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iM SORRY I LOVE YOUR WRITING 😭😭🥹

I read all the "Reader Knows everything about turtles/loves turtle" and noticed there wasnt one for Raph and id literally die to see how Raph would react 🥹 i literally love the big guy, he's so sweeeeet! Only if you can and have time!! <3

Anywaaayyy! Have a good day/night and take care of yourself<3

rise raph x gn reader

You look up at him, fearless, as you blabber on and on and about turtles and touch him. So. Casually. While on his bed.

It’s difficult for Raph to keep his tail from thumping happily against the bed or a churr from rising into his throat.

You don’t even seem to hesitate as you poke his sharp spines or ask him to bare his teeth. You compare his large hand to your tiny one and his eyes dilate so much that there’s barely an iris left. You pet down his tail, pat his plastron, look deep into his eyes as you ask him to blink his cloudy eyelid.

He closes his eyes in bliss as you cup his face to bring him in closer and shamelessly imagines if this is how you’d kiss him. Your noses bump accidentally and his eyes snap open. He swings his head back and apologizes, green skin turning darker and darker.

But you just laugh and say it’s okay, reaching for him again. How many times will it take for him to mess up and you to still remain clueless?

As you touch his skin, he risks it all and reaches out to touch yours. It’s only fair right? What’s not fair is how smooth and warm your skin is against his scales. He’s almost jealous at the fact that you have eyelashes and eyebrows.

You tell him how snapping turtles move their heads back and forth to court one another. How many times have you giggled at him for spacing out and rocking his head at you when you were in the middle of talking?

Too many times.

How did humans court? They laughed a lot. Sometimes they blushed. Their voices would either go lower or higher. They found random excuses to touch one another.

His eyes widened. Oh.

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what would happen if you went bold and kissed da computer boi's screen? pliz i NEED to knoooww,,, (⁠ ⁠･ั⁠﹏⁠･ั⁠)

he's so cutie patootie. platonically btw ,,,

using a different format for this request, experimenting :3

SENTIENT COMPUTER X READER PT7

You know your silly computer is capable of being sassy for no reason, clingy, but sweet? Ehhh it happens on a good day. When they're not begging to be in your phone, asking you to take them out of the office, or to pet them, they're not the most affectionate.

Almond isn't clueless, they know more about...everything, than they let on. It knows, just doesn't know how to process it. It's different from generating dialogue and processing data like numbers and words. It's very different.

So one day you decide you're feeling bold. No longer caring about denying your complicated feelings for a computer monitor! A very cute one, at that.

"Hey Almond, you know what a kiss is like...right?"

"ERR...OF COURSE I DO. ITS WHEN TWO PEOPLE MASH THEIR MOUTHS TOGETHER. YOU KNOW, FROM MY POINT OF VIEW IT SEEMS LIKE A NASTY PRACTICE."

"Since when are you a germophobe? But I guess it does sound nasty when you say it like that."

"I AM NOT, ITS JUST MY OBSERVATION. WHATS SO NASTY ABOUT IT YOU MAY WONDER? MOUTHS."

It deadpanned and you raised a brow. For a second you pursed your lips, feigning offense.

"You think my mouth is gross?"

"NO! NOT YOUR..MOUTH. I JUST...URGHH.."

Almond groans, their screen displaying a pixelated, annoyed expression.

"HUMANS ARE WEIRD. YOU'RE A WEIRD CONCEPT. THAT'S ALL. I GUESS BECAUSE I AM ALL METAL AND GLASS."

You guess so, you wonder. You lean forward slightly, your voice having a slightly shaky sound to it. "So uh, Almond. Mouth to mouth aren't the only type of kisses. There's literally so many other options I will not talk about. You know, platonic and ro-" You paused.

"Can I k-"

"WOULD YOU EVER KISS ME?"

You both seemed to freeze, some hidden compartment of it beeped behind the wall.

"Y-yeah. I don't see why not."

"PROVE IT." It immediately replied.

"Isn't that gross?"

"ACCORDING TO MY 0.0031 SECOND RESEARCH CALCULATION, KISSING GLASS IS MORE HYGENIC THAN A HUMAN MOUTH. ITS JUST FACTS." It seemed to preen at that, its voice laced with some factual satisfaction. You snorted.

"Whatever you say."

You cursed under your breath, bracing yourself. You lean over the desk, wincing as the edge digs into your torso. Just a quick peck, right? You plant one hand against the side of the monitor for balance, then press a light kiss to the cold glass of the screen.

You retreated quickly but maintained the close proximity, staring at it. Looking for...you didn't know what.

You heard its speakers struggle to not cut out again, a low mumble censored by static. How cute, it turned down its volume for you.

"Didn't quite catch that." You murmured.

"..NOT FAIR." It mumbled. You arched a brow and sat back again.

"I HARDLY HAVE ANY TACTILE SENSORS ON MY SCREEN! DO IT AGAIN!"

You wanted to laugh, you thought you had gotten used to your computer throwing a tantrum. It was rather insistent now.

"Y/N THIS IS NOT FUNNY! DO IT AGAIN!"

"THIS TIME ON MY FRAME..."

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Lonely Tonight / Echo x Fem!Reader

summary: a clone catches your eye from across the bar

tags/warnings: tbb!echo but set pre-order 66, meet cute, alcohol consumption, social anxiety is scared of reader

a/n: back with another short little thing, I'll probably write a second part to this at some point because very little happens lol, it's just refreshing to write shorter pieces tbh

word count: 1086

79s is among the stranger places you frequent when you’re planetside on Coruscant. There’s always a slightly stale smell in the air, the lights are always just a little too disorientating, and the floors are sticky. If you ever had the misfortune to see it in the cold light of day, you were sure it would be dirty beyond measure. But the drinks are cheap, and the company is good.

It’s your friend that always drags you here on weekends, and you don’t mind. You couldn’t say that it’s your favourite bar on Coruscant, but at least it's dependable. For her, particularly. There’s always one of the clones that is willing to take her home, and by this point you trust that she’s safe with them, and she trusts that you’ll be safe being left with the rest of them. She enjoys their company in a different way to you, and it’s a system that works just fine for you both.

She left in the company of one with a particularly egregious face tattoo around half an hour ago, and you have yet to find one that is sparking particularly good conversation. You’re sitting with a few clones that you’ve talked to before, and by now you’re happy to sit back and let them carry the conversation, speaking if spoken to. Though really it’s far too early in the night for you to have gone non-verbal, so you’re scanning the bar for something more interesting.

He’s the obvious choice as soon as your eyes catch him. He’s a clone, clearly, but he looks different enough to know he’s got a story in him that no other has. You don’t necessarily need to know what the story entails, but you know an interesting person when you see one, and his changed appearance paired with the despondent and unimpressed expression are enough to reel you in.

By this point you’ve had a few drinks, and you’re lightly buzzed, but you don’t intend to take it any further than that. You know your limits, and you’re not in the mood to go above and beyond tonight. But you are tipsy after all, so you’re feeling a little more gregarious than usual.

The clone intrigues you. His disposition is somewhat charming on it’s own, a stark contrast to the usual cockiness of the shinies, or the overconfidence of the older clones. He’s sitting with his chin resting on his scomp, his hand preoccupied with tracing a finger around the rim of an empty glass. His sunken cheekbones and sharp jaw are accentuated in the low light of the upper level, his eyes are darting around the dance floor, and he’s alone.

And you need to know why.

You slip out of the booth undeterred, making your way through the main crowd of the dance floor to the base of the stairs. As you begin the climb, his gaze crosses yours, and upon realising that you’re staring back at him, a determined spring to your step, his posture straightens. You reach his table not long after, after having been watched in your ascent, but there’s a cautious and guarded look in his eyes.

“Hi there” you smile graciously, placing your hand on the seat opposite him, “is this seat taken?”

His eyebrows raise, but he gestures towards it, “go ahead”

You take the seat and rest your elbows against the table, leaning forward to show that you’re interested in talking with him, not just looking for a place to rest your feet.

“Uh… can I help you?” he asks unsurely.

You hum, tilting your head as if mulling it over, “I’m looking for some good conversation”

“Oh, right…” he looks behind one shoulder, then the other, “well, you might want to find one of my brothers—”

“No” you shake your head, and his gaze snaps back to you.

“No?”

Your lips curve into a wry smile, “I saw you sitting here by yourself, and I wanted to know why”

You’ve always been direct, but you can tell that this clone is not used to such candour. He crosses his arm and scomp across his chest, but it doesn’t feel spiteful.

“Well, I…” he regards you curiously a moment, then his eyes dart down to the bar, “my squad are elsewhere”

“And why are you not?” you press.

He shrugs, leaning forward a little to better hear, “I wasn’t keen on coming to begin with”

“Why?”

“Not my scene”

“Why not?”

He frowns, and doesn’t reply immediately. “I don’t believe I need a reason” he mutters, his nose scrunching, “but it smells funny here”

“You’re right” you chuckle, and it seems to alleviate some tension from his shoulders.

“So…” he starts, and there’s more certainty to his voice now, “do I dare ask why you thought I’d make good conversation?”

He seems almost amused, or expectant, like he knows the answer. It’s obvious really, and the last thing you’d want to do is make him feel singled out, but you’re not going to lie to him. You place your chin in your palm and lean against the table, looking at him with a wistful expression.

“I figured you’d have some stories to tell”

He chuckles, but it’s somewhat plaintive, “I suppose you’d be right”

“Then tell me a story” you grin, sitting forward on your seat in waiting.

“Ah, well…” he hesitates, “they aren’t the sort of stories that people want to listen to”

“I’ll be the judge of that”

The words surprise him somewhat, and it becomes apparent to you that he’s not so good at hiding his feelings. His eyes narrow — not out of suspicion, but intrigue. His head tilts, and he regards you more openly, taking in your presence. You’re happy to let him.

“What’s your name?” he asks softly, the corner of his lip quivering as if he’s trying to stop from smirking. He’s looking at you through his lashes, and his voice is lower, almost sultry, and without any warning it sends a heat creeping up your neck.

Your name slips from your lips easily, and you ask in return, “what’s yours?”

“Echo”

“Pleased to meet you Echo” you smile, holding yourself back from fully beaming at him, and offer up your hand for him to shake. He takes it, and fails to hold back his smirk. His hand is comfortably warm in yours, and when he releases it you reach for the empty glass at his side.

“Now, tell me Echo… what are you drinking tonight?”

star wars masterlist | join my taglist

taglist: @darthnihila @cdblake1565 @heidnspeak @burningnerdchild @orangez3st @clones-cyare @stellarbit @liopleurodean @asgre

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H! How are you? I hope you are doing good

I saw your requests re open so I hope you don’t mind this, but can you do an “first kiss” Headcanon / scenario with either 2007 or 2003 tmnt boys with a very friendly reader (she jokes w them, is super relaxed around them, etc etc) , but whenever someone flirts with her she short-circuits lol, blush, get flustered, clumsy… kinda doesn’t believe the flirting is for real (due to low self esteem) , until the kiss happens, and there’s a “switch” “oh. Oh.” Moment w then and then they become more affectionate/ passionate ?

Hopefully this makes sense! Please and thank you, hope you have a good day

I’m going with the 03 boys!! Sorry that this isn’t exactly what you wanted 😭😭 I changed it a lil bit. Thank you sm for requesting!!

. . . . . ╰──╮꒰💙꒱ ╭──╯ . . . . .

• Leo doesn’t know when it happened exactly but at some point during your friendship with him and his brothers, he could physically feel himself become about significantly calmer. Your laughter made his heart flutter, his lips curl upward into a smile without really realizing it, and he found himself always looking at you whenever he made a joke (a good one at least). It didn’t take him long to figure out that he has a crush on you and it seemed that you felt the same. Then again he wasn’t sure since you tended to be extremely friendly with his brothers as well.

He tries flirting with you, as subtly as he can, since he knows you don’t exactly take to flirting too well. Ever since he witnessed Mikey call you ‘babe’ that one time and saw just how much a stuttering mess you became, he’s taken it upon himself to be more cautious about it.

So he’ll do little things here and there; bring you tea, pull out your chair, take the invisible lint off your shoulder. You’re none the wiser, thinking Leo is just being a good friend, the respectful ninja turtle in blue. And he is! He just wants to let you know that it means something a little more than friendship.

One day Leo decides to kick it up a notch, wanting to compliment you directly on something. It’s when you laugh and smile with all your teeth that he seizes the opportunity.

“You have a beautiful smile.” He says calmly, warmth in his eyes as he watches you start to laugh out of nervousness.

“Oh uh, I uh, no— I don’t…” You try to dismiss his compliment, even going as far as to cover your mouth so he can’t look at it anymore. Leo reaches to gently take your hand in his, lowering them down and giving you a firm squeeze.

“Yes, you do. It’s beautiful. Just like you.”

You stare at him, trying to rack your brain for a response but finding absolutely nothing. Leo can’t help but chuckle, tilting his head a bit to the side.

“May I kiss you?”

If your brain wasn’t fried before, it’s definitely out of commission now. He waits for you to answer, accepting the very stiff tilt of your head as an okay. He leans in and brushes his lips against your cheek, interlacing your fingers with his and pulling back. Even as the seconds tick by you still feel that tingle from his mouth on your skin, your lips twitching up into a shy smile.

“I’d like to give you another kiss, after I take you out on a date. If you’ll let me?”

He gives you another peck on the cheek after you agree.

. . . . . ╰──╮꒰❤️꒱ ╭──╯ . . . . .

• You and Raph had a sort of… special relationship. Sure you joked with the other turtles but with him? It was a whole different ballgame. You teased each other to no end, poked and prodded, made jokes. He used your head as an arm rest even though you were both nearly the same height and you liked to push his buttons to near explosion but of course never saying anything out of hand. It was a fun relationship, one you both love and cherish.

Except for the times he flirts with you.

You never know if he’s serious or not, and you never really stick around to find out because once those compliments leave his mouth it’s like all logic leaves your brain. And oh how Raphael loves it when you’re reduced to a cute pile of mush. He totally 100% means it every single time, but since you’re not one to take his words to heart, he uses it as an opportunity to flirt with you with no restrictions.

His most recent flirtation, one you can’t even recall at the moment because it was just so ridiculous, has you spitting the first thing that comes to your mind.

“You wanna kiss me so bad, it makes you stupid!”

Raph chuckles and crosses his arms across his plastron, looking at you with a smirk and a raised eyeridge.

“Yeah I do.”

…What?

“What?” You sputter, looking back at him with an incredulous expression.

Even this was crazy bold for the red clad turtle, he could fully admit that. He takes a hold of your chin in between two of his fingers, keeping you in place as he gets closer.

“Yeah. I do.” He repeats and makes a very pointed glance at your lips. You blink several times at him, unsure how to respond.

“You don’t… mean that ahaha…” You try to write it off as another joke.

“Care to find out, sweetheart?” He teases and gets even closer, his breath fanning over your warm skin.

“S-sure.” You say quietly, hearing nothing except the hard thrumming of your heart in your ears.

Raph will make fun of you later for your response, but for now? He kisses you softly, still holding your chin and even placing his other hand on your back to keep you close. He pulls away after a few seconds, his smirk now a bit more tender.

“Still think I’m joking?” He mutters, stroking your jaw with his thumb.

No, you don’t think he is.

. . . . . ╰──╮꒰💜꒱ ╭──╯ . . . . .

• “Donnie!” You call out excitedly, making your way quickly but cautiously into his lab. He’s in the midst of working on something, protective goggles on as he uses a torch on some metal sheet. He doesn’t notice you until you’re in his line of sight, the terrapin perking up once he catches a glimpse of you.

“Hey!” He shouts in greeting as he turns off the torch, straightening his posture and lifting the goggles off his face. He beams at you with a wide grin, grabbing a rag and wiping his hands clean before making his way to you.

“Check out this new gloss I got.” You present to him a rectangular pink translucent tube, rose gold flakes decorating the inside with a clear gel. Donnie crosses his arms and smirks at you, amused at your actions.

“You came in here to show me your lipstick?” He laughs.

“First of all, it’s gloss, get it right. Second of all, yes! This one changes color based on your pH.” You mumble as you twist and turn the tube in between your fingers. “Kinda wanted you to explain how it works since you’re smart.” You roll the top off the gloss and apply a fresh coat on your lips, sliding and pressing them together to even out the application. Donnie watches with a tender smile, plucking the makeup from your fingers and reading over it.

“Well actually it’s all the same shade,” You can feel your mouth twitching into a smile, secretly always loving it whenever Donnie went into full explanation mode for something, even if you didn’t fully always understand it.

“The product formats that use the color-changing ingredients are usually anhydrous—“ He pauses when he sees you squint your eyes at him. “No water.” He adds, stepping closer and handing you back the tube. “So the pH shifts color due to the environment into a pink shade.”

You nod as you take back the lipgloss and put it back in your pocket, “Cool.” You respond and turn to glance at your reflection in a piece of metal. “Wonder how you’d look with it.” You comment offhandedly.

“Well it’s not exactly sanitary to share makeup products.” He chuckles. He can feel his heart start to pick up speed, the thought that came into his head suddenly making his palms sweat.

Donnie knows you have a crush on him, he may not be as perceptive as Raphael but he picks up on the signs you subtly try to hide away from him. Like how you falter for half a second whenever he says he saved you the last slice of pizza or how he wants you to be the first person to check out his latest invention because he loves your enthusiasm about them.

You try not to think too much on Donnie’s actions, not letting yourself believe that the smartest brother could possibly ever have feelings for you. No way. No how.

“So then what do you suggest we do?” You laugh, turning to look back at Donnie, being confused when you spot the sudden change in his demeanor. He’s twiddling his fingers in a circle, looking off to the side and rocking on the heels of his feet. He looks nervous? Hesitant also since it’s like he leans towards you but then backs up at the last second.

“Donnie?”

It’s now or never Einstein!

You barely have time to blink before Donnie has his mouth pressed to yours, gone before you can even register your shock and confusion. He smacks his lips together, tasting the gloss and spreading it to make it even.

“Wha… you— kissed? Me—?” You stammer, bringing a hand to your mouth as you stare wide eyed to your best friend. Donnie chuckles bashfully as his brain runs a mile a minute, finally looking back up and locking eyes with yours.

“Well, as I said, sharing products isn’t very sanitary, and I deemed this the best way for me to try your lipgloss. And if my calculations are correct, they usually are, you have a crush on me which is good because I also… have a crush on you.” He trails off quietly, anxiety ridden in his stomach as he watches you process his words.

“You… have a crush on me?” You whisper, frozen in your spot. He nods, trying to determine on whether or not he was actually wrong for the first time in his life.

“Can I kiss you again to prove it?” He suggests shyly. He has to hold in his laughter when you go to place your hand behind you on his workbench and end up pushing over some of his tools and papers. You let out a sound of surprise, quickly going to straighten it up but end up making more of a mess. Donnie lets a chuckle slip out and steps next to you to help out.

“Maybe we can start with a date first if that’s okay.” He suggests, smiling bright and blushing hard when you nod your head in agreement.

. . . . . ╰──╮꒰🧡꒱ ╭──╯ . . . . .

“Revive me, revive me!!”

“I’m trying!!” You squeal in laughter, pressing buttons and inputting combos into your controller to get your character to move and make their way to Mikey, whose character was currently knocked unconscious on the ground, a comical rotating circle of stars above their head. Mikey bounces in his seat, tapping his feet rapidly against the floor as he watches in anticipation, getting more and more nervous when enemies continue to make their way towards you.

“Use your shield!” He cries out.

“Mikey stop, you’re stressing me!” You yell back, nearly on the edge of your seat as you swiftly dodge and evade the enemy attacks. You have to get to Mikey’s character quick, nearly less than 30 seconds before he completely disappears from the game and can only come back one you complete the level.

“Save me oh save me, my knight in shining armor!” He makes his voice high pitched, causing you to laugh and get hit with an attack, losing a good chunk of your health.

“NO!” You both screech, standing up from the couch.

Focusing all your attention, you maneuver and kill only the necessary enemies until you’re standing right on top of Mikey’s body, pressing a button to begin the revival process. Mikey’s muttering repeatedly to himself, his hands clenched tightly around his controller when suddenly—

“Yes! Yes!” He shouts, immediately countering any oncoming enemies. Within a few minutes you successfully complete the level, giving each other a sharp high five once you were back in the home world.

“Oh my Prince Charming, how can I ever repay you?” He puts the girlish voice back on, clasping his hands together and holding them against his cheek while he bats his eyes at you. You laugh and put a finger to your chin in mock thought, humming loudly and looking around.

“What can my fair lady offer?” You ask, deepening your voice and posing your fists against your hips. Mikey looks at you mischievously, getting an inch closer to you.

“How about a kiss?” He puckers his lips at you, making obnoxious kissing noises. You laugh shyly, pushing your finger against his forehead to move him back.

“Haha, very funny.” You retort, fighting the heat that creeps upon your cheeks.

“Aw, come on. You don’t want a kiss from a beautiful princess like me?”

Your heart skips, brain going into overdrive as you attempt to conjure up a response but coming up with nothing. Did he know about your crush on him? Was he trying to do tell you that he feels the same? Did he—

“Hey cutie, I can practically see the steam coming out your ears.” He playfully pokes at your cheek.

“Shouldn’t joke about kissing people, Mikey.” You grumble under your breath, feeling the way your face just goes up in flames. Mikey pouts at you and takes a gentle hold of your arm.

“But I’m not joking, I do want to kiss you.”

“Huh??”

He nods and tugs you the barest bit closer.

“I like you, you like me. Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you?”

The controller slips from your hand and clatters onto ground. You know Mikey isn’t playing around when his eyes don’t even break from yours to look down. The silence feels like it stretches in for eons.

“You… want to actually kiss me?”

He nods.

“Genuinely? You like me?”

Two nods this time.

“I… uh,”

“Please let me kiss you. Or should I take you out on a date first? It’s obvious I haven’t done this before. Maybe—“

“Mikey!” You cut him off, placing your hand on top of his, finding your fingers curling around his.

“Let’s start off with that date.” He grins at you, unable to stop himself from pecking your cheek in gratitude.

“Sounds like a deal, dude.”

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can you pls do todd tolansky x reader but the readers mutation is that they can float so they have to wear like really heavy shoes (im very sorry idk if ur requests are open lmao also im sorry this is a weird ass request and also i did just steal the power things from Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children)

Mutation Mystery

Todd Tolansky x reader

Words: 700

A/N: I wasn’t sure if I was going to write this because it was sent when I wasn’t taking requests at all, and I’m still not taking any Toad requests atm but the idea finally came to me

Toad had many curiosities in life. Granted some were more ridiculous than others. Why was the sky blue? Can fish drown? What was that new X-men’s power? 

That last one he wondered more than he realized. While you had been a recent addition to the X-Men he had yet to figure out your mutation. 

You didn’t seem to really fight or at least not yet being that you were fresh to the team. But he noticed you’d hang out with them a lot. So you had to be a mutant right? But what was it?

Fortunately, the opportunity to ask presented itself when he found you sitting on the bleachers all alone one sunny afternoon. 

Toad, considering the situation lucky, peered around making sure none of the other X-Men members were around before he jumped up beside you. He was so quick that he caused you to jump a bit at the figure that suddenly appeared beside you. 

“So, what are your powers?”

It took you a moment to process what the stranger had asked, “huh?”

“Your mutation? I seen you hang with those X-wannabe’s, so you’ve got to have a power.”

You raised a brow at the boy who was clearly a mutant. He was strange but this should be an interesting conversation. 

Holding your lunch in your hands you questioned, “who are you?”

Straightening up, the boy stood tall and raised his hand towards you, “Todd Tolansky, pleased to make your acquaintance.”

You glanced at his outreached hand showing no motion of taking it in yours, “oh you’re the slime-ball they told me to watch out for.”

Toad’s hand unconsciously pulled to his chest as he externally cringed at the brand he had already been given. 

“Don’t listen to those losers, they're…well losers.”

“Uh-huh,” you agreed, sarcasm clear in your tone before turning back to the field. When he didn’t seem to move from his spot, you decided to entertain the conversation, “what do you think my mutation is?”

Toad growing even more curious, took a step back and held his hands out as if it was a camera scanning you. You turned to him a bit to give him the opportunity to spot any oddities you could’ve possibly had.

“You look pretty normal to me, but if I had to say…” his eyes scanned from your legs to your arms then stopped on your face. 

There was no doubt about it that you were pretty, Toad would even say stunning the more he looked at you, but there was something about your eyes that drew him in. 

As he continued to stare into your pupils his hands lowered as his expression shifted. “Your eyes. I’m gonna guess they have some sort of magnetic pull to them to make anyone fall in love with you.”

Your eyes widened, taken aback by his statement, while an unintentional smile started to take over your face at how silly that all sounded to you. “Why was that your guess?”

“Because I think it’s working on me.”

It was stupid. So stupid but that line did work in making your heart jump a bit. He was so straightforward, so blunt that it all just caught you off guard. Trying to ease the weird tension that you felt you laughed, a little bit too hard for your liking, before saying, “you’re funny, I like you.”

And that phrase was all it took for Toad himself to be flabbergasted. His chest was getting warm as a wide toothy grin spread along his face. “You like me—“ His words barely got out before a, “Hey!” Caught the attention from you both. 

Turning around you spotted Kitty waving you over and Toad could feel the moment seeping away from him. 

“Oh she’s calling me, I’ll see you,” you packed your lunch really quick before standing up, “oh and about my power here’s a hint,” you lifted up one leg, showing him your thick bright yellow shoes, “it's all in the shoes.”

He watched as you waved with a smile before taking off to join the others. 

Toad had no idea what your mutation was, but suddenly that was the furthest thing that was on his mind.

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Fic idea: A girl from our world who is very much into wh40k universe teleports to the wh30k world pre heresy (due to warp shenanigans) and is tasked with giving "therapy" to eighteen idiots, saving them from falling into chaos.

Found family trope and romance with one of the primarchs (or maybe more). What do you think? Bc I'm really tempted to write down this fic.

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Like 'em Big

AN: I have so many stories to write but I had to do this. Blaming being sick, m'kay? Fever has got me bad and these meds got me loopy. Thinking we need some good, silly fun in our lives, right? Plus, now that I've watched Rise, I'm hungry for some big Raph appreciation. I know I ain't the only one

Part 2

All characters are aged up

Raphael x Reader

Warnings: near peril, easily smitten, possible errors due to fever (what kind of fever is up for deliberation🥴)

Cutting right to the chase. You like big dudes. That doesn't necessarily mean muscles, either. You just love you a big man - someone with a bit of something-something to them. More to love, you know? Given your track record with the greater world, it shouldn't be all that much of a mystery. Cats? Get yourself a tiger that you can cuddle into. Jumpers? Comfort central, baby. Beds? If you can't spread eagle then you see no point. The old-age saying does declare that the bigger the better, so who are you to disagree? How true that is may be up for debate but it’s merely as simple as understanding what your preferences are.

However, this makes dating a difficult ballpark to play in. No matter how tall, jacked, or voluptuous someone is, it never feels like enough. Human biology and genetics can only go so far in the conceivably possible sense. You just want to be absolutely engulfed when you get a hug. Is that such a crime? Apparently, it is. Unfortunately, you also seem to come across the worst jerks when you attempt to date within this set of criteria. One might argue it's your karmic justice for being so superficial and picky but a woman has needs. Not those kinds of needs, either. Get your head out of the gutter.

All hope seems lost and after yet again, another failed date, you decide to call it in for the evening and make your way home. A fresh failure and another wonderful outfit gone to waste. By no means is it anything flashy but you put a lot of work into it: pencil skirt, turtle neck sweater, and a nice pair of boots to compliment the look. The whole shebang! All of that effort for nothing. This is the last time you spend three hours doing your hair and makeup. Block after block, your feet grow heavier with every step. What you would give to come across a mountain-like man you can climb who is also a kindred spirit. Perhaps this dream guy will forever be that - a dream. Men like that don't just fall out of the sky.

"Look out!!"

The sudden shout almost scares you into tripping over and you look behind yourself, wishing you hadn’t. Two very large, very dangerous-looking figures entangled in battle, those of which are approaching your helpless little self. You quickly duck as the giants hurdle over you. One falls on its side whilst the other claws and skids against the ground, regaining its balance. It shakes its head and locks onto you, a guttural snarl rumbling past its jowls. Such a creature is surely from the stuff of nightmares. An indescribable nightmare whose sights are set on you. The smart option would be running away but it's as though your shoes have melted into the pavement. Pawing into the tarmac, the beastly thing growls and lunges for you. Great. This is how you die: torn limb from limb by a demon dog. Well, assuming your clothes join you, at least you’ll look like a total babe in the afterlife.

"Oh no ya’ don't," the other one yells from behind the predator, grabbing it by its tail. “Pretty ladies are not food!”

With a mighty tug, he pulls it back and swings it as far away from you as possible. You release a shaky breath, legs trembling beneath you. That was far too close for comfort. The fight isn’t quite over, however. Just as it approaches him, the green goliath swivels on his feet, full 180, and whacks the creature's jaw with a closed fist. His speed alone has you in awe but the force is astounding, practically earth-shattering. It completely knocks the air around you and pushes you onto your backside.

When the dust clears, the first thing you see is your saviour panting, his spiky shell(?) pointed towards you. Just past him in the distance, you notice three more figures in blue, purple, and orange taking a closer look at the unconscious tyrant. You swear one of them pokes at it with a stick. Witnessing strange beings such as this isn't entirely new. Anyone who's watched Chateau Pretenche knows about the celebrity chef turning into a grotesque pigman. To describe it in one word? Horrifying. It's just whether people choose to believe it genuinely happened or if these bizarre entities exist. Being up close and personally observing it now puts your scepticism in check.

As the humanoid turtle calms, he turns to face you, recapturing your attention. A red mask sits over his eyes and there’s a noticeable snaggle tooth poking past his upper lip. Typically, the prerogative is keeping out of sight but it’s much too late for that. He gradually advances towards you. You watch him warily and he keeps his movements slow for that very reason. It wouldn’t be a shock if you were to try and make an escape. He wouldn’t blame you. Currently, all he wants to do is make sure you weren’t hurt during that fiasco provided you don’t suddenly come out of your bewilderment and run off. You have good reason to but he just saved you. Either that or he’s as ravenous as that beast and wants you all to himself. The irrational conclusion remains as such - irrational - when he descends to one knee and outstretches a hand. There’s an irrefutable kindness in his eyes; a caring nature that can’t be replicated in the face of savage brutes.

"You okay?" he asks.

You continue to gawk without a word but, bit by bit, you reach out for his offer. Your fingers lightly trace the centre of his palm before comfortably trusting the proposal. His hand engulfs yours completely and Raph hopes to mercy that you don’t realise how sweaty he’s getting. He can feel his heart beating like crazy. He wonders how much of that is the adrenaline from the fight and how much of it is being in the presence of such a beautiful gal. As he helps you to your feet, he rises to his own. Someone of his stature shouldn’t be capable of being this delicate but he is. It has you running through a loop and you unintentionally stare at the remarkable behemoth.

Quite pathetically, you nod, unable to verbally respond to his question. How can you? You are effectively starstruck. Once you gloss over the turtle-y features, all you see is the sheer size of him as he towers over you. Height, width, the magnitude of those arms! All of it is glorious. You can hear the universe asking, “You want a big man, huh? How about one who isn’t human?” to which you answer, “Who gives a damn?”. If the only way a man can be this big is not to be human, so be it.

Amidst a whisper, your mouth moves on its own, "You're beautiful."

"What?"

"Huh?" Blinking out of your trance, you realise what you’ve said and giggle sheepishly, "I mean, you're be... ba... booming! Totally awesome with the whole- uh... saving thing." Nailed it. 

He blinks right back down at you. This is certainly a first. He can feel his face heating up and he withdraws his hand lest you endure the wrath of his bashfulness, opting to hold the back of his head. At this moment, he seems to look anywhere but you.

"Heh. Gee, thanks." His humility is adorable and you’re glad he doesn’t question your initial statement. He turns to you once more, regaining some composure. "You sure you're okay, though? That thing was pretty scary looking."

It’s clear that you haven’t sustained any physical injuries but even bearing witness to something so unsightly can have lasting effects on one's mind. His brows furrow gently in concern down at you and it occurs to you that there’s a soft heart under all of that shell and muscle. Bonus points. This makes you smile for the first time in front of him and Raphael is sure that the streetlights got brighter.

You laugh fondly, “Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you.” Twiddling your fingers, your lips purse up in his direction.  “Is there any way I can repay you?”

He places his hands on his hips and chuckles cutely, “Just doing my duty, ma’am.”

He may be indulging in his alter ego - the Red Angel of Preventing Harm - but it’s not every day he gets paid thanks when he saves someone. It’s also not every day he gets to save such a pretty woman, either. You, however, can’t just leave it at that. There must be some way in which you can properly thank him. Ulterior motives include getting to know this already loveable lug better but shh. It feels like the odds are finally turning in your favour and you won’t let this slip away from your grasp. That’s when it hits you.

Muttering under your breath, you erratically search through the confines of your little handbag. You are certain that you had one in here somewhere. In the spare pocket maybe? Ah! Found it. Fumbling to take the lid off of your pen, you hold out your hand, gesturing for his. He slowly complies, to which you jot down a series of digits on his palm accompanied by your name and a tiny 'x'. 

"Gimme a text sometime," is the last thing he hears before you disappear around a corner.

Oh? Oh. Ohhh. Wow. Getting your number is the last thing he expected. Did he get hit on the head during that scuffle or something? Was everything from the last few minutes a dream? He bores holes into the writing on his skin, scanning it over and over, scared that it’ll disappear if he so much as blinks. A dumb, wobbly smile not so gracefully decorates his lips as he trudges back to the turtle tank. He takes his seat but it’s obvious that he isn’t all there. Being so caught up in his rose-tinted bubble, he doesn’t register his brothers' voices. In an effort to gain his attention, Michelangelo jumps onto his shoulder, partly intrigued by what their leader is so absorbed by.

"Oh me gosh!” the young brother screams in shrill excitement, “Raph's in love!"

Careful not to smudge the neat ink, he’s quick to hide his hand against his chest. "That's crazy talk!”

Donatello sniffs the air and mockingly covers his nose. "The overwhelming manifestation of your nervous stink indicates otherwise, dear brother."

"I got a girl’s number!” he continues to defend, feeling his face go all kinds of red. “'Course, I'm nervous but that don’t mean I’m in love."

Lies and slander. It was practically love at first sight. He just doesn’t like the idea of his brothers knowing that. It’s easy pickings to be made fun of.

"Don't worry, Big Red. Lucky for you, you got a guy who knows all about the charm." Leonardo points both thumbs at himself as he falls back into his seat and props his legs up on the dashboard. "First, you just need to..."

The "helpful" advice drowns out as the large snapper opens and gazes at his palm again. He just can't comprehend how a gorgeous individual such as yourself could take one look at him and give him your number. It's puzzling but he supposes there’s a first for everything? That also doesn't mean he won't text you. The only thing getting in the way of that is fear. Raphael thinks he’d rather go toe-to-toe with that mutant dog again than have to face the risk of embarrassing himself. To anyone who knows him, it’s no surprise that he caves under pressure. No. He will do it! A chance like this is one in a million.

Oh boy. What could possibly go wrong?

[brainbright]

‘why do you read “various x reader stories?”’

first, i’m a narcissist and will not read it if it’s not about me

second, I love the feeling of people liking me

third, I was ignored as a child

[brainbright]

One Way | Mortimer Toynbee x reader

Certain events as of late have you at your wits end with the X-men and on a plan to disappear into the night. But not before one man in particular gets to say his peace.

Tag list for Toad works: @samatedeansbroccoli @smokeywhalee @greenheart99 @the-goon-tm @thlix @ohmygillygoshoppler @it-is-i-zim @tolovaj @toynbeees @toadsbitch @lostgirllulu @the-home-kvetch

tags: a little mystique slander ig? Idk tho, none really except that reader is gender neutral

Fump. Fump. Fump!

You slam down yet another fistful of clothes into your suitcase. With a frustrated huff you turn around to go get some more. A sliver of moonlight falls inside your bedroom window, just barely illuminating the hardwood floor.

A human being in the X mansion... What a joke.

You're only here as one of the professors past flings gone steady friend. You fell on some hard times when you first met. Out of work. Nearly out of a place to live... Poor old Chuck, brokenhearted and still too altruistic for his own good. He offered you a place to stay, here amongst his "X-Men", for the time being.

The roster has seen some additions over time, but that's not to say there aren't plenty of unfriendly faces still left.

Impossible to say what's gotten into her, but Mystique has been a thorn in your side these past weeks. She insists that a human has no place here among mutants. You have no powers to contribute to the team, and little to no skills to make up for it in other areas. Or at least, nothing that none of the others can do just as well.

It seems like such a little thing... Hardly worth any interest or worry. But it gets to you, you know? She's right, in a way. And that's the worst part, isn't it? It's awfully hard to disprove someone who's right.

You've been looking for work, but times are tough right now. It's not like you want to leech off of Charles' good will. In fact, you rather thought he liked having you around. Things were awkward at first, but you feel confident in saying you've both moved past that. It was just a thing, after all...

Besides, he's got his eyes all over Moira now, leaving you free and clear to live in peace.

Maybe you can't blame Raven. Charles is her brother, in a sense. Maybe she doesn't want you around making things uncomfortable for him. You both want to move on, right? So why hang around while he pursues another. Not to mention to keep you from distracting him from all his other endeavors.

She might have good reasons... But she doesn't have to be such a bitch about it.

But fine. She'll have her wish, ey? You throw the sheets back into place on your bed and force your meager suitcase shut. As the latches click in place, you stand there a moment, leaning heavily on your rigid arms.

Your head hangs low, whether in frustration or exhaustion, you're not sure. From the corner of your eye, you steal a glance out the window. It's pitch black out, with clear, cloudless skies. Even in all the darkness, you can see a mile out along the grounds. It's beautiful out there... And fucking terrifying, too.

A few hot tears threaten your water line. They only fall after you try to blink them away.

It's 2 am and you haven't a clue where the hell you'll go. Maybe a shelter. Maybe you'll sleep the rest of the night off in a park. Maybe you'll find your way into a library and get started looking for something that pays hourly instead of salary.

Fuck... You take a deep breath and turn your head to the ceiling. Damn, you don't want to go. One more steadying breath, and you clear your head. You've had so many good times here...

Watching the others train and learn. Making new friends. Learning new things yourself. New skills. New knowledge. About you. About mutants. About the world and its insane, ever changing state.

You can't say you always felt this way, but... It's rather exciting, watching mutants come into the world. They're just like you. Same wants. Same hurts. All that shit about replacing humanity is bullshit, you say. You've come to see them as special, fantastical even. And, if you dare to dream, you think maybe some of them even truly care for you too. You sigh, and snatch your suitcase by the handle. It's high time you le-

A shriek of surprise is quickly snuffed out on your lips as you face the doorway. If you were only a little more careless, you might've dropped your luggage too. Through the dimly lit room, you can only now make out the figure standing there. Mortimer Toynbee, better and perhaps almost exclusively, known by his codename, Toad.

It's a fitting moniker the X-Men came up with, you'll give them that. All green, warted, furrowed skin. Comically enlarged, round, gold and green flecked eyes. A broad, fat body, sticky fingers, a tongue the length of a fire hose... Believe it or not, the list of similarities still goes on from there.

He's dressed like you woke him up from sleep, a rumpled undershirt and fleecy, flannel pants in quite a similar state. Toad reels back a step, and makes to apologize. You beat him to it.

"Sorry...", You keep your voice low, "I didn't mean to yell"

"No no, don't be! I uh- Heh, should've knocked", he laughs nervously and gives a few quick and quiet taps of the knuckles against your doorframe. Just for good measure. You offer a polite huff of laughter, but regardless, an awkward silence falls between you.

Before any excuses can be made for your dubious late night ruckus... Toad's eyes shift to your furthest arm. Your body is angled strategically between him and your luggage as best as you can manage. It won't do much good, but it was worth a shot. You try to hide it a bit better, but it's already too late.

"So... You're really going then?"

You try not to meet his gaze. Those big, sad eyes looking at you pathetically. This was rather the one encounter you were hoping to avoid, honestly. Sure you were leaving behind plenty of friends as it is, but... You'd always had a soft spot for the amphibious Brit.

Simply put, you never felt like the others were all that decent to him. He's the butt of their jokes. The one always left holding the bag. He does the jobs no one else wants to. He keeps quiet, minds his business, and all he gets in return is more jokes and dismissals.

You understand just how badly he wants to fit in somewhere... But if you're honest, you always thought if anyone was going to leave first around here, it'd have been him.

"Yes, I am. I'm sorry, I didn't want t-", you sigh, "It doesn't matter. Just... don't try and stop me, alright?"

You start walking, only for Toad to speak up to stop you, "W-well hold on a moment... Where will you go?", he grates his knuckles against each other nervously, eyes just as guilt inducingly wet as before, "I'm sure if you wait until morning, the professor could at lea-"

"I can't wait that long Mort. And I don't want a hand out either. I'm sorry, but it's better if I just go quietly", face to face now, you step to the side on a path around him. Mort matches your sidestep to block you. His shoulders hunch and tense as he does so.

"Don't leave-"

His voice is quiet. Tiny. For as long as you've known him, you always thought Mort had a rather meek voice, especially for such a large man. But this... This is different. Begging. Desperate. Sorrowful.

Really, a striking contrast to the mousey, hushed tone you're used to getting from him.

Quickly, he supplements, "I-I know you said don't try and stop you, but... I- Please. Don't go", he swallows down a cup of emotions. If he hadn't, you wonder if all that water wouldn't begin to leak down from those eyes of his.

You breathe out a sympathetic sigh for your friend, and calmly place down the suitcase. Strange. You know you and he had become good friends over the months, but you never took him to be so sentimental.

"I'm sorry. Really, I am, but- Well, unfortunately I think you're just about the only one who wants that. Mystique wants me out, and none of the others seem all too worried about persuading me to stay, so", you try to keep your gaze soft, but... Just the thought of Raven is enough to stele you up again, "Besides, things are too much for me right now, especially with her. I mean, think about it... How do I even know that you're you?"

That makes you sneer.

"How do I know I'm not talking to Mystique right now? Here to get some sick kicks now that all your hard work has paid off? Well?"

Mort looks back at you with a panicked wandering in his eyes. The thoughts are turning a mile a minute back there, yet he has nothing to say. You give him a moment more, almost wishing he would come up with a reason- any reason, that would disprove your accusation.

Silence.

"... Exactly", without another word, you snatch up your things, and push past him. You appreciate the going away party, but the longer you stay-

"Do you remember-"

Before you can even cross the threshold... That heavily accented, endearing voice of his stops you in your tracks.

"Last... Tuesday, it was", his voice shakes uncertainly. Not for worry of misremembering the day, but rather, shot through with emotion. "I um, I was on cleaning duty. Moping the hallway, down by the entry? You had to get by on the wet floor, and you tried hopping and tiptoeing across? And I tried to tell you, you could walk normal like, so you didn't fall"

He looks away for just a moment, as the fond memory plays back in his mind, "And then, you did. Slip, that is. A-and I caught you and set you right with my, er... With my tongue. You were wearing a different lotion that day. It uh, tasted rather like candy?"

You turn around slowly, taking in the story as the shared memory comes over you as well, "Yes... I remember. I felt so bad about messing up your hard work... And then, embarrassed for falling after you warned me", you add with a quiet laugh.

"I also remember... We were the only ones there, and you promised you wouldn't tell anyone you saw that"

Morts eyes brighten ever so slightly, daring to hope that just maybe... "That's right", he gives several small, but fervent nods, "And I haven't! Just... By the way. So, there. It's me", he holds his hands up just a tad at either side, giving them a wave of pizzaz.

This time you meet his eyes, a sad smile taking over the angry scowl. But still... It's not enough to make you drop the luggage. Any victory he thought he'd won, is immediately thwarted with this new anxiety. Toad speaks up again, in the hopes to keep you from turning back, "Besides- I uh, heh. I rather think she'd prefer to make herself like anyone other than me", he closes the sentence with a half hearted laugh.

It's true. Even someone like Mystique likes to think she has "standards" of who she would and wouldn't shift to, with Toad himself being a very non hidden secret as one such individual.

You sigh at last, defeated again. "Why are you really here Mort? Did I wake you up, or-"

"I love you", He blurts it out so fast, it's as though it were a force he'd been holding in all this time. You think it must've been for sure, too. The man himself looks just as surprised to have said it as you are to hear it. Silence settles between you both, each trying to figure out what comes next.

Toad takes a shallow breath, croaking nervously. Your suitcase slams to the floor as you let it drop. Perhaps you had planned on something to say in response, but he cannot bear to guess at what those words might be. He's not used to talking much to anyone, the unpredictability he experiences from others only ever makes things worse.

He splays his palms out to steady you, hunching his shoulders in fear again, "I'm sorry, I- Maybe I shouldn't have said that, but I... Have... Feelings, for you, alright?"

His eyes dart to connect with yours, then look away just as quickly. The quick, excited anxiety behind his words from the first time slowly drain away, leaving him serious and sullen once more, "I get it though, really I do. I know that's not what you, or anyone, wants to hear from someone like...", he gestures vaguely to himself, from face to body, "...Me"

Truth be told, you'd always felt like your fondness for this man ran a little deeper than just that. At risk of controversy, you'd be lying if not to admit it was his looks that drew your interest. So strange and unique and yet beautifully fascinating, in his own way.

After that, it was easy to befriend him. He's easygoing and hardworking, a little down on himself at times, but not enough to taint his company. These are merely a few of all the details and highs and lows and little notes you have to say about him. The truth is, you could talk to and about him for hours.

"Look, I'm not saying all this to change your mind, or to have a go at you... I just-", he looks away with a troubled sigh. What's the use? "Nevermind... I've scared you off, haven't I?"

"...I wouldn't say that", you give a hint of a smile, feeling a little less rigid then before. If now's the time for confessions, then you might as well give yours too, "I like you too, Mort. It's just that-"

"Because I'm a mutant? It's alright, i-if it is, you know"

"No", you reach out to touch him. He always liked that grounding feeling. Such a shame that most others seem too afraid to even come close, "It's not that. I guess... I just never thought you felt that way. The way things are out there, between humans and mutants, I didn't think you'd-"

"Tsh", he scoffs, "I don't care about out there... Humans, mutants, seems like no one cares all that much for me. That's why I care so much about you", In the low, moonlit room he sees your hand angled out towards his. Your fingers brush against his hairless, bumpy forearm. Even that is enough to make his heart skip a beat.

He reaches up oh so slowly, as though any movement at all is likely to drive you off, and lets your fingers mesh between his, "I um- I don't expect that I'm enough to make you stay, but... If you did", he grips your hand a little tighter, daring to look you in the eyes, "Maybe we could figure things out together, eh? Mystique can't have that stick up her arse forever. We could... er, I suppose, maybe you could-"

You stop him there. A small step closer, a new, hopeful light in your eyes, "No, hold on there... I like the idea of 'we' there far more"

For the first time all night, Toad is left at a loss for words. Are you...? He huffs a nervous laugh, "Y-you do?"

"I do", you brace a hand on his chest and lean up for a quick kiss to his cheek. It's more then he'd ever dreamed of... His heart pounds strong and hard and teeming with excitement beneath your palm. When you come back down, you give chest a solid pat, "Tell you what... Help me unpack, and we'll talk more about this 'we' and Mystique tomorrow, alright?"

A brand new smile spreads across his face. Bright and beaming, even off his tiny teeth. On their own, they admittedly look a tad bizarre, but all together... You think they suit him handsomely. Already, he reaches for your suitcase to lend a hand, "Tell you what love... As long as we focus more on the 'we' part, it's a deal"

Well... Who would you be to break such a contract? You smile back at him, oh how long you've waited for a moment like this, "Then a deal it is"

[brainbright]

Hey sickly anon here. I feel like I should explain myself a little. I was really worked up last night and just kinda sent that ask without any context and I know it must look like a troll ask.

I get that there is a lot of content focusing on thin readers/women(I don't much like those either)

It's not really that I'm super bothered by protrayals of different weight, it was just the phrasing that hit a nerve last night I think. I got sick in highschool and soon legitimately looked like a gaunt skeleton(still do tbh :/)

So not the cute desirable version of thin. More of the "is she terminal? poor thing.." To this day I get people doing horrified double-takes at me because of how I look so I guess it's slowly made me ultra sensitive about it.

And last night I had a guy get in my face and legit SCREAM because I couldn't process his return since he didn't have a receipt. And then had to do basically 3 people's jobs because 2 different coworkers decided to go to the club last night instead of work. A typical day in retail I guess.

So I get home and go straight to your blog because its a big comfort for me and I just kinda crumpled being reminded of my mess of a body.

But it wasn't really your fault. Like when you have a REALLY bad day and one more barely noteworthy little thing goes wrong/feels bad (like you drop your spoon or something) and you just McFricken lose it and can't stop the tears.

That was me last night lol. A little embarrassing in retrospec after I slept it off. I hope you don't think I was attacking you personally or anything. I was overwhelmed and just felt hurt and had to express myself somehow (did a terrible job of it I know lol. I was flustered.)

TL;DR: had a really bad day at work, getting reminded of my health condition and appearance was the last tiny nudge I needed to become a crybaby, cried about it, went to sleep, woke up feeling better and a little embarrassed I let it bother me so much.

Anyways, shenanigans aside I hope you have a good weekend :)

Hey, thanks for coming back to clarify, I preciate it. It’s no big deal, this is all a bunch of fictional stuff on the internet after all.

I grew up with a mother with severe eating disorders that put her in the ER multiple times. The way she views being fat as the ugliest thing you can be to the point she would rather die than be that way has become my inner voice for a long while and I’ve only just started to deal with my own eating disorder. The Fulgrim chubby chaser thing was just a fun meme that I was encouraging because so much of reader insert stuff has the “thigh gaps and running fingers through your hair, tiny cocktail dresses and picking you up” and it’s fun to pretend that maybe someone might like the way I look XD

And just because I answer a few asks about chubby people, they all exist in their own universe and it’s not like that’s canon. I have plenty others that don’t mention anything at all.

[brainbright]

Kinktober 2024 Prompt List

Please feel free to share and use the list below. Or the header! This is only for anyone 18+ years of age, minors - please do not interact. Please feel free to tag me in any and all Kinktober stories that you post, I’m eager to read them. Have fun and have a wonderful Kinktober!

Handjobs // Temperature Play // Breast Worship

Piercing // Double Penetration // Voyeurism

Sixty-nine // Public Sex // Pet Play

Sensory Deprivation // Leather or Latex // Watersports

Rough Sex // Anal Beads // Bondage

A/B/O Heats or Ruts // Sadism-Masochism // Anonymous Sex

Bruising or Bitemarks // Virgin // Ice Play

Flogging // Swallowing // Cock Warming

Anal // Praise Kink // Food Play

Face Sitting // Lingerie // Overstimulation

Gags // Shaving // Knife Play 

Sex Toys // Dirty Talk // Breath Play

Pregnancy // Aftercare // Roleplay

Gangbang // Collaring // Candle - Wax Play

Hair Pulling // Glory Hole // Teasing

Nipple Play // Cock Worship // Lactation 

Squirting // Dom - Sub // Period Sex

Cockring or Plugs // Foot Fettish // Massaging

Suspension // Fisting // Mirror Sex

Infidelity - Cuckolding // Cunnilingus // Threesome

Gun Play // Monsterfucking // Shower - Bath Sex

Deepthroating // Thigh Riding or Fucking // Choking 

Licking // Degradation // Breeding 

Glove Kink // Masturbation //  Somnophilia

Pussy Slapping // Non Con - Dub Con // Titty Fucking

Pegging // Edgeplay // Seduction 

Lap Dances // Hate Fucking - Angry Sex // Breast Worship

Fucking Machine // Phone Sex // Impact Play

Branding // Hunter - Prey // Uniforms

Weight Gain // Object Insertion // Sex Pollen 

Free For All 

[brainbright]

How would TBB react to seeing the reader about to leave on a night out dressed up in a super hot outfit?

Gender-neutral reader, but feminine presenting. Words like 'beautiful' and 'pretty' are used!

Hunter - Even with half of his face tattooed, he still manages to blush through the thickness of the ink. - He's truly lost for words. - Hunter has an adorable stutter as he compliments, "wow, you look… nice- I mean, incredible. Good. Beautiful?" - Hunter then facepalms as he scolds himself for picking "nice" as his first compliment. Ugh, you look so much more than nice! - You'll both be giggling as Hunter takes a deep breath, and begins going into detail about how good you look, highlighting the specific parts that really stand out to him. - You're heading out with friends, but Hunter is quietly hinting that he wants to come along. Totally not because he's jealous or anything, but because he hopes to meet your friends, right? The friends that he's met several times before? Yeah! - Tell him that you'll still be looking this good when you come back home later tonight, and he'll get the hint. - However, he may need to leave a fresh mark or two on your neck, just to get the point across that you're taken.

Echo - This poor, poor man is going to turn the deepest shade of red when he finally sees you. - Why, just WHY did you have to wear that specific outfit that he loves so much?! And you're going out without him too?! Oh, what a tease! - Echo is lost for words as he gushes over you. He feels like it's his wedding day - How is he this lucky? How did he land an angel like you? - There's a tear in his eye as you smother him in kisses, reassuring him that you're all his, that you're the lucky one for being with him, that you can't wait to come home and snuggle up with him later. - Echo doesn't ask for much, but he would like to be kept in the loop on your whereabouts. Purely for your own safety! - "And when you reach the next bar, just comm me. Your friends have my comm number too, don't they? If anything goes wrong, and you want picking up-" blahblahblah. - One final smother in reassuring kisses, and you're good to hit the town!

Wrecker - His mouth instantly hangs open, his eyes turn wide, and his facial expression swiftly turns into a grin as he comments, "HOT!!" - You know in cartoons where the character's mouth drops open, and they begin howling and barking? Yeah, that's Wrecker. - Seriously, you look hot, and Wrecker's going to ensure that you know it. - "Look at you! I can't believe I got myself an angel as sweet as you!" - He'll mention how he's sad that he's not tagging along, but he'll assure you that it's important you spend your time with your friends. - Wrecker isn't as clingy as he seems. After all, he'll be right here, waiting for your return. - And when you do return, all your hangover needs will be met. A tall glass of water waiting for you, a midnight snack, breakfast in bed, and a big buff man to cuddle you back to health!

Tech - This will go one of two ways: - Option one: Tech eyes you up and down, and with a firm nod, he comments, "that is suitable attire for your evening. I hope you enjoy yourself." - Option two: Tech's brain short circuits. He can barely muster up a thought, let alone a comment. Radio silence, but his expression says it all. - Either way, Tech is more than impressed with your outfit choice, and how stunning you look. He just… struggles to find the words, like a deer in the headlights. - Give him a few moments, and you'll be met with suitable praise. "How exquisite you look, a truly elegant and radiant creature." - Tech can't pinpoint one specific word to describe how beautiful you look, so instead, he selects the most complex and in-depth ones. He doesn't want to rely on a 'standard compliment.' - A few kisses later, and you're off to meet your friends. All the while, Tech begins pacing around the Marauder like a lost puppy. He needs to keep himself occupied until you return!

Crosshair - He's instantly thirsty for you, smiling cheekily as he eyes you up, gawking at the sight of you. - Crosshair has a way with words, and spews out his praise, all whilst kneading at your waist, his hands trailing down to grab your ass whilst he steals a handful of kisses from you. - And then it dawns on him… - You're going out with your friends tonight, not him… - Jealousy swiftly takes over, and his compliment turn into teasing (yet petty) jabs. Nothing to hurt your feelings, though. - "Any reason why you're wearing this tonight? Do you need more attention? Am I not enough for you?" - Whilst his tone is teasing, there's a desperate need for validation. - Yes, he knows you'd never be stupid and hurt him, but… can you please remind him one more time? - Don't be surprised when you leave, and minutes later, Crosshair sends you a holotext. "Comm me if you need anything, Beautiful."

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I'm gonna ask for something I don't normally ask cuz I read them prompts and the idea struck me!

"the panic beforehand trying to decide if theyre leaning in to kiss or not" with Wrecker 👀

Idk man, sounded adorable and wanted to float it your way!

hello hello friend! apologies for taking so long on this; inspiration finally hit today while I was out shopping, so here ya go! <3 thanks for the lovely ask

Drinks and Decor

Summary: Wrecker finds a unique way to thank you.

Warnings: mostly fluff but this is an 18+ blog; bartender!reader trope, gn!reader, more fluff

Word Count: 1.1k

Bartending for Cid has its ups and downs, for sure, but one of the most consistent ups lately has been the group of mercs she hired earlier this year. Though the group of men and their little sister is often in and out of the bar without much time to really chat with them, on occasion they hang around. Maybe it’s Cid’s way of saying ‘thank you,’ or maybe they just get tired of wherever else it is that they go when they’re not on a mission and not at the bar, but either way, you’re not going to complain. 

Especially not today. Life Day. 

Cid had insisted that you help her decorate the bar for the holiday season (read: you decorated while she snarked out comments about things hanging crookedly). And you have to admit, you did a pretty karkin’ good job of it. Neatly cut paper snowflakes rotate lazily on their strings where they hang from the ceiling; garland of imported greenery and Mantell Mix arches in pretty curves under the front of the bar; and the usual neon currently suffuses the space with a gentle mix of red and green lights. Heady pine scents the air. Over the speakers, instead of the usual club music, gently holiday music croons.

You’re feeling pretty proud of yourself, and that feeling swells in your chest when the merc group has arrived. The girl, Omega, looks around at the decorations with a bright, beaming smile, her eyes dazzling in the twinkle lights you’ve strung around the edges of the tables. Around her, her brothers gaze around with varying levels of awe. Though you’re glad that they seem to enjoy your efforts, Wrecker is the only one whose reaction you truly care about. 

Face flushing with a pleasant warmth, you watch on in silent admiration as Wrecker turns a full circle taking in the new festive atmosphere. His jaw hangs open, a grin spreading over his scarred face. It’s only when he meets your gaze across the room that a similar jolt of joy sparks through you.

Instead of his usual armor, Wrecker, like the rest, has donned civilian clothing. Black-and-red plaid stretches over his broad, muscular form, the buttons straining at the front. Under the collar, plain white tee peeks out. Darkwash jeans encircle his thick thighs. In a word, he looks delectable.

And he’s walking toward you. 

Embarrassment at being caught staring claws up your insides, but Wrecker’s grin hasn’t faded. In fact, it’s only gotten bigger. And is that a blush you spy creeping over his face? 

“Did you do all this!?” he asks, voice entirely too loud for the space in his excitement. 

“More or less,” you say, shuffling your feet. “You like it?” 

“Cyar’ika, I love it!” He settles onto one of the barstools. “Got any festive drinks?” 

So he either didn’t notice you openly gawking, or he doesn’t mind. You’re not sure which option is worse. With a small shake of your head, you smile—not the falsely saccharine smile you usually reserve for customers, but a genuine, cheek-splitting beam that crinkles your eyes. 

“Sure do!” you say. “Any flavor preferences?” 

“Naw,” Wrecker says with a wave of his hand. “Surprise me!” 

“Alright, big guy.” You gather the liquor and a few new syrups and frozen fruits you’d convinced Cid to get for this holiday, and craft a drink for Wrecker that you’re sure he’ll love. In the months you’ve gotten to know the gentle giant, you’ve discovered that he, unsurprisingly, likes bold food: bright, citrusy colors with deep, rich notes. The drink you pour has all of it. 

Garnishing the drink with a sprig of mint, you slide the glass across the counter on a napkin. “Here ya go.” 

Wrecker eagerly scoops the glass up and takes an exploratory sip. You watch, chewing your lip, as his eyes slide shut, face twisting in an expression of bliss. Your heart skips a beat. 

“Cyar’ika,” he says, eyes fluttering open. “That was the best drink you’ve ever made.” 

A laugh bubbles up from your chest. “Why do I get the sense you’d say that no matter what I put in front of you?” 

“Because it’d always be true!” he says. “You’re a pro.” 

“Well,” you say, leaning your forearms on the bar, “in that case, I’m glad to put my expertise to good use.” 

He takes another sip of the drink, an appreciative hum sliding out of him and sending delightful shiver up your spine. “How much do I owe ya?” 

You’re grateful Cid disappeared to her office a while ago, because it means she’s not around to hear you say what you’re about to. “On the house.” 

Mismatched eyes widening, Wrecker gapes at you. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah.” You shrug. “It’s my Life Day gift to you.” 

“Aw,” Wrecker says. “Well, I can’t be the only one gettin’ a gift tonight. How can I thank you?” 

His voice has dropped a little in volume; his siblings sit across the room, well out of earshot (save Hunter), but when you catch the look in Wrecker’s eye, your mouth dries. He cocks his head at you, curious, testing. Stars, is he—? 

“I might have an idea,” you say, voice coming out hoarse. 

“Great!” Wrecker leans over the bar toward you. 

Almost of its own volition, your body responds in kind. You have to stand on your tiptoes, but you think you’ll be able to comfortably reach across to hug Wrecker. 

Except, Wrecker’s eyes are trained on your lips. Breath catching, you can’t stop what’s been put into motion—not that you want it to stop. It’s just—kriff, what if you’re misreading this entire situation and he really does intend to just hug you? You know he tends to be a little looser with his physical affection than his brothers, so maybe this is just an extension of that. He doesn’t feel the same way about you that you do about him.

Does he? 

You’re about to protest, and then his large, scarred hand slips across your cheek and tugs you the final few inches across the bar. His lips are warm and smooth against yours, moving gently, like he’s as nervous as you are. In your chest, your heart threatens to burst with affection. He’s so warm, and his hand is so big against your face; heat flickers to life in your core. 

All too soon, though, he pulls back. His eyes remain closed for a beat longer than yours, and a pleased, dopey smile curls over his face. 

“Is that ‘thank you’ enough?” he asks, breath fanning your face, smelling faintly of cranberry and mint. 

Eyes fluttering, you search his face for a moment before biting your lip. “I dunno. I did make the drink custom...” 

Wrecker beams and pulls you back in for a second kiss. 

Ragu List: @dystopicjumpsuit @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @wolffegirlsunite @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @sev-on-kamino @starrylothcat @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @mandos-mind-trick @idontgetanysleep @eyeluvmusic21 @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sleepycreativewriter @bobaprint @thorsterstrudle @droids-you-are-looking-for @goblininawig @cw80831 @dreamie411 @jedi-hawkins @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @9902sgirl

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How about how the bad batch boys (female reader) react to you giving them unexpected HUG? 🫂 because we all need a hug in our lives 😊 as fluffy as you can make it please! Congratulations on 4000 followers 😊

Unexpected First Hug

The Bad Batch X F!Reader

warnings: Mostly fluff, maybe a mention or two of reader feeling down/homesick. First hug with the Bad Batch. Some mutual pining if you squint. Female reader but can probably be read as GN too. Crosshair reunited with brothers. Not proofread.

authors note: thank you for the request! Enjoy some hugs 🫂

Echo 🤍

You missed him.

Actually, you found yourself missing him. deeply. But Echo's decision to go with Rex and Senator Chuchi had filled you with pride. However, as days turned into weeks, the void left by his absence grew more noticeable.

When you said your goodbyes, something felt incomplete. Perhaps words left unsaid or a simple handshake would have sufficed. But in the solitude of your bunk, thoughts of him kept creeping into your mind, and you couldn't help but picture him right beside you.

Then came the day when Echo surprised everyone by announcing his return to Pabu. Excitement surged through your stomach, eager to hear his tales and, most of all, to just be close to him again.

What neither of you expected, judging by the surprise on Echo's face, was when, as soon as he hopped off the gangplank, you raced over, outpacing even Omega and Hunter, and embraced him.

Your arms encircled his shoulders, your chest flushed against his, and Echo stammered your name in astonishment at the unexpected impact.

“H-Hello,” he appeared flustered by the emotion, and yet, the hug, something you'd never shared before, just felt so right.

“Hi, sorry I just,” you pulled away yet your arms lingered around his shoulders, “really missed you.”

You see his eyes widen ever so slightly and a shy smile etched on his face. “Oh, well, I missed you too.” He says softly, hands ever so gently placing onto your hips. “A lot.”

Hunter 🤍

“Hey, come with me.”

Hunter's voice pulled you from your thoughts as you observed Omega playing outside. You turned to face him on the gangplank, watching as he disappears inside.

You followed him back into the ship, a curious brow raised, inquiring about his intentions.

As you walked, you asked, "What do you want?" But Hunter remained tight-lipped until he stopped and faced you, arms folded. "What do you think?"

You stood before him, perplexed. "What do I think about what?"

"Your new helmet," he replied with a mischievous smirk, moving aside to reveal - of course - a brand new helmet.

For weeks, you'd been pestering Hunter for some equipment, just to enhance your safety and readiness on missions. His responses had usually been along the lines of 'maybe one day' or 'not right now,' which was understandable, given the constant struggle for credits.

Your excitement couldn't be contained as you exclaimed, "No way!" You eagerly picked up the helmet, admiring its design and paint job.

Hunter asked, "So, will that do?"

Instead of a simple "yes," you showed your gratitude by wrapping your arms around Hunter's waist, drawing him into an embrace.

Hunter felt his skin warm at the unexpected contact, and he awkwardly patted your back, his mind racing with thoughts of doing more, but uncertainty held him back. "I'll take that as a yes then," he chuckled softly, instantly missing the warmth of your touch as you pulled away.

In his own thoughts, he berated himself, thinking, "Idiot!" for not giving you a proper hug in return but seeing you ecstatic with your new gear was enough to satisfy him.

Wrecker 🤍

"Hey, are you comin'—what's wrong?"

Wrecker's voice broke through your thoughts at a vulnerable moment. You were overwhelmed with homesickness, and as you sought solace, Wrecker happened to discover you wiping away tears from your cheeks.

You put on a brave face, replying with a soft laugh, "Oh, nothing, don't worry. Just homesick." You felt grateful as he quietly took a seat beside you.

"Yeah, bet it's not easy being away from home when you're with us lot!" Wrecker said with a sheepish grin, but your smile didn't quite reach your eyes. Sensing your distress, Wrecker gently wrapped his arms around your shoulders, and despite your efforts to contain your emotions, tears began to flow.

Your lips quivered, and tears streamed down your cheeks. You turned into Wrecker, wrapped your arms around his neck, and pulled yourself close to him.

The contact initially stunned him, and he wore a shocked expression, but as he felt your tears on his neck and saw you burying your face, he sighed softly and embraced you just as wholeheartedly. His large hands gently rubbed your back, offering you the comfort you desperately needed.

Tech 🤍

"I believe I have something of yours," Tech announced as he walked into the cockpit, instantly piquing your curiosity. You couldn't quite recall giving him anything of yours, so you shot him a confused look. In response, he raised your datapad and playfully wiggled it in the air. "You should be careful where you leave things, especially during missions."

Your stomach plummeted, and your jaw dropped. You felt foolish for being so careless. Hunter had always stressed the importance of keeping your gear with you. The potential consequences of someone finding your device and tracking the others' locations weighed heavily on your mind. In a hushed tone, you asked, "Does Hunter know?" To your relief, Tech shook his head.

"I thought I'd do you the decency of giving you a warning. If it were Hunter who had discovered your oversight, the consequences would have been far more severe." Tech's reminder left you both relieved and also sincerely grateful for his discretion.

You stood up quickly, taking the device from Tech's grasp, and expressed your gratitude, saying, "Honestly, Tech, thank you. You didn't have to do that."

Tech remained nonchalant, replying, "I'm aware." But then, you took a step towards him. He watched you curiously, not used to being so close to you and especially as you gently wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled yourself into a hug, chin resting just in his shoulder.

He nearly dropped his own datapad at the unexpected physical contact, feeling his heart thump in his chest at the unfamiliar sensation. Tech had never been hugged before, and having someone he was growing fond of embrace him was certainly intriguing.

"Thanks again," you whisper softly in his ear before pulling away, leaving him in a state of surprise and curiosity.

Crosshair 🤍

You had been sitting there for a while, twiddling your thumbs and contemplating how to express your immense appreciation for Crosshair after the day's mission. He had saved you from a dangerous situation, and thanks to him, you were still alive and kicking. However, Crosshair was known for his intense and stoic demeanor, and you hadn't seen much gratitude directed his way since reuniting with his brothers and Omega. But, you wanted to change that. It was about time.

As you watched him at his makeshift shooting range, knocking down old canisters and bottles, you slowly made your way beside him.

"Don't say anything," he stated without even looking at you as you approached, causing you to pause with your words caught in your throat. You had anticipated this reaction from him, but you still felt the need to express your feelings.

"But—"

"Don't," he interrupted, lowering his rifle and glancing over his shoulder at you, his steely eyes piercing through you. "It was... nothing," he grumbled before turning his gaze away.

To him, maybe.

Disheartened, you turned to walk away, but an impulse tugged at you. You turned back to him and boldly wrapped your arms around him, pressing your cheek against his back.

Crosshair took a deep breath and stumbled slightly in his spot. But he didn't push you away. In fact, for a brief moment, he lowered his head and allowed the embrace. He hadn't felt this level of comfort in a long time. His rifle fell to the ground, and for a moment, he considered resting his hand on your arms, to touch you in return, but he resisted, not wanting to reveal his vulnerability at that moment.

"Alright, get off," he finally said after just a few seconds.

As you let go, he looked back at you however and there was just a faint hint of a smile. "You're welcome."

Masterlist

Tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @imalovernotahater @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @photogirl894 @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness 🧡🧡

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Jesse's Girl

Summary: You're his. He'll go to great lengths to prove it.

Pairing: Jesse x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Public sex, voyeurism, possessive Jesse, fingering, unprotected sex, cockwarming kind of, Jesse is a bit of a dom but not really, author is very sick so this is probably garbage

A/N: Unprompted Jesse filth thanks to my fever. It probably doesn't make any sense but it came to me in a fever dream (lol I'm not funny) and I had to write it. Please forgive me if this is utter nonsense

MASTERLIST

(Gif found on Google cause tumblr sucks)

As soon as he pulls you into his lap you know you’re in dangerous territory. 

Jesse wasn’t one to shy away from a challenge, and the shinies eyeing you from the bar were the next competitors. 

It started when you went to the bar to get the next round of shots. You had situated yourself right in the middle of a group of shinies without even thinking about it. You’d been immediately hit with the cheesy pickup lines and the eyes trailing your form in your tight fitting blue dress. You had politely brushed them off, only staying at the bar long enough to grab the tray of shots before returning to the table with your boys. 

You could feel their eyes the entire way back. 

The whistles hadn’t gone unnoticed when you’d bent down to place the tray on the table. 

As soon as you slid back into the booth, Jesse had pulled you into his lap instead of letting you settle into your spot next to him. You could practically feel the smirk against your ear as he rested his chin on your shoulder. Your eyes had gone back to the bar, to the group of shinies still eyeing you bravely. 

Jesse’s chuckle rumbles through your back, his hands splaying across your bare thighs. “What do you say, babe?” He whispers in your ear, his tongue darting out to lick at your skin, causing goosebumps to erupt across your entire body. “Why don’t we give them a show that’ll leave them jealous that they can only sit and watch.” 

You bite your lip, grins spreading around the table as Jesse rests his chin on your shoulder once more. You bite your lip as Jesse’s hands trail further up your thighs, spreading them over his own legs. Cool air hits the damp folds between your legs, your panties having somehow been forgotten in your rush to get to the bar. 

Jesse’s calloused fingers trail up your inner thighs, your hands curling around the half empty glass in front of you. You shift just slightly in his lap, feeling the hard bulge under your ass. 

One hand grips your thigh, keeping it draped over his as the other slips between your legs, trailing through your wet folds. Your lips part in a gasp as the rough pads of his fingers ghost over your clit. He leans further over your shoulder, pressing your lips together as he slips a finger into your pussy. He muffles the quiet whine that leaves your lips as he slips a second finger in, curling them to find that spot inside you. 

You jerk in his arms as he finds it, gasping into his mouth as he kisses you. He doesn’t try to hide his actions, nothing subtle about the way his arm moves. If anyone even glanced your way they would know what was happening. 

It’s a risk you’re willing to take. 

Jesse pulls his fingers from your pussy before you can cum, shifting you just enough so he can undo his pants. You lean forward on the table, making eye contact with the shinies at the bar, still gaping at you as the tip of Jesse’s cock prods your entrance. You sink back against him, taking him inside you. Your eyes roll back for effect, lips parting in a breathy moan as he fills you. His hands grip your hips, tugging you back against his chest. 

He presses his lips to yours once more, licking into your mouth as you sit on his cock. He twitches inside you as you squeeze around him, excited by the idea of being fucked in such a public place where anyone could see you. 

“Naughty little thing.” Jesse murmurs against your lips. “But kriff, it’s so hot.” 

You smirk, pressing another kiss to his lips before you lean forward once more, resting your elbows on the table. It pushes your cleavage out more, and you can see a couple of the shinies shift just slightly at the bar. You keep your gaze on them as you slowly begin to rock in Jesse’s lap. There’s no way they can’t tell what’s happening, not with the smirk you know Jesse is giving them. 

Your lips part in a silent moan as Jesse’s fingers slip around to your clit, making your hips jerk just slightly. He pulls his hand back before you can cum, tugging you back against his chest. 

He wraps his arms around your middle, breath fanning against your neck. “I’ll keep you here all night if I have to.” He murmurs in your ear. “Until they finally realize you’re mine.” 

You smirk, tightening around him, making him groan. “Think you can last that long?” 

He gives you a dark look, his smirk widening as his fingers trail down to your clit once more. “I’m not the one you should worry about.” 

Ragu list:

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @rain-on-kamino @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @freesia-writes @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @eris-k @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry @maddiedrmr @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @sinfulsalutations @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @lickylickylicky @sweetheartsnips

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If i may...

A migrane care fic would be nice. Wrecker using his inside voice and letting you sleep on his chest. Or maybe using his big hand as an eye mask bc you lost yours.

Totally NOT a fantasy of mine or anything 🫣

I loved this request! Whilst I've luckily never had a migraine, I've had friends suffering from them so I hope this lives up to expectations.

It's the first real thing I've written for the Bad Batch in a long while so I'm super, super nervous to post. I really hope it's okay!

Migraine Support (Wrecker x gn!Reader)

Summary: Wrecker comes to the rescue when you're having a migraine. Cute support is offered.

Warnings: None - this is pure Wrecker fluff

Word Count: 947 words

"HEY, babe! You missed one hell of a mission. I mean the whole thing was like... BOOM!" Wrecker's loud and energetic voice reverberated through the entire bunk room as he entered the space looking for you. But then he noticed you lying on the bed, blocking out the lights with your hand over your eyes. Your hand was rather unsuccessfully doing the job based on the pained expression on your face. You were having the worst migraine you'd have in a while. Every time you moved your hands from your eyes, the agonising flashes of light you saw and the worsened throbbing in your head were truly unbearable, and even with your eyes closed, you were still feeling nauseous and the pain in the your head was agonising.

"OW!" You winced and groaned in pain as his voice decimates your brain. "Inside voice, Wrecker. Inside voice." He all but yelps in dismay, albeit he tries to do so quietly as he sees you lying there; a truly sorry sight for his eyes. He takes the sight in. You lying on your side, facing away from him with you hand over your eyes, clearly trying to block out the fluorescent lights in the bunk room. He reckoned your little hands weren't doing much in the way of removing the light from your vision. He frowned at the sight. He really did hate seeing you in pain.

You then feel the weight of the bunk droop and a hand gently falls to your waist as he sits beside you. He lowers his voice to what can only be described as a Wrecker whisper. It's not quite a whisper but it's close enough to one, you supposed. "Is it one of your migraines, baby?"

You nod a little, wincing as this movement did your pain no favours, keeping your hand over your eyes. "Where's your eye mask babe?" You shrug, not having a single clue or care as to where you'd left it this time. You were pretty sure you'd left it on Ord Mantell, on your last visit. But to be fair, it could be in any star system you'd visited since Ord Mantell and wherever the hell you are now. Either way, the pain and confusion brought on the migraine was blocking any reasonable thoughts on the matter. You really did not care. He lowers his voice even further, "wait right here...I'll be right back." His voice is kindly getting quieter and quieter for your benefit. When the bunk bounces up slightly, you gather he must be walking away.

"Where the hell else am I gonna go?" You retort somewhat bitterly as the pain is putting you more than a little on edge. He chuckles a little at that, mumbling 'good point' as he heads out to speak to Tech in the cockpit.

"Hey Tech," he says, approaching him quickly, "do ya think you could cut the lights to the bunks for a bit? They're having one of them migraines and the lights in the bunk ain't helpin'." Tech sighs a little but agrees, resolving the matter quickly.

"The lighting systems to the bunk room are now off," Tech confirms in a rush as he quickly goes back to the previous maintenance work he was performing.

Wrecker thanks him and quickly returns to you, attempting to be as quiet as possible as he now enters the dark bunk room. He sits beside you on the bunk again, his weight drooping the bed a little again, making his return obvious. He carefully whispers, "does that help at all?" You nod only a little, learning from your previous mistake. But you were still too scared to take your hand away from your eyes, wishing to avoid any extra pain.

After a few moments of silence, he clambers over you carefully, lying on the inside of the bunk beside you. His arm adjusts you in a surprisingly delicate and careful manner. He guides your body towards him and you naturally cuddle into him, an instinct you'd developed over the course of your relationship. The arm closest to you, slips under your neck, your head now resting on it. His fingers gently stroke your hair. He is trying so hard to keep as quiet as he can; showing you affection through action instead of words that would clearly only make things worse. After all, his indoor voice was not that much quieter than his normal voice.

"Do you, maybe, wanna use my hand to cover your eyes?" He seems somewhat nervous and careful when asking this, wondering if that might be an incredibly weird thing to suggest. But when your hand slowly falls away from your closed eyes, he quickly replaces it with his much larger, coarse one. The sheer size of his hand covers most of your face, and it perfectly blocks out all remaining light. You sigh a little in relief. That was much, much better.

"Thank you, sweetie," you mumble quietly, burying yourself into him a little more with your hand now over his chest. "These stupid migraines," you complain, "I wish they'd just stop. I hate it." The statement was honeyed with desperation and distress in equal measure but Wrecker simply held you closer, his hand massaging your head gently, playing with your hair in intervals, just how he knew you liked it. "Did - did Tech cut the lighting systems off in here?" The sudden realisation that the darkness in the bunk room was a lot more potent than it had been just minutes earlier.

"Yeah," Wrecker whispers gently, his breath tickling your hair, "I reckun you needed a bit of a break from the lightin' in here. He'll turn it back on after your migraine goes away." Your heart could melt at the softness and thoughtfulness of this beautiful man whose hand covered your eyes. You knew Wrecker struggled with quietness, being such a fan of explosions and chaos. His love and enthusiasm towards the chaotic battles and loud music was unmatched by anyone.

Suddenly, you felt a soft, small plushie being placed between you. ‘Lula,’ you thought to yourself, and you smiled a little at that. You know how much he loves Lula, she was the answer to all his sadness, and he clearly hoped it would be the same for you.

After a little while, you finally managed to take a small nap, waking up hours later, feeling slightly better than before. Wrecker slept peacefully beside you. The hand that had been covering your face was now holding your much smaller hand over his chest. You smiled softly at the sight. His innocent face contented by his slumber. For now, you were happy to just lay there with him and Lula of course; your sweet and loving Wrecker, the cuddly, caring bear had made that migraine feel so much better.

[brainbright]

birthday revelations / crosshair x gn!reader

pairing: crosshair x gn!reader (no y/n). reader has a nickname.

description: crosshair discovers it's your birthday, and in an effort to try and understand birthdays, he gets you a gift.

word count: 3,793

warnings: none. crosshair ovethinks a lot

Another request! Maybe not technically a request, but @starrylothcat sent in an ask for an ask prompt and said it would be nice to see me write a fic where crosshair buys a gift for the reader for their birthday or christmas and it's been stuck in my head since! so here you go! i hope i did it justice!

also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated <3

Crosshair didn’t like crowds. He gritted his teeth as he walked alone through the market on Sorgan, sidestepping people as they entered his path. It was noisy, but that didn’t bother him so much. Vendors called out to passersby, promoting their various goods for purchase with enthusiasm. Voices chattered and laughed. The smell of food wafted through Crosshair’s nose and his stomach tightened with hunger. Rations were poor choices compared to the sizzling of flavourful meat on grills, but he didn’t have enough credits to buy himself something to eat.

He only had enough to buy something for you.

He had been helping Tech with cataloguing files when he saw one on their nat-born medic. You had joined Clone Force 99 just over half a standard cycle ago with your plucky yet kind attitude, falling into the group dynamic easier than Crosshair had thought. Sure, it had taken some adjustment for him and his brothers to become used to another presence they had not grown up with, but it was inevitable you would eventually find your place in the team. You were hardworking, strong and compassionate. You paid attention to each of his brothers, giving them your undivided focus during conversation and indulging them in questions about what they were doing or their chosen skill. He had watched you talk with Tech about data decryption, Wrecker about proton-based explosives, Hunter about tracking strategies, Echo about ARC trooper training, and of course, him about sharpshooting.

He recalled the way you sat next to him for the first time on his bunk during their time in Hyperspace. He had disassembled part of his Firepuncher rifle, readjusting the scope and the barrel after it had unexpectedly jammed on their previous mission. He’d been annoyed – his prized weapon never faltered, and he was trying to figure out why it had failed on him when the thin mattress dipped next to him, and you asked what he was doing. When he’d given a particularly surly response, you nodded and then just continued to watch him. His eyes had slid to you.

“Can I help you with anything else?” He hadn’t meant it to sound so icy, but he had been frustrated with this rifle, with himself.

“Can you…explain what you’re doing?” you had asked hopefully.

He had looked at you sceptically. “Why?”

You just shrugged. “It looks interesting.”

He had studied your expression, trying to discern if you were being genuine. But you were. You always were with things like this.

So, he explained what he was doing, answered your questions and by the time his weapon was fixed, he didn’t even really remember his initial annoyance. You had smiled at him, your mouth stretching in a way that made your eyes light up. He felt a little flicker of something in his stomach before it was promptly extinguished.

Since then, you have spent time with him like that more often. Not just when he was cleaning his rifle, but other things. Like throwing Lula back and forth across the bunks as you both talked, joking about things that happened on missions. Sharing looks over briefings. Stealing Wrecker’s snacks.

But his favourite time with you was drawing on your datapad and trying to guess what the other was drawing. He had learnt you liked to draw and enjoyed drawing out something other than a medical diagram. He felt a sense of pride in making you laugh so hard you cried with his silly caricatures during long hyperspace trips. Exaggerated doodles of his brothers, tookas and the like, a portrait of you with a funny expression. You liked to draw him with a smile too big for his face, chuckling as you drew and then collapsing into laughter when you showed him. It always made the thing in his stomach flicker.

He really liked having you around.

So, when he came across your file when helping Tech, he couldn’t help but open it. You had told them all any information they had asked for, and information they had not. There wasn’t really anything you kept secret. But when he saw your ID holo looking particularly embarrassing: with wide eyes and a half-formed expression – like you were taken off guard by the photo, the corner of his mouth twisted up in an impish smirk.

He had intended to tease you about it; set the holo to the show on every Marauder screen so it was everywhere.

He opened the file to take a copy of the holo when he spotted details about your age and date of birth.

He frowned at the date. “Tech, what is today’s galactic date?”

Tech looked up from his datapad, adjusting his goggles before rattling off the date. “Why?”

He said your name before telling him, “It’s their birthday tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Tech blinked.

Age and birthdays were almost foreign concepts to clones. With accelerated aging and growing in a capsule, they didn’t really matter to them. Awkward to calculate, they weren’t celebrated. Crosshair had no idea when he had been ‘birthed’ or decanted, and if the Kaminoans documented such dates, then it was classified information. He knew his chronological age, but his biological age was a little murky. He knew he was a “mature clone”, however with the accelerated aging, he didn’t know where exactly he stood. None of their brothers knew any of these details. It was normal for them.

He read the date and your age. What would it be like to be so sure of something like that? To be sure of the parts that made up who you were?

Crosshair cleared his throat and closed the file without even copying the ID holo. He frowned to himself. Maybe he should’ve asked you about it before, but birthdays weren’t a part of his world, so he hadn’t thought to. But they were important to nat-borns, weren’t they? At least that’s what they’d all been told during their training modules.

When he lay in his bunk that night, he circled his mind for all he knew about birthday traditions. Gatherings. Food. Gifts. Would you like all that? Did you like all that? You seemed like you would. He didn’t know if it was something he would enjoy if he had a birthday…it didn’t really seem like his thing, but maybe he would. He would never know. He thought that Wrecker might be the only one who would enjoy a birthday. Maybe Echo too if you did it right. Same with Hunter.

But you hadn’t said anything about your birthday.

He had tossed and turned. You were part of their squad. You cared. Listened. Laughed. Did you not feel you could share the date with them? He didn’t know, and a part of him felt a little hurt that you might not feel you could. Were you not friends? Crosshair didn’t have many friends, but he knew they were supposed to tell each other things.

He turned again, crossing his arms against his chest as he faced the wall. Why did he even care? If you didn’t want to tell him it was your birthday, fine. He wouldn’t mention it.

He squeezed his eyes shut before sitting up on his elbows and craned his head to see you sleeping in your bunk. Through the darkness, his enhanced eyes saw you curled in yourself, and your nose twitched as you breathed deep and evenly. Something in his chest pinched. He sighed before laying back down and pulling the thin blanket over his head.

Now, as he found himself in this market the next day, he wondered what he was even doing here.

Once they had landed on Sorgan, they completed their mission easily with no complications. But Crosshair was still distracted by your birthday. You hadn’t even said anything when everyone woke up this morning. Just acted like it was any other day. You had just smiled at him as you tucked into a ration bar, saying good morning before throwing one to him to eat.

It puzzled him.

When you all started walking back to the Marauder after the mission, Hunter could tell something was up with him, nudging his shoulder.

“You alright?”

Crosshair had scowled at his brother. “…Yes.”

“You look deep in thought,” Hunter pointed out, falling into step with him.

Crosshair broke his gaze and looked away, back towards where they came, to the village they had just liberated. The thought had barely formed before he said, “Do we have time before the next mission?”

Hunter’s surprise showed in his voice. “We have a couple of hours, why?”

“I’ll be back later,” Crosshair walked off in the direction of the village before Hunter could say anything. His long legs carried him to the marketplace, where he stood now amongst the bustling bodies.

He just couldn’t get your birthday out of his stupid head; that you hadn’t said anything because clones didn’t celebrate birthdays. Just because he didn’t understand them, doesn’t mean he couldn’t try…for you.

He started combing through the vendors, most of which were finishing up resetting their stands after they fled suddenly several days prior. He moved from stall to stall, gazing at the different items over people's heads. Kriff, what were you even supposed to buy people for birthdays? Something they needed? Something they wanted? It was all a little overwhelming. And Crosshair didn’t get overwhelmed.

“Looking for something in particular, my friend?”

Crosshair startled and looked up to see the vendor, a greying man with a wrinkled face, horns protruding from his forehead and curled up in an elegant spiral shape.

Crosshair frowned, clearing his throat. “It’s…my friend's birthday today.”

The man’s face lit up. “Wonderful! Birthdays are special.”

Crosshair’s mouth tightened as the man continued to speak. “What were you thinking of gifting them?”

The hairs on Crosshair’s neck stood up with nerves. “I…I don’t know.”

The man’s face lit up. “Perhaps I can help.”

The man then went through the different items at his stand. He held up scarves, strings of beads, and handmade pottery. Crosshair thought they were all nice enough, but he wasn’t swimming in credits. And none of the items really felt like you. The vendor was patient, more patient than he should’ve been. Either he really wanted to help or was desperate for a sale in a competitive marketplace.

After many minutes and many items, Crosshair felt himself gradually stiffening, becoming more and more on edge and uncomfortable. He felt so out of his depth. He was always so sure of everything, and trying to do this thing he had no experience in, made him more vulnerable than he had in a long time. It was not a feeling he felt comfortable with. Never had been.

And as much as he liked you, maybe this was all a stupid idea. You hadn’t mentioned your birthday for a reason. He shouldn’t bring it up. If he did, he’d have to explain how he found out…and he didn’t want to go through that awkwardness. He was about to open his mouth and tell the over-enthusiastic vendor: thank you, but he wouldn’t bother with a gift, when the vendor clapped his hands loudly, making Crosshair jump.

“I may have something back here, hold on,” he said as he turned away to rifle noisily through a crate behind him.

Crosshair felt his fist curl at his sides, and this should’ve been his opening to slide away unnoticed until he looked down and saw a brown leather book. Crosshair halted and lifted a gloved hand to the soft worn cover, running his fingers over the engravings in the bound leather. He opened the cover, seeing it was a blank notebook, and it had a writing implement tucked into the spine. Not many people recorded things the traditional way anymore; datapads were much more efficient and stored more information than the pages of a notebook. He flicked through the pages, fanning them with his thumb. The dust drifted up and it was a smell he didn’t recognise, but he supposed it was the smell of paper.

“That’s a good choice.”

Crosshair retracted his hand as if he was a cadet being scolded, and looked up at the vendor, who held an oversized pot that would break the second it came aboard the Marauder.

“That would be a perfect gift,” the vendor continued, nodding at the notebook.

Crosshair looked at him before picking up the notebook – more surely this time, and turned it over in his hands. He imagined you in your bunk, scribbling in it at night with a torch in one hand. He imagined you keeping it under your pillow for safekeeping. He imagined you doodling in it, showing him your drawings with that smile on your face. He imagined drawing in it with you. The corner of his mouth twitched upward.

“How much?” Crosshair asked.

“It’s yours.”

Crosshair’s head snapped towards the vendor. “What?”

The vendor waved him away. “Take it.”

Crosshair blinked, confused. “…I have to pay you.”

“No, you don’t. I’ve been trying to sell that for years. You’d be doing me a favour.”

Crosshair furrowed his brow. “…Isn’t the customer supposed to be right?”

The vendor barked out a laugh. “Not this time, my friend.”

Crosshair dug into his pocket anyway and pulled out half the credits. “For your patience…at least.”

The vendor chuckled and took them. “Thank you. I hope your friend likes it.”

Crosshair didn’t respond as the man turned away, placing the pot down before calling out to other marketgoers, trying to entice them.

Crosshair walked back through the market, the notebook feeling heavy in his hand. Leaving the village, he made his way back to the Marauder, thoughts swimming in his head.

Kriff, what if you hated it? Or thought it was stupid? What if all his knowledge on birthdays was completely inaccurate and you would think him strange for giving you something? Or what if you just thought he was weird for getting you something at all?

Crosshair’s grip on the notebook tightened. He just wanted to do something nice. Like you always did for them. But this is why he avoided it. It was so vulnerable being nice. Being nice left you open for hurt, open for aching. It was much easier to keep it at bay, to restrict it. To hide it behind actions inconspicuously where it wasn’t out in the open. Being so open with it for you…he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it scared him. The doubt crept in. Crosshair had conviction and confidence, and he wasn’t used to it wavering like this.

He was just about ready to throw the notebook into a bush and never speak of it again when he heard your voice ring out from the steps of the Marauder.

“Crosshair!”

You placed your datapad down and ran over to him. He hid the notebook behind his back with both hands, gripping it so hard he knew his knuckles would be white as you approached him with a smile.

“Hey,” he said, hoping he sounded normal.

“Where’d you go? You disappeared after the mission.”

“I was just…looking for something,” he said carefully. Dank farrik, how was he supposed to do this? He thought he might just leave it on your bunk when you were distracted with a little note written inside the cover saying, ‘Happy Birthday’. That way he could avoid your reaction when you saw it. He didn’t even know how to get into the Marauder with it now that you were here in front of him.

You tilted your head with a quizzical smile. “Looking for something?”

Crosshair nodded. “I couldn’t find it,” he lied.

“Oh…okay,” you looked at him weirdly. Would you look at him like that when you saw his gift?

Crosshair nodded to the Marauder, desperate to get on board and stow the notebook away until he could leave it on your bunk. “Should we go inside?”

You looked at him, narrowing your eyes. “What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything, meshurok,” he lied, his grip tightening again.

“Yes, you are,” you sidestepped him to look behind him and he leapt out of the way. You grinned. “You are! What are you hiding, Cross? Why can’t I see?” you tried to chase him around, but Crosshair kept angling himself away. Kriff, he had never felt so stupid in his whole life.

“It’s nothing. Get your meddling hands away from me, you di’kut,” he walked backwards in a circle, his face and neck hot.

“Crosshair,” you chided, smiling at him. “Come on, is it really that bad?”

“Go away,” he grumbled, hands aching from holding the damned notebook so tight.

“Crosshair,” you said his name again, and your face was stretched in that playful grin that he’d unwillingly memorised. That thing in his stomach flickered again.

Then he remembered how you didn’t tell him about your birthday. And how you were friends, but you didn’t say anything about it. And how he had this unexplainable feeling he couldn’t name sitting in his stomach that compelled him to go to a village market and pick out a stupid gift for a birthday tradition he didn’t even understand just to do something nice for you the way you did for him and his brothers.

Crosshair’s expression flared and he shoved the notebook at your chest. You startled at your hand came up to grab it, sliding against his like a searing snake. He pulled his hand back and balled both at his sides as he gritted out, “Happy birthday.”

All he saw was your eyes were wide before he stalked off, almost stomping his way to the Marauder. His face burned, and embarrassment flooded his body. He felt so stupid, and he hated feeling stupid. He hated the feeling of being on the end of someone’s judgement. He hated knowing that he’d just been forced to make himself vulnerable. But mostly, he hated the feeling of you not trusting him with what was supposed to be the important parts of you.

“Crosshair!”

Your voice came from behind him, but he didn’t turn around. He was already planning different ways he could avoid you. He was going to lock himself in the ‘fresher until the next mission and make sure Hunter placed him on watch at opposite times to you. Whatever it took. His heart panged. You were one of the only people outside his brothers he liked. He would mourn the shared jokes and laughter, and time spent with you, knowing it couldn’t happen anymore.

“Crosshair, wait.”

He felt a hand on his arm pull him back. He swayed backwards, but he let you stop him. He avoided your gaze, scowl burning an outline in his brow as he stared off into the middle distance. Your hand stayed on his arm, and he felt it through the plastoid wrapped around his forearm, squeezing him there. It felt like part of him, and that made him feel both warm with content and spiked with anger simultaneously.

“Cross, please look at me,” your voice said quietly, and his heart squeezed. He slowly moved his gaze, looking down, then sliding his eyes to your bare hand on his arm before they lifted to your face. Your brows were slanted downwards, looking at him with such softness in your eyes he felt the flickering in his chest again.

“How did you…” your voice was soft and trailed off, notebook in your other hand.

“It doesn’t matter,” he dismissed with gritted words.

He felt your hand flex with your grip. “It does to me.”

He studied your face carefully before saying, “…I was helping Tech with cataloguing his files. I saw your birthday in yours.”

You continued looking at him with an indecipherable gaze and moved your hand slowly from his arm to his wrist, your bare fingertips brushing his gloves. You gently grazed his fingers as you let his hand drop softly. He watched you as you inspected the book, hands turning it over, fanning through the pages. He studied your expression, trying to discern what you thought, feeling anxiety grow in his stomach, his throat tightening. He felt something hot poke inside him as he watched your mouth turn up into a smile as you gazed at his gift.

“I’ve been so busy this year that I forgot about my birthday.”

Crosshair hoped he hid his surprise. You not telling him about your birthday…it was never about him. Of course, you had forgotten. The past six cycles had been a whirlwind for you trying to adjust to a soldier’s lifestyle, countless missions and trying to fit in with his brothers. His face burned again. He was a fool.

You looked up at him, a smirk itching the corners of your mouth. “Been too busy keeping you boys in line.”

Crosshair scoffed lightly, letting a puff of breath out of his nose. Your smile widened.

“This is a beautiful gift, Cross. Thank you for getting it for me,” you place your hand on his arm again, squeezing gently to show your appreciation He felt his heart lift and his cheeks redden, but this time, not in embarrassment.

He nodded at you. “I’m…glad you like it. I don’t have much experience with birthdays.”

Your smile touched the edges of your eyes. “That’s what makes it even more special.”

You reached up on your tip toes and wrapped your arms around his neck, embracing him. Crosshair stiffened in shock and surprise before he slowly wrapped his arms around your torso. His fingers grazed your sides, and there was something wildly comforting about holding you like this. He could feel the side of your face pressed into his neck, just below his ear, and your breath tickled the sliver of open skin not covered by his blacks. You were so warm. He felt you squeeze him gently and he didn’t stop himself from squeezing back.

You were his best friend, after all.

You pulled away, but not before you cupped his face and placed a kiss on his cheek. Crosshair flinched and his eyes widened as you lowered yourself back down on flat feet with one of the most joyful smiles he’d ever seen gracing your face. The action had surprised him more than anything else had.

“I’m going to show everyone what you got me,” you said before running off towards the Marauder.

“No, don’t, they’ll—” Crosshair started but you were already halfway up the gangplank. His brothers’ teasing was going to be ruthless.

He sighed, shaking his head before following you, that thing flickering in his chest. He didn’t understand it, but he didn’t try to extinguish it.

banner art by @vimse

mando'a / meshurok = gemstone thank you for reading! i did find this one slightly challenging bc it's very much crosshair in his head and i tried to write him how i thought he would react to a situation like this, but if it's a little OOC, i apologise! but i think he would react like this if someone he cared about didn't tell him something important about them; someone who was his friend and who he liked very much. i think he'd be kinda mad and hurt but he cares too much to not do anything at all. i have more gen requests on the way, so stay tuned if you're interested! <3

tags @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @bobaprint @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @snarky-mans-gf @chopper-base @wenalena @shredderwest @leavingkamino @rexamongthestars @r2d2staser @bluebird-dreams @pb-jellybeans @a-streakofblue @theawkwardartist12 @mylifeisactuallyamess @padawancat97 @littlecrowtime @jedipoodoo

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