#his name DOES sound like a bad pun!! it does!

[silverselfshippingchaos]

welp... he's on the f/o list now!

#ash rambles 💚 #i thought i'd make him official for new years but i just cant wait any longer #i love him so much and he's all i ever think about and he makes me smile so much #we have a lot in common aksjaks musicians and pun lovers and we have similar music taste and personalities #it sounds cheesy to say but i think we really do get each other. i feel so comfortable and happy with him. he really does feel like a #character that was Made For Me you know? #i'm almost done with his game. i knew i was in love but there's a scene where you see him reflect on himself when he's at his lowest and he #realizes that he's loved and cared for and that his disability doesn't define him and he can be whoever he wants to me #i cant deny that i cried. i knew i was in love but that scene really set everything in stone for me #so... yeah! here he is. my rockstar boyfriend! #my s/i makes music too! he's her muse! #also. (insert joke about indian girl falling for the dude named chai here) #heheh makes me chuckle a bit #but yeah. he's my boyfriend now! and i'm his girlfriend! gah it's so late rn but i'm still grinning like an idiot thinking about him #i'm so in love your honor #man aksjajsj i bet these past few days have been fun for everyone huh? seeing me fall this fast LMAAOO #*whoever he wants to be #damn typos... too down bad for this shit

[angelltheninth]

Logan Growlett in the Sheets

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, growling/snarling, claws pop out, feral!Logan Howlett

Word count: 0.6k

Ao3

A/N: I'm so sorry for the bad pun. Don't look at me!

Many called Logan wild, feral, an animal. You're the only one who knew the true feral Logan, when he was complexly consumed by his deepest instincts, the instinct to fuck and to breed his cute girlfriend.

Every once in a while he would get like this, pounding into you from behind, strong hands spreading your thighs open for him, holding you against him so you don't move away from his cock. Although a chase isn't a bad idea for the future. Right now you're not going anywhere.

"Where do you think you're going dollface? We're not done yet, my cock's still got so much to give you." Logan rasped.

His hands moved up your body, to your back, across your shoulderblades, putting a bit of extra pressure on your squirming body. Was it wrong for you to rile him up more? To want him to lose control with you and fuck you into the bed harder, fuck you cunt full of his hard cock.

"Why would I go anywhere when your cock is inside me?" You felt him push it all the way inside you, "Fuck. Harder. Faster." The demands trembled on your lips, earning a deep growl in return. Logan's hands pushed you all the way down on the bed.

Trapped between his hard body and the bed you couldn't move much, but you could still clench your pussy around him whenever he pulled out. "Greedy little cunt you got there. I'll make sure to give it what it wants, it's been so good for me today. You take my cock so well, my perfectly made toy." Logan's hips kept snapping forward, slapping into yours, your ass smacked hard every time. "Does my girl want to come?"

"Yeah. I need to... around your cock." You glanced back in time to see him grin triumphally. "I've been a good girl, just like you said." And according to him good girls got to come all they wanted to.

He knew how to make that happen.

"I know what you need babygirl. You need a big load in you. A creampie to help you come." His cock pulsed at his own words, just as eager as your pussy was.

You weren't gonna beg for his cum. Not this time, there was no need to when Logan got like this. There was nothing in the universe that would make him stop making you come. His body tensed on top of yours, his legs pushed on either side of you, trapping you beneath him completely, enjoying every moan you made, and more importantly the slutty, wet sounds of your pussy taking his cock.

He pushes off for a brief moment, inhaled once before his claws popped out and stabbed into the bed.

You would have scolded him for ruining yet another bed if your brain wasn't turning into mush and you could actually form words. Unfortunately you could only whine, "Logan..." Repeating his name over and over while he rutted into your pussy, full balls slapping loud against your skin, "Come." Arching your back as much as you were able you clenched your pussy walls around him, making sure he stayed inside you while you shook with pleasure, barely able to think of anything anymore.

"Cum? I'll give you lots of cum, all of it. Like you need." He chuckled. He heard you right, didn't mean he would stop fucking you now. "Be so full of my cum it's gonna drip out. Or I suppose I could keep my cock in for a little while longer, maybe even all day, keep you here, fuck you when I feel like it."

Warmth rushed through your body as he pushed himself close, his cum spilling both inside and a bit on the outside as well.

"That's a lot. You better stay here." Logan barked out a laugh, his claws slowly retracting before his strong arms slipped under your stomach, one hand patting directly over your pussy. "We'll see if you get lucky this time." If the both of you get lucky.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x female reader #xmen x reader #xmen smut #xmen x female reader #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #wolverine imagines #wolverine fanfiction #marvel smut #marvelsmut #mcu smut #avengersmsut #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #mcu imagines #marvel imagines #avengers x reader #marvel x fem!reader #mcu x female reader #marvel x female reader #x female reader

[hehe-hoho-ohno]

Submas canon vs fanon

The entire time I have been in the Submas fandom I have seen a lot of confusion about what is canonical and what is a wide-spread fanon. Both in the sense of people thinking things were canon when they were not, and (more rarely) people thinking things were fanon when they were not. So I thought it might be useful to put together a little guide.

Of course, there is nothing wrong with using fanon. I use most of these headcannons in my own fics because I like them and canon is dumb anyway. (Note: pokemon is a huge sprawling mass and tends to contradict itself, and there have been changes across the various games/manga/anime)

All quotations are taken from bulbapidia.

Nimbasa Trio - FANON

Elesa has no connection to Ingo and Emmet besides living in the same place. There is one interaction between them in Pokemon Masters, and while they are on friendly terms they don't appear to be particularly close. Similarly, the idea that Ingo likes bad puns/Emmet does not stemmed from their fanon friendship with her.

Uncle Drayden - FANON

The only confirmed family Ingo and Emmet have are each other.

Cilan is a huge fan - CANON

Cilan is a fanboy of both of them in the anime.

Ingo is the older twin - CANON

In the original Japanese Emmet calls Ingo "nii-san" which means older brother.

"Do you have any siblings? I have an older brother, Ingo."

- Emmet, pokemon masters

Emmet's joltik hoard - FANON

Emmet's galvantula knows the move cross poison. This is an "egg move" which can only be learnt through pokemon breeding. Since it would take several tries to get this move it probably would have left Emmet with a lot of Joltik. In theory. We don't see Emmet with joltiks in canon.

Ingo's kitty smile - CANON

He smiles like that in the manga. (Admittedly, it's not as exaggerated as the full on :3 people sometimes draw him with.) He also briefly smiles in PLA, but less cat-like.

Ingo's perpetual frown is unintentional - CANON

"<player>! Someone just told me something that troubled me deeply! They said that compared to Emmet, I'm too stiff! But that's just a misunderstanding! I know I smile when I'm having fun! I'd even say that I'm quite proud of how expressive I am when I speak! What? You say you've never seen me smile? I-is that so..."

- Ingo, Pokemon Masters

They are both autistic - FANON

They are related to the twin heros - FANON

They share similar themes and motifs to the twin heros/Zekrom/Reshiram but that's it. They have no canon relationship.

Both of them are heavily coded as autistic. However, it's never been directly stated in the games that they are autistic and (to my knowledge) nobody at Game Freak/Nintendo has confirmed anything.

Ingo has a receding hairline - (debatably) CANON

He is drawn with one in the art book. Does the art book count as canon? Until something in the main games says otherwise, probably. (Though there is some argument to be had that it might be an unflattering haircut instead.)

Ingo arrived in Hisui via wormhole - FANON

"For my part, I simply found myself one day here in Hisui, a region whose name I'd never heard... All I could remember was my own name. I was still standing there in bafflement when the Pearl Clan came to my aid."

- Ingo, PLA. (However, the art book depicts the pearl clan finding him facedown on the ground, so take his standing claim with a grain of salt)

We still don't know how he got there. Similarly, it is quite common to show Ingo arriving during a blizzard/freezing to death and generally in poor health/injured/unconsciousness. But the way he recounts it sounds much more peaceful.

It'a also common to have Sneasler be the one to find him. The art book (of dubious canon) shows a human pearl clan member finding him, and Ingo's quote seems to confirm that. It's possible Sneasler was involved but she isn't mentioned.

Ingo got amnesia from hitting his head - FANON

We don't know how he got amnesia.

Ingo remembers Emmet as "the man in white" - FANON

"I'm starting to recall a man who looked... like me. We'd battle and discuss Pokémon, I think... The words "I like winning more than anything else" flashed through my mind just now..."

- Ingo, PLA, about Emmet

He makes no mention of remembering Emmet wearing white or smiling.

Ingo calls her "Lady Sneasler" - FANON

Ingo only calls her Sneasler, no Lady. In fact, nobody calls her or any of the ride pokemon Lord or Lady because...

The ride pokemon are noble pokemon - FANON

There are 10 blessed pokemon descended from the heros of old, and these pokemon are revered by the clans and have wardens. The blessed pokemon are divided into two groups, the rides and the nobles.

The ride pokemon are not called noble pokemon, and they do not get titles. Mai talks about "the great Wyrdeer" but does not call him lord or noble.

"This suggests that even Pokémon that are not nobles can become frenzied..."

- Kamado, PLA, about the ride pokemon Ursaluna seemingly becoming frenzied

Ingo lives in Sneasler's cave - FANON

We don't know where he lives.

Ingo became a Warden because Sneasler liked him - FANON

"I showed a natural affinity for taming Pokémon, which is why I eventually became a warden. But still I wonder what my true purpose is here..."

- Ingo, PLA

There is no further information about his wardenship. There is no information on what his relationship with Sneasler was prior to him becoming her warden.

Ingo likes having photos because of the amnesia - CANON

"Ah, photographs. I appreciate having physical keepsakes—less ephemeral than memories. Would you do me the honor of posing for a photo with me, <player>?"

- Ingo, PLA, at the Photography Studio

Ingo has been in Hisui for XX years - CANON

The art book uses the placeholder XX for the amount of time Ingo has been in Hisui. Some have taken the double digits to mean 10+, however the first digit could easily be a 0. So, we still don't know. Net 0 information.

Emmet must be taking Ingo vanishing badly - FANON

We have not heard from Emmet.

***

That's all for now! I'm sure I've missed or forgotten something, feel free to add stuff in the reblogs! I might edit the list later to add more if needed.

#submas #subway boss emmet #subway boss ingo #nobori #kudari #canon vs fanon #pla #pokemon

[desolationcleo]

reviewing life series ship names

scarian: ideal combination of the names. tends to glow gold in my head probably because of the images of sand and the sun conjured. extra bonus in that sometimes scar uses it to mean person who watches his stuff, giving everyone psychic damage.

cledubs: once again, best combination of the names. fun to say out loud

biggri: sounds sublime when said out loud, same energy as cledubs. when written looks like either the name of or the sound made by an enemy from a fantasy rpg that you choose to use long range attacks against for one reason or another

treebark: YES. oh my god yes. the double meaning. the pun. the cleverness. perfect ship name for them

solidaritek: not bad. great combination there.

impdubs: for some reason i want to dip this ship name in paint

redwood: yes yes yes yes. the invocation of the tallest tree... the impact it'll make when it comes crashing down... <- still not over everything to do with the southlands

shadowrot: look all i'm saying is it's hilarious that cleo's shadow alliance name is also her ship name with lizzie

ethubs: sure why not

smallidarity: hilarious. sounds like someone's url on here, or something that another player would call jimmy to make fun of his height.

redstone winter: why does martyn get all the most god-tier ship names

flower husbands: yeah they sure fucking are

smalletho: is... is he really? how small? can i carry him in my purse?

majorwood: would be good except that martyn's other two boyfriends have ship names with him that are so much better this one just falls flat by comparison

flower ranchers: sounds like a name for a tag team of weirdos who fight bad guys together but like if it was randomly generated using one of those things where your initial and birthdate or whatever determine the name

clethubs: like a combined ultimate powerup form of three sparkly beams in different colours fitting together perfectly

jizzie: jizzie

#trafficshipping

[cupidjyu]

red flavor

eric x reader (submission for the cutest tbz summer event💕)

summary: your planned summer getaway doesn’t go as expected and it’s only you and eric, your childhood best friend. but, new feelings may just join you on your little vacation

genre: summer time!! beach house, childhood friends to lovers (my absolute fav btw), fluff, eric pining for years, getting together, cute little memories, feelings realization, juyeons just there for a second, slow dancing, slight hurt/comfort, eric's love language is fixing your hair, author is a big red velvet fan if you couldn't tell, love confession notes: this is more of a character/relationship study so if youre expecting a super simple oneshot with lesser description then im sorry🥲 songs mentioned are from this specific summer album LOL word count: 7.8k

Sometimes, you just liked to observe. A lot of people did anyway for various reasons. Some people, like your friend Juyeon, observed for the sake of reading others’ needs and emotions. He was always the one to notice when you were upset and he would hurry to make horrible puns just to make you laugh. 

Other people, like Eric who’s been your best friend since the age when you two couldn’t even reach the kitchen counter, observed for the sake of learning who a person was as a whole. He was the one who took note of your tendency to shift energies and he would adjust his own to match yours.

You, on the other hand, liked to observe simply because what you saw brought you back to the past. You treasured good memories, so being able to see them again in the future brought a sense of joy to your heart like a flickering lightbulb.

In Eric’s room, there was a lot to observe that brought back the past. The broken science project of the solar system because you two were dancing too much late at night, the cut-out superhero mask that was supposed to be Eric’s last-minute Halloween costume in middle school, and the foolish paper heart that sparked it all in the first place.

Sitting on his bed, you then observed your two closest friends. Juyeon was on his phone whilst drinking from a water bottle—which he comically once tripped on that led to his lunch tray and its contents flying into your clothes. But that was how you became friends anyway. Eric was simply doodling in his sketchbook with a small, content smile. Just like he had done on that same paper heart in elementary school.

You felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you were met with a boy, about your age with a backpack on that was much too big for him. He had a kind smile and bright eyes.

And then he shoved a red, paper heart in your hands. Though, it took you a second to realize if it even was one with the edges so raggedly cut.

Bringing it up to your face, you read the large, shaky letters with your newly obtained skill of reading words.

“Will you marry me?”

Young Eric simply had bad comprehension skills. Apparently, he wasn't proposing. He just wanted to become friends.

“How does ‘marry me’ and ‘be my friend’ sound at all similar?” You muttered to yourself. 

Eric looked up and groaned. “You’re still on that? I was a baby back then. A cute one at that.” 

“An annoying one at that.”

Eric was about to argue back but Juyeon had spoken up with his lovely and calm voice.

“Let’s not fight. We have a trip to look forward to.”

The two of you immediately brightened at his reminder—the Summer Getaway. The three of you called it that because you all sucked at coming up with a better name. It was the trip that you had been planning since the first year of high school. The beach house to rent, the seaside to visit, everything already was laid out. And after so many years of fumbling with life and its many obstacles, it was finally happening.

“Tomorrow!” Eric sat up. “You’re all going to witness my dreamy beach boy actor debut.”

Juyeon looked at him, unimpressed. “And who’s the love interest?”

You snorted, turning your gaze over to Eric, only for him to be looking straight at you. Widening your eyes, you stuttered in confusion.

“No one,” He curtly said, turning away suddenly, his ears slightly red.

It was awkwardly silent. Until Juyeon nervously laughed. “What about clothes? Summer outfits?” He rambled. “We have to take a lot of pictures.”

You nodded, smiling excitedly. “I bought some just for this trip actually.” You frowned. “My paycheck practically disappeared.”

Juyeon laughed. “Was it as expensive as your prom outfit?”

Again, memories rushed back to you. More negative this time. With a frustrated sigh, you grimaced. “Let’s not bring that up. It was so bad, I looked horrible.”

Juyeon shook his head sympathetically. But your ears picked up someone else’s voice.

“I think you looked beautiful,” You heard Eric whisper. But maybe you were imagining things. 

“Too bad my date dumped me the day after,” You continued.

“He was horrible for that,” Juyeon remarked.

“That’s why you should’ve taken me,” Eric piped up. He got up to sit next to you on the bed. And to your surprise, his hand gently came up to your hair to smooth it down. But of course, that's what friends did.

You nodded in agreement. “I should have. You looked handsome that day.”

Eric glanced at you briefly and you could catch the sight of his cheeks turning red. “Of course I did,” He stammered. 

“Then why didn’t you ask anyone out for prom?” You questioned. “You went all alone.”

“Because you—“ Eric sighed, hurt flitting across his expression. “Nevermind.”

Juyeon coughed anxiously. “So!” He blurted. “The trip! Let’s talk about the trip tomorrow.”

—

“Where’s Juyeon?” Eric called out when he noticed you approaching the car. Yes, you prepared so much for the trip that you even had the car inspected and tested the driver—Eric—to make sure he could properly drive without swerving from talking too much. He did talk a lot.

You shrugged, lugging your bag packed with all the things you needed.

“He’s not here yet?” You frowned.

Eric shook his head with a worried look. “Usually he’s the early one.”

You hummed, standing next to him. And then you looked him over. He had dressed differently, his hair swept up nicely and his skin glowed golden in the sun. You wouldn't admit it but he did give off “dreamy beach boy” as corny as it may have sounded.

After a few minutes, you were about to call Juyeon to make sure he didn’t oversleep until you heard footsteps approaching. Looking up, you breathed out a sigh of relief.

“What took you so long?” You complained.

Juyeon furrowed his eyebrows and that was when you realized that he did not have a single piece of luggage with him. 

“I can’t go,” He breathlessly responded.

Eric inhaled sharply. “What?”

“There’s been an emergency,” Juyeon whined. “Involving my cat.”

You pouted knowing very well that Juyeon absolutely adored his cat and would drop anything for the feline, including this trip that you’d all been planning years ago.

“But go without me,” Juyeon rushed to say. “I don’t want to hold you both back.”

The two of you silently stared at him, disappointment and guilt holding grim over your faces. 

“Please.” His eyes softened. “Just make sure to send pictures.”

—

The car ride that was initially meant to be a karaoke session, turned into a quiet silence. It wasn’t awkward, no, it was never awkward between you and Eric. But it was solemn.

“He did say he’d be fine,” Eric spoke, flipping the right turn signal.

You sighed. “But you know him. He always likes to hide his disappointment.”

Eric shook his head. “He would be more disappointed if he knew we weren’t having fun.”

You thought for a moment. And then you nodded because it was true. You often observed that Juyeon would smile whenever you or Eric would smile first. He was like an older brother to you.

“Okay. Then I’m choosing the first song.” A devilish smile appeared on your lips as you queued up the music.

“Go ahead,” Eric laughed.

When you pressed play, he gasped. He glanced at you with acknowledgment accompanied by a slight wince. “Is this…”

“Mhm,” You giggled. “The song we sang together when we got drunk for the first time?”

“The headache I had after,” Eric groaned. “Never again.” You smiled at the fond memory. 

“And you’re such a clingy drunk.”

“I was not.”

“You literally hugged me and kissed my cheek,” You deadpanned. “You even said—“

Eric had his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a warm back hug, so tight that you could feel his hips and chest pressed up against your back. He smelled faintly of cherry wine and from the corner of your eye, you could see his adorably flushed cheeks and the dazed look in his eyes. “Please, don’t ever leave,” He cried, snuggling his face into your neck. “You’re so special to me.” 

But then again, that’s just what friends say, right? 

Your best friend looked at you in confusion. Ah, he must have forgotten. 

“What did I say?”

“Nothing,” You muttered. Choosing to change the topic, you turned up the volume. And soon enough, you were dancing and singing along to the song like you were on cloud nine. Eric chuckled to himself as he watched you with soft eyes, a small smile tugging on his lips.

You glared playfully. “Eyes on the road, sir.”

Eric rolled his eyes but obliged. For safety, of course. When the song ended, you sat back in your seat and you looked at him. Sometimes you forgot that Eric wasn’t a little boy who played hide and seek with you anymore. He was a man who had grown up to be… fairly attractive. His jawline was sharp now, he was taller, and he had muscles from his endless workouts that you would constantly walk in on him doing. You could see that from the way he had rolled up his sleeves to reveal his forearms, handling the steering wheel with one hand. Taking a gulp, you quickly looked away. What were you thinking?

“Eyes on me?” He lifted an eyebrow, glancing at you teasingly.

You cleared your throat. “No, I— You just look bad today.”

“Mhm,” He hummed smugly. “Sure.”

And for some reason, your cheeks felt unusually warm.

It was a long road trip so naturally, that meant that the evening would come. It was dark out now and the music was long turned off. At some point, you had fallen asleep, the sound of the car engine lulling you easily.

Whilst you were dreaming of a beach house lit naturally by the bright sun, Eric took a glimpse at you. He smiled to himself affectionately, staying quiet. But it faltered when he noticed you shiver from the cool night air. 

Parking to the side for a moment, he reached back to pull out a blanket. Carefully and lovingly, he placed it over you, trying not to wake you up.

But, you always had the tendency to wake up whenever the car was stopped so you felt every single sensation with your eyes still closed. The warmth of his fingertips brushing against your arm, the rhythm of your quickening heartbeat, and… the press of a soft pair of lips on your forehead.

But maybe it was just a dream.

When Eric had started driving, before you dozed off again, you could hear him humming a song. A song that you recognized. A love song.

—

The house was ten times better than what it looked like in the pictures. The exterior of it looked like it came straight out of those real estate magazines. Palm trees decorated the scene and if you had simply turned around, you would be met with the breathtaking sight of the beach with its clear, almost sparkling ocean. Scrambling to explore the inside, you were surprised to see just how big it was. The ceiling was tall and the interior was embellished with various decorations. 

“This is what we deserve after practicing good financial habits for all those years,” You marveled, opening all the doors to reveal gorgeous rooms that were bright simply from the sunlight outside. Just like you had dreamed about. Eric hummed, trailing behind you, taking in the house silently, as opposed to your constant awes.

Finally, the two of you ended up in the master bedroom. 

Turning to him slowly, you put on your best puppy-like impression. “Can I have this one?”

Eric looked at you thoroughly unimpressed. “Is that the best you could do?”

You even pouted this time. He still stared back, completely unabashed. At a loss, you leaned in close, right up to his face. And for some reason, almost immediately, he was backing away with reddening cheeks.

“O-okay,” He stuttered. “Fine. You can have this one.”

Cheering, you flopped down on the bed, and with a sigh, you looked out the window dreamily. “If only my room was this neat all the time. It’s always messy.”

Eric huffed, lying down next to you. You turned your head to him and smiled softly at his serene expression as he looked up to the ceiling. 

“You can always call me if you need someone to clean your room,” He mumbled. “I’m the neatest after all.”

“Ah…” You breathed. “You’re right. Last time when you–”

“Knock, knock.” You could hear Eric’s voice from outside your door. With a slight sniffle, you brought the covers over your face, curling up to yourself. Being hit with a sudden slump that left you unable to do anything except lie in bed defeated wasn’t entirely ideal. 

Your room was an absolute mess and when Eric had called you, he immediately could tell from your voice that you were having a hard time. You heard the door opening and him entering the room. He stood there silently for a moment. But suddenly, you could hear various sounds. Trash being picked up, clothes being folded… peeking your head outside of your blankets, you realized that he was cleaning up for you. 

With tears welling up in your eyes at his kind actions, you sniffled even louder. Eric instantly looked up at the sound and he was right by your side. He pulled you into a hug, whispering sweet, sweet words in your ear as his hand stroked the back of your head soothingly.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” He had whispered, pulling away so that he could brush a strand of hair out of your face gently. Even caressing your cheek, he had let you fall asleep against his chest.

But that’s what friends do, right?

Clearing your throat, you sat up abruptly. Eric followed, staring at you with slight perplexion. Suddenly, you turned to him.

“I never got to say thank you,” You blurted out. “For taking care of me that one time. So… thank you.”

And you had feared he would question what you were talking about. But instead, he nodded with a small smile.

“Of course,” He chuckled casually. “I’ll always care for you, dummy.” 

You smiled at that and then you lunged forward, pulling him into a hug. With your sheer force, he fell back on the bed. And just like that, it was the two of you, giggling and hugging each other, arms wrapped around warmly, in the midst of a beautiful beach house.

–

After unpacking and getting everything in order, you were so exhausted that you had fallen asleep almost immediately. But waking up in the morning was refreshing, with the bright sunshine pouring straight onto your face, warming you up perfectly. With a satisfied yawn and stretch, you walked out of your room, still dressed in your sleepwear.

But you paused abruptly when you saw Eric standing in the kitchen, apron tied around his waist and his sleeves rolled up again. He looked up and he smiled.

“Let’s cook together today.”

You gave him a pained smile and approached him. Before you could even say anything, he was leaning in to brush the messy strands of hair out of your face from just waking up. You’ve always noticed how gentle his hands were on you. When with Juyeon, he was rough and playful. But with you… he treated you like a piece of glass.

“We still suck though,” You complained.

“All the more reason to practice?” He gave you a quirked-up smile. 

Late at night, Eric was sleeping over. But suddenly, he had sprung up, startling you from your dozing off.

“I’m hungry,” He grumbled. “Let’s cook something.” 

And that was how you found yourself, half-asleep in the kitchen, figuring out how to make a simple dish from an old cookbook in one of your drawers. The two of you tried so hard, following each and every direction, only for it to taste like burnt pieces of garbage.

And so, Eric, with a sleepy, raspy voice, had to order takeout. You were silent until your eyes landed on the failed attempt once again. It looked like a blob of black, green, and somehow… pink. And soon enough, you were bent over the counter, laughing so hard over the monstrosity. You had expected Eric to join in on your laughing fit but instead, he had put down his phone and only stared at you fondly.

His eyes were sparkling as they met with yours and he had on the softest tug of his lips. Something in his expression made you stop laughing over how embarrassed you had gotten. Why was he looking at you like that? Almost like he… 

But that’s just how friends look at each other, is it not?

“You look focused,” Eric remarked, brushing past you to flip the pancakes.

“Huh? Oh– yeah,” You breathed out. “I just… remembered something.”

“What’s up?” 

And again, he looked at you like that. Eyes warm and gentle on yours, his smile small yet so, so fond. Your eyes trailed down to where his hand had reached forward, near your waist to steady you from bumping into the sharp corner of the counter. Your cheeks immediately warmed up as you abruptly turned around. 

“N-nothing.”

–

After breakfast and getting ready, you headed out to the nearby outdoor market. It was a beautiful, yet bustling sight. People were in every corner, every stall, buying various things like seashell necklaces and cute jellyfish lamps. Your eyes were practically shimmering and you quickly grabbed hold of Eric’s wrist to pull him along.

At the first stall, a woman was selling beautiful leis. You gasped, picking one up and showing your best friend. He grinned and nodded expectantly.

“What’re you waiting for? Put it on,” He joked. 

You laughed and shook your head. Instead, you stepped forward, looping the pink and purple flower garland around his neck. You could hear the small intake from his lips as he looked down at you, eyes wide. Maybe, you were a bit too close to him. But, you didn’t think much of it as you continued to adjust it and admire the colors that complimented him perfectly.

Well, up until a child had run past, bumping into you and causing you to fall straight into Eric’s arms.

“Oh, I–” You gulped, feeling a warm hand close around your waist, holding you steady. 

“Sorry,” He muttered nervously, his cheeks flushing.

“It’s okay,” You whispered, peering up at him, still pressed against his body. He gazed back and his eyes began to slowly trail down to your… With a cough, you pulled away, refusing to look him in the eye. His hands were always gentle.

Again, you took his wrist to lead him somewhere else. But that was when you felt him pull away. For a second, you thought you might have lost him in the crowd, but he was still right behind you. Instead, his hand closed around yours, his fingers—rough from playing baseball in his free time—intertwining firmly around. You tried to ignore the quickening pace of your heart.

“So you don’t get lost,” He teased.

“You’re the one who gets lost the most,” You retorted, your voice slightly shaky.

At the next stall, there were plushies displayed for sale. Some were badly sewn, like the cat missing a buttoned eye. But some were particularly cute, especially the white bunny keychain, sitting on one of the shelves. 

“Hey,” You mumbled, approaching it. Both ears were intact and upright. “This reminds me of…”

Clutching the bunny plushie with the price tag attached to its ear close to your chest, you looked at Eric with a pleading look. 

“Please,” You complained. “Let me buy it. I promise I’ll pay you back tomorrow. Hm?”

Eric looked at you with narrowed eyes, switching his gaze from you to the plushie. And then he sighed, taking it from your hand. With hopeful eyes, you watched as he walked to the shelf and put it back. And just like that, all your dreams were crushed.

“C’mon.” He urged you away. “That’s dumb.”

“But you know my favorite animals are bunnies,” You whined. But still, you followed him out of the store.

About a week later, he showed up at your door. It was your birthday after all so when your eyes landed on the small present box in your hands, you smiled with delight. He tilted his head with a shy smile.

“Happy birthday,” He whispered, leaning in to pull you into a hug. “I know this isn’t great, but I tried my best.” He smiled at you sheepishly.

When you opened it, sitting inside was a small plushie. Of a bunny. It was so, so badly made, the stitches mangled and the ears practically falling off. But it was so… Eric.

“Is that why you didn’t let me buy the other one?” You questioned, clutching it close to your chest protectively.

He nodded with a completely serious expression. “I didn’t need unnecessary competition.”

And despite rolling your eyes at his comment, you found yourself carefully placing the plushie right at your bedside so it was the first thing you saw when you woke up. 

And to this day, you still have it.

But that’s just what friends do… you think.

Eric had read your mind and quickly, he was grabbing your hand and pulling you away from the stall.

“My sewing skills could be better,” He said with an embarrassed look on his face. You laughed in response. Before you could even say anything else, he was reaching forward to clasp a necklace around your neck. He was so, so close that you could feel his breath across your lips and smell his scent which reminded you a lot like cotton candy. 

“When did you get this?” You whispered, looking down at it. It was a small seashell shaped like a heart.

“Few minutes ago.” He smiled. “But you didn’t notice.”

“I love it.” You grinned. And just like that, you hadn’t reached for his wrist this time, but straight for his hand. With fingers intertwined, the two of you walked down the rest of the market, smiling and laughing all throughout the sunset.

–

Another day had passed and the two of you had mostly stayed inside the beach house, due to the cloudy weather ruining the mood. It was fun nonetheless, watching movies and even playing board games. Which, Eric won all three of them for some reason. You simply call it luck.

Now, laying in your bed, you felt yourself grow drowsy over the ambient noise of the rain pattering on the windows and the occasional rumble of thunder. Sometimes, there would be a flash of light outside–lightning, but you were much too tired to really care.

Just as your eyes were about to shut close, you heard a knock on the door.

“Eric?” You whispered, your voice croaky from sleep.

The door creaked open, and there he was, dressed in a comfy t-shirt. You recognized it. The one that he had once let you borrow because you had spilled coffee all over yourself. It was warm and… well, it smelled just like him.

“What happened?” You frowned, sitting up. He stepped closer and if you looked closely, you could see the tinge of red on his cheeks.

“...you know,” He muttered.

You did know.

Your phone rang, startling you out of your sleep. Despite your initial grumpiness, you picked up when you realized it was your best friend.

“Eric?”

A deep breath from the other line. And then–

“Can you come over?”

You looked at the time. It was two in the morning.

“Why?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“I’m… scared of thunderstorms.” You could even hear his voice tremble. And just like that, you were out the door, umbrella in hand. But the rain was so heavy that it managed to seep into your clothes and hair anyway, leaving you drenched by the time you reached his door.

At the sound of the doorbell, Eric flung the door open. You couldn’t even get a word in because he was pulling you in and he was throwing his arms around you, scrambling to hold you close, his hands grasping onto your shirt tightly. You smiled softly as you hugged him back, even if you were getting his clothes wet too.

“I missed you,” He whispered, tightening his hold. “So much.”

You laughed softly. “I’m right here. You saw me yesterday already, didn’t you?”

“I–” He grumbled, pulling away. His lips were pulled into a tight frown as he searched your eyes with a deeper meaning behind them. “I always miss you.”

That’s not… how friends act, do they?

“Want to sleep here?” You patted the spot next to you, even bringing an extra pillow and adjusting the blankets.

“Gladly,” He grinned. “That’s why I came here in the first place.” In only a matter of seconds, he was climbing into bed with you. The two of you never… slept in the same bed together but it felt so natural with the way your arms wrapped around him and he had snuggled up to your chest.

This is definitely how friends act.

–

The next day was boring. You all had planned it to be the day where each one of you would go off and do whatever separately as a way to individually relax. But, you realized just how much Eric was a part of your life. Wandering the gardens, you found yourself thinking of his stupid puns and his even stupider smile. Truth be told, Eric was always with you. The two of you never went a week without seeing each other. Any much longer than that and Eric was clinging and hugging you for the whole day, saying he needed to “recharge.”

Finally, in the evening, you saw Eric again. He was wearing a comfy, zip-up jacket since the evenings tended to get chilly and his hair was adorably messy. Adorably? Since when did you think that?

“Want to sit with me?” He leaned against the doorway. “My room has a better view.” You nodded brightly and followed him. 

You had never noticed just how beautiful the scenery actually was from his room. Your room mostly pointed towards the various palm trees. But his room, with its wide and tall window that overlooked the whole beach, was different. The two of you sat together on the bed, knees drawn up to your chests, as you observed the constant motion of the ocean water moving back and forth, creating bubbles with it. The night sky was dark, yet it sparkled with twinkling stars dotted across it. 

When you looked over, you saw Eric, looking out the window too. The moonlight shone perfectly on his face, accentuating each of his handsome features. His kind eyes, the slope of his nose, his plush lips that shaped into a soft smile.

He was always handsome. You always knew that. But something about this moment, right now, left your eyes widening, cheeks flushing, and your heart pounding. 

“What do you mean you lost the grocery list?” You whined. “Juyeon wanted this huge Christmas feast. I can’t bear to disappoint him.”

Eric grimaced. “I swear, my dog ate it.”

“You don’t even have a dog.”

The two of you continued to bicker, walking down the numerous aisles of the grocery store, trying to figure out the ingredients to make Juyeon’s favorite food until an elderly couple stopped you in your tracks.

“Aren’t you both an adorable couple?” The woman cooed.

Your jaw dropped and you turned to Eric, only to find that he didn’t share the same shocked expression. He was smiling almost… shyly, the tips of his ears turning red.

“Oh, just look at the way he looks at them,” The man pointed out before turning to his wife. “Just like I had looked at you all those years ago.”

The woman laughed bashfully, batting him away. Then, she turned back to Eric with kind eyes.

“You must love them a lot.” She said with a kind smile.

You were about to jump in and refute, explain everything was all a lie, that you both were just really good friends up until–

“I do,” Eric replied. He looked at you with that same look that he’d been looking at you for ages now. The softening gaze and slight tug of his lips… it was like you were the flame to his wooden match. “I truly do.”

That’s not how friends act.

You swallowed thickly, all words caught in your throat for a moment. That particular moment often flitted past your mind briefly because you thought that he was just playing along. But now that you think about it…

“Did you mean it?” You finally whispered.

He turned to you with a confused smile. “Mean what?”

“That you… love me.” You studied his face for an answer and you had hoped that you wouldn’t find one—that you wouldn’t see the absolutely smitten look on his face that would further complicate your friendship that’s already lasted decades. But you saw it. The smitten look, right there in front of you. It was there and it gave you all the answers that you needed.

He was quiet, watching you with a tender look in his eyes. And then he leaned to the side, bumping his shoulder with yours lightly.

“I meant it,” He replied, smiling to himself shyly. You gazed at him in shock. “But...” He turned to you, his smile faltering slightly. “However you want to interpret that is up to you.”

You bit your lip and tilted your head so that it was resting on his shoulder. It was odd but not that surprising how well it fits in the crook of his neck, almost as if you were always meant to be there. You didn’t say anything right away, instead, choosing to watch the waves roll, over and over. But everything reminded you of the man sitting right beside you. The bright stars in the sky were just like the mischievous twinkle that he would have in his eyes before he would tackle you into a hug and the crystal clear water that flowed in and out on the sand was just like the steady pounding of your heartbeat whenever you caught sight of his pretty smile. 

“As friends or romantically?” You spoke, so quietly that Eric had to lean in even closer to hear you, his hair brushing against your forehead.

He hummed ambiguously. “Whatever you want.” But you could hear the slight tremor in his deep voice.

His words only further answered your question. No matter how hard he would try to make it so that it was all up to you, you could sense everything. The soft tone of his voice, his warm hand covering yours, and his calm breathing. You could sense his feelings. Each and every one of them, like his heart was beating directly through yours.

Slowly, the rustle of the palm trees and the natural sound of his slow breaths gently pulled you into a state of drowsiness. Shuffling so that your whole side was pressed up to his, you leaned closer, nuzzling your cheek into his warm shoulder. And gradually, your eyes closed, sleep overcoming you peacefully.

He smiled down at you, gently bringing you to lie down on the bed. He pulled the blankets over you, tucking you in snugly. And then he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, gazing at you with so much warmth.

“Romantically,” He whispered, brushing a piece of hair out of your face. “It’s always been romantically.”

–

You had woken up to a text from Juyeon. And yes, you have been sending pictures to him, mostly consisting of blurry selfies of you posing perfectly and Eric who wasn’t even looking at the camera, constantly distracted.

Stretching, you realized that you weren’t in your bed. You were in Eric’s bed. And just like that, all the memories came rushing back to you. Romantically or as friends? As friends or romantically? Whichever one was it?

Shaking your head, you opened the text.

Juyeon: did you do the last activity on the itinerary yet?

Juyeon: the beach party

And so there you were, dressed in one of your summer outfits, flowy and perfect for the weather. Eric was beside you, staring in awe at the scene. The two of you had never quite made it to the beach, being so preoccupied with other places to explore. But now that you were here, the sand soft under you and the sun setting in the background, you couldn’t help but smile dearly. You had waited excitedly for this moment really, as Juyeon had claimed that this was a surprise made by him and he had hired someone to set it up.

And set up it was. String lights and lanterns were scattered about, lighting up the scene. There were chairs set up, made to sit together and watch the calm ocean. And on the right, there was a speaker to play music.

“Well isn’t this pretty?” You mumbled, your mouth agape.

Eric smiled, turning to look right at you. “Very pretty.”

Wordlessly, he took your hand in his, leading you toward the lanterns. It wasn’t really a party anymore. You couldn’t help but think that this was actually a beach… a beach date.

You sat down in one of the chairs and you watched as Eric picked up his phone to put on music. Immediately, you recognized the song. 

“You Better Know?” You laughed, remembering all the times you and Eric had belted out Red Velvet songs after failing an exam to cope with the feeling of failure. It never really worked but it was fun either way. 

He shrugged with a charming smile. He began to dance slightly as he walked away to pick up seashells that were scattered across the beach. You watched silently, leaning forward as you let your eyes wander over your best friend. 

Eric truly no longer was the messy boy who scribbled outside the lines on coloring books or the boy who repeatedly tripped on the playground causing his knees to get scraped. He no longer was the boy who experienced constant voice cracks or who struggled in exams because he had overslept with dark circles under his eyes. 

Instead, he was a man with a deeper voice, broader shoulders, and a charming middle part in his hair as opposed to the disorderly, overgrown middle school hairstyle he always had. He was a man who had ditched the dark hoodies in his angsty teenager phase, instead opting for white, flowy button-up shirts that complimented his golden skin perfectly. He even reminded you of Prince Eric–ironically, enough–from The Little Mermaid.

Eric no longer was the boy that you simply were best friends with. He was a man who you have fallen in love with. And you had no idea for how long.

Standing up silently, you approached him. He looked up at you, giving you a soft smile, a beautiful white seashell in his hand.

“Here,” He said, taking your hand in his. He placed the shell in yours, gazing at you with so much affection that you felt a shudder all throughout your spine. “For you.”

You smiled, looking down at it. It was round, embellished with small ridges. It was perfect. The faint sound of the upbeat, song playing in the background as you looked up at him with sparkles in your eyes.

“Eric,” You started. “I have to tell you something.”

And for some reason, he had leaned forward, pressing a finger to your lips to shush you. You let out a muffled sound, gaping at him in bewilderment.

“Eric?”

“Let me speak first,” He whispered. 

You inhaled sharply…

“Romantically.”

…held your breath…

“My answer is romantically.”

… and exhaled shakily, processing his confession, one word at a time. But before you could, Eric was saying more.

“For the longest time, I’ve had the biggest crush on you. Ever since I saw you back in elementary school. And mayhaps, I did mean that stupid ‘will you marry me?’ statement,” He chuckled. He reached forward taking your other hand in his, wrapping his fingers around. “Over time I… I tried to get over you. But, since you’re my best friend I couldn’t distance myself. So I accidentally fell in love.”

You felt your heart pound at his words, all of your memories rushing back in full force. It all had started to make sense. The acts of service when you weren’t feeling well, the soft looks when you were only laughing, the homemade gifts even though he claimed that he hated making things, and the… words. The specific word love.

“Eric, I…”

“Ah, wait,” He laughed. “This song.”

Red Flavor by Red Velvet. The classic, happy summer song. 

And suddenly, he reached forward, pulling you in by the waist. “Can I sing for you?”

You snorted, your cheeks flushing once you registered the warmth of his large hand on the small of your back. “This song?”

“Mhm,” He hummed, grinning. “This song.”

And before you could retort, he actually started singing, Swaying you from left to right, his arms continuously wrapped around you, his deep voice resonated through the cozy summer night, igniting each and every star one by one. He sang the pre-chorus, gazing at you with affection and well, love.

"I like you, it was love at first sight. I keep thinking of you." His lips pulled up into a soft smile as he sang, his voice husky and a great contrast to the higher-pitched voices of the actual song. You were enamored, your heart beating right against his chest as you watched him silently, watching as he sang so, so, gently. Only for you and for you only. “I want to go my own way.”

And then the chorus started with its fun beat and cheerful singing. You giggled, placing your hands on his chest, leaning forward to hide in his neck. 

“This song does not fit the moment right now,” You remarked, smiling against his skin. You could feel the vibration of his deep laugh as he held you closer, his hands stroking your sides gently.

“But at least it got the confession down. So, what’s your answer?”

You laughed, pulling away to look up at him lovingly. He smiled down at you, his eyes wandering over each of your features fondly.

“The very last line,” You replied. He had grown silent at that, listening to each of the lyrics, waiting for the end. And then–

What I like the most is you in the summer.

Eric widened his eyes and he looked down at you hopefully. “Really?”

You nodded, your cheeks flushing. “Not just like. Love.”

“Oh, wow,” He breathed out. And again, just like he had done all those other times, he brushed a piece of hair out of your face, his fingers brushing against your skin with sparks accompanying it. “God, I’m so in love,” He muttered. And just like that, the next song had started—Hear The Sea—playing softly in the background.

You laughed, “Did you just put on a whole Red Velvet playlist?”

“And what about it?” He grinned. “It’s summer.” And slowly, he pulled away, not before looping your hand in his. His hand rested on your waist, holding you close. To the calm singing and beautiful instrumental of the song, the two of you danced. Sometimes, either one of you would trip on the sand, causing an endeared laugh here and there. But mostly, the silence between you was filled with soft smiles and flushed cheeks.

Even though Eric no longer was the boy who ran around when it was summertime, he always would be the boy with the most beautiful smile. 

His eyes were bright on yours, watching you closely as the two of you swayed slowly to the music. 

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this for?” He whispered.

You shook your head, feeling hot all over. 

“So long,” He continued. “I’ve always longed to dance with you.”

You smiled. “And what else?”

“Hold you.”

You hummed. “You always loved doing that.”

But then his eyes darkened on you for a moment. “And… kiss you. Though I haven’t done that one yet.”

Your breath hitched, your dancing coming to a halt. “Then do it.”

He gazed at you softly. “Are you sure? There’s no rush.”

“Think for yourself.” You giggled. “How long exactly have you waited to kiss me?”

He paused, and both of his hands came down to grasp your waist this time. “Years. I’ve waited for years.” He looked at you shyly, his eyes adorably hopeful and loving.

“Then act.”

And so he did.

Almost aggravatingly slow–as if to make sure he really had your consent–he tilted his head and he softly placed his lips on yours. Shutting your eyes closed, you allowed yourself to get lost in the addictive feeling, the soft pull of your lips and the gentle grasping of your waist as he pulled you so close that your bodies were flush against each other. 

It was like everything was drowned out. In your ears, you could no longer hear the crash of the waves on the shore. Instead, you could only make out the quiet, satisfied hum that escaped Eric’s parted lips. You couldn’t feel the summer breeze blowing against your skin, you could only feel the warmth of the palm of his hand as it came to cup your jaw, tipping your head slightly so he could kiss further.

It was a soft kiss, filled with sparks that would set off fireworks in the very pit of your stomach. Slow movements without fervor, as it was just Eric, kissing you like he must have been dreaming of doing all these years. The hand on your waist fit perfectly around you and so you couldn’t help but melt into his touch, stepping closer. Eric huffed out a quiet laugh as he blindly guided your hand to where his heart was where you could only feel it beat and beat and beat.

And with a tap against his chest, the two of you broke apart, lips red and slightly swollen. You stared at him in silence before bursting out into shy laughter, lunging forward to hide your face in his shoulder. Eric sighed softly, wrapping his arms around you once again, but this time with a different feeling. Love, maybe. 

“Who knew that this trip would force me to confess?” He wondered to himself.

“Good.” You scowled. “You took too long.”

“Oh?” He smirked. “But look who finally figured out their feelings on this very trip?”

Your cheeks flushed and you playfully shoved him. “Stop it.”

“Say it.”

You frowned in confusion. “Say what?”

“You know what I mean,” He teased. “I want to hear you.”

You gulped and looked down at the sand. “That I… love you?”

“Mhm,” He hummed. “I love you too.”

And then he pulled something out of his pocket. When he unfolded it, he placed it in your hand which was still clutching onto the seashell. You looked down, only to realize that it was another red, paper heart. Written in neater, more legible handwriting this time, were the words, 

“Will you date me?”

“Ah,” You breathed out. “So you finally get the words right.”

He rolled his eyes. “Is that a yes or no, my beautiful?”

“My,” You laughed. “If you use my, then that means I’m already yours.”

“You’ve always been mine.” His eyes sparkled.

“Then my answer is yes,” You whispered before smiling and leaning up to peck his lips once again. He was about to pull you into a full-fledged kiss but you giggled before running away, kicking behind flurries of sand. Eric groaned and he began to chase you down the shoreline.

“You can’t do that after you’ve just kissed me!” He complained. 

“Too bad.” You stuck your tongue out. His frown turned into a fond smile as he laughed and ran after you.

You didn’t know exactly when, but the two of you somehow ended up in the water–clothes that weren’t meant for swimming, thoroughly soaked.

He looked at you with a loving smile as he waded over to you, his hair slightly damp from your splashing. Huffing out a fond laugh, he quickly trapped you into his embrace. And then he turned you, his back to the rest of the ocean so that you wouldn’t be hit by the waves. Smiling at you, he pulled you back in, his lips, wet from the water, pressing onto yours.

“You taste like the ocean.” You grinned after pulling away.

“And you taste delicious.”

“Oh my.” You gasped. “Why are you flirty now? I only know the clumsy, foolish Eric.”

“There’s much more to learn about me,” He whispered, grinning widely as he reached a hand out of the water to brush away a strand that had stuck to your forehead. “Just you wait. I’d even write a whole novel for you. And you know I failed literature class.”

You laughed, clearly remembering the defeated look on his face when he had checked his exam grade. 

“I learned something already,” You quietly said. A particularly harsh wave almost shoved you both off your feet, but Eric was quick to steady you with his hands. Always so gentle and firm.

“And what’s that?”

“That you’re an excellent kisser.”

He laughed adorably before pressing a kiss to your lips again. 

“And I knew something already,” He uttered. "For a while now."

“Hm?” A smile grew on your face.

“That I’m so–” A peck on your cheek. “So…” Another on the tip of your nose. “So in love with you.” And finally, a kiss on your lips. 

The truth is, that neither of you cared if the ocean was trying its best to knock you both over. Your blooming love and soft, adoring smiles in between kisses were steady enough to hold you up.

Because that’s just how friends act. Or more specifically, how two best friends who fell in love with each other act.

–

You sent one thing to Juyeon on the last day of your trip. Attached, was a selfie of the two of you, kissing softly, the ocean and the moon in the background. 

Juyeon immediately opened it. And then the bubbles of his texting appeared and disappeared, for over three minutes. When his message appeared, you laughed loudly at the one word that appeared on the screen.

Juyeon: finally 

#deoboyznet #dbn: summer on you #fics 💞 #the boyz imagines #the boyz reactions #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #tbz imagines #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenarios #tbz x reader #eric sohn x reader #eric sohn fluff

[boytoyhalo]

Can you give me your fitpac headcanons to make me feel better after whatever the fuck Bad's stream was today. I am so unwell...

absolutely i can!!! let's see here hmm

pac likes to sleep/cuddle with fit sprawled out directly on top of him, like actively crushing him, because the deep pressure makes him feel safe (i think I said this in a different post but accidentally switched the names around, tho tbh i could see this being true both ways so maybe they take turns)

pac's ring markings glow bright blue when he's flustered or startled (see my blue ringed octopus hybrid pac headcanon) fit discovered this for the first time with the "how you doin big daddy" incident and since then fit has been going out of his way to sneak up on pac to make it happen because he thinks it's cute, this is also part of why he's gotten more confident with his flirting

fit would never say it out loud (partially because it would embarass him and mostly because he knows it would embarass pac) but he actually capital l Loves it when pac says his name with the "-tch" sound at the end. he thinks about it more than he shoud probably

this is less of a headcanon and more a writing prompt or like. a scenario that i think would happen but i think that at some point they'd be goofing around and threatening each other over whose a better fighter (they both think its each other but theyre arguing for themselves. for the bit) and fit would take off his prosthetic arm to hold it in his other hand and point it at pac like a sword and pac would be all oh yeah i can do that too and try to take off his leg standing up and would of course immediately overbalance and fall and fit would rush to check if he's ok while laughing his ass off and pac would use the leg to knock his legs out from under him so they would both be on the ground laughing so hard they couldn't breathe. and then fit would make a stupid pun about pac "not having a leg to stand on in this argument"

speaking of prosthetic's pac normally likes to keep his metal leg covered but the first time fit gets a proper look at it he's like woah your prosthetic looks so cooler and sleek and high tech i wish mine was like that and pac preens because he made it himself (ok it was him and mike but thats practically the same thing) and after that pac starts wearing his right pant leg rolled up (fit is only half of the reason, the other half is that it makes richarlyson feel better about his own leg but this is a fitpac post)

they both Really Like watching each other fight, hence the dungeon dates, but their favorite part is after all the mobs are cleared when they're cleaning their weapons and sorting through loot and just sitting quietly together basking in the shared victory and adrenaline and praising and complimenting each other for a fight well done

fit is aroacespec (he can count the amount of people he's been actually attracted to on one hand) and between that and his trust-no-one 2b2t background he's pretty inexperienced with most relationship related things, so pac is a lot of firsts for him. Pac not-so-secretly loves this because he's possessive and likes that no one else gets the type of attention he does from fit

fit starts wearing his glasses more often when he's not expecting combat or some other situation that will make them too inconvenient because pac says he looks cute in them

pac likes to make fit carry him on his back because 1. he likes the contact and 2. its fun to feel tall. the first time this happens it's because pac's metal leg takes a hit during a battle and is basically useless til he can repair it, so fit carries him back to chume labs out of necessity. After that pac usually makes up an excuse or plays up any hits he take so fit will do it again, except he's really bad at lying so fit knows what he's doing but he doesn't mind so he doesn't call him out on it

pac's hair looks really soft and fit realllly wants to run his hands through it but he's way too awkward to ask because that feels like a line being crossed and whenever pac runs his own hands through it fit just stares like a total weirdo which tubbo and phil both make fun of him for but somehow even then pac doesnt seem to notice. it takes him a long ass time to mention it to pac who he then finds out really likes having his hair played with and has been wanting fit to do it for forever but has also felt too awkward to ask. and then they laugh at themselves for being dumbasses (and then when they kiss for the first time and every time after that fit's flesh hand immediately goes up to his hair)

fit mentions that when he gets overstimulated sometimes its too much effort to remember to take his hearing aids out so pac asks if he can borrow them for a little bit and gives them back to fit with a new noise cancelling feature, and fit has to stop himself from literally proposing marriage right then and there. He settles for just cleaning chume labs top to bottom and leaving some chocolate and an embarassingly sappy thank you note that would read as a straight up love confession to anyone outside of him and pac's oblivious-but-also-not-oblivious slowburn-but-not-slowburn bubble

sometimes if pac is tired but cant get to sleep he'll go find fit and ask him to just talk at him for a bit because his voice is relaxing and if he falls asleep with his head on fit's shoulder or in his lap fit will sit as still as a rock for hours to not wake him up

ok ok you got me rambling this post is way too long now and most of these can barely count as headcanons but yippeeee i hope u like them!!!! everything will be ok we will have our morning crew and fitpac content back soon i promise

#fitpac #headcanons

[secretagentspydetectiveninja]

The new trilogy means we finally got official French translations of the fifth and sixth games (the fourth already had one) so I did my thing and played through them, since they're always a lot of fun. Here are some things about French Dual Destinies I thought you might like to know:

Yes, it's set in France as per usual. They are all French people who live in Paris. And yes, that means that in this universe there is a Japanese village themed around yokai within throwing distance of Paris.

Athena lived in America in this version, and therefore peppers her speech with English and Spanish. My favourite unhinged franglais line was "let's get au travail" which I will be using from now on because it's hilarious

Many characters got French pun names again. Simon's name is "Jack Lamenoire" -- Jack, because the French version of Simon Says uses the name Jack/Jacques, and "lame noire" means "black blade". (Also he's not British or anything in this version, he just speaks in somewhat old-timey French.)

He has multiple nicknames for the judge that are all slight variations of "Your Baldness". He doesn't do that "-dono" suffix thing but he does refer to Phoenix in particular as "Maître Wright".

...I don't like pointing out things I didn't like buuuuuut his voice is a huge downgrade. Actually, to be honest, I don't like the new French voices that much in general... idk man they just don't sound very enthusiastic...

Filch's name is "Arsène Loupet", reference to the famous fictional thief Arsène Lupin, which I thought was pretty cool! (Herlock Sholmes was also a reference to that series too btw!)

Athena and Apollo use informal pronouns for each other pretty much from the get-go, but there have been some changes from the previous games: Phoenix now uses the informal "tu" for Apollo (and Athena) whereas in the prev game he didn't, Pearl now uses "tu" for Phoenix as well, and Klavier uses "tu" for Apollo now (but Apollo still calls him the formal "vous" lmao)

SPEAKING OF... SPEAKING OF. The French localisation continues to utterly baffle me when it comes to Klavier (or Konrad as he's called in French). No listen, liSTEN. In the previous game he was specifically stated to be English and did his law exams in England and dropped English words into his speech (and this is still the case in the trilogy version, I checked). But now?? They seem to have gone back on it and in this game he says he's German again, like the in English translation??? But he's still dropping English words into his speech randomly????? Look I already went through the five stages of grief when I found out they'd english-ified him, I made my peace with it, and NOW they change it???????

God and his new French voice sucks too (his old one was actually good)... what have they done to you my poor boy, was making you English not bad enough T_T Oh and he and Athena didn't even get their little language club moment where they both start speaking in the same foreign language?? Like, that just straight-up didn't happen here and I had been waiting for it aauuugh it's cool it's fine it's cool i'm okay i'm--

True to Dual Destinies fashion, there are still typos. In an emotional moment, Apollo took a leave of asbence from the office. Not absence. Asbence.

I can't put my finger on it but Robin's coming out scene felt more... respectful in French? The English translation was done over a decade ago so it feels somewhat dated, maybe that's why... I obviously don't know if she was purposely written to be a trans girl but she very much comes across that way, and it feels like the French translators were aware of that interpretation and took it into account, idk maybe it's just me

THEY GOT RID OF MY FAVOURITE LINE. THE FORESHADOWEY ONE WHERE SIMON TELLS ATHENA THAT THE PERSON SHE WANTS TO SAVE MORE THAN ANYONE ELSE IN THE WORLD DOESN'T DESIRE HER DEFENCE, AND HE'S CLEARLY TALKING ABOUT HIMSELF. THE FRENCH MADE HIM SAY SOMETHING ELSE WAY LESS COOL. I don't wanna be like "FRENCH TURNABOUT ACADEMY IS DEAD TO ME" because most of it was awesome, but man these occasional things made me wanna flip tables

Cosmic Turnabout and Turnabout for Tomorrow were great in French though, so there's that. Clay's French name is "Pierre" which worked surprisingly well because it means stone or rock, and the moon rock was also called that, so like, the phantom had to kill Pierre in order to get the pierre... idk it worked and it was cool

Simon and Athena switch to using informal pronouns for each other very near the end of the game, in the scene where they work together to psychologically mess with the phantom. It's around the time when they start openly calling each other by first name since everyone knows now that they're old friends.

Phoenix and Edgeworth also occasionally refer to each other by first name in this game, which threw me off completely. (Reminder that Edgeworth's French name is "Benjamin Hunter". Just picture Phoenix standing in front of Edgeworth and calling him BENJAMIN. Now you understand how absolutely bizarre it felt.)

Here's the entirety of The Dissin' of Phoenix Wright in French

#ace attorney #dual destinies #aa5 spoilers #random stuff #there's actually a fan translation of this game too but last i checked it wasn't publicly available yet #i think i'd still like to play it though. i know they worked super hard on it #i'll make a post about the next game as well when i can be bothered bc i have stuff to say about that too

[apolloskazoo]

ELLIE & JOEL HEADCANONS PART 2

Here’s the part 2 you people (me) have been asking for. Once again 1k words because I cannot control myself

• When Ellie is looking a little down or bored and Joel isn’t right beside her, he’ll make a silly little face at her from across the room to get her to laugh a little. She always makes one back to get him to laugh, too. They can make each other laugh from literally across the room with one single look. 

• Joel keeps everything Ellie makes. Drawings, school assignments, anything and everything he can get his hands on. He has stacks of papers and other things Ellie has made just lying in his drawer or pinned up on the fridge. Ellie always talks about how lame it is, and how they’re not even good, and blah blah blah, but Joel just snatches that paper right out of her hands and pins it up on the wall because he LOVES HIS DAUGHTER. 

• One time Ellie got a cut, and while Joel was patching it up he jokingly said, “want me to kiss it better?” Ellie doesn’t understand what that even means and Joel has to explain. Now whenever she gets a cut she forces him to kiss it better because 1) it’s funny 2) to make fun of him when he said it the first time and 3) maybe she wants a Joel kiss, is that so much to ask for?

• In Jackson, Ellie learns that hardwood floors and socks can create a Very Fun Activity (sliding around a room in bare socks) and Joel has a near death heart attack every time she does it because he’s convinced she’s going to slide into a wall one day (she does).

• Joel 100% snores SO LOUDLY like the dad he is and Ellie complains about it non-stop, but in reality she can’t fall asleep without the sound of his annoying dad snores, whether they’re right in her ears or coming distantly from down the hall. It helps her know that he’s alive and okay and that he’s with her, and also it’s become like white noise since it was all she could hear during the nights they were traveling (she would tease him endlessly about raiders finding them by the sound of his snoring alone. He did not find it as funny as she did). 

• Joel is known as the “pun guy” by the other adults at Jackson, and whenever there’s a new resident they all tell them that if they have any puns, give them to Joel. The entire reason the name started up was because whenever Ellie was having a bad day, telling her a pun she hadn’t heard before would cheer her up, but he didn’t know enough of them—so, obviously, he went around telling everyone that if they knew any puns, give them to him. He has people approaching him and telling him puns weekly, and he suffers through it just to see the look on Ellie’s face when she’s sad and he tells her them to get her to smile.  

• Ellie eats things off of the floor. Don’t get me wrong, she’s NOT running around grabbing week old pieces of food off of the dirty ground, but she thoroughly believes in the five second rule and not wasting food (because of FEDRA school and not eating on the road and such, but I won’t get into that). So if she drops some food on the ground, she’ll quickly snatch it up and keep eating it, because of old habits. The first time Joel sees her accidentally tip her plate onto the floor, snatch it up in record speed, and keep eating it? He’s horrified. Speechless. Beyond shocked. Ellie Williams? Who? You mean the kid who just ate the same food that landed on the floor five seconds ago like some sort of deranged animal? Yeah, he didn’t know her, she was just some random kid. What do you mean, you saw him walking in with her when they first arrived? He’s never spoken to her a day in his life before, because if he had, he certainly would’ve taught her not to eat off the damn ground. He 100% pulls her aside, dumps the food into the trash, and lectures her on not trying to beat the world record of “person who caught the most sicknesses in under a week.” Ellie doesn’t see the big deal (“at least I’m not wasting food, Joel. And it’s hardly even dirty anyway, it was on the ground for, like, a second”) but after he starts listing off all of the diseases she could get she agrees to stop, if only to get him to stop talking. 

• Joel teaches Ellie how to build and fix things, and essentially teaches her all of the stuff he learned as a contractor and mentors her. He loves teaching it to her because it’s his work and he loves to share it with her, and Ellie loves to learn it, too. When he’s working on houses or repairs in Jackson, she tags along and helps, and she likes feeling like her and Joel share a skill together, plus she thinks building is pretty rad. Also, if she and Joel share work, they get to see each other more often, which is a bonus. They’re building buds. They have matching construction hats. 

• They take walks together, especially during the time when the sun is setting and it’s a bit cooler on hot days. Sometimes they just walk and talk, and other times Ellie brings her sketchbook and Joel brings something to carve and they walk to a river or back to the porch or somewhere peaceful, and they just sit down and do their thing. Joel works on what he’s working on, Ellie draws what’s around her or what’s on her mind. They just exist peacefully beside each other, silently bonding and doing their separate tasks beside one another. 

• Ellie pets every animal she sees. A dog is passing by? Joel, stop walking, she needs to pet him NOW!!!!! Is there a cat in the window? She will spend thirty minutes trying to get the cat to trust her enough that it will let it pet her, and an hour later it’s in her lap purring and whatever she was trying to get to has already closed up, and Joel is running to find her in a panic. She 100% brings a rat home one day and asks Joel if they can keep it (she named it Chef Boyardee Ratvioli. She does not, unfortunately, get to keep it). 

• Alternatively, Joel is such a big lame dad that he has to interact with every baby he sees. A baby is crying? Here, let Joel hold it, he’ll calm it down. Is that baby staring at him as he walks by? He’s waving and when the baby waves back he cannot control his smile. Yes, of course he’ll watch someone’s infant son for a second while they go to the bathroom despite not knowing either of them. Yes, he cries when he holds Tommy’s baby for the first time and yes, Ellie does indeed make fun of him for it (she cried, too, though, don’t listen to her lies). 

• Ellie has a hard time sleeping at night while they’re traveling, so instead of just lying down and struggling to sleep, she talks to Joel every. Night. About everything. She reads him stupid puns. She tells him dinosaur and space facts. She tells him funny made-up stories. She chats about literally everything and anything, and Joel is baffled on how much she can still talk after a whole day of walking. He complains non-stop on how he wants to sleep and she needs to shut up, but eventually he gets used to it and he even, gasp, looks forward to hearing her non-stop nighttime chattering, which usually ends in Ellie talking herself to sleep halfway through a sentence. 

Part 3 only if y’all like these and I get inspired again

#tlou #the last of us #ellie williams #joel miller #the last of us hbo #ellie and joel #joel and ellie #hbo the last of us #headcanons #the last of us headcanons #btw there may or may not #be a chef boyardee ratvioli fic #appearing out in the world someday #seems like it would be fun to write #and that pun? killer. joel will drop dead when he hears it #so yeah if the unseen forces allow it there will be a ratvioli!!!!!

[remidyal]

FHJY New Names over-analysis post

We're a few days past an episode that introduced a lot of new npcs and ideas and all, and I figured I'd dig into some of the names and references and all that I noticed to see if any hints might have been snuck in there for the rest of the season.

Interim Emergency Backup Principal Arcturus Grix: A couple of different things in here, but I'll just get what I think is the most likely one out of the way: Arcturus is a star that is part of the constellation Bootes (a herdsman in various myths), and the name translates to 'guardian of the bear'.

Or, perhaps, guardian of the owlbears.

Brennan absolutely seems like someone who would have at some point been way into constellations and their stories so I'd put money on this being an intentional stealth-ish pun.

I think Grix is just supposed to sound machine-y but I might be missing it.

Terpsichore Skullcleaver: Back on the Greek mythology theme, Terpsichore is one of the Greek Muses, and specifically is the Muse of Dance. Obviously a wildly appropriate name for a dance teacher who is hopefully going to actually inspire Fabian.

Skullcleaver presumably means she is of some relation to Katja, of course.

Lucillia Lullaby: I mean, this one is pretty obvious; a Lullaby is a type of song, and from what she saw she seems to be a pretty calming presence to suit attempting to get a toddler to sleep as that song type does. This name was actually, unlike the two above, on the payroll list from freshman year so it's a lot more directly on the nose (because, frankly, Brennan was coming up with like 30 npcs who would probably never appear).

Tiberia Runestaff: Runestaff similarly is just kind of obvious and also was on the freshman year list; Tiberia as a name literally just means born near the river Tiber, and so I think was chosen mostly because it sounds kind of severe and wizard-y.

Yolanda Badgood: Also from the freshman year list, and I suppose it would take someone both bad and good to teach students of both 'good' and 'evil' divinities. Brennan's gotten better at his NPC names over the years, or just it's hard to do a freaking list. I sympathize, as someone who keeps a random name generator tab open while GMing. Also, on a random note, the freshman year list has a driver's ed teacher (one Alphonse Doublefist) and I NEED a scene of Fig having to take driver's ed because she's been driving without a license for two years.

Mazey Phaedra: Mazey is such a groanworthy name for a minotaur-adjacent person that I'm surprised they didn't throw things at him for it; Phaedra is another Greek myth name, this one of the daughter of Minos (of building-the-maze fame) and also a whole other thing we don't have time to get into because it might start Discourse and that probably isn't relevant because it's really just another Minotaur reference.

CUS Dabus: One of the universities Riz looks at, I mostly want to call it out because of being a reference to my personal favorite official DnD setting. It's mentioned as being in the City of Doors, which is the nickname of course of the extra-planar city of Sigil. The Dabus are a race that are the entourage of the mysterious Lady of Pain, the very-definitely-not-a-god who loosely rules over that city. I doubt we ever really visit Sigil, but who knows, we've been to the Nine Hells and the cosmological stuff seems to largely conform to traditional DnD.

#fhjy #fhjy spoilers #mazey phaedra #yolanda badgood #tiberia runestaff #lucille lullaby #terpsichore skullcleaver #interim emergency backup principal grix

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Fortunately Unfortunate

Jesse x GN!Reader

Summary: Jesse’s number is drawn in a lottery, forcing him to participate in a cross-training event with the 212th, and he’s not happy about it. However, his view of the training mission changes when he crashes into your life, literally.

Pairing: Jesse x GN!Reader

Characters: Jesse, Rex, Cody, Waxer, Boil, Sinker, Violet (OFC)

Tags & Warnings: 18+, grumpy Jesse, vehicular accident, no injuries, clone jokes, bad puns, shirtless clones, fluff, humor, angst with a happy ending, implied sexy time offscreen, suggestive themes

Word Count: 9.2k

Author's Note:  Apologizing now for the word count (my small ideas never stay small), and for the fact that this fic only went through two rounds of editing before posting... This fic was written for @snippy-tano as part of the @rare-clone-fic-exchange. I hope you like it sweetie, and I hope you don’t mind the additional side characters 😘 As always, please enjoy 💚

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Tradition

“You can’t be serious?” Jesse groans with an exaggerated eye roll.

“I am,” Rex answers. “Your number was drawn, so you’re going.”

Jesse grunts. “This program is stupid!”

“This program is tradition,” Rex retorts.

“Can’t you send Fives?” Jesse asks. “He loves this stuff.”

“Fives’ number wasn’t drawn, yours was,” Rex crosses his arms and scowls. “ You’ll just have to learn to love it too.”

“But–”

“That’s an order,” Rex interjects.

Jesse grits his teeth. “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Rex hands Jesse a data-pad. “Your transport leaves in an hour. I suggest you take that time to adjust your attitude. Cody is a good friend of mine and I don’t need you giving him grief.”

Jesse takes the data-pad. “Yes, sir.”

Rex turns to leave and Jesse is left in the cargo bay alone. He sighs as he sits down on a crate to review his new orders. Every month, the battalions swap a few clones in the name of “cross-training”. The clones are picked at random via lottery, and unfortunately for Jesse, his number was drawn this month. Out of the millions of clones, why did it have to be him? It’s not that he’s opposed to cross-training, but he shouldn’t be forced to leave his own battalion to do it.

Jesse swipes through the data-pad and skims over the details. He’s been assigned cross-training with the 212th attack battalion, specifically their ARF unit. He scoffs. The 501st has an ARF unit, and a darn good one. There’s no reason for him to be shipped off-world to play ARF trooper with a different battalion. If the GAR wants to cross-train clones so badly, then he should be able to do it with his own brothers, not with a bunch of clones he doesn’t know.

Jesse sets the data-pad down next to him on the crate and shakes his head. He wants to make Rex proud, but his heart just isn’t in it. Even if meeting a marshal commander does sound interesting, he knows he won’t be working with him exclusively. He’s an ARC, and he wants to do ARC things, and go on ARC missions with Fives and Echo. It's a shame that he’s missing out on their newest assignment. It sounded like a wild ride, and he was looking forward to it.

The intercom speaker interrupts Jesse’s thoughts to notify him that his transport is boarding and will be departing soon. With a heavy sigh, he hops off the crate, grabs his data-pad, and makes his way to the transport. He straps in and closes his eyes, letting his mind go blank as the transport whirs to life and delivers him to his new temporary post. The time it takes to get there is just under one standard rotation, so he takes this time to try to prepare himself for anything.

The transport lands and as the ramp descends, Jesse raises an arm to shield his eyes from the bright sun and the dust swirling into the transport. He steps down the ramp and observes his new surroundings, which isn’t much to look at. It’s a desert planet with little to no vegetation, and the sun glares down hot onto his plastoid armor. He experimentally grinds his foot into the tan earth beneath him and it shifts like powder until he reaches a layer of rock underneath.

“You must be Jesse,” Cody says on approach.

Jesse looks up to see the commander and straightens himself to attention. “Yes, sir!”

“Welcome to the 212th,” Cody gestures for Jesse to follow him. “I’ve heard good things about you from Rex. He says you’re one of his best.”

Jesse follows next to Cody as they make their way to the command center. “Just doing my duty to the Republic, sir.”

“He also mentioned that you’re not particularly fond of this assignment,” Cody adds.

Jesse grimaces and tries to backpedal. “With all due respect, sir, I only meant that I’d rather not be away from my brothers at the 501st when they might need me.”

“Fair enough,” Cody says. “However, if the survival of the entire battalion rests on you being there at all times, then perhaps Rex should be demoted.”

Jesse scrunches his face with indignation and raises his voice. “Captain Rex is–”

Cody turns on his heels to face Jesse and crosses his arms in a silent word of caution.

Jesse takes a startled half-step back and holds his tongue. “Nevermind, sir,” he stammers with embarrassment.

The rest of the walk to the command center is silent. Jesse kicks himself as he realizes how far he stuck his own foot into his mouth. So far that he’s surprised he hasn’t choked on it yet. He doesn’t want to embarrass Rex, yet here he is picking a fight with a marshal commander. It’s definitely one of the dumber things he’s done in his life. But, when it comes to his captain, Jesse finds it difficult to control his emotions. Their history together is too deep not to defend him.

When they enter the command center, Jesse sees two ARF troopers in camouflage armor with colors matching the tan dust that’s been sticking to him since he arrived. He also sees another trooper in gray and white armor standing next to them. As he gets closer, he can hear them chatting away about something nonsensical. He eyes the three clones and mentally sizes them up; not entirely sure what to make of them yet, but he’ll reserve judgment for now.

“This is Lieutenant Waxer and Boil,” Cody gestures with his hands. “They’re part of our elite ARF unit, Ghost Company, and will be conducting your training for the next few rotations.”

The four clones trade head nods of acknowledgement.

Cody turns to Jesse and the clone with gray armor. “I expect you to address them as you would a commanding officer, with respect. Follow their orders and do what they ask of you.”

“Yes, sir!” Jesse and the other clone affirm.

Cody nods. “I’ll leave you to it.”

A moment of silence passes between the four clones as an awkward air blows in.

Waxer is the first to speak up. “Do you guys have names?”

“I’m Jesse,” Jesse answers and stretches out his hand to shake that of the two ARFs. “With the 501st.”

The clone in the gray armor follows suit. “I’m Sinker, with the 104th.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Boil adds.

Another awkward silence passes between the clones and Jesse starts to question the validity of his new assignment. Perhaps this whole thing is a big joke and he can board the next transport off this dust bowl. He absentmindedly grinds his foot into the dusty floor, a habit he picked up somewhere during the war to keep him from running his mouth when he’s bored. If someone doesn’t say something soon, he might, and they probably won’t like what it is.

“Alright, boys,” Waxer says with a gesture of his head towards the door. “We’re heading out to the corral.”

“Corral?” Jesse asks, raising an eyebrow. “Are we learning to ride animals?”

Boil chuckles. “Sort of.”

Jesse looks at Sinker, hoping that he’s on his side about how crazy this whole thing sounds.

Sinker shrugs. “Sounds fun.”

The three clones head out of the command center, leaving Jesse alone in his bewilderment. When his brain catches up to him, he jogs up to the rear and follows them out to the so-called corral. Although, Jesse wouldn’t call it a “corral”. It’s just a barricaded motor pool full of AT-RTs. A part of Jesse is relieved that he doesn’t actually have to ride any animals, but his intuition tells him that whatever they have planned isn’t going to be as easy as he thinks.

Waxer stops in front of the barricade and addresses the squad. “As part of your cross-training in the ARF unit, you’re each going to learn how to ride an AT-RT.”

“Don’t you mean drive?” Jesse interrupts.

“No,” Waxer answers. “An AT-RT isn’t just some machine you can climb on and control. It takes concentration, skill, dexterity, and a mutual understanding between you and the walker. You don’t drive an AT-RT, you ride it.”

Jesse rolls his eyes. There’s a reason he’s an ARC and not an ARF. He doesn’t have the patience for these pansies, talking about a machine as if it’s a living animal. What utter nonsense.

“Shinies don’t even look at an AT-RT until they can show competency riding a living breathing animal,” Boil continues the explanation. “Since both of you are well-established and accomplished soldiers, we figured we could skip the live animal part and see what you’re made of.”

A smirk flashes across Sinker’s face and Jesse realizes he’s alone in his feelings about the training. He grinds his foot against the dusty earth again, feeling way out of his element. ARCs don’t “ride” AT-RTs, they infiltrate enemy lines, perform sabotage, steal secrets, and tip the scales of an assault. His last hope that he might get some in depth reconnaissance training has officially been dashed as Waxer opens the corral and ushers them inside to show them the AT-RTs.

“Do you name them?” Sinker asks as he inspects one of the units.

“Of course!” Waxer exclaims with a proud smile. He pats the side of the unit Sinker is looking at. “This one’s name is Sella. She’s a little glitchy, but she’s seen a lot of combat.”

If Jesse rolled his eyes any harder, they would roll right out of his head.

“Can I ride her?” Sinker asks, his eyes bright.

“Eh, not for your first ride,” Waxer says. “Like I said, she’s a little glitchy.” Waxer moves across the motor pool to another unit and pats the side. “Vala here will be a good starter for you.”

Sinker punches Jesse’s shoulder in excitement and heads over to where Waxer is standing. Jesse rubs his shoulder in mock discomfort, then crosses his arms. He’s still not convinced this is proper ARF training. He wants to be looking at charts and battle strategies, not galivanting around in AT-RTs. There’s nothing useful about this exercise that he can take back to his unit, unless they let him take the AT-RT as a souvenir, which he highly doubts they would.

“How about this one for you?” Boil asks while leaning against another unit. “Her name is Mina and she’s pretty gentle on the new guys.”

Jesse huffs and approaches the AT-RT. “Sure.”

The AT-RT training goes just as well as Waxer and Boil expect. Both Jesse and Sinker fall off their AT-RTs multiple times just on start-up, when the machine initially jerks to life. The breath is knocked out of Jesse’s lungs more times than he can count and he wonders if Kix can order him a replacement set if he ever makes it back to the 501st alive. The only buffer he has is his ARC armor and it’s not enough to prevent the litany of bruises from growing on every part of his body.

By rotations end, Jesse and Sinker manage to stay on their AT-RTs and even take a few steps forward with them. It’s been hard work, but they’re finally seeing the fruits of their labor and Jesse’s ego is just as bruised as his thighs. He gets it now. He understands what they mean by riding an AT-RT instead of driving it. It’s not like a starfighter or an ATTE that he’s driven in simulations. No, these things are like living animals and they need to be respected as such.

At the end of the training session, Jesse doesn’t stop for food at the mess hall. Instead, he hobbles to the medbay for some bacta, then makes his way to the barracks. He gingerly pulls his armor off, each flex of muscle a new sensation of pain. He winces and grunts until it all comes off and he stacks it neatly beside his assigned bunk. He pulls out a ration bar from his pack and settles onto the cot, mindlessly munching away at the bland bar while trying not to move.

Tomorrow, they’re taking the AT-RTs out on a fake reconnaissance mission. He’s not sure who decided that he and Sinker are ready to take the AT-RTs into the field, but he definitely doesn’t feel ready. He doesn’t even know if he’ll be able to move when he wakes up in the morning, let alone climb onto the back of an AT-RT and ride it out into the middle of who-knows-where. Just the thought of his legs doing that climbing motion again makes his thighs twitch in protest.

The next morning, Jesse wakes when the sun rises and its rays shine into the barracks. He was right, his entire body objects to him moving even one inch off of his cot, but he doesn’t have a choice. He feels like a cadet all over again. Like he just went through a rigorous course of simulations and he needs to go again. Those are days he wishes he didn’t have to remember. He’s much stronger now, and more resilient, but his aching thighs force his recollections.

Jesse swings by the medbay before meeting up with the others at the corral. He begs the medic on duty for anything he can give him to help soothe the pain. He’ll even take a muscle relaxer at this point, even if it makes him drowsy. The medic takes pity on him, tosses him a small bottle of painkillers, and threatens him not to mention it to anybody or he’d be returning to his battalion in a bodybag. That’s a risk Jesse is willing to take. Besides, Kix has threatened him with much worse.

Jesse downs a few of the pills, stuffs the bottle out of sight in one of his belt pouches, and heads to the corral. Everyone else is already there, and he hopes that he isn't too late that they make an issue about it. Luckily, no one mentions his tardiness, but Waxer does have a small grin on his face that makes Jesse suspicious. He wonders how much enjoyment Waxer and Boil get out of torturing their shinies with this training, because clearly they know why he’s late.

Waxer gives the squad a short briefing on their fake mission. He pulls out the data-pad with the map coordinates on it, their rendezvous point, the intel they’re supposed to be acquiring, and any enemy obstacles in their way. This is what Jesse has been after ever since the beginning of the cross-training. He studies everything Waxer shows them, eagerly consuming all of the information and stuffing it away in his brain to use later when he’s back with his own battalion.

After the mission briefing is over, they mount their AT-RTs, Jesse on Mina and Sinker on Vala. Waxer and Boil mount their personal AT-RTs, the ones they’ve been using since they became ARF troopers, and the squad heads out into the desert. Unlike Waxer and Boil, Jesse and Sinker do not have ARF trooper armor. Since the mission is fake, there is no need to outfit them. The squad looks rather odd up close, but from a distance no one can tell they’re mismatched.

The squad spends hours in the desert. The constant back and forth motion on the AT-RT has Jesse convinced he’s also going to need a spine replacement. He wonders how hard it will be to requisition and if there’s a special form he needs to fill out. He tries to pop a few more painkillers but as the AT-RT continues to lunge forward like a jack-rabbit, it makes the task very difficult. In all honesty, he’d rather be dropped out of a LAAT without a jetpack than do this full time.

Around mid-day, Waxer calls over the comms to let the squad know that they’ll be stopping for a break soon. He gives them the coordinates for the only known piece of civilization within ten klicks of their location, and they all head in that direction. Jesse can’t wait. His back, thighs, and butt all thank the Maker that he’s going to be able to rest soon, even if he has to fall off the AT-RT instead of hopping off. At this point, he’s not even sure his arms are still attached to his body.

As they approach their rest-stop, Waxer gives the order for the squad to halt. Waxer, Boil, and Sinker all stop relatively close together, but Jesse keeps going.

“Jesse, halt,” Waxer calls through the comms.

“It won’t stop,” Jesse calls back while pressing every button he can think of to try and stop.

“What do you mean it won’t stop?” Waxer asks as he watches Jesse move further away.

“I mean, it won’t stop!” Jesse yells.

“Hit the emergency brake,” Boil orders into the comms.

“I did,” Jesse answers. He refuses to panic, but the building is getting closer and his AT-RT is not obeying his commands. “I think there’s an electrical malfunction.”

“Great,” Waxer sighs. “Just steer her out of harm's way and we can figure it out.”

“About that…” Jesse pauses. His heart rate increases as the building is looking a lot bigger than it did a few seconds ago. “The steering isn’t responding either.”

“Bail!” Waxer calls as he starts his unit up and rushes over. “Bail, Jesse, bail!”

It’s too late. Jesse braces as his AT-RT crashes into the side of the building.

“Order up for table twelve!” the cook calls from the kitchen as he rings the bell at the end of the order window.

“Coming!” you answer, then rush over to grab the order.

“What’s the hold up?” the cook asks. “Are you daydreaming again?”

“Only everyday I’m stuck working here,” you sing back with a sweet smile.

The cook huffs. “Just make sure the customers are fed. You don’t get paid to daydream.”

“Yes, sir!” you answer with a mock salute as you balance the tray of food on one hand.

You turn around and roll your eyes before walking the food over to table twelve. You’ve been stuck working at this diner for four cycles now with no end in sight. It’s not the worst job you could have, but with the small amount you’re being paid with no raises in the near future, you’ll never be able to afford to go find a new one. It’s an endless cycle of work, work, work, and never any time for yourself or what you want to do. It’s agonizing, but it’s all you have.

The only reason you even have this job is to pay off your parent’s debt. They left you on this barren rock to go on their “galactic tour” and never returned. From what you know, they made a deal with the owner of the diner to ensure you had a place to stay, and in return, when you were old enough, you would work for him to pay off the debt. It’s definitely not the life you would’ve chosen, but it’s the life you have been given, and you should be grateful for even that much.

Your only solace is your best friend Violet. She also works at the diner and hates it as much as you do. The two of you became fast friends when you first started working at the diner and now you spend all of your free time together. Violet also doesn’t have any parents planet-side, so there’s an even deeper connection between the two of you and an unspoken understanding about life. At least you have each other, is what you tell yourself when things get unbearable.

“Tooka got your tongue?” Violet asks as she peers over your shoulder.

“Ah!” you startle. “Where’d you come from?”

“Table eight,” Violet answers. “You had that look in your eye again.”

“What look?” you ask.

“The dreamy and distant one,” Violet answers with a flip of her hair.

You groan. “That obvious, huh?”

“If you were any more obvious, you’d have a neon sign stuck to your forehead,” Violet laughs.

You sigh. “Don’t you want more?”

“More what?” Violet asks.

“I don’t know,” you answer. “More anything.”

Violet thinks for a moment. “Yeah, more sleep and more credits.”

You pout. “Besides that.”

“What else is there?” Violet asks as she picks up another tray of food.

“Oh, you know…” you trail your voice quietly while bussing the table next to hers. “Like love and stuff.”

Violet snorts. “What? Love? Out here? In this dust bowl? You’re nuts.”

“I am not!” you retort. “It could happen.”

“Yeah, sure,” Violet rolls her eyes, “because gorgeous and attractive people just tumble into our diner like it’s a speed-dating site.”

“I–”

CRASH

The violent shockwave shakes the diner to its core and knocks both you and Violet off of your feet and flat onto the ground. You instinctively cover your head as pieces of debris and dust fall from the ceiling. The patrons in the diner start screaming and run past you to the diner exit as you lay on the floor, stunned by what just happened. You slowly open your eyes and look over at Violet, making sure she’s okay. She looks dazed, but nods and you both help each other up.

“Kriffing banthas!” you exclaim. “What was that?”

“I don’t know,” Violet says with a shaky voice, still in shock.

You turn around and see a gaping hole in the side of the diner and your eyes grow wide. A mess of twisted dura-steel, snapped electrical wires, and broken water pipes are poking out in every direction. You’re not sure what to make of it. You tilt your head from side to side trying to figure out what happened until you see a clone trooper’s body laying under some debris. You rush over, climbing through the rubble to get to the trapped man. He’s unconscious, but breathing.

“Violet, help me!” you call back. “He’s trapped!”

Violet climbs up alongside of you and you each grab an arm, tugging with all of your might, but it’s no use, he’s too heavy. You pant at the exertion and look around for anything that you could use for leverage. But before you can make your next move, three more clone troopers burst through the front door of the diner. They look around frantically before meeting your gaze as you wave your hands to try and get their attention. They must be with the clone that’s trapped.

“Over here!” you call out to them. “He’s over here!”

The three clones rush over and replace you and Violet. The two troopers in camouflage lift the debris and the third clone in gray armor pulls the trapped clone out from underneath it. They carry him away from the debris pile and lay him on top of one of the diner tables. The clone in gray armor pulls out a bag with a medic symbol on it and rummages through it. Finding what he’s looking for, he scans over the unconscious clone with the device, then sighs in relief.

“No internal injuries,” the gray clone says. “Looks like he just got knocked out. He’s lucky.”

One of the clones in camouflage shakes his head. “Of all the things to go wrong.”

“At least he’s not dead,” the other clone in camouflage says. “Try explaining that to Commander Cody and Captain Rex.”

The first clone in camouflage visually bristles.

“Um, excuse me,” you interrupt with a slight raise of your hand.

The first clone in camouflage takes his helmet off. “Apologies, I’m Waxer, with the 212th.” He points to the clone next to him. “This is Boil, also with the 212th, and that’s Sinker, with the 104th.” He looks down at the clone on the table. “And that one is Jesse, from the 501st.”

“Pleasure…” you say as you try to take it all in. There’s so many numbers and names, you’re not sure how you’ll keep them all straight.

“Wait, hold on,” Violet interjects, dumbfounded. “Y’all just crashed into our diner and you're exchanging pleasantries like you met at the local market?”

“Correction,” Boil says. “Jesse crashed into your diner.”

Violet’s jaw drops and she turns to you. “Are these guys for real?”

“I assure you ma’am,” Sinker says. “We are, in fact, real clones.”

You start to snicker and Violet throws her hands up in defeat. “You know what, I’ve had enough for one day.” She takes her dusty and torn apron off and tosses it on the ground with the rest of the debris. “I do not get paid enough to deal with clowns!”

“Don’t you mean, clones?” Boil asks.

“I meant what I said!” Violet yells back as she navigates around the debris to the exit.

You try to stifle a laugh, but fail. “Don’t worry about her. She’s just stressed. It’s not every day we get clones crashing into our diner.”

Waxer rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah, sorry about that. One of the AT-RTs had a malfunction and Jesse couldn’t get it to stop.”

“I see,” you look down at the clone on the table and knit your brows with worry. You feel bad for him. It must have been scary, being stuck on an uncontrollable collision course and knowing you can’t do anything to stop it from happening. Well, at least for you it would have been scary. You’re not even sure if clones feel fear. It’s not something you’ve ever thought about, until now.

“We’ll fix the wall for you,” Waxer says. “Might take us a couple rotations, but we’ll get it done.”

“The owner will definitely appreciate it,” you smile. You’re not quite sure where the cook went off to, but he must have bailed when the wall was smashed. That coward. He talks a lot about your head being stuck in the clouds, but when things go wrong, you’re the only one keeping a level head.

“Can you stay with him?” Waxer asks. “We need to comm our superiors.”

“Yeah, sure,” you agree, then pull out one of the table chairs to take a seat. You didn’t realize how much your legs were shaking until you were sitting down and relieving them of their duty, but now that the adrenaline is wearing off, you’re starting to feel exhausted.

You watch Jesse like Waxer asked you too, but to be honest, you’re not sure what you’re supposed to be watching. You look him over from head to toe and take in all of his features. He’s wearing different armor than the other three clones, but it’s not the standard issue clone armor that you see in the news either. You’re not sure what it is. He’s got two thick leather skirt-looking things around his thighs, two holsters, and a big flappy thing across his shoulders.

You shrug and continue your examination. He also has some type of pouch on his chest that looks like it could either hold ammo or snacks. You figure both are important. There’s also an extra chest plate on top of the standard one. Must be for extra protection. You then look at the blue markings that adorn his arms and legs and wonder if they have any meaning. The last thing you look at is his face. There’s a huge GAR tattoo covering one side. Curious, but not bizarre.

You lean over his body to get a better view, when you hear him stir. You quickly remove yourself and wave your hand over his face to try and get him to wake up.

“Hey,” you call. “Wake up, Jesse.”

Jesse groans as he comes to. “Am I dead?”

You chuckle. “No, just got a little knocked around.”

Jesse hisses as he tries to sit up and raises a hand to hold the side of his head. “Ow, my head.”

“It’s gonna hurt a bit,” you say. “That was a nasty crash.”

Jesse closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “What crash?”

“You don’t remember?” you ask in concern.

Jesse opens his eyes, and as they finally focus, he sees the mess of twisted dura-steel and a crushed AT-RT within it. His body jolts at the memory. “The building!”

“Whoa!” you put your hands on Jesse’s shoulders to try and get him to calm down. “Easy, Jesse, easy.”

Jesse breathes heavily at the new surge of adrenaline, but settles down. He shoots you a quizzical look. “Who are you and how do you know my name?”

“Oh, right,” you laugh nervously then introduce yourself. “I’m a waitress here and your friends are just outside. They pulled you out of the rubble and told me to watch you.”

Jesse leans his head back against the table and groans. “Rex is going to kill me.”

“Who’s Rex?” you ask to try to keep him talking. Concussions are very serious, and without knowing if he has one, you don’t want him falling unconscious again.

“My captain,” Jesse answers. He drapes an arm over his face. “He’s the one that sent me to this desolate dust bowl.”

You chuckle at his disdain for the planet.

“Oh, sorry,” Jesse apologizes. “I guess this is your home, huh? I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“No worries,” you wave off the remark and smile. “I think it’s a dust bowl, too.”

Jesse chuckles.

“I’m sorry about your AT… thing,” you offer, trying to remember the exact acronym.

Jesse laughs. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t mine.”

You snort and then laugh along with him. “You’re funny.”

“And you’re pretty,” Jesse blurts out.

You stop laughing as you process what he said. “You think I’m pretty?”

Jesse’s stomach flips when he realizes his thoughts didn’t stay in his head. “Kriff, did I say that out loud?”

“Uh, yeah,” you answer nervously, your face feeling warm.

“Maker, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” Jesse apologizes, the embarrassment written all over his face.

“So, you don’t think I’m pretty?” you ask.

“Uh, no, I mean yes, well, you see,” Jesse stammers, then gives up trying to explain himself. He sighs. “I think my brain got scrambled in the crash.”

You chuckle and pat his arm. “It’s okay. I forgive you.”

After your short but awkward conversation with Jesse, the three clones reassemble in the diner to debrief the now awake Jesse. Waxer commed Cody, Boil commed Rex, and Sinker commed Wolffe, although from the sweat on Sinker’s face, you can tell who has the most commanding officer of them all. The consensus is that the GAR will pay for the damages and the four clones will repair the diner wall. None of them seem too thrilled about it, and you don’t blame them.

By the time the excitement has calmed down, and the materials to fix the diner are located, it’s nightfall and you are exhausted. You’re practically dead on your feet, body swaying with your broom while trying to clean up some of the debris on the other end of the diner. You’re the only staff member left to help clean up, so you chose to stay. Of course won’t be paid for any of this, but the faster the diner is back in business, the faster you can start getting paid again.

You dump another dust pan of rubble into the trash receptacle, then plop down onto one of the stools lining the diner counter. You yawn wide and lean your elbow on the counter, propping your face up as you close your eyelids for just a moment to rest. The moment must have lasted longer than you expected, because when you open your eyes again, you wake up in one of the booths with a blanket on top of you and another one folded under your head for use as a pillow.

It’s still dark out, the moonlight beaming in through the large transparisteel panes that line the front of the diner, and you sit up to get your bearings. There’s three clones nestled on the floor, all tangled up together in a mess of armor and limbs. You’re not sure how sleeping like that is comfortable, but more power to them. You realize Jesse is missing, and you pop your head up over the booth to look for him, hoping that he hasn’t wandered off somewhere and gotten lost.

You tiptoe around the sleeping clones, blanket hung around your shoulders to keep the desert chill out, and walk around looking for Jesse. He’s not inside the diner, so you walk outside. You really hope he didn’t leave to relieve himself and you’re about to walk in on something you’re not prepared to see, and luckily you don’t. You circle the entire building and you still can’t find him. Finally, you hear your name being called and you look up to see two legs dangling from the roof.

You shake your head and climb up the side ladder to join Jesse on the roof.

“You should be asleep,” he says, not moving his gaze from the horizon.

“So, should you,” you retort back. “You’re injured.”

“I’m fine,” he dismisses. “Barely even a scratch on me.”

You sit next to him and let your feet hang off the edge. “I was talking about your brain.”

Jesse chuckles. “That’s fine, too.”

“No more accidentally calling me pretty?” you jest.

“Not making any promises on that one,” he smirks.

You smile and fidget with the edges of the blanket. “Did you move me to the booth?”

“Hope you don’t mind,” he answers. “That counter was doing nothing for your back. Probably should’ve asked first.”

“Oh, no,” you dismiss with a wave of your hand. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

Jesse smiles. “You’re welcome, mesh’la.”

You don’t remember falling asleep on the rooftop, but when you awaken feeling like a rolled up burrito with Jesse’s arm draped across your side, the memories start to come back. You must have talked for a while before dozing off, because you feel like you barely got any sleep at all. The blanket wrapped around you is tight and you wiggle to try to get yourself free from it, but as you do, you start to roll away. You panic slightly before feeling Jesse’s firm hand stopping you.

“Going somewhere?” he asks, his voice rough with sleep.

“Thought I’d roll myself to work today,” you answer.

Jesse raises an eyebrow. “How’s that working out for you?”

You wiggle against the restraining blanket. “Ten out of ten would not recommend.”

Jesse snorts and sits up. “I didn’t want you to get cold or fall off the roof.”

“Appreciate it,” you strain out as you wriggle some more. “Please help me.”

Jesse unravels your blanket cocoon and helps you to your feet. You straighten your dirty uniform out and climb down the ladder to get the day started with Jesse trailing behind you. Violet is already inside the diner, chatting with the other three clones. She gives you a knowing look when she sees you walk in with Jesse, but doesn’t say anything. You’re just happy she’s here to help. When she stormed off yesterday, you weren’t sure if she was going to come back.

As the clones start discussing their plan of attack, the two of you decide the best way to start the day is to eat a hearty breakfast. There’s a lot of work to be done and everyone is going to need as much energy as they can get. The cook never came back, but that’s of no matter, you know how to cook. In no time, a full breakfast and hot caf is served. You dust off some of the debris before placing the plates and mugs down on the table and everyone digs in.

Once breakfast is over, the four clones get to work hauling away the large debris pieces from the wall and the crushed AT-RT. You offer the use of the dumpster in the back of the building, but they insist that the GAR will come pick it up and you should use the dumpster for smaller debris. You don’t argue with them and set out with Violet to clean whatever you can of the mess inside the diner, making sure to wear gloves so you don’t cut your hands on any sharp pieces.

As the day continues, the desert heat begins to seep into the diner. The crash must have broken the refrigerant lines, but with the gaping hole in the side of the diner, the climate control wouldn’t be of much use anyway. You and Violet switch gears and make a refreshing batch of Tatooine Sunset to ensure everyone stays hydrated. You also put damp towels in the conservator to help cool everyone off during breaks. It’s barely midday and you know it’s only going to get hotter.

Soon enough, the clones start shedding their armor, at least the top halves of their armor. You’ve never seen a clone without their armor, but honestly, you haven’t seen that many clones to begin with. It’s when they start taking the top black portion of their bodysuits off that you really take notice. They’re jacked. You stand back in one of the corners, mindlessly moving your broom as you watch them work. Not a single piece of debris makes it into the dustpan.

Violet elbows you in the side.

“Ow!” you exclaim. “What was that for?”

“You’re staring,” Violet answers.

“Am not,” you argue.

Violet crosses her arms. “Four hot, shirtless men are flexing their muscles and sweating in our diner, and you’re not staring?”

You purse your lips trying not to give her any satisfaction.

“Well, I’m going to stare,” Violet says. “I mean, look at those abs. But the difference is that I can stare and sweep.”

You roll your eyes and push some garbage into the dustpan.

“You wanted more,” Violet says as she nonchalantly scoots away with her broom. “Well, more is standing over there with a giant tattoo on his head.”

You open your mouth to protest, but she’s too far away. You hate it when she does that. Violet always seems to know what you’re thinking before you’ve even thought it yourself. According to her it’s her gift to the world, but really, it’s just a nuisance. She is right, though, because Jesse does make your heart flutter. You’ve just met him, but it's like you’ve known him your entire life. Talking to him feels as natural as breathing, and for the first time, you truly feel fortunate for your job at the diner.

You lean on your broom and start staring again, watching Jesse walk over to the rubble, pick up a large piece, then carry it out of the diner and drop it onto the pile. Each movement he makes causes the muscles in his arms and torso to ripple with dramatic effect. The sweat that drips down his body only serves to accentuate how toned he is. Before you even realize it, Jesse’s looking at you and you nearly fall off your broom in embarrassment, but he smiles at you.

You continue cleaning up the diner while stealing glances at Jesse, but he also glances back. You want so badly just to sit down and talk with him more. Your conversation on the rooftop last night was a lot of fun and you both shared different things about your lives. You told him about your parents and how you got stuck working at the diner, and he told you about his battalion and how he got stuck going on this training mission. Both equally unfortunate, but now, it feels okay.

The late afternoon break comes around, so you and Violet make another batch of Tatooine Sunset, as well as some sandwiches. The clones inhale the sandwiches so fast that you’re embarrassed you didn’t make more. You offer to, but they turn you down, being grateful just for the opportunity to eat real food instead of rations. You smile and turn back towards the kitchen. Jesse follows you through the double-doors and leans his hot back against the cool conservator.

“Like what you see?” Jesse asks with a smirk.

You turn around to look at him. “The wall’s coming along nice.”

Jesse scrunches his nose. “You weren’t staring at the wall.”

“How do you know?” you jest. “Maybe I like walls.”

Jesse tilts his head to the side and folds his arms over his bare chest. “Are you sure you don’t like something else?”

You groan. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

Jesse gives you a devilish grin.

“Fine,” you sigh. “I like what I see.”

“I knew it,” Jesse says, a little too excited.

“Maker above, would you two please get a room!” Violet exclaims from the order window. “I’m so sick of you staring at each other. The closet is empty if you’re looking for a place to smash.”

“Violet!” you yell as your face flushes with embarrassment.

Jesse snorts. “That closet can barely fit a broom.”

“Then kiss or something,” Violet says. “Anything to get you two back to work.”

Jesse pushes off the conservator and heads towards the double doors. “You heard the task-master.”

“Wait,” you call. “Aren't you going to kiss me?”

Jesse stops and turns his head. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

You fidget with your hem. “Kinda.”

“Kinda isn’t a yes or a no,” Jesse says.

“Yes,” you correct. “I want you to kiss me.”

Jesse takes his hand off the double doors and walks over to you. Your eyes dart around as your nerves start to get the better of you. You can’t believe you just asked him to kiss you. You’ve never kissed anyone before. What if you’re bad at it? What if he doesn’t like it? What if you accidentally bite him? Maker, your stomach is in knots. Your breathing becomes heavier as he gets closer, but your nervous energy comes to a halt when he cups the side of your face.

Jesse smooths his thumb over your cheek and gives you a reassuring smile. He dips his head and tilts it to the side before pressing his lips against yours. His lips are warm and their touch ever so gentle as they melt into yours. You place your hands on his chest and all of your worries and concerns slip away as all you can think about is Jesse. You don’t want this moment to end, but eventually he pulls back, breaking the kiss, leaving you breathless and wanting for more.

Without a single word, Jesse turns on his heels and leaves the kitchen to go back to work fixing the wall. You stand there, alone in the kitchen, completely dazed by what just happened. You’re not sure if you’re dreaming or not, but you’re too afraid to pinch yourself to find out. You press your fingers to your lips, thinking about the kiss, and your body warms. You’re not sure how you can work now, but you do know that you’ll be spending every spare moment you have with Jesse.

Finally the repairs are complete and tonight is your last night with Jesse. Your stomach aches at the thought of him leaving. Only a couple of rotations ago, he crashed into your life and stole your heart. You didn’t mean to fall for him, but his soulful brown eyes and bright smile captivated you. Besides, the feelings are mutual. You don’t want him to leave, but you know he can’t stay. He’s a soldier, with things to do and places to go, and you’re just a waitress at a diner in the middle of nowhere.

You’re spending your last night together sitting up on the rooftop of the diner, legs dangling over the edge, as you gaze up at the moon and soak in each other’s presence. It’s quiet, like it usually is in the desert, and not a soul would dare to disturb this moment, not even Violet. You want your last night with Jesse to be a memorable one, and what better way to end it then with the way you started it; on the roof. It may be silly to some, but it makes the pain a little easier.

“You’re leaving tomorrow,” you say sadly.

“Yeah,” Jesse answers, equally feeling sad about his departure.

“I don’t want you to go,” you admit as your voice quivers.

Jesse wraps an arm around you and pulls you against his side, leaning his head atop yours. “I don’t want to go either.”

“Stay?” you ask.

“You know I can’t,” Jesse sighs.

“Please,” you plead while nuzzling into his neck. “Don’t go.”

Jesse’s heart breaks. He picks his head up and cups the side of your face, leaning in and closing his eyes to capture your soft lips with his own. You press your body against his, deepening the kiss until Jesse is laying flat against the roof and you’re straddling over his stomach. Your lips are locked as Jesse glides his rough hands over your smooth back, pulling your shirt in different directions as he maps out the plains of your body.

Jesse breaks the kiss for a moment. “Come back to Coruscant with me,” he whispers while ghosting his lips over yours before nipping at your bottom lip and pulling them back against his.

Now it’s your turn to break the kiss. “Jesse–”

“We could get an apartment,” he cuts you off before you can protest, then plants a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth. “I’ll take care of you.” Another kiss finds its mark. “My vode will adore you.” A gentle suck at your bottom lip. “We’ll make lots of babies.” He smirks and you can’t stop the giggle from forming.

You sit up and release a soft sigh. “Sounds nice.”

Jesse reaches up and cups your chin. “But?”

You melt into his caress for a moment before removing his hand from your face. “But I can’t.”

Jesse bends his knees so you can lean back against them, then laces his fingers under his head. “Why not?”

You absently draw small circles around his chest with your fingers, the longing evident in your actions but missing from your words. “My home is here.”

“I could be your home,” Jesse reassures with a small smile.

You briefly smile back and tap at his chest. “What if something happens to you? I’ll be alone.”

Jesse knits his brows and frowns, fully understanding your hesitation. He’s a soldier, created to be expendable. His brothers die every day and no one bats an eyelash. There’s no guarantees that he’ll come back from his next campaign alive, but still, he wants this. He wants you.

Jesse untangles his fingers from behind his head and takes both of your hands in his own, kissing them tenderly. “I can’t promise tomorrow,” he admits. “I can only promise now.”

A single tear rolls down your cheek. “Then can I have you, at least right now?”

Jesse wipes your tear with his thumb, then flips you onto your back so he’s hovering over you. He leans down and presses his lips to yours once again, yearning to taste as much of you as possible. If this is his only moment with you, then he wants to remember everything. Every sweet taste, every curve, every bump, and every heavenly sound you’ll make for him as he ravages your body with only the moon above as a witness.

“Jesse,” you say his name breathlessly as your desire builds. “I want–”

Jesse places a finger against your lips to hush you. “I know, mesh’la,” he soothes while rubbing his finger across your plush lips before gently pushing it into your mouth, causing you to gasp. “We’ve got all night.”

The light of the rising sun pierces through your eyelids, rousing you from your slumber. The morning comes quicker than you expect and you groan as you sit yourself up on the hard dura-steel roof. You rub the sleep from your eyes and look over to your right, expecting Jesse to still be sleeping, but he’s gone. Your heart sinks and you whip your head around to make sure he didn’t get up and stretch his legs, but you don’t see him. He must have left before you awoke.

Holding tears back, you stand up and pat down your wrinkled and disheveled clothes, trying to regain some semblance of normalcy. But who are you kidding? How could you ever be normal again after a night like that? A night of romance, passion, and longing that made you feel everything and nothing all at the same time. You know this is for the best. He’ll go back to Coruscant, back to the war, and you’ll be here, working your minimum wage job.

You break at the thought. Dropping to your knees you begin to sob, grieving over what you let go of. You don’t want Jesse to leave. You don’t want him to be a one night stand. You want a life with him. Even if it means him being away for weeks at a time or that he may leave and never come back. That slim chance is lightyears better than never seeing him again, than never feeling his burning touch on your skin or hearing his deep voice whisper sweetly in your ear.

You have to go after him. You can’t let him leave, not without you. Maybe it’s selfish, but you don’t care. Burdened with the thought of never seeing him again, you wipe your face, pick yourself up, and head to the ledge. You grab the ladder and stare off into the distance, wondering if you’ll catch a glimpse of him, but you don’t. You may be too late. Regardless, you slip down the ladder, ignoring the rungs and land with a thud onto the dusty ground.

You’re breathing heavily, your hair is a mess, and your clothes are horribly wrinkled, but you don’t care. You push open the front door violently. “I quit!”

Violet looks up at you from where she’s mopping the floor and pauses to lean on her mop with a knowing smile. Love wins, she guesses, and she’s right.

You walk over to Violet and throw your arms around her. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

“I know,” Violet says as she hugs you tightly.

“I’ll miss you,” you whisper, the tears barely held back.

“I’ll miss you too,” Violet answers with a tremble in her voice. She breaks your embrace and composes herself. “Now go, or you won’t catch him.”

You reluctantly let go of your best friend, and with tears in your eyes, you back away and leave.

“You got everything?” Waxer asks as he carries another crate into the transport that’s taking Jesse back to Coruscant.

“Hm?” Jesse snaps out of his daze. “Oh, yeah,” Jesse answers, and then pauses. “I… I left something in the desert.”

“I hope it wasn’t valuable,” Waxer laughs.

Jesse stares out towards the dusty horizon and sighs. “Priceless, actually.”

Waxer claps a comforting hand on Jesse’s shoulder. “Sorry to hear that.”

Jesse gives Waxer a half smile, but it quickly fades back into a frown. His transport leaves within the hour and he wonders if he made a mistake by not saying goodbye. He thought if he left without a word, it would be easier for both of you, but he was wrong. His chest feels tight and his heart aches. What he wouldn’t give to hear your voice one more time. He didn’t think it was possible to leave this dusty planet more upset than when he first landed, and yet here he is.

Jesse takes one last look at the place he initially despised, then turns to board the transport. It’s not just you that he left in the desert. He left his heart there too, on the rooftop of that old diner. He sits on one of the crates in the back of the transport and leans his head against the cold frame. He didn’t want this assignment. He didn’t want to come here. It could have been any other clone, but no, his number was drawn. The universe has a cruel sense of humor.

Before the ramp closes, Jesse hears someone calling for the transport to halt. Leaving his bucket on the crate, he makes his way back down the ramp to ask what’s delaying the departure, thinking it might be something mechanical. However, as he barely steps off the ramp and onto the dusty earth, he sees a speeder in the distance. He grabs a pair of scopes from a nearby clone trooper and dials in on the speeder. His breath catches in his throat. It’s you.

Jesse gives the scopes back to the clone trooper he took them from and starts walking away from the transport, his heart beating rapidly out of his chest, wondering if it’s really true or if the desert heat is playing tricks on him. Did you just want to say goodbye or do you want to go with him? He doesn’t dare let himself think the latter. You made it clear to him last night that you won’t go with him, but he wants to hope so badly. He wants to believe that it’s the only reason.

The speeder comes to a screeching halt a couple yards away from Jesse and he watches with bated breath as you jump out of it and sprint towards him.

“Jesse!” you yell as tears fall from your face.

Jesse smiles and opens his arms. You jump into them without a second thought and bury your face into his neck. He wraps his arms around you and lifts you off of the ground and onto his hips, one arm cradling your butt and the other securing around your back.

“I didn’t think I was going to make it in time,” you cry.

“You made it, mesh’la,” Jesse soothes as he kisses your cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye.”

You pick your head up and look at him through blurry vision, a small smile growing on your lips. “Not goodbye. I’m going with you.”

Jesse’s eyes dart around your face, looking for any semblance that you’re joking or maybe this is a dream, but he can’t find anything. “You’re coming with me? To Coruscant?”

You nod your head, afraid that your voice will crack if you try to use it again.

Jesse squeezes you tighter, terrified that at any moment you’ll be ripped away from him. He can’t believe that you changed your mind, that you’re going back with him. His thoughts race a mile a minute as he thinks about your future together. He has a stake in this war now, something worth fighting for that wasn’t thrust upon him by someone else or programmed into him as duty and loyalty. No, now he has you, and he will fight this war to make sure you stay safe in his arms.

“Let’s go home,” Jesse says as he carries you into the transport.

You smile and rest your head on his shoulder. “I’d like that.”

Masterlist

AO3

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[s0ftl3]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒓𝒂𝒇𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑭𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔

A/N: wooooo this was the longest one I’ve done yet and I’m really happy with how it turned out. This is for the anon who requested  Schlatt x streamer! Reader fluff <333

“The craft and the furious? Really?” Schlatt looks at you in disbelief, “That’s the stupid fucking name for your stream?” He returns his gaze to the monitor reading the chat. Most of the audience is shaming him for questioning your comedic genius, and the minority agrees with him. They're probably coming over from his channel anyways. 

“Hey, don’t be a hater Schlatt,” you bump him away from your desk with your hip. He glares at you off-screen, and you giggle, sticking your tongue out at him. “Hey, guys it’s me againnnn, if you couldn't tell by the name of the stream me and Schlatt are making crafts today.” you hold up a big stack of craft supplies. They include a large stack of colorful construction paper, scissors, glue, and glitter. Schlatt was less than excited about the idea of the glitter, but when you asked so nicely; he couldn’t tell you no. 

You hold up your phone to the monitor after; setting the craft supplies down. Your screen displays pretty pictures of construction paper butterflies; some of them are sparkly and some plain. “Since Schlatt’s not a master crafter like me,” another glare from Schlatt comes your way, “we’re gonna make these little butterflies.” The craft itself was fitting for your channel considering your logo was a butterfly.

You don’t see it, but your chat surely does. They see the way, Schlatt looks at you with such a soft expression, though you don’t see their comments about it because the chat’s going by too fast. He’s glad because he does not need his best friend to know he likes her. To be fair, he’s pretty sure his feelings are past just liking you. By the time he’s zoned back in on what’s going on, your already folding pieces of paper into the shape of a butterfly.

“Hey, wait, slow the fuck down; what are you doing?” He rushes to your side, trying to figure out what folds you made in the paper. You make no effort to show him how you got to this point in the craft and make him figure it out himself.

Eventually, he figures it out, with no help from you of course. While he finishes folding his butterfly, you're adding blue glitter to one of yours. He glances over, admiring the look of focus on your face. He thinks you look the cutest like this, your tongue poking out in concentration, and your brows furrowed. He wishes he had the courage to lean over and kiss you right now. Unfortunately, he doesn’t think he can handle the embarrassment of you potentially rejecting him on stream. 

Throughout the rest of the stream, the chat continues to comment about Schlatt’s “staring problem” as they called it. Thankfully, at least it appeared this way to Schlatt, you continued to notice. Soon enough though the stream had to come to an end. You and Schlatt gave the chat your final goodbyes for the night.  Immediately after ending the stream, you like to watch what your audience clipped from the stream. (something Schlatt was blissfully unaware of when he left to go to the bathroom) 

You clicked on the first clip titled, “Schlatt smiling like a simp,”  which featured him smiling, so genuinely at you while you folded your third butterfly. You’re shocked you didn’t notice, but by the look on your face, you were too immersed in your folding duties. Clicked on another clip labeled “Schlatt’s staring problem,” it is yet another video of Schlatt unfocused on his own craft, and more focused on the pout of your lips. Maybe it was a silly coincidence, you think, so you click on one more to be sure. This one; is a very short clip of Schlatt laughing at a joke your chat deemed incredibly dumb. It sounded so genuine; not like he felt bad for not laughing when the pun didn’t come out as funny as you meant it. Before, whatever the feelings running through you can really hit; Schlatt re-enters your recording room. The clip is replaying and he can feel the heat rushing to his cheeks. 

“Uhh, What’re you watching?” he asks. You turn to face him; your cheeks are equally as pink. You hide the monitor behind your back. 

“Just, um, some of the clips from the stream.” you refuse to meet eyes with him, worried if you do, he’ll be able to tell how much you enjoyed watching him give his attention to you. It doesn’t really matter though; because he’s caught on, and, now, rather than feeling embarrassed; he feels a little more confident. 

“Yeah?” he takes a few steps closer, his confidence growing with each step, “let me guess they’re clips of your chat telling you how I’ve been staring at you this whole time?” he closes in on you at your desk, leaning over you. The sudden proximity was shocking but not unwelcome. 

“They said you were a simp, Jay,” his smirk turns into the pretty genuine smile you treasure so much as he chuckles at that. He leans down, his face level with yours; his gaze flits back and forth between your lips and eyes.

“Yeah well, they might be right,” he leans even closer looking to your eyes once more for confirmation that this was okay. When he gets the tiniest nod from you he finally connects your lips. “Just for you though, angel.”

#jschlatt x reader #jschlatt fluff #jschlatt x y/n #chuckle sammy #chuckle sandwich

[lemon-natalia]

Gideon the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 30

Palamedes’ devotion to Camilla is remarkable, get yourself a man who would bury a body for you no questions asked

‘because i killed her parents’ ohhh damnnn. it was clear they committed suicide, but i had only thought that Gideon might have found their bodies or something, not actually been involved in what led up to their deaths

i cannot believe it is canon that young Gideon and Harrow devised Home Alone style booby traps for each other

oh shit Harrow actually unlocked the locked tomb? and telling her parents that was enough to make them commit suicide, and she was in the room when they did wtf. it’s obviously not actually Gideon’s fault, but that answers why exactly Harrow hated her so much at the start.

even with that reveal, the passage really skips around what exactly was in the locked tomb that’s so terrible…

also no wonder Gideon feels so damn guilty about the Fourth and Fifth deaths. its not just that she feels she could have saved them, but its building on all this trauma from when she was a kid of feeling responsible for Harrow’s parents deaths that she’s never been able to deal with

if Palamedes gets out of this book alive he should become a counsellor, he’s remarkably good at it. does this universe have therapy? Palamedes should invent therapy. please everyone desperately needs it

return of the mysterious piece of paper! Gideon isn’t quite as nonchalant about it as i thought she was. maybe Palamedes with all his knowledge about theorems will be able to make some sense of it 

ngl i kinda wish we’d seen the process of Camilla putting Harrow in handcuffs, that sounds difficult. the mental image of Harrow just … pushing Pro’s head off is also pure comedy

rip that one priest with ‘salt and pepper hair’, i doubt you ever shall be named

ok i knew something shady was up with Dulcinea i didn’t think it was that her cavalier was a freaking zombie what. that might also explain her previous interest in Gideon, knowing that both of them were faking the whole cavalier thing to be there 

there were like five different points throughout the chapter where i kept having a heart attack and being totally certain Dulcinea was dead only for her to start breathing again 

‘some people will do anything to get … a-head’ y’know times are serious when Gideon Nav cannot appreciate a bad pun. also Ianthe is actually quite morbidly funny i won’t lie

#lemon natalia reads the locked tomb #gideon the ninth #tlt #the locked tomb #the locked tomb liveblog

[thisnameisnotspokenfor]

IN CELEBRATION OF THE ECLIPSE I AM RELEASING A (SUPER ROUGH) PART OF CHAPTER 26!!!

Please enjoy the Cepheus Lore ft Asha laughing ((I just realized that she doesn't really smile or laugh a lot in this story??? Maybe she does but it feels like it's superficial to me??? IDK))

He nodded, but his gaze nearly looked distant, as if his mind were elsewhere. “So you’ve always lived with your family,” the star said softly. Strangely, it almost sounded like more of an observation or a confirmation than a statement. “You stayed with your father here, and you live with your mother and grandfather at home.”

She nodded, picking up a few more books and scrolls that had been scattered across her desk.. “Well yeah…that’s how most humans live. We’re social creatures. Unless you’re extremely introverted, but even then, we need social interactions” The star hummed, as she risked a glance in his direction, asking, “are stars not social creatures?”

He shifted uncomfortably, his eyes nearly lost in thought for a moment or so until he slowly shook his head. His voice was low and quiet, he nearly sounded tired.“No. Not quite…when stars are born…we’re sent to a nebulas where our caretakers look after us. I suppose it’s what you’d equate to a nursery, at least that’s what she told me.” 

“The wishing star?”

He nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Yeah. Her. But during our stay there we are usually visited until we undergo our naming ceremony. After that whether or not we are visited is -,” Hold on. Cepheus-Sirius had a family?! Cepheus had parents?!? What did they look like?! He continued peacefully oblivious to the shock she was experiencing at his words. “-ultimately up to our parents or family. So it’s not uncommon for some nebulas to be more popular than others.”

More Popular? So were there nebulas out there with tiny stars neglected and lonely? Waiting and hoping for the day that their parents would acknowledge their existence? Something about that image didn’t sit right with her. Every child deserved to have a parent, even if said child wasn’t human…

“Asha?” he was staring at her.

“Huh” she shook her head, snapping herself out of her daze. “What? What is it?”

Much to her chagrin, his smile returned in full force. “Oh nothing you were just staring at me so intently that for a second I thought you were about to pull out your telescope to get a better view.”

She rolled her eyes stepping past him as she turned her attention to the rest of the room that she promptly decided would have to be dealt with ‘later’. “Ha ha very funny. I wasn’t staring at you. I was just wondering…Was your nebula popular?”

His expression somewhat soured as she watched him run his hand through his hair, completely combing away the black strands from his now bluish grayish eyes as they narrowed at her. “Maybe? I don’t know..” 

She couldn’t stop herself from asking her next question, “Were you the most or least popular star in your nebula?”

His brow furrowed in thought as he frowned, “Hmm neither? I was the only ‘child’ there so to speak.”

“Well were you popular with your caretakers?”

He shrugged, “Ehh I don’t know. I’m pretty sure I had them on rotation. I wasn’t exactly an angel back then per se.” 

She grinned, imagining a toddler Cepheus wreaking havoc on his poor caretakers. “So you were a bad child huh? I guess it checks out.”

He smiled sheepishly, as he scratched the back of his neck “Ok so I might have started out bad, but-,”

“But?” She repeated, not quite able to completely stifle her own chuckle.

“I got better.” She snorted. “I swear I did!” 

She could barely keep herself from laughing as she asked, “So you’re what you’d consider good now? A reformed person? You’ve (no pun intended) seen the light?”

“Eh…Close enough, I suppose,” he smiled. Now she was laughing, not necessarily at him but at the whole revelation of Sirius- Sirius, being a bad child.

“Don’t feel too bad about it starboy,” she smiled as she sat next to him. “it’s not a bad thing to be a boisterous child, alright? Trust me, when I was little, I don’t think I was exactly an amazing child either.”

#the kingdom of the stars #wish au #writers on tumblr #a03 fanfic #a03 writer #cepheus

[istadris]

Luigi has become good friends with Prince Dreambert and they often talk about dreams whenever one of them travels to visit the other (mostly Luigi since he has more time to do so). Luigi has insomnia and Dreambert is determined to help him through it as the prince of dreams and often cuddles with him while napping or when the nightmares get really bad at night and Luigi needs comfort. A secretly resurrected Antasma in his bat form finds out one night while spying through the window when Luigi visits again and goes feral. You may continue it as you like.

Just so you know, you are more than welcome to send me as many prompts/ideas/plotbunnies like this one as you want 8D

(Also as an aside : in French, Dreambert's name is Tédibert, which I find incredible because Teddy Bear pun + old-fashioned suffix that sounds like a medieval name ?? French translation wins this one, sorry folks)

*

Dreambert becoming friends with Luigi would be so cute! Unlike many other people, Dreambert has seen first-hand what Luigi is capable of, and how brave, loyal and powerful Luigi can be. So of course he would want to help him, not just as the prince of dreams, but as a close friend !

Pi'illo Island has so many remedies and places to help with sleep and nightmares issues, which Luigi can finally take the time to explore at his leisure with Dreambert. The prince doesn't mind having Luigi sleep on his pillow form either, on the contrary, and travels with Luigi across the Dream World to help him relax away from nightmares.Still, it takes a lot of time and Luigi starts to worry he's bothering his friends...

*

Now as for Antasma...once again, I could see different roads for what could happen with your idea.

The silly shippy part of me is having fun with Antasma being jealous of Dreambert...and having a small part of him that he can't identify wishing someone would cuddle him like Luigi does with Dreambert. Maybe he tries to steal Luigi away from the dream prince to obtain this wish XD

Smart Villain Antasma though...ooooh, he would go feral indeed, but also would relish in the opportunity of getting rid of Dreambert AND getting the power of Luigi for himself. Realizing he has an in when he hears Luigi complain about his insomnia yet finding comfort thanks to the Pi'illo's help. Maybe find a way to trick Luigi ; managing to talk with him alone (in the real or the dream world), maybe under a false appearance, claiming he can eat Luigi's bad dreams to help him and speed up the process a lot. And Luigi, who fears constantly he's abusing his friend's hospitality (which isn't the case, Dreambert is delighted to have him, but Luigi's brain won't let him accept that), Luigi thinks it sounds like a good idea indeed...after all, he has tried many Pi'illo tricks and remedies, what's wrong with one more...? But once he starts giving an access to his dreams, that's all Antasma needs to sow the first seeds of his influence, anchor himself in Luigi's dreams and start manipulating them...

#super mario bros #mario & luigi dream team #mario & luigi #antasma #miscellaneous mario madness #I'll need a tag for this series of ideas about Luigi and Antasma...any suggestions ? #luitasma

[notanerdyprude]

fun things i noticed rewatching npmd act 1:

sam sweetly was investigating richies death

richie messed with his fingers absentmindedly

everyone pronounces stephs last name correctly (law-ter) except the teacher (low-ter) because teachers cant pronounce peoples names correctly

pete is almost always curled into himself while steph is almost always sat more like. outward. i dont know how to describe it.

petes plaid on his suspenders and bowtie matches stephs flannel

stephanie wears a lot of jewellery

ruth and richie hold on to pete at the end of “literal monster”’s first chorus

the literal monster choreogrophy fucking SLAPS byw

richie is such a bitch “its LIPSCHITZ 🙄🙄” “i never intended to walk through your hallway”

richie keeps his hands under his armpits most of the time

graces little “mhm. mhm.” after she says “his name is jesus christ” >>>

max and grace nodding at eachother is never not going to be funny to me

kyle is max’s biggest hype-man. homosexual activity if you ask me.

ruth and the nerd in purple enter the stage hiding behind the bleachers during max’s verse

“next time youre going to cheat do it like a lauter and dont get caught” so solomon most likely got to his position illegally

“somebody WALKS to the office with STEPHANIE LAUTER 🙄” richie is a Bitch

ruth cares very deeply about library rules

she immediately stops caring about them as soon as stephanie lauter calls him

ruth rolls her eyes when richie starts his “aot > star wars shit”, so shes clearly heard this a shit ton before

petes jumper also matches stephanies foannel

pete is in the shadows for a good part of cooler than i think i am because he keeps walking through them

as soon as the bridge is done he goes from being in the light to beingbik the shadows again

peter can also be a bitch

max doesnt come from money

max started being a prick in 4th grade

jason seems to be an actually good dude.

max has a major god complex obviously but like. it is bad. it is BAD.

mark, despite being married to her, calls graces mom ‘mother’

graces mom also wears butterfly clips

richies side eye the second steph walks over im DECEASED.

richie looks so horrified by steph touching him

cooler than him tune plays when they walk into the boys bathroom

richie side-eyes people a lot

“steph-an-ie”

pete’s “grace 🙄” i love him hes so bitchy

hatchet town tune plays in the bg a lot

richie naruto runs into the waylon place

richie is VERY excited by the plan “WE’LL MAKE HIM SHIT HIS PANTS 😁”

petes a marvel nerd. he does both the hulk and spidermans gestures

richie is ruths wingman confirmed

richie fiddles with the little tassles on petes jacket

max is very good at puns

will is scarily good at sounding like blood is coming out of his mouth

pete has a very short temper

grace actively cheers for ruth after she cuts off max’s nips

stacy calls richie “mr. lipschitz”. for some reason.

THE HARMONIES IN GO GO NIGHTHAWKS ARE SO GOOD

richie calls jason jace :(( /pos

“theyre my bros for life” they said ONE nice thing to you get some standards i BEG

richies face immeidately dropping as soon as max says “richieee”

richies wearing 4 layers on top and a pair of shorts. transgender.

max’s blood is sparkly.

max shakes his hand after touching richie

max thinks people in the smoke club are cool

max locks the door on richie

he does the choreo from thriller by michael jackson

richies squeal after max makes him fall

max is heavy projecting onto richie

max seems genuinely pissed when richie says ‘im not a loser.’ he only chills when richie says ‘please don’t kill me’.

he taunts richie by calling him his actual name. he never called richie his real name, only shit-lips. false sense of security type shit.

#starkid #nerdy prudes must die #npmd

[bluebunnyears-08]

The Possible Symbolism Of The Name Nine

Yeah, yeah, I know I already did an analysis of Nine but this just got stuck in my head and I needed to post this. I already did an analysis of what Nine represents, but I found another thing interesting and that's the act that they just named him "Nine".

One thing I learned is that SEGA name's their characters for a reason. Like, Sonic was named due to how fast he was (the term supersonic speed), Shadow was named due to being a complete opposite doppelganger to Sonic, Amy Rose (originally Amelia Rose) which Amelia is deprived of germanic meaning work, reflecting her hardworking personality and Rose, reflecting her everlasting love for Sonic.

While Tail's is a nickname, which basically comments on how he had two tails, his real name is Miles Prower (being a pun on "miles-per-hour", nice job SEGA).

However, Nine's name is just Nine in-universe. Just Nine and nothing else. But what does it reflect and say about him?

Nine is a cold, blunt, bad-tempered, emotionally distant, psychologically exhausted, love/touch-starved kit who had NOTHING until Sonic came. But what does the title Nine say about that?

Well, I did a lot of research and it turns out that naming him Nine has a LOT of possible symbolism.

Let's get the obvious out of the way, it's clear that the term Nine refers to his extra tails and also due to the fact that he was based on the Japanese folklore of kitsune. Kitsune when reaching the final stage of maturity gains nine tails, so it's perfect for a mature and tired variant of Tails.

But looking into the symbolism of the number Nine more I found a LOT more interesting things.

There's another belief in Japan that contains the number Nine. It turns out the Japanese word for Nine sounds almost exactly the same as the Japanese word for "Suffer" or "Torture", and as a result, the number is considered to be an unlucky number. From what we've seen Nine HAS suffered A LOT and most likely will continue to suffer, and he's a very unlucky variant of Tails.

Japan isn't the only one who thinks of Nine as an unlucky number. Some religions consider it to be bad due to it being one short of 10.

However in some religions, like Hebrew, Nine is a symbol of truth, and while it can reflect on how blunt Nine is, it can also become ironic if Nine refuses to accept the truth that Sonic can't ever be by his side in The Grim.

In numerology, the number Nine represents completion - not a final ending, but a fulfillment of one cycle. The number also represents world experiences. Not to mention many phrases such as "cats have nine lives", and "dressed to the nines" also seem to relate to the maximum or fullness of something when every effort has been exhausted. However there are bad traits to Nine, unrealistic standards (for self or others), or being prone to over-giving.

In Christianity, Nine symbolizes A LOT of things so bear with me here. In Christianity, the number Nine is considered neither good nor bad, rather very ambiguous (which relates to the moral ambiguity of Nine). It can be considered the number of destruction or illness, but it can also represent completeness or finality.

An interesting thing about the symbolism of Nine in Christianity is that while it is associated with the crucifixion of Jesus (Christ died at the Ninth hour) it's not considered bad because the death of Christ opened the gates of salvation for humankind.

According to the Christain God's Word, Nine represents judgment, patience, harmony, development, and creation. Nine holds a lot of judgment towards others, Nine while mild-tempered shows some patience with how he sticks with Sonic despite the hedgehog getting them into trouble, Nine doesn't show harmony but he might in future episodes, Nine develops a LOT in the show, and the creation one is his knack for inventing.

In folklore, the number Nine is considered to be Triple Perfection or Harmony x3. I'm not sure what this represents but I thought that was interesting.

There's a thing called the Day of Atonement, which occurs on the Ninth day of the seventh month (July), and is considered a holy day for the Jews in the Bible.

There are more things like Hoshea reigning Isreal for Nine years, or how the destruction of Jerusalem's temples on the 9th Av on the Hebrew calendar.

Whew! Ok, so those are the symbolisms of the number Nine I could find that could relate or possibly relate to this character. Sorry, it was so long, but I tried to put as much as I could from what I could find but I didn't want to turn this into some sort of religious lesson. If you guys somehow managed to get to the end, I hope you somewhat enjoyed it.

#sonic prime #more sonic prime! #nine sonic prime #sonic prime spoilers #nine the fox #nine deserves to win no matter what #nine needs a hug #sonic fandom #oh nine... #miles nine prower #tails nine #nine inch nails #nine tails #sonic prime nine