civilian reader who’s a fan of mecha man aka robert
he doesn’t officially work with the sdn, so there’s no official “merch” of him or anything like that. but you know a lot about him, and you may have a little crush on him.
you work at sdn, so you are somewhat close to the source. one day, you start talking with robert, and the conversation turns to mecha man. “he’s actually really interesting. i know he got into that coma a few months ago, but i really think he can recover from that.”
and robert is just frozen. because you’re talking about him, rambling on and on about him. but what you say next has him flushing. “don’t tell anyone, but…i kind of have a crush on him? i mean, who wouldn’t? i wanna see under his mask, i bet he’d be really hot.”
fuck.
Robert has to get out of this conversation before he either melts into a flustered puddle or says something he shouldn’t. so he stutters out some random response, grabs his cup of coffee, and basically runs away.
you watch him leave, brows furrowed. that’s…weird. it’s almost like he got unsettled from you talking about mecha man.
Do you guys think Robert does that silly gremlin voice (from ep 3) for Beef just for fun sometimes? because it’s all I’m thinking about right now.
Like it takes teamwork to bath Beef because he might be small but god was the little menace a wiggly little shit and when faced with water?— it was hell.
You’d be hunched over the edge of the bath trying to scrub the chubby Chihuahua clean whilst he tries with all his might to jump back up into your arms, shaking water and soap literally everywhere, tail wagging in excitement and Robert isn’t helping, like at all, he’s just sitting beside you mimicking these croaky cries and screams.
“Help me!— free me mother!” all whilst Beef quite literally looses his shit, barking up at you both— his paws scratching at the tubs acrylic trying to stand on his back legs only to slide down as Robert gives you another earful of the most strangest noises you’ve ever heard.
“Why are you making him sound like that?” You giggle, scooping the wet dog up in a fluffy towel to dry him off— the pair of you wincing a little as he shakes the water off, soaking you both even more.
And he has the audacity to look at you like you’ve gone crazy. “Sound like what?”
“Like some meth addicted goblin.” he chuckles at your words, a real belly laugh, the type that has you joining in along with him, finding him absolutely ridiculous in that lovesick-fond sort of way. Then Beef is scrambling out of your arms and down the hallway now full of the zoomies which only eggs Robert on even more, chasing after him with that stupid voice.
I really think Robert has a little silly in him.
AN: btw!! I have gotten some of your guys’ requests and I am working on them all I ask is for patience because this time of year is very hectic— anywho, hope you enjoyed this silly little blurb idk what this was lol, I’m really sleepy, it’s like 3 am for me rn goodnight <33
Can I request a fic of phenomanan/katon with a fem reader. He's trying to cook earth food as a surprise but everything is burned, the kitchen is a mess, and is the sink smoking?? Anyway he is very proud of his creation and s/o finds him very endearing but they can't eat his food so they order takeout. Katon is all pouty that he failed but s/o gives him plenty of praise and smooches for his effort
A Man of Many Talents, Excluding This One (Phenomaman x reader)
Warnings: Meal failures (don’t worry, no food went to waste, Golem offered to take it the next day), general tooth-rotting fluff <3 (Words: 0.9k)
(Author’s note: sorry if this is short!!! I love this idea, and I keep adding to my list of Phenomaman headcanons with these fics sksjsjsjsjs!!!! as always, please do not repurpose, steal, or otherwise misuse my work in any way, including anything involving Al.)
MY MASTERLIST
Fumbling with the keys a bit as you stood outside of your front door, you swore you smelled the faint thickness of smoke, though you couldn’t quite place where.
As you finally found the proper key to fit into the slot, turning it until it made that soft click that you knew meant you were home free, the smell got even stronger. You screwed up your face, pulling your shirt to cover your nose and mouth as you entered the room.
You heard a quick dxclamation of your name, plus the sound of multiple utensils being dropped in the sink, before the sight of your apron-clad boyfriend came around the corner.
“Beloved.” He greeted you, with all of the subtlety he could muster (which really wasn’t much), “You’ve arrived home earlier than expected.”
Getting a good look at him, you saw the stains on the light fabric of his apron, plus whatever covered his hands, and the lingering smell of burned food.
“Katon-Ur.” You stated, voice serious and low, “Why does our home smell like fire?”
“I have prepared us dinner.” A proud smile stretched across his face beneath his facial hair, as he stepped back, “Please, take a look. I have been working for hours.”
You quirked an eyebrow, letting your shirt fall from your face. Whatever it was, at least it hadn’t set off the smoke alarm.
As you set foot in your shared kitchen, you were knocked absolutely speechless at the wreckage. Two pans sat atop the stove, their original contents now long past charcoal as they cooled in their chalky dark graves. In a pot was something you couldn’t even recognize, it looked like it had been boiled past the point of saving.
You spun on your heels, glancing over to the sink, which, while piled high with dishes, had thin ropes of smoke emerging from the bottom.
“Please, have a seat.” One of his hands landed between your shoulder blades, gently guiding you over to the dining table, which had been meticulously set up with placemats, cutlery, wine glasses you didn’t know you had, and even a small arrangement of flowers in a vase, which sat in the middle of the table.
He pulled out a chair for you, and you thanked him softly, taking a seat as you folded your hand in your lap.
Maybe, with some miracle, the meal would be edible. You felt horrible, seeing how excited he was, but you knew from experience that he wasn’t used to human ingredients, and dread seemed to creep up inside you, curling around your gut like a snake.
The scent of charred meat wafted over as he gladly slid the plate in front of you, and you forced a smile onto your lips, repeating in your mind that he was still learning, still new to cooking.
He scooped a plate for himself, before returning to take his seat across from you.
“I would like you to try it before I do.” He told you, albeit a bit sheepishly, “I value your opinion quite highly.”
You nodded, scooping up a bite of… whatever it used to be, before bracing yourself.
You chewed, the overwhelming bitterness of the exceedingly overcooked meat threatening to make itself known in your expression, but you swallowed it anyway.
“What do you think?” He leaned in, captivated and hopeful in that adorable way of his.
You hesitated, trying to figure out the words in your head for a moment before replying.
“I can tell you worked really hard. And I’m so grateful you took the time to make dinner.” You told him, “I… do think it’s a little, uh… overcooked.”
You watched his face fall in real time, and you felt like the worst person in the world. Your gaze remained locked on him as he took a taste of his own, and you saw the barely hidden disgust in his eyes.
“I believe you are correct.” He grimaced, “It appears my skills leave something to be desired.”
“…yeah.” You exhaled, “But— I gotta say.”
Sliding out your chair, you passed by him, kissing his forehead.
“That was so unbelievably thoughtful of you. Thank you.”
“But it was inedible—“
“You still took the time to make it! And I can tell you were proud of it.”
“Not anymore.” He replied, “I did not know what the correct level of heat was for this particular ingredient.”
You gave his shoulder a gentle pat, pulling out your phone as you searched through your apps until you found the food delivery service.
“Next time, text me, I’ll ditch work and we can cook together.” You smiled, and he nodded, seemingly a little less guilty about it all, as he peered over at your phone.
You swiped through restaurants, until you found that one place he always loved.
“Do you wanna order from the noodle restaurant?” You asked him, “I can handle dishes while we wait.”
“The one with the eggs?” He questioned, and agreed once you confirmed it was the place with his favourites.
After watching you place the order, he quickly rushed to his feet, wrapping his arms around you.
You blinked up at him, wanting to question it, but the hug left no air in your lungs to breathe.
“I am truly sorry,” He dipped his head in sorrow, “I have caused damages for an unsatisfactory meal.”
“No, baby—“ You laughed softly, cupping his face in your hands, “It’s okay. Really. I once burned a baked potato so badly it exploded into dust, it happens.”
“It is good to know you are also poor at the act of cooking.” He replied, to which you snorted.
“Next time we cook, we’re using a recipe.” You insisted.
He gave you a soft nod, and followed you towards the sink where he tasked himself with drying the dishes you washed.
“You’re a talented guy, Phenomaman.” You teased lightly, “But everyone’s got their weak spots.”
synopsis- somehow, phenomaman keeps catching your attention, as though he's always been a magnet to your entire existence
a/n: LMAO im cryinggg not my annual update on tumblr but its ok its for dispatch hehe (alsooo if anyone is seeing this who sent me requests in the past IM SO SORRY for never getting to them)
It began with simple glances. A mere passing look into the other's peripheral direction, with a nod in politeness for a silent greeting. There was nothing too much to it.
Of course, you knew of him well, from his great stature and heroic deeds that never failed to capture the human population's attention. He was like a leader. A fighter. An inspiration to all. He gave hope to little kids -- like a symbol of justice.
You? You were basically a nobody. A fellow janitor along with Waterboy at SDN, there was not much for people to notice you. Hell, you didn't even have any superpowers like Waterboy to hopefully someday level up to an actual hero. And you were completely fine with it.
Even then, Phenomaman regarded you. Which was strange, in its own way.
However, this all changed when a shocking breakup overturned the hero, tearing him at the pieces.
Whispers had filled the office at SDN, hushed coworkers gossiping beneath their breaths upon the topic of Phenomaman and Blonde Blazer. They then proceeded on to talk about the scandalous crash out that the super alien was going through, disrupting traffic and hindering people's lives in an uncharacteristic way.
Phenomaman was supposed to be a good role model, they would say.
That was when you saw him again, that fated day.
As janitor, you were ordered to clean up the mess that was made in the parking lot. Apparently, someone had ruined Flambae's car, glass shards all over the place and the vehicle practically unusable. It made you wonder who would be brave enough to face Flambae's wrath, who could really just burn anyone if he wanted to.
Cleaning up the glass on the ground and scooping it into a bucket, you suddenly heard a rustle from behind you.
You whirled around, wide-eyed to find yourself staring at Phenomaman, who had appeared from behind a nearby tree. There, in his broken glory, stood the hero, dark circles prominent beneath his brown eyes and hair tousled and a gaunt but still handsome face.
"Why, if it isn't you," he said, with a gentle, raspy voice.
It was the first time he ever conversated with you, as you him. Shocked by this realization, you froze for a moment. Perhaps the breakup did a number of damage on him.
And when you thought about it, even though it really should not be your business, you couldn't help but feel bad for the guy.
"Were you the one who damaged this car?" you asked him, nudging your head at the sight beside you.
"What? Oh... Oh, yes. It appears you are here to clean it up. I apologize."
You shrugged. "Just here to do my job. If anything... you may wanna apologize to Flambae. He's throwing a tantrum right now."
"Ah, the one seared off eyebrows," he said. "How... frightening"
He sure was honest with things. Perhaps it was the alien inside of him.
"What is your name?" he asked suddenly.
You blinked at him in surprise. Not many people here cared to know your name. How strange it was indeed. Chest constricted by such a little thing, you wondered why you were so moved by his gestures. They really weren't much. But somehow, he always looked at you as something more... not some background character to fill the noise.
"[Name]," you told him. For some reason, you wanted to return this favor... if you could even call it one. "Hey, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'd be willing to hear you out."
"[Name]!" Arms wrapped around your body, the body heat of his worn suit against your skin. The slight musk of his scent, being pressed against his sturdy chest, and the fact that you were currently being hugged by one of the most powerful heroes left you dazed. Your chest pounded heavily at the close proximity, but the grateful smile on his lips drowned almost everything away. "What a kind fellow you are. Good."
That was, until he was squeezing you a little too hard, nearly breaking your bones.
You wheezed out, doubling over in pain.
"Oh my, you are a weak little thing."
You blinked at him, teary eyed. He was indeed too honest.
With that, the two of you formed a connection.
He became a source of motivation for you to come into work. As the two of you hung out in the backroom closet, you continued to truly learn who Phenomaman was, behind the exterior of his hero self.
But you preferred it actually, unveiling his layers towards the core of his being. You wanted to know more about him, know his thoughts and feelings, know his fears and weaknesses, wants and wishes.
He was more than just a hero.
His head laid down on your lap, and your fingers were woven along the strands of his soft, brown hair. He stayed there so comfortably, and you wished it would last forever.
"... It just feels hard to get back out there. Being in the same industry as my Blond Blazer is quite difficult. Alas, some days I wake up, I could hardly get out of bed," he muttered, staring at the ceiling sleepily.
"You know, you'll find someone who'll love you the way you are." It was cheesy and you would usually never say such a thing, but when it came to Phenomaman, there were a lot of boundaries you were willing to cross. His own honest self began to unravel your truths as well, breaking the walls that used to tower around you so.
He stared at you for a moment, brown, warm irises glowing beneath the iridescent lightbulb of the closet. "Do you think so?"
Perhaps he was always known to a beacon of hope. But then who should give the hope to him?
You wanted nothing more than to relieve him of his pain. So, you nodded.
He suddenly sat up, sitting across from you. Hands out and smushing your cheeks together, he grinned, a sight you could never pull away from. He was... beautiful. And though you knew he would hate a compliment from anyone, it would always be true.
"Would you like to know my name?"
You blinked in confusion. "Your name?"
He nodded. "It's Katon-Ur."
"Katon-Ur," you repeated back at him, the name rolling smoothly from your lips. What a fitting name for him.
synopsis - headcanons on what the women from dispatch would be like when they are dating.
authors note - can i just KINDLY say. OF COURSE I DO??? also im so excited for my first dispatch post.
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dispatch women || sfw & nsfw dating headcanons
—
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invisigal
sfw
acts like she's so friggin cool about you but shes definitely not. before you guys started dating, nonstop dreams, nonstop eyeing you across the office, nonstop observing you while she's invisible. i don't wanna say she was stalking you, but she got super close to it. cmon now, she just really super duper likes you!
always touches you when she walks by, even if it's barely. -- hand on your lower back, brushing fingers, tugging your shirt.
goes invisible just to sneak up behind you and wrap her arms around your waist. only in private though, can't let everyone know she's secretly soft for you.
you keep a backup inhaler for her just in case, and she thinks its the most sweetest thing ever.
steals all your stuff. jewelry, hoodies, chapstick, heart. yknow, the basics.
gets really jealous really easily. but, not the loud jealous. the jealous wear she just stares at whoever is flirting with you or talking to you. a death stare nobody could recreate. she will then go invisible and sabotage said persons belongings. whatever she can find.
randomly disappears only to reappear behind you and whisper "miss me?" just to see you jump.
she memorizes your schedule without your knowledge, you'll turn a corner and she's just there
with you, she feels like she doesn't have to be invisible, like she doesn't have to hide. she can just be.
nsfw
can't keep her hands or eyes off you, constant fucking in the locker room.
invisibility is her foreplay. she uses her invisibility in the same way someone else would use handcuffs. it's her advantage, her tease. she'd kiss your neck, disappear, and then reappear much much lower than before. she'd pull your legs apart and you'll feel her breath, but not her body. she'd say something corny like, "aw poor girl, can't find me?"
makes you say her name.-- her real name. not 'invisigal' not 'visi.' she wants you to say courtney. your voice is her kink.
loves overstimulation. courtney does not know how to stop when you are shaking.
and if you get her in a bottom position? poor girl has never been able to let her guard down, until you.
she'll say "is that all you got?' with her legs shaking.
grabs at your waist constantly, not to control you, just to feel you move.
when she's on the bottom she'd say things like - "yeah, just like that. fuck. keep going" - "i love when you do this to me." - "look at you, fuck." - and cutely, her voice would crack.
when she's on the top she'd say things like - "cmon baby keep your eyes open." - "yeah? you like that?" - "you're so easy to ruin, it's actually kind of adorable." - "don't look at me like that or im gonna fuckin' lose it."
malevola
sfw
calm, quiet affection
she's the kind of girlfriend who shows her love with presence, not noise.
sits next to you, leans her shoulder into yours, hand on your thigh, zero words. maybe a comment or two, but not much. but she's still so aware of you, she notices every micro-expression.
always always ALWAYS late. but always brings you something as and apology. she'll portal in 15 minutes late to a date you'd been planning for weeks but bring you some form of compensation. a shiny rock she thought you'd like, a coffee, a pastry, a kiss or two? - "i compensated for the inconvenience."
deeply protective but in a scary way. she won't yell, but if someone bothers you, she'll just look at them. and they pretty much just leave! she loves being feared on your behalf.
gossip gossip gossip. dates are 40% talk her shit. she gossips like its her love langauge. - "you didn't hear this from me..." - and then proceeds to tell you everything she shouldn't.
flirty in an understated, lethal way. she says things calmly, quietly. "you look devastating today." - "you're distracting me again, love." - will lean in close just to watch you react.
surprisingly supportive. she remembers literally everything you say and brings it up weeks, maybe even months later. she acts like she's above all the mushy gushy emotional lovey stuff but absolutely is not. she shows up for you (sometimes late, but still) in every way that matters.
nsfw
deceptively composed, she doesn't lose control easily. her voice stays low and smooth, even when she's desperate.
slow, but very intentional. she likes taking her time, building tension until you squirm. she'll softly ask "is this too slow for you?" 100% knowing it is.
loves being feared just a little. she doesn't want you scared of her, she wants you aware of her power. she'll cage you in with her arms, or pin your wrists gently. - "i like seeing you look up at me."
praises in a dark tone. "good." - "just like that." - "you're doing beautifully."
she rarely raises her voice. her quiet tone is what ruins you.
but she absolutely loves your reactions. her biggest weakness is the way you sound. she'll do something again just to hear that pretty sound you made. - "mm, do that once more."
prism
sfw
dramatic, and flashy affection. kisses you with exaggerated flair, often while making a joke. "i'd blow a smoke bomb if i could, but this works too."
quick to get mad if anyone insults or disrespects you.
she makes it very clear who she's loyal to. she always posts and livestreams with you. loves showing your relationship off.
socially aware and witty. sharp with words - really quick comebacks. although she does try her best to not say anything to hurt your feelings, she still does care even if she's trying to be funny.
teasing is constant, calling you a nickname she made up, poking fun at your quirks, or daring you to do silly challenges just to see your reaction.
she's fiercely supportive of your personal ambitions. cheering you on loudly, giving blunt but constructive advice, and celebrating every single win.
she love love LOVES if you can handle her jokes or even be able to talk back like her. she enjoys conversations that bounce quickly, jokes, gossip, internet references. (don't do that 67 shit tho. she fucking hates it.)
she isn't shy about showing touch in everyday life. her hands are on your waist when she wants them to be.
nsfw
she knows exactly what she wants and isn't afraid to go for it.
god, she's so loud. she doesn't really say much but the way you make her moan and scream says enough.
eye contact.
definitely more than 1 round every time.
kinky. spanking, hair pulling, face fucking, bondage.
loves using toys. on you and on herself. almost can't go without them.
loves riding you, loves being the center of your attention. makes her super wet when you prioritize her orgasms over your own.
thrives when you respond vocally. moans, whispers, or playful complaints just turn her on even more.
loves it when you eat her out. she's definitely a squirter AND a creamer and cums so fast when she sees you licking her between her thighs.
likes watching you guys fuck in front of a mirror so she can see every angle of how good you are making her feel.
blonde blazer
sfw
very much a tease. she knows how pretty she is. she knows how good she looks, uses it to her advantage. gives little smirks or playful nudges when she knows you are flustered.
also kinda corny. doesn't cuss much. very silly dad joke flirting type vibe for her.
really values trust and honesty in a relationship. will call you out on your bs but in a loving, teasing way.
enjoys little surprises. she wants the old fashioned notes on her desk, flowers, unexpected dates. she thinks its adorable and absolutely does the same for you.
go shopping with her. now.
texts you 24/7. even if they are random and unnecessary.
enjoys slow dancing with you to soft subtle music in the kitchen while she makes dinner. very romantic, very giggly.
loves cuddling. sometimes out of nowhere, just kinda invites herself into your arms.
has a soft spot for your quirks, the weird little habits you think no one notices.
very physically affectionate, but tries to keep it moderate in the workplace.
she also always notices your mood changes, even if you try to hide them, and will adjust her energy to match yours.
nsfw
the type to make love, not fuck. well, maybe sometimes.
loves teasing first. like leading you on all day and then when you get home finally letting that tension out.
can get adventurous with toys. but nothing too overwhelming, her favorite is when you two share a vibrator while you makeout.
speaking of making out, did i mention she loves kissing? loves it sloppy, gentle, sweet, aggressive, whatever. just loves your lips on hers.
yknow. speaking of her your lips on hers. LOVES scissoring. she could do it all damn day. loves feeling your pussy rub against hers.
enjoys slow undressing, whether its you or her. she likes it when you watch her, she likes feeling exposed to you. but then again, all she wants to do is look at you.
"oh fuck baby.. ur so pretty."
"don't stop im so close."
can switch between dominant and soft. enjoys gentle bites, marking, licking, kissing in sensitive places.
katon-ur (phenomaman) x fem!reader. katon-ur and his tries to flirt with the pretty woman in the cubicle next to robert's
The first time he saw you he was already mesmerized. You were just sitting in your desk, headphones on, SDN shirt looking perfect on you and big glasses sliding off the bridge of your nose. You looked so effortlessly pretty for him, he couldn't put to words the feeling he was having in his stomach. Every time he locked eyes with you, boom, his stomach twists and his palms get sweaty.
Oh, and the first time you talked to him? He was gone. Katon was talking to Robert in his desk, something about a decision on the Z Team that you didn't care about when you came to them to ask the latter about a mission report. Your voice was so sweet and velvety, he could see closer the curls on your head and the slight frizz in them that drove him insane. You were so polite, saying hi to him before sharing a small talk with Robert.
He needed to talk to you, he couldn't miss the opportunity to say something to you. But, oh no, you were already saying bye to Robert and flicking your gaze towards him to also say goodbye.
He huffs under his breath, also leaving the conversation with Robert. Katon looks around confused, taking a moment to find you again at your desk, muttering orders under your breath. He decides at that moment to come up to you.
He rehearses something in his head. 'Greetings! I, too, enjoy… mission reports.' Absolutely not. 'Hello. I noticed you are a human.' Worse. His mind pings through a dozen doomed variants until he’s right behind you and suddenly there’s no time left to be a person with a plan.
“Hi,” he blurts, far too loud and then softens, “hi” again as if the first one was just warming up.
You turn in your chair, one earphone still half on and your eyes meet his. That single glance does catastrophic things to his internal equilibrium. His solar-powered chest practically flickers.
"Hey," You say lifting your glasses with one finger.
He tries to lean on the cubicle wall. The wall is not prepared for alien density and makes a noise like someone stepped on a violin. Katon jerks upright as if nothing happened, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth in a desperate attempt at casualness.
“I, um,” he starts, and then his mind blanks spectacularly. He can feel the warmth radiating off his cheeks, he technically can't blush, but you caused that
“I noticed you were… working. Which is good. Productive. Admirable.”
He closes his eyes for half a second, recalibrating. “What I mean is… I thought perhaps I should say hello. Properly. Since earlier you… spoke. To me.”
He gestures vaguely, as if that explains everything about the indescribable way your voice lodged itself in his chest cavity.
His palms are sweating again (absolutely ridiculous, since he’s not supposed to do that either) and he hides them behind his back.
“Sorry,” he adds quickly, “I’m new to… conversational… initiating.”
A beat.
“That is a phrase, yes?” He looks at you with panic, like a supernova trying very hard to be a candle.
And you smile. He might explode.
"It is a phrase if you want it to be," you say, the warmth of your voice filling his body.
He freezes.
You keep going, because leaving him suspended in existential suspense feels cruel.
“I’ve seen you around. You’re… hard to miss.” You glance at him up and down, your tone almost teasing. “In the architectural sense.”
His eyes go wide, and he straightens as if someone installed a steel beam along his spine.
“I am… visible,” he manages, then winces because that sounded too close to bragging about occupying space. “I mean—recognizable. I meant recognizable.”
You lean an elbow on your desk. “Relax. I know what you meant.” There’s a tiny, playful glint in your eyes now. “I’m glad you said hello.”
Katon’s whole posture tilts toward you involuntarily. He clears his throat in the most heroic, overly dignified way possible.
“I am also glad,” he says earnestly. Then, after a helpless beat: “Very.”
His shoulders sag with relief, because he did it. He has officially spoken to you without exploding, imploding or accidentally lifting something heavy. And you responded. Nicely.
He stands there, trying to figure out how a normal human exits a conversation without bursting into flames.
"I will leave you to work now, beautiful lady." He bows his head before turning in his heels and walking out.
That caught you a little offhand. He was very imposing, scary for some people even, but he looked so small talking to you. And the pet name? That made you feel like an awkward alien.
You lick your lips, seeing how he exits the room from a window. He tries to find you in the room one more time before leaving. And you get it, all of a sudden. He was flirting with you.
Katon-Ur spends the next three days attempting something that, for him, is as complex as astrophysics: continued flirting. He studies humans the way botanists study rare orchids. Quietly, intensely and with absolutely zero clue what he’s doing.
Robert, regrettably, becomes his primary source of advice.
“Flowers,” Robert says, not looking up from his PC. “Girls like flowers. Bring her flowers.”
Katon nods, heroic determination setting in. Flowers. Simple. A symbol of beauty, affection, terrestrial courtship. He can do flowers.
Except he cannot.
Because by the time he makes it outside, every flower on campus is either wilted, guarded by a bee colony he refuses to disturb, or planted in a way that suggests “do not pick unless you want the groundskeeper to kill you.” Katon stands there, hands on hips, cape fluttering, staring at the greenery like it has betrayed him personally.
But there are leaves. Many leaves. And one is particularly… nice. Symmetrical. A pleasing shade of green. Perhaps humans appreciate variety. Perhaps this leaf is a flower in spirit.
He plucks it with reverence, holds it as though it's an artifact, and heads inside before he can overthink and combust.
You’re typing when he appears beside your desk again, quiet for such a tall presence, holding something behind his back. His posture is stiff with purpose and terror.
“You,” he says, then swallows. “You are working again. You do that often, I notice.”
You spin slowly in your chair, eyebrow raised. “That is sort of how jobs work, yes.”
His face lights like he’s being praised for discovering fire.
“Yes! Precisely. And I have brought—” He thrusts something out toward you, then hesitates mid-motion, grimacing as if bracing for impact. “I have brought you this.”
You look down.
It is a leaf.
A perfectly ordinary, unremarkable, wonderfully green leaf.
There is a beat of silence so delicate it might shatter.
You meet his eyes, and they’re wide with earnest hope and absolutely no sense of how absurd this is. He looks like a puppy who’s brought you a sock and is praying you’ll treasure it forever.
“A leaf?” you say, letting your voice tilt warm instead of confused. “For me?”
He nods vigorously. “Yes. It is botanical.” Another nod. “Robert said flowers. There were obstacles.”
You try very hard not to laugh, not mockingly but affectionately. Impressed by the softness you didn't expect from a man capable of punching through steel.
“Thank you,” you say instead, smiling as you take it from him. “It’s lovely.”
Katon-Ur practically malfunctions. His hands fly up in an awkward half-gesture, his breath catches, his shoulders rise, his entire demeanor flickers between relief and sheer cosmic delight.
“You… like it?” he breathes, as if the universe itself hinges on this answer.
“There’s thought behind it,” you say, brushing your thumb over the leaf’s edge. “That matters more than anything.”
His knees nearly buckle. He steadies himself on the cubicle, gently this time.
“I will bring you more,” he vows heroically, then freezes. “Not leaves. Unless you desire leaves. I can acquire many. Infinite, even.”
You laugh softly, and he looks like he’d kneel at your feet if you asked.
“Maybe,” you say, “you can just keep talking to me.”
He inhales sharply, loudly, as if you’ve given him oxygen he didn’t know he needed.
“I can do that,” he promises, glowing brighter than any sun. “Conversational initiating. Continuation? Ongoing dialogue.”
“Katon,” you say gently, “you’re adorable.”
He goes still. If he had a tail, it would be wagging so hard it’d be hazardous.
He leaves your desk that day with the stuttery gait of someone whose entire sense of gravity has been knocked askew. You watch him go, broad shoulders, cape flicking behind him like he’s walking through a heroic wind only he can feel. And the ridiculous part? He looks good doing it. Too good.
That’s the inconvenient truth you’ve been skirting around: the man is awkward as an unplugged Roomba… and yet somehow hot in the way a star is hot. Big, bright, earnest, capable of melting things if he gets too close.
You spend the rest of your workday touching the edge of that leaf like it might still carry some trace of the way he held it, fingers too careful for someone who could crush cement.
And Katon?
He spends the rest of his day thinking about you.
He tries to train afterward, or something like training (lifting a comically large metal beam) which he usually does with smooth precision. But today he drops it twice. The second time he mutters your name under his breath and startles himself so badly he nearly launches into the ceiling.
By the next morning, he’s decided a new mission directive: Get braver. Get closer. Do not combust.
You’re running an errand in the hallway when he spots you. He tries to approach casually, failing.
“Beautiful—” he begins, then aborts mid-syllable. “Human lady— no. You. Hello. You.”
He stands fully upright, and suddenly the hallway feels smaller in comparison. He’s massive, yes, but it’s the warmth in his eyes that hits you, like catching sunlight on bare skin.
“Katon,” you say, grinning despite your best efforts, “breathe.”
He does. Loudly. Dramatically. As though you gave him permission to inhale for the first time all day.
“I wished to…” He pauses, gestures to himself. “Present myself. To you. Again. Properly.” Then, with reverence: “You look very nice today.”
You raise an eyebrow. “You think so?”
“Yes,” he says, no hesitation at all. “Your hair is… curly.” He nods, pleased with this observation. “Very curly. It is good. It makes shapes.”
You bite back a smile. “Shapes?”
“Pleasing shapes,” he amends, cheeks heating in that not-technically-a-blush way of his.
“Thank you,” you say, leaning slightly closer without meaning to. “You look good too.”
He blinks. Once. Twice. Then he looks down at himself as if checking whether that could possibly be true.
“I do?” His voice drops an octave, surprise wrapped in something softer. “Truly?”
“Uh-huh,” you say, steady but warm, “you’re kind of cute.”
His breath catches.
You watch his hands curl and uncurl at his sides, like he’s physically restraining cosmic-level reactions. His whole chest seems to brighten, not literally glowing, but close.
“No one has ever…” He fumbles. “I mean, they have said things, but not…”
He gathers himself, squares his shoulders, and looks at you with a sincerity so intense it could bend steel.
“You think I am cute?”
He says it like you’ve handed him the moon.
You nod. “Yeah. I do.”
He looks as if he might ascend.
“I will attempt,” he says, voice hushed and full of wonder, “to be worthy of that.”
Before you can respond, he adds, softer but bolder than anything he’s said yet:
“And you are… far more than cute.”
His gaze lingers, warm and earnest and a little hungry in the most innocent way imaginable.
He’s awkward, sure. But he’s also very attractive, very sincere and extremely focused on you.
phenomaman masterlist a/n: this idea came to me bc i've been saying a leaf? for me? thank you all day and i thought it could be cute. haven't watched the movie and i'm lowk not planning to. i'm tired of 2025 gothic aesthetic
prism w/ a crush on a shy gn! hero! reader who is her polar opposite. literally.
𝝑𝝔 prism was confused when she first saw and heard about you, she thought you were faking the whole shy charade... but you weren't. and she honestly... stared to look out for you (subconsciously), she'll deny it if you ask.
"and what are you gonna do about it?" — "probably cry and run from the damn criminal." — the two people who were blocking your way from grabbing a cup of caffeine before heading back to work laughed in your face. well, it wasn't the first time people looked down on you for your ability of not being able to talk back.
"you two better back the fuck up, who you think you talking to?"
a woman with a voice that could probably sing, deep and pleasing to your ears like coffee was to your taste. "who're you? you their girlfriend or something?" — "hah! birds of a feather..."
the lady now stood by your side, lifting her hand up within the speed of time, a spot of light growing in her palm. "if you two don't bounce your asses outta here, i'mma make sure you two don't see tomorrow—literally."
"...y-you've gotta be joking..." the first guy chimed in, hands raised up in surrender , but the other? not so threatened. "no way, you don't wanna go and find another job, do you little miss prism?"
"aye, sweetheart. gimme a number; one to ten." the woman who you've so far gathered to be as prism looks over to you, expecting a quick reply. "i... um... five..?" you manage to mutter under your breath, keeping your head low as she nods. "i'mma give you five, exactly five seconds to move."
"what're you gonna do if nah?" the second guy smirks as he stands closer to the lady, almost not afraid of her power when...
"five."
"okay, dude let's just get—"
"four."
"n-no way you'd blind me..! over this bitch?"
"three."
"okay, we'll move... jeez..."
"two and one!" she exclaims quickly as the two run off in fear, giving her a great matter to laugh about. "oh my god... did you-hah, did you see their faces?!" erupting into laughter once more, you simply just felt entranced by her whole being, her laugh, the way she smiled.
gosh the thing she was doing to you... you barely knew this pretty lady...!!
"c'mon, you can laugh, right?" "...hahahah?"
she lets out a chuckle as she pats your shoulder, "let's work on how you respond to that next time instead, eh?"
you were confused at how relaxed she was, i mean, all the things you've heard about the prism in the hero ranks being considered 'rude', 'selfish', 'cruel'...
who was this then?
"ah, almost forgot you didn't know me! 'm prism," — "n-name! m-my... err.. that's my name..."
her dyed bob flows with the brief wind as she faces back to you, god she's never acted this nice... what the hell was happening?
"so... what was that about, huh alice?" flambae voice was filled with tease as he leaned up against a wall whilst her boots had stopped clicking, "shut the fuck up."
I tried to keep it with that the reader has he/they pronouns since I usually right in gender neutral terms so everyone could feel included. But this is mainly for the boy kissers 🫶🏾
Flamebae/Chad has a boyfriend/partner who gave up villain because he straight-up asked him to. In the past, his partner was a big-time villain across several states and wielded powerful abilities.
They first met when they ended up working together on some random heist. Flamebae thought they were attractive, and the (Reader) liked his sass. While they did hit it off well, it took them a while to get together, and to follow that, they really didn't enter a "relationship"; instead, friends who fuck sometimes.
The (Reader) isn't good a showing how they actually feel, due to well-being being a villain, can't put your emotions into it, or you're fuck. But they care for Flamebae way more than they would like to admit if he were not spoiling him with money and gifts. He is instead keeping him out of jail by either bribing him out of paying off some cops.
It was honestly going well for both of them until the (Reader) and their crew were going to pull off a big-time job, which was not only a once-in-a-lifetime chance for it to be done. But also would guarantee the (Reader) spot in the villain world as untouchable. Like he was going to be up there with Shroud, but on a global scale. So it was pretty fucking important.
But instead of doing the job, (Reader) gets notice of what happened between Flamebae and Mecha Man. Now here they are deciding on bailing out on the mission to save and check up on his partner, or ignore it now, then get to it later.
The next day, his crew got arrested, and the (Reader) was on a plane back to LA. Was it a dick move to not only bail and snitch on your crew? Yes. But it's for Flamebae to they could spin on it for all he cares. And the (Reader) was not letting someone else get their notoriety.
So, guess who was greatly surprised by hearing he had a visitor? Flamebae was already pissed about his hand; now he has random strangers visiting him in prison. At first, Flamebae was not getting up to see who that was. He already had enough on his plate.
So the (Reader) didn't see him the first time, nor the second, or the third. It wasn't until the same officer came around the same time to tell him the same thing that he lost whatever bit of patience he had (which surprised him because it never lasted this long).
He was going to rip this persona a new one, maybe cursing out some random might make him feel better. But instead, he saw his partner, who looked like they needed a shower and two shots of tequila.
Flamebae watched him, perk up so fast, a smile forming on his face as he quickly picked up the phone. He was quick to follow suit on his end.
"My God, I'm so happy that you came this time, I thought I would have to start writing letters to get your attention…"
"Why are you here? I thought you had some big-time thing going on in fucking France!"
"Yeah, I did, but once I heard what happened to you, I dropped everything to make sure you were safe."
"How's your hand by the way.."
"….."
The conversation after this was a bit tense, while Flamebae was shocked to see they had heard the topic about his hands was still sensitive, still fresh. But the visits continued after, and many needed conversations were held. It wasn't until he was taken in by the Phoenix Program that he really wanted to know where they stood as partners came up.
While Flamebae thought it was going to be some pushback, he was taken aback by how fast that motherfucker agreed.
"I'm sorry, what?”
"I said sure, I mean it gets you out of prison and a good job. I can finally retire because I've wanted to do that and maybe reopen my ma's bakery. That would be nice."
"You want to open a bakery?"
"I mean, yeah, that's always been the plan, but I have someone fine waiting for me at home after a hard day at work."
"At least you fucking know it, but honestly, what the hell did you agree to it that fast, you didn't flinch!"
"Because I don't need to second-guess when it comes to you. You could ask me to do anything and I would do it simply because YOU ask me to. Is that enough of an answer to you?"
"Oh."
Let's just say, even months later, Flamebae is shocked when he gets home and sees this motherfucker in a "Kiss the Cook" apron making dinner like not even a year ago he was hunting people down like wild animals. But hey, the view is nice and the food is good, so what's more to ask?
I hope everyone liked it. I really didn’t know how to end it, since I wrote this on a whim after crying about the end of this season. But I hope to have more in the future maybe open some requests so I could get the juices flowing! But for now, thank you for reading!! 💛
More lore on Robert and his spouse, these are all over the place!😫
They’re high-school sweethearts to lovers.
Robert used to come over to their house a lot during those years, since I get the feeling that having emotional teenager angst and a supposedly absent father (or at least emotionally absent) isn't a good mix to leave alone.
So leads me to believe that during his teenage years, Robert would either isolate or just try not to be home too much since there isn't much for him there. Probably has a small group of friends that he hangs around with regularly, which his S/O could have been a part of.
Definitely was a part of some form of engineering/robotics club. Was a beast during the science fair. It seems like he was the only one keeping up the suit before SDN came along, so the man definitely has brains.
I feel like his S/O would drag him over to their place so he wouldn't be alone consistently outside of school. At first, Robert probably felt like he was intruding, but after some time, his S/O parents would give him a house key since that was basically his second home. If his S/O had a big family, like an alarming number of siblings, or had some cousins living with them. Robert is getting adopted by them so fast, while his S/O is embarrassed by it. Robert, while it might not come off that way, is loving it, honestly.
It's awkward, yeah, but it feels nice! Since we don’t know much about his mother, I would at least say his mom either wasn’t in the picture or died.
Which raises the bigger question of was his father was always like this? While we can see or guess from how he talks about his dad and the comics. Like in the earlier eps, he mentions to Royd that he(Royd) had a longer conversation with his dad while getting arrested than he did his entire life (before his death). While this could be a bit over exaggerated, we still get a bit of a glimpse into their relationship(or lack thereof).
While a piece of me wants a genuine explanation on why his father is like that towards him, realistically, I know that people just straight up hate their kids, or at least tolerate them at best. That also means that Robert may not ever get closure, even if he gets revenge, as it seems like he cared more for his father than his father did to try to muster up the effort to do the same.
Amazing Hero to the Public, Morally Grey character in private.
His S/O probably has a regular civilian job (even tho they have powers) or might be someone in the engineering department or have a degree of some sort. They both attended separate colleges but didn’t make anything official until they graduated.
So with that in mind, they like to help Robert with the Mecha suit when needed, but mostly leave it to him since it’s practically a family heirloom, and he knows it best when it comes to fixing it.
Beef was a foster failure since the same time the couple was fostering him. Robert's Dad got killed, so he basically became the couple's emotional support dog. So, RIP to the little family in Ohio that was looking into adopting him 💔🤧
And speaking of family, a conversation they had before their marriage, if they were to have kids (adopted, biologically, etc). If their kids ever wanted to take on the family suit, would they let them? At first, Robert had neutral feelings about it, as if their kid(s) wanted to do it, then he couldn't stop them, but he's not going to let them go into it blindly. So he would absolutely teach them how to operate it. But after everything that happened to him, it's a straight no.
That suit has a body count of two and almost three, and he survived by straight chance. I think he wouldn't be able to sleep at night while knowing that he is letting his child into that thing.
Now I'm not saying that Robert hates the suit or being a hero(if he did, he would not be trying so hard to get back on the field or become financially ruined because of it). He hates the weight that things carry and the expectations that follow with it. Like the public literally told him that he should've died in that suit because his being alive seems more cowardly, LIKE THE HELL! While he willingly carries that weight, I don't think he can stomach his child carrying that same burden. Like if his child wants to be a regular hero outside of the family name, then he's down for it.
His S/O, on the other hand, never liked the idea in the first place, while nobody is forcing them to make their child step into the role. It comes off that they are going to be forced to if anyway if anything happens to Robert. Which means if Roberts dies, their child is supposedly next in line to meet death. And to those that NOT HAPPENING. So it's a high chance that the Mecha man line ends with Robert, unless he retires due to old age and their child takes his place, and that's the only way they MAY get it. But if Robert died in the field, then that suit is getting put on display somewhere.
That’s all for now but I hope to have more about them soon and maybe a design for his S/O! Thank you for reading!!! 💛
The first thing you notice isn’t the sunlight — it’s the quiet. The kind of quiet that only exists after a long night of chaos. You stir slowly, wrapped in a blanket that smells faintly like ozone and coffee. The hum of the city beyond the Dispatch headquarters barely reaches this high up.
Phenomaman is already awake. He’s sitting by the window, the early gold light tracing the edges of his cape. For once, it isn’t flowing behind him or fluttering against a storm. It just rests there, folded over the back of his chair like an ordinary piece of fabric — like he’s trying to feel ordinary, too.
When he turns, his smile is small. Real. “Morning,” he says, his voice a little rough — not from shouting commands over comms, but from being quiet for too long.
You get up, padding across the floor. “You didn’t sleep much,” you murmur, glancing at the untouched coffee on the sill.
He exhales softly, the faint shimmer of his alien aura dimming. “Didn’t want to miss this,” he says, nodding toward the light spilling across the city. “Sometimes… it feels like the only time I can just be.”
You sit beside him, knees brushing. He looks at you for a moment — the world’s strongest hero, trying to find words that make him feel human. “You make it easier,” he admits quietly. “Being here. Breathing.”
Your hand finds his. His fingers are warm, calloused, a little trembling. You squeeze them gently. “You don’t always have to be ‘Phenomenal,’ you know,” you whisper. “Sometimes just… being you is enough.”
He lets out a shaky laugh — the kind that feels like relief more than humor. “You always say that like you mean it.”
“I do.”
For a while, neither of you speak. The sunlight crawls higher, brushing against his face. He leans back, finally closing his eyes, the corners of his mouth softening into a calm expression you wish the rest of the world could see.
When he opens them again, they meet yours. “Stay a little longer?”
You smile. “Always.”
And in that still moment — no headlines, no missions, no pressure — the hero isn’t Phenomaman, and you aren’t the person waiting behind the comms. You’re just two people sharing a quiet morning, hearts steady, the world finally at peace.
I tried to keep it with that the reader has he/they pronouns since I usually right in gender neutral terms so everyone could feel included. But this is mainly for the boy kissers 🫶🏾
Flamebae/Chad has a boyfriend/partner who gave up villain because he straight-up asked him to. In the past, his partner was a big-time villain across several states and wielded powerful abilities.
They first met when they ended up working together on some random heist. Flamebae thought they were attractive, and the (Reader) liked his sass. While they did hit it off well, it took them a while to get together, and to follow that, they really didn't enter a "relationship"; instead, friends who fuck sometimes.
The (Reader) isn't good a showing how they actually feel, due to well-being being a villain, can't put your emotions into it, or you're fuck. But they care for Flamebae way more than they would like to admit if he were not spoiling him with money and gifts. He is instead keeping him out of jail by either bribing him out of paying off some cops.
It was honestly going well for both of them until the (Reader) and their crew were going to pull off a big-time job, which was not only a once-in-a-lifetime chance for it to be done. But also would guarantee the (Reader) spot in the villain world as untouchable. Like he was going to be up there with Shroud, but on a global scale. So it was pretty fucking important.
But instead of doing the job, (Reader) gets notice of what happened between Flamebae and Mecha Man. Now here they are deciding on bailing out on the mission to save and check up on his partner, or ignore it now, then get to it later.
The next day, his crew got arrested, and the (Reader) was on a plane back to LA. Was it a dick move to not only bail and snitch on your crew? Yes. But it's for Flamebae to they could spin on it for all he cares. And the (Reader) was not letting someone else get their notoriety.
So, guess who was greatly surprised by hearing he had a visitor? Flamebae was already pissed about his hand; now he has random strangers visiting him in prison. At first, Flamebae was not getting up to see who that was. He already had enough on his plate.
So the (Reader) didn't see him the first time, nor the second, or the third. It wasn't until the same officer came around the same time to tell him the same thing that he lost whatever bit of patience he had (which surprised him because it never lasted this long).
He was going to rip this persona a new one, maybe cursing out some random might make him feel better. But instead, he saw his partner, who looked like they needed a shower and two shots of tequila.
Flamebae watched him, perk up so fast, a smile forming on his face as he quickly picked up the phone. He was quick to follow suit on his end.
"My God, I'm so happy that you came this time, I thought I would have to start writing letters to get your attention…"
"Why are you here? I thought you had some big-time thing going on in fucking France!"
"Yeah, I did, but once I heard what happened to you, I dropped everything to make sure you were safe."
"How's your hand by the way.."
"….."
The conversation after this was a bit tense, while Flamebae was shocked to see they had heard the topic about his hands was still sensitive, still fresh. But the visits continued after, and many needed conversations were held. It wasn't until he was taken in by the Phoenix Program that he really wanted to know where they stood as partners came up.
While Flamebae thought it was going to be some pushback, he was taken aback by how fast that motherfucker agreed.
"I'm sorry, what?”
"I said sure, I mean it gets you out of prison and a good job. I can finally retire because I've wanted to do that and maybe reopen my ma's bakery. That would be nice."
"You want to open a bakery?"
"I mean, yeah, that's always been the plan, but I have someone fine waiting for me at home after a hard day at work."
"At least you fucking know it, but honestly, what the hell did you agree to it that fast, you didn't flinch!"
"Because I don't need to second-guess when it comes to you. You could ask me to do anything and I would do it simply because YOU ask me to. Is that enough of an answer to you?"
"Oh."
Let's just say, even months later, Flamebae is shocked when he gets home and sees this motherfucker in a "Kiss the Cook" apron making dinner like not even a year ago he was hunting people down like wild animals. But hey, the view is nice and the food is good, so what's more to ask?
I hope everyone liked it. I really didn’t know how to end it, since I wrote this on a whim after crying about the end of this season. But I hope to have more in the future maybe open some requests so I could get the juices flowing! But for now, thank you for reading!! 💛
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