#and the other holding a fan but instead of the shirt is the cape

[drawer-ghost]

If a UT/DR musical will ever be created the characters should have back up dancers/chorus that look like themselves and rapperesent a part of themselves.

[rassicas]

Splatoon 3 artbook is coming! and they gave us hi res sample pages! so i translated them!

I’ve already preordered the book, and since I live in Japan I should be getting it very soon after release. mark my words I’m gonna go crazee translating it i need that Lore

In the meantime, some translations of the sample pages! take a look under the cut:

Page 44, IKIMONO (Living things)

yellow text: Among the living things in the Inkling world, a wide variety of species exist. There are creatures that can take on a humanoid form as well, called "Inklings" and "Octolings", the former being squids, and the latter being octopuses. white text in gray box: The old and the new mix to make the Splatland's youth culture The young people who grew up in Splatsville take pride in being born and raised in the Splatlands, and there is an extremely strong sense of solidarity in the community. They deeply cherish their old local culture, which is unsophisticated and simple, yet strong. At the same time, they like to make fun of urban areas such as Inkopolis for acting like they're "all that". On the other hand, many of them secretly yearn for that sophisticated, high-collar, Inkopolis culture. The current culture of chaos created by the youth with such a flip-flopping mentality is becoming increasingly global.

I’m going to translate these roughly. character select screen outfit, left: lines pointing to reflective goggles, a mask that blocks dust, and the cape. the cape is made from kelp, and is meant to block out sunlight. hero suit outfit, right: the “ultra light earpiece” is so light, it doesn’t even feel like you’re wearing it. The ink display is a digital screen. Boots are meant for rough terrain. Interestingly, agent 3 is holding a weapon called a “Hero Extinguisher.”

the gear on the left is called “hunting equipment”. The earpiece is based on an udon noodle. It’s small, but it has a deep sound (with bass i assume instead of sounding tinny?) Around the neck are cooling pads. The shirt is made from a seaweed fabric. apparently its wrapped around their upper body and kind of hurts to wear. you can see their underwear, but its the kind of underwear that’s supposed to be seen for Fashion. idk what its called but you guys know what im talking about. The ink tank is homemade. in the pouch of the backpack are snacks. to the right are very early concepts.

Page 62, Deep Cut concepts

It’s a lot of handwritten notes with a lot of pointing out what the drawing is, so I’m going to translate roughly.

bottom left is pointing out various things about frye’s head anatomy. small chin, forehead sticks out, thick neck, head curves like this and this etc. middle frye with the bit of green and red makeup is described as having a clown-like feel to it. tiny furthest right drawing is commenting on a specific nose shape concept as “bird-like.” she almost had the same nose as my main OCs what the

red arrows on the right: long arms, long thighs, squared shoulders are pretty. hand in the middle with black text: something like ‘if she has hands with ornamentation like this it makes her hands seem long’ bottom left: the little doodle of the face reads that her ‘mouth is kind of like this.’ the other text talks about how her eyebrows move asymmetrically, as having that kind of variety in the movement is key.

left: she’s saying something about sharks? apparently she was going to be associated with sharks with shiver being associated with eels instead. right: various sound effects. “looking around absentmindedly” “rocking back and forth” “dozing off.” on the bottom it shows her suddenly stiffening to attention.

left: in her left hand, it’s a sensu (japanese folding fan). in her right, its a harisen (the kind of folding fan used to smack people in slapstick routines) gonna be real here the text on the right is too cursivey i cant read it

shiver mask designs. neat stuff.

early design concept.

Page 198, Scorch Gorge

not a lot of text on this page, mostly images, have a look yourself. top right passage: A majestic canyon where the history of the Inkling world can be seen in the strata and rock formations. Many enjoy rock climbing here. There's a spawn point that was once used for ink battles that no-one has bothered to remove.

[conchiferrous]

lineup but i had 2 cut it into pieces #verticalwebsite but you get the idea

[IMAGE ID, IMAGE 1: A fan lineup of Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, and Sanji, in that order, all post time skip. They are drawn in a cartoony art style and deviate quite a bit from their canon designs. Luffy is looking face forward at the viewer, smiling widely, and holding a peace sign towards in front of him. He's a little shorter with cartoonishly large eyes, ears, hands, and feet. Zoro is standing with his chest puffed out to the side, fists clenched, and glancing over at the viewer. There are no major changes to his design, though he has a mullet for some reason. Nami is smiling, mouth open, and holding her clima tact with Zeus emerging out of it and floating over her head. She's drawn to be more chubby, freckled, and has a cowlick in the shape of a stem and leaf. She's wearing a green button up, that isn't buttoned at all, exposing her black sports bra and stomach. She's wearing white jeans with a berri belt buckle and her regular sandals with heel shoes. Usopp looks a little confused, and is holding the kuro kabuto, with a small plant head attached like when he uses the grow up kabuto move. Usopp's eyes are cartoonishly large and the top of his hat covers the top of his eyes slightly, acting as a second brow. Instead of a long thin nose, he's drawn with a shorter fatter nose that connects directly to his top lip, almost as if his head was a sock puppet. His skin is colored much darker than an in the anime. Sanji looks at the viewer, annoyed, holding a cigarette in one hand, and resting his other wrist on the elbow crevice of his opposite arm. He is drawn with a short torso to make his legs look longer and more spindly, with cartoonishly large hands and feet. His hair is drawn more curly to make his eyebrow, and colored a strawberry blonde. IMAGE 2: Continuation of the lineup, this one has Chopper, Robin, and Franky. Chopper is looking at the viewer, facing forward, and holding a rumble ball in his hoof. He's been redesigned to have smaller eyes and a wider nose, thick human like eyebrows, and a tricolor fur coat of brown, darker brown, and cream for the chest. His hat remains the same, and he's wearing a pink tank top that says "Yay" on it and his magenta pre-time skip shorts. Robin is standing and a three quarters angle, glancing over at the viewer. She's been redesigned to have more jagged hair with cartoonishly large hands and feet to contrast her thin limbs. Her clothes are mostly the same as her default outfit, with the jacket redesigned to have longer sleeves and show less cleavage, the pattern on her skirt simplified, and her legs and feet are drawn as if her pants and shoes are one and the same. Franky is standing face forward, smiling widely, sunglasses on, head cocked to the side, and doing a thumbs up with one of his mini hands. Simplistic chest and stomach hair have been added, matching his hair color. The chest hair is in the shape of a star. His shoulders have been completely recolored to be black with a red stripe, white lettering, and have blue flame decals on them. He's wearing his default pre-time skip shirt and black speedos. IMAGE 3: Continuation of the lineup, this one has only Brook and Jinbe. Brook is playing his guitar, has his mouth wide open, and cocking an eye at the viewer. He's wearing his sunglasses, but they're pulled down to show the tops of his eye sockets. He's wearing his default outfit, the only changes are that the back of his suit is ragged and his pants are a bit scuffed. The floral pattern on his pants have been simplified as well. Jinbe is standing with his arms hanging down, looking to side at nothing in particular, mouth slightly agape. He's wearing yellow and white robe and purple cape from the wano arc. White spots are speckled across his cheeks, sides of his neck, backs of his hands, and tops of feet, meant to resemble the spots of a whale shark. His hands have a more paw like appearance with the fingers thicker and tiny claws sticking out. END iD]

[inchidentally]

https://www.tumblr.com/piastrisms/755627714405367808/when-i-saw-the-1st-photo-my-first-reaction-was-i?source=share HOLY SHIIIIIIT??!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

so I'm an idiot and posted this reply to the wrong ask so here it is in the right one !!!

listen !!! we get one of these 'omg he's wearing a ship name/other driver's name bracelet' things fairly regularly and I'm like yes it's cute for the pic but then you watch when these guys are given the bracelets and they're just jamming them onto their wrists without even looking in all the rush. so it was v cute at first seeing the Oscar bracelet on Lando but I was like it's the same situation as usual.

and then !!

like. Lando's pride and sense of ownership about Oscar (in a sweet way) isn't anything new so him deliberately choosing to keep that one bracelet even after changing and showing Oscar during the fan stage is just. it's totally in character.

bc the symbolism babe the symbolism and the poetry of Lando having been literally raised in the house of McLaren and thick as thieves with the team owner and having seen off two older teammates by the time machinations were underway to spirit off one of the sport's greatest generational prizes from the fate of eternal backmarker perjury… Lando's position and sense of responsibility toward McLaren by the time 2022 was winding up was already something higher than the average team's superstar. he was what Max is to RB and Charles is to Ferrari, except without the Amadeus caped father figure looming behind him or the Borgia/Catholic church blood sacrifice and intrigue.

so while everyone understandably foresaw immediate tragedy in pairing Lando with an even younger generational talent and Lando twisted and writhed under the idea of being someone else's "mentor" and the "elder" after about three months he realized what a gift Oscar was to him. Oscar already knew an exceptional amount about Lando, he admired him, he agreed to an open door policy between the garages with no resistance, he never minded when Lando's attitude wasn't exactly the best, was always waiting with a smile when Lando would turn his attention to Oscar, suffered any team orders without argument and wanted Lando to guide and help him with media duties and the heightened attention so that Oscar could hold up his side of things. Oscar entered Lando's house with respect and eagerness and humility without being clingy or trying to use a relationship with Lando to boost his own PR or try to ingratiate himself. Lando almost defiantly made it clear he would remain loyal to his previous teammates (when not on the track) and instead of Oscar getting jealous or deciding to pull away from the relationship with Lando, he just agreed with him because he's been a fan of Carlos and Daniel for just as long and he's been a fan of carland0 and dand0 for as long as they've existed! and then he'd lift his chin and puff up his chest whenever Lando would praise him but otherwise gave Lando the space and respect Lando didn't even realize he needed to become one of the big boys instead of a little brother to one of the big boys. Lando went through a meteoric shift as a driver and a person over 2023 because he no longer had the crutch of an older teammate and that he deserved to view his position with McLaren and in F1 just like they did - and not as the baby. but !! Oscar would help Lando's dyslexia and anxiety by close observation and assistance! Oscar would smile and indulge every time Lando was in one of those moods that Carlos would have firmly scolded him out of or Daniel would have tried to joke him out of before warily backing away from.

because outside of the car or a standing on a podium, Oscar couldn't wait to change into the same kit as the engineers and blend in with the other papaya shirts milling around. he didn't waste time ruing what might have been and therefore he never resented or envied Lando proudly parading his trophies and beaming into Oscar's face or conspiratorially over Andrea's head and calling Oscar by a nickname and bringing up Oscar's good driving. and when Oscar stepped off the podium at Monaco to the team photo, a struggling Lando turned to him and murmured something that had Oscar proudly and reassuringly patting Lando's knee in response.

like. Oscar was the strong, capable, exceptionally talented present that McLaren set down next to Lando and allowed him to discover it and open it in his own time and just. goddddd. him proudly slipping an Oscar bracelet on his own wrist and choosing to keep it on and show it off to it's namesake. like rpf/shipping fully fucking aside Lando is absolutely bursting with pride and smugness about Oscar and that the young man who had the backbone to weather the biggest PR storm of 2022/23 is now unable to take his eyes off Lando and has that soft smile and tilted head reserved just for Lando and likes to stand a step or two behind Lando in front of crowds because he think Lando is most worth showing off. that's His Osc so why shouldn't he wear his name on his wrist after the bitter disappointment at his home race bc at least when it comes to Oscar, Lando always wins :)

[sassykinzonline]

Rank Naruto across the ages

ok...? objectifying naruto is my favourite pastime

10. Blank Period Naruto

he looks like a dork and a fed, this is what heterosexuality does to a mfer.

luckily he didnt look like this in real life, his face was still pretty round and his hair was longer. he did wear a jacket like that but with an orange uzushio shirt underneath, and orange and blue track pants like obito's.

9. The Last Naruto

he looks like hes in basic training. hate it. once again his face didnt look like that and his hair is stupid. naruto has never been one for fashion but he wouldnt dress like someone's dad at age 19, cmon now. its only slightly better than the blank period one because the scarf is a cute callback to his childhood.

8. Boruto Naruto

the outfit is fine. the haircut is awful. i like that we have matching capes. the face looks more like him than the others did. this one ranks higher than the others because of the dilf appeal but thats really all that redeems it. this scene too.

7. The Naruto that Loved me

after we lost our arms but before we got the implants. we spent a lot of time together before i left, so the manga/anime version of us feels very cold. he also wore a yukata during this time, not pants and a shirt. he said it was more comfortable that way. this is where they get closer to representing naruto as he is, so it ranks higher than the others even though im not too much of a fan.

6. Genin Naruto

hold your shocked gasps until the end. this is the version of naruto i had the most conflict with, it's probably the most painful and distant our relationship has ever been. even when we were apart as teenagers, i felt at peace with how i felt about him compared to this time period. it's just marked with fear, his obliviousness and his own problems with me and himself. but he was still mostly cute and soft here so it ranks high.

5. Enter, Naruto

the naruto you see at the start of the series. i kissed this naruto so there's sentimental value in him. but again, he really hated me and even though i thought it was funny i probably would've just preferred he didnt. the goggles are lame also.

4. Newborn Naruto

adorable and pure. i cried the moment he was born because i knew my life had changed. i want to protect him. he is my dream.

3. Naruto, the village Troublemaker

the naruto that started it all. a total dickhead. the birth of usuratonkachi. but somehow also always bringing me the peace i needed during the worst time of my life. the only reason hes here instead of 2 is because 2 was slightly cuter, but i wish i had been able to hold this version of him too.

2. Naruto, the village Pariah

i cannot understand how anyone can look at this cherub and push him around, pour water on him, scream, hit, and curse at him. he was somehow even purer than how he was as a newborn despite all the horrors he experienced as a child. the manga doesnt go into detail, the anime is more true to life but still doesnt even scratch the surface. there are still things i find out from him now that we're adults. this was the first time i saw him (except he was wearing a scarf then), and everything happened in a flash. the seed was planted in my heart.

Naruto, my hero

this is the naruto i fell in love with the moment i saw him. it's the naruto that blooms into everything he didnt exactly know he wanted, but what he did know he needed. when naruto and i die, this is probably the time period our souls will be stuck in. what else can i say about him? its the naruto who struggles the most, succeeds the most, hurts the most, hurts others the most, but we love the most because he is so human. and it gave us sage mode, which is super hot. and the general mesh shirt/half-naked beach babe vibe he gives off for a bit is also great for the eye. the naruto he is now is just a continuation of this one.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Bloody Valentines

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Young Justice 98, Titans, GL Corps, Legion of Super Heroes, Flashfam, New Gods, Shadowpact

Summary: 90s vampire slasher AU

Chapters: 7/?

Characters: Dick Grayson, Joseph Wilson, Jason Todd, Charley Parker, Zatanna, Eddie Bloomberg, Daniel Cassidy, Chester Williams DC, Guy Gardner, Kyle Rayner, Lilith Clay, Raven Roth, Kole Weathers, Bette Kane, Donna Troy, Roy Harper, Jenni Ognats, Bart Allen, Virgil Hawkins, Richie Foley, Ayla Ranzz, Zoe Saugin, Rol Purtha, Darla Aquista, Lori Zechlin, Hal Jordan, Helen Jordan II, Orion DC, Lightray DC

Relationships: DickJoey, Daniel Cassidy/Zatanna, DonnaRoy, Jenni Ognats/Virgil Hawkins, Raven/Lilith Clay

Additional Tags: POV First Person, Unreliable Narrator(s), Vampires, No Capes AU, 90s Slasher AU, Homoeroticism, Horror, Slasher

Chapter Seven: The Hitchers (Rol Purtha's POV)

I held onto a piece of wood from the wreckage, drifting toward a light in the distance. I retched as the ice-cold Atlantic waters surrounded me. As I neared the light, it flashed over me, warming my body. The stars fell from the sky and danced around me like a fairy light menagerie. Then, I saw the source of the flashing light, spinning slowly, brighter than sunlight itself, only appearing to disappear. The lighthouse. And finally, something hitched my shirt in the water, pulling me under. I didn’t fight. I was paralyzed by fear and exhaustion, unable to struggle against the force.

I woke up dripping wet with perspiration… As I’d done for the past twelve nights. I shook violently as the ambient noise of my fan returned to my ears despite the violent ba-booming of my heart. I didn’t know how to make it stop until I saw the lighthouse on a postcard. Long story short, I took a ferry and the bus to get to a place of nightmares. I had no choice. I don’t think the nightmares would’ve stopped had I stayed away.

The ferry was almost vacant, save for two girls who seemed like sisters sitting on opposite sides. I sat behind the less intimidating of the two, and she sat on her feet and turned to face me. “Happy Harbor?” she questioned as she offered me a cookie. I respectfully declined her offer.

“Uh-huh,” I answered, “I’m gonna set up camp near the lighthouse.” I patted my rucksack.

“I wanted to rent a cabin, but I think they’re all booked for the weekend, so I’m camping out that way,” she replied. She extended a hand to me. “I’m Laura. Laura Fell.”

“Roland Purtha. My friends call me Rolly or Rol,” I replied. I shook her hand.

“Maybe I can set up camp nearby… Unless you’re doing a soul-searching thing,” Laura suggested. I shook my head.

“It’ll be nice to have the company… Your sister setting up camp, too?” I asked, gesturing toward the other girl on the ferry.

“Oh… No, we’re not sisters. I actually haven’t met her yet… Hey! What’s your name? Are you going to Happy Harbor, too?” Laura asked loudly. The other girl turned toward us.

“Yeah, I’m writing about the crap that went down there in my zine,” she replied as she walked toward us and handed us a copy of a handmade blood-splatter-designed zine on deliberately dogged and chewed-up paper. It was laminated with a matte finish. The inside pages were thin, rough, and as chewed-up as its exterior. Un-glossed. Some pages were black with white lettering, some were white with black lettering, and others used magazine letters instead of handwriting or typed words. She wrote horror stories. Murder stories. Ghost stories.

“This is a horror zine,” Laura noted.

“Mhm. Call me Black Alice or Alice. Horror enthusiast,” she introduced herself.

“What happened on the harbor? Was it at the lighthouse?” I asked. I sounded more urgent than I wanted to. Alice’s eyes widened.

“That’s the thing. A massive amount of people disappear from the harbor every few decades. In the seventies, a camp cook chopped up a bunch of teenagers. Each one bled dry before they were dismembered. He was found dead, holding his son’s silver cross in one burned hand… His suicide note contained only one sentence: I am not a monster. In the forties, families built neighborhoods there. In one single night, all the adults drowned. None of the children remembered the events of that night, but they all said the last thing they remembered was a song lulling them to sleep. All separate homes… But the same lullaby-.”

“Yikes,” Laura whispered.

“Anything about the lighthouse?” I asked.

“Um… Let me check,” Alice whispered. She pulled a journal out of her bag and read through the most recent pages. It was eerily silent for several minutes. “Mhm… Actually, that’s probably the safest spot you can be at. That’s where they always find the survivors. In the seventies, they found a handful of kids holed up in the lighthouse… Scratch marks on the door, but no one could get in.”

“These would make for killer campfire stories,” Laura whispered, “Alice, do you have a cabin, or are you camping out like us? My tent has enough room for two, and Rol said I could set up camp by him.”

“Oh, we never told you our names. I’m Rol Purtha, and this is Laura Fell,” I introduced us. We shook her hands. They were cold, but not shockingly so.

“I’m setting camp, and it’d be great if you guys were nearby. I’m not gonna lie and say I don’t believe something awful is coming,” Alice confessed. I should’ve been scared, but I wasn’t. Something about the lighthouse frightened me more than the stories. I fell asleep sometime after that.

I dreamt of the water, but things were different. I sat in a rowboat as I washed up gently on the shore. The sky was a deep, reddish purple. It was warm, so I stuck my hand in the water. It was shockingly hot. I pulled my hand up, wrapping it in my sweater. I glanced down and gasped at the wet crimson as it soaked straight through the knitted cotton fabric of my cardigan. I fell out of the boat and woke up struggling for air. "Rol?" Laura whispered. She looked green around the gills. "Your nose is gushing blood."

Alice took a napkin from her bag, and I held it to my nose. “Thank you… That’s not-. This is embarrassing. I’ve been having these nightmares-.”

“Do you mind if I interview you about your nightmares after we set up camp?” Alice interrupted. I shook my head. I desperately wanted to explain my nightmares to someone, but it wouldn’t have made logical sense. Alice seemed like she’d look beyond logic if she noticed a pattern.

The ferry docked, and we got off and took the bus as far as it would take us. My nose had stopped bleeding, and I unfolded the map in my pocket. “How many miles are we from the beach?” Alice asked, adjusting the brim of her hat to hide her face.

“Eight miles-.”

“Let’s hitch it,” Alice suggested.

“Cool,” Laura smiled.

I wanted to argue with them, but eight miles seemed far. Alice stuck out her thumb as we walked along the side of the road, and a truck pulled over. “Headed to Happy Harbor?” the man yelled out the window. We nodded. “You three should be able to fit in the back.” We nodded and sat in the rear-facing seats. When we sat down, a little girl turned around and greeted us.

“Be careful,” she warned as she pointed to Laura. The man nudged the little girl. “You should put your seatbelt on.”

Laura edged closer to me, and we touched hands. Hers were ice cold. She recoiled and scooted closer to Alice. Alice stared at me with concern for my safety. The man drove for a short while and stopped at a grocery store. We all got out and picked up food for the trip. I bought a cooler and ice to hold the meat for breakfast. "I'll cook if you guys want," I offered.

I felt a tug at the bottom of my shirt. “Hey, Mister?” the little girl whispered.

“You can call me Rolly. What’s your name?” I asked. I took a knee, and she shook my hand.

“Helen… Rolly, don’t be afraid of the lighthouse,” Helen whispered. My breath caught as I looked at her serious little expression. “We’re taking the tour. Right, Uncle Hal?”

The man looked up from his magazine and grinned at her before frowning at something outside. “That’s right, Helen… And we better get going, because it looks like a storm’s coming,” Hal whispered, “Come on. Round up your friends, okay?”

I obeyed and we paid for our things, but the rain started soon after we got in the car. It poured and the roads were barely visible in the downpour. Hal didn’t seem concerned, though. He drove calmly through the storm while Helen fiddled with the radio. As we neared the campsite, Hal hit his brakes hard, and we collided with something. Everyone gasped and Hal got out of the car. I unbuckled my seatbelt and followed him. “I hit a coyote… He came out of nowhere!” Hal shouted. And that was the last thing I remember.

[supercorpkid]

It’s crossover season - Part 1

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Iron Man x TeamMate!Reader, Captain America x TeamMate!Reader, Doctor Strange x TeamMate!Reader, Thor x TeamMate!Reader, Black Widow x TeamMate!Reader, Hulk x TeamMate!Reader.

Word count: 2570.

For the Marvel fans: this is supposed to be happening between Age of Ultron and Civil War.

You’re in the living room with your moms. It’s Friday night and it’s Kara’s turn to pick the movie. It comes as no surprise when the three of you settle on the couch to watch Wizard of Oz, black and white version.

“Hey, you don’t want to miss this part!” Kara says when you stand up, so you can go to the kitchen to pick up more soda for yourself.

“You are aware this movie is not exactly new, right?” You ask and hear Lena’s chuckle in response.

“Can you get more wine for mom, baby?” Lena asks and you agree with your head, making your way to the kitchen despite Kara’s protests.

You finally picked up the soda can, wine bottle and some chocolates for the road when you hear a loud noise in the living room. You use your super speed to get there, and see Kara being pulled by a portal. But not any portal. Not Barry’s portal, or Cisco’ dimensional portals. Something completely different you never saw before.

“Momma!” You drop everything you’re holding and run to the portal, pushing Kara out of the way. So the portal sucks you in, instead.

“Kid, no!” You hear Kara’s voice and you see her on the other side, but it’s too late. Wherever this portal is heading to, you’re going.

“You’ll find me!” You yell back. And both of your moms faces disappear. “Please, find me.” You whisper.

You fall on the floor with a loud thud. You look around to four guys and one woman staring at you from across the room. You sure never saw them before. There’s a table in the middle. One of them is standing in front of it, staring right at you. He has dark hair, a weird beard style, and you can see something blue glowing on his chest, even though he is wearing a shirt. That’s guy number 1.

Guy number 2 is next to him, in much fancier and weirder clothes. He is wearing a cape (capes are lame, did he not get the memo?), and he also has a weird beard (you’re starting to think it’s fashion).

Sitting behind them is a red haired woman, all dressed in black. She has her legs up the table, giving off an ‘I don’t care about anything’ kind of vibe.

Next to her, guy number 3, is wearing a blue shirt very tight around his muscles, he is definitely the strongest, but his baby blue eyes give you the idea that he is sweet.

And last, guy number 4, is in the back. Arms crossed over, in his lab clothes and glasses. He looks like the sweet science guy.

“A kid!” Guy nº 1 says pointing at you, like no one else can see you’re sitting there in front of them. “I said: find us back-up, and you bring me a child, Strange?”

“I don’t think the child is supposed to be here.” Guy nº 2, or rather cape-guy, answers back.

“No shit, Einstein! It’s a kid!” Guy nº1 snaps back.

“Language!” You and Guy nº 3, baby blue eyes guy, make chorus.

“Great! Just what we needed, a mini Steve Rogers!”

“I’m not a kid!” You finally find something worth saying and you see some eyes rolling at that information.

“Excuse me, miss. The adults are talking.”

“Rude.” You stand up, putting your hands on your waist. “You’re the one who brought me here, mister…?”

“You don’t know who I am?” Guy nº1 asks, so full of himself.

“Should I?” Your answer makes all of his friends smile and try to cover up. He exhales, exasperated.

“I’m Tony Stark, kid.” You blink at him, like he said literally nothing. “I am Iron Man.” He answers like that sentence is supposed to impact you somehow. You shrug and look behind him. To the man with a cape.

“Doctor Strange.” He says with a nod. “I’m the one who brought you here.”

“Banner. Um, Bruce. Bruce Banner.” Lab coat guy answers. He seems sweet looking lost between these people, so you smile at him.

“Steve Rogers.” Baby-blue-eyed guy waves. “Captain America.”

“Natasha Romanoff.” The only other woman in the room adds. “Black Widow.”

“And we are the Avengers.” Mister Stark says and you bite your lips at the information. Should you know who the hell the Avengers are? You never once heard of them, and they all look too normal -except for Cape-guy- and too powerless. Although they could probably be thinking the same thing about you now, so you shouldn’t judge. For all you know, sweet small lab-coat guy in the back can be the most powerful ‘the Avengers’ of all time, and break you in half in one snap.

“Well, ‘the Avengers’ it’s very nice meeting all of you. But, well, if you all don’t mind, I would like to go back to my house and to my moms, please and thank you.” You say and Stark just sighs pointing at Strange.

“Strange, get the kid back to her moms and find someone who can really help in this fight.” He is looking less annoyed, and more tired. “We could seriously use some back-up for this.”

You furrow your brows at the sound of that. You can’t believe you’re even thinking about this, but then the words come out of your mouth before you can think twice or hold it back.

“I can be back-up.”

That could make anyone roll in their seats laughing, but they’re trying to be respectful, so Natasha covers her mouth so you don’t see her smile. Steve looks down with the same smile playing on his lips. Banner almost smiles too. Strange seems to study you for a second. But Stark is laughing hard at you. Ok, again, rude.

“What’s so funny? You said you need back-up. Cape-guy over there brought me here for a reason. I’m offering.”

“No offense kid, but you’re like 12.” Stark says and you roll your eyes.

“Offense very much taken, I’m 16!”

“Yes, well, you’re still a child who wants to go back to her mommies.” He mocks you, making you squint your eyes at him.

“Mister Stark, sir. May I ask what your powers are?”

“Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.” He says with a smirk on his lips.

“Oh, that’s it?” It’s time for you to smirk back. “I get now why you need back-up.”

“WOW!” That’s what leaves the whole group’s mouths.

“She’s got you there, Tony.” Banner chimes in, and you smile at yourself proudly.

“Oh really? What are your powers, smart mouth?” He asks thinking he has won, and that only makes you sorry for him.

“Genius, billionaire, I can’t really say that I’m a playboy, but I am a philanthropist.” Your smile comes after your feet leave the floor. “Also, I can fly.”

“So can most of the team.”

“Oh, then I guess most of the team also have super strength, super speed, freeze breath, heat vision, x-ray vision, invulnerability and draw their energies from the sun.”

“Holy shit.” Natasha says and you smile when you look at everyone’s impressed face.

“I think the child is supposed to be here.” Strange says and you agree with your head.

“She’s still a kid.” It’s what Stark says. “Cap, care to jump in here?”

Baby-blue-eyed guy stands up, walking towards you with a soft smile on his face. You smile back, landing on the floor.

“Ever been in a battle, kid?” He asks.

“Sure!” It’s what your mouth says, but deep inside you’re thinking this is insane. They didn’t want you; they didn’t go for you. They wanted your momma, who has real battle experience. You fought empty spaceships and won. Yay you. You have literally no other experience besides this one.

“Can you give us a minute?” Cap asks and you agree with your head, watching them going back to the table and closing the door in front of you. You sit on the floor, waiting for their decision. You want them to want you. It’s a weird feeling, but you want to be needed and respected, especially for your powers, since you don’t have a lot of that going around back home. But at the same time, you feel very scared of walking into a battle (is what he called, right?) with people who could definitely be your parents.

“She’s a kid, you guys can’t be seriously considering this.”

“She has more powers than all of us together, Tony.”

“You didn’t care about that when you recruited Wanda.”

“Wanda walked in on this by herself. Strange, how did we end up with a kid?”

“My magic was to bring someone powerful enough to help. She’s here. Which means she is powerful enough, otherwise the portal wouldn’t have pulled her here. I wasn’t aiming for a kid, but if a kid is what we got, we have to make-do.”

“I agree. She can be helpful.”

“Cap?”

“I don’t know guys, she-she looks twelve.”

“Steve gets it!”

“But she isn’t. She is sixteen. And she wants to help.”

“She is invulnerable, you know.”

“Fine, let’s take a vote. Who thinks the smart mouth should stay?”

You lower your glasses to see their hands. Natasha, Cap, Bruce and Strange raise their hands. You smile proud of yourself. Yeah! But also, no! Did you seriously just walk in a battle -that has nothing to do with you- on purpose?

The door opens a while later and you stand up, looking at ‘the Avengers’ on the other side. You have the biggest smile on your face.

“Oh, did I forget to mention I have super hearing?” You raise one eyebrow, and Stark sighs.

“Of course you do.” He rolls his eyes. “Do you even have a superhero name?”

“I’m Superkid.”

“It has kid in the name, I can’t take her seriously.” He bites back and looks around. “Come on, Strange, let’s try to get Thor back.”

“Wait.” You run after the two of them. “Mister Cape-guy, can you, um, just tell my moms I’m safe?”

“Don’t worry.” He reassures you. “I left a card.”

They resume walking and you look back at the rest of the team, still staring at you. You take a deep breath, and walk back to where they are.

“So, where am I?” You ask, looking at Cap, who just looks dumbfounded by your question.

“You’re on Earth, Superkid.”

“Right.” You laugh. “I meant, which Earth?”

“You mean there is more than one Earth?” Natasha asks and you shake your head agreeing.

“There are infinite Earths in the Multiverse.” You say, pulling up a chair and sitting across from them. “Mine is Earth-38, and the Flash lives on Earth-1, and the Titans on Earth-9, my cousin just joined. Oh, and there’s obviously Earth-X governed by the Nazis-”

“Wait, let me stop you right there.” Cap says, looking shocked by your revelations. “There’s an Earth where the Nazis won?”

“Well, Mister Cap, that’s what the multiverse is all about, isn’t it?” You clasp your hands in front of your body. “When a diversion event occurs, then a new Earth is created. Maybe you have a different name for that here, like alternative or parallel universe.” You look at Banner. “Elseworlds?”

“Right. Pardon us.” Cap says with a smile. “Well, Banner, I believe that big- brain of yours, is filled with questions for our big-brained guest. Don’t let us keep you from it. Nat and I will go get Sam, Bucky and Wanda.”

You wait for the two other Avengers to leave, and you look back at Bruce, finally sitting on the table.

“That’s a lot of people. Mister Stark, Cape-guy, Cap, Natasha, Thor, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, you…” You startle yourself when you count all of them on your fingers. That’s a hell of a team, bigger than the Justice League for sure.

“And it’s not even half of it.” He adds to your confusion.

“That’s a lot of super-heroes for only one Earth.” You look at him with puzzling eyes. “What is your super power, Mister Banner?”

“I-well-” He shuffles around looking embarrassed to say it. “You’ll see in a bit, I suppose.”

“Ok.” You decide to let it go; you don’t want to make him uncomfortable. “What are we up against?”

Apparently, you’re up against alien invasion. You make sure you ask a couple times (or more), if the aliens are actually evil, without informing you’re an alien too. But yes, a bad horde of aliens coming to this Earth very, very soon.

Banner has about 20 questions about the Multiverse. You try your best to explain to him what you know about it, but it seems like this time you’re not even in the same Multiverse. Is there a multiverse of a multiverse?

Talking to Banner is great. He knows so much; you feel dumb around him. Is this how Jamie and Maya feel when you’re explaining something a little too far from their grasp? You don’t know how much time you two are bonding over science, when you hear a thunder sound and lightning falling close to where you are, and run to the window to check what’s going on. Soon, you see a guy, hammer in hand with lightning coming out of it. You look back at Banner, who smiles shyly.

“That would be Thor.”

“Can I?” You point at the window. You don’t know exactly why you’re asking for permission. You just don’t want to seem impolite.

“Of course.” He says and you open the window flying to where Thor is. Oh, he is strong. And he looks extremely powerful. You can’t control the excitement when he turns to you.

“New member?” He asks and you shrug as your answer. “I am Thor, son of Odin.”

“Superkid, daughter of Kara and Lena?”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Superkid-daughter-of-Kara-and-Lena.” Thor says with a puppy smile on his face. He puts his hammer on the ground and looks to the people coming from behind you to greet him. “Ready for battle?”

He reminds you so much of Kara. Puppy smile, blond hair, kind of dorky. You smile too, feeling your heart burst in excitement.

“I am now, Mister Thor.”

He pushes his cape out of his way, smile still on his lips, making his way inside the compound. You look at the way he walks, his muscles, long hair and red cape flying behind him. Wait, have you once said capes are lame? You take it back. Capes are the coolest! You look at his hammer on the ground with puzzling eyes.

“Mister Thor!” You call for him. He turns around to look at you, and the rest of the team also stops to watch you. You walk to the hammer, picking it up from the floor, and pointing at him. “You’ve left your hammer!”

“WHAT THE FUCK!”

Post-credit scene:

“Oh, how polite, they left a card.” Lena picks it up from the floor. “They kidnapped our daughter and left a card.”

“What does it say?” Kara asks, standing up from the floor, where she has been crying for the past two minutes.

“177A, Bleecker St. New York.”

“They left a puzzle?” Kara takes the card away from Lena’s hand. “They took my daughter and left a puzzle? What kind of villain does that?”

“It’s an address, Kara.” Lena holds her shoulder. “Don’t worry, honey. We’ll find her.”

Notes:

So @oncemoonie prompted a marvel crossover and I am having so much fun with this, I hope you guys are too, cause more is coming!

[amiedala]

Something More (the mandalorian x reader)

CHAPTER 3: TO TRUST

Rated: Explicit (not this chapter, but future chapters will be)

Warnings: descriptions of violence

Summary: “What…” he starts.

“You got hit—” you interrupt.

“…Are you wearing?” Mando finishes, and your cheeks flush, looking down at his giant shirt you never changed out of.

“I was—when you called, I was in the fresher,” you say, scooting slightly closer to him, resting on both knees. “I didn’t have time to put anything else on before you told me to hide.”

“Oh,” he sighs, and then he’s pushing himself off the floor despite literally every single warning you spurt at him, and finally, he’s up against the same wall you’re leaning against. The space is small, small enough that two people would be pushing it, and the fact that one of those people is much larger than the other and in giant beskar armor means that your forehead is almost flush against the visor when he turns his head into you. Your breath catches in your chest. It’s not lost on you that in the heat of the moment, you didn’t run. You ignored where you were, and you forged on to save him. That didn’t happen the last time you were on this planet and the fact that belonging to something—to someone—was enough to push past the fear and do it anyway sung inside you.

The baby is in your face. You startle awake to a sea of green. He babbles as you jolt up, clapping his tiny hands together in celebration. He’s all swaddled up in his own robes, but he’s so much warmer than you are, and you groan as he hops up against you, fingers beating around your arm as you bring him in closer to your chest, hoping to leech off his warmth. Slowly, painfully, you push yourself off the ground and push on your neck to make it crack, the pain shooting up behind your eyes like starfire. You don’t want to see what shape your belly’s in.

“Good morning,” you slur through sleep, as the baby giggles and pushes into you. You just stay there, half awake, slouched against the wall of the ship, when suddenly the baby is being plucked from your arms and you’re staring into beskar.

It’s not lost on you that you’re at eye level with the Mandalorian’s crotch, and while you try your hardest to not let your gaze linger there in an obvious way, your eyes stutter once or twice looking up to where the helmet is.

“You’re awake.”

“Barely.”

He kneels so that you’re almost at eye level, and he’s dangerously close to you again. You feel your cheeks flush, the rush low in your belly, deeper than your injury, deep down somewhere warm.

“I need to see you.”

“Huh?” You manage, and hope it’s not as croaky as it seems.

“Your stomach. I need to make sure you don’t need a shot or to get checked out by a professional.”

You nod as his fingers slip under the hem of your shirt, going slow, giving you a chance to stop him if you want. You want to sit on your hands and just let him take it all the way off, but you try to focus your brain elsewhere. Literally anywhere else. You fail. His hands are just as large as last night.

“You’re telling me you’re not a professional?”

“I know how to take care of injuries. I mean… a nurse droid, or something.”

“Last time I checked, this was an injury,” you pressed, a smile breaking out of your face faster than you can control it. “And you hate droids.”

“The injuries I usually take care of are my own. I can gauge how bad the pain is, how deep the cut goes. I’m not inside you,” he says, and it’s so fast that you think you imagined it, “so I can’t tell how bad it is.”

You blink at him, stunned into silence. Your heart is so loud and fast you’re terrified he can hear it. In the background, the baby is staring at you with his giant, magic eyes, and you know he can hear it, the little womp rat, the way he’s smiling at you. “Not bad.”

The Mandalorian taps your stomach, not enough to really hurt you, but enough to startle the bruise. You wince. “Bad,” he says, simply, point proven.

You let him check you out and argue about how it wasn’t that bruised, and it ached but you could move, and finally, very begrudgingly, he let you stand. You tried to gesture him up the ladder to the cockpit, but he shook his head, arms crossed.

“You first.”

You squint at him, shocked by his brazenness, shocked that he’s insinuating watching below you as you ascend the ladder, and your tummy does full back flips before you realize that he’s probably waiting to make sure you have enough working muscles in your abdomen to keep yourself upwards as you climb. You’re thankful you’re going up first, now, with the way you’re blushing again.

The ladder is a beast, but you’re up, and you’re not hurting that bad, so you make your way over to the chair where you usually hold the baby and fall into it. The ship is hurtling through hyperspace, smoother than the X-Wing did, but still shakily, and you have to avert your eyes from the rush of it because it’s starting to make you dizzy. Something brushes your leg, and you realize it’s the Mandalorian’s cape, worn and tattered, but fluttering past you even in the cockpit, and you bring a knee to your aching chest to hide your smile as he breezes past you to the pilot’s seat.

“Are you hungry?”

You can’t tell who he’s talking to until the baby looks at you, bug-eyed and questioning. “Not really.”

“You need to eat something.”

“I will. I can’t eat too soon after I wake up or I get sick. I don’t think vomiting would do my stomach any favors.”

He cocks his helmet back at you and you smile again, jutting your chin into your hand. He’s silent, but it isn’t an unsettling one. After sleeping a foot from him last night, you don’t think his silence will ever make you feel unsettled or uneasy again. It’s just there, permeating, surrounding both of you. You want to ask him a million things, and you don’t know which one to pick, but you also don’t want to force anything through the quiet.

It feels like hours have passed by the next time you open your mouth. You want to ask him where you’re headed again, but what falls out instead is, “Do you even know my name?”

He looks back at you, swings his helmet back to center, and then spins the entire chair around instead. “What?”

“I’ve been living here for almost a month,” you realize, counting the days on your fingers. “I babysit your kid. You trust me with your ship,” you say, looking up at the stars flying past the Crest. “Do you know my name?”

He stares at you. The helmet is obscuring his vision, but you know he’s staring at you. You can feel his eyes on your face, looking how your lips are parted, your hair still piled in a mess on your head.

“Of—” he starts, and then both of you are thrown sideways. Something on the dashboard is blaring, and before you can haul yourself off the floor, the Mandalorian is extending a hand to you as he navigates the ship out of hyperspace. You scramble back to the chair and buckle in, grabbing onto the baby’s floating cradle so that he won’t get knocked around either. You want to ask if the Mandalorian needs your help, but as quickly as the ship fell into disarray, the beeping stops. Your heart is hammering.

“What was that—?”

“I forgot about the shields,” he muttered under his breath, and then you look outside the window, and you realize where you are. You swallow, looking out at the planet in front of you, wide and purple and all-encompassing. You fold your legs up under yourself, not focused on anything except where you’re headed. There’s a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, hungry and roaring.

“Hey,” his voice filters back in, and it’s sharp, and you look over at him, trying to look neutral. You can tell it’s not working. “Did you hurt yourself when you fell again?”

“No,” you whisper, and then repeat it louder, “No, I’m okay. I just wasn’t expecting to…be back here anytime soon.”

The Crest pulls through the planet’s atmosphere, and you breathe a sigh of relief that you aren’t anywhere close to the heart of Galactic City, that wherever the bounty’s new coordinates were, it was on the opposite side of where you had been the last time you were here. Besides, you were staying on the ship, and you didn’t have to breathe any of the air of the planet if you didn’t want to. You swallowed, and as he pulled into a landing bay, you realize the Mandalorian’s helmet is still trained on you.

“You’re not a fan,” he says. It’s not a question. “Of Coruscant.”

“No,” you say, and you don’t elaborate because you’re not sure if you can without your voice shaking.

He keeps his visor trained on you, and you try to smile, but you’re afraid it’ll come out looking more like fear. “I’ll be quick,” he says, and his voice is low, honest. It reminds you of the way he talks to the kid, not to you, but you’re too shaken by being thrown out of hyperspace and landing on the planet you almost died on to understand the significance of his cadence. “Come downstairs with me.”

You follow him, aware of his gaze on your body as you descend the ladder. In any other circumstance, you could feel it burning straight through you, but you were too focused on trying not to fall. Silently, you match his footsteps as he walks over to the armory. His body is so large, so present, that you focus on the beskar and try to keep moving. The Mandalorian pushes a lever and the armory opens, and you blink at all the metal as your eyes adjust.

“Pick one.”

Hazily, you remember he told you to pick a weapon last night, and you let your eyes survey all the glinting metal before you settle on a small blaster, one that looks like a cousin of the one you lost in your crash landing. Similar enough to be strapped to your thigh in the same belt you still have around your waist, and you fit it in there triumphantly. You give the Mandalorian a half smile, and he nods, shutting the case.

It’s dark in the Razor Crest, even in Coruscant’s glitz and glamour. You rest your head against the wall, suddenly exhausted.

“I’ll be quick,” the Mandalorian repeats after prolonged silence, after you’ve made it clear you aren’t going to say anything else. “You stay here, with the doors locked. Sleep more, if you need it.” He tosses you something, and you don’t catch it in time. You bend down to grab it, but his hand is already around it, glancing off your hand for a second too long as he presses it into your palm. “This is to be used for emergencies,” he says. You stare at it. It’s a commlink, a new, fancy one. You nod. “If… if something happens, or if…” he trails off, cocking his head at you, “if I need you to come get me, you just press this button, and you can talk to me.”

He lingers for a second longer and then descends the gangplank, and it isn’t until he’s gone that his words fully register.

If you have to come get him? That’s new.

“Hey!” you call, and you know he can’t hear you anymore, but you can’t help yourself, “what constitutes as an emergency?”

  Hours pass. One, slowly, and then two, and then three. You finally eat, you make sure the baby has too. You think about showering, but you haven’t been able to lift your arms above your head since you got your stomach bruised yesterday, so you lay spread eagled on the floor babbling halves of songs and whatever random thought runs through your head. You do everything you can to not look outside at the planet around you, to ruminate on the sleek buildings. You haven’t been on Coruscant for years, not since you were first out on your own when you were still a teenager, and you’ve tried everything in you to forget what happened the last time you were on the planet’s surface.

The baby coos at your feet, and you prop yourself up on your forearms, still sore. It doesn’t ache as much as it did this morning, and your bruises have turned this ugly yellow color around the edges, but you can flex without agony, which definitely means you’re just banged up.

“Hi bug,” you say, and he giggles, climbing up onto your sore belly, and you groan. “Hi. What’s up?”

He makes a series of noises, and you can’t understand him like his father clearly can, but you can gather the gist of what he’s saying. He’s babbling away, now pointing his tiny finger up to the ceiling, and you pretend you know exactly what he means.

“You’re absolutely right. Mhm, yep, I know. Is that true?”

He claps his hands together.

“You’re right, again, you little womp rat. Excellent point.”

He giggles.

“You’re much cuter than a womp rat, you know.” You pause. “I gotta tell you though, buddy, I don’t know what a womp rat looks like.”

He gasps, all awe. You look at him. There’s something about the kid, something magical, something that feels…elevated. You look into his big eyes, and you see yourself. You know that it’s because the things are huge, but it’s that same gnawing intuition in your belly that you had when you first met the Mandalorian, the same one that told you to crash land on Nevarro instead of trying to make it somewhere else, the same one that got you out of Coruscant the last time—you shake your head, trying to clear it from your head. You softly touch the baby’s nose, just once, and he giggles and climbs into your arms.

It doesn’t take long until you start itching for something else to do, so you peel yourself off the cockpit’s floor and start cleaning, using part of your torn shirt to dust off the dashboard and the pilot’s seat, humming ancient lullabies under your breath. You stop short when you realize you’re singing, and you double check the air locks, making sure you’re safe in here. You don’t dare to put on the radio, and you don’t sing louder than under your breath, because even though you have the new blaster strapped to your hip, the memory of yesterday is still too recent in your head. It isn’t long until you find yourself in the tiny room where the fresher is, looking at yourself in the mirror for the first time in days.

Your eyes are wild, that’s the first thing you notice. Frazzled, on edge, the kind of gleam that you used to get flying in the Alliance, but without the pride and the adrenaline. Your hair is a hot mess. You touch the lock of hair the Mandalorian pushed behind your ear last night, reverently, softly. Your shirt is ripped and stained to hell, and your necklace is hanging at a strange angle, the chain link touching the insignia, totally off kilter. You see the small blaster on your hip catch the light, and you pull it out of its hold. It’s shiny, sturdy, and much newer than the one you lost in the fire. You’ve never been a perfect shot, but the gun fits in your hand as well as the old one did, and when you hold it, you feel confident enough to know how to cock it back and pull the trigger, and you think you probably hit the target.

You look forlornly at the shower, and before you can think about how sore you are, you strip the rest of your clothes off, leaving the gun and the commlink on the small counter beside the mirror. You’re planning to be quick, just a rinse and scrubbing soap off of the leftover blood and grime from the night before, but when the water hits, it’s warm and inviting and it envelops you. You let it unfurl your messy hair from your head, let it permeate into your sore shoulders and all the way down your spine, temporarily washing away the years of nights spent sleeping in uncomfortable positions on makeshift beds. You touch your fingers over your belly, following the scar straight down to where it drifts off on the left side of your stomach. It doesn’t hurt anymore, but the bruises resist your fingers. You reach for the soap, and it’s blindly, and you don’t realize until you’ve been scrubbing for a minute that it’s very much not the subtle lavender scent you picked up a few bounties back, but the Mandalorian’s. It smells like clean wood and leather and strangely, cinnamon, that amalgamation of freshness that fades off skin slowly. You push the full bar up to your nose, and when you breathe in you can almost see it lathering into his skin, can almost feel your tongue licking clean up against it if he was in here with you—you catch yourself. Again. It’s there again, the arousal and want that had been long dormant before you ever met the Mandalorian. He’s infiltrated everything. You shake water out of your hair and think of anything else while your hands slip down the rest of your body, trying and failing to forget the way his voice got low when he found you hurt, how he touched you, how he held your throat with a singular hand—

Something is making noise, and you force yourself out of your fantasy to the sound. “Hey,” comes a disembodied voice, and your wet hand fumbles for the blaster before you realize it’s coming from the commlink. You sigh, turning off the water, tripping out of the fresher, scrambling to pick it up.

“Are you okay?”

“I need you to come get me.”

You stare at the commlink, then at your reflection in the mirror. You don’t have clothes on. Come to think of it, you don’t know if you have clothes to change into, and you’ve suddenly been promoted to getaway driver.

“Can you hear me?”

Even through the modulator, his voice is deep. You startle yourself out of your reverie.

“Yes. I’m sorry. I need a minute—”

“I’m going to give you coordinates,” the Mandalorian says, and then there’s a huge blast, and silence.

“Hey. Hey! Mando—”

“I’m here,” he says, but it’s gruff. “Dank ferrik. I’m hit. Here are the coordinates.”

You scramble out of the fresher, looking for clothes. You can’t find anything, and your bag must still be upstairs in the cockpit, so you shove open the alcove where the Mandalorian sleeps in a desperate attempt. There’s a shirt, just a shirt, but it falls to your knees and you make your compromise with the underwear you stepped out of before the shower. “I’m coming. Please hold on. Pleaaaaase hold on,” you whisper, low enough that you hope he can’t hear your wheedling, and then you’re up the ladder, your hair wet and wild, dripping on the cockpit floor.

“Do you have your blaster?”

“Um,” you say as you navigate the Crest out of the landing bay—hell, this ship doesn’t know how to move. “Yes?” You scramble down the ladder and back up again with your blaster in hand. You punch in the coordinates and let the ship go into autopilot as you scramble back down the ladder and grab the gun, wrapping your wet hair up in a towel.

“Grab the kid and put him in his cradle,” the Mandalorian says, and you do, and the wild look in the baby’s eyes makes you give him a quick kiss before you shut the crib and push him into the darkest corner.

“I’m almost here,” you say, and you can see what he was talking about. You’re still not near the hustle and bustle of Galactic City, but Coruscant has layers, each of them grittier than the last. The Mandalorian is attached to what you hope to the Maker is his quarry, lugging the conspicuous body up a hill, blasting at what looks like twenty other men. “I’m here. I’m gonna land—”

“You need to get out of sight,” he manages, and the commlink goes quiet. You do your best to land the ship—it’s not handling well at all—and then scamper down the ladder for the third time in wet feet. You grab the baby’s floating egg and your blaster, strapping the commlink to your wrist, and scrambling into the little alcove that holds the Mandalorian’s bed.

There’s a minute before he enters the ship, and everything is quiet. You huddle at the back of the chamber, the baby next to you with the blaster in your hand. Your towel has come loose and there are wet chunks of hair in your face, and you wait in the silence before he comes in. The cot is tiny, and not that comfortable, but this small space smells like his soap and the dirt he carries around, and despite it feeling lumpy in all the wrong place, you could absolutely fall asleep here, surrounded by him. It distracts you, and you hum lowly in your throat before you hear the hiss of the gangplank and you swallow all the air.

You’ve been seen by bounties before, they’ve made comments about you, and then they’ve been frozen in carbonite. A few looked dangerous, a few were just creepy, but the Mandalorian always let you handle yourself around them. This is the first time he’s ever told you to get out of sight, and you don’t know if it’s because the events of last night are still fresh in his mind, or because whoever he captured was dangerous. You wait with bated breath as you hear blows land, and when it’s been quiet for what you gauge is long enough before you peek out of the alcove. The Mandalorian is on the ground, and you can’t tell if he’s just resting after a fight until someone peeks back at you and you pull the trigger the second the alcove doors fly open. You rocket up on your knees, punching one arm out at a swaying body before he hits the ground, and the Mandalorian comes to. The man on the ground is livid, swinging at your bare feet, and you kick him backwards, not gracefully, but powerfully enough, and he collides with the carbonite gas, and before the Mandalorian can get to his feet, you press the button. The blue faced bounty is frozen, instantly, and you gasp in air as you sag back on the Mandalorian’s bed.

“What did I say about getting out of sight?”

“I did,” you manage, between gasps, “and then you got knocked out.”

He trains his visor on you, and you smile victoriously for a full second before you realize his hand is bloody. You follow it down to the slip in the beskar and see that there’s a nasty gash under where his hand is pressed.

“You’re hurt.” You scramble forward, grabbing the towel off your head. Your hair falls in your face, and it definitely smells like his soap, but you’re not sure if he’s conscious enough to notice. “Hey. Hey you. Mando. Stay awake.”

“’M fine,” he slurs, and you want to pull the helmet clean off his head and look into his eyes when you tell him to shut up.

“Definitely not fine,” you say, pulling him down to the ground with you. It’s messy, you know that much, and you know he has some bacta patches hidden around you, but you need the bleeding to stop. “Hey. Listen to me. I have to take this off,” you say, gesturing at the plate at his midriff. “You’re hit, I think it was a blast, but I need to make sure.”

“No,” he says, and you grab his visor and drop to your knees on his left side, pushing your palm flat against it.

“I’m not going to look at anything except the cut. You weren’t hit in the head, were you?”

“No,” he repeats, and you nod.

“Okay, then I’m not gonna see your face. I won’t look at anything else except the cut. But you’re losing blood, fast, and there’s definitely people shooting at the ship, and I need to make sure you’re okay before I get us the hell out of here.”

He nods. It’s small, but you catch it.

You inhale sharply when you lift the small piece of armor. He’s bleeding, but the wound is small, and you’re able to shove the towel on it to suffocate the blood while your hand flutters around in the small hold behind you until you can find ointment and the bacta patches. “Hey. Mando.” His hand finds your free wrist, and you stop investigating the ointment to look at him. “What?” you ask, your voice softer.

“Cauterize,” he manages, and you look back and forth between him and the wound, and you shake your head.

“It’s not that bad,” you promise, checking to see if the blood has started to clot around the wound. “Look, it’s gonna hurt for a few days, but the bleeding is slowing down, and I can give you this ointment and then put the bacta patch over it, and you’re going to be okay.”

He flails at your arm again, and before you can realize what you’re doing, you straddle him, one hand on his abdomen against the stifled wound, and one reaching up to touch his helmet, as lightly as you can, in some desperate attempt to soothe him, “I promise, I know when a wound needs cauterizing.” You point at your own stomach, hoping he’ll remember the scar. He nods again, and you exhale. “I swear, I’m going to fix it right now, okay?”

You pull the towel away and press the ointment into his skin. You can tell it stings, he hisses and groans through the modulator, and if you weren’t so preoccupied with trying to save his life, your brain would have fixated on the noises he was making as you straddled him. Once the bacta patch was secure and you were sure that it held, your fingers grazed over his bare skin. It was golden, soft to the touch, such a stark contrast to the shiny silver beskar exoskeleton that you stopped just for a moment to stare at it. You touched as lightly as you could, and once you were positive that he had stopped bleeding, you pulled his undershirt down and reattached the armor, sliding sideways off of him, resting against the same wall for the second time in two days.

It took a few minutes and lots of nervous babbling from the baby, but the Mandalorian finally eased himself back into consciousness, and when you heard him stir, you whipped around.

“What…” he starts.

“You got hit—” you interrupt.

“…Are you wearing?” Mando finishes, and your cheeks flush, looking down at his giant shirt you never changed out of.

“I was—when you called, I was in the fresher,” you say, scooting slightly closer to him, resting on both knees. “I didn’t have time to put anything else on before you told me to hide.”

“Oh,” he sighs, and then he’s pushing himself off the floor despite literally every single warning you spurt at him, and finally, he’s up against the same wall you’re leaning against. The space is small, small enough that two people would be pushing it, and the fact that one of those people is much larger than the other and in giant beskar armor means that your forehead is almost flush against the visor when he turns his head into you. Your breath catches in your chest. It’s not lost on you that in the heat of the moment, you didn’t run. You ignored where you were, and you forged on to save him. That didn’t happen the last time you were on this planet and the fact that belonging to something—to someone—was enough to push past the fear and do it anyway sung inside you.

“I know,” the Mandalorian says, and you inhale, hoping you didn’t just unintentionally say all of that out loud.

“What?”

He sighs, and it comes out through the modulator, but he’s not annoyed. You can tell that much through his filtered air—you know when he’s exasperated, and more and more lately, it hasn’t been directed towards you.

“Your name.”

You swallow. “Say it.”

He does. Perfectly. “It suits you. Names…Mine has only been shared once since I became a Mandalorian. I was on my deathbed, and that’s the only reason. I haven’t named the kid. He might already have one, but I don’t know it, so I don’t use it.”

You nod against the visor, your head touching his helmet. The beskar is surprisingly warm, and you pause there for a second, not wanting to move it away.

“Names don’t hold significance to me,” he whispers, and it cuts through the darkness of the hull of the ship. “I don’t need them to trust someone.”

You want to say you understand, even if you don’t entirely get it, but he sighs again and then you think he’s asleep, his helmet sliding down to the crook between your head and your shoulder. If you reached with your pinky, it could interlink with his gloved one, and you wait a few minutes to be sure he’s okay. When you hook his pinky with yours, he breathes, cinches it at the knuckle, and fades off into sleep.

[obeymeluv]

You Steal the Boys’ Clothes

Something I’ve been thinking of for a while.

Lucifer

It was rare the eldest was without his cape, as everything seemed to be a formal event and he must be dressed to impress. Being dressed to impress, however, means being clean so he gets it cleaned from time to time

Lucifer is a very organized, practical man. Constantly towing the line of obsessive for the sake of orderliness.

He knows where his cape should be, and that it’s not there

With a demon’s-only screech that warns Mammon to stretch his calves and run, Lucifer hunts down the three most likely suspects to interrogate them (Mammon, Satan, and Belphegor).

He tries to get a two-for-one by dragging Mammon into the study where Satan sits smugly with a book (because he knows he didn’t do it but MAN is he enjoying this!)

Imagine surprising not one, but THREE demons when you come shuffling down the hall with a Lucifer’s cape wrapped around you like a blanket.

It whispers and it drags and it absolutely DROWNS you.

Very charming. Ethereal, almost like some sort of wedding wear

Lucifer would’ve never imagined you’d be the culprit, and now his poor brain is trying to save and process the idea of you looking so sleepy-happy in his clothes

And the ex-angel falls all over again.

He catches the little cheek nuzzle and way you bunch it around your body, a foot poking out not to get tangled

Satan and Mammon will probably die laughing instead of at his hands, but Lucifer could really care less

Lucifer idly wonders where you’d curled up that he totally missed you, and escorts you gently but red-faced to your room

Satan and Mammon tag along, and when they see Lucifer come out with his cape they can only deduce he put you to bed.

Mammon

With no homework to do and some money in the bank, Mammon was ready to spend the weekend tearing up the town with you!

He was fresh out of the shower and mostly dressed, searching feverishly for his beloved white and brown jacket

Mammon wasn’t the cleanest person by nature (hello, money hoarder and collector of interesting/valuable things) so he tidied up as he went

As he started to suspect one of his little brothers was holding the jacket for ransom, he sent out a group text asking about it

There were several typical smart-ass responses (Lucifer, Asmo, and Satan) and he was in the middle of a snark fight when you showed up at his door somewhere between bashful and chill

In HIS jacket

Mammon’s brain shuts down.

HIS baby in HIS jacket? HELL YEAH! OH GOD, IT’S TOO PERFECT!

FIEND, TAKING HIS HEART!

“It’s kind of a human thing,” you explain. “There is a one-jacket fee among couples. Usually it’s a hoodie.” you tease, reluctant to shrug it off, “But this seems to be your only jacket so I guess I could give it back.”

It’s very subtle, but he’s worn that jacket for centuries and no amount of detergent can disguise the scent that makes his heart skip a beat

Something about the smell of your skin and a hint of his has him purring

You hold the jacket out to him. Mammon wraps his fingers around it and swings it around until he’s holding it over one shoulder

The yellow takes over in his eyes a little more. Gets a little brighter and intense.

“You want to take anything else off?” he husks playfully

Your day out turns into staying in and Mammon is happy to trade his jacket for a shirt you can sleep in (like, forever. It’s fine. Whatever, dummy.)

Leviathan

It was actually really hard to steal Levi’s clothes because he lived in his hoodie and turtleneck. His RAD uniform was really just for show and that wasn’t what you were looking for, anyways. You didn’t want to chill in uniform.

He was very particular about his merch because certain shirts were collector’s items and he didn’t like people messing with his folding patterns

You went to Asmo with your dilemma and he found it absolutely ADORABLE. It was almost enough to make him jealous, really

Somehow (Asmo being Asmo?), the fifth- born was able to swipe one of the green button-ups Levi wore under his RAD uniform

His first thought was to alter the garment to make it fit you (matching outfits? YES!) but Levi would probably kill him. His big bro hated shopping for clothes unless he HAD to have them.

Asmo gets the bright idea to magically/temporarily alter the fabric to fit you. Maybe Levi will like it so much he’ll just give you a shirt! 💖 (Or get some fucking outside time and go buy more shirts!)

Levi catches his own scent somewhere outside of the door and his brain goes off. He hits the pause button at lightning speed.

No one else smells like him! They haven’t shared bath products in centuries! He already finished his laundry so what’s happening?!

His first thought is: Mammon broke into my room while I was in the bathroom and stole something to pawn!

Levi doesn’t even think to take inventory of his stuff, barging out of his room to hunt down his big brother

He’s yelling and whining before he even sees him. Then he sees you. In his shirt.

All the angry words die in his throat as the absolute mortification and adoration sets his face on fire

SO KAWAII! It basically makes up for your normie-ness.

Levi’s stuck standing there, blushing his head off and unable to say anything as his fists shake with joy and nervousness

He gets a nosebleed. One of his brothers are laughing at him.

You guide him back to his room to take care of him, Levi lets you and becomes very fascinated with the idea of you in his clothes .Lots of petting and figuring out you look DOUBLY MEGA CUTE when the magic wears off and you’re just in a pool of fabric.

He’s totally down for matching clothes and definitely lets you keep the one you’re wearing.

Satan

His wardrobe is very...interesting...to say the least

Colors and personal combinations aside, Satan actually has a very smart wardrobe. Lots of basics and easy layers.

You can’t steal his signature green sweater or the blazer he seems to live in, so you settle for an emerald knit sweater that has a bit of a v-neck/university feel to it

It takes Satan a while to notice, as he’s buried in a book. You two tend to gravitate towards each other and just enjoy a cozy, companionable silence

He’s just finished a book and is debating cracking open one from the stack to his left when the color catches his eye

The smooth, sly comment dies on his lips when he realizes he likes the damn thing because IT’S HIS

You look very cozy and warm. It’s a very ‘cuddle me’ kind of look.

Perhaps you could warm his lap? Or give his poor hands a rest under the hem?

Very cheeky and clever. Grabs you by the sleeve of it just to ‘answer his curiosity about whether it matched his nails’.

Does he have a cute university student kink? If he didn’t, he does now?

There’s a 50-50 chance of you guys having sex.

Will definitely want to hold you and cuddle you close, petting the fabric and whispering compliments into it.

If you don’t already have a business/academic attire, Satan will definitely suggest a few pieces because YES. This is a thing he loves and it DOES things to him.

Asmodeus

He’s the type to let you think you stole something

Probably stages what he wants you to steal just so you take it

Honestly, I could just see him dumping some of his clothes on you because you’re dating now and this is a cute thing he read about!

It’s super likely he’s into couple outfits or coordinating outfits, so he’s either spent time in his closet pre-planning or asked you to try on a million things just because

This cutie pie purposely orders THE BIGGEST thing he can find so you can both fit in it at the same time

Asmo loves you to pieces no matter what, but seeing you in his clothes makes him squeal and hit a note Mammon has threatened to murder him over

Ever dramatic, this is like, THE BEST THING EVER

A MILLION Devilgram posts about it (safe ones, of course)

Do you guys spark a couple’s trend and spade of lover’s stealing each other’s clothes to snap a victory pic? Maybe

Probably fake faints at the sheer glory of you in HIS bomb ass clothes. Definitely fans himself

Spoils you rotten with compliments

This man is weak. “Gorgeous! Smother me.” as he falls back on the bed and gestures to his face

He won’t turn down the idea of sexy times (depends on your libido, comfort, etc.) but sometimes he makes raunchy jokes just to be funny. Smothering could also mean using him like a body pillow (which he’s totally okay with).

You get max cuddles and WILL be the envy of Devilgram

Beelzebub

Beel felt a little guilty for leaving you at the House of Lamentation with his brothers

You guys were supposed to hang out after school but there was an emergency practice. The coach always got pre-game jitters and demanded a few last runs. He showered and ran back to the House, hoping you still had time for him.

He tiptoed quietly into his shared room, unsurprised to find you waiting there for him. You’d been caught in Belphie’s sleepy little aura by the looks of it,

Beelzebub couldn’t help the grin or little hum that made it past his lips. Your eyes were open but he didn’t know if you actually saw him. You looked super cute in his humongous bed though

You were getting sleepier and sleepier, your eyelids getting heavier and heavier. Beel pulled the sheets over you and gentle untangled the arm you managed to latch on to

Maybe waking up to a bit of food would make up for everything! Beel toiled away in the kitchen, making a cute little snack tray for the two of you.

In reality, it could probably feed at least twenty, and he ate at least half of what he prepped.

Beel returned to the room with what he considered a decent amount (scraps, kind of, but enough variety! He tried! It’s the thought that counts!) and was surprised to see his sheets all tangled and half-kicked from the bed

You were wearing his jacket now, passed out and turned into the furry lining that usually went across his shoulders and neck

DId you sleep walk? He was trying to understand how you’d gotten into his jacket

Beel realized it was the first time you’d been in his clothes and it was enough to make his heart melt

Super huge on you, obviously (extra fabric everywhere), but so cute! He could basically swaddle you in his jacket

“They’re a restless sleeper,” Belphie yawned. “I thought it would help them calm down.”

It used to work on Belphie, so Beel could see why he resorted to it

Beel offered his twin some food, sitting carefully on your other side.

He shifted some of the parka fur away from your face, trying to fix your hair and nudge your chin up so your nose wasn’t buried in anything. He stroked your cheek a little, mesmerized by the sight of you and how you felt.

Belphie declined, muttering something about, ‘Stop looking like that and eat your food! Gross!’ before Beel settled for patting your head one last time and eating quietly

Belphegor

He’s another one that’s hard to steal from

You’d think it’d be easy since he sleeps all the time, but Belphie really only wears 10% of the clothes he buys

Yes, he’s a pajama snob and has all things comfy and cozy, but hardly any of them smell like him because he falls asleep anywhere with little issue (no special clothes required!)

You thought about stealing his blue cardigan with the pocket, but he’s always sleeping in it!

Belphie picks up on your train of thought, and the frustration, because you fall asleep thinking about it. Dreaming about coyly stealing his cardigan and being all cute and snuggly in bed

It’s enough to wake him up, shuffle to you, and break your sleep. He flops down on your bed with his cardigan unbuttoned and says ‘climb on’ while patting his chest

You’re obviously sleepy and confused and he loves it. Belphie slides you onto his chest and wraps his arms around you, resting bits of the fabric on your back as you settle into him

It’s not the same but it’s close enough

Would you be offended if he got you cow pajamas so he could snuggle you like his favorite pillow? He falls asleep wondering about the answer

He wakes up to see that Beel has covered the two of you with his favorite blanket.

You in his blanket? Against him? Slowly smelling of him and his clothes? It’s the best thing to fall asleep to.

Makes a joke out of your clothes-stealing quest by stripping one of his pillowcases off and putting you in it like a little sack. You have to stay on his bed now because you’re his pillow and all pillows stay on the bed.

“What? You wanted to smell like me! It’s something I use!“ Belphie defends as you wonder whether or not you like this human pillow thing while he snuggles you.

[disneydarlin]

The Disney Princesses Cross Dressing

The original idea was to find gender-bend pictures of the Disney Princesses and their Princes together. However, this didn’t work out. Instead, an artist by the name of Haruki Godo, created a handful of artworks on DeviantArt for the princesses dressed in their partner’s masculine clothes. The best thing about these particular illustrations is they aren’t overly sexualized.

1. Snow White: Singing is what brought this princess and her lover, the Prince, together. In fact, they only share a song and exchange a flirtatious kiss through a pair of doves before the movie cuts to black. Nothing else is explained about the couple’s relationship or why the Prince leaves his woman instead of taking her back to his castle like at the end. Regardless, Snow White is having a blast prancing around in his clothes. She appears to be singing out loud while enjoying her time cross dressing.

2. Cinderella: To pull off Prince Charming’s formal ball attire, Cinderella let her blonde hair down and tied it back into a low ponytail. Her stance pose is simple, but the princess might be trying to mimic her lover’s wandering eyes she noticed the night they meet. Cinderella’s facial expression is quite cheeky. The only thing incorrect about this illustration is how the artist colored the shirt yellow instead of white. Other than that, this is a great picture.

3. Aurora: In the movie, Aurora sings, “Once Upon A Dream”, out in the forest. During the song number, she dances with an owl friend dressed in Prince Philip’s cape and hat. The owl is assisted by some of the other woodland animals as they pose as the maiden’s dream prince. While the odd pair dance, Aurora snatches the red hat and temporarily playfully places it on her head. Due to this, it’s not surprising Aurora is the second woman to embrace cross-dressing with her partner’s attire. With that said, Aurora appears to she love Philip’s hat more than he does.

4. Belle: Although Belle was never caught on screen adorning herself in men’s attire, Belle does look as though she doesn’t mind dressing up as the Beast. In this case, the princess had to cross-dress in Beast’s princely ballroom suit after he’s turned back into a human. Otherwise, Belle wouldn’t have the luxury of wearing boots. Her stance is quite charming as she holds the enchanted rose in her hand. Perhaps Beast was the only one who could originally touch the cursed gift, thus why he panicked when the curious peasant girl attempted to lay a finger on it.

5. Ariel: Out of all the fan-made artworks, Ariel looks the best in men’s clothing. As a curious girl, Ariel wouldn’t see any problem with trying on Prince Eric’s clothes. Although Eric had many other outfits to choose from, Ariel decided to cross-dress in her husband’s wedding suit. Ariel appears to have found a new love taking on her lover’s persona as she charmingly bows with a flirtatious wink.

6. Jasmine: Considering Jasmine often walks around in baggy pants, dressing as a male might not be too out of her comfort zone. Despite this, Jasmine is one of the only two Disney Princesses, besides Aurora, who wear jewelry often. As such, it’s not surprising Jasmine would insist on wearing her jewels while role-playing as Aladdin. This act of breaking the fourth-wall is clear with Jasmine re-enacting the scene where Aladdin practically waves the Magic Lamp around inside his hat in front of Jafar.

7. Mulan: This is the first woman to embrace masculinity. Due to this, Mulan had to spend the majority of her film disguised as a male. As such, there isn’t much of a difference between Mulan’s father’s armor compared to Shang’s General ware. Despite this, the determined warrior still looks great dressed as her partner if their roles were reversed.

8. Pocahontas: Despite how Pocahontas and Captain John Smith weren’t able to become an actual couple in the film, they still loved each other. Pocahontas trading clothes with John makes sense to their story with the two sharing and accepting their different worlds. To truly understand John’s world, Pocahontas literally puts herself in his shoes. However, this is a bit ironic for Pocahontas to hold a gun after realizing it’s a weapon used to harm nature as it’s against her morals in life.

9. Tiana: When she isn’t working hard, Tiana expresses her fun and jazzy side as an American citizen of New Orleans. Although Naveen isn’t from her country, he is a bouncy lover of jazz music. Because of this, Tiana looks incredibly natural in her prince’s casual street-wear clothes. She’s taking her hat off to the daring performers in the street while holding Prince Naveen’s previous ukulele. Since she isn’t consistently playing the instrument like her partner would be, it’s possible she isn’t familiar with it, but she’s still having fun regardless.

10. Rapunzel: Judging by the expression on Rapunzel’s face, she and Eugene are each other’s alter egos. The two of them enjoy the thrill of adventure. At the same time, the couple also learn they love using frying pans as a weapon. If this isn’t the reasoned source of inspiration for the artist, then Rapunzel is really good at acting out Eugene’s cocky demeanor.

What do you think? Do you like Haruki Godo’s work of the princesses dressed up like their lovers? If not, why? Which image do you like the most? Please share with me!

[ninjastormhawkkat]

Alliance Swap Au: Other Characters

In my first post for this au, I mentioned which ally of Wordgirl is swapped. Some of this involves a swap of powers. It will also involve a swap of personality. Here is the outline for each characters.

Victoria and Violet:

I noticed that Victoria does have some good qualities despite her overall villainous character. (That is definitely her parents fault.) One thing I noted is that Victoria does have somewhat of a dependable character and she is smart enough to realize her situation and mistakes (when her ego is not in the way). In one episode (I forgot the name) Victoria was willing to work together with Wordgirl to get Wordgirl’s powers back from Victor. Even though Victoria’s main motivation was to not be out-bested by her brother, she did prove dependable in helping Wordgirl out. In this au, I increased Victoria’s better qualities. She is a loyal and dependable best friend to Becky. She still acts brash and is somewhat brutally honest, but she will acknowledge her flaws and sincerely apologize when called out for her bad behavior. She is sassy and will throw hands to protect her friends, even when she doesn’t have to. (Tobey and Becky often have to pull her back to keep Victoria from getting hurt or worse.) In this au, Victoria has a single ponytail, regular hair ribbons that are blue in color. She wears a light blue shirt with a grey jacket. Her skirt, shoes, and socks are the same as in canon. Victoria likes Pretty Princess (not to an extant as Becky). In this au her parents are corporate people. (Idk the jobs) They are better than their canon selves, but are a little distant due to how busy their jobs are. They do love their children and want the best for them (not pushing them to be the best always) they just don’t have the time to spend with them as they want to. Victoria’s parents do let Victor and Victoria stay with friends or a good babysitter when they are extremely busy. The Best’s home is not as extravagant as in canon and the rest of the family are dressed more normally and comfortably. (They are still an upper-class family, but look like a normal family to everyone else.) Instead of Art, Becky and Victoria take music class together. (Becky is still terrible.) Victoria does not have her powers. Victoria is sensible in this au, but does try to become a superhero because it looks awesome. “Violet Superhero” happens a little differently, but Victoria does not take the mantle anymore because she realizes she is not cut out for heroics and leave it to the professionals. She and Tobey are still fans of Wordgirl, neither are easily fooled as the rest of the city. (Victoria’s hero outfit is same as canon.) Victoria is basically sassy mostly and does have General Smoochington, but treats him like a loving pet in this au and is definitely a lot more caring toward him. 

For Violet, I decided to twist her good qualities and make them corrupt. This was based on the villain from Wander over Yonder, Dr. Screwball, and how he wanted to make everyone laugh, whether they wanted to or not. Violet in this au wants to live in a world where everything is all sunshine and rainbows and everyone is happy all the time. She thinks that everybody is a winner and it is not fair when someone gets a trophy when another person doesn’t. Violet was raised in an environment by her mother where everything and everybody needs to live in peace and harmony and those who don’t need to be shown the error of their ways. Ex. In the introduction episode for Victoria Best, Violet gets upset when Victoria earns a lot of trophies (not every trophy like in canon). So she takes them to “teach her a lesson” about humility. (In this au, Victoria earned her trophies because of her hard work.) Violet also gets upset when she sees how Wordgirl treats the villains even though she is just doing her job and treats them the same as canon. Violet does get mistaken for Wordgirl and does try to take up the role of Wordgirl just to prove that Wordgirl is doing a terrible job and she should become a hero to be more sympathetic to everyone. (Her hero outfit is “The Framer”). Her powers are similar to Victoria’s. She has pink eyes when she uses them to move and levitate stuff. Violet paints and shows everyone her painting which puts them in a hypnotic trance which keeps them in a peaceful state until the control wears off. (If anyone has watched the Scooby-Doo: Mystery Incorporated episode “When Walks Aphrodite” it is similar to that.) 

Tobey and Scoops:

I sorta did the same thing as I did for Violet and Victoria in this au. There are no interest or ability swaps for these two.

Tobey in this au is just an avid, albeit a little too energetic, inventor. Tobey is head of the media/technical club and is in charge of the media stuff used in school such as electronics used for classrooms and organizing technical special effects for school events. Tobey still dresses the same, but acts like a lovable nerd. Both he and Becky have crushes on each other, but the boy is oblivious as heck that Becky has a crush on him. Becky is not as lovey-dovey as she is in canon with Scoops when expressing herself towards Tobey in this au. Tobey has no idea that Becky is Wordgirl until the ���Invasion of the Bunny Snatchers” episode. Tobey still invents robots for fun on the side. 

For Scoops, you remember how I made his character in my Morally Gray Wordgirl au? Well he is a lot worse in this au. He is still a reporter and a part of the Daily Rag (not head reporter). In this au, Scoops will do anything to get a Scoop, even sometimes aiding villains or helping to cause incidents to just get a great story. (Since Tobey is not a villain in this au, I have Dr. Ape Brains taking over most of Tobey’s canon roles with some shifts to other villains.) He is obsessed with finding out Wordgirl’s identity and causes an incident where he messes with Tobey’s Robots which cause them to go on a rampage at Becky’s home and a few other instances. Scoops does not mean to get people hurt, but he is too focused on “getting the BIG scoop” to notice. He does get punished by his parents. Canon outfit.

Eileen and Rex:

Now I chose to swap these two because they are both similar in personality. The both have childlike curiosity and are equally energetic. They both tend to ignore what others tell them and seem to think they know what they are doing. 

In this au, Eileen is a alien superhero from the planet Gigantian. She can control her size changes and is super strong. She can’t fly but has incredible stamina and dexterity that allows her to leap high in the air. She still has the baby talk (kids on Gigantian talk like a baby until their 13.) This annoys the heck out of Becky. Steven now has to deal with two energetic superheroes. (Sarcastically) Lucky him. Her hero name is Giantess. Her hero outfit is a pink mask. She has a suit style similar to Kid Math’s, but the main colors are pink with purple gloves, boots, and a cape. Her insignia is a mini green person in a strongman stance with black radio wave lines surrounding the person which symbolizes Eileen’s growth and shrinking abilities. Her secret identity outfit is the same as in canon. Her hairstyle as a superhero is in a ponytail while her secret identity has her canon hair and bow.

Rex is a kid villain known has Math Whiz. He treats everything as a research study. Rex does believe every day is his birthday which entitles him to do anything he wants all in the name of research. In the introductory episode for Eileen (changed for this au) Rex takes Squeaky for a lab rat and obliviously ignores Squeaky biting him all the time for release. When he doesn’t get what he wants he uses his powers. Rex is able to project holographic math monsters of various sizes that either protect him, steal for him, or attack anyone that bothers him (on command). These monsters may be holographic but can hurt someone physically. They look like math numbers and equations, have sharp teeth, cartoon eyes and arms, and are mainly white in color with a blue hue that surrounds them. Luckily, the amount of math monsters Rex is able to generate depend on his level of entitlement. If he is greedy for one thing or if it is for small reasons, he can usually generate one monster. Even if he is able to generate multiple math monsters at once, it takes a lot of energy out of him so he can only do it a few times.  

Rose Franklin and Chazz:

Recently, I decided to do a character change swap for Rose Franklin. I originally picked Katy because she was friendly and apologetic with Toby like Rose was with Scoops. Writing this post, I began to think about how Chazz was in the episode where he was being a bad influence for TJ. Since I have Scoops being a villain in this au, why not do the same for Rose. In this au, Rose acts like a cool girl/bad influence which impresses TJ and he develops a silly crush on her (which then ends when Wordgirl gets him back to his senses). She has an outfit and attitude similar to Chazz’s, but adjusted for a girl. Rose in this au is called Roe. 

Chazz in this au is a laid back, but intelligent kid who uses focuses on environmental science. The “News Girl” episode is retitled “Science Boys” for this au. In this au, Chazz accidentally insults Tobey by saying building robots isn’t really a helpful science as it would make people too dependent on robots. (Tobey is immediately upset and ready to throw hands because NO ONE insults his robots. Becky holds him back before Tobey does something stupid). Chazz in this au is called Chad Hudson. He moved to Fair City with his mom who is the new Forewoman (idk what a female foreman is supposed to be called?) for the Power Plant. Wordgirl and Mouse Ace stop the energy monster from destroying the plant and giving Chazz’s mom more work. In this au, Becky takes Chad to natural places along with technical places to get him more comfortable with the city and to ease the issues between him and Tobey. (Tobey does make friends with him in the end.) Tobey during this tour gets upset when Chad creates environment experiments that are beneficial for the civilians and villains. Ex. he creates an organic, environmentally friendly, gel that is great for Chuck’s bread skin and helps the grocery store manager to grow more head hair which he talks to Chad about profiting in his store. Chad figures out Becky’s identity the same way Rose does because this guy is smart. He plans Becky’s exposure as a major science project because her identity and life is a great scientific study. Steven is doing work stuff when Becky calls him to help her fight the bad guys so Steven is not on the tour with them. Steven finds out about how Chad discovered her identity after Becky tells him. Steven, after Tobey, confronts Chad (Tobey’s talk is similar as Scoop’s talk to Rose) and he basically explains the importance of keeping Wordgirl’s identity secret (acting as an adult) and also sort of threatens Chad (Two Brains’ canon character is showing). Luckily Chad, at this point, had already decided to not reveal Wordgirl’s secret and do something else for his project.He is from now on scared of Becky’s dad. It also takes a while for Steven to fully trust him.

Everyone else is pretty much the same for this au. Steven and Becky are neighbors to the Botsfords, TJ is still a fan of Wordgirl with Johnson as his sidekick (I decided to not bother swapping them for the au), and Miss Powers is still an evil alien (I couldn’t find anyone for her or Colonel Gigglecheeks). I don’t have any ship ideas for Victoria or the rest of the characters in this au. Except for Tobecky.  

(Another thing I forgot to mention in my first post about Squeaky is that the mouse sometimes travels with Becky in her pocket. So he does come with her to school sometimes. He usually sticks with Steven in the lab. Squeaky is kidnapped as was Bob in the “Birthday Girl” episode and is put in a girly dress which he despises with every fiber in his being. He also escapes the “Invasion of the Bunny Snatchers” mind control and helps Becky because his body was too small for the button to stick on well.) 

So that is my Alliance Swap au for Wordgirl

[paladin-of-nerd-fandom65]

Little Robin and Momma Bird

 In honor of First Day of Spring 2021 which for comic fans is the birth date of Richard John-Grayson Wayne, Member of the Flying Graysons, Bruce Wayne’s Adopted Son, Barbara Gordon’s classmate, Wally West and Roy Harper’s best friend, Princess Koriand’r’s true love, the first Robin, The Boy Wonder, Leader and founding member of the Teen Titans, Nightwing, Protector of the City of Bludhaven, Renegade, Ex Apprentice of Slade Wilson, Agent 37, Big Brother to Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain, Duke Thomas, and Damian Wayne, in varying times and places Father of Mar’i ‘Nightstar’ and Jacob ‘Jake’ Grayson and above all else and beyond all those titles, son of John Grayson and Mary Elizabeth Lloyd Grayson; here’s what I hope is something short and sweet. 

 Now with long intro out of the way, the following is dedicated to @mothnem @lightdusk96 @hood-ex @thattimdrakeguy @tarisilmarwen @fireflyxrebel-writes @nightglider124 @nyxqueen97 @wisegirlandseaweedbrainforever @arabian-batboy @meara-eldestofthemall @robxstar @bluerene and so many others for being my friends in light of this occasion. Please like, comment and especially reblog for any corrections and constructive criticisms. It’ll be very appreciated. 

  Please Enjoy....  

 The sun gleaming and bright rays shone through the small trailer window, lighting the small bedroom with many bright colors of its own decorated throughout. The beige carpet, still an ever bit of simple yet practical use of being the floor, was littered with small shapes of varying sizes, almost all being made of plastic. In particular, these spread out toys were action figures, representing the recent phenomena of spandex clad and awe inspiring individuals that are the ‘Superman’ from Metropolis and the rest being merely the few robotic and unnatural opponents he faces in protecting the oppressed and those in need. The resident of this small bedroom was for all accounts a fan of Superman, something not too unprecedented given the caped champion’s crusades in correcting the wrongs and dangers Metropolis and the larger world face the best he can ever since his first day to the public. 

   And given these are action figures of Superman, it shall be of no surprise said resident was indeed very young; a small acrobat of the famous Haly’s Circus currently asleep and softly snoring away in this room’s bed, blankets draped and covering almost every part of him, even his face. It’s his 7th birthday as of today, this wonderful first day of Spring. Now if only something or someone can get him awake to enjoy such a day. That’s where a certain Mrs. Mary Grayson enters our picture. 

  As she gently pries open her son’s bedroom door as to not awaken him, clad only in a grey t-shirt and black pants as used for pajamas last night, Mary carefully trudges across the beige carpet towards the bed being occupied by said son. Sure, both her and him have slept in until nearly 9:30 am as of now since their family group, the Flying Graysons, have a day off from practice for today, but frankly had Dick remembered that today’s his birthday from earlier, he would been by now sneaking into his parents’ neighboring room, awaking them both his father John and her up about said day, probably  the best he can think of for a gentle reminder. But due to recent influx of performances across the West Coast, Dick lost count so now it was Mary’s turn to gently remind him and in the best way she knows how. 

  As Mary’s bare feet carefully skirt around the action figures spread across the floor, even picking some up along the way (maybe reminding Dick to next time pick up his toys before bed will come in later tonight), she eventually reaches her son’s twin sized bed and the red, green and yellow pattern blanket that draped over the little guy overnight. In her right hand was a blue fine point marker pen with washable ink while her left gently leans to one end of the blanket where a small tuff of black hair sticks out. Gently caressing her left hand the black mass, Mary can hear a content giggle coming from under the blanket, no doubt her son feeling the familiar, loving motion John and her regularly do as parents can. On normal moments this happens, Dick would playfully push the hand ruffling his black hair away. This time, he just simply lightly giggles in his sleep. Mary was sort of banking the hair ruffling being enough to awaken her son to this bright and beautiful first day of Spring. As soon as her hand though stops with the affectionate ruffling and once more snores are heard coming from Dick, her lips turn into a soft yet mischievous smile; it was time for Plan B. Sure Enough, when looking over to the other end of the blanket and seeing her son’s own two feet, so far socked but with her there not for too long. That marker in her hand has its cap screw off. 

  On some occasions when she was basically passed out from a long night on the trapeze, Mary wold wake to find the soles of her feet with scribbles and doodles all across, most of them featuring the Flying Graysons logo prominently. She almost immediately knew the culprit behind such drawing but often times just leaves it be and even walks on her two feet with drawing and all since the marker ink easily comes off so it was overall no big deal. Besides, her son was just having some harmless fun so why would she dare try ruining that; sure she was strict on some parts of his behavior but this ain’t one of the them. Now though, as she lightly tugs the two socks off her sleeping son as to not awake him, revealing two velvet soles and the ten toes and with her marker in hand, it was time for payback if you may. 

  Starting with lightly drawing smiley faces on his big toes, Dick’s reaction was almost immediate as a slightly louder giggle comes from the blankets and his toes clench. Mary briefly backs off the marker until the toes relaxing and using her free hand, she lightly grabs unto the big ones, leaving his feet still. With that, she can proceed with the rest as sure enough, various other faces across his other toes are drawn along with flowers and even an elephant on the arch of his right foot. As for that last one, the giggling had reached its loudest and looking upward, Mary couldn’t help but smile at the results. Plan B was a success, Dick was awake and laughing his head off due to the scribbling.

   “Momma!” he yells between hearty giggles, “That tickles!” 

   Mary grins a bit, “Oh really?” 

  She continues with that elephant on Dick’s right foot, now holding him still with arm entrapping his ankles tightly, making sure he can’t pull his feet back from that blue marker as it continued its path. Though Mary notes that even then, Dick wouldn’t want to. He had not once told her to stop, indicating that he was enjoying this instead. Frankly, after a long time doing this to her, she couldn’t blame him. All Dick does on his part is lay his head on the pillows, the blankets off of him, allowing Mary to see him clad in a similar style of PJs to hers only with the coloring being a blue t shirt and grey sweat pants instead. To the left of him was his precious stuffed elephant Peanut; ever since being first given that on his 4th birthday, he keeps it close to him whenever going to bed. All this time afterwards, Mary still hasn’t been able in getting her son a second stuffed toy like Peanut much to her disappointment but hey that’s a thought for another time, she has one more spot to draw before she can move on for the rest of the day, the arch on Dick’s left foot.

  At first, Mary thought of drawing the Flying Graysons logo for the finishing touch but instead opts for a more casually yet fitting wording. With that in mind, her blue marker makes contact with the velvet of her son’s arch and starts its ink dripped path. By now, the 7 year old was still in full hysterics over his Momma’s drawings but he will admit, at least it was better waking up from his trapeze swinging dreams like this rather than the sun’s rays shining on him as it usually happens. Finally though, he feels the marker stop and opening his ocean blue eyes, sees his mother put the cap back on. Putting the marker away in her pocket, Mary places a soft kiss on her son’s forehead while giving him another hair ruffle. This time, now fully awake, Dick gently pushes her hand away. 

  His blue eyes meet his mother’s own blue eyes and a wide smile stretches on his face. 

  “Thanks Momma” he chirps happily in Romani Chib. 

  Another motherly kiss, this time his cheek, “You’re welcome, Just wanted to make sure you didn’t forget about your special day today, My Little Robin” 

  As Mary stands and makes her way back to the door, Dick stretches his arms, letting out a yawn from his mouth doing so. 

  “Breakfast will be ready in 5 minutes” Mary states with a warm smile on her face.

  “Cereal, Momma?”

  “Any type you like that we have of course” 

  “I’ll be there soon” Dick says, a wide grin on his face. 

 Mary has a humming giggle of her own before making her own to the kitchen to no doubt prepare her son and her’s bowls for the day. Though of course, they were just getting started. 

  Dick swings his feet to step off his bed and begin trudging to his breakfast, he briefly wonders on what his mother drew on him before putting the marker away. As such, flexing his leg to where he can see the soles and toes of his two feet, Dick smiles of all nice stuff Momma left. Indeed, there were flowers on the balls of his arches, goofy faces on each of his ten toes, what looks like a circus ball on his right heel, a trapeze bar on his left heel, a short yet cute elephant on right foot’s arch and at least the words on his left arch. 

‘Happy 7th B-Day Little Robin, Love Momma’ 

  Now that was love from a mother alright. Dick certainly will never forget this. Now to get the table without stepping on his toys on the floor. 

[thinking1bee]

Rainbow Part 2

Requested by Anonymous

Pairings: Lena Luthor x Reader

Tags: Fluff, Humor, Just Cuteness All Around 

Working for Lena was great, amazing in fact! Though you admired Lena for her work ethic and genuine friendly attitude, you always wondered how someone as kind as she, could result from a family so vile. It didn’t make sense to you. But you spent less time wondering about her family’s legacy, and more about her as a person. Lena was so strong, her resilience to the hate people gave her because of who she is, made your heart flutter in a way you haven’t felt before. You never had the pleasure to interact with her before she found you with the little boy. You’d only heard rumors and whispers of how she acted. But now that you work for her, you see, now, that others opinions don't do her justice. Lena Luthor deserved so much more.

After several weeks of working for her, she asked you to commission a mural in Supergirl’s honor. For what you could see, Lena was in the process of buying abandoned and foreclosed properties to refurbish them and offer them for philanthropy. A part of that project was to create a mural, just a way to say thank you to Supergirl for everything that she’s done for National City. To have a resident superhero was great. Seeing her insignia gave people hope. ‘Stronger Together’ is what it meant, so that’s the emphasis you were going to put into the painting. When Lena gave you creative freedom, you already had the painting in mind, it taking shape with a will of its own. You were going to paint Supergirl mid flight, with one arm outstretched and one leg bent, her red cape fluttering in the wind. It was already detailed enough but you were going to put special prominence on her insignia, her facial features, and draw ‘stronger together’ in big red lettering with a gold outline below her regal form.

The next day, you got to work, already dressed in your painting flannel and jeans. Your supplies surrounded you, a mess to some people, but to you, it was your own personal paradise. The smell of acrylic was soothing to you, and every stroke of your brush was artistic therapy. By the time Lena came over to check on you, you already had a basic outline done using black paint and a thinner brush. This stage was always the most depressing to you because, right now, it didn’t look like much, but it was a wall of opportunity, a blank slate, a chance to turn something mundane into something truly spectacular.

“How’s it going?” Lena asked you as she got closer and you couldn’t help your smile. She was truly amazing, and you couldn’t say it enough.

You saw that she had burgers for you, and you smiled, sticking your brush into your hair so you wouldn’t lose it.

“I promise it’ll be awesome! I’ll have more for you by then end of the day.”

Lena smiled sweetly at you, admiring your enthusiasm. *** Lena couldn’t get you out of her mind. Every waking moment of her life was filled with thoughts of you. How were you doing? Were you okay…? Were you single?

She was still trying to play it cool and not seem utterly obsessed. That would be so creepy. She just wanted to spend more time with you. The idea that maybe you hadn’t eaten in a while flitted across her brain and she latched on to it, using any excuse to see you. So, when Lena saw you, with your food in tow, her heart flipped in her chest.

Watching the sunshine on you and highlight your hair was breathtaking. She watched you work, nimble and skilled fingers moving the brush with such grace that a ballerina would be jealous of. This was her favorite part of her day: watching you work. The air of serenity that surrounded you like an aura was beautiful. You were at your most tranquil when you painted. Lena could see the artwork come alive through your eyes and it was then that she realized that she was in love with you.

Lena squared her shoulders and frowned. It was one thing to experience love at first sight, but to be in love? That was ridiculous. Luthors can’t love. They don’t have it in their DNA to experience such a feeling. The closest she could get to love was quite possibly obsession and that was a hard pass for her. The only thing she was completely committed to was her work. So, she shook off her confusing feelings, stored them in little boxes, and approached you.

“How’s it going?”                                                   *** Lena convinced you to take a break. Well it didn’t take much convincing. You truly liked Lena. She was a strong and admirable person that beat all odds stacked against her and tried to make a name for herself outside of the Luthor legacy. You also noticed several other things about her. Her skin was flawless except a lone freckle that adorned her neck. When she would get frustrated, she would always put her hair in a ponytail…and when she was with you, she blushed a lot. As you two were eating, you noticed how she would react when you compliment her work or tell her that she’s doing a great job. You also knew that something inside you was falling for this regal woman. She was utterly beautiful, gorgeous. Something about her perseverance was intriguing and what reeled you in was her personality. Working for her was the best decision you’ve ever made. She saved you in more ways than one.

Now that you knew that there was something between you, a spark of sorts, you began to devise a way to fan it into a flame.

“Ms. Luthor, would you like to help me paint?” you offered to her. Lena stuttered and then laughed.

“Oh no I don’t wish to be in the way,” she said with a mouthful of burger. “Besides I’m not wearing anything to paint in.”

That much was very true. She was dressed in formal wear with a blouse, a skirt, and her signature high heels. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you’re shrugging out of your flannel and offering it to her. Lena’s eyes grew big, her green orbs looking at your shirt and then at you in a tank top.

“I insist,” you encouraged.

Thirty minutes later, you had Lena wheezing from laughter. She insisted that she do the easier tasks like painting the bigger shapes while you take care of the detailed work. You were currently telling her this corny joke that you learned from social media and the next thing you knew, her face was as red as a lobster and she was clutching her stomach.

“Y/n, that was awful!”

You giggled and bowed for the job well done before turning back to your work. It didn’t take long for Lena to abandon her heels. She opted to work barefoot instead, her feet pale in comparison to the sidewalk. For several minutes, you worked in a comfortable silence until Lena called your name.

“Y/n?”

You turned just in time to see her flick some paint in your direction. The red droplets splattered into you neck and chest thickly and you couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped you. Lena laughed at your reaction, her hand coming up to hide her own sheepish smile. You were quick to recover, and you cracked your knuckles.

“Oh Luthor, it is on!”

You knew you had to be careful of her skirt, so you dipped your hand in blue paint and flicked your fingers towards her. Lena laughed boisterously as she used your flannel to shield herself. She ran away, ducking and weaving so she could avoid you, but that didn’t stop you from gently tackling her. You twisted your body so that she would land on top of you and you both laughed on the way down. When you finally calmed down, you’re aware that Lena isn’t laughing anymore. You open your eyes to see her staring into yours, her eyes wide with an emotion you couldn’t read, but you could see her vulnerability. Lena swallowed repeatedly, her eyes flitting from yours to you lips and back again. You smiled, your hand rubbing her back through her borrowed flannel.

“Lena?” you asked, and you swear you could feel her heart rate increase.

“Yes?” she whispered.

“I hope I haven’t read this evening wrong,” you began, your own nervousness manifesting itself as a shaky voice.

“But I’ve thoroughly enjoyed spending this time with you. And I hope-”

You paused, your throat suddenly dry. Lena placed her hands on either side of you head and you became increasingly aware of the fact that she was straddling you, her body heat seeping past your own layers of clothing to ignite your skin on fire.

“Yes, Y/n?” she asked, prompting you to continue.

“May I take you out on a date?”

“Yes!” Lena said quickly before she cleared her throat and chuckled in embarrassment.

“Yes,” she said again, attempting to be calm. “I would like that very much.”

You’re all smiles as you stood up and helped Lena to do the same.

“I know I pale financially in comparison to you-” you began, but Lena didn’t let you finish.

“I don’t care about that. Besides, money isn’t what made me fall in love with you,” she said before she slapped her hand over her mouth.

You’re speechless, your mind a literal Windows blue screen before you force it to reboot and form words.

“You love me?”

Now that the cat was out of the bag, there was no way Lena could go back. It was now or never. She knew that she put herself in this situation, this moment of vulnerability. Even now, she could feel herself build her walls and close herself from being exposed. It took everything in Lena to not do that, to not shut you out. Not everyone was Lillian or Lex, and everyday was a battle to not treat people the same way as they’ve treated her.

Lena couldn’t speak quite yet. All she could do was nod her head and not pass out from nervousness. Your heart soared and you held her hands.

“Lena,” was all you could say before you engulfed her in a hug. Lena gasped, her body freezing in shock before she hugged you back. And that’s the way you stayed for several minutes, locked in an embrace and feeling like you couldn’t get closer to the woman you loved no matter how hard you tried. Even with her in your arms, it wasn’t close enough. Holding her was as lovely as you thought it would be. Lena was not weak by any means. You could feel muscle definition beneath the clothes but still holding her, was like holding on to something so precious, that you couldn’t help but be gentle with her. Even you could tell that she was putting a lot into this, forcing herself to be vulnerable with you. You wouldn’t take it for granted.

It’s several more minutes before you’re able to release your hug, just enough to look into her eyes.

“Ms. Luthor, it’s a date then,” you said before kissing her sweetly on her cheek. You were rewarded with Lena’s vibrant red blush, her shaky fingers ghosting where your lips were. Maybe Luthors couldn’t love, but this Luthor was already breaking the mold just for you.

[fabcreature]

i love gender euphoria and for no other reason than that, i'm gonna list some things that give me gender euphoria:

-my pirate shirt

-capes and cloaks

-edgy modern rock

-my new haircut

-wearing converse with an otherwise fancy/formal outfit

-opening things with a knife instead of scissors

-grinning at myself in the mirror, but like, in an evil way

-throwing a peace sign and sticking my tongue out when absolutely no one is looking

-dramatically holding my lace hand fan

-making jokes about how utterly fuckable i am despite having a very complicated relationship with sexuality

[noladyme]

xo - Red (A Clark Kent/Superman oneshot)

Just a really funny; warm; kind; built like an Olympic athlete, with perfect lips friend? Tag-list: @wolf-lover-bookdragon @wonderlandfandomkingdom​

TW: Fluff. So much fluff. Explosions.

Fifth date. Things were supposed to happen, right? I mean, at least a kiss; other than a peck on the cheek. But he was a friggin’ gentleman; which I couldn’t help but be a little annoyed about; as it made it very difficult to get to the fun part of our relationship. Not that we didn’t have fun, mind you. Clark had an uncanny way of turning my frown upside down.

Ever since I’d run in to him – literally – at that coffeeshop a few months ago. I had left home early, so I wouldn’t be late for my first day at my new job, at the elementary school. I’d been so nervous about it; I hadn’t been able to fall asleep until 3 am; and was now battling exhaustion, nerves, and the fact that my new red shoes were really uncomfortable – all at the same time. I’d ordered a large black coffee; extra strong; and was on my way out the door – the sun in my eyes – when I tripped on the steps; my drink splashing out of the cup.

Suddenly; two strong hands were grabbing my shoulders; and pulling me up to stand. “Are you ok?”, a warm voice said. I looked up, and found two friendly blue eyes looking me over. “Yes, thank you”, I smiled; before noticing the large brown stain on the man’s white shirt. “Oh, crap. I am so sorry!”. He looked down himself; and smiled. “It’s fine. White isn’t my color anyway”. I laughed. “Still, I’m so sorry. Didn’t I burn you?”. The coffee had been scolding; I knew. He smirked. “I’m thick skinned”, he insisted.

He was still holding on to me; and I felt a warmth spreading in my stomach; making me short of breath. “Miss?”. His eyes suddenly looked worried. “Are you sure you’re ok?”. I smiled. “Yes, absolutely. It’s just been… a morning”. He chuckled. “Can I buy you a new cup of coffee?” I simultaneously nodded and shook my head. “Yes… no… I mean, I should buy you one; as an apology”.

He removed his hands from my shoulders; leaving me to stand on my own. “No need for an apology”, he smiled. “But I’ll take the coffee”.

We’d spent 10 minutes sipping at our hot drinks – for which he’d insisted to pay – and talking about what we did for work, and what our favorite movies were; having noticed an advertisement for some superhero movie on a passing bus. Apparently Clark wasn’t a fan of superheroes; but found it hilarious that I loved The Wizard of Oz – being from Kansas himself. Then; Clark had asked for my number, and I’d given it to him. He shook my hand, and we’d said goodbye.

The next afternoon; he’d called me, and we’d gone to see a movie – one about aliens instead of superheroes. He’d still been frowning all the way through it. “It was just really… unrealistic”, he said afterwards over a beer at a local bar near my apartment. He walked me home, declining my offer to come up for coffee; and had given me a short hug, before saying goodbye.

The next time has been a trip to an apple picking farm. “You can take the boy out of Kansas…”, I’d chuckled, as he’d carried a bushel of Granny Smith’s back to his car. “I just really like pie”, he’d smiled. He’d driven me home; and on the way there, told me about his moms pies; and how it was his favorite thing in the world – next to sweet potato fries. When he dropped me off; he leaned in, and kissed my cheek. “Goodnight”, he’d whispered; and I’d bit my lip – and hoped for more. More didn’t happen.

Then there was the quick cup of coffee on both our lunchbreaks; where I’d told him about how I’d sprained my ankle on roller-skates – 3 times in the same amount of years. He’d snorted a laugh. “Well you are kind of clumsy”, he’d said, and removed a strand of hair from my face; putting it behind my ear – before running off for a sudden work emergency.

And lastly; the roller-skating rink. Because I insisted. And he said he couldn’t say no to me. That night, he’d held my hand as we went about the floor; and grabbed my waist several times, as I was about to fall. “Careful, slick”, he’d said. “Oh, is that my nickname now?”, I’d chuckled. “No. I think I’ll call you Red. From those godawful shoes you were wearing when I met you”. It was another kiss on the cheek; and a hug that lingered, and made my knees weak. And then just… goodnight.

So yes. I was just about desperate to kiss the man. He was gorgeous; which at times had made me feel insufficient and a bit self-conscious – but then there was the way he looked at me. His eyes would light up as I talked; as if I was the most fascinating person he’d ever met. Even when our conversation was about cereal, or how one of the kids at my school had put bead up his nose. It was like his eyes drew me in; and then – as my breath would hitch, and I’d part my lips – he’d pull back as if nothing had happened.

I couldn’t help but ask myself; does he just want to be my friend? My really funny; warm; kind; built like an Olympic athlete, with perfect lips friend? I’d decided that I needed clarity on where we were going with our relationship – even if that thought did make me feel like I was living in a sad rom-com, where everyone was always talking about their feelings.

Tonight, it was dinner. Nothing fancy, just a steakhouse I’d suggested. If Clark turned out to just be in it for the apple picking and coffee; then at least I could drown my sorrows in a medium rare steak, with enough bearnaise-sauce to drown a small elephant.

—

Putting on my favorite jeans, black pumps, and a snug top; I waited for the call to let me know Clark was by the door on the street. He’d never been inside my apartment; and didn’t seem very interested in it either. This isn’t real, I told myself to guard my feelings against the inevitable rejection I’d have to face that evening. We’ll eat, laugh; and he’ll walk me home – and then tell me that he’s got a wife and three kids in Smallville, waiting for him to come home for game-night.

A text message made my phone light up. Hey Red. I’m late. So sorry. Be there as soon as possible. – C

Great. That gave me even more time to just hang out… and be anxious.

No worries, Kansas. See you. xo – R Send… Crap, why did I write xo? What am I; a teenager?

I sat down on my couch. Deciding I needed to pass the time doing something other than stare at the wall; I turned on the television. Landing on the news; I dropped the remote.

In Stockholm, Sweden, the building of a new sky-scraper in an old neighborhood; had made a nearby building begin to crack in the foundation. The old residential was quickly giving in; and families were being evacuated from their homes. There were firetrucks spraying water at the structure, to avoid flames from any electrical fires.

Though it was a terrible situation for those families; I was confused as to why one building falling apart half way around the world, was a breaking news story here. That was until I saw a figure at the bottom of the screen; seemingly supporting the weight of the building on his shoulders. Oh, right! That guy! The Superdude…, I chuckled to myself; and went to see if Clark had texted me back yet.

Nothing. It was probably the xo-thing. He didn’t know how to reply to that.

The news story ended when cameras filmed Superman handing a shaking and wet puppy to a little girl; who kissed his cheek in thanks. I always found it kind of neat, that the flying caped man managed to know where every camera was; so that anyone watching would find it difficult to make out his features. From what I could see; he was sort of cute. If Clark doesn’t work out; I could always throw myself of a building; and have that guy catch me. It must be lonely in that fortress of solitude; maybe he’d like some company.

A text. Outside in 5. Can’t wait to see you. xo – C

xo. He’d written xo. Right. Big girl pants on, and go talk to him.

—

Outside the door of my building stood Clark; a smile the size of the sun plastered across his face. My heart jumped. He opened his arms; and took me in for a hug.

“Hi, Red”, he breathed. “I’m so sorry I’m late. It was a work emergency”. “It’s fine”, I said and looked up at him; and opened my mouth to say something more – until I noticed something strange.

“Clark?”, I said. He was still holding on to me. “Yeah?”. “This is going to sound weird, but… why do you smell like wet dog?”.

He pulled back. “Yeah… I was doing a story at an animal shelter”, he said. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Let’s go!”, he said, and took my hand.

It was a beautiful night; so we decided to skip the cab, and walk the few miles to the restaurant. We walked down the street, hand in hand. It wasn’t the first time we’d held hands; but then it was because he was trying to keep me from falling. This was different. It wasn’t strange; but warm… familiar. I swallowed hard. “I want to talk to you about something, Kansas”, I said. He looked down. “You don’t want to do that at the restaurant?”, he said with a strained voice. “No, I think I need to do it now”, I answered. He nodded. “Ok. Do you want to sit down?”, he asked; and gestured at a bench on a playground we were passing.

Once seated; I let go of Clarks hand. “What’s up, Red?”, he asked earnestly. “You seem… tense”. He laughed nervously. I smiled. “I like you, Clark. A lot”, I said. “I like you too. A lot”, he smiled. I matched his nervous laughter. “It’s just… lately, I’ve been thinking. About us… and what we are”. He looked down. “Yeah, I figured we’d get to this at some point”. I nodded. “We have fun”, I said. “Like friends. But I don’t know if we both feel like this is more than that. Friendship, I mean”. He sighed. “Right. No, I get it”, he said. “You’re new in the city, and shouldn’t be settling down with anyone serious”.

I looked at him confusedly. “I’m not sure I follow”, I smiled. He took my hand. “You’re an amazing woman, Red”, he said “And I’ve enjoyed spending time with you. But maybe you’re right, and this is a good time to call it quits. If that’s what you want”. My heart fell into my stomach. “Is that what you want?”, I asked timidly. “I want you to be happy”, he said, smiling sadly. “With or without me in your life. I’d just hoped I’d have a few more dates before you came to your senses about me”.

I frowned. “Clark… you need to be clear with me here”, I said. “Are you breaking it off with me?”. He looked at me with a frown on his face. “I thought you were breaking up with me…”, he said. “You suggested that restaurant; and I thought you wanted to be in public when you did it”. I laughed. “No. I just… really like steak”, I smiled.

He exhaled with relief. “Good. Because I was lying. I really don’t want you to be happy without me…”, he said. “I mean… crap… I want you to be happy; I’d just really like to be a part of it. If you’ll have me”. I bit my lip and nodded. “I’d like that”, I said. “I thought you saw me as a friend because… you haven’t…”. I couldn’t finish the sentence. He took my hand, and tried to meet my gaze. “What? Tell me”, he said. I took a deep breath. “You haven’t kissed me”, I said; meeting his eyes for a second; before looking down in embarrassment.

He put his hand under my chin, and raised it to finally meet my eyes for real. “Red, I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment you spilled scorching hot coffee on my least favorite shirt”, he smiled. “I was just waiting for the right time, and…”. He exhaled and took my other hand; playing with my fingers.

“My life is… complicated. The work I do; sometimes it’s dangerous”, he said. I raised an eyebrow at him. “You write fluff pieces for The Daily Planet”, I chuckled. “That too…”, he muttered and looked down.

I smiled; wanting to ease the tension. “You know, I was watching a news story while I was waiting for you”, I said. He looked up at me with questioning eyes. “Yeah?”. I chuckled. “It was about that Superman guy. He was helping some people; in Sweden I think”, I said. “I was telling myself; that if you didn’t want to see me anymore; I could always just… throw myself of a building, and he’d rescue me. Then I could hook up with him”. He laughed nervously. “What? Like a rebound?”. “More like a… third choice. If you didn’t work out”. He narrowed his eyes at me. “Only third?”, he said. I scoffed. “Have you seen Aquaman? I mean, come on!”, I grinned.

His lips tightened, and he stifled a laughter. “So… if Superman is third… and… Aquaman…”, he raised an eyebrow at me, “… is second. What does that make me?”. I sighed. “The guy I’ve been waiting months to kiss”.

He looked deep into my eyes; and my breath hitched. He put his hand on my cheek; and he leaned in close to me, stroking my temple with his thumb I brushed my nose against his; and closed my eyes, letting my lips part.

Suddenly; he pulled back. “Clark?”, I asked. His eyes were scanning the area; before they met mine again – alarmed. “Red, go home.” “What’s wrong?”, I said. “Did I say something?”.

He stood up and began backing away; his eyes again searching his surroundings. “Listen, go straight home. Don’t stop for anything. I’ll… I’ll call you when I can”. He ran around a corner, and was gone. I heard a strange woosh, and a stray cat ran from the alley he’d gone in to.

I felt suddenly cold. This was the weirdest date I’d ever had; and it hadn’t even really started. Then there was the fact that the guy I was falling head over heels for, finally said he care about me too – and then just… left. That’s it, I laughed to myself. I’m finding a really high building to jump off.

I began walking home. Slowly. I didn’t want Clark to have the pleasure of getting me to do what he wanted me to. Jerk. Not a jerk. Crap; I really like him. More than like. This is real.

I heard a crash, and then a screech; like metal being torn apart. I felt a warm gust of wind, forceful enough to make me stumble. I looked up. Was that seriously a bus flying through the air?

Another crash; this one even closer. I fell to the ground; and was scrambling to get up, when I saw a minivan sliding on its roof towards me. I got on my feet, and bean running out of the way; when something red and blue slammed into the minivan; making it alter its course. Was that?…

I ran towards my block. Red, go home. I’m going; but where are you Clark? Are you ok?

I kept running; fishing my phone out of my pocket, and dialing Clarks number. It kept ringing, but went to voicemail. Hey. This is Clark Kent. Leave me a message and I’ll get back to you… beep. Come on, Clark. I need to know you’re ok!

I redialed. Suddenly I heard a phone ringing near me. I looked into a bush; and saw… Clarks jacket? His phone was ringing in his pocket. 2 missed calls from Red – heart emoji. Damn it, Kansas. If I wasn’t so pissed at you; I might think this was really sweet. Where are you?

Screeching… a car landed on the ground 10 feet from me; the force of it throwing me to the ground again. I got up slowly; rattled from the shock.

I began running again; getting closer to my block.

Suddenly; a tank truck was blocking my path; crashing into a bus-shed. My heart was in my throat, and my chest hurt from having run so fast. I tried turning around, but a bus had crashed into an RV, blocking my path in both directions. I was trapped.

I looked up. The sky was covered in smoke from the many burning vehicles around me. The sound of a large crash made me look towards the truck. Something made the vehicle fall onto its side, and slide towards me with such speed that the shock of it made me fall.

I looked back – there was nowhere to run. In three seconds, I would be smashed between the truck and the bus.

Three… Oh God…

Two… Clark, where are you?

One.

A gush of wind; and I flew in to the air. No… I didn’t fly; I was lifted. My feet were dangling in the air; and one of my shoes fell of, landing on the ground hundreds of feet below me. Someone was holding on to me; his strong arms around my waist; and my chest pressed to his – which was adorned with a red S on a yellow background. What?

I let out a terrified whimper. “It’s ok. I’ve got you”, a warm voice said. I looked up into my saviors face. “Clark?”, I gasped. “Hi”, he said with a crooked smile. I opened my mouth to say something. “Don’t speak…”, he said. “The air is kind of thin up here”.

I looked down; and realizing how far up in the air we were, I panicked. I wrapped my arms around his neck and let out a weak squeal. “It’s ok, Red”, he chuckled. “I won’t let you fall”.

He set me down on the top of a building a few miles from the explosions. Once on stable ground, he held on to me for a second; making sure my legs would carry me. I stepped backwards, holding my hand up in front of me. “Y-you…”, I stuttered. He looked at me apologetically. “I know. I should have told you. It’s just… complicated”. He tried to smile.

I stumbled; and fell to my bottom. He took a tentative step forward. “I know. I get it. You’re scared”, he said. I shook my head. “No… it’s… you!”, I said.

He reached his hand out to me. “Please, let me help you up”. I gave him my hand; and he gently raised me to my feet. “Are you ok?”, he smiled. I simultaneously shook my head and nodded. “Yes?”. It was almost a question. He sniggered.

Suddenly I began laughing – the ridiculousness of the situation too comical. “I was supposed to fall off a building; not land on it”, I chuckled. He began laughing with me. “Yeah, I must have gotten those two mixed up”, he said. “It’s like I’ve said; I can’t say no to you”.

I sighed, and gently laid a hand on the S on his chest. “So… what now?”, I asked. He smiled. “I really want to continue what we started on that bench”. I chuckled and bit my lip. “Ok”.

He slid his arms around me – his tall and broad frame almost enveloping me – and I melted into his arms. His face came close to mine; and the last thing I saw before I closed my eyes; where his striking blue ones, boring deep into me.

He tensed up; and when I opened my eyes again, he was frowning, and turning his head, as if listening.

“I’m so sorry, Red; but I have to finish this”, he said. Another gush of wind; and he was gone. “Seriously?!”, I yelled after him.

—

I made my way down the skyscraper Clark had left me on; where I was met by the sirens of police cars, and people pointing at the sky. I was out of danger – I knew – but no less rattled. I was wearing a pump on one foot, and limping barefoot on the other; until I simply gave up; and took off the shoe – throwing it in a trashcan.

I walked all the way home; confused and dizzy. On my block, people were standing in the streets, murmuring to each other; and looking at the fires in the distance. It was as if there was line drawn through the city. On one side; havoc, and crashed cars – on the other, where I was… nothing. It was as if nothing had been touched.

One of my neighbors tried to stop me in the doorway; noticing the shell-shocked look on my face, and my bare feet. “Were you in that? Are you ok”, he asked. I shook my head. “I’m fine. It’s nothing”, I smiled.

I stumbled into my apartment; threw my jacket on the floor, and grabbed a beer from the fridge – plopping down on the couch.

Well… that was something…

Without anything else to do, I took a large swig of my beer; and turned on the television.

“… explosions in downtown Metropolis this evening; as terrorists connected to the incarcerated Lex Luthor, placed explosives on multiple vehicles, throughout the city…”

Footage of explosions, and scenes of police cars and firetrucks racing down the streets.

“… no casualties, due to the quick intervention of the group calling themselves The Justice League…”

A man who looked like Robocop, pointed at the camera, and the screen blurred. There was a flash of red; and just after it, footage of a group of men captured by a shiny lasso, held by a woman dressed like a Greek goddess. A burning building was drowned in water; and a smirking longhaired man – still hot… – was yelling booyah’s at it.

“… headed by the Batman; and Metropolis’ own Superman…”

I saw the Gotham Knight shaking hands with…

It was Clark. It was always him.

There was a knock at my door. When I opened it Clark stood outside. Not red and blue Superman – just my Clark; dressed in jeans; a plaid flannel; and wearing his glasses.

“Hi”, he said. “Hi”, I answered. “I brought you something”. He pulled out my black pump; the one I had dropped from the air. I chuckled. “Great, now I just need the other one”. He pulled out the other one as well. “It might smell a little. It was laying in a trashcan”. I took the shoes from his hands, and half smiled at him. “I have something of yours as well”, I said, and gave him back his phone, from my jacket on the floor. “Thanks”, he said. “The suit doesn’t really have pockets”.

He clenched his jaw. “Can I come in?”, he asked. I stepped aside, and he walked into my combined kitchen/living room. “You have a nice place”, he smiled. “Thanks”, I said quietly; as I closed the door behind him. His large frame seemed to fill the entire space. “Do you want a beer?”, I asked. He looked at me warmly. “Yeah, sure”. I handed him a cold one. “You can sit down”, I said. “Unless… you pulled a muscle flying me through the sky”.

He chuckled at me, and sat down on my couch. “No, I’m fine”, he smiled. I raised a brow; and sat down on the couch with him – leaving some space between us. “Right; you can lift buildings and stuff like that”, I muttered.

He exhaled, and took a swig of his beer. “Yeah… about that”, he began. “I was going to tell you”. “Why?”, I muttered. “It seems like something pretty big. I get why you’d want to keep it private. Have a… secret identity”.

He frowned. “I wanted to tell you, because I care about you. And I want you to be a part of my life… all of it”. I met his eyes. “Really”. I bit my lip. “You… care”, I said. He reached for my hand; and I let him take it. Our fingers linked into each other. “You’re funny; smart; passionate”, he said. “And you’re beautiful”.

I scrunched up my face in embarrassment. “Ok, now I’m uncomfortable”. “Why?, he said, and stroked my cheek; moving closer to me on the couch. I sighed. “Because you’re… you. The Superdude. You can see every flaw…”. “There isn’t a flaw on your body”, he smiled. I scoffed at him. “I’m serious! Every little thing… the wrinkle between your eyebrows when you’re concentrating… how your one hand is a little bit smaller than the other… that beauty-mark on your back…”. “How did you know about that?”, I interrupted. He smiled embarrassedly. “That loose fitting top you wore on our last date. The dark blue one”, he muttered. “I love all of it”. I half-smiled. “There’s actually two of them… the beauty-marks”, I said. “I didn’t want you to think I was creepy for looking”, he smirked.

“You love it?”, I mumbled. He swallowed. “Yeah, Red”, he said. “I mean… I’ve fallen hard for you”. I giggled nervously. “So, this is real…”, I muttered. “I want it to be”, he smiled. “Do you?”. I nodded, and looked at him through my lashes. “Yeah, I do”, I said.

He let out a relieved sigh, and chuckled “Good… Are you sure?”, he smirked. “I could introduce you to Arthur”. I frowned. “Arthur?”, I sneered. “In that case, never mind!”.

We laughed together; before Clarks face became apprehensive. “And…”, he couldn’t form the words. “Your other side?”, I said. He shook his head. “It’s not my other side. It’s me. It’s who I am”.

I squeezed his hand gently, and placed it on my knee. “I fell for you, without knowing everything you were”, I said. “What I know now… just makes you… better”. His eyes lit up. “Really?”, he half-whispered. “Yeah”, I smirked. “Besides; I kind of like how the suit makes your butt look”.

He raised his brows at me and laughed – putting his free hand to my cheek, and stroking my temple. “Oh!”, he said. “Well… yours isn’t half bad either”. I frowned. “Did you x-ray my pants?”, I asked; narrowing my eyes at him. He tightened his lips. “Not yet… do you want me to? I mean… I’m up for it”, he smiled, and moved his other hand up my thigh.

I chuckled; and put my hand on his cheek; pulling him closer. “Let’s do the kissing part first – we can get to what’s in my pants later”, I smirked. “Unless, of course, you have another superhero emergency you need to tend to".

He closed his eyes and listened; then opened them again. “Nah, we’re good”, he smiled; and his lips met mine.

He tasted like apple pie and sunshine.

—

[theonlygamergost]

As long as I’m with you - Dream SMP

This fanfic came up in my head a while ago, finished it recently and I’m pretty happy with it, the inspiration is how much I love the Techno/ Tommy brothers/friends dynamic.

This fan fiction was corrected by the lovely @im-default

~~~~~~~~~~

Techno has never been good with human interactions, so when pushing Tommy’s buttons too far, he decides that seeing the boy like that was never gonna happen again under his supervision... but is he willing to broke the alliance with Dream to save Tommy?

~~~~~~~~~~~

Warning! Angst, past trauma, a bit of fluff 

Enjoy~

Waking up in the hole that was his room underneath Techno’s house was… Rough, it was always cold, and getting out of the blankets wasn’t the most pleasant experience, that's why Techno usually shouted from upstairs to wake up when the warmth of the fire had taken over the cold of the night.

But Techno was always wide awake when Tommy entered the comfortable home above his room, so, out of curiosity, he decided to fight the freezing cold of the morning and get out of bed earlier than usual, hoping to see what Techno was up to before he was awake.

Carefully climbing up, he peeked out the top of the stairs to see the candles and the fireplace were already lit, the dancing shadows on the walls upstairs made Tommy realize how cold it truly was, so after following the trail of warmth, he found no one home.

“B-big T?” he called out, finally getting to the top floor of the house, “Techno?” no one answered, the blonde boy looked around to find the man’s bed already done, like it was never slept in.

As he looked around, his eyes got distracted by the view outside the window: there was a blizzard raging on.

But if there was so much snow coming down, why wasn’t he here? Did Techno go out in the cold?

Getting closer to the glass, he couldn’t help but think about how pretty the snow was, everything was white… soft… cold and… a human?

A figure covered in blue was walking towards the house, the strong wind would reveal hints of red underneath the coat. Not to fret, it wasn’t blood, Techno never went outside without his red iconic cape, it was big, fluffy, and super warm, perfect for cold climates.

Tommy had the privilege of sleeping inside of it once and he had never slept better since.

Though, why was the man walking in a blizzard? And why was he so slow?

A surge of panic rose in the back of his mind when the figure started approaching the door, he wasn't supposed to be there- he was supposed to hide, he was supposed to-

“Good morning Theseus” the freezing air made the fire sway, serving as a dramatic entrance for the half-man half-pig. Closing the door with a bit of force, he snapped Tommy out of his trance: Wrong person, he wasn't supposed to hide from him, was he?

The smiling mask and the green hoodie of his warden still haunted his thoughts, as much as the big man he shared the house with ease the sensation of fear and depression he had felt, that creepy still smile was always watching from the corner of his vision. Yes, it was an illusion… and yet…

“I wasn't expecting you to be up so early “ Techno’s deep voice snapped him out again, bringing him back to the warmth of the fireplace, “Want to have breakfast since we’re both up? I don't mind eating earlier” taking off that huge and wet cape, he minded the blonde no attention, directly passing onto preparing a meal for two.

These moments of the two of them alone reminded him of how much Techno trusted him. When with others he was always on high alert with a sword at hand, ready to strike. But now? He had his back turned, focused on something else, his shoulders were also visibly more relaxed… He acted the same around Phil… And…

Wilbur…

“So are you gonna help me make breakfast? These eggs don't cook themselves y’know” Techno briefly looked over his shoulder to see the blondie froze in place, he wasn't good with people and emotions but it didn't take a degree to see that his thoughts weren't the most pleasant, the boy looked like he saw a ghost.

Tommy shook his thoughts away and started looking for the pan, grabbing milk, cookies, and some bread to toast.

The two had very different breakfast habits, Techno prepared toasts with eggs, no bacon tho, he wasn’t a cannibal, while Tommy ate anything sweet: cookies, cakes, anything goes.

One thing they both agreed on was milk, only because Techno couldn’t cultivate coffee beans himself due to the freezing temperatures.

“Thanks, big T” Techno nodded his head when handing Tommy his warm cup of milk, the sizzling of eggs getting cooked made the walls feel warm, comfortable even.

Taking a sip of the warm liquid, legs close to his chest and arms hugging them, he recalled how the day prior Techno had taught him to milk the cows he was breeding, with the number of inappropriate jokes he had made, Tommy was shocked Techno didn’t kick him out. People underestimated the man’s patience and kindness, of course it was for few to see the sight, and Tommy was grateful he was the lucky one in a million.

They ate in silence, Tommy didn’t go down a rant and talk for the whole breakfast, this time, the boy was happy with the silence, even if his mind was as loud as ever.

Techno took a bite and placed the plate aside, opening the front door to grab some firewood, explaining why he was walking so slow in the storm. Throwing it in the fireplace made sparkles and dust fly around for a few seconds, the man sat down and took another bite, “Why do you still trust Tubbo?” the out of nowhere question made him almost choke on his milk, “He has exiled you and clearly doesn’t care about your feelings nor well-being…” he munched on some more food, covering his mouth before speaking, “Why do you still want to see him?”  

The blonde boy stared at the dancing flames in the fireplace, why wouldn’t he trust Tubbo? “Tubbo is… e-everything I have left...” Techno looked over him confused, “After Dream got my discs, losing the election and Will lost his mind… he is all I have left” dipping for a bit too long a cookie in the warm milk, he slowly munched, thinking back at when he, Wilbur and Tubbo lived in those high black stone walls, before Eret and Fundy, before the war…

“Are you sure you’re not lying to yourself?” It was Tommy’s turn to be confused, “I’m just saying, Phil, Fundy, Quakity, Ranboo, Niki, they were all there for you too…” Techno counted the people on his fingers, making Tommy’s eyes widen a bit, “But they all did turn their back to you” he pointed out, making a tightness appear in the boy’s chest,  “… So are you sure you aren’t holding on to a lie? It doesn’t look like Tubbo cares that much about you-” “HE CARES ABOUT ME!!!” Techno raised a brow at the tone, “Are you sure he truly does?-” Tommy covered his ears, his body crumbling into a ball.

“SHUT UP DREAM YOU DON’T KNOW ME OR TUBBO!!!”

The room stood still, even the fire looked like it stopped moving, Techno shifted in his seat, eyes looking down in front of him. He didn’t mean to push that deep, he didn’t know this was a scar still open … but what preoccupied him the most was:

…

What in the hell did Dream do to this poor kid?

Even if Techno was silent, Tommy heard a million voices shouting nonsense right into his head. Squinting as hard as he could, he started feeling cold, the same humid cold he felt in his tent when he was alone waiting for him to get his items, his creepy smile… his harsh voice… his-

“Theseus...”

He snapped his head up at the man kneeling in front of him, Techno figured that by calling him Tommy it would have only made it worse, so using the nickname only he used seemed a better option…

And it was.

The shadows on the edge of his vision started to disappear, the braided pink hair and the preoccupied gaze made him realize, it was simply Techno… Wait- Techno? Didn’t he just say Drea-

Oh...

The tightness in his chest lightened meanwhile the knot in his throat thickened.

“I- I… I…” Techno’s reassuring smile beamed with light and kindness he had never seen before, “It’s alright Tommy, I’m here” he extended his hand toward the trembling teen, who instead of taking it, threw himself at him, hugging the man tightly.

“I’m sorry Techno!” Tommy buried his face into the soft fabric of Techno’s shirt, staining it with tears.

Techno wasn’t good at this comforting people thing, nor used to physical touch, hell it took his whole being to not jump at the hug. He was still kinda stiff, hesitant of what to do, but for Tommy, even if he was an annoying gremlin, Techno was willing to push all of this aside.

He hugged the blonde boy, caressing soothing circles on his back, “Shhh... It’s ok Tommy, I’m here” he looked up at the ceiling, thinking of how Dream had come searching for him...

~~~~~

“Do you know who killed Theseus, Techno?” he looked at the man, keeping a high guard, “I don’t remember the whole story… but he was killed by the king of the island he was taking refuge in after getting exiled”  Dream’s masks tilted to his crown, and then his red cape.

“Either way” he swung his axe on his shoulder, shrugging at the other man, “I’ll come to collect the favour soon, farewell”

As Techno looked over the green figure walking away, something in the back of his mind started to sound an alarm, this wasn’t going to end well

~~~~~

Tommy’s sobs became quieter, the grip on his white shirt loosened, but the hug was far from over.

“As long as I’m here, Dream won’t hurt you…”

If the admin of the server ever came back to use the favour, it probably will be for Tommy, Techno’s guts were right most of the time, but oh boy did he wish they were wrong right now. He wasn’t sure he was willing to sacrifice the already delicate alliance with Dream for Tommy, he couldn’t decide what to give up, not now, not never.

“... I won’t let him…“

Techno wanted to promise him, but he prefered to stay silent instead of giving half-hope, instead of lying and backstabbing…

...Just like many did to him…

… Just like Tubbo did to Tommy...