#before I went about trying to batch-wash them
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If anyone else has a problem with dishes collecting in a room because bringing them to the kitchen and washing them right then is Too Much Of A Hassle, I cannot recommend strongly enough a) creating a “dishes basket” so that they all collect in on easily-portable place and b) scraping all the food scraps into one place.
#if I was REALLY on it I'd also spray them down with hot water then sprinkle baking soda on them and leave them for an hour#before I went about trying to batch-wash them#tam.txt
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ive been a little upset about it all night so i need to write out all the things that happened at work today and are bugging me so i can TRY to get it out of my head and actually RELAX bc i just keep pacing in circles around it instead of just accepting it and moving on
#for context i was working frying chicken today. ok so i arrive and literally all the chicken out expires within ten minutes of each other#meanwhile to remake everything takes about an hour 20#tried my best to get everything out and replaced and make sure i have enough of everything and then take my break bc with chicken there are#few narrow windows to take your break in you have very little control over when it is#get back and while im getting ready for my next fry one of the assistant leaders comes back and passive aggressively asks 'everything ok?'#and when i say yeah shes starts saying how shes 'just checking' because apparently i didnt have enough chicken out for her liking and went#on about how we're in a chicken drive (I KNOW. I WORK CHICKEN SHE NEVER HAS.)#etc etc. i just say ok and she leaves#like 20 minutes later she comes fucking back to rag on me again about how i need to choose my break times better and i need to have more#chicken out there as back up (extremely difficult bc there is literally only so much room in the fryers. the batches i usually make already#nearly completely fill them up) blah blah and then when i try to explain how i WAS making pretty big batches people are just snatching them#up fast she keeps trying to walk out the door right away and keeps stopping and looking over her shoulder to just stare at me while i try t#finish my sentence#and she just. doesnt say anything in response when i do finish she just leaves#so clearly she didnt want a conversation she just wanted to rag on me#then later for cleanup the timing of everything just kept lining up inconveniently so i kept having to get in and out of raw cleaning gear#and slowing myself down and i end up having to stay almost 15 minutes late to finish cleaning#during cleaning i have to go grab a key to the back door to take out my trash and this one coworker i have was standing in the way of the#door. i say excuse me and she just stares at me and goes huh?#and i say i need a key and she barely moves out of the way without responding and she has a look like im bothering her#why are you acting like im being douchey. i just need a key. thats something she does a lot she acts like im inconveniencing her by asking#basic favors . ive stopped asking her to help me open the back door (sometimes needed if i also have raw garbage to take out and therefore#cant touch the key myself) for some reason she takes it upon herself to almost completely close the door after i walk out so when i come#back i have to awkwardly use my foot to reach around and pull the door open#ive asked her before not to do it and she just ignored me#GRAH GRAH. and then like i said in my last rb i realized while i was drivign home i forgot to wash a damn pan#im mostly worried about it because ive forgotten a couple times in the past too . in my defense its a pan i personally dont use but it just#gets left behind from first shift sometimes and then second shifters end up having to make sure its clean#im just irritateddd and im mad im worried about it all. its all little things piling up on each other#LOL I WROTE A LOT MORE BUT THE REST GOT CUT OUT IG I HIT A TAG LIMIT. tumblr voice ok dude quit your bitching !!
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sassy — park jongseong
pairing: husband!jay x wife!reader
genre: fluff, crack
synopsis: jay trying to re-gain his dramaqueen daughter’s attention after she got mad at him.
the kitchen was filled with the sweet scent of vanilla and sugar, mixing perfectly with the soft hum of the oven. you glanced over at your daughter, who stood on a small stool next to you, her tiny hands busy rolling cookie dough into little balls. her brows were furrowed in concentration, but there was no hiding the little pout that had settled on her lips ever since jay had told her she couldn’t help him earlier.
jay stood a few steps behind, nervously rubbing the back of his neck as he watched the two of you. “princess,” he started softly, trying to catch her attention, “i’m sorry, okay? daddy just didn’t want you to get hurt.”
she ignored him, huffing dramatically as she placed another cookie on the baking sheet. “mommy says i can help her,” she said, her voice holding that unmistakable sass she’d developed lately.
you stifled a laugh, not wanting to encourage her but also finding the whole situation too adorable. “she’s right, you know,” you said, glancing over at jay with a small smile. “i’m keeping her away from the hot stuff.”
jay sighed, knowing he was going to have to work harder to win back his little girl’s favor. “i know, i know,” he mumbled, stepping closer. “but can daddy at least help now? i miss baking with my favorite girls.”
his daughter finally looked up at him, her big eyes narrowing as if she was considering his request. after a moment, she sighed, crossing her little arms over her chest. “only if you say sorry again,” she demanded, her tiny voice serious.
“i’m really, really sorry,” jay said, kneeling down to her level. “i promise next time i’ll let you help more. deal?”
she seemed to think about it for a moment before a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “deal,” she agreed, reaching out to pat his cheek like she’d seen you do countless times.
jay couldn’t help but grin, leaning in to give her a quick kiss on the forehead before standing up. “thank you, princess,” he said, feeling a wave of relief wash over him.
the three of you continued baking, your daughter’s earlier grumpiness completely forgotten as she giggled and chatted with both of you, her mood lifting with each cookie she helped make. jay couldn’t stop himself from glancing at the clock every now and then, knowing that 8 pm was just around the corner. it was their special time, and he needed it more than anything.
as the last batch of cookies went into the oven, you caught jay looking at the clock again. “don’t worry,” you said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “you’ll get your cuddle time.”
he smiled sheepishly, feeling a little silly for being so anxious about it. “i just… i don’t want to miss it,” he admitted.
you reached out, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “you won’t,” you promised, your eyes warm and understanding. “and i’m sure she’s looking forward to it just as much as you are.”
sure enough, as the clock struck 8, your daughter was already climbing onto the couch, her small frame getting comfortable among the pillows. jay quickly followed, scooping her up into his arms and settling down beside her. she snuggled up against him, her earlier sass completely replaced by the soft, sleepy demeanor that always appeared around this time.
you watched them with a smile, feeling your heart swell at the sight of the two most important people in your life. jay met your gaze, his eyes full of love and contentment as he wrapped his arm around his little girl. “come join us,” he whispered, patting the spot next to him.
you didn’t need any more convincing, slipping onto the couch and nestling in beside them. your daughter yawned, her eyelids already drooping as she mumbled something about cartoons. jay reached for the remote, putting on her favorite show, but it didn’t take long before her breathing evened out, the steady rise and fall of her chest signaling that she was fast asleep.
jay sighed softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “thanks for letting me make it up to her,” he whispered to you, his voice filled with gratitude.
“you’re a great dad,” you whispered back, leaning your head against his shoulder. “she just likes to remind you who’s really in charge sometimes.”
he chuckled softly, knowing you were right. “yeah, she’s definitely got your spirit.”
“i’ll take that as a compliment,” you teased, closing your eyes as the warmth of the moment wrapped around you like a blanket.
the three of you stayed like that, cuddled up on the couch, the soft glow of the television casting a gentle light over the room. and in that quiet, peaceful moment, jay couldn’t imagine anything better.
do not copy or reblog my work — @/jaysng
#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen x reader#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fluff#enha#enhypen smut#park jongseong#jay fluff#park sunghoon#sunghoon#enhypen jay#enhypen soft hours#enhypen soft thoughts
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PRIZED POSSESSION ‹𝟹
ᯓᡣ𐭩 ; bridget hearts x gn reader.
summary ⸝⸝⸝ bridget freaks out after hook breaks the bracelet you made her.
warnings ⸝⸝⸝ hurt/comfort, capt. hook being a bully (as per usual), brief mentions of a scratch.
note ⸝⸝⸝ this is heavily inspired by this fic,, i highly recommend reading it, it's incredible !!!
bridget smiled to herself, skipping happily through the merlin academy hallway. with a small pink tupperware in hand, she was currently on her way to visit you! she'd come up with a new cupcake recipe and wanted you to be the first to taste it. the new batch was made with you in mind, so she was over-ecstatic for you to try them.
she exited the hallway, now happily skipping through the courtyard. she'd only made it about halfway before the feeling of cold metal grazing her wrist startled her. she let out a yelp as she stumbled back, dropping her tupperware on the ground when she flinched.
“whoops!” the voice made bridget take her eyes off the scratch running across her wrist — she looked up, noticing james waving his hook around teasingly. her bracelet —the bracelet you'd gave her on your first date— was dangling off the edge of said hook.
she immediately froze and held her hand out, her palm facing upwards, “please– please give it back.”
it wasn't until james denied her request and began taunting her, that she finally noticed how worried she actually was. she felt so, absolutely sick to her stomach, and it only made her want her bracelet back even more. putting on the bracelet had become a staple of her morning routine, to the point that how her day went all depended on if she was wearing it or not. she had a really deep emotional attachment to it, and it was only occurring to her now how much she truly cared for the bracelet. it was already torture for her when she'd misplaced the bracelet once before, so the thought of losing it for good was agonizing.
tears pooled in bridget's eyes from all the negative thoughts circulating in her head — and she started getting angry. she didn't know why james decided to mess with her bracelet so suddenly, you two had always been pretty public, but someone noticing the importance of her bracelet was extremely obscure. whatever the reason, she was sure that uliana was behind this.
“give it back!–” she lunged forward, trying to get the bracelet back from james. he stepped back, trying to dodge her, but at the same time she'd managed to just barely grasp it, causing the distance to make it to stretch far more than it could handle.
bridget flinched when the beads flew everywhere — she stood eerily still, as if moving would make the moment more real. james' laugh pulled her out of her thoughts, and she immediately dropped to her knees, trying to pick up all the beads through tears. james uttered a couple more sentences before walking off, probably more taunting, bridget was too focused on finding all the beads to listen to him.
she spent a couple of minutes on the ground, combing through the grass looking for every single little bead through silent sobs. she hadn't found another one for a little while now, but the feeling she was still missing a couple plagued her deeply. though, she couldn't handle being away from you any longer, and the feeling of people staring at her as they passed by was making her feel so humiliated — she hesitantly stood up, cupping the beads she'd collected tightly in her right hand, then quickly grabbing the tupperware she'd dropped earlier with her other hand before hastily running off to your room, letting out a few sniffles as she did so.
── 𖹭 ──
you jumped at the sound of your door suddenly swinging open, but your panic immediately washed away at the sight of bridget with tears streaming down her cheeks.
you rushed over to her, “bri? what's wrong?”
“hook, he– i– m'sorry.” she opened her right hand, showing you all the scattered beads. you frowned at the sight, quickly putting the pieces together of what had probably happened.
“it's okay, we can fix it. it's alright.” you took the tupperware out of her other hand, swiftly moving to place it on your desk, “put the beads here.” you grabbed a small empty container, and she hesitantly dropped the beads into it.
she wiped her tears away, watching you place the container on your desk. you turned back around to her, your arms open wide to offer her a hug — she immediately accepted the offer, rushing into your arms and quietly sobbing into your chest. you hugged her tightly, murmuring sweet nothings about how you could easily remake the bracelet for her.
── 𖹭 ──
after a little while of comforting, bridget had recollected herself, and the two of you were now sitting at your desk, beginning to remake her bracelet.
bridget had her head rested on your shoulder, along with her arms wrapped firmly around your torso — she remained mostly silent while you rebuilt the bracelet, only occasionally perking up to tell you if a certain bead was in the wrong spot. she'd spent so many minutes of her life just staring at the bracelet, absolutely enamored that you'd taken the time to make such a lovely gift for her. so of course the pattern was engraved into her memory, it was nearly impossible for her to forget it.
you placed the last needed bead on the string, before holding it up to show bridget, “it's finished!”
her eyes lit up and she squealed, letting go of you and holding out her hand, so that you could tie the bracelet around her wrist. she smiled eagerly as she watched you adjust the bracelet accordingly, her heart swelling with joy as you tied the string ends.
when you finished tying it she stood up and happily twirled around, before hugging you tightly whilst uttering a bunch of "thank you"s over and over.
she let go of you after a moment and then spun around once again, beginning to ramble about how she thought the bracelet was ‘broken forever’ while cheerfully pacing around your room — she suddenly paused mid-sentence, her eyes drifting to the pink tupperware on your desk that was discarded earlier.
you tilted your head at the sudden silence, before tracing her line of sight back to the tupperware. you pointed at it, turning your head to face her before tilting your head again. “uhm, i... made those for you!”
she sheepishly walked over, picking up the tupperware and opening it. she frowned, noticing that the two cupcakes had fallen upside-down when she dropped the tupperware earlier. she picked up one, bashfully handing it over to you.
“they.. were prettier before... but it's a new recipe! you were.... kind of the inspiration for them.” she rocked back and forth on her heels, watching anxiously as you took a bite out of the cupcake.
she let out a sigh of relief when your eyes widened with —what she correctly assumed was— delight. “bridget, this is amazing!” she immediately blushed, joyfully beginning to ramble on about the recipe.
before she got too into the recipe, you interjected, “why don't you tell me about the recipe while we make matching bracelets?”
bridget's face lit up straight away, and she skipped back over to the desk, happily agreeing over and over. she sat back down next to you, excitedly rambling on about what colors you two should pick for the bracelets.
after deciding on colors, she turned her rambles to focus on the recipe, like you'd suggested — in all honesty, all of her baking lingo made zero sense to you, but you were just glad that she was back to her usual cheery self.
#₊˚⊹☆ – 1.2k words#₊˚⊹☆ – divider creds; cafekitsune#bridget hearts#bridget hearts x reader#descendants: the rise of red#descendants the rise of red#descendants rise of red#descendants ror#descendants#gn reader#gender neutral reader
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Hii! Merry Christmas<3 Can I request some nsfw for sir nighteye please? He works late and doesn’t get home until really late at night and the reader is kinda sad because they’re lonely without him. Ty :))
All I Want For Christmas.
Sir Nighteye x F! Reader (smut)
A/N: As you can probably tell, I got the request last year during Christmas. Shame on me for taking so long, I truly apologize. You can beat me up if you wish, anon, I wouldn't blame you </3 (also if you noticed re-used writing of mine from other fics in this... mind your business)
Word Count: 1.4k
Tags: Nighteye's real name used, smut, p, handjobs, oral (f receiving), established relationship
The holidays were always hard. Mirai was dedicated to his job, being Sir Nighteye and all, even as the winter months approached. He never forgot about them, per se, but he never made much room for them. He tried to get off of work earlier when he met you, making sure that he would at least see you before you went to bed every night. A call, a text, anything. He did his best, but no matter how hard he tried, work was his driving force in life.
You tried to not let it bother you, you knew the hardships that came with being with a pro hero. You kept that thought in your head as you stood near the oven, bending down to shove your last batch of cookies in.
You had been baking the whole day in preparation for Christmas. Hoping that Mirai would join you, you had an apron sitting on the dining room table for him, but that hope had faded out at around 9:30 P.M. when you realized it would be another late night of work for him. Your hands trembled a bit, the heat of the pans seeping through your old, worn oven mitts as you transferred a hot tray to your makeshift cookie decoration station.
You slapped icing on the warm cookies, blowing on them as the sweet frosting melted off of the tops. Your table had become cluttered and messy, with icing, sprinkles, flour, and crumbs dusting the tablecloth.
“Damn it,” you mumbled, slipping your thumb into your mouth after catching a scoop of icing on it. You took a whole cookie, hands fidgeting at its warmth as you struggled to hold it, and took a bite, trying to enjoy yourself as much as you could, despite your husband's absence.
“They look nice.”
“Hmph?" You spun around quickly, hand wiping quickly at the crumbs on your lips. Your eyes relaxed when you noticed the familiar green tufts of hair and golden eyes before you. “Yeah, I’ve been making them all day.” She held back from adding 'no thanks to you' at the end of her sentence.
“Do you need any help? I don’t have to go into the office tomorrow. I can help out for as long as you need me to tonight.” Mirai offered his hand out to you, but let it fall down to his side when you coldly turned away from him.
“Most of the work is done already, I don’t think I need your help.” You winced at her own words, feeling the venom they were laced with. “I think you should just head to bed. I can handle this."
His stoney face didn’t budge, he clearly wasn’t satisfied with your answer. “I’m sure you can, but I’d like to help you. I enjoy spending time with you, doing things that you enjoy.” Rolling up his sleeves, he began clearing the table of the cookie cutters and mixing bowls, placing them softly in the sink. “I will wash those later, do not worry.”
You ignored his words and tried to urge him away again. “Aren’t you tired from work? I really think you should go to sleep. Working for so long just to come home and do more work can't be healthy.”
“Is that what this is about then? Me working so long?”
“No, it’s not. And there is no ‘this,’ nothing is going on,” you scoffed, dripping more red icing onto a stray cookie.
There was silence for a moment before you felt arms wrap around your waist, firm but gentle. You placed the icing bag down on the table and tried to look, but your neck couldn’t crane far enough to see him. He slouched down, resting his head on your shoulder.
“I have been neglecting you, haven’t I?”
“Mirai, no, it’s not like that, I know your job is Important. I can’t imagine how hard it is to be a hero, but I just wish…” your voice fizzled out a bit when his large hands started to travel up and down your body, stopping at your chest momentarily.
“That I’d make more time for you? I hear you, dear. I’m not being fair, am I? Here you are, doing all of this alone, and during the holidays. Leaving you alone at a time like this isn’t considerate. Leaving you alone at all isn’t right on my part.”
He licked a stripe over your neck, sucking on the spot softly. His teeth edged the skin, leaving a small purple mark on it. After examining it once more, he let go of you and spun your body around to face him.
“I know you’ve missed me,” Mirai said softly, “I’ve missed you too. Being with you, feeling you, all of it. Can I show you how much I’ve missed you?”
You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Please.”
He used his long, thin fingers to untie the knot at the back of your apron, shooting it down to the floor. He made quick work of your pants too, leaving only your shirt on.
Before he touched you, you quickly made your move and unbuckled his belt, slipping his cock out swiftly.
Giving a few, testing strokes, you held as much of his cock that she could manage in your fist. You went fast, tip to base, knowing he would want to stop to please you instead. He shuttered a bit, hips threatening to snap into your hand.
“You spoil me," he said softly into your ear, jaw tensing with each stroke, "but right now is not about me. I want to apologize to you, to make you feel good. Let me.”
You didn't let go, instead you focused on the head of his cock, rolling it in your hands. “Not until you cum. I've waited too long for this."
Mirai took a breath through his nose and huffed at you. "Fine."
He stopped holding his composure and let himself sink into the pleasure that your hand provided. He could cum quite quick if he let himself go, but his tense nature let him last quite a while in other circumstances.
His breathing went ragged and sharp. He brought his hips back and forth, fucking into your hand desperately. He pulled your hand off of his dick before he could cum, not honoring your little agreement.
"Hey, you promised," you whined, frustration crossing your face while you looked up at him.
"I know. I am such a liar, aren't I?" His breathy laugh fanned your face, and the small smile he flashed was enough to erase any anger you had in that moment.
He placed his hand gently on your face, tipping your head to look up at him. "Do you want my mouth, or do you want me to fuck you?"
"Your mouth." You felt his hands manhandle you upwards, placing your body on the table behind you.
"Good. I always like when you choose that option."
His mouth made quick work, tongue already gliding small circles around your clit.
"Stop moving," he said, pressing his tongue flatly on your mound. Your legs kept pressing together, as if you were trying to push him away. He slipped one hand between your thighs and forcefully held them apart.
His large tongue slid through your wet folds, slowly teasing through, from your entrance to her pulsing clit. He stopped at your clit again and clasped his lips around it, sucking on the tender bud. He let dribbles of spit fall from his mouth onto your cunt, only slurp it back up again to keep you wet and messy.
Not hesitating, you reached your hand down and gripped his hair, holding him in place, and rolled your hips onto his face.
He didn't mind, simply letting a soft laugh escape his lips. It was cute, the way you took what you wanted from him.
Your legs stuttered as you moved, twitching while moans caught in your throat. Your hands still pushed his face into your cunt. The feeling of his nose nudging your clit sent you over the edge. A sweet wave crashed over you, making you practically vibrate with pleasure.
After your grip on his hair loosened, your husband stood up and looked down at you, eyes peeking past his fogged up glasses.
"So, do you think you can forgive me now?"
You rolled your eyes at the smirk that played on his lips and shook your head. Rolling over, you pushed your ass up against the tent in his boxers.
"Not yet."
#barleyxnighteye#smutfic#x reader#bnha x reader#sir nighteye x reader#sir nighteye#Mirai Sasaki x reader#smut fanfiction#x y/n#mha#my hero academia
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Buttercream Frosting - Gaz x Reader Bakery AU
Content Warnings - Mention of masterbation and sex, yearning, sexualization, domestic fluff.
Previous Part Series Masterlist Main Masterlist
A/N - Whoops, I put this off. Anyway, I'm taking up a small writing challenge in April and have 6 chapters (not including this one) planned.
Gaz can’t remember a time, at least in the last few years, that he’s ever been this excited to go over to someone’s place. Evening could not come fast enough despite the fact his small leaves always seemed to speed by. Gaz grunts as he lets the weights drop to the ground and grabs his water bottle, taking a big drink of it. It feels like his body was producing enough heat for it to roll off him in waves, sweat across his forehead and biceps. He glances at his watch again and has to stop himself from groaning. Gaz puts the weights away and wipes down the equipment he had used all while thinking about tonight. You had invited him over. For taste testing.
He wasn’t sure if that's your way of suggesting something or if you really want him to try a recipe. Gaz washes the sweat on his face away with the sinks in the gym locker room as he debates this in his head. He had listened to you get fucked and left high and dry by whoever it was who failed to use his damn dick right. He had jacked off to it on top of listening to it. And you weren’t really moaning. He groans and looks at himself in the mirror as he feels blood rush south fast. Was he a teen boy again? Sure fucking feels like it because any thought linked to you turns into something lewd.
His mind drifts to the bakery and cafe, to the idea of stopping by there if not to just get a look at those pants that seems determined to become your second skin. He decides not to. He’ll be seeing you later, in your own flat in whatever clothes you wear outside of work.
He knocks on the door an hour after he heard you arrive home. Enough time to shower and change he figured. He didn’t need to be tortured by your work uniform. He fears his self restraint might snap in half like a twig if you were still wearing it. You open the door and Gaz feels himself relax a little. Sweatpants and a baggy shirt. He could handle this. “Ready to taste my cupcakes?” You ask. Fuck.
For apparently your first time using this recipe, the cupcakes weren’t awful. Although that might just be his massive sweet tooth talking. You watched him with your bottom lip between your teeth, you’re trying to kill him, he concludes as he licks off stray frosting from his fingers. “How was it?” You ask eagerly and Gaz has to think about it for a second. “And don’t hold back.” You say firmly.
“The frosting could do with some more sugar and the cupcake itself was a little dry.” He says after thinking about it for a moment. You scrunch your nose, clearly in thought as you went through the steps in your head to see where you could have gone wrong to make the cupcake a little dry. You wander over to the piece of paper that was the recipe, you cross out a few things and add new measurements.
You turn to him with a grin, “Wanna help me make this batch?” You let out a laugh at how quickly he nods his head. He decides he would like to hear that laugh all the time. He helps with the measurements and lets you handle everything else, at your insistence of course. You hand him one of two frosting covered spoons and he’d have to be blind to realize you were staring as he licked the frosting off, yours untouched. Gaz stands there with you, looking like a deer in headlights before he moves in a little closer. He sets the now licked clean spoon to the side and tilts your head up with two fingers under your chin. You visibly swallow as he leans in, he can still taste the buttercream frosting on his tongue.
Then the timer goes off for the cupcakes in the oven. You practically jump away, “Better get them before they burn.” You sputter out as you rush to the oven and slip on the mitts set to the side. The batch of cupcakes turn out perfect.
#gaz call of duty#gaz x reader#gaz x you#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick#kyle gaz garrick x you#cod mw2#cod mwii#bakery au#gaz x y/n
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Out in the desert, no one can find you... (Hex Tiles 1)
A sharp wind whistles through the desert dunes, bringing no reprieve to the travelers following the thin paths left out in the sand. Don't drink from the river — the plants that grow along its shores contain toxins that could leave a grown man coughing up blood, and chemical spills float through the current. A faraway road carries the rare drone-tank, long abandoned from any sort of human use.
My newest hobby, to distract myself on months when the purse is a bit too tight to be buying plastic crack from Games Workshop, is to build modular hex tiles! It's super easy — I pick up a hundred of these wooden MDF tiles from Amazon for $10 (they're advertised as 2", but they're 1.75" from tip to tip, and each side is 1"), grab any spare craft supplies I have lying around, and get to work! They're super quick (this first batch of one hundred took me around a week) and they open the door to a lot of cool experimentation. A lot of this is inspired by the work of u/Marcus_Machiavelli over on Reddit, who makes these fantastic modular hive city components that I hope to someday be able to emulate.
I'm making these for two purposes, neither of which I've put in practice yet but I'm hoping to get to do at some point. They're for:
Any mass-battle games played at 6mm. This could also work for Adeptus Titanicus or the upcoming Epic reboot that Games Workshop is working on.
Tactical TTRPGs like Lancer that are played with large beings, who can operate on a 6mm scale.
Once I get some games in with them, I'm sure I'll encounter future problems and reassess how I approach them. But for now, this is what I've got!
I Hate Sand
The first set of tiles I made, to serve as the backdrop for the rest of them, are these sand tiles. I chose to make this a desert (and thus make a bunch of sand tiles) because I already had some sand lying around, and because it's really cheap and easy to work with. Be careful though! Anakin was right; sand sucks. Try and pick up a finer grain than what I went with, apply the sand in a more-controlled location than I did, and secure it better than I did too. But here's how I did them:
Coat the surface of the hex with a mix of PVA glue and water.
Sprinkle on a light dusting of gravel or small rocks.
Apply a thick coat of sand on top of the gravel.
Knock off excess sand and recycle it for next time.
Spray with 1-2 layers of varnish. (I would recommend a sealant instead, but I didn't have any at the time)
For the ones with little paths on them, I painted the path on with White before applying the gravel or sand, and it shows through well enough! The paths are unnecessary — they're a fun experiment, but I don't think I'll be making more of them in the future.
The Gurgling Creek
Making the river tiles was a bit more involved, but still pretty easy. The method I came up with I think looks a lot better than just painting on water, and is a lot easier to work with than resin or water effects.
Use some kind of texture gel to build up the riverbanks, trying to have them end around 1/4" on the sides of the tiles where you want your river to connect.
Paint a strip Black where you want the river to flow, running from one edge to another.
Apply sand as before, everywhere except where you painted the black. (If you're worried about fucking this up, you can swap the order)
Varnish (or use sealant) as before.
Take some gloss mod podge and mix it with a light blue paint, and apply in large goopy quantities everywhere you want water to be. Leave overnight to dry. (If you want the river to be less cloudy, apply many thin coats of mod podge instead, letting each layer dry before applying the next)
As an extra, stipple green along the edges of the water and use a dark green wash to create patches of vegetation.
The river pieces are my favorites, and I'm the most proud of them. The tiny bridge was a thin strip of balsa wood, painted white and then washed black. It turned out fine.
I did a solid mix of straight river pieces and curving river pieces. If I was going to do it again I'd make more curving pieces than straight river pieces, because the curving ones make more sense for how rivers work.
The Road To Nowhere
These road tiles turned out really well, perfect for a run-down highway in the middle of nowhere. Here's how I made them:
Take a piece of corkboard and cut it down to be 1.75" long and 1" wide.
Glue it on a hex with the two edges of the corkboard touching two sides of the hex.
Go at the edges with a knife, making it all worn down and busted up.
In some of these spots, I fucked up and glued the corkboard on wrong. To fix that, break off a chunk and reposition it so it'll connect correctly. This will look like a big fat crack in the middle of the road, which is perfect.
Coat in a layer of mod podge or PVA glue. Leave to dry.
Once dry, paint the cork entirely Gray.
Drybrush White onto the corkboard, focusing on the edges and exposed spots.
Paint two thin yellow lines along the middle of the road. (These are optional, but they do a lot to make the 6mm scale convincing)
Apply sand, as before, onto the ground and up the sides of the road, so it looks like the road is emerging from the sand. Maybe apply some sand in a couple spots in the cracks to make it look like the sand has gotten in there.
Varnish and/or sealant, as before.
Apply a Black wash to the road. (There's a lot of tricks here! If you want the yellow stripes to be more vibrant, you can only paint them on after the first black wash. You can also target spots of sand on the road to make it look like it's asphalt runoff, soaking black into the cracks.)
Apply a second Black wash to the road.
The bridge was a bit more complicated, and took some finicky positioning and a trip to Kung-Fu Tea.
Take a boba tea straw and cut it into 1" segments, then cut them in half, gluing them to the middle of the hex as culverts.
Take corkboard and glue it over the culverts, bending it so it meets the two edges you want the bridge to run along. If it breaks, that's okay — this is a crumbling, middle-of-nowhere bridge.
Use texture gel and spare corkboard to fill in the gaps.
Use texture gel to define the steep edges of the river. Apply a little bit in between the culverts.
Do all the road steps to the road part of the bridge, and all the river steps to the river part of the bridge.
I'm exceedingly proud of the bridge hex. It turned out perfectly, and feels very emblematic of what I want this project to be like.
Why You, Too, Should Make 6mm Terrain
6mm terrain is amazing to make. Mistakes look like part of the landscape or the brain smudges them over due to the small size, and small changes look like fascinating little details. It really opens the imaginative space and I absolutely adore working at this scale. Plus I'm developing a ton of experience with various materials I've never worked with before, so I get to enjoy the triumph of carving foam or corkboard. It rules! I might even try to make a 28mm bridge after the success I had making a 6mm one.
My future plans for this project include cliffs, craters, 3D-printed shantytowns, and overpasses. But all that is for a later date — for now I'm gonna rest on my laurels, and spend the rest of the evening reconfiguring various tile combinations and cackling like a mad scientist.
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Blackmail Material (Potentially)
Week 7 Alt. Prompt: Getting a Haircut @summer-of-bad-batch Rating: General Audiences (unless Hunter's flirting with an OC is too much, lmk) Word Count: 2435 Summary: Crosshair forcibly takes Hunter to get a haircut. Hunter actually has a good time. A/N: Did not mean for all the flirting to happen in this story, I swear. There are a lot of great brotherly moments in here too.
Are you sure this is a good idea?” Hunter asked, eyeing his surroundings warily.
He did not like this place. It wasn’t often that he went to the lower levels in Coruscant, but the black walls with art strewn across them and the intense lighting did not make him feel comforted. And there were mirrors everywhere. The only cover would be the section behind the counter and a glass display wall of various products. At least the floor was clean, he supposed. Music played—a genre he’d never heard before, and didn’t want to hear again.
Other patrons sat in chairs before the mirrors, and Crosshair grabbed his shoulders, and shoved him down into his.
“It’s fine,” Crosshair said.
“Then if it’s fine, why aren’t the others here?”
“They don’t need to be.”
Crosshair crossed his arms, a toothpick in his mouth, just daring Hunter to get up and walk out.
He was about to, hands on the metal arms of the seat, when a Togruta with long striped lekku, and pink and white skin came over to them. She did have a lovely smile. But then Hunter wondered what a Togruta was doing working in a place like this. It wasn’t like she had hair. Was she any good?
“Hello, I’m Einantha. Will it be just a trim and a wash today?”
Hunter’s gut plummeted, and he tried getting up from the chair. Crosshair casually pushed him back down.
“How short can you make his hair?” Crosshair asked.
Hunter grabbed him by the arm. “Crosshair, don’t.”
Crosshair gave a thin laugh, and said, “Ignore him. He’s just a bit nervous.”
Einantha put her hands on Hunter’s shoulders, and he did like that a bit (he could tell her fingers were strong), but still. Did he have to get his hair cut? Sure, it was at his shoulders now, but he was trying it out, seeing if he liked it.
Hunter only half-paid attention as Einantha ran her hands over his head and through his hair, explaining different styles, and how short it could go.
“Can I have it shorter in the front, longer in the back?” Hunter chimed in.
“So do you want me to cut in the back?”
Einantha swirled the chair a bit, letting Hunter see.
“Hmm…”
“Yes,” Crosshair said. “But seriously, Hunter, what kind of hairstyle is that?”
Einantha wagged a finger at him. “Oh no, no, we don’t criticize anyone’s hair here.”
“Good,” Hunter said. “That’s all he was doing on the way over.”
Einantha and Hunter laughed, and she started getting her tools ready, which gave Crosshair ample time to shoot him a very rude gesture.
Hunter grinned, and wiggled his eyebrows.
Crosshair just waved him off, crossed his arms, and went back to leaning against the counter, chewing on his toothpick, jaw working hard.
“Just know,” Crosshair hissed, “one day you’ll wake up without any hair.”
“Is that a threat?” Hunter asked, voice hard, leaning forward.
“No. Just a warning.”
“Sure.”
Einantha came back over, and gently pulled Hunter back into his seat. Then there was a fluttering sound, and he turned, looking for the source. A black cape filled his vision, and he reached for one of his blasters… which he’d left aboard the Marauder since Crosshair had so cryptically told him to leave them behind.
He still had his vibroblade though.
But then it was on him, and getting fastened behind his neck.
“Relax,” Einantha told him. She patted his shoulder. “Now up, time for a wash.”
Einantha led him over to a recliner by a sink, and he laid down, resting his head back, neck fitting in the groove of the sink.
“Usually in the barracks we just use a knife,” he said. “Nothing as fancy as this.”
“This is hardly fancy.”
Einantha turned the water on, and started running it over Hunter’s head and through his hair. It mostly felt nice, though it did tickle in some spots, and he worried he’d get water in his eyes.
He did enjoy the next part. Einantha was expertly shampooing his hair, hands knowing exactly what they were doing. He closed his eyes, leaning back more, and resisted letting out a contented hum.
“Oh, please,” Crosshair said, quietly enough that only Hunter would hear him. He wanted Hunter to hear him.
Hunter grinned.
“So are you both clones?” Einantha asked.
“Yes,” Hunter answered, “though not like your average clones.”
“Oh, are you better than them?”
Hunter couldn’t tell if she was trying to flirt or not, so to be safe he assumed she wasn’t, and responded, “In a way. We have certain enhancements—everyone in our elite squad does. We don’t usually get called to the front lines, but we do get very tricky missions.”
“So what are your enhancements?” she asked.
“Enhanced senses,” Hunter answered. “Crosshair here is our sniper. You wouldn’t believe the kinds of shots he can make. I once saw him take down a corridor full of droids with one shot. And those are one of the easy ones for him.”
When he glanced at Crosshair he could tell his mood had improved somewhat. Hunter really didn’t want to have some sort of competition over Einantha’s attention. Besides, he admired him, and it was nice to brag about his brothers, including Crosshair.
“How’d you do it?” Einantha asked him.
“Easy. Placed reflector pucks throughout the hall.”
“I assume figuring out the right angles takes a lot, no?”
“Not really. It’s like it’s kind of built into me. Plus we’ve done hundreds of hours of training.”
Einantha shook her head, and started rinsing the shampoo out of Hunter’s hair.
“I could never do that.”
“It’s all we know, I guess,” Hunter said.
“It sounds hard.”
“No, we have each other.”
“Are you like brothers then?”
“Of course,” Crosshair responded.
“I’ve always wondered about that,” Einantha admitted. “If someone’s your clone, but you have no parent, does that make that clone family? Is the Republic just using one big family to fight this war? And does that mean they’re all watching their brothers die?”
“I suppose it does,” Hunter said, missing the fun, (maybe) flirty tone from earlier. But he figured people would like to ask clones questions. They’d want to know what their lives were like. So he expected it when he went out, though his squad got less questions than usual since they didn’t exactly look like the other clones. Sometimes it made Hunter feel lonely, that he didn’t have the same face as thousands of others. But those clones had rejected them, anyway. He cleared his throat, the water currently tickling him near his ear. “We don’t talk to the other clones much.”
“How many of you are in your squad?”
“Well it’s me, Crosshair, and then we have two others.”
“Sometimes I want to see the stars,” Einantha suddenly admitted.
Of course, Hunter’s flirty brain was turned back on, and he imagined taking her back to the Marauder after this, showing her space for the first time, wondering if she’d kiss him.
“You get used to them,” Crosshair said.
“I suppose that makes sense,” she said, turning the water off, and squeezing out Hunter’s hair before wrapping it tightly in a towel. “After all, I’m used to this place, whereas you two seemed ready to jump out of your skin when you first got here.
“Excuse me,” Crosshair said, “that was all him. I’m the one who dragged him here. His hair has gotten so out of control. If he doesn’t put it up during a mission, we’re all screwed because he can’t see.”
“Those were the most words I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth at once,” Hunter laughed out. “You must really hate my hair.”
“You’re lucky I haven’t set it on fire.”
Einantha laughed the hardest out of all of them as she led Hunter back to his seat in front of the mirror.
She realized that, and paused, “Wait, are you not joking?”
“He’s joking,” Hunter assured her.
“You wish.”
Einantha took the towel from Hunter’s hair and started combing it. He wished he could come here all the time. His shoulders had lowered, chest opening up a bit—all the signs that he was relaxing.
“You’re not going to cut all my hair off?” he clarified.
“Not unless your friend here decides to pay me more,” she joked.
Crosshair started going through his pockets, and Hunter seized up.
He simply took out another toothpick, looking all-too pleased with himself at his little joke. Hunter resisted the urge to give him a rude gesture, not wanting to seem crass in front of Einantha.
He watched her in the mirror as she grabbed scissors and got to work on his hair.
During the process, she often pulled his hair straight, showing him how short it was and asking if that was okay. She also would show him where she was going to cut before she did so most of the time. Hunter was surprised how much he trusted her with his hair. He didn’t know why, but his hair was very important to him, more important than it was for the others with their own hair. Well, Wrecker shaved his head at this point due to his scars making it so some of his hair never grew back. Tech just wanted his hair to be practical, and Crosshair felt the same. To Hunter it was a form of expression, he supposed, just like his tattoo.
Hunter and Einantha laughed easily as they talked with each other, and he listened to her about her sister, and how they were living together for the moment, and were the best of friends. He was a little sullen that Einantha never specifically mentioned if she was seeing anyone, but it wasn’t as if Hunter had time for a relationship. Mostly he just had time for stolen kisses here and there. But this woman was beautiful, sweet, easy-going. Her personality was infectious. Even Crosshair was opening up a little (though mostly because he was trying to flirt with her too).
“Okay, close your eyes,” Einantha instructed, almost done with drying his hair.
He did so, feeling excitement, rather than the worry he had expected. She dried his hair for a bit longer, and then was combing it.
He took in the last feel of her hands he’d probably have, and then she said, “Open.”
Hunter warily cracked an eye open, and then the other, facing what was in the mirror.
Warmth seemed to strike his chest.
Was that him?
It was the exact hairstyle he’d described, and he loved it. All it needed was a bandana.
“I had no idea you could get more hideous,” Crosshair joked.
Einantha shoved him with a hand at his chest, saying, “Stop—the rule we have here, remember?”
Crosshair rolled his eyes, but Hunter could tell from his relaxed posture that he was feeling pretty good.
Hunter couldn’t stop admiring Einantha’s work, turning his head from side to side.
“Besides, he looks more handsome this way.”
At this point Hunter was so lost on who Einantha was flirting with. Maybe both of them?
“How do you do such a good job when you don’t have hair?” Hunter blurted out (though he was still blushing from her previous comment).
She grabbed him by the shoulders, giving him a little shake. “Not you too.”
“What?”
“I always get asked this question.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
She waved him off. “No, it’s fine. I just needed to go to school for it, it’s not too hard. I wanted to do this work because hair on other beings fascinates me. I always wondered about it biologically, and how it feels, and what is needed for upkeep. And now I’m here.”
“Now you’re making me wonder why humans bother being hairstylists,” Hunter said. “Sounds like you have more reason than most.”
She shrugged. “Maybe. We’re all here to make someone’s day better, to make someone feel more like themselves.” She leaned on him a bit. “How do you feel? Do you like it?”
Hunter took his gaze from the mirror, and smiled up at her. “I love it.”
Their eyes met for a few tantalizing seconds, and perhaps she was blushing (it was sometimes hard to tell with togruta).
She definitely must have been because Crosshair grabbed his arm. “Come on, we’re gonna be late for dinner.”
Einantha took the cape off of him, and they followed her to the counter at the front to pay.
She slipped Hunter her card, and then Crosshair (just in case Hunter lost his, supposedly).
“Please come again,” she said to both of them.
Hunter smiled. “We’ll try.”
Crosshair gave her a gesture with his toothpick, and the fact that he’d even taken it out of his mouth was a big deal.
As they walked the dark, busy streets of lower Coruscant, their way lit by an array of neon signs, Crosshair said, “Your flirting game is off.”
“Well, thanks for the help, wingman,” Hunter said, elbowing him, drawing attention to the fact that Crosshair had been flirting too.
“I—”
“Thought she was pretty too?”
“Of course,” he argued. “Who wouldn’t?”
“So,” Hunter asked, “are we going back at some point?”
He glared at Hunter’s new hairstyle, as if it had greatly offended him, and said, “That thing is going to need trimming eventually.”
Hunter clapped him on the back, fingers reaching up and latching onto his shoulder as they walked.
“Don’t worry, then. We’ll see her again.”
“I can’t wait for everyone’s reactions at dinner.”
“I have to make a stop at the Marauder first.”
“Dare I ask why?”
Hunter beamed. “I’m grabbing a bandana.”
Crosshair twisted out of his grip, and turned, getting right in front of him. Hunter almost bumped into him.
“Don’t you dare,” he said.
“Or what?”
“Remember my warning?”
Hunter grabbed him, putting an arm around him as he was next to him again, and kept walking.
“Oh, you wish you had hair like mine.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No—” Crosshair cut himself off and sighed. “At least let me take holopics to use as blackmail later.”
Hunter shrugged. “Fine, but I’m always going to love this.”
“Uh huh.”
Crosshair walked beside him in silence. Well, for anyone else it would be silence. From Crosshair it was like he was radiating his teasing thoughts directly to Hunter. And they were rude, even if he was joking about his hair.
Eventually, having had enough of it, Hunter said, “Oh, shut up.”
Crosshair didn’t deny a thing.
#summerofbadbatch2024#week7#getting a haircut#star wars#the bad batch#tbb#tbb hunter#tbb crosshair#fanfiction#the bad batch fanfiction#tbb fanfiction#writing#my writing
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Since you write for RE8 can I ask for Donna, Heisenberg and Lady D with an gender neutral S/O thats like asian and gets triggered by like shoes inside the house, unwashed rice, zero cooperation, and basically all the sterotypical asian stuff (bc its true for me😭)
If you make little HCs or fics is fine
Of course I can, sweetie! But, I would like to note that I am American so I may not get a lot of the cultural pet peeves right, but I will try my best! Also I am very sorry if I kept you waiting for long, this is my first ask and I’m not in the habit of checking my ask box, but thank you for being patient with me!
Lady Dimitrescu
Our favorite sugar mommy is first!!!
Pretty much, you worked in the castle when you first met the lovely Lady Alcina Dimitrescu and it took a little while before she basically told you she loved you and that she wanted you to be hers and to be yours in return
And you accepted obviously because, HELLO, IT’S ALCINA FUCKING DIMITRESCU
THE BEST SUGAR MOMMY AROUND!!!
Anyways, she never noticed your cultural pet peeves until you moved in with her and her daughters
You grew up in a very stereotypical Asian home and your mama didn’t raise no doormat bitch
It all started with the shoes
The girls just came back from chasing down a man who was trespassing and they only made it two steps in before they were stopped by you demanding they take their shoes off
Cassandra was the one who argued the most, saying your demand was stupid and pointless while her sisters were grumbling in agreement
And Cassandra, who was talking with her hands, yelped when you pulled a broom from the literal void and whacked her hands with the broomstick
You began scolding her for talking back to an elder, despite her being immortal, and threatening to get the slipper if she kept talking back and didn’t take off her shoes
You were glaring down Bela and Daniela with the same sort of angry mom glare that you were giving Cassandra, which scared them even more than when they’ve seen their mother angry
Needless to say, within five minutes the girls took off their shoes and set them aside neatly before apologizing and going to their rooms to clean up, per your request
And while all of this happened, Alcina was standing off to the side bewildered by your behavior towards shoes on in the house
You turned to see her standing there and asked her to take her outside shoes off if she was wearing any and to put on some slippers
And Alcina did as you said because she did not want to make you angry
And that was just the start
One evening Alcina was annoyed at all of the noise in the kitchen and went to investigate because she was trying to get some reading in before dinner only to find you yelling at the cooking staff as you threw out a batch of cooked rice and began to start a new one
You were yelling in your native tongue angrily, which you’d been teaching Alcina a few basic words in, and she could make out a few words like “rice” and “wash” and “incompetent” directed towards the staff
And so the cooks left you alone as you grumbled and washed the rice before cooking it properly and glaring at the staff before you exited the kitchen
And apparently, from what Alcina heard from the cooks, you did this when you were working as part of the castle staff
When she asked you about it when you cooled off, you just told Alcina that it was the only way to have rice and that if you didn’t wash your rice, you were a fucking heathen
And Alcina just nodded before she went back to her book she was reading because there was no arguing with you on rice, apparently
There was also one more incident that really stuck out to Alcina and that was when you took her to the market as a sort of calm date idea
But it was anything but calm as you were yelling at a vendor at how overpriced their products were
You spent a good hour or two arguing with the salesperson before you left with what you’d wanted at just a quarter of the original price that was set
You did the same with a couple more vendors that had good things to sell at too high of prices in your opinion and it honestly entertained Alcina to no end
She stood there quietly, a fond and amused smile on her face as she watched you argue and negotiate items down to quarter their original price with vendors and salespeople
You were one of, if not the most, unrelenting and stubborn people Alcina had ever met and she found it cute and admirable
And she appreciates you instigating the rule of only wearing slippers while inside because she’d never felt that much comfort while walking around her own home without going barefoot
Donna Beneviento
Our lovely shy lady! I love her!!
Okay, so she hired you as help so you could help her clean her very large house because it was a lot for her to manage on her own, especially when she had so many dolls to make
And it took quite a while, but you managed to catch the shy lady’s heart and she eventually asked you to move in either her so you wouldn’t be far
Well, it was more like Angie was begging you to move your shit into the house while Donna was trying to get her to ask nicely
Anyways, once you were all settled and Donna developed a cuddling habit while you two slept in the same bed together as insisted by Angie, the lovely Lady Beneviento noticed a few things about you
For example, one day when she was coming back in from gardening, you stopped her at the front door and asked her to take off her shoes
When she asked you why, you answered by telling her that it would keep the floors clean and not make them need so much cleaning if she took off her outside shoes and wore indoor only slippers around the house
While it was confusing to Donna, she saw that you were holding back and trying your best to be gentle with her because you knew yelling didn’t go over well with her, so she took off her shoes and laid them neatly by the door and put on some house slippers you gave her
And, if she was being honest, she’d never been more comfortable walking around her own home
Where did you get these amazingly comfortable slippers?
She’ll never know, but she did find you arguing with Angie about the shoe thing as well since she was also out in the garden with Donna
Angie argued with you for about an hour before you pulled out a sandal from the literal fucking void and told the doll to take off her shoes and put on her slippers or you’d use that sandal
Needless to say, Angie quickly did as you were told and you moved onto the other dolls, who occasionally went out with Donna
There was also another incident during dinner one night
Donna was cooking a dish that you taught her to make and just as she was about to start cooking the rice, you walked into the room and screamed
Before Donna could turn to see you, you quickly snatched the rice from her hands and took it to the sink to wash it
Donna was stunned, but let you wash the rice as you seemed to be both annoyed and in a state of internal panic
Once you finished washing the rice and put it on to cook, you took a breath and explained to Donna that washing rice was very important and you asked her to never cook with unwashed rice ever again, especially not in front of you
Wordlessly she nodded, asked if there were any other rules to cooking the meal and listened as you explained some of the instructions she didn’t understand quite well
Eventually, you had to go into town to get some basic food supplies for the week and Donna actually went with you for once
Because one, she wanted to spend more time with you, and two, she’d seen you come back with far too many things for one person to carry themselves and she wanted to help you carry them
And, much to Angie’s displeasure, Angie had to be left at home as to not scare the villagers and cause unnecessary chaos
And Donna was not prepared for the side of you that came out while shopping in the market
Every time you walked over to a vendor or salesperson selling something, you argued that the price was outrageously high and negotiated beyond belief
Donna just stood want watched in shock and slight awe at you as you negotiated items down to a third or even a quarter of their original price
Your skills were impressive, but you also being slightly intimidating while yelling in your native tongue helped as well
The sandal threat was also on the table if you didn’t get your discount
Even when Donna said that you didn’t have to negotiate prices down since it wasn’t like she was hurting for money, you instantly said that the things in the market were always overpriced and you intended to pay a reasonable price for your vegetables without having to sell a kidney
Knowing you were even more stubborn than a bull, Donna let you shop the way you were taught to like nature intended
If Donna was honest, she found the sight of you shopping and yelling at people that their prices were far too high amusing and almost laughed
Almost because she’s still far too shy to make a sound in public, you’re very lucky she even agreed to leave the house past the garden
But that’s okay, you still love her!
Karl Heisenberg
THE CULTURE SECTION OF MY GERMAN CLASS IS COMING IN HANDY, FOLKS-
Well, he’s German, you’re Asian
Needless to say, you’re both damn stubborn
You both grew up in stereotypical and traditional houses of your respective cultures and, like I said in Alcina’s section, your mother didn’t raise no doormat bitch and neither did Karl’s
So, you were originally hired to be his assistant of sorts because he needed a bit more help around his factory
And eventually you both wormed your ways into the other’s heart and you found yourself living with Karl in his factory
And needless to say, you both had habits and cultural customs that you both insisted on carrying out
One of the first ones you showed was the shoes thing
There was a separate section of the factory that was more like a living quarters for you and Karl and you prided yourself on keeping it clean
So when Karl tried to walk in with his regular greasy and dirty boots on, you stopped him in his tracks and ordered him to take his shoes off and put on some slippers instead
And cue the argument you two began to have about shoes in the home area of the factory that lasted about thirty minutes to an hour
Eventually, Karl did agree to your shoes rule only if you wore a scarf every time you felt you were getting ill, as is a common home remedy in Germany
You both were grumbling about the new rules, but you both eventually got used to them and it became habit
And everything became as calm as it could get for a nice while
But that was before the Rice Incident™
You and Karl were making dinner together because you two enjoyed at home cooking dates and you nearly stabbed him with the knife you were holding when you saw him about to put unwashed rice on to cook
But you instead smacked him with a wooden spoon laying nearby and scolded him in your native tongue as you snatched the rice from him and took it to the sink to wash it
And he looked at you like you were fucking insane, but he didn’t want to fight because he was hungry and the food was going to be cooked anyways, so he just rolled his eyes and moved on to another task
The real fight happened when you tried to spice up the food and Karl stopped you
Traditionally, German food is quite bland and salt and pepper are usually the main seasonings
Paprika is a bit of a stretch in German cuisine-
So, needless to say, Karl isn’t a big fan of spice and would rather not have his tongue burnt off tonight
And the two of you were arguing about spices or about ten minutes before you agreed to leave out the spices until you could add them to your own serving
Food arguments were a regular occurrence between you two, especially when you almost had Weißwurst after noon AND with the skin on
Karl was so disgusted that day that he actually spent time with Alcina in her home voluntarily so he could cool off
But, one culture shock/difference between you two that Karl loves is how you shop
The way you yell about prices being too high and negotiating your way to paying only a quarter, maybe even an eighth, of the cost of just some produce makes him laugh
Karl will start laughing out loud when you really get into the argument, yelling in your native tongue and pulling a sandal out from your bag you had with you as a threat
It was hilarious to Karl, but also the tiniest bit terrifying since he knew how you could turn a sandal into a murder weapon if you were pushed hard enough
All in all, Karl does love you and your stubborn self, even if it causes both of your bull headed asses to butt heads sometimes!
So I’d like to ask; how’d I do? And please be honest with me! I hope I got everything right and it was enjoyable for you! Also, you’re welcome for the tiny sprinklings of German culture in Karl’s section, with my knowledge being curtesy of my German class!!
I hope you enjoyed and please do have a peachy day, good hoomans!!!
#resident evil#re8#resident evil village#lady dimitrescu#alcina dimitrescu#donna beneviento#karl heisenberg
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i really like seeing posts about how other people are processing their fibre, so i thought that i'd add ours. we bought a couple bags (about three kilos—this photo is only half) of raw fleece at sheep and wool, and now have it all washed out and cleaned up.
the most helpful boys in the world were very interested in what we were doing, and frankly far less suspicious of the large tub of water than i would've preferred for them to be.
anyhow, about a kilo of fleece got dumped into the tub and arranged to be as aligned as possible. in future washes, i didn't bother with this and didn't find that there was much a difference, and certainly not sufficient difference to justify the time and effort spent carefully laying it out.
i imagine that this is different if you're washing a whole fleece and things are already more or less aligned. if you're washing a bag of of fleece that's just been plopped into the bag, i would suggest not bothering.
the small bag at the end were some locks that we'd picked ahead of time to see if they washed up nicer. (spoiler: they did not.)
worth noting is that we have one of those bathtubs that's short but deep, so this isn't as much water or space as it looks like.
if you've ever wanted to see how water-resistant wool is, here's a great example. these photos were taken the next morning, and some of the fibre was still totally dry, despite having carefully pushed it all underwater before we headed to bed.
after about twelve hours of soaking, this is what we had—the water doesn't look that dirty in the second photo, but you can just barely see a cloud of dirt at the edge of the mesh bag we were using to hold the wool in place in the tub. (it was just laid on the bottom of the tub, and meant that we could easily move the wool up or down the tub, or lift it out entirely, without having to move it much.)
anyhow, soaking water from this batch went into a bucket to feed my wife's plants. (and then the next batch i fucked up and drained it. 🤡 it's amazing they put up with me, tbh.)
wool got moved safely away from the water, and then it was time for the hottest tap water we could manage. our tap runs at well over 60c/145f, so we didn't bother to try to make it any warmer. as it was, i was very grateful that we'd bought the extra heavy duty kitchen gloves.
we added a couple splurts of dishsoap (palmolive) to the tub, then carefully let the fleece spread itself out again, which doesn't take much encouragement, thankfully. and then we fucked off for a while.
twenty minutes later, the water looked like this.
my hand's in the water to about my knuckles in that photo, and as you may notice, it very much appears that i have no fingers.
second wash. our friend the very large mesh laundry bag helped hold the fleece first away from the drain, and then from the tap, and we did it again just like the first wash.
another twenty minutes, and we had this.
you can almost believe that i've got fingers! progress!
this post offers a great look at what it looks like when lanolin is leaving a fleece. we have incredibly soft water, so most of their findings weren't especially relevant to our washing, but the visual guide is fantastic, especially since it took them so many changes to get things clean.
so again, drained, refilled, and resoaped, then left to sit for twenty minutes. and this time, i came back to this!
a whole entire hand! fingertips and everything! i was sort of surprised, honestly, since fine wools have a reputation for being really lanolin heavy, but after this batch of fleece i went down to two washes, and feel like it was more than sufficient for 90% of it. (there was a chunk of merino/bond cross in a later batch that was a little shorter and more lanolin heavy, and likely could've used a third wash, but i'm using that to make rolags and it's going fine, so whatever.)
anyhow, fleece clean! rinse time!
this looks like fleece in water, because that's what it is. we did two rinses, and that seemed plenty sufficient to get out all the suds.
next we spread it out as gently as possible onto a cheap sweater drying rack and hung it on a giant screw that's sort of inexplicably sticking sharp-end-out of the eaves of our porch. (and you'd be like 'that sounds normal, lots of people have screws or whatever to hang things,' to which i'd say 'it does! except that there are three of them and the placement is utterly bizarre, and this is the only one that you can hang anything from.' my best guess is christmas lights, but why a screw? why sharp side out? how sharp side out, at that?)
wool, drying! and the hated roses that have been blooming all fucking winter and are continuing to bloom and are getting bigger and now have spawned more roses somehow, and now we have a bunch of red roses, too. when we moved into this place a year and a half ago there were only white roses. we don't know where the red ones came from, nor do we know why the roses are suddenly VERY TALL—see how in this photo, they don't even clear the top of the wall? now they're like 50cm over it. eighteen inches over it. why. i hate them.
i will continue to hate them unless they become tall enough and self-support enough that they accidentally shade our office, in which case i will hate them slightly less but i'll be mad about it.
and now we're done! that's a lock of nice clean wool! all we did before this photo was fluff out the tips a bit.
i combed some out, and it's pretty good!
nice little nests of combed top. the wool's slightly different colours because, like i said, it wasn't a fleece, it was just fleece, if that makes sense, so there's a bit of a range of colouration in there. but there's much less loss than i'd expected, even combing it out, and all up this was a much easier and less miserable process than i'd feared it would be!
i've put off buying raw fleece for a long time, partly because i've mostly lived in apartments and haven't had a ton of space in which to wash it, and partly because i'm disabled and was afraid that doing it would be too much physically, but it turns out that i probably could have done this a lot sooner, and also that it's not really that hard on the body. the worst of it for me was bending over the tub to fill/refill and then get the wool onto the drying screen, which was a little rough, but definitely not so rough i wouldn't do it again.
(we then did this several more times to get all the fleece washed, and i can already tell you: we're gonna do it again.)
this is the first time i've done raw fleece that had lanolin in it, so please don't take this as an authoritative resource, but that's what we did, and it worked really well and was a lot easier than i'd feared, so i figured i'd share.
#spinning#handspinning#hand spinning#fibre processing#fiber processing#fibre prep#this was fantastic and i loved doing it#i'm very excited to see what we make with it#though i think a lot of this is going to be experiments with processing the washed fibre#but next year there will be even MORE fibre!!#i'm very excited
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Ok but like, drunk tbb Echo wants to cuddle reader
this is my absolute favorite prompt so far, i love echo so!! fucking!! much!! he deserves the world and also all the kisses
words: 673
clone troopers masterlist
Your eyes were right about to close when you heard the sound of your comm device beeping, and you had half a mind to ignore it completely, but you sighed and reached over to grab it. “Hello?”
“Good, you’re still awake,” Tech said on the other line. “We will be returning to the ship momentarily and wanted to let you know.”
“Already?” you asked, taking a look at the chronometer on the wall of the barracks. The rest of the batch had gone out for the evening, and while it was later than they usually went to bed, you had expected them to spend more time drinking and partying. You had elected to remain with the ship and watch Omega, because Hunter didn’t want her anywhere near alcohol (despite the fact that she was technically older than him).
“I’ll explain more when we arrive,” Tech said, and then the communication cut off, leaving you to wonder what exactly would happen as they stepped foot back on the ship.
And you didn’t have to worry for long, because you could hear them before you could see them, Hunter and Tech walking ahead while Wrecker supported Echo, and you could immediately tell what had happened from the blissed-out look on your boyfriend’s face.
Echo was drunk. Maybe more so than he had ever been before, and even with his brother’s help he was still stumbling as he walked. As they made it up the ramp, you positioned yourself so that Wrecker could pass Echo over to you, and you felt your lover’s arm wrap around you as you began to guide him through the ship.
“Cyare!” he said brightly once he realized what was happening, and he hiccupped slightly after the term of endearment.
“He’s all yours now,” Hunter said, a playful look on his face. Clearly this night out had been good for all of them, even though they might be stuck with some wicked hangovers the next morning. You could only wonder what Echo had said once the liquor loosened his lips, and you resolved to ask Tech the following morning (he seemed the most likely to remember it).
“Come on, let’s get you to the fresher,” you said gently to Echo. He smelled (as you were sure all of them did) like stale alcohol and greasy food, and he would probably feel much better in the morning if you helped him wash all that away now.
“Nooooo,” he said, his voice practically a whine. “Wanna cuddle with you.”
“We can do that after,” you said, fighting to keep a smile off your face. “But right now we’re going to clean you up so you don’t feel gross tomorrow.”
“Kriff that,” he said, trying to change directions and walk in the direction of the barracks, where your shared bunk resided. He was usually stronger than you, but the alcohol in his system and his refusal to be too far away from you played in your favor this time.
Drunk Echo was one of the cutest things you had ever seen in your entire life, but he also had a tendency to act like a petulant child. You could see the similarities between him and Omega right now more than any other time this week.
“Well you’re not getting into bed with me until you smell like a human and not a bar,” you responded, and that was the thing that finally got him to listen to you.
3 beer-flavored kisses, two almost stumbles in the shower, and one set of hiccups later, you were cuddled up with Echo in your shared bunk. He was half asleep already, and you knew it wouldn’t be much longer until he was completely passed out. You leaned in to place a soft kiss on his cheek as you pulled the blanket up around both of you. “Goodnight cyare,” you said softly. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” you heard him say back, right before soft snores filled the space, and you slipped off to dreamland beside him.
#🍷 blurbs#tbb echo#tbb echo x reader#tbb echo x you#tbb echo x gender neutral reader#echo x reader#echo x you#the bad batch x reader#star wars x reader
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hii!! i really love your mountain goats patches, and i was wondering how you make them?
Hi! I'm so sorry this has taken me a little while to answer haha, I've been putting it off because I wanted to give a nice in-depth response.
My patches are all original designs that I make as linocuts and then print onto fabric! I use a Speedball lino carve tool that has several different carving tips, easy carve rubber blocks, and screenprinting ink, and I print onto regular cotton fabric. Screenprinting ink is thicker than the type of ink you're supposed to use for block printing, but I've found that I have to be pretty heavy-handed with the ink to get clean prints on fabric, and screenprinting ink has worked better for me in that regard (plus, it's technically machine wash safe as long as you heat set it).
More specifics/some process photos and a timelapse from my latest tMG patch under the cut!
I don't know if you're looking for specific technique advice, but here's some of what I've figured out after a year of making my patches:
I usually make my design digitally and then use tracing paper to transfer it. If you trace it onto tracing paper using pencil, you can then just flip your tracing paper pencil-side down onto your block and use a little bit of pressure to transfer the pencil markings. This process also simultaneously mirrors your design so that you carve it backwards and then it prints forwards.
Before transferring my design to the block, I like to do a wash with an alcohol ink on the carving surface, so that it's easier to see my carving.
I usually trace the larger details of the design with sharpie, but for the smaller details trying to trace them will often just mess up the lines, so I leave those in the transferred pencil and carve them first to avoid smudging the transferred lines.
I also carve my entire block using the smallest tip on my carving tool, which does take longer but I vastly prefer the really precise control that it gives me! After I have the entire design and an outline around it carved, I'll use a craft knife to cut off a big blank margin around the outside of the design.
For printing a batch of patches, because I typically do a lot at one time, I usually cut out all my fabric before starting to print. I ink the block a little bit heavily, but I keep a close eye on any excess ink around the edges of the design and clean the block off as needed. I don't have any fancy equipment for making prints, I pretty much just put a sheet of paper down on my work surface, put down a piece of fabric, press my block face down on the fabric and use a large book and some pressure on top of the block to make sure the print transfers well. It's taken a lot of practice to figure out how to get prints to turn out well and I made a lot of mistakes in the beginning!
[image descriptions:
1 - a digital drawing, black lines on a light green background, of a ring of keys with a large key and a plastic motel keychain with the words "practice being brave".
2 - the same design, copied to tracing paper.
3 - my hand holding a pink rubber lino block with a blue ink wash on the surface and the mirrored design in pencil.
4 - the same block, fully carved. it fits comfortably in my hand.
5 - the block with a ruler held up against it to show the scale of the text, the entirety of the word "practice" is about 1 1/4" wide.
6 - the design printed in black ink onto light green fabric.
end IDs]
[video description: a timelapse of a white person with dark hair and glasses at a desk carving a linocut block. the shot is stationary and mostly focuses on the block, which is a design of a key ring with a keychain and the words "practice being brave". end VD]
This shows more or less my entire process; the design went through many iterations over the span of a couple weeks, but once I got it nailed down I did the entire rest of the process in one night - just the carving alone took about two hours. I prefer to write text physically not digitally, so the text in the digital version is basically just in the correct alignment so I can freehand over it on the physical copy. This being my most recent design (for now, I'm hoping to knock out a new one before next show in three weeks) is by a pretty big margin the most precise and detailed one I've done!
Thanks so much for your interest in my process!!! I've got absolutely no formal training on doing linocuts, just stubbornly figuring things out through reverse engineering and trial-and-error process, so I have no idea how this measures up to anyone who does do it with any expertise. Hopefully this was helpful in some way/answered your question! 💛
#transmissions from lyric#ask#txt#described#the patch zone#<- click on this tag to see all of the patches ive posted on here!
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Going through his predecessor's case files one lazy afternoon, Heizou comes across a case involving you, a childhood friend and his first puppy love.
The more the detective reads into the case, the more convinced he is that you are innocent. He decides to reopen the case discreetly and finds out you were framed by your best friend who has fallen in love with your then arranged marriage partner. And she had wasted no time in marrying him after you were incarcerated.
Presenting his new evidence to Sara, Heizou has you released from your wrongful imprisonment.
HEIZOU ♡⊹˚ I promise [SFW]
fem. reader (3rd person) ; angst to fluff, I suppose?
3k words.
notes. Slowly trying to finish these out so I can open my asks again. Still, I hope this buildup is satisfactory~ Enjoy ✧˖°.
The streets of Inazuma hadn't felt so quiet in a long while, despite all the noise happening around him. Normally, the detective would have a lot to do, yet strangely, there was no case that needed his attention. A good thing, right? Of course, Heizou was glad that there was a moment of peace, even if for an instance. Still, he was a detective, and for a detective without a job to solve, he felt restless. And when he felt restless, he found himself thinking back to less than favorable memories. He despised that.
"Come on, let's go get some dango!" A young boy shouted to a girl around his age, the pair running through the streets hastily to their destination. Heizou couldn't help but feel his expression soften, his gaze following them as he walked slower.
"Come on Hei!" He remembers the nickname she'd given him, holding his wrist tightly as they would evade through the other pedestrians.
"I'm going! Slow down." He responded, a smile ever present as she only denied him and went even faster.
"And miss out on the fresh batch of dango? Nuh huh!"
He remembers how [F/N] had always loved dango. It was always something they would get whenever they had the extra mora, and the bright smile she would always have never failed to make him in turn smile.
She also loved to go and have a long look through all the stalls, talking about how she would love to one day run her own business. [F/N] also deeply enjoyed playing kemari like the children near him were doing, unbeknownst to her, always winning because Heizou let her.
He could only sigh, his expression returning to a frown. There was no denying how deeply he missed her, yet he had no idea what had been of her. Last time he knew, she was engaged to marry, and Heizou could only watch from the sidelines, supporting her to the fullest whenever his busy schedule let him. Before the wedding though, she had suddenly vanished, and Heizou could no longer contact her. He could only watch as her fiancé seemingly moved on, with one of her closest friends better yet.
His intuition was sharp, and if he knew anything, was that the situation was suspicious. Yet, he couldn't for a while find [F/N], and neither her friend nor her former partner wished to speak with him. He was left to ponder and brood by himself, reminiscing over his friend whilst hoping she would be alright.
It was during one of these afternoons that, with seemingly no cases to crack, Heizou decided to go through a pile of papers that no one within the Tenryo Commission wished to go through. It mostly consisted of papers left by his predecessor, including evidence that led to nothing, testimonies that held no weight, files that described cases that were closed. Heizou's trained eye went through them all, half wishing to find something to do and some case to truly solve. And something he did find, his day ending up doing a massive flip as the sudden gale of information blew him away.
Amidst the files he found a familiar name, it being none other than the one he'd once held so dear - [F/N]. Shock and disbelief washed over him as he carefully read over every little word, sitting himself up in a more comfortable manner as he deconstructed everything, piece by piece.
It made no sense. It simply didn't. If he knew anyone, it would be his friend [F/N]. He would bet his life on her character, and attempted murder of her fiancé was one of the last crimes he would ever even humor her committing. Yet the file described it as such, the evidence, in his eyes, being nothing more than circumstantial at best. The attached papers regarded potential witnesses, yet there were no interviews done, and as such, no alibi thoroughly checked.
It made his blood boil, yet he couldn't deny how he was biased. Even still, if no one would pick up her case, Heizou would have to do it himself. He didn't leave his office for the rest of the following day, and the days that came after, he dedicated every moment that he wasn’t eating or sleeping to making sure he went through all. Of. The. Evidence. In fact, he'd even unearthed leads no one would've even considered, painstakingly going through every little point before beginning to construct his case.
It wasn't long after he found where she was being detained. It broke his heart to even think she was being held for something she didn't do, yet Heizou was on a mission to ensure her release. During one such day, finally, Sara had witnessed him leaving his quarters, yet no questions were asked. The mere expression he showed was enough to her to give him space, watching how he simply walked out into the streets.
He'd managed to appoint a visit, and upon being told someone wished to see her, [F/N] couldn't even fathom who it would be. Life in prison had been rough, and even more so when there was this constant weight on her about no one believing her. No one allowed her to send letters outside, the ostracisation of being labeled a murderer rendering her completely alone. Even the guards gazed upon her with pure hatred, only speaking with her when only utterly necessary. Not even her family wished to see her, cutting her off and publicly outing her in order to save face.
Thus, she was completely shocked upon reaching the visitation room, only to see none other than Heizou. He smiled warmly in her direction, the mere action being almost enough to bring her to tears.
"Hei?" She'd let out, almost as if hesitating it was her who he came to see.
"Hey, [F/N]. Come, have a seat with me?" Instead he welcomed her, patting the table so she would come closer. He only watched with heartbreak as she hesitantly came closer, sitting in front of him while only gazing at him from time to time.
She looked nothing other than exhausted, broken. Her hair was disheveled, the eye bags under her eyes heavy. She'd certainly lost sleep, her skin paler to reflect her poor health. She almost hid her eyes behind her hair, head hanging low. It looked nothing like the [F/N] he remembered, Heizou doing his utmost to remain calm and soothing to her.
"Hey, [F/N], look at me?" He'd calmly beckoned, extending his hand to her as he tilted his head gently. He watched as she obliged, finally raising her head before eventually taking his hand. "I'm sorry I've taken so long. I thought you'd simply moved away and no one would speak to me about it."
"I thought that you'd…"
"Abandon you?" He finished for her, watching how her eyes grew watery at the mere thought. It was his turn to frown, his head shaking in response. "No, no I'd never. I know you'd never do anything like this, [F/N]. Had I known earlier, I'd taken action long ago… I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault, don't blame yourself." She reassured him, her tone a little lighter upon being reassured he was on her side. Finally, she thought, someone that listened to her. At that moment, it was difficult to combat the tears, his grip on her hand tightening.
"I do blame myself…" Heizou confessed, his smile finally cracking as his eyebrows furrowed. He watched as she looked deep into his gaze, his voice lowering as he took a deep breath. "Had I been more attentive, you wouldn't have ended up here. I'm sorry [F/N], I will do absolutely everything to correct this mistake."
"Hei, you can't possibly mean…."
"I'm already constructing the case." He cut her off, his voice hushing in a tone she had so dearly missed. It held the mischievousness and passion that was so characteristically his. His fingers were now intertwined with hers, his grip confident and welcoming as he warmed her hand. "And… I know you'd perhaps rather not talk about it, but I'll need your help."
"Of course… What can I do?" [F/N] asked, her eyes finally gleaming with a hint of hope that fueled Heizou's fire.
"Can you tell me every name of every person you spoke to on the day that you were accused of committing the crime? I'll need absolutely every name, from morning until night, if you can."
"Okay… I'll try my best." She nodded her head.
With a small notebook in hand, Heizou meticulously noted down every name, and at which time she'd spoken to them, down to what the topics of conversation were. It had been a while since, yet [F/N] did her absolute best to try and give him as much detail as she could. There wasn't a lot of time of visitation left after that, but Heizou still went through with asking if she had any idea of anyone that would wish her harm, or want her out of any picture. Of course, he had an inkling, yet he still wished to know if there were any other possible viewpoints he should consider. Unsurprisingly, she seemed to not have anyone in mind; given how she was left to rot without any contact with the outside world, it was almost a given.
"Don't worry, [F/N]. I'll get you out of here, can you hang on just a little longer until I do?" He smiled softly.
"Of course. Thank you Hei… Truly, thank you." She smiled genuinely to him, her heart beating with hope after such a long while.
"Good, I knew you could do it. Before I go, though…" Heizou carefully went through his pocket, before asking her to hold her arm out for him.
Almost reluctantly she did, eyeing him curiously before watching how he gently wrapped something around her wrist. Her lips parted and she gasped upon noticing it was a small bracelet, one of bright and small pearls that reflected an ethereal sheen.
"Are these-?"
"Yeah, they're pearls from Watatsumi Island." Heizou's smile was enough to make her heart skip a beat, his hand still holding hers in place with a kind touch. He lifted his other arm before revealing he now held a similar one to his own wrist, delighting in the way a smile bloomed on her face. "I promise you, [F/N]. I'll get you out of here, and then I'll take you to Watatsumi just like we wished to when we were younger."
"You kept them all these years…" She laughed softly, reminiscing on how she had once given him a pair of bracelets as a gift - the second one being a precaution, in case he were to lose the first one.
"Of course I did!" He feigned hurt over her statement, the pair laughing shortly before quieting down. In an act of bravery he tucked some hair behind her ear, smiling with a softer touch to his features now. "Wait for me, [F/N]. I'll do you justice."
"Thank you Hei… I'll wait for as long as needed."
Bias be damned, his fire was all consuming, raging as the detective roared through the evidence without any mercy. All his time, energy and dedication was now spent on a single case, the others being given to his colleagues as he rarely was seen out of his office if not out interviewing witnesses. Heizou watched, he studied, he learned. Most witnesses were cooperative, the very few that hadn't been interviewed showcasing worry for the young girl that had seemingly attempted to commit murder. Coincidentally, or rather not, their testimonies hadn't been brought to the table, leaving him with a lot of important details that could completely shift the perspective of the case. He could feel it, the resolve of it all was at his fingertips, the truth nearly shining through as he finalized compiling all the evidence.
All that was left was a real culprit behind this framing, but that he already had. From the shadows he watched, his eyes cold and unforgiving as he studied them for days. He watched as [F/N]'s once best friend behaved, living her life seemingly unbothered with no one other than who was once her fiancé. Jealousy… It fit right into the final puzzle, all Heizou needed was a compelling argument, and most of all, a confession.
But oh, how lucky. The winds seemed to bless his days, for the following events lined up almost too perfectly! A case of fraud came to his hands in which [F/N]'s former fiancé was accused, leading him oh but no choice! to investigate their home to clear his name. Perhaps he was being too dirty in his work, yet at that point, he didn't care. He knew he had the culprit, he only needed for it to be truly undeniable to his superior. And as luck would have it, the fiancé was cleared, the fraud being traced back to his business partner. But oh? What would he find in the same box where he'd found this evidence, but a diary that belonged to none other than his wife? Casually he flipped through it, reading every entry, before finally finding the last piece he needed.
A single page had been ripped out, the rest of the diary being used as normal. Yet with nothing more than a little charcoal, Heizou was meticulously able to reveal a cute little entry that overlapped the one that was written in the page, an entry that was more than enough to what he needed. The writing was the same, the construction of the phrases followed the same patterns. There was no denying it.
With it, he had everything needed. He had a confession, a confession that had been ripped out from a diary and disposed of to cover the truth. A confession that spoke of the true culprit behind [F/N]'s case, fueled by jealousy of what her best friend couldn't have if she wasn't taken out of the picture. He had witnesses, a rock solid alibi. It had been difficult, but he'd found an older lady that could vouch for [F/N]'s innocence - at the time of the supposed attempted murder, she had been helping her with cleaning her estate, contradictory to what had been spread.
He had everything, and as such, he finally felt it was enough to present the case to Kujou Sara. His superior knew that it had to be something serious for Heizou to dedicate so much time on, and as such, she listened carefully, a few other members of the Commission accompanying her. It took a while, the process was grueling, yet a decision was made.
[F/N] was innocent, wrongly convicted.
Kujou Sara herself went to the prison where she was held, ordered her immediate release. The woman offered her a sincere apology, promising her name to be cleared without much delay as well as a hefty sum of mora as compensation for her wrongful time spent in jail. Heizou was there waiting for her as well, offering her a place to stay until it was safe for her to return to the public eye.
Never had an embrace felt so warm, the young detective holding her tightly while allowing her to freely cry.
It didn't take long before such a freeing moment finally arrived. The Raiden Shogun herself had been presented the evidence, and after the fact, she ordered a letter be written to announce [F/N]'s wrongful conviction and innocence. Under Her Almighty's name was the young woman deemed innocent, and to those that wouldn't view her as such from that moment on could expect retribution were they to try anything. Only under such a statement would the public be swayed, for if their Archon vouched for an innocent life, they themselves could vouch as well - a twisted point of view, for Heizou, yet it was all that could be done thanks to Kujou Sara.
The fresh air of Narukami hadn't ever felt so liberating. It had been a long while since [F/N] had been able to walk through the streets, Heizou accompanying her as they held hands for her to feel more reassured. His warm squeeze would often bring her back to reality, the reality that she couldn't help but question, after all, she was free? Her eyes would wander around with a small smile, basking in everything she could see while she was still unaware of everything - Heizou figured it was still too early for her to know who had been the cause of her false incarceration; she deserved to first savor her freedom before taking time to process everything else.
"I can't believe I'm free… And it's all thanks to you, Hei." She smiled his way, her face finally gleaming with the light he so much adored.
"You don't have to mention it. I promised, didn't I?" He in turn smiled back, bringing her ever so closer, basking in her presence as they remained with their hands intertwined.
"Yes, you did." [F/N] giggled. "And you promised you'd take me to Watatsumi, too."
Despite the clear tease, he nodded his head with full confidence. "Indeed. Our trip is next week, okay? Don’t forget to start packing." He basked in delight at how she seemed taken aback, him in turn laughing melodiously. "I already have the tickets, and a wonderful little house where we can stay. I can't wait to show you all the best sights!"
"You could've told me! I didn't want you to pay for everything!' [F/N] whined, eyebrows furrowing as the blush on her face deepened in color.
"Don't you worry your pretty little head." Heizou cooed, smiling innocently enough before he added with a hum. "Though, if you wish to repay, I'll gladly take some fresh dango as payment?"
"Deal!" She nodded her head, before holding his hand tighter and beginning to walk faster. "Let's go then, I'll buy you all the dango you want!"
"Oh? How generous!" He laughed merrily, the dreamy smile on his face never leaving his face as he basked in the similar scenario of his younger days.
Yes, some dango and green tea sounded like a great, delicious way to celebrate another solved case.
#genshin impact#genshin impact heizou x reader#genshin heizou x reader#shikanoin heizou x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin drabbles#genshin fluff#genshin impact fluff#yoko drabbles
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could i request “crosshair walking in on the middle of reader getting off” please? also fem!reader if possible if not no worries❤️
One of my favorite smut tropes anon <3 I'm kinda on the fence with how i feel about this one but I hope you enjoy! As always Likes and Reblogs keep me going.
Rating: E Warnings: Mutual Masturbation, Oral (F!Receiving), Unprotected PiV, creampie Word Count: 1531
Masterlist
You finally got some alone time. Finally, after rotation after rotation you were alone in the Marauder while the Batch went out on a supply run. You know for a fact it was not necessary for each and every member to go, but after being cooped up together for maker knows how long tensions were running high and some time outdoors was exactly what the Batch needed.
You checked the readouts in the cockpit that Tech had asked you to keep and eye on, you counted the rations and sent the numbers over to Echo and Hunter, you even washed a set of everyone’s blacks so they had clean clothes to return to and now you were finally free to relax.
Walking over to your bunk, you start to wonder… what do you actually want to do? It’s been so long since you’ve had some alone time you’re at a bit of a loss for how you want to spend said time.
Gazing around the bunk room you take in each member’s small personal space. Tech’s equations and scribbles on the wall next to his bunk, Wrecker’s unmade bed, Hunter’s trademark bandana is loosely shoved under his pillow and Crosshair’s bunk is perfectly made. You get along well with almost the whole batch, and working with them has been a breath of fresh air compared to the stuffy rules and regulations you were used to in your old Venator. The only member that you had a somewhat… tumultuous relationship with was Crosshair.
There was a lot of silence when you first joined, followed by a lot of scathing remarks, followed by playfully teasing remarks, that all cumulated in somewhat flirtatious banter between the two of you. You can’t really say it’s unwelcome banter either, out of the entire Batch, Crosshair is 100% your ‘type’. Witty, snarky, smart, competent and very very handsome.
Your thoughts continue to wander as you gaze over at his bunk, after working with the batch for what almost 100 standard rotations now? You still have never seen what he looks like under his blacks. The other’s have had no issue leaving the refresher in nothing but a towel, or the one unfortunate time Wrecker forgot there was a woman on board and walked out stark naked, but Crosshair? You’ve never even seen his arms let alone his chest or legs, regardless of how much you’d like to.
You look at the chrono and realise no one should be back for at least the next 2 standard hours, more than enough time to let your thoughts run a little wild while you make the most of your ‘alone time’.
You remove the bottoms of your civvies and hop onto your bunk. Closing your eyes, you let your thoughts travel to the stoic sniper and his long fingers, wondering what it would feel like if he was the one rubbing circles over your clit instead of you, how his hands would feel wrapped around your waist as he pounded you into the mattress, what his voice would sound like as he whispered filthy things into your ear.
You slip one finger then a second inside your entrance as your other hand continues rubbing small tight circles on your clit. Small whimpers and moans of his name leave your lips, your minds eye conjuring up lewd scenarios of Crosshair on his knees before you, face buried between your legs telling you how sweet you taste telling you how-
“Am I interrupting something doll?” your eyes open and standing before you with the most self-satisfied smirk you have ever seen is the object of your desires. You close your legs and scramble to get under your blanket.
“C-Cross… I-” you stutter trying to get your breathing under control.
“Oh no, don’t stop on my account, the way you were saying my name was much prettier before” he makes his way over to the bunk directly across from yours. Taking a seat he removes his codpiece and the lower parts of his armour before pulling down his blacks enough to reveal his half hard cock.
He sits there, stroking himself lazily his eyes locked with yours as you slowly remove the blanket covering your lower half. Turning to face him you realise that if he didn’t want you this wouldn’t be happening, so you throw caution to the wind and sit on the bed fully facing him, legs spread putting yourself on display for the man in front of you.
Crosshair lets out a low whistle as he watches you play with your clit with one hand, your other hand reaching up under your shirt to fondle your breasts as you let out a low moan. The hand around his length speeds up as he lets out low grunts and groans, eyes trailing down your body to where your hand was working your own arousal.
“What were you thinking about Mesh’la?” he asks bringing his eyes back up to yours.
“You” you answer simply as you speed up the tight circles on your clit, throwing your head back and letting out another moan.
“I know that princess, I want you to be more specific, what about me?” he stands up off the bunk and walks towards you, still pumping himself as he approaches you.
“Your mouth… and Ah- your cock” you move the hand down from beneath your shirt and bring one finger to your opening before slipping inside your slick walls.
“Kark doll, what about them?” he’s so close to you now, you can see the precum beginning to leak out of the tip of his hard length, hear his stuttering breaths as he watches you.
“I was thinking about you… eating me out… before bending me over and fucking me… making me scream your name” you close your eyes and before you can continue a loud moan erupts from your chest as Crosshair moves your hands away from you, gets to his knees and licks a long stripe up your entrance before circling your clit and letting out a low groan.
“You taste… so sweet Mesh’la…” he mumbles against your heat as he wraps his lips around your sensitive nub and sucks. You threat your fingers through his short hair and pull him closer to you as he continues lapping at your slick entrance. You had already worked yourself up so much that it doesn’t take long for the clone’s talented tongue to rip a powerful orgasm from your body. He doesn’t let up, his mouth working you through your peak until you have to pull him away from your oversensitive body.
“On the bed doll” he grunts as he removes the bottom half of his blacks. You get on all fours as he slides into the bunk behind you, ducking his head so he doesn’t smack it on the bunk above yours. He stays behind you for a moment, simply admiring the mess he had made of you, your slick glistening in the light of the Marauder.
He grabs your hip with one hand, and uses the other to line himself up with your entrance. He rubs his length along your folds a few times before slowly inching himself inside you, letting out a sinful groan at the feeling of your tight heat engulfing him. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust before he starts quickly thrusting into you, settling both of his hands on your hips in a bruising grip.
“Kriff Mesh’la you’re so karking tight- I’m not gonna last long” he pants out at you, the bunk beneath you creaking slightly at his furious pace. You’re reduced to a whimpering mess beneath him, head falling onto your pillow as you moan and whine. This was better than you could have possibly imagined, the head of his cock was reaching that spot inside you that made you cry out, the sounds muffled by your pillows.
He reaches a hand around to tease your already oversensitive clit. The friction on your bundle of nerves combined with the way his length was pounding in and out of you was enough to send you over the edge again your muscles spasming and clenching around him as an almost pornographic moan of his name was ripped from your lungs.
“W-where” he asks as his pace begins to faulter.
“Inside… its safe” he lets out a groan and thrust one, two, three more times before he releases inside of you, cock throbbing as he spurts ropes of hot cum inside your walls.
You’re both quiet for a moment, panting before he slowly pulls out of you, moving to sit on the edge of your bed. You can feel his spend leaking down your thighs as he does before your tired limbs give out and you lay flat on your bunk. He chuckles, placing a toothpick in his mouth.
“Well, I just came back to have a shower before the others came back and used all the hot water… wanna join?” he looks over at you, eyebrow raised.
“Sure” you give him a tired smile, watching as he begins to shed the top half of his armour as he walks towards the refresher.
@where-is-my-mind-tho
@starborncyare
#crosshair x reader#crosshair smut#crosshair#crosshair x reader smut#tbb crosshair#tbb crosshair smut#tbb x reader#tbb x reader smut#tbb smut#the bad batch smut#the bad batch x reader#the bad batch x reader smut#bad batch crosshair#the bad batch crosshair#bad batch smut#crosshair tbb#crosshair x you#crosshair fanart#crosshair fic
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HERE IT IS 🙌🏻 THE MOMENT LONG AWAITED
Cyare Verd
*OC Raven x Hunter
A/N: Welcome back! I apologize for taking so long but ☝🏼 I edited my original story up to the fourth chapter only to decide I still didn’t like it so guess what I edited the same four chapters again 😅
I’ll start by saying, yes it still follows the season two storyline of The Bad Batch (unoriginal I know) but I did change it up quite a bit. If your looking for Omega (lol) shes gone 👋🏼 I was never a huge fan of her so I wrote her out 🫣 otherwise, I hope you enjoy the new version of my fic. I will be taking it off Wattpad and AO3 in the meantime so I can finish making edits.
Oh, one last thing. If you would like to be tagged please drop a comment or send me a message ☺️ Thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking time out of your day to read this. It means the world to me.
Anyways. Without further ado 🤲🏻 I present to you my updated fic 💖
Prologue/Background
Raven (If you see this. It’s the Pov for the following)
Before order 66 went down, I spent my time on Kamino training new batches of clones for the Grand Army of the Republic. I met many of the troopers who lived there during the time including Sargent Hunter of the infamous Clone Force 99. Our interactions were usually quite brief but there was a certain charm about him I enjoyed from our very first encounter. However, I was there to perform my duty to my clan and that always came first.
It was an honor to continue the legacy my father - Kal Skirata - left behind. He and my brothers - the Null ARC’s - have been off trying to thwart a plot they didn’t realize would lead to order 66.
During that time, Kal’Buir had asked that I stay on Kamino not only for intel but also to get out any defecting troopers.
A friend of mine, who is another Mandalorian by the name of Aspen, posed as a supply ship for myself. She would drop off supplies or bring me an array of random items I asked for to validate her being there. Aspen would then smuggle troopers to Mandalore where they were to live out their days as they wished. A part of our clan. Clan Skirata.
When order 66 did finally happen, my brother Ordo had warned me to prepare for something big that would be happening soon. Whether or not he knew exactly what I’ll never know.
For the first few days, I lingered on Kamino waiting for any one of my brothers or Kal’Buir to contact me but it didn’t come. About a week later a droid appeared in my quarters with a message. ‘Get out now. You’re in danger Sen’ika (little bird).’ Kal’Buir was the only one who ever called me Sen’ika - mostly because I hated it but he could get away with anything.
Shortly thereafter, I packed my things discreetly and called for Aspen. She came within a rotation claiming the usual - that she was here to deliver supplies for me - and to my surprise they let her in.
The minute I was on her ship, the two of us left. We ended up on the planet in the mid rim. Where Ord Mantell became our temporary home.
Chapter One: Cid’s Parlor
Raven
Standing out in the busy streets of Ord Mantell, the sun beats down on my beskar fighting the darkness that rests on my shoulders. I will my feet to move it’s as if this weight is too much for them to carry.
My irritation radiates off me as the thunderous pitter patter pounds in my head each time a citizen passes by - must be nice to live so carefree - I think to myself. Yet they pay me no mind, even though the very nature of my armor is intimidating.
The dull black shein of a well-worn helmet that sits upon my head, with the infamous T shaped visor. The rest of the plates are the same color with a few iridescent feathers poking out from underneath. Ironic right.
This armor is my pride and joy. It was a coming of age gift - if that's what you want to call it - from my father. Kal’Buir was by far one of the greatest Mandalorians in the history of our people - though my opinion might be biased.
A wave of sadness washes over me at the thought of him, my family, my brothers, and my best friend Aspen. Shaking the thoughts from my mind I tell myself they wouldn’t want me to sulk. Aspen would smack me if she were here. Unfortunately, the two of us had to go our separate ways after getting into some trouble. What else is new?
Aspen has always been the friend I can count on for anything. We met as kids on Mandalore and practically grew up together. Once we were old enough, the two of us would drink - a little too much - and run our mouths. Sometimes I’d come home with a black eye and Kal’Buir would say ‘I hope the other guy looks worse’. With a osik (shit) eating grin he knew I could handle myself.
Eventually that trouble caught up to us. When I had been on Ord Mantell before, she and I got into it with a group of merc’s and Cid saved our skin. Usually I didn’t pick fights we couldn’t win but that time I did.
That was just after our home was bombed by the Empire. My family. My clan was there as far as I know. Rumor has it the surface is no longer safe. The blast destroyed everything and killed everyone. Grief does funny things to people.
Since then Cid feels we owe her every time she calls. Aspen was smart enough to ignore her but I can’t leave business unfinished. I don’t like owing people anything.
Bitterness courses through my veins and I find my feet moving through the doorway.
Hunter
Cid's Parlor is loud and crowded - as usual. Which for enhanced senses is why I prefer the solitude of the ship. Let’s not even get into the stench of hot bodies and alcohol might put me over the edge.
I take a deep breath to steady myself and push out the overwhelming sounds and smells, in an attempt to tune back into my brother's conversation. Echo and I were discussing whether or not the Marauder needs maintenance. Which is true it does. However, we don’t have the credits.
One glance over at Wrecker and its obvious Tech is beating him - again - at dejarik.
With a sigh and a gentle swirl of the pint in my hand, I watch as the amber liquid spins like a world pool. The sickly-sweet smell of blood orange and yeast reaches my nose. I let myself get lost in it for a moment, the scent totally washing over me.
The weight of the things we have had to endure begins creeping in. My men. Their safety and well-being are my responsibility. Crosshair.
Before I’m sucked too far into the void, my senses pick up something that wasn’t there a moment ago. Dark, sweet raspberry, rose. I’d recognize that scent anywhere after the hours I’d spent committing it to memory.
Lifting my gaze from my glass, it’s pulled like a force of gravity as a Mandalorian female enters the parlor. A warmth washes over me mixed with a little relief at seeing that all too familiar T-visor. I can’t contain the shock that creeps on my face at her presence or the memory—
‘Alright everyone, today we go over the basics.’ Her voice is crisp but not cold, giving orders and yet…silky smooth. I could listen to her speak to the regs all day.
She continues barking out orders which I recognize as the basics for hand-to-hand combat. I stop listening about half way through just to commit her to memory.
Covered head to toe in dark black beskar, her visor drifts over the group of men before her. The small frame is quite a contrast to the 6ft Clone troopers in formation. She has such a commanding presence, exuding confidence. My eyes roam over her curves and stop at the dual westar -35’s attached to either side of her thighs. For a moment I swear my heart might leap out of my chest—
Raven Skirata.
My trousers suddenly become constricting forcing me to shift uncomfortably. We only ever ran into one another a few times on Kamino. Mostly casual conversation about war efforts. The sound of her laugh when I told her about some of the things we’d improvised on missions, is one my brain never lets me forget. I never did get the courage to ask her about herself.
Raven crosses over to the bar and my eyes follow her every move. It’s only now that I notice she’s skinnier than I remember. Her complexion is quite pale in comparison to the dark circles under her eyes. The sight causes my chest to tighten. What the hell happened?
"Long time no see. I was starting to think you wised up" the Twi-lek bartender says by way of greeting. There's a long pause as the Raven drops her shoulders considerably.
"Unfortunately, I'm a little low on rations to be wise" she shoots back, that silky smooth voice taking on a sarcastic tone.
Having caught the attention of a rather large man - whose been talking loud enough for everyone in here to hear - he leans over to speak to her.
"Wow, that must be real beskar.......Wonder what kind of price someone would pay for th-that...." He slurs a little at the end.
In one smooth motion, Raven ejects her vibro-blade from her vambrace - the steel practically sings - slamming his head into the bar top with the other hand. A loud thud follows. Some of the patrons stop talking to stare while the Twi-lek laughs.
Pressing her blade to his throat she leans in close she sneers, "Try to take it from me and I'll find out how much someone will pay for your head.”
The man proceeds to mumble and she cocks her head at the bar tender as if in annoyance. Letting go of the man he slumps to his knees before getting up and stumbling away, hand pressed to his temple.
I have to work had to suppress the smile that threatens to creep onto my face, the corner of my mouth twitches anyways.
"Don't mess with Mandalorians" Echo chuckles, drawing attention. Raven glances our way tensing. Mentally I command myself to look away but I can’t. For a moment I swear, even through her visor we make eye contact.
Raven
After I’m satisfied I’ve put this man in his place, I let go and he slumps to the floor. Comments fly from over my shoulder but there’s that voice I’ve heard thousands of times that stands out.
I can’t help but turn and that when I see them. The red and white plastoid. Thanking my ancestors for the helmet, I roll my eyes at just how ironic it is they are here. Sargent Hunter and the Bad Batch. He and I have spoken a few times on Kamino but the others I’ve never officially met.
Frozen in place, I stare for a second. The Sargent doesn’t take his eyes off me with an unreadable expression. If I’m lucky he won’t recognize me - I think to myself. Forcing myself to move, I turn back to the bartender with a finger in the air, signaling I’d like a shot.
My gloved hands make their way to my helmet and gently slide it off, letting my messy blonde braid at the back of my head fall. Lately I find myself caring less and less about what I look like.
Placing my helmet on the bar top, I take a breath to steady myself before taking the shot. The burning liquid a welcomed punishment if nothing else.
The bartender nods over my shoulder and I sign knowing what's coming.
"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes" Cid says, throwing an arm over me like we are old pals.
I roll my hazel eyes "I'm not here because I want to be. Lets get on with it" I grumble.
"No 'Hi Cid, how are you?'" She asks.
"Nar'sheb (shove it)" I say in my native tongue with a polite smile on my face. She has no idea what I said to her but there's a snicker from someone close by.
————
"Remember what happened last time you threw your attitude around like that? " Cid scolds me as we enter her office.
Picking dust off my flight suit I sass, "I'm not here to discuss my 'attitude'. What's the mission?"
Cid moves behind her desk and crosses her arms "Fine, I need you to help out a group of fine gentlemen." She starts to explain, her tone a little too...chipper.
I raise a brow, shifting my weight and hum my dissatisfaction.
Cid immediately gets defensive, “Look it’s not my fault you mandos like to find trouble. You’re just lucky I was there to bail you out. Besides, these guys could really use someone with your skills. Dooku's private stash is being relocated by the Empire and I want you to help them get as much as possible".
The fact that she said Empire had my attention and attitude immediately shifts.
"I thought you might like that and I promise I'll give you 20%" she continues noticing my mood lighten.
"30 and it's a deal" I counter.
"Hey! I gotta pay those other guys too. I feel I'm being quite generous.”
I guess for considering who I’m speaking with… "Fine 20%, Now who are these guys?"
"They call themselves the Bad Batch. Wait here I'll go get them" she doesn’t give me a chance to respond before she heads out the door.
For a moment I stay where she left me and contemplate my next move. I can either play it like I don’t know them and take the chance their Sargent will recognize me or…
With an annoyed sigh, I stride over to her desk and set my helmet down before scanning the book shelves. Most of these I’ve read during my ‘spare time’ when Cid let me crash here before. Not surprisingly, there’s nothing new.
Leaning my back against one I take my gloves off and unbraid my hair. The blonde waves fall loosely over one shoulder ending just below my breast. It’s a wonder I ever let it get this long but a part of me just can’t bring myself to cut it.
I make myself comfortable at her desk, leaning back and kicking my boots up on it, When Cid flings the door open and scowls at me. My stomach ties itself into knots but I try to seem disinterested by playing with my hair.
There’s a chance these guys decided like the others to side with the Empire. But the odds they did and they are here? Slim but not zero.
Pushing off the desk I stand and stroll around to the front, leaning against it. A few golden strands fall into my face with the movement. My hands naturally side down towards my blasters holstered at my sides. A defense position that’s become muscle memory. The Sargent eyes follow my every move.
"Take it easy there Mando these are the good guys."
Cid rolls her eyes after seeing my body language. Once again in typical Cid fashion she hid this from me, likely knowing I wouldn’t come.
The largest one of the 4 pushes past.
"I'm Wrecker! I like to blow stuff up!" He says very loudly, sticking out his hand. My body is further tensing.
I hesitantly shake his hand, which compared to mine - even with gloves on - looks like it could easily crush it.
"Wrecker, I feel that last part was not necessary" says the one holding a datapad.
"I am Tech by the way.”
Nodding by way of greeting, I quickly glance over at their Sargent. Had I blinked I would have missed the split second of recognition before the mask of a leader slid into place.
The one with a socket arm glances over at him. Probably from the tension radiating off of me. Those amber eyes see me for exactly who I am.
My breathing picks up, but I quickly get it back under control. The former doesn’t seem to notice, not taking his eyes off me.
I decide to meet his gaze with a challenging one. Hoping to hide whatever it is he sees.
Shaking his head like he’s having a difficult time dragging himself from thought, introduces himself.
“I'm their Sargent-well was their Sargent...Hunter and this is Echo" he gestures to socket arm.
Echo waves at me with his socket and a soft smile. I nod slowly and clear my throat.
“I know who you are.”
Tech lifts his eyes from his datapad to look at me once again. Before he or anyone else can I say anything I continue,
“Raven. Raven Skirata.”
————
When I start towards my ship - alright so it's not really my ship, I stole it - I was so deep in thought I almost didn’t hear someone call out to me.
"Wouldn't it just be easier if we all went together?"
I stop not bothering to turn around "How do I know you won't leave me behind?"
If these are the clones I’ve heard so much about, there’s a good chance I can trust them. However, my instincts are telling me not to. Echo, almost like he is reading my mind says,
"You can trust us, we aren't like the others".
The sorrow in his voice fills the space between us, making me uncomfortable. I roll my shoulders, hands flexing at my sides.
Without saying anything I head up the ramp to my ship, gather a few things in my pack, and come back out to see Echo standing where I left him. The rest of the group must have gone to their ship. With a small nod he leads the way.
As we approach, I stop for a moment before heading up the ramp to admire the hull before me. An Omicron class attack shuttle but it’s been modified. It’s just as impressive if not more so in person. My brothers - specifically Mereel and Jaing - would have loved this thing, I can practically hear them fighting with even Ordo for who would pilot.
With a few steps up the ramp, I peer inside and it’s notably clean. Briefly I take in the surroundings noting the others up front in the cockpit area. Echo glances back at me sensing my hesitation.
“I’ll show you around”
I tip my visor towards him appreciatively, without saying a word.
————
Echo finishes the tour with the bunks, two on the left and two on the right. He gestures to the right, showing me which one is mine and offers me a gentle smile. With a quick glance I realize there are only 4 of them.
“Hunter usually stays up in the cockpit. You get his bunk.”
Great.
I nod my appreciation again and take my pack off my shoulder. The only things in it are a couple changes of regular clothes and some rations. I've not got much to lose that isn't my beskar these days.
Placing my pack on the lower bunk, the mythosaur skull on the back of my gloves stare back at me with hollow eyes. It’s almost like they know. Our people are gone. For a moment I wonder if anyone will even remember what it means.
I forgot Echo was still standing there until his throat clears. He says carefully, “Your father is Kal Skirata.”
My heart starts to thunder in my chest at the mention of his name. I finish settling my pack before I turn to face him. A part of me wants to answer but it feels like my mouth is full of cotton. I mentally thank my ancestors for the visor between us.
“He was one of my instructors. In my early days I mean. He was always really good to us. I heard about what he did...he got some of us out.”
Silence fills the space. I slide my helmet off, tucking it under an arm. Unable to look him in the eye, my boots seemingly interesting all the sudden.
“He’s gone.” My voice almost doesn’t sound like my own. Distant.
“Too many good people have been lost because of the war. I’m sorry to hear that.”
In his kind words, the galaxy feels a little less lonely. I finally lift my head and meet his gaze, seeing the loss there.
“I’m sorry for your loss too.”
Echo only offers me a somber smile in response. My walls go back up and I decide to change the subject. It comes out a little sassier than I had intended.
“So, you all have enhanced something or other right? I mean I was on Kamino and spoke to your Sargent a few times but mostly what I know is what I’ve heard.”
”Each of us had a unique quality. Wrecker is brute strength, Hunter has enhanced senses, and Tech is really smart.”
”Wasn’t there another member? Crosshair?”
Another sad look from him, “He chose the Empire.”
“Ah” I nod my understanding. “How do you fit in here?”
He rubs the back of his neck and chuckles.
“I was originally with the 501st under General Skywalker. We were on Skako minor and I was blown up. Captured by the Techno union and they made me mostly a machine.” Echo lifts his socket arm as a reference.
“My Captain. Rex. He and the Bad Batch rescued me. I owe them everything.”
That name. Captain Rex. It sounds familiar. ”No offense but you just met me and you trust me enough to tell me all this?” My sass once more evident.
He smiles and says “Your father spoke highly of you.”
My throat closes up at the same time pride washes over me. When I don’t respond he continues.
“I’ll leave you to get settled in” and with that he turns and heads toward the cockpit.
I watch as he reaches the others and takes a seat. Unable to do anything else other than process what he just said.
————
It takes me a while to recover from the conversation. A part of me hesitates to comm Aspen but I can’t risk compromising her.
Instead, I take my time to check my weapons (two blasters at my hip, vibro blade in my vambrace, and the various blades stashed in my boots and under my back plate). No one bothers to check on me, which is just as well. Finally, I end with checking the HUD in my helmet - which seems to be functioning fine.
Discarding my helmet on the bunk, I head for the cockpit where the others are chatting quietly. The hushed tones likely to prevent me from overhearing. Hunter stiffens as I approach which only confirms my thought.
The four seats at the front were taken up by each of the members. Leaning against the doorway I cross my arms over my chest plate.
"We don't have a reason to trust each other but once this mission is over and I'm paid, I'm gone. You won't have to worry after that.” The annoyance plastered on my face is visible to all.
They all glance at one another except Hunter, his eyes fixed on my face like he’s trying not to look anywhere else. He almost looks hurt at my comment.
"That seems reasonable" Tech says very matter of factly.
”Great. So, what's the plan?”
“Get to Serenno and scout the area." Hunter says turning his attention to space zooming by at light speed.
I sigh, "That's not much of a plan but I can improvise."
Wrecker chimes in, ”Ahaha you’ll fit right in!” Awkward silence fills the space before I break it.
“Right. Well I guess we should all rest up so let me know when we land.” Spinning on a heel, I head for the bunks.
Next Chapter here.
Wattpad link here.
Taglist: @cloneloverrrrr @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @idoubleswearimawriter @savebytheodore @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @jediknightjana @techs-goggles9902 @clonethirstingisreal
Lemme know if you wanna be tagged in the future!
#the clones#star wars clone wars#the bad batch#tbb hunter#hunter the bad batch#the bad batch tech#mandalorian oc#tbb hunter x you#tbb hunter x reader#the bad batch hunter#bad batch hunter#hunter#hunter bad batch#hunter x reader#clone trooper hunter#Sargent hunter#clone force 99#starwars the bad batch
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Promises in the Kitchen | Kit Tanthalos x maid fem!reader
Pairings: Kit x reader (romantic), Sorsha x Kit (family), Airk x Kit (family), Sorsha x reader (platonic), Airk x reader (platonic), Elora x Kit (family), Elora x reader (platonic)
Type of fic: Fluff
Warnings: None
Summary: Kit keeps her relationship with you hidden and her mother won’t let her on as she arranged Kit’s marriage, but when an accident happens it changes
Ps: Don’t tell me that this is not how she’d act - I know I just need this comfort
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The castle was still dark when you rose, the air brisk in the early morning light. Being one of the castle’s maids, you were used to these early starts. You often spent your mornings preparing breakfast, cleaning, or serving food. Today, you had decided to make something special—a batch of brownies. They weren’t commonly seen in Tir Asleen, but you thought it might be a pleasant surprise for everyone at breakfast, especially Kit.
You and Kit had been dating for some time now. It wasn’t exactly a secret, but it wasn’t something either of you could be open about. Kit wanted to show you off, to tell everyone that you were hers, but you both knew it could jeopardize your job. So you kept it quiet, sharing stolen moments in secret, hidden from most eyes. But the other maids had caught on, and they chose to keep your secret, aware of how much happiness you and Kit brought each other.
The brownies were finally ready, and you set them on a tray, arranging them neatly before taking them to the dining hall. As you entered, you couldn’t help but overhear Kit arguing with her mother, Queen Sorsha. Your heart sank as you caught the tail end of their conversation—something about an arranged marriage. It wasn’t the first time you’d heard it, and it never failed to ruin your day. The idea of Kit being married off to some prince made your heart ache. The thought of losing her was unbearable.
You approached the table, placing the tray of brownies down carefully, trying to remain invisible as the argument continued. You were just about to turn and head back to the kitchen when Kit, in her frustration, stood up abruptly. Her arm swung out, and she accidentally smashed the tray, sending the brownies and a few other items flying.
For a moment, the room went silent. Kit looked at you, her expression softening as her eyes met yours. She saw the tiredness, the hurt from the arranged marriage that you tried to hide, and her heart clenched. She hadn’t meant for this to happen, hadn’t wanted to make things worse for you. You gave her a small, weary smile before turning away, walking back to the kitchen as a few other maids hurried over to clean up the mess.
Kit watched you leave, her gaze lingering on your retreating figure longer than it should have. Across the table, Airk raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile forming on his lips. It seemed that he had finally figured it out—his sister was in love with the maid.
Later that day, once she was finished with her errands and had been dismissed from her duties, Kit made her way to the kitchen. She found you there, your hands busy kneading dough for the next meal. The moment she saw you, her usual tough demeanor softened, guilt washing over her as she approached. She wrapped her arms around you from behind, burying her face in your shoulder as she kissed it gently.
“Please don’t ignore me,” Kit murmured, her voice filled with regret. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I’m sorry.”
You paused for a moment, letting out a sigh as you continued working. Kit tightened her hold on you, her voice pleading. “Look at me.”
It took two convincing pleas before you finally turned to face her, your eyes meeting hers. Kit could see the exhaustion in your gaze, the worry that had been eating away at you for days. You had always been the one to teach Kit to talk about things, to not let them fester, and now was no different. She needed to fix this.
“I’m sorry about the brownies, truly,” Kit said softly. “And about the argument with my mother. I know it upsets you.”
You nodded, your eyes softening. “It’s just… hard. I know you don’t want to marry anyone else, but hearing it over and over again, it makes me feel like I’m losing you.”
Kit cupped your jaw gently, her thumb brushing against your cheek. “You’re not losing me. I promise. I’ll do anything to prevent that marriage.”
She leaned in, kissing you softly, her lips lingering on yours as she smiled against your mouth. Just then, Queen Sorsha walked past the kitchen, her eyes widening slightly as she saw the two of you. Kit’s hand was on your jaw, and her lips were pressed to yours. Sorsha quickly walked away, not wanting to be seen. Now, she knew for certain why her daughter was so persistent and protective of a certain maid.
At dinner that evening, Kit decided to bring up the topic. She looked at her mother, her expression determined. “I’m not marrying the prince, no matter what.”
To Kit’s surprise, Sorsha simply nodded, her tone nonchalant. “I’ve already broken off the deal with the other kingdom.”
Kit’s mouth fell open in shock, and across the table, Airk choked on his drink, his eyes wide. Kit didn’t press the issue further, not wanting to risk changing her mother’s mind. But inside, she was elated.
After dinner, Kit went to her room, changing into more comfortable clothes. She quickly made her way to the kitchen, her heart pounding with excitement. She spotted you there, busy with your work, and without a word, she grabbed you by the hand and spun you around to face her. Before you could say anything, Kit kissed you, her lips crashing against yours as she grinned like an idiot.
You pulled back, your eyes wide as you looked at her. “What’s gotten into you?” you asked, your heart pounding.
Kit’s grin widened. “My mom called off the arranged marriage.”
Your eyes went wide, and then a smile spread across your face as happiness washed over you. “Really?”
“Really,” Kit said, her voice filled with joy.
You laughed softly, wrapping your arms around her as Kit pulled you close.
Kit cupped your face, her eyes filled with love as she looked at you. “I’m going to marry you one day,” she promised.
You chuckled, a playful glint in your eyes. “That sounds like a threat.”
Kit laughed, leaning in to kiss you again, her hands resting on your waist as your fingers tangled in her hair. The rest of the maids in the kitchen pretended not to see, used to the two of you stealing moments like this. They didn’t mind—they knew how much you both meant to each other.
When you finally pulled away, you turned back to your work, your eyes widening in dismay as you saw the mess that had been made when Kit had spun you around. The preparations for tomorrow morning’s breakfast were ruined, torn and scattered across the counter.
You sighed, knowing that you’d be here well past midnight trying to fix it. Kit noticed, her eyes softening as she hugged you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder.
“Go to bed, Kit,” you said gently. “It’s late. I’ll be done soon, I promise.”
But Kit knew you were lying. She could see how much work still needed to be done, and she wasn’t about to leave you to do it alone. She let go of you, grabbing a rolling pin as she moved to help. You watched her, amused as she tried to figure out what to do, her movements awkward and unsure.
She ended up making things worse, spilling flour all over the counter and herself. You couldn’t help but laugh, reaching out to wipe a smudge of flour from her face. Kit looked at you, her eyes softening as you took her hands, guiding her gently as you showed her what to do.
With your help, Kit quickly picked up the skills, and you couldn’t help but feel proud. She was a fast learner, her determination shining through as she worked beside you.
Later on, as the hours passed and exhaustion set in, you found yourself leaning against Kit, your eyes drooping. Kit noticed, her heart softening as she looked at you. Before you could protest, she scooped you up in her arms, carrying you bridal style as she made her way to your room.
You were too tired to argue, resting your head against her shoulder as she carried you. Kit laid you down gently on your bed, brushing a strand of hair from your face before kissing your forehead.
She returned to the kitchen, ready to finish what was left, but when she got there, she saw Elora. The young sorceress smiled at her, a knowing look in her eyes. “Go back to her,” Elora said softly. “I’ll finish this.”
Kit hesitated for a moment before nodding, gratitude in her eyes. She made her way back to your room, slipping under the covers beside you. You instinctively curled into her, your head resting on her chest as Kit wrapped her arms around you, holding you close.
And as she lay there, the warmth of your body against hers, Kit couldn’t help but smile. You were hers, and she was yours, and nothing would ever change that.
#imagine#willow kit#kit tanthalos#kit tanthalos x reader#kit tanthalos x you#willow series#kit x you#kit x reader
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