#and I might be switching that process up anyway tbd

[magpie-to-the-morning]

Hey Emma! In case inspiration strikes

10. “Spread your legs wider.” with Din or Jack 👀

Bee!! I dove straight into this one. I hope you like it. 😘

18+ ONLY. Unbeta’d, untagged, but smut with explicit consent. 1k

The durasteel walls are slick beneath your palms, cool to the touch and unforgivably smooth as you scrabble for balance. A chuckle distinctly lacking in sympathy crackles through the vocoder behind your ear.

“Told you.”

You huff, unwilling to admit defeat. “I’ve surfed waves bigger than your ship on Spira, Mando, I think I can handle a little turbulence.”

As if the Galaxy itself is determined to prove you wrong, the Crest pitches violently to the left and sends you flying back against the Mandalorian’s chest. You land with a soft oomph against his unyielding bulk and he steadies you with one arm slung low around your hips.

“Udesii. I’ve got you.”

His thumb brushes lazily against your bare hip, suede soft and leaving a trail of warmth shivering in its wake. You relax into his hold instinctively, the now-familiar contrast of cold Beskar and worn leather as comforting as the low rumble of his voice.

“You sure you don’t want to go back to our - back to the bunk?”

“And let you win? Not likely.”

Over the last few weeks, he’s had you everywhere else on his ship. Straddling his lap in the cockpit as you rode him blindfolded. Face-down on the small galley table while he ate you from behind until you dug your nails into its surface and sobbed. Clinging to him in the pitch black ‘fresher, the only time he’d come to you completely bare, and even then only after a hunt went so badly wrong you thought neither of you would make it out alive.

Most often, you’ve fucked in his bunk but between his broad frame and his reluctance to fully shed his armor, it’s a tight fit in more ways than one. He’d sounded intrigued by your proposal of wall sex, and his wry insinuation that you wouldn’t be able to manage to take him standing up only made you more determined.

Besides, you’ve been thinking about it all day.

“Want you like this,” you pout, half teasing, half sultry. You’re not sure which half makes up his mind but with a few muttered words of Mando’a, he guides your hands back to the wall.

“Atin dala. Spread your legs.” Without waiting for you to comply, he knocks your ankle, forcing you to widen your stance, one gloved hand steadying your hip. He moves your body with a practiced ease and despite the joy you take in sparring with him, submitting brings its own delicious thrill.

“Good girl.”

Anticipation sparks hot along your spine and sends a rush of molten heat straight to your core. You move to look over your shoulder but he catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“Eyes forward, pretty.”

Your toes curl, knowing what's coming next. Sure enough, there’s the telltale hiss and a quiet clink of metal as he sets his helmet down. The lights are fully on and you could easily steal at least a glimpse of his features, to at least catch a fleeting sight of the man you’ve been flying with (not to mention fucking), but despite your curiosity, you refuse to so much as peek.

You know what it’s costing him to open up even this far and besides, you would never break the trust he’s handed you, so you stay still, your eyes fixed on the dull sheen in front of you.

“Jate dala.”

This time his humid breath ghosts past your ear and his words of praise come to you unfiltered. Your breath hitches at the raw sound of his voice, the sweet, deep rumble only you get to hear. The need coiling in your belly hooks you sharp and sudden and you rock back against him in time with your own ragged breathing, unable to stop yourself begging for more.

More movement, more heat. More him.

“Please.”

The desperate plea catches in your throat and he stiffens, then releases you. Doubt sends you reeling, anchorless and exposed. Did you push too far? Let your need for him show too much?

“Mando, I - “

Before your anxious thoughts unspool any further, you’re interrupted by the sound of his gloves slapping against the floor where he’s thrown them aside and then his hands, his large, warm, bare hands are at your waist.

“Din. Ner gai cuyir Din.”

His fingers curl around your sex and when he finds you already dripping for him, he works his cock through your folds, the flushed head pushing past your lips while he grinds the base against your swollen clit. You reach down and grasp him, pumping his stiff length and palming it flush against your heat until you move as one being, slick and gasping.

Just as you’re approaching the blinding edge of your first orgasm, there’s a rough jolt all around you. The Crest lurches violently to one side and even as he curses and braces you both against the wall, the blunt head of his cock slips inside you. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, the sensation somehow too much and not enough all at once.

He holds himself rigid beside you and it’s only the rough edge of his voice that hints at the effort of keeping still.

“You good?”

You nod and manage an only slightly strangled yes. He drops his forehead to the back of your neck while you both adjust to the sudden fullness, the unexpected pressure.

No matter how many times he takes you, your Mandalorian is unfailingly… Gentle is the wrong word. So is respectful, although it hits closer to the mark. Careful comes closest. Like he’s afraid of hurting you. Of scaring you away.

As if he doesn’t realize that his arms are the safest place in the Galaxy and all you want is rest there for as long as he’ll have you.

When you can’t stand it any longer you whine and beg for him to move, to fill you, to fuck himself so deep inside you it feels, just for a moment, like he’ll never leave.

His arm bands around your chest, pulling you flush against him as noses at your cheek, perilously close to letting you catch a glimpse of his face. But you don’t need to see him to know that a smile is pulling at the corners of his mouth as he leans in close and says,

“Spread your legs wider.”

-

Mando’a Translations

Udesii - take it easy

Atin dala - stubborn girl

Jate dala - good girl

Din. Ner gai cuyir Din. - Din. My name is Din.

[identityexcavationstation]

The High Fidelity Remake is Good and my Identity is Irreversibly Linked to Music Consumption

Hi! So, I’m kinda insane about playlists.

This year I’ve made a lot of them. They’ve been short and snappy on index cards, scanned and pasted in a book and uploaded to the internet. (I’ve really fallen in love with index card playlists and they’re my thing now and I think everyone should do them always and forever.) They were easy to churn out as a retrospective exercise because the music I listened to as a teenager really defined my high school experience. Also, I have most of my favorite songs from that period in a very dramatic playlist I started in 2014 so it was really a game of copy-and-paste. 

Making these smol boys in batches has been a really peculiar experience because for years now, I’ve only made one playlist at a time. In my second semester of college, I’d officially burned myself out listening to only CHVRCHES for three months and began venturing elsewhere. (Don’t get me wrong, CHVRCHES absolutely bangs, but you can only listen to “Never Ending Circles” so many times before getting seasick.) All of the random songs I was listening to made me feel kinda hazy and purple, like I’d done all of this before. So I made a playlist full of them and called it “Deja Vu.”

I added to it all semester, and then suddenly it was summer and I didn’t feel purple and hazy anymore⁠—everything was blue and crisp on the way to South Haven as my friend blasted “Settle Down” by Kimbra in her beat-up Honda. So I started a new playlist and named it the first word that popped into my head: “Roots.”

Using Deja Vu as a rubric, I developed some ground rules for the playlists I would go on to create. They are pretty nonsensical but also exceedingly firm because if I don’t make rules for every area of my life I feel like I’m falling into a deep and limitless void. Health! Anyway, the rules are:

The playlist’s title has to be a short noun (seven letters maximum).

This has since transformed into a noun that is also a verb.

To generate a title, I ask myself what short word I would use to describe the phase of life I’m currently in. The answer comes quickly and reflexively, and I choose the very first word I think of.

One song per artist, no repeats!

Exceptions are made for artists who are featured on a track.

There have been times when I’ve obsessively listened to a whole album or an artist’s entire discography, so I have to choose just one song that represents the very best of that album or artist.

Tracks are added chronologically, based on when I first hear them and/or start listening to them compulsively.

The playlist has to contain an amount of tracks that is divisible by five.

If a song in a playlist is deleted from Spotify, I have to find a replacement asap that is accurate to what I was listening to when that playlist was being created.

and, most importantly, 

I can’t make a new playlist until I feel I’m finished with the current one.

These playlists represent seasons of my life, cycles in which I change and evolve and stagnate and fuck up and try again. The only rule I have for beginning a new playlist is that I feel done with the current one—those songs are a little stale and don’t represent me anymore. These “seasons” don’t have any set length, and I can never predict when I’ll feel like a new being who needs new songs to define her. So far, my life has looked like this:

Deja Vu - 176 days (12.03.16 - 05.28.17) Most common lyrics: now, love, time, need, take

snow that covers ivy that covers bricks, towers made from dining hall dishes, smiling at the bus stop without knowing, sheet masks in the dorm bathroom at 2am, pink string lights and pink crocheted blankets and pink shag carpeting, cheap beer behind tarps and walking everyone home

Roots - 111 days (05.28.17 - 09.16.17)  Most common lyrics: love, one, give, wanna, know

t-shirt tan lines, mozzarella and tomato and basil and singed spaghetti, sunset walks around abandoned high schools, green leaves outlined in watercolor, the smell of mildew and old paper in banker’s boxes, sweat-soaked french braids, the knife twist of eye contact, tarot readings under lamplight

Walls - 110 days (09.16.17 - 01.04.18)   Most common lyrics: wanna, know, baby, take, feel

crying in the gender-neutral restroom, pretty boys holding guitars or rolling rock, photos in the forest, blue carpeting and lofted bedframes, pitch-black bonfires, sitting in the dining hall to just watch the people pass, snow on eyelashes in large wet clumps, laughing at lies

Bite - 78 days (01.04.18 - 03.23.18)    Most common lyrics: know, love, stay, come, need

impatience at the airport, texting on the laundry room floor, nervous night drives, five grilled cheese sandwiches, acne like freckles, ceiling photos taken in secret, watercolor lines and paper houses, broken glass on the sidewalk, ink-stained forearms, notebook paper comics, writing small on basement walls

Windows - 131 days (03.23.18 - 08.01.18)   Most common lyrics: love, now, know, baby, fall

books piled up by the bed, rum and coke and orange juice and vodka and cheap white wine, rainy day night walks, streetlights turning the leaves orange, echoes from the party upstairs, solo trips to the grocery store, always leaving the blinds open, aperol and chai lattes and smørrebrød, never coming home

Grip - 136 days (08.01.18 - 12.15.18)    Most common lyrics: know, boy, lost, girl, night

read receipts, the creaking of an empty house, sand and bricks and traffic cones, sitting on the curb and shaking, applause at dinner, bubble tea, bike rides in torn jeans, mr brightside blasting at 10am, doodles during lectures, embroidery at the kitchen table, blue bus panic attacks, half an apple for lunch

Wait - 117 days (12.15.18 - 04.11.19)  Most common lyrics: heart, want, one, back, know

crying in the lobby, measuring oats by the quarter cup, drunken voice memos, shoes on power lines, another bowl of granola, reading all the lyrics, photos taken with the flash on, sleeping on strange couches, shoeboxes full of photographs, wire catching the sunlight, fifteen minutes of windchill

Wave - 108 days (04.11.19 - 07.28.19)  Most common lyrics: wanna, know, now, love, come

dancing on the porch, reading on the roof, tipsy trips to the corner store, silent heavy parlor air, chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting, barred windows and string lights and exit signs, highlighting the important parts, nails tapping on wooden tables, wet wind before the storm, biking straight into the smoke

Home - 178 days (07.28.19 - 01.22.20)   Most common lyrics: down, know, now, wanna, think

steep downhill walks, fingertips covered in graphite and lead, blank faces on green walls, forest walkways, hands gripping thighs too tightly, light leaks in darkrooms, the handwriting of strangers, chains trapped between teeth, white words left unread, twirling at the tennis court, yellow becoming blue

Hand - 63 days (01.22.20 - 03.25.20)   Most common lyrics: know, time, love, die, back

masking tape messages, laughing four shots in, BiC .07mm HB mechanical pencils slipped into coat cuffs, cheeks blushed with red ink, green floodlights and kissed knuckles, windows fogged from the inside, falling asleep with earbuds in, finger guns and everything in boxes, wedging open locked doors

_______________________________________________________________________

It’s interesting to look back at these playlists altogether, see them as self-contained units, little stories I tell about myself, about the people I used to be. Adding a song to one of these playlists was like making a vow, entering a relationship with a collection of sounds. It’s like I was saying “this song is now a part of me.” I constructed this little world for myself in the space between my ears, and it, in turn, created me.

I really mean it when I say that the first word that floats to the front of my mind becomes the title of whatever playlist I’m making. I never question what the word means, and its meaning always ends up describing that season of my life. 

“Roots” became a period of reconnecting with essential pieces of myself I thought I had abandoned. 

During “Grip,” I was holding on so tightly to things that had left me ages ago, and I think I knew that, even if I was unable to admit it to myself. 

“Wait” revealed itself in two ways: it was a time in which 1.) I felt stagnant and restless, unable to be patient, and 2.) I was forced to grasp with a physical and emotional weight that had been bearing down on me. 

The mind is a magical thing—it processes what we refuse to recognize. 

Speaking of which, these playlist covers have been driving me up the wall for ages. They’re like nails on a freaking chalkboard for my synesthesia. Is “Bite” a heavily blue playlist? Sure. But is “Home” purple? Is “Grip” pink??? I think the fuck not! 

(I could do a whole goddamn blog post on synesthesia, and I might.)

Now that I know how to switch out playlist cover art (can you believe it’s taken me this long to figure out how to do that?), I have decided to issue myself a challenge/project/way to procrastinate actual work I have to do. 

I’d like to make a piece of cover art for all of the above playlists. And because I am, to reiterate, insane, I’m setting up some Rules For Creation:

All works must be the same size, on the same type of paper using similar materials (tbd but probably graphite, colored pencil, watercolor, fineliners, and/or collage).

The preliminary sketch for each cover must be created while listening to the playlist.

Each piece can (must?) incorporate the five most common lyrics as listed above because goddammit I did not spend four hours compiling lyrics in a web-based word cloud generator for nothing.

If I’m not having fun, I won’t make myself do it because this is literally just for laffs. 

Anyway, I’m looking forward to creating some fun weird art! I know nobody is gonna read this and nobody is gonna comment but if, by some miracle, you feel like it, comment a playlist you’ve made that you’re really proud of! Or comment if you have some weird playlist rules! Or cyberbully me! Anything’s fair game. 

TL;DR playlists are fun and I’m a maniac :)

[strydcr]

hellooo babes, i’m blair waldorf acacia (◠‿◠✿) nineteen, she/her, and the main admin here. lol sooo sorry you guys are all trapped in this rp with me. but wtver~ you guys will learn to adore my 3am messages comin’ up with plot that’ll hurt us and what not. also meet the beauty that is stryder estrellas. anyways, i’ll try to keep this as short as possible. since i always get lazy halfway thru writin’ intros. :~)) )) ) &&. of course this got way longer than expected so just find the ☪  at the end to read the summary // aim: alohacacia && skype: alohacacia

****psa you clicked on this so you’re obligated to plot with me srry but i don’t make the rules.

░   * . ╰ ✯ ›  ⊰ SELENA GOMEZ, CIS-FEMALE, TWENTY-THREE ⊱ is that STRYDER ESTRELLAS ? the BARISTA & FLORAL SHOP ASSISTANT MANAGER. they’re known to be INTELLIGENT & INDEPENDENT. but also BLUNT & CYNICAL. unknown to them, they are the reincarnation of PERSEPHONE.

BACKGROUND + TRIGGER WARNINGS: cheating 

well to kick things off, stryder is that one night stand baby. let’s call her biological dad “bio father/dad” and her mom’s husband “dad” then of course her mom is “mom”. sorry if this is confusing. but just think about how stryder is gonna feel once she finds out about this.

once upon a time her mom and her dad were happily in love. like they were the high school sweethearts who ended up getting married and blah blah blah. but before she was born, there was a point in time where the two broke up. probably once they were both about to start freshman year of college. that’s when her mom hooked up with stryder’s bio dad. she obviously ended up getting pregnant. but she ended up making up with stryder’s dad. SOOOOOOO…. he thinks he’s stryder’s father. but he ain’t. the one night stand hook up is.

stryder is completely unaware of the fact that he’s not her real father. her mom is still in contact with her biological dad. obviously, keeping that a secret from both her husband and stryder. but it’s only because her bio dad always sends her money to help provide for stryder. so basically this family is a mess. but only on the low. because on the outside this family is absolutely perfect. she grew up in a really nice household. suburban type of wealth in a town outside of los angeles, california. big house, nice cars, a vacation every now and then. but not rich enough to like be bill gates or something you get what i’m saying? just a nice upper middle class.

you might be wondering... how did they end up in seattle? one day her dad told the fam he had to move out to there because of work. (occupation: tbd) so they packed up everything they had and left. this was around the time stryder was starting her senior year of high school. stryder really isn’t the type to throw a fit over dumb shit. but you know this girl started bawling knowing she wasn’t going to graduate with her only two friends. ‘cause she had to start the loner life all over again.

now, stryder works at a small coffee shop as a barista and an assistant manager at a floral shop. (cause persephone, flowers, how cute.....) she does go to school at a community college about 30 minutes away from her house. probably studying to become a botanists. (a literal flowerchild yes.) and to her surprise she is actually enjoying living here. she doesn’t know why, but she feels drawn to the place.

PERSONALITY + RELATIONSHIPS + TRIGGER WARNINGS: anxiety 

PERSONALITY wise, she’s that tumblr post that’s like ——— me: i love myself i’m such a bitch // me: i hate myself i’m such a bitch. because one day she’ll be like “oh my god you’re my best friend!!!!!” then they’ll do her shady and she’ll be like “new phone who dis?” like do her dirty and she’ll get angry real quick. which is bad because it’ll trigger her anxiety. but yayayayayayayayyyyy. she’s the type to be sippin’ tea with her pinky finger up. she is the “is it bad that i secretly want to be hit by a car all the time” but also the “gotta better myself, my body, my skin and my bank account” type in one. she has a very clean exterior. although she outcast herself a lot. she does care about her appearance. (i.e. she has a sense of fashion.) she really likes to read and learn. so, you can always catch her doing something of the sort. talk to her about flowers or coffee and she gotchu. overall, stryder is pretty wishy washy. it all depends on her mood. she’s kind of a wallflower. isn’t exactly the most popular baby. but that’s by choice, not by force.

when it comes to FRIENDS stryder can always use some of 'em. she possess the qualities of a good friend loyal, honest, trustworthy. however, she can be quite obstinate. which might be a reason why she might not have as many friends as she would like. once her mind is set to think a certain way it’s hard to persuade her to believe otherwise. she’s the type of friend to listen to your problems, but be prepared to listen to her opinions – all of them. she’s also the type to put a friend in check when they need it. she thinks of it as trying to convince them to see the bigger picture. first impressions is something she might not be very good at. while she isn’t exactly the definition of rude, she tends to not filter then things she says. overall, i would say that she might just need a handful of friends and just a whole bunch of acquaintances.

i’m pretty sure stryder doesn’t think she has is ENEMIES. but, i could obviously understand why a girl like her would have any. she tends to be very outspoken and although she doesn’t mean to insult anyone or come off rude, she can’t help it. so, there’s always that. stryder is the type to hold grudges. (this is mostly because of her mother — trust issues man) she thinks once you fuck her over, then inevitably, you’re gonna do it again. basically, if you lose her trust everything you had, despite how far back your past goes, she isn’t going to trust you fully again. so if there was any type of fall out at all, stryder is gonna be pissed 5ever. but if in some point in time where she had to chose between her life and saving another’s, she’d save them before herself. stryder’s a good person guy’s. she has good morals. they’re just messed up in her black hole of thoughts. enemies? *grabby hands*

alright, so stryder and LOVERS. i have a feeling she’s dabbled in the dating world. she’s had a few boyfriends, dates, etc. but most likely nothing LONG TERM. possibly because she doesn’t see the point unless it’s for marriage. just like her mom and dad (lol troll.) she has the independent woman facade going on right now. which makes her seem like she doesn’t want anyone. but deep down she’s a hopeless romantic. this girl would love to be loved. and she truly needs it. most of the time she makes herself the outcast. this girl is completely oblivious to anyone having a crush on her. assuming friendship automatically. she’s probably read tons of books about love and fluffy shit like that. so she has high expectations when it comes to relationships. so someone rlly needs to come here and treat this girl right.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

FRIENDS

best friend — someone who will always be there for her. the person she feels most comfortable with. // m, f, or nb

partner in crime — they may not be the most reliable person like her best friend. but definitely someone she can get turnt tf up with. // m, f, or nb

childhood friend(s) — her first friend(s)! the one(s) she’s known since birth. she will never switch up on the real ones. (or so u think...) // m, f, or nb

ENEMIES

rivals — someone who hates her and some she hates too. maybe they just don’t get along yo. it happens // m, f, or nb

old bully — maybe somebody who bullied her or someone she might have bullied? bc honestly, if she bullied someone it would’ve been a joke. // m, f, or nb

old flame that didn’t end well — this is someone she used to date. maybe they wanted it to go further than just a date. but she ended up cutting ties with them. now it’s just made awk. // m, f, or nb

LOVERS

hate/love — just ‘cause these are my favorites. just little bickering. maybe they’re too much alike or just not a like at all. // m, f, or nb

old flame that ended well — the classic, exes that ended on good terms. they don’t hate each other at all. are actually still on really good terms. and possibly still have lingering feelings.  // m, f, or nb

currently dating — going on dates and what not. having a good time. who knows where this could go.  // m, f, or nb

MISCELLANEOUS

☪ overall, this bitch is flippy floppy. she’s loyal. quiet, but has a lot of opinions. intelligent, but sometimes stand-off-ish. she’s a bit of a feminist. trusts no bitch. but if you’re her friend, she’s chill AF. but really — she just doesn’t know how to process her good thoughts into words. she’s a barista and florist. she’s independent, hardworking, and determined. my muse for her is michelle (spider man homecoming) & margo roth spiegelman (paper towns). she’s a bit sketch when it comes to making new friends. since she’s a bit of a loner. and she’s super family oriented. despite her being absolutely oblivious to the fact that her mom cheated on her “dad” with her bio dad. anyways, give her girl scout cookies and she’ll love you til the end of time. overall, she’s not as lame as she portrays herself to be and is actually a pretty rad chick.

wEW this got waaaaaay longer than i expected it to be. anywho, if you actually read all this i love you and i cherish you hella. if you just skimmed, i would too. i would really love to plot with everyone. so just slide into my dms and we can get things started!! but okay, so, now imma go touch up my other intros. hope u don’t hate me after this long ass essay lmao. luv u *blows a kiss*