#boba!answers

[yourfaveisintersex]

my 4 week old kitten Breezy from Real Life was confirmed intersex today by the vet and she has ambiguous genitalia! she's also kind of bald and tiny

Breezy from Real Life is intersex, and she has ambiguous genitalia! ... she's also kind of bald and tiny for whatever reason. Hope she recovers from being Bald and Tiny soon!

[shield-and-saber]

not to be on about this again a year and a half after the fact, but boba fett really should've returned in mando s3

not just to reclaim the 2 episodes he lost from his own show, not just bc temuera deserves so much more from lucasfilm in general, but also because it just made simple narrative sense

din and boba almost died on the battlefield together in mos espa. after all that, u really expect me to believe that din "i'm with you till we both fall" djarin wouldn't have reached out to fett for aid in reclaiming mandalore? u really expect me to believe that boba "you really believe all that bantha fodder? good" fett wouldn't have 1.) thrown a fit about how stupid this plan is, and 2.) shown up anyways and blasted half the stormtroopers to kingdom come from his firespray

AND ANOTHER THING as a diasporic mando who already struggles with his identity as the clone/son of jango fett, how powerful would it have been for the son of the man who helped the empire rise to power to walk onto mandalore IN HIS FATHER'S ARMOR to help destroy the last remnants of that empire

favreau and filoni ur fired, let me write star wars instead you fuckers

[markscherz]

I just heard about gastric-brooding frogs. The photos are wild. So I guess my question is, what the fuck? Why/how would a species be like that?

Evolution be like Phoebe sometimes

[rinrinp42]

#22 for the dialogue prompts!

I was delighted by this one, have some of Boba Adopts A Dad

22. “The children were eager to behold my blood”

Obi-Wan’s eyes darted about, taking in the lack of anyone in the hall.  He knew that the Force said there was no reason to be concerned, that Wad’e and Kal were distracting any of the Kaminii so the eyayade could be the children they were instead of the products the Kaminii wanted them to be.  And yet…

The lack of anyone was concerning.  Somehow he was quickly understanding why the Cretch Masters were so worried when their charges slipped away.  He owed so many apologies to Master Valesh…

Obi-Wan slowly walked down that hall towards one of the training rooms.  He could feel Jango and some of the eyayade there, with no overt negative feelings.  He still was apprehensive though.  Why was it so quiet?

He opened the door and blinked.  His mouth twitched.  He had to swallow his first words.

“Did I come at a bad time?” he finally asked, fighting to keep his voice even.

Jango blinked at him like a tooka who just slipped from a ledge and was pretending that was the plan the whole time.  He then glanced down at the chair he was in, the wire wrapped around him, and the squad surrounding him.

The CC’s shifted awkwardly, the one with auburn hair starting to open his mouth then closing it.

Alpha-17 on the side of the room raidiated smugness.  And was standing next to a box of…toy weapons?  Obi-Wan wasn’t sure where he even got them.  Ah wait, there was Boba mouth covered by his hands sitting on the floor next to Alpha-17.

“The children were eager to behold my blood,” Jango finally answered, “I, ah, thought you had a meeting with your friend Quinlan?”

“His last mission took an unexpected turn and has been extended,” Obi-Wan waved off, eying the box.  He didn’t want to bring up that Quinlan was in the midst of tracking the last known Sith from before they disappeared.  At least not around the children.  They may look about 10 (except for Alpha-17 who looked like a proper teenager), but they were still children.

Alpha-17 locked eyes with him and deliberately glanced down at the box.

Well.  If the surly eldest brother was inviting him, who was Obi-Wan to turn them down?

Obi-Wan stepped into the room, craning his neck to see better into the box.

Jango caught on faster than the eyayade surrounding him.

“Now cyar’ika, let’s not be hasty he-”

Obi-Wan lifted the stuffed lightsaber using the Force as sent it over to smack Jango in the face and was delighted as it lit up with a soft blue light.

The children cheered.

[thecutestgrotto]

can I request a boba header pwease sorry if you've done this before ❤️

Sure, I can do that anon 💗

Boba

[keldabekush]

boba fett, 45

This took me so long to get round to I’m sorry 😢 you got BLOOD by ANIMA! I love this one. I haven’t drawn boba for a while so I forgot what his armour looks like rip

[maybege]

Older!Boba being a dad is something so special to me. Like imagine him with a baby??? He could be so careful and he could be so proud of his WIFE??? “Have you meet MY baby and my WIfE???” “My WIFE and my BABY are waiting for me at HOME” “Of course my baby’s first word was ‘mama’. LOOK AT HER”

I just love to think about older!boba and his family

OHMYGOD YES You’re so right!!

He’s the proudest dad at the grocery store, baby wearing his baby and gushing to everyone who’ll listen about how amazing your baby is and how amazing you are and just OUGH 😫😫

When he’s on night duty, he likes to read up on the developmental stage your baby is at, talking to them about all things such as „The book says you’re about to recognize different colours, that sounds fun. Maybe we could go to the hardware store and you can pick a favourite? I think you’ll like green“ and when you wake up in the mornings it’s to the sight of Boba cradling your baby against his bare chest, both of them snoring slightly 🥹🥹🥹🥹

[vodika-vibes]

Since you did mention you haven't watched The Mandolorian, could you instead write for a modern reader who knows Ludosport and also somehow ends up in the Star Wars galaxy. The one who finds her is Boba Fett, and the reader dosen’t show him her lightsaber skills until he is in danger, and she's using a lightsaber to battle against enemies that she managed to find/steal. When he asks her how she could battle like that, her vague answer was that she had good teachers.

Make Believe

Summary: Life on Tatooine sucks. It’s hot. And cold. And the sand gets everywhere. And the sand of Tatooine is rough and sharp, not like the soft sandy beaches of where you grew up. And you hate it. Luckily, none of it’s real.

Pairing: Pre Boba Fett x F!Reader - Early Original Series Boba

Word Count: 2173

Warnings: Reader is straight up not having a good time right now, mentions of drugging but nothing detailed

A/N: So I'm not sure if this was what you were wanting, but I had an idea and I decided to run with it. I hope you like it!

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

“Oi! Boss wants you to pop into the back and take inventory,” Your co-worker, an older male twi’lek, calls to you as you step into the open building that has become your place of employment.

“Didn’t you do inventory last week?” You ask as you tug your poncho off and shove it into you locker.

“Yeah, well,” He shrugs, almost lazily, “Boss lost a bet to Jabba, and now we need to do another inventory.”

You make a face, but then offer a shrug of your own, “Alright. Toss me my tablet.”

He pauses and shoots you a pitying look, “Datapads, love. They’re called datapads.”

“Yeah. Right. I knew that.”

His pitying look remains even as he grabs a datapad, and then a bound pack of laminated paper and hands both to you. “Your datapad, and your cheat book.” He hesitates for a moment, “So, uh, how was your appointment yesterday?”

“Fine.”

“Did the doc say anything about, well—you know.” He gestures towards your head, and your lips turn down into an unhappy frown.

“He, officially, diagnosed me with Sun Sickness.”

“Yeah. Yeah, well we knew that was going to happen, didn’t we?” He’s trying to be encouraging, but that look still hasn’t faded from his eyes, “And you’re doing so much better than you were when we found you. I mean, you can almost recognize every letter in Aurebesh now.”

“Yeah, but I still can’t understand Huttese or Bocce.”

“Those will come. Just be patient.” He lightly pats your hand, “Now, you’d better get to work. Don’t forget your hat and your work poncho. Last thing we need is to make your Sun Sickness worse.”

“You sound like a dad.”

“I am a dad. Now scoot before the boss catches you.”

You offer him a wave of acknowledgment, and then pull your work poncho and hat from your locker, and head into the back of the scrapyard while pulling them on. As soon as you open the door leading behind the shop, you’re smacked in the face by the sweltering heat of Tatooine.

It’s so hot, in fact, that you feel yourself starting to sweat just from the short walk from the main shop to the back warehouse. You set your water bottle under a sun shade, and sit on an overturned bucket as you power on the tablet—datapad—in your hands.

As you wait for the device to power on, you allow your focus to wander.

You’re still not sure how you ended up in this situation. Well, not this situation specifically. You remember very well how you ended up working at this scrapyard, but in general.

You don’t remember how you ended up on Tatooine.

Or how you ended up wandering the Wastes outside of the city you now work and live in.

You remember what you had been doing before, though.

You are, or were, a college student at the University of Miami in Florida. A Marine Biology student. A student of LudoSport. You remember your best friend inviting you to a party to help you decompress from midterms.

The party itself is mostly a blur. You mostly remember thumping music, the stuffy heat of too many bodies pressed into a too small area, the scent of cheap alcohol, and the sound of too many people pretending to have a good time.

Your working theory is that you were drugged at the party and that this, Tatooine and all of the people, are the result of a coma dream. The miserable heat that you suffer through has to be a side-effect of a fever or an infection or something.

Because it’s not real.

It can’t be real.

You need it to be a hallucination. Because if it’s real then that means you’re never going to see your parents again. Or your siblings. Or your friends.

And that’s just...it’s just not allowed.

Still, it’s a very vivid hallucination. You get corrected on things that you didn’t even known about. Things that never showed up in the movies or the books or games.

Most of the people in Mos Epsa, the town you call home, have been very accommodating to you. In fact, aside from one or two people who aren’t from Tatooine, everyone has been.

They look at you with pitying eyes.

Whispers follow you through the market when you try to do your daily shopping. And people are all too happy to help you with translations or with your shopping.

It’s because of the Sun Sickness.

It’s a real illness, though it’s not caused by bacteria or a virus. It’s caused by over exposure to the sun. There’s no cure or treatment for the symptoms. And the biggest symptoms are a loss of memory, which you have, and aphasia. Basically, words get flipped around in your head and it makes it hard to communicate at times.

Luckily, Basic is pretty much the same as English. For all that the written language is so much different. And no one gives you too hard of a time if you call some things by the wrong name.

You glance at the tablet and sigh softly when you see it’s actively running an update. You’ll be waiting a while, apparently. So you stretch your legs out, and allow your attention to wander again.

For all that none of this is real, you did make a few rules for yourself as soon as you realized you were on Tatooine.

Rule 1: Change nothing. An easy thing to do, really, since you have no idea where, in the timeline, you are. Well, aside from during the time of the Empire. Jabba is a Hutt, after all. And they, apparently live a long ass time.

Rule 2: Don’t interact with anyone who might hurt you. For example, don’t join any of the cartels, don’t draw the attention of any bounty hunters, and don’t talk about Jedi.

Rule 3: Ignorance is bliss. Getting involved in the Rebel Alliance is bad. Getting involved with the Empire is bliss. When people gossip about galactic news in the market, you play dumb.

Rule 4: Do nothing to draw attention to yourself. So far as the rest of Tatooine, and the Galaxy, need to know. You’re just some poor woman with Sun Sickness. It needs to stay that way.

You’re jolted out of your thoughts when the tablet chimes in your hands, and you heave out a sigh of relief as it flickers to life.

You know that you’re lucky. You get paid well enough that you have your own little studio apartment not far from here. And you can afford food and clothes and you’re not a slave.

It’s not so bad, for a coma dream.

Or, well, it could be worse.

It’s later, that same day, when your carefully laid rules crumble around you.

After a long, long day of working in the stifling heat, you finish your work and head to the market to pick up dinner for yourself.

It’s a normal thing to do. You don’t have a fridge or a freezer in your studio, so you have to buy perishable food every day. At first, you struggled with the idea of shopping daily, it just wasn’t a thing you did.

But you’ve adjusted. You think.

But when you turn a corner, you freeze.

Members of the Pyke Syndicate are surrounding someone. You can’t quite see who they’re threatening, but if you had to guess it’s probably a shopkeeper.

The Pykes seem to be doing there best to worm their way into Hutt territory, and if that happens, you’re going to get dragged into a gang war whether you like it or not.

Nervously, you look around, and then you pick up a metal rod. It’s roughly the same length as your old saber that you used in Florida, though it’s a bit heavier since it’s steel.

You have to be quick, and careful.

You’re not actually a Jedi, you can’t dodge blaster bolts.

But they haven’t notice you. So you silently move so you’re standing behind one of the Pykes and you strike.

You crack one over the back of the head, and then use a sweeping motion to knock out the two standing right next to the first one you attacked, and then there’s four blaster shots.

Though, not aimed at you you realize as you straighten and manage to get a look at who the Pykes had been threatening.

Tall and broad, wearing armor painted with flecking green paint.

Boba Fett.

Your weapon falls from your numb fingers, and you feel the blood draining from your face as your fight or flight instincts activate.

Bad. This is bad.

Boba Fett is one of the people on your Do Not Interact list. In fact, he’s near the top. Just under Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, and Han Solo to be specific.

You want to flee. To run away to your apartment and never show your face again. But your feet feel rooted to the ground.

And he’s approaching you.

He stops several inches away from you, and then he crouches and picks up the metal rod you used. He turns it this way and that, examining it through his helmet.

“Not bad.” His voice is modulated through the helmet, but he doesn’t sound angry, you don’t think. “A proper weapon would have been more useful.”

“Ah...yes. I know.” You really, really want this conversation to end. Like, now.

He reaches up and pulls his helmet off with one hand, and you find yourself staring at him. He’s...young. Well, younger than you expected.

He has dark curls that are sticking up in weird directions, likely from a mix of sweat and his helmet. And his eyes are focused on your weapon of choice. “Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

“I had teachers, I think. But there’s also only so many ways someone can swing a stick—” Your chest feels tight, and your voice sounds very far away to your own ears.

His gaze flickers to your face, “Are you okay?” A frown appears on his face as he scans you, and then he pulls his blaster out and shoots the three Pykes you knocked out, “They’ll never know you were involved. So far as the Pyke Syndicate will know, I killed them all. You don’t have to look so horrified.”

He’s...worried?

About you.

No. No nononon—

He can’t be. He’s not real.

He’s a fictional character. He’s supposed to be two-dimensional.

“—an you hear me?” A large hand lands on your shoulder, and you cast your panicked gaze up to his face, his brow creases a little more, “Kriff, I thought I recognized you. You’re the sun sickness woman, aren’t you? Are you having an episode?”

Your breathing quickens, and you can see spots at the side of your vision. Is this what a panic attack feels like? You don’t like it.

“-ey! Hey! Stay with me!” You watch, feeling like you’re miles away, as he yanks his helmet back on and a comm crackles to life. You hear him start to report a medical emergency, but you don’t hear him finish, as you black out from hyperventilating.

Boba Fett stares at the young woman resting peacefully on the thin mattress at the local emergency clinic. His helmet is sitting on a table next to him as a pair of older Twi’lek fret around her.

Smoothing her blanket, brushing her hair back, pressing a cool cloth against her head.

“She’s your kid?” Boba asks.

“We were the ones who found her wandering the wastes,” The man says as he takes the young woman’s hand and squeezes it, “Thank you for bringing her here.”

“Of course. She’s sick.”

“She hasn’t had an episode like that in months,” The older woman whispered, “What caused it, do you know?”

“The Pykes, if I had to guess.” Boba replies.

“That would do it. Stress and anxiety are both triggers for these kinds of episodes.” The woman brushes her cheek, “Oh, my sweet girl. You’ll be alright. I’m here now.”

“I want to stay until she wakes up.” Boba says bluntly. Not asking so much as informing her guardians that he wasn’t leaving.

He’s never minded being feared before. But that was more than just fear.

He doesn’t like it.

“I’m sure you have a lot to do—” The old man says hesitantly.

“Nothing that can’t wait.” Sure, he’s supposed to head to Bespin to catch that Solo guy for Jabba, but he’ll pass that job onto Cad Bane. This, right here, feels more important for some reason.

“Well, if that’s what you want—” The old woman murmurs.

Boba glances at them, “I want to make sure the Pykes don’t come after her.” He clarifies, “That’s all.”

“Well, in that case, stay as long as you want.”

Boba nods, and glances at the slumbering woman for a moment, and then settles back in his seat, prepared to stand guard for as long as it takes.

@heidnspeak

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@dreamie411

[popfizzles]

Val definitely uses Boba's height to make him gets stuff off of shelves even when she can reach it herself. Cuphead on the other hand is forced to ask cuz he actually cant reach. Either that or Cup just says 'fuck this' and goes on without what he was trying to get

Val will ask Boba for things off high shelves :) She can get most things but the highest kitchen shelves, and Boba tends to put stuff like flour up there. And Val would rather have Boba grab it than accidentally pour flour all over the kitchen.

Cuphead, on the other hand. Will sooner stand on chairs or scale counters to get things than ask for help. He would never ask, because that would mean he admits to being too short to reach things himself.

And Cuphead will NEVER be too short to reach things himself.

[oxxjustfrankieandmikuloverxxo]

Mommy please dont block me i beg its me simon please

Seriously, learn to behave and behave like that only in front of your parents, not in front of me, I'm not your relative

[bitchin-beskar]

Well, since we're on a Boba kick, let's go with classic Bounty Hunter Boba. You ran away from home before you were sent away to be the mistress of a distasteful Imperial Officer. When Boba finds you, because of course he does, you offer up your charms in exchange for freedom. I feel like at first he'll be all cocky, like you'll need to prove it to him that your ✨️charms✨️ are worth it. But then, once he has a taste, he's hooked...

BESTIE I LOVE HOW YOUR MIND WORKS

your parents are rich, like royalty of a whole system of planets rich. you've always been aware of the fact that you'll be married off to whomever they deem appropriate, and while you don't like it, you also understand that this is just how the galaxy works.

but then, you find out that not only is your husband-to-be an imperial officer, he's had three previous wives, all of whom died under suspicious circumstances. you try to bring this up to your parents, but they won't hear anything of it, already dreaming about the influence they'll be able to wield with their daughter as the wife of an important imperial officer.

you're determined that you won't let this bastard kill you, so you make the brave (or maybe stupid) decision to run away before the wedding.

your parents, being as rich as they are, of course hire the best bounty hunter in the galaxy.

meanwhile, boba is of the impression that this is going to be easy. you're essentially a spoiled princess, running away from home because you don't like the husband mommy and daddy picked out for you. he's seen this all play out before. you're just looking for a bit of a thrill, but soon enough you'll be hanging off your husband's arm, dazzled by the riches and influence he supposedly wields.

but.

slowly, his opinion begins to change. it takes him weeks to find you. he's never had a bounty hide out from him for this long. it's almost impressive, if he weren't so annoyed.

he finally corners you on hoth of all places, and he's completely stunned to see that you've managed to set up a small ice cave, lined with furs you must have skinned and cleaned yourself, and meagre but filling rations. you're wearing surprisingly sensible clothes, warm but also unassuming. you don't have any technology, but you wield a knife with unerring accuracy. you were prepared, that much was obvious. still, you're not formally trained, and boba's the best in the business.

it takes him longer than he'd like to admit to subdue you, and the scuffle ends with you on your back as he straddles your hips, hand pinning yours above your head as he holds a vibroblade to your throat.

"kill me," you whisper, and he once more finds himself caught off guard. "kill me, or keep me for yourself, but don't take me back to him."

he scoffs, the noise doing a poor job of masking of how rattled he is by your request. "not how this works, princess."

but you don't flinch. "either you kill me, keep me, or take me back. and I promise you, if you take me back, I'll take my own life before I let him do it."

boba doesn't want to think about what that means.

he stays quiet, pulling out a pair of cuffs and locking them around your wrists. you sigh, having expected this. he pulls you to your feet and leads you to his ship.

there, he pauses in front of the carbon-freezing unit. you can't see his expression behind his helmet, but you wonder if he's considering your offer.

but, he says nothing, and gestures for you to step into the unit. you close your eyes for a moment, already planning how you'll get access to the poison you need for a swift but painless death once you're delivered to your fiancé.

you step into the carbon-freezing unit, and the world goes dark.

~~~

when you come back to awareness, it's slow and painful. you're dizzy, confused, and you can't see a thing. your hands are no longer bound, so when you feel a firm grip on your shoulders, you instinctively lash out at who you assume is a guard, or your fiancé.

you manage to get a punch in before your wrists are grabbed, and a surprising voice filters in through the fog.

"easy, princess."

you still, eyes searching but unable to see anything.

"f-fett?"

he doesn't respond, but you allow yourself to be moved until you're settled into a seat, the cushion soft beneath your aching legs, sore from the pins and needles rushing up and down every inch of your body.

"give it a minute, princess. let me know when you can see."

it's difficult, just sitting there, vision blank, but slowly, shadows and light begin to filter back in, followed by blurry colors and shapes that slowly form into a clear picture.

the bounty hunter is sitting on a table in front of you, still in most of his armor, which explains the pain in your knuckles, but his helmet is off, revealing a stern expression, though it softens almost imperceptibly when he sees the recognition in your eyes.

"I can see you," you whisper, eyes darting around as you try to make sense of your surroundings. "where am I?"

he lets out a low laugh.

"you gave me three options, princess. remember?"

your mind flashes back to the ice cave, where you'd fought for your life, and been subdued regardless.

"kill me, keep me, or take me back and I'd kill myself."

he nods.

"it'd be a shame to kill such a pretty young thing," he says softly, tone almost mocking. "even bigger shame to let you kill yourself over that piece of bantha shit."

your mind jumps to the third option.

"so," the bounty hunter says, contemplative, with a hint of a challenge. "convince me why I should keep you."

you don't give yourself any time to second guess. you lean forward, hands landing on his broad thighs as you place your lips against his. you nibble lightly on his lower lip, letting your tongue flick out to beg for entrance. he grants it to you, though you can't tell if he's just humoring you or not.

as soon as your tongue brushes against his, he's pulling back, and you worry for a second that you've done something wrong.

but his arm wraps around your waist and yanks you forward so you're perched in his lap, hands flying to his chest to steady yourself. he looks up at you, eyes dark and hungry.

"that's a good start, princess. why don't you see what else you can do to convince me to keep you?"

[abyssyby]

oooH i love the twins sm but and i love them both but kyros is just so MUWAH MUWAH MY LIL’ BABY

AWW this is so sweet!!! hehehe

Personality-wise, kyros does come off as tinier and baby-er than lucian (lucian thinks so too, they're the same size btw). So, i get that. i wanna give his little mochi cheeks kissies too.

Sylus definitely has cuteness aggression more with kyros as well. lucian has loving cuteness aggression towards Sylus (chomping his ear, pulling his cheeks— really, its bc sylus just lets him). 😂

i appreciate you so much, thank you for reading!

[howlingday]

Jaune: No matter what Salem, today's the day you go down!

Salem: Throw yourself at me then. You'll only die tired.

Jaune: Oh, I have no intention of fighting you.

Jaune: (Pulls out cigarette case)

Salem: Oh? One last smoke before you die?

Jaune: Actually, I don't smoke.

Jaune: (Flips open container, Shows button) But you will. (Presses)

Salem: (Ground explodes beneath her feet, Plummets)

[ghostcashewart]

your shark girl oc is super cute!!!

thank you so much!!! she's actually the character i play in dnd i'm just obsessed with her so i draw her constantly lmao

her name is Boba True (or Batul in another timeline) and she's a chef/paladin! she's got a blinkdog who's a terrible borzoi! she's got a nemesis who's a pirate captain! she's a wanted criminal in the feywild! she's planning to kill god (unrelated to the criminal status)!

[2aceofspades]

I see that star sticker, and i raise you HEART STICKERS! ❤️💙💜🧡

*slaps two hearts on both of your cheeks*

- 🧋boba anon

More stickers?

Okie dokie ✨

[canisalbus]

is it ok if i do a stimboard of machete or vasco (or both)

im a part of the stimblr community and ive had this thought for a while in my head

ur art is cool btw :3

this is what a stimboard is if u dont know (here) (u can also search it up on the tumblr searchbar btw)

Absolutely, I'd love that! A couple of people have made moodboards/stimboards of them before and they've been very fitting.