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#dumbass din djarin
gayspacemonk · 9 months
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Luke compels people with the force a few times but Din never notices it's a force thing, he just thinks it's common sense that people do whatever Luke wants if he smiles a little and speaks softly
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omgahgase · 1 year
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din "fuck around and find out" djarin is a hothead. he acts first then doesn't even bother asking questions after bc what's the point when the blade of his knife is already pressed to someone's throat?
luke "i will literally put myself in front of a blaster for you" skywalker is also a hothead, but he's asking questions while also trying to stay alive. sometimes it works out, other times it doesn't, tho he still manages to survive (just barely).
so what happens when these two end up dating? their sisters are officially Over It.
bo-katan needs to com leia at least once a week to check in and make sure luke hasn't asked din to go investigate another destroyed jedi temple with him and get captured by only god knows what is lurking in there (again). leia has send bo detailed reports of what din and luke destroyed while trying to save an outer rim planet from pirates or other sentients who want to take over or—and this is new—a herd of local creatures who have somehow multiplied in thousands and is now running amok. that wasn't a happy day for anyone.
bo and leia have had to drop everything they're doing tine and time again to save their brothers bc no matter how capable din and luke are, they're still humans with faults and weaknesses and so much stupidity they can fill a whole planet's ocean with it. but do they continue to do it? yeah, of course. they'd be as stupid as dinluke if they didn't.
honestly, dinluke are just two guys who want to live normally and settle down but they somehow find themselves in situations—not always caused by them!!—where they almost die and their sisters have to come to their rescue and they get their heads chewed off bc their both so stupid.
and yes, grogu is always with them, and yes, grogu is the one to snitch
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fuckedupsociety155 · 1 year
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For all that Pedro Pascal plays the 'reluctant father figure to a special child' in both tlou and the mandalorian, you gotta appreciate the dichotomy between the roles.
Like, on the one hand, you have Joel Miller, traumatized, tough guy that has and will continue to commit atrocities to keep safe those he loves. And on the other you have socially awkward, extremely likable, space himbo that despite being extremely competent in fights will absolutely walk into a body of water of unknown depth with a heavy af beskar armor and no jetpack, and sink rigth to the bottom.
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yamineftis-art · 2 years
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Most relatable Din Djarin, happy Star Wars day!!
(part of some Mando sticker sheets I made for a past con)
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Din accidentally duplicates all of the photos on his comm but refuses to delete any of the duplicated photos of Luke and Grogu.
He never deletes photos of them even if he's fully aware they're duplicates.
He is lucky hes friends with Peli as she constantly gets him comm storage upgrades.
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he had me in the first half i aint even gonna lie 😔✋ BAHAHAH YOU COULD LITERALLY SEE DIN’S BODY RELAX WHEN HE REALIZED PAZ WAS ROCKING W HIM ,, this is the mf way dog
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marisferasiop · 8 months
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So uh. Fuse part 2 is long asf.
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I still have at least 2 scenes to finish 🤫
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There's like 4 smut scenes and it's incredibly domestic, you're welcome
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sithzuko · 1 year
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thinking about din “is that a bench” “are you a jedi” “this is the seeing stone, are you seeing anything” djarin on this very fine day
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secondstar-acorn · 1 year
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Rewatching the mandalorian truly cracks me up i forgot how Head Empty No Thoughts din’s helmet makes him look
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lights-on-the-ridge · 2 years
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The ONLY things in my brain right now are Carmy Beratto and Din Djarin, and boy oh man is it an interesting combo
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Dincobb 🤝 Ineffable Husbands
Arrangements
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jksprincess10 · 11 days
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Fix it part II
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Summary: Din Djarin promised to break more things to bring them to you. After many moons, he comes back - with another woman, and Grogu. You're furious with him, but your patience is eventually rewarded. (3700 words)
CW: two idiots in love, Din is a dumbass, Bo Ka-Tan is kind of mean, fast paced romance, angst, fluff, reader has a nickname related to her work (fix), jealousy, canon divergent, unprotected p in v, oral (f & m), come eating, tummy bulge I guess, fingering, pet names in mando'a, praise kink, squirting, marriage.
Catch up on part 1 here.
Divider by @saradika-graphics
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“I will keep breaking things and bringing them to you.”
That’s what he said. Many moons ago. You kept hoping, counting the days since he last came. You knew he was gone to get his redemption. Maybe he had run into some trouble… Or maybe he had found another woman, more worthy of being his wife, elsewhere.
So, you occupied your days. You fixed an old ship that a past costumer left as payment, hoping to make it fly some day. Hoping to go through the galaxy to find Din Djarin. Maybe hope was futile. And maybe you were a hopeless romantic. But you thought he truly liked you.
You were stuck in your daydreaming when the bell announced someone coming into your workshop. You had expanded it since the last time, business was booming, and you could now park a full ship in it. You came out from under the ship you were fixing up, your exposed skin dirtied by grease and various substances. You wiped your soiled hands on your apron, leaving a trace of grease on it, before looking up to see who had come by. There was a woman with short red hair and a square jaw. She wore Mandalorian armor.
The woman gave you a disgusted look and you were going to greet her rudely when you heard the familiar heavy steps of your Mandalorian. Your chest tightened. Was this his new woman?
“Fix, I hope we’re not bothering you.” He said as he looked around. “I see you extended your workshop. It’s nice.”
There was a third person, little steps behind him, and you looked down to see Grogu. You gave him a smile and approached Mando, totally ignoring the woman with him.
“Always have time for my favorite client.” You looked up at him, clearly remembering the pretty brown eyes and the beautiful face under the helmet.
The red-headed woman sighed loudly. “If you’re done flirting, I need you to fix my jetpack. Can you do it?”
“Of course, she can.” Cut Din. “You can, right?” He added quietly.
“I’m rebuilding this whole ship, so I don’t think a jetpack is a tall order for me.” You took the object from the woman’s hands, a bit roughly. “Do you have anything to pay, ma’am?” You asked through gritted teeth.
She handed you a small bag of credits, that you grabbed.
“This will do. Now, I don’t really like having strangers around when I work.”
“Lady Kryze, why don’t you watch the ship for me?” Din asked, and you’re thankful that he did.
“Of course. Please don’t take too long.” With that, she was gone, and you finally felt like you could breathe again.
You dropped the jetpack on your worktable while Grogu stood curiously next to you. You took the little creature in your arms and put him on a stool next to you, so he could watch.
“You seem tense.” Noticed Din in an awkward tone.
“I guess I just didn’t expect you to come by after many moons with another woman.” You said as you opened the jetpack. You noticed that a few parts were burnt. You turned around to look at Din.
“It’s not what you think.” The Mandalorian rushed to say, gloved hands up in the air as defense.
“Yeah, so what is it then, Din?” You asked, your fists against your hips to restrain yourself from punching him.
“Just a friend, whom I’m helping. And who helped me redeem myself.”
“Ah, so it is done, then. I’m glad I had news from you.” You responded sarcastically.
Grogu let out a worried coo, like he was witnessing his parents fighting.
“Listen, it’s not that I didn’t want to…”
You turned around abruptly to examine the parts you would need, purposefully ignoring Din. Nothing you had on hand. “I can’t fix it right now, I’m afraid I will need some replacement parts.” You changed the subject.
“Tell me what you need, and I’ll get it for you.”
“Yeah, and you’ll come back after how many cycles, Din? How long will I have to wait for you?” You hated that your voice cracked when you were upset. You heard him come closer, and you felt his gloved hands on your shoulders. The leather felt heavy against the soft fabric of your work clothes.
The Mandalorian hated seeing you heartbroken because of him. He didn’t know what to say and wasn’t good at all with feelings. He just knew he should have stayed with you.
You felt your body fall in his embrace, his arms tightening around your shoulders to keep you close. You felt the heaviness of his helmet resting against your shoulder.
“I’m sorry, mesh’la. Please, come with us. I promise I won’t leave you anymore.” The modulated voice was shaky.
You turned around in his embrace and pressed your palms against the lines of his helmet where his cheeks would be. You could almost see his eyes. Well, you imagined them.
“I’ll come with you and fix your friend’s jetpack and then what…?”
“Then, we will do whatever you want.”
“I thought you wanted to reclaim Mandalore…” The rough pad of his gloved fingers wiped the tears away from your eyes. You almost forgot Grogu’s presence, until he made a sound that you could only attribute to sadness.
“I can’t do it if that means staying away from you and breaking your heart.”
You were going to respond when you heard the bell from the door. You stepped away from Mando and you observed the woman in Mandalorian armor, visibly impatient.
“So, can you fix it?” She asked in an annoyed tone.
“I’m afraid I’m missing some pieces. I have a contact on Tatooine who deals with a lot of recycled Mandalorian armor parts. He comes by once every cycle maybe… but it would be faster for me to get to him. He will be able to help us.”
“Fine, get your things and let’s go.”
You didn’t like being bossed around, but you stayed silent. They waited for you outside with the child as you gathered the essentials for a short trip, and you changed out of your dirty work clothes. You put your pack on your shoulders and went outside to follow Din and the woman.
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The silence in the ship was heavy and awkward. So much so that you disappeared in the back of the ship to play with the baby. The woman – Bo Ka-tan – made you feel uneasy and unwelcomed. You wished you were only with Din in this moment.
“Are you hungry, mesh’la?”
You lifted your chin to admire your Mandalorian standing over you, his towering and intimidating stature turning you on more than anything. Maker, if you two were alone in that exact moment…
“Not really. I think I’ll just rest, but I can feed Grogu if you need me to.”
“I’ll take care of him.”
“Where… do I sleep?”
“Take my cot.  We have two. I won’t go to sleep in a while.”
You nodded and you gave Grogu back to Din, who soothed him delicately in his arms. Din leaned down and bumped his head slightly against yours, which you could only interpret as a kiss.
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The cot was a tight space and once the door of the minuscule room was shut, it was plunged in deep darkness, which made it easy for you to fall asleep. You woke up only when you heard the door slide open and felt the weight of a body next to yours.
“I didn’t mean to wake you up, sorry.” Apologized Din when he heard you moving around.
“S’okay.” You slurred, half asleep.
It was so dark; you couldn’t even see his silhouette. You could just feel it. Your hands felt around the minuscule bed until you found the strong shape of his body. Instead of being met with cold beskar, your fingers felt the warmth of his skin. You traced his bicep until you found his neck, then his cheek. It was still scruffy, like you remembered, his unkept beard still on his chin and lower cheeks. You heard him chuckle slightly as he threw an arm around you to bring you close.
“You’re trying to rediscover my body, mesh’la?”
“Yes. I missed it. I missed you.”
“I promise we’ll get married, and you’ll be able to see my face every day.”
“You make a lot of promises.” You whispered back, before bringing his face closer to yours. Your noses bumped together, and you finally found his lips. You abandoned yourself fully to the mercy of his mouth, letting him guide you in softness and lustfulness. “Please don’t tell me you’ll marry me only because you like having sex with me.” You said playfully against his lips.
“I genuinely love you, mesh’la. Don’t want to stay away from you anymore.”  And you believed him.
“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum (I love you).”
“You’re learning mando’a? We’ll work on your pronunciation.”
“Well, I had to occupy myself in one way.” You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see you.
“You’re so special, Fix.”
You rolled over so your body was on him, your thighs straddling his waist. You already felt his arousal through the thin layers of fabric you both wore. You rolled your hips slightly against him. You heard him sigh, and you could imagine him lips parted, head relaxed against the hard pillow.
“What do you want, Din?”
“Whatever you think I deserve after leaving you for so long.”
“Be careful what you wish for.” You whispered as you lowered your upper body so you could kiss his jaw with rough hair growing there, his strong jaw, his thick neck. You sucked lightly on the skin there, imagining red staining the gold of his skin.  His hands held your lower back, and you heard him sigh again. You missed how vocal Din was when you were alone, but it would be for another time. Your lips traced his chest, following an invisible line until you met with his groin. You used both of your hands to take off his underwear. Your fingers wrapped around his girth, lowering his foreskin so you could kitten-lick his leaking tip. You heard him whimper softly, and you took this as an encouragement as you closed your lips around the head, hollowing your cheeks to put more pressure and suction. When you got tired of teasing, you lowered your head, taking more of his cock in your mouth, until your own hand stopped you. Your hand wrapped at the bottom of his girth slid up and down as you sucked the rest in your mouth.
“Kriff… you’re so good at this.”
You sucked a few times, before taking him out of your mouth, licking his length before you said. “I know.”
 His hands closed around your jaw so he could pull you up and kiss you. You undressed yourself, barely breaking the kiss. Din switched your positions, his large body a shadow in your vision. Din’s lips latched onto every parcel of skin he could find, until they wrapped around one of your nipples, making it hard as he popped it out of his mouth. He gave your other one a similar treatment as you writhed under him, keeping your mouth closed to keep any sound from coming out.
“You’ll have to be very quiet.”
“I know.”
You felt his fingers spreading your lower lips, as he used the tip of his tongue to find your clit. You bit your lip as you squirmed under him. You were so wet, it was ridiculous. But after all those nights of touching yourself and thinking about him, he was finally yours again. As he sucked on your small bud of pleasure, one of his thick digits entered your slicked walls.
“You’re so wet, I could just put all of my fingers in.”
You let out a noise between a moan and a struggled squeal.
“You’d like that?” He whispered, hot air hitting your wet core.
“Stars, Din, get to it. I want you inside. Please.”
Din chuckled darkly as he entered a second finger. He started moving them at a fast pace he knew would make you see stars. You were trying to be quiet, but the tiny room was filled with your obscene wet sounds already. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on to him as you felt your orgasm hit you.
“Please. Please fuck me, Din.” You asked desperately.
His fingers left you empty, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he entered your walls slowly, stretching you deliciously.
“You’re so tight, mesh’la.”
Your feet pushed against him so he could enter you deeper and deeper. Once entered to the hilt, he started snapping his hips back and forth, setting a slow, but powerful pace. You hid your head in his neck, letting your moans echo against his warm skin.
“Faster, please.”
His upper body left you, and you felt him grab your thighs to secure you as he fucked you harder, using you like you were his personal sex toy. Your upper body was limp, moving in waves with his harsh thrusts. When a moan escaped your lips, he stopped moving.
“Told you to be quiet.”
“I’m sorry Din, please don’t stop…”
You felt him leaving you empty and craving. You wanted to cry. But before any tears rolled down your cheeks, he laid beside you and turned you to the side, one of his strong arms over your body and his palm resting over your mouth. He shushed you, his free hand resting on your hip as he slipped back inside. The angle made him feel somehow even deeper, and you knew he could feel how tightly you were choking his cock. You bit on his palm to muffle a cry, but he did not protest. You could hurt him as much as you wanted in return.
“There. My good girl.” He whispered.
He fucked you deep and slow, the hand on your hip coming down to your mound, two of his thick digits circling your clit as the rest of his giant palm put pressure on your lower stomach. You could almost feel him there, he was so big.
“Give me another one, mesh’la.”
White stars replaced the darkness in your vision as you exploded around him, spasming and trashing as an intense orgasm took over you. It felt like you wanted to pee, and come at the same time. But it felt so good.
“K-Kriff…” Din cursed under his breath. “You’re making a mess.” Drunk on you, he followed closely, erupting between your walls. “Stars, come here.” Before you could protest, the man pulled away and brought your hips close to his face, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs and forcing you to sit on his mouth.
Flustered, you stuttered: “D-Din…”
He licked the mixture of your juices off your sweet pussy, making obscene slurping sounds. His hold on you was so strong, but you tried to pull away. “T-Too much…”
“Sorry.” He let you lay down against his chest, and you pressed your lips against his. He let you taste the potion you both made on his tongue.
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Once arrived on the planet with a desertic landscape, you met with your contact, Jafan Typho. A man with a white beard, and kind, wise eyes, who lived in a garage-like house filled to the brim with junk.
You gave him a written list of what you needed as he eyed wearily the two imposing people with you (and the green little thing).
"Who are these... friends?" The man asked.
“I’m her future husband, this is my son, Grogu, and this is Lady Kryze of Mandalore.”
You almost choked on air at Din’s words, and you stared at him. You imagined his amused, teasing grin.
“I see.” Jafan responded. “Stay here while I get what you need.”
Bo Ka-Tan sighed, annoyed. She clearly was excited for this trip to end.
“What is our plan after this?” She asked as an attempt to make a conversation with you and Din.
“We go back to my planet so I can fix your jetpack. I’m thinking it won’t take me more than a day… Then… you’re free to do whatever you want.” You shrugged.
“Then, I will go back to Mandalore with our friends on Nevarro. You’re free to follow, or not.”
Din looked at you expectantly, but you looked away. All that you knew was always on Nevarro. Leaving… would mean leaving a part of your family legacy behind.
“I’ll think about it.” You said with a smile. You felt Din’s gloved hand grab yours, and you enlaced your fingers.
Jafan came back with a few pieces in hands. “There. Will you still be there when I go back to Nevarro, Fix?”
“I… don’t know.” You admitted. You exchanged the parts for a generous pile of credits. “But feel free to come by.”
“Okay.” The old man shook your hand, and you all thanked him silently as you went back to the ship, Grogu waddling behind you.
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“You really are doing this backwards.” You let out as you’re crowded in the small space of the ship’s washer with Din.
“What... Do you mean?” He asked, distracted by your hands on his naked, tattooed chest. He put his hands on yours and looked at you with those adorable puppy brown eyes. You could see glimpses of him in the dark, and even though he called himself your future husband, he insisted on keeping the lights closed.
“You haven’t even asked me to marry you officially, and you’re already calling yourself my future husband.”
“Okay, then.” Din rolled his eyes playfully and pulled you closer. “Be my riduur. Please.”
“Finally. Yes.” You squealed and kissed him, long and slow.  “For someone so traditional… one would think that you would do things in order.”
“Maybe I lost my brain somewhere while I traveled.”
“I know where you put your brain.” You kissed his jaw, his throat, as you went down slowly on his body, your hands following the sharp lines of his muscles.
“Yeah?”
Once on your knees, you kissed the tip of his cock with a sly smile.
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You wiped the sweat off your brow as you finished fixing the jetpack. You tested a few buttons and satisfied, you brought it to Bo Ka-Tan, who sat silently in your workshop, while Din was away, making arrangements for your union.
“You know I do not care for Din Djarin in that way, right?” She asked after clearing her throat.
“I would not blame you. He’s an attractive man.” You put the jetpack in her hands. She looked at it attentively, it seemed like new.
“I do not think of men that way.”
“…Oh. I apologize for making assumptions.”
“You’re fine. Thank you for the quick repair.”
“You’re welcome.”
You thought you hallucinated when you saw a smile on Bo Ka-Tan’s lips, but you were perfectly sane.
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There was a small crowd of Mandalorians in various types of armors amassed in the covert. You were wearing a light dress, and not the conventional attire. Din was in full armor, beskar shining under the low lights. Bo smiled encouragingly at you, as you exchanged vows in Mando’a, repeating after the armorer. Your pronunciation was not perfect, which made you chuckle nervously. But Din held your hand and encouraged you. As he repeated the vows back to you, the deep rumble of his modulated voice gave you shivers.
You laid your head against his helmet in an intimate gesture, even though you couldn’t wait to tear off the helmet from his head.
After a celebration, you brought Din back to the apartment on top of your workshop, thankful of the other mandalorians taking care of Grogu for the night. The sun was almost setting, but you could see his golden skin in the sunlight. It felt even more special now that you were his.
“This couldn’t end any quicker.” You said, breathless, between languorous kisses. You almost tore off each other’s clothes, and you stopped for a few seconds to admire Din’s face in the sunlight after you took off his helmet. “There. My handsome man. I missed your face so much.” You cradled his scruffy jaw between your hands, and you kissed his pouty lips again and again, until he groaned in annoyance and pushed you on your bed.
“You will see this face so much; you’ll grow tired of it.” Your riduur settled between your hips, legs over his broad shoulders as he leaned down to kiss the sensitive skin of your thighs.
“I doubt it.” Your fingers settled in his curls, and you pushed him closer to where you truly wanted him. His nose brushed over your mound, then he spread your lips to gain an easier access, before drowning into you. He lapped and sucked messily at every piece of skin he could access, his head moving to the side as he ate you out with his whole body. “K-Kriff, Din…”
He whispered your name against your wetness, like a quiet prayer, before latching his lips onto your clit, alternating with sucking, and leaving quick licks. “Taste so good, mesh’la…” He said when he came back for air, after diving in again, like a man starved.
Your back arched, your hips bucking uncontrollably against his face as he kept going. His soft, brown eyes were on your face as he watched you coming undone, again and again, until overstimulation. You pulled on his hair and asked him to stop in a tired voice. His lips moved slowly up your body, stopping sometimes to latch onto a parcel of skin or a nipple. 
“Can I make love to you, my riduur?” He asked reverently, and you never wanted him to call you something else again.
“Yes.”
Din slicked his cock with your juices, before diving his tip slowly into your hole.  You held his gaze, wanting to engrave somewhere in your memory this particular moment.
“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum (I love you).” He said as he bottomed, his hips flush with yours.
You barely had time to respond, before he started thrusting in and out of you at a slow pace, like you both now had the whole time in the universe.
“Where do we go after this?” Din asked as he stilled to look at the remainings of the sunset reflecting on your skin.
“I will follow wherever you go, Din Djarin. So we’re never apart again.”
His fingers laced with yours as he felt happiness so overwhelming he could not bear it. A soft kiss. Another promise. And you would fly wherever he was needed.
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writerlyhabits · 10 months
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Ration Packs
Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader
Word Count: 4.7k
Summary: based on this request...
“I’m guessing it’ll be ration packs for dinner?” you added, nodding towards the empty satchel hanging from his hip.  “There wasn’t a market on the way back to the ship,” he almost pleaded, trying to explain his intentions, but you simply gave him a tight-lipped nod in acknowledgment.  “I’ll get the packs started so it's ready by the time you’ve unloaded.” Your voice lacked its usual kindness. This shift in the conversation had you speaking with him as if this were all just… business. Had he pushed you too far? Were you trying to remind him that he had hired you to be here? That he should be keeping things… professional? Fuck. This was why he worked alone.  
Warnings: mild language, miscommunication [but not in a horrible way, don’t worry, I’m better than that], young dumb in love din djarin, mild angst, angst with a happy ending, everything is in Din’s pov because i love his dumbass train of thought, idk it’s pretty soft
AN: oh my god i’m back from the dead! I told you guys i’d be back 😂 This request has been sitting in my inbox for probably about a year… and I have no end of apologies, but i’m finally done and it’s a miracle I don’t hate it 😂 I did change the prompt a little… the idea of them putting Grogu to bed was cute, but I had an idea for a younger Din and just fell in love with it, so i ran with that. I hope you guys enjoy 💖 Thank you @deceiver-of-gods for putting up with me all this time, ily 😘
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Din had traveled through the toughest parts of the galaxy without batting an eye. He’d run with a mercenary group and proven himself to have more skills, more hits, more value… and more of a moral compass than anyone else in the group. After fighting his way out of their grip, he had taken out high-level targets with ease to earn his way into the Bounty Hunters guild. Din continued to be not only one of the youngest of their ranks, but also the most highly sought after. And after all of that? 
You were his greatest challenge. 
His Razor crest had taken one too many hits for him to be able to repair on his own, and the costs of repairs on his pre-imperial ship were starting to eat into the funds he usually gave back to his covert. Not providing for them was not an option; the Beroya was supposed to send their spoils back to the covert to provide for those in hiding. This is the way…
So when he landed on a planet with lush, colorful flora, and a generally trusting local people, he least expected you to strike a bargain with him. He needed a mechanic, and you wanted a ticket out. Free boarding and transportation in exchange for a live-in repair crew, he just had to get you the parts. It was his perfect solution. He hired you on the spot and scheduled to ship out as soon as the Crest was back in working order. 
On that first day of travel, Din had only just entered hyper-speed when he became overly critical of his ship. The cold, metal surfaces of the hull were uninviting, full of sharp edges, and devoid of any personality. It didn’t take him much longer to realize that, to an outsider, his armor looked much the same. 
But he’d never seen it that way before. To him, the Mandalorian armor was a sign of home, of belonging. It had been his savior in his childhood, and a beacon of his people as he grew into his own. He had tucked away into coverts where the blank metal lining of their ships and their walls meant protection. 
But you were not Mandalorian. You hadn’t grown up around sharp edges and cold surfaces. The place you called home was filled with warm colors and soft curves, the buildings made to flow with the organic structures of the nature around them, letting in the bright sunlight necessary for its growth. You yourself walked with an elegance Din was unfamiliar with, treading softly on the ground and smiling brightly at him each time your kind eyes met his dark visor. You had shared your warmth with him since the moment he’d met you, despite the coldness he was certain he portrayed, and it surprised him how much he found himself drawn to it. Drawn to you. 
You were everything he wasn’t. But Din would do everything in his power to make sure you never came to regret agreeing to this strange setup, that you never felt isolated or alone because you’d chosen him – a walking wall of cold beskar – as your traveling companion. 
At first, he’d merely wanted to bring you things that reminded him of your home, things he thought might do the same for you. Anytime he was in a market passing through, either on a supply run or with a bounty in tow, he found something colorful to bring back to you. The first few had been small trinkets, things you could keep in the small cupboard you had decided to call your quarters, or delicate pieces of jewelry he would later catch you wearing around the ship. 
The feeling Din got seeing you wear something he gave you made something warm swell inside of him… It made it hard to come back to the ship empty-handed, especially with the promise of your soft smile when he held his hand to you with a new gift. 
On one of his trips, he’d brought back a woven tapestry; the craftsmanship had been beautiful, and the colors matched those of the outfits you wore the most around him. Din was about to launch into an apology when he first gave it to you, not having thought about where you would even be able to put it, but his statement was cut short when you happily grabbed it from him and turned on your heel to find something. 
Not even a few moments later, you returned with a handful of powerful magnets you’d picked up on a market a few planets back, and he watched as you excitedly hung the artwork from one of the walls in the Crest’s hull, creating a curtain in front of one of the panels on that wall – you must have thought it was as ugly as he did. 
“What do you think?” You had asked him, and he watched self-consciousness start to creep in now that your initial excitement was starting to wear off. 
“It looks good,” he’d replied a little stiffly, still having a hard time finding the courage to speak around you. A bounty hunter, with hundreds of captures under his belt, was still too shy to talk to his mechanic… he at least wasn’t dumb enough to miss the irony in his own predicament, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t his truth. 
Since then, Din had started bringing back more things you could use to decorate the ship with; tapestries, blankets, and cushions accompanied the trinkets and jewelry he brought back with him. He could tell that your favorite of his gifts had been a soft shawl he’d seen hanging at a market in the rural areas of Naboo. The politician’s son he was paid to deliver back home had gone on about the luxury material it was made of, something about ancient processes and unique resources… All he knew was that it brought out your natural beauty when you wrapped it around your shoulders, and he felt his cheeks get warm under his helmet when you did. 
The two of you started to fall into these new routines fairly easily, and with all of your redecorations, it was becoming a welcome change. In the evenings – or at least what you thought was evenings in the darkness of hyperspace – you would prep a set of ration packs for the both of you. It was always two of the same kind so that you could feel like you were “sharing a meal,” a concept he had very little experience with. At least, he hadn’t for a very long time. 
Since eating required removing his helmet, Mandalorians often took their meals in solitude, or within the confines of their family. You, on the other hand, were used to shared meals in dining rooms with someone at every seat, and communal dining halls bustling with people. At first, Din was afraid you might take offense to him leaving during meal times, never quite sure how to phrase his dilemma. 
Luckily, he never had to. 
You caught on pretty quickly to his predicament, handing him a warm ration pack with a smile before turning to let him eat in peace. He always rushed through his meals in order to join you in the hull, to thank you for your silent understanding by coming down to talk with you as you ate yours at a leisurely pace. 
As the weeks went by, Din picked up on some of your silent requests as well, memories of food that didn’t need to be rehydrated before you ate it. He began looking out for other booths at the markets, and fresh ingredients began coming home in place of some of the gifts and trinkets he always brought back with him. Each time he did, a home-cooked meal would follow, and Din always made sure he expressed his gratitude when he came back down to join you for the second half of your meal. 
Your routines continued like this for a while, silently assessing each other’s needs, and wordlessly adjusting to accommodate. And it worked. The Razor Crest felt more and more like a home rather than the metal casing of a ship, small traces of your personal touch nearly everywhere he looked. The food had been better, the companionship had been better, far better than the cold silence he’d had to put up with before you came to him. 
And Din started to catch on to just how much his own feelings revolved around you. 
He craved your warmth at the end of a rough day, he sought to provide your happiness, to get your approval… He tried to be better at actually opening his mouth, being able to express more of his feelings for you outside of your usual, quiet understanding of each other. He tried asking you more questions, wanting to not only hear about the events of your day but to actually get to know you better, showing you how much he genuinely cared. And Din was elated when you started to do the same in return. 
After he came back to the ship from a particularly taxing hunt, he heard your soft footsteps descending the ladder from the cockpit while he secured the unconscious bounty into the corner of the hull you had affectionately deemed “time-out.” The most uncomfortable chair had been secured behind some of your tapestries, acting as a set of curtains that kept the bounties from view. 
When Din emerged from the hanging fabrics, he could feel some of the tension leave his body at the sight of you in your work clothes, a warm smile dancing on your grease-stained cheeks, wiping your hands on the old flight suit you’d brought with you from home. No matter how difficult his hunts had been, being able to debrief with you upon his return always made him smile beneath the helmet. 
“Hey!” you lilted. 
“Hey,” he responded, still a little awkward despite how long you’d been working together. He was getting better, but it could definitely still use improvement. 
“How’d the hunt go?” you asked, gesturing to the closed curtain beside him. “Obviously successful if you’ve got someone in time-out.” Din chuckled under his breath at your quip, mulling over the events of his day before he replied. 
“It was fine.” You looked at him expectantly for a few moments, waiting for him to continue. 
“Just… fine?” you half giggled, one brow raised in question while you donned a crooked grin. It hadn’t really gone bad, he did have the bounty in hand. It could have gone better, but nothing that came to any detriment in the end… 
He nodded. “It… went well. There’s nothing to report,” he shrugged, unsure what else you were looking for in his answer. 
But your face fell. Only for a moment… but enough for him to see it. 
“How are your repairs coming?” He tried, hoping to stir the conversation again, to fix whatever had caused your sudden change in attitude. 
“Fine. There’s nothing to report.” Your answer was short, both in your words and your temper. You usually volunteered the finer details of your projects, explaining with a dramatic flair all of your trials and your victories, stories that Din was always happy to be an audience to. 
Why hadn’t you done so this time?
“I’m guessing it’ll be ration packs for dinner?” you added, nodding towards the empty satchel hanging from his hip. One that usually carried whatever gift he had brought for you. Dank farrik… he already hated coming back empty-handed – something you had never made him feel guilty for – but right now it was only making him feel worse. 
“There wasn’t a market on the way back to the ship,” he almost pleaded, trying to explain his intentions, but you simply gave him a tight-lipped nod in acknowledgment. 
“I’ll get the packs started so it's ready by the time you’ve unloaded.” Your voice lacked its usual kindness. This shift in the conversation had you speaking with him as if this were all just… business. Had he pushed you too far? Were you trying to remind him that he had hired you to be here? That he should be keeping things… professional?
Fuck. This was why he worked alone. 
One of the downsides of having grown up around the Mandalorians was that his concepts of interpersonal relationships were skewed. The two of you were operating on completely different sets of rules, and where you had been able to read each other incredibly well… Now he was left to try and figure out where he’d gone wrong. 
With Mandalorians, he knew where he stood. They spoke with purpose, meaning exactly what they said. Even growing up constantly harassing and sparring with Paz, Din knew where his sentiments came from; competition, comradery, and a deep passion for his people. But outside the covert… Din was still finding his footing when it came to the beings he interacted with. Riding with the mercenary group had at least taught him how to weed through the tangled lies that spewed from their mouths, trusting them only as far as he could throw them – if that. 
But you were nothing like those slimy low lives. He didn’t know how to start friendships, how to engage in small talk… and he had no idea where to start when it came to the way you made his heart rate pick up. You made Din nervous, but you were also a comfort. You were new and familiar all at once, a new adventure as well as a place of rest. 
You meant so much to him… and he’d managed to drive you away just as quickly as he had let you in. 
The fog of uncertainty hung around the ship for days, and with it, the cold emptiness he had been so accustomed to in his solitude had returned. But after the warmth you had brought to his Razor Crest, being without it was almost suffocating. Din missed you. 
That was a fact he was trying to wrap his head around, seeing as you still lived with him on the ship… but it wasn’t the same. You stopped humming while you worked on different panels across his ship, blanketing the hull in silence. Any questions Din tried to ask you were met with short, quiet responses. Surprisingly, you still made the effort to prepare a ration pack with yours during meal times, but when he rushed back down from the cockpit in record time to join you, you were nowhere in sight. 
There was nowhere to go inside his ship. That was one of the things he’d liked about it; there was room for him to live on board comfortably without giving his bounties anywhere to hide. And yet, you still managed to avoid him. When he entered the hull, you escaped to your room. When he climbed up the rungs to the cockpit, you would make some quiet excuse and scurry out the door behind him. No matter where he went, what he said, or whatever measures he took to try and catch you off-guard, you were gone before he could even open his mouth. 
He was fucking sick of it. He had made a promise, when you came aboard, that he would make sure you never came to regret choosing this life with him. That you would continue to choose to stay with him, to choose him over the home planet you were so desperate to leave. He made a promise, and he intended to keep it. 
After landing on Nevarro a few days later to return his bounty, Din��s plan began to unfold. He walked out of the run-down cantina Karga liked to meet up at – insisting that he was going to fix it up and make it ‘a place of gathering’ – the spills of his hunt clanking against the mechanical chip he had tucked away in the satchel that sat on his belt. A chip that, if missing, would cause systems in the cockpit to go offline. 
Something his mechanic would find during her daily diagnosis check. 
Din felt a pang of guilt at the thought of you being buried arms deep in the underside of the control panel with no hope of finding the repair, because he was the one to take it from you... But then he thought about the worser fate; what if you figured out what was missing, and had more reason to dislike him than before? His guilt quickly turned into slight panic, making haste to get back to his ship to enact his plan before your clever brain could figure out what he’d done. 
When he returned to the Crest, the harshness of the metal hull was almost overwhelming. You had started taking down your tapestries and decorations, save for everything but the “time-out” corner, and it felt cold. You didn’t come out to greet him or welcome him back, let alone acknowledge him at all. You hadn’t done so since the time your conversation had taken a turn for the worst. He did, however, hear a loud metal clang and your familiar grunt of frustration from exactly where he assumed you would be. He wondered if you had even heard him come on board… 
Din quietly discarded his weapons before stealthily moving to the ladder just below the cockpit, stopping in his tracks when he heard a slew of colorful curses leave your lips. He waited a few moments until the sounds of your hard work continued, none-the-wiser to his oncoming ambush. 
By the time he reached the top of the cockpit, he took a moment to assess the situation and figure out the best approach. You were exactly where he thought you would be, laying on your back just to the side of his pilot’s chair, agile hands fiddling with different cables and boards inside his instrument panel…
And your head snapped up to look at him when he made the door to the cockpit slide closed behind him. 
You stared at Din for a couple moments before you opened your mouth. “Did you… are you cornering me?” When you put it that way, this was not going quite as he’d imagined, despite everything going according to plan. He had to keep going. 
“You’re ignoring me,” he said firmly, his tone reminiscent of one he took with his bounties. 
“Fucking maker, did you hunt me?” You asked with furrowed brows, and your slightly agitated tone made him fairly certain you didn’t actually need his answer. “I live on the same kriffing ship, and you had to treat me like one of your bounties just to say something to me?” 
“I had to talk to you. You wouldn’t let me,” he pressed, keeping his voice steady. You gave a huff of indignation. 
“I don’t have time for this, Mando, I have to fix your ship,” you threw at him before your body thumped dramatically on the ground as you went back to your work. 
“So you are angry at me,” Din stated, sounding more like an observation than a question. He could work with angry. You shot him a glare without moving too much from your position, and he took that as a good enough indicator to continue his interrogation. “Did I do something to upset you?” 
“Mando…” you started, his moniker leaving your lips in an exasperated sigh, not without a flame of annoyance lurking behind it. 
“Don’t make another excuse. I’m tired of avoiding this.” He watched the bluntness of his words hit you, not surprised when you furrowed your brows as you started to slide out from under the console, sitting up to scowl at him properly. 
“Another- what? I didn’t make any fucking excuses, I’m not avoiding anything,” you fired off, your tone indicating the exact opposite of what you were saying. 
“Then why have you stopped talking to me?” Din expected another fiery response, but instead a split-second of realization crossed over your face before it was replaced with one of irritated confusion. It made him — him, the stone-cold Mandalorian bounty hunter — shift on his feet. 
“I stopped talking to you?” You countered, and you waited a moment to let him respond… but he didn’t know what you expected him to say. “Right, because you’ve been super talkative after ‘there’s nothing to report’,” you mumbled, and it caused those same words to ring in his head from the night everything went wrong. You had said them so coldly…
After he had said them to you. 
“I- I meant no offense,” he tried a little lamely, still not understanding where he had gone wrong, but wanting more than anything for you to understand that he was willing to fix it. “I didn’t have anything to say.” You gave another sigh, but this one was softer, like you were about to level with him. It was progress, if nothing else. 
“Nothing? You couldn’t give me the details of your hunt the same way I tell you about the market? I mean, it’s not as exciting as I make it out to be, I just... “ You trailed off and looked away from him without finishing your sentence, but he wasn’t going to let that happen. He was finally getting answers out of you, he was going to get to the bottom of this, and make good on his promise to keep you happy. This was the way. 
He was quick to kneel in front of you, trying to get closer to your level to get away from his interrogation tactic, and communicate that he was willing to listen and receive. “You just what? Help me understand.” 
You scoffed a laugh as you shook your head. “There’s not a lot to understand. I like talking with you, I like when we share stories. I just… I wanted to be close with you.” 
Din wanted to bang his head against the wall. With or without his helmet. This all started because he was an idiot who didn’t know how to talk? He was a bounty hunter, he should have been smarter than that. He should have been able to tell what had caused such a shift, and been able to fix it before the mission could go sideways. 
But, in all fairness, he was a bounty hunter who was used to being alone. 
Before Din had lucked into having you travel the galaxy with him on his hunts, he came back to an empty ship. There was nobody else to talk about the day with. And after living amongst the Mandalorians, a people of few words, he wasn’t exactly in the habit of speaking to himself or others. Before you, everything that surrounded Din was just… quiet. 
“But… this is just professional, I get that now. I’ll stay out of your way, and I won’t pry. It is your ship, after all.” 
And he was about to get himself into even more trouble if he didn’t figure out how to speak right fucking now. 
“No,” he started firmly, desperately catching on to the tail end of your admission, but not entirely sure what was about to come out of his mouth. “This isn’t- I don’t… I’m not good at talking.” Strong start Djarin. 
“What?” You asked softly. If anything, you pretty much justified his statement. He took a breath to try and steady himself, to dig through the chaos inside his head and find a half-way coherent string of words to offer you, to clean up his mess. 
“Mandalorians are quiet. Bounty Hunters keep to themselves. I’m not used to talking,” he reiterated, and he watched your confused expression shift gently into one of intrigue, your sign for him to keep going. “I wasn’t trying to shut you out, I just… didn’t know what else to say. I’m used to sparing people any details that aren’t deemed necessary. Now I know that I shouldn’t do that with you. I’m sorry.” 
Din was pleased to find a small smile growing at the corners of your mouth. “I mean… You don’t have to give me every detail. Just the good stuff,” you smiled, making Din’s heart feel warm. He didn’t realize how much he missed the radiance of your smile until now, feeling like he was finally stepping into the sun after spending so long in the dark. 
“Just the good stuff… So I’ll tell you how much blood there was when I-”
“No, no thanks,” you cut him off quickly, making a fake gagging sound as he laughed under his helmet. “I take it back, let’s go back to no more talking, I’m good. I’ll just stay up here with all my busted circuits, thank you very much.” 
“Please don’t, I can’t go back to quiet,” he said quickly, the smile still plastered on his face as the weight of his words hit both of you.
I can’t go back to quiet.
It was true, he couldn’t. The past few minutes talking with you again, even when you were angry and yelling at him half of the time, had him feeling better than he had in days. 
“Oh yeah?” You offered, and he could tell by your knowing smile that you had come to the same realization that he did. You knew how much he had come to need you. “You don’t want a break from all my rambling?” 
“Never,” he admitted. Din watched your shoulders relax and your soft smile get brighter as his answer left his helmet, and he realized how much you needed him in return. It made a warmth bloom from deep within his chest, warming him all the way out to the very coldest parts of his Beskar armor. “Never stop. I want you to fill this ship with all your stories, real or exaggerated.” 
It caught him by surprise when you leapt up from your spot on the ground to meet his height, flinging your arms around his neck as you held him tight, fitting together perfectly even as you knelt on the floor in front of each other. With only a little hesitation, Din wrapped his gloved hands around you, arms circling your waist and pulling you flush against the plates of his armor, and soaked up everything that was you. 
This is the way. 
Sooner than he would’ve liked, he felt your grip around his neck loosen, and you leaned back to lock you gaze with his dark visor. 
“As much as I’d love to catch up, your ship is driving me crazy and I have got to figure out how to get these control panels back online,” you explained, and Din slowly started to realize he hadn’t thought this part through. 
“Well, I uh…” 
“You’re welcome to stay and chat, if you’re in the talking mood. I’d love to hear about your meeting in town,” you offered playfully, sending him a wink as you began to shuffle yourself back down under the open compartment of his shift. 
Instead, he got down on the ground and laid himself next to you, as if he was going to look at what you were doing with the repairs. Your hands stopped mid-action as you looked at him, and he enjoyed the airy laugh that escaped you at his actions. 
“Or you can watch from here, that’s fine, too.” 
“I was actually going to offer a suggestion,” he started timidly. You turned away from him as you focused on the wires in front of you again. 
“I'll take anything you’ve got. I haven’t seen anything like this in ages… I’ve only got one idea left, but I doubt it’s right. It’s like the reactor chip is missing, but the only way that thing would’ve even budged is if someone-” You stopped in your tracks as Din lifted a gloved hand into your peripheral view, the small reactor chip held between his fingers for you to see. 
You paused a moment before turning your head dangerously towards your companion. He could see the corners of your lips twitching as you did everything you could to avoid a smile, and he remained grateful for his helmet as it hid his beaming face from view. 
You snatched the chip from his hand and looked back to your circuits. “Get out of my cockpit,” you said quietly, the last few words of your threat lost to your laughter. Din couldn’t stop his own laughter from coming through the modulator as he began getting up from the floor to do as he was told. “You’re making the ration packs tonight,” you added, the smile on your cheeks evident in your voice. 
"This is the way."
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Thanks for reading!! If you’d like to be notified when I post a new fic, be sure to follow @writerlyhabits-library + turn on post notifications! 💛
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daddy-dins-girl · 8 months
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Pedro Boys - "Zombie Apocalypse Team"
this might be my favourite one yet... keep reading for headcanons!
related posts: Pedro Boys "During a Fire Emergency" Pedro Boys "Nice Argument. Unfortunately," Pedro Boys "Don't Fuck This Up" Pedro Boys "Dad(dy) Matrix" Pedro Boys & Stabbing Pedro Boys "Lawful/Neutral/Chaotic" Pedro Boys "Feral/Sad/Angelic" Pedro Boys Respond to "I love you." Pedro Boys "Character Tropes" Pedro Boys "Gay/Depressed/Horny on Main" Pedro Boys "Dad/THOT/Bastard" Pedro Boys "bring some Coke to the party" Pedro Boys "I Want a Baby" Pedro Boys "As Babysitters" Pedro Boys "As McDonald's Dads" Pedro Boys "in a horror movie" Pedro Boys "Cinnamon Rolls" Pedro Boys "5 Kids, 3 Chairs" Pedro Boys "Playing Monopoly"
Headcanons under the cut!
Leader - Dave York. Simply put, Dave wouldn’t allow anyone else to be in charge of him, regardless if they’d be better suited for it. Some of the others follow him out of fear, others simply because they'd just prefer not to be in charge.
Brawler - Joel Miller. The muscle. Not so great with his words, much better with his fists.
Weapons Expert - Din Djarin. A bonafide space cowboy, this man has it all. Blasters, rifles, flamethrower, jet pack. Evaporating infected before they even see him coming.
Brains - Marcus Moreno. Truly the Team Leader, but he lets Dave hold the title. He has the mutual respect of everyone, is level headed and the glue that holds the whole group together. He advises Dave, but in a way that makes Dave think they’re his own ideas. Marcus doesn't need to take any credit, he just wants everyone to be safe.
Medic - Frankie "Catfish" Morales. He’s no doctor, but he's had enough basic field medical training in his military days to at least be able to patch everyone up better than anyone else on the team. He’d prefer to be the Vehicle Expert but sadly, modes of transportation in the apocalypse are hard to come by.
Moral Support - Marcus Pike. Always looking at the bright side of the apocalypse. He likes to joke “when life hands you cordyceps, make mushroom tetrazzini”.
Scientist - Ezra. Not exactly Einstein, but he knows what berries and plants are safe and which to avoid during long treks through the wilderness. He’s proven himself useful more so than not. Mostly he keeps Dieter from accidentally un-aliving himself.
Risk taker - Max Phillips. Loud and outspoken, Max's mouth is always getting the group into trouble. Good luck to any infected that tries to turn him though, his ego is so big its like a thick candy shell around the vulnerable parts of his brain.
Stealthy - Oberyn Martell. Forget sniping infected from 100 yards away, this man simply sneaks up behind them and with some flourishing footwork they're on the ground with any sharp object he could get his hands on slicing through the flesh of their throat. He's also stealthy in the way he manages to slip into the others' sleeping bags without them evening realizing at the time that they want him to, but that's a headcanon for another post...
Dumbass - Dieter Bravo. It's not that he wants to die, it's just that he seems to occasionally forget that he can't just eat the fungus as if it came in a Ziplock bag that he use to pay 40 bucks a pop for.
Badass - Javier Peña. This man just continuously takes down infected as if they might actually come to an end. He knows that as quickly as he takes down one colony, four more spring up, but he's stubborn and refuses to stop trying, regardless of how tired he is of it all.
Mascot - Javi Gutierrez. He is babygirl. To be protected at all costs.
Distraction - Jack "Whiskey" Daniels. A real root-tootin, gun-blazin cowboy. Jack never needs to be asked twice to go put on a spectacle in the middle of an open field, gathering all the attention so the rest of the group can flank all sides under brush cover. He seems to have nine lives too, narrowly escaping death more times than any other. And he can handle his own. He argued for the spot of Weapons Expert but ultimately was swayed when he realized being the distraction actually meant being the center of attention.
Stereotype - Pero Tovar. One look at this man screams "if anyone was going to survive a zombie apocalypse, it's him"
Sacrifice - Dio. Look, it was his idea. The weird part was that nobody even asked him to.
First Dead - Eddie. It's just facts. In a long line of Pedro Boys deaths, someone had to be first.
Reply or reblog with your own headcanons, I'd love to hear them :)
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Luke, walking into the throne room and seeing Cara and Din fighting on the council table: "...uh?"
Bo-Katan, very tired: "They're arguing about which one of us has the better ass."
Luke: "Fucks sake not again."
Based on my BoCara fic
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teddy06writes · 3 months
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X Reader Fic Masterlist
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~~
Dead Poet Society:
General/Unit:
Charlie Daltons Annuel Dead Poets Holiday Party: Halloween Edition Diner Days Everything Falls Apart Study Session Repercussions Dating the Dead Poets HCs
Neil Perry:
Music of the Night Why'd I Guess the Ending? Anywhere... Just Not Home Happiness Here For You A Quiet Moment Everyone But You
Todd Anderson:
Favorite Poet Surprise Cuddle Sessions Friday Night Fun, Monday Meetings
Steven Meeks: Of Little Love Poems, Secret Admirers and Anonymous Notes
Charlie Dalton:
Friends to Lovers Hcs
Gerard Pitts: None yet
Richard Cameron: None yet
Knox Overstreet: None Yet
~~~
The Outsiders:
General/Unit:
Being the Fourth Curtis Brother HCs
Dallas Winston:
Never Fall In Love Again No Matter What Ghost Stories Late Nights By The Fire Oh How The Turn Tables People Watching
Sodapop Curtis:
Golden Too Old? Yeah Right!
Two Bit Mathews:
I'll Try Too Old? Yeah Right! Spooky-est Place On Earth
Darry Curtis:
Pumpkin Spice Everything Hot Tea Heals The Soul
Johnny Cade:
Protective Cool, Calm, and Collected-- Until He Smiles
Steve Randle:
1955 Chevy Delray
Polyam Jally:
Take Me Back to the Night We Met
Polyam Dallypop:
I Told You It Was A Dumbass Plan
~~~
Top Gun: Maverick:
General/Unit:None Yet
Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw: None Yet
Jake 'Hangman' Sersin: None Yet
Javy 'Coyote' Machado:None Yet
Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace: None Yet
Robert 'Bob' Floyd: None Yet
Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia: None Yet
Ruben 'Payback' Fitch: None Yet
Polyam Hangster: None Yet
Polyam Bobnix: None yet
~~~
The Bear:
Carmen Berzatto: None yet
Sydney Adamu: None Yet
Richie Jerimovich: None yet
Marcus: None Yet
~~~
Peaky Blinders:
Tommy Shelby:
Can't Sleep?
Arthur Shelby: None yet
John Shelby: None yet
Lizzie Stark/Shebly: None yet
Alfie Solomons:
Interrupted Date Nights Lost Words
Michael Gray: None Yet
~~~
Star Wars:
Cassian Andor:
Stubborn
Jyn Erso: None Yet
Polyam CassianxJyn: None yet
Bhodi Rook: None Yet
Din Djarin: None Yet
Han Solo: None Yet
~~~
Lord Of The Rings/The Hobbit:
The Fellowship: None Yet
The Company: None Yet
Aragorn: None Yet
Boromir: None yet
Legolas: None Yet
Gimli: None Yet
Frodo Baggins: None Yet
Samwise Gamgee:
Harmony
Pippin Took:None Yet:
Merry Brandybuck:None Yet
Faramir: None Yet
Eomer: None yet
Eowyn: None Yet
Bilbo Baggins: None yet
Thorin Oakenshield:None yet
Kili: None yet
Fili:None yet
Bofur: None yet
Bard Bowman: None yet
~~~
The Umbrella Academy:
General/Unit: None yet
Number Five Hargreeves: None yet
Klaus Hargreeves: None Yet
Diego Hargreeves: None yet
Allison Hargreeves: None Yet
Luther Hargreeves: None Yet
Viktor Hargreeves: None Yet
Lila Pitts: None Yet
~~~
Marvel:
Bucky Barnes: None yet
Sam Wilson: None yet
Natasha Romanoff: None yet
Loki: None Yet
Druig: None Yet
Makari: None yet
Sersi: None yet
~~~
The Breakfast Club:
General/Unit:
None yet
John Bender: None yet
Andrew Clarke: None Yet
Brian Johnson: None yet
Claire Standish: None yet
Allison Reynolds: None yet
~~~
More potentially to be added...
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