#first game kids are still my favorite and nothing will change my mind

[witherby]

hello! great work so far :-) im getting into batfam myself and been loving the platonic/familial works you do w littlest wayne! was wondering if you'd ever do an teen y/n or just an older one? I'd love to see you tackle the idea of a robin y/n or jaybe just some angsty kid stuff,,,,,, hope you had a good new years!

-- :33Anon

I love angst with my whole heart and soul, and I'm happy to write it with a slightly older Reader. Hope you don't mind I've commandeered your prompt to showcase the ability you guys voted on.

This one's a long read so I'm splitting it up. This part is roughly 2400+ words.

The Littlest Wayne: Uncertain Home

(Part 1/2)

Masterlist is Here!

Uncle J'onn is looking at you curiously.

He's been doing that a lot, lately. When Daddy brings you to the Watchtower to be babysat so he can go save the world, one of his co-workers that they can afford to spare gets put in charge of keeping an eye on you. Usually it's Uncle Hal, but this time it's J'onn and he's in his natural form, which you don't mind. Green is your favorite color, and his whole body is green! He's nice and calm, and tells you lots of stories and plays any game you want, even if it's hard for him not to cheat and read your mind. He says it's instinct. You don't hold it against him because you still have fun.

Lately, though, when he talks to you, he tilts his head a bit. He usually does that when he can't understand something.

You wipe your face, checking for cookie crumbs. All clean. You search your shirt for any weird marks or stains. All clean. You scrunch your nose and puff out your cheeks, pouting.

"What's wrong, uncle J'onny?" You ask him. Daddy says the way to get honest answers from someone is just to be forthcoming (Dicky told you what forthcoming meant when you asked him later), so you are. "Did I do something wrong?"

That seems to snap his train of thought. J'onn shakes his head and goes back to sorting out the jigsaw puzzle pieces for you. You're good enough at this to do 100-piece puzzles, now, and when you get really stuck you don't even cry anymore!

"Nothing is wrong, Flittermouse," he says, watching you start putting the edges together first like Dami taught you. "You are simply...changing. Differences are not inherently wrong."

"What's inherably mean?"

"Inherently. It means instinctively, or something that is "set in stone." A rule that does not change. I am stating that change is not something that is always wrong. It's not a firm rule."

You pout and try to process all of that in your brain. It was a partial answer. Daddy says that means people might want to hide something from you.

"What's changing?" You ask him. "I got older a week ago. Is that what you mean? I'm four, now. Grandpappy says I'm getting so big and growed up. He says to not do that so fast. I dunno how, though. He's silly."

J'onn hums. His eyes look away from you as he considers what to say. You put one whole edge together before he speaks again.

"You know that I am not a human, correct?"

"Yeah, I know," you say. "I don't care. I love you. And auntie Diana. And uncle Clark. And uncle Barry. And —"

"Thank you," J'onn gently interrupts. "Do you also know that, sometimes, humans are born not entirely human? That sometimes they get special abilities?"

"Yeah, I know that," you repeat.

"I suspect that —" he cuts himself off, hesitates, then starts again. "Little one. You are showing signs of being one of those humans with special abilities."

"I am?" You ask. You perk up. "Can I fly?!"

You immediately abandon the puzzle and climb onto your chair, about to jump off of it to try and fly around, but J'onn catches you by the back of your shirt before you can hit the ground.

"You cannot."

"Aww...then I don't wanna be a megahuman," you complain, stomping your foot.

"Metahuman."

"Whatever."

"I am sorry," J'onn says, "I did not mean to upset you. I do think you are developing powers, however."

"Not fly powers?" You frown.

"No, not flight powers."

"Boring," you say, blowing raspberries. J'onn cracks a smile at your antics and you giggle. "Help me do the puzzle, please!"

"Alright," he relents, sorting more pieces for you. You're both quiet for a while, and you get the whole frame done before he speaks again.

"Little one. Do you know your father's rule about metahumans?"

"Yeah," you say, grinning, because you're a great listener. You pitch your voice down and make it scratchy. It's adorable in your four-year-old tone. "No metas in Gotham. I am Nighttime. Raaahhh."

J'onn huffs in amusement. "Right. He usually means what he says, does he not?"

"Yeah," you agree, "daddy is a bad liar. He lied and said he didn't eated the last cookie once, but he did eated it. Alfie was mad, 'cause it was for Dami, but Dami didn't care. He likes brownies more than cookies. I like brownies, too."

"I figured," J'onn says. He's not looking at you again. This time he's frowning.

"Do you want brownies?" You ask, figuring that was the issue. "I don't have any. I can ask for some when Daddy comes back. I'm good at sharing, 'cause I'm a good noodle, like Jay says."

"No, but thank you for offering to share. Jason is right, you are a good noodle."

You preen. "I know!"

J'onn drops the subject again and helps you complete the puzzle. You squint at every piece in concentration and politely ask him if he can dim the lights so you can work better. He complies, and after another hour and a half, you have a completed image on the table.

"Yay! We did it!"

The sounds of chatter and footsteps appear down the hall moments later, and you spring to your feet in delight.

"Hello!!!" You shout.

A chorus of "hello!" greets you in return from multiple heroes, and the rest of the Justice League files into the room one by one. They don't look too roughed up, so the mission wasn't very dangerous. That's good. You stand by the door and offer them hugs. Everyone complies, to your endless delight.

"Daddy!" You cheer when you see him, running and hugging Batman's legs. He scoops you into his arms and you grin and point at the table. "Uncle J'onny and I dided a whole puzzle! I didn't give up!"

"Good job, Mouse," Bruce says, reaching out to adjust the light. "You did it in the dark?"

"Yeah," you grin, kicking your feet. "Did you punch bad guys?"

"I did."

"Did you win?"

"Yes."

"Can we have ice cream?"

"Maybe after dinner." He carries you down the hall and towards his temporary quarters, the place he'll stay after a particularly tough mission when he can't make it home right away, and deposits you gently on the bed. "I have to debrief with everyone, and then we can pack up and go home."

"Okay, daddy," you say, already digging through the nightstand for a toy to play with. "I stay right here!"

"Good job," he says again, kissing the top of your head, and leaves you alone with a small wave.

--

The next time you need to be at the Watchtower, it's with Uncle Clark and Auntie Diana. The mission wasn't a super dangerous one, so they both got to stay behind and entertain you.

Today, you're a cashier at your world-famous grocery store. You have the best ingredients all over the world.

"Welcome to the groshy store, what do you want stranger?" You demand, getting into character. Clark looks mildly offended.

"Whoa, hello. That's a lot of 'tude for a paying customer," he says.

"You didn't buy nothing yet! Whataya want!"

"Uh. Some carrots please."

"All out."

Clark narrows his eyes at you. "Can you check in the back?"

You turn around. You turn back.

"All out. Whataya want!"

"You barely looked!" He insists.

"FRESH OUTTA CARROTS, BUB. WHATAYA WANT."

"Oh my goodness, now there's yelling. I think I need to speak to a manager."

"Okay!" You shuffle across the room and grab Diana's hand, leading her back to Clark. "This is the manager. Auntie, tell him all the carrots are gone. He can't have any."

Diana covers her mouth to stifle her laughter. "You heard them, stranger. There are no carrots here."

"Well, aside from the blatant nepotism, auntie, I think you're hiding the carrots from me," Clark huffs, crossing his arms. "I need them for my soup. Guess I'll go to the grocery store across town. I hear they're nicer."

"No," you gasp, "wait. Okay maybe I have one secret carrot. I go get it."

You leave their giggling forms and run over to the toy box that was set up for you on the watch tower, thrusting your hands inside to dig around. You squint your eyes, but all the bright colors are hard to distinguish properly. In the dark spaces, deeper into the box, is where you cast your focus. Instinctively, you follow the trail and close your hand around a plastic carrot. You lift your hand triumphantly.

"Okay, got it!" You cry, only to startle when you find both Clark and Diana kneeling beside your toy chest. Diana picks you up around the waist and takes several steps back, and Clark's eyes turn that funny shade of blue they do when he's using x-ray vision. "Umm, I gotted the carrot already. It's in my hand."

"Are you injured?" Diana asks you, expression deadly serious. You frown and shake your head. "You're certain? I could sense something in that box with you."

"No, I'm fine," you promise. Clark stands up and his eyes go back to normal. He shrugs, brows furrowed.

"There's nothing in there but toys."

"Yeah," you nod, "toys and dark spots."

Both heroes look at you. You squirm in Diana's hold shyly.

"Um, want to pay for the carrot?" You ask, holding it up. "It's only ten dollars. Orrr one lollipop." You whisper conspiratorially. "I can be bribed."

Diana and Clark exchange glances. Clark gingerly takes the carrot from you and puts it back in the toy box.

"Sold. Let's go to the kitchen and pick out which flavor you want."

You grin, forgetting about the game, and Diana puts you on the ground so you can follow excitedly after them. With a couple "pretty please's" and your lethal puppy dog eyes, you even manage to get two lollipops. You ask to be hoisted onto the counter so you can swing your feet as you enjoy the candy, and both heroes perch on either side of you.

It's quiet for a while. It feels like that weird, anticipatory quiet you felt with Uncle J'onny, but you don't know what for, so you wait for one of them to speak. You finish off one whole sucker and open the second one when it happens.

"Mouse?" Clark eventually asks, "can you explain what you meant about your toys? That there are dark spots in there?"

"Yeah," you say, "shadows. Dark spots. Light not touching."

"And you can...feel shadows?"

You hum, thinking it over. "Um...yes. Kind of."

Clark and Diana look at each other again. They're frowning. You frown.

"Can you tell us what you mean by that?" She asks.

"Um. I wanted the carrot, for uncle Clark," you say, "so he can buy it at my groshy store. And the dark spots showed me where it was, and I grabbed it."

"Did they also help you complete the jigsaw puzzle, when you were with J'onn?" Diana asks. "It was quite dark when we got back." You nod.

"Yeah. Easier to do in the dark. It's not cheating!" You blurt. "I didn't cheated!"

"Okay, ya' didn't cheat," Clark agrees, gently patting your back. There's a slight drawl in his words which usually shows up when he's stressed out. "We're just curious, is all, darlin'. Seems you've got a... A special talent, we can call it."

"It's a power. They're a metahuman, Kal," Diana says simply, "and you know Bruce's rule."

The rule? Which one? Always brushing your teeth before bedtime? Or maybe no sweets until you finish your dinner? Hmm, but you haven't had dinner yet. That doesn't make sense.

"No metas in Gotham. I'm very aware, Diana."

"Then you see the problem."

Oh. Now you think you know why uncle J'onny was upset that day.

"Now wait a minute," Clark says. He looks genuinely angry, which confuses you. Did they not like that you could ask the dark for help? They had superpowers, too. You figured they would be happy. "They're his kid."

You are. You're Daddy's little Flittermouse, scampering around and bringing joy. That's what everyone tells you. They love you.

"You've seen how hard he works to keep us out of Gotham," Diana says. "We can be trusted to babysit, but we can't enter the city? What does that tell you?"

"That's different. He's territorial, we all know that. He's not a monster, Diana. He would never hurt them —"

"I'm not saying he is. I'm not saying he would. But I am saying that he doesn't bend his own rules. He does not make exceptions."

Oh.

You sit almost numbly on the counter and watch Clark and Diana start to argue over your place in Gotham. Over your place at home.

You think about Daddy's rule about no metas in Gotham. You think about your new ability to interact with shadows.

Oh.

The lollipop tastes like ash on your tongue and the tips of your fingers feel like tv static. When you blink, your eyes sting as they well up with tears. You've been so good about not throwing fits, about not being a crybaby, about being as strong as your super cool daddy and brothers and grandpa.

But you can't call them that anymore, can you? They don't want metas in Gotham, and that's what you are, now. You can't live with your family anymore.

Large, fat tears roll down your cheeks and your bottom lip wobbles. You whimper and both Diana and Clark whip their heads around to look at you in shock.

"No, oh no, don't cry," Diana coos, "you don't need to worry. Your father isn't —"

You bat her hands away when she reaches for you and jump off the counter, running underneath Clark's cape. They don't catch on to what you're doing in time.

Clark practically rips it off and fans it on the floor, floating above it with wide eyes. Diana kneels next to the fabric and frantically pats it, searching for you.

But there's nothing. You've fled into the shadow Clark's body cast and allowed the darkness to swallow you.

[masonmontz]

hellooo everyone :) hope you like it

REMEMBER: english is not my first language

fluff and dad!mason word count: 1.9k

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

“Have you ever thought about when we will have kids?” Mason asked when you two were driving home after a game. 

“What?”

“I mean, don’t you think it’s the perfect time?”

Mason had been talking about kids for a while now and you realized that his obsession with the idea made you want kids too. You started to notice how he spent more time with the kids than with the adults at celebrations, the kids in the family had him as their favorite person and he played with any child he met on the street.

You know he's going to be an amazing dad.

“Y/N, you know I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I think it’s the perfect time ‘cause we’re young and we can sit with our baby everyday, running around, travel. I mean, it’s time.” 

“There’s nothing I can do to change your mind, uh?” 

“I’m sorry but no.” 

Tonight, after the game, as you waited for Mason next to Anouska, you watched her and Luke's children run over to Mason, who opened his arms for the kids to cuddle with. Luke, who was walking next to Mason, also smiled at the scene when he saw his friend so happy with them.

“How can he be so passionate about children?” Anouska asked you and you smiled at her. 

“Yeah, he’s so natural with kids.”

“I don’t know why you’re not pregnant yet.” She said and started walking towards her husband and Mason, leaving you behind. 

But the thing is: you think you are pregnant but are too scared to take a pregnancy test. For a few days now you've been feeling tired, very sleepy and the smell of Mason's perfume has started to bother you. But you love his perfume and that's why he uses it every day.

And of course, you still haven't told Mason yet, even though you know he'll love it if you're pregnant. 

He spends the rest of the way home talking random things about the game, happy to have played 90 minutes and also happy about the victory. 

As soon as you arrived home, Ace greeted the two of you, happy to no longer be home alone. You took off your sneakers and lay down on the living room couch while Mason went to the kitchen. Ace climbed onto the couch and came to you, laying his head on your stomach, something he's never done.

You froze.

Is there any chance…? Maybe it’s something you never noticed, but… in your stomach? Ace looked at you with those beautiful eyes and you melted for the dog, petting his head. 

“Do you think there's a baby here?” Ace just let out a slight groan and closed his eyes, then Mason came back from the kitchen with two bottles of water, and handed you one. Mason sat on the couch next to you and Ace stared at him, accepting his owner's affection.

“Hey buddy, what did you do while you were alone?” The dog leans his head against Mason's hand, closing his eyes once again. 

But something happened that had never happened before.

Mason leaned in to give you a kiss, running one hand over your shoulders and the other he ran over your belly to your waist, but when Ace saw Mason's hand on your stomach, he stood up and started barking in Mason's direction.

“Ace, what’s wrong?” Mason asked, and the dog was still barking and growling at him. As soon as Mason let go of you to see what was wrong with Ace, he stopped barking. “Do you think he is in any pain?”

You didn't want to tell Mason without being sure, but Ace's reaction made you believe you were pregnant. Maybe he was smelling it, dogs do that, don't they?

“Mase, maybe- let me try.” You grabbed Mason's hand and pulled him towards you, making him wrap his hand around your waist once again, then Ace started barking. 

“Dude, are you jealous of her?” Ace growled at Mason, but when you ran your hand through his fur, he calmed down. “I can’t believe it. Ace, do you know that I wanted a dog and not her? Why is she your favorite?

“Mase, I don’t think he’s jealous.” You spoke and stood up while Mason continued to sit on the couch. Ace laid down where you were sitting. “I think he's being protective.”

“What? I would never hurt you.”

“No, I know…” You took a deep breath. “I think I’m pregnant.”

Mason stood frozen as he absorbed the information. You looked at him and could clearly see his eyes filling with tears.

“You’re kidding.” Mason spoke with a trembling voice and you wanted to cry too, knowing that it's his dream to be a father but maybe you're not even pregnant. 

“I’m not sure, actually, but there is something different happening in my body and I know that for sure.” Mason stood up and Ace came to attention once again. 

“Babe, I'm so happy but I don't want to celebrate until we know for sure.” He wipes away a tear and you smile, walking over to him and hugging him. 

“I know this is your dream, sweetheart, but even if I’m not, we should start trying for a baby.” Mason squeezes you against him, but this time Ace just gets off the couch and walks to his own bed in the corner of the room. 

“I'm going to the pharmacy right now.” Mason said to you and took his keys and wallet. “You come with me?”

“I'll wait here, I'm nervous.” Mason came back and gave you a kiss, then he ran to the door. 

15 minutes later Mason was back with numerous pregnancy tests. Your hands were shaking and you could see he was nervous too, but as always, Mason was trying to reassure you, so he was trying not to show it.

“Read the instructions for me.” You asked as the two of you entered the bedroom bathroom. Ace went upstairs with you but laid down on the floor as he looked at you and Mason. It was as if he wanted to participate too.

Mason read all the information and refused to leave the bathroom while you were taking the tests, and even though you were embarrassed, you let him stay there. 

“We have to wait 5 minutes.” You walked over to Mason, who was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, and sat on his leg. “What if it is negative?” 

“So we're going to make a baby in the next twenty minutes.” 

“Twenty minutes? Is this what you can handle?” 

“What? I'm tired, I ran for 90 minutes.” Mason laughed, knowing you were messing with him. 

“You better get better if you want to get me pregnant.”

You continued talking, but time passed slowly. When the timer reached the 5 minutes you programmed, you and Mason looked at each other, not knowing what to do.

“Okay, I'll see the result.” Mason said and you both got up, you almost bit your nails out of nervousness. Mason walked to the sink and looked at the three tests you did, without saying anything.

“Babe, oh…” He said and you ran to him. “Oh my God, you are very pregnant.”

You looked at the three tests and saw the two lines in all of them. You gasped and looked at Mason, who had tears streaming down his face and a huge smile on his lips. 

“Mase…” 

You spent a few minutes hugging each other and even Ace joined in while the two of you were kneeling on the floor.

“We’re having a baby.” He filled your face with kisses. “We’re having a baby.” 

“We’re having a baby, I can’t believe it.” You wiped your own tears and heard Ace whimper next to you.

Mason approached the dog and petted him.

“You're going to take care of her, aren't you, buddy?” Ace looked at Mason as if he agreed and you smiled. 

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

The pregnancy flew by, you released the news after a few months on Instagram, as Mason wanted to tell everyone that he was going to be a dad. You told your family two months after finding out you were pregnant, because you wanted to make sure everything was okay before telling anyone else.

Summer was excited, but she was also jealous knowing that her favorite uncle was having a baby. Mila still didn't quite understand, so you and Mason needed to reassure Summer that she was still his favorite. Stacey, on the other side of the world, also celebrated when you told her via video call.

Mason couldn't stop telling everyone that your little girl would be home with you soon.

The birth was due at the end of December or beginning of January, so everyone came to Manchester for Christmas and New Year’s eve, as you couldn't travel many hours to London. Your family and his came and you thanked Mason for the big house he bought.

The end of the year festivities had passed and she still hadn't arrived.

Mason kindly asked his family not to stay until his birthday so you two could prepare for the baby's arrival. But you asked your mom and Debbie to stay to help you the first few days until you felt safe enough to be alone with her while Mason was at training or traveling.

On January 9th, you were already fed up. 

Your belly was huge, your back hurt, you walked slowly and could barely sleep. Mason tried to help you most of the time, stayed awake with you or tried to ease your pain. He trained early in the morning and in the afternoon he was at home with you, you went for a walk with your mother and mother-in-law for a bit but you soon came back as it was very cold outside.

Mason made dinner and you ate together, then the two of you went to watch while your mom and Debbie were in the kitchen talking. 

You didn't want to sleep before wishing Mason a happy birthday, but you were sleepy and there were still a few hours until midnight.

But things got weird when you felt discomfort in your stomach, then another, and another. 

“Mason, I think it’s time.” Mason jumped off the couch and started running, screaming around the house as he packed things for you. 

The next few hours were painful, you cried, screamed, but Mason never left your side. 

Around 2 am, she was born.

“She’s perfect.” You cried as you held her for the first time. Mason was sobbing next to you, you had never seen him cry like that and you were sure that little baby girl would have him in the palm of her hands.

“You were so strong, so brave, Y/N. Thank you so much.” He kissed your forehead, and ran his index finger across the cheek of the baby who was looking at you attentively. 

“Happy birthday, Mason.” You can finally wish after hours of pain. “I love you.”

“Thank you, babe.” He said. “That was the best birthday present I could have.” 

“You said you would choose her name.”

“Yes, but we can choose another one if you don't like it.”

“What name do you want?” 

“Annie. Annie Katherin Mount.”

“It’s perfect, Mason.” 

IF YOU WANT TO READ, this is the insta au about annie :)

[chiasaaa]

— mean it || part i

itoshi sae x f! reader

summary: loving someone as cruel as itoshi sae has to be the worst thing that ever happened to a hopeless romantic like you. years of pining over your childhood crush finally comes to an end, or does it?

warning: english is not my first language. apologies for any grammatical or spelling errors.

— when itoshi sae left japan, he not only left his family and a broken promise with his little brother. no, he left a person that carved a huge hole in his heart when he did so. who would have known that japan's pride and joy had fallen for your charm? certainly not you, because you have been vocal about your interest to the auburn-haired boy since you were six, and he never bothered reciprocating your feelings. whenever you ask him how he feels about you, he never answers and would very much rather deadpan instead. his one true love is football, and there is nothing that will stop him from reaching his dreams. he will do whatever it takes to become the greatest; shifting his dream from being the world's greatest striker to the world's greatest midfielder is proof of that dedication. he didn't care what he has to do to get there. sae will continue playing football even after his legs break.

it was something you admired greatly about him. it was natural for both of you to become friends when you've met, given that you share the same interest. at some point, you both also shared the same dream of becoming the world's best striker.

it seems like only one of you has reached such doors of opportunity as you were finally scouted by re al madrid's women's division as a striker—a centre forward to be specific. you were seventeen when you were scouted, and through the one year you've worked with re al, you have never once caught a glimpse of itoshi sae. even so, you didn't mind. you were there for your dream, not to catch up to sae. it was one of the things that he came to admire about you.

since he was a kid, he had always known about your childish feelings for him. at first, he thought it was annoying and considered cutting you off if you prove to be a hindrance. he tried to see just how far you'll go for him—to please him. however, when he realized that you don't use your feelings as a reason to excuse his bad behavior, he couldn't help but feel gravitated towards you. it began to scare him, how you suddenly have control over his actions and plagued his thoughts, so he left.

it wasn't until your match against wc barcha that your paths have decided to reunite you two. the championship game for nationals is today, and the same stadium was used for both men's and women's games. right after sae took a shower and freshened up, their team captain informed them that they will be watching the women's match. though, it wasn't needed. the fact that it's the championship game and their team is in the game for the first time in five years was enough for the reigning champions of the men's division to watch.

that was how he ended up sitting with the rest of his team at the very front of the stadium, eyes wide by the slightest inch at the sight of you standing proud within the starting lineup as the match began its opening ceremony.

you have certainly changed. your previous long raven hair now had streaks of auburn in them and seemed longer than ever. contrary to how you used to tie your hair in french braids, you now tie it securely in a single high ponytail. you have grown taller, though he still towers over your figure. your clean nails that you religiously took care of now had gel polish in them.

and most importantly, the hideous neon pink cleats you used to play with are now replaced by a powder blue shade—your favorite. he would be lying if he said it didn't bother him, knowing fully well that those neon pink cleats were a gift from him, but he fooled himself to think that your shoe size simply changed over time and you can't use them anymore.

still, why did you have to change the color if you once said that neon pink reminds you of him?

throughout the entire match, his eyes remained on you. the fact that you're playing in a completely different level now made him feel like he never knew who you were at all. you have exceeded most strikers already, even within the male's division. playing against guys your entire life proved advantageous in the pro league because it certainly shows when you're put up with the rest of the lukewarm idiots. they all seemed like headless chickens compared to you.

you were graceful, yet destructive. that addictive yet terrifying feeling began to creep in from behind again, and it made him feel nauseous. you're one terrifying being, with that way you're able to win over people's hearts so effortlessly.

"and re al's shooting star delivered the decisive goal! for the first time in five years, re al has reclaimed the throne as spain's champions!"

having both teams win called for a big celebration for the entire re al team. it didn't help sae when you were invited as the opening speaker for the party. throughout your speech, his eyes never left your figure. a sense of pride welled in his chest now that he sees you holding three golden trophies you've most definitely earned. it was proof of your hard work. you were madrid's shooting star—the one person they needed to finally win and snatch the crown back to represent spain in the international league.

it wasn't until the end of your speech that your eyes have finally spotted sae in the crowd, your breathe caught up in your throat the moment you realized it was him. leonardo luna even had to assist you down the stage, mainly due to your long evening gown, for you to finally snap back into reality.

he is here.

quite funny how you first had to win nationals just for you to get a glimpse of him. now that he really is in the same room as you, you don't know how to react anymore.

should you hug him? wait, he might not even remember you. maybe a hello would do and not scare him away. what if he doesn't remember you, though?

you've been thinking about it too much at the balcony with a glass of wine twirling between your fingers that you failed to notice how you accidentally manifested said man by your side.

"finally decided to show up, huh?"

it took you by surprise, feeling his gentle breath against your ear as he spoke. you jumped back in slight surprise, and it was thanks to his quick reflexes that he avoided an unwanted accident by catching the glass you just dropped. he hands it back to you with a slight chuckle, finding it amusing that behind the new you is the same clumsy girl he once played football with.

"sae," you utter in disbelief. "f-funny seeing you here."

"huh? you know i play for re al."

"really? couldn't have known! haha..."

then, it was awkwardly silent. you quietly sipped on your drink as you actively avoided his gaze, finding interest in the pitch black emptiness they call the sky.

"i was waiting for you." he finally said, breaking the silence like shattered glass. "i knew you could do it."

"it took awhile," you slowly relaxed into the conversation until you're comfortable enough to start talking about your journey—how you always had him in your thoughts whenever you train. he painfully reminded you of your silly antics as a child crushing over him. how you promised to him that you'll one day go down on one knee at the centre of the football stadium to ask for his hand in marriage.

you couldn't help but feel hopeful now that he's mentioned all of it in one night, finding that maybe itoshi sae isn't completely against the idea of being yours. what else could it mean, right? he was the first to approach and congratulate you for reaching this milestone. he was the first to strike up a conversation for the both of you to finally catch up. he was the first to stir the storytelling to the silly romances you both shared before.

the feeling only intensified when he asked you to ditch the party with him and go someplace instead, hiding your adventures into the mystery of the night.

maybe, just maybe, itoshi sae wants you just as much as you've been wanting him all these years.

[mewkwota]

HI there! <3 for the character ask:

Can you do Megaman X? Hes my favorite boi

And just like that we ended up going through all the main Mega Mans. (Sorry ZX and Advent sorry-sorry-sorry)

Send Me a Character

And I will tell you my:

First impression When was the first time I saw X? I believe it was this bootleg cartridge of 32-in-1 games, but he wasn't even in any of the games. (It was the X4 boxart being used for something else, o'course.)

Not knowing any context for this part of the series, I obviously didn't have much interest in X. His constant angy faces just made me think it was too hardcore for me, like DBZ-fandom-powerscaling-hoo-hah-hardcore. Those sorts of things turn me off easily.

I think OP things can be fun and cool (See: My child) but talking about it like it's a BDE contest is too much for me. I just Do Not Care.

It wouldn't be until I decided to look more into Rock's brother that I learned X had another side to him, on top of the DBZ-powerscaling-hoo-hah that people will still bring up for him (and Zero). This was mainly because I wanted to draw more of the Light family together, but I had no idea about X's personality.

So yeah, I see it now. He's such a sweetie, poor thing. Because of course we don't wanna talk about the other things X can express, it's always "just this one" or "just that one" in a totally good or totally bad context. I think X is interesting because of all of that, and it's simply that he acts so complicated, like a human.

That is the point, I think.

He tried so hard and for what, to die and have four kids on his own. Poor thing.

Impression now Nothing has changed. I'd like for him to take it easy, I know he can't.

Favorite moment There is this cute image of X playing with tiny figurines of enemies (I can't find it online, but it's in the Classic/X anthology thing from UDON) and he looks so bappy-happy. It makes me think he'd like to collect figurines, maybe even taking after Dr. Cain's own hobby.

Idea for a story We're going back to Xeno, my friends ahah! I had this ongoing story in my head where X invites KOS-MOS to a friendly outing, with the idea that it would help her soften up a little (it was also Shion's idea). Of course later on, what X doesn't realize is that this was something KOS-MOS was always able to do.

Stupid hijinks were supposed to ensue in the background.

Unpopular opinion I don't think I have anything unpopular to say. Whatever I have in mind puts me on one of the two butting-sides in discussing X's being.

Favorite relationship Please see the previous character in this series of Asks.

Favorite headcanon Aside from the thing about the figurines above, I think X could've gone through "Reploid" puberty, kinda like how Axl seemingly did between X7 and X8. His mentality definitely can mature so why not? In X1 his voice sounds so high, but now one of his boys got that voice.

He's just not as soft on others.

Oh yeah, and if he could sing it'd be like an old-school VOCALOID. (HAYATOM is totally YAMAHA, yes-no?)

[ladyazurith]

You mentioned in one post that you think one problem with the game is that it twists itself into pretzels to fit the various different narratives, even when it doesn't make sense for the characters. Can you talk more about that? (Because I totally agree.)

Very much so! It's really bothersome. The first thing is in the individual chapters they tend to act like the students don't know each other well outside their own dorms, almost like they're practical strangers who have never interacted before. When everything else points to the opposite. Take Chapter 5 for example. They try to act like Ace and Deuce have no idea who Epel is, yet in Ace's CR story, he clearly meets Epel during their sorting. Never mind how they behave during events. And in chapter 2 when Cater is with Yuu and the others scoping out possible targets, it's presented like he doesn't know most of them well, when he clearly knows *everyone*.

Then from there, it's how the characters act in their individual chapters. Chapter 1 is mostly okay in this regard. Events with Riddle happen quickly enough that him having a major change of heart and acting "normal" in material from then on isn't too jarring.

But moving on from there it's a trainwreck. The chapter's overblot victims/ antagonists can get a little bit of a pass, but even then it stretches things.

Like Ruggie for instance, he is very shrewd and isn't above taking advantage of a situation. But he's not evil, he very clearly cares a lot about his home, his grandmother, and the other kids who live in the area with him. The idea that the character we see in every other situation would cause serious harm to someone else over a game is kind of ludicrous. He could have very easily risked expulsion if things had gone too far, and then he wouldn't be in a position to help *anyone*. Leona is even kind of iffy to me. While Leona tends to go out of his way to appear uncaring/unmotivated/lazy, he's actually an incredibly good dorm leader who cares about his students. Most of his real issues are internal, and harming innocent people who aren't even part of his beef with Malleus just seems out of character to me. Never mind what he does to Ruggie. Some of it can be explained by the build up of blot but not all of it.

And then Chapter 3, Azul, Jade, and Floyd. For the most part, I can see the tweels going along with everything because they both thrive on chaos. But Azul's plan is just...stupid coming from someone who's a professional businessman. First off he has no shortage of workers for the lounge. Ruggie frequently takes shifts there, and Cater while not a waiter also does a lot of work with them. But the whole sea anemone thing was just gross. And apparently, there was nothing in the contract about not disparaging their employer. It might have caused a spike in business at first just because people want to see what's going on for themselves, but overall, he'd ultimately hurt his business and drive customers *away*. Never mind the whole bullying backstory comes out of NOWHERE. Like I do have sympathy for Azul and what he went through and he is one of my favorite characters, but Ch 3 suffered from poor writing in my opinion. Narratively the whole thing was a mess.

Chapter 4 is handled better in my opinion. For the most part, I have the least amount of complaints about what goes on here. My biggest one though is what I mentioned before, Characters tend to exist in a bubble during their chapter events. You can not tell me that Cater nor Lilia wouldn't have tried to figure out what the hell was going on with Kalim. Or Silver for that matter. Never mind how Kalim had the authority to keep his entire dorm at school over a holiday when it's shut down?!!? I get his family is rich and powerful but, that still seems like a stretch idk.

Jamil I think was a least handled well otherwise, his actions and motivations seemed consistent with his character. In the end, he didn't really want to harm anyone, he just wanted his freedom and was desperate. The only real question is what did he think was going to happen next? Even if Kalim got kicked out of NRC then he would have only had about a year and a half of 'freedom' it wouldn't have solved any of his problems. And if Kalim had turned up dead, there would have still been severe repercussions for him and his family. IDK for someone who is supposed to be good at planning and scheming there definitely were parts that weren't well thought-out.

Chapter 5 and Rook is where this conversation started I think but I'll touch on it again. His actions at the end of chapter 5 are COMPLETELY out of character for what we know about him otherwise. Hiding his obsession with Neige from Vil, and then revealing it IN FRONT OF him while he's still licking his wounds from his overblot is just...if this was the only context we had for Rook, no one would be calling them friends. He had no real reason to reveal he was the one that cost them the competition.

The reception to this was so bad that's why we have the start of chapter 6 where Vil gives his speech about professionalism and why he's okay with Rook and what he did. I don't believe the narrative that Vil wasn't hurt at all, not with how he's shown to be so insecure especially where Neige is concerned. Sure I might buy the part about Rook voting for NRC not hurting him, but not the rest of it.

Never mind otherwise Rook isn't cruel. Especially not to Vil, and his actions were just that.

This is also biased, but the fact that Cater was cut from the team, and the reasons why rub me the wrong way. I know that they just wanted Jamil and Kalim because they were the previous chapter's focal point and Ace and Deuce because they're tied to pretty much everything because of Yuu and the story. But Vil keeps talking about being a professional, admitted straight up that Cater's audition was *perfect* but brushed him off and passed him over anyway. (Also Ironic because Cater's VA actually is a musician/singer/ensemble group member and not a traditional VA) but that's off course of the question lol

Also, I will never not be salty that RSA won with their song/performance. All for the narrative. And THEN they gave us a shot at seeing some kind of revenge or at least a win over them after the VDC with Epel's hometown event and yet again WE STILL LOST. I don't understand that one either. It's just frustrating for the players to be put in that situation again needlessly. There was no real narrative/story reason we had to lose.

Chapter 6 we finally get away from the narrative that the characters can't know who each other are in the main story at least -_-;. overall I don't have too many issues with Chapter 6. (other than the mini games -_-) Idia's character is kept consistent. We get some fun moments from the cast, and for the most part its in line with what we know of them and their characters. Azul and Riddle are gold, Jamil needed to hear what Leona told them. (tho it was a little pot kettle but then again that meant that Leona knew what he was talking about). And over all things don't seem AS forced. Had hoped things were gonna get better.

Then Chapter 7 rolled around and they murdered Lilia's character. The character we knew would NEVER treat his family like that. He even gives Malleus a speech in Cater's Halloween SSR about how he'll always be there when he needs him. He's consistently been shown to value his family and connections. It was just such a drastic change I am still baffled. I understand why he would be leaving, but to not really talk to those around him or explain what's going on and make an effort to keep in touch and stay in their lives? It's absurd. Of course Silver and Malleus broke down, if in high school my dad basically told me he was dying and that he was going far away and I'd never see him again, I'd have lost it too, and I'm not nearly as close to my dad as they were to Lilia.

I know they needed something to trigger Malleus's overblot but again this just seems like poor writing to me. The idea of Lilia loosing his powers and possibly dying I think would have been enough if they'd framed it right to push Malleus over the edge. That's difficult /emotional enough and they wouldn't have had to completely destroy Lilia's characterization to make it work. They could have even had the scene with Silver and Malleus when SIlver breaks down crying in front of him after trying to stay strong in front of Lilia so as not to worry him.

I'm trying to reserve too much judgment until we see the entirety of chapter 7 but unless there is some unknown reason for Lilia to have chosen this method of leaving, I don't know how to really justify it.

I get sometimes characters have to make difficult choices it is what helps make a story interesting, but if those choices arise from conflict that's not framed well or meaningful, it loses its potency. It comes across like us as the players and the characters themselves being cheated.

[firstfirerebel]

𝑆𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟

Sumary: Lloyd is having a sleepover at the monastery of his father. Reader is close to Lloyd but struggles with the other ninjas

Pairing: Garmadon x reader (platonic), Lloyd x reader (mentioned crush)

Warnings: feeling outcasted, mention of past toxic friends, social problems, fluff

Readers gender/pronouns aren't stated, so read it as you ❤️

Standing in front of the monastery was harder than you first assumed. You weren't too keen on a sleepover with the ninjas. To everyone else, this would sound mad. A sleepover with THE ninjas! Others would kill to have that! It's just that you're not good in groups. You just always ended up being the outcast.

The poor friend that just swang along. Meanwhile, all the others were bffs.

Besides, you didn't even know the other ninjas. You were only close to Lloyd, and he wanted you to be there. After some of his puppy eyes, you accepted.

You were at the monastery before. You even knew Lloyds Father, but that didn't linger your fear. Maybe you could just turn around and go -

"Hey, (Y/n)! I'm glad you could make it!"Lloyd yelled of his window from his room and waved at you.

Great, no turning back now...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In Lloyds room, you unpacked your bag. The others were already there. Kai had his stuff in front of Lloyds bed. Zane was next to Lloyds bed. Jay and Cole slept across, but still near, of Kai. And Nya was next Zane.

You put your stuff in the left corner, near Lloyds bed. You unpacked your pillow and blanket on the small mattress that was prepared for you. The last detail was your favorite stuffed animal, Lloyd gifted it to you when you two were at a funfair together. (Imagine it as what you want, I personally imagined an Eeyore type of stuffed animal)

Your bag with your other stuff was at the end of your sleep area.

"Okay, then let's get downstairs!"Jay screeched like a little kid.

"F-For what?" You asked quietly, but they either didn't hear or ignored you.

As the others ran downstairs, Lloyd turned around. He noticed that you weren't coming along.

"Are you coming (Y/n)? We want to play some video games, " the blonde explained.

Forcing a smile upon your lips worked as you followed him quietly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay, guys. What shall we play?" Cole asked into the group.

"How abo-"

"Our Ninja Video Game!" Kai suggested, not noticing that he had interrupted you.

Since only four could play, the plan was to switch the consoles from time to time.

Lloyd, Kai, Jay and Zane were playing meanwhile Cole and Nya watched them.

You sat on the ground a little away from the others. You didn't get this game. But they seemed to love it. Maybe you could change the game later to something you actually liked to play.

"Oh no!" Kai whined as he got shot by the enemy.

"Yes! My turn!" Nya took the controller of her brother and started to play.

Jay got shot next so Cole got to play. As Zane was game over, you stood up to get the controller, but Jay was in your place faster.

"Ehm, isn't it my turn?" You asked, but they played that stupid game so loud they couldn't even hear you. No, all eyes were on the screen.

'Nothing will change. I'm just not cut out to be with others. I should just accept that.' With this thought, you silently left the living room and went to Lloyds room.

You saw how all the other sleeping areas were connected, except yours. It was away from the others. And that's how it was in real life. You didn't belong to them, they were a team and you? You were just someone who was friends with one of them.

As fast as you could, you packed your stuff back into your bag. Expect your stuffed animal. You needed to hug it now.

"(Y/n)? Shouldn't you be down with the others?" When you turned around, you saw Lloyds Father, Sensei Garmadon.

You kept quiet, hoping he'd go and mind his own business.

"You don't look good. Wanna have a tea?",

You didn't want to decline his nice offer, but on the other hand you wanted to get home as fast as possible.

"Come with me, you can tell me what's bothering you", with that he left Lloyds room and obviously intended you to follow him. You let out a sigh and took your plushie with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, what is it?"

"I don't know what you mean, Sensei. I'm fine", Carefully you took a small sip of your cup to see that it still was too hot to drink. Your stuffed animal was on your lap, so Garmadon didn't see it.

"If anything is fine, then why aren't you with the others?" A worried look was on his face.

"Ehm, I just don't like the game, so..." You felt how you slowly crumpled down. You already could feel the hot tears in your eyes. And Garmadon obviously knew that it was a lie.

"You know that you make my son verry happy, right? He loves to spend his afternoons with you, and when he's home, he never stops talking about you. I think you are what makes him feel normal sometimes. Lloyd would never do something to hurt you, so if this sleepover is a problem for you, I guarantee that he doesn't know it, "

"T-that's not it, Sensei. I also really like Lloyd, but bonding with others is really hard for me. I just can't do anything right! If I say my opinion, I'm rude. If I keep quiet, I'm too shy. And it goes on and on. I'm just tired of trying to win a war, I know I'll never win, " It felt good to finally say this out loud. You always had to keep it to yourself, so you wouldn't annoy somebody.

"And I don't even know the others. Lloyd is the one who made me come here in the first place. And now .... I don't know, I just want to go home, "

The elder let out a sigh and took a sip of his teacup before his attention was back on you.

"I won't force you to stay here just because you make my son happy. Making sure that you feel good is more important. If you aren't okay, you can't help anyone else. Alas, nothing will change if you keep hiding your emotions. Bottling up the bad feelings and forcing up a smile just for others will only make you sick. Both physical and emotional, "

As you slowly took a sip of the tea, you tasted a little bit of cherry and cinnamon and some herbals as well. It made you feel warm from the inside, or maybe his words caused this feeling?

"But won't that be intrusive?" You almost whispered. All your past friends said that you were a bad friend cause you wanted to get some advice, help or maybe just talk about it. On the other hand, they never bothered to tell you about their hard life and their problems...

"A true and loyal friend would never call you that. You have a special place in their heart, and friends always have their backs and can trust and rely on each other, "

So Lloyd was a true friend. He never expected you to play a role and just wanted you to be you. Sometimes, he was your reason to smile, and so were you his.

"Thanks, Sensei. This talk helped me a lot. It might take some time for me to make friends with others, but now I know what my worth is, " With that, you drank the rest of your tea, and at the same time, Lloyd came inside the room.

"I've been looking for you, (Y/n)! I'm sorry that we ignored you! It really wasn't our intention! It's just that - "

"It's okay, Lloyd. So! Wanna explain this nonsense making game to me?" You asked as you stood up and held your stuffed animal in your right hand.

"Sure!" With that, he took your left wrist and ran downstairs with you.

Garmadon just smiled at the two of you and drank another cup of his tea.

[zippidi-dooda]

So, years ago I was rewatching Cars and since the Bakugou brainrot was strong, I suddenly got the idea that "Hey, Lighting's a bit of a prick at first ... what if I made a story based off this movie with Bakugou as McQueen?" I was specifically looking at the scene where McQueen gets the white-wall tires, y'know his "suit change to impress Sally, and that one drawing someone made of Bakugou in a white suit occupied my brain and it solidified my "this is a good idea" thoughts (ps can't find that specific image no matter how I search it, but if I do I'll add it here sometime)

I had planned to take notes, rewatching the movie over and over to see what I could replace some scenes with since the characters for this story would be human racers and stuff.

Now, I never got around to it

But I took mental notes only writing the important things (what characters would best fit as who) and imagining scenes between Y/N and Bakugou (but not writing those down for some reason??? Still remember bits of some of them though) And wrote half of the first chapter

Here they are to finally see the light of day, (I'll explain why I wrote the characters as who if I remember why):

Summary

Life going was perfectly for the speed racer, Bakugou Katsuki. He had it all, the speed, the fame, the money, and was just one race away from becoming Japan's number one racer. But life seemed to have other plans in mind for him.

***

Speed.

That's what was always needed of Bakugou on the track. And Bakugoy always delivered. Today would be different though. 

He was speed.

He'd push it to the limit - no. Past the limit.

He would win this race and Deku would no longer be number one.

Deku . . . .

Man how he hated the curly haired, green eyed freak. Deku would never amount to nothing, all of those days Bakugou spent playing in the backyard with the kid, racing their remote control cars and playing video games taught him that.  

He never once lost to that loser and made sure to let Deku know that would never change. Ever. Bakugou would always be on top. Number one.

Boy did karma hit him hard.

"Dynamite! You gotta get out there already!"

"I fucking got it!"

Bakugou opened his red eyes, looking around his trailer. 

He was sitting on top of a cabinet with his eyes closed, waiting for show time.

Being alone in his trailer doing nothing was a ritual he always did before a race.

No reason why. He just did it.

The trailer had space for tools and such in case he needed to tune up his car on the go. But there were also shelves lined with his trophies from past races and merchandise featuring him or his car. A single picture waited for him on top of a small cabinet, which held snacks and an extra pair of clothes for him. A mini fridge was next to it holding drinks and such in case he got thirsty on a long drive.

Bakugou practically lived in the trailer. Always having to travel here and there to get to races. He sat in his car the whole time. It was a little cramped sure, but he preferred it to taking a plane, flying to his hotel, having to deal with paparazzi, possibly bumping into Deku or other competitors and having to talk to them.

Bakugou had a short fuse and often ran his mouth to the point rivals would try to fight him. And when that happened Hakamada would force him to have grade school lessons for manners and etiquette and all that to teach him how to "play nice."

That was useless. (And for some reason he was always forced to wear jeans and over-brush his hair?)

Katsuki Bakugou didn't need to be treated like a kid. So the trailer became his favorite place.

Through the tinted windows he could spot the extra from his pit crew who yelled walking away, past the other trucks. He rolled his eyes at them, he knew he could finish every race without a crew but it was required in order to race. So he (had to) let them stick around. They never got along, but it was fine by him since it meant no unnecessary interactions outside of the racecourse.

His manager, Hakamada, did chew him out for it saying he needed a good relationship with the team in order to get a better performance. But they did just fine now so there was no need to try with them.

Bakugou tightened his gloves, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then got ready to walk out the trailer door. He took a second to pick up the photo sitting on the cabinet. He looked at it for a second, memorizing again every detail on the piece of paper, his grip tightening before pressing a chaste kiss to it and tucking it into his chest pocket.

It was a good luck charm you could say. Never raced without it on him.

It was go time.

He was instantly blinded by flashing cameras clicking away, mics up in his face, people waving at him, and shouting - from both the reporters and the crowd.

"Mr. Dynamite!"

"YESSSSS!"

"DYNAMITE!"

"Over here!"

"Tulsa from Konto News, can I get a statement?"

"SIGN MY FOREHEAD!"

"Do you think you'll win this race?"

Bakugou held back a groan.

He always had to walk with a crowd of reporters towards his station. Still, he hadn't entirely warmed up to all the randos always in his face but he indulged them with some words.

"Sit down and watch the damn race for your answers."

"Mr. Dynamite, over here!"

"Dynamite, I'm with Dai Press-"

"I LOVE YOU DYNAMITE!"

"MARRY ME!"

He paused in his walk and addressed the people around him.

"All I have to say to you is, I'm gonna win. That is one sure thing you can get from this race so stick around."

They grew louder. Bakugou ignored them and continued walking until he heard one thing.

"You and Deku have been neck in neck since the start of your career, Dynamite, and you've only been first in the beginnings of every race. You've never actually ended any race in first. Never went home with a first place prize. How do you expect to come out on top today?"

Bakugou turned on his heels and scanned the people, "Who the hell said that?"

He wasn't sure and everyone continued speaking over one another. So, he yanked a random mic out of someone's hand.

"Deku's had his undeserved moment in the sun long enough. I can promise you this: his lucky streak ends with me. Got that? Put that in the papers."

Shoving the mic into whose ever hand, Bakugou continued to his spot, picking up the pace and blocking out everything else anyone had to say.

***

"Alright Dynamite, if you want to win this race for once you need to get your ass over here for a pit stop. Every time we call you over. Can you do that or are you enjoying eating greenies dust all the time."

Bakugou scowled at the extra handing him his helmet.

If they really wanted him to listen maybe they shouldn't be such assholes to him all the time. He wasn't the problem here.

"Fuck off extra, I don't need to stop for you losers every lap. You're just here freeloading off my success so sit down and shut the fuck up."

Bakugou snatched his helmet and shoved the guy out of his way. Right into another extra dressed in aquamarine. 

The two fell down, knocking over a dresser full of tools on the way. Tools were scattered all across the ground.

Bakugou couldn't be bothered to help.

He took a waterbottle from another extra's hand and took a big sip.

"What the fuck man!'

"My bad ... man ... I'll help clean this up."

"Get the hell out of here, I got it."

"What's going on here?"

Bakugou scowled at the last voice. 

It was Deku. And he had no business coming over to him like this. Every goddamn race. The two were always stationed next to each other meaning every pit stop and start and end of the race Bakugou had to see his rival's annoying face. 

And every chance they were near each other, Deku felt the need to say hello.

Idiot.

"Nothing just fell down."

"Is everyone okay?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it. I got this."

"Are you sure cause we can totally help out."

"Don't worry about it, it's our station we'll handle it."

"Get the fuck out of here Deku, you got stuff to do and so do we." Bakugou said.

"You're right, but I only came over for a second. Just to check up on you."

"I'm fine. Now leave. And keep pink cheeks out of here. I don't need her or anyone else distracting my crew, got it?"

"Got it."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make a mess," The short, brown haired, brown eyed girl walked over to him with a pen and paper in hand. "I just wanted to see if I could get an autograph. It's for my nephew, you're his favorite racer and it's his birthday next week so I thought it'd be a nice surprise for him."

Bakugou rolled his eyes before taking the page and getting ready to sign it. It had a crudely drawn image of himself besides a little boy, the girl's nephew he assumed, the both of them holding up a trophy as confetti rained down on them. 

Bakugou froze for a moment.

The picture, though ugly, warmed his heart. He knew he had fans but this drawing just showed that they believed he would win a race. And the fact that he had a fan that probably knew Deku, met with him face to face (there was no way the dumbass didn't like pink cheeks since she was always around him, so he probably went to her house once or twice) and they still picked him over the momentary number one . . . It made him feel good inside. 

Maybe one day he'd have a kid of his own and they could cheer for him too . . . .

He smirked and began to sign.

"What's the extras name?"

"Hiro."

"Tell him he's on the right team." Bakugou gave back the paper. "There you got what you came for now leave."

"Thank you so much. C'mon Deku."

The girl began to drag him away.

"Hold on, Uraraka. Kacchan . . . ?"

Bakugou frowned again. "What now?"

The boy's mouth opened and closed for a bit as he searched for the right words to say.

He held out his hand to him. "Good luck out there today."

Bakugou scoffed and slapped his hand away.

"You'll need the luck more than I do cause I'm gonna beat your ass this time."

Deku smiled a bit as he watched Bakugou walk away. He may not have said it the normal way but at least he'd told him good luck back for once.

Deku turned and walked back to his own car.

***

Notes

McQueen: Bakugou - main character, acts like him and their traits align, need that Life Could be a Dream scene to happen with him

Mater: Kiri - the best friend that will make him realize things, who else could fill thus roll, their energy would match well

Chick Hicks: Todoroki - he's not a hick and personalities don't match but he fits as a well known figure that Bakugou would hate yet want to race, Todo will remain calm and aloof and claim BK is his best friend

Dinoco: Midoriya - BK hates him and would also want to beat him as a racer so of course he's here, could be switched with Chick but since the Dinoco brand was a dominant figure/sponsor in Cars I imagine the brands they race for as the old Pro Hero's and the biggest retiring Pro is All Might and he trains MD so obviously it'd be the same in this universe and so Dinoco's Dad: All Might - for those reason's

Doc Hudson: Aizawa - the mentor figure, he does watch and help BK so I think it's fitting, their personalities and morals seem to align and they both stay away from the cameras so despite Jeanist also being a good choice here, I thought that AZ fits better (Jeanist ended up as BK's current/first sponser)

Sherrif: President Mic - (I was today years old when I realized it's Present Mic not President) since he also helps watch and guide these kids I think he could work this role, using police sirens would make sense considering his quirk, can't separate him and AZ

Army Dude: Shinsou - also one who can't be separated from AZ, not particularly a connection to the character but the Radiator Springs residents kinda seem like they don't like McQueen at first so they'd need to hate BK as well and Shinsou would be good at that, he can also cause some drama by being close with Y/N if so desired

Red: Eri - another who can't be separated from AZ, Red is shy and timid which can be applied to Eri especially since she may be scared upon seeing BK wreck the town as a first introduction, Red listens to Sally's requests which can apply as well

Filmore: Mineta - uhm, why? I honestly don't remember but he may be subject to change, Filmore is kinda another form of comic relief I think and Mineta can be useful to create certain situations, a reason to stir up protectivness in BK, and since Denki will be in here I'd like to put them in shared scenes since I think they're funny together

Guido & Luigi: Sero & Kaminari - need the BakuSquad here and I think it'd be interesting to have these two co-run a store, Guido and Luigi are interested in McQueen at first but then aren't (cause he's not a Ferrari) and Sero and Kaminari seem to have no trouble poking fun at BK so I think it could work

Flo: Ashido - again the BakuSquad, their personalities really seem to match, sassy confident Mina is a must and I think she'd run an amazing dinner, so fun, she would also be one of the only gal-pals for Y/N and vice-versa

Sally: Y/N - MC and love interest, I can make personalities match a bit and BK would need people that question and prod him, lots of liberties here

Granny: Y/N's grandma - honestly who else is this gonna be, loved this lady in Cars and would derive most dialogue and scenes using what was in the movie, could write scenes where Granny is no longer out of pocket and senile and gives serious advice and warnings to BK when they're alone (delivered through one line of dialogue and she's immediately back to appearing crazy as if nothing happened)

I never wrote anything about the flame sticker car Ramone and honestly don't know who could fit as him now, maybe I'll search for suitable characters or write up a specific one if I decide to continue this.

If you'd be interested in reading a story like this, feel free to tell me and I might pick this up again

And if you do want this, also share suggestions for who in mha can fill in for the role of Ramone

[abyss-strikas]

Alright so I didn’t REALLY complete the page for the IU boys, but I got lazy so have whatever I have (I’m referencing this post btw; also this post is very long cause of headcanons so that’s your warning)

As before, Skarra being annoyed with Dingaan wanting to hang out with him, while Dooma looks on, also annoyed but tired he deals with this everyday.

Next, something a bit more on the headcanon side involving Rookie Season. I think that when Automatic joined Invincible United, he still held some resentment towards Supa Strikas, especially towards Shakes, Dancing Rasta, and Coach. Shakes is more obvious since the kid took his place, but Auto hates the fact that his old captain didn’t do much to help him out, as well as Coach. He had hoped Coach could give him a new exercise regiment to help him get better, he would have even taken a harsh pep talk from him. But nothing came out of it, so whenever he sees Supa Strikas from time to time, he can’t help but remember those memories, memories that were once good now have become sour.

The Web tries to get his friend to take his mind off the other team, maybe inviting him to his place where they can play pool or even play board games. I do headcanon that Web was Automatic’s first friend in the team, maybe aside from Skarra who would have looked up to him when he still loved Supa Striks. Web had been the first teammate that Automatic opened up to, probably because the goalie had pointed out that Automatic seemed to fit better as a midfielder rather than a striker. If Coach or Rasta had let him try that position, maybe Auto wouldn’t be with IU, but he doesn’t think too much on it.

Snake on the other hand is there to help convince Auto to leave the Supa Strikas alone, even as he goes on about some of the stuff he seems to be fond of them. The reason is because I headcanon that Snake actually enjoyed having Shakes on the team when they did the Rookie Swap show. I felt like Snake and Shakes could have had a sibling type relationship, with Snake being the older brother that shows his love to his sibling by pranking him every time. I do think Snake is a bit jealous at how well Shakes gets along with Supa Strikas, and he envies that fact. He pretends to not care but in reality, he really does care a lot.

Finally, my two favorite boys from this team because I am such a basic bitch- /hj

The Power Twins! Whose names were confirmed by a concept artist of the show! Now, when this episode did come out, I was the one who asked that concept artist if they knew their actual names, and they found out their names were Stan and Norm!

Now being the naive fool I was back then (affectionate), I thought this meant their full real names were Stanley and Norman. But fast forward and another fan did suggest that what if their names were legitimately “Standard Power” and “Normal Power”?

Needless to say, I really should have thought of that before because the writers do like to make use of word puns as much as possible. After hearing that, I immediately went and changed some things of their backstory. Mainly the fact that Max Power (Maximum Power) is the eldest brother of the twins and he’s joined the Silver Lions, a group that their dad hates with a passion (for the most stupid of reasons), Max has changed his name to Liam, and their dad is an ego maniac who really cares about nothing more than his surname. These guys also have an elder sister by the name of Suzanne Power, who belongs to @yanxioustrikas . In this AU, she is three years younger than Max, but three years older than the twins, and she was formerly known as Minimum (Minnie) Power until the mom and dad divorced, and Suzanne went to live with her mom in South Korea.

With all of that in mind, when the twins returned to the UK after their twin switch plan failed, there was a lot of family drama that escalated to the twins almost getting hurt by their dad. Luckily, Liam and his friends were able to protect them. As the trial gets set up for the dad, since his big booming business in sales had some low-key shady stuff in their books, an old “friend” of Vince, a former player of the Silver Lions before they went on hiatus, asks the IU coach for a favor: take back the twins into the team, as they’re not fully safe in the UK at the moment.

Vince can’t turn down a request from this “friend”, so he signs the twins back up under their shortened names. No one in IU knows about their full names and their family history. Not yet at least.

So for now, the way to differentiate between the twins is the fact that Stan has gotten piercings on his nose and ears, something his dad wasn’t too keen on in the first place. Norm still looks the same but he and his brother have chosen to not conceal their freckles, nor the shadows under their eyes from the restless nights they spent trying to deal with their crazy dad. They still play their best, even if they have to switch for the first couple of games they’re back, but their attitude and demeanor has changed because of the events they’ve gone through. They’re not looking forward to going back to London for the trial, but they’re hoping they can convince a certain striker and defender to join them as support, especially when they decide to change their names, just like their older brother and sister did.

—————

I’ll start another page at some point and draw the rest that didn’t make it, lol. I know this was a bit more headcanon heavy, but let me know if you guys have any questions or you want to share your own headcanons too!

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Of Honeysuckle and Haiku [Tech x Fem!Reader]

Warnings and Information: This is my submission for an event hosted by the wonderful @cloneficgiftexchange, written for @apocalyp-tech-a. I hope you enjoy my first Tech x Reader! 2nd Person POV, undescribed Fem!Reader who works as an analyst/researcher for the GAR. Minor AU changes (no missing and/or dead Clones here (but Echo is still part of CF99)!). Prompt sentence/s will be orange to keep in line with the color scheme of the graphics. Tech has a “secret” crush on Reader that she knows about. Flirting is stored in the info-dumping/poetry. Star Wars and real-world swearing is as naughty as it gets. Some Mando’a. Brief references and allusions to injury and other canon-typical violence, and a small flashback where Reader’s senior colleagues are (implied to be) behaving like jerks to Tech, but nothing explicit. Use of stylistic and narrative italics. Fictional flowers. 

Prompt: Can't we ever go to a nice place? | Oh, that's what that button does.

Word-count: 8,270

Another Primeday, another pile of notes in your locker. 

That's how the weeks always started. 

You worked closely with the Grand Army of the Republic as something of an analyst and unofficial bookkeeper, going on for two years now. Colleagues and work-friends would slip scraps of flimsiplast in the ventilation grooves of your locker as a way of non-electronic communication.

The old fashioned way, older department heads joked. 

The flimsi stacks contained a mishmash of written comms. Inside jokes. Recipe trades. Reminders to get CT-6922’s helmet serviced for the video feed you needed for Jais in the Reverse-Engineering Department if they're ever going to find out how that new Separatist spider droid worked. 

And a poem, written in spidery Aurebesh lettering from your “secret admirer”. Always the top of the pile that collected at the bottom of your locker. 

You knew full well who it was after a while, piecing together all the clues he'd strung along for you. Game recognizes game, as they say. It took cracking a complicated cipher in order to- 

Nah, who are you kidding? 

You got impatient and asked Jais in R.E.D. to help you with scrubbing the security footage for the last person to stop by your locker one morning, finding a haiku waiting for you. A haiku regarding subject matter you had just been discussing with a colleague the other day who had a grueling day of carefully dissecting a Flame Beetle from Kashyyyk ahead of them, and you were slated to assist them. 

The shimmering shell  That conceals a beetle’s wing Is called elytra  - I wish I was a beetle 

Mild alarm that someone was messing with you turned to curiosity soon after; it had been Tech of Clone Force 99 who dropped the poem into your locker some weeks ago. 

He'd been helping the analysts while he got his leg in working order, having broken both the tibia and fibula of his left leg in a skirmish. (That's about as much as you knew at the time.) Tech would be returning to fieldwork sooner than later; between check-ups and some physical therapy work, the genius and navigator of CF99 kept himself busy here, so he would still feel useful to the GAR while recovering. 

Of all the analysts Tech assisted, you seemed to be his favorite given that you actually liked letting him help you, and didn't saddle him with a dull day of deskwork like some of the senior analysts who wanted him out of their hair. 

You felt it was incredibly unfair to Tech, but there was nothing you could say to change their minds. You'd tried. 

Instead of reading this week's new stack of flimsi notes from your weekend off at your locker, you decide you'll read them at your desk for a change. The smell of Tech’s typical caf blend is particularly inviting this morning. It’s been raining since last week, this morning the hardest yet. Thank the Maker you had a rain repeller in proper working order for the walk to the research center from the speeder cabs. 

“Good morning, Tech.” 

Sitting down, from around the other side of the desk, you can see he's in a walking boot now. An improvement from when you last saw him just two short days ago. 

“Hey, that's a good sign! Think you'll be back with the rest of the Bad Batch soon?” 

You take no offense when his eyes do not lift from the screen of his datapad. “Good morning. I suppose, yes…” He doesn't sound entirely enthusiastic like one might've expected, but you have enough of a grasp on his mannerisms by now to know that Tech is eager to return to his brothers in due time. 

You've met the rest of his squad on a handful of occasions as they've come to check on him, making sure he's not missing all the action by keeping him up to speed on their exploits. 

Smiling, you slide a cup of caf you believe to be Tech’s closer to him as you leaf through the notes from your locker. 

“Don't let your caf get cold.” 

The datapad drops away. “That is for you,” he explains, “if you desire to try it, that is. I recalled you expressing interest in the last blend of caf I brought in, saying that it smelled good last Taungsday.” 

You blink, surprised he remembered those details. Well, not that surprised; you understood Tech had a remarkable memory that allowed him to recall obscure details. It’s saved you from a few headaches, like that same Taungsday when a visiting representative from Glee Anslem insisted upon having the innocuous bouquet of Nabooian Honeysuckles sent off for allergen testing. Whatever it was that provoked the Nautolan’s (thankfully minor) allergic reaction, it was not the flowers, though they were refused return. 

Shame… the delicate white, orange and cream blossoms were such a thoughtful gift from Senator Amidala to the visiting representative and now they look so out of place on your desk, still in the elaborate ceramic vase they came in. You’re going to need to find a way to return it to Ms. Amidala once the flowers have shriveled and lost all their silky petals. 

Thanking Tech for the thoughtfulness behind brewing you a cup of caf, you give it a careful taste and find the flavor far more robust than the instant mix the breakroom keeps on hand while you read the first of the notes. (Looked to be a heads-up that a commando had some grisly footage to be analyzed because Trandoshan pirates were involved and the credits were on Delta Squad being responsible.)

“Mmm… That’s nice. Thank you again, Tech.” 

“You are welcome.” he replies, half-ducking his head back down into the datapad, though his eyes remain on you. 

Framed by the yellow lenses of the black-strapped goggles he wears, there is an observative nature to those brown eyes. The phenotypic eye color for all Clones is brown, he explained to you once. Though yes, there were a few aberrations in physical traits among his brothers in the GAR, just not quite to the same scale as the experimental squadron that Echo from the 501st Legion (once thought to be dead) joined not long ago. Echo still keeps in contact with the 501st, Captain Rex and a brother named Fives the closest of all. You figure what he must have been reading off his tablet before he came in this morning were more messages from his brothers. 

Setting aside notes as you read them, you’re careful to keep the scrap of poetry for last as always. Wonder what it’ll be today. A sonnet? Free-verse? Acrostic or maybe a limerick? Another haiku? Tech seemed to love leaving you haikus most of all. 

Still finding his eyes upon you, you lay aside the last note about keeping an eye out for a missing label-maker and delicately clear your throat. “Yes, Tech?” You’re careful to offer him a friendly smile, a quiet measure of assurance that you’re not annoyed or disturbed by his watchfulness. 

“Senator Amidala sent a letter of apology to the center regarding the honeysuckles and vase,” he begins, explaining the letter was forwarded to everyone who worked in the analysis department, “and since she feels terrible about the situation inadvertently caused for both her guest and the center, she suggested someone is welcome to keep both, if they wish.” 

“Well that’s very kind of the senator.” you reply, giving the flowers on your desk a look of consideration, one that prompts a strange expression out of the genius you generously share your desk with. 

You ask what the matter is with another swig of caf. 

“I hope you don’t mind too terribly that I… accepted on your behalf.” Tech confesses, aware he’s more than likely crossed a line by doing so. You and Tech do not know each other all that well, but he’s strung together enough clues to have some idea of what you like. He’s noticed what you give the most attention to, and you had secretly been admiring the Nabooian bouquet for some time on Taungsday… 

Cautiously, Tech adds, “You could always give them to a friend.” 

Casting a third glance over the tri-colored flowers, Tech is assured that won’t be necessary, and he’d been correct in his assessment all along. “I don’t mind at all; thanks for saving me the trouble. I was secretly hoping to take these home, I’ve been obsessed with Naboo for a while now…” you admit, dropping your voice into a near-conspiratorial whisper. 

There was an often sunny windowsill back home with plenty of space for the vase and flowers that would make for the perfect spot to show both off. Maybe it’d inspire you to finally take that trip to Naboo you always wanted. Naboo sounded like a nice place, nestled in the Chrommell system of the Outer Rim Territories. 

Idyllic, picturesque, it was often described. 

All this analyst-work had you in a position to see the glorious, the gory, and everything in-between in the adventures of the Grand Army day in and day out. Compiling reports near and far was beginning to instill a sense of longing for adventure in you; nothing grand was necessary, just something different. Something beyond the walls of the GAR research center here among the Core Worlds. 

I’ll be satisfied with a taste of adventure. Just one bite. Just one, I promise. 

The yellow-lensed goggles are adjusted. “What fascinates you so much about Naboo?” Tech asks, curiosity burning at him. 

“Oh… I dunno,” you say with a shrug, smiling, “it’s hard to put it all into words.” And you wouldn’t exactly have the time, either, with your shift due to start soon. While you’ve still got the time, you should finish as much of the caf as you can before it grows cold, and finally get around to this new poem Tech’s left for you. Maybe he can already guess that you know these are from him, but a part of you finds it fun in some way to pretend you don’t. 

Fixing an errant strand of hair back in place, you unfold the note and read. Another haiku, today, lamenting the dreary weather. 

To simpler splendors  Like summer's gentle breezes and honey most sweet - When will the rain stop?

You find it curious and strange - this possible complaint - given you know Clones come from the storm-cloaked world of Kamino. Surely this weather feels just like home for him; familiar, maybe even comforting. But maybe it’s not his complaint, it could have been your own off-handed remark from some time ago that he’s echoing back to you now. 

Tech’s level of observation was truly incredible, sometimes. You already felt yourself missing his knowledgeable presence once he was healed up and returned to the Bad Batch. That wouldn’t happen until he was rid of the walking boot and cleared for active duty, which was mildly comforting to you, selfishly speaking. Logically you know this arrangement is temporary, and you will not always have your willing assistant. 

A willing assistant who has given his attention to closing off communications with Wrecker, from the sound of things as CF99’s genius reads the messages under his breath. Tech is trying very hard to appear like he’s not taken notice that you’ve read his latest haiku. 

You set the poetry aside along with the other locker notes, and pick up your clipboard full of the day’s tasks. “Take your time, Tech.” you promise, chuckling warmly as he flashes the famous pointer finger in your direction, requesting just an extra moment. “I know Wrecker misses having his big brother around.”

Tech says nothing in response to your teasing quip, only offering an appreciative if distracted smile before he’s ready to help you with your tasks for the day. 

On Primedays, the first item of business on the list is often the most nerve-wracking of all your assignments, today no exception.

“Dammit, I grabbed the wrong screwdriver… Would you mind handing me the… the, uh…?” Tech takes the incorrect screwdriver from your fingers and replaces it with what you need while you struggle to think of the name for the correct type, much to your relief. “Oh, thank you Tech. Will you need this back when I’m done?” 

Tech nods, a silent promise it was no trouble. “I will not. I’m finished with what I needed it for. Feel free to use it as long as you need.” He does not need to remind you to go slowly. 

Your first research assignment of the morning involves dismantled bombs, and the additional Clone tucked in one corner of the room clad in the bright orange of ordnance specialists serves as an eye-catching distraction rather than a precautionary measure. Nicknamed Reddy, this Clone trooper is only doing his job, of course; he’s supposed to be here as part of the protocol. This facility has gone one thousand and twenty-seven days without an explosive incident, which is a comforting number, but there is no room for complacency. In the unlikely event a bomb somehow reactivates, Red Wire is here to snuff it out for good. 

(Or tell everyone to evacuate and seek shelter if he somehow can’t.)

Helmet clipped to his utility belt, Reddy is reading the printed report, bobbing his head in time to some jaunty tune he’s got stuck in his head. “Disarmed and partially dismantled by… CT-9903. That’s your squadmate Wrecker, right?” 

“Correct.” Tech replies tersely, hoping not to prove himself distracting to you. He’s only standing as close as he is to give or take tools as you need them. 

Reddy nods his head in approval of the work scattered over the examination table. “He did a good job. Definitely has the gentle touch needed for bomb disposal.” Yes… Wrecker certainly had steadier nerves than yourself right now. You would prefer not to have shaking hands, no matter how incapable this bomb is… should be… of going off. 

“Reddy…”

He catches the warning. “Sorry, ma’am.” 

You just need to pull off a particular durasteel plate, and take detailed pictures of a unique section of wiring to enter it into the GAR database of known bomb constructs and find close or exact matches. Then Reddy has the pleasure of disposing of the remnants for you. Fewer distractions while you remove notoriously fiddly screws, the better. 

So why are your hands still shaking now that you should be able to focus again? 

“... dammit…” You’ve worked yourself up about the unsteady nature of your hands now. Stress will only worsen it, prolonging the tremble. Setting the screwdriver aside is the best course of action until you can find your nerve. 

Rational thoughts, you remind yourself, everyone has had this happen to them at one time or another. 

“May I?” Tech offers, voice softer than you ever remember it being before now. 

He is careful in offering to help without immediately trying to take over your work. Tech recognizes you are capable in all the various aspects of your job, and he does not wish to undermine or blow off your expertise. He understands from experience how that can be frustrating, even disrespectful.

And Tech aims to be very respectful of you. He's been very careful in how he's hinted his interest in you thus far. (Maybe too careful.) The haikus in your locker had been because he heard you liked poetry, and he proactively accepted the honeysuckles Senator Amidala offered for the trouble because he thought you might like them. Sharing his favorite blend of caf was a decision more premeditated than the other two.

You step to the side, accepting the offer. 

“Thank you, Tech...” you say, gesturing to the tools in an unspoken measure of please, by all means. Tech takes position where you previously stood, and begins to work on the dismantled explosive. Long, dexterous fingers make the process of loosening and extracting the remaining screws look deceptively easy. 

“You’ll want your datapad soon,” Tech suggests helpfully, soon down to just two more corner screws to remove. 

“Oh, yes…!” 

Scooping the tablet off of the examination table, you habitually skip your fingers across the reactive transparisteel and pull up the camera function, priming everything to capture the colorful chaos of wiring and circuitry inside once Tech has removed the panel. Once it is lifted out of the way, Tech side-steps to allow you in front of the bomb once more so that you can capture records for the GAR database. 

However, the camera will not focus.

“Strange…” You tap the center of the screen, hoping perhaps the datapad will behave like your modern comlink and auto-focus, but it does not give you the result you hoped for. You chuckle somewhat bashfully. “Sorry, it’s… been a while since I’ve used this old datapad for taking pictures.” 

“Press the red, center button on the top row twice.” 

Taking the advice of the bespectacled Clone beside you, the image on the screen comes into crisp focus, not a detail lost. “Oh, that’s what that button does.” This tablet is an older generation, but the facility keeps it because it's sturdy and reliable. No sense in replacing perfectly good technology so long as it continues to work. 

“Been using these tablets for ages and I never knew that. How'd you know that?” Reddy asks from the corner, safely voicing his curiosity now that the hard part is behind you. “Just real tech-savvy, I take it. That how you get your name?” 

Tech smiles knowingly. “Learning the ins and outs of each machine I use is crucial to my effectiveness in service of the Republic. Much in the same way you're here to assist the researchers, analysts and reverse engineers in bomb identification, in some cases.” The second question goes unanswered, you notice, but Reddy seems to let it go. 

“Hah, can't argue with that comparison!” he says agreeably, his smile sunny. You’ve always liked that about this particular member of the bomb squad; Red Wire has an optimistic disposition and general attitude despite the nerve-rattling nature of his job. He’s not terribly jaded or gruff like some of the other Clones on rotation at this facility. 

Once you've collected all your necessary pictures, you are promised that he'll take it from here. “Good work as ever ma'am. I'll clean up while you get started on the search.” 

“Thank you, I appreciate the help as always from both you and Tech.” you say, patting him on the shoulder before you follow after Tech, who’s already making his way back to your desk, neck craned over his datapad. Stepping past the blast doors to catch up to Tech, you breathe a sigh of relief while Red Wire begins the disposal process, the hardest task of the morning behind you. 

“Glad that’s over,” you say, finally feeling your quickened pulse slowing at last, “Thank you for the help once again, Tech.” You’re certain he heard the first thank you, but extra gratitude never killed anyone. 

Tech’s deliberate stride slows to match with yours. “It was no trouble. I thought you might want the help.” A polite smile breaks the veneer of the usual expression of thoughtfulness and concentration you’ve become accustomed to in the time Tech’s been here. 

You’re very familiar with how he appears when he’s concentrated: the furrowed brow, his shoulders rolled forward, the subconscious setting and unsetting of his jaw as he mulls over a million thoughts. Wowing your colleagues with how he could extrapolate info from separate, complex datasets within multiple windows on the screen of his datapad without error. 

The way his brown eyes, deep and dark, looked like honey when framed behind his goggles…

Sitting down at your desk where you fire up the database you’ll be working with, already you see the slight furrow of his brow as Tech takes his seat on the other side, trading messages with his squadmates while he elevates his leg to alleviate the pressure of the walking boot. Tech misses being out there in the field more and more with every passing day. 

“Tell ‘em I said hi.” you request with a soft chuckle before allowing him to concentrate on keeping himself in the loop. You just have to hope his handsome face painted in deep concentration doesn’t prove too distracting for you as you cross-reference your wire samples. The squad leader of the Bad Batch, Sergeant Hunter, had teased Tech once a few weeks ago, when he dropped by with Echo, on the depths of Tech’s concentration. That’s when you’d truly taken notice of it for the first time.

Tech, utterly embroiled in some “little” project he’d created for himself here at the research center, was staying long after your scheduled hours, repeatedly promising that you really don’t have to stay here. 

You turn another page in your holomag. “I’ll be fine staying here a little longer. I want to make sure none of the senior analysts bother you. Again.” It was a slow Zhellday afternoon you had no other plans for, and a couple of people a little further up the chain of command really had a bug up their ass about Tech’s presence here today in particular, continually complaining about an incident with his crutches.

Someone hadn’t been looking where they were going and bumped into the mobility aids propped against a wall, knocking them over this morning. Unfortunately, there had been a tray of glass instruments set aside nearby that did not survive the crutches’ sudden descent. The senior analysts, most of them much older than you, wanted him thrown out of the facility and have the agreement with the GAR that Tech would be here until his broken leg healed nullified. 

“He’s got a broken leg! Is he supposed to just hobble around the lab without his crutches? It was an accident, but I’m starting to suspect you’re looking for excuses to get rid of him because you’re feeling threatened by his intellect!”

Clone Force 99’s second-in-command hums shortly in delayed response, a frown marring his otherwise concentrated expression. Tech adjusts his goggles as he pours over some reference. The man with partial skull iconography inked across his similarly tanned face next to Tech carefully nudges him with his elbow. 

“Tech, this is when you’re supposed to tell the nice lady thank you.” Hunter warns him, teasingly of course. He’s gotten back from a long deployment, and rather than going to the nearest mess hall with Wrecker and Crosshair, he’s come to check up on Tech, finding that he’s still at the GAR research center. He’s too tired to give any kind of reprimand just for the sake of appearances. 

“Especially after this morning… Don’t make me do the nat-born thing, vod.”

Tech sort of scoffs, the threat of referring to him by his CT number, like a misbehaving natural-born child hearing the use of their middle name, by his brother having little effect. 

“No thanks necessary, honestly.” You turn the page to your holomag, skimming the article to see if it’s worth an in-depth read, then meet Hunter’s eye. “It was honestly a bit cathartic to have a go at those jerks.” Decrying them as jerks to the squad leader of the Bad Batch was putting it real mildly given your true thoughts of them right about now. 

Echo gives you a knowing nod. The sergeant smirks, and this is what gets Tech to break his silence. 

“Don’t, Hunter.”

“Glad you made a friend, Tech.” Hunter says it with complete sincerity, so far as you can tell. Leaning back in the borrowed lab chair, Hunter kicks his feet up for a moment on a corner of the desk to adjust some parts of his armor. “Wrecker might get jealous.”

“I think we all would.” Echo says with a kind chuckle.

“Plenty of me to go around,” you promised the three of them, “I love making friends with the GAR.”

A few hours later, now four items deep into your checklist for the day with the wire cross-referencing behind you, you lean back in your chair and stretch your arms above your head, feeling something pop with great satisfaction. “Mmm! That felt good. Hey, Tech?” He nods to show he hears you, at which point you continue. “I’m thinking of running home real quick during lunch to take the honeysuckles home so I’m not wrestling with those on top of everything else I’ll have to take with me tonight. You gonna be okay on your own for a bit?” 

“I will be fine.” he assures you, sliding the clipboard from “your” side of the desk over to his. “I may need the password to your desk-mounted computer terminal, however.”

“It’s ‘naboofields’. All one word, no capitals, special characters or letters.” 

You root around your desk for one of the seemingly innumerable sticky-flim pads you possess, scribbling down the password - just in case - as neatly as you can before removing the top flimsi-note and hand it over to him. Honeyed eyes blink once in mild surprise after he inspects your handwriting. 

“Not very secure, I know.” you laugh bashfully, straightening a few sheafs of flimsiplast before gathering up the stack of locker notes to tuck them in your pocket. Busywork to avoid any kind of lecturing look. But when you meet his eyes for the moment before wondering how best to pick up the ceramic vase full of beautiful tri-colored honeysuckle, you find no disappointment. Only more curiosity. 

“Have you ever been to Naboo?” Tech asks. He’s noticed this particular topic has been cropping up a lot between the idle doodles on flimsi scraps of the bulbous Shaak grazing through lush emerald fields and little reminders you’ve written to yourself scattered across your desk lately. Ticket prices. Best time of year to go. Popular festivals. Fashion. You were weaving a curious pattern.  

Tech doesn’t do this very often, but he hazards a guess. Could you perhaps be… homesick?

“Were you born there?”

You shake your head. “I wasn’t born there, and I’ve never visited before. Naboo’s just some… silly dream of mine lately.” 

“Why do you say ‘silly’?” The question is earnest and sincere, and Tech sits forward off the backrest of the lab chair, posture straightening out. “Has someone said something unkind about your desire to see Naboo?” He couldn’t imagine why someone would disparage this; many galactic citizens express some level of desire to visit this planet in the Chrommell sector at least once in their lifespan. 

He’s assured there’s no one being unkind to you when you wave him off, sliding the vase across your desk carefully. “No one other than me, I guess. I dunno when I’d ever have a chance to go visit between the work I do for the GAR, plus being in the middle of the Clone Wars for stars’ sake…” You’re considering if it would be worth telling him about your developing case of wanderlust, your craving for a taste of adventure. (Just a taste… just a taste!)

What Tech was supposed to do with that revelation, you weren’t sure. Did you want his help planning this whimsical trip? Or did you just need to confide in him with this harmless little secret? 

“Would it be impolite to presume you don’t have many vacation days accrued in order to enjoy a short holiday?” Tech assumes you’re well aware of labor laws the GAR has to comply with for civilian staffing, like yourself, but he has no means of knowing how much PTO you have stored up without rooting into the system.

“Karabast, I- I hadn’t even thought of…” Your thoughts trail off as you look out one of the rain-spattered panes of transparisteel and determine you need to stop by your locker to gather your weather wear and rain repeller. When was the last time you had some extended leave from work that wasn’t a sick day, anyways? “I have some PTO I’m owed, but I try to be smart and save it for emergencies… I, uh, think I have more than two week’s worth.” Truthfully it’s been some time you looked at the amount of PTO you’ve accrued. It very well could be less than you remember, or more than you imagine. 

Tech makes a quiet murmur of agreement that saving the time off for emergencies is rather smart, shrugging after a stretch of clearly contemplative silence. “I was merely curious.” The statement makes it tempting to tease him in return, say something like aren’t you always? but he has something more to say before you work up the nerve, gesturing to the clipboard. “May I watch the helmet footage for you while you take the Nabooian Honeysuckles home?”

“I was warned it was grisly.” you caution him out of kindness, thinking back to one of the locker notes. “So, as long as you don’t mind or won’t be bothered, I suppose you can look at the footage for me… Credits are on it being sent from Delta Squad.” 

Scrutinizing the datadisc, Tech finds RC-1207 etched into it. Commando Sev, he tells you, went missing on Kashyyyk for a month early in the war… (Thank the Maker, his pod brothers had been fortunate in finding him.) Sev has never spoken of the experience. 

“This should prove to be fascinating, in some regard.” Tech speculates, slotting the disc into an external inspection device to set everything up to complete this in your absence. Goggles are adjusted every so slightly, changing the way they are seated on his face. “I’ll leave the notes for you on your desk by the time you return.” he promises. 

You make sure you’ve gathered the last of your things, saying that you better get going now that everything’s agreed upon. Carefully cradling the vase in the crook of your arm, you arrange the bouquet slightly with your free hand to avoid bruising any of the velveteen petals as you carry it. 

Turning on your heel, you head for your locker to collect your rain repeller. “Appreciate it, Tech, thank you. I’ll catch you later.” 

“Watch out for the deeper puddles, don’t slip.” Tech calls after you. 

He’s overheard many of your colleagues using this phrase the last couple of days to warn one another; the longer the rain’s gone on, the deeper the areas of rain retention have become since the water table is oversaturated. There has been no break in the weather, but the end is in sight. 

‘When will the rain stop?’ Soon. Maybe even tomorrow.

Habitually, you call back that you’ll be careful and another farewell, flashing him a sunny smile as you head out the door for the speeder cabs, the honeysuckles in one hand, repeller in the other. You don’t expect to be gone long.

Taking the vase full of honeysuckle home is your highest priority, right along with making sure the flimsiplast scraps in your pocket remain dry. Flimsi, while conveniently reusable, was hair-thin, had a slight transparency to it, and dissolved in water. (Why some disposable gowns for med centers were made out of the acrylic material when it was kriffing semi-transparent you had yet to figure out.) If you were careful of the shifting winds before you got to a speeder cab, Tech’s poems would stay safe and dry in your pockets, joining the others in a box of precious keepsakes at home. 

Maybe you could put them all in a scrapbook one day, able to read and admire them all at leisure, or whenever you miss having new haikus show up in your locker once Tech’s broken leg is fully healed and he rejoins his brothers. Tech’s been careful not to voice how much he’s come to miss his brothers - else he risks sounding ungrateful for the research center agreeing to let him assist there after much back and forth - but you know he’s getting somewhat impatient. 

“If I had known a second BX droid was around the boulder, I wouldn’t have tried to kick the first over the precipice…”

“That’s how you broke your leg?”

“Had it broken for me when the commando droid grabbed me, more accurately. Better me than Echo…” 

He’d return to his brothers in time with the whole of hyperspace at his fingertips. Hunter would get his second-in-command back. The Havoc Marauder will have both of her pilots and it won’t be Echo spending time alone in the cockpit. Wrecker and Crosshair will once again have their brother to parse through factitious scenarios and the complicated mathematics necessary to pull it off relating to their enhancements to help one another in staving off hyperspace hypnosis. 

And you’d go back to dreading Primedays and dreaming of clover covered plains on Naboo between every string of data you analyze for the GAR once Tech left. You’d miss the extra pair of capable hands and his talented, dare you say exceptional, mind. You’d miss the presence of yellow-lensed goggles and the steady, red light of the cylindrical camera attached to them that sometimes followed you around the analyst lab, that were as much a part of Tech’s face as the rest of his features. 

You’d miss him and the harmless little crush Jais teases you over since helping you find out who your secret admirer was. 

“Swing by your locker lately?”

“You have better eyesight than a Mynock but all the subtlety of a Reek, Jais. Yes I saw he left me another haiku.”

“What do they say?”

So much by using so little. 

Tech has just seventeen syllables to work with, but boy does he make them work. 

They will last far longer than any tender blossom, tucked carefully on the windowsill and lovingly arranged to fill in the gaps in the bouquet during transport. Home only for a short time, you settle for tucking the new haikus and other notes on the low table in the living room to sort through later tonight while eating dinner. 

Come to think of it, maybe you should invite Tech over for dinner sometime, while he’s still here. (While there’s still time to leave things behind in order to remember him by.) He’s been staying in temporary accommodations in the unofficial research district since the nearest GAR barracks are an hour away, and the district isn’t too far from your place. You’re not sure what the protocol on this is (or if there’s any), and he’s more than welcome to turn you down, but-

This harmless crush has gone beyond only going one way. 

You’re going to miss Tech when he leaves, not just because it means you'll lose an eager assistant who shares what he learns while you work. You've grown to like him in ways you haven't devoted proper time to exploring why with the nature of your work, but you like Tech too. And you don’t want just a vase full of honeysuckle that will one day wither and a smattering of haikus to remember him by. 

You want something more. Something meaningful before he goes back to making mayhem for the Separatists. 

And maybe it can start today, if you're clever enough. 

It's time to stop daydreaming.

When you return to the research center, you first put your rain repeller away in your locker and collect the few notes that appeared while you were out. No new poems, only warnings that one of the senior analysts had a bug up their ass the size of a mynock (scratch that, a bantha) again over something minor, and it's best to stay out of their way until they cooled off. 

“Hey, Tech, I'm back.” You announce your return from the lockers to avoid potentially startling him, finding him fiddling with a part of his vambrace. “Got some cryptic notes in my locker. Feel like I missed some excitement while I was away.” 

“Yes… You certainly did.” One of the analysts lost their temper with the ‘newfangled’ caf-pot in the break room, Tech explains. Nothing newfangled about it in truth, it just wasn't working because it had been unplugged for cleaning and someone just forgot to leave a note. 

“Speaking of notes,” he says as an aside, procuring a printed message from Lieutenant Waxer of Ghost Company in the 212th, “This came in just before you arrived while I was at the copier.” 

Giving the lieutenant’s request a once-over, you find a general greeting after the Grand Army of the Republic’s letterhead, asking if someone would mind helping him locate the origin of a particular word in the language of the Twi’leks. Printed requests are deemed non-urgent, but it’s simple enough that you don’t mind adding his query to the bottom of your daily checklist, on which you find only the helmet footage crossed off. 

“Thought you’d have gotten more done than this.” you say, chuckling as you take a seat at your desk. 

Tech adjusts his goggles and meets your eye. “Felt it would be impolite to take your work from you when we had an agreement for just the footage.” He returns to fiddling around with his vambrace and his datapad, perhaps trying to sync something up. 

His concern of taking further work from you without asking is very kind, and rather touching. You feel warmth in your face disproportionate to the heating system warming the labs on this rainy day. “Oh. Well, I wouldn’t have minded too much, but thank you. What’d you do instead until I got back?” You figure it didn’t take all too long to study the commando’s footage, finding the notes Tech’s took for you pinned underneath the datadisc the feed was stored on. Lifting the high-tech paperweight, you give the notes a glance. 

It’s the same thin lettering as the haikus. 

Tech tuts in thought while snapping a part of his vambrace back where it belongs. “General research. Nothing important.” He does not immediately elaborate on what he had researched, thinking you may want to take a moment to mentally prep yourself for returning to work and start on the next task at hand. 

They were not concerns he (often) had to keep in mind with Hunter, Echo, Wrecker and Crosshair because he knew them so well compared to other people, compared to you. They spent the most time together and could give him a playful ribbing for overstepping boundaries, or starting detailed explanations when it wasn’t the best time. No one cares! was often said in-the-moment, and apologized for in ways that did not involve the words I’m sorry - and that was normal with his brothers. 

So when you break into a big, friendly smile and draw out the word “Liiiike…?” while you continue to settle in, Tech knows it’s okay to elaborate. That you seem interested in what he has to say. 

“It was the origin of halliksets. I became distracted when I learned they were quite popular on Naboo, and spent some time looking into that instead.” As he expected, you perk up with the mention of Naboo, interest piqued. “They’re made with seven strings, and the ore commonly used to make them comes from Kreeling, a mining planet also within the Chrommell sector.” The ore seems to be used to decorate the rounded body of the instrument, from what he had been reading. Ornamentation rather than function. 

“Huh,” you say politely with a smile to match, “I had no idea. That’s really neat.” 

You thank him for sharing before agreeing that perhaps you should get started on some of your work when he warns you that he can hear someone from another department coming, and it may be wise to appear busy. 

For the next fifteen or so minutes, you and Tech are careful to appear focused on tasks from the clipboard. Something about figuring out why a standard caustic compound utilized by the GAR didn’t work. Tech casts a subtle glance over his shoulder while you muse over the specs, wondering just like you why someone from another department is taking their sweet time to leaf through all the disposable pipettes in the storage cabinet of all things. Trying to eavesdrop? Just really particular about their lab supplies? Who karking knows. 

While looking into the humidity record on Felucia the day of the recorded equipment failure, you take a moment to open the system you submit your time-off requests to and look at the amount of paid time off accrued. Two and a half weeks. That’s not bad. 

“Good to know….”

“What is it?” Tech asks.

“Oh, just poking into weather records,” you hum, hiding the portal, “Seems the caustic compound failed because of higher than average humidity that day. It was under six months old, so I don’t think it was a product age failure.” From the flashpoint of the Clone Wars on Geonosis, much of the equipment utilized barely sits on a shelf any longer than six standard months after its production and purchase for the Grand Army. 

Clones were clever. Well trained. They knew how to account for things like planetary climate, weather conditions and equipment age out in the field, but you’ll always have the occasional fluke. Things beyond your control, beyond what you trained for. (Some things you could never train for.) But the Grand Army of the Republic could be trusted to give it their all, no matter the occasion, no matter the challenge. 

You trusted men like Red Wire with your life here in the labs when you had to work with disarmed bombs, never doubting his ordnance training for a second. The same goes for the man sitting on the other side of your desk from you now, the injured leg in the walking boot propped up in a spare chair. You trust Tech too. 

When the personnel from another department finally leaves, they’re grumbling something venomously about the missing label-maker under their breath, the word “di’kut!” loudest of all. 

You recognize the Mando’a. Pronunciation DEE-koot. Multiple meanings. Idiot. Useless. Waste of space. (More accurately a waste of their time… Pretty sure someone already said the label-maker wasn’t in there.) You wonder where they know the word from. 

Speaking for yourself, you’ve picked up a smidgen of the language from working as a researcher and analyst, and you’ve added a few more words to your repertoire from Tech’s uninterrupted correspondence with the Bad Batch that he’s allowed you to see some of. 

And speaking of them… Now that you and Tech are alone, this might be a good time to try putting your plan in motion knowing how much PTO you have to work with now. You want to go to Naboo, and you want to see if there’s any way you can convince Tech to go with you. Maybe even meet you there with the rest of Clone Force 99. Make bumping into them look like a coincidence. 

“Hey Tech, when you return to your brothers, any plans or ideas on where you’ll go first?” 

A pad of sticky flimsi-notes is pulled from one of the many drawers of your desk, and you root around for a working pen while you wait on an answer. Calling upon courage from the very heart of the cosmos, you hope you can pull this off. 

Tech answers the break in relative silence with a quirk of his eyebrow. “None that I’m aware of, but I suspect we’ll be going wherever we are needed.” There is a long contemplative pause, eyes flicking to his trusty tablet more than once as a few new messages from Wrecker come in. 

“Is there some reason you’re asking?” He pushes the datapad aside now, giving you more of his attention, which is appreciated. 

Shoulders bounce. “What if I said I was just curious?” You don’t expect him to buy that, he’s too clever. But you need a moment of quiet contemplation on his part to count out the syllables without messing up. Once you’re certain you have five, then seven syllables, you flash him an easygoing smile. “Being curious isn’t a crime, is it?”

“On some planets it is. Some rather… ridgid, often self-isolated cultures across the galaxy view curiosity as a sign of an idle mind and fear it will inspire mischief. Free thinking. Rebellion.” 

The question had been rhetorical, and you don’t mind that he answered, but you find the fact quite sad. You also don’t want to begin to imagine how that sort of “crime” is punished. Curiosity is a natural part of life to all, to criminalize it is… frankly ridiculous.

“Well good thing we’re not in one of those isolated cultures.” you say, now thinking how you’ll finish penning this poem. Should you add your reasoning for why you wrote this at the bottom? (Would you even have room?) Maybe you should just tell him after he’s read your poem instead. 

“Agreed.” Another message comes in from Echo this time, but Tech ignores it, continuing to hold eye contact with you; almost like he’s performing an inspection. “So I hope it does not feel like an accusation when I say I don’t believe you are ‘just curious’.” 

“I did have an idea…” you admit, fiddling with the pen in your hand for the moment, “Since I heard Clone Force 99 isn’t keen on following every little order…” This is when you choose to slide the haiku you were working on over to “his” side of the desk, waiting in nervous silence as brown eyes scrutinize every Aurebesh letter laid bare before them. 

Can't we ever go  to a nice place, verdant fields  of spring eternal? - Feel like breaking a few rules?

Tech’s eyes lift from the flimsiplast note, looking surprised. He didn’t take you for the sort of person who’d encourage breaking certain GAR protocols, let alone… Your name falls from his lips, asking what this is about in the same tender tone. 

“I thought about what you asked regarding how much time off I have, and I found out I have two and a half weeks…” You explain, fiddling with the pen some more to occupy your nervous hands while he continues to monitor you. “I thought… Maybe once your leg heals up, and you’re cleared to return to active duty, you could find an excuse to spend some time on Naboo. Get to know each other better, perhaps?” He clearly has some kind of feelings for you that are in the earlier stages of reciprocation, and if you’re away from the lab, and he finds the time or the excuse to nip down to the Chrommell sector and meet up with you on Naboo, then neither one of you have to worry about behaving quite so professionally. 

Looking down at the haiku once again, Tech takes in your explanation, your invitation, and offers a mild chuckle at long last.

“You know what my brothers will say if I tell them about this?”

You swallow nervously. “W-what?”

“That it almost sounds like you’re asking me on a date.” 

You do what you can to keep your jaw from dropping, but there’s little to be done about the fiery feeling building in the apple of your cheeks that suggests there may be color blooming there. If you’re blushing, Tech certainly does a splendid job of politely pretending he sees no such thing while he gives your poem another look. 

You do the same in kind when additional color builds in his own face and crawls up his neck from under the top of the body suit. “I take it you figured out who was secretly leaving you the haikus.” His smile is timid, but not quite as nervous as your own. 

“I did. A while ago, actually.” you confess, confirming his suspicions. “I had help checking the cameras to see where the first one came from. I didn’t see a reason to say anything, or stop you.” You add that you’ve kept every single one, too, to some surprise of the computer and weapons specialist sitting across from you. 

He sits forward now, carefully easing the walking boot to the floor. “You really want to spend time with me on Naboo?” Your earnest nod surprises him further. You do. Out of millions of Clones in the galaxy, you’re asking Tech (and his brothers by proxy) to join you in visiting the idyllic planet. 

You carefully carve out a little portion of your PTO and submit the request as the very first step in the planning process, and while you await approval you and Tech will continue to work together as normal. You still have to behave professionally in the meantime. 

Well, as professionally as possible when Tech decides he can now confess he has a backlog of haikus for you, enough so you could have one waiting for you in your locker every day until he’s cleared to return to fieldwork in a few weeks, in theory. 

“Poetry every Primeday, honeysuckles today, and now you’re offering daily haikus? Maybe I will be asking you out on a date if you continue to spoil me like that.” you warn him, chuckling. Of course now you get the feeling Tech will make sure the weeks leading up to your time-off would consist of honeysuckle and haiku to ensure that you would. 

And those were going to become some of your best weeks working as a researcher and analyst for the GAR, whether you got that time off or not, because it would be spent making precious memories with Tech. 

That was what mattered most.

First time I've ever participated in one of these events, and I don't think I did too badly, considering I completely restarted this at one point! (Apologies for how long this ended up being, too, haha.) I hope you liked it, Tech-a! 🩷

Fic taglist: @msmeredithrose @lonely-day3636 @dukeoftheblackstar @dystopicjumpsuit

[Masterlist] [TBB Masterlist] [Taglist] [Requests: Open]

[bidisasterevankinard]

so hard to choose from all these wips but pls gimme some of:

🔄🔄🔄

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

📝📝📝📝📝

👨‍🍳👨‍🍳👨‍🍳👨‍🍳👨‍🍳

yeah months after but I finally got toanswer it (I'm sorry <333)

9 from 7x4 reverse with Sal:

“So, how was football?” Tommy aims for feigned disinterest, missing some lightness in tone for it to be believable, but Sal just drugs and smiles.

“It was fine. Kid got us good tickets. And it was cool to watch the game with someone who doesn’t moan every second about how bored he is.”

“Hey, I don’t moan!”

“Yeah, you're right. You whine like a baby who wants cuddles from their mama.”

“I don’t whine,” whines Tommy and on Sal’s smirk and a raised eyebrow answers with silence, changing the tactic.

9+ for break up and make up after 7s au:

“And then Sal …” when Evan says the name it’s like the lever inside his mind is yanked down and his brain is off. Evan’s voice is around him but he hears nothing. It’s like the headphones are put on him and he can make some outside noise, but not enough to actually comprehend anything. He just sits there, passing his food, not in the mood to eat. His stomach feels too easy to make sick.

“..my! Tommy!” the louder when before voice and the touch of his shoulder makes him jump in his seat and Evan takes his hand away. “Sorry, you just weren't answering me and I asked if you wanted to come to my place or you wanted me to come to yours as you seem pretty tired,” Evan smirks, but his usual playfulness and Tommy tries to answer but big blue eyes go sadder.

He guesses he didn’t fool Evan.

“Sorry, Evan, I’m really tired and have a headache. Want to be alone. If it’s ok?”

15 for Justin knows best:

“From what I saw he was,” Mr. Russo’s voice answers, “he was almost eye fucking you during renovations.”

“I’m sure he did it not to me, but to Eddie. Or should I remind you that it’s him he took to Vegas and I’ve got only one Harbor tour that I asked about.”

Justin nods to sadness in Mr.B voice feeling the anger on his uncle and Mr.Diaz getting higher. They broke his perfect plan and made Mr. B sad.

“First, Eddie was on the other side of the room and those big blue eyes were still taking off your tank top and shorts. Second, I remember about Vegas. You were mopping about it a lot recently,” Mr. Russo listed. “Maybe it was just a friendly fly? I mean they watched a fight together. If you ask me I’d fight a guy who takes me to a fight as a first date because I hate it. And you too.”

“Yeah, I thought it too,” Mr. says and then he somehow gets sadder, “but it wasn’t only Vegas. They also worked over Eddie’s Chavele. And yesterday they went to Karaoke trivia together. And Eddie asked me to babysit,” Mr. B whines the last sentence and Justin sees red. 

and 15 for second part on I wanna dance with you universe

“What is it?” Evan asks and Tommy shrugs, giving him a playful look, and waits for him to open the box, loving the laugh Evan makes when he reads the custom inscription.

Still laughing, Evan takes the bright pink apron out and turns it so that Tommy can read it, bold black lettering makes him smirk again.

He’s my favorite housewife

“So you want me as your housewife?” Evan asks.

“Do you like it,” Tommy ignores the question.

“I like the color and the title but only if it’s a joke. Because if it’s not, it's like a huge red flag and I’m gonna run from here right now.”

Tommy hugs the perfect waist, kissing the neck, loving the shiver that goes over Evan’s body, “just a joke, baby of course. And now as far as I remember,” Tommy nuzzles into Evan's neck, biting it, “I was promised that if I'll buy you apron you love, I can fuck you in it. Only in it,” Tommy whispers in Evan’s ear and  bites the skin right near it.

“I-I did say it, didn’t I?” Evan puts his hand in his hair pushing his head till their lips meet.

Using his body weight Tommy pushes his boyfriend till he’s near the counter and then sits him there, not breaking the kiss, with pleasure swallowing the moan Evan makes.

Ending the kiss Tommy gets back to working on Evan’s neck, while his boyfriend unbuttons his shirt.

[naychuchu]

🐈‍⬛

tw: this is my first time actually posting anything i’ve written. i made these pretty late at night so i’m sorry if they’re bad i just wanted to write something. probably some spelling mistakes and stuff i didn’t feel like checking it throughly.

a/n: please be nice

personal

* i’ve mentioned this before but baji absolutely LOVES the yakuza game

* favorite one is yakuza 0 (definitely not because this is the only one i’ve watched so far🌚)

* john cena fanboy for absolutely no reason. has his theme as his ringtone

* number 1 baby metal fan. owns their merch and goes to every concert

* his favorite season is summer for obvious reasons but his favorite holiday is definitely christmas because he and mikey ride around with shin

* HATES horror movies. like nothing can convince this man to watch them. even the kiddie ones like goosebumps or scary stories to tell in the dark will have him act like the devil just touched his soul

* definitely the kind of guy to walk around with one lens in his glasses after a fight

* purposely named his bike cockroach knowing pah is afraid of them

* he used to hate his fangs when he was little because kids used to tease him and say he was a dog

* that was until he started saying he’d bite and give them rabies if they kept messing with him

* cannot grow facial hair to save his life

* judges people on how they interact with animals, specifically cats

* despite popular belief, i don’t think he would get any tattoos. he seems like a piercing guy and definitely cannot sit that long for a tattoo

* gave himself the alias edward because he used to watch twilight with his mom

* he even had a phase when he acted like a vampire but will vehemently deny and threaten anyone who dares to bring it up

* is lactose intolerant and just like many of us will eat dairy and instantly regret it as soon as it hits his stomach

* sometimes he feels insecure about the fact he was held back, all of his friends moving up while he’s left behind

* even though he has a reputation for committing arson and slightly unprovoked violence, keisuke is truly a model citizen☝🏽

* volunteers at shelters, helps the elderly, feeds the homeless, solves climate change. he truly is a saint and can do no wrong!

home life

* i like the idea that his mom was a teen mom and that his father was never really around and just stopped coming one day

* due to her job, his mom sometimes works really late or super early so over the years he’s learned to cook (the only good thing he can cook is yakisoba)

* on the nights he knows his mom will be back late he cooks her food and despite it not being the best she still loves it

* even though she works a lot the two of them are still very close and their favorite thing to do is read manga and watch mystery dramas whenever she’s off

* despite not knowing his dad(he only visited when he was a baby) he never felt insecure about it

* he’s a total mamas boy, and will fight anyone who says something about her

* when ryoko was younger, she wanted to have a lot of kids but after having keisuke she changed her mind. she felt it would be selfish to have so many kids when she works so much and after realizing how much of a handful he can be.

* despite that and having him at such a young age, keisuke was the best thing to ever happen to her and wouldn’t trade him or his wildness for the world.

relationship

* back on the yakuza point, whenever you’re sad he’ll grab a hair brush, turn up the radio and start singing 24-hour cinderella to you until his voice is gone

* when you guys get in a fight he’ll act like he’s in a 2000’s r&b mv and start singing bakamitai. chifuyu gets the hose to spray water above him, kazutora plays the music, and ryusei records the whole thing so baji can send it to you

* a biter, like what’s the point of him having those sharp ass teeth if he don’t try to take a chunk out of you

* whatever your favorite animal is, he’s gonna buy every single book about them so he can share little facts about it with you

* if you’re into a specific artist or group, he’ll listen to their whole discography and learn everything in the fandom

* becomes a horanghae enthusiast and will force you to be one as well

* just like he’s loyal to his friends and toman, he’s loyal to you

* like foreva togetha foreva LOCKED IN 🤞🏽

* a girl tries flirting with him and all of a sudden he’s hellen keller

* the type of boyfriend to say you’re too spoiled whoever you ask for something while doing said thing you requested

* will literally lift his ass off the seat while you’re sitting next to him and fart on you then blame it on you

* talm bout some ‘ew the hell did you eat’ like his diet doesn’t consist of yakisoba, monster energy drinks, and beef glizzies

* speaking of farts😸 keisuke will send pics of his shit to you asking if it looks normal

* will make fun of you if you’re lactose intolerant as if he don’t be upside down on the toilet fighting for his life

* is constantly in your personal space. like he’ll be standing behind you while you play like candy crush or best fiends mumbling about moves you can make. sometimes he’ll snatch your phone and play it himself

* what’s yours is his. mid chew on something he wants? he’s opening your mouth and popping it in his, no matter if it’s soggy

* absolutely loves giving and receiving hugs, being in your arms makes him feel safe and gives reassurance that despite all of his flaws you still love him

* stares at you with his mouth open, no matter what you’re doing or how you look his eyes are on you 24/7

* takes the absolute worst pictures of you on facetime and puts each one in his favorites until the end of time

* throws rocks at your window at like 4 in the morning knowing you both have school just so you can ride around with him until the sun comes up

* i feel like he’d totally like mellow down on the things he does. he doesn’t want to worry you while he’s away

* constantly checks up with you so you know he’s okay and not lying on the ground somewhere and dying 🌚

this is so scary bye 😭

[fireflies-owl-city]

Beach Day (ElderLily modern au)

Elder Faerie and White Lily are on their first date since they tied the knot and got married to each other, and it’s your classic day at the beach! Sadly, Elder Faerie isn’t as excited for this as he’s acting, for he has a secret he’s kind of ashamed of

Tags: transmasc elder faerie, body dysmorphia, elder faerie has top surgery scars, a shitload of fluff and cuteness

“I can’t wait to show you the beach! It’s so beautiful.” White Lily excitedly told Elder Faerie.

As a kid, Coconut Beach was one of her favorite places to visit, next to Dragon Hill. It was this beautiful beach, with the softest sand, the clearest water, the cleanest coast, and so, so many different sea shells and little fish, and even some bits of coral from a coral reef near the coastline. That beach, as well as the national park, sparked her love for travel, and as soon as she was old enough to be on her own, she traveled the world, discovering new cultures and figuring out who she truly was.

It’s how she met Elder Faerie, it’s how she fell into that coma, it’s how she discovered all the fear and grief and darkness that plagued the world and sparked yet another passion, one for peace and love and justice and prosperity. But above all else, it’s how she realized just how precious her friends and her lover truly are, and how despite her now fragile form, she must care for them in any and every way possible. Crazy how the butterfly effect works, huh?

That beach changed her life, and now, that beach was going to be hers and Elder Faeries first date since they married and moved in together.

“And I can’t wait to see it, my love.” Elder Faerie replied, glancing at his wife and smiling softly.

Admittedly, Elder Faerie was happy to be going to this beach. He had seen just how happy Lily was to be taking him to this place, and the way her eyes lit up while describing this place to him, and after seeing all the horrible things she had been through recently, he knew he had to do whatever possible in order to preserve that innocent joy. Even if that meant facing a fear that had been looming over his head for years now.

See, Elder Faerie is a transgender Man. He was born a girl, with his cutesie innocence and his love for both cute girl stuff like fashion and makeup along with boyish stuff like video games and fantasy weapons. However, when he hit puberty, he realized something was off about his identity, about the way his soul felt broken when he developed curves and breasts, and his suspicions were confirmed when he discovered the gender spectrum in health class; he realized that he was in fact, a man. Sure, he still liked the classic “girly stuff” like cute dresses and his long, luxurious hair that reached down to his waist, but didn’t mean that he was truly a man.

He was a man stuck in a girls body, and now with a new body build and a bunch of crazy hormones, he was aware of how trapped he was, and he hated it.

Of course, White Lily knew all of this, and it almost made her love him even more. The way he braved such a difficult time, how he discovered such an amazing thing about himself, and how he was willing to share such a personal detail with her made her heart flutter with admiration and love.

However, because of his gender identity, Elder Faerie had gotten top surgery when he was in his early twenties, and while White Lily was fully aware of this too, she had never seen the scars left behind by his procedure.

Despite how wonderful he felt no longer having breasts, he hated those damned scars. It felt like some sort of burden, a dark secret that was harder to own up to than even realizing that he was trans. It made him feel incomplete, disgusting, fake. He had tried overcoming his fear by coming up with some stupid scar story like trying to dry a kitchen knife off with his shirt, but nothing realistic enough came to mind.

He wanted so desperately to believe that White Lily would accept him no matter what kind of scars were on his body, but nothing could calm his fear.

“…sunscreen, umbrella, drinks…” White Lily was mumbling to herself. She then turned to Elder Faerie, who had a wide-eyed blank expression on his face as he tightly clutched the steering wheel. “Are you okay, honey?”

Elder Faerie snapped out of his daze and glanced at White Lily with a confused expression on his face. “Huh? Oh, of course, I’m just thinking of all the wonderful things that might be at this magical beach you love so much. I packed my bathing suit, right?”

“You’re wearing it, silly. Don’t you remember putting on your swim trunks before we left?” White Lily giggled, “Are you… sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” Elder Faerie reassured her, “just tired I guess.”

Just then, they pulled into the beach’s parking lot, and after finding a place to park, they got out and unloaded their stuff. Walking onto the soft sand on the beach, the couple found a spot, laid out their towel, and got to enjoying the beach. They shared snacks and drinks, made cute little sandcastles, and talked about life together.

Then, White Lily wanted to get in the water.

“I’m going to get changed into my bathing suit,” she said, pointing her thumb at the nearby bathroom, “why don’t you take your shirt off so we can go swimming? The water is really nice.”

Elder Faerie nodded. “Go ahead, I’ll be here waiting for you.”

Once she had walked off, Elder Faerie sat down on the towel and wrapped his arms around his knees, burying his head in the space between his knees and his chest. He just felt so… ashamed. He was ashamed of his body, of the scars on his chest, of his fear, of his cowardice, hell, he was ashamed of his shame! Most of all, he was ashamed of his lack of trust in his own wife. He knew White Lily loved him for who he was, and that she would be perfectly fine with the remnants of his top surgery. However, something deep within him was withholding his ability to show her the truth. Would she really be fine with it? Even if she was, how would she react to the way he kept this from her. There were just too many variables to trust that it would go well.

“Fae…?”

Elder Faerie’s head shot up at the sound at his nickname, and he saw White Lily standing before him, looking concerned. “Fae, what’s wrong? You’ve seemed off all day.”

“I’m okay, I promise.” Elder Faerie replied, shaking his head.

“Honey…” White Lily sat in front of Elder Faerie, “I can tell that something’s wrong. I know you want to support me and share my passions and stuff, but I don’t want you do feel like I forced you to come here.”

“No, it’s not that, I wanted to come here! I just-“ his breath hitched, and he could feel the sting of tears in the corners of his eyes, “I just-”

Before he could say anything more, White Lily leaned forward and pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tightly and nuzzling her nose into the crook of his neck. “It’s okay, Fae. You don’t have to worry about anything, i promise. I won’t force you to tell me what’s wrong, but I can’t help you if you don’t communicate with me. Just tell me what you need from me and I’ll do whatever I can to make you feel better.”

Though hesitant at first, Elder Faerie returned the hug, relaxing into White Lily’s grasp. “There’s… something that I need to show you.”

Elder Faerie stood up and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, shrugging it off of his shoulders. There was his bare chest, featuring his top surgery scars.

White Lily stood as well and gazed at the scars, gently reaching out and grazing them with her fingertips. “This is what you wanted to show me?”

“As you know before we met, I got top surgery.” Elder Faerie explained. “The doctors removed the breast tissue, and I didn’t have boobs anymore, and it felt amazing. But these scars, they made me feel ugly and unwanted. I know I could’ve easily trusted you to see them, but I couldn’t bring myself to show you.”

Once he had finished, White Lily immediately pulled him into a loving kiss. “You are not ugly, you are the most beautiful person in the universe, and you have been the most amazing boyfriend ever. Even before we confessed our love for each other, even when I was in that coma, you were the most incredible man that I could have ever encountered in my entire life, and a few scars aren’t going to change my view of you.”

“I’ve just felt so ashamed of them,” Elder Faerie admitted, “I was ashamed of my scars, and ashamed of my own inability to tell you. I mean, I’m supposed to be the brave one in this relationship! I’m supposed to support you, protect you, keep you safe and loved! And I’ve survived so much, and yet I’m afraid of showing you a few little scars.”

“It’s okay to be scared, my love.” Lily replied, “it’s okay to be vulnerable, and you don’t need to protect me. And how I see it, these scars tell a story. One of pain and fear and confusion and doubt, but also one of hope and love and triumph. They tell a story of a challenge you were able to overcome and the way it changed you for the better.”

Elder Faerie looked at his girlfriend lovingly, feeling himself start to tear up again. “I love you so much…”

“I love you more~” White Lily replied in a cheerful, sing-song tone of voice, “now c’mon, once you touch the water you’re going to love it.”

White Lily grabbed her lovers hand and started to pull him towards the water. Elder Faerie happily followed, quickening his pace so that he could walk next to her. Once they reached the water, White Lily dipped her toes in, Elder Faerie following suit. Then White Lily playfully kicked water at him.

“Hey!” Elder Faerie said through giggles. Putting his hands up defensively, he kicked water at White Lily as well, earning a giggle and a similar response from White Lily. Soon, the tension between them had melted away, and it was as if their sad yet intimate moment had never happened. The two were playing like kids, giggling and splashing each other, swimming out into the deeper parts of the water, and even exploring the nearby coral reef, White Lily of course having to wave hello to all the cute little fish that swam past them.

Soon, hours had passed by, and by the time they had dried themselves off and loaded their stuff back into the car, the sun was setting behind them.

“Today was amazing,” Elder Faerie gushed, “you were right, that beach is amazing.”

“I told you, that beach changed my life,” White Lily agreed, “I know it’s just sand and water, but that beach is the reason I decided to explore the world, and we both know what would’ve happened if I had never traveled.”

Elder Faerie chuckled lightly. “Well, you did travel, and we met, and we fell in love, and now we’re married, so it doesn’t matter.” He hesitated for a moment, then added “Maybe we should go there more often. Maybe even invite my little brother and his son when they visit.”

White Lily smiled softly and rested her head on her husband’s shoulder.

“That would be amazing…”

Taglist: @janayuga @katsunemillennium @trustymikh @c00kietin @tartelongan @cedric-my-beloved

[wish-upon-the-universe]

u should. read my fic. or somthing idk im not ur mom

The Change God was not kidding when they said Dormont was trapped in time, but it doesn't interrupt the family travel plans! ...much.

It was strange.

One moment, you were watching Bonnie run away, time stretching on for what felt like years. Visions kept morphing in your mind’s eye; Bonnie making it safely, Bonnie being crushed by a sadness, Bonnie never able to come back to Vauguarde and growing up without their sister...

The next moment, you were stumbling forward as shades seeped back into the world and the curse faded away.

The King was gone. That was the only explanation for why Vaugarde began to move in time again, right?

A week passed.

No sign of Bonnie. Everyone in Vaugarde was scrambling to reunite with loved ones. The mail and communication services between houses was overwhelmed. As unlikely as it was for your Bug to be near Bambouche, you organized search parties nonetheless. The tracks Bonnie left behind as they ran were frozen in time, proof of escape, only to then abruptly stop. According to the travelers who were frozen in time alongside you, Bon had to travel through previously frozen towns, and nothing could change their landscape. Still, you searched as Bambouche recovered, desperate to find any new evidence anywhere.

The small fishing town found an overabundance of fish in the sea, due to the lack of fishermen culling the populations. Plenty was caught, and celebrations lasted for days. 

You couldn’t enjoy it, not when you didn’t have a clue as to where the last of your family was. 

A month passed. 

Nothing, still. You clung to hope by your fingernails, desperate to keep any semblance of faith in you. 

Bambouche was a small town - everyone knew of Petronille and Boniface, the runaway siblings. It takes a village to raise a child, and you could say with confidence that it was true. The townspeople were just as heartbroken as you over Bonnie missing. 

Even when search parties were coming back with less and less information, people promised to keep their eyes out. Flyers and letters were put up and sent out. Surely, surely someone would have seen something by now? But with each passing day, it felt more and more like Bonnie would never come home.

When you couldn’t muster the energy to cook anything, your neighbors left their “leftovers” so as to not waste food. When the house slowly accumulated dust and grime, a group of teens came by and said their community service project was to clean every house in town. When you sat at the dock, dried tears staining your face, and a longing in your eyes, an impromptu “release of the curse anniversary” party was held with lots of your favorite food and drinks being served. You don’t comment on it.  

Three months passed. 

Bambouche was slow to receive news, but gossip traveled like wildfire across the whole country. You’ve heard about Mirabelle and her party of Saviors. What you hadn’t heard until recently was that Mirabelle had recruited Bonnie. 

At first, you were angry: how could the Change God’s chosen drag a literal child into a quest like hers? But as more rumors trickled in, a timeline was established. 

Mirabelle had originally asked for the Defender’s help… only for all but one to turn her down. The man - Isabull or something -  had accompanied her until they ran into a second companion. A foreign traveler from Ka Bue, with a 2 ton book in her arms and daggers in her glare. 

The trio had made their names known for a few months before being joined by a second traveler. The only things to distinguish them was a darkless wizard’s hat, a thick cloak (in Summer, no less!), and the glint of a dagger. And finally, some time after you were frozen, the group had picked up Bonnie. 

You really wanted to be mad and blame the adults for bringing a child… but you knew better than anyone what your Bug was like. No doubt, as soon as they heard the group was headed to the King, they did their absolute best to stick with them, insisting on kicking the King’s butt personally all the while. But that wasn’t what was worrying about the rumors. 

Not all of Vaugarde had been unfrozen, apparently. The King had nestled himself in Dormont, a tiny town south of Bambouch. It was the last place to have been cursed, and it was where the Saviors had been headed to. 

Where they were probably trapped. 

No one had been able to reach Dormont since the curse lifted. Anyone who tried would find Dormont’s House - warped into a hideous castle - behind them, no matter what direction they approached from. No one was able to get in… and that meant its residents and guests couldn’t get out.

Bonnie couldn’t get out.

You weren’t sure what to think of the rumors. 

Six months passed. 

Theories floated with the gossip, whispering that the King had removed the curse to use all his power in his months-long battle with the saviors. They whispered that something was protecting Vaugarde from Dormont and the village was stuck in time, imprisoned in the moment just before the Saviors defeated the King. They whispered that the Saviors did defeat the King, at the cost of Dormont and their lives. 

You stopped listening to rumors after that.

A year passed. 

You locked yourself in Bonnie’s room on the one year anniversary of getting frozen and Bonnie running to what you thought was safety. For one, horrible, miserable day, the sky mourned with you and your wails were drowned by thunder. 

A year, a month, a week, 3 days, 4 hours, 19 minutes and 28 seconds passed. The sky split open in a visceral shade.

A year, a month, 2 weeks, 5 days, 18 hours, 41 minutes and 15 seconds passed. There was a knock at your door.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Hello~! I was wondering if I’m able to request a platonic and romantic matchups for supernatural and Star Wars please?

I’m a 25 year old woman and I prefer men. My pronouns are she/her. My age range is 23-27. I’m 5’4 and I have big green eyes with glasses, burgundy dyed wavy hair and I have a few piercings (nose and ears). I also have a curvy/chubby body type. I’m shy and awkward at first, but I’m more talkative, bubbly, giggly and playful once you get to know me. I’m also super sarcastic and mischievous. And I tab bit moody at times. I can be social when I want to, but I prefer to be more reserved and observant in social settings. I also struggle with insecurities, mentally and physically.

I love animals (especially cats, I have two) and kids. I enjoy anything cute and fluffy, tracking, gaming, doing my makeup, bantering, baking, nature, watching trashy shows and napping! I also love anything spooky and am learning to do tarot card readings. I HATE spiders, crowds and loud abrupt noises. Also dislike rude and inconsiderate people, heights, and being suddenly touched by someone that’s not my s/o. I would describe my aesthetic/style is whimsical goth. I love wearing long flowing skirts and tops with a corset, boots and of course a cardigan.

Hopefully this isn’t too long of a ready for you! Thank you so much and I hope you have a good day/night~ 😊

Hello! I am sorry that this was posted so late!

I would be happy to give you both platonic and romantic matchup headcanons for SPN and Star Wars! <33333 (Also, what you gave was the perfect amount! :))

I hope you enjoy them!

Romantic and Platonic Matchups; Supernatural and Star Wars

~~~

Romantic;

~~~

Supernatural;

Jack Kline -

You met Jack through mutual connections to the Winchester brothers.

You were helping out on a case, involving some supernatural creatures, your careful observation skills impressed him right away.

Jack, being naturally curious and kind, was immediately intrigued by you and your personality.

Your somewhat more reserved and slightly shy demeanor reminded him of himself at times when he was still figuring out the world.

He noticed your interest in tarot reading when you pulled out a deck while waiting at a motel.

He had to ask about it.

He was fascinated and eager to learn, sparking your first real conversation.

Jack adored your love for animals and was endlessly amused by your stories about your cats.

During car rides or waiting in motel rooms, Jack would often ask about their antics, wanting to know how they were; he quickly became their biggest fan.

He loved how you would laugh at his attempts at banter, even when they were awkward.

Jack respected your space but enjoyed quietly sitting nearby when you were baking or working on your tarot readings. He found your hobbies fascinating.

Jack’s feelings for you blossomed slowly. He admired how you were shy at first but lit up when you were comfortable. Watching you giggle and playfully tease others brought him so much joy.

He loved to admire you from afar, watching as your smile brightened, the way your eyes sparkled...

For you, the fact that Jack genuinely listened to you when you spoke made you heart flutter. He didn't mind when you rambled.

He would unconsciously protect you on hunts, always positioning himself between you and danger. It wasn’t long before you realized just how much he cared for you.

Jack's confession was the sweetest, he blurts out something like, “I think you’re really amazing, and I’d like to… Spend more time with you, if that’s okay?”

Dates with Jack are simple but meaningful. He enjoys walking through nature with you or staying in to bake cookies and watch trashy TV shows.

He’s your biggest cheerleader, always complimenting you when you feel insecure. “You’re beautiful, inside and out, and nothing will change that.”

Jack loves learning from you. He asks you to teach him about tarot, or even how to play your favorite video game.

He leaves little notes or flowers for you when you're feeling down, his sweet gestures making your heart melt.

Do not worry, if there is a spider, Jack is more than willing to save the day and take the spider outside and far from the bunker/house/motel/etc.

Building the ultimate blanket fort to watch movies during storms, Jack insisting on making it as cozy as possible for you.

You both end up sleeping there, on the floor, cuddled close.

Jack loves taking you to the zoo, watching as you point out the animals and tell him little fun facts about them.

Jack remembers small details about your likes and dislikes, making sure to avoid things that upset you, like large crowds or - as mentioned - spiders.

Loves watching or doing anything spooky with you.

When you’re struggling with insecurities, Jack takes the time to talk through your feelings, reassuring you with his sincere and loving words.

When you want to be alone for any reason, Jack will leave you be. He knows how important decompressing is.

When he’s feeling down, you bake his favorite treats and remind him how much he means to you.

When he opens up, you love how funny, battery, and carefree he becomes.

You love his smile.

~~~

Star Wars;

Anakin Skywalker -

You met Anakin while working as a medic.

Your paths crossed after the battle, where you were stationed to heal Anakin.

You were a little wary of his intensity at first, but his charm won you over when he made a sarcastic comment that matched your own mischievous streak.

Anakin couldn’t help but be drawn to your kind heart and quick wit.

You both talked to each other and after you helped with his wounds, you felt kind of upset that you would have to go your different ways.

But, Anakin had actually put in a good word for you after you had healed him so beautifully, and you were quickly hired to be his and Obi-Wan's personal healer.

Yay! You got a promotion!

Your friendship grew through shared moments during missions, like late-night chats around a campfire or him asking you about your whimsical goth style.

He loved how you brought a sense of calm to his often chaotic life, and you found his passion and determination inspiring.

Anakin would subtly try to impress you, showing off his skills with a lightsaber.

Anakin’s feelings for you were intense and immediate, though he struggled to express them.

He’d often find excuses to spend time with you or protect you during missions.

For you, his loyalty and the way he genuinely cared for you melted your heart. You started looking forward to when you could spend more time alone with him.

Anakin’s confession would be raw, passionate, and tinged with vulnerability.

One evening, as you both watched the stars from a quiet spot on Coruscant, the weight of his feelings finally became too much for him to bear. His voice, usually so confident, trembled slightly as he broke the silence.

“I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a fool, but… You’re all I think about. You bring light into places I thought were too dark to ever see again. I’ve faced battles and enemies that should terrify me, but the thought of losing you? That’s what truly scares me.”

His eyes would burn into yours, a mix of fear and hope swirling in their depths. “I don’t want to hide how I feel anymore. I love you, more than I’ve ever loved anything, and I don’t think I can go another day without telling you.”

Waiting with bated breath for your response, Anakin would let out a sigh of relief when you took his hand and smiled, revealing that you also felt the same.

Anakin is fiercely romantic, going out of his way to surprise you with gestures like flowers he picked himself or a secluded dinner under the stars.

He loves to show you off, whether you are by his side or not, boasting about your bravery and intelligence to anyone who will listen.

When you’re feeling insecure, he’s quick to remind you how incredible you are. “You’re perfect as you are, and no one can convince me otherwise.”

He’s also deeply protective, always ensuring you’re safe and happy.

Your love - sadly - is still forbidden because of the Jedi Code, but Obi-Wan approves!

Dancing to soft music on the ship, with Anakin spinning you around and dipping you dramatically.

Stargazing together, with him pointing out constellations and promising to take you to more places and worlds someday.

Him teaching you how to repair and fix droids.

Anakin goes out of his way to make you feel cherished, even in the middle of a war.

He defends you fiercely against anyone who disrespects or mistreats you.

They will get some harsh words from him, his glare making anyone apologize.

When you’re scared or upset, he holds you close, his strong presence offering comfort and security.

If you need space, he is happy to give it to you; always making sure you are mentally good and happy.

Naps with Anakin are heaven, you are sure. He loves cuddling.

You help Anakin unwind, offering him a safe space to let down his guard and be himself.

Your playful banter and lighthearted teasing bring out a softer, more relaxed side of him.

You’re his anchor, reminding him of the good in the galaxy when he feels overwhelmed by darkness.

~~~

Platonic;

~~~

Supernatural;

Dean Winchester -

You met Dean while working at a small-town diner where he and Sam stopped for a meal.

You couldn’t help but overhear their hushed conversation about vampires, though it sounded more like they were discussing some obscure movie plot.

Their frustration was evident, as they couldn’t figure out a specific detail about dealing with vampires.

Curiosity (and maybe a bit of mischief) got the better of you, and you couldn’t resist chiming in.

"I don’t mean to eavesdrop," You said shyly, glancing between them as you topped off their coffee.

"But if you’re dealing with... Uh, vampire-adjacent problems, maybe try silver? I remember reading somewhere that slashing them with silver can hurt them, burn them, and slow them down."

Dean raised an eyebrow at you, intrigued despite himself. Sam glanced at Dean, clearly considering the possibility.

Dean raised an eyebrow at you, intrigued despite himself. Sam glanced at Dean, clearly considering the possibility..

You shrugged, holding your coffee pot like a makeshift weapon. "Maybe not, but slowing them down gives you time to figure out what does. Right?"

Dean smirked. "You’ve got a point there, coffee girl."

Unbeknownst to you, your casual suggestion would later prove to be the edge they needed to handle the nest they were hunting - and it wouldn’t be the last time your keen observation would come in handy.

At some point, you ended up moving in with your two new roommates; Sam and Dean.

Dean loves bantering with you, often trying to out-sarcasm you. It becomes a game to see who can get the last quip in.

When he finds out you love baking, he constantly pesters you for pies. He even tries to trade favors for your homemade treats.

Your shared love for spooky things bonds you; like movies, and he admires your talent of bein able to read people in tarot.

Loves giving you nicknames based around your tarot reading; like Madame Mystique or Madame Leota (from The Haunted Mansion ride at Disney).

Sam and Dean don't normally let you join in on hunts or cases unless they are 110% sure that you wouldn't get hurt or become easily overwhelmed.

After long hunts, you insist on cooking or baking something warm and comforting for him and Sam, even if he claims he’s "fine."

He will eat anything you dish out at him.

You’re always on hand to listen when Dean needs to vent but won’t admit it. Whether it’s about the latest hunt or a deeper emotional struggle, you create a safe space for him.

Dean is fiercely protective, treating you like family. If someone ever upset you or made you feel insecure, he’d put them in their place - no questions asked.

When he and Sam leave for a bar, he either makes sure to bring you bar fries home to you or makes sure Cas is there to keep you company if you so wish it.

When you are under a somewhat moody spell, Dean cracks jokes to try and cheer you up. If that doesn't work, he'll try his best to try and bake you something for a change.

He might even "accidentally" compliment your style, mumbling something like, “Yeah, that cardigan thing you got is cool or whatever.”

He’d find quirky, spooky trinkets during hunts - like a vintage tarot deck or a skull candle - and gift them to you with a sheepish grin.

Movie marathons in the bunker, where you force him to watch “trash” shows while he groans but secretly enjoys them.

Late-night drives in the Impala, windows down, the wind in your face.

~~~

Star Wars;

Han Solo -

You met Han while traveling with a small group of smugglers.

Deciding to travel on your own, you needed a way off a dicey planet, so you asked Han, knowing about him from being a smuggler yourself.

Han initially dismisses you, not wanting to take on “dead weight,” but your quick wit and charm win him over.

Chewbacca liked you instantly, which helped sway Han’s decision to give you a ride. “If Chewie likes you, I guess you’re not all bad.”

But, you never did end up leaving.

Spending time with Han and Chewie was actually fun.

Han loves your mischievous streak - it matches his own. You quickly become partners in crime, with the addition of Chewie.

There are almost endless back-and-forth quips between you and Han.

He notices you’re shy around crowds and subtly takes the lead in social situations, deflecting attention off you with his brash confidence.

You’re one of the few people he trusts with personal details, like his past or his insecurities, though he’ll never admit he’s "opening up."

You always patch him up after dangerous missions, scolding him for being reckless while gently tending to his injuries.

When he gets in over his head (which is often), you bail him out, whether it’s talking your way out of trouble or using your tarot readings to predict outcomes during sticky situations.

You’d use your baking skills to make him something sweet for Life Day, teasing him when he tries to act like he doesn’t love it.

You know he loves it, he always ends up making excuses for having seconds; "Uh, yeah, Chewie wants more."

You make sure he takes breaks from smuggling and fighting, encouraging him to relax and actually enjoy downtime.

If anyone disrespects you, he’s quick to draw his blaster - or at least threaten to. “Nobody messes with my crew.”

Han would gift you odd treasures from his smuggling runs, like rare crystals or trinkets, with a casual “Found this junk. Thought you might like it.”

Piloting lessons in the Millennium Falcon, with Han grumbling about your “terrible” flying skills while secretly enjoying your enthusiasm.

Helping Chewbacca prank Han, only for Han to turn the tables and prank you both in retaliation.

[quinloki]

Help Me

Quin

You put Thatch in my brain!! I already have two himbos I guess what’s one more 😭😭

To be between them… sigh….

The size of his hands in that one... /fans self/

AHEM.

Yeah, Marco/Thatch is certainly a pair I would not complain about being caught between. That being so big - he makes me think of Peeta from Hunger Games - he's just been in and around cooking and such since he was a kid and the man is hella strong.

Thatch is all big and barrel-chested and you know he's tossing sacks of flour four at a time like they're hardly nothing, and how he could man-handle you into oblivion. But I also see him as having this Massive Hopeless Romantic streak, and he wants to be a Gentleman™, even if his understanding of one is highly romanticized.

Holding open doors, easily just setting you down places where you'll be safe and comfortable.

It's a slow build up because he doesn't want you to feel pressured by his presence or affections, and once he's sure your desires are reciprocated, it's still not something fast at that point. Oh, it's happening, don't misunderstand, but he's just so careful and gentle.

His fingers almost touch when he grabs your thigh, and your so small and he's just so big, a good 6 inches taller than Marco and his nearly 6'9" height. He doesn't have a devil fruit, just a great control of haki and a body built like a tank.

Thatch can make everything from flattened steaks to delicate pastries, and that skill is certainly what he takes advantage of with you, but there's a little nervousness still there for him. If he breaks a pastry no one cares, but he doesn't want to leave a mark on you - and good luck to you in your endeavors to change his mind.

Your first few times might take hours as he explores, tests, learns, etc. Even after he learns he won't be rushed, any good chef knows a proper meal is savored, and you are his favorite dessert.

Once he puts his back into things though, and that hair falls and wreaths his face as he's caged over you.

He can be a dom, but he's a switch for sure, and I think when paired with Marco and/or Izou he's such a sub it's adorable, but gods I just want him to drill me into that mattress some way, some how.

[fictionkinfessions]

what a wild experience it is to be relatively young while also having a large number of past lives constantly popping up in my memory.

i've been nonhuman more times than i know, but just like i suited myself then, humanity fits me perfectly now. i have more estranged family members than the combined amount of everyone i've met in this life, but still act awkward around my blood relatives because i haven't quite gotten confident in this new self yet. i've worked any imaginable number of jobs but my new first one still seems just as intimidating, at least socially. i've held unbelievable, unsustainable power and more times than not used it for good, for the sake of my people, but i feel guilty accepting simple help from my loved ones. every past and present social convention is more suggestion to me now, yet still i follow, knowing there's nothing worse than being above or below everything where the only part of you others can see is your shadow.

where i once was the pitch black void of destruction for my enemies, i'm now small and soft and doting, and the craziest part is, i was always both.

i cycle between feeling intimidated by/estranged to those older than me and thinking of people my age or older as kids. just like most anyone, they're rambunctious and unafraid and openly, adorably don't know what they're doing because, in their eyes, it's the beginning of their first time. i've done that, too, but remembering it from the perspective of beyond keeps me from experiencing it quite the same way again. the amount of times even before adulthood i have been referred to as an "old soul" is comical- i am old, so old that my highest desire is to teach, to care, to protect others whenever they need it, yet i'll never be too old to remain young in the ways that matter. every menial "coming of age" thing i have done and will go on to do i have done once, twice, a thousand times, but this time is not special in that it won't be when i stop getting excited. my brain prevents me from remembering it all, but if i've learned anything, it's that excitement and joy are all that remain when all else fades away. knowing this means every choice i make will not be a missed or seized opportunity, rather a dedication to love and life itself.

i've had the hard truths of existence carved into my mind over and over. i've been broken and reassembled and built up to tumble back again, yet each time i move on, the burning remnants become nothing more than a fuzzy afterimage that superimposes itself on my being, now entirely different in the exact same way. really, that's the beauty of it; a different body and mind with the same information will come to a different conclusion, even if similar. no set of hands can sculpt a lump of clay the exact same way twice. i am the clay and i am the hands and i am the eyes that gaze upon my self-creation in admiration, in a way some may wish to but cannot in quite as much depth. one day i will hold an entirely new form and choose a new, yet equally true, metaphor to describe the ways in which i've changed. and then, too, i will be young and grown, and grow up while remaining young, and love relentlessly, unconditionally. in this, i will never be alone.

collectively, i'd say my age outranks that of this universe itself. but just like it, i am still a kid, marvelling at the gift of life with bright eyes despite every wild possibility. beauty is within the love you create. so i say to you, another irreplicable creation within the crushing embrace of existence:

reread that cringe book you like, or replay that game that used to be your favorite as a kid, or pick up the hobby you've wanted to try that you know the people around you would think is lame. rant about the most seemingly meaningless things just because you wanna. be as spiritual or non-spiritual as you wish. embrace your various identities and interests with a whole heart, and if they change, let them. you change every day you exist, and you will never be precisely as you were or will be, which makes the you you are now infinitely valuable. if your people are too blinded by the biases of this world to make peace with the harmless things that bring you joy, find new people who can admire the story of each smudged fingerprint in your surface just as readily as every smooth curve and minute detail. whether it be through friendship, romance or family, let yourself be shaped by the influence of others in that irreplicable way you would never achieve on your own. stand on your business when you have to, act the way you feel, speak your mind. make mistakes and learn from them, and make them again, and learn something entirely new. take it from me: you will never run out of things to learn or to love, and that's the greatest gift of all. learn what you need and what you can, and most importantly of all, learn what you love so that you might have the time to love it for as long as possible. remember your time is limited, but acknowledge anything you do to fulfill yourself or something important/necessary to you is not a waste, despite how limited you may be. take whatever pace makes you comfortable, no matter what vindictive minds may insist, and live a life full of all the things you and your loved ones desire, so that no matter when the day comes that you move on, you will know it was worth it.

and, if you can, leave a positive impact on those you meet who could use your irreplicable influence. never force yourself to become beholden to another (just as any other shouldn't be to you) and uphold your personal safety before anyone else's, but if you have the chance to change something for the better, don't choose to let it go. if nothing else, you'll thank yourself for it, as will i. i know you're struggling, and you are trying, and i love you. i believe in you. as long as you always protect and value your own voice, you will live in the best way. never give up on that.

(p.s: also don't give up on your sleep schedule! i'm sitting in tumblr writing this at 4 am on a friday morning. when this is posted, chances are you will never know me or even want to, but remember those you do know and hold them fondly in your heart. and especially appreciate those who choose to work for the benefit of others, like mpc! (thank you for providing this space for people to share things they otherwise couldn't.))

to whoever you might be today, take it easy out there.

- a friend

x