drawingdroid

[drawingdroid]

Thank you so much for adding me to the list!!! I’m so flattered, reading and writing for Din Djarin is such an emotional outlet for me. People check out the other fic recommended because they’re great!!!

Pedro character fic rec pt. 4 ⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

Part four! Image by me! The Dins are reading rough day and taking notes btw!

part 1 / part 2 / part 3

As always its Din heavy but this one is PARTICULARLY Din heavy. That man has burrowed into my mind palace in a devious manner.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Din Djarin ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

⟡ Multi-Chapter ⟡

Holding Out For a Hero by colewhip on AO3

Mando is hired to save princess!reader from bandits...but things don't go as planned (no spoilers here). LOOVVE this one and it's still being updated. It's a slow burn and worth the wait!! (the smut is so good too).

Home by @dreadfullyssums

Protective & possessive Din saves you from a bar fight and you save him right back. Fun and smutty, Din is grumpy and I wanna chew on him!!

Brown Eyes by @cowboygenesis

Din & Grogu land on your small planet looking for a place to lie low. A great strangers to friends to lovers story with a shy standoffish Din who warms up beautifully <333

Ice Cold by @e-m-d-m

Din takes your bounty...but might change his mind. Delicious, smutty, semi-slow burn with great fight scenes!!

Five days with Din Djarin by @drawingdroid

Hot two chapter fic where you want Din to fuck your ass and he makes you wait for it 🔥🔥🔥🔥 (some surprisingly soft moments in there too).

killshot by @bogwitchwritesthings

A great traveling with Mando and taking care of the kid fic! Any time a story has Din "acts of service" Djarin I'm locked the fuck in. (Also he's needy and hot). Still being updated on AO3 but 5 great chapters out already :) (you need an AO3 account to read this one).

Never Knew I Needed You by @hapan-in-exile

Incredible 4 chapter prequel to Take the job, Mando (one of my fav fics of all time). Super angsty and gives great insight into this version of Din!!!

Outage by @aenais

Sequel to another one of my favs You're an Idiot, Darling - Starts up right after the end of that story (no spoilers). This story and the one before it is a great example of smut as true emotional intimacy (and like...its also hot).

Touch by @slimybeth69

True voyeur Din finds your NSFW sketchbook and wants to watch you. He is beautifully oblivious and hot in this one!!

⟡ One-shots ⟡

Chrysalis Heart by @kedsandtubesocks

Reader is queen of Naboo and the Mandalorian is her hired bodyguard (swoon!). Some shenanigans ensue & Din is a loyal protector.

Good Team by @drawingdroid

Lovveeee a transmasc!Din and this fic is hot and sweet. Gimme sexy honest communication always!!!

The Little Green Monster by darkknightsrevenge on AO3

Little snapshots of Mando being jealous hehehe. Love to see that man yearn.

Told Before and Told Again by @kiwisbell

Reader has to save damsel in distress Din and runs into a strange powder. You know I EAT UP a sex pollen fic and this one slaps!

Silent Genesis by @sp00kymulderr

Voyeur Din is so special to me bc like...of course he wants to watch! That man is so not used to physical touch. This fic is so hot. Need him.

Adrenaline by honestly_shite on AO3

This ones freaky y'all (of the Wookie fucking variety)! Threesome with Din and Black Krrsantan set after the end of TBOBF.

Take a Hint by @vingtetunmars

Sweet beloved miscommunication with bad-with-words Din. And I always love a shamelessly flirty reader!!! Fluffy and sweet.

‧₊˚‎ ♡ Joel Miller ‎♡ ‧₊˚

⟡ Multi-Chapter ⟡

Until the Summer Fades by cheythighs on AO3

23 chapters (so far...) of a banging slow burn DBF fic!!! The last line of the first chapter locked me in so hard I was up until 4am feverishly reading as much as possible.

Forever is the sweetest con by sistersadeyes on AO3

Sweet, fluffy, slow-ish burn set post-outbreak where reader is the daughter of a prepper and lives in a self sufficient home. You get to see Joel find a safe place to stay and it makes my heart break!!!! Let that man be soft!!!!! (He's obsessed with you in this one).

Till Death Do Us Part by @littlcdarlin

The smut in this one...changed me. Tropes galore!!! DBF!Joel!! Fake dating at a family wedding!! You just want somebody to make all of your decisions for you and I fucking get it I'm so goddamn tired.

(warning: the story does mention that Joel knew reader when she was a teenager so if that freaks you out I'd stay away from this!)

From the Ground Up by @ak-vintage

DBF!Joel x OFC. Joel's friend offers you a job in a tough time and you both yearn deliciously!! 5 amazing chapters so far and still being updated :))))

⟡ One-shots ⟡

nice and slow by @joelsknees

A sweet smutty morning hand job ❤️ good soup

Construction Corner with Joel Miller by @for-a-longlongtime

Joel straight up jorkin' it to gay porn in the early 2000s as god intended! (not x reader, some light Tess x Joel)

The Trade by @thatcorporategirlie

Jackson!Joel and Doctor!Reader who is Maria's best friend. Joel is just trying to get a guitar for Ellie's birthday and ends up smitten!!!

⋆˚✿˖° Oberyn Martell ⋆˚✿˖°

party 4 u by @almostempty

Absolutely devastating and hot modern AU based on the Charli song. Love an unreliable narrator reader down!!

Once again shout out to all the incredible fic writers for making fantastic stuff!!!!

Did my best to link & tag everyone correctly but pls let me know if I made any mistakes! Enjoy :)

[drawingdroid]

Happy Father's Day with The Mandalorian :]

Had to doodle the two before the day was over. I love them both <3

[drawingdroid]

i <3 you x reader writers!

i <3 you reader with an intricate personality that's nothing like mine, i <3 you reader with a detailed backstory that has nothing to do with mine, i <3 you reader that would say and do things i would never do, i <3 you reader that is actually the writer's projection, i <3 you reader that isn't me and never will be me, i <3 you reader that i get to self-insert into and finish the fic and love it just the same as i would if the reader was very similar to me, i <3 you reader that the fic is centered about more than the character, i <3 you reader like you are the character the fic is about, i <3 you reader i <3 you reader's fic i <3 you writer for writing reader

[drawingdroid]

Somebody host another Din zine please I am BEGGING YOU I NEED ANOTHER DIN DJARIN ZINE 😭😭😭

[drawingdroid]

Young Boba and Din would have been so chaotic together!

[drawingdroid]

[drawingdroid]

Happy Pride Month 💕💜💙

[drawingdroid]

Pedro Pascal and the age gaps with his on-screen love interests.

I think a lot of what's an "appropriate" age gap, in real life and in fiction. With this year's releases, Materialists and Fantastic 4, where Dakota and Vanessa are considerably younger than Pedro, I kept reflecting on this Hollywood tendency to pair older actors with younger actresses. I've always found that really problematic, like women "expire" at 30 or something. Doing the list below, I had a great surprise, because a lot of Pedro's characters' love interests are in the range of 5 years up or down. I wonder if he thinks about this when he accepts a job.

Anyway, I don't have any conclusion about this, nor have a rigid opinion on what's considered an "appropriate" age gap. The list below contains only de movies/shows I watched, so feel free if you want to add more.

Pedro Pascal and his love interest's age gap on-screen

Materialists (2025) Pedro Pascal (1975) 50, Dakota Johnson (1989)  35 

Age Gap:+14 years

Fantastic 4: First steps (2025) Pedro Pascal (1975) 50, Vanessa Kirby (1988)  37 

Age Gap: +13 years

The uninvited (2024) Pedro Pascal (1975) 49, Elizabeth Reaser (1975)  49 

Age Gap: 0

The Last of Us Season 1 (2023) Pedro Pascal (1975) 48, Anna Torv (1979) 44 

Age Gap: +4 years 

Strange way of life (2023) Pedro Pascal (1975) 48, Ethan Hawke (1970) 

Age Gap: -5 years

The bubble (2022) Pedro Pascal (1975) 47, María Bakalova (1996) 26 

Age Gap: +21 years

Narcos Season 1 (2015) Pedro Pascal (1975) 40, Ana de la Reguera (1977) 38 

Age Gap: +2 years

Game of Thrones Season 4 (2014) Pedro Pascal (1975) 39,  Indira Varma (1973) 41

Age Gap: -2 years 

The Mandalorian and Grogu (2026) Pedro Pascal (1975,) 51 Me (1997)  29 

Age Gap: +22 years

[drawingdroid]

Pride month has arrived guys! More than ever, let’s protect our right to be here and exist with dignity. Din is with us!

This one really got the homophobes riled up on Twitter during Pride Month.

[drawingdroid]

Technically, I’m Not a Pirate

Oneshot | Din Djarin x Male Reader | Season 3 Finale | Rating: T

Summary: There wasn’t a plan, just escape. But now there’s a kid, a city, and a man in beskar who keeps showing up right when it matters. You’re not sure what this is. But it might be worth staying for.

Warnings: Developing friendship, little crush, mention of slave work and hospitals (not explicit), spoilers for Season 3.

WC: 5155

A/N: Shoutout to @void-of-nonsensesense who suggested a fic where reader just passes snacks to Grogu and Din is an exhausted dad, keeping things platonic. I'm sorry, I had to sprinkle a crush into the story, because I'm in love with romance, but the oneshot revolves around friendship I swear! Tell me what you think, I had a lot of fun writing this!!!

It was the perfect opportunity. You got into the snubfighter like the other pirates, ready to battle. You didn’t truly understand your boss’s quarrel with Nevarro, but you were going to take the chance. Amidst the chaos on board the Corsair, you grabbed your sparse possessions and put them into a duffle bag before entering the small capsule-like snubfighter. You put your headset on and disengaged the small ship.

The aerial space of Nevarro was a disaster. The first thing you saw was another ship, a Kom'rk-class fighter, you thought. Your plan was simple: leave atmo as soon as possible and in one piece. Your mates were already firing at the city, and you felt bad for the people. Last time you were in Nevarro, it was a true skug hole, and now you could admire the rapid development of the city. The other pirates even told you there was a school now where the cantina stood. With luck, you won’t see those bastards or pirate king Gorian Shard again.

To be subtle, you made an initial approach to the city, but then started diverting your course. It was too dangerous to try to leave the planet now, so maybe it was better to fly low and hide in the mountains until everything was quieter. That was your plan until two snubfighters exploded around you, colliding against eachother. You jumped in your seat, having no idea where that came from. And then you saw it. Like a silver comet, cutting through the sky, a N-1 starfighter. You instantly knew you didn’t have a chance, so you did what you were most remarkable at: flying. With both hands, you pushed the controls forward and propulsed towards the mountains. But it looked like the N-1 wasn’t letting you go. They started firing with precision, and you dodged by a hair. The ship was too fast, the pilot too skilled. You were a good one yourself, but your snubfighter couldn’t outrun your attacker.

Finally, a hit. Not direct, but enough to make the ship drift to your right. You were done, that was it. When you finally had an opportunity to be free again, you were going to die. You waited for the final blow while trying to stabilise the snubfighter, not giving up. But the kill shot never arrived. The N-1 had turned and was going directly against the Corsair. That pilot was reckless or an idiot. You didn’t have time to keep watching because you had an emergency landing to do. To your dismay, the lava river was there. If you didn’t stop before it, you’d be pirate soup. Your knuckles were white with the force you gripped the controls, trying everything you learnt in your pilot days.

The last thing you saw was the red glow of the lava.

…

Somewhat, you had made it. You were alive and free. The best part was that, if Gorian Shard survived the attack, he would think you were dead. The first thing that woke you up was a headache. You put your headset away, grunting in pain. It was hot, too hot inside the ship, then you noticed. The cracked glass, the lava. You were on the verge of falling on it. Without losing a second, and afraid of having a concussion, you grabbed your duffel bag and escaped from the snubfighter.

And that’s how you ended up limping through the lava flats. Your head was going to explode, and you felt dizzy, but you had to keep going. Blood was staining your orange flight suit, a memento from another life. The only path was towards Nevarro City. You’d think later what you’d tell the people there. Because if they realized you were a pirate, you were done.

Pushing and pushing yourself, you finally saw the big arch that signaled the entryway. The city looked like a mess after the bombardment. You rested a second against a destroyed building, feeling awful for the inhabitants. They didn’t deserve this. You kept limping until you passed the arch, and people started to notice you. Some were Mandalorians, and you didn’t have time to ask why they were on Nevarro. To your surprise, one of them, a really shiny one, approached you and asked something, but you didn’t even understand because your knees gave up and you fell face-first into the floor.

…

“He’s a New Republic Pilot, what’s he doing here?”

“You have to speak with Carson Teva.”

Your eyes were closed and you were lying in a soft mattress, your head still kriffing aching. A bandage was around it, you noticed, when you finally opened your eyes.

The place was clearly not a hospital. It looked like an improvised infirmary in one of the buildings that had survived. But the most remarkable thing was a big, intimidating Mandalorian looking at you, arms crossed.

“He’s awake.” You noticed the other interlocutor and recognised him. He was High Magistrate Karga, but you had known him as the Bounty Hunter's Guild Master. Not so honorable back then. But people change, you supposed.

“Who sent you, pilot?” The Mandalorian asked, visor scanning you. You were reclined in the infirmary bed, brain still coming to life. Your leg was bandaged, orange flight suit ripped to treat the wound. “Was it Captain Teva?”

“Uhhh…” You responded, half confused, half intimidated, noticing he was the same Mandalorian who had approached you in the entryway.

“Let him rest, Mando. He took a big hit.” Greef Karga interceded, putting his hand on the Mandalorian’s cuirass. Wait a minute, you knew this guy from before. He killed some of the pirates when they went to Nevarro’s cantina and found it was a school. You had silently celebrated their demise. All of them were disgusting.

“No, it’s okay,” you responded, feeling that the fog was dissipating from your brain. Now was the matter of addressing their question. Should you tell the truth? A half-truth? What if you lied and the Mandalorian discovered your lie? If you were right, he was a skilled bounty hunter. He might chase you until eternity. “Gorian Shard sent me.”

In less than a breath, his blaster was against your bandaged head. You flinched, but stood still, showing him your hands in surrender.

“Mando, you can’t kill someone in the infirmary,” Karga scolded him. “Do it outside.” His brows were frowned, obviously pissed after what had happened.

“Wait! I was with King Shard and…” Speaking was difficult with a head injury and a blaster against it. In that moment, you were so proud of yourself for keeping your New Republic flightsuit, because they’d probably killed you if you had looked like a pirate. “I was a New Republic pilot, too.”

“Can you prove it?” The raspy voice of Mando came menacing through the vocoder. He didn’t put the gun down. Magistrate Karga was waiting with his big hands on his hips.

“I don’t know this Captain Teva, but if he runs my chain code in the New Republic database, you’ll find me.” You closed your eyes, tired after speaking that much.

“If you’re lying, we’ll feed you to the Nevarro Reptavians,” added Karga, looking almost as scary as the Mando, who finally lowered the blaster.

“I’m gonna call him,” Mando said, and then he left the room.

“You look like you have a hell of a story, man,” Karga said, leaning against the window. You noticed his hand hadn’t stopped hovering over his blaster.

“You wouldn’t imagine,” you added, and then took the chance of not being under direct threat to rest a bit.

…

It seemed like this Captain Teva confirmed your identity, because Mando didn’t execute you the next few days. A nurse droid took care of you, and after a week, you felt strong enough again to try and walk around the room. You knew there were more patients, you could hear their voices and moans of pain. Probably King Shard’s attack on the city left many injured. You shivered, feeling guilty. After all, you were part of that. You were responsible for the Corsairs' engines. You could have sabotaged it, escaped before… But they had a chokehold on you. They needed your skills, so they took every opportunity to remember how they would torture you if you tried to escape. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t notice the two men entering the room.

“Yes, that’s him.” An older man said, flight suit orange like yours, helmet under his arm. Next to him was the Mando, looking shiny and imposing as always.

“Uh, good morning,” you responded, confused at how the two men had entered the room unannounced. Even the nurse droid was more polite. “Am I…arrested?” You furrowed your brow, gaze switching between the pilot and the Mandalorian. Sure, arrested was better than shot, but it didn’t mean you were happy about that.

“It depends on what you tell Captain Teva.” So this was the famous Carson Teva. The one who had to check your identity.

“Are we doing it here?” Teva asked and Mando nodded, and then he closed the door. And the infirmary became an interrogation room. The shorter man took out a datapad and started the interrogation.

“You were a Corporal in the New Republic Starfighter Corps?”

“That’s correct.” Teva nodded at your response, and you noticed how Mando was leaning against the wall. Apparently relaxed, ankles crossed, but you knew better. He would have the blaster’s barrel prepared to blow your brain out at any time.

“So, how did you end up being a pirate?”

You swallowed, hating to remember that day, but it was necessary for your survival.

“Mission gone wrong. My partner was killed. They kept me to negotiate with the New Republic, but they never responded. When they noticed I was skilled with repairs, they decided to keep me. You can see the file from that day on the database, probably, although evidently there’s no after report.” You indicated to him the date of the mission, mind on your partner for a moment. You really liked the guy; he was fearless, unlike you, a coward.

The betrayal by the New Republic hurt, too. You’d seen yourself how overloaded they were, but didn’t think they won’t even respond or attempt a rescue. Although negotiating with pirates was a delicate matter. 

“Are you bitter with the New Republic?” You knew that was a loaded question. You could be marked as a traitor.

“I did what I had to do for my survival, the New Republic abandoned me after all.”

Captain Teva nodded, writing something in the pad.

“Do you feel loyalty towards Gorian Shard?” You didn’t expect the question, and your gaze turned steel.

“He kept me imprisoned, tortured me, and forced me to work on his disgusting ship. When I arrived in Nevarro, I had just tried to finally escape, but my snugfighter was taken down at the edge of the lava river.”

“So it was you,” the Mandalorian said, he was so quiet that you had almost forgotten that he was there. “You were running away.”

“I saw a chance and took it, you responded, full of shame. You felt more of a coward under The Mandalorian’s gaze. A moment of silence stretched between you.

“We found him with a bag with all his things,” Mando added, and you remembered he was the one who first saw you at your arrival. Had he brought you to the infirmary too?

Carson Teva looked at Mando with a brow lifted.

“No pirate will go into battle with an overnight bag,” Teva reasoned.

“And he didn’t have any guns or weapons on him.”

“They would pat me down every day to look for one. They knew what I would do to them if I had a chance,” you admitted.

“I believe him.” You looked at the Mandalorian in disbelief. The man who was ready to execute you in this same bed.

“I’ll have to go through the reports and speak with him again, but..”

“I’m not arrested?”

“You’re not.”

Your smile was as bright as the sun. Finally, you were free, truly free. But then a somber thought crossed your mind.

“Goriand Shard, is he dead?” You tried not to shiver, but the sole thought of him made you fold into yourself.

“I took care of it myself,” Mando responded, his tone dark.

You breathed after a moment, holding it.

“Thank you,” you said, and he only nodded. Like it was just another day on the job.

“He’s a skilled pilot, Teva.” The Captain was already preparing to leave when Mando stopped him. “He put up a good fight when escaping from the N-1.”

Teva looked at you. You looked at Mando, not believing what he had said. You knew where this was going.

“Well, son…if your name is cleared after this…we’ll be happy to welcome you back on the Starfighter Corps.

You couldn’t believe it and just nodded.

“Thank you…Captain, safe travels.”

“Get well soon.”

And after the farewell, Carson Teva and The Mandalorian left the room.

Had the Mandalorian just recommended you for a job?

…

“Where did you find this beauty?”

You were sitting on a crate, your leg still too weak to stand for a long time, enjoying some crunchy snacks.

“Tatooine,” Mando responded. He was lying on his back, taking apart the port where the droid went to install a glass dome because “Grogu likes to watch from there.”

The little one was sitting next to you. For every snack you ate, you passed him three. His cheeks were round and full like a womp rat. 

It was a great surprise to find that Mando (the name everyone around here called him, although it was confusing with the other Mandos everywhere) had a kid. A tiny, wrinkled, cute kid. He had brought him to the infirmary when he came to tell you that Carson Teva had checked your story, and your name was cleared. The baby had cooed softly, observing you with bug-like eyes. You decided that you liked him.

A few days after that, you were discharged from the infirmary and left to your own devices. You rearranged your duffle bag over your shoulder, looking around you. Without credits and contacts, you didn’t even know how you’d have your next meal.

That’s when The Mandalorian appeared. At this point, it seemed like he was always in the right place at the right moment.. The new school was next to the infirmary, and apparently Mando had come to pick up the little one. The teacher droid was waving in his direction, and his kid, nestled on his elbow, was waving back. Other children from the city were running to their parents, ready to go home.

The pair walked towards you.

“You’re discharged,” he simply said, tone neutral as always.

“I am.”

“What now?” He always spoke like words costed credits, kriff.

“I don’t have no idea. I need my leg to heal properly,” you admitted, a bit ashamed of not having a plan after running from Gorian Shard.

“They’re always in need of engineering personnel at the port.” You were struck, he remembered that you were the Corsair’s engineer. “I can walk you, we were headed towards the N-1.”

Thanks to his contacts, you got a job, and a neighbor let you stay at their home in exchange for helping with repairs after the bombing. Things were finally working out for you, and you could breathe.

That’s what you brought there, snacking with the child on your break. You didn’t even know what you were both eating.

“You’re spoiling him,” Mando warned, turning his visor towards you. You’d never stop being amazed at how this ruthless Mandalorian could be so caring and patient with the kid. And how he, unexpectedly, had helped you to build a life again.

“Your dad is jealous because he wants to eat too,” you said conspiratorially to the kid, who giggled and grabbed a fistful of snacks. Mando sighed and decided to take a break from tinkering.

To your surprise, he sat next to you, and the kid was immediately on his lap.

“Have you thought about Teva’s offer?” He asked, caressing the kid’s fuzzy head.

“I have.”

��And?”

“I’m not healed yet, I can’t walk for a long time, and…” 

“You don’t trust them.”

He had put into words what you were afraid to say. After they had let you rot amidst the pirates, you not only were remorseful, but also distrusting of the New Republic. And now you knew that they hadn’t come to the rescue when Gorian Shard bombarded Nevarro, although Teva tried. SO no, you won’t be returning to your job for a while.

…

You were fully recovered and thriving in Nevarro, meeting with Din and Grogu between their missions. The Mandalorians had started establishing in the lava flats, and you helped them from time to time. You had your own rented room now, and new overalls. It was while working on the electric installation of the new covert that it arrived. The first thing you noticed was something covering the sunlight. Hand over your eyes, you looked. An Imperial fleet. You run to hide the kids when the Armorer made an appearance.

It looked like the fleet was Lady Kryze’s, who emerged from the Gauntlet with Grogu in her hands. 

“Hi buddy! Where’s your dad?” You asked when Bo-Katan left the kid on the floor, and he toddled towards you immediately. He was telling you something in that babbling language of his, and you gave him one of the snacks you had stashed in your coveralls’ pockets, especially for him. The ones that were one of his favorites, blue cookies that he practically inhaled every time.

“If he pukes all over himself, you’re cleaning him.” You turn to greet Mando when you hear his voice. He had landed the N-1 and was walking with that sure swagger of his. In one hand, he had a bottle of some expensive-looking wine.

“I hope that’s not for the baby,” you say, smiling playfully. The kid was occupying himself by climbing up you, at that moment already grabbing your toolbelt.

“I hoped to share it with you.”

You tilted your head, like Mando did when he was thinking. When you went to the cantina to catch up, he always wore the helmet and never drank. Was he going to drink in front of you, finally? At this point, you knew a little more about his tribe's customs regarding the helmet. You knew he wouldn’t remove it, but even lifting it just to drink was a big step. Did he trust you enough for that? You weren’t even sure if he considered you his friend. For you, he was the closest person in your life, the one you told your worries and projects. The one who helped you build a new life. But between his silent nature and the helmet, you weren’t sure where you stood. 

“What’s the occasion?” You asked, picking Grogu up from your toolbelt and putting him on your shoulder. He loved it when you did that.

“We’re celebrating tonight.” He shifted his weight from leg to leg. “And…I have to ask you something.”

“Whatever you need, Mando.”

…

This is how you found yourself hovering over the glazed surface of Mandalore, in a borrowed starfighter. You felt indebted to Mando, so when he asked for backup because he needed a good pilot, you said yes immediately. That, and because you felt your pride inflate like a balloon. The plan was to search for the “Great Forge”. On the path, you had encountered some Mandalorian survivors. These poor people were in terrible conditions, you didn’t know how they had survived on this inhospitable planet. You volunteer to fly them back to the light cruiser waiting with the fleet. 

You were a bit sad to abandon the expedition, especially since Grogu was being a menace using IG-11 as a walker. The discovery of being able to say “yes” and “no” had you laughing all the time.

“Grogu, does your dad snore?”

“YES!”

“Grogu, do his boots stink?”

“YES!”

“Grogu, do you think your dad should start dating?”

“YES! YES! YES!”

“Enough,” Din intervened, you laughing on the floor with tears in your eyes. This IG-11 thing was the best idea Karga had in his life.

“But Mando, there are a lot of hot fighters here, are you sure…”

He looked at you with his equivalent of a death stare.

“Don’t make me regret bringing you here.”

“I’ll behave,” you responded, wiping away your tears. Grogu giggled, amused at the situation.

That happened the night before, and now you were carrying the survivors to the light cruiser. It was just before docking that you received the distress signal. The atmosphere of Mandalore messed with comms, so the quality of the sound was terrible.

“Mando? What happens?” You couldn’t understand a thing, but in the back, there were clearly blaster shots. In a hurry, you dropped the survivors who were helped and treated. “I think something’s wrong,” you told the other Mandalorians. “I’m going back right now.”

And it was so, so wrong. Other starfighters had followed you, but you weren’t prepared to be outnumbered by TIE fighters and bombers. Your throat went dry.

“Mando! Are you there?” You tried once again, but only static responded. Cold sweat started to drip from your neck. But there wasn’t time for being frightened. The TIE fighters were coming. From where or why, it didn’t matter. You only hoped that Mando and the kid were safe.

The fight was chaotic and dirty. The TIE fighters were faster, so you had to use every trick in your sleeve to protect the fleet. You dove your ship almost to the point of colliding with the glass floor to surprise the imperials from below, meanwhile, one of your allies was taken down. It was like the rebellion days. Watching friends and allies die, again and again. But you had to stay strong, so you maneuvered the Gauntlet and fired to the point of overheating the guns, taking down the TIE fighters until no more were left. Your hands were shaking from the force you had gripped the controls.

But you couldn’t waste time, so you went directly to the rendezvous point where you had said goodbye. There was smoke in the air, but you could see the Mandalorians coming to the surface. Frantically, you looked for two specific figures, but from a distance, it was impossible. Landing as fast as you could, you ran to the group. Some were injured, you saw Axe Woves and other Mandalorians you knew from the covert. Finally, you spotted Bo-Katan, but no trace of Din and Grogu. She was looking to the sky.

“Lazy Kryze! We’ve dealt with the TIE fighters.” You had a lot of respect for her and always tried to address her formally, but desperation was coming out of you in waves.

“They’re okay,”  she assured you, before you even asked. She put her hands on your shoulders. “Great job.” And then she left to help the injured into the Gauntlet. You just waited, your hands twitching.

Until you saw the familiar unpainted helmet next to a bounty droid.

“Mando!” You couldn’t help the cry of relief, nor the run towards them. The kid looked overjoyed to see you, jumping into your arms immediately.

“You’re…okay.” He looked exhausted. You were holding back the need to hug him. “I tried to warn you…The TIE fighters…”

“We took care of them.” You assured him, rocking the kid. 

“I knew I could count on you,” he said, sounding like he was on the verge of breaking. What had happened underground? Maybe he’ll tell you later. 

“Do you need help walking? Are you injured?” You asked, looking at how he wasn’t walking.

“No…just, for a moment…” His shoulders sank, gaze fixated on the floor. “I thought you were gone, too.”

Your heart broke into a hundred pieces not only because of the confession, but because of the lingering implication. Who had he lost today? The moment of vulnerability shattered you. Not one week ago, you were wondering if Mando even considered you a friend, and now he was telling you how afraid he was for you. You were in awe that he considered you more than an ally.

But for you, it had been some time since you considered more than a friend, though. Not that you’d ever tell him that.

You came closer, and closer, giving him time to retreat. But he didn’t. “I’m here, Mando,” you said, finally hugging him, Grogu nestled between you two.

“Din. It’s Din.”

You inhaled sharply, having spent enough time among Mandalorians to learn that their name is sacred.

“Din, thank you for returning safe and sound.”

…

The Mandalorian settlement started growing, tents became little cabins with the efforts of the warriors and the help of the people of Nevarro. And you. One of those cabins was Din’s. He had accepted it after Karga offered in return for his services. And that was where you were headed after a long day of building new houses and wiring the ones that were finished. 

After the mission on Mandalore, the dead were honoured and the survivors healed. And Din and you had grown closer. He even told you about Paz Vizsla, his brother in arms, who had died ensuring the survival of all of them. To your dismay, the little crush on your friend had only grown. You tried to keep it down, tucked in your lower ribs, but every time you saw him, especially now that he looked relaxed for once in his life, it got worse.

That evening, he insisted on cooking for you, a skill he was putting an effort into learning after years of living off ration bars and broth. Now he had a child who needed a proper diet to grow strong. You brought some spicy buns that a Mandalorian family had given you in exchange for helping them with the hydraulic door system.

Grogu greeted you at the porch, losing interest in a poor lizard that he had caught.

“Don’t snack before dinner, buddy, your dad is trying so hard to cook for us,” you said, patting his fuzzy head. Apparently, he was very hungry, because when he smelled the spicy buns, he tried to fly them from the envelope. 

“Don’t give him anything before dinner,” Din’s voice came from the inside between the sound of pots and pans. “Or he won’t eat his vegetables.

“C’mon, Din, at this point, you know he’s a carnivore.” You picked up the kid and sat him on your hip, going inside the cabin.

“We don’t know,” he grunted. After some time, you still didn’t have any information about the kid’s race, in spite of Din’s traveling. You took a look at him after crossing the threshold. Even though he was more relaxed now, he wouldn’t remove even a little piece of his armor. So, currently, he looked hilarious trying not to ruin dinner, like the pot contained a thermal detonator. To his credit, the smell was good.

“It looks like you’re getting better,” you said, your smile brightening your features like every time you saw him. 

You and Grogu set the table, and the three of you started eating. After that time when you shared the expensive wine, Din started to eat in front of you, only lifting his helmet enough, trusting you won’t peek. You ate in silence, enjoying the stew Din had prepared and the spicy buns. You loved these moments shared with them, although you had to push down for foolish feelings so they wouldn’t surface.

“I need to ask you something,” he suddenly said, leaving the spoon in the bowl.

“Shoot,” you cleaned your chin and observed how Grogu tried to steal your bun. “Those are bad manners, Grogu, if you want more, you gotta ask,” you scolded him, and he lowered his ears, but soon babbled to point to an untouched bun. You gave it to him and took a sip of water. “Sorry, Din, you were saying?”

“I want you to be my partner.”

You spat all the water over him.

“Sorry, what? You said, feeling half embarrassed, half shocked, your heart trying to escape from your ribs. He looked unbothered and just cleaned the water, but the kid was giggling.

“The New Republic contacted me. Carson Teva wants me in. It’s a steady job, less dangerous.” He looked at the kid, but you didn’t know where this was going. “I accepted to join the Adelphi Rangers.”

You frowned until the gears in your brain started to turn. So he meant that kind of partner. You hoped the disappointment didn’t show on your face.

“You want me…To join, too? Be your partner in the Starfighter Cops?”

“Captain Teva’s offer is still standing.”

You evaluated your situation, still shattered by the misunderstanding. 

“I don’t know Din…” You would admit you missed the corps, but you were still a bit hurt by the New Republic letting you rot in the hands of the pirates.

“I trust you more than anyone in the galaxy, and you’re a great pilot.” His voice was solemn, and you felt your face getting hotter. And it wasn’t the spices. 

“Well, it would be a good way of keeping an eye on you so you don’t get into trouble, I mean…” He tilted his head to the left, not saying anything, but you were already an expert in his microexpressions. “C’mon, don’t give me that look, you attract problems like a magnet.”

“So that's why I attracted you?” He said, and you inhaled sharply. You knew he was joking and he wasn’t meaning that kind of attraction, but another more double-entendre of words today, and you’d have a heart attack. You decided to shoot your shot.

“More like you were attracted to me, it was you who decided to help me. I didn’t know my handsome face would ever soften a fierce bounty hunter enough to take care of me,2 you said drastically, but your insides were twisting. Din and you didn’t flirt, you were friends. Remember? He wasn’t interested in you or in dating in general.

He didn’t respond at first. Just shifted on his seat. The kid was now silent, looking at you alternately. He sensed your nerves with his magic baby antenna, probably. Din tilted down his helmet at put himself forward into the table, getting closer to you. You felt like a teenager again with how your pulse was pounding against the collar of your flight suit. And finally, with a tone you’d never heard him using, a low pitch that sounded like a Tatooine dune, soft and sandy, he asked:

“What kind of partner did you think I meant before?”

[drawingdroid]

The chaps I’m so dead! I’d commit crime only to be hunted by him. Come and get me Djarin.

Casual cowboy came late I’m sorry

[drawingdroid]

Every day of my life.

I miss Din Djarin

[drawingdroid]

Why I didn’t know about this before??? Let’s fall into the rabbit hole!

Rough Day Comic Masterpost

(Delayed due to mental health tom foolery!)

Based on Rough Day by @no-droids. I am editing the smut out ("Abridged for Christian Roomates") but acknolwedge its sanctity. Filler content/arcs will be included to make up for taking it out.

"The immovable object and the unstoppable force are both implicitly assumed to be indestructible and to mutually co-exist, thereby creating an inherently unreconcilable tension. By definition, an unstoppable force, in order to become unstoppable, ought to possess infinite energy. On the other hand, an immovable object is non-submissive to any force of any magnitude, from being palpable to an asteroid attack. That is, it won’t shift from its place at all..."

But what happens when two such forces meet their match...when youre not strong enough to keep that distance any longer...nor weak enough to let go of your rules, of your past...everything?

How can it feel like it's all coming apart...

yet all coming together...

...can they really let it go?

This, dear viewers, is the predicament that our Sweet Girl and a certain tin can man have found themselves in, certainly before, but most especially after one particularly rough day. Join me fellow sickos on this journey, and watch as the unstoppible meets the immovable.

-Madison

SERIES GEN WARNINGS: NON-canon typical gore/blood/violence, emotional supression, bodily self-hatred, implied nudity, implied and explicit trauma (iscolation, blood, death, depression, anxiety, bullying, sexual), yearning for a fictional man

BOOK/SEASON 1: "THE EXCEPTIONS"

BOOK/SEASON 2: "TORN"

BOOK/SEASON 3: "TITLE TBD LOL"

BEHIND THE SCENES CONTENT (latest SNEEK PEEKS, FREE backgrounds for artists, storyboards, designing process, SW pinterest megaboard, soundtrack)

NON-RD ART/WRITING/FUN/LIFE STUFF

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

[ORIGINAL POST] (FEB 2024)

"Fuck it I'll try making a Rough Day Comic" 🤦

I just loved the process of creating that Cantina comic so much, and I really really have been a imagining how cool a comic could look for the entire fic (its just written so well) and I really wanna make it super clean so...I think imma break out the tablet and get this going. Also I just love this work so much that it would really being me so much joy (especially as my first comic) and thats what's important in the end.

No idea if it'll stick or if it'll be just a few or how soon but...I really am excited to try

Also kinda have to get used to drawing star wars environments/backgrounds/people in general, as I'm not used to that at all so here's to learning ALOT of new things ahead!

Probs will start out with the backstory drabble from @no-droids masterlist just for chronological sake and then do the chapters in order.

About the smut...🙃

*sigh* I live with my very christian siblings in a one bedroom so.....just no soft or hardcore smut (idk if i can even get away with any spicy gestures at all lol), and will probs have to clean some of the language up or leave bubbles blank until I live alone and can edit them later then re-upload 🤣

At least for now lol

So yeah I hope anyone who also enjoys this fic has as much fun observing this process as I will have making it!

[drawingdroid]

Desperately need Pedro to do more helmetless Din promo shots for the movie.

This man + that armour = 🥵🥵

[drawingdroid]

That damn teal armor! VII

A Din Djarin x Transmasc Mando Reader Story

Major spoilers for The Mandalorian Season 3 ahead!

Masterlist

Chapter summary: Din and Vizsla finally confront each other about their past and present feelings.

Warnings: Reader is a trans man, goes by he/him pronouns, and had top surgery; angst, humor, and fluff; slow burn; pinch of enemies to lovers; eventual smut +18; grief and mourning; happy ending.

Chapter word count: 1926

The day had started like any other. The Armorer had asked Din to help reorganize part of the storage, and now he was heading towards your ship with the steady stride of a man who just wanted to check another task off his list.

But something in him had been off since the night before. Since he saw you with the kids, in his home. For a moment, he imagined you staying. He hadn’t said anything. He didn’t know how to. But the want was still there. The want… and the fear of his own desires. Fear of losing you again, of feeling like that young man at the border outpost, watching you walk away through a door with a new name and Din’s heart still in your hands.

He stepped onto your ship’s ramp. And then he saw it. The crates were already loaded. The engine hummed softly. The interior was clean. Too clean. 

Then he realized. You were getting ready to leave. When you heard his steps, you turned to look at him, caught in the middle of making inventory. Din’s posture was straight, as always, but his arms were tense instead of hanging at his sides.

“The Armorer said you needed help,” Din said.

“It’s done,” you replied, trying to not be betrayed by your tone.

Silence.

“You leaving?”

“I came for Ragnar,” you said, low, but steady. “He’s well taken care of. He doesn’t need me.”

Another pause. “And credits don’t earn themselves. If Mandalore’s going to rise again, someone has to move the pieces outside the covert.”

It was all logical. Reasonable. Impeccably sound. But Din wasn’t hearing any of it. All he saw was your ship powered up. All he heard was what you weren’t saying. His heart pounded like it used to, in the old days. Those stolen moments on patrol, the sparring sessions, the tender touches between armor.

This time, he couldn’t stay still. He wasn’t a boy anymore.

“Don’t go.”

It came out unfiltered like a round fired straight from the chest.

“What?”

“I’m telling you not to go.”

The sentence hung in the space between you, a fracture. Small and irreversible.

And before you could respond, Din stepped closer. Not threatening. Just present. Inmovable.

“I didn’t say it last time. This time I am.”

His voice was still calm. But his words had lost their chill.

“I don’t want you to go.”

Din didn’t know how to hold his own body in that moment. He felt his pulse in his throat, in his wrists, beneath the collar of his chestplate.

“Ragnar and Grogu… they like having you around,” he began like that might soften the weight of what he’d just said. “You’ve been… helpful. And steady. And… well.” He looked at you,  uncertain. “You could be a good influence on him.”

He had never said that many words at once. And each of them had cost him a battle.

You tilted your helmet slightly.

“Since when am I a good influence?”

Din looked down. His fingers curled a little like they were trying to hold on to something.

“I don’t know. Maybe… since you left,” he confessed, voice low. Frayed. “You’re…changed..”

Silence. The air between you felt heavier than the atmosphere a gaseous planet.

“I’m sorry,” you said then. The words came out with the weight of years as if you’d carried them from Concordia all the way to this moment. “I’m sorry I left.”

Din looked up.

You took a breath.

“It wasn’t because I didn’t love you. I need you to understand that.”

The words struck Din like the mudhorn back in Arvala-7. You kept speaking. There was no arrogance this time. Just truth.

“I was breaking inside. My head. My body. What I was. What I wanted to be. What everyone expected of me. And the sewers… Nevarro was killing us slowly. Concordia was gone. Our people were scattered. And I was, too.”

You leaned for a moment against the side of your ship.

“I didn’t know who I was. I just knew I couldn’t stay there. And with you, it was harder. Because you…” Your voice caught for a second. “You were the only thing that made me want to stay. But if I had stayed without knowing who I was…I would’ve ended up hating you. Or hating myself.”

Din said nothing. But every inch of his body was taut. Listening. Hurting. And then, without drama, you said it:

“If you had asked me, I would’ve stayed. I would’ve…taken the vows— become your riduur. But I couldn’t marry someone… who didn’t know who they were marrying.”

The sentence hung in the air, not demanding an answer. Only understanding.

And Din, for once, didn’t run. Not physically. Not emotionally. He just looked at you and stepped closer.

If you had asked me, I would’ve been your riduur.

The words echoed inside Din’s helmet. Over and over again.

His breathing had turned uneven, though he masked it well. But inside, his mind was spinning like he’d just taken a direct hit to the head. He hadn’t expected that. He hadn’t expected any of it.

You, steady, clear, unraveling, confessing everything he’d imagined for years, but never dared to put into words. And now that you had, something inside him cracked, not from pain but from guilt. Because you weren’t the only one who’d been afraid. You had left to find yourself. And he had stayed silent because he never believed he was enough.

He looked at you. And then, without overthinking, he spoke.

“I almost asked you.” The words were barely a whisper, but they sounded like they tore open the sky. “Before you left. Before everything… fell apart.”

Another step closer.

“I imagined it. The two of us. A clan. A home. You already had your teal armor, bright, perfect. And I was still wearing scraps.” His helmet had never felt so heavy. “You were a Vizsla. An old name. Honorable. And me… I was an orphan with a borrowed Creed.”

The confession shook inside his chest. It sunk him with the weight of years of shame.

“I told myself I had to prove I was more than some lucky bounty hunter. That I had to earn the right to ask. That I had to prove I deserved you.” He looked at you then. Steady. “But you didn’t give me time.”

You could hear his words crack a bit at the end, and after a beat of silence, he added, with the softest voice you’d ever heard from him:

“Maybe I needed to find myself, too. I just didn’t know it until you were gone.” 

The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It was full of everything that hadn’t been said.

Full of everything that maybe, just maybe, was still left to say.

And there, beneath Nevarro’s golden light, with the ship’s ramp still open and warm engine air curling around their boots, two men stood still. For the first time in years…unafraid to truly see one another.

Din didn’t know how they had gotten so close. All he knew was, one more step, and there’d be no going back. You were right there in front of him. Still, but present, as if the weight of all those years was suspended between your helmets, your armored chests, your silences.

His fingers were trembling. He wanted to touch you. The yearning was unbearable. He needed to make sure you were really there. Din raised a hand. Slowly, gently. Like you were a wild creature that might vanish if startled. Doubt trembled in his shoulders, but the intent was clear.

His fingers brushed the edge of your shoulder plate.

You were still as a statue, still processing his words. His hand started caressing where the armor ended, touching the coarse flight suit under it. You leaned into the touch.

“Din…” You whispered, feeling that you were on the verge of overflowing. His gloved hand went up the column of your neck, thumb brushing delicately your most vulnerable spot. Time had stopped a while ago for you two. “I’ll stay.”

Din inhaled sharply. You saw his pauldrons rise with his breath. You wanted to touch him too, to be as close as the armor let you, and you finally put your palms on his breastplate.

And then…the scream.

“AaaaAAHHHhhhhh!”

A sharp cry, a sudden gust of wind…and a Mandalorian kid soaring through the air like a starfighter gone rogue. Grogu, perched on top of a barrel, waved his arms with glee. The other child rose unsteadily, caught between excitement and pure panic.

“Grogu!” Din barked, jerking back in shock. “No!”

You didn’t move.

Din sprinted off, voice cracking as he fumbled with his jetpack, desperately trying not to roast the kid mid-rescue.

“Bring him down! No! NOT HIGHER! Stop laughing, this is serious!”

You…You stayed exactly where you were. Hand still halfway out. Chest rising fast. Heart pounding against the metal like it was trying to break through the armor and breathe. And for the first time since coming back to Nevarro, you laughed.

Not loud. Not long. Just a brief, honest burst of laughter that slipped out from between your ribs before you could stop it. Because of course. You had to fall in love all over again with the most chaotic Mandalorian in the galaxy.

The sound of the hammer striking beskar had accompanied you from the moment you entered the forge. It was a familiar rhythm. Solid. Unchanging. Like her.

The Armorer didn’t look at you at first. She was focused on the anvil, tempering the glowing metal. The heat was dense—almost ceremonial. You stood in silence, out of respect. And because you weren’t entirely sure where to begin.

“You’ve come with doubts,” she said, without looking up.

It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

The hammer came down again. The metal gleamed, slowly taking shape.

“About your place?”

“About everything,” you admitted. “But yes. If I stay… if I don’t take off again… I can’t keep living the way I did before.  I’m not the same one who left the covert. Not the same one who arrived weeks ago.  I don’t want to float between clans anymore.  I need… to belong.”

The Armorer nodded ever so slightly as if she had already expected this answer.

“Iron that has been melted does not return to its original shape. Nor does the Mandalorian who has chosen their own path.”

You didn’t know if she was accepting you or warning you. Probably both. Then she placed the piece on the anvil and struck it one final time. She turned it over. And there it was. A new pauldron. Polished. Forged with care. The signet of the Mudhorn engraved at its center. Din’s clan. Your voice caught in your throat.

“It’s for Ragnar,” you said, more as a confirmation than a question.

“Today begins the forging of his first armor,” the Armorer affirmed. “His clan has been chosen. He has chosen as well.”

You nodded. And inside, something ached. Not jealousy. Not loss. Just that strange echo that comes when you see a place that could’ve been yours and choose not to take it.

“And you?” the Armorer asked, returning to her work without turning.

“Me?”

“Have you chosen whom to follow?”

The silence lingered just a second. The heat from the metal mixing with the warmth in your chest.

And then, you answered.

“Yes. I just need the courage to tell him.”

The Armorer said nothing.

But the hammer came down one last time.

Like a silent blessing.

[drawingdroid]

They do EVERYTHING together!

[drawingdroid]

That damn teal armor! | Masterlist

A Din Djarin x Transmasc Vizsla Reader Story

Major spoilers for The Mandalorian Season 3 ahead!

Author's note: Welcome to another series! I've been typing this nonstop for the last two weeks. It was an idea that started a year ago, but it only took shape when I needed some solace recently. I haven't abandoned my other series, Melting Point, but I'm rewriting. I hope that if you read this, you find some comfort in my fanfic.

Series summary: Din adopts not only Grogu but Ragnar too after the events on Mandalore. This is The Way. The three of them are living their little life in the cabin on Nevarro when you arrive, claiming the right to raise Ragnar because you are Paz’s younger sibling, who has been away for years, reuniting the other Mandalorians scattered around the galaxy. But there's something else: while you were apart from the tribe, you transitioned to be a man. Would Din recognize you? Could you get to an agreement and raise the boy together? Wrong! There's a problem: Din kriffing hates your guts.

Warnings: Reader is a trans man, goes by he/him pronouns, and had top surgery; angst, humor, and fluff; slow burn; pinch of enemies to lovers; eventual smut +18; grief and mourning; happy ending.

Series word count: 16k+

Read it on Ao3

Chapter I: The other Vizsla

Chapter II: Headache

Chapter III: The Reckoning

Chapter IV: Recognition

Chapter V: The Hunt

Chapter VI: Shelter

Chapter VII: No going back

Chapter VIII: Pinned

Coming soon...