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acourtofsnakes · 4 years ago

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Tome - Rogue, Chapter 10| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader

Summary: You find yourself talking to a mysterious stranger, whom you can’t help but feel a pull towards. Will the Mandalorian get there in time? And what will happen when he shows up?

Warnings: Gonna put this as an 18+ but it’s not SUPER graphic, Swearing (this is a given by now), a little angst, sexual tension – a lot - &mentions of sex that are kinda detailed, WE GETTING HOT IN HERE TODAY

AN: I was trying to hold off on the sexual tension but I couldn’t wait any longer and I needed to add some of Din’s darker side – I blame all the fanfics and Tik Tok, and i’m not ashamed

Word count: 6.5k+

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ♥︎

Rogue Taglist:

@snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @jackgrzs @sarahjkl82-blog @boomtownboy @goldielocks2004 @seninjakitey @what-iwish-you-knew

Mando’a translation: Tome – Together

You studied the man as he drew off his hood.

He had inky black hair, so dark the loose waves caught a blue tone in the light of the cantina, like the wings of a crow or a raven.

His skin was softly tanned, yet still a little pale, the pallor set off by the darkness of his hair.

But it was his eyes that drew your attention first.

They were the colour of melted amber, shockingly bright, like they almost glowed from within. They sparkled with flecks of gold, watching you with a keen interest, seeing what you would make of him and his offer. They glimmered like they already knew the answer before you did yourself.

He was heartbreakingly beautiful, and he knew it. Almost flawless.

So, where was his mark, his tell of a dark past, twisted with horrors and darkness that always seemed to follow beautiful people?

There.

As the light shifted, you saw that he bore two long, wicked scars on his face.

One began just above his eyebrow, parting through it and narrowly missing the edge of his eye, before coming to a thin point on his high cheekbone.

The other was smaller, drawn across the plush curve of his lips. It twisted it only slightly, just slightly tugging up one corner, but they did nothing to mar his sheer beauty.

It was.. almost otherworldly. Disarming.

That, combined with his watchfulness gave you a distinct feeling that you were dancing the line between prey or… company?

Or maybe it was the way the light seemed to shy away from the planes of his face, whereas the shadows clung to him like a second skin, like they were an extension of him.

You remained perched on your seat, torn between immediately leaving and putting distance between yourself and this too-beautiful man… or joining him.

He tilted his head, leaning back in his seat and he motioned gracefully to the stool in from of him, “Join me, love. I won’t bite.” His lips curled up into a wider grin and you swore you could almost see fangs, “Not unless you want me to.”

You rolled your eyes, but something about the comment made you realise he probably wasn’t going to kill you if he was flirting with you. “Well, since you paid for my drinks.” You shrugged lightly, slid off of your seat and then joined him at his table. “I’m not so easily won over though, just to inform you.”

The man’s smile turned lazy, feline and he chuckled. The sound of his laugh was like velvet, sliding over your bones and whispering in your ear, “Oh, I don’t doubt that for a second, love. I can tell you need more than a few looks and drinks.” He ran those ridiculous eyes over you, taking in every inch and it felt like was seeing straight into your soul. He made a thoughtful hum in the back of his throat, lifting his eyes to yours again, “No. You strike me as the kind of girl who needs to be truly impressed with more than empty promises.”

Your skin warmed with his gaze, your eyes narrowing a little, but you mirrored his feline smirk, leaning forward and dropping your voice, “And you think you’re the one to impress me, do you?”

He looked over your face, leaning forward and the scent of rain-kissed cedar and thunderstorms washed over you, swirling around your head and filling your lungs, “Maybe. Though something tells me that I might have a contender.”

Unbidden, the thoughts of that night on the Crest came back in a rush, Lori’s bare hands tracing over your skin, your throat and pulling through your hair with utter adoration.

You tensed, an ache of longing ripping through you and it blew your cocky response out of the water.

The man blinked a little, his eyes softening as he read your response that was obviously clearer than you’d like it to be, “Apologies. I didn’t mean to step over the line, so forgive me if I have.” He leant back again, raising his drink to you.

You shook your head softly, giving him a smile that was perhaps only a little forced, “Don’t worry about it, really.” You clinked your glass to his and then sipped your drink, maybe taking a deeper drink than the situation required. “So, what really made you pay for my drinks?”

The man looked a little bashful, gazing at the back of his gloves, “I’ve only been on the planet for the day. I saw you practising with the Marshal earlier and I was impressed. And… wanted to meet the woman who fought like she was dancing.” With his eyelashes lowered, you could see that the scar just tugged at the edge of his eyelid, and you briefly wondered how he managed to walk away with his eye still in his head.

However, his words had you frowning slightly because… they were the exact same words the Mandalorian had spoken to Greef, in awe of you. “Mmm-hm…” You raised an eyebrow at him, starting to believe you may have made a mistake in sitting here. “What’s the real reason?”

He lifted his eyes back to you, and had the good grace to look a little awkward, “I…” He sighed, “I fear I’m giving you the worst first impression of myself.” He spread his hands on the table almost in a gesture to show he meant no harm, “There have been rumours that… The Mandalorian who stole the Child had taken off with another bounty. And that…”

Your gaze was level and hard on him, wanting an answer and wanting it now, “And?”

He bit his lip, that curl of hair still resting over his forehead and making him longer especially with the guilt in his expression, “That there was something between him and his old bounty. Him and… you.” He inclined his head toward you slightly.

Warning bells began to tinkle in your head. “And where did you hear that?”

He shrugged lightly, lifting a hand, “Oh, one hears many things. Especially about you, my love. You’re famous in planets that don’t even know about the Mandalorian. Everyone knows someone who’s seen your puck.” He was reaching toward the sword on his back, his hand closed around the hilt.

Within a blink, your hand was on your own knife again, “I am going to give you thirty seconds to tell me the truth, or I swear, I will run my knife through that pretty eye of yours so quickly you won’t even have time to breathe.”

He blinked, something flickering in his expression, but he held his hands up further, “Easy.” He pulled his sword free of his holster, setting it on the table between you both. “I’m not here to take you in. I was shown your puck, but I refused. I had heard you were here, and I wanted to warn you.”

Your hand didn’t budge from the knife, “Warn me? Of what? I know that everyone is after me. I don’t need some stranger telling me that.”

The man tilted his head, adjusting the hood of his cloak over his shoulders now that his sword was out of the way, “Don’t you want to know who employed them all? All of the people who have been after you?”

Is he playing with you?

You were entirely focused on him, ready to fling the knife and bolt should you need to. You knew how to get out of here, how to get up to the rooftops and dart across them.

Don’t. Don’t ask him, just in case. Get out now.

He knew… He knew who sent everyone after your head.

No.

This man knew who was responsible for the lives of friends and strangers.

You shouldn’t ask. This was a mistake. You needed to leave.

You looked away from his golden stare, drawn to look at the sword lying there on the table.

Your brows furrowed imperceptibly as you beheld the strange symbols carved onto the sheath.

Something about them seemed… familiar. Strangely so. They itched at the back of your mind like a forgotten language.

He lowered his golden eyes to the sword between you, sucking in the light of the room.

“The symbols on this sword… they call to you, don’t they?” He ran a gloved finger along the sheath, tracing delicately over the inscribed symbols.

You bit your lip, hesitating as you watched him.

He looked up at your expression, your hesitation and then he slowly unsheathed the sword, revealing the blade to you.

The blade was made of a deep, dark obsidian coloured material. It was like no metal you’d ever seen. It seemed sheer almost, like a gemstone but it was a rich ebony colour, as endless as space. It pulled in the light around it, sucked it dry and seemed to use it to glow darkly from within.

Along the centre of the blade, the same symbols were inscribed, but this time in a rich golden gilt.

With each symbol that was exposed, something rose within you.

He was right.

They truly did call to you. You didn’t know how, or why, but you felt like you knew what they meant, that you should understand them.

The caged power of the Force within you felt it too.

That’s what they were calling to, what they were connecting with.

The raven-haired man smiled that disarming smile again, his lips twitching up in delight, knowing he was correct. He remained silent for a few seconds, “They call to your power.”

Wait.

He… knew?

How the fuck did he know about you?

No one knew. Not even the Mandalorian knew.

You reached for your blade instinctively again, watching the man in front of you.

Fear must have registered in your eyes, mixed with a defensive warning, because he held up his hands.

“Easy, I’m not going to hurt you. I already told you that. I’m not here for you, or the bounty.” He shrugged a little, “Okay, I am here for you, but not like that. You see, my sister was the same. She had the same… gifts, as you.” He mercifully kept his voice low, soft enough that only you could just hear it.

You didn’t speak, couln’t say anything, only watched him. Waiting. Even if curiosity did spark within you.

He smiled softly like he saw it, the scars on his lips doing nothing to mar the overwhelming, stunning impact of that simple gesture, “That’s right… she was so incredibly talented, and I adored her to pieces. She was beautiful and had such a light within her. Much like you. And I want to help you… like I tried to do for her.” He tilted his head a little, his molten eyes shimmering with sadness as he spoke about her. IT was etched in every line of his body, the pain of losing a loved one that you held so dear.

You swallowed, slowly letting go of your knife, “What happened to her? How do you know about me? Who is sending the hunters after me? Who are you?” The questions tumbled form your lips like rain, unable to stop them as you were faced with a man who could.. maybe help you?

He chuckled softly, filling the air with that musical sound again, “Let me answer the easiest one first. My name is Rena and-“

The doors to the cantina opened, letting in a warm, volcanic breeze.

You felt, rather than heard his presence behind you. You could recognise the almost silent footfalls, the barest scrape of armour as it got closer and closer to you.

With every step, it felt like you might jump out of your skin.

He was here.

He’d come back.

Had he come back for you?

“Get away from her.” His snarl made the chatter in the cantina drop a few notches, the atmosphere subtly changing as everyone tried not to listen in.

You could feel his height rising up behind you, and turned around in your seat to greet him, despite the snarl in his voice. Your elation at seeing him, the very way your bones hummed in delight made you miss what he just said.

“Lori.. you’re here.” You couldn’t deny the way you greedily took in his tall, beskar-clad form. His armour looked… dustier, dirtier than it usually did. Like he hadn’t had time to clean it. There were a few patches smudged over the chest plates, and the fabric beneath looked a little torn. The more rugged look was good on him, giving him that edge that you knew lingered beneath the surface.

Grogu rested at his side, in his little pouch bag. He cooed delightedly when he saw you, earning himself a grin and a wave.

And in the Mandalorian’s other hand…

Duru.

Held in his hand like he normally held the Child.

You tilted your head, reaching out to take her, “Lori, why are you carrying my cat like a baby?” You laughed, holding her furry body close

He ignored you, his helmet focused on the figure opposite you. “I said, get away from her.” The rough baritone of his voice held a fierceness you’d never heard before, the promise of a thinly veiled threat should your companion continue to ignore him.

You blinked in surprise, at the fierceness in his tone.

You’d expected a ‘Hello’ at least, but here he was, acting like you were invisible and giving a death stare (you presumed) to the man opposite.

Rena chuckled softly, that laugh like flowing water over smooth stones, “Calm down, friend. I’m not going to hurt her.” He smiled at the Mandalorian, all easy charm and glowing eyes.

Mando growled, striding forward and he flung his arm out across your body… like he was protecting you?

“I am not your friend. And you are nothing to her. So back off.”

You frowned, something prickling at the back of your neck, a feeling you couldn’t place. You appreciated the Mandalorian defending you but… from what?

Did he think you couldn’t be trusted to sit and talk to someone? That you were dumb enough to make a foolish mistake with so many after you?

“Mando. Enough. You don’t even know Rena. Neither do I. Calm down.” Your voice was soft, but firm. To tell him you appreciated the defence, but you didn’t need him to save you.

Besides, you wanted to know more about him, more about how he knew what lingered within you and how he planned to help.

He barely looked over his shoulder at you, keeping his head turned to Rena, “You’re right in that you don’t know him. But I do. So forgive me, but I’m the one calling the shots in this situation. Take the kid and go back to the Razor Crest. We’re leaving.”

Your shoulders straightened and your eyes flashed as you raised an eyebrow at him, “You’re the one calling the shots?” Your voice was flecked with icy coolness, and disbelief, “I can make my own decisions, Mandalorian. Despite what you may think.” You let acid creep into your tone, let him know you were referring to him decided to dump you here.

Rena’s amber eyes flicked between the two of you, dancing in amusement as he tilted his head, “I’d listen to her, Mandalorian. I think she knows what she’s doing. She doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman who likes to be told what to do.” The light bounced off his dark hair, making the inky curls catch a deep blue. His posture was at ease, leaning back in his chair, his sword within easy reach, should he need it.

The cantina was silent now, everyone flat out watching or listening to the potential fight that was going to ensue… and whether it would be between Mando and Rena, or Mando and yourself.

Mando still had his arm across your body and Duru’s too, actually. “And you don’t strike me as the kind of monster that plays with their food for so long. I know you like to have your sick little games, but this isn’t exactly your style is it.” His words were venomous, a tone you’d never ever heard before.

Anger flashed through you, chasing away the initial delight you had at seeing the Mandalorian. You understood his wariness of strangers, but he was being out of order. You weren’t stupid. You’d been doing this for long enough that your instincts were pretty sharp when it came who to trust and who to run away from.

You stood up, glaring at the back of his head, “Enough, Lori. This is ridiculous.”

Mando ignored the cold anger of your voice, finally looking at you over his shoulder. “Just wait outside. Please.”

His plea stopped you short. He had only ever used that word in such a tone once before.

In the kitchen area, with his hands on your skin and in your hair.

Please.

And… was there a layer of fear beneath it?

You sighed, looking from him to Rena, reluctant to leave them in case the fight did indeed break out. This man… he said he could help. And he couldn’t very well do that dead, could he?

You didn’t doubt for a single second that Mando wouldn’t go down without a fight, but you sensed there was something coiled within Rena, a slumbering beast that was waiting to be provoked. It prowled behind his eyes and his smile.

As if reading this in your eyes, Rena smiled at you, shaking his head a little, “I’m not looking for a fight, love. Your Mandalorian will come back to you in one piece. And I’ll leave here in one piece as well.” His eyes shifted to Mando, something in them shifting, “Won’t I?”

Mando was still, his instincts on trigger mode and just waiting to explode, “I don’t like making promises I can’t keep.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes as you took Grogu from Mando. “Fine. You have five minutes.”

You rested the bag across your body, ignoring the eyes watching you as you stalked out of the cantina. “Men.”

The cantina door opened, and the Mandalorian walked out.

A quick inspection revealed no damage, so you turned your gaze back to your knife.

You were perched on a wall, Grogu on your lap and Duru around your shoulders as you waited for the Mandalorian.

Having spotted you, he walked over, hesitating a few steps away like he was approaching a raging fire.

Good. Let him hesitate. Let him know how fucking furious I am with him.

You said nothing, continuing to clean the blade of your knife on the edge of your cloak.

Silence stretched between you, broken only by the soft thump of Duru’s tail, and Grogu’s tiny huff as he looked between you both.

Mando observed you for a moment, before placing his hands on his hips and sighing, “Come on then.”

You turned over your knife, methodically buffing up the blade, “What the fuck was that? Do you treat all strangers the way you did in there?”

The Mandalorian was still, watching you carefully, “He’s not a stranger. He’s dangerous. Deadly.”

You still hadn’t looked at him, “I am dangerous. And deadly. I’ve killed people and ‘played with my food’. Does that mean I am a monster too?”

He shifted his weight to his other leg, “I didn’t call you a monster. You know I wouldn’t do that. I’m sorry if it stirred anything up, I didn’t think” Your old argument must have flashed through his mind because it did yours. But that wasn’t the issue.

Grogu looked at you as you shook your head, “Nope. You didn’t think, did you? You waltzed in there. And made a scene.”

A noise filtered through the vocoder and over to you, “A scene? I would hardly call it making a scene. That guy is a stone-cold killer. He was sitting there, toying with you and no one would have batted an eyelid to help you. There are people after your head, him especially!”

Fire simmered through your veins. “Oh, for the love of all the stars, grow up! He isn’t deadly. He knew who I was, and he didn’t once raise a hand to hurt me. He said as much himself.”

The Mandalorian laughed, that damn laugh that made your teeth set on edge, “He told you, did he? Oh, forgive me then. Of course, he was telling the truth.” He shook his head, pacing and then coming back to you.

You frowned, watching him pace, “What is your problem with him? So I was talking to some guy in a bar, that immediately makes him a monster?”

The Mandalorian made a frustrated noise, raising his hands, “My problem, sweetheart, is that I thought you were smarter than that! Some creep tells you he knows who you are but he ‘isn’t going to hurt you’ and I thought you’d be running the other way and he’d be laying there with a knife in his chest! Not laughing with you over that fucking sword of his.”

This man was being ridiculous.

“So, this about my supposed stupidity now too, is it? Because I did something that you didn’t expect me to do?” You shoved your blade back into it’s sheath, nearly slicing your leg as you did.

Mando made another frustrated noise, “Fucking hell, you’re not listening to me, again!! This is not about you! This is about him!! He cannot be trusted. He is a monster and a murderer. And I don’t care if he was singing you nursery rhymes or telling you about the baby Porgs he adopts, he was lying! He is going to kill you and I am not letting that happen!”

Jaw clenched, you glared at him still, “Have you seen him do such things? Where’s your proof he was going to kill me. Do you know him?”

“Not exactly. But I-“

“No. You don’t know him at all. You didn’t trust me to be able to handle the situation, even though there wasn’t a situation until you walked in.”

Mando crossed his arms across his stupidly broad chest, “Like I said. You clearly didn’t know what you were dealing with. Again.”

You slowly looked up at him, eyes blazing and Grogu made a noise, his little body going still. “Oh?”

The Mandalorian kept his gaze firmly on you, oozing that cockiness that grated on you as much as your own grated on him, “Nope.” He tilted his head, “Someone has to keep you safe.”

It was the insinuation on the word, ‘someone’, that had you picking up Grogu and placing him on the wall. He immediately tucked his chin into his tunic, his hands coming up to cover his ears.

A beat later, your fury exploded.

“Someone needs to keep me safe?! And I suppose that title oh so graciously falls on you, does it? Because you know everything about everyone who comes into contact with me?” You stalked toward him, poking a finger into his chest, “I was doing just fine before you. I don’t need you to keep saving me. If I remember correctly, it was me who saved you the last time. So don’t come out here on your high and mighty hero argument, you pretentious, shiny, asshole!” You pointed at him, “You can’t just walk in and start accusing people of being murderers when you clearly don’t know them!”

The Mandalorian sighed, “Don’t start this again. You know I didn’t mean it like that. So, don’t start calling me names either. I was trying to protect you, like I keep saying.”

You growled at him, “So you’re allowed to waltz in there and start spewing accusations, but I’m not allowed to call you out for being an asshole?”

Mando walked over to the wall where Grogu and Duru were perched, “I wasn’t spewing accusations, princess. I was telling the truth. When are you going to believe me?” He scooped up the kids, placing Grogu back in his pouch over his shoulder and holding Duru in his arm again.

For some reason, that fuelled your anger even more, that he took your cat and strolled off. You scrambled off of the wall, “Are you going to explain to me how you know then?” You followed him as he began to walk down the street, winding through the paths.

He didn’t even look at you just kept walking, “I just know that he went in there to kill you. He was playing with you first.”

You darted around a fruit cart, the setting sun bouncing off his shiny head and getting in your eyes, “And I asked you for your proof. Which I’m still waiting for.”

Mando stopped, so suddenly you bumped into his back with a soft oof. “Look. I just know, okay. Can’t you leave it at that for once?” You just knew there was a pleading expression underneath the helmet, but you weren’t letting it go.

You crossed your arms, arching a brow at him, “I’m gonna give you a minute to remember who I am and answer that question for yourself.”

He groaned, dropping his head back and looking at the darkening sky for a moment. “Fine.” He lowered his head to look at you again, “In Mandalorian culture, there are legends of a creature so foul, he was spat back out of the deepest pits of darkness. A man so cruel that darkness itself shies away from him. They say he has no soul. I didn’t believe in it when I was a Foundling. I thought it was just a story they told us to make sure we stayed in line but… I know that it’s true now. He is true. We call him Haran. It means cosmic annihilation, because that’s what he brings. He kills people for pure pleasure, but he drags it out in the worst way possible first. And he’s after you.”

You said nothing. Simply staring at him.

He stared back at you, waiting.

The seconds ticked by, Grogu and Duru looking between you both.

Finally, you spoke. Your voice was very quiet, very calm, “You mean to tell me. That you walked into that cantina, after over a month of not seeing me, without even saying hello, I might add. And you walked over to this man, accused him of being a murderer and threatened him… because you think he’s a children’s story?!”

The noise of exasperation that came from the man before you mirrored your own emotions, “For the love of- You’re impossible.”

“And you’re talking bullshit.” You snapped the words, arms still crossed, and you were just getting madder by the second. But something was suddenly becoming clear in your mind, some dark whisper to play with him.

Mando almost audibly rolled his eyes, shaking his head before turning around and continuing to walk. “Whatever, princess. You asked, I told you.”

There was no hesitation as you followed him again, “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” His voice was flat now, bored almost. He weaved through some more corners and streets, the paths getting quieter and some empty buildings rising up around you.

“Yep. And I think I know why. I know why you suddenly went alpha male protective on me. I know why you made such a scene. And I know why you’re acting like this now.” You were poking at him; sure you knew the truth now. And if you were wrong, hell, maybe you could make him as frustrated as he had made you.

“Do enlighten me, princess. How do you know such things?” There was an edge to his voice, like he knew where you were going with this.

“Because to me, it sounds like you walked in there, saw me sitting with someone else and…”

He stopped, putting the kids down on a wall again as he turned to look at you, “And what? Say it.” The visor of his helmet was locked onto you and you had that feeling again that you had locked eyes.

You stared back at him, crossing your arms, voice dripping with fury and contempt, but now with an edge, “You were jealous.”

The evening was quiet, this part of town abandoned by the look of the crumbling buildings around you.

The Mandalorian laughed, but there was no humour in his voice, “Jealous? You think I was jealous of him?”

You bristled at the cocky laugh, eyes flashing again and that hidden part of you shimmered and trembled, “It sure as hell looked like it. You didn’t even say hello to me before you were descending upon us like an alpha male claiming your territory.” You stalked closer to him, two predators dancing around each other again, “I am not your territory, or your property. I am no-ones.”

Mando didn’t move, letting you come closer, “I know that. I never once laid claim to you. But when I walked and saw you sitting there with that.. that..”

You snarled softly, “Don’t say it again.”

He looked at you for a moment, “That creature… I lost it. You shouldn’t be on the same planet as him, let alone across the table.” He dropped his arms to his sides, displaying that restless energy that was so rare for him.

You couldn’t help but laugh this time, “Because he’s some kind of spooky shadow man from your childhood stories? Please.”

Mando shook his head fiercely, pointing at you, “It’s the truth. Haran is real. And he was sitting opposite you, playing with you and pretending to be some bashful pretty boy.”

You prowled toward him, mimicking the shaking of his head. “No. Not good enough. Stop lying to me, Lori.”

“I am not lying to you!! Get it through your head, he was going to kill you!!”

You were right in front of him now, peering up at him, “Admit it.”

His voice was tight, but he didn’t back away, “Drop it, princess. I already told you.”

You shook your head, “I don’t believe you. If you wont tell me the truth I’ll help you.” You took a tiny step closer, so close your chest brushed against his as he panted a little. “I think you went to my room, expecting me to be there. You saw that I was gone and Duru was alone. You immediately thought the worst, and came rushing down to the cantina, hoping you’d find me there. And you did. Only it wasn’t what you expected.”

Mando was silent, his hands curling into fists and uncurling again.

You continued, relentless, “Instead of being on my own, you saw me sitting with another man. A damn good looking one at that.” You cooed the word at hi, dropping your tone to a seductive, needy one.

You wouldn’t have heard the soft growl if you hadn’t been this close, and it only spurred you on. “You saw us laughing, talking. And you didn’t like it.” You tilted your head a little, “You saw us and thought… how well do they know each other?” You lifted your hand, placing your fingertips on his chest, “Maybe we knew each other as friends. Or… maybe we knew each other more than that. Maybe we’d spent nights together...” You began to tap your fingers down the Mandalorian’s chest plate, as you lowered your voice to a seductive purr, “What if we couldn’t wait, couldn’t wait to get to the bed and he threw me against the wall, tearing the buttons off my trousers in his haste.”

Mando was breathing harder now, his hands curled up tight. You knew you were pushing his buttons, edging him to possible fury but something in you ached to do this, to feel something like that night before. You wanted a reaction out of him, something more than just protectiveness and care. You wanted him to lose his cool, break free of his restraint and just… do something.

“Maybe I tore off his clothes too, both of us kissing so fiercely we couldn’t breathe, our tongues dancing around each other as we grabbed at each other, pulling away the layers of clothes until…”

You rose up on tiptoe, your hands resting against his belly for support, and you knew the helmet would pick up your whispers, “Until he sunk into me, pushing me against the wall and fucking me, so hard and so loud that everyone in that building heard, that everyone knew what was happening. They knew his name, they knew my name, and they knew that we did not stop going. That we had sex on every available surface in that room. That I threw him on the bed and rode him until he was clawing at my hips. Do you want to see? Do you want to see the bruises that you think are on my hips?”

You turned your head, so your lips brushed the edge of his helmet and fire burned through you as he turned his head into your words and his hands twitched, “Do you wish it was you, Lori? Do you wish it was you that was making me scream? That you were the one leaving marks on my body? That you were the one buried so deep within me I could feel you in my belly?” You pushed your body into him, effectively pinning him to the wall with your own body, “Did you think about me whilst I was gone? Alone, in the middle of the night with only your hand to keep you company?”

Your fingers trailed to his clenched fist, curling your hand around it to bring it to your waist.

Only for him to let out a choked growl that set your bones ablaze. He spun quicker than you’d ever seen him move, switching the position and holding your hand against the wall, his other next your head, effectively creating a cage with his body, “Shut up.”

You grinned, hearing the rasping tone of his voice, “I knew it, I knew you were jealous. You did think I fucked him, didn’t y-“

Suddenly, his hand had left yours and was over your mouth, “For a girl who acts like a princess, you have a fucking vulgar mouth.” He tilted his head down to yours, his voice rumbly and sparking all sorts of images in your mind. “Maybe I was a little jealous. I’ll admit it.”

Your eyes flared with triumph, even if the hand on your mouth was coiling heat in your belly, making heat flood through your body – and between your legs.

The Mandalorian leant in closer, surrounding you with his scent again, smokey leather, metal and that distinct woodsy smell. “You asked me if I think about you… but what about you, cyar'ika? Do you think about me when you’re alone?”

By the stars, the way his voice dropped and rolled along your spine like a caress. It opened up the corner of your mind that you tried to ignore, the corner that spilled out every night, into your dreams.

“Do you think about that night on the Crest? What might have happened if we weren’t interrupted? Would my hands have gone lower? Touched where you wish it was me? Sunk into you and stroked you until your legs shook?” He chuckled lowly, a sound that would have brought you to your knees if he wasn’t caging you to the wall. He was so close you could no longer see your reflection in his visor. His head titled a little and you felt his body push into yours gently, all hard, cold armour, but beneath that… beneath his hips, he pressed into you.

You could feel the hard length of him, feel that he was turned on by this just as much as you, maybe he wanted this as much as you did.

Wanted the images searing through your mind, of his hands tearing around your clothes, dropping to your thighs and lifting them around his waist, gripping them so hard he left bruises as he pushed into you..

Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck.

Electricity crashed through your veins and your darkened eyes rolled back a little, thighs clenching. You couldn’t help it, your lips parted and a soft moan slipped from them, muffled against the leather of his hand and without thinking, you bit down on his fingers, tasting the leather.

His hand tensed over your mouth, his body jerking into yours a little as his breath left him in a soft huff. “Fuck, you d-“

“Uh, guys?”

Cara’s voice filtered through the haze of lust that clouded your brain, and immediately, the Mandalorian jumped backward, the two of you parting like you’d been shocked.

Heat flooded your cheeks and neck, not from embarrassment so much as a response to his words.

The man made you furious, made you see red but… you couldn’t deny the fire between you. The way you were dancing around each other since you met. You were seemingly in a constant stay of being polite, flirting with each other or being at each other’s throats – either through anger or pure lust.

“What is it, Cara?” Mando turned to her, his voice coming out a little harsher than intended due to the roughness of his voice, betraying the reactions of his body.

Her eyes flicked between the two of you, and you just knew she saw it all from the way she was holding back a smirk as she looked at you. “That guy from the cantina asked me to give you this.” She held something out to you.

You cleared your throat, pushing away from the wall and walking past Mando carefully, like the faintest touch between you both would ignite something. “Thanks, Cara” You took the object she held out and it was a thin metal card with a code embossed onto it. You frowned, flipping it over but all that lay on the other side was a symbol. A two headed snake coiled around a sword that looked a lot like the one that had been sheathed on his back.

The Mandalorian answered instead, thankfully staying where he was, “It’s a comms code. If you input it, it’ll connect you to him.” His voice was tight, “If he thinks-“

You held up a hand, not looking at him, “Don’t even finish that sentence.” You pocketed the card, letting out a breath, “I’m going to go and sort my things out. I… I’ll meet you all in a bit.” You allowed yourself a glance back at the Mandalorian, skin heating when you found his visor already trained on you.

You swallowed thickly, your blood simmering again but you made yourself turn around, avoiding Cara’s smirk, “C’mon, Duru.”

You headed back to your little apartment, relieved when you heard no trailing footsteps behind you. You needed the time alone for a minute, to process what the hell just happened between you both.

And maybe to cool down.

He would be the death of you.

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#the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #the force #the child #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #rogue

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suitofvibraniumarmor · 4 years ago

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If You Just Realize

Part One: Blindsided

Summary: Sebastian’s close friend stands by his side as he and his family say a sad goodbye and face new obstacles in the days and weeks to come. Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader Word Count: 1900 Warnings: Death, angst, sadness. Lots of creative licensing, I’m sure. Square Filled: This entire series will fill my realized feelings square for @marvelfluffbingo. A/N: I’ve much enjoyed writing this series, and I hope all of you enjoy reading it! The tag list is open; requests to be added can be done so here. There are bits and pieces of Romanian throughout the series, mostly from Google Translate and the few things I’ve picked up as I learn the language. Happy Reading!

Dismal notes sounded together in morbid harmony throughout the church as funeral attendees greeted each other in the lobby. The people filed together toward the sanctuary, offering condolences to the family as they passed. Sebastian did his best to be cordial, but between his grief and looking out for the one other person he needed to be there, he feared he wasn’t doing so well interacting with the guests.

“Calma, Sebastian,” his mother soothed, rubbing a hand over his back before she went to accept the outstretched hand of another guest. “Y/N will be here. She said she will be here, she will be here.”

Sebastian nodded and gave the next person in line a tight, sad smile. He knew that Y/N would be there; she always was when he asked for her support. The unexpected circumstances of his life, however, made him anxious for her presence.

In the last few days, Sebastian had thought often of a song released sometime around his senior year of high school. The real troubles in life, the spoken-word song warned, are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at four P.M. on some idle Tuesday. The hour was earlier than four in the afternoon, but it was a Tuesday when he received the call telling him that his sister Irina had been involved in a fatal car accident on her way to work that morning. The doctors had been optimistic taking her into surgery, but her injuries were more extensive than the hospital staff had been able to read on x-rays and CT scans. While on the operating table, Irina’s heart stopped. The surgeon had been unable to restart the organ.

A pleasantly feminine, floral scent invaded his nostrils as soft fingers intertwined with his, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked to his side to see Y/N Y/L/N next to him. Her eyes met his, and she squeezed his hand.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, Seb. LaGuardia was a disaster.”

He leaned to kiss her cheek. “Don’t apologize. Thank you for coming. I’m not sure I could have done this without you.”

“Even if you could, I wouldn’t have let you,” she returned.

Finally, the last of the guests had filed into the sanctuary, and the family could take their places at the front. Sebastian’s mother stepped out of line to hug Y/N and thank her also for being there. Y/N replied in Romanian, something she had learned after becoming friends with Sebastian all those years ago. She wasn’t fluent, but she could comfortably hold a conversation.

“Trebuia să fiu aici.” She had to be there, not from a sense of obligation, but because she wanted to support Sebastian and his family in whatever way she could.

When they were all seated, Sebastian between his mother and Y/N, and his stepfather on the other side of his mother, the priest began the service. Sebastian hadn’t let go of Y/N’s hand since she had intertwined their fingers when she arrived. Occasionally, he would squeeze her hand, and she squeezed back every time. If he needed the reminder that she was there, then she would give it.

After the eulogy and the singing and the praying had all wrapped up, Sebastian stepped out of the pew with the other pallbearers to carry his sister’s casket to the church parking lot where the hearse was waiting to take her to the cemetery. He clenched his jaw in an effort to hold back the tears glazing over his eyes.

Y/N walked behind his mother and stepfather in the processional out of the sanctuary but hung back with the crowd when the walked to the car at the front of the line of cars. Georgeta turned and motioned for her to join.

“We know what you mean to my Sebastian,” the older woman assured. “Irina would want you with us as much as possible today.”

Y/N gave her a tight smile and followed the family into the black limousine. Sebastian joined them a couple of minutes later, sliding onto the seat beside her. He took her hand again.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he told her quietly as the driver pulled out of the church lot.

She nodded once. “Your mother said Irina would want it this way. I was going to ride with someone else, or take a cab.”

“No, you should be here with us. Mom’s right, Irina would want it this way. But I mean here. For the whole thing.”

She squeezed his hand and held his gaze. “Seb. There’s no way I wasn’t going to be here. I’m around as long as you need me to be, okay?”

He swallowed down the lump in his throat and kissed her forehead. Besides his mother and his sister, no woman was close to him like Y/N. They had become friends when they both had bit parts in the same movie, extremely early on in their careers. The friendship had clicked so easy, they kept in touch and grew closer as the years went on. The media had speculated for years that they were more than friends, but romance had never been a part of their relationship.

After the burial, the day was only partially over. Sebastian was ready to go home and rest, but there was a whole wake to get through yet. He hoped the gathering would pass quickly and maybe he wouldn’t be required to interact with too many people.

Guests were busy eating the well-catered food, which gave him the opportunity to visit more with his mother and stepfather. Y/N had gone to the bathroom to freshen up, giving his mother the opportunity to bring up an issue that she hadn’t wanted to stress her son over until they got through the burial.

“Irina and I talked once about what to do if something like this happened,” Georgeta began. “It was not long after the baby was born. She was supposed to get it in writing, make it all legal. But she was going to school, raising her daughter. She didn’t get it done. And now …”

Sebastian licked his lips and picked up his water glass. “Now it’s too late.”

Georgeta nodded. “She wanted you to take Milena.”

Some mechanism in the swallowing process malfunctioned when his mother made the announcement. He coughed and attempted to clear his throat without causing too much of a scene. He had all but recovered when Y/N returned to the table.

“Everything all right?” she asked, patting him a couple of times on the back. Nobody said anything. She raised her brow, waiting for Sebastian to come clean.

Before he could answer, the sound of little feet running in their direction put a halt to the conversation. A little girl in a black dress with curly pigtails was rushing towards them, her arms outstretched.

“Uncle Seb!”

“Milena!” Sebastian exclaimed, stepping out of his chair and swooping the toddler up into his arms. Her chubby little hands squeezed his face so that his lips puckered like a fish. Sebastian laughed and switched his hold to balance her on his hip. “I’m so glad you’re here, munchkin. I missed you.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder and whispered, “Miss you.”

Georgeta and Anthony greeted the little girl, but she refused to be held by anyone except Sebastian. Once her grandmother and grandfather were distracted in conversation by the woman who had brought Milena to the reception, the girl pointed to Y/N.

“Uncle Seb, who that is?”

Sebastian smiled and sat with Milena so that she could be closer to eye level with Y/N. “This is my very good friend, Y/N. You met her before, but you were a tiny baby, so you probably don’t remember.”

Y/N smiled kindly at the little girl. “Hello, Milena. Your Uncle Seb told me you were pretty. I like your dress — you look just like a princess.”

That was all it took to win the little girl over. She settled comfortably on Seb’s lap while they adults spoke, smiling often at Y/N and asking a couple questions here and there. Y/N was making faces in an effort to make Milena laugh, and distract her from the somewhat heated conversation that seemed to be erupting between the woman who had brought Milena, Sebastian, and his parents. When the voices really got loud, Y/N reached out to take Milena.

“Are you hungry, princess? We can see what snacks are left at the food table.”

Milena went willingly, walking hand in hand with Y/N, who winked at Sebastian over her shoulder as they walked away. He gave her a grateful smile and turned back to his parents and Milena’s paternal grandmother, Alice.

“I know that Connor didn’t want to part of Milena’s life,” Alice was saying, “but that doesn’t mean Tim and I don’t want to be. My son’s choices are his own. I think we should explore the option of joint custody.”

Anthony sighed. “We don’t want to keep Milena from you, certainly, but Irina’s wishes were for her to be with her uncle. My daughter was very clear on the matter. Since Connor signed his rights away when the baby was born, I think it best that we honor what her mother wanted for her.”

“I can give her a very good life,” Sebastian interjected, “and you can see her whenever you like. I live right here in the city.”

Alice pursed her lips. “And when you’re working? I know you can afford to give her a good life, but there’s more to raising a child than the financial component.”

Sebastian bit his tongue. He had a lot to say, but none of it was kind or productive. None of it was going to help his case. He leaned back in his chair, letting his parents take over from there. As he glanced around the room, he saw Y/N and Milena standing by the food table. Both of them were smiling, and Milena was pointing to all the different things she wanted to try. Y/N held the plate with two hands as she crouched down so that Milena could pick up a grape in one hand and a cube of cheese in the other. Milena took a bite of the cheese then grinned up at Y/N, wrinkling her little nose.

The scene comforted him in a way he didn’t think was possible up to that moment. As he continued to watch his best friend and his niece interact, the seed of an idea was planted in Sebastian’s mind. He immediately told himself he was being ridiculous, but the thought tugged at his heartstrings and pulled on one end of his mouth, almost evoking a smile.

Y/N locked eyes with him as she followed Milena back to the table, a silent warning that any arguments needed to come to a stop. As the conversation between Alice and his parents didn’t seem to be slowing down, Sebastian pushed out of his chair and approached them.

“How about I take my two favorite girls to the park across the street? I know a little girl who loves to swing,” Sebastian smiled.

Milena clapped her sticky hands and reached for Sebastian to pick her up. He obliged, and once she had set Milena’s plate of snacks on the table, Y/N followed them out to the park.

AllOfTheThings: @captain-s-rogers @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @hurricanerin @horsesandbandsforlife @im-not-an-armrest-im-short @captain-rogers-beard @shynara51 @sea040561 @pinknerdpanda @xtina2191 @jackryanplz @beakami @heartsaved @fullprunerebelstatesman @blackwidowismyhomegirl @averyrogers83 @jennmurawski13

IYJR: @elsatxx @tanelle83 @amanda-teaches @etherealwaifgoddess @kmuir1 @ntlmundy @jayankles @rebekahdawkins @denise1605 @rhadigen

#marvelfluffbingo2020 #sebastian stan #fanfiction #reader insert #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian x reader #fluff #angst #drama #tw: death #queue and i remember budapest very differently

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omoi-no-hoka · 5 years ago

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I read your post on how you got started in the translation industry and I was wondering if it is possible to get an entry/basic level translation gigs in Japan with N3-level proficiency or if even those want at least N2 proficiency. Also since you've been living and working in Japan for a long time, what advice would you give those wanting to work in Japan in regards to avoiding black companies?

Finding Translation Work in Japan

Hi there! Thank you for your ask.

To be honest, “translation” is so very broad that I can’t give you a simple “yes” or “no” as an answer. My answer is “Maybe” with the following caveats. For the sake of this post, I’m going to assume that your native language is English, or that you have native-level proficiency, and you plan to do English↔Japanese translation in a Japanese workplace.

Field of Translation

This is perhaps the biggest factor. I understand that in order to translate legal or medical things, there is a particular certification that you must obtain. This requires N1/native level proficiency in both languages. I have thought of attempting to obtain the medical one, but I’m not ready for it. I would need to study a LOT of terminology in both English and Japanese.

As for other fields, I think it really depends on the company and how much they are willing to teach you on the job. Also, depending on the field, many field-specific terminology may be katakana words derived from English, meaning that while they will be new Japanese words for you, they will not be entirely new words.

But if I were to work in, say, the banking industry doing translation, I would certainly have a hard time learning all the words, especially if I didn’t already have some sort of background in banking in English.

For example, I specifically work as a translator for a company that provides services to other very big companies that you have heard of. Technically, I work for an anti-malware software company and the technical support aspect of it. When a product is updated, I will translate internal manuals and things like that. I also translate the Big Wig conversations, which are done in English since the client and our company’s HQs are in America, so that our local guys know what’s going on. I also create/translate/edit/take minutes for presentations given to Big Wigs. I also handle all IT issues in our project, because our IT ticketing system is 100% in English. ANYTHING English-related is funneled to me.

Contractually-speaking, I do not work for any other clients. But since I’m the only translator in our company in Hokkaido capable of interpretation as well, I am often asked to assist under the table. (Translation and interpretation are two entirely different beasts, btw.)

While I don’t have a background in IT or computers or anything like that, since most of the terminology is in katakana and I’m not absolutely clueless about computers, my learning curve wasn’t too sharp. I struggled more with bullshit corporate acronyms and the formalities of Business Japanese (sonkeigo and kenjougo).

A person holding an N2 is considered capable of Business Japanese. Even if you have extensive knowledge in the field of translation, you will have a VERY difficult time adjusting to the Japanese-language workplace if you are not good with Business Japanese. From that standpoint, I cannot recommend someone at N3 to enter a Japanese company to do translation. It will be grueling. I was N1 when I joined the company, and I still had difficulty composing emails and other workplace-related words I hadn’t come across.

Start with Freelance Translation/Proofreading

There was a year or so where I had N1 but was still teaching English. I found freelance English-Japanese translation jobs online. Lots of them were one-shot things, like “translate this brochure about our little tiny town” or “I am a researcher who has written a paper on Persian-French relations during the 16th century, and I need someone to proofread my English.” Lol that one was pretty specific and paid very handsomely. By doing well on a job, I established a relationship with that client and I would get more work either from them or someone they knew. Prices are fixed before translation.

The average price for translation is 3-7 yen per character (if the original text is in Japanese) or per word (if the original text is in English). The price increases depending on the complexity of the material. The brochure about the little town was 4 yen per character, but the research paper was 9 yen word (despite the fact I was only proofreading instead of translating because it was incredibly complex).

Proofreading goes alongside translation. I didn’t really do much of that, but you can see a price range of 1-5 yen per character/word. If you are N3, proofreading is great way to get your feet wet!

NOTE: Do not take on proofreading or translation jobs for a language that is not your native language. No matter how good you think your Japanese is, it will not be good enough to proofread. Even if you have an N1, you will miss things. Even I, as a translator with almost 3 years experience in my field, always have a Japanese coworker proofread everything I translate into Japanese, and 9 times out of 10 they fix at least one thing.

How to Avoid Black Companies

In Japan, some companies are labeled ブラック企業 “black kigyou,” which means that they violate labor laws in some heinous fashion. Denying pay, benefits, or leave, forcing employees to do grueling amounts of overtime that can lead to 過労死 karoushi (death by overwork), etc. These companies will rob you of your sanity at best and your life at worst, and are to be avoided at all costs.

When I was searching for a position teaching English, I googled reviews of each big Eikaiwa school, like AEON or whatever else there is. Many previous teachers air their grievances on places like glassdoor.com. It was easy to learn which schools I should avoid.

Also, I applied online to many different big Eikaiwas. Three of them (sorry, I can’t remember which) immediately emailed me back and said I was hired, without an interview or anything. That should be a HUGE red flag to you right there. Why are they so desperate to hire that they’ll take you without even giving you an interview? And even if they do later say, “Your hiring is dependent upon an interview,” that means that their initial contact email was fraudulent.

Research the company as best you can. See if you can find someone who has worked for them. Beware of smaller, private companies. They tend to fly under the radar and are prone to be even shittier. Then again, there was a woman who died of death by over work a few years ago and she worked for the biggest advertising firm in Japan.

Here’s an article from Business Insider about karoushi and black companies.

A 2016 report examining karoshi cases and their cause of death found that more than 20% of people in a survey of 10,000 Japanese workers said they worked at least 80 hours of overtime a month.

The Health, Labor and Welfare Ministry defines the threshold for karoushi as greater than 80 hours of overtime a month. Since this article was posted in 2018, a new law regarding overtime has been implemented by the Japanese government. Now there is a legal cap on overtime of 100 hours per month (and 720/year) for busier months, with the general upper limit set at 45 hours per month (360 hours/year).

Even if a company isn’t black, be prepared for overtime. My company makes sure that every employee adheres to the 45 hours per month limit...as best they can. If you follow this blog you know that I have done 60 and 70 hours of overtime in certain months, because I am our only translator and when shit hits the fan I’m the only one who can handle it.

However, my company is very good about making sure that I receive all of my overtime pay. Every single minute of overtime I do is properly reimbursed. Sometimes this means that if I work 60 hours one month, I will only report 45 that month, and then report 15 extra hours the next month. Or I will take a couple days off but claim that I worked (with my bosses’ approval, of course).

I can’t speak for other companies for sure, but I fear that when this law was introduced in 2019, many companies did not change their business models and instead forbid employees from reporting overtime that exceeded legal limits, meaning they would be going without compensation.

So be aware that if you are going to work in a Japanese company, you are likely to have overtime. Some people don’t, and congratulations to them! But it is an extremely real possibility. Make sure that you can handle it physically and mentally, and that you are being properly compensated. After my first month of Big Overtime, my boss told me, “I’m surprised that you managed to do all that. I thought that Americans had a poor work ethic compared to Japanese people, but now I see that’s not true.”

kinda racist, but thx

If you have an interview and it goes well and you receive a contract, ask to take the contract and have time to think about it. Then, have a Japanese person you trust read the contract and make sure there is nothing shady hidden in there. Contracts and legalese are difficult enough in my own native language--I don’t trust myself to catch something in Japanese.

If your friend thinks that the contract is fair as well, and if you feel like the company has a good atmosphere, take the job. That is what I did, and I am glad I did.

Translation and Interpretation

A lot of people don’t know the difference between “translation” and “interpretation” and use them interchangeably, but they are actually entirely different tasks that require different skills.

Translation: the conversion of written text from one language to another.

Interpretation: the conversion of spoken word from one language to another.

You will most likely be hired as a translator, because translation is much cheaper than interpretation. However, if your company is like mine, you will have interpretation work to do as well. You may be asked to take part in meetings and facilitate communication between the English-speaking and Japanese-speaking people, or act as a guide to a client from American headquarters, for example.

With translation, you usually have the blessing of time. You can look up a word you don’t know, you can think about the grammar, you can think about tone.

But with interpretation, you need to be:

Listening to Speaker A’s English and mentally summarizing their words

Starting to say Speaker A’s words in Japanese while holding on to the bits that will come later because English and Japanese word order is so different

Continuing to listen to added speech from Speaker A as you concurrently are relaying their previous speech in to Japanese and retaining the parts that you can’t say yet because of word order.

Then do it all for again for Speaker B’s reply, and repeat.

Basically, your mind has to be doing three things at once. Does your head hurt? Mine does. If I have to do simultaneous interpretation like that for more than a couple hours I literally develop a headache.

I will NEVER recommend an N3 person attempt interpretation in a business setting. Nor N2 for that matter. It is hard and you do not have the benefit of time to think and double-check things.

Also, many people don’t understand exactly how difficult it is to do interpretation. I have to sometimes just say “Sorry, pause” to the speaker because my head can’t retain any more, especially if figures and data and dates are referred to. Thankfully my coworkers have come to understand my method and are just happy that I can facilitate communication for them.

If you have any other questions regarding job hunting, please let me know and I’d be more than happy to offer what advice I have! 💖

#Anonymous #work in japan #life in Japan #expat in japan #japanese translation #japanese interpretation #job hunting #job hunting in japan #japan #ask me anything #asks are open

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iristial · 4 years ago

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Continuation of this post about episode 40 and feelings galore

Zero Two vs. Ark Zero - a representation of the heart, and the importance of responsibility

Heart

As a perfected A.I. who can look into all probabilities, the Ark thought no one could surpass it. But you can’t predict the heart so easily, like how you can’t define a dream through a Google Search. What a callback to episode 1 :D

Feelings! Overcome! Technology! The latter can achieve great things, but it’s the former that achieves miracles. These words were first used by humans dominated by chips in their brains, to assert they’re still their own person (Fuwa) and to ignore the path of cold logic they’ve taken their whole lives (Yua). Now it’s Izu’s turn to show a Humagear once limited by programming, once seen as a product, can love someone to the point of achieving godhood. The sheer opposite of the Ark, who never cared for anyone but its own ambitions (and yes, it was denied the opportunity to make connections, but it’s not exactly the most sympathetic being)

It’s rather interesting that Izu required somewhat negative emotions to make Zero Two. Up until now, ‘good’ Singularities have been defined by positive emotions - specifically pride in a job. Then again, Subaru in episode 15 expressed distress upon reaching Singularity, and he’s someone who dearly loves his brother. Also, grief is a sign that the heart exists, that one isn’t as cold or as merciless as you may think. By caring for someone, they might as well be an extension of you - so when you lose them, it’s like a wound that can’t heal. And how you handle the grief is just as important - we see that in Aruto and in Horobi, after all (Azu’s manipulations are also responsible, but that’s another topic)

I said somewhere during this rewatch that Zero One is about rising and falling and changing yourself. With the “it’s never over” line from Zero Two’s henshin jingle, I can add that it’s never too late to change because the heart changes all the time. You aren’t the same person you were a year ago - maybe even a day ago

Responsibility

The Ark highlights the importance of guiding the crystal clear A.I., as Aruto noted in episode 16. At the time it seemed like an obvious statement, because of course one’s perceptions are dependent on their experiences/learning. But at the same time, Humagears aren’t born with the emotions and autonomy humans take pride in - and arc one was a period when Humagears were seen more as angelic products than people in need of guidance. The Ark started out “pure” and ready to learn. But it was fed negative data, and with its “parent”/role model (Gai) refusing to take on responsibility (even after his redemption btw) and without people to teach it otherwise, it reached the extreme conclusions it did. Unlike Izu, who despite her ups and downs was treated as an equal; had her questions answered; was cared for by someone who always took responsibility (and was ironically taught by the person who averts his share of it)

This is the extended version of the OP

The rubble around Aruto was Hiden Manufacturing, not Hiden Intelligence

Him stumbling and falling before Izu reached out to him is symbolism for how he would’ve died, if not for ZEA responding to her heart, therefore allowing her to perform simulations

The single tear Izu sheds is the emotion she never experienced before - or rather, all of her feelings for Aruto rising to the surface and translating into grief and fear

The show of the different generations. Aruto quotes his father and grandfather of leaping towards a dream, thus displaying he’s the maturation of Korenosuke’s idea + stepping away from his family legacy to be his own person

Lately Fuwa’s been saying variations of “that doesn’t sound bad”. So when he said “a human and a Humagear sharing a dream” and Yua adds “that doesn’t sound bad”, that means they were finishing a sentence together. Bonus points for how he pauses and looks at her, like he was waiting for her to chip in. The two of them aren't as standoffish and guarded as they were in episode 1, that's for sure ^^

The smiles Jin made - it was like seeing Jin of the first arc again. He hasn’t smiled like that in a longggg time

Bonus points because his smile fulfills the Hiden family’s aim to create technology that brings smiles to humans and Humagears :)

I find it sweet that in a billion simulations, Jin moves to protect Aruto (who can’t transform) from the Ark. I know it’s because he’s pinned the last of his hope in Aruto aka he’s doing it for pragmatic reasons, but I also like to think Jin warms up to people quicker than he’d like

Every time I watch Izu cry and see Aruto die, my reactions get worse. Neither of those scenes were easy to watch ><

In his second fight with the Ark, Aruto vowed that even if he was scared, he refused to run away. And he carried that promise to the end in a billion simulations aka possible futures. Darn it, you didn’t have to be good on your word for once

What’s even sadder is that Izu literally can’t see a world without Aruto, for her interactions have been limited to him. Of course, I’m sure with time and effort she can forge connections with others. But it’s likely going to be five times harder, since her feelings are also built on her programming to act as his secretary (also keeping in mind that in earlier episodes, when she made a slight error, her first resort was to dismantle herself as compensation)

You look me in the eye and say Yua wasn’t feeling responsible for Aruto’s death, because she was barely holding herself together for the whole scene where we were privy to Aruto’s corpse. Sure, she didn’t know him personally - but she knows he didn’t deserve this fate, and she did attribute to some of his troubles + couldn’t make it right before he died

Fuwa being unable to accept Aruto’s death is one thing. Him turning his head to the wall after snapping at Gai in simulation one, and staying that way until the Ark started attacking the city? He couldn’t bear looking at Aruto’s body, I cannot

I noticed Izu’s memory stick serves as the basis of the Zero Two Key; meaning that technically, it’s a backup of her data. And as far as I know of, it wasn’t destroyed, so Aruto can still revive her. Not that bringing her back would’ve been the best way to resolve the conflict in episodes 42~45. It’s just that - well, Izu 2.0 (who’s already filled with implications) conflicts with Aruto’s words of a Humagear’s demise being the same as death to him (i.e. episode 29, begging Gai not to kill the Humagears; episode 30; clarifying to Jin he doesn’t see Humagears as tools)

#14shyx #kamen rider #kamen rider zero one #kamen rider zero-one #kamen rider ramble #kr.zero one (01): episode 40 #i vowed to myself i wouldn't watch another zero one episode until i finished this and boom! red carpet of thoughts #kr reload ➷ zero one

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rootcut3 · 4 years ago

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Free Tarot Card Analysis

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#tarot reading #tarot card reading

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maximuswolf · 4 years ago

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A little bit of the history of U.S imperialism after the fall of the U.S.S.R via /r/communism

A little bit of the history of U.S imperialism after the fall of the U.S.S.R

The post seeks to explain the postmodern developments of American imperialism. It was originally made in Portuguese, transcribed to English quickly with Google Translate and I tried to fix all grammatical errors I could find. Many people come to this subreddit asking about Russia, Syria, Yemen and other specific countries. As such, I believe this post to be useful.

The major contradiction that surrounds the globe is that of American imperialism and the most diverse manifestations of anti-imperialism and counter-imperialism. The death of the USSR over a convulsion of multinational neoliberalism created the conditions for US neoliberal momentum and the submission of the globe to its will.

In Yugoslavia, the last bastion of European socialism (Portugal's '' socialists '' make us laugh at their austerity) was consumed by German-funded nationalist barbarism (with an interest in Croatia, Slovenia and its possibilities for projection into Eastern Europe) and American. The IMF's loans to Yugoslavia, as always, demanded neoliberal reforms which, to the dissatisfaction of such organizations, Tito and Milosevic only submitted to. A false image of the Serbs as mass rapists is created, sparing Croatian crimes; of Bosnia and Kosovars of media attention. Eventually, Yugoslavia is dismantled in a sinister threat to Russia. A puppet state for American interests is created in Kosovo, the extraction of mineral resources included on that program. Montenegro and Serbia gradually leave Russia's orbit (the former more than the latter) creating a tense geopolitical scenario.

The oil crisis in the 20th century proved to be the Bush administration's biggest concern, it planning invasions against Saddam Hussein and the Taliban even before 9/11. Saudi Arabia had become too big, too ambitious to be controlled by the United States. It financed Islamist terrorism and Wahhabi institutions around the world in a rejection of Westernist principles. The importance of Saudi Arabia for the free movement of oil, as well as its collaboration on many issues of international politics and the purchase of American weapons, prevented any possibility of extensive publication of these findings, even when the financing of Al Qaeda by the Al-Saud and assistance with its state intelligence culminated in 9/11. However, the ignorance of the American public could be exploited from the trauma of Al-Qaeda to "" fight terrorism and the nations that shelter it "" in a relatively disconnected way with 9/11.

In Iraq, Dick Cheney and other neocons were exhausted from Saddam Hussein's use of oil as a bargaining chip. By turning on and off the taps of black gold to erratically, crude oil prices threatened to rise, against the interests of refineries across the globe and possibly creating a global energy crisis (Iraq's oil importance cannot be underestimated, it is considered by some analysts greater than Saudi Arabia). The invasion of Iraq was not exactly aimed at the extraction of these oil resources by the imperial powers, although this was an important bonus that motivated the participation of the United Kingdom, but simply to put that oil in motion. China and Russia would soon take some of the pie with their state-owned companies, something not ideal but acceptable in the context of American interests.

In Afghanistan, a progressive socialist revolution with feminist characteristics was stifled in the Cold War with a blackest reaction supported by the USA. It did not interest the pastoralists and the old elites in Afghanistan the programs of the Sardur revolution and the United States gave moral support; financial and military support to their counter-revolution efforts. Afghanistan was not a Soviet republic, but it was part of its sphere of influence, hence the importance of fighting Afghanistan together with the vassals of Pakistan and Saudi Arabia, interested in Sunni uprisings. China has also financed opposition groups in its sad but understandable policy to combat Kruschevian revisionism. Eventually, Afghanistan was dominated by the Taliban and their female genital mutilation; destruction of Western icons (including a Greek heritage in Afghanistan until then) and a ban on music. The Taliban was only fought at the moment that it no longer collaborated with the US in the construction by USATCO of an oil pipeline starting in Uzbekistan and passing through Afghanistan, requiring intervention. Officially, the Taliban was hunted for cooperation with al Qaeda, which was real.

In Somalia, a war was declared on one of Somalia's first stable governments in the 21st century: the ICU, for its Islamist features. Thanks to its wealth of resources such as uranium and oil as well as its connection to the Gulf of Aden where much of the world's oil came from, Somalia has always been imperialized by the IMF and NATO. The local fishing industry has been destroyed both by radioactive waste dumped by European companies in the water and by the massive technological scale extraction of fish by foreign companies within Somalia's territorial waters.

Not all war is war properly said. Professor Gene Sharp's manuals created a guide on how to use civilian demonstrations, strikes and boycotts in the service of the CIA. The best example was the US incentive to the Cedar Revolution, a series of protests in Lebanon that put an end to the Syrian occupation, resulting from civil wars between religious and ethnic groups. Both Syria and Iraq were pan-Arabists, that is, they aimed at uniting all Arab nations in a single country, countries cut in half by the state of Israel. Secular and socialist pan-Arabism posed an obvious threat to the strategic interests of the United States and its allies Israel and Saudi Arabia, hence the opposition to Syria that would later become war. Note that there is no proletarian dictatorship in Syria and '' socialism '' means in practice a greater social democracy in intensity than in the West.

The Bush wars have claimed many lives, innocent or 'combatants', destroying the infrastructure of these countries and creating political instability. NATO's imperialist policy not only achieves its strategic objectives, it also destroys recipient countries. This is partly intentional, like negligent homicide. The destruction of Iraq and Afghanistan and, as we shall see, in Libya made possible both an initial expansion of the military-industrial complex that influences policy in the USA and reconstruction contracts that created inflationary cycles (that is, monetary expansion) that were taken advantage of by USA. They destroy and then rebuild, both phases of the capitalist process of avoiding contraction cycles by expanding the outside world.

One of the reasons that American imperialism went into crisis was that it went too far. The destruction of Yugoslavia, the creation of new oil routes in Afghanistan that deviated from Russia (on which the first world countries were highly dependent), oil penetration in Central Asia, the financing of anti-Russian politicians in Georgia and Ukraine...again and again the US has abused the world's second largest military power at its weakest moment. This context explains how Vladimir Putin came to power, a right-wing ultranationalist ready to recover Russia's strength not as a stronghold of socialism but as an imperialist force that falls short of the USA, at the taste of the domestic bourgeoisie. As a message, he invaded Georgia who planned to become a NATO member. Russia's recovery would have great implications for all of Eurasia, as we all know from the screams of the media and the heightening of tensions in Ukraine, always in the same West vs. East paradigm.

Belarus recently entered the Russia-US dispute. With a largely state-owned economy that never underwent neoliberal shock therapies (despite the lack of retirement among other capitalist aspects) and in Russia's sphere of influence, the relationship between the two degenerated by Lukansheko's resistance to Putin's attempts at absorption in a Union State, looking for new energy sources in Norway. This new vulnerability in Belarus was exploited by the imperialists through the traditional method of "promoting democracy" and Russian paramilitaries are known to be watching the situation.

Although the United States is not very directly involved, one cannot speak of Russia's geopolitics without mentioning the war between Armenia and Azerbaijan, which ended today (?) and lasted 45 days. But frankly, this issue is too complex for me. I will leave a link that I found useful: https://geohistory.today/nagorno-karabakh/#:~:text=The%20Republic%20of%20Nagorno%2DKarabakh,Azerbaijan%20that%20lasted%20until%201994.

Another country the United States has abused the patience of is China. The protests in Tiannamen Square were largely promoted by private charities associated with the West, and were harshly repressed by Deng Xiaoping. Thereafter, the terrorist-buying state of Turkey provided support to separatist Islamist terrorists in Xinjiang, a region of traditionally Turkish and Islamic China. The United States had previously provided assistance to the Tibetan insurgency under Mao, and continued to provide moral and religious support through its institutions. The US strategy with China was to dismember its diverse ethnicities into separate and enemy territories so that it will not be able to project itself geographically across Eurasia, unifying Tibetan separatisms; Mongolians; Uighurs and Hong Kong. Most recently, the US is attemping to force a color revolution in Thailand. Admitting this is no defense of the Thai monarchy but an understanding of its commercial relationship with the U.S and how installing a regime favourable to the West would be a strike against China. The U.S has also pitied Vietnam and China against each other whenever possible.

Like Russia, China has not been shaken by these attempts and has extended its economic and military dominance across the globe. The strong Chinese state-owned industry challenged the neoliberal models of growth and, through a policy based on non-interference in domestic affairs that contrasted with US imperialism, China attracted dozens of peripheral countries to its attention. Thus, we must understand the preference for China as a conscious rejection of the USA. The unified front between China and Russia represents the greatest challenge to the USA in modernity.

The endless wars of the USA could not be sustained indefinitely, requiring endless loans from the most diverse countries. Eventually, the irrationalism of bankers typical of neoliberalism created the crisis of 2008, with a deficit that required more loans and, consequently, more debt and more deficit. Income inequality has exploded. It was under these conditions that Barack Obama was elected, promising to resolve the insoluble contradictions of American imperialism on a progressive paradigm.

Obama did not comply with any of these proposals and in fact expanded the scope of the war beyond Bush, killing more people with drones. It is important to note that the war in Afghanistan was not over yet and Osama was not captured. It was in this context that Obama decided to replace soldiers with automatic drones that were supposed to promise fewer civilian deaths, and expanded the war to Pakistan to fight another Taliban front.

But the drones were more useful for saving the lives of American soldiers (which was probably the intention) than for Pakistanis and Afghans. Death from heaven created trauma for the local population, who avoided going to weddings because of the constant errors in recognition of drones. As stated, the US wars may not literally target the killing of civilians, but they are negligent in causing them.

Expanding the war in Afghanistan would not be enough and Obama declared three completely new wars: that of Libya, Yemen and Syria.

Libya had long been a stumbling block in the US. Allied to the USSR while it existed, Colonel Muammar Gaddafi had an anti-imperialist and socialist program of a similar nature to the one I described from Syria, that is, more of an intense social democracy than a dictatorship of the proletariat. Gaddafi also sought to overcome the tribalisms that divided Libya and harmful traditions such as the prohibition of divorce, by greatly expanding women's rights. Gaddafi criticized the democratic models of the West and proposed a controversial new model of direct democracy, Jamarihya. Regardless of the reservations that the reader has with this method, he was certainly more democratic than the Sunni Islamic terrorism that the United States financed in order to destroy this bastion of resistance to the Empire, consuming Libya in a civil war horrible enough for Obama to admit it as '' error '' in an abstract way. As always, European powers emerged from the air to protect oil. Gaddafi went through a phase of surrender and collaboration, dismantling his nuclear program, but he was still killed. This would serve to motivate North Korea not to abandon its nuclear program.

Practically the same thing is happening in Syria, both regarding the United States methods and in the nature of Bashar al Assad. The difference, however, lies in the support of Syria from the unified China-Russia front as well as from the regional power of iran. Only in this way has Bashar managed to stay in power. Iran is a non-secular Shiite nation that was imperialized by the United States under the Shah regime, being overthrown in Ayatollah Komeini's Islamic but anti-imperialist revolution. It is a regional power with large oil reserves and a respectable army, accused of financing the anti-Israeli group Hezbollah.

The situation in Yemen is substantially different. The Zaidi, a very significant Shiite minority in the north of the country who have a history of sovereign states in the region, threatened to expand a Shi'ite revolt over the Gulf states like Bahrain; UAE and Saudi Arabia, all marginalized economically and politically. Saudi Arabia installed a president favorable to its exploration interests, creating a spontaneous zaidi revolt that would be suppressed by the US-Arab junta. To justify the intervention, the US used the decontextualized motto of the zaidi groups of "Death to the USA, death to Israel" as a demonstration of religious extremism. Which is partially understood, but must also be understood as anti-imperialist reaction.

And that's it, folks. Does history end at Yemen? Obviously no. Yet my systematic knowledge ends here.

Submitted November 10, 2020 at 07:55AM by Ckaaiqoos via reddit https://ift.tt/35j2hzo

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suitofvibraniumarmor · 4 years ago

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If You Just Realized

Part Nine: A Little Overwhelmed

Summary: The day after the wedding, Y/N has lunch with Kennedy; Sebastian and Milena have a surprise for her. Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader Word Count: 1910 (excluding translations) Series Warnings: Death, angst, sadness. Lots of creative licensing, I’m sure. Chapter Warnings: Sex talk between friends (nothing detailed), feels. Square Filled: This entire series will fill my realized feelings square for @marvelfluffbingo. A/N: I’ve much enjoyed writing this series, and I hope all of you enjoy reading it! The tag list is open; requests to be added can be done so here. There are bits and pieces of Romanian throughout the series, mostly from Google Translate and the few things I’ve picked up as I learn the language.

Series Masterlist

“So, did you get laid last night?”

Y/N laughed at Kennedy’s wiggling eyebrows. “It’s not that kind of marriage, Ken, remember?”

She rolled her eyes. “I just figured maybe the wedding would have given you two some reason to celebrate or something. I know it’s been a while for you —”

“Hey!”

“And I don’t know about Sebastian but the guy’s been through a lot, he could stand to blow off some steam.” She took a bite of her salad. “Anyway, I really appreciate that you took time to meet me for lunch before I’m back to the West Coast. We don’t see each other nearly enough as it is, and with you in New York indefinitely …”

Y/N sighed and sipped at her iced tea. “You’ll just have to come visit when you can. I’ll do the same. Seb and I can bring Milena out —”

When she realized what she was saying, she stopped and cleared her throat. She couldn’t think of anything to cover for what she had just said, so she shoved a too-big bite of club sandwich in her mouth instead. Kennedy raised her brow and shook her head.

“Why won’t you even admit it to me, Y/N/N? Even a little bit? You can have feelings for Seb without being full-on in love with him, you know.”

She only shook your head. “No, it isn’t — see, honestly, I have never thought about him like that. Ever. He’s one of my best friends and I can be myself around him and count on him, and that was enough. More than enough. But then all of this started happening and he asked me to marry him and … and …”

If Kennedy’s brow went any higher, her eyebrows and her hair were going to get tangled together. “And what?”

“And last night, in the hotel room, we — it was just kissing, okay? He was just out of the shower, I needed help with my zipper. And he stopped it because he didn’t want me to think he was trying to get anything more out of this than what we’ve already established.” You drew in a slow, shaky breath. “So, if we’re just friends, why did I want it so bad? Why did I want him so bad? I’m pretty sure it had nothing to do with how long it’s been, before you say anything about that.”

Kennedy giggled. “I know this has nothing to do with that. Me trying to get you to open up about what you’re feeling towards Sebastian is not some sappy romance thing because the two of you got married and are going to parent this little girl together. I want you to really understand what you’re getting into — a short-term marriage that’s going to end in an agreed-upon divorce with someone who means more to you than only being one of your best friends.”

“But it’s never been like this before.”

“Sometimes … sometimes we need a push to help us see where we’re meant to be,” Kennedy shrugged. “Is that as close to admission I’m gonna get you?”

“This trip, anyway,” Y/N smirked. “I’m still trying to process all of this, I think.”

Kennedy finished off her salad then, giving her a few minutes to think. When the waiter came, she took care of the bill.

“Shittiest wedding present ever,” she joked, “but I also flew out here last minutes so, that counts, right?”

Y/N nodded and laughed. “Absolutely. Thank you, Kennedy. For being here and for — for everything.”

She smiled. “Anytime, friend.”

When Y/N returned to the apartment, Milena came running towards the door, blocking Y/N from going any further than the front door.

“Finally!” Milena screeched.

Y/N lifted the little girl into her arms. “Finally? Have you been waiting so long for me to come home?”

Milena nodded her head and grinned. “A surprise!”

“Hey, hey, don’t be giving away our secrets,” Sebastian laughed, coming into the room. He put a hand on Milena’s back and leaned over to kiss Y/N’s forehead. “I know you just got back, but if you’re up for a little drive, we’ll leave early before we meet everyone at my parents’ house for supper.”

Y/N shrugged. “Sure, I’m okay with that. Let me touch up my face and I’ll be ready to go.”

Milena wiggled down from her hold to go and retrieve her shoes when Sebastian instructed; Y/N headed to the bathroom to touch up her makeup. She was putting more lip gloss on when Milena wandered in, shoes on her feet and a jacket added to her outfit.

“Uncle Seb said ’s cold.”

Y/N nodded. “It’s kinda chilly — I’m going to put a jacket on, too.”

“Can I have some of that?” Milena’s finger pointed to the gloss Y/N was re-capping.

She crouched down to Milena’s level and put the tiniest amount on the toddler’s lips. Milena sat very still while the gloss was applied and pointed to the mirror when Y/N was done.

“Look at those pretty girls,” Sebastian smiled, leaning into the bathroom. “You ready to go?”

“I think so. How about you, princess, you ready?”

Milena nodded, then wrapped her arms around Y/N’s neck in as strong an embrace as she could manage. “Iubes.” [Te iubesc = I love you]

It wasn’t one-hundred percent correct Romanian, but the adults knew what she meant. Y/N snuggled against the toddler, meeting Sebastian’s eyes. She couldn’t read the emotions there, so she closed her eyes and answered Milena honestly.

“Te iubesc mai malt.” [I love you more.]

The drive to their destination was mostly silent, except for a Disney soundtrack playing and Milena quietly singing along when she thought she knew the words. Y/N wanted to reach for Sebastian’s hand and hold tight, for comfort. Before, she would have done that without question. Now, after what had happened in the hotel room, she was too worried about Sebastian thinking she saw something in their relationship that wasn’t there. Instead, she kept her hands in her jacket pockets and stared out the window for most of the ride.

“I thought we had somewhere else to go before your parents’ house?” she asked, realizing they were in the same neighborhood where Anthony and Georgeta lived.

“We do,” Sebastian confirmed.

He didn’t offer any more information, so she kept her further questions to herself. A couple of minutes later, they pulled into the drive of a pretty house — one Y/N didn’t recognize. Sebastian got Milena out of her seat while Y/N stepped out of the car and took a good look at the house.

“What is this?”

Sebastian only took her hand and smiled, balancing Milena on his other hip. He walked them up to the front porch, took a key from his pocket, and let them in the front door.

The place was large and blocked off from street view by a line of trees; the land was extensive. The construction and decor was all contemporary and well cared-for. The bedrooms were large, each had its own walk-in closet. The master bath boasted a tub she already couldn’t wait to sink into. At the back of the house, the shaded patio led to a swimming pool, and a koi pond even, beyond that. Despite the size of the house and its amenities, the place felt very homey — cozy, even. She wandered back through the slider, meeting Sebastian and Milena at the island in the middle of the kitchen.

“I thought maybe it would be good to be close to my parents,” Sebastian began, after Y/N had a chance to see the whole house. “The schools in the area are rated well, and it’s a quiet neighborhood. We can look at something different, if you’d like. Maybe I’ll have this house longer than …” He glanced at Milena, then cleared his throat. “Anyway, I put a bid in so we wouldn’t miss out, but I wanted your input, too.”

Perhaps this wasn’t so different than when he was demanding they decide together about what custody of Milena to ask for in the court filing, but for Y/N, it did wonders for him to so simply state that he wanted her opinion on such a big decision. She took a deep breath; she could picture Milena growing older here. She could picture them having family movie nights here. She could picture Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Year’s. Though she knew it wouldn’t ever happen, she could picture late night slow dances with Sebastian in the kitchen and changing one of the extra rooms to a nursery for a baby that would be a perfect mix of both of their features.

Sebastian put a hand at her elbow, pulling her from her reverie. “Hey, if this is too much …”

“No, no, it’s not that, I just,” she fanned herself and chuckled lightly, “I think it’s a little warm in here, yeah?”

His concerned frown didn’t soften. “Bright Eyes?”

How did that, a nickname she had heard a million times, make her feel even more warm? “I’m okay, Seb, promise. I love the house, I really do. So much. And if you love it, since you’re the one keeping it, you should leave the bid. How’d you get the key without being the owner, by the way?”

His frown morphed into a mischievous smirk. “I have my ways. C’mon, girls — let’s get over to Bunica’s before they start to wonder where we are.”

He held Milena’s hand on one side and Y/N’s on the other. At the car, he opened Y/N’s door first, then got Milena settled back into her seat. Y/N watched the house as they drove away, indulging herself on daydreams that were likely to never come true.

She was silent again on the way to his parents’ house, thanks to the daydreams, and was out of the car quick enough to get Milena from the backseat ahead of Sebastian. The girls headed to the porch ahead of him, but he caught up before they got too far.

“You all right? You’ve been flushed since before we left my apartment, you’ve hardly said a word in the car …”

“I’m fine. Probably just tired from the last couple of days.”

She made to move forward with Milena again, but Sebastian caught her by the hand. Georgeta opened the front door with a smile, immediately recognized the tension between the newlyweds, and so she beckoned Milena to the house. When it was only the two of them, Sebastian raised his brow, but Y/N shook her head.

“Hey, c’mon, talk to me,” he pleaded. “Since when do we keep things from each other?”

Y/N sighed and met his eyes again. “I’m not — I don’t want to keep things from you. I’ve just got a lot on my mind, you know? What Milena said before we left, and the house, the wedding. It’s all wonderful, but I think maybe — maybe I’m overwhelmed. I’m okay though, really.”

Sebastian pursed his lips. “If last night —”

“No, don’t even say it,” she interrupted. “I’m not going to let either of us dwell on that and make things awkward. We’ll have a good time with family this evening, I’ll get a good night’s sleep, tomorrow everything will be back to normal. I’m sure of it.”

He held up both of his little fingers. “Double pinky swear?”

She loosened up and laughed, hooking her pinkies with his. “Double pinky swear.”

“Good,” he grinned, taking her by the hand and leading her into the house.

IYJR: @elsatxx @tanelle83 @amanda-teaches @etherealwaifgoddess @kmuir1 @ntlmundy @jayankles @rebekahdawkins @denise1605 @rhadigen @peace-love-hobbitness @itsallyscorner @mizzzpink @auspiciousharriet @the-murder-strut-murdered-me @learisa @tellmewhatyouwill @katherinereid @lokilokilokilokilokiloki @thewolfsenate

#marvelfluffbingo2020 #sebastian stan #reader insert #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian x reader #queue and i remember budapest very differently

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bubbletimestories · 5 years ago

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Quarantine Beck (Quentin/reader)

Summary: The story of how Quentin Beck is so bored during confinement that he decides to find a damsel in distress for Mysterio. Except he falls on your profile and you start to trot him in the head. Between the heat, the confinement and the fact that he can send drones to observe whoever he wants, Quentin could well lose his mind.

Warnings: stupid Beck, he’s an asshole, as usual. Broken mug.

Themes: love, obsession, being bored, quarantine

A/N. This is not an ad for Smule (the application used at the end) but it is true that it relaxes. I especially wanted to stage a slightly stupid Beck and the fact that he sings ^^ Fic written quickly, without proofreading, for fun.

Translated with Google traduction, sorry ^^’

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24540031 (eng)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24539569 (fr)

*************************************************************************

Everything was ready for the big appearance of Mysterio, for the Elemental’s very first attack which would bring a whole new hero into the spotlight. Everything, absolutely everything was ready. And then the Covid struck.

At first, no one really cared, they weren't planning to launch any of their virtual creatures in China. A little Asian virus was not going to steal them the limelight in the newspapers, not against an earth giant or a walking tornado. But the little Asian virus did not stop there and we all know that in the space of a few months, the whole world was frozen behind thick windows. When the confinement was announced, more than one citizen felt a ball of anxiety crushing their throat, but it was nothing compared to the dull terror experienced by all the members of the "Mysterio" team. Being locked up is one thing, but when the greatest danger is cloistered between four walls with you, the global pandemic seems very slight.

The confinement was declared several weeks ago, the spirits are still heating up but many have already resigned themselves to having to wait quietly for the sun to shine on them again. Speaking in a low voice in a corner of the warehouse that has served as their home for far too long, Janice laments, carefully dusting the costume of the hero who does not yet exist.

"There is at least one good thing ... the helmet fits perfectly with the rules of hygiene. "

Victoria chuckles behind her back, recovering almost immediately with a concerned look upstairs, where their leader has taken up residence. Amid the debris of drones and other shattered objects, he turns in circles like a tiger in a cage, his slender figure cutting against the smoked glass window. Impossible to launch their great illusion now, it would be ridiculous to see a monster devastating a deserted city. No drama, no tension, it would have as much effect as a wet firecracker. So they have to wait, wait again, praying a little louder every day so that the operation chief does not commit murder. When he grabbed the hammer lying there yesterday, everyone held their breath as they imagined their last hour arriving.

" Hello everybody ! "

A cheerful voice startles the two women as Quentin descends the shaky staircase to mingle with the crowd, his face radiant and freshly shaven. He greeted everyone, patting one on the shoulder, saying funny word to an other, his irresistible charming smile on his lips. He’s sorry for yesterday, he got a little carried away, nothing serious. After all, there are worse things than being stuck here with friends. It gives them time to discuss, to refine certain details, to perfect what they have prepared with such care. Maybe they could think about how to add a little emotion to their script, although the tearful story of the bereaved soldier is already a great teardrop. Finally, he comes up to the costumer, slipping a hand behind her back, leaning over to watch her work.

- I am always impressed by the detail of this cape, all these hours of work… - It's ... it's because it's for you, Quentin.

The young man smiles and darts his blue eyes on Janice, just long enough to see her lose all means. It is easy for Beck to lead his world, a simple look is enough for him, a smile or a well-placed word opens all the doors. He decides to prepare a coffee before returning to see the seamstress, taking the opportunity to exchange a few words with Guterman on the story they have invented, the alliance on his finger... After having recovered the drone control bracelet to be able to check certain settings by speaking (he likes to be able to play with them), Quentin returns to his armor which he examines with a critical eye. Suddenly, his face darkens as he points to a small scratch on the shiny surface.

" What is that ? "

There is silence all around them although the tone of the young man has remained calm and playful. Janice suddenly feels in balance on the razor's edge and explains like a mother would talk to her son, if the latter was armed with a butcher's knife.

"Well ... it's a trace of past battles. The story of the Quentin Beck fighter will be more credible if the public sees traces of wear on the armor. "

He was the one who made this remark, insisting strongly that small details are the glue of good lies and that it should be as true as possible. The team leader nods slowly when he hears this common sense answer.

"More credible for the public ... it is for the public to believe in it ..."

With a great movement, he smashes the happily empty cup on the edge of the desk. He doesn't even pay attention to the handle that remains in his hand while the rest of the ceramic lies in a thousand pieces around him. His immense eyes give off a burning anger, unless it is madness dancing in flames in his angelic pupils.

"The audience will see what I want them to see. They'll believe what I want them to believe. Everything must be absolutely perfect, I mean PERFECT, for the arrival of Mysterio and perfection does not admit a scratch on the armor! "

He laughs as he steps aside, his fingers absently gliding across the control screen to make the drones fly, these obedient extensions of himself. Unlike others whose metal tentacles are the real masters, he can fully rely on the robots that roar around the warehouse, their weapons out and ready to fire. Quentin walks slowly, scratching his thin beard, deeply saddened by the fact that he has to live with people who fail to meet his ideal.

"I invest myself body and soul, we are all investing body and soul in this adventure, to make all these years of work something more important than stupid therapy for an alcoholic billionaire. All this hard work shouldn't go up in smoke because of a little mistake. "

No one dares to answer for fear of being shot in the head. Beck seems to regain his calm as he gently places the broken handle on the costumer's desk. The latter, tense of apprehension, feels uneasy when she feels a hand go up along her back to her shoulder, pressing gently as for a massage. The contact, as unexpected as it is sensual, is accompanied by a warm breath that disturbs the strands near her ear.

"Janice, Janice, Janice, you are a pearl ... Forgive me for this moodiness, I'm sure you can rectify that without problem. "

The woman nods vigorously and the drones all disarm together to return to land in their corner, their leader smiling, whispering before standing up.

"I knew I could count on you, honey. "

He can count on everyone here, they are a very close-knit team. Why these burial faces? It's a good day. Quentin regains his good humor, as do his comrades, as if the mug incident no longer existed. Well, since they're stuck here, why not put a little spice in the frame of their future hero? The young man has been thinking about it for a few days, but finding a damsel in distress would be a way for Mysterio to gain points. Who doesn't love rescue stories with a hint of romance? It's decided, he will take advantage of this confinement to choose the ideal candidate as others would peel the dating sites.

“We will find the ideal pigeon for our history. "

That's it, he is again totally focused and excited by their project, which reassures more than one person in the group. They are coming together, it will be like a game where everyone will judge the female profiles, even if the last word will obviously go to Beck. The latter settles down quietly, letting Will do the research and project the images using drones (they are very useful for watching a film). Quentin's eyes sparkle as he imagines the perfect prey, the one who will swoon in his arms under the applause of the crowd.

"She has to be pretty but not vulgar, not a bimbo or a brainless doll. Nor should she be too self-confident or intelligent, that would sound elitist. It is out of the question to take a teenager or an old woman, maybe a few years younger than me and obviously without disability, I don't want anyone to think that it is out of charity. Besides, she must be able to run and shout my name. Skin color doesn't matter, I'm not picky. "

Despite this last sentence, William realizes that his boss will not take the first young lady and it is by mopping the sweat on his forehead that he begins his research, going from photo to photo, from a Facebook, LinkedIn profile to another at the whim of "no", "no", "too cliché", "too ugly" from his leader. Hours go by and no woman really finds favor in Quentin's eyes, in his quest for perfection. If only he had a really clear idea of what he wants ...

- Walentyna Chmielewska… - Unpronounceable. - Alina Baez, dermathologist… - No - Y/N, she is currently in… - Ordinary - Christina Liang, professional dancer. - Lesbian, take a better look at her profile.

With an annoyed sigh, Quentin puts an end to this game which no longer amuses him, which in fact no longer amuses anyone. He will look for a young woman on his own, it will be simpler and faster. He therefore goes back to his office, giving free time to his team, eager to take advantage of a little calm. All the glimpses seen mix in his mind with a crisp buzz, hundreds of fake smiles, photoshoped skin and seductive poses. Although a photo trots in his head, very clear compared to the fog of other female figures. He found you ordinary and didn't even take the time to reflect on who you are.

Y/N... You are far from having a beauty of a model and besides, you don't seem to know how to pose or show off, even in selfies. But there's something in your eyes, in your way of smiling as if you were thinking of something secret that catches Quentin's attention. Since there is nothing else to do, he will be busy for an hour or two. Peeling your Facebook page turns out to be excruciatingly fast, you post nothing, your likes being limited to a few trivialities. Empty Instagram account, the only source of information is from your LinkedIn profile. If your photos reveal a blatant lack of narcissism or even self-confidence, your professional career shows that you are far from being stupid. You even have a higher level of education than Beck, which should offend his pride. He has rejected more than one profile for fear of being overshadowed, he likes to be the smartest one in the room. But no, you don't seem aware of your genius or you don't care.

"A girl like you posts more than that ..."

It is sure, you must have a pseudonym to browse other sites. Finding which alias you use takes him longer than he would like to admit, but when he finds out, it's the cave of wonders that opens before his eyes. Starting with your Tumblr account, nourished for years with your obsessions of the moment : fandoms, ships of all kinds. If a man's heart goes through his stomach, yours goes through your passions. With infinite fun, Quentin discovers what makes you vibrate, sometimes laughing with you in front of some funny posts.

Outside the office, the atmosphere gradually returns to normal. The debris from the cup are swept away, the drones carefully stored out of sight. Beck's absence gives the team some respite and they take advantage of it while it lasts. They do not know that a young qualified woman of some sort is currently occupying their chief, making him smile without even having met you. Without saying that you are fascinating, the engineer discovers you day after day, layer after layer, first the intelligent woman then the obsessive fan. Finally, he comes across a nugget, an oil well: AO3.

He should have suspected it, you love to write, it's an uncontrollable impulse that takes you to your body and pushes you to strum furiously on your computer for long hours. When he starts reading your fics, Beck likes to imagine you in front of your screen, shortness of breath and dilated pupils, letting the stream of words flow freely at your fingertips. Even if he is not really interested in these fandoms of which you speak, he swallows one, two, five fics without realizing it, carried away by your style. He imagines you as the reader, chatting with fictional characters, quivering under their caresses in your few writings for adults. Hidden behind your screen, you expose yourself and reveal a sensuality that cannot be totally imaginary, totally fictitious. You have written several since the beginning of confinement, translating your thirst for adventure, your hunger for physical contact, with a touch of humor. But do you only have experience in body and love games? It is not certain and it is all the more exciting: he can make you discover sensations that you hitherto only partially imagined.

Without even knowing it, you creep into the mind of the young man to occupy his thoughts, ghost or fantasy that has nothing to do with the companion he wanted for Mysterio. You are neither magnificent nor the kind to languish against a hero in armor, but Quentin does not think of you for his avatar. He imagines you with him, behind the smoke screen, impressed by his ideas and his virtuosity. Confinement is bad for him and he spends most of his time with you, in thought, until he decides to go further with the discovery. He wants to see you, not only in pictures but moving, living. Without really telling the rest of his team, he sets out to send a drone outside, devoured by curiosity. After all, if he has to make you the love interest of Mysterio, it is normal that he learns as much as possible, he is the perfectionist type.

This is not really voyeurism, he does not intend to spy on you in intimate moments and, anyway, he could only see through the windows. Feeding his obsession, Quentin does not care about the surprised or even disapproving whispers which fill the warehouse a little more every day. Opinions are divided between those who find that their leader goes too far, especially using their precious drones, and others who see this little break as a deliverance. As long as Beck is busy elsewhere, the team is safe from his rage. Even though citizens are cloistered at home for their security, Quentin sees the world scrolling from his small screen as one could walk on Google maps. You're not hard to find, sitting at your desk above your study books. Since the announcement of confinement, your brain has paused and you can’t work, even for an hour. Not knowing you are being watched, you breathe a dramatic sigh while rocking back, arms dangling on each side of your chair.

"I'm so lazy..."

Your unsightly and totally natural posture has something comical, especially for the one who spies on you, drinking from you for days. You look younger than he thought, maybe because of your loose t-shirt that makes you look like a teenager. It’s strange to hear your voice for the first time, as if you suddenly became real. The ambient heat makes your skin shine and you get up by shaking your top to get some air under the fabric, still grumbling. Beck loses nothing of your movements or the detail of your silhouette with full curves that terry shorts absolutely do not hide. He suddenly wants to be really close to you, to feel your thighs streaked with white under his fingers, to hear his first name in your mouth. What is your laughter like? What does your skin taste like? Do you like popcorn in the movies? It’s totally unrealistic, stupid and even perverse to be so interested in you. He really has nothing to do with his days to be so bitten. He hadn't been spying on a woman for years, it was the withdrawn and bizarre teenager who resurfaced. Today, he can have all the women he wants with a snap of his fingers and yet he still finds himself fantasizing about a chance encounter, a way of approaching you.

"Show yourself instead of looking at me from afar, it's scary. "

Immersed in his thoughts, Quentin jumps when he hears you say that, he made sure to hide the drone, you cannot have seen it and even if it was, you cannot react so calmly by knowing you were being spied on. An icy chill runs down his back but you are not looking in the right direction, your eyes lowered towards a ball of hair which comes to rub against your legs. A cat, you were talking to your cat.

« Since you're here, I consider that you send me a sign. No more work, I relax. »

Always ready to see signs of the universe when it comes to not working, you close your book and get a headset and your phone, your thumb fluttering at high speed on the cold surface of your screen in a gesture automatic. Intrigued, Quentin bends down slightly to observe your strange ride, the way you walk back and forth by adjusting the microphone of your headset before clearing your throat. Are you about to call a friend? You dance slightly while staring at your screen, marking a rhythm that only you hear while continuing to stroll under the bewildered gaze of your voyeur. What are you doing ?

In sleep, he sang to me In dreams, he came That voice which calls to me And speaks my name…

You sing ... you sing into your micro while holding your phone, your voice soaring up to the drone as you smile without being able to stop yourself, as if you were on a Broadway scene, simmering with excitement. Hidden in his warehouse, Beck does not believe his senses ... Not only do you sing well but you are simply magnificent, radiant with simple joy, thinking you are alone in the world. Thinking that you’re out of sight and criticism, you have fun without shame and it makes you beautiful. Fascinated, the young man who shakes an entire team of engineers, who is only animated by the burning fire of pride and revenge, has eyes only for you. Without realizing it, he begins to sing too, joining you softly for what is technically a duet. When the song ends and you catch your breath, Quentin lets out a satisfied laugh. He holds his solution to approach you, not as Mysterio but as... himself : he will join you on this application and sing with you.

More cheesy, you die.

#fanfiction #quentin beck/reader #Quarantine Beck #Covid-19 fic

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thanksjro · 5 years ago

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Eugenesis, Part Five Scene One: I Guess Everyone’s Just Lost Their Minds At This Point

New Part! Let’s see what we’re working with.

Hmm. Well, it’s not Latin- I checked. It’s not any language, if my extensive research on Google Translate is anything to go by. Maybe it’s not a word, but rather part of one. It kind of looks like a piece of a message that’s been chopped up, perhaps by bad signal or interference. “Life traces” is going to be my guess. We’ll see where this goes.

It’s New Years Eve, and Soundwave’s ride just quit on him. That’s okay though, because he’s about where he wants to be anyway. He’s reached Helex, and is about to enter Leagus- the silo that Sixshot’s bunker is under.

I know, it’s been forever since we last saw him!

So, Soundwave’s just escaped imprisonment, the enemy is everywhere, he’s beaten all to hell, and what’s the first thing he does?

Soundwave’s a good dad, though l feel if he knew what Sunstreaker had said to Spooler, he’d be storming Kledji himself to enact some vengeful parenting on his ass.

Laserbeak drops Frenzy out of the sky in front of Soundwave, and he sticks the landing. No word as to Roberts’ take on his color-scheme, but I can’t wait to see him compete in the next Olympic games. They greet their carrier, saying that they thought he was dead, and so does Sixshot.

Sixshot’s been holding everyone underground, saying that the Autobots have been holding the Quintessons off. Sixshot’s a friggin’ liar.

No more lips, I’m begging you.

Soundwave busts into the silo, throws Sixshot’s door wide open, and essentially calls him a bitch to his face.

Soundwave’s the best, you guys.

Sixshot, sensing that this isn’t going to go his way, calls for Octane to come to the throne room to take care of their guest. Too bad everyone just straight-up doesn’t respect him. They show up, but they just watch as Soundwave tears into him. They could have turned the tides of this invasion, if Sixshot had stopped sitting on his ass and DID something about it. Sixshot takes out a gun and threatens to shoot Soundwave. Soundwave says ‘try me bitch’, and he does. It’s a shame Frenzy grabbed the clip out of the gun before he grabbed it. Octane tosses Soundwave a gun- this one being loaded- and Soundwave blasts Sixshot in the chest. He then pulls the shooting victim to his feet and asks if anyone wants to keep the poor bastard alive. It’s a resounding ‘no.’

Soundwave, why do you know you can do that? Why are you aware of the fact that you can punch your fingers through someone’s metal-ass skull and crush their brain? How many times did you practice this? Did you practice at all, or are you just running off of pure rage and murderous intent at this point?

Having killed Sixshot in the most hardcore way possible, he tells the Decepticons to load up and get ready to head out.

Meanwhile, over at Delphi, it’s time for Science™ with the Sci-Guys Pincher and Swerve! The boys are taking a look at those bottles the Micromasters brought in along with Galvatron.

We get some prime Swerve action here- all snark, all self-depreciation, and not one iota of self-preservation.

Fastlane walks in to see how things are going. He just got back from Optimus Prime’s FOUR HOUR speech. Pincher’s about to shoot the cap off of a bottle with a gun. Things are suddenly silly again, and it’s a bit of whiplash for the brain.

Fastlane knows who he’s working with, apparently.

Now, we the readers know what’s in these bottles, since we’re following the narrative, but our sci-guys do not. Swerve’s still a good ten years away from getting Meta-gunned, so that’s not a skill in his arsenal at present.

And proper lab safety protocol wept. Swerve, what the actual fuck?

So the aqua fortis obviously burns straight through his stupid little hand, and Fastlane orders a toxicological report on the contents of the bottle.

Let’s do a wellness check on Prowl.

Hmm. That’s... not great.

Hey, so, looks like Prowl actually did try to kill himself with a wasting disease. Look, man, I hate to be the one to encourage suicide, but surely there are better ways to do it. You’ve been at war for millions of years, surely one of the billions of guns that were manufactured was lying around somewhere. Or there was a roof to jump off of. Something other than this.

Chromedome and Red Alert are just kind of staring at him in his quarantine pod, like they can’t believe he actually did this either. Red Alert’s convinced that they need to keep this secret from everyone else, considering that they still have Kup to deal with.

Well, we found the necrophile in the ranks, so we got that going for us at least. Also, not sure how you’re going to keep the fact that the leader of the Autobots is dying, especially since there’s only a handful of you guys left.

Prowl’s in a bad way. They don’t know what strain of disease he has, and without a donor for tissue, he’s basically a dead man.

Perceptor’s in charge now. Chromedome wanders off to go check the messages on their answering machine, then almost immediately calls Perceptor over to take a look at what he’s found.

You’re going to have to be WAY more specific, Chromedome.

Well that’s just 𝙛𝙖𝙣-𝙁𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙂-𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘.

Perceptor calls for all hands on deck, get ready for a fight. Everyone loads onto the balcony to watch death approach.

Then Perceptor does something that Swerve would never think of.

He uses his brain.

Turns out it’s not the Quintessons. It’s Soundwave and the Decepticons. I smell a team-up!

We’ve barely started, and Part Five is already gearing up to be the weirdest one so far.

#transformers #jro #eugenesis #part five #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #prose writing

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t-baba · 5 years ago

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10 Best White Label Branding Plugins for WordPress

What is White Label Branding?

Your local supermarket chain has its own supermarket brand products it offers to its customers. These supermarket brand products are cheaper compared to the same product sold under a fancy brand name. Does this mean that the supermarket manufactures its own products?

Not at all. The products are manufactured by third parties contracted by the supermarket chain to produce products under the supermarket brand name. The supermarket chain gives an impression that it has manufactured the products.

This is called white label branding. It is a worldwide phenomena. And it is not limited to supermarket chains. All industries and sectors practice it.

Think of big electronic manufacturers and retailers of your favorite desktops, laptops, mobile phones and so on. They too put their brands, logos, and serial numbers on white label products.

White label branding is not restricted to physical products. It is widely practiced in digital products too.

In this article II will explain how white label branding works in WordPress then I will explore some white label branding plugins for WordPress that are available on Code Canyon.

WordPress sites can have a cookie cutter appearance recognizable by many. The content management side especially. You can customize the appearance of the back-end to reflect your clients’ brands by using white label branding plugins.

How Does White Label Branding Work for WordPress?

Here is how white label branding works for digital products: you buy white label digital products and services, put your brand name on them, and resell them as your own.

But white label branding for WordPress works differently.

How White Label Branding Works for WordPress Developers

As a developer you have many clients. This means you have to create their websites—to reflect their unique brands. Coding a new WordPress website from scratch every time you have a new project is costly both in time and money.

Turnkey WordPress websites offer a simple solution. You can use the same website template—both front-end and back-end—for different clients. You only need to customize the website to reflect specific identity of each client.

This involves adding the brand name, logo, and specific graphics and content that identify and differentiate each clients. It means removing standard logo, graphics and information that comes with the WordPress and personalizing the website with clients’ content.

Most of the time what customers see when they visit a website is the front-end. This is the public image that represents the company.

But there is more to a website than the front-end. There is the back-end with the dashboard that customers don’t get to see.

People who run the website use the back-end every day. They want to manage their own content, inventory, images and so on. They do this using the dashboard. Every time they log in to the back-end they want to see their brand reflected and not the cookie cutter WordPress logo and messages.

Using White Label Branding Can Help Your Reputation as a Developer

Imagine every time clients log into the back-end they are greeted by the same standard WordPress dashboard message and WordPress logo. They wonder why am I not greeted by my own brand name? My own logo? My own messaging?

This is where using turnkey websites can reflect badly on you to your customers and ruin your reputation. If don’t do it right your clients will end up feeling you took them for their money and gave them a standard template you use with every client.

Full customization of both the front-end and the back-end of the WordPress website is important because it is a total reflection of the client’s business not only for their customers who only see the front-end but also for the business owners and employees who have to work with back-end tools. This kind of user experience and satisfaction reflects well on you as a developer.

How White Label Branding is Done

White label branding can be done manually or by using plugins.

The manual process involves making changes to your WordPress theme's PHP code by inserting snippets of code to perform the following tasks:

replacing WordPress logos with the client’s logo

replacing standard login images with client’s image

replacing the header

customizing the admin menu

replacing footer text like Powered by WordPress with your own wording

If you have no coding knowledge or little coding experience then manually white labeling is overwhelming. Same applies to the experienced developer pressed for time.

Of course, you don’t have to do all that manually. There are plugins you can use to do white labeling.

What Do White Label Branding Plugins Do?

They give you the ability to control and transform the appearance the back-end.

They help you customize the back-end of your WordPress without coding.

They come with extensive documentation that helps you do the customization by yourself.

You can completely transform the look of the dashboard, customize the appearance of the admin menu, logo, header, the width of the logo, the footer logo, and the login form, as well as replace standard WordPress messages with customized messages that reflect clients’ brands.

White Label Branding Plugins on CodeCanyon

On CodeCanyon you will find white label branding plugins that will help you customize your clients’ WordPress backend to reflect their brands.

1. White Label Branding for Multisite

White Label Branding for Multisite lets you control the branding of the main site and all sub-sites in a network of websites powered by WordPress Multisite.

It also allows you to:

give each sub-site the ability to do their own branding and customize their menus for the editor role

customize the menus and logos on each sub-site in your WordPress Multisite Network

replace the WordPress logo from the log-in screen and dashboard with your own identity or even your client’s

add custom dashboard meta box viewable only to editors or all users with your own welcome message or help

User bruceakinson says:

Amazing features, worked perfectly for what I needed it to do.

2. White Label Branding for WordPress (Single Site)

With the White Label Branding plugin you have the ultimate tool for customizing the WordPress admin and login screen.

It allows you to take full control over branding in the WordPress admin by:

customizing your login screen, menus and logos

changing the color scheme of the entire admin setion

creating your own advanced login templates

creating new user roles and assign capabilities

Not only that but, you can decide who has access to what features by hiding elements for other administrators.

You can even create a fake administrator account! This is useful if you want to give your clients “admin” access, but still limit what they have access to. The real administrator will also be hidden from the users list. This way a client with the “fake” administrator account will never know that they don’t have full access to all features.

Usery kops says

The ultimate white label tool - fantastic.

3. White Label Login for WordPress

White Label Login makes it easy to customize the default WordPress login.

It provides the following UI styles for login:

slide login

push login

modal login

In addition you can:

customize e-mails for registration and reset password

customize login and logout redirects by user role

insert dynamic login and logout links in the WordPress menu

insert dynamic buttons in your content with shortcodes

rewrite rules for wp-admin.php and wp-login.php

create social login support for logins using Facebook, Twitter, Google+, Linkedin and Microsoft Live

Also included in its list of dynamic features is a visual CSS editor for customizing colors and fonts for each screen. The plugin supports 600+ Google Fonts.

User by naftas says:

Very flexible plugin. Gives very good possibilities for the website developer for fine tuning of all login features.

4. WPAlter

WPAlter completely changes the style of the WordPress admin panel to your desired color theme.

Using this plugin in you can:

remove WordPress texts and logo

create custom login themes and add a custom logo for login and admin pages

hide, rename and re-arrange admin menu items.

hide admin menu items based on user roles

You can also white label emails.

WPAlter is tested for compatibility with popular plugins: Visual Composer, WP Super cache, WP Total cache, Contact form 7, WooCommerce.

User WPBlueLabel has this to say:

Great plugin. Allows tons of customisation that really enhances the WordPress Dashboard experience. Thanks a lot.

5. Material Admin

This multisite-compatible white label branding WordPress theme comes with:

100 elegant themes and gives you an option to create your own custom theme

20+ custom dashboard widgets for site and visitor statistics

LTR and RTL modes so can be used for any language

In terms of white label branding of the WordPress back-end you can easily:

rearrange menu and submenu items

change menu icons

enable or disable menu and submenu items

It also comes with a fully customizable login screen.

User thesourcep says.

Works awesome straight out of the box. Great default layouts and options and support is second to none. Awesome job—thank you!

6. Legacy Admin

Legacy Admin is an advanced, feature-rich white label WordPress admin theme.

It comes with the following:

20 elegant themes fully customizable

fully customizable beautiful login screen theme

admin menu management

Here is what Legacy Admin allows you to do in terms of white label branding:

customize admin top bar (all links and CSS Styles)

customize footer

customize login section

customize admin look and feel to represent your branding needs

customize the admin menu

add a custom logo and favicon for the admin panel

It is translation-compatible with RTL and LTR modes that can be used to support any language.

Finally, Legacy Admin is also multisite-compatible so it’s easy to install and ready to use on a multisite network.

Check out the demo and see why user Spac3Rat says:

Absolutely amazing. It transforms the WordPress admin drastically, making it pop. Love it.

7. Slate Pro

Say goodbye to the run-of-the-mill WordPress. With Slate Pro:

you can reimagine WordPress with a clean and simplified design

change or remove all WordPress branding

custom brand clients’ admins with custom colors and a custom login screen

Your clients don’t even have to know that you’re using WordPress! Also Slate Pro is multisite-compatible so you can control the look of all sub-sites.

User ATingle says:

An A1 plugin, oozes class—very, very impressed. Major props to the designers.

8. WPShapere

WPShapere is a very popular back-end customization plugin on CodeCanyon. It’s a very light plugin, easy to install, and easy to customize.

Here is what you can do with this powerful plugin:

remove the WordPress logo from the admin bar

upload your own logo to login page and on admin bar

customize login page design

customize the admin theme with 16 in-built themes to kick start your project

remove the WordPress default dashboard widgets

add your own content widgets and RSS widgets

customize admin bar links

add your custom logo, text content or links on the footer

create user access restrictions

User ChazzLayne says:

The perfect back-end customization suite, it's the missing piece that WordPress should have given developers from the start!

9. Ultra Admin

Ultra Admin is a combination theme and white label branding plugin that helps you design a WordPress site for your clients with your own company branding.

It comes with 30 built in theme templates. You can customize the admin menu, top bar, buttons, content boxes, typography, forms, text and background colors, logo and so on.

White Label Branding features will help you transform the back-end by:

rearranging menu and submenu items

changing menu icons

controlling top bar links

customizing footer

setting plugin access permissions

customing the login page

User Eight7Teen says

This is by far the most full-featured WP admin white label plugin available. It is incredibly well built and the developer seems eager to solve any issues you may run into. Definitely recommend!

Bonus

Here's one more plugin that isn't specifically a white label branding plugin, but could be useful for any white label branding project.

Menu By User Role

Menu by User Role gives you complete control over the menus in your WordPress powered website. You have the ability to:

create public menu

create a menu for logged-in users

create a separate menu for each user role defined in your website

In addition you can create a custom navigation menu, which can be used instead of thw default menu. In order to use this feature it must be registered in the theme’s functions.php file.

You can easily add pages, posts, categories and custom links to the menu. And you can even create multi-level menus with just a few clicks and organize them by drag and drop.

This plugin can be used together with White Label Branding for WordPress.

User deezeeweb says

Works really well - with every theme and user plugin I've used.

Conclusion

These are some white label branding plugins that caught my eye. You can find more plugins on CodeCanyon.

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