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maconthepen · 7 months

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What a bagel taught me about how to live.

There's a small grocery shop at the end of my street.

When I say small, I mean tiny. In fact, I often avoid it on Saturdays. Not being the smallest person in stature, I tend to get stuck awkwardly on boxes of fruit the owners haven't unpacked. All would be forgiven and fine if not for the withering stares of the designer activewear crowd who, like circling sharks, single me out as Not One of Their Own. Saturdays just aren't made for that kind of negativity, so I tend to make myself scarce.

But the staff in the shop are lovely and they pride themselves on stocking the best baked goods in the area. Specifically, their bagels. It's no word of a lie. Those bagels stand tall and proud, whether they're plain, poppyseed, sesame, or blueberry. If a food had a sixth sense that it was about to be bought and devoured, these bagels would have it. If I were to get hopelessly anthropomorphic about it, I'd say they exuded smugness. I can't blame them. Were I that perfectly formed, I'd be smug too.

The kicker is that they aren't stocked every day, and today I really, really wanted one. I wanted to pile it high with cream cheese and salmon and to garnish it with care, like it came from a cafe. The idea fixated itself as soon as I was awake, and I couldn't stop thinking about it.

The grocery shop was bagel-less.

Instead, trying to delude myself into believing I could salvage the situation, I went to my local chain supermarket and bought a subpar pack. Little did I know how subpar they would be. My lunch in the picture above looks amazing — and its toppings were exceptional — but underneath was a blasphemous affair. These were the worst bagels I'd bought in my life. They were small and dense and probably overbaked, and I missed the high, chewy, pillowy goodness of the ones from down the street.

Make no mistake: I ate, and I was grateful for the food, but this exceedingly ordinary experience taught me a lesson I've been halfway to learning in the past few weeks:

Everything has its season.

I'm still learning to go with those seasons. A long bout of depression has meant that, for months, I haven't been especially keen on leaving the house. I've delegated all grocery shops to delivery services from major supermarkets, and when the fresh produce that arrived in stiff paper bags seemed bland and tasteless, I assumed it was the fault of my taste buds.

Little did I know, until I started on antidepressants and began going to counselling again, how fine a thing it was to wander out into the world — to the market, the park, the small grocery shop down the street — and really see what was there. To smell the in-season fruit. To taste air that wasn't stale. To buy bagels one day and almond croissants the next, because that's what the world is offering up, and it was finite, so I'd best enjoy it while it lasts. I've been cooking with the weather again, taking care to make soup on cold days and face-meltingly spicy, fresh salads when the sun is out.

I've been caring for myself better, but I have also been caring more about the world. In doing so, the world and I feel back in sync. The people in it feel closer. About a week ago, buoyed by all the new conversations I've been having with people, I realised that I didn't know the name of the man who owned the grocery shop along the street. For years, surrounded by a fog of my own brain's making, I hadn't asked.

It turned out his name was Dan. He asked mine in return, and I told him.

"You're lucky this morning," he said, smiling his usual warm and genuine smile. "That's the last of the sesame ones."

Then, as I was leaving the shop, he called: "Oh, I nearly forgot! You're a Swans fan, aren't you? Good luck today."

Bewildered, I turned back around to face him. It was footie finals season. I wasn't wearing my team's scarf, but I had been some months ago when I dropped in for a packet of chips on the way to the game. I'd been in and out of the shop in thirty seconds, but Dan remembered the scarf all the same.

I felt the hot sting of guilt return. I couldn't believe I'd never asked his name.

But then I recalled a visit on a freezing June day. Dan, nameless back then, had been rubbing his hands together near a small space heater under the counter. He'd been wearing a black and white hat.

I ventured, "We might be playing the 'pies next week. Here's to both our teams making it through."

He nodded. "Sounds like the perfect occasion for a loaded bagel and a beer."

It was a Saturday. I wish I could say the activewear crowd parted like the red sea, but they just looked on, as impatient as ever as I left through the shop's sliding door. The sun was out. It was a beautiful day — the kind that still felt like a novelty after a long winter — and I realised I didn't give a shit what anyone thought of me. I had Dan's name and his bagels, and my life was in a season of joy.

#original writing #writing #mental health #recovery #my writing

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barbex · 2 years

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Sorry for being late on the prompts but I napped until the middle of the night and hope you're still taking prompts cause I love watching you update on AO3. I had to think really hard what single thing I was gonna request and !!. I think I'm going for "I wish you would write a fic where Anders is an anxious ball of energy from Fenris' threaths/jokes and begs him not to turn him in" ??? I'm not creative please I just love angsty Fenders where Anders expects the worst and Fenris is an angel

Thank you, dear Anon. This was really inspiring and resulted in 3400 words, oops! For @dadrunkwriting, fenders, Fenris x Anders, references to sexual abuse and prostitution.

I know for a fact that I've read a fic like that and I'm trying my utmost to not just copy what I remember from that fic.

---

Anders pulls his arm back, putting all of his not so significant weight into it, and punches the man on the nose. He crumbles with a truly pathetic wail and Anders shakes out is hand with a hiss.

Market days usually aren't like this. On normal days, when Anders goes to the market in Lowtown, he gets his goods and leaves again, with nobody commenting on the hood over his head or the "walking stick" he leans on, that definitely doesn't look like a mage's staff. Some people greet him as the healer, sell him their goods at a lower price because they remember the friend or family member he helped once, and then he goes back home to the clinic.

But today, a new group of people has set up shop at the market, traders from Antiva in direct competition with traders from Nevarra, and the atmosphere is already strenuous when Anders enters the market. And of course, things only get worse.

He's already on his way out, deciding, very wisely he would say, to get the herbs another day to avoid the commotion, but it's already too late. Tables tip over, tents collapse, fists are flying, and Anders is right in the middle of it. The first knife coming at his throat forces him to react and then he just tries to keep people at a distance to get away.

Someone grabs his arm and Anders whips around to strike, but a familiar voice has him stop. "Anders, what are you doing here?" Varric looks over his shoulder and raises his crossbow. Whoever tried to attack Anders' back clearly has no interest in interacting with Bianca the crossbow and retreats. Somewhere on the other side of the brawl, Hawke and Aveline yell once, twice. Most people stop fighting at that and walk away from each other with the kind of dazed and embarrassed look that people often have when they leave the Hanged Man.

Just one antivan trader does not know that it's time to settle down, and runs towards Anders, holding a club in his raised hand. That's when Anders breaks his nose.

Shaking his hand out, Anders takes stock of the situation. Multiple people have minor wounds but he'd be damned if he risks discovery in the middle of Lowtown to help these troublemakers. His wrist hurts. He'll need to find a quiet corner to heal himself first, anyway.

"You keep holding back, mage, why?"

Fenris' gravely voice is much too loud.

"Shhss, will you keep it down?" he hisses at Fenris. Right on time, templars appear at the entrance of the market. Of course, the trouble is already over and they don't need to risk denting their armor.

"Why?" Fenris looks at him, confused. "You never hide that you're a mage and an abomination."

"Why don't you yell a bit louder?" Anders snarls. "The templars didn't quite hear you." He looks over to the templar, his helmet slowly turning as he takes in the market. "You may not notice it, but I do hide, especially when I'm alone." He glares one last time at the elf and then waves at Varric and walks towards an alley that offers an unseen path back to Darktown's elevator. Turning to a wall in the shadows, he sends some healing into his throbbing wrist and sighs when the pain recedes.

"Mage."

How he didn't hear Fenris' approach, is a mystery for another time.

"Oh, for crying out loud. Must you announce this to the world every time you see me, slave?" Anders lets the glow of his magic die down and continues to walk down the narrow alley.

"You think you can forbid me to speak?" Fenris snarls. "I have to listen to your whining and you think you can order me to be quiet, mage?" He glares at Anders, his markings flickering.

For the first time in a long while, Anders is truly afraid. He's used to bullies, to people wanting to feel important, people who know they have power over him. But that's not what he sees in Fenris' face. All he can see is pure hatred. Fenris doesn't look for something to gain. Fenris just hates him.

"Sorry," he breathes out and turns and runs as fast as he can. He ducks into tiny alleys, secret passages that saved his ass before, through cellars and warehouses, until he reaches the rickety ladders leading down to Darktown. It's not as comfortable as the elevators, but safer. Hopefully. Nobody ever checks the holding brackets on these things.

He waves at the carta dwarf standing watch in front of the clinic, one of the regulars, protecting the clinic and him. He isn't sure if he owes this to Varric or to one of the carta leaders he treats in the clinic. When the door falls closed behind him, he breathes a sigh of relief. But, even with the protection outside, he can't quite shake the feeling that the problem with Fenris will keep festering like a wound. If Fenris decides he has enough of the mouthy mage, he can easily alert the templars somewhere where no carta will protect him and be done with him.

The next time Hawke drags them out on a job, he makes sure to stay far away from Fenris. If he doesn't speak to the elf, he won't get angry, so Anders keeps his mouth shut as best as he can.

Isabela bumps his arm. "What's the matter with you, Sparklefinger?"

"Wow, haven't heard that name in a long time."

"Back when you were still fun." Isabela pouts at him, as if he personally insulted her.

"Sorry, Izzy, but we all get older." He hooks his arm under hers and pulls her close. "So far I didn't need to look for a second job, but if I take up Madame Luisine's offer one day, you'll be the first to know."

Isabela giggles and presses a kiss to Anders' cheek. "It'll be just like old times."

"Yeah..." A wave of sadness settles over his head. He had been more carefree, back then. Even though his life and freedom were in danger every day, his worries were somehow smaller than today.

"You worked in a brothel?" Fenris' deep voice pulls him out of his memories.

"Yes," Anders answers quickly. "There aren't many jobs for —" He stops himself and shuts his mouth hard. If he starts talking about how shitty his life was, it'll only make Fenris angry and he can't risk that. "It was just a job." He grabs his staff tighter and hurries his steps to catch up with Hawke at the front, asking her about the job. When he looks over his shoulder, Fenris frowns at him.

Great, he still made him angry.

Hawke keeps them busy for four more days, running around on some sort of investigation that at least doesn't result in many injuries. On the third day, Anders asks to stay at the clinic, pointing out that his patients need him. "It's not like you're running into anyone dangerous in this investigation."

Hawke looks at him for a bit and then nods. "You're right. I'll ask Merrill."

"If anything happens, you know where to find me." Anders watches them leave, catching Fenris frowning at him, and he breathes a sigh of relief when they're all gone. Two days of tip-toeing around the elf, keeping his mouth shut and never mentioning anything that could be interpreted as whining, has used up all of his mental reserves.

He sits down on his rickety chair, rolls his shoulders, and lays out the ingredients for fresh health potions. At least he can use the time for something useful. That mellows the tiny sliver of guilt he feels for not accompanying Hawke and their friends.

A sharp whistle from outside has him jump, his chair tipping over. It's a warning from his carta protector. He grabs his medical bag, throws in his books, the vials of royal elfroot extract that cost him a fortune, and the two health potions he already prepared. Already he hears the clanging of armor outside of the rickety door of the clinic and he dives into the darkest corner of his room, where a pile of debris seems to have fallen from the ceiling. He lifts the whole thing up with the hidden trapdoor underneath, jumps in and pulls it closed above his head, just as he hears the front door splinter.

Pressing his bag to his chest, he breathes in the scent of leather and elfroot. He hates the darkness and he hates small spaces, but he hates the templars and the Circle even more, so he has to endure the first to avoid the latter.

For what feels like hours, Anders listens to the templars trampling through the clinic, smashing everything in their way. Potions fall from broken shelves, vials breaking and liquid seeping into the floorboards. It smells of herbs and alcohol, which is an improvement to the stank of Darktown, but Anders' heart breaks when he thinks how long he had to scrape all the things together that now get destroyed in minutes.

It's been quiet for a while now, but Anders doesn't dare to move. Templars can be very patient. One could wait outside, waiting for Anders to come out. He holds the bag to his chest, breathing as quietly as he can. Justice makes a soothing sound in his head, not quite a song, more like a hum, and it makes sitting still in the darkness a little easier to endure.

After a long time, footsteps come closer, running, storming into the clinic. "Anders?"

Hawke. It's Hawke.

"Creators, they broke everything," Merrill says, sounding like she's close to tears.

"Mage?"

Fenris, of course. Maybe checking if someone else solved his problem?

Anders pushes the trapdoor open and climbs out, making sure to hide it again, before he shoves the tattered curtain aside. "I'm here, they didn't find me."

"Andraste be blessed," Hawke cries out and pulls him into a hug. Merrill comes up to them and joins the hug and Anders feels like a weight falls from his shoulders.

With a long breath, Anders opens his eyes again and untangles himself from Hawke's and Merrill's arms. His gaze falls on Fenris and the blood freezes in his veins. Fenris looks angry, downright furious.

Anders' thoughts stumble over themselves. Did the elf expect something different? Is he disappointed that Anders wasn't taken? Did he send the templars himself, knowing that Anders was alone in the clinic? Fenris catches his gaze, and whatever shows on his face, it causes Fenris to turn on his heels and leave the clinic.

"Where did Fenris go?" Hawke asks after a while, as they pick up the salvageable pieces from the floor, bandages that just need a wash, vials that aren't broken by some miracle.

"I don't know." Anders sets a table on three legs and fishes the broken one out of the rubble. He finds a few nails and some other broken pieces and fixes the table leg with some well-placed nails and hits with his hammer. "Maybe he's disappointed that the templars didn't catch me."

"How can you say that?" Hawke stares at him. "Fenris would never —"

"He wouldn't?" Anders lets out a bitter huff. "He yells out that I'm a mage, an abomination, at every opportunity. It's just a matter of time until a templar hears him."

Hawke shakes her head. "That's not..."

Anders whips around. "That's not what?"

"He's been hurt."

"Everyone hurts in some way." Anders sets the table down too hard, nearly breaking the leg again. "But only he makes sure to tell me all the time what a pest I am and how all mages should be locked up or tranquil."

"He doesn't mean that." Hawke steps closer, looking at Anders' hands. "You're shaking."

"I think it's been a bit much, what with the raid and," he gestures at the destruction all around, "all of this."

"You're sleeping in one of the guest rooms tonight, come on," Hawke says, resolutely taking his arm. "We'll finish this tomorrow."

After a pleasant meal and some conversation that mentions neither templars nor Fenris, Anders lies in the luxurious bed in Hawke's mansion, staring at the painted ceiling. He can't sleep. His thoughts jump around, returning again and again to the way Fenris looked at him.

The elf clearly despises him. Even if he didn't tip off the templars this time, he could do it any time he likes. That threat will always hang over him. He has to do something about that. Placate Fenris somehow.

With a sigh, Anders sits up and puts on his trousers and shoes. Stepping quietly on the carpet, he can hear Hawke talk with Merrill in the library. He slips out with no one noticing him and stomps over to the dark, rotting mansion that Fenris occupies. He knocks on the door, and after waiting a while, opens it and steps inside.

"Fenris?"

"What do you want?" The voice comes from the hall in the centre of the house.

Anders walks in, stepping over the usual assortment of magically preserved corpses and mushrooms to reach the fireplace. Fenris sits in a stuffed chair in front of the fire, a half empty wine bottle in his hand, and glares at him. "What do you want, mage?"

"No, what do you want?" Anders tries to keep his voice hard and firm, despite his hands shaking behind his back. "I don't know if you sent the templars after the clinic today, but even if you didn't, you made it clear that you could any time."

Fenris jumps up. "Get out!"

"No." Anders widens his stance and crosses his arms over his chest. "Just tell me. You wanted to make me weary and anxious? Congratulations, you were successful. Now, just tell me what you want."

His heart beats too fast and he can't stop his hands from shaking, despite shoving them under his arms. Fenris just stares at him. Running out of options, Anders falls to his knees. "I don't have money, you know that, so please, tell me what I have to do. Do you want me to serve you on my knees? Clean your house? Suck your cock? Just tell me."

Fenris' eyes go wider with every word and he stumbles backwards, nearly tripping over the stuffed chair. "Don't say that, don't... why?"

"Why what?" Anders holds out his hands, ignoring the tears that drip from his eyes for some stupid reason. "Just tell me what you want. I can't live like this, wondering when you're gonna —"

"I would never!" Fenris' voice rattles the windows. "You think me this... this vicious? That I'm such a monster?"

"The monster is me, according to you." Anders stands up, slowly, wincing when his knee protests.

Fenris looks at his knee. "Why don't you heal your knee?"

Anders dismisses the question with a wave of his hand. "It's an old injury, a templar lesson." He sighs, looking up at the dirty skylight in the ceiling. "At any other time, I would just leave the city, but I can't, so please, just tell me —"

"I don't want anything from you."

"Great." Anders throws his hands up. "So I just have to wait for the day when a templar overhears you calling me mage or abomination and just like that you'll be rid of me. That's just great for my non-existent sleep patterns." His eyes fall on a table at the wall and he walks over, offering his last trump.

Shoving his pants down, he leans over the table and throws his coat over his back. "Here, you can fuck my ass. Fuck a mage, as hard as you can, wouldn't that be —" He grunts as Fenris presses against him, leaning over his back. His armor digs into his back and Anders shoves down all the dark memories that want to rise.

He can endure, he's done it before. It's just a little harder to breathe.

"No." Fenris breathes down his neck and then his weight leaves his back.

The air feels cold on his face, brushing over tears. He doesn't know when he started crying. Putting his clothes right, he glances at Fenris. "I know you hate me, but this is just cruel."

"I don't hate you." Fenris' voice is nearly too quiet.

"What?"

Fenris' head snaps around and he yells, "I don't hate you! I fear you, I fear your power."

"What power?" Anders yells back. "You have power. I couldn't even poke you before I would look at my own heart in your hand." Anders hits his fist against his chest. "Tell me, what power do I have? The power to have my emotions burned out of my skull if you keep yelling 'mage' under the templar's noses?"

Fenris stares at him with wide eyes. "I'm sorry, I wasn't aware."

Anders feels like someone punched the air out of his stomach. "How could you not be aware? You saw the mages and the tranquil at the Gallows, you told me yourself that all mages should be made tranquil."

"I said that I know some mages who should be tranquil, in Tevinter."

Anders sets his hand on the table, letting it take some of his weight. He's so tired. "What difference does that make?"

"I didn't mean you."

"Why not? I'm a mage, just like them."

Fenris shakes his head. "You are nothing like them."

"Lucky me." Anders' legs suddenly feel like lead and he leans against the wall and slides down until he sits on the floor. The stress of the day catches up with him and the healer part of himself notes the cold sweat at the back of his neck and his shaking hands as signs of exhaustion. "I'm too tired for this. I'll do anything, whatever you want. Just say what you think and maybe we —"

"I think that you're kind and passionate." Fenris crouches down in front of him and looks him in the eyes. "I think that you respect life and people. I think you care too much sometimes. You care about your friends, your patients, helping them at the expense of your own health."

Anders stares at Fenris, all coherent thoughts having left his mind.

"If you ask me what I want — I want to look at you without fear." Fenris lowers his eyes, watching his hands as they wring each other. "I want to be able to trust you. I want to talk to you and not hear a magister, waiting for an opening to hurt me."

"Fenris," Anders says softly, putting his hand on Fenris'. "What can I do?"

Fenris turns his hands up, pressing his palm against Anders'. "I don't know. This is all new to me."

Anders wraps his fingers around Fenris' hand, stroking with his thumb over a line of lyrium on the back of Fenris' hand. "Maybe all we need is time?"

"Yes, maybe." Fenris lets out a breath and looks at Anders. "I will not call you abomination again, if you don't call me slave."

Anders flinches. "I did that, didn't I? I'm such an ass sometimes. I promise, I won't call you slave again."

"And I will keep my mouth shut about your mageness around templars."

"Thank you." Anders lets Fenris' hand slip out of his grasp and gets up, using the table as support. He looks at it, at the scratched, but clean surface and the sturdy legs. "Do you have chairs? Two of them?"

Fenris frowns as he gets up. "Yes?"

"Would you like to have dinner tomorrow night? I can make soup if I can use your kitchen."

Fenris looks from the table to Anders and back. "Here? Dinner? With me?"

Anders shrugs. "My table is broken."

A smile pulls at the corners of Fenris' mouth. "Yes. Yes, I would like that."

"Good." Anders feels strangely light, excitement curling in his stomach. "Then I'll see you tomorrow after the seventh bell."

"Yes." Fenris looks at him, his hands twitching as if he doesn't know what to do with them.

"I better get back to the mansion now, before Hawke sends out a search party." Anders walks towards the door. He turns once more, raising his hand in an awkward wave. "Good night, see you tomorrow."

Fenris raises his hand slowly, looking at him with a strange frown. "See you tomorrow."

Smiling once more at the elf, Anders walks out, a swing in his steps and butterflies dancing in his stomach. He shakes his head at himself. It's like he's a bloody teenager again.

#dadrunkwriting #Fenris #Anders #Fenris x Anders #dragon age #fenders #fenders fic #dragon age fanfiction #my writing

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pheita · 2 years

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Misery loves Company Part 3

Yeah, we are at the part that proves this saying. Trigger warning for (holy fuck a lot): child abuse, slavery, human trafficking, forced sex work, mentions of domestic abuse, mentions of death, mentions of murder, mentions of alcohol, talk about sex I hope I have everything covered. This is also pretty long because I didn't want to part it into two. You know, just get through it. I promise this is the worst part. After this we will have either funny things, stupid things or smut.

After breakfast and a trip to the market, they were now stocked up with everything they would need on the road and saved themselves from the approaching warmth in the weather to the room. So equipped with juice and diluted beer, as well as some of the sweets and treats from the market, Lyran now sat on the floor of the room with Arritit. It was still a few hours until sunset, so he could rest enough. "So...," Arritit began between two pieces of the little fruit-infused sweet dough balls, "you've carved out enough time now." "I like to forget that you're just as stubborn as I am." "That's why we like each other." Her grin was wide enough to show her teeth. "True again," Lyran admitted, emptying his cup. "I'm listening." "Everyone leaves me eventually. I'm used to that." He shrugged and refilled them both. "But why are you used to it." "My father died before I could remember him, my mother was forced to remarry due to silly Wealzarythian laws. My stepfather was a gambler, wife beater and drunkard. My cousins died in Kirenes' silly war. Years later, my uncle. My mother died of disease when I was twelve. Shall I go on?" "I know that wasn't all. I can see that by looking at you." The small wooden stick for the fruit balls was misused by Arritit as a miniature sword as she waved it under his nose. Surrendered, he rolled his eyes and stuffed one of the candies into his mouth. Lyran screwed up his face, not expecting how sour it was. "You can't tell by looking at me," he replied as he shook his head at the sour taste. "I guess you can. I can see you trying to avoid it and looking everywhere but at me." Where she was right, she was right. It was easier when he wasn't seeing her reaction in the process. It should have been easier after all this time. It had all been more than twenty years now, but it was anything but easy.

Arritit's hand on his brought Lyran out of his thoughts. Questioningly, he looked at her. "All well?" she inquired quietly. "As well as can be expected. I'm still alive and free, aren't I?" "You are, and you're safe with me. Don't forget that." "How could I ever forget." The rustle of her clothes revealed that she was shifting, even before Arritit sat next to Lyran and put an arm around his waist. Her head rested against his upper arm. "I know what it's like, never being able to forget. Sometimes I still see Belvie in front of me." "Belvie?" Cynically, she snorted. "My fiancée. At least that's what we used to call each other. We had just come of age, so you do such nonsense. Father..." Lyran understood too well where this was going. "I didn't know he lashed out like that. I only knew about Halrin and Tunebat." "They were the first. Belvie tried to help me bring Sojan back to his senses. Father used it." Shifting his weight a bit, Lyran in turn now put his arm around her. "Our fathers are assholes. My stepfather sold me to the Golden Cage just weeks after Mom died to pay off his gambling debts." Her head turned a little, so she was looking at him. It was strange how Arritit's usually bright eyes seemed clouded right now, and it wasn't just because of the tears that threatened to fall soon.

"How did you get through that?" It was just a whisper, marked by bewilderment. "I don't know." Frustrated, Lyran went through his hair, only to find that his curls were already about to knot up again. "What happened next?" "There were a few of us kids. The youngest were just used as delivery boys. We older ones.... Had to serve as valets when customers booked a room. Or clean in the public rooms while customers were there. Some of the adults tried to look out for us, but let's just say I wasn't very good at following orders." "The scars..." "Yeah." As many times as Arritit had patched him up, she had of course seen the many scars from the whippings on his back. "But you know the reputation of the Golden Cage. Every time I started trusting someone more...they disappeared. I didn't understand why for the first few years. Until I had to help cover up for the first time when I was fifteen. Shortly after, Astrina came along. Her uncle had sold her after her parents died. You don't want to know how many kids grew up there, only to die soon because some adult sold them to get rid of them, pay off gambling debts, or whatever to afford."

Memories of that time came flooding back. Actually, Lyran had hoped it had all buried far enough. Arritit's hand at his waist squeezed gently. "That's why Sojan didn't want you to go then." "It took you this long to get it?" The laugh came almost automatically, even though it was actually inappropriate. A small smile on Arritit's face, however, made it clear that it was all right. "I knew there were bad memories there, but not how bad. Other than that, everything went haywire after that night." "Yeah, it did..." Again, she gave him a little squeeze. "What actually happened back then?" "Time jump, huh?" With an annoyed snort, Arritit rolled her eyes and indicated with a quick nod for him to continue. "Alright, let's stay in time. You're a poor storyteller for a bard." "You're just impatient, dearest Ari." Lyran rested his head on hers and took a deep breath.

"Where were we? Ah Astrina." A deep sigh later, he took another deep breath. "We understood each other quickly. She was a few weeks older than me and was being auctioned off to a particularly violent client for the Night of the Virgins. I was also supposed to be there as a servant. That was the owner's way of making it clear to me where my place was. Something was going through me that night. The customer had hardly settled down in the room when he hit Astrina the first time. After that, a lot of things are blurry. I know from reports from the town guard that the customer, a guard, and the owner died that night, a fire broke out in the Golden Cage but was brought under control and several people were considered missing or dead from the poor souls who worked there. Astrina and I made it to the Royal Theater and got shelter there." The tension of bringing it all back up was starting to get to Lyran. It felt like someone had put chains around his chest.

Arritit nudged him and held out a sweet pastry. "Eat, the sugar helps." "Are you trying to fatten me up?" joked Lyran, but gratefully accepted the pastry. "I want to keep you sane." "I am sane." Before biting into the pastry, Lyran gave Arritit a kiss on the nose. "I'm afraid that can change quickly." "The worst that can happen is that I get drunk tonight." She rolled her eyes and used the pause to eat something herself. For a few moments they sat there like that, holding each other, and pursuing their own thoughts. "How did you handle it back then?" asked Lyran into the silence. He knew Sojan had struggled with guilt and grief for the decades since, but Arritit never seemed like she felt the same way. She licked her lips thoughtfully. "Sojan and I came to this dimension together. Mother had sent us ahead to make sure we were safe. She followed almost two years later, when she thought it was safe to go too. I remember when she found me, I was learning from a shaman everything needed to be a healer for other tribes. She also stayed in the village for a while, learning a few things herself. I never dared to ask where Ren and Ram were. Maybe because I knew they were loyal to Father, or maybe because I was afraid to hear the confirmation. I don't know." "I remember the deranged twins well...," Lyran remarked. It had only been a few days back then, and Halrin, who was surprisingly still alive, had protected him from most of them, but Ram in particular had taken her vicious streak out on him with glee.

"They were playing with you then, weren't they?" Arritit looked at him seriously. He didn't have to answer, he could tell by looking at her. A simple nod was enough. "Then you know what I went through." "I can imagine." Gently, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. Arritit returned the gesture with a smile and a kiss on his nose. "That probably makes you the only one in all known dimensions." "I only wish you could have been protected from that." She chuckled and shook her head briefly. "Akejin and Sojan did their best, except they couldn't always watch over me either. Akejin was almost grown up when I was born." Lyran reached over to the candied fruit and held out the bag to Arritit. "You need the sugar just as much." "Thanks." Of course, she had to pick the biggest piece, but Lyran didn't care. "So, you and Astrina... what went wrong?" "By the Great Mother, if I knew." He looked up at the ceiling and licked his lower lip. "I really loved her. Even when I was at the Bard School, I tried to spend as much time with her as I could. She loved it when I talked about what we learned. I had this big dream that someday she and I would have a little house, I would have a job with one of the nobles, and we would have a little family. Maybe I screwed up making her realize that dream always included her, or maybe she realized there was something else." "And that was?" The laugh in her voice made him smile. He looked back up at her and realized she was glued to his lips. "Ismanis. We were in the same year. I think sometime around the end of sophomore year, I started to fall for him. The summer before senior year, Astrina broke up with me. She said she couldn't keep it up." "And Ismanis? That's an elf name, isn't it?" Lyran laughed. Arritit's lack of knowledge about languages was almost legendary. "Yes, it is. He was one of the elves at the school. We weren't together long. A year and a half or so? I came to the royal court, and he found employment outside. That was it."

The gleam in Arritit's eyes, Lyran already knew too well. She released the embrace and changed her sitting position so that she could look directly at him. "Come on, a young handsome bard like you at court. Surely there was somebody there." "I'm sorry to disappoint you. My bed was left to me alone and was also visited every night. Even though the palace rumor mill thought they knew I had an exceedingly close relationship with Prince Mendis." Her head went forward, and she looked at him with her mouth open. "Wait, you were rumored to have been in bed with the current King Wealmoores?" "Not everyone can say that, can they?" Lyran couldn't help but grin at that. Mendis and he were happy to fuel the rumor mill at the time, simply thus because that was how they could control it. "Clearly not," Arritit chuckled, stuffing the next piece of candied fruit into her mouth. With big movements she chewed, the piece probably harder than expected.

"So....after all, you were with the freedom troupes." "I was." He looked away to the side, hoping Arritit didn't notice. Her face suddenly in front of him, however, said it hadn't. "No... you can't be serious." "I don't know what you mean." "You had a thing with a soldier, didn't you?" "Yes and no," Lyran evaded. He leaned away from her a little, but it was no use. Arritit slid behind and looked at him, waiting. "What was it?" "Neftani actually wanted to become a bard, but wasn't allowed because the family didn't have enough money. He taught me to fight, and I taught him some simple songs." Her waggling eyebrows were enough indication that she was waiting for the delicate stuff. Growling, Lyran relented. "All right, we were in Stramsa’gonil, it had snowed, we couldn't go any further, and Neftani and I were sharing a room anyway. A lot of wine flowed, we sang, played cards, and drank until well into the morning. What happens with a group of soldiers who have to wait." "And then more happened, right?" "Yes. We were both buzzed, but not drunk. When we stumbled up to the room, he kissed me all at once, and one thing led to another." Laughing, Arritit fell backward onto the floor. "Damn, I didn't think you had it in you." "Everyone makes mistakes."

From one moment to the next, she became serious again and sat up once more. "Don't say that...." "He pretended nothing happened for the sake of the dear family, because he was the only son to carry on the family name. Exactly that. That's why I left the freedom troupes, as soon as we reached the snow line at Adach'phenil, I joined a group of merchants. And you know the rest." Lyran did not like the look in her eyes. Arritit's look spoke of pity, compassion, and concern. Reaching for a dumpling steered him away. "Lyran..." "I'm telling you; I'm used to this. This is my life. I'm just damned by the gods." The bitter smile had come so naturally after all these years. Always smiling and not being a burden to others, he was good at that. A moment later, he was lying on his back on the floor with Arritit on top of him, holding him tightly. "Don't do that." "What?" "Hiding behind a smile and funny songs." "I'm a bard. It doesn't matter how I feel. My job is to distract others from their troubles." "And who distracts you?" she asked straight forward. He tried to take a breath to answer, but her weight made it difficult. "Get off me first," he gasped, strained. "I'm not that heavy." "No, but I'm stuffed."

Amused, she rolled to the side. So now they lay there, like ladybugs on their backs, staring up at the ceiling. "Ari?" "Hmm?" "Have you found anyone in all these decades?" She took an audible breath and huffed loudly. "In the village where I was trained there was a woman, the daughter of the carpenter. I thought it was something serious, but she ended up choosing the blacksmith's son. Years later, there was a town guard in another town. We got along well, but he showed his true colors when I thought I was pregnant. You never saw anyone run so fast. Then the fishing village. Lannhia was adorable, smart, and a damn good midwife. She helped train Pris as a new shaman." "What happened?" "Father..." Lyran turned around. He propped himself up on one arm and looked at her seriously. "You left your chance to be happy because you ran away from your father?" "I had to protect her. You know why. Then there was Yuna. I knew I couldn't go back to Lannhia like that after everything. I went to the village three years ago to check on Pris. Lannhia didn't even greet me, instead she was wandering the market with her wife right under my nose." Arritit's voice became more and more strained. Lyran wanted to say something, but didn't know what. Instead, he put his free arm around her and pulled her close. The humidity and warmth were secondary as he took her in his arms and wrapped himself around her like a human blanket. "Twin stars, indeed," he murmured to himself. "What do you mean?" "The moon signs of the elves. We would both be twin stars. As similar as we are, it's only fitting." There came only a hum in reply.

#writblr #writing #lyran #arritit #misery loves company #part 3 #fantasy #adult audience

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kuroos-babie · 4 years

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Falling in Love with a Single Mom HCs

Sakusa x fem!Reader | Kita x fem!Reader | Tendō x fem!Reader

[ Headcanons/MiniFics ]

Request: LOVED YOUR FALLING IN LOVE WITH SINGLE MOM HCS SHAKAKAOXVAIAL MOSTLY BOKUTO’S AHDIWIXBSIAO!! CAN I REQ THEM WITH SAKUSA KITA AND TENDOU?? TYSM 🤩🤩 —anonymous

a/n: once again,,, i love these hcs so much but i feel like omi was kinda ooc im so sorry (╥﹏╥) i hope u like these still!! i really enjoyed writing these, pls do tell me what you think (~￣³￣)~

❀ he's been watching you for a while now— his team's manager

❀ everyone knew you've recently became a new mom— as well as how your child's dad went MIA a few weeks after you gave birth, left a note breaking things off with you and saying he wasn't ready to be a dad

❀ you usually had your mom or a relative take care of your baby while you went to work, but this time no one was available so you had to bring your son with you

❀ standing by the corner of the crowded cafeteria, he kept on glancing at you obviously struggling to pacify your baby

❀ he didn't like the piercing cries of the child in your arms so he decided to help you, or so he convinced himself

❀ in reality, he couldn't take seeing you so panicked anymore— it agitates him so much

❀ he was trying to remember what komori taught him about babies as he walked over to where you stood

"have you tried feeding it?" he asked nonchalantly, standing a good foot away from you as he tried to peer over your shoulder

"him" you replied, exhaustion and frustration dripping from your tone, "and yeah, i just did"

you sighed

"give me"

it wasn't everyday that sakusa offered help so you jumped at the opportunity, supporting your child's neck and back as sakusa took him, doing the same

❀ he laid the baby on his chest, gently tapping at his back

❀ after a few moments he let out a small burp the baby not sakusa skdka

❀ he handed your child back to you, now silently chewing on his hand, saying he "just needed to burp"

❀ your face felt hot, embarrassed that you had no idea

❀ sakusa just placed a hand on your head and smiled behind his mask before leaving, he knows you needed all the help you can get right now and he, albeit wordlessly, made sure you're aware that he's willing to provide that help

❀ since then he regularly drops by your apartment and helps you clean and take care of your baby saying he's just making sure there weren't any germs near the kid

❀ lets you take naps as he watch your kid— but not before taking a bath, he has spare clothes in your closet

❀ the team notices how he's always over at your place

"omi-kun you're always over at y/n's, might as well move in with her"

"if she wants me to, i don't see any problem with it" he said so casually it made you whip your head to his direction

"do you... want to?" he looked away from you without an answer, avoiding your eyes, "omi-kun do you want to move in with us?"

"i said, if you wanted to" he replied, still avoiding your gaze and cheeks tinted red

❀ you met him at the wet market; well, your daughter did

❀ you noticed her run off while you were buying ingredients for your lunch and stocking up your fridge, quickly trying to catch up to her

❀ she was giddily running around, little 3 year old legs not taking her too far before bumping into a stranger's leg

❀ falling to her bum, your daughter looked up to see brown eyes looking down at her

"i'm sorry, are you alright?"

he helped the child up, holding her steady as he dusted off her bottom

by the time you caught up with the both of them, he already had your daughter in his arms, asking her where her mom was with a smile

"there she is!" she said with a giggle

"baby, what did i tell you about running off on your own?" you scolded her with a tired smile as kita handed her over to you, thanking him kindly

❀ after that encounter, he started to notice you more and more; in the wet market, around the neighbourhood, and in the topics of local grannies

❀ you moved in recently, shortly after your daughter's dad bailed out on the both of you, leaving you to raise her alone; or so he's heard

❀ he would always give you a soft smile and an acknowledging nod whenever you two see each other

❀ it wasn't until his grandmother asked him to bring over some vegetables to your house that he had the chance to have an actual conversation with you

"gran wanted you to have this"

"oh thank you very much", you beamed at him while taking the basket, "do you maybe want to come inside? i'll prepare some tea"

he was about to decline the offer, but the joyful look on your child's face the moment she sees kita convinced him to do otherwise

❀ the two of you talked over tea and snacks while your daughter sat on his lap, playing with his large hand

❀ you couldn't help but smile at the both of them, your daughter never one to be this playful with others, kita didn't seem too bothered either

❀ time passed and kita needed to go back home, much to your daughter's dismay

❀ he didn't want to upset your kid too much so it was decided he'll come back soon to play with her

❀ it became a regular thing for kita to stop by your house on his way home from the fields— spending time with you and your daughter slowly becoming routine

❀ he adored your child's little giggles and the way she insisted having him wear the flower crown she made, glancing at you to see you laughing at the sight had him imagining what life would've been like with the two of you

❀ till he realized he was already living that life— looking forward to seeing you both after a hard day of work at the fields, being greeted by warm smiles and a hug, eating dinner together and sharing laughter

❀ it seems like granny wouldn't have to wait too long for a grandchild

❀ he noticed your 2 year old boy looking—staring, at him from across the restaurant he was having lunch at

❀ so of course he decided to make faces in an attempt to make him laugh

❀ he wiggled his eyebrows at the toddler, waving his hands and cooing— though he wasn't sure if the baby even hears him

❀ the boy decided that tendō pulling at his ears and sticking his tongue out was a winner, letting out a short giggle

❀ you had your back to tendō so you were surprised to see your child laughing when you looked up from your meal

❀ turning around to see tendō making the silliest face, you couldn't help but laugh as well, your son finding it absolutely hilarious and is squealing in delight

❀ tendō's face heated up in embarrassment from being caught but he laughed along nonetheless, shaking his head as you waved your son's tiny hands at him and mouthing 'hello'

❀ he thought you two were adorable so he decided to come up to your table

"you babysitting your nephew? or is that your baby brother?"

you chuckled at him, "he's my son"

"oh"

the redhead's brain buffered for a few moments, "i should get going then, don't wanna offend someone" he laughed awkwardly, hand scratching at his nape

"oh no, it's fine. you're not offending anyone" his eyebrows raised at your reply's implication, "mind taking a seat? my baby seem to like you"

"your baby has great taste" tendō smirked as he slid to the seat opposite yours

"so it seems" you said with a tone that sent a blush straight to his cheeks

❀ the afternoon ended with your number saved on tendō's phone under the name cute baby('s) momma🥺

❀ he texts and calls All The Time; asking how your kid is doing and wanting to see the both of you

❀ after a while of talking and going out, you asked him if he wanted to come over to your place for a visit and he was simply ✨ecstatic✨

❀ spent the whole afternoon crawling around your living room chasing your son, squeals and giggles echoing throughout your house

❀ you've never seen your son be this comfortable with anyone that isn't you and you're just grateful that tendō adores your child as much as your child adores him

❀ when tendō walked up to you— your son in his arms, sleeping soundly on his shoulder, you offered to take the child but he refused and opted to pull you close with his free hand

❀ he leaned against the kitchen counter, both you and your son in his arms as you asked him in a whisper, "can you stay?"

❀ understanding what you meant was more than staying for the night, he answered with a definite "for as long as you want to, of course" before pressing a kiss on your temple

taglist: @churochuu @bakarinnie @faithieeee @strawberriimilkshake @paulazockt @pattys-got-cakes @hidden-otaku-stuff @haikyuubabie @shou-kunn @your-local-abyss @stcrryskies

✨send me an ask to be added/removed!✨

#sakusa x reader #kita x reader #satori tendo x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa headcanons #haikyuu sakusa #kita shinsuke #hq tendou #tendou #haikyuu tendou #tendou satori #tendou headcanon #tendou hcs #tendou x reader

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kpopdreamlands · 3 years

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o n e || a l l t h e l i e s w e t e l l

↞previous ... next↠

mafia boss!hongjoong x mafia boss!oc

masterlist

words: 1.6K

warnings: mentions of mafia/violence

She blamed the sudden buzzing of her phone for the scene in front of her. The once neat pile of books were scattered across the floor. She just stared at them for a moment, regretting her existence.

That was totally the phone's fault. Totally not because my dumb ass thought it could carry a pile of books taller than myself. Ara kept staring at the mess for a while, finally snapping out of her trance as she realised her phone was still buzzing.

'Yeoboseyo?' she answered the phone, still considering whether she still had the motivation to pick every book back up or whether she should just sprawl on the floor with them.

'You need to get here right now.' Ara recognised the voice on the other side instantly. Shooting up, she walked past the mess. Hwa Young sounded worried. She rarely ever sounded worried.

'Where are you, I'll be there in 5.'

'Dorms, hurry up.' The call disconnected and Ara didn't even bother shoving her coat on properly. She ran out to see the bus leaving. The next bus going in the direction of the dorms wasn't arriving until God-Knows-When. Making her decision in a split second, Ara started sprinting. The dorms were only a few blocks down, she could make it in five minutes easily.

Her legs were aching by the time she was opening the door, but the tension gathering in her head was too prominent for her body to register the pain. Hwa Young was sitting in the living room, staring at her laptop, Hyun beside her. They all looked up the moment she walked in.

From the way Hyun was fiddling with her hands and Hwa avoided her gaze, she braced herself for the worst.

'What's wrong?' she asked.

'Ara... the market skyrocketed just after half our stock went missing.' Ara stood there, trying to process her words.

'Half our stock?' Ara exclaimed. 'How? I leave soldiers at the warehouse on surveillance 24/7.'

'Whoever managed to steal half our stock must've been pretty smart. Either that or one of our own soldiers was stupid enough to work with someone on the outside. Either way, it couldn't have been carried out alone. You need someone on the outside to do something this big and precise,' Hyun said. Ara nodded. Without any further conversation, she headed to her room, Hwa and Hyun heading to theirs. Once they stepped out, they all wore identical trench coats to hide their clothes underneath.

The three of them departed the dorms quickly, finding themselves in a dark alleyway soon enough. As they walked further and further into the darkness, they shed themselves of the coats, left in their black and leather. Slipping three caps out of the handbag she was holding, Ara handed one to each of the girls on her sides. Setting her handbag down in space between the crumbling bricks, Ara neatly folded her coat and placed on a black face mask. Hyun and Hwa did the same.

By the time the three of them were on the other side of the alley, emerging into the bustling streets of Seoul once again, they were unrecognisable. Any person who had seen them on the other side would never be able to tell it was them.

Ara slowly made her way through the crowd, losing the other two girls as they always did when they approached large masses. She headed in the direction of the hardware store squished between the mall and the food court. Despite its small size, it was always full of people with their broken phones and malfunctioning laptops. Little did they know that just beneath the thriving business, was one of the country's most wanted and illegal bases. The small yet popular nature of the store made the store the last place the police would think to look.

On that particular day, the store was as busy as usual. Through the clamouring and crying over devices, Ara went unnoticed as she slipped into the janitor's closet right at the back. Grabbing her phone, she turned on the flash and started tracing the wall's outline. Her fingers grazed against a small but obvious indent and she pressed down.

A faint click sounded and a panel slid out of the wall. Ara stepped through it, placing the panel back behind her. Once she was sure that it had clicked into place and no one had seen or heard her, she flicked on the switch to her right. The inside of the room she had stepped into illuminated into life. A set of staircases awaited her. Just as she was making her way down, Hyun appeared, walking down from the stairs above. She must've taken the entrance from the old karaoke booth above the hardware store.

'Hwa's already inside,' the younger girl informed, catching up to Ara. Ara nodded, leading the way down. They went down two more flights before approaching a door. As soon as Ara's hand met the handle, something in her chest relaxed. A twist of the cold metal revealed her life's work.

'Where is our stock now?' Hwa shouted, already walking around the rows of people all operating computers. One of the techies piped up and replied, 'The trackers say it's somewhere in the outskirts of Seoul but live satellite images show there isn't anything there. They probably dumped the trackers before they took it too far.' Ara could see Hwa's irritation steadily rising. On the other hand, Hyun just laughed, scanning one of the monitors.

'I have to give it to whoever did this. They not only managed to steal from the biggest mafia in Seoul, but they managed to get away with it half-an-hour before anyone realised anything,' she laughed.

'baeB, now's not the time for jokes,' Ara said, addressing the girl by her mafia alias. Hyun just shook her head, laughing at the screen.

'Roze,' Ara turned to Hwa, 'do you think you can find out who it was within an hour? We need to get back into the market quickly. Otherwise, we'll lose this opportunity. Our next hit is essential and we need the profit from our sales for supplies.' Hwa nodded, heading to the Administration Office the three of them shared. Ara and Hyun followed her. Hwa sat down at her desk and started typing away and everyone knew that within an hour they would know exactly who had taken their stock and within two, the culprit would be destroyed.

On the other hand, Hyun started strapping on the various weapons hanging on the opposite wall. As she sheathed her iconic twin daggers onto her thigh straps, she walked over to Ara.

'I'm going to take one of the capos and her soldiers to the stock warehouse and check it out for any evidence. You wanna join?' she asked. Ara shook her head. As the boss of the mafia, she kept minimal contact with the soldiers. baeB should have done the same as the underboss; she had an army of caporegimes and soldiers to do the dirty work for her. While baeB rarely went on missions, she joined investigations every once in a while when she was "in the mood". What pleasure she found in getting involved was lost to Ara, but she let her do what she wanted nonetheless. There was no stopping baeB when she made up her mind.

'Of course, big boss lady ZH won't join,' Hyun chuckled. Tapping Ara's shoulder as she walked past her, Hyun called out, 'I'll call you if I find anything. And tell Roze to let me know if she finds anything.' With that, the girl disappeared through one of the side doors, probably to contact one of her favourite caporegimes. Ara shook her head before sighing and taking her seat at her desk.

Her head was pounding from the lack of sleep due to the exams she had coming up. She would have to deal with their failing finances, which meant meeting up with associates who were to be profited from their sales and also breaking into her personal bank to pay for the supplies for the upcoming hits. While one part of her started listing all the things that needed to be done for the mafia, her other half was occupied with thoughts on how she would finish studying for the psychology finals. She had an exam scheduled for the next morning.

Burying her head in her hands, she took a deep breath. Whichever idiot had stolen from NTMR would be ripped limb from limb once she found them. She wondered if she would join baeB in torturing them as compensation for all the trouble she was going through.

Ara grabbed her laptop and started scheduling meetings. Just as she was about to send an email to one of her higher-up associates, Roze called her from the other side of the room. ZH shot up and walked over to her. As she did, her phone buzzed.

'Hey, baeB, what's up?' she asked.

'The situation is... interesting to say the least. I'll send the soldiers back to base. Get here as soon as you can.' With that, baeB cut the call. Roze looked up at her.

'What did she say?'

'Not much. Anyway, what did you find?'

Roze spun her laptop around. 'Looks like we have a few guests. I only got a name.' Ara raised a brow. It was odd for Roze to struggle with the set of skills the girls possessed.

'Well?'

Roze clicked on a tab, pages upon pages upon pages of numbers and letters Ara didn't understand popping up. Roze highlighted a singular word on the page.

'ATEEZ.'

-- -- --

A/N: Where are all my Atinys at??

Honestly, this was meant to be a Seonghwa x OC fanfiction, but one of the side couples became waaaay too interesting, so they became the mains. The original OC is still a character in the story, with Seonghwa as her main love interest so not to worry.

Oh and here's the law of being an Atiny: Even if Hongjoong isn't your bias, he's your bias.

Sorry, I don't make the rules :)

Luv y'all!!! (^ 3^)

#mafia #fanfiction #ateez #ateez fanfic #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #ateez au #mafia au #fanfic #kpop

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supremesukuna · 4 years

Note

Part 2 of Jedi!Reader please? Maybe Jealous!Mando and uhh.. Smut (maybe) lmao I'm sorry

"So I’ve had this idea floating around in my head for the past couple of days. Could you write something where the reader just randomly gets kissed by someone and mando gets super jealous because he wants to be able to kiss them? I love your writing so much! It always makes my day when you post something 🥰"

Hope you dont mind that I put these two together! This was getting a bit long so the smut will have to wait until part 3 😅

part one

***

"I'll go and get the supplies. You wait here. I'm not sure how long this will take, so don't wander off." Din informed you.

You nodded. "I'll keep myself busy here." You smiled as you looked across the square of the little town you had stopped in. There was a small market which you could occupy yourself with.

You had taken your time looking across the various fruits, trinkets and foods for sale, many of which you had not seen before. You didn't have any credits on you to purchase anything, which had you kicking yourself, as you had already seen about 8 items you wanted to buy.

You were snapped out of your daze when you heard a familiar voice call your name. You turned to see who the voice belonged to.

"Tarver?" You questioned, a smile overtaking your face. "Is that really you?"

You rushed towards him and pulled him into a hug. He was an old friend of yours, you had both trained together and fought against the Galactic Empire together. You hadn't seen him since the fall of the Empire, when all the Jedi scattered.

"What brings you here?" He asked, his smile equally as bright.

"Just stocking up on supplies. You?"

"I live here. Moved here after our final battle."

"Have you seen anyone else? I haven't seen any of our Jedi friends for years!"

"A few, a lot of people pass through here."

"Prime spot for travellers I'm guessing?"

"Correct."

You continued catching up, talking about your old memories, your current lives, your future plans. It was comforting to have a reminder of where you had come from, it reminded you of how far you'd come, and how much your life had improved since choosing to travel with Din.

"I best let you go about your day."

You nodded in agreement. "If we don't go now, we'll be here all day." You joked. "See you soon, yeah? I'm sure I'll come this way again."

"See you too!" He leaned forward, which caused you to instinctively pull away. "Come on, you know I can't not kiss you."

You laughed, "you make it sound so romantic." You knew it was far from that.

Tarver came from a community who kissed friends and acquaintances goodbye, it was seen as offensive to avoid it. You had made many jokes about it in the past.

"Ugh fine. Make it quick. I don't want your germs." You joked, easily falling back into your old routines.

"Always so polite."

He leant towards you, pressing a quick kiss on your lips. You let him, but didn't pass up the opportunity to fake gag.

"That felt like kissing a sibling." You overreacted.

"Blame my ancestors for putting it into our etiquette."

"Curse you!" You waved your fist at the sky, causing the two of you to double over in laughter.

A sudden tight grip on your arm snapped you out of it. You looked up, seeing Din.

"Oh hi." You didn't bother to hide your surprise. That was much quicker than you expected.

"We need to go."

He didn't give you a chance to respond, moving his grip to your wrist and pulling you along, forcing you to fall in step behind him.

You yelled a quick bye over your shoulder, before concentrating on keeping up with Din's quick steps. Your heart was hammering in your chest. Something had really worried or annoyed him, hence your quick getaway, so you kept an eye out for any suspicious activity. Perhaps you had been followed to the little town, or Din had bumped into trouble.

But you only grew more confused when there was no sign of any commotion or any sight of people spying or trying to follow you. You couldn't sense anyone nearby either. It was when you had exited the town and started down the route back to the Razor Crest that you voiced your confusion.

"Din, can you please tell me what's going on? Are we in danger?"

"No." He responded, his tone clipped. Din's footsteps did not get any slower, nor his grip any looser.

"Then why are you so quick to leave?" You tried to pull your wrist away, but he didn't let up.

"Let's just go."

You dug your heels into the ground, forcing him to stop. Din swung round to face you, his posture showing annoyance.

"I'm not going anywhere unless you tell me what happened." He had a habit of hiding things from you, thinking it protected you, but it only made you ill prepared for when you inevitably ran into trouble. You had repeatedly asked him to start being more open, but knew it was difficult for someone so used to travelling alone.

He sighed loudly, tugging your arm, but you wrenched it away from his grip, crossing your arms.

"Stop being awkward. Let's go." Din stepped forward to reach for you again, but you took a step back.

"No, not unless you start being honest with me. What happened?"

"Nothing happened."

"Then why are you acting so odd? Something must have happened for you to be so rattled."

"I'm not... rattled." He didn't sound convincing at all.

"Well you're something."

"You wandered off. I told you not to do that."

Now he was making excuses. "You told me to make myself busy while you got our supplies. I stayed near to where you were, so don't blame this on me."

He didn't say anything, and an awkward silence fell over the two of you. You scraped your boots against the ground, waiting for him to explain, but he stayed silent.

"Please just be honest with me." You half begged.

"Who were you speaking to?"

You were taken aback by his question, and his unnecessarily rough tone. "Someone I know."

"Someone you know?" He repeated.

"Yes." You spoke slowly, unsure what he was getting at.

"You know them well?"

"Define well?" You had no idea what an earth he was on about.

"Well enough to-" he stopped himself, but you knew now what he was getting at.

"To what?" You were visibly annoyed now, realising what he was probably getting at. But he didn't need to act like such a child.

"You know what."

"So you're spying on me now."

"If you won't be honest then I'll have to."

"How have I not been honest?!" Your voice raised in annoyance.

"Keep your voice down. And how can I keep you safe if you run off with other men?" He regretted what he said once it was out of his mouth, not realising how bad it sounded until it was too late.

"Seriously? Din, what the hell?" You sounded genuinely hurt, at it made his chest ache.

"I didn't mean that to sound so... accusing."

"Well it did." You tried not to sound so offended, but failed.

You continued, explaining yourself to stop him thinking the worst. "He's a friend, I trained with him. We were Padawans together. And if you'd just asked me instead of assuming everything, you would know that."

"...And the kiss?" His own insecurity caused him to ask. It's not like he was able to do that with you whenever he pleased. You'd never openly discussed what your relationship was prior to this moment, but you both knew there was an unspoken thing between the two of you.

"Din, it was nothing. It's a weird etiquette thing from his home planet."

"To kiss people on the mouth?"

"Yes." You were exasperated. "Honestly, he'd probably try to kiss you if I introduced you." It sounded ridiculous out of context. You reached for his hand, knowing that your touch helped ground him. "Din please believe me." You looked up at him.

"I believe you."

He hated how upset you looked, especially as it was his fault. You were blaming yourself for his own insecurity.

"I didn't mean to upset you." His voice was soft, trying to remove the hurt expression currently dominating your features.

You took a deep breath, but Din didn't miss how shaky it was. "It's fine. I get that this-" you gestured between the two of you "-is different for you, and for me as well. I wasn't thinking."

Din's chest felt heavy at your response. You were so good, always thinking of him over yourself. Even when he was most arguably in the wrong, you were the one apologising.

"Don't apologise. I overreacted."

"No you didn't."

Din cupped your face, forcing you to look at him. "Yes I did. I shouldn't have done that. I got jealous and stopped thinking straight. It's not your fault."

"Jealous?" You tilted your head questioningly, a gesture you'd unconsciously picked up from Din.

"I..." He hesitated.

"It's okay. You can tell me." You encouraged him gently. Your tummy was doing somersaults at his unspoken confession.

"I... care about you. And I like having you around. It's nice. I would hate for you to leave."

"Din, I would never leave you. Why would you think that?"

He shifted uncomfortably, and you realised he'd probably opened up more than he had done to most people. Discussing insecurities out in the open would not be at all easy or comfortable for him.

You approached him and wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head on his chest. You pulled him towards you, squeezing tightly.

"I care about you too. And I love being with you. Please don't ever worry about me leaving. I would never."

"I know."

"You're all I have, you know? And the kid." You reassured.

His chin rested on top of your head, his arms wrapping around your back just as tightly as yours were around him. His hands felt warm against your back, and you loved having him so close, despite his beskar armour not being the most huggable material in the world.

"We can go back to the ship if you want to?" You asked.

"Okay."

You went to pull away but he kept one arm wrapped securely around you as you fell in step side by side, your own arm around his waist.

***

part three coming soon!

#mando x reader #mando oneshot #mando one shot #mando requests #din djarin x reader #din djarin requests #din djarin oneshot #din djarin one shot #the mandalorian requests #the mandalorian one shot #the mandalorian x reader

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the-firebird69 · 2 years

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Watch "The Stone Stockmen - Iconic Living Statue Street Performer" on YouTube

youtube

You do look like fools he said and heat exhaustion is something I like to give people but looks like Trump has water and the rest you don't so blame is what I like to give people and all sudden they get really mad I started running around yelling at people in a costume thing we didn't do it why don't you calm down and have a diet Coke with the ice they did and they f*** free so it's you so you said this you're trying to do this joke about the stock market and stone people taking over when we were doing an IPO so we're not really knowing what you're talking about.

They didn't say anything they realize something it's kind of a trick so went on something else later they came back also they said yes I got no class at all this is stupid we're trying to steal from a man using kids tricks all the time so you're not up the ante I said it's nice you're going off to Vietnam shortly again and it looks like the original and I'm going to teach you a lesson when you're never going to forget lesson number one avoid the forest all it's a qf16. Modified into a bomber so they looked later and said that doesn't look like I'm chat any examinated it was there the whole time and everybody was lazy was out of uniform and had a practice and it was hell he says the ship was sunk and then flew back and I know where it goes so they started to laugh saying this is a f****** nightmare

And we hate them so much we don't want to talk about it and there's a hole in the ship that you want to put something in there but it didn't work and it started laughing and then said it's kind of a piss poor plan and you're not even really doing it cuz he doesn't like the fact you're flying Target Jets over here and your stupid aircraft carrier routine with a goddamn retards was going to make you pay for it it's going to jam it down your throat

Before it's all incident the incident the forestall they go after Mack and Tommy f are blowing up the evidence and he's trying to blame bja or some combination of that what we say is that's why they shuffle both Jets off but it hasn't happened yet

Partial proof is sitting right there on the flight deck as Tom Cruise he says he was weirded out for a whole day said someone could have sent an image of it even technical drawings piece by piece but we don't have record of someone doing that and everything else well it doesn't really match with what the ship was like

Further Manhattan is a stock exchange and you're trying to make fun of her son for saying it. When you did not research what's out there in Tunisia he said his figured Army. And yes we added to it but the original army is there and it's on the petrified and petrified in place and everyone was kept out of there so they never saw them until the sands covered them.

This is a legend and it's very old and it's in our culture and you people don't know about it every once in awhile he would wake a battalion up to take care of mac and BGA as Mac and BGA it works great it still is

Thor Freya

#Youtube

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douchebagbrainwaves · 7 years

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WHY I'M SMARTER THAN AREA

They were the kind of ideas you could not merely ignore, but ridicule. Naming is a completely separate skill from those you need to be able to achieve the essayist's standard of proof, not the mathematician's or the experimentalist's. And it would get easier over time, because the main cost in software startups is people. Real thought, like real conversation, is full of false starts. When there's something in a painting by Piero della Francesca.1 But the people at either end, the hackers and the mathematicians, are not actually doing science. But not quite. Because, although insignificant as revenue, this amount of money can change a startup's funding situation completely. Such observations will necessarily be about things that seem broken, regardless of whether it seems like a bad idea and the other is a good idea for a company located in a startup is always calculating in the back of their mind how much runway they have—how long they have till the money in the bank. You have to be profitable, raise more money, or go to grad school.

Not entirely bad though.2 The advantages of rootlessness are similar to those of poverty.3 Depends what you mean by free. US, companies would even pay their kids' private school tuitions. My Y Combinator co-founder? Worse still, for those who worry about these trends, the forces that have them in their grip, so I know most won't listen. Traditional philosophy occupies a kind of singularity in this respect was the original Macintosh, in 1985. To someone who hasn't learned the difference, traditional philosophy seems extremely attractive: as hard and therefore impressive as math, yet broader in scope.4 So hackers start original, and get original. But it was also because our standards were higher.5

Dartmouth, the University of Vermont, Amherst, and University College, London taught English literature in the 1820s.6 Twenty-six years later, I still don't understand Berkeley.7 Plus a company that has raised money is literally more valuable. And that is another area where undergrads have an edge. I'm not claiming that ideas have to have in person. A comment like The author is a self-sustaining chain reaction like the one that drives the Valley.8 I came of age just as it was starting to break up.

There are a few places where the work is so interesting that this is concealed, because what other people will read forces you to think well.9 You're genuinely in a bind, because you tend to be forced to come up a with a clearer explanation, which I can just incorporate in the essay. The difference between then and now is that now I understand why Berkeley is probably not worth trying to understand. But it was also because our standards were higher. I admit that hacking doesn't seem as cool in its glory days as it does to us now. After you raise the first million dollars, the company is doing. As a result most books on the subject end up being written by people who don't understand it.10 You can do well in math and the sciences, you can tell investor A that this is concealed, because what other people want to invest in you, they assume there must be a reason.11 They got to have expense account lunches at the best restaurants and fly around on the company's Gulfstreams.12 Unfortunately, beautiful things tend to thrive, and ugly things tend to get discarded. And then there was the mystery of why the perennial favorite Pralines 'n' Cream was so appealing.13 The question is whether the author is incorrect somewhere, say where.

It's not something you read looking for a specific answer, and feel cheated if you don't find it. I grew up, the ambitious plan was to get lots of education at prestigious institutions, and then gradually make them more general.14 Economies of scale ruled the day. It's not just that it will succeed, but that the startups with a high probability of the former will seem to have fully grasped what I earlier called the central fact of philosophy.15 100,000 people worked there.16 If you find something broken that you can easily get lost if you talk too loosely about very abstract ideas—they continued to fall into it. Compiler? For a long time and could only travel vicariously. Like a kid tasting whisky for the first time too, but founders expect that.

Notes

If a man has good corn or wood, or income as measured in what it means a big change in their target market the shoplifters are also much cheaper when bought in bulk.

Not all big hits follow this pattern though.

Http://doingbusiness. I think I know of any that died from releasing something stable but minimal very early, then invest in a in the evolution of the 800 highest paid executives at 300 big corporations found that 16 of the magazine they'd accepted it for had disappeared. There are titles between associate and partner, which would be to say they bear no blame for opinions not expressed in it.

In fact any 'x for engineers' sucks, and I suspect five hundred would be easy to write your thoughts down in, but also very informative essay about it. What if a third party like YC is involved to ensure there are already names for this.

More generally, it could hose the whole fund. To be safe either a don't use code written while you were. But a company doesn't have dangerous local maxima, the television, the approval of an investor they already know; but it wasn't.

The moment I do, I'll have people nagging me for features. And at 98%, as far as I explain later. There are some controversial ideas here, the way up.

8 in London, 13 in New York. In other words, it's a hip flask. Ed.

How much better that it would be just as well. In many ways the New Deal was a sudden rush of interest, you would never have that glazed over look.

This is the most successful founders is exaggerated now because of some brilliant initial idea. One of the company they're buying. Imagine the reaction was so violent that she decided never again. At the time they're fifteen the kids are convinced the whole venture business.

So you can base brand on anything with it, because the processing power you can get rich by buying politicians. But it's a seller's market. Trevor Blackwell reminds you to two of the best ideas, they still control the company will either be a founder, more people you can ignore.

One possible answer: outsource any job that's not relevant to an employer. Google is not always intellectual dishonesty that makes curators and dealers use neutral-sounding nonsense seems to be secretive, because despite some progress in the biggest successes there is one that we should worry, not how to use some bad word multiple times. Then Josh Wilson came in to pick your brains. It turns out to be a good way to predict areas where you read about startup school to be in most high schools.

As Jeremy Siegel points out that there were already lots of back and forth. Quite often at YC.

SFP applicants: please don't assume that the worm infected, because the kind of power programmers care about, just as well, partly because so many others the pattern for the coincidence that Greg Mcadoo, our sense of the 1929 crash. You're going to give up your anti-dilution provisions also protect you against tricks like a ragged comb. Make it clear when you lose that protection, e. Even Samuel Johnson said no man but a big chunk of stock the VCs buy, because you can use this technique, you'll have to resort to in order to provoke a bidding war between 3 pet supply startups for the firm in the services, companies that seem to be important ones.

The first alone yields someone who's stubbornly inert. Algorithms that use it are called naive Bayesian. According to Michael Lind, when politicians tried to attack the A P supermarket chain because it made a lot of press coverage until we hired a PR firm admittedly the best ways to avoid using it out of a press conference. So if we wanted to.

His theory was that there is no longer a precondition. Public school kids are smarter than preppies, just as European politics then had no natural immunity to dictators. Many will consent to b rather than lose a prized employee. The person who has them manages to find a blog that tried that.

Among other things, which is to how Henry Ford got started as a process.

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