#5C white

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Graphic design is my passion

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Hello! Curious what you think of these two :) The fellow in the back is Spencer and the calico girl is Prim. This photo was taken seconds before they started wrestling again.

awwwww the cuties!!!

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can you genetic string my fancy boy Jinx? if not then just have some pictures of fancy boy (I’d try and get a picture of Suki (his sister) but she is literally a scaredy cat)(and yes she’s named after the ATLA character)

awww cute!

(in case you guys havent noticed yet i love when you send me your kibbies :3)

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i just wanted to show you my cats.

awwwww cute!!!

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:3

[purplecoffee13]

Nerdrry - office crush part two*

Part 1 here!

Wc: 2.2k

Warnings: light smut, f!ngering, teeny tiny bit of dirty talk

A/N: Hello everyone, here is a part two of the nerdrry blurb I wrote a while back. I kept imagining those two on a first date, and I decided to write it down. Also THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD so sorry if there are mistakes😙

Enjoy!

General Masterlist

Harry could've thrown up from the anxiety that was rushing through his body as he stood in the elevator, waiting to be brought up to the fifth floor, to Y/N's apartment.

To their date.

Was it a date? He wasn't sure, still. From the way Y/N had asked him, and the faint blush on her cheek every time he would allude to the Friday night, he thought he could positively confirm that it was, in fact, a date. Harry let out a tired sigh, slightly shaking his head to clear his thoughts.

No, never mind if this was a date or not, he was going to make it one anyway. He promised himself to make a move tonight, to go for what he wanted instead of nervously standing by and hoping to be chosen. He liked Y/N so much, and if there was even the slightest chance that she liked him back... well, he wouldn't be able to live with his moronic self if he'd never try and find that out.

The hallway was silent as he walked up to apartment 5C, the only sound coming from his sneakers patting against the ground with each step he took, and his bag that crinkled. He'd brought a lot of snacks, maybe too many, but he simply couldn't choose.

Standing in front of her door, Harry allowed himself to breathe in and out once more before knocking on the door. He heard some distant shuffling and the sound of a rattling lock, but in no time the door opened and a smiling Y/N stood in front of him.

The smell of vanilla hit his nostrils in the short time it took him to raise his brows at the sight of her and conjure a smile of his own. The warmth radiating from the apartment was comforting, and it reflected Y/N perfectly. She, too, radiated this kind of ease.

"Come in!" She said cheerily as she stepped aside, allowing Harry to enter her home. He looked around, eyes wide in wonder at how fitting this apartment was for her; he felt like he was looking into her mind.

Posters, art and photographs decorated the white walls; a clear alternative for painting them, something he imagined her landlord wouldn't let her do. She had a colorful rug and a green couch that he'd always found cool but was too insecure to buy. Harry would always consider everything thrice before making a decision, and sometimes he wished he was a little more careless. To just buy something because he thought it was pretty, not because it was necessarily convenient. Have a little more fun from time to time. He could learn from Y/N.

"You have a great apartment." Harry noted, not being able to articulate his thoughts more elaborately. Y/N peeped a soft thanks, slowly peeling the bag with snacks from his hands and putting it on top of the kitchen counter. Harry followed her steps, biting his lip to refrain from grinning like an idiot at her curious face scanning all the products he'd brought along.

"Oh, I love chocolate chip cookies! I forgot to buy them, and I was so sad because the shop had already closed." She beamed, holding the box up like it was some sort of prized possession. Harry stood there, his stomach fluttering so intensely that he felt he might get dizzy, but nothing about that feeling was scary, not like it was before. These feelings could make him floaty all they wanted, she made him feel grounded anyway.

After investigating every snack that was in the bag, Y/N carried—or tried to—everything to the coffee table, where a mountain of snacks already resided. Harry quirked up his brow.

"I thought we said I would take care of the snacks." He said, sitting down and looking at Y/N for clarity. She swallowed.

"Well— yeah, but I just... I was at the store anyway, so."

Harry was stunned. Was she nervous, around him? He could've laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. Here he was, stressing about this girl and whether she would ever give him the light of day, and now she was tripping over her words like he was the one who needed to be impressed, and not the other way around.

He hummed at the girl's wobbly answer, and mainly let Y/N talk as she plopped next to him and put on the documentary.

Harry didn't know why he thought it would be awkward to watch a documentary together. Sure, it might be if he went on a date with a boring person, but not with Y/N. She was constantly throwing in facts, referring to the 1997 Titanic movie, or noting how delicious the snacks were. There were plenty of silences, but they weren't dull.

About twenty—almost thirty minutes in—is when it all changed, for Harry at least. Y/N had been shuffling in her seat for the past five minutes, but he'd kept surprisingly still. Harry had no idea how to handle this whole 'making a move while watching a movie' thing that quite literally every guy on the planet seemed to have down.

She finally changed positions, leaning against the armrest of the couch and stretching her legs, right over Harry's lap. He stiffened slightly in those first two seconds, shocked at the fact that she threw her legs on him so casually. His eyes flicked back and forth between her face and her legs, but she didn't acknowledge her action and kept on watching the movie instead. Harry decided to do the same.

And so, casually, he began tracing mindless figures on her upper thigh. He swore that there was electricity in his fingertips as they grazed over the material of her leggings, and he tried his hardest to keep his eyes on the TV screen in front of him.

When the end of the documentary rolled around, Harry finally allowed himself to look at Y/N, whose eyes were already on him. He didn't stop the movements of his fingers, hoping to see a trace of its effect on her face. The corner of his mouth lifted when he saw it. She was flushed.

"I'm going to the bathroom." She announced, very suddenly, and pulled her legs away before hurrying off into her hallway. Harry's heart was racing, he needed to do something. He drank a few gulps of his water and set the glass down as he gave himself a mental pep talk.

When Y/N returned and tried to walk past Harry to sit down again, he grabbed her wrist before she had the chance to go anywhere. His head turned slowly, looking up at her confused face.

"I like you." Harry blurted out, feeling a sense of relief as he said it out loud. Such relief was short lived, though, when he noticed the crease between Y/N'a eyebrows deepen.

"I'm sorry, I'm not... very good at this whole small talk, subtle hints kind of thing. I just— I like you, and I'm really hoping that this was a date. And if it's not, I hope you'll let me take you on one." He confessed, grateful to get it off his chest. The frown on her face slowly faded, and a dimple appeared as Y/N began to smile. The floaty feeling was back, sure to knock him off his feet if he were to stand up.

"You're such a dork, of course this is a date." She teased, letting Harry intertwine his fingers with hers. "And I like you too."

Harry raised his brows, and slowly got up to stand, towering over Y/N by a landslide. Her eyes widened ever so slightly, the height difference throwing her off guard.

"Yeah? You do?" He asked, needing to make sure he hadn't dreamed the answer that had left her mouth. Harry's voice was raspier, heavier than just a few seconds ago. His need for her was weighing down on him; he couldn't hold it in anymore.

When Y/N nodded, he swore he could've exploded right then and there. Nothing was holding him back anymore, no insecurities or uncertainties. There was only the soul crushing urge to touch her and to never stop.

It entirely possessed him as he leaned forward, grabbing her face and planting his lips on hers. Carefully, but with a sense of haste that could only come from the carefully restrained crush he'd had on her. He never thought he'd be able to do this, to have her lips on his like this, to slide his tongue in and taste every corner of her mouth as her arms wrapped around his neck, getting as close to him as she could. He felt her relief in the way she moved.

Y/N broke away from the kiss, her eyes still on Harry's lips before she slowly dragged her eyes up to meet his. The moment they did, Harry knew he was a goner. Something inside of him unleashed, washing away any doubt whatsoever the moment her lips touched his. Enough for him not to think twice about leaning in and planting his mouth on hers again. Grabbing her jaw with one hand, he pulled her closer to him, her body immediately following.

Harry could feel his jeans start to strain as he slipped in his tongue and she allowed him to do so. Burying him back into the couch, Y/N climbed on top of him, her hips mindlessly starting to move against him. It was slow, torturous, and needy.

His hands had slowly traveled to her hips, guiding them along as she ground against him. Harry groaned. He needed her as close as possible; this crush of him was possessing him entirely. It was hard not to fall apart at the way she whined when he took his lips off of hers, but Harry pulled away nonetheless.

He grabbed her hips and directed her until she was sitting on his right thigh. Looking up at her in silence, he slowly guided his own hand towards the black sweatpants she was wearing. She gasped when his fingers tugged at her underwear, glancing down in anticipation. Harry only kept his eyes on Y/N, drinking in her every reaction to his touch. He could drown in it for all her cared.

“Is that okay?” He asked, voice horse from the thick tension that hung between them. Nodding vigorously, Y/N brows creased in an inpatient frown.

“Yes, please—” She breathed out. Harry let out an absentminded hum, indicating for her to specify. She met his unwavering stare, a deep sense of frustration in her eyes, probably at the casualness with which he addressed her plea. Harry’s cock twitched.

“Touch me, please.”

Not wasting any more time, Harry immediately obeyed Y/N’s wishes and stuck his fingers between her panties. A moan fell from her lips the second his cold finger touched her heat, her relief shown in the way her shoulders slumped slightly.

Slowly, he began circling her clit, just to get her started. But he couldn’t ignore the slickness that coated his hands, and he felt his ego grow at the realization that she had been tremendously wet already.

“Shit, you’ve soaked my fingers already. That’ll make it easy to…” He said, sliding his fingers into her before he could even both to finish his sentence. She was so wet they slipped inside with ease. His erection grew even more painful when she mewled in pleasure and began to grind herself on his fingers, and his thigh. Y/N was a sight for sore eyes with the way her body moved. Jaw slack as she stimulated her most sensitive parts with Harry’s hand.

From the way her breaths were getting shorter, he could tell she was getting close to her climax already. Her brows curled upwards, and she spoke like it cost her all her energy.

“Please don’t stop.” She let out an exhausted, exhilarated whine. She was slowing down, despite how near her climax was. Harry looked down, seeing her trembling thighs. Her legs had gone a bit tired, he figured. Poor thing, she wanted it so bad.

Taking pity, Harry revved up the movements of his hand, fingering her at a much faster pace than Y/N had been able to create. She leaped forward in shock, the sudden intensity bringing her closer with each high pitched shriek that escaped her.

“There you go, that’s it.” He encouraged her, running out of breath himself. Harry felt like his ears were ringing when she pulsated around his fingers, her climax nearly made him come. But he managed to keep it together as she convulsed around him. Her head buried in his shoulders made for a muffled string of moans, and his heart fluttered at the mention of his name a couple of times. All while her pussy coated his hand with the aftermath of her orgasm.

They stayed like that, for a little while at least. Harry stroked Y/N’s hair while she came down from the high, hands clung to his shoulders as she tried to steady her heartbeat. There was no indication that Y/N’s head was going to be lifted from his shoulders anytime soon, and as he waited, he found that he didn’t care for it at all. With her in his arms like this he could stay on that couch forever…

General taglist: @mema10

[what-is-that-cats-genetic-string]

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Stray cat breaks into Lynx’s enclosure at zoo

(Source)

[yoonkinii]

How y♡u first met Sukuna!

Warning(s): None Requests open! (only for this AU) Masterlist (check for more AU content here!)

Life feels like a dull melody, endlessly looping without change. Each day blurs into the next: wake up, attend college classes until your brain can’t take it, work until your feet throb, return home to study and work some more, then catch a few fleeting hours of sleep. The cycle repeats over and over again, with only minor changes being added to the never-ending routine. 

The air of the store is frigid as you reorganize the frozen food, red vest covering your white long-sleeve uniform shirt. THe fabric irritates your skin, causing an incessant itch, but you had to endure it, knowing that wearing anything else would beckon the wrath of your shift manager. 

Your fingers ache, tinged a faint red from the freezer’s chill. You could have finished a lot sooner were it not for the haphazardly thrown boxes of frozen food, which you have to constantly rearrange in order for them to be in the right places. Every time you thought you were done, another misplaced container catches your eyes, prolonging the task. 

Letting the magnetic door shut with a soft thud, you sighed, shoulder aching from the relentless task of lifting and moving items. Stepping back, you inspected the freezer for any remaining misplaced containers. A wave of relief washing over you when none were in sight. 

“Um, excuse me?”

You turned to the voice beside you, the well-practiced customer service smile automatically appearing on your face. 

“Yes! How may I help you?” 

Your tone was cheerful as you clasped your hands in front of you, looking at the customer. He wore an unfamiliar school uniform, dark blue pants and a button-up sweater with a red hoodie-like trim. It was clear he was in high school based on his attire. His hair, an unusual color cut into an undercut, caught your attention.

He must dye it, you mused, maintaining your smile. As you observe him, you also notice two matching, almost triangular slits under both of his eyes. Perhaps scars or birthmarks? It wasn’t your place to know, so you quickly pushed those thoughts aside. 

“Oh, I was just wondering where the canned sodas were.”

Your mind instantly mapped out the store’s layout, a skill honed from countless hours of restocking. 

“Those are in aisle 5C. I’d be happy to take you there if you’d like.”

The boy’s smile could rival the sun as he nodded eagerly, showering you with ‘thank you’s’ for your help.

That’s how you found yourself in the drink aisle, having an interesting discussion with the young man.

“Yes, but wouldn’t you say Dr. Pepper is better than just plain Cola?”

You hummed in thought, eyeing the vast array of soda crates lining the shelves. “While Dr. Pepper is good, if you’re bringing it to a class party, wouldn’t you want more variety? For example,” ou bent down and pulled out a certain crate of coke. “This pack has a variety of flavors, and some people can’t stand the taste of Dr. Pepper. Are you sure everyone in your class likes it?”

The young boy was silent for a moment, now crouched beside you as he examined the crate. “You have a point.”

“Yuji, what the hell are you doing? I sent you in to get drinks for your class like ten minutes ago.”

Both you and the boy, now known as Yuji, snapped your heads up at the sound of another voice. Yuji stood up immediately, turning to face the source of the interruption. 

“Sorry, Uncle. I was having a hard time deciding,” Yuji apologized, scratching the back of his head. 

You grabbed the crate of soda you had recommended and stood beside Yuji, finally getting a look at the man who had spoken. Suddenly, a loud crash resonated through the aisle as the crate of sodas slipped out of your grasp and landed on your foot, eliciting a string of curses. 

“Oh my God! Are you okay?” Yuji’s voice echoed in your head as you kneeled, cradling your throbbing foot.

Oh my God, he was stunningly handsome. Not Yuji, but the resemblance was clear. Yuji’s uncle, whoever he was, was breathtakingly beautiful, and you had just embarrassed yourself in front of him. He easily stood over six feet tall, towering over his nephew. While Yuji shared similar features, his uncle’s were sharper and more defined by age. Intricate face tattoos adorned his skin, accompanied by two slits in both of his brows, a barbell piercing through his left brow. His hair, styled similarly to Yuji’s, appeared to be its natural, unique color. 

Maybe it wasn’t dyed after all. 

He looked every bit of a high school troublemaker. His ears were pierced with gauges and several piercings lined his helix. Tattoos, similar to the ones on his face, trailed down his neck and beneath the collar of his sweatshirt. His hands were casually shoved into his jean pockets as he quirked up a brow of annoyance. 

Mentally scolding yourself, you stood up and bowed at the waist. “I am so sorry. The crate slipped from my hands.:

“No, no! It’s okay, really. Are you sure that you’re alright?”

Yuji’s voice carried concern, his brow furrowed as you regained your full height. There was no way in hell that you would admit that his uncle had been the real reason you dropped the crate. 

You tensed as Yuji’s uncle shifted, sidestepping you to bend down behind you. He held up a new crate in his hand. “Let’s go. You’re already wasting my time, kid.”

Yuji nodded briskly, taking the crate from his uncle’s hand and hurrying towards the front of the store. Swallowing hard, you glanced at the man beside you. His eyes met yours, almost making you jump out of your skin. Quickly looking away, you stared at the floor in silence.

“Sorry if my nephew bothered you at all.” His voice, velvety smooth, resonated through the aisle. 

“What?” You blinked, turning to face him. “Oh no! He wasn’t a bother at all.”

Your heart thundered. His eyes—a deep maroon that gleamed in the light—captivated you. Did Yuji share the same trait? You couldn’t remember. 

He arched a brow, seemingly unconvinced by your response, before walking away and disappearing from view. As he departed, you visibly relaxed, leaning against the shelf for support. Your hands rose to cradle your heated face.

God, who knew someone could make face tattoos look so hot?

[what-is-that-cats-genetic-string]

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[caelwynn]

First Lines Tag Game

Thanks to both @annetastic1981a and @f0xofspades for tagging me on this one! :-D

rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fics (or whatever you got going on) and tag however many writers you want. if you've written fewer than ten, share anyway :))

No Pressure tags for @5cs-fanart-and-misc, @exoticlittlebird, @folatefangirl, @pansypinetree, and @aziminohi1992

Red = Explicit Yellow = Teen Green = Gen White = WiP

1. Changes: Transitions

“You found it,” marveled Qi. He knew they had—as if he’d pass up the opportunity to observe them at work—but he’d still expected something to prevent them from delivering it. Gloved hands carefully set the package upon his desk. “I did,” said Mateo.

2. Moonlight

The first time Jade explored a cave, Daddy held her hand. “Stick close, little star." “Okay!” Jade was too little to go with Daddy into the mines. Mr. Marlon refused to let anyone go in until they could use a sword, and he also refused to train anyone until they turned eighteen (though, Owen and Luke had moved from practicing with their plastic laser swords to sparring with wooden swords. They thought no one else knew, but little sisters are good at finding things out). But there were lots of other caves in the valley! Daddy sometimes joked they magically appeared from season to season.

3. Grease Monkey

Damn, but Callie loved watching Sterling work. The open garage door acted like a proscenium arch, framing him and the towering tractor as though the curtains had just opened on a play. Three incandescent lamps above the workbench dramatically spilled light across the concrete floor. A dozen or more moths flittered above his head, casting odd, flickering shadows reminiscent of firelight. The rototiller laid on its back atop the bench as Sterling finished replacing the broken blades. Black streaks stained his hands and forearms, drawing her gaze to them as surely as the lights above drew the moths. His nimble fingers moved swiftly, tightening a series of bolts before he finished wrenching them down. Yoba, even with how she ached from the day’s work, she’d love nothing more than to trade places with that rototiller just then.

4. Heartsong

Sunlight slipped through the curtains, gently caressing over their bodies, intertwined within the confines of their bed. It crept slowly—ever so delicately—up the quilt, the cool sheets, the bare chests, until it could finally rest upon Lance’s face, illuminating his tanned skin and making his magenta hair glint. He grimaced. Warm. Lance felt… warm? An usual experience in the heart of winter—at least while they slept.

5. Gravediggers

Yuuma had a mission. He fled the library as soon as Miss Penny released them. Shiro would be done with his appointment in a half-hour, and he had to walk all the way across town. But he had a stop to make before he met his brother.

6. Traditions

“Arrrgh! That stupid electric mouse!” growled Abigail as she tossed her controller down. “You break that controller, you’re buying its replacement,” Sebastian threatened, though he’d lost any heat behind those words five controllers ago. Abigail had never broken her habit of throwing the blasted things, but she also never failed to replace them. Sam strongly suspected she kept several ‘just in case’ in a closet somewhere.

7. Hearth and Home

“Good afternoon, Marnie,” said Marlon, unable to help a small smile upon laying his eye on her. She’d ever been a pretty lass, and the years had only made her grow more beautiful, not less.

8. Perspective

“Hi, Haley. Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Haley blinked, staring at the pretty artist. Even though she and Leah had spent more and more time together as Summer turned to Fall, she’d never randomly turned up on her doorstep before—strands of ginger hair glinting in the sunlight, blue-gray eyes sparkling merrily, lips curved in a kissable lovely smile.

9. Luck Be a Lady

Flipping over his cards for the others to see, Sterling smirked, “Full house!” Groans erupted around the table as he showed his cards. Three other men tossed their hands to the next dealer as Sterling raked in his winnings; the gorgeous gal to his left merely shook her head. He’d played just well enough to win one hand in four—enough to stay in the game but hopefully not rouse suspicions.

10. Kalliope

June swears you’re a ghost; one that’s haunted him all of his life. Without fail, you come to watch June perform, watch as his fingers elicit exquisite music from piano after piano after piano. Recitals, concerts, gigs in little basements or the hottest clubs, you never miss a performance. Always, you sit just at the farthest periphery of his vision. Whenever he turns to look straight at you, though, you vanish.

(I hadn't realized I'd put out enough one-shots to knock Choices off the list O_O)

[simverses]

TSM Floor Batch 5c Even more Marble

More floors from TSM - The Sims Medieval!

Another five sets of Marble floors - Four-Sizes-In-One each of them.

Four-Sizes-In-One means that you can find them all under the same floor in the game catalog - you can see in game that there are 4 x number of swatches, so each color has 4 pattern size options.

Mix and match, make decorative floors anywhere! Medieval but can really be used in all eras, timeless!

Note: Each floor has other swatches - even if called for example "red". There is always a white and a black swatch.

TSM Floor Marble Flagstone Download (Curseforge)

TSM Floor Marble Dark Pink Download (Curseforge)

TSM Floor Marble Dark Pink Tiled Download (Curseforge)

TSM Floor Marble Red Veins Download (Curseforge)

TSM Floor Marble Red Download (Curseforge)

[what-is-that-cats-genetic-string]

[C][SS][LL][OOFF2][YYTT][YY5C]

i bet it feels so good if you're a little cat to put your head upside down like that

[scarletjedi]

My wife has learned that she likes mushrooms, actually, and is now on a quest to find tasty mushroom foods to cook. This time, she chose risotto, and made a black garlic truffle mushroom risotto.

It is *heavenly*

Don’t worry. I’ll share:

Mushroom risotto with truffle and black garlic

1.5 c rice (Arborio rice. It makes a difference. You want short grain/high starch)

.5 c dry white wine (we used Pinot Grigio, but you can get alcohol free or leave it out entirely if you need).

6 cups roasted duck stock (okay, we roasted a duck for her birthday dinner and I made stock. Use chicken broth, it’s fine. Or, to make it vegetarian, veggie broth.)

6 slices thick cut bacon (or bacon alternative) cut into bite sized pieces.

5 small heads black garlic (she got hers for Christmas, but you can find it easily online if there isn’t an Asian food market near you. If you only find the big garlic, do half, maybe 1 bulb to taste)

I wedge truffle goat cheese (we wanted the truffle cheddar from Aldi, but this is what shop rite had. Trader Joe’s also has truffle cheese from time to time.)

30 oz mushrooms, sliced

4tbsp salted butter

2 shallots

Chives, parsley, basil

Salt and pepper to taste

Put the broth in a separate pot over low heat to warm through. Slice bacon into small pieces and Cook bacon. Cook mushrooms in bacon fat. (Or butter/fat of choice). Set aside with liquid (if you put the mushrooms over the spiced black garlic, it helps it steep together and begin to blend). Over medium heat, Sauté shallots in olive oil, and rice and toast, 2 min or until changed in color, then add wine and stir until absorbed. add broth .5c at a time, stirring constantly until absorbed before the next ladle. (Tip from my wife: if you pull the spoon through it no liquid should rush into the new space) , until cooked. Rice should be slightly al dente (some chew, no crunch). Remove from heat. Add in toppings. (Bacon/mushrooms/herbs/butter)

Technically you’re supposed to add the cheese at the end but we found it didn’t melt very well so adding it earlier might make it creamier. Also, shred it, don’t dice it.

Reheat with broth or water for consistency, or ball, bread, and fry for arincici.

This made a lot of risotto- like, serves 6 easily. It’s filling. If you’re cooking for yourself and don’t want to many leftovers, try halving it.

Happy munchings!

[verybadatwriting]

Blood and Marrow

Summary: Reader is the child of a hard-working single mother and a long-forgotten one night stand. One day the consequences of their father's identity catches up to the Reader

Warnings: Imprisonment, needles, improper conditions for prisoners, bone marrow stealing, surgery without anesthetic, torture essentially, kidnapping, in-world curse word, parental death, iv’s

Notes: It’s a little slow to get started, but whatever.

Gn!reader, Fett!reader

Word count: 4030

The whispering streets sped by as the train picked up speed. Another day was done, you and your mother were finally on your way home. Even though today wasn’t the longest she’d ever had to stay at work, it sure felt like it. All but two cooks and half the servers got food poisoning, so you had to help out. Normally you got to sit in the corner and do your schoolwork, instead you were ferrying meals and dishes back and forth between the kitchen and customers. 

Your mom had been working here since before you were born, so it was like a second home to you. A dirty, noisy home, full of strangers, but a home nonetheless. When you were a baby your mom would park you in a corner with some toys and just keep half an eye on you while she worked. 

That corner became your spot, permanently. Everyone knew not to seat customers there, except on the days you worked. Today it was occupied by an elderly Mon Calamari couple. They ordered crab-stuffed cream puffs, and complained that they had too much crab, and not enough stuffing. You tried explaining that it’s stuffed with crab, so the crab is the stuffing, but they were firm. 

Eventually you just took the puffs back to the kitchen, waited a few minutes, and came back out with the same plate. This time they were “absolutely perfect” and they asked why “You didn’t make them like this the first time?”

Putting on your best customer service face you simply smiled and told them to enjoy their meal. 

“What I really wanted to tell them,” You said to your mom, “Was that they looked like a bunch of shriveled up–”

“Alright!” She interrupted sternly, “That’s quite enough.” She tried giving you her signature ‘mom-glare’ but you could see a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

The train ground to a halt at stop G17, and you disembarked. This was the worst part of the commute; strolling through the slums. Ever since you were little you had hated your neighborhood. The neon lights and bottles strewn about, the clusters of people who never seemed to disperse or do anything other than stand around. 

About two years ago things got really bad after a rough batch of layoffs, and the standing around turned to rioting. Rioting turned to looting, which turned to robberies. You and your mother hid in the bathroom as men ransacked your apartment. Crashes rattled the ground as they tossed through dressers and drawers looking for valuables.

They were about to open the bathroom door when an authoritative voice ordered them to put their hands up. Obviously they didn’t obey, and the sounds of fighting erupted. An electric zapping sound buzzed and the robbers thunked to the ground.

“Apartment building 5C clear.” The man said. 

“Wait– scratch that.” Said another, identical voice. “One room left.” The door slowly opened, and the man pointed a flashlight inside. He didn’t wear the uniform of the Coruscant Underworld Police, instead his armor was mostly white with red accents. He lowered his stun baton when the light passed over the scared forms of you and your mother. 

“Now apartment building 5C is clear.” He said into his com, then to your mother, “Are you hurt?”

“No.” She said, “We’re fine.”

“Thorn,” The other trooper called into the bathroom. “We’ve gotta get moving. Stone needs help with the riots to the west. Latest reports say three dead.”

The troopers arrested the robbers and quickly left, leaving you and your mom alone in your completely trashed apartment. It took hours to clean it all up. Even longer to even start to feel safe again.

Now, as you finally slid off your shoes and settled down on your bed, you felt a little safe. The doors were locked and bolted. In the past two years nobody else broke in, and things were calm enough. 

“Try to catch some sleep, Y/n,” Your mom poked her head into your room. 

“Mhm.” You nodded, “I’ve just gotta finish up some homework. I promise I’ll be in bed by one.”

“That’s my kid.” Your mom went to the joint living/dining room and spread a blanket on the couch. She laid there, and you listened to her breathing slowly steady as she drifted off to sleep. 

Your blinks got longer and longer until you set aside the work and stilus to finally sleep. Just like you promised, it was a few minutes before one. What felt like a moment later, you woke up with a start. 

At first, you couldn’t tell what woke you, but then you heard footsteps clanking in the living room. They stopped again, and you heard a brief, muffled yell from your mother. The clanking started again, and seconds later, a tall metallic figure stood in your doorway. It approached, and pressed a cloth over your mouth and nose. The world went fuzzy and then dark as you clawed at the metal arm.

Some time later, you’re not quite sure how long, you woke up with a splitting headache. You tried to rub your eyes, but found your arms were immobile. The room spun around as you reoriented yourself. At first you thought you were lying on your back, but in reality you were hanging from the ceiling by two shackles on your wrists. Your feet barely brushed the floor, so all your weight was pulling down on your arms.

Your eyes slowly acclimated to the darkness around you. The walls were slick durasteel. The floor was metal as well, but slightly slanted towards a small, round drain in the center. Layers of old, dried crud that no one had bothered to clean up streaked toward it.

As you just hung there, breathing heavily because of a stabbing pain in your sternum. You also had a stabbing, unending pain in your head. Before all of this had time to fully register, the door slid open, a blinding light was turned on, and a Skakoan man entered. His dark blue robes draped loosely from his hissing pressure suit. Tubes reached from his neck plate to the upper chest plate, which featured nozzles and ports. The metal caught the light and glinted.

Closely after him, a 2-1B surgical droid followed. The shiny metal of its body was all straight lines and perfect curves. The ends of its arms were equipped with tools; tools you couldn't even imagine the purpose of. Its lifeless, glowing eyes stared through you. 

“Shall we begin, Emir Tambor?” It asked, holding up a container.

“Of course.” 

Tambor took the box from the droid, opened it, and removed a long, sharp needle. There was a clear collection area at the base. He sterilized the instrument. The droid, meanwhile, was approaching you. It was holding a bottle of disinfectant, which it sprayed onto your right hip after moving aside the clothing that was in the way. Your skin rose with goosebumps at the cold. 

The Skakoan approached, holding a scalpel. Slowly it was pressed into your side, through layers of skin, then muscle. Then it held back the layers of muscle while Tambor raised a drill and pushed it through the exterior of your bone. Your chest tightened in pain. You bit your tongue. You tasted blood in your mouth from biting too hard, while more trickled down your leg.

“Syringe.” Tambor said as he removed the drill and held out his gloved hand to the droid. It glinted against the harsh light as it passed between them. It plunged into the freshly-drilled hole in your bone and into the squishy marrow. The container at the end slowly filled with a dark red liquid. Darker than blood. 

“Suture,” The droid said, holding out a tool to the Skakoan scientist.

“You deal with that. I have what I need; 18.44 precious ounces of bone marrow.” Tambor started towards the door, cradling the container like it was worth more than a hundred kyber crystals. The door slid closed behind him, leaving only you and the dead-eyed droid. 

Finally, you allowed a sob to rip through your chest. Your chest heaved as you drew a shuddering breath, then devolved back into tears. The sound echoed off the shadowy walls. When Tambor left, the overhead lights turned off automatically, plunging the room into near complete darkness. Only the droid’s glowing eyes provided light. Even then, they were fixed at patching up the mess that was your hip.

“It would assist me if you could stay still,” It said.

For the next few minutes you tried to think of anything else than the metal digits nimbly stitching up your flesh. Where were you? Why are they doing this? Who is ‘they’? Did they kidnap your mom, too?

The thought of your mom hanging from her wrists in some dark cell, just as you were, was enough to make you cry again. The droid whirred disapprovingly. You stifled them as best you could. 

It was almost over. The droid just had to finish stitching together the final layer of muscle, and apply a bacta patch. It never got the chance, because the door blew open, and a few clone troopers marched in, guns blazing. They shot down the surgery droid the moment they saw it. Behind them, you saw a half dozen more blue -armored soldiers in the hall.

“This one’s alive,” called out the one nearest to you, “Kix, get over here!”

“Can you hear me?” The medic asked, opening his kit. 

You nodded.

“This is gonna sting a little,” He said, pressing a bacta patch over your still bleeding hip. The sting was the least of your worries. Even that slight amount of pressure was enough to make you gasp in pain.

“You’re okay,” Kix said reassuringly to you, then he barked at his brothers to unfasten the chains holding you up. Almost immediately, they snapped the right chain and all your weight swung onto the other arm. Kix put his arm under your shoulders, and held you up while one of his brothers worked at undoing the second manacle. 

“Can you walk?” Kix asked once his brother had freed you. You tried putting a little weight on your leg, but couldn’t manage it. Your other leg nearly buckled, and only Kix’s arm kept you standing.

“No.” You hissed through clenched teeth. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” He said, “What’s your name?”

“Y/n,” You answered.

“We’re going to take you to our ship, Y/n,” He said, “You’ll be on the first flight out of here.��� 

“Mhmm.” You said, the blood loss making you a bit woozy. Your head lolled to the side, and rested against Kix’s shoulder.

“Kix,” one of the soldiers said. His helmet had a blue downwards-pointing arrow, and a smaller red triangle above that. His armor was battered, just like the rest of them. The paint was worn away in places. 

“This area still isn’t secured. They’ll have to wait to be evacuated.”

“They can’t wait,” Kix replied, “Look at that, Dogma” he pointed to a puddle of your blood on the floor, “Look at it. They’ve lost too much blood already. We’re getting them out, now.”

After a moment of thoughtfully looking at the blood he nodded and said, “We’ll cover you.” Then he spoke into his comm, “Civilian evac needed. Be ready to provide cover fire.”

“Hear that?” Kix asked you. “We’ll get you out of here.”

“Hardcase, and Dogma, on my mark,” came a voice over the comms a moment later. “Three… Two… One!”

Dogma leaned out of the door and chucked a grenade up the hallway, and at the same time, another clone did the same thing from a room across the hall. They both ducked back inside, and covered their ears as two small explosions shook the walls. 

One soldier with pale blue stripes on his armor jumped out into the corridor with a 6-Z rotary cannon and started firing massive sprays of blaster bolts towards the droids. At the same time, Kix shifted to carry most of your weight, and started running towards the turbolift at the opposite end of the hall. 

The whole escape was a bit of a blur. The hallway was one long, straight passage from the room you were being held in to the lift. Unfortunately, that meant there was barely any cover. Even with the clones mowing down rows of droids, a few bolts still sailed down the hall towards you. It was so loud.

But the noise stopped suddenly once you saw into one of the other rooms. Everything stopped. The world stopped. Maybe even the whole galaxy. 

In that room, one identical to the one you had been held in, hung a woman. Her wrists were bound in chains, her head hung limply. Her clothes were bloodsoaked. Worst of all, she was absolutely still.

Nothing – not the pain in your leg, not the slicing scalpel tearing flesh, not the needle siphoning marrow – no, nothing could ever come close to the pain of seeing her like that, and knowing she was gone.

You felt Kix tug you forward, ripping you back to reality where everything was moving and there was no time to mourn. Before you knew it, the two of you were in the elevator. The smooth doors slid closed, drowning out the sounds of battle.

Through the curved window, you could see you were on an asteroid. The rocky barren landscape was littered with ships, troops, and the flashes of blaster fire. It looked like the Republic was taking the whole place.

“We’re almost there,” Kix said softly. “In the transport there’s an IM-6 medical droid that will take good care of you. You’re gonna be okay, kid.”

Finally, you reached the roof. Three low-altitude transports awaited you. You rushed to the closest one, Kix pulled down an emergency cot at the back, and set you down. He had to go back to the fight, but he dosed you with something first. It made the world fuzzy. Your pain dulled.

You barely even registered the little floating droid working diligently on your leg and your chest. Kix came back twice, both times half-carrying one of his wounded brothers. He set up the other two cots for them as the droid floated over to assist.

Not too long later, the transport started to fill up with soldiers. They were tired, but not completely exhausted. They quietly cracked jokes to one another, despite injuries.

The doors slid closed, the ship started rumbling, then flying. 

Kix stood in the back, near the cots, to assess his brothers. Once they were situated, he squatted down next to you.

“It’s been a little while,” He said, quietly. “How’re you holding up?”

“It still hurts,” You said, “But the meds help.”

“Good,” He nodded. “Is there someone you want us to contact, tell them you’re alright?”

You gained a faraway stare and paused as your eyes welled up.  

“Were there any other survivors?” You asked, dreading the answer.

“There were not.”

“No, then,” You said, voice perilously close to cracking. “I only ever had my mom, and as of today, she’s dead.” 

You reached up and wiped the tears from your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Where do you live?”

“Coruscant,” You said. “But I don't have anywhere to go. I’ll be put in foster care till I age out, then I’ll just be dumped on the street.”

“It’ll be okay,” Kix said. “We don’t have to figure it all out right now.” He looked at the datapad clipped to the side of your cot. His eyebrows wrinkled. 

“Are you having trouble breathing?” He asked.

“A little. Why?” 

“Your respiratory muscles are working harder than expected. I’m going to give you something to help them relax.”

He pushed a small dose of a clear liquid through your IV and almost immediately you felt your muscles relax from head to toe. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” He said. You found you couldn’t keep your eyes open, so you slept.

You awoke when the transport landed in the hangar of a much larger ship. The able-bodied clones hopped out quickly, and were soon absorbed by the throngs of people all fixing, refueling, and disembarking from ships. 

The two injured clones were transferred onto stretchers. As they floated by, you saw one was missing the lower chunk of his leg. The other clone was only half unconscious. His chest plate was battered with blaster burns, and as he drifted past, you smelled the unmistakable scent of burning flesh. 

Kix scooped you up, and set you down on a hoverchair. Almost immediately you felt more awake. On the journey to the medbay, you watched others that followed the same route as you. Most injuries weren’t that bad. The general mood was celebratory, even in the medbay.

“I’m gonna help you into a bed,” Kix said, “But then I have to go help my brothers. I won’t be far.” 

Once more he lifted you gently, making sure not to put pressure on your hip, and laid you down in the bed. You watched as Kix went from bed to bed bandaging and comforting the injured. 

Slowly, everything settled down. One by one the patched up clones were sent on their way, and the medbay was calm. There was still work to do, but the medics were no longer running from one task to the next, instead they took inventories of what materials were needed, and updated medical logs. 

It was then that your trouble breathing got much, much worse. Despite trying your hardest, very little air moved in or out of your lungs. Pain coursed through your chest as your muscles tried to pull in what little breath they could. You coughed, hoping that would help. 

All that did was bring the taste of blood to your tongue. You sat up. A drop fell from your mouth and onto the pristine white sheets. 

Kix turned at the sound of your cough. He set down the data-pad and rushed over when he saw you sit up and spit blood. 

“You’re okay,” He said, placing a stethoscope on your back, “Keep coughing.” He turned to another medic and said, “We’re gonna need a needle, tubing, and a container.” 

He grabbed the bedside table.

“Lean on this,” Kix said, pulling it closer. You turned, sitting on the edge of the bed, legs hanging off, and you braced your forearms on top of it, still coughing and trying to clear your lungs.

The medic returned quickly, all the necessary supplies in his arms.

“You’re gonna feel a sharp prick on your back, just below your ribs,” Kix said, picking up the syringe and securing the tubing on one end. “On three, ready?”

You nodded.

“One, two,” He pushed the needle through skin, muscle, and finally lung. It was uncomfortable and caught you off guard, but immediately the pressure started to decrease. A moment or two later, you could breathe with not too much difficulty.

Kix arranged everything so that you could sit up against the pillows.

“What’s wrong with me?” You asked.

“There is fluid leaking into your lungs,” Kix said, “I’m not exactly sure what it is; there’s at least some blood in it.”

“What caused it?”

“I’m guessing they weren’t too careful when extracting bone marrow from the sternum, and somehow nicked your lung. We can keep draining it, but we’ll have to fix the puncture at some point. We’ll probably use the drainage tube to access it��” 

You kept listening as he worked on possible solutions. The events of the past few hours suddenly washed over you, and your eyes once again drooped closed. 

When you woke up, there was no longer a bag attached to your side. Where the tube had been, there was just a simple bacta patch. 

The medbay staff had changed. They looked less tired. Kix was in the corner, near the door, talking with a blonde trooper. When they noticed you were awake, they came over.

You’d seen the other trooper before. He held his helmet under one arm, the jaig eyes peering out at you. 

“Y/n,” Kix said, pulling up a chair next to your bed, “This is Captain Rex. He leads the 501st.”

“Yeah,” You nodded, “The ones that got me outta there.” 

“Kix was just sharing that you’re healing well,” Rex said.

“I definitely feel way better, now that I’m not coughing up blood and struggling to breathe,” You said.

“I am very thankful we fixed that,” Kix nodded, then another medic called him over.

“Excuse me,” He said, then walked to the other end of the medbay. 

Rex was quiet, as though he didn’t really know what to say.

“Anyway,” he finally said, “I’m here to see if you have any information that might help us.”

“Uh… I don’t really know much.”

“That’s fine, just tell me what happened.”

“Well, they kidnapped us from my mom’s apartment on Coruscant. Some droids drugged us and we must’ve been out for at least a few hours, since when I woke up in that cell, they had already taken bone marrow from my chest. I hung there for a bit, then they took marrow from my hip, and that’s when y’all showed up.” 

“Can you think of any reason that the Separatists would want to target you or your family?”

“Nope. Mom and I aren’t politically active or important. Truth be told, I haven't the foggiest who my father was.”

You talked for a bit longer, and just as Rex was standing up, Kix came back. His eyes were fixed on the datapad held in his hands. His forehead was deeply creased; his expression the epitome of concern.

“Wait one moment, Captain,” He said. “This… this is bad.”

“What is it?” You and Rex both asked.

“The team on the ground just finished uploading their reports on the equipment. It’s for advanced genetic sequencing. They were working to reconstruct Jango Fett’s DNA.”

“What were they even working from?” Rex asked, eyebrows scrunching together.

“They spliced together DNA from one of Fett’s children, their mother, and one of our brothers.” 

“Jango didn’t have any children.” Rex said, then asked, “Right?”

“That’s what I thought, before I found this lab, at least” Kix shook his head, then turned towards you, “Y/n, I ran a paternity test on you. You are Jango Fett’s child.”

“Okay?” You said. “I have, like, zero clue what that means.”

“Have you told the general yet?” Rex asked Kix, completely ignoring your confusion.

“I’m on my way to do just that.” 

With that, Kix left, clutching his datapad. 

A few weeks later, you had fully healed.

Going through your old apartment was difficult. You only found a few things worth keeping. Most held too many painful memories. Nothing of value was left, since after people figured out it was empty, it was seen as an easy target. 

Sifting through the piles of overturned mess was too hard, so you didn’t. Instead, you picked up a few things. A necklace. A hologram of you and your mom, both beaming at whoever took it. 

You snapped it closed, and pushed yourself to your feet. You took in your ransacked apartment one last time. It reminded you of the last time this happened, two years ago. The only difference now, is that you had a place to go. 

“You ready?” Came a voice from the doorway. 

“Yup.” You said, voice wavering, but not breaking. “Let’s go, Kix.”

Word spread fast that you were Jango’s child. The troopers of the 501st took you under their wings. Kix trained you in the medical field, and Rex taught you to shoot.

They set you up with a bunk and a drawer, which was all you needed. Sleeping in the same room as countless clones was calming. Their rhythmic breathing lulled you into a feeling of safety.

Over a late night of swapping stories, you learned that Jango had another child. A boy named Boba. 

You knew you had to find him. All you had to do first was track him down.

[danco110]

You are asked by WOTC to come up with the flavour for the next 5 "Soul of [Plane]" cards. What 5 planes do you choose and what colour(s) are they?

- Soul of Eldraine: a knight with paper skin, fairy tales and epics inked all over. A patchwork but still effective suit of armor, with different pieces modeled after those of the five kingdoms. White if keeping in line with the mono-colored theming, otherwise 5C.

- Soul of Kaladesh: a metallic construct dressed to the nines with filigree. Equipped not with huge servos for crushing, but rather smaller, clock-like parts for more precise movements. Aether trails behind it as it soars gracefully through the air. Then it looks down, simultaneously performing for and learning from its people. Artifact blue, or artifact Esper.

- Soul of Capenna: a shimmering silhouette of Halo, darkened and corrupted by heinous acts, yet still retaining some of its original glow. Flanked by both angel and demon wings - Kaalia would be jealous. Willing to do anything to protect itself and those under its care. Mono-black or Orzhov.

- Soul of Bablovia: no solid form to speak of; only a shower of sparkling fireworks…the distinct sound of a noisemaker…the smell of terribly-unhealthy-yet-still-delicious funnel cake! Here one moment, then gone the next. Talkative, with a voice switching back and forth between that of a bored ride attendant, a cheery PA system voice, and Space Beleren - the good actor on shift A, not that other guy. Mono-red however you slice it.

-Soul of Ixalan: a nature avatar, kinda like Zendikar, but less…uniform with its look. Maybe something like…palm tree limbs with a volcanic rock body, surrounded by rings of enchanted jade like that of the River Heralds! Mono-green or Temur.

[what-is-that-cats-genetic-string]

[C][SS][LL][BBFF3][YYTT][YY5C]

why does my wife insist on bullying him