Hello!!!
So @pedrosasscal and I were gushing over the one and only Boba Fett! And we were talking fic ideas and I had a wonderful Idea that I thought I'd share with all of you to show you my writing. It's a small snippet that I wrote quickly but I thought it was okay.
Now by no means was this revised or edited at all. I can ask you to be nice about it but I can't make you do anything.
If you have enjoyed it thank you so much!
If not that's okay too!
Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader
Word count: 1.2k
Warnings: cursing, friends with benefits, reunited best friends, general fluffiness, allusions to sex
Rating: M
Summary: Frankie and you have reunited after losing touch for years. Fresh off of his divorce you propose a friends with benefits situation which he accepts. The problem is you’re still very much in love with him, but you want him to enjoy his single life after being married for so long.
A/N: In which a person who doesn’t know how to write gets stuck with the thought of dancing with Frankie in the kitchen and writes it. 😅 I saw a tik tok of a couple dancing to Cry to Me by Solomon Burke this morning and this happened. It was supposed to be 500 words, but here we are at over 1,000+. Had no plan for this one, just me churning out nonsense as I went.
AO3
Frankie and you were inseparable growing up having been present for both of your trials of life; his going into the army and you taking the plunge into starting an Etsy business after high school. Your friends defined the two of you as a living definition of bad timing. He had a high school sweetheart that he ended marrying shortly after coming back home from the army. You would have been happy for him if you weren’t so in love with him and it got hard to be around him which is why you had drifted apart.
The next time you saw each other was shortly after his divorce from his wife and you could see how raw it still was for him. You spent the whole night catching up on old memories, delicately skipping over the topic of his ex-wife, and new things going on in your life. That was also the night you had your first kiss, but considering how fresh his divorce was you didn’t want him to jump into another relationship. That’s when you had proposed friends with benefits as a solution. It gave him time to figure things out and you wanted him to be able to enjoy his single life after being married for so long. You didn’t want to be the rebound and you both still got what you wanted out of each other.
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reblog and make a wish! this was removed from tumbrl due to “violating one or more of Tumblr’s Community Guidelines”, but since my wish came true the first time, I’m putting it back. :)
Had a long talk with a friend about tumblr after going on hiatus. I didn't actually know if I'd ever touch my beloved hellsite again.
Because... I'd hit a breaking point. I couldn't stand it anymore.
There's so much bullshit everywhere you look.
So much goddamn drama.
I'm an observational person by nature. I watch and I pay attention. I'm always cataloging information whether I mean to or not. It's just how my brain works.
And all I saw was... Pain.
Everyone hurting each other for no reason other than a difference in opinion on FICTIONAL PEOPLE. That exist in a world that is also FICTIONAL. Or about CELEBRITIES that they will never know on a personal level.
We can all feel close to an actor or musician, etc.
But in the end?
We don't know these people.
We get shown a side of who they are.
They're actors. Some of them so mind-blowing at it that it's breathtaking. Wouldn't you think they could present a certain persona if they wanted to? Anytime they wanted to?
I'm not saying what we're seeing isn't real. That who they're presenting to us isn't true to them.
I'm not saying it isn't organic.
What I'm saying is that we don't know them on a personal everyday life level to be able to properly evaluate what kind of person they are.
Belittling and torturing someone with emotional trauma? Because of that?
That mentality is in need of a sharp hip check.
When I say that what I mean is this:
Sometimes you get so deeply immersed in a world and a way of thinking that reality slips away a little. You stop seeing things as clearly. As rationally. You stop seeing people as people.
I've personally had to hip check myself many times in the last year. Many, many, times. Because I got caught up in the euphoria of it all.
I acquired blorbo vision.
Several times I had to pull back, take those blorbo vision glasses off, and take a breath.
Reevaluate.
I would take time to consider if the things that were upsetting me were something that merited it. If it was something of any actual consequence.
And every time?
It wasn't.
It didn't matter in the face of human decency.
It didn't matter because fandom is make believe.
Every inch of it is fiction. Even the ones that revolve around real people. It's all fiction.
But what isn't fiction?
The person behind your favorite blog isn't fiction.
The person behind the blog that makes you feel like screaming and cursing isn't fiction.
But the arguments?
That goes back into fiction land.
There's dissecting a film because it's fascinating or vile.
Then there's thinking that moment of fiction is worth someone taking their life. That we need to argue over the merits of something that happens in fiction like it's on our own front porch. That something happening in fiction has any bearing on real life ideals.
I have been in fandom for over twenty years.
I am a card carrying elder at this point.
And this shit? This new wave of toxic mental warfare?
Fuck that shit.
All of it.
I would say that fandom in it's current form can go to hell but, it already is hell.
My friend did talk sense into me about the situation, though.
Going forward it's gonna be idgaf land:
I'm tried of censoring my opinions.
I'm tired of fandoms bullshit politics.
I'm tired of the drama.
I'm tired of being told what I should think and who I should be and what is acceptable for me to feel.
That shit? Can get fucked. I'm done with it.
Fandom is for fun.
Fandom is for screaming yourself hoarse to your friends about how much you love a character, a show, a book, a graphic novel, a band; anything and everything that makes you feel like a four year old with your brain all lit up like it's fucking Christmas morning.
It is not about being pushed into a goddamn box and being told to behave.
It's not about being shunned for having your own opinions and emotions.
It's not about being told you'll have your privileges removed if you step out of line.
A line that someone else has drawn with invisible ink.
That shit? Can also get fucked.
Say goodbye to censoring and hello to idgaf I'm here to enjoy my blorbos and be stupid. 👋👋👋
friendly reminder to support gifmakers who are still active and creating lots of content despite the horrible treatment we get from users. i don’t know if you noticed but many of us are quiting (and rightfully so), therefore if you want your favorite gifmakers to keep creating content SUPPORT THEM BY REBLOGGING. i can’t stress this enough, tumblr is not instagram, its whole purpose is to create and share. so yeah please try to support content creators if you don’t want them to leave.
oops I made a really long multi chapter thing
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I was scrolling through Tumblr and came across a post of KNOWN PEDOPHILES ON TUMBLR (many of which have or want to rape actual children/minors)
Read on AO3 | Masterlist
Summary: After a botched raid, you and Javi both need a cigarette. Sitting together on the sidewalk outside the embassy, you find out you both need each other too.
Pairings: Javier Peña x DEA Agent!Reader
Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, friends to lovers | Word Count: 3k
Warnings: canon-typical violence, ptsd, smoking
A/N: Somebody called for “local gruff DEA agent is secretly a softie with the girl he loves” with a side of angsty love confession? This one’s for you! ♡
“Javi. Cigarette.”
He cast you a sidelong glance as you sat next to him on the edge of the sidewalk, his gaze lingering only a moment before he reached into the pocket of his jacket and withdrew a pack of smokes. He handed you one, flicked his lighter on for you, and frowned at you.
“What?” you said around a drag. The nicotine immediately flooded your system, quieting some of the shaking in your hands that you were trying very hard to hide.
He shook his head. “Since when do you smoke?”
You held the cigarette between two fingers and pressed the heels of your palms against your eyes, warding off a headache.
“You’ve only known me for a few months, Javi,” you said. You’d started at the embassy a little over six months ago, put on Javi and Steve’s intelligence team by Ambassador Noonan. Though you stayed in the office at the embassy most of the time, you’d gotten to know both men very well. Perhaps too well, in Javi’s case.
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Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader Rating: M Summary: When Din finds himself back on Tatooine, he strikes a deal with you. As he works through his grief and his anxieties, he never expects that he’d fall in love — or that you’d feel the same way. Word count: 8,305 Notes: The title refers to a few things in this story. I kind of glossed over what happens once Jabba’s palace becomes Boba’s palace because I think The Book of Boba Fett will cover that a lot better than anything I could come up with. This also ended up being a lot more than I set out for it to be. Originally it was going to be just shy Din with a crush on the reader, but it turned into an exploration of what might happen after The Rescue. There’s grief and uncertainty and soft, sweet Din Djarin at the centre of it. Reblogs appreciated! Warnings: Grief/mourning, implied death, canon-typical violence, mutual pining, older man/younger woman (not a massive age difference, but still there), non-explicit sexual content.
masterlist || taglist || read on ao3
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Who cares about Mitski or Kingdom Hearts?? Black Lives STILL Matter! Asian Hate has YET TO BE STOPPED! KEEP GOING!
Written for the Cap 2 Challenge by @justsomebucky and @imhereforbvcky
Prompt: ‘Be safe, if you can be’
Summary: After Peggy rejects Steve, he finds company in you, a British Brigadier who is more than meets the eye.
Pairing: Steve x Female Reader (with surname. First name is your own)
Warnings: Angst (Possible proof reading errors)
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Striking out with Peggy was the worst thing that had happened to Steve.
One stupid misunderstanding and she’d frozen him out. He was just staring at the map on the wall with a sense of melancholy, not even fully appreciating that he’d got Bucky back.
“That’s a sour face,” came a female voice from his right. “Chewing on a wasp?”
He turned around to see you, in a different kind of uniform, wearing pants and a Brigadier’s sash. Had you got those on by mistake or were all girls adept at kicking ass like Peggy over in Britain?
“Sorry?”
“You look a little glum,” you smile kindly. “Anything I can help with?”
“No, no I’m good. Thank you,” he blinks in bewilderment. “Uh…sorry if this is rude but…umm….”
“It’s the threads, isn’t it?” you look down and laugh. “Confused more than my fair share of Yanks lately with it. I was in the women’s auxiliary engineering corps but there was a bit of an accident you see.”
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UNDER CONSTRUCTION!!/ 14.8 billion years old. (jk I'm 25). she/her. welcome to my on fire garbage can blog! you're friendly neighborhood mom friend. I DON'T WRITE SMUT! I am absolutely horrid at that!
195 posts