annwrites24

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hey there

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Everyone should read their own fanfics recreationally tbh this shit fucking rules. It's like the author knows exactly what I like.

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dear lord, please take all life problems and responsibilities away from fanfic writers but also make them financially stable and happy with nothing to worry about so they can happily focus on writing and posting fanfiction. amen

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Biting your girl's inner thighs when you're done eating her out is the way

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Also, he’s not even mad. He’s shocked, and scared, but he’s not angry at Mayfeld for putting everything, including his life AND his kids future, in jeopardy, because he gets it. He’s been listening to mayfelds snippy remarks about not being a stormtrooper and how everyone is just trying to survive, so he understands why mayfeld had to do it.

thinking about the believer again and the face din makes after mayfeld shoots valin hess is fucking KILLING me

tha mandalorian was too stunned to spEAK

This will never not be funny because it proves that Din makes faces like this at people all the time underneath his helmet

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Do you ever read a fic so interesting you want behind the scenes lore, ten pinterest moodboards and one of those fancy .gif edits but none of that exists bc it's a fanfic?

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Stop help me 🙏😭

This is the last of the flour left and we have no flour. Please help me and my sisters 😭😭

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🆂🆃🅰🆁🆅🅰🆃🅸🅾🅽 ⚰

From the heart of unimaginable suffering, I want to sincerely thank everyone who has supported my family 🙏🏻

Right now, famine is hitting us harder than ever, my heart cries whenever I go to the market to buy any basic necessities! The prices are crazy, and most days my children survive on just bread Hunger and thirst are destroying us, and cooking on fire increases our suffering unbearably! Severe eye and chest sensitivity, in addition to constant stomach pain due to the type of food and the way it is cooked.

All this while we flee from one place to another in fear of bombing, bullets, and imminent danger! I cannot describe what I feel, but it is a feeling beyond exhaustion!

Despite the exhaustion, your support gives us strength and I hope you will not let us down

If you can donate, please do so, or at least help us by sharing, so we can reach those who can

Your kindness truly keeps us going

>> Our campaign is vetted by gazavetters list at Momen & his family

Gaza is full of oppression #The worst is yet to come #Genocide #A resilient people

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🕊️ Please Take a Moment to Read Nadin’s Story

My name is Nadin. I never imagined I would write something like this. I’ve always been someone who kept her worries quiet, someone who believed that even the hardest days could be endured with patience and faith. But right now, I am reaching out — not because I want to, but because I need to.

I am a wife, a mother, and one of many women in Gaza trying to survive days that feel like they have no end. There was a short time — a brief ceasefire — where we thought things might start to heal. Where the sound of war faded for just long enough to let us breathe. But that moment is gone now, and the fear has returned louder than before.

My days are filled with uncertainty, and my nights with prayer. We have lost so much. Our home was damaged, our sense of safety taken from us. But through all of this, I try to keep going. I try to hold on to what little peace I can create with my hands, my words, and my love.

I am not asking for much. Just a little help to keep our lives from falling further apart. To fix the small things — a cracked wall, a leaking roof, the pieces of daily life that help us hold on to dignity.

This campaign isn’t just about survival. It’s about holding on to what makes us human in a place that keeps trying to take that away. It’s about showing my daughter — even though I won’t mention her name here — that the world didn’t forget us.

If you’ve ever felt powerless in the face of suffering, please know that even the smallest gesture can carry great meaning. A kind word. A shared post. A quiet donation. These things remind us that we’re not alone.

I am still here. Still holding on. Still believing that people out there — people like you — still care.

Please, if you feel moved, consider supporting or sharing this campaign.

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My Journey to Escape the War in Gaza

My name is Abdelmajed. I never imagined I’d be sharing my story like this, but life in Gaza has become unbearable. I am a survivor of the war here, and in the blink of an eye, everything I once knew—my home, my safety, my community—was ripped away from me.

The war has transformed Gaza into a graveyard of broken dreams. The buildings that once stood as symbols of life and resilience are now piles of rubble. Every corner is filled with the echoes of explosions. Every moment is shrouded in uncertainty. There is no security. There is no stability. There is no light at the end of the tunnel.

Basic needs have become luxuries. Food is scarce. Clean water is even scarcer. Hospitals are overwhelmed and under-resourced, and there is almost no medical care to be found. Every night, families go to bed hungry, praying they’ll wake up to see another day. The cost of basic necessities has skyrocketed, and it’s become a daily battle just to survive.

I’ve seen things I never thought possible—standing in long lines for a piece of bread, rationing every drop of water, and watching my people suffer in silence. I have lost everything—my home, my safety, my dignity.

Escape from Gaza is my only hope, but it’s almost impossible without financial help. The cost of evacuation is far beyond my means, and without support, I’m trapped in a warzone with no way out.

I’m reaching out to you now, in the hopes that someone, anyone, can help. I am not asking for luxury. I am asking for a chance—just a chance—to live. A chance to escape this never-ending cycle of fear, destruction, and loss. A chance to rebuild my life somewhere safe, where I can begin again, where I can find hope once more.

Any amount you can give will help me get closer to safety. Even the smallest donation will make a difference—it could be the lifeline I need to survive. If you are unable to donate, please share my story. The more people who hear it, the better the chance that I can find the support I desperately need.

Your kindness and support mean the world to me. You’re not just helping me escape a war; you’re giving me a chance to live, to rebuild, to breathe again.

Thank you for listening. Thank you for caring.

Vetted by @gazavetters

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🌸 From One Mother’s Heart – Please Read 🌸

My name is Saja. I’m a wife, a mother, and a woman who once believed her story would be simple. I thought my days would be filled with watching my daughter grow — from her first smile to her first steps — surrounded by the small joys of everyday life.

But life had other plans.

War has returned to our home. Again. And once again, we find ourselves living under skies that never seem to rest.

There was a moment — a fragile, breathless moment — when the bombs paused and the world seemed to remember us. It gave us hope. We thought maybe, just maybe, we could start to rebuild. But now, we are back in the dark — hiding, holding on, praying.

I’m writing this not as someone seeking pity, but as a mother who has no other choice but to speak.

Imagine holding your baby in the middle of the night, not because she cried, but because the world outside roared too loud for either of you to sleep. Imagine whispering bedtime stories not to lull her into dreams, but to keep the fear from settling into her tiny bones.

This is my life.

This is my daughter’s life.

And even now — especially now — I believe in softness. I believe in kindness. Because when everything else is taken from you, hope becomes the most valuable thing you have.

Why I’m Reaching Out Our home has been damaged. Our lives changed. But through it all, my daughter wakes up every morning with a smile. She reaches for me with trust, with love, with faith that I will keep her safe.

That’s why I keep going.

I’ve launched a campaign to ask for help — not because it’s easy, but because silence is no longer an option. I am asking for support not just for me, but for my baby, and for the quiet strength of so many mothers like me who are fighting, every single day, to hold their families together.

How You Can Help: 🤍 Help us restore parts of our home so we can live with dignity 🤍 Support women and mothers in Gaza with access to care and resources 🤍 Keep the light of hope alive for a generation born in the shadows of war

💛 If you can, please support our journey here:

If you can’t give, please consider sharing. Your voice might be the reason someone else hears ours.

From My Heart to Yours Maybe our lives are worlds apart. Maybe you’ve never lived through war. But if you’ve ever held a child and wished the world could be better for them — then you understand more than you know.

I don’t want my daughter to grow up thinking the world turned away.

Please, if you’ve read this far — thank you. Thank you for seeing us. Thank you for caring. We are still here. Still hoping. Still holding on to every kind act like it’s a lifeline.

With love and endless gratitude

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Omg GUESS who is starting Star Wars: outlaws today????

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Space Girls

All my fics are 18+ and tagged with content and trigger warnings on Ao3. Please remember that only you are responsible for the content you consume.

Convincing you to read my fics based on the traits the FMC inherited from me (tag yourself and let's all learn too much about each other):

Poppy got my:

Depression

Haircut

Spit kink

You can read about her encounter with the Mandalorian in the arena on Colosseum station in Those About to Die (formerly The Gladiator).

INS!FMC, who is still nameless after 240,000 words, got my:

Identity crisis

Abandonment issues

Exhibitionist kink

You can read about her journey across the galaxy with the Mandalorian and his child in In the Stars.

Isha got my:

anger issues

hip dips

breeding kink

You can read about her life as the arranged bride of the mysterious Mand'alor in Blood is Always Paid.

Mara got my:

Speech patterns/swearing

neuroses

pain kink

You can read about her time with the Mandalorian before he met the child, and about their reunion years later, in Before and After (Coming May 4th, 2025)

Not sure who you're most like? Take this quiz to find out!

All my fics try to avoid physical traits, to offer the reader as blank of a slate as possible, (unless otherwise specified in the main fic description) but I do occasionally miss things when editing. If you catch them, feel free to shoot me a message and lmk so I can fix it!

[annwrites24]

Intro and Master List

Hello! I'm Ann, and this blog is mostly an archive of fics I like, and me shouting into the void about the process of writing fanfiction. This blog and all my content are 18+ only.

What Do I Write?

Well, I'm so glad you asked! It's all Mando smut, at least so far. I concentrate on long-form stories, usually 50k+ words, which are always posted to my AO3 account. They are all written in second-person POV, and while I always try my best to keep my Reader Insert Characters physically neutral, all my FMCS have different personalities and backgrounds, which affect their relationships with the canon characters they meet. Individual content tags/warnings for each fic can be found at each link.

You can find links to my works under the cut! Not sure what you should read? Take this quiz to find out which of my characters you are most like!

Completed:

Best Bet: 1 part, 2k words.

My entry for the penivisions' Give A Little Love Challenge, April 2025. Crossposted to A03 for navigation purposes.

Those About to Die: 10 chapters, 45k words.

You are Poppy, resident slave on the Colosseum station, famous for its broadcasts of incredible gladiatorial feats and its yearly tournament, all organized and run by your master, Nero. When a stranger arrives and demands to be allowed to compete, Nero assigns you to work with him, in the hopes that you will be able to keep him under strict control.

Dincember Challenge: 25 parts, 10k words.

Cross-posted to my Tumblr, December 2024. Originally written for dindjarindiaries' Dincember 2024 challenge. A collection of short vignettes/scenes.

In Progress:

Blood is Always Paid: 15 chapters, 80k words. (currently on hiatus)

Raised as a servant to your half-sister, you find yourself engaged to the king of a long-dead warrior race to keep the peace between your two peoples.

In The Stars: 83 chapters, 263k words.

You are in danger, and Din Djarin can't help but intervene.

Upcoming:

Before and After: 30 chapters, 101k words. First chapter coming Sunday, May 4th!

A note on fanfiction and AI: I work very hard to draft, develop, and edit my writing into works that people will enjoy, without the help or involvement of AI or Chatbots. I ask that my readers enjoy my work in the same spirit. I do not consent to my work, in whole or in part, being input into any AI or Chatbot service for any reason, or under any circumstances.

[annwrites24]

Best Bet

Summary: You make a bet with Mando. (Mando x gn!reader)

Rating: T, but my blog and all my content are strictly 18+!

Tags: Established relationship, target practice, Sexual Tension TM, Mando talks you through firing a blaster and he does it REAL sexy

This is my submission for @penvisions Give a Little Love Challenge! A big thank you to Dev for organizing this! You can find more amazing work from this challenge here.

"You're getting better."

You lower your blaster with a frown, squint into the distance, and then turn to face Mando, who is leaning against the wall of the canyon. He's studying your stance as you try, for what feels like the millionth time, to refine your aim. You've been shooting down the canyon about a hundred yards, at a small outcropping of stacked stones acting as your targets for the day. They're too far away for you to check yourself, but Mando can judge through his helmet if you've hit your targets after every round.

"I doubt it. I don't think I was even close on that last one."

Mando straightens up, adjusting the settings in his helmet and then points down the canyon toward the targets. "You keep missing on the third. You can't get past the second one in front; you keep clipping the side."

You huff with frustration. "So I am hitting it, just not totally?"

"No," Mando says calmly, offering a slow shake of his head. "If you don't hit your target dead on, you've missed. It's the difference between an enemy who is dead and an enemy who is still coming at you."

You roll your eyes at his lecture. "Easy, Mandalorian. I'll keep trying."

You turn to take aim for another attempt, but after a few moments, you lower your blaster again. He's probably right; you had a feeling you were missing on the third target. You've already tried to correct it, and nothing seems to work. Maybe your blaster needs to be tuned up? You flip it over, checking for anything obviously out of place, but find nothing, and raise it again with a frustrated sigh.

"Can I help?"

Mando's voice over your shoulder catches you off guard, and you whip your head around to find him now right behind you. Still annoyed by your own lack of progress, you hold your blaster out, offering it to him.

"You try it then," you grumble.

Mando accepts your blaster, and you step aside, waving for him to get on with it. At least this way, you'll get to see if your blaster is working properly. With all the fancy features of his helmet, Mando can make these shots in his sleep. You watch with crossed arms and a sour expression, which you're fighting to hide as Mando takes his stance and raises your blaster. He spends about three seconds taking aim, fires off five shots in quick succession, and then lowers the blaster.

"I hit them," he says earnestly, and you snort.

"Yeah, I know you did," you whine, but you still smile. Mando is charming in his own awkward way. "It's a lot easier for you with your helmet."

"I didn't use my helmet."

"Somehow, I don't believe that," you scold him. You thought you were being friendly, but Mando takes the accusation seriously; you can tell by how he hangs his head.

"I can make those shots without my helmet," he insists. "And I bet you can, too, if you keep trying.

"I'll take that bet," you groan. "I've been trying for hours." It might sound like whining, but it's true; you've been camped out in the canyon since last night, and Mando shook you awake the second the fog burned off to practice. You're hoping he might take pity on you and at least let you take a break, but he's been very insistent that you be capable of protecting yourself if you're going to travel with him.

Mando clears his throat through his helmet. "I'll go first, then. Close your eyes."

"What?" You frown at his suspicious request. "You're not gonna shoot an apple off my head or something, are you?"

"No." Mando holds the blaster out to you, and you accept it reflexively. "Close your eyes," he repeats.

"What are you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna make the shots without my helmet, and then I'm gonna show you how to make them, too."

You swallow hard, like suddenly the cool, damp air at the bottom of the canyon is too thick to squeeze down your throat. Mando does not, under any circumstances, take his helmet off. He's killed people just for asking. But of course, you close your eyes, still holding your blaster out to him for when he's ready.

You work very hard not to listen as he removes his helmet and sets it down somewhere. Is it rude to listen? It feels rude, but it's not like you can hear what he looks like. You flinch a little when you feel him take the blaster from your hands. With nothing to hold, your hands fall to your sides as you listen to Mando shuffling in the dirt to take aim. You count down in your head: three, two, one. Five shots ring out, and with your eyes closed, you can hear them echo around the canyon. You hear him groan softly when he bends down to reclaim his helmet.

"All clear." Mando's voice is filtered again, and you take a chance to open your eyes. He's holding the blaster out to you, and when you hesitate, he waves you closer. "C'mon. I'll show you."

You eye him suspiciously, but what do you have to lose? He can't possibly make your aim any worse. You accept the weapon and take his place to aim, and Mando steps back with his arms folded, clearly studying your stance again. You try not to let it bother you as you raise the blaster.

"I thought you were gonna show me how," you remind him, and Mando clears his throat awkwardly.

"Can I… touch you? To adjust your stance," he adds quickly. For some reason, he sounds embarrassed. Truthfully, you hadn't thought anything of the question until he got flustered, but now your cheeks are getting warm as you nod.

"Yeah. That's fine."

Mando steps behind you and touches your arm to adjust your angle by a hair, his touch so light you only register it after it's gone. You can hear him breathing through his helmet.

"You need to hold steady. You're overcorrecting after the second shot," Mando says softly, and his voice seems to echo more sharply than the shots he fired. "You're worried about clipping the fourth target, so you're not panning far enough to the right."

Everything Mando is saying is correct; the third target is behind the second and the fourth, and you need to aim for a four-inch space between them to hit the third. He's right about your overcorrection and about your unsteady hands. You want to speak up in your own defence; he's making you very nervouswith his hovering.

"So what do I do?" you mean it to come out frustrated; he can tell you what you're doing wrong, but not how to fix it; but your voice is too soft.

"Take a deep breath. Slow your heartbeat down."

You inhale sharply and then feel a firm hand in the middle of your back. Behind you, Mando takes a long, slow breath through his helmet. His exhale crackles through his filters next to your ear.

"No, not sharp like that. Slow."

You try again. You breathe deep and try to exhale nice and slow, and you even try closing your eyes for a moment to focus on filling your lungs. Mando's hand is still on your back, warm even through his leather gloves. The feeling grounds you, and you breathe deep again and relax enough for your heart rate to slow slightly.

"You've seen the target," Mando encourages you. Staring down the dark stone walls of the canyon, shivering in the afternoon shade, his voice warms your skin until you hope his helmet can't tip him off. "You know exactly where they are. Picture it."

"O-Okay." You can see them in your mind, arrayed in a 'V' formation pointing down the canyon. You can see the third target, the one at the point, the one you keep missing.

"Deep breath in to take aim, hold, and fire," he says softly, like it's the easiest thing in the world; as if by outlining it for you, he can lend you his instincts, his years of training and experience.

You were the one who had set the targets. You know how far apart they are, and you know where the V formation overlaps. You do as Mando ordered, and take a deep, slow breath as you raise your blaster and take aim. When your lungs are full, you pause and fire your five shots. You drop your blaster and squint into the distance at the wisp of smoke rising down the canyon.

"How'd I do?" you call over to Mando, who's leaning against the canyon wall behind you again.

"Good."

You frown at him. "How good?"

"Let's go see."

It has to be good, or else he wouldn't be hiking all the way down to the canyon. Or, more accurately, he wouldn't be making you hike down the canyon. Mando leads the way, and you follow him to the ledge, and he pauses partway up the ridge to help you up. You stop on the ledge, where you set the targets, and Mando points to the middle.

"Right on," Mando announces, and he sounds proud.

You follow his gaze to confirm it: you hit all five targets, dead on. The scorch marks are still warm. It actually worked. You grin at Mando.

"Thanks. Now I just have to remember to pause and breathe nice and slow the next time I'm in a gunfight."

Mando laughs softly. "It gets easier with practice."

"Not sure I want that practice, but…" You clear your throat. "Thanks. Your advice really worked."

Mando just shrugs. "I know what I'm talking about."

"Lucky me."

Mando climbs down off the ledge first and pauses to help you down before heading back to where his ship is parked. You glance up overhead for the first time in hours and figure it's nearly evening, at least guessing by the shadows. You'd spent nearly a full day camped out here, practicing your aim.

Mando pauses ahead of you and glances back. "I won."

"You won what?"

"The bet." He sounds very pleased with himself. "I bet that you could do it, you accepted. I won."

You roll your eyes, even though he can't see you; maybe he'll feel it. "Yeah, alright, fine. You win. What do you want?"

"I'll think of something."

You shudder. The Mandalorian's tone makes you consider running away just to see if he'd chase after you. You aren't sure why that's your first thought, but it is. In just a few words, you're being hunted. You shake the thought away.

"I don't have much worth asking for," you warn him. "It's not like you need my blaster. So, what do you want?" You catch up to him when he slows down. "Want me to admit you're good even without the helmet?"

"I don't need you to admit anything," Mando says matter-of-factly, and then he pauses. You continue walking; you can see his ship now, but the fog is creeping back over the edges of the canyon now that the sun is low, cloaking the gunmetal grey. Mando is still waiting behind you when you finally stop and turn to face him.

"What's wrong?" You call back to him softly, and he cocks his head before stepping a little closer.

"Close your eyes."

You raise your eyebrows at him. "Is this the bet? Some kind of…" you trail off. A trust thing, maybe? Your heart flutters a little, for a reason you can't quite name, and then you nod.

"Alright. They're closed," you announce softly as you let your eyes fall closed. You can hear Mando stepping closer, his heavy boots crunching on the ground. You hear him stop short a few feet away and clear your throat. "Is that all you wanted? Not a great prize, but—"

"No."

Oh, he's taken his helmet off. When did he do that? Why did he do that? Maybe you're about to find out.

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Log back in for the first time in ages to go through some shit only to find that my whole inbox is gone??? Anyways, sorry if I missed anything anyone sent, idk what happened!!!