#I’m just struggling with where to start on my soup journey bc they all seem so gross I gotta be real 😭😭😭

[sunnibits]

hey does anyone have any soup recommendations for beginners. like. theoretically if I had never tried any soup other than tomato before. and also every other soup seems kind of gross to me and I am scared of most vegetables. and also “chunks in liquid” sounds kind of gross….. but like I really enjoy soup as a concept???? and wish I could enjoy it more for real. but ohhgghhhh ohh it’s so scary.

basically does anyone have any suggestions for super simple, tasty soup to try that might be suitable for someone with a lot of sensory issues??? no chunks or minimal is a bonus but I understand it’s not always common. I just want to be part of your world… (soup world)

[sithapprenticemaul]

Hunter ; Hunted

summary: Din thought this would be a simple hunt, that he would succeed where others had failed - he was wrong. Din Djarin has met his match.

word count: 1.5k

pairing: Din Djarin x Sherrif!Reader

warnings: a brief fight, mentions of bruising and cuts

a/n: I was literally cuddling my cat when I got the inspiration for this. reader is so sassy and this is gonna be a slow burn. part one of four or five i think. also my first reader insert which i was so nervous to write bc I've never written like this before. please let me know what you think!

When Greef Karga slid the tracking puck across the table, he had warned Din of the challenge of this bounty. Brushing it off without a second thought, Din eagerly accepted, the staggering amount credits offered worth whatever trouble he could possibly get into. This was an Imperial bounty, and the money would greatly help The Tribe. The small village was out in the middle of nowhere, the nearest spaceport being a three-day journey away by speeder, even longer on foot. Din left the Razor Crest hidden safely in the nearby mountains and made the rest of the journey on foot to not be spotted. The element of surprise was key in his work. Humans and aliens of various races traversed the small village, going about their daily lives. Children played, vendors sold, creatures barked and brayed. None seemed fazed at the sudden appearance of an outsider, let alone one clad so heavily in armour. That should have been Din’s first clue that this hunt was not going to go the way he intended. Din approached the weathered tavern with annoyance and frustration in his stride. He was tired, sweat dripping down his back, the Tatooine twin suns baking him in his protective second skin. He stopped just outside the door, the thrum of the taverns patrons inside making its way to his ears. Taking a moment of respite in the shade of the awning, he readied himself for the challenge ahead of him. He swung the door open, and for one of the few times in his life as a bounty hunter, no one turned to look at him. No stares, no hushed whispers or folk scurrying out of his sight. Just lively chatter of folk enjoying food and drink and the whipping of the wind behind him. The Tavern was dark and dusty, just as one would expect from any building on Tatooine. Din’s target was sitting right in the middle of the bar. He could feel eyes watching him now, but no one made a move to stop him as he approached her. You sighed deeply as you heard the door swing open. You’d fought off many credit hungry hunters who had tried to drag you to your doom before - this would be no different. The floor creaked under Din as he stopped just a few steps behind his bounty, curious as to the events that would unfold. It wasn’t common for him to have bounties that wouldn’t put up at least a little bit of a fight. That should have been Din’s second clue. “At least let me finish my soup”, you said slowly, your voice not betraying the anxiety coursing through you. “This is the best that Kintara has made in a long time.” You winked at the bar tending Pa'lowick in front of you as you tipped your head back and slurped down the last of your lunch. Setting the bowl down in front of you gently and wiping your mouth with your sleeve, you lazily swung yourself around to look at whatever bounty hunting sleemo had come through your town this time. Leaning back casually, you took in the sight of the man before you. He was tall, armour in varying shades of brown covering most of his body, a shining silver helmet hiding away his face. His hand was gently trained on the blaster on his left hip. The Amban sniper rifle was still strapped to his back, indicating this was not meant to be a long and drawn out fight. He wanted this done quick. He made no move toward you - yet. The hubbub in the tavern continued as you and the Mandalorian stared each other down, neither of you giving an inch. And then he spoke. “Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.” The corners of your mouth lifted ever so slightly at the vocoded words - typical bounty hunter, always assuming the oncoming struggle would be difficult on you. You, the poor helpless bounty that would help to line his pockets. “I’m not going anywhere, Hunter.” you spoke coolly. “I suggest,” you started as you rose from the barstool, “that you get going before you regret stepping foot in my town.” “Not going to happen. You’re coming with me, warm or cold.” he replied shortly, his voice betraying no hint of what emotion he was feeling. His body was tensed, rigid, awaiting your next move. Din couldn’t help but feel a little fascinated by his bounty and her sheer defiance in the face of danger. What had she seen in her life when a trained Mandalorian did not frighten her? Din frightened everyone. You smoothed out your tunic as you stood, subtly uncovering the blaster in its holster on your hip. You were just a few steps from the hunter. You stepped closer, taunting him into his next move, eyes unwavering. Din kept his eyes on you, suddenly becoming aware of the silence that filled the room but unable to tear his gaze from you. His third clue. He grasped his blaster in anticipation. Someone was about to get shot. You drew up to your full height at the sight of the hunter’s hand on his blaster, your eyes betraying the fury and irritation you now felt. You would not be intimidated by this outworlder on your planet, in your town and in your bar. Especially not during lunch. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you....” In a fraction of a second all hell broke loose. Tables and chairs were knocked over; glasses and plates smashed as the patrons of the bar drew their hidden weapons, taking aim at the Mandalorian from all around him. You knew better than anyone that at this close range he was going to hit you, you at least made sure the blaster bolt wasn’t going between your eyes. You twisted your body and dove to the floor as the bolt hit you in the right shoulder, stinging outrageously before you landed amongst the wreckage on the floor.

Din didn’t have a chance to fire again, his blaster falling from his hand as he held them up in helplessness as someone behind him kicked him to his knees. He was cornered, guns, knives, and other makeshift weapons at every angle around him. While his armour could protect him from a range of weapons, it would do nothing to save him from the knife dangerously close to piercing his body between his armour plating. Had he known the whole town was armed he would have brought more weapons. You hauled yourself up, hissing at the pain as you palm your injured shoulder to stem the bleeding. Another shirt ruined. You stagger back to the centre of the room to get a better look at your assailant. Din was doing his best not to panic, a task made increasing difficulty with all the sharp objects being pressed into his body. He could feel a makeshift blade digging in dangerously close to his rib cage. The bartender, Kintara, had a rifle aimed, not at his head, but at the unprotected flesh between his head and his shoulders, covered only by a few layers of fabric. “I say we kill him now and toss his body in the pit and be back before dinner,” grumbled a voice from behind him. He dared not say a thing, waiting for you to make the next move. He was a Mandalorian, a proud warrior, a fine bounty hunter and he would not resort to bargaining for his life...yet. “Easy Karma. Let’s find out what our trigger-happy friend here knows first,” you spoke clearly for all to hear. An order disguised as a suggestion. You were the law around here. He watched as you sauntered over to him, cradling your injured shoulder, equal parts furious, amused and intrigued at the events that had just unfolded. Din’s breath caught in his throat as you got the closest you had been, crouching down to his level. This was his first real chance to look at you, the woman he was to bring in.

You were beautiful, like a sunrise to be seen nowhere else in the galaxy, or so Din thought. Your hair was dishevelled, yet your face was girlishly aglow with accomplishment, despite the few cuts and bruises forming from your brief brawl.

Your eyes had a mischievous twinkle as you fluttered your eyelashes cheekily at the captive Mandalorian. Your mouth held that familiar small smile. He recognised that smile. It was one he wore many times after a successful hunt.  It was the smile of a predator who had cornered its prey.

“Knock him out and bring me Nebala. I’ll deal with this one myself,” you spoke calmly, standing to your full height and surveying the damage to your bar.

Din didn’t have a chance to protest before a dart hit him in the neck and he slumped with a thud to the floor.

[ryanjamessalmon]

16/01/2018 - 3:42am - beautiful

how do you make a difference in a Life. how do you possibly fulfil such a futile desire to change the world

i dont think im that different from other people. we’re all organs held together by muscle and bone with blue blood that keeps us all alive. I remember when i found out that blood is actually blue and its only when you get cut and the blood reacts with the oxygen in the open air that it turns red. The explanation was cool i remember, but i wasnt surprised by it bc there were plenty of times where i could see the subtle blue lines on the inside part of my wrist where my arm becomes my hand. so when i heard that the blood thats inside of our bodies is blue it made sense. My blood is the same color as whoever may be reading this. different dna, different blood types, different a lot of shit but when it comes down to it how different are we? All of us, i mean. Man, short for human, not indicative of any kind of gender or whether or not you have a dick. When i say man, i mean human, so all of you who are sitting with you finger on the trigger ready to say how my perspective is flawed based off of irelevent by-thoughts in this post, chill.

Do you want to be somebody or do you want to die without anyone remembering who you are after youre gone? there are people that have the world’s attention and you sit at home on youre computer watching other people’s lives because youres is exceptionally unextrodinary. I dream of people looking at me and deciding that they can do anything. I see myself as someone other kids watch interviews of and feel as if I am the only one who sees what they mean. How do you reach that kind of notoriety? what do you have to do to be somebody? If youre looking for the answer youre looking in the wrong place, but i feel like the fact that you stumbled across this post is a good sign. I cant tell you what you have to do to quench the longing for an impactful Life, but i can tell you that youre only gonna find it looking inward.

Theres a lot going on in the world these days is what it seems like, but at the same time when is there not a lot going on? 100 years ago cars were revolutionizing travel, black people couldnt sit in certain locations if white people didnt want them to, Women were “seen as equals” but they weren't allowed to have a say in any kind of decision on a national scale. I’m not about to research the late 1910′s to paint a vivid picture of what was going on, but the point is that the feeling of being a very small fish in a world sized pond was probably not that far off from what im feeling now. If you let me sit until i think of something i can do to be somebody on a global scale then I’ll die before i stand. Jesus did it. DaVinci did it. Its possible, ya know. but to be honest to impact the world is overrated. No one ever appreciates you until you die and even though lots of people will be impacted by your Life, you never get to meet these people. You dont get to know them and know how there Life was before compared to how their Life was after you came into it.

Its the connection, the feeling of being something more than a common face that people want. The chance to give someone else what they might not ever know by themselves. But you dont have to be famous to be somebody. you dont have to do anything extraordinary for humanity, or create something that changes culture. The man that gives the 25 year old an investment so he can start his own business is somebody to that 25 year old. the grocery store clerk who doesnt ring up the 5 packages of diapers for a struggling single mother is somebody to that mom. because theres more than one way to make an impact and be somebody. you dont have to have any skill. no special talent required. A single gesture can make you a main character in somebody’s Life. To change the world is an often sought dream that is never the journey anticipated. but to change a Life; to give another living person, no different from yourself, something that they wouldnt have otherwise can make a difference in their Life. It wont be as glorifying as the feeling that youre after but its better because it real. Its a real feeling of making a difference. this isnt the feeling of working at a nonprofit or a soup kitchen. The kind of impact im talking about it personal connection. Human to human, raw emotion. being the savior of someone’s Life. Just by being there for someone when they are burning out at rock bottom, you have the power to change the course of someone’s Life. and this isnt a feel good empowerment speech with the intention of getting you to go donate all your clothes to a thrift store or any disney hypebeast bs. Its not a simple answer, its not me pushing the idea that a simple kind gesture can change someone’s Life, becasue thats not the truth. Even if i could perfectly itterate into one sentence what im trying to say 99% of people wouldnt be paying attention when they read it so my intention isnt to give you a solution or change of heart. When it boils down to it this is my thoughts on a monday night when i should be sleeping. Its 4:30am now. so when i close my laptop and plug it in for the night and i get back in bed, as i lay down waiting for my mind to slow its roll, i’ll be thinking about what Lives ive impacted in the 21 years ive been here. who have i really made a difference to? 

even if its to just one person, i wanna be somebody