#sweating and just imagining how cold Hoth is

[where-dreamers-go]

“Thermal” Luke Skywalker x Reader

(A/N: Some Luke Skywalker on Hoth fanfic for yah. Something short and sweet. And platonic! Reader is from a warmer planet. Warnings: None Word Count: 552 words)

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Freezing temperatures and multiple layers were a constant. The Rebel base on Hoth was safe for the time being. Unforgiving in way of basic survival, but enough.

Working together to keep the base running brought strength and minor frustration.

You wondered if the cold was supposed to ignite a fury to wield against the Empire or challenge your sanity.

“Kriffing cold,” you muttered as you shuffled to your quarters.

A freezing cold, ice-block of a planet was everything you were not used to.

Yavin Four was more homey than this, you thought.

Walking passed the door, you wished for sunshine and beaches.

“I’d fight for a hot drink right now.” You sniffled and kicked off a boot.

“Me too.”

Your second boot dropped.

Peering around the small quarters, you did not see another person. No droid in sight either.

“Is this a sign of hypothermia?” You whispered.

“I don’t think so.” The voice was muffled.

What the blazes?

Stepping forward and searching for the hiding guest was odd. The source being your cot full of blankets dispelled any fear.

Squinting, you focused, searching.

A pair of blue eyes blinked.

“Luke?”

“Hi.”

“How long have you been in here?”

“Long enough, I guess.”

“You know this is where I sleep, right?” You laughed.

“Yeah. The plan was to ask if I could borrow your heated blanket, but you weren’t here. I thought I’d wait.”

“And you got cold?”

“It’s freezing.”

“I know.” You shivered. “Meaning either you’re leaving my pile of warmth or we’re getting really close because I need that blanket. My feet are cold again by the way.”

“I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.”

“Scoot over.”

Quickly, you found a way into the bundle of blankets and more importantly: the heated blanket. The best purchase you had made beside a large thermal blanket.

Space was cold and so was Hoth.

“It’s funny,” you said as you got comfortable, “I do have a second one.”

“What?”

“But I let Wedge borrow it. I guess I missed you in passing.”

His lips pulled into a smile as he shook his head fondly.

Together you curled up for the night on account of the rapidly dropping temperature outdoors. Keeping and sharing all warmth in your make shift cocoon.

. . . 

The sound of movement and muffled voices stirred you awake. A snug, pleasant temperature surrounded your body and made you temporarily forget about the icy planet.

Rebels were preparing for the day. It was best you did as well. Of course it would prove a small challenge given your position.

Your dear friend, Luke Skywalker, had his head tucked underneath yours.

Subconsciously huddling for warmth wasn’t an exaggeration. Your limbs were squished between bodies and legs were slotted together.

This is a first, you thought before yawning.

Carefully, Luke picked up his head to have a look around the room.

“We should get ready,” Luke stated just above a whisper. His hair tousled in a humorous fashion; sticking up in the back.

“Quickly before we freeze or stay snuggled up?” You asked, reluctant to leave your pillow.

“Both.” He grinned. “Uh, thanks for sharing.”

“Can’t let the farm boy freeze.”

Luke shook his head. A grin still clearly visible on his face until you frowned.

“What is it?”

“I have to get up first.” 

~~~

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~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

Star Wars Tags: @sweetheartliz07

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[mudhorn-djarin19]

A Helping Hand Chp.2 - Din Djarin x f!reader

Part two and the final part of my fic I shared from last night! :D If you enjoy please be sure to check out my profile and AO3 for more works! I have more fics I am currently working on, all will be posted to AO3 first then shared here. Ratings: Mature/explicit Warnings: smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, shower sex Masterlist Chapter 1 AO3 link Join my taglist via here! A week has passed since Mando got hurt badly on the job. He seems to be doing better now, no longer cringing in pain every so often and back to being able to do everything on his own. You were glad to see him back to himself for you hated seeing him in so much pain and struggle. You had just arrived at the destination of the next Quarry, a cold icy planet. It reminds you of Hoth but you know it’s not. You help Mando gather up ammo and his weapons for his travels and wish him well while the kid roams around reaching for anything pretty and shiny. “Please be safe. I don’t want to have to patch you up again.” You say as you pick the kid up in your arms. “I won’t. This should be an easy quarry. I’ll be back in a few hours. Just stay put with the kid and keep warm. Here’s the keys to start the crest if it gets too cold. You know where blankets are.” He says. You and the kid watch as he goes. “Well little buddy, what do you want to do today?” You ask as you shut the door to the ship before it gets too cold inside. You take a look around and figured you should do some cleaning up since neglected it all week. Not your favorite task but, you’ll be busy for a good while until Mando returns. ________ After having finished some cleaning around the ship you decide to take a quick shower to rinse off the dirt and sweat from the day. You make sure the kid is still fast asleep in his pod before tucking it into the bunker room, stepping into the fresher soon after. You flip the light on and start undressing as the water warms up. You took some time to soak your hair and body in the warmth of the water enjoying how it felt against your achy muscles and warmed you. You were lost in the comforting feeling but suddenly knocked out of it when the lights in the fresher had turned off on you. “What the-?” You question. You didn’t hear Din come back yet so you figured it wasn't him and something in the ship had just gone wrong. You were about to turn the shower off to go step out and see if you could fix the problem when you felt a strong hand grab your throat gently and push you back against the wall. Panic set in you and you were about to try to scream and throw a punch when he spoke. “Where do you think you’re going cyar’ika?” Mando’s voice said soothing, “Dank farrick Mando!” You snapped. “Don’t scare me like that!” He chuckled lightly, still holding you where you were but stepping closer to you to where his breath was in your ear. That’s when you registered his voice wasn’t modulated. His helmet was off. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Just wanted to surprise you.” He was letting go of your throat to cup your check and rub a spot with his thumb. “What’re you doing here? When did you get back?” You question, not moving from your spot. Still  a bit shook up. “A few minutes ago. I heard you in here and figured hm I need a shower as well. Might as well join and finish what we started the other week.” He says. You feel your face go flush. “Y-you mean…?” You ask, moving your arms to wrap around his neck. “Mhmm. Is that okay with you?” He replies, pulling you closer to him. Now chest to chest. You feel him already hard against your thigh. “Y-yes.” You gulp. Never expecting this to actually happen. You were beginning to think the other week was a fever dream at times. That nothing ever happened between you two in that way. But, here you are. And it’s happening. You bring your hand up to cup the back of Mando’s neck, pushing his face down closer to you as you stand on your tippy toes some. He takes note of what you are trying to do and bends a bit until his finally met yours. His grip on your hips stronger now, holding so you don’t leave him. You sigh into the kiss. His lips were soft and plush, he had some stubble on his strong jaw and a mustache which tickled your lips causing you to giggle a bit. He works his way away from your lips which caused you to whine a bit until he trailed down your jaw to your neck, finding a spot to suck at some. Whatever spot he found was definitely a sweet spot as you moaned whenever he sucked at the skin there. He took your hips, grabbed in his hands and spun you around so your back was now flush against him. You felt his length pressed against your butt and it made you jump a little in response. He continued to kiss the back of you neck now, slowly inching his hand down to your core. “Tell me if you want me to stop at any time.” He sighs into your ear. You give a quick response as his finger slowly dips into your folds, causing a sigh to escape your lips. He pumps it in and out slowly, bringing a second finger in to stretch you even further. You drag your arms up around his neck and into his hair, pulling with every pump he gives you. He soon brings his thumb into the motions, rubbing at your clit along with the pumps. “M-mando…” You moan. “Don’t call me Mando.” He groans as you rub your backside against his length “What am I to call you then. I only know you by the name Mando..” You say breathy. “Din.” He groans again. “My real name is Din.” “Din.” You chuckle and turn your head to press a kiss into his neck. “I like it. Din...” You say repeating his real name again. He chuckles lowly back in response and takes his free hand holding your hips against him to squeeze your breasts, grazing your nipple with his thumb. Switching between the two. “Ma- Din…” You start to say but keep getting interrupted by moans. “What is it cyar’ika?” He says into your ear, leaving a kiss just behind it. “Please…please let me have you inside me…” You ask. With that statement he growls in response, pushing you against the wall out of the shower, your back still turned to him he leans down to whisper into your ear. “You sure about that?” He asks “Yes please…” You ask again. “Alright but first, turn around. I want to feel those delicate hands on my hard cock a bit.” He replies. You immediately do so and reach your hands out to his chest first. You can’t see shit in this darkness. You know why it’s dark and while you wish you could see his face you understand. You glide your hands down his toned chest, over his torso until you feel the bit of hair at his navel. Your hands travel down just a bit farther and you find it. Your one hand delicately wraps around. While you saw it the other week when you helped him shower you tried to pay no mind to it to be respectful. But maker, he's so thick and fairly long. You’re little hand work at stroking him slightly, he groans and pushes his hips towards you. He raises one arm and places it against the wall just behind your head, bracing himself as he thrusts himself into your hand. “Mhm… maker cyar’ika… that feels so… good” He groans in between thrusts, leaning down to capture your lips between his. You continue your handy work when he grabs your wrist snatching it away from his cock, pinning both of your hands between his one above your head against the wall. He grabs his cock with his free hand, rubbing the tip of it against your folds. “D-Din… stop teasing please…” You whine, wiggling in his grasp. He lets go of your wrists above your head, placing both hands back on your hips and spinning you around to face the wall once again, He pulls your hips out though so you are slightly bending over. “Stay facing that way with you ass out.” He says, tapping you in between your thighs. “Spread for me.” You do as he says and not much of a split second after you feel the tip of his cock once again meeting you at your folds entrance. His one arm wraps around your torso holding you still as he slowly pushes himself in. “Kriff…” He sighs as he bottoms out inside of you. “So tight and warm.” You let out a breath sigh once he is fully inside of you, maker you feel so full. He slowly starts to pull out but doesn’t fully pull out before he’s pushing back into you. You push back into him with each thrust he gives. He reaches a hand down around your torso and starts to rub at your clit. The fresher is filled with both your moans and you hope they aren’t too loud that the kid hears and wakes up. “Kriff… D-din… I am getting close.” You say. With your statement he pulls out of you leaving you to whine at your los of contact before he’s turning you to face him once again and suddenly lifting you up in his arms, pushing your back against the wall. He lines himself up with your entrance again and thrusts into you, harder than before. You groan in response and wrap you legs around his waist, hands going into his hair. You two kiss and sigh into one another as you both grind into each other, getting closer and closer to each of your climax. “D-din… I’m going to…” You groan again. “Come on.” He says coaxing you on in between breaths. Your walls tighten around him as you let yourself go, moaning loudly in response as he keeps thrusting into you, seconds from his own release. “I’m close too… where?” He asks. “Inside. Please.” You respond. “But…” He asks concerned. “It’s safe. Don’t worry about it.” Not wanting to take the time to explain you have an implant. Without even having to ask twice or question, he releases himself into you. You feel your core warm as he does so. Coming down from both of your highs you both continue to kiss, breath ragged. He sets you back down on your feet and leans against the wall, trapping you beneath him. “That was… everything I imagine and more…” He huffs, stroking your cheek. “Mhm.” You respond, burrowing your face into his hand. “I guess we should… should actually shower now” He chuckles. “Make sure we also didn’t wake the kid.” You chuckle back in response and reach over to find the soap in the darkness, grabbing it finally and starting to lather up Din’s chest. He lets you do your job, trading off with you to help get you cleaned in return, sharing kisses in between. “We should do this more often.” You say. “Hm? Shower together or the sex part?” Din asks “Hmm...why not both.” You chuckle. “I like the idea of that.” He says chuckling back, planting a kiss on your lips a final time before you two turn in for the night. Translations ____________ Cyar’ika - darling, beloved, or sweetheart Kriff - essentially fuck in star wars language lmao

[pedrobois-fanfic-collections]

MandoxReader: The Escapee Pt4

I don’t really know what I wrote

You watched the door to the Razor Crest close, Grogu in your arms. The child cooed sadly as his dad disappeared from sight.

“I know, little guy, he’ll be back though.” You muttered unconvincingly, taking Grogu’s hand and squeezing it gently.

The Crest had landed a short while ago on the planet Voss. Voss was home to a cunning alien race known for its trickery and deception, its complete neutrality always between the Republic and the Empire, and unusual affinity with the force. One of Mando’s bounties had chosen to hide out here. Or perhaps, one of Mando’s bounties was a Voss. He didn’t say.

You felt uneasy as you set Grogu down so you could make him a snack.

Sighing, you shook your head. You had no business fretting over the Mandalorian, he could handle himself. Besides, you had only known the fearsome warrior a few days at this point. What reason could you possibly have beyond a business relationship for caring about him?

You bit your lip as your cheeks heated up from the steam coming off the water heating on the stove. The water sure had heated up fast, your marveled, idly.

Eventually the stew properly heated and you set it before Grogu. He looked at it uninterested.

“C’mon, you’re going to have to eat at some point, I know you miss your dad.”

Grogu’s ears drooped, and his normally bright black eyes looked dull.

You pondered for a moment before holding up your index finger.

Turning around, you climbed up the ladder to the cockpit and found the lever with the ball that always caught Grogu’s eye. Quickly you twisted it free and returned back to the lower level.

“Grogu.” You started softly, holding it out, “I have something for you.”

Grogu looked up excitedly, noticing the ball. Holding out his hands and squinting his eyes, you watched as he focused for a moment. His whole body seemed to shake and then suddenly… the ball shot out of your hand.

Your mouth dropped open and you gasped.

“How did you do that?” You blinked at him. “That was incredible!”

Grogu cooed softly, gripping the ball tightly and rolling it back and forth in his hands.

“Ok, well now you have it, you have to eat some soup, that was the deal.” You put your hands on your hips.

Grogu looked up at you and opened his mouth with a cross between a smile and a giggle.

You bent down and handed the soup bowl to him, “drink up, you have to be big and strong like your dad. Got it, mister?”

Carefully setting the ball down next to him, Grogu took the bowl from you and began to drink. All the while, he watched you curiously from over the bowl, seeming to wonder what you would do. You sat down opposite him, and drank your own soup, watching him just as closely.

Eventually the two of you finished your meals and you Grogu’s eyes began to droop. You carefully scooped him into your arms, climbed the short distance into the cockpit and placed him gently in his pram. With a soft his, the pram slid shut and the world disappeared around him.

You smiled, pleased at your first day of babysitting.

Looking around, you wondered what you were supposed to do now. Mando’s captain chair stared invitingly back at you. You pictured him sitting in it, spinning around to face you; how he would stare imperiously down at you from the black visor of his helmet.

Feeling dangerous, you twisted the chair around and sank into it.

The chair was surprisingly comfortable. No wonder Mando often slept in it. You shifted around, finding a position you liked and leaning your head to the side. Yea. This wasn’t too bad, you figured, you could sleep here if you needed. You glanced at the copilot’s chair, that one hadn’t been that uncomfortable either, now that you considered it.

You started upright.

There was a noise down below.

Listening intently, you held your breath, straining to hear.

The Crest’s outer door closed.

You looked to Grogu and shoved his pram into a corner hoping it wouldn’t be noticed. Cursing yourself softly, you remembered you left the blaster Mando had given you in the event of an intruder down below.

But then, no one could get on the Crest without armed entry.

So it had to be…

“Mando?” You mumbled uncertainly, slowly rising from the seat and walking over to the ladder. He couldn’t have been gone for more than three hours. Mando had assured you this would be an overnight bounty.

You heard the ‘fresher door open and close and nothing else.

Silently you waited for the water to turn on, but nothing came.

Growing uneasy, you climbed down the ladder and looked around, blinking.

Mando’s pauldrons were discarded in a haphazard pile outside the door to the ‘fresher. You recoiled in confusion. Looking around as you saw a trail of discarded weapons and a poor attempt at removal of armor.

Concern rising, you moved to knock on the ‘fresher door.

There was silence for a moment before a strained, “Yes?” From a modulated helmet. That was good, he was still wearing his helmet.

You exhaled slowly, “Um, are you alright? There’s a bunch of weapons out here and some armor…” You trailed off, bending down and picking up the pauldrons. It was your first real opportunity to examine the crest so closely, some sort of horned creature.

There was heavy thudding and shifting from within the ‘fresher and the door opened.

Your eyes widened in shock at the sight before you.

Mando, still wearing his helmet, his boots, and his trousers. Though with his shirt half tangled over his head, one glove still on, his cloak seeming to be half attached and otherwise the rest of his armor lying behind him in a pile on the floor.

It took all your willpower to keep your mouth from dropping open and gawking the deeply tanned skin of his torso, marred with a myriad of scars but deeply toned. Fighting to keep your words you blinked and forced yourself to look back up at the visor that was slightly obscured by his tattered shirt.

“What happened, why are you-?” You looked back down at his torso and noticed a bloodied wound in his side. It seemed relatively small, but Mando was cringing in pain and nearly doubled over from its location. You looked closer and saw from the wound, it seemed to radiate black lightning on the skin. Angry jagged bolts arching across his skin far away from the initial wound and spreading fast. “Poison.” You breathed.

Mando gripped the doorway with both hands, sliding down to his knees, hitting the ground hard and shook his head. “They expected me.” He groaned, moaning softly in pain. A thin sheen of sweat began to build up on his skin.

You bit your lip, looking around. “You’re going to want that helmet off, I can see the fever coming.”

“No.” Mando shuddered.

“Maker help me.” You shook your head. “Where’s your medkit, please tell me you have kolto, bacta at least? Something?”

Mando nodded, “Just keep Grogu safe.”

“I’ll keep you alive too, damn fool.” You grumbled, stalking off to look for the kit. “It’s a stupid creed!” You called over your shoulder.

When you returned, kit in hand, Mando was slumped against the ‘fresher wall, the wound inky black in a solid circle. The jagged lightning strikes had spread further through his body, across his veins.

You grabbed a vibroknife from his boot and slashed the last of his shirt apart, pulling it from his head, careful not to remove his helmet.

The movement jolted Mando back to life.

With viselike strength his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. You yelped, crying out. “Hey! I was just getting your shirt off!”

Immediately he released your hand and pulled back. “I’m sorry.”

Choosing to forgo rubbing your wrist, you grabbed the bacta shot and stabbed it into the worst of the poison. “That should stop the spread. And ease the pain.” Biting your lip, you reached around his head and slipped your hand under his helmet.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t take your helmet off to check for a fever, so this is the best I can do.” You pressed your hand to the back of his neck, hand brushing against soft locks of hair. It was hard not to wonder what color they were, though given the bits of hair poking up on his stomach, you had a vague idea. You swallowed hard.

The visor stayed fixedly on you.

“We’ve gotta get you cooled down.” You mumbled, glancing at the shower.

“I am cold.” Mando muttered, leaning his head back.

You reached into the medpac for more things, “This should help with fever.” You smeared it on the wound. “But into the shower you go.”

Mando rested his hand on top of yours as you smeared the medicine. The black of the visor staring down at your combined hands.

You felt your cheeks heat up again as you laughed nervously, “Heh, heh, oh great, the delirium is setting in… oh goody, this is just what I need.” You pulled your hand away, but he held fast. “Look, why don’t you get cleaned up in the shower, while I go look on the holonet what type of poison this is and we can look up an antidote and then get this taken care of, hmm, what do you think?”

“I’m cold.” Mando mumbled.

“And the shower is very warm. See, let me show you.” You moved to stand up but with surprising strength given his feverish state, he tugged you back into his arms and held you against his chest. How Mando could possibly be cold was beyond you, the guy was a radiator of heat. You imagined if he was on Hoth he would be the perfect person to be stuck up against. With his bare chest pressed up against your light shirt you could feel the fevered heat seeping into your skin, another heat of your own you were trying to ignore in your own body along your face, neck and chest.

“Mesh’la.” Mando hummed.

“Uh, listen. I don’t know what that means but I don’t think you’re in your right mind to be saying it.”

Mando pressed his helmet to your forehead and held it there for a moment, before pulling away and slumping against the wall. He seemed satisfied but still gripped you tight in his arms.

“Mando.” You whined, “You’ve been poisoned, I don’t know if it’s lethal. Get in the damn shower and let me go look for an antidote.” It was becoming more and more difficult to think as your cheek was rubbed more against his chest. Why were you complaining so much really? If you wanted, you could just pepper his smooth skin with kisses, and he would let you.

You pushed on his chest abruptly.

“Get in the shower right now.”

“Anything for you, mesh’la.” Mando still seemed dazed as he extricated himself from you, slowly stumbling towards the shower.

You walked over and turned on the water as cold as you could make it. “Take your helmet off too.” Turning around, you listened for a difference in the sound of the water. Satisfied by the change you abruptly heard a Mando speak.

“What the hell?” It was weird hearing his voice without the modulator, and you knew you would miss it.

“You’ve been poisoned and delirious. I need to get on the holonet to see what the antidote is too it, but the fever has been the worst part from what I can tell.”

“Is that why you’re in the ‘fresher with me?” Did Mando sound shy?

“I made you keep your helmet on. Trust me, your delirious self was all too happy to take it off.”

The water turned off. There was a soft hissing noise and Mando’s voice was modulated once again, “Thank you for respecting,” he trailed off, stumbling forward.

You caught him, “Don’t worry about it. It’s basic respect.”

“You’d be surprised.” Mando’s voice sounded weak, “Just about everyone else is eager to see us without our helmets.”

You shrugged, “Yea, well I guess I’m not everyone else.”

“You’re not curious?”

“Oh I’m completely curious, but if you’re going to show me, I’ll know it when you’re ready.”

Mando nodded.

“Now you sit down, I’ll go get you a blanket so you don’t get too cold, and I’ll be right back.”

During the time that you were downstairs, Grogu had woken up. After looking through the holonet in the cabin and finding the ingredients that would be necessary – a solution of bacta and some berries rare to Voss but common to most other planets – you brought Grogu with you back down to where you left Mando.

Grogu rushed over to Mando’s side and cooed excitedly to see his father back so soon.

“I didn’t get the bounty.” Mando grunted.

Grogu tilted his head.

“I don’t think this one is worth it.” You interjected.

Mando looked at you but didn’t say anything.

“I think tonight we should sleep in the hull.”

Mando tilted his head and Grogu’s ears perked up.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to sleep alone in case the poison acts up again and the hull is the biggest area for everyone to bunk out. I don’t want your fever to come back. That delirium was,” you bit your lip, “scary.”

Mando was once in a shirt, though his armor was still removed, the wound now wrapped. It was a small wound after all, but the poison had its lingering effects.

“I have the larger room. You could just stay in my room if it’s about making sure I don’t become delirious again.” Mando offered.

You swallowed hard, “Uh, sure, that works.”

-

Bedtime quickly arrived and you found yourself staring at Mando’s bed.

There was room for two. Loosely speaking.

If those two people were rather close together.

Maker help you.

Mando walked up behind you completely devoid of armor and now only wearing the clothing he wore under his armor. And of course his helmet.

“You sure you want to sleep in that helmet?” You asked.

Mand stared back at you, silent for a bit.

You were just about to assume he wasn’t going to answer when he broke his silence.

“I suppose there’s one way.”

You swallowed hard, turning to look at him fully.

Mando bent down and rummaged in one of the boxes and pulled out a particularly tattered cloak of his. With impressive strength, he ripped it further and held it up to you. You looked at it and he motioned for you to turn around. Carefully, he slid the piece of material over your eyes, tying it behind your head until the world was completely black.

“Can you see?” Came the modulated voice from behind you.

You shook your head.

There was a soft his, a light clunk and then, in that same soft deep voice you had heard before, “Good.”

You smiled, turning back around and blindly reaching around, trying to pat his shoulder. Mando grabbed your hand as you waved your hand through the air. With his hand as a point of reference, you reached out and managed to almost pat him on the shoulder. “There, now you can be comfortable.”

Mando chuckled and you found it sounded much softer than it did beneath the modulated tone.

“Alright you, time for bed.”

Din stared at you in awe, a smile stuck on his face as he watched you blindly climb into the bed. Grogu was already locked into his pram for the night. But you, to volunteer to let Din sleep comfortably and keep his creed… and to do this to make sure the poison didn’t flare up again in the middle of the night.

Din watched you collapse on the bed rolling over onto your back and giggling as you accidentally took up the whole cot. He didn’t remember any of the delirium episode, but he did long to crawl over you, straddle your hips and kiss you until you couldn’t think straight, if you let him. Another time.

Crawling in after you, Din slid you over and pressed his back to yours so as to give you the most privacy and space. He stiffened in pleasant surprise as you subconsciously wriggled your back into him. The two of you soon fast asleep.

[alderaani]

Congratulations live u deserve it ❤ can I request prompt 1 with Wooley please? The boy doesn't get enough love 😭

Nelbs ily very much  ❤ ❤ i wasn’t sure which prompt list this was for, so you’re getting both the cliches prompt and the one-word prompt a bit later. an avalanche of wooley content for u! prompt list linked below and i’m gonna say it’s open until the end of the weekend if anyone wants to send me a late request.

“There’s people chasing us and I pulled you into the alley with me and wow you’re close”:

Wooley is so close to you that you can feel his chest heaving under his plastoid armour. Your joint breathing echoes, ricocheting off the buildings you have wedged yourself between, your legs tangled awkwardly where they are jammed against the wall. Wooley’s helmet tilts and he goes still; you try to follow, gulping down air and holding it as long as you can before letting it all out in a whoosh.

“I think we lost them,” he whispers, leaning forward slightly. You strain your ears, but he’s right. All you can hear is the faint ever-present noise of Coruscant’s traffic, and the distant thrum of music from a nearby cantina.

“Cody’s going to kill us,” you say miserably, your breath misting in the cold air. You wish that you’d had the sense to bring a jacket – you hadn’t expected to end the night crouched in a smelly alleyway, hiding from the Coruscant Police. Really, though, you probably should have known better.

“Aw, come on, how’s he gonna know it was us?”

You stare at Wooley’s in exasperation. Specifically, you stare at the very distinctive yellow stripes on his helmet that imitate his mohawk, and the little Gutkurr he has painted on his left pauldron.

“How is he not gonna know it was us? Who the hell else uses 212th gold on their armour?” You sigh in frustration. “I keep telling you guys to wear your greys to 79s.”

You can’t see his expression through the visor, but you can imagine the grimace he’s inevitably wearing.

“The day I wear that kriffing cap it’ll be a warm day on Hoth.”

“Well, it’s too late now anyway. I hope the others all escaped.” You irritably blow at a strand of hair and try to cross your arms, but just succeed in wedging them against the front of Wooley’s chestplate. “Oops, sorry.”

A funny noise comes through the modulator. Wooley reaches up a hand and fumbles with his bucket, lifting it with a couple of deft movements. With his free hand he runs a hand through his sweat-soaked mohawk, reviving the squashed curls with a quick shake of his head. His cheeks are flushed from all the running and at the feel of his warm breath hitting your face, you feel the bottom fall out of your stomach with a sick swoop.

All of a sudden all you can think about is the way his armoured body is pressing against you from ankle to shoulder, and the way his brown eyes gleam in the dim light. He is a heavy, solid weight, and now that the adrenaline is fading it is getting very hard to ignore the way his thigh is wedged between your own.

“D’you think it’s safe to head back yet?” You whisper slightly desperately, hating the way your voice has gone high and breathy without your permission. Wooley tilts his head, gaze boring into you, and you suddenly feel hot all over, lit on fire by the path of his eyes.

“Y-yeah, sure, give me a second,” he says, then tries to move and freezes when his thigh presses even further, the tips of your noses brushing. “I – shit, sorry – hang on –“

“No – let me –“ You squeak, shifting yourself and promptly slipping on the grimy alley floor. “Oh – fuck –“

Wooley flings an arm up before you can topple sideways and suddenly his forearms are framing your face, the beautiful brown of his eyes swallowing up your field of view. If you tilted your nose an inch to the left, your lips would touch, and you see the second he realises it too, his eyes going wide. His breath fans over you in a shaky exhale and you feel him swallow, a tight nervous thing.

“Wooley –“ you murmur desperately, fisting your hands over the sides of his chestplate. “Wooley, I – “

“Yeah, cyar’ika?” he mumbles, his bottom lip catching yours for the briefest moment, sending electricity bolting through your belly.

Just a tiny bit further – just a whisper. You tilt your chin forwards, feeling your heart pound –

Then suddenly, in the near-distance, sirens start wailing.

You flop back with a sigh. Wooley curses and jams his bucket back on, glancing back out into the street.

“Hey – we’re gonna talk about this later.” He says as you wriggle out of the alleyway together.

You reach down and join your hands, grinning at him before you start running.

“Good, I’m counting on it.”

[kotaface]

Cassian + Cold Headcanon

So I know it’s a pretty common headcanon that Cassian is always cold/hates the cold but like? He was born on an ice planet? Lived there most of his childhood? How would he NOT be warm-blooded?

I just can’t imagine that he is sensitive to cold temperatures. If anything he should be comfortable on Hoth because it’s cold like Fest. Doesn’t mean he couldnt hate the cold, because he could easily associate it with bad memories of his childhood. But I just don’t see him being bothered by it physically. Think about people who live in northern Alaska. They come to the lower 48 and start sweating at 75 degrees F. I see Cassian being like that — sensitive to heat, not cold.

So in my stuff it’s Jyn that’s always cold, not Cassian. He likes to make fun of her for it, but he will happily snuggle her and barter for extra blankets so that she’s warm.

And that’s my headcanon.

[ecopoeticsuchicago]

In the wake of a Hurricane

 (Or other nature/catastrophe documentary)

 By Sam Audette

The poem I have chosen is a song by Frank Ocean from his most recent album, Blonde, called “Pink+White.”

 I first picked him before choosing the song. I did a Somatic ritual several times of holding one leg elevated and focusing as continuously as possible on my elevated foot while I wrote down present notes in my hands, this was a pose I have seen Frank take in videos. However, after choosing Pink+White, I decided this wasn’t the right ritual and then reverse engineered notes that I would imagine Frank would have written as he developed the song. Then I came to my Ritual which was to watch a documentary on Hurricane Katrina, (the clear CONTEXT of this song by the New Orleans singer) right before bedtime and then wake up the next morning and go for a run to the point, recording audio notes as I run on my IPhone5s. At the point I stood on the base of a dead tree hoping to lift it up again or at least stimulate it and the other trees around. Tree stimulation is critical, trees must remember more than you.

My phone froze halfway after my mother FaceTimed me (I FORGOT TO GO ON AIRPLANE MODE!), so half of my notes were from memory, half from transcribing the audio.

 Broke back Fountain, Improving Your Memories

I was on the move

 thawed grass, winter south sun

   It’ll freeze again soon,

whisper

   soft sand

  how was winter going

 I was listening--

Just to keep it down, I

kept it down.

 I stood on the broken tree

The great lake

Lifting from its base

the trees and I

discussed,

how cold

we’d be on Hoth.

Whoooooooooosh

 Let us go on with your day

           won’t you

Broke up in ’13

during the blizzard

we drank way too much

I needed to file reclaim on me

Shweater sick sweat

my sheets after 3

I couldn’t play for shit the next day

but you

didn’t seem to mind

I looked cute

my ears poking out my bandana

that was ’16.

        Random / absolute

overlapping brothel rooms, as seasons dip in

it was not his fault he fell for you

barefoot, after school, pansie picking

ears poking through my hat

you kept em jarred up in your room

 After I had hung up my shoes

Won you back in timberlands

behind the MSI,

liquid trashcan

last stop on a bender

what can I really remember

I grew up with my head down

ears poking out—through my cap

When the wind sighed

Floodlight on me,

aerowaves + cranes high

 I remember, you died

and you died.

In the worst storm

of those years

walking by the lake

just the three of us

  diamond green eyes

brought us back down to the cave

         where we all knew.

 Reregister in the aftermath.

 Sit down talk it out.

  No Snags after that

Winter.

[thesearchforbluejello]

10 stories’ first lines I’m coming to this party uninvited, because I really want to hear what people have to say. My last ten works were all Rogue One (and all rebelcaptain because I'm trash for that right now), but I'm hoping my Voyager peeps will be willing to weigh in even if you haven't read them! I'm including the first few lines of each, since that seems to be what everyone is doing... Also these are in order of newest first, so really the series starts with #10...   Rules: list the first lines of your last 10 published stories. See if there are any patterns yourself, or have other people say what they notice. Tag up to 10 friends!

1) From my upcoming fic,Collateral Silence: (even thogh the prompt said "published")

"Cassian hauls Jyn to her feet with a hand fisted in her jacket. She stumbles beside him as she regains her footing, throwing an arm up over her head as another secondary blast sounds behind them, muted and seemingly distant through the hazy ringing in their ears. Sheets of ash and dust slant down towards them from the billowing pillar clawing at the sky above the compound. The smell of the fire burns caustic in his nose."

2) Crumbling

"They're waiting for him in the hangar bay.

He assumes they must know enough about how totally fucked the mission ended up, even if they don't know the details, because there's no other reason they'd all be here.

Baze and Chirrut are sitting on a crate, watching him silently. Bodhi is beside them, rocking from heel to toe, toe to heel, expending nervous energy in a steady rhythym. K is next to him, standing taller, more stiffly than he does when at rest. And Jyn-- Jyn is in front of them, standing at an angle that places her directly in the path he needs to take to return to his quarters."

3) Fever Fear

"When the guard opens the door, Cassian is ready. He's on the floor, limp, looking for all the world like he's unconscious, but as soon as the guard is close enough he strikes. One kick to the back of the man's legs takes him to the ground. Once the guard on the floor, it's over quickly. A sharp punch to the throat renders him incapable of crying out; Cassian chokes him into unconsciousness before he has a chance to free himself.

Cassian snags the guard's blaster, staggering to the door as the effort of subduing the man grips him, clutching and pulling at his already exhausted muscles. He's burning up, has been for hours, and the sweat that's dampening his clothes is making him shiver in the cool hallway. His head continues to pound even though the lights are mercifully dim. Whatever that was they'd given him, he feels like shit."

4) Firelight

The village is absolutely wild with sound.

Cassian feels like he's suffocating in it, pulled under by a tidal wave of music and shouts and laughter and noise. The kyber crystal is hot against his skin, a constant beneath the undulating, uproarious din of the rebel celebration.

He'd barely noticed it was there most days since Jyn left, since his life had stop-started like a suffering heart back into what it had been before her. It was for the best, he'd thought, to be able to throw himself into the war again without a constant reminder that he had something to lose. He only felt the warmth sometimes, when he wanted to let the war chew him up without caring if it spit him back out. It made him believe that she was still alive even when his own sense of rationality whispered dark things in the night.

It's night now, as he wanders along the edges of the celebration, under a sky violent with stars obscured with the light and smoke of bonfires.

5) Sound and Silence

"He thinks he hears his name.

It's a distant, distorted, half-suffocated sound, and for a moment he assumes he must have imagined it.

He's weightless and comfortably disoriented, floating in liminality. There's no sound in space, he thinks belatedly, so it must just be a trick of his imagination. If he opens his eyes he sees hazy pinpricks of light through the darkness, little stars shining in the night, but he shuts his eyes again because they're too bright.

He thinks he hears his name, again, the saddest song he's ever heard.

6) Infinite Sea

"The sea is bleeding into the sky.

The water is gold, the surface fractured like a shattered mirror, the waves brushing the sand with a whispered sibilance.

She watches the horizon burn away.

Cassian's hair is soft against her cheek, his hand gripping her neck so tightly it aches. She can feel every breath he takes, the fine tremor of his battered body, their grief and relief dissolving into a single emotion without name. She holds him tightly, desperately, clutching him to herself as though he's not fragile, brittle, ready to fade from her grasp like the horizon.

7) The Gravity of Water

"Cassian has had a headache since they left the hangar bay on Echo Base, and the argument that's been stewing between K and Jyn as they prep to leave the ship is the last thing he wants to listen to.

"I'm merely trying to point out--" K begins.

"I already said no," Jyn snaps, not even looking up from her bag.

"Why won't you listen to me?" K says, crossing his arms in a petulant move that Cassian has noted is occurring with far greater frequency since Jyn joined their team just a few months ago. K would never admit it, of course; Cassian knows he'd sooner rip out his own circuitry.

8) Breath

"There are civilians running in a screaming, frantic hoard, shoulders bumping and pushing and shoving as Cassian tries to get past them. The comms are frighteningly silent.

There's rubble on the ground even this far down the street, angled sheets of ash and dust wafting towards him as he runs. The tie fighters come again, but they scream overhead without firing a shot, rising into the atmosphere until they dissolve into the distance.

"Cassian-- Cassian do you copy?" He recognizes the fast words and clipped syllables for what they are: concern.

"K, I'm here. I'm here." Breathing through the dust is becoming difficult; he holds the sleeve of his jacket over his nose and mouth as best he can.

9) In the Space Between

"By the second hour of snoring, Jyn is ready to slip a vibroblade between his ribs just to make it stop. She's freezing in her bunk, the cold of Hoth seeping through the poorly heated infrastructure of Echo Base, creeping between the fibers of her blankets to curl around her. Her bruised hip aches fiercely in the cold.

Her bunkmate snores again-- which one it is, she's not even sure-- and she bites back the urge to shout. She tears her blanket off her bunk and rolls to the edge as best she can without jostling her hip.

10) To Return

"When K finally manages to open the door, Cassian slips through as soon as it's wide enough for his body. In the dark of the cell, he can barely distinguish the shape on the floor from the shadows cloying around her.

"Jyn," he breathes, because it must be her, he knows it's her, small and fragile and entirely unmoving on the duracrete floor. He hesitates for a moment, just a moment, something frightened and wary clawing at his stomach before he rushes forward, hand still tight on the grip of his blaster. The slice of light burning its way across the cold floor glints in her half lidded eyes for a moment as he drops to one knee beside her. "Jyn," he says again, because words are failing him in the wake of his immense relief that she's even still alive. "We came back; we came to get you," he says, the words rushing out, not at all what he wants to say, but what he must say.

As far as my own observations go, I can definitely see that I much prefer to open with narrative rather than dialogue. I don't spend a lot of time setting the scene, as it were, but open with statements contextualizing the rest of the story rather than describing extraneous details of the surroundings or situation. The Gravity of Water and To Return are the only two out of this ten that include dialogue so early in the story. I'm pretty sparce with my dialogue in general, expecially here because these two aren't particularly chatty, and I enjoy digging into the emotion rather than the words they share, which is partially why they're so interesting to write. When I do write a lot of dialogue, it's sparce in its tags and narration because I try to let the dialogue speak for itself (pun intended). I was surprised to find in these that I start off with the same things that really typify my writing: the metaphors, the strings of adjectives, the two-clause sentences that are dominated by the independent clause preceding the dependent clause. I didn't expect to see those things right off the bat, but they're definitely there.There are several first lines that are single-clause sentences, though, but I find that I don't necessarily prefer them as better hooks. I should point out the exception of Infinite Sea because I love that opening line. I also love that whole fic, but it's the fic with the least kudos and reviews out of my rebelcaptain fics, and I personally think there are several fics in there that are much weaker. Infinite Sea is also the one that really starts off with the angst that I usually try to build up to over the course of the fic. Instead of plot, it dives straight into the angst, which seems to me to be a bit atypical. I wrote this instead of sleeping so Tell me what you think!