#i haven’t written them younger like this in a bit so this was fun

[skyward-floored]

Since you're still doing requests, I would like to ask for more Hyrule and/or Four. Maybe Four could help him with his homework or something?

Here is more Hyrule and Four (and some Legend too). Hope you enjoy! And thanks for the patience XD

————————————————————

“...And then a monster rose up from the water, with lots of ten... tenti... ten... tenicles..? ...Legend?”

“Tentacles.”

“Right, tentacles. Ten-ta-cles, that tried to grab the hero. But with one swing of his sword, the hero sliced... is that how you say it?”

“It’s an ‘eye’ sound actually, but you were close.”

“Oh. So... the hero sliced the ten-ta-cles away, and the monster couldn’t catch him, no matter how hard he tried. A long battle en... ensued, all while the waves roared, and rain poun-ded on the ship. But the hero rid the beast of all his tentacles, and it fell into the sea with a dying roar. The hero had slain the monster, and... finally earned the treasure hidden in the ship.”

Hyrule closed the book with a proud look on his face, having reached the end of the chapter, and Legend grinned over at him from his spot on the floor.

“Nice job Roolie, you barely stopped,” he complimented, and the tip of Hyrule’s ears turned pink.

“I’ve been practicing,” he said shyly, and set the book he’d been reading from on the table. “Thanks for helping, Legend.”

“No problem.”

Hyrule smiled again, and flopped back on his bed, a warm feeling in his middle. He was getting really good at reading— he’d practically caught up to Wild’s level, and kept making progress, especially with Legend’s help. Soon enough he’d be able to read books without needing anyone to help with the big words.

It felt... nice. To learn.

The bedroom door creaked, and Hyrule and Legend looked up, their littlest brother padding in with a blanket trailing behind him.

“Four? I thought you were supposed to be napping,” Legend scolded, and Four blinked, then walked by without sparing him a glance. “Ugh. Moooommm, Four escaped his nap again,” Legend called, getting to his feet and walking out into the hallway.

He continued to talk as he walked away, voice fading down the hallway, and Hyrule peered over at Four, the younger boy watching him in silence.

Hyrule swallowed at his intense gaze. He didn’t really have a lot of experience with little kids like Four, and was still getting used to the whole little brother thing.

Four was nice of course, but he was also kind of... strange. He didn’t talk much, but when he did he was weirdly well-spoken for a four-year-old, and Hyrule often found him sitting in odd places with an ear pressed to the wall. Between that and adjusting to just having younger siblings in general, Hyrule honestly didn’t know how to interact with him most of the time.

And now he was staring. At him.

Four, oblivious of Hyrule’s thoughts, stared at him another few moments, then went over to his bed and tried to climb up onto it. His legs were too short though, and he frowned, trying to claw his way up the blanket Malon had made for Hyrule.

“Hey, hey careful!” Hyrule said, and Four stopped and looked at him, tilting his head.

“Sorry,” Four said. He looked at the bed, then blinked at Hyrule hopefully. “Can you help?”

Hyrule blinked back, then after a moment’s hesitation, slowly leaned over and picked Four up. He gingerly set him on the bed, and Four smiled as he sat down, stretching out his legs and wiggling his toes.

“Thank you,” Four said, hugging his blanket to his chest.

Hyrule nodded, settling back down in his spot, and watched him in confusion as he sat there, looking idly at the patterns on Hyrule’s blanket.

“Um... Four, I thought you were supposed to be in your bed napping?” Hyrule said hesitantly. He wasn’t sure what to do here.

Four frowned, and turned his head away to look at the wall. He didn’t say anything for a minute, then suddenly flopped backwards, his head landing on Hyrule’s lap and making him jump.

Hyrule looked down at him, and Four looked up, a sad expression forming on his face.

“...I got lonely,” he said quietly.

“Oh.”

Hyrule could relate to that. He’d spent most of his life feeling lonely.

Four curled up more with his head still in Hyrule’s lap, and Hyrule gave it a hesitant pat, Four snuggling up to him. His little brother was a ball of heat, and Hyrule began to relax as Four’s eyes drooped, running another hand over his head.

“Well... you can stay here I guess,” Hyrule said quietly, and Four smiled as he closed his eyes. “So long as Mom says it’s okay. Then you won’t be lonely.”

“Thank you Roolie,” Four whispered, and Hyrule felt a weird lurch of warmth in his stomach at the words.

He grabbed the blanket and set it more over Four as his little brother began to drift off, and Hyrule leaned back, watching as Four quickly fell asleep.

He supposed he would sit here and read for a while longer.

Legend came stomping back into the room a few minutes later, and Hyrule frantically shushed him when he opened his mouth, gesturing to the sleeping kid on his lap.

“...oh. Well I guess napping there is as good as anywhere else,” Legend said with shrug. “Good job Hyrule.”

Hyrule nodded, and Legend left again to tell their mom he’d found where Four went off to. He paused before he left the room though, and looked back at Four and Hyrule, the latter smiling hesitantly at the kid in his lap.

Legend smiled himself, then quietly shut the door behind him.

[atlabeth]

too sweet

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: a night out makes hotch realize a few too many things.

a/n: me??? writing for criminal minds again out of nowhere??? what is going on. and i do not have an answer i was just in a hotch mood bc he's fine asf and i finally have the confidence to write for him here we are lol. hope u enjoy this short lil thing

wc: 2.4k

warning(s): alcohol consumption, a sexual joke or two, written in one go so might be a mess! aaron is all in his head but this is basically all fluff

Hotch can’t focus. 

Mostly because he can’t stop glancing over at you. Normally it’s not a problem—he’d lost count of how many times he’d distracted himself from mounds of paperwork by meeting your eyes through his office window, often accompanied by a smile that made even his heart beat a little faster—and especially now, it shouldn’t be a problem. 

You and Derek have had some kind of bet going on during the past few nights out—you didn’t believe he was as charming and suave as he claimed, and Morgan was all too happy to prove you wrong.

You bet that he couldn’t get at least five numbers every night, and come last Thursday, Morgan took the win at the end of the evening with a smile on his face. As punishment, the first round of their next night out was on you. 

And that’s nice, sure. Hotch is always thankful that his team can still joke around and have fun with each other despite everything they have to deal with each day. He hopes they keep the light in their eyes as long as possible, especially the younger ones. He’s fine with being the stick in the mud, the one who never smiles, the iron willed chief that scares local uniforms.

Hotch is not so fine with the way he feels right now. 

It’s a busy night at the bar, which is understandable. Hotch is sure half the precinct is out alongside them, celebrating the BAU finally solving the case that had torn them to shreds over the past week. You, Reid, and Garcia put the threads together an hour into scouring through evidence, and the unsub was cuffed before noon. 

Certainly something to celebrate—there’s a reason the whole team agreed to go out tonight and leave tomorrow. Even Rossi decided to join when he learned you would be buying, but he’s already abandoned them in favor of catching up with some old friends. Hotch even thinks they might have another round in their future because of their solve, courtesy of the local chief. They had a long night ahead of them. 

But you haven’t gotten the drinks yet, and Hotch wonders how long it’ll take even after you do. Because some officer is trying to talk you up, and you’re smiling and laughing along and giving him every bit of your attention. 

Hotch recognized him the moment he set eyes upon him, even in plain clothes. He’s some joke of an officer from the station, and he’s been trying to get your number—or even just get your attention—throughout their whole visit. Always sidling up to you during debriefs, specifically giving you any information or evidence he finds—Hotch has overheard him asking for your number more than once. 

Hotch has been so focused on the case he’s not even sure if you’ve rejected him or not, and the mere thought is enough to annoy him. If he wasn’t equally as sure of your ability to defend yourself and afraid of overstepping with you, he would have stepped in. 

But it makes sense. The officer is young and handsome, you’re young and pretty—not to mention you have a way of lighting up any room you step into. Hotch spent the whole first month of your employment wondering why you would want to do a job like this. He’s spent the rest of it thankful that you did. 

You’re sharp as a whip, naturally, but you’ve also done wonders for the team atmosphere. It’s hard to feel down with a smile like yours beaming his way. The job weighs you down like it does everyone, but you still manage to lift everyone’s spirits on the jet ride back before they jump into the next case. It’s impressive. 

It’s also trouble. You’ve been part of the BAU for almost two years now, and Hotch has spent just as much time tearing his eyes away from you as he has working. It’s wrong, and it’s wholly inappropriate in terms of your working relationship—he’s your boss, for god’s sake. 

But sometimes, Hotch will be beating himself up over one thing or another on a case, and you’ll plant yourself in his vicinity and refuse to leave until you’ve helped him work through it. If you ever tire of the FBI, he thinks you have a second calling as an elementary school teacher. 

Sometimes the hotel they’re staying at will have truly shitty coffee, worse than they’re used to at the BAU, and you’ll already be in the lobby with a tray full of the team’s orders. Hotch never recalls telling you his order—you just figured it out, and you remembered it. 

Sometimes his gaze will drift your way, and he’ll find you already staring at him. You look away just as quickly as he does, and it makes him wonder. 

Hotch has made a living off of studying the behavior of others. More often than not, he finds himself profiling his co-workers just out of instinct. His job is to know what others are thinking. 

But god. When it comes to you, Hotch doesn’t think he’s ever felt more unsure in his life. Especially when you look at him the same way he wants to for weeks, then act nothing but proper another day; when you fall asleep against his shoulder on the jet one night and entertain some desk jockey another night. 

It makes him feel like a highschooler again, trying to figure out if Haley really liked him or if she was just playing around, and it’s more embarrassing than it should be. Especially when he’s still dealing with the lingering emotions from the divorce. 

“Hotch.” JJ’s voice is enough to break him out of his trance, and he blinks as he turns to her. At least someone paid him the mercy to dispel his thoughts, even if only for a temporary time. 

“What?” 

“Did you hear a single word I said?” she asks, a slight smile curving on her lips. 

“Of course,” he responds. “The chief’s over there talking with the commissioner. He’s the same guy who made your life difficult the last time we were in Milwaukee.” 

JJ’s eyebrows shoot up, and she nods. “I didn’t think you were listening.” 

“I think he just got lucky,” Morgan cuts in, his gaze darting over to you momentarily. “I think you were too focused on our drinks.” 

Reid frowns. “I don’t think he was focused on the drinks. He’s—” 

“Just making sure they’re still coming,” Hotch interrupts, and he straightens his tie. Today really has been a long one—usually, he’s better at covering these things up. “And I wasn’t lucky. I was listening.” 

“Trust me,” Morgan says with a laugh, “I’m watchin’ her until I’ve got a glass in my hand. She’s not getting out of this after the way she bragged this whole month.” 

“The stupidest thing to make a bet on,” Prentiss remarks, “especially with you.” 

“She said she just wanted to prove you wrong,” Reid contributes. “She thinks you’re too cocky.” 

Morgan grins. “It’s not cocky if you can back it up.” 

Hotch’s attention goes back to you, and you’ve finally gotten their drinks. You’re loading them onto a tray like you’re the bartender yourself, and his brows crease. Maybe he should have gone up with you. 

“Do you think she needs help?” he asks. How obvious is too obvious? Why does it feel like his brain only works at half power whenever it comes to you? 

“She’ll be fine,” Prentiss says. “And if she needs it, that guy talking her up can help.” 

“Jason Rodriguez,” Reid remarks. “He hung around her the whole time we were trying to pinpoint a location, and he wasn’t any help, which makes sense because he's practically desk-bound at the precinct. I’m surprised she got any work done.” 

JJ chuckles. “I’m surprised he hasn’t given up yet. He’s been following her around all week, like some lost puppy.” 

Morgan shrugs. “I dunno. She seems pretty into him.” 

“I don’t think ex-frat boys are her type,” Prentiss says wryly. Hotch doesn’t think so either, but he doesn’t say anything. Contributing to this kind of conversation is certainly too obvious.  

“I doubt we’ll be back here for a while. She might as well.” Morgan smiled. “She probably needs a win after such an embarrassing loss.” 

Thankfully, before Hotch has to keep pretending not to care about this topic, you walk over carrying a tray of cocktails—and you’re alone. The subject of their previous conversation seems lost in the crowd, and he feels a dangerous amount of relief. 

“Are you all talking about me?” you drawl. 

“You know we are, sweetheart. Thought you were never gonna get here.” Morgan sits up, smiling at you. “What’d my win get us?” 

“Long Island Iced Teas,” you muse as you set the tray down. “Enjoy it, because I’m gonna be working some overtime to make up for all these.” 

Morgan grins as he takes his drink. “You should’ve never doubted my skills.” 

“I’m surprised you didn’t need any help,” Prentiss says. “You’ve done this before, huh?” 

“Bartended my way through college.” You slide into the booth next to Hotch, just a bit too close for a bit too long, and he hopes that no one can see his chest still for a moment. It’s impressive that he still hasn’t figured out how to lessen the effect you have on him. “I’ve probably got better hands than you, Morgan.” 

“Do we need to make another bet?” he asks. “Because I’d love to clean out your wallet.” 

“Maybe wait another month before you prey on any more poor, defenseless agents,” you croon, and Morgan laughs. 

He pivots the conversation away from you when you pick up your drink and take a sip, and you look at Hotch. Whenever your gaze is on him, you make him feel like he’s the only person in the room. He’s sure you never look at anyone else that way, but Hotch wonders how much of that is his mind trying to justify his imagination. 

“I’m surprised you agreed with this,” you say, mercifully interrupting his thoughts. “I thought you’d want us to go back tonight.” 

“You all earned a night out after the work you did,” Hotch says. He thinks about taking a drink, but he decides against it, at least for now. He can barely trust his sober mind. 

“You’ve earned it too,” you say. “We wouldn’t be anywhere without you, Hotch. You keep us all together.” 

He shakes his head. “I don’t think I ever would’ve connected the dots like you and Reid can with Garcia. I hate unsubs with secret codes.” 

“I’ve always liked puzzles,” you muse. “There’s nothin’ like it when it all finally clicks.” 

Hotch hums, and for a moment, he’s silent. Your gaze remains fully on him, and that might be why he has trouble thinking. It’s too easy to get lost in your eyes. 

“What did that guy say?” Hotch finally manages to ask, because he honestly can’t help it. Morgan’s points actually worried him a bit, and he wonders what that says about him. Ex-frat boy certainly isn’t your type, but someone forgettable for a one night stand isn’t the most absurd thing in the world. 

Your brows knit together as you drink some more. “What guy?”

“The officer you were talking with,” he says. “He seemed to like you.” 

He’d been flirting with you since the moment you stepped into the precinct, actually, desperate for your attention, but Hotch didn’t really want to say that. He’s sure you noticed either way, if the rest of the team did. 

“Oh. Him.” You shrug. “He’s nice, I guess. Definitely a looker. But he’s got nothing beneath that hair.” 

“Morgan’s surprised you didn’t bring him back,” Hotch says. He wonders if he’s pushing too much, and again, he feels like a highschooler testing the waters. Do you know what you do to him? What you reduce him to? 

You shrug as you take a sip. “If he knows what’s good for him, he knows he doesn’t have a chance. My attention’s on someone else.” 

Prentiss calls your name and you get drawn back into the middle of the team’s conversation, and thankfully, Hotch has a chance to digest your words—and the stunner of a smile you flash at him before you get pulled into their talk. 

His decision to not drink seems even wiser, now. Hotch has to loosen his tie, and he ignores Reid watching him. It’s futile trying to hide anything from Spencer Reid—the kid already knows everything. 

Again, it's dangerous how much satisfaction he gets from it—from knowing you never really paid that officer a second thought. You didn’t smile at him the way you smile at Hotch. You don’t smile at anyone the way you smile at Hotch. He thought he was imagining it at first, or that he was just a bit too stuck up, but it was the honest truth. You paid him special attention, and he couldn’t blame the warmth in his chest from the thought on any alcohol. 

He tunes back into the conversation just to hear Morgan demand you pay for his next drink. 

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” you say. 

He puts a hand to his chest. “Generous? You’re just paying what you owe me.” 

You laugh and shake your head. “Pick your poison, pretty boy.” 

“How do you feel about tequila?” 

You make a noise of disgust and shake your head. “As long as I don’t have to drink it.” 

“You’re just paying, sweetheart.” Morgan’s eyes dart to Hotch, and he nods as he grins. “One for me and our fearless leader.” 

Hotch shakes his head. “Someone has to get us back to the hotel.” 

“That’s what cabs are for!” Prentiss exclaims. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud, Hotchner. You deserve to let a little loose.” 

“It takes most people an hour to process a drink,” Reid contributes, “so you’ll be fine before we leave if you want to drive.” 

“Come on, Hotch,” you say, and you nudge his shoulder. “You might as well—I’m paying.” 

“...Fine,” he says, and the whole team cheers. Even Reid smiles. 

“Y’know, you can smile tonight, Hotch,” you say with one of your own before you down the rest of your drink and stand up.

And one actually tugs at his lips. It feels a lot hotter in this bar with your eyes sparkling and you beaming right at him, and he fights the need to shed his jacket. Your grin somehow grows. 

“That’s what I came out to see,” you remark as you pick your wallet back up from the table. “I expect another when I get back, Hotch. There’s a lot to celebrate tonight.” 

Yeah, he thinks as he watches you go. There just might be. 

[baileypie-writes]

Okay i love your writing and its part of the reason i have been obsessed with velvet and veneer djsjdjdks

Sooooo how about, younger!brother!reader listening to velvet and veneer’s songs on repeat, and they find out and its just very fluffy :]

A/N ~ Omg thank you so much, you’re so sweet🥺🫶. Hope you enjoy!

~Our New Favorite Fan~

Velvet and Veneer + Younger Brother!Reader

Fandom: Trolls 3: Band Together

Relationship: Familial

Synopsis: Velvet and Veneer find out that you’re a big fan of their music.

Warnings: None!

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

“Watcha listening to, baby bro?” Veneer appeared in front on you. You jumped, and quickly paused the song, and hid your phone in your pocket.

“Nothing! You’d hate it!” You fibbed, removing your headphones.

“Aw, I doubt it. I’m pretty open to different types of music. Show me!”

You opened your phone, and quickly turned on a trending song. You flipped your phone around to show Veneer.

“Oh, I know that song! It’s pretty good!” He said, before turning around, and finally leaving you alone.

You sighed. Putting your headphones back on, you went back to the song you were actually listening to. The one you were too embarrassed to let your siblings know you liked.

~~~~

Your pencil glided along the paper as you did your homework. Though the scribbling sounds went unheard, as you listened to “Watch Me Work” yet again. You can’t count how many times you’ve hit replay on that song. It was just too catchy!

The fact that it was written and sung by your literal siblings makes you feel weird sometimes. That’s why you haven’t told them that you listen to their stuff. In your head, you imagine that they’d make fun of you or something.

You wrote down the answer to the last equation on the worksheet, and got off your bed to put it in your backpack. It didn’t occur to you that you were subconsciously singing along to the song. That is, until Velvet and Veneer came into your room.

“Hey, I know that song!” Veneer exclaimed. You jumped. That was the second time he scared you that day.

“I didn’t know that you liked our music (name).” Velvet said, clearly a bit proud.

You felt stupid that you didn’t close your door, and you let them hear you. “Ugh, yeah.” You admitted. “I kinda… listen to you all the time.”

“Wow. You like us that much huh?” Velvet teased, making you embarrassed.

You prepared yourself for more teasing. How weird is it to have your favorite artists be your own brother and sister? That’s gotta be teasing material, right? But Velvet and Veneer surprised you.

“Hey, why don’t you come to our next concert?” Velvet offered.

“Yeah! We’ll get you in the front row! I’m talking front front row! Like, so close that we can high five each other!” Veneer chimed in, giving the air a high five.

“Woah, seriously?” You asked, genuinely surprised.

“Yeah.” Velvet slung an arm around your shoulder, leaning on you cooly. “Anything for our new favorite fan.”

Wow. You wished you told them a lot earlier.

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

~~baileypie-writes

[darlingsart]

your oc is so adorable! 😍 can you tell us more about him?

Thank you!! 🥺❤️ Here he is (+ His little brother!)

Okay SO I've had these Patchilles OC's for like 3-ish years now and I've never shared them on here before bc they mean so much to me the idea of putting them out here seemed super scary BUT here are two of my Patchilles kids Maximus and Hyacinth 👉🏼👈🏼 (Yes that name is intentional and supposed to be ironic lmao)

More about them + the lore under the cut!

Basically, this is canon divergence and the lore is that Pat and Achilles don't go to Troy and instead stay in Phthia after their time on Pelion. Thinking that they no longer have to worry about a prophecy, they end up getting married and starting a family but, unbeknownst to them, the prophecy doesn't exactly go away, it gets passed down to Maximus and becomes it’s own big thing as the war goes on for well over a decade overseas. Thetis is the only one who actually knows about this and she keeps it a secret from Achilles and takes it upon herself to train Maximus and turn him into the next aristos achaion.

I'm actually in the middle of writing this as a series on ao3 (Currently on the 4th work!). If you're interested, you can start with the first fic, New Beginnings, which explains everything a lot more (their engagement, the reason why they stay) OR you can jump right into the story I'm currently working on, The Rest of Our Lives, though you might be a bit confused!

Maximus is by far one of my favorite OC’s but I love developing his siblings as characters too. If you read/have read The Rest of Our Lives, you’ll see that Maximus definitely takes after Achilles like without a doubt and it’s brought up several times but as he grows older, he becomes a well rounded mix of them both and I like to think that Pat’s attributes shine more then though I haven’t written it all out just yet! Maximus is just a fun loving, rambunctious kid who tries his best with the cards he’s dealt, he’s very loving and kind hearted and an overall good kid!

Hyacinth is about four years younger than him and one of my favorites too, especially as he grows into his character. So they do have another sibling but I’ve only just gotten there in the story so I don’t want to spoil anything, but he is a true middle child lol it’s actually an important part of his character that really gets explored later on in the series. He’s also a sweetheart, a little more reserved than Maximus but I wouldn’t call him an introvert, he’s just not as…. Hyperactive as his older brother lmao but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t get roped into Maximus’ antics too.

I’ve also written modern au stuff with them (which I haven’t posted anywhere), so like now whenever I imagine any au with Pat and Achilles, it’s hard not to picture these two, especially Maximus, in it too lol

Sorry for rambling so much, this is the first time I’ve actually talked about these two outside of my writing 😅 I hope y'all enjoy them as much as I do! And feel free to ask me about them from time to time if you want :)

[yourpeculiarfriend]

Hey,so,I’m writing a pla fic right now and I have no idea how to write adaman.pls help,

Ooh! I haven’t written for him in a while but I’ll try my best to give some advice! I might ramble a bit lol;;

Of course it depends what kind of fic you’re writing, but what I usually do when I write a character is go straight to their wiki page just to get the brief summary of them. This jogs my memory and gives me an understanding of roughly what they may sound like.

For example:

This is already a strong starting point to bounce off of. From here you can really just break him down to his traits and work from there.

While we never explicitly got the internal thoughts of Adaman in game, something I love about fanfiction is that you can use what you know to infer more about that. He’s a leader, but he’s impatient, he’s on the younger side, and he still has much to learn. His entire clan is like a family. There are times where he doesn’t feel taken seriously because of this, but you can still tell he has a position of authority. That’s what makes all of their dynamics so fun. Everyone in that clan, in some way is like a sibling to him. Even Akari and Rei are like his younger siblings in a sense. So obviously their dynamic is gonna be different than how he would act around Kamado or Laventon.

For dialogue - another thing I really love is that Bulbapedia has a quotes section for most, if not, all of the characters in games. Adaman is not an exception to this. When I write him I constantly come back to this section and read it.

Just from skimming I can remember key aspects of who he is. He’s a go-getter, he’s curious, he reflects on things a lot, and of course, he’s always got time on his mind.

What makes him so lovable to me is that he also has little quirks, which add so much. He can’t play the Celestica flute, he wants to learn how to cook, and it’s implied he’s had his Pokémon since he was young. But he’s not perfect. He can still be stubborn and jump into things. (He’s also a yapper! This man talks sooo much lmao!!)

I’ve spent an unhealthy amount of time taking notes of every little aspect of this man and I’ll be so glad if any of this has been helpful ajevjebe. Point is, there’s quite a few things to work with when it comes to him, which is really great. I’d love to read your fic if you post it anywhere!

[444m777]

29 things I love about Michael: Day 29

Where do I even start?

Well first things first HAPPY BIRTHDAY MICHAEL!

I spent the majority of the day watching a bunch of MJ videos, edits, performances and I got the bright idea to read several MJ books at the same time🙃 so in between switching from my phone to books I’ve been also crying and wishing he was still here not for the fans but for his children so he could physically be there for them and watch as they grow older and more into who they’ve always been but as an adult. My heart goes out to his kids and family.

So on the 29th day (and I missed so many days after the 19th or 20th) I want to say that his essence is what I love about him. Everyone’s essence is unique to them. Some try to copy but we can tell when someone’s trying to be someone they’re not. Which is why he cannot be replicated. And he shouldn’t be. What we are left with is his legacy and as fans we must preserve it in its entirety. Not just the music and dancing but also who Michael was as person. A true humanitarian who wanted to protect children all over the world. Providing a space(s) of comfort for everyone. Reminding people that they’re not alone and that together we can truly make changes in our own communities and the WHOLE world.

To make up for the days that I didn’t get to post brief sentences on why I love Michael for the days I didn’t get to post

Day 20: he was vegetarian but he loved him some KFC. I myself have dabbled in veganism/vegetarianism throughout my adult life but CHICKEN when fried oefff… that’s tough to let go completely haha

Day 21: his complicated relationship with dogs… I know he didn’t like dogs because they turned on him and some dogs bite etc. but I just love how he loved his half wolf half german shepard dog called Black Girl. She was abused by her previous owner and Michael and Janet tried their best to be gentle and gave Black Girl lots of hugs and kisses when they were younger. I’m a dog person so I was a bit sad he mentioned being afraid of dogs and mentioned dogs turning on him BUT Black Girl was sweet and gentle and Michael made sure to take care not to trigger her (unlike other people like his Father who used to point his gun at the dog—yikes!).

Day 22: also love that he was so curious about the universe and why things (meaning a leaf, space, insects etc.) were the way they were. I want to go more in depth about this at one point because he was just naturally curious as most kids are and he continued to indulge that curiosity as an adult. He asked a LOT of questions. Something I used to get told as a kid “that’s just the way it is!” but I didn’t let that stop me. Reading/researching truly keeps me going for hours and hours. You just get lost at every new bit of information and he was huge on that. We truly can learn so much from his approach to life

Day 23: I’m also reading a book about Prince lol and of courseeeeee I’d find Michael in it. Long story short in the introduction Prince mentions how he wants his memoir to be written and doesn’t want to use the word magic to describe him/his music. He said “just look at a word and see if it’s one I would use. Because MAGIC isn’t one I’d use. Magic is Michael’s word. That’s what his music was about”. It’s true. It truly is Michael’s word.

Day 24: I’ve been struggling with my drawing. Like my lessons are going fine but when it comes to drawing Michael I’ve had really nice moments and other WHO TF IS THAT!? moments xD and i came across a video that showed roughly 200 drawings Michael did. There were I think about 10 ish drawings I haven’t seen before. And I noticed he would do light sketches and go into realism to more abstract and self potraits. Not everything was perfect. And by perfect I mean like super clean. I struggle with that at the moment and I love that his drawings reminded me that I’m doing this for fun. And to trust that when I draw something I’m proud of I should rejoice and when I draw something I’m not too happy about it then I can try again another time. He’s re-drawn so many of the same characters in varying styles over and over again. I mean he’s been sketching for DECADES so I've only been drawing for what 10 days🙃 it was a nice reminder to gently tell me to chill out haha.

Day 25: I love how big of fanboy Michael is when it comes to his idols and the greats he learned from and also having the chance to meet some of them. I’ve been thrusted down a small hole and have been busy collecting info regarding his idols. Seeing the patterns, the inspirations and just trying to get a feel for what fascinated him so much. Aside from their great talents/showmanship you are also expressing one of your highest forms of yourself so I want to see more of what he saw in them the same way I see and feel about him.

Day 26: this one is a bit sad as I really feel he was snubbed from acting. It’s very clear that becoming an actor was the next step in his plans. From a very young age. It’s sad roles were promised then suddenly given to someone else. Audition tapes not considered and even having a shitty meeting with the person who’s going to play the character you were promised to play just to get some sort of rise out of him. At least that’s why I think that person did that and set that meeting up. Anyways I’m just so happy that he chose to invest his own money in Moonwalker and made it happen. I always thought I’d see more of him on screen and we were robbed by a lot of jealous people and people who felt he wouldn’t add anything aside from the fact that he’s famous. He still continued to pursue it in smaller ways and I hope in the next lifetime he’s able to be the full fledged actor he’s always wanted to be and directing and writing movies left and right!

Day 27: his music is truly healing and positively affirms a lot of great things. I’ve kept track of affirmations in his music from the Jackons up until Invincible. I struggle with anxiety and would repeat some of the affirmations throughout the day or when I wake up in the morning. I make sure to be grateful and I affirm a good and positive day with one his lyric affirmations. I’ve used affirmations before but THESE stick with me because it’s Michael lol but he truly was ahead of his time in so many subjects that people would and WILL be baffled when they find out. He was a SMART, curious man. And very big on positive thinking and positively manipulating the subconscious mind.

Day 28: I love how he was pro-Black. His message was very much UNITY of all races, backgrounds etc. but he reminded people that he was proud to be BLACK. People love to forget that part.

[drunkenlionwrites]

Hehe hi! I'm new to your blog but I like your writing a whole lot already! (I saw your post about sending in HSR stuff and was so excited!)

I was wondering about a little something (even just hcs) for Sampo with a fem!reader who's basically like Natasha's little sister and works in the clinic too 💕 fluff and spice is always nice 💕

Keep up the excellent writing!

-Ally

Hi Ally! Thanks so much for the request, and so sorry for taking a long time to complete it, I've been writing less frequently as of late. Thanks for your kind words and hope you like these headcanons I came up with. 💖💖 Sampo x fem!reader who works at Natasha's clinic Warnings: none, fluff, mostly sfw, g/n reader, no pronouns, no specific body parts mentioned

You’ve been with Natasha since she’s managed to open her clinic, with some age difference, Nat basically treated you like younger sister. It was nice to have someone looking out for you in the Underworld, so you did your best to help her with anything you could, basically becoming her apprentice as well.

When a weird self-confident but a tad smarmy guy showed up in the Underworld and assisted Natasha with providing some medicine from Overworld as well as some info and intel about what has been happening in Belobog, you didn’t pay a lot of attention to him.

It’s not until he started openly flirting with you, bringing small trinkets with him when coming to clinic to trade with Natasha. “To my precious customer’s precious person, free of charge” he’d say, offering you few flowers growing only in the Overworld, some intricate sweets you’ve never tasted, notebooks, postcards with Belobog views with some cheesy one-liners written inside them.

It all looked fairly innocent, and you didn’t seem interested, always making fun of Sampo’s manner of speech and antics, so Natasha could only roll her eyes at his antics and brush everything off, with you giggling on the backside.

You haven’t even noticed how Sampo’s visits became more and more frequent, him coming to hang out in the hospital even when Natasha was out just to chat you up. He’s been nothing but gallant and polite with you, even if a bit obnoxious, so you had no reason to reject his offers to walk you home when you ran errands, to just entertain him with an idle talk when he barged into clinic saying he’s terribly bored.

With Natasha and Seele always doting on you and nagging you about Sampo’s shady ways, you decided to keep your friendship low-key and offered him to meet somewhere outside clinic, to which Sampo wholeheartedly agreed with the biggest grin you’ve seen on his face.

You didn’t know it at the time, but that was how you basically went on a first date with him and how your more intimate relationship kick-started.

Even though it has been interesting to listen to Sampo’s overexaggerated stories about his adventures and heists, it has been even more nice when his tongue was busy with something (or rather someone) other than talking.

Kissing in the dark alleyways, giggling, and hiding in the clinic’s storage room, basically devouring each other and desperately grinding your bodies, while making sure Natasha or clinic’s patients cannot hear you, hiding from angry Seele who’s been chasing Sampo to chastise him for something he has done again, constantly patching up his wounds – it all became a part of your everyday routine.

You started enjoying the mischievous side of him a lot more, coming to terms with a bit shady persona he has and the ‘businesses’ he seemed to have a never-ending amount of. Though, observing his actions closely, you’ve noticed that he’s never been outright cruel or backstabbing to people, or so you wanted to think to satisfy your goody-two-shoes persona. Sometimes you still nagged him over the things he’s done that seemed too much for your standards, so Sampo begrudgingly agreed with you time and time again to repair the damage he's done to some people.

Natasha’s been fuming when she returned home one day a bit earlier and saw Sampo in your bedroom, him managing to say only “Wooops” with a shrug of his shoulders. She’s never expected this outcome, especially with Sampo’s lessened visits and flirting with you at the clinic lately. So, you two ended up sitting in the living room and receiving a ‘parent talk’ from her.

Sampo’s almost weaseled his way from under Natasha’s scrutiny, but it was mostly due to your assurance that you’re an adult person responsible for your own actions and you’ve got everything under control.

Once busted, the rumors spread around the Underworld, you’ve started receiving all kinds of comments about your relationship, earning only exasperated groans from you. Though, you’ve been happy that you don’t need to hide anymore. Well…unless Sampo has been chased by Seele again, or hiding from some of the café’s patrons to whom he owed something, or haven’t finished Oleg’s errand in a long time…

But you like it, you love your boyfriend and how the things are never simple and boring with him. And, despite him being a total menace he has not stopped showing his love and appreciation for you for a single moment, always being sure to shower you with gifts and attention whenever he got back from his heists.

[callsign-rogueone]

The thoughts are thought-ing after "glad it was you" oh.my.god. why are they so cute??? So so many thoughts. Are they now legally married? What about the twins? Do they like Bodhi? Do they all reunite in Aretia? If they got married, did they do it in secret? Who was there? Was that their first kiss?

SO.MANY. THOUGHTS

I love this reaction and it made me so happy that I shed two (2) tears. thank you for sharing ur thoughts!! let me attempt to answer some of those questions (and leave you with more questions… hehe) 💗🌷

why are they so cute???

I know this one is likely rhetorical, but because they’re shy little babies with zero relationship experience who have been raised to be quiet and respectful and polite, and are both still trying to feel out what the other person thinks of this whole arrangement and not overstep any boundaries. that’ll continue for a little while, until they get to know each other better. but even then they’ll still be cute because it’s Bodhi, and he’s the cutest ever, and is gonna be deeply in love with her (bold to say he isn’t already) and because Darling is so sweet.

Are they now legally married? Who was there?

yes, they are legally married in the eyes of the Tyrrish government and Navarre. she did not change her last name (all that paperwork is low priority in the middle of a war) so for all intents and purposes she is still a Laurent. maybe someday she’ll be a Durran. their kids will be, at least. 

there was no ceremony, no vows, no "wedding night"... the contract was signed and submitted and approved and that was it. I imagine that their parents had to sign it as well, since they were underage.

she brought her family’s copy to Basgiath, for a multitude of reasons: to have one last bit of her parents’ handwriting, to keep it safe in emergency / etc as one does with important paperwork, but also as a way to make sure she and Bo wouldn’t be separated after graduation (I think that they would try to keep spouses together, such as Vi’s parents.)

If they got married, did they do it in secret?

yeah, the whole thing is kindof a secret. the rebellion kids know, and Brennan and Duchess and the assembly etc, but Bo and Darling don’t really talk about it. the rest of their classmates just believe that they’re long-term BF/GF, and they’re content to keep it that way — none of their other classmates are married and it would just be awkward to tell people. eventually Dain and Violet will find out, and I’ll give you both of those conversations! they’re already written hehe 

Was that their first kiss?

as of where we left them in “glad it was you”, they haven’t kissed yet. they shook hands in the garden at her parents house when they met (without gloves, so scandalous!) and then he held her during the executions / in the aftermath while the four of them cried. maybe some handshakes or her holding his arm on a walk, etc., that happened in between, but that’s it in terms of physical contact. more to come though… we shouldn’t forget that he was the one who taught her to fight. and I also wrote some of the pillow talk after their first time the other day… 

I have at least two more pre-Basgiath chapters planned for them, that will have them getting to know each other, and Darling meeting the rest of the gang. that’ll be fun for everyone involved and not awkward at all! (sarcasm.)

What about the twins? Do they like Bodhi?

I haven’t settled on the twins’ ages, but they’re considerably younger than Darling. she’s 17 at the time of the revolution, but they’re like… 8-10? I also haven’t named them, because I struggle with picking names, and idk if people would want to imagine their own siblings in that role?? I’m the baby of the family, and basically an only child these days. I don’t know these things.

anyway yes they’ll love Bo. they don’t fully understand why he’s here all of a sudden, but he passed the vibe check during his few interactions with them before everything crumbled around them (which I haven’t written, and probably won’t), but he’s kind to them, and to darling, who is the center of their universe and their most favoritest person, so he’s approved! and they were willing to lean on him in their grief — he’s a safe person for them all 🥺

Do they all reunite in Aretia?

yes!! I have this planned for sure, 100% happening. Darling feels a lot of guilt for leaving them behind when she goes to Basgiath (I’m still working out their living arrangement there…) and she writes as early and as often as she can. so naturally when she comes back to Riorson house at the end of her second year after Resson, she’s dipping for a day to go see them while everyone else recovers, and they get to meet Sìoda!! and then again in IF when everyone moves into Riorson house, she’s leaving Love in charge for a day and going to see her bbs. they’re all grown up by then 🥺

their future remains unclear — they’re marked, but they might not have to go to Basgiath by the time that they turn 20 if the “second revolution” is successful. we’ll see how that goes. they don’t really have personalities or anything yet… they kinda just exist as development for Darling, oops. but the twins might make a brief appearance in the Happily Ever After AU. somebody needs to hold all those perfect little babies that their sister and her husband are gonna have. 

some peekies:

“And now?” She asks softly. “What do you want to be?” You pause your stitching for a split second, not expecting the question. “That doesn’t matter now,” you say hastily, tying a small knot and snipping off the extra thread. “My fate has already been decided.”

-> poor girl has had everything decided for her. but you’re really going to get a dip into her psyche here (through Violet) and I love it!!! (you may remember that Vi is now her ward, lmao. darling is going to help smooth things over between X and V a little, and keep being the cool mom. and do we not all constantly imagine the lives that our mothers could have had without us and grieve on their behalf?)

“I’m only going to ask once,” he warns, a look in his eyes that Xaden has never seen before. “Where the fuck is my wife?”

-> it would be a disservice to everyone if I didn’t drop one of these in there somewhere. you're welcome (and I'm sorry).

okay that's it for now because if I don't restrain myself I will spoil absolutely everything! ily xoxo

[autumnslance]

Fic Writer Interview

Tagged by @sheepwithspecs technically on my main but this is where fanfic goes. Do this if you wanna!

How many works do you have on AO3?

47 as of 2/6/24. There's a few things I need to get around to adding there though.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

411,290 as of 2/6/24

What are your top 5 fics by kudos

Downtime (compilation of younger Scions & other teen chars being pals in Norvrandt) Unexpected (compilation of shippy nonsense) A Constant Distant Thunder (Thancred in ARR patches post-Lahabrea) Ruminations (General Warrior of Light introspections & adventures) Rogue's Prelude (My headcanons on Thancred meeting Louisoix, Papalymo, and Yda)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I usually do! I often try to. So my comment count is almost, not quite though, doubled.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hrm; I tend to do a lot of bittersweet endings. We'll keep it simple and say "Never Gets Easier", a fic where Edmont and Charlemend talk about their lost sons. There's no sweetness there, just men haunted by mistakes and losses.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Maybe "When Everything Changes" which is kid fic from the POV of my WoL's older brother when she's born and his ambivalence turns to big brother joy and love.

Do you write crossovers?

Haven't yet.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not that I recall.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Occasionally. Usually pretty vanilla. It's all right, I guess.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Had an OC's backstory on our WoW RP server's fic blogging site lifted wholesale; they changed the names and class, and then…walked into our weekly guild meeting that I was leading and tried to join our guild. When confronted, the person claimed their partner had leveled the character for them and based the backstory on Skyrim (my OC's story is very specific to WoW). They tried to message me later as if we were pals who would laugh this off someday. I informed them that was not a thing and btw the site mods knew they were a plagiarist now. Also everyone knew who their alts were and a bunch of other trouble they'd caused. So far as I know, they bailed from our server after that.

I hoped they learned better and grew up quite a bit; this was well over a decade ago.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Once or twice now; so long as folks credit and link back to my originals, and share the translated link with me, it's all good!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Roleplay and actual story collaboration both. It's a lot of fun.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

How dare you.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

*stares at WIP folder*

Come back with a warrant.

(I won't say never, but there's a lot that probably are just noodling and scraps to feed something else later)

What are your writing strengths?

Folks seem to like my dialogue.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Impatience, and certain grammatical abuses that do nothing for length nor clarity.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Depends on the fic. Depends on the intended audience.

For dialects, mostly the concern is "don't overdo it" as it can slow things down, be really jarring at best and offensive at worst, and difficult to understand if laying it on too thick.

Other languages entirely have different guidelines though, from sprinkling in single words or short phrases, to entire passages, and whether or not you translate or leave it up to the reader. Depends on fandom, on the characters, on the story, author intentions.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Narnia, in a my little girl diary as a pre-teen. I wanted to pick up Susan's story as a grown up and bring her and family back to a magical land. Cuz I knew it could, would happen someday, even if Lewis never got to write it himself.

What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

Final Fantasy XVI. Midst. The latter is tricky as I really don't have ideas at the moment, but really want to dig into that vibe. My writing needs to be more weird in general, really.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

How dare you, come back with a warrant!

[lucero-is-here]

Waltzes into the room in an outfit similar to Diego’s

Good afternoon, evening or morning ladies, gentlemen and folks. It’s headcanon time. Presenting- Diego Alejandro Montoya Esteban del Lobo. Also, the only reason this is being posted earlier than the tons of other requests I have is due to the fact some of this was written a long time ago, and I haven’t posted for a while. I will get to your other requests as soon as possible!

Here he is:

Requested by:

Now I know this man, so let’s get to him!

- he had high heels and can definitely walk in them with no issue.

- usually wears boots or loafers. Occasionally high heels to look more fancy.

- his hair takes prayers, genetics and some washing every now and then to look as good as it looks now.

- Hat collection. He has a bunch of different hats for different outfits, and he loves all of his hats equally (that’s a lie he likes his black hat the most)

- bisexual

- when he first joined the flying squad, he definitely tried pulling pranks on Arthur Wright. Some were successful, some backfired.

- he’s a prankster in general. He likes pranking people. It’s always harmless pranks, but they can escalate sometimes to being really annoying.

- cold hands. His hands are kinda cold, so he wears gloves.

- he flirts a lot- he flirts with people for fun or keep them on their toes, or just to fluster them. He finds it funny when they get flustered.

- sometimes, his flirting backfires cause the person flirts back, and somehow flusters him more than he flusters them and it’s so so funny watching him turn red with embarrassment.

- coarse hands. His hands are kind of rough…Not the smoothest definitely.

- he likes hugs a lot- or basically physically affection. If he has any lovers, he’s kissing them on the forehead or cheeks on a daily basis.

- they bailed him out of jail temporarily so he could visit Charles Dupont’s grave- (and also to diss off Lawson’s grave)

- He can DANCE! and he dances really well.

- he wanted to be a painter when he was younger. And technically, he is. He is.

- Evie let him meet her brother, Nicholas, once. Diego definitely tried flirting with him, and it definitely worked well on Diego’s side.

- He hides everywhere. If you see a laundry basket somewhere, and it’s quite big, there is a chance Diego is hiding in it waiting to jumpscare you or someone else.

- cursive handwriting, that is a bit hard to read.

- he can copy other people’s handwriting and writing style, and impersonate as them.

- when Arthur fought Malcolm, he stood aside cheering at Arthur and yelled: “HIT HIM IN THE BALLS!” While eating popcorn. It was very funny.

- He likes popcorn.

- Super good spice tolerance. He eats everything spicy- and loves it.

- parent issues. Grew up in an emotionally unsafe household, and struggles to express how he actually feels about certain things.

- he did a backflip once, and swore to himself never to do it again because he almost failed-

- flexible. Flexible as hell.

- wardrobe is mainly made of suits, and he has a lot of suits.

Okay that’s it. If I think of more a part 2 will be posted!

[wanderlustmagician]

hi friend I am respectfully making demands at risk of siege that you talk about something in your modern au that might never come up in text but is a piece of it nonetheless

you have 72 hours otw canadas next

Somer. You nearly made the temptation to wait on this too much. Luckily I’m a Grade A rambler being asked to ramble and there is a good bit that either won’t or might not ever be in this. Buckle up buttercup. 🤪

So I have included, in some of my ramblings, references that the First Hero (ie the one mentioned in Skyward Sword as being Sky’s predecessor) and that trains will be in this AU. Currently the plan is to make this very slice of life, one-two shot set up for the Before the Adventure stuff and then have a “introduction of plot” fic that’s chaptered… before the rest is back to the one-three shot slice of life stuff. So my opportunity to have many things be brought outa the vault is pretty high. So that said…. This will be pretty much bits and pieces of ideas I had and scrapped but still like or things I’m holding onto but likely won’t write;

That said… Mister First will likely stay as just referenced as the Queen’s companion, until or unless he appears in LU canon and I feel it necessary to include him more. Mostly cause nine is the biggest cast I’ve written for… ever. Which isn’t even the full number for LU but it’s the most consistent one. Also because i don’t know enough to feel like I’ve got a good grasp. Plus it’s fun to make him kind of cryptid like in this quasi-political court field I’ve created.

Then the trains! Spirit Tracks is really cute and very much set far after Wind’s time. So I thought it could be fun to have that as a little teaser to maybe having the train boy come in. We’ll see. I want to go through a little more and see how some others shake out with the plot I currently have.

The Champions were actual people in this! Not just constellations. They did pass in The Calamity and I will likely only ever reference them briefly for feels. Urbosa was the soccer coach at Wild and Flora’s school. Revali was Link’s rival in archery. Mipha was Swim Captain and in a flirtationship with Wild. Daruk was the wrestling coach. Both Urbosa and Daruk taught actual classes. Daruk did Math, don’t ask me which.. pls I don’t like math. Urbosa did the Gerudo language class.

Urbosa was Riju’s cousin, it was distanced though. Daruk was Yunobo’s grandfather still. Mipha and Sidon still siblings, can’t change that. Revali was Saki’s nephew.

None of this will ever really come up because Wild’s past amnesia will only come up occasionally. It’s said that in BOTW that he has regained his memory by the end, so im going to run with a version of Wild who remembers, is grieving, and is trying to move on. So at most there will be a reference to them as his still healing grief comes and goes.

A lot of my world building are things that likely will not be big big in the story, just things I’ve made note of so I remember that they’re important references.

Like Sky and Twi’s nicknames for each other! They defend them ruthlessly, even if they’re a little embarrassed by them. They were penpals as kids, a program ran by their schools to encourage the grade schoolers to practice writing, and got made fun of by their classmates because their names are the same! So the usual school yard taunts of their penpal being themself and things a long those lines. Little kid logic of let’s give each other nicknames and that’ll solve the problem! It didn’t but it made them feel better and special, so they stuck. The nicknames come from their middle names and I haven’t decided if those get revealed in story or not, so no sharing here yet.

There is some funky magic stuff that happened, happens, and will happen. Time and Lullaby do have the whole time magic stuff. So while Time remembers meeting Warriors… Warriors remembers meeting someone much younger and thinks Time is his own younger brother (this may come up, it may not). Warriors did deal with some funky portal magic stuff like from his game, yes Cia was in the middle of it, and The Calamity was a magically driven disaster.

I played around with the idea of the depths also being a part of the Hyrule map and having it be the home of the Twili people… except that was going to be a little much to handle as far as keeping track and mentioning. So I scrapped it.

The Twili people do have a land of their own, it is outside of Hyrule, but it is not a part of Hyrule. Midna lived with Dusk when she was an exchange student. Her phone number was turned off because Hylian phone carriers don’t work in the Twili lands. The Twili people are more nomadic despite being modern times, they still move from place to place. They have ‘Village Sites’ where there are some buildings that they move into when they move. Their clothing reflects that more nomadic lifestyle and they tend to not keep anything that can’t be carried easily.

There will be more probably… once I start actually hammering out full pieces, there will be for sure.

[a-flux-uchiha]

I’ve been meaning to post these for a while, we’re not technically done, since I haven’t done Mikoto yet, but what can you do.

From top left to bottom right, it is Dot(Grimoire), Tenten(Tome), and Mai(Archive), then on the bottom it’s Ivy(name undecided), and Kushina(Kitsune).

The top three are the focus of Shuriken, Spikes and Swords, a crossover magical girl au I’m still working on, although it is fully planned out, just not fully written out.

Kushina and Mikoto were the generation before them, so they function a bit as mentors. I'm hoping to write out some shenanigans from when they were active. I've been meaning to get around to doing Mikoto, although I haven't managed it yet. I have a sketch for her, I just have to do it.

Ivy will be introduced in a second fic, something I had been intending to do anyway, just because it's been a lot of fun working on SSS. I had been intending to just continue with the three from the first one, however...I am not active in loz anymore, and that is very much on purpose, so I'd rather not have a fic still involving that. So, we're swapping Dot out. She'll just be moving away and Ivy will take her place. Ivy will be a couple years younger then Tenten, so just a year younger then Dot.

Please ask me about this au, I love it dearly, I have so much for it.

It got Long, so design notes under the read more.

Design notes going from top left to bottom right:

Dot: Her colors were a little rough since, well, almost all of her associated colors are already in Tenten or Mai. Pink, Red, and Teal all show up in one of those two. So it was a bit of a struggle to work that out. I think it worked out alright in the end though. Her design was originally a bit more complicated, then someone noted that her design was more complicated then Tenten and Mai's, so I ended up simplifying it a bit in the final version. She does have a cape, although it's rather hard to see. I swear it's there though. The bag at her side holds her magical item, which is a book, a grimoire you could say. It holds spells and potions and other such things. Her and Tenten were designed first, then Mai, so I could work out what things the two of them had in common and make them show up in Mai, since she had the least direction as she doesn't have any particular typical outfit from her anime. If you're wondering, the golden orb is magic and yes it's fully there to hide the fingers of that hand. We don't talk about that hand. Oh yes, please note the crown as well, that blue diamond is something you can note shows up on Tenten, Mai, and Ivy. It's a sort of team identifier thing. It's used when multiple teams of magical girls are in the same area, for something like a natural disaster usually.

Tenten: I settled on that hair option after it was decided to be the superior one between it and something similar but with braids. That one's probably more fun, if very Sailor Moon ish. Oh well. Her outfit does look very similar to one of her canon ones, which of course is on purpose, although note her forehead protector has the blue diamond on it instead of the Konoha symbol. She has a thigh pouch, and the bag hanging from her waist holds her magic item, which is a scroll similar to the ones she used in Konoha. When she's transformed it holds seals for all weapons she used in Konoha, when she's not, she draws her own seals on it, and those work like normal seals where she needs to put something in to take something out, as opposed to the transformed seals, which just spawn things in for her. There's a good chance I designed her first, since she's got the easiest design. You'll notice the waist belt system thing also shows up on Kushina and will show up on Mikoto, that is on purpose.

Mai: There was no particular reason for the boob window, Mai just wanted one and thought it was fun. Which, fair. It's mostly blocked by her hand in the drawing though. She's holding her magical item, which is a binder she writes in. She uses it to keep track of things, including the kinds of monsters they're seeing and in what quantities. She's got a couple other uses for it too, but that's the big one. She's technically a support type magical girl as she does not have magic from a past life, but she does still have magic she can use. Her specific ability is to briefly slow down time. She can't use it for very long though, as she doesn't have much magic. She's got blue diamond earrings, and if you're wondering, no one can pull on them, they're actively not technically attached to her ears. Not just a design choice they're actively not attached. Grab one and pull and you're just going to pull it away. It'll reattach itself when you let go. Notes I had when designing her outfit primarily were the skirt design, the lining of the top and sleeves, the gloves length, the bag, and the presence of the blue diamonds. Oh and the boots being like that. Her hair is held back by a headband, to go with the forehead protector on Tenten, and Dot's crown and hair bow.

Kushina: Her name is Kitsune, I'm sure you can guess why. She originally did have the long elf-like ears the others do, but after she figured out she could change her transformed state, she swapped them out for the big fox ears. It doesn't really matter as long as the ears aren't human. (Editor's note, here I realized while looking at my Ivy design that I had forgotten to do the long ears, and hurried off to fix that, this post has the proper version.) The whiskers on her face are fully because she knows Naruto had em in the other world, and she remembered his birth(and her death) soon after she became a magical girl. So there are very very few pictures of the times Kushina didn't have whiskers or big fox ears. Her magical item is the necklace, Mikoto's is also a necklace, although hers is a hawk. If you're wondering, Mikoto does have giant hawk wings, just because she could. And she should match Kushina. Kushina's actually wearing shorts under the green over dress.

And Last but Not least, Ivy: I lowkey almost forgot to draw the long ears on em. Luckily I remembered before posting this lol. Most important thing here and now: I'm going with a genderfluid Ivy! Mostly since I think it'll be fun. There is gender stuff going on with the whole magical girl situation, and while this isn't on display with any of the others, I figured I might as well get someone on board who could show off that side of this. that's mostly why I ended up picking Ivy out of all of my options for who would replace Dot. I'll just be using she when describing Ivy this time, but I'll probably switch it up in future posts. Ivy's one of the rare genderfluid magical girls who doesn't mind being active when they're not a girl, many genderfluid individuals who become magical girls are only working essentially part time. Whenever they comfortable with it. They're only found in teams of 3 or more because of that, so there's always at least two active magical girls. Actual design notes now: She's wearing kind of a variant on what she's normally wearing in the show, just without the jacket. Her magical item is Sora, although the slime only comes alive when she's transformed. Otherwise it's just a cute little plushie she carries around. She does have a fourth bag in the back attached to the belt around her waist, similar to in the show, and she can pull about anything out of those bags that she wants to. Similar to Tenten's scroll, they just spawn in the item she needs, although they are temporary. The blue diamond is on her bag strap, so still visible. Sora often hides out in the red bag, and is capable of healing large injuries, as well as smaller scrapes. Can and will eat bigger things now as well, although still prefers the potions Ivy can toss it. You will note that Ivy doesn't match Tenten and Mai quite as well as they match each other and Dot, that is on purpose, that's fairly typical for magical girl teams where one person was added later, since Ivy didn't become active at the same time as them, although they are her first team, she's technically considered a latecomer, which isn't bad. It's fairly normal for magical girl teams to switch up who's in them, especially early on when everyone is in college and early adulthood. Oh yeah you can note that her bangs are slightly off, particularly in the front, that is on purpose on her part, they look like Lattrua's.

[bisluthq]

that is 100% ChatGPT. those last night essays have take me down terrible paths.

lol I haven’t written whole essays on it but I’ve used it to help me understand complex things that I don’t understand (like with my bf’s back surgeries the doctors would say things I didn’t always understand so I’d ask ChatGPT about certain aspects of it and it did seem to really help me). I’ve used it for younger/very special needs kids I teach to write me stories with their names/about them for comprehensions and it also comes up with comprehension questions quite well. I do edit those stories though and I also add vocab/spelling words to the prompt and stuff and it’s still much quicker than if I wrote it from scratch. I've also used it to check like lists of things (like if I need a list of something for a fun fact in a class I'm teaching, I often ask chatGPT rather than spending ages on Google looking at multiple listicles).

as I understand it, chatGPT uses existing sources that it has available to it in order to write things. That’s how it learns and grows. So yea I guess asking it to write a PR strategy doc, which isn’t really gonna be readily available for it to learn the form/structure of, would come out dumb lmao and perhaps *is* indeed what they used. I’ve had students try submit ChatGPT and I can tell it’s that when it just sounds nothing like them and references things I know they don’t know about but in a weird way - not quite like this, though, often just very simple sentence structure but convoluted words. So I guess maybe a bit like this. But the repeating “Travis Kelce” was weird even for ChatGPT, although I guess maybe ChatGPT doesn’t know what a Travis Kelce… is…

[inkdemonapologist]

Who's your favorite female character in BATIM? Also, what do you think about Audrey as a character (aside from the weird stuff about Joey and "you don't have to be like this" that you mentioned in that one post)? You draw her really well.

Aw, thank you! And MAN that’s a tough question……

Dot and Abby and Susie are my personal stack of favs. Dot’s probably the one where I like her personality as-written the most, since Abby I find difficult to summarise beyond “she’s gender” and loving her friendship with her besties in TIOL (and also getting my heart destroyed after seeing her and Joey interact in DCTL). Abby seems like a delight to interact with and I enjoy that she’s a little bit rude at heart but in a “omg its true but u shouldn’t say it lmao” sort of way, and I get the sense that she and Joey kind of enabled each other when they were younger. I’d love to hear more of her art opinions. I would say I’d get in a fight with her about Monet, but I don’t think she’d even give me the honour of an argument.

We as a fandom have spent a lot of time yelling about how Buddy is clearly autistic and I don’t think we spend NEAR enough time talking about how Dot is clearly autistic as well. I really like the contrast between the two of them through that lens; Buddy has never understood an unstated implication in his life and he’s not about to start now, but badly wants to interact the way he’s expected to, whereas Dot is incredibly intuitive, perceptive, and understands subtext but has no time for it frankly and would rather be direct than conventional. A day after meeting Buddy she’s explaining how conversations work and coaching Buddy on how to ask questions even when he’s being guided away from asking questions, which is definitely a normal way to converse. I love her so much.

Meanwhile Susie is so complicated by virtue of having almost no presence in the books – just the games, where her timeline is one of the most up in the air, her writing is hit or miss, and so so much of her personality is in the gaps between audiologs that, like most in-game BatIMs, means no two fandom Susies are the same. I find her really compelling, though, exploring the character to find that sweet spot between someone who is clearly very charming and cheerful and sweet and sympathetic, but also cruel enough to become Malice, entitled and demanding enough to not take “no” for an answer and to simply decide that Alice should get to be hers forever. I’ve said before that I like to imagine that’s what Sammy saw in her, someone who could somehow be simultaneously thoughtful and optimistic and ruthlessly ambitious. I think she’s neat, but also I love her best when she’s not just sweet and not just horrible.

Anyway, Audrey’s a fun character with a lot of pretty believable emotional responses; when scenes are taken individually, I like her. Grain of salt that I haven’t watched the whole game, I’ve just seen some big moments and cutscenes, SO I COULD BE WAY OFF HERE -- but from what I've seen, while it’s tempting to say she has more personality than her predecessor, I’d be hard-pressed to pin down exactly what that personality is.

I don’t think it was intentional, but Henry’s weary compartmentalisation soaked into every comment he made, even when the things he was saying were deliriously strange (“[survives a deadly supernatural ordeal] huh, looks like I need 3 gears here”). We all made headcanons about how he’s either tired from the loops or selectively mute or just trying not to think about the horrors, and it felt like it worked. But Audrey is tough to really pin down a motivating force for, as if she’s defined by static descriptors like “determined” and “kind” rather than any particular desire like “wants to help” or “wants to stay out of trouble” that might spur her to make decisions based on those desires. Her most consistent character trait is giving others the benefit of the doubt (and constantly getting burned for it) and her most reinforced motivation is that she just wants to not be in the confusing dangerous weird ink place, which, like, same! I WOULDNT WANT TO BE THERE EITHER

She sounds bitter when Joey compares her to a father she never knew, which is an expected and reasonable response on its own that feels right in the moment – but when we look at her timeline (or the Archive’s revelation that she repressed her memories of her father AFTER Joey’s death), it’s actually a sort of difficult reaction to make sense of. I feel like a lot of her reactions are like this, especially near the end; they’re not that weird in the moment, but it’s hard to get a sense of why she’s doing these things or what’s led her to the conclusions she comes to. She defends Wilson to Allison, but like… what led her to believe that he’s legit? We can fill in those blanks with headcanons, of course, but we don’t have strong clues. Is it her having sympathy for him now that she “knows” he’s trying to save his father, or does she think it’s her best shot to get out of here, or does she really believe Wilson is going to fix everything despite everything else she’s seen? Do her chat with Henry and the revelation that Baby Bendy and the Ink Demon are one and the same just not affect her decision-making at all here? Or is killing Baby Bendy just a sacrifice she’s immediately willing to make once she realises that? What ARE Audrey’s feelings on her father and at what point does she remember him? Audrey giving Allison her name is a nice subtle indication that she’s started to accept that Joey’s story might be true, which I genuinely like, but it’s weird that we see her doing that right before insisting that she’s gonna go off and hear Wilson out – we get this indication that she’s started believing Joey, but apparently not enough to decide to try to fix the cycle, not enough to put together that the “wicked creatures who never came from my pen” might be the Keepers that she knows answer directly to Wilson. She’s determined to help Wilson so that she can get out of there, and only after that extremely fails does she decide to try to fix the broken cycle. (Honestly, it would’ve been kinda neat if she HAD in fact been selfishly helping Wilson as a “well, sucks for you guys, but I gotta get home,” and then Joey’s insistence that we always have a chance to make a better choice would actually mean something and inform her decision to take the Reel as more than just “well I guess this is the option that I have left.”)

Anyway, DESPITE THIS CRITICAL PARAGRAPH this is all fine for a player character who basically just needs to go from task to task; I think she’s likeable and I enjoy her interactions. But it does feel like a lot of times she’s just doing the next thing she’s been handed, to me, and it’s harder to make that a part of her personality than it was for Henry. It’d be neat to see a little more of Joey in Joey Drew’s daughter.

[fangirlwriting-stories]

They Say You Can't Fight Fate (I Say Fucking Watch Me)

Summary: Remus decided a long time ago that if he ever met his soulmate he'd fuck them up.  It's only fair to return the favor, after all of the bullshit they've put him through.

Well, in all fairness, that's more his parents fault.  But blaming them didn't get him out of this place either.

Author’s Note: You know what time it is, that's right it's time to explore what a fucking nightmare it would be to live in a society with actual soulmates!  Vis-a-vis some Remus and Roman angst this time!

Also just for the record, I haven't finished this one yet and I'm not entirely sure if I will, but I've decided I like what I've written enough to post anyway!  To be clear I am still planning on finishing it as of now, I've just stopped actively working on it and I decided I didn't want to wait and see if I finished it or not.  As of now there are six chapters, and I will post all of them if nothing else!  Check the tags on this one, there's some bad stuff in here.

...

The part Remus couldn’t ever get over is that when he was younger, he was fine.  Ask anyone, he was a happy kid.   He and Roman liked playing pretend, wrestling for fun, drawing or writing together, running around together in the rain and getting absolutely soaked.  Remus was bright eyed and optimistic and hopeful and ready for a happy future and a fulfilling life.

It was all absolutely the fucking soulmates fault.  Whoever they were, Remus was never going to forgive them.

“Please don’t jump.”  That had to be the first thing they said to him.  They couldn’t have said “Hey, why don’t we go get some ice cream instead of this?” or “Hey, can we talk for a bit first?”

Or maybe they were talking about skydiving!  Maybe Remus was going to develop a passion for skydiving and meet his soulmate, the scaredy-cat who’s having second thoughts right before they jump completely safely out of the plane!  That sounded right up his alley, didn’t it?  That sounded like him!

Or it had.  Up until his parents shoved him into this clinical emotionless condescending hellhole and turned Remus’ life into the ultimate self-fulfilling prophecy.

Because the thing is, if you explain to someone over and over and over again that you’re fine, and you don’t feel like you have any mental issues, and they never believe you?  Well.  That can fuck with someone in the head a little bit.

Either way, it meant Remus had spent most of his life in this stupid fucking hospital, and he wasn’t going to get out for the foreseeable future.  Probably not ever, because no one ever believed him.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true.  Roman believed him.  Roman had been there the first time they’d asked Remus if he thought about hurting himself, and Roman had given them a baffled look because Remus told him everything, obviously, and if Remus had been bothered by something he would have told him.

Roman had just a tad bit more luck than Remus in the soulmark department.  His wrist said “I love you, you know that?”

Meaning everyone thought he was going to have just the most peachy soulmate story ever.  Someone who was starry-eyed from the second they met him.  How could anyone with such a soulmark have any problems whatsoever?  Never mind Roman’s crippling insecurity and desperation for attention, which Remus had to do his best to help Roman with alone, because no one else was ever going to bother trying.

Instead, Roman was there as no one believed Remus when he explained that no, he really was fine, he was good, why was that so hard to believe?  Roman had backed up his story, seeming baffled that none of them understood that.

He’d protested alongside Remus when he started seeing therapists he didn’t need and Roman wanted, and eventually when Remus was sent away to a psych hospital that neither of them needed.  But the two of them backing each other up had apparently never been enough, and now Remus was here and got to see Roman once every two weeks as if that was enough to stop feeling bitter about Roman growing up without him.

His one consolation was that Roman hated it just as much as he did.  He’d never come with news that he’d made friends, even though he had to have.  He never told Remus that he’d gotten the lead role in a school play, even though his parents had told Remus earlier that visit.  He never told Remus that he’d gotten his drivers license, despite his parents raving about how proud they were.  Instead, they talked about creative projects they’d been working on together since the last time Roman was there, they watched TV shows on the phone Roman brought with him that Remus wasn’t allowed to have.  It was like Roman had decided that while he was there, his life consisted of Remus.

Remus adored him for it.  He could imagine just how quickly he’d come to hate Roman if he started telling Remus about the life he was living without him.  He wanted Roman to have one, obviously.  But he also didn’t want to hate him.  And he still wanted to be part of it.  So Roman found a way to, as best he could, say that Remus still was.

Remus just wished it could be enough.

But it wasn’t.

No amount of working on stories and paintings with Roman could change the fact that he was here every day, had no choice or chance to get out, and no one believed that he didn’t want to fucking kill himself.

Remus imagined that it was all of this put together that first made him start considering the idea.

Not seriously, not at first.  Just a little sarcastic laugh of a thought, “Why don’t you just prove ‘em all right then, if they’re going to think they are either way?”

Heh, yeah.

Hey… yeah.

What did he have to look forward to anyway, really?  It’s not like he was getting out of here at eighteen.  His parents still got to control that.  He wasn’t mentally well enough to make the decision.  Because he was never mentally goddamn well enough to make the fucking decision.  And he never would be, because no one would ever let him be.

And he wanted out of here.

The idea made more sense the more Remus thought about it, and there wasn’t much else to think about in here.  He was sure Roman picked up on something being wrong (or at least more wrong than usual), but he didn’t tell him.  He trusted Roman, but he also trusted that if he admitted to Roman what he was thinking, Roman would tell someone.  And then everyone would feel vindicated in shoving Remus in here.  And then Roman would start wondering if he was wrong to have Remus’ back.  And Remus could not lose him.

So he said nothing.  And Roman said nothing.  And Remus stumbled his way into a plan.

Visiting time was good.  Roman and him had worked out years ago that if Remus didn’t show up right away, he was sneaking some kind of contraband that would make his life a little more bearable, and Roman shouldn’t say anything.

So Remus, minutes before visiting started when the orderlies were getting everyone else ready, slipped into the stairwell.

There wasn’t exactly easy access to the roof for obvious reasons, but Remus knew how to break a window from the top floor.  And he was pretty sure it was just high enough to work.

So why couldn’t he force himself to throw the damn rock at the window?

He’d been staring at the window opposite the top of the stairs for at least fifteen minutes now, trying to figure out why he couldn’t throw the thing.  It’s not like he had all the time in the world.  And this was probably his only chance, because once someone found him here, he’d be watched much more closely.  So he really should throw the rock right about now.

Do it.  Throw it at the window.  Now.

…Except he didn’t want to die.  Even now, he didn’t want to die.  He’d never wanted to fucking die.

Remus set the rock gingerly on the window sill and buried his head in his hands.  Why couldn’t he just want to fucking die?  Wasn’t he now trying to do what everyone expected of him?  Wasn’t that supposed to be a good thing?

Footsteps on the stairs behind him.  Remus reached out and picked up the rock, looking numbly out the window instead of behind him at the person.

But then Roman’s voice said, “Remus,” gasping and panicked, so he set the rock back down on the windowsill.

Roman wrapped his arms around him from behind.  “You didn’t show up after ten minutes,” Roman murmured into his shoulder.  “What are you doing here?”  He asked it like he already suspected the answer.  Remus didn’t give him another one.

“Remus,” Roman said.  “Please—”

“Don’t,” Remus snapped.  “You dare.”

“I wasn’t,” Roman said, sounding almost surprised.  “I wouldn’t.  I was going to say ‘please come back with me.’”

Remus shook his head.  “No.”

“Remus—”

“No, Roman.  I’m done.”

“You can’t be,” Roman said.  “Remus, you can’t be done.”

“Why not?”

“Remus,” Roman said, sounding scared, desperate.  “Remus, please, I can’t lose you.”

“The hell are you talking about, you’ll be fine,” Remus snapped, gesturing down vaguely towards Roman’s wrist.

“No I won’t,” Roman said.  “Don’t tell me that, don’t tell me how I feel, I—” Remus tensed, and he stopped.

“I’m sorry,” Roman whispered.

“I can’t spend another day there while they try to find out what secret trauma I have hidden away as if it’s not them,” Remus spat.  “I can’t do it.”

Roman didn’t say anything, just squeezed Remus tightly.

“I can’t do it Roman,” Remus whispered.  “I don’t want to die, but I can’t live like this anymore.”

“So,” Roman said suddenly.  “So don’t.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Let’s leave.  Let’s run.”

“What, you think it’ll be different somewhere else?”

“It will if you already have your soulmate.”

“I don’t,” Remus said.  “They’ll never let me meet them anyway, not while I’m here.”

“I’ll be your soulmate,” Roman said.  “I’ll do it for you.”

Remus gave him a look.  “You can’t just do that.”

Roman gave him a very firm look back, took his wrist gently in his hand, and said honestly, sincerely, and worriedly, “Please don’t jump.”

Remus looked at him for a very long time, but didn’t say anything.  Finally, Roman gently offered his own wrist out to Remus.

A million protests ran through Remus’ head.  Roman couldn’t give up his perfect soulmate story just for his stupid fucked up institutionalized brother.  Roman had a person out there waiting, someone who probably loved him romantically, instead of just the stupid platonic soulmate like Remus would be, that most people didn’t even want in the first place.  Roman couldn’t just run off with him, how would they live, neither of them had jobs.  Roman would be leaving friends and school and a potential future behind.  Remus couldn’t take any of that from him just because he was tired and miserable.

Roman nudged him gently with his wrist, cutting off all his protests.

Remus turned and met his eyes.  Roman was looking at him with nothing but love and determination.

Remus’ eyes well up with tears.  “I love you, you know that?” he whispered, completely genuinely.

Roman nodded and pulled Remus into his arms, and they both sat there for a while.  They’d have a million details to work out, but there was still another half hour left for visiting, and for right now Remus was going to sit here with his brother.

...

Chapter Two

[okdeedee]

here i am

cassian andor x gn! reader - 6th installment of latch

masterlist

a/n: alright besties here's another chapter. life day celebrations And other things aka gratuitous party ish scene + Angst + the power of friendship. IN WHICH;;;,,,, cassian andor plays the role of mr darcy for a bit. title from stuck in the middle with you by stealer's wheel because,,, clowns to the left of me. jokers to the right. here i am, stuck in the middle with you.

content? warning?: shara bey and kes dameron cameo x. the introduction of another oc who i Love. she's a 6 foot 9 or 2.05m tall devaronian menace. angst. swearing. ramping up that sexual tension but no smut Probably Ever because i just wont. drinking moderately in a social context, no drunkenness or alcoholism. kissing! amorous touches! this was written with almost exclusively rosalía's motomami album playing in the bg so just keep that in mind. jk.

wc: 10.2k HUH

It’s Life Day, and other than essential personnel, the base is off-duty.

Unless, of course, there is a catastrophe, but everyone has decided there won’t be. You all need a break.

You and some of the mech crew are deemed essential personnel, but just in the morning. There are some Y-Wings that need repair before a mission tomorrow.

You’re working on Shara’s ship – she’s become a fun friend to have around. You hold similar opinions on repairs and mods, and she’s interesting to talk to – always complaining about that soldier Kes, who keeps asking her out.

You know she likes him; she just wants to string him on a bit. The thought of it makes you laugh.

Only a few other mechs are scattered around.

One of them is Lakan, a middle-aged Besalisk who was an engineer before he joined the Rebellion. He helped a lot in your first couple months – he’s endlessly patient and deeply affectionate. It’s sort of like having a father again, and he greets you with his crushing four armed hugs every time you see him.

Another is a younger Togruta individual with vivid blue skin called Eyroa – they’re something of a prodigy, and the sort of being that seems to know what you need before you ask for it. They’re often handing you a different sized servodriver or a drill-bit with a shy smile.

The other mech present this morning is Greda, the Devaronian you have become good friends with. She’s ridiculously tall and covered in tattoos. Her skin is a deep green, her hair is blonde and short – you still haven’t worked up the nerve to ask if it’s natural or not – and she is a complete nuisance.

Greda likes to wear earplugs while she’s working; she says she gets her best work done when she isn’t distracted by other people. Your friendship started on your second day of work as a mechanic, when she approached you right as you were going on your lunch break. You weren’t sure who she was because she’d been holed up working on a Hammerhead Corvette so you hadn’t met her yet, but you were quickly very glad to know her.

Not here today are the following:

Your fellow humans: Yemmi, an older man who is a notorious flirt, Manala and Hasset, the twins who never stop talking, and Riekk, the Bith, who plays a beautiful new genre of music through his speaker every workday.

They’re good co-workers. They were welcoming when you arrived, and you’re fond of all of them.

Greda, however, is being a pain today.

She’s always a pest, but since it’s a holiday, she’s decided she’s going to wreak havoc upon your morning instead of actually getting work done, which is a first for her.

She picks strange hills to die on.

Right now, she’s sitting on top of Shara’s Y-Wing, kicking her feet, and ranting about something. You zoned out five minutes ago and now her deep, resonant voice is just a buzz in your ear.

You hold out a wrench to her so you can root through your toolbox with both hands, and she takes it without thinking, not pausing in her speech.

You find what you need, but you leave the wrench in her hand. If she’s not going to work, she can at least be useful as a tool stand.

A few minutes later, she stops talking and looks at the wrench in her hand.

“Did you give me this?”

“Yeah, like five minutes ago.”

“I’ll drop it on you.”

You laugh. “I thought you were anti-violence. That’s why you’re a mechanic.”

She huffs and jumps off the Y-Wing. “You’re not being fun today.”

You grunt as you pull a panel of the engine off. “I’m more fun when I’m not being interrupted during work.”

She raises her hands in surrender. “Apologies, my liege.”

You swat her with a rag you had in your pocket. “Enough from you,” you reprimand.

Greda starts to walk away, whistling some annoying little song.

“I’ll see you at the bonfire tonight, though, right?”

“Yeah! See you then!”

She disappears into the hull of a G-75, then there is blessed silence, because Lakan works without music.

You find yourself thinking about Cassian, wondering what he’s doing with his day off.

He visits you in the hangars often, just to say hi, or to keep you company for a bit. You feel honoured to receive his individual attention. You’re flustered by it, too.

No matter how hard you try, you can’t quite get used to the intensity in his eyes when he’s focussed on you. You find yourself looking at his lips, or the line of his jaw, or the sweeping length of his eyelashes more often than not these days.

Flustered or not, you cherish those visits – like the one several months ago where you talked about Onderon, and you kissed each other’s hands. It still brings heat to your face and a thrill through your body just to think about it.

Or the one last week where Cassian told you about his childhood and his family.

The hardest are the weeks when Cassian can’t visit at all because he’s on a long mission.

He’s one of the best operatives the Rebellion has. He’s ruthless, efficient, and observant. He’s killed people just to be able to get back home.

You know how good he is at this work, but you’re still terrified that each time he visits will be the last.

A dozen times, he’s come back bruised and battered, and you hold him extra-gently and extra-long in your arms.

Once, he was rushed to the med centre for carbon dioxide poisoning. You stayed by his bedside for a full 18 hours.

You love him wholeheartedly. He’s your best friend. You’re not sure what that means in the long run, but for now it means he has to come back alive from all of his missions, so you get more time to figure it out.

And maybe one day, tell him.

.

Cassian actually has things to do on this day off. Leisurely things.

He and Melshi are going to sit down and have caf and talk, of all things. They’re both off today, and he hasn’t really spoken to Melshi in a couple months because of conflicting schedules, so that will be nice, he thinks.

A year ago, he probably would have baulked at the idea – Melshi is a friend he made out of necessity; a brother-in-arms – not that he doesn’t like him or enjoy spending time with him.

It’s just that they became friends by escaping a slave-labour prison and establishing trust by clinging on a cliffside together for hours, not by discussing their mutual interests.

He used to do it all the time on Ferrix. He’d walk to Brasso’s work just to catch him before he went home, he’d hang out with Bix, deliver something from Maarva to Jezzi, shoot the shit with Xanwan while he was waiting for a transport.

The rebel base on Yavin 4 doesn’t quite have that same homely feeling yet.

Now, he’s warmed again to the idea of talking, visiting people just to see them, thanks to his constant need to see you.

It’s ridiculous how often he finds time to visit the hangar. The first few times, he pretended it was because he had something else to do and he just happened to run into you, but he can’t be bothered to lie anymore.

You always greet him with a smile and touch his arm with your hand, or if he’s coming back after a mission, you’ll hug him.

What you don’t know is that Cassian comes to the hangar most days he’s on base, but he’ll only talk to you if you’re alone.

Often, you’re talking to Shara Bey about her Y-Wing (or about that ground soldier, Kes, that keeps hitting on her), or chatting across the hangar to one of the other mechanics. Sometimes, you just look like you’re concentrating really hard, and he doesn’t want to disturb you.

He gets embarrassed for some reason and walks away with a little ache in his chest.

Cassian is still bewildered by how obviously overjoyed you are to see him every time he visits. He’s not sure what he did to deserve the smiles you send his way – you smile with your whole being. It’s like being a plant in the sun; like he needs it to get through the day.

He’s pretty sure he’s in love with you.

He doesn’t expect to ever tell you, doesn’t entertain thoughts of crossing the physical boundaries the two of you have. He only dreams of you once every month or so, and that’s out of his control.

He’d rather never tell you he loves you that way than chance losing your companionship. If he made you uncomfortable and you drifted apart, he’d be so shattered that he’d probably become more reckless than usual with his work.

If he dies on a mission one of these days, he doesn’t think he’ll regret that decision.

The rebellion always comes first, now.

.

It’s evening, and Life Day festivities are starting.

Some of the more artistically inclined members of the Rebellion have decorated a sizeable part of the runway outside the temple.

There are random different sizes and kinds of lamps hanging on wires that are precariously strung between generators and trees, scraps of spare fabric (mostly orange, likely from pilots’ jumpsuits), and a massive bonfire being constructed in the centre of the clearing.

There are a few fold-out tables laden with portions of vastly contrasting foods in mismatched containers or piled on mess-hall trays.

For the last couple of weeks, a lot of the rebels who went off-world for missions or recon made pit-stops to pick up different ingredients for cultural delicacies they wanted to make for Life Day.

You smile to see a couple dishes your pilot friends mentioned in passing on the table.

There’s jaunty music playing at an agreeable volume through the runway PA system.

You watch over the next half an hour as more of your comrades fill the space, bringing food or musical instruments, some not in uniform, all relaxed and happy.

The bonfire is lit, during which there’s a song sung by some of the rebels in a language you don’t recognise, but you don’t mind – you feel a part of it regardless.

You’re basking in the joy and freedom of this night until someone practically tackles you from behind and you stumble.

“Hey, babycakes,” Greda says, a little too loud right next to your ear.

You grunt trying to bear her weight. You shove her off, laughing. “Babycakes?”

“Just trying something new,” she says breezily, “you like it?”

You shake your head, but get distracted by watching everyone mingle, unable to keep the smile off your face.

The two of you stand there, soaking it in, until Greda gets fidgety.

She hums that annoying song from this morning and circles you like a loth-wolf, looking around at everything, until she stops and pokes your shoulder over, and over, and over again.

“Greda, what the hell are you doing?”

“Who’s the little grumpy dude watching you from the corner?”

Your head whips around. “Where?”

She points to a dark corner of the runway, right near a path into the forest. You follow her hand and at the end of it is Cassian Andor. He glances away as soon as you clock him.

Shit.

You yank her hand down and give her your fiercest glare.

“Stars and planets, Greda, are you allergic to discretion?”

She grins. “Oh, calm down. Who is it? So tiny and angry.”

You huff. “Everyone’s tiny to you, you’re almost seven feet tall.”

“Still.”

You turn her away from him and watch him over her shoulder. You feel flustered, all of a sudden. “That’s Cassian. He’s – uh – we –”

“So, you’re on a first name basis with the Captain Andor? Interesting.”

You frown, and Greda has a mischievous glint in her eye, and you’re realising this is probably a set up.

“You just implied you didn’t know who he was.”

“That’s on you. Everyone knows who he is. I was just trying to figure out if you knew him.”

You shove her with your hip. “Asshole. Why do you care?”

Greda grabs your hands and swings them between you like you’re dancing.

“Because,” she says in a sing-song voice, “you’re so mysterious, and I can’t tell if you have any friends. I wanted to know if you knew him because he was looking at you like he wanted to take all your clothes off.”

“I have plenty of friends – and I’ve known you for months now, I would have thought you count,” you say, taking control and swinging her arms more violently.

“You didn’t deny that he looked like he wanted to take your clothes off,”

“I wasn’t planning on dignifying that with a response, you perv. And how did you not notice Cassian and I were friends? He visits the hangars like twice a week.”

“I don’t know, I’m busy. I don’t really pay attention to other people,”

You scoff. “Next time you accuse me of being mysterious, get your head out of your narcissistic ass first.”

She makes an exaggerated sad face. “You’re not nearly drunk enough for me to lead this conversation where I want it to go.”

“I’m stone-cold sober, Greda.”

“Exactly.”

Then Lakan and Yemmi join you, so that conversation trails off.

You haven’t had easy, relaxed fun like this in a long time, so despite her threat, when Greda offers you your first drink of the night (with no repayment in order), you take it.

You dance with all of the mech crew in a big, messy circle, copying each other’s moves and tripping over yourselves. Manala and Hasset try to teach you a dance they made up as children, but it’s really quite intricate. The two women can’t stop laughing at you.

Later, when you get a rush of self-confidence, you leave your crew and go chat to Bassa who’s standing by the fire. She’s gruff, as always, and pretends she’s not happy to see you.

You know she is – you can tell by the extra crinkles around her eyes that she’s doing her version of smiling.

She tells you about a couple of her recent missions, and retires pretty early, bemoaning old age.

Greda offers you a second drink maybe an hour later. You accept.

By about 2100, you’re relaxed, just a little bit buzzed, but you still have top-notch fine motor control. 

You’re sitting with Greda, cross-legged on the ground. For all her tomfoolery, you trust her.

She just has a cheeky streak half the galaxy wide.

You find yourself thinking that if she were to ask you about Cassian, you might tell her the truth. You’ve never told anyone about him – your friendship, your feelings.

You haven’t had enough to drink for that thought to be the alcohol talking, so you’re pretty sure you actually want to tell her.

At that moment, Cassian walks by. You say “Hey,” too quietly and reprimand yourself internally, but he hears you and turns his head.

“Hey,” he responds, a little more rigidly than usual.

Silence.

You smile awkwardly and look between him and Greda.

“This is Greda. She’s part of mech crew. Greda, Cassian. Cassian, Greda.”

Cassian acknowledges her with a nod. She grins, nods back.

“What are you drinking?” He asks.

You open your mouth to speak, but Greda interrupts, “Corellian Rum and some kind of soda I nicked. I needed our Wompy to relax a little. You know how it is. It’s been a difficult few months.”

You gape at her incredulously.

“How have I not been relaxed? And more importantly, how do you know about that fucking nickname?”

Cassian smiles, just barely. His dimple is just visible from this angle. Your face gets warmer.

 “A little birdie told me.”

You groan. “Bassa?”

“Indeed. A few months ago. I was just keeping it for the right moment.”

You cover your face with your hands.

There’s a pause. You see Cassian’s feet shift through a gap in your fingers, and you hear him sigh.

Your heart sinks just a touch – he’s probably not interested in this conversation, and he’s not super sociable so he won’t sit down and talk to you and Greda.

“Sorry, Cass, you were going somewhere. I interrupted.”

“No, it’s okay – I’m just… I was just leaving.” He shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Ah. Well. Have a good night,” you try.

He nods. “Thank you. You too.”

With that, he walks away.

You sigh out deeply.

Greda starts cackling. “What in the seven hells was that?”

You punch her shoulder. “Shut up, shut up, shut up,” you mumble under her laughter.

“No, really. What just happened? You call him Cass? Cute. But I thought you were friends? That was so awkward. And he just stood there staring at you.”

You tilt your head back and look at the stars, trying to find something to get you out of this.

You find nothing, except your mind’s eye replaying the image of Cassian smiling in the firelight.

“I think he’s the love of my life,” you say before you can think.

Greda stops laughing abruptly.

“Oh, my gods.”

She turns to you and her face is serious. You stare back blankly, “What?”

Greda starts ranting in her mother tongue - by the tone of her voice, you think she’s swearing.

She finishes her tirade in Basic:

“Really? Andor? He’s so cranky and you’re so… likeable.”

Something blooms in your chest at the confirmation that Greda, who likes just about no one, likes you. You smile at the ground.

“Why?”

Your mind floods with a ridiculously detailed montage of interactions with Cassian over the last year and you can’t help the beaming smile that appears on your face.

Greda groans in disgust.

“Shut up. Cassian’s been there for me ever since I joined the Rebellion. He’s… intelligent. He’s very good at what he does. He’s easy to talk to.”

“You sound like you’re recommending him for a job.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “You are not making this easy. I can end this conversation whenever I want.”

She has the decency to look a bit sheepish. “Sorry.”

“We trust each other. He’s got a very gentle heart underneath it all. And… he’s – he’s very-”

“What?”

Your whole body feels warm. “I like his face.”

She snickers. “He is pretty. In sort of a depressed, haunted loth-cat way.”

“I can’t stand you.”

You shove your foot into her shin, but it doesn’t hurt her. All it does is throw you off balance, and you topple backwards and end up flat on the ground.

Her giggling turns into fully fledged booming laughter.

“You are such a child,” you reprimand through your own giggles.

Greda doubles over and slaps your leg repeatedly, laughing so hard she’s silently shaking. 

Fucking Devaronians.

.

Cassian comes to see you in the upper hangar two nights later and thank the stars, you’re alone.

He’s pretty sure you’re working on Shara’s astromech, an R5 unit.

There are droids that do that sort of work so you don’t really have to, but he remembers you saying you were happy to help and you needed the practice, and Shara was happy to lend a her droid to you.

The speaker next to you is playing soft music, and you’re sitting cross legged on the floor in the lamplight.

Cassian can hear you talking the astromech gently through what you’re doing – it’s powered down, so talking to it is completely redundant, but he’s endeared by your kindness.

He doesn’t want to ruin your peace, but he needs to ask you something.

He’s about to greet you when you turn to get something and see him approaching.

You give him a tired smile and his heart races.

“Hey, Cass,” you say. You reach out your hand up him and he instinctively takes it. You give his hand a squeeze and sigh contently.

“Hi,” he says, trying to keep his voice soft.

“What brings you here? It’s so late,” 

He takes a fortifying breath and says what he came here to say.

“Would you do me a massive favour?” He asks.

You nod immediately. “Yeah, ‘course.”

“I just – I need a mech, for an operation next week, and they said to pick anyone I wanted, and I want you,” his face flushes, “I mean - I wanted to ask you. I know you don’t like active combat. You’re not gonna be in danger.”

Wariness takes over your face. A mission?

“Tell me more.”

.

The plan is to land near a city on Numidian Prime. Cassian will go into the city undercover, into one of its many gambling hubs, and try to gamble information from someone who knows someone who’s supposed to know the whereabouts of a Rebel informant who’s recently gone missing.

This informant is vital to the function of the Rebellion, it seems.

The mission is somewhat complicated for Cassian, but your role in it isn’t too stressful. The Rebel Alliance has an old U-Wing model that, with a little paint job, can pass as the sort of vintage ship a rich gambler might own instead of an Alliance ship – the latter of which could cause a lot of problems. The only shortcoming is that because of its age, it can really only survive one trip into hyperspace before repairs have to be made.

Which is where you come in.

As soon as Cassian leaves the ship, you need to get to work on repairing it, replacing any parts necessary (which might require a trip into town yourself) and making sure it’s ready to fly back to Yavin 4.

Despite the importance of the operation, it isn’t particularly intense. No one bats an eye at another souped-up looking ship on a planet filled with smugglers and gamblers in hiding, and Numidian Prime doesn’t have a government or law-enforcement agency that might enforce a parking fine or impoundment – or even check the details of ships that land there.

Cassian looks like he’s worried you’ll say no.

The thought did cross your mind, but you’d much rather be with Cassian on a mission in a non-combat capacity than stay on Yavin 4 and hope he’s alright.

Your only qualm with the whole situation is really his choice of mech.

“Why me?”

That seems to be the last thing he was expecting you to say. “What do you mean?”

You shrug. “Lakan has years more experience than me, Eyroa’s practically psychic when it comes to ship diagnostics. Riekk is much more efficient than the rest of us.”

There Cassian goes again, with his earnest face. He strokes your hand with his thumb.

“Because I trust you.”

You chew on your lip.

“Okay.”

.

There are a couple meetings over the next three days. You, Greda and Eyroa spend your spare moments detailing the old U-Wing, painting and buffing so it attracts normal, ship-enthusiast attention on Numidian Prime.

It’s interesting being part of mission briefs again, after a year and a bit off. You listen raptly and are incredibly thankful you don’t have to do what Cassian does.

His alias is a man called Dimik Kayo – a man who frequents the casinos of Canto Bight but is looking for more high-stakes and tucked away places to make money. Thus, Numidian Prime.

They gave him some clothes to wear during the mission, and he won’t show you, but he doesn’t seem pleased. You’re sort of morbidly excited to see how bad the outfit is.

The day comes, you get in the U-Wing with as many tools and parts as your mech team can spare and get on your way.

.

The flight is relatively short, only a day and a half. Cassian spends a fair amount of it sleeping; he’s just off the back of a last-minute mission and hasn’t slept for a couple days. You amuse yourself by watching him or going through the Mechanic’s Manual for the U-Wing.

As expected, the landing on Numidian Prime is easy. You’re a couple kliks out from the main city in a clearing, surrounded by trees. No one comms in and asks for identification – one of the perks of dodgy planets.

Cassian’s getting changed. You wait in the copilot’s seat, your back to him. You’re completely silent - you feel anxious about the mission and just nervous in general.

Then you hear the click of dress shoes walking towards you. 

“This is as good as it’s gonna get.” 

You turn around, and as soon as you set eyes on Cassian, you’re filled with an all-encompassing want.

You’ve always thought of Cassian as attractive. He’s a beautiful man and a good person, and those big brown eyes of his definitely don’t hurt. 

But the difference between this moment and every other time you’ve interacted with Cassian is that - it’s just -  

It turns out that Cassian Andor is hot. 

He’s tried to comb his hair back, but it’s still pretty messy. His facial hair is grown out at the moment, but he’s just trimmed it, so his cheekbones and jaw look extra sharp. 

And the clothes he’s wearing. A muted, dark blue suit jacket with a high rounded collar, with the top two out of six buttons undone. You can see the entirety of his clavicle and some of his chest. The sleeves are tight, and they make him look particularly built. 

The same with the legs of his trousers. They’re snug around his thighs, and you have to tear your eyes away. You can hear your pulse in your ears. 

‘As good as it’s going to get’ is … very good. 

Stars, he’s so hot your tongue feels numb. 

He’s talking, but there might as well be static in your ears. 

His hands. 

There are rings on his fingers. 

Half of your mind is taken up by a montage of all the places you want his hands to touch you, the other half sounding the alarm that it is not ideal to desire your best friend carnally, it will lead to a wealth of problems. 

He takes a step closer, and you can smell him, the cologne he just put on, and if you weren’t already sitting your knees would give out from under you - 

“Are you listening?” 

You snap your mouth closed. “Hm?” 

“I’ll call you ‘Wompy’ just to annoy you into paying attention.”

You’re sort of thinking he can call you anything he wants when he looks like that, but instead you say, “I’ll kick you in the shins if you do,” uncharacteristically combatively. 

He frowns, a little concerned.

You curse internally; you’ve been thrown off your rhythm. 

“Sorry,” you wave a hand in the air vaguely, “lost in thought. What were you saying?” 

.

You’re acting weird. 

You’re fidgeting in a way Cassian hasn’t seen from you since that first time you spoke in the forest of Yavin 4 after Nar Shaddaa. The last few things you’ve said have gone just a touch past your usual level of banter into defensiveness. 

While he was talking through the order of operations, it seemed like you were zoning out. 

Cassian’s attaching his comm to his inside jacket pocket, tucking a blaster in his boot, watching you in his peripheral vision. You look deep in thought, one of your legs bouncing up and down. 

Nervous? 

He turns slightly towards you, debating on whether to talk to you or not.

You glance up like you feel his eyes on you. He watches your eyes scan his body from head to toe, and he feels his face heat up. 

He feels ridiculous in this getup, it’s a lot less coverage than he’s accustomed to wearing when he’s working, and it’s like half of his torso is on display. 

Cassian was already feeling unsettled, and now you’re acting strange, and he needs to sort this out, otherwise he’ll just be worried about you for the whole mission.

He runs a hand through his hair (freshly gelled, which feels slimy and disgusting) as he makes his way over to you. Then there’s residue on his hand and he can’t wipe it off on his trousers, so he just stares at his hand, standing in front of you. 

Force, what is going on today? 

“You want a cloth for that?” You ask, cutting through his mile-a-minute thoughts.

He nods. “Please.” 

.

So you stand up to get a cloth without factoring in his proximity to you, and suddenly you are almost chest to chest. You put your arms out in front of you to brace yourself and they land on each side of the deep V of his suit jacket. 

He’s warm. You stare at his neck for a second to gather your wits, which doesn’t work very well because his neck is just as nice as his…everything else.

Then you look up, and he’s already gazing intently at your face. 

He’s very close. And his eyes are so beautiful. 

You have the compulsion to chew on your lip out of pure stress, but what if that’s weird and Cassian notices, so you just purse your lips in to stop yourself from doing anything stupid with them. 

Cassian immediately looks at your lips and you feel your entire body go stiff. 

He frowns, and the hand that isn’t covered in hair gel comes up and squeezes your upper arm. 

“Is everything alright?” He asks softly. You can feel his breath on your face. 

You let out the most stupid, timid “yep” of your life and you want the ground below you to cave in.

He searches your face. “Come on. Tell me.” 

You let out a sharp sigh. You have no idea how to get out of this. 

His hand moves from your shoulder to the side of your neck, and it practically sends sparks through your entire body. “Are you nervous?”

Silence.

.

Cassian starts to stroke your cheek with his thumb without thinking. He just wants that eopie-in-the-headlights expression on your face to fall away. “This is an easy mission. Plus, I’ll have you in my ear the whole time. You don’t need to be nervous-”

“Maker, Cassian, don’t do that!” You push him away, and that comforting warmth of your hands on his chest disappears. 

He’s scrambling, trying to figure out if he overstepped - he doesn’t think he did, he’s touched your face before. 

You rub your hands over your face vigorously. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.” 

Something in his chest aches to see you out of sorts like this. You laugh a little bitterly, which confuses him even more. Then you look at him and take a deep breath. 

“I am nervous. Not about the mission. It’s fine. I’m sorry I’m being so weird. Don’t worry.” 

“What are you nervous about?”  

You look flustered, and you indicate to him with a vague wave of your arm.

“Me?” 

You cringe. “Yes.” 

His mind is racing. “Did I do something wrong?” 

.

You can see Cassian is panicking that he’s made you uncomfortable, and you shouldn’t have said anything, but he needs to know he hasn’t done anything wrong, so you say:

“You -” you gesture uselessly, “you look… You look really good and I’m…just sort of…”

Realisation dawns on Cassian’s face, but he’s still and silent. 

You can’t stop yourself now that you’ve started. “Like, stars, Cassian, do you think they made your sleeves tight enough? And those stupid rings? And they really picked the right colour for the suit, didn’t they?” 

Cassian’s got a tiny, incredulous smile on his face as he looks at you. His eyes are bright. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you say in an embarrassingly weak voice. 

That smile turns into one of those stupid little smirks he does. 

There is a long pause, where you’re just looking at each other. 

.

“You really like this outfit?” He asks. 

You groan and cover your face with your hands, muttering a muffled “I hate you.” 

Outside, he looks calm enough. Inside, his heart is racing, his body feels too hot, and he thinks he’s going to lose his balance. 

You, the most gorgeous, radiant person he has ever seen, are flustered by him in formal wear. You think he’s attractive, so much so that you��re stumbling over your words. 

He can’t help but laugh for the pure elation the idea brings him. 

You cringe and peek at him through your fingers. “Don’t laugh!” 

He schools his face. “I’m not-” You glare at him. “I am, I’m just. I’m not laughing at you.” 

You roll your eyes, set your jaw. There is a tiny hint of a smile on your face. “I’m getting you a cloth for your stupid hand.” 

He watches you walk away, eyes the lines of your body, the movement of your hips. It’s not the first time he’s done it, not by a long shot.

You return with the cloth and hold it out to him, arm completely outstretched for maximum distance between the two of you.

He takes your hand anyway and pulls you toward him, which makes you gasp. Cassian desperately wishes he didn’t have a mission to do right now. 

You shove the rag into the centre of his chest and yank your hand out of his grip.

“Go be good looking somewhere else.” 

Cassian feels like he’s about to jump out of his skin. 

Neither of you move. 

Cassian wipes the gel off his hand and tosses the rag on the floor.

You lean closer in. 

Stars above. 

He knows physical intimacy. He’s plenty experienced, but his hands are shaking anyway, because it’s you. 

Instinctively, Cassian reaches out, wraps an arm around your waist, pulls you against him. 

“Cass,” you warn, but you’re sliding your palms up the front of his suit jacket anyway. Cassian shudders and reaches his hand up to the side of your face. You press your cheek against his hand, and the movement exposes the wide expanse of the other side of your neck. 

He can’t hold back, not anymore, so he leans in and kisses you in that soft space just above your collarbone, once, before he can even think about it. You gasp softly, and one of your hands moves up to the back of his neck. 

He knows this is a good sign, so he kisses you again, a little higher. You make a gentle, breathy sound in the back of your throat that makes his heart trip. Another kiss, lingering, a little higher. You tilt your head further back for ease of access, and his hands squeeze involuntarily on your waist. He feels like it’s his first time kissing someone.

This time, when his lips meet your neck, he sucks on your skin for a second or two. 

.

Your mind is ridiculously hazy, overwhelmed entirely by the situation, but when he sucks on your neck you have a moment of clarity.

The mission. 

“Cassian Andor, don’t you dare start something you don’t have the time to finish.”

It comes out much more breathily than you would have planned - in your head you were more authoritative, but his beard feels so lovely against your skin and you can’t quite breathe. 

Cassian just shushes you, the bastard, and kisses along your jaw, getting closer to your lips. He pulls away, about to kiss you again, but you grab his chin and make him look you in the eyes. 

He looks flushed, his eyelids are half closed, and he’s breathing heavily. 

Whatever you were about to say goes into hyperspace and exits your mind. You open and close your mouth a few times, trying to come up with something to say. 

There’s a lazy smile on his face, like it’s fun for him to watch you struggle. You grip his chin a little harder and he laughs, breathy and low. 

“Cass-”

“I know,” he murmurs, drawing back. He doesn’t move his gaze from your lips, though. 

You pull his bottom lip down gently with your thumb. He makes a little pleading sound, which is probably the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.  

You let his lip go. “Kiss me again after the mission, gorgeous.” 

His jaw drops and you laugh deliriously in shock at yourself.

“Sorry. It slipped out,” you push him away and he takes a couple of wobbly steps backward. 

“Off you go.”

“You can’t just call me that and then tell me to leave,” he appeals. 

You’re still laughing. You cover your mouth with your hand. “The sooner you go, the sooner you can come back.” 

He stares you down affectionately with those ridiculously intense eyes of his, and it’s hard not to cave in and fall back into his arms. 

He shakes his head at you minutely and he’s trying not to smile. 

You’re still grappling with the events of the last five minutes, but you’re so elated it’s hard to focus. 

“Stop loitering,” you tease. 

He scoffs good-naturedly and walks backwards in the direction of the shuttle ramp. His gaze meanders up and down your body, which makes you feel like you’re on fire. 

Flirting. That’s new. 

“I’ll be talking in your ear for the entire mission. You won’t even have time to miss me.”

He meets your eyes. “I wouldn’t be so sure, angel.” 

You freeze, bewildered by his chosen term of endearment. Cassian’s rendered you speechless and he knows it, so he grins. A mischievous, joyful smile that makes your knees weak. 

He turns and walks down the ramp. Then he’s out of sight. 

Angel. 

The speaker crackles to life in the cockpit, and it’s just Cassian laughing over the comm. You're somewhat embarrassed, but you feel like you’re about to take flight or something. His laugh. 

“And you had the audacity to complain about me calling you gorgeous. What the fuck, Cass.” 

He’s still laughing as you pull out your toolboxes.

.

You both focus entirely on the mission, after that. You're both good at compartmentalising.

Cassian plays the role of a sleazy, womanizing gambler, and you hurriedly repair the ship.

Several hours later, the comm crackles on again.

.

“Success?” You ask. 

“Yeah. Coming back now.”

“Alright. I’m just replacing a floor panel, otherwise, I’m done.’

He makes a satisfied “hm.”

You grumble into the comm as you replace the floor panels of the shuttle, “That was fast on your end, though. You should dress up as a money hungry man-whore more often.” 

“Hey,” he reprimands.  

“What was this character’s name again?” You ask as you search your toolbox for a wrench. 

“Dimik. Kayo.” 

“Yikes,” you grunt as you put your bodyweight into tightening a bolt. 

“What’s wrong with ‘Dimik’?” Cassian asks. 

“Oh, you know…” 

It dawns on you while you’re talking with Cassian that this is all brand new. The comfortable, easy friendship you’ve developed has changed irreversibly, regardless of how things go when he gets back to the ship.

You trust Cassian. That’s the easy part. 

But romantic relationships are not particularly familiar to you, and you’re in the middle of a war, and the what ifs start piling up. You’re not sure you really want the newness when everything around you is already changing all the time. 

.

Cassian notices you trail off mid-sentence. He figures you need to concentrate fully on your work for a second. 

But after a minute or so of silence, he checks in. 

“Hey, are you okay?” 

A pause. 

“I’m gonna ask you something, and you have to answer me honestly,” you start softly. 

His heart thuds like a death knell in his chest. You sound solemn.  

“I would never lie to you.”

“Are we going to be alright? After…” everything that just happened. 

Cassian’s steps almost falter. “We are,” he says. 

Do you regret it? Do you want it to be a one-time thing? You said he could kiss you again when he gets back, but was that a joke? Heat of the moment?

He realises that the idea of not getting to kiss or hold you again is a source of stress, which throws him into a panic.

He’s not ready for this. You’re his best friend. Knowing you is easy, and integral to his life. Kissing you was easy – he enjoys it, he’s good at it. And he… likes you.

But those two components together are –

They’re daunting. He’s never wanted to give all of himself to a person before. He never felt he had much to give.

Your voice is timid as you say, “I can’t lose you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“You won’t. I - you won’t lose me.”

You hum, deep in thought. 

Cassian is still making his way to the shuttle. He waits for you to speak. 

“Okay,” you start, voice uneven. 

His heart just about melts. “Yeah?” 

“I - care about you a lot, okay, and I’m not sure I’m good at relationships. Romance.” You sigh. 

He wants to run back to the shuttle and wrap you tightly in his arms, but he thinks if he saw the look in your eyes right now, he wouldn’t know what to do, so he keeps walking at the same pace.

“This was so much more coherent in my head. I just want - I don’t want this to be weird. I don’t - I don’t want anything to change. Between us.” 

Cassian tries to stay calm, but his heart is sinking. So you do regret it? 

He asks in a very neutral voice, “As in, you don’t want to be more than friends?”

“Shit, no - sorry - stars, I’m doing a terrible job of this,” you mutter, “let me start again.” 

Cassian takes a deep breath. “Okay.” 

You curse quietly. 

“Okay. I love you, Cass. And I want you. Every part of you in any way I can get. But I’m not so familiar with dating or partnership and I really don’t want to fuck it up. Would we just be the same we’ve been but with … new physical aspects? Or is there something else I’ll need to be? I’m bad at flirting, I think I just turn mean. I don’t know how to be…sexy, or attractive, I don’t know. I think I’m scared that that’s what I need to bring to a relationship, and I won’t be able to, and you’ll leave eventually, and I will have lost my best friend. So.”

It’s like he’s floating in antigrav. Or like he’s high off some top-quality spice. “You love me.” 

You sigh gently but exasperatedly, “Yes, of course I do. Did you hear everything else I said, though?” 

Whoops. “Yes. I-” The shuttle comes into view. Shit. “- I did. I heard you.”

“You don’t have to respond right now. If you need time to think.” You’re making a valiant effort to accommodate him, but your voice is wobbly.

The thing is, at the heart of all his worry, Cassian knows this:

No one’s ever been as kind to him as you. No one’s ever been so considerate. No one’s as steadfast, as non-judgemental. He has never trusted a person like he trusts you. 

He knows he doesn’t deserve you. It’s selfish, but that won’t stop him from holding onto you until his dying breath. He decides in that moment that he wants to do whatever it takes to keep you by his side.

He reaches the hangar the ship is docked in. 

“I don’t need time to think.” 

He hears you take a shallow breath. “Okay.” 

.

You’re waiting for Cassian to speak when you hear footsteps up the ramp. You whirl around, about to grab something from your toolbox as a weapon, when you realise it’s Cassian, which in this very moment is scarier than if it was a random attacker.

You stand stock still. He takes his comm out and puts it in his pocket.

Your pulse is racing, and you can hear your blood in your ears. 

The two of you stand there a metre and a bit apart for what feels like a little eternity. 

Then Cassian takes a few purposeful steps towards you and takes you in his arms. 

He’s so warm, and he smells so good, so you tuck your face into his neck. His hand moves up to cradle the back of your head. 

“Hey,” he whispers. 

“Hi,” you say, muffled.

You can’t lose this. The feel of his arms around you, the warmth of his chest against yours.

But you need an answer now, so you whisper, “You said you didn’t need time to think.” 

Cassian’s fingers sift through your hair. “I don’t.” 

There is a pause. 

Then Cassian says gently in your ear;

“You don’t need to be anything you aren’t already. I love you because of who you were when I met you, who you are now. Who you’re always gonna be. Nothing else.”

He loves you. You’d fall to your knees if he wasn’t holding you up. You don’t know what to say, but you can’t leave him hanging. 

“Cassian-” 

“If it helps, I always thought you were attractive. Sexy.” 

You think you might die with his soft, raspy voice in your ear saying that. 

“And hey, if the physical stuff takes some time, I don’t mind. I want you, too, but I’m ready when you are. Any way you want me.” 

You tilt your head and whisper in his ear, “Andor, I’m gonna do something indecent if you keep talking to me like that.” 

He smiles, and you feel it against your cheek. “Like I said. I’m ready when you are.” 

He runs a hand through the hair at the nape of your neck, and you release him from your hold to put your hands on either side of his face. 

His expression is so soft. You can see the dimple on his left cheek, and his eyes are catching all sorts of light. 

This beautiful man. 

“You love me?” You ask, trying and failing to hide a smile. 

He lets out a nervous laugh. “Yeah, I do,” 

You make this funny sound, like halfway between a single laugh and a hiccup, because your body can’t quite process the joy you’re feeling.

Cassian snorts. “What was that?”

You shake your head giddily, grinning. “I don’t know!”

“Stop making weird sounds,” he murmurs. His eyes don’t leave your lips.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you mumble as you close the distance between you.

His lips are ridiculously soft, and they’re moving languidly against yours like you’ve got all the time in the world. His facial hair is a little scratchy, but in a pleasant way that makes your face feel hot.  

It goes like this for a minute or so - until his tongue runs across your lips. You gasp, and your hands fall from his face. You sling your arms around his neck while he licks into your mouth, filthy and slow.

You try to give back as good as you get, but stars, this man can kiss.

Suddenly, his lips aren’t on yours anymore, and he’s walking you back into the wall of the ship.  You hit the wall with a soft thud and then Cassian starts kissing your neck again.

You feel like a teenager again.

“Cassian,” you manage to choke out.

He grunts in response.

He lingers on one spot on your neck for so long you’re pretty sure there’s going to be a mark, which will be fun to explain when you get back to base.

Cassian’s hands start to roam all over you, and you’re getting a little restless. You pull his face back up to yours and kiss him again as fervently as you can manage.

You’re there for Force knows how long, exploring each other in this new way, until the pace slows and you’re both breathing heavily. You start to pull away, but Cassian bites your bottom lip and tugs on it a little.

You make a soft, surprised sound and he chuckles, low and gentle. You feel another wave of heat rush through your body.

He gives you one more searing kiss, steps back with a smug little smile on his face and starts to get the ship ready for take-off.

You flatten your palms against the wall. Your head falls back in a haze.

You look over at Cassian.

It seems like it’s his personal mission to make you swoon today, because he’s sitting in the pilot’s chair with his headphones on, his hair all messy, still in that suit. His posture is relaxed, his eyes are focussed on the switchboard before him.

You love to see this man in his element.

You stand there leaning against the wall of the ship in a daze while he goes about his work.

He’s about to take off, so he turns to you to tell you to take a seat, but he sees your expression and he stops. There’s a quizzical look on his face.

“What?” He asks.

His shoulders look so broad in that suit.

You have too many thoughts in your head to be able to pick one to say, so you stay silent and just keep following the lines of his body with your eyes.

He fiddles with his hands. He looks embarrassed or even a little shy, which sends a thrill running through you.

“Are you gonna sit down?”

You’ve succeeded in flustering the notoriously stern and unflappable Cassian Andor, and it feels fantastic. You do take a seat, but you don’t stop blatantly watching him. You can’t look away.

He shifts under your gaze, but he manages to take off and get the ship into the atmosphere without any issues.

You let yourself get lost in thought.

.

It’s been silent for a while, and Cassian is calculating the hyperspace route on a datapad. He’s finally feeling like he has control over the situation when you ask, “Are you planning on keeping the beard? It felt so nice on my neck.” 

Cassian drops his stylus, but he manages not to choke on air, so he thinks he handles that pretty well.  

He leans down to grab it, but you get there first. You offer him the stylus and your hand lingers on his for a second.

His hand shakes as he types in the coordinates. This is a lot to deal with. 

“Uh, maybe? It’s sort of annoying to take care of.”

“Hm.”

Is it warm on the ship? He checks climate control.

Maybe it’s just him. He undoes a button of his jacket and rolls up a sleeve.

He looks over to you while he’s working on his second sleeve and you’re still staring at him, a little dazed. Your eyes meet and you quickly look away. 

Cassian feels powerful, that he can make you look like that. He’s also terrified – did he make the wrong choice? Are you better without him?

The screen flashes to notify him that the engines are ready, so he pushes the lever forward and the ship launches into hyperspace.

He watches as the inside of the ship is washed in faint blue from the streaks of light out of the window. Watches the colours playing on your skin.

It occurs to him that the two of you are alone on this ship now for an entire cycle. 

A silence stretches out between you, punctuated by accidental eye contact when both of you try to sneak a glance at the other and get caught. 

At some point, Cassian stands up, walks over to his pack and grabs his water canteen. 

Out of absolutely nowhere, you say very nonchalantly, “I wish there was a shower on this ship.” 

Cassian’s mind goes to about fifteen very naked places it’s not supposed to be, and it almost gives him whiplash. “What?” 

“Your hair’s all crunchy from the gel. If there was a shower you could wash it off.” 

The hair gel isn’t bothering him, so he’s a little confused. “I’ll be able to wash it off tomorrow,” 

You nod. “I’ve just always wanted to run my fingers through your hair because it looks so soft, and I figure you’d let me do that now. But the gel is in the way of that right now.” 

Suddenly, the hair gel is bothering him. A lot. 

“I thought you said you were bad at flirting,” he manages to rasp out. 

“You think that’s flirting?” 

Cassian thinks he might not survive this flight. “What do you think it is?” 

“That’s just my stream of consciousness.” 

‘Stream of consciousness.’ Stars help him. 

Cassian’s still a little drunk on you saying you love him and feeling your hands and mouth on him, so his self-preservation skills are lacking. 

Plus he’s never been one to think much before he acts. 

This is what leads him to ask; “What else is in your stream of consciousness?” as he takes a sip from his canteen. 

A contemplative hum.

“I was thinking you look hot with your sleeves rolled up.” 

He chokes on his water. 

You watch him, alarmed, as he coughs up his lungs. It’s embarrassing, but he can’t stop coughing, to the point where you rush over. 

“Shit, are you okay?” You reach out to touch him.

Cassian waves your hand away as he tries to get his breath back. 

Once he manages to take a few blessedly uneventful breaths, and you take the opportunity to stroke the side of his face. Your eyes are so wide, so concerned. You’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. 

His chest aches. He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve you. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to-” 

And now you’re apologising. For complimenting him. For calling him hot. 

“- Stars, Cass, I thought you were dying for a second there, is there anything I can-”

He rushes you backwards against the wall of the ship again and does his very best to kiss you breathless. 

Before he can even think, he’s pushing his knee gently between your legs. You let out a very soft moan. 

He can’t stop. He’s kissing every bit of your skin he can find, and your hands are roaming everywhere on his body. 

Maybe if he makes you feel good; if he pleases you, keeps you happy that way, you won’t notice how wrong he is for you. 

“I love you,” he murmurs as he moves to kiss your lips again, “I love you,” as he pulls away to take a breath, “I love you,” before he bites your earlobe. 

You gasp and grip his shoulder. 

Something dark and possessive runs through him. 

He can’t lose you. He can’t.

But he knows he shouldn’t do this to you, either.

.

Cassian’s moving with reckless abandon, his lips and teeth and tongue are everywhere he can reach. 

The tenderness and joy of the first few kisses you shared are washed away by this intensity, this focus. 

And it’s not that you don’t like it, the urgency, but when you catch Cassian’s expression, it’s as stern and intense as he is during a mission. 

Something’s wrong. 

You brace your hands on his chest. “Cass, are you okay?”

He ignores you and presses his lips to yours. 

You try a couple more times with gentle coaxing, to figure out what’s going on with him, but he doesn’t respond, so you grab his face, press his forehead against yours, and say, “Stop, baby.” 

His eyes fly open and he wrenches himself away from you without a word. 

He paces the length of the ship over and over again, and you watch the furrow in his brow get deeper.

Slowly, you slide down against the hull of the ship and sit on the floor. 

You’ve known Cassian long enough to be able to identify some of his habits and patterns of thought. You trust him enough to know he didn’t lie when he said he loved you, but there’s something stopping him from giving himself to you. 

He’s the sort of person that will give love, but not accept it back. 

He stops and looks at you. “We can’t do this.” 

Twenty minutes ago, you would have allowed this, given up and nursed a bruised heart for months. 

But this is now, and you’re not letting the man you love forfeit something that could make him happy because he thinks he doesn’t deserve it. 

He’s obviously not expecting the calm expression on your face, or how you say, “Sit down.” 

He sits immediately, leaning against the other side of the hull. 

“I’m gonna say some things, and then I’ll give you time to think, and you can come back and respond, okay?” 

Cassian nods, dumbfounded. 

“If you don’t want this, you tell me that. Otherwise, don’t make my choices for me. You haven’t tricked me into loving you. I’ve loved you since you walked over to our table in the mess hall, dead on your feet with your grumpy face, looking like you were about to kill someone. There isn’t an expiry date or a condition on that. I’m not going to wake up one day and decide that I don’t love you because of what you’ve done, or who you are. You’re a good person. You deserve to be happy. To be loved. I’ll love you regardless of whether you’ll accept it or not,” you smile a little, “if you look at it that way, you could find that you may as well make the most of it.”

His eyes are shiny - more than normal - and you realise there are tears there, waiting to spill over. You want nothing more than to go over and hold him, but you don’t need physical contact to keep distracting you from conversations that need to be had. 

“Make sense?” You ask. 

He nods. 

“Good. I’ll be here for you. I’ll still be here for you when we land back on Yavin, no matter how long it takes. Just take your time, sweetheart.”

.

If anyone else called him ‘sweetheart’, Cassian would start a fight, but when you do, you say it like you mean it. Like you think he’s good, or precious. 

You put the meaning of the two words in it. ‘Sweet’ and ‘heart’. It would be enough to make him cry on a normal day, let alone this one. He clears his throat to keep himself under control. 

After a while, you move to the bench in the middle of the ship and lie down on it. You didn’t get much sleep during the flight here, so Cassian isn’t surprised when your eyes fall shut almost immediately.

So he sits on the floor of the hull in silence, and he thinks.

.

A few weeks pass and Cassian hasn’t visited you in the hangars once.

You assume he needs space away from you to think. You said you’d give it to him and you are, but you’re not endlessly patient, and doubt is creeping in.

You trust Cassian, you do, but what if he said he loved you because he felt obliged to, or because of the heat of the moment? What if he’s never going to visit you again? What if those kisses were the only ones you were ever going to share with him?

Greda, for once, is being tactical. She seemed to notice something was off, but she hasn’t mentioned it except for asking you how you are once or twice.

You’re entering the lower hangar with a late-night cup of herbal tea when you hear the alarm for an emergency landing going off on the runway.

You and Riekk are on the night shift tonight, which means you do some mech work or personal projects, but mostly you’re on call for any emergencies ship-wise throughout the night.

You run up the stairs to ground level, your tea left on the bottom step.

When you get to the runway, there’s a BTL Y-wing half in flames, haphazardly landed.

Through the smoke, you see two figures making their way out of their seats on the ship.

K-2 and Cassian.

K-2 might be a little banged up, it’s hard to see from here, but Cassian is hunched over, holding his side. His other arm is limp.

You comm the med centre and ask for the medics on call to bring a med-rig.

The med team arrives while you and Riekk are putting out the last of the fire, and Cassian is taken away on the rig before you can see him.

In the adrenaline rush and anxiety, you manage to convince yourself that Cassian won't want you there with him in the med centre. You need to keep giving him space. He's not dying, just injured. You'll only be an annoyance in the med centre anyway.

So after you've gotten a couple of the bigger maintenance droids to tug the Y-wing out of the middle of the runway into the upper hangar, you trudge back downstairs to work on some carbon scoring that's built up on one of the Corvettes.

You pick up the tea you left on the bottom step and take a sip, but it's been steeping too long, so it's bitter and cold.