerd,” you giggle, shaking your head gently.  

 Marcus feigns offense, his eyes widening in mock indignation. “I’ll have you know that fantasy is a very legitimate genre! It’s all about world-building, character development, and epic battles. Plus, who wouldn’t want to ride a dragon?” He leans in closer, a playful glint in his eyes, and you can’t help but lean in too, drawn by his enthusiasm.

“Okay, okay, you make a compelling argument,” you concede, laughter still dancing in your voice.

“Seriously, you should give it a try. I think you will like it actually.”

“I might just take you up on that,” you say, your heart racing with the idea of sharing something with him. “Maybe I’ll start it over the holidays,” you reply, smiling at him. “I could use some good escapism.”

He smiLes at you, but you don’t get to talk more about it. The train begins to slow as it approaches your stop, and Marcus shifts slightly, his arm brushing against yours again. You feel a warmth spreading through you, a sense of closeness that makes your heart flutter.

As the doors slide open, you both step out into the crisp night air. The walk to his place is short but filled with light-hearted banter and laughter.

Finally, you reach his townhouse. Unlocking the door, Marcus leads you inside, turning on the light of the hallway as he closes the door behind you. He takes your coat hanging it on the coat hanger while you take off your boots before showing you to the living room. The cozy setting, filled with soft light and comfy looking furniture, feels welcoming and familiar.

Marcus moves to the kitchen, and you take a moment to look around. The walls are lined with shelves filled with books, and a few framed pictures catch your eye—some of him with friends, others of family, and one of him as a kid with a goofy grin on his face.

“Make yourself at home,” he calls out from the other room, you can hear the clink of glasses.

You settle onto the plush couch, feeling a wave of contentment wash over you as you sink into the cushions. The warmth of the room envelops you, and you can’t help but smile softly as you take it all in. 

Moments later, he reappears with two glasses in hand, a bottle of whiskey perched under his arm. “I hope you like it neat,” he says, pouring a generous amount into each glass and handing one to you. “Cheers to a surprisingly delightful holiday evening.”

You clink your glass against his, the sound ringing with a sense of promise. “Cheers,” you echo, taking a sip. The rich, smooth flavor warms you from the inside out, and you savor the moment. “Thank you for having me, and thank you for saving me from Harold earlier.” 

Marcus chuckles, the sound warm and genuine. “Anytime. I’d take a night with you over compliance protocols any day,” he replies, leaning back against the couch, his glass resting comfortably in his hand.

“Ditto,” you smile in response. You watch him, the way his eyes light up when he talks, how he seems to genuinely enjoy your company. The atmosphere is relaxed, filled with the soft hum of distant holiday music coming from his speakers. The tension you felt earlier at the party has melted away, replaced by a sense of ease that envelops you both.

“You know…” Marcus’ expression changes as he leans forward to put his glass down on the coffee table. “I was thinking… Since you are spending the holiday alone, and I’m spending it alone, and you said you were scared that it might get lonely…” He takes a deep breath before continuing and you feel your heart fluttering in your chest as you realize where this is going. “Maybe... we could make it a little less lonely together?” His voice is soft yet hopeful, and you can see the sincerity in his brown eyes.

Your heart skips a beat at the suggestion. “That sounds nice.”

“It does?” 

“Yeah, it really does,” you respond, your voice steady despite the fluttering excitement beneath the surface. “I’d love to spend the holiday with you. It sounds… perfect, actually.”

A smile spreads across Marcus’s face, a mix of relief and joy that makes your heart swell. “Yeah, really perfect...”

You are standing near the refreshment table, a glass of spiced wine in your hand, watching the cheerful chaos unfold before you. Your gaze drifts across the room, landing on Marcus, who is in the midst of animatedly chatting with a group of detectives, his smile infectious, and his laughter like music to your ears. You have harbored a crush on him since the day he started at the precinct, and tonight, with him looking so dashing under the twinkling lights, that crush feels more potent than ever. 

Just as you’re lost in your daydream of Marcus’s charming smile, the sound of a familiar voice cuts through the festive din. It’s Harold, the department’s oldest and most verbose agent, and he’s making a beeline for you. “Ah, there you are! I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the new policies coming in next year,” he begins, his voice booming over the festive music. His passion for regulations is palpable, and his eyes light up as he launches into a detailed explanation of compliance protocols, the words spilling out like a torrent as you nod politely.

You try to interject, to steer the conversation towards lighter topics, but Harold is in full flow, oblivious to your subtle attempts at diversion. He recounts every last detail, his hands animatedly gesturing, as you mentally calculate the number of holiday cookies you could have consumed instead of standing here. You definitely need another drink to endure this conversation. 

As Harold continues his monologue, you glance over at Marcus again, still engrossed in his chat with the detectives, the laughter radiating from their group like a beacon. A small pang of envy hits you; how easy it seems for him to connect with others, while you’re trapped in this policy discussion. But just then his head turns and your eyes lock across the room.   

Time seems to slow as you feel the warmth of his gaze wash over you, momentarily breaking through the haze of Harold’s relentless chatter. Marcus’s smile broadens, a genuine connection sparking between you like the twinkling lights around the room. He raises his glass in a playful toast, and for a heartbeat, it feels as if the chaotic buzz of the party fades away, leaving only the two of you in that shared moment. 

You lift your own glass in response, the spiced wine glinting in the soft light as you return his toast. The world around you blurs as you focus solely on Marcus, your heart racing with excitement and a hint of nervousness. His gaze is warm and inviting, making you feel as though you’re the only one in the room. 

You smile back at him, but not as broad as his. He seems to notice, raising a brow in a silent question. Just then, Harold’s voice breaks through the enchantment, his monologue picking up speed as he transitions to the next policy. You catch snippets about “streamlining processes” and “regulatory compliance,” but your thoughts are elsewhere. You can’t help but steal another glance at Marcus, who is still looking your way, seemingly unbothered by the raucous laughter surrounding him. 

You let out a little sigh, which Harold doesn’t seem to even register, as you try to focus enough on the conversation to hum along at the right times and ad and “oh, really,” at the appropriate time. But you can’t help but look over in the direction of Marcus again. You heal how your heart softly flutters in your chest as you watch him make his way through the crowd in your direction. 

“Hey there!” Marcus calls out, his voice cutting through the festive noise with a warmth that sends a thrill through you. He stops just in front of you, his gaze shifting from you to Harold and then back to you. a gentle smile lingering on his face.

“Hey,” you say back, your voice a mix of surprise and excitement, momentarily forgetting all about Harold’s policy monologue. You’re suddenly aware of how the spiced wine feels warm in your hand, and how the alcohol is warming you up from the inside. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Marcus asks, his tone light and polite as he glances at Harold, who immediately seems to deflate under the charming weight of Marcus’s presence.

“Oh, not at all!” Harold replies. “Just discussing the new compliance protocols for next year. Absolutely riveting stuff, I assure you.” 

“Oh, I can imagine. You must tell me about them after the holidays,” Marcus says, his smile is easy, and the way he leans casually against the table makes your heart skip a beat as he turns to you again. “I’ve been meaning to talk with you all night. I need to ask you about something for the report on the Sollery case.”

You can’t help but smile. There is no Sollery case, but you’re not about to correct him. Instead you play along, immensely grateful for Marcus’ graceful way of saving you from Harold’s relentless monologue. “Of course,” you reply, your heart racing as you revel in the attention. The warmth of the spiced wine seems to spread throughout your body, mingling with the butterflies flitting around in your stomach.

You say a polite goodbye to Harold before he can dive back into another detailed explanation of compliance, the relief washing over you as you follow Marcus to a quieter corner in the other end of the room. The festive music swells around you, but it feels like a distant hum compared to the electricity crackling between you and Marcus.

“So, what do you need to know about the ‘Sollery case’?” you ask, a teasing lilt to your voice, eager to maintain the playful banter. 

He chuckles softly, his brown eyes shining as he looks at you, a slight flush is dusting his cheeks, from the alcohol you assume. He looks adorable. 

“You looked like you needed a rescue,” he replies, his voice low and conspiratorial, “and I just couldn’t let you endure another second of Harold’s riveting lecture on compliance protocols. I mean, I love the guy, but sometimes it feels like listening to paint dry.”

You let out a genuine laugh, the sound buoyed by the atmosphere around you. “You have no idea how grateful I am. I was convinced I’d have to start counting the decorations on the tree just to stay awake.”

Marcus grins, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Well, I’m glad I could save you. I can’t let our brightest officer fall asleep at the Christmas party. That would be a tragedy.” 

He nudges you playfully with his elbow, and you feel your heart race at the light touch.

“And uhm, speaking of saving,” he continues, his expression turning slightly more serious but still warm, the flush on his cheeks  darkening just the slightest. “I was wondering if you’d like to come over to my place after this? I have a bottle of whiskey that I think we could both use after the year we’ve had.”

Your breath catches for a moment, the invitation hanging in the air between you like the lighted ornaments strung above your heads. “Whiskey?” you ask, feigning nonchalance while your heart races with excitement. “What kind?”

“Only the best,” he replies, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “I promise it’s not eggnog.”

You laugh, feeling the tension ease slightly. There’s something about the way he looks at you, something that makes you feel seen in a way that you haven’t before. “Well, I do like whiskey,” you say, your voice teasing. 

“Great,” he says, his smile broadening, and you can’t help but feel a swell of happiness at his invitation. This is more than just a drink; it feels like a chance to finally connect with him outside of work, away from the watchful eyes of colleagues.

You take a sip of your spiced wine, trying to calm the excitement bubbling within you. You stay at the party for a bit, chatting and laughing with your colleagues together with Marcus, the warmth of his presence enveloping you like a cozy blanket. After about an hour Marcus leans in a little. “Ready to get out of here?” 

You nod eagerly, a smile spreading across your face at the thought of leaving the crowded FBI office behind. “Absolutely,” you reply, your voice light with anticipation. The idea of spending time alone with Marcus makes your heart flutter, and you feel a rush of excitement as you both make your way towards the exit.

The cold december air hits you as you step outside, a stark contrast to the warmth of the office, but it’s refreshing. Marcus walks beside you, his presence comforting as you both navigate the snow-dusted sidewalk. The streetlights shimmer against the night sky. You make light conversation as you walk towards the metro station. 

The city is alive with holiday lights, casting a warm glow over the streets. You can’t help but steal glances at Marcus as you walk next to him, the way he moves with a casual confidence, his laughter still echoing in your ears. The anticipation of what the night holds has your heart racing, a mix of nerves and excitement simmering just beneath the surface.

As you approach the metro station, the atmosphere shifts slightly. The previous bustle of the office party has now faded  completely into the background of your mind, and the intimate setting with just you and Marcus now feels charged with a new energy. You both descend the steps to the platform, the sound of your footsteps echoing off the concrete walls.

“So,” Marcus begins, his tone light, “how are you spending your holiday season this year?”

You chuckle, leaning against the cool metal railing. “Alone,” you admit with a playful shrug, trying to keep the mood light. “Just me, some takeout, and a few too many holiday movies. The usual.”

Marcus raises an eyebrow, a hint of disbelief mixed with amusement playing on his lips. “Alone? What about family or friends?”

“I mean, I have family, but they’re several states away, and I’d rather not deal with the holiday chaos,” you reply, a hint of defensiveness slipping into your tone. “Plus, my couch and a good movie sound pretty appealing right now.”

“Fair enough,” he says, his expression softening. “I’m spending Christmas alone too this year—just me and a stack of books I’ve been meaning to tackle.” He chuckles, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “I guess we’re both in the same boat, huh?”

“You’re not going back to Texas over the break?”

“Nah, I decided to stay here this year. I love my family, and it would be nice to see them, but a lot happened back home before I transferred. Kind of left there heartbroken and I’m not sure I’m ready to go back just yet, even though I’m mostly over it,” he replies, glancing at you with a slightly embarrassed smile.

You nod in understanding, the weight of his words resonating with you. You open your mouth, you want to say something, even though you’re not even sure about what to say, but then the train arrives with a rush of wind and a clatter of metal on metal. You both step back, momentarily distracted by its arrival. As it slows to a halt, the doors slide open.

Marcus gestures for you to enter first, and you can’t help but notice the way he stands just a little closer than necessary, the warmth of his body radiating towards you. You step into the metro car and find a place to settle in, the metallic seats cool against your skin. Marcus sits beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours, sending a thrill of excitement through you.

As the train starts moving, the rhythmic clattering of the tracks fills the silence, and you glance sideways at Marcus. He’s looking out the window, the lights reflecting in his eyes, and for a moment, you just take him in. There’s something undeniably comforting about being with him, an ease that feels almost electric.

“Is it your first time spending Christmas alone?” you ask, breaking the comfortable silence, your voice soft. “It’s my first time, my first time spending the whole holiday alone…  I’m starting to worry it might be a bit lonely.”

He turns his gaze back to you, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, it is my first time, but it’s just a few days, right? I think it might be good though, to have some time to regroup. Plus,” he adds with a smirk, “I can’t wait to binge-watch whatever I want, I haven’t had time to watch a show in ages.”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up easily. “True! That’s a definite perk.”

“And, you know, if I’m lucky, I might even get to finish that book series I’ve been meaning to read,” he says, an excited, almost boyish, glint in his eyes.

“What series?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“It’s a fantasy series,” he replies, his enthusiasm infectious. “It’s about dragons and magic and all that good stuff. I know it sounds really nerdy, but it’s amazing!”

You can’t help but let out a little chuckle, hiding your mouth behind your glove covered hand. He really doesn’t have any idea about how adorable he is, and it warms your heart. “Of course, you’re a fantasy nerd,” you giggle, shaking your head gently.  

 Marcus feigns offense, his eyes widening in mock indignation. “I’ll have you know that fantasy is a very legitimate genre! It’s all about world-building, character development, and epic battles. Plus, who wouldn’t want to ride a dragon?” He leans in closer, a playful glint in his eyes, and you can’t help but lean in too, drawn by his enthusiasm.

“Okay, okay, you make a compelling argument,” you concede, laughter still dancing in your voice.

“Seriously, you should give it a try. I think you will like it actually.”

“I might just take you up on that,” you say, your heart racing with the idea of sharing something with him. “Maybe I’ll start it over the holidays,” you reply, smiling at him. “I could use some good escapism.”

He smiLes at you, but you don’t get to talk more about it. The train begins to slow as it approaches your stop, and Marcus shifts slightly, his arm brushing against yours again. You feel a warmth spreading through you, a sense of closeness that makes your heart flutter.

As the doors slide open, you both step out into the crisp night air. The walk to his place is short but filled with light-hearted banter and laughter.

Finally, you reach his townhouse. Unlocking the door, Marcus leads you inside, turning on the light of the hallway as he closes the door behind you. He takes your coat hanging it on the coat hanger while you take off your boots before showing you to the living room. The cozy setting, filled with soft light and comfy looking furniture, feels welcoming and familiar.

Marcus moves to the kitchen, and you take a moment to look around. The walls are lined with shelves filled with books, and a few framed pictures catch your eye—some of him with friends, others of family, and one of him as a kid with a goofy grin on his face.

“Make yourself at home,” he calls out from the other room, you can hear the clink of glasses.

You settle onto the plush couch, feeling a wave of contentment wash over you as you sink into the cushions. The warmth of the room envelops you, and you can’t help but smile softly as you take it all in. 

Moments later, he reappears with two glasses in hand, a bottle of whiskey perched under his arm. “I hope you like it neat,” he says, pouring a generous amount into each glass and handing one to you. “Cheers to a surprisingly delightful holiday evening.”

You clink your glass against his, the sound ringing with a sense of promise. “Cheers,” you echo, taking a sip. The rich, smooth flavor warms you from the inside out, and you savor the moment. “Thank you for having me, and thank you for saving me from Harold earlier.” 

Marcus chuckles, the sound warm and genuine. “Anytime. I’d take a night with you over compliance protocols any day,” he replies, leaning back against the couch, his glass resting comfortably in his hand.

“Ditto,” you smile in response. You watch him, the way his eyes light up when he talks, how he seems to genuinely enjoy your company. The atmosphere is relaxed, filled with the soft hum of distant holiday music coming from his speakers. The tension you felt earlier at the party has melted away, replaced by a sense of ease that envelops you both.

“You know…” Marcus’ expression changes as he leans forward to put his glass down on the coffee table. “I was thinking… Since you are spending the holiday alone, and I’m spending it alone, and you said you were scared that it might get lonely…” He takes a deep breath before continuing and you feel your heart fluttering in your chest as you realize where this is going. “Maybe... we could make it a little less lonely together?” His voice is soft yet hopeful, and you can see the sincerity in his brown eyes.

Your heart skips a beat at the suggestion. “That sounds nice.”

“It does?” 

“Yeah, it really does,” you respond, your voice steady despite the fluttering excitement beneath the surface. “I’d love to spend the holiday with you. It sounds… perfect, actually.”

A smile spreads across Marcus’s face, a mix of relief and joy that makes your heart swell. “Yeah, really perfect...”

He had been sitting in the sad hotel room after just ending a facetime call from you. The view of you and Grogu with his little button nose and big eyes had been too much. The thought of not being able to hold either of you in his arms until the new year had been unbearable, so he stood up and packed his things. There was no way he was going to spend Christmas without the two of you.

It had not been possible to get a flight with such a short notice this close to Christmas eve. Din had made a quick decision, renting the first car he could get his hands on and started on the eight hour drive home. It is not the first Christmas after getting with you, he has had to be away, do to work. He has always hated having to leave you, even though the holiday season is not something Din has ever really cared for; he is usually already over it by the end of November, but that was before he had met you, and becoming a father is what really has tipped his view on the holiday season. He is not going to miss Christmas this year. 

· · ❄︎ · ·

You are staring blankly into the oven where the cookies you have made are baking. You had got up early this morning to get everything ready.

Grogu is sitting in his highchair at the kitchen table, happily munching on the grapes you just had cut for him. It’s around 11 am on the 24th and you have managed to finish about all of the things that needed to be finished by now. All of the gifts have been wrapped, the guest room made ready for your guests and the entire house has been cleaned. You are happy, you are going to spend your first Christmas with Grogu, and even though he is too young to really understand what’s going on you want it to be a good one. But you are feeling a bit sad as well. You had really wished that Din would have been home to experience it with you… 

You know how bad he feels when he has to leave for work, but this time had been especially bad. It has been a recurring thing through your entire relationship and, even though you miss him when he is gone, you have never had a problem with it. That has changed after adopting Grogu, Din’s absence feels stronger now, and you know that Din is feeling awful every time he has to go. He had looked sad when you had facetimed in the morning, his eyes had told you how bad he wanted to be home, he had smiled for Grogus sake, but you know him too well and can look through his facade.                   

You are lost in thoughts about Din and how you had hoped he was here with you right now when the sound of the doorbell brings you back to reality. You get yourself together and pick Grogu, who has just finished his snack, up from his chair and settle him on your hip, bringing him with you to the door to let your guests in.

Peli is standing in the door with a giant smile on her face, Greef is standing behind her, his face and torso completely hidden behind the crazy amount of presents he is holding in his arms that you know most of are for Grogu. Peli and Greef are not Din’s real parents, but they might as well be, and they definitely have taken on the role as grandparents after you and Din have gotten Grogu.               

“Look who is here Grogu!” You say to your son, bouncing him gently on your hip. 

“Is that my big boy!” Peli exclames, holding her arms out for him.    

The little boy hides his face in the crook of your neck as you greet your guests and lovingly scolds them for going way overboard with the gifts, but it doesn’t take long before he peeks out from his hiding spot, offering Peli and Karga a shy smile and a little ‘hi’. He is usually a total chatterbox, often cooing and babbling to you and Din or at his beloved frog stuffie, but he hasn’t really begun talking yet. His vocabulary contains of about five words which are; hi, which he uses generously when shyness doesn’t overtake him. Tanks, his version of thanks, which he also is using a lot, he really is a polite little boy. Then there is booie, which he happily squeals every time his favourite cartoon dog is on the tv. Fog, which is his version of the word frog, (his favourite animal) he might have an unfortunate pronunciation, but he is so cute when he says it that it doesn’t matter. And last but not least ‘patu’ which neither you or Din can figure out what actually means, but the little boy loves saying it and it has a very cute sound to it.  

“Don’t go all shy on me now! We were best of friends the last time I saw you.” Peli whines and Grogu is luckily quick to lose the last of his shyness, sticking his little arms out for Peli to hold him. You hand him over and instead take some of the many gifts from Greef so he can get through the door and get his coat off.  

· · ❄︎ · · 

The four of you are having a cosy day together. You decorated cookies and went for a walk in the snow, Grogu had laughed every time a snowflake landed on his nose or one of his cute chubby cheeks, you truly are grateful for seeing him being such a happy little boy. You and Greef are in the kitchen now, the cheerful sound of Ella Fitzgerald's ‘Santa Claus Got Stuck in My Chimney’ sounding from the radio while Peli is playing with Grogu in the living room. You are preparing the potatoes and side dishes while Greef is in charge of the meat. You can’t help but tell him about how you wish Din could have been here with you all, allowing yourself to feel a little sad again now that Peli is distracting Grogu. 

“I know that he wishes he could be here too.” Din’s father figure assures you with a sympathetic look.     

“But do you think he would be willing to give it up ?” You can’t help but ask, you know how much Din cares about his work, but him missing out on important things with Grogu doesn’t make it seem worth it to you. 

Greef is about to open his mouth to answer you when you are interrupted by the glow from a pair of headlights from your driveway which surprises you, you’re not expecting any other guests and you have never heard of Christmas carolers coming by car. You only get to wonder who it can be for a few seconds before you hear the doorbell ring. You remove your apron and wipe your hands on a dishtowel before you go to open the front door. The surprise of who is standing on the doorstep is overwhelming and you can barely believe that he is real. In front of you stands a very tired looking Din, his hair is messy and he. You are standing frozen by shock and surprise for a few seconds before you crash forward into his arms. He hugs you tight against his chest and you feel your eyes getting watery. 

“What are you doing here?” You croak through happy tears. 

“I came home for Christmas.” He says it so matter of factly that you can’t help but laugh. 

“But what about-” You begin, but are cut off by his lips being pressed against your own. 

“It’s not worth it, not if I’ll have to miss out on this.” He whispers into your mouth as he gently caresses your cheekbone with his knuckles.   

You are completely engulfed by Din’s embrace and so dumbfounded by the fact that he’s here that you make a little jump of surprise when a loud happy shriek is heard from behind you. In the door stands Peli with Grogu in her arms whose face is about to be split in half by the giant smile on his face. Karga stands behind them with a hand on Peli’s shoulder, smiling warmly still wearing his Rudolfh the reindeer apron. 

Grogu is fidgeting in Peli’s arms and she sets him down and the second he makes contact with the floor he excitedly whaddle-runs towards you on his little toddler legs. The view of your little boy running up to you makes you feel like your heart might burst. And even though a part of you wants to never be released from Din’s embrace, you have no hard feelings when Din let go of you to kneel down and take his sons into his arms. Grogu laughs loudly as Din stands up, planting a kiss on his son's chubby cheek and blows a raspberry for good measure. 

“Missed you too buddy.” Your husband says in the gentlest of voice as Grogu plants a tiny hand on each of Din’s cheeks. “Pa!” He shrieks happily at Din, probably too excited to pronounce his usual ‘patu’ you assume, but then he catches you by surprise as he happily exclaims an almost perfect. “Papa!” 

Grogu laughs at Din’s surprised face, before turning his head to look at you with a proud look on his little face. From your eyes, that already were damp by the surprise of Din’s homecoming, fresh warm tears are falling down your face. Din makes a choked sound from deep inside his chest and looks at you, his entire face lit up and his warm brown eyes blown wide by surprise and happiness. “Did you hear that?!” 

“Yeah, I did.” You nod with a big smile on your face. 

Din takes a step over to you, holding Grogu with one arm and sliding the other one around you, holding the two most important people in his life tight. 

The three of you stand like this for a long moment before Grogu gets impatient and begins to wiggle to be sat down. Din obliges, setting him down on the doormat from where he walks back to Peli and Greef who both have big smiles on their faces. You and Din stay for a brief moment, needing a little moment alone before going in to join them. Din holding you tight as he wipes away a tear from under your eye with a gentle thumb 

“I can’t believe you’re here.” You whisper.

Din kiss your lips softly before answering. “Me neither, but I just couldn’t miss this.” He shakes his head lightly, the corner of his eyes shining with dampness. You can’t believe how lucky you are to have him, he had had a hard time showing his emotions in the beginning of your relationship, but he has always had a big and loving heart and getting to see him getting more and more comfortable with showing and sharing his emotions over the years has been such a beautiful journey.  

 “I love you so much Mesh’la.” He says bringing your hand up to his mouth to leave a kiss in the palm of your hand.

“I love you too Din.” 

. . . . . . . 

Snowmen and snow angels. Christmas decorations and displays. Gingerbread houses. Dinner with loved ones. Family-friendly Christmas movies. Winter Night Markets. Strings of festive lights. Choirs carolling in front of the grand Christmas tree at the city centre. Children laugh as they run and play like the wild and free spirits they are. Presents. 

Whatever made Christmas special and magical for the kids, Din wanted to give that experience to Grogu. It was the boy’s first Christmas after all. Though the problem was the little boy didn’t seem to share the same level of excitement as the other kids - he was curious and awed, yes, but was so comfortable being carried around by his father as the festive season took place.

Admittedly, one day from grocery shopping at the mall, Din attempted to line up with Grogu for those photographs with Santa, but had to make a sharp turn towards the exit when he saw the tears in his son’s eyes. 

And the presents? Din was just helpless. Maybe he was overthinking it - overthinking everything - that the present had to be perfect, but that could be anything. Getting Grogu a teddy bear wasn’t right to Din, but the single dad wanted and needed to give something special.

He valued practicality, the purpose and the quality of every little moment. Yet throughout putting up their own Christmas tree and decorating it, attempting to cook dinner or bake together, watching Christmas movies each night, he still felt like it wasn’t enough nor right.

And it was still November. 

. . . . . . . 

Two-hour-long train ride. Snow. Cozy cabin. Fireplace. Blanket. Hot chocolate. Book. Getaway.

Whatever made Christmas special this year was the opportunity to finally treat yourself to a getaway.

The hustle and repetitive nature of modern life would sometimes get to you, like being haunted by one of those ghosts from a ‘Christmas Carol’. To combat the noise, you found spending the holidays away from it all to be the answer. 

The overwhelming and unbearable weight of hustle culture became a sign for you to step back, detach, and pivot in another direction. One that welcomes rest and relaxation. You worked way too hard this year, including overcoming all minor inconveniences, you very much deserve a reward. 

After randomly one day Googling places, scrolling social media, you found your holiday spot. Two hours on the train from the city to a region of paradise in snow and ice. 

You booked a cabin for two weeks, celebrating Christmas there in peaceful solitude.

. . . . . . . 

Call it a Christmas miracle because seeing the advertisement on a billboard was all he needed.

Din finally found the perfect gift for Grogu.

How did it not occur to him to just go somewhere nice for the holiday?  

So off they went, booking a two-hour-long scenic train ride and a cabin in a snowy region for two weeks. Truth be told, everything was very last minute and rushed - they barely made it to the platform and hopped in the first carriage. The thrilling journey to the station at the start was exciting to Grogu. Din just dealt with the stress of everything up to checking in.

Din finally breathed and eased against his seat as he watched Grogu press his little hands against the window, the small frog plushie Peli gifted from a brief visit to their home tucked in his arm. His breath fogged the pane a little, mesmerized by the passing wintery view.

There was no plan for what they’d do when they arrived. Whatever Grogu takes interest in, Din will see where it takes them. 

. . . . . . . 

You took one of the carriages at the end when you arrived at the station early. Might as well get a head start on your holiday and also save yourself from the stress of checking in. To occupy yourself as  the other passengers boarded the train, you took the time thinking of what you might do when you arrived at the resort. 

First and foremost, you allocated most of your time in the cabin or snow hiking. Of course there would be the occasional trips to grab essentials in town or sneak a treat at the popular tourist spot cafe. It might be worth buying a souvenir too. 

Whatever happens, it all goes to recovering your social battery. But it seemed to have extended to taking care of a small critter.

It wasn’t long into your hike you notice a ball of orange-red fur so obviously standing out in the snow. Whatever it was, curiosity won and you approached that ball of fur. As you got closer, that ball of fur shivered. 

“Oh my God.” Your eyes widen with panic.

It’s a fox! 

The poor fox weakly lifts its head once it heard you approaching and immediately growls quietly in warning, as if telling you to back off. It was heartbreaking to see how scared and defensive the fox looked - his green eyes glaring, and ears folded back as he hardly bared his teeth at you.

You didn’t know who to call, there was hardly any reception, and there was no way in hell you were leaving this poor fellow all alone.

“I’ll be right back” You promised the fox and rushed back to your cabin to grab a large blanket.

You found the fox now attempting to get up when you came back, and your heart ached when he wobbled. You do your best in staying calm to not further cause distress, yet so many questions and concerns for the fox came to mind, you focus on wrapping the fox in the blanket, safe and snug, and bring him back to your cabin where it’s warm.

‘It’s okay, it’s okay. I got you. You’re safe, darling. I promise.’ You coo softly. The fox resisted at first and squeaks in protest, but relents eventually at the warmth of your voice as you comforted and carried him to your cabin. 

Maybe it is true that animals can sense trustworthy souls based on how willing and well behaved the fox was. 

Or maybe he was just clever enough to realise he’s in good hands and will be taken care of for the next few weeks.

. . . . . . . 

What were the odds of seeing Din on the same trip and finally crossing paths? 

Inevitable. 

It started when you were in the town’s most popular cafe and had to do a double take, making sure you weren’t delusional that it was in fact Din lining up at the counter. He doesn’t notice you, not when he was occupied by the little boy with him.

You couldn't help but keep glancing at his direction every second just to decide if you would very much like to go up to talk to him, but you did not want to deal with the awkwardness of it and went back to reading your book.

For Din, he walked past the souvenir shop and did a double take when he thought he saw you inside. Half of your face was buried from the scarf you wore. Din did not want to deal with the embarrassment of mistaking a stranger for an old friend, but he recognised you for sure. 

After feeling like someone was staring at you for too long, you looked up from the item you held to glare at them only to be met with gentle brown eyes. Din Djarin. You also notice a little boy standing close beside him and holding his hand. The boy gives a timid wave hello. You give a friendly smile and wave back, mouthing ‘hi’.

Din stood there, too shocked to greet you. So you ditched getting a souvenir and walked out of the shop to meet him. 

“Din?” Everything about you, your eyes, your smile, the surreal moment and excitement of seeing an old friend, made Din’s heart flutter. His first thought was how beautiful you are it almost slipped out his mouth. He smiles a little, shy, and nods. He says your name, remembering you. 

“Good to see you again.” He says.

You catch up asking the usual “how have you been/what have you been up to/who’s this little guy?”, learning each other’s duration and plans of their stay.

You laughed uncontrollably when you found out about Din’s stressful experience on the day of departure in comparison to yours. 

“No wonder why I didn’t see you.” You giggle, shedding a tear. 

“Laugh all you want, you’ll be next.” Din frowned but still had a light-hearted tone. 

“It won’t happen. I feel obligated to be your train buddy now.” You say with confidence and Din sighs. 

Din offered that you can drop by and visit him and Grogu for lunch or dinner, but was rather compelled to visit yours when you told him of your situation. 

“This is the fox you’re taking care of?” Din asked quietly nodded at the dozing animal by the fireplace. 

The fox’s ear twitched and he woke up groggy from the pile of blankets after sensing the new companions setting foot in the cabin. The fox first glared defensively at Din, but once his eyes met with the child’s in Din’s arms, he softened up. Grogu stared in awe then looked up at his father, silently asking if he could get close. Din hesitated but set Grogu down.

The little boy and the fox had a harmless stare down gauging the level of friendliness of the other.

“Yeah, I don’t know what happened to him. I just found him shivering a few days ago and so he’s been bunking with me.” You explain, smiling fondly as Grogu started to gently pat the fox’s head, to which the animal accepted.

"He's like an animal whisperer." You giggle, watching the cute interaction between Grogu and the fox.

“I like to call him ‘Fink’.” You added, making Din raise an eyebrow and you felt like he was judging you. Your face flushed with embarrassment and explained. “It’s from a book called ‘The Wild Robot’. You should read it to Grogu - or watch the movie with him if you haven’t. I think you’ll like it.”

“Thanks. Yeah, I’ll look into that.” Din says softly, watching his son bond with the fox. 

“Does anyone else know about this?” Din asks.

Fink now rested his head on Grogu’s lap, eyes closed and sighing happily as the boy continued to soothingly stroke his fur. 

“I don’t think you nor I will do that. Maybe it’s not necessary to anyways.” You finally answered, still unsure. 

Fink made a speedy recovery - no longer shivering, able to walk without wobbling, and expressive.

Your efforts looking after him all led releasing him back into the wild. There was no way you would keep Fink to yourself. Fink wasn’t a pet, yet you acknowledged the strong attachment towards the fox and the companionship shared from looking after him.  

You also had to go back home. Same with Din and Grogu. 

For this evening, Din’s heart ached with regret when they eventually had to go back to their cabin. 

“You’re welcome to visit. I think that’s what Grogu wants too.” You grinned as you bid your farewell for the evening. 

Din nodded, saying he’d come back with Grogu. Neither of you had the courage to admit you wanted to see each other too.

Din continued visiting your cabin as you looked after Fink, giving plenty of time to catch up while Grogu kept the fox company. It was like the two were inseparable. 

On Christmas day, you invited Din and Grogu over for dinner. Din helped with cooking and preparing while Fink played with Grogu. The boy squealed in excitement when Fink pretended to chase him, or vice versa. Even if there was a lack of Christmas decorations, the festive spirit was there. This was probably what Din was looking for, same with Grogu. To just be with the people he loved.

“Grogu, he can’t eat that.” Din quickly grabbed the cookie Grogu tried to feed Fink.  . . . . . . . 

In the middle of the night, Fink wakes up to a muffled conversation. He recognises your voice and then that man - Din was it?

You were in the kitchen. 

Fink can tell by hearing liquid pouring and smelt the aroma of cocoa. 

He picked up a sense of familiarity and intimacy within your conversation. The two of you shared stories from your personal lives in a steady rhythm.

You and Din thanked each other’s company for the evening, the entirety of what came to be from your holiday. And then there was a pause. Talking wasn’t either of your forte, but what did feel right for you both was being in each other’s presence in silence. 

“I missed you.” You blurted.

“I missed you too.” Din whispers, sincere. 

Fink fell back asleep. 

In the kitchen, there were faint shy giggles. Whispering one last season's greeting. Whispering each other’s name playfully. 

First kisses. 

More kisses, savouring and remembering it.

Over and over again. 

. . . . . . . 

“We have to let him go.” Din murmurs, Grogu doesn’t stop hugging the fox. 

The fox was all better and set to go back in the wild. You would also be boarding the train back home soon. 

“We can come back next year.” Din promised, gently placing his hand on Grogu’s shoulder. The boy sniffled and the fox whimpered after the loss of affection. 

“Yeah, and next time, we’ll be in the same cabin,” you said, kneeling next to Grogu and looking at the fox, “and hopefully we’ll see Fink again.” You say softly, believing the fox can understand and make a promise.

. . . . . . . 

Outside your cabin, the three of you watched Fink walk a few steps towards the wilderness, looking back one last time to see Grogu with tears, waving goodbye. 

Fink forced himself to run off, until all that was left behind was the trail of paw-prints in the snow. 

. . . . . . . 

This time Din and Grogu boarded the train early, thanks to you.  

. . . . . . . 

Even though it was almost the new year, it didn’t stop you from giving presents. You joked you were Din’s present - to which he rolled his eyes in amusement. 

But for Grogu?

“Go on, open it up. She got it just for you.” Back at his home, Din gently encouraged Grogu when the little boy looked up to his father with curious eyes from the small, soft wrapped gift.

After carefully unwrapping, Grogu lifts up the gift, stares at it for a few seconds then squeezes it in a tight hug, swinging side to side.

Later that night, Din invited you over to join them for dinner.

“Does he like his gift?” You ask Din nervously while you joined him in his bed.

Din chuckles, carefully pulling you closer and pressing a kiss against your forehead.

“He loves it. Thank you for getting him that.”

In the little boy’s room, there he was, fast asleep. What was also tucked with him and held close to was a small plushie resembling a red fox.

. . . . . . . 

Epilogue

Sometimes, Fink visits the cabin. He knows the people he wants to see most aren't there, so he sits there in the snow, reminiscing.

He liked being called ‘Fink’. It suited him.

Majority would call him as ‘sly’ or ‘mischievous’, but he took it as a compliment in disguise for how ‘clever’ he is.