#bad matchmaking

[realitybitesyouknowit]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Other(s) Characters: Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Harry Potter, Pansy Parkinson, Luna Lovegood, Cedric Diggory Additional Tags: Crack, Dark Comedy, Fluff and Humor, Bad Matchmaking, Feelings Realization, Getting Together, Harry Potter & Tom Riddle Attend Hogwarts Together, Simp Tom Riddle, HP Shipuary 2022 Summary:

Tom has hated every single person Harry has ever dated. When Harry breaks up with his girlfriend, Tom takes the opportunity to make sure his best friend ends up with someone suitable. It's just a shame nobody seems to be suitable.

[hairmetal666]

It's 3am. It's pouring down rain. Steve's soaked to the skin, been wandering the city for most of the night, hasn't slept in almost 24 hours, thinks maybe he's on the brink of delirium, and then a truck hits a pool of ponded water, sending a muddy wave cascading over him.

He just wants to go home but Dustin lost his dog and he can't leave a puppy out in this weather.

Steve steps off the curb, and what looks like a shallow puddle turns out to be a water-filled hole. He crashes towards the pavement, nothing he can do to stop it. As fast he's falling, he's miraculously not, arms wrapped around his waist. It takes a second for his brain to catch up, to understand that he's being held upright in an old-fashioned, romantic dip.

"Careful, sweetheart," a deep and smoke raspy voice says from above him.

it sends chills down his spine, the good kind, and warmth slips through him. His rescuer is a solid 10 knockout. Long, curly hair; eyeliner; decked out in leather and studs and chains. He smells like booze and cigarettes and weed, and it's intoxicating. Steve has to fight the instinct to nuzzle the guy's leather jacket. He's beautiful, holds Steve with the swagger only a guy with rings on every finger could pull off.

And Steve is a mud soaked mess in sweatpants and a threadbare Hawkins High tee. But the guy holding him isn't letting go. He stares down at Steve, brown eyes wide.

"Steve!" A voice calls over the patter of the rain.

"Dustin?" He says at the same time that the man holding him says, "Henderson?"

"Eddie?" Dustin asks.

"Wait, dnd Eddie?" Steve gets his feet under him, but Eddie's arms don't drop.

"You're the famous babysitter Steve I've been hearing all about?"

They gape at each other until Dustin reaches them.

"What are you still doing out here?" Dustin shouts. "We found Dart hours ago."

"Dustin!" He thinks he might cry. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You weren't answering your walkie!"

"Fuck." Steve drops his face to his hand. The walkie. Which is on the table by the front door where he and Robin leave their keys.

Steve swallows his frustration, the misery of waterlogged shoes, having to be up to open the store in a few hours, meeting the hottest guy he's ever seen when he looks like a drowned rat.

"I promised I'd find Dart, didn't I? Now what the hell are you doing out so late?"

"Mom and I were looking for you!"

"Let's get you back to the car, man, okay?" Steve says to Dustin. He wants to end this weird, terrible, embarrassing night before it gets even more humiliating.

"I can give you a ride home," Eddie says. He's got this weird, intense look on his face, staring at Steve.

"I'm only a few blocks away. I'll be fine. C'mon, Henderson."

"Oh, I can walk him. You head home."

He nods, starts towards his apartment, but turns back just in time to see Eddie and Dustin share a look he can't parse.

---

A few days later, Dustin's following him around at work, chattering about dnd as Steve shelves books, and without taking a breath during a soliloquy about owl bears, says, "Eddie's running a one-shot for us next week. You should come! It's a great way to get into the game."

"I'm not playing dnd," Steve answers. He slides a book onto the shelf. "I've told you this."

"Yeah, but you liked Eddie, right? He'd help you out!"

Steve squints at the kid. "I didn't really meet Eddie to know. Anyway, I'm sure he doesn't want a newbie crashing."

Steve is pretty sure Eddie doesn't like him, based on their short introduction, so he's not interested in forcing himself into the guy's dnd club. The night they met was humiliating enough, Steve in all his dorky glory.

"No, he totally wouldn't care. C'mon, Steve!"

"No can do." He ruffles Dustin's hair as he walks away.

He thinks that'll be the end of it, but every few days, for weeks Dustin and all the rest of the kids stop at the store to beg him to join their dnd club.

---

Steve is working the register and he hears the shuffling clank of a customer, looks up and finds Eddie. He's staring at Steve with that same look from the night they met, intense and piercing, cutting straight through the heart of him. He feels himself start to blush.

The first thing out of Eddie's mouth is, "Wait, this is your store?"

"Yeah?" Steve asks. "Is that--is that weird?"

"No! Not at all. It's a good store. Cute." His nose wrinkles when he says it and Steve's blush grows hotter. He knew Eddie thought he was a dork.

"Cute. Yeah. Right. Can I help you with something?"

Eddie rocks back on his heels, hands going to the pockets of his leather jacket, sending his chains jingling. "Oh, so, actually I wanted to see if you were busy?"

"Yeah, man. I'm busy." He laughs, doesn't intend to be mean about it, but he and Robin only opened the store six months ago and both take night classes at the local community college. Plus, everything he does with the kids.

Eddie's face flushes bright. "Oh, sure, of course. Yeah, I--I'll see you around."

The door thunks to a close behind him, and a voice immediately pops up to ask, "What the hell was that?"

He turns to find Max Mayfield hands on hips, glaring up at him, Robin close behind.

"Shouldn't you be in school?"

Max rolls her eyes and strides up to the counter. "Why were you an asshole to Eddie?"

"He started it!"

"I highly doubt that."

"Okay, Ms. Know-it-all, why don't you tell me what happened?"

"I know for a fact that Eddie came in today to ask you out. So, tell me, Steve Harrington, why he rushed out of here looking like a kicked puppy?"

"What?" He yelps. "Eddie doesn't even like me!"

She glares. "Doesn't like you? He's been pathetic about you since you met."

He gapes at Robin. "Don't look at me," she shrugs. "But that guy was definitely here to ask you out."

"Fix it." Max commands as she stomps out the door. "He bar tends at that metal place on 68th."

---

It's just after 9pm and he's at the metal bar on 68th, decidedly out of place in the yellow t-shirt and jeans he wore to his business accounting class.

It's fairly busy for a weeknight, but Eddie's not hard to find. He's obviously in his element, bobbing his head to a song Steve's never heard as he mixes a drink.

With a hard swallow and a healthy dose of humility, he walks up to the bar.

"Be right--" Eddie starts, balking when he notices Steve.

"Can we talk?" he shouts over the music.

Eddie's eyes widen a little, but he nods, slips out from behind the bar to guide him to an employee exit.

"What's up, Steve?" Eddie asks. His hands are in his pockets, shoulders bowed in.

"I wanted to apologize."

"What for?"

"Earlier, I--when you said the store was cute I thought you were making fun of me."

"But--why?"

"I thought you didn't like me." Steve cringes at the admission.

"What?" He laughs.

"I don't know. We met in the middle of the night and I was covered in mud looking for a dog that wasn't lost anymore."

"Steve. Holy shit." Eddie shakes his head. "You looked gorgeous that night. The way your clothes were sticking--you know what? Never mind. Did you think I wanted you to come to dnd because I hated you?"

"You wanted me to come?"

"Dustin didn't..."

"No! And he's been asking me to play dnd weekly for the past five years."

"Jesus Christ," Eddie slumps agains the brick wall at his back. "No wonder you turned me down today."

"To be fair," Steve slumps next to him. "If I had realized you were asking me out, I wouldn't have turned you down."

"No?" Eddie asks. His brown eyes gleam.

"Definitely not. I've had a crush on you since that night. Sort of devastating since I thought you didn't like me." Steve runs his hand through his hair, watches Eddie track the movement.

"The store is cute, Steve. I--uh--I've been a few times. Back before I knew you were the owner! I just kept seeing a hot employee with great hair and a perfect ass, and the vaguely mean lesbian barista gives me free drinks."

"That's Robin," Steve says. He's smiling so hard.

"I know that now," Eddie smiles back. "Sorry for being an idiot."

"Me too." Steve nods. "Do you--could I still come to dnd? Or take you out sometime?"

"Why not both?" Dimples pop on Eddie's cheeks, and Steve's heart flips.

"I like both." They're still against the wall, but drifting into each other's space.

"So Dustin said."

It surprises a laugh out of Steve. "I'm gonna kill him."

"Too bad. He's a nice kid."

"Eh, we've got six more to choose from."

"I have a few more hours here, but there's a diner down the street that does some of the most mediocre pancakes I've ever tasted. Meet me there? Around 2?"

"A thousand lost puppies wouldn't make me miss it."

The next time Steve is out at 3am he's pressed against a building, Eddie kissing him so thoroughly he knows he's never recovering from this one.

[umblrspectrum]

hi im back

[demodraws0606]

How Whit is heavily tied to DRDT's theme of Fate

I've seen a lot of talks about the themes of DRDT's story and a lot that I've seen come up is the one of fate.

More specifically are people stuck on a single trajectory forever or can they possibly change how their life was "meant" to be ?

We see this especially with Teruko and Chapter 2's themes of morality. It ties with DRDT's time aspect as well, the question of if the future is premeditated or do we have agency on how things happen.

Now you're wondering how that possibly ties to Whit.

Well what if I say that Whit's entire talent and his "intuition" pretty much incapsulate the theme of fate perfectly.

Because think about it really, what does matchmaking really mean ?

It's to decide weither two people are fated to be together.

You can't really divorce the concept of fate from matchmaking, it's quite literally the entire concept.

Whit's talent, in a way, literally has him predict people's fates.

But what's even more damning with Whit is his "intuition" which seems to be more than just being able to predict if two people will become romantic partners.

He seems to just know certain that things are true

Here are the three things that he predicts :

Charles and him will be friends one day -> They did end up becoming friends

Charles truly did have a phobia of blood -> It was true, he wasn't pretending

Teruko will be happy -> I doubt that she'll be unhappy forever so uhm technically...probably true ?

Now let's be clear none of those are romance related, which insinuates that Whit's intuition is what got him into being a matchmaker and not vice verca (aka he decided to use his intuition to be a matchmaker).

So there's a highly likelyhood that Whit's abilities is in some ways being able to predict fate.

Which is a huge fucking thing considering DRDT's themes is about time and fate.

[pybun]

🧐

[dirtbagdefender]

[coffeeandbatboys]

It's that time again...

***All Characters Will Be Clone troopers totally did not forget to put that

My OC Helena has decided to host my 400 follower celebration at Midnight Oil, her caf shop on triple zero. She'll be handling the matchups while I write headcanons for those that request. This event will run until July 1st (unless otherwise stated)

What I won't do: nsfw, male reader (at least for headcanons), cloneshipping.

What I will do: Fem or GN reader, pregnancy, spicy to a point, injuries and family issues

Transcript and tags under the cut

Matchups: Tell me a little bit about yourself and I’ll match you with a trooper! Likes and dislikes, relevant physical details (that you’re comfortable with sharing) and personality description are a good place to start.

Headcanons: Request headcanons for a certain trooper (or a few, if you do so wish) and I’ll write them out for you

Rules:

One request per menu item per person. (aka, You may ask for one headcanon and one matchup)

Anons will be on but please @ yourself

Please, only request if you plan to reblog the answer

I reserve the right to discard any asks that do not follow these rules

tagging:

@moonlightwarriorqueen @sunshinesdaydream @ladyzirkonia @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal

@sev-on-kamino @eternal-transcience @techs-stitches @sees-writes @the-bad-batch-baroness

@lightwise @trixie2023 @ulchabhangorm @masterjedilenaaa @eyeluvmusic21 @523rdrebel

@l0nesome-dreams @arcsimper5 @orbitalmirror @deewithani @cloneloverrrrr

@freesia-writes @the-bad-batch-baroness @anxiouspineapple99

[imalicu]

p/s: Another random idea, I guess???

...

At a party (They're not a lover)

Armin: I'm not drunk.

Annie: Calm down, put the cup down. You're already flushed red.

Armin suddenly grabs Annie the collar and pulls her closer.

Annie surprised, instinctively glances at Armin's lips but holds herself back.

Armin: I'm telling you, I'm not drunk, okay?

Hitch raises her phone, recording the scene: Turns out we’ve got two persons drunk here. One drunk on alcohol, and one drunk on love.

[tcwmatchmakingau]

Everybody Hates Neyo Round 2: Matchmaking Boogaloo

A/N: This is a standalone sequel to “Everybody Hates Neyo,” (NSFW) by @dystopicjumpsuit​ (that’s me), and “The Blacklist,” by the brilliant @blueink-bluesoul​, who also generously let me borrow the character of Daria Trace (THANK YOU!). You don’t need to read those fics to understand this one, but you should because they’re great and they provide more background. I converted the Reader-insert into an OC because to be frank, she’s a piece of work, and I didn’t want to project that onto my readers. That said, as always, feel free to insert yourself into the story if you prefer; I haven’t described the OC beyond being a woman with hair long enough to pull.

Pairing: Commander Neyo x the Admiral (formerly Fem!Reader)

Rating: M | 18+ | Minors DNI

Wordcount: 6.5K (I know)

Warnings and tags: toxic, obsessive behavior; SO MUCH SMUT; hatefucking; rough sex; oral sex; PIV; hair pulling; biting; sex under the influence of alcohol; Neyo and the Admiral being absolute menaces to society

Disclaimer: Let me just put on my Auntie DJ hat for a second. *ahem* This is a work of fiction intended for entertainment only. Please do not take this as a guide to romance or a healthy relationship. Neyo and the Bad-miral are flawed characters in a wildly problematic relationship with more red flags than the Fire Nation. Enjoy!

Matchmaker extraordinaire Daria Trace was not accustomed to failure. When she applied her considerable intellect to a problem, she did not stop until she formulated a solution. Which was why her now-99% matchmaking success rate galled her so intensely. In all her years of matchmaking, she had never encountered a client so stubbornly determined to thwart her efforts as Marshal Commander Neyo. After twelve failed matches—one of which involved a call from an infuriated woman demanding to know “why the kriff you thought I was a good match for that sociopath”—she had reluctantly conceded defeat.

The blacklisting of Commander Neyo from the Right to Love Matchmaking Service spread like wildfire through the GAR gossip channels. Most of the troopers thought it was hilarious; others insisted that he’d finally gotten what he deserved. In fact, the only people who seemed to have any sympathy for Neyo were Commanders Bacara (to be expected) and Fox (somewhat less expected). And when Fox reached out directly to Daria and asked her, as a personal favor, to give Neyo one more chance, she agreed. One more chance, and ONLY to give her an opportunity to get that track record back up to a perfect 100%.

She glared irritably at Neyo’s file and clicked her stylus three times, twirling it between her fingers. The man was impossible. It was no wonder he’d turned to RTL for help finding a partner; any woman in her right mind would run in the opposite direction the minute she looked into those blank, frigid eyes. She shuddered involuntarily. Shark’s eyes. Daria had made a few discreet inquiries after he’d first signed up for the service, just to make sure she wasn’t about to set up some unsuspecting match with a serial murderer. Without fail, every single answer said the same thing: he was an ice-cold sonofabitch, but he had a strict code of honor, and no, he wasn’t a serial murderer. Probably.

She sighed and tossed his file to the side, to be revisited some other day. He was her most difficult client, but by no means was he the only problematic match candidate, and she had a small stack of what Blizzard liked to call The Hopeless Casefiles waiting for her to review. Just thinking about Neyo’s case had given her the beginnings of a spectacular tension headache, and she flipped through the folders quickly, looking for one that was a little less challenging. As she skimmed the stacks of flimsi, her eyes came to rest on one name: Reeda Wai’yen.

Now there’s a thought.

Daria was sure that Reeda was a lovely woman, despite all evidence to the contrary. She was just very… intense. Like Neyo, she had chewed through several potential matches, and the most frequent word that appeared in her failed matches’ post-date surveys was “intimidating,” followed closely by “terrifying.” Daria had sniffed disdainfully that those particular matches simply couldn’t handle a strong woman; however, she had to admit that after several months of trying, she had not been able to find a perfect match for Reeda. She pulled Neyo’s file and laid it out next to Reeda’s. As she compared their backgrounds and preferences, she became more and more convinced. This could work. Given their personalities, it might well be the best possible outcome for society at large if they were both removed from the dating pool. And if it happened to close out her two most annoying files, well. That would just be the cherry on top of her perfect-track-record sundae.

A timid knock sounded on Reeda’s office door.

“Come,” she called shortly.

Her assistant, Lissi, poked her head into the room. “Sorry to bother you, sir, but you’ve received a comm from RTL Matchmaking.”

Reeda cursed. She was up to her ass in flimsiwork, and she was meeting with the Senate Task Force on Galactic Security in ten minutes. She did not have time for this now. 

“Take care of it,” she ordered.

“Sir?” Lissi asked, her wide, startled eyes giving her a distinct resemblance to a terrified ash-rabbit. 

“Just take care of it,” Reeda repeated, tamping down her irritation at being questioned. “You know my schedule better than I do. Set it up. Somewhere nice—somewhere in the Federal district. I don’t have time to deal with traffic.”

Lissi blinked, nonplussed. “Don’t you want to see who you matched with?”

“No time,” Reeda said, rising to gather her materials for the meeting. “Just put it on my calendar, and I’ll be there.”

Three nights later, Reeda sat in the restaurant at the top of the tower where her penthouse was located, waiting for her mystery date to arrive. She had to commend Lissi’s efficiency in choosing the venue; the only traffic she’d had to endure was at the lift. And it was a lovely restaurant, she had to admit, with stunning views of the Coruscant cityscape. She had only eaten here once since she’d bought the flat, usually opting to have food delivered to her office at the Republic Center for Military Operations as she worked late into the night.

She had resisted the urge to bring her datapad with her to the restaurant, knowing that if she did, she would inevitably get sucked into work, but now she wished she’d taken a moment to review the file from RTL. It wasn’t that she thought all clone troopers were interchangeable; far from it. She had worked closely with them during the war, had fought by their sides, and she had found them to be brave, competent, and loyal. They were also notoriously attractive, but she was a professional, and she was their superior officer, and she had never allowed that line to become blurred—except on one memorable and highly regrettable occasion.

She had had no time for a personal life during the war, but now that it was over—well, to be honest, she still had no time for a personal life. Which was exactly why she had reached out to RTL; it was the perfect solution. She didn’t enjoy solitude. She wanted companionship, and maybe even something more. But she needed a partner who would understand the demands of her career, and nobody understood the burden of duty better than the clones. Now that she had separated from the GAR and returned to her post in her home planet’s military defense force, the rules regarding fraternization no longer applied to her.

She hadn’t bothered to review the file because she’d learned from the previous several failed dates that a promising file was no indicator of compatibility. Still, as she waited for her date, who was now seven minutes late, she wished she’d at least checked to see if he had any identifying marks or tattoos that would make him easier to spot. To be fair, though, the few clones present in the restaurant were already paired up with other diners.

Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t intended to skip lunch, but she’d had back-to-back meetings with the joint chiefs of the Core Worlds Defense Alliance and the senate appropriations committee, and one thing led to another. The service droid had delivered a basket of fresh, hot bread rolls, which she had heroically resisted for the first six minutes past the scheduled start of the date, but now her resolve began to crumble. If her mystery date didn’t have the basic courtesy to be on time, by the Force, he wouldn’t have a leg to stand on if she ate all the bread before he arrived.

She buttered a roll and took a small bite. She couldn’t suppress the groan of relief at the buttery, yeasty goodness, and she quickly polished it off, then picked up another. She had just begun to butter her third role when the unmistakable voice of a clone spoke next to her.

“Admiral.”

She turned automatically, a smile just beginning to form on her lips, when she caught sight of a familiar set of numbers tattooed on a handsome, arrogant face.

“Oh, no,” she said with disgust. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Marshal Commander Neyo replied contemptuously. “I have as much right to be here as you do.”

“I’m on a date,” she snapped.

He looked pointedly at the empty chair across from her. “Looks like your date has a strong sense of self-preservation. Probably took one look at you and ran for their life.”

“He’s just a little late,” she said, tilting her jaw at a haughty angle to hide the flash of hurt at his words.

“That must kill you,” he said with a mirthless chuckle. “I remember the time you made a Jedi padawan cry for being three minutes behind schedule.”

“There were barely tears. Do. Not. Sit,” she gritted out as he made himself comfortable in the chair across from her. He picked up one of the remaining bread rolls and took a large bite, and she sighed. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“It just so happens, I am also on a date,” he said, mumbling around the bite of bread.

“Oh?” she wrinkled her nose at his table manners. “And who’s the unlucky lady?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Some civvie named Reeda.”

Her hand tightened dangerously around her butter knife. Neyo’s eyes dropped to the blade, and he smirked.

“Disappointed?” he asked.

“You could say that,” she said, grinding her jaw. “I’m Reeda.”

He choked on his bite of bread and wheezed a bit, pounding his chest to clear his airway. Alas, he survived.

“What?” he sputtered.

“You didn’t even bother to find out my first name after you were inside me?” she demanded. Her sharp tone attracted attention from the surrounding diners, and she heard a few quiet titters from the tables around her, but she was too irate to care.

“You didn’t even bother to find out who’d be eating dinner with you?” he retorted.

“Don’t pretend you aren’t just as surprised as I am,” she snapped. “Didn’t you read the file?”

“I didn’t get a file, just a call.” He grunted. “Apparently, ‘beggars can’t be choosers,’ and I was lucky to get a match at all.”

“Why am I not surprised?” she mocked.

“Careful, Admiral. Don’t forget they matched you with me.”

“I would be insulted if it weren’t so obviously a mistake. I can’t say I’m impressed with their performance thus far.”

“For once, I agree with you,” he said. “You’d have to be a special kind of incompetent to think we were a good match.”

The service droid approached the table and asked, “May I take your order?”

“He’s not staying,” Reeda cut in.

“I’ll have the bantha filet,” Neyo replied, ignoring her. “Bloody.”

He turned to her and arched his brows. The droid waited expectantly.

“I’ve suddenly lost my appetite,” she lied.

Neyo’s mouth twisted, and he huffed a breath through his nose. “The admiral will have the roast porg. And a bottle of Alderaanian red.”

The droid nodded and ambled away. Reeda glared at Neyo.

“I don’t eat meat, you presumptuous ass,” she said.

“Liar,” he said. “Unfortunately, the souls of the innocent weren’t on the menu, so I had to settle for your second-favorite meal.”

“At least you’re safe, since you obviously have no soul and you’re definitely not innocent,” she said in a pleasant tone.

Damn him for being right about the porg, though. How did he know?

The wine arrived, and he poured a generous glass for each of them. She didn’t toast; just downed half of it in a single swallow. Neyo sipped his and leaned back in his chair to observe her. His sleek, severe hair and the large tattoo on his cheek made him look menacing as hell, but it was his eyes that made brave men take a step back. She didn’t know how it was possible for his eyes to be that unnerving. Gods, why did he have to be so handsome? What a waste of perfectly good Fett genes to have a personality like that.

“Did you stay just to torment me?” she asked when the silence stretched beyond the limits of her endurance.

“And because I heard the filet was good,” he said affably. “What are you even doing on Coruscant? I thought you’d scuttled back to whatever hellhole spawned you.”

“Kuat,” she bit out from between clenched teeth. “I was assigned to work as our military liaison on Coruscant.”

“Couldn’t stand having you back on the planet?” he derided. “I don’t blame them.”

“I need to use the fresher,” she said, flinging her napkin down on the table with excessive force. “Feel free to die while I’m gone.”

She strode purposefully through the restaurant, her face set in a steely mask. She knew she was drawing attention from other patrons, but if she sat at that table and listened to Neyo needle her for one more second, she was either going to stab him or burst into tears. She pushed through the refresher doors and went to the sink, washing her hands just to give herself something to do. The face that stared back at her from the mirror was Admiral Wai’yen, not Reeda. Stern. Unyielding. Unaffected.

She swallowed, and her face crumpled. Tears of rage stung her eyes, and she ruthlessly wiped them away with her clenched fist. A soft noise at the door startled her, and she whirled to face the intruder. Horror flooded her. It was Neyo, and he’d caught her crying in the ladies’ room.

“What the kriff do you think you’re doing in here?” she demanded icily. “Get out.”

He stared at her for a moment, and then he locked the door. Stalking across the room, he cupped her jaw in his hands and tilted her face to get a closer look. She tried to pull away, to put her Admiral Wai’yen mask back in place, but then his thumb stroked softly next to her eye, wiping away the tear that had breached containment. She gasped involuntarily, and his lips collided with hers.

Reeda was so shocked that for a moment she went perfectly still, but then Neyo flicked his tongue across her lower lip, and her body remembered how to move. She thrust him away and stood back, glaring at him. His chest rose and fell quickly, and those cold eyes blazed with a dark and covetous fire. She raised a hand to her lips and felt the slickness left by his tongue. Something snapped inside her. She took two hasty steps forward, and she was in his arms again, his hands rough and dominating on her body as they consumed each other with a kiss that teetered on the edge of violence. 

Lips, tongues, teeth crashed together. He clasped her tightly against his hard, unyielding body, and unbidden, the memory of him deep inside her came flooding back. He gripped her ass and ground his rapidly stiffening cock against her. Her reaction was electric. She rolled her hips, nearly climbing him in desperation. He dropped his mouth to her neck and kissed her once, roughly, and then to her breast, yanking aside her dress as he closed his teeth on her soft skin. He picked her up by the waist and set her on the edge of the sink, dropping to his knees between her thighs, rucking up her dress around her hips, and then his mouth was on her.

He didn’t even bother removing her underwear, as though he couldn’t wait another millisecond to taste her. He licked and sucked on her through the fabric, his mouth working frantically. Her body jolted and trembled at the effort of staying upright, and then his tongue snaked past the lace and dipped into her, smooth and hot and wet. He let out a vicious growl and grabbed her hips, settling her thighs over his shoulders, and then he pulled her off the sink and thrust her against his face as his tongue speared over and over into her cunt. She yelped and scrambled to brace herself with her hands, her arms shaking with exertion.

She couldn’t come like this, but kriff, it was hot to feel Neyo throw her around with such ease, like she was his own personal toy. How many nights had she fucked herself to sleep to the memory of their first encounter? The way he’d lifted her bodily off the ground and thrust into her, supporting them both with those powerful thighs—it played on a loop in her head for months, long after the bite marks and bruises had faded.

His tongue slid out of her cunt and swirled around her clit, and her legs spasmed around his head. She couldn’t come like this. Could she? All the muscles in her body began to tense, and her pelvis began to rock rhythmically against his face. Shit, I’m going to come. No sooner had the thought formed than Neyo dropped her back onto the sink and pulled away from her.

“No!” she wailed. “You bastard, I was right there!”

He shot to his feet. “Shut. Up,” he bit out, and kissed her punishingly hard. “Do you want the whole Federal District to know what we’re doing?”

He pulled her head back to expose her throat, and he scraped his teeth across her delicate skin. She felt his other hand fumbling in between them. Within seconds, his cock was free and thrusting against the scrap of lace that still covered her. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him against her, determined to find the stimulation that she needed to reach completion.

“Get inside me,” she hissed.

“You aren’t calling the shots any more, Admiral,” he growled. “You don’t get to give commands.”

“I hate you,” she breathed. 

“And yet here you are, begging for my cock,” he said coldly. 

“I do not beg,” she said. “Ever.”

He released her hair and pried her legs away from himself, then took a step back. “You get nothing until you admit that you want me. I’ve waited a long time for this. I can keep waiting.”

“What the kark is that supposed to mean?” she demanded, sliding off the sink to stand in front of him.

“It means you give me what I want, or I walk out that door right now and you can figure your own shit out.”

Was this his twisted kriffing way of asking for consent? Because she was pretty sure she’d covered that when she all but ordered him to fuck her.

“Fine,” she said in a low voice. “I…” She nearly choked on the words, and Neyo’s intent gaze pinned her in place. “I want you.”

He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her in for a bruising kiss, then spun her around and bent her over the sink. He pulled up her dress, yanked down her panties, and thrust into her. She muffled a whimper at the intrusion and squeezed her eyes shut as she adjusted to the stretch. He wrapped his hands around her hair and jerked her head up.

“Open your eyes. I want you to watch,” he ordered.

She complied, shocked when she saw her own ravaged face in the mirror as Neyo pounded into her from behind. Her makeup was smeared, her hair was a wreck, her eyes were dilated with lust, and a sheen of sweat glistened across her skin. She flicked her gaze to stare at Neyo. His face was twisted into a scowl, and if she had any sense at all, she would have been frightened, but she was in too deep to care. His hard eyes met hers in the mirror, and his jaw tightened.

He released her hair and slid his arm around her body, between her breasts, to wrap around her throat, and he lifted her upright so he could whisper in her ear.

“Do you know what you did to me?” His voice was hoarse and anguished. “Every time I kissed someone, all I could taste was you. Every time I hooked up, all I could remember was this perfect fucking pussy.”

He pounded into her with bruising intensity, furiously working her clit with his free hand. Her head began to throb. This was so wrong. He couldn’t be saying what she thought she was hearing. She was confused from the lack of blood flowing to her brain.

“I got matched twelve different times, and not one of them was right, because not one of them was you,” he snarled. “You cursed me. You haunt me.”

The world began to darken around the edges as her eyes drifted closed, and he released her throat and forced her head to the side so she faced him.

“Look at me when you fucking come,” he ordered.

She gasped, and he clamped his hand down over her mouth to muffle her scream as he wrenched an orgasm from her body. He didn’t let up, chasing after her at a frenzied pace that rocked her entire body as she sobbed into his hand.

“Inside?” he asked roughly.

She nodded and whimpered as tears blurred her vision and spilled down her cheeks. He came with two brutal thrusts, and she felt the hot rush of his release deep inside. He shuddered against her hair as his cock softened and slipped out of her. At last, he loosened his grip and turned her to face him as he leaned against the wall for support. He wrapped her in his arms and stroked her hair as she rested her head against him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she sighed as she licked his neck, unable to resist the temptation of tasting his skin.

“I’m sure there’s an official list in my GAR file,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

Reeda cleaned up quickly while Neyo went back to their table so they wouldn’t be spotted leaving the refresher together. Her hairstyle was destroyed, so she hastily repinned it as well as she could, and then wiped off the mascara that smudged heavily beneath her eyes. A quick reapplication of lipstick, and she almost looked presentable—with the minor exception of her missing panties, which Neyo had silently retrieved from the refresher floor and tucked into his pocket while maintaining strong eye contact.

When she returned to the dining room, Neyo waylaid her with a ferocious expression. Force, what is he scugged about now?

“We’re leaving,” he said, taking her by the wrist and pulling her toward the exit. A few quiet murmurs whispered around the room as he dragged her behind him.

“What?” she asked, tugging her wrist to no avail. “Why?”

“The karking droid gave away our table,” he said.

“My deepest apologies, Admiral,” the droid said. “We can locate another table if you would care to wait.”

Reeda assessed the room quickly. Every table was occupied, and none of the diners were anywhere close to being ready to leave. Moreover, at least half of the customers were eyeing her and Neyo with expressions ranging from amusement to overt curiosity.

“No,” she said. “Have the food delivered to my flat.”

“Right away, sir,” the droid replied, waddling off to relay the order to the kitchen.

Neyo looked at her inquisitively. “Your flat?”

“I live in this building,” she said. “Come with me.”

She was keenly aware of the many sets of eyes that tracked their hasty exit, but before long, she led Neyo into the private, secure lift that opened directly into her penthouse. He stood silently next to her on the trip up, watching her with an inscrutable gaze. She tried not to give herself an opportunity to second-guess her decision to let him into her home. Strange, she thought, how this seemed more intimate than allowing him inside her body. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d allowed another person into her home. 

The lift doors opened, and he followed her into the flat, pausing long enough to remove their shoes, then looking around curiously.

“Lived here long?”

“A few months,” she said. “I bought it when I found out I’d be stationed on Coruscant long-term.”

“It’s nice,” he said. “Very… clean.”

She laughed. “You mean sterile. I haven’t had time to do much decorating. I’m hardly here except to sleep, anyway.”

He nodded. “I thought I’d have more time for hobbies after the war ended, but now it’s just nonstop—”

“Red tape and committees,” she finished with a sympathetic grimace. He shot her a wry grin. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him smile before, and it did uncomfortable things to her brain. She tried not to think about it, instead asking, “What kind of hobbies? Aside from plotting my slow death, obviously.”

“Oh, you know,” he said vaguely. “Torturing small, adorable creatures; sharpening my vibroblade collection; collecting stamps; that sort of thing.”

She blinked. “I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

He regarded her steadily for a moment, eyes unreadable as ever. “You really think the worst of me, don’t you?”

She was taken aback. “I—”

Her reply was cut off by the chime of the door. The food had arrived, thank the Force, which gave her a moment to stop herself from blurting out her immediate thought: You’ve never given me any reason to think anything else.

Neyo was a competent soldier—brilliant, in fact. There was no question that he had one of the finest tactical and strategic minds in the GAR. But as a person? From the moment they’d met, he’d been antagonistic, sardonic, cold. He’d challenged her authority and provoked her in meetings. He’d only treated her with the barest semblance of civility in public, and in private—Well. They both knew how things went when they were alone.

The service droid rolled a cart into the dining room and began setting up the meal.

“Can I get you a drink?” she offered Neyo. “I don’t have any Alderaanian red, but I do have Cheedoan whiskey.”

“The good stuff,” he replied. “I’ll have a glass. Thanks.”

The droid finished setting up and shuffled out the front door as Reeda poured two generous glasses of whiskey at the wet bar.

“Ice?” she asked.

He didn’t answer, and when she turned around, she nearly dropped the glasses in surprise to find him standing close behind her. He locked his eyes on hers and never looked away as he took one of the glasses and drained it in a single swallow, then set it down with a decisive click on the counter. Her heart began to pound as he loomed over her. He traced his fingers from her elbow up to her wrist, and then he wrapped his hand around hers and raised her glass to her lips. 

The whiskey burned a fiery path across her tongue and down her throat. A few droplets escaped and splashed coldly on her chest. Neyo didn’t let up until she emptied the glass, and when she was done, he leaned down and sucked the liquor off her skin. His hands dropped to her hips and slid up her back as he located the zipper of her dress and dragged it down excruciatingly slowly, and all the while, his mouth moved across her skin. He slipped the straps down over her shoulders and let the dress fall to the floor, and then he kissed a path along the lacy edge of her bra.

“Thanks for the matched set,” he said, unhooking it and pulling it off.

“Those were expensive, asshole,” she said unsteadily.

He didn’t reply, but she knew she was never going to see that bra again. He kissed his way down her breast and captured her nipple in his mouth, abrading it lightly with his teeth. She jolted, and the empty glass slipped from her hand and smashed against the hard tiles of the floor. 

Neyo barely responded to the sound of shattering crystal. Reeda froze, keenly aware that the smallest movement could result in a bloody footful of glass. She stood utterly, helplessly still as he continued to explore her body with his teeth and lips and hands and tongue. He was thorough in his attentions, and something about being entirely at his mercy was wildly arousing. Her head spun as the whiskey began to work its insidious way through her bloodstream.

“I missed this perfume. What is it?” he murmured against the soft skin of her abdomen.

“I don’t wear any,” she said.

He nuzzled against her as though he could transfer her scent to his own skin. Without warning, he scooped her up and carried her out of the room, completely disregarding the risk to himself. But instead of dropping her as soon as they were clear of the broken glass as she expected, he asked, “Bedroom?”

“Left,” she said, and he strode across the flat and kicked open the door, to her intense irritation. “You gonna pay for the broken doorknob?”

He didn’t reply, just tossed her onto the bed and pounced on her as soon as she landed. He slid in between her thighs and gripped her hard as his mouth descended on hers, kissing her as though he were trying to devour her soul. He was still fully clothed, and she scrambled to pull off his shirt. He was completely unhelpful, too engrossed in her taste. She raked her nails across his skin as she yanked his shirt over his head, and he seized her lip in his teeth in revenge.

At last, the barrier of his shirt was gone, and she writhed against him, desperate to feel as much of his warm, smooth skin against her as possible. They clashed together, sinking nails and teeth into each other. At some point, Neyo got his trousers down enough to free his cock, and he shoved into her. His belt chafed harshly on her delicate skin as she wrapped her legs around him, urging him to go deeper, harder, faster. The sounds they made were unholy, primal: growls and grunts and screams of pain and ecstasy as they tore into each other with all the aggression that they had built over the years. 

She pulled his hair; he clawed her back. She slapped his face; he bit her shoulder. She snarled that she loathed him; he interlaced his fingers with hers and whispered how beautiful she was when she came apart beneath him. She thrust him away and kicked him across the bed; he pinned her down and fucked her until she sobbed and begged for more. At some point, she tasted blood, and she didn’t know or care whose it was. And when at last she lost count of how many times he’d brought her to orgasm, he curled his body around hers and traced his thumb softly over her features as she drifted to sleep.

“If I die while I’m inside you, it’s the closest I’ll ever get to heaven,” he whispered.

“Force, you say some kriffed up shit,” she grumbled.

Reeda awakened slowly, aware of something blissfully warm and soothing moving across her skin. She cracked her eyes open. Neyo was lying on top of her, dragging his tongue lazily over her body. He roamed along her curves, and it wasn’t until he paused at her bruised wrist that she realized what he was doing.

“Are you licking my wounds?” she breathed.

He didn’t answer, but his eyes met hers with an intensity that bordered on madness. Gods, everything about this was so fucked up, and she didn’t dare examine too closely why she found it so incredibly arousing. He moved slowly, meticulously, his tongue gliding softly over every centimeter of her body, until she felt like a bomb, ready to detonate at the slightest spark. She came before he ever reached her cunt, and again as he rocked gently inside her, his lips soft against her mouth, silent tears spilling from the corners of her eyes to course down her temples.

After, he guided her into the shower, and when her legs gave out, he held her upright as the hot water washed over them. Once he’d massaged her entire body with his strong, soapy hands, he dried her off and laid her back on the bed while he spread bacta across the damage he’d inflicted. It was disorienting to be cared for so thoroughly by the man who’d spent the better part of four years making her life hell. He didn’t speak, and she didn’t know what to say, so in the end, she simply watched him in silence.

When he finished with the bacta, he retrieved their dinner from the dining room. The food had long since gone cold, but after hours of intense physical activity, they were famished, and they ate it anyway, sharing bites and sipping whiskey straight from the decanter. Neyo sat with his back against the headboard, his long, strong legs bracketing Reeda as she leaned back against his broad chest.

“How did you know porg was my favorite?” she asked.

He shrugged. “They’re tiny, cute, and innocent. I just assumed you would enjoy extinguishing the life from them and consuming their remains.”

She laughed and snuggled closer to him. “Is that why you order your meat rare? Because it’s the next best thing to drinking straight from the source?”

“Finally, someone who understands,” he smirked. “Truthfully, I overheard you tell Admiral Coburn that porg was your favorite during a banquet at the strategy conference at Valor.”

She turned to stare up at him. “Neyo, that was two years ago. That was before we ever…”

“I know,” he said, burying his face in her hair and breathing deeply.

“Stalker,” she murmured.

He dropped his mouth to her neck, and she tilted her head back against his shoulder as his lips glided across her skin. 

“What does it say about you that you like it?” he whispered when he reached her ear.

He pulled her close, positioning himself between her and the bedroom door. From the proprietary way he held her, she knew it was a deliberate choice; any threat that came through that door would have to go through him before it got to her, and she had a feeling that there weren’t many beings in the galaxy that were brave or foolish enough to try.

Reeda jerked awake to a furious pounding at the front door. Neyo was already halfway out of the bedroom, stark naked and armed with a steak knife from their midnight dinner.

“Wait here,” he ordered, his voice hard and flat.

She rolled her eyes as she pulled on a bathrobe and grabbed a blaster from her nightstand. Neyo glared at her when she joined him, but didn’t bother yelling at her.

“Coruscant guard! Open up,” a modulated voice shouted harshly from outside the door.

Neyo glanced questioningly at her, and she shrugged, hiding the blaster behind her robe. He stepped out of view of the door, and she opened it to find none other than Marshal Commander Fox, flanked by two Corrie ARC troopers.

“Commander,” she greeted him, not bothering to conceal the surprise in her voice.

“Good to see you’re in one piece, Admiral,” he said. “Are you all right?”

“I beg your pardon?” she asked, baffled.

“We received multiple calls about a disturbance at your address. Are you alone?”

Reeda felt a hot rush of blood wash over her face and neck. “I fail to see how that is any business of yours, Commander.”

“Sorry, sir, but it’s my duty to—” He stopped abruptly, and his visor shifted to a point behind her. 

“Isn’t this a little below your pay grade, Fox?” Neyo drawled close behind Reeda.

Fox’s visor turned back to Reeda, then to Neyo, and then back to Reeda again. The two ARC troopers appeared to be fascinated by the walls on either side of the front door. 

At last, Fox spoke. “I don’t send shinies to wake up admirals.”

Neyo’s hand slid possessively around the front of Reeda’s abdomen, and he pulled her against his nude body. Something large and solid prodded against her backside. Dank farrik, is he turned on right now? Sick bastard.

“Thank you for your concern,” she told Fox, “but everything is under control.”

“So I see,” Fox replied. “Still, you’ll need to keep the noise level down, or I’ll have no choice but to arrest you for disturbing the peace.”

Neyo reached forward silently and shut the door in Fox’s face, then he spun Reeda around, picked her up over his shoulder, and carried her back to the bedroom. The last thing Fox heard was the unmistakable sound of Neyo’s hand slapping her ass as Reeda shrieked with indignant laughter.

Republic Military HQ buzzed quietly with speculation the next morning when not one, but two of the most senior command staff called in sick for the first time in either of their careers. Rumors swirled: some were convinced a secret bioweapon had been released by Separatist holdouts; others maintained that the stress of dealing with politicians was beginning to take a toll; still others claimed that it was a coverup and that the marshal commander and the admiral had been taken hostage by pirates. It was whispered that Commander Fox had a particularly haunted expression that morning, and two of the Coruscant Guard ARC Troopers had contacted the legal department to update their wills. In the midst of all this, the beleaguered Lissi received a brusque order to inform RTL Matchmaking that the admiral no longer required their services.

Daria drained her third iced caf of the morning as she flicked through her holomessages. Buried amidst the intake forms and meeting invitations was an abrupt-bordering-on-rude note from Marshal Commander Neyo ordering her to close his file.

“Why do you look like the tooka that got the blue milk?” her fellow matchmaker Tarsi Renda asked as she passed Daria in the corridor.

“Oh, no reason,” Daria smiled. “The galaxy is back to normal, that’s all—and my track record is once again perfect.”

---

DJ’s masterlist | Join my tag list here

[hairmetal666]

Thinking about Robin getting so frustrated with Eddie and Steve's pining that she forces them into an empty room, says, "you're into each other, figure your shit out," and locks them inside. The last thing she sees are their bright red faces and averted gazes.

When they come out a few hours later, Robin very tactfully doesn't mention how they're covered in hickies and Steve's shirt is inside out.

[honeycreammilkshake]

there will be cake.

i finally finished my first fic, and it's greenflame! it takes place between possession and skybound. i spent a few days on it and i'm still not satisfied... it still feels a bit ooc and amateur to me, but please let me know what you think. here it is...

Sitting down for dinner with the other ninja, Kai had no intention of talking about anything serious, let alone marriage, and especially not how he should go about proposing to Lloyd. But picking at his bowl of chili, he looked around to his friends, watching them talk about their day with animated expressions and exaggerated hand gestures, observing Cole and Jay arguing about every detail of their training so they could trade insults while blushing whenever anyone (mostly Zane) pointed out just how closely they'd have to be watching each other to know such minor things about their routines. And when Kai glanced over to his sister she was already glancing his way with an exasperated smirk at Cole and Jay's antics.

The only absent one was Lloyd. The Green Ninja was training late, as usual, pushing himself to his limits. The perfectionism was at first a little annoying for Kai, who tended to take any show of exertion as a competition against him, but overtime he'd learned to accommodate his boyfriend, who was typically late to dinner or outings with the rest of them. The pressure Lloyd must have felt, every single day, to not only lead the rest of them but to also make his pretty much godly ancestors proud of him had been grinding on him even more as of late, and Kai didn't want to add to their young leader's troubles. Still though… after their last battle, almost losing Lloyd to possession had made him keenly aware of how fragile the normalcy of all their lives were.

At any time, they could find themselves under attack once more. Ninajo had a reputation for attracting the most dark-hearted, vengeant, and power-hungry of villains, and Kai had to wonder if there was some kind of sign posted out for all the tyrants coming to seize this particular place. Something massive and neon was advertising how siegable and conquerable this entire land was somewhere, he was sure.

But as a ninja, bound and entangled with all the rest of his team (a fate he would never want reversed or changed in any way), he knew he would lay down his life for any one of his friends if it ever came down to it. And, naturally, he knew in his heart that no matter how much he teased or gave Lloyd trouble, he would stand behind that completely unhinged god-in-training no matter what. Wherever Lloyd led him, he would follow. And it was because of this that he knew he had to make their relationship even more official, even more sacred, so that when villains like Morro or Chen or the rest came knocking again, Kai would know there was still a chance at a normal life, even a small part of it, in their own lives. That he could say that Lloyd was his in more way than one and come back home to that small piece of stability.

Now, watching his friends continue to taunt and push each other, a warm feeling suddenly overtook Kai, not unlike the sensation he got whenever he drank a nice cup of Wu's tea. He felt it blossom inside of him, a hot and protective surge that came whenever he thought of the others, especially Lloyd. He knew he could trust them completely, he could ask anything of them and they wouldn't treat him any differently for it.

So it was without any filter that he found himself asking, "Guys, if I were to hypothetically propose to someone… someone who's very uhm… career-driven and practically all-powerful, how would I go about asking them to do something absolutely ordinary like marriage?"

A small silence briefly overtook the table as the others, except for Cole who was still digging into his plate without interest in anything else, glanced around towards each other. Nya, on Kai's left side, was completely still all of a sudden and opposite him Zane and Jay exchanged looks.

Just as the stillness was starting to become unnerving, Zane, always practical, broke in, "Logically the best way would be to—"

"Oh my gosh, you guys," Jay all but shrieked. "Kai and Lloyd are going to get married!"

"Wait what????" Kai burst out, feeling his cheeks start to heat up. "I didn't say anything about—"

"Oh please," Jay scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You're the fire ninja, Kai, so whatever you're trying to cover up, you still burn holes right through it." He was picking at his bowl of chili delicately, like most of its contents offended him, and by the way he had complained about every other dish Cole had prepared for them, you would think it was genuine. But Kai knew the Blue Ninja would sneak lots of extra helpings of Cole's meals whenever he thought they weren't looking. And seeing as how most of Cole's food was… to put it plainly… bad, Kai knew it was because Jay was simply (and not so secretly) completely crazy for the Earth Master.

"You guys thought it was such a secret, but we could all tell what you were up to," Jay continued, matter of fact, then smirked. "The walls here are really thin, you know."

Kai groaned and buried his face in hands. "Okay," he sighed out. "So what if it is Lloyd?"

"I knew it!" Zane exclaimed from Cole's side, face lighting up. When the others looked to him, he explained, "Pixal told me they have a 95% compatibility rate. Lloyd's sensitivity and high emotional intelligence counterbalances Kai's hotheadedness and temper—"

"Yeah yeah we get it," Kai huffed, feeling called out.

"My vitals monitors indicate that your heart-rate speeds up whenever Lloyd appears," Zane added helpfully. "My data also suggests that Lloyd's libido increases whenever he watches you training."

Beside him, Nya made a choking sound. "Oh my god," she gasped, wiping away dribbles of water from her lips. "Please never say libido again, Zane."

Despite the embarrassment at having his secret relationship exposed so quickly, Kai couldn't help the way that information stroked his ego. All the time that little brat had been claiming to watch so closely to point out errors in Kai's form (as he always did) he was secretly checking Kai out shamelessly. It made him flush with more than a little contentment, but he got a hold of himself quickly, and managed to grit out, "Okay guys, that's enough."

"Where would they even get married though?" Jay pushed on, ignoring Kai entirely.

"Somewhere big enough for all of us," Zane pointed out. "I can compile a list of popular wedding locations and analyze them for suitability."

"No no," Jay dismissed, whipping his spoon around passionately so that a bit of chili hit Kai in the face. He wiped it off with a grimace as Jay continued to lecture Zane. "It should be somewhere perfect for the both of them..." Jay bit down on the handle of his spoon and then grinned widely at Kai. "I know just the place—my parent's junkyard!"

Kai blinked, caught off-guard. "Jay, I'm not marrying Lloyd in a junkyard—"

Across the table, Cole's face finally unfused from his plate long enough for him to shout, "Will there be cake? I'll definitely come if there's cake!"

"Always thinking with your stomach, right Cole?" Jay snarked. But the Earth Master chose to ignore him, much to Jay's disappointment.

As the others continued to conspire Lloyd and Kai's wedding, loudly describing each lavish detail — "Lloyd should wear all red so Kai can wear all green... and there should be dragons!!!" Jay contributed while Zane added, "Kai should put Lloyd in his lap and ride in on one to the ceremony" and Cole piped in, "And there should be triple stacked cake afterwards!" — Kai's ears picked up shuffled movement in the hallway. He sat up straight. Wu and Misako were out getting "vital" supplies like flavored tea and herbal medicines — old people errands — and they weren't expecting anyone else to come calling. It could only be Lloyd.

Getting that sensation he got whenever he was about to be cornered, he felt himself start to panic. "Guys, if you don't shut up now, I swear I'll send every single one of you to the Cursed Realm," Kai hissed out. "I don't even care if we're on the same team — you will all be banished for your crimes. This conversation is over."

But, of course, cause everything and everyone hated Kai, this was the exact conversation Lloyd chose just that moment to walk in on.

With a short glance around to the other ninja, he came into the room and a crushing silence followed as they all tracked him with their eyes. He walked casually, carrying a bowl laden with an excessive amount of Cole's chili (which wasn't that bad but it also wasn't that good either, so Kai felt Lloyd had filled it to the brim subconsciously) and settled down in his usual spot to the right of Kai, slowly lifting his spoon to his lips…. Lips that were twisted up in an unmistakable smirk, the one Kai knew and adored so well, that he loved to bite on — but right now, seeing the way it melted away the usual prim and proper princely beauty of Lloyd's face into the wild rawness of the conceded brat he really was, all Kai could think was Lloyd knows…. He's been listening in on the whole thing!

"What's all this about cake?" Lloyd asked, oh so innocently, as if he didn't know already, and Kai kind of wanted to manhandle him right then and there for being such an unyielding brat.

But before Kai could say or do anything to grab at any sort of control over the conversation, Jay leaned in closer to Lloyd, conspiratorially settling his chin into his cupped hand like he was about to tell the world's greatest secret. With a hauntingly straight face he said, "Only that Kai can't keep his eyes off yours."

… And then everything kind of blew up in Kai's face.

Nya and Zane burst out laughing and Cole let out a bellowing huff before slapping Jay across the back so hard the Blue Ninja's face almost landed in his uneaten bowl of chili (Kai wished with his whole heart that it really had). Jay glared briefly at Cole but then the Master of Earth said, "I guess that's why they call you the Master of Shocks! That was a good one, Jay."

Pure pride swelled the Master of Shocks' chest, making him look just like a puffed up little blue jay — which he technically was… though Kai could barely register the humor of it as sticky hot embarrassment exploded inside of him.

"Oh wow you guys," Nya finally managed to gasp as she held her sides, like she could fall apart from the delicious humiliation of it all. She wiped at her eyes, choking out, "Look at Lloyd's cheeks — they look like cherries!"

Lloyd's mouth was pressed together tightly, and his cheeks were definitely a deep scarlet that Kai took some satisfaction in seeing, but he knew his own cheeks were probably just as red and burning twice as hot.

And of course Jay would point that out. "Guys, check out Kai's face — he's burning up!"

"Oh the irony," Nya giggled.

"Red ninja indeed!" Zane chimed in with a grin that practically spilled off his face. And in that moment, Kai had never been more certain in his life that he was surrounded by traitors. Enemies.

Kai ground his teeth together and finally managed to squeeze out some sort of response. "You're all banished."

The other ninja, minus a cherry-colored Lloyd, started laughing again as Kai sat there, gripping the edge of the table and plotting revenge. Only Cole made any kind of move towards redemption, leaning closer to both Lloyd and Kai to say, "You know we're just teasing you two… We're really happy to see you making things more official. And just so you know, I would love to be there for you, even if there no's cake for me."

"You do know the whole point is so that Kai gets to keep the cake just for himself, don't you?" Jay smirked.

Before Kai could set fire to either himself or Jay, Cole turned to the Blue Ninja and smiled. "Don't worry, sparky, I'll make sure to claim a cake for myself too," he said, and proceeded to reach over so he could grope Jay's ass as the smaller ninja let out a high-pitched squeak.

"Who's the Master of Shock now?" Zane grinned as Jay started choking.

Nya pursed her lips and said, "Really? Right in front of my chili?"

Kai moaned and buried his face in his hands as the entire table descended into chaos. But it died out quickly as Lloyd stood up, his face unreadable, that silken smirk of his erased from his lips. As Kai peeked up at him, he couldn't help but feel… reverent. Lloyd was strong, and fierce, and brave. And more than that… he was the magnet that kept them gravitating to him, to their destiny. Their fates were inexplicably tied to his for the rest of their lives. They all shared a bond deeper than mere friends: they were each other's counterparts and focal points and homes.

And nobody was more at home with Lloyd than Kai.

"Kai," Lloyd began, and Kai felt the air rush out him as soon as Lloyd turned those ember-bright eyes right on his face. "Do… do you really want to marry me?"

Kai's heart was pounding far too fast. It felt like the adrenaline spark right before a battle. "Of course," he managed.

The other ninja were finally fully silent, their eyes wide and watchful. Feeling bold, Kai pushed away from the table and stood right in front of his boyfriend. Then he sank to his knees, his eyes never leaving Lloyd's, and swallowed. "You know that all of us are bound to you, and all of us would protect you with our lives, just as you would do for us. But the bond I share with you runs even deeper. I promised you that I would protect you, and that I would follow where you lead me, that you could always rely on me, so I would like to ask you now… Will you let me follow you forever? Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon, will you marry me?"

In all that time, Lloyd and Kai didn't look away from each other. The others remained blissfully quiet, but there was a current of anticipation coursing through the room.

It felt like an age before Lloyd cleared his throat and said, "Of course I will.... Someone has to keep my cake away from Cole, after all."

Kai groaned but found himself grinning anyways. "You're insufferable," he told Lloyd and pushed up from the floor.

"That only means you're even more perfect a match," Nya pointed out from Kai's side, but she hugged her brother tightly, patting him on the back. They both knew how much this meant to him...

Lloyd and Kai returned to their places at the table and tried to resume eating normally, but they kept glancing over to each other until Jay scoffed and said, "You two, honestly, go get a room."

"Quiet, sparky, you'll get yours soon," Cole winked and Jay started to protest.

"If you think I have any interest at all in a dusty piece of rock like you—"

"Yeah yeah," Cole waved him off. "Keep pretending, bluey."

Lloyd laughed and reached over to offer his hand for Kai to hold. Kai took it gently, and didn't miss the way everyone stared at their joined hands, their fingers twining together.

"No matter what comes in the future, we'll face it together," Lloyd promised Kai, and they felt each other's pulses jump at his words.

Kai nodded, soaking up the way the light hit the pale gold of Lloyd's hair, making it look just like a glowing halo. This boy would be the death of him, he just knew it. He couldn't help the smile spreading across his face. He raised a spoonful of chili towards Zane, Cole, and Jay and gave his best unhinged grin. "The future looks bright for you and me both, but right now I say we take these three down for being so obnoxious," he suggested and Lloyd grinned too, wild and full of fire, just like Kai.

"What?" Zane sputtered. "I didn't do anything!"

"Wait!" Jay cried out. "But we helped you propose to him, Kai!"

Lloyd snorted while Kai rolled his eyes. "Sure you did," the Master of Fire said, then launched the first spoonful at Jay's surprised face.

"Food fight!!!" Nya cried, pounding her fist on the table before she upended her entire plate on Kai's head.

Kai gasped, shaking sticky shrimp out of his hair. Reaching up, he felt the clingy, pasty sauce of the dish matting his once-immaculate spikes, and he shrieked, "GET HER, LLOYD!"

With a roar, the table fell into chaos again. As the ninja threw handfuls of food at each other — except for Cole who sat there lamenting the waste of it all — Lloyd and Kai looked at each other and smiled. Everything that they had ever done, all that they had ever faced and clawed their way through, had been worth it for moments just like this. With a laugh, Kai leaned in and kissed Lloyd in front of everyone, not even caring to keep anything concealed anymore.

He didn't even care when Nya shouted, "Gross!" and splashed the rest of her water on them. With a smirk, he pulled Lloyd closer and set a palm to the boy's back to dry out his clothes.

"You know," Zane said afterwards, as everyone settled down. "Someone has to clean all this up before Master Wu returns."

"Not me!" Jay was the first shout.

"We will," Lloyd said calmly, volunteering an unwilling Kai before he could protest. "We started this after all."

"They had it coming," Kai argued but stopped when Lloyd cast him a sharp look.

"You said you'd follow wherever I lead," Lloyd reminded Kai, then smirked his signature smirk when Kai let out yet another groan.

"Alright then," Kai sighed. "Lead me to the dishes."

"Get used to this," Jay said smugly. "This is going to be married life for you from now on."

Cole stood up from his seat and brought the rest of his plate down, shrimp-first, on Jay's head. "And this is going to be married life with me," he promised the Master of Lightning and walked away smiling.

"Welcome to the family," Nya said to Lloyd before standing up from the table.

"Can't be crazier than my family," Lloyd called after her, then turned to Lloyd. "Well, let's get cleaning."

Kai sighed melodramatically but didn't complain. He had promised to follow Lloyd wherever he lead him, even if it was just to another mess to clean up. So he smiled as he knelt down to pick up pieces of dinner from the floor with Lloyd. He wouldn't have traded it for anything else.

[guangshi-091305]

For the danmei fanfic nightclub please may I request some modern au Wangxian workplace shenanigans. Where Lan Wangji is just trying to get the job done and Wei Wuxian is a shameless flirt ♡

I aim to please (hopefully) :D

Cooking is Love made Edible (or is it?) - 6.4k Words - Rated T

Summary:

“Wei-xiansheng, please don't,” Jingyi – the Finance intern – begged. “Now if it isn't my favourite intern! I see you’re jealous of me bestowing Lan Zhan with my affections. So for once, I’ll let you have the first taste!”

In which everyone works in the same company, privacy is but a myth and idiocy is in abundance. Feat. Finance Manager Lan Wangji and the bane of his existence, Marketing Manager Wei Wuxian.

Or as my friend summarized the office environment:

Everyone trying to escape Wei Wuxian's life And being sucked in anyway

Fic under the cut!

“Lan Zhan! Lan-gege! Oh wait, you have an older brother, so I guess you’re Er-gege! Lan-er-gege! Look at me look at me!” Wei Ying, the Marketing manager flailed around his desk as if he had nothing better to do. He probably didn't, having charmed all his coworkers into waiting on him hand and foot.

“Work hours are not the time to be messing around,” Lan Wangji muttered, loud enough for Wei Ying to hear. The manager ignored him in favour of pulling out a suspicious-looking container from his bag.

“Look what I made you! It's gingerbread cookies because CEO Lan once spoke about how you liked them. I even sprinkled them with icing sugar just the way you like it!” 

All around him, Lan Wangji heard his subordinates groan. As a finance manager, Lan Wangji delighted in his limited day-to-day human interaction. He knew his subordinates shared the same ideals because the first time Wei Ying strode into that room to introduce himself loudly, one of his employees was startled so badly he fainted.

Lan Wangji didn't like stereotyping, but for once he wished Wei Ying paid attention to the tense atmosphere and forced civility between their departments. After all, it was a well-known fact that the Marketing and Finance departments rarely got along despite their collaboration being the thing that kept firms going.

“Aren't you going to try it, Er-gege? Don't worry about being polite, I made enough for everyone!” 

More groans were heard as the accountants and auditors began shuffling around, trying to escape Wei Ying’s murderous cooking. It was no secret in the firm that Wei Ying had no cooking skills whatsoever; the man was talented in the art of ruining things so badly that rumours about him making the company’s microwave explode ran rampant. The Finance department was in agreement that Wei Ying was sent by Marketing to put an end to their rivalry by means of murder. Meng Yao’s cunning smile every time one of them looked nauseous post-Wei Ying was all the more reason for them to tread carefully.

Lan Wangji would've put an end to the gossip mill if he hadn't been the first to fall victim to Wei Ying’s bad cooking attempts. Many in the office wondered if Wei Ying lacked self-awareness or if he was sadistic and thrived on others’ pain. Some even bet that he was a mafia enforcer in his previous life. But regardless of everything, Wei Ying would always come bearing some culinary nightmare or another on payday. No one knew why he just wouldn't stop, and frankly, Lan Wangji had stopped racking his brain over that mystery too.

Read the rest of the fic here!

Edit: This was supposed to be a oneshot but I got the sudden urge to post the vandalizing incident and the beginning of the end (cooking fiasco's humble beginnings)... so now there's two drabbles which I posted as chapter 2... have fun ig

[goldthorn-archive]

Emma!Clegan au

“John Clarence Egan, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; and had lived nearly twenty-four years in the world with very little to distress or vex him.”

Well, his brother-in-law, Mr. Cleven, does vex him. Constantly. And Mr. Cleven? Well, Mr. Cleven should like to see John in love.

(title tbd)

[waitineedaname]

i love jiang cheng because you know, he's this great sect leader, the badass sandu shengshou, serves cunt in every scene he's in, etc etc., but he's also -- and I cannot emphasize this enough -- a fucking loser

[crimeronan]

Hunter after just one night of Amity and Luz constantly checking on each other's bedroom: OK so Luz's safety obviously requires us to use the bedroom she slept in last night as a decoy with an illusion of Luz and everything, and oh I guess that leaves us with just one viable bedroom...

SNORT. i was just thinking he'd grumpily throw pillows at both of them like "are both of you gonna wake me up again??? or will you stop being stupid and just share the damn bed." hunter currently exists in a position of enormous privilege called I Have Never Been Physically Attracted To Either Of You that makes him Extremely unsympathetic to amity and luz's respective bed-sharing hangups.

framing it as a luz safety thing IS hilarious though.

[melliejellybellybean]

A Match Made in a Classroom

Hunter/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k, whoops...

Warnings: none

It's parent teacher conference night for Omega!

Hunter hates it. While he usually dodges the responsibility, letting one of his brothers take his place, there is no one to save him this time.

You love parent teacher conferences. You love getting to meet the families who influence the children you spend your days with, and this time you just might meet someone special.

Omega has a plan. Her, her siblings, and Cid have devised a foolproof mission that she cannot wait to set in motion.

Hunter could endure all sorts of tortures. He had to, as a soldier, and with his heightened senses, a lot of mundane things could be considered torture. Yet, here he was, facing what was likely to be the death of him. There was no rescue waiting for him, no escape from the pain he’d experience in just a few short minutes. As he was led into the bleak building, he glanced at the sun for what would probably be the last time.

“Hunter, you have to stop being so dramatic.” Omega glared after Hunter sighed for the seventh time in the past two minutes. “My teacher is very nice. You’re not going to die in there.”

“Why couldn’t Tech do this?” Hunter grumbled, “Tech always comes to these things.”

“You already know the answer to that.” Omega reminded him.

He grimaced as he remembered Tech’s adamant claims that he could not separate from the Marauder for as much as two minutes for risk of “the ship exploding, leaving us stranded with no means of making an income, Hunter. With no income, we would have no way of replenishing our food supply or other needs. Is that what you want? Do you want to starve?”

Hunter had wanted to share a few choice words with Tech then, and even more now, but he settled for grumbling once more. “Stupid explosive power couplings.”

“It’ll be fun!” Omega tried for optimism, “You can finally see the super secret project I’ve been working on for the past two weeks!”

Hunter let up on his sulking a bit when he saw her bright smile. Ever since taking on Omega, he had felt wildly out of his depth. Good soldiers did not equate to good fathers, or father figures in his case. Even after a couple of years, Hunter continued to bumble through new situations and problems, making countless mistakes along the way. He had just started to feel like he had some sort of handle on raising her when Cid started this long chain of events that would lead to his current suffering.

…

“You’ve gotta enroll that kid in a school.” She shrugged one afternoon as she passed by Hunter.

“What?” Hunter suddenly twisted on the stool he’d been sitting on, nearly falling off.

Cid didn’t stop walking. “She’s gonna need to do basic math or something soon. The longer you wait, the more suspicious it gets.”

At the time, Hunter had shrugged it off. Cid was just being Cid: sticking her nose in places where it didn’t belong. However, it seemed she shared her unwanted opinion with more people than he had thought. A few days later, Echo casually slid into the seat across from Hunter in the booth where he’d been sitting.

“You know, I’ve been thinking and asking around. Apparently, there’s a pretty good school not too far from here. Walking distance.” Hunter raised one eyebrow, but Echo continued before he could interrupt. “Think about it. Every other kid Omega’s age is going to school right now. I don’t think it’s ‘low-profile’ for a kid to hang out in Cid’s parlor with a bunch of suspicious-looking men everyday. Not to mention, she’ll learn a lot.”

“She’s already learning a lot.” Hunter argued, “We’re teaching her. Some kids are homeschooled, that’s not completely rare.”

Echo wrinkled his nose, “I don’t think ship classes and modifications are standard curriculum.”

“Well, you can argue with Tech about that.” Hunter smirked, “Good luck getting him to admit that.”

“I actually agree with Echo.” Tech voice sounded from above. Hunter looked up to see his goggled brother peering over the side of the booth where he had evidently been eavesdropping. “Sending Omega to a primary school could be beneficial for both her and us.”

Tech took the stunned silence of his brothers as a chance to scramble out of his booth and shove himself next to Hunter. “Not only could a proper education lead to better opportunities for Omega in her future, but she could also gain social awareness from exposure to other adolescents.”

“Wish you’d gotten more of that.” Hunter muttered.

Tech adjusted his goggles, “The Kaminoans kept all of us separate from the regs in our early stages. It is hardly my fault my exceptional mind progressed at a rate faster than yours. I may have skipped past some social development, but we can all agree I’m better off for it.”

“Our point is,” Echo spoke up, “it could be better for Omega to be around other kids her age and learn from someone who is actually qualified to teach. We’re soldiers. We don’t know the first thing about teaching anything other than military strategy and maybe some basic math.”

Hunter sighed, “I get that, I do, but we can’t protect her there. What if she gets into some kind of trouble and we’re not there to help her?”

“What kind of trouble will she get into at school?” Echo argued, “Those kids are supervised, school isn’t a dangerous place.”

“Actually, there are significant statistics that indicate that violence in schools is more common than we would all like to think. It’s more likely to occur in larger cities on more populated planets, but Ord Mantell does not have a reputation as the safest location. In fact, a large movement has started in Coruscant protesting the lack of restrictions on–” Tech grunted when Echo kicked him under the table.

“Look,” Hunter relented, “I would love for Omega to have more friends her age, but it’s just not possible.”

“That’s not fair!” Wrecker’s booming voice made everyone jump. Somehow, the mountain of a man had snuck up on the group. “Omega deserves to have more friends. And she’s super smart! She’d love school! Aren’t we supposed to be giving her a normal life? You’re raising her like a Kaminoan!”

…

Somehow, Wrecker knew just what to say to make Hunter hurt. As much as he wanted to unkindly tell their brothers where they could stick their advice on his parenting style, his self-doubt combined with his resentment towards his own unfair upbringing caused his stubborn nature to crumble. Now, he stood next to Omega at her parent-teacher conference, trying to combat her contagious smile.

“Alright,” Hunter looked away to hide the grin that wanted to break on his face, “which one’s your classroom?”

Omega knew she had won. She grabbed her brother’s hand and all but ran to a classroom all the way at the end of the hall. The bulletin board outside the door was decorated to look like the inside of a generic classroom. A cartoonish cookie stood by the chalkboard and more, smaller cookies that had clearly been made by the students were scattered in the center. The top of the board read, “Come see how smart your cookies are!” Hunter smiled as he saw the googly-eyed cookie that had Omega’s name on it. It was a bit messy, but he thought it was the most perfect looking cookie in the galaxy.

Before Omega could knock on the door, it opened and a little Zabrak boy came out followed by his parents. “Alright Mr. and Mrs. Vint, thank you so much for coming. Your son has been such a pleasure to have in class. I’ll see you on Monday, Pev, have a nice weekend!”

Whatever response the family had, Hunter didn’t hear it. He was busy looking at what must’ve been the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Omega’s teacher stood in perfect poise, a small, patient smile on her lips. Her eyes were bright and full of energy and kindness. Hunter swore that the longer he looked into them he had more and more hope for the galaxy. Maybe if eyes that looked like that existed, there was good after all.

“Mr. Fett?” A voice broke Hunter’s trance. Blinking, he noticed that the smile on her face had slipped slightly in concern. How long had she been talking?

“I’m so sorry,” Hunter stammered, “what were you saying?”

Omega snorted, but her teacher just giggled. It was adorable, and it took all of Hunter’s discipline to pay attention to the words that came out of her gorgeous mouth, “I said it’s nice to finally meet you. Omega talks about her brothers all the time, but I think I hear of you most often.”

Slightly touched, Hunter glanced down at Omega. She met his soft gaze with a shrug and a weirdly mischievous grin. She was up to something. Immediately, the soft fuzzy feeling was replaced by suspicion, but before he could do more than narrow his eyes at his sister, the goddess of a woman spoke up again.

“Should we go in? I’m sure you’d love to see Omega’s progress.”

…

In your, admittedly not very long, teaching career, you have never experienced a parent-teacher conference quite like the first one that you had with Mr. Fett and Omega. He paid an almost scary amount of attention to every word you spoke and every move you made while Omega bounced her gaze between the two of you like she was watching a very intense dejarik match. However, you were a professional, so you took it in stride. Omega was an amazing student, always respectful and responsible so you didn’t have to worry about having any awkward conversations with parents who were convinced their “perfect angel” couldn’t possibly have hit that little girl with a textbook. He did, by the way, not that they believed you.

The only time you were able to break the weird tension away from whatever was going on with the Fett family was when you brought up Omega’s project. She had been practically vibrating in her chair as you started talking about it, and when you asked her to grab it from her desk, she shot out of her seat like a blaster charge. Before you or Mr. Fett could caution her from literally sprinting in the classroom, she tripped over the leg of a chair, falling hard to the ground.

“Omega!” Mr. Fett was out of his chair just as fast as her. You rushed just behind him, kneeling by Omega who was clutching at her knee.

“I’m sorry!” Omega sniffled, tears in her eyes, “I shouldn’t have run.”

Mr. Fett blinked, slightly shocked, but you cut in before he could say anything.

“It’s not your fault, Omega.” You soothed the girl, “It’s Mr. Chair’s fault. Between you and me, Mr. Chair is a bitter old man, he trips me almost once a week!”

Omega giggled through the tears that built in her eyes, “Really?”

“Really.” You nodded sagely before fixing your attention to her knee, “Let’s take a look at that.”

You coaxed her into showing you her badly scraped and bleeding knee. “Stars, Mr. Chair, look what you did to Omega!” You glared at the chair, then gasped dramatically, “How dare you say that! Apologize right now!” Smiling sheepishly at Omega, as if you were embarrassed for the chair, you whispered, “He said sorry.”

“That’s okay, Mr. Chair, I’m sure it was an accident.” Omega was a smart kid, so it meant the world to you that she played along with your ridiculous fantasy.

Mr. Fett finally spoke up, “That looks pretty nasty, kid, maybe we should go get it checked out.” When his eyes moved from Omega to you, your mouth suddenly went dry and your brain decided to cease functioning. His eyes were full of intense passion and care, for Omega you assumed, and despite his hard demeanor, you could see his gaze soften. It took an embarrassing amount of time to realize he was hinting at their departure from the conference, and by extension, you.

“Oh, right.” You stammered, trying desperately to regain your professionalism after ogling at Omega’s brother, “I think the nurse has left by now, but maybe I could call her and see if she’s not too far? Wait no, that’s not fair for her, I could probably track down a janitor to open the office. I think Ward is still here, he owes me a favor. If not, I’m pretty handy with a hairpin, the lock can’t be that hard to pick, right? I should not have said that!”

Mr. Fett chuckled and even more of your brain activity packed up its bags to leave the scene. “That’s alright, you couldn’t possibly be the worst influence on her life.”

You laughed. Way too loud. “I need to keep bandages in here.” You blurted again, unable to stop this trainwreck of an interaction.

“For when Mr. Chair is mean again.” He joked. The weird tension was back. Mr. Fett kept your gaze under lock and key and Omega, while still clearly in pain, looked like a kid on Life Day.

This time, he broke it, glancing down at Omega awkwardly. “We should probably get you to Tech so he can bandage that.”

“Yes!” You rushed to the door, opening it for them. “Not that I want you to leave, but that’s probably for the best. Because of Omega’s knee, not because I don’t like you or anything. Not that I don’t like you! Omega’s great and I’m sure you are too–”

“We understand.” Mr. Fett saved you from yourself with a smirk, before leaving out the door. Omega sent you one last big grin as she passed you.

You sighed against the doorway, watching the two figures walk down the hallway until they turned the corner and left your field of vision. Breaking out of your trance, you noticed Mrs. Tenfrir raising a judging eyebrow at you. Your face burned as you quickly retreated into the safety of your classroom. The whole PTA was going to hear about this now.

Three weeks after the eventful parent-teacher conference night, you stood at the school gates greeting the children coming to school for the day. Frowning, you looked at your watch. It’s not like Omega to be late. Everyday, or at least everyday for the past three weeks, Omega arrives at school exactly 15 minutes before the day starts. Everyday, or at least everyday for the past three weeks, she gives you a slightly mischievous smile as she runs past you into the building. Everyday, or at least everyday for the past three weeks, you look up to see the oldest Mr. Fett already staring at you before catching himself and walking back in the direction he came from. He thought he hid his blush, but you could always see it. It was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one, to see that Omega’s oldest brother had started bringing her to school. In the past, it had always been either Tech or Echo, both of which would always greet you warmly. However, their brother seemed to be content to admire you from a distance.

You weren’t stupid. As a younger teacher, there were plenty of single parents who flirted with you or, on some occasions, even boldly asked you out, but you always maintained a professional relationship with them. Yet, something was different about Mr. Fett. Maybe it was his dark and broody persona or the softness that he tried and failed to keep from showing through said persona, but you felt yourself looking forward to catching a glimpse of him every morning, exactly 15 minutes before the day started.

…

“Omega, we need to get going, you’re going to be late.” Hunter reminded his younger sister for the fifth time this morning.

Omega didn’t even pull her head out of the bush she was buried in, “I know, but I promise, this is the last one. Aha!”

Triumphantly, she held up a flower she had just wrestled from the ground, adding it to the growing bouquet in her other hand. Although it significantly slowed them down, Hunter found her determination to choose only “the most perfectly perfect-looking flowers for this mission” endearing.

“The only mission you should be focusing on is getting to school on time.” Hunter scolded, “If you’re late, you’re explaining yourself to your teacher.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to explain to her?” Omega teased, “Instead of just staring at her like normal?”

Hunter almost tripped over a rock. “I do not stare.”

“Do too.” Omega chided.

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“I’m watching to make sure you get in alright.” Hunter tried to maintain his dignity, but it was hard when he was arguing with a 13-year-old. Looking ahead, he was relieved to see that they were approaching the school gates.

Omega looked like she was going to continue arguing, but she cut herself off when she noticed you standing at the gates looking almost worried. Omega ran off, and upon seeing her, you smiled wide and called out. You were really pretty when you smiled. You were always pretty, in Hunter’s opinion, but whenever you smiled or laughed or joked with Omega, Hunter felt his heart skip several beats. He watched as Omega held out the flowers to you, presenting them in such a grand way, but then she whispered something in your ear and your eyebrows shot up. You looked at Hunter, a small blush spreading across your face as you took them, and Hunter felt his stomach drop. Sending Omega one last smile, you ushered her inside before approaching Hunter.

“Good morning, Mr. Fett,” you greeted him politely, “Thank you for the flowers.”

Hunter opened his eloquent mouth, “What?”

You giggled, raising an eyebrow, “Omega tells me that you picked these flowers for me?”

“Um, yes,” Hunter stammered, Omega’s antics finally making sense, “They just looked so beautiful, and so do you today, I mean, you look good most days–all days! You look nice all days, but today I just happened to be walking past all these flowers and I decided to get them… for you?”

“Well, thank you, again.” You started to turn away.

Don’t let her go! Hunter’s mind screamed at him. A voice blurted, “Would you want to get dinner sometime?” It took Hunter a second to realize that the voice was his own.

You froze, “Dinner?”

Hunter’s heart was pounding, “Yes.”

“With you?”

“Yes.”

“And no one else?”

“Yes.”

“Like a date?”

Hunter paused. He was too far deep now. If you hated him after this, he could always let his brothers handle all of Omega’s school events again. They’d probably be better at it anyways. “Yes?”

Silence fell between you both. Hunter’s eyes never left yours, but yours shifted around. He watched you ponder every angle of the decision you were about to make and, what felt like an eternity later, you locked your eyes back on his. “Yes.”

Hunter was sure he was dreaming. “Yes?”

“Yes.” You nodded, completely certain in your choice, “Does tomorrow night work? You could pick me up here around 6?”

“Yes.”

“Can you say anything other than ‘yes’?”

“Yes.” Hunter answered before he could think about it.

You laughed, “Well, I’ll see you then, Mr. Fett.”

“Please, call me Hunter.” He had meant to make it sound like a request, but it came out in a desperate beg.

“I have to go do my job, Hunter.” You teasingly chided and began to back away again, maintaining eye contact as long as you could. His name rolled off of your tongue like it was always meant to. Hunter never saw any particular beauty in his name, but the way it sounded coming from you made it seem like the most poetic word to be created.

For the next day and a half, Hunter was a mess. He tripped and fell down the ramp of the Marauder, he accidentally put salt in his coffee instead of sugar, he even mistook Gonky for a trash bin at some point. However, he wasn’t the only one acting odd. He caught Echo smirking to himself on more than one occasion. Tech kept bouncing between whispering to Omega and whispering to Cid, and Wrecker was being entirely too quiet.But none of that was on Hunter’s mind when he found himself sitting across from you at a restaurant. It was smaller, nice and quiet. He had heard Cid talking to AZI about it the other night, and it just turned out to be the perfect setting for this date.

“You clean up very nicely.” You broke the semi-awkward silence that had fallen since the two of you had been seated.

Hunter thought about how he had spent the better half of the day in the refresher preparing himself mentally and physically to meet you. He decided not to mention that. “You do too. I didn’t think you could have looked even more stunning, but I was wrong.” He practiced that line for almost 15 minutes.

You looked down at the table to hide your blush. Hunter could still see it, but he thought the gesture was cute. “Oh!” You snapped your head, eyes bright, “I almost forgot. I brought Omega’s project.”

“The one from the conference?” Hunter watched you root around in your bag until you pulled out a rolled up sheet of flimsy that looked like multiple smaller sheets hastily glued together.

“Yeah,” You started to unroll it, “The assignment was to make a family tree. Most kids just put mom, dad, brother, sister, maybe a tooka if they had one, but Omega was very determined to put every single one of her brothers.”

The paper was a mess. The family tree was less tree than it was a very, very long line, but it was filled, in Omega’s messy handwriting, of clone names. He saw Rex, Gregor, Cut and his family, and even some clones that she had only ever heard of like Fives, Wolffe, Waxer and Boil. There were even clones that Hunter had never met. And right in the middle, written the biggest, were five names: Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, Echo, and Crosshair. Hunter felt a lump begin to form in his throat. Omega had never known the Crosshair that the rest of them did. She only ever knew the man who ruthlessly chased them across the galaxy, trying to kill them, but she still thought of him as a brother. Enough to write his name on a family tree for a school assignment that would one day get lost, thrown away, or left behind. It was something so simple and insignificant, and it was going to make Hunter cry.

“She gave up her recess for three days straight to finish this project.” You spoke barely louder than a whisper. “I wanted to make sure you saw it since you couldn’t at the conference.”

Memories of the conference flooded Hunter’s mind. Admittedly, he hadn’t listened to what you were saying all that much, having been too focused on making sure he wasn’t actively drooling over you, but he recalled the way you soothed Omega.

“You’re really good with her.” Hunter cleared his throat to himself, “Sometimes I feel so out of my depth. Like I’m making a million and one mistakes and I can’t stop myself, but you do everything right with her.”

You blushed, just now realizing how closely he had actually watched you interact with his sister. “She’s an amazing kid, kind and selfless. I don’t think you realize how good of a job you’re actually doing with her. She couldn’t have a better brother.”

“Don’t let my other brothers hear that.” Hunter joked, trying to deflect the praise, “I would never have been able to calm her down like you did at the conference.”

“My mom used to do that.” You looked down at your lap, “Like Omega, I tended to think that I was responsible for things that were out of my control, and that’s how she helped me get past that. I always thought it was the funniest thing ever. Sometimes, I would purposefully hurt myself on things just to hear her scold them. She definitely knew when I did it on purpose, but I think it makes it all the more special that she would indulge me.”

You were pulled out of your memories by the sensation of something brushing your hand. Looking up, you saw that his hand had traveled across the table, his pinky brushing yours silently asking for permission. You turned your hand up, interlocking his fingers with yours.

Hunter opened his mouth, almost having to force the words out, “Can I kiss you?”

Your throat closed up, so all you could do was give a shy nod. The Kaminoans used to say that it took a team to raise an army. Hunter always felt that saying was a load of bantha droppings. What did they know about raising people with real thoughts and feelings? Now he realized they were sort of right. It took a team to raise a person, but most importantly, it took the right team. Not a team of the smartest doctors, most celebrated engineers, and ruthless bounty hunters, but a team of people who truly loved each other and worked together for each other’s benefit. As he started to lean into you and you to him, Hunter realized that maybe he wasn’t the wrong person to be raising Omega. Maybe he just wasn’t the only right person. Maybe he needed his brothers, and just maybe, he needed you. Hunter’s lips met yours and nothing had ever felt more right for him. And nothing would ever feel right again without you by his side. …

Omega came sprinting into Cid’s parlor. It was late, the only occupants of the room being Cid, her brothers, and AZI. They all looked at her in anticipation, waiting for her to relay information gathered from her stealth operation.

Beaming, she revealed the Mantell Mix she had been hiding behind her back. “Mission accomplished.”

A stunned silence fell for a beat, everyone processing that their work had paid off. Then the room erupted into cheers.

This fic is a gift for @miseries-mistress as a part of @cloneficgiftexchange‘s... clone fic gift exchange... (that sentence went a lot better in my head). Your dialogue prompt just screamed Hunter to me. I headcanon that he'd fall in love with someone after seeing them interact with Omega or Omega would love them before he did. I'm super excited to be able to post this for you to read, and I really hope you like it!

It was a lot of fun to participate in this fic exchange and write this. I have been looking for an excuse to start writing for the longest time and this exchange was the perfect opportunity! I am in love with the idea of Omega in a primary or elementary school, I think she'd be the best student to have. I also love the idea of Omega matchmaking all of her brothers. So, with those two ideas in mind, this fic was born! What was meant to be 800 words of Hunter being absolutely smitten with his daughter figure's teacher turned into 4k+ words of character analysis on him and Omega. Whoops. I hope yall enjoyed it!