#din djarin hc

[la-lunaluna]

evening reblog :)

hello! I love your writings style so much 🥺 can please request a one shot? I dont know if you do it, but I've never seen anywhere else a story with Din Djarin (my fav pedro character) with a male reader, so I was wondering, could you please make a one shot with din x male reader, please? I dont really mind the plot, I just would like something soft and hearth warming (it can be nsfw too, I dont mind)

thank you so much 💛

Windows of the Soul (Din Djarin x M!Character)

Rating: 14+

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: none

Author comments: hello, anon! I thought about this plot for a while, and when you requested that, I thought it could match what you want, so here I am with this fluff Din. I hope you like it, and thank you so so much for loving my writing! You don't have any idea how reading this made my day! Thank you, honestly.

People use to say eyes are windows of the soul, the mirror of the soul, and perhaps it's because of that no one has ever give him love or attention. If eyes are windows of the soul and reflect what we are from the inside, that might be the reason which he always was shy, uninteresting. What people see when they look at him is just a helmet, his eyes from behind could be empty, lost, shyness because that was what his eyes used to be. It never shined for anything, they never focused on anyone, they never dazzled.

His eyes almost had never seen anything at all.

He lived behind his helmet since the day he was rescued by the Mandalorians and since then, that was his home. A home of intense sounds, touches, and scents, but never of clarity. His childhood was dark, as his teenagehood was.

His name was Din Djarin, he was twenty years old and he was a Mandalorian. He grew up like this, but he missed his parents, dead for so long. His mother almost got crazy when she found out their planet was under attack, she was lucky she had his father by her side and he stood her still in her weak moments. He couldn’t have asked to be born into a better family, he owed them a lot.

However, Din Djarin had lost his parents and got rescued by the Mandalorians, becoming one of them and devoted to them. Besides that, he had a life like a normal kid. He never could play like the other non-Mandalorian kids, but he had many memories and good remembrances from those first years with the creed. The next years, on the contrary, were a nightmare. As soon as he began training fighting techniques, everything changed. Those how didn't discriminate against him, helped him a lot, besides knowing Mandalorians were great warriors.

When he joined the Guild, he was already totally used to that. When experient warriors didn’t take advantage of him for being a beginner, they found a way to steal his rewards or something like that. Until being arrested to die in an ambush, literally, it had already happened. But he could say he was grateful for that.

It was a winter day and it had snowed the night before, so the ground was damp. After Din learned better to walk around alone, especially after adapting to his first hunts, he never needed the support of other Mandalorians. In fact, he concluded he didn’t need anyone else to help him, but that day he did. Landing his ship on a new and unknown planet, he was assaulted and cornered in an ambush. The area was deserted and he thought he was completely in trouble. He was wrong. Two men, one of them with an eye patch and the largest with an immense scar, cornered him, lifted him off the ground, and trapping him. Luckily, he wasn’t killed, he was just arrested, and then, he couldn’t avoid the looting of his ship, and they left. Lucky for him, they didn't know how valuable his armor could be. Despiting his pride, all he could do was asking for help. He screamed for about ten, or fifteen minutes, he never knew how much. It was so cold and the pains under his armor were so much that he gave up afterward. After a while, a sequence of quick steps was heard, accompanied by a panting and desperate breath. Din didn’t know who could be, It was not known who he was, nor if the person would help him, but he couldn’t miss the opportunity. He shouted, asked for help, and luckily, the person helped him. The men, sent from the heavens, released him from his bonds and helped Din to stand on his feet again. Then he fixed his askew helmet.

“Are you okay?” It was a young man. 

“I’ll be okay.” The young man deduced from Din’s voice that he was the same age as him. Din took a long break, it was strange to talk with somebody after so much time traveling alone. “And you, are you okay? You seemed... scared.”

“It’s already the second time this week I need to run away from hunters, you know.” Din didn’t need his temperature view to know the young man had blushed. Mando didn’t know, he was never the prey until that time. 

“It’s okay. I can help you the next time since you saved me.” Din replied, but it was difficult to express himself.

The Mandalorian heard a loud breath coming from him as if he had smothered a chuckle. Din’s armor was a little sticky and dirty.

"I'm sorry, you must have gotten dirty all over yourself to help me," he said, facing the embarrassing moment.

“It’s my turn to say that everything is fine, the important thing is that you won’t be there all day.” He smiled, making Din smile back. Luckily for him, it wasn’t possible to see through the helmet.

Din started walking and realized how painful was to walk, his leg hurt, his muscles failed and his leg failed when he walked again. The young man helped him and Din soon realized that he needed to seek him out for support. As soon as his gloved fingers wrapped around his arm, it was his turn to blush. Although he was muffled, Din could feel how warm his skin was, as if he had just sunbathed on a summer afternoon. The man put him inside the ship, said goodbye, and went on his way.

It had been five years since that day. Time really goes by incredibly fast. Din remembered it as if it were today... Five years since he had known that young man, his best friend, his confidant, his safe haven, his love. He taught Din to see the world and he, finally, could see that he didn't need to see with his own eyes to look at things. It was okay to be a Mandalorian and see things through a helmet visor.

He taught him about what was most important to see.

After that day, Din Djarin and he met several times. Although he had left, he returned next, afraid that his leg injury was very serious. In the end, he stayed to help, sharing their loneliness with each other. He, like Din, was a shy, closed person, with few people to believe in and who only opened himself up to those he trusted the most. Maybe that's why they got close to each other. He and Din met, got closer, started to become accomplices to each other, and in a short time we were already best friends. Din’s first best friend.

Din had never known anything about love, he had never been an attractive or flashy person, and so no one ever fell in love with him, in the same way, he never allowed himself to fall in love with anyone. Maybe that's why Din Djarin couldn't understand what was going on inside him. Din couldn't be without his company, he needed to talk to him, share things with him... When he was away from him, he felt uncomfortable and incomplete. Well, they say that love is blind, and Din finally understood this was true, because, without realizing it, love caught him. Without meeting the young man’s eyes directly and without wanting anything in return, except for his attention, Din Djarin fell in love.

He fell in love with his only and best friend.

- 

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[ddejavvu]

Mandalorian and Jedi!Reader, maybe where Mando tries to bring reader in for a bounty some ex imperial put on her head and he ends up having a MASSIVE crush on her instead

Soft Din has my heart 🫶🏻

"Can you stop that?" Din throws a scathing look over his shoulder where you're occupying Grogu in a rear seat of the unmarked freighter he's piloting. This job wasn't an easy one; Jedi aren't often willing to be tracked, but now that he's got you, he needs to deliver you without arousing any suspicion, which a shiny new ship is not useful for So, despite the smell of livestock that lingers in the walls of the ship, you're all piled into its boring, beige cockpit.

"What, making him laugh?" You scoff at Din, fingers still carefully poking and prodding at the baby's sides where he squeals with laughter, "It's called happiness, Mando. You should try it sometime."

"He's little," Din reaches out to scoop Grogu into his grip, tugging him away from you, "You're gonna hurt him. You're supposed to be a bounty, not the entertainment."

"Have you forgotten he and I were raised in the same temple?" You reach for Grogu who's staring pleadingly at you over Din's shoulder, one of his little hands outstretched, "I used to feed him mashed meilooruns."

"And now you occupy your time by liberating imperial cruisers of their fuel."

"Can't chase me if the tank is empty." You shrug, "Hey, Grogu, honey, watch this!"

You use the Force to snag Din's blaster out of its holster, and when he grabs for it, you use your other hand to lift Grogu over his shoulder and back into your lap.

"See? Stealing is easy and fun," You grin at the expressionless beskar mask staring your way, and Grogu giggles in delight where he's back in your lap.

"Stealing gets a bounty placed on your head. I'll be sure to buy some mashed meilooruns for the kid with the credits you'll get me."

"Right," You scoff, "You're gonna show up to meet this imperial goon squad, you're gonna hand me over, and they're just gonna let you waltz out of there fifty-thousand credits richer despite having a force-sensitive child in your possession?"

Din's leather glove creaks as he tightens his hold on the controls.

"Face it, buckethead, the only way you're getting those credits is if I help you. We'll fake 'em out, you keep my saber and toss it to me after they pay you. Then I'll chop 'em up and we can get outta there before they get their hands on Grogu."

Prolonged silence seems to be all that Din can offer in your presence aside from stinging quips, but he hears Grogu's babbling giggle break the tension where you've tapped a finger at his button nose. The sound eases some of the weary tension that's been on Din's shoulders since the second he'd made a deal with Imperials, and he's glad he has his helmet on to prevent you from seeing the way that the annoyance in his face softens.

"Fine. But there's no way you're coming with us afterwards. I'm dumping you on the first stable planet we come across, and you're not getting any of the credits."

"Poor Mando," You croon to Grogu, "Ahsoka didn't teach him about projecting his feelings, did she?"

Grogu rambles back to you in some unknown attempt at language, and before Din can ask what 'projecting' means, you're grinning up at him.

"You've got a deal, Mando; no money, no free rides around the galaxy. Just keep getting soft under that bucket of yours, and we'll figure out a better plan on the way out."

[thefrogdalorian]

I love how Din and Cobb's first encounter is clearly supposed to be a tense standoff between two space cowboys because there's only meant to be room for one of them in this town, so we as the audience are meant to be on the edge of our seats, worried for Din and wondering who's going to shoot first... but instead everyone collectively decided that moment was full of homosexual tension and they should just kiss instead.

[papurgaatika]

Papaya’s Official Pedro Character Dick List

This started as me trying to just list them in biggest to smallest dick order, but i got carried away so now it’s that but with a few fleeting (horny) thoughts. Enjoy whores. Xoxo

1. Joel

Horse cock, duh

"Just the tip baby" is a line he’s ALWAYS using

Y’know that line about how he never actually went to university to study? That’s bc he was def fucking college girls and lord was he the talk of the town

If you could sneak Joel “big dick” Miller into your sorority house you were a legend.

Yes this might just be me being self gratuitous

2. Frankie Morales

Big and thick

Shy about it but too focused on pussy to care

Can get off just from eating you out, is extremely proud of that because it means he can just stay between your legs for however long he wants

3. Marcus Acacius

Roman army general who comes back aching after months of war

Will fuck you until you’re dizzy bc you can practically feel him in your stomach

Breeding kink galore, wants to see you round with his kids over and over

4. Javier Peña

He cant be that full of himself without having a pretty dick

And he is so pretty, maybe not that thick but he is big regardless

Loves to press against the top of your pelvis to make you feel him a little more if he shifts his hips up

5. Dave York

Look at him. I know you’ve seen his bulge dont lie to me you heathen.

Will trace a knife over your skin while he’s pushing into you to keep you still

Wears a cock ring to keep himself from cumming until you’re absolutely begging for it

6. Oberyn Martell

Royal cock. That’s all i have to say

Look. he is canonically a slut, there has to be good dick

Not a vers, but will switch occasionally if he’s feeling like he wants change.

Jerks off while you watch just to tease you

7. Pero Tovar

There’s something about these dirty sword-wielding men that screams BDE

Have i seen this movie? No. do i know that he’s jerking himself off and not bothering to be quiet about it even when he’s out on missions? Yeah. yeah i do.

He’ll bite and mark you, but will kiss them better afterwards

8. Din Djarin

Above average, but not too big, and he likes it like that

Def a grower, which makes it irritating when you tease him while he’s in the armor

Hates having to adjust while he’s on missions but you make it impossible

Missionary STANNNN, loves to have his forehead pressed against yours

9. Javi Gutierrez

Pleasure dom 100%

Just average length and girth, but he KNOWS how to use it, and use it well

Will slide just the tip in and make you cockwarm him laying like that until he makes you cum at least twice

10. Jack “whiskey” Daniels

This fucking asshole (i love him)

Ties you up with his lasso

Just smaller than average, but claims he’d get too distracted otherwise

Magic fingers. 100% and he knows it too.

11. Ezra

FREAK. He might be the freakiest one here if i speak honestly.

Doesn’t care that he doesn’t have a huge dick, says he can make you feel better than anyone with a massive shlong can (my words, not his, he’s too eloquent)

Into fisting and coos at you about how he can split you open on his hand and you’ll still ask for more

12. Silva

Bottom!

Not that he needs a small dick to be a bottom, but he just prefers it

Likes to grind against the sheets to get stimulation while he’s face down

13. Marcus pike

Cutie pie with a cute dick

I dont remember who it was but someone on here wrote soft!dom marcus so well and it makes me crazy

Overstimulates you while you ride him

14. Max Phillips

This is to knock this asshole down a notch

Endless stamina (vampire) so it doesn’t really matter

Super into slipping a finger inside while he’s fucking you

Also will make you eat his ass

15. Dieter Bravo

He has a small dick and dare i speak my truth when i say it’s hot???

He loves it, he doesnt need to be huge to feel good.

This man is a vers and a switch. Power bottoming for DAYS or being a bratty top. He has the best of everything.

Degradation kink GALORE!! If you call his dick small condescendingly he might cum immediately

[corellianhounds]

Some headcanons for Mando:

Anything he uses to shower or wash his clothes with is unscented. Those scent-neutralizer dryer sheets keep his clothes from smelling like anything that can be detected while he’s on a hunt. Very few species are exempt from being unable to detect him

He keeps a clean ship and a strict schedule. He’s been self-sufficient and on his own for long enough he knows how to cook and take care of himself. Keeping your tools, gear, weapons, armor, and ship in clean, efficient working order means you’re less likely to have to spend time fixing one of them when it breaks from your lack of routine maintenance, and his body is just another tool in his arsenal; sleep, food, necessary medical care, staying limber and getting vitamin D at some point all go a long way towards ensuring he can last longer in the field. You can’t run something ragged every day and expect for that to be sustainable.

That also means he’s well-equipped to handle long stints without different necessities when needed from time to time; you can push yourself pretty far when you’re already in prime condition.

Wilderness survival skills were some of the first things he learned while being brought up by the Mandalorians. Being aware of your surroundings, setting up and breaking down camp, foraging and hunting for food, building impromptu shelters, purifying water, navigating and finding your way, having a variety of general and specific medical knowledge— All of those skills are building blocks for self-sufficiency. You never know when you’re going to be alone or thrust into survival scenarios, so it pays to be prepared.

That also means he’s capable of stomaching a wide variety of what some might consider inedible. Beggars can’t be choosers, and it’s considered very rude to decline someone’s offer of food or hospitality so in any scenario where food is in short supply and/or it’s been offered to him, he’s taking it. As long as it’s something he knows humans can digest, he’s open to whatever cultural or regional dishes his travels have to offer, and he’ll muscle through the less pleasant tastes or textures of food he’s had to make do with when he didn’t have other options.

He does know how to make food taste good, but that more often than not requires more spices and ingredients and hardware than he can afford or spare the room for, so he makes do without. Once the kid comes along he branches out a bit more to make sure he gets some variety.

Along the lines of self-sufficiency and independence, he has a lot of general repair skills: you may not always have somebody who can fix things for you, and he obviously isn’t going to pay somebody else to do something he’s capable of learning, except for when he’s short on time or resources. We see him working on the interior circuitry of his armor in the second episode. He knows how to bypass and pick locks. He has the electrical, mechanical, and structural know-how to fix his ship and would know how to weld and use a torch cutter and a variety of other tools, but it also means he’d know how to sew and mend his clothes. Soft goods are just as necessary as hardware.

Injuries where he genuinely needs professional medical care are few and far in between partially because he’s very good at what he does, and partially out of necessity. Though it is by choice, him tending to his own wounds may not necessarily be because he is neglectful or prideful or has a penchant for pain; medcenters cost money, and submitting to that care means he is vulnerable and at risk of somebody breaking his creed by force, or doing more damage when he can’t fight back. It’s why he likely refuses anesthesia or anything that will put him under and make him unaware of what’s happening while he’s asleep. Either he will find somebody he’s close to to help him, or he will find a way to muscle through self-administered medical care yet again, or he will die from his injuries (which means he will have gone down because of a fight)

Though he has a few physical reference materials and logs he’s written down important details in, a vast majority of his knowledge concerning trade routes, ballistics, geography, maps, various customs and cultures and languages, Guild bylaws— anything he could possibly need to know for a hunt— is committed to memory. He travels light, and the Mandalorians have an oral history more than a written one; belongings and archives can be destroyed, but their people live on and carry the knowledge that’s been passed down through centuries. It just makes more sense to him to commit everything to memory.

That being said, he does a significant amount of research before each hunt anyway, though the bulk of it is centered around the target themselves. Having all of your prep work done means the acquisition itself will go smoother.

He’s mathematically sharp: engine repair, manual piloting, vector calculus, electrical work, ballistics, basic engineering, weapons maintenance, financial management, and navigation by maps or by stars take a lot of mental acuity to understand and apply as quickly as he usually has to use them.

He’s not going to back down from others who purposefully encroach on his personal space, but he dislikes being in close proximity to strangers for extended periods of time. So much of his life is spent evading threats and fighting off challengers it’s hard to trust anybody to be that close. It’s not an aversion so much as it is an irritation that makes him tense. When you’re always looking over your shoulder, it’s just reflex to act defensively.

He doesn’t drink alcohol or caf unless he has sufficient time and he’s secure in the Crest without worry of attack; both impede his marksmanship and reflexes, neither of which are things he can afford while he’s working, so it’s usually only when he’s traveling through space that he’ll indulge

He doesn’t sing, but once the kid comes along he’s found that it’s easier to get him to sleep when he hums as he holds him and walks around the cargo hold.

[noramsblog]

Dog

[softpascalito]

Presents - Pedro Pascal Characters Headcanons

Summary: Which presents do the Pedro boys give you for Christmas? I have some ideas.

Relationships: Joel Miller x Reader, Javier Peña x Reader, Dieter Bravo x Reader, Din Djarin x Reader Tags/Warnings: Non-explicit smut, Fluff, Headcanons

notes: some more headcanons for you darlings <3

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Joel Miller

Joel is actually surprisingly good at giving presents. He'll pay extra attention to what you're saying or what you may need in the weeks before Christmas.

During patrol, he keeps an eye out for your favorite foods and products, storing them away into his backpack to add them to the ever-growing list of presents for you.

He prefers giving to getting, even though he's always more than thankful when it comes to his own presents. But nothing beats the look his loved ones get in their eyes when they unwrap a present from him and it's just the perfect one, showing just how well Joel knows them.

Come Christmas Eve, there's at least half a dozen small packages waiting under the Christmas Tree for you. Joel loves to spoil you.

He gets creative as well, making use of his woodworking skill to add a few more personal gifts to the pile, carving you small figurines of your favorite animals.

Javier Peña

Javi gets lost at least three times while he visits the mall to go Christmas shopping. He does not like the over-crowded stores at all but he knows he needs to find something that let's you know just how much you mean to him.

When asked about his own wishes for Christmas, he only asked for a pack of Malboros (needless to say, he gets a few packs AND a proper present).

He's about to pick out a frangrance that seems like you'd like it when he runs into Connie. She instantly sees that he looks like a fucking lost puppy in between all the products and options and takes pity.

She helps him pick out a few things you'll actually like and even reminds him to grab some wrapping paper. She also promises to not tell you about her helping out a little bit.

You're blown away by the gifts he picked for you, trying not to show how surprised you are he actually knew what to pick.

At the DEA's Christmas Party, you run into Connie. She just winks when you ask her if she'd been helping Javi. You both never tell him.

Dieter Bravo

Dieter thinks about whether or not to get you drugs (he doesn't).

He loves giving gifts that he knows will benefit him as much as they do you- something for your shared apartment or something for you to wear.

There's a cozy sweater and a hat from your favorite brand under the Christmas Tree, but there is also some more ... naughty clothing.

You like dressing up a little for Dieter, teasing him more than once throughout Christmas-time by suggesting to get one of those little red and white outfits that would perfectly highlight your figure.

He gets you a few, unable to decide on just one when he begins to imagine how good you'd look in them.

Dieter and you both name the white lace one as your favorite, detailed with little, glittering snowflakes all over the fabric.

Needless to say, the rest of the presents dont get unwrapped until the second day of Christmas.

Din Djarin

Din is absolutely lost when it comes to presents. The two of you are inseperable, which doesn't really make secretly buying something easier.

The opportunity presents itself when you decide to shop for some new clothes and he gets a little while to himself.

A Mandalorian wandering around the aroma and lotion shop turns heads but Din can't bring himself to care. He tries a few items, holding them below his helmet so that he can take a whiff.

He settles on a set of lotions and creams that smell refreshing, a note of pine in them. You always prefer the wooded planets to the desert ones so he hopes that it's a safe pick.

You love it more than he expects - and he does too. For the next few weeks, his entire ship seems to smell like the store did, fresh and gentle, and you seem surrounded by the scents he got you. It begins to smell like home.

He insists, as soon as you have used the bottles up, to go back and get you new ones, stocking up on the lotions and soaps and oils. If you ever leave, he tells himself, he'll at least remember the smell.

(You never leave).

[depressed-alone]

I just think that:

=

[novaae]

i just think it would be really fucking funny to see din react to how grogu speaks,,,,, like grogu transitions from cute baby coos to straight up yoda speak

grogu: nice day, this is.

din, hearing his son speak for the first time: help what

.

grogu, to someone: being a bitch, you are

din: ??????

[adakechi]

just saw an anti-dinbo post that said “THE STRAIGHTS LOST AGAIN” as if anyone who likes a mlw couple is straight 😭😭😭

im a nonbinary lesbian literally go fuck yourself

[darlingjmiller]

Ragnar, newly orphaned, taking the Creed (again) and watching Grogu get adopted/become an apprentice

[ddejavvu]

grumpy beefy mando falling for soft!reader in her “grandma era” - all she wants to do is crochet, bake and frolic around the galaxy with mando and grogu 🫶🏽

"He doesn't like hats."

You glance up at Din from where you're testing a length of crocheted stitches beneath Grogu's chin, ensuring that the hat inspired by the local flora of the forest planet you've found shelter on won't fall off if he gets too rigorous in his play.

Grogu coos beneath the flower hat, but whether it's in agreement or protest you can't tell.

"He likes this one," You decide, when the little green terror before you doesn't fight as you maneuver his ears through their designated slots, "And he doesn't have to wear it if he doesn't want to."

Your fingers slip the little white button through the slot you've left in the band, and the hat is secured around Grogu's chin; the cutest little flower you ever did see.

"Oh, honey," You gush, scooping the child up and tucking him into your arms, "You wanna see your hat? C'mere, let's look."

You crouch in front of the tree stump that Din has settled on, holding Grogu up to the man's beskar chest plate. It's freshly polished, but not completely reflective, so at the right angle, Grogu catches a blurry, slightly distorted version of himself in a very pink hat.

His legs are still too small to kick in excitement, but his arms pick up the slack, flapping about while copious amounts of baby babble streams from his mouth. Evidently he's pleased with your handiwork.

Din stays silent while he offers his armor up for Grogu's viewing pleasure, but the child's hands soon find the soft strap beneath his chin and tug.

"I told you he didn't like hats..." Din murmurs, not to be cruel, but to fill empty space in the air when your shoulders deflate slightly.

"I thought he'd like it if it was softer," You hum sadly, helping Grogu take the button out of its clasp so that he can tug the hat off of his head, "I just figured he didn't like the helmet you gave him because it was uncomfortable."

As soon as you've freed Grogu from the confines of his flowery prison his hands slap against the shiny metal of Din's armor. He takes the child out of your hands but Grogu keeps his hat tightly clutched in his fist, and, with valiant effort, pushes the hat into Din's helmet, insistently cooing something that sounds suspiciously like buir.

Your giddiness returns, and you circle Din like a hawk, "Oh, you want your buir to wear it? Let's see," Amidst Din's protests you balance the too-small cap on his helmet, and he stills if only to save the hat from slipping and dying a muddy death on the ground below.

"It doesn't fit me." He grumbles, body stiff as he keeps it balanced on his head. Grogu seems pleased with his buir's new headpiece, squealing and showing off his newly-emerged teeth in a grin.

"I'll make you a matching one!" You declare, snatching the hat off of his helmet to give him the freedom of movement again, "Grogu, baby, what color should Din's be?"

"Bah!" Grogu decides, and your steps still where you're racing back towards your shelter.

"Uh... how about purple?" You suggest, and another resounding 'Bah.' is all the encouragement you need.

[thefrogdalorian]

I know the N-1 has received a pretty mixed reception since Din acquired it in TBOBF. I get the complaints that it's too small and doesn't feel like a home compared to the Razor Crest, but I personally love the design and how it shows off his piloting abilities.

And it gave us this angle...

*Ahem* ANYWAY...

After rewatching The Phantom Menace today, I couldn't help but think that a great replacement ship was there in Episode I the whole time! It has the homeliness of the Razor Crest and the sleekness/manoeuvrability of the N-1...

The Naboo Royal Starship!!!

Seriously look at that thing, it's beautiful. All shiny and with a similar design to the N-1.

Hear me out...

It has a huge cockpit. Perfect for plenty of father-son bonding activities and if Din needs some backup on a particularly tough mission.

Here are the blueprints, LOOK AT HOW MUCH SPACE IT HAS!!!

I'm noticing a table. Royal quarters... with a bunk. I mean, he probably wouldn't need most of the droid holds but if R5 sticks around, who knows!

It would be like an entire home on the go! And so graceful.... so slick...

I am obsessed with this ship... practical, stylish and shiny...

Much like the man himself....

Anyway, according to Wookieepedia, Vader eventually came into possession of the ship a few decades after the Invasion of Naboo. Which means it could have been out there at the same time as Din needed a new ship.

I think this would have been such a cool compromise, the best of both worlds if you like. A shiny new ship which also functions as a home... we could have had it all.

[99tech99]

dude you know what would be hilarious?? if grogu and ahsoka were trolling mando about feeling each others’ thoughts bc they were friends in the temple back in the day.

just try to tell me teenage ahsoka would not have absolutely MELTED at grogu’s adorableness. she would have volunteered to babysit him as often as she could. they established some sort of blinking morse code to communicate.

maybe ahsoka gave grogu his first ball. and then mace or some other stupid counsel member took it away bc ya know#noattachments but ahsoka stole it back and let him play with it when they were together.

and when they were reunited, grogu told her how much mando means to him and he doesnt want to be a jedi and how lost and scared and alone he would be without him. and after the shitshow also known as sabine, ahsoka agrees she wont train him but still wants to give him the chance to become a jedi so she tells them to go to tython.

(that started out as funny thoughts then got bittersweet)

[tickle-bugs]

hello! if you’re still writing for the mandalorian, could u do lee!din and ler!cara with the dialogue “can you stop laughing? i’m trying to talk to you. how rude!” and “was that a snort?” (if u don’t want to use both dialogues that’s perfectly fine, u can choose whichever u prefer 🙃)

If Only For a Moment

anon: for the writing requests, if ur still into the mandalorian, if u don’t mind could u do lee!din and ler!cara with the dialogue “wow. you are super ticklish.” please?

Cara’s actor can eat my boot and choke she’s a terrible person BUT I am soft for the friendship these two could’ve had and thus I am taking full custody of Cara. Enjoy!! My first mando fic somehow. AU where they stay on Sorgan for a while/come back to Sorgan to rest.

“Hey.” Cara drops heavily onto the bench beside Din. He makes a soft noise to acknowledge her but doesn’t turn. 

Sorgan had set a sort of peace into his bones that he wasn’t sure how to handle. He’s afraid of handling it, truly. Peace isn’t a luxury because you have to earn it--it’s a luxury because it makes you slow. It makes you take survival for granted. You earn peace when you no longer need to survive. 

But sitting here on this ridge, overlooking a village finally at peace…it clashes against everything he knows to be true. Their huts are still smoldering in places. The villagers have built barricades around some of the deeper gouges in the earth and done their best to fill them with water. Some of the children have already found their way into the shallower pits to play with the mud and frogs. Din can hear their laughter from up here, wavelengths dancing across the right side of his visor display. 

“You gonna sit out here all day?” Cara’s eyes rest heavy on the side of his face. 

“Just keeping an eye on things.” His gaze dips towards the treeline. It’s clear. The only heat signatures there are creatures returning to their natural home. Everything is fine. It has been. But he knows that never lasts. 

“You’ve been keeping an eye on things for a few days. You’ve earned a break.” She claps him on the shoulder once, brief and firm. 

A loud shriek startles them and they both tense with the instinct to rise, but they both know the voices of the village children by now. A pack of them chase each other around a few specific huts--their homes, probably--making blaster noises and shouts that carry on the wind. They watch the grimness of war become a thing of innocence in their hands. 

“Were you ever like that?” Cara points. 

“Like what?” He follows her finger, then squints back at her. “A child?”

She chuckles at him, but her smile stays earnest. 

“Yeah. Did you ever get to be a child?” She tilts her head a bit. Din’s breath catches. They’d talked about personal matters before, but never like this. Their routine was showing their hand, constantly reassuring each other that their mutual interest in saving the galaxy was still mutual. It was always a transaction, never…interest. Is she baiting him in some way? Possibly trying to leech some sort of future blackmail material? Cara lacks that kind of tact from what he can tell, but one can never be too careful. Which opens up more questions still, each unfolding upon and into each other in endless fractals. One question in particular peers up at him beneath the layers, utterly unsettling. 

Why do you care?

“Everyone’s a child at some point. That’s the order of things.” He drops his gaze to the ground. Thinking too much will cost him. He knows that. 

“Now we both know that’s not true, Mando.” She shifts her weight on the bench and it brings them closer together. Something solemn rests its hands on both of their shoulders, seeping into the collective lifetimes of scars and battered muscle between them. He knows that he’s feeding it, this thing, and it turns his gut with unease. 

“Din,” he says quickly, before he can stop himself. He can hear Cara’s confusion without needing to see it. 

“My name. It’s Din.”

“It suits you.” She bumps their shoulders together. He looks at her and allows a smile. 

Another shriek, shriller this time, sends them both jumping to their feet. One of the village boys had been pounced on by the other children, sending a knot of screeching limbs rolling down the hillside. Panic leaps into Din’s throat. He starts making his way towards the edge of the ridge. 

“Din, it’s okay . It’s just--they’re playing. It’s fine.” Cara grabs his shoulder. He lets her lead him back to the bench but his eyes never leave the children. A young boy collapses under the weight of his friends and shouts, piercing through the air. Din flinches. Laughter bursts up from their chaotic little pile but the shrillness still raises his hackles. 

“They’re tickling each other, I think. Explains the screaming. Not sure how much more of that I can take, though.” Cara chuckles and looks to Din as if he’d be in on whatever she’s saying. He stares blankly at her. 

She extends her hands to him, as if asking for something. He doesn’t do what she wants, mostly because he can’t for the life of him grasp what she wants. She takes his wrists and pulls his hands towards her. She peels off his gloves, minding the beskar as if it were glass, and cradles his hands in her own for a moment. Looking up at him apprehensively, she trails her calloused fingertips over his palms, his fingers, even down to his pulse point on his wrist. It’s…soothing in a way, but he senses from the wrinkle between her brow that he’s not doing this right, somehow. 

“I…don’t have much feeling in my hands anymore.” He furrows his brow. Cara makes a pitying noise that he decidedly doesn’t like. He resists the urge to immediately pull his gloves back on. Obviously he didn’t respond the way she wanted. 

“Shame.” She shrugs. That solemn thing between them starts to turn the shade of melancholy. They have enough of that between them, Din thinks. He stares down at the rough canvas of his hands, then hers. 

“What is it supposed to feel like?” He mimics what she did, tracing his fingers over his own palms. It’s different in a way he can’t quite categorize. Cara blinks with something like disbelief and awe--he really wishes people would stop looking at him that way. 

“Alright, well. Don’t kill me, okay?” A hint of an impish smile creeps onto her face. She scoots slightly closer on the bench. 

“Why would I--” 

Din chokes on a high-pitched noise not unlike the ones ringing down from the hillside. Cara’s fingers gently ripple into the divots between the plates of beskar, finding seams of muscle in his sides that make his brain collapse into a heap of sparks. 

“What…is this?” He trembles but doesn’t move, just tries to process the sheer volume of stimuli racing through him all at once. Snickers escape without his permission and he hunches over to try and keep his every atom from spilling out into her hands. 

“Wow. You are super ticklish.” Cara laughs. Her fingers keep a rhythmic pace. 

“Say the word and I’ll stop.” Something concerned crosses her face before she can hide it from him. He wants to tell her it’s okay, or reassure her somehow that this is…a lot but okay--at least for now--but all he can do is rattle in place as if he’s about to launch into orbit. 

Her fingers migrate towards his stomach and his resolve cracks along with his voice. He giggles fervently past bitten lips and collapses into her hands. It’s not lightning, he knows lightning well, but this feeling moves like it. His body seems eager to disseminate it and lessen the impact, but unlike lightning, the electric bursts under his skin have no means of escape. Her hands are on his stomach but he feels the laughter in his veins. 

“C-Cara!” He grabs her wrists for something to hold onto. She swoops her fingers under his arms, tripping up his ribs like a ladder. He flails and nearly takes both of them off the bench. It’s worse, so much worse, and he fights the building urge to flee or mitigate the feeling somehow. It’s not harming him. It doesn’t remotely feel like it. He…trusts her. 

Until she gets under his arms and he cackles, that is. 

“Oh wow. Bad spot, huh?” She giggles with him, a sound he could never truly picture her making. Then again, he could never picture an existence like hers before this either. Certainly never like this. But here he was, soft where he swore he’d never be, melting in the hands of a shocktrooper no longer covered in blood. 

Cara does this thing with her fingers, like she’s fiddling with a stuck button for landing gear, and Din snorts. His entire body buckles and he clasps his hands over his helmet. As if it’ll help muffle him. 

“Did you just snort?” She presses in again and his head collides with her shoulder. He wheezes and it crackles into the air. More snorts filter out of him and his laughter bounces unexpectedly, responding to Cara’s hands like a fine-tuned weapon in the hands of a master. 

“Your ‘tough and mysterious’ act is going to work on me anymore. Just so you’re aware. I respect you, but this…your laugh is so cute, it’s sickening. I mean--” She pauses when Din flails again, sending her grabbing onto his thigh just to keep them both upright. He squeals and his leg twitches violently. She makes a noise of interest that makes his face burn beneath the helmet. 

“Can you stop laughing? I’m tryin’ to talk to you. Rude.” She squeezes his thigh again but this time she doesn’t stop. Din squeals again, much louder, and he collapses into the bench. A wave of desperate, garbled noises escape him before his laughter takes full flight. He shakes with the force of it. 

“I-I’m trying!” He wails. She helps him sit up with a laugh somehow more tickled than his.  

“Oh my god--Din, I’m kidding. It’s okay.” She grips his shoulders and shakes him a little. He nods a little dumbly, trying to remember what it felt like to have control of his limbs. 

“You still with us in there?” She taps his helmet. He swats her hand away.

“I think so. That was…something.” He nods. He finds that his smile won’t leave. It’s…nice. Cara pats his shoulder. He leans into it. 

“It’s not always so much. Sometimes it’s nice.” Cara hums thoughtfully, then gestures to her neck. “Can I show you? Here?” 

He regards her for a while, then nods. 

“Gently. Careful.” He warns, holding her wrists loosely. 

“I’m always careful,” Cara smirks. It would be terrifying if he didn’t already trust her so deeply. She tips his helmet up slowly, slowly, so much so that he almost wants to chide her for treating him so fragile. The low hums of the internal fan click and lose speed as warm air curls against the underside of his chin. His breath hitches when she lifts the helmet a little more, but it sinks lower again as she balances it against her knuckles. With her free hand, she curls her fingers beneath his chin with the lightest of touches. 

He dissolves into giggles easier than breathing, which does not come easy with Cara’s blunt fingernails dance against the scruff on the slope of his neck. Even as he scrunches to trap her fingers, the hand holding his helmet slightly aloft works to bolster the flow of breathy, muffled laughter seeping from the gap in the helmet. 

The sounds of war seem far away with the dragonflies fluttering in his chest. For the first time, Din allows it to remain that way.

@parkersaysthings tagging u bc you asked! hope u enjoy! <3

[noramsblog]

Babysitting