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danaewrites reblogged
Anonymous asked:
bodyguard!james taking care of a sick girl who's just tired and in dire need of touch (not at all self-indulgent, love you angel!!)
“Is this part of the job description?”
James can barely understand your mumbling. He helps you up another step, then the last, his arm behind your back to keep you steady. “Absolutely. If I let you walk up the stairs all by yourself you would have fallen.” He slows now you're on the landing, checking over your waxy face with concern. “Almost there, shortcake.”
“M'not short.”
Whether you are or you aren't isn't the point. “You're short to me, and you're sweet. Hence, shortcake.” The hallway to your room is long and wide, a luxurious arrangement, but eventually it comes to and end, and the door to your suite beckons. “Okay, here we are. Good job, sweetheart, you made it all the way here.”
“Don't patronise me.”
He pretends he doesn't hear you. It isn't hard, you're barely talking, your face lolled to one side, the collar of your stiff shirt digging into your neck.
James pretty much carries you to the small platform that houses your bed, pulling the sheets back and encouraging you to sit. You collapse immediately downward, missing all your pillows, your breath coming in shallow pants. Your stuffy nose is stressing you out and the stairs were hard for you.
He kneels down by your legs where they hang over the edge and rubs your knee. “Alright,” he says gently. “I'll take your shoes off.”
“Don't have to.”
“Don't be silly. Can't have you sleeping in your clothes.”
“‘Cos you're such gentleman,” you whisper dazedly.
He peeks up to find you've turned your face into your sheets. You draw lazy shapes with a trembling hand over the stretch of them, somewhere else.
James unties your laces and pulls your shoes off. He kisses your knee, only stopping to think maybe he shouldn't have when he stands and your shuttered eyes have widened. He turns still as a statue, waiting for the reprimand, the (more than allowed) demand that he leave you be, but your eyes soften again and you smile at him like he's hung the moon in front of you. You're amazed.
“Poor girl, you're very poorly, aren't you?” he asks.
“I'm quite warm.”
He offers his hand. When you nod, he presses the back of it to your forehead and feels downward. You're as warm as you say, not worryingly so but uncomfortably for sure. James turns his hand, holds his palm flat to your hairline.
“If I leave you your pyjamas, can you change by yourself?”
“No.” You fluster at your own answer. “I–I don't think so. But I can sleep fine, I'll just take off my trousers.”
You can barely string a sentence together, words running together, syllables missing as your voice grows hoarse. James will figure something out, he decides, stroking near the edge of your forehead fondly. “No pyjamas, then. You'll be okay while I get you a cold flannel?”
“M'fine.”
James pushes his hands under you and manhandles you into a more regular position, a soft pillow firmly under your head, your princess sheets plump to the touch. “C'mere,” he says under his breath, moving to the collar of your shirt, “let me get that for you.”
“Thank you.”
He pops one button, a second, working his fingers under the collar to push it away from your throat. You're silent beside the struggle of breath, your nose whistling with each one.
He's struck with wanting to be more. More than your guard, and more than your friend. He'd like to take care of you intimately, crawl into bed next to you and hold you, rub your back, just keep you company while you're in pain. But he can't do any of that, and as soon as you're comfortable, he'll be back at the door. Waiting for you, like he always is.
“I'm sorry you're not feeling well,” he says.
“I feel much better now, all your touching,” you assure him, your eyes closing of their own accord. “Just… tired…”
James gives your cheek a quick hold. He straightens up, squares his stickying smile into a neutral expression, and goes to get that wet flannel for you. All your touching, he thinks, shaking his head. Maybe you'd like it if he crawled into bed with you after all.
Helmet Over Heels
part iv: hooked on a feeling
din djarin x reader // read it on AO3
word count: 5.7k
summary: When your path literally collides with a beskar-covered Mandalorian one night, neither of you expect how that meeting will irreversibly change the trajectory of your lives.
You’re pulled into his powerful orbit, agreeing to take care of his son in exchange for adventure and freedom– when he’s not off hunting bounties and inadvertently saving villages in need, that is. It’s the perfect plan. Or it would be, if only your quiet crush on the man would stop growing into something more with every hour you spend together. There’s no way he’d ever feel the same, right?
And Din? Well, he’s been trying (and failing) to convince himself that he’s not completely helmet over heels for you since day one. But a Mandalorian can only repress his emotions for so long…
(This fic takes place sometime after Season 2. Din’s back on his bounty-hunting business with a Razor Crest that was never destroyed and an adorable green sidekick who won’t stop chewing on its wires.)
tags: strangers to friends to lovers, slow-ish burn, nicknames, touch-starved din djarin and fem!reader, canon-compliant through season 2 and then Jesus takes the wheel :P
author's notes:
this chapter officially marks the beginning of the *main* plot arc. if you’ve stuck with me this far, please accept my endless gratitude and know that things are about to get exponentially more interesting ;)
p.s. if you want faster updates, my ao3 readers usually get new chapters a week earlier than the tumblrinas <3
Weeks passed, and you settled into a routine on the Crest with unexpected ease. You split your days between caring for Grogu—which consisted mostly of cooing enthusiastically at his crayon scribbles and soothing his tired cries until he fell asleep—and testing out which recipes garnered the best reactions from his stoic father. On a particularly busy morning, you’d left a tray of rolls in the oven for too long and didn’t notice the smoke until Mando burst through the doorway in a panic. That was definitely a reaction, though not quite the one you’d been hoping for. And a rather expensive one, too, since he’d broken the automatic closing mechanism with the force of his entry.
But your nights… the best of your nights were spent in the passenger seat of the cockpit, eyes tracing an endless path through hyperspace until you drifted off to the sound of breaths under beskar. You’d bought enough blankets in Nevarro to stay comfortable in the leather seat, although you still woke up to find Mando’s cloak draped over you when the icy chill of deep space permeated the ship. On a good night, one where he’d returned quickly from a hunt and had energy to spare on conversation, you’d punctuate the quiet with the occasional question. They ranged from serious—whether he’d been born Mandalorian (no), why his beskar was so important (forging and wearing the sacred metal was an essential part of the Mandalorian Creed)— to absurd.
He’d been rather bemused when you asked him what his favorite flavor of sprinkles was, but you remained stubbornly tethered to your position that questions like those were quite important when judging someone’s character. That was, as long as the interviewee had an actual answer. Apparently, growing up in a hidden Mandalorian covert limited one’s interaction with dessert toppings.
And to your surprise, he returned the gesture. You’d stumbled into the cockpit late one night, wide–eyed and restless. Grogu had been particularly fussy that day, and you’d assumed that the exhausting effort you put in would shuttle you straight to dreamland. Instead, you found yourself tossing and turning for hours in the soft nest of blankets Mando had previously arranged into a makeshift bed for you. So you’d quietly climbed out of the hull, hoping to find some rest under the stars—or at least allow their muted glow to numb your racing thoughts.
He’d silently acknowledged your arrival by unclasping his cloak and tossing it onto your lap. You’d mumbled a soft “thank you,” simultaneously embarrassed that he knew you preferred it to a blanket and pleased at the attentive gesture. At least he didn’t know why you liked the charcoal fabric so much, you reasoned. Your hand found the button that released the backrest, and you exhaled softly as your torso dipped backwards with the seat. You curled up underneath the cloak, letting its heavy weight slowly subdue your tense muscles into a more comfortable position.
“I never thanked you for what you did at the cantina.” Mando’s baritone broke through the quiet, low and soothing.
#din djarin#fem reader#friends to lovers#the mandalorian#baby yoda#best friends to lovers#clan of two#din djarin angst#the mandalorian x you#the mandalorian x reader#grogu#mando#din grogu#mando fluff#mando fic#mando x you#mando x reader#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin x female reader#mando x fem reader#one bed trope#peli motto#peli motto fanfiction
danaewrites reblogged
Last Sentence / WIP Wednesday
Rules: Post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic / original / anything) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence.
Tagged by @nerdieforpedro, thanks Nerdie!
His loyalty to his son means he can’t fuck the babysitter, so Maia belongs to the kid, and Din is alone.
I’m still writing the smutty one from last week, don’t worry. This is just a little something extra I’m cooking up for @beskarandblasters’ Din Djarin Fic Club Drabble Event.
21 words, 21 alphabetised no pressure tags for people whose writing I admire 💜:
still feels crazy to be moots with the incomparable jyar'ika 🥹🫶 love your writing SO much, i can't believe you've read (and enjoyed!!) mine <333
Apparently, growing up in a hidden Mandalorian covert limits one’s interaction with dessert toppings.
(i am unfortunately still rather new to this side of tumblr, so i am opening up this little tag game to anyone interested!)
Aww Natalie, your writing is soo good! I love Helmet Over Heels… seriously, when Din explained about the colours of the Cresser Nebula affecting what they see in hyperspace I was just 😍😍😍 I’m really looking forward to chapter 4! 🫶🏻 And this line?? Omg I love it!! I need to feed Din desserts immediately! 🥹
omg thank you for making my day with this sweet comment!!! chapter four is coming very soon (with desserts <333)
danaewrites reblogged
This 👀👀👀
(@ sixsixzee on tiktok)
danaewrites reblogged
Last Sentence / WIP Wednesday
Rules: Post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic / original / anything) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence.
Tagged by @nerdieforpedro, thanks Nerdie!
His loyalty to his son means he can’t fuck the babysitter, so Maia belongs to the kid, and Din is alone.
I’m still writing the smutty one from last week, don’t worry. This is just a little something extra I’m cooking up for @beskarandblasters’ Din Djarin Fic Club Drabble Event.
21 words, 21 alphabetised no pressure tags for people whose writing I admire 💜:
still feels crazy to be moots with the incomparable jyar'ika 🥹🫶 love your writing SO much, i can't believe you've read (and enjoyed!!) mine <333
Apparently, growing up in a hidden Mandalorian covert limits one’s interaction with dessert toppings.
(i am unfortunately still rather new to this side of tumblr, so i am opening up this little tag game to anyone interested!)
danaewrites reblogged
tv shows with time travel organizations/bureaus/police/agencies/whatever should have a department with instead of a tech genius eating candy, it’s a harried seamstress or fashion designer who is like
“1450 italy? does it look like I have the time to dye you wool? nO. YOU’RE GOING TO THE 1980s”
and throws shoulder pads at the hapless time agent
“I literally made three- THREE- 18th century corsets last week. You can wait until one of them gets back, or you can go sometime post-1920s, because if I have to sew one more god damn channel I will literally lose my mind.”
“Upper middle class?!?!? You told me upper class! FUCK YEAH THERE’S A DIFFERENCE!!!”
“How about kimoNO.”
“Look me in the eyes. I do not care what you want. This is the 1500s. You absolutely cannot wear trousers.”
“Another court gown?? Here’s a novel idea: go as a peasant for once in your life. Why do you do this to me? You’re fucking sadists that’s why.”
“Don’t mind me, I’ll just be up all night hand painting silk.”
“THE POLICY IS ONE MONTH’S ADVANCE NOTICE ON PRE-1900s WOMEN’S FASHION FOR A REASON, DEBRA.”
“Upper middle class?!?!?
You told me upper class! FUCK
YEAH THERE’S A DIFFERENCE!!!”
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
danaewrites reblogged
Dear professor this assignment did not nourish my fundamentally curious soul so i did not do it No penalty full 100 points please Goodbye!
danaewrites reblogged
If people love my fics it feels like they love and approve of a very real and deep part of me
danaewrites reblogged
super late but here’s a very specific ship dynamic i’ve been obssessed with recently
danaewrites reblogged
Helmet Over Heels
part iii: harder to hide than i thought
din djarin x reader // read it on AO3
word count: 4.2k
summary: When your path literally collides with a beskar-covered Mandalorian one night, neither of you expect how that meeting will irreversibly change the trajectory of your lives.
You’re pulled into his powerful orbit, agreeing to take care of his son in exchange for adventure and freedom– when he’s not off hunting bounties and inadvertently saving villages in need, that is. It’s the perfect plan. Or it would be, if only your quiet crush on the man would stop growing into something more with every hour you spend together. There’s no way he’d ever feel the same, right?
And Din? Well, he’s been trying (and failing) to convince himself that he’s not completely helmet over heels for you since day one. But a Mandalorian can only repress his emotions for so long…
(This fic takes place sometime after Season 2. Din’s back on his bounty-hunting business with a Razor Crest that was never destroyed and an adorable green sidekick who won’t stop chewing on its wires.)
tags: strangers to friends to lovers, slow-ish burn, nicknames, touch-starved din djarin and fem!reader, canon-compliant through season 2 and then Jesus takes the wheel :P
author's notes:
the first part of this chapter is very much inspired by Space Song by Beach House. imagining the pretty lights of hyperspace instead of the slope fields i’m working on in calculus has kept me sane, so hopefully you beautiful readers have as much fun with that as i did!
You slowly stirred to consciousness, face scrunching up at the heat of the sun on your face. Memories flowed back to you in disjointed flashes, slowly piecing together the setting of your current prone, relaxed state.
You’d spent the night mesmerized by the bright lights of hyperspace that lit up the darkness beyond the ship’s windows, fighting the sleep that threatened to lower your eyelids. You tried your best to remain quiet and allow Mando to pilot you through the galaxy in peace, but you couldn’t help the gasp that slipped out when the white beams momentarily faded into pastel shades of lilac and chartreuse. His helmet snapped sharply towards you at the sudden noise, tensed shoulders only relaxing once he saw the awed expression on your face.
“You haven’t seen this before?” He sounded surprised, and for a moment you felt embarrassment twist in your stomach at your lack of travel experience. He sighed, baritone turning low and thoughtful. “Come here.” He gestured for you to lean closer to him, directing your attention to a small cluster of dots on the navigation holoscreen.
“We’re passing through the Cresser Nebula. The original star died too recently for the dust to fully disperse,” he explained. “The extra material makes the hyperspace tunnel thinner for a moment– those colors are the new stars forming outside of it in the leftover gas.” He spoke with an unexpected patience, and you wondered whether he’d learned it from attempting to teach Grogu. In your experience, trying to keep the green baby’s focus for longer than a minute was a constant challenge.
You’d hung onto his careful speech, memorizing every detail as he continued his quiet tour of the cosmos. It was the first time you’d ever truly heard about the intricacies of space; your overwhelming focus on surviving Nath’s harsh environment generally took up any extra time you could’ve used to learn about the rest of the galaxy. You didn’t intend to let a single lesson of his go to waste, not when you were finally free to hear them.
You snuck a glance at the reflection of his silver helmet in the arched window, admiring how the lights shimmered across the beskar. You wondered what he was looking at beneath the metal mask: the pretty blur of hyperspace, his blinking console, or maybe the tiny lever where Grogu’s ball rested? There was just so much to watch, from the endlessly flickering radar screen to the breathtaking display of deep space beyond the glass paneling. You didn’t think you’d ever get sick of the view; you’d stay on his ship for the rest of your life if it meant you could enjoy the peace of hyperspace every night. Despite your pondering, his visor gave nothing away, and you forced yourself to pull your eyes away before he caught you staring.
damn i miss season 1 and season 2 din🥺🥺🥺
hlove how beautifully and detailed you described the environment and inner thoughts of reader!!
omg thank you so much for your sweet comment, it absolutely made my night!! <333 that means so much, i'm so glad you enjoyed my fic. more to come soon!! :))
(p.s. me too.... s1 and s2 din my BELOVED. i'm still kinda salty that season 3 got turned into the bo katan show a bit lol)
danaewrites reblogged
𝕟𝕠 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕒𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘: 𝕠𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣
a farmer's market steve harrington x reader au part 1[7.2k] | part 2[8.3k] | au masterlist
OCTOBER
The rain starts halfway through the first market of October. It comes without warning; a chilly Saturday with scattered clouds turns dark and the bite in the air seeps into your bones. The crowd thins in a matter of minutes despite the promise of a market rain or shine, since a summer rain can be something free and spontaneous. A fall rain is bound to end in a cold.
"Do you need help?" Joyce asks. It's barely started to drizzle but you can see the dark drops marking her jacket. "I think we can close early. Jonathan is almost done with the flowers, I'll send him over here --"
"No, I'm okay," you tell her. You shove candles and jars of honey into your crates with as much care as you can spare. The pickup is just around the corner and you can load everything yourself even if your back will feel it later. "Really, I'm sure other people can use the help more!" Joyce tuts but runs off. As soon as she does the rain picks up. You can feel it spray onto your face from the wind, feel it soak into the wool sweater you're wearing.
danaewrites reblogged
nine facts, one lie
summary: It didn’t matter that your best friend Robin claims he’s changed, you do not like Steve Harrington. He used to be egotistical, a player, an asshole — and you’re not in any hurry to believe he’s changed his ways.
Never mind that he seems terribly kind now, compliments here and there, or even that he’ll pick you up from a date gone horribly wrong… [16.5k]
[one sided enemies to lovers — you hate steve and by god, does he want to change that] dedicated to my dearest kenny
Fact #1: You did not, under any circumstance, like Steve Harrington.
It doesn’t matter what Dustin says nor the smug roll of Robin’s eyes, you knew it yourself even if no one else believed it; you did not like Steve Harrington.
From everything you’ve ever heard about the guy, it was a surprise that he still had any friends — especially with the likes of your friends, a fact that makes you gag when Robin brings it up.
Robin, lovely best friend Robin, who completely betrayed you by associating herself willingly with Steve.
Since the beginning of high school, the two of you had been thick as thieves. Gossip was spilled between the two of you frequently, juicy enough to make even Carol Perkins’ head spin — you talked often enough that it got you split up during class time constantly, giggles too loud to be contained.
Being at the bottom of the social food-chain —or maybe worse, completely unseen to your peers— there was nothing like sharing snarky remarks between you and Robin about the dunderheads who ‘ruled’ the school through idiotic popularity.
Robin had a particular dislike for Tina Burgess ever since she’d started the rumour that girls in band were freaks in the sheets and would put out to anyone who would ask. You weren’t sure what had been worse: the obvious dig that Robin wasn’t getting any or the slimy guys who believed it and had the guts to ask.
You, however, distinctly despised the likes of King Steve.
Helmet Over Heels
part iii: harder to hide than i thought
din djarin x reader // read it on AO3
word count: 4.2k
summary: When your path literally collides with a beskar-covered Mandalorian one night, neither of you expect how that meeting will irreversibly change the trajectory of your lives.
You’re pulled into his powerful orbit, agreeing to take care of his son in exchange for adventure and freedom– when he’s not off hunting bounties and inadvertently saving villages in need, that is. It’s the perfect plan. Or it would be, if only your quiet crush on the man would stop growing into something more with every hour you spend together. There’s no way he’d ever feel the same, right?
And Din? Well, he’s been trying (and failing) to convince himself that he’s not completely helmet over heels for you since day one. But a Mandalorian can only repress his emotions for so long…
(This fic takes place sometime after Season 2. Din’s back on his bounty-hunting business with a Razor Crest that was never destroyed and an adorable green sidekick who won’t stop chewing on its wires.)
tags: strangers to friends to lovers, slow-ish burn, nicknames, touch-starved din djarin and fem!reader, canon-compliant through season 2 and then Jesus takes the wheel :P
author's notes:
the first part of this chapter is very much inspired by Space Song by Beach House. imagining the pretty lights of hyperspace instead of the slope fields i’m working on in calculus has kept me sane, so hopefully you beautiful readers have as much fun with that as i did!
You slowly stirred to consciousness, face scrunching up at the heat of the sun on your face. Memories flowed back to you in disjointed flashes, slowly piecing together the setting of your current prone, relaxed state.
You’d spent the night mesmerized by the bright lights of hyperspace that lit up the darkness beyond the ship’s windows, fighting the sleep that threatened to lower your eyelids. You tried your best to remain quiet and allow Mando to pilot you through the galaxy in peace, but you couldn’t help the gasp that slipped out when the white beams momentarily faded into pastel shades of lilac and chartreuse. His helmet snapped sharply towards you at the sudden noise, tensed shoulders only relaxing once he saw the awed expression on your face.
“You haven’t seen this before?” He sounded surprised, and for a moment you felt embarrassment twist in your stomach at your lack of travel experience. He sighed, baritone turning low and thoughtful. “Come here.” He gestured for you to lean closer to him, directing your attention to a small cluster of dots on the navigation holoscreen.
“We’re passing through the Cresser Nebula. The original star died too recently for the dust to fully disperse,” he explained. “The extra material makes the hyperspace tunnel thinner for a moment– those colors are the new stars forming outside of it in the leftover gas.” He spoke with an unexpected patience, and you wondered whether he’d learned it from attempting to teach Grogu. In your experience, trying to keep the green baby’s focus for longer than a minute was a constant challenge.
You’d hung onto his careful speech, memorizing every detail as he continued his quiet tour of the cosmos. It was the first time you’d ever truly heard about the intricacies of space; your overwhelming focus on surviving Nath’s harsh environment generally took up any extra time you could’ve used to learn about the rest of the galaxy. You didn’t intend to let a single lesson of his go to waste, not when you were finally free to hear them.
You snuck a glance at the reflection of his silver helmet in the arched window, admiring how the lights shimmered across the beskar. You wondered what he was looking at beneath the metal mask: the pretty blur of hyperspace, his blinking console, or maybe the tiny lever where Grogu’s ball rested? There was just so much to watch, from the endlessly flickering radar screen to the breathtaking display of deep space beyond the glass paneling. You didn’t think you’d ever get sick of the view; you’d stay on his ship for the rest of your life if it meant you could enjoy the peace of hyperspace every night. Despite your pondering, his visor gave nothing away, and you forced yourself to pull your eyes away before he caught you staring.
#baby yoda#friends to lovers#clan of two#din djarin#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin angst#din djarin fic#best friends to lovers#fem reader#the mandalorian fanfic#the mandalorian#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian/reader#the mandalorian/you#the mandalorian x you#din djarin x you#din djarin x reader#din djarin fluff#slow burn
danaewrites reblogged
Just One More Thing
𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘶𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘶𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦. 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦’𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦.
A/N: requests are still closedforever! this is an exception for my love @darkacademicvibes as a thank you for being such a lovely friend 🥰 i hope i did it justice! WC: 1.7k
“I know you’re there.” You announce, eyes still closed as you lay under a tree by the Black Lake.
“That’s just creepy.” Remus comments, to which you snicker in amusement, finally peeking one eye open to smile up at him.
“Says the man silently watching me.” You fire back before closing your eyes once more.
Remus lets out an offended “Hey!”, making you giggle.
“You’re quite rude, you know?”
the order of the phoenix: @kquil @jessiegerl @scentisterror @evilhanded @thottae @robins-goth-alt-gf @thv-films @googie-jeon @ttulipwritezz @vanessa-b @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @ietss @meangirlsx @stars-havefallen @fandomrulesall-blog @apeainapot @starriesworlds @cassie6392 @desikudisworld @yournamee @jsjcue @bookishirishdancer @mypurplewinee @cometsghost @the-abyss-gazed-back @wolfmoonmusic @coffeehurricanes @kazimierasm @opalesquegirl @ttkttt @justeli6 @amiableness @ladystardust05
danaewrites reblogged
Can I please request some mando'a endearments/nicknames?
Hey, I just wanna apologize for the delay to answering this !! And also, just as a forewarning, this list is nowhere near exhaustive, just bc of the sheer … flexibility of mando’a to accommodate personal needs. Since this question is also a little general, I’ll go into the more popular endearments, and then a few suggested constructions you can use.
Before I get started though, I just wanted to note that mando’a is funny as a language in that … many, many words can be used as affectionate terms, depending on who says what to who. So words that may have literal meanings (say, for example, night sky, or mountain, or sea) can also be used as terms of endearment, especially if ner, my, is placed in front.
Endearment is, often, more than just the terms we have at our disposal from a predefined list, and what may be used to express affection and endearment from one person might be offensive and insulting from another. It, like most things, depends on context and delivery.
Consider these words and how, in different contexts, they might be used to present affection, or as nicknames:
- atin’la — tough
- ca’tra — night sky
- cerar — mountain
- sarad — flower
Anyway, that said, I’m gonna start with the basics and further down we’ll move on to more complex terms. This is also cut for length.
Just the list to expect w/ explanations:
- ‘ika — diminutive suffix and its (appropriate) uses
- burc’ya — friend
- vod — sibling, companion, friend
- cyar / cyar’ika — beloved
- riduur — partner, spouse
- kar’ta — heart
- mesh’la — beautiful, handsome
- meshurok — gemstone
- riye — favor, good turn
- runi — soul
- sarad — flower
- an’edee — all bite
- n’edeemi — no bite
- kair’ta — [my] desperate heart
- Jango-specific endearments towards his clone sons (if you’re curious)
edit:: and there’s a follow-up post to further clarify
danaewrites reblogged
