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hopefull-mindset · 9 months

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Finally understanding Beast Mori (as Asagiri intended)

Hello everyone, I am hoping you’ll be nice about me talking about Mori for two seconds and express my thoughts about such a guy like this. This isn’t going to be some fancy analysis picking apart stuff like I’d usually want to or even me addressing every trait he has because I definitely don’t go into everything. This is me finally being at peace with Mori’s humanity.

Before you say anything, I’d just like to share my own peace of comprehension. So if you were similarly confused the way I was, I think you’d appreciate this (Or if you’re looking for a different approach on Mori).

Im sure most of you have read the manga adaptation, so just to let you know, I am going to be using passages from the official Light Novel translation and if anyone needs it, I can send it to them!

For anyone who’s decided to read, hello! Nice to meet you. I’m sure we’ve all shared the same confusion when confronted with Beast Mori’s difference in personality and approach. Thoughts like “Why is he so much nicer?” Or “Why does he care much more about how kids are treated, when he himself has treated kids the same way he describes in the past?”

How could this person be the same guy who was Mori the Port Mafia Boss? The war veteran who used Yosano the way he did? So we came up with many idea of why he’s different to justify it, but here’s the thing: Mori is the same person he always was, this is a universe where everything is the same, but different where Dazai chooses to intervene.

After a few days, I was able to recognize it but I couldn’t hold myself to acknowledge it. It’s hard to see a man who represents the dark, the Port Mafia, to the Armed Detective Agency’s light. I couldn’t wrap my head that such a controlling, manipulative man could have humanity like the rest of the characters.

Why was this so hard for me to see? Well two reasons— the fandom and how the anime cuts down Mori’s emotions when adapting canon material. This happens to Dazai too, but people are much more willing to talk about it compared to Mori. Now the fandom really does love blaming everything on Mori and that’s not the most constructive thing to do when talking about abuse narratives. I can’t blame anyone for taking this route when it came to Mori because of Asagiri’s poorly thought out choice with him…. we all know what I’m talking about. Elise.

However, I need some of you to understand that abuse narratives are never as simple as “oh, it’s all this persons fault because they’re a horrible person, so [character] is resolved from any guilt or responsibility”. This not only dumbs down the situation and seriousness of it, by mischaracterizing the abuser, you’re also mischaracterizing the victim as well and what they’ve gone through. You’re putting their story in jeopardy.

Bungou Stray Dogs is a story about human beings, morality, and what it all means. Mori, and in turn Fukuzawa, are important to understand Bungou Stray Dogs because they are in two pinochle positions that start this discussion of Morality. I am baffled that a story like this, one that approaches these topics with so much appreciation for humanity and nuance, has a fandom that doesn’t want to talk about what it has to offer.

Asagiri’s poorly thought out writing decision of a joke is going to have lasting effects with how Mori is going to be approached forever and I see this, but I think the little girl jokes are the least important thing to talk about because they have as much impact as the Tanizaki siblings do. He’s also written to be not a good person either, so you can dislike him easily, but how many of these characters are traditionally good people? Kouyou, for example, is not a “good person” and emotionally abusive in example to how she treated Kyouka. That doesn’t stop people from liking her friendship with Chuuya and making content with her.

So this attitude toward Mori had me lost when it came to him because I could see how much thought Asagiri puts into writing him the same way he does with so many, but I’ve seen so many disregard his humanity that I had no way to express any of my thoughts to sort out what to think about through anyone else when faced with Beast Mori. Everyone was as lost I was, and the people that weren’t never explained it in a way I could break that barrier.

So what finally made me wrap my head around Mori? It was exactly one conversation I had with a friend and it wasn’t even about Beast Mori in particular, it was just about Mori and his poor humanity while navigating how to lead. Everything just clicked with that.

(Dazai, Chuuya, age Fifteen)

This right here is where Mori tells us what he thinks his position means after the struggling we visibly see him go through. Is it an inherently correct conclusion to make? No, but does it make sense as someone who’s a leader of a huge, dangerous underground criminal organization? Yes, it does.

We have no backstory on Mori, but his poor humanity is easy to explain when he’s been in positions that require him to disregard his own and everyone else’s humanity for years now. As someone who’s seen war up close and a physician, these jobs require him to take control of the other person. Well in his mind at least, he sees these jobs and chooses to the route that’s most efficient.

It’s never positioned to be for himself though, he doesn’t take glee in what he does for self serving purposes, it’s always for the country, the city, the organization. His thought process is never the power hungry yearning we see everyone mistake it for. It’s never that he wants it, it’s that he needs it for everything to go well.

That’s exactly how he treats Yosano because even though it’s creepy to base your abilities looks on a little girl, that doesn’t stop him from seeing her use before her age and humanity.

His clinical utilitarianism is his core trait but also most disliked one from what I can tell in the fandom, and people tend to misinterpret it to make the more non-favorable view of him. But again, he’s not supposed to be the greatest guy ever and you can understand where these traits started forming. And again, to paraphrase another’s words: he’s cunning, but not power hungry.

He’s also not disliked by his subordinates and actually respected, he respectively enjoys the company, but there’s a mixed answer to that and that it is… nobody is going to listen to you if you don’t treat them with decency. Why would you expect a tool to work if you break them? One of his earliest lessons he learned with Yosano and leadership.

(Dazai, Chuuya, Age Fifteen)

For example, we all know this scene is manipulation. He’s baiting Chuuya with information while still treating the teenager with respect and enough honesty to form a bond. Chuuya is perfectly aware that he’s being used in the present and in the past, but he respects Mori as a leader objectively after his own considered failure and lack of control over the sheep, even if he didn’t consider himself one. I don’t think this honesty comes from nowhere because that quote, “only a Diamond can polish a Diamond”, came from Natsume in reference to himself and Fukuzawa.

He sees himself and Fukuzawa in Soukoku fondly, but I tend to rethink this quote time to time because at first it comes off as a quote about partnership and building off of each other’s good qualities to perfect their own, but the way Mori uses it here feels as though it’s positioned to mean that one of them comes out perfected and the other weared down. Pretty competitive if you think about it.

(Bungou Stray Dogs BEAST)

We’re finally at the part you’ve been waiting for guys! So what was my point for analyzing canonverse Mori? So as I said before, these are the exact same guy and all that word jumble? That was an extended version of what was communicated with me to finally get what was going on with Mori in this universe and why he’s suddenly in an orphanage.

Now I couldn’t tell what was going through Beast Dazai’s mind and where this decision came from instead of actually killing him like the rumor’s implied, but I can come close. I think that Beast Dazai recognized this potential of change either from the multitude of universes he was able to witness or recognized it in his own considering canonverse Dazai never does anything against Mori (even if he visibly dislikes him).

Possibility is one thing, the why is another. It was either that he saw potential and good that could come out of this in the long run, Mori’s intelligence and expertise still proves usefulness, less dangerous for Oda in the long run if he let Mori stay there instead of the Mafia, or all three.

I can say for sure though that this is better for Mori because after the years of being in atmospheres that require so much of him intelligently and exempt of any emotion involved for the sake of efficiency, being able to rekindle his humanity where nothing is expected of him except to raise kids in a non-exploitative context sounds really freeing to me. Considering he’s been there for 4 years, I find the development understandable.

Okay I’m hearing what you guys are saying again, “What about him saying he wanted to save Dazai? That doesn’t seem like typical Mori.” And I’m gonna say something really controversial: Well maybe he did.

Really though, I think he did care about Dazai and not because he saw a child struggling (think about Yosano and Q for 3 seconds), but because he saw himself in Dazai, which ultimately changed way more about their relationship than you guys think. There’s a lot of comparisons to Yosano and I understand where they come from because I think there’s a lot you can see similarities in, but Dazai is not purely a tool for Mori the way she was.

The avoidance of letting him die do come from his use and overall importance to the original plan of becoming the new boss, but I don’t think he would’ve left Dazai alone like that for 4 whole years after leaving the mafia if he didn’t care in some way way. What strikes me the most is how Asagiri decided to add “the man who raised Dazai”.

For Beast Mori, I think he’s had enough time to actually feel guilt and regret for Dazai as a person like a normal human being does. Oh I guess Elise is important too. Her aging up just meant that Mori has become less controlling and not like the little girl who he literally sees as a tool since kids are easier to manipulate. Can’t bring that energy to an orphanage, nope!

There’s better stuff out there about Mori that I think if you’re more open to thinking about Mori after this, you should check it out, these are just my thoughts recently. To end this off, here are two links to Asagiri’s own thoughts on Mori.

#bsd #bsd analysis #(?) kind of #bsd meta #bungou stray dogs #mori ougai #bsd beast #bungou stray dogs beast #dazai osamu #bsd dazai chūya age fifteen #I’m not gonna pretend for two seconds that this guy is some misunderstood hero #but he’s less as bad as fanon portrays him #and don’t take my words as him saying he ALWAYS has everyone’s best interest #he just says he does #shit guys wait I just realized this is my first contribution??? to this fandom??? oh well

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multiplicity-positivity · 8 months

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Sorry if this ask gets broken or send more than once, tumblr likes to crash on my phone a lot oops!

Anyhoo, any advice for creating a headmate?

We're a traumagenic system, so we never had any control over when we split new headmates. But I'm a fictive of someone who's a twin and I really miss my brother and would really really love it if he could join us in the headspace, I think he would really like my headmates and they would be very receptive of him <:) I talked to the others about it and they said they think its okay for me to try as long as we do so in a healthy way.

But I dont know how to split a new headmate in a healthy way. Im obviously not going to purposely put us through stress and/or trauma to encourage a traumagenic formation, that'd be unhealthy. BUT I dont know how to help form a headmate in a non-traumagenic way... Do you have any advice or tips? I know theres lots of ways to willingly form new headmates, but I dont really know how to utilize them.

Thank you so much in advance!!

Hi! This is pretty tricky, and in general we’d advise traumagenic systems to make sure they’re in a safe place/have made significant progress towards recovery before attempting to create a headmate. There’s a lot of ways something like this could go very wrong if proper care is not taken! That being said, you do know yourself and your system better than anyone else! So if you and your system believe attempting to create a headmate is the right thing to do and the best move for your system, we’re wishing you the best of luck, and have some resources we can share.

All of the best resources we’ve found so far we’ve compiled in our resources post for questioning systems.

That post ^ has a whole section for plurality that is non-dissociative disorder specific, with tons of links to guides and resources on how to go about creating a headmate. The paromancy (called “tulpamancy” in the links) guides are probably the most comprehensive, with tons of information on creating a paro/thoughtform, which is a type of nontraumagenic headmate.

Y’all might also find it easier and less high-stakes to visualize this person as an imaginary friend or an aspect of your headspace. Lots of systems have NPCs in their headspace which have limited autonomy, but aren’t actually full-fledged system members. You can visualize an NPC in the same way you visualize a setting or object as a part of a headspace - we have a little headspace primer which we’ll link below which might help if you choose to go this route!

If you start out with this potential headmate as an imaginary friend, and they ultimately start to feel like a part of the system, there’s a term for that! It’s called imagi, and you can read a bit more about it on Pluralpedia:

Hopefully this helps at least give you somewhat of a starting point! And if we may, a final word of caution:

Creating a headmate is a big deal. Often this is something that will last forever, and cannot be easily reversed. What is so so important to understand, is that once this headmate can think for themself and are afforded some autonomy and agency, they may make decisions or choose to be something that no one in your system ever would have anticipated.

This means thy may want to separate from their source. They may not act, look, or view themselves the way the twin from your source would have. They may not arrive with source memories, and may not see themselves as your twin at all. In many systems, headmates act and function as their own individuals, and feel happiest when they have their own agency and get to make choices about how they present and interact with the world. This means, there is a chance that any headmate you create won’t live up to the standards you’ve set for them beforehand. We’re not saying this sort of thing will happen 100%! But there definitely is a chance of this occurring, so it’s best to be prepared in case it does.

In the end, this is your choice and a choice to be made by your system! We just hope y’all are understanding the consequences of doing something like this, and know that no matter how you envision your new headmate at the beginning, there’s nothing certain that will keep them that way as they grow and develop on their own. We hope your potential new headmate will be understood, valued, and respected for who they are as they are, and not who others hoped for them to be!

Sorry this got so long! Good luck with everything! We hope this process goes as smoothly for you and your system as it can!

🌸 Margo and 👻 Ghost

#long post #nontraumagenic #headmate creation #created headmate

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somnambulants · 3 years

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hi!! i was just wondering if i could request more yelena where yelena introduces her gf to natasha and her family and she’s uncharacteristically nervous so nat finds it amusing? thank you :)

a bit of minor surgery

summary: Yelena tries to keep you to herself but her family has other ideas word count: 1.7K notes: so this is a little different to what you asked for but i hope you still like it! for the sake of this, nat, yelena, alexei and melina are just one happy family

“But if we –"

Natasha holds up a hand and Yelena stops talking. “Do you hear that?”

It’s faint but there’s the sound of someone moving around on her apartment floor. Being the only person who lives on this floor and one of the few in this building is enough for this to raise the hairs on the back of her neck.

Survival for them has always meant constant vigilance.

Both of their heads swivel towards the front door as the footsteps become louder, very clearly approaching her apartment.

Yelena doesn’t have to look to know Natasha is mirroring her, pulling out her gun and scanning every entry-way for possible intruders.

On edge, Yelena presses herself against the door, readying herself until she listens properly and realises the approaching footsteps sound familiar.

Somehow, she feels herself relax and become even more tense at the same time.

“Stop,” she says as Natasha moves towards the door as well, holding an arm out to stop her. “It’s okay. I know who it is.”

At her words Natasha relaxes, putting her gun away but she watches her face carefully as she does so.

The panic Yelena can feel building inside her must not be as well hidden as she thought because a slow grin spreads across her face as the sound of a gentle knock echoes through Yelena’s apartment.

“Is it..?”

“Yes,” Yelena replies curtly. “And no. You can’t meet them.”

Natasha gives her a wicked look, clicking her teeth together teasingly. “What? Scared I’ll…eat them?”

She snickers as Yelena reaches out and shoves her hard enough to knock the air out of her while also giving her a firm and clear: im going to kill you if you don't listen to me look as she goes to open the door.

Not that it's ever stopped Natasha before.

“Just stay there,” Yelena hisses and then wrenches the door open, finding you behind it with your hand still mid-air, prepared to knock a second time.

“Y/N!”

“Hi,” you say, looking a little startled but smiling at her none the less as you drop your hand.

Beside her and thankfully, just out of your view, Natasha, to her credit, is silent but Yelena can feel her gaze glued to her face and can especially feel the amusement radiating off her in waves.

She grits her teeth, forcing a smile. Your own fades a little as you take her in. “Is this a bad time?”

“No,” Yelena says quickly. Still out of sight, Natasha lets out a huff of laughter just quiet enough that she hopes she’s the only one that hears her.

“Not at all,” she adds, and since the door covers most of her body, it’s safe for her to reach out and pinch Natasha on the arm. Which is what she does. Hard. “Just --give me a second?”

Clearly still puzzled, you nod and Yelena closes the door, giving you a smile that she has a feeling looks more like a grimace.

Next she grabs Natasha by the arm and starts walking her forcibly towards the window. “Out.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow as she pulls them to an abrupt stop, looking at her then looking out the window. “You seriously want me to scale ten stories because you’re an idiot?”

As an answer, Yelena unlocks the latch and lets the window sweep open, giving her a pointed look that says: Yes. Obviously.

Natasha rolls her eyes but to Yelena’s relief, she slides out the window.

“неудачник,” is all she says in parting before she disappears, dropping down the stairwell and vanishing from sight completely.

The word lingers in the air after her: Loser.

Yelena scowls after her for a second before she rushes back to the door and opens it, letting out a sigh of relief when she sees you’re still there, standing in the same spot.

“Sorry,” she apologises, swinging the door open. “There was just a uh, complication....a spider. I caught it and put it outside. I know you hate them.”

As she speaks, you slowly raise one eyebrow at her. The other quickly follows and it's then that she notices the narrowed look in your eyes.

When you start speaking, your voice is low and scarily calm. “So it has nothing to do with the woman I just made eye contact with as she was climbing down your fire escape?”

Something Yelena is proud to say is that in her life there have been very few times she’s been at a loss for words.

This however is one of them.

She stares at you, blankly, knowing her panic must be showing on her face by the way your expression progressively becomes darker and darker as seconds pass and she fumbles frantically for something to say.

“I, uh, she is, she, uh –”

“—Natasha Romanoff. Nice to meet you.”

To her credit, Natasha has always been the stealthier of the two of them. Ignoring that fact, Yelena chooses to believe that her being distracted by you is why she doesn’t hear her coming back up the stairwell.

She also chooses to believe that she didn’t visibly jump at the sound of her voice and that the cough Natasha lets out is genuine and not covering up a laugh that says she’s going to mock her mercilessly for this entire thing later.

Of course, Yelena can’t fool herself but she tries anyway.

You look even more unimpressed as Natasha comes to a stop beside her and it clicks in Yelena’s head that you think her and Natasha – her and Natasha. She can’t even finish the thought.

As funny as it is, she doesn’t let herself laugh, knowing instinctively that it’s not a good idea. The flinty look in your eyes just confirms how much of a not good idea that is.

Just because you weren’t raised like her doesn’t mean that you couldn’t pack a punch; something she learned early on in your relationship when she’d accidentally snuck up on you once. She’d had a black eye for weeks after that.

“Natasha is my --” she isn’t sure how to say: ‘this is the woman I was trained to kill people with while we grew up being tortured and experimented on, remember I told you?’ In a way that won’t make you go running for the hills.

As she trails off, Natasha, sensing her panic, jumps in. Yelena knows that internally, she must be laughing hysterically though to her merit, she keeps it to herself. “I’m her… sister. Of sorts.”

You know about her past – all of what she was willing to repeat of it anyway – so comprehension quickly dawns on your face.

“Then why…?”

She watches as Natasha’s mouth twitches, sounding amused as she directly addresses you: “Well... my sister is an idiot. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

Yelena tenses as you give her a once over, raking your eyes over her consideringly, before you turn back to Natasha. “I may have noticed that. Yes.”

"Hey," Yelena protests, weakly. "That's not fair."

You give her a pointed look and she falls silent. Resigned to her fate, she lets out a sigh.

She can tell from the matching scheming looks brewing in both your own and Natasha’s eyes that this is only going to be the start of her own personal torment.

The one thing she really, really hates about her family is that they have this habit of showing up unannounced – you’d think that the whole being assassins and consequently, a little trigger happy as a result would make someone call ahead but no.

Never.

For this reason, it comes as no surprise when there’s the familiar three tap repetitive secret knock knock knock they had all come up with years ago on her front door early the following morning.

Silently, Yelena prays you don’t hear it and stay asleep as she drags herself out of bed and prepares herself for what she’s about to deal with.

Truthfully, she’s a little surprised that they’d had enough tact to wait until morning. She’d half expected them to be knocking her door down the second Natasha relayed last nights events to them.

Yanking the door open, she comes face-to-face with Alexei and Melina. Taking them both in and cataloguing mentally that they look alive and uninjured, she lets herself glare at both of them.

“Is something wrong?”

They both frown. “No?”

“Okay I’m closing the door then.”

She starts to swing it shut but it’s quickly caught as Alexei shoves a foot in between it and the doorframe, giving her a reproachful look.

“Is your –”

“Yes,” Yelena interrupts, scowling harder than before, if that was even possible. “Now, leave.”

The look on Alexei’s face shifts, now suddenly a little too much on the wrong side of sneaky. “Can we—”

“No.”

“But–"

“I don’t care. You can’t meet them,” she barks, probably too loudly, as she shoves him back out into the hallway. If she has to throw them bodily out of here, she will. It just would likely attract your attention, which is the opposite of what she wants. “They’re asleep.”

“We can wake them,” he suggests, unhelpfully.

Yelena glares at him harder. “No.”

It’s faint but all of a sudden, she can hear the sound of a door squeaking as it opens. Her bedroom door to be more exact. Your voice calling out to her quickly follows.

“Okay,” she says. “I’m closing the door now.”

“Hey, no wait –” Alexei starts to protest. Yelena closes the door firmly in their faces and is working on dead-bolting it just as you appear in her line of sight.

You blink at her blearily, wearing just one of her T-shirts and nothing else. Thank god she hadn’t let them in. “Who was that?”

“Neighbours,” Yelena lies. “Looking for their …cat.”

Still half asleep, you don’t think to question her and she sags against the door in relief as you venture into the kitchen in search of coffee.

To her relief, there are no subsequent persistent knocks or calls through the door and after a second, she can hear the quiet sound of footsteps and Alexei’s grumbling as they retreat.

Natasha is one thing – their parents or pseudo-parents or whatever they are – are another thing entirely. She’d save that one for another day.

Or never, preferably.

#yelena belova x reader

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atlabeth · 3 years

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neighborly things - sokka x fem!reader

summary: reader can’t make things for shit. thankfully, she has a cute and crafty neighbor willing to help her.

a/n: im so sorry lmao. i have requests and i have 2 series that havent been updated in like a month but sometimes i just need to write a stupid little oneshot to get back in the writing mood. i did this in an hour

im not a screwdriver expert so dont come at me if some of this info is wrong lmao

wc: 1.6k

warning(s): some cursing but otherwise pure fluff. also i didnt proofread im SORRY im pretty sure they laugh grin and smile like 200 times

“Dammit!”

Anyone unfortunate enough to have a place near you during this time would have heard the phrase on more than twenty occasions, and it wasn’t even noon yet. You had gotten the parts in the mail to put together a new dresser a couple days ago, and had finally decided to take on the task. You didn’t know if it was because you were inexperienced with furniture or just lacked basic comprehension skills, but it was proving to be no less than Herculean.

You threw the screwdriver at the wall and fell back to the floor as you let your arms sprawl out above you. You had been trying to screw in a part for no less than thirty minutes, and if a miracle didn’t happen right about now, you were going to lose your mind.

Your head snapped towards the door when she heard a knock, and your brows creased. “God?” You muttered as you got up, wondering if you had actually thought a miracle into existence.

You weren’t greeted by a deity when you opened the door, but the man standing in front of you was pretty damn close. With ocean blue eyes, hair pulled back in a ponytail with shaved sides, and toned arms, he was a sight to behold. But you had no idea why he was in front of your door.

“Hey, are you okay?” He questioned, genuine concern in his tone.

“Um, yeah, why?” You were trying to rack your brain for any memory of this guy — because you knew you would remember him if you had seen him before — but to no avail. “Also, who are you and why are you here?”

“Right,” he chuckled. “My name’s Sokka. I’m your neighbor; I live—” he gestured at the door just next to your place, “—over there. Moved in a couple weeks ago, so that’s probably why you don’t know me. I’ve just been hearing a lot of cursing and loud noises coming from your place, so I figured I would stop in and see what was going on.”

“Oh. That’s.. very considerate of you, Sokka. I’m just…” you sighed and chuckled at the ridiculousness of it all. “I’m just trying to put together a dresser, and it’s not going well at all. That latest sound you heard was the culmination of my rage. I threw a screwdriver at the wall.”

“Yeah, that’ll do it,” he laughed. “Listen. I don’t wanna intrude on you or anything, but I happen to be pretty good at putting things together. I had to do a lot of furniture construction when I first moved in, plus I’m the one all my friends call when they need help with putting anything together. I could probably help you with whatever’s troubling you.”

“Are you serious?”

“Oh, no. I just go door to door joking around with people, asking if they need help with their furniture, sometimes I ask if their refrigerator is running? It really gets a kick out of them.”

You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly and stepped aside so he could enter your apartment. “Thank you so much, Sokka. I’ve read the instructions a million times, I seriously don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

He crouched down and picked up the manual, turning to a dog-eared page and skimming over the instructions. He pointed at the screwdriver you had thrown against the wall and glanced back at you. “Is that the one you’ve been using?”

You closed and locked the door behind him then walked over to the wall, picking up the unfortunate victim of your anger and spinning it in your hands. “Yeah, why?”

“Do you know what kind it is?”

“Um.. maybe? God, I don’t know. I think it’s a Phillip’s head?”

Sokka laughed and shook his head, holding up the manual so you could see it. “That’s where you’re going wrong. You need a Pozidriv for these screws — they’re similar enough that anyone can make a mistake.”

You stared at Sokka in complete amazement — apparently, your savior lived next door, and he came in the form of a handsome guy with basic knowledge on putting furniture together. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you said as you walked over and took the booklet from himl. You flipped through it a couple times and read over the part, shaking your head in disbelief.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” you repeated, louder this time. “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get that thing to- to work, to screw, to— whatever you call it?”

“It’s actually to—”

“Thirty minutes!” You interrupted, earning a small chuckle from Sokka. “Thirty damn minutes that I have been trying to get that screw in, and it’s all because I was using the wrong screwdriver. Why would they make screwdrivers that are so similar but aren’t interchangeable?!”

He shrugged and held up his hands. “Don’t ask me — I don’t make the rules, I just follow them. But like I said; this dresser might fall apart if you keep using this thing. I actually have a Pozidriv back at my place, I can go get it and we can finish this up together.”

“God, that would be the biggest help,” you admitted. “But I don’t wanna take up your time — I don’t know how I would even repay you.”

“I’m doing this because I want to help you,” he said. “You don’t have to repay me. Think of it as… as a neighborly thing.”

“A neighborly thing?” you repeated with a laugh. “Well, if you’re offering, I’m definitely not going to refuse.”

“I am offering,” Sokka winked. “And unless you want to be at this for another three days, I think you should take that offer.”

You pretended to deliberate over it before letting out an exaggerated sigh. “I guess I’ll let you help me. I mean, really you should be thanking me for this brilliant opportunity to, um.. hone your skills.”

He laughed, a brilliant sound that made your heart sing, and nodded as he went back to the door. “Thank you so much for letting me put together this dresser. Truly, it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Then I’m happy to be of assistance.”

Sokka grinned then unlocked and opened the door. “I’ll be right back, then we can get started.”

Once he got back, the two of you got to work. The next three hours passed so quickly as you and Sokka talked about everything from the work you did to people in your lives (no girlfriend, thankfully), to exchanging stories — even the silence, though rare, was comfortable.

Sokka pushed the last drawer into its place then clapped his hands as he stood up, admiring the fruits of your labor. “And that’s it! We’re done.”

“Wait, we’re done? Already?” You set down the instruction manual and stood up as well, backing up to Sokka’s position to see what he saw. “Wow, that looks.. that looks just like the picture. We are good at this! Well, you’re really good at this, I’m good at keeping you entertained. But still!”

You held your hand up for a high five and he laughed, but not without meeting it with a satisfying clap.

“It does look pretty good,” he admitted. “And not only do you have a brand new, fully functioning dresser, you also had the priceless experience of spending three hours with the neighbor you know nothing about.”

“That’s not true,” you countered. “I know that you’re really good at putting things together, you’re a genius when it comes to anything math or science, and you hate blueberries.”

Sokka snickered and brushed his hands off on his jeans. “That’s everything there is to know.”

“I dunno, Sokka. You seem like a pretty interesting guy.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s not every day that someone offers to put together a whole dresser just because they feel bad.”

“Well—” he tore off a blank part of the instruction manual and picked up a spare pen from the counter, then put it up against the wall as he scribbled something on it. Sokka put the pen down and handed the slip of paper to you with a smile. “If you ever need any more help with furniture, then call me.”

You could feel your cheeks heat up as you took the paper. Your fingers brushed ever so slightly as you took the slip of paper, and you decided to just go for it. You bit back a grin and tried to sound as innocuous as possible. “And if I want to get to know you beyond the blueberries?”

Sokka laughed and leaned against the doorframe. “Definitely call me.”

“Great.”

The two of you smiled at each other like idiots for way too long before a notification from his phone broke the silence. He jumped from the sudden noise and dug his phone out of his pocket, giving you an apologetic look. “Sorry, my sister just texted me and I gotta get over to her place.” Sokka started towards the door then paused and turned around. “I actually had a lot of fun doing this, though. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You knew you had that same smile on your face, but it just wouldn’t go away. His energy was contagious. “Definitely.”

“Great.” He winked at you one last time then left, closing the door behind him, and finally snapping you out of your spell.

You leaned against the dresser and stared at the slip of paper in your hands, committing the number to memory.

You were definitely going to take him up on that offer.

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin

#avatar the last airbender #avatar #atla #avatar the last airbender fic #atla fic #avatar fic #sokka #sokka atla #sokka avatar #sokka fic #sokka x reader #sokka x reader fic #sokka x you #sokka x y/n #avatar x reader #avatar the last airbender x reader #sadie writes

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rotshop · 3 years

Text

get prankt this isn't an angst fic lol ,,

ANYWAY ,, i realized earlier that i could've just been calling 'auditor reader' employer reader this whole time and then i had a funny silly goofy little idea and now we r here,,,lol,,, ill proof read this later but i did this in one go no breaks so . help.

I might continue this later so!! consider this a sort of 'introduction' if u will,,

note ; auditor uses he / she / they pronouns in this bc ive decided im just going to push my propaganda onto all of you <333 also Hank uses he / they / xe

tw ; dissociation, dereality, some light body horror

Bloody Management

"This is out of your jurisdiction. You've wasted enough time here," you seethed dryly, staring down at the shorter being. "You've made no progress and have only proved your operation to be a strain on our relations and resources."

"Out of MY jurisdiction? YOU'VE never even been there before! You think you can just storm in and suddenly kick me out of my own work?" Auditor shot back, hands slamming down on the mahogany desk in front of her.

"Yes, actually, I do," you snapped, eyes narrowing. "I think you're forgetting just who you're speaking to. You've let this drag on for far too long and your ego has grown in tandem with its pointlessness."

Sighing, you leaned back in your chair, pinching the bridge of your nose as you continued. "Look, I understand. You put effort and thought into this little pet project of yours, but the results have all proven zilch. You fucked up, that's fine, but you can't keep meddling with this reality in hopes something will suddenly work again! All you're doing is tearing and poking holes the rest of us will have to deal with later."

"If you just gave me a little more time I could-"

"We've been giving you time. We've given you more time than we've ever given any project like yours," you gave a desperate look, "It's over. You tried and we tried, there's nothing that can be done. If you just worked with us then we could help you."

There was a long silence as they faltered, hands falling into their lap as their gaze followed, landing on the floor.

"And what happens to my Nevada?"

"We'll try and clean it up again. Return it to..some sort of normalcy," you hummed, "Though, with some of those tears in the fabric it'll take a bit longer than anticipated. That..clown, is proving to be rather difficult."

You paused, grin finding it's way onto your face.

"It's been tricky, if you will."

"Not the time."

You gave a 'tsk' in response, shrugging lightly, "I don't regret it."

"You'll be going back to our depths, effective immediately. While this project was a failure, we're still curious to see if there's anything else that can be done in a different time and place."

"And what about you? Are you going to sit all pretty in this fake office for the rest of eternity?" She questioned sarcastically, eyes dragging up to meet yours.

"God, I wish. I mean, seriously, you have no idea how nice it is to have some peace and quiet after dealing with that fuckin' office."

With a dry snicker and -presumably- an eye roll, they finally stood accepting their defeat.

"I presume I'll be seeing you?"

"If your little posse doesn't cause me too much trouble, yes."

"Have fun with that, I do hope it's as grueling as possible," he hummed, turning and striding towards the door to nothing.

"Thanks, was nice seeing you too."

The door peering to the void shuts soundlessly.

"Was the pun really that bad?.."

---

"What do you mean they're just neutral suddenly? It's not like they all just suddenly unionized or sum' shit! There's gotta be something going on," Deimos groaned, irritation dragging onto him and clinging desperately.

"Well- What do you want me to say! I'm just as confused as you are," Sanford huffed back over comms, making a vague gesture with no audience.

Hank stood in the other room, staring down at the few agents that were on their knees with their hands held tight behind their heads. They'd made no attempt to attack Sanford and xem, simply staring in a bit of surprise when the two'd busted in. It'd completely thrown the raid off, leaving them both in a state of stunned confusion. The agent that they'd asked about the sudden change in demeanor just gave some shaky shrug, stammering out that they'd all received an order to not attack under any circumstances from some unknown contact. 'They really just listen to anyone then?..'

It was hard to believe, hard to find any reason or meaning in that lead to any conclusive endings. Which, had lead to a small dispute going nowhere and fast. Hank only picked up on little parts of it, the words being muffled and distorted through the wall. Xe didn't really have much interest in getting a clearer reading of it though, it didn't sound like it meant much.

"Look, I'm just going to try and look for any documents or actual recordings of this apparent 'ghost order,' alright?..." A pause. "Deimos? Are you there? Shit- Of course the line dies now of all times."

The line wasn't dead. It was somewhere else, some-when else.

---

The ground felt cold.

No, was it warm?

Wait- No no no, it wasn't warm..

Was it even the ground?

Did it even matter?

Deimos could fuzzily recall it. Arguing with Sanford over the line. The points he made exactly didn't seem to ring through the fog of confusion and numb in his mind. Something about the Auditor, the agents, blah bla..something.

He'd been making to say something else when he'd seen it, something off in the corner of his eye. It wasn't anything huge, if you asked him he wouldn't even be able to tell you what it was. There was something wrong, but there wasn't. The ground was cold, but it was warm.

Something was wrong.

Everything is fine.

He'd turned around, looking around for whatever in his vision wasn't right.

That's rude to say, you know.

He'd never found it, something reaching from the depths to grab him.

You're making me sound awfully cruel.

With a groan, he picked himself up off the ground to observe his surroundings. White and black stretched infinitely around him, the 'ground' underneath him was the deepest of not-color while the 'sky' was its blinding twin. A building stood in front of him, a mix of ivory and ink twisted to form its structure. The door faced him, standing tall and straight as a soldier in spite of how tilted and off the world felt.

Before he could even really register it, something was pulling him up off the floor. There were no hands or strings physically attached, nothing sticking from him to drag into the infinite beyond his comprehension, no no. It was something quiet, a ghost or a whisper in his mind that pulled him through the ocean and to shore. The door grew larger- closer. His mind grew blanker. His hand twisted the knob.

Color flooded into his vision finally, the room in front of him coated in it graciously. The floors were a velvet carpeting, a wine red that felt of lavish and glitzy. The walls were lined in bookshelves, each filled to the brim with titles somewhere between poetry and latin white noise where imagination fell. At the head of the room stood a desk, polished mahogany standing tall and still, frozen indefinitely in time. Behind it, you.

Me.

Once again, he was pulled forward. Each step fell in front of the other, unsure of weight behind them and noise that followed suite. He felt half there. Half of a man and half of a void. It was..something.

Not pleasant, not bad.

The ground wasn't cold, wasn't warm.

It just was.

He finds himself meeting your gaze as he plops down into one of the seats in front of you. He finds his neck straining and bowing under phantom limbs that aren't there. He finds his eyes training on yours which stare back pointedly, finds himself between hot and cold. He finds himself sitting down before you as he watches from the window.

There's no window in the room.

"You must be so confused."

Your voice is in front of him, right? That's where you are, so your voice should be coming from there. It isn't though. It's around him somewhere. Even as you tilt your head to the side the noise of your own voice doesn't seem to follow it.

"Don't think too much on this all, alright?"

You mutter something. 'These grunts really weren't made for this- to be here. I'm surprised he even woke up.'

Someone nods in agreement.

"Wh..who are you?"

Is that his voice? It is. It has to be, it fell from his own mouth. He barely even felt it move. Is it his mouth? It has to be.

You pause for a moment, seemingly caught off guard. He doesn't know if its because he spoke or because of what he asked. Nobody clarifies.

"Why don't you call me [name]? That'll be easiest for you. I do apologize for dragging you here rather than appearing there," you hum, leaning forward on your desk. "I just wanted to make sure we had the utmost privacy."

I wanted to make sure you wouldn't be able to forget.

"Now, Deimos," is that his name? "I need to tell you something, I have to work on restoring things for you, so I can't deliver this message to everyone myself in the most..effective of ways. You won't mind filling your friends in for me, right?"

He doesn't answer. He can't. His tongue is lead and his mouth is stuck shut, if he opens it will surely be left that way for the rest of infinity- for the rest of this place, this time. Someone says yes in his voice.

"Good. Now, try to listen carefully..."

---

He wakes up on sand. He's sitting up quickly, stilted as his mind finds his body. His tongue is lighter, teeth separated once more as his jaws are their own entities again. The cliff is still under him, wind passing by him peacefully. The horizon stretches infinite.

The ground is warm, there's no mistaking it.

"Deimos? Are you there?"

He pauses briefly.

"I need to tell you guys something."

#deimos x reader #SORTA???????#I MEAN. U GASLIGHT GATEKEEP GIRLBOSS HIS ASS SO LIKE. TAKE THAT AS U WILL...#idk he's definitely in gay love w/ you but like in that 'aha hey bestie what if we kisses and you were a cosmic horror :flushed:'#madness combat imagines #madness combat x reader #madcom imagines #madcom x reader #auditor reader #employer reader #<- gonna be usin that tag too now ig??

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domosakis · 3 years

Text

[TARO-222] insatiable, pure love!

★ this is inspired by a hentai that was turned into a porn LOL i pretty much just rewrote it the whole first half but then i get bored of it and made it my own story at the end so sorry if its confusing but i spent a lot of time on it so i hope you like it!! ♡

✭ words: 1.9k !! cw: extreme dubcon, borderline noncon, i can't tell who is insane in this story, toxic relationship, assault, public sex, reader is feminized, lmk if i forgot smth omg im so sorry

‘i didn’t really want to do it… at the beginning.’

at least shotaro tells himself that, whether it’s true or not. he took the train home after practice like always but you were there. you looked so cute in your uniform but he couldn’t help but notice how sensual your body made you look. plaid skirt barely reaching the top of your thighs and a thin white blouse that might as well have been made with tissue.

he was addicted as soon as he saw you. he felt the need to go home right away, thoughts of making you scream plaguing his mind. stress, deadlines, the pressure of his academy… he deserved a little happiness right?

suddenly the train stopped and shotaro took the opportunity to dramatically fall towards you, your back against his. his hand pressed against your ass, moving your skirt up showing your panties to anyone who looked your way.

his inner monologue was just a stream of excuses he made to keep touching you. so soft… and even though he knows it’s not right he doesn’t make even an attempt to stop.

‘again… another idiot.’

you wondered how far he would go today, after all you did need to get home and start preparing dinner. you didn’t resist instead letting your mind wander to your daily chores and responsibilities, you just hoped your stop came soon.

suddenly you were yanked out of your thoughts, your body carelessly being tossed into the position he wanted and his hands came to grab at your breasts. he wasn’t gentle at all in the way he handled you but at least he wasn’t being completely rude. you’d let him do what he wanted as long as he stayed quiet. he’s not really hurting me like the others so what’s the worst that could happen?

shotaro let himself get brave, after all you weren’t denying him. if anything you were making it too easy. he let his hand slip under your panties to feel your cunt directly. he only grew more confident when he felt how wet you were.

you didn’t understand why you felt this way, you could say it was your body’s natural reaction but then how did you end up with this stranger in the love hotel down the street?

strange men doing what they wanted to you wasn't what you would call a foreign experience. maybe it was because you didn’t dress all that modestly, maybe it was your body or maybe you were just an easy target. whatever it was you definitely weren’t able to defend yourself from it and you ended up in a lot of rough situations.

this felt different though. okay sure so maybe he still molested you on the train without any communication but… he looked your age, and cute, and he didn’t call you mean names or hit you, and he even took you to this nice hotel instead of taking you against the urinal in a seedy bathroom!

maybe you needed to raise your standards.

whatever. it was too late now, this man (whose name you still didn’t now) had you laid underneath him, playing with your body however he wanted and you got the slight feeling he hadn’t touched anybody else in awhile at least. he took his time massaging your tits and all you could do was writhe beneath him.

“do you feel good?” shotaro asked you once he had your top half completely bare. you didn’t answer and turned your head to the side to avoid his gaze.

“no? your nipples are so hard though…” it was true your body was responding to everything he did but you didn’t want him to know that. still, it didn’t do much to deter him and suddenly his hands reached to pin yours next to your head, his mouth attaching itself to your breast.

you couldn’t help but moan out then, your hips bucking to meet his. your body had never been played with like this before and you needed more. he complimented your body and it made your heart swell in a twisted way.

“fuck. why are you so wet?” he laughed at you but you were distracted by his fingers playing with your clothed clit.

“you’re so cute, i need to see more.” you could barely see only feeling him spread your legs apart and taking off your panties roughly leaving only your skirt bunched around your waist. and before you knew it he was fucking into you.

‘this can’t be bad right?’ shotaro thought. ‘they’re so wet they must be enjoying this’

he could barely hold himself back grabbing onto the skirt around you and using it to fuck his dick into you harder. his thrusts were fast and unrelenting and you tried to say no but nothing comprehensible came out of your mouth.

you could already feel him deep within you and you thought you would cry once he pushed your leg to your chest, taking you sideways.

“no i can’t! i can’t!” you managed to cry out but it didn’t matter anyways, if anything it felt like it made him go harder. he let himself stay deep inside you for a bit, enjoying the way your body twitched around him before flipping you onto your stomach.

he took his time teasing you, rubbing the head of his cock against your cunt until he finally listened to you begging him to stop. you were so far gone at that point only able to focus on the feeling of his cock rubbing against your walls. it was almost painful how fast he rubbed against you but his tip was reaching inside you so well.

you almost felt yourself losing consciousness before he pulled out, cumming across your tits and letting some hit your face. your body wouldn’t stop twitching and you realized you had cum as well, the feeling of your pussy clenching around nothing making you feel outrageously empty.

you expected to open your eyes to an empty room, left alone to clean yourself up and get home. instead you were very surprised to see the same man who had fucked you to the edge on his knees, his hands together begging for forgiveness.

“i’m so sorry! please forgive me!” you could hear him mumbling to himself and you almost felt bad for him.

“i’m so terrible, and i didn’t even use a condom… if you get pregnant… i’m so sorry!”

you had quite literally never been in this situation before and you were afraid the man was about to burst into tears.

“uhm… it doesn’t matter really.” you said before looking away. now shotaro was taken aback so you kept going before he could say anything.

“well it does matter, you shouldn’t assault girls but uhm…” you had no idea how to explain this.

“truthfully it’s really easy for me to be attracted to you, and i’ve gone through a lot worse…” you started going into detail about your past experiences and shotaro was growing increasingly confused and worried about your mental state.

“anyways today felt different, like you didn’t cum inside me! that’s a first and… i even came. i felt like you were gentle.” shotaros mind started to reel at the idea of the things you would let him get away with if you thought that was gentle and even when you’re praising him for doing less then the bare minimum he could only think of worse things. truly terrible.

you kept going.

“i won’t call the police and… i felt really good today.”

shotaro thought he was going to die, he just assaulted you and you were saying these things. he could feel himself getting hard again and before he could stop it he was back on top of you.

you liked it. someone like you was actually attracted to someone like him. he couldn’t pass the chance to take you again. he was going to play with you as much as you let him.

after shotaro had once again taken you how he liked he, once again, went through the five stages of grief begging for your forgiveness. you were too fucked out to comfort him at the point and he quickly left leaving you with fare for the ride home.

he decided to leave the whole incident behind him, citing it as a life lesson learned. (even though he should’ve known that assault was bad without having to do it but, whatever.) he promised himself that he would forget about that kind of thing and focus on dance. that is until he ran into you once again.

you greeted him first, before he could run away and that action alone confused him. you looked so cute just like the first time he saw you, but this time you were in a pink tank top and short denim skirt. equally as irresistible. you guys actually made small talk at first until shotaro couldn’t hold it in.

“what happened last night… would you want to do it again? i’ll be gentle!”

you smiled weakly. “if you say so.”

you gave him a blowjob in a bathroom stall before he took you back to his dorm.

in his defense it was very gentle, he took his time with you leaving hot kisses all over your body. you didn’t know what to do with yourself you’d never had sex like that before. he was sweet and thoughtful and you found yourself wanting to hear his voice and feel him more and more.

you wanted him to feel the same way about you. you wanted him to think about you for more than your body. you wanted him to crave every part of you. you felt yourself get lost in the feelings you were developing for him. you pressed your hands against his chest when he moved to enter you.

"please… i want to make you feel good too.” shotaro just stared at you slightly confused before he responded.

“you make me feel so good baby, i think i’m addicted to you.” it’s possible he said more but that’s all you needed to hear. you reached your arms around him and pressed yourself as close to his body as you could.

at that moment you could start to forget the circumstances in which you met. shotaro was so sweet to you now and he wasn’t mean to you then. would it be too much to hope for a relationship with this man? you could imagine letting him use you whenever he wants keeping him satisfied and he would be kind to you in return.

you wanted to kiss him so bad, you were staring at his lips and he thankfully took the hint grabbing your hair to pull you impossibly closer to him. it made you so happy. having shotaro as your boyfriend so no one else could mess with you. and he makes you feel so good…

shotaro loved the look on your face. you looked absolutely obsessed with him and that’s how he wanted it. he felt so lucky that you accepted him, any guilt that he previously felt was totally gone, now he just wanted to have you near him all the time. have you as his and make sure everyone knew.

you were perfect for him. so responsive and eager to please. you loved everything he gave you and he forgot anything else mattered when he saw you.

at some point he knew this was bad. the way you met and how you got to this point. but you didn’t care so why should he? he’ll take advantage of your past to make sure that you’re thankful for everything he does to you.

#shotaro smut #shotaro imagine #shotaro scenarios #nct smut #nct imagine #nct scenarios #yandere nct #yandere shotaro #nct 2020 #nct #osaki shotaro #kpop smut #kpop imagine #kpop scenarios

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ncssian · 3 years

Text

some nessian fics i really like + why i like them;

this coincidentally went along with @anidealiveson's thanksvember idea, but it's a little different. these are either my favorite nessian fics ever or fics that i thought did something really well so im gonna put them in the hall of fame anyway :)

(also im sure most people have already heard of most of these but idc)

***

Sympathy for the Devil by @saphie3243: ACOTAR series told from Nesta's POV; maybe the best and most comprehensive take on Nesta's thoughts, inner workings, and emotions. It gives such an honest glimpse into her character that it feels like canon. Would recommend if you love reading longass essays on why Nesta is the way she is.

POETRY by @sayosdreams: short oneshot where Nessian are assigned to a creative writing project together that was just tender enough to imprint on my mind forever; on this list for the line "I think I just fell a little bit in love with you."

Drops of Sapphire by @sayosdreams: open for a surprise :)

Like Pristine Glass by @ladynestaarcheron: I only read one chapter of this fic and it was the last one, which meant I cried all night and refused to read it from the beginning b/c it hurt (also great writing). Features Nesta running away from the Night Court, Nesta with kids, and Cassian being forced to face his mistakes.

Tidal by @flowerflamestars: No thoughts all I know is that Pacific Rim sexy!!! The aesthetic makes me feral and jaeger-pilot Nessian make me feral!!

Love Her Like She Should Be Loved by @julemmaes: This fic is so crucial for anyone who's ever wanted to slap the IC around or see Cassian stand up for his girl. I wish there was a word for this specific trope b/c it's my favorite trope ever, but for now I call it romantic-partner-goes-feral-when-people-are-mean-to-the-love-of-their-life. Also Nesta being treated like an outcast will never not make me cry.

Sister by @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter: the same trope as LHLSSBL! Newly mated to Nesta, Cassian's temper is hanging on by a thread when he has to be around Rhys and the IC, remembering how they treated Nesta when she was depressed and alone. Very angsty and dramatic ficlet; 5 stars. (this person has a lot of amazing nessian fics this one is just my favorite)

Under The Weather by @thewayshedreamed: my favorite take of the many Cassian-taking-care-of-sick-Nesta fics out there. It feels extra special when Nesta and Cassian are barely acquaintances but he'll drop everything to take care of her anyway. Also caring Cassian>>> cocky Cassian.

Hellhound by @thewayshedreamed: more caring Cassian! He intervenes when Nesta is on the verge of a panic attack and helps calm her down and it's all very sweet and soft. (oneshot)

Mad Woman by @smallerinfinities: this fic is fairly new but it instantly grabbed my attention; it has escort Cassian providing Nesta with ~therapy~ which I didn't know I needed until I read it for myself. (multipart)

What's Wrong With A Good Story? by @maastrash: I can't believe I forgot to add this the first time around but this fic is a Nessian staple! Other than Nesta in scrubs and terminally ill Cassian (crying), the relationship development in this fic is adorable and makes me not care if the ending is tragic or not.

A Court of Fever and Frustration by @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter: nesta takes care of cassian this time, and it's PERFECTTT. romance has always been about the little details to me, and this fic is full of little details: rubbing someone's back, knowing where they're hurting without asking, soothing touches. i also think being sick makes characters vulnerable in a way that physical injuries just can't and i love seeing cassian absolutely wrecked in front of nesta. ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

some hand-picked faves from @lady-therion's masterlist (these are the five-star comfort fics for when i'm really missing nessian):

Close Quarters: snowed-in-a-cabin fic that is soft, warm, and ~tender~

The Warrior's Heart: mostly smut, but like poignant smut? it's not necessarily emotional but it makes me emotional, and it's entirely because of the writing.

Entirely My Own: more of the same type of smut that makes me feel the same way as TWH. i think the word i'm looking for is "intimacy", and it's my absolute favorite thing to find in a fic.

Honorable mention goes to Her Dark Affection: dom!Nesta, enough said.

this is definitely not an exhaustive list and im sure i've forgotten a lot of wonderful fics, but i will be updating this as i find/remember more fics i love! also make sure to check out the complete masterlists of all these writers bc there are definitely works not on this list that i think people would enjoy the hell out of.

#ficrec #nessian #ncssian recommends stuff #nessian fic #nesta archeron #cassian

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killcommander · 3 years

Note

I had a VERY long discussion about basically how my parents have caused me so much trauma I've been carrying. Mind you I didnt ever (EVER) want to have this conversation it just kind of happened. Anyways, I am very emotionally exhausted and feel terrible. Any recommendations of good catradora fanfics?

first of all, i am so proud of you for doing that! even though its hard, i think that’s a really important conversation to have. sorry this took a couple days to reply to! i was trying to compile a list. so there’s the super obvious ones like don’t go and i know anchronism is another really popular one which has been recommended to me by several but i just haven’t read it yet (i’m saving it bc i know im gonna end up reading it all at once tbh). so here is a not at all comprehensive list. all the fics included on this list are completed:

glowing in the dark - college au where catra and adora were bffs in high school and haven’t spoken since until they end up in the same english lit class. stayed up way too late just to read this. i loved it.

buried a hatchet (it’s coming up lavender) - automatic points for the phoebe bridgers lyrics title. this one is “what if catra and adora get stuck in the portal instead of angella” and it is amazing

notes on fashion - au where catra is a model and adora is a pop star. i’ve thought about this fic every single day since i read it. i love it like my own child. one of my favorite au’s i’ve read from any fandom.

five nothing kisses...unless? - by my pal @scrawnycatra. as i once told michelle, “KISSING FIC FUCKS!” im a sucker for any fic that includes catra and adora having kissed while they were in the horde.

keep on walking, come what will - adora and catra are engaged but they don’t realize it. this was the very first catradora fic i read and what a way to start off. we know the etherian rituals are intricate we just know it!

meet me at the finish line - street racer catra meets mechanic adora to work on her car, melog. this one is also made a huge case for “best au i’ve read in a long time.” the sexual tension is DELICIOUS.

where the lonely ones roam - the one where catra nurses adora back to health at the end of the war and then builds a village. the slow burn and catra’s characterization in particular is *chef’s kiss*

she’s a keeper - SOCCER COACH AU CATRADORA?!?!?! you betcha. also they’re high school exes, which makes things extra spicy. another fic i think about way too often.

translucence - i told you i’m a sucker for catradora kissing while they were in the horde, so here’s that plus mind wiping angst.

till death do us part (in stupidity and in health) - this one had me fucked up. adora’s an fbi agent who gets shot and is bleeding all over her wife’s favorite er. i really loved the way this fic described catra’s emotions while sitting with the uncertainty of adora’s condition. super relatable and super well-done.

you got cool - i didn’t know i was such a slut for high school aus until i read this. holy shit. adora transfers to a new high school for her senior year, and she and catra don’t speak for months because of it... until they do!!!!!!

please take it out on me - dumb horny jocks who get banned from the gym for fucking too loudly? sign me up. but also, feelings and pining.

thus concludes part 1 of my catradora fic rec list. i’m sure there will be more. also, to the authors of these fics: pls know i would die for all of you.

#catradora #spop #fic rec

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businessbois · 3 years

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hello blue :D i would like to know everything you would like to tell me about your favourite fic you've written

lyssie shrugofgod weirdly-enough this is the kindest thing ever i hope you're ready for vaguely comprehensible ranting.

okay so i couldn't choose between two fics "once i called you brother" and "the art and (mine)craft of war" because i could talk forever about both, but im gonna talk about "once i called you brother" because its the less popular one

heres the link :)

so i basically wrote this fic because i thought that the song "the plagues" from prince of egypt (or at least the opening lines) were incredibly perfect for c!tommy and c!techno and it was a shame that no one did an animatic for it yet. i cannot draw so i just wrote a fic for it.

once i called you brother once i thought the chance to make you laugh was all i ever wanted

is that literally not tommy with techno though?

and then the rest of the song can read as like doomsday or november 16th, you know, them arguing about selfishness and betrayal and all that. the song fucking slaps.

but anyways the fic itself? the opening is inspired by how like, if you didn't know who technoblade was during the beginning of the smp, he would just be this mysterious figure of legend that tommy, wilbur, or dream occasionally talked about. it hit me during the dream v technoblade duel stuff that since techno had never been on the smp before, he was just this invisible dude with a huge reputation and that was so cool to me.

"Alrighty, I've been here before, right?"

"Listen, Techn—Dream..."

these are quotes from tommy that i quoted in the fic. i used to do this a lot, just stick quotes with no context into fics because i assumed everyone had the same precise memory of everything that went on the smp that i did. the first one is referring to tommy being surrounded by people outside the community house and "i've been here before" is him remembering a similar scenario on smpearth and therefore technoblade. the second is when he accidentally calls dream techno (about 30 seconds into this comp) again adding to techno's thing of being just this widely alluded to figure.

"Who do you think will win? My bets on our boy, Dream, but feel free to be wrong."

Niki stays quiet, a small frown on her face.

i feel bad for cutting niki absolutely owning dream with "well, techno's my friend" but it simply couldnt stay in for fic purposes

waking up to a frantic Bitzel muttering about hypothermia and something heavy and red covering his shivering frame.

smpearth is canon because i Want it to be canon and in my canon there's a moment where tommy passes out in the middle of a fight and techno brings him back to business bay wrapped up in his cape because he's technosoft and all their fighting is more like play fighting anyways

Tommy knows that love is earned. That if he does well in some Championships, then his place in the family is secured.

this is inspired by the bet that wilbur and tommy had in like mcc8 that if they placed fifth or higher tommy could be in sbi. in tommy's pov it becomes, "you have to earn your place in this family."

“Because I’m not the vice president.”

this is from one of his exile streams where he's talking to dream about why people won't visit him anymore

Tommy is 10 and too big for his boots.

this section is inspired by tommy's story of how he met techno as told in this storytime.

there is something that flickers at the back of his mind when the ratty zombie child calls him The Blade.

i think it's so incredibly special that everybody calls techno The Blade but like,, that's tommy's nickname for him. theres this moment where tommy's talking about giving techno a nickname and techno's like "you call me The Blade!' again, everybody calls techno The Blade, but he tells tommy "you call me The Blade." like i don't know how to articulate this but, that's tommy's nickname for him. they're brothers.

Tommy's been to war with soft, pale blues.

ae reference because again, smpearth is canon cuz i said

Tommy is 13 and standing over the remains of Business Bay's storage area.

this is an smpearth thing. wisp and vop did a whole grief of business bay, it was very dramatic very tragic. the thing with techno coming to business bay to talk to tommy is from this comic and i hold this headcanon close to my heart.

"Tommy, if anyone gives you trouble—and I mean serious trouble, not the kind we have—you tell me.”

Tommy hears an echo of similar words from the man who just burnt down everything he’s worked for.

"Tommy, anyone that touches you fucks with me... I will kill Techno if it takes me all of my life to prepare for it, you understand me?"

im so proud of this parallel between wisp and techno man you have no clue. okay, so like i said before, the ae versus bb thing in my head is very much like play fighting. sometimes it gets serious like the scenario which is happening in the fic where things actually get destroyed. that's because they're stubborn teenaged boys and conflicts can go from fun to actual trouble real quick. these "similar words" and the following quote are references to one of my favorite wisp moments ever. wisp, for anyone unclear on smpearth backstory, was a part of business bay before he betrayed them for the antarctic empire. he was also the one who burnt down the storage area which is why tommy's remembering this quote so bitterly.

Tommy rolls his eyes. "I pinky promise, Technoblade." He sticks out his little finger like a challenge.

the pinky promising is Canon from like the post-exile streams i think and i headcanon it as something tommy just does with people

and so this is to put context to the "using techno" thing. because i've always kinda viewed as like calling in a friend (or a big brot—[gunshot]) in for help so this part of the fic gives it the background to be like that

But then, Tommy is 16 and standing in a cataclysm, once again watching everything he’s worked for get destroyed by a man who swore to protect him.

this line solidifies that parallel to wisp where techno made a similar promise to protect tommy and now he's destroying everything tommy's worked for (business bay in wisp's case, lmanburg in techno's case) im very proud of this parallel.

His tall brown-haired friend from competitions past

wilbur of course, the competitions past being mcm

He collects titles like music discs

i asked my friend for things that people collect and they said "records" and i said "wait—"

Technoblade is 17 and he has no family. He has a friend who makes sure he sleeps. He has a friend who creates bridges and mischief. He has a bug that he still hasn't squashed.

i've always loved the idea of sbi becoming this little found family on smpearth. like they're not super lovely dovey "we're like brothers" but they're so fond of each other and they hang out when they're not pretending to be at war. and so theres still that room to say that they're not family, but like they totally are

Bright blue eyes beg him for some entertainment, so Techno sighs and grabs The Complete Works of William Shakespeare off the shelf.

this headcanon that techno used to read them shakespeare comes from wilbur's offhand comment asking techno to recite king lear to them

Wilbur's planted himself at Techno's side for the duration of the finale, something that he's grateful for. Wilbur's always been his person to lean on for things like this.

inspired by i think wilbur saying that he was techno's like designated extrovert during mcc's and i really love that aspect of their relationship. because techno is looked at as "the older brother" in so many ways, but like in this way, when wilbur's guiding him through social situations and supporting him, he gets to be wilbur soot's little brother.

Technoblade never says I love you, but he reads his baby brother The Twelfth Night instead of Hamlet and ends Theseus' tale after the Minotaur.

this was one of the first things i had written for this fic. so obviously hamlet is a tragedy while the twelfth night is a rocking good time. so like going back to that shakespeare headcanon but techno protecting tommy in the little ways. the theseus part is inspired by me not knowing the rest of theseus' story after he gets home and his dad jumps into the ocean. like the exile and death stuff i didn't hear about until the dsmp so that's where that came from. techno, even though it kind of goes against who he is, leaving theseus' story as a victory where the hero slays the monster, just to give his little brother something with a happy ending

"Do you want to be a hero, Tommy? THEN DIE LIKE ONE!"

i did always think this could be seen as like "well if you want to be a hero, then you can die like one" and leaving off the unspoken "but if you don't want to be--if you choose not to be, then you get to live. so don't be a hero. please don't be a hero." and theres like that little tragedy there that i really love in techno and tommy's relationship. like, i love you, you love me, all i ever wanted was to make you laugh, but we don't speak the same language. we don't understand each other. everything you are is against everything i stand for. so yeah bedrock bros feels. i wrote this long before exile and all that so its even more complicated now gosh.

#long post

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poptod · 3 years

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ay so i’m gonna request a couple things real fast. don’t feel pressured to do them quick or anything i just need to ask them before i forget. anyway can i get an ahk x reader where reader is a maladaptive daydreamer? only if you’re comfortable of course

Notes: this is so short so im really sorry, but this request had a little less plot than the others and i wanna get to those too WC: 600 something

He doesn't understand.

In this new world, there are a lot of things he doesn't understand––though, all of them are for good reason. This specific thing, you, don't have a good reason to be beyond comprehension. You're a person. Not some new-fangled technology or theory about time and space, but a human. He's very used to understanding those.

You spend the night going about the museum, drifting from exhibit to exhibit with your eyes glazed over. He's not even sure you realize the exhibits are empty. Nothing about you suggests there's something inside, some deeper thought, at least not to anyone else. Ahk has seen it, though––the tiny motions of your lips, muttering and murmuring to yourself these words anyone else has yet to hear. They're constant, commentating on each artifact you stop at and every painting you pass.

The underwater part of the museum; where creatures as old as earth sit in petrified rock, recreations of their former splendor hanging from the ceiling. Here there are none of the warm lights he's used to from the rest of the museum. Darkness surrounds him, as it often does at night, a hazy blue glow surrounding everything. The distinct pulse of deep waters fills up his bones, but he grounds himself with concentration. Concentration on you.

You're looking up at one of the sharks, to the glinting rows of teeth and dark, innocent eyes. The image unsettles him, to say the least––the two of you are so close, your nose almost touching the glass, and the shark watching you carefully.

The heat of your murmuring is fogging up the glass.

"(Y/N)?" He asks quietly, coming up behind you with muted footsteps. It takes a second before you react, instead caught in a watery trance, unbreathing and unmoving.

When at last it processes in your head that you heard sound, and that it was coming from someone trying to get your attention, you turn to him with petrified eyes.

"Ahk, hello," you say, and the unearthly stare is gone, replaced by the sweet smile that had so captivated his attention.

"You look very deep in thought," he says, glancing up at the shark, who has since swam away. "Well, you always do, actually."

"I'm sorry," you say, but before he can assure you there's no need for you to apologize, you continue. "My mother used to tell me that a lot. I guess I never really grew out of it."

You don't actually have a mother, but he doesn't bother to correct you.

"What is it that you think about?"

Quiet follows his query, filled by your silent thoughts and the rush of water still reverberating around him.

"Another world," you say softly, almost hesitant to answer.

"Like this one?"

"A bit," you nod without much presence, your stare glazing over once more, this time directed at one of the benches in the center of the room. You don't continue and he quickly realizes you're back in that 'other world'.

He sighs, biting the inside of his cheek as he leaves you there. You don't even notice he's leaving, don't wave him good-bye, don't say a thing. What's better about your world than this one? Why can't you live here, where he is? Where he can be the one that comforts you, where all the real people are.

In your mind you're still talking to him. Telling him all the shark facts you learned from the plaque, and you're holding his hand. The real Ahkmenrah wouldn't let you do this, would he?

So you made your own version of him; called it real, decided this was where it was better to be. Absorbed in the false version of him. The one that always holds your hand. In your mind, the real-world version of him would never do that, a belief fueled by your rather dwindling sense of self esteem.

Both of you are unreachable by the other, no matter how far either of you stretch to save the other. It's not even circles you dance around each other––it's orbits, spinning so far out you can barely see one another.

What a heavenly dance you have.

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum

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jade-of-mourning · 3 years

Text

theformat wrote, "im floating with the birds im talking to the weeds look what youve done to me"

in which i spontaneously take several hours to translate nate’s awfully punctuated commentary on dog problems into Comprehensive English Words. partially so i can write my stupid essay on it for fun. but yes here you go, 4.2k words from a 2006 livejournal archive that i managed to snatch out of two saves. here’s a link if you want to read it from the source, but i’ll have you know it’s a nightmare. early 2000′s nate ruess learn how to type properly challenge.

theformat wrote,

[@ 2006-5-18 18:44:00]

"im floating with the birds im talking to the weeds look what youve done to me"

Hi,

Sitting on my couch, watching ESPN. Damn, it’s good to be home. Things have been pretty crazy the last 6 months. As a lot of you know, we were dropped by our label — we went and recorded a new record, labels became interested, [and] we decided to release it ourselves. We went on tour, and now I’m [...] home for the next week: my first week off in six months. What do I do?

Well, my roommate and I got memberships to the YMCA down the street from our house. It’s an amazing place. Downtown Phoenix is pretty much an amazing place. It’s not like the rest of the state — speaking of which, I’m declaring war on Scottsdale, it’s the opposite of Downtown Phoenix.

Anyways, so I wake up at 9am every morning. I don’t know what it is, really — I’ve been a "pro" musician for about 3 years now, [and] we are supposed to wake up at 11 or 12. I know some dudes that wake up at 1, but no; since I’ve been home the last few days, I’ve been going to bed at 1 and waking up at 9. My roommate has a job, [so] I think it has to do with that.

See, there are 3 showers total in our house. I have the big bedroom, so I have the big shower, [and] since I’ve been off on tour and recording, he has gotten used to the nice shower in my room (Which is fine — anyone that’s gotten close to me knows I’m not too fond of showers, so it’s not like I use it that much). So every morning around 8:45, I wake up to my door opening and my roommate going through my room to use the shower.

You know what it’s like when you’re half asleep but you want to act like you’re awake so as not to freak someone out with all the crazy babble, but you just end up saying all the same crazy babble? I do that every morning. I turn and look at him and try to act like I wasn’t just dreaming about tootsie rolls and parrots that shatter like glass. "Hey [Roommate's Name], that was some game last night" [is what usually] comes out of my mouth — something to that extent — and I think he feels sorry for me, but continues to walk right into my bathroom, and use the shower.

At this point, I’m awake. I usually have to pee, and I have to then use his restroom. It’s a terrible swap, and it always ends with me wide awake on my front porch (har har) smoking a cigarette and wondering how the hell I’m gonna fall back asleep when the air conditioning is broken. Ah, what a wonderful life at home, [but] that’s the weird thing — I love it. Now we wake up and we go to the [YMCA]. We run, we play basketball, we jump in the pool, we play pool basketball, we get yelled at for dunking the ball. We don’t use soap before we go into the sauna, and the night usually ends with a poker tournament. This is the life I love to live when I’m away from the road. It too is the opposite of Scottsdale. It’s who I am, [and] it’s pretty much who I’ve become.

See, for the last 23 years, it’s been about the highs and the lows for me. I’ve got an addictive personality, [so] I stay away from a lot of things because of this; however, when I find things, I get generally excited. I go crazy. It’s all I think about and all I do for the next howeverlong. For the first 23 years, it was either talking non-stop or locking myself in my room. It’s either great or terrible; not good or bad. Dog Problems changed that.

Initially, Dog Problems was supposed to be that — the original concept of Dog Problems was to be 2 sides of music, the first half taking over where Interventions [+ Lullabies] had left off: "We'll be together in the morning…"

We weren’t, in fact. We were over before Interventions was even released. We were over two weeks after it was recorded, [and] I spent the next 2 years feeling terrible. We got back together… we broke up… we got dogs… we broke up… we got back together and got dogs…

I was still miserable, but I wanted Dog Problems to get me through everything. I wanted it to help me, not anyone else — just me. The first side was supposed to be me down in the dumps [and] everything that went down: how the two of us were dealing with it differently, [and] the second half was supposed to be a realization.

The first inkling of realization was a day [when] we were on tour. We were all laughing about something I’m sure Marko or Adam said. Here I was supposed to be depressed, but the fact that I can spend all of my days in different states with my best friends, all of us doing what we love — that was major! Then my mom called… I’ve got my parents! My friends! What else could I possibly need?

At that point, I felt as if a relationship in a Michael Bolton sort of way didn’t mean anything. It was the people you surrounded yourself with — those were the people that made the difference, and that was going to be side two. I was convinced that when I just closed my eyes and thought about the wonderful people around me, I was going to be great. Not good, [but] great.

I didn’t get that far, no. I got back into the relationship.

I was sure it was going to work. At that point, life would be perfect, and we all want perfection right? [But] things went right back to far from perfect. Things went to terrible. I couldn’t stop feeling sorry for myself, but I had a concept. At that point, I figured that even by singing and recording these positive songs I was going to feel better, so Sam showed me what was then just a short acoustic guitar version of Snails.

This was it. This was my first chance to prove to myself that life can be beautiful. The thing is, I had never been more miserable. I remember writing the lyrics to Snails: my roommate was at work, I was on the bed, on my night stand was a giant bottle of booze, and somewhere off in California she wasn’t calling me back on a Friday night. So I went to work, listened [to it] over and over. I wanted to get it right; I wanted to be positive. I passed out, then I woke up the next morning [with a] big headache (P.S. drinking is not really that cool; it’s cool when you condemn it for the first 22 years of your life, then it becomes not cool, then it becomes ok when you moderate yourself) and I started writing everything positive I could think of. [...] Snails was, in Sam’s mind, supposed to be a 2 minute kid’s song, [but] I wrote so much that there was no going back. I thought that was it — Snails solved all of my problems.

It didn’t get that far either. Nothing could shake the depression, [and] I really started to worry about myself. Here I want to feel great, but I only feel terrible, [and] a few months later it got really really bad. I had to go to my parents house that night, I didn’t want to be at my house. I wanted to feel like a kid.

It’s funny how we always want to be adults when we're younger. We want to drive cars, we want to have girlfriends. I still didn’t consider myself an adult — all I wanted was to come home, be tucked in, know that everything was going to be alright. I woke up the next day [and found out] she met someone new. I’ve got to figure myself out…

In the meantime, we've got 4 songs we are recording over at our friend Aaron’s house (he is an amazing producer and [...] musician, and his house and his roommates have gotten me through a lot of tough times. They’re some of the only people I know who would rather spend their Saturdays getting dinner and watching a movie instead of going to a party. I like that). All of this turmoil in my relationship was going on at the time, and I was trying to write side two [but] I couldn’t. There was more fuel to side one. These songs have to be done, so I wrote about what I knew, and at that point I knew how to feel terrible.

So much for side two. Dog Problems is going to be one giant mess of depression and "look what you’ve done to me".

Atlantic got those four songs, as well as a few others. They were not psyched, to say the least, but some people at the label actually cared about it enough to say "go record". So we were able to pick our producer, we met with a few people, talked to a few more. Things were looking up. Dog Problems was going to happen.

I remember meeting Steve McDonald at his house — Sam and I were excited to be [there] because we knew his wife Anna would probably be there. Anna was the lead singer/songwriter for a band we used to obsess about called "That Dog", her brother was one of the ten drummers in the world that I actually liked, so Steve couldn't be so bad. And he wanted to produce our record, so he had to be pretty cool!

He was just that, and more. Sam and I were eating every word that came out of his mouth. He had stories; he was young, hip, energetic, and yet very all knowing. We saw someone that was going to let us do whatever we wanted to do, and in the meantime he was going to make us laugh and make sure we didn't lose our minds. From that point on, I knew there was someone I could always trust. I made a friend pretty quick.

Things were moving forward. Steve McDonald was to be the producer. I hated Los Angeles so there was no way in hell I was going to record there, [so] we decided Palm Springs would be perfect. Weird, but perfect. I had a phone conversation with Steve that night and we were finalizing everything. I was going to call Atlantic in the morning and let them know just how everything was going to work, [but] I didn't get that far.

I was sleeping in a blowup bed at the house when my phone rang. I didn’t wake up and answer like it was my roommate and he was coming into my room to use my shower, [because] this call felt different. Right away, I was awake.

It was our manager: "You’ve been dropped."

When I heard that, the first thought going through my mind wasn’t "Oh man...how are we going to be famous now and make boat loads of money?" It was more like "fuck...but Dog Problems. We were supposed to go make Dog Problems."

The thing is, Atlantic wasn’t into Dog Problems. They were into whatever it was they thought we were. Never had The First Single made more sense — what was supposed to be a song about getting the band started and doing something with it had actually turned into a song about how stuck we were in the labels eyes because of the song. I was past that; we're proud of something we wrote when we were 19 and 20, but when I think of music, I think of progression.

I think of all of the wonderful records I had been introduced to when I had nothing to do riding in a van. I think of all of the new influences, all the instruments, all of the "How did they do that?" And I think of how much it gets me through everything.

Music has been the consecutive[ly] great[est] thing in my life. It’s been that one thing, and with Dog Problems, it wasn’t about "I want everyone to sing along because I can write a catchy song." It was about feeling. It was paying tribute to all of the bands that we obsessively listened to. It was for Harry Nilsson and Van Dyke Parks, it was for Jellyfish and XTC. It was our way of saying thanks for making our lives better, whether it be lyrically or musically. It was never about being something, being told something, and sticking to something. It was an adventure, for the artist and for the listener.

[And] they didn't get that. They wanted the old record, the old songs, just with different words and a few different chords here and there. They didn’t care about Snails or Dog problems [or] what it meant to write those songs. They knew it wasn't going to be huge; the guitars were not big enough (if big guitars are your thing that’s fine, it’s just not really our thing right now); it wasn’t going to be competitive, and so they dropped us. And rightfully so: we weren’t going to change, and obviously the major label business is never going to change, [so] now it comes down to who goes down first. And we weren’t ready to go down.

Sam and I had conversations about it, whether the business end of things have been fucking with us so much that we'll never be sane enough to just enjoy it. We thought about getting out — it wasn’t [be]cause we hated each other, or the songs; it was because we hated the business.

Steve called to let us know that he was still onboard, label or not, [and] we let him know we were still on board. We were going to make this record, [and] I was going to feel great! But the record was going to cost something. How could we afford it?

We were lucky that we had a management company like Nettwerk. Not only are they the most forward-thinking music business people around, [but] they’re also (for the most part) Canadian. Oh, and they care a shit load about the music we make. They could have waited for the ship to sink, but they told us they would pay for the record if need be. Fortunately, we were able to get money for getting dropped — Atlantic actually paid us to leave, so we could afford the recording ourselves. The only stipulation was that it had to be done quicker, and when you want something quick, you have to go to the "right here, right now" capitol of the world: Los Angeles. I was a little irked at the thought at first, then Steve said it was his personal goal to make LA a wonderful city for me. Like I said, I would jump off a cliff if Steve said it was the best way to get coffee, but I wasn’t jumping off of cliffs. I was too excited to make Dog Problems, [so] LA it was.

Sam and I moved to the "Silver Palace" in Silverlake California in the middle of December. We found an amazing studio in Burbank, California and an amazing engineer in Ken Sluiter, and our goal was to just do everything free from a record label and someone constantly messing up the recording process by saying things like "that’s not high octave enough". The only pressure we had at all was from our manager saying "You have a tour you accepted in March, [so] get it done by then.” Other than that, it was me, Sam, Steve, and Ken working 13 hours a day for 6 days a week.

It became our lives we were putting so much of ourselves into. Everyone that worked and played on the record was the same way when they were there contributing. I would leave the studio at 2 in the morning and wake up at 10 to be at the studio by 11. There was no free time — the four of us were so invested in this. We all bought into the concept.

In the meantime, things outside of the studio were getting interesting. We had a lot of labels calling and constantly asking about it. During one week of recording, I remember at least 3 different label people coming down to the studio. Our minds weren’t made up as to what we were doing with the record once it was recorded — all we wanted to do was finish it — but we kept our options open and let people sit in the big chair and listen to what we had been working on. The response was overwhelmingly positive, but we didn’t really think about it too much beyond the compliments we were receiving. Sam and I got used to LA — I was 10 minutes away from where I had been the previous summer when I was back "on" in my “on and off" relationship. I was ten minutes from her, she was calling every day, I was singing about it… but how was it not getting to me? Why did I not care?

My phone was off. I woke up in Silverlake one morning and started wondering why for the last month I had a smile on my face. Sure, I was down at times, but the thing that had been bringing me down for 3 years was now the last thing on my mind. Apparently, it had been that way for awhile. Something that took 3 years to get over… I was finally just okay with it. No big realization — just the fact that things happen. People make mistakes. And I came out of it alright. I was good; not great… I was good, and that felt good.

I wasn’t looking for great anymore. I was okay. The last song on Dog Problems is all about that. Here, this record was supposed to be the downs, and the ups, and it ended with the middle: the realization that I don’t need to be talking; I don’t need to be locked in my room — I need to enjoy what’s going on around me. And if things go wrong, they go wrong. There’s always tomorrow.

Dog Problems means so much to me in so many different ways. I’ve never been more proud of anything in my life. I cried so many times during the making of the record. All the money I had spent on therapy, and all I had to do was go make a record, realize that I’m alright, and realize that I made something that I’ll forever be proud of.

Shit… the record was supposed to be about how California can change you for the worse, [but] it played a huge part in doing the opposite!

So as we were putting the finishing touches on the record (all our friends came in and recorded! A ton of people we admired came and worked on the record! All of their responses were so positive that it's hard not to get an ego about it. These are the people I worship. They’re the ones I wanted to pay tribute to, and they think we've made something unique and special. It’s like Michael Jordan telling you that you have a nice jump shot (no more sports references… I swear I’m done)) and we started to think about what we were going to do with it. How we were going to release it. Labels were getting pretty into it, and we knew we would have to make a decision soon.

After much debate and discussion, we decided that the record was something we had made completely on our own, so why not release it completely on our own? Nettwerk was going to take care of the distribution so it would have a major label distro. It would be inside all of the Best Buys; what more did we want? We didn’t want a big fat check — we did that last time. It made us miserable, and nothing came out of it. Barely anyone at the labels helped us, we weren’t making music videos, our songs weren’t on the radio, so why would we take their criticism? After all, everything that we’ve done — any success we’ve had is from being real people who make music. From showing up to play, from 3 years on the road.

On Interventions [+ Lullabies], there might have been an Elektra logo on the back of the record, but it ended right there. We were the ones SHOWING people who we were. I wouldn’t have it any other way — no one knows us better than ourselves, so why not release it ourselves? To me, it’s not only a testament to the hard work we put into the band (Mike, Don, Marko, Toco, everyone else involved in putting these songs to life — you guys are the best thing we have. It’s pretty special when your best friends are some of the most talented musicians), but I really feel like the people who come to our shows are such good people that they don’t give a fuck what label it’s on.

They are there because we are doing something positive, and because we care about them as much as they care about us. So for the time being we've said "fuck the middleman": we're the only people we can blame at this point. I’m so tired of even talking about major labels and the split and everything like this. The music is the only thing I care about. Dog Problems is the only thing I care about, so why let someone else ruin it?

The Vanity Label was born.

The record got finished. We had no time to rehearse, and we had to go right back out to tour. Our first show before the Motion City Soundtrack tour was in Nashville — I remember the last time we were in Nashville, there were about ten kids. Reuben’s accomplice kept asking them why they hate whales, so we figured why not go there and get some of the rust out of the way. After all, we haven't toured in a year so there should be like 3 kids there; we can mess up if need be.

Unfortunately, we were not allowed to mess up. On a Sunday night in Nashville, with Ted Leo playing across the street (I <3 Ted), our first headlining show outside of Arizona in almost a year was over sold out. What the fuck happened?

We thought we were going to have to play for another 3 years just to get back to where we were when we left, and yet it’s sold out on a Sunday night? It didn’t end there either — the whole tour went like that… night after night ("nite after nite?"). I couldn't believe it. As if having Dog Problems wasn’t enough, now we have people showing their support in the most positive way: coming to the shows, being there from the only thing they knew before. Those two months were such good months. It was the last thing I expected. Thanks so much to all the bands that played with us, and thanks so much for everyone that came to the shows and sang along. We'll be back in July.

In the meantime, things were going great on the Vanity Label front. Business actually felt natural. We are shooting a video with the directors we had always dreamed of doing a video with (it won’t be serious...no pouty face). There were magazines like AP and online magazines like AP taking notice, supporting the whole idea and concept. We actually took press photos. I’ve never been through any of this before, it’s exciting. I don’t think it’s going to change who we are, not one bit, but it’s still exciting to see people who can help out actually help out.

So where does that leave me now? Sitting on my bed. I’ve rambled for hours, the air still doesn't work, and I’ve been told that Dog Problems (something that isn't supposed to come out till July) has been leaked. Not the best news when you just got out of the pool, but it happens. I freaked out at first — I thought I was going to lock myself in my room. After all, this is something that we spent over two years making. It’s something that you have to take the time… listen to in headphones… play loud… listen to in order of the tracks… the artwork… Sam did the best artwork he has ever done. The packaging is something we paid extra for because Sam’s concept was so brilliant, and now… it’s leaked on the internet? I was locking my door, then our manager called.

"Hello?"

"We're releasing it on the website today."

"Wow."

So, here goes. You’ve read enough. I shouldn’t have to go on about it anymore, but I will say, if you wanna wait for the full hard copy release then do so. It’s July 11 — we are gonna be touring right after that — but if you want to get it now,.please do it by purchasing it right here. We released it, it’s our money, it’s our little baby — you should take the time to listen to it all the way through, free of distraction. You should turn the songs into your own. It’s an adventure, and it’s something that we put everything we have into; and if anyone deserves it first, it’s you guys who have been here with us all along.

Without further ado...

"Dog Problems"

- Nate

#dog problems #the format #nate ruess #basically: dog problems; a lyrical & musical & emotional masterpiece #i honestly feel like i don't even need to write that essay anymore wtf #4.2k words baby that took me ages to edit bc he has the WORST typing habits #every half statement is interspersed with ellipses and there are no apostrophes and everything was no caps lmaooo #moving on #this is absolutely my favorite album ever and holy shit #finally reading this post in its entirety gave me so much more insight it's wild #i'm like so fucking emotional help jhfhbjgfhsdkg #i'm just glad he's doing alright now and having a good time even if music isn't a big part of his life anymore #and i also feel like i understand the breaking up of fun. a lot more as well #hell i just really understand nate ruess in general a lot more and it's really nice #bc he's been my favorite artist for a while and i know a lot of people shit on him for his personality but like. fuck off people are people #and u know. if work permits is my favorite song so hearing shit about it makes me happy #truly makes me appreciate the album more than i already did #and makes me get why it's the only part of his discography he still actually likes #even though OBJECTIVELY SPEAKING they are all Excellent but okay then nate

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poguesgold · 3 years

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how did you feel about season? i know most people liked it better than season 1 but i’m not sure how i feel yet🤔 might need to rewatch it

okay this ended up soooo long so i'm giving a tl;dr review here and if anyone cares to read my insanely long thought dump you can feel free. this part is spoiler free also!!

cons: i think they should have further developed the s1 storyline rather than conjuring up an entirely new treasure and conflict; i don't think they did the characters justice a lot of the time, particularly kie and jj; too much yelling and running not enough hanging out; the finale cliff hanger was a stupid writing choice

pros: cleo!!; pope-centric plotline!!!; amazing jjpope moments in the improv sequences; never a boring moment; rafebarry oh my god????; neck kiss shirtless wrestling holding hands standing unnecessarily close jjpope rot; just a straight up nine hour long adrenaline rush and i love that shit.

overall: i definitely did not like it more than s1, but i still REALLY loved it. i think it's worth the watch, just don't go into it expecting good writing or realistic injuries or a comprehensive plot LMFAO. what saves the season is the pogues' chemistry and their improv sequences, for real. and cleo. you WILL get angry about the shitty script and characterization if you’re really invested in that part of things, but as far as vibes and dopamine high it was awesome. it was a fun watch and i'll definitely rewatch at least once to soak it in properly

please this is going to be soooo long i apologize in advance. but i have a lot of thoughts. also ⚠️⚠️spoilers ahead!!⚠️⚠️

most of this review is going to be criticisms tbh so sorry for that but this show kinda sucks (affectionately<3)

i thought season 2 was an absolute TRAINWRECK as far as writing goes. jonas pate was basically like. this season we're going to have an even BIGGER and BETTER treasure!!! but the exact same thing is going to happen. like. we already had gold. and that's what they were going to the bahamas for at the end of season 1 for anyway????? it would have been so easy to just develop the original storyline further, i just cannot figure out why they would completely abandon it for another mediocre storyline. (i LOVED that this other mediocre storyline was pope-centric and the main character energy he was given this season. but. they. could have done that?? with the first storyline?????)

i hate that they brought big john back so so much. SO much. literally it was the stupidest most idiotic lazy cheesy plot choice in the world. it doesn't make sense, we like saw his literal bones at one point like his lifeless corpse, and WHY would they bring back a key character from the PREVIOUS ARC when they created an ENTIRELY NEW CONFLICT AND PLOTLINE FOR THIS SEASON???? jonas pate stuck it in for shock value and cliff hanger in hopes of securing a season 3, and i hate him for it. he's such a terrible writer white men have it so easy

someone in the neck kiss truthers discord earlier pointed out that jb's dead father returning after like a year and a half of thinking he was dead would probably be more traumatic that healing at this point, and i agree so much. also, you know that they're not going to use it for good either way. they're going to use his dad coming back as a way to further traumatize him somehow because obx writers are jombeephobic. and i wouldn't put it past them to bring him back just to kill him off again. jonas pate wants to write john b torture porn and i am TIRED of it

my least favorite thing about season 2 was the characterization. they really did just disregard the characters they created in season 1. kie was completely ooc for like three episodes, and it wasn't because she was mourning. it was just shitty writing. she had no character outside of her relationships this season, which has been my fear from the very beginning and why i have never wanted kie with any of the pogues. season 2 diminished her character to the female love interest, and that just sucked so bad for her.

whether you're a jjpope or not, season 2 completely changed their friendship dynamic. the only time we got glimpses of the season 1 jjpope dynamic was in the improv sequences when rudy and jd took it upon themselves. also during their hugs LMFAO. which is also an acting choice. the writing completely disregarded their friendship and dynamic. it was weird as fuck it was all weird. i also hated that kie and sarah's scripted interactions were just them talking about boys. another case of friendships again being completely disregarded for the cishet relationships.

i just really feel like all of the characters were handled poorly this season, which is crazy because literally ALL we asked for was backstory and character development and pogue screentime. but jonas pate instead decided to write ten episodes of nonstop running and yelling and fuckinf adrenaline, with an ooc script. for funsies

i feel like the magic of season 1 was lost. the vibe of season 1 that makes it so comforting and rewatchable and lovely is sort of just lost in all the silly plot. we see snatches of it here and there, but they feel crammed between unnecessary action scenes and stunts and shouting when we would have been happy with ten episodes of the pogues hanging out in each other's bedrooms.

NOW IM GOING TO TALK THINGS I LIKED OKAY OKAY

i seriously DID love watching it. we pulled an all nighter in the neck truthers discord and binged the entire season and the adrenaline of that kept me going for the rest of the week. it was literally fucking insane absolutely batshit and i LOVED it. the writing was horrible but like. it's obx we know it isn't good LMFAOO. it's part of the charm

i definitely don't like it more than s1, but i did still like it a lot. i LOVED how pope centric it was, like he fr had such main character energy this season and it was wonderful. even though the storyline was weird and didn't make sense jd did so well lolol he did so wonderfully. i loved seeing pope get the attention he deserves this season.

JJPOPE MOMENTS. i was definitely sad they didn't have an arc to themselves like they did season 1, but oh my god jd and rudy FED US with jjpope improv moments this season. the NECK KISS? the WRESTLING? every single one of their hugs?????? they're insane. it sucked that they really didn't have any scenes alone but we take what we can get.

SPEAKING OF GAYS LET'S TALK ABOUT RAFEBARRY. because?? oh my god??? first season it was like a crack ship and then season 2 came out and... what are we supposed to do ignore it? they are literally??? gay????? it's jarring they're insane. i am so so invested in them it's kind of unreal how deep i got into this ship in such a short amount of time (follow @rafebarry babies <33)

cleo. i love cleo. the best new thing to come out of this season for sure. clarah is coming strong i can feel it and i am SO ready. i know that they're most likely going to move toward a cleopope romance next season, which i don't hate? i'm bothered only because a) it's obvious it's mostly being done to get pope out of the way for jiara, and b) i think people often push two dark-skinned characters into a ship just because they're both dark-skinned, and that yucks me out. but i will say i really liked their moments together in s2 and i think they could be really good together if they're canon s3 (which they probably will be.)

overall like. it was a fun watch. i retained like 2% of the plot i was just there for the vibes and dopamine high and that was totally fine. i want to take the pogues out of jonas pate’s greedy little white man fingers and give them the character and relationship development they deserve, but we can’t have it all i guess. the cinematography this season i think i liked better than season 1, wasn’t a huge fan of that weird yellow filter tho. also the lighting. obx lighting guys get demoted challenge. umm yeah season 1 supremacy but season 2 had amazing vibes

#jesus clearly i haven't talked about this enough yet #send in other asks if you want i'm absolutely insane #sorry if there's typos i am not reading through this again #if i'm incoherent you'll just have to deal #asks #s2 asks

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thenamesblurrito · 3 years

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How did you draft SNAP? I've just gotten to the drafting stage of my comic with my brother but idk if theres some certain way to do it.

it’s taken a bit for me to organize my thoughts on this but I have an answer now, and you might not like it: there IS no some certain way to do it! I’ve been working with comics (and poking into the professional field, too O.O) for a few years now, so I do have some general advice for you-

read comics. really. can’t make a comic if you don’t know what a comic is, and since comics are a very specific medium of sequential visual storytelling, all the elements that make it a comic aren’t easily learned through other mediums. page layout, art style communicating tone, character design, story beats, etc. Scott McCloud has some wonderful books on comics, the Hellboy series is genuinely masterful, and honestly you could reread IDW and call it research. i go back and study my favorite webcomics to try and absorb their excellence: TPOH by @modmad is stunning, @avasdemon is gorgeous, and there’s endless more to browse over at @webcomiclibrary

know your story. this is covered by a Whole Heckin Lot of different places, resources, and writers, so I’ll encourage you to go look at comprehensive help if you need plot assistance. keep in mind that everyone drafts differently! you might need everything plotted out, or you could fly by the seat of your pants. physical writing, digital notetaking, verbal processing, all of it is fine as long as it works for you

THUMBNAIL for goodness sake thumbnail before you dedicate to a page. in fact, make practice versions of everything important. mess with character designs until you’re Absolutely Sure you will be alright with drawing them a bajillion times over and over. but specifically, thumbnails are tiny, rough page layouts. tiny so that you don’t get into any details and you can see how easily the page reads even when small, and rough so you aren’t committing and can keep fiddling. even with pages you’ve had in your head forever, a quick simple thumbnail can help smooth the transition from head to page

there’s other, post-drafting things to consider, like formatting and file size and update schedule and getting it out there, but that’s a whole seminar and I’d like to keep this relatively simple

for me, drafting SNAP was an adventure in taking the puzzle pieces my brain seemed to automatically generate (thank you, MADD) and fitting them together in something resembling order. almost all of the plot and twists presented themselves to me with very little work! arranging them however was a hassle. my episode-by-episode breakdown is uh. a mess. because my drafting process is a stream of consciousness solid block of text. here:

01- Welcome to the Academy! An Upgrade to Primes Orion oh no im late trope, monologue about situation, bumps into megs at front gate as creators are saying goodbye, drags orion inside as excuse to ditch them, cut to trine being weirdos at landing pad, screamers making plans to be awesome but whomp whos that chick its windblade and she can fly in root mode, grr immediate one sided rivalry [... this goes on for awhile]

no punctuation, no capitalization, just wordvomit. not every episode has such specific notes, some just say a general plot hook and some character reactions! this first episode however was daydreamed out until I had a pretty solid series of events

I’m early in thumbnailing right now. wish I was further along, actually I wish I simply had SNAP finished so I could read it myself *sob* BUT. it’s chugging along. my thumbnailing setup is a simple grid I scribble over with new layers for every six pages:

last one is blank because I’m in the habit of arranging pages by side-by-side pairs for printing, since that’s been the usual consideration for the comics I worked on before. you can see how messy these are! and they’re by no means final, either, I think I’m going to have to cut down on some pages once I finish thumbnailing this episode. one thing I have kept in mind for SNAP specifically is anime tropes that I can rip off, hence that fifth page being mostly taken up by Orion running to school with toast in his mouth lol

anyway this got long and I am hardly an expert, still workin on my own comic, but I hope this helps! anyone with more resources, tips and tricks, or advice feel free to chime in too, I’m hardly the entirety of comic knowledge

#comic things....#art advice #i have not a clue how to tag this #but i hope it helps!#i should reread TPOH now #episodes #yes yes you all get a sneak peek

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mcfreakin-bxtch · 4 years

Text

Here

The Mandalorian x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Some angst, A happy ending because I couldn’t bear giving them a sad one

Word Count: 1.7k+

A/N: After a million more years I finally finished it. Thank you to all who have been sticking with me and the story!

*Italics - Flashback

Out of Love // Lovely // Start Over

Din watched you from afar.

Your smile radiated throughout the small little valley. He used to think it was the most beautiful thing in the world; your smile, your laughter, your eyes, your nose, your—he could go on and on.

It’s not that he didn’t think any of that anymore, oh definitely not. He couldn’t imagine his life without you.

But, there was his little girl. His little girl, with his hair and your eyes, grabbing a handful of flowers with small, grubby hands. The Child ran behind her, or as much as he could; he was having fun regardless.

His little girl, who brought him nothing but happiness. Who gave him a whole new meaning to his life, who saved him from his own self destruction. The little human girl that Din would undoubtedly and unconditionally love for the rest of his days, and even after if that was a possibility; the one he would give up everything for.

So yeah, you used to be on the very, very top of that list of beautiful things he’d seen in his lifetime. That was before she came along. And when he first laid eyes on your daughter, his daughter, he couldn’t stop crying after getting over the initial shock that this beautiful baby girl was a part of him. It amazed him that someone like him, hard, vicious, quiet, and dangerous, could create something so precious and small.

Din, however, never planned for any of this. He never prepared himself for a family. For a quiet, settled life in a nice little valley. For you. Even watching his small but perfect family ahead of him, he still couldn’t fathom that fact that this was his. At first, it just didn’t seem… right.

“Din?”

Cara thought she was going to have to grab Mando and shake him. Slap him even, if it woke him up from his anxiety induced trance. You stood there, swollen belly and a fury of emotions; shock, a double take, comprehension, grief, acceptance, then anger. Pure anger that even had the ex trooper scared.

“Y-Y/N.” Din breathed. It felt—good, saying your name like that again without the pain punching him in the gut. The guilt, yes that was still there of course. But you were there, standing in front of him, carrying his child and looking like you were absolutely ready to murder him. It kinda made him feel whole again.

“Cara,” you said with a calmness that made Cara shiver. “Can you please leave us alone for a minute?”

Din was rightfully terrified. You may have been heavily pregnant, but he knew without a doubt that you would and could destroy him.

You were seething in your silent rage. He could sense it. And because of that, he didn’t dare say another word until you did.

“Why?” You said calmly; a hidden storm waiting to explode with devastating rage.

That one word, so simple and short, was enough to make him shudder out a breath, so filled with unshed tears and a heartache so strong that it was going to kill him.

“I had t—”

“Don’t,” you snarled, your voice layered with the tears streaming down your cheeks. “Don’t you dare say that, Din. You didn’t have to, you wanted to.”

His heart broke all over again. He made the love of his life, his rock, his world, believe that he—he didn’t want her. You truly believed him when he said it, and he knew it was no one’s fault but his own, but hearing it from you was a whole nother thing on its own. It made it feel even more real, a sin he couldn’t cleanse.

“So tell me,” you continued when he didn’t speak. “Tell me why you’re here. If you didn’t want me, or…” she gulped, furiously wiping away the tears, not that it did much good. “Or love me anymore. Why are you here?” Then realization dawned on you. “Cara.”

“She brought me here. I didn’t know…” That probably wasn’t the best thing to say, but it was the truth.

Your face hardened and your eyes became colder. “How long are you staying?”

He shrugged his shoulders. He couldn’t find the words he wanted to say, the words that crippled him and ate away at him. The words he wanted to say to you.

You laughed humorlessly, all the while cradling your bump. Din couldn’t stop staring at it, and at the same time he had a hard time looking at it too.

“Fine. Just… just leave me alone, Din.” You said and started to walk away.

It’s like time slowed down and his life flashed before his eyes. His heart pounded with a vengeance and everything just… stopped.

And he couldn’t do it. Not anymore, and not this time. He let you go before, practically threw you out, and this had to be a chance, right? His second chance at redemption. Not just for leaving you, but for everything bad thing he had ever done in his life; every life he’d ever taken, every bad decision he ever made, it was all screaming at him, taunting him.

“Stop!” He shouted.

You halted right in your steps, stiff and back turned towards him. You didn’t turn around, only tilted your head to the side to let him know you were listening.

“And why should I Din? You made it perfectly clear last time—”

“I’m sorry.” He stopped you. “I’m so fucking sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for leaving you, for not being there for you. I’m sorry that I thought of myself, I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you…” He could’ve kept going if you didn’t interrupt him.

“Didn’t tell me what?” You demanded, now facing him.

Your eyes held so much in them. Blurred and red from your tears but still just as breathtaking, especially in the sun. Din couldn’t take his eyes away from them, despite the fact that you couldn’t see, and took a step forward. When you didn’t flinch or step back, he took another, and another and another until your stomach barely touched him.

“I—there knew your name.” He finally said. “Quarries, dangerous people. And I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. Before, well it wasn’t as strong before—kriff you know what I mean, right? Along the lines I… I fell in love with you and I never stopped. I’m weak. I’ve become so weak in my desperation to—to save you, that I just…”

He didn’t know how to finish it. He hoped that you could understand what he was saying to you. He hoped that you could see beyond his helmet, his armor, like he was so convinced you could do. He hoped that you could forgive him. It didn’t have to be now, but he hoped.

You didn’t waver, only looked him over with hard eyes. He let you assess him, even growing increasingly nervous under the cover of the unknown. Your jaw clenched and you bounced on your heel; Din immediately recognized this as you breaking.

“Din,” you suddenly whispered. “I can’t… if you have no plans at all, of staying and fully committing to this child.” You shook your head, biting down on your lip to keep yourself from sobbing. Sobbing at the image of Din walking away from you again, the man you gave practically everything to, the one who opened himself up to you—it was a sight you couldn’t stand, but you would do anything for your baby, and you would not let anyone, not even the Mandalorian, hurt him or her in any way.

Din nodded. “I know.” He took a deep breath. “This is all… very new to me. I can’t say I’ll be a great father, or a—a lover.”

“Stay,” you said. “I—I’m not going to entirely forgive you right away, and there’s gonna be a lot of moments where I’m going to be very pissed off at you, and they’re going to come randomly. There’s going to be moments where I may not trust you to the fullest extent. We’re going to have to really work at this if we want it to work. Understand?”

He nodded to the point of giving himself a little headache under the weight of the helmet; the joy of another chance overweighed the uncomfortableness. “Yes. Thank you.”

You gave him a final stare and hard nod before saying, “Alright then, tin can.”

You smiled then, small but fuck. It was perfect. A whole new light of hope that he could touch. Speaking of—

“M-may I?” He asked nervously.

It took you a moment to register what he meant, but when it clicked your face relaxed and warmed up. “Yes.”

It felt so… he couldn’t describe it. You were like an foreign object to him—no, it was the baby growing inside of you. His baby. He wasn’t sure on how to touch you, or how he was supposed to eventually hold this special creature. Din was going to try his fucking damnest to make it work.

He recalled that memory with a fond smile. It brought him to this moment. Now, without the familiar weight of the Creed on him, he took a deep inhale of fresh, sweet air and exhaled with a tilt of his lip.

“Din?” You said again.

Din blinked down at you lazily, smiling in his haze. “Yes, cyar’ika?”

You wrapped your arms around his waist with a lopsided smile and squinted eyes; there wrinkles around them now, and you were just as beautiful as the day he met you. His own wrapped around yours, holding you tightly to him.

“I think there’s a storm coming.” You mumbled into the crook of his neck, lips barely brushing against the juncture of it but still giving him shivers. “We gotta get the kids inside soon.”

“Hmm.”

You looked up at him curiously. “Hey,” you whispered. “Where’d you go?”

The laughter of his children continued to echo. It used to bring nothing to him other than an occasional longing for something more than the life he had. But now, it was so much more and he had you to thank. It all started with you.

“No where’s.” He whispered back. “I’m right here.”

Tags: @scarlett-berserker, @justlovetoreadfics, @lil-baby27, @mando-vibes, @beepbeepyabitch, @that-void-witch, @im-the-music-whore, @certifiedhunter, @softpedropascal, @domino-oh-damn, @okaydacre, @lemongrove, @appreciating-chase-brody, @iwontforgettheapplepie, @mybabyboytony, @olyamoriarty, @pcrushinnerd, @elusive-ivory, @dizzydazed, @bluejeancntrygrl, @dadzawas-eyebags, @moonstruck-witchy @our-mrlangdon, @parody-the-emi, @evalynanne, @purplewaterbird, @vikingqueen28, @tedpicklez, @blunt-cake-yes, @agoldin, @lustriix, @readsalot73, @kateb013, @eupphoriaaa, @imalovernotahater, @everything-lost-and-unsaid, @dlmafa1, @hoodedbirdie, @drunkenliterary, @fioccodineveautunnale, @fangirlfree, @mrsparknuts, @amarvelousmandalorian, @ironheart-hanako, @bunniotomia, @thisisthe-way, @sando-rann, @meganoid1997, @adikaofmandalore, @cahooter, @charliepeaceout, @dreamgirl-67, @phoenixhalliwell, @acrylics-and-sunshine, @sunkissed-winter, @oloreaa, @equalstrashflavoredtrash, @dyn-djarin

#omg i finally did it here you go #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #pedro pascal #star wars #out of love #fanfic #the mandalorian imagines

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