#emblazons milestone

[emblazons]

In The Closet (At Rink-O-Mania)

 Mike Wheeler + Subtextual Queercoding 🏳️‍🌈 an @emblazons 1K free space gifset for @ice-sculptures

just because its visual & can be hard to discern, here are the "queer coding" aspects I chose, in order:

Mike stares at Wills mouth several times over the course of S3-S4 especially—the movie theater in S3 is another one that I didn't get to include, but that is as dramatic as the three I did manage to put here lmao. He also looks at boys like Eddie (and maybe even the boy behind Angela) with extreme interest, which was a gif I made but that didn't make the primary set.

Closet Imagery follows this boy around like a shadow, and has since Season 1. Bonus points for Mike being in the phone booth in The Nina Project, because...the closet is glass. 😂

Mike wanting girls out of "mens/boys only" spaces happens so many times its laughable. Hilariously, he also gets kicked out of the girls bathroom (the same way he kicks girls out of boys spaces) in Rink o Mania come Season 4.

The worlds most coded "you can admit you're gay to me" conversation happens between Karen and Mike in season 1, right after he puts El in his closet. ☠️ Bonus points for how Will must be affecting him is mentioned right before that happens.

Mike is disgusted / displeased with women several times over the course of the show. Not included in the gif: When Nancy asks Mike if he likes Eleven as they're preparing to make El a bath in S1; when Mike gets upset at the rest of the party for wanting to talk to Max despite not knowing her in MADMAX; him being mortified of lingerie along with Will in The Mall Rats in S3, when he looks confused/disgusted when Lucas tries to explain heterosexual romance to him throughout S3, and the way he takes El's hands off of him both while making out with her in Suzie, Do You Copy and when she greets him at the airport in Vecna's Curse. He also never kisses El for the rest of S4 after their greeting/walk at the airport + misses Angela hitting on him at Rink-O-Mania entirely, which you can make of what you will.

[werewolfnat]

Ok, so this has been in my drafts for so long that everything I had originally written out for this feels kinda meaningless to me now so I re-wrote it... I thought I would hit this a lot sooner but in true Tumblr fashion, they kept dicking me over.

But anyway ranting about Tumblr aside, in all seriousness (and yeah I know I say it every time) I'm super grateful to all of my lovely followers, even if at this point a fair amount have probably not been active for years (and i'm like 90% certain there's bots still among them too). You guys have stuck around through all my hyperfixations, both the good and terrible, and I appreciate each and everyone of you both new and old.

So to celebrate this milestone I'm gonna be doing some requests, So, if you wanna take part send me a request or two:

🕹️ Colour Palette Meme - Pick a colour palette + a character/ship/show/whatever. 📼 Make Me Choose - Send me 2 or more things to choose between. ���️ Timestamp Roulette - Send me a movie or a show ep and I'll blindly pick scenes from them to gif. 👾 Icons/Headers - Send me a character or whatever and maybe some colour options for some icons and headers. And something for my mutuals only; 📸 Character Photoset or some other gifset of your choice 😘 (I wanted to do a surprise gifset for y'all but despite having been active and mutuals with some of you for years and knowing most of your interests I still don't feel I know y'all well enough to actually do that 😅 and yeah I know it's my own fault for barely talking to anyone while you guys all talk to each...)

Now here's a little list of shows/movies I can gif:

Stranger Things (nothing that involves the zionist actors please!), Yellowjackets, Fallout, Fargo, 911, Marvel (main MCU movies up till Endgame and some other stuff), there's others too like certain movies and stuff but these are the things i can for sure gif, feel free to ask about other things ;)

Tagging some much loved mutuals under the cut (if i don't tag you know it will haunt me forever but i never know who to tag...)

@lengthofropes @nikossasaki @iero @buckysbarnes @buckleydiaz @miwtual @vinmauro @neverevan @softasawhisper @emblazons @corrodedbisexual @sidekick-hero @danesdehaan @avadaniels @mcbride @emziess @deanncastiel @thefreakandthehair @stevesjockstrap @tommykinardbuckley @alivedean @dirtbagdefender @padme-amidala

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Andrew Doyle

Published: Jun 25, 2024

The impact of the riots at the Stonewall Inn in June 1969 has often been overblown. Those few summer days when the beleaguered gay community fought back against the police on the streets of New York City are rightly considered a milestone in the struggle for equal rights in the West. But endless arguments about ‘who threw the first brick?’ have obscured the truth that gay equality was achieved by the activists who persisted in the aftermath, harnessing that energy and changing the world forever.

Perhaps a more important milestone was the march organised by a handful of campaigners a year after Stonewall. Craig Rodwell’s idea had been to make this a yearly commemoration that would supersede the ‘Annual Reminder’ picket events that he had been holding every Independence Day in Philadelphia since 1965. It would be known as the ‘Christopher Street Liberation Day’ – later retrospectively rebranded as the first New York ‘Pride’ march – and it was orchestrated chiefly by Rodwell, Fred Sargeant, Linda Rhodes and Ellen Broidy.

The march took place on 28 June 1970, and it was an audacious display. Police hostility to gay people was rife, the local media were overwhelmingly unsympathetic and there were fears of violent repercussions from observers. The day passed off peacefully, perhaps because of a general sense of astonishment that thousands of gay people would assemble so openly. A reporter for the Village Voice wrote that ‘no one could quite believe it, eyes rolled back in heads, Sunday tourists traded incredulous looks, wondrous faces poked out of air-conditioned cars’. At the head of the march, Fred Sargeant carried a bullhorn and called out instructions to the marchers as they made their way from the West Village to Central Park.

Fifty-four years later, and Pride has transformed from an important act of resistance into a month-long orgy of corporatism and virtue-signalling, full of heterosexuals desperate to identify themselves into an oppressed group with the help of trans ideology. ‘Progress Pride’ flags flutter from every high-street store. This relatively new design – a kaleidoscopic eyesore that has replaced the traditional six-stripe Pride flag – is emblazoned on schools, universities, hospitals, civic buildings. In the city of Arlington in Texas, this year’s family friendly Pride event included displays of dildos, half-naked drag queens and human dogs in bondage gear, all co-spon.sored by Lockheed Martin, the world’s largest producer of armaments. In London, numerous pedestrian crossings have been repainted with the ‘Progress Pride’ motif. Police horses find walking across the coloured stripes confusing and disturbing, so the animals have undergone special training to overcome their fears. After all, it is essential to address the rampant homophobia within the equine community.

What might the thousands who turned out on that summer day in New York in 1970 make of this distorted version of Pride? Those gay men and lesbians who risked social ostracism and physical violence to gather in public have little in common with this garish and unsettling facsimile. A poll from 2021 determined that almost 40 per cent of Americans between the ages of 18 and 24 now identify as LGBTQ. Given the vast majority identifying as such do so as ‘trans’, ‘nonbinary’ and ‘queer’, this means it is statistically certain that gay people are now the minority in this coalition. The early pioneers of gay rights didn’t risk so much for their movement to be usurped by fetishistic heterosexuals with a martyr complex.

It would be interesting to see polling data on how many gay people support Pride in its new ‘trans-inclusive’ incarnation. One recent poll on X asked a simple question: ‘Do you want Pride anymore?’ And although 93.5 per cent of respondents replied in the negative, social-media polls are notoriously useless and we would be unwise to draw any conclusions from them. Still, it is surely significant that this poll was reposted by Fred Sargeant, and that his answer was a resounding ‘No’. That the man who led the first Pride march, bullhorn in hand, should now reject the annual event that he co-created because of its embrace of gender ideology is far from trivial. Nor is it trivial that while handing out pamphlets critical of the trans movement at a Pride event in Vermont in 2022, Sargeant was physically attacked by trans activists.

[ A parade through New York City on Christopher Street Gay Liberation Day, 1971. ]

He is not alone. Many gay people have expressed dismay at the metamorphosis of Pride and feel that it no longer represents them. This can be confusing for those who have not been paying attention to its ongoing political evolution, but there is a very good reason why groups of gay men and lesbians are now holding alternative Pride rallies this year. In August 2022, police insisted that lesbians leave a Pride parade because their banners, proclaiming that ‘lesbians don’t like penises’ and ‘trans activism erases lesbians’, were causing consternation. When gay people are being escorted away from Pride marches by the police, we can safely say that the movement has fallen.

Some might argue that the LGBTQIA+ explosion is an example of what happens when liberalism goes unchecked, that it is the natural consequence of an excess of tolerance and the rise of identity politics. Yet while identity politics in its current intersectional form has proven to be deeply illiberal and regressive, there have been sound reasons throughout history for people with shared characteristics to organise and resist. Unlike the various campaigns for imaginary victimhood that dominate today’s ‘social justice’ causes, being openly gay in the 1970s came at a huge cost. At the time of the first Pride parade, every state in the US with the exception of Illinois criminalised gay sex. In services and employment, discrimination against gay people was permitted, and even most progressives assumed that homosexuality was a mental illness. This is a world away from the exaggerated or fabricated grievances of the diversity, equity and inclusion industry today.

Now that gay people have complete equal rights under the law, the protest element of Pride has been appropriated by those with an apparent craving for oppression. Asexual activists, for instance, have taken centre stage at certain Pride events, even though nobody in the history of humankind has ever been burned at the stake for not wanting to have sex. It isn’t the case that those who identify as asexual are facing discrimination; it’s that nobody cares about what they don’t get up to in the bedroom. But of course, for those of a narcissistic temperament, there can be nothing more devastating than being ignored.

[ Furries march on Congress Street during the annual Pride Portland parade, 2017. ]

Many of those who call themselves ‘nonbinary’ are similarly vocal, but there is no serious comparison to be made between the historical persecution of homosexuals and experiencing some pushback when you demand that others refer to you as ‘they’ or ‘them’. Coming out as gay in 1970 increased the risk of being violently assaulted; coming out as ‘nonbinary’ today only increases one’s chances of being employed at the BBC.

Of course, all of this must be symptomatic of the developing cult of victimhood in the Western world. Ironically, there is now power in being the victim. Those who claim to be ‘marginalised’ are able to get people fired, drive them from public life, and harass and bully them in the name of ‘progress’. Who would have thought there was so much clout in being oppressed?

Far from being a collective gesture of unity, Pride is now widely interpreted as a celebration of homophobia. This is because it has become infected with gender ideology, which seeks to eliminate gay people from their own history. Although trans-identified individuals were rarely seen at activist meetings and events in the early decades of the gay movement, revisionists are now insisting that gay people owe their rights to the hard work of trans campaigners. We are told that a black trans woman, Marsha P Johnson, was the key figure at the Stonewall riots. This is wrong on many counts. The riots were overwhelmingly dominated by young gay men. Although Johnson took part in the demonstrations, he wasn’t present when the rioting began. Most significantly, by his own admission, he was a transvestite who didn’t identify as female.

Fred Sargeant has been much vilified for exposing the truth of what took place in these early years of the gay rights’ movement, and he is now a thorn in the side of activists whose worldview depends on a narrative that runs contrary to the truth. Recently he posted a link to the Digital Transgender Archive on the Third International Conference on Transgender Law and Employment Policy, which explicitly outlines how gay and trans movements in the 20th century were completely separate. The conflation of the LGB and T is an invention as recent as 2015. As the document explains, while the gay-rights movement in the US began in the 1920s, ‘the existence of a transgendered community that seeks reforms did not come into existence until the 1990s’.

The historical revisionism doesn’t end at Stonewall. Activists have attempted to claim that certain gay historical figures were mistaking their true trans identity for homosexuality. Just as Mormon priests have been known to baptise the dead and thereby convert them unwillingly to their cause, trans activists have been busy harvesting the annals of history for potential recruits. Those falsely claimed as trans include George Eliot, Dr James Barry, Radclyffe Hall and Joan of Arc. People who were gay and gender nonconforming are particularly vulnerable to this kind of retrospective ‘transing’. It’s very convenient for activists that the dead can’t complain.

While many trans campaigners consider themselves supportive of gay rights, overt homophobia is nonetheless often tolerated and encouraged within their circles. There are innumerable examples online of trans activists claiming that homosexuality is a form of transphobia and that only bigots have ‘genital preferences’. ‘If you’re a cis gay man’, writes one, ‘and your sexuality revolves around you not liking female genitalia I hope you die and I will spit on your grave’. A video recently went viral featuring an activist explaining to gay men why they should transition to female and that ‘maybe being gay is an outdated concept’. An online influencer called Davey Wavey uploaded his attempt at gay conversion therapy in a video entitled ‘How To Eat Pussy – For Gay Men’. One can imagine it being shown to young men at an evangelical Christian retreat for those who wish to find a ‘cure’ for their immoral urges.

This isn’t simply a case of a handful of lunatics on the fringe – this idea has also been normalised in mainstream gay culture. Australia’s Human Rights Commission prohibits lesbians from holding female-only events on the grounds that it discriminates against men who identify as female. Sall Grover, the founder of women’s app Giggle, is currently in a legal battle in Australia because she refused to allow a man to join. Stonewall has even redefined ‘homosexuality’ on its website as ‘same-gender attracted’. Its former CEO, Nancy Kelley, once suggested that women who don’t wish to date trans people are ‘sexual racists’. No, Nancy, they’re just gay.

We have seen all this before. In the 1980s, it was a common trope for gay men to be told that they ‘just haven’t found the right girl yet’ and to suggest to lesbians that they ‘just need the right dick’. The rights of homosexuals depend upon a recognition that a minority of people are attracted to their own sex. Once sex is eliminated from the equation, gay rights are no longer tenable.

The most obvious example of how gay rights have been threatened by trans ideology is that young gay people are disproportionately at risk of surgical ‘correction’. Given that between 80 and 90 per cent of adolescents referred to the NHS Tavistock Clinic were orientated towards their own sex, it is clear that in many cases homosexuality was being treated as gender dysphoria. I am usually mistrustful of accusations of various ‘phobias’ which can be used as a rhetorical technique to discourage disagreement. But if medicalising people for being same-sex attracted doesn’t qualify as homophobic, I’m not sure that anything does.

And so Pride and its accoutrements have come to represent an ideology that seeks not only to erase the foundations of gay rights, but also to re-conceptualise same-sex attraction as a condition that requires medical treatment. When police officers decorate their cars with the Pride colours, when NHS workers display the rainbow lanyard, when schools decorate their halls with bunting in solidarity, they are almost certainly doing so with the noble intention of promoting equal rights. But they are inadvertently promoting a movement whose end goal is the eradication of homosexuality.

This is not to deny that the ‘Progress Pride’ flag and all it represents have been embraced by many gay people. It is clearly the case that a majority have not realised the extent to which the flag has been hijacked for a cause that actively works against their interests. The situation has hardly been helped by prominent celebrities, often now referred to as ‘Vichy gays’, who have cheered on this sinister development. Homosexuals are not immune to the condition of useful idiocy.

Given that Pride has become so divisive, and given that so many lesbians, bisexuals and gay men now consider it to be an essentially hostile enterprise, it would be prudent for corporations and government bodies to stop pretending that there is a consensus on this issue. Ignorance is no longer an excuse. By flying the ‘Progress Pride’ flag, they are taking a side in a highly contentious cultural debate, one that alienates as many gay people as it attracts. Those who are serious about gay rights need to distance themselves from Pride once and for all.

==

When the demand for 'oppression' outstrips the supply.

Time to resist again.

[thefrogdalorian]

The Best of Both Worlds: Chapter Twelve

Din Djarin x F!Reader Modern!AU

❁ Series Masterlist ❁ My Masterlist ❁ Read on AO3 ❁

Summary: When filming overruns and conspires to keep Din from the fun weekend he planned for you, he agonises over his decision. Fortunately, he manages to salvage the weekend, even after a calamity involving a rowboat...

Word Count: 13k ❁ Rating: Teen ❁ Content Warnings: Alcohol consumption, suggestive language. ❁ Author's Note: This is a very long one but I regret nothing, and I just reached 100k for this fic! Quite a milestone and I still feel nowhere near done, really. I get slightly carried away writing these two but I cannot resist. They're so cute, and writing their love fills me with so much joy! Thanks to @decembermidnight for being my beta. I appreciate your help amo!

12. The Calm [Din's POV]

Din tapped his brown boot anxiously against the carpeted floor of his room at the studios. He watched helplessly as the minutes ticked by on the large white clock that hung over the door, powerless to do anything but sit there as the original time he had arranged to meet you ticked by. The new time he had set came and went. Then, the time after that, too. 

The Friday evening that Din had planned and the one which was unfolding before him were worlds apart from what he had originally intended.

 First, Din planned to meet you after work and take you to the hotel he had booked. In a break from tradition, this time he had made the reservation under his name. Din had taken the precaution to avoid a repeat of the situation when a bottle of champagne had been delivered with Jim’s name emblazoned across it. After that, Din had planned an entire weekend of fun for the two of you. There would be some sightseeing and good food enjoyed by both of you. It would be the break both of you needed.

Din had even taken the luxurious step of booking a second suite for Grogu and Kuiil so that the two of you could enjoy some privacy in your room. After checking in, if you two could keep your hands off each other long enough to head out, Din had planned to take you for dinner. It was nowhere too pretentious but just something to help you wind down after a difficult week with some good food. Then he had booked a tour of London for the following day for him and Grogu and you, before an evening in the spa. Din hoped that it would be the exact treat you needed, given how hectic you had told him work was. Alas, it seemed that the universe had other ideas.

Now, Din was trapped at the studios, while you had finished work with no one to greet you. Din felt terrible. He knew how much you had been looking forward to seeing him. Even though it was far beyond his control, he still felt guilty. Din hated when plans were not kept to and schedules not followed. The uncertainty was by far the most distressing part of it all.

Din’s foul mood was not helped by the fact that it had been a particularly stressful day on set. One of those days when nothing was going smoothly and every shot seemed to be wrong. The most frustrating thing was that it was not one individual’s fault. Din Djarin was not the kind of man to lash out at people, his fury simmered deep below the surface. Yet, at least if there was someone for him to silently fume at, it may have distracted his agitated mind from the rage that bubbled within him.

The problems on set were not caused by a case of incompetence, of people not doing their jobs properly. The scenes were taking much longer to film than expected due to the intricate set. With so many components, it took so long to rearrange between takes and  the cast and crew had to do a lot of waiting around. After each take, involving several stunts as Mando was tasked with fighting off a horde of enemies, the entire set was practically destroyed. It was a thoroughly frustrating process for all involved.

The hours that Din was required to be present on set had kept extending further throughout the day and now they were eating into precious time with you, a thoroughly unacceptable outcome. 

While Din was frustrated that he was letting you down, he was downright devastated about the impact such a turn of events was surely having on Grogu. Din knew that his son was safe and being cared for at home with Kuiil, which was a relief. Yet, the separation anxiety that he felt when he was away from his boy was something that he had never managed to get comfortable with. Being away from Grogu caused Din to feel tremendously guilty 

The only small comfort came from knowing that Grogu was with Kuiil, there was no one else – bar you, perhaps – that Din would trust more with his son.

Din was also relieved to know, courtesy of a picture you had sent him showing you in the hot tub, that you had successfully checked into the rooms at the hotel that he had booked. It was nice to know that the amenities weren’t going to waste, at least.

Yet, the selfie had caused Din further anguish, in a very different sense. Seeing the warm expanse of your skin, tantalisingly bare in the selfie, which revealed enough without being downright explicit, was causing his frustration levels to grow. How unfair that he was stuck here, while you looked so beautiful and all alone in that suite. Din was just grateful for how understanding and patient you were with him. Still, it didn’t give him bountiful new reserves of patience.

Din was irritable and lonely. The extended hours were miserable when he couldn’t even hang around with the rest of the cast without constantly fearing that his cover was to be blown. Peli was not required for this episode and Din missed his best friend. Din was alone with his thoughts as he frantically paced his room, waiting for a runner to fetch him when things were set up for the next take.

The knock on the door however does not herald the news that Din was hoping for, as an apologetic crew member informs Din that they were calling it a night and everyone would be required to return to set the following morning. Despite how frustrated he is, Din does not take it out on the young man who appears incredibly apologetic at the inconvenience. He knew that the crew member must have pulled the short straw to have to confront a fully armoured Mandalorian with such news.

As Din finally took a seat in the car that would drive him the short distance to his home, he was tired and irritated. Although he was careful not to take it out on the driver, Din is frustrated that he had spent hours longer away from Grogu than he had wanted, that he was forced into cancelled plans with you and even after both of those things, he had been told that he would have to return the following day. Not having anyone to blame it made it even worse. There was no one to silently seethe at and curse for their incompetence.

When Din eventually returned to his cottage it was almost midnight. After relieving Kuiil of his duties, Din wasted no time and immediately headed upstairs to his son’s room. Despite the old man’s reassurances that Grogu had gone to sleep without a hitch, Din knew that he would not be able to sleep without seeing that his boy was okay. It was a force of habit, a nervous question that needed answering. 

Fortunately, when Din peeked around the doorframe, he was greeted with the soothing sight of his son sleeping peacefully. Grogu’s breaths were even, indicating that he was fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the turmoil that his father was experiencing. Din could not resist making sure that Grogu was tucked in and comfortable, kissing his son’s head carefully before he headed for a few fitful hours of rest himself.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

Despite beginning the morning in as optimistic a mood as he could muster, Din soon discovered that the next day on set would run no smoother than the last. 

He had returned to set what felt like only minutes after he had left. The cast and crew were being pushed to their limits of endurance, hardly having any rest between arduous days of filming. Unfortunately, such a demanding schedule was necessary due to the tight deadline that was looming over them from the executives who were near-unanimously despised by practically everyone on set.

The fact that their well-being was shunned in favour of satisfying goals and targets set mostly by people who had never stepped foot on a set in their entire lives was a fact that irritated Din. It made him rue the day he had ever decided to work for such a mega-corporation. But he had. He was here now. That fact could not be helped. 

Fortunately, Din believed that the weekend was still salvageable. If the shoot was concluded in the middle of the afternoon, there would still be time for him to join you for a portion of the tour and then dinner. He thought it was pointless to ruin Grogu and Kuiil’s weekend too, so the two of them had left to join you that morning. Din was relieved to know that you were not completely alone. The selfie you had sent him confirming their arrival had certainly buoyed Din’s spirits.

After lunch, Din returned to the set, optimistic that the stars would align and he would be able to join you as quickly as he wanted to. 

Unfortunately, those hopes were soon scuppered. The shoot was just not moving as quickly as it should have been. With the way things were progressing, there was no way Din would be able to make it to the hotel before the evening. 

With his tail between his legs after the latest disastrous take, Din retreated to his room. Once he had secured the door, he pulled his phone out to call you, his heart aching as he did so.

“Hi, Sunflower,” Din said, as soon as you answered.

“Hi, Din,” you cheerily responded.

Din felt terrible at the excitement that was palpable in your voice. After all, he had texted you that morning and said that he would ring you when he had news. Judging by the tone of your voice, you assumed it was good news. Unfortunately, you were about to be bitterly disappointed. Din braced himself for the news he had to impart to you.

“I’m so sorry about this but it looks like I’m going to be held up at work even longer than I was hoping. Looks like I might be able to join you at around eight if things go well, but no guarantees. I hate to let you down,” Din sighed, his voice cracking with guilt.

The heavy sigh Din heard down the phone made him feel even more anguished. He knew that you hoped just as much as he did that things would go differently today. Instead here he was, letting you down again.

“It’s okay, Din,” you said quietly, “I know it isn’t your fault. It seems like your job is unpredictable, I know you would be with me if you could be.”

“Thank you for being so understanding,” Din said, gratefully.

“Don’t worry, honey. I understand. Work is work, these things happen,” you said sympathetically.

Din knew you didn’t understand, that was the entire problem. It made him feel so much worse about the entire situation. He knew that if he had just been honest and told you the truth that day when he had planned to, there was a chance you could have journeyed to his cottage to await his return with Grogu. Instead, due to Din’s cowardice, there you both were; miserable and missing each other when you were both in the same city. It was all so needlessly painful.

Still, Din knew that you had Kuiil and Grogu with you at least. It went some way to soothing his anguish.

“Besides, I have Grogu and Kuiil here for company now,” you added brightly, “We’re heading out on a tour shortly.”

“Sounds wonderful, Sunflower,” Din smiled, “I wish I could join you.”

“I wish you could too, Din,” you sighed. “I can’t wait to see you. I really hope you can be here tonight, I was so lonely in this big hot tub. It’s far too big for one person,” you add flirtatiously.

“Ugh, don’t, Sunflower,” Din murmured warningly. “If it was under my control I’d be there in an instant,” Din rasped, his voice suddenly husky with want.

“I know you would be, Din. We’ll be together soon,” you reassured him. With your sweet voice reassuring him, Din almost dares to believe it himself. 

Unfortunately, before his conversation with you can continue in any more optimistic terms, there is a knock at the door. Duty calls as Mando is required on set.

“Got to go, a colleague is calling me. I’ll see you soon, Sunflower,” Din said, repeating your reassuring words to you, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Din. Bye,” you reply.

Din sat there for a few seconds after hanging up. While he still felt awful about letting you down, he would never tire of hearing you tell him that you loved him. It went some way to soothing his anguished state of mind. Yet there was another part of him that felt intensely guilty for his failure, to be honest with you. 

Despite your words suggesting otherwise, the pain in your voice as you reassured him that it was fine made Din feel awful. Even worse than that was the bright way you had reassured him that you understood how unpredictable his job could be. Your innocence broke his heart. 

Even more so because Din knew how much you had been looking forward to a little getaway with him. You had texted him many times that week, complaining about how stressful work was for you. It seemed that the final rush before the summer holidays ended had brought all kinds of families and their children to the museums. Din had consoled you as you complained to him about how you were expected to provide information and be personable to them all, despite how difficult they could sometimes be. It sounded far more draining than his job. Although doing stunts for a Hollywood production was physically demanding and required a lot of fitness, Din did not have to be personable. He could hide his face. Those two things were enormously important for him. If he had to face the world as you did, he was sure that he would not last a day. 

Din replaced his helmet and headed back out onto the set. He pushed his shoulders back and transformed into a stoic Mandalorian warrior, rather than the anxious, frustrated man he was beneath all of the beskar… 

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

It was almost entirely dark by the time Din was finally heading towards central London. Towards you.

Knowing that it would not be long until the two of you were reunited was causing little bubbles of excitement to spread throughout Din’s stomach. He could not wait to spend what remained of the weekend alongside you and was practically giddy with excitement. 

Of course, Din enjoyed the domestic bliss whenever you visited his cottage in Nevarro. It was homely and comfortable. Yet he loved the thought of booking a luxurious room for the pair of you in one of the most exclusive hotels in London just as much. When Din had initially moved to London, he felt self-conscious and uneasy that such luxuries were at his disposal. However, since he had started dating you, he had become more grateful for such extravagances.

Din had always relished being a provider. Whether that be for his covert of Mandalorians or his son. Now he had someone else to provide for: his Sunflower. 

He loved to take care of you at the weekend, after a long week of work. It went some way to alleviating the guilt that he felt at being paid many times more than your salary to do something that was, on the surface, a lot less demanding than the job you did. 

Although the stunts Din was required to perform could be physically demanding on occasion, it was nothing compared to some of the arduous jobs he had had in the real world. It was all scripted and risks were assessed before the cameras ever began rolling. Since he had started his role as The Mandalorian, Din had been pampered in a way that was unusual to him, unfamiliar. Din had never been luxuriated in his entire life. It took some getting used to, to know that there were so many things such as the opulent hotel he had booked for the two of you that was available to him on only a moment’s notice. 

It was an enormous contrast from the simple, solitary existence he had led for most of his life. Yet Din was becoming more used to this life and the luxuries that were on offer to him. As the hotel came into view through the window, Din found himself looking forward to a relaxing weekend there as much as he was looking forward to seeing you again. 

All of the amenities were tantalising, especially when Din was so exhausted. He had been looking forward to this break all week, knowing that it would provide the rest and recuperation he so badly needed. The endless hours on set had proved incredibly stressful, Not just due to the scenes he was filming and the stunts he was required to do, but also the fact he had to be separated from Grogu for so many hours per day. So Din needed this break just as much as badly as he knew you did. He needed the time with his son and the opportunity to recuperate after filming for the final episode had been so intense. The stunts and physical acting were taking it out of him, though Din would certainly prefer that to the numerous children that he knew you had to deal with every week. 

He couldn’t wait to take advantage of the spa and room service. Din knew that if you wanted to, neither of you would have to move a muscle for the entire weekend. Well, apart from the muscles Din knew that he would use in pursuit of your pleasure. 

It would be utterly blissful, especially because Grogu and Kuiil would have their own space while Din enjoyed your company in the privacy of your room. Staying in this hotel was the escape from real life that Din relished. It was something that he did not feel anywhere else. Whenever you visited his cottage out in the country the times spent together were a blissful sense of domesticity that Din did not feel like he deserved. Still, it was preferable to spending time in your flat, a place where Din had never felt comfortable. Not due to its size or simplicity but because of the poster that adorned the walls. 

So, to be granted an opportunity to escape your normal lives and just enjoy each other’s company here was a luxury that Din was immensely grateful for.

After exiting the car, Din practically sprinted through the hotel towards you. He could not wait to be back with you again. Gone were the times when he would stress about exposing his identity when he gave his name at check-in. You were waiting for him upstairs.

Now, nothing was stopping Din from being back with you again once again. 

He smiled at the thought that he was only moments away from seeing you again and taking you in his arms. It would have been even sooner if the elevator would hurry up and arrive. Din tapped his foot frustratedly on the polished marble floor as he waited for it to arrive in the lobby with a ding.

When it finally did, he did not waste a second before he hastily entered and pressed the number of the floor you were staying in. His heart thundered as he made his way through the corridor, towards your room. Din feared it might well beat out of his chest as he stood there after rapping on the dark wooden door, waiting for you to answer.

Thankfully, you got the door pretty rapidly. When it finally swung open, there were a few seconds where Din stood unmoving, staring at you with his mouth agape in disbelief that you were finally back together. It was an expression that was mirrored on your face.

Then, he finally broke free of his trance and stepped forward to envelop you in a tight hug. Din could barely believe that you were in his arms again. He resented the fact that it had taken so long for you to be reunited. All the days of pain faded away, however, as Din gathered you close to him. He struggled to find words to express his emotions.

Fortunately, you spoke first.

“I missed you so much,” you whispered into Din’s shoulder, where you had tucked your head into the crook of his neck. He smiled as he felt your voice reverberating there, a reminder that this was real. 

“I’m here now, Sunflower,” Din replied, his deep voice muffled into your hair, “I’m so sorry it took me so long.”

At that, you pulled away. Din saw how much love was there in your eyes that it floored him all over again. He wasn’t sure how he ever found someone to love him so much. All he knew was that your presence in his life had made him painfully aware of the fact that he had been missing something for so long. 

He felt as though he had been sleepwalking through life. Existing rather than living, in the weeks it had been since he last saw you. Now you were back together, that difference was acutely obvious to him. Din closed the distance and claimed your lips with his, attempting to convey what he could not yet find with his words. He roamed his hands across the warm expanse of your back, before grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him.

There was no doubt that things would have escalated further, were it not for the sudden presence of a certain child.

Din first heard Kuiil shouting at Grogu to come back and pulled away from you regretfully. Any feelings of disappointment were soon eclipsed by the relief he felt to once again be back with his son. 

It had not even been an entire day since Din had parted ways with Grogu, but he missed his boy so much that he was so relieved to be back with him. The irrational fear that Grogu would think he was abandoning him had been gnawing at him all day. Coupled with the frustration of being stuck behind at the studios, it was an unpleasant combination.

Thankfully, Grogu seemed to be as cheerful as ever. He appeared to be in good spirits, which was unsurprising after the day he had spent with his two favourite people. 

Din picked his son up and walked over to the sofa, placing him on his lap and doting on the little boy whom he had missed so much.

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Although Din had every intention of quickly leaving the hotel again, after dumping his belongings and making sure that Grogu was settled, his plans soon fell by the wayside. Din had intended to take you out for a meal after the tour he had planned for you as part. Nothing fancy, but it was a Saturday night and he wanted to make the occasion feel special. 

However, after Din exited the bathroom to see you lounging on the bed, you looked so relaxed and almost sleepy in the suite, he was happy to instead spend the rest of the evening in your spacious suite.

After all, it had been such a draining week for the pair of you. You deserved a relaxing evening. So, Din’s dinner plans were soon forgotten. 

“I was planning to take you out for a nice dinner somewhere to spend some time just the two of us,” Din explained, “But I was thinking, since Kuiil is here and the food here in the hotel is so incredible… how about we just order room service?”

The way your eyes lit up proved to Din that it was a wise decision. The way you leapt off the bed and threw your arms around him and voiced your agreement only confirmed that. You seemed instantly relieved that Din was thinking along the same lines as you. Din wanted to show you again that there was never any pressure between the two of you to the expectations of what constitutes a ‘proper’ date. It was something that had defined your relationship ever since that evening when Din had tried to take you out to a fancy restaurant and instead, both of you had ended up in the noodle shop. Merely spending time with you was all Din needed to feel happy. Any time with you was incredibly precious to him.

After you and Din had finally made up your minds and ordered something from the extensive room service menu, Din went to check how Kuiil and Grogu were and inform them of his plans. He wanted to give you some space while you changed into some more comfortable clothes, but he was also eager to check on how Grogu was.

Din could not help but feel guilty for leaving Grogu for much of the day and how he would again tonight, even though he knew the boy was happy with the old man and Din would only be next door. Kuiil was as close to family as Grogu and Din had. A kindly old grandfather figure that they could always depend on for comfort and companionship. Din felt a lump in his throat as he hovered at the door, watching the two of them interact. 

Kuiil had Grogu sitting on his lap, facing him. The old man was regaling him with tales from his childhood in his distinctive gruff voice. Watching the pair of them gave Din a familiar sensation of how he felt whenever he saw you interact with Grogu. The warm, tight feeling in his chest at the achingly familiality of it. 

Family was a difficult subject for Din Djarin. 

There was the family Din had lost when he was young and had never truly got to know. There was the family he had found with Mandalorians and the golden-haired woman who was the leader of his tribe. Then, of course, there was the little boy whom he had been unable to resist when he had seen him bundled beneath that threadbare blanket in the dismal attic. 

Din had decided to rescue Grogu instinctively. Without much thought or planning, which was unlike a man who ordinarily prided himself on his meticulousness. 

The abruptness of such a life-altering decision meant that Din sometimes doubted whether he was the right person to take care of Grogu, or whether Grogu deserved someone better. Din frequently felt woefully ill-equipped to deal with a toddler, especially one with as many needs as Grogu.

His love for the little boy won out every time. 

Their connection was too great for Din to ever give up. He knew that he was not a perfect father, but he was determined to be the best one he possibly could be.

As he hovered in the doorway and took a brief moment to appreciate the fruits of his labour, and Kuiil’s labour, reflecting on how much progress Grogu had made, Din felt humbled by how precious fatherhood was.

When Grogu noticed his father standing there watching him, his big brown eyes lighting up when he laid eyes on the man who had saved him, Din’s chest swelled with pride. 

It was these precious moments that made Din realise that he could do it; he was a capable father to Grogu. 

He thought back to the first days onset, when he had arrived there terrified with his boy in tow. How Peli would scold him, telling him that he had an awful lot to learn about raising a young one after she caught Din not warming Grogu's baby food properly. The curly-haired woman had not been impressed. Din had been mortified. He hadn’t expected to see her just storm into his trailer like that. Those days seemed like distant memories now, but they were an important part of what had made Din the attentive father he eventually became.

Finally, Din moved from the doorway and joined Kuiil on the couch. He listened intently to the end of the story that the elderly man was telling his son in his characteristic breathy tone. Din had always admired the elderly man for the way he spoke to Grogu as though he were a real person, not just a cute baby. 

“Everything okay, Mr Djarin?” Kuiil asked and Din shook his head slightly at the old man’s insistence on referring to him by a title. 

“We’ve decided to stay here for dinner. I ordered something for Grogu and yourself and I thought we could eat together?” Din asked.

“Thank you, that sounds wonderful,” Kuiil smiled appreciatively. “I know this one has had a long day. I should imagine he'll soon go to sleep after he’s eaten and bathed.”

“Wonderful,” Din nodded.

Before the conversation could continue any further, the sound of the door opening tore Din’s attention away from Kuiil and his son. 

Din was mesmerised by the sight of you, his brown eyes instantly brightening at the sight of you as you stepped through the door. Even though you were wearing something far less formal than you would have been wearing had you ventured out for dinner together, you were no less beautiful to Din.

You shuffled in wearing sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. Even with your body hidden by your comfortable clothes, Din was still on fire for you. Your outfit was not necessarily befitting such opulent surroundings. Then again, Din would not have picked this hotel out for himself. It was still a shock to his system to be surrounded by such an embarrassment of riches. 

Din was distracted from checking you out by a knock at the door. Dinner had arrived.

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Contrary to Kuiil’s hypothesis, Grogu had not immediately been ready to go down to sleep after dinner. It required a lot of attention from three weary adults and plenty of playtime before the mischievous boy was finally content to sleep. 

With Grogu sound asleep and Kuiil eager to get some rest of his own, Din thought it was finally time for the two of you to retire to your quarters. It was, after all, a considerable amount of time since the last time the two of you had spent some quality time together. Now Din knew that Grogu was happy and settled, after receiving more than enough attention from the three adults whom he loved very much, he was content to leave his boy behind. Din knew that he would be there the second Grogu woke up the following morning.

Although it was tempting to take advantage of the spacious bed with its luxurious sheets, Din was determined to spend some quality time with you. He suggested watching something on the sizable flatscreen TV together while cuddling on the couch of course. Spending time with you and feeling your body on his was an intoxicating thought for Din. That closeness and companionship was something he had missed as much as the sex.

So, while you sprawled on the enormous sofa, Din hovered around by the minibar, fixing the pair of you something to drink. Din was content to leave you flicking through the various channels for something to watch. It reminded him of the time he had visited your flat when you cooked dinner for him and the two of you could not decide what to watch, despite the number of titles. This time, you were in control. He did not doubt that you would pick out something good. Or if you did not, he was certain that the pair of you would find other ways to amuse yourselves…

As he glanced up towards the screen, however, Din felt his stomach drop as you hovered over the streaming platform that The Mandalorian was on. He shook his head, hands suddenly trembling as he took the glass bottles in his hands. There was no way that he could watch the show with you. He hadn’t even seen it himself, too embarrassed to watch himself on screen.

“Looks like this hotel has a pretty nice collection of streaming services. Why don’t we watch my favourite show?” you said enthusiastically as you opened the app.

“What’s that?” Din replied, jokingly feigning ignorance. Hoping that you would not detect the terror that had suddenly settled in the pit of his stomach. 

“You know what my favourite show is!” you exclaimed, thoroughly offended.

“Oh that Star Trek one, right?” Din replied, ducking as you threw a cushion across the room at him. 

“Din!” you exclaimed.

“What, Sunflower?” Din replied, a cocky smirk on his face as he padded across the room and set your drinks down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. 

Although he may not get all the nerdy references, by confusing your favourite franchise with Star Trek, Din Djarin knew exactly what he had done. He felt lighter already. Laughing like that and knowing exactly how to push your buttons made Din feel as though everything was completely normal. The burden of the secret was temporarily lifted.

When he joked with you like this, it was so easy for Din to pretend that the jokes he was telling about the show were like any other people in a relationship. Teasing banter. It was a sense of normality. But the reality was that Din used such jokes to deflect from the truth. 

He was the man behind your favourite character from your favourite TV show. No amount of jokes could hide that fact.

As Din padded across the room to fetch some cushions and blankets to snuggle up on the spacious couch, the guilt felt as though it was eating him up inside. He struggled to contain his emotions. Din knew that he was doing a terrible thing by lying to you. He was well aware that you would probably be disappointed when you discovered the truth.

Yet, Din also knew that the connection the two of you had was genuine. It had nothing to do with the character he portrayed, despite the way he had first encountered you. After that day at the convention, Din knew that he would have fallen for you regardless. Your brain and wits had stood out to him at the museum tour. Not to mention the way you had bonded with Grogu. 

Anyone who was going to capture Din Djarin’s heart was going to have to realise that he and Grogu were a package deal. You had done that effortlessly.

When he finally sat next to you on the couch, threw a blanket over you and drew you into his side, all of that anguish was forgotten. Din felt your warmth all around him, the safety and security he drew from your touch whenever he was close to you. It was enough to make him forget the secret he was hiding from you. 

With your head on his chest and your legs kicked up on the sofa as you cuddled up together and a terrible movie starting to play on Netflix, it was effortless to forget everything else beyond the here and now. 

It was easy for Din to pretend that everything about how the two of you had met was normal. That there was no devastating secret lingering over you. That it was love and fate, rather than a combination of his job and your love for the show he starred in, which had initially caused your paths to cross. 

Din wished that time would freeze and he would always be as happy as he was together with you in that suite. Curled up with his Sunflower, as you watched a terrible movie together. 

Yet Din Djarin was a pragmatic man. Perhaps because of everything he had been through in his life. He realised, with a sickening, sinking feeling spreading in his stomach, that this happiness was fleeting…

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That sinking feeling was a distant memory the following day, however. Din was strolling hand in hand with you through Hyde Park in London. Grogu was toddling alongside you, on a toddler lead. It was a beautiful, sunny day. You were both enjoying each other’s company, the anguish that the pair of you had felt for most of the weekend at being separated beyond circumstances that were out of your control was long forgotten. The quality time with each other was more than making up for lost opportunities. Din knew that it had been a more limited weekend than he had hoped, but he was still glad to spend time with you.

It was a warm, sunny day in the park. Unseasonably beautiful for mid-September. It was probably one of the last sunny days before the leaves would turn brown and copper and a colder breeze would be present in the air. So, naturally, most of the population had seemingly had the same idea as the one suggested to Din by you that morning, as you ate breakfast in the suite: to visit Hyde Park. 

Despite the crowds, it was a spacious park, with plenty of room for all of you. Kuiil had been left at a cafe near the entrance, insisting that he was too old to join the rest of you, despite Din’s insistence that he would be more than welcome to join. Still, Din did not push him too hard. The kindly old soul had more than earned his pay this weekend. 

Din squeezed your hand in his, enjoying the warm, comforting reminder of your presence as he strolled along at your side. He kept stealing glances at you, making sure that you were enjoying yourself.

Your eyes were covered by your sunglasses, but the small smile you wore near-permanently on your face proved to him that you were having as much fun as he hoped you were. 

Din had been watching you extra closely this weekend. He always did, but he wanted to make sure that the time spent apart had not affected you. He knew how upset you had been, he was anxious to ensure that he had made up for the upsetting start to your weekend. Din found that his eyes were drawn to you. He could not get enough of looking at you. There was something palpably electric about the way the two of you would steal glances at the other. 

The three of you stopped for an ice cream from a van sitting on benches as you licked the refreshing sweet treats. Grogu, naturally, ended up with far more ice cream around his mouth than actually in it. The contented coos of the little boy proved that he was enjoying himself, at the very least. Even though he had also spilt ice cream over his clothes. 

The only part of him that was stain-free was his green bucket hat. The brown shirt with green shorts that he had selected for himself had fallen victim to his ice cream exploits. Green and brown was his favourite colour combination and Din had enjoyed the way you had gushed at the sight of him that morning. 

After finishing your ice creams, you suggested that the three of you take a walk towards the water’s edge of the lake which was one of the main features of the park. At first, Din’s eyes were drawn towards the swans and ducks that were splashing around in the water there, as well as the people participating in various watersports and making their way across the calm, blue water’s surface on boats. He could have watched them all day, but his attention was taken away from them by the sound of your voice calling out to him.

“Din! Look!” you exclaimed enthusiastically, “There are boats we can hire!” you gasped as you turned to face him and pointed towards a boathouse with a few small rowboats tied up on the jetty in its vicinity which protruded into the water. “Can we hire one, please?”

Din released a sigh that was usually reserved for Grogu, an exasperated tired noise that ordinarily came out when his toddler was troubling him. But the childlike wonderment in your voice and face was too endearing for him to refuse. When you looked at him like that, Din knew he would have done anything for you. 

The prospect of hiring a rowboat was something that Din would never have done on his own. With you, hiring a boat at the park suddenly seemed like an idea that he could at least entertain the prospect of. Din knew this was probably going to end in tears somehow, but he couldn’t resist indulging you and Grogu. Not when the pair of you looked at him with wide, expectant eyes. Waiting for him to give permission.

“Fine,” Din sighed, leaning his weight onto one leg and folding his arms in a way that was so characteristic of him.

It was a careless mannerism, one that was so distinctively Din Djarin. It was also unmistakably Mando. A gesture he often employed on the show, was to strike fear into the hearts of his enemies with just a lean and a sigh. 

Din felt his blood run cold as he noticed the way that you stared at him for a beat longer than was usual. There was a terrible few seconds of silence where he was terrified that a glimmer of recognition had flickered in your eyes.

Fortunately, you soon snapped out of it. Shaking your head you took Grogu’s hand and led him towards the boathouse so you could figure out how to hire the boats. 

When you turned your back, Din shut his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. Without even realising it, he had slipped into one of his mannerisms that he had been so desperate to hide from you. The way he had stood and sighed was something that Mando would do. And he was certain that you had connected those dots. 

Fortunately, you had hurried off before he had to lie to you, again. With his breathing back under control, Din paced over to the boathouse to catch up. You and Grogu were already at the desk, selecting the boat that you wished to hire. 

After exchanging funds and a brief safety talk, with matching yellow life jackets to boot, the three of you were all set for your adventure in a rowboat. Din knew as he climbed into the boat that this was probably going to be a bad idea. Despite his reservations and hesitation and the grumpy dad facade that he was putting on, he was secretly intrigued by what this was going to entail. 

“Have you ever done this before, Din?” you asked, as though you could sense his trepidation. 

“No,” Din huffed, “Never.”

Din watched you shake your head at him with a smile on your face. He was confused by your apparent amusement, wondering what was so funny. Before you could continue teasing him, Din handed Grogu – who was wearing an adorable little yellow life jacket of his own – to you, and ungracefully clambered aboard the wobbly boat behind you.

As Din took a seat on shaky legs, you seemed intent to continue teasing him:

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, I’m sure you’ll be great!” you said cheerfully.

“You’re not rowing with me?” Din said, aghast. It had been your idea to hire this damn boat, after all.

“Oh, there’s only one set of oars. I think you can take the reins here, honey,” you smiled.

Then you proceeded to thoroughly ignore Din’s existence and his predicament, pointing out a tree in the distance to Grogu who was babbling contentedly on your lap.

Din shook his head with a huff and grabbed the ends of the wooden oars. He began to move them with trepidation. The weight was not an issue, especially not for someone with as hulking muscles as Din. But it was difficult to find the knack for the movements. He was uncoordinated at first, the wooden boat wobbling around as Din found his rhythm. 

Din murmured a string of apologies but once he eventually got into the groove, the little boat hurtled away into the middle of the lake. Happy with the position, Din paused his movements and the boat came to a stop. With the sounds of the water sloshing as it hit the sides of the boat, a chorus of birds tweeting and Grogu’s giggles floating into the sweet, warm air… Din wondered if it was possible to feel any more content than he did at that moment. He closed his eyes and sighed in contentment, appreciating the sounds as the sun beat down on his face. 

“I wouldn’t mind having a turn rowing,” you said eventually, breaking Din out of the tranquil state he had fallen into.

“Okay,” Din agreed. 

What happened next seemed to happen in slow motion. 

First, Din watched as you placed Grogu onto the seat next to you. Second, Din stood up to allow the two of you to swap places on the two benches that were facing each other on the rowboat. Thirdly, he became acutely aware of how the motion of him taking a step towards you caused the little boat to rock as you stood up and your forces acted upon the tiny vessel. 

The sum of your forces sent you hurtling over the edge with a yelp. 

The splash which was produced when your body hit the water sent droplets of the lake all over Din and Grogu, who watched the entire thing with a scared look on their faces.

For a few, terrible seconds it seemed as though the entire world had stopped spinning on its axis as Din waited for you to reemerge from the lake. 

Once he knew that you were okay, he felt certain he was about to get the biggest scolding of his life. He leaned over the edge of the boat, calling your name. 

When you finally reemerged, hair wet and sticking to your face, Din breathed a sigh of relief. Principally, because you had survived your unplanned entrance to the water unscathed but mostly because you did not look like you wanted to murder him. A fact he was extremely grateful for. Instead of fire and fury, you were giggling breathlessly at the sensation. 

Your airy laughs were the perfect accompaniment to the rippling waters of the lake.

“I hate you, Din Djarin!” you yelled between giggles.

It was a joke, there was no malice whatsoever behind those three words. Still, Din couldn’t help but wince slightly as you said such a thing to him. There were three words he never wanted to hear you say again. 

Considering how well you were taking your impromptu dunking, Din thought he had escaped your wrath. He should have known that you would never allow him to get away with the predicament you found yourself in that easily. 

Din leaned over the side of the boat to offer his hand out to you. He knew he would have no trouble pulling you back into the boat. You gladly took his hand and Din began pulling you inside the boat.

Except, Din’s helpful gesture was not met entirely with receptiveness from you. 

It was turn for Din to let out a yelp of his own, this time as you placed all your weight on him and tugged him into the water. 

It all happened so quickly that Din struggled to process what had just happened. For a second, everything was dark and murky. And cold. So cold. 

Eventually, Din resurfaced, dramatically spitting a mouthful of water into the air and throwing daggers at you. There was darkness in those brown eyes, perhaps you would regret the day you ever pushed a Mandalorian into the water. 

Din would deal with you later.

His first concern was for Grogu, who had been left in the boat all by himself. Din wanted to make sure that his son was okay. 

Din discovered, as he pushed himself up to peer over the side that the water was incredibly shallow. He could easily touch the bottom. He felt instantly relieved once he peered over the edge of the boat and locked eyes with his son. 

Except, rather than seeing Grogu’s expressive brown eyes full of concern towards his father’s predicament, there was a rather different expression across Grogu’s face. Din instead rolled his eyes as his son sat there, giggling at the scene unfolding in front of him and clapping his chubby hands together in glee. Din rolled his eyes and turned to face you, pushing his soaked brown hair up out of his eyes and onto his forehead.

Din stood there in the water, shaking his head and laughing at you in disbelief. Here he was, this man who was usually so hesitant to push himself even slightly out of his comfort zone, in the middle of a lake after an impromptu rowboat adventure.

Din looked at you, mesmerised by the way your face was bathed in the warm glow of a sunny afternoon in the park. Your eyes were shining a different colour than usual. Din was transfixed by the sight of you, the glow that seemed to surround you. As though you were an angel, brought to life. Your shirt was wet and clinging to your body, accentuating your figure which Din loved so much.

Before he was conscious of what he was doing, he had closed the distance between you. His hands were buried in your wet hair, it felt just as he had imagined it would, all silken and wet. His lips caressed yours in a slow, gentle kiss. Something about the way the water had caused your t-shirt to get so wet that it was clinging to your body had awakened something in Din. He was kissing you here in public, without a care for any onlookers.

“Everything okay here?” an unfamiliar voice behind Din caused him to snap out of the embrace in an instant.

Din cleared his throat and turned to face the mystery intruder. It was a lifeguard in a rubber dinghy, who had seen two people enter the water and been dispatched to make sure everything was okay. The man was probably close to retirement age and looked thoroughly unimpressed by Din’s antics, causing his skin to flush in embarrassment. 

“Oh… uh, yes. Thank you,” Din stammered. Sorry, we were trying to switch places in the boat and then, this happened,” Din added with a nervous laugh.

“Well, there’s a kid in there you might want to return to,” the man in the boat observed as he nodded towards Grogu who still sat there with a grin on his face.

The blush that crept across Din’s face was unmistakable as the man in the motorised dinghy made his exit, the engine gradually becoming more and more distant. He could hardly look at you as he helped you back onto the boat, lifting you and pushing you back on there, careful not to disturb Grogu. When you eventually made it back onto the boat, you unceremoniously flopped down on the deck like a fish.

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The rest of the afternoon was spent lying on the bank next to the lake on fluffy towels. Thankfully, the boathouse had provided them to help dry you out from the soaking you had received. Din had resisted all calls on your part for him to take his shirt off so he would dry quicker. He knew it was just a cheap plea on your part to get to ogle him. He was too self-conscious to contemplate such an act. Despite the ease with which he had stepped out of his comfort zone by agreeing to a spontaneous boat excursion before, his typical shyness had returned. 

Yet, as the sun fell lower in the sky and afternoon turned to early evening, Din decided that it was probably time to begin heading home. He knew a long filming day stretched out ahead of him tomorrow. A day that he knew was going to begin early, just after dawn had broken. Likewise, he knew that you would have to work early. And your job was far more draining and demanding than his.

The three of you had spent much of the afternoon in the same position. You cuddled up on Din’s warm chest as his hands rested around your waist, while Grogu leaned into his shoulder as the little child napped, exhausted from all the excitement. Din hated to move from this position. He would have been quite content to stay here forever. 

“We should probably think about heading home soon,” Din whispered into your hair, nuzzling into the soft strands which were still slightly damp after your dip in the lake.

You nodded in agreement. Din carefully picked Grogu up and gathered him to his chest, grunting slightly as he stood up. Din noticed that you could barely meet his gaze as he offered you his hand and hauled you to your feet.

The three of you set off for the cafe where Kuiil had spent much of the day, Din once again laced his fingers through yours. 

“Would you like to get a ride back with us or would you prefer to make your way home?” Din eventually asked as you approached the gates to leave the park.

Din had noticed the way you had become gradually more withdrawn and quiet. He wasn’t sure what had caused it, but he sensed that the tension in you was probably because you wanted to leave for home. It was a Sunday afternoon, turning into an evening after all. Din knew that you had work the following morning. But then Din noticed how your bottom lip was trembling as you looked at him. He knew that your idea of a peaceful, relaxing weekend had been ruined by his job. His heart ached for the disappointment which surely still lingered. 

“Din, I don’t want to make you feel guilty. I hate to sound so clingy… but I feel like I hardly spent time with you this weekend. I thought I would see so much more of you and it’s been great to see you today… but we’ve been with Grogu pretty much the entire time and I,” you sighed, looking away from him as you attempted to compose yourself. “I miss you, Din. 

“Oh, Sunflower, I understand. Don’t worry. I think this little one is tired so he probably wants to head home but, if you want, you can come back to the cottage,” Din offered.

When he saw the way your eyes lit up, he knew he had made the right decision. 

“Perhaps we can go for a walk there and maybe have dinner together before you head home?” Din suggested.

He noticed the way that your shoulders immediately lifted. The thought of going back to work the following day without having seen as much of him as you were hoping seemed to be upsetting you deeply, Din could tell. So anything he could do to ease that pain made him instantly feel better. Din never wanted to see you upset.

“I’d love that, Din,” you smiled at him. 

Your smile was one of the features that Din loved the most. Especially when you gave him one that made your eyes crinkle. Knowing that you were feeling better soothed Din’s shaky nerves. He thanked his lucky stars that the pair of you would not end this weekend with one of you feeling upset.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

The Nevarro Arms was the most defining feature of the tiny village of Nevarro itself, aside from the huge studios, The Volume, that stood right next to it. It was where most residents of Nevarro spent their evenings, drinking and chatting with each other. 

Although they were a staple of the British countryside, pubs seemed small, intimate and terrifying to Din. 

Despite how much time he had spent in the UK and how much he was enjoying his time here, this was not the country of his birth. There were certain cultural oddities that he could not get used to, no matter how hard he tried. Pub culture was evidently one of them.

Fortunately, you were slightly more of a local than Din. So, you insisted, when you passed it at the village cross on your way to walk the path around the hill where you had infamously been caught in the rainstorm a few weeks back, that he had to at least have a pint in his local. 

“You haven’t even been to a pub since you got here?” you asked, astounded, as the two of you walked hand in hand through the tiny village of Nevarro. 

Except for The Nevarro Arms and a couple of small shops which sold basic groceries, there was nothing else really of note here. Besides The Volume, of course. 

“No,” Din replied with a smirk. He found it adorable how worked up you seemed to be getting over something as simple as never having visited a pub.

“Din! That’s ridiculous!” you said, exasperated.

“Sorry,” he shrugged, “Just didn’t appeal to me.”

“Well, we’re changing that today,” you smiled at him, “On the way back from our walk, you’ll have a pint, and you'll enjoy it!

Din was relieved to see how much you had brightened up since he had invited you here, you had been visibly upset at the prospect of leaving him. He still felt awful about the whole thing, about his work keeping him from you, but he was grateful for how patient and understanding you were with him. 

Din was transfixed by the sight of the sun setting as the two of you strolled around a dirt path, bugs buzzing as the sun set, the two of you hand in hand. You started swinging your joined hands playfully. Din giggled at the sight. He loved the zest for life that you possessed. That something as simple as just taking a stroll at sunset with him seemed to perk your spirits up and make you so playful. 

He would need every bit of those positive emotions to carry him through his first time stepping foot in his local. 

Din felt his stomach churning with nerves as the two of you entered The Nevarro Arms. It was an old building with a slightly sloped doorway, indicating its age. 

Din immediately felt like an outsider, an alien.

Part of what had prevented him from ever visiting the quaint old building was a fear that there would be a barrage of questions from the owner of the pub.

Din was nervous that they would suss him out somehow. He suspected that the pub did not get many foreigners in it. Once they realised how close Din lived to The Volume, that would be it. They would know he was The Mandalorian.

Although it was an irrational fear, Din looked and sounded much different than the character he portrayed, the terror at the prospect of being discovered never really left him. He was constantly checking himself, trying to speak differently and disguise the gait of his walk. He had found that it was surprisingly easy to blend in, given how people were never really going to imagine what Mando looked like without the suit of armour.

Still, as he stepped into his local pub for the first time, his clammy hand clasped in yours, Din was a bundle of nerves. It was amusing that he could fight people off physically like it was no more physically demanding than opening a jar of pickles. When it came to people… Din felt out of his depth.

Fortunately, it transpired that his fears were misplaced, for the pub landlord – not owner, you had corrected Din on the proper terminology – was just as much of an outsider as Din was. 

Greef Karga was not from this part of the world either, like Din he had once been employed at the studios here. An actor from the US, after concluding his job here, had just never left. He explained how he had fallen in love with the environment here and bought a cottage close by.

When the former landlord of The Nevarro Arms had sold up, Greef had decided to step in and buy the pub to save it from closure. It was an icon of the surrounding area that desperately needed saving. Greef had heeded the call.

Upon seeing how relaxed and friendly Greef was, Din felt instantly relieved. The image he had feared of a nosy old lady with grey hair, mottled skin and too much time on her hands, who wanted to know everything about Din’s life as well as yours had been his biggest fear. With Greef, he needn’t have worried.

The only thing that did worry him, though, was how extensively Greef had talked about the studios here. 

Now there was no way to avoid it. Surely you were going to bring it up. 

When Greef finally got distracted by some other customers, Din followed you through the pub to find a table. He was appreciating the low beams of the pub, the unmistakable smoky feeling produced by the real wooden fire. He was finally beginning to feel calm and relaxed. 

Until he saw it. 

His heart dropped at the sight of it.

You were walking directly towards a huge display of Star Wars memorabilia. Various posters and autographs were framed, and hanging proudly on the walls. There was no way around it. No way you weren't going to stop and bring it up.

Everything Greef had just told you would have been a perfect segue for Din to come clean, to tell you the truth, that it was no coincidence that he lived in Nevarro, given its proximity to The Volume. That he was The Mandalorian. 

When you inevitably stopped in front of the impressive display of memorabilia at The Nevarro Arms, it would provide a perfect conversation starter. He could just slip it in carefully. There would be no more paranoia that you would find the terrible secret he had been keeping from you. He would not have to hide such an enormous part of his life from you any longer. He could tell you all about how much being a Mandalorian meant to him. He could be honest with you about what kept him from you on long shooting days.

Once again, Din took the coward’s way out.

Right before you reached the display of memorabilia, Din called your name.

You turned away from it abruptly, spinning around to face him. 

“I thought we could sit here, by the fire?” Din said as he gestured towards a cosy table tucked away in the corner. 

“Sure,” you nodded and moved to join him.

Din breathed a sigh of relief as he sat down opposite you. Anxious that the conversation would not circle back to The Volume, or anything about the memorabilia on display, Din asked you a question that he knew would serve a dual purpose; that would keep you distracted and talking, while also pulling your mind far away from Star Wars. 

“What’s the history behind Sunday Roasts?” Din asked, inquisitively. “I mean, I saw a sign for them outside here ‘Try our famous Sunday Roast!’ but I’ve never heard of one before.”

At once, you pivoted from someone Din was on a date with into your full historian mode. You launched yourself into an enthusiastic lecture, telling him all about Sunday roasts.

“So, British food has a bad rep around the world and that’s pretty fair. Some of this island’s cuisine is truly terrible. But I think the history of the roast is quite interesting and amusing,” you started, eyes twinkling with delight at finally getting to share your knowledge. “A lot of countries put pride and time into their cooking, but I think British people have always been a little more lazy than that. We think the Sunday Roast or Roast Dinner as we know it first started in the Middle Ages. After a busy week of working in the fields, the peasants would just shove a joint of meat into a roasting tin and leave it to cook over the fire while they went to church. So when they returned, I’m not sure what was tougher, the boots they wore to work in the fields all week or the meat!” you giggled.

“Yeah, I wonder,” Din laughed, “Interesting history, though. Never heard anything about it before. Thanks for the lecture,” Din added with a wink.

“Oh, there I go again,” You said timidly, biting your lip in embarrassment, “Off on another one of my lectures. You can take the girl out of the museum but you can’t take the museum out of the girl.”

“No, Sunflower,” Din whispered, smiling as he propped his elbow on the table, resting his hand on his chin, “I love it when you go off on your little tangents about things. Your passion and enthusiasm… it’s infectious. You’re also incredibly cute when you do it.”

“Din…” you scoffed. 

Din smiled at your bashfulness. He loved how much more open you seemed to be to receiving compliments from him. You had been so shy at first and now you seemed to be getting increasingly comfortable with him admiring you and appreciating your presence.

“I mean it, Sunflower,” Din nodded, as he laced his fingers with yours.

Here, in this tiny, cosy pub, as the sun set and the fire crackled in the corner, Din thought you looked perfect. Your beauty was on full display to him, both inside and outside. The twinkle in your eye that was evident after the compliments he had paid you only added to your gorgeousness.

Din knew then that he had made the right decision. How could he ever let you go? 

“Thank you,” you said with a wink, “Let me go and get us another round, do you want your usual?”

“A what?” Din added in confusion. He knew he understood the words you were saying, but some of them seemed so alien in this context. 

“In the UK, it's common to buy a round of drinks rather than everyone going up to the bar individually. Saves time and as long as everyone sticks to the same drinks, it pretty much works out at the same cost. And your usual is just what you had before, so in your case a pint of the cider Greef recommended?”

“Oh,” Din nodded, fascinated as he was introduced to this new culture he knew nothing about. “I'll have another pint of cider but let me pay, baby,” Din insisted, placing his hand out to try and stop you.

“No, Din. I insist. I want to buy a pint,” you smiled as you walked away from his outstretched hand.

Din had no real concept of how long the process of ordering a pint should take. But as the minutes ticked by, he struggled to remain rational about what was taking you so long at the bar. After a few minutes, he became concerned about whether something had happened to you. 

It wasn’t like The Nevarro Arms was the busiest pub in the universe, given the tiny village that it served. So, despite his reservations and fear that he was being overbearing, Din moved from the table and went to the bar. 

Thankfully, he spotted you straight away and some of the tension that had been building inside of him was somewhat relieved when he caught sight of you standing at the bar.

However, his heart instantly sank when he saw who you were talking to. A familiar figure, who Din instantly recognised. 

It was Migs Mayfeld, a security guard from The Volume. 

Din suspected that Mayfeld was already slightly inebriated. Din locked eyes with the bald man, but Migs broke contact and resumed chatting with you. 

He tried to quell his panic by remembering that Migs would have no idea who he was. After all, the only way that he would have known that Din Djarin was The Mandalorian was if he was standing there with a big suit of armour on.

But Din was not wearing armour. He was wearing jeans and a sweater. 

You hadn't spotted him yet, your back turned as you continued chatting away to Mayfeld. Din suddenly felt guilty and awkward about his paranoia. He turned to leave, seeing that you had only been chatting to Greef and Migs and there were no more sinister reasons for how long you had taken. At that moment, you must have spotted him because from across the bar, he heard you call his name.

Din turned to face you and heard you say:

“Oh Migs, this is… uh, my boyfriend, Din.”

Din froze. There was no option now, he had to go and greet the man who had accompanied him to set so many times and checked him in at the little security hut at the entrance to The Volume. Din was silently praying that the armour hid enough of his build and voice so that Mayfeld did not guess who he was.

“Pleasure to meet you. Mayf– Migs, was it?” Din asked, his heart skipping a beat as he almost said the man’s surname. The nickname that everyone at work used for him. Luckily, Din corrected himself just in time.

Din noticed the way Mayfeld regarded him as he moved in to shake his hand, hoping that the flicker of recognition he thought he saw was something else. 

“Nice to meet you Din, you got a wonderful girl here, I must say,” Mayfeld smiled.

The way Mayfeld turned to smile at you unsettled something in Din. He felt his blood turning hot. Luckily, you were on hand to diffuse the situation.

“Well, nice to speak to you Migs,” you nodded in the bald man’s direction, “And Greef,” you smiled at the man pulling pints behind the bar. “We’ll go sit by the fire and enjoy our pints. It's Din’s first time in a pub and he’s pretty excited to be here,” you smiled.

Din watched speechless as you walked towards him and grabbed his arm. 

“You okay?” you asked, linking your arm through his as you led him back to the table.

Din nodded, although he wasn’t entirely sure that was the truth, because of how you had referred to your relationship with him to Mayfeld. The fact that you had just referred to him as your boyfriend was running through his brain on an endless loop.

The pride, the happiness that he saw in your eyes when you said that word. It was something that the two of you had not officially discussed, but it felt so right. It would be wrong to refer to you in any other way. 

After he had met you, there was no question for Din of there being anyone else. It was always you, only you. 

Now, due to his cowardice, he felt immense guilt. That title, your relationship becoming something official was exactly what Din wanted more than anything else in the world. There were no doubts in his mind that you were the one for him. 

You had brought him out of his shell, including earlier in the day on the boats in the park. It was something he never would have considered on his own but with you, it just felt so right and Grogu had the best time. Your relationship with Din’s son was just as special as the relationship you had with Din, it was plain to see how much joy you had brought to the special little boy’s life.

Rather than feel the sheer joy he should have felt at your decision to bestow such a beautiful title on him, Din suddenly felt heavy and burdened by it. As you slid back into the cosy table to enjoy the freshly pulled pints of cider, there was one emotion Din was plagued with above all. 

Guilt.

Din knew he should never have allowed to get it to this point, such a serious step, without saying something first, telling you the truth about who he was. The guilt threatened to engulf him, it was eating him up inside. Din’s heart broke when you took his inner turmoil as a sign that he was not happy with the way you had just referred to him.

“I hope you uhh… you didn’t mind me saying that. I mean calling you my boyfriend. I know we didn’t talk about it or anything but uh…. I don’t think Mayfeld was flirting really but I just wanted him to know I was seeing someone and it’s serious,” you said, anxiously looking up at Din over your glass as you took your first sip from your pint.

Din felt awful about the anxiety that he saw there, that you were so worried you had been upset when you had done nothing of the sort. Now that he looked at you before him and thought of you as his girlfriend, it caused a sensation in Din’s chest that was quite unlike anything he had experienced before. Somewhere between pride, security and a dash of possessiveness – knowing that you were his. No one else’s. He moved to reassure you, he could not leave you thinking that it was something he would not have chosen for himself. Din placed his arms on the table and took both of your hands in his, gazing at you adoringly.

“I do not mind for a single second, Sunflower,” Din beamed at you, “We didn’t talk about it, that’s true, but to me, it feels right. I am honoured to hold your heart.”

Din brought his lips to your hands, marvelling at how soft your skin was as he placed a firm kiss on the back of your hand. The sigh of relief he heard you release was noticeable in the quiet of the pub, and Din was happy that he had managed to reassure you.

“And I am honoured that you want to,” you said, beaming at Din adoringly. “Despite how useless I am when it comes to rowing boats.”

Din laughed at that, the memory of your earlier exploits in the park was going to live with him for a long time and comfort him in his darkest days, Din was sure of that. 

“Well, you can’t have it all. It would be unfair on the rest of the world, otherwise,” Din said as he took a sip from his cider.

“Din…” you scoffed, unused to such a beautiful compliment.

To Din, you did look so beautiful. The firelight illuminated your features as the sky behind the window your table was against turned to a dark blue behind you. The wooden panels of the pub combined with the traditional decor and crackling fire all contributed to the scene before Din. He thought it was one of the most stunning sights he had ever seen. Here was a man who, thanks to his work, had travelled the world and dined in many of the most luxurious, exclusive establishments. It turned out the greatest one of them all was this small, quaint, pub in the English countryside. All thanks to you.

It was such a beautiful moment, Din was almost swept up in it completely. But then he remembered what he was hiding from you, and the sickening feeling in his stomach came back. He was so terrified of ruining this, the most incredible thing in his life aside from his son, that he was tongue-tied. It would have been a perfect opportunity to tell you. 

Instead, he sat there, a warm feeling spreading in his chest. Whether from the love he felt for you or the crackling fire, he wasn't entirely sure. Still, Din basked in the moment. Committing every single sight and sound to memory as he watched you. 

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

The rest of the night was passed with pleasant chatter and laughter. Din could tell that you wanted to stay overnight, and he wanted you to. He didn’t want the laughter by the fire on this pleasant summer evening with the delicious pints of cider to end. But even if it would have been possible for you to blag a sick day, that was impossible for him, especially not with how filming was coming to a climax. It would never wash.

So, reluctantly, after one more pint, Din walked you outside and placed you into a waiting car that would take you home, thanks to the driver that the company supplied for him to use whenever he needed it. Din could tell that you felt hesitant to use such a luxury, but he had repeatedly assured you that it wasn’t coming out of his pocket. 

Even if he was, he could surely afford it. Din usually felt embarrassed by the riches that were afforded to him, but wherever he could use a perk of the job to spoil you, it all felt worthwhile to him. Din watched the car leave down the narrow country lane one way before he turned around and headed back towards the cottage, back to his son who was surely asleep, having been lulled off by the dulcet tones of Kuiil. Din was always happy to get back to Grogu, but he missed you already.

Din returned to Grogu and the cottage. He hummed a happy tune, feeling a buzz from the cider. Blissfully unaware that something as simple as a visit to his local pub could have changed everything. 

As he stood in the door, watching Grogu sleep peacefully, Din Djarin had no idea that by finally taking you to The Nevarro Arms, he had just set in motion a chain of events that would change the future for the two of you in the most dramatic way…

Next Chapter

Taglist: @survivingandenduring @readingiskeepingmegoing

[kats-fic-recs]

Bkdk fics for the Soul

tell them what you saw in me (not how i turned out to be)

Izuku volunteers himself as a tribute. He's eighteen, it's his last reaping, and still, he jumps out of the crowd and stops the world.

It's probably the stupidest thing he's ever done. But he doesn't regret it.

Not until the next tribute's name is called and it belongs to his best friend.

Katsuki Bakugou.

Pit against the boy he's loved all his life in a battle royale to the death, Izuku has to make some decisions.

first meeting

Who he is when the world is watching. And who he wants to be when he dies.

Katsuki has a plan. He’s been a virgin for long enough that it’s starting to get pathetic. He doesn’t have time for a relationship, but it wouldn’t be so bad to fuck someone more experienced than he is once and get it over with so he can move onto better methods of stress relief than watching Netflix with a jar of grilled olives and a beer.

Too bad it turns out that his ‘experienced’ date is a virgin, too—and a massive nerd.

take care

There are words to say stay safe, I’ll miss you, I love you, but Kacchan has always preferred to leave things unspoken. Izuku isn’t much with languages, but he thinks he’s figured out this one.

“Emotional constipation manifested as over-the-top housewifery?” Mina asks. Before Izuku can say that is not what he meant at all, she nods. “Yeah, I can see it.”

How to Train Your Useless Dragon

Bakugou Katsuki needs to kill a dragon to take its teeth and become a warrior of his tribe.

But, what? Why the fuck doesn't this dragon have teeth?

don't be a stranger

“Not even a thank you for your friendly neighborhood Spiderman?” Izuku called out teasingly. “Where are you going?”

“Why the fuck do you wanna know, creep?”

“You sure you can make it back home safe?”

Katsuki glanced back angrily and flipped him the bird. “Eat shit, bugboy.”

Bugboy. That was new.

In which Izuku is Spiderman, Katsuki is nosy, and juggling high school and vigilante work has never been so difficult when your best friend is convinced that something’s up.

Or, five times Katsuki almost finds out that Izuku is Spiderman. One time he actually does.

face reveal!

SmallMight and Dynamight are two streamers that nerd out over All Might video games and often interact, both on and off stream, though never with their cameras on. Izuku and Katsuki two are college students that find solace and friendship through online streaming, and occasionally think about their estranged childhood best friends.

It all changes when SmallMight reaches a milestone and finally turns his camera on.

Worth It

I have something for you, once you finish eating,” Katsuki says.

Deku perks up with poorly hidden curiosity. “Oh?”

His hair is still damp, dripping onto his grey shirt with a simple Sidekick emblazoned on the front. He’s wearing one of Katsuki’s sweatpants and a pair of fuzzy socks stuffed into slippers, looking so comfortable and at home that Katsuki has the sudden urge to tackle him into the wall or squeeze his face and kiss him until he passes out. Normal urges when dealing with Deku, of course.

Instead, Katsuki throws one of his chopsticks at him, nailing Deku perfectly on the forehead.

“Yeah,” Katsuki says, ignoring Deku’s squawk.

-

Deku doesn't give himself nice things often enough for Katsuki's taste. So, he'll fix that, starting with one iconic Lego set in familiar reds, blues, and yellows at a time.

[guentzel]

“ is… that my shirt you’re wearing? ”  goldynado 👀🫢

you know the way directly into my heart

Nolan showered, did his postgame stretches, and even got through his postgame interviews without noticing a damn thing. Not even his mother, who was prone to comment about anything and everything he did, made a comment when she came down to drop off Levi.

Holding her close to his chest, cheek pressed against the top of her head, he tucked his nose under the collar of his shirt and sighed, sinking down into the plush clubhouse chair. Everything ached, but that was to be expected after playing nine innings of baseball. He was just glad that they'd won--it alleviated some of the strain from his shoulders, and maybe the media would stop chomping at the bit for heads to roll.

Against him, Levi was nothing but dead weight, her entire body relaxed. It wasn't late, but she had to be exhausted, having sit out in the blistering afternoon sun and undoubtedly full of pretzel bites and ice cream. She wasn't sticky to the touch though, so that saved him the trouble of having to put a cranky baby in the bath. He could change her into her pajamas and get her back to sleep no problem.

He inhaled slowly, deeply, and released, hot breath dancing along his heated skin beneath the shirt. God, he could fall asleep here--

"Hey, Nol, I'm ready to go if you are."

Goldy's voice jerked Nolan back to reality in an instant, all thought of sleep leaving his body in one swift movement. Blessedly, Levi remained asleep, one of her hands fisting into his shirt as she moved her face closer to his neck.

Above them, Goldy chuckled, deep and amused, the way he always got when he was watching Lars at BP or watching Levi try her shot at one of the many milestones in her life. It was with a fondness that Nolan didn't know how to describe, but always left him feeling tender and warm. Raw.

"Yeah, I'm..." Nolan said as he struggled to his feet, his mouth and body trying to keep up with his brain. "I'm ready."

"You look like you were asleep."

"Was about to be. Been a long week." Nolan rested a hand against the small of Levi's back as he tried to gain his balance. Around them, the clubhouse was still alive with chatter, other teammate's families coming in, and a few straggling reporters trying to get one last soundbite out of one of the more chattier guys. "Ready for the day off."

Goldy's smile widened, finally showing just a hint of teeth. Flustered and sleep-addled, Nolan could quite figure out why he was looking at him like that, until it all clicked in crystal clear clarity: day off. Mom was gonna look after Levi. Victory sex--or at least a semblance of it.

Pleasure began to stir in Nolan's gut at the thought, but he smashed it down and rolled his eyes at Goldy instead, who didn't look even remotely ashamed. Instead, he held his hands out. "I'll take her for you, so you can grab your stuff."

While reluctant to do so, Nolan really did need to get his things packed before they were there all night. As gently as he could manage, he passed her over, and Levi just curled into Goldy just as easily as she had him. Not for the first time, he marveled at what his life was, and how easily everything slotted into place. He felt he didn't deserve it, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.

His locker wasn't too far away, and he began to sort through his things, throwing his street clothes into his backpack and grabbing the random items that were strewn about, talking to Goldy all the while. When he turned, throwing his bag over his shoulder, Goldy paused mid sentence, staring at Nolan's bicep with a hard to read expression.

"Is... that my shirt you're wearing?" Goldy asked, voice painfully neutral.

"What?" Nolan frowned, looking down at himself. He was wearing their standard BP shirt, with the birds on the bat emblazoned across his chest. It looked just the same as every other shirt he's ever worn, but as Nolan plucked at the front, he could feel his face begin to warm.

It was too loose through the chest and arms. The sleeves hung down a little more than he remembered, brushing his forearms and didn't hug his biceps at all. Even when he looked further down at his sweatpants, he could see the hem hadn't settled where it usually was. It was a dumb thing to notice, but after wearing the exact same shirt for over a decade now, you noticed when things didn't sit quite right.

Or, you know, when the shirt you're wearing isn't yours.

Nolan liked to think there wasn't much physically different between him and Goldy, but he's worn the man's shirts enough at home to know different. Bigger biceps, slighter bigger in the chest, definitely longer torso...

Just to be sure, he checked the left sleeve. His face felt like it was on fire at the 46 he saw staring back at him.

"I guess so," he croaked, tugging awkwardly at the shirt again. It was so painfully obvious now that he knew--the shirt reeked of Goldy's cologne, of his deodorant. But they had practically lived inside the other's skin for years now, their clothes intermingling, what was once his now becoming theirs, so he shouldn't be so shocked that this happened. But it'd never happened in the clubhouse. They'd always been good at separating home from work, and now he felt... he felt...

"I like it," Goldy broke him out of his stupor, hand reaching out to gently stroke the 46 between his fingers. "It looks good on you."

I look good on you.

Nolan couldn't suppress the smile that spread across his face even if he tried. That was a new feeling that he hadn't felt before in their relationship: a feeling of being owned, of being his. Yes, living together, sharing their things, raising Levi were all aspects of their relationship, but at times, it was hard to feel like they belonged to each other anymore than that. He knew Goldy wanted him, their earlier conversation highlighted that, but this... this was a different feeling than to be wanted.

He'd never been lusted after. Or, at least, not in a very long time. Not in a way that mattered to him.

"I think we have a couple of extra jerseys lying around at home," Nolan said, deeply enjoying the way Goldy's eyes darkened, the way his body listed forward. Despite all of that, Levi was still safe in his arms, protected. "If you want to see just how good it looks."

"Good thing we have all day tomorrow."

Nolan grinned, and had to bite down on his tongue to stop from kissing Goldy. They weren't really a 'secret', but they weren't anything public, and both of them intended to keep it that way for as long as possible. Instead, he said, "Let's get home. Levi's exhausted."

"She's not the only one."

As they began to make their way out of the clubhouse, saying goodbye to teammates as they went, Nolan allowed himself to enjoy this moment, to be present in it. Before he was traded to the Cardinals, it wasn't something he really found himself doing. It was always go, go, go, do as much as you can as fast as you can, and forget about the simpler things in life.

But now that he had it, now that he realized what he was missing, he was going to enjoy it as much as he could, for as long as he could.

[vullcanica]

@vilestblood:

"I kept the black cat."

Tenuously, he confesses, fixated on the plush white cat, tracing the velvety fabric's scuffs and the emblazoned red ribbon around its neck. Worn-out — or well-loved — and decorated with several milestones of sobriety. Its mere presence in Nicodemo's apartment told a long story to Antonín, yet he could merely glimpse that time between then and now.

He knows Nicodemo is standing by the door.

His ears feel warm, ringing slightly at the rhythm of his heartbeat. His mind is still fuzzy and slow like an old movie playing before him. Nicodemo said he could have a concussion. He's staying the night because of that. He should go to a hospital, but... the couch is so soft underneath him. The white cat feels so heavy on his lap. He couldn't possibly get up. He doesn't want to go.

"Back in Paris," the black cat. "It's in a locked drawer." Is it? The last time... did he put it back in that drawer?

"No." He's always so busy lately. He forgot. It wasn't intentional. But maybe it was. "It's on my desk."

Antonín chuckles sans humour. Something keeps gnawing at his heart, a pain worse than any wound. Unrelenting. "He gave me good advice the other day, that little shabby thing." Melancholy bleeds inside him, prompting him to lift his gaze to meet Nicodemo. "I miss the black cat."

  "... Did you.."

  Funny thing, shame. A thing utterly foreign to him in all but Antonín's white-hot, mesmeric presence. It sits heavy on the tongue. Weighs it down. His voice cracks.

  He watches Antonín trace deft fingers over a small, incriminating tear where his own thumb has rubbed the fabric down to nothing and feels the cavernous humiliation of a secret laid bare. There are months of worrying the soft white cat between shaky digits evident on its worn facáde, of clutching it in sleep, lining its little ribbon collar with waypoint coins from NA meetings; unwittingly adorning it with keepsakes of emotion. Traces of desperation, longing, joy and love meant for Antonín, but never meant for his eyes. A private reverie he'd witlessly forgotten to hide. And suddenly that's his heart right there, held bare and gentle in the hands of its spitting image. White paw to pale fingers. Some kind of grandfather paradox which threatens to implode the walls of his already feeble ventricles and reality itself as he knows it.

  His grip on the glass of water tightens, lip digging into his sternum where he's clutched it to his chest. Antonín probably needs it. He should hand it to him... He'd only meant to fetch it from the other room, but doing anything with it now would mean crossing the liminal doorway between the there-then where he has space to breathe or run or hide and the here-now of.. this, whatever it is. There's a ghost of his best friend sat in the living room, dressed in blood and anguish, and he's saying terrible, awful things to him - that he's kept him in ways that might matter, that he talks to him still. Nico finds he can only bear witness - suddenly a stranger in his own skin and his too big sleep shit and short hair and his innards twisting painfully like a knife's cut through them - fighting to find a voce down his own throat to interject before something gives.

I miss the black cat. (I miss you.)

"Enough."

  His heart goes first. He can almost feel the fucked up little thing constrict in protest - an old, still weeping wound rupturing altogether. His eyes sting next, hot behind the sockets. Heavy under the lead weight of a searching gaze and the threat of tears. He squeezes them shut to escape both. His breath comes short, stuttery. The panic-pain of Antonín's surreal entrance into his life and his quick near-departure catches up all at once, breaking his resolve. Splitting his chest - one side selfless, the other selfish. He wants to hold him again... soothe other hurts beyond the physical evident in his drawn face. Even now, he isn't sure he's allowed.

  "I don't know what any of that means." It isn't hope, this he knows. He doesn't know much else. The familiar desire to attribute any meaning Antonín's presence here - to any of his words - gets extinguished by the choking hand of memory: 'Don't contact me again.' - a clear-cut last message. A closed door.

  The tears come quietly, by habit alone. He's mourned this ghost a thousand times before. He'll mourn it again.

"Why did you come here?"

  

[filipeanut]

When Rocel and I started dating she was training young journalists and helping another organization promote safe and transparent elections. I knew from the beginning that her drive would take her places, and if we stuck together, it would take us places too.

In a few weeks, her latest milestone involves studying public health in the UK on a full scholarship. Thanks to the privilege of being a freelance designer with a US passport, I’ll be joining her in our new home.

My hope for her is that she has a renewed sense of vigor, after years of working inside the eye of a storm involving a global pandemic complicated by fake news that has been just as viral. Not that she has been drained or disenchanted by her work, but because we both know that this masters degree will help her (and the people she works with, and for) weather storms in the future. A Bisaya word that comes to my mind is “paglig-on” = to strengthen.

Here Rocel is wearing a one-of-a-kind two-way hablon top with detachable Filipiniana sleeves emblazoned with hand sewn floral lace by Iloilo’s very own lin.ay.ph.

Salamat gid Pilipinas, see you again soon.

[catflowerqueen]

I had a dream last night where soulmates were a known thing and the first meeting between them manifested as a person getting a symbol/scar emblazoned on their skin. Unusually, however (at least from how I generally see them depicted), the symbol didnt actually stand for the soulmate, but instead represented something intrinsic for the person manifesting it.

Anyway, in the dream a bunch of middle school aged children were gathered in a room that I thought was just the top of a tall building, but i think might have actually been some form of blimp considering that they travelled within to another location later.

On the surface it seemed like this was just some sort of typical class/traditional milestone event to teach kids about soul mates and the symbols and then go to some sort of gigantic meet and greet where they could hopefully meet their soulmate... But I remember feeling some genuinely sinister undertones in the dream. Like I could tell this was one of the opening scenes of a dystopian novel.

Mainly because of the presence of two of my oldest and most beloved OCs--who aren’t exactly soulmates but might as well be--and the things they represent and the fact that they have powers and seemed to imply that they manifested those powers with the marks.

Which might imply that the marks are supposed to give everyone powers except for the fact that the two of them seemed to be hiding the fact that they did have powers from everyone else (though very very badly considering how loud and cryptic they were being about the whole thing. Even though it seemed to be enough for anyone but me), and the authorities in charge of the group only seemed to have brought them along so they could use them as examples to the other kids about what would happen at manifest.

My OCs also seemed to imply that getting their marks also made them technically adults in terms of some of the laws of the land--mostly in terms of information spread, I think--so the sinister vibe might just have been from the fact that the kids seemed too young for "adulthood" or from how forced the whole thing seemed, but I still cant help but feel like something more sinister was afoot than I was privy to.

Maybe it was just the fact that the "scene" before that was some sort of generic "escape from the observation tower ride before it completely malfunctions and overheats and literally crashes to the ground" dream starring Tommy Pickles from Rugrats: All Grown Up that seemed completely unrelated other than the fact that the inside of the observation tower looked like the inside of the room the kids were in and was also technically a ride even though they werent actually the same ride. So the soulmate part was still running partially off the part fuelled by terror and the need to escape?

It was just weird, in any case.

[reikunrei]

i was tagged by @emblazons !! thank ya thank ya!!

Rules: Put your music on shuffle and list the first ten songs that come up, then tag ten people.

1 - Wake up sweetheart -- Vickeblanka 2 - Love Sick -- SHINee 3 - Poster Girl -- Backstreet Boys 4 - NUMBER BOY -- Holland 5 - エイリアン -- Panorama Panama Town 6 - 100yen coffee -- Panorama Panama Town (yeah sure they can be twice in a row) 7 - Young & Free - Taichi Mukai 8 - In Too Deep -- Sum 41 9 - Milestone -- Mamoru Miyano 10 - Fishin' in the Dark -- Nitty Gritty Dirt Band (yeehawww)

yes im aware my music taste is all over the place. tags are open to anyone !!! but also i'll specifically call out @simplytemonade @amserblog @antisociallilbrat and @caffernnn >:3c

[emblazons]

What are you doing here, Max?

Emblazons 1K Followers Choice: Marie's Favorite Episodes WINNER: S04E04 - Dear Billy (29.3%)

[werewolfnat]

^ my joint mixed reactions whenever i hit follower milestones lol ^

Like how?! ju-just howww?! I'm not that good of a gifmaker/blogger/ human being am I? For real though wow, I say this every time (and i know how much I express my confusion every time too haha) how grateful I am for you guys, I appreciate all of you new and old who have stuck with me throughout all my dumb hyperfixations, all those who interact with my gifsets and all the other stuff.

So last celebration I did the top 10 Stranger Things Characters as voted for by you guys, and you may have seen me do a poll with suggestions for this celebration and we landed on top Stranger Things dynamics.

So for this celebration I've made a poll for you guys to go vote on your fave ST dynamics, and the top 10 i'll make into some gifsets

>> Go Vote Here <<

It's multiple choice so vote for all your faves - there's an other option for dynamic i may have missed (i literally went through everyone I could think of and it frazzled my brain so yeah I think I definitely missed some lol)

I don't know how long I'm gonna run the poll for, at least a week or two I think or until people lose interest idk but be sure my job will probably get in the way

Gonna tag some much loved mutuals in no particular order below the cut, signal boost or not it's up to you, and as per usual I have no idea who to tag so if i miss anyone who would've liked to have been tagged i'm sorry my socially awkward ass will be haunted by it forever lol

(...also i have no idea how many people tumblr will let me tag so sorry if it doesn't work 😅)

@bqrbie @jeysuso @deanncastiel @iero @lamberts @bylrndgm @userdjo @heroeddiemunson @eddiemunsens @achingly-shy @emziess @padme-amidala @bitchsteve @finalgalnancy @buckleydiaz @machine-slays-dragons @ofalltheginjoints @barbieharrington @thyla @stars-bean @buckysbarnes @stargyles @thefreakandthehair @sidekick-hero @legitcookie @seaoftr @corrodedbisexual @emblazons

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

How Pride became a carnival of homophobia | Andrew Doyle

So, Pride Month is finally over. The flags, the rainbow bunting, the corporate drag shows, all of it is being wound down for another year, and many people will be breathing a sigh of relief. Gay people included.

For what began all those decades ago as an annual demonstration against homophobic bigotry held to commemorate The Stonewall riots of 1969, has descended into a month-long orgy of virtue signaling. Far worse than that, due to Pride's embrace of gender ideology, it has helped to fuel a new form of homophobia in faux progressive garb.

The impact of the riots at the Stonewall Inn in June 1969 has often been overblown. Those few summer days when the beleaguered gay community fought back against the police on the streets of New York is rightly considered a milestone in the struggle for equal rights. But gay equality was truly achieved by the activists who persisted in the aftermath, harnessing the energy of the uprising and changing the world forever. Perhaps a more important milestone was the march organized by a handful of campaigners a year later. Veteran gay rights activist Craig Rodwell wanted to hold a yearly commemoration of Stonewall, building on the annual reminder picket events he had been organizing on Independence Day in Philadelphia.

The first New York Pride March, as it was later rebranded, was held on the 28th of June 1970. It was called the Christopher Street Liberation Day and was organized by Rodwell, Fred Sargeant, Linda Rhodes and Ellen Broidy. It was an audacious display. Police hostility to gay people was rife at the time, the local media were overwhelmingly unsympathetic, and there were fears of violent repercussions from observers. Nevertheless, the day passed off peacefully, perhaps because of a general sense of astonishment that thousands of gay people would assemble so openly. At the head of the march, Fred Sergeant carried a bullhorn and called out instructions to the marchers as they made their way from the West Village to Central Park.

Fifty-four years later, and Pride has transformed from an important act of gay and lesbian resistance into an event full of heterosexuals calling themselves "queer" or "non-binary," desperate to identify into an oppressed group. Progress Pride flags flutter from every High Street store. This relatively new design, a kaleidoscopic eyesore that has replaced the traditional six stripe pride flag, is emblazoned on schools, universities, hospitals and civic buildings.

In the city of Arlington in Texas, this year's "family friendly" Pride event included displays of dildos, half- naked drag queens and human dogs in bondage gear. And it was all spon.sored by Lockheed Martin, the world's largest producer of military armaments.

In London, pedestrian crossings have been repainted with the Progress Pride motif. Police horses find walking across the colored stripes confused and disturbing, so the animals had to undergo special training to overcome their fears. After all, it is essential to address the rampant homophobia within the equine community.

What might the thousands who turned out on that summer day in New York in 1970 make of this distorted version of Pride? Those gay men and lesbians who risked social ostracism and physical violence to gather in public have little in common with this garish and unsettling facsimile.

A poll from 2021 determined that almost 40% of Americans between the ages of 18 and 24 now identify as LGBTQ. And given the vast majority of them identify as "trans," "non-binary" and "queer," this means that gay people are now the minority in this coalition. The early pioneers of gay rights didn't risk so much for their movement to be usurped by fetishistic heterosexuals with a martyr complex.

A recent poll on X asked a simple question: "Do you want Pride anymore?" The response was overwhelmingly negative. But while social media polls are notoriously unreliable, it is surely significant that this one was reposted by Fred Sargeant and that his answer was a resounding "no." That the man who led the first Pride March, bullhorn in hand, should now reject the annual event that he co-created is far from trivial.

[ Continues... ]

==

Note: This is a video version of an article by Andrew.

Update: It's funny that this video has been age-restricted by YouTube, given it just depicts events at public Pride parades.

[purannegi244]

From Proposals to Anniversaries: Unique Marriage Gift and Decoration Ideas

Making Every Milestone a Moment to Remember

A marriage is a beautiful journey filled with milestones, each representing a step in the couple’s shared story. From the romantic proposal to the grand wedding celebration and the quiet joy of anniversaries, every occasion deserves a touch of love and celebration. Here’s a guide to unique gift ideas and creative decoration concepts to make each milestone truly memorable.

Proposals: Whispering “Yes” with Enchantment

A proposal is a pivotal moment, a promise of love whispered under the stars or a joyous cry amidst a crowd. The perfect proposal gift is a beautiful blend of sentimentality and flair.

A Personalized Treasure Chest: Filled with sentimental tokens of your love – a letter recounting your journey together, photographs that capture cherished moments, or a piece of jewelry that embodies your shared dreams.

An Experience to Remember: A romantic weekend getaway to a breathtaking destination, a private concert featuring their favorite band, or tickets to a play they’ve always wanted to see together, creating an unforgettable shared experience.

A Symbolic Gift: A personalized piece of jewelry with your initials or a birthstone ring symbolizing your union. Or, perhaps a beautifully crafted pendant emblazoned with the first letter of their names intertwined.

Engraved Wine Glasses: A set of two fine wine glasses with a personal inscription – a romantic message, the date of their first encounter, or a shared dream – to celebrate their new beginning together.

A Donation in Their Name: Contribute to a cause they care about deeply. A donation to their favorite charity or a cause that resonates with their shared values makes a significant gesture and embodies their spirit of giving back.

Weddings: A Celebration of Love’s Grand Arrival

A wedding is the grandest stage for celebrating a love story, an unforgettable fusion of two lives. Gift ideas should embody the couple’s personalities and express your joy for their union.

Homeware for Building a Sanctuary: Luxurious bedding for a cozy haven, personalized photo frames to immortalize their wedding memories, or a beautiful art piece that speaks to their shared taste. These gifts bring a touch of personal style and warmth to their new home.

An Adventure for Two: A weekend escape to a remote hill station or a lively city, tickets to a concert or theater performance, or a hot air balloon ride over breathtaking landscapes. These gifts encourage shared experiences and create lasting memories.

Experiences that Indulge Their Senses: A luxurious couple’s massage session for relaxation, a fine dining experience at their favorite restaurant, or a curated wine tasting tour. These gifts prioritize quality time and shared moments.

A Contribution to a Dream: Help them achieve a long-held goal – a down payment on a home, a dream vacation, or a cause they passionately support. This shows your faith in their future together.

Traditional Gifts with a Modern Twist: Handcrafted silverware in an elegant design, a set of vibrantly painted madhubani paintings, or a traditional Indian garment for a special occasion that beautifully reflects their heritage.

Anniversaries: Milestones Marked by Love

Each anniversary is a testament to the couple’s enduring bond, a reminder of the journey they have shared. The perfect anniversary gift shows appreciation for their love and strength.

Symbolic Gifts: A porcelain vase for a first anniversary, a leather travel journal for a second anniversary, a handcrafted silver locket for a 25th anniversary. Each symbol represents a milestone and echoes the longevity of their relationship.

Renewing Their Vows: For significant milestones, a gift that renews their commitment and reaffirms their love. A romantic getaway to a secluded destination, a private vow renewal ceremony, or a photo shoot celebrating their love and longevity.

Experiences for Shared Growth: Cooking classes to learn new culinary skills, wine tasting sessions to explore different flavors, dance lessons to reconnect in a playful manner. These experiences nurture their shared interests and bring them closer together.

Gifts for a Cozy Home: A beautiful throw blanket for cozy evenings, a luxurious set of tea cups and saucers for a calming afternoon, a piece of handcrafted art that reflects their style and personality.

Personalized Gifts that Tell Their Story: A photo album brimming with treasured memories, a custom-made book chronicling their love story, a personalized calendar highlighting special dates that have shaped their bond.

Setting the Scene: Decoration Ideas for Every Celebration

The perfect setting enhances the joy and beauty of each celebration, making every moment feel extraordinary. Here are some creative and cultural decoration ideas that create a unique ambiance for each milestone.

Wedding Decorations: A Tapestry of Beauty and Tradition

Floral Extravaganza: A cascade of vibrant flowers – from cascading garlands to grand centerpieces and stunning floral archways. Include local and exotic blooms to create a visual masterpiece.

Mandala Magic: Intricate mandala designs, symbolizing the universe and harmony, add a touch of spiritual and cultural beauty. Incorporate them into centerpieces, table runners, or printed accents on backdrops.

Candles and Lighting: Soft candlelight creates a warm and romantic ambiance, while sparkling fairy lights cast a dreamy glow that's perfect for photography.

Elevated Table Settings: Elegant linens, personalized place cards, and eye-catching centerpieces adorned with candles, flowers, and miniature traditional Indian symbols elevate the dining experience.

Engagement Decorations: Whispering Romance

Romantic and Chic: Use a color scheme of soft pastels, warm hues, or rich golds, accentuated with shimmering fabrics, floral arrangements, and soft lighting.

Floral Arrangements with Personal Touches: Include personalized elements in centerpieces – framed photographs, small mementos from their shared journey, or customized floral arrangements incorporating their favorite blooms.

Enchanted Backdrops: A backdrop of cascading flowers or sheer fabrics adorned with fairy lights, creating a magical setting for photos.

Anniversary Decorations: Celebrating a Love Story

Nostalgia and Charm: Incorporate photographs, memorabilia, and sentimental touches to showcase the couple’s love story. Use a color palette that reflects the different stages of their journey – from the vibrancy of their wedding to the warmth of their present lives.

Romantic Ambiance: Candlelight, soft music, and dim lighting create a sensual atmosphere. Personalized photo albums and letters expressing love and appreciation add depth to the celebration.

Personalized Touches: Incorporate elements reflecting the couple's shared passions, hobbies, and interests – a table adorned with their favorite books, travel mementos from a memorable trip, or items representing their shared hobbies.

Going Beyond Decor: Creating a Truly Unforgettable Experience

Live Music: Traditional Indian musicians add cultural depth and a mesmerizing ambiance with their melodies and rhythms. Consider a solo sitar player for a serene atmosphere or a vibrant folk dance troupe for an energetic celebration.

Interactive Elements: Henna artists for a traditional touch, a signature cocktail bar with drinks named after the couple, or a photo booth with fun props keep guests engaged.

Customized Photo Booth: A themed photo booth with props related to the couple’s interests, hobbies, or wedding colors for unique and fun memories.

Interactive Games and Entertainment: Engaging games, quizzes, and activities related to the couple’s journey create a playful and interactive atmosphere.

Remember, the most beautiful element of any celebration is the love that radiates through every detail. From proposals to anniversaries, make each milestone unique and unforgettable with thoughtful gifts, creative decor, and personalized touches that celebrate the couple’s journey together.

```

[gradrags]

Why are printed hoodies printed on the Dubai school's ultimate choice of spirit?

Printed hoodies for schools in Dubai have emerged as the latest and greatest, making every school proud among its students in style and comfort. It does not only prove to be a fashion item; it favors unity, amplifies school identity, and gives a sense of belongingness among the students. What makes printed hoodies for schools in Dubai such an ideal option for expressing school spirit? Let's look at the reasons behind the growing attraction towards it:.

1. Personalized Designs for Individual Expression

The first significant reason why school insignia hoodies in Dubai are in high demand nowadays is their high level of personalization. School designs can have their logos, mascots, and school colors impressively emblazoned on the hoodies so that the personality of the school is well reflected in the body of the students. Such personalization makes the hoodie aesthetically pleasing and helps to have a kind of belonging. The school becomes the belonging place for these students when they, wearing their custom clothes that represent a shared culture, are able to go about their daily lives.

2. Comfort That Is Also Functional

Printed hoodies are very comfortable and the best for students in Dubai. Soft fabrics that can keep warm during cooler months provide warmth and comfort. Whether enjoying outdoor activities, casual school events, or simply as a part of daily routine, printed hoodies for schools in Dubai are versatile and allow school spirit to be displayed comfortably.

3. School Community Unification

It may also prove to be a source of unity. When all the students have a print design on their hoodies, it somehow provides for all a visual manifestation of unity that will heighten school spirit. It does not have to end there with the students; the teaching staff, even alumni, would be part of the act of unity. The collective brings the school community close to each other since it somehow bridged the distance between them and created a positive, cohesive atmosphere.

4. Durable and Long-term Performance

One of the more practical reasons the hoodies for schools are getting popular in Dubai is the durability factor. Quality hoodies, crafted with long-lasting fabric, along with printing techniques, survive the activities of students. As school uniforms and apparel wear down daily, this makes it worthwhile to invest in hoodies to ensure they will be useful for a long time; in turn, proves economical for schools to enhance school spirit.

5. Multifunctional for Any Event

It can be worn for any event of the school calendar. This means from sports days, inter-school competitions, and cultural events. There is a guarantee that printed hoodies for schools in Dubai are available for various kinds of events. They can therefore be worn casually or during formal school events, and students will have a comfortable way of expressing their pride at any given time.

Conclusion

Printed hoodies for schools in Dubai are not only casual wear but represent unity, pride, and belonging. Customizable and flexible, as well as useful and long-lasting, they make a fantastic choice to represent school spirit. They don't only attend sports tournaments or celebrate milestones of school but also follow their daily activities; students always take out a symbol of identity and community with themselves-printed hoodies.

[noisycowboyglitter]

"Planning the Ultimate 11 Year Old Monarch Butterfly Papillon Party"

At eleven years old, our young monarch butterfly enthusiast embodies the vibrant spirit and delicate beauty of the Danaus plexippus. Like the papillon they adore, this child stands at the edge of a great transformation, poised between childhood and the approaching teen years.

Buy now:19.95$

Their room is a testament to their passion, adorned with posters detailing the monarch's life cycle and migration patterns. Shelves burst with books on lepidoptera, while a carefully tended milkweed plant sits by the window, waiting for visiting monarchs.

With the energy of a butterfly in flight, this 11-year-old flits from one monarch-related activity to another. They might be found carefully painting delicate orange and black wings on rocks to create butterfly gardens, or excitedly explaining the importance of monarch waystations to anyone who will listen.

Their backpack, emblazoned with monarch motifs, carries not just school supplies but also a small notebook for recording butterfly sightings. Weekends often involve family trips to nearby parks or conservation areas, where our young naturalist leads the way, eagle-eyed for any flash of orange wings.

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As they grow, so does their understanding of environmental issues. This budding conservationist can eloquently discuss the challenges facing monarch populations, showing a maturity beyond their years when it comes to their favorite subject.

In many ways, this 11-year-old mirrors the monarch butterfly - beautiful, resilient, and embarking on an incredible journey of growth and discovery.

As she turns 11, the birthday girl stands on the cusp of adolescence, a blend of childlike excitement and growing maturity. Her smile radiates confidence as she celebrates this special day, surrounded by friends and family.

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The party decorations reflect her evolving tastes - perhaps a mix of favorite characters and more sophisticated themes. She leads her friends in games and conversations, showing glimpses of the young woman she's becoming.

Her cake, adorned with eleven candles, represents not just another year, but a step closer to her dreams and aspirations. As she blows out the flames, there's a sense of anticipation for the adventures that lie ahead.

This 11th birthday marks a significant milestone - a celebration of her unique personality, blossoming interests, and the exciting journey into her preteen years.

Butterfly gifts capture the delicate beauty and symbolism of these enchanting creatures. A butterfly-themed jewelry box might house treasures, while a set of colorful enamel butterfly pins adds whimsy to any outfit. For the garden enthusiast, a butterfly-shaped bird bath

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or a collection of butterfly-attracting flower seeds brings life to outdoor spaces. Art lovers might appreciate a framed butterfly print or a handcrafted stained glass butterfly suncatcher. For younger recipients, a butterfly kite or a grow-your-own butterfly garden kit offers both fun and education. These gifts celebrate transformation, grace, and the wonders of nature.