First ship headcanons request lets go?? Iâm more than happy to deliver đ«¶
This is a very looong post but this was super fun to write!! Donât be afraid to send me more ship headcanon requests :]
This has angst ofc, baindallas is doomed yaoi, what else did you expect? Donât worry I gave you some fluffy stuff as well, consider it an apology for the angst
Headcanons:
Slow burn trope, despite them both being good with words, they are absolutely awful at communicating their feelings to eachother.
They are both completely full of yearning and want, but it never gets to turn into have. Even after years of working together, Bain never expresses his feelings due to how risky and dangerous it is to pursue a relationship while following a life of crime, and Dallas isnât able to realise and confront his own feelings towards him. He waits and waits for the right time to come clean about his feelings, until itâs too late...
The grief is overwhelming to the whole crew, especially to Dallas. While he doesnât show it on the outside, it is still very obvious to everyone else. His movements are more sluggish, heâs quieter than usual and spends more time alone in his office, haunted by the guilt of never confessing his true feelings.
After a while, the grief significantly subsides within the members of the crew, and while he still hasnât moved on completely, he keeps on pushing, knowing itâs what Bain wouldâve wanted, even if itâs extremely difficult to do so.
He subconsciously begins to adopt Bainâs old mannerisms over time. From his manner of speech, to the way he signed off his e-mails, his little quirks and habits continue to live on within the Mastermind. Once he notices, things slowly become a bit easier, step by step, knowing heâll forever be carrying a piece of the man he once loved with him.
But what if they didnât hesitate with expressing their true feelings?
Nicknames arenât an extremely common occurence between the two, but every once in a while when in private, a âDearâ, âDarlingâ or âSweetheartâ slips out
Bain sometimes sends anonymous packages adressed to Dallas to the safehouse, usually containing a thoughtful gift of some sort. Whether that be a quality bottle of whiskey or his favorite brand of cigarettes, he leaves him gifts often alongside a short and sweet note
Dallas asks to go on solo stealth missions more often than before, really itâs just an excuse for some more one-on-one time with Bain
Dallas is the only one who actually has a way to contact Bain privately, through a burner phone provided to him by the latter. Off the job, that phone is full of endless messages between the two
Personally I prefer to believe in them not actually meeting physically, maybe except for once, but you guys have some physical contact headcanons too cuz we need them kissing
Bain loves having his hair played with and Dallas does it cause it helps keep his hands busy
PHYSICAL AFFECTION!! They donât see eachother all day and after all the mini heart attacks Bain gets every time Dallas gets downed or in custody, you think they wouldnât keep their hands off eachother? Even when they canât fully cuddle, an arm around the shoulder here, a hand on the thigh there, theyâre all over eachother.
Dallas is usually little spoon, heâs the leader of the gang, having to make split second decisions and think for everyone, it gets overwhelming. Heâs glad that for once heâs not the one who has to be in charge, that he can be the one to be cared for.
Their dates are calm, quiet and reserved, usually a trip to a coffee shop or a movie date at one of their places is more than enough to make them happy
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Random MasterGuide (Dallas/Bain) AU? Random MasterGuide AU. Part 1.
Bain had lost his composure only once before - when his eye was taken, because that was a lifelong debilitation he could have done without - and he was close to losing it again there and then. The only indication he even acknowledged what was going on was the slight tightening of his fingertips, curled around the end of the armrests of the chair he was strapped into.
The Murkies - Kento, and another senior commander he'd neglected to learn the name of - pushed a rumpled, bloodied Dallas to the floor in front of him. To his horror Dallas let it happen, groaning as he smacked into the unforgiving concrete.
This was not good.
The Dentist kept them waiting, like he always did. The man was well-versed in psychological warfare - he knew that anticipation and dread were a low-effort, effective way to further torment his prisoners. So he stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing directly into the camera pointing directly at the scene inside the cell - away from where Bain sat helplessly in his chair, with Dallas curled slightly into himself on the ground.
"What a wonderful day for a reunion," The Dentist turned to face them at last. He paused to peer at Dallas' prone figure, impressed that he had the wherewithal to not try and attack - he had enough sense to know that, at least.
When his eyes flicked up to meet Bain's single remaining eye, the sight of the man's practised neutrality made his lip curl.
"I have a proposition for you," he sneered, letting his anger subside and coalesce into something calculated and all-knowing - he knew exactly how the next five minutes were going to pan out, and that knowledge was utterly delicious to him.
"I will release both of you from this place. I"ll even have someone clean both your wounds before you leave. You will leave here in excellent health."
Both men knew there was an as-of-yet unspoken 'but' - they were just waiting for it. It didn't make sense to drag Dallas all the way here, to have him see Bain's face just to let them go. No, there was something more to this.
Bain was, for the moment however, distracted.
He tried as surreptitiously as he knew how to crane his neck, wanting a glimpse at the man still sprawled near his feet. As luck would have it, Dallas turned just enough so Bain could see his face - even luckier was how he swallowed down the wince that threatened to escape from his throat at the sight of him.
What was once a charmingly handsome face was streaked with blood. Bruises the colour of violence itself bloomed on his temple and brow bone. Clumps of hair had glued themselves to his forehead, held in place by the blood drying there. His eyes had the fuzzy look of someone teetering on the brink of concussion - but they sharpened when they made eye contact with Bain. Bain said nothing, watching as Dallas' eyes - somehow unblemished despite the fight he'd obviously put up - took him in.
He knew he looked a complete mess. His hair was lank, in places a knotted mess. The wound indicating where his eye had once been was weeping, wouldn't stop weeping, his body too weakened and malnourished to heal properly - Bain could feel how the dressing covering it was stiff and putrid with bodily fluids.
It was not, by all accounts, how he had hoped they'd meet.
navimind crack fic because this would never happen
Dallas is super busy with paperwork so he asks Bain to do his taxes for him. Bain goes âokay, by the way i know a way to give you a discount do you want itâ and Dallas agrees to that. Bain asks again if he cares how itâs done and Dallas is all âyeah yeah I donât careâ
A few months later and Dallas⊠gets into a car accident. Of course he does, heâs in the city! Itâs a minor incidentânobody is hurt and he can easily pay for itâbut to uphold his civilian persona he still has to call his insurance provider.
They ask him a bunch of questions and itâs super boring adult stuff until his claim comes back REJECTED. Reason? âYou didnât name your spouse.â Dallas is incredibly confused, to say the least.
Dallas does a bit of digging and sees that heâs legally married to a man called David Miller⊠which is a name he doesnât recognize.
Bainâs phone rings. When the navigator picks up, heâs immediately greeted by a âBAIN.â
Or, Nathan copes with the death of his best friend, with varying results.
// hurt/comfort, post canon, GHOOOOSTTT AU, uhhh psychic powers. trust
After everything that happened, all of the others found a way to move on. Dallas hadnât. He wasnât really built for that, for everybody looking up to him alone for guidance.
Dallasâ apartment was a pigsty, as his mother wouldâve said. He didnât remember how long itâd been since he washed his sheets, or the last time he went outside. That tape started to crackle and fray from the constant rewinding, so Dallas found a way to record it onto a USB. He didnât want to forget the voice of the one who saved his life more times than he could count, and that was the only existing record... a record of Bain having existed.
Every morning he would close his eyes against the light and go back to sleep. There was no point in getting up more than he needed to. The waking world was a nightmare, and the only time he was ever content was while he was unconscious.
Nathan, the Mastermind, the former Crew Chief, had no purpose. His dreams were filled with somebody holding him from behind, of arms wrapping around him as a show of comfort. Nathan would always relax, taking deep breaths. He felt a familiar stranger lean against him, and that was his form of happiness.
It was nice to think that someone saw, that someone cared, even if it wasnât real. It went on for months⊠until one night, the person holding Nathan shook with silent sobs, clinging to his back. Itâs only then that Nathan tried to look to see what was wrong, only for his comforter to leave him before he could console the other. He shouldnât have looked. He was so sorry.
Nathan woke up in a cold sweat, tears soaking the pillow, muscles trembling in exhaustion. He was unable to fall asleep for the rest of the day, no matter what he tried. It was oppressive, knowing that even that form of comfort was gone. Dread settled into his skull, a headache from knowing that there would be no reprieve from cold, hard lucidity.
The months following days turned into years since Bain was stripped from this world, stolen away by something they could barely comprehend. Their frame of reference was nowhere near the scope of the situation and Nathan, more than ever, knew that he was useless. No matter what he did. A few months ago was when he first âmetâ the stranger, and it made him feel better. Ever since, his imaginary comforter hadnât left him.
Until then. Until after, when that stranger came back for him the following night.
Dallas still remembers how he apologized and begged for his comforter not to abandon him. And the man froze up against Nathanâhe could tell from the rough callouses of the other personâs hand over his eyes, blocking him from seeing. The former Crew Chief gripped that strangerâs wrist, firm yet gentle.
They had laid there for what felt like forever until the man lowered his hand by his own accord.
Suddenly, the stranger wasnât as much of one as Nathan believed.
Bain tried to hold his gaze, glowing blue eyes staring back at him. âHow?â he had asked. The other man explained that he was watching him ever since he came to after his death, just like he promised. How Dallas wasnât able to interact with him, and about how Bain had only learned to hold him through his dreams very recently.
Nathan wanted to be furious, to yell at him for making him think that his navigator was gone for good. But⊠he couldnât find it in his heart to be upset at his best friend. âWhy,â Nathan had asked with no inflection, a statement rather than a question.
ââŠBecause I wanted you to move on... it wasnât working.â
Although he was angry, he couldnât fault Bain for wanting to protect him one last time. Heâd wake up, and then Bain would be gone again. Uncharacteristically for Dallas, he pushed through dream-fog to really think about what he told him. How did Bain feel, forced to see his friend suffer without being able to stop it? It was out of character for Dallas, but Nathan was the one who suffered through almost two years of loneliness, who ruminated on every memory and wondered how he could ever doubt his love for them. No, Nathan knew better, now.
âDonât go,â he said instead of anything else that Dallas wouldâve.
Bainâs eyes drifted off somewhere to the left, going through everything that was said before finally settling on a plan.
âI can try something. No promises, though. I canât say whether thisâll workâŠâ but at this point, Nathan couldnât care less about himself. If there was a way, then heâd take it.
Dallas canât recall what happened, even now. Beyond reaching out and really, truly touching a galaxy, stardust bursting across his vision as his hand sunk into Bainâs chest and brushed against white hot nebulae, blazing heatâ
All he knew was that now, he could see Bain.
Nathan was going about his morning routine, making coffee for another long day ahead of him. He nearly dropped his mug as he spotted someone familiar standing in his kitchen.
âŠBain blinked. He stared at Dallas questioningly. Then looked behind himself. And finally, back again. It finally seemed to click for him. Nathan wouldnât forget the way that Bainâs eyes lit up in joy, the smile slowly spreading across his face.
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@what-yadoking-likes re: the shipping opinions thing
masterguide: not my thing, but the appeal is completely understandable. bain sits outside of shippable territory for me. i like him as a mysterious figure; know too much and the magic is gone.
mastergrinder: yeah i think this is great since this ship got me into the payday fandom space. might be my own taste in men colouring this though. i feel like there's some ethical concerns but uh... i'm sure this can be happy and healthy. i'm interpreting it that way for my own sake. way too much horniness in this space tho, you filthy filthy animals.
wolfhox: grew on me as hoxton grew on me. it's sort of the ideal friends/colleagues to lovers progression i like. in my interpretation they really help each other improve and get better! everyone here has good taste.
ukranian chicken (vlad x jacket for the uninitiated): goddamn i hate how much i like this ship. firmly in crackship territory for me, but there's not that much of a stretch when looking at the two characters. i'd like to see more of this. consider this morbid curiosity.
