🚫No A.I.🚫 I don't use it, so don't use it on my fics. I block blank blogs.
About me
All warnings after the links and no sad endings.
- 🖤MJ
FIC RECS: Fics I want to read /Fic Recs / Marchficmadness24 / Marchficmadness26
None of these fics use Y/N and no Real People Fiction.
Comments and reblogs are forever welcomed.
Series:
(✅=complete)
Second Chances
Mand'alor!Din x Fem!Reader(oc)
TORMENT ✅
Din Djarin x Fem!OC
Some Sort of Holy Rite ✅
Din Djarin x Fem!reader
Despoliation of the Flesh ✅
A possessed!Din
Your Majesty ✅
Mand'alor!Din x Fem!Reader
Never Say Never
Queer!Din x Queer/NB!OC
One Shots: Din Djarin
Pretend
Din Djarin x reader (Din helps you fall asleep)
Bridging Dreams
Din Djarin as Norse God Heimdall
Ni Cuy' Val (I Am They)
Din comes out to you
Expectations
Over time your employer becomes your lover. Din exceeds your expectations in every way possible. But when it comes time to finally see him...Din did not expect for you to be the one terrified to see his face.
Six
Six days, six weeks, six months, you and Din go from neighbors to friends to something more
Luck
You and Din are traveling sublight in the replacement Razor Crest. A catastrophic failure interrupts your long delayed confession. A very whumpy hurt/comfort fic. 9-1-1 in space.
Light at the End of the Tunnel
The Dark Troopers proved too much for Din in this alternate season 2 ending.
Time for a haircut, King?
A very kinky fetish indulging one shot, Din discovers he really likes getting his haircut- inspired by fan art
More PPCU ⬇️
Joel Miller
I Can Carry You
Joel Miller x FEM!OC-One shot
Bookends
Joel Miller x F!reader (enemies to lovers)- oneshot.
Dog Days are Over: A ficlet Series ✅
August '03, POV -Joel Miller's neighbor in Austin, Denise
Is Joel Okay?
Javier Peña
Happy New Year- Javier Peña x F! reader
Dieter Bravo
Just the Lilac
Dieter Bravo x F!reader
Francisco Morales
Deep Seeded Issues
Frankie Morales x reader & (young) Santiago Garcia x reader - one shot- Dead Dove December fic
Miscellaneous-
Ted Garcia
Mr. Mayor-
a voice kink fic-pwp smut
On Hiatus : Amoke! Amoke! Amoke!- Sarah Sanderson finds herself traveling far far away...
Consume fic responsibly, heed warnings. Fic is posted for fun and community engagement. Please go ahead and reblog and/or comment. I do NOT consent to any of my work being fed to any A.I; please don't do that
Can we talk about how it's time for Grogu to have a set of new outfits? some cute toddler jumpers with a little patch of the mudhorn on each Fit to represent their clan? I manifest a season 4. I manifest new outfits.
I wanted to make a post about the movie because I keep seeing comments about how "empty" of content it is or how simplistic it is, and I read a very good reflection:
I can't say It better! The post isn't mine and it's on Threads, but I needed to share it here! All credit goes to the original user.
It's a light and fun movie, yes, but that doesn't mean it's devoid of meaning. Especially when it deals with the literal remnants of fascism, criminal syndicates, human/creature trafficking... not to mention the references to gladiatorial combat, which were very interesting. We forget that what the film tells us, both about the "villains" and the shortcomings and virtues of the New Republic, are the seeds of what we see in the subsequent films. But no, Mando don't contribute anything to the "Star Wars lore".
Summary: Nev is a card dealer in Canto Bight. They have made acquaintances with Din Djarin, one particular evening goes sideways, drawing them both closer. Nev learns what Din's actual role is and when they bring him back to their apartment the conversation turns deep and a bond is formed.
Warnings: Non graphic violence inflicted on the OC, low self worth, religious guilt, coming out. This is an AU, Din does take his helmet off, and he's queer. This fic is a WIP. Potentially 4 or 5 parts. POV 1st person and an OC, what was I thinking!? Dincobb appearance, they're exes. No smut so far.
A/N: Originally written two years ago but I deleted it. Reposting for 🏳️🌈Pride 2024🏳️🌈. The model in the header art is just an approximation, but not exact.
This is definitely the queerest fic I have. And kinda personal. Completely off the wall what the fuck he would never do that fic. I don't care because what if he would!!!
I just don't know where to take the fourth act? More queer exploration? Turn it into a revenge fic because of the thing that happens at the beginning of part 1?
current fan creation landscape is kinda like if you went to a party with a homemade cake and everyone takes a slice and silently thumbs up at you with no attempt to start a conversation except for occasionally some guy sits in the corner with a tape recorder critiquing the cake as though he was a restaurant critic and another guy is handing the cake to an uber driver like "yeah i need you to find a restaurant that makes cake like this so i can have more of it" and the only person that's talked to you in 30 minutes is a very sweet little guy who was like "hey i liked your cake" and then ran away apologizing for bothering you the moment you said thank you.
someone brought a cake analysis robot to feed the cake into to determine the exact ingredients and supposedly it can spit out the exact same cake. and if you're like dude. what. then they're like well if it bothers you you should have made more cake. i'm hungry and i deserve cake. and you're like dude we're at a party.
Three months later you find out that fifty people locked themselves in a room to discuss how much they loved your cake and how they wished you made more. None of them ever told you.
thought about saving this for pride month but what the hell. here’s din and grogu at pride. may the fourth be with you.
free dad hugs is probably out of character but i don’t care. i think he’s just accumulated the stickers from random people. anyway shout out of pedro pascal for being cool.
Summary: Nev is a card dealer in Canto Bight. They have made acquaintances with Din Djarin, one particular evening goes sideways, drawing them both closer. Nev learns what Din's actual role is and when they bring him back to their apartment the conversation turns deep and a bond is formed.
Warnings: Non graphic violence inflicted on the OC, low self worth, religious guilt, coming out. This is an AU, Din does take his helmet off, and he's queer. This fic is a WIP. Potentially 4 or 5 parts. POV 1st person and an OC, what was I thinking!? Dincobb appearance, they're exes. No smut so far.
A/N: Originally written two years ago but I deleted it. Reposting for 🏳️🌈Pride 2024🏳️🌈. The model in the header art is just an approximation, but not exact.
This is definitely the queerest fic I have. And kinda personal. Completely off the wall what the fuck he would never do that fic. I don't care because what if he would!!!
I just don't know where to take the fourth act? More queer exploration? Turn it into a revenge fic because of the thing that happens at the beginning of part 1?
Summary: You are what I'd call a hyperfeminine woman, raised with strict gender customs that you've worked on distancing yourself from but still partake is some. Din reveals something to you, that you need time to fully understand. You and Din play around and experiment with your gender expression and it brings you closer.
Warnings: Established relationship. Queer!Din falls under the non-binary umbrella so you can give them any labels you choose. No smut. Fluff, minor angst. Pronoun change. Patient and soft Din. No beta and written kinda quickly.
A/N: There is no one way to be Enby and what is considered feminine and masculine in this fic alines with the western society I've grown up in. I was just thinking of Din and the little I do know of Mando'a and painted fingernails! If I tagged you, no pressure.
Masterlist
Grogu loves to watch you paint your nails. Sometimes you let him pick the color. You always offer to paint his, and when you get the brush near his little clawed hand he pulls it away and giggles.
Din hears the giggles and leans in the doorway of your room and watches.
“I like that color, it’s my favorite.” Din says, fully armored, he’ll be leaving soon on a mission with the new republic.
You coat the glossy deep red over your final digit, bringing your fingers up to your face, you blow on the paint and bat your eyelashes slowly at Din, thinking about how much you’ll miss him.
Din says nothing as he comes and sits beside you on the edge of your bed. You watch him slip his gloves off.
“Do mine.”
You pause with a slow smile, “Really?”
“Yes.”
Trying to hide your wonderment and suspicion, you wave your hands around, and the thin coat of paint dries quickly. “What color do you want?” Din looks at the little display of colors you have. He picks out a sparkly silver, “Goes with my armor.” Grogu watches from the sidelines.
“Lay your hand here, flat.” Din has watched you so many times, his hand is splayed out on the little tray you use. His big wide palms and thick fingers fill up the space.
“Well, first off…your cuticles need to be pushed back.”
Din tilts his head, “My what?”
“Here.”
You take his hand gently and get out your hand lotion, you massage his palm, focusing on the rough calluses of his repetitive motions, the trigger finger, where he held the flightstick of his Razor Crest for all of those years. Din leans back onto the post of your bed, relaxing into your touch. You could ask him to take the helmet off, as his creed allows you to see his face now. But you don’t, you know he is most comfortable some days like this, especially on days he has to leave you.
You ready each nailbed, he pulls back a little and hisses, “Ow.”
You look at him confused and concerned.
He is so dry with his humor, “I’m joking. You’re very good at this. It feels nice.”
You lay your lips softly on his knuckles before guiding his hand back down to the tray. The silver has little sparkles in it that catch the light.
“Feels weird, a little cold.” Din says as he sits calmly watching you work.
“I don’t know if it will survive your whole trip, and your daily glove wear.”
“I’ll have to bring it with me then, so I can touch up.”
You hold both of his hands, fingers resting in your palms as you blow on the paint, “You know, where I come from, men weren’t allowed to wear the same things as women, only women painted themselves. In fact, we had to. Only babies and very young girls were allowed to be seen plain. Men were expected to be as masculine as they could.”
Din starts to pull his hand back, “You’ve mentioned this before, I’m sorry, is this offensive to you? I should have asked.”
You look up at him through your eyelashes and pull his hand back in, “No, maybe at one time. But nothing about you could offend me Din.”
He nods.
“The presentation of one's gender didn’t really have many boundaries within my tribe, it wasn’t really a concern.”
“That’s interesting.”
“Do you ever think about not wearing it?” Din brushes a knuckle along your cheek, you have a full face of makeup on, shimmer on your cheeks, color on your lips, shadow on your eyes, some days you add more detail or more color, but you never go without.
“I think about it sometimes, now that I have the choice…I’m just not ready.”
“I love you with or without it you know, just as you do with me and my helmet.”
Words stick in your throat and you only respond with another kiss to his knuckles as you look at his masculine hands with painted nails. “I love you.”
Din sighs, “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Is being a woman important to you?”
“Yes, I think I’m proud to represent my people, in the way that I do. Sometimes I think of doing it differently, like we just talked about. I grew up thinking there was only one way to be a woman but I know now there are more ways.”
“But you are a woman?”
Din, in his childlike sincerity makes you smile, you almost laugh, “Yes. I am a woman.” He sits very still and looks at his painted nails. You have no idea what he is thinking because you can’t read his expressive face when he has his helmet on.
“Din…do you want to tell me what being a man is for you?”
He sighs, “No.”
“Well, okay then. Guess this conversation is a one way street.”
“I’m not a man, I don’t think I’m anything.”
You have a million ways to interpret that statement running through your head, “Can you expand on that love, I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me.”
“I mean it makes no difference to me, if someone thought I was man or woman, I don’t think of myself as either but sometimes…and especially after Grogu came along, I think I am both.”
“Because you had to fulfill the role of a mother and a father?” This concept he is trying to tell you about is so foreign to you.
“It only helped me realize it is all.”
“Realize what?”
“That I am not a man.”
“Are you saying that…” You take his hand and look at his painted nails, “That you wish you were a woman?”
Din pulls his hand away from you, he reaches up and takes his helmet off, his hair sticks up adorably, he scratches at his short beard. “I haven’t told you this because I worried it would be hard for you to understand. Cyare…I’m both, I’m bintar, I’m both and I’m none of them. My…” He squints trying to think of how you can understand, “It doesn’t matter what my sexual organs are, I don’t have to fulfill a role because of that , I don’t have to dress a certain way because of that…like how you were raised. My sex and my gender are two entirely separate things. In Mando’a we say kaysh for she and he, we also say val, which means they. I am val.”
He watches your face as the wheels turn in your head. You still can’t grasp it. What does he mean he isn’t a man, he is so strong and masculine and he protects. You look up at his big brown eyes, “Din, I’m sorry…I.”
He holds your chin, “You don’t have to understand. I understand if this changes things.”
He starts to rise from the bed and leave your room but you jump up and block the door, “No wait. I have questions.”
“Anything.” his lips curve up into a hint of a smile.
“Does this mean you’re attracted to only men? Are you still attracted to me?” you growl at yourself hearing the question out loud, “Okay don’t answer that, you’re going to say attraction and gender aren’t connected.”
“It's not a choice and they aren’t...not really, but I like all genders, and I’m attracted to the feminine and the masculine.”
“There is nothing masculine about me Din.”
He's stifling his exasperation, “I know cyare, that’s okay.”
“Do you want me to be more masculine?”
“I want you to be yourself, and that's all.”
“So what does this mean about us, what’s changed?” Your cheeks grow hot and your eyes start to burn with tears.
“Nothing my love, nothing has to change.” He pulls you into his chest and kisses the top of your head. The way he said that, nothing has to change, came out disappointed.
“Maker Din…am I keeping you from being yourself? Please don’t…” You start to full on cry now. “I’m sorry, you’ve kept these things from me because you knew it would be hard for me to understand, but stars Din, I hate the idea of you not being able to express yourself because you’re trying to protect my feelings.” You wrap your arms around him, grateful he doesn’t have his jetpack on, so you can squeeze him to you tight. “I adore you, if you want to paint your nails or do anything else that makes you feel happy, please don’t let the way I was raised stop you. I’m crying and making this about me, I’m sorry.”
You pull away and gently dab at your eyes and sniffle, “You know, maybe it will take me a moment to wrap my head around it, but I think I can.”
Din is gone for weeks. He is out of reach for the whole trip, for his safety and his families it's best he not contact you. You ruminate and rotate all the ways you’ve upset him after not understanding what he was saying about not being a man. You spend the weeks worrying you’ve pushed him away. You also spend time trying to grasp how he feels about his gender, you do that by better understanding your own. You go days without your daily ritual of hair and makeup, Grogu can’t stop staring at you quietly and it makes you laugh and you reassure him you’re fine. You look in the mirror and struggle to see yourself until one day you do and the next time you do your makeup you remember why you actually do it, because it makes you feel good and affirms the truth you know about yourself.
You wake up and decide again you will skip your ritual, thinking of Din, how many ways has he wanted to express himself but didn’t for reasons you won’t ever really know.
You’re reading in your room when you hear the front door open. Suddenly shy and nervous you walk slowly to greet them, you hear them unlatching their blaster belt and bandolier. Turning the corner you can see and hear Din is tired as he mumbles a welcome to Grogu.
Din is disarming as they look down, “I’m home cyare…”
“Hi.”
Din looks up quickly, startled by your sudden presence. They freeze as you stand barefaced in front of them. Din says nothing as they slowly reach out and take your hand, “How does it feel?”
“Well, I’ve had an extra hour I didn’t know what to do with, and Grogu keeps staring at me.”
“That didn’t answer my question.”
“I feel like something is missing, like I’m pretending I'm someone else.”
“I’m proud of you for trying something new.”
Din heads towards the fresher and you follow them, “Din I’ve been thinking and I think I might not understand exactly how you feel, but I’m here for you, please don’t diminish yourself anymore around me, or present yourself a certain way because you’re afraid you’ll lose me. I’m not going anywhere.”
Din slips their helmet off and leans in to kiss you, their beard is ragged and they have circles under their puffy eyes. Din’s lips linger on yours, you reach up and tangle your fingers into the soft curls at the nape of their neck. They release and sigh, laying their forehead on yours, “Thank you.”
You sit in the fresher and watch Din shower, grateful to see no new injuries, they can’t tell you details about the work they do. So you ramble on about Grogu and gossip from in town. Din is drying off and gets out their shaving kit. You grew up very isolated and sheltered and the first time you saw a man without a beard, in your mind you thought he was just a very unusual looking woman. So watching Din shave is absolutely fascinating to you, you’ve never watched them.
Din eyes you in the mirror, “Is this okay? You’ve never seen me clean shaven." They hover with a traditional straight razor before starting. “I don’t mind if you watch, you put up with me staring at you during your routine.”
You smile and rest your chin on your knees from where you are perched in the fresher, “I never mind when you watch, is it okay if I stay? I want to see how this is done.”
“Please stay.” Din starts to lean in and give you a peck on the cheek with their face covered in foam. You squeal and pull away.
“No, Din!”
You’re impressed with how quick and confident Din is and you cringe, worried they might knick themselves. But Din is competent at nearly every skill they have.
Din pauses to tell you, “I love watching you paint your face and your hands and all the time you take to look so…intimidating, without an ounce of weaponry. Sometimes…I wish I could do that.”
“I’m intimidating?”
“You're a powerhouse cyare.” They wipe their face dry with a towel and you see Din’s eyes light up a little as they look at themselves and that brings you joy, to see Din happy.
“I love it.” You hop down from your spot.
“Only say that if you mean it.” Din leans back onto the counter and you lean into them.
“I’m going into town, would you like to get ready with me?”
That is how you found yourself sitting on the counter as you apply the eyeliner Din picked out for themselves. It’s a reddish brown and the color goes perfect with their brown eyes and warm skin. Din’s eyes are closed as you perfectly smudge the color onto their lids. “Okay, open up and look at me.”
Din is still as they watch your face for a reaction, swallowing and saying nothing.
“Wow…oh…wow.”
“Good or bad, I should have gone with a different color.” Din looks over your shoulder into the mirror and smiles, a gorgeous wide smile.
“Told you. Now kiss me because seeing you like this has done something to me and the only remedy is a kiss at the least.”
Din’s lips lay gently on yours before melding into you, softly you feel their tongue beg entrance to your mouth. Warm and strong Din kisses you, you hold their jaw and caress the surface of it with your thumb, smooth.
You pull away, “What do I call my stunning husband who is neither my husband nor my wife, when the time comes?”
“In Mando’a the word is Riduur it means partner, wife, husband. Please let me be your Riduur.” Din squeezes you tight against their bare chest and you rest your head on their strong shoulder.
“I’d be so foolish not to.”
...
This was kinda fun to write and imagine. Quasi-femme Din does things for me for sure... I like to imagine them going further and changing their armor and uniform around on days they feel like it.
IDGAF if the women in my fiction are empowering or aspirational, I'm an adult, I don't need role models, I want the women in my fiction to be interesting, and if that involves being pathetic, hypocritical, amoral, or trapped in a delightfully dysfunctional relationship so be it
Anyone can write fanfiction and it shouldn't be held to the standards of published novels btw. Everyone has a unique perspective to offer in writing even if they haven't done everything in the world, even if they've never written a line of dialogue or one sentence of creative writing. No one person's perspective or fic is more valuable then another's, no matter the quality.
good god i forgot what it was like to watch din djarin do his thing. he’s so capable, he’s so protective, he’s so smart…. he’s a good pilot, he can fight, he fixes things….. he speaks multiple languages… his voice……… he’s so strong….
shoutout to the lady sitting in the row behind me during my most recent screening of the mandalorian and grogu, who whispered 'he's gorgeous!!!' as soon as Din's helmet came off. felt that in my soul.
okie dokie. @kedsandtubesocks tagged me twice now (thx bb) and I wanted to share these two things BUT… I’m sorry to say neither is fanfic :(
so first off is my new fun activity:
please ignore the shitty seams on the big booth!! It will be upholstered. So I’m making minis (because I needed a new hobby ofc), mostly out of recyclables. The larger set is dollhouse scale/black series figure scale (1:12) and the teeny tinies are d&d scale (1:60). If you can guess what this set is I will cry out of happiness.
These are sets to display the mini objects I’ve been making. I may also be working on a Boston QZ set to display some TLOU props…
Anyway. If you’re here for writing, I don’t have fic but I do have a snippet from the novel I’m working on 😳
this is my bb Silas and I won’t probably share more original fiction here since that’s not what y’all are here for.
anyway I’m very out of the loop rn but no pressure tags below and for anyone who wants to play!
