jeewrites

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The way my SO was like, "Huh. So Pedro had to take guitar lessons."

The way I stayed absolutely silent, unable to tell him that it's obvious to me that those hands aren't Pedro's because I know the shape of his nails and they are wide and blunt and not well maintained, not oval and manicured (but with staged grime) like the hands you're seeing here

because the LOOK I would have gotten....

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I made a color corrected mobile (640x340px) header if anyone wants to use it!

If you’d like it in another color, let me know and I’ll see what I can do. 💙

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Still love this one so posted it here again 😌

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This pipeline needs to be studied *in depth*.

from “no, you’re cargo” to “because i love you” 🥲

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40+ 🙋🏻‍♀️

30+ year old women are the backbone of this website

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It’s giving wedding “first look” oml

Favorite.

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I’ve missed these two 🥹🥹

The Craft Market (a Safest with You story)

1.8K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: A stranger at the craft market recognizes your and Din’s dogs.

Warnings: None! Just a silly peek into Din and Pretty Bird’s very happy life 😊 Nicknames, obviously; one (1) full name reveal. Paz's dating shenanigans.

A/N: Just missed these guys so here is a little something about nothing 🥹 Takes place after The Epilogue.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics 🫶🏻 / Series Masterlist

“What do you think their problem is?”

“Hmmmm?” you hum noncommittally at Rory while looking through a table display of handcrafted rings, “Who’s got a problem, babe?”

“There’s this group of girls following us from table to table, hovering and whispering.”

“Are you sure it’s not a coincidence?  The market is pretty crowded - they’re probably just browsing at the same pace as us, trying not to miss anything.”

Rory grits her teeth, “No, they keep looking at us before they huddle.”

“Did you maybe have a bad bridal consult with one of them?”

“I don’t have bad bridal consults,” deadpans Rory, then pretending to be offended, she looks pointedly at you, “and as of recently, I’ve only had one difficult bride.”  Lovingly, you stick your tongue out at her.

Feeling a wet nose nudge your hand, you turn and kneel, cooing, “Well, maybe they’ve been dazzled by these magnificent beasts!”  In a singsong voice, you continue to praise and make lovey dovey faces to Al and Lisette who have accompanied you and Rory to the outdoors craft market today, giving both pups vigorous ear rubs and laying big smooches on their snoots.

“Oh finally!” Rory smirks, “one of them grew a pair and is coming over.”  She proceeds to cross her arms and adopt what you know is her “Stance of Evil”; it’s an interpretation of the “Dad Stance” you’ve all seen Din use when he’s annoyed with the junior boxers at Mando’s, though Rory’s version is somehow more menacing and intimidating than that of the former professional fighter.

A girl you’ve never seen before calls out as she approaches, “Hi!! Are these your dogs?”

Ignoring the roll of Rory’s eyes in your peripheral, you reply, friendly, “Yup!  This is Alfredo and this is Lisette.”

“Oh my gosh, they are soooooo cute!  Have you had them for a long time?”

You have to think about it for a moment, “Well, I’ve had Al coming up on five years now.  My boyfriend and I adopted Lizzy in Spain last year.”

“YOUR BOYFRIEND?!?!” the girl’s exclamation is so unexpectedly incredulous that both you and Rory take a step back, confused, “Um, yes?  Well, I guess he’s actually my fiancé now.”

This somehow is even worse. “YOUR FIAN-” she chokes out, then spins around to yell to the still hovering group of friends who have been watching your entire exchange, “HE’S HER FIANCÉ!!!!!!!!!”

The group of girls comes tearing over, one of them in apparent distress, “So it’s them? It’s Al and Lisette?”

The first girl nods furiously and you look between them, concerned, “Uh, how do you know my dogs?”

“OH GIRL!” the newly arrived girl looks at you, eyes wide and regretful, “I’m so sorry, but I’ve been talking to your man – I promise I didn’t know he was engaged!  We met on a dating app and have been messaging for a few weeks now.  He took me out last Saturday and brought the dogs – that’s how I recognized them when I saw you today.”  She finishes her story by awkwardly petting both Al and Lisette on the head, as if they might be judging her for her indiscretions.

“Oh!” This girl is clearly quite distraught, and, as far as you can see, being so completely earnest that you don’t know how to tell her that what she’s said just isn’t possible.  Din’s loyalty and devotion to you is incontrovertible, and frankly, he just isn’t the type - infidelity and Din are like oil and water.

“That’s absurd,” states Rory.  Or you could have just said that.

The girl is practically in tears now, “I know it’s really hard to hear, but I swear it’s true!  I’m not the type of girl who goes out with guys that aren’t single – cheating is such a big deal to me, it makes me sick to my stomach!  I’m so, so sorry!”

Your urge to comfort this stranger is almost overwhelming, “Oh gosh, please, don’t work yourself up – I promise you there’s been a misunderstanding.  You see, you couldn’t have gone out with my fiancé last Saturday because Din and I were out of town, together, the entire weekend.  He surprised me with a couple’s package at a spa resort.”

“Who’s Din?”

“My fiancé?  Father of these two furballs?”  You pull out your phone and swipe to a picture taken of you and Din at Jimmy’s prize fight earlier this month.

“I don’t know that man,” though no longer frantic, the girl hardly looks relieved.

Smile warm, you shrug kindly, “That’s what I figured!  See?  There’s no cheating!  You’re okay!”

“I don’t understand… these are the dogs I met,” the entire group of girls still look so confused.

Suddenly, something clicks for you, “Is this who you went out with last week?”  You swipe to a picture of Din and Paz from the same evening.

The girl’s mouth drops open in shock, “Yes!  That’s Paz!  Why would he… is he some kind of sociopath?  Who the fuck lies about having dogs?”

Next to her, Rory is doubling over in laughter, Stance of Evil abandoned.

You sigh and give the girl an indulgent look, “Let’s get to the bottom of this right now.”

---

“Oh look, your wifey is calling,” grins Paz, holding up his phone for Din to see the caller ID from across the table.

The two best friends are at their usual table at their usual restaurant; Paz having already decided on the same thing he’s been ordering since him and Din started coming here in their teens, while Din has been squinting through his reading glasses and muttering for the last five minutes about how the print on these new menus is too small.  He peers over the offensive laminated sheet, “Well, don’t keep her waiting.”

Smile getting even wider as another old age joke comes to him, Paz answers on speakerphone, “Hey, Lil’ Lady!”

“Pasquale Jamal Vizsla.”

“Oh shit,” the two men wince in unison.

Having heard Din’s voice in the background, your tone softens - lilt rising to a sweet song, “Hi Din!”

Now it’s Din’s turn to beam while Paz stews, “Hey, pretty bird! How’s the craft market going?”

“It’s great, baby!  I found a nice birthday present for Brian’s girlfriend and picked up some new martingales for the dogs.”

“The dogs have enough collars, sweetheart.”

“That’s right - they do now,” you counter, smiling; there’s never any bite to Din’s reprimand about how much you spend on Al and Lisette – he spoils them ten times worse anyways.

“Can’t wait to see everything when you get home,” purrs Din, clearly taking pleasure in watching Paz squirm nervously in his seat, “Say hi to Rory for me.”

Hi Din! echoes from somewhere in the background – apparently, you’re using speakerphone as well.

“Paz,” your voice drops to a register so serious, Paz swears he can feel the withering stare that accompanies it, “do you remember that conversation we had about using pictures of my dogs on your dating profile?”

“Sure, Lil’ Lady,” the mob enforcer treads carefully, “it’s fine?”

You prompt him, “As long as…?”

“As long as,” sighs Paz, head hanging like a school boy caught cheating on an arithmetic test, “I’m clear that they aren’t my dogs.”  For a few seconds, nothing can be heard but Din’s stifled laughter; silence while you wait for some kind of follow-up confession.

Instead, Paz goes on, “I don’t really see the harm in letting it be, at least for the first few dates?”  Din drops his face in his hands, groaning and shoulders shaking in amusement as he listens to his best friend continue to hang himself: “Like, it’s kind of weird to just bring up right away that the dogs in those photos aren’t mine?”

“Um, no?” your tone bewildered, “what’s weird is pretending to own dogs that aren’t yours?”

“I mean, I’m not saying they’re mine… I’m just not… not saying they’re mine?” even Paz looks confused at his words, eyes screaming at Din for HELP.

“And to answer your earlier question, Paz - the harm is that when you don’t tell the truth about something so minor, something that no sane person would ever think you might lie about, I end up meeting… hang on, sorry babes, I didn’t get your name? …meeting Cassie at the craft market who Hey Girly’d me thinking that she went on a date with my fiancé last weekend?”

Din is in hysterics, wheezing at the ridiculous notion, “Pretty bird, I would never.”

Somewhere in the background, Rory shouts, “She never doubted you for a second, Din!”

Once again, your voice softens and fills with affection when addressing your man, “I know, baby - I was fine.  But poor Cassie here thought she had unwittingly been involved in a cheating scheme and it stressed her out!  Paz, I think you owe her an apology.”

“Aw fuck, you’re right, you’re both right.  Cassie, I’m sorry – I promise I’m not a serial liar and I was being genuine about everything on our date except this.  I thought it was harmless, but there isn’t an excuse for any type of dishonestly… please forgive me.”

There’s a muffled discussion that neither Din nor Paz can make out no matter how intently they try to listen, each shoving the other’s head out of the way while trying to lean closer towards the phone.  Finally, after what feels like forever, a voice Din doesn’t recognize comes on the line, “Ok, Paz.  Your friend convinced me that you’re really a good guy… so I forgive you.”

“Thanks, Cassie.  I promise I won’t let you down – call you later?”

The voice giggles, “Ok.”  Shuffling of the phone is heard before your voice comes back on, louder and clearer – you’ve taken yourself off speakerphone, whispering hurriedly, “Dude!  Sorry to ambush you!  Obviously, while I don’t condone lying for any reason, the dog thing isn’t really the end of the world – just dumb? But Paz, she was so upset!! I had to make a big deal out of it and call you out on the spot so you could be a good guy and apologize right away in order to salvage this thing!!”

Paz breathes a sigh of relief, “Thanks Lil’ Lady, you’re a good wing woman.”

“I’m the best!  Promise me no more stupid lies!  Love you both, bye!”  You hang up after you hear Din’s sweet Love you more, pretty bird.

Both men laugh and exhale loudly, shoulders relaxing at the final turn of the phone conversation.

“Brother, I thought you were cooked when she pulled out your full government name,” cackles Din, eyes crinkled in mirth.

“Same.  Your wifey can be scary.”

“I know,” a dreamy look passes over Din’s face before morphing into a stern gaze, eyes narrow, “Leave my dogs out of your love life.”

“Geez Louise.  You’ve got bigger problems, old man – do you need me to ask the waitress for a magnifying glass?” quips Paz, too busy laughing at his own joke to duck the incoming sweetener packet that hits him square in the forehead.

[jeewrites]

PSA: avoid the Eddington press conference at Cannes if you’re trying to go in spoiler-free

I was watching it live and some dumb ass reporter spoiled it with their fucking question. 🤬😡😤

[jeewrites]

PSA: avoid the Eddington press conference at Cannes if you’re trying to go in spoiler-free

I was watching it live and some dumb ass reporter spoiled it with their fucking question. 🤬😡😤

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Well shit, the Republicans brought a certain anti-online porn bill back to the table.

The Interstate Obscenity Definition Act.

This should alarm you guys.

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👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

Pedro Pascal EDDINGTON - Press Conference - Cannes 2025

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Brb need to get my PhD in Pedro’s ARMS.

ARMS - a study

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Mr. Pascal, I’m kindly asking you to let us BREATHE

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Very interesting.

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this man is UNREAL!!!!!!!!!!

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The most important writing lesson I ever learned was not in a screenwriting class, but a fiction class.

This was senior year of college.  Most of us had already been accepted into grad school of some sort. We felt powerful, we felt talented, and most of all, we felt artistic.

It was the advanced fiction workshop, and we did an entire round of workshops with everyone’s best stories, their most advanced work, their most polished pieces. It was very technical and, most of all, very artistic.

IE: They were boring pieces of pretentious crap.

Now the teacher was either a genius OR was tired of our shit, and decided to give us a challenge.  Flash fiction, he said. Write something as quickly as possible.  Make it stupid.  Make it not mean a thing, just be a quick little blast of words. 

And, of course, we all got stupid.  Little one and two pages of prose without the barriers that it must be good. Little flashes of characters, little bits of scenarios.

And they were electric.  All of them. So interesting, so vivid, not held back by the need to write important things or artistic things. 

One sticks in my mind even today.  The guys original piece was a thinky, thoughtful piece relating the breaking up of threesomes to volcanoes and uncontrolled eruptions that was just annoying to read. But his flash fiction was this three page bit about a homeless man who stole a truck full of coca cola and had to bribe people to drink the soda so he could return the cans to recycling so he could afford one night with the prostitute he loved.

It was funny, it was heartfelt, and it was so, so, so well written.

And just that one little bit of advice, the write something short and stupid, changed a ton of people’s writing styles for the better.

It was amazing. So go.  Go write something small.  Go write something that’s not artistic.  Go write something stupid. Go have fun.

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All the heart eyes for this guy