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isolaradiale · 4 years ago

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Lost in Space 28

Hello, Isolans! We have conducted an activity check for the month of January!

If your character isn’t on this list, make sure to check this page to see how many stars that character has earned this month! Stars can be used for purchases at the marketplace.

The blogs that were removed from the Isola Radiale masterlist are under the cut. Note that both blogs with broken links and deactivated accounts will be included both at the top of this list and in their proper categories.

If you were removed in error, please simply send a re-application message. Several different people work on the activity checks, so it’s possible there are mistakes! If this happens to you, you will be able to keep everything you previously had, you just may be placed in a different residence.

Our general activity rules regarding checks are as follows:

Make at least three in-character posts during a calendar month (for instance, if the activity check is for January, have three in-character posts between the 1st and 31st of January).

Only one drabble and/or meme response of 300+ words counts as activity.

One-liners or minis not tagged #isola mini also do not count.

Please Note: If you are removed during two consecutive activity checks, you will not be allowed to re-apply as that character for two calendar months.

Additionally, anyone removed during the activity check will have a 12-hour window from the time of posting to re-claim their character. Any character not reclaimed during that period will be open to the community at large.

Please send in your reapplications from the account of the character that was removed.

Broken URLs:

Michael Jon Carter (Booster Gold) (DC COMICS)

ADORNED BY CHI

Kelechi Okafor (HOUSE 120)

AMNESIA

Daniel (CONDO 449)

ANIMANIACS

Wakko Warner (APARTMENT 331)

APEX LEGENDS

Natalie Paquette (Wattson) (HOUSE 102)

ARKNIGHTS

Blaze (APARTMENT 350)

AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER

Toph Beifong (APARTMENT 336)

BAYONETTA

Bayonetta (HOUSE 144)

BLAZBLUE

Ragna the Bloodedge (Ragna's House [Archimedes])

CARDFIGHT!! VANGUARD

Toshiki Kai (Aichis House (COTES))

CASTLEVANIA

Richter Belmont (CONDO 429)

CRASH BANDICOOT

Dr. Neo Cortex (APARTMENT 308)

CRITICAL ROLE

Jester Lavorre (APARTMENT 337)

CRYPT OF THE NECRODANCER

Cadence (CONDO 410)

DARK SOULS

Gwyndolin (TOWNHOUSE 258)

DC COMICS

Michael Jon Carter (Booster Gold) (TOWNHOUSE 223) *BROKEN URL

DISNEY

Eugene Fitzherbert (Flynn Rider) (TOWNHOUSE 213)

DRAGON QUEST

Erik (CONDO 421)

EPIC TALES OF CAPTAIN UNDERPANTS, THE

Melvin Sneedly (TOWNHOUSE 221)

FATE

Angra Mainyu (Avenger) (CONDO 424)

Alter Ego (Ashiya Douman) (CONDO 442)

Assassin (Ryougi Shiki) (APARTMENT 307)

Caster (Prototype Merlin) (TOWNHOUSE 228)

Hakuno Kishinami (F) (TOWNHOUSE 217)

Ophelia Phamrsolone (CONDO 401)

Romani Archaman (Mashu's House [Archimedes])

Saber (Charlemagne) (HOUSE 138)

Saber (Mordred Pendragon) (CONDO 406)

FINAL FANTASY

Cloud Strife (TOWNHOUSE 225)

Ignis Scientia (TOWNHOUSE 222)

Warrior of Light (Summoner) (APARTMENT 334)

FIRE EMBLEM

Alm (CONDO 445)

Celica (TOWNHOUSE 226)

HOLLOW KNIGHT

Godseeker (HOUSE 141)

HOMESTUCK

Lanque Bombyx (TOWNHOUSE 222)

Tagora Gorjek (TOWNHOUSE 222)

IDENTITY V

Galatea (Sculptor) (HOUSE 121)

Joseph Desaulnier (Photographer) (APARTMENT 303)

JUJUTSU KAISEN

Satoru Gojo (HOUSE 137)

KIRBY

Magolor (APARTMENT 331)

LEGEND OF ZELDA

Terrako (TOWNHOUSE 213)

LETHAL LEAGUE BLAZE

Candyman (CONDO 411)

LIFE IS STRANGE

Chloe Price (HOUSE 104)

MAD RAT DEAD

Mad Rat & Heart (CONDO 447)

MAPLESTORY

Unukalhai (Runeblade PC) (CONDO 422)

MATO SEIHEI NO SLAVE

Shikoku (CONDO 449)

NIER

2B (HOUSE 103)

NO STRAIGHT ROADS

DJ Subatomic Supernova (APARTMENT 304)

ONE PIECE

Sabo (APARTMENT 333)

ONE PUNCH MAN

Tatsumaki (APARTMENT 338)

ORIGINAL CHARACTER

Stella "Lyra" Ptolemy (CONDO 440)

PERSONA

Goro Akechi (CONDO 401)

PINKY AND THE BRAIN

Pinky (HOUSE 141)

POKEMON

Mewtwo (APARTMENT 345)

PORTAL

GLaDOS (TOWNHOUSE 202)

RWBY

Adam Taurus (Adam's Manor [Cotes])

SHE-RA AND THE PRINCESSES OF POWER

Entrapta (APARTMENT 340)

SOUND HORIZON

Elisabeth von Wettin (CONDO 408)

STAR WARS

Din Djarin (CONDO 443)

Grogu (HOUSE 142)

STEVEN UNIVERSE

Steven Quartz Universe (HOUSE 115)

SUPERNATURAL

Castiel (HOUSE 117)

TEKKEN

Robert "Bob" Richards (TOWNHOUSE 214)

TIAN GUAN CI FU

Hua Cheng (HOUSE 135)

TOUHOU

Sumireko Usami (CONDO 448)

TSUBASA RESERVOIR CHRONICLE

Kurogane (APARTMENT 339)

TWISTED WONDERLAND

Jade Leech (TOWNHOUSE 210)

UNDERTALE

Sans (CONDO 447)

UTAWARERUMONO

Tokifusa (HOUSE 133)

#modnote #activity check #lost in space 28

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drawingdroid · 11 months ago

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Melting Point: Chapter I

A Sculptor Din Djarin x Art PhD Reader Series

Read Prologue

Chapter I: The Artist/Metallike

Summary: Your roommate drags you to an art opening and It'll turn out to be such an interesting night that will leave you dreaming of brown eyes.

Words: 1721

Warnings: This is a slow burn, you've been warned!; a lot of talking about Art and PhD life; Reader is not Grogu's nanny but this is very Grogucentric if that makes sense; And Reader is Din's employee too; Very grumpy and antisocial Mando; Grogu is human but the only thing described are his eyes; Reader appearance is left blank; Age gap of 10-15 years; Fluff fluff fluff

A/N: Hi! I'm sorry for taking forever to upload this after so much teasing! Everything was practically written until Chapter 4, but last month has been a disaster. Hopefully, I'll be able to be back at it now. Anyway, I hope you enjoy Reader and Din meeting with a very Pride and Prejudice vibe.

When you arrived, the place was cramped. Everyone fancied free drinks on a Friday night at Nevarro’s downtown, but this was… excessive for an art opening. After the awful day you’d had, you didn’t feel like squeezing yourself between strangers. You were just about to say to your roommate that you had thought better about it when you saw the poster in the window display of the local.

The Guild Gallery presents:

Mando

The Master of Beskar

15 unprecedented sculptures

Your jaw dropped immediately to the floor. You were so excited you had to grab your roommate’s arm to calm down.

“What’s the matter, sweetie?”

“You just dragged me to an exhibition of my favourite artist ever without knowing?” You were over the moon right now, Mando wasn’t an artist who used social media so it was never easy to come up with his next show. It was all part of the mysterious aura that was around him.

“Rumors say he is based in Nevarro.” One of your roommate’s friends severed, and your eyes sparkled in awestruck.

“Do you think he may come?” You were dying to ask him some questions, maybe even you could arrange an interview with him for your thesis work…

“He never shows up in his own exhibits, so I don’t think he will.” You were a bit disappointed, but it was the truth. No one knew his real name or face, only the generic pseudonym, and his breathtaking sculptures.

“Do you think he makes it in an entitled prick way? Like, to feed the mystery or something and sell more?” You looked at the boy furiously. You obviously didn’t know Mando personally, but you had extensively studied his artwork and could affirm you knew a bit about the psyche that hid behind his artwork.

“What if he’s just shy, or he doesn’t like the attention?” Your mental picture of Mando was the one of a person who struggled severely with emotion and used his sculpture as the only possible outcome. That was one of the reasons why his art moved you so deeply.

Your interlocutor didn’t have the opportunity to respond since it was your turn to enter the gallery. It was luxurious but not tacky, with a minimal interior design that gave the artwork the space to shine. You were mesmerized. Soon you grew apart from the group because they were more interested in the free booze while you admired each one of the pieces. Grabbing your tiny notebook from your purse, you annotated everything about the sculptures that resonated de most with you.

“Breathtaking, aren’t they?” A well-dressed, middle-aged man was standing next to you. He had an air of dignity in him, but also a pinch of mischief in his eyes that delatated his true character.

“They’re stunning.” You mumbled admiring the hard planes of the sculpture that was standing right in front of you. The same you had been observing for twenty minutes straight: a faceless warrior in a startling fighting pose.

“Mando always finds a way to surprise us.” Then, he extended his hand to you and you squeezed it gently. “Greef Karga, I’m the owner.” He clarified while shaking vigorously your smaller hand. You blushed violently, maybe he had mistaken your interest for being a potential customer? Nevertheless, you offered him a smile and your name too, always wanting to be polite.

“I’m actually a researcher on Mandalorian art, and I’ve been following Mando’s career for a while.”

“You’re talking to the man who sold his first artwork, sunshine.” He confessed as if he was telling you a secret. The desired effect was accomplished and your eyes were opened wide.

“Really? That’s…that’s…” Your words were betraying you and the man only smiled wider. Then you started a battle with your purse to find the wallet. “I…know he does like to keep his…privacy, but if he is ever interested in an interview I’ll…it will be really meaningful to my research.” You blurted giving him your business card. He observed it and repeated your name to himself.

“I’ll let him know darling.” He then put a friendly hand on your shoulder as a farewell when something heavy touched your foot, making you flinch. You looked to the floor: a metal ball had hit your foot. Looking confused at your surroundings, you crouched to grab the round object when its owner appeared.

“Oh hi, baby!” You cooed, your face brightening when your eyes found the tiny face of a toddler. “Is this yours?” They approached you a bit shyly, looking at you and the ball, as if weighing their options. The baby stared at you, blinking a few times, until they bent clumsily to grab it.

“Patu!” The little one said showing triumphantly the shiny object. The corner of your eyes squinted of the pure tenderness this creature provoked in you.

“Grogu, my little man!” Karaga called, to your surprise. You had to admit: you had forgotten about him for a little moment, but it was great that they knew each other. The toddler squeaked in delight, running to the man’s leg. He certainly looked amused with the encounter, so they were probably close-

“Ah!” The boy babbled cheerfully to you both, showing off his treasure again, and then started patting Karga’s leg.

“Your dad hasn’t got you dinner? Come here, let me grab you a sandwich.” The toddler sounded excited and made grabby hands to the older man to be picked up. Your eyes met with his as he observed you with curiosity. They were dark and huge, almost too big for the kid’s face. You gave him your brightest smile and he did the same in return.

“He looks sharp as a tack!” You praised, giggling a bit.

“You wouldn’t imagine.”

Both of you laughed together as Grogu started to explain something in incoherent baby language.

“Oh, so you are enjoying the Art Exhibition too? What’s your favourite piece? I see…” You pretended to understand his excited gestures as Karga started to walk to the catering table. “It’s clear you’re such a connoisseur, sir.”

“Could you hold him a moment? I’m making him a sandwich.” Karga’s question took you off-guard, but he didn’t wait for an answer as he placed the toddler in your chest Both of you studied each other's eyes for a moment. You could count the times you had held a little one with the fingers of a hand. But finally, he looked satisfied after scanning your face and squeaked happily, starting playing with your hair and jewellery, even mapping your cheeks and nose with his tiny hands. A warm feeling ignited inside your chest as you replied sweet nothings to his babbling.

“Grogu! Here you are!”

The three of you looked in the direction of the baritone voice who had just called the baby. Between the multitude, appeared a man who stood up amongst everyone. Though he was dressing casually, in full denim, his handsome face and broadness were so obvious. Your mouth went dry. Not only his physical appearance but his gait and the way he carried himself. You weren’t used to meeting men like that. He was borderline intimidating. His scowl while looking at the baby didn’t help with that. Was he angry that a stranger held the boy?

“Din! Good to see you, I thought your son would be hungry.” The gorgeous man huffed in response, looking at the sandwich Greef Karga had just prepared.

“The little womp-rat is always hungry,” he mumbled and started caressing the boy’s head, and the baby giggled. “I asked you to stay there.” He scolded, but the toddler just looked happy to see him again. Din sighed in resignation and finally, it looked like he noticed your presence for the first time. While you still had Grogu between your arms, he stared at you without a word, like you were a sculpture and not a person. You observed him back without shame and he tilted his head slightly while studying you. He looked stiff as a board and didn’t stop frowning all the time.

Weird.

Luckily, Karga spoke after the strange silence between you became too tense.

“Din, this is…” Karga started introducing you after clearing his throat, but then the little boy interrupted by babbling at you while offering you his ball.

“You want to play baby?” You asked, but you could see his handsome dad pinch his nose. It wasn’t the moment to annoy this stranger who didn’t seem to like you. “Later, ok? First, be a good boy and have dinner.” Your soft voice reminded him of the prospect of food, and now he was twisting in your arms. You let go of him and the toddler ran immediately to grab Din’s calf. The man looked exhausted and 100% like he didn’t want to be there. But when he put the little one between his strong arms his face lightened up in a way that made your heart skip a beat. Without a word, he left towards the catering table. Before getting lost between the multitude, Grogu’s head popped behind Din’s toned shoulder and he waved at you. You needed a moment to recover, having melted like ice cream from the cuteness of the gesture.

What a pair.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, Din can be a little rude sometimes.” You shook your head dismissively in response when Karga excused his friend, even though a little rude was a polite way to say it.

“Don’t worry sir, the baby was so adorable I didn’t notice.” You then offered your best smile before departing. “I leave you to attend the other visitors, it’s been a pleasure.”

Later in your shared dorm, you’d think a lot about the pair you had met. Such a friendly toddler and his dad? He was so attractive and manly you felt dizzy, but he had been so rude to you. What was the problem with him? He looked like he instantly disliked you. Maybe it was your cologne? Was it your outfit? Turning in your narrow mattress, you said to yourself you had more pressing matters to attend to, like how the hell you were going to pay for the semester after your scholarship had been denied. You sighed and closed your eyes, and you dreamt with broad shoulders and bright huge eyes.

Next Chapter

Tag List: @technicallykawaiisoul

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfic #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x original female character #modern din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro boys #pedro pascal characters #droidwrites #sculptor din djarin

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drawingdroid · 11 months ago

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Melting Point: Chapter II

A Sculptor Din Djarin x Art PhD Reader Series

Read Prologue | Chapter I

Chapter II: The Sculptor/Temper

Summary: You get a job offer you can't refuse and meet your new boss, a gruff sculptor who is so familiar.

Words: 2393

A/N: I darlings! I hope you enjoyed Christmas if that is your thing! I'm back with a new chapter, let me know what you think because I have a lot of feelings about The Armorer being reader's thesis tutor *cries in mommy issues*. Hope you enjoy this!

That morning you so were nervous. No, terrified. Finally, you were having your first meeting with your thesis tutor, the renowned artist and professor Dr. Armorer. You admired her work so much, and her deep knowledge of Ancient Mandalorian Art was admirable. All of her books were constantly by your bedside, extensively annotated. What would your role model think of you?

Your first impression was that she commanded so much respect with only her way of standing. She insisted on meeting in the faculty’s foundry, while you had expected to talk in her office. You couldn’t get your eyes off her while she was working with the red-hot metal against her anvil. She stopped hammering when she noticed you standing awkwardly at the door.

“Welcome kid.” Her voice was flat while the visor of her safety mask was fixed into you. “I’m sorry for the scholarship.” Okay, so right to the point, no pleasantries. You shivered, feeling self-conscious, and downed your gaze to the floor. “Your proposal is magnificent and I pushed for you to be admitted, but the budget is limited and now Nevarro City is placing its interest in other departments.” After placing her tools in their place. She didn’t remove her leather gloves though.

“Thank you Dr. Armorer, I’m well aware that investing in Art has never been one of the top priorities of the governments.” Your tone came surprisingly cynical while it was sad too. Your cheeks blushed for the sudden outburst in front of the professor.

“Do you drink caf?” You nodded and she directed her attention to a little coffee maker in a corner that you hadn’t noticed earlier. Soon she handed you a steamy cup of the dark liquid. She had brewed one for herself but hadn’t lifted her golden mask to drink yet. It looked like she was studying you.

“Professor, I’m very embarrassed to admit this, but I applied to the program expecting to receive that scholarship, and without it I’m afraid cannot afford my studies,” you blurted with your gaze fixated on your drink. “I’m very sorry for having wasted your time, but…”

“What brings you to want to study Mandalorian art, kid? She interrupted mid-sentence and you swallowed hard. A heat started expanding through your veins and it wasn’t because of the coffee. It was always the same when you spoke about your passion.

“Mandalorian culture is one of the most ancient ones still alive. The artistic manifestations were present early in their history and bound intimately with the development of the technology necessary to process beskar. The importance of the clans' signets was another factor to push for a more refined technique when working the metal…”

“I didn’t ask you for the book definition of Mandalorian art. My question was why you, a non-Mandalorian, want to specifically specialize in our art.” Her tone was still flat, but commanding. Had you made her mad? Was it wrong that you wanted to study Mandalorian Art?

“The way your sculpture is so raw and naked and still conveys the most profound, earth-shattering feeling while using something as cold as beskar, turning it into living and breathing things. It’s bold and succinct, it shows and hides and that gives me goosebumps every time I look into a Mandalorian sculpture.” You didn’t want to be so passionate in your first encounter with Professor Armorer, but the fear of being rejected not only by the scholarship commission but also by her, made you snap. Your skin felt hot and your heart was hammering inside your chest.

The Armorer, as everyone called her, hummed in contentment, and then she grabbed a notepad and a pencil that had seen better days and scribbled something.

“My friend is looking for an assistant to help him around in the studio. Since your background is in Fine Art, I think you’ll manage just fine.” She gave you the paper with only a number and address on it. You looked at her quizzically. “The salary he offers should cover your stay here. I’ll arrange your schedule so your obligations as a PhD student are met.” You could cry with gratitude right now, even though you knew nothing about this job. “And concerning your tuition fees, let me move some strings. I can’t promise anything kid, but I may know someone who’d be interested in sponsoring you.” You could hug this woman, kiss her on her protection mask. But you stayed in your seat grabbing the mug she gave you like a lifeline.

“I can’t…I don’t know…” You babbled with watery eyes.

“I only expect the best of you kid, it’s gonna be hard work. Now go.” And then she returned to her work in the forge, leaving you trembling with excitement.

After scrolling down some job portals, you closed your laptop with a sigh, calculating the best way to manage your savings to stretch them to the limit. With maximum frugality, you could make it through three months.

Professor Armourer had given you that mysterious number, but even though you were going to try, you didn’t want to depend 100% on her kindness. Moreover, you didn’t know which type of “studio assistant” job this would be since she provided little description. You grabbed the piece of paper and called. Nothing. You went on with your routine and tried again later, but no one responded.

Would it be too bold to just show up there? After all, your tutor had provided an address, so it was assumable it was okay if you just went there to speak to her friend in person. Like the old times, didn’t people do that? So you made up your mind and grabbed your tote bag and your trusty flannel. Slipping in some sneakers, you went outside to explore Nevarro City.

The area was definitely more industrial, certainly convenient for someone who was a metal artist, nevertheless, it had some charm to it. The warehouses were old, some of them reconverted into homes or other artist’s studios. You looked again at the paper provided by the professor when you recognized a building with large windows and a silver, old truck parked in the door as the one you were looking for. A big container with metal scraps was against one of the walls. You looked for a doorbell or something similar but nothing was in sight, so you decided to just pound the door.

Metallic sounds could be heard from the interior, and you asked yourself which kind of artist they were. After a while, you pounded the door again, it was clear they hadn't heard you. But the noise was loud and on top of that some electric guitar music was playing. You decided to make a bold move and try to open the door.

The inside was bright due to the big windows. The studio was neat and functional with all the tools one needed to work metal from small to large scale. Semi-finished projects were here and there, but it looked like everything had an order inside the warehouse. You could spot a little kitchenette too and a mattress in a cosy corner.

The man you were looking for was working at the big wooden table that occupied the centre of the room. It looked like he was polishing a metal piece, and sparks were flying all around. The first thing you noticed was the welding mask. It was beautiful, reflecting all the little sparks like fireworks, and had a similar design to the one The Armorer wore. It was shaped like a traditional Mandalorian helmet, the one the ancient warriors once used as battle armour. You smiled to yourself.

You went closer to where he was working, being cautious to not startle him, but it looked like he hadn’t sensed your presence yet, so you just observed him. The sleeves of his work jumpsuit were rolled and you could admire how muscular his forearms were between the fabric and the leather gloves he used for protection. The zipper of his clothing piece was down until his sternum, letting you see thigh undershirt under it, revealing sculpted pecs.

Maker help me if this man is gonna be my boss.

His black visor was suddenly pointed in your direction and you almost jumped from the surprise. He had left de welder on the wooden table and lowered the volume of the music on a radio that looked as old as time and then approximated you. All his movements were slow and restrained.

“What do you want?” He asked drily, without removing the welding mask from his face. As his friend the professor, he didn’t waste a second in pleasantries. His voice was as gruff as his looks. He didn’t look like an artist at all but a sort of mechanic or technician.

He waited for your response with his gloved hands in his narrow hips, a leg slightly flexed. The way he carried himself made him look like a statue in a museum. He was observing you carefully, from head to toe. You noticed your mouth was dry.

“I…The Armourer sent me…because of the job…assistant.” You said finally. Perfect, you now had made a fool of yourself by speaking like you didn’t know grammar when you indeed made a living of writing. You could die of the embarrassment.

“I told her…” He started and then sighed, lowering his broad shoulders in defeat. “Come, have a seat.” He said tilting his head towards a desk next to the large windows.

You assumed it was a desk because it was completely covered by stacks of diverse documents and you couldn’t even guess the material of the piece of furniture. You observed them as you sat in a beautiful vintage chair, while he did the same in front of you. A lot of invoices, a PC as old as time, sketches of what looked like sculptures, sheets with budgets, newspapers, exhibition brochures. You smiled softly when you distinguished the characteristic doodles of a little kid. You kept that last info to yourself, thinking it wasn’t polite to be nosy in your first meeting.

He then looked at you like it was the first time he acknowledged your presence. His legs were wide apart, but while he looked confident you noticed he was fidgeting with his gloved fingers. What a curious man. And why was he so familiar?

“What can you do?” He asked, always the eloquent one. You looked around you for a moment, gathering your thoughts.

“Anything you need around here.” You responded, now a bit more confident. “I can operate almost every machine in this place, know the basics of wielding, and can help with molds and the foundry” He now looked more interested, bending his large body towards the table. “But for a start, I think the most urgent matter is this mess.” Sure, you were cheeky, but you needed the job, and it was obvious the man needed help with admin. You went from nervous to sassy in five minutes. “Does that even work, or is it part of an art installation?” You pointed to the PC that looked like it was stuck in the 90’s. He made a noise that could be a chuckle or a grunt.

“The Armourer sent me your CV.”

Oh, so he knew you were coming after all.

“What makes a qualified researcher as you want to work as an assistant?” This was probably the highest number of words he had put together to this moment. His low baritone was warm and nice to hear.

You blushed a bit. Of course, you had made your apportations, but you were only starting in the Academia even though you had some articles published. But qualified was a bit of a stretch. You could tell him the truth. That you needed to pay rent after being denied the scholarship. But that didn’t put you in a good light, especially in a job interview.

“Being a researcher, I tend to spend most of my day in my head. Manual labour grounds me.” You bit your lip a bit nervous because you had just offered a piece of personal information, even though anything in your tone revealed that you weren’t referring only to your job.

He only nodded in understanding, crossing his thick forearms over his chest.

“You start tomorrow at 1500.” Okay, former military maybe? That was rich. And it was the shortest job interview of your life. “I usually wrap up at 2100, is that okay for you?” His voice had a kinder tone now, although sounding still gruff. You recounted mentally the bus timetable to your home and calculated it would be tight but you could make it.

“Yes, is perfect.” You offered him a big smile for the first time feeling grateful. “Thank you for the opportunity.” Then he accompanied you to the door and you realized he hadn’t provided you a name. He probably knew you from your CV though. You panicked a bit, trying to recall if Professor Armourer had told you his name but you couldn’t remember and it seemed awkward to ask now.

When you made your exit through the door, he leaned against it and you noticed he was as wide as the frame. The perks of being a sculptor, you supposed. You had to stop admiring his physique if he was going to be your boss. You arranged a bit your heavy tote bag on your shoulder and put a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

“I’m looking forward to tomorrow.” You said to the statue man. He just nodded and you awkwardly acknowledged the interaction was over, so you left with an energetic handwave while he was standing there nonchalantly. Was he observing you? Just having some fresh air? You couldn’t tell with that damned mask. You found yourself wondering how he’d look under it. But it felt weird you didn’t know your boss's name or how he looked. You turned on your heels and gathered some courage. He was still in the same position and you felt super awkward. “I’m sorry, I think I didn’t catch your name and it felt wrong leaving without…”

Your new boss sighed heavily, and so so slowly, started to remove his welding mask. Your jaw dropped. Those sad eyes weren’t easy to forget.

“It’s Din, Din Djarin.”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @technicallykawaiisoul @dameron-grant-spector

#din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #modern au din djarin #modern din djarin #the mandalorian x y/n #din djarin fanfic #din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin x female reader #sculptor din djarin #the mandalorian fanfiction #droidwrites #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro boys

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drawingdroid · 27 days ago

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Melting Point: Chapter IV

A Sculptor Din Djarin x Art PhD Reader Series

Read Prologue | Series Masterlist

Chapter IV: The Patient/Surface Roughness

Summary: In the last month. you've become an essential piece in Din's life. An unexpected event will make you grow even closer.

Words: 3594

Warnings: Blood! Hospitals and medical terminology, This is a slow burn, you've been warned!; a lot of talking about Art and PhD life; Reader is not Grogu's nanny but this is very Grogucentric if that makes sense; And Reader is Din's employee too; Very grumpy and antisocial Mando; Grogu is human but the only thing described are his eyes; Reader appearance is left blank; Age gap of 10-15 years; Fluff fluff fluff

A/N: It's been a while since I've updated this fic, but the other day in class I felt a sudden need to sink into this story again and handwrote 24 pages of this on my iPad. I hope you enjoy my little AU!

Din and you fell into a comfortable routine. You helped him with the admin parts of his business while he worked on his art. Green Karga dropped by a lot, and you learnt that he babysat Grogu while DIn was working. He was like the kid’s grandfather and it was a delight to see them together

But sometimes the toddler would come to the studio, even though you weren’t sure if that was the safest option. In defense of din, he wouldn't use heavy tools those days and the dangerous stuff was locked away.

The boy normally just wanted to do the same as his dad, so if Din was drawing, he’d sit next to him and scribble on a sheet.

”That’s looking good, pal,” you commented, crouching next to his spot on the floor. Grogu grinned at you and clapped his hands in excitement.

“Good afternoon everyone,” greeted Karga entering the studio with his usual bright smile. The toddler chirped and went straight to the old man’s arms, who was already prepared to lift him. “Today I’m not comin’ for you baby, I’m here for business.”

Din, who had been absorbed by a drawing on his workbench, lifted his gaze as if he had just noticed you had company.

“What brings you here today, Greef?” In the month you knew both of them, you still couldn’t discern if they were friends or hated each other's guts.

With the kid sitting on his hip, the older man hovered over Din’s shoulder.

“What are you working on?” Din rapidly pushed aside and hid the drawing he had been working on.

“Nothing of your business,” he snarled, and Greef let a loud guffaw out.

“I’m your rep, you’re literally my business.” Din rolled his eyes at this but you could pick up his smirk.

“Grogu, do you want to play outside while your dad and grandpa talk?” You asked the boy, noticing that the two men had some serious talk to do. You had been sitting for a while now and needed the stretch, too.

The boy escaped from Karga’s arms and ran towards the back garden.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” You smiled at the men and went after Grogu.

“Thank you,” your boss said, stopping you on your tracks, a softness in his eyes that you thought was only reserved to his son.

“I’ll make sure he has a snack too,” you winked cheekily and ran to the backyard, where you were sure the toddler was already elbow-deep in the pond.

“Is everything okay?” Grogu was chewing a homemade lemon cookie you baked at home. He was sitting on your lap and the crumbs were already covering your chest.

Greef Karga had just left and your boss was looking worried. He was leaning against his workbenches, messing with his scruff, gaze lost. You noticed that cute spot where his beard didn’t grow. It was kind of endearing.

”Karga just told me the museum needs the pieces sooner than we had accorded,” his voice was serious, tinted in worry.

”How much?”

”A month.” Wow, that was a lot. Din was already working long hours to meet the deadline.

”I’ll speak with the providers so they put you on priority then,” the gears on your mind were already working, thinking about how you could be useful to Din. “I can start packing the pieces that are already completed too…”

”You don’t have to,” he deadpanned, looking stern. You were already at your desk, Grogu on your lap and phone in your hand, ready to negotiate with DIn’s providers.

”I’m here to help you, Din.” You frowned, not understanding his sudden attitude. “You don’t need me any longer?” You won’t recognise, even to yourself, the tight knot that formed in your stomach when you said that.

Grogu looked like he sensed your unease and emitted a quizzical sound.

”No, of course I need you.” Din closed his eyes and swept his hand across his salt and pepper hair. He was looking more tired than ever “This...will probably be more than you signed up for,” he admitted, looking at his son for a moment.

Your eyebrows rose and Grogu mirrored your expression, looking super cute.

”DIn I love helping you here, I’m not afraid of a bit of hard work.”

”What if it puts you behind with your other responsibilities?” Was he really worried about your PhD now? The man was just so nice for his own good.

”I’ll speak with Professor Armourer, I don’t think it’ll be a problem if I put some of my duties aside for some time.”

”Let me speak to her first.”

”Okay, thank you.” A tension you had been holding was released. For a moment you thought he was getting rid of you. It surprised yourself how your heart felt like sinking for a moment. You told yourself it was because of the prospect of losing your livelihood, nothing more.

”Din.”

He had already resumed working, so he turned at your call.

”Are you paying me the extra hours?”

To your surprise, he let out a low chuckle and then nodded.

”I’ll send you a new contract,” he stood up and walked towards you, a gentle expression softening his handsome face. “I’ll make sure it acknowledges you as part time babysitter too,” he joked, lifting Grogu from your lap.

You chuckled Bach, removing the cookie crumbs from your breast.

“I do it gladly, you know,” you assured, giving him your warmest smile.

Din didn’t take long after that to start warming up to you. I’d softly answer your questions about his craft. Your curiosity was endless, and you were afraid he’d grow tired of your inquisitive nature, but it looked like he was a willing teacher.

It was becoming clear to you that you had a crush on your boss, and it only deepened with the passing of the weeks. Din was a silent companion, but his mere presence made you feel at ease. He was warm and caring and falling for him felt natural. He worked so hard to provide for his son and he tried to be the best dad he could.

Your life was in a good spot, you reflected. More hours working for DIn meant more money too, so you were feeling more serene on that aspect. And hanging out with the sculptor and his son was a big plus of the job. On the side, you weren’t neglecting your studies, trying to keep up with the readings and your weekly meeting with Professor Armourer.

There was only one thing you missed in your life, and it was sculpting. You hadn’t had the space or time to sculpt since leaving your hometown. Of course you could ask Din if he ‘d let you borrow a corner of his studio, but you couldn’t get yourself to ask for it. You didn’t expect him either to let you touch his sculptures, but when you signed up for this job, you thought at least you’d have a bit of contact with the craft. Now being so close to it, you carved terribly to put your hands on some metal.

”I’ve already finished my tasks for today, can I help you with something?” You asked today, shyly opening the possibility of helping him.

He was wearing his welding mask and leather apron. Stopping the cutting rod he was using, his visor fixated on you.

”It’s ok, you can go home early today.”

Your shoulders dropped in disappointment.

”Of course, thank you Din,” you said trying to hide your true emotions.

He only nodded in response and resumed working. You picked up your things slowly, putting them inside your tote bag.”

”I’ll see you tomorrow.” You closed the metal door behind you and started walking towards the bus stop. Your thoughts went, inevitably, to your boss and how lonely he looked. Did he hang out with anyone except from Karga? You remembered the woman from the other day, when you picked up Grogu in the middle of the storm. Maybe they were involved in some way. You didn’t have to linger too much on how that thought made you feel. Either way, it seemed like the man didn’t need human company that much. Although around Grogu, he opened up a bit and became more talkative, even though the toddler was still non-verbal.

When you arrived at the bus stop, you reached for the book you had been reading to pass the time, but you noticed it wasn’t there. You left it at Din’s most probably.

Looking at your watch, you calculated that you would still arrive home early if you returned for the book, and you really wanted to advance your reading on Mandalorian History. You started undoing your path towards Din’s workshop.

”Din! It’s me, I left my book” you announced opening the door. By the, you already had the habit of just slipping inside because Din never heard the door when he was working.

Fumbling through the papers on your desk, you found the book in a short time.

“I have it” Silence. Din was a quiet man, but he normally responded when you spoke, maybe only out of politeness. And after paying attention, you couldn’t hear any tool or even his radio. “Din?” you asked, starting to wander around the workshop.

It was then when you saw the disc grinder laying on the floor, carelessly tossed away. Din always was reverent towards his tools. You were starting to worry when you saw the blood.

All your alarms set ablaze when you noticed the large drops of blood painting the floor. It wasn’t difficult to follow the trail that led you towards the small bathroom.

“Din, it’s me, are you okay?” A long silence followed and you were starting to get fidgety when you heard his voice, calling your name. Without a doubt you stomped into the bathroom. The scene inside was one you were not prepared for.

Your boss was on the bathroom’s floor pressing a towel to his right arm. The fabric was soaked and his face was contorted in a grimace. You instantly dropped on your knees next to him, trying to remember everything you’d read about first aid. There was a lot of blood pooling around him.

“I’m gonna be late…” His warm chocolate eyes looked at you pleading. You untangled your flannel from your waist and tightened it around the dripping towel. He let you work “I…have to pick up Grogu…”

“Din, we need to take care of this first,” you urged him, trying to not sound panicked, even though your heart was broken seeing how he thought of his son in a moment like this.

“He’s gonna think I’ve forgotten…” he slurred, hissing of pain when you tied the knot to hold the improvised bandage.

“Can you stand?” Surrounding his ample chest with your arm, you tried to support his weight by yourself. “I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

WIth every ounce of strength you had, you stood up dragging your boss with you.

He was heavy as fuck.

“I can drive…” he frowned at you, his gaze looking a bit lost. Your worry only grew.

“Din, are you only hurt in your arm?” you asked, trying to drag him towards the pick-up.

“I think I hit my head…” he looked at his injured arm, slightly panicked. “I…can’t feel my hand.”

You felt alarmed but tried not to show it.

“It’s probably because I tightened the flannel too hard.”

He looked at you, a bit less concerned.

“I’m firing you if I lose my hand”, he threatened, sounding more lucid.

“Are you seriously threatening your saviour right now? Because I could dump you here right now.”

He lowered his head and chucked lowly. You were sure he had a concussion.

“I need to call Omera, Grogu’s at hers.” He said when you finally reached the truck and opened the passengers door to him. You jumped in the driver’s seat once you made sure he was strapped and helped reaching for his phone. It was slippery from the blood. He noticed then your clothes were stained too.

“Uh I’m sorry, I’ll buy you something new.”

“Make up your mind, are you firing me or buying me clothes?” you joked, trying to distract yourself from how big and vulnerable his eyes were looking. Luckily, Omera picked up the phone.

“Omera! Hi, I’ve had an accident…Yes, it’s ok, but I won’t be able to pick up Grogu…Can he stay playing with Winta for a bit, do you have more patients for today?...Thank you, I’ll send Pali or Karga…And pay you for the extra time…You’re so kind to us Omera.” He hung up, looking relieved.

For a moment, you thought about his words and how Din had called Grogu “Omera’s patient”. So maybe they weren’t involved after all? It wasn’t the time to think about that, and while smiling for yourself at the prospect of Din being single, you focused on starting up the truck.

Din lifted an eyebrow at your attempts.

“Are you sure you know how to drive?” He asked after the third time you’d failed to start the car.

“Of course! It’s only this ancient junk, it’s not cooperating!”

“Be careful with that mouth, the Razor is older than you.”

“I don't doubt it.” The pick-up finally starterted up and you manoeuvred it out of the workshop and into the road. To be honest, it had been a while since you had driven, but you won’t admit that to Din. “Are you doing ok?”

You looked at him with the corner of your eye while you adjusted the mirrors to your height. His eyes were closed and he looked like he was in pain.

“It’s ok, I’ve had worse,” he rescinded between closed teeth.

“In the army?” You shot your lucky guess. He opened one eye, his face looking serious.

“How did you know?” His tone was raspy, and you hoped you hadn’t trespassed any boundary.

“See you at 1200,” you impersonated how husky his voice was behind the welding mask.

“Smart girl,” he gave you a lopsided smile. Something in his tone gave you goosebumps.

“So is it true?” Your curious nature won’t let you keep your mouth shut. He sighed as if a ton of beskar was on his chest. “You don’t have to answer, I’m sorry.” You were starting to feel awful, your knuckles white gripping the steering wheel.

��I was there. The Night of the Thousand Tears,” he admitted, looking defeated. “That was what you wanted to know, wasn't it?”

You swallowed feeling hot in your cheeks. Were you that obvious?

“I’m glad you survived.” Your voice was small but your gaze didn’t divert from the road. He didn’t respond. His eyes were closed again. “Din.”

“Mmm…” Was he losing consciousness? Your adrenaline hiked up and you pushed the gas pedal.

“Stay with me, boss.” He hummed again in response. You checked the GPS, it wasn’t long until the hospital. “Tell me about Mandalore.”

You could hear your heart hammering in your eardrums waiting for his response.

“I wasn’t born there,” he finally answered, his eyes still closed. “My homewold…was destroyed. When I was a kid.”

You feld a hit of sorrow. How many losses had this man beard in his life?

“So you aren’t a Mandalorian?” You asked, trying to keep him awake,

“Mandalorians rescued me…I was a foundling and they raised me as their own in the covert.”

“Is there where you learnt how to sculpt?” You noticed he was drifting off.

“Yeah…the Armourer…She taught me.” His voice was so weak, but you felt incredibly relieved when he spoke.

So your mentor was Din’s too. How old was the Professor then? You had never seen her face, and her voice didn’t give her age away.

“Thank you for sharing this with me, Din” You felt really moved because of his harsh past. It really made you want to know more about him. But it wasn’t the moment nor the place.

“We’re here.” You stopped the car at the ER door and rushed to his side. He almost crushed you stepping down from the truck, but you tried to stay strong. The paramedics saw you and were soon helping you inside. “You’re gonna be ok, DIn.”

It didn’t matter to you that the nurse said that you could go home because he was out of risk. When you overheard there wasn’t anyone in his contact list to call, you bought an Americano and got comfortable in the plastic chair.

You were nodding off when the nurse called for you.

“He’s awake. We had to get him through an emergency surgery.”

You felt your stomach drop.

“Was it that bad?”

“His tendon was severed and he had a concussion, but the surgeon will explain it to you in detail.”

You swallowed hard, feeling worried about Din. Will he be able to work again?

“Oh, welcome. I’m Mr. Djarin’s surgeon, are you his partner?”

You almost flinched, your eyes opened wide. It was a millisecond decision.

“Yes.” Your eyes travelled to his sleeping form in the hospital’s bed. It looked like he had a good insurance plan since he was alone in the room.

“I’ll explain it to you then, take a seat.”

The surgeon said a lot of technical words about tendons and arteries. They had to fix his tendons that were cut by the disc grinder. It even reached the bone, luckily only making a dent, but they had to remove the shards from the wound. He had also lost a lot of blood. You were suspecting where this was going.

“Will he be able to sculpt again?” You fidgeted with your fingers and looked at Din, concern in your eyes.

“Not for a while. And once the tendons are healed, he’ll need a lot of physical therapy to restore its normal function.”

You sighed, sulking deeper in the chair.

“He has a deadline close…”

“If the wound doesn’t heal properly he could lose mobility in his hands and fingers.”

You closed your eyes and pinched your nose bridge.

“Thank you, doctor. I’ll keep him out of the studio then.”

“It’s my job. I hope he can work again soon.” The surgeon looked really worried about DIn. “Call the nurse when he wakes up again.” And with that, the doctor left you both alone.

You sighed and looked at Din’s bandaged arm. Were you supposed to tell him the awful news? Observing him, you realise how pretty he looked this relaxed. In your day-to-day, you always saw him with a scowl or his mask on.

“I’m sorry boss, but I’m sure we’ll get over this.” Absentmindedly, you tucked his comforter while admiring his sharp profile.

“Boss? I thought I was your boyfriend now.”

Your stomach twisted when you heard his husky voice.

“Din!” You immediately pressed the button that called the nurse and started panicking. He started to open his eyes slowly. “Did you hear everything,” you asked while twisting your hair.

“Yeah…It was like I couldn’t open my eyes or move, but I felt completely awake.”

He spoke slowly, still under the effects of the anaesthesia.

“I’m so sorry…”

“Don't worry about that. I was careless.”

“What happened DIn?” You sat next to him in the bed, doubting if you were being inadequate although it felt like the right thing.

“I underestimated how well I welded two pieces. When I tried to separate them with the grinder, the disc went flying unruly towards my arms.” His tone sounded ashamed and you felt terrible for him.

“It was an accident.”

“I know, but it was my fault. I’ve been so focused on finishing the pieces for this exhibition I haven’t been taking good care of my tools.”

“I can check the tools for maintenance when we return to the studio.”

He sighed, looking incredibly tired. You noticed that his eyebags were deeper than ever.

“Would you do that for me?”

I’d do anything for you.

Your thoughts scared you. When had you grown so attached to your boss?

“Of course Din, I told you I know my way around machinery.”

He sat up in the bed and swept in left hand over his face.

“You’ve been so helpful around the studio.” His warm gaze was melting you in the spot.

“I’m your employee. It’s my job,” you responded trying to keep a neutral face, but you wouldn’t stop fumbling with your empty coffee cup. He tilted his head, his gaze inspecting you from head to toe.

You’re more than that and you know.

Those were the words you secretly wished to hear from his pouty lips.

“That wasn’t what you told the doctor?”

Your face got hit by a wave of heat and you instinctively covered up with your hands. Was he this cheeky and chatty because of the blood loss or the anaesthesia?

“Relax, I know why you did it.” If you said you weren’t a relative of his or his girlfriend, they would have kicked you out of the room. Ans you didn’t want that.

Your shoulders slumped in mortification and he chuckled deep in his chest. A passing thought about how you loved that sound made an appearance. You could get used to this version of Din.

“Well, are you getting me a coffee or not?” Your smile widened and you nodded, grateful that Din was ok. You will reflect on your feelings about him later…or maybe not.

Next chapter

#din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian au #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x gn!reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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drawingdroid · 1 year ago

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Melting Point Fic Preview

Moodboard by me

Summary: You're a new PhD first year in The University of Nevarro specialising Mandalorian Art. When your favourite sculptor, the mysterious Mando, opens an art exhibition in the city, you're the first one to enroll. Attending that opening will end up changing your life forever.

Warnings: This will be mostly fluff but smut will happen, reader uses she/her pronouns and is afab, reader appearance is not mentioned, kind of age-gap (reader in her mid thirties and Din early forties), Grogu is human in this one but I left his hair colour to your imagination!

A/N: Hi Din enthusiasts! I've been working on something a bit different the last three months: a multi-chapter fic about our fav bucket head, but this time it's a modern au! Art is what I majored in, so it was only a matter of time for me to write a fanfic, and the victim of it happens to be Din. Tell me if you have any thoughts about this! I'm currently editing the first chapter and expect to publish the first on December.

Photo transcript: Melting Point: A Din Djarin X PhD Reader AU Fanfiction. The Guild Gallery. Coming Soon.

#din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin x female reader #din grogu #the mandalorian modern au #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fluff #modern au din djarin #modern au #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom

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drawingdroid · 12 days ago

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Okay so next chapter of Melting Point our grumpy sculptor Din Djarin is attending to a gala with you so I need to decide which Pedro’s look suits him better, can you help me?

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x female reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #din djarin x fem!reader #pedro pascal characters #droid writes

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drawingdroid · 13 days ago

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Melting Point: Chapter V

A Sculptor Din Djarin x Art PhD Reader Series

Read Prologue | Series Masterlist

Chapter V: The Teacher/Alloy

Summary: After the accident, Din is not able to work for a while. He will lose the opportunity at the museum if he can't deliver the pieces. Would you step up and help him?

Words: 2356

A/N: Their relationship is finally blooming folks! Don't worry, we'll get there. Even to the smut! For the moment, I hope you enjoy this shorter chapter. Writing has been a big distraction from the horror of the terrible catastrophe in my city Valencia. I'm so touched because Pedro himself used his platform to speak about us. He's just the best.

Karga visited the next day of the accident with the kid.

“Are those flowers for me, Grogu?” Din asked, his face softened at the sight of his son hiding behind a massive bouquet.

“He chose ‘em for you!” Karga explained, hugging you as a greeting. “How’re you doing sweetheart?” he asked leaving his hand on your shoulder.

From the corner of your eye, you saw how the toddler climbed the bed to be embraced by his dad.

“Thank you, kid, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it last night.” Din caressed his son’s little head. “Did you have fun at your sleepover with Winta?”

Grogu chirped and started signing some words. Your eyes opened in awe. So the little one could speak sign language! You made a mental note to learn the most common words.

“You haven’t been home yet, have you sweetheart,” of course Karga noticed at the mess your hair was and the wrinkled clothes. “Go home, have a shower, I’ll stay with him.”

You doubted for a moment, but after all your back was aching from sleeping on the couch and you could use a hot shower. Din was in good hands with Karga.

“Okay, but I’ll come back in the evening.” You couldn’t allow Din to eat the horrible hospital food, so you thought of bringing him some frozen homemade soup you had back in your place.

You said goodbye to your boss and kissed Grogu’s head.

“Karga,” you whispered before leaving, “don’t be too hard on him.” With the approaching deadline, his injury would be a big nuisance.

Greef looked surprised but smirked knowingly. “You really care about him, don’t you?”

For a moment you panicked, suspecting Karga knew of your little crush. Were you that obvious? Probably, yes. You had stayed next to him like a lost puppy. You shook your head and left the room, leaving him wandering.

After a much-needed shower, you returned to the hospital with a soup container.

It was already dark and the hospital seemed quiet. Din was on the 4th floor, so you had to share an awkward silence with some of the personnel.

“Hi, I’m back,” you closed the door behind you and left the container on the table. He was alone, it looked like Karga and Grogu had left. Your boss didn’t look at you. He seemed deep in thought, reading glasses on the tip of his nose. You recognised the notebook he used for taking notes. “Are you really working right now Din?”

When he heard his name, he finally lifted his gaze. His expression was gloomy behind the glasses.

“Why are you here?” his raspy voice froze you. His question hit like an ice arrow.

Din removed his reading glasses, leaving them on the bedside table.

“I had some leftover soup at home and…” your cheeks started to feel warm.

“Why are you really here.” His gaze looked hard as beskar. For a moment you panicked wondering if he knew about your crush. “Are you that afraid of losing your job? You don’t have to make extra hours playin’ nurse y’know.”

Your eyes started to moisten. You didn’t understand why he was being so cruel to you.

“Is it that hard to believe that I genuinely care for you?” you said on the verge of tears. “I was so scared when I found you in the bathroom, Din”

He clenched his jaw and looked away. “I’m ok now. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“You’re not ok. And you can tell me what’s in your mind, y’know.” You’d want to tell him a lot of things, that he could count on you, that you weren’t only his employee. But he was upset and you, a coward.

You wiped your tears and he pinched his nose.

“We’re done. I can’t reach the deadline with..this,” he explained staring angrily at his wounded arm. “And without the money from the museum, I won’t be able to pay you.” His tone was sour, defeated.

You sat on the bed next to him. Probably telling him that you’d stay by his side even if he didn’t pay you wasn’t a good idea. “Din, let me help you. I know how to use the tools. I’ll be your hands.”

“That’s not enough,” he replied in a stern tone, but you were determined.

“Let me show you how I work and then you can decide if it’s up to your standards.” It had been a while since you’d sculpted, but you were confident in your skills.

He lifted a brow. “I’d need to see that before”, he said after a while, “and I have one condition.”

“Of course, tell me.” You tried to hide your excitement, but couldn’t wait to go to the workshop.

“If you finally help me, you name will appear next to mine.”

“Din.” Your mouth was so open from the surprise you feared that you looked like a fish.

“You’ll be doing all the manual labour, I won’t accept anything else.”

“Lots of sculptors don’t make their own pieces, just the design”, you complained, not finding acceptable to be credited.

“Not Mandalorian ones, it won’t be honourable.”

You sighed but he was right about that. You had forgotten how important authorship was in Mandalorian culture. You thought about it. It would be like Claes Oldenburg and Coosje Van Bruggen. The only difference would be that you weren’t an artist. Or married to him.

In fact, you were no one, just a broke PhD student and his part-time employee. But right now, helping Din was more important than your self-doubt.

“Okay, it’s a deal.” Din’s gaze softened at your positive response. “We’ll make it, Din.” Your hand was so close to his on the duvet and you felt the sudden need to hold it. But even though you felt drawn to him, you had to know your place. He was your boss.

“Thank you,” his gratitude took you by surprise, “you really have to like this job at this point if you’re willing to put up with this shit show.”

He didn’t have an idea.

The next day Din asked you to bring his sketches to start working together. He explained every sculpture he had planned for the show and you worked on the blueprints side by side. When he was discharged from the hospital you were there. In fact, you hadn’t left his side. Both of you went directly to the studio with a clear plan of action.

Upon arriving at the workshop, it felt like a month had passed, even though Din was in the hospital only for a few days. He walked to the wardrobe where he had his sculpting gear and handed you an apron and a welding mask.

“You’ll need security boots but I don’t think I have your size… I can grab you a pair from the store when we close.”

He asked for your shoe size and you answered, grateful.

On your first day, he observed you as your shadow, analysing every micro-movement of your hands, correcting you here and there.

You cut metal, welded and even started preparing a mold.

“Is it alright like this?” It had been a while since you practised your craft and you weren’t so sure about your modelling skills.

Din got so close to you that you could smell his after-shave.

“You have magic hands, sparks.” You chuckled at his comment, he started calling you that after a big spark had surprised you while welding, making you squeak.

Contrary to what you had expected, Din wasn’t being grumpy at all. He looked almost like he was enjoying working together. Of course, he grew frustrated here and there when he couldn’t use his right hand, but he was a good teacher and you followed his instructions closely.

The first evening it got so late that Din ordered takeaway for you two. And the next ones, it became a habit. Not that you were complaining, you treasured those moments spent next to him relaxing together. Both of you enjoyed all kinds of cuisines and it was a pleasure to share the joy of a delicious meal.

“Did you travel a lot with the army,” you asked one night, looking at how he enjoyed food from different countries the same.

“Yeah, I was part of a specialised team so we flew where we were needed.”

Din hadn’t spoken a lot of his army days and you had a lot of questions, but didn’t want to overwhelm him.

“Do you have a favourite place you’ve been posted?’” Din stopped eating and looked deep in thought for a moment.

“Sorgan,” he said sounding sure, “almost settled there, Grogu loved it. Peaceful place.”

You didn’t know about Sorgan but you’d make a quick search about it later.

“And you? How are you enjoying your stay in Nevarro?” It was unusual for him to ask questions about your personal life, so you were startled.

“I didn’t expect to but…I’m loving it”, you confessed. “The barren lava flats, the glow of the magma…and the town is so lively. It’s so beautiful in its own quiet way.”

You noticed Din was smiling. It looked like he was in a good mood that day. “Have you travelled to the North?” he took a bite of his burrito, sauce staining his moustache.

“Not yet, I haven’t been y’know…available precisely.” You said it in a light tone, but the playfulness in the air died and you saw the guilt in his big eyes. He left the burrito on the plate.

“Look, I’m so sorry I dragged you into this…”, he started, but you put your hand over his and he fell silent.

“Din, you’ve given me the opportunity of my life, don’t be sorry please.” You couldn’t talk about your deeper motive to stay next to his side. You’d be mortified if he knew how fast your heartbeat raced every day before work.

He responded with a lopsided smile. Your hand felt like burning on top of his. He didn’t remove his.

“I’m sure you don’t need me to make your own path, sparks.”

Only if he knew how badly you needed him.

“I might not need you, but the way is much more enjoyable next to you.” You bit your lip immediately, regretting your words. Mortified, you were sure you had shown too much of your feelings for him.

He shifted in his seat and, to your surprise, turned his hand upwards, wrapping your smaller palm in his. It was rough and calloused, even though he always wore gloves to work.

“My life is more enjoyable since you’re here too”, he replied in that low baritone of his. You looked at your intertwined hands and then at his eyes. They were full of softness, of gratitude. You breathed sharply, unable to process the implications of his words.

“I like to be helpful,” you said, with a tiny voice.

“Is that so.” His dark orbs were directly staring at your soul, there was no way out.

“There’s sauce on your moustache,” you tried to deflect, incapable of bearing the intensity of the moment.

“Where?”

Your trembling hand lifted to meet his face.

“Here.” With your thumb, you grazed his upper lip. “It’s done.”

You noticed he had closed his eyes. His left hand hadn’t left yours. He exhaled and opened his eyes again.

“Thank you,” and that time, he didn’t call you sparks but your name and you admired how each syllable formed in his perfect lips. You were still staring and hadn’t noticed.

Suddenly you got up. “I should probably be leaving for the last bus.” You picked up your dish and the empty package of nachos. “Do you need anything else before I go?”

Din sighed and looked at his burrito, unable to meet your gaze. “No, it’s ok, I’ll do the dishes,” he responded when he heard the faucet of the kitchenette opening.

“Alright then, see you tomorrow Din.” Your lovely face disappeared through the door and he was left alone with his thoughts.

Had he read the room wrong? Maybe all your eagerness to help him was really only because he was your boss and your livelihood depended on the salary. But no, you looked genuine saying that you cared. It could be that you only thought of him as a friend.

He felt awful. It had been a long time since he had this feeling. But what was he expecting? You were his employee and ten years younger. It was wrong. The next day, he’d say sorry for making you uncomfortable and he’d keep his distance, although every cell on his body screamed to get closer to you.

The first day when he saw you welding, you looked so sexy and powerful. And your soldering was immaculate. He asked about where you’d learnt.

“Junkyard”, you had answered, and the response left him impressed. How a beautiful woman like you could come from there? He timidly asked a bit more about it, and you told the story of how your dad worked for years in his junkyard business only to finally open the garage of his dreams, how you played with the spare parts and came up with your creations. “I’ll show you some one day,” you had said, but he knew you were shy about your art.

You had arrived at his life like a guardian angel, improving everything you touched. Even him. He was less grumpy around you, all his friends had noticed. His business ran smoother, and his life too. You got on well with Grogu and he loved watching you play with him in the backyard. He won’t admit to himself he was harbouring some hopes.

But you had rejected him. It was ok. He could have you in his life in a different way. It had worked with Omera after he rejected her, why not with you? You were both adults after all. Although those warm feelings about you won’t disappear in a blink, especially being so close every day.

Din sighed again, thinking about how hard his winter was going to be.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #pedro pascal characters #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x female reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #din djarin x fem!reader #droidwrites #pedro pascal fic #the mandalorian x you

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drawingdroid · 11 months ago

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Melting Point: Chapter III

A Sculptor Din Djarin x Art PhD Reader Series

Read Prologue | Chapter I | Chapter II

Chapter III: The Father/Yield Strength

Summary: It's your first day working for Din Djarin and you learn some personal things about him, but the highlight of the afternoon is seeing again the little boy!

Words: 3306

Warnings: In this chapter topics about war are discussed! It's brief but if that triggers you, take care! This is a slow burn, you've been warned!; a lot of talking about Art and PhD life; Reader is not Grogu's nanny but this is very Grogucentric if that makes sense; And Reader is Din's employee too; Very grumpy and antisocial Mando; Grogu is human but the only thing described are his eyes; Reader appearance is left blank; Age gap of 10-15 years; Fluff fluff fluff

A/N: Happy New Year y'all! Wow, holidays are exhausting and I just wanted to isolate and write, so I'm glad to have this out finally. I'm so thankful for your comments and notes, they made the world to me! Even though I don't answer, (it's in my New Year's resolutions to overcome that anxiety) I read you and my heart warms up! Anyway, hope you enjoy ol' gruff Mando, I promise he's warming up the next chapter, but I love to stay truthful to the character and write him rough around the edges. Tell me what you think!

In the end, you could have saved yourself the embarrassment of asking for his name, because it was all over the work contract he emailed you the next morning. After the realisation that you knew each other from the opening, you had asked briefly about his son and left awkwardly. Why he hadn’t said anything was a mystery to you, although you suspected that he, indeed, didn’t like you. But it didn’t make sense that he hired someone he didn’t like. You sighed, realizing you were overthinking again.

Still not able to recover from the fact that your new boss was also the attractive dad you had met at the art exhibition, you walked through the faculty to meet Professor Armorer again. She didn't greet you this time, concentrated on a piece she was hammering. You waited by the forge, mesmerized by the sheer force she possessed and the hypnotizing colours of red hot beskar. It was a beautiful spectacle. Finally, she was satisfied with the piece, she introduced it in cold water, provoking smoke to form.

"You've met him." She said after the prolonged silence, the visor of her mask fixated on you now while she discarded her plier. You nodded, growing every day more accustomed to the economic use of the language of both your professor and your boss.

"He definitely needed help." You commented, picturing the hell of a table where he had his documents piling.

"I think you'll be able to learn a lot from each other." your tutor said mysteriously. You didn't know how you were supposed to teach anything to a professional sculptor like him, you'll be happy just giving him a hand, but you didn't say anything.

"I'm grateful for this opportunity Professor, I'll be able to stay in Nevarro thanks to you both." You said with humility and she nodded in acknowledgement.

"Now that you're more established, I'm arranging a meeting for you to know your colleagues. I'll send you the details soon." You'd been eager to meet the members of your investigation group since you had read the articles they published in prestigious art magazines. Their work was outstanding, and they were pioneers in a laser technique that revolutionized art restoration. You felt like a nobody in comparison to them. Probably that was why you didn't receive the scholarship.

"I'm looking forward to meeting them." You tried to sound cheerful but your feelings of unworthiness were starting to flood your insides. If your professor noticed it, you were unaware of it.

"One more thing. I'm emailing you a list of the readings you must prepare before the meeting. You'll be able to find most of them in the faculty library." You smiled at the prospect of immersing yourself in new knowledge and nodded, this time enthusiastically. Then she returned to her work without saying anything more and that was your cue to leave but you couldn't get your feet to move.

"Professor." She lifted her gaze from the anvil, letting you know you had her attention. "Who was the scholarship given to?" You asked in a small voice. She took her time responding.

"Genetic Engineer. Penn Pershing." She revealed and then started to melt Beskar again.

You left the workshop buried deep in thought, but feeling a bit relieved. It was normal that the university prioritised something as important as generic engineering over art. You convinced yourself to feel a little less bad about the scholarship. Art didn't save lives, you reflected. Discovering the formula for organ clonation did. You decided to move on and start focusing on the present moment. Your research, your job and your writing, so you decided to head to the library to find the books Professor Armourer had sent until it was time to head to work.

The sky was as grey as Beskar when you left the library with a pile of books in your arms. Luckily, they had most of them as your tutor had said, but you'd have to be imaginative to find the most rare of them.

The volcanic activity of Nevarro sometimes made the sky this heavy colour, but today it looked more like a storm was forming as the breeze was cold and smelled like rain. You ran to the bus, not wanting under any circumstance that the books you had just lent ended molten because of the weather. On the bus ride, you started reading one of the books that had caught your attention the most: Ritual Weapons of Mandalorian Culture. An anthropological view. There was a dense introduction about the importance of weapons in Mandalorian religion and then the first chapter depicted the most important of them, something called The Darksaber. You observed the drawing of the sword. It looked like how you imagined a black hole to be and the view gave you shivers. According to the writer, it was lost in The Purge, as the majority of Mandalorian devices and art. You sighed and closed the book, noticing you had arrived at your destination. You looked up to check the sky. It was darker than before and you'll swear you could hear thunder. Great.

Your boss had told you yesterday that he always left the door unlocked so you could just slip in without knocking every time, so you went inside the workshop carrying the heavy pile of books and deposited them in your workspace

"I'm here!" It looked like he was nowhere to be seen, and you started preparing your computer to open the spreadsheet where you had been tracking all his documents. No way you were using the 90's antique he had lying on the desk.

After 20 or 25 minutes, you grew worried. His truck was at the door, so he had to be inside. Your overactive brain started to generate possibilities. Maybe he'd had an accident and was lying in some corner of the studio? Bleed dry? Unconscious? You just got this job, your boss couldn't die the second day at work! You checked your phone but you didn't have any message from him, so you started wandering around the studio.

Soon you forgot you were looking for your boss's corpse. You hadn't had the opportunity to see any of his sculptures since the wire he had been welding yesterday didn't have any information about the project he was working on. But when you ventured further into the workshop, finally you saw some pieces of his in different states of completion here and there. It was clear that his primary material was metal, but you could see some stone and clay ones too. There was something familiar in all of them, but you supposed it was that they took inspiration from traditional Mandalorian art.

The styles were diverse, it didn't look like he stuck with one but more likely he explored different techniques depending on the project. For some reason, no finished piece was to be seen, but there were two sculptures in a corner that caught your attention. They looked more traditional than the other artwork since there were clearly two human busts, a man and a woman, portrayed in a semi-realistic way. They were made from molten bronze that looked like lava cooled down, which made them very expressive, but your favourite detail about them was the missing parts of the faces as if the sculptor had forgotten part of the model's features as he had been modelling them.

You observed the sculptures for some time until a cough behind you made you jump.

"Sorry! I didn't want to pry…" You turned in your heels to be welcomed by the wall of your boss's expansive chest. You felt so embarrassed you could die right there but then you noticed.

He wasn't wearing the mask.

Angular jaw covered by stubble, beautiful aquiline noise and plump lips framed by a neat moustache. You couldn't get yourself to meet his eyes though. It was already impolite how you were staring at his face.

"You work here." He said simply in his beautiful baritone voice as if that gave you full permission to nose around the studio. "Sorry for being late." Then you noticed he had been caught in the rain as his shoulders looked soaked. You were so mesmerized by the sculptures you didn't notice that indeed, the storm had started.

"No worries." You responded. Finally, you dared to not evade his gaze and be polite enough to look up.

Oh, Maker. Were those the warmest pair of eyes you had ever seen?

They looked kind, and welcoming. And also sad and tired. Terribly sad. You felt a knot in your throat and had to look away.

"This…this bust they're…incredible." You said deflecting the attention from the effect that gaze had had on you, even though you regretted not having picked a better word to depict your admiration. Looking again at them after having seen his face, you noticed something. "Are they your family?" You ventured. The look-alike was evident even though the portraits were fractioned. He lifted his brows with a hint of surprise and took his time to answer. You regretted being so nosy immediately.

"My parents." He answered in a raspier voice than usual. You nodded and smiled kindly, but still wondered if you had made him upset.

"I see." You fidgeted uncomfortably. For some reason, any of you were moving. The air was tense. "I should be starting with that paperwork." You finally got yourself together and looked at his face again. His head was a bit tilted to his right as if he was deep in thought. You noticed his soaked hair was dark and wavy, now plastered to his head because of the rain. "You should probably go dry yourself a bit." His dark chocolate eyes fixated on yours and he slowly nodded, moving so you could return to your desk.

You smiled again and returned to work. Now that you were under his gaze, you noticed how wild your heart was racing. He was your boss, you had to put yourself together. It didn't matter that he was crazy talented and incredibly handsome. After some deep breaths, you were able to calm yourself and return to work when he made an appearance again. Apparently, he had changed his overalls for dry ones and thank god he was wearing his usual welding mask.

"I've restocked the fridge uh…and there's a kettle if you want some tea." He was fidgeted with a towel he probably had used to dry his hair, because the strands were now looking into every direction. "It's starting to get colder."

"That's thoughtful of you, thanks." You tried to be relaxed and natural. It was easier without having those incredible eyes staring at you. He nodded and then left you with the paperwork. Soon you could hear the familiar sounds of the cutting machine and then a hammer. Today he didn't turn on the radio.

After finally achieving to order all the invoices by date and introducing all the data about suppliers in your growing spreadsheet, you gave yourself permission to stretch and make use of that kettle.

The kitchenette was old but clean and it had everything one could need. You looked through the cupboards and, to your surprise, your boss had a good collection of teas. You decided to go for a comforting blend called Apple pie chai. Cute, you thought. You wondered if he would fancy some too and prepared two mugs. While waiting for the water to boil, you stuck your nose in the fridge. There were sweet and savoury snacks and some fruit too. You went for the apples to complement the tea and cut them into bite-sized pieces for both of you and then put some dark chocolate next to them. When the tea was ready, you put everything on a tray and went to the bench he was working on.

"Snack?" You asked softly offering the tray. He lifted his gaze from his work and it took a bit for him to react until he nodded and lifted his welding mask.

"Thank you." He picked the mug closer to him with his orange-fingered gloves still on. Closing his eyes, he smelled the aroma of the tea. "It's been a while since I've had this one."

"Though it matched with the autumn weather." Even though it was still the beginning of September, the temperature drop looked more like a full autumnal afternoon. Then both of you enjoyed your drinks and snacks looking to the rain through the huge windows for a while until he talked.

"Will you arrive home safely with this storm?" He then asked. It didn't look like it was going to stop anytime soon and you looked worried at the pile of books you had brought from the library, frowning. "I can give you a ride." He offered, noticing your worry for the precious cargo. You'll normally brush away an offer like that, but it wasn't a single possibility that you and the books would arrive dry to your dorm.

"I'll appreciate that a lot, but only if is not a bother. I live a bit far away from here."

"Don't worry about it." He then finished his tea and put his welding mask down again, resuming work. That was your cue to return to your desk now, but first, you washed everything you had used and dried it.

The rest of the afternoon was quiet, the incessant rain just interrupted by thunder from time to time, and after some time a a lot of sticky notes, you had organised a huge part of the table not only by theme but by date too. You didn't want to pry much, so you had been just overeading the documents a bit. Electricity bills, client invoices, supplier info, everything was now in neat stacks. You hadn't checked the time. It was almost 17:00. Your boss had noticed too, because he approximated you and stopped in his tracks when he saw the piles of documents.

"This is…" He observed everything like he couldn't believe it. "Thank you." He added sincerely, now looking at you.

You smiled smugly, knowing you were efficient.

"I have a system, I can explain it to you tomorrow, but in the meantime, it would be great to get some folders." You said while picking your things. "I'll also start digitalizing everything and entering the data in a spreadsheet so it's easier to find everything." He nodded slowly. It wasn't clear who was the boss at this moment.

He nodded again in approval. Your gaze met his mask, fixing the t-shaped visor in it. You had liked working in silence with him this afternoon. Sometimes you had observed how he welded the thick wire or bent it at his will. It looked like he knew exactly what he was doing.

“We should be going,” Din said before starting to remove his mask and gloves. You nodded and picked up the pile of books you brought from the library. He disconnected the electricity and put on his brown leather jacket and you both were ready to leave. His truck was parked at the door, but the rain was pouring so hard you thought you better run for the sake of the books, nevertheless without a word, your boss opened a battered umbrella and covered you. “Go inside.”

You looked at him wide-eyed for the kind gesture and obliged, rushing to the passenger door. He opened it for you and in a heartbeat was seated in the driver’s seat. You gave him your address and he started the car. The truck was indeed old, but under his hands, it worked like clockwork. He drove with confidence even in the storm with terrible visibility. You noticed through the mirror the baby car seat behind.

“Thank you for the ride, I wouldn’t have survived this storm” you said softly, looking at the road. He hummed acknowledging your words and continued driving in silence. You were tense and weren’t sure if you should try small talk or not, a million thoughts going through your mind.

“I need to pick up Grogu before dropping you,” he said after a while, a hint of something you didn’t recognize in his steady voice.

“Of course, it’ll be great to see the little guy again!” You were surprised but happy to meet the cute toddler so soon. He was just so cheerful, especially in contrast with his gruff dad. It looked like mentioning his son softened him a bit because it was him who gave small talk a try.

“Uh…you have a lot of books there.” You smiled and looked at him and he passed his right hand through his hair.

“Those were the ones Professor Amorer told me to read for my thesis,” you explained. “I already started one about weapons, it’s so interesting.”

“How so?”

You shifted in your seat, growing excited to speak about your favourite topic. “There’s an entire chapter dedicated to this ancient weapon, The Darksaber. Almost anyone has seen it and the text leaves unclear what it is exactly, but the stories say that the one who has it shall rule Mandalore.”

Din visibility tensed and clenched his jaw and you wondered what had you said to fuck up. Ever his knuckles grabbing the steering wheel turned white.

“It isn’t like there’s anything left to rule anyways.” His tone was sour and you felt terrible for being so unthoughtful.

“I’m truly sorry for your loss, I’ve been tactless.” You lowered your head in shame, not looking at him. After the Great Purge, Mandalorians were refugees without a land to come back to, and you sometimes forgot that in your excitement, even though that was the destruction of Mandalore was first reason you were driven to study and preserve Mandalorian Art. Watching so much heritage being destroyed in The Purge, some of it stolen or trafficked in the black market, gave you the push to focus on the topic. You remembered being a girl and watching the bombings on the TV, the horror. It was a genocide and the annihilation of a beautiful culture. For you, preserving their Art was, in a way, to preserve their memory.

“It’s alright, it’s been a while.” He looked sad now, although you couldn’t really tell because of his permanent scowl. You didn’t talk again until he stopped the truck. “We’re here, it’ll be just a moment.”

With the umbrella from before, he rushed to the front door of a single-family home. Despite of the heavy rain, you could see the lawn was well taken for. A woman appeared from inside, and you could see she had long hair and a kind smile. She handed the boy to Din and waved to them when they left. You noticed a little girl appeared behind the woman and waved to them too. You wondered who they were.

“Here you are…” Din strapped the kid in his seat and you couldn’t help but turn to greet him.

“Hi little man, how was your afternoon?” Grogu squeaked excitedly, giving you a toothy smile.

“It seems like he remembers you.” His dad had returned to the driver’s seat and he looked softer now. You couldn’t help but feel relieved, the conversation had been a bit tense before. “Did you have a good time with Winta?” He asked the child, and the little one started an incomprehensible debriefing with his dad.

“That looks like a lot of fun!” You commented, and the kid looked at you with those dark, bright eyes. You smiled at him and he reached with his hand to you. Obliging to his silent petition, you let him grab your hand with his little one. It was when you heard something you weren’t expecting and warmed your heart.

Din Djarin chuckled.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @technicallykawaiisoul @dameron-grant-spector @booksarekindaneat

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #modern din djarin #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin x female reader

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drawingdroid · 1 year ago

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Drawing Droid’s chaotic Masterlist

Hi, I’m Terry, a Spanish Illustrator & Art teacher who is too obsessed with a space dad and his green child. I love writing fics of them as well as doodling anything Star Wars-related. I take drawing requests at the moment, so drop a message in my inbox if you want a treat. Thank you for sticking with me on this adventure, see you around. 🩵

General info of interest idk

🩵 You can find all my art under #droiddraws and my writings as #droidwrites

🩵 I update on AO3 here

🩵 This is my first year on Tumblr and I still don’t get things 100% here please be patient with me also I’m autistic and a lot of new social cues I don’t get!

One Shots

To be taken care of 🍾 Bounty Hunter Reader | Smut

Sweet Potato 🍠 Modern AU | Neighbours | Fluff

Series

The Unknown Regions 🪐 Plus Size Reader | Adventure, Fluff and Smut 🗓️ Complete

Melting Point 🌋 Modern AU | Sculptor Din Djarin | Art PhD Reader | Slow Burn 🗓️ Ongoing

Sketches

Vader under the suit red and blue

Anakin and Padme

Revenge of the Sith Happy Ending AU

Agent Whiskey and Grogu

Grogu Doodles here, here and here 💚

Silly Thanksgiving Din

Bento Box Grogu

Cowboy Grogu

Menstrual cup Din

Confused Din Djarin

Here I put all my fav fics and art from other creators I love! Don’t wanna have that gems lost in the vastness of the internet!

Fav Art

That amazing comics of Din and Grogu that make me cry @abigaillarson

Best SW comics in the galaxy @stealingpotatoes

Supreme Din Djarin Art @immarocketman

Din an Grogu being cute & chaotic af by @wwapich

Maul x Obi-Wan Comics I didn’t knew I needed! @milkcioccolato

The cutest SW chibis @nikkigam

Fav Fics

Sweetest Modern Din Djarin AU @604to647

All my fav Pedro Boys by @fuckyeahdindjarin

The cutest Din!!! By @thefrogdalorian

Everything by @beskarandblasters honestly

Other

The dividers we can’t live without from @saradika @saradika-graphics

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drawingdroid · 1 year ago

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Melting Point: Prologue

A Sculptor Din Djarin x Art PhD Reader Series

Series Masterlist

Prologue: Malleable/The merchant

Summary: You're a first-year PhD at The University of Nevarro specialising in Mandalorian Art. When your favourite sculptor, the mysterious Mando, opens an art exhibition in the city, you're the first one to enrol. Unexpectedly, attending to that opening would end up changing your life forever.

Words: 1060

A/N: Hi tin can man lovers! I finally put my Arts degree to some use to write this. What can I say? I hope you enjoy this little AU!

“No.”

“Din, you have to come.”

Greef Karga was looking at the sculptor with his hands on his hips, visibly annoyed. He had been trying to convince him for an hour already, and Din hadn’t stopped welding the piece he was working on during the entire conversation.

“I hate those things.”

“Those things pay for your son’s food, school and therapy.”

Even though Din was wearing his welding mask, Karga knew a death stare when he saw it. At least, he had achieved getting the sculpture’s attention for once, even though it had been throwing a low hit. Karga huffed in tired indignation.

“I don’t even ask you to make a public appearance, you just drop by with Grogu like a regular visitor…” Din rolled his eyes behind the mask, although Karga couldn’t notice, and resumed with the soldering.

“What would attending to the opening change?” He asked after a while, his voice a bit hesitant. Karga thought he was finally cracking.

“You’re so far from your public, you should know what they think about you.”

“I read the articles on the papers.” Karga rubbed his face, exasperated.

“I mean real people, not only the art critics. The public loves you, Din. They love Mando.”

The sculptor stopped again and let the soldering gun rest in the anvil by the forge.

“They don’t know me.” His voice sounded less assured, more vulnerable now.

“But they think they do, and that’s what matters.”

“I don’t know Karga…” Din started fidgeting with his orange-fingered gloves, the sculpture finally forgotten.

“Look, all the mystery thing has been a great strategy until now, but the times change and people now like to feel close to their idols.” Din snickered, now looking at Karga in the eyes, mask still on.

“I don’t want to be anyone’s idol.”

“The thing is you already are.” A long silence followed and the Din sighed.

“If I agree to this, you’ll start asking me to give more and more.” Din had caught him. That was Karga’s strategy, and he couldn’t deny it. He’d want the sculptor to engage more with the world, of course. Maybe even granting interviews one day. That would make wonders to his career. And to Greef’s wallet.

“Contemporary artists have to engage with the public Din, be present on social media…” The sculptor grunted, very displeased.

“You want me to become an influencer.” Karga let out a burst of laughter, not expecting Din to even know the neologism. But the artist was dead serious and he was lifting a brow under the welding mask in exasperation.

“Not at all, I just want you to become a little more approachable, more…human,” Karga said when he finally recuperated from the belly laughing.

“You’ve been years playing the mystery card in my marketing. Why now?” Din was pretty comfortable to be the anonymous artist under the pseudonym, it fitted his nature as he was severely uncomfortable with fame. And to be honest, with human relationships in general.

“Look, in the times of AI art, people are looking more a more after the person behind the art, it’s just…natural” Din tilted his head, not at all convinced by the argument.

“Look me on my face and tell me this is not because every time gossip about me leaks you sell 10 times more.” Karga swallowed and a sheer sheet of sweat covered his forehead. He shrugged, defeated and having no more energy for this discussion.

“Who doesn’t love a fistful of shiny credits?”

Din lifted his welding mask and slid his gloved hand across his face. Under his expressive eyes, deep dark circles rested, and his salt-and-pepper facial hair looked more unkempt than ever.

“I’ll think about it,” he said finally, and Karga’s smile went wide and bright.

“Thank you Mando, I knew you were a reasonable man.” Then he palmed the sculptor’s shoulder in a friendly demeanour. Din looked at him sceptical while he started cleaning and putting away his tools. The headache this conversation had provoked had him wanting to wrap it up early today. He nodded and it was clear the conversation was over.

“I’ll say goodbye to Grogu one on my way out if you don’t mind.” Din nodded again, the exhaustion making him less and less prone to words. He just wanted Karga out of his hair, but the thing was that he knew how much the boy loved the older man, and he wouldn’t be the one denying his son that joy because he was exasperated with his agent.

“Send him here when you leave.”

Din had been cleaning up the mess for a while when heard the main door of the studio closing, and immediately after a familiar pair of eyes stuck out of the doorframe of the patio.

“Ah?” The toddler ran clumsily towards Din, who bent to his level to reach for him.

“Hi buddy, did you have fun in the garden?” The little one squeaked in delight while Din picked him up. That happy sound probably meant the frogs in the pond had trouble today. Din laughed softly, forgetting all his preoccupations. The instant Grogu was lifted, his little hands were occupied with removing his dad’s welding mask. “You don’t like this, uh?”

Din then discarded the mask and put it apart, and the next second the toddler had his dirty hands all over his face. The little one was always mesmerized by his moustache and nose especially and traced them in awe. Din couldn’t stop smiling, the little fingers made his skin tickle and the interest of the boy in his face was amusing.

“Let’s get those little claws cleaned and have dinner, shall we?” Grogu cooed, always excited by the prospect of food, and both of them spent the rest of the afternoon cooking together, which meant Grogu trying to eat all the eggs raw and asking Din to put blue colourant inside the broth. When Grogu’s little belly was full enough it meant he would be sleepy soon. They had been playing on the sofa Din had in the studio, and the toddler was now snoring softly over Din’s chest. The sculptor took advantage of the quiet to think about Karga’s idea. If more exposure meant more moments like this with the womp-rat… Dank Farrik, It was worth it. Everything was worthy for the little one.

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