#i've been updating hairs but also my pride defaults from 2 years ago since some pieces there didn't age that well...
My Top Posts in 2021
my relationship with the sims 4 feels like a loveless marriage
199 notes • Posted 2021-02-25 19:47:21 GMT
It’s Valentine’s day (or at least it is/was in my timezone when I posted this) and here I am, in an ocean of cc projects, clowning myself by being like “Ah yes, let me start a new one” but hey, I enjoy the process and tend to enjoy the end product. Anyways, this knit combo will surely keep your sims cozy but cute during the breezy days...
→ Obnoxiously Cute Sweater
- A cute knit sweater with a heart-shaped cut-out at the chest.
- Has both male and female frames, so tagged as unisex.
- 40 swatches (5 pattern types in 5 color variations each + 15 plains)
- New meshes with a baggy look (female is 3322 poly, male is 3238 poly)
→ Obnoxiously Cute Skirt
- A short knit skirt with custom upskirt (as in there’s no odd skirt void up there so it’s like a realistic skirt)
- Has both male and female frames, but tagged as feminine.
- 40 swatches (5 pattern types in 5 color variations each + 15 plains)
- New meshes (female is 1620 poly, male is 1644 poly)
Obnoxiously Cute Sweater: Simfileshare / Dropbox
Obnoxiously Cute Skirt: Simfileshare / Dropbox
249 notes • Posted 2021-02-14 09:11:03 GMT
watched the lis true colors trailer like in full and like, game is visually gorgeous, plot is intriguing but the power is a bit scary since emotional gameplay can backfire? but they probably know what they are doing...
508 notes • Posted 2021-03-19 13:57:46 GMT
738 notes • Posted 2021-05-15 16:39:32 GMT
1274 notes • Posted 2021-06-09 14:52:46 GMT
Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →
#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #hmmm many thoughts #glad to see cc has made it to the top 5 but not my listc shitpost being that high up #also if you saw me post to the wrong blog mind ya business
Oh okay. Turns out there a bug that means at bunker hill there's no way to steal without being detected :/
#went to get the mgaazine at the top of the tower after reloading. grabbed the flip lighter #went downstairs and what do you know........ #attacked. again :/ #i just ran this time tho im hoping i can come back and they wont attack me #so
#my two brothers get an archeron and the cauldron gives mine to another male?
My Top Posts in 2021
rhysand zoomed right into azriel's mind and told him: if you want something to fuck, go to a pleasure hall. even he knew, even he FELT, azriel's desire. desire to be fucked. not loved. he wanted elain for the closeness of her lips, the nearness of her breasts to his chest. not for her personality, or that she loves flowers and gardening or that they enjoy quiet moments together. he wanted to fuck her. he didn't want to love her.
87 notes • Posted 2021-04-28 08:19:27 GMT
no matter what happens in this show. i’m on kate wallis’ side lmao she deserves SO much better. the trauma she’s been through and continues to go through. jesus, give this girl a BREAK
98 notes • Posted 2021-05-28 11:06:59 GMT
i don’t even want to try to engage with anti elucien’s because 99% of them make no sense and claim lucien’s entitlement. i would be wasting my breath repeating that rhys has acted very similarly in terms of feyre. it’s not a lucien thing, it’s a mate thing.
114 notes • Posted 2021-04-27 23:00:41 GMT
i ain't never seen two pretty best friends. i’ve seen three and their names are nesta, gwyn, and emerie
161 notes • Posted 2021-05-15 18:47:59 GMT
WHEN elain and lucien fuck, it’s over for everyone else
Drew these during classes yesterday. Can you tell I liked one class more than the other? Lol
#sdr2#teruteru hanamura#arty draws #thank you. top right teru. for being wonky af /s #ive realized i dont have a lotta free time now and that makes me very sad #and so i doodle teruterus to make myself feel better #december 8 2021
In July 2014, six members of Ismail Ziada's family were killed in an airstrike during Israeli's 51-day assault on Gaza. On Tuesday, a judge in The Hague told him he has no right to seek justice from the two Israeli military officers most directly responsible for the horrific death of his family -- Benny Gantz and Amir Eshel.
#despite their pain and their pasts and their fears and their previous acceptance of what their lives were destined to be
My Top Posts in 2021
A Friendly Sparring Match
#friday night fights prompt here.
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Pairing: Leonard McCoy x OC Lucy Price
Summary: Captain Kirk and Nurse Chapel join forces to get Doctor McCoy out of the medbay - and a date.
Warnings: Fluff? Oh, and mention of injury and flu.
“Bones!” Jim Kirk jogged down the brightly lit corridors, the Enterprise humming with activity around him. It was the middle of beta shift and crewmen smiled as they made way for their captain to pass.
Leonard McCoy did not smile. He didn’t even turn around – he merely stopped in his tracks, data pad dropping to his side and a heavy sigh leaving his lips.
“Bones,” Jim clapped the doctor on his shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Having my day ruined with whatever you’re about to ask me to do.”
Jim scoffed. “Nice try, but I know you’re still pulling doubles. Your day was ruined to begin with.”
If looks could kill, Spock would suddenly find himself Captain.
“Relax, I’m here to make your day better,” Jim smiled, and Leonard knew whatever was coming would not- in fact- make his day better.
“No.” The doctor continued his walk back to the medbay. He had three reports to finish, a training brief to assemble for Starfleet Medical, and two patients still in isolation following the Enterprise’s recent run in with a nasty strain of Andorian flu. And with Doctor M’Benga being one of those patients- Leonard was running on little sleep, endless cups of coffee, and no patience for his best friend’s antics.
“Bones,” Jim caught him by the arm, wedging his hand between elbow and ribs just as Leonard had done to him since the early days of their friendship. It was a move the doctor and all his nurses used, designed to halt a patient and, if need be, support them. And it was one of the few effective ways at stopping a determined Jim Kirk. Jim had picked up on the move quickly, though he was far less graceful in its execution.
“You’re exhausted,” Jim said. “Take a break and come down to the gym with me. A little exercise to get your mind outta medbay, maybe a nap afterwards-”
“Jim, I can’t-”
“Chapel is more than capable of running medbay for a few hours-”
“I know that! But I have reports to write, and I can’t just-”
Leonard’s padd chimed. He glanced down to see a message from the very nurse mentioned: Chapel was practically ordering him to stay away from his own medbay. ‘If I have to hypo you into taking a break, Doctor, I will.’
With a furrowed brow, he glanced between Jim and the padd in his hands and a quiet snarl emanated as he shoved the padd into the other man’s hands. “Fine. But I don’t see how working out is a break, or how it’s gonna make my day better.”
Jim followed behind him, a mischievous smirk snug on his face. It unsettled the doctor, especially as it remained even when they entered the locker room. Leonard was halfway through changing, dressed in only his boxers when Jim’s comm chirped.
“Captain,” Nurse Chapel’s voice rang through and Leonard turned sharply- and noticed Jim was still in his uniform. “You’re needed in the medbay.”
But Jim didn’t respond. Instead, he quickly grabbed the blue uniform hanging from Leonard’s locker and made a hasty get away.
“Damn it, Jim, what are you up to?” Leonard chased after the man, momentarily forgetting his state of undress. But he paused in the doorway to the gym-
Jim stood, blue uniform and padd still in hand, talking to a crewman: a security officer by the name of Lieutenant Lucy Price. At the sight of the doctor, Jim grinned and nodded towards him. Lucy turned to see the doctor frozen in place, confusion on his face and brows knitted.
Lucy brought a hand to cover her mouth but Leonard could see the way her shoulders shook with laughter. Across the gym, someone whistled and he realized he hadn’t finished changing- he bolted back into the locker room. Only his workout clothes sat in his locker: an old academy shirt, gym shorts, and running shoes. He dressed in those, determined nonetheless to find and hypo the corn-fed-idiot captain responsible for this. But when he reemerged from the locker room, Jim was no where to be found.
Still, Leonard was determined. He was halfway to the exit when he noticed Lucy jogging towards him.
“Doctor,” she smiled. “Kirk said he had some unexpected ‘Captain-y’ things to take care of. Said you’d need a new work out partner?”
“Oh, is that what he said?” Leonard asked, the pieces suddenly falling into place.
The Enterprise’s last shore leave was brief, most of the crew staying in San Francisco for the duration. Jim had dragged him to a local bar filled with cheap alcohol, loud music, and a handful of the crew. After a few drinks, Jim had noticed the doctor’s repeated glances towards the security officer as she danced with Uhura. He’d noticed Lucy wink at the doctor, curling a finger as if to get him to join. And he’d notice the blush that’d crept up the doctor’s neck as he shook his head.
Leonard had successfully kept his feelings to himself until that night. But that was all it took for Jim to start noticing the smiles shared in passing; the cup of coffee sat on the security station, waiting for Lucy whenever she had bridge duty; the peach left on Leonard’s desk after the ship’s kitchen’s were restocked.
“Leonard?” Lucy’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.
“Why don’t I leave you to stretch,” she said, her voice momentarily laced with concern. But with his attention back on her, she continued. “Come find me when you’re done.”
Leonard nodded, watching as she moved back towards the track. As she began another lap around the gym, Leonard took to the mats and stretched. His body protested at every move and he knew it was from working doubles another week, sleeping on his office couch most of those nights.
When he finished, he made his way towards the track and waited for Lucy to reach him. He forced himself to look elsewhere as she did; even in her own academy shirt and leggings, her hair bouncing behind her in a braid – Leonard felt his heart beginning to race and he silently cursed at Jim for setting him up like this.
“Ready?” Lucy said, her cheeks slightly red.
“As I’ll ever be,” Leonard shrugged. “What’d you have in mind?”
“What do you say to a friendly sparring match?”
“After you’ve been running laps?”
“Seems a little unfair to you, darlin-’”
“Unfair to me?” Lucy’s brow raised and her arms crossed over her chest. “If I recall correctly, I was the one to drag you out from under a collapsed building on Upsilon IV.”
“My ankle was broken,” Leonard defended, recalling their second away mission together all too clearly.
The Enterprise had been rendering aid to a village devastated by unusually violent weather; they’d just finished evacuating a medical center when a quake struck and sent the building crumbling down. Lucy had thrown herself atop him, protecting him from debris as best she could. She’d been concussed in the process, and knocked unconscious – right as a support beam fell on Leonard’s ankle. When she’d finally come to and they’d found their comms broken beyond repair, Lucy resolved to carefully lifting the beam and dragging the doctor out. Her reward had been to vomit as soon as they’d tumbled out of the debris, and they’d spent the next two days under Doctor M’Benga’s watchful observation.
“And I was concussed,” Lucy said. “Anyways, Kirk told me you’ve been working double shifts since the flu outbreak. That puts you at twice the disadvantage.”
“I am a security officer,” Lucy’s hands fell to her sides and she turned towards the sparring mats. “C’mon, Peaches, I promise I’ll go easy on you.”
Leonard couldn’t help but smile at the pet name, and he began to follow after her.
“Winner buys the loser dinner?” She tossed over her shoulder, and Leonard’s feet faltered.
For a moment, he thought he’d imagined it. But she glanced back at him with a smile playing on her lips and he knew- just like the man that’d adopted her as a child- she never spoke a word she did not mean. It was a rare trait he’d noticed the day he enlisted, when then-Captain Pike told him of the work he could do and the lives he could help if only he could get his feet off the ground.
And Lucy had a confidence about her, one that was beginning to embolden him with every encounter they shared.
“Darlin,’” Leonard quickly caught up with her. “I’ll counter your sparring match with a straightforward offer to take you on a dinner date?”
“Don’t think you can win?” Lucy continued to smile up at him.
“You said so yourself, I’m at a disadvantage.”
“I said you were at twice the disadvantage, Peaches. But don’t think this gets you out of sparring.”
They reached the mats and Lucy moved to the opposite end, pulling off her shoes and socks as she did so.
“Is that a yes?”
Lucy laughed when she turned and saw him standing there, waiting. “That’s a yes.”
As Leonard removed his own shoes and socks, a quiet voice in the back of his mind told him this was a bad idea – that he wasn’t ready to face another heartbreak. A slightly louder voice told him Jim would never let him hear the end of how his meddling successfully resulted in a date. But when Leonard took his place on the mat and they began to spar, Lucy quickly had his feet out from under him. Her laughter drowned out both voices in his head.
A/N || It’s been awhile since I participated in #friday night fights but something about this prompt just motivated me! Ended up writing this little one-shot instead of working on my current wip (whoops) but the OC is actually one I created a few months ago. I had decided not to write her story but now... I’m reconsidering. 🤔😅 I tagged my general taglist below, as well as a few others I thought might like this. Hope y’all enjoyed! 😊
Fandom: The Mandalorian (Star Wars)
Pairing: Din Djarin x reader
Summary: Din struggles to come to terms with the risk traveling with him poses to your safety, but you won’t hear it.
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings: vague mention of previous injury, otherwise none
previous ~ masterlist ~ next
The temperature inside the Razor Crest continued to rise, sweat dripping down your brow and your breath catching as you stumbled back. You were falling for what felt like the hundredth time but Din’s hand darted out and grabbed your forearm, one of his feet hooking around your own to keep it planted. He pulled you forward and you found yourself standing on both feet instead of sitting on your ass.
“Focus,” Din said, letting go of you and taking up his stance again. “Keep your guard up, don’t drop your hands.”
“You drop your hands all the time,” you scowled, taking your own stance again.
“I can afford to,” he tapped his knuckles against his helmet. It was the only piece of beskar he was wearing, safe in the confines of the Crest as it flew through hyperspace. He’d removed the rest for your sake, the two of you down to your flight suits – the tops open and tied at your waists – and undershirts as you sparred in the cargo hold. Even your boots sat off to the side, below the lone bunk where the child sat. He held his favorite ball in his claws, rolling it as he watched the two of you.
After the events of Mygeeto only days ago, Din had insisted on teaching you hand to hand combat. Although your injuries were superficial and had already healed, he still kicked himself for not doing so earlier. He was determined now that you be able to defend yourself – not only in the event you found yourself alone – but also in the event you lost your weapon again.
So you continued what you had teased was his version of a dance: you, attempting and failing to land a hit; him, easily avoiding you and occasionally knocking you off your feet. Another hour passed before he deemed the day’s training sufficient, and you immediately moved to sit below the child on the floor. Din tossed a canteen your way before moving towards the cockpit, intending to check the nav computer. Your voice stopped him though-
“Do you really think Koresh knows where other Mandalorians are?”
Din paused, one foot on the ladder as he turned to look at you over his shoulder. “It’s the best lead we have.”
“That’s not a yes,” your voice was flat, unimpressed. Although you’d never done business with the gangster, you knew of his reputation. Gor Koresh was a thug, a stout Abyssin who preferred to do his business at the scene of underground fighting rings. His clients were known to wind up cheated or dead – every one of them – and Din hadn’t missed the way you’d tensed when he first mentioned the name.
“Cyar’ika,” he sighed, stepping away from the ladder. “We’ve been over this-”
“And we’ll go over it again, Din. I don’t like this-” As you spoke, leaning against the bunk and drenched in sweat, hair falling in your face, the kid decided he’d rather sit in your lap. The little womp rat seemed unbothered by your state as you helped him climb down. He happily showed you his ball and you paused voicing your disapproval at Din’s plan to coo at him.
The brief reprieve allowed Din a moment to watch you both, a glimpse of something he hadn’t thought of before – a feeling he couldn’t quite name.
“This is dangerous,” you continued, your eyes still on the kid as he settled in your lap. “What if he’s heard about the kid?”
“There aren’t many who haven’t, by now.”
Your eyes snapped up to him, the frown on your face deepening. “And you still think this is a good idea? To take a child previously wanted by both the Empire and the Guild-”
“If I don’t take the kid, Koresh may become suspicious-”
“Is that meant to justify your plan?”
“No,” Din’s voice was quiet, calm as it always was when speaking to you. Another effect you had on him. “But this isn’t my first time doing business with him. He knows what to expect. We’ll make another deal.”
You scoffed. Din was always making deals with people – it was how you came to be flying with him. It was how you’d gotten the jobs on Ryloth and Dantooine, even how you’d gotten a new cloak after he’d used your old one to stop you from bleeding out on Kintan. But it wasn’t that Din was always making deals that bothered you; it was that he always expected others to hold up their end. Sure, he was prepared for them not to. But he still kept trying.
From your lap, the kid cooed and you were reminded why Din always made deals. Doing so was safe – doing so was honest work, and honest work made people trust you.
And you’d come to trust Din entirely.
Din watched as the tension seemed to shake loose from your shoulders, as your hand came up to scratch the kid’s ear. Another coo and a small smile tugged at your lips.
Domesticity. That’s what Din had caught a glimpse of.
“Okay,” you spoke again, standing and turning to place the kid in his hammock above the bunk. “But I’m not sure I can get my new comm working before we arrive.”
Behind you, Din shifted uneasily. His voice came hesitant even through the modulation, “That won’t be an issue.”
You faced him with a raised brow, a questioning look written on your face as you thought of Mygeeto. But where you thought he meant to keep you beside him at all times, he actually meant to keep you aboard the ship. He told you as much, but his concern for your safety fell on deaf ears.
“You’ll take the kid, but you won’t take me?”
Din tried to explain, to tell you that while the kid would be expected you wouldn’t. He tried to explain that Koresh knew his own reputation, too, and that he didn’t fly with others. What he couldn’t voice was the slight fear though. Din knew if he showed up- if Koresh saw you standing at the Mandalorian’s side, he would know what you were to him. Koresh would see your value instantly, recognizing you as a weapon to be used against him. He’d see you as a tool, something to be used and tossed aside. You’re safety would be at risk, and Din felt the increasing need to keep you safe.
“Don’t, Din. Don’t ‘cyar’ika’ me. I’m going-”
“No, you’re not.” Din crossed the hull to stand before you, gripping your arms firmly as you attempted to turn away from him. He had yet to put his gloves back on, his hands still bare from your sparring and the feel of his skin against yours caused you to falter. Although he’d been without them for hours- although you knew his name and had already adjusted to using it freely within the Crest- you still weren’t quite over the shock of how it all felt. You still weren’t quite over the shock of how he made you feel, of how much such small gestures meant.
“Please, cyar’ika,” he stood mere inches before you, his visor fixed on your face as his hands gently slid down the length of your arms. “Trust me on this. You’ll be safer here, and I need you to be safe.”
You felt his fingers wraparound your wrists, your heart rate increasing but you didn’t dare tear your gaze away from where you knew his eyes to be. “I need you to be safe too, y’know,” your voice came quiet.
Din felt your own hands turn, your fingers grazing his but not pulling away. He saw the way you glanced at them for a moment and how your shoulders sagged ever so slightly. But then your gaze found his again and you nodded, “Come back to me.”
“I will. I promise.”
A/N || Once again, this fic kicked my ass! It’s the first time I’ve written a reader insert - I’ve always written OCs - and it’s proving to be quite the challenge for me. I’m not sure why, but it’s just enough to throw me off while writing. I’m finding other aspects that I don’t usually struggle with to be very difficult, and that’s been a very frustrating hurdle to get over. But alas, chapter three was eventually written! (And rewritten and rewritten and rewritten and..) Many, many thanks to one of my Tumblr wifeys, Ava, for being so lovely and kindly commenting and giving me the motivation to take a deep breath, step away for a bit, and come back renewed and refocused on trying again.
As always, I hope y’all enjoyed it! I’m also quite proud to tell y’all this series has officially been titled: Trust Fall. Hoping y’all will catch the theme that inspired the title throughout the fic.
In the last week, I’ve been tagged by @keeper0fthestars @astridmayewrites and @avaeverstone ! Thank you for tagging me, my loves!! 🥰
From a Star Trek AOS one shot that, a month after drafting, is still awaiting editing..
Her tears wet his jacket as she tells him how proud their father would be.
No pressure tags @hlabounty96 @blueeyesatnight @starlightmornings @clydesducktape @captn-andor and @ anyone else who wants to play along!
64 notes • Posted 2021-11-16 23:04:07 GMT
-> Tag Game: Last Line
I was tagged by both @writing-with-melon and @coping-via-clint-eastwood to share the last line I wrote from any WIP, so I started a new chain so that I can say thanks to both!
So thank youuuu 🥰 I always enjoy these games!
But his visit would have to be short, for the queen still expected him. (‘His Lady of the Night,’ part six.)
Tagging: @dreaming-about-fanfictions @hlabounty96 @dw-writes @ladyideal @urban-trek-thru-middle-earth @avaeverstone @pens-swords-stuff and @ anyone else who wants to play along! (participation always optional)
72 notes • Posted 2021-02-17 19:49:19 GMT
Chapter One: The Dance
Fandom: The Mandalorian (Star Wars)
Pairing: Din Djarin x reader
Summary: After helping a village, the locals have a celebratory bonfire to thank the Mandalorian and his crew. As you dance, he can't help reflecting on how you'd met.
Word count: 1.1k
Warnings: fluff, mention of injury and brief violence
masterlist ~ next
The air was filled with the smell of bonfires, the sounds of various voices singing shanties of old. Men and women and children – Humans and Twi’leks living together – danced wide circles around the fires, their arms linking together briefly as they moved and traded partners. Each wore a smile, careless in their movements now that the threat to their village was gone.
The Mandalorian watched with curiosity. He was unmoving, sitting quietly just beyond the reach of the bonfire’s light; his green-eared foundling between his feet, munching and cooing and eyes darting from one dancer to another.
With the end of the shanty, another started and the Mandalorian’s helmet turned slightly at the sound of your gasp. He saw as a smile graced your features, the joy of the villagers reflected in your eyes.
His subtle movement didn’t go amiss and you leaned into him slightly. “I know this one,” you said. “Ships crew used to sing it on The Talladega.”
When you sat straight again, he continued to watch you. You began to hum, your feet tapping along to the rhythm. But his silent observation of you wasn’t unnerving; you’d never found it to be. And he took it for granted, he knew it. Just as he took for granted the warmth of you sitting beside him.
“Crews used to sing ‘em, on the seagoing ships of old,” you spoke again. “Shanties kept morale up, but more importantly they kept everyone moving together. Kept the ship moving. They’re a bit old school, a bit traditional but Talladega was all about tradition.”
The Mandalorian’s helmet turned back toward the villagers. One of the women, her long dress dirtied from the dust dancers were kicking up, caught sight of the trio and began to make her way over. She smiled kindly, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she approached and offered her hand to you. You didn’t hesitate to take it, and the Mandalorian watched as you joined the circle of dancers.
For two months, you’d been flying with him. For two months, he’d watched as you gracefully moved about his ship. You tinkered here and there, assisting him in repairing the ship and bandaging his wounds. And in caring for the child.
He hadn’t hesitated in letting you in – not when your first meeting was taking a vibroblade through the abdomen to protect the child.
The Kintan market had been busy that day, packed with locals and travelers and hunters alike. He hadn’t noticed you when he’d passed you, carefully picking fruit from a stall, but you’d noticed him: the beskar was hard to miss. Your gaze had lingered a fraction too long, but in doing so you’d caught sight of the hunters tailing him. Your instinct had said to turn away- to put as much distance between you and the being who so carelessly put his heritage in sight of everyone. But the small pram floating beside him made you hesitate.
‘Mandalorians always have each others backs.’
You’d cursed, dropped the fruit on the ground and slid through the crowd easily. Before the Mandalorian ever saw your face, you were back to back and surrounded by bodies. He’d turned to you to thank you, calling the pram back to his side from where he’d pushed it to safety. The lid was open again, the child momentarily distracting you both.
But there were more hunters lurking – there always was.
The Mandalorian, knocked from his feet, could only watch as you put your body between a hunter and the child and crumpled to the ground. And after ensuring those remaining breathed no more, he’d carefully carried you back to his ship.
He spent the last of his medkit attempting to heal you, and by some maker-given miracle it was enough. When you were able to stand on your own, no longer needing the cool beskar to hold you steady, he’d promised to take you wherever you wanted.
You’d confessed you had no where to go. You, like him, were always running.
It was only a week ago that you’d confessed something else though: you, like him, were of Mandalore. Not a foundling, but born on the planet long since lost. Your father – sworn to the creed – had hidden your family of four away on a ship at the height of the siege. You and your brother were only children then. Now, you were the last of your line.
“Our parents were killed when the captain revealed us to the Empire,” you had told him. “Trais and I escaped, but from then on we hid who we were. We did it to survive-”
He could see the pain in your eyes as you spoke.
“-we lost our way in the process. We took no creed, no armor. I can’t even speak Mando’a anymore.”
With your decision to stay – to no longer run from your heritage and instead trust in the Mandalorian – he’d began slipping Mando’a into your quiet conversations. Some of the words you recognized, but most he had to teach you.
Cyar’ika was not one he had to explain.
That night, back aboard the Razor Crest and with the child tucked away in his pram, you stood before him as he cleaned his blaster. When his visor met your gaze, you offered him your hand.
He swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond.
“Dance with me,” you spoke gently, still offering your hand to him.
And as he remembered the trust you’d placed in him – in traveling with him and walking beside him, the child’s pram always safely between you and his beskar – he took it.
He held one of your gloved hands in his own, the other placed gingerly at the small of your back. He had watched as you danced with the villagers, how your graceful movements lost some of their sway in your relaxed state. You’d laughed and spun and stepped with a spirit he’d not seen from you yet. But the Mandalorian was a patient man.
His helmet glanced between your feet – where he was careful not to step on you – and your small smile. You were humming again, the same shanty you’d been pulled away to dance to earlier in the evening. You led him through the steps slowly, until you came to the end of the tune and you both stood still in each other’s presence.
You made no immediate move to step away from him, one hand still in his and the other on the arm wrapped around you. The Mandalorian felt himself unable to tear his gaze from yours, as you seemed to find him beneath the visor.
“You should rest,” he said, his voice modulated through the helmet. “I’ll take first shift and get us in the air.”
You nodded, finally dropping your hands from each other. “Thank you for dancing with me, Mando.”
As you walked towards the lone cot in the ship – the one you took shifts to sleep in – you heard his quiet response.
“You’re welcome, cyar’ika.”
A/N: I've been toying with a Mandalorian fic idea for ages and, after a bit of inspiration, decided to use it to attempt an x reader one shot! Although I'm very tempted to continue this story. But for reference, this takes place in between The Mandalorian seasons one and two! Please, please let me know if anything is written weird in terms of the x reader aspect of it- this was my first time writing it and it was a bit of a challenge for me! I also tried to keep it gender neutral, so if I misstepped anywhere please let me know that too. Othewrise, I hope y'all enjoyed it!
P.S. I had absolutely no idea who to tag, so I fell back onto my Everything Taglist. If you'd like to be removed/added to possible future Mandalorian fics, lemme know in whatever way you feel comfortable!
For every post I created, I reblogged 33.1 posts. (hmm...maybe I should change this ratio 🤔)
I added 7,382 tags in 2021 (🙈)
#thranduil - 1153 posts
#the hobbit - 1141 posts
#the elvenking - 851 posts
#lord of the rings - 696 posts
#king of woodland realm - 649 posts
#the king of mirkwood - 628 posts
#fanart - 607 posts
#fan art - 597 posts
#gifs - 556 posts
#magic portal is open again - 504 posts
Nobody is surprised about my tags, especially about #1 I'm sure but there seems to be a pattern 😄
Longest Tag: 123 characters
#yes meleth nin...i'm with child *sounding a little surprised*...i didn’t expect that actually when i went to see the healer
Yep, I hide my stories in tags 😄
My Top Posts in 2021
I changed the posts to links for easier scrolling. 😊 Besides, only 10 photos allowed 🤷♀️
#5 Keep Calm and Love Thranduil (oh, I definitely will 😏)
#4 Name day dedicated to the most sacred animal of ancient Finns - the bear
#3 English, Swedish, German and Finnish conjugation
#2 Terry Pratchett quote with one of my sunrise photos
#1 Happy Full Moon starshines! 🌕🧚♀️✨
Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →
#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #my tags expose me 😄 #although no surprises there for anyone #my top posts are a bit all over the place but who cares 😄 #photos mostly #a bit of humour too