reigndrop1ets

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sighs

[reigndrop1ets]

CHOP CHOP FANFIC BOY !!1!

okay invincible season 3 has been released, i WILL be waiting for the people to make some fanfics. GET TO WORK EVERYONE🗣🗣

[reigndrop1ets]

Thank You, Mr. Daimyo

Or, the story of the mighty Boba Fett and the school teacher that stole his heart.

Pairings: Boba x teacher!Reader

Warnings: mutual pining, flustered Boba (if such a thing requires a warning)

Notes: I've been sick and miss doing cute crafts with my students, so this is my remedy.

Children have always been something of an enigma to him, even when he was a child himself. He remembers the ones he grew up around, the young clones blindly marching off to battle, eager to prove their merit in a war that didn't matter in the end. He remembers being a child under his father's watchful eye, all the things his father taught him, the good... and the bad. He thinks of the childhood he lost too early to the likes of Aurra Sing and Cad Bane, and then he watches you interact with the children of Mos Espa and it stirs something in him.

Boba's not sure what this something is. At first he thought it bitterness or jealousy, although he supposes there is a bit of truth to that, then he thought it simple confusion. After all, children do have the tendency to be loud, obnoxious, and messy. Djarin's kid is a prime example. But now he wonders if this something feeling that pulls at him whenever he sees you - spectacles perched on your nose, your head and hair wrapped in a kerchief to protect you from the burning suns, a too sweet smile to match your too gentle words - is more complex than any of that.

One of your students, a little Rodian, goes running off after its mother and Boba finds himself drawn ever closer by your smile that lingers long after the children are gone. Your eyes flicker in his direction and your smile falters, hesitant and unsure but still welcoming as you nod at him.

"Another successful day?" It's the only thing he can think to say and he's glad his helmet hides the grimace he makes when he realizes just how ridiculous he sounds.

But you laugh. And that's a start. He pretends not to notice the way his chest tightens when you do.

"Mm, you could say that." Your attention drifts to the Rodian and its mother. "Only one bloody nose today and some of them actually managed to read something. I'm tempted to say I witnessed a miracle."

He thinks a lot of things, then: that you're a fortunate woman to make such an easy living, that you must have the patience of a kriffing jetii (even if such a comparison makes the vein above his eye tick), that he's almost foolish enough to think you're cute, that it's the people like you who make being Daimyo worth all the trouble.

"Must be because you're a miracle worker."

And when you look at him, Boba would like nothing more than to crawl back into that blasted sarlacc pit because when did he start letting himself sound so cliché? His throat suddenly goes dry, even when you smile and chuckle and duck your head away at the poor excuse for a compliment.

"I don't know about that," you mumble shyly, "but thank you, Lord Fett."

That's the other thing about you that doesn't sit right with him. He doesn't like it when you address him properly, with the titles and respect that he's earned. It leaves an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach long after you part. He finishes his rounds in the streets, greeting merchants and playing the part he's chosen, but even when he returns to the palace that discomfort lingers. It isn't until after dinner when he's removing his armor that he realizes he's never heard you say his name and perhaps he'd like you to address him without all the fancy titles and that reserved demeanor you only pull out when he's around.

That should be enough warning for him to stop this, whatever this is.

Infatuation, screams his logic. A childish notion. He's not a child any longer. He could go on for hours about the sort of man he is now, battle hardened and clever and relentless. He's outgrown romantic things like love and affection. This whole thing is stupid, he's acting a fool, and he should make a point not to stop by your school unless absolutely necessary. If his father were only here to see him now, if Sing or Bane or hell, even Bossk knew he'd let himself entertain a crush-

The evening breeze catches the drapes along his balcony just right and it casts Fett back a whole year. He's huddled in front of a dying fire and the moon is high and the Banthas are snoring. The wind is whistling through tent flaps and the Tuskens are whispering to each other, holding their loved ones close. The kid is snoring by his feet with his pet Massif and Boba feels at peace, at home. He looks from one family unit to another, and then he's back in the palace, blinking away a sudden stinging in his eyes.

Your Tusken family, Bane had called them. They'd never really been anything else, had they? They were safe, strong, the missing piece that filled the emptiness a lifetime of solitude had carved into him. He wonders if you could be that, too.

It's stupid. He's going to make a fool of himself. Probably get himself hurt. But his weekly outings to Mos Espa just wouldn't be the same without the usual stop at the school. And it would be bad form not to check in on you.

Little Shronah raises her hand. "Teacher?" Her Rodian accent twists the vowels a bit, so it doesn't come out quite right.

You smile in an attempt to encourage her since she's usually so quiet. "What's up, Shronah?"

"Can you help me?"

The rest of the kids are working either on their own or in pairs on their drawings, so you head over to her side of the room. Paper is outdated even on Tatooine, but you've always thought that learning to write and draw without tech aides is an important skill for the younglings. It's good for their hand dexterity, hand-to-eye coordination, encourages creativity, and when it comes to simple crafts like these, it's just plain fun. Plus you love to hang their drawings up when they're finished.

You crouch down by Shronah's desk. "What d'you need help with, sweetie?"

She points to her picture with the Rodian equivalent of a frown. "I don't know how to spell it."

It's an interesting picture. Lots of brown and green scribbles. You think you can make out double suns in the top half and maybe some limbs in the bottom half, but crayons are difficult for Rodian physiology so it looks more abstract than anything.

"Spell what?"

"My momma said that I- that I should say thank you to the Daimyo because he..." Shronah pauses to catch her breath and her big eyes sparkle when she looks up at you. "Because he saved our city from those big ugly slugs, so I wanted to say, 'thank you, Mr. Daimyo,' but I don't know how to- to spell that."

Oh. You can't help the smile that fans across the entire breadth of your face. Stars above, it's the moments like these that make every bad day worth it.

You tuck your chin into your open palm to hide just how much you're smiling. "Well, that's very nice of you, Shronah. I'm sure Lord Fett will love it." You hand her one of the green crayons, the same shade she used for what you now realize is a scribble of herself and the mighty Boba Fett in all his armored glory. "So thank - thesh, aurek, nern, krill..."

"Cayty, looks like your dads are here." Her auburn braids go bouncing behind her when she darts off. You turn and tap a few other students on their shoulders. "Fetmuh, Nihln, your parents are here, too."

"Bye, teacher!" Fetmuh calls over her shoulder with a wave and a big grin.

"See you tomorrow!"

It takes a moment, but the light ringing of spurs catches your ear amid the hustle and bustle of pick-up time. And really, it should be embarrassing how your body reacts to even the slightest possibility of seeing him. You're still working, for crying out loud! You shouldn't be entertaining the flutter-bys in your stomach or the nervous, flustered feeling in your chest that's crawling up into your face. But you are.

Stupid. It's stupid to think that his weekly check-ins mean anything to him other than the fulfillment of his duties as Daimyo. He has a whole city to run, a whole planet, and you're simply a cog in the greater machine. You know that, logically, you do, but some not-so-small part of you wonders if it could ever be more.

The two remaining younglings fall into an awestruck silence when Fett's frame comes fully into view. He's not particularly tall to you, but he's kriffing broad as a bantha and even more so with his armor. You can tell there are muscles under it all. You try not to dwell on the resulting image that springs to mind.

"Lord Fett," you hum with something between a nod and a curtsy.

You're not sure why you're curtsying. You've never done that before, but the man makes you nervous in all the right and wrong ways, so there's only so much you can do.

His helmet is quickly removed, something he only ever does when the children are around (you like to think he doesn't want to scare them), and your two remaining ones go a little giddy. You don't blame them.

"And how were your lessons today, little ones?" Fett gruffs with something of a smile.

Shronah bounces up onto her toes. "Fun!" she squeals with her fists in the air.

Toma, on the other hand, doesn't share her enthusiasm. "Boring," the Pantoran grumbles as he kicks at a pebble.

The corner of the Daimyo's mouth quirks into a fuller smile that causes his cheek to dimple and Maker, if that doesn't send your heart racing. There's mischief in his eyes when he crouches down onto one knee, his helmet braced under his arm, and he leans in conspiratorially.

"Boring? Don't tell me she's actually trying t' teach you?" and he sounds positively horrified at the concept.

Toma's eyes go painfully wide and he nods frantically, leaning even closer so he can cup his hand around Fett's ear. He's a terrible whisperer, though, so you hear him clear as day. "She is. It's awful."

You've never noticed it before, but his eyes are beautiful. They settle on you, shining bright amber and kaf brown and a little hint of black, and you can feel your entire face go hot when he finally, properly smiles at you. In fact, he's laughing. It's a marvelous sound, rich and hearty, and you really, really like it.

He raises his eyebrows as his head tilts slightly to one side. "Is that so?"

"Guilty as charged," you reply, arms raised in surrender.

Fett tsks and shakes his head in mock disappointment, but the kids are giggling hysterically. Your heart feels so full, it could burst, and you know you're beaming. Stupid, silly crush. Stupid, silly man. Stupid, silly kids.

"And what are we going t' do with you, hm? A teacher who teaches. I've never heard of such a thing."

You laugh. "Yeah, better lock me up. Maker knows what I could get up to."

Shronah is giggling so profusely that you're honestly a little worried she's not getting enough oxygen. The girl is absolutely tickled and Toma isn't much better off, although he's making a considerable effort not to look as amused. Trying to play it cool. Damn, you love these kids.

By now, both of their parents have arrived for pick up and you can see the confusion written plainly on their faces. It's an odd sight, to be sure - two giggling younglings, a Daimyo, and a teacher, it's like the setup of a bad joke. But you wave them goodbye and watch them leave, and Boba Fett stays.

There's a million things you want to say. You're impressed with how good he is with the kids, you want to ask if he's ever worked with any before, you want to say something that might make him stay a little longer, even just a moment, when it comes to you.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" And he turns his attention back to you, expression neutral and damn near impossible to read, but you don't let it bother you. You're sure you can get another smile out of him. "Shronah, our little Rodian? She made something for you in class today. Thought you might like to see it?"

That clearly gets his attention judging by the way his eyebrows shoot up. He seems to process this for a moment, almost like he's confused. He blinks, frowns, blinks again.

"For me?"

You nod. "Come with me. I'll show you."

You try pointing out little bits of the classroom to him, where Shronah and Toma sit, today's lesson still marked on the board, and you hope he doesn't notice or mind the stray crayons on the floor.

Above your desk, there's a banner made out of twine and today's drawings that stretches from one side of the room to the other. It's mostly stick figure families and a few with you guest starring, even one with something that you think could be a rancor but could also be a sandstorm.

"There we go, right there." You point to the one right above your chair and flash Fett a smile. "The smaller green scribble is Shronah and the other scribble is you. You're lucky, she gave you limbs, I think. We had some trouble with the spelling, though. But I think it turned out okay."

The look on his face; you're not sure you've ever seen that look before, on anyone. He's less confused now, it seems to have morphed into shock, but there's something else you can't place. He's almost sad? Or maybe he's just thinking? You glance back at the drawing and chew nervously on the inside of your cheek.

"My Mando'a's a little rusty," you admit. "I think I chose the wrong translation. But I thought-..."

You can't bring yourself to finish the thought. Stars above, did you screw up? Did you offend him? Of course the one time you have a chance to show him something nice, to have a spare moment with the man under the beskar, and you kark it up.

Okay, it's okay, just wrap it up, you tell yourself. Forget it ever happened.

"My apologies, Lord Fett, I-"

"Did you tell her to draw this?"

It's such an odd question and his face is so stern when he looks at you that it's startling. "Wha-? No! No, I didn't... No, she drew it all on her own. But writing in Aurebesh is hard for her, so I helped her spell it out." That much is obvious from the shakily written letters. "The Mando'a was my idea. I hope I didn't offend you, that wasn't my intent."

"No. You haven't offended me." The strange expression lingers for a moment as he considers the drawing again, but is soon replaced by a smirk. "But you are right. Your Mando'a could use some work."

The nerve of this man! You have half a mind to bump him in the shoulder, tease him about it a little, but he is still the Daimyo and you are still just a teacher. You don't want to cross a line.

"Well, it's not like I have much access to Mando culture out here, now do I?" It's a safe enough rebuttal to still be cheeky without bordering on disrespectful. "I'll be sure to brush up on it for the next kid who wants to turn you into a scribble."

"Perhaps the teacher needs to be taught?"

And something in the air shifts. Your breath catches in your throat, your eyes dart around the idea of his face for a moment or two before finally finding the courage to settle on his irises, and you could swear this man is flirting with you.

You nod, still breathless. "Yeah. Perhaps."

Are you offering? You want to scream it from the rooftops.

Knowing eyes the shade of fresh kaf consider you. Fett's cheeks dimple again, both of them, and you have to duck your head under the weight of his attention. It's too dazzling to look at head on.

"Nakar'tuur," he says as he turns for the exit.

You only know about three phrases in Mando'a and that's not one of them. "Uh, what?"

He pauses in the doorway, framed by the sunlight as he moves to replace his helmet atop his head. You catch a whisper of his smile. "Tomorrow. Come to the palace."

Your head is spinning. Or maybe it's the room. Is he fucking serious?

"Uhh." It's the only response you can manage.

"If you choose."

Oh no, he's completely misinterpreting you. Wake up, stupid! Words, phrases, sentences! Anything!

"No!" you yelp. "No, no, I do. I mean, I'd love to. Thank you, Lord Fett, I-"

"Boba." His voice is softer now than you've ever heard it. Hesitant, quiet. "Call me Boba."

You're sure you look like a damn fish with your mouth hanging open, nodding unblinkingly at him like a moron, but you're still processing everything. His voice, his face, his words. His name.

"Nakar'tuur, girl."

And then he's gone. The doors hiss shut on your own whispered farewell, the first time you've ever said his name instead of his title. Something excitable buzzes in your throat.

What will tomorrow bring?

[reigndrop1ets]

IT'S LITERALLY ONLY ME AND LIKE 2 OTHER PEOPLE IN THE WOJCHEK X READER TAG COME ON WAKE UP SHEEPLE DAVID DASTMALCHIAN IS COVERED IN HAIR GRIME AND MUSCLE LETS GO!!!!!?!?!??!!!!!!

[reigndrop1ets]

i think the key difference between george lucas’s star wars and disney’s star wars is that lucas is a man with an ideology. someone with a point of view, and all that entails. which comes with ideas of revolution, anti-imperialism, challenging the status quo, cultural appropriation and racist stereotypes. complex and contradictory ideas because that’s how artists are: complex and complicated people. disney is not. disney is a corporation. a corporation can’t have ideology, because ideology defeats the purpose of profit. and when the only thing you do is to turn on the movie manufacturing machine before you sit down and plan what ideas are you trying to convey to the audience, then your results are going to be washed out corporate garbage. and because when you’re a giant corporation who only cares about selling to the widest audience possible, you can’t take sides. you can’t decide on an idea. because you want to sell your product to people who are on the entire political spectrum. which results in movies without ideology, without purpose, without soul.

[reigndrop1ets]

🚨Help save the life of Youef 🛑

Youssef, a precious two-year-old boy, now has his life in danger as war sweeps through the Gaza Strip. We urgently need your support to provide him with life-saving medical care and shelter. Every donation, no matter how small, can make a big difference. Please consider making a donation today to help Joseph and his family survive this unimaginable ordeal. By sharing this post, you can help spread the word and increase your chances of reaching our goal. Together, we can give Joseph a fighting chance against the horrors of war. Thank you for your kindness and generosity. Every dollar donated brings us closer to saving Joseph's precious life.

10£ may seem small

But ‏ your contribution helps save the life of an entire family suffering from the threat of genocide, repeated bombing, and displacement in Gaza. Hand in hand, we put hope and a smile back on my family’s face Please donate now 🙏

https://gofund.me/86a04937

[reigndrop1ets]

Hello,,

My name is Ashraf Alanqar, and I am 30 years old. My wife, Widad Issa, and I have a one-and-a-half-year-old son named Bakr. We used to live peacefully in the Al-Shuja’iya neighborhood, in a house we built just a week before the war began. I worked as a farmer and owned a large chicken farm that provided for my family.

Beloved of my heart (Bakr)

Then the war came and destroyed everything. Our home was reduced to ashes, and our chicken farm was obliterated. We lost our home, our livelihood, and even our basic rights. We've been forced to move from place to place in northern Gaza, simply trying to survive.

My House before...

Me.. while trying to recognize what has happened..

The terror we feel as we flee from heavy bombardment is unbearable. The sound of explosions around us, the constant fear as we navigate through the rubble of destroyed homes searching for safety and food, haunts us every day. My son Bakr is constantly scared and suffers from severe malnutrition and skin diseases due to the lack of food, water, and sanitation.

Our beautiful memories.. :(

We urgently need your help. I am asking for your support to fund this campaign to move my family to a safe place, provide us with a proper home, and ensure we have enough food, water, and medical care.

Baker used to play with his dog.

Your donation, no matter how small, can make a significant difference in our lives. We desperately need your support and solidarity during this difficult time. Together, we can restore hope and safety to Ashraf and his family.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for considering my plea. Your support means more than words can express. Together, we can turn a story of loss into a journey of hope and resilience.

With deepest gratitude,

Ashraf & the Family

[reigndrop1ets]

this is not normal. Palestinian students the same age as me or in many cases even YOUNGER shouldn’t have to be online 24/7 advocating for their families just so they have some money to buy food and buy a tent after their old one was destroyed by a drone strike. please don’t be desensitized by this. there is an onslaught of atrocities being committed by israel every single day but we have to keep standing up for Palestinians.

the students on my dash… they’re all so young they have aspirations they have hopes. but now they need to wake up at the crack of dawn to line up at the food distribution center not knowing if there’s a sniper somewhere watching them. this is horrific

[reigndrop1ets]

i'll keep this brief to spare your dash:

27 person family, trapped in gaza

injured and sick members, young kids, and elderly

displaced 8 times, currently separated & sleeping on the streets

less than $1k USD to reach their next goal

verified / donate here

art raffle by @horreurscopes (physical prints!)

[reigndrop1ets]

our new life in Gaza

we live in a very hard conditions. Stand with us, stand with our children

gofund me link:

paypal link:

[reigndrop1ets]

Jon Bernthal:

• One of the biggest zionists in Hollywood and a massive supporter of the IDF

• Supports domestic abuser Shia LaBeouf and had him on his podcast to start his redemption tour

• Friends with sexual abuser Marilyn Manson

• Supports police fascism

• Worked with Roman Polanski post conviction

[reigndrop1ets]

stop watching anything with gal gadot in it — that ESPECIALLY includes marvel. they’re not even good anyway lmao. military-sponsored propaganda.

“not watching something” is genuinely the bare minimum. it’s the simplest boycott that could be asked of you.

[reigndrop1ets]

like.. newsflash when you vehemently defend your right to make every piece of media you consume be about incest and pedophilia people are going to think you’re a creepy weirdo. sure it’s not technically illegal, but people are entitled to disliking you and are within their right to tell others who may care about that stuff, since 95% of people do. and that’s not anywhere the same as oppression based on gender or sexuality btw

[reigndrop1ets]

Irish MP: 'I hope benjamin netanyahu burns in hell'

Irish Member of Parliament, Thomas Gould, became emotional over the death of children in Gaza following israel's attacks on Rafah last weekend. 'I hope [israeli Prime Minister] benjamin netanyahu burns in hell in the same way those children burned', he told Parliament.

[reigndrop1ets]

Sonya Massey was a paranoid-schizophrenic woman who turned to the police when she was scared and suspected an intruder inside of her home; she was a Black, mentally ill, woman shot dead and executed by a white police officer solely because she said "I rebuke you" over a pot of water. she was DUCKING DOWN behind a counter repeating the words "I'm sorry" as he advanced and, eventually, killed her. Sean Grayson, a white police officer, executed her.

her name was Sonya Massey. she was a human being who deserved to live. say her fucking name. Sonya Massey.

edit: please do not erase or negate the fact that Sonya was schizophrenic. Black schizophrenic people are more likely to die at the hands of the police as well as be brutalised by them, and by negating the fact that she was schizophrenic, you are erasing that this was an execution fuelled by BOTH racism & saneism. please have some respect and continue to say her name, thank you.

[reigndrop1ets]

Oh the woman you were.. you deserved so much better

[reigndrop1ets]

Trapped Family in Gaza Appeals for Help to Survive

A Plea for Help from Gaza: A Family Seeking Safety

Hello, I am Mohammed Alanqer, married to Enas Majed, and we have four wonderful children.

We live in the midst of the ongoing hellish war in Gaza, trapped between walls of fear and despair. I, Mohammed, am a father of four children and a husband to a woman who was two months pregnant when the war began.

We struggle daily to survive in an environment filled with threats and dangers.

I lost our sole source of livelihood when my tech startup, which I built with dedication and hard work, was destroyed in the war. My children, Layan, Sarah, and Adam, have been deprived of education after their schools were destroyed, severely threatening their future. Amidst these harsh circumstances, my wife gave birth to our fourth child, Amir, in the midst of the war, adding to our state of despair and hopelessness.

My wife, Enas, lives in constant anxiety due to the destruction of hospitals in our area. I have lost my job and source of income, leaving me unable to provide for my family's needs and safety. Our home was destroyed by the war, forcing us to flee repeatedly and rendering us homeless.

We now face extreme difficulty in providing a safe place to live, clean clothes, and food for our children. Additionally, our children have contracted diseases like measles, and our son Adam has been diagnosed with viral hepatitis.

Our only hope now is to escape this ongoing nightmare and find a safe haven for our family. However, this requires exorbitant financial costs; the coordination fees for crossing the borders amount to $5000 per adult and $2500 per child, a sum I cannot afford alone.

We urgently appeal for your moral and financial assistance to cover the necessary costs for escaping to a safe environment, where we can build a better future for our children and ensure our family's safety.

We are in desperate need of your support. Any donation, no matter how small, can help save our lives. Thank you for your attention and support during these harsh times.

GoFundMe Campaign Link ♥️ :

https://gofund.me/afbb2b7f

With deepest respect and gratitude,

Mohammed Alanqer 🌺🌹

🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉

Note :

My account vetted by :

@nabulsi ♥️ link vetted 🌺

@fairuzfan ♥️ Link vetted 🌺

@communistchilchuck ♥️ link vetted 🌺

@sar-soor ♥️ link vetted 🌺

@90-ghost ♥️ link vetted 🌺

@commissions4aid-international ♥️ link vetted 🌺

Dear Campaign Verification Team at Tumblr,

I extend my heartfelt gratitude for your assistance in bringing back my voice and my family's voice to life once again. Following the deactivation of my old account, I am eager to revive our campaign with its inspiring humanitarian message.

You are more than just a team; you are reliable friends in challenging times. I am grateful for your swift response and ongoing support. I look forward to working with you again to repost the message and reach as many people as possible.

Thanks to your efforts, together we can create new opportunities and spread goodness in the community. I am confident that your continued engagement will help us achieve this common goal.

Thank you once again for all your efforts and unwavering support