#both of the idiots are fluent in it

[mischievous-thunder]

Take flirting lessons from these two only if you find someone who's just as freaky and psychotic

[penpenpencil]

I really really really really like rabbits(that’s 4 reallys) and am sad that Rise didn’t get a Usagi. I kinda wanted to give my own spin on him before my brain found another thing to focus on. I couldn’t decide on basing him off Yuichi Usagi or Usagi Miyamoto, so I kinda smushed them together and made this? I don’t have a lot finalized for him yet, so ideas are always welcome!

I wanted to add a lot of nods to 03 Usagi, what I’ve seen of 87 Usagi and the fandom Yuichi for rise. I still don’t know if I want the chill personality or the chaotic personality so I’ll have to test it out. (might make him have both? :^) Plus I need to do more research on the Usagi Chronicles and Samurai Rabbit anyway. I might add more ‘Easter eggs’ for his design later, but I live under a rock and use a telescope to watch the outside world.

[nazumichi]

like maybe if you spent more time and effort pronouncing the “j” and “ñ” and “ll” sounds right, maybe you could make your way over to the obviously so much more important “Rolling R Sound.”

[mononijikayu]

just one day — nanami kento.

“Do you think, my darling,” he asked after a moment, his voice thoughtful, “that we’ll look back on this day and remember it as one of those rare, perfect moments?” You nuzzled against him, feeling his warmth envelop you. “I hope so. It feels perfect to me right now.” Kento’s smile grew, a look of contentment on his face. “Then it’s perfect. And it’s a memory I’ll cherish.”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: NSFW, R-18+. Romance, Oral (f receiving), Masturbation (m receiving), Friends to Lovers, Husband and Wife, Friendship, Husband! Nanami, Reader! Wife, Fluff, Drama, Comfort, Falling In Love, Flirting, Fix-It, Humor, Domesticity, Family Life, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Idiots In Love, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Pining, Depiction of Sexual Acts, Depiction of Nudity, Mention of Sexual Acts, Mention of Nudity, Nanami Being A Great Husband;

WORDS: 9k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: im back hello hello!!! its been a while since i did something for kento. but he won second place in the recent poll and this had to be published soon after. reader and nanami speak danish at home, because reader and kento are fluent. speaking danish at home together makes it easier for them to retain danish!!! anyway, enjoy this~ i love you all <3

main masterlist

what a wonderful world masterlist

safe and sound | just one day

next: i love you so

HE DOESN’T THINK HE’S EVER BEEN USED TO REST. Nanami Kento wasn’t one for lazy days. His life was always defined by structure, order, and discipline—but today, he found himself yearning for something different.

He woke up to the sun pouring through the curtains, a rare warmth on his face, and instead of feeling the usual rush of urgency to start his day, he felt… content. He had a day off, a luxury in his line of work, and there was only one thing he wanted to do with it: spend it with you. In all ways he can. In all ways he wants. Even if they were a little greedy on his part. 

The thing that woke you up was a soft, feather-light sensation, and it took you a moment to realize it was the brush of Kento's lips. He was nestled between your thighs, his face nuzzling against the tender skin, his mouth moving with an almost reverent slowness. A gasp escaped your lips, your hand instinctively reaching out to tangle in his tousled hair as he continued, his tongue tracing slow, deliberate patterns that sent shivers up your spine.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, and a soft mewl slipped from your throat as his hands gripped your hips, guiding you closer. The sound of your voice, the way your body trembled beneath his touch—Kento could feel his heart swell with a quiet kind of happiness, a fulfillment that came from these rare, precious moments of intimacy.

He didn’t rush. There was no need. For once, time stretched luxuriously before him, each second an opportunity to savor the taste of you, to feel the softness of your skin, and to relish the way your body responded to his every movement. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, hear the quiet hum of pleasure in his throat as he lost himself in the moment.

Your breaths grew shallow, each exhale a soft sigh that filled the quiet room. Every touch of his lips against you sent another wave of heat rushing through your body, an intoxicating mix of pleasure and tenderness that made your mind go blank. You could feel the slow, deliberate rhythm of his mouth against you, the gentle yet insistent pressure building as he explored every sensitive inch.

Kento's fingers tightened around your thighs, his grip firm yet affectionate. His touch was both a request and a command, guiding you closer to the edge with a patience that bordered on worship. You could sense his focus, his devotion in the way he moved—completely immersed in you, in the sounds you made, in the way your body trembled under his care.

Your hands slid from the sheets to his shoulders, gripping onto him as if anchoring yourself to reality. He looked up at you for a moment, his warm, honeyed eyes catching yours, a faint smile tugging at his lips. The expression was so soft, so utterly different from the usual calm and composed mask he wore, that it sent your heart racing even faster.

"Kento..." you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath, the name falling from your lips like a prayer. “My love….O–oh—”

He didn't answer, not with words. Instead, he hummed against you, a deep, satisfied sound that sent vibrations through your core. The sensation made you arch against him, a shiver running down your spine as he continued his gentle assault. His hands, strong and steady, slid up to cradle your hips, pulling you even closer as he redoubled his efforts.

That sweet, delicious pleasure had continued to build, an unstoppable tide rising higher and higher, and your body responded in kind, moving against his talented mouth with increasing urgency. You could feel the tension coiling in your stomach, tight and insistent, drawing closer and closer to the breaking point. 

And just when you thought you couldn't hold on any longer, when every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire, he pulled back ever so slightly, his breath hot against your skin as he murmured your name with a softness that melted into your very soul.

"I want to see you, darling." he whispered, his voice husky, a rare vulnerability lacing his words. "Let me see you."

Your eyes fluttered open, and immediately, you were met with Kento’s gaze. The intensity there was almost overwhelming, as if he was seeing straight into your soul, making you feel like the only person in the world. His eyes bore into yours with a kind of fervor that left you breathless, and in that moment, nothing else seemed to exist—only him, only you, and the deep connection that bound you together. 

You felt the corners of his mouth curl into a smile against you, a grin that was both mischievous and filled with a quiet, determined hunger. There was a glint in his eye, a challenge, almost, and before you could take another breath, he pulled you closer, his hands firm yet gentle on your thighs, anchoring you in place. You gasped as his mouth began to move more urgently, his tongue working against you with a renewed fervor, each movement precise, deliberate. 

He devoured you with a raw, animalistic hunger that sent a shockwave of pleasure rippling through your entire body. The rhythm of his tongue was relentless, his mouth eager and commanding, sending electric shivers up your spine. Every stroke, every flick, every swirl of his tongue against you was masterful, calculated to draw out the most sinful sounds from your lips. You could feel your body responding, arching toward him, giving in to the pleasure that he was so expertly creating.

Your head fell back against the pillow, a soft cry escaping your lips as you gripped the sheets tightly, your fingers curling around the fabric as if it were the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. The sounds of your pleasure filled the room, mingling with the soft rustle of the sheets and the rhythmic pulse of your heartbeat in your ears. The heat of his mouth, the way his lips moved with purpose and confidence, sent you spiraling higher and higher, your mind going hazy, your senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of what you were feeling.

His hands pressed into the soft flesh of your thighs, fingers digging in just enough to hold you in place, to keep you from escaping the onslaught of pleasure he was determined to give you. The slight sting of his grip only heightened the sensations, drawing a strangled moan from your throat. You could feel the tension building within you, coiling tighter and tighter like a spring wound to its limit, ready to snap.

He continued, undeterred, his mouth moving faster, harder, as if he could sense how close you were, as if he wanted to push you over that edge and watch you fall apart for him. His eyes never left yours, locked in a gaze so intense it was almost too much to bear. It was as if he was silently demanding you to give in, to surrender completely to the pleasure he was giving you, and you found yourself unable to resist.

The sunlight poured over the bed, bathing you both in a warm, golden glow, and you felt it—felt the rush building, cresting like a wave about to break. The sensation was overwhelming, the pleasure almost too much, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps. And then, with a cry that was both raw and helpless, you shattered, your body trembling, your back arching off the bed as you came, waves of pleasure crashing over you in relentless succession.

For a moment, there was nothing but white-hot sensation, your body convulsing with the force of your release, every nerve alive, every muscle taut. You could hear your own voice, your cries mingling with the sound of his name, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis, time itself pausing in the wake of your climax.

Kento didn’t stop, didn’t slow, his tongue continuing its relentless rhythm, prolonging your pleasure, drawing out every last shiver, every last gasp, until you were nothing more than a trembling, breathless mess beneath him. When he finally eased back, his lips were swollen, glistening with your arousal, a satisfied smile on his face. His hands moved up to your hips, fingers tracing gentle patterns on your skin as if to soothe the raw edges of your pleasure.

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of pride and adoration, his breathing heavy, his face flushed with desire. “Beautiful, darling.” he murmured, his voice low and thick with satisfaction, as if he’d just discovered a new truth about you, about both of you. "Absolutely beautiful."

You tried to catch your breath, your heart still racing, your skin tingling with the aftershocks of your climax. You could feel a flush spreading across your cheeks, a lazy smile tugging at your lips as you reached down, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging him up to meet your lips in a deep, grateful kiss.

And in that moment, with the sunlight spilling over the bed, with his mouth still tasting of you, you felt an overwhelming sense of completeness, of being entirely, perfectly alive.

This was the truest, the rawest of your husband. This is the side of Nanami Kento that was reserved only for you—a side that didn’t know the meaning of restraint, that didn’t care for the rigid lines of routine. Today, he allowed himself to be utterly devoted to the simple, intoxicating pleasure of you. He was going to enjoy you, worship you, love you; even if it was just for one day.

Nanami Kento hovered over you, your warmth still shining against his lips. He huffed a breath, watching you as you recovered. Your hair was tousled against the pillow, your breathing slow and even, and he felt a rare sense of peace wash over him. He reached out, brushing a few strands of hair from your face, his touch feather-light so as not to wake you just yet. He wanted this — this quiet, stolen moment — for just a little while longer.

When your eyes met his, shining in golden sunlight, a small sleepy smile spread across your lips, and Kento felt his chest tighten with affection. He licked his lips, drowning in the traces of you against his tongue.

“Good morning, my love.” you whispered, your voice still laced with sleep. “You’re too….. ravenous today.”

“Good morning, darling.” he replied, his voice a low rumble. He didn’t move, just continued to look at you with an intensity that made your cheeks flush. “You just looked so good, you know? I couldn’t help myself.”

You felt your face turn even more flustered. “You flatter me too much.”

He smiled at you. “I said nothing that was untrue. Especially not about my beloved wife.” His fingers trace against the loose echoes of your tousled hair. “I have the day off today.” he added, as if it were a secret he was letting you in on. “I’m all yours, my darling.”

You blinked, surprised, then your smile grew wider. “Really? No exercising curses or dealing with Satoru’s antics?”

“None. None at all.” he confirmed. “And I intend to do absolutely nothing. ‘ust wanna be with you today, hm?”

You laughed softly, a sound he always found soothing. “Nothing, huh? That’s new for you.”

“Don’t get used to it, my darling.” he warned, but there was a rare softness in his tone, a hint of amusement that only you could bring out. He slid closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him. “But today… I just want to stay here with you. No obligations. No responsibilities. Just us.”

You snuggled into his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. “I can’t think of a better way to spend the day.”

He smiled, a small, genuine smile that you didn’t see often enough. “Neither can I.” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You looked at Kento, your lips curling into a lazy smile that made his breath hitch. Your eyes were half-lidded, still heavy with sleep, but there was a mischievous glint in them that sent a rush of heat straight through him.

You moved slowly, deliberately, your fingers trailing down to the waistband of his pajama pants. His breath caught in his throat as he felt the gentle, teasing pressure of your fingers tracing the outline of him through the fabric, feeling the stiffness grow beneath your touch.

“Kento…” you whispered, your voice soft but filled with intent. You could feel his body tense beneath your hand, his eyes darkening with a mix of surprise and desire as he watched you. Slowly, you began to rub him, your fingers moving with a deliberate slowness, enjoying the way his breath became uneven, a low groan slipping from his lips.

He muttered your name, his voice strained, barely able to contain the sound of his pleasure. “D-darling…”

You grinned wider, a playful expression that only heightened his longing. You slipped your hand beneath the hem of his pajamas, fingers brushing against his heated skin, and his body responded instantly, hips lifting slightly as if seeking more of your touch.

“I want it, my love.” you murmured, your voice laced with a seductive sweetness that made his heart race.

Kento’s breath came in ragged bursts now, his composure crumbling with every stroke of your hand. He watched you, utterly captivated, as you gripped him more firmly, palming his growing erection, feeling the way it throbbed under your fingers. You took your time with Kento, savoring the feel of him, the way his body seemed to tremble with anticipation.

“Please, my love…” you whispered, leaning closer, your lips brushing against his ear. “I wanna make you feel good too… Please? Let me do it, my love.”

Kento's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, a low groan rumbling deep in his chest. His hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip with a tenderness that seemed almost at odds with the raw hunger in his gaze. "

Y-yes, darling.” he managed, his voice husky, barely more than a breath. "God, yes…"

Your hand moved with more confidence now, your touch firmer, more assured, as you began to stroke him with purpose. The sounds he made were intoxicating, each moan and gasp made it clear how much your husband wanted you, how much he needed this—needed you to make love to him like this.

He was losing himself to you, the sensations overwhelming, his control slipping with every passing second. His hands gripped the sheets, his head falling back against the pillow as he let out a shuddering breath, surrendering to the waves of pleasure building within him. And you, watching him, feeling the power in this moment, couldn’t help but smile, knowing that today was just for the two of you.

You felt a surge of satisfaction as Kento's breath drastically quickened, his chest rising and falling with each labored inhale. The way his body reacted to your touch was a language all its own—one of trust, of need, of a desire so deep it seemed to consume the very air around you.

His hand on your cheek trembled slightly, his thumb brushing against your lips as if seeking some form of grounding, but even that small movement betrayed his growing desperation. He likes intimacy, your husband. He loves keeping you close. Touching you. You were as enthralled with the warmth of affection that was born from the touch of someone you loved.

Slowly, you leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his palm, and then another to the inside of his wrist. Your lips trailed gentle, teasing kisses up his arm as your hand continued its steady rhythm, squeezing and stroking him with a tenderness that left him breathless. Each kiss felt like a promise, a whispered assurance that you were there with him, fully, completely, in this moment.

“Kento, my love…..” you breathed against his skin, your voice barely a whisper. “You feel so good in my hands…”

He groaned at your words, his head turning to the side, eyes squeezing shut as if trying to hold on to his composure, but he was losing that battle with every touch, every caress. "I—" he began, his voice hoarse. "I don't… know how much longer I can…"

His sentence dissolved into another low moan as your thumb swept over the tip of his length, spreading the bead of moisture that had formed there, your fingers wrapping around him tighter.

You could see the conflict in his eyes when he opened them again, a mix of desire and restraint, but that restraint was crumbling, fraying at the edges as you continued to stroke him, your movements steady, determined. He bit his lip, trying to hold back, trying to keep some semblance of control, but the way his hips bucked against your hand betrayed him.

“Let go, Kento.” you whispered, your lips now hovering just above his. “Let me see you fall apart for me… Let me feel you, my love.”

His breath hitched, a shiver running down his spine at your words. He let out a shuddering sigh, his fingers threading through your hair, pulling you closer as if he needed to anchor himself to you.

“I… I can’t… hold back, darling.” he muttered, his voice rough, filled with a kind of raw honesty that made your heart skip a beat.

You smiled, a soft, knowing smile, and pressed your lips against his, capturing his mouth in a slow, heated kiss. Your hand continued its work, stroking him with purpose, with a rhythm that matched the racing of his heart. You felt him tense beneath you, his entire body coiling like a spring, ready to snap.

Then, with a deep, guttural groan, he finally let go. His body shuddered, a wave of pleasure crashing over him as he came, hot and thick, into your hand. His grip tightened in your hair, his kiss turning desperate, needy, as he rode out the intense waves of his release. 

You felt his body relax under your touch, his breathing gradually slowing, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He looked at you through half-lidded eyes, a faint, lazy smile tugging at the corners of his lips, a mix of contentment and disbelief in his gaze.

"You… you always know how to make me feel alive, darling." he murmured, his voice soft, filled with a warmth that made your heart swell. 

You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, savoring the taste of him, the feel of him against you. “I love you, Kento. My dearest love.” you whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “And I love seeing you like this, with me.”

He chuckled softly, a sound that was rare, precious. "And I love you." he replied, pulling you closer, wrapping his arms around you. "More than I could ever say."

For hours after your little rendezvous, the two of you stayed tangled in each other’s arms, sharing quiet conversations, soft kisses, and long silences filled with nothing but the sound of your breathing. Nanami Kento held you like you were the most precious thing in the world, his fingers tracing absent patterns on your back, his gaze never leaving your face for long.

Eventually, you coaxed him out of bed with the promise of a simple breakfast. Kento resisted at first, his limbs still heavy with the sweet exhaustion of your shared intimacy, but the sound of your voice, so light and teasing, and the allure of spending a quiet morning together drew him from the warm confines of the sheets.

He followed you into the kitchen, still half-dressed, the waistband of his pajama pants hanging low on his hips, his hair more tousled than usual, the remnants of sleep and desire still lingering in his eyes.

He leaned against the doorway, watching you move with a quiet grace, your silhouette bathed in the soft morning light. You hummed a familiar tune under your breath, your hands deftly preparing the coffee with a practiced ease.

The scent of freshly ground beans filled the air, mingling with the warm rays of sunlight streaming through the window, and Kento found himself mesmerized by the sight of you. It was a simple, domestic scene, yet there was something about it that felt incredibly intimate, as if he was seeing a side of you reserved only for these quiet, stolen moments.

His heart swelled with a feeling he couldn’t quite name, a gentle ache in his chest that felt like contentment, like peace, but also something deeper, something he wasn’t used to allowing himself to feel.

His life had always been one of discipline, of carefully constructed routines meant to keep him grounded, focused. But watching you now, he realized how much he craved this—these mornings with you, the ease of your presence, the way you moved with such purpose yet without hurry.

He pushed himself off the doorway and crossed the room, coming up behind you. He slipped his arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"You always look so beautiful," he murmured, his voice still rough from sleep, his breath warm against your ear.

You laughed softly, leaning back into his embrace, your hands stilling for a moment as you savored the feel of him so close, so tender. "Kento, you're still half asleep," you teased, but your voice was gentle, affectionate.

He hummed in agreement, his lips brushing against your temple. "Maybe," he admitted, "but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s true."

You smiled, your heart fluttering at the sincerity in his voice. You turned slightly in his arms, meeting his gaze, and for a moment, everything else fell away. The world outside, with all its demands and expectations, seemed so distant, so unimportant. Here, in this small, sunlit kitchen, it was just the two of you, wrapped in a quiet bubble of contentment.

"You know, my love...." you said softly, reaching up to brush a lock of hair away from his forehead, "I love seeing you like this, too. Relaxed. Happy."

He closed his eyes for a moment, his forehead resting against yours. "I never thought I could have this, you know?" he confessed, almost as if he were speaking to himself. "I never thought I could find this kind of peace… with someone."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over the stubble on his jaw. "You deserve it, Kento. You deserve every bit of happiness."

He sighed, a deep, contented sound, and kissed you softly, a lingering kiss that spoke of gratitude, of affection, of a love that was growing, deepening with every moment you spent together. When he finally pulled back, there was a softness in his eyes, a lightness in his expression that you rarely saw but cherished whenever it appeared.

“Now, about that breakfast,” he murmured, his lips curving into a small smile. “What can I do to help?”

You grinned, handing him a spoon and pointing toward the eggs on the counter. “Start with those, chef. We’re in this together.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and unguarded, and with a playful roll of his eyes, he moved to the stove, taking his place beside you. As he cracked the eggs into the pan, his movements careful yet practiced, he glanced over at you, and that unnamed feeling in his chest blossomed into something undeniably clear—he was falling for you, deeper than he ever thought he could, in the simplest and most unexpected ways.

Kento watched you with endeared eyes for a moment longer, then finally allowed himself to relax, leaning back in his chair with a contented sigh. For the first time in a long time, Nanami Kento felt like he could truly breathe. And as he sipped his coffee, he decided that maybe, just maybe, he could get used to this kind of day off — as long as it was with you.

Kento listened to you as you spoke about expanding the gardens, your voice animated with excitement as you described your vision. You wanted to add a new section for herbs and perhaps a small patch for wildflowers to attract bees and butterflies. The way your eyes lit up with each idea, each possibility, brought a soft smile to his face. He found it soothing, the way you talked about something so simple and yet so full of life.

"I’ve been thinking, my love." you continued in your sweet voice. "We could plant some lavender along the path leading up to the porch. The scent would be wonderful in the evenings. And maybe a few rose bushes along the fence — I’ve always loved roses."

Kento took another sip of his coffee, his gaze never leaving your face. "Lavender, hm?" he mused, his voice thoughtful. "That would be nice. The smell is calming. And roses… they would suit you."

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, the unexpected compliment catching you off guard. "Do you think so?" you asked, a small smile playing on your lips.

He nodded, setting his coffee down. "Yes. Roses are resilient, elegant… and they add beauty to their surroundings. Much like you."

Your smile grew, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly. "Kento, my love, you’re making me blush."

"Good." he replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. "I like seeing you like this. Happy."

You reached out, covering his hand with yours on the table. "I’m happy when I’m with you, my love." you said softly, and he felt something in his chest loosen, a tension he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Always, my love.”

Kento glanced out the window, his gaze drifting to the backyard—a blank canvas of green that stretched out before him, the morning light casting soft shadows across the lawn. He remembered the way your eyes lit up when you talked about your plans, your hands gesturing excitedly as you described the flowerbeds you wanted to plant, the small herbs you would grow, and the cozy corner where you’d place a bench for reading.

The idea had seemed whimsical to him at first—another project, another commitment in a life already filled with so many—but now, as he stood there, imagining it, he felt a strange warmth blooming in his chest. Nanami Kento thinks that he could almost taste the color, the texture. Everything.

He could almost see it: the vibrant hues of lavender and roses mingling in the sunlight, their colors bright against the backdrop of deep green leaves. The delicate petals swayed gently in a soft breeze, the air filled with their fragrant scent.

He could picture the lavender—its soft purple flowers nodding gracefully in the wind, releasing that soothing, calming fragrance he knew you loved. The roses, rich and full, would add bursts of color—reds, pinks, yellows—each bloom a testament to life, to beauty, to growth.

The thought of it was unexpectedly comforting. He imagined himself coming home after a long day, his shoulders heavy with the weight of the world, only to be greeted by the sight of your garden, a small oasis of tranquility and life. The idea of it, of having a place that was alive, that was growing—just like the two of you—appealed to him more than he’d expected.

He pictured you there, kneeling in the dirt, your hands stained with soil, a soft smile on your face as you carefully tended to the plants. He imagined the way you’d look up at him, a smudge of dirt on your cheek, your eyes bright with joy and purpose.

The image made his heart swell with a tenderness that surprised him. He saw himself joining you, hands working beside yours, digging into the earth, feeling the cool, damp soil under his fingers, the two of you creating something beautiful together.

And it wasn’t just the visual that drew him in; it was the sound—the gentle rustle of leaves in the wind, the soft hum of bees flitting from flower to flower, the occasional chirp of a bird perched nearby. He could almost hear the faint trickle of a small fountain you’d mentioned wanting to install, its soothing babble mixing with the sounds of nature. It all seemed so… peaceful, so different from the noise and chaos of his daily life.

He hadn’t realized how much he craved that peace until now, standing there, imagining the garden you would build together. A place where time slowed down, where the worries and stresses of the outside world couldn’t reach him. A place that felt like home, in every sense of the word.

Kento’s hand absently brushed against the windowsill, his fingers tracing the worn wood as he allowed himself to linger in that vision a little longer. He could almost smell the herbs you talked about planting—basil, rosemary, thyme—their aromas mingling with the fresh air, bringing a sense of calm, of warmth, of life. He imagined plucking fresh sprigs for dinner, the scent of rosemary clinging to his fingers, the earthy, familiar smell of thyme infusing the kitchen as you cooked together.

And as he stood there, he realized that it wasn’t just the idea of the garden itself that appealed to him—it was what it represented. Growth, nurturing, care. It was a symbol of the life you were building together, the way you were slowly, carefully cultivating something beautiful out of the ordinary. 

Kento’s lips curved into a small, thoughtful smile. He turned to you, watching as you moved around the kitchen, your expression content, your presence filling the room with warmth. Yes, he thought, he could almost see it—the garden, the life, the future you were both creating, one moment at a time.

And for once, the future didn’t feel daunting to him; it felt… a little bit hopeful. He felt a quiet sense of purpose settle within him, a sense that this was exactly where he was meant to be, with you, dreaming of lavender and roses.

"I could help you with it, darling." he offered, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "On weekends or when I have time. I know you like gardening, but some of the work might be too much for one person."

You beamed at him, your eyes sparkling with gratitude. "I’d love that, my love." you replied. "It would be fun, wouldn’t it? Working on it together?"

"Fun…." Nanami repeated, considering the word. "Yes… I suppose it would be. Life is fun with you."

You blinked at his words. And then you burst into warm giggles, your cheeks rosy red. He realized then that this was what he’d been missing — not just a break from work, but a sense of purpose beyond his duties as a sorcerer. A chance to build something with you, to create a space where you both could feel at peace. The idea of nurturing something, watching it grow, appealed to him in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

"And, oh! My love, maybe…." you added with a playful grin. "Maybe we can add a bench under the oak tree, so you have a spot to read while I fuss over the flowers."

Nanami chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine. "A bench sounds good, my darling." he agreed. "And I’d like to see you fuss over the flowers."

Your laughter filled the kitchen, light and joyful, and he found himself smiling, genuinely smiling, more than he had in weeks. As you continued to share your ideas over breakfast, Nanami Kento felt something shift within him — a gentle, comforting realization that these moments, these simple, quiet days spent with you, were what he truly needed.

He didn’t need excitement or adventure. He didn’t need a life filled with constant battles and endless challenges. He needed this: mornings filled with coffee and conversation, afternoons spent planning gardens, evenings under the stars. He needed you.

"Alright, alright…." he said finally, setting his mug down with a decisive nod. "Let's expand the garden. Lavender, roses, herbs… all of it."

Your face lit up with joy, and you leaned across the table to kiss him, your lips soft against his. "Thank you, my love." you whispered, your smile bright and warm. "I think it’s going to be beautiful."

He kissed you back, his hand cradling your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. "It already is." he replied softly, knowing that as long as you were there, it always would be.

YOU WERE EXHAUSTED BY THE END OF IT. After washing up together, enjoying a little more romance in each other’s arms in the bathroom — you finally gently persuaded Nanami to join you on the couch.

You draped a soft, cozy blanket over both of you, and he settled in beside you, his arm naturally finding its place around your shoulders. The morning light filtering through the curtains added a warm glow to the room, and for a moment, everything felt perfectly calm and serene.

You nestled into his side, feeling his steady heartbeat against you, and began to talk about something that had been on your mind lately. “You know, my love….” you started, your voice filled with excitement, “I’ve been thinking about my recent book and my agent said that there’s a possibility that it might be adapted into a television show.”

Nanami turned his head slightly to look at you, his expression curious but attentive. “A television show?” he asked, raising an eyebrow with a small grin on his lips. “That’s great, darling. Though, I have to say — isn’t this quite a leap from a book. How did that come about?”

You smiled, your eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “I was told to keep quiet for a while, but now that things are going on, it’s something I can spoil.”

He grinned deeper. “Oh? You’re willing to let someone hear a very, very important secret?”

“Uh–uh. Don’t tell my agent though. She’ll kill me!”

“Alright, my darling. I promise.” He whispers against your tender skin. “Tell me.”

“So, I’ve been in touch with a producer who’s interested in the story. They think it has potential and want to explore it further. It’s still in the early stages, but the idea of seeing my characters and world come to life on screen is so thrilling.”

“That’s incredible, my darling.” Nanami said, a genuine smile touching his lips. “You must be very excited.”

“I am, my love.” you admitted, leaning closer to him. “But I’m also a little nervous. It’s one thing to write a book and have people imagine it, seeing it visualized… Like you said, that’s a whole different thing. I’m worried about how it will turn out, if it will capture the essence of the story.”

Nanami’s hand gently rubbed your arm, his touch soothing. “I understand, my darling,” he said softly. “But remember, the essence of the story is in your writing. No matter how it’s adapted, that core will come through as long as it stays true to what you wrote. And from what I’ve read of your new work, I do believe it will be quite huge if it happens.”

Your smile widened at his reassurance. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely.” he replied with conviction. “And if it’s something you’re passionate about, I’m sure it will resonate with others too. You’ve always had a way with words, and that won’t change just because it’s on screen. You’re such a great writer, after all.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you, comforted by his unwavering support. “Thank you, My love. It means a lot to hear that.”

He looked at you with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. “I’m proud of you, you know. Not just for your book, but for taking this step. It’s a big deal, and you’re handling it amazingly. You’re just brilliant, my love.”

You snuggled closer, feeling a deep sense of contentment. Your cheeks turn brighter, as though a scarlet sunrise appeared before Kento. He smiles at how beautiful you look like this in front of him. But in truth, you always were. You always will be. 

“I wouldn’t have gotten this far without you, though. Your encouragement and belief in me have made a huge difference, my love.”

Nanami’s arm tightened around you, pulling you even closer. “I’m always here for you. And I can’t wait to see where this journey takes you.”

You sighed contentedly, resting your head against his shoulder. “I’m glad to have you by my side, my love. Even with all the uncertainties, having you here makes everything feel more manageable.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “We’ll face whatever comes together always, my darling.” he said softly. “And I’m looking forward to seeing your blossoming in what you love to do, hm?”

You both fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that spoke volumes without needing words. Wrapped in the blanket, with Nanami’s steady presence beside you, you felt a profound sense of peace. As you continued to discuss your book and the exciting possibilities ahead, you realized that this moment, this calm and cozy morning together, was just as significant as any big event.

For now, you were content to savor the simple joy of being with him, sharing your dreams and plans, and feeling grateful for the love and support that made everything seem just a little brighter.

After all, there was still that warm morning sun filtering through the windows, casting a soft, golden glow across the room. As though this is where the sun was. This was the center of the world. Just the two of you. The light seemed to weave through the sheer curtains, bathing everything in a warm, almost ethereal hue. It was the kind of light that made ordinary moments feel magical, turning the mundane into something beautifully serene.

As Nanami Kento leaned back into the cushions of the couch, he pulled you closer, and you felt the comforting weight of his arm around you. Your head naturally found its place against his shoulder, the fabric of his shirt warm and soft beneath your cheek. It felt almost like a dream — this rare, quiet intimacy with him, where the usual world of responsibilities and chaos seemed to dissolve into the background.

The stillness of the peaceful life, punctuated only by the gentle hum of the house and the distant chirping of birds outside, created a cocoon of peace around you both. Kento’s own steady breathing was rhythmic and soothing, like a comforting lullaby that made you feel utterly secure. His presence, so close and protective, wrapped you in a sense of calm that you seldom experienced.

In this tranquil moment, you could almost forget the outside world. The usual pressures and expectations faded away, leaving just the two of you and the simple pleasure of being together. The sun’s soft light created patterns on the walls and floors, dancing with the shadows in a way that made everything feel tender and intimate.

Nanami’s body radiates warmth, his heartbeat a steady and reassuring rhythm against you. His fingers lightly traced patterns on your arm, a gesture so gentle it felt like a silent promise of his unwavering support and affection. You could feel his heart beating steadily, a constant reminder that, in this moment, everything was right.

This rare, quiet intimacy with him was a sanctuary from the world outside. It was a space where time seemed to slow down, allowing you both to savor the closeness and the simple joy of each other’s company. Kento’s presence was and always will be your grounding force, anchoring you in this serene bubble where nothing else mattered but the connection you shared.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself sink deeper into the comfort of his embrace. The soft glow of the morning sun, the warmth of his body, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest created a sense of contentment that was both profound and delicate. It was a reminder that amidst the chaos of life, there were these precious moments of calm and connection that made everything else seem secondary.

In the quiet of the room, the warmth of your bodies began enveloping you both. And for a moment, you pray to any god out there. Because this life you’d built with Kento, it was everything. And all you had in you was this feeling of overwhelming gratitude. That you found each other. That you had each other. That you belong to each other for the rest of time. 

You like to think that one of these moments was worth living for. In these moments, so simple yet so significant, that you found true happiness. This is what your mother meant when she said that true love exists, that happiness was so simple and yet was boundless as the seas. Kento was your love, and he was your happiness. 

And you would be happy to be nothing but with him. You’d gladly stay in this bubble, this little planet of your own, this never–ending galaxy of love. The world outside could wait; for now, you were content to bask in the peaceful intimacy of the morning, savoring the rare and precious gift of being together.

You shifted slightly, feeling the soft, steady rise and fall of Nanami’s chest as you nestled closer. The warmth of his presence was soothing, and you took a deep breath, enjoying the tranquility of the moment. There was a brief pause, filled only with the soft sounds of the house and the gentle hum of the morning. Nanami’s arm tightened slightly around you, pulling you closer.

“Do you think, my darling,” he asked after a moment, his voice thoughtful, “that we’ll look back on this day and remember it as one of those rare, perfect moments?”

You nuzzled against him, feeling his warmth envelop you. “I hope so. It feels perfect to me right now.”

Kento’s smile grew, a look of contentment on his face. “Then it’s perfect. And it’s a memory I’ll cherish.”

You both fell into a comfortable silence once more, savoring the peaceful intimacy of the moment. With Nanami’s arm around you and the morning sun casting its gentle glow over the room, you felt a profound sense of contentment, knowing that these shared moments were the true treasures of life.

"Are you sure you don’t have somewhere you’d rather be?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, still trying to process the calm of the moment. 

Nanami turned his head slightly, his gaze meeting yours with a gentle intensity. "There’s nowhere else I’d rather be," he said firmly. "And no one else I’d rather be with."

You felt your heart flutter at his words, the sincerity behind them so very Nanami — direct and without pretense. It wasn’t often that he voiced his emotions so openly, but today felt different. Today, it was as if he was allowing himself to be just a man, rather than a jujutsu sorcerer bound by duty. 

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, his fingers drawing small circles on your arm. “Tell me, darling…” he murmured after a while. “What would you do on a day like this if you had no obligations?”

You smiled, tilting your head to look up at him. “Hmm, I’d probably spend it just like this… with you. Maybe we could go for a walk later or cook dinner together. Nothing extravagant, just… simple things.”

Nanami’s lips curved into the smallest smile. “Simple things, huh?” he echoed. “I like the sound of that.”

You felt a warm, comforting sense of happiness settle over you. “We could read a book, or just stay here and talk. We don’t get to do that often enough, I think. We’re just both busy most of the time.”

Nanami hummed in agreement, his hand gently stroking your hair. “Talking with you is easy, darling.” he confessed quietly. “Not a dull conversation with you. Everything’s just….extraordinary even in the ordinary.”

His words made your heart swell with affection. “I’m glad, my love.” you whispered, your fingers playing with the edge of his shirt. “You make everything feel like that too, you know? Even the quiet feels meaningful when I’m with you.”

He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his breath warm against your skin. “Then let’s stay like this more often, hm?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. “Let’s stay here and let the world move around us for a change.”

You nodded, settling into the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, letting it lull you into a calm you rarely felt. For hours, you stayed wrapped up together, sharing thoughts, stories, and soft laughter that came naturally in the stillness of the day. 

Eventually, the light began to change, the afternoon sun casting longer shadows across the room. You felt Nanami shift slightly, his fingers still tracing patterns on your skin, a small smile on his lips. 

“Do you know what I’ve been thinking?” he asked, his tone contemplative. 

“What’s that?”

He hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. “I’ve been thinking… Maybe I should take days like this more often. Days where I don’t think about anything but being with you. I think I’ve forgotten how important that is.”

Your heart swelled at his admission, and you reached up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over his skin. “You deserve that, Kento. You deserve to rest, to enjoy life outside of work.”

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment. “And I think I’ve finally realized that, dearest darling.” he whispered. “You make me realize it. I’m grateful for you.”

You smiled softly, leaning in to press a tender kiss to his lips, feeling the gentle press of his hand against your back as he deepened the kiss. It was slow, languid, like the day itself — a promise that you both had all the time in the world.

When you pulled back, you saw something in his eyes that made your breath catch — a deep, abiding love that went beyond words. He didn’t need to say anything else. He just held you a little tighter, as if anchoring himself to this moment, to you.

“Let’s make dinner together, my love.” you suggested softly, breaking the silence.

Nanami nodded, his expression softening. “I’d like that, darling.” he replied. “And after that… maybe we can sit on the porch and watch the stars come out.”

You grinned. “I’d like that, too.”

As the day turned into evening, you and Kento moved to the kitchen together, the transition from a tranquil morning to a lively afternoon marking a subtle change in the atmosphere.

The kitchen was filled with the sounds of cooking — the steady rhythm of chopping vegetables, the bubbling of boiling pasta, and the occasional sizzle from the stovetop. The air was rich with the aroma of garlic and herbs, mingling with the comforting scent of fresh pasta.

You laughed over small things: a particularly stubborn piece of garlic that wouldn’t mince properly, a splash of water that nearly escaped from the pot, and the playful banter that came naturally as you worked side by side.

Your Kento's laughter, light and genuine, was a sound you cherished. It was a rare and beautiful contrast to the usual seriousness of his days. Seeing him so relaxed, so free from the weight of his responsibilities, made your heart swell with happiness.

Amidst the perpetual chaos in your kitchen, Kento walked over to the record player that sat in the corner of the kitchen. With a practiced hand, he carefully selected a vinyl and set it spinning.

The entire facet of the room was soon filled with the smooth, nostalgic tones of Paul Anka’s “Put Your Head on My Shoulder.” You gasp, knowing what this means. Almsot immediately, the soft, romantic melody seemed to wrap around the room, adding a layer of intimacy to the evening.

As the first notes of the song drifted through the air, your husband glanced over at you with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. He approached you, a playful smile on his lips. You couldn't help but shake your head bashfully as you smile back at him.

“I think this song calls for a dance, dearest darling.” he said, his voice gentle but insistent.

You looked at him, momentarily distracted from the task at hand. “A dance?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise. “While we’re cooking?”

Kento nodded, extending his hand toward you. “Why not? We can take a break. Besides, it’s a perfect song for it.”

With a laugh, you wiped your hands on a kitchen towel and allowed him to pull you gently away from the sink. The soft, inviting melody seemed to dissolve any lingering tension in the room, and you found yourself happily giving in to the spontaneous moment.

Your husband guided you to the center of the kitchen, the vinyl's music creating a romantic backdrop to the simple joy of dancing. He took your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. You rested your head against his shoulder, your body swaying gently to the rhythm of the song. His other hand rested comfortably on your waist, guiding your movements with a gentle precision that spoke of both affection and ease.

You felt a rush of giggles bubble up as Nanami’s hand found your back, pulling you closer. The softness of his embrace, combined with the slow, tender rhythm of the song, made you feel like you were the only two people in the world. The kitchen, with its cluttered countertops and simmering pots, seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the simple joy of being in his arms.

Your Kento's laughter joined yours, a warm, melodic sound that perfectly matched the mood of the evening. He spun you around gently, his gaze never leaving yours, and you felt a sense of pure contentment. The day had transformed from a series of routine tasks into a memorable, heartwarming experience.

As the song continued, you both danced slowly, savoring the moment. The gentle sway, the closeness, and the music created a cocoon of happiness that enveloped you both. It was a reminder that even in the midst of everyday chores, there could be magic and joy — a simple dance, a shared smile, and the warmth of each other’s company.

When the song finally ended, Nanami held you close for a moment longer, his hands resting lightly on your back. He looked down at you with a smile that spoke of deep affection and satisfaction.

“That was nice, wasn't it?” he said softly, his voice filled with warmth.

“It was perfect, my love.” you replied, your heart full. “Thank you for making this evening special.”

Kento's smile widened, and he gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Anytime, my darling.” he said. “It’s these little moments that make everything worthwhile.”

You both returned to the kitchen, the mood light and cheerful, ready to finish preparing dinner with renewed energy. The dance, though brief, had added a touch of magic to your day, a reminder that the simplest of moments could bring the greatest joy.

Later, as evening gently gave way to night, you found yourselves on the porch, wrapped in a soft, cozy blanket that covered you both from shoulders to toes. The air had cooled, carrying with it the faint scents of twilight and the promise of a peaceful night. The porch, usually a simple space, felt transformed into a haven of comfort and tranquility.

The sky was gradually darkening, and you could see the first stars beginning to appear, twinkling faintly against the deepening blue canvas. It was a stunning sight, the stars emerging one by one, like tiny, distant fires illuminating the vast expanse of the universe. The beauty of it was mesmerizing, and it added a sense of magic to the evening.

You leaned into your husband's own body. feeling his warmth and presence next to you. His arm was draped around your shoulders, holding you close in a way that felt both protective and tender. His hand clasped yours, fingers intertwined in a gentle embrace that spoke volumes without the need for words. The connection between you was palpable, a shared sense of contentment and peace.

As you both gazed up at the sky, the stars slowly becoming more prominent, a comfortable silence enveloped you. The occasional rustle of the wind through the trees, the distant chirping of crickets, and the soft hum of nighttime created a serene backdrop, enhancing the feeling of closeness and intimacy.

You turned your head slightly, catching Nanami’s profile illuminated by the soft glow of the porch light. His face was relaxed, his eyes reflecting the starlight, and there was a contented smile on his lips. It was in these quiet moments that you could see a side of him that was often hidden behind his usual composure — a side that was just as relaxed and at ease as you felt.

“It’s beautiful out here.” you said softly, your voice barely more than a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might break the spell of the evening. “It’s just so clear tonight.”

Nanami nodded, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. “It is. I’ve always enjoyed moments like these. The simplicity of it, the quiet.”

You sighed contentedly, the comfort of the blanket, the warmth of his embrace, and the beauty of the night sky all coming together to create a perfect sense of peace. “It’s perfect, isn’t it?” you said, your voice filled with heartfelt emotion. “It feels like everything is just as it should be.”

He turned his head slightly, his gaze meeting yours with a softness that made your heart flutter. “I feel the same way, my darling.” he replied, his voice tender. “It’s everything.”

As you both continued to watch the stars, you felt a profound sense of gratitude. It was in these quiet, shared moments that you found a deep connection, a shared understanding that transcended words. The stars above seemed to mirror the feelings in your heart — a sense of wonder, love, and perfect contentment.

The world outside, with all its complexities and challenges, felt distant and irrelevant in the face of this serene, intimate evening. Here, on the porch with your beloved husband by your side, wrapped in the warmth of the blanket and the comfort of each other’s presence, everything seemed to align perfectly.

For a moment, it felt like time had stopped, allowing you to savor the simplicity and beauty of the moment. With your beloved Kento’s hand in yours and the night sky stretching out above, you felt that everything was exactly as it was meant to be, and it was perfect. Nothing could ever get better than being with him. Nothing.

“Thank you, my darling.” he whispered suddenly, his voice barely more than a breath against the night.

“For what, my love?” you asked, tilting your head to look up at him.

“For reminding me that there’s more to life than just work, even if it’s just one day.” Kento replied, face tender with a smile. “For reminding me that… this is enough. You are enough.”

You leaned into him, your heart full. “You’re enough for me too, my love. My dearest beloved Kento.”

[steventhusiast]

modern au where eddie and robin are roommates and steve is italian <3

-

eddie has always known that his roommate robin is in the US for college, but grew up in and is from italy. sure, sometimes he forgets, because she somehow has a near-perfect american accent and also speaks two other languages, but he’s always known.

and for the past year and a bit, he’s known how much robin wants her best friend stevie to come visit. she talks about them all the time, and ever since she and eddie moved out of the dorms and into an apartment together for their next year of university a month ago, he’s known stevie is going to come and visit.

he just kind of forgot the exact day stevie would be arriving.

so when he, clad in nothing but his garfield pyjama pants and a metallica t-shirt that’s falling apart, walks into the kitchen one morning and sees someone he doesn’t know at the kitchen counter fiddling with their instant coffee machine, he almost shits himself.

luckily, he doesn’t, because he remembers in that split second that stevie was due to arrive last night. but he still flinches pretty hard at the fright and grabs for the nearest grabbable thing, which turns out to be the doorframe. somehow, he makes a noise loud enough to get the mystery person’s attention, and they turn around.

holy shit. eddie did not know stevie is hot. or that stevie’s actually a guy. he kind of just assumed, with the nickname and all? but the man standing there looks like he could’ve been carved by the gods eddie doesn’t believe in, and- eddie realises he’s been staring at the guy for a few seconds now, and decides to talk like a normal human being. he first adjusts his position so he’s no longer holding onto the archway of the kitchen for support, and smiles at the guy.

“hi, you must be stevie?” he offers, and stevie takes a few seconds to process his words before nodding with a smile.

“my name is steve. robbie just is… hm, silly?”

eddie blinks a couple times, because steve has an accent. a thick one. he should’ve expected that, because- hello? they’re both literally from italy. but it catches him off guard, and adds to steve’s hot factor. why didn’t robin warn him about this.

“yeah, robin is very silly.” he agrees with a chuckle, and then realises steve might not know him, “i’m eddie. robin’s roommate. you probably knew that already though, so now i probably look like an idiot. well- more of an idiot than i already do in these clothes…”

he lets his words trail off as he realises steve is frowning at him in subtle confusion. he’s picked up robin’s rambling-when-nervous habit over their friendship, and hot guys tend to make him pretty nervous. but then he realises maybe steve isn’t as fluent in english as robin is, and even if he is eddie’s a fast talker that doesn’t always pronounce things fully.

“i am sorry,” steve looks embarrassed, “my english is not as good as robin.”

eddie feels so guilty at the pink that’s made itself known on steve’s cheeks, and shakes his head immediately.

“no! you don’t need to be sorry. i just talk a lot when i’m nervous.” he confesses. why did he say that? now steve knows he’s nervous. or does he? maybe he didn’t catch his full sentence.

steve raises one eyebrow at eddie though, and one side of his mouth quirks up into a smile as he turns around to keep trying to make himself a cup of coffee.

“i am making you nervous? why?” steve asks, his back still turned. now eddie’s the one with red cheeks. dammit.

“it’s because eddie here thinks you’re hot, stevie.”

eddie’s flinch at robin’s magical appearance behind him is somehow more spectacular than earlier, and he clutches dramatically at his heart and spins around to glare at robin.

“robin! what the fuck, man!” he yelps when he realises what she’s said. but robin isn’t listening, she’s too busy speaking to steve in italian about who knows what.

probably about how she knows all eddie’s tells for when he finds a guy attractive and how she knows eddie’s type and steve checks every single box. or, eddie squints at the pair as robin tsks at steve and takes over manning the coffee machine, maybe robin’s just telling steve how to make a coffee with the machine?

“you think i am…” steve starts as he spins around to look at eddie, and seems to be searching for a word for a few moments, “attractive?”

eddie’s eyes widen, and then he sighs and fixes a glare on robin. robin just shrugs and makes a very insincere ‘oopsie’ expression, and eddie is about to start denying like his life depends on it, but he looks back at steve.

and steve has that blush back on his face, and a tiny smile, and he’s looking eddie up and down even in his ridiculous outfit.

“um, yes.” eddie practically squeaks, not used to having someone’s eyes on him like this.

steve says something to robin in italian that sounds like it ends with a question mark, and robin rolls her eyes.

“steve wants me to translate a pick up line he wants to use on you, but i literally refuse to do that. google translate is free.”

and with that, she leaves the kitchen.

[awearywritersworld]

i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you

sukuna x reader summary: you and sukuna go out for a late night meal. gojo finds out about your... relationship. sukuna is forced to take care of you when you come home drunk. w/c: 2.85k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. fluff. lots of banter. cursing. jealous/protective!sukuna. gojo being a flirt. aged up!yuuji. features a teeny bit of yuuji x reader. drinking and drunk!reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: i think i like how this turned out! also, the first two sections could def be read as a fluffy lil stand alone. idc whats happening in the canonverse, sukunas just a tsundere who adores us very much<3 series masterlist // masterlist

"maybe if you stare long enough, food will magically appear," sukuna calls to you from the kitchen table.

"this is no joking matter," you scold from your place in front of the fridge. "i'm starving."

"well, here's an absurd idea— let's go eat."

you turn toward him, finally closing the fridge, and tilt your head to the side. "you eat?"

"of course." he leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. "i typically prefer babies, but hell, i'd even go for an old man right now. i'm famished."

your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. he lets the panic simmer on your face for a few more cruel moments. "i'm kidding, idiot. i eat food, same as you."

"i knew that," you assert. the way your shoulders sag in relief tells him otherwise.

"right," he smirks. after standing up, he grabs your purse and tosses it in your direction. "where to? you're buying."

with only so many places open at midnight, you begin your journey to a 24 hour ramen shop.

you've hardly interacted with sukuna outside of your apartment, so this is certainly an experience you didn't anticipate. and in fact, you're shocked at how normal it feels— almost as if it's a date.

as you walk down the street, people eye him suspiciously because of the dark lines they assume are tattoos. it doesn't bother you though, nor does the lateness of the hour. you know that you're safe because you're with him.

your hands keep brushing against one another's, and you're hoping that he'll eventually take a hint and reach for yours. he doesn't (i mean come on, do you even know who you're dealing with?).

he does at least pick up on your pouty expression with impressive ease. "what now?"

"nothing," you huff.

"don't be a brat."

you sigh dramatically. "you're supposed to hold my hand."

"sure princess," he says condescendingly, lacing his fingers through yours. "maybe use your words next time like a big girl."

he doesn't fail to notice the ensuing skip in your step, and he kicks himself for regarding it as cute.

when you arrive at the ramen shop, sukuna orders no less than three bowls, which earns him a glare once the waitress walks away.

"when i agreed to pay, i didn't know what a glutton you are."

"oh yeah? cause i'm just the picture of temperance any other time?"

you scoff. "well you've got me there."

a sly smirk settles onto his face before he speaks again. "maybe one day you'll learn how greedy i am when it comes to the things i've deemed pleasurable."

you choke on the water you'd just brought to your lips, your face heating up as if it'd been bathed by fire.

wiping at your mouth, you try your best to recover quickly. "whatever, you hellion. as long as that doesn't involve a fourth bowl of ramen."

you're no more than 10 steps away from the shop when you hold out your hand to him. "ahem."

he grabs it roughly and not without rolling his eyes.

"what?" you ask innocently. "that was a word."

"hardly," he jeers. "for as much as you read, i'd expect you to be more fluent than a child."

"and at 1000 years old, i'd expect you to be more charming than a teenage boy, but i guess we're both making concessions."

"see, this is the part that puzzles me. you never seem to have trouble with your words when you're being insolent."

"maybe it's a sign," you begin whimsically. "the universe decided you need to be taken down a peg."

"ah, yes. you as the executor of the universe's will. i don't know why i couldn't see it before."

you giggle, rather delighted that he's elected to play along with your quips. there's something that feels so warm and pleasant about it.

as you wonder if he feels it too, your hand tightens around his.

you're not quite ready to head back to your apartment just yet, because you're scared you'll lose the atmosphere surrounding the two of you. in truth, it's a bit intoxicating.

the perfect opportunity arises when you spot a small park up ahead. lights are strung around the trees, all of which are situated around a small fountain.

"we should stop at that park!" you hardly finish speaking before you take off in that direction, tugging him along behind you.

after you plop down on the fountain's ledge, sukuna takes his place beside you.

"let's sit here for a little while."

he doesn't respond and you take his silence as agreement. he's not really one to stifle his grievances.

as the minutes pass, the rush of the fountain is the only noise that fills the air, while you gaze at the trees with a serene expression.

sukuna, however, is looking at you. the only care he has for the trees is the way their lights reflect in your eyes. otherwise, he's fully occupied by the curve of your nose and the fullness of your lips.

"isn't this pretty?" you finally ask.

"it's pretty," he agrees, even when such a soft word feels foreign on his tongue.

his eyes still haven't left you, and you seem to be oblivious to this fact until he reaches up to stroke your cheek with the back of fingers.

when your gaze lands on him, the fondness written all over his face catches you off guard and you realize how close the both of you are. without really thinking about it, you lean into his touch.

"very pretty," he repeats lowly, as if he's talking to himself.

your heart lurches once in your chest, then hammers away at your ribcage without respite. he leans toward you a fraction of an inch, his eyes flicking down to your lips for a brief second.

truthfully, sukuna has never felt the way he does in this moment. it's a sincere sort of desire. he doesn't want the mindless devotion he once thirsted for from his followers. and he doesn't want the sex he used to crave from his concubines.

no. he just wants you— in whatever capacity you're willing to have him.

the way he's looking at you is just too much. there's a dull thudding in your ears and you swear your thoughts are moving at a million miles a minute.

so naturally, you blurt out the first thing you can manage. "we should take a selfie!"

his face shifts from whatever that expression was to one of confusion. "take a selfie?"

some twisted mix of relief and disappointment crashes through you.

"yeah, a selfie. a picture together. ya know, since the park is so pretty," you ramble.

he pulls away from you. not all the way, but enough that it gives you space to finally breath. he chuckles and it doesn't sound lofty like it so often does. in fact, he seems genuinely amused by you.

"a selfie," he deliberates. "that sounds great, but to the best of my knowledge, hell hasn't frozen over."

and just like that, your dynamic feels like it did during your walk from the ramen shop to the park— comfortable and fun.

"well i guess you would be one of the first to know."

ignoring his protests, you take out your phone and hold it far enough away that the camera captures both of your faces. you can see on the screen that he's put on an expression of complete boredom.

"c'mon," you nudge him with your elbow. "you look like you hate me."

the corner of his mouth curves upward. "that's because i do."

you think back on the way he was gazing at you just moments ago and laugh. "you're so full of shit."

then, without warning, you press a kiss to his cheek and click the button.

you decide that his vague look of contented surprise will just have to do.

when you and yuuji walk into the bar, you immediately spot one of the people you're there to meet. he's sitting at a hightop by himself, his snow white hair pretty hard to miss.

you tap his shoulder and his face breaks out into a grin. he slides out of the barstool. "if it isn't my favorite civilian!"

as he pulls you into a hug, you wonder if he's ever going to get tired of that joke. "if it isn't my favorite old man."

"35 is not old," he argues, moving to greet yuuji. "i'm still in the summer of my life, thank you very much!"

"gojo you're 36," the pink haired man remarks.

"gah! such betrayal, yuuji!" he presses his hand to his forehead and takes a deep breath. "now i'm going to need another round."

"i'll go and get drinks for all of us," you offer. "you two stay here so no one takes the table."

before either of them can respond, you turn and begin making your way through the crowd. you don't hear gojo when he calls out, "but darling! i should go with you!"

he takes a step in your direction, but stops when sukuna's mouth appears on yuuji's cheek. "you certainly should not, you insufferable half wit."

"relax, dude. he flirts with literally everyone," yuuji informs him.

gojo scoffs. "i am right here—"

"as if that makes it better?" sukuna barks. "she isn't some toy to be played with."

"of course she isn't! you can't honestly think i'd believe otherwise."

gojo is left forgotten for a moment as the other two bicker, so he interjects once there's a lull in the conversation. "do either of you care to explain what the hell is going on?"

yuuji turns toward him, trying and failing to hide the embarrassment on his face once he realizes that gojo is, in fact, still standing there.

his eyebrows are raised above his sunglasses and it's clear he is inappropriately amused by the situation (what else is new?). he moves to sit across from the younger man, looking at him expectantly.

having no way to talk himself out of this, yuuji relays the recent events regarding you and sukuna, sparing some of the finer details. gojo's face doesn't really betray much emotion throughout the story, though he does look thoughtful by the end of it.

leaning forward, he crosses his arms on top of the table. "maybe your feelings for her are influencing his own, forcing a sort of bond between them?"

"i don't think so," yuuji contends honestly. "other than her, you're the person i admire and respect the most, but he thinks—"

"that you are perhaps the most imbecilic rampallion i've ever had the displeasure of coming across."

gojo jerks back, as if the insult had hit him squarely in the jaw. the look of giddiness from yuuji's compliment, followed by the shift to indignation at sukuna's insult is almost comical.

he stretches his neck forward, cupping his hand around one side of his mouth as if it'd keep sukuna from hearing. "what'd he just call me?"

yuuji shrugs. "beats me, but i don't think he was singing your praises."

"i see your point." gojo pauses, glancing over his shoulder. you're approaching the table, so he turns back to yuuji and quickly adds, "we'll talk more about this another time, but for now, keep this between us."

a few moments later, you appear in front of them and exclaim, "look who i found!"

megumi and inumaki situate themselves around the table too, offering their greetings. you slide yuuji and gojo their drinks, both of which are filled to the brim of the glass. "now then gentlemen, shall we?"

when gojo teleports you and yuuji back to your apartment that night, it takes everything in you to keep from yakking all over your carpet.

"ta ta, hooligans!"

you turn to request that he never do that again, but he's already gone. taking one step forward, you promptly fall on your ass in the entryway with an unforgiving thud. yuuji staggers toward the couch, making it there just in time to face plant into the cushions.

looking down toward your shoes, you're dismayed to find that each one appears to have two sets of laces. you're fumbling with them determinedly when someone crouches down in front of you, their elbows resting on their thighs.

he doesn't say a word. brushing your hands away, he unties your shoes and carefully pulls them off your feet. you're lifted from the floor before you can register the arm that's looped under your knees or the other that's securely around your back.

"careful," you hiccup, your head falling into the crook of his neck. "'m gunna p-puke."

"i'd rather you didn't."

you groan. "s'not like i 'ave a choice in the matter."

he hums. "how much did you drink?"

"dunno. sss'much. nobara—" you hiccup again. "nobara n' maki made me."

he chuckles, placing you down on what you figure is your bed. "right, i'm sure you had no choice in the matter."

"tha's correct, yes."

unbuttoning your jeans, he tugs upward on your belt loops. "lift."

you do as he says, lifting your hips from the bed so he can slide your jeans off your legs. he knows you won't remember this— hell, your eyes are already closed— but he looks away as he does it anyway.

pulling your phone from your pocket and putting it on the charger, your pants are discarded off to the side. he only turns his head back in your direction once he's pulled the blankets up over your body.

"tuck me in?" you request.

sitting down on the bed beside you, he does so without protest.

he stares at you for a little while, worried about how poorly you're probably going to feel in the morning. he presses a kiss to your forehead, intending to get up and grab a water bottle for your nightstand.

instead, his body freezes when he hears you mumble, "i love you s'much."

his heart clenches so painfully, he honestly considers ripping it from his chest— it would probably be less agonizing.

but a thought that makes him feel like a fool occurs to him. of course it's not him that you love. "i'm not yuuji."

"well, duuuhhh. you're s'kuna." you're peering up at him through tired, hazy eyes. it's the first time you've ever seen him look bewildered, so a small giggle erupts from your throat. "s'okay. you don't 'ave t'say it back."

your eyes flutter shut and your breathing evens out before he even thinks to respond. all at once, it's as if his head is empty and as if it's about to explode.

love?

what does he know about love? it's a sentiment he's cursed for so long, but sitting here beside you, he can't quite seem to remember why. one thing he is sure of, however, is that there's never been a thing in the world he's loved.

suddenly, he's struck with remembrance of a quote from jane eyre you had emphasized with messy underlines:

"after a youth and manhood passed half in unutterable misery and half in dreary solitude, i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you. you are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel. i am bound to you with a strong attachment. i think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one."

rochester says it as he begs jane to stay at thornfield with him, an act sukuna had previously regarded as ridiculous, but is that still the case?

were you to ever scorn him, would he fall to his knees and plead with you to change your mind? or if you were in danger of dying, would he drag himself to a shrine and pray to the gods he doesn't believe in?

is that what love is?

could he stand to be apart from you? are you special to him? does anything else in the world compare to you? does he seek out your company? is he consumed by you? can he know himself without knowing you?

does the definition of love lie in those questions?

sukuna hopes not, because he's terrified of the answers. being in love is not his way, nor is it in his nature.

he buries his face in his hands as realization settles into his bones. it feels as if they're splintering beneath the pressure, trying resentfully to stave it off.

he transcends any imaginable scale of power. he's bled entire villages dry, he's commandeered death, he's the king of curses.

so why now? and why you? is it divine retribution? a sick sort of joke that even he couldn't have dreamed up?

gods, you were right. the universe has sent you to carry out its will and he's completely powerless to stop it.

the worst part of it all? he doesn't want to.

taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @thepup356 @risuola *users in bold could not be tagged

[whyamihereat4am]

Death Note AU where L isn't fluent in Japanese and Light isn't fluent in English, so instead of their conversations having ridiculously long pauses due to 5 minute internal monologues, it's because every time one of them speaks the other has to discreetly whip out a dictionary and flip through it before responding (they are both pretending to speak the language better than they actually do because they're idiots)

[rad-batson]

Damian Wayne: Figure Skater

or: Damian Wayne Fluff Because Damian Wayne Deserves Joy and Happiness <3

Damian Wayne prides himself on being good at everything he does. He never half-asses anything.

Damian has tried tons of different skills before. He’s mastered dozens of martial arts, become fluent in over thirty languages, earned several PhDs, and he’s not even a teenager yet. Why? He needs to be the best or it’s not good enough.

But there are only so many skills that give him the same joy as when he started. Studio art is his favorite and has always been a constant for him, but he’s yet to find something else. Something that truly invigorates him.

At 12, Damian watches the Winter Olympics with Dick. It’s his first ever time viewing the Olympics, and he doesn’t really know what he was expecting, but Damian is…kind of underwhelmed.

Everyone talked about how the Olympics are supposed to be this grandiose display of the world’s talents, but most of it’s pretty boring.

Curling is boring. Alpine is slow and monotonous. Bobsledding is repetitive, and sled dog racing seems unethical.

But then figure skating comes on. And Damian is captivated.

Without even realizing, he moved right in front of the television and watched an hour of figure skating uninterrupted. Dick notices and smiles.

“Aren’t they cool?” Dick asks. Damian, with his eyes still glued to the screen, nods. “Wanna go to the local rink with me and try it out? It’s even more fun than it looks.”

That pulls Damian out of his trance, and he closes himself off. “No. I don’t need to.”

He just thought it was cool, okay? And he totally doesn’t want to try it himself. And he totally isn’t worried that he won’t be good at it and fall like an idiot in front of his older brother if he does.

It’s just that…it’s so cool!!

Damian knows agility, okay? He can do flips and tricks with ease, and he knows how to do it with both grace and poise. But these people? They can do it on ice! With blades on their feet!!

OF COURSE DAMIAN WANTS TO DO COOL TRICKS WITH SHARP BLADES STRAPPED TO HIS FEET

Admittedly, he goes through a two-month-long period of pretending he isn’t dying to try it. He almost completely forgets. Then, by complete coincidence, Cass and Duke invite him to an indoor skating rink, and he caves. Maybe it’s not that hard.

Spoiler: Figure Skating is Hard

Within five seconds, he falls flat on his face. How do people do this? Cass and Duke say it’s normal, but he still refuses to leave the wall the whole time out of shame.

Once they’re home, however, Damian realizes how stupid that was. He’s Damian Wayne Al Ghul. He can’t just give up! What would the rest of his family think?! What if they go back one day, and he just falls flat on his face again? There’s no excuse the second time, and he doesn’t want the others to think he can’t do it.

So that night, he sneaks back into the rink after hours and tries again. And again. And again. And again.

On the fifth try, he is able to make it all the way around the rink. He realizes that he’s distributing his weight wrong. (Stupid mistake, of course. He’s essentially balancing on knives.) That makes it a lot easier, but he’s still flapping his arms around like a bird.

He spends two more hours improving his balance, then decides that’s good enough. He did what he came here to do, and he doesn’t need to come back.

Two days later, he comes back. (I mean, who knows? Maybe, he’s gotten better.) He didn’t, obviously. But what harm is there in spending some more time on the ice? Other than the collection of bruises he acquires.

He falls way more than he’d like to admit, but once he teaches himself how to do that safely, it’s actually kind of fun. He circles the rink countless times, figures out to start and stop (though it is admittedly a very ungraceful way of stopping.) He can even kind of control his speed.

So he’s done, right? He did it! He can now ice skate to a degree that isn’t mortifying for a beginner. He doesn’t need to come back.

The Short Program

One week and four visits later, he admits that he is hooked. He wants to see how far he can go with this. But he can’t just improve without proper guidance, so he decides to take Tim’s advice for once and use the internet.

That’s when he really starts improving. Exponentially. He pours over articles and videos and diagrams about gliding, stopping, pivots, crossovers, and finally some simple spins. Just basics, of course.

He also purchases his own pair of skates because the rental ones he’s been “borrowing” suck. And they smell. And he forges a membership card (you know, so there’s no paper trail.)

His original goal is to make it to free skate level, but once he’s there, he can’t stop. It’s just so gratifying to add another skill to his repertoire. If he can do front crossovers, then he can surely master them backward. Closed Mohawks shouldn’t be that bad if the open Mohawks were so easy. Before he knows it, he’s spending hours every week developing his skills.

After a few months, his improvement plateaus because the jumps prove difficult. He doesn’t know how to build up the speed, and his stealth and fighting techniques (which he’s been borrowing from thus far) just make him wipe out. So he works on that for a bit and tries to figure out what he’s doing wrong.

During a JL meeting, The Flash happens to mention a rogue who used to figure skate. Lisa Snart, or the Golden Glider, is a famous figure skater from the 90s, but she was kicked from the Olympic team due to her life of crime. Now, she jumps between both petty crime and vigilantism.

Damian tracks her down and claims to be researching the sport for a school assignment. Yeah, it’s a bit thin of a cover story. If she wanted to see through his lie, she’d only have to break into his school and check his teacher’s assignment book, but once he laments about how every other skater is busy, and he was so surprised to learn that she was no longer skating when she’s clearly so talented, Lisa happily tells him all of the secrets to the sport.

For a few months, he applies her techniques and even asks her to skate for him a few times, recording her from multiple angles. “I value the quality of my education,” he explains. She sees through the lie but doesn’t say anything. (And somehow, he doesn’t particularly care.)

In the coming year, Bruce notices a change in how Robin moves during patrol. If he had to describe it…well, there’s a lot more power behind his movement. He redistributes his momentum with ease, which proves extremely valuable. There’s more height to his jumps and speed in his attacks. On top of it all, he can reorient himself quicker.

Bruce praises Damian once they’re back at the cave and even allows him more freedom during missions. Damian totally doesn’t cry about it in his room.

The Free Skate

Damian refuses to let anyone watch him practice for YEARS to save his pride. I mean, yes, he’s at free skate level 5—thanks, Lisa—but he’s not at level 6 yet! And that won’t take too long, right? Maybe they can know once he’s mastered his quad axel (which is a totally doable goal. He’s not overachieving. He’s Damian Wayne Al Ghul.)

Next, he works on transitions. At first, he copies other skaters’ forms, then he slowly develops his own. It’s sharp in some ways and fluid in others like he’s been on ice his whole life but he’s got places to be.

At about 15 or 16, he invites Jon to come with him one day. He shows him “a few spins” (triple axels) and Jon immediately starts encouraging him to join some kind of showcase or competition.

Damian’s response is “No! I’m not good enough yet. I still can’t land a quad axel. That’s insulting.”

Cue Jon’s family-friendly “bitch please” face. He says, “Okay, but you need to show someone else. I can’t be the only person in the world who knows.” so they get Billy in on it.

He’s obviously good at keeping secrets, considering he hid his age and the fact he was homeless from the JL for five years.

Billy also loses his shit, but he’s more understanding about the “I don’t want to tell anyone else” thing. Thus, Jon and Billy become Damian’s cover for every time he’s caught sneaking out. (He was running out of excuses anyway.)

Bruce hears that Damian is hanging out with Jon and Billy every week, gives him a look, and tells him he’s proud that he’s making friends.

Damian nods along, thanking all the gods in Billy’s head that his secret is safe. If Bruce doesn’t have any reason to snoop, then he won’t. Simple as that. The greatest detective in the world doesn’t need to start snooping.

During the next Winter Olympics, Damian watches every single skating performance from the comfort of his room. (Tim can hear him yelling at his TV through the walls but doesn’t have the energy to question it.)

Jon and Billy are his cheerleaders. They go out for lunch then head to the rink with him and mess around while Damian practices. Sometimes, they spend all day together. Doing homework, gossiping, playing fun little games.

Damian keeps mentioning the quad axel to them until Jon looks it up and says, “Um, hey Dami? Apparently, the quad axel is like…almost physically impossible. You know that, right?“ “If Lisa Snart and Ilia Malinin can do it, so can I.” “Okay, Mr. PhD.” Still, they don’t doubt him for a second.

Damian teaches them some stuff during a public skate in Fawcett City. Jon cheats multiple times by floating a tiny bit to keep his balance. Billy falls a lot.

As much as he likes being with his friends, though, Damian finds himself skating more to clear his head rather than to improve or socialize.

When he has a bad patrol or gets into some trouble he could have avoided, he’ll sneak into the rink alone and skate for hours.

He’ll pour all of his frustration into the music and carve it out into the ice until he’s exhausted and lying down with the cold surface against his back, letting it sink some sense into him.

It’s a good outlet. Kind of like his art, but there are only so many pencils you can snap in anger before your dad cuts your art supply budget. Bruce doesn’t know about this yet.

Six months later, when Damian lands his first quad axel in front of Jon and Billy, they all scream for five consecutive minutes and celebrate with hot chocolate and sorbet.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Tim asks when he’s back home. Damian tries to hide his smile but fails spectacularly. “Oh, nothing.” He’s never had a problem with schooling his emotions before, but anything is possible now. Even a quad fucking axel.

Competition Season

During patrol one day, Dick sees Damian spinning on the roof and says, “Hey, where’d you get those sick ballet moves? Did Black Bat teach you that?” Damian immediately stops and says, “Uh yeah.” Thankfully, Dick doesn’t ask Cass to confirm.

At 17, Jason catches him sneaking out at 10 pm and unknowingly opens an entire can of worms.

Damian, too tired to make a good excuse: “I’m seeing Jon.” Jason: “Like a date?” Damian, dying inside: “…Don’t tell Baba.”

At 18, he’s able to reliably land the quad axel and do it with style. It’s almost more gratifying than punching criminals in the face. (Almost.) That’s when Jon and Billy finally bring up the idea of telling others about it.

Damian is still hesitant, but he thinks about it.

I mean, he’s made a lot of progress in six years, hasn’t he? The only other thing he’s spent so long practicing was his assassin training, then his vigilantism, and his art. But this one is special because it’s just his. (And Jon and Billy. Kinda.) And getting to show off to them is fun, especially when he perfects another element, and they got batshit crazy together over it. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? Having a few more people to mess around with in the rink?

He just doesn’t know if it’ll be impressive enough. After all, his entire family is great at stuff. Bruce is the world’s greatest detective—how he hasn’t learned about this yet, Damian doesn’t know. Dick is a beyond incredible acrobat. Jason has one of the highest proficiencies in marksmanship ever. Tim is the best bo staff user on this side of the Atlantic...

...And Damian can do jumps and tricks on the ice. Wow, cool. Good job, Damian.

But then he’s twelve again. And he’s sitting in front of the TV watching Yuzuru Hanyu and Yuna Kim do triple axels, and Dick is inviting him to try it out together. And Cass and Dick are taking him to the rink because they thought it’d be fun. And Lisa is rambling about how she misses skating competitively. And Bruce is telling him he’s proud of the progress Damian’s made both inside and outside of patrol. And Tim is telling him he looks happier than usual.

He is happier.

Yeah. Maybe, they deserve to know.

He agrees to sign up for a free skate competition. But not one in Gotham. And only a small one. He wants to test out the waters first. They find one that’s a month away, and Damian signs up.

When the day comes, Damian is shaking in his skates. He did not account for a “small competition” still having over two hundred people watching. What the fuck was he thinking?

What Jon and Billy don’t tell him is that they snuck Dick into the crowd to watch. Dick has no idea what he’s doing there until he sees Damian skate out to the middle in a red and grey top with black pants and matching skates.

He performs to Beggin’ by Måneskin and starts the performance out with his quad axel.

Everyone loses their shit.

He looks so genuinely excited when he’s skating. He completely ignores the hundreds of people watching, doesn’t count points. He just jams out to the song until he’s breathless, spinning and gliding and jumping and turning to the beat, mostly showing off to Jon and Billy like he always does.

When it’s over, he just hears this massive crowd of people screaming, and then overtop of it, Dick shouts, “THAT’S MY BABY BROTHER!!” and Damian almost falls flat on his face.

Dick uses the Emergency Group Chat to send a video of Damian skating then screams into the phone to Bruce, who immediately drives out to the rink with the rest of the family, and his siblings make Damian do it over once the place is cleared out because they can’t believe they missed it.

Dick: When did you learn to figure skate?! Damian: After we watched the Olympics together. Dick: You’ve been hiding this for SIX YEARS?!?! Damian: …It looked fun.

Of course, Damian is still the son of Bruce Wayne so tabloids eat it up.

“Damian Wayne: Figure Skating Prodigy” “Wayne Prodigy Wins Gold at Regional Figure Skating Competition, Baffling Judges” “Is Damian Wayne fit to represent the US during the next Winter Olympics??”

A swarm of coaches ask Damian if he would like to skate competitively but he declines. He just likes doing it for fun.

Thankfully, the performance was recorded by the competition holders (after a suspicious request from the CEO of Wayne Enterprises last week. Wow, wonder why)

Leave it to Damian to spend his rebellious phase becoming an Olympic-level athlete.

[morganbritton132]

in the emtts universe, do you think eddie and/or steve would watch movies in other languages with robin? like, my friend and i - she's french and i'm indian so she watches bollywood romances with me and i watch french romances with her every sunday :-)

First, that’s an adorable thing to do with your friend and I think it’s very sweet that you and your friend take a vested interest in each other’s culture.

I can see Steve and Eddie both watching films in foreign languages with Robin separately.

Like, Steve ends up watching a lot of foreign films with Robin by proxy.

Robin insists that the only want to keep a language is to be immersed in the culture and since there’s not a lot of culture in Hawkins that isn’t painfully Americana, she rents out the abysmally small foreign film section from Family Video constantly. Since Steve is with her a lot, he is also immersed in these cultures.

He complains but he also secretly loves it.

He loves how into the movies Robin gets. He loves how passionately she explains it to him. He loves trying to figure out the plots and how she lights up when he gets it right, but he loves it even more when he gets it wrong.

Robin likes a lot of arthouse films that don’t have linear timelines or that are meandering to the point of confusion so sometimes Steve misses the mark completely, but it’s okay. They’ve spent hours after a movie, telling two different stories about what they just watched and Robin never seems upset that Steve just didn’t get it.

Eddie ends up watching films in foreign languages with Robin out of necessity.

In like a ‘my world famous band is about to tour Europe and I just realized that I only speak English but you keep correcting how I do that so maybe I don’t keep English too good either’ kind of necessity to which Robin responded, “Jesus Christ.”

Eddie got a passport and then realized that Gareth took three years of French, Grant spoke fluent German with his grandmother all the time, and Jeff was passable with Spanish, and Eddie. Gee, Eddie was going to look like the biggest idiot on the planet – “Or, you’ll just look like an American.”

“That’s even worse!” Eddie despaired, draping himself across the counter of Family Video. “Help me, Robin-wan, you’re my only hope.”

Help to Robin was an English to Spanish dictionary and a bunch of study material, but help to Eddie was the Italian Giallo he picked up in Indianapolis last week because that was more fun. She sent Eddie off to Europe with an English to Spanish dictionary and a ‘good luck.’

It did not help.

[yrbladie]

♡ ﾟ˖ ॱ ▎HOW DO THEY MEET AND FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU .ㅤPT 2ㅤ𝅄 🌿 ꒱

˖ ࣪ neuvillette, thoma

warnings ：slight angst at the end with neuvillette with implied body and death (yours), hurt no comfort at the end with thoma, childhood friends to lovers with thoma, got carried away in thoma's piece srry, contains some hc about when he left mond too, gn!reader, reader has hair(?), reader really loves mondstadt lol, spoiler free (kinda), non fluent writer

ㅤYou were a delivery person, meaning you always had to be the one to receive weird requests from all over Teyvat. Varying from bringing a single tomato all the way over to Snezhnaya, to this new request.

ㅤA container with water from the highest peak of Dragonspine. You didn't even know there was water in the highest places there.

ㅤBut work was work, and no matter how weird the request was, it was your job to attend to it being the adventurer you were.

ㅤAnd as you finally carried back the water container to Fontaine again, your eyelashes almost gluing themselves onto your cheeks and your trembling jaw, you swore you would have so many things to say to whoever was the idiot that asked for it.

ㅤBut as you entered the huge office after having to convince the Melusine outside that the policies of your company made you have to see the person who commissioned you directly receive the item so that she would finally let you inside, you regretted even having these thoughts in your head.

ㅤOf course you had imagined that it would be someone rich for being able to afford such a distant trip and an adventurer just for water. But the Judge of Fontaine himself? You would’ve never expected that.

ㅤNow all your insides felt exactly like your skin, ice and frigid cold.

ㅤYou were trembling — not just from the cold— as you gave him the package he had asked for. And no words came out of your mouth to complain about anything.

ㅤYou were ready to promptly leave before you heard a baritone tone of voice call for you.

ㅤ“I thank you for your trouble. And… excuse me if this may sound rude on my part, but I noticed you seem cold, allow me to fetch you a warm drink as an apology for inconveniencing you.”

ㅤYou turned around completely dumbfounded as you stared at Monsieur Neuvillette's stoic face. He seemed pretty serious and looking closely into his eyes, he also almost seemed guilty. He had seen your trembling hands and assumed it was his fault. And it was, just not for the exact reasons he was thinking.

ㅤAt that you finally smiled. Maybe, just maybe you could forgive this man for making you almost freeze to death.

ㅤYou both ended up becoming friends quickly thanks to that encounter, you were always amused with Neuvillette's curiosity towards your adventures around the world and of course, with his weirdly endearing hobby of tasting water.

ㅤYou could even swear that after tasting for a few weeks with him, Mondstadt's water seemed to get a tad bit sweeter than the others.

ㅤAs for Neuvillette, he found your strength so impressive and worth admiring that he couldn't help but want to get closer, despite his position. He had a front to maintain but seeing you acting always so carefree and true to yourself had him wanting to become more like you.

ㅤOf course, he couldn't exactly just throw everything to the air and go live with you in an isolated cottage in the middle of nowhere—although he wished he could.

ㅤBut instead, he could love you, he figured one day. When he looked at your smile and how you paid attention to every small little detail about those around you, and how you always asked what he liked first, how you were always just right there somewhere when he felt like needing you the most, or how you cradled his heart with care on rainy days every time you whispered to the skies, "Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don't cry".

ㅤHe loved you. And that was the best thing he could've ever done in his long life.

ㅤAnd one day, Neuvillette promised you, as he carefully held your hand, "I promise, my love, I won't ever hurt you.", and you could feel how your heart melted around his warm embrace.

ㅤHe loved your mortal soul and human heart, he loved the hands that gently clasped his and that held his cheeks with care, and he adored the places that you walked upon and the people you cared about.

ㅤOne day, he'll envy even the earth that'll wrap your body and the wind that'll carry your last breath.

ㅤEven then, don't you worry about his love for you, for his love is for your soul, not the body or the heart that exists only at the present time. The soul is enduring, and his soul calls for yours. And he knows, one day you'll be back in his arms or he will go meet you himself, wherever may you be.

ㅤFor all eternity, just as you both promised to each other. In this life, and all others. He'll find you and love you all over again.

ㅤYou both used to be the closest of best friends, in Mondstadt there was no one who didn't know the two kids who were always running around together. You, being the one that always caused trouble, and Thoma, being the one that always took you out of said trouble.

ㅤMany would ask, how did such a pair meet?

ㅤAnd the answer was a silly secret only the both of you were to know.

ㅤYou had received a cute small plush puppy as a birthday gift, given to you by your parents. You were so happy with it that you decided to take your new friend for a stroll around the city.

ㅤYou had cherished the plushie so much that you clutched it tightly in your small hands. Then the vibrant threads of your favorite toy met an unexpected fate when a pair of overenthusiastic dogs that were running around the street collided with you in a whirlwind of fur and excitement.

ㅤAll that was left after the dogs went their ways was the audible sound of a kid crying while their plushie laid torn and forlorn on the ground.

ㅤYou didn't even remember how much you had cried, under a tree while holding to your chest the shreds of what was left of the plushie. All the filling leaking out of its body and all the small you could do was try to hold on to its pieces.

ㅤ"Hey... hey, excuse me. Is this yours?" And when you looked up to see, you found yourself staring right into the empty eyes of a ripped plushie dog's head that was without its body.

ㅤYou ended up crying even harder at the sight, as the boy, who seemed to be just a few years older than you, helplessly waved his hands in front of you, quickly deciding to hide the poor looking piece of your plushie.

ㅤInstead of immediately leaving at the sight of you crying, he sat by your side, while silently helping you to pick the scattered pieces around that kept falling down from your arms. He didn't say anything but you had never felt more comforted before.

ㅤHe waited and waited, right there, never leaving your side, until the loud sobs turned to sniffles.

ㅤ"Sorry to have scared you! I'm Thoma, by the way." And smiled. His smile, it was like a ray of sunshine in the middle of your storm.

ㅤYou couldn't help but smile along with him.

ㅤAs he gathered the pieces of your toy in his arms, he kept a gentle smile on his lips while saying, "It's going to be fine! Mama taught me how to take good care of stuffed animals." and you felt like you could believe his words.

ㅤHe was your knight in shining armor, although armed with not a sword and a shield, but with a needle and thread. And so he began a journey of intricate repair.

ㅤSoon, it was as good as new before you even noticed. The only thing being the red colored thread that now mended the little dog plushie.

ㅤ"Are you afraid of dogs now?" You remembered he asked, your answer being only a meek nod, "Hm, it's okay! But I'm sure they didn't mean to destroy your plushie, they must have also liked it so much that they couldn't help but go after it."

ㅤYou understood what he had meant, but it was still hard not to tremble and clutch your stuffed animal closer to your chest at the sight of a dog wandering the streets close to where you were.

ㅤ"So... why don't you come with me and we can make some toys for them? This way, they'll never even need to go after yours! Here, I'll hold your hand if you're scared." And you happily followed him at that, your fear completely forgotten.

ㅤThe days that followed were filled with adventures and shared secrets, your friendship blossoming like the wildflowers in the meadow where you both often played.

ㅤMondstadt now seemed to be filled with much more laughter in the breeze, the melody of kids' bright happiness surrounding the city freely.

ㅤAs the years unfolded, so did your affection for each other. Unspoken glances lingered a little longer, and the laughter between you held a melody only the heart could comprehend. The stitches that once mended a torn plushie now seemed to mend the very fabric of your emotions, drawing the both of you closer with each passing day.

ㅤEven after a long time, the plushie that had been stitched up was still holding on, placed upon the desk by your bed. A forever reminder of the day you met Thoma, the boy with a shining smile and sun colored hair.

ㅤAnd only time, with its subtle hands, could reveal whether this story would unfold into a timeless tale of love or remain as a fond memory.

ㅤThe answer to that question arrived quicker than the both of you had expected. With the parting of Thoma's father back to his homeland, Inazuma. Such a faraway land that you had barely known it existed.

ㅤYou thought nothing of it, of the way your friend's eyes would sometimes wander off to the ocean, seeking a kind of solace not even you could give him.

ㅤUntil one day, the boy you had known the longest came looking for you, a guilty look on his face and you knew then that all was over.

ㅤ"Sorry, but tomorrow I'm going to Inazuma to look for my father."

ㅤHis excuse was Dandelion wine, saying that his father would miss it too much. And you wondered if that was truly all.

ㅤThoma's hands had always been warm, but now they were cold as he held yours tightly as you paid your goodbyes to each other. You saw how they trembled as he turned around to join the boat that would take him to far away. Far away from his home, and from you.

ㅤThe town that witnessed your love story seemed to stay frozen in time, a silent witness to the fleeting nature of youthful promises. The cedar trees, though rooted firmly in the earth, could only watch as the love that once flourished beneath their branches transformed into a bittersweet goodbye. With words left unsaid.

ㅤSo many things happened that you would never know, and Thoma was left completely lost in an unknown nation and without his father. Before he got to know the Kamisato family and make colleagues over the land.

ㅤThoma also used to write letters addressed to you, even though he knew none of them would ever reach your hands as the decree started, and some, he never even had the courage to send.

ㅤIn them, he would let his quiet longing show, wondering if you were happy and healthy, if you weren't moping around too much after him leaving. He missed just being by your side while you told him about your day.

ㅤIn some, he expressed his regret. He regretted leaving behind those days of laughter between the breeze, leaving behind the chance of breathing in the smell of flowers in your hair. In those, he apologized more than once, he felt like he should somehow. Maybe he was the only one to blame, in the end.

ㅤIn the letters, he wondered if you had found someone you liked already. If you had found your place after all. If you had made friends. If you were eating well or if you still had your bad habits of taking off anything green from your food to give it to him.

ㅤAfter all, he wasn't there anymore to eat those, so you should eat them in his stead.

ㅤThoma wondered if you were disappointed with him, maybe even angry. He wondered if you knew how he forced himself to stare at your saddened face the last time you both saw each other. To look at your eyes that were getting redder by the second and wishing with his everything that you wouldn't cry, because he knew that if you did, his resolve to leave would wither in an instant.

ㅤStill, he kept his eyes on you, until he couldn't see the shore of Mondstadt anymore. Until all he could see was the endless ocean that seemed to mock the stream of tears that ran across his cheeks. Maybe deep down, he knew that was the last time he would see you. Somehow he knew, and he blamed the gut-feeling you always praised him for, the one that always took the both of you off any trouble.

ㅤAnd the one that above all times, the one time he should've listened to it, he ignored.

ㅤAnd above all the things Thoma wondered about, the one he wondered the most is if he would ever see you again.

ㅤBecause perhaps he still loved you.

ㅤFor you, you never wished for him to leave but you also knew that your presence would never be enough to make him stay. To forsake his worry for his father.

ㅤThere, at the Mondstadt port where you saw Thoma last, you wished you could have held his hand and never had let go. But instead, all you did was gently smile, tell him to write often, and wish him the best.

ㅤAfter months of waiting that eventually turned to an entire year, one day it dawned on you. Thoma would probably never come back.

ㅤAnd you wished, more than anything, that you could say that your life was empty and bleak without his sunlight smile there, but it wasn't. Life had kept going without him. You had made new friends and even found a job with your parents in the nation you loved the most.

ㅤYour life was still happy, and maybe that was what hurt the most. Knowing that it was probably the same with him. And you would be left wondering if he felt as much guilt as you did at that.

ㅤYou did still miss his green eyes that would look at you like you were his entire world. But above all, you wanted Thoma to be happy, wherever he was, whoever he was with.

ㅤYour story with each other was destined to tragedy. And one that would forever remain a cherished chapter in your favorite book.

ㅤThe only thing you regretted the most, was not being able to tell him how much you had loved him too.

ㅤAnd maybe someday you both would meet again, in some corner of the world. But for now, all you both had were dreams and what-ifs. For all the eternity and the freedom the gods had wished upon their nations.

💙 I'm finally done help. Loved to write Thoma's part and that was the first time ever writing something for him, my baby. I pity him for being the only one with an angsty ending in this small series lmao.

ㅤ ⏤ ty for reading 💗

[jumexju]

REQ !! : Hello!! Could I request L, Near and Mello (separately) x reader who can speak Polish? :] Imagine like a scenario where reader swears when annoyed or calls them pet names in that language! Ty 🫶

CATALOGUE

Pairing(s) !! : L, Near, Mello / Reader (Seperate)

CW !! : profanity, apart from that, none !

Summary !! : How they'd be with a reader who speaks polish.

Notes !! : Sorry they're short, i'm not really familiar with the polish language, hopefully you still enjoyed, anon !

✦ MASTERLIST

LAWLIET L !! :

He’s fluent in like 6 languages, he’d probably end up either asking you if you would be willing to teach it to him or he’ll learn it himself

He’d probably like communicating with you in polish when the task force is around just so they don’t know what the both of you are conversing about 

If you would code-switch to polish whenever you cuss, he’d probably find it a little humorous but I don’t think he’d admit that openly

If you were to call him pet names though? He probably feels cherished. 

It’s like something only the two of you share, and he secretly loves the fact that no one else really knows what the two of you are saying half of the time. 

NEAR !! :

I’m going to assume that Near also is multilingual 

So based on that, I believe Near would secretly learn polish on his own after hearing you swear or call him a pet name in that language

He probably would be the type to blush a little once he finds out that you’ve been calling him polish pet names that whole time

Near, despite seeming like a know-it-all sometimes, he does have his soft moments. 

He also calls u pet names in polish but in private, away from his co-workers

And because he’s a menace too, he’d smirk to himself whenever he hears you swear in polish

MELLO !! :

“How do you say f#%@ in polish?” 

Jokes aside, I wouldn’t put it past him. He definitely asks you how to cuss in polish 

If you actually tell him how then he’ll probably use this newfound knowledge when the mafia pisses him off

He definitely would ask you if you could teach him polish because he enjoys the clueless look in the mafia members’ faces when they realize the both of you are speaking in a language foreign to them

Like L, he likes having something that's only for the two of you

He def blushes like an idiot whenever you call him pet names 

He thinks its cute when you get flustered at him doing the same 

He’s def teaching matt swear words btw 

[artdcnaldson]

patrick meets you, an international student, while visiting art at stanford. he overhears you speaking to a friend in another language and assumes you’d have a hard time speaking english. so he asks art to find a student who’s fluent in both languages to interpret for him at a party.

art knows you, you’re in his psych 101 class. you can speak perfect english. he tries to tell patrick he doesn’t need an interpreter, but patrick (being patrick) just rushes in head first. you’re amused by it, so you play along.

fast forward to a week later, after spending some time together, he somehow managed to score a date with you. it’s hilarious and horrifying, because to patrick your supposed language barrier also equates to a lack of shame. so he speaks his mind about you to you any time he’s around.

how beautiful he thinks you are. some of the… not so PG things he wants to do to you. if he stumbles or trips or makes a fool of himself, he talks about how he’s an idiot and absolutely blowing it.

during your date, patrick constantly flips through a dictionary of your language and attempts to communicate with you. from what art has told you, he doesn’t often make this much of an effort. despite his butchering of the pronunciations and lack of coherent sentence structure, it’s actually very endearing.

you decide to finally give him a break at the end of the night. he tries to say that he’d love to see you again, but fumbles over one of the words, cursing under his breath. you smile and say, in english, that you’d love to.

patrick’s head sags, a blush creeping up his cheek. he smirks and shakes his head in a good-natured manner.

“you could understand me this whole time?”

“yep.”

“fuck.”

Awwww this is so cute 🥺🥺🥺🥺

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 43

PREV

FF is a pretty good student. Solid Bs in his Gen-eds and As in regard to his major. With one C+ that he’s still working on with Captain Neil but it’s higher than the D+ that he had been pulling before Captain Neil had started to tutor him and he really just needs to pass the one gen-ed required math class.

There was many a deep breathing exercise before he made an appointment with his educational advisor for the next semester back in October but it hadn’t been that bad even though she was the one that had asked if he knew anyone good at math since it obviously was not a strong suit of his. So he dragged his grade up from a D+ to a C+ and he was pretty proud of that.

FF has a preferred spot in each and every one of his classrooms. In his Gen-Ed courses he sits in spots that the Professors don’t even notice and where there is almost always a gap between him and the next person. He arrives perfectly almost late every single day for every single class he can to achieve this feat.

For his Major classes he sits near the front with the few Foreign Language major friends that he has.

FF likes to be prepared. Studying was a nice way to prepare for the future. If he’s already read the entire textbook front to back and taken notes then a pop quiz can’t catch him off guard. He double, triple, and quadruple checks homework. He could probably recite the syllabus for any of his classes off the top of his head. He has read it so much to make sure he’s gotten everything and is on track.

FF kind of likes finals week.

For once, for one week, everyone is as anxious as him.

He sits next to Nicky patting his back as his friend sobs into a pillow. “I’m not going to graduate and it’s going to delay seeing Erik by an entire year!” Nicky yells as he brings his face out of the pillow.

“Nicky, you only got one flashcard wrong how about you shut the fuck up!” Aaron yells from his desk where he seems to have spontaneously developed ambidextrousness as he writes notes with both hands. “Fuck I am NEVER fitting all of this one one index card.” Aaron slams his face into the table.

“I don’t even need this degree.” Matt says looking down at a textbook that he has not turned a page on for the last hour. The fact that Matt had also not even opened that textbook before now was a bit of a cause for concern. “I’ve already got offers for professional teams. I can just play Exy. I do not need to pass a workplace psychology course.” Matt says.

“You think Dan wants an idiot?!” Nicky demands not wanting to go down alone.

“She thinks it’s cute that I’m stupid!” Matt exclaims.

“No she doesn’t!” Aaron points at him, “She said and I quote ‘I love it when you use that big ol sexy brain of yours.’ the last time you had her on speaker phone!” he uses a slightly more…effeminate voice when he impersonates Dan but FF had spoken with Dan and to his memory she did not sound like that.

“Fuck you’re right she deserves an all rounder!” Matt cries, head in his hands.

“Why do I even have to TAKE this Gen-Ed about history?” Nicky demands now holding onto FF as if he were a teddy bear.

“So that we’re well-rounded individuals with a wider perspective on-”

“Smithy, my sweet child, I was not looking for an answer.” he feels Nicky’s hand come up to his hair and maybe he’s being treated more like a favored pet?

“You’re having trouble with a Gen-Ed?!” Aaron asks turning around in his seat, “That’s embarrassing.” he turns his nose up.

“I’m having trouble with something that is going to be useless in my adult life.” Nicky says as if he were not currently an adult. “You are having issues with a class that will have huge ramifications on your future if you don’t manage to learn it!” Nicky points out.

“Eat my shorts Nicky.” Aaron hisses.

“Maybe I could study if you would wash your shorts Aaron. I can smell your laundry pile from over here!” Matt spits.

The fight devolved from there and FF slipped out of the dorm as Nicky was holding a chair over his head to seemingly throw at Matt for his ‘unreasonable number of sticky notes messing up the flow of Nicky’s studying’.

He heard a crash.

“It’s probably fine.” he says to himself and he has his index cards with the speech he has to give for and he really should go over to talk with Captain Neil.

He walks to Captain Neil, Andrew, and Kevin’s door and- “There faster-!”

FF walks away from Captain Neil, Andrew, and Kevin’s door, remembering only in this moment that Kevin had declared that he would be “Living in the library until this paper is done or I am.” to the team at the last practice of the year.

Captain Neil and Andrew were never the type to waste an empty dorm room.

He misses Pepto Bismol as he hears a particularly dirty line of Russian coming from his Captain’s dorm room.

***

Eventually Finals week is done and dusted with only 4-5 more blow-ups in his dorm room that result in Nicky, Aaron, and Matt stopping their fight to see if they accidentally had knocked him out with all of the thrown debris (only happened once when Aaron threw a textbook that Nicky ducked but he didn’t.)

FF came out of his final…final feeling pretty good all around. He had managed to get some extra tutoring time with Captain Neil after Kevin managed to finish his history paper a little early. Despite all of their fears and complaints Aaron, Nicky, and Matt all did manage to pass all of their finals and their classes.

The Tower was closing tomorrow for the rest of the year and despite checking almost every day with Nicky he still was invited to go to New York City with most of the team to stay at Allison’s house.

“Smithy, did you pack a swimsuit?” Nicky asks.

“Nicky, we’re going to New York for Christmas break. Do you think we’re going to swim?” Aaron asks incredulously.

“Two words, my fetus of a cousin: Hot. Tub.” Nicky holds his hand up and putting one finger up and then another. “Is hot tub two words?” Matt asks as he reaches for his own swim trunks.

“Yes Matt hot tub is two words.” FF says nodding.

“Thank you Smithster.” Matt says.

“I can’t believe you don’t know that hot tub is two words.” Aaron says with a huff.

“I can’t believe that you don’t know how to not be an asshole even after you started getting regular sex with Katelyn.” Matt returns, “Look at how not a thing that was when Smithster answered it.” he gestures to FF.

“You cannot compare Smithy to Aaron. Apples and Tomatoes.” Nicky dismisses.

“Whatever, so Allison got a hot tub at her place?” Aaron moves past the conversation.

“Aaron you just made fun of Matt for asking stupid questions.” Nicky says with a hand on his cheek.

“I fucking hate being part of your family.” Aaron says without any real heat.

“Yeah sure.” Nicky says, rolling his eyes and smiling as he saw Aaron packing swim trunks that FF knew he had bought for his cousin.

“Okay, I’ve got the packing list that Allison sent. Do we wanna run through it so that we’re all properly packed?” Matt says holding up his phone.

“Yeah, let’s run through it.” Nicky says with a sigh.

They went through Allison’s provided list twice and then zipped up their suitcases. Smith was going to be driving to the airport with Matt. Neil and Andrew were going to be driving the Maserati up alone while the rest of them were going to be flying up to New York City.

Now onto something that filled FF with far more dread than simply passing tests that determined whether or not he continued to get a free ride in college.

Meeting new people.

NEXT >>

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

[ratkingsocks]

Misc. Heart Pirates Head Canons

So, when I'm bored out of my brain at work I've been thinking about my silly little beloveds the Heart Pirates! So here are some thoughts I've had about them and the crew structure! Crew Structure

Not a traditional first mate or incredibly strict hierarchy. I figure Law's authority issues extend to how he runs his crew!

There's four "departments" basically where one of the core-four preside over.

Bepo is in charge of all the helm stuff: navigation, steering, general operations (maintenance of equipment, engineering)

Penguin is in charge of personnel: finances, crew schedules, supplies (clothes, food, yatta yatta)

Shachi is on weapons: armory & procurement of, training the crew, and any like recon they do is planned by him

Law handles all the medical stuff: yearly exams, extensive charts/notes on the crew, any on-going treatments, and the supplies for this specifically goes through him

As captain, Law does oversee/supervise the others if he feels it relevant but after like 13 years he's pretty confident his favorite idiots can handle themselves!

The tang runs on two shifts so someone is always around to keep the sub running in case of emergencies, as such there's often multiple crew members capable of a job (ex chef, helmsman, engineering, nurses)

All the crew knows how to handle alarms, any gauge or sonar readouts, and just generally keep everyone from dying

Most of the crew knows basic triage and first aid

Any Big Decisions (TM) are normally talked over. The crew has a lot of say in most scenarios... One of the few times this was not the case was Law ordering them to Zou when he went to Punk Hazard.

It was an intentional choice on Law & the crew's part that none of them were spotted on jobs and don't have bounties. A lot of the crew's work, especially early on in Law's plotting against Doffy, was gathering information and other covert work. Them being well known or recognizable would've made it impossible for this to get done... It also would've made hiding from Doffy that much harder.

The crew splits proceeds evenly! 50% goes to the Tang's upkeep and supplies, 50% is split equally between everyone else.

Named Crew Jobs

Law- Captain, Doctor

Penguin- Quartermaster

Shachi- Armsmaster

Bepo- Navigator

Jean Bart- Helmsman

Ikkaku- Head Engineer

Uni- Head Nurse

Clion Chef

Hakugan- Helmsman

The unnamed crew I do plan to flesh out eventually, but I haven't made a whole lot of headway in that direction yet... Some day I shall!

Silly HCs

Other than Bepo, everyone is older than Law

Penguin likes to sing

He also has collected rocks & shells from every island they've stopped at to make a living map of their travels.

I personally like to think of Shachi & Peng as some sort of fishman-human hybrid or perhaps a few generations removed from a fishman ancestor? Not super sure on how it works exactly, but I think they both look a lil odd and that's why they hide their eyes and such with hats.

Ikkaku handles Law 2nd best only to the Core 4. She knows when he needs space and when he needs to be pushed pretty well, and so they're pretty close.

Uni loves to sew; it's how he relaxes and passes time while they're underwater for long stretches of time. He is also the person who customizes most of Law's clothes with their jolly roger

Law did said customization before they recruited Uni and still helps, but Uni shoves him off often and says this is his therapy time alone

Clione takes to new members the best

He's also a great fighter and definitely yeeted Shachi into a wall one day; Shachi was delighted with this

He can drink most of the crew under the table

Hakugan is enby! And uses they/them pronouns

They also communicate with sign language, so the entire crew is relatively fluent

Hakugan is never lost; they have a 6th sense for where north is at all times

Much like their namesake, Hakugan is a volatile creature prone to violence

Shachi likes to keep up with psychology journals in his free time, so sometimes he & Law will have a little "medical journal book club" to hang out

Bepo is more an astronomy & weather guy... there was, however, a tragic mix-up with the news coo one time that resulted in Bepo getting an astrology magazine.

He likes to torment Law by teasing him with a well placed "That's so very libra of you, captain."

Law actually likes his coffee absurdly, disgustingly sweet

Penguin, however, takes his coffee black

Shachi & Bepo are 2 of 3 members of the Hearts without a caffeine addiction. Hakugan is the third

Penguin has given up trying to get Law on a schedule... It has never worked in their 13 years sailing together

Law had to implement a "no gambling on the tang" rule shortly after Hakugan joined; They were absolutely taking everyone else's money

Law does, however, actively encourage fleecing marines & rival pirate crews

The crew has picked up some Mink social behaviors! As such they're very physically affectionate... Yes, even Law. Though he tends to contain his affection to when they're in private or on the Polar Tang

It's super common to see the crew swap undershirts, jewelry, or other accessories

Bepo has a collection of his crewmates' shirts! Uni made it into a quilt for him since he can't exactly wear them properly

Everyone else has a "Bepo shirt"

Ikkaku tends to forget she's wearing hers while working on the Tang or to sleep then walks about. Whenever Bepo sees this he gets all flustered & teary-eyed

Law, similarly, wears his to sleep in regularly. He would rather be caught dead than wearing though. That's way too mushy for him.... but if there are days where he's still wearing it when Bepo comes to check on him in the morning, well, nobody has to know but them right?

Shachi & Penguin one time wore their Bepo shirts and attempted to force Bepo into their shirts which... obviously did not fit. Undetered they stitched the two together to the ultimate-bros-shirt. Bepo loves this shirt & wears it regularly.

Shachi & Penguin remake this shirt whenever the old one starts wearing down or falling apart every few years

(I took this one from a fic cuz I thought it was just so good) Between more junior members of the crew, it's a running gag that Law, Shachi, & Penguin are more "lesser mink" than "human" after 13 years with Bepo.

Law finds this absolutely hysterical, Bepo says they're all lesser minks

Law is, in fact, capable of a variety of animal noises such as growling, hissing, or purring. He normally makes this noises on accident when startled or particularly relaxed. He did not intentionally learn to make these noises. He was just an incredibly weird child and like many weird children before and after him, mimicked animals

Shachi & Penguin may or may not make fun of him for this

They may or may not have started the rumor that one of Law's parents was a mink; a rumor that Law has unintentionally perpetuated with his general wet cat behavior

Penguin's family were whalers! He uses a harpoon & is a fantastic fisher as a result

The above makes him Clione's favorite

Penguin often threatens Shachi with the harpoon so he may join his bretheren. Shachi shrieks back that orcas are not whales but dolphins. This is a near weekly song & dance.

Each of the "core four" have a way to show they accept a newbie into the crew!

Shachi carves a little wooden animal

Penguin embroiders their name inside their boiler suits

Bepo trades clothes with them

Law procures a custom mug decorated to their taste

Law normally gives his first, actually. Firstly, if he invited you to his crew he already likes you well enough. Two, he knows he can be an unapproachable dick and sees it as a bit of a peace offering. Three, to show the rest of the crew this new person is approved!

Shachi & Penguin gives theirs whenever they feel the new member has "earned" it. Normally 2nd/3rd in whatever order they deem.

Bepo basically always gives his last. He's a very anxious lil guy and doesn't want to disturb or weird anyone out.

Jean Bart is, ironically, the only crew member to not have concussed himself on the doorways in the Tang

Law had a few problem years after his sudden growth spurt, but it hasn't been a problem since he got used to being taller

After reuniting on Zou there was a crew wide cuddle puddle

Law is surprisingly tactile so long as it's on his terms. A head pat there, brushing his hands against a cheek or shoulder there... That kind of thing

This is generally the best indicator of how much he actually likes you

Law often stims using Bepo's fur or paws. Bepo loves this very much

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 12/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE

TEN ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

                It’s another Christmas with the Gallo family and his Italian is fluent. He can even understand the little kids who can barely talk. The teenagers all want to practice their English with him, which he’s happy to do. He’s helped enough with some of their homework now to really appreciate that English is his first language and he never had to learn all the exceptions to all the rules. He’s stumped so often when they ask him to try and explain obscure things.

                Christmas is a special time, the restaurant is closed and he helps make the traditional biscuits and food, Leandro and Silvia relaxing and drinking and family come to stay and eat together for what seems like endless days of feasting. There are so many people he can’t keep track of who is related to who. There are Leandro’s siblings, his nieces and nephews. His parents, his parents’ siblings and then their kids.

                Then there are Silvia’s parents and fortunately Vi takes pity on him, hooking her arm through his and telling him to just call everyone cousin, or aunt and uncle if they’re old enough to be his parents. It does make it easier, and everyone accepts his continued presence now after a few years, at least no longer the strange American who doesn’t understand them. He does notice, he thinks for the first time, that Leandro and Silvia don’t have any children and he wonders if he can ask. He wants to know but… He sidles up to Vi, she might know.

                “Leandro and Silvia never had kids?”

                She looks between Bradley and over to Silvia who is holding one of the toddlers on her hips, letting them play with the large chunky beads of her necklace.

                “Nope. They couldn’t. Why do you think everyone is happy to have you around?”

                “That sucks. They’d make great parents.”

                “Who says they aren’t, hmm?” Vi asks, and she gives him a look like he’s an idiot and pats his face.

                Well then.

…            …            …

                He’s hot and sweaty, having looked at the tractor and also done some of the truck maintenance. It’s not due to be done until next month, but he won’t be here than and he likes to try and be useful. They have a schedule for things and getting ahead doesn’t hurt, especially when there is a spare pair of hands to help out. He takes the steps up the porch and can hear laughter coming from inside and god, that might not necessarily be a good thing. He’d worried, very briefly, about introducing them and then deserting Leo.

                But it’s not like they’re actually dating, he wouldn’t desert a guy who was actually interested in dating him with his sisters. It’s exactly why they’ve never met anyone, because no one has ever really expressed interest in having anything more with him other than just hooking up. His lifestyle doesn’t exactly lend itself to long-term committed relationships with his deployments pretty much imploding everything before they even start. A little alarmingly these two weeks with Leo might constitute his longest relationship, and it’s only a prolonged hookup.

                He kicks off his boots and hangs up his hat, can hear both Leo and Maria more clearly and they’re talking food and of course he can smell the same smell from the last couple of days. Some lunches and most dinners, same fucking dish. Even sauce can’t save it. He’s desperate for something different. He walks into the kitchen and it’s a little after four, the house nice and cool after the heat of the sun outside. Both Leo and Maria are sitting there with wine glasses and have turned to look at him.

                “Hey…” Leo says, and Jake’s eyebrows raise higher and higher in amusement as Leo blatantly runs his eyes over Jake from his sock clad feet up his legs, over his torso, fixating on what Jake can only assume are his lips. Apparently Leo is a bit of a horny drunk. Maybe.

                “Hi there…Are you getting day drunk with my sister?”

                “We are getting day drunk together! His sauce needed a little bit of sweetness and a touch of acid, so now we’re emptying the bottle!”

                Jake eyes the half-filled bottle and then looks toward the other bench where he spies another empty bottle. He steps closer so he can press a kiss to Leo’s forehead, mainly because he looks like a wobbly kitten wanting to butt heads and Jake’s always been unable to resist cute animals. Then he spies an open recipe book, and he reaches to grab it, about to accuse Leo of cheating and then he sees the photo on the front. The name Bradley Bradshaw embossed in gold, it looks super fancy, and now it makes sense that Maria had recognized him, she’d seen him on the front of one of her recipe books.

                “You wrote a recipe book huh?”

                Leo’s eyes crinkle and he laughs, leaning into Jake’s body and Jake would swear he’s nuzzling him.

                “Yeah. Told you I wouldn’t be much of a chef if I used someone else’s…”

                “Yeah okay, fair point. Nice picture…” Jake says, because it is, Leo all dressed in chef whites and looking serious as he holds a knife over a bunch of peppers like he’s about to behead them. It’s clearly posed but he still looks hot.

                “I was just signing it for Maria…”

                “Was that before or after the first bottle of wine?” Jake asks, and he’s feeling a little… something looking at Leo so comfortable and happy. He looks good. Happy and relaxed and Jake feels the same and it’s… nice, to have someone experiencing a similar thing.

                “Oh, I signed it as soon as I saw it.”

                “Aw, getting all excited about someone having your cookbook huh?” Jake asks and Maria makes a snorting choking sound but uses a hand to wave his concern away. Leo is looking at him like he never wants to stop and Jake wants to look right back. “You ready to hit the road?”

                “Is that what we’re calling it these days?” Maria asks, looking between them and Jake gives her the finger.

                “You need anything?” Jake asks, because there’s no way he’ll leave her needing to do anything, not while she’s this drunk.

                “Nope. Have food… wouldn’t mind the company to eat but I’ll ring Olivia… oh my god. Can you come for dinner Friday night?”

                “What? Why?” Jake asks, suspicious.

                “I wasn’t asking you! Bradley. Can you, will you, come for dinner?”

                “Yeah, I’d love to. What can I bring?”

                “Oh my god. Oh my god. Your flourless chocolate cake. Could you make that?”

                “Wait. Why are you inviting him for dinner?” Jake asks, because it’s two days away and –

                “Don’t you think everyone else would like to meet him?”

                Jake tries to convey shut up shut up shut up with both his brain and eyes, but Maria is looking a little manic and Leo doesn’t seem worried at all but also Leo has likely drunk a bottle of wine. Because no, he doesn’t see why everyone needs to suddenly meet the guy he’s fucking.

                “I don’t know, why do they need to meet him?”

                “We always like meeting your friends Jake. You never bring anyone home…”

                “Actually, I’ve got a meeting on Friday…” Leo says, and Jake looks at him, and he’s suddenly looking a lot more sober, not as soft and shit, he wonders if Maria inviting him to meet the entire family has made him uncomfortable. Uncomfortable enough to be making up excuses and meetings. “The guy from the food truck. Rickard. He’s going to show me how he makes his salsa verde.”

                “Oh.” Not made up then. He’s still mourning horny-drunk Leo though.

                “You’re seeing Rickard on Friday?” Maria asks.

                “You know him?”

                “Everyone knows everyone around here. I’ve got a delivery planned for him tomorrow, if Jake has done his job properly.” Jake rolls his eyes. Of course he fucking has. He might be years out from living and working the farm, but he hasn’t forgotten how to harvest or direct the machines or other workers.

                “He gets his ingredients from you?”

                “Well, we’re certainly not going to get through that many jalapeños! We provide to several places.”

                They’re throwing back the last of the wine in their glasses and Jake feels bad at unintentionally calling a halt to their session, because they’ve obviously enjoyed each other’s company. But he doesn’t know how to make things back to the way they were, when they were laughing and Leo was looking at him with dark eyes filled with promise. Ah well, too late now.

                “Come on, lucky I don’t drink on the job and can drive us back.”

                Maria trails after them, thumbs flying over her phone and he fully expects that his sister’s group chat is lighting up. He should be glad he’s not part of it, but he does wonder what she’s saying. His own phone vibrates in his pocket and oh, maybe she’s got some choice words to say to him then and he’s got it all wrong. He keeps quiet while Leo thanks Maria for her help, and she replies and tells him anytime and it sounds like she genuinely means it, which makes him feel worse about ruining the dinner invite, except Maria is reiterating the dinner invite, and apparently her and Leo have exchanged numbers. What the fuck. Jake can apparently stay away if he doesn’t want to come. Leo says he’ll think about it, she rolls her eyes, mutters oblivious, seriously and that for some reason makes Leo crack a smile. He really wants to check his phone but holds off, waves goodbye to Maria and walks with Leo to the truck. Maria is standing there waiting for them to drive off so she can wave, but Jake shoos her away and she throws her hands up but goes back inside the house.

                “You okay?”

                “Yeah. Fine. Why?”

                “Just seem a little quiet,” Jake observes, and he could start the engine, fill the silence with something but he wants to… fix this.

                “Yeah. Sorry. I just… I didn’t mean to overstep. Kind of muscle in on your family time…”

                “What are you talking about?”

                “Hanging out with Maria, getting invited to dinner…”

                Jake turns and look at Leo, confused and a little bewildered.

                “Leo. You… shit. You aren’t stepping on toes. I thought you and my sister would get on, and I was right. And I made you hang out with my sister, and my sister invited you to dinner. I just… I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or, I don’t know, obligated, to meet my family because we’re” he waves his hands between them “…hooking up.”

                “What if it was more than hooking up?”

                “What?”

                “I know it’s only been a few days. Shit. It has only been a few days, but…” he sucks in a breath. “I really like you.”

                Jake stares at him, because this is madness. Leo lives in New York, Jake lives wherever the US Navy sends him and comes home to Thompsonville when he can.

                “So, what? You think we can date each other for the next ten days?”

                “I think that would be a good start…”

                “And when you go home, and I’m deployed, how exactly do you see a… relationship working between us?”

                “Like we’d savor every second we have together, and use technology to stay in touch and… at least try.”

                Jake blinks and shakes his head.

                “That’s insane…”

                “Maybe. But… Look. I grew up a Navy brat. I know how deployments work and how hard they can be on relationships. Trust me. My job isn’t easy either. I work fucking odd hours, travel a lot and get grumpy even more often. You’ve got the vacation version of me, not the stressed-out workaholic version…”

                Jake raises an eyebrow, because he cannot imagine Leo getting stressed out, or even grumpy. His little disgruntled expression when something isn’t tasting quite right is cute, not grumpy, but he trusts that Leo knows what he’s talking about.

                “You’re serious…”

                “Yeah. And don’t think I don’t know how crazy and potentially stupid this could all be… but I kind of feel like I’ve got nothing to lose, right?”

                “And everything to gain,” Jake says, because it’s a common turn of phrase but as soon as it slips out Leo is shifting and reaching over the gear stick to kiss him.

                “Exactly.”

THIRTEEN

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A Fresh Start [16]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: medical trauma, mild gore (I’m not super descriptive), mentions of blood, angst, fluff, domestic bliss, brief male masturbation, tons of self doubt, idiots in love

Word Count: 10k+

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night,  you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a  far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be  exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you  fall more  and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant  for everyone.

Ch. #16: I DON’T WANT IT TO BE A SIN

a/n: if you thought the sneak peek i gave you was peak domestic bliss y’all ain’t gonna know what hit you right out the gate👀

“i had never met a soul

who could speak my language.

until there was you.

you, are fluent in me.”

-lonely.penguin

When you reached the front door of the house, it occurred to you that just walking in could be a problem. With all the drama going on today, the last thing you needed was adding ‘accidentally breaking Din’s creed’ to the list. You poked your head in and called out, “Hey, I’m home!”

“We’re in the kitchen!” Din called out. His voice didn’t sound modulated, but the words made it seem like he’d be ready for you by the time you arrived. You closed the door behind you and seconds later you heard Grogu’s voice hollering for you.

“Ma, ma, ma, ma!” He chanted while turning the corner and rushing toward you. Seeing his cheery demeanor as he waddled to you, full of life and energy, made you forget every single worry that was clouding your mind.

“Grogu!” You gasped with a grin. Quickly, you knelt down in time for him to leap into your arms and you cradled him to your chest, peppering kisses along the top of his head, “Hi, baby. I was so worried about you.” 

“Missed ma.” Grogu buried his face into the crook of your neck and tears sprung to your eyes. Maker, you were pathetically emotional today. When you looked up from the boy hugging you, you saw Din leaning against the wall with his helmet on. His arms were crossed over his broad chest. His black t-shirt was form fitting and you couldn’t help but admire the skin available for you to stare at. Knowing he didn’t reveal himself in this state to anyone else made your face flush with warmth. Grogu un-buried his face from your neck to set his hands on your cheeks⏤ dragging your attention back to him. “Epar.”

You ran through the dictionary of Mando’a words you knew until you found the familiar word. “Eat? Did buir make food?”

“Buir tried.” Din grunted. “But someone is being picky.”

Grogu blew a raspberry at his father and both you and Din chuckled in response. Picky or not, having Grogu awake and playing was such a relief. Din pushed off the wall and drifted closer. As he approached, you felt your breath catch in your throat. If Din noticed he didn’t comment. Instead, he caressed the side of your arm with the back of his fingers before letting his hand trail down until it rested on your lower back. With this new position, Grogu was sandwiched between the two of you.

“Hi.” You mumbled softly.

“Hi.” Din echoed back, but his voice was tinged in amusement. “How was Nima?”

You nodded. “Good. She’s good. How⏤ Um, did you⏤ I was wondering⏤”

“Are you hungry?” Din asked simply as you tried and failed to squeeze out a sentence about your future. “I made three different meals because Grogu asked for them then changed his mind after a bite. So you have options.”

You gave him a small nod and Din led you toward the kitchen keeping his hand on your back. On the kitchen counter, as he said, were three small portions of different dishes. Each with a Grogu sized bite taken out of it. You ticked Grogu in the side. “What do you wanna eat, baby?”

“It’s a trap. Don’t believe anything the little womp rat says.” Din hummed.

“You’re not a little womp rat. You’re a little angel, aren’t you?” Grogu giggled at your cooing and his laughter increased at the sound of his father’s scoff of disbelief. You opened the fridge with Grogu in your arms and let him peer in. Regardless of what he asked for, you were going to make him something light. The last thing you wanted to do was upset his stomach. But considering you still wanted to give him one more dose of antibiotics, he definitely needed to eat something. Grogu began to point at the fruit drawer and you chuckled. “Okay, baby. How about you go hang out with buir while mama makes lunch?”

“Come here, ad’ika.” Din held his arms out to take Grogu from you. 

It didn’t take you long to prep the snack for him. You had taken the plain yogurt in the fridge and used the blender to mix the fruit and yogurt together. His favorite fruit was a bit acidic so you wanted to make it less so with the yogurt. When it was made up, you brought the bowl over to Din and Grogu and scooped a bit on a spoon. He took the first spoonful then chirped for another.

Din snorted with a shake of his head. “You’re really becoming a mama’s boy, you know that?”

Grogu ignored him and continued to take any spoonful you offered him. You shot Din a sheepish smile, “Sorry. I promise I’m not trying to steal him away.”

“Don’t be.” Din replied. He used the hand not holding Grogu to hold the boy’s hand. “I like to see it. I’m happy he has a mama to be a mama’s boy for.” Your heart skipped a beat in your chest⏤ something you thought only to be a figure of speech. “I can finish feeding him if you want to eat.”

You nervously shook your head. “Can we⏤ Can we talk before we eat?”

“Of course. Say what you need to say, ner kar’ta.”

“Actually, I was hoping you could say something.” You admitted. Grogu, plenty happy with his food and being surrounded by those who loved him, just lightly bounced in Din’s arms as you fed him. You shrugged. “I assume… Did you read my file?”

“I did.”

“And?”

You waited nervously as Din remained silent. As comfortable as it had been seconds before, you didn’t want to fall into a lull of false security. You wanted Din to share his opinion so you could figure out your standing in his life. Finally, after feeding Grogu five more spoonfuls, Din spoke.

“What is a fat embolism?”

The spoon in your hand shook as your hand trembled and you were forced to set it down into the bowl. Grogu whined at the motion. It took you a moment before your hand felt steady enough to resume feeding the child. What a question. A lawyer had asked you the exact same thing while in court. It had been difficult to answer then as well and not because of a lack of knowledge. 

“It’s when a globule of fat blocks blood flow.” You murmured. “You can see it after trauma. Fat seeps out of a bone fracture, gets into the bloodstream, and it…” You took in a slow breath. “It’s not always fatal. You just have to catch it early, and we⏤ I didn’t.”

Din nodded. “That’s what the file said. That Soran’s cause of death was cardiopulmonary arrest due to a pulmonary fat embolism.”

“I thought we were in the clear.” You said and your voice came out in a whimper. “I thought she was okay. She was stable. Soran was stable.” There was that word again. Stable. It hadn’t met anything that day. Maybe that’s why you had used it so much last night and this morning. If you said it enough it would be true. You should’ve said it more that day. “She was stable and then she wasn’t.”

Finished with the bowl of yogurt and pureed fruit, Grogu whined to be let down and when Din followed the child’s instruction Grogu waddled away. Both of you watched him heard toward the hall before Din’s focus on you pulled you back into the moment. He reached out and let just the tip of his fingers drag down your arm⏤ leaving a trail of fire against your skin. Din didn’t stop until his hand slipped into yours, fingers tangling together. 

There was a sense of security that came with the weight of his hand in yours. Din’s thumb traced circles where it rested. “What did you do?”

“What?”

“Can you walk me through it? I don’t know a lot about medicine.” Din lifted his hand, carrying yours with it, and rested it against his chest. The back of your palm pressed against his heart. You could feel it’s steady beat. “Not unless it’s bacta or cautery, that is.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the comment, but it was short lived. You gave a small shrug. “She crashed. Soran couldn’t breathe. There was no other reason for it so I knew it had to be a clot. I had hoped it was a blood clot. I could fix that.” You pressed your lips together. Eyes focusing on the edge of his helmet⏤ unable to meet the eyes you couldn’t even see. “Started a blood thinner to break apart the clot, but it didn’t help. That’s when I knew… the blockage wasn’t a blood clot. It was a fat globule.”

“What are you supposed to do for that?”

“There’s nothing you can do. Not at that point.” You answered. “We don’t have a medicine to break up a fat embolism quickly. The moment it got lodged in her lungs like that…”

Din nodded. “How do you prevent that from happening after a trauma? Is there a medicine for that?”

“Well, no, you⏤ Din, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to understand.” He replied. “The court transcripts had a few different testimonies. They all had a common agreement. Every doctor interviewed said Soran was dead the moment that building landed on her.”

You shook your head and tried to pull your hand away, but Din’s grip tightened. He wouldn’t let you go. “She was my best friend. I knew her since we were kids. We grew up together⏤ we were neighbors. I shouldn’t have been her doctor.”

“You were the only one available at the time. You tried to find someone, but there was no one else.” Din replied. “If you hadn’t jumped in, then she would’ve died even sooner.” He leaned forward. “The starship collision caused the building she worked in to collapse. Soran got trapped in the rubble. A pillar fractured her femur and shattered her pelvis.” The way he spoke was as if he had memorized the transcript itself. “Soran was trapped for eight hours before she was un-buried and brought to your ED. A pulmonary fat embolism, something you said that can’t be prevented or treated, can form six hours after even a single fracture.”

Your bottom lip quivered and you bit down on it in a poor attempt to control your emotions. These were all facts you knew. Logically, you understood everything, but there was a part of you that could not shake the guilt that planted roots in your heart. The entire trial you had sat in a haze. You barely remembered the specifics of those days. In fact, only one memory stuck with you⏤ the hatred and rage in Kurt’s eyes as he stared at you from the court gallery. 

“There’s nothing you can say that I haven’t heard before, Din.” You mumbled.

“I know. I’m sure.” Din nodded once. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to say it.” He rested his forehead against yours. “Ner kar’ta, you did not kill your best friend.” The unshed tears collecting in your eyes spilled over. “Soran did not die by your hands. You were just the last hands to care for her⏤ the last hands to show her love.”

A shaky sob spilled from your lips and Din’s other hand came to rest on the back of your neck. He pulled you into his chest and rested his chin on top of your head. You had heard so many people tell you it wasn’t your fault. Each time was a different variation of the same words. But, nobody had said it quite like Din. Nobody painted your last actions with her in a loving manner. You cried into his chest and Din murmured reassurances in Mando’a⏤ the rumbling of his voice just as much a comfort as the beating of his heart. 

A force tugging at the pants around your ankle made you pull back. Grogu stood by your feet, holding his stuffed frog, and stared up at you with a tilt to his head and concern in his eyes. You let out a shaky, pathetic laugh and let go of Din to scoop the child up. When Grogu was nestled into your chest, Din pulled you back into his. There was a lot of baggage to wade through, and you knew one heartfelt conversation wasn’t going to cure everything. However, in Din’s arms you found peace.

Din Djarin was living in domestic bliss. That was the only way to describe his current state. Nearly two weeks had passed since Grogu was sick and the pirates attacked. Since then, Grogu had been picture perfect in terms of health and the busiest he had been, work wise, was when two pilots got in a fist fight over ship parking in the hangar. At home, things were nearly perfect. A wall had been broken after the discussion about Soran, you seemed more open and free. The job Karga had offered you was put out of mind it seemed, and Din had made it very clear to the High Magistrate that if he bothered you about becoming Nevarro’s physician he’d beat the kriffing hell out of him. 

The only thing that kept his situation from becoming fully perfect was the fact that Din had never been more sexually frustrated in his entire life. He had never felt closer to you emotionally, but physically your relationship hadn’t progressed beyond what happened the morning Karga interrupted the two of you. Din took advantage of the little moments available to him. A caress on your arm as he was passing you in the hall, leaning into your side when the two of you shared a couch playing with Grogu, setting his hands on your hips to peer over your shoulder while you made food. He treasured every moment because it was all he had. Never mind the fact that if he stared at you for too long the urge to rip your clothes off and pick up where left off became overwhelming.

But Din didn’t want to push. Karga bringing up your past had obviously been traumatic, and the absolute last thing he wanted was to pressure you into something you weren’t sure of because you were emotional. In the bathroom with your lips pressed against his every scar you seemed more than eager to reciprocate his desires, but since then he had been the only one to initiate touch. You never turned him down and when his hands brushed against you it brought a smile to your face, but that was all. You didn’t make the effort to touch him first and that was beginning to make Din nervous.

Had he misread your initial interest? Or had things just changed?

Regardless of the reasoning, it left Din beating his frustrations out in the shower⏤ one hand wrapped around his cock in a tight fist pathetically trying to pretend like your hands were on him once more. He felt shame with his actions. You were innocently padding around the house chasing after his son while trying to make breakfast and here he was picturing what it’d feel like to have your pretty lips wrapped around him. It made Din feel downright depraved, but then again he never claimed to be a good man. His breath hitched as the thrusts into his hands grew erratic. His other arm rested on the shower wall, bare forehead pressed against his forearm, as hot water from the shower ran down his back.

“Din!” Your voice came from the other side of the door as your knuckles rapped against the door. Hearing his name from your lips, Din came with a shudder and though he buried his mouth against his forearm to hide his pleasure a moan still slipped out. “Din? Are you alright?”

Maker, you really were going to be the death of him. Din cleared his throat, “I’m⏤ I’m fine. Just... moved wrong.” Din blurted. He had been out during the night taking care of a few reptavians who had left their nest in the lava plains to try and settle in the streets. He handled it without even having to call Mayfeld or Cara for backup, but it’d work fine as an excuse. “A reptavian⏤”

“Did you get hurt?” You asked and the concern in your voice made his chest ache. “I asked earlier and you said you were fine! Do I need to get my kit? They’re venomous creatures, aren’t they?”

Din flipped the shower’s handle from hot to cold and grimaced when the icy water replaced the warmth. It was necessary though. As absolutely pathetic as it was, the sound of your voice was going to make him hard again. He grunted out, “I just pulled my shoulder I think. No wounds for you to cauterize.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d lower myself to using a cautery.” You joked. Din chuckled and ran his hands over his face in a poor attempt to get a hold of himself. “I wanted to let you know breakfast is ready if you’re hungry.”

“Thanks. I’ll be out in a second.” He called back.

The sound of your fading footsteps made him heave a sigh of relief. Din let the ice water run over him for a moment more before shutting it off and reaching for a towel. Dank farrik. Din quickly pulled on his shirt and a pair of sweatpants before using the towel to dry his hair best he could. It’d be nice to dry it entirely before putting his helmet on, but that meant spending more time in the bathroom. Din scratched the scruff at his jawline and his stupid brain wondered if you’d prefer a clean shaven guy. He muttered a string of curses under his breath in annoyance at himself before shoving his helmet onto his head.

When he stepped out, he noticed Grogu waiting for him at the end of the hall in the arch that led into the kitchen. The little boy giggled while bouncing in place. Din tilted his head. “What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into, ad’ika?”

“Where did⏤” Your voice drifted toward him. “Grogu, did you eat your buir’s sandwich??”

Grogu giggled again. Din chuckled and pointed at him, “Come here, you little womp rat.” Grogu squealed in excitement and rushed away. Din chased after his son who ran and jumped to avoid him. You laughed from your spot leaning against the kitchen counter. Din paused as he watched Grogu leap into your arms. He set his hands on his hips, “You think your ma can keep you from me, ad’ika?”

Din took a step around the counter, but stopped again when he noticed you mirrored his step with a smirk⏤ maintaining the same distance between the two of you. He tilted his head, lips curling into a grin under his helmet. You shrugged. “I promised to take care of Grogu and if that means protecting him from a Mandalorian…”

“I can respect that.” Din took another slow step in your direction and you stumbled back. Grogu began to pat on your shoulder as a warning. His son knew that if you really wanted to escape you’d need to start moving right now⏤ not that that would really stop him. “You know, you have a bad habit of challenging Mandalorians.”

The last time you had challenged him, while lying in bed with Grogu, Din ended up on top of you. That was the kind of situation he’d be more than happy to repeat. Grogu whined for you to run and Din found it amusing that his son was aware of any warning sign he might have. You seemed to think you were still in a position of power when the exact opposite was true. 

“Mmm, not Mandalorians. Just you.” You smirked. Din felt feral. Combining the idea of an adrenaline filled hunt and his desire for you was an addicting prospect. He liked it way, way more than he should. “What’re you gonna do about it, Djarin?”

Din slipped his hands into his sweatpants pockets, the picture of casual nonchalance, and grinned in excitement under his helmet. “I can bring you in warm,” He didn't bother hiding the amusement in his voice, “or I can bring you in cold.”

Grogu snickered conspiratorially, and you arched a single eyebrow in challenge. Din needed no further invitation. Quicker than you had probably assumed, he lunged forward and you yelped in surprise followed by a laugh. You ran from him, hurrying around the kitchen island, and Din gave chase. Without his heavy armor and gear, Din was faster than he was out in the field. He could end this chase in a second or two, but where was the fun in that? Din stayed close enough to be a threat, but far enough to allow you to slip away from him consistently. The sound of his deep chuckles mingled with the pitch of Grogu and your laughs. 

You rounded the couch, with the thought that a barrier would keep him from you. It was a fair thought, but Din hurdled over the sofa in one smooth movement and landed in front of you. You cried out in surprise and tried to spin to turn the opposite way. Din was quick to wrap his arms around your middle and lift you up off the ground with ease. He still found it cute that you had worried you’d be too heavy for him. You squirmed in his arms, but he simply tightened his.

Din could tell you about the time he had to trek across a Tatooine desert in his full gear while carrying Grogu and everything he had on a land speeder that had been destroyed in a fight⏤ including all of Boba Fett’s gear. That would come off as bragging though, wouldn’t it? Not that Din didn’t want to brag, but he at least didn’t want to be obvious about it.

“Hey!” You twisted to try and escape his grasp while Grogu leaned over your shoulder and tapped on his helmet while babbling demands between each giggle that left him. To stop your squirming, Din roughly squeezed your sides which caused even louder laughs to leave you. He didn’t know you were ticklish. It had just been a guess. One he found immense pleasure in discovering. “No tickling! That’s not fair!”

“I never claimed to play fair.” Din hummed, nestling his head by yours.

“You’re the marshal. I’m pretty sure there are laws that say I have rights.”

“Hmm, alright.” Din replied. He squeezed you once more, eliciting another startled laugh, before dropping you back to your feet so he could spin you around. Din kept his hands on your hips caging you against his chest. He tilted his head. “Would you like me to bring out a pair of binders?”

“I, uh, I…” You were grasping for words.

“Buir, parjii!” Grogu praised.

Winner. That was a good word to describe him right now. With you and Grogu in his arms, Din felt like he had won the universe. Din took Grogu from your arms and set him on the ground, “Tsikador.” Grogu whined briefly. “Ad’ika.”

Grogu mumbled an affirmative before waddling toward his room. You began to turn to help Grogu get ready for the day, but Din tightened his grip on you. Your attention focused back on him with wide and curious eyes. Din cleared his throat, nervous suddenly, and he nodded. “I wanted to…”

“What is it, Din?”

Before he could lose his nerve, Din took a steadying breath and let his hands leave your hips to settle on his helmet. He wanted you to see his face. All his fears remained. What if he felt even less like himself as he drifted further away from his Creed? What if he was overplaying his hand? What if you meant more to him than he did to you and this just scared you away? What if you didn’t like his appearance? The fears were loud in his mind, but the way he felt about you was so much louder.

Din began to lift when your hands suddenly shot up to cover his⏤ halting his movements. It caught him off guard, as did the panic in your eyes. You shook your head. “Don’t.”

“It’s alright, ner kar’ta.” Din reassured. “I’m okay with this. I want this.”

He tried once more, but your hands tugged his helmet back in place. You swallowed nervously. “I…” Realization dawned on him then. It wasn’t that you were concerned for him. You didn’t want this. Din felt his heart plummet in his chest. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea right now.”

Your voice was soft and quiet, yet the words might as well have been screamed in his face with the way he was feeling⏤ like all the air had been pulled out of the room and he was suffocating. Din let his hands fall and he took a step back. One foot between the two of you might as well have felt like miles. Suddenly, new fears ran amok in his mind fueling his anxiety. Had he tricked himself into seeing something that wasn’t there? Ever since that day, you hadn’t initiated or returned any of his advances. Maker, had he been making you uncomfortable? Was he just some sleemo boss harassing you and because of his position you felt you couldn’t tell him to stop? Din had never hated himself more. He knew he was terrible at relationships and forming connections, but this was worse than he could’ve kriffing imagined.

“I should help Grogu. I promised him I’d take him to the park this morning.” You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly. “You should get some sleep. You were out all night⏤ I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

“Right.” Din mumbled. You offered him a small, polite smile and hurried away. He forced himself to wander to the kitchen island where the food you made for breakfast, the items Grogu hadn’t scarfed down, lay waiting. Din found he didn’t have much of an appetite right now.

Dank farrik.

Dank farrik.

You wanted to punch yourself in the face. Was that  something physically possible? Maybe you’d ask Nima to do it for you. If you told her the mistake you made, Maker knows she’d be tempted anyway. Din wanted to show you his face. Din trusted you enough that he wanted to take his helmet off and reveal his face, and like the Maker damned idiot you were, you said no. Even with the helmet on, you could tell he was hurt. It radiated off him and it was why you had to rush away from him. 

Dank farrik, you were so stupid.

You had panicked. The way Din made you feel in such a short amount of time was terrifying. It wasn’t until Karga shed light on your past that you realized just how much he made you feel. Din brought you a comfort you didn’t know you’d be able to experience. The longer you thought about it the more scared you became⏤ the more worried. You started working for Din a few months ago. That was it. Not even half a year yet. You barely knew Din, and Din barely knew you. Sure, he knew a bit more about you now thanks to Karga, but that was just the surface. 

Your greatest fear was that you were taking advantage of Din. One of the things you did know about him was how protective he was. He showcased it with everyone in his life. The thought that Din was just growing attached to you because you needed comfort⏤ needed protecting⏤ was hardly ideal. Add that to the fact that you were his son’s caretaker. You just didn’t want Din to feel obligated to you in any way. 

These were the thoughts and regrets that plagued you as you sat on a park bench watching Grogu play with a few of the other kids on the playground. You were mildly tempted to bury yourself alive in the sandbox as repentance for the morning. That’d be easier than puzzling out your twisted heart.

“You look like you’re having a hell of a morning.” 

You turned to see Jaen standing at the end of the bench. The young woman had a daughter she had adopted who shared a class with Grogu. Where Jaen had dark skin with short wavy hair, her daughter, Elodie, was a light skinned toddler with blonde curls and bright green eyes. You had grown close with Jaen as Grogu grew close to Elodie. In fact, you could see the little girl was now sitting in the sand with Grogu as they played.

“It went from amazing to bad, shockingly fast.” You admitted. “And it was all my fault.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Jaen sat down beside you, crossing her legs.

You sighed. “It’s Mando. I messed up this morning.”

“You guys have a fight or something?”

You began to explain your morning in vague details. Just enough for Jaen to understand the depth in which you had fucked up. The young woman listened intently and nodded along. “I shouldn’t have panicked like I did. It’s just⏤” You threw your hands up frustrated. “He once told me that the only people who would get to see his face are his children, like Grogu, and his wife. His wife. What does that mean that he wants to show me his face? And⏤And, what if he shows me his face and then regrets it? He’d be choosing me over his Creed in that moment, and if I don’t live up to his expectations then he’s gonna be disappointed and I’m just going to be the woman who made him break his Creed. Again.”

Jaen nodded a few times in thought, humming to herself, then narrowed her eyes at you, “You’re already his wife though, aren’t you?”

“What??” You shook your head.

“I thought you and the Marshal were married and Grogu was your kid.” Jaen replied. “The two of you are always together, you live in the same house, I just assumed…”

“No. No, no. I am not his wife. I’m his son’s nanny.”

Jaen paused a beat then tilted her head. “Are you sure?”

“Well, last time I checked at least.” You scoffed. Jaen’s husband, Dayen, walked up with three cups of caf. He handed the first cup to Jaen then took the one stacked on his other to hand to you. Dayen looked like he could actually be Elodie’s father⏤ his blond hair was a similar shade and his skin was only a bit darker due to working in the sun. “Thank you so much. I really needed this.”

Dayen grinned and Jaen scooted closer to you so he could sit at the end of the bench by her. “No problem, Soran.” After having your talk with Din, it almost felt odd to hear people call you by that name. Something had changed. You had initially taken her name out of guilt⏤ a way to keep her name alive. Now it felt… It felt like it didn’t fit anymore. “You were looking rough. No offense.”

“Oh!” Jaen lightly tapped his chest with the back of her hand. “You’re not gonna believe this. Soran and Mando aren’t together.”

“Yeah, they are.” He argued. “They’re married.” Jaen shook her head and he leaned forward to narrow his eyes at you in confusion. “You’re married, aren’t you?”

You gave him a tight lipped smile. “Apparently, you guys know something I don’t.”

Jaen shifted so her back was to her husband and she could face you. “Alright. So what are you gonna do then?”

“Well,” You slumped in your seat and took a big sip of your caf before speaking again, “I was thinking about burying myself alive in the sandbox before you guys got here.”

“So, we got here in the nick of time, then?” Dayen chuckled.

Jaen shook her head. “Okay, walk me through exactly what happened again. I stopped listening out of shock when I realized the two of you weren’t married.”

You let out a small laugh followed by another sip of caf. Just as you did before, you talked about how your morning went and then you dove into the way it made you feel. This time you couldn’t bite back the list of fears that plagued you. When you finished, Jaen and Dayen were both staring at you with wide eyes.

“I overshared, didn’t I?” You sighed.

“Not an overshare.” Jaen replied. “Just a lot. You have a lot of feelings.”

You buried your face in one hand and groaned. Wasn’t that the epitome of everything that was wrong? Your friend reached out to set her hand on your shoulder and you let your own hand fall away to meet her gaze. Jaen chuckled. “You listed a lot of things you’re worried about, but something tells me that deep down it’s only one that’s holding you back. Everything else is just an add-on excuse.” She shrugged. “You have to figure out what that one thing is and address it. Otherwise, you’re always gonna freeze up.”

“Huh.” You mumbled in thought.

Dayen gave you a thumbs up. “She knows what she’s talking about. Usually.”

“Usually??” Jaen spun back around to glare at him.

“Always. I said, always.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “You’re so pretty.”

“Uh huh.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the bond between the two of them. It made you think of Din. Even now, unsure and confused and panicked, seeing a moment like this he was the first to come to mind. You wanted that. You wanted to sit on a park bench with him, watching Grogu play, as your fingers tangled with his. The thought overwhelmed you. Why was it so easy for you to feel this way right now, but panic the way you did when Din offered you the first step toward this?

You took another long sip of caf as your brain tried to untangle itself. Grogu and Elodie were in the process of building a sand castle with two other kids. In the distance, you heard the squealing of metal on metal followed by the loud crash of an impact. You stiffened in your seat, everyone in the park following suit, when the sound of a woman screaming filled the air. You recognized that sound. 

“Watch Grogu.” You said as you came to stand. The cup of caf fell to the ground and it spilled as the lid popped off. “Jaen please⏤”

“We will, but⏤” Jaen stood. Dayen was already running to the sand box to grab both children. You took off running as well, but your direction was toward the scream. “Soran! Soran, what are you doing!?”

Faintly, you heard Grogu calling out for you, but you couldn’t stop. You knew Grogu was safe with Jaen and Dayen. That was enough comfort to keep you from hesitating in your forward motion. You sprinted down the street, rushing past people, until you could see Peli’s garage. It wasn’t far from the park. A crowd had formed around the outside of it. 

“Move!” You barked and pushed through the people. They didn’t move quick enough for your liking so you resorted to shoving them. “Get out of my way!” 

When you entered the garage, you could see mechanics standing near the back where something was smoking. You were close enough to hear hysterical sobbing⏤ the voice much too familiar for comfort. When you were kids, Nima had fallen out of a tree and broke her leg. The sound of her scream had been carved into your very being. It was something you’d recognize anywhere. 

The mechanics dove out of your way. A land speeder had careened into the all, cratering the brick it slammed into, and Nima’s right arm was pinned somewhere between the metal and rubble. Peli knelt by her side, yelling into a communicator. There was a flash of panic, it mingled with fear, but it didn’t last nearly as long as you thought it would. You snapped into the role of a healer just like you used to.

“Peli, I need your first aid kit. Get the med droid here as well.” You commanded. Peli rushed away and you slid to Nima’s side. You cupped Nima’s face, strained with pain and streaked with tears and oil, in an attempt to get her attention on you. “Nima. Nima, it’s me. I need you to look at me, hon.” Nima’s wide eyes finally landed on you. “There we go.” She called out your name⏤ your real name⏤ and you nodded. “That’s right. I need you to take some deep breaths with me.”

“It⏤It hurts. Maker, I⏤I⏤ It fucking hurts!” Nima sobbed, her ragged breaths worsened.

“I know, I know.” You set your hand on your chest in hopes the weight of your hand would anchor her. “Breathe. Slow breaths. Match mine, hon. Come on.”

Nima was finally able to listen to your commands, and while she continued you let your eyes dart to where her arm disappeared into the mess of metal. She was pinned below the elbow⏤ her right arm twisted and mangled. Magenta colored blood was dripping onto the garage floor under her at an alarming rate.

You glanced around the crowd until your eyes landed on a mechanic wearing a normal belt. “Here! Now!” He jumped in alarm and rushed forward. You pulled your hand away from Nima, she sobbed at the loss of touch, and you ripped the belt off him before shoving him back. “This is gonna hurt. Stay with me. Talk to me.”

As you began to create a tourniquet, Nima screamed bloody murder. You softly reassured her while keeping your hands firm and confident in your movements. You pushed her to start talking again and she began to stumble over her words.

“I messed up⏤ I⏤ I messed up.” Nima gasped. Peli finally arrived with the first aid kit and she reassured you that the droid was on his way. After being repaired, it was the only source of medical care on this rock. Other than you. “I tried⏤ I tried to stop it. I should’ve let go. I should’ve let go. My arm. My arm⏤ My arm⏤”

“Hush, girl!” Peli scolded. “Don’t think about that. Walk me through a strip down of an engine. The Razor Crest’s engine. How’re we gonna fix that? From the top!”

You were thankful for Peli’s intrusion. While she listened to Nima struggle through explaining the mechanical work, you focused on the injury. First things first, you needed to get the bike off her. The longer she was pinned the worse it would be when she was finally released. Her bone and muscle were crushed and it would end up unbalancing the electrolytes in her blood once released. 

“Hey, all of you. Grab the bike. Pull on my mark.” You yelled. The mechanics rushed to help and when they seemed to have a solid grip you checked to make sure the tourniquet was firmly in place. Rather than give her warning, you gave the mark for the mechanics to pull back. The land speeder slid out of the wall in a Maker awful sound as the torn metal scratched against the garage floor, but you could barely hear that over Nima’s horrific screams of pain. Her voice was hoarse and raw. You and Peli pulled her away from the pool of blood. As you dragged her, she passed out⏤ her head lolling to her chest. You laid her on her back and examined her arm. It was barely recognizable. Her wrist was bent at an odd angle, fingers all broken, and blood seeped out of her torn flesh and muscle. 

The worst sense of realization washed over you.

Nima was going to lose her lower arm if she didn’t get treated right now. You lifted your communicator up to speak into it and noticed then that Nima’s blood was splattered up your own arms. Fingers stained magenta. Ignoring it, you typed in the number for the clinic. Thankfully, the voice you wanted to hear answered.

“Aayla?” You cried.

“Oh, Doc! I just sent the med droid your way. Peli called us. What⏤”

“I need you to get the bacta tank up and running.”

“The bacta⏤ It hasn’t been used in months though.”

“I’ll walk you through resetting it. Get there now.” You said. The sound of her quick, muffled movements filled the air and when she said she was there you began to give her instructions. Maker, when was the last time you worked out the measurements of a bacta tank? As you instructed, you used the tools in the first aid kit to wrap soaked, sterile gauze around her arm to protect the injury. You did the mental math quickly and listed off the numbers for Aayla to use. “Did that work? Describe it to me.”

“Uh, something is happening. The screen says processing and it’s making some kind of whining noise.”

It was working. “Good. I’ll be there soon.”

“Move it!” A familiar voice shouted. You glanced over your shoulder to see Mayfeld approaching with the med droid by his side. His eyes landed on you, then Nima, then back to you in shock. “Soran?? What the kriff is going on?! What happ⏤”

“Later, Mayfeld.” You pushed to stand. “She needs to be at the clinic right now.”

He only hesitated a second more before he grabbed the floating stretcher that the med droid had brought with it. The med droid drifted closer and you could tell he was scanning Nima’s prone body. He chirped out. “Patient’s vitals are stable. However, injury to right lower arm is extensive. Amputation will be necessary.”

“She’s going into a bacta tank. She’ll be fine as long as we get her in it in the next few minutes. Then I can monitor and assess from there.” You argued. 

You and Peli bent over to help Mayfeld scoop Nima up and get her onto the stretcher without jostling her too much. The droid hummed in casual disagreement. “I am not authorized to establish or monitor a bacta tank. That is limited to a program beyond myself and⏤”

“I’m a physician! License code 32RJ90012.” You snapped, ignoring the weight of eyes on you. “You listen to me.”

The droid nodded. “Yes, Doctor.” 

“Now, let’s go.” You hurried out of the garage as Mayfeld kept pace with you pushing Nima on the stretcher. You were going to save Nima and her arm. There was no room for hesitation, no room for self-doubt, and no room for error.

Din Djarin was going to commit homicide this morning. Already, he was over today after his blunder with you. After you had left with Grogu he had fallen into bed in hopes that he could sleep away his regret and disappointment. Only a few hours had passed when he was awoken by a banging on his front door. It wasn’t that he needed more sleep, he was well acquainted with little to no sleep, it was the principle of the thing. Din didn’t want to be disturbed and whoever was pounding their fist on his door repeatedly was going to be shot and left for dead on his porch.

After pulling on his armor, he stormed to the front of his house and ripped the door open. Greef Karga stood there with a casual look of nonchalance on his features. Karga gave him a smile in greeting and Din reminded himself that it would be a bad look for the Marshal of Nevarro to shoot the High Magistrate dead. If he did, the city might expect him to rise in the ranks and Din would rather die himself than lead this city.

“You’re not allowed to knock on my door anymore, Karga.” Din barked in irritation.

Karga’s eyes widened in surprise. “Mando. You’re in a rather foul mood. Don’t tell me I interrupted you again.” Din’s hand clenched on the door frame. People always assumed he was a patient man when quite the opposite was true. Din was quick to anger, quick to any emotion really, but the beskar he wore acted as a mask he could hide behind and he had grown very, very good at controlling himself. The bad news with that was that people overestimated how far they could push him. Karga swept past him into the house and Din slammed the door shut. Karga scoffed, “Really, Mando. No need to be so cross. I did exactly as you asked and stayed far away from the Doctor Nanny, as promised.”

“Then why the kriff are you here?” Din spat. If Karga had come to bother you about a job again his self-control would shatter to pieces. 

“I’m here for business with you, old friend.” Din simply crossed his arms at Karga’s words. The man sighed and pulled a puck from his robe pocket. “We have eyes on Daelar.”

Din caught the puck when it was tossed to him and activated it. “Where is he?”

“Hiding out even further in the Outer Rim, if you can believe in.” Karga replied. “A little out of the way, but I got eyes all over. He didn’t stand a chance.”

Din rolled the idea around in his head. Now that would be quite the way to work out his anger and frustration. Daelar signed his death certificate the moment he abandoned you and Grogu. Maker knows Din had killed for less in the past. A good man would let that rage go. A good man would turn Daelar into the authorities and get his license taken away. A good man wouldn’t commit to murder quite so quickly. But, as it had already been established, he was not a good man.

“What’re you planning on doing to him?” Karga questioned. Din didn’t respond. He had no reason to and the less people knew the better. When the High Magistrate realized he was not going to receive an answer he huffed. “I thought finding this news out would put you in a better mood. Where’s my little buddy? He’ll be happy to see me. He napping?”

“He’s at the park.” Din replied.

Karga’s eyes widened. “You’re off so she should be off as well, shouldn’t she? You do give her time off, don’t you?”

Din had a smartass remark hanging from his lips, but he swallowed it as the thought occurred to him. He always assumed you took care of Grogu on Saturdays as well because of a desire to be with the child, but he had never outright asked you. Most of his days off, all three of you would end up at the park or spending time at home. Had you experienced a proper day off yet? Did you feel obligated to continue caring for Grogu because he hadn’t specified that it wasn’t your responsibility on his days off? Din just enjoyed spending time with you and loved having the two people he cared for most in this galaxy within his reach on his day off. After what happened this morning, Din was drowning in doubt. When you dragged the edge of his helmet back down over his head you might as well have shoved his head underwater. 

The ringing of a communicator snapped Din out of the haze he had fallen into and he lifted his vambrace, but it was Karga who was receiving a message. He watched curiously as Karga’s face fell while reading. Din stiffened, “What’s going on?”

“We have to get to the clinic now.” Karga marched for the door and Din didn’t hesitate to follow. “Nima was injured.”

It didn’t take the two of them very long to make it into the clinic and the first person Din spotted was Peli standing by the front desk arguing with the medical tech he had met before. Aayla was her name? Peli slammed a hand down on the front desk’s counter.

“She’s my employee, why can’t I kriffing go and see her!?”

“The patient is currently in a bacta tank and per physician orders⏤”

“I don’t give a damn⏤”

“Peli.” Din called out. The curly haired woman turned around and her face was drawn in lines of frustration and panic. Karga drifted away when he spotted Mayfeld talking to a few mechanics off to the side. “Talk to me.”

Peli shook her head. “Nima basically lost her kriffing arm and this tail head won’t let me through!”

Din held his hands out in a calming motion and nodded his head reassuringly. “I’m sure there’s a reason you can’t go back yet. They’re probably limiting visitors for the time being.” He wondered if you were back there with Nima. Did you know what had happened? Maybe he needed to call you. “I’ll step back⏤”

“The doc said nobody is allowed back yet, Marshal.” Aayla said.

Peli motioned to the Twi’lek as if to say ‘see’, and Din sighed. The older mechanic shoved him all of a sudden and Din was alarmed to be at the receiving end of her anger. “Go tell your nanny to let us back right now or so help me⏤”

“Wait, what?” He blurted.

“Who the kriff do you think is back there right now?? It sure as hell ain’t the med droid!”

You had… Dank farrik. Worry and concern mingled in his chest in an uncomfortable way. Awkwardness born from this morning aside, that didn’t stop how he felt. It didn’t stop him from caring. He remembered how broken you had been after Grogu. He turned back to the desk to see that Aayla had disappeared. 

Din shook his head. “What happened??”

“Land speeder malfunctioned. Shot off like a rocket. Nima tried to stop it by grabbing onto the handlebars to hit the brake, but it just dragged her along.” Peli crossed her arms with a frown. “Pinned her to the wall.” Din grimaced. Maker, that was bad. He didn’t spend much time with Nima anymore, he used to see her often when he would go to pick up Grogu from Peli, but he hoped the young mechanic was alright. “Your girl sprinted in out of nowhere and just took charge. She said she was a doctor. That true??”

Din hesitated before coming up with an answer. It wasn’t his place to admit⏤ even if you had already kind of blurted it out. Aayla’s voice chirped out as she returned and she shot him a small smile. “Doc says you can come back, Marshal.”

Peli grumbled under her breath and Din paused long enough to squeeze the woman’s shoulder reassuringly before rushing back. The first room he entered from the doors had been the one Grogu was in when he was here, but now it was empty. Against the back wall, he could see a door cracked open. Din quickly crossed the room and stuck his head into the small space.

Nima was floating in a bacta tank, peaceful and stable, while you sat cross legged on a stool with your forehead leaning against the tank’s glass. At his entrance, you lifted your gaze and he could see your brow creased with worry. Briefly, his anxiety held him back. He couldn’t rid himself of the way you looked at him when you stopped him from lifting his helmet this morning. Din shoved that to the back of his mind. This wasn’t about him. His feelings and desires did not matter a bit right now.

Din shut the door behind him as he drew closer and he dropped to one knee to kneel in beside you. You shifted on the stool so you faced him. He nodded, “How is she?”

“She’s gonna be alright.” You shrugged. “Her lower arm was wrecked, but I think we got her here in time. It’ll be a little while before I see if the bacta tank is going to heal her arm.” You wrung your hands together and Din could see dried flecks of magenta blood against your skin. It was only then that he noticed you had changed out of your clothes into a pair of random scrubs. “I had to set her arm and I did my best, but it was crushed to pieces. I don’t know if it’ll heal right.”

“I’m sure you did fine.” He said softly. Din had the urge to pull you into his arms, offer comfort, but he resisted. Instead, he wrapped his hands around the bar between the stool’s legs by your feet.

“How did you know to come?”

“Karga paid me a visit. Mayfeld must have called him to notify him about the injury.”

“Oh.”

Din briefly glanced around, “Where is⏤”

“Jaen and Dayen have Grogu. He was playing at the park with Elodie when…” Your voice trailed off as you swallowed hard. Din recognized those names and knew his son was in good hands for the time being. You shrugged. “I already called them and they said they’d bring him here after getting the kids lunch.”

Din’s fists tightened around the stool. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Ner kar’ta.” Din pressed. The name felt right. Even if you wanted nothing to do with him it didn’t alter the change you made to his heart. You had taken it, like a thief in the night, and no circumstance would ever bring Din to try and take that back. It belonged to you⏤ It would always belong to you.

You rubbed your face and forced a smile. “I’m really not that bad. Not like last time. I’m worried about Nima because I love her, but…” You sighed. “If I hadn’t been there. It would’ve been awful. The med droid can’t operate a bacta tank.” Din nodded but didn’t speak. He could see you had more to say. “I didn’t even think of Soran while I…”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Din asked.

“Yeah. It made me remember why I went into medicine in the first place. I wanted to save people. Make a difference in the world around me.” You said. Din held back the words that came to mind. You already made a difference in the world. Your existence alone bettered the world around you⏤ bettered the lives of the people you knew. “I realized something else too.” Din waited. Your hand lifted to rub the scar over your collarbone. “I come up with all these excuses to try and avoid the real problem. I don’t want to face my fear alone so I surrounded myself in dozens of different problems as a distraction to myself. I was never running from Medicine. I was never running from myself, Din.”

“What were you running from, ner kar’ta?” His question came out in a soft whisper.

For a moment, the only sound came from the bubbling of the bacta tank. You wrung your hands once more, nervously, and Din had to once again resist the urge to tangle his fingers with yours. Give you something to hold onto. “Kurt. I was running from Kurt.” He knew the name. In your file, the name of the man who brought you to court to try and take away your license had been Kurt. Din made the connection when your hand lifted again to touch the scar. “He tried to kill me.”

If Din thought he had been angry before, he was wrong. He could feel his blood boiling within his beskar armor. The thought of someone even laying their hands on you filled him with more rage than he should be allowed to feel, but the fact that there was a person out in the galaxy who had actively tried to kill you⏤ to take you out of this world⏤ made his teeth clench. His back molars threatened to crack with how tense his jaw had grown.

“You don’t have to be angry about it.” You murmured. People always confused his measured anger for patience, but not you. You always seemed to know how he felt under the helmet regardless of how quiet he kept himself. “He’s on trial right now for it. I don’t know the details. Nima actually knows more because I don’t like keeping up with it and she says someone has to.” You shrugged. “When he was… hurting me,” Din sucked in a sharp breath to try and maintain some semblance of control, “He said all this terrible stuff. How it was my fault, and I deserved to die because of it. He was the reason I blamed myself for so long. I think a part of me still does.”

“That wasn’t⏤”

“I know.” You chuckled. “I’m doing so much better since we spoke, you did so much for me, but some days are better than others. I think it’ll always be that way. One day I’ll wake up and I‘ll understand it was out of my hands, and on some other day I’ll wake up and blame myself. I don’t think there’s a cure for that.”

Despite talking about your pained past, you wore a small smile on your face and Din had never felt such pride at seeing a smile. Maker, you were strong. You were his heart, and you were so kriffing strong. He wanted to put it into words and express that to you, but he didn’t know how. Dank farrik. Din relied so much on action and not being able to touch you, reassure you, share his pride in you, left him feeling like he had lost one of his senses entirely. 

“And, Din, about this morning,” Your smile faltered and Din stiffened, “I’m so sorry⏤”

“No. Don’t.” Din blurted and shook his head. “You don’t need to apologize. I do. I shouldn’t have pressured you into anything⏤ I should have asked before⏤”

You reached out and set a hand on his shoulder, close to his neck, and he could feel the weight of you through his cloak and flight suit. “Din, you did nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing. I panicked because…” You squeezed his shoulder. “I did the same thing again. Came up with a bunch of issues and doubts because I was scared to admit what the real problem was.” Din’s mouth grew dry and it felt like his heart was going to literally beat out of his chest. He didn’t know where this was going, he didn’t know how he was supposed to feel, but the flicker of hope was a dangerous thing. Din didn’t think he’d survive extinguishing twice. Finally, you spoke, “I’m scared⏤ terrified⏤ that I’ll become a burden and disappointment to you.”

Din blinked in shock. Of all the words that existed in Basic that you could string together, he never expected that sentence. A burden? A disappointment?? Never. You could never be either. He was at a loss for words. How could he show you how he felt? How could he make you understand what you meant to him?

“I know right now you consider yourself an Apostate.” You said. He noticed the way you stressed the word ‘you’. As if trying to make it clear that it was not the same belief you held. “So, maybe it makes showing your face easier, but I⏤ I don’t want to push you further from your Creed. I know how much it means to you, how important it is, and I would hate myself if I became a barrier between you and it.”

“Ner kar’ta⏤”

“And what if we drift apart? I’d just be the woman who took advantage of a moment⏤ who accepted something that I wasn’t sure you were even ready to give.”

Din shook his head. “That isn’t the case. I am ready. I⏤ I care for you.” Maker, why was it so hard to speak? “This wouldn’t become something I regret. You could never be something I regret.”

You startled him by sliding off the stool forcing his hands away from the bar. You knelt in front of him and lifted your hands up to his neck. Your thumb brushed against the skin right under his helmet where his shirt didn’t quite reach. Din sucked in a breath at the contact. It meant more because it was you who initiated it.

“Your face isn’t a factor in what I think of you.” You said firmly. “What you look like under there, it will never change how I see you. I already know the kind of man you are. When I⏤ If I get to see your face…” Din noticed the slip up. The eventuality. He almost wanted to correct you. There was no ‘if’ about this. “I don’t want it to go against your Creed. I don’t want it to be a sin that requires redeeming.”

If Din wasn’t being held up by his heavy, beskar armor he was sure he would’ve melted into your arms. For the first time in a long time, he was relieved he wore a helmet because he didn’t want you to see the way his eyes began to water. Din always assumed that unless he found someone within the covert, he would have to choose between love and his Creed. He had resolved himself to that fact and understood that meant he might never have love.

Meeting you was the first time since Grogu that he was willing to show his face. You were, without a doubt, the first woman he had met who tempted him to cast aside his Creed⏤ a feat he didn’t think would ever be possible. Once he fell into your orbit, he was caught and there was nothing that would pull him away from you. Din was sure even you weren’t aware of the power you held over him. He would go to war with his bare hands if you commanded it. He would cross the galaxy ten times over if it meant bringing you any shred of happiness. But, instead of making him choose a part of himself, you accepted every bit of him. You understood the respect he had for his Creed and you would not force him to walk away from it. More than just that, you stopped him from making the decision he thought he had to make. You made him realize that he shouldn’t have to sacrifice a part of himself to deserve love.

“Can I touch you, ner kar’ta?” Din asked in a voice too quiet and hoarse for his liking.

“You never have to ask, Din.” You replied. 

Din collapsed into you. He pressed his head against your chest and wrapped his arms around you. When your own arms came to cradle him, your chin resting on the top of his helmet, Din let out a shuddering breath. Your hand held the back of his neck, finding that small sliver of skin once more, and he felt your fingers brush against the hair that sat at the nape of his neck. Din could’ve stayed like this forever, but too soon you began to pull away.

“Will you stay with me?” You asked. “It’ll be an hour or so until I’m able to see what direction Nima’s condition is moving in, and I don’t want to leave her side.”

Din’s throat was still tight, unshed tears lining his lashes, and he didn’t trust his voice. He dragged himself a few feet away to lean against the wall and held a hand out to you. He could see your shoulders sag in relief, an invisible weight being lifted, and you crawled toward him. Rather than settling next to him, you placed yourself between his legs and leaned back against his chest. You lightly grasped his arms to pull around you in a hold and you didn’t need to tell him to keep his grip there. Din squeezed around your waist while you held onto his arm. Your fingers tracing the lines of his vambrace. A comfortable silence surrounded the both of you and Din took in a steadying breath. 

This wasn’t a crush or infatuation. This was something special. A part of him always knew, but he had never felt more confirmation of that then he did right now. This was unique and he had to do this the right way. Din wanted to do right by you, provide for you, and in order to properly court you like a Mandalorian should he’d need to find his Creed once more.

Din needed to find redemption.

He needed to go to Mandalore.

mando’a translations

Epar : Eat Buir : Father Parjii : Winner Tsikador : get ready Ad’ika: little one Ner kar’ta : my heart

A/N: This is the first chapter that feels like a real chapter to me. I love all the other ones, don’t get me wrong, but if you know me from AO3 at all you know I like to pick a theme and then explore that theme in a single chapter which makes my chapters unusually long. I got to do that with this one and it makes me so so happy. Hopefully it made y’all happy too🥰

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