Aurea, writing to OJ: '- as I have told you, the training with my Master is improving my skills with the saber. My Master himself is -'
Vader, crashing into Aurea and falling asleep on her: Zzz.
Aurea: '- the most annoying piece of mold walking around, yet strangely adorable.-'
Vader, trying to freak out Aurea by copying her guards and kneeling once she enters the room: Welcome back, commander.
Aurea: As you we- wait.
Vader: ...
Aurea: ...Get up.
Vader, grinning: Are those your orders?
Aurea: ... you have two minutes to get in the tank.
Vader: 😏
Tarkin: Vader, you are still nearly command and as such I /order/ You to compl-
Aurea: *appears*
Vader: ...
Tarkin: ...
Aurea: You were saying?
Tarkin: ... You don't scare me, you filthy little devil!
Aurea: *whips tail like crop*
Tarkin (and Vader, probably):
But this would mean...
_______
Aurea: Master, we really need to talk abo-
Vader, totally not paying attention *silently jamming to mixtape*
Aurea, whos top ears can definitely hear said mixtape: ...You have three seconds to turn that off or I'm turning your ass into grilled filet
Aurea: "Where the fuck are my fucking pancakes?"
Vader: *in fear* "...I have no idea."
Aurea: "You ass! How did you even eat those?"
*She bitch slaps him*
Vader (To a handless Luke): "No... /I/ am your father."
Luke (*smirking*): "Is that what you say to Aurea?"
Vader: "No, if anything it's the other way around."
Luke: "...thanks, Dad. I'm scarred for life."
*Luke jumps*
Vader (Joyfully): "...he called me 'Dad'."
//Ok everyone, hold up.
I'm gonna try and explain what it's like to live with anxiety.
Living with anxiety is like the trash compactor scene from Star Wars IV. Whatever you do, no matter what it is, your brain finds a way to make it seem like a bad event is about to happen.