#I don’t wanna tag anything else because spoilers

[shy-the-trash-lion]

Hi I finished Raincode on Monday and it has engulfed my entire being

A post of arts and spoilers are coming soon! ✨

#I’ve literally been so into this game that I COULD NOT DRAW ANYTHING ELSE #i love these characters so much #RAINCODE PEEPS BE READY #Also you may wanna block the raincode tag if you don’t wanna see spoilers from moi #because it is COMING VERY SOON

[millersdjarin]

I Only See Daylight

Chapter Four

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: E (eventually)

Chapter warnings/tags: slow burn, dad!din, bonding, injuries (not in detail), negative self-talk, mentions of past trauma/abuse

Chapter Length: 4.2k

Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist & Info

notes: im sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than the others! if it's any consolation, a few of the chapters in this fic are 10k, so there's that. :) i've set a posting schedule of mondays and thursdays, but this week i'm posting on sunday because i'm going to be travelling on monday and i have to stay off tumblr to avoid tlou spoilers until the evening. so, surprise :)

i don't wanna look at anything else now that i saw you

“How do you feel?” Is the first thing you hear when you wake, rolling over on your makeshift bed to find Mando standing at the cave entrance again. He’s leaning against the wall with one shoulder, his hip cocked out, one leg bent casually. 

Kriffing hells, how is he so attractive when all you can see of him is his posture and his impossibly shiny armour? 

You force the thought from your mind, blaming it on your half-asleep state. 

“I don’t know yet,” you answer with a grimace. It’s been two days since your fall. The pain is better, though the rest of your body feels stiff now, muscle soreness finally catching up with you after the tumble. There hasn’t been another storm, at least, so Mando has managed to hunt for every meal so far. He goes out to get water every morning, filling canteens to the brim. He makes you drink so much that sometimes it feels like you’re swimming in it. “Hydration helps with healing,” he says every time, even though you already know; he says it just to counter your playful glaring at him every time he hands you the flask. 

“Sun rose not that long ago,” he cranes his neck to gaze up at the sky, “if you’re feeling up to it, we can probably travel today.” 

You manage to sit up, but the minute you do, pain shoots down from the wound on your calf and into your ankle. It circles there around the joint and throbs. “Have we got any more ice packs?” 

“One more,” Mando answers as he heads right over to his medpack and gets it out. 

“We should ration it,” you hold out your hand to stop him activating it. “For when we’re travelling. I’ll probably need it.” 

He looks down at the pack, hesitates. Then nods and puts it away. “Do you think you’ll be okay to travel today? If so, we should move soon, make the most of the daylight.”

Shifting a little, you try to get a gage on your body, how it feels. A grimace makes its way onto your face without your consent. Everything hurts. Literally everything. Muscles you didn’t even know you had are strained and stiff. 

But you’ve been here for two days. He’s been stranded here for four. 

“If the answer is anything but yes,” his voice cuts through your rapidly declining thoughts, “then my answer is no.” 

Relieved, you smile. But you protest, “Mando, you’ve stayed with me so long now. I can make my own way back.” 

“No,” he says definitively. “We move when you’re ready.” 

You relax, settling back against the wall. You’re too sore to argue. 

“The kid’s enjoying the vacation, anyway,” Mando says, the lilt of a smile in his voice. 

As if summoned, Grogu steps forward from his little bed at the back of the cave. He yawns, his tiny mouth opening as wide as it can go, his eyes screwing shut. 

Oh, Maker, he is adorable. 

“You take time off a lot?” You ask with a wry smile as Mando scoops the kid up into his arms. 

The huff of a laugh comes through his helmet. “Not really.” 

“Why am I not surprised?”

Mando tickles Grogu’s cheek, earning a little giggle. 

You watch them. There’s that warmth again, creeping its way between your ribs, around your heart. 

You have to look away. 

All three of you are starting to get a little stir crazy by the time the night comes around. 

You’re feeling better, though. Mando’s hydration obsession is working to help loosen out your stiff muscles. It doesn’t help, though, that you have to keep getting up every hour to pee. Especially because you have to tell Mando every time nature calls, which is, admittedly, rather humiliating—it shouldn’t be, it’s fucking natural, but he’s Mando and he’s been making you feel a certain way, and you don’t want to have to admit to this terrifying yet comforting man that you have to piss. It’s even worse that he has to help you hobble outside, then walk away while you do your business, and come back and pretend to not notice the puddle sinking into the ground. 

It’s demoralising. Your cheeks are tired from flushing red all the time. 

But he insists on you drinking enough, even when you protest. 

“I don’t mind doing this, you know,” he says as the sun sets, an arm around you as you hobble to the designated Nature Area. 

“Yes, you do,” you grumble, kind of just wanting the ground to open up and swallow you whole. 

“I don’t,” he insists. “It’s fine. Besides, it’s good to move a little.” 

“A little? Mando, it’s every hour, on the hour, at this point.” 

The unfamiliar sound of a soft laugh comes through his helmet. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it sounded fond. But you’ve never heard a laugh like that. So. “It’s good. Just call me back when you’re ready.” 

He never comes back until you call, no matter how long it takes you.

It isn’t lost on you, either, that you never would have been able to do this on your own. You’d have had to piss where you sat. Which seems like a worse concept than just ruining your leg, and subsequent mobility, forever by forcing yourself to walk home. 

As darkness approaches, Mando takes his flashlight—yours is long dead by now—and puts it in the far end of the cave. He stays over there, rustling in his pack for something. Curious, you watch, wondering what he’s doing; he angles the light strangely, propping it up with a few stray rocks on the ground, and then fishes out a small piece of canvas, pulled from what remained of your tent. He puts it over the flashlight, folds it once. 

Then, the light is softer. Diffused around the cave. 

Grogu, who is sitting against the wall playing with a little silver ball, looks up at the newly-lit cave walls and laughs in glee. 

“You like it, kid?” Mando asks him. 

The kid claps his hands together, gazing around. Mando laughs softly and sits back down beside the kid, watching him. 

You’re watching Mando. It’s impossible not to, with the soft light reflecting from his armour in a new way, casting new highlights and shadows across every curve and edge. You wonder what places he’s been, how he’d look in all kinds of light. Harsh, bright, sunshine of a bright summer’s day, the dark ashy colour beneath rain clouds. 

“Mando?” You find yourself saying. 

He looks up at you, one hand holding the kid. 

“Tell me about somewhere else you’ve been,” you request. “Please?” 

“Where do you want to hear about?” 

“Anywhere. First place that comes to mind.” 

For a second, he’s quiet, just looking at you. Considering. When he speaks, he doesn’t say what you expected him to, and his voice is softer than it should be. “You really want to travel, don’t you?” 

And, okay. 

That hits a nerve. 

You look away, blinking. It’s clear that you’ve tensed, that something has made you uncomfortable; and you expect him to backtrack, to apologise, but he just waits. So patient, like he wouldn’t mind if you didn’t say anything, or even if you just told him to fuck right off. You wish you could see his face, decipher his expression. Match it to the soft curiosity of his lovely voice. 

“Yeah,” you manage on a shaky breath, imagining yourself up there, in the vastness of space, free to explore the Galaxy. “Yeah, I do.” 

Quiet again. He’s giving you space. 

You take it, let it sink in. 

Then, his voice is there again, “So why don’t you?”

And if that isn’t a question and a half. “It’s, uh,” you clear your throat. You’re about to say it’s complicated. But that doesn’t even cover the half of it. Instead, feeling a cold, familiar dread slowly creeping through your veins, you say, “I like it here.” 

He doesn’t say anything, but he looks at you still, some kind of unexplainable patience coming from his dark visor. 

It’s unclear if he can hear the omission of the truth.

You don’t want to lie to him. 

You’re sitting here, in a cave that he so beautifully lit as best he can, on top of a bed that he made just for you to be comfortable, after he’s helped you pee about twelve times a day for the last two days. He’s been nothing but kind. 

And it’s not that you feel like you owe him answers because of that. Nor, in fact, that you think he feels you owe him answers. His quiet, unassuming patience in the dim intimacy of this cave is proof enough of that. 

No, it’s not that. 

It’s that you’ve been alone for so long. You’ve never said this to anyone.

And after all this, once you’re back at your hut and you’ve fixed his ship together, he’s going to leave. And you’re never going to see him again, anyway. 

So. 

“Truthfully,” you say, “as much as I like it here, it’s not where I’d choose to be. If I had another choice.” 

Instead of staying still and silent, he starts to nod. His gaze is unwavering, solid and stable, weaving its way into the tension and uncertainty beneath your skin, soothing it.

Grogu gets up and waddles over to you. He climbs clumsily into your lap.

Then, with a quick look to Grogu, Mando says, “I understand.”

And that, those simple words, make something release in your chest.

The weight of your confession doesn’t feel as heavy as you’d expected. In fact, it feels like something has lifted in the air between the three of you. Like even the kid understands. 

Well.

This is new. 

-

As the third morning in the cave rolls around, you wake up feeling much better. 

Once you’ve relieved your always-full bladder, you tell Mando as much, staggering back into the cave and to your bed. “You can stop over-watering me now,” you tease as he lets you back against the wall, gentle. Your hands are on the backs of his arms, and slide all the way down them as he moves away. You wish you could linger there, and the way he moves so slowly, his visor gazing down into your sleepy eyes, makes you think that he wishes that, too. 

As your palms brush against his wrists, he seems to catch himself. He pulls away quickly and turns to distract himself with the kid.

“So, you’re ready to travel?” He asks. 

“As I’ll ever be,” you reply, staring at him from behind. He has a nice behind. (And you need to stop. Immediately.)

“You can lean on me. We’ll take it slow, I promise.” 

Kriff, say that again… “I’ll be alright. You’ve got enough to carry.” 

He looks at you again. “I’m leaving the parts here,” he says, like that should be obvious. 

“What?” You frown. “But your ship…” 

“Once we find our way back, and you’re safe, I’ll come back for them.” 

“Mando, I can manage. Seriously, we should take the parts. You’ve been here long enough.” 

The helmet tilts. “You trying to get rid of me?” It would concern you, if the teasing in his tone wasn’t arousingly obvious.

You just about manage to recover from the stirring in your belly, and you laugh, “Totally. Sick of you already.” 

The kid, standing beside him, looks at you and makes a sad noise. His ears turn down towards the ground. 

Kriff. “Hey, I’m just kidding,” you assure him with a smile. As a peace offering, you reach your hands out to him, and he relaxes in an instant, immediately plodding over to you and climbing into your lap. You hold him, give him a quick hug, then just let him sit there. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m actually gonna miss you,” you whisper into his ear. He coos happily, tugging at a loose thread on your coat.

When you look up, Mando is, of course, staring at you. This time, you know for sure that it’s at both you and the kid.

“What?” You ask. 

“Nothing,” he answers after a moment of hesitation. “I’m going to pack up. Then we can move. You okay to sit with the kid?” 

“You know I am,” you smile, and watch as Mando nods and heads outside.

That pang in your chest is back. Well, you’re not sure when it turned from a slow warmth into a pang. 

But it’s there. Too obvious to ignore. 

For a few miles, you manage pretty well. It took some convincing, but you got Mando to agree to taking the parts along with him in the end. You do lean on him, but only when moving over particularly rough terrain, fallen logs, or exposed tree roots. 

“How we doing?” Mando asks at around noon. 

“Fine,” you say, feeling a little breathless. 

“You sure?” 

“I’m sure. We can stop soon for a break.” 

Another hour passes, your ankle is starting to throb, and you’re really fucking glad that you saved that ice pack for this exact moment. 

Mando sits you down on a fallen log, keeping his arm around you until you’re properly seated, lingering just a little too long for you to tame the way it makes your heart beat wildly. To feel the heat of him through his flight suit, your hands and arms pressed to parts of him not covered by armour, just the soft parts; it’s a lot. When you first saw him, this wall of metal, you never thought you’d see any further than that. Kriff, you never even thought he’d get closer to your hut than he was when you had your blaster pointed at him. 

Maybe that would have been best. Because if he’d just left, if there was another way for him to get the help he needed, you wouldn’t be thinking about him the way you are right now. 

The softness of the crook of his elbow, the curve of his waist and hip. The warmth of his skin that you have yet to see an inch of. All of the weapons strapped to him, so close to you, close enough that if it were anyone else, you’d be scared. 

But it’s Mando. 

This might be the least scared you’ve been in a lifetime. 

He cracks the ice pack to activate it, then kneels down in front of you. Reaching out to grab a smaller log, he places it under your ankle, elevates your leg slightly. Then his gloved fingers tug at the hem of your trousers. “Can I?” He asks. 

Kriff. You nod, unable to form words. 

The rough-yet-smoothness of the gloves is all you feel at first, brushing delicately against your skin as he lifts your trousers, then unlaces your boots, gently pulling them off, followed by your socks. Your ankle is more swollen than it had been this morning, but you’d expected that. 

And, besides, that is not what you’re thinking about right now. 

Instead your mind can only focus on the softness of his hold under your foot, the gentle way he places the ice pack on top of it. The heat of his hand starts to come through. You wish it was his bare skin. Wish you knew what his skin is like. Is it calloused, or soft from always protecting them? Does he have scars? Is the hair on his arms dark, light, a thin covering or thicker, perfect to run your fingers through—

His hands are gone before you realise it. It takes your glitching mind a second to catch up.

You chase him with your eyes, silently wishing for him to come back. 

But then. 

Then. 

As he turns away, he reaches for the flask in his satchel. You watch his hands lift to his helmet, take a gentle hold of the base of it. At first you panic, thinking he’s about to remove his helmet, no you don’t have to do that it’s okay—

But he just lifts it the tiniest bit, such a small movement that you only know it has been lifted because he puts the rim of his flask to his lips and takes a sip. 

You can’t see his skin, not a hint of it. But you can hear him drinking, hear the water against his lips, the gentle gulps as he swallows. 

And the way it entrances you, takes you away from the forest and the pain of your ankle and the fact that this is so not appropriate for you to be thinking—yeah, it’s probably for the best that he can’t ever show his face to you.

You look away before he even lowers the helmet again. 

-

Maybe the worst part about all this is that you’re starting to dread Mando and the kid leaving. 

That’s not how this was supposed to go, not how any of this was supposed to play out. You helped him because it was the right thing to do, because it’s exactly what They would tell you not to do, because your life has been the same every single fucking day since you got here. 

But that’s been fine. It’s been safe. 

“Pass me that wrench?” Mando asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

You pass him it, noting the tilt of his helmet in a wordless ‘thanks’ before he turns back to his job. He’s up on a ladder, leaning against the ship’s exterior wall with one of the panels fully off, fixing something to do with the foundation for the body. 

His ship is bigger than you’d expected. He tells you that it’s bigger than his old ship, the Razor Crest, but only by a little. “It’s a similar shape,” he’d said, “but it has two bunks and more space. For the kid.” He has a star fighter too, apparently, docked at some other base off-world with a friend of his. It’s funny to imagine him with friends, though you’re not sure why. Especially because, since getting to know him the last few days, you know how generous he is. How kind, helpful. Gentle, despite everything. 

Why wouldn’t he have friends?

Beneath him, you sit on a crate and lean against the ship, waiting for him to give you more instructions. The engine has been mostly fixed now, as much as it’s ever going to be out here in the middle of nowhere using scrounged-up parts. He’s just getting the last of the body work done, enough to make sure it’s aerodynamically sound. 

It’s interesting, watching him work. You ask a lot of questions, and every time you do, you expect a frustrated sigh or an exasperated response. But he answers every question thoroughly, and it doesn’t even distract him from his work. 

The sun is warm against your face. The afternoon of Mando’s fifth day on this planet is drawing to a close, fading into the evening. As the sky turns to duller shades of blue, tinted with oranges and pinks, you can’t help but admire the way he looks beneath the light. His armour is always the same, always so distinctive, yet it reflects different lights in different ways. Sometimes it makes the beskar appear darker, like a gun metal grey. Other times it’s a bright silver. Then there are times like this, when it goes with the colour of the sky, reflects the beauty of everything surrounding him. 

You think back to the light in the cave, how that looked different still. The urge to see the Galaxy comes over you again, though this time it’s not staring at his ship and dreaming about taking off in it that does it; this time, it’s wondering what he looks like in even more places, more environments. Does the metal get hot in the sunshine? Or is it always as cool as it’s been when you’ve had the chance to feel it before? 

The kid is sitting on the ground in front of you. There’s a beetle scuttling around in the mud, and Grogu is toying with it, blocking it off when it runs one way, then doing the same when it runs the other. You wonder if he’s going to eat it, or if he’s just having fun by being cruel to the little six-legged creature. 

“Don’t play with your food,” Mando says to him, answering your silent question. 

Grogu looks up at him. His ears turn downwards, sulking. Mando ignores his obvious pleas to change his mind, turning back to his work. When Grogu looks back at the beetle, he only just catches it before it runs off, and instead of toying with it anymore, he just shoves it in his mouth with a loud crunch. 

You find yourself smiling at him. He smiles back, ears lifting again. 

“Alright,” Mando starts to step down from the ladder. You reach out and hold one of the ladder’s legs, knowing he probably doesn’t need you to, but still not wanting to risk it. Ladders make you nervous. “Think that’s the best we’re going to get.” 

You look up to the ship. He’s fixed the panel back on again. Now all that remains is the burnt metal from his “interesting landing”, with some bends in it, exposing little sections of the framework beneath. It’s definitely a patchwork job. But it looks better than it did when you got here this morning. So.

“How’s your leg?” He asks as he folds up the ladder. 

“Good,” you answer. It’s stretched out in front of you, propped on another crate. “Ship looks good.” 

With a resigned sigh, he puts his hand on his hips, and tilts his helmet to look up at his handiwork. “No, she doesn’t. But she’ll do.” Then he looks back to you, “I couldn’t have fixed it without your help. Thank you.” 

You shift under his gaze, unable to help it. Every time he looks at you it feels like his eyes can see right through you, and the part that makes you uncomfortable is that it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. Self-conscious and disgustingly aware of your own inappropriate, lustful thoughts? Yes. Uncomfortable? No. You don’t think it ever could. 

“Of course,” you say eventually. “And, hey, I’ve got a scar to remember our little adventure by, huh?” 

He laughs softly. You see the shake of his chest as the chuckle comes through his modulator. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.” 

“Hm, no. But there’s no gift shop around here. So.” 

He shakes his head, and you imagine, hope, that he’s smiling under all that beskar. He certainly looks casual, a hand on one hip, one leg relaxed while his weight rests on the other. 

“Do you always stare so much?” You find yourself asking with a teasing, daring quirk of your brow. 

“Yes.”

“At everyone, or just me?”

He pauses. Your heart rate spikes briefly as you wait for his response to your terrible excuse for flirting. “At everyone,” he answers eventually, and disappointment starts to set in before he says, “But it’s harder to look away from you.” 

Oh. 

The disappointment quickly shifts to nervousness, heart beating fast again as you clench your hands in your lap. He just stands there, staring despite the awkward and loaded silence between you, and stares. As if he’s making his point by offering an example. 

You look away. Suddenly, your cheeks are hot. “You hungry?” You find yourself asking. 

He pauses again, then nods. “Yes.” 

“I’ll make us some dinner. You just come back to the hut whenever you’re ready.” It’s only as you stand to hobble back home that you realise he might not want that. You swivel back around to face him, backtrack, “I mean, unless you want to eat out here. Your ship’s fixed now, I guess you can—you can stay in that? You don’t have to come back with me. I’ll be okay.” 

Again, getting more and more infuriating with each silence he lets stretch out, he just stares. Kriffing hells, does he ever stop!? 

“Would you let me cook for you?” He asks, finally.

You weren’t expecting that. 

Shifting weight to your good leg, you raise your eyebrows. “You want to cook me dinner?” 

He nods once. “Yes. To thank you for all your help. And as a farewell.” 

You’ve been trying your hardest not to think about that part. It sits in your stomach, cold and dreadful and confusing, too far down for you to swallow it. “Alright,” you agree with a soft smile. “I can’t promise I’ve got any decent ingredients, though. You might have to perform a miracle.” 

“I’m up to the challenge,” he says, hooking his thumb over the belt around his hips. You’re distracted by it, finding your eyes sliding down to his middle before you catch yourself and look back up. The tilt of his helmet suggests he might have seen your gaze shift. “I’ll walk back with you. Just give me a minute.” 

You can’t find a reason to refuse. 

♡ updates posted Mondays and Thursdays ♡

notes: thank you for reading! all interactions are appreciated as always, but comments and reblogs especially fuel my need for validation ❤️ as always, the title and lyrics at the start are from taylor swift's "daylight"

taglist: @toobsessedsstuff @granillx @keepingitlokiii @shoe1412 @kiruoris @quentinor @yourunstablegf @moonknight-s-cumdump @senassn @samanthacookieone @local-fanfic-addict @your-slutty-gf @brilliantopposite187 @iwantjoelmillertoultraviolenceme

if you wanna be on the taglist, let me know! (pls specify if just the taglist for this fic, or the list for all my future fics ❤️)

#the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #star wars fanfiction #my post #my fic: mando #i only see daylight

[steddieas-shegoes]

the freak and the hair and lex

it's time for the weekly fic rec, where i give the top 3 (to me) fics by some of my favorite authors. please always check out their masterlists/works because these authors may have stuff you love even more than what i put here! as always, check tags before reading and leave kudos and comments and reblog whenever possible to support writers!

this week is @thefreakandthehair and let me tell ya, this was one of the hardest weeks to narrow it down to my top 3. i have gone back and forth on lex's works for three days trying to narrow it down (and also realized at some point i missed a few posts so i'm about to do a binge read oops). lex is so talented and does so many things for the fandom, so everyone go celebrate her gifts to us!

lex's tumblr | lex's ao3

rounding third, sliding home Rated E | wip/big bang fic The much anticipated big bang fic is in progress and it's SO GOOD. I don't even like baseball, but Lex is proof that I can and will like any situation these boys are in. Massage therapist Eddie!!! Hello!!! I don't have to go into detail to let you know how that's going. Favorite part: Honestly, since it's a wip, I don't wanna give one yet. But I will say that the overall premise of a massage therapist being able to do what trainers and doctors couldn't makes something really happy in my brain.

ice is made to melt (so is my heart) Rated M | 1,507 words It's hockey. I sniff out hockey fics like a hunting dog. I mean it's literally just hockey fan Eddie and I'm eating it up like I've been starving for years. Favorite part because these are possibly word for word things I have screamed at my television at the Bruins whomst I love with my entire heart but would beat with a hockey stick if given the chance: "Are your blades dipped in fucking butter?” “The puck goes in the net!” "You can't shoot for shit, just like you can't grow a decent mustache, huh?" “Your job is to use your big ass body to stop the teensy tiny puck from getting around you and that’s a Hell of a lot easier if you stay in the fucking crease!” 

Livin' On A Prayer  Rated E | 17,915 words It's the classic idiots in love but don't realize it even though they basically have been boyfriends the entire time trope and I cannot get enough. It's like a slow-fast burn in the sense that they're dumb, but this is still short enough to binge in one relatively quick go. Favorite part which is kinda a spoiler so: “And I know myself well enough to know that I would die before letting anything happen to you, especially after nearly losing you once already, so I felt like being here was safest. And I— I don’t mean the same way that I love the kids or Robin or really anyone else. I’d die for them too but that’s— that’s not my point. I guess what I'm trying to say here is that I know this is one sided or whatever but I just, I’ve been wanting to tell you just to get it out of me because carrying this around alone for months and months has been wrecking me… I think I’m in love with you.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fic rec

[glamjrwi]

Okay I’m making this while tired but I figure I can at least get it started and smart people can add on. if you’re here from jrwitwt first off HELLO!!! Welcome. I know there have been several posts going around saying watch your step, we do things differently here, and to get with it, that might seem a bit intimidating. So I wanted to make this non-exhaustive list of how tumblr works and HOW we do things different so you can get settled in :)

also these are just to the best of my ability and based off my time here i am by no means a standard, just a starting point

-You might’ve heard this one already but there isn’t much of an algorithm here. You can follow certain tags and blogs. The best way to find people is to just scroll through tags and check out blogs whose posts you enjoyed

-reblogging is standard. Likes are typically for letting a mutual(or anyone rlly) know you saw their post or during liveblog sessions(at least that’s how I use them) while we have replies on posts that might look like a comment section. It really isn’t most of the time. Comments are normally put in the tags of reblogs. It’s completely okay if your blog is just reblogs that’s super normal here. you don’t have to have an original thought if you don’t want to

-If you really don’t want to post/lurk and only follow ppl, change your pfp so we know you aren’t a bot. Blank blogs have a history of being bots and if we can’t tell you’re a person a lot of people will block on sight. Just fair warning

-We do a lot of blocking here. If you don’t like someone’s posts, block em and keep going. The filter tags system on tumblr really works(I’ve heard twt is fussy and not great) and most people tag things appropriately here so you Will Not see the shit you don’t want to

-TAG THINGS APPROPRIATELY PLEASE it’s a give and take. When it comes to spoilers, as long as the original poster tagged it you normally don’t have to tag it again in a reblog but you can out of courtesy

-Bonus point a lot of us use “jrwilb” as a tag when everyone is on the dash liveblogging a stream ep or just when they get around to watching it. Some people have personalized ones, and some ppl also main tag their liveblogs so it’s just a good one to know ahead of time

-People chit chat through asks frequently. You don’t have to feel shy abt it, esp if you are being friendly. But if you’re anxious a lot of people leave on anon asks so you don’t have to have your name attached

-We don’t really do callouts/negativity posts. If you see a take or headcanon you aren’t fond of going around. You can block/filter, or you can make a positivity post or post abt your own interpretation!!! A lot of people here love different takes and headcanons and try to value all of them. Again, if one squicks you really bad, filter/block it. If you really wanna complain, be sure to do it in dms or a private discord server

-our concept of what jokes are okay to post are very lax. there really isnt an official thing but i’ve tended to notice we dont really tend to do anything the council havent done. we joke abt gillion tits and eggs here because the council have done it. we have made very lewd jokes because  . . . mcs and everything else grizzly does when he’s not playing dakota. so be prepared to be jarred by how . . . interesting it gets here

Okay that’s all I can think of for now. Members of councilblr feel free to add anything smile

#also if you are adding pls keep the tone friendly smile #i wanted to make a greetings post #for the twt refugees fleeing the discourse site #jrwi #just roll with it #what tags would twt ppl search hmmm #jrwi show #jrwishow #councilblr

[multi-lefaiye]

tick, tock.

[ #FFF234: HOW IT ENDS ]

HIIIII hi <3 i have some writing to share, after about 500 years.

this was originally written for today's @/flashfictionfridayofficial prompt, HOW IT ENDS, but i ended up going way over the limit and didn't wanna edit it down. so. it's not part of that anymore. but i'm including the banner anyway bc i like it <3

so, for context, this is based on a specific scene in act two of baldur's gate 3, a specific interaction with wyll that i love so so much, featuring my tav, the tiefling eden linnaeus <3

content warnings: semi-graphic threats of violence, but honestly mainly just spoilers for bg3, if that's something you're worried about.

words: 1692

tagging the art taglist, bc no gods no masters (no pressure to any of y'all to read! <3 and if you want to be added or removed, please let me know): @skitzo-kero @anexor @presidentquinn @albatris @chaieyestea @astral-runic @kk7-rbs @jezwrites @whonsper @moonflowerrss @approximately20eggs @rosesandartss @lychniscitrus @invaderskoodge @transmasc-wizard @midnight-and-his-melodiverse

----

The projection of Mizora is every bit as imposing as the first time Eden saw her. She stands tall in the heart of his camp, his safe haven, her clawed hands on her hips and jagged teeth barely hidden by her rose-painted grin. As always, she stares down at him with clear disdain, crown of horns perched high on her brow. She has a smug air about her that says, You are beneath me, nothing more than a pathetic ant beneath my boot.

At this moment, all Eden wants is to rip that pretty face apart. If she ever gets the guts to actually stand before him, he might do just that.

Tonight isn’t about that, however. Tonight is about Wyll, who stands next to Eden with a resigned sort of grief on his handsome face. He bows beneath the weight of Mizora’s expectations, as always, and the ridiculous suicide missions she sends him on. Wyll is dutiful, kind, and deeply honorable, and she seems to delight in every torturous humiliation she lavishes upon him. Kill this devil for me (yes, Mizora), move this mountain for me (yes, Mizora), tear yourself to ragged pieces for me (yes, Mizora). It never ends.

Even now, she appears just to torment him, holding promises of freedom over his head that she has no intentions of fulfilling. His suffering is a game to her, one that he has no hope of winning.

One thing is abundantly clear: to Mizora, Wyll is little more than a dog, her loyal pet for her to keep on a tight leash and kick as she pleases. And he’ll always come crawling back to her, because he has no choice in the matter.

And that, Eden decides, is unacceptable. 

“Ta ta, pet,” Mizora coos, winking playfully at Wyll’s clenched jaw, the way he casts his eyes down at the ground. Submissive. Cowed. It doesn’t suit him. She waggles her dainty fingers at him in a wave. “And do make haste. I’d hate to have to ruin that pretty face of yours if you fail.”

Something inside Eden snaps.

“Wait,” he says, taking a step towards the devil. She blinks at him, clearly surprised that he spoke up. “What’s in it for him?” Mizora snorts.

“I thought I was quite clear,” she purrs. She holds up a finger for emphasis. “As per our contract, Wyll must do whatever I ask of him. And, now, he must rescue my stolen asset from Moonrise, or else I will rend his flesh from his bones and-”

“Yes, yes, we heard you the first time,” Eden cuts her off. “Save us the fucking theatrics, you winged sack of shit.” He waves a hand dismissively and rolls his eyes. “My point, however, is that I don’t see why he should do anything for you. You haven’t given him anything--isn’t that the point of a fair deal?” He’s treading dangerous waters, he knows, but he’s not backing down now.

The devil ponders his words, her expression twisted in fury at his insolence. Clearly, the bitch isn’t used to mortals who talk back. Finally, she asks cautiously, “What are you proposing?”

Mizora glares at him, and for perhaps the first time, Eden understands what it means to face down eternal damnation. Her burning eyes promise hellfire, but Eden meets her gaze unflinchingly. And as he does, he sees something he didn’t before: a spark of fear, of desperation, in her face. Mizora is scared. Whatever asset she needs Wyll to fetch, she’s fucked if he doesn’t get it for her.

There’s blood in the water. And, like a shark, Eden strikes.

“End your pact with Wyll.” The words seem to echo like a gunshot in the otherwise quiet camp. “He’s done everything you’ve asked as your errand boy, and you’ve done almost nothing in return. The contract has served its purpose, so if you want anything else from him, end it.” Distantly, Eden is aware of the others in the background, talking among themselves as they wonder if they should intervene. But Eden doesn’t care about that now. His focus is on the evil bitch in front of him, and the noble man behind him.

Then, Wyll’s voice sounds in the back of Eden’s mind, clearly terrified of where he’s going with this.

What are you doing? he asks. Eden glances at Wyll out of the corner of his eye and sees the man watching him with wide eyes. Wyll is terrified, that much is clear.

Trust me. Eden meets Wyll’s gaze, his face carefully neutral despite the pleading words. Please. Wyll hesitates for a moment, trepidation shining in his face. A heartbeat passes, and he nods, steeling his gaze.

I trust you.

Something in Eden’s chest warms at the words, at Wyll’s unwavering faith in him, and he turns his attention back to Mizora. She’s still glaring at him, but she looks unsteady. He’s clearly on the right track. He just has to keep digging.

“Why should I?” she sneers, and now Eden sees how defensive the gesture is as she crosses her arms. “You have no bargaining power, boy. Wyll made an agreement with me, and he’s obligated to-”

“Tick,” Eden says casually. “Tock.”

“What?” Mizora barks, furrowing her brow.

“Tick, tock, Mizora,” Eden says. He smiles at her, the expression baring his fangs. “Every second you spend bitching about what Wyll should do is another second you waste that we could be helping you.” His smile grows as he imagines sinking his teeth into Mizora’s flesh. “How long until the Absolutists destroy your precious asset, removing her brain and replacing it with worms? We’ll have to act fast if we’re to get there in time. By then, it may be too late.”

“You don’t-” Mizora starts in a snarl, her fingers curling into claws, but Eden doesn’t let her finish.

“Tick, tock.” He snarls back in a feral grin. “What do you choose? Tick, tock, tick, tock-”

“Stop,” Mizora growls.”

“Tick, tock, tick, tock-”

“ENOUGH!” Mizora cries, her voice a booming thunderclap that almost shakes Eden to his core. Almost. She staggers away from him as though burned by his words alone, raising her hands to hide her face. For a long moment, she stands there, shoulders shaking ever so slightly.

Whoever Mizora needs saved from Moonrise, she’s clearly as important as Eden assumes if the idea of losing her is enough to unsettle the devil this deeply.

The devil takes a breath, shuddering as she collects herself. Finally, she lowers her hands, crossing her arms again. She glares at Eden, but there’s no heat in the expression now, not after Eden laid bare how desperate she really is. He glares back at her freely, his expression triumphant. He’s won, and they both know it.

“Fine,” Mizora says through gritted teeth. She takes a breath again, schooling her expression into a calm smile. “Fine. I will release Wyll from his contract.” It sounds like she’s forcing herself to say each word. Eden hopes it hurts her to say them. “After he rescues the asset.” She throws the last part out like a challenge, grinning viciously at Eden, and he only shrugs in response.

“Naturally,” Eden agrees easily enough. “That’s only fair, after all.” Something glints in his eyes. “When he rescues the asset, you will release him from his pact.” It’s not a request, and Mizora clearly knows it, based on the way her lip peels back in another snarl. “And if you even try to weasel out of this, I’ll personally ensure the Absolute devours you and your precious asset whole.”

It’s an empty threat and he knows it, but the flash of terror in Mizora’s eyes at Eden’s words tells him she believes him wholeheartedly. Good.

Mizora averts her gaze, clearly unsettled, and turns away from Eden to look at Wyll. “You’d better move quickly, pup,” she barks, desperate to cling to whatever power she has left in this situation. Eden decides to allow it, for now. “Looks as though we’re both on a time limit.”

Before Eden can examine her parting words, she disappears as swiftly as she arrived, the illusion melting into a puddle of black ichor on the stone floor. In seconds, the muck evaporates, leaving behind nothing more than a dark stain, a smudge of shadow in the flickering firelight.

The moment she’s gone, Eden lets out a breath of his own, his shoulders drooping ever so slightly. His heart pounds something fierce in his chest, his victory over Mizora lighting a fire in his veins just as much as it fills him with pure, exhaustive relief.

“I…” Wyll begins behind him, swallowing audibly. “Eden, I… Not that I’m not grateful, but why-”

“If you want to beat a devil, you have to beat them at their own game,” Eden says simply. He suddenly feels deeply uncertain, and he shifts as he crosses his arms. “And, well… you’re my friend. I’m tired of her making you play alone, so I’m gonna help you beat her.” That’s half the truth, anyway.

Eden turns his head to look at Wyll, and he’s nearly taken aback by the man’s expression of pure, unabashed awe. Wyll is looking at him like he’s the most remarkable creature in the world. There’s something else in his eyes, something else that Eden can’t quite identify, but the expression makes something stir deep inside Eden’s chest.

“We’re not out of the weeds yet,” he continues, smiling bashfully, “but this is a start. We’ll just have to make sure Mizora upholds her en-”

Before Eden can finish his sentence, Wyll surges forward and wraps his arms around the smaller man, pulling him into a tight embrace. Eden freezes in surprise, his words dying in his throat as Wyll buries his face in the tiefling’s neck. It takes a moment for him to realize that Wyll’s shoulders are shuddering, ever so slightly.

“Thank you,” Wyll says, his voice watery with unshed tears. “Thank you.”

There’s a million things Eden could say in response. But instead, after the briefest moment of hesitation, he just hugs Wyll back, holding his friend gently.

#multi makes text posts #multi's writing #bg3 #eden linnaeus #handsome devils #<- wyll and eden tag #I FEEL LIKE THE ENDING OF THIS IS KINDA RUSHED BUT I LIKE IT SO I'M POSTING IT

[smok3r7]

I hope this doesn’t come across as rude or anything because I don’t mean in that way at all!!! And I completely understand not wanting to spoil your story…

But with some things, like cheating, it can be very triggering to people. Which is why they ask if that’s gonna happen and getting an unclear answer about it can be a bit frustrating! Like, I wanna support you and your story!!! But cheating is an extremely sensitive topic for me so I avoid reading it.

If you don’t want to spoil then please just say you don’t want to share yet and maybe put more direct things in the tags after the story is done?

Or I’ve seen people put spoilers below a read more thing.

Again, please please don’t take this in a rude way. I really liked the first part (and I’m not the other anon that asked btw!) and it’s totally okay to not spoil. But if someone asks then these answers that could mean anything and go either way aren’t really helpful at all… just saying you don’t want to say anything until the story is complete would be better!

Much love and keep up the good work!

No thank you really! Honestly I’m new to the tag part of this, this is my first story I’ve posted on tumblr (I was a wattpad baby) years ago! I’ve tried to base tags off of what I’ve seen on other stories on here but that definitely makes sense! Sorry to anyone who I made feel this way, not my intentions at all babes🩷

The answer to the cheating question for

my story is below if you want to know⬇️

Joel doesn’t cheat directly, a kiss happens once by Samantha, but nothing else. He instantly regrets it and then moves her to a different position at work so he doesn’t have to be around her since she wouldn’t give it up. He had her moved a week prior to the fight reader and Joel have.

#joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #latching on to you #so sorry if I offended anyone #did not mean too

[navysealt4t]

HI JAZZY

SORRY for rambling in your notes i have BRAINROT and i will talk forever about it if presented the opportunity

also. where would you recommend starting for jrwi. because im Curious now

!!!!!! JUNPING UP AND DOWN FOR JOY AGACAVAHUSCSHS C !!!!!!!!!!

okokok soo there r a few different places u can start :33 there r like 4 campaigns that r easy to access.

there’s the main one Riptide!!! which is what i post about most :3 theres pirates and gay people and idk i’m really bad at summarizing things. but very much found family and a good mix of seriousness and silliness :] this playlist has all the episodes in order (108 episodes…. it’s very daunting. i stared watching at about 80 episodes i think?) it’s currently still going (and according to the dm, grizzly, about halfway through!)

the other on going camping is prime defenders !! idk anything about pd rlly, except that it’s like teenage/young adult superheroes? and i think it starts pretty lighthearted but gets way more serious. i barely know anything about this campaign tbh. i think there’s 5 episodes on the youtube and the rest is on patreon (there may be a totally approved playlist with the patreon episodes though. idk tho) this is the first episode tho !

then one of the two completed campaigns is APOTHEOSIS!!!!! i think apotheosis is tied with riptide for my fav campaign :] i think u might like apoth, idek know how to properly summarize it it’s so so good. like. godslaying, queer people, sex jokes, religion, angst, it’s amazing . i can’t pick a fav pc either it’s so so good. the first episode is on youtube and the rest (12 or 13 i think) are on patreon (i have a link to a totally approved and public playlist tho if u want it). it’s genuinely such a good campaign. i’m not an expert on it tho uhh if u wanna know more my good friend @/scrubbythebubble knows a lot about it :3

and last but not least BLOOD IN THE BAYOU!!!!!!!! ogh. i can’t even start this campaign is amazing. like horror? friendship? middle aged men? bugs? this is the campaign for u. charlie slimecicle is such a good dm. it’s a call of cthulu campaign but if u don’t know the mechanics they’re explained very well through the campaign . it’s genuinely so so good it’s given me the shivers so many times. the first episode is on youtube and the last 3 are on patreon. the last 3 episodes r audio only so i sadly don’t think there’s a totally approved playlist out there 😔 it’s rlly good tho just uh. quite a few content warnings

YEAH!!!! sorry this is so long and took so long i just love love jrwi. uhh if u plan on watching anything i would block the tags ‘jrwi spoilers’, ‘jrwilb’, and ‘[campaign name] spoilers’ if it’s pretty hard to stay unspoiled for like apoth and bitb, but i REALLY recommend going in with no spoilers bc shit just hits soo much harder :3 and jrwilb is the liveblogging tag !!

but yeah!!! councilblr/jrwiblr is (usually) very chill and we like to have fun and leave ominous messages for new ppl to freak about over :3 if u wanna know anything else feel free to dm or send an ask i loveeee talking about jrwi hehe

#!!!!!! sorry this is a lot i got rlly excited #asks #haunted ghouls #beloveds <3 #also sorry for any typos i was typing rlly fast and autocorrect hates me

[phoenix-is-the-hottest-thing]

ok i have been informed new twitter people were showing up so here’s some honkai tumblr fandom stuff:

some people use #hi3 or #honkaiimpact3rd but most i see just use #honkai impact. pick one or two and tag those when you wanna be seen! i recommend you tag characters and ships as well!

tag your hate with something as well so people can block it out (ex: “elysia hate”, “kiamei hate”) and don’t censor words so people’s filters catch them. block the hate tags you don’t like too! if someone didn’t tag you can send a polite ask about it. or just block them lol

if you try to harass someone you are getting blocked. yes this includes sending anon asks while having any “good” reasons to harass someone that you can think of. bad vibes? you don’t like their ships? you don’t like their beliefs? block them. block me! not worth it, no one will intrude on your dash unless you want them to on tumblr (well, besides users paying for Blazed, though you can support the site’s independence and pay for ad removal to get rid of those), as you can turn off recommended posts. mind your own business and be a good neighbor

in the same vein, don’t spread weird rumors about people. there’s been a pissy anti going around who tries to get people to hate me in particular, my running theory is that it’s a crush they’re really angry about having at this point 😊 follows and likes are often private, if you wanna get to know someone you’re gonna have to actually talk to them, or see what they actually say. don’t believe random anons about strangers, and don’t be an ass even if you dislike the stranger. even if shinigami eyes caught a terf— just block them and move on, they’re not worth your energy. (note that nobody vets who they’re reblogging from 99% of the time, unlike twitter reblog chains don’t necessarily link back to the OP. the worst that weird anon could bring up was “in that reblog chain there was a bad person” that i’d never heard about. it’s pathetic. don’t do that. just block. out of sight out of mind)

if you don’t like an ask, or if they’re being rude or spreading rumors, you can just delete it

you can say ass here. and murder. and fuck. go wild. if you don’t like some of these you can filter them as well. (use filter content instead of filter tag).

you can froth at the mouth enthusiastically in the tags of a reblogged post to let the op know how much you’re enjoying their content (they will be delighted)

reblog art! reblog fic links! community needs direct action on here 🥰 fics in particular need love because they’re not eye-catching. you can repost links of fics you love as well!

you don’t have to be brief and you can post many more pics at once. unleash your inner essayist, i’m always down to read some fun rambles

personalize your blog a little bit to let others know you’re not a bot! else you might get blocked by accident

nudes have been made legal on tumblr again. porn has not. that includes drawn depictions of sex acts. you’ll probably have to host on another site and link it here with an ok preview with a community label for sexual themes (think privatter or poipiku). if you’re an adult you can change your settings to filter or not filter community labeled mature content at will, but bear in mind the default is that it will not be seen

if you see a porn bot report and block them, in that order

tag your spoilers something consistent, I use #honkai spoilers. spoilers is anything that hasn’t been published to global yet

hope you enjoy yourself!

#honkai impact #hi3 #honkaiimpact3rd #psa

[battlemaiden13]

I actually have a question, well technically 2?? Okay wasn’t 2, I kept thinking and getting ideas. But!!!

1) Are you okay with your characters, plot, stories etc from your fanfics (mainly HND) being Cosplayed? As in people cosplaying like Berry and Syrup like how on tiktok people did Sans, Edge, Fresh, Coffee etc? You okay with cosplays and reacting scenes? Or possibly even fan made scenes? Or them cosplaying they’re YN/MC or what they would wear in different chapters etc?

2) Is drawings of scenes on tiktok? Or again fanmade scenes? Changes or etc? Is it okay? Or like what if scenes? Or like voice acting said scenes or comics or comic dubs??

3) On said note of drawing; when you do the more spicy scenes, are you okay for the nsfw artists to draw it? With a YN or their MC?

4) Are you okay with fanart etc being on more then just Tumblr? Like Instagram, Twitter, Tiktok? Maybe even Youtube?

5) Do ya know how in DnD peoplez make mini scenes from they’re sessions? Or while they roleplay the figures move or the furniture or area changes? Are you okay with that or like doll like in dollhouse type thingy, because I kinda wanna do a figures of the paintball scenes

6) is it okay for people to make fanfics of your fanfics? Or like use your version of characters in they’re own fanfic, for example; take your characters out them in a total different world, but they’re personality etc stay the same, unless needed for certain story ideas like medieval, fantasy, dnd world etc

7) ALSO are you okay with people like making HND, etc, inspired like “merch” in a way?(thoughts on selling, but I’m more of is it okay to make for yourself) Or like making *spoiler kinda* The necklace Mafia gave MC? Mango and MC’s bracelets? Or like Dreams coin necklace? or people making like the boys jackets so it’s the cute “wearing my bf jacket” thing? - or thoughts on people designing tattoos of your fanfic and getting those tattoos? Or just designing tattoos?

Of course for all of these you’d be given credit, tagged, etc- if you have the certain platforms where posted or regardless credited one way or another! And of course have it’s own hashtag so it doesn’t get lost to something completely different like some idea examples: Cosplay wise: # HNDCosplay, HNDBerryCosplay, HNDMCCosplay, etc etc etc and say scenes HNDCannon, HNDFannon, HNDScenesCannon,

It’s just I’m a Cosplayer and I’ve been really wanting to Cosplay your characters, redo scenes in Cosplay format, and I wonder if it’s okay aswell as if others might be wanting too as well or if it’s just a me thing😂 Also sorry it was originally 2 questions that lead to an essay🤣 I really am sorry it’s long, however your story, REALLY helps my creative mind keep getting ideas and I have a lot of hobbies, I also don’t wanna spam you so I try to keep it all in one ask. Sorry again!!! Have a wonderful day and thank you so much for being my inspiration and motivation!!💞💗 ~Long Asks Anom aka 💚𝒯𝒽ℯℴ💚

Woah! This is a lot XD ok lets do this. 

Yeah people can cosplay scenes and characters from my story. I would actually love to see some cosplay scenes or even fanmade ones! And absolutely A-OK with people cosplaying MC. I love seeing different variants of MC!! It’s so cool and interesting to me. So Big Yes to all this

Absolutely!! Love drawing and a-ok with you making fan made scenes or changes! Yes to voice acting and comics and comic dubs! Go nuts. If my writing inspires you, use it! I’d love to see what others make because of my writing. 

Hehehe yes. Go nuts. If a NSFW artist would like to draw them then yes. Hell if they want to draw this now so I can have some inspiration I won’t say no XD

Yeah! Tumblr is just my main platform. I have an Instagram too! But don’t post there at all really. And a TikTok but that’s literally just for watching others' content. As long as you send me a link or something to it here because I’d love to see it more than anything else post wherever you’d like!

If you want to make miniatures, heck yeah! Like that’s awesome! Like little dioramas! That’s so cool honestly. Omg the paintball scene would work so well too! Go for it

YES! I have a few so far on AO3 that have been inspired by HND. I feel like the only skeletons I have claims on are Syrup and Berry though because I accidentally made them. Obviously all other skeletons belong to their original owners but if you like my interpretation of them go for it. Also use Syrup and Berry for whatever. Take them all of them! Then they can be your problem. You can use all the humans too, like Lo, Vanessa or the brothers. I don’t mind

Yes! Again i’d be careful cause obviously most of these skeletons are not mine. They are the respective owners so you’d have to check with them. However the necklace, mango’s friendship bracelet and dreams coin necklace are all fine to make if you want cause I did make them up. The jackets would be based on the other creators (I think most are ok with it from memory but double check) but Syrups you can make. Tattoo designs would be awesome to see!! If people get tattoos on HND that’s on them but I might die. Heck if someone makes a HND tattoo that I love I might get it XD. Currently I have no plans to make merch for HND just cause I never thought of it XD you can make whatever you want for yourself, selling would be fine for now? If I ever make my own in future my stance on that might change though. 

And that’s everything. Like you said please please please tag me so I can see!!! Or even just send it my way.  I love seeing creative works based on my writing. Your suggestions on tags all sound great too. 

I’ve never had a cosplayer want to do scenes from my writing before so that’s very exciting! Don’t apologize, this was great! Bother me anytime! I can’t wait to see what you end up doing!! I’m so pumped!! 

I hope you have a fantastic day Theo!!

#hnd #house next door #hnd fanwork

[millersdjarin]

Don't Wanna Look (at Anything Else)

I Only See Daylight - Chapter Eleven - Smut Scene

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: E (Explicit, SMUT)

Warnings/Tags: smut scene from Chapter 11 of I Only See Daylight, fingering, hand jobs, a little bit of dirty talk & praise kink, clothed sexy times, snuggling

For context: Din and Reader have recently started their romantic relationship, they've only kissed a few times with Reader's eyes closed, and they're on a long hyperspace journey with time to kill ;) (spoilers for the rest of IOSD, obviously)

Length: 5.5k words

He’s sitting like that again. 

Except this time, he’s on the bench in the living area, one arm stretched along the back of it. His whole body is just one big temptation. The expanse of his chest beneath his chest plate, so open and inviting with his arm out like that. His thick thighs, spread wide enough for you to just settle right between them, his hand splayed on top of his left one like you want to be. 

And he’s looking at you already, the second you come up through the hatch. You’ve put the kid to bed. It’s just the two of you up here. His eyes are on you, and you can feel them before you see them; hot, exploring. Somehow, you know he’s looking at every inch of you.

The way his helmet is tilted slightly, watching you. 

Gods.

You just stand there for a minute, a couple metres in front of him, moving away from the hatch lest you step back and fall down it like a complete idiot, because he looks so good and you already feel weak in the knees. 

“Come here,” he requests into the heated quiet. 

You step forward, giving a playfully suspicious frown. “What’s going on?”

He lifts up his hand, pats his thigh. “Kid’s asleep. We’ve got nothing but time,” he taps it again, inviting you. You hear the soft sound of the leather glove against the beskar, drawing your eyes to it, to the wide set of his leg. Then, low, he says again, “Come here.” 

It’s like there’s a string pulling you towards him. Something you couldn’t resist even if you wanted to. (Why would you want to?)

You get closer to him, taking small, tentative steps. He brings his legs just a little closer, sits up a little higher. Keeping your eyes on his visor, watching for any negative reaction that says Nope, not what I wanted, you stop in front of him, your knees brushing against his. You separate your legs a little, and move so that you’re straddling him, still standing up but feeling his knees against the insides of your thighs. Kriff, even that is enough to get you to come apart.

He brings up the hand that isn’t splayed across the back of the sofa, and places it on your hip, firm and trusting. He’s looking up at you, his gaze never leaving you. Not since you got here. 

Gently, he tugs on you. “Come here,” he says again, and the only way you could possibly get any closer is if you sit in his lap.

So, you do. So slowly that it hurts your knees. You feel vulnerable like this, just bending down, placing the underside of your thighs on the tops of his. The beskar is cool and hard beneath you, your ass only just touching it while the rest of your middle just hangs in between the small gap between his legs. When you sit down with your weight on him, your legs bring his closer together, so it’s more comfortable. 

His hand still on your hip, he sighs. You see the rise and fall of his chest. “You look so beautiful like this,” he says softly. Your heart lurches. “Mesh’la,” he adds, like he’s saying it to himself. 

You place your hands on his shoulders, steadying yourself. Though, you don’t need it; he’s holding you so well in place with his one hand and that sign of strength is enough to have the space between your legs pulsing already. You stare down at him, gazing into his visor, feeling the heat of his body even through all the armour. Of course you wish he could be free of it, just in his flight suit, so you could feel his softness beneath your hands, your legs, your ass.

But it’s okay. This is more than enough. 

“It’s not fair,” you say, lifting a hand to stroke down the side of his helmet. “It’s not fair that you get to look this beautiful, so beautiful without me even seeing you..”

He squeezes your hip, slides his hand up to your waist. It almost rucks up your shirt. Not quite. You’re fine. 

“Din,” you whisper, leaning in to press your forehead to his. “Can you kiss me? Please?” 

He nods and, on instinct, you close your eyes, ready to hear his helmet being removed. The sound doesn’t come, though. Instead, Mando shifts underneath you, and you look down at him to find him leaning across to the switch panel on the wall just a foot away. He flicks them, and suddenly, you’re plunged into darkness. The only light is coming from the cockpit, just the faintest flashes of blue and white as you fly through hyperspace.

You look around the room, getting your bearings. There are barely any shadows. You can only just see Din beneath you, the tiniest reflection of hyperspace glinting from one side of his armour. 

Keeping his eyes on you, he lifts his hands, places them on each side of his helmet. 

You close your eyes. Just in case.

“Cyar’ika,” he says softly, “you can open them.” 

“But…I might be able to see…” 

“You won’t,” he says. “It’s dark enough. I’ve already tried it.”

“Oh,” you breathe, something warm piercing through your chest. He’d planned for this. All you can see is his silhouette as he lifts his hands again, carefully taking his helmet away from his head. You hear the hiss, and it’s so ingrained in you to close your eyes at that sound, that you have to force yourself not to. The beskar catches the small light when it’s higher up before he moves it down and puts it on the bench beside him.

You can still only see the outline of him. He’s a shadow, a dark figure. There are a few wispy curls atop his head that catch the light, though. And it’s more of him than you’ve ever seen.

“Are you sure about this?” You ask him, suddenly feeling the need to speak in nothing more than a whisper. “You don’t have to. I can close my eyes.” 

You see the silhouette of his head shake. “I’m sure,” his voice is pure, unmodulated. So clear. You wait for him to touch you, to lean in, but before he does he lifts up his hands and pulls off his gloves.

Oh, kriff.

You can see his hair in front of you, the vaguest shape of the outline of his face. You’re in his fucking lap, just like you’ve always wanted to be when he sits like this. And now he’s going to touch you with his bare hands. 

Fuck.

You find your hands are shaking just a little as you lift them up to touch his face. Every muscle in you relaxes at the feeling of his beard beneath your palms. Your fingertips slide back into his hair, and he sighs so softly, just a relaxed exhale of air that you feel against your face. 

He moves his arm from the back of the sofa, instead reaching for your waist so he can hold you on both sides. 

“Please kiss me,” you whisper. You want to make sure he’s ready. That he’s truly okay with this.

And he is. Because at your request, he leans in, and captures your lip between his own, so softly and tenderly. It’s only been a few hours since your last kiss, since you last felt him beneath your mouth and your hands. But still, a sharp breath of desperation pulls into your nose as you push your lips further into his. You moan just a little, maybe closer to a whimper. His hands on your waist tighten. You want him to touch your face, your neck, your hands, put his bare skin against yours until you can recall the feeling of his touch just from a single thought.

He moves against you, pulling away, drawing back in. His kiss is soft but passionate, like he’s trying to drink in every moment. You ball your hands into fists, grabbing gentle handfuls of his hair. He sighs, one of his hands lifting up to cup the back of your head, cradle you close to him. 

For a second you lose control, finding yourself pushing further down into his lap, your centre still open and untouched between the small gap of his legs. The insides of your thighs brush against his crotch. You’re just hanging there, your thighs stretched open over him, and you can feel his hardness, just brushing up against you through his flight suit.

On instinct, you grind down. 

He moans in response. Tilts his head in the other direction, teasing his tongue into your mouth, just testing the waters. You accept it gratefully and slide your tongue right back against it. One of your hands moves down from his hair to his cowl, holding him right where you know it’ll keep him there. 

He takes a gentle handful of your hair. It sparks pleasure down through the roots and all the way to your toes. Your body pushes in closer to him, pressing your chest as close to him as it can get without breaking the searing, delicious kiss.

Your hand is finding its way from his cowl, all the way down his chest, towards his crotch. You just can’t wait to feel him, to take hold of him. 

Before you can touch his hardness, he grabs your hand, gently stopping you. “Don’t.” 

You pull your hand away in an instant, heat flushing onto your cheeks, “Sorry—I didn’t mean to—”

He shakes his head. For the first time, you see it, the outline of his bare face in the darkness. “It’s not that I don’t want you to,” he says, low, husky, “Gods, I do. But if you do, I might come apart.” 

Heat blooms in your belly. You raise an eyebrow, even though he can’t see it. “Maybe that’s what I want.”

Like he’s holding himself back, he lets out a breathy, barely-there moan. His hands squeeze at your waist as he leans in, presses his bare forehead against your neck. You feel his nose, the heat of his breath, the brush of his facial hair. It’s intoxicating. He’s intoxicating. 

And then, as if he’s purposefully trying to make you come right here on the spot, “Let me take care of you, this first time. Please.” 

Your breath catches in your throat. You try to swallow it down. “Alright,” you reply, a shaky whisper.

His lips press against the pulse point on your neck. As your eyes flutter closed, you hold the back of his neck, feeling him open his mouth over your skin. Fucking fuck, it’s wet, hot, his teeth just grazing your skin as he sucks.

“Maker,” you curse. “Din, that’s…that’s good.” 

“Mm,” he hums his agreement and the vibration of his voice over you is enough to send your knees shaking. He does it again, sucks at a new spot, just under your jaw. The sensation is electrifying, pleasure and desire sparking into your veins and thrumming through your entire body, all roads leading back to your cunt. Which is throbbing now, and you know you’re already wet. 

Clinging to the back of his head, you tangle your hands in his hair—his hair—and pull lightly as he sucks just a little harder, a tiny sting coming from his teeth. It’s so fucking good. A breathy whimper comes from your throat. He seems to like it, his hands tightening on your waist again, one of them sliding up your ribs and the side of your breast. 

“Din,” you pant, suddenly out of breath, “I—I don’t know what you can give me, but I—”

“What do you want?” He asks into the join between your shoulder and neck, darting his tongue out to lick shapes against your skin. 

You almost can’t get your words out. “Whatever you can give,” you tell him earnestly. “Touch me—please, Din…” 

The hand on your ribs slides back down again, though this time it doesn’t stop at your waist. It ghosts over your hip, your middle, taking a gentle and tender hold of the rolls of your stomach. You gasp as his thumb brushes over your belly button. He starts to ruck up your shirt, but you freeze, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Not yet,” you tell him, taking a gentle, warning hold of his wrist. “Not—my shirt stays on. Please.” 

Without question, he nods. His hand resumes its path downwards, eventually letting his fingers catch over the waistband of your trousers. 

“Can I?” He requests softly, voice still against your neck, his other hand holding you steady at the waist. “It’s okay if not.” 

You’re nodding before he’s even finished asking. “Yes,” you breathe, “yes, please…” 

With his mouth just ghosting against your neck, he slowly undoes the button on your trousers, pulls down the zipper. Your underwear is already wet; you can feel it, now that the cool air has chance to hit it. A shiver runs down you. He feels it; rewards it with a kiss to your lips as his hand carefully stretches out the fabric that covers you, allowing him space to get his hand there. 

Over your panties, he presses his two fingers to the hood of your clit. Just testing. 

Your thighs try to clench together as soon as you feel it, catching on the beskar beneath them instead of finding the friction between your legs that they want. He presses harder against you, waiting for your approval.

“Kriff,” you gasp, “Please, Din, I—please touch me. Do whatever you want.” 

He kisses you again, soft and slow on the lips. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he murmurs. His breath is hot, curling its way into your mouth, your lungs. 

“How long?” You ask him, and gasp again when he dips his fingers below the top of your panties, brushing through the hairs as he slowly, so slowly, moves them closer to your clit. 

He nips your jaw, then licks it better. “First moment I saw you,” he breathes, and finally, finally, his bare fingers are there, pulling back the hood and pressing gently against your clit—“I’d never seen someone so perfect.” 

Your eyes falling closed, you hold on to the back of his head, anchoring him to your neck. His two fingertips start pressing just a little harder, moving in tiny circles around the bundle of nerves, not quite touching it but touching just enough to send red hot waves of pleasure through your core. “I was—I was pointing a blaster at you,” you recall breathlessly, half-lost in the feelings he’s giving you.

He huffs out a little laugh. Fuck, feeling it against your skin is a whole new level. “I’m a Mandalorian, remember? I like weapons.” 

You laugh, too, a breathy chuckle that soon fades from your mouth the minute he slides his fingers through your folds, down to your entrance to gather wetness. “Oh, kriff, baby—” it slips out, the first time you’ve ever called him something like that, something other than Mando or his name. At first a twinge of panic is there in your stomach, but then he presses harder, putting his finger right against your clit and working it even more intensely than before.

“I like that,” he all but growls into your neck. “Say it again.” 

“Baby,” you moan, because you would do anything he says, anything to keep up that pressure on your clit, the burning pleasure coiling low in your stomach—“Baby, that’s so good, please I—I need more…” 

“Tell me what you need, Mesh’la,” he requests as his lips trail up from your neck, to your jaw, your chin, finally settling on your lips, pressing a barely there kiss to just your bottom one because your mouth is hanging open in pleasure. “I’ll give it to you.” 

You grind down against his hand that now cups you fully, his palm pressing against your clit as you push down into it. Your hands grasp tight to his shoulders. “Please,” you beg, “fuck me. However you want. Your fingers, I—I’ll take anything you can give me…” 

There’s a soft, urgent moan from him again, somewhere between desperation and bliss. “Fuck, Cyar’ika. You don’t know what you do to me.” 

The feeling’s mutual. Still grinding against his hand, you feel his fingertips start to tease your folds, just pushing against your entrance enough for it to drive you crazy. His palm still grazes your clit and you can’t stop circling your hips down into it, finding just the right pressure, the right pace. 

Then, slowly, he pushes a finger inside you. Warm, bare, him. 

It’s heaven. It’s fucking heaven. It’s—

It’s not enough. 

“Din,” you whisper, “baby, please…I need more—”

He pushes in another alongside the first, and the slight extra stretch is perfect, stroking your walls just right so you can feel yourself pulsing over his knuckles. He tilts his hand a little so his thumb is at your clit, rubbing in tight, firm circles. 

“Oh, fuck,” you almost sob, biting down so hard on your lip that it hurts. As he slowly strokes his fingers in and out of you, experimenting, getting you used to it, you scramble to take hold of his face, bring it up to meet yours. “Kiss me,” you whisper, “please.” 

Instantly, he does. He synchronises the push and pull of his lips with the pushing of his fingers inside you, getting faster, more urgent. His thumb against your clit, you still grind down onto him, feeling the brush of his palm against your folds every once in a while, the extra heat and sensation too much to bear. 

You’ve wanted this for so long. You never thought you’d have this. He’s here, helmet-less, his face hot and warm and perfect pressed against your own, his hair curled and tangling in your fingers. The hand that isn’t inside you ghosts around to grab your ass, taking a tight hold. 

It sends you to new realms of pleasure, of want. “Mm,” you exclaim in approval, managing a quick nod before he’s diving back in for another kiss. It’s all you can do to just let him hold you, let him touch you, fuck you on his strong fingers and push your clit so hard that it almost hurts. 

“Mesh’la,” his voice is husky, his lips moving over to the shell of your ear, leaving a wet trail in their wake, “Mesh’la, is that good?” 

“So good, Din, I—” he curls his fingers, hitting that spongy spot inside of you at the same time as his thumb runs a particularly strong circle around your clit. “Fuck! Fuck, baby, do that again, I’m so close—” Pleasure is coiling, getting tighter the more he presses against that spot every time he pushes hard on your clit. You’re using your feet on the floor as leverage, fucking yourself on his fingers as he fucks you right back, both of you coming to a rhythm and working together to get you there. 

“Cyar’ika, please come for me,” he begs into your ear, “Please. Wanna feel it. Wanna feel you come on my fingers, wanted you for so long, please—”

“Keep talking—”

“Kriff, you feel so good around me, Cyar’ika, so hot and wet…you have no idea what you do to me, you’re so fucking beautiful, could just touch you like this forever…” 

“Baby…” 

“Come on, Mesh’la, let me feel you…take what you need from me, that’s it…doing so good…”

Your breaths get faster, and you feel it, the heat building past the point of no return as your orgasm tumbles over you like a wave, starting in your middle and washing over your entire body. “Din!” You cry out, tipping your head back. Your hands grasp so firmly on his shoulders, one of them trying to find purchase anywhere, eventually settling on taking a tight hold of his hair. His moan only spurs you on, lets you stay at the highest point of your orgasm for as long as possible. “Holy shit—holy shit, gods, kriff…” It tumbles and tumbles and tumbles, pleasure rubbing every nerve in your body, setting you alight. 

He fucks you through it, only slowing when he feels you start to come down, your pussy pulsing and clenching over his fingers. Breaths are coming hard and fast into your lungs. It feels amazing. He feels amazing. Everything feels amazing. 

“Din, that was…” you laugh, breathy, feeling sweat on the back of your neck as you feel the aftershocks start to set in. Your legs are burning from the strain of holding yourself up for so long, of bouncing up and down on his fingers. “Kriff. That was good.” 

You feel him smile against your neck. He kisses you, still inside your pussy. 

One of your shaky hands reaches down into the space between you. “Can I?” You ask, smirking when you continue, “You’re pretty hard under there.” 

“Never been harder in my life, Cyar’ika. But you’re still recovering. I don’t want to…” 

You shake your head. “My hand is still in working order,” you say, giving him a smile, even though he can’t see it.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to.” 

In answer, you slide your hand down his stomach, fingers catching on the beskar and then settling on the flight suit at the bottom of his belly. “Does this thing open?” 

“Yeah,” he whispers, and reaches down his spare hand to find the zip, unearthing it from its hidden pocket. Only a second later his cock is springing free, surrounded by the rest of his clothes. You wish you could see it. Wish you could admire how vulgar it must look for everything else to be clothed except his dick. 

Your hand is on it in an instant, after dipping down and gathering your own wetness to slick it up. He groans, low and guttural. His fingers are still inside you, twitching every time your pussy does. 

Your thumb rums over his tip, and the gasp that comes from his mouth is just delicious. You want to pull that sound from him over and over and over again. Never stop hearing it. Never stop feeling him here, beneath you, waiting for you to make him feel as good as he just made you feel.

“Can you stay inside me?” You whisper against his mouth. 

“Please,” he says, making you smile in response. He smiles too, but soon his mouth drops open in pleasure as you take his length in your hand and pull. “Oh, Cyar’ika…” 

He starts to move his fingers in you again, in time with the strokes you give to his dick. There’s wetness gathering at his tip. You take it, mix it with your own. Pump him into your fist, imagining that it’s inside you, imagining what it would feel like to have him fuck you this fast, this hard, his bare chest beneath you.

“Can you come again?” He asks, voice strained. “I’m not gonna last.” 

You shake your head. “Just feels good to have you inside me, baby. I don’t need to come again—just come when you’re ready. I’m ready for you, Din. Just feel me.” 

He moans, wanton. Tips his head back against the back of the sofa as you fuck him with your hand. It’s so wet that you hear it, alongside the wet sounds of him pumping his fingers in and out of your tired, still-pulsing heat. You won’t come again, but it feels so good to have him in you, and you know that him still feeling you like this it’s what’s driving him closer and closer to the edge.

“Gods, you feel so good,” he whispers to the ceiling. You can’t see his skin, but you can see the outline of his neck, stretched out before you. Diving in, you suck at the expanse of him, leaving a mark right on the base of his neck where it meets his chest. “Shit, Mesh’la, I’m gonna fall apart—you’re going to make me—”

You grin into his neck. You can feel his balls tighten, his cock pulsing and thrumming in your palm. “Come for me,” you whisper, “come for me, baby.” 

He does. 

Barely keeping himself quiet, he gasps his way through it, and his finger inside you starts to stutter, his pace faltering as he comes. His hips buck up, stopped only by your weight in his lap. His spare hand runs through your hair like you’re a lifeline, and you let him, enjoying the feeling of his nails on your scalp.

“Oh, fuck,” he curses as he comes down, his chest heaving, the sharp lines of his armour the only thing visible in the near-darkness. He moves his hand to the back of your neck, pulls you in close to his face. “Kiss me,” he requests. “That was so fucking good.” 

You oblige, of course. Kiss him so intently, so quickly, that you only just notice when he pulls his fingers out of you. You feel empty and full all at once. He’s still only just coming down from his high, you can feel his blood racing beneath your palms, his heart rate fast. The fevered kiss begins to slow to something calmer, languid. 

He cradles your face between his hands. Kisses you like you’re the only thing that matters. Like this is all he ever wants to do.

Your hands hold the back of his neck. You hope that when you kiss him, he can tell how you feel. That he can feel the beat of your heart, the yearning in your chest, the warmth that blooms every time he’s around. 

Soon, the kiss turns to just holding each other. You put your face in his shoulder, forehead pressing against cool beskar. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in close, kissing the side of your head. Peppers kisses over your shoulder. 

“You said you’d never kissed anyone before,” you say quietly, tracing patterns in the beskar over his arm, “but if you tell me you’ve never done that before, I don’t think I can believe you.” 

He chuckles. “I have done that before,” he says. “But not…like this.” 

“Like this?” 

As if it’s his answer, he presses a long, lingering kiss to the apple of your cheek. “Without my helmet on,” he confesses, a whisper in the dark. 

Your heart lurches. 

You cling to him. Wishing you could put into words how that makes you feel. 

It’s a while later that you move. The lights are back on, and so is his helmet. You sit on the sofa while he goes over to the kitchen sink and wets a cloth. 

He asks you to go to bed with him, to let him sleep beside you. 

“You don’t have to say yes,” he assures you as he runs the warm cloth over your shirt where his release has coated it. 

You look down at him and smile. “I think this shirt is just gonna need washed for real,” you say with a smirk, appreciating his best efforts. Your underwear is gonna need changed, too. 

He huffs a laugh. “Alright. You’ve got sleep clothes now, anyway.” 

You nod. Before he can walk away, you take hold of his hand—still bare—and press a kiss to his fingertips. “Just one for the road,” you tell him, gazing up at him without moving your head. 

He brushes his other hand down your face. 

You close your eyes into the touch, tilt your head to kiss at that hand, too. “I’ll get changed,” you whisper, “then we can sleep.” You stand up, hand still in his.

He studies you for a second. “Are you sure?” 

You nod. “The bed’s much smaller than the one at the hotel. Might have to snuggle in real close to me.”

“You snore.” He says, a smirk in his voice.

“I do not!” 

“Yes, you do.” 

“Oh, Gods,” you cover your face with your hand, feeling your cheeks flush red. “Why didn’t you tell me that before? I’m sorry.”

He chuckles and removes your hand, showing your face again. “It’s alright,” he says, still chuckling, and it’s a beautiful sound, “I don’t mind. It’s nice.” 

You raise a dubious brow. “Nice? That I snore like a bantha?” 

“I never said it was that bad,” he says, still holding your hand in his, threading your fingers together. “It’s just nice to know you’re there.”

Your heart swells. You step closer, smile playfully, “You can’t block out the sound through that helmet?” 

“I could. But then I wouldn’t be able to hear anything at all.” 

“Fair point. I’m going to change.” You head for the ladder.

“I’ll make sure everything’s good up here, then I’ll be down. Get comfortable, okay?” 

You nod in response, then lower yourself down into the hull. 

Then, once you’ve changed, you’re in Din’s bed.

It’s just big enough for the two of you, with your back almost touching the wall. Grogu is asleep in the hammock above you; you can hear his tiny little snores. 

When Din comes down the ladder, you see him approach the bed chamber, and he’s already removed his cloak and cowl. Now his neck is on full show, and there’s a mark on the right side of it, just under his jaw. A mark that you left. 

Absently, your fingers brush over the marks on your own neck. You understand, now, why he does that. Why that’s a thing people do; to mark their person. Because the swell of pride in your chest when you see it there, a dark red mark on his lovely skin, a sign of the way he let you close, let you not only see but touch that part of him—it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

You watch as he removes his armour. He does it methodically, carefully, like it’s a routine. A ritual, even. Something well-practiced, handling each piece of his protection with care and precision. He lays them out on the floor outside the door, all folded and arranged properly. It’s fascinating to watch. You wonder how many times he’s done this. If it’s like muscle memory.

And then, he turns to you. Catches you staring, and tilts his head. 

“Sorry,” you say, quiet, “I’ve just never seen you do that before.” 

“You never watched a Mandalorian strip?” He teases, deadpan, crawling up the bed towards you. 

You giggle quietly. “Can’t say that I have, no,” you take hold of his flight suit, pulling him close. 

“Easy,” he chuckles, “let me get comfortable first.” 

“Sorry,” you say again with a sheepish smile, letting him go. 

“Don’t apologise for wanting to hold me.” 

You swallow heavily, watching as he rolls onto his side, pulls the blankets up over both of you. Then, with his head settled on the pillow, he reaches out and runs his bare hand down your arm, over the fabric of your pyjamas. As it reaches your wrist, he hooks his forefinger over your pinky, then slowly threads your fingers together. The touch is barely anything, just his hand, and yet it sends a shiver running down your spine. 

You’d reach out and touch his helmet if you could, but he’s still holding your hand, and the other is tucked up under your chin. So instead, you shuffle closer to him, close enough to press your forehead into the cool beskar over his. 

He sighs. It’s blissful; even though it’s modulated, you can tell. 

“I know you like to read before bed,” he says softly, letting go of your hand and instead tracing his finger up and down your arm, over and over. “Don’t let me stop you.” 

You shake your head. “I just want to lay here,” you whisper, “like this.” 

He brushes a piece of hair back from your face. It’s like he’s made it a mission to run his fingertip over every part of you that he can see. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes. This will calm me down before I sleep.” 

He nods. Then, after a beat, “Can I hold you?” 

“Yes,” you answer, not even needing to think about it. Your heart does a lovely little leap in your chest when he lets his hand slide around to your back, pulling you closer, both of you shuffling in to close the distance. You lift your leg, bend it, slot it in between both of his. Your arm reaches around, draping over the slight curve of his waist, enjoying the softness that lays there without the armour. Your hips are almost pressed flush together, your foreheads resting against one another, only beskar separating you.

notes: i hope you enjoyed! if you haven't read the rest of the fic yet and you fancy it, just go here!

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #gif cw #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #din djarin imagine

[joelsmochi]

﹟ABOUT MOCHI note: this is a sideblog! my main is yrself :)

who am i…

I’m Mochi, a 23 fanfiction writer with a tendency to daydream. I started writing fanfiction when I was 14 (for magcon, I don’t wanna think about it…), but quit after my sophomore year. 5 years later, I found my love for it again!

I’m bisexual, mixed (black and white), and for the most part consider myself nonbinary (fluid & fem presenting). Pronouns? Don’t care. She, he, they, xe, ze—w h a t e v e r as long as it’s not it/its/itself!

some things i love… (bond with me!)

I love thunderstorms, baking, cartoons, newjeans, my gamer bf, care bears, boba tea, matcha tea, watching new tv shows, tj maxx, tote bags, going to the movies, sunrises and sunsets, going to the beach, cuddling, spring and autumn, men that are too old for me, and white russian kahlúas

some things i hate…

I hate yelling/arguing, being tickled, black coffee, any flavor of ramen that’s not chicken, toffee, butter pecan ice cream, sea salt caramel anything, and making bread — i’m sure this list is longer

﹟ABOUT MY BLOG

Most of my work is NSFW. If you are under 18 I cannot stop you from reading, but please do not interact (that includes liking, reblogging, commenting, etc.) — this is for everyone’s safety!

Speaking of NSFW content: I try my best to tag every warning there is without giving away spoilers, but if I ever miss anything that NEEDS to be tagged please do not hesitate to message me and let me know!

Most of my work is reader based, and I try to generally avoid writing physical descriptions other than attire because I want everyone to be able to self insert. That being said I will ALWAYS tag any physical descriptions I choose to include in my work! And if I ever miss any tags related to physical descriptions feel free to let me know :)

﹟REQUESTS

I’d LOVE to fulfill your fantasies, so do not be afraid to send a request or two into my inbox. It can be SFW or NSFW. All I ask is for your patience and the one thing I will NEVER write for is anything containing r*pe kinks, this includes CNC & underage.

Not to sound like a broken record, but please do not request NSFW content if you are under 18. If you send in a NSFW request you are telling me that you are a legal adult!

When sending a request if there is anything specific you DO NOT want me to write about, please include it! (Spanking, choking, etc.)

﹟CHARACTERS I WRITE FOR

While there are characters I am uncomfortable writing, I am in no way limited to this list, so if there’s someone else you’d love for me to write for send in the request and I’ll see if I can make it happen ;)

MEN: Joel Miller, Javier Peña, Frankie Morales, Din Djarin, Daryl Dixon, Rick Grimes, Scud (Blade 2), Leon S. Kennedy, Johnny Cage…

WOMEN: Abby Anderson, Ellie Williams, Rosita Espinosa, Michonne Grimes…

I do not and will not write for real world celebrities! Characters only, people, characters only!

﹟MISC.

(coming soon…)

#about mochi! #mochi talks 🍡૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა #blog is under construction so i apologize for having no masterlist yet /.\

[trinidaddy888]

You Wanna Smoke? (Chapter 2)

Chase runs out of weed and must go to the human world to get more. How will they manage? And who will they be smoking weed with? Find out in this self-indulgent fic about my Obey Me blunt rotation.

Characters: MC, Mammon, Lucifer, Thirteen, Diavolo, Asmodeus, Simeon, Beelzebub, Solomon

Genre: Slice of Life

Tags: Marijuana, Recreational Drug use, No romance just bros being bros, No Spoilers

A/n: I had a blunt rotation list for Obey Me characters that I’d like to smoke weed with and I decided to make it into a story. The full story is already posted to AO3 but I wanted to keep a writing tumblr for all my stories.

Story Index

There was a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” I called out.

“Me,” replied Mammon from the other side. 

I let him in. He pulled out a small clear bag filled with a green herb. He grinned.

“I got you some marijuana,” he said proudly. “It’s gunna cost ya 50 grim.”

I glanced at it and then back at him.

“That’s oregano,” I said, unimpressed.

“No it’s not! You barely looked at it.”

“Mammon, I’ve been smoking weed for 7 years. I know weed when I see it. You didn’t even try hard enough to fool me.”

“Okay, fine,” he gave in, “I don’t actually know how to get weed.”

“Hm, so you just wasted my time, then.”

“C’mon! At least give me credit for trying!”

“No, you were trying to scam me!”

I sighed. Honestly, I could not be mad at Mammon for trying to scam me. That was simply just how he was.

“Where did you get the idea to sell me oregano, Mammon?” I asked.

“Oh,” he said, “I sell that to Solomon all the time. I knew it wasn’t marijuana but he keeps buying it from me so I thought all humans liked to smoke it.”

I chuckled. For a human who knows a lot, Solomon doesn’t seem like the type to know about recreational drugs. I pondered for a bit.

“Mammon,” I said, “ Who do you think acts high or smells of a strong odor out of all the students at RAD?

He looked down in thought.

“Asmo smells of a strong odor sometimes. And he acts a bit strange. I don’t know if that means that he is high, though.”

“Alright,” I said confidently, “ Let’s go pay Asmo a visit.”

—----------

“Come in,” said Asmo, after I knocked on the door.

Mammon and I entered the room. The first thing that greeted me in Asmo’s room was the smell of roses. Flowers adorned the walls. Expensive, vintage furniture added to its pomp and splendor. His room looked like it was made for a beautiful princess. Central to the room was a large golden vanity with a massive mirror. Asmo was seated there, applying toner to his face.

“So,” I began once I heard that Mammon shut the door behind us, “Your room smells amazing. What do you do? Spray air refresher?”

Asmo scoffed with disgust. “Gross. No. I use only the finest and most luxurious perfumes because that is what a gorgeous being like myself deserves. My room must be as sexy as I am. Did you come to my room to insult me? What is it that you want?”

“May I sit?” I asked.

He motioned for me and Mammon to take a seat on the love seat by the window.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I only asked that because I’m used to only making my room smell good to cover up suspicious smells. Surely, a man of your taste only does it for himself and not to cover anything up.”

He squinted at me. “Chase, what are you accusing me of?”

“Do ya smoke weed or not?” blurted Mammon.

I shot a glare at Mammon. He shrugged.

Asmo chuckled and then said, “Ew. Disgusting. Marijuana? Do you know how bad it smells? Besides, I go for uppers, not downers.”

“Like coke?” I asked, feeling myself squirm.

“No, darling,” he said with an eye roll, “Molly, E, Ecstacy, or whatever else you humans call it. It’s fun to party with and do orgies with.”

“Ohhhh,” I said, “Yea, that’s not for me. That actually makes sense, considering that you’re a social person who is horny sometimes.”

“Horny, all the time,” said Mammon.

“Yes,” said Asmo, “And is that all you came to ask me?”

“Well… since you like recreational drugs yourself, do you know anyone who might smoke weed or even like, sell it?”

He pointed to Mammon, “Doesn’t he sell some to Solomon?”

“No, that’s oregano,” Mammon and I said synchronously. 

“Well,” said Asmo with a shrug, “Then I cannot help you. If you’re done here, you can leave. Unless you want to watch me do my skincare routine and cuddle after.”

“Honestly,” I said, “I don’t mind doing that.”

“Great,” Asmo said, smiling as he patted an empty space on his vanity chair next to him.

“What?!” Mammon spat, “Ya don’t want to hang out with the Great Mammon, alone?”

“Why don’t we all just hang together?” I asked.

“Ugh! Fine.” 

#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me mc #obey me fanfic #obey me fanfiction #obey me fandom #obey me fanart #the art is under the read more #you wanna smoke?

[borreloadsavagedragon]

11, 16, and 20

oh god, I’ll do my best!!!

11. number of fandom-related words you've filtered

3! And they are all names for the same one ship bc this community loves to make new names out of nowhere for everything omg

I’ve mentioned this one in particular before vaguely in character ask games but I don’t wanna always bring it up, the tag and filtering system does all it has to for me and ygo is one of the few communities that actually does tag accordingly usually, Twitter is the raging exception but Twitter rewards witty captions versus tags and I love obstacle courses 

I’ve gotten vagued about and subtweeted enough for sharing the ships I do like, I’d hate to be someone who bashes something of value to someone else and make them feel insecure about their favorite things by subtweeting them because I do know many who do love the pair 

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

I had to think on this one bc the only things I could honest to god think of were a handful of ships and I really don’t wanna go that route dbshhsjs

I will literally read anything that isn’t like… too much into dead dove territory 

BUT

Some Fanon inside jokes can be annoying once they’re super overdone, ygo jokes I come across aren’t too bad outside of the TCG (ygo players reading jokes and draw good card memes are so bad, stop making them 733627472738 times) but like… even in our small franchise corner, some of them are overplayed

Like Yusei drank milk once and now his figure has to have a glass of milk, we did that

NSFW for literally ten seconds but

(also stop making the stereotypical rival characters into domineering or nasty tops, it’s weird)

20. part of canon you found tedious or boring

oh my god ok, here it is, the one question I can go full hater on

Ok so I LOVE protags usually, I'm rarely a protag hater, but I hate when shows go out of their way to make protags solve EVERYTHING even when it’s really not appropriately theirs, like shows that need to find reasons to keep protagonists in the episode or in the frame, or to remind us that it’s the protag’s world and the cast is just all living in it

Like it’s definitely my fault being so involved with Shonen shows that I don’t get to see the latter happen a lot since Shonen is like the BIGGEST offender of this trope but I still wanna complain!!!!!!

God I lowkey wanna talk abt Arc V for this but we’re just gonna… *brushes show off of desk into a lock drawer* 

That’s a can I cannot open

So let's talk Zexal II, aka the part where I get to talk about the worst duel in the entire franchise because I can’t even rewatch these episodes for my analysis without wanting to slap my computer shut, it makes me that angry 

Uh

Some Spoilers since I know you're still watching

😭😭😭

Like this comes from a place of someone who fights off Yuma hate in the TCG community regularly

But in my whole ass I feel like Heartland and Kaito’s duel is an actual disaster

It's also honestly a little bit of character assassination as a treat for no reason but we'll touch that in detail in the paper

And letting Yuma and Astral take this duel over is just an egregious slap in the face lmfao

Especially how the show chooses to handle Kaito passing out and everything following when he finally returns to consciousness that just makes him essentially a step up from background character

Yet people deadass have the nerve to say Kaito has the most favoritism, bitch where lol

Extremely unsatisfying to watch someone who's been an established threat for the ENTIRE show not be able to dismantle the last standing figure in their life who’s been a source of great pain to them and someone who has never dueled up until this point at that! And not only does he NOT get to take the dub, it's literally his second last duel in the entire show and while the last duel is INCREDIBLE, making this a moment of glory for the protags is weird!

Idk, I stand firmly that this part is unwatchable, just a very badly done way to backseat Kaito to shift the focus onto the original duo, and that in theory is cool, but there are so many better ways to do it

But shonen isn't shonen without some dramatic hero comeback

Shonen is such a love/hate relationship

#this took a while oh my god #thank you!!!!!! #asks #answered

[fitztragedy]

@peek-a-bloom hi bitch, i’m writing this here bcs the ask didn’t let me write a lot but I wanna tag you bcs i wanted to discuss something with you specifically.

(tw: suicide discussion; also FTWS S02 spoilers)

I heard you a few times refer to the last scene in s02 as "Bloom commiting suicide" and ... I have to disagree I'm sorry.

I don't think she commited suicide at all. I think she commited the exact opposite (maybe not literal exact but), sacrifice.

I mean it might just me being triggered by the word, but in my pov, suicide is when you don't care. When you felt too much that you got to a point where you don't feel anything or you want all the pain to go away because you can’t stand it anymore. Like what Musa did in ep 04, giving her powers up to the scrapers. Suicide is selfish (and I say it as someone who’s been at the edge and felt everyone of these feelings), because you don’t think about anyone but yourself and you just want to be gone.

Sacrifice on the other hand is the opposite, is dying for others and not yourself. Is caring too much about everyone else and wanting them to stop hurting, even if it means you hurt yourself. Yes, it can technically be selfharm because you’re purposefully putting yourself in danger but at the end of the day what is the main reason for it? Others.

I don’t think what Bloom did was selfish, not anywhere near it. She walked through the portal not knowing what was going to happen, not knowing if she was going to live or die bcs she knew if she didn’t it could destroy the entire otherworld, it could hurt her friends, it could kill her boyfriend. She she did it because she cared too much about her friends not to do it.

During the whole two seasons she’s done a series of selfish acts, releasing Rosalind, giving Sebastian the upper hand because she wanted to know the truth about herslelf, but in her last moment she was selfless, which is kinda poetic i guess...

Anyone this is my piece of thought about this discussion.

#sorry for the long thought dump i just needed it out kkkkk #been thinking too much about this #bloom peters #ftws #fate the winx saga #bloom

[pedrito-friskito]

✨kay’s ultimate pedro ranking✨

ok ok ok ok @mandosmistress did this a while back (like a few days lmao what is time) and tagged me and I HAVE BEEN T H I N K I N G let me tell you.

so without further ado, under the cut is my (not so definitive) pedro pascal character ranking…..! (based mainly on attraction/how much I enjoy writing them)

FRANKIE MORALES. frankie. frankie frankie frankie. my man. sunshine of my life (haha see what I did there). there is just something about this character that really crawled into my chest, wrapped himself around my heart and said ”hi I live here now” and I’m cool with it. handsome in that rugged way, a little bit damaged, and good with his hands? done. hook, line, and sinker.

DIN DJARIN. oh the sweet soft-spoken tin can space man. in all honesty, him and Frankie fight for the top spot on a daily basis and sometimes the beskar-covered bounty hunter wins, and he truly was my pedro gateway drug so he’s gotta be high on my list.

JAVIER PEÑA. ohhhhhh mama I love me some Javi. (do I mainly blame my gargantuan crush on @the-ginger-hedge-witch and her brilliant Crush series YES AS A MATTER OF FACT I DO) something about those tight fuckin’ jeans and the stache and the aviators like yep honey take me I’m yours

JAVIER GUTIERREZ. sunshine baby angel too good for this world I just wanna give him a little kiss and carry him around in my pocket and make sure no harm every comes to him (no I haven’t written anything for him yet but I been thinkin’ thots okay)

DIETER BRAVO. ✨the trash man✨ another one I just wanna carry around in my pocket, also the hair does things for me (same with Javi G) like just let me run my fingers through it and I’ll die a happy gal. questionable life choices maybe, but we’ve all been there, right?

OBERYN MARTELL. oh my HEART. *cue adele* we could have had it AAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLL. I would say spoilers but it was legitimately 8 years ago but he was so CLOSE and then so SQUISHED. tbh oberyn is the most intimidating to me to even think of writing but maybe someday….

MARCUS PIKE. I do really like Marcus. cheesy as hell? check. bit overboard sometimes? double check. BUT I really like the history of the character we got in limited scenes AND I have a fic idea for him I’ve been sitting on FOREVER and I def have to use it soon!

PERO TOVAR. okay I love me a grungy fantasy man okay like that’s my bread and butter. add in the grouchiness and the obvious way to his heart through his stomach? it’s go time, baby, I got plans for him too!

JACK DANIELS. oh darlin’, he hits the middle of my list for the sole reason that pedro and that whip awoken something in me that hasn’t shut up since I watched that movie and if you don’t think I’ve watched that clip where he pushes his jacket back and it’s a crystal-clear shot of his ass you are WRONG

EZRA PROSPECT. fits the grungy, violent thing pedro seems to work with half the time, and honestly, the linguistics of this man make my head spin (the main reason I haven’t written much for him because it’s a looooot of effort to try and think up dialogue for him!!!) BUT I do love that little moon-touched spot and the scar and the smile and just ugh yum

THE THIEF. full disclosure: I haven’t read a lot of fics about the thief (if anyone has recs let me at ‘em) buuuuuut I really like the whole vibe he has and the outfit? spectacular.

MARCUS MORENO. the glasses definitely do it for me but idk something about him I just…meh. have definitely read some fab fics about daddy moreno (maybe I’ll revisit him at some point). still hot, still delicious, just not my number one fav.

MAX PHILLIPS. maybe not the biggest asshole pedro’s played but definitely up there? I sat through the movie just for him, honestly the scene of him on the couch made it worth it and the smarminess is something else, but idk if I could ever write him! (kudos to all that do!)

DAVE YORK. ok ok ok ok OKAYYYYYYY. listen. he’s the baddie (and like a really bad baddie) so I gotta put him low on my list as far as attraction goes (plus I have mixed emotions about P without facial hair but I digress…) BUT I do have ideas. they are on the horizon. keep your eyes OPEN.

MAX LORD. I haven’t even watched wonder woman 1984 and I know he needs to be down here. maybe I’ll get some form of intoxicated this weekend and power through it, just for shits and giggles!

well KUDOS if you made it this far, this was actually so fun to do!

tagging a few pals just because, no pressure 😇

@prolix-yuy @pedropascalsx @mandoblowmybackout @mindidjarin @allfoolsinluv @iamskyereads and obvi anyone else who wants to play!!!

#pedro pascal #kay talks to people #mutual bbys #the ULTIMATE SHOWDOWN #pedro pascal characters

[familyagrestefanblog]

What is this about the season 5 "Bible" being leaked? What happened, where and when??

And most importantly, is it any kind of trustworthy source and where can that be checked and confirmed?

Right now both here on Tumblr and on Twitter I see nothing but vague enough posts ABOUT the supposedly leaked season 5 Bible and while I'm glad that you guys in the ml spoiler tag didnt go total apeshit disregarding everyone else... I would still like to know and find out about this leak to be sure that someone out there isn't completely making a fool out of us other fans with a fake s5 Bible leak. I don't want to say that I don't believe this Bible leak exists at all, but it is suspicious enough that when I look it up I actually only find posts talking ABOUT the Bible, what it supposedly said and people asking to IGNORE said Bible. But never actually the Bible itself or anything DIRECTLY from the Bible that isn't just passed down words.

Cause I'm gonna be honest, Miraculous has a massive spoiler, leak and overall chaotic release culture unlike any other show I have witnessed yet. And we fans are completely desensitized to all of this and don't question this kind of stuff anymore the way we should. If there is any show I can see someone successfully pull of a fake final season Bible hoax right before the season starts its definitely Miraculous.

The only thing I found that I can say is definitely credible is that Thomas Astruc acknowledged the leak in a tweet and didn't call it out as a fake or anything right there and then

But even here it's important to not just jump to conclusions right of the bat and acknowledge that there is still a big grey area free for interpretation to be read in this tweet. There is NEVER just one way to read something like this and the original intentions behind it also can vary widely. I learned to be very VERY careful with vague stuff like this. Especially with as little information as I can actually find online for the Bible leak (much less the leak itself) I just wanna throw out there that this may not be a direct "no" to discredit it, but at the same time this also isn't a direct "yes" either.

It's an acknowledgment that the Bible leak exists and that there is something about the matter that Astruc definitely takes seriously. But what the aspect of the content of the Bible is that he takes serious and to what degree can not be said from the tweet alone.

Let's say hypothetically the Bible leak is a huge fake and incorporates 15 big informations about the season, 13 of it are bullshit but 2 actually managed to hit the nail on its head. Then for these 2 informations alone this tweet would be warranted since Miraculous leaks and spoilers have the tendency to go viral incredibly fast with people taking too much at face value. Miraculous is in an increasingly vulnerable position regarding potential fake leaks, more than any show I have ever seen.

Look, don't read this as me saying I deny the possibility of the Bible leak actually being real and that whatever is spreading around the internet right now is not to be taken seriously at all. Of course not.

I'm just asking to step back a bit, look at the situation at hand and the actual informations you have to go off of and question it more than just on face value. This is the internet, false information are spread like wildfire and theoretically speaking, every information you get on the internet should be questioned for its biased and background while being taken with a healthy dosis of caution.

I guess I'm not so much asking for you to not take the leaked Bible itself seriously, the situation I see probably just rubs me the very wrong way because I can't find too much substantial and credible when I'm looking for it online now which makes it seem like a prime example of people (especially young people/kids like the main audience for miraculous would be) being taken advantage of, manipulated through false information and desensitized to believing sourceless news/informations on the internet right of the bat.

I guess where I am getting at here at the core is to please be careful with informations and leaks like these. Check the sources, anything official you can put your trust in and most importantly take everything you see with a grain of salt. I'm not saying don't believe it at all, acknowledge the possibility that it might be true but keep at the back of your head that there are countless ways for this to have played out behind the scenes than you assumed at the first glance and that you simply don't know what the actual truth in this regard is.

Acknowledge the information but also acknowledge how little you know when it comes to big stuff like this, especially when there isn't alot to find source-wise. Miraculous is a fictional story so there is not too much harm being done to not take fact-checking this super seriously. But there are endless examples like this regarding the actual real world and real world problems where source wise you get just as little and people are getting taken advantage of and manipulated on grand scales by other people with the needed know how to believe false informations.

Miraculous is fictional but the desensitizing/manipulative nature leaks/spoilers can have (especially as massive as it always happens with Miraculous) are very much real and I guess I'm just asking you guys to be careful.

I find it hard enough to sometimes actually take any tweet of any of the ml screw members seriously and at face value because they simplify or straight up contradict what's going on it the show to a degree I refuse to support. And now someone anonymous leaked the s5 Bible and I can't find too much credible about it?

Yeah, I'm gonna take this with a HUGE grain of salt and wait for the show to actually air to see what happens.

#ml spoilers #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #ml season 5 #Supposed ml s5 Bible leak #Taking it with a huge grain of salt #Regardless of that people say is the content within the Bible #Ml leaks #Ml spoilers