#ran this by a panel and this was the best we could come up with

[vbecker10]

Loads of Fun

Laundry Day (Loki x female reader Y/N)

How Could This Not Fit?! (Loki x fem reader Y/N)

Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: Bucky doesn't want to admit that he hasn't quite gotten used to all the new technology since he was freed from the Winter Soldier and his latest issue is with the dryer. Y/N catches him mid-struggle with the machine and comes to his rescue.

Warnings: some light swearing, feeling a tad useless and old, Bucky struggling hard with the laundry, Y/N being super awkward

A/N: So in Laundry Day (linked above) I wrote an off hand little comment about how much laundry Bucky needed to do and @alexakeyloveloki comment inspired me to write a short fic about it so... enjoy 💚

This is not the same Y/N from Laundry Day & How Could This Not Fit?!, this is a different one. Apparently a bunch of women in the Tower have the same name as you (haha sorry that's dumb but I wanted them both to be Y/N fics so here we are)

"Oh.... I messed up," you close your book and get up from the couch quickly as you suddenly realize it's almost midnight. You had meant to only read one more chapter but you had gotten lost in your book as always.

You grab your detergent from the closet, drag your overflowing laundry hamper to the door and slide on a pair of flip flops. "Every freaking time," you mumble to yourself as you open the door. Once again, you put off doing laundry until you completely ran out of clothes.

The elevator doors open and you step out into the basement. "At least no one should be down here," you think out loud thankfully.

You had tried to do your laundry this morning but you gave up on that idea as soon as you opened the door. Loki's girlfriend was sitting on top of one of the dryers with her legs around his waist. You put your hand on the door and shake the images of the two of them away, you don't need that to be stuck in your brain.

"Damnit," you whisper as you freeze completely, the door halfway open. Bucky has his back to you as he stares at the dryer, unaware of your presence. You had developed a crush on the super soldier and decided the best way to handle it was to avoid him at all cost like any other mature adult. You were terrified that you might say or do something embarrassing so you thought your best option was to never be alone with him.

You sigh, knowing you're out of underwear and options so you open the door the rest of the way. Before you can say anything to him, the dryer Bucky is focused on begins to beep loudly.

"I don't know what you want from me," he says to it, his voice full of frustration.

He opens the door and the sound stops, you are both completely still but as soon as he closes the door it begins again. He pushes the button on the panel to start the dryer but the beeping continues.

"Why are you so complicated?" he asks the machine, clearly unaware that he is no longer alone. He pushes another button that does nothing to quiet the sound then he groans loudly, nearly ripping the door off the hinges with his metal arm.

"Do you need help?" you ask quietly from behind him.

He closes the door quickly as he turns around to face you. You can see the frustration in his expression turn to embarrassment when he realizes you were watching him. As he opens his mouth to answer you, the dryer starts to beep again.

He pulls the door open and turns towards you again. With a look of utter defeat he says, "I think it hates me."

You cover your mouth to keep from giggling at the fact that a super soldier is losing a battle with an appliance. There is no need for you to add insult to injury, you think, but he does look like he is in desperate need of a hug.

You walk over to him and drag your hamper in front of an empty machine. "I'm sure it doesn't hate you," you reassure him with a smile and he shrugs, clearly not believing you.

"Can I take a look?" you ask pointing at the dryer and he nods, moving away from it as if it might explode at any second.

"You can try but I'm telling you, this one is evil," he laughs nervously.

"I think I can handle it," you try to sound sure of yourself. "Oh, I'm Y/N, by the way," you suddenly decide to introduce yourself as you close the door.

"I know," he answers and you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, the beeping continuing. "You work for the IT department," he says and you feel yourself blushing. "I've seen you around the Tower a few times."

"Yep, that's me," you respond, trying not to sound as if your internally screaming. He remembers my name? When did we even talk? I definitely would remember if we talked. Focus, focus, you yell at yourself, you've been staring at him for too long.

"Well, they don't train us to handle haunted appliances but I think I can handle this one," you say then immediately cringe. Why do I talk? You think, this is why I avoid him.

Your thoughts are interrupted by Bucky laughing. You turn towards your new favorite sound and he smiles at you as he leans on a nearby washer.

Ok, you think to yourself, time to show off and fix this stupid thing. You check to see what settings he's used but they all look right. Well, there's that, you think a bit annoyed but you're determined to figure it out. Suddenly you get an idea.

"Sometimes these things get weird when they are unbalanced or too full," you explain as you open the door and bend down. You reach in to level things out. A second too late you realize your holding a pair of his damp boxers and throw them back inside.

"Yep, these look fine," you close the door quickly and stand up, hoping he didn't notice but you can tell he saw you pick them up. "No. I mean... not that the boxers look fine, just like the load is fine. I- I'm just gonna..." you say, as you turn to face the dryer again. "I'm gonna die," you whisper as you rub your face with your hands. Good job dummy, you managed to make this even more awkward.

"Damn dryer is going to beat both of us," he says after a moment of continuous beeping and you can't help but agree with him.

"I think you might be right-" you pause, your eyebrows scrunching as a blinking red light catches your attention. "Has this been blinking the whole time?"

"I think so," he guesses. "Is that important?"

You sigh and nod, "It means I'm an idiot."

He tilts his head, his arms folded across his chest as he watches you open the dryer door again. You pull open the small door at the bottom and groan. He walks closer to see what you are doing but you don't notice until he leans over your shoulder.

"What is that?" he asks and you jump at how close his voice is to your ear. "Sorry," he laughs. "Thought you knew I was in here."

"Yea I just thought you were over there," you wave you hand towards where he had been and almost hit him in the face with the back of your hand. He dodges it easily and laughs lightly as you cover your mouth. "I'm so sorry," you mumble from under your hand.

"Its fine, you missed," he says with a grin. "So what's wrong with it?"

You pull out the lint trap and show him, "This thing is full so it won't run until we empty it." His expression tells you he has no idea what it is so you explain how a lint trap works and that if you don't clean them out you could potentially start a fire.

"Oh," he responds. "Wouldn't it be helpful if the stupid thing said that's what was wrong with it instead of just beeping?"

"It did," you groan then point to the light that is no longer blinking. "That's what the little light was for."

You wait for him to be stunned by your stupidity. You work for the IT department at Stark Industries, the most technologically advanced company in the world and you barely fixed a not broken dryer. You turn it on for him then turn your attention to finally loading your clothes into the washer.

Instead of responding the way you think he will, he sighs and takes a seat. "I don't understand any of this new technology," he admits.

You turn over your shoulder to look at him and see that he seems defeated again. "Don't worry," you try to make him feel better. "Stark likes new toys. He gets all the fanciest tech, no one knows how to use this stuff."

"I don't know how to do anything," he rests his elbows on his knees and leans forward. You turn on the washers and walk towards him. "Nothing is simple anymore."

"What do you mean?" you ask as you sit in the empty chair next to him.

"Everything is a computer now and the whole building talks. The fridge has more technology in it than the last car I drove, the toaster is voice activated, hell even the sinks are motion sensors," he says, his eyes focused on his hands as he talks.

You cover your mouth quickly to hide your laugh but it slips out. He looks at you and you lower you hand to ask, "I'm sorry but... who told you the toaster was voice activated?"

"Sam," he says then his eyes widen, "It's not is it?"

"No," you shake your head and can't hold back your laughter.

He groans, lowering his head again, "I'm gonna kill him."

"You didn't really believe him did you?" you ask in disbelief.

"I spent five minutes yelling 'toast' at it this morning before he said it was probably updating," he admits, covering his face with his metal hand.

You smile and imagine him getting more and more annoyed at the poor little appliance.

He sits up, resting the back on his head on the wall behind you. "I just don't know why everything is so complicated," he says and you suddenly feel guilty for laughing.

"I'm sorry," you tell him, looking down at your feet. "Have you tried talking to Steve about getting you up to speed on some things?"

"I don't want to keep bothering him every time I can't turn on a light or get ice out of the fridge," he says. "Steve adjusted fine so I just have to keep trying to figure all of this out."

"Who told you Steve adjusted well?" you ask before you can stop yourself.

He looks at you but doesn't answer so you continue talking. "I was part of the team that helped wake him up. Trust me, he freaked out plenty of times and he was confused by pretty much everything in the beginning."

He shakes his head, "I didn't know that, it's one of the only things we've never really talked about."

"I'm sorry we didn't have a team prepped for you when you joined. I guess we just sort of figured you had been awake a lot more than Steve," you say. "As the uh... other guy," you add awkwardly, trying to avoid calling him the Winter Soldier.

"Technically I was but..." his voice trails off and his flesh hand covers his metal hand as he looks down.

"The other guy didn't do much cooking or laundry, did he?" you ask, finishing his thought.

"No," he answers.

After a short silence you say, "If you want, I can help get you up to speed. A lot of the tech around here is actually pretty easy to use, if you know what your doing."

"You don't have to waste your time," he shrugs. "I'll figure it all out."

"Helping you wouldn't be a waste of time," you tell him with a smile. "Besides, I have a lot of free time. I pretty much do nothing but read when I'm not working so I'm always around if you need me," you add and groan internally. Try to make it sound like you don't have a life at all, good job, you think.

He smiles and makes eye contact with you, "That would be really helpful, thanks."

You get lost in how his smile lights up his face but the long beep of the dryer finishing thankfully means you don't stare at him until it gets awkward. He gets up to empty the machine and you grab your book from the top of the washer before sitting back down. As you open the book he sits next to you again.

"Oh," you close the book and look up. "Sorry, I thought- you don't have to stay down here. I've got a while left until it'll be done."

He looks at the time left on the washer and says, "I just thought we could talk for a bit but... if you would rather read, I can leave you to it."

"I can read this later," you smile. You mean to gently toss the book on the table used to fold laundry but you over shoot and it hits the floor, sliding away from you. You cover your face with your hands and get up.

"I've got it," he laughs. He places the book on the table and sits next to you.

"I'm not usually a disaster," you tell him and he chuckles. "Actually, I kind of am. That's why I'm way better off with books and the tech stuff then with people," you admit. "I always do something stupid or say something weird," you feel yourself shrink back in your chair.

"I think it makes you interesting," he replies with a smile. "I'm never quite sure what you're going to say or do."

You laugh nervously, "Me neither." A second later your brain turns on, wait did he say I was interesting?

"There is actually one thing you could help me with now, if that's ok?" he asks, keeping you from focusing too much on what he had just said. He takes out his phone, "I think there's something wrong with it."

He hands it to you and you almost drop it when your fingers touch, "Ha, I've got it. Sorry." You open the settings and start looking for usual problems but things seem fine. You look up at him, "What's wrong with it?"

He smirks and says, "It doesn't have your number."

"Wow," you can't help but laugh. "That was really smooth."

He laughs and says, "I'm a bit out of practice but I thought that was good."

"It was," you blush and add your number before handing him back his phone.

He looks at it then back at you and says, "Okay, but seriously, how do I text you cause I'm not sure how exactly to do that."

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚

(I don't have a Bucky tag list yet so sorry my Loki list didn't get a choice lol)

@soubi001 @michelleleewise @harlequin-hangout @ace-of-gay @xorpsbane @mochie85 @sheris532 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @lokiandbuckysdoll @winterfrostlovetriangle @cabingrlandrandomcrap @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @janineb86 @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @jiyascepter

#bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky au #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #bucky fic #bucky drabble #bucky imagine #former Winter Soldier #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james barnes #bucky mcu #bucky marvel #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes marvel #bucky barnes fandom #sebastian stan #seb

[lesbianpetertork]

hey can you give us a nice snappy mike criticism? we love to see it!

female skeletal structure

#sorry this was so late #ran this by a panel and this was the best we could come up with

[kbspangler]

This is the public statement from @alepresser and myself which went up at Webtoons tonight.

Now for some ranting. Just from me, not from Ale—she's innocent of the art crimes I've committed in the past, and boy howdy have I committed art crimes.

This is the first page of my first webcomic, A Girl and Her Fed. I started this thing back in 2006. (I don't actually need a head count of those reading this who weren't yet born in 2006. I'm sure you're delightful and I wish you well in college.)

And this is the last page I drew in early 2020 before I turned art duties over to Dr. Beer. It's better, right?

Well, these days, A Girl and Her Fed has pages like this:

I drew this comic for fourteen fucking years because it's a story I wanted to tell, and I thought webcomics were the perfect format for it. I didn't know how to draw. I got better through sheer obstinate perseverance and sticking to deadlines as best I could for, again, fourteen fucking years. I sought out a replacement artist when I ran into time constraints and couldn't do art plus writing anymore; I'm a much better writer than an artist, so I had no problems whatsoever kicking art to the curb.

The first time Ale sent me art that would go up on the website—art I hadn't needed to draw myself—I literally cried in relief because I had been grinding myself down for, yet again, fourteen fucking years.

So when I read comments from people who say they want to make a webcomic but can't draw themselves and therefore need to resort to AI, that little line between my eyes gets dangerously deep.

This isn't like I'm some old dude who's bitching over student loans getting cancelled after making regular payments. This is me, someone who threw raw art onto the internet like a monkey hurling fresh poo, because I wanted to make a webcomic and the art is part of the process of storytelling via webcomics! I could've (arguably should've) hired an artist right out of the gate, and that would've been part of the process of making comics, too: a partnership between an artist and a writer is also something which grows and develops over time.

For example, after Dr. Beer and I spent two years working on AGAHF, we decided we enjoyed our partnership so much that we set out to make another webcomic! It's great! It's got wonderful art and consistent storytelling! You should read it!

But turning art duties over to unaltered images generated by AI because you want to make a webcomic but "just can't draw" is, frankly, a bullshit excuse. I'm not talking about persons who are physically unable to draw due to disability—I'm talking about people who say they want to make webcomics but simply don't wanna do the art part.

Friends, if you don't want to show your entire ass in front of God and country, you don't actually want to make a webcomic.

Do the thing yourself.

If you're scared, don't be. Take the plunge. Set a goal of twenty strips and do the thing yourself. If you can already draw but can't write? Great! Write twenty strips, write forty panels, etc. You might surprise yourself. If you can write but can't draw? Great! Draw twenty panels and see what happens.

Whatever comes out of it, it's a thing you've done yourself. It's something new you've given to the world, no matter how big or small. Be proud of that. And if you need to partner with someone else to make your comic dreams work? You can do that, too! It's still a thing you've done yourself, and many projects are stronger when done together.

...but maaaaaaaaaybe hire that partner before you've busted your own ass for fourteen fucking years. That one's on me.

#webcomic #webcomics #side quested #comic #comics #indie comics #webtoon #webtoons #AI #ai art #ai generated #ai image #ai artwork #artificial intelligence

[webslinger-holland]

Best Pilot in the Galaxy | Tech from The Bad Batch

Summary: During a mission, Tech has a hard time allowing his ship to be driven by someone else.

Warning: slight angst and argument

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader Pilot

Type: Oneshot

The Marauder was sitting on a world in the Outer Rim called Cassander. It was a lush, green planet with a few major bodies of water. However, most notably, the planet was growing in population and had recently become Ord Mantell's most competitive trading rival.

The ship was nearly empty, except for a singular pilot sitting in the cockpit. She was not the rightful owner of the ship, but had been assigned this mission with the group of rouge clones that did own the ship. The squad was located somewhere in the capital city nearby, attempting to steal the package in which they had come for. The pilot waited patiently for the pickup call.

Now, the pilot had been waiting for nearly two hours for the call to come through the comms. She did everything she could think of to pass the time, which included rummaging through the squad's belongings. Though she didn't find anything of value.

The gonk droid made a noise as he waddled into the cockpit. The pilot went through the ship's log, seeing all the planets the squad had recently visited. Their last stop happened to be Ord Mantell where they were assigned this mission in particular.

"Y/n! Come in," Hunter's voice sounded desperate over the comms. She quickly jolted forward in her seat, pressing the button to relay a message back.

"Read you loud and clear," Y/n responded. She began clicking buttons on the control panel, preparing the ship for liftoff.

"We need a pick up. We've been compromised," Hunter explained. He was panting on the other end of the line, which probably meant they were running.

"What part of stealth mission is so hard to understand?"

"Just hurry. We don't have a lot of time. They're sending air support," Hunter warned her.

"Oh great," Y/n scoffed sarcastically.

"I'm sending you our coordinates," Tech interjected over the communications.

As the Marauder departed off the ground, the landing gear retracted back into the ship. The wings moved downwards as the ship was angled towards the sky. The engine roared to life; the ship began flying towards the rendezvous location.

The workers from the trading post were shooting their blasters at the criminals running away from them. They tried to keep up with them, firing relentlessly as they got away with some of their own goods.

It was Wrecker, Hunter, and Tech who were carrying the heavy cargo in the form of a shipping container. Normally, it would take four guys to carry the cargo, but since Wrecker was so strong, he was able to carry the left side without help. Behind them, Echo and Omega fired shots back at the workers. They covered them as the rest ran as fast as they could.

"Whatever is in here, it better be worth it." Wrecker grunted, dodging the blaster fire.

"As long as we get paid," Hunter responded.

The small squad continued running through the vast forest, maneuvering around trees in hopes of using its coverage to their advantage. They came into a clearing with the workers getting closer each second. All of the sudden, a cliff came into their view which caused them to halt in their place.

"Where's our ride?" Echo asked desperately. He peered around his shoulder with his gun still raised.

"There!" Omega pointed into the sky.

The Marauder rounded the corner of the mountain, coming into their line of view. It flew over to the edge of the cliff to meet them. The ramp lowered to hover right by the cliff, allowing the squad to climb aboard the vessel.

The blaster fire was beginning to hit the sides of the ship. The squad fired back, striking a few of the workers down. Once everyone was aboard, Hunter slammed the button on the side of the wall so the ramp was lifted.

"That's everyone," Hunter shouted. "Get us out of here!"

"Roger that," Y/n said.

Pulling a lever, the thrusters sent a powerful volt back which propelled the ship forward rapidly. By steering the ship, Y/n directed the ship back into the mountain range. She could hear the air support coming up behind them. She took a sharp turn to deter them.

The sharp turn caused each member of the squad to loose their footing and grab something nearby to steady themselves. Carefully, Tech quickly made his way into the cockpit. He leaned over the back of the pilot's seat, resting his hand on the panel for support. He hadn't taken the time to remove his helmet.

"That is sufficient," Tech announced to the pilot. "I'll take it from here."

"A little busy here," Y/n stated instead. She turned the wheel to the left, taking another sharp turn which made everything in the ship turn that way. And Tech ended up leaning a little into her.

"Wrecker," Tech ordered. He moved to sit in the co-pilot seat which was where Echo usually sat. "Get to the tail gun."

There were at least six smaller ships following them at this point, firing as many rounds as possible. The Marauder swayed to the left and right, expertly dodging each blast aimed at them. In the tail gun, Wrecker got into position before firing back at the ships. He managed to hit one of them, but it wasn't enough to bring the ship down.

Back in the cockpit, Tech began pressing a few buttons on the control panel. The pilot glared at him through the corner of her eye, knowing exactly what he was trying to do. She maintained her grip on the sides of the wheel.

"Transitioning controls back to co-pilot," Tech announced. He went to press the final red button, but she swatted his hand away. "What are you doing?" Tech demanded an explanation.

"I know how to fly," Y/n said through gritted teeth. Her eyes were still facing forward as she focused on the task at hand.

"I never said you didn't," Tech informed her. "I am simply stating that I am ready to transition controls back to me as I am more capable of flying this vessel than you. It is my ship after all," Tech said as a matter of factly.

Hunter rolled his eyes in the background. He knew it was pointless to argue over the comment.

"You weren't hired to be the pilot for this mission," Y/n argued back. "I can get us out of this."

With that comment, one of the blaster fires struck the right wing which caused it to catch on fire. The two of them peered out the window, spotting the trail of black smoke falling behind the hit.

"You were saying?" Tech replied. He gestured to the damage done to his ship. She rolled her eyes at him.

A few more ships began trailing behind them. They began firing more shots towards them. There was no way one ship could take the whole fleet down.

"Uh guys," Wrecker announced from the tail gun. "We've got more incoming."

Ignoring the comment, Tech quickly transitioned controls back to his wheel before the other pilot could protest. He gripped the wheel harshly, moving the wheel to take a sharp left hand turn. The ship was forced to swerve around the side of the mountain; a few of the enemy ships crashed into the sides as a result. She switched controls back to her wheel, taking a right hand turn. The ship weaved around another mountainside.

Behind the googles of his helmet, Tech squinted his eyes in slight irritation. He changed controls once again. He quickly grabbed onto the lever, pulling it backwards so the thrusters gave another jolt of energy. Now they were flying a little faster.

Nevertheless, another blaster hit managed to strike the back of the ship. The Marauder jolted forward from the force of the blast. The two pilots lurched forward in their seats. The others continued to hold onto things for support.

"You aren't doing much better," Y/n replied snakily. She reached forward to press the button once more. She turned the wheel as far as she could, which caused the ship to completely turn around. She pulled the lever for the extra push.

"What are you doing?" Tech exclaimed. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

Down in the tail gun, Wrecker began firing at the ships flying directly in front of them. With his expertise, he struck down three ships. Those ships exploded into a million pieces, fierce flames erupting around them. The Marauder flew through the fire without taking damage.

The enemy ships needed to turn around before continuing their chase. They quickly swerved their ships. Once the ships were facing the right way, the thrusters kicked in for that extra power. And the enemy continued their pursuit.

"I will only say this one more time," Tech's modulated voice spoke through his helmet. He turned to face her in his seat. His eyes looked angry behind his googles. "Relinquish controls now."

"Over my dead body," Y/n challenged him. She didn't take her eyes off him.

In the background, Hunter and Echo seemed to raise their eyebrows at the two pilots. They looked between them, half expecting one of them to cave in and go back to flying the ship. But neither of them faltered.

"Uh guys," Omega interrupted them.

Both of them directed their line of attention back towards flying the ship. With a quick maneuver, they managed to dodge the mountain they were heading straight for at the last second. A few more ships crashed into it.

"You're both going to get us all killed if you don't figure something out," Hunter shouted behind them.

Reaching forward, Y/n went to press a few more buttons, but Tech swatted her hand away this time. He went ahead and pressed his own buttons. He was punching in the coordinates for their destination.

"You are not the best pilot in the galaxy," Y/n claimed. She glanced at him through the corner of her eye. He kept putting in the coordinates.

"Hardly a measurable cause," Tech said with a roll of his eyes in annoyance.

"You haven't made the Kessel Run in fourteen parsecs," Y/n added. It was like she was insisting that it could be measurable.

"I have a theory that it can be done in twelve," Tech stated as a matter of factly.

"I highly doubt that," Y/n chuckled at the comment.

Suddenly, Y/n pressed the wheel forward with all of her might. The ship began to descend down at a rapid pace, shifting into a nose dive position. The ground was growing closer and closer with each second. The enemy ships following right behind them, firing non-stop.

Both Hunter and Echo were holding onto panels behind them. The force of falling forwards was pushing them back. They were unable to move.

"You have to pull up--" Tech ordered in a slight panic.

"Oh for the last time," Y/n shouted over him. "I know what I'm doing!"

At the last possible second, the wonderfully skilled pilot pulled the wheel into her chest so that the ship was pulled up. It was so close to touching the ground, but it missed it by a hair. The last two ships crashed into the ground, exploding suddenly and sending debris flying.

Now that the threat of the chase was finally over, Y/n could relax in her seat a little. The rest of the squad was completely silent, realizing that she had managed to get them out of the situation with little damage in the end. Beside her, Tech kept his eye on her since he was still angry with her.

The Marauder started to climb in altitude, shifting towards the edge of the planet's atmosphere. It finally passed through the atmosphere, flying through space. The stars throughout the galaxy sparkled as the planet grew small and smaller. It was now all behind them.

"Are the coordinates to Ord Mantell in?" Y/n wondered. Her voice was so much calmer now. Her shoulders slumped at her sides. But she refused to make eye contact.

"Yes. They are in," Tech informed her softly. His eyes softened behind his helmet. He studied her carefully, trying to figure out what she was thinking in that brain of hers. He quickly shook it off, directing his attention back towards the void of space in front of them.

Without thinking, Tech and Y/n went to reach for the lever to send them into hyperspace. Their hands grazed each other's with neither of them being any closer to the lever than the other. They both awkwardly pulled their hands away upon contact.

"I'm sorry," Y/n muttered under her breath.

He wasn't sure if she was apologizing for the situation they just came out of or the situation that just occurred with the lever. Nevertheless, she reached for the lever once again, pulling it back to send the ship into hyperspace.

Back at Ord Mantell, the Bad Batch went back to Cid's Parlor. They stood on the other side of her desk, having just delivered the cargo that she paid them to retrieve. She peered into the package, checking to make sure everything was there.

Behind the group, Y/n stood there in total silence. Her eyes were trained on the floor as she shifted in her place awkwardly. She waited for their boss to address them.

Beside her, Tech stood about an arm's length away. He glanced at her through the corner of his eye, taking note of her odd demeanor. He raised his finger and opened his mouth to say something to her, but he was rudely cut off.

"Looks like everything is here," Cid announced. She closed the cargo container. She began rummaging through her drawers, collecting the correct amount of credits to pay both parties.

Now Y/n went to take a few steps forward and made her way through the members of the squad. She stood in front of the desk. Her boss went ahead and placed a handful of credits in her hand.

"That is your cut," Cid told her. She handed the rest of the credits to Hunter. "And here is your cut. I'll call you when I have another job," Cid claimed.

There was a brief moment of silence in the room. Cid went to cross her arms over her chest. She narrowed her eyes at the company of six standing in front of her.

"You guys work well together," Cid said honestly. "You should work together more often."

In response, Y/n breathed a scoff under her breath. The boys turned their heads to look at her, slightly surprised at her reaction. She shook her head in denial.

"Yeah. Like that's ever going to happen," Y/n rolled her eyes at the notion.

Without hesitation, she spun around on the heels of her feet in order to head towards the door. She purposely bumped into Tech's shoulder a little too harshly. She left the room with the door closing behind her.

"What's wrong with her?" Cid scoffed. She looked at the rest of the squad for some form of explanation, but none of them said anything. "Fine! Be all quiet and mysterious. See if I care," Cid said.

By the time the Bad Batch left Cid's office, Y/n was nowhere to be found in the bar. They went to sit down at the bar so they could order drinks to celebrate another successful mission. They sat in complete silence, thinking about what transpired during the mission.

"Where do you think she's gone?" Echo wondered.

Though they never pulled missions together, the Bad Batch knew that the pilot worked for Cid and was stationed at Ord Mantell. They had seen her quite often over the past few months. They had grown familiar of her. And now they worried about her.

"The odds are that she returned to her flat," Tech explained. He pushed the bridge of his googles up to be more secure on his face. He kept his focus on his data pad.

"Probably," Hunter shrugged his shoulders. "But it's late. Which means it's dark out."

"Astute observation," Tech claimed sarcastically. He gave a single nod, but didn't take his eyes off his data pad.

"And she's walking back to her flat...at the edge of town...late at night," Hunter further explained.

"She will be fine," Tech stated. He knew where he was going with this. "She is always saying how she can take care of herself and doesn't need our help. Why would that change now?"

The other members remained silent. They turned their heads to take quick glances at one another. With a silent agreement, Hunter rose to his feet and went to stand by Tech. He roughly grabbed his shoulders and hoisted him out of his seat, much to his dismay.

"Go find her. Make sure she gets home safe. And apologize to her," Hunter ordered.

"I do not see why I have to be the one to apologize when I did noth--" Tech began. He was quickly cut off.

"Tech," Hunter said in a warning tone of voice. He crossed his arms over his chest, showing that he meant business.

"Fine," Tech said in defeat. "I will apologize."

With some hesitation, Tech grabbed his helmet and fitted it over his head. He began making his way towards the door of the parlor, leaving the rest of his crew behind. He walked through the deserted streets of Ord Mantell, passing a few shady people in the process.

Now Tech knew that she lived near the edge of town because she had once mentioned it during a conversation. Besides that, Tech really didn't know where to look and simply hoped he'd bump into her before she got home so he'd know she was safe. He passed by a few alleys, peeking through each one briefly.

The Marauder was parked in a hanger bay only a few blocks away from the parlor. Just as Tech passed by the hanger, he heard a familiar voice coming from his very own ship. He backtracked by taking two steps backwards. He peered into the hangar bay to glance at his ship.

Stepping into the bay, Tech tilted his head to the side in slight curiosity. The right wing of the ship began to move downwards until it lay completely horizontal. A few seconds later, Y/n began descending down the ramp with a toolbox in hand. She walked over to the wing of the ship.

Upon seeing her, Tech sharply inhaled. He felt the back of his throat close up and his shoulders tensed at his sides. He hesitantly took a few steps forward, fiddling with his fingers nervously.

Reaching upwards, Y/n placed the single toolbox onto the flat surface of the ship's wing. She proceeded to grab onto the wing before hoisting herself up onto it. She climbed to the center of the wing to assess the damage inflicted in the crossfire.

At this point, Y/n had no idea that he was also in the hanger bay with her. She opened the toolbox, rummaging through to find the right tool. The damage done to the right wing was a massive gaping hole with burnt edges from the fire. It would eventually need a panel welded to cover it up again. But for now, she focused on the internal repairs.

Thankfully, from the assessment, nothing major had been hit. A few bolts had gotten loose and a few parts needed to be replaced. She focused on that for now.

After grabbing a socket spanner, Y/n leaned down to place her arm into the gaping hole of the wing. It went so far down that her chest was practically pressed against the surface of the wing. She used the spanner to tighten some bolts.

"What...are you doing?" Tech decided to finally announce his presence. He stepped forward until he stood in the light coming from the opening of the hanger bay.

Upon hearing that familiar voice, Y/n only rolled her eyes to herself. She continued her work as she preferred to focus on repairs rather than on him. She grunted softly, making sure that first bolt was nice and tight.

"What do you want Tech?" Y/n wondered. She pulled her arm out of the hole to assess her work. She didn't even bother to glance towards him, knowing he would have sent her a look of disapproval for working on his ship.

Slowly, Tech began to lower his gaze to the floor. He contemplated his next words carefully, fighting the urge to lash out at her for meddling with his ship. He liked things to be a certain way and would have much preferred if he did the actual repairs. Now Tech didn't want to fight with her so he changed his approach.

"I analyzed that you left the parlor on your own and thought it would be better if I accompany you back home," Tech explained. She huffed at his answer.

"I've told you before," Y/n began. "I can--"

"Take care of yourself," Tech finished. He adjusted the lenses of his goggles though he still wore his helmet. He noticed how she fell silent. "Yes, I've gathered that much."

"Why are you really out here?" Y/n wondered. She went to lean down again in order to tighten more bolts.

"I...could ask you the same," Tech replied slowly. He honestly felt like this was the first civil conversation they had ever had.

"I wanted to make some repairs on your precious ship since it was apparently my fault," Y/n claimed. Her tone sounding a little harsher now. She tightened two more bolts in the process.

"That is not what I meant," Tech interjected. He took a step forward. He gazed up at her figure perched on the wing, attempting to reason with her. "I was...caught up in the moment. Shouldn't have said those things," Tech confessed quietly.

"Well, don't worry. As soon as I finish up these repairs, I'll leave and you'll never have to see me again," Y/n responded.

For some reason, Tech couldn't combat a response to her comment. He simply nodded his head understandingly. He lowered his gaze to stare down at the ground and allowed her to finish her repairs in silence. He thought for some time how he could fix this relationship since it wasn't his strong suit. Fixing things was more his style.

"Blast," Y/n's voice pulled him out of his train of thought. He glanced up at her.

The sleeve of her blue flight suit had gotten in the way of her repairs. She had rolled her sleeves up to keep the material out of her way, but the sleeves continued to fall back down to her wrists every time she placed her arm in the hole. She pulled back and rose to her feet.

Without hesitation, Y/n's hands flew to the top button of her flight suit. She began to undue the buttons in which she revealed the black tank top underneath. All the while, Tech studied her carefully as her nimble fingers worked steadily. His pupils dilated behind those goggles of his.

Upon reaching her waistline, Y/n had stopped unbuttoning and shrugged the suit off her shoulders. She tied the sleeves around her waist. She dropped to her knees to continue working without the distraction of her clothes getting in the way.

Slowly, Tech raised his hand to the side of his head and clicked the bottom to save the recording to the drive. He records everything and he was certainly glad he recorded that. He wanted to revisit the recording later for his own 'research' purposes.

"There," Y/n sighed. She sat back on her knees, wiping her dirty hands on the pants of her flight suit. "Repairs are finished."

Naturally, Y/n began to pack away the tools she used and placed them back into the box. She closed the lid of the toolbox, tossing it over the edge of the wing for it to land on the ground with a thump. She then proceeded to jump down off the wing of the ship, landing a little hard so her knees buckled slightly.

Just like she promised, Y/n had every intention of leaving the hanger bay so that they'd never have to see her again. She went to walk away, but just as she passed beside him, Tech reached out and grabbed her forearm. She halted in her steps.

Neither of them could look at each other. She felt his gloved fingers digging into her bare skin, but not hard enough that it would leave marks. She slowly turned to look at him, but he kept his head down.

"I...really came here to apologize," Tech confessed. When Tech lifted his gaze to meet her face, he saw how her eyebrows went up in slight surprise. It definitely caught her off guard.

"I see," Y/n thought about his words carefully. She shifted her balance from one foot to the other. "So all those things you said back on Cassander where just...what?"

He closed his eyes, seriously regretting everything he said. "Like I said earlier, in the moment, I was incredibly frustrated with you."

"Because I wouldn't give up the controls?" Y/n said flatly.

"No, because I recognize that my levels of dopamine are elevated when I'm around you and I distance myself from you in order to prevent that from happening,” Tech confessed before he could even stop himself.

But now, hearing what he just said, Tech quickly averted his gaze away from her. He was thankful to be wearing his helmet so she wouldn't see how bright his cheeks had gotten. He released his grip on her arm, letting it fall back down to his side.

For once, Y/n actually understood what he said. Her eyebrows rose in surprise at this sudden confession. She definitely did not expect him to blurt out his emotions that night, especially after their fight on the ship. She knew better than to tease him at a time like this.

"I-I don't understand why," Tech said rather sadly. That was the first time that he'd spoken those words out loud.

What broke her heart was the tone of defeat laced with his words. It told her that he'd been wrestling with these foreign emotions and thoughts for some time. He didn't know how to react around her and so he acted with defense. He pushed those feeling away, fighting against it.

Hesitantly, Y/n lifted her hands to the sides of his helmet. She went to remove his helmet slowly, revealing his face to her for the first time today. She tossed the helmet to the side without a care in the world, but he still refused to meet her gaze.

"You are probably repulsed by me," Tech began. "From the way I treated you and the words I said to--"

But Tech wasn't able to finish that sentence. Because Y/n had taken his face in her hands and leaned upwards to press her lips against his own. He froze in his place.

His eyes were wide open in surprise. His hands were elevated on either side of him because he didn't know what to do with them. He could feel the softness of her lips still against his own. Before Tech had the chance to process what was happening, Y/n pulled away from him.

The two of them were standing so close together; the chests being pressed against one another's. Their breath mingled as their noses bumped together once or twice. He glanced down at her lips because he wanted nothing more than to taste them once more.

His hands found their way down to her hips with one hand sneaking around her lower back. He pressed that hand into her back which brought her body even closer to his. She released a small gasp.

"Apology accepted," Y/n whispered to him. She played with the edge of the plastoid armor on his chest. "And I'm sorry for the way I acted towards you."

"Why cyare?" Tech wondered. He raised his hand to the side of her face, tucking a single strand of hair behind her ear. He held his hand against her cheek.

"I should have given up the controls. You are the better pilot and it is your ship," Y/n explained with a shake of the head.

"I am not the better pilot," Tech stated firmly.

There was a moment of silence between them. "I can't make split second decisions and calculations like you do when you're flying."

"Well, I've never done the Kessel Run." Tech argued back playfully. He smiled down at her. "At least, not in twelve parsecs."

"Fourteen," Y/n corrected him. "I did it in fourteen."

"Fine. Fourteen," Tech caved in.

Slowly, Tech tilted his head to the side and began to lean down with every intention of kissing her again. But the two of them were interrupted when someone cleared their throat over by the entrance of the hanger bay. The two of them quickly pulled apart and turned to face whoever had interrupted them.

The other members of the Bad Batch stood looking at them near the entrance of the hanger. It was initially Hunter who had cleared his throat to garner their attention; he stood with his arms folded across his chest just as a disapproving father would. Beside him, Wrecker and Omega were practically squealing with each other. They couldn't contain their excitement. And Echo averted his gaze in an awkward manner.

"Care to explain yourselves?" Hunter hinted. He glanced between the two of them with a playful smirk on his face.

"I think they finally confessed that they like each other," Wrecker interrupted. His words coming out louder than anticipated. He nudged Echo who stood beside him.

"You think?" Echo glanced at him.

"It's exciting, isn't it?" Omega smiled at them.

Meanwhile, Tech quickly collected his helmet off the ground and placed it over his head once again. He hoped it would cover the blush creeping up his neck to his face. He knew he wouldn't hear the end of the taunting from his brothers anytime soon.

"Well boys. It looks like we got another member on our crew," Hunter said slowly. "Welcome to the Bad Batch."

#the bad batch #the clone wars #tech bad batch #tech x reader #tech x y/n #tech x you #star wars #the marauder ship #tech oneshot #tech fluff #tech angst #tech imagine #hunter #crosshair #omega #wrecker #echo #tech

[marlynnofmany]

How I Became the Token Human

The sign said “Earthling Wanted” in large print, and I, a perfectly eligible Earthling, said “Heck yeah.” Busy space station life bustled around me as I stepped close to read the details on the holoboard. Other ads were for the usual range of odd jobs and social events, but this one was specific.

And it couldn’t have been more perfect for me. A courier ship was contracted to deliver someone’s pet cat to them in deep space (I guessed that a breakup had happened while the owner was away, or their temporary job had turned into a permanent one) and while the couriers were perfectly capable of getting the cat there, this was several days of travel, and they hadn’t the first idea of how to care for an Earth animal.

Well, I thought with no small amount of smugness, They just got themselves an expert. I copied the holo ad onto my phone, then found a vaguely-private corner of a public seating area and activated the call. I stood up straight and professional, as if I was meeting a wealthy new client with an ailing Samoyed. Would they want a detailed resume? A rundown of the places I’d worked and trained, my range of expertise on animals big and small? Or perhaps a description of what I would do in various unexpected scenarios?

Nope. The octopuslike alien who popped into view — deep green, harried, and female unless I missed my guess — only had two questions for me.

“Great, you look like an Earthling,” she said. “How experienced are you in caring for cats?”

“Very,” I said, ready to add more.

“Good. Can you leave immediately?”

“Yes,” I decided, thinking quickly. “I just have to grab my things. Where’s your ship?”

“Meet us at the semiaquatic spaceport before the shadow covers it.” She glanced at something offscreen. “We leave before the solar sails have to fold. Be quick.” With that, the call ended.

I blinked once, then shoved the phone into my pocket and sprinted down the corridor. Passersby stepped aside and gave me disapproving looks, especially the group of red-pink bugfolk who chattered after me in their own language, but I dodged through the loose crowd without hitting anyone. Nearly tripped over a smaller-than-average Waterwill, which could have been disastrous given their “column of jello” consistency, but I hopped on by with a quick apology.

Are Waterwills really that fragile? I wondered as I ran. My biological studies had all been Earth-based. I knew the best way to hold a chameleon, pet a cat, and catch a chicken, but I hadn’t the foggiest idea how the friendly blobmonsters worked.

Well, maybe I’d find out.

I skidded into my small room and threw things into the suitcase. There wasn’t much to pack, since this was a temporary stop. Five minutes ago I’d been planning to trudge back to Earth and look for a new job. My old workplace was under new management and doing a reshuffling that made for a perfect time to take a quick lap around the galaxy, something I’d always wanted to do. It had been a great vacation. But there wasn’t much call for a veterinarian in space. Or so I’d thought.

One more jaunt, I told myself. It pays well enough to be worth it. And they clearly need my help. With a look about the room for anything I’d missed, I zipped the suitcase and shouldered my backpack, then cancelled the rest of my reservation at the control panel by the door.

A few more button presses, and the door wooshed open to let me dash off through the residential area, towing my suitcase on its repulsor plate behind me. That bag was much better than my old wheelie-case, which was always tipping over when I turned quickly. This one did have a tendency to slide around like a toddler on ice, but I was an old hand now at pulling the strap just right to keep it from taking anybody out at the knees. And honestly, I usually walked at a more reasonable pace than this. But time was short.

I glanced at a multiclock as I passed an elevator hub; sunset was coming for this side of the station. I wondered who had decided to make the station rotate in orbit instead of keeping one side facing the sun, but that was beyond my pay grade. Maybe it got too hot otherwise.

Long lines at the food court made me slow down, edging past a variety of body types before I reached a clear area and picked up speed again.

Success, I thought. Didn’t even bump into a scaly tail. This door? That door!

I found the dry-air-breather’s access port and hurried into the airlocks where steeply angled sunlight was streaming in. I only stopped once, to swipe my ID in exchange for a cheapo force-field exo suit. Just in case the separation of dry air, wet air, and water left anything to be desired. I’d made that mistake once. One experience of scrambling for the emergency cutoff switch in an airlock rapidly filling with water was enough.

Those octopeople breathe dry air, right? I fretted while I retrieved the exo disk. I think so. They just like more baths and moisturizers than I do. I’ll be fine on a ship made for them. Assuming the one I talked to doesn’t live in a scuba suit while onboard. But surely they would have said. Probably.

With my ID back in my pocket and the control disk stuck to my chest (using technology that was basically the inverse of my suitcase), I shoved out into the spaceport in a cloud of my own air. I was greeted by more air, rows of parked ships under a glittering force field between us and the stars, and an impatient-looking green tentacle alien waiting in view of the airlocks. She waved me toward her ship as soon as she saw me.

Strongarms, that’s what they’re called, I remembered. I guess I’ll get a name for this one once we’re on the way. With golden solar sails spread wide, the little round ship looked like a cartoon bat, or maybe a lemon that wanted to be a pirate ship when it grew up. The epitome of dignity either way. I made a note to say nothing about that either.

“Right this way; stand back while the door shuts; the animal is in the cargo bay with more food and junk than any sane creature could eat in the time we’ve got; I’ll introduce you after takeoff.” The green Strongarm didn’t give me a chance to do more than nod as she spoke. “For now, come grab a crash seat in the cabin. I’ll introduce you to the crew after takeoff too.” She sped down the narrow corridor with a quiet slapping of tentacles on the shiny blue floor.

I did my best to keep up, despite having to bend over as I walked. This ship was not designed for a tall species. At least the walls and ceiling were a clean white, not one of those squishy organic ships that made my skin crawl.

“Got the human,” she announced as the door to the cabin spiraled open. She waved several tentacles back at me, one pointing at a chair near the wall that had a fighting chance of fitting me. “Quick-quick.”

I ducked through the sphincter-door (also gross, but less so), waved at the dozen or so random aliens, then shoved my suitcase behind the chair and sat. The chair was cup-shaped and way too small, but at least the back was flexible. I could feel a localized gravity field in place of a seat belt.

These folks have a lot of faith in their ship’s power source, I thought as I lifted my backpack to where it would give me neck support. Here’s hoping we don’t crash. For lots of reasons.

The crew were mostly ignoring me, though in a polite way. Strongarms, Frillians, and a few Heatseekers. Octopeople, colorful fin-covered bipeds who looked like tropical fish that had learned to walk, and little lizardy folks. All air breathers, though two out of three had aquatic origins. As the engine hummed to life, I shut off my exo field.

Damp air caressed my face like someone breathing on me from uncomfortably close. Great. But it was breathable and wouldn’t damage my stuff, and we were already in space, judging by the viewscreen that had just registered some very quick movement. Only stars and a few distant ships were in front of us now.

“All right, introductions!” announced the green Strongarm. “You can call me Kamm. What’s your name, human?”

“Robin Bennett,” I said, sitting up straight. “Earth animal expert at your service.”

Kamm accepted that and rattled off the names of everyone else in the room, then gave a quick rundown of the journey we could expect. Three standard days, no wormholes planned, no asteroid showers or other hoo-ha expected.

And now that we were clear of the space station’s shipping lanes, we could make good time and move about the ship.

Kamm hopped out of her seat and hit the floor with a wet smack. “This way, animal expert. Let’s show you to your charge and your room.”

I grabbed my suitcase and followed, trying to be graceful while simultaneously ducking and high-stepping through the door. It was like walking around in a kids’ playhouse.

At least the cargo bay had a properly high ceiling. It also had many boxes of cargo, and one metal cage with a very distressed cat. The I-don’t-want-to-be-here yodel echoed off every wall.

“Well, there it is,” said Kamm with a wince. “It’s been this loud the whole time. I hope that’s not a cause for alarm?”

“Not the sound alone, no,” I said. “Let me take a quick look. Hey, kitty.” I approached with a gentle voice and quiet footsteps.

The tone of the cat’s yowling changed when it saw me, aiming for pity over volume. Poor little gray tabby sounded very lonely. A nameplate with paragraphs of contact information said “PICKLE” in all caps.

“Hello, Pickle. There there, kitty; it’s okay.” I greeted the cat with a soothing babble of syllables, letting it sniff my fingers through the bars, only noticing once it quieted that Kamm had stayed by the door.

“Oh good,” the alien said. “It likes you. Will you want the whole crate in your quarters, I hope? There’s enough room.”

“Yes, definitely,” I said, standing back up. The cat mewed in protest.

“Great. All the food and whatever should fit too. Grab a sled.”

At Kamm’s directions, I helped maneuver a hoversled under the cage, then down the hall. She led the way with a different sled full of airtight cases covered in labels. Her cart was the more rattletrap of the two, which I appreciated; the supplies wouldn’t be bothered by any jolts in height, but an anxious cat sure would.

Pickle yowled all the way to my quarters. Our quarters, rather. Kamm was eager to rush off once I said I had everything in hand, and I couldn’t blame her. But the noise stopped as soon as the door shut.

“Mew?”

“All right, kitty,” I said as I took off my backpack. “That door seems solid, so you probably won’t run off and get stuck under the brake pedal, or however they fly this ship. Do you want to come out?”

Pickle didn’t, when I opened the door, but I made myself comfortable on the floor by the cage and read through the info packet that had popped up on my phone. Pickle was a girl cat, five years old, spayed, fond of cheese and toys that crinkled.

Eventually she crept out to accept some gentle scritches and a warm lap. I was considering moving to the giant squishy cushion that passed for a bed when the door chimed.

“Ow!” Those claws were sharp when Pickle launched off me to hide in the carrier. I got to my feet painfully, shut the small door, then opened the big one. The ceiling was low in here too.

A maroon-and-teal Frillian stood there, just barely short enough to stand normally in the hallway. “Did you bring food, or would you like to join us for a meal?”

I looked back at the quiet cat. “I do have some ration bars, but I wouldn’t mind meeting everyone properly. Let me dig out some food for my charge here, then I’ll be there. Which way…?”

The Frillian gave me directions, then scooted off. I turned to the multiple boxes labeled “food,” and checked the info packet. Pickle had preferences.

But of course she was too scared to eat. I left the tray of high-quality wet food inside the cage alongside a dish of water and a well-chewed toy mouse that promised to have familiar smells. Then I gave her some quiet time.

And I got some fun time! The crew turned out to be outgoing and friendly, with many a joke ready about the types of food that my species was known to eat. They were mostly a carnivorous set, of one kind or another (fish, bugs, rodents; not a T-bone steak among the lot). They weren’t phased by any kind of plant food, but the existence of dairy products as a whole was soundly denounced as vile weirdness.

“Honestly, it makes sense,” I laughed. “Milk is the first food we eat when we’re born, then we found ways to make it into a bunch of other fancy things.”

“Yes, but why?” asked a bright red Heatseeker, his lizardy face intent. “Organic drippings sound like the absolute last choice of edible foods.”

“Spoken by someone who has never tasted ice cream,” I told him. “Or pizza! Those are some of the best foods out there.”

“I’ve heard humans mention pizza before,” said a large gray Strongarm. He gestured with something that looked like an uncut sushi roll. “What actually is it?”

I happily explained, then had to go on a tangent about bread, since that was apparently a weird human thing too.

“Really? None of you folks have food made of processed grains?” I asked, to a row of blank stares. “Guess not, but okay: it’s crushed grain and water with yeast — those are little microscopic creatures that help turn it into proper food — as I understand it, the air bubbles in the finished bread are their farts — I’m not doing a good job of selling this, am I? I swear it tastes good!”

The big Strongarm laughed loudest. “No, but keep going! You were going to circle back to ‘cheese’ and why it’s not rotten.”

I did my best, eventually giving up while insisting that they would probably like at least some of my species’ barbaric dishes if they ever got a chance to try them. It was a fun conversation. And the food was all right too. A bit fishy, but I’d had worse.

I was sad to see the meal end, with everyone scattering off to their various tasks, some of which might have been fun to help with: untangling cords or organizing cases or deciphering random space messages. But my duty was with the cat.

Pickle was caterwauling loud enough to be heard from the end of the hallway. I hurried in and comforted her again, opening the cage and settling in to rest on the cushion-bed with her snuggled next to me.

With nothing else to do, I drifted off into a nap that was more restful than expected, given the alien bed. I woke, braved the alien bathroom, then went back to sleep. Even after the vacation I’d been taking, it was a bizarre luxury to have no demands on my time. I didn’t even know what kind of day/night cycle this ship was on.

And it didn’t matter. I slept as much as I needed to, ate a couple ration bars, fed and played with Pickle, and I read a book I’d been meaning to get around to. It was nice.

Crew members showed up occasionally to invite me to meals, but otherwise I spent the whole trip in my quarters. And as much as I enjoyed the camaraderie of dinnertime, the guilt I felt every time I returned to piteous meows kept me from staying out longer.

I really would have liked to, though. They even had a music night with instruments I’d never heard of. There were spares that I was welcome to try.

But Pickle had been scratching at the cage the last time I returned, and if she tore a claw because I wanted to know what an alien trumpet sounded like, then I would have failed in my duty.

So I stayed with the cat who purred like an outboard motor, and I did some more reading. It was still nice. Peaceful. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to take a turn at the radio station, listening for gossip and distress calls and triple-encoded secret messages.

The end of the trip caught me off guard. Kamm showed up with a ten-minute warning before the time we needed to have the crate stowed in the cargo bay, and me seated in the cabin.

“Already?” I blurted. “Right, I’ll be packed up in a jiff. Got the sleds?”

In the rush of gathering things, ushering Pickle back into the carrier, and hurrying to the cargo bay, I didn’t really have time to Feel Things about the trip ending.

But I felt them anyway. I’d miss my little snuggle buddy. I hoped she had a good life ahead of her.

The man waiting at the spaceport a few minutes later, as close to the landing pad as he was allowed, was a grizzled old space marine type. Stereotypes said he would have been more at home with some vicious beast as a pet, but I’d seen enough mismatched owners in my time to just smile at how eagerly he waited. And the way his face lit up at the sight of his cat was heartwarming.

Pickle’s distressed meows turned to welcoming mews when her human scritched her through the bars. I didn’t have to remind him that he owed money before he could take her away; he was on top of that. Though I’m sure Kamm would have made sure if necessary. The two of them handled the transaction with speed. Then to my surprise, he opened the cage there on the landing pad.

Pickle clawed her way up his thick jacket to settle purring onto his shoulders, like this was where she was meant to be. Maybe it was.

“Thanks so much for bringing her to me,” the man said to Kamm, with a nod to me as well. “Gonna introduce her to the new family; now everyone I love is in one place.”

Kamm said a polite goodbye while I gave him a warm smile and wiggled my fingers at Pickle. The cat gave me a slow blink, purring hard and nuzzling his chin. Then the pair of them walked off to the rest of their lives.

“Come grab your stuff,” Kamm told me. “He left a big tip, which I’ll pass over to you. No way we could have done a thing to calm that creature ourselves.”

“Thank you,” I said. “It was my pleasure.” It really had been; going home seemed anticlimactic now. It was just a pity I hadn’t been able to socialize with the crew more. They were good people.

I followed Kamm back into the ship for the last time — or so I thought, until a pair of crew members called from the radio station about a message from their sister ship.

“They had a fuel leak, and only managed to coast into orbit of a moon four days out,” said the small Frillian. “They need fuel, repair supplies, and extra food for their cargo.” He looked from Kamm to me. “I don’t know what planet the cargo is from, but if you don’t have to be anywhere just yet…?”

I grinned. “I don’t, as a matter of fact. I’ll happily come along if you’ll have me.”

Kamm flipped a tentacle in what was probably a shrug. “Why not? It worked out well just now. And I want to see if you can play a flange horn.”

“Me too!” I said. “Let me just grab some provisions before we go. At least one of you folks has to try pizza.”

This was years ago now. I never did get a regular job back on Earth, and I don’t regret it one bit.

(A couple crewmates did regret the pizza, but at least it was funny.)

~~~

This is official backstory connecting these comics with this novel. Robin has had a lot of adventures, and is about to have more!

#the Token Human #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #earth is a deathworld #haso #hfy #earth is space australia #eiad #writeblr #my writing #humans #aliens #cats #in spaaace #Robin Bennett #the spacefaring veterinarian and human-at-large #once again explaining cheese to nonhumans #always a fun conversation

[jpitha]

Drives like Crazy

So, humans have this thing where they underestimate risks that are long term, and overestimate risks that are short term. Since we come from such a dangerous world, it kind of makes sense. In the deep recesses of the past, if you were overly wary about that bear over there, you were more likely to survive. But eating healthy all life long to avoid heart disease? That's a problem for Tomorrow Me.

It could be that Xenos that come from less dangerous words have a different view of risk than we do, and would be... concerned by the things that we do all the time because we underestimate their risk.

****

"Set helm to manual, I have control." Jesse's voice was smooth and confident as she sat forward in the leatherette upholstered seat on the command deck. A joystick and a panel with buttons rose out of the floor as foot pedals rose up to meet her booted feet.

"Captain, I would like to register a concern." Unity said. They were the transport freighter that Jesse was now controlling, and they were clearly against this.

"Your concern is registered and noted" Jessie didn't stop setting up the controls. "But as you are aware, manual controls must be tested and verified working quarterly."

Mer'ally, the chief engineer, and unofficial voice of the K'laxi crew onboard Unity turned from her station and looked at Jesse. "I mean, Unity has a point. While we do have to test the manual control system, we don't have to test it while coming to dock at Hyacinth during one of the busiest times of the year."

Jesse's smile was thin and strained. "Once again, your concern has been noted." Jesse's eyes flicked up to the K'laxi staring at her. Mer'ally was unusually tall for a K'laxi, she was nearly Jesse's height. Her reddish orange fur complimented her large green eyes. With her large expressive ears flicking as she spoke her worries, Jesse couldn't help wonder why she was so distracted by her. She shook her head slightly. "Regardless. We have to test manual controls, and I want to practice docking with Hyacinth. We need to know how to pilot Unity in all situations, including docking."

Unity sighed. They weren't going to be able to talk her out of this. "As you wish, Captain, relinquishing control."

Jesse harumphed and got back to work. She ran the joystick in all directions, and everyone felt the ship wiggle in response. With a satisfied nod, Jesse adjusted the inertial compensators down a touch. She wanted to be able to feel the ship move, but not enough to get people motion sick. She nodded in satisfaction and looked up at the other people with her.

"Yen. Please request docking with Hyacinth."

"Aye Captain." Yen bustled at her station. Jesse wondered how she lucked out that all the officers on the command deck today were women, and once again had to push that thought out of her mind. She was on duty now.

After a moment Yen called out. "Docking approved. We're clear to dock on the lower ring, bay 33."

"Bay 33 aye." Jesse punched in the location on her control screen, and her vision was overlayed with the best path to the dock. She'll have to match rotation with Hyacinth, but since it's so large, they shouldn't have to go too fast. She goosed the thrusters and Unity started moving forward.

As they trundled towards bay 33, Jesse put Unity's controls through their paces. She gently rolled the ship to make sure the maneuvering thrusters worked correctly, she tumbled it end-over-end and she yawed it in place all the way around. It was actually a lot of fun. She could imagine the looks the other ships gave as Unity spun and pirouetted in place as it moved slowly towards their docking bay, but Jesse didn't care. Maybe she wanted to show off.

As the last maneuver finished, Jesse spun Unity such that with a few puffs from the main drive they'd match rotation with Hyacinth and being docking. Right before she fired the main drive, her console squawked.

"Collision imminent! Collision imminent! CHANGE DIRECTION NOW"

"What?" Jesse pulled hard on the joystick, and the front thrusters fired, sending the noise high while also stopping their forward momentum. With the compensators set low, everyone lurched forward in their seats. In the distance, Jesse heard a crash as something tipped over.

Unity called out. "Captain! There's a Starjumper that's thrusting away from Hyacinth without getting departure permission. Hyacinth is firing on it, and it's coming this way!"

"Why would they be shooting at a Starjumper?" Mer'ally's tail flicked. "Did they skip out on their docking fee?"

"Doesn't matter why right now." Yen didn't move her head from her console. "Comms are screaming with people yelling at them. They're not responding to anyone. They're on the run."

Jesse's screen was filled with the sight of one of the gigantic old interstellar starships bearing down on them. Orange lights of the tracers from the slug launchers oh Hyacinth were zipping past them. She felt ice in her veins as she realized that the Starjumper was going to hit them unless she did something drastic. An instant later, the collision alarm screamed loud again in the ship.

Jesse toggled ship-wide comms. "Juke charges! Brace for shock!" She fired the juke charges; small emergency explosives fired out of Unity and immediately exploded with their characteristic double boom. The area around the juke charge launchers were reinforced and bowl shaped to catch as much of the energy from the explosion as possible. The blast pushed the ship away with a lurch just as the Starjumper and slugs from Hyacinth passed where they were not a second ago.

"Hold tight everyone, I'm going get us away from here" Jesse's hands and feet danced over the panel as she increased power and started to thrust away. With the compensators still turned down, everyone felt the sickening drop as Unity dove and spun and turned as they were trying to get away from the attack.

"Jesse! You're too close to that ship!" Unity didn't even bother to call her Captain. Jesse saw the ship that Unity mentioned almost too late. She came hard on the portside thrusters and everyone held their breath as they glided by the ship.

"You were close enough to scorch their paint Jes-Captain." Mer'ally sighed in relief and grinned.

"The important thing is we missed, Mer." Jesse looked up and flashed a smile and a wink. Mer'ally quickly turned back to her station, but not before a ripple of fur went down her body, a K'laxi blush.

Unity sounded testy. "Captain. The danger has passed and you have more than proven your piloting ability as well as the function of the manual controls. Can I please have the helm?"

Jesse leaned back from her station and stretched. She was concentrating so hard it felt like no time at all had passed. "All right Unity. I release the helm. You have control."

"Aye Captain. Resuming docking with Hyacinth."

Now all Jesse had to do was wait for docking to complete and stress about whether she could ask Mer'ally out on a date. Unity was a civilian ship and they all worked for Houndstooth, one of the major Sol based corporations, so it wasn't like they had to worry about a higher ranked officer hitting on a lower ranked one, but Jesse still worried. She might say no. It was going to be a long wait to dock.

#writing #humans are space orcs #humans are deathworlders #humans are space oddities #humans and aliens #jpitha #sci fi writing #the k'laxiverse #humanity fuck yeah #hfy

[seat-safety-switch]

SO-LAR-FUCKING-POWER. Or, as the appearance-obsessed image consultants want us to refer to it now, "photovoltaic energy." Yeah, okay, nerds. A lot of people have been shit-talking solar in the press, because they're afraid that individuals will set up their own power generation facilities in their backyards, roofs, sheds, community centres, what have you, and start pumping out electricity. That will make the big electricity corporations sad, so they've paid all these handsome people to come on the news and yell about it.

Let me put it this way: if there were a magic machine in the sky that shot out a bunch of candy bars every day, like an absolute shitload of Milky Ways, and you were hungry, would you run out into the backyard with a bucket? Or would you feel bad about it because Bob Milky Way, up there in his hateful Cadbury tower, is no longer able to perpetuate his existing business model?

Personally, I've gone big-league on solar, mostly because the utility company disconnected my house after decades of non-payment. Now, I can't afford the new stuff: even the cheap panels that the proud people of China throw onto AliExpress are too costly for my budget. What I've done instead is dig through the landfill (after hours, of course) for several hundred solar desk calculators.

These calculators are electronic devices that we used to use before smartphones in order to compute numbers. And they ran on the sun, because replacing batteries is annoying. After breaking open the calculators, I looped their solar cells together in series, and eventually built a big enough panel to cover my entire roof.

When I say it like that, it sounds easy, and this is the myth of engineering progress: it was actually a lot of stop-and-go stuff, bumps in the road. Rooftop fires. Wiring fires. I fell off the roof a few times. The cops came by at one point and were idling in front of my house, waiting to see if I'd come outside so they could bust me for stealing all those calculators from the dump. In the end, though, I am now able to charge my phone for free, and even run my coffee maker if it's a particularly sunny day. That coffee is the best-tasting coffee I've ever had, because it tastes like billionaire tears.

And I won't stop there, either. Things are going to improve dramatically at the old Switch Family Solar Array as my bougie neighbours throw out their old panels in order to upgrade to the latest and greatest. Pretty soon they'll be paying me to take them – I have it on good authority that the dump charges you like minimum $20 this weekend. If you flip to the last page in my investor deck, you'll notice that I have projected to be able to run my refrigerator by 2025. You better get in on this shit, or we'll bury you with the coal.

[botboots]

Hey! I'm probably SOOO late to transformers fanfics and one shots but I've come with this prompt,( I hope you like it enough to write it!) could you write Ratchet x injured reader, g/n or female. Injured shoulder, and maybe trying to hide it from him? Also in Tfp? If all this isnt too much to ask? Thank you for considering! Have a good day/ night

a/n: heehee this one was fun. the dialogue is kinda splotchy because theres a lot going on in my brain rn but!! hope you like it <3 also reader is cybertronian bc there are NOT enough cybertronian!reader fics out there and theyre very fun to write tbh. hope thats okay!!

ALSO! guidelines have been updated so before anyone submits a new req please read it! and please please request mirage/rotb fics oh my god im obsessed with it ROTB WAS SO GOOD </33

warnings: very minor injuries, pining <3 word count: 1059 (GN, cybertronian!reader) continued under the cut

-----------------

The purple and green swirl of the ground-bridge closed behind you as you followed your team back into base, the lingering energy buzzing under your plating.

Glancing at Bumblebee, a small twinge of pity struck you as he made his way over to the medical bay. The scout had taken a few nasty punches from Breakdown and clearly wasn’t feeling too hot; dents littering his armor.

“We showed ‘em, huh?” your focus was snatched when Bulkhead caught you off guard with his usual celebratory elbow-bump, sending you stumbling a little from the force. A sharp pain ran up your arm to your shoulder and you winced.

“Yea- totally.” sending the wrecker a strained smile, you gave him a half-hearted push back. He tilted his head, about to open his mouth to ask you something when Miko booked it over to the two of you, questions spilling out of her mouth at a mile a minute. All of them were something gore or violence related, asking Bulkhead if he got any pictures of some “hardcore massacre-ing”. The girl's interests were a little concerning, but endearing. Nonetheless, you took the opportunity to slink away and avoid any more attention. Angling your helm, your face scrunched up at the sight - and feeling - of the wound on your shoulder.

Too focused on the fight in front of you, a stray Vehicon had been able to sneak up behind you and catch you by surprise. Fortunately for you, Vehicons were mass trained for quantity over quality and didn’t have the best shots. The blast grazed your shoulder, tearing between some of your paneling to the barely exposed wires. It hurt like a bitch at first, but adrenaline buried it enough that it wouldn’t distract you - plus it was small enough that none of your team noticed. Now that you were back at base, though, the piercing sting prodded at your processor incessantly. You did want to go and see Ratchet about it - always finding some kind of excuse to be around the mech - but he was dealing with Bumblebee right now, and you didn’t want to add to his plate. Not like it was anything life-threatening, anyway. You could just try and patch it up yourself - you’ve spent enough time with Ratchet to pick up a few things yourself.

You stole a glance at said medic, who you only just noticed was looking right at you. Immediately you realized from the questioning look on his face, raised brow and all, he had probably caught both your reaction to Bulkhead bumping into you and the grimace you had made at your shoulder. Optimistic, you shook your head at him, giving the mech a meager thumbs-up and a “I'm-actually-totally-fine” smile. He gave you a hard stare, and your spark sank when he motioned you over with a flick of his digits. You begrudgingly made your way over to the medical bay. As you neared, Ratchet had already cleared Bumblebee and was shooing him out. The scout passed you, and your attention was focused on Ratchet waiting with a cocked helm and his ever-present RBF. Standing awkwardly under his gaze, almost scrutinizing, you huffed. Without a word, the red and white medic picked up his scanner, turning it on with a loud click and running the green laser over your frame.

“Really, doc - I’m fine. It’s nothing.” you tried, and failed, as he kept the device lingering at your shoulder. With a deadpan look covering his faceplate, he put the scanner down and placed his servos over your shoulder plating. You grit your denta to keep a pained hiss from leaving you, wincing when he felt around the frayed wiring.

“Nothing, huh?” you pouted at his scoff, his metal brows knitted together as he examined the shot that had barely missed doing any serious damage. “Sit.” he ordered, gesturing to the medical berth while he moved to grab some tools from a nearby counter. Embarrassment was settling in your chassis, but you did as you were told.

It technically didn’t take long to patch you up, but the old mech made it seem like eons to you with the way he was muttering about “some of the team having egos too big for their own good.” It only made the burn of embarrassment grow, and you ducked your head when he gave you a pointed look. Ratchet was nothing if not thorough in ensuring you knew when he disapproved of something.

Soon enough he finished up, giving the patched wound a once-over.

“Anything else you’re not telling me?” he questioned, the familiar lilt of sarcasm back in his tone. That at least steadied your nerves a little.

“No, sir.” you mocked, raising one of your servos in a half-assed salute.

He scowled, crossing his arms, “I’ll have Optimus enforce mandatory health checks every time you come back to base.”

Frantically shaking your helm, you raised both servos defensively, “Okay, okay!” you sputtered, “Won’t happen again.” His optics narrowed, giving you a hard stare, and you released a heavy sigh. “Promise.”

Ratchet debated it for a moment, still having half a mind to just assign the checks anyway, but as you kept your optics trained on his, the mech’s will buckled and he huffed a quick, “Good.”

You both were staring at each other for just a moment too long before Ratchet gave a quick cough. “Come back if the pain flares up again.” he waved you off as he made his way back to his usual spot at the terminal. You blinked, watching him walk off with a slightly heated face. Awkward. Hopping off the medical berth, you were careful not to irritate your shoulder and mess it up more than it already was. As you walked past Bumblebee he whirred to grab your attention. You paused, turning your head to him with a raised metal brow.

The scout chirped at you teasingly from where he sat, nodding his head way too obviously towards you and then Ratchet, who was already burying himself back in his work. Your optics widened, immediately narrowing into an offended glare as you jabbed a digit towards him.

“Don't. Even.” you grumbled, folding your arms and walking briskly away from Bumblebee’s poorly stifled, chittering laugh that echoed behind you. Your previous pity for the mech quickly dissipated as your faceplate burned. Primus.

#transformers #transformers x reader #transformers fanfiction #tf x reader #tfp x reader #transformers prime #transformers ratchet x reader #tfp ratchet x reader #ratcher x reader #transformers fanfic #tfp fanfic

[ladykailitha]

Can Anybody See Me? Part 8

Now we’re getting to the reason behind the title.

On the tagging, I HAVE REACHED MY HARD AND FAST LIMIT OF 50. I love the response this story has gotten. I do. I love you all. I love every reply, like, and reblog. It brings me so much joy, you don’t even know. But tagging is hard for my ADHD brain. I have gone up from 20 to 30 and finally 50 as my system improved but I think if I do any more than that I’ll go insane. So any future tagging requests will be ignored. Sorry.

The best way to keep update on these stories is follow me and set me on notifications. I rarely do a lot of reblogging these days (too busy churning out stories like whoa), so more often then not a post will be a story. I try to post at least once a day (some times twice if I’m trying to rush through the posting a bit like I did to make sure the Valentine fic got out in time without making people wait on Vamp!Eddie), just never at set time.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

*

When Eddie heard how Gethin had done it, he was starting wonder who the smart twin was, because it was brilliant.

The chemicals for developing film were kept in Miss Chen’s room and he took some quick pictures of Steve’s piece before promptly spilling some of the chemicals that the teacher had in her class room all over it.

It ATE the paper. Gethin had tried to mop it up before it got too bad. But alas, it was too late.

“Mr Hughes!” Miss Chen protested. “Please be more careful next time!”

Gethin apologize profusely. He begged her to give the poor student whose piece he had just destroyed an extra week to finish the project, because he had been soooo careless.

She agreed.

He ran out of her class with the chemicals he needed to develop the film in his camera.

Pictures he slipped into Eddie’s locker during lunch.

*

After school Eddie waited until the halls were empty before he opened his locker. He knelt down to pick them up and blinked. Steve was really good. The composition was sound and colors were great.

The page wasn’t even that scary. It was just of this boy walking up to a house in the dead of night. In one of the panels you could almost make out something watching the boy, but it was the vague sense of unease made it so you could tell it was going be a horror comic. It was good. And suddenly Eddie was pissed at Miss Chen for calling Steve out for this.

Especially since Eddie’s own comic was about slaying a dragon.

He shoved the pictures back into his backpack and slammed the locker shut.

“Well what have we got here?” a voice said from behind him.

Shit.

Eddie turned around slowly. There was Tommy H, Billy, and Kyle, standing there with their arms crossed.

“Hey, boys,” he said with a grin. “You looking to buy? I’ve got about four kilos.”

Tommy and Kyle looked at each other, nervously. They didn’t want to antagonize their drug dealer.

Billy ran his tongue over his teeth thoughtfully. “I just wanted to talk. I’ve been seeing Harrington hanging around you freaks lately and wanted to know why?”

Eddie folded his arms. “I get you’re new here, Hargrove, but your friends should have told you: I’m the king of picking up lost sheep. I like bringing people into my fold that the rest of this school has deemed outcasts. Steve Harrington has become one of those. And how could I resist such a tempting treat as the former king of Hawkins High?”

“You leave him the fuck alone, you hear me?” Billy growled.

“Or what?” Eddie asked. “You’ll do me like you did him? And then where will you get your weed? Because if you do I will make sure that I don’t sell to you or any of your little friends.” He wagged his finger as he indicated to Tommy and Kyle. “I’ll fucking cut off the entire basketball team. Don’t think I won’t. How long do you think you’ll be king then, Hargrove? When suddenly everyone’s supply dries up because you fucked with me?”

Kyle tugged on Billy’s arm. “Come on, man. Whatever your beef with Harrington is, it’s not worth this.”

Tommy just stood there looking Eddie in the eye.

“So what’s it going to be, Hagen?” Eddie asked. “You going to side with King Jackass here and alienate the whole fucking basketball team because you’ve got a hard on for Harrington? Or are you going to the smart thing and walk away?”

Tommy grabbed Billy’s other arm. “Let’s go.”

Billy wrenched his arms from both of them and stalked off.

“Run along, Tommy,” Eddie said making a shooing motion with his hands. “Go suck Hargrove’s dick.”

Tommy made to swing at Eddie, but Kyle stopped him. “Don’t do it, dude. He’s trying to get a rise out of you.”

Eddie grinned. He blew a kiss at Tommy and then walked off, a nervous energy humming in his veins.

He walked out to his van and found Steve waiting for him. Eddie smirked.

“You waiting for me, big boy?” he asked walking up to the other boy.

“I wanted to thank you for what you did about my art project,” Steve explained. “And then I saw Billy and Tommy and I got worried.”

Eddie patted his cheek. “You’re sweet, but I told you, I’m immune.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Plus, pretty boy,” Eddie said. “You won’t have to worry about that lot anymore. They came after me and I set them straight. If they want to keep buying weed, either they’ve got find someone new or leave you the hell alone.”

Steve sighed in relief. “So everything’s cool?”

“Cool as can be,” Eddie agreed. He opened the door and hopped into the van. “And I didn’t do anything to your project, Stevie.”

He saluted Steve and drove off, leaving behind a very confused, but very happy Steve Harrington.

*

Steve kept his eye on Tommy and Billy but by the end of the week there was no doubt that whatever Eddie had said them, made them back off.

“Hey, Steve,” Gareth said, nonchalant. “Did you know that there chemicals used in the art department for all sorts art related shit that can dissolve paper?”

Steve cocked an eyebrow at him. “You don’t say.”  

“Didn’t you now,” Brian said with a grin, “Gareth’s brother is a big photography nerd.”

“Oh, he must know Jonathan Byers, then,” Steve said, deliberately not taking their bait.

Gareth cocked his head to the side and hummed. “Maybe not. Different grades. But still could do, I suppose.”

Steve grinned. “Miss Chen did say it was a photography student that ruined my comic, maybe I should go thank Jonathan.” He winked at them and they burst out laughing.

Which was actually what Steve thought had happened when Eddie denied all knowledge of what happened. That Jonathan had recognized the scene of Steve on his way to Jonathan’s house and messed it up, worried Steve might get in trouble with the government.

But Gethin doing it made Steve sigh in relief. He already owe his life to Jonathan, owing him for the art project, too? That was too much for even Steve’s wounded pride.

Steve had already fobbed Nancy off earlier in the week because Jonathan had snitched.

She was practically screaming about being so careless. As if Steve would make the characters look like them. He had asked her if she had seen it herself and when she admitted she hadn’t, Steve told her to back off. Which lo and behold, she actually did.

“It’s bullshit Miss Chen even said anything,” Eddie growled. “It’s of this boy walking up to a house at night. It could’ve been of a boy going to pick up a girl on a date, but because Steve used muted tones and creepy vibes, she decided it was sad or some shit and threatened to call Steve’s parents.”

The other three boys looked at each other. “That is bullshit,” they all agreed.

Steve shrugged. “I changed to be about a lost little girl who connects with a social recluse and they become a family. If she gives me shit about that one, I’ll kindly let Chief Hopper know that Miss Chen thinks him and his adopted daughter’s story is toooo depressing for school.”

“I like the way you think,” Jeff said with a cackle.

Steve grinned. Silence descended as the boys ate their lunch. As they were packing up, he casually dropped a bomb on them.

“Miss Lucy wants me to try out for the school musical...”

“No way, dude!” Eddie said. Miss Lucy was the drama teacher. Her last name was one of those that looked easy on paper but really wasn’t. So she had all her students call her by her first name.

“I thought you were new to the whole drama thing,” Brian said.

“I am but she seems to think I’m good enough to tryout,” Steve said with a shrug.

“Are you going to do it?” Eddie asked in all seriousness.

Steve bit his lip. “I want to but I don’t want people to get mad at me if I do a get a part.”

Gareth’s brow furrowed. “Why would they be mad at you?”

Steve shrugged again. “That a newbie like me is taking away a roll from one of the more seasoned kids?”

“If that’s the case,” Jeff said, “then fuck them. You didn’t know you had a talent for it.”

Steve smiled warmly at them. “Thanks, guys.”

Eddie clapped him on the back. “You go get ‘em, tiger!”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, okay.”

He felt the warmth from where Eddie touched his back all day long. And he carried that feeling all the way through his audition.

*

“You are such chicken shit,” Eddie told Steve. The results were back for call backs and he was too afraid to look.

“I know, I know,” Steve murmured. “But I would rather walk through an entire pack of demodogs then look at that stupid piece of paper.”

“What the fuck is a demodog?”

Steve blinked. “Something the kids made up for their D&D campaign.” Which was true. Mostly.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie said, licking his lips. “You owe big time for this.”

“I’ll buy you dinner,” Steve promised.

“And it better be somewhere nice!” Eddie called back over his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve grumbled.

Within seconds Eddie came flouncing back. “Bad news, Stevie...”

“I didn’t get called back?” Steve asked.

Eddie cackled. “You got called back for Charles Thomson. You’re going up against Kyle Carver.”

“Fuck.”

“Language, Mr Harrington,” Mr Hall, one of the swim coaches murmured as he walked by.

“Sorry, coach,” Steve said automatically. He turned back to Eddie. “He’s going to get it, isn’t he?”

“Kyle?” Eddie asked. Steve nodded. “Probably. Though it would be a serious miscarriage of justice if he does.”

Steve grinned. “Good thing you’re a fan of those. Maybe you start a letter campaign against bias casting in school plays.”

Eddie looked around to make sure there weren’t any teachers. “Fuck off, Harrington.”

Steve kissed his nose and ran off giggling. “See you later, Munson.”

Eddie stood in the hall being jostled by other students as he thoughtfully rubbed his nose.

*

Steve watched Kyle audition from the audience and was so sure Kyle had it in the bag. Until he opened his mouth to sing and what came out of his mouth was horribly off key.

“Mr Carver, are you all right?” Miss Lucy asked.

Kyle nodded and tried again. This time it was better, but no where near it was when he auditioned the first time.

“I must be coming down with a cold,” Kyle excused.

Miss Lucy frowned. “Your turn, Mr Harrington.”

Steve took a deep breath and let it out slow, like Eddie had taught him. He stepped up to the stage and turned around.

“You know, sometimes I think the general is speaking to me,” Steve recited his lines, his voice breaking on the last word. And then he used the scene to launch into the singing part of his audition.

Miss Lucy was humming and nodding as Steve finished up the song.

“Thank you, Mr Harrington,” Miss Lucy said. “Results will be posted on the drama room door tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Miss Lucy,” Steve said.

As he passed Kyle the boy hissed, “Suck up.”

Steve just shrugged. “Or maybe it’s just polite to thank someone for their time.” 

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21

Tag list: @shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites @garden-of-gay @anaibis @thing-a-ling @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @artiststarme @sundead  @nelotegreitic @gregre369 @butterflysandpeppermint @thedragonsaunt @kodaik97 @messrs-weasley @scarletzgo @deadlydodos @renaissan-vvitch @evix-syne666 @emly03 @justforthedead89 @ashwinmeird @huniibee @phantypurple @stevesbipanic @shucks-yuckyuck @awkwardgravity1 @bookbinderbitch @reportinglivefromsoda @chasinggeese @be-the-spark-bitch @jinxjinn @kohlraedirectioner @cr0w-culture @xjessicafaithx @whimsicalwitchm @jaywhohasthegay @dangdirtydemons @lovelyscot  @howincrediblysapphicofyou @the-redthread

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #canon divergence #the boy with the bat #ladykailtiha writes

[the-ace-with-spades]

slow down (you're doing fine) sequel unrevised snippet because I'm procrastinating on finishing slow down itself and having Mav&Brad feels

.

The light from the living room turned on — he was covered by the terrace curtains enough that it was merely a warm shade coming from the cracked door. He heard bare footsteps, and a shadow flickering through the heavy fabric, until a familiar figure showed up.

Mav closed the terrace behind himself, plopping on the sandy wooden panels, until he was sitting down on Bradley’s left. He looked at his hands, at the phone, at Jake still left on read on the screen — Bradley switched it off and put it under his thigh.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked. He rubbed his eyes but didn’t look that sleepy either — just a bit tired, in that long-drawn, frustrated way when one wanted to rest but couldn’t no matter how hard they tried.

Bradley shrugged. He probably could sleep, he’d slept after he had done and said far worse things than today. He didn’t want to, it was almost like a punishment, staying awake until he fixed the problem. Until he stopped running away. He couldn't make himself fix anything, staying stagnant as the ball of anxiety and the dread about the inevitable grew.

“Still thinking about Hangman?”

He didn’t answer and maybe it was an answer in itself — Mav gave him an affectionate sigh. 

“You remember that time when my deployment ran longer last minute? When you were about twelve.”

He gave him a glance — it was an out-of-nowhere question. “Yeah I was so upset that Ice took me flying the day after you were supposed to get back. In the Tomcat.”

It hadn’t been long after Ice came back from Bosnia. Bradley had been missing Mav so badly that he would cry himself to sleep whenever Ice wasn’t looking careful enough — he was still a bit messed up after his mom’s death and scared that one day, Ice’d have to tell him Mav wasn’t coming back.

Mav was supposed to be gone twelve weeks but last minute, Ice told him it’d take some more time before Mav’d come back, and it ended up closer to four months rather than three. Bradley had yelled at Ice’s face, then cried in his arms for about an hour, until he fell asleep, begging him to get Mav back to them.

“It didn't run over,” Mav said after a moment. His breathing was loud and Bradley saw him shake his head in the corner of his eye. He turned to face him and Mav’s eyes were already waiting at him, full of regret and fear, his mouth just slightly quirked. “I didn't know what I was doing, Bradley. Both my best friends were gone, I was never supposed to be a dad and here you were, completely dependable on me having my shit together, and then we were doing so well with Ice, and it was just so much—”

He hadn’t known. In his eyes, they always seemed to have a grip on everything, always seemed to have the answers to all of Bradley’s problems. They were the heroes of Bradley’s life.

“I knew I was going to fuck it up somehow, you and him, and I thought, better sooner than later, right.”

It was familiar — waiting on the other shoe to drop, and when he had been waiting and waiting and nothing fell on his head, removing himself from the situation before he got hit. Better to disappoint from the start than wait infinitely until they find you out for who you really were. Can’t be hurt if you never let them hurt yourself. Can’t hurt them if you’re not long enough for that with them.

That was a lie, no matter how hard he’d pretend to believe it — there was always someone hurt.

“So I didn't tell Ice anything and stayed in Virginia instead of taking a layover flight to California with everyone. Gave Merlin a letter to hand Ice when he met him at the airport and realized I was nowhere in sight.”

Bradley had always thought he was a coward, not facing Jake, just leaving in his absence when things became complicated, when they became too tied to each other. Maybe it was a family thing.

“I can't do it, please don't wait for me. Take care of Bradley. That's all it said.”

Mav creased his eyebrows, shook his head, almost like he was doing it at his past self.

Bradley didn’t know what to say.

“Took me almost three weeks to get back in my right mind. I showed up at home at two in the morning absolutely ready to beg him to forgive me and instead he told me to stay quiet so I wouldn't wake you up and then said I'd be doing laundry and the dishes for a month if I didn't go straight to sleep. Slept with me in the same bed the first night back, even."

Mav bit down on his lip, huffed, just a tiny, humorless sound, and looked at his hands — he was twirling his wedding ring around on his finger.

“I don't know how I could even think that I could ever live without you in my life, those three weeks. Both of you.”

That was the difference between the two of them. They might have both been cowards, running away from something great, that could turn bad at any moment — Mav came back.

Mav came back and Ice was already waiting for him, expecting him back. He faced the consequences and fixed everything, faced the option that he could fuck it all up at any moment and accepted the risks to gamble for something better and sweeter.

Mav kept on trying. Bradley’d only kept on running away his whole life.

He had been running so long that it didn’t feel like he could stop. Like he deserved to stop.

"So I could tell you that you deserve him but I know it's really hard to believe it, sometimes, and no amount of saying it will change your mind," Mav continued. "But it’s not about deserving him. He chose you, Bradley. He chose you, who are you to decide he’s wrong?”

Bradley—blinked. It was impossible to hear, to understand — he’d always thought it more as if Jake was sentenced to loving him. People didn’t choose their sentences.

They did choose to commit the crimes.

“It’s hard to believe you deserve it, but he chose you and he’ll keep choosing you,” Mav said and the wobbly note of familiarity made him felt dangerously seen. “So until you can believe it, you try your best to be the man he deserves to have, until you’re ready to believe it. You come back, how many times it doesn’t take—"

He bit down on his tongue, taking in a big, unhelpful gulp of air. His eyes were watering and he couldn’t stop it, the wetness itching in his nose even as he squeezed his eyes shut — Mav bumped their shoulders just as he sniffled stiffly.

"I think we should have talked about it more, show you more that we struggled too. We always tried to keep you out of the loop if we thought we could make it without you being affected and I always thought that it was just something parents were supposed to do," he said. "Maybe if we didn’t then you wouldn't feel like this now."

Bradley could only shake his head rapidly, because that wouldn't be true. His parents did his best with him, he had been doomed to turn up a little fucked up the minute his dad died, at least, if not the day his mom herself got orphaned and met Mav in the foster system. Maybe their family was just meant to turn up all bent out of shape.

#i think this is from chap 6 of the sequel actually #it'll come i promise it'll just take like a year minimum #hangster #icemav #charlie writes #tgm #slow down tag #op

[roseblog-rog]

She Actually Built a Shrink Ray…

(contains g/t mouthplay, g/t fearplay, and dubcon)

My best friend—Jamie—told me a while ago that she was working on a big project. After some prying from my end, she revealed it was going to be some sort of laser that would…do something with, like, atoms? And it would decrease them…I think? Maybe? When she started using science talk I kinda zoned out.

But she eventually dumbed it down for me, saying it would make whatever object it hits far smaller, which actually kinda made sense.

“So, a shrink ray? Like Honey, I Shrunk the Kids?”

“Yeah, something like that…but what the fuck are you talking about? Shrinking kids n’ shit??”

“WHAT??? YOU DON’T KNOW THAT MOVIE???? IT’S A CLASSIC!”

“Nah you made that shit up.”

For someone so smart she’s a complete dumbass. Or maybe it’s just not a popular movie…

Anyways, it’s not that I doubted her ability, per se, but I was highly skeptical about whether that was even possible. I mean sure, the idea of shit from Honey, I Shrunk the Kids being real was very intriguing…but could she do it?

That question was finally answered today when she sent me a text saying ‘HAZELLLLL COME OVER NOWWWW ITS SUPER DUPER IMPORTANT 😱😱😱’, and I arrived to her house only to be dragged to her lab where I found…well…a big laser. It really did look like something out of a movie, appearing very similar to Wayne Szalinski’s own creation.

This is where I am now: staring at the large machine, shock and some slight skepticism evident. “Is–is this…?”

“You bet your ass it is! Here lemme show you.” She ran over to a box containing several big red building blocks, taking one out and putting it on a stool where the laser was aimed. She then moved over to some sort of control panel and fiddled with some switches until the tip of the laser was glowing yellow.

I watched in awe; her genuine scientific prowess never ceases to amaze me. Still, I couldn’t help but make a remark. “Y’know, I honestly expected the beam to be red. Maybe some blue glow mixed in.” I smirk.

She glared at me playfully. “Well sooorryyyy it’s not exactly like your stupid obscure movie.”

We laughed as she finished activating the machine. She beckoned me to her side and we both watched as an actual laser was fired onto the building block, making it glow in a similar shade to the beam itself. My mouth then hung open in complete awe as I watched the once large block slowly shrink until it was about as big as a fingernail. She then turned off the machine, and we both went to look at the results. Sure enough, the block was intact, and I picked it up between my fingers to get a closer look.

Well holy fucking shit. The block was exactly the same aside from the now smaller size, and I could see Jamie grinning out of the corner of my eye.

“This is…this is, well, revolutionary.” I couldn’t believe she built this thing, still caught up in the shock of it all.

“Oh but thats not all! Put the block back on the stool.” She instructed, rushing back to the control panel. I could tell she was just as excited about this as I was, if her happy little bounces and giggles were any indication.

I placed the block back and returned to my position beside her, noticing the tip of the laser was now glowing purple instead of yellow. The process then repeated, only this time I watched the block grow back to its original size. Incredible.

“I still can’t believe you actually managed to pull this off…”

“You saying you doubted me?” She gave me another lighthearted glare. “Aaaaanyways, you ready?”

Ah. Right. Because I love and trust Jamie more than anyone, also seeing her capabilities firsthand, I volunteered to help test her machines as a human subject. Is there an ethical issue with this arrangement? Maybe, but it’s cool.

However…

While nothing bad has ever happened to me as a result of previous tests, Jamie has a tendency to…mess with me during the process. She knows her machines more than I do, therefore knowing exactly how to fuck with me. Like the time she built some sort of emotional amplifier, activating it whenever I laughed until I was quite literally pissing myself and breathless on the ground laughing. Or the time she built that stupid artificial spider drone—Jeffrey, the fucker—and kept making it crawl into my peripherals to scare the shit out of me.

I love her to death but she can be a real pain in the ass during tests, using my misery to fully test the capabilities of her machines. The sadist.

This time though…this time was different. I would be completely at her mercy, too tiny to do anything but accept whatever she does. It was…thrilling, honestly. Will it be scary? Probably. Will I get annoyed? Maybe.

But she wouldn’t hurt me.

“Yeah yeah okay whatever, let’s get this over with.” I sat down at the stool, and Jamie gave me a knowing smirk. I watched the laser—which was now pointed at me—start to glow yellow again, but despite the nerves I could never miss a joke opportunity.

“I am not missing the mall today.” I huffed and rolled my eyes, truly embodying my inner Amy. Jamie just stared at me with the most deadpan stare I’ve ever seen.

“I am so glad I finished building this so I don’t have to deal with your bullshit about this movie you’re so obsessed with.”

“Oh cmonnnnn. Youuuu loveeee meeeeee~” I taunted in my singsong voice. But at that moment she smiled and the machine was activated.

The feeling of the beam hitting me is…hard to describe. The best word I can think of is tingly. An almost soft and fuzzy sensation filled my body as I watched the world around me get bigger and bigger. It was one thing to see an object shrink, but a whole different experience to actually see the world grow while you get smaller. Tables grew taller, tools became gigantic, things that were once so close by slowly felt miles away. Even the stool I was sitting on transformed into more of an open landscape in my eyes.

After some time the world stopped warping around me, and I stood up to take in my surroundings. I was so familiar with Jamie’s lab, and yet it seemed like a completely new room from this perspective. I could notice cracks and rough edges around me with more clarity, notice particles of dust flying through beams of light. I glanced down from the stool and it felt like I was on top of a whole fucking mountain. This was absolutely insane, like h—

“Holy shit!” Jamie’s voice boomed through my ears, and I had to raise my hands to cover them from the vibrations that practically shook my whole body. My ears started ringing. A shadow now loomed over me, and looking up I could see Jamie towering above. From the look on her face, though barely legible due to the distance, she seemed to notice my more sensitive hearing.

“Oops, sorry Hazey.” Her voice fell to a calmer speaking tone, which no longer rattled my eardrums as I slowly lowered my hands. “I can’t believe that actually worked!”

I laugh, smirking. “Oh look who’s doubting herself now.”

She pauses for a moment, then speaks again. “I can barely hear you.” She chuckles. “That’s new.”

“Hey!” I pout, also noticing she’s cupped her hands. She lowers them down to the stool, and it looks like an offer to climb in. I accept, stepping onto her palm and balancing myself.

“Just don’t lift me up too—“ I feel her hands rocket up towards her face, and I fall over from the sheer force of it. Dark spots quickly faded in and out of my vision “…quickly.”

She chuckles softly. “Sorry about all this, you’d think I’d have thought about how to properly treat you with how much preparation I did.” I stood back up and met her eyes. They were huge, and I could really take in the rich shades of brown within her irises. “But speaking of you,” she left me standing on one hand while she moved the other to ruffle my hair with her pointer finger, “you are so fucking cute! You’re like a little speck on my hand!!”

I blush furiously, not used to being the short one. “Hey! I’m not that small!” Being in her hand I could see I was about the size of half her finger.

“Awwww poor wittwle thing~” She continued to coo and rub the top of my head. I hate the fact that it actually felt really good. Is this how she was gonna mess with me this time? Taunting me for being short?

“Stoppppp!” I whined through giggles, starting to melt at the contact but being unable to actually do anything about it. I already know my face is completely red. She knows me too fucking well.

Her finger starts to softly shove me around a bit, rubbing ever so often. I get a bit dizzy from the overwhelming tenderness of it all.

“Hehe! You’re such a fun little toy!”

That comment makes my mind and heart stutter, and I really start to take in just how powerless I am in this situation. I begin feeling a bit of wetness in my panties, but try to keep those thoughts at bay. As far as I know, Jamie isn’t interested in sex or anything of the sort. Besides, we’re friends. I’ll just enjoy the soft shoves and rubs and coos, that’s more than enough.

But then I notice that blush has crept onto her face as well, and she slowly smirks as her finger stops playing with me. She gently pinches the back of my shirt, lifting me up, and now I’m really helpless. I instinctively and slowly start to flail around to free myself from her grip, but to no avail.

I’m in front of her mouth now, and her lips are slightly parted. I can feel how heavy she’s breathing, warm air pushing out and brushing against my skin. Her breath smells nice, it’s honestly kind of soothing.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this. Sorry in advance.” With that being my only warning, she fully opens her mouth and sticks her tongue out. She’s salivating a lot, and the realization of what she’s doing dawns on me.

“Wait! Wait wait wait wait!” She drops me onto her tongue as I beg and squirm, but no matter how much I try to crawl off of her tongue I cannot get any sort of grip. I keep slipping and falling helplessly as her tongue snakes back into her mouth with me on it.

“No no no no no please! Jamie!” But it’s too late. I’m fully inside her mouth at this point, her tongue now flipping me over to hold me down against the bottom of her mouth. I try to push myself out, but she’s too strong. I feel tears start enter my eyes.

“I don’t mean to scare you. I swear I’m not like…eating you or something. I just…” She trails off, and her mouth fully closes.

I honestly never realized just how dark the mouth is when closed, because it’s open whenever I look into mine. But now I get the real experience. It’s dark. Very dark. The air around me is also very thick and humid, the warmth of her tongue and copious amounts of saliva contributing heavily. It also smells completely like Jamie’s breath in here—I mean, obviously—but overwhelmingly so. I can hear her breathe through her throat from my position under her tongue.

Her throat. Right.

Well, she said she wasn’t gonna eat me…but what the fuck is happening then? Is this just another scare prank? Is she secretly a cannibal and just lied to make me struggle less? I’m at a complete loss.

I feel her moving around now, hear her searching through drawers for something. The vibrations of her footsteps ripple through the mouth, bouncing me between her wet tongue and the floor. As scary as this is, the warmth is comfortable, and the moisture surrounding me is actually pretty arousing.

Fuck, I’m trapped in my now-giant friend’s mouth and all I can do is be a whore. Typical, honestly.

I try to move again but I’m still being held down, and suddenly I hear Jamie stop searching. A breath of relief moves up through her throat and out her lips, giving me a brief glimpse of light before it is snuffed out once again.

I’m not even scared anymore, honestly. I’m just bored. This sucks actually. If you’re gonna scare me like this at least up the stakes.

I feel her move around some more until she sits down on what is either a couch or her bed. Regardless, I felt the bounce.

“Jamieeeeee!” I try to yell out to her, hoping she hears me from in here. “What the fuck is going on?!” I need answers and if nothing else I can try to get them.

“Just—! Please let me have this.” I’ve never heard her like this before, voice so shaky and desperate. I feel some fear creep back in, but this time it’s for her rather than me. “I need you, Hazel.” I’m still confused until I hear the familiar buzz of a vibrator.

Oh.

Oh shit.

She…this…huh????? I can barely process what this actually means before I hear moans reverberating up from her throat, the pool of saliva around me starting to grow. I can feel her body start to shake with arousal, also starting to notice her tongue snaking back.

I’m able to stand up now, but it takes extra effort with how soaked I am in saliva. It’s heavy and slick, almost keeping me down. I can feel my clothes completely stuck to my body, making it very obvious that I’m hard. My heart rate and breathing are also picking up, both from shock and the resurgence of my arousal from before getting put in here.

Then her tongue leaps at me before I can react, pushing me against her gums repeatedly as I squirm to break free. It’s bigger than my entire body, each lick completely drenching me in more gooey spit. As much as I should be disgusted, this sensation is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. It’s so warm and wet and comfortable, sending tingles of pleasure from my crotch throughout my entire body. Her moans pick up with each lick as well, and I truly start to realize just what she meant when saying ‘I need you.’

Her tongue quickly gets more frantic and suggestive, lapping my entire lower body from my feet up to my crotch, and I already feel incredibly sensitive and brainless as the motions continue. I can’t help but join Jamie in moaning. Instinct overtaking me, I remove my clothes as best I can while being bombarded with wet sensations. I manage to get my shirt and bra off first, and Jamie quickly notices what I’m doing as she focuses her tongue movements towards my now exposed upper body instead. This makes her moan even louder, if that’s even possible at this point.

My pants come next, and this takes some effort given how wet and sticky they are, combined with the fact that I’m still being licked mercilessly against a giant row of teeth. When the pants are lowered enough to reveal my panties, Jamie moves her tongue back down to my crotch. With one less cloth barrier, the overwhelming sensations are too much to handle, and I orgasm. I can feel my panties grow even wetter despite how soaked they already are. Jamie stops for a moment, taking in the taste of my leakage as it drips down my thighs and into the pool of saliva below me. Her tongue feeling me up as I continue to leak honestly feels so pathetic, and I can’t help but whimper.

Once Jamie finally realizes just what she’s tasting, she goes feral. Her tongue picks me up and shoves me over to her molars, placing me down carefully only to bite specifically at my pants and panties to rip them off. I’m finally completely naked. I’m then forcefully sent sliding towards her lips, pushed through so that my upper body dangles out of her mouth while my legs stay inside. She has her lips pressed tightly against my crotch, and she begins sucking on me while simultaneously licking relentlessly at my taint. It’s too much, sliding back and forth on her lips like this, grinding against such intense moisture, feeling that giant tongue absolutely lick me clean. I can’t think straight.

My vision is blurry in the light after having been in darkness for so long, but I can see Jamie vibing her clit. She’s shaky and wet, her frantic breaths pushing against my body as I rest my upper half against her lower lip.

I already feel close to a second orgasm, but then Jamie’s vibrator turns off. Her mouth opens wide, tongue licking her lips while I’m dragged along against her skin underneath. I’m then plucked up by my legs, dangling in front of her face. I am completely drenched, drop after drop of saliva falling down and hitting her body. We’re both breathing heavy, faces red. She looks at me, and from my upside down view I can see her smile before I’m sent down between her thighs.

Warm. That’s the first word that comes to mind. I’m shoved against her clit, and I immediately start humping. We’re both completely soaked so the grinding is smooth. Jamie’s moans from high above me reverberate through my ears, and I can feel her get wetter by the second. Her grip doesn’t let up, and she actually starts to rub me against her forcefully. She doesn’t need her vibrator now, she can just use me. I cum again, becoming even more slicked up as I’m slid up and down across her crotch. I can’t tell whether I’m more covered in her saliva or my cum anymore, I’m too brainless and soaked to process. She is in complete control of me; I’ve become nothing but her glorified sex toy.

She starts tensing, squeezing her thighs together tightly, and she quickly shoves me inside her hole. It’s a similar environment to the mouth but far more constrictive. Oppressive. Her walls push against me as I squirm and stimulate her, barely being able to breathe from her scent and moisture completely overpowering me.

Finally, she cums, and I hold my breath as I am once again completely drenched in her. I manage to get pushed out right in between her thighs, stuck pressed there until she unclenches. It’s all so much, so many new and euphoric sensations. I’m breathing heavier than I’ve ever breathed before, feeling like I might pass out at any moment. Yet I cannot stop myself from huffing her scent like my life depends on it, cannot slow my racing heart after everything that just happened to me.

When she unclenches, I do not go sliding down her thigh. Rather, I remain stuck there, practically webbed by the saliva and cum I’ve quickly become accustomed to being drenched in. Strings of fluid connect me to her other leg. I want more. I can get an explanation later, I just need to be back in her mouth again. Back inside her. I already feel myself start to dry up and I whine, trying to squirm out of the adhesive I’m trapped in.

I hear a breathless chuckle from above as I am carefully ripped from my prison, once again left dangling in front of Jamie’s face.

“Wow, so d-desperate for more? I g-g-guess I was right. You are a fun little toy.” She stutters and takes deep breaths as she speaks, likely just as brainless from pleasure as I am.

“P-please put me back in your mouth. I need—I need to feel your tongue again.” I blush furiously at the plea, already feeling myself ready to cum again. This is so fucked.

“Of course, Hazey. Anything for you.” And with that, Jamie opens her mouth and drops me inside once again.

Feeling the warmth of her breath and saliva is a comfort I could never take for granted. Her tongue is gentler this time, hums of approval ringing from her throat as she savors every taste of me. I let myself relax for a bit as she feels me up, catching my breath while still feeling highly aroused from the licking. Once my heart rate is under control, I slowly stand and wrap my body around her tongue as best I can. I then begin to thrust myself into it over and over again, my cock sliding against the impossibly warm and slick surface. It feels amazing.

A chuckle sounds from Jamie’s throat as I hump, and I feel her body rise as she begins to—presumably—clean up. I’ve gone from a sex toy to a simple form of stimulation for her mouth. A thing to mindlessly flick around and play with while she goes around and focuses on other tasks. The thought makes me blush ever so slightly more.

I feel myself get close to a third orgasm, but her tongue quickly goes back to overpowering me, pushing me towards her molars once again. This time, however, she bites down on me. Not enough to injure or kill me, but enough to keep me trapped with just enough pain that I still feel good. My lower body is facing her tongue, but I cannot see what it’s actually doing. From the feel of it, it doesn’t seem like she’s doing anything to me anymore. Is she just going to leave me here? Prevent me from reaching the orgasm I was so close to? My train of thought is interrupted, however, when her tongue suddenly goes to fondle my crotch and taint. The surprise of receiving such overwhelming sensations out of nowhere makes me moan loudly, feeling myself just on the edge of cumming.

But. Then she stops again. Oh you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

She repeats this process multiple times: fondling me by surprise only to stop just before I orgasm. No matter how much I try to squirm out of her teeth, how much I try to maneuver my arms to touch myself, it’s no use. I quickly become brainless and whiny, eventually deciding to cry out pleas for her to let me cum.

After enough begging, she finally relents, licking me once again but this time without stopping. I’m still trapped under her molars, but I thrash around wildly as I’m finally able to let myself go all over her tongue. I all but scream as the feeling fills my body. I don’t care how embarrassing it may sound, all I can focus on is releasing my pent up pleasure all over her. I feel each burst of cum exit me, all of which bringing more and more pangs of overwhelming euphoria. More and more pathetic sounds. I feel elated. Wet, shaky, dizzy, and elated.

As I come down from the climax, her teeth let me go. I look at my body to see massive red teeth marks across my chest. Woah. I try to stand up, but I’m so shaky and filled with pleasure that I immediately fall over. Her tongue takes that as an opportunity to pick me up and bring me towards her lips. Her mouth opens and I am released once again, only this time her tongue slowly angles down so that I slide off into her cupped hands below.

She holds my small and soaked body tenderly as I regain my senses, raising her hands so I’m at eye level. I look at her face and am shocked to see tears falling down rapidly.

“I’m sorry Hazel! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m s—“

“Hey hey hey! I’m okay! I don’t know what that was, but I feel fine. Good, even!” I try to comfort her, sitting up and gently rubbing her palm with my hand. “Although, I would like to ask…why? Why did you do all this?” Sue me, I wanna know.

Jamie sniffs, the tears not slowing down. “I—I—I’m in love with you, Hazel.”

I freeze, and for a moment my heart stops. I say nothing, and she continues.

“And—and I was too afraid to ask you out or admit my feelings because you’re so…” She looks closely at me now, eyes filled with stars at the sight of me. ME?? “…you. I’ve loved you for a while now; your smile, your voice, your authenticity, your laugh, your jokes, your absolute beauty, even your stupid fucking movie obsession.” I wet chuckle at that, feeling tears falling down my eyes as well. “You are the only person I ever want to love, Hazel…and I ruined it. I got too desperate. I used you. I’m so fucking sorry.”

I stand up now, and gesture for her to move me closer to her face. She complies, and once I’m close enough I rush to hug her cheek. I really start bawling now, so overwhelmed from the affection.

“I—I’ve loved every moment spent with you, Jamie! You’re so fucking smart and funny and sweet and an absolute dumbass. There isn’t a part of you I don’t want to cherish. I…I love you too.” I manage to get out through sobs, feelings I had no idea were there finally coming up to the surface. “To be honest…I didn’t think you’d ever want to be with, well, someone like me.” I step back from her cheek now, wrapping my arms around myself in a pitiful hug.

Jamie bends her head forward, pressing a giant but soft kiss onto my head as I cry. “Oh, Hazel…you know that doesn’t bother me. I mean shit, I watched by your side as you slowly become the person you’ve always wanted to be. It’s admirable! You’ve become so much happier and genuine with yourself. So much prettier. How could I not love you?”

I full on wail at that, and she presses me close to her chest as I sob. The rhythmic beats of her heart slowly calm me down, and my breathing eventually begins to level.

“Do—do you mean that, Jamie?” I clutch her shirt as I brace for the inevitable ‘Just kidding! You’re gross!’

But it never comes.

“Every word, Hazel. I want to love you for the rest of our lives.” She gently takes one of her hands to rub the back of my head as I quietly cry into her shirt.

“So do I.” I manage to get out, and I feel her heart stutter ever so slightly.

“You mean that? Even after…what I did?” Jamie sounds nervous, just as afraid of rejection as I was. But she never has to worry about that. Not with me.

“I do. I really mean it. I could never hate you or leave you. I never want to spend a moment without you in my life.” I press a kiss onto her chest. “Besides, I was into it.” I full on laugh and Jamie can’t help but laugh too.

“Oh and I’m the dumbass?” She holds me even closer to her body, seemingly never letting go any time soon. Good.

When we both stop crying after a while, Jamie is the first to speak again. “So…do you want me to grow you back to normal size?” From a nearby window, I can see it’s dark out now. I am exhausted.

“Can…can I stay like this for the night? Sleep on your chest?” It was an embarrassing request, but I knew she wouldn’t care. She would probably tease me a bit though.

“Awww! You are adorable!” Speak of the devil. “Of course you can stay small tonight…though I think I accidentally swallowed your clothes.” I chuckle at her guilty expression, and resolve to just stay naked to sleep…as long as I can dry off first.

After we both get ready, Jamie lays down in her bed, and I rest in my position next to her heart, her hand serving as a blanket for me. This was an absolutely confusing and…surprising start to our relationship, and I had no idea what the days ahead would bring, but I knew we would figure it out.

I smile as the warmth of her body and pulses of her heart lull me to sleep.

~

Shoutout to my wife @flowers-but-gay for being my smart dumbass and describing how a shrink ray would potentially work only for me to dumb it down 😭

Also shoutout to Eve @specksizedgoddess for brushing the dust off my g/t kink and getting me back into writing

#(ro)s(e)mut #hazel & jamie #i am actually the most normal ever #g/t #g/t mouthplay #g/t fearplay #giant/tiny #nsft #g/t nsft #dubcon

[medusas-musings]

Coffee's for (Elevator) Closers

(A/N) First fanfic on Tumblr! If you have any requests for one shots, feel free to message me, I'll come out with a list of what I write for soon! Also Gif not mine 🖤

As I walk down the crowded and unforgiving streets of New York, I curse myself for not leaving 5 minutes earlier to get this coffee run in time for the shoot today. My shoes barely graze the street as I do my best to push through the crowd and reach the building we’re supposed to film in today. I stop in front of the skyscraper, and I double check the address before turning around to use my back to push through the doors and feel the weather change from the cold streets of Staten to the warmth of a heater. My lungs take a breather as I stop in front of the double elevators with a socially acceptable distance from the only other person also waiting for a lift. I find less anxiety clouding my mind now that there’s someone else most likely getting to set as late as I am. I take a glance to my side to notice that it’s one of the guys starring in today’s shoot. My knowledge on the show and who they were was very limited; If I never got a job as an assistant, I would’ve never even heard his name, nevermind seeing him in person. The doors shift to open and I see him look up from his phone, and gesture it forward in a motion applying the gentleman’s value of “ladies first”. I give a nod and a small smile in return and I assume that’ll be the most of our conversation as I enter the elevator and put my back as firmly as I can to the rail. Normally, I would be gripping both hands onto whatever I can stabilize myself in whatever way possible, trying to stifle the irrational fear in my head. The least I can say is that moving to a big city can certainly become exposure therapy for a fear of heights and elevators.

However, it turns out my worst fears would only become realized as I suddenly jolted forward, doing my best to recover my balance and spill the least amount of coffee possible. My pulse quickens as I can’t feel the inertia of moving up or down gives me, which only strengthens my fear worse. A curse escapes my lips, as I put the trays of drinks into a corner and go over to the panel, pressing any button I can. While I want to believe one of these will be the magic answer to getting out of this hellbox, but I was then gently set me aside to accept the fact we were stuck by the man I shared the space with. “Here, hon, I got this.” He murmured, then hit a button with a phone icon above it, one I thought I’d never have a use for it. Even in the state I was in, I didn’t let how attractive the simple gesture was. In a moment, another voice came through the speaker, and the shaggy-haired man explained the situation to them; it’s as if he wasn’t freaked out but I couldn’t help but feel my hands shake and my breathing quicken.

“You alright, sweetheart?” He said, making sure his tone was tender. I looked up, remembering his name–Well, nickname–Q. Seeing him on set, he seemed so much more intimidating to talk to, so unapproachable. Right now though, I could tell he was doing everything he could to keep the young woman in front of him from having a breakdown. “Don’t worry, I used to be a firefighter, you’re in good hands. Just breathe” His deep brown eyes pierced into mine, making me have to keep my gaze to my shoes half the time he was calming me down. I caught a glimpse of his chest raising and did my best to mimic the rhythm, my lungs filling with stale elevator air.

My heart can’t stop beating regardless of how much calmer I felt in the predicament we were in. What set in for me was the fact that this was the man I not only worked under, but I would catch glances at while I ran around him, like a small treat to my workday. I couldn’t deny that this was a guy I had a bit of a “workplace crush” on, but I didn’t think I would ever be so close to him, let alone being alone together. My brain finally registers a comprehensive thought in my daze of anxiety, and I turn around and kneel in front of the coffees, scanning the orders until I pull out a plain black I hand over to Q. “Here,” I say. “At least someone should be able to get their drink on time.” I continue, hoping to bring a little less tension to…well, everything.

He gives me a chuckle as he takes the cup from me, our hands grazing just barely. Even in that small moment, I could feel how small my hand felt next to his. “I appreciate the speedy delivery, Miss…”

I tell him my name, filling in the gap of his sentence. “I’m one of y’all’s assistants today. Shit, I’m gonna get chewed out for getting there so late.”

“You’ll be alright, Sweetheart, I won’t let ya get in any trouble.” Q reassures me. The comfort he’s supplying me as well as the slight display of power both send a shiver down my spine. “All I want you to worry about is keeping calm, alright?” His eyes keep mine in such a gentle glance. I can’t help myself when I feel the heat in my cheeks rise.

“Thanks.” There’s a pause in the air as I let out a small chuckle. “I really didn’t expect to talk to you more than just getting your lunch order later.” I grasp at anything I can grasp for a conversation. Hell, if I’m gonna be stuck in a closed place with my attractive boss, I’m gonna make the most of the opportunity.

Q took a swig of his coffee before a slight smirk crept onto his face. “Well, I guess it’s one way to meet the cute coworker.”

My brows furrowed and my mouth became agape, as if I was going to say something but nothing came out. After my brain finishes rebooting from the shock. “Is this a way to get my mind off being stuck in an elevator?” I ask, a slight smile occurring on my face. It doesn’t feel like a real thing that happened, as if this was some nightmare turned lucid dream.

“A little.” he shrugs, taking another drink of his coffee. “But it’s not a lie. I’ve seen you around, I’ve been meaning to find a way to introduce myself. But when I finally get a break, you’re usually busy so…” Q trails off as he keeps his eye contact. It was astonishing how honest he could be with me without a hint of fear. You couldn’t pry information like that out of me if you tried. “Well, guess the universe helped you out.” I brush my hair out of my face, trying to mimic his levels of confidence. “So tell me, if you ever did have a chance to talk to me, what was the game plan?” Q lets out a hearty chuckle. “You realize 90% of the show is excuses to talk to strangers? The actual excuse to approach you would be easy. Like the coffee.” Q pointed to the tray. “I could make up some bullshit about saying my coffee tasted wrong then go with you to replace it. Probably buy you something too as a thank you.” My eyebrows raise, an amused smile spreading on my face.

“Impressive, I can tell you're a professional.” I say. “If we’re being honest here, I also thought you’re kinda cute too. I just figured it wouldn’t be anything…” I trail off, searching for the right words. “… realistic?”

“If I’m being honest, I have caught you staring once or twice. It’s the only reason I would lay it on so heavy.” I looked down with a smile on my face, slightly embarrassed, but enjoying the teasing words.

Before I could reply, we could hear a commotion on the other side of the door; the technician was here to help, prying the doors open with a crowbar. As we get out, I take my coffee trays from the elevator. “Hey.” I turn around to see Q standing over me. “Let me help you with that.” He takes the second tray from my hands, allowing me to feel so much more stable. I thank him and we go up a flight of stairs together, making small talk as he holds each door open for me. We get to set, and we place the coffees onto the table. No one bothers to fuss about coffee being late since Q walked in with me, a shield for any higher ups to take their drink instead of nagging me.

Before I could walk away to check what else I have to do, Q gently grabs my shoulder to get my attention. He has his phone in his hand, pointed towards me on a ‘new contact’ page. “Hey, I’d love to get your number, maybe plan something that isn’t in a 5 by 5 square foot box.” Q’s eyes look nervous while his smirk tries to give off the impression he’s as cool as a cucumber. Biting my bottom lip to keep myself from smiling like an idiot, I take the phone from his hands. I put my number and name into his phone, but I can’t resist putting a green heart and an elevator emoji next to my name as a little inside joke. I give the phone back to him and he smiles at the name I used. “Thanks, I’ll see you around” Q concludes, waving to me with his phone in his hands before joining his co-stars.

I smile as I walk away, and I feel my phone buzz with a notification.

(New Number): Nice to meet you! And be your hero from that elevator encounter ;)

I quickly add the new number to my phone, knowing this isn’t a number I want to lose anytime soon. I may have to take the stairs for the rest of my life now, but at least I got to score a date with my hot boss.

#impractical jokers #brian quinn #brian quinn x reader #Brian Quinn x reader one shot #fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #Impractical Jokers fanfiction #Reader insert #Brian Quinn x you #Brian Quinn/you

[sev-on-kamino]

Fly The Night

Pairing: OC Blizzard x fem!Reader (mechanic, no y/n, no physical descriptions, nicknamed Sparks)

Summary: You always fix their starfighters, so Blizzard wants to show you your handiwork up close and personal.

Warnings: none, just flirty flight fun, and a sweet kiss or two, SFW

Word count: 1171

Written to “Dance The Night” by Dua Lipa

The hangar of the Negotiator was practically your own personal quarters. You rarely left, except to eat and hit the sonic. The rhythmic sound of tools in motion, the whoosh and hum of the engines as fighters departed and arrived were the best lullaby you could ask for.

You wanted to fly though. You could never compete with any of the troopers, and you knew that, but even just running the test flights yourself would be a dream come true.

You were daydreaming in the cockpit of the Avalanche, when her pilot popped up next to you.

“I’m honored Sparks, you hadn’t christened the Avalanche yet, and I was starting to think you didn’t like me,” Blizzard said with a grin, as he rested his arms at the edge of the cockpit.

“Christened?” You asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

“The boys and I noticed you sit in the cockpit for a little while after you complete repairs or upgrades,” he explained. “You hadn’t enjoyed the comforts of the Avalanche yet, so the boys were teasing me.”

“You don’t stress your bird like they do. You need the least attention,” you replied with a grin.

“Ah, mesh’la, I actually need the most attention, but that’s a conversation for another day,” He said with an easy laugh. “So what made me so lucky today?”

“She’ll need a test flight to make sure everything’s right and tight,” you hesitated a moment before deciding Blizzard was too sweet to tease you for your honesty. “And I like to pretend I’ll get to do it myself one of these days.”

“If you’re fantasizing about flying, this is the fighter for you,” he said excitedly. “I mean you maintain her, so I’m sure you know that she’s the best in the fleet. Smooth, responsive, fast, and beautiful.”

“Are we still talking about Avalanche?” You asked, feeling your face heat up as his warm, deep voice extolled the virtues of his fighter.

“If I should be talking about something else, Sparks, say the word.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said softly, running gentle fingers over the instruments. “Let me get out of your way and get back to work.”

“Not so fast,” Blizzard said, blocking your exit. “You wanted to do a test flight, and my baby needs one.”

“I’m not allowed; you know that.” Your brow furrowed, and you bit your lip sadly.

“You’re not allowed alone. You won’t be alone though.”

“Blizz,” you said with a warning tone. If he was playing with you, you’d blast him out of an airlock.

“I mean it, Sparks,” he insisted. “Give me a second to get clearance, and we’ll be on our way.”

He disappeared from view for a moment, and you looked down at the panel. You knew what each switch, button, and dial was for. You wrapped your hands around the yoke, feeling the worn, yet soft, material.

“We’re clear!” He cheered, popping your daydream bubble, as he appeared over the edge of the cockpit once more.

“Really?” You asked much louder than intended. You clapped a hand over your mouth, as a few heads turned your way. “Sorry, really?”

“I wouldn’t tease you like that. Now hop up, so I can join you,” the pilot said, maneuvering into the cockpit behind you.

Once he was settled, he took hold of your hips, and pulled you down into his lap. You could feel the warmth from your face spreading across your entire body, as your body pressed into Blizzard’s. You could feel the heat of him through your flight suit, along with every bit of his muscular form where it met your body.

“This is your flight, mesh’la. Take us to the runway,” he said gently, taking hold of your hands and placing them on the yoke.

You released a shuddering breath before you ran the pre-flight checks.

“Tower, Avalanche ready at runway 5,” Blizzard said, the rumble of his voice rolling through your back where it was pressed to his chest. “Requesting clearance for departure.”

“Avalanche, you’re clear to taxi,” came the response, and you could feel the excitement humming in your chest like the moment before you kiss someone you’ve liked for a long time. As you picked up speed down the runway, your heart began to thrum wildly in your chest.

“V1,” Blizzard called, and you nearly squealed. Just ahead you could see the faint blue shimmer of the final barrier between you and the stars.

“Avalanche, you’re clear for takeoff.”

Blizzard gave you a nudge.

“Rotate,” you said, your voice coming out far more confidently than you’d expected. “Positive rate, gear up,”

The pair of you shot out of the hangar, and into the void. You couldn’t believe it, you were flying. You knew you must have looked like a kid in a candy store, as you carefully maneuvered through the emptiness.

“This is a test flight, Sparks. Put her through her paces,” Blizzard said, reclining, and resting his hands on your thighs.

The Avalanche lived up to Blizzard’s praise, as you increased the speed and performed every trick you’d ever dreamed of. Loops, sharp turns, rolls, everything your heart had desired for so long.

“This is amazing, Blizz!”

“Told you she was the best. Don’t ever tell him I said this, but Skywalker’s toy has got nothing on my baby,” Blizzard replied in a conspiratorial whisper.

Your laughter rang out, as you calculated the jump to hyperspace. You didn’t need to go far, but you did need to check the hyperdrive’s functionality.

“Ready?” You asked.

“Punch it.”

You reclined against Blizzard’s broad chest, as the soft blue hues of hyperspace washed over the pair of you.

“I don’t know how I can ever repay you for this,” you said softly, turning your head to nuzzle against his jaw.

“You don’t owe me anything, cyar’ika,” he replied, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. “You‘ve kept my baby running smoothly, and kept my vode safe. I’m the one who owes you.”

“Well, I don’t know how you’re going to top this for our next date,” you said hesitantly.

He shifted so he could get a proper look at you. “Sparks. Don’t tease me, please.” His voice sounded so soft, so fragile. Despite the dangers he faced all of the time, this was the first time you’d ever heard fear in his voice.

“I wouldn’t tease you about this, Blizz.”

He cupped your face, and brought his lips to yours in a feather light kiss. His thumb brushed over your cheek, as he leaned closer to take your lips again.

There was a beep from the console to alert your upcoming drop out of hyperspace, and the two of you were brought back to the cockpit.

“Kriff, I was supposed to be taking notes and measurements,” you groaned.

“Oh no, looks like we’ll have to take her around again,” Blizzard said, pressing a kiss to the side of your face, as he settled back once more, and let you soar through the stars.

taglist: @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @iamburdened @sunshinesdaydream @dukeoftheblackstar @rexxdjarin @wolffegirlsunite @808tsuika @sleepingsun501 @starrylothcat @ladyzirkonia @wings-and-beskar @pb-jellybeans @clio3kantarella @staycalmandhugaclone @stardusthuntress @idontgetanysleep @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @anxiouspineapple99 @littlemissmanga @mandos-mind-trick @amorfista @kimiheartblade @freesia-writes @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @clonemedickix @moonlightwarriorqueen

#clone trooper oc #oc: blizzard #oc x reader #clone trooper oc x reader #x reader #reader insert #seven writes

[seraphimcollections]

| AND YOU WEREN'T THERE |

| Alejandro x Reader | Ch.1 |

(photo is AI generated and edited by me!)

warnings: heavyyy angst, +18, MDNI, body mutilation, torture, mention of blood and injury, near death, bloodlust, mention of guns, violence

summary: he betrayed you. He left you to shrivel and die. But you didn't, and now he will live to regret it. Yes, you died but you were reborn. Reborn as La Arana, The Spider.

word count: 2k

a/n: the beginning of a new series! This one has been on my mind for a while and I'm so happy to finally work on it. I'm really looking to writing more for this series. Let me know what you think!

The rain pelted against the top of the jeep as it sped through the winding roads. Rudy’s eyes squinted, trying his best to stay within the lane as the chaos unfolded in the back seat. Every few seconds, Rudy's eyes would flicker to the rear view mirror to Alejandro looming over your unconscious body laid out on the seat. Alejandro’s folded one underneath the other, pushing down hard against your chest in rhythm. But each compression, more blood spurted from your mangled lips. For a moment Alejandro believed you were remaining conscious behind your half-lidded eyes, but looking closer he could see them glazing over, exhaustion and blood loss taking you by the second. He couldn’t even give breaths because your face was completely covered in blood, staining your clothes and the seat. Alejandro was in full blown panic. 

“Puta madre! Fuck, come on, stay with me,” Alejandro pleaded, desperately trying to find the source of the bleeding. “How much longer, Rudy?!” 

“Half a klick, colonel,” Rudy said, trying to keep the tremble from his voice. 

“Faster, she’s not responding,” Alejandro grabbed the sides of your head, shaking you. 

“Cariño, stay awake, come on, stay awake,” Alejandro pleaded again. 

Alejandro’s eyes widened in shock at the sound of a small gurgled sound emitting from your throat. You were trying to speak. You were still hanging on. The weak sound was enough to make his eyes water but he forced them away when he felt you let out a wheeze, the last of the air releasing from your lungs. Your eyelids felt so heavy, finally letting them fall. 

“Cariño, baby wake up,” Alejandro said, his voice raw, “Mi vida, wake up, wake up!” 

You were so tired. Your body weighed heavier than lead, as if being swallowed by the earth. You couldn’t hear the humming of the jeep, the squelching from the ragged cavity in your abdomen. Your face didn’t burn anymore. You felt like you were floating among the waves, looking up at the twilight sky as the tides began to slowly pull you down. It was so calm, so peaceful. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad way to go. Alejandro’s shouts began to slowly fade away into the darkness. Finally, sleep. 

✂

Your eyes snapped open, immediately seeing the ceiling of the old barn. They didn’t stay there long, flickering over to the barn door, seeing it cracked open, letting the morning sun in with only the small figure of Valeria blocking it. She smirked up to you in your bird’s nest, immediately finding you laying in your hammock. 

“Despierta dormilon!” She shouted up to you.

You quirked a brow, swinging your legs over to land on the creaky panels. You walked to the edge of the nest, leaning on your elbows over the bannister, looking down at her. The shadows casted over your frame, hiding your frame. Hiding your mutilated face. 

“Mañana, hermanita,” Valeria said with a smile. 

You grunted, unamused. 

“You never were much of an early bird, were you,” said Valeria. 

“What do you want?” You said, your tone cold. 

Valeria’s expression became serious, dropping the playful demeanor. 

“Our friend from the East has come to town, we need to make sure we keep him off the radar,” Valeria said. 

You ran a hand through your long inky locks, “and what do you need from me, El Sin Nombre?” 

Valeria smirked, hand on her hip, “I need you to work your magic, make sure we don’t have anyone crashing the party. And if we do, well, sabes qué hacer, La Araña…” 

Your eyes didn’t reveal any emotion, just the same emptiness present since that day. Your mind began to wonder back to that night, unable to stop the traumatic images flashing from behind your eyes. Valeria could see it, she always knew when your mind would drift off from where you were. You always had a vibrant imagination, ever since you were children, and now it has become your detriment. 

“Was it the same dream?” Valeria frowned. 

You averted your gaze from her’s before nodding. Valeria sighed before nodding. 

“Soon, hermanita,” Valeria growled, “we will bring them all down to their knees, and then, you will have your revenge.” 

Your eyes hardened once more and gave a curt nod, leaving the bannister. You lifted the neck of your turtle neck, pulling it over your nose, concealing your face. 

“Have your men ready, sister, there will be some sort of resistance, I’m sure of it,” you said bluntly, walking further into your nest. 

“We’ll be ready, keep me posted,” Valeria said, walking out the barn door, closing it behind her. 

You slid open the door to your den. A bulletin board covered in photos, some of rivaling cartels, some military, some high profile clients, and other pawns. But at the center of the bulletin with several throwing knives stabbed into it, a photo of none other than Alejandro Vargas. You didn’t dwell on it, stepping over the trail of wires scattered all over the room to your wall of screens mounted above your desk. The screens lit up as you plopped on to the seat. You propped your feet up on to the desk, your eyes flickering over the screens. 

Valeria chose to hide in plain sight, performing as the ultimate enforcer.  It gave her the power she always wanted, and she used that power to make Las Almas a better place. Of course, there were those who believed it to be blood money, but you could care less. You didn’t care about Las Almas, in fact, you wouldn’t have cared if the place was set ablaze. That was for El Sin Nombre to care about -- you had other plans. 

Your eyes stopped on one particular screen. It was footage from downtown Las Almas on the main road that took you through the heart of the city. From the footage, you could see a line of blacked out Jeeps following each other down the road in procession. You screenshot the surveillance, zooming into one of the Jeeps with ease. Rage began to bubble in your chest as the pixels began to refine piece by piece, finally revealing him. Rudy was with him, of course, the two were inseparable. But you could see two other men in the back but the shadow was too harsh for you to make them out. 

“Who’s your new friends, Mi Vida?” You mumbled bitterly, speed dialing Valeria. 

She answered on the first ring, “what you got for me?” 

“Old friends, heading to Hassan’s hideout,” you said, never tearing your eyes away from the screen. 

“Los Vaqueros!” Valeria grinned over the line, “excellent work, Araña. Should I be expecting you?” 

You stood to your feet, a new fire under them, “I’ll be out on recon. Out.” 

With that you clicked, tossing the phone back on the desk before stalking to your gun locker. You grabbed your black duffle first, dropping it to your feet before grabbing your sniper rifle, slinging across your back. Examining a few throwing knives, you tucked them into your harness before slamming the locker shut. Your heated gaze became nailed on Alejandro’s sorry picture, unimaginable rage taking over your cool heart. 

“No más esperas, hermana.” 

✂

The dried sticks and leaves stuck and prodded at you as you laid among the shrubs. You kept your grip steady and gaze trained as your looked through the scope of the rifle. From upon the cliff, maybe a mile from the infiltrated base, you could see everything. Just as you expected, the Mexican Special Forces had swatted the hideout, but Hassan was long gone thanks to your intel. And instead of being greeted by their target, they were welcomed by the Mexican Army who was deep in Valeria’s pockets. Everyone was, it would be stupid if they weren’t. 

You watched as the four men who escaped into the woods fought through the waves of soldiers waiting to ambush them. Much to your disdain, they weren’t much of a fight, eventually falling to the men. You were impressed -- these weren’t just Los Vaqueros. There were two other men, obviously not with the Mexican Special Forces. One of them had a funny haircut that stood him out from the rest and the other had an eerie skull mask concealing his face. It must have been a theme because his gloves also were decorated in a bone motif. Either way, both were proficient in the field, taking down Valeria’s paid Mexican Army left and right, and both had United Kingdom flag emblems stitched to their gear, a dead giveaway. It was clear they weren’t here for the cartel, they were here for Hassan. 

You scope trained on Alejandro again, watching him as he took cover behind a few rocks among the forest. From your perch, you could see everything -- you could see the Mexican Army moving in as you had ordered, and you could see them fail as these lone four men plowed through them. You could take him, you had more than a couple clear shots, but you didn’t. You didn’t. There was still much to know as why these foreigners were intervening at what backup they could have that hasn’t been made clear. So for now, you were on standby. 

You huffed as the men made their ways into a dead end, a cliff. 

“You lead them right to a dead end, pendejo.” 

You were almost surprised watching Alejandro hurdle himself over the cliff, only to land into the river below. Almost. Alejandro always found away. He was a stubborn man who didn’t stop when he had his mind made up. Perhaps at one time you would have found it charming, but now you just saw him as a menace. The other men followed his lead, diving into white water before making their way up stream. You openned your radio channel, a channel that could access any channel at your disposal, this time being the Mexican Army. 

“Están en el agua, mantente alerta.” 

The men didn’t respond, but as you could see, they had their hands full with how these men were making a fool of them all. Idiots. Again, the men took out the army men with ease, until finally reaching resistance where the army had their armored trucks aiming their artillery at the men. Your nerves began to flare, almost worried that Alejandro wouldn’t be able to make it through this one. That he wouldn’t meet his death by your hands. But as soon as the thought crossed your mind, the sound of piercing wind coming from the heavens above. In a blink of an eye, the convoy on the bridge became nothing but flames and shrapnel, destroying the bridge entirely. 

Confused, your eyes shot to the blue sky, squinting through the sunlight until your eyes landed on a single US fighter plane. Americans? No doubt they were here for Hassan too. All you could do was watch as the plane soared farther away as the four men hopped into an abandoned Jeep, speeding away from their close call. With a frown, you watched as they disappeared down the dirt road until they were hidden by the trees. You grabbed your phone, dialing Valeria. 

“Give me some good news,” she sounded grumpy. 

“Los Vaqueros have made friends with our friends up North.” 

“Americans? Puta madre, what the fuck do they want?” 

You began your trek back to your truck, phone tucked against your ear and shoulder as you disassembled your rifle effortlessly. 

“They aren’t the only ones, two others, British. Took out our men and went West.” 

“Was he there?” 

Valeria’s words made you stop in your tracks, listening to the tranquility of the forest around you. You let out a sigh. 

“Affirm.” 

Valeria knew from your tone that the man still lived, bringing a frown to her lips. 

“Pronto, hermanita.” 

You frowned but continued your way down the trail. 

“Yeah.” 

“Bring the general, his mistakes have cost us too much.” 

You threw your duffle and rifle into the cabin of the truck, shucking off your gloves in the process. 

“With pleasure, hermana.” 

Wanna be on the tag list for this series? Leave a comment! Thanks for reading!

#seraphimcollections #seraphimcollections: and you weren't there #alejandro vargas #alejandro x reader #modern warfare 2 #los vaqueros #alejandro #call of duty #rudy #ghost #valeria #angst #mw2 x reader

[levi-venn]

The First Toothpick

Chapter Four: A Little Juicy Gossip

Gen Fic - Mentor/Protege

Summary: Cad Bane teaches Crosshair how to be a sniper. The kid picks up some other habits as a result.

Chapter Summary: Crosshair meets Todo 360 who does not know how to keep a secret.

Chapters: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch7 | Ch8 (Coming soon)

Available also on AO3

“Great callouts, Hunter! You’re a natural leader. Wrecker, we’re gonna need stronger droids to handle your strength. Tech, you sliced those panels in record time! Now let's see," The lieutenant looked at his datapad, scrolling through the rest of the data. 

Crosshair waited for his turn.

The lieutenant kept scrolling, frown deepening.

A brotherly hand squeezed Crosshair's shoulder. He pushed it away. He didn’t need comfort. He needed feedback.

“Alright, pack it up, soldiers,” the lieutenant said, tucking his datapad away. “The final test of the quarter is tomorrow.” 

“Hey, wait,” Hunter said. “What about-”

Crosshair's elbow found Hunter's ribs, chasing the question away.

“Is there a problem, soldier?” The lieutenant asked, raising an imperious brow.

Hunter clutched his side. “No, sir.”

The lieutenant left.

Crosshair would have left too if not for his brothers surrounding him, blocking his escape. 

“You did great , Crosshair,” Hunter insisted. 

“You hit every single mark flawlessly,” Tech observed.

“Yeah! You’re wizard!” Wrecker shouted.

Molten anger heated Crosshair's cheeks. “It doesn’t matter what you think,” he hissed. “The lieutenant’s opinion is all that matters. They are going to retire me.”

“I won’t let that happen,” Hunter said.

“It’s not up to you, Hunter,” Crosshair said. 

“Bugger this,” Hunter sighed and grabbed Crosshair’s wrist, tugging him towards a nearby ventilation grate. "Recon time. C’mon.”

Crosshair thought about kicking him, but...the recon may prove useful.

“Aww, recon?! I wanna come, too!” Wrecker whined.

“This mission requires more stealth than you are trained to handle, Wrecker” Tech indicated. “Also your size would break the air vent.”

“Hehe, yeah, I’m a real tank,” Wrecker grinned, proudly.

Hunter hoisted Crosshair up into the air ventilation tunnel before leaping up behind him.  The tunnel ran in a dozen different directions like a many-armed rapthar, each path identical to the next. Hunter always knew instinctively where to go. It didn’t take long before they found the vent overlooking the lieutenant’s office.

There was another clone in the office with him. 

No...not a clone...

“Is that Fett?” Hunter whispered. “Last time Fett was here, they took Radar away.”

“I know,” Crosshair snarled quietly.

“Oh yeah,” the Lieutenant snickered below, taking his seat at his desk. “He's the best in the facility.” 

“Cut the sarcasm, Pynk,” Fett leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest. “We need a sniper in this squad.” 

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good sniper, but we train good snipers every day. This squad needs someone extraordinary and he isn’t. It’ll save a lot of time and energy to just retire him and pick up a normal sniper for the team.”

A normal sniper…

Crosshair had heard enough. He shoved Hunter down the tunnel and followed him, angrily wiping his blurry, wet eyes as they went.

“Are they gonna retire Crosshair?” Wrecker whispered loudly to Tech as Crosshair climbed out of the vent.

“They will have to retire me first,” Tech said, adjusting his goggles, not bothering to lower his voice. “I won’t let them take him.”

“Yeah,” Wrecker slammed his fists together, “me neither.”

He ignored them both. He made a point to ignore them both. They were all idiots, thinking they could change anything by just wishing it wouldn't happen.

And Crosshair was an idiot for daring to think he could be extraordinary.

The next day, Crosshair earned the nickname “Misfire.”

Not long after that the bounty hunter, Cad Bane, took him away.

***

Crosshair couldn’t sleep.

The room was too quiet without Wrecker’s chest-rattling snores, too dark without the faint glow of Tech coding on his datapad, and even though Hunter was practically a ghost at night even when awake, Crosshair missed him, too.

Facing the fact sleep wasn’t going to find him, Crosshair slung his rifle over his shoulder, tip-toed down the hall past Bane's room, slid down the bannister, avoiding the creaky stairs altogether, and slipped soundlessly out the front door. The weather-beaten porch was barely held together by whatever rusted nails poked out of the cracked wood. He kept his steps light, but each footfall he could feel the threat of a creak beneath his boots. He leapt over the stairs entirely and landed in the dark soil with little more than a quiet squelch.

The moon was a meager sliver in the sky that didn't do much to illuminate the wheat field, but the way it moved in the wind reminded Crosshair of the black waves of a rarely calm nighttime Kaminoan sea. 

“Goin’ somewhere?”

Crosshair hadn't heard anyone approach. How was this possible? And yet, as he turned, he found that Bane had been sitting in a rocking chair in the darkest corner of the porch, only his red eyes, half-moons obscured by the brim of his hat, could be seen.

Crosshair refused to be rattled. He planted his feet firmly in the soil and and puffed up his narrow chest. “I’m going to scout the perimeter.”

“Got sensors for that, kid” Bane replied. “Ain’t a soul out there except for us n’ the Fabools.”

“Then I’ll go check on the Fabools.”

“You don’t gotta worry about them until tomorrow mornin’. Todo will show ya what to do.”

Crosshair had no response. Wrecker's clumsy question floated in his head.

Are they gonna retire Crosshair?”

He needed to do this. He needed to do...something.

Bane’s head tilted slightly.  “What?”

Crosshair didn’t respond.

I don’t want to be retired. I want to live… at least long enough to fight a real battle with Tech.

Bane let out a strained growled, his spurs jingling as his boots landed heavily on the porch. In the darkness his scarlet eyes cast harsh shadows against his scarred face. 

“You n’ me are gonna get along a lot better if ya stop bein’ so fuckin’ timid. You’re a soldier, right? You’re an elite sniper? You’re a tough guy? Then stop bein’ afraid of everything. I’m bein’ paid to train ya, but I may ask Jango for extra cuz I gotta go lookin' for yer spine first before I can teach ya anything.” Rows of sharp teeth gleamed in the dark. “Start talkin’.”

I want to live.

I want to live.

I want to live.

I-

“I…don’t want to be retired.”

The teeth vanished. The eyes dimmed. Bane leaned forward and into the meager moonlight, confusion etched into his scarred face. “What do ya mean ‘retired’?”

“If soldiers don’t meet their lieutenant’s expectations, they’re retired and their data gets erased. Radar and Pintsize were retired last year. No trace of them anywhere. Like they never existed.” Crosshair scrubbed his sweaty palms against his pant legs. He couldn’t stop talking if he wanted to, like trying to fight momentum down a steep hill. “Radar was redundant. Hunter’s tracking skills were sharper than his. Pintsize could barely hold a blaster with his tremors. The lieutenant said I’m not ‘extraordinary’ like the rest of my squad. I dropped my sniper rifle last test. They started calling me-”

The name seized in his mind. Tech’s magnified eyes glaring at him as if he was somehow holding onto the name. 

“That’s not who you are.”

“Jango knows about this? These retirements?”

Crosshair blinked. “What?”

“The retirements. Are they his decision or not?”

“It’s the lieutenant’s decision.” 

Bane rested his elbows on his knees, his unyielding glare boring into Crosshair. “Who’s this lieutenant? What’s his story?”

“A first generation clone. Lieutenant Pynk,” Crosshair thought about how to describe him. “He’s an asshole.”

Bane snorted. “Yeah, I gathered that much. So when you told me you’re the best in the facility that was his sarcasm I was hearing?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Well, fuck Pynk. We’ll show him what extraordinary looks like.” he extended his hand. “Gimme your rifle.”

Crosshair tightened the grip on his rifle strap. “Why?”

“Oh yer full of questions now, huh?” Bane sneered. “Official inspection, soldier. Give it here.”

With a small hiss of protest, Crosshair handed the rifle over.

Bane gave the rifle a little spin as if testing the weight. He looked through the scope. He ran his fingers over the stock and gave it a good shake.

“No wonder you can’t razzle and dazzle anyone,” Bane snickered. “This here’s a piece of bantha poodoo .”

“There’s nothing wrong with my rifle.” Crosshair said. “I clean it everyday. I calibrated it this morning. It’s fine.”

“Yeah?” Bane tossed the rifle back to Crosshair. “Prove it.”

Bane stood up, reminding Crosshair just how tall the Duros was compared to him. He was taller than Pynk and somehow that was comforting to know. In one swift movement, Bane hopped over the porch railing and with a crisp snap of his leather duster, he vanished around the side of the house.

Crosshair followed. At first it looked like Bane had simply disappeared, but upon a closer look, the side of the house was covered with a wide wooden trellis far too reinforced to withstand just the weight of creeper vines.  He looked up and saw a brief glimpse of the brim of Bane's hat on the roof. Crosshair slung the rifle over his shoulder and climbed. 

Some of the roof tiles were flatter and smoother than they appeared, leading to an ornamental bell tower half the size of Crosshair and far too small for Bane to fit. Still, Crosshair peeked into the bell tower and found...a short chute leading into a spy holodrama.

It was one part sniper tower, one part high-tech surveillance bowl filled with panels and devices similar to the simulation models Tech ran through to practice slicing communications and monitoring air traffic.

Bane sneered up at him. "C'mon in, kiddo."

“What is this?” Crosshair asked, hoisting himself into the chute and using the short ladder to climb down.

“Crow’s nest, watchtower, sniper tower, reinforced bunker, whatever we need it for. There are a couple of cots under the false floor if we get swarmed and have to lay low for a while.”

“Who would attack us?”

“The local authorities, mercs lookin' to even the score, raiders aimin' to steal the Fabools which can sell for a pretty credit on the black market.” Bane pressed a switch under his seat and the blank wall flipped over to reveal a pair  of LL-30 blaster pistols and a 773 Firepuncher rifle, the kind Crosshair had only seen in firearms databanks Tech sliced in for him.

Bane grabbed the rifle, charged it up, and checked the scope. “Don’t have to worry about any of that tonight though. Tonight, we’re doin’ some target practice...”

He dialed something into the control panel. A long opening slid 280 degrees around the tower at Crosshair’s eye-level, no taller than his fist, yet a screen flickered around the opening to reveal a holographic image of the surrounding area. 

“I can see everything,” he said.

“That’s the idea,” Bane replied. “Watch the field.” 

He flicked another switch and a blue light shimmered over the wheat field as the security shield went down. 

The grass started to quiver almost immediately. 

“What’s out there?” Crosshair asked, sliding the barrel of his rifle through the opening and peering through the scope. 

“Stalker lizards,” Bane said. “Lookin’ for a free meal inside that Fabool enclosure. Tell me what ya see.”

Crosshair toggled the heat sensor display on and off, watching the heat signatures from the lizards and the dark shadows of the landscape. “Lizards about a meter long coming from the southwest.” He scanned the enclosure next, remembering his training. Always check doors, corners, exits, and blindspots.

“We have blindspots.”

“Where’re the blindspots?” Bane asked, clearly a test. 

“South and East walls of the enclosure.”

“Already covered. Look again.”

The heat signatures didn’t change. The landscape didn’t change much either. Crosshair lowered his scope and leaned over the edge of the bell tower as if it would help. “How-”

Bane grabbed his jumpsuit and pulled him back. “Stay in here.” He pushed some monoculars into Crosshair’s hands. “Your little toy scope doesn’t have a range finder, use these.”

“It’s not a toy.”

“It surely is. You wanna be an extraordinary sniper? You gotta grow up n’ use a real sniper rifle. Now quit givin’ me that death glare n’ look at coords 233.32, 33.4.”

Fuming, Crosshair looked through the monoculars. “Coords 233.32, 33.4.” He repeated. 

Crosshair dialed in the coordinates and let the cursor on the display guide his movements.

There were several panels in various parts of the field. Each panel was painted with a shiny yellow number and embedded with silver reflective discs. “Are those mirrors?”

“Tell me which one to shoot.”

“What?”

“Can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but yer askin’ too many questions. Just do it.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes and shifted his scope from mirror to mirror until the caught the reflection of a stalker lizard climbing up the fabric wall of the enclosure.

“Panel two, center.”

A blaster shot rang out, it ricochet off the mirror and the low-power stun blast knocked the lizard off the enclosure, driving it back to the treeline.

“Again.”

Crosshair aligned his vision. Another panel. “Panel three, top left.”

The blaster bolt fired, ricocheted, and hit its target.

“Keep callin’ ‘em,” Cad said. "Faster."

“Six, low right. Four, center. Two, top center. Two, top left, no wait-”

“Two, middle left,” Cad corrected and took the shot. 

“How do you see them without the monoculars?” 

Bane snatched Crosshair’s monoculars and shoved the Firepuncher into his hands. “Built-in rangefinder in the scope. Give it a try.”

Bane’s rifle was heavier than his, but it also felt sturdier and a lot more powerful. He did a quick procedural check of the power cell, the scope angle, and acclimated himself to the weight before sliding the barrel through the opening.  The scope was alive with readings. Rangefinder, coordinates scale, the crosshairs shifted as it looked for moving targets and returned to center when there was nothing. 

“This is cheating,” Crosshair grumbled.

Bane snorted. “No such thing in this business. Besides, you can spend all the fancy credits in the galaxy and it don't make you the best. Yer greatest mod is yer eyes n' yer instincts. Now shut up n’ start firin’. Lizards are startin’ to swarm.”

The heat signatures doubled and Crosshair took shot after shot, chasing the lizards away.

“Good.” Bane said.

Good, but not extraordinary, Crosshair thought.

Two lizards scaled the corner of the enclosure. Crosshair hit the leader and it landed on its follower, scaring both away.

He waited for Bane to praise him. It was an impressive shot.

Bane remained silent.

Another lizard leapt from a panel onto the enclosure wall. He shot one mirror and it ricocheted off another mirror and hit the lizard between the eyes, sending it sprawling backwards before scurrying off. 

That was impressive too. He waited for the Lieutenant...no...he waited for Bane to comment.

Bane said nothing.

“He’s a good sniper…This squad needs someone extraordinary.”

He took another shot. The blaster bolt bounced off the mirror and hit the tail of the lizard. It kept climbing. 

He took another shot. The lizard dropped.

“Sloppy,” Bane said.

Crosshair’s bolt hit the edge of the enclosure, wool sizzled. The Fabools inside bleeted and honked irritably.

“Shit shot.”

“Are they gonna retire Crosshair?” Wrecker asked, eyes wet with tears.

Another miss.

“Worse,” Cad said.

And another.

“Shittier.”

He shot a mirror, it ricocheted into the night.

“Now yer takin’ yer failure out on the mirrors, huh?” Cad snickered. “Try again.”

The rifle felt heavier. Like the hands of a dozen laughing cadets and one unimpressed lieutenant was pushing it down. 

“Look out, here comes Misfire.”

The heat signatures began to multiply through the scope.

“What’re you doing?” Bane asked. “I said try again.”

Shit shot…worse…failure…

The trigger refused to move. 

“Misfire…Misfire…Misfire…”

“Dank farrick,” Bane swore and grabbed the rifle, firing five shots in quick succession. Blaster bolts soared and ricocheted off the mirrors, scaring away the rest of the lizards. He punched the control panel and the blue shimmering shield spread across the wheat field again. “What was that about? You forget how to shoot?”

Crosshair's hand twitched. He didn't move. He stared at the rifle.

“What the hell, kid?”

Crosshair couldn’t feel his fingers.

Hands shaking, he managed to hoist himself out of the bell tower.  By the time he got to the bottom of the trellis he realized he had left his own rifle behind.

Tears blurring his eyes, he raced back to the front of the house, crashing through the door and stomping up the stairs. 

He hid under the covers.

In a bed that wasn’t his.

Without the rifle that he didn’t deserve anyway.

***

The next morning, the house seemed empty. Bane wasn’t downstairs, but breakfast was waiting for Crosshair. A plate of bacon and eggs on a warming plate.

He ate quickly and guzzled the apple juice, politely pushing away the black caf and wondering if it was only there because he knew Fett was never far from a cup of caf.

He wandered outside to the sun sprinkling the wheat field with golden light. It made him squint. Climbing up the trellis, he poked his head in the bell tower. Neither rifle nor Bane was there.

His heart dropped. He felt sick. If Bane confiscated his rifle, then Crosshair was probably heading back home today. He hoped he’d be able to say bye to his brothers before they retired him. Then again, he didn’t get to say bye to Pintsize and Radar.

Climbing back down the trellis, he walked to the Fabool enclosure punching in the code he watched Bane use the day before. The gate swung open and before he could fall into a cuddle pile of Fabools, a stout droid flew directly at him, nearly slamming him against the gate.

“Who are you?!” The droid asked, round, unblinking yellow eyes flashing with suspicion, his thrusters hissing angrily as he floated in front of Crosshair’s face.

Crosshair pushed himself off the gate. “Bane told me to take care of the Fabools with Todo this morning.”

“I am Todo 360,” the droid declared, spindly arms flailing. “Did Mr. Bane order you to spy on me?” 

“No. If I was going to spy on you,” Crosshair said, dryly. “You’d never know it.”

The droid’s three-fingered hand touched his non-existent chin thoughtfully. “Oh. Hmm. That’s…a valid point. Fine, you may stay, but I am in charge here and you will tell Mr. Bane that I am doing a perfectly good job and I don’t need any help.”

“Fine by me.”

“We’ll start with feeding practices!” Todo announced, shooing away the Fabools who seemed to hate the sound of his thrusters. They rolled towards Crosshair and away from the noisy droid. It was hard to worry about retirement when there were a dozen soft, bouncing balloons begging for his attention, and Crosshair decided to enjoy the moment, taking time to pet each one while Todo did all the work. 

“Well, you’re already proving yourself to be an adequate assistant," Todo said, cleaning the water trough. "It takes me three times longer to fill their troughs when they try to bully me into their cuddle piles.” Todo floated towards the hose and dragged it across the enclosure, straining between words. “Your...reaction...to them...is...far…different…from…Mr. Bane’s…first…interaction.”

“What do you mean?” Crosshair asked.

“Oh, Mr. Bane was terrified of the Fabools when Fett brought him here. Practically climbed up on the fence to get away from them. He was scared of a lot of things back then though.”

Crosshair’s jaw dropped into his lap. “Bane? Cad Bane?”

“Well he wasn’t Mr. Bane back then. Just Cad. He hadn’t chosen a surname. Some Duros culture thing. I never understood it.”

“How long have you known Bane?”

“Many, many years.”

Crosshair cupped a Fabool chick in his hands and pressed it against his cheek. It snuffled at him, inquisitively. “Why was he afraid of the Fabools?”

“He full of paranoia when we met him,” Todo said, lightly. “Just distrustful of everything, in general.”

"But..." Crosshair stared dumbfounded at Todo. “How did he get so…”

“...so very 'Bane' ?” Todo asked.

“Yes.”

Todo held up an authoritative finger. “By eating his vegetables, little boy,” Todo hummed and floated towards the food sacks.

Crosshair rolled his eyes. “What else do you know about Bane?”

“Oh, I know lots about him. I’ve known him for a very long time. I’m his most trusted confidant. I am sworn to secrecy though so I couldn't possibly share anything with you.”

Considering how much Crosshair learned about Bane in the thirty seconds he knew Todo he decided to just nod. “Okay.”

“But…” Todo floated forward, hands rubbing together conspiratorially. “...I do have a few juicy tidbits I could share if you’re interested.”

Crosshair made a mental note to never tell Todo 360 anything about himself. “Sure.”

“Oh goodie! It’s so rare I find someone to gossip with that aren’t Fabools. Bossk and Aurra tell Mr. Bane everything .”

Crosshair scooted forward, setting the chick down on the ground only to have two fabools bounce into his lap and a third bounce against his back. Somehow all of the Fabools reminded him of Wrecker, only cuter and less annoying. “What else do you know?”

“Hmm…oh! Here's something. He didn’t know how to use a blaster when he met Mr. Fett. Mr. Fett taught him everything he knew about being a mercenary.”

“I figured that much.”

“But did you know that Mr. Fett and Mr. Bane engaged in a bar fight before Mr. Fett left for his secret project?”

“Why?”

“Is it not obvious? Mr. Bane idolized Mr. Fett, followed him around like a fabool chick bounces after a feed bag. When Mr. Fett left mercenary work, he left Mr. Bane behind. Mr. Bane took it very personally, but I think it was the best thing that ever happened to him.”

“Why?” Crosshair pressed.

“Because that is when Mr. Bane found that cool confidence in himself. Mr. Fett was always there to lift him up, reward his victories, and tutor his failings. Mr. Bane had to figure out how to exist without Mr. Fett and it was then I noticed that confidence grow like a hmm…like a cactus blossom! He went from Mr. Fett’s shadow to being quite the opposing figure himself.”

Crosshair sat quietly, absorbing this fact. It was hard to imagine the Bane today cowering from Fabools or needing help from anyone.

Or starving for someone else's approval.

When he thought of Bane, he thought of the easy stance, arms relaxed and thumbs hanging over his belt buckle, a toothpick casually moving between his teeth, round eyes behind hooded lids that could see through a person with more accuracy than a scope. That nonchalant drawl, the cheeky turn of phrase, unrattled, and prickly.  

All the things Crosshair wanted to be. 

“Has Bane ever had an apprentice before?”

“Not to my knowledge. Mr. Fett’s request is unusual, but Bane would do anything for-”

“Kid, get up.”

Crosshair startled, whipping his head back to find Bane leaning against the wall, arms folded, toothpick rolling lazily in his teeth. How long had he been in the enclosure? A Fabool snuffled at his boot, lost interest than bounce against Crosshair's head.

“Come with me.” Bane left the enclosure without another word.

Crosshair didn’t move at first. Not because he was covered in Fabools, but because he knew this was the end.

Retirement…

He’d finally find out what happened to Pintsize and Radar.

“Nice to meet you, Todo,” he said, standing up and gently rolling the fabools away who happily bounded towards the droid.

“Oh! Well nice to meet you too, um… ‘Kid’.”

“Sit down,” Bane said, pointing to the rocking chair on the porch before going into the house.

Crosshair sank onto the flower-patterned cushioned seat, trying and failing to rest his boots on the railing. It was too far away. He sighed and drew his legs up, hugging his knees. He watched the skies for a ship to come and pick him up. 

Bane came out a few minutes later and sat in the other rocking chair, boots landing with a jingle of his spurs on the railing. Crosshair’s rifle was in his hands. It took all of Crosshair’s self-control not to lunge for it, hug it, and promise he would never abandon it again.

He hugged his knees tighter.

“Doesn’t take a genius to know why you ran out last night,” Bane began, tilting his hat up to look Crosshair in the eyes. “You crave praise like a dying man thirstin’ of jocola . I don’t reckon you get a lot of positive reinforcement at the facility n’ ya know what? Tough shit. The sooner ya realize the galaxy ain’t gonna give ya validation is the day ya actually become the extraordinary sniper I know ya can be.

“This is the last and only time I’m gonna say this," Bane continued. "Yer real fuckin’ good, and yer gonna be the best. I ain't ever wrong about shit like this. Now...you hold onto that praise because after this conversation, I ain’t gonna be nice to ya anymore. Yer gonna get pushed n' pushed hard, yer gonna get shaken, and I’m gonna do everythin’ I can to get ya past this bullshit worry about what everyone else thinks. Maybe you’ll hate me, hell ya might even shoot me in the back, but it’ll be worth it because it’s gonna send ya past that kraytshit extraordinary standard Pynk’s got for ya.”

Bane offered the rifle back to Crosshair. “I promise, by the time ya get back home, yer gonna be tougher than a reek’s horn n’ twice as deadly.”

The moment Crosshair’s fingers touched his rifle, he knew it was augmented. It felt like a Firepunch. Better scope, heavier stock, a weapon for a real sniper. He peered through the scope. 

“Whoa,” Crosshair murmured, scanning the field with his scope, toggling between more scanners than he knew existed. “Wizard.”

“Listen kid, in this galaxy there’ll be plenty of people tryin’ to put you down, break your spirit, break your bones. Only person you gotta trust is yourself. Yer all ya need, you understand me?”

Crosshair realized it was a lesson Bane had to learn when Jango left for Kamino. It would be a lesson Crosshair would carry with him the rest of his life.

Even if Bane was hired to train him, to be this mentor, it meant something to Crosshair. "Understood."

“Go clean up. Food’s in an hour. Beef stew minus the carrots. After that you start yer real trainin’. Deal?”

Crosshair hopped up, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. “Deal.”

“One more thing, kid.”

“Yeah?”

“What did you and Todo talk about this morning?”

Crosshair didn’t bother lying. “You.”

Bane growled quietly. “That gossiping little shit. What did he say?”

Though Crosshair didn’t intend to lie, he also didn’t feel like ratting Todo out. So he was honest about the thing that mattered most. 

“He said you’re better off without Fett around.” 

The words seemed to splash cold water on Bane’s face. The mercenary  looked away, out to the golden field, too bright in the noonday sun. 

“Is it true?” Crosshair asked. 

Bane’s glare didn’t skewer Crosshair as sharply as he expected. In fact, it looked like he may even answer.

“Target practice starts at dusk. Bring your A-game, kid. Not holding back on you. Now get outta here.”

And with that Bane sank into his rocking chair tilted his hat forward over his eyes.

The conversation was over.

Crosshair was happy he asked.

#tbb crosshair #bad batch crosshair #crosshair #the bad batch #tbb #star wars the clone wars #cad bane #tbb hunter #bad batch hunter #The First Toothpick

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

I have been thinking of ways to make it a fun read for those who want to know about my comic con trip. This is the best I could do.

it was my first time going to a con alone, I have massive social anxiety and am still trying to learn how to live with adhd/sensory overload issues

this was a really, really big deal as I have never done this for any other series/group of actors

At 10AM their Q&A panel started

I was in disbelief seeing Alex, Arnas, Mark and Timothy 

In real life?????? WHAT?????

They are ALL beautiful!!!!!!!!!!!

No, really, so beautiful?? And for what???

also funny as hell

It eased me knowing how good their energy was

After the panel Arnas walked past me

He didn't look at me tho (well my back was turned to him at first)

but I did fuck up the text message I was writing when I saw him so close once I looked up

My first photo op was with Arnas an hour later

Boy I was nervous

Legit thought I would pass out seconds before

He said HELLO

And suddenly I was looking into his eyes

HIS!!!! EYES!!!!!!

I was so flustered because wow????? 

WOW!!

also he looks taller on tv???

But JUST AS BEAUTIFUL IRL

"Do you want to pick me up?" I blurted out

"I? you? SURE!" he stammered

Mans really went for it and picked me up

I thought we were posing already

But lil dude leaned in closer to me

Supported me with his thigh too???

Oh man those thighs….

Whewhhh

Also after the pic I saw my leg had rested onto his leg too???

But yeah so basically he had me in his arms AND in his lap??

He felt so warm

And soft

So comfortable… 

what was I saying

OH, right, the picture so yes

After he put me back on my feet we both looked a lil??? Lost???

And I asked for a quick hug which he gave and HHHHH

I thought I looked really silly in my pic but when I saw it I nearly screamed

I love it

Okay then my picture with Mark and Arnas

I was still nervous but also hyper as fuck at that point (bc my meds kicked in)

You had to wait around a lil corner before your pic got taken

The group pics were taken all together, so Alexander was there and I think Timothy too but honestly I didn't see him because well:

I walked in the booth and did my regular HELLO *jazz hands/deer in headlights*

What was I thinking???? Lmao

And I locked eyes with Alexander and WOW

Beautiful man

But he got shoved away by the staff because I only had a photo with Mark & Arnas

sorry

Mark: wow that was high energy (he chuckled aaaaahhh)

"YOU!!!!" Arnas yelled with big eyes

Mark: do you have a pose in mind?

Me: no, I'm just?????

Mark: okay we'll-

Arnas blurted out(and I type in caps so you understand how hyper he was and how FAST he rambled): I HAVE AN IDEA!!! YOU COME STAND HERE *he pointed next to him* AND WE LIFT YOU UP BY YOUR HANDS LIKE THIS *he grabbed my hand!!!!* IS THAT OKAY? *looking into my eyes* ARE YOU- ARE YOU SAFE????? *he nodded with a lowkey concerned look*

Mans was really double checking if I was comfortable with his idea

Arnas really wanted to lift me up again huh????

They took my hands

Mark placed his hand on my upper arm

Arnas wrapped his hand around my elbow

luckily everything went so fast I could not think about that one fic request in my messages which I almost finished about a threesome with Sihtric and Finan

ANYWAY

I looked at Mark

Who gave me a mild concerned smile????? dude????

"Just don't drop me" I whispered under my breath

And they lifted me up and for some reason everyone in the room went like "ooohhh" admiringly

???? idk why

Probably because they lifted me very graceful and smoothly

Once I was back on my feet again I thanked Mark as Arnas ran to the photographer

Arnas: wait, I think I looked down when you took the photo, let me see??

I froze midway, looking at Arnas, and I shrugged like??? Is the pic good???

Everything seemed fine and I thanked them again and walked off

I like to believe Arnas just wanted to take the pic again so he could lift me up once more HAHA

Just kidding

I didn't noticed during the pic itself but Arnas stood adorably close to me while Mark was more casual 

and MARK'S FACE LMAOOOOOO

I just crack up every time I see the pic

Mark really squished my arm tho

Also why does Arnas look so good?? 

I don't even know what his expression is but yes please

Also, Arnas, clean your sneakers baby boy

AUTOGRAPH TIME (only Arnas tho, I'm a broke girl)

I brought the Lords of the North book for him to sign (first book Sihtric appears in)

Arnas: wauw!!! Lords of the North!! Can I- is that inside?

Me: ehhh I would prefer it if you uhh like on the cover…

(I misunderstood him, I only noticed when I heard our conversation back, he meant if it was really the book inside the loose cover, but I thought he wanted to sign inside the book)

Arnas: just an autograph? or???

Me, feeling confident: you can write an entire poem if you want

Arnas: I can write a poem?

Me: go nuts…

Arnas: Sanne, Sanne… in the sky…. Sanne, Sanne…. Sanne, Sanne, like the sun… this is gonna be weird. Sanne, Sanne, like the sun… shine upon us, will you hon?

hon????????????????

Yeah I died

I watched him write and noticed how he writes like me

Me: I love how he just gradually gets larger handwriting

Arnas: that's my like-

Me: NO BUT SAME (I feared I offended him, I speak without thinking sometimes)

Arnas: No, no, but the people are- they say you have mental issues if you like- if your writing goes like this

Me: no! But it's, yes! But I think it's an ADHD thing, which is what I have

Arnas: you like… like… yeah

Me: And since my childhood they were like "your handwriting is…it's really bad"

Arnas: Yeah! Yeah, I've been, always been told that.

Me: and I can't write like this… I always write every letter together

Arnas: I know! I've someth- when I, if I j-journal I usually do that, but I'm, I'm trying to copy my dad because his handwriting is… *gets distracted by his poem* shine upon us…

Arnas: taking a lot of space. I did write a poem! I don't know, you told me to. I hope I didn't mess it up.

(I reassured him he didn't)

I asked if he wanted to take the selfie after that

Arnas: absolutely! SANNEEEEEEEE!!!! 

Here we just both had the zoomies 

He fumbled with the popsocket on my phone and I lowkey gestured apologising?????

Arnas: I love these. *wrapped his arm around me*. No, no, I just wanna put my finger in this(the popsocket!!). Cause I always, I always rip them off

Me: oh don't do that

Arnas: well, cause, OH

He accidentally took the photo already as he was rambling

He took a few pics

Arnas: give us a hug *he leaned in*

Me: distracted as he had just handed my phone

Arnas: GIVE US A HUG

Me: wAIT of course

*he pulled me in*

Oh my god?????

Me, after hug: I also wanted to tell you that-

Arnas: you smell nice!

?????????????????????

Me: oh thank you! But I wanted to tell you that I recently saw Deadly Code, because my boyfriend is from Lithuania too so-

Arnas: OOOOH I saw you!! You lived there, right????

Me: wait, no, what???

Arnas: because I saw the pictures on instagram! I mean you tagged me and you had pictures of Lithuania, right?

Me, somehow very boldly: were you stalking my page? (jokingly)

Arnas: WELL… you tagged me in something and I was like "who is this girl?" and then I went to your page and I saw the pictures

Please know that I only tagged him in a few of my insta stories about TLK, and I know he only saw the first one I tagged him in, which is nearly two months ago now????? So it had to be that time he went to my page and why tf did he remember

I'm crying

Asdhbfjkhk

He then asked my boyfriend's name and told me to greet my bf in Lithuanian

I thanked him in Lithuanian and he said it back to me, and said something like he'll see me next time again (guess I kinda have to meet him again now huh)

After that I went to Alexander his line, next to Arnas, for a selfie

Arnas looked at me several times again as I was waiting there

It made me nervous so I tried to avoid his eyes LMAO

ALEXANDER

Oh my, so sweet, so calm!!!!

Complete opposite of Arnas his chaotic energy

Such an angel

All of them are angels btw

And then I went home bc tired

Later that night I made a lil insta post about the day and explained to my followers how it went and how I handled it, as they know what big of a deal it was for me to do all this on my own

Then Arnas liked my post the next morning

And he fucking commented: WELL DONE

And now I'm here….

Still smiling like an idiot

Also my bf was legit a bit bitter about Arnas his behaviour and his words to me

oopsie

Anyway

yeah that was it... this post is way too long. I don't have the digital pics yet so yeah this is it

#the last kingdom #arnas fedaravicius #alexander dreymon #mark rowley #finan #sihtric #uhtred