#they always put him in some fuckass business casual shirt

[honeyboychangbin]

it's so hard to win as a changbin ult when he's styled outside of mvs and stages 😭

[lovely-amora]

Mechanic Shit

When Ghost and Ash meet for the first time. Oc Nonsense. Ash is a woman but dresses very manly. ----

Beep! Beep! 

“FUCKK..” I groaned loudly as I wake up, smashing the snooze button on my phone as if it didn’t vanish after the first push. Despite the desperate desire for more sleep at such an unholy hour, I couldn’t go back to bed.

“Stupid fuckass alarm. Stupid five am wake up call.” I grumble as I kick off the sheets, standing up and letting a long stretch pop my spine. I somehow drag my ass into the bathroom, grabbing the toothbrush and putting the paste over the bristles. I brush my teeth slowly, the repetition in the movement bringing an odd sense of normalcy. I stare at my face uncomfortably as I brush.

The dim bathroom light flickers, casting uneven shadows across my face. My eyes trace the jagged scar running from my lip to my eye, the pale, raised skin stark against my complexion. My gaze lingers on it longer than I mean to, my hand pausing mid-brush as memories flicker in the back of my mind—

The weight of the pipe. The sharp crack of bone. The metallic taste of blood flooding my mouth. The burning, searing pain. The laughter.

I clench my jaw, my gold tooth catching the light as I pull myself back to the present. It happened. It’s over. It’s just another part of me now. Even if it’s hard for me to genuinely smile. Even if I can’t see out my right eye—

I shake my head and rinse my mouth, spitting into the sink before straightening up. With a sharp exhale, I run a hand through my hair and smirk at my reflection. I tilt my head just enough to let the gold gleam again.

“Still handsome as ever,” I mutter, rolling my shoulders before turning away.

There’s no time for ghosts. The day’s already started, and I’ve got shit to do.

Getting dressed was always a boring process. I had most of the same outfit. My mechanic uniform and the business casual clothes I’d wear on my off days. Today was sad. A work day. 

I pull my shirt over and slip on my pants then boots. It wasn’t cold enough for a jacket so I left that behind. I check myself over in the mirror once again and check myself out one last time. 

“Hello, Beautiful!” I click my tongue before officially leaving the comfort of my small room. Honestly, another mechanic was supposed to stay in my room but she had left before the room could get used. So good for me. 

“Morning, Ash.” A coworker whose name I could barely remember waved at me as I walked past. I wave as he zombies off with a mug in hand. 

Entering the Maintenance Room was almost always repulsive. The smell of oils and gas was powerful. The place was neat yet also somehow a messy labyrinth. “I wonder how much the medical bill would be if I drank..the oil..” I mumble to myself as I pick up my tool kit. I go further into the room and look over what needs tune-ups, total overhauls, and just some good old-fashioned elbow grease. 

I let my hand slide down the list till I came upon a surprise. I squint at the paper, double-checking to make sure I’m seeing it right. “Ghost’s gear,” I mutter under my breath. Right there. At the bit in my boss’ handwriting. Of all the things that could need maintenance today, this is the one that throws me off. I’m used to fixing weapons, vehicles, radios, and even body armor. But Ghost’s gear? That’s something else entirely. The man and I never interacted. My co-workers have always reported that they never have to even touch his stuff since he usually does it himself with the utmost care. 

I glance over at the workbench, half-expecting him to be lurking nearby, watching me. The place is quiet though, too quiet. Maybe he’s off on another mission, or he’s just keeping to himself. Either way, I’m not thrilled to be messing with his stuff. I can’t deny that the man is sorta scary.

Still, no way out of it. I roll up my sleeves and get to work. First thing first—check the rifle. I grab the heavy piece and feel the weight of it in my hands, familiar yet slightly off. A few tweaks, and some adjustments, but nothing major. I’ll have this back to peak performance in no time.

But as I’m setting it down, the door to the room creaks open, and I freeze. The air shifts, cold and silent. I don’t even need to look up to know who it is.

Ghost.

I don’t say anything at first. I just keep working, making sure to stay casual, even though I feel the tension in the room rise. There’s something about him—silent, intense, like he’s made of shadows. Is he watching me?

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” I finally say, not bothering to hide the amusement in my voice. “Figured you’d be too busy haunting someone else’s nightmares.”

There’s a moment of quiet before he speaks, low and controlled, the kind of voice that makes you think he’s seen more than most people could handle. “You’re fixing it, then?”

I look at the rifle one last time before setting it aside and turning to face him, still with that smirk playing at the corner of my lips. “You could say that. I’d like to think I’m making it better, but I’m not sure if I’m allowed to improve on perfection.” I wink. Well, I try to wink. These days, winking is just the action of a blink now that I can only see out of my left eye. 

He steps closer, the faint click of his boots on the floor echoing in the small room. I notice he’s sizing me up, like he’s evaluating more than just the rifle. His hands are clasped behind his back, but there’s something in the way he holds himself that suggests he’s always ready for whatever comes next.

“Let’s hope you don’t make it worse.” His tone is steady, almost casual, but there’s a hint of warning there.

“Not gonna happen, Ghost. I’ve got a...golden touch.” I flash my gold tooth at him for emphasis, hoping it’ll lighten the mood. But he doesn’t react to the smile, just watches me like he’s waiting for something. It’s worse with that cursed mask on. Any movement in his face is just covered. His eyes a hard glare as I slightly sweat under his gaze. Does he do this to all the people he meets?

I watch as he picks up the rifle. He moves it in his hands as if checking for something to be wrong. He nods slowly as if giving his approval. He silently walks away, leaving the smelly maintenance room. 

“What a fuckin weirdo.”

[lunartearrose]

Ok but consider: splat manga spyke

I just thought about goggles, rider, and the S4 meeting Spyke for the first time. They gonna be smols just starting out turf for this and some headcanons will come into play because gosh i love to think about squids and big ol’ urchin of questionable nature… read more below because this might get a bit long :3

1. Goggles Spyke sits at his usual place, relaxing in the alleyway on his shaul with the empty sea snail shells. Well, to be specific, two empty shells and one he was finishing up eating. It was early, and squids usually wouldn’t come until about 30 minutes later, but he always showed up early just because you never know when a new squid might show up with a shiny little snail to trade for some slots.

He finished up his little snack and casts the shell aside. Just then he noticed a small blue tentacle whip behind a vending machine as he looked back out. He can hear the voices of two- no, maybe three voices of little squids if he tried to listen. They didn’t sound that old or like they planned to do something shady, so Spyke didn’t worry about it. A minute later, one of the squids peek out again, and darts right back behind the vending machine again. Spyke rolls his eye. Should he call them out or see what happens?

A few minutes pass, and a small, nearly mature squishy with a cozy looking hat walks by, noticing those behind the vending machine. With her big smile still on her face, she picks up one of the hiding squids and tucks him under her arm.

“BOBBLE NO!” Two other squids shout before squeaking and hiding back in their obvious hiding place again.

The squid named Bobble walks forward casually, and drops the unmoving pilot goggle wearing squid In front of him.

“U-uhm… hiiiiiiiiii there uh….” the little goggled squishy spoke, a hint of fear in his little voice.

“Spyke. Th’ name’s Spyke. N’ you are?” Spyke says calmly, staying relaxed.

The inkling gulps a bit. “Goggles. Heh.”

“He wants a reroll on his headgear.” Bobble says, face unmoving from that slightly disturbing smile.

“Got un’ o’ these?” Spyke asks, nodding to the little pile of emptied snail shells.

“uh! Yeah! Just lemme-” Goggles digs into his pockets and starts to freak and says, “I forgot it at home!!!”

It’s the little squishy girl to the rescue again, taking a sea snail out from under her hat and plopping it in the boy’s lap. He makes a happy noise and says “Thanks bobble!”

“right. Now give me ya goggles an’ I’ll reroll ‘em.” Spyke says.

Goggles cautiously takes his prized headgear off and hesitantly hands them over. Spyke does his work and the goggles get double damage plus swim speed. He hands them back and the squid squeals happily.

“Thanks Spyke!!!” Goggles shouts, quickly hugging the urchin before speeding off in the other direction.

The urchin was admittedly a bit dazed by the squid’s sudden movements and quick change from scared to spaz. Bobble still stood in front of him with that smile.

“want somefin’?” Spyke asked.

“Can I touch one of your spikes?” she asks.

“Nope. Poison’s in ‘em.” he answers.

“okay. Can you add a slot to this then?” she asks, removing her hat which had 30,000 coins in a little bag inside.

He nods, and does his work. “That all, then?”

Bobble nods. “Thanks Spyke!” and gives him hugs before leaving as well.

Sweet kids. He watches the two meet the other two behind that vending machine and the four of them run off to bring their chaos to the world.

2. Rider

It’s getting dark out. Boy, Spyke sure hates when winter time comes around. He had as many layers as he could find under his poncho, and frozen sea snails weren’t that pleasing to pick at. Heck, the only reason he stayed out for so long is because there’s usually a customer that likes to brave the weather for some slots or a triple reroll. So, he figures it’s a chance to get some non frozen snails or some extra cash for more blankets and space heaters.

About fifteen minutes more is all he can stand. He packs his stuff up, and begins to head out. On his way home, not too far from the plaza, he hears a little fight going on. The only reason he looked for it was because he heard a little kid shouting.

One turn around the corner, and he spots a nearly matured yellow-green squishy with a bit of a shiner already, trying to get his hard-earned coins back from the older squids that were acting like asshats. Spyke to the rescue, he guesses.

Knocking one of the older inklings flat on their backs was enough to scare them off and leave their stolen goods behind. Spyke picks up the items and hands them back to the small squishy. The little inkling grins widely, showing his chipped beak now as well.

“Thanks. Who are you?” he asks.

“Spyke. An’ it was nothin’. Better get on home, s’ gettin dark.” Spyke answers.

“Right…” the squishy trails off, and he looks around, shivering as the cold wind made him hug the not so warm leather jacket tighter around himself and his red winter scarf whip around. The look in his eyes said it all.

“Guessin’ you got chased, right? Don’ know ya way back now, huh?” Spyke says.

The little one grumbles and nods. “I live near arowana…” he says.

“s’ right on the otha side f’ town, then. Got ya phone? Could wait with ya ‘ere while ya folks come get ya.” Spyke says.

“alright… thanks.” the little one says.

The little one takes out his phone and calls his mother. He learns the kid’s name was Rider because his mom screamed at him over the phone. He felt bad for the kid.

But still, he helped the kid get through explaining that it’s not his fault he was out past curfew. About thirty minutes later they’re both frozen and the mom finally picks up the kid. Spyke quickly gets home, and spends a good hour in blankets right up against his space heater.

3. Army

Spyke is chilling at his little business alley once again. It was one of those days where he was just completely bored. But a job was a job, and this was bearable. All he had to do was sit and wait for a customer.

A while later, another squishy wearing gear that was the slightest bit too big for him shows up. He may be not quite matured into full inkling yet, but that shakily done war paint says ready for battle. Spyke figures this is bound to be a bit interesting. The little guy puffs up his chest and marches over, trying to look tough. Spyke wanted to burst out laughing but he didn’t want the squishy to cry or anything.

There was a moment or two of silence before the kid points and says, “You’re loitering!”

“Am I now?” Spyke asked.

“Yeah! That’s against laws!” the kid puts his fist up to his chest and says, “And I put a stop to law breakers! I am! Army!”

It was taking Spyke a lot of effort to not start laughing. “well I can tell ya righ’ now, m’ not loi’er’n. This s’ where I work.” Spyke says.

Little Army seems shocked “What?! Where you work??”

Spyke nods and says, “30 grand ’r a sea snail, an’ I can reroll or put extra slots on yer gear.”

Army’s eyes light up. He takes his beret off and fishes out the exact money from his pockets. “prove!” he says.

Spyke does the reroll, and the kid is lucky enough to get triple slots of quick special gauge filling on the hat. Army is squealing as he gets the hat back, realizes the silly noise he’s making, and straightens up and clears his throat.

“You’re free to go. Sorry for bothering you. Have a good one!” he says, running off.

“Cheers.” Spyke says simply. Once Army is far away enough, Spyke snickers a bit. Boy, were these new turfers a riot.

4. Aloha

Later that same day as the ordeal with army, a pink squishy with a blue tropical shirt and visor dashes into the alley way. The kid is light on his feet and dodges an angry little army who smacks into the wall when he misses the tackle. The pink one bounces off a trash can, flips, and lands on his feet before running and dashing behind Spyke.

“GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE CRIMINAL! PEST! I’LL ARREST YOU!!” Army shouts.

“Go away! You’re not even a real cop dude!!” the pink squishy shouts back. “Jerk!”

“You’re lame!”

“Shut up!”

“you first, dork!!”

The two almost get into a slap fight, and Spyke has to pull them apart. The two growl at each other and flail.

“Wot’s goin on ‘ere? C’mon, out with it.” Spyke says.

“Army said I couldn’t dance cuz I was disturbing peace and that was a stupid law or something!”

“Aloha called me lame and kept doing it!”

“that wasn’t even a law!”

“YOUR FACE isn’t even a law!”

“Dumb rich kid!”

“Stupid criminal!!”

“Jerk!”

“Fuckass!”

“SWEARING IS AGAINST THE LAW TOO!”

“YOU’RE A SUPER LAME FUCKASS!!”

“STOP BREAKING THE LAW!”

“FUCKASS FUCKASS FUCKASS!!”

And the fight devolves into Aloha saying every swear word he learned from his parent ever and Army flailing and pretty much starting to cry while he covered his ears.

“alright, alright, that’s enough! Aloha, keep yer mouth shut, take a step back, an’ take a look at Army. Know he started it, but ya ended up makin ‘im cry over somefin silly. Not a very cool thin’ if ya ask me. Army, if ya stop tryin t’ jail people an’ jus’ talk to em’, I gurantee you’ll ‘ave a better time dealin’ wit em’. Long story short, quit bullyin’ each other an’ make up, alright?” Spyke says.

He sets the two down, and the two kinda glare at each other for a moment. They then both cry and hug each other and apologize. After that big ordeal, they both walk off, talking and getting to know about each other. Spyke wonders if they’ll start to fight again. He guesses it might be inevitable. Oh well. Back to snails and slots.

5. Mask

It was a lovely spring day in inkopolis. Spyke was happy to have warmth and sunlight back as opposed to snow or torrential downpours. The air was fresh, it made him happy, and with a splatfest on friday he was ready for the sea snails to come pouring in. His mouth watered just thinking about it.

A flurry of sneezes interrupts his thoughts. A cyan colored squishy trudges up to him. Even stranger still, the inkling had a paper bag over their head with eye holes cut out. Spyke glances to Annie’s shop in the distance, wondering if it’s a weird new trend. Nope, nothing indicated that. He looks back to the squishy, another near maturity but not quite.

“Mornin’. Lemme guess… hay fever?” Spyke asked.

The inkling nods, sniffling a bit. “can’t turf at aaall…”

“sorry t’ hear that. Wot you ‘ere for?” Spyke asked.

The squishy takes a dingy, extremely trashed gas mask out from his bag. “Can you help find something like thiiis? Looked it up… the thing helps you breeaathe.”

“‘Course. Got one right ‘ere nobody wanted.” Spyke says, taking out a gas mask that was in top condition from behind himself.

“perrrrfect. Thank you.” the squishy says, giving an appropriate amount of pay.

“been a pleasure… but tell me. Why ‘re ya wearin a paper bag?” Spyke asked.

The boy sighs a bit and says, “Momma put it on me. I can’t take it off unless i find something elllse to cover it up.”

That didn’t sit right with Spyke at all. “Why would she do somefin like that?”

“‘Cauuse I’m ugly. You don’t wanna see. Nobody should and if I show somebody I’ll just get in trouble again. And be even uglier.” he answers.

“So wot if ya are? I’m pretty darn ugly too. No reason t’ hide it. N’ fact, lemme see you. I won’t judge ya, and i won’t tell anyone.” Spyke says.

The boy thinks for a moment. “…fine. you asked for it…”

The kid removes the bag. Aside from a lot of snot he was wiping away with a handkerchief, the kid had about three painful looking scars, almost seeming to be made a few days prior. And sadly, the scars would likely not be going away since they happened while the kid was still maturing. But still, Spyke had his opinion he wanted to say.

“Not bad at all. She really make a fuss ‘bout the scars?” Spyke says.

The squishy nods, and sniffles a bit. He puts the mask on, takes a few deep breaths, and relaxes.

“muuuch better… “ the squishy sighed.

“Good. An’ jus’ one more question…” Spyke says, because he’s curious and and loathes abuse, “Yer mom give ya a difficult time of’en?”

The squishy takes a moment to decipher Spyke’s words, and then answers, “She lets me know evvvvery day I’m dissapoiiinting. I’m not even supposed to be here, but I stopped caring about that a while ago… and she hits me and yells a lot, I don’t get what i did wrooong a lot… but I guesss it was the sneaking food when i wasn’t supposed to have that daaay that landed me with thiiis.”

Way to drop a bombshell, kid. “that’s not good. ‘s wot we call abuse. Should give th’ police a ring…” Spyke says.

The kid goes wide eyed and says, “Nonono! Can’t do thaaat! She knows how to bribe them, she’s gotten guys fired or got lawyers… and in the end she always thinks i tooold on heeer when it’s aaalllways someone else!”

Spyke finds it hard to hide his anger or shock. He thinks for a moment and says, “So they’re no help… then I’ll help ya how I can. I ain’t like the cops, but I can get ya a spot away from th’ lady th’ only way I know how. You’ll ‘ave t’ hold out ‘til yer matured a bit, though. Can ya ‘ol on till then?”

The squish seems surprised. “Really? You caaaan heeelp? No joooke?”

“i don’ joke aroun’ ‘bout abuse.” Spyke says seriously.

The kid goes to wipe tears, but his gas mask is in the way. “Th-thaanks, Spyyyyke…. I can hold on if it means getting awaaay from all thaaat…”

“no problem… wot’s yer name again?” Spyke asks.

“call me Maaask…” Mask answers.

Spyke holds out a hand. Once Mask shakes it Spyke says, “Pleasure to meet ya. If ya need anyfin, even jus’ need someone t’ talk, y’know where I’ll be.”

“Thaaanks.” Mask says.

The kid soon has to leave, and Spyke waves the kid goodbye. Little does spyke know he’d be the sort of fatherly guardian figure for this kid for the next couple years, teaching him how to use his intimidating nature and how to get by with less of a struggle. He’d even be teaching the kid how to flirt and romance his crushes, which was about the only thing he was a master of and good at teaching and he’d have to squid google everything else.

6. Skull

It was about two days after a splatfest. Spyke was sitting pretty with his sea snails, having a pretty alright day. He had lots of snails and lots of shells to clean up too, but he doesn’t care too much about it at the moment. He closes his eye, and lies back. If someone wants something, they’ll get his attention.

After a while, Spyke feels something… off. Like he’s getting stared at. Like very, seriously stared at. He opens his eye and sure enough, there’s an inkling boy standing there, staring directly at him, unblinking. He had purple ink and a skull bandanna, and also lacked eyebrows. Spyke felt he was relatable in that respect. The inkling seemed to have matured into full inkling not that long ago. He still had a kinda babyish face with a tint to it the color of his ink.

The staring lasted for several more moments before Spyke says, “Wot ‘re ya starin’ fo?”

“You were asleep. I was waiting for you to wake up.” the inkling answers shortly.

“ah. Well, I’m up now. Wot ‘re ya here for?” spyke asked.

“Help me find Avi. I lost him. I think he went somewhere this way.” the boy says.

Spyke assumes he’s talking about some sort of pet at first. He agrees to help him find him and they search around the alley for about ten minutes.

“Oh. He’s right here.” the inkling says, picking up one of the assumed empty shells.

What was inside was another purple inkling, in squid form, cowering in fear, hiding his eyes. The kid reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a pair of aviator glasses.

“Avi. Got them back. Your snails too.” the inkling says.

Spyke watches the scene with lots of curiosity. Avi comes out from his hiding spot, snatching back the sunglasses and hugging the other inkling. The poor kid looks like he got roughed up.

“I’m sorry you went through that trouble Skull! How did you get them back??”

“it was nothin’. They were easy to beat up. You hurt?”

“Not too bad, I mostly got scared…”

“Glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad you’re okay too!”

God, those two kids were adorable. Hugging and all that. The two also thank Spyke for his help, and leave. The next day, Avi is back to trade in some sea snails for slots.

“hey, c-can I ask you something real fast? Just a fast favor. But really important. It’s about Skull.” Aviator says.

“shoot.” Spyke says.

“S-so uh… how do I say this… Skull is a little… orphaned and homeless. I kinda found this out recently too, along with the fact the city will be cracking down and making sure kids with no home go to one of those foster care places. I looked them up and apparently they’re overcrowded as is and reeeeaaallly bad. Like, you’d be better off on the street bad. I know you’re a busy guy, maybe like you don’t know how to, but like… ugh… what i wanna ask is… could you pretend to be Skull’s parent figure? Just so he has someone to name as that so he won’t get sent off. Please? He’s my best friend and I don’t want him to have to go away.” Avi asks.

“Sure.” Spyke says.

“Please I’ll give- wait, you’ll really do it? Like really mean it and do that??” Avi says.

“Pretty much doin’ that for another squid too, so why not. ‘sides, we look a bit similar already, an’ nobody’ll mess wi’ ‘im if they’re tol’ I’m takin care o’ them.” Spyke says, pointing to his own lack of eyebrows.

The kid is so relieved, he starts to cry a bit. “Thank you so much, Spyke! Here, take the rest of these- you don’t have to give me rerolls for them!”

5 extra snails are plopped down in front of Spyke. He happily accepts the gift. For the next few days, each time Skull comes for a reroll, he’s calling him Dad instead of Spyke. Spyke rolls with it, and in return the kid gets a fearsome reputation and Spyke gets a lot of, “You’re really Skull’s dad?!?!?” from his customers for a while.

In a way, it sort of became the truth after a while. Same with the Mask kid. He’d hear from them or about them almost every day, and be somewhat proud of them when he hears they’ve become the best of the best. He didn’t mind it one bit, having Inkopolis’ most accurate charger and fearsome sub weapon user be his semi-adopted kids. He enjoyed his crazy, colorful, interesting existence as an urchin running his business.