I think the creators of the Mandalorian seriously underestimated how batshit feral the internet was gonna go for one (1) armored man holding a baby
i will try haha -đ„Š
Right
Seriously, that man has no job prospects for the near future. He hasn't done any animation or IT work in seven years. One google search will discount him from any job relating to social media. No one from RT would even dare to give him a recommendation and if he leaves off RT from his resume, he'll have to explain the 9-year gap and fail to do so. He's fucked his way to fucking up his life.
âhe's fucked his way to fucking up his lifeâ this is such a powerful line
This is just amazing! One of my all time faves;
a ww2 au santiago âpopeâ garcia x reader x frankie âcatfishâ morales fic~
rating: m for smut; threesomes, some war violence
word count: 3.5k
summary: Youâre in a relationship w/ Santi and Frankie and they both are drafted for the war; you anxiously await their return home.
a/n: ive been wanting to do a santi x reader x frankie fic for a while now, but i wanted to do something different w/ mine! just wasnât sure how! until i got this ww2 idea~ so i hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated
thank you @huliabitchâ for this aesthetic!!!!!
xx
Keep reading
I would sell my soul for more content like this
Baby Yoda: My Buir is the best Buir in the galaxy!!
Oh, boy.Â
The Mandalorian 2.04: The Siege
I want him to spend the rest of his life suffering for what heâs done.
I've fallen into both the Pedro Pascal and Supernatural holes, and it looks I'm not gonna find my way out any time soon....well been in the Pedro hole for two years now and the Supernatural one for three... may need help, will keep posted
Hi, first off I absolutely love your writing! The way you write Mando has given me dreams, your the reason I'm watching a few other shows now, I could rant and rave so much more but limited letter's and I have a request if it peaks your interests. How do you think the boys would respond to their SO being harassed at work/on the job? (Maybe she isn't able to respond, so they respond for her)
**Warning: Derogatory Language
Javier: He has a reputation of being an asshole, but goddamned if heâs not going to earn it right now. You are just trying to do your fucking job. You sling drinks for asshole and he is just not going to put up with the way that pot-bellied, beer soaked, small peckered motherfucker talked to you. âHey asshole.â Said inbred hillbilly turns around with a cocky look on his face until he is snatched up by his shirt and shoved against the bar. âSheâs a goddamn person not a fucking dog. You got that, bitch?â He snarls, reaching for the badge in his back pocket. âPay and get the fuck out of here.â He orders while flashing the shiny badge that shows him to be DEA. âOr youâll find yourself in a fucking world of trouble.â You flash him a megawatt smile and give him another beer when the asshole leaves, already biting your lip as you plan exactly how you are going to thank him later on. On your knees.
Ezra: You work at one fo the supply stores on the Pug when you are between harvests. And of course, you get all types that come in to collect gear for their trips to the surfaces of foreign moons. This particular single-celled plebeian had decided that the gear you had sold him last rotation had been the entire reason that his harvest wasnât quite as successful as he believed it ought to have been. Ezra had come to take you to lunch when he hears you being harassed. Of course heâs not going to let this stand. Before you can even say anything to stop him, he has dragged this disgusting waste of air away from you and the man is under Ezraâs boot. He knows just where to press to make it hurt, heâs done this a few times. It might be the softly spoken words that Ezra leans down and whispers, too quiet for you to hear. Or it might be the absolutely deadly look in your loverâs eyes, but the man quickly agrees and the moment Ezra releases him he is scurrying out of the shop. âGem are you ready for us to make our way to that cafĂ©?â He asks cheerfully, as if he hadnât just threatened a man. His smile to you is warm and protective.Â
Mando: He just shoots the asshole. Doesnât say a word. Probably had a bounty on him anyway.
Catfish: He loves coming and watching you work. Especially on those late nights where you are closing the store so he can walk you out to your car and follow you back to the house. He will post up in a chair that has literally be set aside for him and read while waiting for you close up. Youâre almost done when this jerk comes in to return something and apparently can't read the fucking return policy. Frankie frowns as he looks up when the guy starts getting loud. Heâs normally fine with letting you handle things. Until the asshole slams his fist on the counter and calls you a âfucking retarded bitchâ. Frankie is out of his chair and over to you in the blink of an eye. At first the guy shoves Frankie away and tells him to mind his own fucking business. He regrets that when Frankie dislocates the fuckerâs arm and has it twisted behind his back as he very forcefully shoves the jerk towards the automatic doors of your store. Once outside, Frankie demonstrates just how badly that asshole misjudged him, that he had chosen the wrong store to show his ass in. He comes back in, shaking his hand slightly and giving you a  worried look. âYou okay, baby?â He asks softly. He doesnât mind a sore hand as long as you were fine, otherwise he might have to go hit the asshole again.
Tovar: It doesnât take much for Pero to get offended by the way someone talks to you, or hell, even looks at you. There are times when he wishes you didnât work at the tavern. The rowdy assholes that would ride into town somehow believing that you were on the menu instead of the thick stew and crusty bread you served with pints of ale. It wasnât often that a night passed without Tovar getting into a fight with one or all of them. He talks better with his fists anyway.
Agent Whiskey: HEHEHEHE. They done slapped the wrong womanâs ass. Your man might have been a womanizing cowboy back in his wilder days, but he also drank his respect women juice and didnât just grope them without permission. He looks over at you and winks, tipping his hat before he goes into his speech. âManners.......â Yep....heâs getting a super special blow job tonight.
Max Phillips: âStep into my office and let me talk to you buddy.â He gives the asshole a friendly grin, putting him at ease. Poor bastard has no idea heâs about  to become Maxâs next meal.Â
Marcus: Itâs a rare customer that doesnât know that you are the significant other of an FBI agent. It makes running your bakery and coffee shop a hell of a lot easier. But this guy obviously didnât know this. Otherwise Marcus knows he wouldnât have been stupid enough to threaten you. Especially not in front of him. âHey pal, I think itâs best if you leave.â Heâs trying to be a bit better than this fucker for the moment. He doesnât like when he loses his temper, but the sneer on this manâs face is pissing him off. âYeah? What the fuck are you going to do, suit?â Gotcha. âWell, first I think Iâll shove my foot up you ass.â Marcus intones dryly, getting the guys attention. âThen Iâll arrest you for threats with a deadly weapon considering you were stupid enough to bring your golf clubs in here like a douchebag. Also assaulting a federal officer whenever you swing at me and i let you hit me just so I can charge you.â He gives the guy a smirk as he flashes the badge he pulls out of his suit pocket. âSo how about you get the fuck out of here before I ruin the next twelve to eighteen months of your life?â When the guy hauls ass Marcus turns to you with a sheepish expression. âAre you okay, honey?â He asks. âiâm sorry I made a scene.â Yeah you are dragging him back to the storeroom to show him how fucking hot you thought that was.Â
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Yeah, yeah pretty much...
Mando Mando Mando Mando Mando Mando Mando
Kat or Kit|23|Pedro Pascal currently owns my heart, mind and soul|
140 posts