#stinging nettle anon

[thebasilbuffet]

OOC: screw it, Nettie is now in an eternal state of questioning his/their/her/its gender.

- Nettie (Stinging Nettle)

Oh nooo the eternal questioning... an ancient method of torture .... /lh

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Tumblr needs more soup discourse! For some reason I'm way more certain Vinelle has a soup recipe than I am that you do (do you even soup, bro?) but that's nonsense because I don't actually know either of you and I *probably* don't have a psychic gift for detecting good soup recipes (recruit me Volturi!)

Anyways do you have a favorite soup? I'm partial to tom yum soup, but I always look up the recipe online. The best soup I ever made was from stinging nettles, but sadly that recipe is lost to us.

Hope you're having a soup-er day,

Anon.

@therealvinelle has discussed soup here.

I do soup with the caveat that I don't have any super secret ancient grandmother's soup and I'm not good enough of a cook to come up with shit entirely from scratch.

But here's one of my favorite soups that I've made recently (recipe from magazine).

Per the recipe:

Hot and Sour Soup with Shrimp

Time: 35 minutes

Serves: 4

Ingredients

3 cups chicken broth

1/2 cup sliced mushrooms

1 tablespoon soy sauce (don't cheap out, get the good kind)

1 8oz can of sliced bamboo shoots, drained

2.5 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

1 tsp white pepper

1.5 lbs medium raw shrimp peeled and deveined

8oz firm tofu, drained and cut into 1 inch cubes

1 tablespoon corn starch (or xanthum gum/other thickening agent)

2 tablespoons water

1 large egg white, beaten

2 tablespoons chopped scallions

2 tablespoon chili oil

Steps

Combine broth, mushrooms, soy sauce, and bamboo shoots in a large sauce pan and bring to a boil

Reduce heat and simmer 5 minutes

Add lemon juice, white pepper, shrimp, and tofu to pan

Bring to a boil

Cook 2 minutes or until shrimp is almost done

Combine corn starch/thickening agent with water in a small bowl stirring until smooth

Add thickening mixture to pan

Cook 1 minute stirring constantly with a whisk

Slowly drizzle egg white into pan, stirring constantly

Remove from heat

Stir in scallions and chili oil

[cgogs]

then literally why can't you denounce dream and his stans it's not that hard

Ok fine rundown under the cut

Look at these pictures of nettle she is my c!awesamdream baby from a very long au and she is so very special.. she likes to play pretend with tea sets and she loves snakes bc when she was little she got bit by a snake and got very sick for a week and almost died and when she woke up she developed a fascination for poison and also a boosted immune system. Shes a huge daddys girl but she also loves her mom so so much (dream is called mom because his first child briar just started calling him it one day and he rolled with it) but they have a complicated relationship because dream is really, really depressed and is deeply unhappy with his life and how trapped he feels :(

He still loves his daughter so much tho so so much. Her name is sort of matchy with briar as well (hes the c!dnf baby) so its like yk, dream is only capable of producing stinging things... briar and nettle :] its also a reference to a fairytale called the 7 swans where briar references sleeping beauty.

Here's some more pictures of her w her parents

Do u like her anon

[unhonestlymirror]

Anonymous: Hi all! My boyfriend stings his dick with bees. I'm shocked. He tells me that this is how he prepares for our meetings. I didn’t know about this, but now I have found out. Has anyone had this type of experience? Please share your opinion.

Ukraine: We need the photo!!!

Estonia: Is this self-medication, or are there already offices with such services?

Belarus: The bee is already on the verge of extinction. If you are abroad, call wildlife rescue or animal protection.

Latvia: Offer him wasps, at least they are reusable, and they will definitely make him plump and last for a long time☝️☝️☝️

Belarus: What about anaphylactic shock???

America: In Texas, they use old scorpions for this; their venom is milder than young ones.

Lithuania: I understand that this has nothing to do with the case, but what country does anon live in?

Ukraine: Do you need a visa there?) I suppose you should have a black and yellow suit with you

Bulgaria: Anon, you recently asked why he doesn’t have an erection when you have one! Here is your answer!👌😂

Poland: Because anon is not a bee?

Finland: I'm worried: what does anon do in winter? Advise him to switch to nettle wraps - you can even grow it in boxes in winter.

[textingtroublesanswers]

Truueee, but I'm sure you gotta wash them first at least!

*They can't help the teasing smile that creeps back in their face as they listen to James' story.*

Hey. Hey Jamie. What tasted better, the crayon or the nettle?

-🐈anon

(NOOO THAT SOUNDED HORRIBLE, they had stinging nettles on the grassy fields by our primary school yard. Kids would get in trouble for walking through there on top of feeling the pain, I can't imagine just how bad it'd be to feel it in your mouth!!)

Mod B: I'm lucky I never actually put it in my mouth. The pain in my hand stopped me before I could have a proper chomp

"Crayon." He says, almost immediately.

[poltergeist-coffee]

IT'S PLAYING INFAME(brazilian song by supercombo+kamaitachi) ON PAC'S LIVE YEAAAH He's a bit traumatized, just a tiny bit And it's raining (Thank you about the color thing lol) Cephea cephea, the jellyfish of the bissexuals There is aways a character that is associated as the sun in every media Qforever is one of them(pspsps fellow insaneduo enjoyer, you know, right? You know, the sun and the moon- one of the qcellbit's hc that exists is that he is a vampire, he really goes with that vibe of gothic emo- y'know that I'm trying to say) And oh gosh BRAZILIAN ALERT PAC ENTERED THE TRAIN STATION That's my streamer AND IT'S PLAYING MICHAEL JACKSON

And the chat is going insane, they have so much trust issues with bbh And Pac will be a vampire for hallowen:D He's telling bbh and he just "you know what's vampire are known for, right?" "Drinking blood?" "Yeah" "I'm not a big fan of blood, I prefer meat"

Most normal conversation bettwen them They are getting along

"Homo-sapian version of whiter bear" -Pac 2023

Uh... Bbh is planning a vacation to Pac? Okay, chat is freaking out From Bbh's pov, Pac is a cute lil guy, from Pac's pov bbh is very sus Someone on the chat just asked "Why is Bad so suspect with everyone but cell?" Good question, next I went to Etoiles' live for a single second and there's was a chaos happening Ofc he was fighting And is playing metal(or rock? I don't really know the difference, but I looked it up and is To Be Loved by Papa Roach, I liked it) I don't undertand a word he's saying but this will be what will be playing on my background That man has so many arrows on him

(Also, I need you at some point to look on google "hmmm vrido" I dunno, it's just funny) AND NOW IS PLAYING ENEMY BY IMAGINE DRAGON YEAAH

Alright, jellyfish:D I think they are the Pacific Sea Nettle(Chrysaora fuscescens) because I think the antlantic ones are more transparent. The bell is yellowish or reddish-brown with a darker margin. The bell diameter can be up to 30 cm (1 ft) with oral arms reaching as long as 1 m (3.3 ft). Oral arms can reach 3.6-4.6 m (12-15 ft). However, ton average, the sea nettles are are usually smaller. But here's a fun fact about the name, the genus name of sea nettle jellies, Chrysaora, comes from Greek mythology. Chrysaor, reportedly a giant, was the son of Poseidon and Medusa. His name translates as ‘golden falchion’. A falchion was a commonly used curved fighting sword that could cut through armor, a reference to the stinging ability of these jellies.

I think I saw other jellyfish but I can't find it right now I will see if I can find any other later - Plate anon

me giggling and kicking my feet thinking about qforever and qcellbit being sun and moon coded they're so sun and moon i love everything about them im going to throw them out the window affectionetly

tbh chat is valid for having trust issues with qbbh u-u he hasn't been very nice to pac so.....

PAC BEING A VAMPIRE FOR HALLOWEEN WOULD BE SO CUTE :"DD my art of him and forever with vampire pac is so canon now lets goooooo (ignore that forever is still missing yahooooooo) (I HEARDD THAT FOREVER GOES HOME TOMORROW THO?? HE MIGHT BE HERE FOR THE EVENT SATURDAY!!!!)

"I'm not a big fan of blood, I prefer meat" well cellbit likes both so....uhm....

WHEN I WAS ON PAC'S STREAM EARLIER I SAW THE ADMINS HAD A POLL ASKING CHAT IF THEY THINK CELLBIT WILL COME BITE PAC'S OTHER LEG OFF JASNVDKJSDAJKVAN I LOVE THEM

"Why is Bad so suspect with everyone but cell?" maybe because cellbit has known him the longest...? i don't know asndvjksda that's so silly tho i love that for qbbh

etoile was doing a dungeon for the Resistance >:DD he was getting lore and i heard that he got his ticket from the dice minigame thing so HE CAN JOIN EVERYONE ON SATURDAY IF THE TICKETS ARE IMPORTANT!!! LET'S GOOOOOOO!!!!

"hmmmm vrido" f!cell eating people

...okay anyways JELLYFISH!! I've seen the pacific sea nettles before when i visit an aquarium sort of near where I live :DD they're common around where i live i guess? they're very pretty. i didn't know that about their name!!! that's so cool >:OO the marine biologist who named this jellyfish must have been a nerd lol /aff

[liquid-geodes]

You'd look so nice covered in stinging nettles

I was just thinking about you murder anon

[papillonaskblog]

I have been sitting here seething reading your comments, “nude anon”. Respectfully, I cannot take it any longer.

Of course clothes are a requirement! Not only is it illegal to go outside without at least the bare minimum coverings on, but also socially unacceptable in the eyes of probably 99% of the population! //ooc source: trust me

Clothes are what make us unique. Sure, we have tattoos and piercings and other ways of expression, but even those will become boring and respective. You can only have so many colours and shapes of piercings, you can only have so many colours of ink… But clothes are endless! They have texture, colour, shape- the list could go on. Clothes are a form of art, the soul of a tailor who has spent hours and weeks of their blood, sweat and tears crafting a dress or suit. Are you honestly going to put the metaphorical middle finger up at such creators with these sorts of blasphemous words!?

The way that someone dresses dictates how you perceive them. If you saw someone wearing chains and heavy, black boots, you’d think “oh, they’re probably not very nice”. It’s our culture, and again, how we express ourselves. Without clothes, we would all be plastic clones with nothing better to differentiate ourselves but our names and words!

Not to mention that clothes also act as a barrier to the elements- cold, heat, rain- it’s basically like armour. Where we as people lack scales, fur or feathers, we have clothes. They can also protect us from harm and toxins such as wearing long, thick sleeves against stinging nettles. I don’t think you’d want to go into a forest full of brambles and nettles fully nude, if you could help it. You’d at least want something on. Hats and sunglasses also protect us from the sun’s harsh glare-! Are you actually going to go out into the middle of the 60*C Sumeru desert with NOTHING on!?

Things such as belts also have loops which we can attach bags to, making us able to carry more things. With nothing on, you only have your two hands and your mouth. Your head if your skilled enough, and your legs if you don’t need to walk. Most the time, people bring bags with them if they need to go somewhere. If you’re not putting it on your shoulders, then you’re putting it around your waist or on a belt. Take Amber from Monsdadt (sorry for the spelling) for example! She has a bag attached to her belt- essential for her patrols, I assume!

The average lifespan of a person is somewhere around 80 years or so, and many people live much beyond that. //again, trust me. Taking at least 10 minutes of your morning routine to put clothes on is not going to cut your time so much that it would be better off risking social isolation and / or prison.

As both the son of a seamstress and a cobbler, and an esteemed tailor myself, I find deep offence in your words. I wish you a nice, CLOTHED day.

Are clothes a requirement?

- nude anon

I would prefer that you were dressed if I were to meet you, nude anon

[beauleifu]

I like kiwis BUT DAMN THEY TASTE SO SOUR- My tastebuds are burning from the taste. But,,,imma side with the kiwi team because it’s cute😌✊

DAMN kiwi anon you got another soldier TREAT THIS ONE WELL OR ELSE

*gives you water and hugz before sending you out into the battle*

fare thee well, my fren

[thebasilbuffet]

https://www.tumblr.com/thebasilbuffet/766487731244335104/man-i-wish-some-of-the-other-flowers-were-here-to

OOC: Same. Should I assign a gender to Nettie? I’ve been avoiding giving them pronouns (they/them or otherwise) since I was never sure what they should be

- Nettie (Stinging Nettle)

Do you wanna assign it a gender? Me and Basil don't care either way though I will start calling it transgender if you do

[fallenclan]

An Otter's Song

a fucking FANTASTIC poem by dice anon!!! he submitted it and asked for it to be posted, so he could stay on anon, so I will put it under the cut :) it's SO fucking good holy shit

An Otter's Song

He wasn’t known for his knowledge, ever.

A kitten, adopted by

Scorching skies and stinging nettles, 

was known.

He was perceived 

And seen. 

He existed.

  Ivy leaves curled around his chest once

Suspicion making his eyes water.

Flashes of lanky reeds drifting in the breeze

And ivy leaves snaking through his bones.

  The scorching skies and nettles protected.

The kitten, happy

Began his journey.

A crow’s feather in his paw

A grin on his face

And those eyes.

Yellow, gleaming white and blue in the sun.

The scorching skies once remarked it was akin to the light

Of the brightest fire in the sky

Glimmering across a frozen landscape

  The sky cracks momentarily

And tears fall.

Nettlestem’s eyes, wide with fear.

Dog bites, huge and deep, cover her body.

The kitten, aged enough to grieve right, weeps.

  His mama has passed

And it’s the first time he’s seen his mother cry.

  Otterpaw wasn’t known for knowledge, ever.

He was seen as a playful cat 

but one laced with a deep-cutting sadness.

He was perceived and seen.

He didn’t think he could exist like he had before

But he’d survive.

Not live, but survive.

  Maple leaves covered his pelt

And the sun freckled the ground where he trained.

Training upon the cliff sides of the peak

He almost slips.

He gazes behind him and sees it for the first time

Practically stalagmites, the stones rise upward as if

To touch the stars

  The distraction gives Maplethorn 

A chance to dodge the next strike

Otterpaw almost falls, unbalanced.

Maple leaves push him back up from the cliff sides

And save him from those unforgiving spires.

  A golden lion stands atop a stone

And gazes down upon him.

He is perceived in this moment

But not understood.

  Otterslip.

He runs quickly, and was named for that.

But all he can think of are those rocks

That spiral up and down.

That pierces his dreams

And makes them bleed.

  He runs and runs and runs and runs and–

An eagle’s call stabs into his heart.

The sun almost blinds him

And he practically falters.

  He rips and rends into its flesh and feathers

And it falls.

The sky rushes around him as 

He panics to get to his paws.

It feels horrible and the wind

Seems to be punishing him.

  The sun blinds him.

The scorching sky does nothing.

Waltzes past without real care.

  Blood stains Scorchstar’s mind.

Her scream is still echoing in her ears.

Reverberating and curling around her mind.

She cannot and will not

Forget it.

  Otterslip was a fast cat, able to scale the cliff sides, 

Quietly,

Quickly,

And efficiently.

He had to. 

It could be a life or death moment.

Something snaps as hail beats down on him

And he lets it.

The scorching skies have 

Stopped giving him warmth.

  In her final gasping moments

She confesses to her son.

She killed the sun and snuffed it’s flames

And she made sure nobody knew.

He watches her, expression blank.

There was time to get help,

But Scorchstar refused it to make things right 

With the stars.

She will remain among them in death

And he will not.

  He snakes among the grasslands, claws out.

He needs to be angry

And to let it all out.

He hunts for a cat to hurt, and finds none.

  Although, he does find three kittens

And they are hidden with plants.

Grass sways in the breeze, thick with dewdrops.

Yew berries dip low, heavy with their own weight.

Ivy, like before, winds upward. 

It is not within his bones. It never will be.

  He was perceived and seen. 

He existed.

And he will make sure he is known.

  A storm rumbles high above.

Whispers curling around his ears.

The wind rushes around him

Like before,

But now it is tainted with hostility.

Eyes blink open around him.

  He is witnessed

And he is monstrous.

  A dog’s snapping jaws, foam dripping red around it’s

Slobbering jaws.

Grasses torn up

Roots dislodged and ravaged.

Ivy leaves curling around

Weeping and crying.

Yew berries 

Dripping with dewdrops and tears.

  A dog has ruined his life.

The wounds of Nettlestem are seared into his eyes.

The gasping breaths of Scorchstar are whistling in his ears.

The scent of that crimson blood of Grassroot  in his nose.

  He lashes out, and the cliffsides rise up to greet him.

The storm rumbles, but ceases.

It’s screech echoes around the stones

It’s eyes stare as the sickening

CRACK

Echoes around the land.

He tastes iron on his tongue.

The storm has ceased.

Like his mother before him had snuffed out

The sun.

  He runs.

He was named for his speed.

He stumbles.

Slipping on his past.

His eyes, once honored for their beauty

Are bloodshot as he yowls out.

The golden lion watches, horrified.

  Like before

Otterslip is witnessed.

He is seen.

He will never be understood.

His flesh, destined to be meat and bone

And nothing else.

Otters are predators after all.

They must be dealt with.

  The lion roars

And he runs.

He feels the thick light of the sun on his back

And he cannot tell if it is the damnation of Sunwish

Or the regret of his mother.

It doesn’t last long though.

Rain begins to beat down, thick and heavy.

Bulging with regret and woven with the scent of smog.

  And those eyes.

Yellow, gleaming white and blue in the sun.

The scorching skies once remarked it was akin to the light

Of the brightest fire in the sky

Glimmering across a frozen landscape.

  The fire is gone

Smoldering.

There are dancing colors in his vision.

Bismuth in nature and reflecting off each other.

He cannot remember where he is.

Blood stains his paw.

He shifts it, and pain fires up through his leg.

  His leg aches.

The stones around him are gleaming with

That shimmering crimson.

That crimson that stains every moment of his life.

He looks back on his memories, operose.

  Viscera and gristle stain his mind

And he feels guilt.

He does not know if he should.

The sanguineous nature of the clans

Stain his judgment, clouding it.

He is blind

And he is exactly what StarClan wants in a victim.

  He stands before the stars.

Their judging gaze pierces him.

  He is witnessed.

He is truly seen.

Every aspect of his life, examined.

Every action, weighed and debated upon.

The scorching skies say nothing.

The stinging nettles accuse her son of those crimes.

  He will not get a chance to defend himself.

The stars will never understand him

And he will not try to get them to.

  He doesn't understand himself.

All he knew is that there was a storm.

And that it beat down and oppressed him

And its winds spread lies.

But it was gone.

It’s eyes and lies

Dead by his own paw.

  He is witnessed.

The trees branches wind around him

Bark snapping and curving around his pelt.

He screams.

  He thrashes.

He cannot escape.

He speaks to another cat, one last time.

  “I’m sorry! I’ll do anything, please!”

Stormsight watches, guilt clear in his eyes.

Otterslip screams.

Sinewy strength beats back at the branches.

  “Let me see my daughter! I want to say goodbye!”

Grassroot does not appear.

Otterslip, lachrymose to a pathetic extreme

Wails for his life.

“Let me try to be better!”

  The branches tug at his pelt.

“I’ll do good!”

Thorns stab into his brown pelt.

  “This is not mercy!”

He screeches and sobs.

“This is DESECRATION!”

He roars.

  The trees claim him.

His fatal wounds bleed

With a thick dark fluid.

It is practically oozing from his pelt

And from his open flesh.

There will be no storms here.

There will never be any sun

And no plants will sprout.

  The ivy leaves that once woven around his bones have died.

The stinging nettles in his fur have shriveled.

The scorching sky has ceased its warmth.

The grasses, unrooted before, are gone.

The yew berries have rotten.

The ivy around his paws has crumbled.

  He walks onward.

The red forest follows.

Its silence is oppressive.

  A crow’s call makes his ears perk.

He looks up

And a new sight is before him.

A hazy image of the sky 

And unfamiliar cats.

He turns away, lashing his tail at it.

He feels some of his feathers slip from his tail

And he turns to pick them up.

  The image is gone, and so have the feathers.

Realization slams into him.

He is dead

But he still has power among the living.

And he will have to use it

To live again.

  He was once witnessed

And he will inflict that pain upon another.

  i wrote a snippet of this as propaganda for the favorite cat poll but then realized that it was actually turning out okay, so i finished it :3

[oh-boy-me]

Hell's Kitchen and Nightmare?

Hell’s Kitchen: What’s your regular coffee/tea order?

≫ I don’t like coffee, so I guess my coffee order is “please don’t give me coffee” lol. As for tea, my go-to is peppermint tea, very strong, with no cream and no sugar.

Nightmare: Share your favorite demon/memory card!

≫ Oh hmm, I haven’t thought about it recently but I think these are good contenders for my favorites!

As you can probably tell I don’t own the memory card yet, so this is purely based off of aesthetic.

Obey Me! themed ask meme here!

[enbies-and-felonies]

wait did you know that you can eat stinging nettle? theyr sooo fuckin gooooddd. okay so yknow how kale is rlly good for you? but it tastes like shit so nobody wants to eat it it? well stinging nettle is better for you than kale. but it tastes like spinich???

-💊

really?!???? like it’s GOOD?!???? and like i know kale is good for you but i REALLY hate the texture

[foxflightly]

Woo! First nettle sting today! Worse than I thought it would be and also not as bad as I thought it could be?? Makes sense? Anyway, got some beauts for a tincture, and cleavers are in flower too so I got those. So excited!!

[darthmaulification]

Hey! Can I please make a request for a short Drabble where reader is Grogu’s nanny aboard the Razor Crest and Din develops a crush on her, but once he and the reader start visiting Grogu at Jedi School on weekends, Luke develops a crush as well? Doesn’t have to end up with either, but I would like to see either guy’s rivalry and slight jealousy (with Reader’s obliviousness).

A/N: ... okay so, i really got into the whole crush aspect of your request, anon, and this basically became a romantic prose piece. when i looked back to see what you had initially wanted, my product was... about thrice removed from the original prompt. 💀

i think i got some of the points??? like there’s din and luke and they’re both in love with reader and they both have a bit of rivalry with the other and basically that’s what matters??? please forgive me, anon, the ghost of sappho took my body over and forced me to write yearning love poetry!! 🙏 sis forced my hand!! 😭

though if there’s enough interest for it, i can always make a follow up for this, like from reader’s perspective, and write something a lil more in depth (once i get requests finished up that is). 😊

hope you enjoy! 💗

content: nothing but din and luke pining for reader, gn!reader (for the most part), use of she/her pronouns, fluff, but also a smidgen of angst 👁👁, perspective difference!!, kind of a commentary on mandalorian and jedi culture?? (mostly jedi culture lmao)

word count: 1,524

You’re beautiful.

He sees it now how your face lights up like candles being lit when his son succeeds at doing another one of his Jedi tricks. Joy illuminates your face like a spotlight, your soft cheers and kind praise make the whole room warmer. Din watches Grogu leap into your arms, cooing and squealing like he’s been given candy. It makes Din’s heart leap when you kiss his son on the head, and smile so warmly it’s like your lips become sunshine.

Din is infinitely grateful for his helmet in this moment, his face feels like it’s been too close to a fire. His fingers pick at a fraying stitch on his gloves, to prevent his hands from shaking in his lap. He hopes that the Jedi, who is standing casually across the room near you and Grogu, doesn’t notice. Din hopes you don’t notice what you’re doing to him.

I’m in love. 

The sentence slips through the cracks of his thoughts the way a sunrise peeks over the horizon. You look over at him, holding up Grogu triumphantly in your hands like you would a prize, and he sucks in a breath because suddenly it feels like all he can see is you. You and Grogu, you and his son.

Please be my riduur.

“Did you see that? Wasn’t it amazing?” And Din forces himself to dip his head in a slight nod, because the Jedi is also looking at him with piercing blue eyes the color of the sky. His heart pounding, and when you laugh, and it sounds like summertime when everything is good and happy.

People love, he thinks as he stares at you, and suddenly his palms are sweaty and he feels the need to tap his foot, but Mandalorians love harder.

I dream about you every night, think about you when I lie awake. You’re always holding sunflowers, and the nightmares don’t touch me then.

Mandalorians love like there is nothing else in the universe more valuable, nothing more precious, not their vibroblades, their blasters, or even their beskar.

Giving up a blaster and a vibroblade in order to save you from that hut’uun came to me like breathing, I didn’t even think about it... I would’ve given up my beskar’gam too. I still would.

Mandalorians love with their souls laid bare, they love with their entire body, they love with sacred vows, exchanged beskar rings, their riduur’s name engraved on their hal’cabur, above their heart.

When you slept beside me one night, I whispered the entire marriage vow to you in Mando’a. You looked so peaceful bathed in the light of the moon, the silvery glow making you look holy. I’ll admit, it came out mostly accidentally, but it felt so normal, natural even. I wish you hadn’t been asleep.

Mandalorians love in spite of death, they love in the face of it. They love like warriors.

I had gotten shot. All I remember is you holding me in your arms, hands pressed over the wound. I was in pain, and you were crying, covered in blood and dirt, but you were so warm. I’m still unsure if I had actually said what I think I said:

“I care about you too much to leave you.”

He wants to tell you all of this, but he’s never been much of a romantic, or much of a speaker in general, so the words falter on his tongue each time he’s tried. And Din’s tried so many times. You say something to the Jedi, and it makes a sudden, surprising fury bubble in his chest, the vile rising to his throat. Din has to bite his tongue to hold back from shouting:

Don’t talk to her, di’kut jetii! You are undeserving of her words, of her time, of her presence. Unworthy! You can’t give her what I can, shabuir.

You look over at him again, and the hot anger dies completely, leaving him powerless before you. Din felt this way each time he’s tried to tell you how much you mean to him.

I love you, cyare.

It feels like your eyes are boring holes straight through his beskar, through his flight suit, singing his skin with their warmth. Din bites his cheek so hard he tastes copper.

You smile. It’s like the dawn.

You are the sun— His sun— of his universe, and his eyes burn from the light.

Din basks in the rays, and his heartbeat starts to slow to it’s normal, steady rhythm.

Tomorrow. I’ll tell you tomorrow.

~

You’re beautiful.

He sees it now in how your entire expression blooms into one of pure joy when his padawan successfully levitates the crates. It radiates in your aura, the waves of mirth traveling further than your respectfully quiet cheers and meaningful praise. Luke watches as the child leaps into your embrace, babbling without forming any actual words. Something inside Luke lurches when you place a kiss on Grogu’s head, and when your vibrant smile dissolves his willpower.

Luke draws the Force in on himself, welcoming the sturdiness it brings. He tries to ignore how his palm has gotten sweaty, but he clenches his hand into a fist and hastily relaxes it. Focus, let in calmness like a breeze. Luke hopes that the Mandalorian, sitting stiff and looming on a far bench, doesn’t notice his moment of vulnerability. He pulls the Force closer, and hopes you don’t notice what you’re doing to him.

I’m in love.

The thought springs up in his mind the way shoots of new grass breach top soil in spring time. You glance over at him as you lift the child, and the look is as quick and fleeting as blossoms on trees, but it floats in the Force like dandelion seeds, and Luke is painfully aware of how consuming you are.

Please don’t do this to me.

“Did you see that? Wasn’t it amazing?” And Luke catches your eye, offering you the smallest smile he can afford without it breaking. You look to the Mandalorian, and Luke follows your gaze because he can’t compel himself to do much else. The Mandalorian’s visor is dark like the night, and flashes when he nods his head. Luke feels his heart sink when he senses it from him, a yearning so deep he nearly drowns in it.

People love, Luke thinks and he feels all at once envious and angry and so achingly acquiescent, because Jedi cannot.

I swore by the Code years ago, but I look at you and doubt it all. It can’t be that I’m this willing to rethink everything.

Jedi are forbidden from having attachments, they cannot pursue romantic interests. Love leads to passion, and it all is an influence of the Dark. Luke knows this. He’s fallen to it before.

I’ve spent decades forgetting how deeply I cared for him! But I am reminded daily of my father, every time I look in the mirror, I see his eyes. How dare you pull me back into this cruel trap! I can’t do this again.

Luke contains himself. Jedi value peace of mind, they extend the sentiment to upholding it in the galaxy as well. They do not do it out of love, but out of obligation, out of honor, because of what’s right. They are not love.

When I first met you it was like I’d seen you before, in a past life. It was like retracing my steps, following the trail backwards, revisiting something I had passed. Despite it all, I had moved forward and took my padawan from you and the Mandalorian, plucked him from you like a petal off a flower. I watched you wilt.

Luke reminds himself. Jedi do not love. Focus is key. The Force is everything.

But you are too.

Luke has to swallow in order to make sure the words never reach his mouth, and it’s like eating thorns. You turn back to him and the look in your eyes is tender like butterfly wings. The pink in your cheeks reminds Luke of windflowers.

“Thank you again, Luke,” His soul shivers when his name sounds in your voice, “It’s so kind of you to teach Grogu.”

As he replies and tells you it’s a pleasure, he almost spills everything to you, but an abruptness shifts the energy of the room. There is a lurking anger that crawls at him through the Force, entwines him like ivies. The Mandalorian fumes, the wrath trembles like billowing leaves. Don’t. Undeserving. Unworthy.

Luke forces himself to agree and squashes down everything, pushing each painful emotion into the deepest parts of him. He watches you look to the Mandalorian, your aura flowers with affection, love.

I love you.

His resolve is fading, again. Luke reminds himself, again. Jedi do not love. Jedi do not love. Jedi do not love.

You smile, and it stings his soul like nettle.

Luke forces himself to ignore that your eyes say different things when they settle on the Mandalorian than they had him. The thought feels like eating bittersweet berries.

Briefly, he revels in what could have been.

It’s for the best.

~

A/N: i thought i would add another note at the end of this to explain exactly what the heck i was saying with the word soup i just wrote.

first, din is so hopelessly in love with reader that it hurts. like physically makes his heart ache. i feel that when din falls in love, he falls in love. it consumes him. i wrote a lot of sun/light imagery to portray the overwhelming, all-encompassing love din feels for reader. you are the sun that warms him, and burns him. 

second, i purposely made luke have an even more tragic, even more conflicted crush on reader, on purpose, hahaha i am evil. 😈 he loves you, but forces himself not to. he tells himself that the jedi code means more. luke chooses to suffer because he knows that’s how it must be. there’s some plant/nature symbolism thrown throughout because that’s just the theme that i thought vibed with luke the most.

and that mention of anakin? i subscribe to the headcanon that luke really did love his dad, and just wanted him in his life, but of course, vader ultimately died. luke took a heavy blow from that, learned it hurts to love.

also, regarding the mini-rivalry that takes place, it’s through the force (if that wasn’t obvious) and it’s essentially another example of luke surrendering his own wants/desires and simultaneously din firmly declaring his love for you. it’s kinda meant to be the “understanding” between the two that clearly establishes who “wins” the reader.

... this was all one giant metaphor, huh?

[textingtroublesanswers]

He was just showing you a flower, Fritz! Not like he bit you and gave you rabies.

Look at him, he...oh....

*They give Emil a confused stare as they watch the baby make a snack out of the daisy.*

Buddy, flowers aren't snacks-

-🐈anon

Mikhail sighs, "маргаритка flower is safe to eat. Maria did same thing couple days ago."

James shrugs, "I ate a stinging nettle as a kid once. If those are edible, why not daisies, right?"

"Did it sting?"

"Did what sting?"

"Stinging nettle?"

"Oh, yeah! Hurt like hell, I tell ya!"