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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If you're still doing marcus requests... do you think you could write something where he just broke up with Teresa and is preparing to go to DC, and the reader is his best friend, but she tries to muster up the courage to confess that she loves him before he goes? Thank you 💕
AHhh this is so cute! Thanks for requesting this! <3
Marcus Pike x Reader
Word Count: 1.3k
Warnings: tiny bit of angst followed by fluff!
Love is a funny thing.
It’s a funny thing simply because it can be so many things at once. It can be a warm slow growing feeling that begins as butterflies in your tummy before eventually moving it’s way into your heart. It can be an all at once feeling that seems to blow you off your feet. It can be a comforting feeling that reminds you of home and all the wonderful things that come with it. But it can also be sad. It can make your heart ache and your fingertips tingle. It can make your stomach roll in anxiousness, and make your mind run wild with all the different outcomes. But most of all, love is a powerful thing, able to make even the strongest man crumble beneath the weight of it all.
Which is what happened to your best friend.
You watched as Marcus experienced everything that love is, before the woman of his affections snatched it away when she realized her true feelings lied in another. While you were there as he cried on your shoulder and held you tightly in his arms as his grief ran out of him like a river, you couldn’t help the small sense of relief that washed over you. You too have experienced what Love is, except it was for the man who had cried in your arms, for the man you knew you could never have because he only saw you as his friend.
You too knew that Love can be sad.
You witnessed the awful ache that spread it;s tendrils through your chest when he told you he was leaving. You felt the way your stomach seemed to turn in on itself as you stood outside his door, ready to lay everything before him, no matter the outcome. Because you also knew all the good that Love can be, and that outweighed the bad, tenfold. And if there was even the slightest chance that Marcus could return the love you held for him, then you had to take that leap of faith.
You stood outside of Marcus’s apartment, wringing your hands together nervously as you built up the courage to knock on his door. It had been several weeks since Teresa had broken things off with Marcus, broken his heart. And now, he is leaving for DC, having told you the news over one of your weekly movie nights with empty Chinese takeout containers lying on the coffee table. You had held back your tears, shielded your crumbling heart as you hugged him and wished him the best. Because that;s what friends are supposed to do right? Encourage each other to pursue what’s best for them and what they want to do. Yet, as you hugged him and he hugged you back, you were unaware of the other heart breaking right across from yours.
Marcus didn’t want to leave you. In fact he had hoped you would reduce his plan, ask him to stay so he had a reason too. Because, unbeknownst to you, Marcus had only pursued Theresa because he never thought he could have you. He hadn’t realized this until later, after he had been talking to you one night after the break up. But it seems even you didn’t want him around enough to ask him to stay. So he made the arrangements to go to DC, hoping time away from everything would help him forget.
Marcus was actually packing the last of his bags when you took a deep breath and knocked firmly on his door. You shifted from one foot to the other anxiously as you waited for him to answer, and you felt your heart rate speed up as you heard his footsteps nearing the door. When the lock clicked and the door was pulled open to reveal the face of the man you loved, you felt a small if somewhat nervous smile come to your face.
“Hey Marcus,” you greet quietly.
He beams at you, holding the door open wider to guide you into the apartment, “Hey, I didn’t expect you to come by,” he says, closing the door behind you and shoving his hands into his pockets as he looks around the mostly empty apartment, “I’m not really in the best spot to entertain right now,” he jokes.
You shake your head and send him a small smile, “You know I don’t care Marcus,” you say, “I just came by too…” you trail off, unsure of how to segway into what you want to tell him, “I wanted to see you again before you left,” you say finally, eyes falling to the floor.
His eyes soften at your words, as if he himself had forgotten that he's moving across the country. He shifts on his feet for a moment before finally speaking again, “Why do I feel like that’s not the only reason you came all the way across town?”
You feel tears well up in your eyes at his words. Ever the FBI agent, trained to notice all the little things. Before you can stop yourself you launch yourself into Marcus, wrapping your arms around his middle and burrowing your face in his chest. Your tears soaking through the white t-shirt he’s wearing.
“Please don’t go, Marcus,” you beg quietly, voice wet with tears, “I don’t know what I’m going to do if you go.”
After his momentary shock at your sudden actions, Marcus wraps his arms around you tightly, resting his head atop your own, your name falling from his lip, “I’ve already made the transfer...and all of my things have been moved down there. I can’t just-”
“I love you.”
Your voice is barely a whisper as the words slip past your lips, but Marcus hears them, and you feel his entire body tense, but you don’t move from your position in his arms. Instead you pull him tighter to you, afraid if you let go he’ll run away.
“That’s what I came here to tell you,” you admit, “I’ve felt like this for a while now but never said anything because I didn’t want to ruin what we had, and then you and Theresa -”
You hadn’t even been able to finish your sentence before Marcus was pulling you away from him, cradling your face in his hands and crashing his lips to yours. It didn’t take you long to respond, your body melting into his, as your hands rested on his wrists. Your tears seem to flow harder now, mixing together where your lips meet as you are bombarded with an onslaught of mixed emotions. Your lips move against his naturally, as if you both had done this a million times despite this being your first kiss. Marcus pulls away slowly after a few moments, both of you desperate for air. His hands stay where they are, his thumbs wiping at the tears on your cheeks, as your own hands fall to his chest.
“Marcus? W-what, why did you-”
“I love you too,” he rasps, resting his forehead against your own, “I didn’t realize it then, but I love you so much, and I only used my relationship with Theresa as a way to try and smother my feelings for you.”
You pull back from him slightly, his hands falling from your face to rest on your hips instead, “Why didn’t you say anything?” you whisper, confusion tugging at your brows.
He chuckles and shakes his head, “Same reason you didn’t,” he says, “Because I’d rather have you as a best friend than not have you at all.”
You smile at his words, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment before looking up at him, “Well I hope after that kiss we can be more than best friends now.”
Marcus lets out a laugh and nods, “I think I can agree to that,” he says quietly, his demeanor turning sheepish before he speaks again.
“Stay the night?” he asks, pressing a short kiss to your lips, “Please?”
You smile and return the kiss quickly before nuzzling your head into his chest again, “Of course, Marcus. And I hope you’ll call and cancel that transfer tomorrow.”
Marcus smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before resting his cheek against it once again, content to finally be holding you in his arms.
“Anything for you, sweetheart.”
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Pedro Characters Tag: @lustriix @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii @longitud-de-onda @pascalisthepunkest @24kgoldentip @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @mrsparknuts @yabby-girl @mybarnesmyhero @sarcastic-space-gal @your-pixels-are-showing @thottiewinemom @sunflqwr @ezraslittleblondestreak @scribbledghost @shayna-winchester @agingerindenial @ezrasarm @promiscuoussatan @dee-rosemary @absurdthirst @the-wishmonger @lilangeldevil006 @im-an-adult-ish @rynadjarin-reading @tortles @hayley-the-comet
Marcus Pike Tag: @stanfordscrush
Despite the fancy survey, changes to the UI and TOS reveal we’re getting the service in the future whether we want it or not. Obviously, Post+ is a terrible idea that is trying to bank revenue on user content. Unlike patreon or onlyfans, tumblr’s primary focus is on FAN content. The legality of this is NOT in the users favor and as the new tumblr TOS states, said users will be entirely liable for whatever legal matters arise.
Besides filling out the survey, it’s time to show tumblr we mean business and show our displeasure by hitting them where it hurts.
Ad revenue.
We’re proposing a 24 hour log off as phase one of this protest.
AUGUST 6th, 2021 12 am Eastern Time (US) 5 am Greenwich Mean Time 6 am Central European Time 8 am Moscow Standard Time 1 pm Australian Western Time 2 pm Japan Standard Time 3:30 pm Australian Central Time 4 pm Australian Eastern Time
AUGUST 5th, 2021
11 pm Central Time (US) 10 pm Mountain Time (US) 9 pm Pacific Time (US)
THE END TIME IS 24 HOURS FROM START TIME!!!
So no posting, no queues, no likes, and no reblogs!
Like this post and share it AS MANY TIMES AS POSSIBLE. Use the hashtags #tumblrlogoff2021 or #postplusprotest on ANY and ALL social media.
Maybe, maybe not. It’s an attempt at doing SOMETHING.
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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Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader Rating: T Warnings: Shared dreams, the tiniest bit of spice, yearning, loneliness, confusion, misinterpretation. Word count: 5,705 words Summary: After sharing life-like dreams with someone named Din Djarin, you are surprised to discover that he is your soulmate. At the same time, however, a mysterious Mandalorian bounty hunter crosses your path and captures your attention.
Taglist: @dindjarindiaries @goldafterglow @frannyzooey @absurdthirst @catfishingmorales @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @hopelikethesun @forever-rogue @f0rever15elf @thewaythisis @marvel-and-mischief @seasonschange-butpeopledont @lose-eels @ezrasarm @din-damn-djarin @opheliaelysia @pajamasecrets @mandohatesdroids @poenariuniverse @fioccodineveautunnale @fleetwoodmactshirts @auty-ren @profkenobi @storiesofthefandomlovers @ithinkwehitametaphor @yespolkadotkitty @cinewhore @wille-zarr @tangledlove27
Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my future writing!
masterlist || read on ao3
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I'm trying to prove something.
Summary: After his time in service, Frankie relies on routine–but you arrive to shake things up.
Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (no Y/N)
Rating: PG (minor language and suggestive thoughts)
Tags: FLUFF, reader washes/cuts Frankie’s hair and beard, meet-cute, Frankie is an anxious boi but he’s trying, this is pure tooth rotting fluff and an ode to Frankie’s hair
Notes: Every day when I drive from work I pass ‘Frankie’s Barber Shop’ and wish it was Frankie Morales’ (but we all know he’d call his like, 'Catfish Cuts’ or something)
I picture Frankie a bit younger here, done with the military but before the events of TF!
For my non-US readers, Great Clips is a chain of discount hairdressers!
Frankie Morales is a simple man; a man of routine. He puts his shoes on right-then-left, even when it means he has to teeter precariously on his bad knee. He brushes his teeth for exactly 2 minutes, as timed on the toothbrush. He wears the same grey t-shirt and jeans combo that has followed him since high school. So when he left Great Clips with a particularly bad $7.99 haircut, buzzed uneven and patchy to the point that the guys ribbed him for it for weeks, he dreadfully set to Google to find a new place.
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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. 👋👋👋
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!
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