capcassianandor:

Chirrut: asks random rebels to hit him as hard as they can, go ahead, he can take it. eventually evolves into “throw random shit at me and watch me deflect it with my staff”. would evolve into “try to shoot me and watch me dodge” if Baze didn’t intervene. makes even more blind jokes than usual (they’re bad).

Baze: drinking competitions. once outdrank everyone on echo base, including a couple of aliens who were twice his size. gets emotional and calls everyone little brother/sister. eventually has to throw Chirrut over his shoulder and carry him away from the party.

Cassian: the mom friend until he himself gets too drunk. scolds his drunk friends and curses a lot in spanish. once got tearful and told K-2SO it was his best friend. “you wanna know what’s really shitty about the Empire? you wanna know what the really, really shitty thing is?”, never finishes the thought.

Bodhi: talks non-stop in a near-incomprehensible slur, goes from happy drunk to sad drunk and back to happy drunk in the span of one minute. must be kept out of the hangar at all costs or he will try to steal an x-wing (this job usually falls to Cassian).

Jyn: thinks she can outdrink everyone. cannot, in fact, outdrink anyone. extreme lightweight. will try to start fights with everyone in sight. once challenged Luke Skywalker to a duel (he declined). passes out two hours into the party, has to be carried out.

K-2SO: is a droid

lazaefair:

cashasthephonebox:

castiel-knight-of-hell:

Which half of your OTP starts Christmas morning by casually leaning in the kitchen doorway, reading a book, acting like they don’t know there’s mistletoe right above their head and which half walks past them while mumbling sleepily “Your book is upside down”

@a-gallon-of-baras samuraiden

Chirrut is the first one, and Baze is the second one. Except Baze is even grumpier because 1) Chirrut is blind, and 2) Chirrut is blind.

“I sense the Force emanating from the mistletoe,” Chirrut says in reply to the question Baze absolutely did not ask and had in fact not been thinking. Chirrut closes the holobook with an air of supreme serenity, which Baze does not have time for – he’s just here to get caf, provided Chirrut hadn’t burned the crap out of it again – so he’s already past the doorway and moving towards the caf maker when Chirrut continues, “And I have sensed that Force has willed me to do this,” and launches himself at Baze’s back, yanking on a good fistful of Baze’s hair to boot.

(Thirty years together, and Chirrut’s still the only one in the galaxy who can do that without Baze reflexively launching them into the stratosphere. Chirrut insists it’s because the Force tells Baze that he’s safe around Chirrut. Baze thinks that it’s just – it’s just that his body knows.)

As kisses go, it doesn’t start out as their best. But it’s enough to make Baze sigh gently into Chirrut’s mouth and set his mug down on the counter, and frame his hands around Chirrut’s face to kiss him properly. Thirty years together, and Chirrut still kisses like he’s getting away with something, like he’s still breaking the rules of a monastery that no longer exists, like they’re about to be interrupted by a superior who’s no longer alive. Greedy and impatient one moment, tender and worshipful the next. (Thirty years together, and the quicksilver transition from one to the other still makes Baze’s heart lurch with heat.)

“Did the Force will you into biting my lip so hard it will be tender for the rest of the day?” Baze grumbles when they finally separate.

“Yes. It absolutely did,” Chirrut says with a brilliant smile, and then he’s gone, vanished into the next room with Baze’s caf mug in his hand.

Baze, for his part, sighs again and sets about making another cup. While he’s waiting for the maker to percolate, he lets his gaze drift upward to the innocent sprig of green currently taped to the kitchen doorway. Yes, it’s as he suspected. It’s not actually mistletoe, but some random weed plucked from the sidewalk outside.

His lip hurts a little when he grins. But he grins anyway.