#Christmas Celebrations in Foster Care

[fosteringinsc]

The Importance of Frontloading in Foster Care During the Holidays

The Importance of Frontloading in Foster Care During the Holidays. The holiday season can be a period of adjustment and emotional complexity for children in foster care. An effective strategy to ease this transition is ‘frontloading’. This approach involves preparing the child for what to expect during the holiday season, including family traditions and festivities. This preparation helps the…

[nabtime]

Better Watch Out

Danny had just started to feel like he was settling in with the Waynes. It had been... not ideal circumstances that brought him to the family in the first place, so getting used to not having to deal with all that mess was the first hurdle. The second being getting used to dealing with an entirely new- if more pleasant, mess. The Waynes, and Gotham by extension, were- to put it lightly- fucking crazy. He wasn't in Amity anymore and however much he'd thought it was the weirdest place on the planet before- he was absolutely rethinking that now. Where he had been one hero against a handful of villains, Gotham had a whole brigade of vigilantes against an army of villains. And they were... Bat-themed. For the most part. He'd yet to meet any of them, so he hadn't gotten the chance to ask what all that was about.

None of that was the point though. The point was that Danny had only recently stopped feeling like a fish out of water around his new foster family, and now the Holidays were coming. The Holidays that always served to put him in a sour mood. The Holidays that made him more prone to lash out and snap at those that didn't deserve it. The Holidays that, despite being Jewish by heritage, Bruce seemed oddly enthusiastic about celebrating.

(It reminded him, painfully, of Sam. He'd yet to be able to see here since everything went down and he missed her and Tucker something fierce. Which was maybe also putting him in a bad mood.)

So you really couldn't blame him for feeling a little tense about the whole situation. Not only were the Christmas decorations that smothered the Manor making him grouchy, but his grouchiness was also making a guilty pit form in his stomach. He was a moody teenager and adding trauma on top of that didn't help how caustic he could be- and adding fear on top of that made it all the worse. What if he saw Dick in his Santa hat, grinning and innocent, and he snapped? What if he saw Damian, stoic but loving, give Titus a shiny red bow-tie collar for the season and he made a caustic comment that went too far? What if he saw Bruce so much as smile at him while standing near the giant tree in the foyer and he saw green?

What if he ruined Christmas? Again? For people that didn't deserve it? Again? What if he hurt the people he cared about that had only ever shown him care and consideration? Again?

So Danny was just a bit tense. A bit on edge. And he was trying. Oh Ancients was he trying. To not be such a little bitch about all the Christmas stuff. But he had a limit. Bruce, being the rich socialite that seemed far too enthusiastic about family-centered holidays, did not have a limit. Every inch of the manor was covered in tinsel and holly and blinking lights and fake snow. Every spare moment was filled with different siblings being coerced into doing cheesy holiday activities, with Danny being the only one to attend every single one of them. (Cutting down a Christmas tree with Jason. Buying presents at the mall with Tim. Decorating while hanging from the chandelier with Dick. Caroling very badly with Stephanie. Making snow angels with Cass. Watching Christmas movies with Duke.) And he attended them all with a barely restrained snarl and a badly bitten tongue. The one time, one time, he'd told Bruce no- the guilt had eaten him alive (and dead) at seeing the man melt into the most pathetic kicked-puppy look he'd ever seen.

No grown man should ever be able to do that with his face. Danny never wanted to see that again.

In return, though, he had to face the Horrors.

The latest Horror being the worst he'd ever faced to date. A Horror that he thought he'd never have to face. He thought he'd slipped past this particular one by aging out. He was too old for this. He shouldn't be there. Damian, scowling and eyes filled with murderous intent, shouldn't be there. Dick and Bruce seemed to both be having the time of their lives. It was far too disturbing- and the continuous blasting of Christmas music and the overheated crush of a restless crowd only made it worse.

They were in line to see Santa at the mall.

It made his skin crawl. He was fifteen! Damian, the poor bastard, was also fifteen!

He could practically feel Ghostwriter laughing his ass off at his predicament. This was worse than getting stuck in a rhyming Christmas cautionary tale. He would 100% rather be stuck in one of Ghostwriter's cheesy poems than be stuck in the stupidly long line to see the fake mall Santa that probably didn't want to be there just as much as Danny.

But Bruce looked so fucking happy. Genuinely happy.

It was something he'd noticed early on about his foster dad. He smiled a lot and smiled big, but he rarely ever meant it. Now, Danny wasn't usually one to notice things like that. He got pretty wrapped up in his own problems and just- didn't have the skill to notice these things. Usually. But, well, being ghostly gave him a bit of an advantage. He could get a pretty good read on a person's emotions, regardless of what expression they wore. If he felt close enough to them. Frostbite had compared it to, like, family pack bonding. And he really, really didn't want to think about that further (why had it never worked for his parents? why did he feel so close to Bruce so quickly? why?) But, more importantly, he could tell that while Bruce smiled a lot, he rarely meant it.

But whenever Danny or his foster sibling begrudgingly participated in "family holiday activities" he smiled and he meant it. Bruce, fundamentally, was a sad man. Always grieving something. But here and now? In line to see his teenage children visit fucking Santa in the mall? He was smiling from ear to ear and his emotions, for once, matched. Yeah, there was a hint of mischief there, but it was overwhelmed by the giddy joy and excitement.

A suspicious amount of excitement... Like he was expecting something.

And then Bruce was leaning down between him and Damian and with a bright grin, he muttered, "I have a surprise for the both of you."

And even Dick, who had not stopped taking a stupid amount of pictures the entire time, paused to look at Bruce curiously.

"As I've told you both before," he said, looking over at Dick and back to Damian, "I know the real Santa. Met him a few times, saved Christmas with him a few others, and he owed me a favor for the last misadventure we had. So, I asked him to be here, for this one afternoon, for you guys."

Danny barely caught a glimpse of Dick rolling his eyes in the background. Oh, okay, so this was bullshit that has long been established. Nothing new on his account. That was something at least.

"Father," Damian interrupted with scorn and a promise of violence in his voice, "you are aware that this- Santa Claus creature- is fictitious, are you not?"

"Damian, chum," Bruce responded carefully, sincerely saddened, "why would you say that about an old family friend?"

And, poor Damian, looked two parts baffled and three parts murderous. Nonplussed and unable to even fathom a response to his father. He just stared the man down.

Dick huffed in exasperation behind them. "C'mon, B. Will you let that go already?"

Bruce furrowed his brows, eyes already taking on that faint sheen of kicked-puppiness, and looked back up at his eldest. "You don't believe me, Dickie? After all these years?"

Dick responded with a flat stare. Danny kind of wished he had popcorn for this moment. It was like witnessing a mild car crash. Nobody got hurt and it was still wicked to see parts flying everywhere. There was even a chance of things catching fire. Man was he glad he could just watch.

"Danny?" Bruce pleaded, turning to him with those sad, sad eyes. "Do you believe me, chum?"

And fuck how was he supposed to respond to that?

"I have it on good authority," he said, thinking of yearly fight, after fight, after fight, "that his existence is very hotly debated in the scientific community."

He could feel the questioning stares from Damian and Dick but he refused to look away from the innocently tilted head of his unfortunate foster father.

"Is that a yes?" and he sounded so sincerely hopeful. He couldn't crush the man's spirit. He couldn't.

But he also refused to lie and say he believed in Santa. At fifteen.

He clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth, but eventually replied. "It's a hotly debated topic."

And Bruce just smiled that empty smile and patted his shoulder. "Thanks, chum."

He, again, ignored Damian and Dick's stares. If he looked at them, he'd break. If he so much as made partial eye-contact, he was gonna fucking lose it.

"Oh look! We're almost at the front!"

Danny was living his worst life. Officially. This was the bad time-line. Dan's future didn't even come close. He was going to go mega evil any second now and kill everyone in the vicinity and then himself. This wasn't happening and it wasn't real and Santa Claus can't hurt him because he isn't real.

But Bruce, the saddest man in history, utterly and sincerely believed that he was.

So Danny was going to sit on some random old dude's lap and pretend to care about what he wanted for Christmas and whether or not he'd been a good boy this year and he was going to force a smile the entire time and his soul might shrivel up and die all the way inside, but at least Bruce would be happy.

What the fuck kind of afterlife was he living.

And then it was their turn and Danny was forced to go up first because the alternative was Damian committing homicide in the middle of the mall while Dick and Bruce cheerily took pictures.

Okay. Just sit down. Spit out answers to any inane questions. Pose for picture. And leave. Simple and easy and completely unbearable. But- for Bruce- he would bear it.

But, damn it all, a chill went down his spine as he approached.

No. Absolutely not.

There was no way. But he examined the man sitting in the chair and the more he saw the more the sinking pit in his stomach grew. Full thick beard of snow white hair. Brown eyes filled with smug mischief and magnanimity. Thick red velvet jacket made for trapping in heat in extreme cold weather, lined with white fur that looked suspiciously close to trim on cloaks he'd seen in the Far Frozen. A not-quite-ghostly-not-quite-magic-but-something-in-between aura he often got around Gods and Ancients.

Fuck, but Bruce actually knew the real bonafide Santa Fucking Claus.

What, and he means this with a great amount of emotion, the fuck.

He sat down in a stupor and the man just placidly smiled at him, a twinkle in his eye letting him know that he knew Danny was currently experiencing new stages of grief not yet known to man and was just gonna let him ride it out. How nice of him. Because of course he was being nice. He was Santa.

Fuck.

He looked up at the man. Ghost. God. Whatever. And for a good moment that's all either of them did. Just. Stared.

Sorry, Santa, Danny's brain has suddenly gone on vacation. 404 not found. Please leave a message after the tone. Error. Sorry, there's nothing there. Please try again.

After a few agonizing moments he asked, "how? Do you know Bruce?"

And Santa laughed at him, the sound working its way into his bones and filling him with a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. It tasted just a bit like egg nog. Gross.

"Well," the man started, voice deep and rich like a good cup of hot chocolate, (whatthefuckwhathtefuck). "Why wouldn't I know a man like Bruce? Honorable, righteous, and very skilled. One of the best the Justice League has, if I'm being honest."

And then Danny's brain stopped completely. Because there was no fucking way Santa (FUCK) was implying what he thought he was implying.

But it all made so much sense now. His ears were ringing suddenly and the world was greying out but he was Seeing the Light.

"-nny?" Santa (FUCK!!) was saying. "Are you alright? Want to tell me what you want for Christmas now?"

"Hm," he said airily, still not all the way there, "I'm good, thanks."

And then he slid off the man's lap and walked back to his foster family in a daze. And he looked at Bruce (BATMAN!! FUCK!!!) and he slid a slow hand down his face, attempting to take the skin off it in the process.

"You alright, Danny man?" Dick asked, only half paying attention while he gleefully snapped pictures of a sullen Damian barely restraining himself from committing violence while stubbornly standing next to Santa instead of sitting on his lap.

"That's the real Santa, Bruce is Batman, and I'm half-dead," he replied bluntly.

Dick fumbled his phone in response and Bruce merely raised his eyebrows.

"That's an odd start to a 'three guys walk into a bar' joke there, chum," he said amiably. And Danny wouldn't have noticed the tension in his voice if he weren't ghostly. But he was and unfortunately for them all, it was now everyone's problem.

"Not a joke," he said. "I'll explain the dead part later but Santa outed you on accident."

"Okay, no," Dick interrupted, "we are not leaving the dead part for later, Danny, what the fuck."

"Listen," he said flatly, slapping his hands on either side of Dick's face and smooshing it to convey his seriousness while he spoke. "Santa is real, he's a God, and he's sitting right there." He emphasized with a sweeping wave of his arm in the direction Damian was stomping back towards them from. "We're leaving the dead part for later."

"What is all this about? Dead part? What is going on?" Damian demanded in rapid succession, growing more aggressive and persistent with each question.

Danny, already on his last fucking nerve, was gonna lose it. For real.

"Apparently," Dick drawled, disbelief and an unfair amount of derision in his tone, "that's the real Santa, he told Danny B was Batman, and Danny's now saying he's dead."

"What-"

Damian did not get to finish his sentence because that was the exact moment Danny finally snapped. Every bit of pent up tension and hostility, every bit of restrained Holiday fueled fury he'd been bottling up. Unleashed all at once because Dick decided to be an asshole about not believing him.

Danny snatched one of the giant plastic candy canes that lined the aisle of the queue to see Mall (but actually Real) Santa and gave a good swing in Dick's direction. Dick who had unfairly good reflexes and was able to dodge by jumping over the swing and landing back neatly on his feat.

"Danny?!" he cried, incredulous.

But Danny was no longer listening. Only reveling in the wild swinging of the candy cane and attempting to land a hit on Dick for being an absolute dick and finally unleashing hell upon the world and specifically his asshole foster brother. And maybe he put a little bit more ghostly strength in his last swing than he meant to, because when he finally made contact- he heard a pained off as Dick went down hard.

"Danny, please," he wheezed from the soft bank of fake snow he'd fallen into, "it's Christmas."

He screeched and continued his assault. "It's December 10th!"

And then, promptly; Bruce wrangled the candy cane from Danny's grasp, Damian pulled Dick from the floor, and they were all calmly escorted from the mall and asked politely to never return.

Danny really, truly, hated Christmas. And it looked like that wasn't going to change any time soon.

[gaygirldoodles]

No matter what you do, don't think about Leo Valdez

Don't think about the trauma of having his mother die like that at such a young age

Don't think about how his Tia Rosa treated him horribly despite how he was just a kid

Don't think about the amount of abuse he faced in all of those foster homes he was sent to

Don't think about how he had to run away from them, fending for himself on the streets over and over again

Don't think about him being sent to wilderness school, a thing notorious for being horrible towards the kids and downright traumatizing

Don't think about the people he knew even a little who were harmed by that system or even killed

Don't think about how the history of a friendship he held so dearly turned out to be fabricated by Juno. That it was all a lie

Don't think about him still being best friend with Jason - the real Jason - only for their to be a prophecy that one of them must die

Don't think about how he decided that it must be him

He couldn't let Jason die

Don't think about how he tells Hazel and Frank about his plan because Romans understant self-sacrifice, but Jason wouldn't. Jason, who's done nothing but sacrifice things for the people he cares about.

Don't think about how Leo and Jason never reunited after that.

Don't think about him finding out that his best friend, and someone he maybe even liked more than that, died.

"Where's Jason?"

But we all know that he knew

And he still asked

Don't think about how he would blame himself for that.

You can't avoid prophecies after all

They always have to be fulfilled somehow

Don't think about his mother, Esperanza

Don't think about how he spent weeks months in Bunker 9 building the Argo II barely interacting with anybody

Don't think about how he barely even celebrated Christmas if at all because the whole world depended on hin building this huge warship

Don't think about Leo using humor to hide how bad he truly feels just so that Gaea wouldn't win

He could not let her destroy him

Because as long as he didn't lose that part of himself, he was still winning, even if what she had done had left him broken

But you do want to think about how he was finally able to find a home.

A place that would accept him how he was

A place that would be safe for him

A place where he wouldn't have to run from abusive family members and fosters homes anymore

He once again had a family that loved him.

[oneforthemunny]

janitor!eddie munson x teacher!reader timeline

original blurb - what started as ramblings on my first blog (funsonmunson) turned into this lol. after watching abbott elementary, i was inspired. how they met, the cutesy beginning and lore.

apple blurb - also from funsonmunson and was a very early blurb. just kinda shows how they were cutesy and flirty and the beginning of their relationship. super fluffy blurb.

falling- a work from my spooky stories writing challenge i did for halloween. centered around their early relationship. a fluffy little date.

love me tender - a fluffy/smutty and sweet work about their first time together.

cotton candy blurb- from vivi's blurb game. short and sweet, shows their sweet dynamic.

embarrassment smut blurb - a smutty blurb at the beginning of their relationship from vivi's blurb game.

thirty four-thirty five - a smutty work that's after the relationship is established but still new. when they start trying new things, getting more comfortable and exploring sexually.

some sunny day - the most heartbreaking fic i've ever wrote to date. very angsty, hurt/comfort. a milestone in their relationship, where eddie talks about his mother's passing and grieving.

carry out - a smutty work that takes place when their relationship is established, they're serious, living together or about to.

pearls blurb - a wedding day short blurb from vivi's blurb game. follows the wedding gift eddie gives reader before she walks down the aisle. very fluffy and sweet.

ok the following is about oliver or ollie. i haven't written an official work or blurb about his backstory bc it makes me want to sob, but he was one of reader's students. came from a very neglectful family, her and eddie would take care of him after a while. he gets into the foster care system, and they foster to adopt him.

you get pregnant shortly after adopting oliver, and that is how olivia comes into your lives.

new tricks, new treats - is the first oliver story in the timeline. takes place after he is in your care, about to be adopted but still fostering. from a the spooky stories writing challenge. it's his first halloween under your care. very fluffy.

santa claus is comin' to town - also about oliver's first christmas in your care. talks about his parent's past neglect, about eddie's as well, but is ultimately very fluffy and sweet. from munny's merriest my xmas writing game.

ultrasound blurb - from vivi's blurb game. talks about baby olivia and finding her gender. very sweet and fluffy.

the best day with you today - follows eddie and oliver. both learning how to bond. shows eddie's own struggles and insecurities being a dad, but is the sweetest fluffiest piece. ft. baby olivia.

flowers blurb - a blurb from vivi's blurb game that follows eddie getting a promotion. you, oliver, and olivia surprise him with flowers to celebrate it. very fluffy and sweet. shows how grateful and in love eddie is with all of you, his little family <3

[george-weasleys-girl]

Yule request - I really like Aftermath and the Next Level, so as a follow up could it be the first Christmas after the war, and Fred proposes to reader whilst they have Christmas at the Weasleys? Reader doesn't have a family (well she does but they treated her badly so she was brought up by Shacklebolt which is how she works for him so he's her foster Dad or something?) so every year since she became adopted (a baby as Shaklebolt found her as a baby in Diagon Alley left in a bad way) she has spent it with Shaklebolt and the Weasleys as Shaklebolt and Arthur are best friends. ❤️

❄️Yuletide Celebration❄️

A Christmas Proposal

Fred Weasley x fem!reader

The sound of drunken Christmas carols echoed through the Burrow. "Oh, is it that time already?" Y/N laughed as Arthur and Kingsley Shacklebolt staggered around the corner into the kitchen where she and Fred were helping Molly finish up the baking.

Molly rolled her eyes. "I'm taking that bottle of mulled wine away from you two."

"She says that every year," Fred whispered to Y/N.

"And she never does," Y/N giggled and shook her head. "It's hard to believe those two are actually responsible adults. 'Cause right now, a good stiff breeze would blow them right over."

It was at that very moment the wind picked up, rattling the windows. "Shall we open the door and find out?" Fred waggled his eyebrows at Y/N.

"Be nice," Y/N elbowed him playfully in the side. "Though it is tempting," she added with a grin.

~•~

Every Christmas since Fred could remember, Y/N, along with her adoptive father and Arthur's best friend, Kingsley Shacklebolt, spent Christmas at the Burrow.

He and Y/N had grown up together, becoming best friends and confidants. Then, somewhere along the way, he fell for Y/N, and she fell for him. Though, it took a couple of years and a near-death experience for them to finally admit it to each other.

Fred kept a close eye on her as she made her way over to the sofa. Y/N had been using her cane quite bit recently and a few times had needed her wheelchair. The colder months were hard on her, causing the damaged nerves in her back to spasm relentlessly.

She hid it well, though, all smiles and laughter, and waving off her pain as if it was nothing. But not with him. Never with him. When the two of them were alone, it was only then that she let the mask fall away. So many times over the past months, he'd held her as she cried in pain or in frustration at all the things she could no longer do.

It broke his heart. She'd been through so much already. As an infant, she'd been left to die on Diagon Alley in the dead of winter by her worthless parents, and then they rejected for a second time when she reached out to them several years ago.

And now this.

"Hey, love," he slid in beside her on the sofa. She shuddered, closing her eyes for a moment. And he knew.

Fred stretched. "I think we're going to call it a night," he announced and stood.

Y/N smiled at him. "Thanks," she said once they were alone. "You always take such good care of me."

"And I always will," he pushed a stray hair behind her ear. "Now, let's get you in bed."

~•~

Fred waited until all the gifts were unwrapped before he announced there was one more. He glanced over at Shacklebolt, who smiled and gave an almost imperceptible nod. Then he turned and knelt before Y/N, holding out a small box containing a diamond ring.

"My dearest Y/N, you are the light that has brightened up my life in ways I never knew were possible. Together, we have shared so much, both good and bad. Even on the worst days, every day spent with you has been a gift. I can't imagine growing old with anyone else, nor do I want to. Will you marry me?"

Tears flowed down Y/N's cheeks. "Yes! Yes, Freddie! I'll marry you!"

The room erupted into cheers as Fred gathered her into a gentle embrace. "I love you, Y/N. Always and forever," he mummered, his own tears mingling with hers.

"I love you too," she smiled. "Always and forever."

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @fredweasleyyyyy @hufflepuffie @alexistonks @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @smallsweetvanillabean @costheticbabe @thatonepersonwhocantwrite @charmedfandomgal @loveosewood @hanne-montana @rhunew @greenapplegrass @lizzytrees @spididerman

[theeggoman]

Being "Too White" Is A Myth.

Sometimes I worry that I'm just a white person pretending to be Latino (because when you're mixed race you're always thinking that you're not enough) but then I remember how every single person in my foster home including the adults referred to me as a "Wetback" or a "Beaner" or a "Fat Mexican" or an "Alien" instead of simply calling me by my white sounding first name because to white people, you will never be enough. It doesn't matter how much or how little white blood you have, in America if you're mixed with a single drop of anything that isn't white, you're not and will never be white.

I wasn't white when I was being tackled and forced down naked on the floor by the police at 12, I wasn't white when I was put in ESL at 8 even though english is my first language, I wasn't white when Christian religious leaders were explaining how I was cursed with the Mark of Cain to have a "skin of blackness" and being Latino made me inherently evil, I wasn't white when I was being sexually assaulted at 5 because I was "naturally promiscuous" and "born looking older" and "asking for it," I wasn't white when I was tackled by boarder patrol in south Texas and detained over night in a holding facility until my grandparents could come get me out, I wasn't white when my friend's mom took me bra shopping and insisted she had to be in the dressing room while I changed to make sure I didn't steal anything, I wasn't white when the doctor wrote my fucking race on my birth certificate while I was being pushed out of my Mexican mother who had to spend hours dealing with the racist medical staff who refused to let my white father into the delivery room because they didn't believe I was his child.

And now I get on tik tok and see people accusing mixed race children of being "white washed." They say we don't experience racism because we're "white passing." They tell us we're grasping for straws and we're stealing from our own fucking culture. They say we're "spicy white," that our blood is diluted, that we're not real.

Are we not real in the same way that our country did not legally recognize our white parents until the 1960's? Are we not real in the same way that we were legally declared bastards who couldn't inherit our own father's last name, his property, his money, our childhood homes? Not real in the way we weren't permitted to attend our white parent's funerals by their white family members? Not real in the way we weren't issued fucking social security cards? Were we not real when our parents couldn't "really" legally get married? Were we not real when our POC parent was shot dead for daring to fall in love with a white person? Were we not real when were named after our POC grandmothers? Were we not real when our White grandmothers cried at our birth and asked why we had to come out "so dark?"

Am I not real when I light the candles on my Ofrenda on November 1st and 2nd, when I bring fresh carnations and Pan Dulce for my brother because he was too young to have a favorite candy for me to put at his grave? Am I not real when I spend 6 hours slow cooking bone broth for Birria after removing all the seeds from the Guajillo chilis so my white friends don't die? Am I not real when I translate for a single mom who wants to use the library printer? Am I not real when I braid my curls? When I wash the Serepa? When I run from owls?

And am I not real when I jam out to country music? When I go camping with my friends? When I celebrate Christmas before Three Kings Day? Am I not real when I choose to embrace both sides of my culture? When I put my foot down and decide I am not half of anything, I am entirely both?

I don't care if you think I'm too white. Don't put your insecurities on me just because you don't wanna learn Spanish.

[saltygilmores]

(Gilmore Girls) talking points I can and will discuss for hours at any time (mostly Jess stuff though)

Saw someone do this on Instagram and thought I'd do it too.

Dean is An Abomination and his own parents tried to abandon him on the side of the road (he made his way back somehow, crafty son of a bitch) Lorelai is a terrible horrible no good immature person, a gignatic hypocrite, a bad mother, and she dismisses and often encourages Dean’s abuse towards Rory How Lorelai married into Jess' family and now there SHOULD BE a cloud of shame hanging over her head that she treated her nephew like shit for no reason for years and now she has to look him in the eye at every holiday and family gathering for the rest of time, but she has no shame. Aunt Lorelai remember when I was 17 you said I should die in a fire and you'd rather save your shoes? Anyway, Pass the turkey. How much does Rory tell Jess about what Lorelai says about him behind his back Lorelai and Dean's affair (The DALA)

Justice for Lindsay Lister Nearly any Pre and Post Stars Hollow Jess Headcanon (That Usually Do Not Involve Rory) (his entire childhood, his entire adulthood, his ho life, his success as a popular author, Jess as a brother to Doula, life in Philadelphia, stories with his Truncheon buddies, Jess as a mediocre drug dealer in NYC #heytawd), Jess traveling cross country (love that one so much I made an absolutely massive Spotify playlist to accompany it), did he ever go to college? Among the carousel of rotating Mom's Boyfriends and Stepfathers did he ever have a few good ones in the mix? Liz likely didn't have a car and would never care to teach him, so who taught him how to drive?

If Jess had such a terrible childhood did Luke ever try to intervene? How much did he know? How much did he see Jess as a kid? Was Jess ever in foster care? Liz Danes...just Liz Danes. Could probably discuss this trainwreck and the people in her orbit until i was blue in the face. I have thoughts. Headcanon: Jess has had sex with any other similarly-aged existing character on the show besides Rory at some point (this would be in the future, during his Ho Years.. I don't really find any joy in the thought of him cheating on Rory) Where do Rory and Jess go on the dates that are (infrequently) implied they have Why does Luke always bring up how severely he underpays Jess for working a the diner? How often does Jess wait on Rory and Lorelai's table? Do they actually tip him, ever? Shane, Shane’s murder The date of Jess' birthday (it's late August or early September, babes. I'm unflinching on this but willing to hear all sides)

The origin of Jess’ unusual name How do Jess and Rory celebrate birthday and holidays together (within the OG series timeline)? If they actually do? Does Jess actually want to celebrate his birthday or Christmas? What gifts do they buy each other? The prom that never was Rory loses her virginity to a stupid butthead but doesn't put out for Jess for like 8 months and frequently teases him while the poor thing doesn’t even have the privacy to jack it once in a while to a Maxim magazine (but also, did they or did they not come fairly close off screen at some point, when and where?) gurl you interrupted a steamy makeout session so you could run home and talk to your mom! You talk to your mom every second of every day! And before that, you run away after your first real make out sesh so you could go talk to Dean! You are beyond help. What is up with that "We haven't seen each other in four years" comment between Jess and Rory in AYITL? What the hell happened in 2012? What is the day to day life in Stars Hollow High like between Jess, Dean, Lane, Lindsay without Rory around? Do Dean and Jess have any classes together? Where do they sit in the cafeteria? How come Lane and Dean never told Rory that Jess was skipping school? Especially when Dean has an incentive to spill the tea (getting Jess in trouble) and Lane is a hopeless gossip and there's no effing way she could keep something like that from Rory for that long

What is The Subsect actually about

What would it be like if Jess went to Chilton with Rory? How would he even get in (I really have to stretch the limits of my imagination but I have a few weak theories)

Madelyn and Louise (they’re awesome)

The friendships that could have been between Jess and Paris or Jess and Lane

How Rory is too dopey to see that Paris is in love with her

How disaster follows every female character who loses their virginity (even when in the confines of marriage)

The child bride epidemic on this show

Dave Ryglaski is mediocre. Alex is under rated and it’s a shame the Male Gilmore Girls Character California Wormhole probably sucked him in like Dave was, never to be seen again.

I don’t even care about her storyline: April as a character is so incredibly annoying I can’t watch any scene she is in.

Jason DiggerStjmes is so uninteresting and his chemistry with Lorelai is so weak and the insurance storylines are so fucking insipid I have to skip all of those scenes too.

The only characters who emerged from season 6 with any sort of diginity intact were Jess and Paul Anka.

[jellybeanium124]

So I just saw your post about not realizing that the bat mitzvah wine is wine and not grape juice and I just wanted you to know that Catholics have a version of that where if you are a secular child and you sleep over at your (Midwestern idk if it's different other places) catholic friends house and their parents make you go to church in the morning you get grape juice for communion when the adults get wine but if you sleep over at your Episcopalian friend's house and go to church with them in the morning you get exactly one shot glass sized dixie cup of real wine (if you're Catholic and you have a different experience from this don't at me I went to one mass ever)

I went to two masses ever at a big-ass church for the first communions of two family friends and lemme tell you it is very weird to be one of the only four people not kneeling when everyone else kneels. very conspicuous. do not recommend.

also WHAT THE FUCK YOUR FRIENDS' PARENTS MADE YOU GO TO CHURCH???? one of my best friend's parents are evangelicals and if I slept over at her house, our parents had to come get us before church but they didn't MAKE US GO BRO WTF???? the other two people in my absolute most core friend group growing up came from an athiest family and a seemingly-not-religious-to-me-but-idk-they-do-celebrate-christmas-tho hindu indian family so maybe the evangelical parents knew none of our parents would be like... cool with that... but there was also like a modicum of respect there. like there was enough respect that I never felt invalidated or lesser or like hatecrimed at their house and nobody ever tried to fuckin convert me.

forcing other people's kids to do churchy things ned and maude flanders s7e3 style* just screams an absolute lack of respect or boundaries or anything.

*bart, lisa, and maggie get put into the foster care system right into the flanders's home and ned freaks out when he learns they're not baptized and decides to baptize them and homer and marge have to save them from getting baptized.

[agrosehamada]

We're hitting slow season for events, so I decided to get an early start on my end of year project for Special Dollivery! If anyone isn't familiar with them, they're an awesome organization that donates American Girls to kids in foster care! I started making it my goal to make outfits to donate for the winter holidays each year, and this year I decided to go with making outfit sets (a dress and a nightgown) for kids who celebrate Kwanzaa and/or Chanukah/Hanukkah! Just finished up my first batch of outfits, Kwanzaa dresses, which Hermione is modeling :) (She'll be modeling all of the outfits--her birth family celebrated Chanukah and her adopted dad, David (Wasabi) grew up celebrating both Kwanzaa and Christmas with his family. So they've combined their traditions and now they celebrate all three! I'm making four sets of each outfit to donate and one of each for Hermione to keep ^^)

[something-tofightfor]

Competing For Christmas 10: Last Christmas

Pairing: Modern Din Djarin x Female Reader

Word Count: 11,170

Rating: E - but not all the way through. 

Summary: 

Making plans for the future means telling the people you care about what’s going on ... how will they take it? Mandalorian traditions are new to you, but that doesn’t mean that there’s no place for them alongside your own holiday celebrations.

Author’s notes:

I’ll keep it simple here - this is it. This story has come to an end, and I’m so happy with what I’ve written and the story I’ve told for these two. Thank you for giving this version of Din a chance, and for sticking around throughout the whole thing.  More gratitude at the end if you want to read it - I’ll let you get to reading now. 

** Mando’a translation at the end of the chapter. **

Questions, concerns, comments? My inbox is open!

To get alerted when I post new chapters/stories, follow @somethingtofightfor-shares and turn on post notifications - you can also ask to be added to my tag list (link in bio or at the top of my taglist reblog)

Masterlist  / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5.1 / Part 5.2 / Din’s POV Interlude / Part 6.1 / Part 6.2 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 

You were more nervous than you wanted to admit as the two of you stepped toward your parents’ front door the following morning. 

It wasn’t because you were unsure of Din. It was because you knew that no matter how much trust your family had in you to do what was best for yourself, what you were about to tell them you had planned was not going to be what they wanted to hear. And I get it, but … 

“You alright?” Din’s fingers were laced with yours, the man squeezing your hand tightly as he spoke. “You just got really stiff, and -”

“I’ll be ok. It’s just going to be a lot for them to take in, and …” You sighed. “And it’ll probably be a lot of questions for you.” 

“I can handle it.” He leaned over, kissing the side of your head. “Believe it or not, I’m a pro at diffusing difficult situations when I’ve got the proper motivation.” You believed him, and even though you were still worried, you were thankful that you wouldn’t have to face the truth alone. 

Raising your free hand, you settled it on the doorknob, taking a deep breath. “Here goes nothing, Din.” 

— 

The first half of the day went well, and your family seemed to love the man. 

After explaining that his presence was a last minute decision thanks to a change of his original plans, he’d joined in on the festivities.

Din participated in the white elephant game with one of the extra gifts your mother always bought and wrapped, and himself into conversations as often as he could, charming your father with endless pictures of Grogu. He sat back and watched as the three of you exchanged gifts, and the smile didn’t leave his face the entire time, even though you could see that the situation made him a little uneasy. Is it because he isn’t participating, or because he sees … that this is so important to us? 

You didn’t know - and planned on asking as soon as you could. But it would need to wait, because as the day want on, things shifted - and your parents increased their focus on getting to know the man sitting beside you.

They asked him a few questions but nothing too personal, even though you knew that they wanted to. And to his credit, Din answered each one candidly, explaining that he’d grown up not knowing his parents and under the care of Mandalore’s foster system, that he’d been in school until his mid 20’s, participated in military training, and had only decided to experience what life was like in Mistletoe much later on, once he’d taken care of most of his immediate responsibilities. 

He told the truth but not the entire truth each time he spoke, since you’d decided that you weren’t going to say anything about leaving until after dinner.  That way … if they get upset, I won’t have ruined the whole holiday. 

The doorbell rang later that afternoon while the four of you were sitting around and watching a movie, and Din’s eyes immediately went to it. You calmed him with one hand on his arm, leaning over to let him know what was going on. “Just my aunt and uncle. They always stop over on their way home from his sister’s.” He nodded, taking a breath and relaxing his shoulders. 

When Din turned his head to speak quietly into your ear, you felt goosebumps rise on your arms, the warmth of his breath on your skin making you shiver. “So will they be here when … we tell them?” Yeah. You nodded, lips pressed together. I hope that’s ok. “Alright.” 

“She’s the one that asked where you were last night.” You nudged him, smiling. “Wondered why I didn’t bring you, so I’m sure she’s going to be -”

“Oh, so he is here.” Your aunt Carol stepped into the room, busy unwinding her scarf from around her neck. “Jess, come meet the new guy.” You rolled your eyes, sighing. He’s got to know that’s not how I introduced him. “We’ve heard a lot about you.” She stepped closer and Din pushed to his feet, extending his hand and nodding as he took hers - and then her husband’s, introducing himself. “Din. That’s an unusual name. Is it short for something?”

“It isn’t.” He smiled, shrugging. “Where I’m from, we usually take on a name from our family’s history, as a way to honor the past. Din’s … well, I don’t really know the whole story behind it, but it -” He was flustered and so you interjected, reaching up to tug on his hand and urge him to sit down next to you. 

“Aunt Carol’s nosy but she means well, I promise.” The woman scoffed, sinking onto the loveseat without looking away from the two of you. “I’m going to go and get a drink, does anyone need anything?” Din raised an eyebrow, his eyes flicking toward the kitchen. “Is it time?” 

“I think it is.” He stood again, extending his hand and helping you to your feet before turning to face the rest of your family. “We brought a traditional Mandalorian drink for everyone to try, if you’d like.” 

“Is it alcohol?” Carol leaned forward, her smile widening. “Because I love trying new -”

“It is.” He smiled, nodding once. “We’ll get it ready and then bring it out to all of you.” Your parents agreed, too, shooing you out of the room. So they can talk about him, I’m sure. When you and Din were alone in the kitchen, you took a few seconds to compose yourself, gripping the edge of the counter and taking a deep breath as you leaned over the sink. “We can still wait to tell them,” he started, stepping close and settling a hand on your back. “I know what you said last night, but -”

“Din, I’m leaving in like 48 hours. They need to know.” You looked up at him, giving him a tight smile. “Their reaction won’t change my mind about going with you, but I’m … I’m worried they won’t support it entirely, and -” And I’d like them to.

“Oh, they won’t.” He laughed quietly, heading for the refrigerator. “What parents would? We weren’t close until a few weeks ago, and now you’re just … leaving to go across an ocean with me?” He uncorked the jug as you reached for glasses and set them on the counter, eyeing Din as he lifted the neck to his nose and inhaled. “This is a good batch.” He sighed. “I’d expect nothing less from Boba, though.” 

“I’m excited to try it. Can you tell me what to expect?” It was changing the subject, but that was fine with you. I don’t want to think about the fact that before Thanksgiving, we didn’t even really know each other

“About that.” He wet his lips, pouring two fingers of the drink into a glass and setting the bottle down. “It’s tradition for …” He sighed. “This is kind of strange so please forgive me.” Din reached for the glass and picked it up, turning to face you. “It’s tradition for Mandalorians to share spotchka when they’re …” He paused. “Courting.” 

“Mandalorians or the Mand’alor?” Because if it’s all Mandalorians, that’s one thing … but if it’s just royalty … Swallowing hard, you chewed on your lower lip. “Because -”

“The Mand’alor. And I know I’m not that yet, but I’d… I’d like to do this right …with you.” Oh, Din. He’d told you that he couldn’t offer you anything concrete, and yet he was willing to participate in a sacred tradition with you - and that meant a lot. He’s got to know it. He has to realize it, especially if I do. 

“Ok.” You nodded. “Ok, so how do we…” You trailed off as he lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip before holding the remaining liquid out to you. You took it and did the same, keeping your gaze on him. 3 … 2 … 1…. 

You didn’t know what to expect, but the spotchka was sweet as you first sipped it, your eyes widening at the taste. Oh, that’s not … that’s not bad. Taking a larger drink, you smiled with a full mouth, raising an eyebrow before you swallowed, setting the glass down on the countertop. Din’s grin grew, the man reaching out with one hand to swipe his thumb over your lower lip, his eyes bright. “Did you like it?” Ok, we’re definitely going to have to talk about this later. I need him to understand how much it meant to me.  

“I did.” You looked at the jug. “It wasn’t what I expected, though. Is it … is it supposed to be salty? It’s sweet, too, but there’s a little bit of -”

“It is.”  He busied himself with rinsing the glass you’d used and re-corking the bottle. “It’s brewed with seawater, which adds the brine, but there’s also fruit in the mix.” He waited until you’d put the glasses onto a tray to continue as you walked back toward where your family was. “Each batch is a little different, depending on when and where it’s made, but it’s the same general taste.” 

You set the tray down on the table and Din did the same with the bottle. Everyone leaned forward, ooh-ing at the color of the bright blue liquid, but it was your mother that spoke first, keeping her eyes on Din as he poured. “Are we celebrating something? This feels like we’re celebrating something, and I don’t mean Christmas.” 

Din didn’t falter in his movement, finishing the pour and beginning to hand the glasses out, one at a time. But you weren’t as easily able to hide your reaction, a slight frown crossing your father’s features at your brief wince. “We are.” You took a deep breath as you accepted the second to last glass from Din, glancing over at the man before you looked at your parents. “We -”

“Are you pregnant?” Your aunt spoke first, narrowing her eyes. “No, that’s not it, you’re drinking today, and you drank last night, so -” 

“I’m not pregnant. I promise.” Laughing, you held up the glass and looked around the room. “It’s nothing like that, but …” With another look at Din - the man nodding so quickly you almost missed it - you continued. “We’re celebrating Christmas and … the fact that Din is going to be named as the Mand’alor next week when he goes home.” 

The room was silent - and then it wasn’t, your uncle cutting in as he leaned closer. “Can you repeat that?” 

“Drink first and then we will.” Din’s tone was steady, the man gesturing with his spotchka. “It’s better to drink it right after pouring.” 

“Merry Christmas, everyone.” There were murmurs of the same in return, and as all of you drained the small amount of liquid Din had poured, you mentally cursed yourself. That wasn’t slick. I could have done that better. I could have - 

“What’s a Mand…alore?” Your mother frowned, setting the empty glass down. “That was a very good drink, but… going home? That seems like -”

“The Mand’alor is my country’s version of a king or queen.” Din straightened his shoulders. “And your daughter is correct in saying that as of next week, my plans to formally fill the role will be announced.” He took a breath. “A good friend of mine currently holds the position, and he’s stepping down, so it’s my turn.” You reached over, squeezing his knee. “And that means that I’m headed back home in the next few days to make those plans.” 

“But the two of you are …” Your father leaned back in his chair, staring at Din. “How are you here right now if you’ve got such a responsibility?” 

“This - my time in Mistletoe - wasn’t ever going to be permanent.” Din set his glass down, shaking his head. “I was supposed to be here until later this year, and then go back, but … circumstances have changed, and I need to go back sooner. I came here to enjoy my last little bit of freedom before I take the title, and things … well, they didn’t go as planned.” Din lowered his head briefly and then raised it, making sure to make eye contact with each of your parents in turn. “Your daughter asking me to be her partner for this competition wasn’t part of my plan, but now … now it’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.” 

He wasn’t lying - you knew that he wouldn’t dare, and you inhaled sharply at his words, your fingers tightening against his knee, even as your mother leaned forward, opening her mouth to speak. One of the best things? But it’s only been a few weeks, it … “So you’re just going to… what? Have your fun here and then leave? The two of you seem very close. My daughter isn’t just going to -”

“Mom.” You glanced up at the ceiling, sighing. “Din and I are close. We’ve worked together since he got here, but we only really got to know each other after James and I broke up. We’re still… in the process, but, yeah. He’s leaving. And I’m …” Din’s hand covered yours, the man silently letting you know that he was there. “I’m going with him.” 

The room was silent, four pairs of eyes focused on you and Din, and for the first time, you felt true fear as you waited to see what they’d say. They have to understand, at least somewhat. They have to know that this isn’t just a crazy decision. 

“When are you leaving?” Your mother spoke first, the fingers of one hand twisting the end of her sweater’s sleeve. “If he’s announcing so soon, then it has to be before he does, right? What about your job?” 

“My plan is to leave the morning of the 27th.” Din cleared his throat, meeting the woman’s gaze straight on. “There are some … things that have come up that make it necessary for me to go back as soon as possible. There’s a plane on the way here for me right now.” 

“That man… the one that came up to you at the carnival the other night.” Your aunt took a breath, letting it out in a slow sigh. “Was that -”

“It was. That’s the current Mand’alor and my closest friend. He came here to bring me home, but I couldn’t … I couldn’t go without being honest with her.” Din reached for your hand, his head turning enough that he could look at you. “I care about your daughter. But I want to show her where I’m from before we make any long term decisions.” Your father stayed silent, his arms crossed, and you had no idea what to say in response. Something. Anything. 

“I’m leaving with Din and then I’ll be home in time to go back to work on the 5th.” You circled your thumb over Din’s knuckle, the warmth of his skin calming. “And then … then we might have some things to talk about.” It was the easiest way to explain things to them - telling them that you were going but the first trip was going to be a short one, that you were definitely coming back, that that day wouldn’t be the last time they saw you for the foreseeable future. “Besides, I haven’t been on vacation in a long time, and going somewhere for New Year’s Eve will be nice.” 

“Well I’m happy for you.” Carol held up a hand, her smile widening. “It sounds like fun. And congratulations, Din, on the new title. It sounds like -”

“Can I talk to you?” Your mother stood, pointing toward the kitchen. “Alone?” With a deep sigh, you agreed, standing. Din gave your hand one final squeeze and then dropped it, clearing his throat. 

You heard him begin to tell your family members more about Mandalore and himself as you and the woman excused yourself into the other room. It was apparent that she was fighting back emotions as you made your way to the small table, but you had no idea what she was going to say - or how you’d reply. 

She sat first, clasping her hands together and staring at them, and when she finally spoke, you were shocked to hear how incredulous she sounded, her tone sharper than you remembered her ever using with you before. “You’re telling us on Christmas that this man, this coworker of yours is actually next in line to become the king of a country that no one’s ever heard of?”

It was difficult to keep your voice even, but your desire to make her understand outweighed the part of you that wanted to lash out. “Yeah, mom. He was here for the last little bit of time he’ll have to himself before he takes over for Boba. He decided to leave Mandalore and see what else was out there, and… he ended up here.”

“And you knew this? But you didn’t say anything earlier? Why? Why didn’t you tell us?” She blinked a few times, her eyes filled with tears when she met yours. “Why did you lie?” It hurt that she thought you’d been lying to her, but the truth was probably going to hurt more. Because it’s unbelievable. 

“No. I didn’t know.” You covered your face with your hands. “Mom, I had no idea about any of this until the night of the snowman event. I just thought he was some guy that moved here. When he finally told me, I didn’t … I didn’t believe it either. But then I looked into it, and it’s all true. I met Boba and Din explained more about Mandalore and his position. It’s all happening fast, and I know it. But it feels right. It feels … good.” 

“You just broke up with James what, two months ago?” She scoffed. “And now you’re already getting ready to leave with some man you barely know? Didn’t you say that you wouldn’t have moved from Mistletoe with James? So why now? Why with Din?” 

She was making valid points, and even though hearing them stung, you stayed strong, flattening both hands on the table.

“Because James wanted me to move without any certainty for the future. He said he wasn’t ready to marry me or plan a life with me, but I needed to be ready to move as soon as he found an opportunity.” You rolled your eyes. “Din offered me a choice. He asked me to go with him. And he was honest about the fact that it might not work out after I see what being with him means after he takes over.” You reached out, touching the back of one of her hands. “I know it’s fast, and I know you probably think I’m an idiot. Maybe I am. But I wouldn’t have agreed to go if I didn’t … if I didn’t think that we …” 

You didn’t know exactly what to say - or even how to articulate what you were feeling. If I say that I think I love him, she’ll lose it.  “You own a house. You have a good job. Your friends and family and life are here. Are you just going to leave all that for him? You’ve known this man for less than a year, and have been … are you even dating? You’ve been dating him for less than two months, and… where is Mandalore? I’ve never even heard of it.” 

“We’re not at that point yet. I’m just going to visit for a week. No one’s talking about me quitting or selling a house or leaving for good.” Yet. There was a lump in your throat, but you cleared it away, swallowing. “I don’t care what his title is. He’s a good guy, Mom. Smart. Funny. Nice. And this isn’t an ideal situation because of timing, but if I just let him go and pretend like I don’t care, or it doesn’t bother me? I’ll regret it.” Your eyes filled with tears and you brought the back of the hand that wasn’t holding hers up to press it against your lips, biting down on one knuckle. “I wouldn’t ever forgive myself for letting him walk away.” 

“Then don’t.” She pulled her hand from yours and flattened both of them on the tabletop, letting out a deep sigh. “If that’s really how you feel, you can’t ignore it. You’ve seemed … happier since the competition started, and if you care about him as much as it seems like you do, then…” She tilted her head back and swore, her eyes on the ceiling. “Then we can’t stop you. All I can do is tell you to be realistic about the way this might work out.” 

“I know.” You felt relief - and at the sound of laughter from the other room, your eyebrows rose, your gaze drifting from your mother and to the doorway. Well that sounds promising. You’d thought that your father would be the one that Din had to work hard to win over, but you’d been wrong. It’ll be fine. “He’s a great guy, Mom. You should see him with Grogu.” 

“Well maybe sometime I will.” She stood, staring at you before she placed both hands on her hips. “If he comes back.” He will. He has to. He’ll have to pack. But you didn’t say anything else, instead giving her a smile and a nod. 

“Thank you for understanding.” Biting your lower lip, you pointed at the doorway. “Want to go back in there?” 

— 

You stayed at your parents’ for another hour and a half, the six of you talking in the living room for almost the whole time. Din filled your relatives in on the proper protocol in case anyone asked questions about you, telling them to use their best judgment about what they revealed. It might not even come to that, though. If Bo-Katan is going to try and make me look bad, she could talk to James, and… 

There would be a difficult adjustment period ahead for everyone involved, even if you and Din decided that continuing things between you wasn’t the right call. And we’ll deal with it as it comes. That’s all we can do. 

Din sat in the passenger seat as you drove, the man’s elbow resting against the windowsill. “That went well.” He sighed. “Better than I expected it to, anyway.” 

“Really?” You stopped at a red light, turning your head to look at him. “My mom all but begged me not to go with you when she and I were in the kitchen because I don’t know you well enough to make that kind of decision.” He smiled, the dimple in his cheek deep. 

“How’d you convince her?” His other hand was on your knee,the man’s palm covering most of it. “Your dad was surprisingly … receptive to the idea of you coming with me, which isn’t what I thought would happen.” As you started driving again, the tires spinning briefly on the slushy street, you sighed out an agreement.

“I told her that I know that this isn’t a typical situation, but that if I let you go back to Mandalore without seeing what could happen with us, I’d regret it. And that even if it is a mistake because it doesn’t work out and I get hurt… it’s my mistake to make.” Dropping one hand to rest on top of his, you squeezed. “Our mistake to make.” 

“It’s not a mistake.” He spoke so quietly that you almost didn’t hear him, but it was impossible to ignore the way he flipped his hand over, linking your fingers together. “But I’d regret it, too.” 

Both of you were silent the final few minutes it took to get to his house - but Din didn’t let go of your hand until you were parked, headlights shining against the closed garage. “I can come in for a little while, Din, but I need to go home and pack. I have to figure out what to bring with me, and put a hold on my mail, and -” He nodded, reaching up to brush his fingertips over your chin. “There’s a lot to do and I know I have all day tomorrow, but I don’t want to forget anything.” 

“We do have stores in Mandalore.” He arched a brow. “Lots of them, actually.” He leaned in. “Some of them even sell clothes.” You laughed at that, the sound bursting out as you rolled your eyes. “But I get it.” Jerking his chin toward the house, Din wet his lips. “Let’s go inside. I’ve gotta let the womp rat out, and I’m going to need you to tell me what to do with that tree since we’re going to be gone and it’s going to die, so…” 

I didn’t even think of that. You got out of the car, locking it as the two of you headed for the front door. The sound of Grogu’s excited barks from inside made you grin, and the moment you stepped into the hallway, he made sure you knew how happy he was that you were back. 

Din let him out into the yard while you took your coat and shoes off, your fingertips trailing along the wall as you headed for the kitchen. “You’ll probably want to put the tree outside tomorrow, Din. Take the lights and ornaments off, and then set the tree out on the deck, unless you want to come back to it and have pine needles all over the floor.” Stopping next to the table, you eyed the shape of the tree, though it wasn’t plugged in. “I can help you tonight if you want, it won’t take long.” 

“We just put it up.” He stepped behind you, arms going around your upper body and pulling you back and against him. “Will it be alright if I just unplug it? I don’t mind cleaning up the needles, but taking it all apart now just seems … unnecessary.” 

“If you want.” Sighing, you closed your eyes and focused on the way his breathing felt, the rise and fall of his chest steady. “I just wanted to warn you since you’ve never had a tree before.” With a low hum, you turned in his arms to face him, one hand rising to touch his cheek. “Thank you for today. Thank you for going. Thank you for being so -” 

That was as far as you got, Din’s mouth meeting yours to silence you mid-sentence. You kissed him without hesitation, the hand at his cheek sliding back so that you could grip his hair. It wasn’t a deep kiss, but it was familiar, the man’s lips closing around your lower one and drawing it between them, the tip of his tongue pressed against it before he backed off. 

“You don’t have to thank me, but you’re welcome.” He smiled, hands landing on your biceps and squeezing. “I’m going to go let him in, and then you can give him his present, ok? I moved both of them downstairs.” I’d like that. He gave you a final squeeze and then let go, stepping away and then toward the door. You followed, letting Din head to the sliding door as you looked for the wrapped presents.

They were sitting on a small table next to the couch, but before you picked them up, you switched the tree on, the tiny lights twinkling from between the branches. I wish I had more to give him, this seems… like nothing. At the sound of Grogu yipping, you turned your attention to the door. You watched as the dog ran inside, shaking his entire body to fling off lingering snowflakes. “Does it ever snow in Mandalore, Din?” Grinning, you pointed at his tiny body. “Because I think he’d mss it if it didn’t.” 

“Sometimes.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. “Nothing like this, though. You’d have to go a couple hours away from the bigger cities to find real snow, so maybe that’s what we’ll do next year.” Grogu sniffed at your legs, nudging into them a few times. “He does really seem to like it, though.” Wait a minute. 

“You said he saw snow last summer, though?” Din nodded as he turned away from you, taking the few steps toward the fireplace before he knelt down in front of it, beginning to prep logs inside. “So does that mean you didn’t go to -”

“I went back to Mandalore, but we weren’t at the palace the whole time. Boba has … I guess you could call it a summer place, but really, it’s just where he goes when he needs some time away. It’s probably where he’ll end up after he steps down, actually.” He crinkled up a few pieces of newspaper, stuffing them between the wood. “He and I - and Grogu - went last summer to have some privacy, and there were a couple inches of snow in a few places.” Makes sense. 

Din used a long lighter to ignite the paper, staying put while he made sure that the logs were going to catch. When he was satisfied, he stood and wiped his hands on his thighs, looking at you. “You did that fast. I’m impressed.” 

“One of my many skills.” He grinned. “Figured it would be nice to have it going even if you’re not staying long.” It was nice - the crackling flames paired with the lights and the hint of pine in the air reminded you of many previous holidays. But this one, I’m with … him. “Going to grab those?” He pointed at the gifts. 

“Oh. Yeah.” Shaking your head, you reached for the table, picking up Grogu’s present and then stacking Din’s atop it before you moved to sit on the couch - much like you had the first time you visited. “You didn’t seen too worried about him getting into anything at the street fair, so I just … grabbed a little of everything.” Din sat next to you, snapping his fingers to get the dog’s attention. But he didn’t call out to him, instead turning his head toward you and lifting a brow. Oh, he wants me to… “Grogu, come.”  

“K’olar.” Leaning over so that he could whisper it into your ear, you felt his lips move against your skin. “K’olar.” 

“K’olar, Grogu.” Heart pounding, you tried to pronounce the word the same way he did, and were rewarded with an immediate response, the dog closing the distance to you before he lowered himself into a sitting position by your feet - head cocked to the side and his tongue lolling out of his mouth. “Well aren’t you cute.” 

Your smile grew as you pulled the bow off of the colored plastic around the basket, the dog’s head tilted enough to follow the movement. His tail began to wag the second the contents became visible - and when he could smell them better. But he stayed put, tail thumping against the floor.

“You’re going to spoil him.” Din leaned forward, eyeing the basket. “Where did -” You took the ball out first, holding it up and letting Grogu sniff it before you set it on the table.

“Went to Peli’s store. She had everything there. But,” you continued as you dug deeper into the basket, fingers closing around the bag of jerky. “I got him stuff that she recommended. More of those frogs. Some jerky. A big bone.” You held that up, your smile growing as Grogu got to his feet, his excitement apparent as he shuffled back and forth in place. “It’s all honestly just snacks and one toy, but -” Grogu sniffed the bone, his tongue appearing as he licked it once. “Can I let him have it?” Din nodded and you held it out closer, Grogu’s mouth opening so that he could close his teeth around the treat. “There you go, pal.” 

You let go, eyes on him as he carried it across the room and plopped down in front of the tree, getting comfortable as he dug into what he’d just been given. “He’s very food motivated.” Din rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m just glad he likes it.” The two of you watched the dog for a few seconds, but then you reached forward and began to repack the basket, lingering on the rounded surface of the sphere. “Will you have room to take all of his stuff with you? I didn’t know when you’d be leaving when I bought this, and -”

“Yes.” Din’s hand settled on your leg, his touch comforting. “Plenty of room. I could take everything in this house that wasn’t furniture, and I’d still have room on the plane.” He paused. “I probably should have told you that before. You can bring whatever you want with you, too. As much as you need.” Good to know. 

As the moment of truth drew closer, you realized that you were nervous for Din to open his gift. 

What you bought had felt right at the time, but the more you thought about it, the more you were unsure. He might not even want it.  “So.” Clearing your throat, you reached for Din’s present, using both hands to lift the box. “I didn’t want to do too much, because I didn’t want … I don’t know. I didn’t want it to seem like I was trying too hard, but …” Just do it. “Here. Merry Christmas, Din.” 

He took the box from your hands and set it atop his thighs, the tips of his fingers running over the silver paper. “Did you wrap this?” Murmuring a yes, you took a deep breath as you watched him undo the ribbon, carefully pulling it to the side. It was silver - like the paper - but there was an iridescent sheen to it that made it look darker, and you’d chosen it because it reminded you of his jacket. But if I tell him, that’ll be weird. 

“What is this?” He stared over at you, wide eyed after pulling the paper off and opening the box beneath it to reveal the filled stocking, his name embellished on the cuff of it in festive, plaid fabric. “This is…”

“It’s a Christmas tradition. Mostly for kids, but I thought that since you’ve never had one, this would…” He traced the stitched-on letters of his name, Din’s lips curving upward and into a smile. “I just hope you like it.” 

“I already do.” He set the box and lid aside and then dipped his fingers into the stocking, lifting the smaller wrapped box out first. “Should I open this now, or wait?” 

“That can be last.” Wetting your lips, you gestured with one hand. “Go ahead and look through the other stuff.” 

Over the next few minutes, Din worked through the contents of the stocking methodically. He took his time with each item, laughing at the novelty socks that were printed with the lights and exclaiming over the snacks and gift card, even as you rolled your eyes and said that it was kind of pointless since you’d be leaving so soon. 

“Maybe we can stop on the way to the airport.” He turned his head to look at you, reaching up to scratch the side of his head. “And it’ll be perfect when I come back to pack the rest of this place up.” 

“You’re coming back to do that?” It surprised you - you figured he’d have someone to come and do it, especially with the increased visibility of being named as Boba’s successor. “You’ll have the time?” 

Din sighed, opening the tin of mints and popping one into his mouth before he spoke again. “Yes to both.” He paused again, frowning as he stared at Grogu, who was still chewing diligently on the large bone. “I won’t be back here for long, but there’s … a process that I’ll follow after my name is announced. It’ll probably be six months before I’m … before I become Mand’alor, if not longer.” I didn’t realize that it would be that long. “I’ll be able to come back. I might have security with me, but …” He looked around the room. “I’ll get to come back to Mistletoe to finish a few things.” 

“OK.” Closing your eyes, you nodded. “Well, then I look forward to seeing you then.” He moved closer, one arm winding around you and urging you to lean against him. “Din? What -”

“We’ve got to use that weekend getaway, right?” Really? “We won that together, and we’re using it together. I’ve never been to a brewery like that, and -”

You threw your arms around him, Din reacting with a surprised oof, though he didn’t move much, his return hug tight as you lowered your face to rest it against the crook of his neck. That’s something to look forward to. “

You thought I wasn’t going to be here for that?” He scoffed as you separated, rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t know. I figured you wouldn’t be able to. Even if you wanted to, I wasn’t sure … it would be possible.” 

“I’ll make it work.” He tilted his head to the right. “You’ll have to get used to having security, too. Probably as soon as your name is made public, actually.” What? “Just to be safe, especially with Bo-Katan as a variable, and…” That was something that you hadn’t considered, but it made sense. 

“Well if we can avoid that, I’d like to. I don’t know how well that will work out with work and …” You gestured to the room. “Life here, but if you think it’s necessary, I won’t fight you on it. I don’t think anybody here’s going to care, but you know more about this than I do.” His hand was slowly stroking up and down your arm, eyes focused on your face. For long moments, you just looked at each other, sitting in the silence of the cozy room. But he hasn’t opened his actual present. He needs to… “Din?” There was a quiet hum in reply, Din giving you a brief smile. “You still have a present to open.” 

“I do.” He didn’t move to reach for it, though. 

Instead, Din leaned forward, lips landing against the corner of your mouth and then moving in, pressing against yours and lingering. You wondered what was going on in his mind but didn’t dare to ask, because that would have meant breaking the kiss and leaning back. It would have meant ruining the moment and forcing him to explain - and you were content. Who wouldn’t be? 

You deepened the kiss then, the fingers of one hand curled against the back of his neck while the other gripped his thigh. Even though you couldn’t see it, you felt him smile as he parted his lips, the man just as eager as you. Good. That’s good. 

He withdrew first, nipping at your lower lip as he cleared his throat, and you couldn’t stop your quiet laugh, the sound changing to a contented hum as Din stared over at you. “What?” Reaching up, you touched your cheek. “Do I have something on my face?”

“I have something to tell you before I open this.” He took a deep breath, nodding. “It’s nothing bad it’s just…” Din’s eyes slid away from you and went to Grogu, yours following. The dog had given up on the bone - lowering his head to rest his chin atop it, eyes closed as he snoozed with it protectively between his paws. “I know that I said that we’ll see what happens in Mandalore and that I can’t promise you anything. I know that we… that you coming with me is just…to show you what my country is like, and so we’re together when Bo-Katan does whatever it is she’d going to do.” He paused, squeezing his eyes shut, and then Din opened them, looking down and reaching for your hands with both of his. This sounds serious. This sounds like … “But I really want you to want to stay.” 

His words - and the sincerity of his tone - hit you hard, your breath catching as his eyes met yours again. He looked younger and more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him, the crease between his brows deep. “I…” You squeezed his hands, thinking. “I wouldn’t have agreed to go with you if I didn’t think that staying was a possibility, Din.”

He relaxed slightly at the words, nodding once before you continued. “I understand what it means that you even invited me. I understand what it means that you’re going to … introduce me. But even if things were different and we were just going back to a normal situation? I’d still be taking it just as seriously. I’m going with you because of you and how I feel about you.” Tell him the whole truth. “And I know this is just a few days visit, but … I’ve thought about what might come next.”

“Next?” He shifted closer, keeping his fingers linked with yours. “What do you mean?”

“With my house, and my job, and figuring out what traveling between Mandalore and Mistletoe to visit friends and family might look like.” You sighed. “With what I would do in Mandalore while you did all of the leadership stuff, and if it’s legal for me to stay there as a non-resident, and -”

“Hey.” Din’s smile was wide, his cheeks round as his head moved slowly back and forth. “I’m glad to hear it, because I have, too.” He squeezed your left hand, the smile growing. “There are ways to make it all work, but we don’t have to figure that out yet, alright?” He leaned forward again, resting his forehead against yours. “This is just a visit. This is just to show you my life and to make sure I can keep you safe from whatever happens when your name and face go public.” He paused. “But I have the perfect set of rooms in the palace picked out for you, and a feeling that once you see Mandalore, you’ll love it.” 

It was your turn to laugh, eyes squeezed shut as you enjoyed his proximity. “Rooms in the palace, hmm? Is that where we’re staying when we go?” 

“No.” He sat back, easing his hold on your hands. “I’ll be splitting my time between the palace and my apartment while I get ready to take over, but for this week, it might be easier to keep under the radar by staying in my place and going there when we need to.” He said your name, his tone going serious again. “Boba and Fennec are working out logistics. I’ve gotten a couple messages from them today, so by the time we’re in the air, I’ll know more.” You nodded, still watching him, and then instead of answering, you reached for the wrapped package, handing it to the man. 

“Open.” He took it from you, his fingers closing around the box. “The longer you put it off, the more disappointed you’re going to be when you see what it is.” He laughed, rolling his eyes. 

“I doubt that.” Din slid one finger under the taped end of the box, carefully peeling the paper away. And he got closer to having it totally open, you felt your heartbeat quicken, teeth worrying your lower lip as you waited. “When did you get this?” 

“The day before the scavenger hunt.” You clasped your hands together, gaze flicking up and then back down. “Grogu’s were the last things I picked up, but your gift was the last actual present I bought.” 

He set the paper to the side, holding the box in one hand and reaching for it with the other, pulling the lid off. Here goes nothing. In the silence that followed you prepared yourself to explain - to tell Din why you’d chosen the gift you had. But it wasn’t necessary, Din’s grip on the box tightening before he set it down on the couch and then stood, reaching for you with both hands. 

You took them, letting Din pull you into a standing position before he bent down and picked the contents of the box up, tugging on your other hand to lead you toward the tree. He’s not saying anything. He’s … He kept silent as you stepped around Grogu, the dog opening one eye and peeking up at you, though he didn’t move. “Din?” 

It was little more than a whisper, but he slipped his hand free from yours and reached for one of the branches, pointing.  “How’s right here?” The anxiety disappeared entirely when you nodded, lifting one of your hands up to meet his. 

“Looks good to me.” You held the branch in place while Din slipped the silver ribbon around it, and then let go when he did, both of you stepping back at the same time. He slid an arm around your waist, pulling you closer - and then for long moments, you and Din just stared at the branches, both of you eyeing the new addition. 

“It looks like our cookies.” He spoke up first, his voice thick with emotion. “But the metal also looks like beskar, and -”

“It was the closest color I could find to it.” You wet your lips, tilting your head closer to his. “I did a little more research on Mandalore while I was shopping, and I know how important beskar is to you, but I couldn’t … I couldn’t find anything made of it on short notice, and -”

“You wouldn’t, especially here.” He took a deep breath, shifting in place beside you. “It’s very rare. And with the exception of our exports to the aerospace industry, beskar has to be … earned.” He pointed with his free hand, your eyes following the motion as the tiny lights bounced off of the shiny metal. “You wouldn’t have been able to engrave it like that, either. We have special forges and people that work with them that know how to manipulate the metal. The number of people that are able to to that is very small, so finding it for something like this is … almost impossible outside of Mandalore.” 

“Good to know.” You turned to face him, Din’s arm staying in place. “When we’re in Mandalore, will you show some to me?” You frowned. “Or is it all -”

“You’ve already seen and touched beskar.” Din’s smile grew, one brow arching. “The Mythosaur on Grogu’s collar is pure. It was my pendant first, but I wanted him to wear it. The royal Armorer has another one waiting for me when I get back to Mandalore, so you can come with me when I pick it up.”

“OK.” Agreeing, you blew out a breath. “I’d like that.” After a few seconds, you gestured to the tree, saying Din’s name softly. “I wanted you to have a memory of your time here, even if it was something small.” 

You’d looked through the mall for a long time that day for Din’s gift, but nothing has seemed right until you’d passed the kiosk near the food court. And normally, it would have been something you ignored as you walked by, but one of the ornament options caught your eye. 

There were three variations of snowflakes - each of them available in a variety of colors, including a gleaming silver metal. One of them was similar to the snowflake design that you’d chosen for your cookies, and the kiosk offered engraving. 

You kept it simple - First Mistletoe Christmas and the year in the center of the ornament, and then Din and Grogu’s names on two of the bottom branches, a blank one left between them to balance things out. 

“Even if you don’t have a tree next year, you can … I don’t know, keep it on a shelf in your room, and -”

“We’ll have a tree.” He leaned over, speaking directly into your ear. “And this will be the first thing I put on it … after the lights, of course.” You both laughed then, Din spinning you to face him so that he could hug you tightly again. “Thank you. It’s almost perfect.” Almost? What could - “You should have added your name to it, too.” 

You backed away from him immediately, eyes wild. “What? Why would… Din, that’s … we’re not … we weren’t…” But we are now. And we spent this whole Christmas season together, and … “It was for you and Grogu, and I thought … I didn’t know if …” 

“We can still add it.” He smiled, reaching forward to stroke his fingers over your cheek. “You gave me Christmas in the first place, Wero.” You wrinkled your nose at his use of your nickname, but nodded in agreement. If that’s what you want, ok. “I know that you said you needed to go home tonight, but … could I convince you to stay?” He tilted your head back, the frown reappearing. “You can leave early tomorrow morning to pack, but I’d really like it if you stayed here.” Din took a breath, his eyes on your face. “With us.”

The simple phrasing floored you, because you knew that with him, it was purposeful. He’d already included you in his unit with Grogu, even if at first it had just been a reflex. His invitation to Mandalore spoke volumes as to the fact that he wanted you in his life, but the use of us as a group that had previously only included him and the dog was telling. What did he called it? A clan of two? 

The decision wasn’t hard. 

“I want to stay.” You looked down, gesturing to your outfit. “I’ll have to go home tomorrow in this, because I didn’t bring anything, though. And this won’t exactly be comfortable to sleep in, but -”

“I think we can figure something out for you to sleep in.” He winked, a lopsided smile crawling up one cheek. “Or not.” You laughed loudly enough at that that Grogu’s head popped up, the dog looking between you and Din for a few seconds before he laid back down. 

“And you call me trouble, Din? I could say the same thing about you.” 

— 

On the morning of December 27th, you locked the door of your house behind you, one carry-on bag slung over your shoulder along with your purse. 

Din carried your other bag, his fingers tight around the straps. It was snowing again, the flakes light as they fell around you, and even though you were on a tight schedule, you took a few seconds to stop and glance up, smiling as the cool air kissed your cheeks. 

The closing of the SUV’s trunk drew your attention, and you watched as Din rounded the car, heading back for you. Wait, it’s not his. Why? “New car? Where’s the truck?”

“I didn’t have much choice.” He opened the door for you, shaking his head. “We’ve got a driver.” Oh. You climbed in, turning your head toward the back row of seats at the sound of Grogu’s tail thumping against them - and then slid over so that Din could get in next to you. “We’re going to that private airfield just outside of town, and I didn’t want to leave my truck there, so …” He shrugged. “A driver.” 

You leaned back against the comfortable seat just as Din’s arm slid around your shoulders, and as you backed out of the driveway, the reality of the situation set in. I’m going to Mandalore. I’m spending a week with him in his home, and I’m… You closed your eyes, turning your head toward his body. “How long is this flight anyway? I’ve been so busy packing, all I want to do is go back to sleep.” 

“Hours. Close to ten, I think. Plenty of time for you to nap.” He leaned closer, mouth moving over your ear. “There’s a bed on board.” You perked up at that, inhaling sharply. He wouldn’t have said anything unless… “You’ll be comfortable.” 

Neither of you talked much until you turned down the road to the airport, the tower and some of the planes coming into view. “I’ve never been on a private plane.” You leaned closer to the window, Din’s hand on your back. “Does Grogu get to ride with us, or does he have to be in a different area?” 

“With us. He’s got a crate that he has to be in for takeoff and landing, but he gets to roam if he wants.” Din sat straight up, too, clearing his throat. “As much as I’m not sure I want all of this, there are definitely some perks.” 

And you found that to be true only a few minutes later when the three of you made your way across the freshly cleared and salted tarmac toward the steps that led into the plane. Grogu ran up first, Din urging you to go next - and the second you stepped on board, you couldn’t hold back your response. 

“Holy shit, Din. This is …” You looked around, eyes traveling over the oversized, plush seats, small tables and screens that adorned the walls between the windows. Soft leather, thick carpet and tasteful decorations filled the plane, and at a second glance, you saw that both of your names were on the screens along with a welcome message. “Oh, man, Din. This … this is incredible. It’s beautiful, what is -”

“Good morning.” A young man stepped into the cabin from near the front of the plane, his outfit - a clean, black shirt with the Mythosaur logo on one shoulder and dark pants - standing out against the light colored interior of the plane. “If you could please stow any bags in the side drawers or in the sleeping quarters and then take your seats to prepare for takeoff, we can get underway.” He paused, holding up one finger. “I do need your passports, though, just to fill in the paperwork.”

You nodded immediately, reaching into your purse for your document before you handed it over, Din doing the same, though he handed over two booklets. Grogu’s got one too? Din tugged on your arm, urging you deeper into the plane, and as you walked through the cabin, your head was on a swivel, trying to take everything in.

There’s no way I’m going to be comfortable on a regular flight ever again. This is insane. Din shut the door behind you as you entered the bedroom, and another gasp left your lips. “This is ridiculous. A bed? A full bathroom? Din, there’s a damn shower on this -” 

He stepped forward, hands going to your waist. “I should have warned you. I’m sorry. This is …” 

“Din.” You reached up, holding a finger to his lips. “It’s going to take me a little while to process this. But.” You used your free hand to gesture around the bedroom. “It’ll be fine. Nothing you could have said would have prepared me for any of this, so don’t worry about that.” You wet your lips. “I still can’t believe I’m here, or that I get to spend a week with you there, and -”

“I can’t either.” He curled his fingers, pulling you closer. “But I’m happy.” He was dressed down - the man wearing a pair of thick sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, his hair air dried and curling over his ears. But he looked right at home in his surroundings, despite the fact that you’d never seen him in anything similar before. And Din was grinning, his excitement palpable. “And I hope you are, too.” 

“I am.” You let out a deep breath, squeezing his arms. “So kiss me, and then let’s go and sit down so we can take off, yeah?” Din contemplated your words for a few seconds and then leaned in, pulling you closer. 

“I can do that.” 

— 

He gripped your hips, staring up at you, and after only a few seconds, a smile crept over Din’s face. “You taking a break?” He dragged his thumbs slowly over your skin, his head moving to the side without him lifting it from the pillow. “Need me to -”

“Be quiet.” Circling your hips, you felt Din’s body stiffen beneath you, his stomach muscles tightening. “Just give me a second.” You took a breath and trailed your fingers up the center of his chest. “This is the first time I’ve ever had sex on a plane Din, so -”

“Me too.” You didn’t know why you’d assumed otherwise, but your eyes widened at his admission, the tips of your fingers curling inward and scraping against the skin beneath them. “But I think I like it.” He raised his hips off of the mattress, pushing deeper into you and you couldn’t bite back your moan, the sound loud, even over the quiet hum of the engines. “We should do it more often.” 

You began to rock your hips in earnest again, increasing your speed as you moved your hands into place so that you could brace yourself on his chest. Din’s legs were bent, supporting a little of your weight as you leaned back - and within seconds, you found your rhythm, Din’s hands gliding up your body and settling over your chest, fingers squeezing the muscle there. 

Watching him though hooded eyelids, you reached behind you to grip his legs, slowing your lower body down. The angle allowed him to go deep, Din sliding in and out of you with each roll of your hips. But it wasn’t until you shifted your angle again and lowered your body to take him all the way that you really began to appreciate the position, your mouth falling open in a surprised whimper. “Oh my… dank farrik, Din, you -” 

That did it - Din dropped his hands from your body and pushed into a sitting position before he reached for you again, one arm winding around your upper back, the other hand cradling the back of your skull and urging you into a deep kiss. You scrambled to wind your arms around him, too, wanting nothing more than to keep him close.

What did I do?

He licked into your mouth without restraint - fingers tightening as his tongue met yours, Din not breaking the kiss even as he eased you both back down so that his back was flat on the mattress, your upper-body weight settled against his chest. When he did eventually pull back for air, he groaned, the vibration traveling the length of his body. 

“I need to teach you more Mando’a.” So that was it. That makes sense. He kissed you again, his mouth leaving yours and then moving over to your ear before he sucked the lobe between his lips, holding it there. “Lay down. Gedet'ye. Please.” He spoke so quietly that you barely heard him, but with a quick nod, you agreed. 

Din reached between you to hold the end of the condom in place as you pulled off of him and then laid down next to the man, head turned to the right. Ok, I did what he asked… now he can… Din moved gracefully - rolling toward you and then hooking his leg over one of yours, both hands pulling you back to the center of the bed as he knelt above you.

Without speaking, he used one hand to urge the knee he wasn’t straddling into a bent position, his palm dragging over your thigh before he reached forward and grabbed a pillow with his other hand. “Lift.” You did, giving him room to slide the pillow beneath you - and once it was settled, your hips elevated, Din inched forward, moving one knee so that he was between both of your legs again. 

He lined himself up as your entrance as he laid a hand on your bent kneecap. You nodded and then dropped your gaze, watching as he slid back in - but Din didn’t give you a chance to get used to the feeling. 

Instead, he immediately picked up the pace, one hand on your hip, the other still on your knee - and when you cried out at a particularly deep thrust, he moaned, bending over and adjusting his hands so that he could take yours without stopping the motion of his hips. Holy shit. Holy shit this is … fuck. 

He slid your joined hands up the mattress and crushed his mouth to yours again, the kiss messy and almost desperate - but no less passionate. 

You hadn’t been with him more than a handful of times, but you felt as he got closer to the edge, Din’s thrusts changing in intensity so that he was almost stroking into you, and when you widened the spread of your bent legs, you gasped into his mouth, the sound turning into his name, though he swallowed it quickly, never faltering in his movement. 

The changed position meant that with each motion, he was dragging the dampened curls at his base and on his lower belly over your sensitive skin, the heat from your bodies radiating between you. I’m going to come like this. I’m going to … he’s… 

You were determined to get Din off before yourself, though, and after another low moan, you broke the kiss, turning your head to the side so that you could whisper into his ear, the man’s roots damp when you moved one hand up and tangled your fingers into his hair. “Right there, Din. Yes. Please.” You sighed, racking your brain, and then you hummed. “Gedet’ye.” 

He cried out - the sound louder than any that you’d previously made, and when his hips stuttered, you weren’t surprised. Din came with a series of quick, powerful thrusts of his hips, emptying inside of you as he mouthed along the top of your shoulder and the curve where your neck met your collarbone, the edges of his teeth scraping over the thin skin. 

You felt his teeth - but weren’t worried that he’d leave marks or actually hurt you, especially when Din pulled his mouth away and mumbled your name, releasing his hold on one hand to put it back between your bodies. What is he… 

That question was answered only moments later, when he backed his hips off enough so that he was still inside of you, but there was room for his hand between your bodies, fingers working deftly to pull you past the point of no return, too. “Din.”

You rocked your hips upward, seeking more friction and pressure from his hand, and when you got it, you nodded, the fabric of the pillowcase crinkling beneath your head as you turned it to the side, eyes squeezed shut. 

“No, come on. Look at me.” He sighed, thumb continuing to circle over your skin. “Let me see you.” You made eye contact with him, Din’s expression in the low light of the bedroom cabin easy to read. He looked satisfied and content, the spark of desire in his eyes turning your core into liquid metal, and that was all it took. 

You came hard around him, your knees locking into place against his hips as your back arched off of the bed, one hand fisting the blankets and the other curled tight against the top of Din’s thigh. You held his gaze for as long as you could, wanting to give him what he’d asked for, but when he didn’t stop the motion of his fingers, you had to close your eyes, mouth falling open as your muscles tightened a second time - surprising both of you. 

“Fuck, Din.” When you were finally able to speak, your voice was shaky, both eyes cracking open as he eased away from you, his hand the last thing to leave your body almost as though he was unwilling to stop touching you. “How am I supposed to get up after that?”

“Not sure.” He stretched out next to you, one arm rising to cover his eyes as he pushed his shoulders back and resettled his hips, causing the mattress to shift. “But I don’t know that I can get out of bed, either.” 

You both needed to - you needed to clean yourselves up and then get dressed, to make yourselves presentable for landing, to have a final conversation about what was expected of you once you were on the ground. But I don’t want to. I just want to…

Instead of climbing out of the bed, you rolled toward Din, draping your arm across his chest and nuzzling against the side of his neck. “Well then let’s stay here for a few minutes, alright?” 

He mumbled something that you couldn’t make out, and as your breathing calmed, his did, too - Din’s chest rising and falling, his head turning toward yours so that his chin rested against your forehead. Just a few minutes, and then we’ll get dressed and go back out into the main section of the plane. 

— 

But you woke hours later, the lights in the room dimmed, and Din still sleeping next to you. Whoops. 

With one final deep breath, you rolled away from him and toward the edge of the bed, swinging your feet onto the floor. There was a throw blanket on the ground and you reached for it, holding it up to cover your chest before reaching out to push the blinds up, not knowing what to expect. 

It wasn’t just clouds that you could see - there were lights, too, pinpricks of gold and silver far below you. It wasn’t like flying over the United States, where everything looked like a grid, cities and towns connected by winding highways and arranged in haphazard patterns until you got close to the big ones. 

What was beneath you were multiple brightly light places, each of them arranged into neat, well-illuminated circles. There were smaller bursts of color between them, your eyes moving between the geometric shapes and the scattered lights, lips parted. It’s beautiful. There’s so much open space, I wonder where we are. I - 

You felt him moving before he said anything to you. Din wrapped himself around you from behind, the skin of his broad chest warm against your back. “We fell asleep.” He spoke as he settled his chin on your shoulder, arms tight around your body. “And we…” He trailed off, and when he continued his sentence, you understood why. “There it is.” 

He tilted his chin down and kissed your shoulder again, one hand slipping beneath the blanket to splay his fingers across your abdomen, the man’s hold almost possessive. You knew the answer, but asked anyway. “Din? Is that …” 

“That’s Mandalore. You’ll be able to see Sundari in a few minutes. We’re home.” 

— 

Gedet'ye = please

--- 

Tag list coming soon!

--- 

Thank yous: 

When I started this story thanks to a reader vote last year, I thought I’d be able to wrap it up pretty quickly - but as is the case with most of my stuff, that turned out to be untrue, and here we are 8 months later and finally getting a true ending. 

I’m going to miss these two (three, because I cannot forget about Grogu) - but I’m definitely open to revisiting them in the future, so if you have questions or thoughts or ideas, please feel free to send them over! 

I want to thank everyone that took the time to read, comment, reblog or message me about this story. It was so much fun to talk with you about it, and I hope you’re satisfied with this ending - and that you all feel that it’s ‘right’ for them. 

Thank you to the people that let me bounce plot points and ideas off of them - especially @the-blind-assassin-12, who was INSTRUMENTAL in many BKK decisions and choices for Grogu. 

Thank you to the people that made artwork for this - @valkblue​ and @guiltypleasure-art​ specifically, because those pieces were perfect. 

I don’t know that I can top this one with the 2023 Christmas story on this blog - but I’ll definitely try. Thank all of you endlessly for the support throughout this story and all of my others. I love you all very much. 

[little-diable]

All I Want for Christmas is You - Jasper Hale (smut)

Happy 3rd of Advent! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader is waiting for Jasper to return home, allowing her to spend some time with her best friend Charlie, though the second her mate returns home, she finds herself yearning for his touch.

Warnings: 18+, smut, p in v, shower sex, Christmas fluff

Pairing: Jasper Hale x human!fem!reader (1.3k words)

Christmas Drabble Masterlist

header by @hidingsikki

divider by @firefly-graphics

I don't want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need

It was dark by the time (y/n) found herself waving at Charlie, staring at the man with a smile tugging on her lips. Music echoed through the evening, allowing the two to wander through the streets of Forks with their minds and souls yarning for that special Christmas atmosphere. 

“Are you excited for Christmas?” (Y/n) murmured her words, not wanting to rip Charlie out of the trance he kept wandering through. It was the first time in weeks he was smiling, still not used to living without Bella around, probably even doubting his abilities as her father, hoping that he had done the right thing. 

“I guess so, what about you, doll?” She interlinked their arms, pulling the man she had always loved like a father closer, grateful to feel him near. Charlie had always been right there for her, the one she could trust, the one she could cling to when her nights grew darker, a friendship she fostered as if her life depended on it.

“I have a feeling it will be rather chaotic, but I am looking forward to it.” With another smile shot Charlie’s way, (y/n) kept pulling him down the street, greeting neighbours and old friends. And yet, while the two of them kept wandering about, admiring the Christmas market, she couldn’t help but long for Jasper. 

He had been gone for the past days, out hunting with most members of their family, needing to feed before Christmas would roll upon them. A day shared with Charlie, with friends that were oblivious to the poison thumping through the Cullen's veins. She could only hope that they’d make it back to Forks soon, needing to give into the longing she felt, the emotion that left her breathless whenever Jasper popped up in her thoughts. 

“Are you alright?” Charlie’s raspy voice reverberated through her body like an echo, forcing her to let go of her darkening thoughts. She could only nod at him, hoping to distract herself further as she followed Charlie into the bookstore, squeezing his arm before she disappeared down the rows. 

I don't care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree

Deep down she couldn’t wait for Christmas to roll upon them, hoping that the celebration will manage to distract them all from the world outside, the daily struggles they kept facing, the endless questions about the next step of their lives. All of them knew that eventually they may have to say goodbye to Forks, to the life they’ve built here, once again forced to start anew. And yet, while the Cullen’s were used to changing up their routine, (y/n) couldn’t help but feel uneasy about it. 

She’d follow Jasper to the end of this very world, nevertheless, she was still human, and was still clinging to the life she had been born into. It wouldn’t be easy to bid this part of her life goodbye, forced to pack her things and leave, at least if she wanted to stay around her mate. Forever one, till the day this very life may end, an oath she’d take to grave. 

The sound of her phone going off ripped (y/n) out of her thoughts, gaze snapping down to the bright screen. And with a smile tugging on her lips, she pushed the device back into her bag, making her way to Charlie with hurried steps. With a hug shared and a few words exchanged, she found herself making her way home, urged on by the excitement thumping through her veins. 

“Hi,” she murmured the word as Jasper pulled her car door open, not able to wait till she stepped out of it to pull her in for a bruising kiss. Her laughter vibrated on his lips, forcing the man to smile against her lips, not daring to let her go after days apart. Only a few sweet nothings were shared as he pulled her inside, helping her out of her big jacket and the snow covered scarf she was wearing. 

“Do you want to shower together? I can barely feel my limbs.” With a smirk tugging on his lips, Jasper pulled her into her bathroom, kissing her whenever another piece of clothing found its way to the ground, exposing their bodies one by one - the pale skin of his she has kissed numerous times before, the body of hers he claimed whenever he got the chance to. A mixture so lethal, both couldn’t help but thank whoever had planned for their paths to cross for bringing them together. 

“I missed you, darlin’.” Jasper’s words were almost drowned out by the hot water cascading down their frames, and yet she was able to perfectly pick up on every vowel, repeating the words with her lips pressed against his, silently begging him to keep on touching her. Cold hands wandered along her sides, teasing her before he finally gave in and cupped her heat, touching her pulsing bundle of nerves, pulling her in even closer. 

“My needy girl, can’t even go a week without being touched by me.” Her moans clawed through her like a silent scream begging to be heard before she could drown. But there was no saving, at least no saving she was as desperate for as his touch. His hands let go of her only to wrap one leg around his waist, allowing him to brush the tip of his cock through her arousal-covered folds, begging him to fill her, to remind her of the addicting sensation they were lusting for.

I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know

Their moans echoed through the bathroom as he pushed into her, not holding back to leave his marks on the body he found himself thinking of when the night grew dark and the moon was hiding behind thick clouds. She was everything he had been desperate for those past decades, everything Jasper needed to survive the life that won’t end for centuries to come. 

“Oh, fuck,” the words rolled off her tongue, and yet (y/n) couldn’t focus on what she wanted to express, mind fogged up by clouds of lust, guiding her through the thicker growing fog. Jasper didn’t hold back, hands tightening their grip on her frame, not daring to let her go as she buried her face in the crook of his neck, fingernails buried in his skin. 

She was trembling against him, begging him to fuck her through her arising high, set on feeling his warmth spread through her. Jasper pushed her back against the cold shower tiles, hand pushed flat against them to brace himself as he picked up his pace, watching her fall apart. 

Her moans grew louder with every thrust meeting her core, cock buried deep inside of her. Jasper didn’t stop till he felt her growing weak, having to stabilise her frame as he followed her down the edge, letting go with a deep moan rumbling through him. He didn’t let go of her, kept her close as he pressed a kiss against her scalp, smiling down on her with a loving smile. 

Make my wish come true, baby, all I want for Christmas is you

[lyra-brie]

Reddit does this thing where they try to crash a charity site by donating too much once a year

TL;DR: here's a super cool charity that gives gifts to foster kids, donate if you can or reblog to signal boost.

The charity is One Simple Wish, where you send money to pay for things for kids in foster care. There are over 500 thousand kids in foster care each year just in the United States, and 22 thousand of those kids will age out alone without stable conditions and with little resources and knowledge to survive.

One Simple Wish helps by allowing you to grant a wish for a foster kid or former foster youth, which could be anything from a new pair of shoes for Christmas to helping former foster youth stock their pantries to bed frames and bikes. And you get to leave them a note that shows how much you care. A lot of these are expensive though, so you also have the option of donating any amount of money you're able to directly to the charity.

Are we going to let Reddit be better at this than us? Sure, we can be known as the site that creates a fandom for a nonexistent movie. That's awesome, and I love it. But we could also be known as the site that was better than reddit at breaking this charity's website by donating so much their servers were overloaded.

This doesn't mean we have to grant every wish possible and spend hundreds of dollars each. If we all rally together, giving whatever we can, even if that's only two or three dollars for you, we can do this. And if you can't give anything, that's fine, too. Reblog and boost this post. Tell your friends. Spread the word.

Most of these kids just want something special for Christmas because they don't have much. Can we help them get that?

And if for whatever reason, you don't want to donate to them, my next reccomendation is @sharonsaysso on insta. She's holding her holiday giving drive, where her followers have donated over 500 thousand dollars to help people in need over the past few days. Her community over there is wonderful, too. Her drive is only lasting a few more days, though, so you have to donate fast for hers.

So what do you say guys? Can we work together one step at a time to make the world a little bit better (and to beat reddit at this)? Click here to go donate or grant a wish.

If you do end up donating, feel free to reblog this or make your own post and tag me, so we can all celebrate each other's contributions, no matter how big or small. So far, I've granted a $100 wish for a kid named Haley to get a hoverboard for Christmas and $50 a few days ago for Sharon.

[radical-revolution]

If you’re NOT looking forward to the holidays and the new year, please know, there’s nothing wrong with you.

It’s normal to feel ambivalent, down, uncertain, confused, numb and detached from it all.

It’s normal to feel abnormal.

If you feel angry, bored, full of sorrow or grief this Christmas, you are not alone.

If you don’t feel like participating.

If you have a ‘no’ to spending time with certain people or engaging in certain rituals.

If you can’t repress, cover up or ignore your pain any longer this holiday season.

If you feel like a total MESS in the presence of the MESSiah.

There’s nothing wrong with you.

You are not wrong for being ‘not like the others’.

There’s never anything ‘wrong’ with you.

(‘Wrong’ is just a magic spell we learnt as kids, a powerful word that does great damage if it’s not wielded with care.)

If you don’t believe in all the religious myths and legends or if they leave you feeling cold.

If this new year you don’t feel like celebrating, and you’re not exactly looking forwards to the year to come.

If you are processing deep pain and trauma, especially where it relates to your family, and you need space and time away from them.

If you feel like curling up into a ball, and waiting for all the noisy ‘celebrations’ to be over.

If you don’t feel like pretending to love - or even like - certain people.

There is nothing wrong with you.

Remember, you are a unique and original creation of the divine.

And you can love someone without wanting to see them.

And your sensitive and vulnerable heart is crying out for strong loving boundaries to protect and honour it.

What is healthy, or fun, or right for others is not necessarily what is healthy, fun, or right for you, at this time in your life, considering what you’ve been through, considering the difficult path you have been walking.

This holiday season, let yourself be unique, one-of-a-kind, a total original.

It’s brave to be yourself when there is such a strong pull to be someone else in order to please others, or not let them down, or just ‘keep the peace’.

We 'keep the peace' - but at what cost to our sanity?

This holiday season, give yourself a real holiday.

Whatever you choose to celebrate, or not celebrate...

Happy holidays, friends!

(And yes, you can totally celebrate your lack of celebrations!)

— Jeff Foster

[bebepac]

Holiday Vibes 🎄

I am participating in @choicesficwriterscreations  holiday event 2022.  

I am also participating in @choicesflashfics prompt #21 “it looks like Santa threw up in here.” will appear in bold

I am also participating in  @choicesholidays​ prompt well that’s the holiday spirit which is the overall theme of this story.

Series: School Dayz

The Book:  TRR (no royals) 

Pairings: Liam x Riley

Word Count: 1036

Song Inspiration:  Silent Night by the Temptations

Warnings and Ratings:  None. Everyone.  A total fluff piece.

Original Post: 12/18/22 at 10:45PM EST.

“Thanks for driving me to the mall today, and driving me around when Jaiden can’t.”

“It’s no problem, and I like driving you around, makes me feel manly. Like i'm a super boyfriend.”  

Liam’s face turned bright pink.  

“I…..said that out loud didn’t I?”

“You did but it’s okay. And you are a ‘Super Boyfriend.’ I like that you’re always adorkably honest with me.”

The smile faded from her face and her face was replaced with a serious look.

“You know, the car accident sliding on the ice during the storm really scared me Liam.”

“I know it did, but I’m glad you and Taylor were okay.  When I saw your Jeep…. My heart stopped, Riley. I was so worried you were hurt.”

Liam took her hand and held it.  

“I’m okay.  It means a lot that you care so much.”

Riley gently squeezed his hand in return.  She still had bruising to the side of her face, and arm because when they skidded out of control, Taylor wasn't wearing her seatbelt, and Riley reached out to hold Taylor back, when the airbags deployed.

“I just want you to know I do, and I’ll drive you around as long as you need me to or want me to.”

“Thank you Liam.”

“You’re welcome.  So what’s on the agenda for the rest of the afternoon?”  

“Well if you want to hang out with us for a bit, we might be doing some Christmas tree decorating.  Dad said you could stay for dinner.”  

“That sounds nice.  He’s warming up to me, don’t you think?”

“Yeah maybe he is.  I mean as much as my dad can warm  up to people.”

When they pulled to a stop in front of the Brooks’s residence Riley laughed at the look on Liam’s face.

“Whoa…. Looks like Mr. Brooks has been busy.”  

“Dad loves Christmas, it is by far his favorite holiday.”

When they left the Brooks household that morning, there was no Christmas decor up. Coming back that evening the yard was filled with Christmas decorations 

and the house had been strung with lots of Christmas lights.  

Liam grabbed some of Riley’s shopping bags to assist her bringing them inside.  No one appeared to be nearby, so Liam spoke freely.

“Whoa…. It looks like Santa threw up in here.” 

And the Brooks family came out the woodworks like ninjas, starting with Mr. Brooks.

“No Liam, tell me how you feel about our Christmas decorations.” 

Taylor burst out laughing from the couch as Mr. Brooks stepped out into the foyer holding yet another a string of Christmas lights.

“Damn Liam. You just like stepping on landmines don’t you?”

“Jai! Language!”  Mrs. Brooks exclaimed.

“I’m sorry. I’m just not used to a lot of Christmas decorations. My family doesn’t really do holidays like this.  I think it’s really nice.”  

Ren affectionately rubbed Mr. Brooks’s shoulders.  

“Jason and I grew up in the foster care system, and holidays were hard when you were living in foster homes at the holidays.  We both vowed if we ever had families, we would celebrate.  It’s very important to us.  So we always go all out.”  

“Wow, I really meant no disrespect with what I said.”  

“It’s okay Liam. Go help Riley put her presents away in her room, and you can come back and help us decorate.”  

Liam hurried and helped Riley put her gifts in her closet to hide them and almost ran back down stairs to  the living room area.  He looked excited to be helping with decorating the Christmas tree.

“That’s some very meticulous placing of the Christmas ornaments Liam.  I could almost take a ruler to those and i’m sure their spacing would be identical.”  

“I don’t want to mess the tree up Mr. Brooks.”

“You can’t mess decorating a Christmas tree up.  At least not on my year.  I like bright colorful trees.  So does Taylor.”

He pointed to the box of ornaments.  There were so many different colored ornaments and trinkets in the box.  “We bring out the crazy.  Next year is Ren and Riley’s year,  they like a silver and gold tree with white lights.”

“And Jaiden, what about you? What type of tree do you like?” Liam asked Jaiden.

“I don’t care either way, as long as there are presents for me under said tree.”

“Seems legit.”  

Mrs. Brooks had disappeared from the decorating and had been in the kitchen for a little bit and emerged from the kitchen with a tray sitting down first a tray of cookies, then coming back shortly with a tray of cups of hot cocoa.  Mr. Brooks was still admiring their handiwork.  

“I think it’s time.”  

Ren looked at Jai.  “You know what to do.”  

“I’m on it Mom.”

As the lights in the living room started to dim slowly, Jason’s favorite Christmas song started  playing over the living room surround sound.  It was never officially Christmas in the Brooks’s household unless he heard The Temptation’s version of Silent Night.    

When the song hit its iconic first verse, the Brooks’s living room, the Brook's tree erupted with colorful light.

There was silence for a few moments while Jason wrapped his arm around Ren sipping some cocoa.

"This was a good one, Ren."

"You're right it is. Liam, you did a good job."

"Thank you sir."

After dinner Mr. Brooks pulled Liam aside.

"Yes sir?"

"What are you doing for Christmas, Liam?"

His face turned bright pink.

"Nothing, my Dad will be away, it's going to be just me and Leo. The cooks will make us dinner."

"What does your father do for a living Liam?"

"He's a corporate lawyer. They call him Constantine the Cutthroat."

"Sounds like he's a great lawyer."

"He is. Just a crappy father."

Jason looked at Liam sympathetically.

"You and your brother have plans now.  You're spending Christmas Eve and Day with us."

"Seriously Dad?!?!"

"We'll have plenty of food, and it's the least we can do, because Liam refuses to take gas money to chauffeur you around."

"Thank you Dad."

Riley hugged Jason.

"You're welcome, Jelly Bean."

When Riley's dad left the room, she turned to Liam with a huge smile.

"See! you were right, my Dad is warming up to you. This is huge."

Liam smiled back at her.  It was a bittersweet moment for Liam, but deep down the excitement outweighed the sadness. This was going to be the first Christmas he would really be celebrating since the passing of his mother.

[coffeexdreamcb]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 𝐷𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑦 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑦 #1

[ 28th August 2024 ]

Dear diary...

Summer is always one of my favourite times of the year because the drinks are always a hit and have you ever been to Waterbomb? Best festival ever!

I recently celebrated my one year of opening the store and did a wonderful event for it, it went off without a hitch! It was really nice to have those who love and care for me to come and visit! Having a new staff member has been helping so much which means I can also take time off work, isn't that great? I actually can do things instead of being stuck at the counter!

What else have I done?

There's so many things that I have been doing, not really but little things! I redecorated the apartment with help and now I have these adorable flowerpots outside of my windows so that during the warmer seasons, I can wake up to pretty colours. I've been glamping a bit more because it was really fun with Heeseung that I just have to do it more and more!

I fostered a puppy for a little bit and while I did enjoy it, I know I do not have the energy for a puppy!

For the rest of the year, I think I'll figure out what to do for the Christmas rush. I want to get a head start on it this time so I'm not panic baking over the December period. Halloween is coming up too! I better get ready! Wow! Okay! So much to do!!

Where has this year gone?

[amberlide]

Garreth Weasley head-canons

As I already did Natty and Leander, here we go with Garreth. I am a bit hesitant on these as I know many people have their own, but these are personal and related to my fanfiction.

Be nice <3

Sibling Relationships:

Garreth has two older brothers: Edmund and Oliver, and two younger siblings: Charlotte and Hector.

His favorite brother is Edmund, who always tastes his home-made brews. However, after an incident involving Gillyweed, Edmund has become a bit more hesitant.

Family Dynamics:

Garreth is sweet and caring, attributes fostered by a close-knit family. Coming from a modest background, taking care of each other is paramount, especially with two younger siblings relying on him.

First year at Hogwarts was difficult as he was not used to called his aunt Prof. Weasley but rather Aunt Millie. This gained an infinite hours of detention and loss of points for Gryffindors XD

Early Memories:

You can't be this sweet and caring without great role-models in your life. When Garreth was a few months old, five-year-old Edmund heard him crying in the night. To avoid waking their parents, Edmund took Garreth to the living room to comfort him. Mrs. Weasley found them the next morning, asleep together on the couch, a moment that reaffirmed the special bond among her children.

Passion for Potions:

Garreth's love for potions sparked at a very young age. Every Christmas, Mr. Weasley would bring home a crate of Butterbeer to celebrate, in a very poor family this made the celebration very special. The taste intrigued Garreth, inspiring a desire to recreate something similar yet affordable to spread joy, much like Butterbeer did for him. Did Oliver try to give him alcoholic Butterbeer? Sure, but we don't talk about this XD

Skill in Potion-making:

He’s the middle born of a large family, with Edmund being the everyone’s favorite and so good in everything, but also very modest, Oliver being the prankster who excels in charms and Charlotte being the pretty and quirky witch of the family with a knack for magical creatures (Hector is too little) he wanted to find something for himself.

He has a unique eye condition, he’s not color-blind, but he can’t see certain shades of the same color. As he will explain to Pen most people relies on their eyesight to check on their potions, since he cannot rely only on that, he has to use his other senses as well: smell and hearing. This gave him an edge.

Entrepreneurial Spirit:

He started his business at Hogwarts as a potionist as a way to make money to buy ingredients for his brew. Everything started one day when Edmund asked him to help him prepare a calming drought for a friend who was having panic attacks. He soon started receiving more orders that he could handle.

Personal Quirks:

Despite his accomplishments, Garreth loathes his freckles, getting quite upset when Pen dubbed him an "ugly freckled mug."

He has an never ending crush on Poppy since the second year, which was apparent to Natty during their first class together, but Lee never noticed XD

He will never ever retort to violence to solve conflicts, he has other ways, thanks to his business he knows his clients' secrets and he’s not afraid of use them when threaten. 

He refuses to brew illegal potions, he already has enough problems with his aunt as it is.

He’s easy to scare, to much delight of Lee and Natty who always convince him to come to the Old Fool haunted house for Halloween (and make bets on him).   

When he's nervous he always pushes his lock of hairs away from his forehead to give space to his mind to breath XD

Literary Interests:

Garreth is an avid fan of the "Emerald Quill" novel series, which follows a gentleman thief executing magical heists. He often spoils the plot for Lee, who's attempted to read the series multiple times without success.

This means, he’s not afraid of stealing when necessary XD