#what is their ship tag?? I will never know

[sadesluvr]

TEETH.

Sergei Kravinoff might be a villian, and you a hero; but at the end of the day you're both animals.

A/N: First fic in a while so my bad if it sucks. You already know this movie was basically ass but we only watched it for ATJ anyway - I'm changing some of Kraven's character so he's similar to the comics/Spider-Man 2 game, so be sure to read the tags bc he’s a lil dark…

Word count: 2.3K

Tags: SMUT / DUB-CON / Spiderwoman! Reader / Breeding / Unprotected + rough sex

Kraven feared nothing. 

It simply wasn’t in his blood; not his staunchly machismo upbringing, nor in his DNA, quite literally having that of a lion. Fear made one weak. Fear made you less of a man. Fear was what killed his mother. 

If anything, fear was just another animal; ready to be captured, killed and conquered, ultimately destined to be draped across his chiselled body or mounted on a wall.  

You were simply no different. 

He never really understood why people were afraid of spiders, but he knew that they were a nuisance, having haunted him since he was a boy. Spiders weren’t savages like lions or bears, but they were sneaky; crawling around in the dark and waiting to strike, with a face so obscured that you’d never really know what you were looking at...what they were thinking.  

But now, with your mask off, he could see you clearly. Fear; clouding your eyes and consuming your lungs as you heaved, choking on the intensity of the emotion itself as your pupils darted between the beige, bloodied teeth on his necklace and a crossbow pointed right at your heart. 

“So, you’re the insect causing me all this trouble?” the man mused; legs crossed upon a desk as he eyed you. “I should���ve known.” 

“Should’ve known what? You know nothing about me.”  

“You’re a girl.” 

“Sexist, much.” 

He chuckled. 

“Far from it. My father, however, was quite the traditionalist. He would’ve done much worse by now.” 

There was a heavy silence as you swiped at your bottom lip. Much to your dismay, blood had begun to dry, and you were left with a salty, scratchy throat. Liquid, some of any kind, would’ve been appreciated, but you knew all too well that Kraven wasn’t one for showing mercy. Like all the villains you’d encountered, you’d had a push-pull relationship with the Hunter since the very beginning. He created a plan; you foiled it, sometimes you’d get your ass beat but the ending was almost always the same – with you safe from harm's way, and a bloodthirsty ego chipped away, but momentarily put to rest. 

On this occasion you’d slipped up, your Spidey-senses failing you and placing you right into harm's way, shipped into the back of a van and somehow escorted to a somewhat uncharacteristically lavish mansion.  

You'd always found Kraven to be a man of contradictions; whether he realised it or not. He was the best and worst of both worlds, a hunter with all the grit of someone who’d been fighting their entire life as a poverty-stricken rogue, and yet you’d come to learn that he was a Russian aristocrat, hence his rather extensive knowledge and unrelenting desire for control. Still, nothing took away from the fact that he was a brute, not even his strikingly good looks. 

“Just shoot me and be over it,” You continued, watching as he lowered his feet from atop the desk and strolled over to you.  “You didn’t need to drag me all the way here.” 

He looked even bigger than usual, but perhaps it was because you were perched uncomfortably on a chair, arms bound behind you as you craned your neck to look up at him. Your mind couldn’t - no, didn’t - want to fathom what he was thinking of you from this angle. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I care nothing about your secret. I just wanted to look you in the eye.” He mused, rummaging through his back pockets. Your breath hitched in your throat as he slid a knife from its sheath, finely carved and sharpened and lowered it to his side before pacing around you, stopping as his firm torso pressed up against the tip of your neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, you braced for your neck to be split open, only to be released from your bounds.  

Instinctively, you went to shoot some webs, hoping you could at least catapult yourself across the room, but he tightly grasped your wrists, steadying your arms in place.  

“I wouldn’t try anything if I were you,” he sneered. “These are antiques.” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Fuck you.” 

“Get up,” he announced suddenly, almost dragging you to your feet. Hesitantly, you began to shuffle out of the room, overwhelmed by the seemingly endless walls and corridors, all framed in ivory and the finest mahogany. “Keep walking until I tell you to stop.” 

You continued down the hall, opting for a straight line. It seemed to be the correct way as once you passed into the threshold of a room that had a velvet chaise lounges and a dresser, he dropped his hands from their grip on your own, closing the door behind you. Oddly enough, you never heard the click of a latch. 

Without a word, he walked past you to open the drawer, rummaging through the contents. It utterly baffled you why you didn’t feel the urge to protest, or even fight. The entire ordeal was feeling more like a glorified house tour with a side of intimidation rather than a future crime scene. 

Was it because he was handsome? Wild? Filthy rich? Whatever happened to your values? Perhaps Jameson was right.  

Your thoughts were interrupted by the man placing something in the desk, curling his finger to beckon you towards him.  

“See this? This is what keeps me going,”he said, rolling a vial of florescent liquid in his fingertips.  “You and I are more alike than you think.” 

You scoffed, trying to ignore how close he was to you. He had an earthly musk that invaded your senses, sending tingles down your spine… and to your core. 

“I don’t need a drug to do what I do.” 

“Never mind the drug. It’s our blood that makes us strong.” 

You cocked a brow and he ignored your confused look. 

“You know, I’ve always hated spiders…” he began, rubbing his beard in contemplation.  “Too itchy; unpredictable. You never really know where they’re going to show up. If I ever saw one, I used to pop them like a zit.” 

There was a clear disgust in his words and vacant look in his eye that sunk you into a pit of fear for perhaps the first time since regaining your consciousness. You knew that it was just about you (surely), but perhaps a weird extension of your being; something bigger, far more innate than a girl in a spandex spider suit. 

“But then I realised that for their size, they’re deadly. Powerful, even. Recently I’ve wondered what it would look like if I harnessed it myself.” 

You swallowed, suddenly conscious of your dry throat once more. 

“A drop of blood usually does the trick.” 

He tutted. Perhaps you were being too fickle. 

“No, любимец [darling], not that way. I crave something more.” 

Your eyes darted to the lounge. Since when did Spider-Woman lack composure? Kraven’s impenetrable gaze followed your own, and he chuckled knowingly. 

“With your arachnid abilities and my strength, we could create something truly unique. Nature has its ways, you know.” 

“You’re sick,” you replied, your chin held high but your bottom lip wobbled. “I’ll never join you. What you do is immoral.” 

Kraven furrowed his brows. 

“You killed a man, and you talk about morality?” 

“He was a bad man.” 

“He was my brother.” 

The word humanised him a bit. The Chameleon wasn’t your most imposing foe, but he was still a challenge you’d been rather glad to conquer. It was all too often that you’d fallen into the trap of thinking that the world was black and white; good and bad, when occasionally it was grey. Kraven was allowed to grieve his brother, but at the end of the day they were both bad guys. 

Then why did he turn you on so much? 

“You don’t have to resist,” the man grinned, strolling towards you. He stopped, glancing down and reaching a hand up to cup the sides of your face, caressing your cheekbones and sides of your lip with his thumb, threatening to penetrate your mouth. “I’ve never been this close to you before…I can smell you.” 

You were both superhuman, but he had the thirst of a predator. Quite literally. Breath hitched in your throat as he angled his lips to your ear, whispering a few fatal words. 

“Give in, маленький паучок [little spider]. Your body yearns for me.” 

One large hand was wrapped around your neck as he kissed you, his wild beard scratching against your face as his other hand snaked down your suit, down to between your thighs. The latex did nothing to offer you safety, his callouses prodding at your wet slit and beginning to rub in small circles, oh-so internationally slow, making sure he pressed against the hood of your clit. 

He had you as soon as a small moan escaped your lips. It’d been a while since you’d been touched, let a alone by someone who was as well-travelled as The Hunter himself, and every kiss, nibble and squeeze was sending you into a deeper spiral of lust and guilt that you could barely fathom that you’d already made your way to the lounge. 

You pulled away as your calves collided with the frame, lips wet and parted as you glanced up at him – wholly helplessly. His hand remained firm on your face, angling his head as he smirked at your shielded demeanour, a far cry from the flashy superhero you’d been but an hour ago.  

“Kra—“ 

“Don’t call me that,” he said through gritted teeth. “Call me Sergei. I need to hear you say it.” 

The name rolled from your lips as a cry as he bunched the sides of your suit in his hands and tearing it apart, exposing your bare pussy and ass, with strands of fabric shaping your legs like a makeshift garter. He grinned, large hands frantically groping at your thighs and ass, spreading your cheeks apart and exposing your hot core to the cool air. 

“прекрасный.” [Gorgeous] he moaned, swatting at your ass before dipping his fingers inside you, rubbing your folds between his fingers as you coated him in your juices. Grasping your hands around his thick neck, you clung onto what you could as he explored your body, lowering you down onto the smooth velvet. 

It wasn’t long before he straddled you, holding your body down with his pelvis as he removed his jacket, giving you an eyeful of his crafted torso. Unsurprisingly, he had the body of a God, with a prominent v-line and happy trail pointing down to between his legs. Even through his heavy trousers you could make out his bulge, mounded and ready for you. 

You gasped in anticipation, watching as the man withdrew his cock from his briefs; red and girthy, with precum spilling from his tip. Skilfully, he spread your thighs, making sure they were safely by your sides (he’d seen how flexible you were, your ankles touching your ears was nothing) and lifting your lower back slightly off the cushions, pushing into you with a deep sigh. 

At first, his intrusion was a dull ache, but as he began to move his hips against your own you felt utterly fulfilled, moaning and writhing as he wasted no time in daggering your wanting pussy, making sure you felt every inch.  

“Sergei...” you cried, eyes fluttering shut as you flung your head back in pleasure. “Please...” 

“Say it again.” 

Words evaded you. 

The man grinned, flashing his canines as he tightened his grip, compelling him to fuck you harder. The whole ordeal was obscene; New York’s most treasured hero being bent into submission by the villain of the week, a scene so heinous that it was all the more endearing, and with every thrust you knew you wanted him more. Sergei didn’t care whether his combat boots scuffed the fine upholstery, or if his grip on your waist would leave a few bruises – he just wanted to own you. 

He huffed as his heavy balls slammed repeatedly against your crack, beginning to bottom out in you with every hit, so much so that it looked like you were conjoined.

Even through the strain in your legs you could tell you were close, knots in your stomach slowly beginning to unravel as your walls clenched around him, earning a delighted rumble from deep within his chest. 

You knew that he wasn’t one for talk, but you would’ve appreciated the warning that he was about to come. Every guy you’d been with tended to get sloppier, but he grew stronger, the literal animal in him taking over as he began to ramble and curse through gritted teeth in Russian.  

Sergei threw his head back as he held you down, hands pawing your breasts and strands of hair sprawled in a beautiful mess across his face as he came, ropes of hot white cum spilling into your pussy just as you dressed his cock in a silky sheen. Your chests heaved as you desperately tried to come down from your high, glancing down at your messy nether regions as his seed began to seep out of you.  

There was no going back. Nine months began now. 

Would it really be all that bad? 

It all went back to fear, really. In the back of his mind the thought of a spider still troubled Sergei, but at least he’d conquered it. Even if it was temporary. 

FIN. 

[wastemee]

i think that i would die

jimmy grant (?) + fem reader

content warning . noncon/dubcon , toxic relationship , painal , barely legal reader

note: very unedited!!!! I’m lazy this is bad

When your eighteenth birthday has finally come , you had never been happier. You’re an adult (in the eyes of the law , at least)! Late night clubbing and cigarettes , here you come. Although you don’t have much friends , at least you have your trusty ID on you and your car (which is really your parents). College is definitely an option , your parents would provide you the money if you asked. But for now , you’re just working at some job that’s mundane and boring. The only reason you go is because your parents have connections , got you a job so you can buy all the stuff you could ever want. Given it’s in your paycheck budget.

Nothing or anybody interesting happened to catch your eye during your shift , until a few months ago. Your now boyfriend , Jimmy. He’s tall , handsome , and although he’s a bit dark , he’s yours. If your wish was to get an extremely morally gray boyfriend who definitely has personal issues , you won the lottery.

Your family doesn’t approve , but who would? He has very.. “controversial” opinions and strange comments on modern things that he claimed , “I didn’t have in my day”. His thoughts on feminism are bleh. Whenever you ask for him to elaborate , his response is always something like , “This word has gone to shit” or “Women think they have so much power”. He has very traditional beliefs about women , he still thinks that the only place women are needed is the kitchen and on their male partners dick. And honestly thinks you’re an idiot for still dating him.

Dating is a funny word to him. He wouldn’t consider your relationship ‘dating’ , he just likes you because you’re young , conventionally attractive , and a little bit naive. If he told you the roof said gullible on it , you’d look up because you trust him that much. Fresh meat. That’s what you are. You’re barely legal , what more is there to like?

He has you tag along with him to get togethers with his former coworkers , people he was working with in space! Amazing. He went from working in space to fucking and dumping girls from eighteen to twenty. When he first told you about his former job , you couldn’t believe him. He’s a sleaze , a sleazy astronaut.

Curly , his best friend , is chatting it up with him in his dirty apartment. Stubble frames his nice skin , lips curled up into a grin. He’s cute. But in a dog kind of way , not like a grown man. He has nice , blonde hair and his eyes are full of promise and kindness , unlike his best friend. Anya’s a young lady with sad looking eyes and a shaggy haircut , who for some reason , seems a bit uncomfortable with Jimmy. She doesn’t say much , Jimmy told you that. He also said she was extremely incompetent and utterly incapable of doing anything on the ship , but he says that about a lot of people. Then there’s Daisuke , who is just a ball of joy. Jimmy seems irritated by his painfully optimistic behavior whenever he interjects in conversation or talks.

Any idiot knows that if someone talks to you about another , then obviously they’ll talk about you as well. Unfortunately , you don’t. Nothing could’ve prepared you for all the things you found out Jimmy says about you when snooping through his phone , and his little friend doesn’t even say anything. Usually if someone were to call their girlfriend an idiot , or ‘meat’ , the average person would feel disturbed. But Curly shrugs it off with no reprimands for your boyfriend’s icky comments.

And of course , when Jimmy found out about your sneaky little habit , he was pissed for sure. A quick slap to your face , or shoving his dick down your throat when you definitely don’t want it , obviously does nothing for your behavior. Instead of forcing your head down on him , maybe fucking you so hard you feel like your guts will fall out could fix your behavioral issues.

He’s really pushing the limits of his flimsy bed frame with the way he thrusts into your ass , one hand on the headboard and the other gripping your already bruised hips. Pained moans slip out of your throat and into his hot room’s space , stubby nails scratching against the cheap wood. “Jim— Jimmy—“ you barely manage to gasp , tears pricking at your eyes and your stomach churning from both the pain and the unfamiliar feeling of him tearing into your body. He ignores your pleas , only pressing your face into the headboard harshly.

He groans under his breath , gritting his teeth and burying himself into you , chest pressed against your back like he’s trying to merge your sweaty bodies together. All he can think about is the way you clench around him and squirm like a wounded animal , and it’s the only thing keeping him going. The thought of molding you into what he wants and dumping you on the side of the street back at your house after he loses all interest in you makes his head spin and his dick hard.

“Please,” you whimper , pained tears rolling down your face and soaking into his dirty sheets. Your teary eyes squeeze shut , because if you look at him , you might just hurl all over yourself *and* the pillows. His hand moves from your hip and to your warm face , nails digging into your puffy cheeks and forcing your face to his. He doesn’t even need you to open your eyes and see his face when he’s fucking you like an animal , rough and hard.

“It’ll be over,” Jimmy mutters , hot breath making contact with your face and making your nose scrunch up instinctively. Cigarettes and booze , it sickens you. “ ‘cause you’ll shut up and take it , right? Let me cum in you without a word?” His words are harsh and teasing in a way. Teasing you because he knows you’ll never say no , teasing you because no matter what your friends and family say , you’ll let him do whatever he wishes.

Callously hands drift down to your tight throat , squeezing lightly. Not enough to kill you , but enough to make you feel light headed and sick to your stomach. Your hand overlaps his , urging him to take his rough hand from your windpipe. Listening to you is the last thing he’ll ever do.

All of this banging you against was practically foreplay , and his orgasm is the main event of his rape-y affection. He moans through his gritted teeth , hips meeting yours and spewing his seed into you , not bothering to pull out or check up on you with a simple , “You okay?”.

Just because you’re used to it , doesn’t mean you like. It definitely doesn’t mean that.

Jimmy’s hands slowly fall from your neck , lips pressed against your temple and his lips curled up into a cruel smirk. “Shit,” he murmurs into your ear , knocking against your head with his fist. “Think I’ve emptied you all of you’ve got. Don’t think there’s anything in here”. He chuckles , voice just as condescending as ever. You’re starting to think he’s right. Maybe there isn’t anything in your head , not anymore , you wouldn’t doubt it. From hopeful and optimistic , to drained all in the span of a few weeks.

You’ve made your bed , and now you must lie in it. For however long Jimmy deems fit.

[chimggukchim]

https://www.tumblr.com/chimggukchim/770049627903901696/but-it-will-not-and-cannot-be-what-it-was-before?source=share

First thing first i saw another anon say this anon is a tkkr who's sneaking in jkk space when i can very well tell anon is just a jkkr who has seen difference in jikook over the chapt2 era. Just because one jkkr doesn't agree with another doesn't mean they HAVE to be from another ship. And Tkkrs don't talk about jkk the way anon talked because it's hard for Tkkrs to even address the things jkk did together Especially GCFT so anon is definitely not a tkkr.

Second idk in which spaces YOU were because the whole jikook tag was clogged with very much negativity during AYS Especially after 1st,2nd ep because everyone was Feeling the difference in the way jk talked to anon because we have never seen them bicker this much after their debut self. over these past few yrs we have seen them very much be sweet towards e/o and not really bicker atleast not to the level of AYS and it was maybe because we never had full hrs of just jkk only so we're seeing their raw self so maybe jkk have been this way towards e/o for long time but we just never got to witness it before and hence why it was kinda shocking for many jkkrs and yes there was very much negativity. talking about how jk said "Jimin is dead" and laughed when jm was sick because some jkkrs didn't like that because they haven't seen jk talk like that etc etc. If you need @ of the blogs who's seen this negativity ask me and I'll definitely provide it in next ask (I'm not doing in this one because I don't wanna disclose their @ to other anons who might attack them).

Yes the 1st ep looked awkward maybe because they haven't hangout together for some time and when they're doing they're in front of cam so they don't know how to act, It happens when you're meeting s/o after some time and haven't exactly planned things you're doing or you haven't thought it thoroughly. They Started loosening up at the end of 2nd ep. And if anyone talks about their physical closeness as why would they be close like that when they are awkward then ITS taekook is good example of that why or how.

anon didn't lie when they said that jk didn't bother showing up for jm anywhere because that's true. he was at hybe for CK most probably saw jm is practicing stopped there and went home exactly like how he showed up at one of hobi's filming during JITB because the set was in hybe. That time jm specifically asked jk to come to show support to him more and jungkook didn't come again. we saw jm's practice BB and jk wasn't there again and when jk asked when was jm's next music show jm also told him that jk has already seen his dance during practice so it's normal to assume the practice was last one. yes he might have came for another practice but given we haven't seen I'll chose not to make up that "he came to the practice again" because if everyone just start assuming things with nothing to back up there's no difference them and Tkkrs.You remembered what jm said what during serendipity recording then how did you forgot what jm said During festa 2022 when jk was whinning about jm not showing him his songs along with other members?? let me tell you jm said "Well i told you, asked you all to come and see me work" so didn't jm give open invitation here to ALL members including jk? so did he go or not? i guess not if we go by the whinning he was doing over jm not showing him his song, we have also seen jk watching jm doing filter practice so I'm sure coming again for jm's other practices or MV sets to "show support" shouldn't be so hard given jk went to dream movie premiere, and a musical of tae's frnds to show support or wtv it was. plus given how jk traveled to Hawaii when tae said he missed jk so the hybe building (hobi saw jm there working as well so the pdogg house wasn't the only place jm worked) and before you wonder how new i am it's my 5th year in the Fandom. not as old as you but old enough to have known all of their contents.

Jimin talked about him talking with jk about music for hrs and said that he'd tell jk what he learned so i think he was talking about the time AFTER they shot in NYC for AYS. jm talked about going to vocal lessons when he was working on muse(in his live) so I'm assuming he talked with jk about music after NYC trip where he also heard "Who" for the very first time. my personal assumption which I'm pretty sure of is that jk wasn't aware of what's going on with jm when he was working on FACE and the live jk did after face dropped was him just catching up with what's jm doing. I mean he didn't even know when jm was doing his music shows etc etc. my personal assumption tho.

There's no need for jkk to lie to us and say "you didn't call me when i was free and i didn't call you when u were free" because they simply could have not said anything rather than lying. I'm definitely not a tkkr who spin their words to fit my narative so I'll take things as it is said to us when I don't see any reason for them to lie to us.

Yes having e/o in military is a comfort for them but I'll ask u if u get an option of enlisting alone OR u can Enlist with ur friend whom you know for a decade now what option would u chose? won't u wanna go with ur frnd if U actually have an option? given the status they have it's obvious more comfort for them that they have their frnd with them so I believe any normal human would chose to go with their frnd than alone with given option. and jkk do have visible tattoes so they obviously have limited options that don't mean they have to go with e/o BUT why not go with ur frnd than go alone? it's very natural doens't have to be "they can't live w/o e/o".

And just like Taekook changed jikook changed as well. many have hard time beliveing it but that's what how atleast some of us see it. have some points to add for this topic as why but it's already too long so I'll stop.

Thank you, anon, for the oh so detailed read.

And for also proving my point that some people on here actually believe that the only times jikook have ever interacted in their entire lives is when they film content for us.

Bravo!

I was going to just leave it at that but I've got some time so why not write more?

Anon not being a tkkr? Yeah, okay. It is true that not all jikookers have the same opinion. Some support, some simply ship and can become very insecure because they don't actually see jikook as two actual people in an actual relationship. But I actually have working braincells and can very easily spot tkkr rhetoric as opposed to insecure jikooker rhetoric. Anon was a tkkr clearly trying to gaslight. I can actually point out very specific phrases used if you'd like.

Jikook have never bickered before AYS? Really?! REALLY?! You stated you're five years into this fandom so my assumption is your consumption of content begins at 2019. Because there is NO WAY that anyone could have seen jikook interactions since 2013, and claimed they have only ever been 'lovey-dovey'.

If there was any awkwardness at the very beginning of filming (which I still have yet to see), do you know why? It's because Jimin and Jungkook DIDN'T HAVE A CLUE WHAT THEY WERE FILMING! They didn't even have a frigging name for the show! To the point that they, along with the staff said on multiple occasions that they didn't even know if this even would be released. Not because they were awkward with each other but because they were just going with the flow for the first time. And as entertainers, they needed to feel out the situation to provide content for us. Guess what? That takes a bit of time.

And your whole essay on JK not being there for Jimin? I'm not even going to go into detail because clearly the only time Jimin and Jungkook interact is when a camera is rolling.

Finally the military thing. You know what would have been more comforting than each other? Being assigned to an area that wasn't the most dangerous and active. And visible tattoos have nothing to do with anything as a lot of persons have posted about. It may have barred them from a select few, but certainly not all other avenues. And Jungkook could have just as easily chosen Taehyung to enlist with. But he didn't. And I hardly think he tossed a coin or that Jimin was the second option. The apparently indigestible fact remains that jikook actively chose each other.

You claim that jikook changed, just like Taekook, and that's just how some of 'you' see it. Fine. Everyone's entitled to their opinion. And I would actually genuinely be interested in those 'whys' you mentioned.

But please, when you do, make sure you can clearly reference from the beginning.

Because I can also do that to show how jikook's relationship has changed over the years. Only, it's not going to be the change you see.

[slimybeth69]

Touch: Part 4

Summary: Din shows you what special thing he's been wanting to do with you.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings/tags: SPOILERS FROM HERE ON OUT. THE MANDALORIAN & THE BOOK OF BOBA FETT. eventual angst, slow burn, graphic depictions of wounds and violence, eventual non-con, eventual therapy speak, Grogu, Mando takes off his helmet, so much shit happens in this story.

chapter warnings: object insertion (v&a), graphic depictions of blood and guts (not sexual), and some fluff at the end.

a/n: This was very much inspired by the legendary Rough Day. It's such an incredible story and so well written. Don't have as high hopes for this, it's mostly just me being horny for Din Djarin.

a/n pt2: So, hello-- it's me, Beth. I have a couple things to say- This is when the reader and The Mandalorian's story starts. Before this chapter, the first three had been one-shots written with no intention of turning it into a story. But I did, so.... here it is. I hope you all like it.

unbeta'd, probably not proof-read because of my ADHD. still unbeta'ed, not as poorly proofread and changed slightly from ao3.

SORRY EVERYBODY ELSE

Masterlist

<- Previous

"That cannot be safe."

You are staring where you think Din is standing with your mouth hanging open, jaw almost touching your chest. He has just gotten done explaining to you what he wants to do to you.

His Maker forsaken helmet is back on now and the lights are still off.

He needs to see what he’s doing for this. 

“It will be safe, I promise.” He chuckles quietly, as if that is supposed to be reassuring in a moment of vulnerability like this. “Are you ever not safe with me?” He asks that last part like his helmet might have a special mood sensor in there that tells him exactly what you're feeling.

You’re hesitant because this was unusual, even for Din.

"This could potentially be the first time," you chuckle nervously as you press your cheek to the cool metal.

If you're being honest— with Maker and yourself… what Din wants to do to you is making your apex tingle again.

Despite the nerves flowing through ever fiber of your body, you're sinking to your knees in the void. The moment your chest touches the floor of the Razor Crest for the second time tonight, you're actually thankful for the darkness. Doing something like this feels far less naughty in the dark.

"I don't want to get vaporized."

"Little one," Din runs one of his hands— which is always as hot as the sun, always— up the line of your spine slowly to comfort you. "I won't let anything bad happen to you," he rasps from behind his helmet. "I took the charge out already, besides… that happens on the other end."

The Amban rifle is long, about as long as you are tall. The non-business end is where the shoulder crook is. It’s shaped in a dramatic arch. One end is slightly longer than the other. Both ends of the arch are dull and rounded. Perfect for your shoulder to rest in when you aim.

It’s smooth and cold as Din traces it along your folds.

It surprisingly fits perfectly there as well.

"Looks so tight," his rasp is quiet, almost like he's ashamed to admit it. The tip of one of the horns is pushing against your entrance now, sliding in further and further— so slowly. "Need to see you filled."

His words make you shiver. It was clear that Din thought about you while he wasn't here… he had taken your notebook so that he could think about you all he wanted. You just never really thought about what he been imagining while looking at the pictures you had drawn of yourself in that notebook.

“It feels good?” Even through the modulator, you can hear his excitement— but it's intermingled with concern for your comfort, and that makes you melt against the hard metal of the ships floor.

You let Din know it does feel good with a content hum as he pushes the Abman's horn further into you.

It's been so long since anything has been inside you besides your own fingers and very, very recently Din's thick, long, ten billion degree digits. So long in fact, you almost forgot how delicious the stretch of something inside you feels.

You sigh happily again as the smooth, polished wood slides further into your soaked entrance. “It does feel good.” A moan as it glides against that utterly sweet spot inside you. “So good.” 

Din respires loudly as he watches the second horn of the Amban inch closer to your untouched hole. "You stretch so nicely, little one," he murmurs from under his helmet.

Sweat starts to bead across your brow as Din starts to work the first horn in and out of your wetness at the absolute perfect pace. It's not to slow, not to fast— he's allowing you to adjust while still giving you friction. To you, right now on the floor, the thrusts feel tender and sweet.

Loving, almost.

Your hips instinctively start to rock back to meet his thrusts, needing more, wanting it deeper inside of you, but that's when the second horn notches at your second hole. It hasn't penetrated you yet, but the pressure of it at your opening has you feeling rather intimidated.

Din pulls the Amban away from you. There is a moment of pause, nothing happens, and then you feel his tongue massaging against your tightest hole.

"Oh my Maker," you sigh loudly as he pushes past the ring of muscle to open and loosen you up for what he wants to see so badly.

"…would do this forever…" he murmurs from between your supple cheeks. The vibrations from his voice make you shiver and you have to bite back a smile at the sound of him unmodulated.

You wonder where the helmet is— did he take it completely off or is he just wearing it on the crown of his skull?

It doesn't really matter, you don't even really care as he pushes his tongue back inside of you. His breathless panting as he pushes two fingers into your cunt simultaneously and makes you arch your back down towards the floor, pushing your ass back against him.

"So good. S-so good," he pumps his fingers in and out of you a few times before he pulls away and loudly spits against your now loosened hole.

"Maker," you sigh at the obscene noise and the withdrawing of his fingers.

Din replaces the horns of the shoulder crook and slowly begins to work the first one in and out as the second tip taps your now other wet and ready hole. Slowly, he starts to push forward and you whimper at this new stretch. A different kind of feeling, it feels ludicrous. Out of place.

“Din…”

The word escapes your lips, and your fists clench in response. Through gritted teeth, you utter one long Maker as he removes the Amban from your body and rests a comforting hand on your back.

“It hurts? Are you okay?” He’s concerned. Sounding almost apologetic.

“No. It doesn’t hurt. It’s just different, go slower.” You don’t want to stop. It did feel good.

“Touch yourself while I do this.” His modulated whispers into your ear make you push back against the Amban again and it presses against your asshole again. “Touch...like the first night, please. I want to see it.”

The fact that Din remembers, and thinks about that first night the way you do… it makes your heart start to beat faster against the floor of the ship.

“Okay.” You breathe, one hand reaching for your clit. Your fingers find it and desperately start to circle and swirl around the wet mess between your legs. 

“Yes. Just like that, little one.” Din trails one finger down your spine gently, watching as you begin to play with yourself. “Fuck. You’re always so ready… and wet…” He admires you while his thrusts forward with Amban a little more aggressively now.

“You want to make yourself come while I put it in?” He whispers, dragging of his fingers back up your spine.

You nod silently.

“Was that a yes?” He’s wanting to hear you say it.

“Yes, Din, please…” You’re whining quietly as your fingers cease to stop touching your aching clit.

With more force behind his movements as his traveling hand grips one of your ass cheeks and pulls you apart so he can watch. The second horn presses against your tight hole with each thrust, he’s careful not to enter until you’re ready.

“You take it so well....” It’s a modulated whisper. "So wet--"

“Only for you,” sigh happily, feeling silly for saying it but in the moment, you don't what he thinks.

It’s true. You’ve never gotten this excited for anyone else.

Din gasps softly, you almost don’t hear it over the sounds of your fingers in your slick and the horn pushing into you over and over. “S-Say that again, p-please…”

“Only for you, Din…” You murmur with your eyes closed. Your touching had been getting you ready, your fingers had been spinning around your clit quickly— release was so close.

The thick wood horn inside you plus your fingers on your throbbing clit, and now this new sensation pressed against a new hole that’s never been explored before tonight, are all coiling something deep inside your lower belly.  

“Gonna…gonna come…” You strain the whimpers out, your body trembling right on the precipice of bliss.

Din presses his groin against the outside of your thigh and begins to move in a steady rhythm. You feel him pushing harder and faster, rubbing against you as he picks up speed.

"Oh! Oh!” You cry out, pushing your hips back as the coil inside of you snaps. “Diiiin!”

He pushes the Amban forward gently and you feel it enter you from behind. It’s a fiery pain, dulled tremendously by the bliss coming from between your legs, but it’s still pain.

A sharp intake of breath through your teeth is quickly followed by a pleasurable tightening of your inner walls around the smooth wooden horn inside. The feeling draws another loud moan from you.

Din continues to push and pull the shoulder crook in and out of you while you ride out your orgasm. You’re shoving your self back against the Amban now, wanting more, needing it deeper in your cunt while you come on it. The horn in your tighter hole stretches you wider, a new sensation, not pain or pleasure but a feeling of being completely full. You shudder on the floor of The Crest. 

“You’re s-so good,” Din sounds like he’s in awe once again. You amaze him. “Did you like that?” He asks, his modulator voice is gone and now he’s kissing your spine. When he removes the Amban from inside you, you whine at the empty feeling. The gaping feeling.

“Yes.” You pant on the floor. “So good, Din… So good.” You collapse, body fully going flat against the floor.

Din lays down beside you and wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you against him tightly.

There is a moment of silence while he listens to you catch your breath while one of his strong, calloused fingers circle around your belly button slowly.

“I just remembered how you clean.” He whispers into your ear. “We should get off the floor.”

For a moment you’re offended, but then you remember how well you cleaned before he started touching you and you chuckle.

“I did better this time,” your hand hesitantly finds his on your stomach. He stretches his fingers wide so you can slide yours between them. “Didn’t you notice how shiny it was?”

“I didn’t notice anything besides how you looked in your beautiful dress,” he murmurs, planting gentle kisses the back of your neck.

There is only one word you have in your vocabulary to describe how you need him to kiss you: desperately. You need to feel his lips on yours, need to feel his tongue swirling against your own. You might want that more than anything else he could offer you- but you won’t tell him that.

“We should get to bed.” You whisper to him instead.

Din doesn’t say anything for a moment, he just holds you close to him with the bridge of his nose against the back of your skull. Finally, and reluctantly, he lets you go but not for long. He’s on his feet before you can even sit up, and he’s got his hands under your arms, lifting you off the ground.

You’re suspended in midair for one second before he gently sets you back down on your feet.

“Do you need help walking?” He asks as you hold your hands out in front of you, feeling for obstacles in the dark. 

“Do you not need help?” You’re snippy, stalled in the dark waiting for his response.

He’s quiet for a long time. When he does speak, it startles you. “It’s my ship…” He sounds offended that you’d even ask him such a question. 

“Fine…” You grumble as he slips his hand into yours and takes the lead.

“Here’s the ladder…” he places your hand on one of the rungs and then stands behind you. “Go on, little one. I won’t let you fall,” he whispers into your ear as you hesitate to start climbing.

There is no need to do any of this in the dark when Din isn’t here. You keep all the lights on until you’re in bed and then you make it dark. You’ve never had to climb the ladder in the void.

Surprisingly enough, you make it up to the second level with no issues. Din follows close behind and once he’s beside you, his hand is in yours again, leading you to the sleeping quarters.

You’re not shocked when he puts you into his bed and crawls behind you. 

“What happens in the morning? Hm?” You whisper curiously, turning around to face him. “Because I almost broke my nose last time… I’m not doing that again.” 

Din chuckles, slipping one hand under your cheek, the other slides to your waist, his lips touch your chin softly. “I’m always up before you.” Then he presses his lips to yours, just as lightly.

Din’s lips are soft and warm— perfect. He’s perfect. He smells faintly of oil from the engine and sweat from being stuck under his helmet all the time.

To you, right now, he smells like what a home would feel like.

“Close your pretty eyes, and let me worry, okay?” He asks with his lips still pressed against yours. He kisses you again quickly before you can really react, and then rolls onto his side. Your chest is pressed against his back and he grabs one of your wrists to drape it over his side, then holds your hand to his stomach. 

How are you supposed to sleep after that?

What?!

That was your first since long before you even got on this ship! It’s been so long since you shared a kiss with anyone. Ages it felt like!

Your first kiss with Din— and he does it twice and then just rolls over ? Din did this on purpose. You’re sure of it.

The child is what you wake up to— his little green face right in yours.

You’re still in Din’s bed, and the child is touching your lips, pushing them apart with his little clawed fingers so he can get a good look at your teeth. You let him and wonder what he’s looking for.

Then you wonder how the hell he got into the bed with you but as your head turns to inspect your surroundings, Din is standing— fully dressed in his beskar, staring down at you.

“He was fussing.” It’s said flatly. “I’m surprised you didn’t hear him.” He’s turning to walk away. 

“I had a long night!” You call out to him as he leaves the room. 

The child is full of energy. He wants to play. Right now. 

But you’re naked under these sheets. 

You set the child on the floor and wrap yourself up in the sheets and tuck them under your arms.

The clothes you bought yesterday aren’t where you put them when you got back from the market… and then you remember the fashion show you put on for him last night. The smirk on your face is hard to hide as you make your way into the lower level of the ship.

Once you’re down there, you turn the corner and find Din with your white dress in his hands. He’s massaging the fabric between his gloved thumb and forefinger carefully as if he can feel it through the yellow leather. He’s just staring down into the mess of crumbled, white linen in his grasp.

“I don’t know if I wanna know— I don’t think I do— but can I have those back, please?” You extend your arm for the clothing he’s holding. He turns to look at you.

“Last night…” Din walks to you slowly. “You were so beautiful in this,” he holds the dress out to you as he continues to speak. “I could look at you all the time.” He’s in front of you now, looking down at you with the dress in his hands. “Clothes. No clothes.”

“The kids awake,” you smirk up at him as you take the dress out of his hands. “Get your helmet on straight.”

“I have to leave,” He says as you're turning to walk away. “Tonight.”

“For how long?” You ask, chasing him down the hallway towards the ladder that leads up to the first floor.

“I’m unsure… possibly a couple days… maybe longer. A week—”

That’s the longest he’s been gone since you’ve been here. You turn your head over your shoulder. “A week!?”

Suddenly, Din’s sweet kisses from last night don’t seem so very sweet anymore. The feel dirty and almost like a ploy to keep you from complaining about this.

His helmet nods silently.

“Is where we’re going nice?” You ask curiously. If it is nice… then you might not care. You see him shake his head and groan in frustration. “Why!? Why do you cart the child and I around out here instead of finding us a plac-”

Din presses a gloved finger to your lips to quiet you.

“So I can keep both of you safe. You’re not safe with so many planets and stars between us.” He explains gently, trying to not upset you further. “I want you close by.” 

Even though your heart is bursting in your chest because Din wants to keep you safe, wants you close— something about him choosing to kiss you last night, knowing he was leaving for so long today makes you angry. You say nothing in response to him.

“I know you’re upset. I’m sorry.” Din apologizes.

“It’s just part of the job description.” You say coldly, turning your head to the side so you don’t have to stare back at your reflection in his helemt.

It’s hard to not be upset after the night you just shared together, the touching, the kisses, the sleeping in his bed with him all night? How could you not feel some sort of emotion after that?

Din grips your chin in his thumb and forefinger, turning your head to look at him. “You want more money? For the job ?” With his free hand, he reaches behind his cape and pulls a fistful of credits out and pushes them into your chest forcefully. “Take them then,” he hisses through the modulator. Din pushes your chin as he pulls his hand away, and then he turns to leave. The credits scatter to the floor before you have time to catch them.

The child hears them falling noisily, and comes running to start grabbing them so he can begin putting them into his mouth. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no...” You whimper through the tears pricking at your eyes, trying to get all the credits back from him. You have to stick your whole hand in his mouth to get the last one back.

With all the credits in your hands and tears in your eyes, you throw them into the hallway Din just walked down. They scatter across the floor as you scoop the child up in your arms and make your way to the second level.

Once you’re in the sleeping quarters again and the child is preoccupied with one of his new toys, you allow yourself to come undone.

Din went from calling you beautiful one moment and then next, he’s shoving credits at you like you get paid to get fucked and then treated badly. What did you do to deserve that?

Tears start to roll down your cheeks, and the child freezes seeing you in distress. He’s never seen you cry. Not one time. He watches you, his head tilting side to side slowly as you press the heels of your hands into your eyes. 

He makes a quiet cooing noise at you but you don’t look. You can’t. There are too many tears and you feel so embarrassed for being so enamored with Din lately. He’s your boss. That’s it.

This was never going to happen again. You’ll sleep on the mat forever and never even look at his bed again. You might even move to a different part of the ship. You and the child.

You feel little hands on your leg and you finally look. The child is standing beside you, his big eyes are wide and he looks concerned for you, his little fingers are gripping your leg softly. 

The child makes you cry harder, because what if Din kicks you off after this?

What if he tells you that this isn’t working and you need to go back to the casino? You’d be devastated. This child is your world now. Din had slowly started to become a part of your everything— but not anymore!

Fuck Din!

As you change into fresh clothes and wipe away the stubborn tears that refuse to stop, you carefully make the bed with clean sheets. You tidy up the ship and wash any dishes or toys that need it. The baby watches you with concern as you move around the room, struggling to control your emotions. He sticks close to you as you pace back and forth, trying to find something - anything - to occupy your mind. All of your sewing supplies are in the same room as Din, but you can't bring yourself to go there right now.

You break out your notebook and lay on the floor with the child. You give him a page and your old charcoal. You show him how to doodle. You draw him. He sees it and points to himself. You nod and clap for him. Then you draw yourself. He points to the picture of you and then touches your nose. It makes you cry again. 

All day. 

You’re in that room all day spontaneously crying, when finally, the door opens and Din walks past the two of you with no acknowledgement. You stand up, grabbing the child and leave into the room he just walked out of. 

You two sit on the floor again and you show him how you sew. You hold up the almost finished robe to him, seeing if it’ll fit. 

“You’re gonna be the most well dressed green baby on the ship.” You tell him. He coos and warbles up to you, his fingers touching the fabric of his new robe. “Do you like it?” You ask but he doesn’t respond as usual. He’s a baby.

“We should talk,” Din’s modulated voice makes you jump. He’s standing in the doorway watching you two. 

“‘Kay.” You say curtly, going back to your sewing. You don’t look at him. 

“You’re upset?” He asks softly.

You turn your head and blink at him in disbelief.

“I already gave you more cre-” He starts to say, but sees you’re trying to hold back tears. 

“I don’t want your money.” The words come out quickly before you can cry. You strain back the sob forming in your throat. “I don’t want more.” You have to look away, you don’t want him to see you cry. “Just leave me alone, please.” 

The child touches your arm comfortingly and warbles quietly at you. 

“If you’re so unhappy here, I can take you back to Canto Bight.” Din sounds so angry when he speaks from behind the modulator.

All you can do is sob loudly. It’s the only sound coming out of you.

Din is quiet for so long listening to you cry. When he speaks again, his tone is softer and quieter. More kind than before. “Are you unhappy here?”

“No. I love it here,” you weep softly. You do love it here. You blink and tears roll down your cheek again. You attempt to turn your body away from Din but he’s beside you now, kneeling with his hand on your shoulder. 

“I thought you did too…but you are crying,” he says nervously. “Happy girls don’t cry…why are you crying? Please tell me.” 

“You were s-s-s-so mean about th-the credits,” you wail. “I didn’t a-ask for m-more c-credits.” You cannot stop crying no matter how hard you try. “I d-don’t want you t-t-to take m-me back to Can-Canto B-bi-” You can’t even speak it, it makes you cry too hard. 

“You think I’m going to take you back there?” He tries to turn you to face him but you turn the other way, further away from him. “I thought you were unhappy. I didn’t think you wanted this anymore. I don’t blame you. I worry about you too much and I don’t let you leave because of it. I’m not always nice.” 

“But I care for you! And the child so much!” You wail. You scoop the child who is trying to crawl into your lap in your arms and hold him close to your chest. “I love him so much and I can’t be away from him.” You sob harder. “He’s all I’ve got now and if you take him from me it’ll kill me.” The child wraps his little arms around your neck as much as he can. Coos and baby warbles fill your ear. 

“I wasn’t-” Din is desperately trying to turn you now, both hands are on your shoulders and he’s spinning you on the smooth surface of the Crest’s floor. “-look at me.” He says it sternly enough that you listen and look up at him with bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks. “I don’t want to take you back to Canto Bight. I don’t. You didn’t see the child when you were at the market. He missed you. Cried for you.”

“You said he had fun!” You wail again. “He cried?” You hold the child closer. 

Din chuckles. 

“I wasn’t telling you that you have to leave.” He explains after a moment of silence. “Do you still want to stay? Knowing what happens, knowing that I leave. I have to. Do you still want to be here?” 

You stare up at him for a long time. You do. You’re still sad though. At a loss for words.

“You were so cold to me. Then you called it ‘part of the job description’ so I assumed you wanted more credits. More compensation for what you do. I got mad because I thou-” He cuts himself off. 

“You thought what?” You ask nervously. He stays quiet. 

“It’s nothing. I thought you wanted more. I tried to give you what I thought you wanted.” He sighs and takes his hands from your shoulders. You can feel where the heat from his gloved hands held you. 

“What were you going to say?” Your eyes haven’t left his helmet. 

“I have to go now. When I get back we will talk more. Okay?” 

You almost start crying again but he pinches the tip of one gloved finger between his opposite index and thumb and pulls his hand free. He reaches for you with it and wipes the tears off one of your cheeks with his thumb before cupping your face in his palm

“Perfect, beautiful little one.” He rasps softly. “So perfect.” He rubs his thumb along your cheek and wipes the new falling tears. “Don’t cry. Please. Don’t cry. I’ll be back soon and we will talk about this.” You nod quickly. 

“Okay.” You sniffle softly, trying to calm the fear and sadness inside you. ‘Okay.” 

Din rests the top of his visor to your forehead softly. 

“Try and find forgiveness in your heart, for me. Please.” He keeps you there, pressed against his helmet as he speaks to you. “I’ll be thinking of you. Looking at your doodles . Waiting to see you again.” 

Then he pulls away and stands. 

“Are you staying on the floor with the child or do you need assistance getting up?” He asks, extending a hand out to you. You shake your head at him. 

“I’m gonna finish this.” You hold up the almost finished robe with one hand, the other arm is still cradling the child to your chest. He’s resting his head on your shoulder. 

“I’ll be back. Stay safe. I’ll set up the perimeter when I leave. Do not go outside of it. Please.” He rattles off his ‘Din is leaving’ list to you. You hear it every time he goes.

“You be safe. Come back in one piece.” You smile up at him softly. Din looks down at you for a long time before he speaks again.

“Perfect. Beautiful.”

Din does not come back in one piece. Well, all together yes, but he’s hanging on by threads.

In the dead of night, you are jolted awake by the sound of the ship's door opening. It has been ten days since he left, and you've been unable to sleep properly ever since. As you strain your ears, you can hear his boots hitting the ramp with uneven steps, like he's struggling to stay upright.

Jumping out of bed, not needing to turn any lights on because you can hear him banging around in the adjacent room. 

“Din.” You whisper into the darkness of the entryway. “Din, is that you?” You search for the light button on the wall desperately trying to see something. Finally, you find the small button and press it. 

You see Din facing the metal hull of the ship, leaning against it with his arms curled up over his helmet which is pressed tightly to the wall of the Crest. He’s supporting all of his weight on one leg. The other foot hovers inches above the ground.

He’s hurt.

Time feels like it stops as you rush to him. In the short amount of time it takes you to get to him, you manage to stumble over your own feet twice. When you reach him, you put one hand on his shoulder and he flinches under your touch.

“Where?” You ask nervously.

You’ve never seen him like this before. He’s been injured before, sure…but never like this. Never to the point where he can’t speak to you. He points to his leg, inner thigh and you kneel before him, inspecting. It’s a burn or a cut or both, you don’t know. Some of it’s been cauterized already, other parts of it are still bleeding badly. It looks so deep.

“What do I need to do? Tell me?” 

Everything about you feels like a Mimbanese mudslide. It feels like all the hard parts that keep you upright have been stolen from you. Din says nothing as you kneel in front of him helplessly. You can hear small, stifled groans of pain coming from his helmet. 

“I don’t know how to help you.” You whisper powerlessly. It’s like time has stopped and the world fell silent around just the two of you. “Tell me what to do.” You beg him. 

“Shh. Please just be quiet.” He snaps at you in frustration. He’s still got his helmet leaned against the wall.

Instead of being upset you stand, and run to get clean water and a rag. You check to make sure the child is still asleep in his bassinet. When you return he’s sitting on the bench. He’s got his beskar off and he’s leaned against the hull of the ship, still groaning through his modulator. 

“It’s going to hurt and I’m so sorry.” You warn him, taking the clean wet rag and ringing it out into the bowl of water. “Okay? Are you ready?” He isn’t watching, he’s looking up to the ceiling, choking back sobs of pain. 

“Go.” Din chokes out. You move the rag closer to his wound and his hand finds your wrist. He grabs you tightly as you hover over the bleeding mess. “S-so g–gentle. P-please.” They came out sobbed and choked on soft whispers. 

With the most feather and gentle touch you can, you start to clean it, and once the rag is covered in blood you realize you don’t have another bowl of water to rinse in. 

“I’ll be right bac--” You start but Din grips your wrist tighter to the point where it starts to hurt. “I need more water.” You explain quickly, not upset he’s holding you tightly. “I’m coming right back. I promise.” His fingers loosen on you. “I promise.”

With more speed you’ve ever used in your life you grab another bowl and more water and rush back to him. He hasn’t moved. His good leg is shaking, like he’s shivering.

“I’m back. See?” You look up at him and rinse the rag in the new bowl and watch all the dirt and blood and muck float and twirl in the water. “I came right back. Just like I said, I’m here.” You try and comfort him as you go back to cleaning him carefully. “I’m right here. Just breathe and think about us and those nights. It’ll be okay.”

Desperate to help him find some comfort in this you start rattling off whatever nice things come to your head. Nervously babbling because you can’t hold it in. “I’ve been waiting for you to come back so we can share the bed again, and I’ll hold you like I did before you left.” You're fighting back tears of fear and frustration and worry for Din. You fight them back though because this isn’t the time for tears.

Of course, he says nothing. He’s probably worried about biting right through his tongue with the grunts and groans he’s making under that helmet.

You continue to clean him up until you can start to see things that make your stomach turn inside you. Inside of his muscle and fatty tissue. Blood starts reappearing as you pat it away. You grow more fearful and nervous. 

“You need something to bandage this, where is it?” Din doesn’t answer before you’re looking around. Din points to the opposite wall and you see a small box strapped to the wall. You run to it, rip the straps from around the sides, you stumble again as you turn around and almost fall as you rush back to him. 

Everything about cleaning him and even being near him had to be so slow and so careful that when you weren’t near him you tried to make up for lost time, sometimes moving too fast for your own good. You slide a couple inches as you kneel before you even stop moving. You drop the box on the floor and your nervous fingers fumble with the snaps on the front. 

“Fuckin– c’mon, open!” You can’t get one of the snaps undone. A hidden sharp edge slices your index finger full across the length of the pad from under the rim. “Fuck!” You exclaim, looking and seeing blood pooling on your own finger now. You wipe it off on your pants and more carefully now try the stuck snap. It opens fine with your newfound care. “Fuck you.” You whisper again to the box, your finger hurts, it’s still bleeding.

“Abyssin grafting patch.” Din hisses through clenched teeth. 

Looking for what he’s talking about you find it, and set it on the bench beside him. 

“You need to take off your pants or I can cut them.” You explain, seeing that you won't be able to get the patch on without taking off his pants. The fabric was sliced through with something so hot that it melted some of the fabric to his skin. 

“Cut.” He groans, letting his helmet hit the hull with a loud clunk. You find the medical scissors and carefully peel the melted fabric away from his skin. He hisses loudly and you slow down as much as you can. You try to breathe. You let the scissors do most of the work, they’re sharp and let you cut down Din’s pant leg so you can open the fabric and get more access to him. 

“Okay. I’m gonna put it on now.” You walk him through what you’re doing as you rip open the patch from its wrapper. “You ready?” He’s still not looking down at you but he nods. 

You tenderly press the patch against his leg and watch as it fuses itself to him. You sigh with relief. He’s safe. He’s here. You fall back onto your buttocks and let your legs stretch out in front of you.

“You’re bleeding.” Din sighs when he finally takes his head away from the wall. “Why’re you bleeding?” He’s panting, pointing now to your finger. You look and there is a small circle of blood on the floor where your finger is resting. 

“I cut myself on the stupid fucking box.” You grumble, reaching for it. You grab a wipe and a small bandage. You clean yourself up and root around for what else could be in there. “Do you want the pills or the gas?” You ask, holding up a small bottle filled with capsules and a container with a mouth and nose mask attached to it. 

“Do you need either?” He asks seriously. You look at him with confusion. 

“I don’t do drugs, Din, what are you talking about?” 

“Your finger.” He points again. He’s gotta be delirious. 

“It’s just a cut, I’m fine. You’re missing some of your– the gas. You need the gas.” You decide for him. You put the canister under your arm and stand. “Can you walk?” He nods and goes to stand. You put one of his arms around your neck and shoulders, letting him put some of his weight on you. 

The two of you slowly make your way into the sleeping quarters. He’s part limping, part hopping on one foot. 

“What happened?” You whisper now within earshot of the child who surprisingly didn’t wake up for any of that. You don’t know what you would have done had the child awoken while you were panicking. 

“Fight.” He groaned quietly as he sat down on the edge of the bed. You hand him the canister. 

“I’m going to sleep in the other room tonight with the child.” He tilts his helmet up to you and starts to shake his head. “Yes. We are. You need to rest and you’re going to be knocked out with the gas. I don’t want to take any risks of you not waking up before me.” You lean forward and press your forehead to the top of his face visor. Din wraps one hand around the back of your neck. 

“I missed you.” He rasps softly. You close your eyes and keep your forehead pressed to his helmet. 

“I missed you too. So much.” He brings the other hand to your cheek and holds you to him. 

“I should sleep-” He pulls away from you and tries to stand. “-in the other room.” You put both hands on his shoulders and gently force him to sit back down. 

“You are not moving. Please. Use the gas and sleep. You can sleep in the other room tomorrow night, okay?” You tease him gently. 

“You’ll stay here tomorrow?” He asks, tilting his head to the side again. You nod. 

“Yes, I’ve been waiting for it.” You smile down at him. “But tonight you need to sleep. As long as you can. No worry of anyone seeing you. We’ll be okay,” You motion towards the baby's bassinet. “I’ll see you whenever you decide to wake up. Okay?” 

He nods up at you. You press your forehead to his helmet again and sigh. 

“Glad you’re back.” You whisper before you turn and push the baby’s bassinet into the other room. You have to come back in and grab your blankets and mat. He watches you, as you walk back and forth. 

As you pass him to leave the room for the last time he reaches for you and his fingers graze your wrist. You stop and look down at him. 

“Perfect. Beautiful.” He rasps quietly. 

You smile at him, taking his hand in yours. You bring his fingers to your lips and kiss each one gently. 

“Sleep.” You whisper to him again. 

Then you leave because he does need his rest. It kills you to leave the room and shut the door because you so badly want to run back to him and hold him while he sleeps and keep him safe but you know you can’t. You know you don’t have the willpower to not look if given the opportunity. Especially if he were to never know. You’re ashamed of it, but you know it to be true. 

Din doesn’t leave the bed for the next two days. You wait on him hand and foot, happily. Bringing him any and everything he could ask for. Laying with him when he wanted, you and the child both. You actually cooked for him. Really cooked. And didn’t even burn yourself. 

That night after the child had been put to sleep, with just the dim overhead light above his bed, you lay next to him and planted well placed kisses across his strong chest. He’s mostly smooth with just the smallest dark hairs speckled around his nipples and across his chest. The hair mostly rests in a faint line from his belly button down to below the waistband of his pants. 

“I think about you all the time.” You whisper between kisses. “You’re on my mind all day long. You’re in my dreams at night.” His arm is behind you, his fingers rubbing up and down on your back. 

“Really?” He asks, tilting his helmet to the side. You nod at him and lay your head on his stomach gently. “Good things I hope?” He rests the flat of his palm on you. Feeling his warmth, you sigh and nod again.

“Very good things.” You smile. 

In moments like this, you hate the helmet. You hate it so much. 

There are other times that you forget he can take it off; when you talk normally or argue but in moments like this, where you speak so gently to each other and the things each of you say sound like things out of a love story read to you as a child of princesses and princes’.

“I’m sorry if I scared you that night.” He whispers, his fingers press into softly. “I didn’t mean to. I would have done it myself. I always do.” His hand goes back to moving up and down on your skin. You listen. “You did a good job though. Really, I’ll have to pay you more credits now.” He tickles along your side gently and you frown. “ Nurses get paid more.” He teases you. 

Giggles escape your mouth as he starts to tickle the frown off your face. 

“Stop, stop. The kid," you whisper, sitting up from his stomach. 

“Beautiful.” He says softly, moving his hand to your cheek, his thumb rubs across your lips gently. You kiss it with each pass of his thumb. “Perfect.” 

“Why do you say those things?” You roll your eyes at him. “I’m not perfect.” It’s said with a hint of sadness, because you know you’ve been having terrible wishes of him losing his helmet or forgetting it and you just seeing him because you have to know. You pang with guilt every time you look at it lately.

Din doesn’t say anything for a long time. He just rubs his thumb across your lips slowly, sometimes pulling your bottom lip down gently and he lets it pop up back against your top lip. You're hypnotized by it. You lean in against his hand. 

“I think about kissing you every day.” He whispers to you. “I love your mouth. Your lips.” 

Your head starts to buzz. Did you hear Din correctly when he just said he loved something about you?

Maker, you must be about to meet right now because this cannot be real. You’re snapped back from your buzzing thoughts when Din speaks again. 

“Does it make you feel nice?” His hand falls from your face, and you almost fall over into him, not realizing how much you had been leaning into his hand. “When I call you those things?”

“Sometimes. Most times.” You whisper honestly. You don’t like lying to Din. 

“Why not every time?” He asks gently, taking one of your hands in his. 

“Because, I’m not. I don’t always want–” You think about how you want to say it, so it doesn’t come out wrong. “I sometimes am selfish with the thoughts I have about you.” He tilts his helmet to the side. 

“You– Ther– I-I.” He has to clear his throat. “You know that th-” He sighs softly in frustration. “You’re the only one. No need to be selfish.” He laughs nervously. 

In love. You thought it was infatuation but you love him. So damn much. Especially right now. Maybe you only love him right now, you didn’t know. You haven’t been in love before. You’ve definitely never felt this way. Not the feeling you feel right now in your heart. But it’s shadowed quickly by the fact that you’re still feeling guilty. 

“That’s not what I meant.” You chuckle at him softly and squeeze his hand. “Sometimes what I want wouldn’t be good or nice to you.” You try to explain nicely in a way that doesn't sound like; take your helmet off. I don’t care what happens. I wanna see. 

He tilts his head to the side again, still not understanding.

“You… want bad things to happen to me?” His modulated inflection makes you chuckle again. 

“No,” You’re still chuckling, shaking your head. Then you stop. “Well, I don’t know. I don’t know if what I wish for would lead to bad things. Or cause you harm. I know it’d make you disappointed. ” You try and get him to remember the conversation about the helmet, right after he bought you a new notebook for taking your old one. 

“Ohh.” He whispers to you, nodding in understanding. 

Then it’s quiet. For so long, Maker, how is this man so quiet for so long?

“I know it’s not nice of me to wish and want those things. I can’t help it though. My mind and heart wonder. It’s never wishing those things upon you either. I just know they might be an effect of what I want. So technically, yes I do want bad things to happen to you.” You talk nervously. Trying to listen to something other than nothingness. You joke to try and lighten the mood. Nothing works. He stays quiet for so long. 

It’s very aware you’ve made him feel something. You’re not sure what it is yet. 

“You can’t be upset with me.” He says finally. His raspy voice scares you in the silence. You jump but he squeezes your hand. “Promise you won’t be upset?” 

Unsure if you can actually make that promise, you nod your head at him and bite your bottom lip nervously. 

“The child is more than just a child.” He starts. Your heart is racing for a new reason now. “It’s so difficult to explain… but I need to take him, and I need you to stay here.” You rip your hand from his and pull it into your lap.

“You’re taking him from me?” You whisper softly in shock. Din shakes his head quickly. 

“I’m going to bring him back… eventual-” You hold your hand up.

“How long?” Your chin starts to tremble. 

“I don’t know. I really don’t. And I’m sorry. If I knew you two were going to get attached like this I would have never asked you to do this.” He tries to explain.

“You’ve known this whole time that you were going to have to take him!?” It’s a strained whisper of disbelief. “Where are you taking him?” 

“He has to learn the way of the Jedi. I’m taking him to Luke Skywalker.”

You gasp audibly. 

“The Luke Skywalker?” You ask again in disbelief. You've heard stories about him since you were a child.

“Yes. He’s going to teach the child how to use the force, how to be stronger.” Din explains. 

“I’m going. I don’t care what you say or if you have to try and tie me to the Crest. I don’t care. I’m going with you this time.” 

Din sighs loudly. 

“And I’m staying with him.”

“No. You cannot do that.” He tries to grab your hand again but you pull it away. 

“Why not? Why can’t I stay? He’s a baby and he needs someone to care for him. Do you think Luke Skywalker is going to care for him the way I do? The way we do?” You’re still whispering but you are exasperatedly trying to prove your point. Your hand is now pointed at the baby’s bassinet. “Is Luke Skywalker going to make sure that all the bugs he eats don’t have stingers on them? Is he going to give him a bath every night before bed and change his robes and do all the things we do for him?” 

You’re upset that you never asked what Din was doing out in the galaxy while you stayed cooped up in the ship. You always thought that he was just a bounty hunter with a green baby and now you find out that this green baby has always had a destination in mind that you didn’t know about? Your heart was breaking in your chest. 

“You can come with me but you cannot stay.” He’s serious and it makes tears burn your eyes. 

“Will you ever get him back? Will I ever see him again?” Something new comes into your head and you’re fighting back the urge to ask about it. 

“I don’t know. It’s a possibility. I need to take him to Luke.” 

“And then what?” You implore nervously. 

“What do you mean?” Din asks, reaching for your hand again. You let him take it and hold it in his. 

“What happens to me?” Tears roll down your cheeks. “Just don’t l-leave me b-back on Canto B-bight. P-please take me an-anywhere else.” You’re drawing in big gulps of air between each sobbed word. Din squeezes your hand tightly.

“I’m n– I’m not leaving you?” He doesn’t understand what you mean, 

“Without the ch-child what g-good am I to you?” You sob softly.

“You hold a place in my heart. I care for you dearly. I’d still pay you to clean, now you know how to nurse me back to health.”

“I’d do it for free.” You whisper through quiet sniffles.  

Din stays quiet for a long time. 

“You want to stay with the child?” He ask, his hand cupping your face again. 

Eyes have never moved so fast in history the way your eyes flick to Din. 

“Is it an option?” You ask softly, leaning into his hand, the burning hot heat of him overtakes the rest of your face and you’re hot, but it’s so good. Because it’s his heat. Din’s body pressed against yours. 

“If it’s what you desire. I’ll make it an option.” Din’s raspy modulated voice says quietly. “I’d do it for you.” 

“Why? What were you going to say the other day before you left?”

Din presses his thumb to your lips gently, quieting you. “Yes or no?” 

All you can do is nod.

tag list: @thereaperisabitch @pedrospookie @furiousmushroom @creepycorbeaux

I love all your comments and tags and sweet words. Thank you to anyone showing support on this story and me in general.

What does this metal man have in store for you?? What's gonna happen??

[skribbledarker]

Expansion upon my last post about a Zosan Vampire AU. I've had a specific scene in my head for a couple of days, but i know i'm never actually gonna write it lol.

__

My thinking is that sometime within the three weeks where Sanji is essentially starving himself, the crew docks at an island to stock up on groceries and repair damages done to the Sunny during a run-in with the marines.

This, of course, gives Zoro the perfect chance to find the sleaziest bar around and get as drunk as he can manage with the allowance Nami gave him.

Sanji decides to tag along, his reasoning being that the alcohol in his system will dull his senses and hopefully make the stabbing pain in his intestines go away.

Spoiler alert: It doesn't. All the booze actually does is make Sanji dizzy beyond comprehension, which is not a good combo with him being overstimulated and also feeling like his organs are being ripped out of him at any given moment. So, Zoro has to drag him back to the ship. Like literally drag him, because Sanji is a mess and can barely see straight, let alone stand up.

Sanji is slung over Zoro's back, head in the crook of the swordsman's shoulder, and he knows Zoro is probably scolding him for drinking so much but Sanji is putting all his attention into not sinking his teeth into the flesh there. It only makes the hunger worse.

It's literal torture for him, and by the time Zoro sets him up in the bathroom (presumably because he thinks Sanji is going to puke his guts out), Sanji is on his last straw. "It hurts," Sanji pleads to no one, cheek pressed against the cold porcelain. He feels like someone is stabbing him in the stomach repeatedly. "I can't do this anymore."

Zoro crouches down beside him, understandably very confused. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Sanji doesn't respond, too busy squirming and sweating all over the tile, trying not to pay too much attention to the fact that he can hear Zoro's heartbeat. "Cook, what's wrong?" Zoro tries again, placing a hand on Sanji's forehead to see if he has a fever.

It would be so easy, so incredibly easy for Sanji to grab him by the shoulders and drink to his heart's content.

I want to eat you.

Guilt and shame immediately wash over him. Sanji retches into the bowl.

____

skribble actually write the fanfic instead of coming up with a bajillion scenes for this AU level IMPOSSIBLE! also i do have an AO3 with a whopping 1 (ONE) fic posted so if you wanna go check that out feel free!!!

[her-soliloquies]

I don’t think you had malicious intent when you said “if CaitVi hadn’t kissed or had sex, people could argue about them having a platonic friendship” as it compares to Jayvik and Silco/Vander but please rethink your approach. This is a conversation that always takes place when a queer couple is made canon

Ironically, it’s almost of cis hetero women knocking down a f/f ship in favor of a m/m. I’m not 100% sure how you identify as I’m just responding since you are in the CaitVi tag. Most mlm i know root for the f/f ship, even when their ship doesn’t become canon and vise versa. All queers need more positive rep. And we all need to root for each other.

And that includes asexual and any romantic preferences characters like Viktor may have.

Again I’m sorry if I misinterpreted, i think this is an important discussion the community needs to have either way. I just think a lot of the cis heterosexual people need to cognizant when commenting on the queer community and its ships. As a wlm, I’d keep my cis heterosexual guy friends to stay in their lane if they ‘d criticize a m/m ship over a f/f ship.

Omg I didn't mean it like that at all and I'm sorry if it came across like that. I love love love caitvi with all my heart and I was in no way knocking them down in favor of jayvik or silco/vander. I think my point got lost there somewhere.

What I meant was that there will always be some people who'd never wanna see a relationship between two people of the same gender as romantic, always insisting that it's platonic and that “two people can be close without it being romantic and it's harmful if we see them as gay” etc etc. I've seen so many people acting like that that I wouldn't put it past them to label even caitvi as platonic if they hadn't shown them kissing and having sex. Thank god for fortiche.

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Where's Mommy?

Wolffe x Lilith Sestri (OFC)

Part 19

Summary: Wolffe's wife suddenly dies, leaving him a single father in the middle of a war.

Pairing: Wolffe x Lilith Sestri (OFC)

Characters: Wolffe, Cara (child OFC), Comet

Tags & Warnings: heavy angst, mention of death, off-screen death, spousal death, grief, hurt/comfort, family fluff, funeral

Word Count: 1.1k

Author's Note: Merry Christmas everyone! I come bearing a new chapter! Wow, can't believe it's been four months since my last update 😅 Sorry for disappearing on y'all! I can't commit to my previous bi-weekly schedule of updating, but it should be a lot better. Personally, I think this chapter is trash, and far from my usual writing (my beta says otherwise), so please extend a little bit of grace as I get back into the swing of things. As always, please enjoy 💚

Beta: @/beating-a-dead-plot

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Series Masterlist

As Wolffe approached the room, he could hear Cara laughing and Comet talking in a funny voice. He shook his head at their silliness, but the smile that crept onto his face probably looked just as silly. He loved hearing Cara laugh, even though he was never good at causing it. His wife was the one who did the tickling and the funny voices at bedtime that made her laugh until her sides hurt, not him. He just liked to watch and listen, however, hearing it now only made the hole in his heart grow bigger. It was another reminder of what he lost. Perhaps out of selfishness, Wolffe opened the door to interrupt the raucous laughter.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Cara yelled as she jumped off the bed and ran toward the door.

Wolffe smiled and bent over to hoist her up onto his hip and then gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Hey, baby. Did you have fun with Comet today?"

Cara nodded her head, eyes bright and crinkled with a wide grin. "Mhm. We went all over the place and, and we saw the tree!"

"Yeah?" Wolffe said, feigning a little surprise. "What'd you think? Was it like you imagined?"

Cara hummed. "It was smaller than I thought. Comet said there are planets with bigger trees."

"He's right," Wolffe said. "I've seen trees as big as buildings."

"Really?" Her eyes went wide with wonder.

"Yup. Some so high, you can't even see the tops."

"I want to see those!"

Wolffe chuckled. "Maybe someday."

"Why not now?" Cara whined.

Wolffe sighed and set Cara back down on the ground. "Because, I said so."

What was he supposed to say? Because he was fighting in a war and she wasn't allowed to come along? Or that she could get hurt or even die? His wife always told him there was no point in trying to reason with a child's logic because they'll always have another question buried among a thousand other questions, and a firm 'because I said so' was enough to get the job done. The other thing she taught him was to change the subject.

"Remember when you asked if you could come out with me this morning?" Wolffe asked.

Cara nodded.

"Want to come out with me tomorrow morning?"

Cara nodded with enthusiasm.

"Good," Wolffe said. "We're going to meet someone, so I want you on your best behavior."

"Who?" Cara asked.

Wolffe hesitated as he thought of what to say. "A… a new friend of daddy's. She'll be staying with us for a while."

Comet side-eyed Wolffe at the comment, but Wolffe glared back with a silent warning. Comet knew they were shipping out the next evening, and the wheels in his head were already turning about who this new friend could be. However, Comet also knew that Wolffe would kill him if he dared to mention their deployment to Cara before he did, so he kept his mouth shut, even though it ate him up on the inside.

"Will I like her?" Cara asked.

"I think so," Wolffe said. In truth, he had no information about the woman. He didn't know what her name was, what she looked like, who she was affiliated with, or what she was capable of, but he didn't have a choice at this point. It was either the mystery nanny or the mystery Jedi, and he'd rather take a chance on the mystery woman who Fox most likely already checked out. "She's a nanny."

"What's a nanny?" Cara asked.

"They help take care of children," Wolffe explained. The light huff that came from Comet did not go unnoticed and Wolffe turned his head to glare at the trooper with a sterner warning. This was hard enough as it was and he didn't need Comet breathing down his neck about how wrong it was to lie to his child. Without a single word, Comet rose from the bed and walked out of the room, visually perturbed and practically snarling out of Cara's view. Wolffe would deal with him later, but for now he still needed to convince Cara. "She's going to help me take care of you, like Mommy did."

Cara blinked, her face scrunching in thought. "Oh."

There was an awkward silence in the room and Wolffe didn't know how to fill it. He couldn't go into much more detail, or she might catch on that he was leaving, and now he didn't have Comet as back-up if he screwed up. She was a smart kid, after all, and was getting smarter every day.

"Will she be my new mommy?" Cara asked.

The innocent question punched Wolffe in the gut. The breath was sucked out of him to the point where he thought his lungs would never reinflate as images of his wife flashed across his mind, and in that split second, it felt like she died all over again. He knelt in front of Cara and shook his head. "No, baby. Mommy can't be replaced, ever." His voice quivered with emotions that he thought he was better at hiding. "Do you understand me? You're not getting a new mommy."

Cara frowned, eyes watering, but not a single tear fell. "Okay."

Wolffe took a deep breath to settle himself and then pulled Cara in for a hug. Another twisted tug-of-war was being fought between his mind and his heart. He desperately wanted to get away from everything that reminded him of his wife, including Cara, but he also desperately wanted to hold every last piece of her that he had left, which was Cara. It made him feel sick to want both at the same time, knowing that he could only have one at a time and both at the cost of the other.

"We're gonna be okay," Wolffe whispered, more for himself than for Cara. "I promise."

Cara tightened her embrace against Wolffe with little hands that used to be so tiny they couldn't even wrap around his finger. He'd give anything to have those cycles back, and he'd do it all differently. He wouldn't let his wife give birth alone, or miss birthdays and anniversaries, or miss Cara's growth markers or the doctor appointments. If he could go back, he would desert and start a new life somewhere far, far away from the GAR's reach, where he could take care of his family and enjoy them longer.

But that was why clones didn't get into romantic relationships, that was why clones didn't get married, and that was why clones didn't have babies, because that kind of life was never meant for a clone. Clones were bred for one purpose, and that was to serve the GAR from life until death with loyalty and honor. Love, peace, and happiness were never part of the original equation, and the loss of his wife was just proof that the galaxy hated him and his kind. He'd never be able to go back, and he may never be able to move forward. Only time would tell.

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[vaspider]

This is the last thing I'm going to post about this. Yes, reblogs are turned off. No, I am not tagging anyone's Tumblr or pointing you towards the people involved: I have them blocked. Do not go bother either one of them.

The Tumblr post I responded to earlier tonight went up before I read the actual response emails, because, well. They were sent while I was AFK, and then the Tumblr post containing Razz's response emails was tagged for me while I was, you know, not working. When I finally got to actually read the emails, I hit this line:

I bought the first heat pack during your sale and it said very explicitly in the emails that you guys would send a random one from your supply, no mention that customers needed to put something else in their cart.

Emphasis mine.

And at the point where someone's just fully making stuff up rather than admitting they fucked up, I'm done. So. In the name of my own sanity, I issued a full refund for this order, and:

Hi Razz,

Since you and your friend decided to take this conversation to Tumblr in the 3 or so hours I was AFK spending time with my partners, I hadn't actually gotten an opportunity to go back and read these emails. The first time I saw them was not in my inbox but idly scrolling Tumblr while petting my dog at 11 PM with your friend's, uh… commentary on them. Your assumption that I was condescending and calling you stupid rather than that I'm autistic and speak very precisely is very interesting, in context, and skipping over me saying 'I'm baffled' and 'I'm genuinely confused' to call that 'I think you're stupid' and all of the other really shitty commentary your friend put on those emails is… well, it's a choice. And at first I thought this must be someone out of pocket and white-knighting for you so I was not going to hold you to account for what they said, but then when I went to go block them, I saw your comments, and your posts, so. Yeah, that's fun and cute.

Anyway, the email absolutely did not "explicitly say" that we would be picking from our stock. What it said was, as follows:

"Emet just spent a week going through our entire stock of fabric, adding all of the new patterns & figuring out which designs must be discontinued since the fabrics can't be ordered anymore. She's got all of the closeout heat & cold packs prepped - ready to fill & ship - and you can get one of the discontinued prints FREE with the purchase of any regular-price heating pad, no code required! When they're gone, they're gone, so don't wait! Order by December 14th for domestic heat & cold pack delivery estimated by 12/24."

This section is followed by a selection of 9 New Heat & Cold Pack Patterns, labeled "New Heat & Cold Pack Patterns," followed by another section marked "Closeout Options!" which had 5 of the then 15-20 Closeout patterns, all labeled with CLOSEOUT at the front of the name.

After this was our legally-required footer with our mailing address and the unsubscribe link.

Nowhere in there does it explicitly say that we will be picking the item for you. In fact, it says "you can get one of the discontinued prints free," which would seem to imply you need to pick something.

I'm not sure why I should have assumed that sending you a screenshot would be something inaccessible to you when you… sent me a screenshot. Nobody said you were incompetent. Nobody said you were stupid. Nobody said blind people can't take screenshots. I mean, you took a screenshot of the email that you said explicitly said something it does not at all say, so clearly you personally can take a screenshot, and find that to be a useful tool in communicating. Why would I have thought that responding in kind would be something inaccessible to you? I haven't a clue, but what I do know is that my wife just walked downstairs after her full sleep cycle and said, "Is this still that person?" so … yeah.

I've refunded this order & closed your customer account. It's genuinely worth it to me at this point to lose the money so I never again have to deal with a person who chooses to try to tell me falsehoods about the content of an email that I just told you that I wrote. No further responses will be received by any of our staff.

Spider

I’m not going to waste more time reading paragraphs of you insulting me over not understanding your esoteric definition of closeout and deciding that a blind person can’t be blind if they can take a screenshot. I had a simple question, I practically resolved it myself, and between my first email and the next you leapt to conclusions and treated me like dirt for the crime of not having access to information you never provided in am accessible way.  I choose to speak with a trusted friend over the situation the same way you would speak to your own partners. it was up to them what they did with your own words. Whatever fallout comes of this is on you. I’ve made sure the blind community is aware of your discrimination and as far as I’m concerned that’s the end of this. I hope your shipping costs I never even asked about were worth the income you've lost from me and my extended community since that tiny amount of money appears to be all you care about. 

Razz T. 

Razz,

Go away.

[angeart]

im a bit late but- for the writer truth & dare ask game, how about 🍄? :3 and if i could sneak another one... 🧩 :>

hiii syn <33 you're not late at all!

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

something i've come to realise during one of my and link's discord hhau rambles is that to me, grian is demi. this means that between the two of them, scar's not only fallen first, but also realised it sooner.

and then we can kind of exacerbate this if we tack on grian's lack of relationship experience. where scar can swoop in with his knowledge of grand romantic gestures, moodlit homecooked dinners, and a solid understanding of what a date should look like, grian's completely new to this—unlike scar, he's never dated anyone before and has nothing to fall back on.

this all also means that scar's grian's first for many things, but grian isn't scar's. (but, as link points out, maybe grian isn't scar's first, but he's his best <3)

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

oh i'd say formatting. if it's one big blob and/or has multiple speakers in the same paragraph, i can't do it. it's a simple answer, but i assume content-wise i know what i'm going into (thanks to summary and ao3 tags), so it does largely boil down to writing style for me.

>> question from Writers Truth & Dare Ask Game

[notgonnaedit]

Confusing Feelings

summary: Mira struggles with her feelings, as does Hunter. Meanwhile, Althea thinks they're weird.

Warnings: none

A/n: this was a trade with @dreamsight73! Your OC is awesome and I love her!

The parlor was quiet, save for the soft hum of the music in the background. There had been no jobs for Clone Force 99 for almost a week. Even with Cid giving them everything she had, the team had nothing to do.

Althea sat at the bar, doodling aimlessly with her head resting on her arm. A familiar figure walked over and sat beside her. 

"You're a little young for the bar, wouldn't you say?" Mira asked.

Althea shot her a look. "You're, like, two years older than me," she huffed.

Mira rested her hand on her chest. "I'm actually ten years older than you, but it warms my heart that you think I'm younger."

Althea rolled her lamp-like eyes. "It's probably those potions you brew."

"They're poisons, Thea," the assassin corrected. 

The girl looked up at her. "I'ma medic. And how am I supposed to know what your poisons are if you won't teach me?"

The violet clad woman raised a brow. "Didn't you just say you were a medic?"

Althea huffed. "I still carry a blaster, don't I?"

Mira hummed softly. She knew little of Althea's past, but a girl her age should never have to fight for her life. She would know.  

",I don't know how you keep doing this, kid," a husky voice commented.

Mira was pulled from her thoughts and turned to see Hunter playing dejarik with Omega. The sergeant was losing every game, but he had a content smile on his face. His opponent was suppressing giggles, but was failing.

Hunter leaned back, hands on his knees. "I need a break from this thing."

"No! I'll go easy on you!" Omega practically begged.

A small chuckle escaped Hunter. "Alright, just give me a few minutes." He stood and ruffled the child's curls before walking over to the bar.

Mira's heart fluttered as she watched him. He exuded such confidence and leadership, yet he was always kind to the younger girls. She would never understand why he let her tag along with them, considering his protective nature, but she was grateful nonetheless.

"A little young to be at the bar, aren't you, kiddo?" Hunter asked, setting his hand on Althea's head.

The medic sat up. "Mira said the exact same thing." She huffed before muttering, "I swear, you guys deserve each other."

A nervous laugh left Mira's mouth before she could stop it. Althea looked at her, then at Hunter.

The sergeant had stiffened, and despite the black ink covering half his face, there was a faint red tint. Althea narrowed her eyes. She didn't know Mira too well, but she knew Hunter, and this was weird.

Omega had noticed it as well. She glanced between the sergeant and the assassin before her chocolate hues met Althea's bright ones.

"Riiiiight...." Althea slipped from her stool and moved between the two adults. "I'll just go and see if Tech needs help now."

The pilot had been repairing the ship from their last job with Echo. Wrecker was helping them with the heavy lifting as well.

"I'll go," Omega chimed in, standing to follow the older girl.

"I thought you wanted to play more?" Hunter asked her.

The blonde looked between Mira and her brother. "That's okay."

Great. Mira thought. Just when I couldn't feel any more awkward.

Once the two girls were outside, Althea looked at the younger. "That was weird, right?"

"Definitely!" She agreed. "Why was Hunter looking at her like that?"

Althea frowned. "I don't kn–" She stopped a sudden memory surfacing. "Oh no."

"What is it??" Omega pressed.

"Hunter was looking at her like how my dad would look at my mom." Althea grimaced and stuck her tongue out.

"Your parents?" Omega asked. "That means..."

"He likes her," Althea whispered.

Omega raised a brow. "But you can like people without it being...that. I like you." 

Althea shook her head. "No. He like likes her. Like ‘Lets get married’."

Omega scrunched her nose. "Ew."

"Yeah."

A beat of silence passed between the girls as they approached their ship. Althea put her hand on Omega's shoulder, stopping her. "We can't tell anyone."

"Why not?"

"If Hunter likes Mira but she doesn't like him, it'll break his heart. We can't let it get back to him that we know."

Omega hummed, nodding. Neither girl wanted to see Hunter hurt, so they made an unspoken pact.

Meanwhile, in Cid's parlor, Mira was trying to keep her cool. The girls had left her high and dry, leaving her with an incredibly attractive man she could barely exist around.

"So, they just left," she said in attempt to start conversation.

Hunter kept his gaze on the bar, refusing to meet hers. "Yep."

He always kept his cool during missions and jobs. He never got flustered, yet around Mira it was like he completely forgot how to act.

"Any idea on what the girls are up to?" She asked him.

The sergeant shrugged. "Thea mentioned helping the others on the ship. But I wouldn't be surprised if they found something else to occupy their minds."

"How would you feel about me teaching Althea about poisons?"

Hunter turned his gaze to the assassin before him. "What?"

It was Mira's turn to shrug. "She's been asking me about it lately, but I didn't want to infringe on any rules you had." Her heart rate kicked up. "I mean– I know you guys are close and I didn't want to take away time or anything..."

Hunter stared at the woman. She was asking permission to teach Althea about poisons because she didn't want to break rules or infringe on their relationship?? This had never happened before. Anyone else would have gone behind his back, including his brothers.

She stood there nervously, her beautiful brown eyes watching him warily. Of course she would do something unlike Hunter had ever heard of. She was unlike anyone he had ever met. 

His own heart rate kicked up a notch, his face flushing as he answered her.

"Yeah, I'd think that'd be great."​​​​​​​

[lavender-temult]

Calm in the eye of the storm

(Click for better quality)

[afterartist]

IVE DONE IT!! (not exactly sure what it is in this situation but it sure is done)

Rumble n Frenzy would bully screamer any chance they get

Soundwave on the other hand needs payed vacation because that man has to put up with so much crap

[eatingsomegreeneggos]

My uh- My hand slipped 🌟

[grichel]

i love gay friend groups

edit: i made a new side blog for genshin, follow me @neuvalors instead of here

[lucabyte]

you dream of devouring your friends whole

[slightly-sad-sloth]

It’s Halloween so you know what that means; ominous owl house art! (As always click for better quality)

COMMISSIONS OPEN | YouTube Video << speedpaint and I talk about details in the piece and stuff 👉👈