Its My Birthday! So, Im Hosting This Little Writing Challenge To Celebrate Because Why The Hell Not?

It’s my birthday! So, I’m hosting this little writing challenge to celebrate because why the hell not? 

A huge thank you to @ohnopoe, @chibi-liz05 and @meshlamando (It was a bit of a group effort haha) for helping me find songs to use as prompts!

How to enter

Just send me an ask with the number of the prompt you want to write. As you may have guessed from the title all of the prompts will be songs.

I got a little carried away so there’s a lot more prompts than I initially intended! I tried to include a variety. Interpret them however you like, you can go off the whole song, just a verse, just a line, anything you want.

When you’ve written your fic post it to tumblr and make sure to tag me so I can find it. I’ll be reblogging all of the fics and putting together a little masterlist on my blog with links to all of them. 

Rules

You do not need to be following me to participate.

Reblogging this post isn’t necessary but it is very appreciated.

No deadline! I understand that life gets in the way of things a lot and this is meant to be a fun, no stress event. So, no deadline just post your fic when you’re ready.

No word limit, open to any fandom, and any type of fic. I know my blog is mostly reader insert stuff, but if you wanted to write an oc x character fic, or gen fic, or for a particular ship instead then that’s fine. 

That said I do have a few exceptions: it must be fanfic, no original writing. Smut is fine, but please no incest, no pedophillia, no non-con/dub-con or underage smut. NO REAL PERSON FIC.

Please include any relevant warnings at the beginning of your fic and include a read more for anything longer than 500 words (If you need to know how to do this on mobile just ask I’ll be happy to talk you through it.)

That’s about it I think, any questions feel free to pop me a message!

Prompts

Find them listed bellow the cut because this is already getting long. 

Here’s a spotify playlist with them all too.

They will be striked out with an url beside them when taken, but don’t worry there’s plenty to go around.

Keep reading

guess who’s back

back again.

dee-dee’s back.

OKAY. School has me fucked messed up with 72 ASSIGNMENTS IN 3 WEEKS AND I AM BARELY FUNCTIONING.

But I only have 3 more of those assignments to do and I am back to normality which means I can get back into writing. I had a beautiful soul message me and ask if I was okay and when I tell you I cried.. I CRIED. Thank you for checking on me 🥰

anyways... WE OUT HERE READY TO GOOOOO. I haven’t even had time to check if anyone sent in requests or taglist notices so if you sent something in and i have not replied to you ... pls I do apologize...

IN OTHER NEWS... my love for the sassy bearded jedi master has been rekindled and i want to start posting his fics on my sideblog so if obi-wan is your cup of tea... stay tuned.

MY HEART OMG THIS WAS BEAUTIFUL. ❤️

Take Me To Church: 15

Rating: Explicit

a/n: This is the official end of Take Me To Church, with one more epilogue chapter planned. I want to thank every single person who ever read this - it was the first thing I ever wrote and it holds a very special place in my heart, right alongside these two love sick fools. 

I want to give a special thank you to @filthybookworm, who has supported me endlessly during this entire process - she knows and loves this story and these characters just as much as I do and I literally couldn’t have done it without her or her incredible playlists. 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: THE CREST

The light of the fire flickers over the kid’s scrunched features, his head bent over the book splayed open on his knees and his voice is clear and steady as he reads aloud. Din sits next to him, his arms open wide in his lean against the fallen tree trunk and he listens, his attention on the kid, his eyes on the bounty.

Hard to track in the first place, the man has been nothing but trouble since they caught him - weeks to find him, a fight to take him down, a struggle to get him up on the horse - he’s been full of snide remarks all day, trying everything in his power to get under Din’s skin. Clearly angry that he got captured, his barbed insults and scoffs of disbelief rolled right off Din’s back in its straight seat in the saddle; the steady sight of it infuriating the man even more.

He’s restless in his ropes by the fire, shifting in his seat as the kid slowly pronounces the words from his primer into the night and he ignores the tilt of Din’s head at his actions, the look of warning clear on his face. The man huffs when the kid’s reading stumbles, shaking his head at the sight before him and Din narrows his eyes and wishes that the wanted poster had listed “Dead or Alive”.

“What a fucking joke”, the man mutters, his hands tied behind his back as he leans forward, seeking warmth from the bright flames. The man keeps his eyes on the kid, watching his small face look up with a pause before looking over at Din and he smirks at the hesitation, at the look of uncertainty on his features.

“A bounty hunter with a fucking kid”, he laughs darkly. Din’s hand drifts to his hip to hover over his pistol and the man’s eyes flick over to watch the movement while he continues. “I’ve never seen that before. Better bounty hunter than a teacher, I think – you better keep practicing, kid.”

“Shut up or I’ll gag you.” Din’s command is cold, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the crackling of the fire and after a long look at the bounty, he nods to the kid to continue. His hand still rests on his gun, the dollar amount of the wanted poster currently folded in the breast pocket of his jacket eventually deterring him from drawing it. It’s too much to risk he decides; he needs this reward.  

Keep reading

i feel so attacked.

Me: watches a new movie/tv show for fun

Also me: suddenly notices the attractive male lead who is most certainly 35+ and I know immediately that he will infiltrate my thoughts for the next 365 days.

festivals | din djarin 

pairing: din djarin x reader; din djarin x military!reader; din djarin x general!reader

warnings: remembering of aq vetina, mentions of war

a/n: i’m back ya’ll. school really messed me up ANYWAYS we back with another dinny fic. the festival idea came from my own culture in Mexico with a celebration called Danza de los Viejitos! 

masterlist

_______

Spring on your planet was the time of a cycle where your planet gets the most visitors. You would know… you had to authorize every single ship that came into the atmosphere. You sat in the control center every day for the past 9 rotations authorizing ship after ship – making sure none of them came to cause trouble. Your planet could not take a hit like that anymore.

But it was finally the day.

Pink and purple skies, green leaves, and warm winds created the perfect day to hold the celebration of your culture’s history – the day your people escaped imprisonment and a life or servitude.

In 19 BBY, your planet was invaded by Gamorian raiders and the elders fought them off. Civilians and military, all passed 40 years old, stayed behind while they forced everyone younger on escape ships. They wanted to “protect the able ones from extinction.” Your father stayed behind, a 38-year-old general in the emperor’s army, stayed behind as your mother your two brothers, ages 12 and 16, and a 5-year-old you were loaded onto the ship, leaving your father behind to fight for his people.

When the fight was over, he became this planet’s emperor after Emperor Molur became ill and unable to rule.

That same year, a few civilians claiming to be from an attacked settlement named Aq Vetina entered the atmosphere. Your father couldn’t turn them away as he saw “fear and a cry for help” look in their eyes. He knew that look. He lived it. It hurt him when he saw a group of dirty, shaking individuals in need of help with nothing but the clothing on their backs. Their red robes and frightened demeanor became engrained in your mind and as you saw safer days, so did they.

Your father painted visual minds of how the elders, 60-year-olds, fought off the raiders with the skill set they once knew in their youth. The determination they had to fight for their planet was motivating and drove you to also protect your planet they way they did for you. That was when you decided to serve. You trained day and night all throughout your youth and into adulthood. When your father, or your emperor you should say, deemed you well, you entered the military along with your siblings.

Your eldest brother left the planet when he met his partner. He wanted to see what the galaxy and so he went. Your other brother left the military to pursue education. He loved children and took advantage of his patience and knowledge. You remained.

You worked and worked as you climbed the ranks. You wanted to earn your position and so you did. Your peers were elated for you and served well under you. You knew every soldier in the force by name and up to their grandparents. You loved your planet and everyone in it even if they weren’t born there.

Your father deemed this day in remembrance of those who gave the planet’s inhibitants the right to remain happy on this planet and celebrate their lives. He decided that spring would be the best season as the brightest colors came to light.

A tradition this festival had was a performance by civilians wearing an elder-resembling mask and clothing too big and dated to be their own. These masks were decorated in white rope hair, wrinkles, and big smiles. These civilians would wear these to bring their elders alive for one night. They would dance through the street as watchers threw flowers and cheered them on. It never failed to put a smile on your face.

This was a tradition ever since and now, in 19 ABY, it was bigger than ever. Every species you can possibly think of has been present at some point, but you have never seen a Mandalorian enter your planet.

That is until today.

“Identify yourself, Razor Crest,” you hear the private ask.

What in the Maker is a Razor Crest doing here?

“This is Razor Crest requesting to land.”

You roll your eyes. Yeah, no shit, you thought.

You gesture the private to hold. You walk over and hold down the button on the comm.

“What is your business here, Razor Crest.”

“The festival. Should there be another reason?” a gruff voice answers.

You tilt your head. Why do I have a bad feeling?

“Stage 91 is clear to land. Over.”

“Stage 91. Heard.”

You allow the private to move on to the next ship in line. You take a deep breath in and decide its best to quiet this questioning voice in your head. You’ll just see for yourself, you said to yourself.

“Are the Sergeants on the field?” You ask the private.

“Yes, General. All 12 Sergeants and 38 Captains are out in the field making their rounds.”

You nod. “Very well.” You look over your shoulder and look at the other privates on the datapads. “Private Lukis,” you call out.

The poor young man, no more than 21, quickly stands, dropping items from the desk, and salutes. “Yes, General. Private Lukis at your attention.”

You stifle a laugh, and you shake your head in disbelief. “Private. I understand you’re new, but I’ve told you numerous times that you simply answer with yes, General. None of that is needed okay, son?”

Still saluting, he replies with, “Yes, General.”

“Put your hand down, son, and call a land speeder for me.”

He quickly nods his head, gives a yes general and proceeds to call in for a speeder.

As you go to walk towards the door, you look over to him and call for him again. He looks at you, saying yet another yes general and smiles. “You’re doing great, Private. I’m appreciative of your aid in the force.”

“Thank you, General.” He exclaims, his face turning red. “I am happy to be here.”

With that you left to go see this Razor Crest.

You waited as you saw the ramp go down with a hiss. You stand at attention with a Sergeant to your right and a Captain to your left.

Your eyes widen at the glimpse of beskar and take a deep breath. You slowly exhale as the broad warrior makes his way down.

“Is this how you greet all of your guests?” he dryly says.

“For the guests we find unsual, yes. What’s your business here, Mandalorian?” you sternly ask.

“Heard there was a festival.”

You simply nod.

“Am I allowed to be here?”

You remain looking at the warrior as you command the other officials to move on.

“I take it you brought more guests on that ancient craft of yours?”

“Just me.”

You take a couple of steps towards him. He doesn’t flinch.

“I’ve never seen a Mandalorian on this planet before. You leave your clan somewhere else?”

“Yes.”

“How unfortunate. They would have loved the festival. Do you enjoy dancing, warrior?”

“No.”

You let out a single chuckle. “By the end of the night, you will. Enjoy the festival, Mandalorian. I suggest you have plenty of credits on hand… with the treats they sell, you’ll want to buy some for the trip.”

“Thank you, General.”

You bid farewell and walk towards your landspeeder. You look back at the warrior and notice he’s still looking at you. “How did you know I was a general?”

“Your confidence. It would be a waste for you not to be.”

You smirk at this. “And the stars on your lapel give it away,” he continues.

You look at your embroidered stars and smile. “Good eye, Mandalorian.” He nods in appreciation as you hop on the land speeder.

“I’ll see you around, warrior.”

“I’m sure,” he says.

You ask the droid to be taken to the palace. You have to get ready too.

Bright colors flow as you walk the streets of the festival. Paper decorations and string lights go from streetlight to streetlight and the sound of laughing children sing songs to your ears. You walk with your father as you both greet anyone who comes in your way. Your father, dressed in an intricate silk number with florals and bright colors, is the embodiment of happiness. His smile is even brighter than the jewelry he wears. You, having gone with a black number with an embroidered masterpiece of bright colored patterns, take in the sight of it all.

As you continue on, you spot a glimmer of silver in the corner of your eye. You turn your head and spot the Mandalorian from earlier, leaning against a tree. You offer a small wave and he returns a nod.

“I want eyes on my father at all times while I’m gone, do you understand?” you speak into the commlink.

“Yes, General. Delta and Sierra on him,” your captain replies.

You excuse yourself from your father’s side and receive a kiss your hand as he smiles at you. You can be the most frightening general in the galaxy, but you are never too tough for a kiss from your father.

You walk towards the Mandalorian and spot the wooden trinket in his hands. “I see you found Mister Ferin’s stand. His work is stunning, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he replies. He sounds much different than earlier today. Is he upset?

“I must admit I have many of his trinkets. He made me a carousel when I was young and I still cherish it everyday.”

“He’s very talented.”

You look at the Mandalorian and are met with your reflection in his visor. “Would you like to walk with me, warrior?”

He pushes himself off the trunk of the tree. “Very well. Lead the way.”

And so you do.

You showed him your favorite drink stand and even convinced him to try one. He refused to take off his helmet, so you improvised. You connected two straws so it would slide under his helmet.

It worked.

You showed him the dance of the elders. He paid attention to every detail of it. He asked about the history, the significance of the colors, and even the music. You felt comfortable. You were more than happy to talk about and when he asked for specifics, your heart fluttered.

How was this beskar-clad stranger so much more interested in the history than anyone you have ever met? Everyone else came for the parties, but he wanted to learn.

He came to learn.

You walked some more as he drank from his two-straw drink. He asked to stop by again and you happily agreed. You got to know him too. You had learned that he had a son – a foundling, he said. You knew he was taken in by Mandalorians and you knew about the events of the last couple of rotations. His stride was confident and was openly speaking to you as if you were best friends the whole time, but then he stopped abruptly. You looked over at him.

“Mando? You okay?”

His visor stayed fixed at the view in front of you.

That’s when you saw it.

He became vulnerable.

His stance turned frail, and his chest began to heave. You looked over and spot an elderly couple sitting on a bench in their red robes, taking in the scene of the festival.

You asked again. “Mandalorian, what did you see?”

“Where did they get those robes?” He gruffed out. There was no emotion behind the question. It felt as if he wasn’t there anymore.

“I… They’ve always had them. That’s what they came here with.”

“Came from where?” He turned to you.

“Their settlement. It was a long time ago. Remember when I said our planet got attacked? So did theirs, except… not many survived from their settlement.”

He stomped over to the couple and you hurried after him. He stopped in front of the couple.

“Where did you get those robes. Where are you from?”

The woman gasped at the Mandalorian, but the man remained still. He eyed the warrior before him.

“What’s it to you, bucket?”

You quickly answer. “I’m so sorry to alarm you, Mister and Missus Pescur.”

“What settlement did you come from?” The Mandalorian asked, more softly now. “I- I know these robes.”

“I doubt it,” the elderly man says. “We were not Mandalorians. Just peaceful civilians who were attacked.”

“You are from Aq Vetina.”

“So what?”

“I… I was born on Aq Vetina. My mother and father were killed in the attack and I was taken in by the Mandalorians. I- I didn’t… I didn’t know there were any survivors.”

“Yeah? Well, you know now, bucket. We have lived peacefully on this planet so do not go around running that rusted helmet about it. The Emperor and the General have kept us safe. You mess that up, I’ll hunt you down myself.”

“Mister Pescur, I assure you this warrior means no harm. He is my guest.”

His wife stands and looks at the Mandalorian. “You are from Aq Vetina?”

He sighs. “Yes.”

Her frail hand slowly reaches for him. He eases his body’s tension and allows Mrs. Pescur to pat the back of his gloved hand. “You’ve seen many things in your life, haven’t you son?”

“Yes,” he chokes out.

“You needn’t be so rude!” She says slapping her husband’s knee. “This poor young man was blind sighted! Apologize!”

Mando chuckles, shaking his helmet side to side. “I should be apologizing.”

Mr. Pescur stands in front of Mando as he sizes him up. “Prove it.”

“Prove what?”

“Prove to me you are one of us,” he says. “I’ll apologize when I see that you lost something just like we did.”

You shift your gaze over to this beskar-clad warrior. You hear a sigh modulate through as he whispers his agreeance. You watch him as he lifts the lapel of a pouch on his belt and pulls a beaded bracelet. Obsidian pearls polished to perfection all tied together with a braided red string. He reluctantly hands it to Mr. Pescur with shaky hands.

“My family name is Djarin,” he states. “My father was a mechanic, fixed anything with a gear… and my mother was a sea-“

“A seamstress,” Mr. Pescur finishes. “Din? Little Din that always ruined his red robes when it rained?”

His wife gasped. “The little boy who would always ask to be hidden from that womp weasel in the market?”

What a small galaxy, you thought.

Within a blink of an eye, the old couple had their arms wrapped around Mando. “My boy,” Mr. Pescur tearfully says, “look how you’ve grown.”

Mando, or Din as you learned, did not reciprocate the hugging interaction. He was paralyzed. “I don’t remember a Pescur family,” he mentions.

“We changed our name here!” Mrs. Pescur exclaims. “My name is Lurina. Do you remember? You’d hide at my mother’s post at the market and would always ask for a berry treat when you left. I must have been in my 20s at the time.”

“Yes!” Din remembered. “You would always carry a blue satchel with the extras for the post.” Mrs. Pescur laughed as she confirmed his memory. Din turned to Mr. Pescur and pointed. “You would help my father when he would fix the generators. You’d always stop by her post.”

As the couple went on and on about the memories they remember from their settlement, Din looked over to you.

“I had no idea that there were any survivors… let alone ever find them. Thank you.”

You shot him a confused, yet genuine smile. “Why are you thanking me?”

“For allowing me to walk these streets.”

You placed a hand on his arm – a wordless you’re welcome. You remained with the couple for a few more minutes before they decided to go back home. You watched as they bid their farewells and Mrs. Pescur sliding the ornate bracelet on Din’s wrist. Din stopped them with a low wait.

He slowly removed his helmet and looked back up and the couple. Mrs. Pescur smiled and ran to him. She wrapped her arms around him as he did her, giving her a short squeeze. As they let go, Mrs. Pescur pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek as she spoke, your parents would be so proud.

Mr. Pescur took his time walking to Din. He reached a hand up and laid it on Din’s other cheek, gently patting it. Din took matters into his own hands and hugged the elder man, giving him a squeeze too. Mr. Pescur laughed and joked Squeeze me with that build of yours and I’ll pop, boy.

The lights over your head became brighter the more you stood there. You patiently waited for Din to slide his helmet back on, but he took a hold of your hand instead. A bold move, you thought. He looked to you and smiled.

Who knew you liked dimples and brown eyes? He wore them well.

“General,” he promptly said. “The night is still young. I’d like to see more of this festival.”

“You a dancer? Because that’s what you are going to get dragged into at this time,” you joke.

“As long as it is with you,” he confesses, “I am willing to make a fool of myself.”

“You don’t even know me, Mandalorian.”

“You can call me Din.” You nod.

“Alright Din, still doesn’t; change the fact that you don’t know me.”

“You’re right… but I’d like to.”

You can’t help but to blush at that. You nod and look around as you hear the music in the background. “Squirt some oil in that armor of yours, Din.” You interlock your fingers with his. You shot a grin in his direction as you bobbed your head towards the music. “We’re going to a festival.”

______

permanent taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl​ 

if you’d like to join my taglist and/or send in a request, please do! I have the links in my bio and right here!

taglist addition

requests

🥲❤️

Because he is backlit in this shot in Chapter 12: The Siege, you can see a bit of Din’s face through his vizor