This. This This THIS.

womb

fuck small talk how old were you when it all went wrong

battle scenes; swords

Clang. The Soldier drew the sword behind his head. Clash. The screams of battle faded into white noise. Slash. His opponent drops to his knees before him. Shaking hands drop an oranate sword, pressing against the bleeding open wound. With a dull thud, the unmoving corpse falls forward. Never to move, never to breathe, never to live again. The Soldier huffs a pant. The sounds come rushing back. Yells and grunts and battlecries - echoed by the clang of metal against metal against wood. The back of his wrist wipes his sweaty forehead. His armour is slicked with blood and dusted with dirt. Those same elements coated the blade of his sword. He hears more than sees his next opponent. He feels more than hears it coming towards him. A vibration on the ground, beneath his feet, shaking him. Drawing him to the present. He cussed himself, silently. Turned around and pointed his sword- A lithe shadow lands on him from the back of a speeding horse. Sends the both of them crashing to the ground. Panic seizes him. He struggles from underneath the assailant. He struggles to lift his sword. He grunts as he pushes himself free. Staggers to his feet and narrows his eyes. The lithe figure wears the garbs of an assassin. The glint of a hidden dagger confirms this. As do the stealthy way they move. The Soldier groans inwardly. Out of all people, assassins were the hardest to fight. Like grabbing carp with your bare hands. He lifts his sword up again. Angles the tip to point beneath The Assassin’s chin.  To the life-vein he can just barely see. The sounds disappear. Not fade into white-noise, though. It disappears. Everything disappears. Just him. The Assassin. His sword. Beneath the visor of his helmet, the Soldier grins. “Make your move.” The Assassin darts forward. For if a shadow is the absence of light, then how quickly would a shadow move? Very fast, The Soldier finds. He just barely manages to lift his sword up. Block the fatal blow. Force the shadow to retreat. The Assassin does, briefly. Unperturbed, they come back. Shoves a palm towards his chest - a move that The Soldier just barely escapes. The Soldier staggers back a few steps. Places a hand to where he was nearly stabbed. Stares at the pacing, agitated shadow. Still, beneath his visor, his grin grows larger. Finally, finally, he’s found his match. This time, The Soldier moves first.

I got 0% on my first try and 100% on my second.

It varies from moment to moment

how evil are you

op this is such an astounding idea. oh my god. someone write more about this before i do it myself-

Recalibrate (The Mandalorian)

What if Grogu’s been doing the “These are not the droids you’re looking for” thing to Din this entire time?

Gen. 275 words

***

Grogu’s been nudging Din’s mind with the Force to make him more inclined to feel protective of him since the moment IG-11 was about to shoot him. 

The spell breaks a bit after Grogu is incapacitated by the effort it took to rescue Din from the Mudhorn, which is why he’s able to trade the baby for the camtono of Beskar. But that lingering look Grogu gives him as the pram is led out of the room by Dr Pershing? That’s Grogu saying You will not leave me here, and hoping it’s strong enough to stick.

So Din can’t stop thinking about the kid. Breaks Guild protocol by asking what will become of him. Puts his Covert at risk by going back for him and goes on the run for months with him. And the rest is history. 

But maybe, eventually, Din has a moment of clarity. He stops in the middle of what he’s doing one day and looks around at the modest collection of baby stuff he’s accumulated inside the Razor Crest. It’s so incongruous to the way his life used to be that it momentarily pulls him out of it.

He blinks down at the baby in his arms like he’s coming out of a dream. “What… what am I doing?”

But then Grogu waves his little hand at him, cooing—Don’t think about it! We were about to get lunch, remember Dad?—and Din just stares at him for an unbearably long moment, helmet inscrutable, as Grogu wills his brain to reset back into Parent Mode.

Until finally Din sighs, “Right… lunch time,” and Grogu knows it worked.  

And that’s that.

If you're reading this, please I BEG YOU TO REBLOG! my country Honduras was completely destroyed by hurricane eta. The night of November 5 the Sula valley was severely flooded by the overflows of various rivers, there are approximately 4 cities completely underwater and numerous small villages i can't even count. Even the airport of my city San Pedro Sula is underwater. Aproximately 300,000 families lost everything they had, there are hundres of people going missing, our social medias are flooded with posts of people desperately searching for their family members since communication has been lost due to the floods and lanslides on roads. And almost 200 people have been found dead including drowned kids. Our indigenous people have lost all of their crops they live of. They have nothing left and up to this day there's still people trapped in the roofs of their homes waiting to be rescued. The government has abandoned us ever since covid came into our country. And literally we have no one, it's only us helping each other with what we have. Hundreds of hondurans have shown their golden heart by providing shelter to those who have nowhere to go and lost everything, you have no idea how much i've cried seeing how with the little we have, we've tried to help the most. This is a third world contry, victims of a narco state and a corrupted government, we have gone through so much, fought for too long for the justice we have never gotten. So please, spread awareness, i beg you to do so.

My dear friend Natalia @zeldatrickers is fundraising, shes buying essentials to donate to shelters, if you can, please consider donating through PayPal. Also, here's a twt link with a thread of links to donate.

paypal.me/maldona2

https://twitter.com/papiwhisky/status/1324456794379460609?s=19

goddamn it i god rick-rolled so badly. im never going on youtube again

fucking,,,i would love grandma’s fur coat, give it here

articles written by people that have never faced a real problem in their entire life

Suddenly remembered this one dream I had when I was running a pretty bad fever.

Y’know that one Tom and Jerry episode where Tom dies and he goes to a train station in heaven? Yeah, I was there. And I was arguing with the train conductor. And I was going; “Let me in, you know who I am.”  But then the train conductor. They tipped their hat at me and shook their head. “I’m sorry, my friend, but it’s not your time.” And then I woke up.

how other people see my enthusiasm in writing fics: passion

how it really is: