#if anything strikes your fancy you can use with credit

[portlandwithyou]

Mountie on the Bounty (Part 2) Icons

[obbystars]

Drop some random sebastian headcanon u have in mind fics related or not if u ever had one pls drop itudulfyldyostoakakak😇😇

(ALRIGHTY LET’S SEE IF I’VE STILL GOT IT IN ME TO MAKE A HEADCANON POST)

CONTENT WARNING: cannibalism in post-experimentation section

Notes: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader / General Relationship Headcanons + some general Sebastian headcanons / kid you not pulling this up i realized i did not have any headcanons for sebastian thought out so i spent a good while thinking LSJDJSNX / i hope you guys know this is written by someone who has not dated before (has no idea what they’re doing) / wishing this could’ve been longer

Credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

To be honest, when it comes to entering a relationship with Sebastian, I can never see it happening when you meet during the events of the game. Like, obviously he only sees all of expendables as research collectors (and possibly food) and that’s pretty much it. He does not give two shits about us.

If you knew him before he got arrested, or even knew him while he was a prisoner under Urbanshade (specifically another prisoner), then yes I can see it happening. Of course, if you knew him beforehand and became an expendable for whatever reason after, then yes I can also see it. It’s because you knew who he was before he became what he is now, y’know?

Anywayy…

He’s a teasing type of partner. Often making sarcastic comments whenever he sees the opportunity to, pushing some of your buttons just for the fun of it, all that stuff. He can tone it down if you ask though, or if he sees it’s actually bothering you.

Sebastian does like cuddling but he is almost never the one to initiate it. It’s not that he’s uncomfortable (well he kinda is sometimes), he’s also not sure if you’re comfortable with it unless you voice it to him. Will that change anything? Not really, you’ll still need to initiate most of the time.

It’s probably obvious now that I see a relationship with Sebastian will require quite a bit of communication, but there’s nothing wrong with that. As long as you can respect his boundaries whenever he voices it, there won’t be any problems. Be sure to voice yours too, he doesn’t want to overstep any of yours either.

He’s a listener. Ramble about the most random stuff to him and he’d unintentionally take in the information. Sometimes you just going on and on about stuff makes it easier to work on his homework even if what you’re rambling about is related to your own work. If random factoids aren’t exactly what he’s looking for, playing music also helps. You can take turns playing music. He rambles too but not all the time. Usually it’s something relating to his engineering class.

Sebastian can cook up something really good whenever he feels like it. It’s not super fancy but he can recreate some of his mom’s recipes. When it’s not that, it’s just a simple peanut butter and jelly sandwich or something microwaved. It really depends on the mood he’s in. If you cook, try making something he hasn’t had, like a dish from your country. He’s always willing to try.

Quality time type of partner. You don’t really need to be doing anything, he’s happy just being in the same room as you.

You two are watching YouTube videos on his laptop in bed late at night until you both fall asleep. One of you sometimes wakes up to put the laptop away, while other times it was almost kicked off the bed. Thankfully it hasn’t happened yet.

Game date nights. Whether it’s PvP or Co-op, you’re both playing. Local or online, doesn’t matter. As long as it’s multiplayer. Sebastian does strikes me as a rogue-like, souls, shooter type of gamer though. He probably picked up Sims at some point and got way too into making houses rather than actually making Sims. Sometimes he playa horror but it scares the shit out of him most of the time.

He sometimes plays his guitar for you, even asking if you have any requests. If you ask nicely enough, he’d help you learn how to play if you don’t already. If you actually end up getting your own, he’d be so down to play with you.

Meeting with his family is pretty much a must (his mom wants to meet you). His big sister embarrasses him by telling you just how much he “gushes” about you. In reality, he talks about you to them whenever they ask and if you two are going out just so they know and to not call or text him or anything until then. Still, his family likes you and that’s all he wants.

Post-Experimentation

Remember how I said Sebastian isn’t exactly uncomfortable with touch? Yeah, now he is. He has a bubble around him and he does not like it when someone gets too close whether it was intentional or not. His reaction to it can vary from shoving them away to a more violent reaction that may lead to a serious injury or even death.

Upon finding a corpse and being so terribly hungry, he had to try and force himself to eat it. The idea of eating another person made him want to spit it all out, to regurgitate all of it out. Flesh, bones, intestines, lungs, liver, heart… “Keep it in your stomach. You won’t find much food after this.” Eventually, he was able to stomach it. Eventually, it became natural.

If you’ve known him before all of this and he meets up with you while the lockdown is still happening, yeah he has questions cause what the hell. He wants to keep you safe, but if you stay around too long, Urbanshade might get suspicious that they lost an expendable’s signal. It’s already bad enough that they want him dead, and the scrambler can be a dead giveaway if their operatives suddenly can’t contact HQ. Just don’t die while you’re out there, please. It’d also be best if they don’t find out about your much deeper connection with him, so there’s another reason why it’d be difficult to stay in touch with each other in the facility.

He’d try to get in touch with Painter just to let him know about you. Lead the Good People away, shoot down a wall dweller that you haven’t noticed yet, all that stuff. He can’t do much about the bull shark, squiddles, and the anglers but he can try to do something about Pandemonium. Unlike the anglers, it’s not a cloud of smoke and is really just rotting flesh.

Physical touch with him in this case is still complicated. He’s very uncomfortable with it and it may take a while for him to warm up to your touch again. He’s not gonna hit you or anything, god no. If you were anyone else, one he doesn’t know, absolutely. He’ll try to express that. The topic itself is sensitive and he never likes bringing it up.

Assuming Mr. Lopee has taken an interest in you and allows you to keep coming back after every death, Sebastian is more willing to help you. Will he give you a discount though? No, especially not if there are other expendables with you. (he will slip in a battery or two though) It’s also a little less worry for him since death isn’t the end for you, but he wonders just how long it’ll take for Urbanshade to realize one of their prisoners is capable of coming back to life. You’re not supposed to have access to the Ferryman Tokens. The expendable protocol was specifically made so that Urbanshade didn’t have to use so much of them.

If you happen to come across something rare or something he usually sells at a high price, he’d appreciate it if you allowed him to take it off your hands and sell it to one of the other EXR-Ps. More intel from them means a higher chance of escaping (hopefully). You two will likely be stuck here for a while as long as no one else takes the crystal before then.

yeah uh

that’s all i got 🧍

[jjkamochoso]

Hii!! I'm always hanging out in your askbox, sorry about that! I've got another Feitan request! A Feitan x Female Reader who, similar to my other requests, is normally an outgoing person with a girly personality, but behind closed doors she really appreciates a peaceful atmosphere. Maybe the two of them decided to stay together off troupe duty at a rented place or hotel, and she's less bubbly than Feitan is used to her being with the troupe around. Not that she's any less smiley, just a lot more quiet than she usually is. Bonus points if it's raining outside and they can enjoy the sounds of it together in a dimly lit room! Sorry if that was really specific, feel free to change it up if you like!! Thank you!

I LOVE that you’re always requesting omg don’t apologize!! I love writing for you guys and talking with you all about anything and everything so feel free to keep sending in whatever, whenever!!😁🫶❤️ this idea is SO good and I’m grateful you entrusted me with another wonderful request!❤️ thanks so much and I really hope you love this!!

Lightning Strike of Love

Fluff

Feitan Portor x f!reader

Warnings: slight mentions of violence

“So we’ll meet back up in a few days, right?”

“That’s right. Don’t have too much fun on your off time without me,” Phinks replied to you, shooting you a playful wink.

“We have free time?” asked Shizuku, confusion etched on her features.

Machi sighed. “Yes, Shizuku. You’ve know about this for weeks, remember?”

The girl’s big eyes blinked behind her large glasses. “No.”

Machi pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers in exasperation. You giggled as you listened to your fellow Phantom Troupe members talk about what they were doing in the upcoming down time allotted. You were sad that you weren’t going to be spending more time with them because they truly were your best friends and closest thing you had to a family. You were, however, looking forward to the peace and quiet of not being on a mission for once.

“Where you going?”

Feitan, stealthy as ever, made you jump involuntarily with the sound of his voice right near your ear. He snickered at your reaction, cocking his head as he awaited your answer.

“I rented a hotel room in the quiet part of the city. I figured it’s a good place to relax for a bit,” you said. “How about you? What’s your plan?”

“Nothing. I stay here.”

“At the base? By yourself? On our vacation?!” you asked incredulously.

“Tch. What else I supposed to do? I wait for you all to come back.”

“But won’t you be lonely?”

He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Why don’t you stay with me?” you suggested, stunning him completely. You leaned in towards him, smiling sweetly and lowering your voice. “I enjoy your company, Feitan. I’d really miss you if you weren’t there.”

Feitan’s heart wasn’t used to beating as quickly as it was and his cowl wasn’t doing any favors to cool his neck that was burning from your saccharine words. He wanted to accept your offer but if you kept gazing at him with that honeyed expression, he’d never survive the trip.

“Tch. You sappy,” he remarked, shoving his fidgeting hands in his pockets.

You checked the time on your phone. “So, wanna join me? The taxi will be here in about 10 minutes.”

“Fine, I go with you. But I not paying for anything,” he teased.

“Neither am I. A dead guy’s credit card will get you anything you want,” you told him, grinning triumphantly. “Now, go pack! We don’t want to keep the driver waiting!”

A suitcase, a suspiciously small duffel bag, and a taxi ride later and you and Feitan had arrived to the hotel.

“Why so fancy?” Feitan wondered, staring up at the old building with curiosity. Columns and arches were in abundance and the weighty, gold handled doors to the lobby were at least double his height. As you checked in, he took note of the indoor fountain and scoffed.

She out of her mind. This place ridiculous.

“C’mon, Fei! Our room is ready!” you called, beckoning him over. He obliged, still shaking his head at your go big or go home tendencies. You were always so bubbly and were attracted to sickeningly pretty things (hence the choice of hotel). He never understood how you two got along so well; you were polar opposites.

“I’m so excited to see our room!” you squeaked, clasping your hands together in anticipation as the elevator brought you up to your floor. Feitan couldn’t lie, he was looking forward to having you all to himself for the next few days, no longer losing your attention to the other Troupe members. He smiled from under his cowl.

Our room. With my girl.

You pulled out the key and opened the door. When you saw the room, you almost started crying. It was absolutely beautiful! The fluffy beds were calling your name and right after you put your suitcase in the corner, you kicked off your shoes and laid down, closing your eyes and quietly enjoying the silence that had filled the room. After a while you heard Feitan ruffle through his bag before lying down on the other bed. You peeked an eye open and saw he was reading a book.

“Oh, that was a good idea. I should’ve brought a book, too,” you said thoughtfully.

“I have extra in bag. You can get one.”

“Thank you! That’s very kind of you.”

His bag, filled only with books, made you screw your nose up in slight disgust.

“Where are your extra clothes?” you asked, afraid to hear his answer.

“I no bring. These fine for a few days.”

You grabbed the first book you saw, deciding to deal with that situation later. “Trevor Brown? I don’t know any of his works.”

Feitan chuckled. “Just look at it. You might like.”

After a few pages, you had seen enough.

“It’s a little too dark for me,” you explained, putting it back, which caused Feitan to laugh harder. “I know there’s a bookstore around here somewhere. That might be fun to do tomorrow.” You paused. “And I’ll take you shopping.”

After you resumed your position on the bed, Feitan enthralled in his book, you felt a chill blow through you. Since the hotel was older, the windows let in cold air so you were grateful that there was a fireplace in your room. With a click of a button, a warm fire began to roar and you smiled to yourself at how perfectly domestic this whole situation was. Having Feitan all to yourself in a place like this was a dream come true to you. You snuck a glance at the man as he read, his hair slightly hanging over his face, his lips, no longer covered by the cowl, pursed in concentration; he looked handsome beyond belief. Not wanting to disrupt him with your staring, you changed gears and grabbed the comforter from your bed, wrapping it around your shoulders. You then pulled a chair in front of the window and stared at the beauty outside, getting lost in your thoughts.

Feitan, on the other hand, was looking forward to you starting your cheerful chatting like usual. He was patiently waiting to hear your voice chirp up, talking animatedly about things that happened that day or what was on your mind. If anyone else spoke as much as you did, he would’ve sewn their mouths shut, but he tolerated—no, genuinely liked—your incessant jovial jabber.

“Why you no talk?” he asked, pulling you from your daydreams.

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“You never stay quiet, you always talk.”

“Are you complimenting me or insulting me?” you joked, but Feitan was looking at you with such a serious face that you immediately stopped teasing.

“Around the others, all day long, talk, talk, talk,” he said, opening and closing his hand in a gesture to mimic you speaking, “but with me, you silent. Why?”

“That’s easy,” you replied, wearing a soft smile, “you make me feel relaxed. At ease. I love to speak with everyone, yes, and I especially love talking with you, but when it’s just me, or just us, like this… I like the calming environment.”

“Oh.”

Feitan was clearly embarrassed by his assumption, although he did think it was good to learn that you two weren’t total opposites after all, since he cherished his quiet time as well. You were completely unbothered by his question but you still tried to reassure him in your own way without making him feel silly. You picked up the big black book that was resting on the nightstand and took up the spot next to Feitan on his bed, your arm brushing up against his.

You opened the book to a menu. “How about we order some room service?”

After ordering and eating practically everything from the menu, you and Feitan were happy as could be. You two shared nice conversations over dinner, Feitan ecstatic at hearing your bad jokes and sparkling laughter, and you were feeling grateful that you were going to be able to share moments like this with him for the next couple of days. When the last of the empty plates were left outside your hotel room door to be picked up, you locked the door and got your pajamas on since nighttime had almost arrived. You exited the bathroom in your cozy attire and sat on your bed once more, feeling Feitan’s gray eyes watch you the entire time.

“Yes?” you asked, wrapping yourself in the comforter again.

“Nothing,” he blurted out, tearing his gaze from you. You giggled, browsing through a magazine provided by the hotel. You were about to turn on the lamp to continue reading when all of a sudden, you heard tapping on the window. You peeked out and saw rain had begun to fall. The last remnants of the sun’s rays were snuffed out by dark clouds hovering in the sky above you and your stomach fluttered at the change of weather. Hearing the droplets hit the building was sending you into a state of pure bliss and there was only one thing that could make it even better.

“Feitan?”

There was no answer but you knew he was listening.

“Come lay next to me.”

Again, no answer.

“Please? I don’t bite.”

“I do.”

Your eyes found his in the dark but he showed no sign of yielding to your request. “Forget I said anything. I’m sorry for pushing it.”

You weren’t going to force him to do something he didn’t want to do. You knew he had an aversion to any sort of touch that wasn’t tortuous, but you thought for sure he would at least sit on the same bed as you. You sighed wistfully as you leaned against the headboard, wondering if Feitan knew of your romantic feelings for him and this was his way of rejecting them. To your total surprise, you felt your bed dip as another body climbed on the mattress.

“You no apologize, don’t be stupid.”

This time it was Feitan who brushed his arm against yours as he climbed into the warmth of your comforter, leaving goosebumps where he touched. You two sat together, no sounds to be heard except for the falling rain and far off thunder. The hotel room was dimly lit by the fireplace and you were admiring the flicker of flames that highlighted Feitan’s profile. The tranquility you were experiencing was unmatched by anything else on this earth and you wished life could be like this all the time. You didn’t know what possessed you, or what wrath you were about to face, but your body moved on its own in its reach for Feitan’s hand.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” you whispered, your rationality catching up to your actions. Right as you were about to grasp his hand, a loud clap of thunder had you pulling back in shock.

“I no say stop,” said Feitan, closing the space between you by placing his hand on top of yours. You turned to look at him fully and he met your gaze for only a second before studying the fireplace instead. In that second, though, you saw more than just flames blazing in his irises—

You saw love.

Taglist: @killuagirly

[mxdarling]

[send me a pic]

aventurine fluff post, ooc aventurine, could be read as platonic or romantic, reader is trailblazer, gn reader who uses they/them prns, mostly texting format, takes place after 2.2 trailblaze quest, spoiler free!, a bit rushed, lowercase, 1.0k wc, based on a in-game text interaction with aventurine.

[a/n; got a in-game message from aventurine and decided to write for him LOLL I couldn't resist, my writing is so rusty now i;m sorry huhuu]

you were chilling in your room, laying down with your limbs spread out on the bed, doing absolutely nothing. after the events of penacony, you were completely exhausted. the bed was too comfy to get up from, like some magnetic force pulling you into the soft texture of the mattress. it was unusual for you to be doing nothing—doing nothing would make you bored, and you hate being bored, which prompts you to do anything to make that boredom go away. so having your eyes glued to the ceiling was a new feeling to you; you weren't in the mood to bother march and dan heng with your antics, or help pom pom clean the astral express, or talk to mr. yang and himeko, no, none of that. you simply wanted to be in your room, doing nothing.

minutes have passed, and your eyes, void of excitement, continued to stare down at the ceiling. it wasn't interesting, so it was the only thing your eyes could focus on without much effort. seeing as you weren't going to do much for today, the thought of sleeping away time sounded rather pleasant to you, plus the droopiness in your eyes gave you the go signal to drift off and take a nap. as you're lured into the embraces of slumber, you almost gave in until your phone let out a buzzing noise, pulling you out of rest.

your phone stays still on the bedside table, you sit up straight and leaned over towards your phone to take a peek at the notification that has woken you up.

a: [hey friend!] a: [how's life been treating you?]

caught off guard by his sudden message you leaned back and took a second or two to recollect yourself before reaching for your phone and typing out a reply.

t: [uhh been doing okay, hbu?] a: [a new shop that opened up here on penacony—cosmic star.] a: [checking the place out, it's fun, there's a lot of interesting stuff here.] t: [you planning on buying something there?] a: [well sort of, i'm not buying for myself though] a: [actually gonna buy something for you]

you audibly let out a confused 'huh' as you read and reread his message. this is definitely a first. you knew he had the credits to buy the most expensive things imaginable due to being part of the IPC, but you didn't think he'd let you indulge in his wealth beyond his missions.

t: [wait really? like actually??] a: [yeah gonna buy you something, first i need to find what strikes your fancy] a: [there's this "horizon" series pajama is made with a material so light it feels like nothing, warm in winter, cool in summer, and extremely comfortable] a: [wearing it to sleep should considerably lessen the fatigue from travel]

you were tempted to immediately say that was the item you wanted; after all, having some new sets of pajamas would be nice. though you decided to wait until he described the other items to you, perhaps there was something you'd like even more than the pajamas.

a: [speaking of travel, these "night diamond" series gloves, they're handcrafted and limited to ninety pairs galaxy-wide, perfect for parties and special occasions]

you didn't feel much for the gloves, if you were being honest; the ones you already had were fine and very comfortable during your travels through different worlds. still, you kept the gloves in mind in case you had a change of heart.

a: [and then there's this windbreaker from the "unmanned flight" series—a timeless classic!] a: [you can wear it and stand on the edge of a cliff, listening to the flapping of its hem when the cosmic storm hits… it's because of that scene in the movie, "unmanned flight" has now become the go-to choice for a generation of the nameless and their followers.]

the windbreaker sounded fun, you thought, plus you had a feeling that he picked that item because you’re a nameless as well. though you weren't sure if it would be any use to you.

a: [now, which one do you like?]

thinking very carefully between the three items he had describe to you, trying to sort out the pros and cons of each items but you ended up getting tired of doing so—in the end you settle for the vibes each item gave off.

t: [the "horizon" pjs then] a: [that's all? are you sure?] t: [yeah i'm sure] a: [alright, i'll have it delivered to you, just don't mind the extra packages okay?]

raising an eyebrow at his rather vague message, you hear the sound of hurried footsteps approaching. suddenly, your door slides open to reveal a disheveled march out of breath. "hey! why did you order so many packages!?" march whined, still out of breath as she continued to breathe in and out to catch some air. you watched from your bed in shock as she continued to huff out for air. looking back at you, she whined once more. "hey! these are your packages. help me out over here!" quickly you got off the bed and on your feet running after march, and you helped her carry your packages into your room. you wondered if this is what he meant by 'extra packages'.

t: [how many did you ordered!?] a: [what do you mean friend?] t: [i thought you ordered just the pjs??] a: [i did! with a couple of others things of course!] t: [????] t: [what others things??] a: [why don't you check the packages to see for yourself] a: [don't forget to send me a picture!]

with a sigh of disbelief, you turned your attention to the pile of boxes sent by aventurine himself, guess you should start unboxing.

t: [sent 10 attachments.] t: [what do you think?] a: [10 pictures isn't enough my friend but oh well] a: [as expected, you look really cute in those pjs friend!]

PLEASE DO NOT COPY, REPOST, SHARE, TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO OTHER SITES WITHOUT MY PERMISSION + REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED.

[rarityroo]

Goosebumps

Keigo Takami x Gn! Reader

Hi, I made this while listening to Goosebumps by Travis Scott & Kendrick very great song I 🫶🏻 Kendrick, unfortunately this is kinda long at least in my opinion. Reader and Keigo are in a barley situationship also the theres some sexual tension towards the end. Enjoy!

Your relationship wasn't anything serious, hell it wasn't even a relationship by most people's standards. Hawks was always painted as a player or a bad boy, with a big ego and the raw skill to prove it, if only they knew. I mean they wouldn't be wrong, he was talented and a good hero at least at the start. He puffed his chest acting like the biggest man in the room. In some ways he was, he was the number two hero after all.

But being popular and wearing a mask doesn't stop him from being vulnerable. Behind it all he wasn't Hawks, he was Keigo, and that's the part of him only you can see. Despite his act, you know he's completely smitten by you. But, you seem to effortlessly glide through life although not completely unfazed by his advances. Every interaction with you sends his heart aflutter, yet you remain unfazed, your demeanor never faltering. You know about guys like him, at least you thought you did. It's like a game of cat and mouse, with Hawks desperately trying to win your affection while you remain just out of reach.

He seems to go to great lengths to impress you, it's honestly embarrassing, in a cute way, whether it's showering you with gifts and compliments or acting cocky to impress. Yet, you always seem to brush it off with a nonchalant smile, leaving him both frustrated and captivated by you.

The Pro-hero gala was in full swing, a display of glamour that seemed to reflect Japan's admiration for its mighty protectors. Keigo, as expected, was the center of attention, effortlessly charming the crowd with his very presence. As you made your way through the bustling venue, you couldn't help but be amazed at the sight. It was rare for someone like you, who worked behind the scenes as a secretary at a pro-hero agency, to be invited to such an exclusive event. But tonight, you were ready to make the most of it. And then, amidst the sea of capes, masks, and hero’s partners, you spotted him—Keigo, looking every bit as striking as he did in the headlines. He was surrounded by admirers, his trademark smirk never faltering as he regaled them with tales of his latest exploits. "Yeah, but I can't take all the credit those little sidekicks put in the work." He says as his admirers look at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

You tried to walk by without catching too much attention especially not his, sadly that wasn't going to be an option for you. One of his fangirls pushed you trying to get closer to him, causing you to be chest-to-chest with Keigo. Damn it.

Hawks looked down at you in shock, his eyes lighting up with recognition. "Well, if it isn't [Your Name]," he said, his voice laced with a hint of surprise. "What's someone like you doing at a fancy shindig like this?"

You chuckled, feeling a surge of cockiness despite your earlier nerves. "Oh, you know, just thought I'd mingle with the heroes for a change," you replied casually, trying to keep your composure in the presence of the number two hero. To your surprise, the Hawks didn't seem to mind you bumping into him. Instead, he flashed you a charming grin. "Well, I'm glad you decided to grace us with your presence," he said, his tone playful. "I was starting to think tonight couldn't get any better, but here you are," he said, his voice low and smooth.

You couldn't help but laugh at his playful charm. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Hawks," you teased, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his words. He leaned in closer, the scent of his cologne enveloping you. "Everywhere, you say? I might have to test that theory," he replied, his breath brushing against your ear in a way that sent shivers down your spine. Your heart raced at the suggestive tone in his voice, but you didn't back down, you couldn't. "Well, you'll have to catch me first," you shot back, a playful challenge in your tone. You couldn't let him win too easily.

Hawks grinned, his confidence never wavering. "Oh, I intend to," he said, his eyes locking with yours in a silent promise.

And with that, he extended his hand, "Care to dance?"

And just like that, you found yourself swept up in the gala, dancing the night away with Hawks by your side. No, not Hawks, Keigo, the night was shaping up to be far more than just another run-in with Keigo. Tonight, you weren't just a bystander in his world—you were a part of it, if only for a fleeting moment.

[happybird16]

Gojo x reader but not necessarily romantic. Silly fast food themed fluff but also i'm a little bit evil.

"What did you just say?" you ask incredulously, unable to hide your surprise at Satoru's admission.

The two of you are on your way back from a mission, the thrill of the battle still lingering in the air. Satoru had handled it himself with his usual confidence, while you had watched, impressed by his skill. You walk along a bustling sidewalk, the aroma of fast-food restaurants wafting through the air. Satoru, engrossed in his flip phone, has casually dropped a bombshell, and you can't ignore his words.

Satoru's head jerks up, his striking blue eyes meeting yours, confusion evident in his expression. "What? McDonald's? I've never had it," he replies, his tone laced with nonchalance as he emphasizes his words with an uneven shrug. He then returns to typing on his phone, a smirk playing on his lips. You can almost picture him boasting to Geto about how swiftly he dealt with the spirit.

"How is that even possible?" you exclaim, unable to comprehend the idea. "Everyone’s had McDonald's. The stores are everywhere; it's kind of unavoidable, even if the food is garbage." You playfully elbow him in the side, a mischievous smirk on your lips. "What, is it too cheap for your fancy rich-boy palate?"

"Nah," Gojo chuckles, elbowing you back in a playful manner. The two of you continue walking, navigating the busy Tokyo streets toward the train station. "Wasn't allowed to eat any of that stuff growing up."

"Really?" you inquire, memories of the delicious meals your childhood friend's mothers used to prepare flooding your mind. Satoru’s shoulders stiffen, his grip on his phone tightening involuntarily. You realize he wasn't allowed to have friends either. "Uh, forget I asked."

He looks away, his gaze fixed on the distant skyline. "They had me on a specific diet," he confesses quietly. "Even as a kid."

Despite his confident demeanor, it's easy to forget how little agency Satoru had over his own life. The realization makes you sad, something cold filling your chest. "You never wanted to try anything else? Ice cream? KFC?"

“Not really,” Satoru shrugs unevenly, though you sense he’s not being entirely truthful. “Sometimes I could convince the chef to make something sweet for me. I’ve had ice cream; she would make that occasionally if I asked.” His lips stretch into a forced smile, but beneath the surface, there’s a hint of profound sadness, casting a shadow over his features.

"Yeah, but that's not the same as ice cream from a truck. Or a milkshake. It's about the experience.” Suddenly, an idea strikes you, and you grasp Satoru’s bicep tightly, determination in your eyes. "Hey, come on, I just had an idea!"

"Wha- hey," Satoru squawks in surprise as you tug him behind you, trying to keep pace. "Where are we going?" he asks, his curiosity piqued.

You shoot Satoru an enthusiastic grin, your mind racing with excitement. “We’re going to fix this McDonald’s-shaped gap in your life experience!” you declare, leading him back along the sidewalk. Pulling out your phone, you quickly shoot out a couple of texts as you rush along the sidewalk. “Plus, it's getting late and I'm starving!”

“I don't know-” Satoru starts to protest half heartedly. He's a lot larger and stronger than you, you know for a fact that he could resist your pull or break your grip if he was really against it, but he doesn't. There's excitement blooming in his features, his smile wide and genuine.

“Come on, I'm paying. You can get whatever sounds interesting.” You see him start to protest again. “I don't think mommy and daddy will be happy seeing the charge on their credit card.”

“Fair point,” Satoru concedes. “Fine, but I'm paying you back somehow.”

You laugh, enjoying his playful banter. “Deal! Maybe you can repay me with some special training sessions,” you suggest with a teasing glint in your eyes. Satoru raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your proposition.

As you step inside McDonald's, the inviting aroma of fast food fills the air. Satoru looks around, his expression one of confusion, as if the entire place is completely foreign to him. Following your lead, he joins you in the rather large line forming along the front of the store, his curiosity piqued by the menu.

"You're definitely going to want a burger. And some fries. I'll let you have some of my chicken nuggets," you suggest, guiding him through the menu choices. His enthusiasm grows as he places an order for a variety of items.

Since it's busy, it takes a little while to get your order once it's placed. The two of you find an empty booth along the back of the store, trying to fit comfortably. It's almost comical how poorly Satoru fits in the booth, his knees banging against the bottom of the table.

"Hey guys," Shoko greets you coolly, sliding into the booth next to you and promptly picking at the fries before you can even have one.

"You guys got here fast," you reply, a hint of amusement in your tone.

"You say that as if the two of you didn't both text us to come," Geto replies, sliding in on Satoru’s side with a playful grin.

"Such a momentous occasion deserves an audience," you reply with a smirk, the shared laughter and camaraderie filling the small corner of the bustling restaurant. “Now the whole class is here!”

Satoru grins, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he awkwardly settles into the cramped booth, making room for Geto to fit better. The table is cluttered with an array of fast-food delights, from burgers and fries to chicken nuggets and shakes. Despite the limited space, there’s an air of camaraderie as you all dig into the feast.

“Aren’t you guys going to order too?” Satoru asks, his mouth full of fries, his eyes widening almost comically after the first bite. “Oh my god, that’s good.”

Geto snorts loudly, burying his face in his hand, trying to contain his laughter.

“Did you think all of this was for the two of you?” Shoko smirks, teasingly raising an eyebrow.

“They texted me their orders. Why do you think I ordered four milkshakes?” you chime in, a playful glint in your eyes.

Satoru pouts, although the effect is stifled by the fact that he’s still chewing on a mouthful of fries. “So I could try a bunch of flavors?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll try our drinks no matter what,” Geto remarks, struggling to keep a straight face as he watches Satoru’s excitement.

Shoko, sitting next to you, smirks playfully. “So, Gojo, what’s the verdict? Enjoying your first McDonald’s experience?”

Satoru takes a triumphant bite of his burger, chewing thoughtfully before grinning widely. “I have to admit, it’s not bad at all. These nuggets are surprisingly addictive,” he says, his enthusiasm contagious.

Geto chuckles, raising an eyebrow. “I never thought I’d see the day when Satoru Gojo indulges in fast food. Truly, a historic moment. I’m taking you to KFC next.”

Satoru nods distractedly, his eyes lighting up with delight as he sucks down his Oreo milkshake with fervor, clearly lost in the bliss of the moment. He looks like a small child, thriving on nothing but greasy food, sugar, and attention. “I think I've died a second time,” he quips between sips, a playful glint in his eyes.

You all share a laugh, the atmosphere remaining light and easygoing despite the passage of time. The evening stretches on, filled with laughter, stories, and the clinking of soda cups, creating memories that will stay with you long after the night is over.

“I’m surprised you guys came,” you comment much later, your voice laced with gratitude. Except for some of the fries, the food has pretty much been finished, and the table is bare but for wrappers and cups at this point. Satoru is still working on the remains of Geto’s milkshake, having already finished off yours and Shoko’s. The sun is low, casting a warm orange glow through the windows. The store is mostly empty now, and the initial energy and excitement have faded. “You two always seem so busy lately.”

"It is our final year," Shoko replies, her voice gentle yet weary. You notice the bags under her eyes have grown larger since the last time you saw her. "Though, to be honest, I mostly came because he's probably going to regret this in a couple of hours, and I want to be there to laugh at him."

The loud, airy straw-sucking abruptly cuts to silence. "Huh?" Satoru asks, his confusion evident.

Shoko replies flatly, "You're probably going to shit yourself later."

"Nuh-uh!" Satoru protests loudly, and the two of them engage in a playful squabble, their banter filling the air.

Concerned, you turn your attention to Geto. He’s seemed off lately, distracted, and it takes a couple kicks to his leg to gain his attention. "Don't you have a big mission tomorrow morning? In a village a couple of hours away?" you inquire, your worry palpable in your voice.

"Yeah," he admits, offering a tired smile while absentmindedly scratching the back of his head. "I should probably already be in bed, but..." He pauses thoughtfully, his gaze shifting among the group. "...this is worth it."

"Yeah," you hum in agreement, feeling a deep sense of camaraderie with your friends. These moments remind you of the profound bond you share, forged through battles and shared experiences. As you continue to chat and enjoy the remnants of your meal, you can't help but revel in the profound sense of contentment that washes over you. Surrounded by friends, indulging in a simple pleasure like fast food, you savor the moment, cherishing the genuine connections that make life's challenges easier to bear.

You never want this to end.

[softquietsteadylove]

Hello! 🫣

I had this idea: thenamesh academic rivals?

Gil is a top student, mostly getting a mark of 100. but whenever Thena asks her rival what he got he always says a lower point (for example he says 97 and she got a 98) , hiding his exam behind his back 🫣

Thena glared at the chair next to hers as it was taken.

"Uh," Gilgamesh attempted - yet again - to strike up a casual conversation, "hey."

Thena tapped her papers on her desk, waiting for the professor to come in, as well as tell them how they would be conducting the labs with their students for the day. "I trust you've already looked up what your score for the mid-term was."

"What was yours?"

Thena clenched her teeth in her jaw. It didn't matter what she got, he would get just the same, if not better. She had worked her whole life to become a historical scholar, as was expected of her. And this guy always managed to stand shoulder to shoulder with her, seemingly without so much as blinking. "I achieved 98. I believe the two point demerit was due to my oversight in the essay section."

Gilgamesh merely nodded, offering a nervous kind of smile. "Ah, well, the essay parts are always the toughest."

She slid her eyes over to him. She didn't truly wish to know, but she also couldn't resist knowing. "And you?"

"Ninety..." he trailed off, as he always did when they were discussing their academic performance. She glared at him to finish, "seven?"

Thena smiled, although she did her best not to appear smug and unbecoming. "An admirable mark."

"Thanks," he laughed off, like it was nothing. Professor Stoss was a famously tough professor despite his young age, and getting any good mark from him was already a feat.

Thena did somewhat believe that the affability Gilgamesh possessed made people go easier on him. And even then, she had to concede that he was intelligent and competent in their field of study. It infuriated her.

She had the weight of the world on her in the expectation to perform. She was even a teaching assistant entirely to advance her studies and career. Otherwise, the interaction with other students was far too much for her own preference.

But Gilgamesh said he was good in historical studies merely because his mother had possessed a fondness for them. Thena devoted hours to studying and research and Gilgamesh worked part time at a diner close to the university. And yet he used to consistently beat her in every assignment and quiz and test.

Only in recent months did he seem to be coming just a single point under her, and even that was not enough. Thena had already heard from her own family how outstanding this no-name student was and how those in their field of work were asking about him.

"Did you...do anything this weekend?"

Thena looked over, somewhat astonished that he was still trying to make conversation with her.

He shrugged, tapping his fingers anxiously on the cover of his textbook. "I heard there was a fancy party for the TAs, I mean. I assumed you went."

Thena frowned. There was indeed an event for the faculty and their chosen assistants--those who showed promise enough to earn extra credits in teaching. She hadn't attended because she felt no need (nor did Phastos, in her defense). "I assumed you had gone."

"Oh, no," Gilgamesh smiled down at the desk. "I take the late shifts on weekends. They're long, but we don't get many people, so I can get studying or work done, y'know?"

Thena swallowed her words. She had all this envy for his natural skill, but his work was just as legitimate as hers. And he worked to pay his rent, living off campus, while she lived in a dorm for female academic leaders. Gilgamesh stole his time studying as opposed to building his entire life around it.

"You deserve to enjoy yourself a little."

She looked at him again, still frowning. "I beg your pardon?"

"S-Sorry." He went back to staring down at the tattered edges of his textbook. But she kept looking at him, waiting for him to elaborate. The silence worked, dragging his words out of him. "I just mean...you work really hard, right? You're always top of the class. You should be allowed to have some fun, sometimes."

She did work hard. She devoted every waking moment of her life to her studies, and the one person who continuously thwarted her attempts at perfection was the one to point it out?

It would be easier to be angry with him if he were dislikeable in any way. As it stood now, all she had to go on was that he always beat her in academic achievement, and so effortlessly at that. But even with that, she had to concede that he worked just as hard, if not harder than her for it! And it was infuriating!

"Sorry," he repeated, looking away from her glowering at him.

She sighed. "No, I'm sorry. It was an innocent question."

He looked at her, completely astonished. She would like to snap at him for thinking she couldn't even just apologise for being overly adversarial with him. But that would defeat the point. "Well, I know you don't really like small talk."

It was that she wasn't good at it. She angled herself in her chair, destroying her perfect posture to face him somewhat more properly. "Should you not have also...enjoyed yourself? When do you have time to socialise if you are either studying or working?"

"Well, I have friends I can see in my other classes," he shrugged.

Oh. Yes, of course. Thena felt her hackles raise again at the idea that she was so unfamiliar with the idea of having friends in any of their classes. But she was trying to be nicer to him.

"But," he offered another sheepish smile, bending closer to whisper like children trading a secret in grade school. "This class is my favourite."

Thena just stared at him. She supposed that made sense. He always said he had the same like of history and classics that his mother had. But the idea that she was included in the categorisation of his favourite anything; a warm feeling spread in her chest.

"The lovebirds are here already."

Students began filtering into the small lecture hall, facing them seated at the front of the room. The one who made the comment plunked down close to the door. Another one looked in their direction, "don't you two ever sleep in?"

They got jokes and insinuations that they were together all the time. Apparently, everyone could see some kind of brewing, invisible tension between the two of them. Thena always found it ridiculous.

"We don't-!"

The student startled, as did the rest of the room slowly taking their seats. The declaration was sharp, and loud--far louder than was needed for a room this size.

Thena felt warmth rush to her cheeks, first for the outburst, then the realisation that it seemed overeager to deny something that wasn't even said. She cleared her throat, turning towards the board (since she had shot to her feet in her denial). "Sit down and start copying."

The student body present groaned but obeyed. Gil was the far preferred teaching assistant because he didn't scare anyone, and even if they under-performed, he had kind encouragements as opposed to scathing condemnations.

"Guys, come on, you heard her."

Thena barely glanced over her shoulder. There was nothing new about their students complaining about her teaching methods. But Gil usually didn't take quite so stern a tone with them. Even in her defense.

He peeked at her with a smile, perhaps hoping to show that he was indeed her ally and not her enemy.

Thena whipped her head forward again. So long as they were pitted against each other in any setting, he was no friend of hers. No matter how winsome his smile was.

[melonsharks]

i'm shark, but you can also call me gabu! please use he/they pronouns for me! i am an adult.

I don't mind spam reblogs/spam likes. do what you will!

FOLLOWING FROM: @sharkboyz (main blog / all my reblogs go here)

I AM 1/2 OF: @ghostsharkpress!!

---

ZINE I'VE RUN: @bntzine @mcrvenomzine @frenreyzine

NOW RUNNING: @goromcomzine

MY SHOP | MY INRPNT

MY CARRD

↓ more under the cut ↓

FAQ (may be updated!):

Where else can I find you?

twitter, instagram.

what art program do you use?

procreate!

what brushes do you use?

i use diana marmol's soft brush for everything, usually on 40% opacity (and i make it pretty big) and then i polish it with the eraser tool (using the same brush). i use this whole pack to some extent, but soft brush is my go-to for literally anything. opaque is the second most used brush. usually for clean lines on my merch, or flat coloring.

do you take requests?

sometimes. usually only when I ask, and I usually only ask on instagram!

are your commissions open?

i usually say yes if you ask. im not good at advertising them LOL

can i use your art?

im ok with my art being used as pfps, wallpapers, banners, in edits, as long as i'm credited (ideally with a link back to my account!) and if you DO make an edit with my art, please tag me, I'd love to see it... NOT okay with my art being reposted. Do not repost my art without permission or credit.

can i draw/write fanart/fanfic of your aus?

YES!!! this is always ok, I am always so honored when people do this. Just tag me, so I can see it and gush about it! :D

are you ever bringing back [merch item]?

this completely depends on demand. the answer is always maybe! unless its my first fr-nrey charm, then the answer is no.

will you ever draw for [fandom] again?

i draw whatever strikes my fancy at any given moment. i might draw for an old fandom again someday, but if you're following me for ONE thing, you may want to adjust your expectations :') i have a lot of interests and my hyperfixations come and go.

im sorry for spam liking/spam reblogging, etc.

hey. look me in the eye. its ok. i love you

tags i mainly use (may be updated!):

#gabuart - art tag

#asks - ask tag

#melonshop - shop announcements

#melonmerch - merch showcase

[all-the-things-2020]

A Year of Fandom Crossovers : January

Title: “I Need a Pilot”

Pedro Character: Frankie “Catfish” Morales

Fandom Crossover: Star Wars

Notes: This is the first entry in my Year of Fandom Crossovers! This one is a straight forward adventures placing Frankie in the Star Wars universe. I took some elements of the plot of Triple Frontier and dumped them onto a planet in a galaxy far, far away. There’s a little Stormpilot thrown in for good measure. Hope you enjoy! Thanks as always to @oonajaeadira for creating the @yearofcreation2023

“I need a pilot.”

Franki sighed. How many times had he heard that line? The young man in front of him seemed earnest and a bit naive, something not often seen in this backwater town. What the hell, he thought.

“How much and how far?”

The man blinked. “Um, I don’t have any credits on me, but …”

Franki shook his head. “I don’t fly for free. I got a kid.” He thought of the baby, just able to sit up on her own now.

“I can get the credits later,” the young man said. There was something urgent and strangely calming in his dark brown eyes. “This is important.” He looked around furtively, then lowered his voice. “I’m with the Resistance. Things went bad and … my pilot is out of commission. I need to get him off planet and to medical assistance right away.”

“I don’t fly off planet,” Franki said, taking a drink of his ale. “I’m a hopper pilot. Ferried troops and supplies for the Takaians during the civil war.” He took another long drink. The war had been his ticket out of this skughole town, or so he’d thought. Instead, it had just broken him and his friends and dumped them right back in Damphi.

“Thanks okay,” the young man said. “We just need to get to our rendezvous point and someone will pick us up. But we can’t get there without help.”

“And your friends can’t land here in Damphi because?”

“Because the place is crawling with First Order after we — I — messed up,” the man said miserably. “They’d shoot down anything that looks halfway Resistance. Which is why we need discreet transport. Hoppers are in and out of here all the time. Just … just fly us where we need to go and you’ll be rewarded. General Organa will pay you personally.”

Franki shook his head. “I don’t want to hear about generals or Resistance,” he hissed. “I don’t want to hear about you and your pilot. I got my own troubles.”

“Fifteen thousand,” the young man said. “I swear it. Just get us to the rendezvous.”

Fifteen thousand was a lot of money. Enough to pay off some debts, get back on somewhat solid footing, maybe even start up that little business his wife was always talking about. You’re gonna regret this, he told himself.

“Deal. Name’s Franki but my friends call me Catfish. Long story. Pleasure to do business with you.”

They shook hands. “Finn,” the young man said. “When can we leave?”

Franki shrugged. “Soon as I finish my ale, I guess.”

Finn beamed at him and Franki swallowed a grin. Kriffin’ idealistic kid. He has no idea what the real world is like. Hope the Resistance has more hardened soldiers than him or they’ve got no chance.

**************************************************************

When Finn and his pilot friend entered the hangar, Franki did a double take. He glanced around, expecting Benni and the others to jump out and start laughing. “If you’re messing with me …,” he said, trailing off as they got closer and he saw that the injured pilot was not his friend San-Ti. The resemblance was striking, though.

“I know I’m messed up right now, but I’m not that ugly, am I?,” the pilot croaked. He was clearly in pain but still able to joke.

“Just thought you were someone else for a moment,” Franki muttered. “Let’s get this over with. My hopper’s right over here.”

He led them to the battered vehicle, a decades out of date Model 7G planet-hopper. It wasn’t fancy, but it got the job done and M-98 kept it in working order. Mostly. When the droid wasn’t in the shop itself.

“The left rotor will need maintenance within the next one hundred hours of flight,” M-98 said morosely as they walked up the ramp. “And I’m keeping an eye on the second fuel injector.”

“That’s fine, Ninety-Eight,” Franki said. “This should be an easy trip. Out and back. Like shooting womp rats in a barrel.” He turned to his passengers. “I’ve got a co-pilot’s seat but not much else. Will your friend be okay here in the cargo area?”

“My name is Poe,” the injured pilot said. “And I’ll be fine anywhere, as long as you can get us to our rendezvous in time.” He winced and Finn immediately helped him to the floor.

“Take it easy, buddy,” Finn said gently. “We’ll get you in a bacta tank before you know it.” He looked up at Franki and his warm brown eyes belied his words. The kid was worried.

“Just give me a few minutes to warm up the engines and get the coordinates into the nav computer,” Franki said. “Then we’ll be off.”

“Six point five two minutes,” M-98 chimed in. “I told you that injector is acting up.”

**************************************************************

Flying in a hopper was nothing like flying in a spaceship. For one thing, it was noisier; Franki hadn’t been off world much but he found it eerily quiet when he did. He was used to the rattle of loose panels, the roar of the combustion engine, the thwup-thwup-thwup of the rotor blades. Hopper flying was also rougher than flying in space. Air turbulence combined with the idiosyncrasies of a machine that still had only half of its original parts meant that there was no such thing as flying straight between two points.

“It feels like this thing is falling apart!” Finn yelled. Franki had offered him the second set of headphones, so they could communicate easily, but he’d refused, insisting he wouldn’t be able to hear Poe if he needed anything.

“She’ll hold,” Franki shouted back. “Just sit down and relax.” He kept one eye on the horizon ahead and the other on the flickering blip on his nav screen.

Finn leaned forward, obscuring his view of the nav screen, and Franki fought the urge to shove the younger man out of the way. Be nice to the paying customer, he reminded himself.

“Forgive me, Catfish,” Finn said, “but aren’t we taking the long way around? We’re heading for Bezerr.”

“I know,” Franki said. “Can’t fly directly there because of the mountains. And this is a hopper. Got to refuel every couple of hours. Follow the supply stations.” He indicated the string of green dots their flight path connected.

“It’s just …” Finn shook his head and pulled the headset on. “Look,” he said, once he was on the comm link. “I don’t know if Poe has that much time. He’s getting weaker.” The concern in the young man’s eyes tugged at Franki’s heart. He knew what it was like to lose a comrade in arms. Especially because of a mission gone off the rails.

“Can’t do it,” Franki said. “This route is as fast as I can go.”

“I’ll double your fee,” Finn said. “Triple it, whatever. Just get us to Bezerr before he … look, you said you have a kid, right? So you have a spouse.” Franki nodded. “So you know how I feel. What if your wife — what if that was her back there and it was your fault she was hurt and …”

“I feel for you, kid, but it’s not doable. We’d have to fly over the kriffin’ Pyrshis! Tallest mountain range on the planet. This bucket of bolts isn’t built for those altitudes.”

“Please,” Finn pleaded. “I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose him.”

Franki sighed. He always was a sucker for big, brown eyes. “Okay, we’ll refuel at Brosia Station. I gotta do some calculations before we attempt it anyway. Better to do them on solid ground.”

“Thank you!” Finn said.

“Triple the fee,” Franki said as he adjusted the nav coordinates to take them to Brosia. You’re really going to regret this, Catfish.

***************************************************************************

“Are you certain?” Franki asked Ninety-Eight.

“Ninety-seven point nine five three percent certain,” the droid replied.

“Not good enough,” Franki said, banging his fist on the console. “We need to get this as close to perfect as possible.”

“I’m sorry, Catfish, but there are too many variables to reach a higher percentage of certainty. Nine seven point nine five three is the best I can do.”

“Almost ninety-eight percent sounds pretty good to me,” Finn chimed in.

Franki shook his head. “Look, kid, we’re not just going across the mountains, we’re going over them. That shortens our range considerably. These hoppers are built to cover distance, not fly high. We get up there where the atmosphere thins out and the engine can’t handle it if we have too heavy a load. So we have to make sure our tanks are empty enough to get enough lift to get over the peaks, but full enough that we have enough juice to get to Bezerr. Plus the rotors aren’t built for thin air, and this thing isn’t pressurized. We get over four and a half clicks and we’re going to start feeling the lack of oxygen. We hit five and a half, we’re getting light headed. Same with the engine. Can’t burn fuel as well when there’s less oxygen. This has to be as near perfect as we can get it or we crash up there.”

He pointed out the pitted windscreen at the soaring crags of the Pyrshi mountains. There was always ice and snow up there. The tallest peak topped out at close to six clicks high. Nothing lived up there except snow fleas and snow spiders and the occasional lost bird.

“If we don’t go soon, Poe will die,” Finn said. “One hundred percent certainty. So I say ninety-eight percent sounds good enough.”

“You’re paying,” Franki said. “Ninety-Eight, double check the tank before we take off.”

“Roger that,” the droid said. “And it might be a good idea to offer up an entreaty to any deities you gentlemen may be particularly fond of, just in case.”

“I’m going to let San-Ti’s cousin remove your humor module if you keep this up,” Franki grumbled. “Don’t know why I let you talk me into installing one in the first place.”

**************************************

The engines were straining. Franki could hear it and, more importantly, feel it. They were slowly climbing the crest of the mountains, aiming for a saddle that was only about twice the width of the hopper, but the lowest point where they could cross over and begin the descent toward Bezerr.

“How’s our fuel?”

Ninety-Eight hesitated a fraction of a second. “Close,” the droid said.

“What the kriff does ‘close’ mean? Close to empty? Close to what you calculated?”

“The fuel level is approximately what I calculated we would need to accomplish the crossing,” Ninety-Eight said primly. “A few milliliters short but close enough.”

Franki shook his head. He hated when the droid was vague with him. It meant things were not good. “How about the rotors?”

“Left rotor is showing signs of wear, as noted previously,” Ninety-Eight said. “Still within safety parameters, though.”

Which means it’s ready to break, Franki translated. He wasn’t even going to ask about the injectors.

“We’re almost there,” he heard Finn say. The young man was in the back with his friend, who was looking much paler than when they’d arrived. Franki was fairly certain the man was bleeding internally; he needed a bacta tank and a good surgeon as soon as possible.

Franki steadied the hopper as they neared the saddle. The winds were tricky around the glacier carved peaks and he fought the stick to keep her steady. “Almost there,” he said to himself. “Just hold together, baby, you can do it.”

They slowly rose above the level of the saddle and Franki could see the rolling plains beyond the steep escarpment of the mountains. As the hopper crept through the pass, a gust of wind slammed down from the cirque above. The left rotor cracked and broke into several pieces. At the same time, the engine coughed and sputtered, then went silent. The hopper tilted swiftly to the right.

“Brace yourselves!” Franki yelled. “We’re going down!”

He controlled the fall as best he could. It was nearly impossible to glide in a hopper, so he couldn’t guide it much, but he kept the nose up so at least when they crashed, they wouldn’t go down face first. A boulder caught the side rails and flipped the hopper sideways before it slammed to the ground, the right rotor still valiantly trying to spin even as it crumpled against granite.

**************************************************

Franki wiped the blood out of his eyes and took off his headset. He’d cracked his forehead against something, but it didn’t appear to be life threatening. “Finn!,” he called. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Finn said. He appeared battered but mostly intact.

“How about your friend?”

“Not great, but he’s still with us,” Finn said.

“And I am still functional, if anyone cares,” Ninety-Eight chimed in.

“Good,” Franki said. “Because I need you to assess the damage and see what we can salvage. We can’t get airborne but at least it’s all downhill from here. Maybe we can rig up some sort of conveyance to get us down.” He could feel the thinness of the air in his lungs. “It’ll take us too long to walk or climb.”

While Ninety-Eight surveyed the wreckage, Franki dug out the first aid kit and cleaned himself up. He had a cut on his forehead and a few slivers of glass in his arm, but otherwise he was just bruised up.

“So, we’re alive and we have a droid,” he said, after handing the kit to Finn. “No broken limbs, but we have one non ambulatory person to deal with. We’ll need some sort of litter to carry him on. And it’s going to get cold real fast up here. If we can’t get moving soon, we’ll need a fire or something else to keep warm.” His emergency survival training was coming back to him in bits and pieces. During the war, he’d mostly dealt with the aftermath of these things, swooping in to extract soldiers from tricky situations. This was the first time he’d been on the bad end of the deal.

********************************************************

Ninety-Eight cobbled together a small wagon out of the wreckage, as well as a rudimentary pulley system that could be used to lower it down the sheerest slopes if need be. “I can pull the wagon with all three of you humans in it,” the droid said. “It will be a bumpy ride but faster than your own feet.”

They settled Poe into the center of the wagon. Franki let Finn sit near Poe’s head, while he wedged himself into the back of the wagon. It was a tight fit, but at least they wouldn’t rattle around this way. Ninety-Eight set off at a steady but sensible pace, traversing the rocky ground as smoothly as it could.

Franki was uncomfortable, but not because of the cramped conditions. It was the quiet murmur of conversation between Finn and Poe that he couldn’t help but overhear. It was very clear that the two men were more than just friends and comrades in arms. Franki wasn’t a demonstrative person; public displays of affection made him squirm. He pulled his cap further down over his eyes, which made him wince as the brim scraped over the fresh cut, and feigned sleep, trying to give the two as much privacy as possible. Which wasn’t much, considering that Poe’s feet were basically in his lap.

“If I don’t make it,” Poe said at one point.

“You’re gonna make it,” Finn said.

“I know, but just in case … tell Rey to take care of Bee-Bee for me, okay?”

“Oh, so I don’t get custody of the kid?”

“You’re a mediocre pilot, babe. He’s an astromech droid. She can give him adventures.”

“I’m a good pilot. I just look like bantha poodoo next to you and Rey.”

“You keep telling yourself that, buddy.”

Franki suppressed a chuckle. Like an old married couple, he thought. But that made him think of his wife and baby waiting at home and the amusement faded away.

*************************************************

It took the better part of a day to reach the plains, but it would have taken them much, much longer on foot. Franki’s forehead had crusted over and itched like hell, he had a pounding headache and his left leg was asleep from being folded underneath him for so long, but otherwise he was in good shape. The same could not be said for Poe; the man had drifted into unconsciousness halfway down the mountainside.

Finn had a handheld comm link and kept trying to contact their ship, but the steep canyon walls were not conducive to radio frequencies. Once they were on the flat, he tried it again and finally received a response.

“Yeah, we’re near the foot of the mountains,” he yelled — the connection was staticky and intermittent — “about three clicks south of the river. Can you get a fix? Yeah? Okay, we’ll stand by.” He thumbed off the comm. “They’re coming to get us,” he said. “It won’t be long.” He smoothed the hair off Poe’s forehead, where it clung in damp curls.

“I’m not sure how much of the fee they’ll have on hand,” he said to Franki. “But I promise I’ll get the rest to you as soon as I can. There’s a bank in Damphi, right?”

“Yeah,” Franki said. “I’ve got an account.” Not much in it, but I’ve got an account.

“Will you be able to get back okay? Without the hopper?”

“I’ll hitch a ride with one of the other hopper pilots. You just worry about him.”

Soon, a nondescript transport descended from the sky, landing a few hundred meters away. A Twi’lek and a human hurried out with a floating stretcher and whisked Poe inside, a med droid hovering along beside them. “Wait here,” Finn said. “I’ll get your money.”

Franki stretched as he waited, idly watching Ninety-Eight tighten the bolts on the wagon. “It’ll be worth more than the scrap value if I spruce it up a bit,” the droid said.

Finn emerged from the transport with a pouch in his hand. “It’s only six thousand,” he said. “That’s all we have aboard. But I swear you’ll get the rest. Triple the original fee. Forty-five thousand.”

Franki took the pouch, weighing it in his hand. New Republic credits by the feel of it, maybe a few other currencies mixed in. Odds were this was all he was going to get from this disaster of a job, but he’d take it. “Take care of your friend,” he said. “And good luck with the resistance thing.”

Finn looked him in the eyes. “Thank you, Catfish. May the Force be with you.” He pulled Franki into a quick, fierce hug and then ran back to the transport, which lifted off a few minutes later.

“A new hopper will cost at least thirty-seven thousand,” Ninety-Eight said flatly.

“I know,” Franki said.

“If he comes through, you’ll be okay.”

“I know.”

“If he doesn’t, you’re kriffed.”

Franki glared at the droid. “Do you want me to have your personality removed?” He climbed back into the wagon. “Let’s go. If we get into town before nightfall, maybe I can catch a flight out and won’t have to waste money on a room.”

*****************************************

Damphi looked almost pretty in the morning light. Franki had caught a ride with Starsi, who was a good pilot but could talk the hind leg off a rancor. They had flown through the night, stopping twice to drop off cargo at poorly lit depots in the middle of nowhere. No wonder he’s flying at night, Franki thought. Still, it was a ride, and Starsi didn’t even charge him anything, simply glad for the company.

They’d sold the wagon to a scrap dealer near the landing strip. Ninety-Eight was still sulking because it thought its creation was worth more, but Franki had wanted to get out quickly. With six thousand, three hundred and ninety credits in his pocket — and no hopper — he was a lot further in the hole than he’d been a few days ago, but there was lots of work in Damphi, even if it wasn’t as fulfilling as flying a hopper. They’d be okay.

When they got home, Ninety-Eight went straight to its charging station. Franki tiptoed into the bedroom but it was empty. A note was on the table beside the bed. “Got an early shift at the factory, thanks to Emmi. Dropped the baby off with my mother. See you when I get off.”

At least I get a little break before I have to explain my latest screw-up, Franki thought as he collapsed into bed.

After a few hours sleep, he found some food and headed for the bank. Might as well pay a few bills off. At the teller window, he emptied the credits out of the pouch. “Deposit this into my account,” he said. “And then tell me the balance.”

The teller punched a few keys and printed out a slip. As she slid it across the counter, Franki shook his head. “This must be a mistake. I only deposited sixty-three ninety. This says seventy thousand.”

The teller consulted her terminal screen. “It’s correct. Although only the sixty-three ninety is available immediately. The rest is from two off-planet deposits that came in a few hours ago. That won’t be available until we get the ping back from the bank on Coruscant. Give it a day or two.” She swiveled the screen so he could see.

39,000: Balance of payment for services rendered.

30,000: For damages to equipment incurred during employment

Both deposits came from a bank on Coruscant. Guess the kid wasn’t lying about his connections, Franki thought.

“Thank you,” he told the teller. “I’ll be back in a couple of days to make some withdrawals.” He turned the numbers over in his head as he left the bank. Seventy-five thousand would allow him to buy a new hopper, pay off all the debts, and still have a little left over. A fresh start.

As he made his way home, San-Ti rushed up. “Hey, man, you would not believe the night I had!” He flung his arm around Franki’s shoulders. “Some kriffing Imperial wannabe thought I was someone else and tossed me in lockup! Then they threw in a drunken Wookiee and we all spent the next few hours trying not to get our arms ripped off. Finally they ran a genetic scan and realized I wasn’t the guy they were looking for and the one who brought me in got reamed out by his superior. It was hilarious! Except for the drunken Wookiee part. So, anything new with you?”

Franki laughed. “You have no idea, my friend. You have no idea.”

[talentforlying]

NINE NIFTY THINGS YOUR MUSE CAN DO.

01. write & read music. not that punk band mucous membrane was churning out grammy-winning material, mind you, but knowing where all the notes go on a sheet of staff paper, which ones sound good together, and a handful of things about tempo and rhythm aren't half-bad skills to have. of course, constantine's process for writing music would make professional composers cry, but these days he most often puts this skill towards creating new spells, since he finds the principles remarkably similar, so the music world is spared his endeavors for now. ( underground single venus of the hardsell excepting. )

02. miniature-scale arts & crafts. he's really gifted with his hands, and with any activity that requires fine motor skills: intricate ritual-carving, cutting his own hair, braiding other people's hair, restringing an instrument, rolling insanely long joints, fixing jewelry, sewing, threading a corset, building a detail-accurate small scale model of a chair out of matchboxes for an ex-girlfriend's miniature house.

03. electrical work. another useful application of his excellent fine motor skills. he's lived in enough shithole apartments and had to hot-wire enough cars for friends to know his way around a wiring issue or two, not to mention the fact that electricity can be a handy supplemental power source in certain spells and it's helpful knowing how to get to it wherever you are. it stands out because he's pretty terrible with most other forms of household maintenance; there's just something uniquely mind-boggling about a guy who can't unclog his sink but can install a circuit breaker like a pro.

04. tie a cherry stem with his tongue. natch.

05. get anywhere in london, and cite almost anything in its history, from memory. a big bloody city with a big, bloody history attracts a lot of unearthly creatures with a lot of different emotional, spiritual, psychic, and physical fancies; it's been useful for him to know where significant events have happened, and when, and why, in case something starts up and the symptoms strike a chord. it's also useful to know where to go when he needs to gather specific kinds of information: the seedier pawn shops, gang territories, high-end clubs where celebrities and politicians go to hide from the press. on top of the strategic reasons, he's also spent a significant amount of time being homeless under a few different circumstances, and keeps his accumulated knowledge of last-ditch shelters, times that the police patrol the sewer tunnels, and safe places for a meal close at heart.

06. gamble with a 100% win rate. two of his best tricks are synchronicity wave traveling and probability manipulation, where he basically feels out the flow of luck in the space around him and shifts the current to go his way. it's incredibly dangerous on a larger scale, since it can cause a butterfly effect — too risky to use on avoiding a hit that would have killed him or sabotaging a villain's scheme, for example — but as long as he sticks to small-scale, short-term events like horse races and poker games, he cleans up easy. it's his primary source of income, since he doesn't have an actual job.

07. melt the face off a vampire. specifically the former king of the vampires, but supposedly any. demon blood is a nasty thing to have in your veins, and incredibly corrosive upon ingestion/absorption, for unknown reasons. if anyone wanted a snack they'd have a bad, bad time.

08. semi-fluently sign in & understand BSL. he credits his reason for learning to a deaf ex-boyfriend he dated in the 90s and has continued to brush up on his skills over time, although his preference to learn languages from the people who use them, lack of consistent lessons, and geographically-wide variety of friends has resulted in a . . . frankly nightmarish hodgepodge of dialects that can make him harder to understand.

09. play electric guitar, bass guitar & harmonica. he was lead vocalist and bassist for mucous membrane, and although they were only together a year before the newcastle incident, he'd been learning both electric and bass for a year or two before. it took him a long, long time to pick it up again, given the circumstances, but he managed to get his hands on a fender 1962 jazz bass a few years back and has been slowly but steadily working on getting the old feel back. the harmonica started as a joke gift from gary after constantine and chas got arrested for a pub fight in '77, so they could play it to pass the time when they inevitably got shafted by the system ( they didn't, constantine talked their way out ) but he became quite genuinely good at it, and now it's his shameful secret.

[ntzsche9]

Writer Q&A Tag Game

thank you for the tag, @digital-chance. I love how this one forces you to look at your own work in such a positive way.

1. What motivates you to write?

Some of my characters are ANCIENT. Even when I went 5+ years without writing, they're still there, and I miss them. Daydreaming about stories and scenarios is my favorite hobby, especially during my work commute.

2. A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)

From Ch 9(ish) of my Unnamed Nuka-World Fic:

From the corner of his eye, Luvell saw the Sunshine Tidings Co-op settlers jump and cheer, pumping their arms into the air. He couldn't hear them from the cataclysmic roar of the blast, but the rapture of revenge was clear on their faces. No one must be watching the settlement, with how many people were suddenly collected on the ridge. Even this far away, they could feel the sound and the heat threatening to bowl them over. He could hardly stare at the blast for more than a few seconds, and the people around him that didn't think to bring sunglasses dipped their hats and shielded their eyes. He had expected to be cheering, too, or at least relishing a deep satisfaction at finally striking back. Finally making someone pay for taking Lafayette from them. Instead, something inside him felt disquieted and out of place. This was too much. Too much like them. It wouldn't end here, it only raised the stakes. Things would get worse after this. Luvell glanced back at his parents, their faces brightly lit from the blast. Dave squinted behind his glasses, brows furrowed, still frowning. Gabe had tugged his goggles down over his eyes, and as the light made his tawny skin glow warm and golden, a toothy grin began to creep across his face. He watched the destruction with a growing smugness, a hand reaching up to squeeze Dave's shoulder. "He's gonna fuckin' haaate thiiis!" he relished happily when the world finally started to go quiet again.

3. Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?

I should say my main boy Lafayette, because whew I love putting him through things, but it's his lunatic little ex-boyfriend Mateo that delights me the most. He's hot in a way that is absolutely unhelpful to everyone, lowkey a nerd about plants, loves making lil spooky crafts, and will undoubtable one day run a death cult. Every time I write him, he does something so ridiculous and over-reactive that I didn't predict and its always fun.

4. What process of writing do you enjoy the most?

When the juices are flowing, and you're almost passively watching the things happen in your head and just recording what is being said and done, and the characters are in control. Especially when they surprise you by reacting differently than you anticipated and now everyone else has to react to them.

5. What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

Dialog? Maybe? Sometimes I really enjoy it, but that might just be self-indulgent.

6. What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?

The little daily tokens of encouragement to keep writing, and to write for yourself.

7. A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

Post-it notes. Lmao. I don't really use anything fancy, but as I'm reading, each and every book is gonna have at least one post-it note that is covered with page numbers, words I'm unfamiliar with, phrases I love or concepts I think I can use later. I have hundreds of notes like this and its a great source of inspiration when I need it.

8. A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)

I write mostly fanfics, so I can't claim the world as my own too often, but when writing Salem's Child, the bit about post-apocalyptic Salem, MA being overrun with black cats came out of nowhere at me and now I'm obsessed.

9. What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

Plotting, or over-plotting, is what most often bogs me up. To shake it off, I try to look back on a major plot point and change it, and write how things would go differently. Did Dave survive getting his leg eaten off by cannibals? Write about what happens if he didn't. (In my case, everyone wigged out and killed each other, and it really made me appreciate how Dave holds the whole family together lol.) When it works, it almost always fixes my slump.

10. Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters

I'm still pretty new here, but no pressure to: @elean0rarose, @leebrontide, @touloserlautrec, @words-after-midnight and @ruinmegently

[pof203]

A Summoner Birthday

Special Quest: Mephistopheles

So, this is what all the fuss is about. This truly is a land of dreams.

Indeed it is.

You and Mephistopheles arrive in the virtual fairytale world for some fun.

Mephistopheles: I hear there's a palace where a ball takes place. I would love to go there.

Lupin: And we shall. Let's go.

Mephistopheles: Excellent.

With that, you and Mephistopheles go to the prince's castle.

You and Mephistopheles arrive at the royal palace without fail.

Mephistopheles: Ah, such a grand place. This is just perfect for this.

Lupin: (curious) Perfect for what?

Mephistopheles: (giggling)

Mephistopheles snaps his fingers and you and him suddenly changed clothes. You were wearing your princely regalia and Mephistopheles was dressed in he regal attire. The two of you are also wearing masks.

For a masquerade ball, of course. You don't expect us to visit a ballroom in our regular clothes, do you?

Lupin: But aren't you always dressed in fancy clothes?

Mephistopheles: As a steward, yes. But this is a party, let's dress for one. Now come, let us waltz.

Lupin: Well... Okay. Just as long as it doesn't end the world or anything.

Mephistopheles: (chuckling) Why do you have to be like that?

And so, you and Mephistopheles dance a waltz together. The ballroom is then filled with lovely music as you and and Mephistopheles glide across the floor like a gentle breeze.

After much more dancing, you and Mephistopheles decide to rest for a while.

(panting) That was... fun...

Lupin: (also panting) No doubt...

You both take a seat next to a window and watch the sun beginning to set.

Mephistopheles: For a world that is just inside a computer, it's really beautiful here.

Lupin: Yeah. You have to give Kurogane and Boogeyman some credit.

Mephistopheles looks out the window the longing.

Lupin: What is it?

Mephistopheles: I don't get you. Why are you always such a good friend to me? Out of all the Transients of Gehenna, you treat me, the most wickedest of souls, with such kindness... Is it because I look like...

You managed to meet Mephistopheles's eyes with passion and hope.

Lupin: I guess... that's one way to say it. I guess, but you both are so alike, I feel like a can trust you.

Mephistopheles: Even with your soul?

Lupin: ... I wouldn't go that far. My soul pretty much already belongs to another out of all the others.

Mephistopheles: (pouting) What does that big buffalo have that I don't?

Lupin: I don't know. I guess... It's because he has something worth fighting for. And I have something worth fighting for. I can't think of anything else.

Mephistopheles: Well, if that's what you think... It's a good enough reason... Do you think I'll ever find something worth fighting for, or do I have something worth fighting for?

Lupin: I think you will or do. Either way... I'll be there when that day comes, because I wanna see it.

You and Mephistopheles both smiles, understanding one another. You both hug to show that you have a strong bond.

As the clock strikes midnight, you both make your way back to Candyland to return home.

[butteredpenny]

Gacha Club Character GiveAway

Really sorry if this is the third time you've seen this GiveAway post spam. I was having much confusion about why the posts didn't appear in the tags, plus blog settings and blah blah blah.

Anyway I got it fixed so I'm gonna spam. Actually if you see this post in particular I already have spammed, since tumblr shows latest posts in the tags reverse-chronologically.

Someone please interact with one or more of these posts just so I don't feel like I'm shouting into the uncaring void.

To the Point:

I don't have the brain power/time/patience to use these guys in stories, so I'm sharing them for others to use.

Do anything you want with them. Anything at all. Honest. Recolors redesigns background chars side chars main chars anything. They don't even have real names.

Anyone can use them, I dunno how to transfer ownership to just one person.

You don't need to credit me at all. I have my "brand" in their profiles but you can replace that with your name even. I just want them to be used since I think some of them are pretty neat.

There may be pictures of different versions, but the code will be posted for the one framed in yellow. The codes will only appear if you click or tap "keep reading" on the post. This is so screen readers don't have to say garbled nonsense for several minutes, if I understand right.

Feel free to send an ask or reblog for the other versions if they strike your fancy.

Some will be in grayscale. I like to make characters in shades of gray to establish values before coloring them, but the latter step may have not been done or was lost. So the gray ones are unfinished and you can do whatever with them.

I think that's it. Idk how to reiterate all these on each character post.

[tysukiweek]

Tysuki Week FAQ

Who are this year’s Tysuki Week Mods?

This event and this blog are both hosted by @shifuaang and @avatraang .

Tysuki Week is Coming! How do I participate?

All content created must be posted on Tumblr! This includes any fics that are published on ao3 —share the link on Tumblr and post it. Any and all content must tag the Tysuki Week blog ( @tysukiweek ) and have #TysukiWeek2022 in the tags. Feel free to tag #TysukiWeek and #Tysuki as well, but if you do not tag #TysukiWeek2022, there is less chance that we will see your post and reblog it! If your post is not reblogged within a day, DM us so we can give your content the boost it deserves!

I’m not a creator, but I still want to show support. How do I do that?

We are glad you asked! In this time before Tysuki Week, reblogging content and commenting on fics is a huge show of support. This lets creators know that people are looking at and admiring their content, and also boosts engagement for Tysuki Week! During Tysuki Week, the sentiment remains —letting creators know you support them is the #1 way to help! Reblog their works and interact with them! Who knows, a friendship may even bloom along the way.

How do the prompts work?

Each day has two prompts that serve to spark inspiration. You do not have to use both prompts, or even any prompts at all —they are more of a guideline than anything else! Feel free to let them inspire you, or to cast them aside and write whatever strikes your fancy.

Got a question that isn’t here?

No problem! Feel free to DM this blog or send the blog an ask. We are here to answer any and all questions in preparation of this week! 💕

Credit for this faq goes to @praetorqueenreyna.

[songbirdsingingthings]

Girls Day - Shoto Todoroki

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

Work for you this week was grueling to say the least. Your agency had assigned you to lead a coalition of heroes to take down a group of villains holding hostages, which for you was no problem. What was a problem, however, was the fact that some of the heroes in your group got sloppy which led to some of the hostages getting injured. Thankfully none of the injuries led to fatalities, but a couple came pretty close. This stuck you working in your office for four days straight writing up paperwork and detailing exactly how everything happened. You knew you had no fault in this, and so did your superiors, but you were technically responsible for those who did make mistakes. 

After you finally finished dotting the last i and crossing the last t, you scanned and faxed the documents over to your higher ups, stuffed any necessary paperwork that involved other agendas into your work bag, and finally, finally, turned off your laptop. You took a deep breath and ran a hand through your hair, but stopped halfway when you got a call on your cell. You see your good friend, Ochaco Uraraka, soon to be Ochaco Midoriya, is the contact listed as calling. 

“Hey Ochaco, what’s up?” You asked, fatigue clear in your voice.

“Hey Y/N! Nothing much, I was just wondering if you were free tomorrow! I was thinking of having a girls day - you, me, Momo, Tsu, Mina, Jirou, and Hagakure! You in?” Relishing in the idea of a relaxing day off, a smile spreads across your face.

“Hell yeah I’m in. Where are we all meeting?” You say as you simultaneously begin to shut off the lights in your office.

“Well, those new outlet malls just opened up, I was thinking of heading there! There’s sure to be a lot of cute things, maybe you could get something for a date night with Todoroki!” You blushed lightly as she mentioned your boyfriend’s name and rolled your eyes. 

“Yeah, well, we both have to have time off for a date night to happen in the first place. You know both of us well enough to know that we’re workaholics.” You joke. It was true to an extent, though. Both you and Shoto were busy people whose work schedules, more often than not, didn’t line up. The two of you made it clear to each other when the relationship started that you couldn’t really get mad at eachother for occasionally canceling dates or having dinner late. The life of a hero was tough and erratic - you couldn’t really count on when a villain was going to strike.

“If Shoto Todoroki sees you wanting to have a date night, he’s going to make it happen. Add a fancy outfit to that? Girl, you’re set.” You laugh at Ochaco’s statement and lock your door, making your way to the elevator. You give parting smiles to the people still working at the desks on the main floor and a quiet wave to your receptionist. You continue to chat with Ochaco about fun ideas for the day tomorrow like where to eat, if you were going to get your nails done, and maybe heading to the brand new spa. 

“Oh, that just sounds like heaven. I’ve been dying to get a massage - I’ve been stuck at my desk for the past few days and my shoulders are absolutely killing me.” You open the big glass doors that belong to your agency, finally making your way outside to where a certain red-and-white haired man stood waiting with a bouquet of (your favorite flower). Your face immediately softens and you give him a giddy smile. “Hey, I’m gonna have to call you back. I can’t wait for tomorrow!” You and Ochaco say goodbye and you hang up. 

“Who was that?” Shoto asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Ochaco,” you respond as you stuff your phone into your coat pocket, “the girls and I are going out for a girls day tomorrow.” you announce happily, leaning into Shoto to give him a quick kiss. You trade your bag for the flowers, at his insistence, and take his free hand in yours.

“That’ll be nice - you deserve a nice day out.” Shoto says, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand. You hum in response and smell the flowers, sighing at its aroma.

“What about you? Do you have to go in tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but it’s a short day for me,” he says, “just finalizing some recruitments for internships.” You smile at his words.

“It’s so great that you're doing that Sho,” you say, “I remember how happy I was when I got to go intern for Hawks. I probably didn’t stop smiling for weeks.” Shoto chuckles at that.

“Yeah I remember. You were practically buzzing with excitement.” Recollection of another memory crosses his mind which makes him laugh harder.

“What?” You say, grinning.

“I remember you calling me and telling me how Tokoyami basically had to shut you up because Hawks was too nice to tell you to stop talking when you were on a mission.” At this point he was cackling. You laugh with him and swat him with the flowers causing some petals to fall away. 

“Ugh that was so embarrassing,” you say, watching Shoto wipe a tear that had escaped as he was laughing, “the hue of my face was practically identical to your red hair.

The drive back to your shared apartment was full of laughter and more memories from your time at UA. When Shoto finally confessed, when your relationship became official, and all the silly moments in between. You finally arrive home and the two of you decide to have leftovers for dinner and watch a movie on the couch. You were so perfectly happy at this moment. You and your boyfriend, unwinding at the end of the day. The fact that you were so comfortable with living with each other now that you could be slouched on your couch, eating leftovers right out of the tupperware, and watching a stupid rom com on T.V. . 

Finally it was time to go to bed. Your eyes were already shut by the time Shoto finished washing up and you feel the dip in the mattress beside you. It was quiet as you were wrapped in his arms. Well, quiet until Shoto nudged your shoulder with his chin.

“Take my credit card when you go out tomorrow.” He says quietly, pressing a kiss against the back of your neck.

“Shoto Todoroki, I will do no such thing.” You mumble, eyes still closed.

“Please?” He asks quietly, making you melt a little, “I want tomorrow to be completely relaxing. I know you credit yourself as a smart shopper, but I want you to just spend whatever you want on anything you want.” He says as he nuzzles you.

“Sho, I make almost as much as you - I can go shopping with my own card.” You respond. However, his next few words make you agree rather quickly to using his.

“The one I’m giving you is tied to my father’s bank account.”

“...Okay deal.”

By the time you wake up the following morning, Shoto is already gone. You stretch your arms and back and groan. You push the stray hair in front of your face behind your ear and see a little note next to a danish and a silver credit card.

“Breakfast for you, my love. Have a great day. Also, I booked a reservation at that fancy restaurant in town that you like for 7:30 p.m. . Go crazy with the card, my father won’t even notice. Love, your Shoto.”

Your heart always flutters when he writes you letters and signs them with “your Shoto”. It’s a sweet affirmation that you have his heart. You nibble on the danish as you scroll through messages on your phone, the most recent ones from Ochaco and the girls.

Mina: We’re meeting at the outlets at 11:00 a.m. right?

Ochaco: Yup! Get excited!

You eventually roll out of bed and stroll into your closet, looking at the array of clothes hanging up. You decide on a casual yet chic outfit and get dressed. You grab the coffee waiting for you on the counter in the kitchen, yet another gift from shoto, stuff Endeavor’s credit card into your purse, and make your way to the outlets by taxi. When you finally get there, you see that the whole group is there. You thank and pay the driver quickly and rush out to meet up with your friends.

“Y/N!” they all say, giving you a big hug.

“Hey guys! Wow, it’s so great to see all of you here together - I can’t remember the last time we all met up!” You say, grinning. As a group you all make your way into the mall, stopping by some high end boutiques and designer stores.

“How’s the fiance?” You ask Ochaco, wiggling your eyebrows. She gives you a smile as she looks through some of the skirts hanging on the rack next to her.

“Oh, Izuku’s great. Couldn’t be more excited about the wedding, if I’m honest.” She says giggling. The two of you talk about the wedding planning and everything for a bit, listening to Ochaco gush about how involved Izuku is with the process.

“What about you Y/N? Any wedding bells in your future?” Mina says, popping into the conversation. You blush and try to make yourself look busy by inspecting the hem on a shirt very carefully.

“Oh, I don’t know. Don’t get me wrong, Shoto and I are going super well right now, it’s just that the both of us are so busy. I always thought that we would get married but I don’t really know about how he feels about it.” The girls quirk their eyebrows at this, confused as to how the two of you hadn’t had a conversation about that yet. Quickly, you clear everything up. “I just don’t want him to think of his parents’ predicament - I mean that was his first view on marriage, and I know that he knows that that’s not how marriage works, but I feel like it might be a touchy subject.” The girls nod and give you reassuring smiles.

“Oh Y/N, you have got to try the dress on. I mean, it’s made for you.” You hear Momo say. You follow her gaze to a mannequin and couldn’t even try to hold back the gasp that left your mouth. It truly was beautiful. The dress was navy in color and was clearly made of an expensive material. The sleeves, which were long sleeves, were also sheer and dotted with small pearls. On the mannequin as well were matching shoes and a bag. You just couldn’t keep your eyes off of it. It was so expensive, in fact, that you had to ask the store manager directly to go into the back and grab you your size so that you could try it on. You had to say, when you put that dress on, you felt like a million bucks. Momo was right, it really was made for you. Sliding the curtain back so that the rest of the girls could see, you didn’t even try to hide your smile as you saw the girls’ reactions.

“Y/N L/N, if you weren’t already taken I would pounce on you myself.” Mina says, making you laugh. You get similar compliments from the rest of the girls, making you smile, and taking the dress and the accessories up to the register. The woman there kindly wraps the dress, shoes, and bag carefully in tissue paper and places the three items into a pretty shopping bag. You had fun during the rest of the day, eating lunch, getting a mani-pedi, and a massage, but you couldn’t contain your excitement at the thought of wearing that dress to yours and Shoto’s dinner date that evening.

After your busy day of shopping, you immediately run home to shower. You had about an hour to wash your hair and body, making sure to shave your legs so that you looked totally put together that evening. You manage to do your hair in your favorite formal style, slip on your dress and shoes, and swing the small matching bag over your shoulder. You put on a tiny bit of make-up, just a light coat of mascara and a sheer layer of lip gloss. You look at yourself in the mirror and almost explode. You even had to admit it to yourself. You. Looked. HOT.

You finally make your way to the restaurant and ask the hostess at the front to direct you to your table. She led you to where Shoto was sitting, looking at the menu. As soon as he registers people coming towards him, he looks up but almost chokes. Seeing you in that dress almost made his eyes pop out of his head. He couldn’t even form a coherent thought as he mindlessly thanked the hostess and watched you sit down across from him. Smirking, you gently wave a hand in front of his face.

“Earth to Shoto! Is someone in there?” You said, giggling softly. The only thing Shoto could say was something that he had been thinking about for the past two years non-stop. With no filter and no reason to stop himself, he made that thought known.

“You wanna get married?”

[foxymoxynoona]

mama foxy, do you have any tips for getting things done? i have terrible executive dysfunction and have no motivation to do what i need to day-to-day, no matter how much i want to complete these tasks. of course, medication helps but there’s only so much it can do

you seem to have a really good routine for yourself so i thought i’d ask :))

🍰🍰

LMAO DO I HAVE YOU FOOLED

Ok no it totally depends on the day for me and my mental health at any given time. There are times I struggle to even like get everyone fed, and then there are days I get so much done. Here are the things that help my sometimes:

- To do lists have been identified as a signal of mine that I'm hitting a mental limit BUT I do still find it useful to have a few varieties of to do lists to track stuff like "things I need to do but that don't have a deadline," "things I need to do soon but not today," and "things that need to be done TODAY." Then I take a good look at the today and let myself take something off of it. It's tricky if things are actually MUST todays, but I personally have a tendency to apply urgency where there really isn't any.

- FUN to do lists. I use Trello for my writing because it is visually pleasing to me, it's low burden to reprioritize, and it lets me give myself credit for in progress things with notes, color labels, or moving things between categories that aren't just 'done v. not-done.' There are lots of apps that have nice little noises, or sometimes I hand write my to do lists because it's fun to strike them out. Or put stars or stickers when you complete soemthing, something nice!

- Taking a nothing day when you need it. Somedays it's just not going to happen and rather than guilt myself into oblivion, I just choose ONE thing that is my focus, even if that's like "pay one credit card bill" or "water the plants". Sometimes just doing the one thing and feeling good about it is actually enough for me to decide "well, while I'm on my bank accounts, maybe I cna do this next thing too and get it done with..." But if not, be kind to yourself that some days are ebbs and some days are flows.

- Do something else that's easier but gratifying. if I'm overwhelmed with everything and can't do anything, I'll just clean the trash out of my bedroom instead. That feels good and like before, maybe that then makes me EITHER calmer in general because my space looks better OR I'm already moving and I can keep moving. I do a lot of daisy-chaining tasks.

- Cut out the bullshit things that aren't actually important. Like I said, I'm bad at making tasks for myself that aren't actually important and then getting too stressed to do the things that are. Should I put laundry away? Sure but it's actually not hurting anyone in the basket. Like that's not actually the end of the world.

- Make things easy for yourself. Sometimes getting things done is way more important than it being perfect. That's the opposite of the messaging we receive and it's been a hurdle for me but I find it helps a lot. I eat protein shakes for lunch every day because food is annoying and daunting to me, so now my lunch decision is made and that's easy. Maybe the chapter/paper/gift isn't going to be the best thing you've ever created. SO WHAT?

- Reward yourself even for stupid stuff. I did the thing so now I get a fancy coffee? Yeah!

- Stop beating yourself up about it. You'll just tie negative emotions to it and psyche yourself out and make it worse. You'll finish it and instead of feeling proud of yourself, you'll just feel less guilt. It's just a thing you need to do, it doesn't matter how many times you put it off or how many other things you are also putting off. You got the thing done when it was challenging, and you're done!

- And some super specific things: open blinds, turn on lights, put on socks/shoes and real pants (houseshoes with soles are the best for in-home task doing!), drink some water, eat some protein, put your phone in your pocket and clap your hands as you stand up. These are literally all cues to your brain that it's time to Do Something and can help it get moving.

OK I don't know if any of these are helpful but maybe sort of? I defintely went from an overachiever person to executive dysfunction and now I whiplash back and forth and so I get how HARD it is to just DO THE THING. I do