Latest Posts by cepsofcordy - Page 3

Nemesis (Marcus Moreno x reader)

Summary: When you end up drugged and unable to look out for yourself, you show up on the doorstep of your nemesis, goody two shoes Marcus Moreno, hoping that he’ll take you in.

Rating: I’d say this i pretty safe for all.

Word count: ~ 1900 (more of a ficlet than a fic, really)

Warnings: None.

Notes: There has been no beta for this so all mistakes are my own. If you spot any, feel free to point them out.

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Jalapeno Business

Summary: You get more than you bargained for when you get your COVID19 vaccine.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (no Y/N)

Rating:  E for everyone (mildly suggestive language, mentions of needles)

Words: ~2500

Tags: FLUFF, reader is afraid of needles, mentions of the pandemic/COVID19, reader gets the shot but it is not described, references to Frankie being in the military, literally the worst jokes you’ll ever hear in your life

Notes: This is very loosely based on my experience getting my COVID19 vaccination! Obviously, reader and Frankie are breaking a lot of rules here for the sake of the story, so suspend some disbelief. In real life, wear your mask, continue physical distancing, and get vaccinated when/if you have a chance! (If you want to know what it was actually like when I got a vaccine, feel free to send an ask, but I’m sure it varies by location!)

Also, for non-US English speakers, jalapeno is said like “All up in yo’ (your)” here!

TAGLIST FOR ALL PP CHARACTERS IS OPEN

Tags: @ophelialoveshandsomemen​ 

You were more nervous than you cared to admit driving up to the large tent in the distance. Usually, tents like this were meant for weddings, festivals, large get-togethers—but since the pandemic hit, they were now being used as testing centers and vaccination sites. After months of waiting, you finally qualified under the state’s ordinances, and it was your turn to do your part. You were adamant about receiving the vaccination, happy to contribute to any sort of herd immunity or push toward normalcy, but your heart still beat out of your chest at the sight of the tent.

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Miller Morales Mechanic Shop (Frankie Morales x f!Reader)

Part One of Miller Morales Mechanic Shop

Summary: Something is wrong with your car. What, exactly? You have no clue. So you bring it in to some professionals- who also have a toddler running around the shop.

W/C: 2.3k

Warnings: language, Frankie is a dad, brief mention of divorce and trauma bc poor Frankie, there is a child heavily involved in this so if you don’t like kids this isn’t for you :)

A/N: WELCOME TO PART ONE EVERYONE! This is such a cute AU and I’m BEYOND excited to start sharing it with you all! I don’t know how many parts this will be or anything but I can’t wait to take it and run with it.

Marisol Morales behaves for very few people. One of those is Ben Miller. Unfortunately, she has decided to break her own rules today.

Frankie loves summer. He loves his little girl playing outside in her baby pool, taking her for walks around the neighborhood with their three-legged dog, all of the fun parts. The hard part is when the nanny goes on a vacation and Mari has to come to work with him.

Benny and Frankie, ever since the chaos that was the Lorea mission, run a small mechanic shop together. Miller Morales Mechanic Shop isn’t necessarily the busiest place in town, but they make enough to get by and have some disposable income too. Mari loves to hang around the shop with her daddy and uncle. She’s there more than Frankie would like, but he supposes it’s not the worst thing in the world. When Frankie and Jules split and Frankie won full custody, he’d hoped a nanny would take care of most everything when Mari is home all day in summer. Sadly, he was in for a rude awakening when no Mary Poppins showed up on his doorstep.

It’s normally not too bad; Benny hung the moon in Mari’s eyes. If she won’t do something for her daddy, which is still somewhat rare, she’ll always do it for her Uncle Benny. That makes the day run much smoother. Mari has a whole host of quiet-time activities and toys to play with, and the men generally trade off periods of either working on the cars or being with the little girl.

Her favorite activities at the shop include drawing on the concrete with thick sticks of chalk and playing with her toy helicopters and planes. Benny insists tanks are cooler, but Mari prefers flying her Polly Pockets in the chopper, running through the garage and making flight noises. She’s a smart little thing; for her age, she’s picked up big words and can make sentences out of three words, which is quite a stretch for a baby just over two years of age. She calls for Benny and Daddy and knows the names of his tools: wench, scu-dwive, and her favorite, win-seeled wipe fwuid. She loves to babble at customers while they get their oil changed.

-

Being shit with cars is no fun. It only increases the anxiety when some light flashes on your dashboard. The lights can mean so many things that you find it ridiculous; “check engine”? Check it for what? To save yourself the anxiety, you find your nearest mechanic and pay them to deal with it.

Today, as you pull over into a gas station, you check your phone and find that the nearest shop is a place you haven’t heard of. It must be new. Miller Morales Mechanic Shop, 0.6 miles away. The name implies something more local and homegrown. You’re more than willing to support a place like that, so you start up the engine, pray you don’t explode, and make your way over to the shop.

It’s nearby, like the map indicated. The outside is a quaint little place, tucked in a strip mall next to a coffee shop, a dentist, and an insurance agency. The three car bays are empty, and knowing next to nothing about how these shops work, you pull inside and park your car, letting it run as you wait for an employee. The bell dinged to let them know you were here, so you stay patient and listen idly to the hum of the talk radio show from your car’s speakers.

After a minute or two pass, you realize that maybe this wasn’t the right place to be. Maybe you were supposed to go in the front or something. Concluding that you probably aren’t where you’re supposed to be, you turn off the car and get out only to be greeted by the sound of buzzing lips.

You can hear a baby’s voice, mimicking some kind of vehicle’s sound, and for a second you’re worried this place must have you hearing things. Then, from a swinging door to the front comes a little girl, running and babbling to herself about her toy helicopter.

She has a head full of dark brown curls, tied back into two puffs with pink scrunchies, and matching pink leggings and a t-shirt far too big for her, the back emblazoned with the shop’s logo. She’s barefoot, tiny feet slapping against the cold cement.

“I told you I had to piss, Fish!” A man’s voice shouts from one end of the garage.

“No you didn’t, dipshit!” Another man shouts back. Being caught in the middle of their argument is quite comical, if you’re being honest with yourself. “She’s fucking two! You can’t leave her alone like that, man!”

The first voice is matched to a person as a tall blonde man emerges from the customer service side of the shop. “Marisol Morales, come here,” he insists sternly as he rolls up the sleeves of his jumpsuit. “Come on, you’re gonna trip.” Ben is embroidered on a patch over his heart.

She pouts at him before stumbling forward and continuing to run, stopping as she sees you and looking up in confusion. Her lower lip sticks out in a pout as her eyes scan your face, as if she’s trying to remember if she knows who you are. “Hi,” she finally concedes as you bend to her level.

“Hi there,” you smile and hold out a hand. “What’s your name?” You pick her up, holding her on your hip so that she doesn’t trip, like Ben so desperately feared.

The second, unknown voice shouts for the little girl again before boots clunk on concrete up to you, rounding your car and stopping. This must be the girl’s father, you realize, as you rake your eyes up his body. He wears the same navy blue jumpsuit as the other man, though it’s unsnapped over his chest, exposing the white t-shirt beneath. The patch on his chest reads Catfish. He wears a ball cap and warm brown curls peek out from under it. He has scruff and a hooked nose that perfectly matches the one on the little girl. “I Mari,” she introduces herself proudly.

“Hey, leave her alone, Mar,” the man shakes his head as he hoists her up to hold her on his hip. “I’m so sorry about that,” he says with an embarrassed smile, showing a dimple beneath the scruff on his chin.

“No, it’s not a problem,” you laugh then set her down and tell the little girl your name. “Aren’t you just the cutest?” You chuckle as she looks at you. She blushes and buries her face in the man’s chest, giggling shyly.

He looks down at the little girl then up at you again. “Well, uh, hi. I’m Frankie, and you’ve met Mari already.”

“Your daughter?” you ask as you look at the pudgy little girl, who now stares at you in awe.

Frankie nods and adjusts his ball cap, pushing his hair back with it. “Yep. Our nanny is on vacation, so she gets to hang out around here,” he chuckles and kisses her head, setting her down. “Go see Benny, yeah?” He asks her. She happily waddles off towards the blonde man, who gives you a wave then heads into the back. “What brings you in?”

“Would you laugh if I told you I don’t really know?” You admit with a shy smile. “My check engine light came on while I was on the highway. I don’t know the first thing about cars, so I was hoping you’d figure out what that meant.”

“Nah, no laughing here,” he nods and gives you a genuine smile before looking over at your car. “Shouldn’t be too much of a problem. I’ll have you pop the hood for me and I’ll give it a look?” He asks.

“That would be great. Thank you,” you tell him, the desperation for his help in your voice. Now that you get the chance to really look at him, he’s quite attractive. His eyes are deep set and a beautiful brown, and they crinkle when he smiles. Facial expressions only accentuate the lines in his face, but he’s certainly not old. His eyes still hold his youth.

“No problem.” He leads you to the car and you pop the hood open before getting out. “Could I take your keys?” he asks you. “Just so I can turn it on and off and all that good stuff.”

“Yeah, of course,” you nod frantically and hand them over to him. “I’ll… be in the waiting room?”

“That’s how we usually do it,” he chuckles as he takes the keys from you. “Just shout for Benny if Mari annoys you again.”

That makes you frown. “She’s not annoying at all. She’s adorable,” you smile as you look over your shoulder and see her and the blonde man playing together.

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive,” he laughs and points his wrench at you as he walks to the hood of the car.

Shaking your head, you can’t help but laugh as you head back to the waiting room. You walk in and Mari perks up, turning to look at you. “Hi! Playing helicopter,” she tells you in her stunted speech as she holds up the toy.

“You sure are,” you nod and sit next to her. “Can I play?” You ask, looking up at Benny, silently asking him the question too.

He nods and Mari squeals happily. “Friend!” She shrieks and hands you another helicopter. “Go pew pew, okay?” She drags them across the toy mat like they’re cars, and you follow suit.

“Okay,” you laugh. Looking up at the blonde man, you extend a smile his way and introduce yourself. He’s busy repairing a Barbie dollhouse with a screwdriver.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Ben, Benny, whatever you wanna call me.”

Driving your helicopter around the ground, following Mari’s lead, you chuckle. “No preference?”

“Fish calls me Benny.”

“Fish?” You ask and tip your head.

“Frankie, whatever. We’re buddies from the service. His code name was Catfish,” the man explains with a shrug, testing the hinges of the plastic door.

That makes you smile down at Frankie’s daughter. “Really, just buddies? Could’ve sworn you’d be brothers,” you tease the blonde, blue-eyed man. “Does Frankie know how to do his daughter’s hair?” You ask and fiddle with her two pigtails.

“Yes, he does,” Frankie insists as he walks out to the front, cleaning a wrench. “But just barely.”

You look up at him, embarrassed. “Her pigtails just look a little messy. Then again, she was running around like crazy,” you laugh and watch her rush over to Frankie, insisting he pick her up.

Bending down to grab her, Frankie groans at the ache in his joints. “She was. I could use some pointers, if you’ve got ‘em.”

“Of course,” you nod and stand too, brushing the dust from the concrete floor off on your pants. “What’s the verdict on the car?” You ask.

Frankie turned, watching as Benny walks out to the shop, but he turns back to face you. “Oh, right. The engine was misfiring, and unburned fuel was being put into the exhaust system, and that damaged the catalytic converter.”

You nod as you listen to him, really staring at his face more than anything. He’s just so damn pretty, you note as you admire the curve of his nose, his slightly sunken and dark eyes. His lips look beautiful and soft, even though they seem a little chapped. When he stops talking, it takes you a second to process it. “I don’t know what that means,” you admit with a shy smile. “I told you. I don’t know shit about cars,” you laugh, playing it off like you were lost when you were really lost in his eyes.

He shakes his head and laughs, bouncing Mari on his hip. “Your car is gonna need some work. Couple hours,” he shrugs. “If Benny and I get to working on it together, an hour and a half, maybe?” He admits.

“Yeah, that’s great. I can watch Mari,” you offer.

Frankie would never be this trusting normally. You’re a straight-up stranger, but your demeanor is good enough for him. Besides, you’re right here. He can check on the two of you every so often, and Mari seems to love you. “That would be great,” he smiles. “You really don’t have to.”

“No, I have nothing better to do,” you chuckle and look at the little girl. “You wanna play?”

Mari nods excitedly and Frankie sets her down. She rushes back to her toy mat and you watch her go. “Thank you, again, for fixing all this.”

“Just doing my job,” he nods. This time, it’s his turn to admire you. He stares at your face, examining the curves and angles that make you up. Your eyes are kind and warm as they follow the little girl, and he can see that he’s making a good choice here.

When you sit down, Mari comes and sits cross-legged across from you. “What are we gonna play?” You ask her, looking at her wide variety of toys. Her pile includes dinosaurs, Matchbox cars, lots of toy helicopters and planes, Barbie dolls, and a plastic tea set.

“Tea party!” She says and hands you a tiny plastic cup and a felt muffin.

“Oh my goodness,” you gasp in a fake accent. “How delightful!”

Frankie peeks over his shoulder at the two of you. He could really get used to that sight.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @deltadebelleza @tacticalsparkles @queridopascal @wintermuteway @maievdenoir @dobbyjen @beskarboobs

the long way around - chapter one

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader Rating: M Summary: When Teresa and Jane come into town on FBI business, Marcus panics and says you’re his girlfriend when Teresa suggests meeting up.  Word count: 2,413 Notes: I’ve had this idea for a while. It’s probably going to be three parts total with these idiots. Marcus’s middle name Miguel comes from the wonderful @ezrasbirdie​​. Reblogs appreciated ❤️ Warnings: Swearing, mutual pining, mutually unrequited, fake dating, idiots to lovers, kissing

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist || taglist || read on ao3

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the long way around - chapter one

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader Rating: M Summary: When Teresa and Jane come into town on FBI business, Marcus panics and says you’re his girlfriend when Teresa suggests meeting up.  Word count: 2,413 Notes: I’ve had this idea for a while. It’s probably going to be three parts total with these idiots. Marcus’s middle name Miguel comes from the wonderful @ezrasbirdie​​. Reblogs appreciated ❤️ Warnings: Swearing, mutual pining, mutually unrequited, fake dating, idiots to lovers, kissing

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist || taglist || read on ao3

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Sunshine

Pairing: Jack Whiskey Daniels x gn!reader

Rating: PG-13 for character death

Warnings: character death, angst, pain (I know it’s all the same but you need to be super warned)

Word Count: 516

Author’s Notes: This just happened one day. I was sad and welp here it is. Enjoy and feedback is always welcomed. Gif credit to @pascalisthepunkest​ Also to my tag list I hope it is okay I tagged you all in this. If you want to opt out on future angst of this level let me know and if you want to be tagged in any future fics please let me know!

  Jack heard the familiar melody being hummed through the cracked door of his home office. He smiled slightly to himself at the sound the song you constantly picked to hum or sing when you did things around the house. If any other song failed you it was always there to fill your mind and the shared home. Jack slowly got up and quietly stepped to see you in the kitchen your hums now words as you worked on dinner. He was stealthy as he came up behind you and let his voice join yours as he wrapped his arms around you. The two of you swayed around the kitchen singing the song to one another before ending it with a kiss.

  All too many times this had happened. Jack bought you things with the lyrics engraved or printed across it. It has more or less became your song. The one the two of you seemed to now share. Your mother had sang it to you, you now shared it to him and one day he prayed he would get to sing it to your children. Life sometimes doesn’t work that way.

    The pain was all too much for Jack too bare but he had to hang on for you. He had to look into your eyes one last time and see your beautiful face. The thought of leaving you alone in the world made him fight all the more harder ever though he already knew.

Your phone had dropped to the floor, you had never rushed around so fast and drove so fast with absolutely no care. You ran as quick as you could, shaking and on the verge of sickness. This wasn’t happening. No. He couldn’t be ripped away from you not yet. Not when you had your whole lives ahead of you. You were just getting started.

Eyes full of sorrow watched you as you slowly walked into the room. There he was and you knew the second you saw him. The tears bubbled up and spilled down your cheeks. You let yourself let out a few sobs at his still form. His chest still rose and feel but just barley. The heart monitor at a slow beep. The rest of the room was excused to give the two of you your last moments together. You climbed onto the bed without hesitation and you pulled Jack into your arms. You were careful not to hurt him. His head feel to your chest and his eyes fluttered open. You held him and he reached up to grasp at you. You started to sing.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are grey

You’ll never know dear how much I love you

Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

As you sang the last line the heart monitor went into a long beep and he slipped away from you. You sat there and sobbed as you held him. You kept try to sing to him like it would bring him back but it never would. Your sunshine had been taken away.

Tagged: @jimmythegirl​ @arcadianempress​ @discogrrl​ @immundusspiritu​ @someplace-darker​ @thisis-theway​ @ohpedromypedros-main​ @scribbledghost​ @on-the-razor-crest​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @spookyold-saintjm​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @princess-and-pedro​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @littlevodka​ @mack4676​ @perropascal​ @prettyboyskywalker​ @all-hallows-evie​ @the-mandalorian-clone-lover

Why do you reblog your own fics so much?

Because someone might as well!? And look at this. Look. At. This.

Does this look right to you??

These are just the last three fics I wrote. I appreciate the likes, believe me I do, but you have to understand. Likes do nothing for content creators. It’s the reblogs. Because that’s how you find shit on your dashboard. Through reblogs. Not likes. This isn’t twitter or tiktok or instagram. This is a website that’s run by the reblog system.

Reblogging helps content creators put their stuff out there. Why do you think so many people stopped writing fanfic and creating beautiful fanart and edits? It’s because they put in hours of work and don’t get nearly enough notes for their masterpieces. Yes we do this because we enjoy it but like...some validation won’t hurt. A boost of confidence here and there might be all someone needs to finish whatever thing they started and left.

Anyway, I’m still going to reblog my shit...

High As The Stars

I do not own the GIF.

Word Count: 1239

This hasn't been the first time Din has returned with more wounds than you could count. With each lucky bounty that took less than one day stacked up the slow amount of karma waiting for Din the next time. And here you were, hovering over the Mandalorian as he bled out.

"Hey! Just keep your eyes open. Squeeze my hand."

You shout, one hand busily tearing the beskar from his torso as the other was faintly gripped in his bloody leather hand.

"C-Cyare."

You press a small kiss against the helmet, pulling out antiseptic wipes to clean the heavy gashes. You grimaced at his moan of pain, his grip becoming unbearable as you cleaned sand and other bits from the nasty wounds.

"Don't speak. Just... stay with me Din." He began to wrestle against you.

"Kriffing stop moving!" Din stills, his grasp a butterfly's touch on your hand as you pull it back. You needed both hands to administer the bacta shots. Another grunt followed the injection of the syringe, and you sighed in relief as you slowly watched the major wounds close together. Disposing of several wipes and bloodied rags, you turn back to face Din, who's out cold on the floor.

"What would you do without me." You muttered before completely striping him of his armour and weapons. It was a terrible idea to drag him up the ramp of the Razor Crest when he had stumbled outside, and you doubted you could do it again.

With what little strength you had, you pressed him against a makeshift bed. Soft blankets and pillows surrounded him as you tucked him in. He would need all his energy back once he woke up, no doubt wanting to jump straight back to Nevarro to collect the credits.

You sat by his side, smiling softly as you grasped his hand. At least he had come back to you in one piece. He was lucky that he had made it to the Crest, or you would've had no idea where he was.

A soft mumble escaped the modulator as Din slowly sat up, his body swaying from the sudden motion.

"Hey. Take it easy." You mutter, letting him lean his weight against your smaller form.

"How you feelin?" You ask, eyes shining with worry as Din blankly stared at you, his helmet tilting further to the side the longer he stared.

"You look fam-familiar." He slurred, wrapping his arm around your waist.

"Mhm. I am your only other crewmate. Been together for around a year." There was a moment of silence before his usually stoic and sarcastic voice had shifted to something akin to a love sick puppy.

"You look so pr-pretty mesh'la." You lay him back down with ease, squeezing his hand that was clutched to your side as you laid it down beside him.

"Is that the bacta talkin to me Din?" You tease, watching as he struggles to take off his helmet. With gentle hands, you release the Mandalorian from his beskar prison. His eyes were hazy as he stared off into the distance before looking back at you.

"You should get some rest. Sleep here. I'll be right beside you." He shoves you away with what little strength he had left in his muscles, but even wounded and delirious, he was still strong enough to push you back.

"S-Stop. I have a riduuuur." He drew out the foreign word, and you peck another kiss to his cheek. His face scrunched up as he pouted, his eyes glistening.

"I won't cheat on my riduur. Even if you look as pretty as them." A wide grin splashes over your face as you brush his messy hair out of his face.

"You think I'm pretty?" Din groans, trying to roll onto his side so he didn't have to look at you. But after the fourth attempt he huffed before flopping down on the soft blankets.

"The-The prettiest." Din nodded, his eyes roaming the features of your face as it came in and out of focus.

"Come on Din, go back to sleep." It took a few moments for the words to register in his brain before he was moaning in protest.

"Got to see my cyar'ika." His protests were firm as you sighed.

"Fine. I'll get them. Wait here." He diligently nodded his head as you disappeared from view. You chuckle to yourself. Din had always been so shy to flirt with you, but here he was, diligently keeping his promise to be with you forever. You exit the weapon lockers and smile happily as Din's face morphs into a goofy smile.

"Verd'ika!" He exclaimed, seeming to gain his strength in the short period of time you had pretended to get yourself. You coo at him as he embraces you in a clumsy hug.

"I've missed you. You so... so good to me." Din began to slowly tear up, and you gently rubbed his back as he began to sob into your shoulder. Despite being vulnerable and high as an X-Wing in the clouds, he still had a possessive grip.

"Mi-Missed you. Haven't seen you in y-years!" His words were choked and lazily pronounced.

"Love you too Din. Glad you came back to me." Din's cries began to recede as he pressed harsh kisses against the side of your neck.

"Din!" You scold, pushing him back. He gives you the sweetest puppy eyes, chocolate brown swirling at you.

"Cyare..." You roll your eyes, helping the warrior to his feet.

"You can get all the lovin' once you get cleaned up and back to our bunk." His weight wasn't as harsh in the beginning, and you were able to help him stumble his way over towards the refresher attached to the shared bunk.

Deeply inhaling the soap bar, Din gives you the softest smile.

"Aloan roses." He identifies, and you give him a small pat on the back in praise. "Come on you tin head. Let's get you cleaned up." He didn't hesitate to strip down, bare as the day he was born. Din gave you a cocky smile,

"Like what you see?" "Yeah I do. But first get clean. So I can admire you better than under all those layers of sand."

It was a hassel getting him cleaned up. He was distracting and happily pressing your body into the stream of warm water, effectively soaking you to the bone. But you couldn't be too mad. His delighted expression was too sweet for you to be mad.

Finally getting the two of you in dry clothing, you snuggled up besides Din as he pressed against you.

"Love you mesh'la." You giggle, gently brushing your finger against the curve of his jaw.

"Love you too Din."

There was another moment of silence before... "You wanna hear a joke." You wack him on his side. He had done this before. When the two of you were crunched on time to rest before bounding straight into another fight. And it had both annoyed you and sent you into a fit of chuckles when he tried to break the ice. It was endearing how he had tried to cheer you up that night. You were really grumpy, and in your defense Din drank the rest of the caf that morning.

"Go to sleep Din." There was a huff of protest before he pressed his face against the smooth skin of your neck and inhaled.

Din smiled to himself as he fell asleep. You smelled like home. His home.

okay but, 

imagine your on the Crest, laying in Dins bed, having the worst period cramps. Your surrounded by his scent, the pillows, the blankets-everything smells like him. Grogu watched you from his nest above Din’s bed, with a worried expression before crying out, getting Din’s attention. 

You could hear his clanky footsteps scurrying your way, groaning at the thought of having to interact with this, grogeous man. The door opens, “Is everything okay? I heard Grogu crying” Grogu turned his head at the mention of his name, and pointed to you. 

Maker, you were still getting used to his unmodulated voice. So sweet and silky, and his face- it was perfect. With his whiskey brown eyes, fluffy hair, and beard you fantasized being betweem your legs-no! Stop this, it’s not like you could do anything about it considering your predicament. 

You were brought out of your daze by a hand on your forehead. “Yeah, it seems you’ve got a fever sweetheart.” Din said with a frown. He was feeling your cheeks and neck to feel the temprature difference, You could hear him talking and Grgu’s babble but-you were to distracted by his hands. Those hands that could reach depthes inside you that no other human has reached. Hands that could, grab, and squeeze and-

“Cy’rika? Are you okay?” You shook your head out, meeting his eyes. He didn’t say anything, just took Grogu out and walked away for a moment. For that you were thankful, he was making it very hard to breathe. You needed to get yourself under control, he doesn’t like you like that, even if he did, there was nothing you could do about it. You didn’t get to think anymore before another painful cramp hit you, and Din had walked back over. 

“hey I put the kid back in his-ad’ika? What happened are you okay?” He asks as he see’s you, fetal position, groaning in pain. 

“Yeah Din I’m-goooooods-I’m fine just some cramps is all.” You could see his head tilt, in that adorable, confused puppy look.  “Oh well uh-is there anything I could do to help?” You laughed. “yeah, you could get me pregnant and then I wouldn’t have to deal with this for 9 months.” You said in a joking tone. You knew he would never go for it, I mean, you? Having a family with that-god of a man? No, that would never-

“Okay” You abruptly sat up. “What?” 

“Okay” You were puzzled. 

“Okay what Din?”

“Okay, I’ll put a baby in you.”

oh fuck.

you weren’t mine to lose Masterlist

Summary: Din Djarin is an honorable man.  He will not take what is not his. 

Pairings: Din Djarin x Female reader

Warnings: M, cursing, canonical type violence, implied smut. Eventual smut. Will change rating accordingly. 

Notes: A  grouping of one shots centered around Taylor Swift’s Folklore and Evermore albums.

cancelled my plans just in case you called

been saying yes instead of no

that’s the thing about illicit affairs

she would have made such a lovely bride

faith forgotten land

(Idk why I thought this but I think it’s funny) Imagine din and reader going back to visit Karga for a job and reader is a apparent heart throb to most of the villagers (not that she knows) and like “hi mrs. Parker” Friday style, these women are see them walking by going “hi Reader~” with cara teasing of reader the whole time having to tell the ladies that reader is already taken with din.

A/N: you are my very first  request, so i decided to do a full, bonifide one shot! thank you so very much!! 🥰💕💕

oddly enough, din doesn’t show his bucket in this until the very end. 💀 it became really cara-centric for some reason. hope that’s okay! 😖

also, the trope of “everyone collectively loves person, but person is so utterly oblivious to it” is, without fail, one of the funniest bits any piece of media can pull lmao.

hope you enjoy! 💗

content: references of sex (kinda), saucy language, gender neutral!reader (my first time writing a gn reader 😲), reader being completely “no thoughts head empty” type of oblivious, cara just brutally teasing reader, soft!din makes an appearance!, cara is also kinda a bisexual icon???

word count: 1,775

“... What do you mean?” 

Cara looks at you strange. She searches your face for a few seconds longer, eyebrows furrowed, trying to see if you’re serious. 

“Are you fucking with me?” She deadpans evenly, and you tilt your head slightly, blinking. You slowly shake your head, raising an eyebrow.

“No...?” You drag out the word and Cara barks a sudden, loud laugh at your genuine confusion, tossing back her head as she does. She straightens up in her seat, still chuckling lightly, and picks up her glass of spotchka. Cara leans against the backrest, draping her free arm over it.

“You’re really not fucking with me, huh?” She mutters with a grin, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a low, long sip, her eyes not leaving yours. You frown, puzzled.

“Cara, I have no ide—"

“Everyone wants to fuck you.” Cara interrupts and it takes a moment for the blunt, vulgar words to register, but when they do you feel heat rise in your cheeks. You visibly recoil, sputtering out an answer.

“I— What are— There's no—” All Cara does as you fumble over your words, getting more and more red in the face, is shrug, an easy grin on her face.

“Yeah, everyone wants to get in your pants, can’t say I blame ‘em.” Her grin turns downright predatory and it gives you the final push to spit out a reply.

“WHAT?” The word comes out incredulous and far louder that you had meant, causing you to cringe at the sound of your voice reverberating in the cantina. People glance over at you and you give the crowd a sheepish, nervous smile. Thankfully, everyone turns back to whatever they were doing, no questions asked. Then your head whips back to Cara, whose all smug-looking, to shoot her a glare. Your face is positively burning, and you just know she can see it.

“Are you fucking with me?” You throw her own question back at her, but it falls flat because all it does is grow the shit-eating grin that’s plastered on Cara’s face. She shrugs, gesturing around lazily to the room at large.

“Jax, the Rodian over there, gives you puppy dog eyes, Kol and Zaltor— the Trandoshans, not the Togrutas, by the way— look at your ass every time they get, that pink Twi’lek gal over there practically fawns over you— think her names’ Numa or Nima or something, the Duros over there...”

Cara continues listing off more and more names, and with each one (some who you know and have spoken to) you feel yourself getting more and more flustered. You sink low in your chair, staring wide eyed into your spotchka, hands on your temples.

“Good Maker.” You groan, placing your hands over your face and slumping onto the table. Cara (finally) stops listing literally the entire population of the village and gazes at you quizzically. She tilts her head.

“Don’t like being the sex idol of the town?” She teases and you groan again, louder this time. You glare up at her through your fingers, still furiously blushing. Oh, how you wish Din was here to beat the snot out of Miss Dune...

“No. This is a nightmare.” You growl out, going back to digging your face into the table, hoping the sandstone would just swallow you whole. Before Cara can reply, a new voice sounds up.

“U-Um, hi.” You stiffen and turn your head to the side to see two Twi’leks, one taller than the other, standing next to the table. They seem a bit nervous, fidgeting with their lekku and rocking on their feet, but something tells you they’re here for... something. The moment you meet Cara’s gaze, your face blanches.

“Kill me now.”

“Hey, pretty ladies.”

You groan and Cara flirts at the exact same time, Cara’s strong voice unfortunately gaining the upper hand. Both Twi’lek giggle, and the taller of the two, the lavender skinned one, flutters her eyelashes. Even more unfortunately, you make eye contact with her. She flushes when you meet her gaze.

“O-Oh my— Stars, um hi!” She and her companion devolve into giggles again and you force yourself to sit up. Giving them a forced smile, you rest your hands under your chin and elbows on the table.

“Hello. What can I do for you?” You ask through gritted teeth, attempting to keep your strained voice relatively nice, while also fighting back both the blush that’s still on your cheeks and the urge to shoot Cara with your blaster. Thankfully, the Twi’leks have gotten over the apparent “meeting their idol” giggles, because now the shorter one places a dusty tan hand on the table and leans in. A bright, stunning smile spreads across her face, but something flirty burns in her eyes.

“Mm. Me and my sister here have just been seeing you around so often.” She says, voice a obviously practiced mix of playfully coy and feigning ignorance. You glance from her, to her lavender sister, then to Cara. And your luck must really be in the gutters, or maybe Cara just wants to torture you—or both— but the mercenary only offers you a grin, lifts her spotchka to her lips, and sips. Your hands curl into fists.

“Yeah, I—” 

“You’re talking to Mando’s squeeze, babes.” Cara interrupts yet again and all three sets of eyes land on her. Two of them moon-eyed and incredulous if not also disappointed, one of them so embarrassed that Carasynthia Dune, you are a dead woman—

“Really?” The lavender Twi'lek’s eyes are so blown wide you almost think they’d roll out of her head. Her sister looks just as awestruck, and both look a tad bit fearful. You go to speak, but Cara (you’re really starting to hate her) opens her mouth again and beats you to the cut.

“Mm hm. Y’all are hitting on the Mando’s sweetheart. Pretty bold, honestly, he’s real protective over this one.” The blush you put all your hard work into smothering returns full force at Cara’s words, and the Twi’leks start looking a bit flustered themselves, though for another reason.

“So sorry!” The lavender one breaks first and goes running off to a Rodian and Zabrak sitting at a far table. She leans in close, seeming to whisper something into their ears, and suddenly all three of them are looking at you with a strange mix of disappointment, lust, and fear. You hastily look away and hide your face behind your hand.

“Aw. Shame.” The tan Twi’lek purses her lips, pushing herself off the table, and you begrudgingly force yourself to look at her. She gives you that stunning smile again and winks.

“You know I’m here for you.” She says and sashays off to where her sister is. Across the room, she gives you another wink and flutters her fingers. Pretty sure that all your bloods’ in your face, you turn to Cara, slowly.

“Cara.” You say her name lowly, looking her dead in the eye. She’s grinning, and blows a lock of her hair out of her face. She feigns an unassuming, innocent look, but both you and her know better.

“Yeah?” She’s walking on thin ice and she knows it, but you also know she’s never been afraid of risk.

“I’m going to kill you.” You say, coming across as deadly serious as you possibly can. Cara’s grin widens, her eyes twinkling, and she downs the last of her spotchka.

“I know,” She starts and she shrugs, “But you know I couldn’t resist.”

You want to reach over and smack her a good one, but a voice alerts you to a certain someone at your side.

“Hey.” Din’s low, modulated voice gentle pulls your attention to him and you turn your head to look up at your silver-clad lover. Even with the dark T-visor, you know exactly where to look to find those soft, doe eyes beneath it. A small smile creeps across your face.

“Hey.” You reply and he offers a hand to you, which you gladly accept. Like always, his hand is large and warm and strong, and it makes you feel completely at peace. Din helps you up to your feet, settling you close, but not too close, to his side. 

“I got the next few pucks, and the kid’s already in the Crest, so we’re ready to head out...” Din trails off and tilts his head, and you can feel his curious gaze roam your face. 

“Your face is... pretty flushed. Are you feeling okay?” He asks it so gently and sweetly, his gloved hand still holding yours, that it’s almost enough to make you forget why your all disheveled in the first place. Letting out a forced, somewhat breathy laugh, you pull your hand away to cross your arms over your chest.

“Um, yeah, yeah— I’m good.” You assure him, but Din knows you so he turns his attention on Cara, whose sprawl in her seat, looking like a satisfied loth cat.

“What did you do?” He asks, keeping his voice neutral, but there’s a hint of that good ol’ Din Protectiveness seeping in too. Part of you celebrates that Din’s finally here to beat up Cara, but all the other parts of you just want to hop on back the Razor Crest and get the Hell out of here. Cara lazily raises her hands in mock surrender, tilting her head into her shoulder.

“Just playing, that’s all.” She replies, eying your spotchka from across the table. She and Din are in some type of staring match even as she reaches and snags your drink. You don’t care enough to protest. Din stares at Cara for a few seconds longer before he shifts on his feet and turns back to you.

“Ready to go, cyare?” His voice is like warm like sunshine, and it makes your entire being light up. You nod and smile, uncrossing your arms to grab his hand. His thick fingers close around yours, encasing your hand in his.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” You reply as you both start walking, tethered to one another by the most sacred link you can while in public. Din and you walk side by side, a Mandalorian and his beloved, through the cantina and out the door.

Cara watches you leave, then looks around at all the inhabitants of the cantina who had also watched you and the Mando leave hand-in-hand. She nearly laughs at all the looks of disappointment. You really were the village heart throb.

And as Cara downs the last of her (your) spotchka, she ponders,

Dammit. Wish it was me instead of Mando.

Hey there! I hope your week goes a little better for you. I have a request! 🥺 Take your time of course! Could you write one for Mando where the reader asks to eat with him for the first time and the reader puts down some pillows on the floor and they sit back to back so he doesn’t break his creed? If you write it, thank you!!!! I hope you have a wonderful day ❤️

Enjoy some softness!

Din Djarin x Fem!Reader ; warnings: none

The Mandalorian Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Hey," you glanced over at the quiet, stoic Mandalorian. He seemed to snap back into attention as he tore his eyes from the blaster in his lap and looked back at you. You laughed lightly, a beautiful sound that he adored, before reaching over and squeezing his shoulder, "where'd you go, Mando?"

"I'm right here," he promised softly as you reached down and picked up the small green menace from the floor of the hull. You kissed his forehead as he cooed at you before you held him out to the Mandalorian. 

"Can you be trusted with babysitting duties for a little while? I need to go make dinner and can't focus on that and him," you booped his little nose, causing him to giggle before the Mandalorian gently pulled him into his arms, "he's particularly wild today."

"No rest for the wicked, little womp rat?" he asked softly as his adopted son gave him a look of pure innocence. He sighed in amusement before turning back to you, "do you want some help with anything?"

"I've got it handled easily if you two stay out of my way," you chuckled as you headed back to the small kitchen, "besides its my turn to make dinner. Keep out of trouble for an hour or so - both of you!"

"Positive?" you could practically hear the smile in his voice as you turned around and playfully raised an eyebrow at him.

"I don't trust you in the kitchen," you reminded him, "last time you started a small fire and burnt half the meal. I love you - but I don't trust you...in the kitchen anyways."

And it was so effortless. So effortless to say those words as though you'd always lived in domestic bliss with him. So effortless to say those three words that you meant but wouldn't dare to confess. But in the moment it was so easy and you didn't even think twice.

But it was not lost on Din who froze in place as he registered what you said. His mouth was open as his heart skipped a few beats as you walked away without a care in the world. 

Had you meant it? Was it true? Did you love him?

He wouldn't dare think about it, sure he wasn't ever worthy of such a thing. You were the light and goodness that was left in the galaxy, along with his son, but he'd  ever fancy himself blessed enough to be worthy of your light.

And yet…those words had come out of your mouth. You'd never said them to anyone else, at least not to his knowledge and he'd seen you around many people. Probably just a slip of the tongue...he couldn't think too much about it.

But oh...how those three little words made him feel. So light, so warm, and soft. Like he could see clearly and breath easily, a little bit of weight off his shoulders. No one had spoken those words to him since he was a child and his parents had worked to keep him safe and traded their lives for his. 

How those three little words, so easy and delicate, had made him light up. Maker, he hoped he'd be lucky enough to hear them again.

Din felt a light tugging on the sleeve of his shirt, causing him to look down at the little one. His big, inky eyes were wide with wonder as he almost seemed to know what Din was thinking - maybe he could.

"I know," Din said softly, so only the little one could hear, "I'll tell her eventually. One day. Maybe."

The little one cooed excitedly as his father sighed lightly, "you really think I should, huh? Do you think-"

"Mando?" you poked your head back in and found your boys staring at each other, "how hungry are we? Starving or…?"

"Starving," he agreed, swallowing the nervous look in his throat, as the child nodded, "apparently both of us."

"Great," you beamed at them, "I'll let you both know when its done."

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Are you just tired or did you eat too much too fast?" you laughed at the sight of your small adopted son, clutching onto his spoon tightly as his eyes kept closing with the lull of sleep.

Reaching over, you took the spoon and set it down before pulling him into your arms. He tried his best to wrap his arms around your neck failing to do so, but nonetheless snuggling into your chest as sleep easily overcame him.

"I'm going to go and put him down," you whispered quietly to the Mandalorian as you walked out of the small kitchen, "stay here, Shiny. I have a surprise for you."

"Okay," Din's voice practically caught in its throat at your playful nickname. It all came with such ease as you walked away and he felt his cheeks burning up.

Instinctively, Din got up and started to clean up, gathering all the dishes up and putting leftovers away. He liked this - the pure and simple domesticity of it all, and sometimes wished it would never end. Maybe one day, if he fancied himself brave enough and ever made a move, this could be his everyday - your every day.

"I told you to stay," you teased when you walked back in and found him at work. He turned and faced you, offering you a smile you couldn't seem but definitely felt, "and that didn't mean work!"

"I was just…" you quickly pulled the bowls out of his hands and then gently nudged him towards the hull. Huffing in amusement, he easily complied and did as you asked, "now go and sit and I'll be right there."

Your Mandalorian went out and stared in amusement at the floor. Two large cushions were in the center of the room and a few candles had been light, casting a soft glow around the space. He looked around, confused as if this was some sort of joke before you rejoined him, a full tray of food in your arms.

"I-I had an idea and if I'm totally off the mark or whatever, tell me," you stammered, almost nervous now as you set it down the floor and plopped onto one of the cushions, "we always eat together - well the little one and I do and I thought maybe this way you could eat with us too. At least me right now. We'll sit back to back and you can take your helmet off and I swear on all the stars in all the galaxies I won't try and sneak a peek. What do you think, Mando?"

And then he stilled completely. Your words washed over him like a wave, causing a flurry of emotions he hadn’t experienced in...possibly ever. It was such a simple act, but so kind, so thoughtful. And it seemed like it was the easiest thing again. Unable to probably form words, as they kept getting caught in his throat, he nodded slightly before sinking down and sitting on the soft cushion, his back against yours. 

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, soaking in the moment before Din finally moved again. Awkwardly clearing his throat, he reached his hand to the side, right next to where yours was resting. Inching yours closer, you hesitated for a moment before delicately placing your hand on top of his, noting the soft feel of his skin without the gloves before squeezing lightly. His thumb stroked the back of your hand before he almost whispered, “Din. My name is Din.”

“Din,” you repeated, instantly deciding you liked the name and that it suited him perfectly, “I love it. Do you have a last name Din? You already know mine, so I suppose it’s only fair! But I understand too, if you don’t want to tell me…”

“You’re right, sweet girl,” he chuckled lightly, trying not to completely lose his mind at how beautiful his name sounded coming off your lips. No one had spoken it since he was just a child; this was a big moment and the two of you both knew that, “Din. Din Djarin.”

“Din Djarin,” you repeated softly, letting it linger on your tongue and savoring the sweetness, “it’s nice to meet you Din Djarin.”

“Sweet girl,” he gave your hand a tight squeeze, curling his fingers around yours before linking them together, “I...thank you. It’s been...it’s been so long. I thought I might end up taking that to the grave without ever telling another soul.”

“You never have to hide anything from me,” you promised gently, “whatever you want to share with me - I’ll be here.”

“I know,” he whispered gently, a smile tugging on his features, “you...thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” you insisted, meaning every word, “now go on and eat. I bet you’re starving.”

“Will you eat with me?” you nodded in response, knowing he could feel the gentle movement of your head against his. Swallowing the lump of emotion that had welled up in his throat, he let go of your hand and slowly reached up to remove his helmet. Pausing for a moment, he appreciated the gravitas of what he was doing, before slowly lifting the Beskar off of his head and setting it down next to the two of you with a dull clink. 

You grabbed a bowl of soup for yourself, followed by a spoon before nudging the tray over to him. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him reaching for it, and despite wanting to steal a glance, you kept your gaze trained straight ahead. You wouldn’t dare break his trust; especially not after he just shared such an intimate part of himself with you. If it was meant to happen, it would happen all in its own time. But for now, this was good, this was everything. 

Din held his bowl tightly, his body practically vibrating with warm, excited energy as he ate the soup you had made for your little clan of three. You rested against him, the warmth of his body spilling onto you as you laughed lightly.  

“Hmm?” he asked, unable to contain his own chuckle as he felt more relaxed and at peace than he had in a long time, “alright?”

“Yes,” you sighed contentedly, “everything's perfect. I like this - the quiet moments. The ones where we can let our guards down and not worry about anything. I hope...I hope we can have more of them.”

“Me too,” he agreed, putting down his own bowl as he rested his hand on yours again, “can I...do you promise not to look?”

“I would never dare to, without your permission.”

“Close your eyes sweet girl,” he whispered softly as you readily agreed and squeezed your eyes shut. He turned his head slightly, pulling away from you before leaning and pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. Your breath hitched in your throat as you realized what he had done, and it caused a shiver of delight to run up your whole body. He had kissed you!

“Din-”

“I hope that wasn’t out of turn...I-I’m sorry if it was,” he suddenly felt nervous as though he had done the completely wrong thing, but your gentle touch on his arm was enough to tell him it was okay. 

“No,” you insisted quickly, “I...I liked it. I’ve thought about that probably more than I should have. Do you trust me, Din?”

“Yes,” his voice was quiet as you made sure your eyes were tightly shut before turning around to face him, motioning for him to do the same. He was nervous for a moment, but he knew you better than to think you would betray his trust. He grinned from ear to ear as he looked at you, studying your face intently with his own eyes for the first time. Was it possible for you to be even more gorgeous? Because he was sure you were. 

Reaching up blindly, your hands easily found his face, and you let your fingers trace over his features, getting to know him, like it was the first time. In some ways, it really was. He keened into your delicate touch, and you just knew he was handsome; everything about him was. 

“Curls,” you ran a hand through his locks as you felt him nod, “let me guess - dark brown? Brown eyes?”

“Yes….how did you know?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged lightly, “I just know. May I..may I kiss you, Din Djarin?”

“Yes.”

And so you did. You kissed him like it was the first and last time, but you hoped it was the first of many. So did he. 

When you slowly pulled back, he pressed his forehead against yours and sneaked one last kiss. 

“Come on,” you grinned against his lips, “eat now - before you starve to death!”

And it happened just like that. So easy. So effortless. 

So perfect. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

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In My Head

summary: The thought of Din plagues your mind—and it won’t be long until it’s forced onto your lips.

note: “Streets” by Doja Cat. That is all.

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x gn!reader

warnings: angst, fluff, a ~hint~ of spice, a classic cliché is used

rating: M

word count: 3.406k

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“… lodging.”

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Too little too late (6/?)

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x reader, (ex)Steve Rogers x reader

Plot: Steve has a tough conversation with Bucky.

Catch up here

My work

Requests are open

Prompt list one

Prompt list two

Character/Actor list

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reminder to:

straighten your back

go pee goddAMN IT STOP HOLDING IT

go take your meds if you need to

drink some water

go get a snack if you havent eaten in a while

maybe wander around the house/stretch a little if you’ve been sat at the computer a while (artists especially: sTRETCH THOSE WRISTS)

reply to that text/message from earlier you’d forgotten about

maybe send a nice lil message to someone having a bad day?

Hi if anyone thinks racism or transphobia (or literally ANY kind or prejudice or discrimination) is okay get the fuck off my blog.

Britney Spears Tells Judge “I’m So Angry It’s Insane” in Conservatorship Hearing

“A lot has happened since two years ago, the last time I was in court,” Spears said. “I don’t think I was heard on any level when I came to court last time.”

She then continued to detail that she was forced to do a 2018 tour, and forced to change her medication, among a long list of other grievances she said made her feel like a slave. “Not only did my family not do a goddamn thing, my dad was all for it,” said Spears.

“I’ve lied and told the whole world I’m okay and I’m happy,” Spears said, explaining that she was in denial. “If I said that enough, maybe I’d become happy. … I’m in shock. I’m traumatized. … I’m so angry it’s insane.”

Spears said she didn’t know she could petition to end the conservatorship, and that she was told she’d have to be evaluated again in order to do that.

“I’m scared of people. I don’t trust people with what I’ve been through,” says Spears of the idea of seeing another psychiatric specialist. “It’s not okay to force me to do anything I don’t want to do. … I truly believe this conservatorship is abusive. I don’t feel like I can live a full life.”

Spears says she wants to get married and have a baby, but she has an IUD and she can’t get permission to go to a doctor to have it taken out. She wants her boyfriend, actor Sam Asghari, to be able to drive her around town, and to dial back the amount of therapy she has to undergo each week. Spears also wants the therapist to come to her home, so that paparazzi can’t stake out the person’s office to take photos of her.

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. 

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For your 100 follower requests: "More please" first kiss scenario with Tovar or Whiskey. WRITER'S CHOICE.

Alright this turned into something way bigger than I had planned. This sits at 2.7k. Don't ask me where the actual idea came from, I have no idea.

Also, I want you to know, I wrote the ENTIRE SCENE with the goats and then went "...I should make sure she likes goats."

Jack Daniels x f!reader. Meet cute at a county fair. No warnings, this is all cute fluff with kissing.

Without further ado, I present to you:

She Moves Through the Fair

You were standing off to the side of the crowds, by the animal housing. Your friend was 20 minutes late so far, which wasn’t like her. You’d texted her ten minutes ago to check in.

Finally, your phone buzzed.

Hey so sorry I forgot we were supposed to go today I can’t make it

You groaned out loud at that. Great. So now you were on your own at the county fair. You’d already paid the entrance fee, so you might as well stay now. This was not how you’d expected your day to go.

“Everything alright?”

You jumped, turning towards the voice. A man had come up behind you, hands stuck in the pockets of his jeans. He was wearing a black Stetson. Your lips twitched against your will.

“I’m fine,” you told him. “Just a change of plans, is all.”

“You need any help?” The man offered you a little smile, brown eyes warm.

“No, thank you. I think I’m going to go pet some goats and… figure something out.” You shrugged.

His eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Figure something out? Are you here alone?”

“Yes,” you answered reluctantly.

“Well, I’d say I’m sorry, but this means I get a chance to escort a pretty lady today.” He smiled at you. “My own company found someone else to run around with, so I seem to be unattached for the day.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. He didn’t flinch, just waiting patiently. Well, he was handsome, that was for sure. Seemed to have manners. And if needed, you could definitely get away from him – this was a county fair, not a private event. There was security around. And if you kicked up a fuss, you’d get bystander support.

“Sure,” you agreed. “Why not. You might get bored, though.”

“I’ll be bored on my own, so if that happens, at least I’ll be bored in lovely company.” He winked at you, almost over the top, and smiled when you giggled. “I’m Jack, by the way.”

You gave him your name and shook his hand, amused.

“I believe you said something about goats?” Jack grinned at you, motioning you to go first. You nodded and headed for the nearest animal housing area, perking up a bit. Sheep over here. That was fine. You patted every sheep that came up to the fence, saying hi to each one. Jack kept pace with you and, to your surprise, he also chatted easily with the sheep. Mostly he snuck sly little comments about the “beautiful lady” he was with, making you grin every time.

“You’re quite a flirt,” you told him once the two of you finally reached the goats. “I think these guys will appreciate it more than the sheep, though.”

Jack threw his head back and laughed at that, bright and full-bellied. “You think so, huh?”

“Well, the goats are more active, usually,” you pointed out, as one headbutted your hand for attention. “Although if I were you I’d save the sweet talking for the pygmy goats, those things are too damn cute.”

“Favorites of yours, I take it?” Jack asked, leaning down a bit to pet a lazy goat who bleated at him without actually getting up.

“If I could, I would have like three of those,” you told him. “They’re so cute. And they’re a more manageable size than regular goats.”

“Looks like there’s some pygmies up there,” Jack pointed out, nodding to the end of the row.

“Don’t rush me, I’m getting there,” you shot back playfully. Jack just chuckled at you. “So, what brought you here today? You said you got ditched?”

“Promised a friend I’d come,” Jack told you with an easy shrug. “He wanted some help picking something out. ‘Course, soon as we’d done that, he got a call from another buddy of his and abandoned me to meet up with that group.” He shot you a flirty smile. “My gain, though.”

You chuckled. “Well, I dunno about that,” you murmured.

“I do.”

You felt your cheeks heat with blood and you ducked your head, momentarily flustered by his outright flirting. Then you smiled. “Well, we’ve got the rest of the day,” you pointed out. “I have no plans.”

“No?” Jack smiled. “Let’s see if I can’t change that.” He stepped around you, getting ahead of you, and winked before he sauntered off to the end of the row to the pygmy goats. He started chatting with an older gentleman on the other side of the fence, nodding back your direction once. You kept half your attention on him, curious what he was doing. But not quite curious enough to go butt in on the conversation. Instead you kept going down the row, petting goats.

At least until Jack trotted back over to you, looking smug as the cat that ate the canary. “Come on,” he told you, holding out a hand to you.

“What?”

“Come on!” Jack smiled, beckoning you again. You took his hand, and he promptly tugged you along over to the pygmy goats. The gentleman behind the fence opened up a section of fencing for you, ushering you both inside, and then efficiently herded you both into the pen with the pygmy goats.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, eyes huge. There were five goats and three kids. The kids were teeny tiny, and promptly ran over to investigate the two of you.

“Sit,” Jack encouraged you. “They’ll nibble a bit, so watch your stuff.” He gently pushed one kid away from nibbling on the hem of his jeans.

You sat, eyes still huge, and let the kids and the mamas sniff you and climb on you. They were adorable and friendly, and you were having a blast. Definitely needed to get like three of these little guys. Someday.

“How did you…?” You finally asked Jack several minutes later, after the kids had worn themselves out a bit. One of them had fallen asleep with its head on your foot, and you were loathe to move.

“Just had a friendly chat,” Jack told you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“You’re incredible,” you told him with a blinding smile. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

Jack’s smile turned a little softer, almost shy. “Well, why not?” he countered. “You got stood up, looks like, might as well make the best of your day now.”

You had no words for that, so you just smiled helplessly at him and scratched one of the mama goats when she wandered over to you.

You could have happily stayed there all day, but you did eventually get up. Mostly because your stomach was rumbling, and Jack insisted the two of you eat. So you got up, said goodbye to the goats (and thanked the owner), and made your way outside to a hand washing station.

“Bright,” you grumbled as soon as you were outside, squinting. “It was not this bright earlier.”

“You didn’t bring a hat?” Jack asked, tutting at you.

“Forgot it,” you admitted. You looked at him, reached up, and stole his hat, plonking it on your head with a cheeky grin. “This’ll work.”

Jack’s jaw dropped for a moment, and then he swallowed hard, looking you up and down. “Looks good on you,” he croaked.

“Thanks.” You flashed him a grin and reached out for his hand. “Food’s this way, come on.” He followed behind you easily, letting you lead the way.

The food area was, as usual, crowded and large. There were at least a dozen different vendors, all with different types of food, everything from pizza and hot dogs to turkey legs to gyros.

“What are you in the mood for?” you asked Jack, stepping out of the way and scanning the different offerings. “And if you say anything with fried dough before lunch, I’m walking away.”

Jack laughed at that, slinging an easy arm around your shoulders. You didn’t flinch at the touch, a little surprised at yourself. “Nah, I’m pretty easy to please. I usually go for a hot dog, or a sausage to start.” He winked at you, and you choked and spluttered for a moment.

“Go, I’ll meet you at a table,” you told him, waving him on. He hesitated for only a moment before he nodded, releasing you and striding off to get in line. You took a few moments to admire the view as he walked away. Mmm. Those jeans did great things for him from this angle. (From any angle, really, if you were being honest with yourself.)

You did tear your gaze away from him so you could trot off to get in line for your own food. Fortunately, things went quickly, and by the time you had your food and turned to look for Jack, he was flagging you down from an empty table. A smile stretched your lips – he was squinting at you. You still had his hat on. Your heart fluttered, just a little.

“You can have it back, if you want,” you told him, touching two fingers to the brim of his hat as you sat down next to him.

Jack smiled, slow and sweet as molasses. “Nah,” he said. “Looks good on you. Keep it.”

You returned the smile, and the two of you settled in to eat lunch. You finally learned a bit more about him – he worked at a distillery. Not one you’d heard of, though you absolutely did not claim to be a connoisseur of whiskey. In return, you told him a bit about your own job, and the friend who’d cancelled on you today.

“We come once a year,” you told him as the two of you cleaned up. “Well. She sometimes comes more often, but the two of us always come. We usually do a bit of early holiday shopping. Eat junk food. Stuff like that.”

“Well, we’ve eaten some junk food,” Jack said, glancing at your empty plates. “We’ll get to more of that later. Haven’t done any shopping, though.”

“I’m not dragging you through the vendor buildings,” you protested.

“Who says you’ll be dragging me, darlin’?” Jack shot back with an easy grin. “I’ll tell you if I get bored, promise. Now c’mon.” He grabbed your hand, towing you along with him. The crowds parted easily for him, and you couldn’t help a little huff of jealousy. Of course he’d get from point A to point B without being elbowed half a dozen times.

To your surprise, Jack was just as enthusiastic about shopping as your friend was. He had an eye for quality, charmed the vendors into giving you better deals, and ended up with multiple purchases of his own. He stopped and bought beef jerky in a variety of flavors. He sampled local honey with you. He even somehow ended up in a half hour discussion with a local vintner talking about barrels, of all things. That one you mostly just watched, perplexed, only half following the conversation. Watching Jack was far more interesting, anyway. He was a social chameleon, able to fit in at any and every booth he stopped at. Honestly, it was fascinating to watch.

Jack carried half of your bags for you, ignoring your protests, until you huffed and gave in.

The two of you zig-zagged back and forth through the vendor buildings for a solid few hours, until you cried mercy and Jack insisted on a snack break. He parked you at a quiet out of the way table, away from the main hustle and bustle of the fair, and vanished with promises to return with sustenance. You sat backwards on the bench so you could lean back against the edge of the table, smiling. Your day had certainly turned out much better than you would have guessed.

Jack came striding back with a funnel cake, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“I haven’t had one of these in years,” you told him, amused as you took one of the forks.

“It is a fair,” he told you with a wink. “Haveta get something fried here, darlin’.”

“Fair enough.” You smiled at him, sitting closer than was strictly necessary on the bench to share the funnel cake with him. The quiet was easy between the two of you, comfortable and relaxed. The fair noises were a little quieter here, and nobody even passed by your table.

“You’ve got a little somethin’,” Jack said, pointing to his own cheek to demonstrate. You swiped at your cheek, and he shook his head. “Nope, still there.” After watching you wipe your cheek again, he chuckled. “May I?”

“Okay,” you agreed, heart tripping and then slamming into double time. Jack reached over slowly, giving you plenty of time to move, and his thumb swiped across your cheek, then again. You leaned into the touch, and his hand cupped your cheek instead.

“Can I kiss you, darlin’?” he asked, voice low and quiet.

“Yes.”

Jack leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. His moustache tickled a little, making you smile into the kiss. His hand was warm against your cheek as he held you there, pulling back a little.

“More, please,” you murmured, still smiling at him.

“With pleasure.” Jack kissed you again, a series of gentle kisses that slowly became less chaste until he finally pulled back. Your eyes fluttered open – when had you closed them? Jack was smiling, his thumb sweeping across your cheek again.

“I think we can safely say you rescued the day,” you murmured, smiling.

“It’s my pleasure, darlin’,” Jack assured you. He kissed you one more time, apparently unable to resist, and then sat back. “What else is on your agenda for the day?”

You pulled out your phone for the first time in hours to check the time and make sure you hadn’t missed any actually important messages. Nothing important. And it was getting later than you’d realized.

“I should probably head home soon,” you said regretfully. “I don’t usually stay for the music stuff. Too loud.”

“I understand.” Jack smiled. “Well, then, darlin’, you say the word and I’ll help you to your car.”

“You don’t have to,” you protested, already knowing it was useless and unable to hide your smile.

“I insist,” Jack told you with a grin of his own. “My mama’d box me ‘round the ears if I didn’t.”

You giggled at that and shook your head. “Come on, one more walk down the main road, just in case anything catches our attention.”

The two of you stood, Jack once again stealing most of the bags (although you had to admit he had them stacked and set inside each other to make things easier), and then you were off. You were at the far end of the fair, so you had a nice stroll towards the front. It was just about the point at which the type of crowd changed – the families with children were leaving, and the teenagers and young adults were starting to swarm in for the musician of the night.

Honestly, you were loathe for the night to end, but you needed to get home.

“Thank you for today,” you told Jack as the two of you walked back to your car. “Really.”

“It was my pleasure, darlin’,” Jack told you. He set down your bags in your car and then boxed you in against the side of your car, tipping his hat (which was still on your head) up so he could kiss you again. And again. And again. Finally he stepped back, lips shining and red, eyes dark. “I’ll see you again soon, darlin’.”

“Your hat,” you started.

“I’ll get it next time.” Jack gave you one last lingering kiss before he took two big steps backwards. “Go on home. Check your bags. We’ll talk soon.” He winked you and turned, walking away.

It took every ounce of willpower you had not to either go after him or immediately dig through your bags to find out what he was talking about. Instead you drove home as calmly as you could, the hat placed safely on the passenger seat. As soon as you were parked, you were gathering up the bags and the hat and bolting inside to find whatever he had left you.

A small bag that you didn’t recognize was tucked into one of the bigger bags. Inside was a pair of earrings you had talked yourself out of buying, citing that they were out of your price range, and a business card. The business card had two numbers: office and cell. Jack Daniels. The simple note written on it made your heart soar.

Call me anytime, darlin’. I’ll see you soon.

--

Tags: @fandom-blackhole @pedrocentric @beskarprincessjenny @sarahjkl82-blog @cannedsoupsucks @liviiii98 @adriiibell @seasonschange-butpeopledont @princessxkenobi @thirddeadlysin @pbeatriz @oonajaeadira @kiizhikehn-cedar @green-socks

I dunno how to do this lol but I'm gonna post a link to a petition to try and keep Disney from trademarking Loki and other norse gods because they aren't simply trying to trademark the MCU versions but also the names for the actual Norse Gods versions as well and...as a Norse Pagan it isn't sitting well with me lol so if you'd like to sign that'd be cool.

Change.org

Sign the Petition

Stop Disney Trademarking The Names of Norse Gods

and if you turn to ur left you’ll see the emos

La Belle et La Bete

Ghost!Ezra Prospect x F!Reader

Word Count: 5.7k 

Warnings: angst, mentions of death/poisoning, enemies to lovers, AU, cursing, brief mentions of NSFW, angst with a semi-happy ending, crying, lots of fluff

Summary: You’d been able to see ghosts for the entirety of your life, but the last thing you ever expected was to fall for one.

Beautiful ghost!Ezra fanart by @honestly-shite

You don’t remember when you began seeing the specters in your day to day life, believing them to be just oddly dressed people up until a certain point. You remember the day you realized that the people you saw were not living, however. You had pointed at a rather odd looking man in a top hat that towered over you, exclaiming to your mom about the funny hat. The man had smiled at you and given you a little wink, but your mother had gawked at you like you were the one with a two foot tall hat perched on your head. It became quickly apparent that you possessed a gift that those around you did not; a gift that you would have to keep a secret unless you had a wish to spend the rest of your days in an asylum.

They were everywhere, and the only way you could truly set them apart was the slight translucent quality to their skin and their often time-inappropriate clothing. As you grew older you realized that it was not, in fact, normal for adults to walk around in Victorian era garments, and for young men to be adorned in shiny metal armor.

Keep reading

My advice to people, but especially kids, who are invested in celebrities, be they actors, musicians, bloggers, youtubers, authors, whatever, is to keep your distance. No matter how happy their content makes you, no matter how strong the pull of a special interest/hyperfixation/obsession might be, it’s important to step back every so often.

Do you find yourself following them on all forms of social media? Do you follow their friends and family, who might not even make content themselves? Do you research their lives? Step back. Just because they are famous doesn’t mean it’s okay to engage in stalking behavior.

Do you find yourself getting anxious if you miss a video, or they upload off schedule? Step back. I know they can help you through dark times but you can’t rely on them all the time.

Would you be devastated if they turned out to be a not-so-nice person? Step back. You can only trust them as much as you trust any stranger. Don’t see yourself up to be shattered if they fall off that pedestal you put them on.

No matter how much somebody interacts with their audience, the relationship is still parasocial. Just keep that in mind. Don’t put all your trust in a stranger. It’s okay to enjoy these people and their content, but keep your distance and step back.

JUST LETTING Y'ALL KNOW WHERE THIS BLOG STANDS.

Which pan flag is the right one please I don't want to mess it up

THIS is the real pansexual flag we've been using for years:

bright pink, yellow, and blue stripes. this is the actual one.

THIS however, is made by mspec lesbian exclusionists and purity culture obsessed twt users:

dont use this or any other "new" pan flag they try to fucking make. its not our flag. its never been our fucking flag. as a pansexual i fucking hate everyone who uses this or tries to get content creators to support this. fuck exclusionists.

What happens once you kill yourself? Because I'm ready to go.

You wanna know what happens once you kill yourself? Your mother comes home from work and finds her baby dead and she screams and runs over to you and tries to get you to wake up but you won’t and she keeps screaming and shaking you and her tears are dripping onto your face and your dad hears all the screaming and runs into the room and he can’t even speak because the child that he loved and the child that he watched grow up is gone forever and finally your little sister runs into the room to see what all the fuss is about and she sees you dead. The person she looked up to and loved. The person she bragged about to  her friends, the person she wanted to be just like when she grew up, the person that made her feel safe. But she’s never really going to get to grow up and smile and laugh and love because she’ll always be consumed with this feeling of missing you. And now there’s something missing from your family and they can barely look at each other anymore because everything reminds them of you but you’re gone and hurts more than anything. and you think that your mom never cared because she was always busy and yelling at you to finish your homework and clean your room and forgot to say I love you sometimes but really, she loved you more than anything and she doesn’t leave the house anymore, she can’t even get out of bed and she’s getting thinner and thinner because it’s too hard to eat. Your father had to quit his job and he doesn’t sleep anymore, every time he closes his eyes he sees his baby dead, and the image never goes away no matter how much alcohol he drinks. And at school your best friend sees that your seat is empty and she gets this sick feeling in her stomach and that’s when she hears the announcement. You killed yourself. And suddenly she’s screaming and crying in the middle of class and no one even bothers comforting because they’re all  busy sitting there staring at your empty seat with tears dripping down their cheeks and all she wants is for you to hug her and tell her it’s gonna be okay like you always did, but this time, you’re not there to do it, everything is dark now that you’re gone and her grades are slipping, she barely goes to school anymore and she ended up in hospital after taking too many pills because she wanted to see you again. the girls who used to make fun of the way you dressed feel their throats get tight, they don’t talk to each other anymore, they don’t talk to anyone, they’re all in therapy trying so hard not to blame themselves but nothing works. and your teacher who always gave you a hard time stares blankly at the wall, she quits her job a few days later. And then your boyfriend hears the news and he can’t breathe, he still calls you a lot just to hear your voice and he talks to you on facebook but you never message him back, he can’t fall in love again because every girl he meets reminds him of you, he’s never going to get over you, he loved you and he cries himself to sleep every night, hating himself and slicing his skin because he couldn’t save you and he’s never going to hold you in his arms or hear you laugh again. Now everyone who knew you, whether they were a big part of your life or someone you passed in the hallway a few times a week, they carry this aching feeling around inside them because you’re gone, and they miss you, and they don’t know why you left but it must’ve been their fault and they should’ve stopped you and they should’ve told you they loved you more and that feeling is never going to go away. And so you killed yourself

but you killed everyone else around you too. 

Reblog if you are bisexual, pansexual, or asexual, if you support bisexuals, pansexuals, and asexuals, or

There’s no third, funny option, just the first two because it’s good to just support people because they deserve support.

@ porn blogs who keep following me