“I understand no more.
Thy words are riddles.”
Euripides - Alcestis
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Welcome to another Mashup Monday!
Summary: Din and Tra'laar take a much needed vacation.
Word Count: 515
Rated Explicit: brief mentions of sex
Inspired by: The OC and story come from my beautiful friend @lellowberry and this stunning work of art that she created.
It was dark and cool in the luxurious hotel room. Quite a rare spurge for Clan Djarin. Months of battling creatures, slogging through jungles, digging through caves and tangling with sentient plants had resulted in two very battled-worn, smelly and scarred Mandalorians. Tra’laar was positive when the bedraggled clan had arrived the desk attendant’s eyebrows had shot straight up into his hair. She was certain they were quite the sight. Anywhere her family went, their shiny armor and long-eared son tended to attract attention, but plant slime, battle scars, and a thick sulfur stench could do that too.
The attendant had been prepared to send the filthy peasants away, refusing to be in the presence of their filth any longer but Din had slapped down a bag stuffed to the brim with credits on the desk with gusto. Their months of pain and suffering were now paying off in the form of a much needed anniversary getaway.
Gawking at the money, the attendant apologized instantly for treating such valued guests with such rudeness and began securing the nicest room in the hotel; the deluxe pent house suite. The room in question stood at one of the highest points in the city, second only to the Coruscant Trade Center. The view was breath-taking and the city lights bathed the sleek room with a warm glow. It was spacious and far more comfortable than the cramped Razorcrest hull.
Showers were had, a squealing green toddler was given a bubble bath, a luxurious dinner was ordered through room service and then bedtime stories were read until big, languid eyes slipped closed with slumber.
And that’s when the fun began.
Months on the road meant very little time for intimacy, especially with Grogu sleeping above them. Snatches of forbidden sex was had here and there when time and opportunity presented itself. But Grogu was now sleeping in the second bedroom at the other end of the suite and Tra’laar knew Din would make it up to her tonight.
And boy, was she right.
Their movements were slow and sensual. Her husband took his time, worshiping every bit of her body. They were free of their armor and helmets. The skin to skin contact alone was almost overwhelming. His girth filled her as he buried his face against her neck and rutted into her. Tra’laar’s fingers ran up and down his strong back before burying in the hair at the nape of his neck. A growl rumbled through his throat as he snapped his hips, causing waves of pleasure to wash over her. Her heart swelled with love for the man in her arms. He treated her like she was his whole universe and she wanted to give him everything.
Long after their passionate romp, the two Mandalorians stay wrapped in each other’s arms. Exhaustion was tugging them into slumber but there was warmth and security in each other. Din rested his cheek against Tra’laar’s head, taking in the sweet smell of her as dreams started to dance before his closed eyes. He was lulled into total relaxation when his wife started to run her hand lightly up and down his back.
As Din drifted off to sleep and Tra’laar knew she wasn’t far behind, she felt at peace. Din was her home, her guiding light.
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Okay I’m new but I wanted to get something. Out there. As my first post. I write fan fic right now I’m doing one on Wattpad…. But I could write here too just let me know!!!
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This is about health workers and police force
This is about people who helped us in the time when we were at home, being alone.....
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Name ZERO O CLOCK..
Are you gonna be happy?
You asked me if I was really smiling?
You cared about my feelings
You knew my real sufferings
The loneliest creature on planet earth
This feeling that filled my heart
Made it hard to laugh
Made it hard to breath
Made me upset for no reason
Made it heavy to walk
Made me so heavy
I started to become numb towards
love happiness hope tears
Peeping through the windows
It looked like mid night
Clocks showed ZERO O CLOCK
with a little spark you entered my room
Turning it into the purple ocean
Made the loneliest whale happy as you joined our hands together
I started to smile in my dreams
While sleeping you left
But you leaving did not made me upset
Rather made me happy
Gave me peace
Cause at ZERO O CLOCK you came in my dreams to make sure
In the end I am a little more happier
Hope you like it
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Say it. Tell them. I love you. So many people wait, they wait till the "right time" but when is it ever the right time? We act as if we have all the time in the world. But we don't. We could all be dead tomorrow. So say it, and say it loud. I LOVE YOU! Love does not have a set time, so say it.
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A NEW CHAPTER DROPPED!
You know what to do! Get in there and read it and leave a comment! <3 I want everyone to shower Happy_Synthesizer with praise and support for this story. It’s great and I want moooore!
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Hey guys!! Before I start posting, I want to let you all know about the string of posts that are about to come out.
This wonderful person @randommanorwomanoralien has graced all our lives, honestly, and written a Napoleon x Reader imagine!! The next 8 posts are it, so read along and enjoy!
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that ‘pakige?’ post but me, a couple hours after posting a fic, like ‘comints?’
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the in-universe explanations were (get this) also written by the writer
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look i would LOVE to fall asleep but sadly my brain is still waiting for Tonight's Fantasy Scenario so i can spend 60-90 minutes daydreaming quietly in the dark while waiting for the gaping abyss of sleep to swallow me whole, i have a ROUTINE
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“Now there were stars overhead, hanging like frozen spears of light, stabbing the night sky.”
Neil Gaiman - American Gods
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Hey yes it's me again, reminding yall to SUPPORT CONTENT CREATORS and REBLOG ART AND WRITING :)
because appearently people here forgot that the ones who post original content would like to be supported. (and not because we're selfish, but because CREATING ORIGINAL CONTENT IS DIFFICULT AND TAKES TIME, and not receiving support is really demotivating. )
Now take a look at these.
The notes i used to get some months ago:
And the notes i get now:
People literally stopped reblogging art. (and tumblr hiding our posts and not suggesting them to other people SURELY DOESN'T HELP😀) Which makes me wonder.
WHY TF AREN'T PEOPLE REBLOGGING ORIGINAL CONTENT ANYMORE?
Reblogging is the only way you can help artists and writers to get the stuff they post seen by others, and it lets us understand that people care about what we do. Consider it like... giving a tip to the artist: they make original content, and if you really like it, you reblog it, helping them and also making them happy :). (Also if people don't reblog, small artists will never have the occasion to shine so PLEASE do it.)
Also, Liking a post is nice, yeah, but unfortunately it won't get the post anywhere.
So. If you like an artist/writer and wish to support them, LIKE but also REBLOG, it takes two seconds to click that green arrow button and share something with your followers and people should learn again how to do that.
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hey fic writers, in case you’re nervous you’re too cliche or not original enough or something, please know a lot of those things readers actively live for. as proof, here are some of infinite examples of things i see in fics all the time that i never ever get tired of
• “uh,” they said, intelligently
• a character realizing they’re in love and immediately thinking “fuck”
• them seeing someone who’s normally well-dressed in comfy/‘unfashionable’ clothes and silently losing it
• stupid poetry about a first kiss. idc if it’s “it feels strangely normal” or “there are fireworks” or “it feels like home/safe” or WHATEVER. go tf for those first kisses babes
• are you writing a fic entirely about friendship? literally you can do no wrong. literally everything you’ve ever done has been correct and i would die for you
• holding hands feeling more intimate than kissing/sex (especially right after the latter happens)
• characters blushing. idgaf if people don’t blush that much irl, i want the bright-tipped ears and the flushes down the neck and the pink-stained cheeks
• “all ___ and ____ and _____”
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Life is a roller coaster.
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Fear we all know this word right? But what is fear where does it comes from who is responsible for this as teenagers we all are scared to do nothing or to say something or sometimes even to think something, cause all of us have a thing called insecurities, what are insecurities now you may ask according to google its (uncertainty or anxiety about oneself) so what do you think why do people suffer have insecurities I am a 18 year old Indian girl and I have tons of insecurities right from my height body weight skin and even marks and the ironic thing is that I am 80 percent scorer, insecurities are nothing but this ocean of thoughts at we dive into which is designed by the word we call society, what society wants and it automatically becomes the way we think “oh society wants fair people more” that very same night we will look in the mirror and think “oh I wish I was fair why did god did this to me” and that’s the start of another insecurity. Over the years what I have learned while dealing with insecurities is that it doesn’t matter how beautiful smart rich you are, there will always be someone better than you, so what matters the most is to start to look at yourself in the most amazing way you can look, cause my friend at the end its you, its you who will go to sleep after turning the lights off and I want you to think that the day you just spend was with the best of you, was the day with you who was confident happy and most importantly free, free of all the thought, all those requirement and all those restriction that the society puts on you cause at the end it you who is gonna look after yourself and not that society who is asking you to change
to peach: HAPPY BDAY THESE ARE ONLY A HANDFUL OF MY FAVORITE SCENES FROM THIS FIC THANK U FOR WRITING IT AND FOR BEING A WONDERFUL HUMAN BEING ‼️‼️💞💗💕🤍
to everyone else: please read chat noir’s white french man hit list for feminist purposes by @peachcitt u will not regret
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hi, one of the main/supporting characters of my fantasy novel (I'm still in the middle of plotting so I'm not sure yet whether I'll write from her POV or not) is appearance-wise inspired by Nepalese and other South Asian people. is giving her blue eyes problematic? she is by far not the only character of color (my protagonist is a black girl and I have more supporting characters of colors, also Asian inspired ones) and most of my characters have brown eyes anyways, but I wanted to check, seeing as I'm a white person. thank you in advance for your response :) (and if it is problematic, I'll change it, it's only a minor detail anyways)
Can my Nepalese and South Asian characters have blue eyes?
A couple of things to clarify here:
Other South Asian characters
Do you have more main/supporting brown-eyed characters of South-Asian descent specifically? Because, if that’s not the case, she might still work as an exoticized brown Other amidst East and South East Asian characters.
BIPOC with light eyes and exoticization
BIPOC women aren’t particularly singled out to be beautiful in mainstream fantasy media and most times their aesthetic is “improved” by Eurocentric features like light eyes and fair hair.
Zoya Nazyalensky from the Grisha Trilogy (coded as- and portrayed by -a woman of South Asian descent) is described as “beautiful” multiple times, but the fulcrum of her beauty is often her blue eyes, with the author turning her into a completely white-passing character in the final book, albeit harnessing her racial conflict for an uninspiring side-plot.
Esmeralda from Notre Dame (Disney)
Esmeralda from Disney’s adaptation of Notre Dame was a French girl with black eyes in the source material, but she is changed to a Romani character who is much more flirtatious and extroverted than her book counterpart and has emerald green eyes, whereas all her community has brown eyes.
Crowd of dark-eyed Romani people from Notre Dame (Disney)
When Sarah J. Maas is not busy killing off POC characters and calling them ugly or plain beside their white counterparts, she makes sure you know they have white hair and green flecks in their eyes which makes them somewhat more palatable.
In Avatar: The Last Airbender (itself fraught with depictions that have often not received the criticism they warrant), the Water tribes, who have noticeably darker skin, are all blue-eyed; waterbending and spirit magic effectively buffering the fact that the two sole dark skinned main female characters in the series have blue eyes. In fact, for a series that has earned so much acclaim for its depiction of Asian culture, Avatar barely has a single South Asian character (let alone brown-eyed) who is depicted with the same depth and nuance as the green/blue/golden eyed benders.
The point I’m trying to make here is that light eye colours are often used to connote beauty and uniqueness in characters of colour (often by white authors) with the underlying assumption that BIPOC look pretty much the same and so they need a Eurocentric qualifier to be truly appealing (Arthur Golden’s Memoirs of a Geisha is a particularly appalling example).
Examine your own biases
Is there a narrative emphasis upon why this character’s eye colour has to be blue?
Perhaps they are on the run and their blue-eyed trait makes it difficult for them to mingle with their other South and East Asian companions?
Do they have a colour change while using magic (think the Twilight vampires’ eyes switching from gold to black, to reflect their hunger)?
I am guessing there isn’t, since you mentioned it’s a minor detail that can be easily removed.
If so, consider why you chose this eye colour in the first place. Examine your own possible internalised biases. Do you want to make your character more special and beautiful than the other Asian characters? Do you think that blue eyes are somehow more aesthetically appealing due to their rarity?
South Asians are not a monolith
Finally, remember this: South Asians are not a monolith, and while brown eyed people are the overwhelming majority, people with blue, green, hazel, grey and other light eye colours do exist, particularly among those of Sindhi/Kashmiri descent in India and Pakistan, as well as Afghanistan, the latter due to their shared inheritance (with the Europeans) of the the blue eye gene. Creating a blue eyed South Asian character is not inherently problematic. However, intentions do matter, and I highly recommend studying cases of the West’s extreme, almost voyeuristic fascination with real-life South Asian people having light eyes. Is it just a simple whimsical desire to appreciate beauty, or is it rooted in a more complicated past of colourism and featurism? I’ll leave these articles for further reference.
Pakistani tea seller lands modelling contract because of blue eyes
Why do so many A-list actresses in Bollywood have Eurocentric features?
What was the Western obsession with green eyed Afghan girl Sharbat Gula really about?
“Fun Facts about Disney’s Mulan” includes a whitewashed, blue-eyed redesign
Brown-eyed girl plugs in her ko-fi, thank you very much.
- Mod Mimi
Ask published Oct 2021
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Ghost hunting was fun for them.
Back in college, they were ridiculed. "Ectology" was a childish, make-believe term. Something to be laughed at. Not to them. Even if other scientists stubbornly kept their minds closed, they would persevere. They were pioneers, explorers of the unknown. Their sense of wonder and curiosity was alive and well. If anything, being outcasts only gave them a stronger sense of purpose.
The day they got the portal working, their dreams became a reality. Ghosts were real. They had real proof. Real specimens. Right in front of their eyes, just waiting to be studied. They'd made a scientific breakthrough for the history books. Decades of hard work finally paid off. All those insults and slander finally proven wrong.
They gladly threw themselves further into their work. They spent days down in their lab, creating, designing, tinkering. Adapting to this new, fascinating, ghost-filled world. They made weapons. Methods of containment. Ghost trackers. Shields. Anything anyone would ever need to deal with any kind of ghost.
They went out and searched. Real ghost hunting. Armed with equipment made by none other than themselves. It was empowering, being on the frontlines, willingly seeking out danger while others ran in fear. And when they fought, they weren't scared, just exhilarated. It was an adventure. They were monster hunters. They were the ones who bravely rushed into battle and triumphed over evil. They felt like heroes.
And they were the best at what they did. The world's leading ghost experts. Builders of the world’s first ghost portal. It was their biggest source of pride. They were right all along. All that time being made fun of, and now they were so successful that they didn't have to answer to anyone.
(Certainly not any naive, unscientific people who tried to tell them they were wrong about their field of study. Or how to do their job.)
Jack and Maddie Fenton loved their work. They loved their at-home lab and their hand-sewn jumpsuits and their self-designed Fentonworks logo. They loved feeling like they were living their childhood fantasies. They loved climbing into their car at night, armed with their newest ecto-guns, following a blip on their ghost radar, just the two of them. Every day was exciting. Every day they discovered something new. It was beautiful.
Ghost hunting wasn't just something they did, it was who they were.
And then one day, Danny reveals the truth.
Their entire world is crushed.
The science they were so proud of and confident in, became flimsy, fabricated theories. Silly, embarrassing fairy tales. Just like everyone always told them they were.
The inventions they lovingly crafted with their own hands, like a blacksmith crafting the sword that will slay the dragon, became cold and heartless instruments of violence. Often with their own son's terrified face at the other end of the barrel.
Their best invention, their pride and joy, their ghost portal, became the empty, dangerous killing machine responsible for the death of their child.
They didn't even notice he was dead.
They didn't notice a lot of things about him.
He knew more about ghosts than them, for one. Much more. He spat out facts about the mysterious, unseen ghost dimension as casually as he talked about his day at school. It made them feel ashamed to have ever claimed to be experts.
He was braver than them, for another. He was so brave it made their stomachs turn. He understood danger and pain and fear like they never have. And he never told a soul.
And maybe worst of all, he was kinder than them. He didn't chase ghosts just to chase ghosts. He wasn't looking for specimens or information. He didn't throw himself into battle for the glory of it. He simply did it because he cared about other people.
This whole ghost thing... It was no longer about them.
With one undeniable fact, they're slapped in the face with the brutal reality that they're not the heroes of this story.
Danny's reveal forces them to see the consequences of their actions.
Suddenly, this is bigger than them. Suddenly, they have to be careful. Suddenly, there's real burdens to carry and real dangers to face.
Suddenly, there's a messy, bloody first-aid kit hidden under their son's bed. There's nasty scars littering his body. There's a calculated fear in his eyes, that they now understand the source of.
Suddenly, there's responsibility involved.
And suddenly, it's not fun anymore.
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My eighth grade English teacher will always be the coolest fucking man to ever live and I have a story to prove it. To celebrate the end of the first semester, the teachers took the entire eighth grade on a school trip to the local movie theater to watch the tamest PG movie showing at the time: Ralph Breaks The Internet. Unsurprisingly, no eighth grader had any interest in watching the sequel to Wreck It Ralph, but pretty much everyone went anyway because why the heck not?
So we all walk to the theater and everyone’s just chilling and talking about stuff completely unrelated to the film, just excited to be spending school hours not listening to a lecture. The theater dims and everyone quiets down with a few mumbles here and there. The screen lights up and here comes the logos and-- wait a minute, Sony?! Where’s the Disney logo? And why’s everything all glitchy?! The air is thick with confusion, and what comes on instead of Ralph Breaks The Internet? Fucking Spider-Man: Into The Spiderverse, hours before its first showing in our area. Turns out our old, mild mannered English teacher wanted to surprise us and checked in with all the teachers on the way there to ask if he could convince the theater to swap out Ralph for Spiderverse. The theater thankfully said yes, resulting in probably the greatest moment of shared confusion and excitement in my life. Shoutout to Mr B for gifting me such a fond experience with one of the best films of all time.
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