#i may have gotten a second comm

[gunslingerorchid]

To post or not to post the spicy art, that is the question.

[aphelionwrotes11]

Safe house - part 1

MDNI 18+

Simon Riley x reader

Cw: violence, reader is apart of 141 so power imbalance (sorta), a little dubcon (I think??), pining, fluff

You and your lieutenant have to spend some time together in a safe house after a mission goes south, what could possibly go wrong? … (lol)

Everything that could’ve possibly gone wrong, went wrong. It was supposed to be a simple mission, in and out. Your orders were to go undercover with your lieutenant, Simon, gather info on a possible target, and leave. Where was this mission to be conducted? A small gala only the elite would be attending.

And so, as you and Simon had gotten ready in a nearby hotel room, you got word from your informant that there may be some extra security at the gala, more than they had thought. You were both told to just keep a low profile. Everything will be fine.

Maybe you should’ve taken that last minute info as a sign to call it, or maybe it was the way your brain turned to near mush as soon as Simon had told you that you looked beautiful.

After finishing your makeup and hair, you took a quick glance at yourself in the mirror of the shabby hotel room. Not too bad. The dress hugged your body in all the right places, and despite your minimal expertise in makeup and hair practices, the YouTube video you watched had been thorough and easy to follow so you could at least pass for professional grade beauty.

When you exited the hotel room, Simon was already outside dressed sharply in a black tux. His blonde hair was dyed brown with a temporary hair dye, and just earlier you had applied a bit of concealer to the smaller scars along his jaw. (As well as you could with your shaking hands.)

“Y’ready?” He asked, glancing at your figure.

“Yes sir.” You replied.

“Don’ call me tha, tonight we’re married luv.” He said, looking unamused.

“Right.. sorry.” You had said, thankful the makeup covered your skin, otherwise he would’ve seen your cheeks flush red.

And as if what he had said wasn’t bad enough, he took another moment to glance up and down at your figure and nod. “Y’look beautiful.” He said, so simply, and yet you felt your brain melt and pour right out of your ears.

“You too.” You said without thinking, and he chuckled.

He turned away just fast enough that you wouldn’t see the twinge of pink on his cheeks.)

As soon as you pulled up to the front of a gorgeous looking manor, you knew there would be trouble. Not only was there double the security you had originally been told, but double the amount of guests. And now, with so many unaccounted and unknown people who were apart of the game, you couldn’t help the terrible unease.

Getting through the security at the front door was a hassle. For a moment you were a bit scared they had rearranged the guest list amidst the efforts of adding the newcomers and somehow, someway, noticed two guests who would be attending that they had never heard of.

But fortunately, you both made it inside.

For a bit, things went smoothly despite the issues. You were able to spot the potential target, surrounded by a group of other elites. Simon had gone a different way to find your guy, but due to the unfortunate circumstances of not having comms (thank you metal detectors!) you werent able to tell him where the target was.

So, you were in your own. And that would’ve been totally fine, really. But as soon as you were able to reach the potential target, gunfire rang out through the manor.

Guests scattered after that, you lost the target, security began attempting to herd people into rooms and through doors, and you couldn’t find Simon.

You searched through the crowd and shots continued to be fired somewhere nearby. When you couldn’t find him with the others, you knew that he was probably the one in whatever gun fight was going on in the next room over.

But you weren’t able to find out, because Simon came round a corner not even seconds later, grabbing your arm and running the two of you out of there. You had more pursuers that you could count, they followed you even after the two of you had gotten into the nearest car and sped off. It took a while, but eventually you lost them somewhere on a twisting road.

Simon contacted your captain and was told to take the both of you to a nearby safe house and wait for backup. Earliest they could arrive would be in two days.

“What the hell was that?!” You asked as Simon followed the directions to the safe house from the gps.

“Guess tha extra security was a las’ minute hire. Couple’a Russians recognized me from god knows where.” He replied casually.

Russians? Great. So now the two of you will be huddled up in a safe house for two days, hiding from Russians with a grudge.

Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalal

“M’takin the shower first. Need’ta get this shit outta my hair.” He said as soon as the two of you arrived.

The house wasn’t anything special, just a one story one bed one bath. The kitchen was nearly empty, aside from two cans of soup and some frozen waffles.

Waffles and soup are a pretty odd combo. But after this night, you really didn’t care what food you had, all you knew was that you were starving.

It didn’t take long for the gourmet dinner to be finished. When the waffles popped out of the toaster you shuffle through the cabinets in an attempt to find the plates.

Of course, they are on the top shelf of the upmost cabinet. If Simon were out here, he could easily grab it but it would seem he’s taking his sweet time in the shower. You pray he doesn’t use all of the hot water.

In your foolish attempt to balance yourself on the counter and grab both plates, one slips from your grasp and shatters on the kitchen floor.

“Shit.” You whisper, jumping from the counter with a small thud.

Within seconds you hear clambering footsteps racing down the hall and Simon appears. Naked. Dripping wet. And hard.

Simon is glancing around frantically, gun in hand, he looks from your stunned form to the plate on the ground and lets his gun fall to his side with a sigh.

He looks pissed.

Brows forrowed, mouth set in a straight line, face bright red from his ears to his nose. He’s glaring right at you and so is his cock.

You struggle to look at anything other than him as you open and close your mouth.

You meet his eyes for a moment, “I-I dropped the plate. I-I’m sorry-“ you start.

N’his cock twitches.

Without another word he turns and stalks off, leaving you wide eyed and mouth gaping.

The rest of the night is conducted in absolute silence. From dinner to bed. You struggle to figure out the sleeping arrangements with the awkward silence.

So, instead you opt to just take a late night shower and allow him to choose the bed or the couch. When you exit the shower the bed is empty, so you assume he went to sleep on the couch.

Within a couple hours you awake to the creak of the mattress beside you. As you attempt to silently swivel around you are met with the back of your lieutenant, who is now nestled comfortably in a queen sized bed beside you.

Sleep doesn’t come easy that night.

Note: hey guys!!! As per usual this is unedited so plesss forgive any mistakes on grammar or spelling. I’m just So happy I finally wrote something that I like (it’s been a struggle) the part 2 for this is already in progress, yes it will be spicy. Anyways, hope you enjoyed.

Xoxo

[oswildin]

Oneshot request:)

Can you maybe do one where the reader is struggling with anxiety during a mission or something, and Loki comforts them throughout? Just a little fluff:)

Hi! Thank you for the request! Hope this is okay! I drew from my own experiences with anxiety, so it may not be the same for everyone (well, obviously it isn’t but you know what I mean!). 💚

Small Victories (Loki x GN!Reader)

Summary: Loki helps you get through your anxiety during a mission. (Avenger!Loki, subtle fluff, friends to lovers vibe)

Today was an off today. It had started like any other, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t wake up exactly the same as the day before. You would get days like this, days where things just felt… too much. You couldn’t explain why, or exactly how, but they just did. Your mind felt like it was racing, your heart beating a little faster, sounds made you startle easier and that dread that seemed to linger in your bones only grew more pronounced as the day went on. You wanted to hide away, let it pass… But unfortunately, life as an Avenger had other plans.

Currently, you were moving down the halls of an old Hydra base, having got information that a new terrorist group had gotten access to it, intending to find information, or even better plans for weapons, that had been left behind. The base had only recently been discovered with this groups movements, who had been on Stark’s radar for the last few days. But today was really not the day for a mission…

With every step you took, you could feel that needling dread, that doubt that creeped into your mind - doubt of your abilities, the weight of your responsibilities…

Focus. You had to focus.

“Do you copy, Agent?” Loki’s voice suddenly came through your earpiece, and you realised you had completely missed something he had said. You take a quiet breath, lifting your hand to activate comms on your earpiece.

“Sorry, what did you say?” You asked, eyes scanning the area, keeping - or trying to - your wits about you. Truthfully, Loki had noticed you earlier in the day, and on the journey to the base. You had seemed distant, a little out of sorts. And annoyingly for him, he found himself… concerned of sorts. Unfortunately, you had managed to worm your way into the heart of the God of Mischief, much to his dismay and joy. It was quite the contradiction, but he was Loki after all, so that wasn’t so surprising.

“I said, I’m making my way to you.” Loki repeated the statement he had made a minute ago.

“Okay.” You murmured, hearing a noise behind you down the hall. Whipping around, you saw movement, and for a moment you thought maybe it was Loki, but you quickly realised it wasn’t. It was the enemy. You felt your heart stutter for a second before quickly reaching for your gun, firing a warning shot towards the figure as you sidestepped towards one of the old labs in the hall, hearing the enemy fire a shot in return. The sound made you startle, your nerves beginning to fray due to your anxiety. “Damn it-“ You hissed, mentally chiding yourself.

However, just as you reached the door, a wave of familiar green seidr flickered down the corridor, immediately knocking the the figure at the end back, making them drop their weapon and hit the wall behind them, falling unconscious to the ground. You barely had time to register the two hands that landed on your shoulders, turning you round.

Loki gazed at you, brows furrowed as he took in the slighter wider look to your eyes, the way your breaths were quicker and a little shallow. “Agent, look at me.” He calmly commanded, lowering his head slightly to catch your gaze. “Focus on my voice.” He continued. “I need you to take a few deep breaths, and take a moment.” He nodded faintly, a subtle, silent encouragement.

You finally met his gaze, your eyes searching his as he exuded the firm calm you craved. His hands on your shoulders remained, keeping you grounded as you tried to do as he said. You took deep, slower breaths, trying to get your heart beat to follow suit.

“Good.” Loki murmured, his eyes flickering around to ensure there was no more danger. “Keep going.” His eyes then turned to the door you had planned on going through, deciding it was best to get out of the open. Removing one of his hands from your shoulders, he reached for the door, swiftly opening it before ushering you inside with his other hand shifting from your shoulder to your back. “That’s it, take a second.” He continued, giving you something to focus on.

Once inside the abandoned lab, out of immediate sight of any potential threats, he once again stood before you. He could see the way your hands had moved to clench into fists, quickly unclenching before tightening into balls again, over and over - repetitive self-soothing motion. He hated the way it tugged at his heart, something he had been very adamant about being fortified. Yet, in this moment, it was very clear it wasn’t quite as protected as he had portrayed it to be.

Without a second thought, his cool hands caught yours, holding them gently as his thumbs brushed over your knuckles in a similarly soothing way. “It’ll pass.” He said quietly, ensuring he held your gaze. “Trust me.” He added, lowly.

The sensation of his hands holding yours were a balm, his words an anchor amidst the storm in your mind. You continued to steady your breaths the best you could, before hearing Tony’s voice come through comms.

“Reindeer games, report?” That made you lose focus for a moment, making your breaths hitch as you lost your rhythm. Loki felt a flare of irritation at Tony’s interruption, even if it was unfounded, as he reached to remove your earpiece.

“Stay focused.” Loki reminded you, keeping the earpiece in his palm as his hand returned to yours, this time holding your fingers between his thumb and index finger gently whilst his other remained holding your hand completely. “Forget the mission, your current mission is to get past this, alright?”

After a minute or so, with Loki’s gentle encouragements and soothing gestures, you began to feel the anxiety that had been gripping out begin to ebb. Your breaths evened out, your heart slowing to its usual rhythm. The thoughts that had been swirling in your head quietened, focusing solely on the moment, on Loki. Loki released his own quiet breath of relief, unable to stop the small swell of pride and satisfaction he felt at being able to help you through the moment.

Wordlessly, you gave a small nod, silently telling him it had passed - for now. Loki gave a gentle squeeze to your hand, loosening his grip before his hand slid up your arm to rest on your bicep. “There.” He breathed out softly. “It’s passed.”

You felt a flicker of embarrassment at allowing yourself to get so overwhelmed on a mission, your job was to be focused and precise, and yet this episode had prevented you from doing that. The one thing you were there to do… Loki could sense the frustration within you, seeing it clearly in the way your brows twitched.

“We all have our moments.” He sighed quietly, tilting his head faintly as he regarded you, his thumb subconsciously brushing the fabric of your mission gear on your arm. “They always strike in the most unideal moments.” A pause. “But you got past it, and you didn’t let it consume you.” His blue eyes flickered over your features. “Small victories.”

His words helped ease some of your worries, and there was gratitude in your own eyes as you gazed at him. It was a look that made a flicker of warmth appear in Loki’s chest, that earlier pride returning. For a God that had previously often sought to bring chaos, it was… nice… to be doing the opposite for a change. Especially with someone who he held in high regard - even if he wouldn’t admit that aloud. Not quite yet, anyway.

“Thank you.” You finally spoke, voice low. Loki didn’t say anything, simply squeezing your arm one last time before letting his hand fall back to his side. He then held out his hand that held your earpiece, offering it back to you.

“Or I could send it to my pocket dimension and we simply tell Stark that it was lost?” He mused playfully, raising a brow, hoping to draw a small smile to your lips - which he managed to do. You shook your head faintly, reaching to take it from his palm.

“And hear him complain about how much they cost even though he’s a billionaire?” You murmured wryly in return. “No, thank you.” Loki felt his own lips tug into a smirk at your humour, giving an elegant nod.

“Very well.” He accepted, watching you place the small device back into your ear. “Shall we venture back out into the unknown?” He stepped back slightly, gesturing towards the door with a dramatic flair. “I’m told I’m a rather good partner.”

You huffed wryly at that, raising a brow. “By who?” You teased, moving towards the door.

“Myself.” Loki replied playfully, pleased to see you were slowly beginning to return to your usual self. He understood that the anxiety would likely linger, but he silently vowed he would be there to ensure it couldn’t consume you.

He wouldn’t allow it.

[cozzzynook]

Last part of TFA insecticon Bee because he deserves a happy ending :)

That night was peaceful, the stars shone brightly while the moon glowed blanking the forest in its gentle glow. Prowl stood nervously at the lake's edge watching as fish swam by un bothered by the sleek mech. Despite not getting a verbal answer from Bee eariler in the day the yellow mech did send him a comm ping saying he would be here, he hoped what ever was keeping Bumblebee busy wasn't too important. Softly humming Prowl sat down on the grass and closed his optics hoping a quick meditation would calm his nerves.

It had only been a few klicks when the sound of second pede steps were heard. Leaping to his own pedes Prowl scanned the tree line quickly spotting the familiar shade of yellow out from the dark shades of brown and green. Instead of a giddy smile or smirk on Bee's face there was a frown with a hint of guilt and fear in the mechs optics. Prowl's spark quickly tightened with worry as he took a couple steps forwards.

"Bumblebee, is everything alright?" He took a couple more steps closer until the fear in Bee's field forced him to stop.

"I-Prowl, I'm so sorry" Bumblebee shook his helm as he took deep vents not wanting to cry. "I should have told you weeks ago but I was afraid...I'm so, so sorry"

Prowl was stunned, he wasn't sure what had gotten Bee worked up or so afraid so he opened his field allowing comfort to fill the air as he took a step forwards. "Sorry about what? What's happened?"

Bumblebee blinked back tears as his whole frame vibrated with the wave of his emotions. Suddenly the yellow mech fell to knees as the guilt finally over came him. "The truth! About me about our sparkling!"

"What...?"

Despite the shock Prowl kneeled down grabbing a hold of Bee's servos with his own. While he wasn't sure what was going on it broke his spark to see Bumblebee like this. Giving a gentle squeeze he leaned down giving a soft nuzzle. "Just vent Bee, tell me what's wrong slowly"

Bumblebee sighed leaning into the gentle nuzzle with his own. "Its hard for me to put this into words. But I'm not the mech you know...not truly" Taking in another sharp vent he lifted his gaze looking up at Prowl. "The truth is...I'm a hybrid. My creators were a insecticon and a normal bot. I may never met them but they left their mark on my life and I never told any one because I was afraid, afraid you would all hate me and..." He'd shut his optics waiting for Prowl to yell at him, to call him a freak.

"And...?"

Bumblebee gave a soft whimper as he opened his optics slowly. "And you may have sired a sparkling..." He leaned back watching the shock slowly wash over Prowl's face.

"Are you certain, I mean 100% certain I'm the Sire?" This wasn't how planed this evening to go, he had planed to confess his feelings to Bumblebee but now he has learned about Bee's past and that he now has a sparkling.

"Yes, you're the only mech I saw during my cycle who else?" Bumblebee barely had time to speak again when he was suddenly pulled into a hug.

Prowl had never felt such joy or worry in his spark, not only did he now have a sparkling but he also had Bee to protect and care for. He wasn't going to leave their side, on Earth or Cybertron. "I'm sorry too, for making you feel like you couldn't tell me. Forgive me Bumblebee"

Tears fell from Bee's optics as he buried his face into the sleek mech's shoulder, softly weeping. "Yeah, okay...I forgive you"

-------

After that night things changed for the team both good and bad. While the surprise of both Bee's and Prowl's little surprise sparkling shocked everyone, the team couldn't have been more supportive. Optimus quickly took to the role of Grand carrier, despite the mech being barely a couple of cycles older than the pair themselves. The prime was often seen spoiling the little femme giving her treats or driving around the city in his Alt-Mode with the little one safely tucked away in his seats. Of course Ratchet gave one of his important lectures hoping the next time someone decided to have a sparkling it would be rather planed than a surprise. The bad part however, with Bee's and his daughter's insecticon heritage discovered meant the Auto Bot Guard was looking down harshly on them. Most bots who were once friendly with Bee quickly stopped talking to the yellow mech often looking at him with disgust or fear, Sentinel was one of the worst ones often making snide remarks under his vents as he walked past.

Despite their hardships they still had a few close friends on Cybertron, they often sent gifts or letters asking if they were okay and doing well. Bee had even received a rather funny letter from Kup posing in front of a rowdy group of bots who seemed to be in the middle of a party game considering the high grade glasses scattered everywhere. While he flicked through the letters next to him Prowl has drifted off into recharge with their daughter on his chest, Bumblebee couldn't be any happier even though he misses his friends on Cybertron but he knew as long as he had his team and family he couldn't be anywhere else in the galaxy.

^_^

(PS: I swore I put on Anon in the last post, whoops accidental name drop lol)

Sorry you name dropped if you want it deleted i will, no problem 🥰

I also love this story & the ending smiley 😊 thank you very much for sharing

[legendary-69420]

Languages of Attraction

Chapter 2

(Racing Hearts : VOLUME 3)

racing hearts

A/N : Google translate level Languages. I do not speak any of the languages mentioned here. Sorry If i wrote something wrong

(Context : Carlos is in Williams but came in Ferrari Garage to hang out with Charles)

The paddock was alive with the usual hum of pre-race energy. Teams scrambled around their cars, crew members adjusted final settings, and drivers mingled in groups, waiting for the day’s events to unfold. Mark, on the other hand, was seated on the edge of the Ferrari garage, casually scrolling through his phone, blissfully detached from the frenzy around him. He wasn’t entirely antisocial—just selective about when and with whom he chose to engage.

Across the way, Charles and Carlos were deep in conversation. They were speaking in French, a language they often used to discuss matters away from the scrutiny of others. Today’s topic seemed to be Mark—his performance, his confidence, and a little more than just the racing.

Charles (with a slight frown, speaking in French): “Il est bien pour un nouveau, mais parfois j’aimerais qu’il arrête de se comporter comme s’il avait déjà tout compris. Et il est tellement… comment dire, sûr de lui.” (“He’s good for a rookie, but sometimes I wish he’d stop acting like he already knows everything. And he’s so… how should I put it, confident.”)

Carlos (laughing): “Oui, il a cette confiance, c’est vrai. Mais je pense qu’il en a besoin, tu sais ? Ça lui permet de tenir tête à tout le monde.” (“Yeah, he does have that confidence, true. But I think he needs it, you know? It helps him stand his ground against everyone.”)

Charles (nodding, but with a hint of concern): “Je sais, je sais… Mais parfois, il pourrait être un peu plus… vulnérable. Ça pourrait nous aider à mieux le comprendre.” (“I know, I know… But sometimes, he could be a little more… vulnerable. It might help us understand him better.”)

Mark was half-listening, his focus mostly on his phone as he scrolled through social media updates. His mind wandered, and for a moment, he let the French words slip in through his peripheral awareness. Charles and Carlos were discussing him, but he didn’t mind—after all, they weren’t talking badly. He’d gotten used to this sort of chatter.

Then, as if it were some cosmic joke, the conversation took a turn that made Mark blink. He looked up and caught Charles’ eye.

Mark (in fluent French, speaking without hesitation): “Ragazzi, vi rendete conto che posso capirvi, vero?” (“You guys realize I can understand you, right?”)

Carlos froze mid-laugh, and Charles’ face immediately turned a shade of red that was impossible to ignore. Both of them stared at Mark as if he had just revealed a hidden talent for flying or something equally unexpected.

Carlos (chuckling awkwardly): “Wait, you understood all that?”

Mark (with a lazy shrug, smirking): “Yeah. I mean, I don’t usually make it a point to show off, but I'm pretty sure I already mentioned that I speak French, Italian, German, Spanish… and a bit of Russian now.”

Charles (flustered, trying to laugh it off): “I didn’t know you… could… you know… speak so many languages.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying their reaction.

Mark (teasing): “Should I be offended that you thought I didn’t understand you?”

Charles (grinning, though still embarrassed): “No, not at all… I just… well, you’ve never really used them, so I guess I forgot.”

The awkwardness hung in the air for a second before it dissolved into a comfortable silence. But Charles couldn’t shake the thought that had just bubbled to the surface—he’d been talking about Mark without ever realizing he was listening, and now Mark had caught him, completely off guard.

Later that day, during an interview session with the team, Mark was asked a few questions. The interviewer tried to steer him through the usual English responses, but when the subject shifted to Italian racing culture, Mark switched gears effortlessly, responding in his flawless Italian. The room fell into a stunned silence for a split second before the camera crew regained their bearings.

Mark (in Italian): “Penso che la passione che c'è qui in Ferrari è unica. Ogni gara è una sfida, ma è anche un’opportunità di crescere.” (“I think the passion here at Ferrari is unique. Every race is a challenge, but also an opportunity to grow.”)

Charles watched from the sidelines, an unexpected stir of admiration bubbling in his chest. He had always known Mark was talented behind the wheel, but hearing him speak with such ease in multiple languages—each one more charming than the last—had him captivated.

Charles (under his breath): “Damn… how does he do that?”

He couldn’t help but notice the way Mark’s accent changed effortlessly with each language, the smooth, natural flow of his words. It was as though Mark had lived in all these cultures, seamlessly blending into each one. His voice, deep and smooth, made everything sound even more magnetic. And when Mark smiled while speaking, Charles found it hard to focus on anything else.

Carlos (noticing Charles’ lingering gaze): “You okay there, mate?”

Charles (snapping back to reality, shaking his head): “Yeah… just… never thought I’d be so into… language lessons.”

---

The next time they were alone, Charles was too intrigued to let it slide.

Charles (grinning): “So, can you say something else for me? In French, or Italian, or… anything, really.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the attention.

Mark (smiling mischievously): “Why? Want to hear more of my ‘sexy’ voice?”

Charles tried to play it off, but there was a glint of excitement in his eyes. He leaned in a little closer, eyes locked on Mark.

Charles (in a teasing tone): “Maybe. It’s… pretty hard to resist.”

Mark (grinning): “Well, I could speak German… but you wouldn’t understand a word.”

Charles (laughing nervously): “Try me.”

Mark leaned back, thinking for a moment, before casually switching to German.

Mark (in German): “Ich habe keinen Grund, dir etwas zu sagen, wenn du es sowieso nicht verstehst.” (“I have no reason to tell you anything if you don’t understand it.”)

Charles chuckled, but there was a certain playfulness in his voice when he spoke again.

Charles: “I have no idea what you just said. But I like the way it sounded.”

Mark’s smirk only deepened, enjoying the attention—he couldn’t deny that he loved getting a rise out of Charles. But there was something else there, too. Something that hadn’t quite formed yet, but was undoubtedly there. The way Charles looked at him, the curiosity, the admiration—it wasn’t something Mark could easily ignore.

As the day wore on, Charles found himself replaying the conversations in his head. Mark had always been captivating—he knew that. But hearing him speak in multiple languages, with such fluidity and charm, left Charles wondering just how much he still had to learn about him.

Mark was more than just the another guy on the team. He was a mystery, an enigma wrapped in confidence and charisma, and now, Charles couldn’t stop thinking about how much more there was to discover. And, maybe… just maybe… he wanted to hear more.

The paddock had settled down for the evening, and the team gathered for a casual dinner in the hospitality lounge. Conversations flowed easily over plates of pasta and glasses of wine, and as the group laughed and traded stories, Charles found his gaze returning to Mark. There was something endlessly magnetic about the way he carried himself, effortlessly charming everyone around him.

The evening took a turn when a reporter approached the group, recognizing Mark and asking if he could answer a few questions on camera. Mark agreed, standing up and smoothly switching between French, Italian, and English as he answered questions. Each language flowed from him with such ease that he seemed to be holding an audience captive.

The team, especially Charles, watched in admiration as Mark handled each question with grace, slipping effortlessly between languages.

Mark (in French, when asked about his future in racing): “L’avenir? Je ne pense pas trop à ça. Je suis ici pour courir, pour donner le meilleur de moi-même.” (“The future? I don’t think too much about it. I’m here to race, to give my best.”)

Interviewer (impressed): “Vous êtes vraiment polyvalent, Mark. Quelqu’un d’autre qui peut suivre le rythme?” (“You’re really versatile, Mark. Anyone else who can keep up with you?”)

Mark shot a playful look at Charles.

Mark (in Italian, with a grin): “Vedremo chi riesce a stare al passo.” (“We’ll see who can keep up.”)

Charles, caught off guard by the direct look, felt a slight blush creep up. Mark’s smooth confidence and effortless transitions between languages left him feeling… captivated. He tried to focus, to keep his attention on his meal, but Mark’s voice had a way of lingering in his mind. The warmth in his tone, the precision of each word, the charm—each element was enchanting, and Charles found himself smiling.

After the interview, Mark rejoined the table, and the night continued with laughter and friendly banter. Charles couldn’t help himself—his curiosity was too strong.

Charles (leaning closer to Mark, with a playful grin): “Alright, let’s hear it. Say something else in German, maybe Russian? I’ll try to guess what it means.”

Mark chuckled, clearly amused by Charles’ sudden interest. He took a sip of his drink, then leaned back, pretending to consider Charles’ request.

Mark (in German, smirking): “Du wirst kein Wort davon verstehen, Charles.” (“You won’t understand a word of this, Charles.”)

Charles raised an eyebrow, attempting to read Mark’s expression.

Charles (pretending to understand): “Oh, that’s easy—it means I’m an amazing driver.”

Mark burst into laughter, shaking his head. His carefree amusement only made Charles more intrigued.

Mark (in Russian, with a mischievous grin): “Ты действительно ничего не понимаешь, верно?” (“You really don’t understand anything, do you?”)

Charles had to admit defeat, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation.

Charles (laughing): “Fine, fine—I give up. You win, multilingual man of mystery.”

Mark only laughed, clearly enjoying the banter. For the rest of the evening, Charles found subtle ways to keep the conversation going, trying to get Mark to speak in other languages whenever he could. Each time, Mark obliged, offering playful responses in German, Spanish, and even some Russian. With each new phrase, Charles felt himself drawn deeper into Mark’s world, the mystery of his many sides becoming more intoxicating.

The night was winding down, and most of the team had dispersed. Mark and Charles lingered, comfortable in each other’s company as the lights of the paddock glowed softly around them. Charles felt a warmth settle between them, something unspoken but unmistakable.

Charles (quietly): “You know, I think I could get used to this… hearing you switch languages like that. It’s… impressive.”

Mark glanced at him, a soft smile playing on his lips.

Mark (smiling): “Maybe I’ll teach you a few words. But don’t expect to be fluent anytime soon.”

Charles chuckled, shaking his head. But there was a new thought forming in his mind—a hope, almost. He didn’t need to be fluent. Just hearing Mark’s voice, feeling the warmth of his presence, was enough for him.

---

(Dividers by @omi-resources)

[thegreymarveljedi]

Friendly Flying Fun!

(Tech x Reader)

Here it is! The full fic of Friendly Flying Fun! I am so sorry that it took me so long to write this story. It’s been a busy few months and a lot has happened but here we are! (And I’m sorry for the added week after I promised to have it up almost a week and a half ago!!)

This was a request made by @ewokmurderbear

hello hello! i saw your request are open so uh here goes. techxf!jedi reader who is an exceptional pilot. they start having friendly flying competitions with lots of banter. eventally the banter turns into outright flirting bc they both love eachother sm but don't feel comfortable admitting it (yet). but like its obvious to tech's brothers that they like each other but not so much for him. then one time after flying around an alpine area tech takes a risk and does something like tuck a strand of hair behind her ear or fix her clothes or a sweet gesture like that. she returns the favor and then they are both like hey i kinda like you and the rest is history. i really like the idea of a first kiss being outside in a mountainy area where it's kinda cold. just fluff and banter, pre-o66 plz. sorry if its too long or confusing. have a great day/night!

I’m not usually one to write for Tech but I tried my absolute best with this one and I made it very VERY fluffy. Like, go see the doctor, your teeth are ROTTING type fluffy. This is also set closer to the beginning/ middle of the war so pre-order 66 and pre-season 7 (Sorry Echo fans) and I decided to make the reader Anakin’s twin sister. I hope you enjoy.

Warning: almost getting shot, tooth rotting fluff, Tech actually flirts like a pro, teasing, brotherly love, first kiss, head scratching is so relaxing, tech needs love and he gets it, FLUFFFFFYYY (Already said but it needs a second one)

Words: 5.2k

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It was a fierce battle on the surface and in the air, both sides fighting for control of the planet and the information that the locals held. The Bad Batch had been tasked with extracting as much information as they could, doing it quickly and quietly as not to alert the separatists that the local population was siding with the Republic.

The team had successfully acquired the information and were now fighting their way out of the facility. Crosshair had found a perch not to far away where he could clearly watch his squad, making sure to take down any stragglers who may have gotten close. Wrecker, Hunter and Tech were in the mix, fighting off the droids that came their way.

“Woah! Who’s that pilot?” Wrecker asked in awe as a Jedi star fighter flew through the atmosphere, taking out vulture droid after vulture droid and clearing a path for the evac ships.

“I don’t know but I like their style,” Hunter replied as he and Tech continued to take out the droids on the ground. When Wrecker had first spoke, Tech was uninterested, more concerned about getting out of there alive but the second Hunter agreed with Wrecker and Tech looked up, he couldn’t look away from the starfighter. He was captivated by the way it moved through the sky above them, the tricks the Jedi was doing making him feel a little warm inside.

This kind of distraction wasn’t something normal for the genius clone and it took him by surprise when a stray blaster bolt went past his left ear and straight into a stray droid that had snuck infront of him. He quickly shook his head, internally scolding himself for being so easily distracted.

“Watch it Vod. Don’t need you loosing your head,” Crosshairs drawled over the comms making Tech scoff.

“I was not distracted Crosshair, I was merely observing the Jedi’s manoeuvres,” Tech said, adjusting his goggles and taking another few shot at the remaining droids.

“Mmhmm. Sure you were,” Crosshair teased and Tech could practically hear the smirk in his voice. Tech just rolled his eyes as the droid army was finally defeated, the remaining clones of the 212th battalion gathering their things and preparing to load the evacuation ships.

Hunter, Tech and Wrecker finished up, joining Crosshair in speaking with Commander Cody and General Kenobi. Cody and Hunter linked arms in Greeting, with a smile as Obi-wan greeted them with a smile.

“Excellent work sergeant. You and your team have done very well. You have the intel?” He asked and Hunter handed him the drive with the intel they were sent to collect.

“Right here for you general,” Hunter replied and watched as Obi-wan smiled, pocketing the drive.

“You gentlemen have just retrieve data that should help turn the tide in our favour.”

“Just doing our job sir.”

“Speaking of job, I have someone I would like you to meet,” Obi-wan said and all four batchers looked a little confused before the jedi star fighter from earlier flew overhead, an excited ‘Woohoo!’ Coming over the comms.

“(Y/N), would you like to join us on the ground please?” Obi-wan spoke into his wrist comm with a smile and shake of his head.

“Be right there master!” The female voice said back, the starfighter making another loop around before the Jedi inside jumped out mid air, landing perfectly on the ground next to Obi-wan and Cody. The fighter flew off back towards the Negotiator, (Y/N) now facing the bad batch with a giant grin.

“Clone force 99, I would like you to meet my second padawan, (Y/N) Skywalker,” Obi-wan introduced and watched as the Bad Batch’s eyes widened.

They had heard stories of the infamous Skywalker twins but had never met (Y/N) in person. They had met Anakin over a holo but that was briefly during the mission briefing.

“Former padawan master, I just like hanging around you and the boys,” you said while maintaining your grin, watching as the Bad Batch was left stunned.

“Yes, former padawan but no matter where you or Anakin go I will still consider you my students,” Obi-wan said and placed a hand on your shoulder. You smiled at your surrogate father, knowing that he meant it all from a place of love.

“I appreciate it Obi-wan. Now, who do we have here?” You said and turned back to the Bad Batch, all four of them now standing at attention.

“This is Sergeant Hunter,” Cody informed, pointing to the clone with the red bandanna. You smiled and gave him a nod.

“Good to meet you Hunter. I look forward to working with your squad,” you said with a grin and Hunter gave a nod in return.

“Likewise general, our squad likes to get the job done.”

“Likewise sergeant. And who is this?” You ask as you point to Wrecker who is smirking at you. You return it just as intensely, walking up to Wrecker and sizing him up.

“The name’s Wrecker general!” He says enthusiastically, giving his palm a punch with his other hand. Your grin somehow gets wider as you mimic his action.

“I think you and I will get along just great Wrecker, especially if you like to have fun,” you wiggled your eyebrows at him which made him laugh.

“I like you already!” You laughed and turned to look at the silent on with the toothpick in his mouth. You met his eyes and remained staring at one another, neither of you breaking eye contact even to blink.

“That’s Crosshair, he’s not much of a conversationalist but when you need to hit a precise target front 10-clicks, Crosshair’s you man,” Hunter explained and watched as the two of you continued to stare. Crosshair, surprisingly, was the one to break first, eyes rapidly blinking to get moister back.

You stood triumphantly before reaching a hand out to shake his. The rest of the batch watched with baited breathes, knowing that Crosshair never shook anyone’s hand unless they earned his respect in some way. They all gasped when his hand met yours in a firm grasp, the corner of his lip lifting in a very subtle smile. You nodded in understanding, knowing that you still had a ways to go to get him to trust you but that you had earned the chance to prove yourself.

“I like a challenge ram’ser, and I look forward to seeing your skills in action,” you said, watching as Crosshair nodded and moved back. Lastly, you turned to look at the ever so slightly shorter brother, his face buried in his data pad as he tried very hard to avoid your eyes. You cleared your throat which made him look at you, your eyes locking as if in a trance.

“And who is this handsome trooper?” You said, voice taking on much more flirty tone. Tech continued to hold your gaze as you walked up to him, his data now hanging at his side in his hand.

“This is-“

“Tech, general,” Tech interrupted his older brother, taking the initiative to introduce himself.

“It’s nice to meet an even more handsome face,” you said flirtatiously, watching as a blush bloomed on Tech’s cheeks.

“Thank you for the compliment, though I do believe my brain is worth more than my looks,” he said back, his data pad finding a home on his hip as he gives you his full undivided attention. The rest of the squad was once again left in shock, not used to Tech being focused on something other than his data pad.

“I’m sure it is just as handsome as you,” you replied, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before retreating back to Obi-wan and Cody. They had watched the whole exchange from the side lines, knowing that you were not so easily corralled once you had your heart set on something. Instead, Obi-wan gave you a shake of his head with an another small smiling, his eyes turning back to Hunter.

“Sergeant, your squad has done great work so far in this war and to continue to improve your productivity, (Y/N) will be coming on as your general temporarily,” Obi-wan explained, receiving a few different reactions rom the squad.

Hunter nodded in approval, knowing not to argue with the Jedi master. He wasn’t opposed to having a new squad member, especially one who might have some new skills to teach him. He was looking forward to seeing you in action.

Wrecker hollered in agreement, excited to get to show you how he liked to do things. He hoped that you shared his love of explosions and would help him blast some clankers.

Crosshair was a little less enthused, mumbling about not needing a babysitter when he and his brothers could get the job done quick. He may have given you a chance to earn his respect but that didn’t mean he wanted you on the team. Though, as if sensing Crosshairs disagreement with this decision, you levelled him with another stare. Once again he tried to keep eye contact but backed down once again, rolling his eyes and placing another toothpick in his mouth.

Tech however was the most intrigued, knowing that there was still knowledge to learn from the Jedi. He hoped that maybe on leave, he could ask you questions and pick your brain for more knowledge. Maybe have you show him some flying tricks and manoeuvres that he may not know just yet. Tech met your eyes after your stare off with Crosshair and smiled as you winked at him, blushing a little before picking up his datapad and burying his face in it.

“This change is only temporary to see how well you work with a Jedi. It is not something that will remain if the results are inconclusive. If the results of this change are satisfactory, the choice to stay will be left up to (Y/N),” Obi-wan continued which made you smile, the Bad Batch all nodding in understanding.

“Sounds like a plan general,” Hunter said and watched as you and Obi-wan had your own quiet exchange.

“I trust you will work well with your new squad?” Obi-wan asked you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You smiled in response, placing your hand on top of his.

“Of course Master, I’m very excited to work with them after everything Cody and the boys have told me,” you said and looked to Cody who only smiled and gave you a nod.

“Of course (Y/N). Please be safe and don’t be a stranger.”

“I won’t Obi-wan, you can count on that.”

Obi-wan was a little sad to watch you go, his second student moving on to lead another unit in this war. He was proud of both you and Anakin and as Obi-wan watched you walk back over to the batch, he knew that he had done a good job as a teacher.

Hunter motioned for the Batch to begin heading back to the Marauder, wanting to at least clean it up a little for you. Crosshair and Wrecker were the first to turn and make their way to the ship, disappearing behind the facility they had infiltrated and cleared out. Tech however, stayed next to Hunter which surprised the sergeant greatly. He looked at Tech curiously but was met with no verbal explanation, Tech just having his head down until they watched you walk back over to them.

“Are we ready to go?” You asked, giving Hunter a smile and Tech another wink. Before Hunter could say anything, Tech jumped in, walking beside you and leading you to the marauder with a hand on your shoulder and beginning to ramble about their ship and all its capabilities.

Hunter rolled his eyes and smirked as he watched from a safe distance, his little brother talked their new general’s ear off. He knew that this was something new and exciting for Tech so he wasn’t going to ruin it.

~Time Skip~

You had been with the batch for a couple weeks now and it had been some of the most thrilling and memorable time of your life. The boys were outstanding in their work and knew how to get the job done quickly and quietly. You had adapted well to their tactics and had even dawned some of their spare armour. It had been a gift from all four of them but Crosshair’s idea.

Tech had taken it upon himself to modify the armour, making sure that it fit your body as well as worked for your maneuvering on the field. It was a welcome gift from them to you, making sure you stayed protected while with them on missions. They had even made sure to paint a 99 on the gauntlet for you as a symbol of you being their general.

Your first time wearing the armour, Tech couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were breathing in his eyes, the armour complimenting your skin well. Watching you fight was a whole other experience, your movements and skills unmatched by anyone other than a few of your higher ranking Jedi. You moved like the wind, quick and unforgiving while still being graceful.

Your flying skills however, were really what brought Tech to his knees. You were an exceptional pilot, knowing how to fly a ship even with your eyes closed, literally.

The first time you had done it the boys had panicked, Tech reaching to take over the controls but all you did was laugh, flawlessly maneuvering the marauder through the sky and to a safe landing Zone. Hunter has scolded you but with one look, you silenced him with a stare before standing and moving off the marauder. From that day on Tech knew he was fucked, your beauty, your skills, your fearlessness and confidence had hooked him.

And when you flirted with him? His soul was on cloud nine everytime.

“Hey handsome, how’s it feel to be the smartest man alive?”

“I hope you know CPR because you just took my breath away.”

“I would ask if you wanted to see a holofilm with me, but I don’t want to get in trouble for bringing in a snack.”

“I’d buy you a drink, but I’d be jealous of the glass.”

Eventually he worked up the courage to flirt back after one too many comment from his brothers. Hunter was getting a little fed up with his younger brother’s rambling, wanting him to just reciprocate. Wrecker and Crosshair teased him relentlessly, laughing at his failed attempts to flirt back or respond with anything other than helpless rambling.

Eventually he got it down, managing to flirt right back with you much to your delight.

“I’m an organ donor. Can I give you my heart?” You said once, rest your hands on his shoulders from behind while he sat in the pilots chair.

“Do you believe in love at first sight or should I walk by again?” He responded quickly while turning the seat to face you. The look on your face must have made him more confident because he followed up with another line very quickly.

“Even in zero gravity, I’d still fall for your beauty.”

It was your turn to blush before you gained your wits back, leaning into to be face to face with him again.

“If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put U and I together.”

That made Tech chuckle as he turned back to the window of the marauder, focusing on flying the ship once more. Hunter, Wrecker and Crosshair had not been spared from the cheesy exchange, all three trying not to cringe or laugh at the display.

From there on, you and Tech flirted relentlessly with one another, always finding time and ways to squeeze in little comment to each other much to the dismay of the others. They all knew you and Tech had the hits for each other. And they all knew that both of you knew but were too afraid to act on it.

It was after another successful mission when Tech asked you to fly with him for a little.

“Would you care to join me for a friendly flying competition?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck. You smiled widely at him and nodded, taking the copilots seat as Tech set off into the skies.

The whole time you were flirting with one another, even as you performed a perfect Cuban eight with your eyes closed. Tech was infatuated with you, watching as your eyes lit up and your smile met them. Your cheeks were tinted with a little red blush from the adrenaline rush.

When it was his turn to take the controls, Tech performed a flawless cobra maneuver, watching as you yelped with delight at the rush. You spent hours in the air before finally coming back to the ground where the others were waiting with knowing smiles on their faces.

~Time Skip~

“Now that our mission is over, General Kenobi is allowing us a week of shore leave, especially after this one,” Hunter explained and everyone visibly deflated with delight.

You had been with the Bad Batch for close to nine months now, working along side them smoothly and completing every mission successfully with very little issue. The squad trusted you now, even Crosshair had come to respect and trust you, making jokes with you here and there. Wrecker was always fun to talk too about explosions and all things food and Hunter was a very good conversationalist in battle strategies and handheld weaponry.

And Tech….

Oh Tech, he was something else; a handsome genius with an adorable smile and a heart of hearts. He flirted back with you all the time now and even initiated your flirting ‘contests’ sometimes. It made you swoon whenever he did and you made sure to flutter your lashes at him a little more.

“Where are we going to spend it?” Wrecker asked hesitantly.

“Please not Kamino again,” Crosshair hissed, an undertone of distaste seeping into his words.

“We could go to Coruscant?” Hunter suggested, looking to his brothers for any sort of agreement.

“I do not believe Coruscant would be the ideal choice,” Tech chimed in, adjusting his goggles in the cute way he always did.

“Why not?” You asked, head tilting in confusion as you looked at the boys for an explanation.

“We’re not really welcomed by any of the other clones,” Wrecker explained cautiously before Crosshair butted in.

“They don’t like us because we actually do our jobs right,” he sneered.

“But what about Cody and the 212th? They love you guys!” You said exasperatedly, not believing much of what they were saying.

“They put up with us because they have too. Cody likes us but the others whisper about us all the time. They don’t think we hear them but we do,” Hunter said and crossed his arms. Your mouth hung open in shock, not wanting to believe that your beloved battalion wouldn’t get along with your new squad.

“That’s bantha shit. I’ll give them a piece of my mind once our leave is over. In the mean time, let me go make a call,” you said and stomped off, far enough away that even Hunter couldn’t hear the conversation you were having with a certain senator.

~Time Skip~

When you had finished your conversation, you waltzed back over to the boys in much better spirits, explaining how you pulled a couple strings to get a week away in Naboo at a nice lake side cabin. They were very intrigued by your changed attitude and the prospect of going to Naboo to relax and recoup.

You and Tech had dropped the others off at the cabin, the beautiful place a great escape for shore leave after the close call of the last mission. Tech, however, had asked you if you would like to have another little flying contest before you both settled down at the cabin.

You had readily agreed, wanting any opportunity to spend time with the genius clone as well as to show of your skills. You had each taken turns at the helm of the marauder, performing tricks in the air that made each other laugh. You always liked to show off a tailslide and turn it into an inside loop, the adrenaline rush from both maneuvers making to you holler with excitement.

Tech on the other hand went for what the boys and yourself had branded as “the Tech turn” though he would never call it that himself. He performed the maneuver with ease, making you laugh. You each performed another few tricks before Tech took back control and landed you both on top of a grass covered mountain top. The air had a chill to it though neither of you seemed to mind as Tech let the gangplank down and led you out of the marauder.

He took your hand gently in his and led you to sit on the edge of the cliff, placing a standard regulation blanket down before guiding you to sit next to him. You smiled at his kindness and thanked him, joining him without any thought or care in the world.

You sat there in silence for a moment, taking in the view of the planet surface from so high up. Looking at the open fields below the mountain ranges, admiring the beautiful landscape that Naboo had to offer.

“How did you find out about this place?” Tech asked, watching the same landscape and view you were, only his eyes shifted to settle more on you.

“I have my way,” you replied and gave a Tech a wink causing him to chuckle.

“You are full of surprises general.”

“Call me (Y/N), Tech. There’s no one around. It’s just us,” you said and looked over to him. He nodded and tested the name on his tongue. He had call you by your name only once before but he had been so embarrassed to do it again even when you said it had been okay. Now with the confidence he had gained, he didn’t feel afraid.

“This is a beautiful place (Y/N). Are you sure you will not disclose how you came to afford such a dashing place for our shore leave?” Tech inquired, watching as a small shiver ran down your spine as he said your name.

“That will be a story for another time,” you said, knowing full well that you could tell him but wanting to save it for later.

“Very well then my Dear,” Tech chuckled and gave you the side eye. You both started at one another for a minute, not breaking eyes contact before once again, Tech lost. Your stare was so deep and intense that none of the boys could beat it. When Tech looked away and blinked you whooped in triumph, laughing at your victory once again.

Tech smiled as he looked back over to you, your eyes crinkled up as you laughed, feeling the adrenaline of the last hour lingering in the air. Tech’s eyes were filled with love and adoration for you, the months of flirting and playful banter finally sinking into his heart and making him think.

Maybe, just maybe she’ll reciprocate…

His mind was all over the place, for the first time in a long time and it took all his brain power to focus. How could he though? He was taken by your beauty, your heart, your confidence and your kindness. He was so madly in love with you. He knew it and his brothers knew it but he didn’t think you did.

Without thinking, Tech reached over to where to sat next to him on the cliff top, tucking a stray strand of hair out of your face and behind your ear. The action cut off your laughter as you look at Tech whose cheeks were a tinge pink and his eyes mesmerized by something. Your eyes met his and he carefully pulled back before clearing his throat and turning away from you, fiddling with his hands awkwardly.

Your heart melted at the sight of the oh so smug genius being embarrassed by the little action of affection. You smiled at him and reached over to him, taking his hand in yours. He stiffened for a moment before relaxing and turning back to you, his cheeks still a little pink from the cold as well as embarrassment.

“I-I am sorry if I overstepped, I do not know what came over me and I-“

You cut him off by placing a warm hand on his cheek, the rest of his sentence dying in his throat.

“You didn’t over step at all Tech. I promise.”

“Are you certain? I understand that as a Jedi you do not have the lu-“

You cut him off again with a little laugh before leaning forward, connecting your foreheads together in a keldabe kiss. Tech’s breath hitched in his throat at the tender action, eyes closing and forehead sinking into the touch. You stayed there for what felt like forever before your other came to join your first on Tech’s opposite check. His breath hitched a little again as he let out a shaky sigh.

“Tech…” his name fell from your lips so gently and quietly, as if saying it any louder would break the atmosphere of the moment. Tech almost didn’t hear you but when his eyes opened to meet yours once more, it was clear what you were silently asking.

It took him weeks to work up the courage to flirt back with you instead of rambling when you spoke to him and when he finally worked up the courage to reciprocate the flirting, he was on cloud nine. You had been dancing around each other for months since then, playful teasing and shameless flirting. It all led to this.

Tech’s eyes closed as he brought his gloved hands to your cheeks and pulled you into a seering yet gentle kiss. The world around you both melted away as your lips connected, months of tension being released as you both engaged.

Tech’s lips were soft against yours, his hands radiating heat even through his gloves. Your lips were just at soft, your hands falling to hold his wrist so he wouldn’t pull away just yet. The kiss seemed to last a life time before you both pulled away for some much needed air, remaining close with your foreheads pressed together.

“That was..”

“Breathtaking?”

“Quite literally.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“I am very much not opposed to doing that again.”

“Then why don’t we?”

Tech didn’t need to be told twice as he hoisted you onto his lap and crashed his lips to yours again. Sparks flew and a new found sense of longing settled in your bones. The kiss was more fierce this time, Tech slowly but surely finding his rhythm as his hands settled on your hips. Your arms settled around his neck, fingers toying with the wispy hairs present on the back of his neck.

Tech squeezed your hips and nipped at your lip, drawing a short but pleased sigh from you. He smirked against your lips and pulled away, once again out of breath. You weren’t much better, chest rising and falling quickly with the need for air.

“You - I - holy shit,” you breathed out, the words to describe what you were feeling right now escaped you. Tech chuckled at your fumbling, smoothing his thumb over your left cheek.

“Now it’s you who is left speechless mesh’la,” he teased as you rolled your eyes with a smile.

“What can I say? You’re a really good kisser,” you shot back making Tech blush a little.

“I try, my dear. I have never had the opportunity to do something like this with anyone. It never felt right if there were no feelings of infatuation involved,” Tech said huskily, his voice low and afraid of scaring you off. You smiled shyly at him and kissed his nose, your eyes conveying what you were feeling before your mouth could vocalize it.

“I understand Tech. Being a Jedi, we’re not supposed to form attachments or relationships with people but with you, it feels so natural,” you replied and watched as his eyes lit up slightly.

“Are you saying that you feel the same about me as I do you?”

“If you’re trying to tell me that you like me then yes, that’s exactly what I’m trying to say.”

No more words were spoken as Tech once again pulled your lips to his, the kiss firm yet gentle. Your lips moved together perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together. It was as if you had been together for years, the kiss perfect in every way.

You ran your fingers through his hair as best you could, slowly removing his goggles and placing them down next to both of you. Tech blinked rapidly a few times, eyes adjusted to the world without his trusted eyewear. He looked at you with a confused expression before his shoulders slumped and he melted against you, feeling your fingers massage his scalp and neck. It felt so relaxing, the tension leaving his body like a puff of air.

You giggled as Tech let his head fall forward to rest on your shoulder, breathing deep and relaxed as you continued you movements on his neck. When you hit a particularly rough knot, Tech groaned, his hands flying to your hips once more as you worked the knot out.

“Cyare,” Tech whispered as you moved back to his scalp, scratching it gently.

“Hmm?” Was all you responded with, not wanting to be any louder for fear of disrupting the atmosphere.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For this, for everything you have done for our squad, for being there for us all and for treating us like people instead of expendable objects,” Tech’s words struck a cord in you, the sentiment behind them making itself clear. They had never been treated like people, always being sent on one mission after another, the fear of death or failure always there. They were soldiers yes, but that didn’t mean they were less than human.

“Of course Tech, you’re just as human as I am and you do so much for the galaxy. You fight for those who can’t and stand up for those who won’t. You and your brothers are good men and I will fight anyone who tries to say otherwise,” Tech smiled at your words, your words helping him to feel like a normal man instead of a soldier.

“Thank you Cyar’ika,” he replied and wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you close and letting himself dream of the future.

—————

I don’t know if I fully like what I’ve written here but please, let me know your thoughts about it. I hope it’s not to bad!

[callmearcturus]

✈️

so this is a remix/companion piece to a fic @arquiving is working on. we're using a lot of the same assets, telling different stories. you should all know the epigraph at the start is:

"Hey, Austin?" "Yeah?" "Do you wanna know what the weak point of a mech is?" "Yeah, what's the weak point of a mech?" "The fucking pilot."

— Jack de Quidt, Austin Walker, The Road To PARTIZAN

The story is, basically

I actually have no idea how to explain it, so here's some excerpts I wrote for either my version of the story or @arquiving

\\\ PATCH NOTES FOR F-14 MECHANIZED COMBAT APPARATUS MCA-012, DESIGNATION MAVERICK.

Retrofitting to F18 specs completed July 02, 2022. Comms upgrade completed, along with hardware alterations to accommodate them. Engine upgraded from V9.0 to V10.8 dual-compatible.

Retrofit marked SUCCESSFUL with following caveats:

> Cockpit depth within apparatus reduced but not currently within acceptable range for F18 safety compliance. Upgrade partially complete.

> Standardized rigging of anchor lines found repeatedly incompatible with apparatus chassis. Adjusted anchor line mounts engineered. Fourth iteration of improvised mounts found to be stable. Report from MCA Technician Corp suggests "do not adjust again, no better options found, current setup slightly precarious." Upgrade partially complete.

> After seven attempts to introduce new SC-84-18990 formulation, discovered Apparatus anatomy will not tolerate new compliant Seele conductant and will forcibly expel through vents, requiring full decontamination and cleaning. See appendix 17 for  further detail. Upgrade declined.

> Attempts to remove secondary cockpit failed. Upgrade declined.

> Attempts to install automated secondary cockpit violently rejected by apparatus anatomy. Upgrade declined.

MCA-012, designation MAVERICK, classified as single-pilot apparatus. Please note WSO "second seat" is present but is not to be used under any circumstances. See Warrant Office Coleman with any inquiries.

=

Bradley remembered when the Naming happened.

It was kind of funny, the way the Navy had gotten first crack at the Exclusion Zones. When Bradley was back in Basic, it was a frequent point of discussion and low-brow humor. When Phoenix— just Nat back then— had mentioned she was getting sent to the Tanager Outpost, Bradley had asked her if she was packing a swimsuit.

"It's 300 miles from any body of water," Nat had groused. "Remember when we were the boat people, Bradshaw?"

Truly, Bradley didn't, and he knew Nat didn't either. Both of them were too young to remember before the Zones appeared. The Navy of old existed on celluloid and in history books. Hell, back when Bradley was in high school, the textbooks hadn't even been updated with all that shit. He wondered if kids in AP World History had to learn the names of the Zones or the order they had opened in.

But that may have been 300 years ago for all that it mattered now.

Bradley had always hoped he'd get assigned to the mech corps when he was in Annapolis. Between his last name and the fact he had Admiral Kazansky's phone number in his contacts, he thought he might get in. But Bradley also knew how few MCAs existed, and the Navy didn't let you opt-into the pilot program. You either passed the aptitude test or you didn't.

The test had been a fucking blood test. Someone took four vials of his blood and walked away with them, and nobody told him shit.

Everyone's results were classified.

Bridewell was not the first base Bradley had been stationed at, but the third, after Yokosuka. He'd put in his time watching monitors as Seresin ran underwater drills in his MCA, keeping an eye on the sync rate.

He'd been on duty when Seresin had broken the 90 percent threshold and had started laughing over his monitor. "Yokosuka, tell the techs to break out the stencils and spray paint. MCA-zero-four-niner's designation is HANGMAN."

Of course it had been HANGMAN. "How the hell do you deal with that cockpit," Rooster had asked Hangman over ice cold asahi at the local pilot bar.

"Ain't as bad as it looks," Hangman had said with an almost fond smile. "I know my boy's going to protect me."

"Boy?" Bradley grew up hearing men call their favorite car milady and ships were still consider old broads. The specificity had caught his ear.

"Hm? Yeah. Or, closer to that than anything." Hangman had tilted his bottle against the tabletop, letting it roll along the curve of the glass. "They don't tell you that part. Maybe because most of the people writing the manual can't break a fifty on their synch ratio, so they don't even know. But the mech has ideas of what it is. You just gotta listen."

After Yokosuka, Bradley was back in the states, Bridewell Forward Operating Base, right outside of the Gateway Exclusion Zone. No one called it St. Louis anymore, just Bridewell if you were military or Gateway if you were a civilian.

Bradley was piloting MCA-059 when it all went to shit. 059 was an odd bird, slow ambulation with its awkward hip joints, but the legs were… different. As his sync rate climbed, he could feel the massive shock absorbers around his ankles, how his femurs were hydraulics. 059 was fitted for urban landscapes, it was built to actually maneuver around the buildings and the streets.

Shutting his eyes, Bradley inhaled, mouth and lungs full of Seele conductant. Holding it inside, he listened to the low thudding ping of his sync ratio rising. He counted until his synch settled at 57 percent.

"Lieutenant," his comms officer hailed over the radio. "We have a report from the tower, there's a fluctuation over by the riverside, south of the I-65."

"What kind of fluctuation? Something big wander out?" The majority of his work around Gateway was just making sure nothing from the Zone crossed the Mississippi. Plenty of people still insisted on living in Gateway for reasons Bradley had never understood. 

"Information is currently incomplete, but marked as urgent. Setting guidance."

Coordinates updated in the cockpit, and Bradley felt the faint tug of that way, already pulling his mech around. Turning his grip on the controls, 069 sank down, sinking below the skyline. At 30 percent power, Bradley let the line snap like releasing a rubber band, and he launched up into the air.

Wind rushed by him as he soared in a narrow arc, landing on a rooftop. From here, he could see down the river.

"What the hell is that?" he murmured as the opalline green-blue sheen of the Zone wall curled and twisted into nonsensical kaleidoscopes.

He had eyes on it when the wall just ruptured, split like a worn seam. Underneath was more shimmering Zone wall, spilling out from the break like silk in water, spurting across the river. As it landed on the Missouri-side, it filled out, the wrinkles smoothing out as it stretched.

"Zone wall anomaly, the Zone has breached the river boundary," Bradley called out, twisting his throttle sharply. 059's thighs folded down into its calves, pressure building.

This time Bradley didn't aim up, he pushed forward, rocketing over to anomaly with such force, his body slammed back fully into his pilot's seat.

It was the Gateway Zone Expansion, the first of its kind. Usually Zones didn't get wider, just deeper.

Much later, Bradley would be questioned extensively about what he saw, the shape of the growth, how quickly it had spread and whether the spread had felt directed, bullshit like that. But in the moment, Bradley hurled himself and his mech into action.

There was no way to stop the expansion, so Bradley followed it, spire jumping along the boundary. As FRM began to wander out into the city streets, he fell on them, grasping every weird-ass creature with his metal hands and redirecting them back into the veil.

His brain was alight with waypoints and blooms of information, and he continued the crash his thousand-ton body into the streets, the hydraulic tension in his legs becoming easier to take each time.

There was no moment of epiphany, no trip through the Star Gate, just— ROOSTER. He felt the connection like a breeze through his hair. MCA-059 was ROOSTER, or they were ROOSTER, it was complicated.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw, your synchronicity is unstable. Please return to baseline," a MCA technician said over the comms.

"I'm fine," Rooster said. "I— I just, it was the thing, I—" He glanced over at the monitor.

72%. Personal best. He breathed in and felt his chest expand, his shoulders rolling back, the accentuators powering, shifting the mech's limbs with him.

He exhaled slowly. "Uh, status update. MCA-059 should probably be designated ROOSTER. Yeah, Re-engaging FRM." Twisting the throttle, he soared.

=

\\US NAVAL MECHANIZED COMBAT APPARATUS CORPS TOPSHEET \\CANDIDATE PROFILE \\LT BRADLEY BRADSHAW

STATIONED AT BRIDEWELL NAVAL FORWARD BASE, OUTSIDE THE GATEWAY EXCLUSION ZONE

MCA Pilot Proficiency Test conducted during tenure at Annapolis. Results in second percentile. Stationed with MCA Corp to monitor for future placement.

Assigned to Gateway Perimeter Guard and on duty during an unexplained Zone expansion. Earned multiple commendations for efforts aiding civilian evacuation and redirecting FRMs away from evacuation routes.

Permanently assigned to MCA-059, "ROOSTER."

Recommended for Special Detachment by Admiral Thomas Kazansky. Reassignment to Tanager Outpost pending.

[masked-watcher]

More Than That

Words: 4.5k

Pairing: Soap x Ghost

Warnings: None apply

Tags: Fluff, confessions, awkward men trying to talk to each other

Artist: aiden.lydia on Instagram

Soap and Ghost were in a bar, a little tired after a long day. Sitting by themselves, not talking to anyone in particular- just drinking. Without realizing, Johnny catches himself staring at him. Ghost looks over, meeting his eyes and cocking his head to the side a bit.

“You’ve been staring MacTavish.”

Soap freezes a little, not aware he's been so obvious. Then giving him a lopsided smirk. "Sorry L.T... Just been a while since we did something outside of a mission."

The older man chuckles. “I feel ya. Sometimes the stress of doing your damn job needs a good release. Speaking of… What’s that you got?” He points at his drink. The scotsman laughs, taking a sip.

"Whiskey, feels at least a little like home." The younger one smirks and nods to the others glass. "Next one's on me."

“Sure, I’ll take you up on that. I’ll have the same.”

He signals to the bartender, who pours Ghost a glass of golden, honey like liquid, which he accepts with a slight nod.

" 's pretty nice to hang around with ya Ghost. Missed that. Missed my buddy." Soap grins before taking another swig. The banter between them, especially over comms, has gotten more intense lately. Their last mission just a few days ago was... something. They made it out alive, obviously. But for a while things started to look grim. At least they had each other to listen to.

Soap catches himself staring again before looking away. Letting his gaze drift over the other people in the bar.

“I’ll drink to that. I missed it too, Soap.” He pauses, and finishes his beer in a matter of seconds before shifting his attention to the newly acquired drink. “The last mission was… A real clusterfuck. Bloody hells, I thought we were done for, for a minute there.”

"Was worried for a second but-" The scotsman looks down at his glass, smiling softly. "I knew I'd be safe with you looking out for me." With that, his eyes find their way to Ghost's. Blue meeting brown. And they stay like that for a moment. Just for a heartbeat. Until the masked man gives a little grunt of confirmation, taking the small glass of whiskey, slowly nursing it down. He relaxes a little as the drink settles in.

“Not like I wouldn’t be worried about your ass too. You may be a hell of a soldier…” He grins under his mask, the only thing visible being the crinkle of his eyes. “But you’re dumb as a sack of bricks outside a firefight.”

"Oi!" Soap protests and jokingly punches him on the shoulder. "I got dem street smarts aye? You'd be done for if I didn't contribute my quick thinkin' and I ain't not scared of a little... boom." He underlined the last part with a wiggle of his brows. The older one gives a short bark of laughter, almost choking on his drink for a moment.

“I always know you’ve got my back, Johnny.” He pauses, taking in the atmosphere for a moment. “It’s good to have a few minutes to relax. And not have to worry about getting shot at.” He glances at his sergeant for a moment, but doesn’t pursue that thought further before taking a generous swig of his booze. His throat slightly burns.

Soap flashes him a toothy grin before nipping at his own, almost empty glass. Leaning a little forward on the bar stool, supporting his head on his hand, propped up on the countertop. "Yea... These moments are rare. So I really wanna enjoy them to the fullest while they last."

“I hear that.” The Lieutenant pauses, taking in the sounds and smells of the bar. He glances at his company again for a moment, before turning back and staring at his whiskey. “You know, you’re different without the gear on, Soap.” He says it in a matter of fact way. Not necessarily a diss, but the truth. “You’re almost… Normal.”

Another grin spreads on the scots lips as he looks down once more. Voice soft and almost murmuring. "Kinda sounds like a bad thing when you say it..." He wasn't completely serious. But it got him thinking.

“Not at all, Johnny.” Ghost shifts his position slightly, and looks at him again. "What I meant was… Outside of a mission or the field, you relax… you have a softer side. You’re not a robot." Not like me. But he keeps that thought to himself, leaning back against his bar stool. "And... You still get a little nervous talking to females." A slight eyebrow raise from Soap. "In all fairness, so do I."

Soap snorts, shaking his head. "Dunnae wat ya mean. I got the rizz baby. Could snatch me any woman I want from here." Of course he is confident. And as he emptied his golden liquor, maybe also a slight bit tipsy. Just adding to his boldness. Ghost watches him, raising a brow as he boasts about his "rizz".

“I saw you try and flirt with that waitress, Soap. I saw the way she shot you down.” He tries not to snicker, but it’s a lost cause. “You’re gonna need a lot more work with the ‘rizz’ before you ‘snatch’ any woman from here.”

"Pff, that was nothin'. She shot me down cause she was into women herself. Here, watch this." Soap cracks his knuckles and hops from the stool. Making his way towards a woman leaning against a wall, drinking. He proceeds to talk to her, trying to impress her with his military position and attempting to buy her a drink. But she turns him down; very quickly.

With a little pout he returns back to Ghost, slumping onto the stool once more and immediately ordering a new drink for himself. Ghost watched his fruitless efforts to flirt, not even bothering to hide his amusement. “Damn, soldier… You’re worse than I thought.” He takes a last sip of his drink. “I mean… Did you really think that girl was going to be head-over-heels for a soldier?” He chuckles. It is low and vibrating. Rumbling in his chest. A rare sound but even more treasured that way whenever Soap got to hear it. “You may be a hell of a soldier, Soap, but your ‘rizz’ could use some work… Or maybe some new lines. And new moves.”

Now the younger one takes a sip and looks at him, raising his slitted eyebrow. "Oh yea? As if you know anything about flirting. But now I'm curious. Lemme hear your best line or move. Come on." He again wiggles his brows and grins at him.

His lieutenant looks him over for a moment. “The trick… Is confidence.” He shrugs, as if that should be obvious. “If you’re gonna hit on a girl…” He pauses and smirks. “Be straight up. Honest. Don’t try and charm her or hit her with some cheesy ass ‘slick’ line.” He rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Just be you, Soap.”

"Just be me? Hasn't worked recently to be honest. I'm not all that great." He chuckles, a little self deprecating perhaps. He slowly starts to feel the alcohol. Averting his gaze.

The older man watches him and frowns slightly, setting his drink down. He shifts his position a little bit, leaning on the counter, as if trying to get a little closer to him. “Johnny, don’t doubt yourself. You’re a good man. And any girl out there would be lucky to be with you.” He pauses and sets his elbow down on the counter, resting his head on his hand. “What’s your problem with the ladies anyway? You are never like this when we are in the field.” Maybe the intentions of this question are a little selfish. What answer exactly did Ghost hope for?

Soap chuckles before he looks up at him. Smirking. "Yea well, on the field it's you and me. The banter is easy with you. Just comes natural, ya know?" Ghost looks at him for a moment, trying to gauge how much the alcohol has affected him. “Yeah… I get that. But even off the field. You were always so… Charismatic. Flirtatious, to some extent too. Remember the time when we were stationed in Eastern Europe?" He pauses, his eyes drifting slightly, as if in thought. He glances at him again, meeting his eyes. “The way you were with those locals… You practically flirted with every woman we met.”

Johnny still had that smirk on his lips, nodding as he remembers that time. He did manage to score, spending some nights off base. He mumbles into his drink as he takes another swig. "Maybe my priorities have changed over time..."

“...Maybe.” Ghost wasn't sure what kind of answer that was, still looking at him thoughtfully. “What happened? You used to be like Casanova. Hell, you probably had half of the town wrapped around your finger.” He pauses, then sighs as if something has just occurred to him. “Come to think of it… You never do talk about women much anymore, do you?”

"Ah, s'pose I haven't. Didn't even notice, haha." The scotsman empties the glass, not immediately ordering a replacement. After all, he didn't want to get wasted so it was time for a short break. He fully turned to look at his lieutenant. "You never really do either. I don't think I ever really heard you talk about any relationship. Not interested right now L.T.?"

Ghost looks slightly surprised when he brings that up but quickly recovers. He shrugs, trying to play it cool- trying to appear nonchalant. “I mean… The work we do… We’re not exactly the ideal men to settle down with, now are we?” He pauses. “So nah, I haven’t really thought about it. Besides, I’m always moving around anyway.” He then smirks, looking at Soap. “What about you? Still no one back home waiting for you?”

"Guess you're right 'bout that..." He sighs, a little lost in thought. Circling his finger around the rim of his empty glass. "Kinda miss someone by my side tho... It does get lonely sometimes. With just your mind keeping you company at night. Not the best type either."

The masked man watches him quietly as he contemplates. It was different to see him in a situation not completely under control. Not exactly a bad thing, seeing him vulnerable like this. It’s humanizing. “Missin' someone after all?" He shifts on his stool again, his voice quieter; it was as if it took effort for him to ask that. He waits for the answer, eyes on Soap the whole time. Who shakes his head, smiling softly.

"Ah, no. No one in particular." Finally he lifts his head to lock eyes with him. Looking at his gaze through his mask. Holding it maybe a bit too long. But the older one stares back just as intense. Perhaps too intense. He doesn’t even flinch, but there was a slight edge to the way the air felt between them both. Neither of them were breaking eye contact, almost as though they were challenging each other. When he finally spoke up, Ghost's voice was softer than usual; a lot of the usual banter and sarcasm gone.

“That’s nice to hear. Maybe we’re not so different after all.”

Johnny's eyes flicker but he quickly recovers. Slowly and surely, a light blush began to spread across his cheeks. "Maybe not..." Okay to hell with it. He signaled the bartender he needed a beer. He couldn't do that whole feelings talk so effortlessly. Ghost watches him and doesn't say anything. He looks back down at his own drink, nursing it slowly now. An odd, tense silence settling between the two of them. He takes in Soap's features for a moment, out of the corner of his eye; the way his mohawk curls around the back of his neck when it got too long, his piercing blue eyes rivaling the clear summer sky, strong facial structure adorned by a slight beard. His eyes flicker to his lips for a moment, before he shakes his head quickly and looks back down at his drink. He takes in another sip, his blush only worsening.

"Hey L.T. Wanna bail after this?" Soap's lips curve into a soft smile. Ghost glances back at him, almost surprised he asks. But he slowly nods and the younger one finishes his pint with a few big gulps. “Hell… Yeah, you read my mind. I was about to ask the same.” He rises to his feet, offering him a slight grin that is only noticeable through the movement of his eyes. “Let’s get out of here, Soap.”

The cold night air immediately hits them. It is refreshing, waking them up again slightly. Soap takes a short moment to close his eyes and inhales. Then looking up at his company besides him. "Alright, let's head back to base." The taller man stares out at the night, taking in the view before nodding. There’s a slight hint of relief on his face as he suggests heading back to the base. “I could use some rest anyway. It’s been a long day.”

Ghost starts to walk, heading to the alleyway back towards the base. His steps are steady and deliberate, almost robotic. As if his mind is completely absent from the present; his thoughts somewhere else. He gestures at his sergeant to come along, not slowing his pace, who quickly scrambles after him until they are walking side by side. It would take them a bit until they arrive. But that was fine, he didn't mind.

"...I had fun today. Thanks, Simon." He quietly spoke into the night, looking straight ahead. His hands in his pockets. He could see his breath forming in little clouds.

Simon stares ahead, eyes seemingly unfocused despite his words. His face remains unreadable, but his body language eases subtly; the tension dissipating as he continues walking beside him. He likes it when Soap uses his name. Likes that he was the only one daring to do so. The only one Ghost allows to. “Me too, Johnny.” His voice is soft, almost too quiet to be heard. His eyes flicker towards him for a moment, then they quickly return to staring ahead, as if he hadn’t heard his reply. Johnny notices the way Ghost's eyes scan his surroundings constantly, the way his footsteps never falter or stumble. Despite everything else, Ghost was a soldier above all.

They continue to walk in silence for a while. But the little chatterbox just couldn't shut his mouth. The alcohol loosening his tongue further. He smiled faintly. "Shame there's this unspoken rule in the force..."

That brought attention to his lieutenant. “Which is?” He speaks without looking at him, but he sounds intrigued. The conversation has broken him out of his reverie of quiet thought earlier and he’s not trying to hide it. His gaze turns to Soap, his eyes seemingly a bit sharper than usual as he stares at him intently. His footsteps haven’t slowed whatsoever in the time it took for him to say that. It’s almost as if his body is on autopilot; every motion as smooth and precise as his stride.

"No dating within the squad." He tries to match his pace. Looking up at the same moment his eyes fall on him. Another lopsided grin of Soap before he averted his gaze back to the front. There's not much more he had to say right now. One could practically hear Simon blink at those words. His expression softens when he looks at him again, as if he’s still reeling from what he just said. After a moment, he smirks and shrugs.

“It’s an unspoken rule, sure. But…” He pauses, looks at Johnny again. His expression is still relaxed but there’s more to it than before. A certain intensity, almost. “…I’d break it."

"Would you now?" The scotsman snickers and raises an eyebrow at him. Not sure if he was all that serious. Would he just break it in general or did he actually play with that thought right now? His eyes dart between his, trying to figure out what exactly he meant.

Ghost stares back at him. Letting the question hang in the air. His gaze holds Soap's for a bit longer before he takes in a deep breath; fogging up a bit as he breathes into the cold night air. “I know the rule exists for a reason… Can’t have soldiers be distracted by ‘love’ in the middle of an operation. No tension or drama on base, between mates. No clouding of decision making.” His voice was quieter than usual. “But… We’re not on any major mission anymore.”

He looks ahead again. “There’s nothing stopping us.”

Soap's eyes still linger on his mask. Did he hear that right? Nothing stopping them? After a few beats of silence, his head turns as well. Eyes staring straight forward. Voice equally quiet and tender. "Mhm, I suppose not..." His hand closest to the tall man slides out of his jacket pocket. Just hanging by his side, trembling slightly. Is he really all that nervous right now? One can almost hear his breath catch in his throat. There’s so much tension in the air, as if every minor movement, every word is a potential match to ignite the spark of something more. He’s waiting, searching for a sign.

His footsteps slow to a stop and for a while, it’s just the sound of them both breathing.

“…”

His voice is a whisper now, as if he’s worried someone will hear him. “Soap… Can I ask you something?”

He notices his pace slowing, coming to a halt just slightly ahead of him. Turning to face him and looking up at his mask. His brows furrow at his question. He seemed so serious, yet... uncertain. "Anything L.T. What is it?" While speaking he took a step closer to him.

“I…“ Simon stops himself. As if reconsidering whether to ask what’s on his mind. He sighs slightly, his gaze on him, voice so soft even the gentle sounds of the city and environment around them seems to be muted somehow. “Nevermind. Forget it.”

A second passes by… And then he speaks again.

”No, wait…”

He shakes his head, as if trying to clear his mind. It’s like watching a person in the middle of an internal struggle.

"Simon..." Soap sees the struggle in his eyes. His hand lands on his friends upper arm in a reassuring gesture. Lightly squeezing it. "It's okay... No pressure, relax..."

Ghost glances down at the hand on his arm, staring at it for a moment. As if the slightest bit of human contact can cause him to become overwhelmed with emotion. His other hand reaches out, placing it on top of Johnny's. And then… he’s pulling himself into you. Soap knows from experience how careful and meticulous this man usually is with everything he does. Yet, right now, as he leans into him… He seems almost vulnerable. An awkward moment of silence stretches between both. Simon's gaze meets his again, his eyes searching for something. Soap wraps his arms around him. Embracing him in a hug. It was rare he accepted such close contact. Let alone initiate it. For a long while he actually was the only one allowed to physically touch him. With time he opened up to Price as well, who mostly gave out pats on the back. And Gaz with his fist bumps and side hugs.

Soap leans into him. His arms barely able to completely fit around him. He closes his eyes, enjoying the warmth as he didn't notice before how cold it actually has gotten. Ghost's arms come around him as well, his embrace firm and secure. Their bodies molding against each other. Ghost takes in a deep breath and the other can feel his chest rise and fall ever so slightly against him. His expression is a mess of emotions.

The tall man remains silent, content to just hold Soap in his arms for a while. A soft sigh escaping his lips.

“Johnny…”

That’s all he says, and there’s a lot implied in that one word.

"Simon..."

His name comes out as a whisper. Not wanting to break much of the silence. The world around them seems to freeze as snow slowly begins to fall and settle on the ground, trees, park benches. Being illuminated by the street lamp they stood under and pale moonlight peeking through the clouds. Soap leans backwards ever so slightly. Tilting his head to look up at Ghost. How tiny snowflakes get caught on his pale lashes. Being almost hypnotized by his eyes. His half lidded gaze. One of his hands rises to brush away some of the snowflakes that had gathered on Johnny's face. The other remains around him. A quiet moment passes, as they both just stand there together, enjoying the company. The snow falling around them. Ghost glances down at him for a moment and he can feel his gaze lingering on his lips. His mind races, wondering what he’s looking at. Or thinking. Then realizing. He could kiss him right now and maybe he wants to.

Both of Soap's hands slowly come up to his face, trembling. Fingers tracing the edge of his balaclava. "...May I?"

Simon stares at the hands as he raises them to his face. His expression is completely unreadable through his mask. The sergeant's heart races, adrenaline surging through his veins. He wants to do it. Why is he waiting for him? Just do it. Just…

As if reading his thoughts, Ghost slowly nods, his expression becoming more tender. "....Go ahead." His voice is a soft whisper, barely audible under the sounds of the snow and wind outside. Soap's fingers run along the edge of his balaclava once more, feeling the rough material and warm skin beneath. He takes his time, slowly sliding it up. He didn't push his luck though by overstepping any boundaries. Moving it just up to his nose. Revealing his jawline and lips. He can see how pale his complexion is, in a stark contrast to his own more tanned skin. Blue eyes wander over some faded and some deeper scars. His thumb lightly stroking over the bottom half of his cheek, the corner of his mouth. His lips are full and slightly pink. Johnny's fingers can feel the soft, warm breath against them. He was beautiful.

His gaze trails to the older man's eyes once more. As if silently asking for yet another permission. To see if this really was okay. Their eyes meet and Ghost stares at him with intensity. There is no need to ask for permission anymore. He’s looking at him with nothing but tenderness and longing.

Soap swallows, nervousness eating at him. His heart beating faster against his ribcage. Stomach twisting and turning. Instead of pulling his wide frame towards him, he gets on his tiptoes. Just a little. Enough for his lips to meet Simon's who leans down slightly. It only takes a few seconds for him to fully adapt to the height difference between them. Strong arms tighten around him. As if holding him tight enough will stop him from ever going away again. As if he never wants to let him go. As his big arms hold him close, he could've melted in an instant. He feels safe. Finally at home.

Ghost kisses him with an urgency that might’ve been reserved for life-or-death situations. Not the love and tenderness he’s showing now. Soap's eyes flutter close immediately. Giving into the moment completely. Enjoying his surprisingly soft, plush lips on his. The faint taste of beer still lingering on them. Mixed with his very own note. Simon's lips part ever so slightly and his own follow suit. His tongue flicks against his in an experimental gesture, as if testing the water. He gently pulls Soap in closer, his arms holding him tighter. And the sergeant's arms are now wrapped around Ghost's neck. Holding onto him just as much as he pressed close. He feels safe with him, in ways that words couldn't possibly describe. Their kiss deepens, becoming passionate and aggressive. Tongues exploring inside each other's mouths, teeth grazing against lips. Their breathing is quick, ragged. Barely able to hold themselves back anymore. Senses clouded not only by the booze from earlier but now with so many more sensations. It is intoxicating.

His tongue moves against Johnny's quickly. It feels like his passion is increasing with each passing second. Like something inside of him has broken free, releasing all of the pent-up emotions he’s been storing within himself. The embrace becomes more forceful; pressing their bodies together tightly. Soap begins to feel dizzy, almost overwhelmed by the rush of sensations running through his body. And then, Ghost pulls away from him gently… Slowly, reluctantly, letting go. His breathing slows a bit, though his chest is still heaving as if he’d been running a marathon.

Soap immediately takes a deep breath as well. Looking up at him as his eyes open again. Chest moving rapidly, lips curling into a grin. He lets a few moments pass before whispering. "You know... I think I'm okay with breaking rules here and there..."

Simon smiles warmly, his expression a complete contrast to the intense way he was just looking at him a moment ago. He still holds that loving gaze but now he seems like he’s content in the present moment; as if nothing else in the world matters. He even relaxes his grip, letting a hand slip off of him for a moment. “I second that...” His voice is softer now, the husky tone gone away. He lets his eyes trail towards Soap's mouth again, his hand slides back onto his cheek. Stroking it tenderly.

The smaller man lowers his balaclava again. Neatly tucking it back into the collar of his shirt. Patting his chest with a grin. "Freezing my butt off out here. Let's get movin'. I think we have the whole night to talk about a few things... And who knows..." He takes Ghost's skeleton gloved hand into his own as he starts walking again, dragging him along. His lieutenant chuckles slightly and allows him to take his hand. He nods as he lets him lead the way. The snow falling, the city sleeping… It’s all so peaceful.

Simon remains silent for a while, watching his sergeant walk in front of him. He seems like a different person now; the soldier who could barely show any emotion, who spoke in short, curt sentences and kept himself closed off, is now replaced with a man who smiles like a boy who’s gotten everything he wanted this christmas.

He still looks at Soap with tenderness, though his eyes are now filled with love.

Simon Riley was a human with emotions after all. He was more than the murderous beast the military made of him. He was more than The Ghost.

But most importantly.

Simon Riley was in love with John MacTavish

[selencgraphy]

— 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄: but if you decide to, i'll ride in this life with you (i won't let go 'til the end)

PAIRING: jake seresin x f!original character

TAGS: nightmares, mentions of alcohol, brief description of an anxious-depressive attack, jake struggling with his mental health, pining, maybe ooc bc i'm lowk projecting onto jake, hurt/comfort, jake and jessie endgame (finally!!), and i think that's it...?

A/N: this part is heavily inspired by lady gaga's song from the movie. it is technically mav & penny's anthem, but it is now jake & jessie's. this part also depicts jake struggling with his mental health. if you're struggling, don't be afraid to ask for help. i know how scary it can be at times, but you're not alone <3 anyways, now for the elephant in the room. we've reached the end... it's been two years since i started writing for this fic and man, it's been a ride with the whole reboot and all. i appreciate every one of you who've read this series, whether you were here pre-reboot or are just now finding it. this may be the end of the main series, but i will def be writing for them again. my requests are always open as well! tysm and happy reading!

WORD COUNT: ~3.1k

previous part || masterlist

The mission had irrevocably changed everything. Promotions from Lieutenant to Lieutenant Commander ran across the board and against their troubled assumptions, they weren’t sent back to their original squadrons. Instead, the Daggers became an official and permanent team, flying missions like their first if needed and instituted as Top Gun instructors alongside Maverick, who Cyclone kept in service despite his prior opinions about the captain. On paper, all of their lives seemed to be going in the best direction possible—but typed-up documents couldn’t account for the things the eye couldn’t see. Everyone had gotten home safe—Jake had made sure of that. So why did his sleeping conscience keep telling him differently?

Most nights, his dreams were plagued with images of an F-14 exploding. At first, it had been who it originally was inside the cockpit: Maverick and Rooster. He’d managed to send his own plane’s missile in time to save them, but what if he had been a second too late?

Then it changed one night. Rooster’s cries as they flew upwards were replaced by someone else's voice—one he knew all too well. It was her in the cockpit. Every night that a nightmare jolted him awake, he’d woken up in a cold sweat, his breath heavy as he struggled to figure out what scenario that his sub-conscience showed him was real. But nights like these came with the job. He was bound to have nightmares like that. Throughout his career, not once had he ever been afraid to fly, so when his hands slightly trembled when he settled into his jet before a training exercise, he just shook it off. 

Then he was suddenly 10,000 feet in the air. He remembered that his wingman today was Rooster—that they were meant to train the new recruits. What he wasn’t sure about was whether the gap in his memory between when he got into the cockpit and now was because of muscle memory or something else entirely. As Rooster’s voice droned over the comms system, he sat in silence—a silence that didn’t go unnoticed by his wingman. “Hangman, you good?”

“I’m good, Rooster,” he responded, hoping Rooster didn’t notice his hesistance. “Let’s just show these newbies how it’s done, yeah?

Bradley had heard that response so many times over the years, and it had always been said quickly and laced with arrogance—like a reflex. So the small waver in Jake’s voice and the extra second that it took for him to reply threw Bradley off. Before he could press him about it, Jake yelled out. “Fight’s on!”

It didn’t take the pair long to get tone on the newbies they had in the air, sending them back to base with them following behind them. Jake took note of the small ache in his chest as he flew, but it had been a few weeks since he had been up in the air. A small part of his knew something wasn’t right, but he just kept telling himself it was just his body reacclimating to the conditions. He was becoming friends with the rest of the squadron, had just gotten a promotion, and was finally setting down roots somewhere. Things were perfect. 

There was that word again. Perfect. Perfection. To be flawless or without flaws. His flight with Rooster and the new recruits went off without a hitch, so why did he feel like shit? 

Then it happened again. And again. And again. When he walked into the locker room and found it to be empty, he let out a small sigh of relief and took a seat in front of his locker. What’s wrong with him?

Wiping the sweat off of his face, he kept his hands on his forehead as he rested his elbows on his knees. The little droplets of tears that fell to the floor beneath him went unnoticed. Why was this happening? He should be fine—he is fine. No one had died, so why did his chest hurt so much like someone did?

He had closed his eyes just for a second, but that was all it took before his own mind betrayed him. Thoughts berating him about all of the what ifs. So caught up in his own head, he didn’t hear the door open. It wasn’t until footsteps clicked closer to him did he quickly try to compose himself. “Hey, Hangman,” Bob greeted, opening his locker.

“Hey Bob,” Jake managed to spit out as he tried his best for his voice not to crack.

“We’re heading over to the Hard Deck later for Mickey’s birthday. He meant to tell you earlier, but he said he couldn’t find you anywhere,”

Jake cleared his throat in an attempt to keep his composure in Bob’s presence. “I’ll be there. Thanks, Bob.” The WSO quietly gather his things and made his way out, giving Jake a firm pat on the shoulder as he passed him. When he pulled into the parking lot of Penny’s bar, he was surprised to see everyone’s cars already occupying the spaces near the door. As he walked in, he was met with the sight of party streamers draped across the ceiling, a banner strung up by the dart board that said, “Happy Birthday,” and the squadron gathered by the pool tables—their usual spot. Penny spotted him as she walked out of the backroom with a crate of beer, greeting him immediately. “Hi, honey.”

“Hey, Pen,” he replied, following her to the bar. He took a quick glance at the group across the way before looking back at Penny. “If I’m not mistaken, this place doesn’t officially open for another 30 minutes,” he started, Penny humming in response to let him know that she was listening. “So why does Fanboy already have a beer in his hands? You’re not giving him a pass just because it’s his birthday now, are you?”

She shot her head around to look over to the pool tables, a look of confusion on her face that quickly transformed into amusement at the sight. “He did not get that from me,” she said with a chuckle before going back to whatever she was doing.

“Jake, get over here,” Jessie exclaimed. Trudging over to where his best friend stood with a pool stick in her hand, he greeted her with a smile.

“Hey, you. Didn’t see you at work today,” she commented as she pulled him into a hug.

Yeah, because I had a panic attack. “Guess you just weren’t looking hard enough for me, Dice,” he said instead. She pulled away to give him a good once over, and Jake’s heart rate spiked. The couple seconds she took felt like an eternity as his voice argued with himself in his head. Get yourself out of this now or she’s gonna see right through you.

“Fanboy,” he shouted over her shoulder, causing Mickey to turn at the call of his callsign, his cheeks already a rosy shade of pink. “Happy birthday bud,” he greeted, subtly prying himself away from Jessie so that she couldn’t get a read on him. There was no need for her to worry about him, but his attempt was futile.

As Jessie watched Jake make his way over to the birthday boy, her face scrunched slightly with worry. He never really called her her callsign unless they were up in the air? She was so caught up in her worries about her best friend that she barely noticed Bradley come to stand next to her. “You okay?”

“Hm?” she hummed, eyes lingering on Jake for a second before turning to address Bradley. “Yeah, I’m good.”

When he scoffed, her brows knitted. “What?”

“You two,” he paused, glancing between her and Jake. “Are so alike that it’s scary sometimes.”

She chuckled, thinking he was teasing. “We’ve been friends for over a decade, it’d be scarier if we weren’t alike in some way.”

He gave her a look, causing her face to fall flat. She knew what Bradley was trying to get at. “We’re… happy like this, Brad. We always have been.”

“Maybe that was the case then, but things are different now,” he tried to reason but was immediately shut down.

“We’re here to celebrate Fanboy’s birthday, Bradshaw, so let’s celebrate, hm?” Bradley’s face fell at how easy it was for her to close herself off and put on a face. He only had tiny glimpses between the lines of what he knew of Jake and Jessie’s history, but that had been all he needed to fit the puzzle pieces together, or so he thought.

By 9 o’clock, Jessie had had enough of Jake’s insistence that he was fine. Growing up with Jake Seresin, she knew how to read him. There wasn’t much he could hide from her anymore. She knew everything there was about him. She knew his tells. It was obvious something was bugging him, and sbe knew just what to do to make him feel better even if he didn’t want to tell her. “Hey,” she whispered as she leaned next to him against the bartop.. “Let’s get out of here.”

Jake’s eyebrows furrowed as he turned to her and then at the party behind them. “What? We can’t just leave.”

“Half of them are already piss drunk,” she commented matter of factly. “Do you really want to be D.D. to all of them?”

He debated it for a second, as he looked at his now wasted squadmates. Bradley, Nat, Reuben and Bob all were sober. They could handle the other ten of them on their own, right?  “Okay. Let’s go.”

As Penny handed Jake’s card back to him, she reminded him, “Amelia gets out around 4 tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there,” he replied as he lazily shoved his card back into his wallet. Jessie made a mental note to ask about that later. Unconsciously, he took Jessie’s hand in his as they navigated their way through the crowd. A cool breeze that contrasted the mugginess of the building behind them hit them in the face as they walked through the door, making their cheeks flush.

“Where to, m’lady?” he asked eagerly in a silly voice, 

“Seaport Village?” she suggested and Jake immediately agreed with her. So that was how they found themselves sitting by the Midway Museum across the Embracing Peace statue with a box of pizza in hand. They sat in silence for most of the night until Jessie spoke up as she grabbed her fourth slice.

“So… when did you start babysitting Penny’s kid?”

He laughed. “It’s not technically babysitting. I’m just picking her up from school and dropping her off at her house.”

Jake caught her smile as she took a bite of her pizza. “What?”

“Nothing,” she quickly replied, a mischievous smirk still on her face as she shrugged and continued eating.

A few more minutes passed before either of them spoke again. “You know, she’s never seen X-Men before,” he randomly comments. At the information, Jessie’s eyes widened in shock, her jaw dropping to the floor.

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m dead serious.”

“That’s just- Penny has done her daughter a disservice,” she declared, only half-joking.

“Tell me about it,” he added.

Jessie continued on. “I mean, how do people live with not ever seeing at least one X-Men movie? There’s like over a dozen of them and not one? Horrendous—actually horrendous.”

As she rambled, he looked on with adoration, nodding along as she ranted. Eventually, what she was saying started to go in one ear and out of the other. The only thing on his mind was how cute her investment looked as she went on about whatever she was talking about now and how the moonshine fell perfectly on her face. He had almost forgotten how worked up he had been in the past week, almost like she knew. He hoped she didn’t catch him looking at her like she’d hung the very moon that now shined brightly down on her. 

“What?” she asked, catching him staring. Crap. “Do I have sauce on my face?”

As she went up to swipe her mouth, he stopped her. “No, no, you’re fine. Just…” As he was about to spill his guts, images of a plane exploding flashed in his mind against his will, his face falling slightly. He shook his head, hoping she’d brush it off. Both of them turned to look at the statue before them again, unsure how to continue the conversation for the first time since they met all those years ago.

“You gonna tell me what’s been going on with you?” she asked and his heart clenched at the question. Of course she knew. She always knew, but where to even start? “If you don’t want to tell me, it’s fine,” she added. “But if something’s bothering you, you don’t have to deal with it on your own. You know I’m always gonna be here for you, Jake.” His gaze lingered on the statue in front of them before it drifted back to where his best friend sat next to him, waiting for an answer.

“I’ve been having nightmares,” he admitted. “It’s the same most nights: what would have happened had I not been there on time for Mav and Rooster? I figured it was normal. PTSD, you know? But then…” He looked up at her and found her looking at him intently, listening carefully, and it made his concerns wilt away.

“Then it… changed. Then it was you.” It was like a weight had lifted off of his shoulders—off of his chest as he said it out loud for the first time. “That night a few weeks ago when I… when you helped me. I think it’s because of the same thing that’s causing my nightmares now.”

Jake and Jessie were never people who shied away from telling each other things, but this was the first time Jessie had seen him so vulnerable. He’d always been guarded about his emotions, especially ones that weighed him down, so to see him be so open with her—that he trusted her enough to share the darkest parts of himself was moving. “I’m scared, Jess,” he voiced, the words coming out as a whisper as he tried not to break. “Scared that one day I’ll look next to me, and… and  you won’t be there.”

Her heart shattered at the confession. She remembered the night he was talking about. He had a panic attack. How long had he been feeling like this? Gently, she reached out to him, placing her hand on the one he rested between them. I’m here.

“You’re not going to lose me, Jake,” she whispered, her tone as gentle as her touch.

His face scrunched with doubt. “But what if I do?”

“You won’t,” she assured, her voice never wavering. She had taken his hand into hers now, squeezing it with conviction. Jake took a deep breath at the sentiment, warmth spreading through his body as he let her words settle into his head. Seeing him tear up, she surged forward and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry you thought you had to deal with this alone.”

He buried his head into her shoulder, squeezing her tighter as they basked in each other’s embrace. Leaning back, she carefully brought her hands to his cheeks, pulling him down to place a chaste kiss to his forehead before pulling back to study his face. Running a hand through his hair, she barely missed the way his eyes studied her own face, but it wasn’t long before she caught him and did the same thing.

As they locked eyes under the soft moonlight, the air between them shifted. The walls they’d put up to prevent themselves from ever crossing this line collapsed one by one as they grew closer to each other. The pull was familiar—one they had felt a long time ago but resisted. But things are different now. “I love you,” he blurted out. “I’m in love… with you.” Her cheeks reddened, and she took in a deep breath like she hadn’t been breathing—as though his words were what allowed her to breathe again.

“I have been since you bumped into me on the first day of school,” he continued, his heart racing now. She smiled, and Jake couldn’t help but think how beautiful she looked—how beautiful she always looked. “I know I haven’t always been the greatest person. I’m arrogant, I’m reckless, and I push people away when things get hard—I push you away. But despite all of that, you’re still here. You stayed. Even when I didn’t deserve it.”

Her hands cupped his cheeks, gently wiping the stray tears that fell with her thumbs. “You deserve every bit of good that comes your way, Jake. Even me and I am not going anywhere.” Even after he’d confessed, she wanted—no, needed to be sure. “Can I… kiss you?” she asked gently.

He nodded softly and let out a breathy, “Yeah,” before they finally met in the middle. Despite what the movies would say, there weren’t any sparks. No, as their lips met it felt right—like coming home. The kiss was delicate as their lips pressed against each other, molding together in a way that felt like it was meant to be. Gaining confidence, Jessie deepened the kiss, pouring all of her love into the act.

When they finally pulled away, he leaned his forehead against hers, both of their eyes remaining shut as they breathed each other in. “I love you too,” she professed. “Ever since then.”

He leaned forward to sneak in another kiss, a smug grin on his face as he pulled away and hummed with content. “Could’ve been doing this all this time?”

A mirroring grin grew on Jessie’s face at his question. “Don’t get too cocky now, Hangboy.”

His eyebrows raised in intrigue at the new nickname. “Hangboy?”

“Mhm,” she cheekily hummed, biting her lip before gently placing her lips on his once again, Jake grinning into the kiss. He could get used to this.

bonus:

The feeling of her phone buzzing repeatedly in her back pocket caused her to reluctantly pull away, Jake groaning in disappointment. As she pulled her phone from her pocket, the screen lit up with text messages, all from Bradley.

Roo: where'd you go??? Roo: jake's gone too, is he with you? Roo: oh my god he's with you isn't he Roo: please tell me he's with you Roo: hellooo??? Roo: fine don't answer me wtv...

"Who is it?" Jake curiously asked, trying to peer over to look at the screen.

"Just Bradley."

"What does he want?"

"Nothing. He was just letting me know they got everyone home," she lied, sending Bradley a quick thumbs up and putting her phone on silent before placing it down. Jake's eyes narrowed, but he quickly shook it off as she leaned in once again.

Roo: you better update me tomorrow Roo: don't do anything i wouldn't do!!

A/N: ending off in true romcom fashion with a kiss!! if you didn't catch it, tiny aspects of the ending were inspired by one of my fav movies, set it up, if you really read into it ;) i hope you enjoyed reading this series as much as i did writing it. again, my requests are always open for ideas! <3

the playlist || taglist: @dempy @bellaireland1981 @princessashley99 @whateverbagman @blairfox04 @blue-aconite @captainmoonknight (some ppl were tagged bc i remember ygs from the og posts & thought i'd update yall! lmk if you don't wanna be tagged anymore!)

[reblog-house]

The Mail Service Mess

Written for Hermit-a-day-May, day 11: Pearlypop!

Wc: 1013

Ao3: Here!

Pearl looked in pride at the board displaying the names of hermits. Yet again one more hermit with a new mailbox. Soon, the whole server would have one! The board was already starting to look bright. 

With a smile on her face, she adjusted her messenger bag and turned around. 

Chaos.

The post office was littered with shulker boxes in item form. Across the floor, her desk, everywhere. They kept pouring down in a stream like a leaky tap.

She stood in shock for a moment, mouth agape, before her cleaning lady instincts kicked in. 

She’d already been subject to something like this before.

Without even thinking about it, she started picking the boxes. They quickly filled her inventory and she started stuffing them into her bag, but it somehow wasn’t enough. Just how many shulkers were there? When she thought she’d gotten everything and nothing would despawn, a new set poured in. 

“Come on, come on,” she said as she looked for an empty chest to use. “There we go!”

Her heart was racing and her body shook with adrenaline as the fear of items despawning set in. 

The worst part was, she wouldn’t be able to tell if anything despawned, or if they had already started despawning before she turned around. Just how long ago did the mess start for it to get that bad? What were these people even sending?

She felt the temptation to peak into at least one of the shulkers, to know what started this mess, but no. She contained herself. It wouldn’t be professional of her, and she had to deal with this mess, anyway.

Soon, the shulkers stopped raining. Finally. She sighed, but it wasn’t over yet. It wouldn’t be until all the boxes were well taken care of.

The second double chest filled up and she scrambled for wood for a new one.

Two and a half.

Two double chests of mail and a half. 

She really wasn’t looking forward to sorting all of these and resending those with clear addressees. No one had warned her this could happen. Not Etho nor Tango. Now she wished there was a way to put the stamps directly on the shulkers and still have the system functional. It would make… all of this much easier.

What were even the normal procedures for events like this? Should she send a message telling the hermits to reclaim all their lost packages — both those they expected to receive and those they’d sent? How would she know they weren’t lying?

No, she trusted her hermits. It would be fine. And if she caught anyone stepping out of line, they’d receive a big talking to. Her team would back her up if needed, but she could stand her ground.

But first things first, they had a bug to fix before it got worse. 

She pulled out her comms and sent Etho a message. He was online.

<PearlescentMoon> Hey Etho! 

<PearlescentMoon> I really need your help at the Post Office

<PearlescentMoon> I don’t know what happened 

<PearlescentMoon> Please hurry

She pocketed it and set to work.

As she waited for a reply, she prepared two extra double chests for sorting purposes, and took out from the system a first shulker box. Better start sorting: those with clear recipients, those with clear senders, and those with neither.

Despite feeling uneasy, the only way to check for that was by opening the packages.

The first box only had two items: a flower, and a sheet of paper. She tried not to read the contents of the letter, focused instead on checking for a signature, even if it was just an initial.

It was hard not to read the words sprawling all over the page. 

‘you make my day x’

She awed and then closed the shulker box. There was nothing that indicated to whom it was addressed or the owner, so she sadly had to place it in the ‘unknown’ chest.

She went on to the second package.

Again, a flower and another sheet of paper.

‘always in my mind x’

Okay, another one of those.

She tentatively reached for the next shulker, feeling trepidation in her gut.

This one had a signed book and a Cleo stamp. Okay, she knew exactly what this was about. She should probably not be returning to Cleo their own mass-produced spam mail, but… might as well.

The next one, a single Mumbo stamp with text written on it.

Definitely from Grian. She didn’t have to check.

Cub’s Horn of the Month Club…

A chestful of valuable items with a signed book, addressing the recipient…

For a moment, Pearl wished it was addressed to her.

“What seems to be the problem?”

Pearl jumped. 

“Etho! Don’t do that!”

He shrugged. “You were the one who asked me to come. I was just following your orders.”

She cleared her throat. “Yes.”

He tilted his body and stepped back, hands in the air. “Woah, Postmaster Pearl… looking through someone’s mail? I never would’ve thought that of you.”

Pearl rolled her eyes light-heartedly.

“Look into those chests and you’ll understand the problem,” she said, depositing the package in its proper place.

He stayed dead quiet until she shut the chest.

“Pearl…?”

“Yes, Etho?” she asked sweetly.

“What is this?”

“Oh, the machine broke, is all.” She kept up her light tone. “Shulkers went flying everywhere. These aren’t even meant for us!”

Clear panic colored Etho’s face. His eyes drifted to the collection of chests. 

She crossed her arms and tilted her head expectantly.

“That’s… That’s not supposed to happen.”

“So go and get it, then!” She shooed him. 

He scrambled, and Pearl slumped. Oh, she was not looking forward to this.

The next shulker she opened had another sheet of paper and a rose.

The little x at the end, the useless mail spam with no way of knowing who sent it, Iskall buying a stack of Joel stamps and probably more since she last checked the stock…

Oh, Iskall…

She closed the box and opened her comms.

<PearlescentMoon> Iskall

<PearlescentMoon> A word

[islandtarochips]

Bestieeeeee!!!!

What if one day Alicia and Kanoa are on a mission and when they have the objective captured, the person says something about Tiala? Like, for some reason, the person knows about Tiala's kidnapping and threatens to do it to her again. Can we see Kanoa's reaction 👀?

(Alicia simply turn off comms without a word as soon as the person says that, btw)

Well I'll be damn...*cracked my knuckles* Let's put it in a short one shot shall we?

⚠️TW: Might mention something SEXUAL, THREATS , KIDNAPPING and PHYSICAL VIOLENCE⚠️

Words: 2109

It was a hot afternoon, the two Captains were on a mission with their team. But in different areas. These two had already captured the objectives of the drug trafficking. And they’re trying to make him TALK.

“Alright, we don’t want to get this messy but you need to tell us where the NEXT location of your stash is.” Kanoa demanded as he was standing in front of the man.

This enemy that they have caught had gotten his hands tied on the arms of the metal chair. The three of them are in a small abandoned shack. Hardly anyone came in there so Alicia had suggested that this will be the best place to be a safehouse for them.

The man just glared at the male Captain and scoffed. “You will NEVER get the info out of me you pendejo.”

Alicia glared at this Mexican man as she took a step forward. “WATCH it or I’ll cut your tongue out.”

Kanoa signaled Alicia for her to stop before hearing this man laugh.

“DO it. I would LOVE to see you TRY.” He started to grin at the two captains.

“Noa? Is everything alright?” It was Tiala calling through the comms. Checking up on her brother and Alicia.

The Samoan Captain started to press his comms. “Leai. Na te le o tau mai ia i tatou.” He could hear his younger sister sigh as they both talked about trying to find something to make him spill the intel.

While Kanoa and Tiala were talking in their native language. It suddenly got this enemy’s attention.

“Ah. You must be SAMOAN, no?”

Kanoa looked at the man on the chair. He was silenced at first. Which gives Alicia a very bad feeling when she gazes between him and the man.

“......yes.”

The man slowly grinned as he leaned forward a bit. “And I’m guessing you must be Captain Kanoa Toa. Am I right?”

Now THIS is getting more suspiciously scary.

Alicia took a few steps forward to the man as she grabbed his shirt. “HOW did you know? Did your boss tell you?”

“Woah woah woah. Take it easy, chica. Like I said, I’m not gonna tell you ANYTHING.”

Before Alicia could try to do something to him, Kanoa had stopped her and told her to calm down. Which she groaned and let go of him.

“Noa? What’s going on?” Tiala had called once again after hearing a commotion.

“E leai se mea sis, na o le tagata lea e iloa poʻo ai aʻu.”

“E ā? E FAAPEFEA?”

“I don’t know. But we still need time to find out where these drugs are. How is your end?”

Tiala sighed as it went to show she had bad news. “Not good. Luke and I are on the dead end with another empty building. Blast, Nigel and Alexander had found nothing as well. It’s like they’re moving it somewhere FAR away.”

Kanoa was starting to get puzzled at this. “That’s why we’re TRYING to get him to talk.”

“Ha! Good luck with that, amigo.”

“Shut up you.” Alicia had warned him as she gave him a death glare. Oh how much she wanted to PUNCH this guy.

But this Mexican man just kept on grinning at the two Captains. Doing their hardest to make him talk. “You can try making me talk all you like. But it will NEVER take you anywhere. Who knows, they might even have to kidnap your sister again after all of this.”

Alicia’s eyes went wide after hearing this as she turned her head to see Kanoa was just standing there. Seeing him frozen as he was facing his back from them. 

“Hello? Noa? Are you there? Alicia, what’s going-“

Alicia quickly turned off her coms since she doesn’t want ANYONE to hear this. She was silenced for a few seconds before walking over to Kanoa. “Noa?” She then saw her friend had ripped his earpiece off and threw it on the ground.

Kanoa was just staring at this man. Ignoring Alicia’s existence. “What did you say?”

The man just smirked at the Captain as he continued to talk. “You heard what I said. And you might wanna rethink your decision, amigo.”

“Or WHAT?” Kanoa said as he took a few steps forward.

The enemy had smirked widely with Kanoa stepping forward. “Or else your little hermana will go through that SAME fate. I even heard that she’s very FUN to play with.”

Alicia was starting to feel her blood getting cold after hearing this. Then she witnessed Kanoa grabbing the man’s shirt as tight as he can grip on. Almost lifting the chair with him off the ground. “Noa-”

“What the FUCK did you just say you MOFO?”

“What? You’re deaf already? HA! Okay. Let me say this ONE more time.” This Mexican man started to look into the Captain’s eyes. “Once my boss’ men start looking for your team. And find your pretty sister in that area. I’m sure that she’ll have a GOOD time with us while you and your team are DROP dead-”

Before that man could finish his sentence, Kanoa had already punched the man in the face. While Alicia was just standing there. Of course, she wasn’t surprised at how Kanoa can punch. But seeing him knocked out that man and made him fall down with the chair he’s being tied on. It’s unexpected.

Kanoa tightened his fist as he glared at the man who was laying on the floor. He walked over and knelt down on one knee while grabbing a full fist of the enemy’s hair. Pulling his head backward to see his face with a bloody nose. “HOW do you know about this huh? Was it your BOSS?” He punched his face again causing his lips to bleed. “TELL ME!”

The man groaned as he spat the blood on Kanoa’s face. “V-Vete a la mierda…”

Kanoa had turned him away a bit as he got spat on with blood. He closes his eyes, getting annoyed before looking at him again. He pushed his head down before getting up and started to untie him.

Alicia started to question what Kanoa is doing. “Kanoa, what are you doing?” She watched him untying their objective before seeing him dragging the man away from the chair and took him outside. “Noa?” She quickly followed him outside.

Kanoa had kept dragging this man before dropping him on the ground. Almost 3 feet away from the house. As he continues to walk further down to where the sticks are at.

Alicia followed outside as she stopped to see Kanoa picking something off the ground. “Kanoa, what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer.

Soon both the man and Alicia saw him pick up a long big stick. As he was examining it and walked back to the enemy.

She doesn’t know what he was doing but she did see that the end of the stick has its sharp edges. She started to feel her guts telling her something. Something BAD is going to happen. “Noa…?”

Kanoa didn’t say anything but just kept walking up to the man. He kicked him upward to face him.

The man groaned as he looked to see Kanoa with the stick. “T-Tch…what are you gonna do with that huh? BEAT me with it? Hehehe…”

Kanoa didn’t respond. But instead he lifted the big stick up as he pointed the sharp edge down.

And with that sight in front of the enemy’s eyes he started to feel his vein run cold. “W-Wait…WAIT!”

He started to scream in pain, feeling that sharp pain from the weapon on his leg that the Captain had used.

“GAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!”

Kanoa had pulled it out before piercing it down on his other leg. Causing another painful scream from the enemy.

Alicia was just standing there in shock to see Kanoa like this. Seeing him piercing over and over again. From the enemy’s legs to up to his waist. Kanoa had also pierced his knees without hesitating. Seeing him stabbing the man with brute force and faster pace. As if he was killing an animal.

While Kanoa is stabbing the enemy. His mind started to flash into the image of his sister. Has bruises and scratches on her.

Remembering the cry from her when he tried to hold her. Remembering her crying voice of her telling him to not touch her or even come near her.

Everything that had happened to her…is all because of men like THIS one.

“GAAAAHHHH! STOP! PLEASE!” The man started to beg.

But Kanoa did not listen. He kept stabbing his legs and waist

Alicia had started to feel Kanoa was no longer there and she knew she needed to stop him. “Kanoa…Kanoa stop it. He had enough.”

The Captain didn’t hear her as he was still stabbing the man. Hearing his screams is the only thing he COULD and CAN hear.

She took a step forward and was slowly reaching out to him. “That’s enough Kanoa.” She started to feel like she’s losing him. “Kanoa ENOUGH. KANOA!” Then she started to quickly stop him by grabbing his arm and pulled him away. “KANOA THAT’S ENOUGH!”

Kanoa snapped his neck at her before pushing her off. Alicia had stumbled back and was giving him a shocking expression. Not only because of him pushing her away but seeing his face. His eyes. His body motion.

For a second there, she could see that Kanoa is no longer there. Physically he is but…the soul in his eyes is not. Only the ANGER she could see. Alicia put her hand out to him and tried to talk to him.

“Kanoa…listen to me. We need him ALIVE. We need the INTEL. I know you’re upset that he triggered you but you need to STOP. Right now. He suffered enough.”

Kanoa was just staring at Alicia with his eyes soullessly but he turned back to the man. Seeing him shaking in pain and mostly in fear.

“P-Por favor…” His words started to shake when he spoke and seeing his tears flowing down from his red eyes.

Kanoa was just staring at this man emotionlessly. Before raising the stick up again.

“NO! PLEASE!” The man begged as he closed his eyes embracing another stabbing pain. But…he felt nothing. As soon he opened his eyes and saw Alicia had gotten ahold of the stick.

She tried to get Kanoa’s attention. “Kanoa! LOOK at me!” She saw he was still glaring at the man as she felt a bit hopeless at this. But she’s not giving up. “Noa…please…”

As Kanoa is still holding onto the stick to KILL this man. He slowly turned his gaze at her. Seeing her soft eyes as she stayed calm. Still gripping onto this weapon.

“Kanoa. I PROMISE you that your sister will NOT go through the same fate as the last time. I would never let that happen again. You will not face this alone. So please, put it down.”

When Alicia had said those words, she could see his eyes slowly to light up before he looked at what he was doing. He quickly backed away while dropping the stick.

“K-Kefe…I-I…I’m…”

Alicia then quickly walked up to him and hugged him. “I’m so glad that you’re back, Noa…”

Kanoa was still in shock but once he felt his friend’s touch. He started to remember why he snapped. He was shaken and slowly hugged her back tightly. “L-Licia…I-”

“Sssh. I got you.” She said in a whisper. Then she slowly leaned back and smiled at him. “You just go ahead and wash your face to clear your head. I’ll deal with him.”

Kanoa just slowly nodded and left the area as he went down to the river.

When Alicia saw him out of sight. She turned her attention back to the enemy with a glare.

The man was shaken seeing her glare. “I-I’ll tell you….I’ll tell where they’re taking the drugs…”

“Wise choice, amigo. And also.” Alicia slowly took a few steps before pressing her foot onto the man’s injured leg. Seeing him flinched and groaned. “Make that kind of threat again about my friend’s sister. I would be the one who will END you instead. UNDERSTAND?”

The man quickly nodded before getting carried away by Alicia. Who put him over her shoulder as she walked back to the house. Before she went inside, she looked over her shoulder to see where Kanoa had gone. Still hadn’t gotten over what she had seen.

Never have she seen him THIS upset. I guess she understands about Kanoa and his sister’s bond.

NEVER mess with their family.

I hope this...doesn't scare ya, Witch. I'm starting to have a habit of showing violent in the story. But gotta be honest, that IS the reality of someone showing violence like that. Anyway, I hope you like this one and hopefully you're not too scared of Kanoa...and if you're wondering about the comms. Alicia had called back and apologize to Tiala for worrying her. She told them the intel but NEVER she mention about of what her older brother had done to the poor man.

[mosylufanfic]

Rebelcap Whumptober Day 2

I went with the prompt in the title because I just loved it so much!

I’ll call out your name (but you won’t call back)

The first thing he heard was the monotonous beep of a heart monitor, slowly speeding up as he came to full consciousness.

The first thing he realized was that he couldn't move his arms or his legs.

"Easy!" said a voice. "Easy, easy. It's not permanent. We had to give you a paralytic."

He stared up at the strange face hovering over his. Twi'lek, he registered. He wasn't a prisoner of the Empire, then. 

Of course, that didn't mean he was among friends, either.

"I couldn't have you thrashing around and undoing all my hard work," the Twi'lek went on.

He made a questioning noise.

"I had to  brace your back to keep the spine immobile, remove your spleen and your appendix, set several ribs and vertebrae, and pump in a lot of synthblood. You're not entirely out of the woods but you may be seeing daylight. Do you know where you are?"

Scarif, he thought, but no. That was where he'd been. 

The last thing he remembered was kneeling on the beach, Jyn in his arms, holding onto her as his internal injuries and the shock wave of the boiling ocean raced each other to kill him first. And the burning point of her kyber crystal, pressed between them - 

How he had gotten from there to here was a mystery he couldn't even begin to solve.

Jyn. Where was Jyn? Dead? Somewhere else in this facility? He tried to look around but there was some kind of brace keeping his head immobilized. All he could see was a rough pourstone ceiling, pitted and stained with age, and some of the area around the foot of his bed. That wasn't any more informational - just pourstone wall and a jumble of medical-supply crates, long expired if their labeling was anything to go by. 

"You're on Tamsye Prime," the medic informed him. 

Tamsye Prime, he thought. Why was that important? Why was that ringing the most distant of alarms?

When he tried to reach for it, pain burst in his midsection like a bomb, and a groan escaped his throat.

"Sorry, let's get these meds dialed up." A couple of clicks, and something cool began to spread through his veins from a spot in his elbow.

"What are you doing?" said a second voice. "She wanted to know when he woke up."

"I'm checking him first." A straw nudged at his mouth, and he instinctively jerked his head away. "It's water," the medic said.

He considered pulling away again, but his throat was dust-dry and a coughing fit might tear him open. And this medic didn't seem the type to poison him after working so hard to put him back together. He accepted the drink, holding most of it in his mouth to trickle as gently as possible down his throat.

"Right away, she said."

"I'll comm her in a moment."

The painkiller started to take effect, blurring the knife edges of the pain into spiky clouds. He thought about asking for it to get dialed down again. He didn't like to be fuzzy. But he wasn't sure he could form coherent words.

Jyn, he thought. Jyn.

A click and a buzz and the second voice said, "Yeah, he's awake."

"Kriff you," said the medic.

"I'm not presenting my ass to be kicked along with yours," said the second voice. 

He lost time then, awareness blurring in and out until a door swished open. The mysterious Her.

"Everybody out," said a voice. It had the mechanical edge of a vocoder, distorting it from original. 

Shuffling and murmurs as people exited. 

"Everybody means everybody," said the vocoder'd voice. 

"Kest - " the medic said in a pleading voice. 

"Do I have to say it again?"

A pause, and one last set of footsteps, and the hiss of the door. 

He scrabbled through the clouds in his head to pull his thoughts together and work out what to do. 

Was this Jyn?

The aggression tracked. But why would she be wearing a vocoder? Unless she was trying to disguise herself from whoever it was that had them. 

"You awake?" said the voice, now clearly addressing him. 

He let his eyelids flutter in confusion that wasn't entirely feigned. 

"I'm turning down your painkiller drip so you're clearheaded enough to talk," she went on. "Of course, that means the pain will come back, too. If I like what you have to say, I'll turn your meds back up."

No. It couldn't be. Not talking to him like this.

He was pretty sure.

He waited long enough for the clouds to clear to the edges and then allowed his eyelids to slide open.

"Took you long enough," said the voice.

She was staying to one side of his head, correctly guessing that with his neck braced, his field of vision was severely limited. Anything he could use to guess at age and species were disguised by the vocoder, of course. Gender, too, if he hadn't heard the pronouns the medics used.

But he had the feeling that, like many inexperienced interrogators, this one was letting the vocoder do the work and didn't realize the kind of information he could extract from what it left behind. 

Like a Core accent, there in the syllabic emphasis, the rising and falling tones of the sentences. 

Like - 

No, it wasn't her. 

He didn't think. 

"What's your name?"

He flicked through aliases like flimsicards. "Aach," he managed. "Clem Aach."

"Hmm. Where do you come from, Clem Aach?"

"Ogem," he said. Mid-Rim, far enough away from Scarif so that if the Empire were searching for them - and the Empire had to be searching for them - it might throw these people off the scent. 

"How did you get here?"

"Crash," he said.

"Crashed in what? We didn't find any wreckage. Anywhere. "

He made a puzzled face, as if the lack of his entirely fictitious spacecraft was a surprise to him as well. "Crashed," he said again. 

Silence for a moment, as if she thought he might change his mind about that. He waited it out with the patience of one who used silence like a scalpel. 

Soon, much sooner than he would have, she went on, "I was the one who found you. In a rock canyon just outside our perimeter."

"Thank - you," he managed. A little politeness sometimes went a long way, and if he played this right, they might think he was some gormless civilian in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"You were saying a name," the voice said. 

"I was?"

"That name is why I brought you back. You think we waste resources on every broken wreck of a being we find in the wastes? I want to know where you heard that name."

"Don't know," he lied. "Maybe - delirious?" That was possibly not a lie. Given the extent of his injuries, and his lack of memory, he could have been delirious. He hoped he hadn't dropped anything other than Jyn's name.

Because who else would he have been calling out for?

"Handy," the voice said. 

Stalemate. He wasn't willing to betray Jyn's identity, she wasn't willing to give him anything to go on. 

And yet, his captor had already heard him. If he admitted to it, maybe they could get somewhere. Even if "somewhere" was knowing how he'd ended up here. 

"Could - have - could have been 'Jyn,'" he said. 

Silence again. This time, calm and considering, like she was working out which of his fingers or toes to slice off first. "Jyn Erso," she said.

Hells. He had said her full name. Maybe in response to someone. That wasn't like him. 

Reluctantly - "Maybe."

The footsteps again, traversing the length of his bed. Slowly, his interrogator stepped into view. 

It was Jyn.

And it wasn't.

Her face was different - rounder in some parts, sharper in others. Her mouth was softer and fuller, most of the lines and shadows around her eyes missing, some scars vanished, only smooth skin in their place. And there was no recognition in her eyes as she looked at him. Just suspicion. 

Her eyes cut to the heart monitor, whose high beeps matched the sudden galloping pace of his heart. "So you do know who I am," she said.

He made a noise of partial assent, still staring dumbfounded. If the girl in front of him was a day older than sixteen, he'd walk into the nearest Imperial base and give himself up right now. 

"Good," she said. "We've got that out of the way." She stepped out of his line of sight again, and he stared at the ceiling, trying to feel his way through a situation that had suddenly gotten a lot stranger - and it hadn't been particularly normal in the first place. 

Tamsye Prime.

Sixteen-year-old Jyn. Clearly not going by her original name, and not willing for anyone else to hear it, even in the Partisans - for that had to be who the others had been. 

Impossible. 

The dial of the medication clicked again, two times. Three. Downward, as there was no cool rush into his elbow again. 

"Now," she said very softly. "Who sent you?"

FINIS

Inspired by the woooorrrrrrld of difference between Felicity Jones as Catherine Morland and Felicity Jones as Jyn Erso.

[ofwhimsicaldreams]

What are the best books you've read this year?

Why am I only seeing the notification for your ask now 😱 sorry about the delay dude!

So, best of books read in 2024 (thank you Goodreads for the list):

L'usage du thé: Une histoire sensible du bout du monde de Lucie Azéma: un ouvrage qui mêle histoire, géographie, récit de voyage, petite histoire dans la grande... c'était très intéressant et l'autrice a une jolie plume. Ça m'a donné envie d'aller boire du thé dans tout un tas de régions très différentes ! Et d'explorer un peu plus les différents types de thé que je bois, également... Aussi lu Les femmes aussi sont du voyage d'elle cette année.

The Rose Code by Kate Quinn: historical fiction set in Great-Britain during WWII, dealing with the intelligence service. It was fascinating, I learned a lot of things, and the author's writing style was quite pleasant to read. Loved the different characters too! From that author, I also read The Diamond Eye, which was pretty cool, but I preferred The Rose Code. I also added The Huntress and The Alice Network to my to-read pile of 2025.

La 7ème Victime d'Alexandra Marinina: murder mystery/whodunnit set in Moscow during the late 1990's, so relevant to my interests. I was so close to finding out who was the killer! But alas, no. Pretty interesting for who cares about the changes Russian society went through during the 90's. I also read L'illusion du Péché by the same author in 2023, it was good too.

The Beauty Myth by Naomi Wolf: doesn't need an introduction I think... still very actual. I find feminist theory to be quite disheartening to read lately, it feels as if things are getting worse instead of better. Depressing.

Comme un roman de Daniel Pennac: une relecture (pas lu depuis de nombreuses années cependant) qui est toujours aussi agréable ! Quelle belle ode à la lecture et la littérature... Ça commence à être daté par contre (les jeunes à banane et Santiag'), mais ça fait aussi son charme. Je me demande ce que Pennac écrirait s'il rédigeait cette ouvrage cette décennie...

Overall my hits of the year were more in the first half of the year than in the second half. There were a few disappointments, and a few books that were good, but that's it. (And I have to admit I preferred the movie to the book after having read The Martian. Matt Damon should have gotten the Oscar for that one damnit, he acted alone for most of the movie!)

[fionajames]

Hey!!! How’s the concussion? Hope it’s almost healed. How are you since the last time I’ve asked?

Requesting time: may I pretty please with a cherry on top have a story about an AU where the wars over and all our fav clones have been recognized as citizens and all have their dream jobs (what do you think they would be) please?

If that’s too hard, may I substitute it with a little story about Xi (I believe that’s his name?) the clone who got sick from one of my other requests and has a little crush on General Skywalker?

Thank you so much, hope you’re well, have a great day! -Sha 🫡

fix-it-fox au

HI SHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <3

I MIGHT DO UR SECOND IDEA LATER, BUT RN IM DEAD

ok so guys, originally i was also gonna do headcanons for all my clone ocs and i wrote a few but gave up cause its been hours.

also, yes, normal dogs and cats and their various breeds exist in this.

have some headcanons:

(writing below the cut)

Overall

The Clones get like, idk imma just say money but basically they get a bunch of money to make up for not getting paid but especially to make sure they’re not gonna end up homeless.

Most Clones live in groups as it feels unnatural for them not too.  (i feel like im doing a david attenborough documentary rn, read: ‘most clones live in groups’ in david’s voice, go check him out if you dunno him)

The Clones are then all ‘employed’ by the GAR (they’re not rlly given a chance, as the senate wouldnt fully permit them to just become civvies, padme, chuchi and bail as well as some others managed to negotiate this, which was the best why could do). This means they can have other jobs and are only called upon if there is a problem that requires them. Sorta like how the Jedi were before that, but different.

Most Clones move to planet Nay-Mets (an anagram of amnesty, i think this is funny because the definition of amnesty is ‘an official pardon for people who have been convicted of political offences’ which is kinda what the anti-clone people would think about them, so its like the clones r saying ‘we dont care what you think’ and owning it) - which I have made up. Nay-Mets is a planet of earthy terrain, with lakes and rivers running through it. Its beautiful, and had a sparse and small population until the clones arrived. The clones are careful with what they do to the land and care for it dearly. The Non-Clone civvies are very welcoming and help the Clones build homes and other things. They moved into a town that had been uninhabited for a year or so for no real reason. Only a month after the end of the war, Nay-Mets is busy and buzzing, with Clones and Non-Clones.

Bail Organa has become Chancellor and is pushing everything for Clone rights. Between him, Chuchi and Padme - plus some other senators - they’ve gotten good and better rights for the Clones.

Anakin lives with Padme on Naboo. When the war ended, he ended up telling Obi-Wan about his marriage who happily informed him the Council was changing the code to allow such things. 

Anakin is off-world when Luke and Leia are born, but feels it through the Force. He rushes home (Obi-Wan orders him to, claiming he can finish the battle by himself) and cries upon meeting his children.

Obi-Wan visits Naboo before returning to Coruscant and immediately feels the tug towards Luke, who’s Force is a blanket of warmth and sunlight. Ahsoka comes as soon as Anakin comms her (which is pretty quickly, and rather excitedly) and upon meeting Leia, she can’t help but hear the raindrops and feel the moonlight she emits to her. Luke has a special bond with Obi-Wan, just as Leia has a bond with Ahsoka. 

Even though Palpatine is dead, the events of the other seasons take place, but slightly differently. The battles that do take place (no way im specifying, i dont have the patience for that) are run by Dooku. He’s keeping the war going, but without Palpatine, it’s hard. He’s captured by Anakin, then Grievous is killed by Obi-Wan. Dooku goes to jail.

Ahsoka still gets the message from Bo-Katan and frees Mandalore. She captures Maul who is taken to trial and he is the reason that the trial against Fox finally proved him not-guilty (well, guilty but fairly).

Order 66 never happens (no shit) and the Kaminoans are ordered to de-chip every single Clone. They are taken to jail immediately afterwards. Some Clones remain on Kamino to raise the youngers, and Shaak Ti ends up taking control of the whole place.

During this time period, after the Kaminoans were arrested, the Bad Batch stumble upon a certain blonde girl hiding in a lab. Hunter - seeing no reason not to - immediately ‘adopts’ her. 

Some cadets and baby Clones leave Kamino, but these are only ones who have an older Clone who has managed to snag legal custody over them. These guys aren’t very common, as they didn’t have much exposure to older Clones, but it’s not so bad.

Shaak Ti begins to make the Clones’ training intertwined with schooling, and also give them excursions off-planet. The young Clones no longer hate Kamino like so many of their elders did.

Alongside the de-chipping process, Clones are all given a vaccine that returns their ageing to normal, meaning they get to live normal, long lives.

Oh and Ahsoka is paid for helping Mandalore, so she’s no longer broke.

Rex

As soon as the war is over, Rex goes and visits Cut.

He isn’t really sure what to do at first, as he’s put his heart and soul into the GAR, and now he doesn’t have to.

He follows Ahsoka around like a lost puppy because she’s got more experience with civilian life, and frankly, he’s missed his sister. He does help Fives whilst he’s recovering from his trauma and as a result, it's Fives and Rex bunking at Ahsoka’s place for a bit (she pretends to be annoyed but she really isn’t).

Eventually she convinces him to take Fives and Jesse (who’s been crashing on her couch and making ramen at 3am for a few weeks) and go get a house. This is because the Clones are given… like, money, because they didn’t get paid during the war.

So Rex, Jesse and Fives get a place next door to the Bad Batch (including Echo and Omega) and end up knocking down the fence separating the two houses and building a hallway between them so it’s like one big, slightly separated house.

Rex slowly begins to relax as a civilian, but still is a bit too rigid. He’s the third person to meet Luke and Leia (aside from Anakin and Padme, ofc) - first being Obi-Wan and second Ahsoka. He’s utterly honoured but immediately uneasy, as he hasn’t had much exposure to children. 

But Luke, with his mighty force connection, sees Rex and is instantly puppy-eyed, and won’t stop crying until his uncle holds him. This boosts Rex’s confidence a lot, and he finds himself visiting a lot.

Rex wears mostly hoodies and baggy/cargo pants. The first time he put a hoodie on, he did that thing where you pull it over your knees and curl up. He didn’t move for hours. Ahsoka went out the next day and put him a ton, mostly blue ofc.

His favourite hoodie is the custom one Fives got for him (although he’ll never admit it aloud). It’s blue and white - the 501st’s colours, ofc - with his jaig eyes on the front. On the back is his CT number, but with a line through it and below, his name. Fives says he wants everyone to know that they’re not numbers, they’re people. Rex cried when he heard.

Rex doesn’t get a job at first, and instead helps Fives, Jesse and Echo out in their cafe when needed. Eventually, he turns his farming hobby (something he’d picked up to use his time) into profit and attends the farmers’ market to sell products.

Echo

Echo didn’t really know when the war ended, until the Bad Batch came and rescued him. 

Even after being sweetly reunited by Fives, he struggles mentally and physically, unused to being a cyborg. 

He finds himself staying with the Bad Batch the most, because of his newly found troubles. When it comes to house-arrangements, he has a talk with Fives, and they agree to live separately, but everyone knows you can often find them in the other’s house anyways.

He ends up running a cafe with Jesse and Fives that becomes popular very quickly. His favourite thing to have is a hot chocolate with a choc-chip cookie, which he often does whilst reading a book at the counter.

Speaking of books, Echo is finally exposed to books, like, fictional books. Although others were shocked, Echo prefers fiction over non-fiction, as he likes the made-up stuff. He wishes desperately he had it growing up and with that thought, he and Shaak Ti teamed up to get the cadets and baby Clones on Kamino books.

Echo cries when he gets his custom hoodie. It’s like the rest of the Bad Batch’s with the grey, black, red and white pattern and ofc his crossed out CT number and name on the back, but there’s also a blue hand print where it was on his armour. 

He wears his hoodie everywhere, much like Rex.

Other than his hoodie, Echo mostly wears baggy long-sleeved stuff in an attempt to cover his robotic screwdriver-thing hand. Anakin offered to get someone to remove it and replace it with a prosthetic hand like his own but Echo denied it. He's proud of it, but a little self-conscious.

Echo’s a lil more shy than he was before, but still his sarcastic goofy self. He buys a bike (bicycle) when he arrives on Nay Mets, and rides it everywhere. Its not uncommon to see him riding his bike through the hills at 6am.

Fives

Because of the whole ‘Tup’ incident, Fives’ mental health has deteriorated drastically. Rex is his biggest help, alongside Echo and as well as Jesse and Ahsoka.

Because of this, he goes with Rex when he moves into Ahsoka’s apartment temporarily. They basically get two mattresses and chuck them in an empty room, sleeping on the floor (on the mattresses tho) with blankets, but its so much comfier than their bunks.

Fives starts becoming his usual self a bit quicker than expected, especially when he arrives on Nay Mets.

He ofc runs the cafe with Jesse and Echo, and is the main drink maker. He makes the best milkshakes.

After a bit, Fives ends up assembling a group of Jedi and Clones to help him get hoodies for almost all the Clones. It takes a few months but with him learning to sew, dozens of others doing the same and various people across the galaxy being paid to make them, the hoodies are distributed everywhere.

He designs his last, and its pretty simple with the blue and white markings and his crossed out CT number and name.

Like most Clones, he prefers comfy and baggy clothes, wearing mostly hoodies and baggy pants. He develops a love for beanies.

Fives takes up electric guitar as his hobby, and thoroughly enjoys it. 

When he first meets Padme, she hugs him and comforts him without a second’s hesitation. He cracks immediately and cries. She spends the entire day calming him and comforting him, and she’s self-employed herself as his unpaid therapist.

He returns to Naboo to visit Padme regularly, and his General, ofc. 

To everyones’ delight, when Leia is toddlerish age and her rebellious side is evident, Fives becomes more like himself as he assists her in getting into trouble.

Anakin and Padme don’t mind having to clean off the noticeably washable marker from the walls when Fives starts laughing again. They’re grateful he’s getting better, and that he chooses to use materials easy to clean up.

Jesse

Jesse spends the first few weeks of his civvie life going absolutely nuts in trying to experience stuff. 

He quickly realises that he has no home and ends up crashing on Ahsoka’s couch. She pretends to get annoyed at him when he constantly gets up at unholy hours to make ramen but she frankly is glad he’s doing well.

He’s the one to organise a house for him, Rex and Fives on Nay Mets.

He ofc runs the cafe with Echo and Fives, and he’s the cooking expert. He’s well known in the town for his delicious foods and alongside Fives’ excellent drinks, its what gets the cafe popular quickly.

His hoodie is the same as Fives’, but with his number and name, ofc.

It’s only been six weeks since the War ended when Jesse arrives home with a sheepish grin and a box that moves. He giddily reveals a black and blue merle mudi dog (such a cute breed, go google it, you wont regret) that he names Tundra. Tundra is rather quiet for his breed (never had this breed but during researching, it says the bark a lot, sorry if thats not true) but filled with energy and affection. 

Jesse and Tundra are rarely separated. When Jesse has work, he brings Tundra. He either sleeps on the floor whilst watching or will go out to the fenced-in area through the dog door they installed in the cafe.

Jesse adapts rather quickly to civvie life and really enjoys it. 

Kix

Kix has pretty mixed-feelings post-war.

He loves being a civvie but can’t help but find himself up late at night, waiting to attend to a wound of sorts.

At first, Kix is really anxious and uncomfortable with being aware from the battlefield. Jesse tries to get through to him but ultimately fails, as Kix needs alone time.

Anakin sees his medic in distress and tells Padme. She immediately agrees to let Kix live with them on Naboo until he can regain his footing, no matter how long that takes. 

Kix spends his almost-three months on Naboo recollecting himself and then turns to Jesse, who immediately agrees to let him move in with him, Fives and Rex. 

Kix ends up taking a job at the hospital, and instantly finds himself better footing. Its much easier for him after he takes up the job.

His hoodie is the usual but with his red medic symbol on the shoulder. He wears it as much as possibly, and thanks Fives almost daily for the gift.

When they were de-chipping, after he got his removed, Kix worked tirelessly to remove the other Clones’ chips. He was thrown a ‘thank you’ party afterwards by all the Clones he helped. 

Cody

Cody’s immediate reaction is relief.

He’s just grateful the war is over.

The first few weeks he spends living with Obi-Wan (idc if you see this as a ship or platonic, basically the embodiment of the ‘and they were roommates vine’ tbh) as he doesn’t really have any where else to go.

Eventually, he moves to Nay Mets like many others, and takes Meerrt and Vick with him. They have a room for Obi-Wan which is used a lot more than expected, but they love having their Jedi over.

Cody’s hoodie is the usual, in yellow of course. 

He spends most of his first few months reading and experiencing life as a civilian (alongside making the best cinnamon scrolls you’ll ever taste) but eventually gets a job at a kindergarten, of all the places.

Unexpectedly, Cody works really well with kids, and it really shows. He becomes an idol to a lot of little kids on Nay Mets.

Upon meeting Luke and Leia, he takes up a job as unofficial babysitter when Padme and Anakin need a break. 

Cody wears mostly sweaters and cargo pants - like so many other Clones - and a golden bracelet with a sun charm attached. He doesn’t take it off.

He also starts learning violin, and really enjoys that too.

He’s one of the first to get de-chipped, and waits until his battalion have also been de-chipped to even leave Kamino. This is mostly because Obi-Wan got annoyed when he found out Cody wasn’t sleeping out of worry.

Wolffe

Wolffe’s immediate reaction was also relief, but in a sarcastic way. Like, ‘oh we’re finally done?!’ But deep down, he is super glad.

He stays with Plo and several others from his battalion before finding a place on Nay Mets with them. Plo lives more on Nay Mets than Coruscant, just like many other Jedi do too.

When he gets his hoodie - the usual but in grey with a small wolf symbol on the front - he breaks and grins, giving Fives a huge hug. But he then blackmails him into not telling anyone he did.

Wolffe wears his hoodie everywhere, rarely takes it off. He likes the ‘not a number’ statement that comes with it.

He also wears like thick, fluffy winter coats and cargo pants a lot, with the occasional bad-ass leather jacket.

He attempts to get a job somewhere, but can’t really find one that works, so he stays unemployed. 

After a little while, Wolffe adopts a grey, male tamaskan dog (also beautiful, check it out, they look like wolves) he names Fang. Everyone thinks its hysterical he got a dog that looks like wolf.

Wolffe and Fang are also inseparable.

Wolffe finds himself enjoying hiking and does it almost daily, with Fang joining him. He finds it peaceful and enjoyable.

Fox

Fox is ofc the one who basically ended the war, or at least he majorly turned the tables.

He’s so relieved when its finally over.

He’s one of the first Clones to move to Nay Mets, and ofc Dhole, Vector, Menace, Dice and Bloodshot tag along. They live in one great big house.

Almost immediately, Fox impulsively adopts a ginger tabby she-cat he names Pumpkin. She’s a beautiful, silly cat and Fox has zero regrets in getting her.

He lets her be a very free cat as he feels bad for being any other way.

His hoodie is red and white with the usual and a fox symbol on the front. He loves sweaters.

He wasn’t really looking for a job at first, and eventually decided to stay unemployed.

Fox picks up piano as a way to calm himself, and grows to become a great pianist. He practises practically all day with Pumpkin sitting on his lap.

He regularly goes for long walks and takes Pumpkin, cause she’s that kinda cat. 

Once there was an incident in town when a guy lost it and started shooting or smth and Fox just calmly tackled him (that's an oxymoron lol) and got someone to arrest him. He was really quiet afterwards.

When he got his chip removed, Fox became a lot more quiet for a little. This was because he could finally hear properly. When he had the chip, he always heard a little voice in his head, something he now knew was Palpatine.

OK IM DONE

MIGHT POST PT 2 LATER (A FEW DAYS)

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[skylarstark4826]

Mitaka hears the page for General Hux, standing right next to him on the bridge – an unsanctioned departure from Bay Two – and then, only seconds later, the sound of an explosion booms over the comm. Sirens blare into action, and everyone tenses at their stations. General Hux winces and marches off with a flourish of his greatcoat, already calling for reinforcements to the hangar, but Mitaka has to stay and man his station. It didn't matter that he'd recognized his friend's voice over the comm, Thanisson's professional tone being erased by the roar of the explosion. He isn't allowed to leave.

When no one is looking, he tries to comm Thanisson on his personal comm, and receives only a crackle of static in return.

He worries through the rest of his shift, and then, as soon as he is able, runs from the bridge, fleeing as if chased through the ship until he reaches Thanisson's workstation. Mitaka's boots skid to a horrible stop. Debris is blasted all the way into the hallway. A jagged hole gapes in the wall like a mouth with burnt teeth, and a cadre of stormtroopers and droids are cleaning up the mess and attempting to seal off the wall that had been blown open. The loud sound of departing TIE fighters echo in through the open hole, tangling with the comms chatter, and above all of it, the high ringing in Mitaka's ears and the sound of his ragged heartbeat.

A stormtrooper pauses in their construction efforts to give him a skeptical look with a tilt of their helmet, and Mitaka motions them over with a sharp click of his fingers. "Report," he says. "I need to know, were there any survivors?"

The trooper looks one way, then the other, as if confused by the question. "I don't know, sir. Not my area. I've only been assigned to clean up the mess."

"Well, was any of the mess people? " Mitaka says, too shrill.

The trooper takes a step back. "Not when I arrived, sir. I only do repairs, not clean-up." They pause. "There was blood on some of the wreckage."

Mitaka curses under his breath, though apparently not far enough under his breath, as the trooper takes another step back. "You ought to check with the medbay, sir. They'll know more than I do."

"Dismissed," Mitaka says, tossing the command over his shoulder as an afterthought.

***

The lift and the subsequent walk to the medbay seem to take forever. Mitaka worries at his gloves. He and Thanisson have been friends for years. Nothing more, no matter how Mitaka may have daydreamed of the possibility. He'd never had the courage for it. When they met in the Academy as roommates, Thanisson was bright-eyed and naive and Mitaka was too shy and soft. They had made it through the harrowing years of school together, gaining training, becoming more savvy. By the end of their years in the Academy, Mitaka was braver, but no less shy, and he watched from a careful distance as his friend grew into an admirable young man, friendly and capable...and just out of reach.

Thanisson was not the foolish boy he once was, but he was still, in so many ways, a boy. So young. Mitaka cannot stand the idea that he would have been hurt today. He'd been so proud when Thanisson had been promoted to Petty Officer; Mitaka had obtained an illicit bottle of champagne, and they'd split it in his quarters. They'd never had alcohol before, and had both gotten quite drunk. It had made him long for the days when they were roommates, when he could be around Thanisson all the time. He hadn't appreciated it enough. Thanisson's cheeks had been flushed pink that night, and his laughter was like the bubbles in their drinks. He could have kissed him. He hadn't.

Mitaka moves faster.

When he enters the medbay, he does not do so professionally. The doors hiss open and he's panting, panicky sweat disheveling his hair. At the front desk the nurse looks surprised, then disapproving at his appearance, and he takes a moment to neaten his hair back under his hat and quiet his breath before approaching her.

"I understand there may have been injured personnel from an attack this afternoon," Mitaka says, as calmly as he can. "Was Petty Officer Thanisson among them?"

"Let me check." She drops her attention to the datapad on her desk scrolling through it, then frowns without looking up at him. "Hmm. I'm sorry, it doesn't appear he's here."

The air leaves the room without his permission. Dead. He'd died. If he hadn't, he would surely have returned the many private comms Mitaka had sent since this afternoon.

Mitaka's center of gravity abandons him and he takes a step back, barely catching himself on his bootheel. When they had graduated together, Thanisson's hair had caught the sunlight and the sunlight had caught his smile, and then Mitaka had caught Thanisson's hand in his own, something that was allowed in that bright moment of celebration. Something he had never had the courage to do without an excuse. Perhaps he had overestimated the amount of bravery he'd gained in the Academy, after all.

The nurse clicks her tongue. "Oh, yes. He's here, in room seven." She clicks through to another page, unaware of the tilting axis of the world under Mitaka's feet. "But – he may not be awake yet."

"Can I see him?" Mitaka demands.

"I will check to see if he is awake, and wishes to receive visitors," she replies, her tone frosted. When she looks up, whatever she sees on his face softens her gaze. "One moment, sir."

She returns in a moment with the sound of rubber-soled shoes and a gentle nod of her head. "He'll see you. But he's still in some pain. He may be a little bit out of it because of the medication. You won't be able to stay long."

"How bad is it?" Mitaka whispers, new fears claiming his breath. "Is – is he okay?"

She gives him a soft smile. "He'll be all right."

Mitaka follows her, wringing his hands together, and when she motions him into room seven – as eager as he'd been, he stops in the doorway.

"Thanisson," he gasps.

His best friend looks so small in the hospital bed, pale against even the white of the sheets. The harsh glare of the overhead lights wash out the blond of his hair into a thin gold halo around his head. Bandages loop up the right side of his head and cover his right arm and shoulder, and light blue bacta pads are visible under the bandages. His right arm is set in a heavy brace to immobilize it – so it must be broken. Thanisson lifts his left hand up from the coverlet, offering a weak wave, and tries to sit up.

"Hey, 'Taka," Thanisson croaks.

Mitaka rushes over. "No, no. Don't sit up. Please, don't strain yourself." His hands are trembling, and he takes Thanisson's undamaged left hand in his own, savoring its wholeness. He is embarrassed to find himself close to tears. "Are – are you okay? Are you in pain? I can – I'll get the nurse again," he says, desperate to offer anything. His eyes dart over the bandages on Thanisson's face and arm. "Gods, what happened?"

Thanisson shrugs one-shouldered, just on the left, the right held in place by the bandages. His eyes look very blue, the pupils too small from the pain medication. "I'm not exactly sure. There was an unauthorized departure from bay two – Kaplan told me to inform Hux – I did, and then..." He mimics an explosion - making a low fwoooom noise - then giggles. He drops back into the pillow, abandoning the small amount of progress he'd made towards sitting up, and his eyes slip closed. He snorts. "I blew up."

"John," Mitaka says, shocked. "It's not funny!" He's embarrassed when tears spill down his cheeks. "I thought you were dead!"

"It's – it's a little funny," Thanisson replies, still chuckling. "I blew up!" He giggles again, illicit champagne bubbles out of place in the medbay. "Why do they call it blowing up instead of blowing down, 'Taka? I was knocked down, not up."

"I don't know," Mitaka chokes. He can't seem to stop crying. "Gods, you really are high."

"That's because I blew up. Got high."

Mitaka gasps out a wet laugh in spite of himself, and struggles to wipe his cheeks without sacrificing his hold on Thanisson's hand. "John. It's not funny. You could've died."

Thanisson opens one eye, and then the other, looking startled. "Oh. Dopheld, don't cry, I'm okay. It's all right." He tries to sit up again, then moans and sinks back to the stack of pillows behind him. "Ooh. Ouch . Okay, maybe I'm not okay."

Mitaka grips his hand harder. "I thought I'd lost you."

"I think you only lost most of my right ear," Thanisson says, and Mitaka sees the threads of fear in his face, sees under the truth of his bravado and jokes that Thanisson knows he'd almost died today. Thanisson's eyes drop to the covers of the bed. "Won't be able to keep my hat very straight, now." His lip trembles, and when he looks up, his eyes are bluer than before, bright with tears. "Is – is it bad, 'Taka?"

"No," Mitaka says immediately. "It isn't that bad. I'm sure you'll be fine. And it isn't as though having a few scars isn't common around here. Kaplan has one, right on his face!" Mitaka says, drawing a line down his temple and neck where the Colonel's scar travels. "So do many members of the Order. If anything, it will be a symbol of your honorable service."

Thanisson's lips are still trembling. "Honorable service won't get me a spouse that can tolerate looking at me."

Mitaka's heart catches in his throat. Spouse. Thanisson hadn't said wife. He'd said spouse, and why does that make Mitaka's hands feel damp in his gloves? He'd never thought there was a chance that Thanisson might return his affections. "Well," Mitaka says, embarrassed by the quiver in his voice. "I certainly don't mind. Scars, that is. I think they can be very, um. Enhancing, to the right face."

Thanisson frowns, his eyes dropping back to the covers. He pulls his hand away and tries to cross his arms, then winces. "I don't have that kind of face. You've got to have a masculine face for that to work, like Kaplan. Or be big and bulky, like Lord Ren. I look young. I'll just look silly." His lips turn down at the corners in a delicate moue that tugs at Mitaka's heart.

"You won't look silly," Mitaka insists. "You've never looked silly. You've always been pretty. And you don't even know how bad it will be, yet. If the Empire could keep Lord Vader on his feet, I am certain the Order can fix one single ear." Mitaka reaches for Thanisson's hand again – he wants it back, to know his friend is alive and feel the life in his warm hand, he needs to hold it – and Thanisson lets him take it, seeming relieved. Their fingers twine together. "The nurse told me you'd be all right."

"Hmm." Thanisson slips deeper into the pillows, his eyes closed, and Mitaka stays, holding his hand, staring at their hands clasped together – Thanisson's bare, his still in his glove. He wishes he'd thought to take his glove off first, but doesn't want to risk disturbing the moment to do it now. Mitaka thinks Thanisson may have fallen asleep, but when he checks, Thanisson is looking at him out of the corner of his barely-open eyes. "You called me pretty, 'Taka."

"Oh?" Mitaka's ears feel hot. "Did I?"

"Yes." Thanisson blinks at him, then looks away, the pink in his cheeks making him look more lively than he has since Mitaka first arrived. "Did you mean it?"

"I did," Mitaka says, gathering the bravery he has. He wasn't the one that survived an explosion today - surely he has the heart for this. "You're very pretty."

"You've never said so before," Thanisson whispers. "Do – do I have to get blown up for compliments?" His eyes are wide, and what Mitaka thinks might be hopeful.

Be brave, Mitaka thinks. He'd almost lost this chance. "You – you can have more than a compliment, if you'd like," he says, proud that his voice is steady. "If you heal up and get out of here, I'll take you to dinner in the officer's lounge." Thanisson's eyes widen further. "If – if you want, of course," Mitaka squeaks. Damn.

Thanisson swallows and his throat clicks. "Dinner?"

"If. If you want." Mitaka wants to sink through the floor. What was he thinking?

Thanisson tugs on his hand, pulling him forward as he struggles to lean up, and Mitaka is startled to realize that Thanisson is trying to kiss him, and closes the rest of the distance. It is worth it to let Thanisson's hand go for this, and he does, propping himself up on one arm to stay balanced and letting the rest of himself sway forward into the demand. Thanisson's undamaged hand grabs the back of his head and pulls him down, pressing their lips together.

"'Taka," Thanisson whispers. "Am I dreaming?"

Mitaka freezes. Oh Gods, is Thanisson too high to know what he's doing? "N-no," he whispers back. "This isn't a dream."

"Oh, thank the stars," Thanisson says, and pulls their mouths back together. The press of his tongue startles a moan out of Mitaka before his tongue wakes up and he returns it. He reaches up and cups the side of Thanisson's face, cradling the soft edge of his jaw, treasuring the intact skin, the pulse thrumming against his fingertips. Mitaka scoots closer, making sure that Thanisson does not have to lean up, and allowing himself the leverage to kiss him a little harder, a little more thoroughly, his heart running wild through his chest.

"Ahem."

Both of them startle, and Mitaka's heart jerks in his chest from a high race to a dead stop when he turns to see General Hux standing in the doorway, looking both annoyed and amused. Mitaka stands from the bed in a frantic stumble that nearly becomes a fall before he's able to snap off a salute to Hux.

"Sir!"

Thanisson salutes left-handed and awkward from the bed. "Sir," he says, looking anywhere but at Hux, his cheeks bright red. Mitaka cannot help but be glad to see the return of color to his face.

"I came to see if you were well after the incident in the hangar today," Hux says. "You performed your duties admirably."

"Th-thank you, sir!" "I also wanted to offer my condolences for the injuries you sustained in the line of duty," Hux says, tucking his arms behind his back and beginning to pace. The amusement that had been in his face fades into pure annoyance. "Suffice it to say, that if it were not for the lax security measures that Lord Ren had taken with his hostage, this entire incident would not have happened. I will do my best to make sure that he is not so..." Hux's upper lip curls with distaste. "Absent-minded in the future."

Thanisson looks at Mitaka, as if for help, and Mitaka looks back at him with wide-eyed unsurety and the barest shrug of motion in the shoulder away from Hux.

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate it, sir," Thanisson says, and that seems to satisfy Hux, who gives him a terse nod.

"Very well," Hux says, moving back towards the door. He pauses with his back to them. "I'm pleased to see that Lieutenant Mitaka is so...dedicated to your recovery." It sounds like he might be smiling, or possibly sneering, but Mitaka can't tell with his back to them, and stifles the strangled noise in his throat. "Yes, sir," Thanisson squeaks. "He's - "

Hux walks away with a harsh click of his boots before Thanisson can figure out what to say, and he drops back into the pillows with a sigh, throwing his hand over his face. "Oh, my God, 'Taka. The General came to see me - "

"And we were kissing."

Thanisson raises the hand off his face. "We were, weren't we?" He smiles, shy. "Would you like to kiss me again?"

Mitaka smiles at him. "I don't know. Do you think Lord Ren will come to apologize?"

Thanisson grins. "No."

"Then I would like nothing else more," Mitaka says, and kisses him again.

After a moment, Thanisson breaks the kiss and leans back with a sigh. Mitaka should go and let Thanisson rest, but he doesn't want to leave. He fluffs the pillows behind Thanisson's head and receives a sleepy little smile for his efforts, then places a tender kiss on Thanisson's forehead in return before he moves to the guest chair, making sure to pull it close to the bed so he can take Thanisson's hand.

"'Taka," Thanisson mumbles. "You should go sleep."

"I will," Mitaka says, though he doesn't plan on leaving. "Once you do."

Thanisson laughs, a soft tumble of breath onto the blankets pulled up to his chin. "I can't believe Hux caught us kissing when I've had a crush on you since second year. Of all the times."

"Of all the times," Mitaka says, though that really isn't the part of Thanisson's statement that he's concerned about. He swallows hard. "Since second year?" "Mhm," Thanisson says, and his chin tips down as he falls asleep, his fingers going lax in Mitaka's hand.

Mitaka looks at the soft fall of blond hair over Thanisson's forehead, the way his lashes lay in velvety shadows against his cheeks, and resolves to be even more brave in the future.

Spouse, Mitaka thinks, we'd be able to share quarters again, and doesn't know he's smiling when he falls asleep, leaning against the edge of the bed, Thanisson's hand loosely held in his own.

[tailorvizsla]

A small intro to my current fic.

Title: The Diplomatic Incident Rating: M Universe: The Orville Pairings: Human f!OC x Krill m!OC Note: tfw when there is no more Orville so you decide to write a 150k+ fic so you can have a hot Krill husband

Under the cut for length. :D

The door swished open, startling her from her reverie. She managed to not drop her tea.

"Morning, Ensign," Captain Mercer said. "Did you sleep well?"

"Uh, not really," she admitted. "You?"

"Not at all," he said with a shrug. He looked down at the coffee. "You are a lifesaver." 

He grabbed one of the mugs and sat down before drinking it down. Once he appeared properly caffeinated, he spoke again. 

"Your report?"

Nia swallowed anxiously as she forwarded it to him. Captain Mercer picked up his pad and started skimming through it.

"I have read over Ambassador Crovrel's notes, and everything seems okay," Nia said. "I genuinely cannot tell what she could be doing that would be causing offense to the Za'ari. However, body language is quite important, so there may be subtle cues that she's missing or weird vibes that she's giving off, so to speak - "

"Captain, we will be rendezvousing with the Sarakev in eight minutes," came a voice over comms.

"How are we an hour early?" Captain Mercer asked.

Her stomach dropped through her feet. She hadn't even gotten through the first paragraph. She had no idea if her plans were even acceptable. What if she had made a mistake? Nia felt her heart starting to race.

"We have not altered course. The Sarakev has chosen to meet us here. They must attend to another incident."

"I see," Captain Mercer said. He gave her a look. "Well, let's go meet our guests, then."

Nia nodded in silence. She followed after him obediently, her stomach twisting tighter with each step. Commander Grayson came to join them about halfway there. She had a frown on her face, and her lips were set in a thin line. Nia noticed that her mug of coffee was much larger.

"Did you get a chance to review everything?"

"Nope," Captain Mercer said. "It should be fine."

Nia gave him a look of horror as she trotted along behind them. Commander Grayson sighed and finished the last of her coffee.

"Ensign Hreevan, could you do me a favor?" she asked. "Can you throw this into the recycler?"

"Of course, Commander," Ensign Hreevan said, giving them a curious look.

All too soon, they came to the shuttle bay, where a Krill vessel had just landed. The back ramp dropped, and a group of four Krill stepped off. A few more unloaded some boxes and crates behind them. They exchanged a few words. 

Just as quickly, the shuttle left, leaving the four individuals and a pile of crates behind. Captain Mercer stepped forward. Nia shuffled forward a step, trying her best to hide behind Captain Mercer and Commander Grayson without actually looking like she was trying to hide.

"Hello," Captain Mercer said, putting on his most welcoming smile. "Welcome aboard the Orville, gentlemen."

"Captain Mercer," said the Krill who looked like he was in charge. "My colleagues and I thank you for assisting us in our diplomatic mission."

Oh my God. The holographic videos had not done his voice justice, Nia thought to herself.

"It is our pleasure to help," he said. "Please allow me to make introductions. This is Commander Grayson, my second in command." Captain Mercer seemed less than impressed when he realized she was trying to hide behind him. "This," he said, shuffling her forward, "is Ensign Bridges, our resident expert on Za'ar and her people."

Nia suddenly felt tiny as they scrutinized her. She swallowed and tried to give them a welcoming smile. 

"Hi," she managed to say.

Their eyes met, and she suddenly felt like she could not breathe, an odd electric feeling starting at her toes and working its way up. He tilted his head in acknowledgement and diverted attention from her. Her heart thudded wildly in her chest. Her hands and knees felt oddly shaky after that brief encounter.