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Summary: You wake up from a coma in outer space with a limited knowledge as to who you are. You discover a tattoo and you can't help but feel as though that the tattoo and your oddly charming companion are both tied to your forgotten life.
Warnings: Mentions of a tattoo, extensional loneliness, somewhat angsty, Ryland being a space blob, and maybe swear words idk.
Word Count 1.2K
You didn’t expect to find a tattoo while washing up in the Hail Mary’s claustrophobic bathroom. To call it a bathroom would be a gracious statement. Since the ship required so much power the engineers who designed it must have realized a western styled bathroom was out of the question. Instead, they’d opted to create an eastern styled bathroom for the Hail Mary crew members. It somewhat confused you at first since you hadn’t expected it. Nevertheless, the bathroom had triggered happy memories of when you were traveling through Japan in your 20s. Soon you knew what to do and how to properly clean yourself without feeling gross afterwards.
But back to the tattoo… the small inking on your skin had completely thrown you off. You didn’t expect to be the type to have a tattoo. From what you remembered about your life, you didn’t scream to be the type of person to get a tattoo. You had even recalled having a strong fear of needles. So much so that getting your yearly flu shot felt like the end of the world. Regardless, under your lower breast lies a tattoo. The tattoo was only four simple words. Yet you instinctively knew that the words held a lot of weight to them.
“Because you are everything.”
You didn’t think that whoever you were on earth was someone who was cocky. From what you can recall you were rather polite, and humble. Which is why you came to the conclusion that you had possibly gotten the tattoo as a reminder. What the reminder was intended for… well you weren’t exactly sure. Instead you brush it off. You had more important things to worry about. Such as the odd, yet charming man you had woken up with in depths of outer space.
Once you are dressed you head into the lab only to be greeted by the raggedy blonde hair man. He stood slumped over in front of the whiteboard, scribbling things down. When you left him to take a shower the whiteboard was practically empty. Now it was full of words and ramblings. As you approached him you soon realized what he’d been writing. He’d been writing down memories and characteristics the two of you had. You let out a faux cough making yourself known only for him to turn around and smile at you. It seemed that while you were showering he shaved his overgrown beard. He looked better but his long hair still seemed somewhat offputting.
“I figured out my name! And I think I figured out your name!”
You nodded your head and stepped forward. You were greatly intrigued by this. Before your shower you’d established that whoever the two of you were back on earth the two of you were close. Like close close. So close, that you’d even share vague memories of the two of you having sex. Which made the blonde man’s cheeks turn a bright tomato red. He’d then shyly nodded his head upon finding out this knowledge. Clearing indicating that he’d also remembered your love affair.
As a result on the whiteboard he’d simply written: “friends with benefits,” “Get along well,” and “friends.” It satisfied you to a degree. However it also annoyed you since that felt like an oversimplification of who you were to each other. But you left that alone as you were worried that may have been a private thought, rather than an open statement.
You nodded your head and replied. “Okay. What’s your name?”
It made him pause for a moment. He looked at you bewildered and he cleared his throat before asking this, “You don’t wanna know your name first?”
“I can wait.”
He nodded his head. Then turned back to the whiteboard and in blue ink which was established to be things about you. He wrote “patient.”
He then turned back toward you and said, “My name is Doctor Ryland Grace.” He said your full name and you simply smiled. At least now you have an identity. You liked the sound of your name so much that more memories fluid your system. Such as your early childhood memories, who your parents were, and even memories about your extended family. Who could have guessed that with a name you’d remember so much in such a brief period of time? It made you wonder what else could trigger your memories. You decided to test it. Maybe Dr. Grace had once seen your tattoo?
“I just discovered I have a tattoo.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I think it’s new. Not something I had long.” You didn’t know why you added that. It was a spur of the moment sort of remark. You didn’t even know that you’d say that until the words left your mouth. In an instant you began to feel almost protective of the tattoo. Maybe it held greater meaning that you intentionally thought. And then all at once it hits you once he asks to see it. This tattoo wasn’t something that was meant for just anyone to see. It was a promise. A promise you’d made to someone deeply important to you. Your lover… a man who was likely left on earth. As he repeats his question you feel as though the walls are collapsing in on you. In a haste you blurt this out.
“I don’t think I should show it to you… It’s under my breast.”
Dr. Grace nodded his head and looked elsewhere. Clearing his throat. It was extremely apparent that you had made things awkward. With a polite smile he simply said.
“Oh… you don’t have to show it then.”
You nodded your head but said nothing in return. Instead, you decided to distract yourself by reading over what Dr. Grace had written while you had bathed. The thing that stood out to you the most was the fact that he’d written that he was a teacher/microbiologist. While you were a doctor. It made sense, since neither of you had recalled ever being a pilot. Which meant Yao and Ilyukhina were the captain and engineer. You decided it was best to give him some disclosure about why you couldn’t show him the tattoo. Rather than to leave him wondering. He’d been truthful to you what was the point in not having a truthful relationship? It’d only lead to chaos.
“It’s a phrase by the way. I think it’s a matching tattoo. I must have gotten it with someone I loved.”
“What’s it say?”
“I—it’s personal. I know that we knew each other on earth but I don’t want to share it with you. You still feel like an acquaintance.”
He nodded his head. You were somewhat surprised that he didn’t press. For a scientist he could be considerate. Not demanding answers especially after waking up from a coma. You took the red marker from his hand and simply wrote “considerate.”
It seemed that Doctor Grace thought highly of you. Perhaps, it wouldn’t be so bad to work with him after all? At the end of the day that didn’t change anything. The two of you were on a one way ticket to Tau Ceti. Which meant that it didn’t matter how kindhearted he was. It wouldn’t change the fact that you were loved back on earth and you’d never kiss your lover's lips again.
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.ᐟ. ✦ SUMMARY: not all ideas are good ones especially ones that make din realise something he's been keeping hidden deep down inside.
.ᐟ. ✦ WARNINGS: usual star wars violence, jealous!din. he's bad at feelings.
.ᐟ. ✦ WC: 2.3k
.ᐟ . ✦AUTHORS NOTE: hi, this is my first time writing a star wars fic and i'm a lil nervous about it. im just testing the waters to see if i can write din and be happy with it and i think i am so there may be more in the future.
He hated this plan.
No, he loathed it with everything he had.
It was completely ridiculous. Idiotic even and he’d told you as much but you hadn’t listened to him. When did you ever listen to him? There were some days where he wished he’d just left you on Tatooine with Peli. Today was one of those days. It would have made his life a lot easier. You were stubborn, brash, you never listened to him and you irritated him like no tomorrow. But, although he would never admit it out loud, he liked those qualities about you. The way you treated him like a person, not a big scary Mandalorian was nice. Most people cowered in fear when they saw the Beskar but you? You hadn’t even batted an eye.
Din had first met you on Tatooine the day he had first met Peli. You were her younger cousin, forced to help her out with mechanic work even though that was the last thing you had wanted. You had no family left — your parents had been taken captive by Imperials when you were a child and ever since then you had been under Peli’s care. It wasn’t that you didn’t adore Peli because you did but you wanted more for yourself. You wanted to explore the galaxy, see what else was out there other than the desert and dry air of Tatooine. If you had to spend your whole life on this arid planet, you might just walk out into the desert and let a Sarlacc swallow you whole. Din had admittedly been fascinated by you with the way you had completely ignored him, barely sparing him a glance as you mumbled to yourself about the state of his ship. Before he had left the planet, Peli had asked him to take you along with him. She had framed it as ‘payback for watching the little womprat’ but really she wanted you to go out there and see the galaxy like you had talked about. Din had grumbled but, reluctantly, agreed. Those first few days on his Razor Crest had been bathed in nothing but silence until the one day you had finally talked to him.
“Don’t you ever get tired of smelling your own breath in that helmet?” you had asked him. The first words you had spoken to him. It had taken him by surprise. Of all the things you could have said to him, he hadn’t been expecting that.
After that, the sarcastic, teasing comments started coming more and more. His exasperated replies, the tilt of his Beskar helmet tilting to the side as you asked the most ridiculous questions had become your favourite thing. You didn’t fear him, you just liked to get under his skin in a way that made him feel like an actual person and not a bounty hunter. It was how a friend would treat him because… he guessed that’s what you two had become over time. He had to admit, you could be helpful when it came to taking care of the ship but you also often had good ideas for helping him go after his bounties.
However, this idea was awful. Truly.
You had suggested to be the bait. The bounty was a man of luxury who lived to be surrounded by money and beautiful women. The one sure way to lure him out would be to dress up, flirt a little and convince him to come back to the ship with you but Din hated the very thought of it.
“No,” he said simply.
“Come on! You know it’ll work or are you trying to say I’m not pretty enough to pull it off?” You placed your hands on your hips. You were baiting him. He knew it, you knew it.
An exasperated sigh left his modulator, his finger raising to point at you. “Don’t start.”
“Din, come on. It’ll be fine! You’ll be there lurking in the shadows if anything goes wrong. I can do this.” You had placed your hand on his forearm, his armour cool beneath your hands. He gazed down at it, his helmet barely moving so you didn’t notice but that simple touch was short circuiting his brain. It wasn’t often that you touched him — you were very respectful of his creed but whenever you did, it always sent him into a tailspin. Not that he could really feel but just the gesture itself was enough. Not many people showed him affection — well, nobody did so it was foreign for him. His body didn’t know how to react but he never pushed you away.
“Fine,” he relented. “But if things get hairy, I’m bringing him in co-”
“Yeah, yeah, cold. We know the line.”
He huffed, turning back to face out of the windows of the ship into the dark, starry span of space. “Go get ready then.”
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Seeing the plan in action confirmed Din’s thought. It was the worst idea anyone in the whole damn galaxy had come up with. The cantina was full of patrons, seedy types, the ones you didn’t really want to socialise with unless you had to. The type of people Din was familiar with but not the ones you were. These weren’t the type of people you should be around. You were… good. They were not. Din was currently leaning against the back wall of the cantina facing the bar, fingers looped in his belt, one hand on his blaster in case he needed to pull it out in a pinch. His eyes under the helmet were solely trained on you, watching every single move you made.
Currently, you were sitting at the bar with the bounty in question — Kenth Cardell. A fake laugh from you sounded throughout Din’s helmet as you laughed at some terrible joke the man had made. Kenth was leaned in close to you, your hand on his forearm in a move to entice him. Din’s jaw was clenched under his helmet. Every time Kenth’s eyes landed on you, looking over your body or landing on your chest (where they focused most of the time) Din’s blood boiled. It took all the strength he had not to march over there and rip you away from the creep. But, he had to trust you. He did. Some of the time.
His whole body was taut, a feeling building up inside of him that he’d never felt before. It was foreign, unwanted. Each time Kenth leaned forward to brush your hair out of your face or when you giggled at something he said, a pit of anger bubbled up inside Din. It was all consuming, an anger like he’d never felt before. The hand poised on his blaster tightened. His jaw was clenched so hard he was sure he was about to give himself a headache.
Jealousy. That’s what it was.
Din Djarin had never been a jealous man. He had nothing to ever be jealous of before but now seeing some guy all over you? He was experiencing it for the first time and had no idea what to do with it. It was like a dam had burst open inside of him, showing him something he had hidden deep inside him since the moment he had met you. The only thought ringing through his head each time Kenth made any kind of physical contact with you was ‘it should be me’.
Feelings didn’t come easy to Din. With his creed, he had cut himself off from really growing attached to anyone. Grogu was the exception — he was a child, someone Din had taken under his care. But to have romantic feelings for someone? That had never really crossed his mind. Of course he’d had encounters in the past — hook ups and one night stands but they had never really meant anything. They were just a way to satisfy his needs. But now, as he looked at you, smiling a smile (that was entirely fake, he knew that deep down) at some other guy, he released that his heart belonged to you. It was a gut punch to realise he could feel this way about someone.
So lost in his thoughts, he didn’t even realise when Kenth had placed his hand on your leg but he caught it in time to see the man slowly slide his hand up to the hem of your dress. It barely had time to slide underneath before Din had marched over there, blaster out and pointed at the man’s head.
“Hands off,” he growled, his words laced with venom. Kenth instantly pulled his hands away, placing them in front of him in a placating gesture. “I was told to bring you in warm but I don’t think they’d care if a little ‘accident’ happened.”
Your eyes widened. You’d seen him angry before but never like this. It was like his mind and body weren’t working together, like he was acting on pure instinct. If you could see his eyes right now, you’d see how they were raging with a storm so big that the man in front of him was sure to scurry out of the door. The only reason he wasn’t right now was because a blaster was being held to his head.
“On your feet,” Din hissed, pressing the blaster closer to Kenth’s temple. The man was instantly on his feet. Din shoved him forward then darted his hand out to grab your wrist, dragging you along with him as he made his way out of the cantina.
“What are you doing?!” You yelled at him, trying to get yourself out of his grasp but it was to no use. He wasn’t being rough but he was way stronger than you.
“I told you this plan was stupid!” He sneered at you, his helmet rounding on you.
“It was working until you came in and ruined it!”
“He had his hands all over you!”
“And, I was handling it.”
Din came to a stop, the blaster still pointed at the bounty but he faced you, anger seeping out of him through his armour. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was furious but you were confused as to why. As far as you knew everything had been going great. Sure, Kenth had been a little touchy but you would’ve never let it go too far. You had been so close to getting him to come back to the ship with you until Din had showed up and ruined everything.
“His hand was sliding under your skirt for kriffin’ sake! I don’t think that’s handling it,” he growled, the sound menacing coming from his modulator.
You tilted your head, getting a good look at him. His whole body was tense, his blaster held firmly to Kenth’s head even though he was facing you. Then, it hit you. He was jealous. He was jealous and had no idea how to handle it. A smirk crept onto your face, your eyes glancing down to his hand that was still clasped around your wrist.
“Are you jealous?” You teased.
“No.”
“You are.”
“Don’t mess with me right now,” he said through gritted teeth. He nudged Kenth in the head, making him move again, dragging you along.
“That’s adorable.”
“Be quiet.”
The tone in his voice left no room for argument so you dropped it. For now. You let Din lead you to the ship, your eyes focused on the way his shoulders were ramrod straight, his whole posture locked in. The tone of his voice when he spoke had been commanding, angry. It was a stark difference to how exasperated he usually sounded. You had to admit that a jealous Mandalorian was hot. Anyone else would probably be terrified but you were amused. Knowing Din’s past and his creed, you were certain he had never felt anything like this before. It made butterflies flutter in your stomach to know you were the first person to ever bring up these emotions in him.
Once back on the ship, the bounty firmly locked in the carbonite, Din rounded on you. You took a step back, hitting the cool wall of the ship. One of his hands landed at the side of your head on the wall, the other hovering uncertainly by your hip. He was breathing heavily in his helmet, trying to calm himself down. Your eyes glanced down to where his hand was then back up to his visor, hopefully meeting his eyes.
“It’s okay, you can touch me,” you whispered.
His hand hovered for a moment more before he finally, finally made contact with you, his gloved fingers digging into your hip just right. “You’ll never let another man or woman or kriffin alien touch you like that again, you understand me?”
“Why?” You asked innocently. Once again you were baiting him.
“Because…” He was at a loss for words. What could he say? That he wanted you? That he was the only one that should get to touch you? No, he couldn’t. “Just… don’t.”
“Okay,” you said quietly, your hand coming up to rest on his that was on your hip. “I won’t.”
“Good girl.”
Your eyes widened at those words, your whole body igniting. He hadn’t even meant to say them, they’d just spilled out but the effect they had on you? That would stay in his memory for the rest of his life.
The silence was deafening after that. Then, it was like he came back to his senses. He tore his hands from you, taking a step back then without another word he ascended up the ladder into the cockpit. You didn't follow, still too stunned by everything that had just happened. His jealousy, the way his hand had felt on your hip and the ‘good girl’. It all felt like a fever dream. This was the most you had ever got from him.
Din sighed to himself in the cockpit. This was dangerous. He couldn’t let this happen. Feelings weren’t something he was accustomed to. He felt uncomfortable, unlike himself. No, he had to put a stop to this immediately. So, he did the only thing he could think of, typing in the co-ordinates to Tatooine.
I think part of getting better is complete ego death. Like you’re not above setting a timer for 5 minutes and focusing on a task. You’re not above doing a very simple 3 minute workout to start. You’re not above reading for 10 minutes a day when you first get out of your reading slump, even if you used to read for hours. You’re not above starting slow and then building up to where you want to be/where you once were. What you are above is total inertia. Doing something really is better than doing nothing. Radically accept where you are, radically accept your limits, and go from there. Don’t let your ego get in the way.
tumblr glitched while loading this, so instead of "dude get real" being the punchline, it was like this cat put on glasses for the first time and their friend was just. a legit dog. and not like them at all.
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Project Hail Mary is a fantastic example of how filmmakers can create a faithful adaptation and still take artistic liberties. The writers didn't try to copy the book to a tee, and added their own elements (the mental health room, the astrophage transition, the beach scene on erid, Grace's wardrobe etc). They understood that a film is a different artistic medium than a book and tried to write the story in a way that best suited that medium, all while staying loyal to the original story and themes.
i know parents tend to be proud of their children no matter what... but Din saying 'good job buddy' to Grogu after he had completely ignored all of Din's instructions and instead just pressed the buttons which fired missiles was wild
very interesting approach the parenting... Din can excuse Grogu disobeying him and firing weapons but he draws the line at eating cookies before dinner...
hey boy don't kill yourself. green's dictionary of slang is available online and allows you to explore 500 years of english vulgarity. you can search by part of speech, source, time period, etymology, and usage. there's a whole category for gay slang. they even have specific citations listed so you can see the exact context for yourself. boy did you know that in 1927 "to kneel at the altar" was slang for "to sodomize"
Princess: an effeminate and relatively youthful male homosexual or lesbian (1931-4)
Daffodil: effeminate young man (1925)
To throw a fuck into: to have sex with (1919)
Top sergeant: a masculine lesbian (1939) [‘she takes command of the girls’ privates’]
Lily: penis (1919)
Wolf: sexually aggressive man (1847); a homosexual top (1918)
Soul kiss: a deep kiss, involving putting one’s tongue into one’s partner’s mouth (1907)
Tom: a lesbian (1909); [in 'old tom'] prostitute catering to lesbians (1966)
Church mouse: a male homosexual who frequents crowded churches in order to fondle any potential sex partners. (1941)
Discover one's gender: to accept or acknowledge one’s homosexuality (1941) / Lose one's gender: To return to living as a heterosexual
Minty: a masculine lesbian (1941)
Also a lot of early 20th century vulgarity is recorded in Letter from My Father, which is a collection of letters published by a man who's dad was, in short, a major slut and human disaster who wrote about his sex life for his son. It's insane. You can find copies of it online & it's a wild fucking read (literally!) and I think a really interesting look at the life of a person who goes against our stereotypes of what people in the past were "supposed" to be like.
Anyways feel free to add y'all's favs to this post. & if you use this for gay historical fanfic please share with the class
#OH THIS IS EXTREMELY EXTREMELY HELPFUL#writing#resources#saving for later#maybe i should move my 1920s story from '25 to '27 because..... bro..........
note for writers: these are dated to the first time they were recorded, not necessarily to their first use. I imagine for many of these, they came about naturally through spoken language before they were written down anywhere. This is especially true of more underground slang because it's probably being recorded (in ways we still have) the least. So if you wanna use a term but it's a little off date-wise, give yourself some wiggle room.
also gonna take this moment to highlight two more i found recently:
Best boy: a sweetheart, a boyfriend, a husband. (1893) [w the obvious equivalent term 'best girl']
Honeydripper or honeydrips: a sexual partner (1917)
Like. Honeydripper?????? That's so horny I can't stop thinking about it. We need to bring THAT back
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