#the only ones I'd care to see are the Bridgers or Din's clan
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I keep seeing people post their predictions for season 2, but since I know so many spoilers already from that one person on Twitter, it’s hard talking about certain things LOL
buuuuut I guess I’ll join in anyway since there’s still a lot we don’t know yet!
✨my predictions for TBB season 2✨
the first two episodes happen simultaneously. first episode is from TBB’s perspective, the second is about Crosshair (and Cody!)
the heist that happens in the first episode will either go really well or really poorly. either way, whatever happens, it’s going to impact TBB in a huge way and probably impact their relationship with Cid as well
it’s already been stated by several people (including Dee Bradley Baker himself) that Crosshair is going to go through a HUGE character arc that will greatly impact him and his future. it’s gonna involve him questioning his place in the Empire, akin to Kallus in Rebels, and he’ll probably have an entire Zuko arc that involves him being on his own for a while
Omega is gonna get into a fight with one of the boys that causes her to run off and something happens to her that the boys have to rescue her from
Echo is gonna leave TBB to be with Rex. I really really REALLY don’t want this to happen, but it feels like it will. and I will be very upset about it 🙃
Gungi will be the only one of the younglings from that group that we see, but we find out what happened to the others regardless (hopefully they’re ok 🥺)
the racing episode is gonna be a game changer for Tech in terms of his character. Dee Bradley Baker already said it’s one of his favorite episodes of the season. Tech’s gonna get to show off his skills in a fantastic way. I feel like the whole thing is going to be a reference to TPM where something happens during the race that makes us think Tech is gonna lose, but then he pulls it together in the end and wins \o/
Cody is either going to die in the most heartbreaking but satisfying way possible, or he’s gonna pull a Gregor where everybody thinks he’s dead, but we the audience get to see that he’s ok. either way, this will be one of the things that changes things for Crosshair AND Rex going forward
we’re gonna see more stuff akin to the hobo Clone in Kenobi. since the Clones have already pretty much been phased out by this point, we’re gonna see them struggling to survive or suffering from the effects of the Empire in some manner
whatever is going on with Nala Se is related to the Palpatine Clones. the producers hinted that there will be connections with the weird lab stuff we saw in The Mandalorian, so weird Clone stuff is absolutely going to happen
we’re going to finally learn what is so special about Omega cause LOL it’s not just that she’s a “pure” Clone. I’m still of the firm belief that she’s Force sensitive, and it’s because she has Palaptine’s influence in her (which is why she has his exact hair!!!)
we’re also gonna learn more about TBB and what they went through in Nala Se’s lab. there’s a reason Omega was so upset seeing those creatures in the tubes in episode 9. SHE KNOWS THINGS
this is more so a desire than a prediction but... I want Crosshair to punch the living daylights out of Rampart, just freaking send him to another planet. just shooting and killing him would work too ROFL
Plan 99 is gonna involve TBB and Crosshair having to work together to accomplish something, along with the rest of the Clones Rex has gathered. which hopefully will include Wolffe by that point! I wanna see Wolffe dang it! 😤
and that’s all I got for now!✨
#the bad batch#star wars the bad batch#tbb season 2#I didn't directly mention anything related to spoilers I know; don't worry#also idk about cameos and frankly idc#the only ones I'd care to see are the Bridgers or Din's clan#or more Cad Bane and Fennic of course#I'm happy with just Gungi and Bail Organa honestly#we'll see what happens after tomorrow I guess!!#AAAAAAAAAAAA#star warz
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Graceland Too (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)
A/N: Hi everyone!!! Wowowow am I active this week LOL (fyi this is a re-upload. Decided to proofread one more time bc I uploaded at like 2AM last night). Here is a little sick fic I wrote for my friend who isn’t feeling too great (hope you’re feeling okay <3). The fic is heavily based around “Graceland Too” by Phoebe Bridgers but it is also inspired by “oh baby” by LCD Soundsystem. Highly suggest giving those a listen. Anyway, requests are open. Enjoy!
Summary: You’re terribly sick, but one night and one fever dream might just change everything for you and Din.
Warnings: SMUT! 18+, Praise kink (imo at least), oral (f!receiving), fingering, reader is sick, Jedi!Reader (it’s like I only know how to write Din x Jedi!readers I stg), idiots/friends to lovers, pining, mentions of death/major violence (canon typical I'd say), cursing, probably some grammar stuff....that’s it I think.
Word Count: 3,018
The wind is cold as it slices you in half, but you feel overwhelmingly hot, clammy even. Sweat dribbles down your forehead as you tread across the rocks beneath your feet. Blaster shots ring out in the distance.
You struggle to pick up your pace, your boots sticking to the ground as you try to put one foot in front of the other.
“Mando!” You call out, remembering not to use his real name. Fog covers the ground, filling the air at an excruciatingly quick rate. You’d never be able to find him in this. You call out to him again, but there’s no answer. You’d take a grunt or even a groan at this point.
Then there’s a disembodied, brittle voice coming from behind you.
“Looking for him?” It’s grating, nasally. You’d recognize it anywhere.
You turn around frantically, practically giving yourself whiplash.
“Bo Katan.” Your voice is low, hushed. Din’s body is limp on the ground, being held up on his knees by the woman in front of you. There’s a smirk on her face. She has the darksaber in her hand…
And it’s at Din’s throat.
“Let him go,” You plead. You go to grab your lightsaber, a blaster, something, anything at your utility belt, but there’s nothing there. You have no defense, just your words. “You got what you came for, you have the darksaber.”
She scoffs, shaking her head, her smirk widening. “I haven’t finished the job yet. I still have to kill you and your Mandalorian.”
Your eyes widen with fear, blurring with tears. “No please, please don’t hurt him.” Your voice croaks as you choke back sobs.
“Too late.” She moves the darksaber from his throat, plunging it into his chest with one fatal swoop.
“DIN!” You scream, crashing down to your knees next to him.
“I’m here mesh’la…” He whispers, but it doesn’t sound like he’s next to you, he’s somewhere off in the distance. His husky voice calls out your name.
“I’m right here.” He repeats himself. Your eyes force themselves open as you shove your palms into the bed to push yourself up. You almost hit your head on the top of the bunk in the process, but Din stops you before you can, his cold, gloved hands coming up to your shoulders. “It was just a nightmare.” His voice is honeyed, gentle.
You look to your left to see him standing at your side, armor off, helmet on.
“M’sorry,” You mutter, rubbing your eyes. You feel like absolute shit, worse than yesterday. Your skin is so hot that it threatens to burn a hole in Din’s gloves. You choke down a cough, the sensation vibrating painfully against your already pounding head. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
You had been sick for a few days now, and Din was doing everything by himself: the ship’s maintenance, the flying, the hunting, taking care of Grogu, and taking care of you. Now, to make matters worse, you had woken him up. You know he doesn’t get enough rest to begin with. You feel like a burden – and not just in this moment, always. You were a danger to yourself, to Din, to Grogu; a force wielding ex-Jedi, ex-Empire captive wanted by anyone and everyone. And yet, he had let you into his little clan of two with open arms. Now he was here, caring for you. You could’ve gone home, made a place for yourself in the New Republic, continued your Jedi training, but you didn’t.
You met Din. And you felt so, so guilty for the repercussions of your meeting.
You part your lips, ready to usher him back to bed, to apologize again. But Din doesn’t leave room for you to protest. “Don’t apologize, please.” He shushes you, taking off a glove and pressing the back of his hand against your forehead. You hum lightly under his touch. He feels like ice against your blazingly hot skin.
“Your hand…” You trail off, struggling to speak, “feels good.”
Your hoarse voice sounds like nothing more than a set of incoherent mumblings, but Din seems to understand every syllable. He chuckles shortly and softly, as if the laugh was only meant to be heard by you. “That’s ‘cause you’re warmer now than you were yesterday.” He flips his hand over so that his palm rests against your skin. His forefingers and thumb rub gently at your temples, working tirelessly at your raging headache.
With his free hand, he reaches down for something you can’t quite see. Seconds later he’s holding two pills in front of your face. You immediately take them from him, no questions asked. Whatever it was, you’d take it. This was absolutely unbearable, and the constant fever dreams certainly didn’t help. You swallow the pills with no hesitation, and Din brings a metal cup to your lips.
“Drink,” is all he says, and you do. You take the cup from his hands, the cold water rushing down your throat, temporarily easing the pain you feel there. Din apprehensively settles his arm on your waist. “This okay?” He asks, a slight shake in his voice. You nod in response, smiling appreciatively.
“Thank you,” You whisper, tilting your head to the side with affection. You swallow harshly, clearing your throat. “You can go back to sleep now if you want. I’ll be okay.”
But Din doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t move at all. He ignores your permission to leave completely. “What dream did you have this time?”
You shudder, remembering what you had seen just moments ago. Din instantly takes account of the look on your face, his grip on your waist tightening, stabilizing you, keeping you tethered to reality – to him.
You draw in a deep breath, practically coughing up your lungs in the process. “Bo Katan, s-she,” You stutter, your eyes shutting tightly in between words. You could still see it. It was ingrained in your brain, burnt into the grooves, sowed in between every empty space. You can still feel her. It was so real. “She had the darksaber and she…” But you can’t finish. Your vision is blurry, your surroundings morphing into an amalgamation of streaks of light and grey metallic colors. You blink and a few cool tears drip down your searing cheeks.
“Hey,” Din coos, his helmet inching closer towards your face, his hands still glued around your waist and atop your forehead. “I’ve got you now. It was just a nightmare. Nothing’s gonna hurt you, mesh’la, nothing.”
You cough out a laugh. “Nothing except a red-haired Mandalorian and whatever this fever is.”
But Din shakes his head. “Not if I can help it.” It isn’t until those words fall from his lips that you realize how close he is to you, how intimate this moment is. His armor is long gone, and you can see the outline of his muscles in his shoulders and arms, his deltoids, his triceps, underneath his flight suit.
“I would…” He trails off, a tremble obviously present in his voice. His confidence has completely disappeared. The vulnerability of the moment makes your head spin faster than it already is. You watch his chest rise and fall, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. You hear him suck in a sharp breath through his vocoder. “I would do anything for you.”
Anything. He would do anything? For you?
Your heart beats rapidly, threatening to combust against your ribs as Din’s hand on your forehead slides down to your cheek. You’ve forgotten your fever at this point, forgotten your headache, your sore throat. All you feel now is Din, his thumb grazing against your cheek, his fingers ghosting along the exposed slit of skin between the hemline of your shirt and the waistline of your shorts.
You want to keep him here, to ask him to hang on to you all night long, but you don’t know if you have the courage to ask. You close your eyes, inhaling through your nose, gathering your words before they spill from your lips. “Would you…” Your voice fades out, evaporating into silence, unable to finish your sentence.
“Anything,” Din’s modulated voice echoes against the walls of the bunk. “Say the word and it’s yours. Whatever you want, cyare.”
Fuck. He really means anything. Whatever you want.
“Would you stay…with me?” It’s a garbled, incomprehensible mess of a question, but as always, Din knows what’s on your mind better than you do.
Din nods immediately. “Of course.” It’s short, but certainly not curt. Those two words say far more than what they mean. “I have to let go of you for just a second, but I’ll be right back, I promise.” Ever the caretaker, Din Djarin. Eternally putting others before himself. It makes your heart pang in your chest, your breath catching in your throat.
He hesitates a moment before finally letting go of you, his hands brushing over your skin for a few extra seconds, stealing time that had already been borrowed. He slips deeper into the hull. You hear him press a few buttons in the distance, and then with a sudden flick, the lights of the hull go out. Darkness fills the room, and you can hear Din shuffling back towards the bunk.
There’s a click and a hiss, and then the sound of metal falling onto metal. Din had taken his helmet off. It wasn’t the first time he had done this. You occasionally found yourself in his bunk, clinging to him for warmth when you were on a particularly cold planet or when the Crest’s heating system had broken down, but it was rare.
“Should you keep it on?” You ask as Din pushes the covers of the bed down. You feel the mattress dip as he slides into the bunk. “I’m still sick, you know.” The last thing you wanted was to make Din feel the way you feel right now. You didn’t want him to get hurt. You had to protect him, too.
You don’t realize how close he is to you until you feel his breath fan across your lips. “No.” It’s a whisper, barely audible. “Wanna make you feel safe.”
“But-,”
He cuts you off. “It’s worth the risk.”
You were worth the risk.
The darkness isn’t so scary when he’s next to you. You close your eyes, listening closely to his unmodulated breaths. His arm snakes up your body, coming to rest around your waist, in the exact spot he was in before.
“Din?” You call out in the darkness. You inch forward a bit, unexpectedly bumping your nose into his. The sudden touch, the proximity, it’s all becoming too much for you to bear.
“Yes, cyare?” His voice is husky, low, rough.
You can’t even remember what it was you were going to ask him. All you can think about is how close he is, how his fingers graze over your stomach, how his breath ghosts over your cheeks, how much you want him to kiss you.
Maker, you want him to kiss you. Would he if you asked him to? Was that under the category of, anything?
“Cyare?” He’s concerned. You can hear it in the way the pet name plays on his lips, hanging around in the air longer than normal.
“I-I,” You stutter. Was now really the time to do this, to confess your feelings to Din? “I don’t know what to say.” It was true, maybe a little too true. “I just, I like you Din.”
He chuckles. Maker, it sounds so much better without his helmet. “I like you too, cyar’ika.” He’s unserious, carefree.
“No,” You mumble. You feel like a child, a padawan once again, not knowing how to communicate or to feel. “Not like that. M-more than that.” You wish you could see the look on his face, to gauge what he was feeling.
Silence takes hold of the bunk. Shit. Too much. Too much too soon. I shouldn’t have-
And then, like always, Din reads your mind. His lips come crashing down onto yours. The kiss is reckless, frenzied, deep. He molds against you, as if he was always meant to fit here. You almost regret not doing something sooner. You think, maybe you’ve wasted valuable time that you could’ve already spent with this side of him. But you know you’ve lived through everything you’ve been through, just to get to this very moment, to feel his lips taking yours, his tongue sliding along your lower lip, seeking permission to explore more of you. You part your mouth, gladly accepting his invitation.
His hand at your waist travels lower, resting along the inside of your thigh. You moan against his lips at the touch. You can feel your wetness growing between your legs, the pulsing of your core. You instinctively try to press your thighs together, searching for some sort of friction, but Din stops you, using his hand to keep your legs spread wide for him.
His fingers tread achingly slow up your inner thigh, teasing you, his nails softly scratching against your exposed skin. Din’s hand finally lands on top of your clothed cunt, his thumb tracing circles into the overly sensitive spot. You’re trembling under his touch as he presses harder into where you need him most.
“S-shit,” You mutter. “Feels s-so good.”
Din swallows harshly. “Wanna taste you, mesh’la. Bet you taste so good.” Desire coats his voice. His hand slips away from your heat and you groan at the loss of contact. He finds the waistline of your shorts, tugging a bit, searching for permission.
“Please, wanna feel you,” You whimper. And that’s all he needs. Din drags your shorts and panties down your legs. You’re not sure where they end up, but you can’t be bothered to care.
Din presses light kisses against your inner thigh, his stubble scratching lightly against your skin, until he finally reaches your core. His tongue begins to explore your folds, pushing through before finally settling on your clit.
“D-Din!” You cry out as he takes the sensitive bud into his mouth, sucking roughly. “Fuck, feels s’good.” Your words slur and your eyes blur as he laps at you.
“Tastes so good, so fucking sweet.” The vibrations of Din’s voice against your clit pushes you closer to the edge. You were already practically there.
He brings a finger to your folds, spreading your slick before sinking deep inside of you. The sensation coaxes a moan from your lips, and Din takes this as a sign to add another finger. He gives you a moment to adjust to him before pulling out and crashing back into you. He’s pushing further inside you as he takes you on his tongue. Nothing else matters, and nothing else will ever be the same.
“Doing so good for me, sweet girl,” He soothes, his tongue swirling around your clit as his fingers thrust in and out of your entrance. “You sound so pretty when you say my name.”
“Din.” It’s a whisper, a plea. More, please, more. “Don’t stop. Fuck.” His free hand glides under your shirt, pushing your bra up and out of the way. He takes a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching lightly, rolling the nub around before switching to the other. He squeezes softly, luring you closer to your breaking point.
“Taking me so good, being such a good girl,” Din groans. You throw your head back against the pillow. His words alone were enough to drive you mad. “Gonna make you come, gonna give you whatever you want, mesh’la.”
His name rolls off your tongue. You’re unsure of where it starts and where it ends, whispering it over and over again like you’re trying to commit this moment to some eternal memory.
His tongue presses harder into your clit, his fingers pumping faster, deeper inside of you. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You were right there, your walls tightening around Din’s fingers.
“Din I’m gonna-,” But it’s impossible to get the words out. You’re a bleating mess underneath him.
“That’s it, come for me, pretty girl. Wanted this for so long,” His praises, his confessions, send you over the edge, searing heat spreading across every inch of your body. “You’re so beautiful, so perfect for me.” You can feel yourself shattering under his touch, your walls fluttering around him.
“F-fuck Din,” You whimper, riding out your high. Din slowly laps at your swollen clit, his fingers gently pumping in and out of you a few more times before pulling out. You feel empty without them. “N-need more. Need to feel you.” You can’t help but beg. It wasn’t enough. You wanted all of him, needed all of him.
“Not tonight, cyar’ika,” Din breathes as he finds his way back next to you. “Don’t wanna push you too far. You’re sick, don’t forget. I promised I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, remember?” There’s a faint laugh in his voice, a certain genuine happiness that you can’t wait to hear more of.
“Tomorrow?” You ask, shifting so that your head rests against his chest.
“As long as you’re feeling better…” He trails off for a second, mulling his words over in his head before continuing, “I’ll do anything you want me to.” You know there’s a smile tugging at his lips, you can hear it. It makes your heart flutter in your chest. “Get some rest, okay?”
You nod your head, nestling even further into him. You wrap a leg around his waist, and he follows suit by wrapping his arms around you.
“Goodnight, Din.”
“Goodnight, mesh’la.”
No longer a danger to herself or others
She made up her mind and laced up her shoes…
Said she knows she lived through it to get to this moment
Ate a sleeve of saltines on my floor, and I knew then
I would do anything you want me to
I would do anything for you
I would do anything, I would do anything
Whatever you want me to do, I will do
I will do anything (whatever you want)
Whatever she wants (whatever you want)
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