I Hope The Rest Of Ryan’s Life Is Spent With The Knowledge That He Had It All A Loving Wife, Two Amazing

Narcissa Malfoy, at her trail: *crying* So I-I killed. So I maimed. So I destroyed one innocent life after another. Aren’t I a human being? Don’t I yearn, and ache, and shop? Don’t I deserve love... and jewellery.

Aye

Everyone who wants to get completely railed by Pedro Pascal while he wears the Mandalorian helmet say “Aye”

Pedro, what are you doing? He's adorable.....

Okay so this photo has been floating around for a while

and maybe i had been seeing a different shot, because I never... I didn't notice...

Look at this sweet mans

Via Instagram Elvira Lind (@elvira_lind_)

👇🏼The caption & Pedro(@pascalispunk) response👇🏼

🚨UPDATE🚨

🚨UPDATE Pt. 2🚨

🚨Update pt. 3 // Via Pedro Insta (@pascalispunk)🚨

Today I am Breaking Down over:

Din Djacked Djarin

Din’s chin times TWO

Din having a daughter

DIN DJARIN

Scourge also ft. Bone

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)

When You Are Harassed At Work and Can’t Respond: 

**Warning: Derogatory Language

Javier: He has a reputation of being an asshole, but goddamned if he’s 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. “Hey asshole.” 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. “She’s a goddamn person not a fucking dog. You got that, bitch?” He snarls, reaching for the badge in his back pocket. “Pay and get the fuck out of here.” He orders while flashing the shiny badge that shows him to be DEA. “Or you’ll find yourself in a fucking world of trouble.” 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 wasn’t 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 he’s 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 Ezra’s boot. He knows just where to press to make it hurt, he’s 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 lover’s eyes, but the man quickly agrees and the moment Ezra releases him he is scurrying out of the shop. “Gem are you ready for us to make our way to that café?” He asks cheerfully, as if he hadn’t just threatened a man. His smile to you is warm and protective. 

Mando: He just shoots the asshole. Doesn’t 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. You’re 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. He’s normally fine with letting you handle things. Until the asshole slams his fist on the counter and calls you a “fucking retarded bitch”. 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 fucker’s 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. “You okay, baby?” He asks softly. He doesn’t mind a sore hand as long as you were fine, otherwise he might have to go hit the asshole again.

Tovar: It doesn’t 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 didn’t 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 wasn’t 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 woman’s ass. Your man might have been a womanizing cowboy back in his wilder days, but he also drank his respect women juice and didn’t just grope them without permission. He looks over at you and winks, tipping his hat before he goes into his speech. “Manners.......” Yep....he’s getting a super special blow job tonight.

Max Phillips: “Step into my office and let me talk to you buddy.” He gives the asshole a friendly grin, putting him at ease. Poor bastard has no idea he’s about  to become Max’s next meal. 

Marcus: It’s a rare customer that doesn’t 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 didn’t know this. Otherwise Marcus knows he wouldn’t have been stupid enough to threaten you. Especially not in front of him. “Hey pal, I think it’s best if you leave.” He’s trying to be a bit better than this fucker for the moment. He doesn’t like when he loses his temper, but the sneer on this man’s face is pissing him off. “Yeah? What the fuck are you going to do, suit?” Gotcha. “Well, first I think I’ll shove my foot up you ass.” Marcus intones dryly, getting the guys attention. “Then I’ll 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.” He gives the guy a smirk as he flashes the badge he pulls out of his suit pocket. “So how about you get the fuck out of here before I ruin the next twelve to eighteen months of your life?” When the guy hauls ass Marcus turns to you with a sheepish expression. “Are you okay, honey?” He asks. “i’m sorry I made a scene.” Yeah you are dragging him back to the storeroom to show him how fucking hot you thought that was. 

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The Mandalorian: Season 2 streaming this Friday!✨

Pedro Pascal: f*ck the government

What’s in a Name?

A/N: This is quite possibly the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever written in my entire life. But it’s soft. Because Marcus Pike is soft and deserves all the love. Granted, I’ve only watched The Mentalist all the way through once, so…do with that what you will. 

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader (no y/n)

Rating: PG for mention of guns??? I just want to be on the safe side. Idiots in love. Falling in love with someone and not knowing their name. Cliche use of a Quote from Romeo + Juliet.

Word Count: 3.3k 

Summary: The five times Marcus Pike tries to learn your name and the one time he actually does.

Pike was unlucky in love. He knew it. He had started to accept it when things fell apart with Lisbon. His friends and fellow agents, the assholes, actually took pity on him and said he’d find the right person eventually. He just didn’t anticipate having to meet her over and over again.

… that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet... (Romeo + Juliet)

Sometimes, every once in a while, he actually hated his job. Sure, he got to go undercover, stop criminals, right some wrongs, and be called ‘agent’ on top of it. But, right now, listening to some sycophant rant and rave about the “superiority of Cubism over Dadaism,” he wanted to switch careers. There was supposed to be a sale of a stolen Cézanne happening at this gallery in Los Angeles and Pike had suspected the guy with the too-tight three piece suit and bad transatlantic accent was the ring-leader of the whole theft and re-sale. He just needed to not spork his eyes out until he saw money pass hands from the agent he’d sent in to pose as the buyer and the thief-turned-art-asshole. He thought it would only take an hour or two, busts like this usually did—but this guy loved the sound of his own voice so much that he had been going on a tangent about 20th century art movements for nearly four hours now and had somehow gathered a bit of an audience, too, debating with others, and the like. It was exhausting just listening to him.

“If you give me ten dollars, I’ll spill some red wine on his shirt and he’ll be forced to leave.”

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