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#babe!!!!! i kNOW YOU READ THESE
inkskinned · 6 months
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love when men cry about body hair bc "it's hygiene" and yet 15% of cis men leave the bathroom without washing their hands at all and an additional 35% only just wet their hands without using soap. that is nearly half of all men. that means statistically you have probably shaken hands with or been in direct contact with one of these people.
love when men say that women "only want money" when it turns out that even in equal-earning homes, women are actually adding caregiver burdens and housework from previous years, whereas men have been expanding leisure time and hobbies. in equal-earning households, men spend an average of 3.5 hours extra in leisure time per week, which is 182 hours per year - a little over a week of paid vacation time that the other partner does not receive. kinda sounds like he wants her money.
love that men have decided women are frail and weak and annoying when we scream in surprise but it turns out it's actually women who are more reliable in an emergency because men need to be convinced to actually take action and respond to the threat. like, actually, for-real: men experience such a strong sense of pride about their pre-supposed abilities that it gets them and their families killed. they are so used to dismissing women that it literally kills them.
love it. told my father this and he said there's lies, damned lies, and statistics. a year ago i tried to get him to evacuate the house during a flash flood. he ignored me and got injured. he has told me, laughing, that he never washes his hands. he has said in the last week that women are just happier when we're cooking or cleaning.
maybe i'm overly nostalgic. but it didn't used to feel so fucking bleak. it used to feel like at least a little shameful to consider women to be sheep. it just feels like the earth is round and we are still having conversations about it being flat - except these conversations are about the most obvious forms of patriarchy. like, we know about this stuff. we've known since well before the 50's.
recently andrew tate tried to justify cheating on his partner as being the "male prerogative." i don't know what the prerogative for the rest of us would be. just sitting at home, watching the slow erosion of our humanity.
#writeblr#warm up#ps edited so it is more clear where “half” of men is coming from:#15% literally don't even touch water#an ADDITIONAL 35% ''wash'' by just running their hands under water WITHOUT SOAP#15+35 =50%#like that is not washing ur hands. go back and use soap#btw the numbers for women are 4% never washing and 15% ''just water''#which is still gross but like. sooo much better yikes#ps i know we're all gay on this site but watching ppl ''correct'' my math on this has been wild#i have a learning disability im genuinely bad at math so i check EVERY time someone corrects me#but no they're just confidently wrong.....#182 hours is a week babes. 182/24 (number of hours in a day) is ~7.6#that's where i got that number from. also from rent we know there's 168 hours in a week.#ALSO btw if u read this and ur response is ''men are also struggling rn tho'' like babe you missed the point of it tho#this doesn't even make fun of men it's legit just pointing out that bigotry against women isn't founded#in anything men actually CARE about . like they don't actually CARE about ''being clean'' when they make fun of armpit hair#or they would be WASHING THEIR HANDS.#men pretend to be rollin' in cash and Apex Predators and instead they are trained to be lazy and unwilling to act in emergencies#i have never and will never make fun of men for asking for more support on important topics like DV and mental health.#this is so clearly not about men; it's about how common just being plainly misogynistic has become.#like they don't try to hide it anymore.
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frankly-alien · 7 months
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Rip to the scifi writers now and before, but if I had a whole android in my immediate vicinity who could think and feel, we would be best friends. They'd be my buddy, my ro-bro, my servo-sister, my circut-sibling. I'd be like "this is LKH - 4739.9 and they're so cool. They move too quickly and too precisely and they say odd shit for no reason. They are very bad at emoting and they either can't understand or choose to ignore social ques. They can't be near magnets or water. If any of you are mean to them so help me God I will fight you myself, I will fight you myself."
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14dayswithyou · 1 month
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[18 May 2022] Ren looks like a character who knows he's in the game... I must be very misunderstood. lol ...right?
Yes! He's very self aware, and even hacked the game so you wouldn't find out his real name or get his bad end ^^
20 Feb 2024 EDIT: Slight retcon; I don't think Ren would be self aware that he's in a game, per se. He's aware that he can prevent information from being revealed and change the course of the narrative — which might seem strange if he really thought about it (Like... No one else has shown signs of having this ability...) — but he doesn't know that his world is a "video game" or that the player exists. I hope this makes sense!!
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vitasexualiiis · 8 months
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poor fukuzawa is soooo out of his element with these two???
there's no way between mori, dazai, and ranpo he doesn't feel like a stone cold dumbass like 75% of the time even though he'd otherwise be the smartest person in the room.
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wyvernwinds · 1 month
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fitz, actively dying, covered in skill magic, poison worms in his body, losing his memories by the second, can barely even move: fool what are we
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imdamagecontrol · 14 days
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hellooooo i have been meaning to add the spanish translations to the end of the chapters in cmu but i've been really really busy and haven't had much time to go back so i'll get to it
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bookdork1 · 4 months
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the buccaneers is like fun and soapy bridgerton, but like set in the generation before downton abbey starts (because the mom in that is a rich american he married for her money), very clearly that's the aesthetic they were going with. but. goddamn there's some darkness going on in this show that's chugging right along parallel with the classic love triangle and the exploring lesbian girlies we're all rooting for.
to start, there's one of the most incredibly well done examples i've ever seen of a controlling and emotionally abusive relationship. the girl involved is just wilting beneath her husband and his demands. there's also a scene that truly illustrates how hard it sometimes is for a woman to talk about abuse she's endured at the hands of a man because---he definitely did something wrong but if you try and say it aloud, even as a fan watching the show, it sounds flimsy as hell. but its not this is clearly an action the character is taking that is meant to humiliate and belittle and endanger a woman and it is intentional. but its still hard to justify into words even though its COMPLETELY JUSTIFIED THE SHOW DOES NOT WAVER ON THIS. but it is exactly why it can sometimes be so hard to talk.
and then there's an incredibly disturbing and sickening thing going on with another character and i'm just sitting here like. what the fuck. because this man. he was definitely abused by his governess when he was young and. he has no idea. at least in this time period there's no words to put to what he experienced and its just kind of started to be implied but he obviously doesn't know that what happened to him was wrong.
my point in talking about these things isn't to put you off the show its just that i expected exactly none of this when i first saw a vid about the buccaneers and thought "ooh bridgerton-esq pining, yes i'll watch". don't get me wrong. i like that this show isn't just sticky sweet and that it is willing to go a little dark and show us characters who are fucked up in all kinds of ways. but it might be good for some people to go in with a little warning.
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kedsandtubesocks · 9 months
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Hold On, Hold On
pairing: Cowboy!Din Djarin x Fem!Reader
summary: Your cowboy leaves for another bounty and you face how fragile a home can be
wc: 4.7k
warnings: 18+ only. MDNI, old west AU, semi established relationship, violence and town in peril, deep yearning, light angst but happy ending, heavy make-out session that gets a bit heated and spicy at the end
a/n: this is based off the season 3 episode ‘the pirate’ except with bandits lol, the title of this is from another neko case song of the same name (no surprise) I have a whole little collection of Cowboy Din pieces but this works as a good stand alone! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy & biggest thank you to my cowgal forever @skeletoncowboys this is for you I love ya
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The wilderness calls to your bounty hunting cowboy once again.
“Don’t know how long this one is going to take. So I’m having the kid come with me.” Din tells you, his black bandana covering his face.
As much as you understand, an ache swells through your chest fast.
Would this be the last time you saw him? Saw either of your boys that have become beautiful fixtures in your life?
Something as dangerous as a storm rips through your mind. This all is temporary and you knew that.
Nothing is sure or set in stone with a man who chases after demons in the desert.
Din’s occupation as a bounty hunter meant he jumped around from town to town, never settling in a place for too long. Even with a ward in his care, you understood there was no need for him to grow roots in a particular community.
The only reason why he often brought his bounties here was because the mayor of your town was a previous member of the same bounty hunting guild Din is in. You never even knew bounty hunters held guilds. But that is the life you are wading through now.
It’s the life that’s led you to this, to seeing Din and the baby off on their journey.
You kiss the kid goodbye. His sweet pudgy cheeks puff up so warmly when he smiles at you.
“Keep an eye on your dad, little bug,” you tell the baby as you poke his sweet little nose. He giggles and it’s a sound you will treasure.
“Alright kid, let’s go.” Din croaks low as he shifts the baby up into his arms.
You haven’t been able to look Din in the eyes since he announced his departure. You don’t even know why this particular trip is affecting you so much.
“I packed a few extra slices of bread.” You explain rapidly. “And I know you’re still upset that I’m having you take one of my quilts but trust me, I’d rather you two have it-“
He cuts off your rambling quietly with the soft whisper of your name. It strikes fast like lightning shot through your spine.
Now you can’t help but turn your gaze up to him.
The whispers around this man painted him to be an omen because you could never see his eyes.
That part is true. The shadow of Din’s hat casts a deep shadow heavily blocking any chance of getting a good look at him in the eye. Then his bandana completely hides him from the nose down. At times he truly exists as a faceless phantom, a wandering ghost that has now found residence in your heart’s chambers.
But right now, this phantom stares directly at you and you can clearly see the eyes of this righteous man.
You’ve seen his face, kissed his soft lips. But his eyes…
Those rich soil eyes hold so much emotion and now hold your entire soul captive in their gaze.
You say nothing, don’t even know what to tell him.
A goodbye feels too simple. A please come home safe doesn't sound true because was this really his home?
Would this ever be his home?
And could you ever house a man as wild as a tumbleweed?
“Thank you.” Din speaks first. However, that simple thank you is all he says.
Your arms ache to embrace him. Your lips wish you were brave enough to yank the cloth across his face down to kiss him with every inch of your love.
He suddenly nods at you and you only nod back.
Without another word Din jumps onto his horse. The animal, which you believe hates you, now lets you softly pet him. You wish you could appreciate this small step but heaviness clogs your heart too much for any other emotion to pass.
The baby makes a soft whimper and both you and Din snap your attention to him. With his chubby sweet little fingers, your little bug simply waves a sad soft thing at you. He’s so smart, the kid, and you swallow back hard as you wave back. Your eyes return to Din.
The shade of his hat now has you searching harder for his eyes.
This time you can’t find them.
Nothing else is said.
Din simply kicks his heels against his horse and then begins a slow ride away.
No breeze of the wind carries them. This time it is only the stillness of the desert. For some reason, as you watch them dwindle further and further away, the stillness scares you more.
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Summer beats down an unforgiving heat.
The air gets thick with the dry dust and you’re thankful for the cool nights that settle in. The early evening breeze from the open window already feels refreshing as you finish buying a few provisions from the commissary.
The clerk, an older man whose wife you are fond of, gently says your name hesitantly. His eyes are even a bit nervous and you ready yourself for whatever he asks.
“What…whatever happened to that young babe you had with you?”
You had previously been in the store many times with the baby happily cuddled in your arms. You used to cover him with a small light quilt to keep him safe from any curious eyes. You didn’t want them recognizing him if they saw the baby with your bounty hunter. But of course, the sight of you suddenly with a new babe did spark a few curious conversations.
Now your lips twitch but out of a fondness soaked in an aching sadness.
You haven't seen your boys for three months.
It’s the longest they’ve ever been gone. Not even a letter has been sent your way. But then again, you don’t take Din as one to write letters. The panic, the sleepless nights worrying if they were alright, all those emotions bleed into a numbness now. You simply wade through it all like trying to find an exit out of a sandpit slowly sinking you.
Swallowing the canyon sized lump in your throat, you simply give a brave false smile to the clerk staring so worried now.
You remember once jokingly telling him you had grown the baby in your garden. After all, you had first found the little terror eating your carrots.
“The wind swept him away from me,” you reply and you even hear the hollowness you cannot hide in your tone.
The clerk curiously frowns confused but his eyes seem to read past your brave face. He comfortingly pats your hand still on the counter and wishes you a safe walk back to your cabin.
With a grateful small grin you move to head out of the store.
Then the air bursts with a violent and loud crack.
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Bandits are not a new occurrence to you or to the town. Once in a blue moon, a couple of them would arrive, make a ruckus at the saloon or unfortunately leave the town with more than they came with.
But the bandits arriving now come in a wave, like a mass of locust swarming in so fast you didn’t have time to think. And you didn’t. The explosion comes and you and the clerk give each other a petrified look before dashing outside.
Smoke rises from the edge of town and your heart sinks horrified at the chaos quickly consuming. The raiders ride in fast. The sticks of dynamite in their hand speak of a sinister threat of what was to come if anyone tries to stop them.
You move fast, trying to help your dear clerk to his house to be with his wife. You try to keep low. But when you are up against a swarm, it’s hard to outrun their staggering numbers.
Anywhere you turn the raider’s sinisters faces laugh proud and wild from on top of their horses. Some of them even chase on foot like released devils. It’s a bedlam choking your throat in panic.
Leave. You have to leave, find shelter or at least hide in your home.
Thankfully a group of you, including Mayor Karga, band together and flee fast from the town out past the outskirts. You all make camp on a secluded hillside that overlooks the town.
In the dead of night, the town illuminates a destructive crimson that has your legs wanting to give out.
“Don’t worry everyone!” Karga with his steady leveled heads guidance calls out in the night to you and the others townsfolk. “Before we evacuated I sent a telegram to my best man! He will come!”
For some reason your mind immediately flashes to Din.
You almost want to laugh. Of course your love sick heart would clutch onto the idea of him during a perilous moment of turmoil. He was a known fighter, though you had never seen him in combat. But a sharp internal voice striking as sharp as a rattlesnake tells you not to put your faith in bounty hunters.
Not even Din.
You squeeze away the tears clouding up your eyes and try to sleep alone under the desert’s ever watchful eye.
Staring up at the clear beautiful sky, you watch as the stars twinkle down below.
There were children’s tales about wishing on stars, on how seeing one fly across the sky was the reminder of how quick and fast wishes come. You remember even telling that story to your favorite little carrot stealing bug.
Emotions clog your throat even more at the thought of the baby and his father.
Something in you whispers to make a wish. That maybe at this hour of feeling so lost, a wish is all you have.
But again, wishing on stars, wishing for bounty hunters to make a miraculous return from the horizon, is for children. And you are too old to hold onto wishes when your town faces a real chaos that wishes might not be able to maybe save.
A day passes among the hills.
The next day, talk bubbles among some of the townsfolk to try and take the county back. But even you know the ammunition would not withstand the sheer force of the bandits.
And the bandits are apparently a stubborn group.
Their leader, a terrifying man with a wild beard by the name of Gorian Shard, announces with a loud voice to Karga they will never leave.
“A fair retribution for you not serving my men and then discovering your precious bounty hunter killed more of my comrades!”
Your heart again jumps at the thought of it being Din.
But your mind races to the worst possibilities. Did he encounter these raiders and not make it out alive? What about the baby?
You refuse to let yourself dwindle on those thoughts. You can’t. You have to find a way to keep moving, find a way out of this situation.
The townsfolk grow restless and worried, more so than you.
“Now everyone please, just hold on. I know help is on the way!” Karga urges, a voice of reason and faith. It settles everyone enough as another night among the wilderness arrives.
This time clouds cluster in the skies above and hide the stars. You think it’s fitting as you go to sleep with tears in your eyes.
You think of Kargas words, the idea of holding onto faith. You suppose even now a part of you still greedily clutches onto a last bit of hope that you’ll see your cowboy again.
You glance up at the cloudy sky again.
Even though there are no stars out, your heart now sends out a whisper of a wish. It’s a simple one.
What else do you have to lose making a wish now?
So you wish for safety - for you, for the town, and for your two boys that you hope more than ever are alive.
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Soft low mummering wakes you up. Above stretches a soft periwinkle blue morning sky. When you rise you find so many staring down towards the town.
When you go to see what has everyone in a commotion, your breath gets snatched right out of your chest.
Din is fast on his horse.
He moves rapidly between the buildings and among the shadows that you believe you might have just imagined him.
But then, he swiftly rides out from a sharp corner and shoots three bandits down.
The towns people cry in absolute cheer but your eyes are on the cowboy moving like a phantom. It really is him.
Din.
He’s not alone though. More riders move in to take down the bandits but everyone including yourself focus on the mystery rider.
“Isn’t that the man with no eyes!? The one with the face you can’t even see?” Someone whispers.
“No…can’t be.” Another voice argues.
Karga suddenly chuckles, warm and reassured. “Trust me, my friends. That is indeed the same bounty hunter. He’s ours.”
A sharp flash of possessiveness rises.
You want to correct the Mayor and say he’s yours. That bounty hunter is your bounty hunter, the one who’s son eats from your garden, the bounty hunter who’s favorite fruit is oranges, whose face you knew and existence is now carved a deep cavern in your heart.
Din.
Your bounty hunter.
He’s a wonder to watch in action. Smooth, swift, firing with precision and maneuvering with an almost grace.
Your throat goes dry thinking of how strong this cowboy is the same one who once got flustered when he told you he can’t dance.
The bandits are effortlessly taken down by Din and the reinforcements he brought. Peace returns with the warm dawn. A beautiful relieved joy bursts through the crowd as everyone starts the descent back to the town. Your legs barely carry you but you eventually find yourself there among your town.
Rubble lines the streets. A few shops including the cantina took the worst damage. A steady rebuild is already being discussed among the townsfolk but your attention rests entirely on the black bandana wearing man.
He’s alive.
The baby sits cozy in his arms, smiling as bright as a new sun. Your mind can’t even process the thought of Din riding into battle with the kid.
Then a woman walks towards him.
Her gait is steady, confident. When she removes her hat to wipe her face, striking auburn colored hair falls from under her hat. She is lovely and it dawns on you that she was with the reinforcements.
You can’t help but admire her for being a part of the group who help liberate and retrieve your home. But when she moves closer to talk to Din, even playfully smiles at the baby, your heart starts deflating.
Soon Karga walks forward to speak to the hunters and the townspeople.
The entire time he talks you stay hidden against the shadow of a building, watching. The woman stands next to Din the entire time and grins so fondly. That look only intensifies when she goes to stare at him. Her eyes are molten and when Din turns back to her, he nods.
You hate that you cannot see his eyes.
The wilderness is not a forgiving thing. It brings in many travelers that simply come and go and it seems Din might be one of them. Because of course he would be close with another, a true cowgirl who can handle the wilderness and his ever changing lifestyle.
He never mentioned another woman in his life, but you suppose you wouldn’t either if you were in his position.
You wonder now if your existence to him was a simple way to pass the time, if you were just a quiet pit stop not ever meant to hold him for long. You try not to let these acidic jealous thoughts poison you, but it’s too late.
Before Din can turn to look towards the crowd, you turn on your heels and walk away against the shadows of the building.
You go to help the clerk, his sweet wife clean up the shop as best as you can.
“I wonder if the bounty hunter we’ve seen around here with the black bandana is handsome?” The clerk’s wife offers trying to lighten the space and her husband chuckles.
You stay quiet while your heart whispers out that yes, that bounty hunter is quite handsome.
When exhaustion mixes too dangerously with the heartbreak still brimming in your body, you decide to slip home.
You don’t even realize how long this day has been until you step out of the shop and find the sun already making her way to bed over the horizon.
It's comforting in a strange way.
The sun will rise again tomorrow, a new day, and so will you. You will move on.
You walk forward, straight out of the town and to the outskirts to where your cabin sits. You want to cry seeing your home thankfully still standing. A few animals are gone. Some crops and even stored goods from the shed have been stolen. The inside of your house is a ransacked clutter.
In the stillness, among the settled destruction, quiet tears sting your eyes.
You don’t know if it’s from the exhaustion of these past few days or the ache knowing your bounty hunter might be taken away from you by something fiercer than the wilderness.
He’s alive, your heart whispers.
You got your wish.
And that is true, but heavens above the truth hurts a violent ache.
Footsteps against the porch outside make you jump and whip around to stare from inside your house. There against your open doorway stands a beautiful shadow.
“Din…” Your voice even sounds hollow saying his name.
He pulls his mask down. His stunning handsome face stares at you wide as if you’re the phantom. Then he moves with a blinding speed you witnessed against the bandits.
In quick steps he is suddenly before you and then, you are in his arms.
He smells of gunpowder, sweat and something faintly him. It’s intoxicating and you can’t even stop yourself. Your arms wrap around him tight.
He breathes your name out and you think it might even sound like a shaken watery prayer.
“I didn’t see you among the others and I thought…I thought the worst, honey.” Din speaks with a heavy tone as thick as a torn bush.
That sweet but cursed nickname ignites a tender warmth through your body.
“I did too, about you.” You reply back small and in a waterlogged voice. “Haven’t seen you in months and I thought…”
You can’t even utter the words.
You instead simply allow yourself this moment to hold him tight.
“I know.” Din answers low. “The job took a lot longer than I thought. I’m sorry.”
“But then Karga sent me that ‘gram.” His voice steels hard.
So, it was him that Karga was speaking about.
“And I had to come back.” Din breathes out and squeezes you in his arms. His face even burrows against the top of your head and your eyes go wide.
Quietly your mind conjures up the image of the beautiful woman with the sunset colored hair and your eyes go misty.
So many emotions swirl in you that you can’t even swim against their tides to steady yourself.
A soft coo comes from the door now and instantly you and Din pull away from each other. Waddling in with wide eyes is the baby.
Without hesitation you leave Din’s arms to rush to the kid who once he sees you lights up. Then his arms reach out wide and grabby towards you. So effortlessly you scoop the little critter in your arms and pepper kisses across his face.
His sweet little coos twinkle like the sweetest wind chime.
“You came back just to eat more of my veggies didn’t you, little bug?” You laugh watery as the baby giggles so bright.
For the rest of the evening the little babe stays cozy in your arms refusing to leave even as you and Din slowly start cleaning up the cabin.
It’s a slow, quiet process.
Neither of you ask how the other is, how the other has been these missing months. The tension in the air clouds with a thickness you don’t know how to navigate.
Eventually the baby falls asleep quickly and happily snuggled in the makeshift bed.
Exhausted and in a type of trance all you can do is plop yourself on the edge of your porch. Din with his boots echoing on the wood quietly moves to sit beside you.
“Are you alright?” Din surprisingly speaks first in a comforting and low tone.
“Yeah it’s just… it’s been a long day.” It’s been a long couple of days, a couple of months and now, your ghost is materialized beside you.
“I bet.” Din comforts you so gently. “Don’t worry. We’ll get this place back to the way it was, honey.”
We will.
He included himself in those plans.
“You don’t have to stay too long,” but you reply low into the early evening air. “I understand your work keeps you busy and…”
The words become barbed and cut your throat on the way out.
“I know you had to come back because Karga sent out that distress signal. But I know this isn’t your home.”
Bounty hunters don’t stay in one place for long. He’s teaching you that.
And besides, what home could you truly give him?
The one you have now needs major repairs from the damage done by the bandits. Even before then your life compared to his is a simple mundane quietness that he might grow bored of.
Among the wilderness, the mirage is a sea of deception. It distorts the landscape before your eyes and for some reason that has you thinking of the times Din has returned to you from other jobs. You suppose that is what happened with you and Din. You wandered too deep into an unbelievable daydream and got stuck in the mirage, in the illusion of building a life with this man.
Din is still so far away, just out of your reach shimmering in the distance and untouchable.
After all, your bounty hunter is considered a ghost.
“I…” Din’s voice catches on itself and when you turn to him, the look on his face breaks your soul. His deep soil eyes are glossy, soaked with tears. His mouth opens in a sad frown.
Din swallows hard. Then his gorgeous sun kissed features frown even as confusion flickers in his gaze.
“I did come back for Karga, yes. But I came back because my home was in danger. Because you were in danger.”
His voice is clouded with conviction but running through it is an undercurrent of hurt.
Tears start to stream down your cheeks as free as rivers while you stare at him.
“You had to come home.” You croak the words out and a wild adoration resonates through your body.
Din nods firm, resolved.
You don’t know who moves first, who strikes first, but it doesn’t matter. The two of you are clutching each other and Din’s mouth kisses yours with the same wild power he shows in combat. He’s unrelenting and desperate but you suppose so are you.
The nights were long alone with your hand and simply thinking of his broad back, his beautiful thick neck, the feeling of his strong hands against you. And now, he is real solid flesh and blood beneath your fingertips. His tongue licks into your mouth trying to taste and consume everything you have. Your hands run to his hair and softly his hat falls away leaving you the bare face bounty hunter who you love entirely.
You clutch onto his shoulders and suddenly pull him close not even caring where you are.
Your back hits against the wood of the porch as Din leans down above. Din groans loud when his lips kiss your neck tasting the salt of your skin. Your eyes close in bliss.
He kisses a fiery path down your neck to your shoulders.
“Can I remove this, honey?” His voice is a debauched croak as he tugs at your garment blouse. Those deep eyes of his peer up at you beautiful fathomless abyss you want to fade into. Once you nod quickly he slips your blouse down exposing your chest to the evening air.
You wonder if a wild spirit has possessed you to let Din do this on your front porch but you embrace it. Especially when his tongue begins circling your nipple. Your mouth presses tight to and not let a whine escape you.
He suddenly kisses your breast with tenderness. He’s soft and lets his tongue trace a mindless path against your skin. It makes your body melt. Then he wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks loudly.
Your body leans up trying to get closer to him, trying to grind against any part of him, to get relief.
Din becomes a man possessed himself, licking and sucking both of your breasts until saliva coats them both
You sigh his name to the wind.
He finally draws back to stare down at you. He has never looked more beautiful. His eyes are completely blown out like a moonless night staring at you with pure devotion.
You lean up kiss him not even caring at how cold the air is against your bare chest. You need to be near him, need to consume him as much as he’s already consuming you.
Then the crunch of footsteps on the gravel approaches.
The sound galvanizes you both in a frenzy.
You rapidly yank your blouse up. Din effortlessly leans across you fast, almost covering you, as he whips to face forward. You realize it’s a type of protective move that makes your heart swell.
“I hope I’m not interrupting.” A woman’s voice arrives amused.
Now scrambling up, you gently move Din away. There standing a few feet away from the entrance to the porch is the woman with the sunset hair.
She grins a coy knowing thing and your heart drops.
You stare at her petrified. She simply grins warmer. Then she winks at you before turning her gaze to Din.
“I just wanted to let you know that myself and a few others are heading back to camp. Don’t want to keep my dear wife waiting too long after all.” She chuckles. “I’m assuming you’ll be staying here.”
Wait, wife? Confusion creeps in hearing her words.
“Yes.” Din replies with a curt nod.
“I figured.” The woman smiles and then flickers her attention back to you. With a poised warm expression she nods to you and you nod back, a bit stunned.
“Take care Din, enjoy your time back home. We’ll see you soon.” She says with a deep kindness and you don’t miss the way she phrases Din being back home.
“You as well Bo.” He bids her goodbye.
The woman, Bo, gives you a final warm grin and then walks to her horse you can spot faintly in the darkness.
“Who was that?” You have to ask.
“A good friend. She’s married to my people’s blacksmith. The two of them were the ones who rallied the reinforcements that helped me today.” Din explains simply.
Your eyes go wide. All the jealousy feels embarrassing now and you want to bring that woman back so you can both thank her and apologize.
“I’ll have to thank her and the others soon.” You mutter and Din hums a quiet agreeing noise.
“I would be honored to introduce you to them.” Din affirms.
The confusion you had quickly turns into a slight amusement tickling your lips and a small giggle even almost escapes you.
This day has been a whirlwind finally setting you down on your feet and now here you are, with your cowboy.
So you slide closer to him on the patio and curl your arms around his torso. Your body leans and curls against his back.
Closing your eyes, you burrow your face against Din’s strong solid frame. The fabric of his under shirt smells faintly of sunlight and something uniquely Din.
You kiss his back with the gentlest of pressure and Din draws your arms around him closer. He exhales a deep sigh you feel being so close against him.
A soft summer breeze of the desert breathes new life through the air.
“We’ll have to fix the fence tomorrow.” Din quietly notes and you hum in agreement.
There was much work to do. You even dread for a split moment thinking of all the work that has to be done in the heat tomorrow. But you also imagine the baby wandering around babbling so sweetly as he wears Din’s way too big hat…
And Din being by your side every step.
You squeeze him tighter, a silent apology for ever doubting this incredible force of a man.
“Welcome home.” You whisper to him.
Din’s hand squeezes yours.
“Yeah…M’home, honey.”
In your arms, you have caught a phantom of the wilderness and you plan to hold onto him as long as you can.
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hurglewurm · 6 months
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me: keeps drawing random one-off fanarts from things that aren't currently big at all
also me: why no notes on my arte
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coquelicoq · 1 year
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gurathin, thiago, indah...starting to get the sense that if murderbot didn't have any specific person playing the role of "someone i deep down respect who i'm convinced hates me" at any given time, presaux would have to assign someone, for enrichment purposes
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p1neapplerum · 1 year
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*twirls hair* so there's this freak zealot.....
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futuristiccrystal · 10 months
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Bit of a rant here we go!!!!
PSA to any Redacted fans that follow me:
I do not keep up with anything in the fandom anymore for this reason, so just know that I will not be listening to a single complaint about any future redacted fanart of mine unless it’s a genuine design critique
I literally do not care that you get upset over a non-visual character being portrayed as a certain race, ethnicity, gender, or body type. Each of us have our own interpretations and that it the beauty of being an artist in the ASMR/Audio drama community space. So, if someone drawing a gendered listener genuinely triggers a trauma response in you? That’s on you, not the artist.
If you genuinely believe that artists making their own versions of these characters is actively harming you, and you find yourself having meltdowns over it? You have an incredibly unhealthy attachment to this media. Either you’re a lonely middle/high schooler who’s anxious about your future, or you’re an adult who uses these audios to unhealthily cope with your own stress.
Audio dramas are made for the sole purpose of inviting one’s imagination into the story taking place. And while they can be used as a quick-fix to relax, if you can’t fathom that other people have their own versions of the story, it is not their job to fall to their knees and ask for your forgiveness when you start projecting your discomforts/insecurities onto their personal work.
I’m calling out RedactedASMR fans specifically here because I genuinely cannot believe so many of you are as miserable as you are in this fandom. Leave artists alone. Leave writers alone. And especially? Leave Erik alone
I stg he literally makes these audios because they’re *his* passion project, and yet EVERY episode there’s like 50 of you complaining about how you had a panic attack because of a hyper-specific trigger that genuinely would not happen if you learned to properly cope with your own personal issues. He slaps so many content warnings on his work so you guys won’t be distressed, and yet you listen to it anyways and get butt-hurt when it actually bothers you.
Listen y’all can be absolutely amazing, but there’s a reason why Erik doesn’t interact with any of you anymore. I’m sorry that you went through however tough of a life you’ve had, but that is not any of our faults. Leave the artists and writers alone dude. Block them if you seriously need a clean FYP, but don’t make your personal struggles our collective problem
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hellaephemeral · 8 months
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i hope greta gerwig and the whole team of barbie are having a wonderful day knowing they made men so mad 🩷
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petesdragon · 2 months
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6 best books of 2023 📖👀
I didn't get as much reading done as I wished to, but read and discovered some solid favs going forward, and a few of these I have more to look forward to in upcoming sequels/tbr sequential publications, which is always nice ✨
this was the year of dark fantasy, hot monsters and identifying with unwanted/battered/exploited child characters ✌️ not all exclusive to each other, but some... ok just about all did appear in all the same titles, fuck yea
tagged by the delight that is @evakant - thank'ee! i will try to think of folks to tag 🤔 @solitaryseabirds, @librarycards, @tawnyowll, @dykefaggotry, @myalgias, @oatsmilk, @wizfurb and anyone else who reads, whatever length, format or medium, incl audiobooks and graphic novels! even if you are not tagged, you are invited to participate. yes, you! if you would like to 🤝 comrade
I also have a storygraph for mutuals to add me if they'd like, DM me, yeah?
okie doke, my 6 best books of 2023, listed in order of appearance above, which has been arranged as was best pleasing to mine eye, not in order of bestestness
• Once a Monster by Robert Dinsdale
• Cold Comfort Farm by Stella Gibbons
• Something is Killing the Children (multiple authors/artists)
• Ordinary Monsters by J. M. Miro
• The Skull by Jon Klassen
• The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern
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sneak-a-cat · 11 months
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No because i am actually scared of... that guy in the ronance tag on ao3... how do they have time for that??? they have written 429 fucking things... jesus fucking christ... like i was kind of impressed at first but then they just kept fucking going (and i saw someone who said they steal content? which checks out considering the rate they write at but there was no evidence so i am hesitant to fully back that theory), like all i could do is mute them on ao3 but i would still know its happening??
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prongsmydeer · 3 months
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Things I liked about My Personal Weatherman (2023):
The much-remarked-upon idea that you can create a Pavlovian response in your partner to find sunny weather erotic if you date a meteorologist who only wants to have sex when it's going to be nice out
The reason for that accidental Pavlovian response being that they didn't have a dryer or extra sheets so the meteorologist wants to be considerate of their bedsheets drying on the clothesline
The absolutely unhinged behaviour of being friends with someone for ages and talking about your fave local celebrity crush with them every day, and never once telling that friend that the celebrity crush is your boyfriend
Two people being so incapable of voicing how they're feeling that despite being in a long-term, committed relationship, sleeping together, going on dates and arguably being engaged, they're still confused about if the other person likes them
The idea that despite all of those communication issues, you can maintain a relationship mostly by merit of being really open to constructive criticism, non-verbal gestures and having an obedience kink
A lot of the non-verbal gestures themselves (holding hands, the buying of extra sheets, smiling more, the feeding each other and caretaking when one person isn't well, the moment where Yoh wants to make a charm to make the rain go away)
The concept of falling in love with someone because you think their cooking is terrible and you find it very endearing and you will never tell them how bad it is
Things I didn't like about My Personal Weatherman (2023):
While it is good that Yoh doesn't actually do everything he is told, having the type of relationship they do (ongoing dynamic of obedience and control) and not talking what your boundaries and needs are is a hard pill to swallow, and can lead to concerns around consent
The repeated themes of jealousy and control without actually interrogating what it means for the characters (i.e. just moving past using a tracking device on your partner, lingering questions about financial and emotional dependence)
Mizuki, like many a protagonist, seems to have no friends in his life beyond his partner, and has a hard time accepting his partner spending time with friends. Get some friends, Mizuki!
Absolutely tired of shows framing interest in someone of the same gender as an exception to the rule rather than a part of a person's orientation
They don't get that much better at communicating as the shows goes on! There's hints of it (establishing desires and needs like being greeted at home, acknowledging the enjoyment of the obedience, asking what traits the other finds most appealing) but by the end, they still have not found a way to be more direct with one another. It leaves the plot feeling a bit listless
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