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rising-volteccers · 1 year

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I have a prompt for Friede. He gets sick but he's the last one to notice. Like everyone is taking care of him in their own way.

Thank you very much for sending this prompt! I'm currently sick myself and wrote this all in one go while medicated and sporting a 102F fever. I suppose I just wanted to make him suffer alongside me hhh...

Anyways! Hope it's still an enjoyable read! I think this is the longest piece I've written thus far so I'm pretty proud of it still haha!

Series: Pokemon Horizons

Characters: Friede, Cap, Murdock, Mollie, Orla, Liko, Roy, Ludlow

Waking up that morning, Friede found himself struggling to sit up. His body felt heavier than usual, though he supposed that was expected when he took night shift for the past couple of days. Manouvering the ship through a storm, battling strong winds and dipping temperatures took a lot out of someone. At the very least his crew didn’t lose too much sleep over it, especially the children.

Cracking a huge yawn that he barely covered, Friede went through his usual routine at a more sluggish pace. He briefly forgot where he kept his goggles and he almost exited the room without tying up his hair. Cap gave him odd looks throughout it all but aside from a questioning noise, he scampered up his shoulder as he headed to the dining area.

By the time he entered, everyone was in the midst of digging into the wonderful breakfast spread Murdock put out. He barely stifled another yawn when Orla greeted him with, “Morning sleepyhead. Thought you were gonna skip breakfast there.”

“Mm? Nah, I would’t miss it without someone getting on my case about it,” he replied with a cheeky little grin at Mollie, who merely raised an eyebrow at him. Friede ignored her sudden interest as he took a seat at the end of the table.

Friede wasted no time in pouring himself a mug of coffee. With how tired he felt, he needed a bit more caffeine in his system. The first sip made him pause, and he pulled the mug away to scrutinize the dark liquid.

“Hey Murdock, did you use a different coffee blend?”

Murdock looked up from his own plate. “Hm? Nah, it’s always been the same. Why, it tastes weird to you or something?”

Huh, if nothing changed, he supposed it was his taste buds being weird for some reason. Oh well, nothing that he couldn’t drink. Friede gave an airy wave that made Murdock stare at him for awhile longer before he passed the bread basket to Roy.

With a half mug of coffee in him, Friede found himself lacking a bit of appetite which he chalked up to his tired state. His stomach felt a little weird after a piece of toast and a few berries so he decided to stop before any accident could occur.

“That’s all you’re eating?” Orla commented as he drained the rest of his mug.

“Yeah. Guess I’m not as hungry as I thought,” he replied, once again stifling a jaw cracking yawn. As he rubbed his eye with a finger, he missed the way his crew exchanged glances with one another.

“You feeling alright?” Murdock asked, sounding oddly cautious.

“Yeah, probably just all those late nights catching up. Nothing that going to sleep earlier tonight couldn’t fix.”

Suddenly feeling a little stifled from the attention he garnered, Friede stood up from his chair–placing a hand on the back of it to steady himself through a brief wave of lightheadness.

“Hey–”

“I’ll catch you guys later then,” he spoke quickly, flashing them all his usual smile before turning on his heel to exit the dining area. Cap quickly finished his own food, cheeks stuffed and then dashed after him.

That was a little weird, admittedly. His crew stared at him like he had two heads at the end. Couldn’t figure out why but oh well, maybe that was a one time thing. Friede paused to allow Cap a chance to settle on his shoulders again. It was his turn to do some chores today so he might as well get to it now if he wanted to nap later.

–

After he cleared the table and washed the dishes with Roy’s help, Murdock went to the cabinet to pull out a tea caddy. He opened the lid to check what blends he still had left. Only he, Liko and Mollie really enjoyed tea while the rest were coffee drinkers (or in Roy’s case, a Tapu Cocoa fiend). He rarely made tea for those outside their little group but he figured it was necessary today.

Murdock knew that Friede wasn’t feeling well. If his sluggish nature wasn’t a tell, then his lack of appetite spoke of an uneasy stomach. While Friede couldn’t match Roy’s huge appetite (typical for a growing boy and one where Murdock encouraged), the good captain usually ate his fill before going about his day.

The chef took out the honey jar as well as a half cut lemon from the fridge. While he waited for the water to boil, he took out a red thermos from a different cabinet. Rarely used seeing that he was more than happy to make the crew something from scratch but one that should fit his purpose right now.

Within twenty minutes, he exited the kitchen with the thermos in hand, filled with a blend specifically made for uneasy stomachs. Murdock found Friede and Cap quickly enough; it was his turn to mop the deck, which he found him to do with slow, sluggish swipes.

Swallowing down the flare of concern, Murdock called out, “Hey Friede!”

Friede nearly dropped the mop in surprise but he straightened up with a tighter grip, then turned around to regard him with a semblance of a pout.

“What’s with the attempted heart attack so early in the morning?” he grumbled. Another check towards his unwell state was him being a little testier than usual.

“Sorry. I just wanted to give you something. Here you go.” Murdock handed Friede the red thermos. At the questioning look, he gave a disarming smile, keeping his voice light. “It’s honey lemon tea. I’m slowly using up what we have left before we restock in a few days.”

“Okay? Thanks I guess.” Murdock knew him well enough to not take the somewhat dismissive response to heart. Likely confused when his brain wasn’t running on all cylinders, not to mention the choice of beverage given. Coffee or Tapu Cocoa were the go-to more than a whole thermos of tea.

“No problem. I’d appreciate if you could give it a try later and give me some feedback on it. Wanted to see if the ratio I put works or not,” he added. By framing it this way, Friede would find himself obligated to do so, which Murdock hoped involved him taking a break whilst drinking it.

“Yeah sure.”

“Right, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll see you around lunch then.” Murdock didn’t stick around after that. Had he tried to push more, Friede might get defensive, stubbornly loveable fool that he was. The chef decided to make a hearty soup for lunch to see if his captain could stomach it later.

–

“What’s on your mind Liko?” Roy’s question startled the girl out of her thoughts. She jumped a little in her seat, spooking Sprigatito who fell off her lap in turn. She spent a few minutes apologizing to her starter before answering Roy, who looked a bit guilty after that.

“I’m sorry for startling you. I didn’t think you were so out of it,” he apologized, hugging Fuecoco tighter to his chest.

“N-No it’s fine! I was… mm, I was thinking about earlier.” Liko replied, shifting to the side so Roy could take a seat seeing that she piqued his interest.

“What about earlier?”

“You know… how tired Friede looks.” Having been a part of the Rising Volt Tacklers for awhile now, Liko had time to observe the crew’s habits and behavior, storing everything into her little mental file cabinet. She knew that Friede’s sluggishness was unusual for the seemingly upbeat guy. At least, he’d try to hide if he felt off on account to avoid worrying others.

“I guess you’re right. I don’t think I’ve seen him yawn so much during breakfast! That’s usually my thing!”

Liko giggled at his words, though her expression drooped into a more thoughtful one. “Yes, which is why I think he’s not feeling 100% right now. And he’s either not admitting it or he doesn’t think much on why he’s feeling so tired. A-At least that’s what I think.”

Roy tilted his head, so much so that Liko could practically see the gears turning. “I think you’re right. I remember Orla mentioning once that he’s a stubborn, lovable oaf of a man that thinks he needs to shoulder everything himself!”

She blinked in surprise at that. She hummed, fiddling with a lock of her hair. “I-I see. I think you should avoid mentioning that to either of them…”

“Hm? Yeah, alright.” Roy hugged his Fuecoco once more. “So… do you think we should help him?”

Liko nodded, swinging her legs. “Yeah! I think we should! Maybe he’d feel better if he gets some more rest. It’s his turn to do most of the chores today I believe.”

“We can help him out with that so he can go take a nap or something.” Roy had a huge grin on his lips, hopping up from his seat. “What are we waiting for?”

Liko quickly got up to join him, leaving Sprigatito to curl up and nap on the couch for the time being. The two kids hunted down their mentor until they spotted him carrying a basket of laundry, heading towards the back of the ship where they hung them out to air dry.

“Hey Friede!” Roy called out. Liko saw the way Friede startled, almost dropping the basket before his grip tightened at the last second. She quickly joined Roy to stand at his side.

“Liko, Roy,” he began slowly, eyes narrowing slightly. “Did you need something?”

The kids exchanged a quick glance before Liko stepped up to answer. “W-We were hoping if we could… um, swap chores today!”

“Yeah!” Roy was quick to follow up, steamrolling through whatever response Friede might have said. “We have plans to do some training tomorrow so we were hoping if we could do our chores today to have some free time tomorrow!”

“Training?” Friede sported a questioning look but Liko took note of the fact that it wasn’t an immediate dismissal.

“Y-Yeah! We… wanted to get more practice on battling so we can help defend our home if stuff happens.”

Liko resisted the urge to squirm from Friede’s assessing gaze. Roy wasn’t as nearly affected but she had a feeling the boy too waited with bated breath for a verdict. At last something in Friede’s eyes softened, and he sighed.

“Well, I guess I can take over your chores tomorrow. Make sure to inform Mollie about the change, alright? Don’t need her coming after my neck for foisting off work onto you two…”

Liko had a feeling that they weren’t supposed to hear that last bit. She chose not to say anything aside from carefully grabbing the laundry basket from him. Friede sighed once more, regarding the pair with a half smile.

“If you want to practice with Cap too, let me know. I’m sure he’d be up for it.”

“Y-Yes, thank you!” she responded, injecting as much enthusiasm into her voice. Liko supposed training was on tomorrow’s agenda. Hopefully Sprigatito would be up for it.

“Yes! Me and Fuecoco are ready for the challenge!”

“Alright, alright.” Friede covered his mouth from an abrupt yawn that sneaked out. He ran his fingers through his hair, then stood up straighter. “If you two need me, I’ll be at the captain’s deck.”

“Okay!” She clamped down the urge to add I hope you’ll feel better soon!

The two kids watched Friede walk away and up the small steps until he disappeared into the room.

“You think he’s going to nap?” Roy asked.

“Mm… I hope so.” Liko eyed the laundry in hand. “Come on, we better go hang this up while the sun’s up.”

“Okay!”

Liko hoped that Friede would feel a little better with some rest, knowing that Roy too shared her sentiment.

–

Ludlow slowly pushed the door to the captain’s deck open. Peeking his head inside, he found Cap staring inquisitively at him before recognition flashed in his eyes once his gaze landed onto the folded blanket in his arms. The Pikachu raised a paw at him, forming a little thumbs up.

“Don’t mind me,” he uttered softly. Ludlow shuffled his way inside, steps light in comparison to the soft snores escaping the young captain’s lips. Once he reached the large chair, he took a moment to observe Friede.

Being a fisherman by trade and at heart, he knew to be patient whilst keeping his senses open for even the slightest of changes. Be as still as a calm lake, hand ready to reel in the moment his lure caught something. Ludlow of course applied this in his everyday life, too.

Thus without it being explicitly stated, he knew that the rest of the youngsters were looking after their ill captain. He knew why they’ve yet to outright state it to his face; Friede could be infuriatingly stubborn, insisting that he was fine despite feeling otherwise. Ludlow supposed it matched his ambition at least. One couldn’t have thought of converting his fishing boat into an airship without being strong-willed and just a little eccentric.

Still, he personally believed that there was a time and place for everything. Friede truly was lucky to have such caring people in his life. Ludlow didn’t exactly place himself in that circle, preferring to continue his observation of these youngsters from his spot day in and day out.

Carefully, he unfolded the blanket before draping it over the slumbering captain’s form. Ludlow could do nothing about the rather uncomfortable position he slept in without the risk of waking him up but he did his best to tuck the blanket in. Cap too assisted him, using his paws to tug the blanket higher up.

Friede remained fast asleep throughout it all. Ludlow eventually took a step back, shared a knowing nod with Cap before shuffling his way out of the room.

–

Orla toiled the morning away within the engine room but her mind drifted every so often towards a certain someone on this ship. She didn’t let any of those thoughts affected her work as she didn’t want to worry the Pokemon that assisted her. By the time she emerged from the hot room around lunch time, she was free to ruminate about that stubborn, loveable oaf they had for a captain.

She knew that Mollie and Murdock shared similar thoughts during Friede’s time at breakfast earlier. All of them knew him well enough to know that he either refused to acknowledge his ill state or he didn’t connect the dots.

Friede was a brilliant man, that Orla won’t deny. His plan to fashion an old fishing boat into an airship was successful mostly due to her work but the layout he presented helped with the foundation. Orla built around his vision until they had a home in the sky, soaring high and free.

As intelligent as he was, the guy could be fairly dense in keeping track of changes to his body. Sometimes he actively hid that fact, believing that he could handle it by himself until one of them had to drag him by the ear to Mollie. Other times, it just didn’t click that maybe, just maybe his body wasn’t feeling all that well.

Orla had a feeling that it leaned more towards the latter this time. He wasn’t as defensive, though his exhaustion may have tempered it down. Regardless, his infuriating stubbornness likely remained, as it won’t even if his brain actively cooked itself. Thus Orla would give him a bit more time to come clean before dragging him to the infirmary.

In the meantime, she went to freshen herself up for lunch. Worrying about that knucklehead made her hungry, so she wasted little time in carving herself a spot at the dining table. Murdock informed them that soup and sandwiches were today’s menu. Orla lacked any doubt that it was in consideration for Friede.

Who, as lunch progressed remained absent. Liko and Roy exchanged glances, while Murdock looked like he wanted nothing more than to get up from his seat. Ludlow and Mollie ate on as usual but she took notice on the way Mollie tapped a finger on the surface, signalling her rising ire and worry.

Orla bit back a sigh. She quickly finished up her meal, then declared to the table that, “I’ll go check up on Friede.”

It felt like the table collective exhaled a relieved breath. Murdock flashed her a grateful smile while the kids exchanged soft smiles with one another. Mollie looked up, quiet but her eyes sent a clearly defined message.

Let me know what happens.

The engineer dipped her head once, then stood up from her chair.

“He was napping in the captain’s deck last time I checked,” Ludlow spoke up, surprising them that he knew in the first place.

“Oh, so he did get some more rest…” She barely picked up on Liko’s muttered words prior to her exit from the dining room. Her steps were collected as she made her way up the steps to the deck.

Orla opted to enter without knocking. Her entrance drew Cap’s attention, who looked a little relieved. Her heart rate sped up slightly as she closed the distance between the door and the captain’s chair.

Taking one look at Friede, she knew why Cap reacted that way. Putting aside the uncomfortable position he fell asleep in, she spotted the dusting of red high on his cheekbones. Sweat dotted his forehead, easily revealing a fever once she pressed the back of her hand against it.

She hated being right in this situation. Orla pulled out her Rotom Phone and sent a quick text to Mollie to prepare the infirmary since she was bringing a fever stricken idiot there within the next ten minutes. After that, she gently placed a hand on Friede’s shoulder and gave it a little shake.

Friede groaned, looking like he was trying to free his arms from the blanket in order to swat her hand away. Orla gave a harder shake, this time punctuating it with, “Hey Friede, come on wake up.”

Eventually hazy yellow eyes opened, and he blinked in confusion for a few seconds before they settled onto her face.

“Orla…?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Come on, I’m taking you to the infirmary. You’re sick,” she stated promptly. Before his ill timed stubbornness kicked in, she needed to make decisions so that he only had time to react and not think.

It took a bit of effort for Orla to pull Friede to his feet. She had to shoulder the sudden weight pressed against her, his deep heavy breaths spoke of a sudden wave of lightheadness that he tried to get in control of. She gave him time to stand a little steadier on his feet, then with an arm around his waist for support, she started to guide her sick captain towards the infirmary.

–

Mollie had things prepared by the time Orla and Friede came stumbling in. She wasted little time in helping Orla get him on the bed, where he struggled somewhat from the hands that wanted to take his flight jacket off.

“I don’t want you in too many layers,” Mollie spoke, gently gripping Friede’s shoulder as to ground him. She waited until he settled down before starting her check-up.

After Orla left the infirmary, her hands swiftly went from one test to another; checking his temperature, pulse, the inside of his throat when he mumbled about a scratchy throat during her questioning session. Eventually, she came to the conclusion that Friede was in for a few days minimum of bed rest until the worst of the symptoms eased up.

Mollie raised an eyebrow at the mullish tilt to his eyebrows once she gave him the verdict. “I don’t want you to pass out nor increase the chance of spreading this to everyone. I’ll be having my hands full looking after one stubborn idiot.”

“Harsh,” he mumbled, cowering when her eyes hardened. Mollie could be a little cold when someone had the misfortune of igniting her ire. She preferred a cool sense of professionalism rather than allow fear to settle in. Friede genuinely worried her but as the nurse on this ship, she had to keep rational if she wanted him to recover as quickly as possible.

“Am I wrong?” she challenged.

Perhaps something finally clicked into that feverish brain of his as Friede hunched in slightly, eyes darting to the side.

“No,” he admitted. “Sorry for worrying you.”

As much as she wanted to keep a hold of the slight thrum of anger beneath her skin, Mollie simply heaved out a deep sigh, briefly pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I wish that you’d stop hiding when you’re not feeling well, Friede.” Her eyes settled onto his contrite expression. “Do you realize that you’ve got everyone worried today?”

“I, uh, I actually didn’t.” His voice sounded like a child being reprimanded, which she supposed wasn’t far from the truth. “Honest, I just thought I was feeling more tired than usual. But I guess that’s why Murdock gave me that tea, and the kids offering to switch chores with me…”

It took a lot of willpower to not roll her eyes. Honestly, this brilliant man could be so dense at times.

“I don’t know whether it’s better that you’re ignorant or stubborn. Regardless, you’re on bedrest for coming days. I’ll give you some medication to take after you have something in your stomach. Murdock made soup so that should be easy on it.”

“He did?”

“Yes Friede. Everyone noticed you weren’t feeling well–except for you, unsurprisingly.” Her blunt tone didn’t quite match the way she slowly draped a blanket over his form. “Now you’re going to briefly rest here while I have Murdock bring some soup for you to eat. I expect you to eat as much as you’re able to, then take the medicine. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” he mumbled, sighing blissfully once Mollie placed a folded damp rag over his forehead.

Mollie smoothened the blanket once more, her own expression softening somewhat. “Try and get some sleep, alright?”

“Mm…” She supposed that after the fight drained from his body, he couldn’t resist succumbing to some much needed rest. Mollie observed him for awhile longer, then checked her cabinet for the appropriate medicine to give Friede later.

With everyone pitching in to take care of their stubborn, loveable captain, it was her hope that he’d return back to full health before the week was up. Until then, she was in for a whole lot of whining in her immediate future…

Not that she fully minded, she supposed.

#Pokemon Horizons #Pokeani #Professor Friede #Liko (Pokemon)#Roy (Pokemon)#Murdock (Pokemon)#Orla (Pokemon)#Mollie (Pokemon)#Ludlow (Pokemon)#Captain Pikachu #Hana writes stuff #A fun challenge to write multiple POVs aside from Friede's!#I hope I got their voices more or less alright

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absolutebloodychaos · 11 months

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i just neeeeed bojan and kris being soft but sassy boyfriends🙏💅

Thanks @alainsthoughts so much for the ask, I loved writing this and I hope that you like it too:)

I did not mean to make this into a Christmas fic but hey, this is what happens when you listen to too much Mariah Carey in October.

I wrote most of this while listening to the Cher Chrismas album and it is absolutely fucking AMAZING. I was also listening to “Щедрик'' or “Carol of the Bells” which is my favourite Christmas carol.

---------------

It was Christmas Eve and the Cvjetiguštin household was getting ready for the holiday with vigour.

Due to their busy touring schedule, Bojan and Kris hadn’t had the opportunity to prepare for Christmas until now, but they were making the most of the time they had.

Mistletoe was being hung, baubles strung, tinsel wrapped, and trees decorated by the two men who were excited to spend their first holiday together as a proper couple.

Kris and Bojan had been pining over each other for years but both had finally caved and gotten together earlier that year around the same time as their first stadium show.

Each man was head over heels with the other and had moved in together pretty quickly, Bojan liked to joke that it had something to do with Kris’ lesbian like behaviour but in reality it was because they had known and loved each other for so long that there was no point waiting around anymore.

As their shared apartment was quite small, the decorating didn’t take much time, or shouldn’t have if Bojan hadn’t kept trying to wrap Kris up with tinsel or kept stopping every three minutes to hang a red bauble off of his nose and pretend to be a certain reindeer.

All the messing around made it more fun though, and Kris couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

The last few decorations were put up; the mistletoe taking ages as they kept on getting sidetracked by kissing every time they hung a new sprig, and the topper going on the top of the tree last, Kris boosting up the other man so that he could reach the top.

“I’m not actually that short you know,” Bojan said standing on Kris’ bent knee.

“You sure darling, I saw you struggling to hang the baubles on the higher branches,” Kris said with a smirk.

Bojan didn’t say anything once he got down, just gave the other man an adorable pout, but Kris could tell from the fact that he could see the other man trying not to smile that he didn’t mean it.

It took about twenty seconds before Bojan gave up and the pout slipped from his face, and for Kris to lean in and capture the shorter man’s lips with his own.

“Okay, you’re not that short, I do admit that we did get quite a tall tree but you know that I could have just put the topper on, I would have been able to reach,” Kris said as he pulled back to catch his breath after a few minutes.

“You can put your topper on me,” Bojan said with a lewd grin and Kris shook his head.

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” he said with a fond look and another short kiss that would have been longer if they didn’t have other things to do that day.

“Come on, we’ve got a lot more to do today, I can’t cook my famous gingerbread that you love ever so much if I just spend the rest of the day here kissing you,” Kris said and he could see Bojan visibly weighing up his options.

“If you come with me to the kitchen I’ll let you decorate as many gingerbread people as you want, any way that you like, I won’t even stop you from making rude ones,” Kris said knowing that he’d won the argument.

Also, no one ever said that they couldn’t kiss more while they were baking; Kris had no doubt that by the time the biscuits were in the oven there would have been many kisses stolen between the two men.

Many gingerbread people were made over the next few hours, Kris’ ones resembling cute little fully dressed ordinary people, and Bojan’s more PG ones representing something out of a fever dream (others representing things that were less appropriate for public consumption).

“Bojan, surely you could have made some ones that we could give to other people,” Kris said with a fondly exasperated sigh.

“We could give these to other people, they might just get the wrong idea,” Bojan said, wiggling his eyebrows, and Kris smiled and wrapped the shorter man in his long arms.

“Yes, and we wouldn’t want that, would we,” he said and Bojan just gave him a suggestive look before leaning in for another kiss.

After the baking the next task was wrapping presents and the men wrapped their joint presents together having already wrapped the presents they were going to give to each other.

Over the next hour many presents piled up and were moved to be placed around the bottom of the recently decorated tree.

This year everyone had agreed that Christmas was to be celebrated at Kris and Bojan’s house, and their friends would be arriving the next day for lunch and presents.

But that afternoon and evening were spent just the two of them, cuddled up in bed with steaming mugs of hot chocolate, watching some of their favourite Christmas movies; Die Hard, Home Alone, White Christmas and Meet Me In Saint Louis.

The next day Kris and Bojan woke up wrapped in each other’s arms and lovingly made out until they decided it was time to exchange presents.

Kris among other things had gotten Bojan a necklace and matching bracelet to replace his beloved chain that had snapped a month previous during a particularly energetic gig.

In turn he received many presents from his boyfriend with his favourite being a scrapbook full of memories from their lives together, most memorable being the diary entry Bojan had made the first day that they’d met and pictures from the day they first got together.

A while later they left bed to have breakfast and start getting ready for when the others would come over later.

Lots of food was made, too much probably given that Jure, Jan and Nace had all promised to bring a dish along too, but that just meant that there would be good leftovers for the week ahead.

Bojan set the table as Kris pulled the last things out of the oven and the finishing touches were made just before both men heard the doorbell ring, revealing their friends covered in snow from the trip over to the apartament.

“We bring gifts!” Jure said with a grin and Kris ushered them all inside with a short but sincere hug for each man, telling them to put food in the kitchen and drop presents under the tree.

Bojan, who had just finished getting ready in the bedroom came out and seeing the lingering traces of snow on his guests clothes bolted out the door quickly greeting his friends and then yelling “SNOOOOOOW!!!!!!!!!!!!” with Kris trailing closely behind.

The second he got outside Bojan practically reverted back into being a child, making snowballs and snow angels, and trying to create a snowman.

“Love, you should probably come back inside, you’re going to catch a cold,” Kris said but with a sweet smile and love shining from his eyes.

Bojan ran over and took Kris’ hand, dragging him out of the warm doorway into the cold of the snow, and Kris loved the look of pure wonder and happiness that decorated the other man’s face.

“Okay, in a minute, let’s just enjoy this for now though,” Bojan said and pulled Kris into a kiss while the snow fell lightly around them, decorating each man’s eyelashes with the small white flakes.

Kris knew that this was the first of many similar Christmases to come, and he couldn’t wait to spend each and every one of them with the man he loved.

#i know its only october but for some reason i just wanted to write a christmas fic #idk #anyways #kris guštin #bojan cvjetićanin #bokris #joker out #joker out fanfiction #joker out fanfic

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braveclementine · 5 months

Text

Chapter 17

Warnings: None, Readers under 18 can read this book. It is solely fluff- nothing sexual

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

.💙💙💙.

𝕴 𝖜𝖔𝖐𝖊 𝖚𝖕 with a headache.

Madam Pomfrey kept me longer than Harry, Hermione, and Ron. They left the infirmary an hour earlier than me. Both Hermione and Harry had asked me if I wanted them to stay with me but I just shook my head, looking blankly out the window, trying to find out if dad had returned to the castle already or not.

As she finally let me go she said, "Professor Lupin is a good man, Elizabeth. I'm sure Dumbledore will have it worked out so that you can stay with him."

I nodded dully. I headed to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Harry had already entered inside and I crept up the stairs to hear what they were saying.

". . .not leaving because of that?" Harry was asking.

"This time tomorrow, the owls will start arriving from parents. . . They will not want a werewolf teaching their children, Harry. And after last night, I see their point. I could have bitten any of you. . . my daughter was standing right there in front of me. . . That must never happen again." Dad was saying, his voice cracked slightly talking about me.

Harry asked, "Did Fudge. . . Is Fudge. . . are you and Elizabeth. . ." He didn't seem to be able to get the words out.

"Dumbledore persuaded Fudge not to separate the two of us. I want to tell Elizabeth myself but I haven't seen her yet." Dad sounded a little hurt.

"Madam Pomfrey kept her longer than us. I think she's hiding in the forest." Harry said. "She goes there a lot, especially when she's upset. She probably thinks if she stays in there, she'll never know the outcome. She was. . . well she was really upset last night. She cried herself to sleep."

Dad inhaled a lot of air. "I'll go drag her out of the forest." He said softly.

I scampered down the stairs and fled the room and made my way out to the forest. I wandered through the forest, looking for Firenze. I had barely talked to him this year. Of course, he was busy, I knew that.

A few moments later, there were footsteps and I looked up and saw dad there. His hands were empty- I supposed he'd left his stuff in the carriage that would take him home.

I eyed him warily. He made no move toward me. He whispered, "Are you scared of me?"

I shook my head, tears coming to my eyes. "Dad. . . Fudge. . . he- he- he" I couldn't get the words out. I stumbled forward and laid my head on Dad's chest.

"It's alright." Dad said, smoothing my back in gentle circles. His arms felt strong and safe. He smelled fresh, like the pine needles and leaves of the forest. And wind, he especially smelled of the crisp wind. "Dumbledore convinced him that we should stay together. Nothing is changing, okay?"

I nodded and then said, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you that you would resign. I was hoping something would change when nothing did."

"It's quite alright." Dad said, smoothing my hair down. "I'll see you at home, alright?"

"You're leaving already?" I asked, looking up but not letting go.

"I don't want to stay, to be completely honest." Dad said. "But don't worry about anything for these last few days, okay?"

I nodded reluctantly. Dad kissed my forehead. "Want to walk back to the carriage with me?"

I nodded and took his hand and we walked back to the carriage, hand in hand.

.💙💙💙.

𝕸𝖞 𝖋𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖘𝖑𝖆𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖉 into Malfoy's face. I ducked Crabbe's incoming fist and then kicked out. All our wands were lying on the floor, forgotten.

I barely remembered how this fight had started. Malfoy was furious that Buckbeak had escaped. He also kept having snide comments about my father and werewolves in general. I ignored them most of the time but today was just too much.

We'd gotten into a number of brawls over the past week. A majority of them, Draco had started, but I'd started one or two after he would say something about dad.

The Professors had started keeping an eye out for us after the three of them had ended up in the hospital wing after I'd done some quick spell work and walked away. After that, their tactic was to get my wand out of my hand.

"You three knock it off!" Professor McGonagall's voice rang out as Goyle tossed me over his shoulder and I was slammed to the floor. My breath went out, my head ringing. "Forty points from Slytherin!"

The other three snatched up their wands and raced off, shooting me nasty looks. Professor McGonagall marched over to where I was sitting up, groaning. "Are you alright Miss Kane?" She asked, bending down and picking up my wand.

"Just sore." I said cheerfully.

"You're in a good mood." She said suspiciously as she handed me my wand.

"I can't be unhappy. Fudge finally dropped his suspicions against Dad so I will get to stay for him forever." I said, wiping dust off my robes. I twisted my back, which was still sore from the landing and winced.

Professor McGonagall's expression softened. "I'm glad Miss Kane. He's a good man."

I nodded, eyes bright. "He's the best dad ever!"

"I came to find you because Professor Snape wanted to talk to you."

The smile dropped off my face. "Oh bloody hell." I muttered. I sighed and then, after thanking Professor McGonagall for her help, I made my down to the dungeons. I knocked on Professor Snape's door and his voice rang from inside, "Enter!"

I entered hesitantly, fear knotting itself in my stomach. What could he possibly want? I closed the door behind me.

"Ah Miss Kane." Professor Snape said, "Good, come here."

I trailed up to where he was standing. He eyed me for a second and then gave me a box. "Er- what's this?" I asked, taking it.

I opened it and inside was a brass necklace. It looked familiar. I put the box down on the desk and pulled out the necklace. It was the necklace that I had given dad for Christmas one year. I opened up the locket. Inside was the picture I'd put in there and the lockets of red-brown hair.

I looked up at Snape confused and shocked, "W-where'd you get this?"

"I er- went out some mornings ago and searched the grass for something." Snape said, not looking at me. "I found this and kept it. I figured that if er- Fudge decided to separate you and your dad, you could keep this."

I swallowed hard and then, without thinking, I threw my arms around him and hugged him. I had caught him by surprise because he stumbled and then, he carefully put his arms around me as well.

"Thank you." I said, wiping away one tear as I pulled away. "We- we get to stay together, luckily. Dumbledore managed to convince Fudge. . . I'm so thankful that we get to stay together. I know that you hate him. . . but he's my dad. . . ya know? And-"

"You don't have to explain why you love him Elizabeth." Professor Snape said gently. "He's your dad and no matter what anyone else thinks, it shouldn't matter or affect your feelings."

"Is that your way of saying I should stop engaging in those fights?" I asked, a bit amused.

Snape's fingers brushed my cheek where a large yellow bruise sat on my cheekbone. "Perhaps." He said softly.

"I'll try." I said and then added, "But I will defend myself if they attack first."

"I wouldn't expect any less." Snape said, his lips twitching upwards.

I turned, clutching the locket to my chest, and got ready to leave when he said, "Elizabeth?"

I turned back to him and he said, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" I asked, frowning. I could still feel where his fingers had brushed my cheekbone.

"For what I said days ago. . .I would never. . .I would never have actually handed Lupin over to the dementors. I was. . .angry and I lost control of myself. I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean any of it. I was. . . pathetic."

I found myself approaching him again, wrapping my arms around him one more time and he squeezed me back tightly.

"I forgive you. It was a stressful night for all of us."

"It doesn't make it right." He whispered. His fingers touched the bruise again. "I hurt you horribly, something I never wanted to do."

"But it's okay." I say, pulling back just slightly. I wanted to touch his hair but refrained from doing so, keeping my hands behind his back. "Because I forgive you. I know you wouldn't have done it."

We stand there a moment longer, both my hands behind his back. One of his hands on my cheek, the other brushing my hair back. And then, I stepped backwards and without any more words between the two of us, I left the room without looking back.

.💙💙💙.

𝕳𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖞, 𝕳𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖊, 𝕽𝖔𝖓, and I weren't the only ones who were upset to see Professor Lupin resign. A majority of the Ravenclaws were trying to start up a sort of petition to bring dad back. The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs could be heard complaining in the halls and common rooms.

Dean Thomas hoped that maybe we'd get a vampire next year.

Our exam results came out on the last day of term. I'd passed all my classes with O's. Even Astronomy, though the grade wasn't as high as the others. But I'd only achieved the Astronomy O because of Firenze. These were the results:

Arithmancy: 248% Astronomy: 93% Care of Magical Creatures: 100% Charms: 208% Defense Against the Dark Arts: 198% Divination: 300% Herbology: 107% History of Magic: 205% Magical Theory 245% Muggle Studies: 320% Potions: 278% Study of Ancient Runes: 352% Transfiguration: 102%

Wild grades, I know. If they were all simple grades out of 100 points, all but Astronomy were 100%'s. . .with extra credit. Ancient Runes was a 98%. Astronomy was a 95 out of 100 points in Muggle terms. I think I might've preferred muggle grades. . . magical ones were to complex.

I went to Professor McGonagall after I received my grades, report card still in my hands.

"Yes, Miss Kane?" She asked when I entered the room.

"I want to drop Muggle Studies and Arithmancy." I said. "I know that means I'll still need the time-turner because I'll be two classes over but I did want to drop Muggle Studies and Arithmancy. I liked the classes, but I don't think I want to do another year like this last one."

I would still have Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Magical Theory, and Ancient Runes.

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Very well, I'll make sure your schedule reflects that."

I pulled the time-turner out of my pocket. "Will you keep it over the summer?"

Professor McGonagall held out her hand and took it from me. "Of course Miss Kane."

"Thank you." I said, turned, and left.

.💙💙💙.

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊 emptied, all my books were packed in my trunk, and I was boarding the Hogwarts Express so that I could go home and see dad.

I sat with Ron, Harry, and Hermione in a compartment and as the train pulled out of the station, Hermione said, "I went to see Professor McGonagall this morning, just before breakfast. I've decided to drop Muggle Studies."

"But you passed your exam with three hundred and twenty percent!" Ron exclaimed.

"I know. But I can't stand another year like this one. That Time-Turner, it was driving me mad. I've handed it in. Without Muggle Studies and Divination, I'll be able to have a normal schedule again." Hermione said with a sigh. She'd never taken Magical Theory.

"I dropped Muggle Studies and Arithmancy." I said. "But because I'm keeping Ancient Runes, Divination, Magical Theory, and Care of Magical Creatures, I'll still need the Time-Tuner."

Hermione shook her head. "You should've dropped Divination."

I shrugged, "It's helping me broaden my range for visions."

"I still can't believe you guys didn't tell us about it." Ron said grumpily. "We're supposed to be your friends."

"We promised we wouldn't tell anyone." Hermione said.

I glanced over at Harry who was looking out the window. I had my book It in my lap. I was re-reading it again- on Richie's point of view, talking about going to Neibolt Street with Stuttering Bill to see if Eddie was right about seeing one of the monsters there.

"Oh, cheer up, Harry." Hermione said sadly.

"I'm okay." Harry said quickly. "Just thinking about the holidays."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about them too. Harry you've got to come and stay with us. I'll fix it up with Mum and Dad, then I'll call you. I know how to use a fellytone now-"

I giggled.

"A telephone, Ron, honestly you should take Muggle Studies next year." Hermione said, highly amused.

"It's the Quidditch World Cup this summer! How about it, Harry? Come and stay, and we'll go and see it! Dad can usually get tickets from work!" Ron said, ignoring Hermione.

"Yeah. . . I bet the Dursleys'd be pleased to let me come. . . especially after what I did to Aunt Marge. . ." Harry said cheerfully.

"They'll let you go." I solidified. "Also, Sirius is going to send an owl and we'll receive it sometime after lunch hour."

"Thanks Elizabeth." Harry said with a grin, "I suppose you're more reliable than the news, aren't you?"

I grinned back. "Also Ron, your dad will get enough tickets for himself, Fred, George, Percy, Charlie, Bill, Ginny, you, Hermione, and Harry. I don't know if he gets more tickets than that but if not, let me know what the seats are so I can buy two tickets right next to you okay?"

"Sure." Ron said, his mouth dropping. "Why two? Is your dad going to come?"

"I don't know." I said, frowning. "I'm not sure why I said two but I'm sure it means something so keep that in mind if your dad does get more than those number of tickets."

"Sure." Ron said again.

After that, we played exploding snap. When the trolley witch came, I bought hot chocolate, chocolate chip cookies, a bar of Honeydukes chocolate, and vanilla cake with vanilla icing.

Harry laughed, "You got all chocolate things- minus the cake."

I nodded, "Reminds me of dad."

"You get to stay with him, don't you?" Hermione asked, alarmed.

I nodded. "Fudge dropped the case. Actually. . ." I hesitated, "I think Dumbledore might've er- put a spell on him to convince him. . .I don't know."

They all looked at me in surprise.

Then I asked with a growing smile, "Do you know who Fudge said he was going to put me up with if Dad and I were separated?"

They shook their heads, looking interested and I burst into giggles, "The Malfoys!"

"What!" They all exclaimed in various degrees of shock. I laughed harder.

"Yeah. Apparently Lucius Malfoy said he would take me in." I laughed harder.

Hermione and Ron still seemed in shock, but Harry was grinning too. "I suppose that would be why Dumbledore didn't let you leave your dad?"

I nodded, grinning. "Which I'm very thankful for, of course." It had actually quite frightened me, hearing Fudge tell me I was going to go live with Lucius Malfoy. And it had been hard, listening to Fudge praise Lucius Malfoy for being so kind as to take me in. I could only imagine that Dumbledore erased his memory or had done something because Dumbledore knew I couldn't go and stay with the Malfoys. I'd probably be killed over the summer or something.

"Harry!" Hermione pointed out the window. "There's an owl outside your window!"

"Oh yeah, that's from Sirius." I said, smiling.

Harry quickly opened the window and pulled the tiny owl into the train car. The owl dropped the letter into Harry's lap and zoomed around the compartment. Hedwig clicked her beak anxiously and Sadie hooted what sounded like what might've been a laugh. Crookshanks sat up in his seat, following the owl with his big yellow eyes. Ron quickly snatched the owl out of the air.

"Read it aloud!" I said excitedly.

Dear Harry, I hope this finds you before you reach your aunt and uncle. I don't know whether they're used to owl post. Buckbeak and I are in hiding. I won't tell you where, in case this owl falls into the wrong hands. I have some doubt about his reliability, but he is the best I could find, and he did seem eager for the job. I believe the dementors are still searching for me, but they haven't a hope of finding me here. I am planning to allow some Muggles to glimpse me soon, a long way from Hogwarts, so that the security on the castle will be lifted. There is something I never got around to telling you during our brief meeting. It was I who sent you the Firebolt-

Here, Hermione interrupted with a triumphant, "Ha! See! I told you it was from him!"

"Yes, but he hadn't jinxed it, had he?" Ron asked, "ouch!" he exclaimed as the Owl nibbled his fingers in an affectionate way.

Crookshanks took the order to the Owl Office for me. I used your name but told them to take the gold from my own Gringotts vault. Please consider it as thirteen birthdays' worth of presents from your godfather. If Eilís is there, tell her I'll get her something soon too. I would also like to apologize for the fright I think I gave you that night last year when you left your uncle's house. I had only hoped to get a glimpse of you before starting my journey north, but I think the sight of me alarmed you. I am enclosing something else for you, which I think will make your next year at Hogwarts more enjoyable. If ever you need me, send word. Your owl will find me. I'll write again soon. Sirius.

I grinned though I hoped that he didn't get me something super expensive. Harry looked in the envelop and pulled out a slip.

"That'll be good enough for Dumbledore!" Harry said happily. He showed us that it was a permission slip for Hogsmeade.

"Read the rest!" I said eagerly.

"P.S. I thought your friend Ron might like to keep this owl, as it's my fault he no longer has a rat." Harry read. We all looked at Ron.

His eyes widened and the tiny owl hooted excitedly. "Keep him?" He asked uncertainly. He looked closely at the owl and then, to Harry and Hermione's astonishment, he held him out for Crookshanks to sniff. "What d'you reckon? Definitely an owl?"

Crookshanks simply purred.

"That's good enough for me." Ron said happily. "He's mine."

Harry kept reading Sirius' letter over and over and we let him, playing exploding snap between the three of us. When the train stopped, I held Harry back for a second, my heart pounding. "So, Harry." I said quickly. "Since Sirius is both our godfather. . . do you want that to make us sister and brother?"

Harry stared at me for a second and then his grin got even wider and he said, "Of course. But you have to be my little sister, understand?"

I giggled and said, "Deal."

Then, arms linked, we quickly went to catch up with Ron and Hermione.

⬅️➡️

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barkspawn · 2 years

Note

hello! i'm the one that requested the first oneshot you did with elliott's secret book of poems :) i've been reading what you've written and you're doing really good <3 can i request elliott's 14 heart event reimagined where elliott comes to the farm from his book tour earlier than expected and suprises the farmer? preferably with the line "i never want to be without you again" :) thanks!

Oops that was fun

I've only seen his 14-heart event once, so bear with me <3 I hope you like how it turned out!

Amelia sighed as she read the poem Elliott sent her for the hundredth time today. He had been gone for 4 days now and she had no idea that a person could miss someone so much. She moved, placing it back on the table where it was safe from harm. She adored anything that he wrote to her, reading most of them when he was busy working on his next novel. She even had the small book filled with poems he had written before they even started dating. She absolutely adored them.

She laughed to herself as she crouched to pet Loaf, their faithful corgi. He often sat by the door, waiting for Elliott to arrive. It made Amelia oddly sad.

She felt like a woman in the days before technology, longing for a man far away as she cherished every correspondence. She sighed as she stepped out of the door, pulling on her sun hat as she moved to tend to her farm.

Hours passed as Amelia moved too slowly, distracted. It was close to 2 pm when she finally finished everything. She took the eggs, milk, and vegetables that she saved to the kitchen to prepare them as gifts or dinners. Once she had all of that put away, she made her way downstairs, pleased to see many of the casks and kegs completed. She would leave the wine to age for a while, though she wanted to try the wine made from the strange blue fruit that grew from an old seed. She bottled one of those, corking it carefully. She had plenty, so she moved on to the jellies, pickles, and cheeses.

Her haul was insanely large. She couldn’t wait to tell Elliott all about it. She’d finally be able to buy him the quill she saw him eyeing on their last trip into Grampleton.

She sighed, glancing at the letter that held the poem she had memorized at this point. She pulled her phone out and turned on some music, loud enough that she could sing along as she washed the vegetables, cutting some and storing others. She was careful as she cut them though, not wanting to go visit Harvey at the moment. She paused the music as she heard the door open, not turning to greet Leah. She had come over every night to hang out in Elliott's absence.

“Hey, Leah,” she called, “I’m almost done. Had a lot to pull today.”

She furrowed her brow at the silence, hearing the footsteps grow near, assuming it was Leah coming to check it all out. Just as she set the knife down, she felt someone wrap their arms around her, pressing a soft kiss to her neck. She gasped, immediately backing up and turning around to find out who the hell would even try something like this.

Elliott stood there, his smile growing wider the longer she looked at him in excitement.

“El…? You’re home?” She shook her head as if she was trying to shake away sleep.

“I certainly hope so, else my greeting would have been quite awkw—“ she bounced on her toes in excitement as he started to talk before she ran over to him, jumping up and wrapping herself around him.

His laugh echoed through the house as he caught her, making sure his feet were planted firmly so they didn’t fall over. She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, brushing his hair from his face, “El, I’m so happy you’re here… but the tour…?” he walked over, sitting her down on the counter and standing between her legs to keep her close.

“They had to cancel a few of them. The only one remaining is in Zuzu and I was hoping you’d accompany me?”

She nodded enthusiastically before taking him by the face and pulling him in for a heated kiss, earning a low hum of approval. Once she pulled back, she continued pressing feather-light kisses over his face as she spoke, “and what about when you have to go national?”

He chuckled, the way his lips made a crease by his lips drawing in her next kiss.

“If, darling. If I go on a national tour, you’re coming with me.”

She scanned his face for a moment, “wouldn’t I just get in the way?”

“Even if that were the case, I’d bring you. If they said no, I wouldn’t go.”

She frowned, idly playing with a strand of his hair, “I can’t hold you back, El. That’s not fair to you..”

She looked down, Elliott catching her chin, “simple, darling,” he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, “I never want to be without you again.”

She bit her lower lip before throwing her arms around him in a tight hug, pulling another laugh out of him, “you’re not letting go of me tonight, I presume?”

She laughed quietly, moving his hair to press little nips and kisses along his ear, jaw, and neck, “would you prefer I stop? I have four days to make up for.”

He hummed, leaning his head to the side for her to access.

He just hummed in approval, hands dipping under her thighs to pull her as close as possible.

She smirked against his neck, running her teeth over the soft skin. He released a nearly inaudible hum before she nipped the skin, a little more playful as she kissed up to his ear, gently nibbling his earlobe as her hands moved up to remove his tie.

“I know where we can start,” she hummed as she pulled the tie free, holding it against his chest and pulling back to meet his eyes, “take this, go into the bedroom, take off your clothes…” she smirked, “and tie this around your eyes.”

He looked surprised for a moment but smirked, leaning in to kiss her deeply for just a moment before walking to the room, already stripping his clothes off.

She smiled almost wickedly before tying her hair back and pulling the small box from under the counter that contained a new bra and panty set that she had planned to use for when he came home, perfect for this exact moment.

Quickly, she changed and ran to the bedroom to welcome her husband home properly.

#sdv elliott #sdv #elliott sdv #sdv fanfic #stardew valley #elliott #stardew valley elliott #elliott stardew valley #stardew elliott #oh look a one-shot #barkspawn oneshot

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nickgerlich · 16 days

Text

Minimal Existence

It has long been a given of our capitalistic, free-market economy that it is consumer-driven, not government-driven. The extent of this consumerism is felt so much that approximately 70% of our GDP is accounted for by people like you and me.

Well, 330 million or so people like you and me. Regardless, that’s a lot of shopping, buying, and using going on. Why, it’s almost as if we have a civic duty or something to keep this engine going. Without us, the whole thing may collapse, right?

As it turns out, generational differences are once again making themselves known. It is known as underconsumption, and while it is trending among all ages, it is especially noted in the TikTok community, which skews heavily toward GenZ and younger Millennials. Numerous videos by under-consuming influencers have been posted touting the minimalist lifestyle, one that stands in stark opposition to the way we used to do things.

We can point fingers at a variety of different undercurrents. COVID taught us all that we can get by with a lot less of everything. Inflation finds us tightening our belts. And then there are concerns over our carbon footprint, pollution, and all the residual downsides of an economy centered on “make it and they will buy.”

That doesn’t mean we aren’t still buying. It’s just that we are buying different things. It can be seen when people opt to buy quality instead of quantity. It can be seen in our decor that is decidedly stark and simple. It can especially be witnessed in our closet when there is space between garments hanging on the rack, as opposed to shoved in, millimeters (if any) apart.

Even I, pretty far removed from today’s young adults just starting on their journey, am finding myself much less enamored of “things.” I am trying to shed stuff, not acquire more. I can afford to buy. I just don’t want it anymore, the allure of shiny and new long since faded.

Yes, I will buy that new iPhone 16 I wrote about two days ago. In fact, irony of ironies, it was that same day that my iPhone 12 decided to completely crash in the middle of the night. This had happened two years ago, and I found the rescue sequence to resuscitate it then as well as yesterday. Still, it took 21 hours for my phone to come back to more or less full functionality, mostly because it was having to re-index 140,000+ images.

Here’s a pro tip: Make sure you back up everything to iCloud. It will be the best $10 a month you ever spend. Otherwise, I would have lost everything. So yeah…I think Apple is telling me it’s time for a new phone. But I digress.

I am far from perfect, though, and still have plenty of material possessions. I fear that when I die, my kids will just hire a huge roll-off dumpster and they will toss everything into it.

So what are people, especially younger people, spending their money on? Simple. Experiences. I even mentioned this in the lecture for this week. Youngest Daughter went to Spain earlier this year just because she wanted to. Oldest Daughter and her hubs went camping in the mountains for their vacay, and went hiking, leaving behind the 2800-square-foot house they recently bought in Frisco.

They have lamented how empty it feels inside, because their house is far greater than their possessions at their young ages. I told them not to worry about it, but to take photos, and then look at them in a couple of years. Stuff will find you, I said. At least they have the benefit of stopping possessions creep while the house is still sparse. It’s a lot harder after you’ve already done it.

The longer-term implications for our economy are significant. It could very well signify a switch from retail to more and more services. It could mean we do ever more thrifting, looking for cheaper alternatives to new goods, and breathing new life into things cast away by someone else. It could mean hanging on to things until they die a natural death, not one brought about by perceived obsolescence.

You could say we have been headed in this direction for a while already, but we just didn’t recognize it. The average vehicle in the US is now 12.6 years old. I have been contributing to this trend for many years, because I truly drive a vehicle until the wheels fall off. And even then, I might be looking for new wheels to put on it.

Meanwhile, I’m going to spend some quality time this weekend going through stuff, part of an ongoing process around here as I seek to live a more minimal consumer existence. Things will go in piles: Goodwill, eBay, dumpster. And I sure hope each of those piles is big.

The economy will just have to figure out how to get by with a little less of me buying things, along with everyone the TikTok influencers are encouraging to under-consume.

It’s a trend, and it feels good. I’ll buy that.

Dr “Less And Less” Gerlich

Audio Blog

#marketing #minimalism #underconsumption

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midorishinji · 6 months

Text

Peter’s denial and repentance

I hate so intensely, and so many things, that it seems like this hate consumed me and burned everything I had inside, everything that took me so many years to build. There's nothing left here. And this time, I don't have a set deadline to see this cycle end, like five or six years of college. This is simply the rest of my life. “Truly I tell you,” Jesus answered, “this very night, before the rooster crows, you will disown me three times.”

Original work ｜Part IV of the "A girl by the sea"｜Also published in Portuguese and on AO3

a.n: I wrote this awhile ago, while going Through It, and tthis is the story that actually encouraged me to publish "Agnosthesia" as an ebook. I have a soft spot for it, evidently.

I hate having graduated from college. I hate having to work, in the same way that I hated not having a job (and, consequently, not having money). I hate the office environment. I hate dealing with people all the time. I hate so intensely, and so many things, that it seems like this hate consumed me and burned everything I had inside, everything that took me so many years to build. There's nothing left here.

Suddenly, it's like 2017 all over again. The walls are closing in around me: I'm alone, my friends are far from here, far from my routine. Everyone’s finding themselves, fitting into the life they chose, except for me — I'm still lost, my head in the clouds, dreaming of things that don't exist. Back then, I only listened to Smashing Pumpkins' “1979” for six months straight, and now I listen to “Galapogos” incessantly, because nothing resonates more than “and rescue me from me, and all that I believe ” or “ and tell me I am still the man I'm supposed to be ”. Nothing is more familiar than a time loop. But this time, I don't have a set deadline to see this cycle end, like five or six years of college. This is simply the rest of my life.

Thinking about it makes me want to cry, and lately, all I think about is crying all day — between one patient and another, while I'm running on the treadmill to optimize my time, while I'm taking a shower so I don't make too much noise because I don't wanna bother my parents, and because I know there's no point in bothering them, anyway. Three different doctors recommended taking me to a neuropsychiatrist when I was a kid, suspecting autism: one because I refused to speak (even though I was physically and mentally capable of doing so) and had learned to read and write on my own, much earlier than expected; another because the school wanted to skip me from the first grade straight to the fifth grade of elementary school because I was too advanced for the class and all the lessons bored me; and the third because young girls do not normally have such an obsessive interest in poisons, toxins and radioactivity at the age of eight. Three times my parents denied it, like Saint Peter denied Jesus. I'm afraid of going to a psychologist or psychiatrist and finding out that something really is wrong with me. I'm afraid I'll discover that my life could have been easier if I had an ICD-10 code stamped on my forehead. I'm afraid to know what would change if I had a name for what I feel. Most of all, I'm afraid that there will be no answer and I will be forced to spend the rest of my days with this nameless anguish inside me.

I'm afraid of a lot of things. Today, when a patient missed an appointment, I used my free half hour to search online for psychologists who work under my health insurance, and I didn't have the courage to call any of them. I used to think I was brave, but the putrid odor of cowardice emanates from me: I'm just this quiet little thing, who swallows everything silently, fearful, scared, coward . I'm afraid nothing will change. I'm afraid everything will change. I'm afraid I'm no longer the person I should (could?) be. I think, most of all, I hate being myself. If God were fair, or good, he would give me an immediate way out of this career situation out of pity, a deus ex machina like winning the lottery: I always pick the same numbers, those numbers.

I get home and go watch Gilmore Girls, a recommendation from a friend from college who I haven't spoken to since we graduated because she works full-time, and so do I. For a few hours, I forget that I am me, and get lost in Stars Hollow. I sympathize with Jess and his postmodern Holden Caulfield way of hiding his sensitive writer soul. Unlike me, he has courage. Every now and then, I think about publishing “Agnosthesia” as an original story — it's ready, edited, stored in the virtual Google Drive vault — and I always falter. I’d have to make a cover art, and put it on Kindle or another ebook format, and... I’d have to publish it, and I'm afraid. I'm terrified of the reception being negative, because this story is a part of me in a way that I can't explain, and my heart is that of a bird, if someone blows too close to it, it could fall apart like grains of sand between my fingers. I admire Jess because he has courage, and he's going to publish his book — I haven't gotten to that episode yet, I confess, but the spoiler amuses me. Maybe one day my turn will come too. Perhaps. I wish I could tell Rory to drop out of Yale and run away with Jess, that's what I would have done: but I, as always, am a coward. I would always choose to run away.

#fanfiction #fanfic #writing #ao3 #original work #original writing #poetry #musings #a girl by the sea #bible verse #bible #biblical references #smashing pumpkins #agnosthesia #saint peter #neurodivergent

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boydepartment · 2 years

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Hi everyone, it's your favorite sheep anon. =) How are you doing today? For me, I’m doing so much better than I was 3 months ago. It’s been a rough year for a lot of people, including myself, but I’ve grown and changed so much. I looked at the first few messages I sent and totally cringed at what I wrote, but it just means that I’ve improved. I feel like sharing a bit of a personal revelation with the longest message to date, so prepare yourself with a text wall, like seriously, it's long.

Earlier this week, I was doing a deep clean of my room, and after looking at all the junk in my room, I came to the realization that, wow, I was really scared of the future. I hoarded a lot of stuff from years ago just for the sake of holding onto the past. I think I was really scared of growing up and changing.

One of my biggest flaws is that I lived my life passively. I waited for someone or something that would start my own life. I didn't chase my dreams and waited for opportunities to come to me. To be honest, I was influenced by the media that I needed an inciting incident to start my own life. It was probably because I felt inadequate to actually living my own life, if that makes sense. Just a big case of imposter syndrome. I would read and hear about the perfect ride-or-die friend group, having sleepovers, and driving on the highway until 3 am. I was always waiting for that one person that I could spill all of my secrets to because I was so lonely. If anything bad happened, it would be okay, because I just needed to wait just a little bit longer for that person to arrive, then I would finally be able to start living. I kept all of my feelings to myself until that day would arrive. Honestly, I was just deluding myself that that one person would enter my life and everything would just magically get better. I didn't even realize that I was drowning in my own isolation. Waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting for my life to begin.

But I don't think I can live like this any longer. I am still extremely scared of the future, but treating my life as a prologue isn't how I want to live my life. "Agency–the ability to control your destiny, instead of waiting for destiny to happen–is the key to joy, the ultimate refutation of despair." -Joanne Mullunaro. I was waiting for someone else to do what I could only do, live my own life. I know this choice will be one of the hardest decisions I ever make. Maybe I'll crash and burn, but waiting for the rest of my life for someone else to dictate my life is no longer something I'm willing to do.

It took me a very long time to take out everything in my room, but after coughing on a lot of dust and organizing, I felt a lot better. I think I'm ready now.

I'm probably the most vulnerable on here. The advice and messages I write I have never told anyone in my own personal life. I'm sure some people would call them cheesy or overdramatic. It's a bit weird reading them though because there's a separation between who I was back when I wrote them, and who I am now. I still believe in what I wrote, and the fact that I've impacted anyone with my messages is insane for someone who spends most of their time in their own head. When I was younger, I wished that someone would tell me how hard life was, but I believe that in the midst of the darkness, there will be light, you just have to reach out for it. =) Oh, and it would be my honor to be your pen pal. <3

Yours truly,

Sheep anon 🐑

Hi my dear and favorite sheepie,

I want to apologize that this reply is late, I started my period yesterday and had intense migraines and nausea :( but I am here now to reply!!! I am okay just in a little pain lol

I’m really glad you can find yourself growing and improving over the course of you writing me little messages!!! I think that’s really special and I’m happy to read through your journey :)

I really need to clean through my room too and get rid of stuff, I have way too many old clothes from thrifting. I get what you mean by holding onto the past, I need to start letting things go as well.

One thing that I understand is wanting those ride or die friends. I really understand wanting that true friend group. I thought I had that in highschool and a little into my college year, we did used to do those 3am drives and such. At the time it was fun and stupid, but the more I grew the more I realized that spontaneous friend group can be really dangerous. Some JayJay lore here. Back in highschool I had this friend who used to be my best friend, we had a falling out recently which im not mad about at all. Over the years I noticed her being spontaneous was really dangerous and dragging me places that I really didn’t want to fall down, i.e substances, being rude to me, commenting on my body, etc. I used to think this girl was my ride or die, same with another friend we had who went down the same path. Not every going on a 3am drive friends are like this. But if you ever do end up with spontaneous friends, please be careful. A lot of them are not what they seem.

I think one person in your life can change everything. It’s just fate running into that person. I luckily found my person when I was 14, he really has changed my life for the better. I don’t think he knows it but I owe him a lot. He’s helped me through almost everything and I’m really thankful for him. We’ve both grown as people and even though it took a lot of people and friend groups to find eachother and get closer, I wouldn’t trade my connection with him for anything. Waiting for that one person that changes your life is okay, but I wouldn’t wait on the sidelines. Still try to make friends and you never know where it could lead. I met my best friend because I dmed him on instagram saying I needed friends. It was all done on a whim. Fate, if you will.

Being scared of the future is really relatable. I have no clue what I’m doing in life and that is okay. You really don’t have to know. It’s okay to not know is what I’m saying. As long as you’re stepping somewhere and growing and learning, that is what’s most important. Making mistakes is the second best thing you can do, learning from those said mistakes is the absolute best thing you can do for yourself.

Sheepie your messages really do help me reflect on things as well. I’m very thankful for you being able to show your vulnerability to my blog. I’m also very thankful that I can watch you grow through your messages as well, it makes me feel special :)

I can’t wait to hear from you again sheepie ❤️ I am very happy to be your pen pal too

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edelweissacermacrophyllum · 2 years

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Another genealogy, comfort, and John the baptizer

Genesis 4:17-6:22, Psalm 3, Matthew 2:19-3:17

The genealogy given of Adam and his immediate descendents made a lot of sense to me as a kid. It also helped make sense of the creation/evolution thing. In the garden on Eden Adam and Eve were immortal and lived for a long time. After they were evicted the effects of the fruit of the tree of life took some time to leave their systems and the systems of their kids. Why Methuselah lived longer than his parents, I don't know. Good hydration, maybe.

These days, I look at it and see hallmarks an origin myth. The story ends with an explanation saying: And so their days will be limited to a hundred and twenty years, which is more reasonable today, but I wouldn't expect the adult lifespan of those days to be longer than eighty, even if we only counted those who died of old age.

There's a lot of weird beings listed here, and perhaps there's more information on them in other Jewish writings. The nephilim and Enoch, who apparently didn't die, these characters are never referenced again. Yet they are mentioned here. Why? Because the bible was written by humans and includes a lot of folklore and myth and many different genre's in addtion to history. It is intended to be an inspired collection of works of literature that tell people about the nature of the interactions of God and humans, but just as the fingerprints of God are all over it, so are the fingerprints of humans. In that way it's kind of like the earth. And this isn't bad or sacreligious at all. We were never meant to worship this book. We were ordered, as I mentioned earlier, to play at being god.

The human influence on the world turned out to be decidedly bad, however, God starts prepping for a flood.

The psalm today is a good comfort to those in a tribal society: My enemies are at the gate, but God is at my back. As to what it says today, I'm not sure. Most people in our society have a distinct lack of enemies. Do billionaires qualify? I wrestle mostly with my own head. I'm going to assume that God cares about anxiety and depression because he cares about people. If I am my own worst enemy, Jesus's command to love one's enemies still holds true, I think.

And in Matthew we come to John the Baptist, Jesus's second cousin, who has taken to propheting in the good old traditional sense. John is out in the wilderness, yelling at powerful people. He calls the religious elite, "son's of serpents", or in context, "satan's babies". I enjoy this because throughout all of history, there have been people who have claimed to be God's chosen people, but in those circumstances, you see God perfectly willing to choose someone else. Jesus's family tree includes Canaanites, Moabites, Hittites, etc, and so when John says to the religious elite (I almost wrote Jewish elite there) that God will drop them like a moldy grape and choose some other people, there is good precedent for this.

And here's another thing that today's Christians would do well to remember: biblical protagonists' criticisms are almost always directed inward and upward, at their own people and own rulers and especially at the religious leaders. There is not a lot of biblical defence of punching down.

Jesus does show up to be baptized by John, and we hear him speak for the first time in Matthew. John suggests that Jesus out-ranks him and should be the baptizer in this situation, but Jesus says that no, it is right that he should be baptized, to start his ministry. I will paraphrase Jesus in this blog, because all translation is paraphrasing, and all commentary is imposing oneself onto the text. I may be even flippant with my paraphrase of Jesus words. I will try to stop short of outright blasphemy, however.

Jesus is baptized then, and heaven opens and God bestows his approval on him. I think that there is significance to this moment, in which the Spirit of God (which I capitalize because traditionally they are one of the persons of the trinity) descends on Jesus. Up until now, traditionally, Jesus has been just a normal dude, for thirty years it seems. We don't know much at all. But now, as he is baptized and gains the Spirit, he and God publicly declare that he is starting something. What he is starting, well, is the course of events leading up to the construction of the Creation Science Museum in Petersburg, Kentucky.

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amoveablejake · 2 years

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Days Gone By

A look back at 2022.

It isn’t exactly the end of the year I know but it is pretty close. Whats more is, this is actually the only time that I’ll be able to do my 2022 in review piece as I have actually planned what the next few weeks pieces are going to be. Yes, I know, I have actually scheduled the next few pieces and decided on topics that I will not deviate from due to fear of not fitting everything in so that is why the look back at 2022 is happening today, a couple of weeks early. Well, I say a look back at the year that has gone but really it is my alternative awards. Now regular and devoted readers, I know there are hordes of you, will be familiar with the awards but for those who aren’t. Rather than work through an awards list for the year, I will try and find a little bit more of an interesting way to explore some of the things that have made up the past year. Some of these won’t be my favourite things and others will be but the point is that the things on this list will be some of the key aspects to what made 2022 the year that it was.

The award for I can’t believe this place is real goes to Serris, France. Now, look, when I say that I can’t believe Serris in France is real I should explain a little bit. When I went to France the day after my birthday back in August, I stayed in a town outside Paris called Serris which for those in the know is next to Disneyland. I got off my long distance train at the Disneyland station, walked through Disney Village and was then faced with, sort of nothing. There were some car parks and fields. The walk was only ten minutes but after a fair few trains it felt a lot longer and I was very curious about the town I was approaching as there didn’t seem to be any sight of it that is until I turned a corner and saw a wall of very cool looking buildings. Its hard to describe walking into Serris as it was as if there was a force field you had to walk through to go from field to suddenly being in what seemed to be an expertly designed town with beautiful streets and everything you could ask for. Now, I’m sure to many people Serris will seem completely normal but for me, it felt rather special. It was quiet, it was clean, it was very pretty and seemed to have everything figured out. What I’ve found is that all of my favourite places seem to be ones that just work and have it all figured out and Serris was that.

The album that I didn’t expect to have such an emotional impact. ‘I’m Going Home’ by ED. Earlier this year, the artist ED came into my life through Club Flamingo and ever since then I haven’t looked back. I wasn’t familiar with ED’s work before ‘Forever’ but a time without their music in my life seems like a distant memory. After repeatedly turning to ‘Forever’ when I wasn’t sure what to put on, I was very excited to see another album from ED appear in my library from being a part of Club Flamingo. Before I had even listened to ‘I’m Going Home’ I read one of the comments under the album about someone who was travelling home after something had happened in their family and how the album and its song titles had really hit home with them when they needed it most. That review really touched me with how honest and open it was and I too fell in love with ‘I’m Going Home’. The thing is, the subject that was raised in that review actually happened to my family later on in the year and almost instinctively at that time I turned to ‘I’m Going Home’ the words of that reviewer in my head. I’ll never know who wrote that comment and I don’t really need to. What I do know is that I will always share a connection with them that we both experienced the same thing this year and both took solace in the same album, in my case thanks to them. Sometimes in life its these connections that aren’t really connections that do mean a great deal and this one certainly does for me.

The better than I could have ever hoped award goes to seeing James Taylor in London with my Mum. Quite a while ago I booked tickets for my Mum and I to go and see James Taylor perform in London. The concert ended up being postponed a couple of times and I always worried that maybe it wouldn’t end up happening. It did however, get a date confirmed and locked in at long last and that date ended up coming at quite a poignant time for my Mum and I. Even without everything else that was going on for us, the James Taylor concert was always going to have a lot of meaning for his history to my Mum, his history to me and our shared history with him. There is a lot of feelings and emotions tied up in his music for us and seeing him at that time, well, there was even more going on to connect to it. And on that night in October, everything in the universe seemed to line up as we walked into the concert hall and moments later James Taylor appeared and it truly was the performance of a lifetime. What it meant for me and I know to my Mum, I wouldn’t be able to put into words. We know and really that is all that matters. Sometimes, you don’t realise how special something is until after the fact but in this case I absolutely knew in that moment and you better believe I cherished every second and always will.

The I don’t think you should be here award, Cristiano Ronaldo playing in my city. I love my city, I do however, its football team isn’t the best. And whilst I have a real soft spot for the team and the stadium they play in I am under no illusion that it isn’t the best which really is kind of the charm. Its not hiding who it is and its an honest, hard working team. Well, for most of the season until they give up. The point is, that when big stars come to play my local team it can feel a little funny as these players really should only be playing at the biggest stadiums in the world in front of their legions of fans. Now, that has never been more true than with Cristiano Ronaldo and when I saw him playing at the stadium in the summer. It didn’t feel real. An icon of world football, one of the greatest football players in history, warming up metres away from me at this little stadium on the south coast, unbelievable. Now, Cristiano Ronaldo at the moment is unemployed as he left my club under, look we already know what happened but that doesn’t matter. He will always mean the world to me, no matter who he plays for and I am truly thankful that I got to see him play and that I got to see him play for Manchester United.

Now, I could keep giving out awards left right and centre and thats exactly what I’m going to do except these awards will be a little more quick fire than the above as we need to keep this train moving.

The award for I didn’t expect to see you here goes to Taylor Swift who made a surprise appearance at the Haim concert and I don’t think my ears have recovered from the screaming that accompanied her.

The you keep knocking it out of the park award goes to Trickett. Another year of the best items from the best brand in Accrington or anywhere for that matter.

The funniest Youtube show from Austalian podcasters about a cult hidden in a video game award goes to ‘Finding Yeezus’. A specific award, maybe, and even though there was only one entry they were always going to win.

The I can never get enough award goes to the Doughboys Podcast. The Doughboys podcast remains my number one podcast for I think what is the seventh year in a row and I really wouldn’t have it any other way.

The I can’t believe games can do this award goes to ‘Journey’. The majority of people already know that ‘Journey’ is a masterpiece and a perfect example of what video games as a platform can achieve however, I’m going to add my two cents to that matter aswell and...um...agree with what I just said actually.

The best smell of the year award goes to, Moleskine notebooks. There is something about that fresh paper smell from a Moleskine notebook that means it has to be immortalised with this award.

The I find you quite scary but you’re still my guy award goes to Stephen King. It was definitely a Stephen King summer before I read some of his scarier work and got put off however, even though I have dropped off of his work in the last few months his writing has still had a huge impact on me over the past year.

The thing of the year award, the Oslo public transport app. Do you have a few hours, days or weeks to give up. Then please, let me use it to tell you how good the Oslo public transport app is because it is out of this world good. So good, its my thing of the year. I’m not sure what else would go into this category but whatever it is, it wouldn’t be able to compete.

2022 has been quite a year for many different reasons, full of happy and sad times, adventures, escapades and stories that I will tell for years to come. It has been filled with cherished memories and those souls no longer with us in person but who will always be with us in spirit. The year is not over, there is still more of its story to be written however, those are my awards for now but yes, I do reserve the right to amend them based on what may come in the next couple of weeks. Either way, 2022, it has been a journey.

-Jake, a man mentally in Buenos Aires right now, 18/12/2022

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dancingdimitri · 4 years

Text

Let me talk about Dimitri and sincerity and honesty for a minute.

“Sincere” is the word Byleth uses to describe Dimitri at their first meeting, and even just from Dimitri’s self-introduction it struck me how self-aware, eloquent, and expressive he is. Even when his emotional response to something might be considered excessive (like when he gets excited about seeing Byleth and Jeralt fight together, or Byleth’s smile) he makes no attempt to deny it and expresses it anyway, albeit apologetically. And it’s not just Dimitri himself, either -- he actively encourages those around him to be sincere as well. Even though he sometimes takes insult at Felix’s disparaging remarks, Dimitri defends Felix’s freedom of expression; he doesn’t want Felix to pretend he thinks Dimitri is the best thing since sliced bread purely for his sake. You might even say Dimitri is earnest to a fault; I’ve seen him get some pokes from the fandom for being so straightforward on more than one occasion. In truth, I find Dimitri’s honesty really refreshing. I feel like I’m so used to defending their own position or their ulterior motives that they’re okay with undermining other characters somewhat for their metaphorical step ahead. And I imagine it’s not particularly easy for him, either, since from what I gather his upbringing as a prince wasn’t particularly favorable to his sensitive, expressive personality. Basically, I feel like Dimitri is one of the last people I would expect to lie to my face, especially for his own personal gain.

...Which isn’t to say he’s never not fully truthful. One of my favorite parts about the story/writing in Blue Lions is the gradual, bit-by-bit release of information, with respect to Dimitri’s backstory and his personal motivations. We get the inkling that he’s up to something when he stays up late in the library, apparently perusing records of donations to the Church of Seiros, without ever saying what for. When things take a turn for the worse, insists that his headache is just from lack of sleep; he insists that he’s fine when he’s clearly distressed at the situation in Remire Village. It’s not until afterwards that he tells Byleth he’s out for revenge, and it’s even later that Dimitri inadvertently lets slip that it’s his dead family’s voices commanding him to secure that vengeance. Even in spite of his honest character, he does withhold information from others, whether to prevent them from getting in his way, or for his own safety -- because let’s be real, with the understanding of mental health (i.e. lack thereof) people probably have in the world of Three Houses, if anyone knew the Crown Prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus was hallucinating, he’d be in what might be vaguely described as a heap of trouble (and in that case, who can blame him?). But even then, he still never tries to deny his emotions and actions. He’s very apologetic about alarming the Professor and the others, yes, but doesn’t try to pretend that the incident at Remire Village never happened. And even if it’s true that some more transparency (with the Professor, at the very least) could have been been beneficial to him in Part 1, I can’t find it in myself to blame Dimitri for not opening up more about things that are obviously deeply personal to him and might even be called his “deepest, darkest secrets,” especially when he takes longer to genuinely trust others and learn to depend on them a little more.

--Which brings me to an aspect of his growth in Part 2 that I particularly appreciate. Even with how earnest and straightforward he already is, he learns to be more honest and truthful with people to whom he is close, around whom he feels safe - people he really does trust - even when doing so makes him emotionally vulnerable - something that can hardly be called easy to do, which is perhaps why I find such growth so admirable. I think to me this is the most powerful aspect of his anagnorisis (the “rain scene” after chapter 17): in admitting that he is wrong and asking Byleth for help, Dimitri knowingly puts himself in an incredibly vulnerable position for a chance at changing for the better. From this point in the story onwards, he opens up to Byleth noticeably more, even to the point of discussing his thoughts with them in a straightforward manner upon being asked “Are you okay?” And he still doesn’t deny any of his less favorable actions or aspects, acknowledging that all of them are real parts of his “true” self.

I forgot if I had some sort of conclusion in mind for this, but I guess I just wanted to express how much I appreciate Dimitri’s sincerity -- especially because “sincere” is kind of just. a word that’s tacked onto his face in the prologue on the player’s behalf, and it’s pretty easy just to take it at face value since it seems like such an obvious descriptor of his earnest demeanor. Though he is unusually honest, at the same time he’s far from perfectly truthful, yet in ways that I find it difficult to fault him for given his circumstances and what he feels is most important. And still he finds ways to improve once he’s in a situation where he feels it is safe to allow himself the vulnerability it often takes to be fully honest with oneself and others. Maybe you could say that’s a particularly admirable growth, and anyway, because of all this, I do find him especially trustworthy.

#dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem #dimitri #or something! words are hard #i wrote a lot of this in my head earlier today but it took longer to type out than i expected #so i spaced out a few times in the middle and lowkey forgot what i was trying to say #and i'm still not ENTIRELY sure what i'm trying to say?? but yeah. dimitri good

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kyojurokoibito · 3 years

Text

"There's A Baby In There!"

Pairing(s): kyojuro rengoku x reader

Genre: fluff

Synopsis: kyojuro feels your baby kick for the first time

Warning(s): rengoku being a precious baby

Kao's Note(s): got this idea from an episode of the big bang theory and i thought it was the cutest moment; i wrote another version of this earlier today, but i accidentally deleted it. that one was a lot better than this one, so now I'm kinda salty

part 2

okay, so this man is the most loving and affection lover alive

and if you say otherwise, you're wrong

but he smiles SO MUCH whenever you're around

he smiles enough as it is, but it's 10x as big once he's anywhere near you, it can honestly be a little frightening to see if you don't know any better though

he is always so excited to see you, anytime you were anywhere near him, his smile would become that much brighter, putting the sun itself to shame and he'll immediately rush over to you

even if you just saw each other moments ago, if you're in the same room as him again, he's by your side in an instant and quickly scooping you up into his arms

your relationship with kyojuro is a lively one full of nothing but love, warmth, and plenty of laughs

he's an extremely doting lover too

since you're also one of his fellow pillars, he has no issues with showcasing his feelings on the matter of your training; telling you if you're training too hard or too long, even though it was just and excuse to get you to cuddle with him

"my love, you have trained far too long! come, you must rest now!"

"kyo, i haven't even picked up my swor–"

well it doesn't matter because he's already scooped you up into his arms, running full speed towards his private quarters for one of his much appreciated cuddle sessions

but it wasn't uncommon for your "cuddle sessions" to turn into something more

so it didn't come as a surprise when shinobu had confirmed your pregnancy at the butterfly estate after one morning of feeling sick

but kyojuro did give you quite the scare because when you initially broke the news go him, he let out a gasp, and was quick to run away, but all of your worries went away when you heard kyojuro shout from at the top of his lungs to every pillar that crossed his path, "MY BEAUTIFUL Y/N IS PREGNANT!"

soon, he returned to you and when he did, you were immediately scooped up in his arms, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around in circles

"we're having a baby! my love, you're pregnant!"

a lot of laughs and cheerful tears were shed that day, but you and kyojuro were over the moon with the news

kagaya was happy for you both as well, he was sure to postpone both your missions during the duration of your pregnancy and well after the little bundle of joy arrived

you and kyojuro gave the master your warmest thanks, and he wished you a healthy pregnancy

kyojuro wasted no time sending a letter back home with his exciting news, senjuro wrote back in an instant and expressed his excitement for becoming an uncle

kyojuro's father took a little longer to write back, but his letter was short, sweet, and to the point, not that it surprised either of you, but you were pleasantly surprised when he congratulated you both on the new addition that'll arrive in nine months

now, kyojuro's more doting than he's ever been

kyojuro listened intently to every word shinobu said, remembering every word that the she was telling you to expect during each trimester of your pregnancy; telling you what to eat and what not to eat, providing a warning for the morning sickness, mood swings, etc.

he won't let you lift a finger now

kyojuro makes sure you're always getting enough rest, doesn't allow you to get up for any reason especially once you're farther along into your pregnancy

one time he felt you move an inch, and he immediately snapped his head to you, "where are you going, my love," you gave a gentle smile, "just getting some water, kyo"

no you're not, because before you could even get up, kyojuro already raced out of the room, and came back with gallons of water just so you wouldn't have to worry about running out

although, his favorite thing to do was talk to the baby in your belly

nearly every morning, you'd wake up to kyojuro's soft whispers to your growing baby, "we can't wait to meet you," and, "you must stop causing your beautiful mother's back to ache so much, little flame," and "oh, let me tell you of the time your mother...," and he'd proceed to tell your growing baby about a fond memory of you

it was definitely a heartwarming sight to wake up to

he absolutely loves spooning you and your baby, he'll wrap his arm around your waist and caress your swelled belly, just barely containing his excitement for becoming a father

but nothing could beat the night he felt your little baby kick for the first time

it was a beautiful night.

the fireflies were a great addition to the twinkling stars above, the deep songs of the toads filled air, and the moon cascaded a beautiful, soft spotlight on the couple.

you were fast asleep, sleeping peacefully. well, as peacefully as you could with the added weight of a baby. but even with kyojuro's waiting on you hand and foot, pregnancy takes quite the toll on your body. and you've come to appreciate sleep now more than ever.

but kyojuro was wide awake.

try as he may, and do as he might, sleep wouldn't come easily to kyojuro tonight. he was far too excited thinking about his son or daughter growing in your swelling belly. last week, the insect hashira had informed you both that you had four more months left before your bundle of joy would around. if they chose to arrive on time, of course.

but that's all kyojuro could think about.

as soon as he witnessed your nurturing nature towards tanjiro, zenitsu, inosuke, and most importantly, towards his little brother, he knew you'd make a great mother. you'd even taken care of his father once before when he was far too drunk to get around himself.

kyojuro shifted so that his cheek rested atop your head, his arms draped over your waist with his hand gingerly rubbed circles on your swollen stomach. a gentle smile formed on his lips at the mere thought of your baby being born.

abruptly, kyojuro let out a quiet gasp.

quickly shifting to his knees, which caused the bed go shake a little, kyojuro hovered over you placed both hands onto your stomach and waited.

feeling the sudden motion behind you, your eyebrows furrowed as you began to stir awake. "kyo? what're you doing?" he gently shushed you.

"shh, shh...wait just a moment, my love," you both waited, and it happend again.

kyojuro felt the small thump against his hand.

he gasped again, "my love, did you feel that?! it was a kick!" kyojuro pointed to your stomach and looked to you with child-like wonder. "there's a baby in there!" you couldn't help but giggle.

"oh yeah, that's where i put 'em," you joked groggily while smiling fondly at kyojuro's excitement.

"forgive me for waking you! i am just so excited," he paused for a moment to pulled you into his side, placing a kiss onto your forehead.

"i know, kyo, i'm excited too," you snuggled into his side, feeling your eyelids grow heavy. "but you must get some sleep, shinobu asked to see us again in the morning."

"yes, you are right!" kyojuro pulled the warm blanket over your bodies. "comfortable?" you softly nodded, already feeling sleep starting to overcome you.

finally, kyojuro felt himself grow weary and his eyes becoming heavy, and he was able to find sleep with soft thumping of feet against his hand.

#rengoku kyōjurō #kyojuro headcanons #kyojuro fluff #demon slayer #rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku x you #kimetsu no yaiba #rengokukyoujorou #kyojuro x you #kyojuro rengoku #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku x y/n #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x y/n #kyojuro rengoku x pregnant reader #kyojuro x pregnant reader #♡rori.writes

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cam3lliaw · 2 years

Text

An apology letter from me to you

The sequel to this fanfic "A letter from me to you"

Diluc x f! reader

~2k words

Angst to fluff

Warnings: reader accused of cheating, mentions of anxiety, reader crying, using of pet names("my love"), implied abandonment issues at some point (I think that's all)

A/N: it is a bit rushed imo but I think i wrote what I wanted to say

More under the cut :)

Diluc forgot how lonely the bed felt without you on it. He got so used to sleeping next to you every night, without even realizing. But as usually, people start appreciating something right when they lose it. He hopes he didn't lose you just yet. The pyro user regrets the harsh words he threw at you earlier, and is determined to fix everything as soon as possible.

The mattress shifted as you finally came into bed in yours and Diluc's shared bedroom. Diluc was now at ease, he didn't know the time, but he guessed it was around 3 am.

He didn't go after you when you went out earlier, but that does not mean he wasn't worried about you and your safety. Now that you're near him, he can rest.

...

Diluc was woken up by a ray of sunshine that passed through the thick curtains of the room. He wanted to reach you and press a little kiss on your forhead, a thing he got used to doing since you two started living together. But...you weren't on your side of the bed.

Usually, Diluc's day starts at around 5am, when the sun has yet to come out completly, a time when you would be normaly sound asleep next to him, but considering that you weren't, it means he must have overslept.

As he stepped out the room, he met Adelinde in the hallway.

"Oh! Good morning, or perhaps it would be more fitting to say good afternoon, Master Diluc! " greeted happily the head maid. "Should I make you some breakfast or do you want to eat lunch? The cook just finished making today's lunch."

"Good...afternoon, Adelinde, can you tell me what time is it? " Diluc asked.

'Afternoon? Lunch? Just how long did I sleep?' Diluc wondered.

" I think it's 1 PM. Why? Did the maids have to wake you up and they didn't? Miss [name] said that-"

"What?" Diluc was,suddenly, feeling more awake as he heard his lover's name in that moment. "What about [name]?

"Well... Miss [name] said that we should let you sleep, because you worked a lot these days and you are tired. If I remember well, she said that while she was eating breakfast a few hours ago."

'She ate breakfast at home? That doesn't happen very often. Usually, she would take her breakfast and pack it, to eat it later at work. Unless...she took today off.'

"I'm not hungry. I will eat later." Diluc said as he began rushing back to the bedroom. Before entering the room, Diluc asked Adelinde where you were.

"Miss [name] left the winery an hour ago, after she watered the vines from the front yard. We told her that she didn't need to, but she insisted on helping us. " Adelinde said as she watched Diluc stop in his tracks with his hand on the door's handle. He stopped paying attention after the first 8 words she has spoken.

His heart stopped beating for a second.

"What did you say, Adelinde?" asked the redhead, without turning to face her, almost breaking the door's handle at how much pressure he was applying to it.

"She watered the vines?"

"No, not this, the first part." Diluc was feeling very anxious.

"Miss [name] told us she wanted to go buy some books from With Wind Comes Glory¹. She assured us that she would be back by dinner, but I personally think it will takea bit longer since she went by foot. But, Master Diluc, is there something wrong? You seem stressed. " the head maid asked with concern.

"I'm fine, Adelinde. I just remembered there was something urgent that I have to do today." Diluc quickly replied.

After hearing the explanation, Diluc instantly relaxed. For a moment, he thought you left the winery, and him, for good. But it seems that it wasn't the case. After all, your belongings were still in their places around the house.

He thanked Adelinde and went to change from his nightwear. After he was done, he looked at his nightstand. Your letter was on it, because he read it at least 10 times more before he went to sleep.

Diluc knew that he can't just simply buy an expensive gift to apologize, you weren't that type of person, so instead an idea came to his mind. What if he writes you a letter as well? And so, he went into his office, took out his quill, ink, and some paper and started writing.

...

"Miss [name], welcome home!" saluted Hillie and Moco as you entered the winery.

"Hi girls! The outside of the manor looks great. Thank you for your hard work today!" You said as you were heading for the stairs. Even thought you like walking around, it was quite exhausting to go to and to return from the city by foot. You wanted nothing more than to take a shower and go to sleep.

"Miss [name], wait a moment!" Moco came after you.

"Yes? "

"Master Diluc was searching for you this afternoon. I think he is in his office right now. He seemed to have something urgent to tell you, at least that's what we heard from Adelinde."

'Something urgent, huh?' You thought. 'The last thing he should say to me is that we should break up, and then he would have said all there is to say, but I should not think like that. Even if I am upset, I certainly don't want anything like that happening.'

"Thank you for telling me." You told the girl as you changed your direction from upstairs to Diluc's office.

...

[ Knock knock]

"Come in."

You slowly entered the room. Diluc didn't notice you as he looked absorbed in the document he was reading.

"I heard you were looking for me."

Diluc looked up while you were staring at him blankly. You two sat in silence for a bit.

It was becoming suffocating.

Why was he silently staring at you? Is he expecting YOU to apologize for the things that HE said?

"If I am being wrong, and you were not looking for me, then I am sorry for interupting your work." You told him as you were about to turn and leave the room.

"[Name] , wait! " he pleaded right before getting up from his seat and coming near you. Diluc gently took your hand in his. "I-..uh.. I wrote you a letter." You looked at him with confusion. "And I want to read it for you." He continued, as he gestured to the couch in the middle of the room. You nodded and started walking towards it with Diluc trailing behind you. Before sitting, he approached his desk to pick up the "document" he was reading when you came in. He was still holding your hand. He didn't let go. Almost like...he was afraid to let go of it.

"Here I go" he said swallowing hard.

"Dear [name],

I have a lot of things to tell you, and because I am afraid I will forget them, I wrote them down and I am going to read them to you right now.

1. I want to wish you a happy 6th month anniversary. Words can't express how sorry I am that I forgot it was yesterday. But I tend to believe that, after you hear my explanation for it, you will understand why I forgot in the first place. Since we started going out 6 months ago, you've made me so happy that I feel like celebrating our relationship everyday. Even if I don't always express how happy I am to be together with you, that's what I feel like. It's up to you, if you want to believe me or not.

2. You shouldn't thank me for choosing you. It's quite the opposite, acually. You think I don't notice the guys from Mondstadt, looking at you while we go for walks around the city? Don't even get me started on the Knights that come to the tavern, some of them that I caught staring at you a few times while you happened to be there as well. There are a lot of guys who can spend more time with you or give you more affection than I do, and considering all that, you still chose me. And I will be forever grateful for that.

Since you told me in your letter about little trinkets you got from me, I think it's only fair that I should mention I also kept those I recieved from you. Remember what we used to do, when we first met? We used to write random things to each other, on tissues from the tavern, and pass them back and forth, while I was busy, serving the customers. I even kept those that I would say I threw away since they broke because we kept pushing the quill into them too much. I put them in a box, in the first drawer of my desk. I was afraid that, if I put them into the nightstand in the bedroom, you would find them. Even thought, I see how stupid that sounds as I am writing this. My point is, you're not the only one who holds dear all of these stuff, I do too.

3. I am the one that should apologize and be sorry for a lot of things. I'll start with one of the biggest, if not already the biggest stupid mistake I have ever done. That being, accusing you of cheating on me. To be honest, I always knew that it wasn't the case. I always knew, you would never do something like that. The truth is...I have been scared. Scared that you finally realised that I am no good and that you were about to leave me. A part of me even though you would be better off with someone else. Someone who would treat you the way you deserve to be treated.

I am sorry for saying such mean things to you, my love. I never meant to hurt you. I am also sorry because I don't spend that much time with you, that I don't give you all the love you deserve and that I don't tell you that often, how much I love you. I am sorry for all of the things I should do but I don't .

And last but not least, the 4th thing.

I love you. And not just as simple as that. I love you so much that sometimes, when I look at you, my heart is about to burst. If one morning you say "I love you" to me before I leave home, I will think about it almost until I come back home in the evening. You are always on my mind. And as soon as I leave home, I can't wait to come back and embrace you into a hug.

I really mean it. All of it. I love you, [name]. I promise, from the bottom of my heart, that I will try my hardest to become a man worthy of your love.

Yours forever, Diluc. "

Diluc took his eyes off the piece of paper as he heard a sob coming from you.

"You are wrong." you whispered as tears started to fall on your cheeks.

"What?" Diluc didn't hear you that well.

" I said that you are wrong." You complained and started staring right into Diluc's red eyes."You think I don't see it? Every hand squeeze you give me while we are walking around, every hug from behind you give me while I cook dinner. And don't think I don't know about those early morning kisses, on my forehead. Those little kisses are the thing I look forward the most, in the morning, well, that, and seeing you being by my side. I see it all the time. You might not tell me directly that you love me, but you show me in so many ways, I would be blind if I didn't notice. And about the thing from yesterday...I know you didn't mean it, I truly do, and I forgive you. So let's forget what happened yesterday. Okay?"

Diluc let the letter fall from his hand. He bended closer to wipe your tears. You leaned into his touch.

"Okay." He accepted with a little smile.

You both leaned in and kissed. A kiss that felt so honest and perfect, reminding you of your first kiss with Diluc, on a starry night, on the tavern's balcony, 6 months ago.

Taglist* : @venti-lation @reeaowo

A/N : ¹ = With Wind Comes Glory is the name of the souvenir shop that belongs to Marjorie in Mondstadt.

I hoped you liked it!

#diluc x reader #genshin diluc #genshin x y/n #genshin impact #diluc x you #diluc angst #diluc x y/n #diluc #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr #cam3lliaw-writes

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no-droids · 4 years

Text

Whenever You Want

Part Fourteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.2K

Warnings: Listen there is some dirty smut in this one yall okay like I was blushing when I wrote it, it has a very stark beginning and theres a pagebreak afterwards if you would prefer to skip over it. Smut includes oral sex (female receiving) rough sex, sensory deprivation, butt stuff (ass to mouth, anal fingering/penetration) so PLEASE LOOK OUT FOR IT PLEASE. Also there is jealous/possessive mando in this, season 1 Karga makes another appearance, and some angst/fluff towards the end

A/N: Nothing much today yoditos just love you all

***

Din said he’d meet you here.

You’re currently sitting across from Greef Karga in a cantina on Nevarro, a closed shield next to you and a blaster tucked into the back of your waistband, hidden underneath your shirt. You’re barely even looking at him, though—your eyes are attached to the door by an invisible string, forcing your gaze back to it no matter how much it bounces around the room.

You don’t know where Din is, you haven’t seen him in hours. But you do know that when he left, he was moving slower than you’re used to. You don’t think anyone else would notice, but you sure did. Not that he was obvious about it—you only picked up on very subtle hints. Leaning up against things just a bit more than he usually does. Taking slightly longer exiting the ramp of the Crest than his normal strides would carry him.

He didn’t say what he was going to do—just that he needed to find someone before meeting with Karga, and you accepted it. But truthfully, you didn’t want to. You were worried about him—still are, actually. But for all intents and purposes, he was speaking and acting like himself, showing no real signs of exhaustion other than the smallest instances you described before, so you didn’t really have a leg to stand on. He’s been through way worse, and you know it. You just… find yourself worrying about him so much more than you used to, and you need to learn how to gain some control over that part of you.

The kid was still passed out from healing him and you remember Din carefully setting four pucks down in the sleeping baby’s sphere and giving his ears a gentle rub between leather fingers. He turned back to you and told you to meet him at the cantina in three hours, but if it ended up taking him too long for any reason, to try your best to see if Karga will let you exchange on his behalf.

Admittedly, he didn’t sound too confident about it—the instructions were delivered with a tone that implied a doubtful, just-in-case scenario he wasn’t foreseeing happening. Or maybe he just doubted the likelihood of Karga agreeing to do business with you, you’re not entirely sure. All you know is that when he left, you were almost certain he wouldn’t be late, but you also took the time to grab the smallest blaster from his armory before heading out just in case.

Yet—here you are, three and a half hours later, eyes flicking between the door and Karga as you attempt to keep up polite conversation. After turning down his offer of alcohol for the fifth time and still not seeing any glimpse of beskar coming to your rescue, you figure this may be as good a time as any to start the exchange.

During an extended break in the small talk, you slowly reach over to the corner of your booth and press a button on the face of the kid’s shield. It hisses open and you completely miss the way Karga’s hand raises while three of his guards automatically reach for their hips. The little green monster is still snoozing comfortably while you pull out the four glowing pucks Din left you and set them on the table one by one.

They scrape along the top of it as you slowly push them over to him, before sitting back in the booth and clearing your throat, flicking your eyes between Karga and his guards. To you, nobody appears to have moved, so you muster a polite smile at him.

Karga smiles back, but makes no move to gather or inspect the offerings in front of him.

“Um…” you say after a moment, suddenly feeling your heart start to beat a little faster. “Mando… Mando gave me permission to exchange on his behalf.”

“I believe you,” he drawls out in response, but the pucks still sit untouched in front of him as he leans back in the booth and studies you. “Mando has always had a… let’s say, a frustrating penchant for disregarding the pillars of our code. My apologies, young lady, but I’m afraid that I cannot accept these from you.”

Your voice comes out quieter than you’d like it to sound. “Why not?”

“It is… unlawful,” he answers after a moment. “Our organization operates under strict rules.”

Does it? You blink. No, it doesn’t. You’re nothing to the Guild and you’ve sat next to Din quite a few times while Karga talked, listening to him drunkenly boast about return rates and out members by name. You’re not sure why he’s barring you like this, but you’re also not self-assured enough to put practically any spine into it whatsoever. “I’m… afraid I don’t understand.”

“I cannot legally do guild business with individuals not recognized as members in an official capacity,” he sighs, sounding grave and almost apologetic about it, but you don’t know him well enough to know if he’s a good actor or not. “There’s nothing I can do for you besides provide you with my company, not until Mando decides to show.”

Well now that doesn’t make any sense, and you’re starting to worry that for some reason or another, he isn’t going to show. Though it was incredibly well concealed, you’re well aware that Din was still lingering in the final recovery stages when he left the Crest earlier and all you have to go on is his word that he’d be here. Something could’ve happened. Something could be happening right now, you need to push.

“People pick up bounties for extra credits all the time,” you mumble, still way too fucking quiet about it. Maker, you’re not even sure if he could hear that over the sound of the cantina. Speak up, speak up.

“Yes, but those quarry are listed on the New Republic’s most wanted database,” Karga acknowledges diplomatically, educating more than he is arguing, before uncorking the bottle of glowing blue alcohol in front of him and beginning to pour himself another shot. “They’re fodder. Up for grabs—names, last known locations, and biometrics published for the entire galaxy to read.” He tilts his head down at the four metal pucks on the table without removing his gaze from the gradually filling glass. “Those pucks are different, they’re commissions. Tied specifically to Guild contracts.” Karga clunks the bottle back down again and corks it, pinning you with a stare. “For all I know, you could’ve murdered a member of our ranks and come to collect payment for his bounties. Can’t have that.”

Your blood suddenly turns to ice at the implication, eyes wide and your heartbeat rocketing as you look from Karga to the three guards casually stationed behind him. “You—You think I murdered Mando?”

“No,” he says, easily and in the very same breath, before throwing the shot back and wiping his mouth with a grimace. “Not sure I’d care too much if you did. It’s not my rule, but I am required to follow it or risk losing my position in the Guild.”

Shit. Shit. What do you do?

You’re blank, left quiet and feeling increasingly unsure of how to proceed. Karga, however, seems completely unbothered and even appears to be enjoying himself and your company. He gives you another smile, this one a lot friendlier and more genuine than the one earlier, before setting his elbows on the table and leaning forward.

“Look, I want to help you,” he admits, keeping his tone light, “but my hands are tied. Just relax and share a drink with me until he gets here, it’s not a problem.”

Fuck, you don’t like this, and a quick look around brings another reminder of Din’s continued absence. Your chest feels tight, the anxiety starting to compound and make you jumpy. It’s been too long—it’s been at least forty minutes or so of waiting by now and something just feels wrong about this. Not having him next to you feels wrong enough on its own, but when he specifically told you he’d be here?

You clench your jaw and try to work up your nerve. Karga is a nice guy, right? He knows you by name, he knows who you are to Mando. And while you never really thought about the bounty hunter’s omnipresent protection as being anything other than metaphorical, you suddenly realize that… it might be literal, too. How much sway do you actually have here, you wonder? You’re not stupid, you’re not going to try anything stupid, but maybe just another question won’t hurt?

“Well, um… how do you become a member, then?” You ask him, and you watch as he leans back in the booth, raising both eyebrows at you.

“Excuse me?” He asks, though there’s a genuine amusement in his voice. Stunned that you’d even say the words aloud.

“I have four bodies,” you tell him shortly. You’re still quiet about it, but his thoroughly entertained astonishment is beginning to rub you the wrong way. You don’t want to be part of the Guild, you don’t want to be here, you’re doing this out of growing necessity. “One of which I dragged through a blizzard on Hoth by its ankles and put into carbonite myself, so please just tell me what I have to do to get you to take them.”

“I can’t,” he repeats, shaking his head like you’re just not getting it. “New members are only accepted if they bring in an S-level criminal from the database or if they complete a commission that was granted to them by someone of my station—neither of which apply to you. If you cannot present me with any sort of reasonable argument for which they could, then I’m afraid this is not a favor I can swing.”

“I was sitting right here,” you return, suddenly finding your voice. If Karga wants an argument from you to get this to happen, then you’ll do it. You just need to finish this exchange, go back to the Crest, and scan around for Din’s signal. “When you first gave the pucks to Mando, I sat right here and you pushed them over to this side of the table—I was present for the commission and now I’m here to complete it.”

He shakes his head. “But I didn’t give them to you, I gave them to Mando—”

“Yes, but you only wanted to give him three,” you immediately point out. “The last one, the one I told you I put into carbonite—you said you threw it in because you liked me, it could’ve been for me.”

Karga suddenly stops and blinks at you for a few seconds, and you bite your lip, wondering if the logic will hold. It’s flimsy as fuck and you know he could very easily rip it apart if he wanted to. It could’ve been for you but it wasn’t, he gave it to Mando. You also purposefully leave out the fact that you’re also the reason Mando only gave him three bodies in the first place; your only goal here is to complete this transaction as quickly as possible and leave. You don’t like the fact that it’s taking Din so long, and you also don’t like the fact that Karga seems so keen on keeping you here with him, no matter how many reassurances he provides. He said he wants to help you? This can be his chance to prove it.

After a few extended moments of consideration, Karga finally shrugs like he really couldn’t care less before reaching across the table for the pucks and beginning to stack them in his palm.

“What is your last name?” He asks, turning behind him to gesture for one of his men with a jerk of his head. The bodyguard exits the cantina without another word and your eyes flick back to Karga’s.

“Why does it matter?” You ask uncertainly, watching another guard approach with a holopad as he shrugs once more.

“It doesn’t, but we need something for our records,” Karga explains, grabbing the device as it’s tapped against his shoulder without removing his gaze from yours. “I can just use Doe if you don’t feel like sharing—most of our members tend to prefer anonymity, including your companion.”

Your eyebrows furrow even as your heart continues to pound, wondering how they can afford to be so lax about some things but take others so seriously. “You have him down as John Doe?”

“First name Man,” Karga grunts in response, finally breaking eye contact to begin navigating through pages on the holopad.

“Ah,” you say shortly, knowing you’d probably find the joke funny in other circumstances. You’re not out of the trenches yet, you still feel the worry tugging hard at your chest.

“Very well,” Karga announces with a sigh, pocketing the pucks in his leather overcoat and then handing the holopad back to one of the men flanking him after a moment. “Someone is collecting the carbonite plaques from your vessel as we speak.”

You give him a nod, taking a deep breath that you hope is slow and subtle enough to not give your anxiety away. He helped you out, you’re halfway through this. Now comes the exchange. Now it’s his turn to give you the credits and four more pucks, that’s how this should go.

Only, Karga leans back in his seat and cocks his head at you. “Unfortunately, I believe we have found ourselves in the midst of yet another predicament.”

Your heart continues to slam, praying you haven’t somehow majorly fucked things up by getting this far. Din still isn’t here, why is he so fucking late? He nearly froze to death and you handled a dead body just to make this meeting on time, where the fuck is he?

You raise an eyebrow at him, willing the building panic not to show on your face. “Have we?”

“You’re lucky credits are attached to commissions instead of rank within the Guild,” he prefaces, pulling out a large handful of them to begin counting, and your eyes flick around the cantina while you know he isn’t looking, “or else you’d be getting about half of what I’d normally give him.”

Heart galloping when you still don’t see any sign of him, you just decide to keep extra quiet as you watch Karga divvy out a sizable stack of credits, hoping your prolonged silence will protect you somehow.

“The question now becomes…” he lifts an eyebrow at you while sliding them across the table to you, “how many pucks do I give you in return, hm?”

Fuck, you don’t like this, you’re trying to make it crystal fucking clear that your intentions do not extend beyond the perimeter of this table. There’s no you to be found in this deal, you’re just an emergency proxy in Din’s absence and you only inserted yourself in the situation to accomplish that task. “I told you I’m only here to exchange on Mando’s behalf, that’s it.”

“Be that as it may…” Karga glances around the cantina like he’s thinking extra hard about it. This is a made-up problem, you both know there’s no predicament here. He knows you didn’t kill Mando, he knows there’s no real reason to be giving you such a hard time about this, and you clench your jaw as he still seems to take his time considering it. “Tell you what, young lady,” he finally turns back to you. “Do me the honor of sharing one sip of this fine spotchka with me and I’ll give you four pucks to pass along to Mando.”

Okay. Okay, you can do that, if he really cares that much. Karga gestures for the closest droid to come by with a glass for you, but you just grab the bottle in front of him and uncork it without thinking too much, balancing the glowing blue liquid with two hands and diligently taking a small sip of it before setting it down again. Appearing satisfied with your demonstration of upholding your end of the bargain, Karga grins and reaches into another pocket.

“Four for Mando,” he pushes four pucks across the table, “same rate and return as last time, as promised.” You nearly deflate in relief as you quickly gather them up and begin dropping them into the snoozing baby’s shield along with the credits, but then Karga reaches back and pulls out another puck, pushing it over to you. “And one for you.”

You blink at him, frozen in place.

“Lowest level, lowest pay. Not even a criminal by New Republic standards, just a missing person,” he goes on to say, but then quite suddenly…

Quite suddenly you’re absolutely fucking horrified.

You don’t want it. Everything inside you surges up to scream that you do not want that puck. It’s a waste of time, even if it’s an extra job—it’s too much trouble, too much fuel for such a small reward. You already know good and well that Din won’t want to bother, getting this extra puck would be considered a detriment to him.

“What if I don’t want it?” You ask, sounding nervous and vaguely out of breath as you look down at it.

Karga scoffs. “Of course you don’t. Nobody wants these, why do you think I’m trying so hard to pawn one off on you?”

Shit. This is not at all how you expected any of this would go. You know he’s not really asking, even if his tone and continued courtesy implies it’s only a request. There’s an expectation attached to this, and it appears you take too long pondering an offer that isn’t actually voluntary. Karga stares at you and your clear apprehension for just a few seconds more, before finally giving you an ultimatum. “You said you’re here on his behalf. You either take all five pucks now or Mando only gets three next time, your choice.”

Oh. Oh, no. This is a lose-lose; three pucks means more fuel and less credits, five pucks means more fuel and less credits. It’s not like you have any real bargaining power here—almost everything he’s done for you today has been a favor of some sort and you’re well aware that things can always get worse.

Still, you take a deep breath and try your best to throw around whatever weight you have left in one final agreement.

“Give me your word you’ll go back to giving him four from now on, no more hassling or hard time constraints and we’ll take it just this once,” you tell him, trying to conjure and put power behind your words even though you’re unsure if they’ll stick.

“Deal,” Karga readily agrees with a smile, reaching his hand across the table. You have no choice but to meet him in the middle and clasp it, unable to feel anywhere close to good about your performance here. It was clunky and insecure and even though you just barely succeeded in making the exchange overall, you’re massively disappointed in the specifics.

But then Karga’s eyes quickly flick over your shoulder.

“Ah, Mando!” He suddenly calls out, and your hand nearly snatches away from his while your body goes rigid.

Oh, this isn’t good, this is not good. Well, it’s good that he’s here but it also really fucking isn’t. You don’t even turn your head; you sit completely straight and still while the cantina falls to a hush and heavy footsteps begin to approach behind you. You fucked up—you fucked up, you didn’t wait long enough and you feel the sharp regret instantly twist in your stomach. He said he’d be here, why didn’t you trust him? Your anxiety and stress compounded and spurned you to act too quickly, you made the deal a few fucking seconds before he showed up.

And, as Din eventually comes into your peripheral, taking his time leaning his rifle up against the table, you immediately realize that you should not have worried. Recovery isn’t even a word in his vocabulary right now—he’s more intimidating than he’s ever been, more powerful and certain and dangerous while he lowers himself into the seat next to you than he’s ever felt to you before. Everything is so quiet now that he’s here; you feel like even just swallowing against the sudden dryness in your throat turns into an audible gulp. The man sitting across from you may own this cantina and every material good under its roof, but the one sitting by your side feels like he steals the literal air from the room just by walking inside it.

Yet, in spite of the daunting presence of the Mandalorian, Karga beams and tips his glass at him. “I believe you’ve arrived just in time for your favorite part of the conversation, friend. The farewells.”

You stare wide-eyed down at the table as Din leans back into the booth and very slowly extends his arm behind your shoulders, saying nothing at all to him.

The testosterone is radiating from him to the point of near suffocation, you can taste the alpha in the air. Your heart slams in your chest at the unspoken claim he just made with a subtle movement, and though you’ve never been one for masculine displays, this one weirdly feels… good right now. You know it’s primitive and crude and you’re not a piece of meat to be fought over, but it doesn’t feel like that at all. It’s the immediate feeling of security that serves to heat your cheeks, the fact that you’ve been a nervous mess trying to be extra brave this whole interaction and then suddenly you have the backup of an entire army contained within one single suit of armor next to you.

If you weren’t internally panicking at how badly you screwed this shit up, you’d probably be going fucking feral for him right now.

Karga says your name and your gaze snaps to his, feeling like you can’t breathe. “My associate has collected the plaques, nothing keeps you here any longer. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

Still, nobody at the table moves.

After a moment, you carefully glance up and to the side at the sharp, metallic profile of his helmet. Maker, you can’t explain it—it’s like you feel terrified but not really for yourself, if that makes sense. You’re upset with yourself for not having enough trust in his word, absolutely, but something in Din’s demeanor tells you that he’s going to be considerably less understanding of how Karga handled this situation than the way you did.

The helmet slowly turns down to look at you, and you bite your lip while carefully placing your hand on his thigh brace under the table, letting him feel your fingers brush against the bend of his knee.

He turns back to Karga after a few seconds, still not saying a single word, until eventually Din’s arm is lifted from behind your shoulders and you feel his leather fingers gently clasp your hand, before he starts to rise from the booth and pull you along next to him. You both stand, and he silently presses a button on his vambrace without dropping your grip, urging the kid’s shield to follow along behind him.

“Um, goodbye,” you just barely remember to tell Karga as Din begins leading you away, apparently not waiting for the polite farewells he arrived in time for.

“Wait!” A voice calls out just before you can make your exit, and Din pauses just in time for Karga to extend that damned fifth puck out for you to grab. Right in fucking front of him. “Can’t forget this!”

Fuck. Great. Thanks.

Blood rushes to your face while you go to reach for it, taking the puck and then placing it in the open shield along with four others in a way that you hope is casual but you know isn’t. You close the lid on it and then squeeze Din’s hand slightly, but he stays rooted to the spot for a few more seconds, having watched the entire exchange play out. Though you obviously wouldn’t be able to read his facial expressions even if you could lift your head to look up at him, you can’t will yourself to do so right now. You’re too disappointed in yourself and nervous—you just stand there silently as he looks back at Karga, staring at your feet and praying he doesn’t do anything brash.

After too many moments of uncertainty, you squeeze his hand again and slowly begin to pull on it. Without needing much pressure at all, he goes where you go, and you end up being the one to lead Din out of the cantina by the hand still tangled with yours.

***

The walk back to the Crest lasts an eternity.

Neither one of you say anything at all to each other the entire way there, and you know he’s not mad at you yet, but you’re worried. You feel incredibly self-critical right now and it’s really not helping that he seems even quieter and more wound up than usual. You don’t know if it’s because he already figured out that you just handed him extra work or if it’s because whatever made him late to the cantina also altered his mood, hit a reset button and reminded him of the way he used to be, the armor he’s wearing. Was there a confrontation, you wonder? Is he okay? He seems like he’s… extra Mandalorian right now, there’s not really a better way to describe it.

He doesn’t drop your hand, though. As you pass through the markets and shanty huts lining the streets, Din holds onto you. Shoulders tense and strides heavy, but his fingers stay tangled in yours.

Regardless, you keep your mouth shut and eventually the Crest comes into view. The ramp drops to the ground and the three of you make your way up, and you have enough foresight to carefully drop Din’s hand and lead the baby’s shield over to the unused cot built into the hull walls, closing him in a safe quiet place to sleep and continue building up his strength again.

You turn around to see Din press another button on his vambrace. He stays with his back to you as the ramp slowly closes, but as soon as it latches up against the hull and locks into place, he nearly whips around and suddenly he’s right in front of you, gloves cupping your face.

“What happened?” He asks sharply, the helmet looking you up and down. “Are you alright? Why did you look so scared?”

You reach up to rest your hands on his, blinking up at him and not knowing what to say. How are you going to tell him? He’s gotta waste extra fuel and time on a bullshit quarry because of you, what are you going to say? You don’t even know if it’s last known location is nearby; he might have to fly to some remote, desolate corner of the galaxy just for a handful of credits because you couldn’t wait a fucking hour for him.

“I, uh… I-I’m sorry, I just…” But it’s nearly impossible to form a coherent thought when he’s this close to you and sounding fucking sincere, genuinely concerned about you while you’re stuck worrying about how to break the bad news to him. “Oh, stars, um…”

“Did Karga fuck with you?” He asks in that same sharp tone when you don’t finish your thought, but you’re so absorbed in your own conflict that you barely even hear him. “Because I can go back right now, the cantina is just—”

“Okay wait, please—” You suddenly speak up, “before I tell you, just… please keep in mind that I did save your life two days ago, so…”

“Sweet girl,” Din rumbles slowly, a subtle warning for you to hurry up and spit it out. His fingers tighten just slightly on your cheeks, still so gentle but needing you to communicate with him right now.

Tell him, you just need to tell him. If he gets mad, then he gets mad, but at least he’ll know at that point and you won’t just be springing it on him out of nowhere.

“I fucked up,” you breathe out, eyebrows pulling up in the middle as you tighten your own grip on his hands. “I’m so sorry, I fucked up and you were late and I got nervous and I didn’t wait long enough and I tried to make the exchange like you asked me to but then I had to take a fifth puck and I didn’t want to but Karga threatened to short change you next time around unless I agreed to take an extra one for the lowest pay just this once and I didn’t have any bargaining power and you showed up right after I agreed to the deal and I’m so so sorry—”

You cut yourself off with your own ragged gasp, not having paused once to breathe throughout the entire thing while your expression twisted up with regret more and more the longer he allowed you to speak.

Din stands there in front of you and doesn’t move, hands still attached to your face.

“Okay,” he eventually tells you. Stunted words, like he’s trying extra hard to find them when yours just fell out of your mouth in a complete mess. “It’s okay. You did… good.”

The silence is tense and you’re becoming more and more anxious the longer he takes to speak. He’s lying for your benefit, he must be. When he drops his hands from your face and takes a full step back, you take the gesture as symbolic and nearly launch into panic.

“Maker, I’m so sorry I didn’t wait for—” You start to say, but Din cuts you off.

“Did he make you…” His back suddenly goes a little straighter, voice finding a quiet edge through the modulator as his fingers subtly twitch at his sides, “…Uncomfortable?”

You pull back at the sudden change in subject and furrow your eyebrows.

“Who, Karga?” You have to think about it. Did he make you uncomfortable, or were you just uncomfortable already? You might’ve just been scared because you were making it scarier than it really was, you can admit that’s a valid possibility. “Um… no? I don’t know, not… not really, I don’t think.”

“No?” He asks, taking a small step forward. “You don’t know? Or not really… you don’t think?”

You know you can only see the blade of his visor, but something makes you feel like you’re looking right in his eyes. You even go back and forth between where you’re pretty confident each one is, trying to read his intentions right now. It’s like he’s purposefully trying to keep space between you even though he looks like he wants to move closer, fisting his hands at his sides when he looks like he wants to touch you.

“No, he just… lowballed me towards the end of it and I got intimidated, but I’m also not…” Your expression narrows in concentration while you try to find the words to explain yourself, wanting to be as honest as possible with him. “I don’t know, I’m not like you. I’m not that strong, but I’m trying to get better. I think he was probably just being normal. He did offer me alcohol a bunch, but I’m pretty sure he also did that last time, so—”

“And I didn’t like it the last time he did it,” Din says quietly, taking another small step forward.

You blink up at him, completely dumb. This is what’s bothering him? Is he really not upset with you at all for giving him more work? It’s like the major fuckup on your behalf just went in one side of the helmet and out the other, he barely even acknowledged it other than the role Karga played. He said it’s okay and you did good, which are like… five of the most common words in Galactic Basic, a Wookiee could probably find a way to say them. How are you supposed to take that? Were you just overthinking this whole thing from the very beginning? You know anxiety tends to be irrational by definition, but has none of your panic from the past hour been justified whatsoever?

“Why were you so late?” You ask him, but it’s not accusatory in the slightest. It’s… concerned, worried about his well-being without having a real reason. He’s clearly more than fine right now, he’s like a hurricane enclosed in metal and holding still in front of you. Too much potential energy just waiting for a reason to be released, too much tension held tight and ready to snap.

“I’m sorry.” He quickly reaches out to grab your hand and squeeze it, before dropping it just as quickly. Fucking lightning quick, you’ll never understand how he can be so damn quick with all that extra weight strapped to him. “It took longer than I thought it would and she’s not really someone you can rush.” His response, ironically, feels very rushed, like he’s trying to address the tangent but also keep things on track, but something in the answer he gives catches your direct attention. “Did he flirt with you?”

“Who is she and what can’t be rushed?” You blurt at the same time, not even taking a split second to think about it.

Din stops short at the blunt question, staring at you in a silence that feels like it’s vaguely taken aback.

After a few moments of that… strangeness, of the two of you realizing that you’re both feeling slightly possessive over each other for absolutely no reason whatsoever, you start to feel… warm. In another weirdly stupid, primitive way. You know that letting those kinds of thoughts have their day in a relationship isn’t a good thing, but you can’t explain it. Some deep-seated, prehistoric instinct inside you just goes fucking nuts whenever he gets in either provider or protector mode. Now you understand exactly why he wanted to get you alone after you admitted to being jealous once before. You totally fucking get it, you’re right there with him right now. He hasn’t said anything, but you think he feels it, too.

“She makes things,” Din finally answers you, careful with his words and somehow managing to address your question while also sidestepping it, leaving you with only the smallest bit of information to go off of. “Did he flirt with you?”

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly. “Maybe. He could’ve just been trying to be friendly. What did she make for you?”

“She made it for you,” he responds, again not really answering the question but continuing to juggle two separate conversations for your benefit. “Did he scare you?”

“For me?” You ask, eyebrows shooting upwards. Provider, that stupid cavewoman DNA whispers to your lower body, making your voice go a little breathless. “You asked her to make something for me?”

“Did he scare you?” Din repeats sternly, grabbing your hand and giving it a firm squeeze. “Because I can go back, I swear—”

Protector, it whispers this time, and your knees nearly buckle.

“Everything is scary when I don’t know where you are,” you admit to him, knowing it’s the truth regardless of how self-deprecating it sounds. The only times you’ve ever truly been brave was because of him or the kid. Stabbing a Corellian and then immediately flying the Crest out to him afterwards, walking through a pitch black forest believing a dangerous criminal was hiding in it, dragging a dead body through snow and shoving it into carbonite, standing up for yourself and pushing a deal through when odds were stacked against you. Though it’s nothing to him, it’s nothing, it’s leaps for you. You’re slowly learning to find a backbone, and he’s the one inspiring it.

Din holds there for a moment, unmoving with his hand still clutching yours. You can’t get a read on him but you know how you feel right now. Achy. Hot. Needy. Wanting him to come closer.

“Will you do something for me?” He asks you after a prolonged silence. His voice is quiet, but… incredibly restrained. Controlled chaos—his body is rigid and he’s flexing muscles that aren’t necessary for just standing, feeling like a sprinter holding still on the starting blocks.

“Of course,” you breathe out.

Din lets go of your hand and tilts his helmet over at the corner of the hull behind you. “Go turn around and face that wall.”

You freeze, immediately recognizing the undertone in his voice. Heat ladles deep into the pit of your tummy, sends warmth pooling downwards. He wants to do this here? Right now?

“We’re—” you look around the enclosed hull, “Mando, we’re not in hyperspace, we haven’t even left the surface yet…”

He looks around too, taking a second to blankly take in his stagnant surroundings like he had absolutely fucking no idea, before turning back to you and not saying a word. Maker, everything below your waist is already stirring, twisting hot and deep inside, but you’re trying to be the voice of reason for a second.

“What if somebody hears us?” You whisper, and Din cocks his head to the other side.

“I can help you stay quiet,” he murmurs, and… fuck. You don’t know what it means, but you immediately imagine his hand held tight over your mouth while he takes some of this stress out on you and you already feel yourself wilting at the thought. Okay.

“Okay,” you breathe without needing anything else at all, before spinning around and standing exactly where he told you to. It’s just a corner near the back of the hull, nothing else here to look at besides two metal panels meeting at a right angle, but that’s admittedly what makes your heart start beating quicker. You can’t see him come up behind you but you can feel it. Slow, measured, but so restrained.

But then he stops almost immediately, before the back of your shirt is suddenly being yanked upwards and you remember at the very last second.

Din carefully grips his blaster and then eases it out of your waistband, the metal sliding warm along your skin from pressing against it for so long. You never told him you took it with you, and he’s so fucking quiet behind you. You have no idea how he’s reacting to that piece of information you originally didn’t think twice about.

“Do you like carrying my gun around?” Din’s voice murmurs soft through the modulator to you, but then the blaster is tossed uselessly to the side, skittering loudly across the floor of the hull.

“Yes,” you reply, beginning to shyly turn your head back to look at him, hoping to gauge his response.

“Don’t turn around,” he quickly interrupts you, pushing your shoulder back into position and keeping you facing the corner. You blink at the metal walls in a bit of a daze but follow instructions regardless, feeling your heart pound at the sudden display of dominance from him. He has a very valid reason for it and you don’t realize what it is until a few seconds later, but even if he didn’t and he was just telling you what to do for the fun of it… you’d still like it.

But then his helmet is carefully being lowered over your head and you shudder as your vision is replaced with a familiar black abyss. Fuck, his helmet, why does he like it so much when you wear this? Admittedly, you don’t have much time to contemplate—as soon as it’s fitted and secure, he spins you around and you have to just do your best to maintain your balance, not having any visual to help.

“Can you hear me?” Din asks, and your clothes start to be ripped off of you. Your shoulders tip sideways with how quick he is about it, feeling him pull the fabric off and hearing the soft sound it makes landing on the floor.

“Yes,” you tell him, but he doesn’t respond, continuing to strip you completely naked in the hull. Once your upper body is bare and he’s yanking your pants and underwear down your legs, you try saying it again as you step out of them, louder for him this time.

“I can’t hear you,” his voice grunts after a moment. You know he’s in front of you but you can’t really tell where, now that he’s not touching you. “Scream.”

You take a second, not having hard evidence anymore but still very well aware that you’re parked close to a marketplace on Nevarro and multiple people are nearby while you’re wearing his helmet. This is dangerous for him, and not sure if you should, but then an arm is wrapping around your back and a large leather palm rests directly over your chest. Din repeats his last word very slowly and clearly for you, waiting to feel it under his hands.

Your sternum lifts while it rises with your deep breath and then collapses as you diligently yell as loud as you can into the helmet, feeling like you might deafen yourself with the trapped sound.

“Good,” he growls, suddenly spinning you around and pushing you back into the metal paneling. “I can’t hear you, be as loud as you need. Hit me or something, put up a fight if you want me to stop, alright?”

Arousal rockets through you and you let out a moan already, taking advantage of the noise suppression and beyond turned on at this point. You feel like you’re buzzing with it, lit up with excitement and wondering with bated breath what he’s planning to do to you.

“Alright?” Comes his voice from behind you once more, and you quickly jerk the heavy helmet in a nod for him. You can put up a fight and you know he’ll stop, you don’t have any problem with that and the fact that he specifically made sure to wait until he knew you understood him makes you start to pant inside the hollow beskar.

But then you feel him flick a small switch at the base of the helmet and then everything abruptly cuts out and goes dead silent.

Nothing. Nothing. You’re standing in a pitch black room where no other sound exists besides your own labored breathing. Just like the waterfall on Naboo, but you can’t speak this time. Temporarily making you blind, deaf, and putting a proverbial gag over your mouth all with one powerful piece of armor.

You shudder and he kicks your legs apart before you can do much else, yanking your hips back while you just try your best to cling to the wall for stability. You don’t know what he’s going to do, you’re completely isolated in here and the only way you can even tell he dropped to his knees is the hot glide of his tongue through your pussy from behind.

Oh fuck—you arch into position as best you can while hands wrap around your ankles to pull them apart, trying to make the angle better. His tongue licks softly over your clit and each time is like an electric shock jolting through your body, making you twitch back and up for him, stretching and begging him to do it again. You can’t see anything right now so your mind readily imagines the visuals instead, providing you with a third party view. Din, fully clothed and face shielded by your thighs, eating you out from behind while you brace yourself against the wall, completely naked and at his mercy, head tilted down from the weight of his helmet and living for the moments he decides to drag his tongue across your clit.

Without warning, a sudden burst of sensation ripples along your backside and causes you to lift the beskar in surprise, but without being able to hear anything, it takes you a second to figure out that he just smacked your ass. The realization comes more or less at the exact time he decides to flatten his tongue and follow the curve of you back and up.

You gasp into the pitch black and there’s a moment where you just hold utterly still for him, experiencing and processing the sensation for the very first time. His mouth is soft and warm as he tastes you here, his fingers digging into the swell of your cheeks to spread you open. You’re glad your face is hidden so he can’t see the shock in your expression, the way your mouth drops and your eyes close as you let him explore you this way.

His gloved hands leave you for just a moment while he continues gliding his tongue against you, along every single bit of skin he can reach, and then you feel a bare hand reach up between your legs and begin to rub slow circles around your clit. His other arm pushes against your lower back and you’re forced into the corner even more, your naked breasts pressing hard against cool metal and feeling his hot mouth and strong fingers work you closer to the edge from behind.

You’re panting into the helmet, your hips arching back to feel that stimulation on your clit better, and as his fingers move over it slow and strong, you feel a soft vibration against your skin and you realize he’s moaning into you. The knowledge sparks a different kind of heat through you and makes you suddenly go still and tense right here. If he stays just like this for even just a few more seconds, you’re going to cum.

“Din, I’m gonna cum,” your voice warbles inside the enclosed steel—just as his touch decides to abandon your body. You groan loudly in distress, completely alone without his hands or mouth on you anymore, but all he likely hears is the silence of the hull and the way your palm smacks against the wall with it. You were so close, everything feels like it’s pulled up so tight and painful and it hurts—

A hand clutches your hip and then a thick cock is suddenly pushing up against your soaking wet entrance, going to alleviate that twisting discomfort. Your eyes roll back and your whole body goes limp as he slowly eases forward and breaks you open, fitting himself deep inside where you love to feel him most. Your hands claw down the walls with a swell of bliss as he pulls out and then starts thrusting—and fuck, you love this. You love the way he’s trapping you up against the corner and making you see stars at the same time, the way he’s supporting your weight but crushing down into you, too. It makes you go boneless and want to riot simultaneously, groaning loud into the quiet abyss as he gives you what you both desperately needed.

One of his hands sinks down between your legs to play with your clit again, while a slick finger presses up against your ass and you gasp as he slowly penetrates you there, too. Din’s hips work steady and powerful behind you, pushing you into the wall with every desperate thrust, using the arm shoved between your legs to support you as well as stimulate, and you just feel yourself move into a different place. You don’t have a name for it but it feels like hyperspace. Silence so loud it feels suppressing, faster than anything light can touch, nowhere and everywhere, hurtling towards something you can’t see but know lies in the distance. You can tell he’s still fucking the tension out of his body, you can feel him working another wet finger inside you and stretching the virgin muscles back there, but every sensation begins to slowly blur together in a wicked uprising of ecstasy.

You don’t know where you are anymore, just that his fingers keep rubbing your clit and you think he's trying to ease a third into you when your destination abruptly arrives.

You nearly collapse when you cum, contracting so hard around his cock and fingers that you cry out unexpectedly—and because of the helmet, you think it’s just as unexpected for him. He stops moving—everything stops moving besides you. Your hips stutter backwards into his stationary body, dragging your clit back and forth against the tips of his unmoving fingers and fucking him as best you can. It shatters white hot and goes straight through to your soul, wringing pleasure and wetness between your legs in waves.

Your knees are knocking against each other when Din pulls out, his cock still deliciously hard and now soaking wet with your cum, and then they just suddenly decide to give up without warning. You don’t fall necessarily, but you do slowly slide down the wall like a slug and Din follows you to the floor instead of holding you up any longer. His sternum moves quick and heavy against your back as he breathes and then suddenly the same switch at the base of his helmet is flicked, and sound bursts into existence all at once.

He’s panting. Harsh breaths behind you that match the rapid pace of his chest, and the ambient noise of the rest of the hull.

“Can you hear me?” He gasps, sounding fucking wrecked, and you nod the helmet against the wall while gravity and exhaustion and his beskar chestplate squishes you into it. “P-Put up a fight if you want me t-to stop, p-please—” he rasps out, almost the entire thing air and so close to cumming, and then his knees lift just slightly and the blunt head of his cock presses against your other entrance.

And, if you wanted, you absolutely could. He’s got you boxed into the corner but he’s not constricting your movements, he’s given you every ability to struggle. You could easily throw an elbow back against his side, push against the wall to shove him away, smack at his arms or even just flail against his body in panic—you could do one or all of those things to signal him to stop and you know he’d do it immediately, he’s asking you to. You could struggle. If you wanted.

Instead, you just grab hold of the beskar strapped to his thigh and drop the helmet to your chest, nearly vibrating with the thrill and preparing yourself for it. You know he’s gotta be inches away from orgasm, you know from the tone of his voice that he’s right there on the edge and it’s not like it’s going to last a long time. Thanks to him, you also feel like you’re just as slick and wet back there as you are between your legs, stretched open by his fingers while you came all over him. You want nothing more than to give this to him, to let him be the only person in the universe that knows how you feel this way.

When you pointedly do not put up a fight and even go so far as to arch your lower back for him in presentation, Din curses and his fingers begin jerking back and forth over your sensitive clit once more. It might normally be too much for you, but your body is sparking with lust and quickly acclimates to the stimulation, learning to burn and ache for it, too. Fuck, it feels so good, you tense and melt into it at the same time, letting him ease you back up to that peak once more.

He pushes up against the tight ring of skin and you can’t fucking explain it—his fingers keep rubbing your clit and he’s slowly pushing into your ass and—

“I—I think I’m—” you suddenly lift the helmet to gasp out in surprise, forgetting he can’t hear you, “ngh—D-Din, I think I’m gonna c—”

He’s just barely able to breach the tight entrance and fit the head inside before he freezes—and even though everything happens consecutively, it’s all so rapid that it feels simultaneous.

Your hips could go forward, but they don’t. Your body decides to send you backwards into him, pushing him inside nearly halfway all at once as your muscles lock down and just fucking strangle his cock. Your piercing scream gets trapped in the silence of his helmet as you cum once more—painfully, madly and with every fucking part of you for him. There’s maybe one or two mind shattering pulses of ecstasy before the rest of your body catches up and starts convulsing, and by then Din is already gasping and fumbling behind you, suddenly realizing what’s happening without hearing the sound of your ragged warnings and then ripping himself away just in time.

He punches out your name when he cums like you just fucking snapped him in half—his body hunches and the beskar digs hard into your back as warmth starts splattering along your skin. You crumple while he shoves his hips up against your spine, riding and working the orgasm out of himself while yours just fucking obliterates you. You think you whine his name—or a curse word or something, but it gets strained and your lungs lose air every time his powerful armored body humps you into the wall of his ship.

Finally he eases up and you just lay there and listen to the ringing in your ears. Blissfully empty, still pulsing from cumming so hard and feeling like your bones just decided to stop existing and the rest of you was okay with it since you were already on the floor anyways. You feel him shudder and twitch behind you, letting go of that last bit of tension until he too allows gravity to slouch his heavy torso over onto you.

You both stay like that for a while, until your eyes close and your everything below your waist goes numb. Eventually you feel him shift and your head bobbles as the helmet is slowly removed, but a large palm cradles your chin to stop your face from slamming into the wall in exhaustion once it’s off. You just continue to melt into the paneling like you’re nothing more than goo of a human being while he trades it back to its rightful place on his shoulders and tucks his cock back into his pants, before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you both up. The floor and metal walls, once feeling like you and them were one, suddenly decide to disappear entirely as you’re hauled up into Din’s powerful arms.

He slowly carries your naked, fucked senseless body over to the fresher, and you squint your eyes open over his shoulder to see… he’s still got his rifle slung around his back while his cum is dripping down yours. Not a single thing on him is out of place and you’re, well… a mess is a word that works. Limp and doll-like, carried like your weight is practically nothing to him after years of having the densest armor known to the galaxy strapped to his body.

Setting you down is a mess, too. At some point you think he just gives up and decides to return you to your humble floor abode with a patience and care unexpected from someone who just defiled you so thoroughly. You hear the fresher door open and the faucet squeak, before he turns back around and crouches to your level.

“Stay here,” Din tells you lowly, his modulated voice coming gentle and warm through the sounds of water raining down against metal. You don’t feel his touch directly, but your hair moves away from your face. “I’ll be right back, okay—just stay here.”

Can do. Easy. He waits until you murmur a soft mhm to him before he leaves the tiny compartment, and then you soon hear his heavy footsteps ascending the ladder to the cockpit.

***

You don’t think you fall asleep, but the powering up of the Crest’s thrusters make you realize your eyes were closed. Opening them barely qualifies as a squint though; you look around to see steam slowly filling the fresher, the water already running hot and welcoming in the small room.

You know you need to shower but you’re so fucking exhausted, you feel like you can’t even move your body. You also know you can just do the same exact thing in there as you’re doing in here, you just need to muster up the energy necessary to get inside it and then fall back asleep. He set you down in the small little space outside the shower door and then got everything set up for you, you can at least stand up and take a few steps.

Unfortunately, you might pick just about the worst time possible to plant your hands on the ground and work to struggle upright on all fours like a newborn animal. The steady rise through Nevarro’s atmosphere pushes gravity down harder than you’re expecting—is he trying to fly quickly or are you just that dead-limbed?—and then of course, by the time you do manage to fight it and successfully get on two wobbly legs to hold yourself up, the subtle shift of the hyperdrive kicking in nearly knocks you back down again. You stumble and grab the walls, bracing yourself against them and looking down at your knees in exasperation. Come on, work. Move forward. Come on.

You’re glad he’s not here to witness this monstrosity, honestly. Just opening the door and taking a few steps into the fresher is a feat—while you’re not in any pain and he didn’t leave any marks on you, you just feel… steamrolled. Ran over by a truck. Only having the strength to keep your feet beneath you as you finally move under the water and close the door behind you.

Oh, but this is wonderful. This was such a good idea, he’s so fucking smart. The shower falls warm and lovely against your body, wetting your hair and immediately heating you down to your bones. You don’t move really at all—you kinda just stand there and slouch, closing your eyes against the spray and slowly breathing the mist into your lungs. It feels so nice—not really restorative even though you like that word, it would imply the water provides you with any energy whatsoever. It just feels like a comfort, a relief and sedative for your already wildly fatigued body.

You haven’t been in here for more than a minute or two when knuckles tap gently against the metal walls of the fresher, before the natural bass of Din’s unmodulated voice murmurs from somewhere beyond it. “Hey. Keep your eyes closed.”

How did he know? You figured you’d be way ahead of him. You’re standing but slumped over, wanting nothing more than to just say fuck gravity and pass out right here. The walls are too cold to lean against now that you’re all toasty from the heat and steam, so you’re just unconsciously swaying on your feet, trying to balance the precedence of sleeping versus not falling over. You don’t even comprehend the sudden flip of the light switch overhead beyond the fact that it makes it easier to snooze without being so bright behind your eyelids.

The door eventually opens at the very same time you realize you never answered him, but you just commit to the silence at this point. It’s easy, you like it. Soon you feel warm hands touch your shoulders, slowly spinning you around while you follow and hang your head, your neck not wanting to support it any longer, and then suddenly a bare chest is pressing up against you and powerful arms are wrapping around your body, and you can just lean all of your weight into him while your head rests right here on his shoulder.

He holds you without moving for a long time, keeping you just like this—your ear pressed against his skin while water rains hot and comfortable down your back. Knowing you’re facing one of the walls, you crack your heavy lids just the slightest bit and finally notice the tiny compartment is dim and shrouded—the only light source is a single one coming from somewhere in the hull beyond the partially closed doorway. It’s dark and quiet and you can barely see anything besides the metallic fresher walls and unfocused droplets chasing each other down Din’s naked skin. Just you and him, flowing water with a sheet metal backdrop.

You think you spend an eternity like that and yet you still find yourself wanting another when he finally shifts, reaching over you to grab a bar of his generic soap but making sure to use the arm whose shoulder you’re not currently resting against.

It glides slow and hypnotic down your back, dragging up over your sides and then back down the curve of your spine. He’s so sturdy and he doesn’t say a word while he does it, lathering it along your body and rubbing it into your skin. His bar of soap, not yours. They started out almost the same since you picked them up at the same vendor, but there’s just a slightly bolder and sharper scent to his that you recognize. How the bar is far larger than yours because of how often he’s gone away.

Your eyes droop and you feel the water trail over your lips, dripping down your chin and pooling the dip of his collarbone. The only other time you two shared this fresher was terrifying and he’s rewriting the memories right now, whether consciously or not. Hot water, not freezing cold. Standing upright and supporting you. Heart beating strong under your ear, taking care of you this time until you can care for yourself.

You… you just worry so much more now, it’s becoming an issue. You didn’t realize how much until you nearly lost him, and you know in your heart that he’s just going to go away again. Throw himself into more danger, tempt death as always, risk his life for mere credits while all you can provide in return is this. Skin to skin contact. Someone to hold. Someone who knows him, who knows the way he struggles between reaching out for a softness that life has always denied him and clinging to what is rough and familiar. Someone to remind him that there’s still gentle and forgiving things in this galaxy that won’t disappear when he’s gone, and that he can always come home to them, as long as he can manage to find his way back.

Something sad tugs hard at your chest. You want to tell him not to leave. Again, again—you want nothing more than to beg him to stay. You don’t have anything better to offer instead; if he asked you how it would work, how you imagine your lives would go if he wasn’t hunting quarry on a constant timetable, you’d be hard-pressed. You don’t know. But you know what you want to say, because it’s two words you shouldn’t say but always find yourself needing to say regardless.

Don’t go.

But, instead of two words, you give him three.

Instead of asking him not to leave you again… in the haze and comfort of his arms, you think you just tell him that you love him.

And… you also don’t think the water falling down on the two of you is loud enough to cover it up this time.

It’s not ideal, you know. You know. From his point of view, he just got finished releasing all sorts of pent up tension on you, overwhelming your body with the strength and power of his in a way that normal people wouldn’t take as an expression of affection. But you know him. You know that he finds it much easier to express the things he feels in a physical way, which is why there’s a bar of soap against your back right now instead of his voice in your ear, telling you all the things you’ve always wanted to hear from him in return. You know that sex is how this all began and it’s likely just the closest link between roughness and sweetness that he can really put his hands on, something that can fit him equally as well as it fits you. Love is different, it’s thrilling and scary. Even to someone like him, who lives everyday of his life surrounded by thrilling and scary things, who’s seen more bloodshed and suffering and pain than you can ever even imagine, you know that it’s scary.

Din doesn’t say anything back to your confession, and truthfully, not a single part of you was expecting him to. It wasn’t said so he could say it back. It just is. Some things don’t need explanations, they just are. You’re okay with that.

But, you eventually come to realize that he always waits until you’re just on the very edges of sleep, holding out until your blurry vision and fading consciousness can trick you into thinking you only imagined it. You won’t ever figure out if it’s purposeful or if he just needs that long to find what he wants to say.

Another soft, lilting sentence in a language you wouldn’t be able to translate, even if you could pick out a single word. It sounds so beautiful though, regardless of how mysterious and far away its meaning feels. There’s something hidden underneath. You ache to know what it is.

But you’re so tired. You just whine softly against his shoulder, not being able to transform the thoughts into sentences anymore but hoping he understands regardless. He can’t just resort to bearing his soul in Mando’a all the time now, especially when you’re always on the verge of sleep when he chooses to do so.

But at some point, his arms subtly tighten around you and the pressure is one of the only things that’s keeping you awake anymore.

“I won’t ever ask you to,” he says to you, the quietness of his baritone getting lost in the gentle spray and your looming slumber. “I’m… not allowed to ask. I can’t.”

Your expression twitches just the slightest bit against his shoulder in confusion, wondering distantly what word or sentence you must’ve missed from before that would make him make sense. Was that a translation? Or a continuation?

But then your wet hair is slowly moved away from your nape and his head tilts down, face pressing into your neck and voice lowering until it’s nothing more than a breath against your skin, nothing more than a confession that he couldn’t ever say out loud with his full chest. It’s a secret he only ever wants you to know, a truth he’s choosing to admit to even though you could ruin him with it. You have no idea how much, you won’t know for a long time just how much power he’s giving you by telling you this one very simple thing.

“But whenever you want to look,” Din finally whispers, the only version of I love you too that a Mandalorian knows. “You can.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #fanfic #reader-insert #rough day #no-droids #smut

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