Ran Into This On One Of The Star Wars Fan Pages On Instagram And I Am DYING. 😭😭😂😂💀💀

I love this

Hello everyone.

I think we’re all aware of how much of a hold Rough Day by has on the Din/Pedro fandom. It’s had countless pieces of fanart, recommendations, fan videos, and so on. It’s everywhere. You can’t go on any social media platform without seeing it. It’s basically its own fandom at this point; some fans are so loyal to the fic that they claim that it’s the “best” of Din fics and compare other people’s writing to it.

And now, people are comparing my art to it.

Keep reading

Miller's Book Nook

Rating: G. Lots of shy fluff. Pairing: Bookstore Owner Joel Miller x Reader Word Count: 600 Summary: You've been infatuated with the handsome owner of Miller's Book Nook and it might just seem that he likes you too. Warnings: Tooth aching fluff, Joel's POV at the beginning.

A/N: I wrote a little something for Secret Springs. @secretelephanttattoo spun the wheel and I got Joel Miller and bookstore, AKA the coziest of cozy dreams. Thank you @saradika-graphics for the divider.

Masterlist

The door jingles alerting him to a customer. Christ, it’s almost time to close. Really? His internal anger dissipates once he looks up. He hides a smile, it’s you, his secret favorite customer, his heart springs to life when you shyly smile towards him. 

He clears his throat, removing his reading glasses and tucking his novel to the side. “Evening, looking for anything in particular?” 

“Oh, hi, no, just browsing, thanks.” 

“Just let me know if you need any help.”

Your head bobbles a nervous nod before turning down the new release aisle.

It’s always the same interaction. Same question, same answer, same response, so why does it always mean so much to him? 

—

You’re running out of shelf space, most of your extra income sits in the cash register of Miller’s Book Nook. You can’t keep away from the cozy brick building with its creaky hardwood floors and cinnamon scented air… not to mention the handsome owner.

Joel.

He’s always here. Quiet, intimidating, a man of few words. If you weren’t such a voracious reader, you’d still be trying to find excuses to stop in just to look at him. 

The text on the back of the book swirls in your head as you hear Joel’s heavy footsteps approach you.

“Heard that’s a good book, it’s next on my list,” his timorous voice is deep, sending a wash of calm across your body.

“I’ve been meaning to get it, guess today’s the day,” you glance up towards him. He wears a slight smirk, his eyes crinkling with warmth. 

“Guess it is. I’ll take it up to the front for you so you can keep looking.” 

“Thanks.”

He grabs the book and walks away, his wide shoulders taking up most of the aisle. A long exhale you’ve been holding deflates your lungs before you move to the next section.

—

A glance at your watch shows it’s fifteen minutes past closing time. Whoops. 

Timid steps bring you to the checkout counter where Joel looms behind, greeting you with a warm smile.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see the time.”

“Not a problem at all, got nothing else going on,” his pleasant and deep voice sends a shiver up your spine.

Your head angles down, searching for your wallet in your bag. 

“On the house.” 

Your head darts up, eyes wide with surprise. “Oh, I can’t do that, Joel.”

This is the first time you’ve ever said his name out loud, you’ve never been formally introduced. 

“I’ll have none of that, please,” he urges the book into your hand. “You’re my favorite customer.” 

His voice softens with the last sentence, a wave of goosebumps prickle across your skin while your head swims with the implication of his words. 

“Thanks Joel.”

One last smile is sent your way before you clutch the book to your chest and leave.

—

You’ve been looking forward to this moment all day. Comfy couch, warm lamplight glowing, a lit cinnamon candle that smells like Miller’s Book Nook, your favorite fluffy plaid blanket covering you, and soft music playing. You nestle yourself amongst all of the coziness and open your new book. A small note card drops out. Neat, angular handwriting is written across it. 

Enjoy. I’m going to start reading it tonight. Please feel free to text me and we can talk about it.-Joel 

Your finger runs across the imprint of his phone number, a huge grin breaking across your face as you reach for your phone. 

Valley Nights 1

It’s 1915 Egypt, and you’re an ambitious librarian assisting on an excavation when American flirt and archaeologist, Jack Daniels, takes an interest…

Well this got out of hand…

Just under 14k. Oops.  

A wee note! The drink is a real thing and it first appeared in the 1930′s, but they’re delicious and fitting so hey ho. The hotels were real too, both are now modern resort monstrosities. 

Rating: 18+ 

Warnings: mention of guns, no real described violence but allusions to a robbery, decade accurate workplace sexism ew gross I know but we’re a boss regardless, graphic sexual descriptions, cum play, oral (f! receiving), Jack Daniels?, maybe non-american reader but I don’t say where from though it’s implied they live and work in the UK at least.

Chapter 2 here

Valley Nights

Sitting alone at a table of the Shepherd hotel bar with a strong coffee, you glance over the sheaf of papers in front of you, mildly annoyed at the haphazard hieroglyph interpretation from one of the Professor’s students. You can’t claim to be an official scholar, it’s 1915 and you were here in Cairo only because of your ‘esteemed dedication as a librarian’. The reality behind Professor Hart’s carefully worded entreaty for you to join the expedition was that you were an unparalleled researcher, he just couldn’t admit it in front of his academic peers. 

Keep reading

JAVIER PEÑA’S HOTTEST MOMENTS

38. 53/139 votes → Javi wearing a plaid shirt in The Kingpin Strategy

if you’re white and you act like race issues are just “unnecessary drama” or “discourse” then sorry to tell you but you’re just…. racist

Reblog if you think asexuality is a legitimate sexuality.

I'm trying to prove something.

Failure

Din Djarin x Reader

Gif credit: @saltybatman

A/N: I couldn’t get this thought out of my head so I just had to write it. I’m still grieving btw

—————-

“Stay here with him, I’ll protect you both. Head to the ship once he’s done” you blankly stare at his visor a death grip on his gloved hand, your breath heaving.

You think you’ve gone into shock. This wasn’t supposed to happen. How did they know where the child was? This was not-

“Y/N are you listening to me?” his stern voice cuts through your racing thoughts. He grips your shoulders. “I need you and the child safe. Promise me when he’s done you return to the ship immediately.” you nod rapidly finally breaking from your trance.

He nodded in approval and takes his blaster out of his holster, “Be careful, Cyar'ika” your hands start to tremble. You weren’t scared for yourself. You were scared for your lover. You were scared for the child that you considered a son. You have to be strong. For both of them.

“Din” he stares at you for a moment. “Come back in one piece please” you begged.

He tilts his helmet as saying “I will”, and takes off down to the stormtroopers. You watch him run, nerves settling at the pit of your stomach. You turned around to face the child, his face still scrunched in concentration. The force field still rising towards the sky in full force. He needs to snap out of it, but till then you had to protect him. 

You took your blaster out of your own holster and gripped it tightly in your hand. Beats of sweat dripped down your forehead, as your eyes dart around the surroundings no stormtroopers insight. For now. Your hand flexes around the gun, as you walk from left to right and around. It felt like hours. It couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes before a sound catches your attention. You look up to the sky, your eyes squinting adjusting to the light. You couldn’t tell what it was-oh no. No.

“Shit” you hissed at the sight of what you assume are troopers. You turn to the child, still sitting on the magic rock.

“Kid, we gotta go!” you rush over to him, he doesn’t move from his place.

“Grogu! Come on! They’re coming! Snap out of it!” your words don’t affect him. 

You huffed and look back at the sky, they’re getting closer. You look back at the force field, “Fuck-here goes nothing” you stretch your arms and inch closer to the child. 

You feel yourself being pushed, pushing at your frame. And maker does it hurt. You grunt as you attempt to inch closer to the child. Your fingers bend at the pressure, but it doesn’t stop you. You inch closer and closer-you feel like you can practically feel his robe, then you felt nothing. You hear yourself let out a scream, your body being thrown mid-air. 

You were launched much further than Din was. You felt your body land on rock, a loud almost crunch ringed in the air as you felt your head come in contact with the hard surface. Your body rolls down the hill, tumbling through the rocks the small amount of grass. Stoping at the bottom, you let yourself lay there. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t feel anything. Not the cut on your temple, that’s slowly dripping. Not pain on the side you landed on. Nothing. But you did feel something. You felt sorrow. Greif. Failure. It hurt more than physical pain. You knew by the time you finished tumbling down the hill the child was gone. If you had just stood there and fought off the troopers then maybe you could’ve made it back to the crest with the child in your arms. It was your fault. No one else could tell you otherwise. You felt yourself become dizzy. Your eyes fluttering open and close, fighting to stay open. You soon let yourself give in. No longer wanting to feel.

Din races up the hill, his heart practically beating out his chest. He tried to convince himself that he could make it. Make it to the both of you. But he knew it was too late. By the time reached the temple, the troopers had already taken off. He watches in anguish seeing his son be taken. But wait-they just have him. He whips his head around, his eyes darting around the temple. He runs to the edge, frantically looking around.

“What is it?” Fennec questions the sudden actions.

“They’re gone” he seethes out but worried.

“Who-”

“Y/N!” he growls. They took the child. His child. And they possibly killed you. All because he wasn’t fast enough. No. They’re not dead. They can’t be. He can’t lose them too. He tries to convince himself to think of the best scenario. He walks around the edge, hoping to see them walk out behind a rock or at least…their body.

“Maybe they went back to the ship” Fennec tries to the calm the distraught Mandalorian.

Yeah maybe. He did tell them to go back. He sighs and starts rushing over to where the crest was parked. He runs, the crest slowly coming into view.

Before he could take another step, a loud boom rings in the air. He looks up to see a blast shoot through the clouds and before he could process it the blast had already made it to the crest.

“NO!” he hears himself yell out. He rushes to the edge, his heart dropping at the sight. 

His beloved home now erupted into flames, parts being thrown left to right. You were in there. You were in the crest when-his knees buckle beneath him. He kneels to the grown roughly, his chest constricted. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. His mind swirls with thoughts. He lost his home. He lost his child. He lost you. He’s lost everything he’s ever cared about.

A tear escapes his left eye, as his bottom lip trembles. He didn’t know he was crying till he felt a hand on his shoulder. He shakes himself from the shock, he roughly pushes the hand off him. “Don’t touch me” he seethes out. He pulls himself back to his feet and turns to Fennec and now Boba.

“They might’ve not been in there-”

“They were”

“Mando-”

“NO! They were in there-where else would they be?!” he yells, his voice cracking at the end. He turns back around and huffs attempting to collect himself. He takes several deep breaths, as he stares at the now-demolished crest. Caught up in his grief he didn’t hear the sound of stumbling footsteps coming down the hill.

“Mando?” he swears it’s only his mind playing games. That you are not calling out to him. He refuses to turn around.

“Mando” his stomach drops at how clear your voice is. He finally turns around in direction of the voice.

There you stood. Like an angel that just dropped down from the sky, even in your state. Your clothes were covered in grass and dirt, cuts lingering your thighs and arms blood seeping through the fabric. A semi-large cut lingered your temple, dry blood surrounding it. Your eyes held a daze but beat red.

“Cyar'ika ” he gasped out, rushing over to you. He pulls you into him, his hands grasping your body as if making sure you weren’t going to just disappear in his arms. He pulls away and cups your face,

“Cyar’ika I-I thought you were dead-”

“Din-” you spoke hushedly when speaking his name.

“I thought I had lost you too-”

“Din, I’m fine” You barely held a smile, tears gathered in your eyes. The dam broke, a sob escapes your lips,

“I failed” you sobbed out.

“I failed and they took him-” He shakes his head, “No-no Cyar'ika, I failed not you-” “No! It was me! I was supposed to protect him and-and make sure he’s with me and take him back to the crest-” “And in a way, I’m glad you didn’t” you shake your head confused.

“W-what do you mean?” you hear him sigh softly, as he attempts find his words.

“It’s gone”

You continue to shake your head “I-I don’t-” “They destroyed the crest” you gaped at him, not fully comprehending what he said.

He takes your head and pulls you to the edge. You stare mouth agape at the sight of the ruins. You snatch your hand away from his grip and turned around. Din’s helmet snaps to your figure in surprise.

“Cyar'ika where are you going-” you ignored his question and proceeded to make your way off the rock.

Your feet carried you to the ruins, somehow tears drying up. You slowly approach the wreckage, your eyes darting around searching for remains. You hear the familiar clink of Din’s boots behind you, slowly approaching you. You walk around aimlessly but stop when something catches your attention. Kneeling, you dig your hand into the dirt grasping a small sphere. You held the ball in your hands, as you stare blankly at it. You feel a gloved hand on your shoulder, then feel him kneel beside you.

“Cyar'ika ” you didn’t lookup.

“Y/N, look at me” your eyes snap back up to him. Your eyes void of emotion, but a fire is lit in them.

“I’m going to kill him” Din is taken aback at your tone. He’s never heard you speak like this. So full of anger. He knew immediately who you spoke of.

“He destroyed our home. He took our child I-” you shake your head and glance down at the ball then you look back at Din.

“He’s going to pay"

——–

Tags:

@66wookies @kiss-evans @kiwi-the-first @theoutsidelandhere @generation-zero @dindja @phoenixhalliwell @godohammers @apples-of-february @chicken-nugget-puta @chicken-ona-stick @dindjarinscape @strangelittlenobody @seasonschange-butpeopledont @din-damn-djarin @wille-zarr @lovelyasfcuk

A Study In Intimacy

1 = Reading to Din

Words = 1207

Warnings = None? Fluff if that isn’t your thing

Summary = Din is jealous of you reading to the Child so you read to him

A/N = I wrote this pre-watching season 2 so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

__________

Keep reading

“Agent Pike, meet Detective L/n” | Marcus Pike

Pairings: Marcus Pike X Detective! Reader.

Summary: The NYPD has-been busting their asses off with a drug case leading to a big underground cartel. Turns out they also steal very expensive art, and the FBI are sent to work with them.

Warnings: Angst, Cannon-typical violence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Keep reading