#leave my inbox alone jfc

[metagalacticx]

okay i might get sniped for this but whatever sjahbsh Some of you have a lot of energy for tyler posey for literally no valid reason besides what i’ve seen a hundred times referred to as "attention-seeking behaviour" in the past which. wtf does that even mean every time one of us posts anything it’s to seek attention or validation that’s literally the point who cares. and also apparently he said some mean things about a ship once?? again… go outside. but i see very little about the wHite man who has two very public (and one very questionable) instances of black/brown face in the past???

[teddybeartoji]

sooo about hybrid stuff... idk if that'd fit into what i've seen so far but i saw two videos on twitter with cages..

so my question becomes would it work with pup!reader? to be locked up as training? as punishment? as safety? by who? why and how exactly? would there be a full immersion into a puppy lifestyle or would it just be the cage and overall behaviorisms?

OKOKOKOKOKKKK HII HELLO NONNIIEEE:33333 first of alll i just want to link this godly piece of work for suguru by my beloved @mossmurdock!!!!! this is so fucking sexy so i am making you read it too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

second of allll!!!! so while i myself am not that into cages and being locked up, even like restraints and collars are a bit eeh for me just bc.. i'm a little claustrophobic lmao BUTTTT THAT DOESN'T MEAN I'M NOT GONNA BE HERE BRAINSTORMING WITH YOU NONNIEE:333

soo just like the work i sent you - i think cages and restraints and training goes sooo well with suguru. like ooooh my god it fits him so well. he fucking loves it. he loves the power, he loves seeing you all needy and desperate. loves seeing you panting for him, tongue lolled out of your mouth as you just blatantly eye his cock. it drives him maddddddd. aaaand i also think he would fucking love having a pup. the best type of hybrid for him imo!!!!!!!!!!!!

i think puppy!readers tend to get sooo worked up so easily so the training part is very needed. can't have you humping his leg all day now can he? he has work to do, so he has to train you to hold back on your urges just a little. oh and he loves when you whine. when you're in the cage, all locked up, looking up at him with theee prettiest teary eyes, crying out for him:((( that gets him so hard.

the cage definitely works as a punishment too!!!!!!!!!!!! if you just won't let him do his job or read his book, if you make a mess on the bed. if you steal his underwear:((( he's gonna call you a bad puppy with a low purr. it's sooo demeaning. he's soooo mean. but he still has his signature grin on his lips and that makes it so much hotter. you're getting wetter by the second and he knows it, he can see you clenching your thighs but ahh that just won't do. he's gonna lock you up and he's gonna leave you in the room alone. he knows you're just gonna get off by looking at him and that's not really a punishment now, is it?

he listens to you whine and whimper for him from the other room with a smile on his face. he's gonna resume reading his book, his cock hardening in his slacks. he's patient, horribly so, and he wants to break you. lovingly of course<333 you know better to touch yourself though, you know if you did that you'd just end up staying in the cage for way longer. you won't get a treat if you misbehave even more:(((((( you want to be good, you want to be better for him:((((((( and suguru fucking looooooves it he loves his pup he loves you:3333

ohh and as for whether it'd be a full immersion thing or just the cage and some behaviours mmmmmm i feel like that is so up to you yk? bc i guess full immersion would mean being a puppy in the public too right? eeh maybe i'm taking this too literally. for me the hybrid stuff is more just like mannerisms and behaviour and i don't really think abt any further than them staying at home hehehe

ANYWAYYY I LOVED THIS QUESTIONN AND I LOVE SUGUU:3333 my favourite brat tamerr!!! he's so fucking hot jfc. i need him. i need to brat tame somebody with him:333333 OH AND I JUST WANTED TO ADD THAT YOU CAN STILL ALWAYS TALK TO ME ABT CAGES N RESTRAINTS!!!! it's just not a topic i'm gonna bring up i think yk?? but my inbox is always open and very waiting!!! hehehehe i love youu!!

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

.

[okruee]

white people begone from my inbox please stop bombarding a person of colour with your shitty takes bro jfc im sick and tired of it i dont care what you have to say about race unfollow me or block me for it i dont fucking care leave me alone

[that-soccer-guru]

How do you feel about the matches against columbia? Do you think the team is in a good spot to beat them?

From now on, you go in my inbox and spell Colombia with a U? You have to venmo me 5 bucks for reparation. I must have spelled the name of my country at least 50 times in this place, and all the promotional materials have it spelled properly. So you're either letting autocorrect take it for you, or you're being deliberately ignorant but either way it's pissing me off. IT'S COLOMBIA, NOT COLUMBIA. JFC WE'RE A COUNTRY NOT A DISTRICT CAPITAL OR A UNIVERSITY.

Now. I'm gonna answer your actual question. Colombia is bringing a squad made up of mainly rookies with 5 or 6 returns, including a recent call up for Orianica Velasquez after Sophia García had to leave camp (she was signed to a team in Spain and will need to start training with her new team). Key players had to be left out of the roster because the games are not fifa dates and most players are in clubs that will need them for their games. So, this is already a ridiculously weakened team, even if the rookies are promising.

Now, on the USWNT angle, I'd be disappointed if they can't pull convincing wins. I don't care much to comment on the forwards because 3 have been out on extended injury leave and 1 is inconsistent at best in finding the net. The strength of this team is in its INSANELY deep midfield. Jill Ellis spent years building a midfield that could be shuffled around and lose out on a player or two and not be affected (Rose Lavelle is injury prone and there are still replacements for her, Lindsey Horan missed the last camp with the Netherlands and the midfield still held very well). The defense has a strong core, with very great replacement players and promising up and coming stars (including the stupid ass decision to keep Midge back there but as always I digress), and I don't even have to say anything about the goalkeeping because, c'mon, they all have incredible strengths and Alyssa Naeher is an actual wall.

The part where the uswnt might fall by the wayside is in the dynamic formation and how quickly the players get tired. Colombia's midfield, when on their A game, is good at closing holes and making a team exhaust themselves. If the uswnt thinks they'll breach through with speed alone, they're going to get tired really fast and that's a strength for the Colombia wnt. The defense is not particularly remarkable individually but they play very well in shadowing and strength in numbers plays. Don't be surprised if the forwards find they're being boxed out by 2 or even 3 defenders at once. The US team needs to be careful about how to play through the sides. They also need to play through the middle if they want to make it to the Colombia goal. Obviously I'm aware that this is the #1 team in the world for a reason, but their consistent play through the bounds is not hard to predict, as is their inability to make plays through the middle. Thankfully Colombia is not particularly gifted in the airgame department, most of the uswnt is taller than the average Colombian player, which is why they'll try harder to prevent the uswnt from making set plays and crosses to the box.

I think these games are VERY winnable for the uswnt. Colombia's team is mostly made up of players from a league team that absolutely sucked it this season, its biggest stars are either in Europe with their teams or banned from the NT, and they'll have the added problem of travel fatigue and not having had a single camp since the 2019 panamericans.

However, I hope that both teams take the opportunity to test out new formations and new players instead. I'm excited to see my girls of course, and I'm really excited to see the uswnt rookies, particularly the newly minted uswnt powerhouse, Catarina Macario.

Thanks for the question! (And learn to spell my country's name or i swear to God I will find you and tell you what for)

[destiny-islanders]

So My Computer Has Died

My hard drive has failed and I haven’t backed it up since 2017. Meaning I’ve lost years of art files, years of my writing, custom swatches and brush settings. All gone.

Just to run diagnostics and repairs cost me $200 today, and I was told I’ll most likely have to replace the hard drive, which would START at $500. (JFC might as well buy a new computer at that point,,,,)

As much as I hate to do this, I think I need help. And I don’t want to just ASK for money without offering anything in return... but the fact of the matter is I can’t even offer commissions because I don’t have a working computer.

So I’m holding a raffle.

I’m going to offer a full-color, two-character commission that’s on the level of the pieces I submit for zines, as well as two other prizes. (Once I either fix my old computer or get a new one, obvs.... OTL )

The Rules

If you’d like to enter, please buy me a Ko-Fi for $3 

My Ko-Fi is https://ko-fi.com/destinyislanders

Each $3 Ko-Fi = 1 entry

When you send the Ko-Fi, please include in the body of the message that you’re entering the raffle and leave either your Twitter or Tumblr handle so I can contact you if you win

Everyone who sends me a Ko-Fi between today and October 22 at 11:59 EST will be considered in the raffle.

There will be three prizes

First prize: full-color, two-character commission with lineless painted background

Second prize: full-color, one-character commission with simple background

Third prize: full-color, one-character chibi

Winners will be selected by random draw and have 24 hours to respond to the message I send to the Twitter/Tumblr handle you submit with your Ko-Fi!! So make sure you check your inbox of choice on the 22!!!!

Please respect my usual commission rules:

NO NSFW

No mecha, furries, or gore

OCs are fine! I will ask for as many references as you can possibly give me, though :)

I appreciate everyone’s support throughout the years. I never thought I’d find myself in this position, and tbh I feel awful about it. But I really could use a little help right now. Thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone for even reading this, let alone considering donating to my Ko-Fi. 

Drawing doodles and comics and sharing them with everyone has just become such an ingrained part of my life that I can’t imagine myself without it... I feel like I’ve lost a huge part of myself right now and I hate it. ;____;

[starfirette]

Every Which Way: Chapter Eight

The Way To Redemption 

⇢a/n: I hope this chapter can bring some light to everyone during this difficult time. This was difficult to write, so please let me know if something doesn’t make sense/sounds fragmented. It’s quite possible some paragraphs seem forced in! please leave your thoughts in the replies :) I love you all!!!!

⇢ masterlist | previous chapter | inbox | >>NEXT CHAPTER<<

⇢Din Djarren x Reader/The Mandalorian x Reader: angst | wordcount: 4, 453

⇢ Featuring, Wendi, Ryder, Paz, Gold, Lando, and Boba (JFC)

🏷 @woterezwhet @talesfromtheguild​ @poupoupoupoupou @multifandom-fiasco @fandomqueen74 @fifiyau105 @shayna-winchester @mserynlarsen​

To whomever it may concern, the transmission started. This is Lando Calrissian, the Baron Administrator on Cloud City. Following the disappearance of several men, as well as the Bounty Hunter I employed, I have come across a gunship marked from the Pre-Empire reign. The ship is empty but it is clearly missing its passengers. After careful investigation, I have chosen to relay this transmission to the last person or peoples in contact with the pilot.  

The hand that grabbed out in the darkness pressed over your mouth.

You jerk awake, stirring in fear under your thin quilt.

“Ssh,”the intruder coaxed. Your eyes darted frantically, straining to see past the darkness. Past the sparks of light the dance is the slender face of Vidia.

You sat up, your loose hair in a messy whirl over your shoulders.

“Why are you not in your own bed?” You tiredly implore. Your good friend’s face did not wrench in a frown nor a grin like you would have expected. It chilled your blood when you realized she bore not a shred of emotion in her eyes or her ebony face.

She held your hands close to her, her grip like that of ten men. You couldn’t start to understand the painful silence that knit between you two.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

Her lips parted with a small tremor in her chin. Her words wouldn’t ever quite leave your mind after that night, but you had no way of knowing that at that very moment.

“You’re going to leave me?” you whispered.

Vidia’s hands gripped your hands tightly. Her eyes that glistened under the soft torch light filled with a strange kind of sorrow, as if she were parting from her own child.

“I’ll come back for you. So soon. It’s a promise.”

And then she left your side, as quietly as she’d come.

Bursting awake felt like being overwhelmed by all your senses at once. The medicinal burn of alcohol flooded your nose, stinging your nostrils; the touch of the air burned your skin as if you were too close to the flame of a campfire. Your ears pulse and ache at the flat, shrieking bell that rings without stop.

The bitter taste of your dry tongue floods your mouth as you salivate under the pressure of your panicked awakening. As for your sight,you see nothing but the bright blur of colors, as though you’d squeezed your eyes shut to see distant galaxies much like a child would.

Part of you wanted to call out for help. Your chin quivered as your mouth contorted; the muscles of your jaw clenched as you were unable to form any words. It seemed that, for this time after waking, you could not remember how to speak. You made panicked sounds a bit like a baby would before you could quite recall your verbal skills.

Your pathetic sqwacking for help got answered by the strong, leather bound hands of a stranger squeezing your shoulders.

You couldn’t remember much from before your sleep but that you’d been in serious danger.

You called for your husband as you flailed against the gripping hands, whose strength matched ten hundred men. Amidst the panic, you feel the sorrow that blossomed through your chest like blood on cloth. Upon the thought of your husband, you remembered just what happened. The fuzzy memories fit together like pieces of broken glass. You couldn’t fit them together on your own. You had the hazy image of Din’s hands laid across yours, helping you to guide the glass whole.

“It’s alright,” the light voice commanded. You could vaguely remember hearing this voice once before.

You moan in despair as you recognize Paz, his warmth seeping through his leather gloves as he clutched your hand.

“Bring me to him,” you begged; you knew the answer would not be in your favor.

And yet, when Paz said the words, you could not help but break into a fissure of panic and tears. The aching in your limbs felt as it’d pour way into your bones. The crying only made the pain worse, as it wrung a tension headache across your forehead.

Din is gone. He is lost, nowhere to be found.

You were rescued after three months of being missing. However, as the covert did not have the exact tools to wake you immediately, you were kept asleep for four long months, feeling nothing, witnessing nothing; not even the replay of your memories. No dreams. Nothing to reflect. You could call it a wonderful nap, but it didn’t feel wonderful waking up.

You wished you could go back to that in between state, void of worry and grief until Din had returned.

Oh, how you are praying for his return.

Your vision failed to come back to you after some long minutes of Paz walking you through breathing exercises. The crying had exhausted you, as well as triggered a set of hiccups.

Paz and another Mandalorian, who did not speak, helped you move from the medical table onto a soft bed.

“How did you find me?” you ask, your voice hoarse. Paz is so close to your side, his presence never wavering. “Din had a tracking beacon on his ship. It led us to you.”

Yes, that’s right. He had insisted you wear a tracker.

“Where are we?” you ask.

“The hospital of the covert,” Paz responds faithfully. “You’ll see again, soon. It’ll take time to walk, and for the aching to go away. You’re in the process of recovering. You could think of it like an illness.”

“I do not care about my health,” you croaked. “I want my husband.”

How badly you want him. Burrowing your head in the crook of his warm neck would ease your body’s pain. The weight of his arm around you would ease your mind and heart.

Without him, you feel so helpless.

Guilt tries to pull you into the ground, as if your stomach held a heavy anchor of guilt and it plunged to the center of Nevarro.

How had you been alright, and not Din? How had you been separated?

Worse, had he been killed after you went into hibernation?

Tortured? Hurt? Even one hand laid on him sent you into a frenzy of anger.

Wanting to cry, your face pulled up so all the muscles hurt, but you could not summon the tears to fall.

Paz’s hand came to rest on top of yours. “It’ll be alright.”

You tried to pretend Paz’s hand was Din’s; but even the leather felt different. “How did you find me?” you asked.

“We found a tracking beacon on the Crest. We spent months looking for you, negotiating terms to get you back.” Paz’s hand squeezed yours, as if he meant to be comforting; it did not feel that way. “You have to tell us,” Paz’s voice urged. “Tell us who is responsible.”

Your blood boiled as you thought long and hard about it. You tried your best to recall the finer details. The green armor and the dark features of your captor is clear as day, but his name is impossible to remember. You felt nauseous as you thought. “I don’t know,” you whimpered out. “He was a Mandalorian...but he didn’t follow the rules. He was cruel. He threatened to kill us both. He was working with Lord Vader.”

“What was his name?” This came from Wendi, who had been soundless til now. You didn’t know she was here.

“I can’t remember,” you whispered. 

Wendi gritted a sound of anguish. “There are several Mandalorians in league with Vader,” she proclaimed. “There’s no way we could keep track of those, let alone those who have been in and out of Bespin in the past year. Isn’t there anything else?”

“No,” you muttered. “There’s absolutely nothing.”

One month later

The bed just didn’t feel right without Din by your side.

The endless stretch of soft blankets felt suffocating and cold, as if it were a contraption meant to confine you from anything comforting. There came a time when you couldn’t bring yourself to cry again, as you had done often since the awakening; this such time visited you in the middle of the night, nine months after you had been captured on Bespin. Din’s face is so clear in your mind that you find it impossible to believe such time has passed. Nine months; you could be nearing the end of a pregnancy by now; but instead you had spent these days as an oversized bookend, gathering dust in the back of a warehouse. You’d been left alone, left for practically death, embedded into a block of carbonite.

In nine months you could have achieved so much at Din’s side. Aside from a child, there could have been epic adventures; your first fights. The purchase of a real home somewhere out in the vast universe you’d been so naively eager to explore.

You haven’t a clue what happened to Din after you’d been frozen. A part of you wants to hope that he is alive and well and surviving somewhere in the world. But you know deep down that it’s more likely that he is dead. He might have died just moments after you were put into hibernation. Or perhaps he’d survived a while before meeting a lonely surmise.

You long to see his face. You’ve got no photos or drawings of him; only the rendering of his face in your mind may satisfy the craving for his dark features and brown, brown hair.

You move upright to feel for the knob of the bedside lantern. Your fingers touched the dial, then turned it.

The soft light rose like a beast coming to its hind legs, the flames expanding a long shadow across the wall. You moved off the mattress to the little wardrobe. You’d become seized with the urge to be close to Din, now more than ever. You sift through each folded garment. You feel so suffocated to be parted from your husband.

Your heart is thumping so hard that the pulse is in your ears and in your fingers.

Your fingers close around the fabric instantly when you feel it underneath all the unused clothes.

The jacket is in your hands. The worn, soft brown leather jacket. You could press it to your face and smell Din’s natural perfume. The faded smell of beskar and soap cleared your mind. A moment of tranquil exhaustion had washed over you. Sinking down to rest on your knees, you tucked the leather jacket close around you.

You couldn’t sleep for a long time; instead, you sat on the floor of your bedroom, cradling the leather jacket as if it actually was Din.

Hours seemed to pass. You couldn’t do much but stare at every grain in the walls.

The brown leather jacket, soft and worn, is just as comforting as it had been when Din first gave it to you. He’d cared enough to give this jacket to you eleven months ago. Like you did then, you pulled the leather over your shoulders. Pushing your arms into the sleeves, you furled closer into the cape of fabric. The smell of his soa lingered along the insides of the collar. It hurt to smell him so close to you, so close that you could trick your brain into thinking he’s right beside you.

The sensation had you wide awake. Sleep could not and would not come to grant you the peace of mind. Still dressed in your night clothes, but wrapped up in Din’s jacket, you padded across the little bedroom to the door.

You could see the chair which housed your helmet. Din’s helmet should be beside it. He should be laying in the bed, half awake, mumbling for you to come back and keep him warm.

The halls of the covert aren’t totally empty. Light lined the walls from the mounted torches. A few Mandalorians lingered around, sitting at the leisure tables and playing board games. Probably too anxious to sleep.

There isn’t any moment where the entire covert is asleep all at once. Paz and Ryder, as well as another handful of their friends, guard the tunnels during the night. No one could risk an ambush.

You wandered into the gathering hall. The main table of food is lit with candles, for those who want a midnight snack. No one else is there.

You swiped a piece of cheese out of the basket piled high. Sinking your teeth into the rich block, you took a seat. One hand hovered over a lit candle, your finger swiping across the tip of the flame daringly as you tested the limits.

You heard the clacking footsteps down the hall minutes before they even came into the gathering hall. You tilted your head back so see Paz, standing tall in his blue armor.

“What are you doing awake?” he asked in a voice so soft you almost couldn’t hear him.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you tell him. “Morning already?”

“Close to it,” Paz said. “The sun will be up in an hour.”

“I see.”

Another day had come and gone; you’re just as lonely as you were the day before, and the day before that. You lost your appetite, setting the cheese down in a cloth napkin to wrap it up and save for later.

“How are you?”

Paz’s voice came again as he watched you carefully from his place just paces away. You gritted your teeth at the question. You’ve come to hate these words.

“I’m the same as I have been all this time,” you tell him. “And I will be until my husband is back at my side.”

His armor shifted uncomfortably, the weight of his beskar moving from left hip to right. “Y/n…”

You grimmaced hearing his voice say your name. You’d heard this particular term, with that particular tone, more times than you could count.

“Please, don’t say anything,” you stopped him before he could continue. “I already know what you’re going to say. For once, I’d like to hear the truth. Don’t give me false hope. Just say what you’re thinking.”

He seemed stunned by your words. His hands hovered in the air awkwardly as he debated doing as you’d asked.

“Please?” you asked him. Your voice cracked so badly that it had alerted you to your own crying.

Paz looked down to his feet. His helmet must have weighed down on his neck.

“Spit it out,” you urged him. You couldn’t help but feel bitter and angry. Paz didn’t deserve the attitude you were giving him, but you were unable to stop it.

“It should have been me.” Paz’s words didn’t make sense at first. “It was meant to be me. And if it had been, none of this would have happened.”

“What do you mean?” you croaked out.

“You and I were meant to marry. Not Din. It was for Clan Viszla. But Din couldn’t stand the idea of anyone else being with you. He forced his way by your side. If I had married you instead, you wouldn’t have been hurt. I wouldn’t have let it happen.”

The world felt like it was colliding with another planet. Your stomach flipped around so violently you felt like you’d puke all over yourself. You hadn’t expected to hear such a confession. You’d rather hoped it would be something useful; something real, something motivational, like how you’d have to eventually move on from grief to go and seek vengeance for your missing husband. Instead, you’d gotten the worst piece of news possible.

You lurched to your feet. “How could you say this to me?” you shouted. “How could you tell me such a selfish, selfish truth? Do you have any idea how much I need you right now? You’re my only friend, and yet all you can do is hurt me.”

He took a heavy stride, his hands reaching out for you. You tried to perry out of his reach, but he grabbed you by the shoulders roughly.

“You asked for the truth. I only gave it. I’m not saying this to hurt you. I’m saying this because I feel guilty. Something inside of me is convinced that this is my fault. Do not ever think I resent Din. I’ve known him the greater length of my life. Since he was a child, and I an adolescent, we trained and learned together.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?” you sobbed out. “It doesn’t.”

“I know,” Paz murmured.

You clung against Paz’s armor, tucking your head against his chest plate as you cried against the beskar. It was not comfortable, but it felt wonderful. You’d almost forgotten how comforting physical contact can be.

This did not last long. As soon as you’d become fond of the feeling of being held, you were doused with extreme guilt. You wrenched out of Paz’s strong arms, your feet practically missing the floor.

“I have to sleep,” you sniffed, using the back of your hand to wipe your tears. “I have to think. I have to remember.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Paz assured you.

“It’s easy for you to say that when you aren’t missing your greatest love,” you chastised him, your voice still thick with crying. “I just want to be alone for a while.”

There wasn’t anything Paz could think of to say that could possibly stop you. He nodded, his head just barely inclining, as he stepped out of your path.

You hurried back into your bedroom, not stopping to look past anyone that lingered in the tunnels.

You shut your door and switched the locks into place. You shimmied out of your jacket, setting the leather piece on Din’s side of the bed.

It has been too long that you’ve spent sitting around and moping. Everyday that passes could cost Din his life; you’re determined to find him.

Even with this determination, you’re still at a roadblock. Would thinking harder and longer really solve much of anything?

Every thought and memory is a jumble of total nothingness. There’s not much you can make sense of.

Digging through the drawers in your room, you searched for something you could write with. A spare parchment journal and inkpen had been gathering dust for some time under the bed. The pages are empty and worn, as it had waited all its life to be used.

Your dominant hand began to ache as you held the pen to the parchment. You have no writing calluses, nor any proper amount of practice; even so, you’d have to struggle through it.

You started with writing the first details. Where you’d been going and why. You had to walk back through your memories several times to ensure you could remember every little detail. Cloud city. It had been a bounty on the run from his own debts. Din had mentioned how scarily empty the city’s landing pad was when you returned there to pick up the reward.

He was open to the idea that the city was operating under Imperialites, even if it wasn’t being advertised. But what next? You waited on the ship, soon following Din after he’d relayed his desperate message.

You remember running through the narrow halls, dodging stormtroopers on every side before you had reunited with him.

And then what?

You couldn’t recall. It’d been a grieving hour that resulted in the worst outcome. But that’s all you can remember.

You had your three pages of grueling details written in strained font. The blots of the ink stained through the pages where you rested your pen as you took a beat to remember.

You tossed the journal and pen aside. You’d given up––for now.

You’d have to sleep if you wanted to remember anything else useful enough for your search.

You curled into the bed, underneath the quilts. You tugged the leather jacket into your arms.

The gap in your brain is troubling. It’s one hour out of several you can’t remember; it’s ironic.

Burying your face against the fabric, you could practically feel every part of Din. His warmth; his rough hands. Even the stubble he had been letting grow in.

Life would continue to carry on without him. You know this. Now more than ever.

Of course you know that he could be dead. He could have died mere seconds after your freezing.

All you truly want is to put the gnawing mystery to rest. If he’s dead, you’d want to put his soul at peace and live the rest of your days in memoriam of your love.

A knock rapped at the door. You rubbed your pricking tears into the pillow, leaving behind stains like raindrops, before you slowly moved to answer.

Beyond the door was Ryder.

You couldn’t contain your surprise. You’d definitely not become close with Ryder after waking up from your sleep. At least that didn’t change.

“Good morning,” you hazard. His crimson helmet stared directly into your eyes. Robotically, he held out his arm. A folded parchment envelope was forced into your hands. “I will see you at dinner,” Ryder said sternly before he left.

You watched him jerk down the hallway.

“Curious,” you murmured. He became a blot of red in the distance. You shut your door behind you as you returned to lay in your bed.

A few words scrawled on the outside of the envelope in an elegant script. You took a moment to piece the words together, sounding them out audibly to yourself. “Mar...mare...marriage vows.”

You tore into the envelope.

Din Djarren’s name is scrawled at the top; his own script isn’t as elegant, but it is neat and legible. Each letter has a crooked slant, and his ‘I’s are done up with small horizontal slashes rather than dots.

My vow, the letter reads…

My vow is to never leave her.

To always satisfy her.

To never give her grief.

To keep her warm, or cool her down.

To tenderly nurse her to health during times of illness.

To devote my life to her safety.

To give her the strongest of children.

My eternal promise to Y/n Djarren is, and always will be, to stand loyally at her side. No time of darkness could waver my devotion to her. It has been my greatest pride so save her from Aniri and watch her turn into the strongest, bravest woman I’ve known.

My vow is to love her.

It took a long time for you to complete the page. When you did, you read and re-read it, over and over until you had the entire damn thing memorized.

You had always wondered what he wrote on that night. Where you had only written the simplest of vows, he had thought of every single possible promise he could make. It hurt you so terribly to read these vows, now, and know that he’s gone in the world.

You wiped your eyes with the inside of your wrist. After carefully folding up your letter, you slipped it into the pocket of the leather jacket. You returned to your rest, hiding beneath the blankets with your face burrowed into the leather.

You are comforted to know that Din had at least fulfilled all of his promises. He had died with you loving him and being as equally loved. If there’s anything you want to do, it would be to somehow let him know that you’re safe. You worry that he died feeling guilty and scared for your safety.

Drifting off into a soft lull of sleep, Din’s face danced on the backs of your eyelids.

Once tumbled into the dreamland, you found yourself on a cliff’s edge with Vidia.

She held your hand, still wearing her rags. Her face is void of makeup. Her nose and cheekbones glisten gold under the sunshine that warms her night skin. She’s beautiful as you remembered. It wasn’t a wonder why she’d been chosen to wear the makeup. Her eyes that twinkled with mischief turned to you. Her hair, loose curls in the wind, became brushed behind her ear when she asked you, “Why so sad?”

You cast her a glance. “I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever cared about,” you told her. “Both you, and my husband.”

Vidia Thorpe laughed. “You care for so much more than me and your old brute of a man. I wish I could meet him someday.”

“I wish you could, too,” you muttered. “You never will.”

“Why?” she asks. “Because I’m dead?” Her pink lips puckered as she laughed loudly, almost doubling over herself.

“Because he’s dead, too,” you say.

“Oh, Annie,” Vidia sighed. “Your husband isn’t dead. He’s just lost.”

“Then how can I find him?” you gasped out. “I can’t even remember.”

“Yes, you can,” Vidia promised. She smiled sweetly, as though she knows something you don’t. “I miss you very much,” she tells you. “You’ve truly grown into a dandy woman.”

“Dandy?” you repeated.

“Yes, Annie,” Vidia grinned. “Dandy.”

She extended her arms towards you, pulling you in for a hug. She pressed a kiss to the top of your hair before saying goodbye and walking towards the edge of the cliff.

You reached after her, your heart catching in your throat as you tried to warn her to watch out for the drop off.

She kept walking.

Walking across the clouds, into the sunshine.

The kiss she had placed over your head planted a seed of the memory. Its roots grow down into the center of your mind. The hazy images played in the sky; the green Mandalorian’s dark, handsome face is cast transparent beneath the sun’s rays. His voice speaks in the distance.

“Tell me your name,” the Mandalorian urges, “or I’ll kill your lover.”

“Vidia,” you spit out. “Vidia Thorpe.”

You felt guilty for using your late best friend’s name this way, but it was the only possible thing you could say to avoid inflicting harm onto Din.

“Intersting,” the Mandalorian mulls. “I’ve never heard of Clan Thorpe. You must be a foundling.”

You couldn’t calculate what to say to that. Recalling every single rule and tradition you’d been taught, you did your very best to withstand the Mandalorian’s intterogation.

“Who took you in?”

“Shut up,” Din shouted.

“I asked you a question, Vidia,” the Mandalorian repeated. “Which clan rescued you? Can’t you see that I mean you no harm? We both have sworn the same creed, as you can clearly see. We share the same armor. I guess I’ve been a bit rude, however. My apologies. I am Boba Fett, the first and only heir of Jango. I am pleased to make your aqquaintence.”

[merrycrespo]

Flora hates u hope u know that she's just being nice and you're a fucking transphobe and are annoying af just leave the druckkies alone we all hate you but ig you already know that luv

Quit acting like you're in middle school you fucking weirdos jfc. And saying I'm a transphobe for saying something I literally never said (hi I said the transphobic blog was disgusting and davenzi should always be included in gifsets learn how to read) is demeaning to an entire group of people. Quit throwing around words while a community (including my friends) are hurt by ACTUAL transphobes. It ain't me luv, it ain't me. Know me for one second and you'll know that really fucking quick. Learn your facts before coming into my inbox. And you'll see me plenty of times in the druck tag so get used to it or leave tumblr. It's a fucking show and I can watch it. Quit gatekeeping. If I was transphobic would I actually watch druck? Hmmmmm......what a concept. And I try to be nice around here but for you I'll make a quick exception. Go fuck yourself you tiny piece of shit who doesn't even deserve my words or attention. Get a fucking life. Go find someone else to bully so you can feel like a big tough guy when in reality you're just a little bitch who feels the need to send hate to a stranger. Get fucked

To my trans followers I'm sure you know already since none of you have left but I respect you and love you even more ❤️

[hwanhee]

omg honestly the last 48 hours have been a really rough month for me jfc the amount of shit my notifs and inbox have seen

I am so sorry 😭😭😭 if you people don't leave bee alone and dont stop leaching your twt poison into our water supply I'm gonna get violent

[asknightqueendany]

Jon is new to this thinking thing. I am a firm believer in Pol!Jon and that it was not something he planned going into DS. Circumstances forced him into it. He's making it up as he goes along. Why is it so hard to understand that in doing so he hasn't thought beyond the initial threat, the WW? No exit strategy is actually part of some theories. It's certainly not proof that this theory falls apart. Just because he SHOULD have thought of one doesn't mean he does.

JFC. You filled up my notifications and now you’re spamming my inbox when I’ve already answered this HERE.

1) Jon had no reason to feel “forced”.

2) The thoughts you believe him having for feeling “forced” would also make him not want to piss Dany off because as there’s no exit strategy.

3) I already told you HERE that just because you say Jon doesn’t need an exit, doesn’t make it a valid argument. So stop saying it like it proves your point. It doesn’t.

Let me give you an example of this argument in neutral, non-GOT terms:

A man’s family is starving. He has no money. The situation is so dire that if he doesn’t get food by tomorrow, he believes his family will die (though he’s no doctor and doesn’t know how long his family can actually last without food, he’s just guesstimating). His family is weak. He’s the only one strong enough to save them. He decides to rob a bank to get money to buy food.

Your argument translated into this context is, “well, the family NEEDS the money to buy food, it’s a dire situation, of course the man doesn’t have time to think about the consequences of robbing a bank!

However, the man knows the consequences of robbing a bank. Everyone knows that if you get caught robbing a bank, you get thrown in jail, if not gunned down if you’re wielding a weapon also. You don’t need to think about the consequences of getting caught robbing a bank to figure out what they might be. YOU JUST KNOW. It’s basically fact.

Also, if the man has time to make this elaborate plan of robbing a bank, he sure as hell had time to think about other possibilities as well, ones that wouldn’t get him put in jail and take away the only hope his family has.

To argue the man doesn’t have time to think about consequences we all know as common knowledge and to say the man had no other options is utter nonsense.

Jon is the man with the starving family, starvation being the Night King and Army of the Dead, the money to buy the food being Dany’s armies and dragons, and the plan to rob a bank to get money is Jon politically and sexually manipulating Dany to get her resources. And the very reasons Jon would think to rob the bank (he’s the only one in his family strong enough, his family will die otherwise) - he believes if he doesn’t have extra “insurance” Dany might leave, she might take out her anger on the Northerners - are the very reasons he shouldn’t rob the bank/betray Dany (he knows he’ll go to jail when his family really needs him) - Daenerys will extract her revenge on him if he betrays her.

THIS is why Political Jon without an exit strategy falls apart.

As I said in my reblog, linked above:

Again, they’re on the boat, they’ve got the wight, Cersei has already granted them an audience to show it to her, with the exception of Viserion’s death, everything is going according to the plan they put in place on Dragonstone in 7x05. So why would Jon suddenly feel trapped if everything is going according to plan AND now Daenerys has reiterated that she wants to help??

Or if he was feeling “trapped” and desperate before the wight hunt, why bend the knee in this specific moment? Why not wait until Cersei potentially failed to agree to a truce? Or if Dany decided later on she didn’t want to march north? Or once Cersei’s plot has been revealed? Or before the wight hunt?

There are a dozen moments when it would have been MORE appropriate for Jon to bend the knee to Dany, more opportune moments for him.

Again, we all know what happens when you get caught robbing a bank. Jon knows what happens to those who take up arms against Daenerys or betray her. He doesn’t need to consider this. He already knows. He knows the endgame of what will happen when his alleged plot is discovered. Yet he did it anyway at a moment when it was unnecessary.

Either Jon has a death wish for him and his people, or he fully intends to keep his word to Dany and went to her bed of his own free will uninfluenced by politics and military strategy.

Now please, if all you’ve got is “Jon doesn’t need to think about an exit,” then leave me alone because it’s not a valid argument. You’re the one who’s avoiding the original argument by saying “Well Jon doesn’t need to think about it” and not even addressing HOW Political Jon falls apart once we get to how it will end - the “exit strategy.”

[veliseraptor]

(1/?) i'm slowly making my way through your fics and i gotta tell u that u are definitely one of the Best writers i've ever read. i could really say a lot about what i love and find refreshing about your writing style, but i'll leave those compliments for other time. right now i'd like u to know that rtc is MARVELOUS girl, and listen i'm no stoki shipper but the way u write them is so on point jfc. I also enjoy your take on their sex life

particularly the fact that their tastes (so to speak) don't align entirely, it's something that i've never seen in fanfic, or at least the first time i see it in an endgame ship, since it is sometimes used as an excuse to separate one ship in favor of other and such, but the compromise between steve and loki is AMAZING. Magnificent smut, btw.

[quiet screaming in the distance]

I mean my first comment is “[chinhands] could you be a stoki shipper” but I’ll, uh, leave that one alone.

thank you so much! I’m so glad you’re enjoying that series - it’s very much My Baby and I’m so pleased every time someone mentions it (and even more so when the pairing isn’t one they were looking for!). 

I have...a lot of fun writing about kink negotiation and people having to work out things in the ways they don’t perfectly mesh together, is a thing I’ve discovered, and doing that with Steve and Loki (who have very different approaches to sex as a whole) has been a lot of fun. 

also the smut. also that’s a lot of fun. 

(anyway thank you so much I’m sorry this took me so long to reply to, I’ve been hella neglecting my inbox this week)

[gothhabiba]

you're just blindly defending aphroditeinfurs bc they're your friend. it's like ok to recognize that they made a pretty poorly worded post and just stop talking about it jfc

you guys are the insufferable nerds who keep bringing this into my inbox just because you aren’t engaging with Rav’s excellent post in good faith. post on your own blog about it and leave me alone and then we won’t have this problem

[ignaciaslight]

all of them for all your muses

fck u anna. at least i have a manageable amount of characters. #roASTED #jk #ily

Put a tarot card in my inbox and I’ll answer the question! // NOT ACCEPTING. (blame anna for that. jk i’ll probably answer some more of these)

bc u were a fcker i’m putting my answers under read more for the sake of people’s dashes. 

The Fool: What is the stupidest thing your muse has ever done?

Dany: Oh boy, the stupidest thing? Wow, that’s a lot to choose from for her. But the stupidest has gotta be when she was five and she superglued her hands together so she could have the greatest karate chop known to man. Now that was an interesting hospital visit. 

Sabina: Don’t know if this counts as stupid, but when she had kids way back when, she’d go through a list of names before she actually yelled at the right child. (She had four kids). 

Alexnder: Kissing a telephone pole in the winter because his older sister dared him to. She said if he did it, he’d get to kiss her friend who he had a crush on at the time. 

Dean: He is also a muse that classifies as doing a bunch of stupid shit. The stupidiest thing would be stealing a book from another dragon in the 50s. Never steal from a dragon unless you want to be dead. And yes, this was a dragon he slept with. No, he didn’t get a book, but he got stitches. 

The Empress: What would your muse name their children?

Dany: Well, as you know with being thany trash, you already know the names. But I’ll throw some out there anyways: Beatrice, Elanor, Rosie, Henry, Alexander (lmao yeah), Thomas, Benjamin, and Charlie. 

Sabina: She had four children and here are their names: Katrina, Phillip, Simon, and Rhoslyn

Alexander: Ella, Jackson, and Nora.

Dean: Never wants kids, but he had a little girl he never met and her name was Robin. 

fuck after doing two of these i’m already done jfc why did i take up this challenge to do all of them? Judgement: Would your muse ever go back to their most recent ex-lover?

Dany: FUCK NO (her ex-lover would be Dean). She has a Teddy, she is perfectly fine with that old Welsh plant nerd. 

Sabina: She’s had lots of “lovers”, I use that term loosely. She’d rather use the term companion, but she’s not activiely looking for one. To be honest, if her husband was alive, still, she’d want to be with him. (but yes she is very happy with Raphael)

Alexander: No

Dean: Maybe (it was Dany and yes he still loves her). NO

The World: What has been your muse’s greatest success?

Dany: Tbh, actually finding someone who loves her completly. (i’m a sAP OKAY AND SHE IS TOO)

Sabina:Well, she’s a CEO, so. 

Alexander: He read 40 books in one summer when he was twelve. 

Dean: He won a poker match based all on bluffs. 

The Sun: What was the happiest moment of your muse’s life?

Dany: The happiest moment of Dany’s life probably would be the moment when she was at her grandparents’ for the weekend back when she was nine. Her grandfather played old jazz, her grandmother helped Dany bake, and her grandfather started a flour war. The not fun part of that memory was having to clean the kitchen—they all did it, though. Even then, I guess, it was fun for Dany. 

Sabina: When she first held her first born baby, along with holding her children for the first time in general. 

Alexander: When he won a spar against his siblings back when they trained together. 

Dean: V-E Day. 

Wheel of Fortune: Does your muse believe in luck?

Dany: Yes, but she’s always shit out of luck. 

Sabina: No

Alexander: Yes. 

Dean: No

The Hierophant: What is one rule or law your muse would never break?

Dany: this is a toughy. Probably something to do with vandalism with CERTAIN (American) national monuments. Not all of them, but certain ones. 

Sabina: Well, now in modern times, theft. 

Alexander: Talking in libraries. 

Dean: Oddly enough, something to do with jaywalking

Strength: Name a time when your muse had to be strong in the face of danger or trouble.

Dany: Her whole life, basically. 

Sabina: When she lived on the streets with her sister. 

Alexander: He’s a hunter. So…

Dean: He was in WW2

The Star: If your muse had one wish, what would it be?

Dany: It’s moribid, but for her mother to have died during childbirth. She feels, that if her mom had died during childbirth, she wouldn’t’ve had to go through foster care and her father wouldn’t be in jail. Her mom basically was the root cause of her childhood trauma. 

Sabina: for her family to still be alive. 

Alexander: To not be a hunter anymore.

Dean: To know his daughter. 

The Magician: What would your muse draw if given paper and markers?

Dany: Well, in canon, she can’t draw for shit. In some AU”s she can draw, but for her main verse? yeah stick figures. Something to do with Captain America, probably. 

Sabina: Lmao Raphael, probably, when he wasn’t looking. Joking with that (mostly). She prob would draw a still life of water lilies, i think. 

Alexander: Doesn’t like to draw. 

Dean: A stupid looking squirrel reading a book because he’s “nuts for knowledge.” bye. 

The Emperor: Name a time your muse has broken the rules.

Dany: Lmao. Uh. All the time. 

Sabina: Back in the good ol’ days, she stole food for her and her sister. Also, she’s old as fuck. I don’t have the time to go through all the times she broke the rules. 

Alexander: He has to break and enter into places as a hunter. 

Dean: He gambles illegally and does illegal shit all the time. 

FUCK THERE ARE SO MANY TO ANSWER how am i nOT DONE. 

Death: If your muse had to change something about themselves, what would they change?

Dany: Her past.  also to not be allergic to cats. 

Sabina: She’d like to be mortal. 

Alexander: His insomnia. 

Dean: His cowardance (yep. he’s a coward in the context of not seeing his daughter). 

The Chariot: If your muse ruled the world, what would they change first?

Dany: Make foster care a better system.

Sabina: Access to health care and food to be more readily available.

Alexander: Doesn’t want to rule the world. 

Dean: FIND THE LIBRARY OF ALEXANDRIA. 

The High Priestess: What is the smartest thing your muse has ever done?

Dany: She doesn’t do many smart things.  BUT to be sappy here—Probably letting Teddy in her life bc he’s helped her become a better person. 

Sabina: Helping those in need and also, preserving artifacts and art. 

Alexander: Not pissing off his sister when she was pregnant when he visited her and his brother inlaw. 

Dean: Leaving his longtime girfriend and daughter behind. He wouldn’t’ve been good for them in the 60s. 

Temperance: Would your muse remain calm despite the worst circumstances?

Dany: Depends on the circumstance. 

Sabina: Yes. 

Alexander: No. 

Dean: No. 

The Lovers: At what age did your muse first fall in love?

Dany: When she was seventeen, living on the streets. It was with a twenty-year-old woman who kept her under her wing when Dany pissed off the wrong person. She struggled with drug addiction, though, and Dany tried her best to care for her. (but if we want to actually go into how dragons actually love someone, it would be when she met teddy llmao so that would be when she was 24)

Sabina (awh shit i have to do math for this old fuck): When she was 37 lmao. She never really felt romantic love until she met her husband. Dragons don’t really feel that intense love all the time, it usually happens once. Idk if that makes sense. I’m going crazy answering all these. 

Alexander: When he was twenty three. 

Dean: fuck i have to do math for him too  dslfjk I don’t think he’s really fallen in love with someone. Then again that might just be me going crazy answring all these. 

The Hermit: If your muse were trapped alone on an island, name three things they’d have to have..

Dany: Well, she’d hate everything. She hates water. So tbh. Yeah. I can’t think of anything bc she’s too freaked out in my mind to even come up with anything. Yeah. Hahaha yeah. She’d rather die than get trapped on a damn island surrounded by water. 

Sabina: Sketchbook, pencils, and a compass. 

Alexander: A knife, water purifier, and probably a book of some kind. 

Dean: A pilot, a working airplane, and fuel for an airplane. There’s no way he’s getting stuck on an island. 

The Moon: Has your muse ever had something unexplained happen to them? If so, what?

are you really going to make me answer this?

Dany: Um. Well. Learning she was a dragon was one of them. 

Sabina: No

Alexander: Woke up on the other side of a state once, didn’t know how he got there. 

Dean: No

Justice: What’s something your muse has been dying to admit or confess?

Dany: She loves pop music. So much pop music. 

Sabina: Her favorite snack is one of those chocolate ice cream pops thing. 

Alexander: Hates the color fushia. 

Dean: Still loves likes hates Dany. 

The Hanged Man: Name a bad habit your muse can’t give up.

Dany: Burning things. 

Sabina: Peeling off a new manicure. 

Alexander: Biting his nails. 

Dean: Gambling. 

The Devil: What was the worst relationship your muse has ever had?

Dany: With Dean. 

Sabina: Probably with some painter in Italy during the Renaissance. He snored. Really loudly.

Alexander: He’s never really been one for relationships. He’s more so a one night stand kinda guy. 

Dean: With Dany. 

The Tower: What event would trigger your muse’s breaking point?

Dany: Her fear of water

Sabina: A reminder that she can’t save everyone. 

Alexander: Having to physically fight his family to get out of the hunting life.  

Dean: Meeting his daugher. 

[moonlight-at-dawn]

Wait, people are sending the Japanese girl from that thread hate? Why? Like, yeah, I blocked everyone from that thread cause I don’t want my inbox getting invaded and I don’t know who’s who, but jfc, why are people sending any of them hate? And especially the one who just said “don’t use my culture.”

SENDING HATE IS BAD, GUYS, WHY DO I HAVE TO SAY THIS

And she wasn’t even that bad. Like, yes I felt like she completely missed the point the person was trying to make, but that’s not some grievous error.

Leave her alone, ffs. And if you’re among those doing it and you follow me, then unfollow me. I’m not okay with that. Ever.

And I’m especially not down with people asking for minority credentials. What the actual fuck. Stop.

[dansarya]

Homophobia in the trans community is unacceptable. Our sexual orientation is based on biological sex, not pronouns. If you would force members of the opposite sex on homosexuals, you are a homophobe. Sit down, shut the fuck up, leave lesbians alone.

omg toppdyke is still harassing me can terfs stop flooding my inbox with their transphobia jfc go away and get a life

[flyawayrachel]

Nothing against Mike Faist, but he really doesn't deserve that nomination. He simply isn't up to par with the others.

*Will Roland voice* WHY ARE.YOU TALKING TO ME ABOUT THIS? But seriously, why are you coming to me about this? I don't want your nonsensical nonsense in my inbox. Leave the boy alone. He's done nothing but work hard for this show and he is VERY MUCH up to par with the others. He's extremely talented and does a damn fine job playing Connor Murphy. But even I'll admit that he is the underdog in the category. The others have much larger roles in their shows and some have quite a bit more experience, but that doesn't mean he's not worth a nomination. Seriously stop being so butthurt about this. It's not like the Tonys decide who lives and who dies. JFC