#space ships are meant to fly

[vroomvroomcircuit]

You pulling in made me wish your Dad pulled out

(A/N): Thank you to @foreveralbon for workshopping this fic with me with this prompt. I don't know what to do if you weren't my muse.

Summary: Charles pissed off his neighbor with his parking. Her answers are notes taped to his car window. How can evolve more out of that?

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x female!reader

Wordcount: 1.6k

🏎Masterlist🏎 ________________________

(Y/N) knows that she isn’t the most professional car parker. She should never start a career as a valet for sure. After all, she needed a second attempt on her own practical test to attain her drivers license.

But there is this one neighbor of hers. She doesn’t know what he looks like, what his name is or where he even lives. But (Y/N) knows one thing for sure: He is a shit parker.

Like, he is the worst person at parking that has ever walked the world. If he could, he probably would park his oh so expensive car onto other cars. But she tries to not let that get too close to her. After all, we just talk about parking spaces and it’s not worth getting her blood pressure up over it.

But (Y/N) found her tipping point.

Her whole morning has been a shit show. Her alarm went off, but she accidentally turned it off instead of giving herself another five minutes of sleep. Five minutes turned into 45. That meant the young woman had to rush through her usual morning routine and she is 90 % sure that she put at least one clothing item on the wrong way.

But it’s ok, she is still on time. She just needs to get out of the car par-

This is where (Y/N) last thread of patience with that neighbor snaps in two like a potato chip, crisp and unclean. This person parked the front half of his car in a way that completely blocks (Y/N)’s rear end from exiting the car in a way that does not hinder the sidewalk.

It takes a solid seven minutes to get out of her spot, trying not to scratch hers or another car. Arriving a few minutes late at work because of that and receiving a reprimand from her boss is really the young woman’s last straw. On her lunch break she does some snooping on the internet and comes across a really fine find. It’s worth the price and shipping cost to her.

Actually, she can’t wait for the week it is supposed to take to arrive at her doorstep.

But the time between that particular day and the day of arrival do fly by when you use it getting madder and madder at the dickhead that is unable to park like a normal person.

The next occurrence doesn’t take long after (Y/N)’s package finally arrives. She wanted to park her vehicle in her usual spot when Mr. Ferrari already took his and her own too. How can one person be such an asshole?

(Y/N) takes one of the business card sized cuts out of her glove box and puts it in the slit of the black car’s window. Satisfied with her work she steps back into her vehicle and looks for a different spot, ending up walking several minutes back to her apartment building, having to look somewhere farther away.

Charles can see from a distance that there is a card at his car’s windowshield. Which makes him suspicious. Surely no one thinks that he wants to sell his car for cheap, so it can’t be one of those car handler’s business cards. Maybe it’s a new ruse of thieves, trying to get him to stand long enough at his car to read it and be able to steal his car. Or they are kidnappers. Anyways, he makes quick work of putting the card into his pocket and drives off at a neck breaking speed.

When he arrives at his destination, the Monegasque pulls the piece of paper out and reads it. “The way you pulled in makes me wish your dad pulled out”, he reads aloud, laughing a little to himself.

He has to admit that he might not be the best at parking. Who is he even kidding, he would win the world championship at being the worst car parker possible. But the thought of someone getting that angered over his non-existent skills.

It’s something that makes him happy throughout his entire day. Which is his main reason to try and look how much he can piss that particular neighbor off even more.

So Charles starts parking even worse. If he also starts on the habit of watching out of his window more often now, he would claim it is just a coincidence. But something in him wants to meet that neighbor.

That person that gets more and more creative with their insults. One time they called him an obstacle to evolution. The other day the business card said something along the lines of him belonging to the asshole club now.

Another, a handwritten, note asked him not to reproduce. The neighbor even left a condom for him. This made Charles laugh so loudly, that (Y/N) looked out her opened window.

She just finished one of the worst shifts she ever had since starting that job and all she wants is just a quiet evening to come down from the stress. Just the noise of the laugh is enough to set her off again.

Seeing her handsome neighbor from under her apartment pocketing the note and condom she left just minutes earlier isn’t what she expected. Watching him opening the car, sitting down and driving off is even less on her list.

It kind of destroys her world view, realizing that hot neighbor and asshole parker are the same person. In the last couple of weeks (Y/N) started to get some fun out of the mean comments she left at the black Ferrari’s window. This also could be her chance to finally make a move on him.

The young woman waits for the brunette to return with his car and stays seated on her couch for another couple minutes, for extra measure of course. After that, she leaves the apartment building with her prepared note and tapes it to the car’s rear window.

Charles on the other side stays glued to his window as soon as he enters his apartment. He finally wants to catch the person that gets angrier and angrier each time he parks in an outrageous way in the act.

Seeing the beautiful neighbor, who lives above him, sticking another note to his car makes his heart flutter in an unexpected way. For some time now he wanted to get to know her and if everything went according to his original plan, ask her out on a date. But maybe he can now use this to his advantage.

As soon as the beautiful neighbor is back in the building Charles waits an extra couple minutes before he once again makes his way to his car.

Running over his vehicle with a pep in his step, Charles is kind of excited about what insults or threats await him now. He has to admit, he actually parked pretty decently. Or as decent as he is able to. So the note has to be at least a little bit nicer than the previous ones.

“Hey neighbor. I thought instead of shitting on you and your parking skills even more, I want you to help and get better. I may not be a driving teacher, but helping you wouldn’t make your skills worse. Just text me with the times you are available at ;)” signed with (Y/N)’s name and number.

It’s kind of funny to explain to the press later how Charles met (Y/N) and became her boyfriend.

"Yeah, well I know that my driving has become sort of a, a meme,” he answers when asked a week after his announcement on instagram, “And my neighbor wasn’t too fond of it either. So she started to leave me these really funny, but also really aggressive notes at my car. One said something like I won the inconsiderate Parker Price. Which made me quite proud.” This entices a laugh out of the journalist. “Yeah, (Y/N) has a really good way with words, I fear. But in the end she offered me some parking lessons.” Charles smiles and thinks back to them.

He had texted (Y/N) immediately and they set up a date for the lesson two days away. But they still continued to text non stop and by the time they met up, it felt like they had been friends for years.

Which didn’t stop (Y/N) raging at Charles after his fifth failed attempt of parking his car according to her instructions. “I don’t believe you anymore. With the way you park you are not from Monaco but the deepest and wildest parts of Italy! Your Ferrari seems really fitting now!” This drew a laugh out of him until she graced him with the meanest look he didn’t expect her to be able to muster up.

“How about dinner as a thank you and apology?” He asked sheepishly, trying both to diffuse the situation and make his move. Why not shoot his shot right now?

Luckily the young woman agreed.

“In the end my parking skills weren’t enough to win her over, but my charm was what scored me a second date.”

And a third. A relationship. After some more funny parking jokes and him kneeling down on one knee with a ring and the promise to take lessons to keep their future family safe he even scored himself his unexpected forever.

[ew-selfish-art]

DPx DC Au: Might as well be brothers. Young Justice hears about a regional hero disappearing, and while they've never met the guy, Red Robin's contacts say that Ra's is hunting him for afterlife/immortality related reasons.

Tim drake hates the annoying white uniform he's wearing but breaking into this place is crucial to his 24 hour plan to rescue Phantom. He'd never even heard of the guy until a week ago when Pru came to him with info that Ra's was looking into Midwest Real Estate, and then Tim stumbled down the rabbit hole of Ghost conspiracy theories until he saw an article demanding that local officials speak on the hero's absence of 10 days. 10 days was short enough that Tim might find a sign of life and well, another federal agency being hacked by Red Robin is nothing new.

So now, he's walking down the halls with these stupid fucking glasses and this stupid fucking suit while Kon listens from the comfort of the surveillance van. He takes a turn and sees the track suits that the illegally detained inmates are wearing, and pivoting the plan, makes his way to a locker room to get one and get changed. It does take him an extra second and he considers that this might bite him- but Tim knows the place inside and out. He's scoured all their data, and sue him for being cocky, but he has a literal alien ready to tear the place apart waiting for his heart rate to jump above 80 bpm. which is a pretty low heart rate all things considered.

Tim gets exactly where he's meant to go, and waits only a few minutes before he see's the science team extract Phantom from the high security room.

Phantom doesn't make it clear if he notices Tim, but he's basically being dragged by the couple, so Tim decides to beat them to their destination. The experimental wing had shown up in their reported data not long after they made it extremely obvious that they had Phantom in their data output.

Tim's already in the room when he starts to notice that it's not exactly a room... more like a mechanical space. The way the corners curl in the room make it almost tube like... Portal like.

Phantom is thrown in and Tim grabs him the second the scientists leave, but the kill switch key Tim made to get them out isn't working for this door like it did all the others.

"Not... Not a door."

"We're in some sort of device aren't we? Something of their own design that the government isn't aware they're funding?"

"Portal. You've gotta get out, even if you get caught, you gotta get out now."

Tim's comm comes alive in his ear, its Kon responding to Tim's heart rate rising- and Tim is hesitant to call him in but ultimately tells him to start flying over for extraction.

Then the portal goes off, and while he feels pain, he doesn't feel different. Bright light subsiding, Kon's arms around him with a confused voice, and lots of lasers being fired his way... Tim wakes up to see a much younger Phantom looking at him from the other side of the young justice couch.

Kon, Bart and Cassie are all fighting at a white board that's been wheeled in but Tim can only yawn and blink his way into consciousness enough to give a shit.

Black haired and blue eyed, button nosed with large ears, a wry thin lipped smile... Tim realizes that Phantom looks incredibly similar to his younger self. And then Tim looks at his much smaller hands and realizes that he probably looks a lot more similar to his younger self than normal.

Taking in the scenery once more, the white board is divided on the traits Tim has to the children sitting left and right on the couch. Kon didn't know who was who. That meant that maybe... the government didn't either.

Phantom turns out to be a pretty chill dude despite all the trauma, and he's incredibly prepared to both fuck with Ra's and the government in their newly found childhood twin-ship.

One of the twins is scarier than the other, and despite Danny literally haunting them, its always Tim.

(Okay now its some one else's turn :D )

[odinsblog]

Everything about the Starship was the result of a series of decisions designed to make spaceflight cheaper. The methane fuel. The steel structure. The method of construction. Even the rocket’s enormous size. All of it was a gamble to create a system that is fully reusable, bringing the cost of getting to orbit down to a small fraction of what it is today and making space almost infinitely more accessible.

However, one decision in the process didn’t just result in the destruction of the rocket, it generated a cascade of failures, one that’s likely to set the program back by a least a year, erasing the chance of NASA’s scheduled return to the Moon in the process. That decision is 100% on Elon Musk.

HERE’S THE TL;DR VERSION

The no-clamps slow throttle-up meant Starship stayed on the pad for a long time, throwing up concrete, rock, and sand in all directions, damaging the pad, nearby facilities, and Starship itself.

By the time it left the pad, that debris had already destroyed three of Starship’s engines and likely damaged valves and systems that would lead to additional engine failures as well as an incorrect fuel mixture.

Starship was slow to reach every point in the flight plan, suggesting that other engines were not able to throttle up to compensate for the lost engines.

At what should have been stage separation, either software errors or more smashed hardware kept the main booster firing long after it should have shut down.

The result was an uncontrolled spin that required Starship to be destroyed.

WHY THIS IS 100% ELON MUSK’S FAULT

Starship is the work of hundreds of talented engineers and thousands of employees who put their best into making this thing go. The design is extremely daring, and something of a wonder. The engines are amazing, even if they have demonstrated that reliability is currently lacking. The whole system of construction promises to revolutionize the space industry.

But there are two parts that were left out of Starship that absolutely doomed this flight and the decision not to include them falls right with the guy at the end of the first row at “Star Command.”

Those parts were not parts for the rocket. They were parts for the launch pad.

For some reason, Musk became convinced early on that he did not want the launch tower to have:

A flame-diverter or flame trench to redirect the blast from the booster’s engines

A water deluge system to dump a massive amount of water around the launch tower during liftoff

The launch facilities at Kennedy have both of these. Even the launch pads used for the much smaller Falcon 9 have both a flame trench and a water deluge. They help to protect not just the launch pad, and the surrounding area, they also help to reduce the noise. Which sounds trivial, but that noise is energy. That’s what broke up the concrete under the Starship Stage Zero, not the fire. That’s what sent car-sized chunks flying in all directions.

A flame diverter and a water deluge would have greatly reduced, or even eliminated, the damage to the area around the pad. They would have prevented the blow back of debris that damaged Starship before it even left the ground. It might have headed off the whole cascade of events that resulted in that button being pressed 4 minutes into the flight.

We don’t have to guess about whose decision it was not to implement these systems, because Musk already said he decided to skip these systems over the recommendations of his engineers. Musk even had a preview of what was going to happen, as past test flights of the upper stage also resulted in significant spalling of concrete structures and damage to at least one of the ships. He just made them try different kinds of concrete.

The parts for a water deluge were actually on site, ready to install, but Musk decided to forego that installation—likely so he could enjoy the pun of launching his super-joint on 4/20. Which was something Musk had joked about doing months ago.

Hopefully he enjoyed the joke, because the EPA and FAA are going to be thinking long and hard before they authorize another flight from Boca Chica. All those engineers, and all those workers, and all their good work, is held hostage to Musk’s whims.

Also a victim of Musk’s decision to leave these vital pieces off the table? The Artemis Program at NASA. Musk has already been awarded the contract to create the first lunar lander for the new program, but that lander is absolutely dependent on Starship. It’s a sure bet that Musk won’t have his part of the program ready on schedule. It’s going to be some time before we even so another test flight.

In the meantime, SpaceX can repair the damage, build a flame diverter, install that deluge system, clean up the software, and ditch the whole “pitch over” means of stage separation for something simpler—like using the second stage engines to push the stages apart with an unignited shot of methane.

See you in 2024, Starship.

Maybe.

👉🏿 https://m.dailykos.com/stories/2023/4/22/2165317/-A-Starship-Post-mortem-Why-the-giant-rocket-failed-and-why-it-s-Elon-Musk-s-fault

[hollyskywalker]

The wrong one

Pairing: Qimir x Seer!reader (hinted future Qimir x Seer!reader x Osha) Warnings: none

Seer!reader who, no matter what she did to try and make it stop, kept getting visions of dark figures and ominous shadows since she was a youngling. She’d always been prone to Force visions, but as she got older, the visions became darker. It scared her. 

Seer!reader who told her master, trusting they would help her. She didn’t expect the wary glances that followed. There were plenty of Force users who had glimpses into the future, but for some reason, hers were the only ones filled with darkness and death. 

Seer!reader slowly getting shut out by everyone. Distrustful gazes followed her wherever she went. She slowly came to the realization that they believed the darkness she saw wasn’t from the future but was coming from her. 

Seer!reader not being able to take it anymore and leaving the Order. She waited for the guilt that would follow, but it never came. Taking a ship and traveling for days until something made her stop. She didn’t know what it was, but she knew she was meant to find it. 

Seer!reader traveling to a planet she’d never been to before and hiding the ship deep in the forest. Spending days trying to pinpoint where the feeling came from before ending up close to the coast, just as her rations were about to run out. 

Seer!reader spending the next few hours watching the view, finally feeling at peace—even with the unknown pair of eyes burning holes into the back of her head. Someone was watching her, and though her brain told her to hide, that the presence was shrouded in darkness, her instincts told her she was exactly where she was supposed to be. 

Seer!reader catching glimpses of something silver between the rocks. Almost like a helmet? She reached out with the Force but found herself blocked from sensing the figure’s thoughts. She decided to let the masked figure come to her. 

Seer!reader watching a ship fly in and a man walk out, almost tripping over a rock before his gaze met hers and his eyebrows raised in surprise.  “Oh, hello,” he greeted. He had pale skin, brown eyes, and greasy black hair, which hung down both sides of his face.  “Did you get stranded here?” he asked. “There aren’t many people who know of this planet, let alone visit it.”  She shook her head. “No,” she said simply, looking between him and the place where the masked figure had been earlier. Something was off. 

Seer!reader figuring out Qimir’s persona within minutes, catching him off-guard. He had been immediately suspicious of the woman who looked lost but perfectly calm at the same time. When she explained to him why she was there, he scoffed. The future was always changing and nothing is permanent. He had no use for her and told her as much. He thought for a moment she might punch him but she pressed her lips firmly together, torn between offense and amusement.

Seer!reader refusing to leave, setting up camp close to the coast to give the stranger space but still staying near him. She knew he was watching her, suspicious of her. But unlike when her old mentor and fellow Jedi had done that, it didn’t bother her. She could feel him breach her mind multiple times a day, trying to catch her off guard and reveal anything incriminating. 

Seer!reader slowly gaining his trust. Any questions he had, she answered honestly. She knew what he was, and was learning bit by bit who he was. She never judged him, never questioned his goals, never doubted him. By the time he allowed her to stay in the cave with him during a storm, she had become a vital part of his life without even knowing what that really meant. Her visions didn't lessen but the darkness didn't scare her anymore.

Seer!reader being the one to kiss him first, feeling nervous for the first time since arriving on the planet. Slowly pulling away from the kiss and anxiously studying his face for any reaction. Before she knew it, his hand was on the back of her neck, hauling her mouth to his. She stayed with him in the cave from then on. 

Seer!reader knowing something was missing. They belonged together—she knew that much. But it was like trying to light a fire with no air. Like having a solar system of moons and planets but no sun. They were missing that one specific, final piece of the puzzle. 

Seer!reader meeting Mae, a vengeful girl with a strong connection to the Force, and immediately disliking her. Mae couldn’t know Qimir’s true identity, and she was glad to protect that secret. She waited until the aspiring acolyte was gone before draping herself across Qimir’s lap, mumbling, “She’s the wrong one.”  Qimir asking her to explain, but she simply shrugs and repeats her statement. 

Seer!reader barely tolerating Mae’s presence and being glad any time she left for missions The Stranger gave her. The only downside was that when Mae left for a mission, so did Qimir—disguised as an unassuming former arms smuggler for the Hutt clan, supplying Mae with the intelligence and equipment needed to defeat her foes while keeping tabs on her. 

Seer!reader watching Qimir return from Mae’s mission to kill four Jedi with an unconscious girl in his arms. It wasn’t Mae, though they looked exactly alike. A smile pulled at her lips. 

“You found her.” 

[jedipoodoo]

Singin' In The Rain (Sergeant Hunter x Reader)

Obligatory wet hair Hunter screenshot courtesy of @saltyseaturtle bc tunglr won't let me add any good gifs

Notes: Idiots in Love(TM), dividers by @ve-ti-ver and @freesia-writes. Hunter listens to Dad Rock almost exclusively and sounds amazing.

"Finally, a bed!" You sighed in relief, shoving past Wrecker into Clone Force Ninety-Nine's bunkroom. After six months straight of switcing out the smelly bunks on the Marauder, you were ready for an actual mattress and a pillow to sleep on. You tossed your medikit on the floor and took a flying leap onto the bed closest to the door, armor and all.

"You do realize that's my bed, right sweetheart?" Hunter asked.

"And what of it? You're gonna be up writing reports all night anyway," You shrugged, hugging his pillow to your chest. It had been immaculately made up with military corners before you landed on it and mussed all the sheets.

Hunter sauntered over, resting his arm against the bedframe above his head, "Well, I was hoping to write the reports from the comfort of my own bed."

"Yeesh! Get a room!" Crosshair flicked a toothpick that hit the back of Hunter's head, and you giggled as Hunter glared at his brother. Tech settled himself comfortably at his work table in the center of the room, and Wrecker just grinned, all three of them daring Hunter to say something. You wondered why it took him so long to actually move, until finally, he stood up and stepped away from his bed.

"Alright lads, I'm gonna hit the showers," Hunter said, stretching out his back with the groan of a man twice his physical age, "The rest of you should probably do the same."

"Yeah, sure thing, Sarge!" Wrecker said, with a distracted tone that meant he probably wasn't going to get around to it. Tech waved him off, and Crosshair had already draw the curtains around the enclosure around his bed that he'd made with spare crates. Hunter rolled his eyes, grabbed a towel and his shower gear, and disappeared into the refresher.

With everyone settled, the room quieted, which was a stark contrast to the usual volume on the Marauder. Everyone knew that Hunter loved his shower time, especially when they had fresh running water. He could take hours you scrub the dirt from his sensitive skin and get his hair properly conditioned. If hunter got first shower, it was a safe bet that no one else would get in a shower that evening, even if he didn't end up using all of Tipoca City's hot water supply.

Wrecker began snoring in his bunk almost immediately, but it took Tech almost an hour before he finally fell asleep on top of his work project. You'd removed your armor to lie down more comfortably, but you couldn't quite get to sleep.

You and Hunter shared a lot of things, including but not limited to--canteens, blankets, blaster polish, personal space, even a ration bar or two. Living on a cramped ship got you very up close and personal with the rest of the crew, but was it really okay for you to take his own bed? You ran through the conversation again and again. You could almost swear Hunter was playing along with you, but you were still new enough to the squad as their medic that your place among the boys, these brothers, was still uncertain.

In the midst of your whirlpool of thoughts, another sound broke through the incessant white noise of the Kaminoan rain. It sounded like someone singing, but Wrecker snored again before you could make it out. When Wrecker paused to take a deep breath, you heard it again, and it was coming from the refresher unit.

You sat up on Hunter's bunk, and the lights, automatically dimmed from the lack of movement, turned on suddenly. You sprinted to the door to shut them off before they could wake up Tech. Already on your feet, you might as well listen closely.

Quietly, you made your way to the door of the refresher, kneeling beside the doorframe to listen. The tile was great for the acoustics, and despite the sound of rushing water, you could hear Hunter's voice singing loud and clear.

He was singing an emotional ballad from one of those rock bands your father always had playing. Kids at school called it lame, mostly just because anything that an adult enjoyed couldn't be interesting, but with Hunter singing the lyrics, it became so much more meaningful to you. The emotion in his voice was passionate as he sang about being in love with someone and being willing to do anything for them.

This one was your favorite as a kid. Most of the songs by this band were sad, lonely ballads about losing the love of their life. this one was just as emotional, but definitely had a happier ending.

Unknowingly, you started singing along, providing the melody to his beautiful tenor. You were so enamored by the music you and Hunter were both making that you didn't realize that the water had stopped running.

Hunter at least had the courtesy to let you finish the song, but no sooner had you crooned the final note than the door to the fresher slid open, and there stood Hunter, water dripping down his bare chest with a towel draped around his shoulders. You felt the heat rising in your cheeks.

"Hi?" You whispered, more of a question than a greeting.

"Hey," Hunter leaned against the doorframe.

Your eyes darted to avoid meeting his, but they were instantly drawn to a single drop of water slowly running down his chest and over his tummy, which hung out a bit over the waistband of his trousers. You quickly looked back up.

"See something you like?" Hunter asked with a grin. You leaped to your feet as if you were going to run away, but instead you rammed your head right into his nose.

"Kark!" You gasped, holding your head. It was sore, but you hardly had a bruise. Hunter had his nose pinched shut in a pre-emptive move to stem the flow of blood.

"Shoot, Hunter, I'm so sorry, let me take a look."

"I-it's not broken," Hunter tried to tell you.

"I'll be the judge of that," You grabbed a washcloth from the refresher and dragged him back over to the bunk, prying his hand from his nose. After prodding it this way and that, it was evident that Hunter's nose wasn't broken. This time, at least.

"I'm sorry, Hunter," You whispered, trying not to wake his brothers now that the coast was clear.

"You're fine," He waved it off, but accepted the ice pack you pulled from your bag and leaned back against the wall, "I shouldn't have come on so strong."

You froze, sitting just a foot away.

"You were coming onto me?"

Hunter froze, and you watched his throat bob nervously.

"Yeah. That's...if you're okay with it?" He mumbled.

You fisted your hand around the cushioning of Hunter's pillow. Here you were sitting in his bunk, and Hunter was asking you if you were okay flirting with him?

A toothpick shot across the room and hit the side of your head.

"If the two of you are going to make out, would you please get back in the shower?"

"Cross!" Hunter lobbed the ice pack in return and the sniper retreated back into his nest. Tech snorted in his sleep, and Wrecker mumbled something about a gundark's mother, but neither of them seemed to wake up.

Hunter studied each of his brothers to make sure you had adequate privacy before looking back to you.

You gave a little giggle and Hunter huffed a laugh through his nose, only to wince in pain.

"You sure you're okay?" You asked. Your hand was on his shoulder for a reassuring touch before you remembered he wasn't wearing a shirt.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," He promised. You felt warm again. In this recent revelation, his usual nickname for you didn't feel as casual as you'd assumed it was.

"Yeah," you said softly.

"Yeah what?" Hunter said. His amber eyes were making you dizzy.

"Oh, uh, yeah, I'm okay with you flirting with me." You said lamely.

This wasn't how big romantic moments were supposed to go, right? You weren't supposed to hit your lover in the nose when he tried to make a move on you, and you certainly weren't supposed to sound like a blubbering Hutt when you finally accepted his advances.

Despite all the "supposed to's", Hunter smiled up at you, his face alight with joy. It was evident that the Bad Batch's penchant for disregarding the rules applied to their love lives too.

"Your voice sounded really pretty," He said, sitting up and scooting a bit closer to you on the mattress. He wasn't quite touching you, but his hand rested next to yours.

"Oh please," you rolled your eyes, "I sound like a mynock when I sing."

"Don't say that," Hunter said. His voice was soft in volume, but sharp in tone. You had no choice but to meet his impassioned gaze.

He was trembling slightly. You could see it in the droplets of water that clung to his stray locks of damp hair. Bravely, he lifted a hand to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"I love listening to you sing." He said.

He couldn't keep making you spiral like this. If he kept saying things like this to you, you were going to faint on his karking bed.

"Well," You scooted closer, knee to knee, with a hand on his thigh. His eyes went wide and his breathing hastened as you leaned in, his nose nearly touching yours.

"I could say the same for you, Sergeant Hunter. Anyone ever tell you that you have the voice of an angel of Iego?"

"N-no, n-never came up before." Hunter's hands twitched, unsure of where to put them.

Jackpot.

You took one of his hands, guiding it to the mattress to help him balance himself, and place the other on your waist. You held his hands in place, unwilling to let go. The two of you sat there, until your breathing synchronized.

In, and out. In, and out.

It was actually kind of nice, even if it was a bit awkward.

"What happens now?" Hunter asked.

"I...dunno," You whispered, "I guess we could kiss."

Your faces were so close you almost missed his eyebrows shooting up. He quickly looked around the bunkroom, wondering if any of his brothers had heard your offer.

"Do...do you want to kiss?" Hunter asked.

Had it been all you could dream about since you first met Hunter? Yes. Were you thinking clearly enough in this moment? No.

"It might be a little too soon for that." You gave Hunter his hands back, sitting back on the bunk.

The tension vanished from Hunter's shoulders, "Oh, right."

It was impossible to miss the disappointment in his tone as he toweled off his hair, tossing the wet towel onto Tech's table and kicking aside various accoutrements in the search for a shirt that fit him.

You bit your lip, "That doesn't mean kissing is entirely off the table, though."

"It's not?" Hunter stopped with his head halfway through one of Crosshair's shirts.

You interwove your fingers, stretching them back and forth, "I...this was nice."

He nodded quickly, "Yeah, I thought it was nice too."

"You're both nice. Now shut up and let the rest of us sleep." Crosshair snarled from a cocoon of blankets that weren't his.

"Shut up!"

You snickered, holding Hunter's pillow on your lap, and Hunter marched back over to the bunk.

"I...suppose you want your bed back tonight," You said, even as you tucked your feet up underneath yourself.

Hunter shrugged, and you could see that his shoulders were far too broad for the tight fit of Crosshair's body glove.

"I think the phrase is, some people will...sing for their supper."

You glared at him. "You wouldn't dare."

Hunter raised his hands in a display of vulnerability, "Only if you want to."

You sighed, almost resigning yourself you another night of sleeping on the unforgiving floor, when you got your own brilliant idea.

"Only if you sing with me."

"That's not how this works-" Hunter tried to protest.

"Isn't it?" You teased, batting your lashes up at him, "You wouldn't have heard me singing if you hadn't been the one singing in the first place."

Hunter's hand came out of nowhere, but his touch was as gentle as the fur of a newborn tooka as he tilted your chin up to look at him.

"You drive a hard bargain, sweetheart."

This bastard knew exactly what he could do to you. Fortunately, you knew just how to drive him crazy in return. Before he could react, you placed your hand on his arm and gave him a sharp tug, pulling him down to lay on the bed beside you.

"Takes two to tango, Sarge."

Hunter was speechless as he stared into your eyes. You turned to settle into bed, but Hunter grabbed you by the shoulder, "We made a deal," He whispered in your ear. He smelled like the sharp pines of Kashyyyk, not at all like the generic soap and shampoo the GAR handed out.

Crazy indeed.

You rolled on your side to face him, untucking his blanket to wrap yourself up.

"What song did you have in mind?"

Hunter mulled it over for a bit, giving you the chance to admire the little wrinkle that appeared between his eyes when he was deep in thought. When he finally sang the first words of his chosen song, soft and hiding in the back of his throat so as not to disturb his brothers, it was another love ballad. You had to appreciate his taste in songs. This one was about two lovers, determined to weather any storm with their partner by their side. You'd appreciated it when it was first released. Never did you imagine that you'd sing it with a partner of your own.

True to your word, you sang with Hunter, letting him pull you closer until your head rested on his chest, his heartbeat keeping time for your song.

You fell asleep before you could finish the bridge, feeling warm and content with Hunter. And he certainly didn't mind.

[marlynnofmany]

Early Efforts

 I was keeping Wio company in the cockpit, because piloting can be boring in empty space, when an alert dinged. Wio paused her story about an underwater race she’d won on her home planet. I held my questions while she tapped the controls, tentacles dancing across the console. Finally she sat back and relaxed.

 “Nothing big,” she told me. “Just a bit of metal junk among the rock.” One of the smaller screens zoomed in on a patch of space that turned out to hold a tumbling asteroid. “It doesn’t register as any known weapon, so it’s probably not a lost mine or what-have-you.”

 Surprised, I looked around the cockpit as if it would give me a view through the walls. “Is this area known for those?”

 “Nope,” said Wio. “But space is big and time is long. It wouldn’t be the first time idiots fighting each other didn’t give a flip about the rest of the universe.”

 “Yeah, or the last,” I agreed. “So what is it, if it’s not dangerous? Can we tell?”

 Wio turned a few knobs and flicked a switch. “Not from this distance. The readings I’m getting are of common ship-building materials.”

 “So it’s from a crash? Do you think it was that crash?” I pointed over my shoulder, again as if we could simply look back to see the wreck I meant. I probably wasn’t even pointing in the right direction. We hadn’t seen the joyriding accident in person, just heard about it when we picked up our latest cargo.

 “Ehh,” Wio said, studying a complicated set of imagery. “Don’t think so. Pretty sure the angle’s wrong. Possible, but unlikely.”

 “If it is, do you think they’ll want their part back?”

 “Depends on what shape it’s in,” Wio said with a wrinkle of her octopuslike forehead. “We’d have better odds selling it for scrap at the next station with a good mechanic’s sector.”

 I scanned the many screens and readouts, trying to get a feel for how much of a detour it was. “Do you think that’s worth checking?”

 “Sure do,” Wio said cheerily, tapping buttons and touchscreens, adjusting dials and fiddling with a couple odd bits on the console that I’m pretty sure were there just for fidgeting purposes. Wio was rarely still.

 “Should we — oh, you already pinged her.” I spotted the little red light that said the captain had been called. I expected a comm call as soon as Captain Sunlight got a spare moment, but she must have been nearby, because she just showed up at the door.

 “Yes?” asked Captain Sunlight, posture as regal as ever and scales a slightly brighter yellow than usual. I still hadn’t found a polite way to ask if the Heatseekers on the ship polished their scales or shed them in privacy for that occasional fresh look. Now certainly wasn’t the time.

 Wio spun in her chair. “Permission to make a minor detour for potential salvage?”

 “Show me.” The captain walked over for a better look, about head height since I was sitting down. She peered at the various readings and gave permission.

 And, since it really was a very minor detour, she just stood there and waited while we closed in on the lump of rock and metal. Soon enough we could see it on the main screen: turning end over end, traveling in roughly the same direction we were, just much slower.

 “No radioactivity,” Wio reported. “No air pockets either, and the chance of germs is near-zero.”

 “The components seem relatively straightforward for a bit of simple machinery,” said the captain, reading a chart that I’d thought listed something else.

 While they went over the analysis, I reflected that I really should ask Wio to teach me the basics of the controls in here. Not enough to fly — I was fully aware of how much training went into that — but just enough so I didn’t feel like an idiot Earthling who’d never been to space before when more than one screen was active.

 “Let’s use the grabber,” Captain Sunlight said. “I’ll prep the cargo bay.” She made several calls to different parts of the ship while Wio unfolded a portion of the controls that I hadn’t seen yet. It was labeled “Grabbing Arm.”

 “Ooh, how’s that work?” I asked.

 “It’s nice and intuitive for once,” Wio said as she ignored it for long enough to steer us right alongside the spinning lump. She locked the speed in (but didn’t make us spin to match it, thankfully. That would have been a bit much). Then she turned her attention back to the panel. It held several regular-sized buttons and one large black one — oh wait, that was a hole.

 When Wio stuck her tentacle in to manipulate the grabbing arm, I quietly shook my head. Of course it’s that kind of arm, I thought as a mechanical tentacle uncurled into view outside. Why would I expect anything with fingers on a ship made by Strongarms? 

 Captain Sunlight finished talking to whoever was in the cargo bay, and gave Wio the go-ahead. I watched the main screen as the grabber lined up carefully with the spinning mass of rock and metal, then gave it a calculated whack. A piece broke off and it stopped spinning.

 Wio peered at a readout. “Nonvaluable mineral,” she said. “I’ll just get the big part.”

 “How big is it?” I asked belatedly, not sure of the grabber’s size for reference. One of the screens probably said.

 “Small enough to fit!” Wio said. With a look of intense concentration (and several tentacles fidgeting behind her), she wrapped the metal grabbing arm around the asteroid and pulled it in.

 “I’m off to the cargo bay,” announced Captain Sunlight. “Keep it nice and gentle.”

 “Will do. No explosions of dirt on the floor if I can help it.”

 Captain Sunlight nodded, even though Wio was watching the screen, and she left. I looked between the two.

 “I’m going to see if I can help,” I said, getting up.

 “Sure thing. I’ll watch from here.” Wio gestured with another tentacle at a small screen on the side that had a great view of the cargo bay. Several crewmembers were waiting by the airlock.

 I hurried down the hall on my long human legs. I wanted to see what this thing was. Maybe it was important, or valuable, or both. Probably not, but who knew?

 When I got there, the airlock was already closed again, and Eggskin was putting away their hand scanner. Blip and Blop each had a hand on the lumpy rock about the size of a two-person hoverbike. They seemed to be the designated “hold it in place” team, which they were good at, because of all the muscles. The goggles they wore and the pickaxes shoved in their waistbands said that might not be all they hoped to do.

 Eggskin said, “No trace of anything biological,” and moved to stand beside the captain. The two Heatseekers were a healthy distance from the rock, clearly to give the Frillian twins plenty of pickaxing room. I thought I could see a bit of metal among the lumps, but it was hard to make out. The rock looked like several pieces had clumped together around it. I couldn’t say whether they were stuck with glue, welding, or just gravity and time. A smattering of gravel had already fallen to make the floor treacherous.

 Blip and Blop seemed aware of that, since they moved their feet by sliding instead of stepping. At Eggskin’s declaration, the captain nodded a go-ahead, and the Frillians grabbed their pickaxes.

 A voice from behind me complained, “I was going to watch…”

 I turned to see Zhee retreating back into the hallway, all gaudy purple exoskeleton and disapproval.

 He continued, “But I think I’ll wait out here.”

 I asked, “Do you think the chips are going to—” then the first pickaxe hit with a thunderous clang, and I hustled out to join him. Captain Sunlight and Eggskin had also backed up further. I was pretty sure one or both of them were saying words of caution, but I couldn’t make it out for sure.

 Zhee clicked his pincher arms and angled his antennae in disapproval. He probably had opinions about the best way to disassemble the chunk of rocks and nonsense. Zhee always had opinions.

 A concerned voice from down the hall asked, “What’s happening?”

 I called back, “Salvage.”

 Paint trotted up, her expression worried and her mottled orange scales less shiny than the captain’s. I’d definitely have to ask about the polishing sometime. Maybe.

 “What kind of salvage?” she asked.

 I told her, “Rocks and metal.”

 Zhee said, “Loud and messy.”

 Before Paint could press for details, the axe noises were replaced by a minor avalanche of rocks etcetera collapsing onto the cargo bay floor. The silence afterward made me rub my ears.

 Paint looked around the corner, then dart forward. Zhee and I followed.

 The pickaxes were already set down in favor of hands for picking through the mess. Blip and Blop pulled out something long and angular, each grabbing a different end and having a split-second tug of war like two puppies with the same stick. Then they held it up for the captain together.

 “Got it!”

 “Look at this!”

 We all looked. It was dented gray metal, long with a couple of joints, and with wires dangling out the bigger end. Straightened out, it would have been a little taller than the Frillians.

 I asked the obvious question. “What is it? Broken antenna?”

 Blip rotated it, peering at the wires, then the bent sections. “I don’t think so. These parts seem supposed to move.”

 “Yeah, and this end’s serrated!” Blop said, pointing at the narrow end. “It’s almost like…” He grabbed the last two segments and wrenched them together. The metal screeched. The serrations fit together perfectly, in a startling imitation of Zhee’s pincher arms.

 We all looked at him.

 Zhee hissed quietly and angled his antenna into extreme displeasure. “Keep breaking,” he said.

 “What? Why?” I asked.

 Zhee pointed a pincher. “It is old enough to be ugly. An embarrassment to Mesmers everywhere.”

 A few careful questions and one angry rant later, it became clear that this Mesmer at least was certain that every one of his species would be personally offended by the sight of this relic’s lack of vibrant colors and/or gemstone decorations.

 No, it hadn’t lost its decorations; there were no sockets for gems. No, it hadn’t lost its paint; there were no traces, and paint was only for utter peasants who couldn’t anodize metal.

 “Ask Trrili,” Zhee challenged. “She’s from a different moon entirely.”

 Captain Sunlight quietly called Trrili to the cargo bay to give her opinion on something unspecified. Trrili arrived in a storm of shiny black and blood-red, taller than Zhee and curious why she’d been summoned. She caught sight of the relic.

 “Throw that out the airlock immediately,” Trrili hissed.

 Zhee said, “I suggested they break it.”

 “That’s good too.”

 I said, “I can’t believe no Mesmer ever would want to keep this for historical value, if it’s as old as all that. It’s a ship’s grabber arm, right? It might have broken off in some historical battle or something! It could be incredibly important!”

 They said, “It’s not,” in perfect unison.

 Wio’s voice came over the loudspeaker from where she’d been watching on the cameras. “There’s a Mesmer colony not far from here. Public info says it’s relatively new, so not the one that lost that, but it would take some detailed math and a huge map to track how far it could have drifted in that many centuries anyway. It can’t hurt to ask them if they want it for a museum, right?”

 Zhee said that would be deeply embarrassing to even ask.

 Trrili wanted nothing to do with it.

 Captain Sunlight decided it was worth a shot.

 Both Mesmers stalked out of the cargo bay with loud declarations that they would be on the other side of the ship, and not to bother them until the shame was done with.

 The captain asked Blip and Blop to clean the thing up as best they could. Paint volunteered to help, and ran to get brushes.

 I asked permission to be in the cockpit during the phone call. Surely that opinion couldn’t be universal. Surely.

 Or, I learned soon after, maybe it could.

 “A what?” asked the local authority, a pink-and-blue Mesmer with glittering chips of crystal forming intricate whorls on her exoskeleton. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

 Captain Sunlight addressed the screen with dignity. “A historical artifact of Mesmer design. It appears to be a mechanical version of your glorious blade-arms, made of gray metal.”

 “That’s disappointing,” the authority said with a flick of both antennae. “Kindly throw it into the nearest sun.”

 I blurted, “What?”

 Captain Sunlight gave me a look, but didn’t say to be quiet. I took that as permission to keep talking.

 “But this is part of your history! A record of how you got where you are!”

 “Ah, a human,” the Mesmer said with a sigh. “Tell me, when your offspring commit an act of art for the first time, you are proud, yes? And so are they, for a while? You might even put it on display. But then they grow up and never want to see it again out of shame? This does not deserve a place on the fridge. Into the sun it goes.”

 Nothing I could say would sway that decision, not that Captain Sunlight let me try for long. She turned the conversation to business, and ended up convincing the Mesmer authority to pay us a small fee for the inconvenience of going out of our way. (We were on official courier business, after all, and time was money.) (Yes, people say that even in space. The Mesmer didn’t bat an antennae at it.)

 The final agreement also included an escort ship, partly to make sure we really did get rid of the thing, and partly to help us do so. It had a tractor beam thingy that could be set in reverse to punt things across the starfield. Very handy for launching artifacts into the sun. No, I didn’t ask what they normally used it for. That kind of tech could easily have been an accidental discovery, and I wasn’t about to bring up any other possible sources of cultural embarrassment.

 But I was going to quietly give my respects to the ancient bit of machinery before it was atomized. I stood in the cleaned-up cargo hold next to the unassuming piece of dull, dented metal. Crouching, I ran my fingers over it, committing the feel to memory: from the torn wires to the crooked serrations. A couple of those little teeth were bent. I’d never know what bent them.

 Loud conversation approached, and my crewmates entered the room, bustling around to prepare. I stepped back as the captain arrived, and I took up a position by the door. I had a good view of the airlock from there.

 As Blip and Blop in their exo suits hefted it to throw, as Wio angled the ship to get us in line with the escort, as Captain Sunlight gave the command and the relic was launched toward the distant sun, I silently gave my respects. I sent mental appreciation to the ages-ago Mesmers who had made it.

 Great job, you guys. You must have been SO proud. 

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[thehydromancer]

Needed to get some Lego out of my system, after getting back into Space Engineers. Probably done a variant of this build a dozen times over, not sure how many of them made it to the posting stage. Thinking of doing a whole blue theme fleet.

---

The Howl class frigate was the backbone of the infamous, short lived Rost Defense Fleet. With the capture of the Highmoon shipyards above Rost, the newly minted Free Rost Republic sought to move beyond the converted mercantile, cargo, and utility ships that formed its ragtag space combatants. The Howl class was intended to be a highly maneuverable, opportunistic platform that would ride the coat tails of better armored assault ships. The entire super structure was built around supported the alternating fire of the two bow mounted heavy railguns, and was intended to be so nimble as to be able to over fly a target, only to rapidly flip on a dime to fire into the enemy's less armored rear. History would prove that such lofty aspirations worked better on the drawing board than in reality, and with only two PDGs and light armor paneling the Howl class would mostly not survive the colonies future conflicts with the Solar Union and Ijad, forcing the remnants of the free colonist forces to rely more heavily on the converted civilian hulls the class was meant to replace after being displaced from Rost.

[scoobyrooster1]

She's Mine [Part 3]

Qimir x (she/her)!reader

Summary: As Qimir’s newly sworn acolyte, you were supposed to be learning the ways of your master, far from prying eyes. But in a desperate attempt to escape the Jedi and Republic Space, you find yourself entangled in the dangerous mission of a mercenary crew. A hyperdrive malfunction forces the crew to land on a remote planet for repairs, leaving you stuck in the middle of a perilous scramble. With time running out and the mission to Canto Bight hanging in the balance, your loyalties—and your survival—are about to be tested like never before. Warnings: Angst, cursing, violence, trigger warning!sexual harassment, very protective Qimir Notes: This is a slow burn story between you and Qimir. I've been researching high republic history and I'm really excited for the next chapters!

*Im trying my best to use canon history but high republic era is a little difficult so there will be discrepancies and times where I have to improvise... bear with me!

She's Mine Masterlist

She's Mine [Intro] 

She's Mine [Part 1] 

She's Mine [Part 2] 

She's Mine [Part 2.2]

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

To your surprise, the ship actually made it to the small green planet in one piece. The journey had taken far longer than usual without the hyperdrive, but you were just grateful that the systems needed to fly the damn thing were still online. Otherwise, you'd have been left drifting in space, dead stick and helpless.

All of this meant more time in republic space with an item that people would kill for.

Great.

Looking to distract yourself from the unsettling dream that had left an insatiable itch in the back of your brain, you'd jumped into the engine compartment. The walls were lined with a maze of conduits and cables, all neatly bundled but seemingly endless, carrying power and data to every part of the ship. Scanning the machinery around you, all the correct lights were on and flashing. You flipped a few switches, listening to the ship’s steady hum in response. Your eyes fell to the compensator gauge... right there. You loosened a few bolts and opened the compartment, removing a singed piece. Shit. It was fried.

"Its the inertial dampener." You yelled up. "We're lucky we weren't blown half way to hell."

It was true. You all were very lucky.

Ians eyebrows plucked up.

You continued. "If we don't replace this servo." You waved the piece in the air. "Then it'll be our last hyperspace jump ever."

"Whatsssss a ssservo?" Kiro inquired.

"A servomotor?...its a part of the stabilizer... the stabilizer controls temporal displacement."

Kiro only stared at you. Nothing occurring in those reptilian eyes.

"The stabilizer is built into the dampener and turns the time it would normally take us to travel from point A to point B into what seems like an instant to us."

Still more silence. Shaun and Kiro just looked at eachother.

"So, what exactly do you two do again?" You questioned.

Ian practically burst out laughing. Kiro and Shaun exchanged amused glances.

"Kiro here," Ian began, "is my muscle. He goes where I go. And well, Shaun keeps an eye from above."

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to process the words. "Right... So you two were what—knitting while I was getting my ass beat by a Twi'lek?"

Ian’s face turned a violent shade of purple, laughing even harder. He wiped tears from his eyes, finally catching his breath and returning to grabbing his small satchel. "Thanks to them, the other thugs were intercepted."

"Other thugs?" you mumbled, confused.

Ian nodded, still chuckling. "Rod noted the guy that walked up to you, and there were others. We took care of it. Well, minus the Twi'lek... she actually knew what she was doing."

"And you forgot to mention all this?" you asked, sarcasm thick in your voice.

"Hey, it didn’t seem pertinent at the time..., we’d all had one hell of a day."

"Right," you said dryly, giving him a hard look.

Ian just blinked and continued gathering his things. "So you know your way around a starship... luckily I know a guy who might have what we need just a few clicks from here. Kiro lets go."

"An inertial dampener isn't an easy fix."

"I know sweetheart... thats why were here."

"Where are you gonna find another servomotor."

You were met with silence and the opening of blast doors. Not paying you anymore mind, Ian treaded down, Kiro and Shaun trailing behind him.

You only sighed leaning against the circuits. Contemplating your next move. You had left your master errily sleeping on his cot. He was most likely still down and you would do anything to avoid any conversation... especially after that dream.

You hoisted yourself up and out of the engine compartment.

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

Ian eyes tracked you wandering behind them.

"You tagging along or something?"

You looked in the general direction of the ship. You almost expected Qimir to be there standing on the ramp. You could swear you sensed his presence or at least his shadow.

"I need some fresh air. And I don't trust you enough to not screw this up."

He shrugged. "The more the merrier I guess."

As you walked through the grassy horticultural fields of maker knows where, you swatted at the gnats buzzing near your face. The sky was darkening, and you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling of being too far from the ship. You eventually reached the edge of town, being far more urbanized than you expected.

"This way."

Ian led you to a small hut along the bustling main street, its exterior cluttered with old droids and rusted ship parts haphazardly strewn about. You could only hope that somewhere inside was the part you needed to fix the dampener.

A Quarren male stood behind the desk cluttered with tools and machine parts.

"Ian." He drawled through his beak like mouth.

"Heelim... my good friend."

"What trouble have you brought to my doorstep this time."

Ian only smiled in response.

----------

"An inertial dampener? Thats not an easy fix."

You gave Ian a look. He was obviously ignoring whatever I told you so face you were serving him.

"But if theres anyone who would have the part I know it'd be you."

"So. You just thought I'd have a servo lying around here?

"To be honest you were the closest option."

He chuckled in response.

"I am sorry my friend but I have no servos matching the one to your specific freighter."

Ian only bit his tongue and slapped Heelims arm in response.

"Thats quite alright. We'll figure it out my friend."

"Well if you need anything else feel free to look around."

Shaun had wandered outside already. Kiro tapped the machinery next to him with his claw, creating a sharp clang that rang through the store.

You toggled with some of merhandise around you, none of which could replace a servo.

"You work for Ian?" The Quarren questioned you.

"I owe him."

"Ahhhhhh... unfortunate."

You chuckled in response, looking around you realized you were the only one left in the store as Ian turned his heal.

"Thank you for your help."

The Quarren nodded his head.

-------

You found the three of them standing in a circle, deep in debate over your dwindling options.

Stepping up, you interjected, “So, he doesn’t have one. Maybe someone else does.” You tried to keep your tone hopeful, though you knew the answer.

“There aren’t any other sssellers who’ll have what he doesssn't," Kiro replied, his voice a cold hiss. "Heelim is the bessst.”

Ian shrugged, eyes on the ground but clearly working something out in his head. “Who said anything about buying one?”

You cut in quickly, already guessing where Ian was headed. “I saw a blue A-23 freighter in the yard. If I remember right, it should have similar parts to your ship.”

Without waiting for a response, you rushed back inside the shop.

“Do you know the owner of that light blue A-23 freighter outside?” you asked the shopkeeper.

He gave you a suspicious look, eyes narrowing, knowing exactly why you seeked the information.

You sighed, frustration creeping in. “Please.”

For a long moment, he just stared at you. Ten long seconds. You seized on whatever flicker of empathy might have passed across his face.

Finally, he relented. “That ship belongs to Laro Kiggs. He frequents the bar down the street. You never heard this from me”

“Thank you,” you said quickly, turning to leave.

Before you could make it out the door, his voice stopped you. “Traveling with Ian makes unsuspecting people accustomed to looking over their shoulders... but I see that’s already second nature to you.”

His words caught you off guard, hitting closer to home than you expected.

“I’ve had to be," you admitted quietly.

He hummed thoughtfully. "Finding real safety, real solace, in this system or the next... it's a rare gift. But it exists. I was lucky enough to find it. Understand—it’s out there."

You smiled faintly, understanding what he was implying and stepped out into the street.

-------

You rushed back outside, catching them mid-conversation.

Kiro hissed, “Getting onto a freighter here is easssssy enough.”

“I found the owner,” you interrupted, catching their attention. “He should be at the bar tonight.”

Ian finally looked up. “Alright. Shaun, you and y/n will keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t leave the bar. Kiro and I will handle the ship. I’ll signal Rod to expect another half-hour delay.”

Shaun frowned. “Are you sure about this?”

“What other choice do we have?” Ian shot back. “The nearest planet’s days away without a working dampener, and our buyer’s going to be on Corinth wondering where his precious book is.”

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

Ian and Kiro took a speeder to the parked ships on the outskirts of the town. Ian would board the ship while Kiro stood guard and hopefully return with the servomotor you needed. You and Shaun stationed yourself at the local tavern.

The bar had a certain allure to it, bathed in warm, low lighting and filled with the sound of glasses clinking and conversations blending into a constant buzz. Then again it wasn't any different than any other bar in the galaxy.

You leaned over the bar, trying to catch the bartender's attention.

“Heyyy, I scratched a really nice blue freighter yesterday—parked by the market. Any chance you know the owner? I feel awful about it.”

The bartender didn’t even glance up. “Laro Kiggs. He’s right over there with his buddies. Black jacket.”

You followed his gaze and spotted him.

The bartender leaned in, giving you a knowing look. “If he hasn’t noticed yet, I wouldn’t say anything.”

“Thanks a ton,” you replied, voice sugary sweet, but entirely fake.

Walking back to Shaun, you whispered discreetly, “Black jacket, at your 12 o’clock.”

Shaun nodded.

It had only been three minutes since Ian entered the ship when his voice crackled through your coms.

It’s locked.

“What?” You struggled to keep a straight face.

It’s fucking locked. The compartment’s locked.

“Shit.”

Yeah. Shit, Ian echoed, static in the background. Who the hell locks their hyperdrive compartment?

“Maybe someone who doesn’t want their shit stolen by criminals?” you shot back, trying to think fast.

The window was closing, and you had to act quickly.

“Okay… Plan B. Ian, stand by.”

You noticed Shaun standing up, heading directly toward Laro. Instinct kicked in, and you blocked his path with a hand.

“What are you doing?” you asked, eyes narrowing.

“We need that key,” he said.

“And what? You’re just going to knock him out in the middle of the bar? Start a fight and get a mob chasing Ian and Kiro?”

He stared at you, unamused. “Got a better idea?”

“Actually, yes. Grab a speeder and stand by for the key.”

He shot you an incredulous look but headed for the door without another word.

What? Ian’s voice stammered in confusion through the coms.

You closed the channel.

You chugged your drink, steeling yourself as you walked up to the man. Adjusting your blouse, you reminded yourself that you could do this.

With a confident tap on his shoulder, you leaned in. "I—oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were someone I was looking for."

He turned, eyes sweeping over you with a lingering gaze. "I can be."

You laughed, taking a few steps closer, playing into his interest. "Well, are you gonna buy me a drink?"

A sinister smile tugged at his lips. "Why, of course."

It didn’t take long to get him another drink deep, his inhibitions loosening with each gulp. You used the opportunity to subtly feel for any sign of the key you were after, disguising your search with drunken leans and falls against him. Your hand brushed something square in his left jacket pocket.

"You know," he whispered, leaning closer, "we could always move this to my ship for more privacy." His hand slid across your thigh, the gesture bold and invasive.

You forced a playful smile, letting your right hand toy with his hair while your left hand moved towards his torso. He was too focused on your touch to notice your fingers slipping into his jacket pocket. You felt the cold metal of the key and smoothly withdrew it.

Too easy.

But before you could pull away, his hand moved higher up your thigh, edging dangerously close to your belt.

He went on. "Its only a few clicks away... if we are indeed two ships just passing in the night."

Before you could react, someone snatched your glass from the table.

It was Qimir.

Without a word, he downed the rest of your drink in one gulp, his eyes fixed on you.

"Looks like your drink's run out," he said coolly. "Let's get you another."

The guy beside you grumbled, glaring at Qimir. "Hey buddy, we were talking."

Qimir's eyes flicked to him, full of indifference. "And now you're done talking." He slammed the glass on the table. His voice was low, but it was enough to silence the man.

Qimir pulled you away, leading you toward another section of the bar.

You yanked your arm free and made a beeline for the exit.

Shaun waited on a speeder outside. You shoved the key into his hand beckoning him to get to Ian as quickly as possible.

"Here. Get this to Ian. We'll meet you back at the ship."

Shaun only nodded and revved the speeder, disappearing into the night.

Qimir had caught up to you outside.

Turning to face him your mouth ran away from you.

"What the hell was that?" you snapped.

"You were obviously uncomfortable," Qimir replied, not bothering to look at you.

You crossed your arms, huffing. "I can handle myself."

"He's a creep."

"So are most of the men in there," you shot back, shrugging off the situation.

Here’s a refined version of your scene, enhancing the emotional intensity and flow:

“This is exactly what I said would happen,” Qimir stated, his tone clipped.

“And how’s that exactly?” you shot back.

“You getting yourself into something I have to pull you out of.”

Fury surged through you, and you slammed your fists down, your face flushing with rage. “Don’t make excuses. I never asked to be pulled out of anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Well, next time a guy grabs my ass and I need your help, I’ll be sure to let you know first, Master.”

Qimir’s jaw tightened, clearly taken aback by your words.

You yelled, “If you had pulled me away just seconds earlier, you would have messed everything up!” Your body surged forward, hands outstretched.

In a burst of anger, you shoved him.

You actually shoved him.

He took it, standing firm, still caught up in whatever wave of misplaced duty he felt. His patronizing gaze made you want to slap him.

Screw this, you thought.

Maybe it was the liquor, or maybe you just needed more of it.

You stomped back inside waving your hand at the bartender. "One flameout please."

Your eyes scanned the bar for Laro making sure he was staying put. There he was already looking you up and down from a distance. You rolled your eyes and turned back to the bar.

The bartender caught your signal for another drink sliding a small shot of red liquid down the bar towards you. You gulped it down, throwing a few credits on the table. You could only hope that Ian had grabbed the servo by now and had gotten the hell out of there. But before you could enjoy the moment of solitude, Kiggs approached again, his drunken friends laughing and egging him on from a distance.

"Let’s pick up where we left off," he slurred.

"Let’s not," you replied flatly.

"C’mon, not interested anymore, I’m a great dancing partner," he said, stepping closer, his breath a noxious mix of alcohol and something far worse.

He grabbed your waist, pulling you into him. His hands wandered, groping you in a way that made your skin crawl.

You shoved him hard... far harder than you had shoved Qimir earlier. The force of it sent him stumbling backward a few feet. But it only seemed to make him angrier. He straightened up, his eyes narrowing as he started to march toward you again.

Good.

You could use a fight to blow off some steam. You readied your hands to connect with his jaw, eager to pop a crack at this entitled prick.

Before you could react, Qimir appeared in front of you, faster than you’d ever seen him move. His arm shot out, his hand wrapping around the man’s throat with terrifying ease. The man gasped, his hands clawing at Qimir’s grip, but he was choking on more than just the pressure of Qimir’s hand—there was something more. The air seemed to be ripped from his lungs, as though Qimir was suffocating him without effort. Laro’s friends were all drunk, but not quite enough to miss the warning signs. They kept a safe distance, clearly sensing that Qimir wasn’t the type to be messed with.

Qimir leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper, but you were close enough to hear. "You touch her again and I'll kill you."

He released the man, who dropped to the floor in a heap, gasping for breath. Qimir didn’t spare him another glance, turning to face you, his eyes unreadable.

You stared at him, still catching your breath from the sudden surge of adrenaline.

"Unbelievable." You stormed past him exiting the bar speaking into your coms. "Ian you might wanna put a rush on that servo."

The bar around you seemed distant now, the noise fading into the background as you focused on the path ahead. The liquor warmed your skin making the cold air unnoticeable.

For a moment, you wanted to argue—wanted to tell him you didn’t need his protection. But the way he had reacted, the intensity in his eyes, told you something different. Something deeper.

You had made it back to the ship.

You walked into your room. He followed.

You paced around until you stopped to look at him.

He was... withholding himself.

"I need you to give me a reason" He said softly.

"What?"

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t go back there and put a hole through his skull."

You closed the distance between you, your face inches from his. "Because if anyone has the right to, it’s me... yet here I am." you almost spat the words at him.

His eyebrows, once furrowed in anger, relaxed slightly, seemingly satisfied with your reason. But tension still radiated from him, his eyes blinking rapidly, betraying whatever calm facade he wished to portray.

The intensity of his gaze almost made you falter, but you gathered your resolve, summoning the courage to ask the question that had been lingering in your mind.

“Why did you do that?” you demanded, frustration bubbling to the surface.

“What?” he replied, feigning ignorance.

“Back at the bar. Why did you do that?”

“What are you talking about, y/n?”

You scoffed, disbelief washing over you. You were damned if you’d ever get a straight answer from him.

“Forget it... you should have just stayed at the ship.”

“That guy was harassing you,” he insisted.

“That doesn’t give you the right to threaten people.”

“I have a responsibility to you. You are my acolyte.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make me yours,” you emphasized, each syllable sharp.

He went still, as if the weight of your words hit him. But the understanding in his eyes vanished as quickly as it had come.

“You’re drunk,” he said, turning away to focus on the clutter around his cot.

“You would know,” you shot back, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “I guess we both do stupid shit when we’re drunk.”

He spun around, eyes narrowed.

“What is that supposed to mean?” His tone turned venomous, defensive.

“You know exactly what it means,” you bit back, refusing to back down.

Suddenly you heard the blast doors open and close.

"Time to go." Ian barely managed the words as he ran through the hallway passing your room.

You broke away from Qimirs space. Rushing after Ian.

"So I'm guessing Laro made it back to his ship."

"Yep." Was all that Ian revealed.

You caught up to him snatching the servo out of his hand.

"Get to the cockpit. Get us in the air. Rod and I will handle the drive."

Ian didn't have time to argue.

You got to the engine compartment to find Rod already prepping.

Jumping down, you almost landed on your arse.

Damn those drinks.

The ship started humming and rattling as you guessed you were now in the upper atmosphere.

You took the piece and fitted it to the stabilizer grabbing the wrench to bolt everything back in place.

"That damned thing better work." Ian yelled.

You secured the servo and closed the dampener.

"Punch it." You spoke through the coms.

You felt your hair rise as the hyperdrive kicked then lit up. A small energy surge knocked you back. A loud vroom sounded in your ears as you slouched against the wall.

You took another deep breath, steadying yourself and closing your eyes.

You were in hyperspace... safe. At least for now.

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

Thats all folks! Let me know in the comments what you guys think! The next few chapters are going to get intense :)

[tibby-art]

Given how much Scar’s character knows. (From him connecting series that we don’t think he should know about to his character. And him knowing things he shouldn’t…) I’m on the band wagon that Scar is some sort of Eldtrich God.

Righttt like, my best guess is he's some sort of dimension-hopper or something... a traveling trickster god.. mentally i'm at a corkboard w/all the red strings connecting to different scars trying to piece it all together, holding my head in my hands

It's like. Okay. He had an encounter with s8 tycoon scar where he stole his hat, and he killed him (?) but today he said he simply broke a wheel on the wagon and stole the hat? He says each hat has a story. Does Jellie's hat also have a story. Jellie obviously travels with him across every universe. He seems not to mind when people don't remember who he is but he gets VERY upset when people don't know who Jellie is; just thought that was interesting

Did P!Scar travel to the hermitcraft season 8 universe? After the moon hit the server? Did tycoon scar travel to the pirates universe? Or are they the same person and it's just a lie? When he first spawns in Pirates SMP he makes it a point to mention a mysterious flower crown in his inventory. He says it's an important crown, and it's the only one on the server. Buttercups??? (Sidenote he also spawns with some blocks of cyan glazed terracotta. Not sure what that's about but it's dangerously close to being light blue glazed aka the vex magic. I would have lost my mind)

At the very beginning Scar says his ship was called the Flying Jellie. The Flying Jellie. What if it wasn't a boat. What if it was a space ship. He calls it a pirate ship but that doesn't necessarily mean a boat, ti could be a space pirate ship. (He's done loopholes with his phrasing like this before, like today when he sold michela a sword that was "nearly full" durability, only to later clarify it was "nearly full-y depleted"). He says he won an important battle with the ship, but he lost the ship and the crew. I've seen people say that the crew is supposed to have been boatem, not sure if that's canon? Is the ship story even true?

He made references to both Pearl and Grian today, are they his Pearl and Grian from the pirates universe or is he referring to the hermits? He mentions Pearl by name to Sausage, who says he doesn't know who that is (and yet Sausage goes on to casually mention the moon at the mention of Pearl, either Sausage is also a dimension-hopper and he's bluffing or he has a subconscious connection to his other lives). He doesn't say Grian's name but he talks about a man on his crew who sunk with the ship that's very obviously meant to be Grian (says the man's head looked like a loaf of bread, that he wore red, would have been a Kite). He doesn't seem too upset about the loss.

He greets Cleo, Scott and Martyn when he first sees them even though they don't know who he is. Cleo flat-out says "I don't believe we've met" after he greets her by name. Interestingly enough when he first calls Martyn by name, Martyn doesn't question it (I know Martyn also has some Lore going on, maybe he recognizes Scar too) Also I saw someone point out that his pants resemble mayor scar's pants. Possible season 7 reference, season 8 reference with tycoon scar and a possible? season 9 reference?? with that flower crown???

I literally can't tell if he has this planned-out intricate lore that connects all of his minecraft SMP characters like Martyn does or if he's literally just saying random stuff for fun. His character could be lying about his entire backstory, we don't know. i have no idea what's important to the lore and what isn't. this man is such a trickster god its not even funny. tldr WHAT IS GOING ON

[brooooswriting]

For Carol: How about Carol growing slightly distant and neglecting R because she's scared she isn't enough since she always has to leave earth and be away for longer times. Some nice, juicy angst until it gets resolved. Happy ending with R living with Carol on her ship?

To the end of the galaxy

You met Carol and furry in a restaurant and it just immediately clicked. It was like that scene from hotel Transylvania, where they met and it chinged. You couldn’t take your eyes off of each other which caused Carol to walk into a table. After you stopped laughing you walked over to greet her, introducing yourself and she was quick to do the same.

The same week you went on the first date, followed by 12 more before she had to go to space again. It was a hard goodbye, you had met up nearly everyday and now you could barely keep in contact. But while the blonde offered you an easy way out several times you didn’t take it. You liked her, a lot, and you wanted to stay with her.

It worked out rather fine. She would come to earth as often as possible, staying some weeks and spending every day with you. Those weeks were always the highlights and you counted the days until she would come back.

But lately it has been different. She didn’t visit as often and if she did she only stayed for a couple of days, barely talking to you or touching you. She was distant and it was weird.

You were sitting on your couch with a friend/coworker when the door suddenly swung open. Carol walked in, her normal stoic face as she appeared in the living room. “Carol? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” You asked her but she barely answered, mumbling something about flying by and wanting to say hi before she walked upstairs.

“Do-Do you want me to go?” Your friend asked, sensing the weird mood that suddenly appeared. You shook your head, the blonde wasn’t going to talk to you anyway. “Are you guys okay?” He then asked, which was a harder question.

“I’m not sure but we’ll figure it out sooner or later. Now about that problem…” you discussed the reason he was actually there until later that evening. Once he went away you started to cook the captains favorite, hoping that it would lift her mood but it was no use.

She came down, thanked you for the food, she ate with you but she barely talked. It was so goddamn confusing. When you went to bed that night she didn’t hold you like she used to, she was on her phone till late at night which was when you realized it was over.

She had distanced herself from you months ago but you didn’t wanna believe it so you acted as if everything was fine.

The next morning Carol woke up confused, the place to her left was empty and cold which meant that you had been up for a longer while. Normally she was up way before you and normally she used to hug you close to herself until you woke up. She strolled through the room for a bit looking at the pictures you had up from her, you looked so happy on those. All the other pictures you had up where from the times she wasn’t there, you looked less happy. Your smile didn’t even reach your eyes.

When she came downstairs she sensed something was off. And the feeling got proved right when she saw you sitting at the table with a coffee in your hand, the other side empty. Everytime she visited you made coffee for the two of you. Before the blonde could even greet you you started to talk. “We should talk. Sit please.”

With a bad feeling and a heavy heart she sat down opposite of you, her hands stretching out to touch yours but you pulled back. “What do you want to talk about?” She asked, it was a stupid question. She knew what you wanted.

“I think we should break up. I know you’ve been thinking about it for a while and I don’t want to keep you here if you wanna go. Since I have to work today I will be gone for about 7 hours which should give you enough time to pack your things but you’re always welcome to get something if you forget something” your voice broke several times as you spoke, tears streaming down your face while they brimmed carols eyes. “I’m sorry this didn’t work out C, I’m sorry if I didn’t love you enough” you pressed a kiss to her head before leaving the house, giving Carol space to cry.

She knew that this was her fault, it was her fault that you broke up with her and it was her fault that you were crying right now but it felt so unfair to keep this relationship alive. She thought this was what she wanted, to give you freedom and to stop you from hurting when she wasn’t there. But now she felt like she hurt you a lot more.

You’ve never felt so terrible. You loved Carol with everything you had and now you might never see her again which was ripping you apart. Sure, the long distance thing was hard but you would happily wait for her if you at the end would be with her. But it was no use, it was over. She made it obvious that she didn’t want to be around you anymore.

That night you cried yourself to sleep, the pictures of the two of you taunting you but you didn’t have the heart to take them off. You were sure that you were going to marry Carol one day, that you guys were going to live a happily ever after but now you just thought that you were stupid.

Carol didn’t feel any better, she cried in her ship with Goose on her lap. She was still in the sky above your house, she couldn’t bring herself to fly away. This was what she wanted but now that she got it? It was terrible and she could feel that you weren’t feeling better. She was sure about it when she saw you leave your house for work, tear tracks still covering your pale face.

When you came home the whole house smelled like your favorite vanilla chai candle, pizza and like something burnt. At first you were scared that you left a candle or the stove on but when Goose came toward you, rubbing against your leg you put one and one together.

With careful steps you walked into the dining room to find Carol there, figuring out how to plate the pizza to make it look good and fancy. Or better said, worth your time. “So, what’s going on here?” You asked, trying to keep your voice as nonchalant as possible.

The blondes head shot up at the sound of your voice and the piece of pizza in her hand fell onto the plate. “Y/n, you’re home earlier than expected” she started, staring at you for a moment. “I, uhm, I got pizza from the place down the street. The one you like so much and I bought you new candles and I really want to talk to you.”

You sighed, you really didn’t feel like talking right now. Your job sucked, you were tired and your head hurt from all the crying but the way Carol looked like she was about to cry made you give in. “Fine, but quickly. I got a long day tomorrow” you sat down opposite of her, starting the piece of pizza on your plate.

“Look, I know I’ve been an ass for the last couple of months and I regret that. Trust me I do but I thought it would be for the best. I have to leave so so often that it felt wrong to tie you to me you know? You’re so amazing and kind and pretty and friendly and you deserve the world. You deserve someone who would destroy the world to save you, but I’ve been destroying you to save the world. And that’s just now right” you opened your mouth to say something, the small smile on your lips giving Carol a hint. “And yes I know that sounds like a cheesy fanfic or something” she said before you could. “But I mean it. I felt terrible about it and i thought when I distance myself we can both move on from each other and you can be happy. God, I was so wrong because I don’t think I can move on” she looked at the plate in front of her, suddenly not knowing where she was going anymore.

“Carol, I didn’t care about all that. I knew what I put myself into, I was okay with it. Sure the distance was hard but you’re worth it. I would go to the end of the galaxy for you” you promised, your hand holding hers on the table. You wanted to be mad at her, you really did but it wasn’t often that she opened up like that and you wanted to show her that it was okay to show feelings and open up.

“To the end of the galaxy?” She asked, titling her head to the side. You gave her a convincing nod with a small smile. “Then I think I know how to fix all of this”

Two weeks later you woke up in space, Carol laying behind you, her arm carefully wrapped around your waist as you looked outside. The captains solution was that you moved in with her and you loved it. Your old job was shit and there was nothing really that held you on earth, so you jumped on the idea. Space was the coolest thing ever and by now you knew how to fly it and everyday Carol taught you something new about the technology.

“I love you” she mumbled as she shuffled closer to you, burying her head in your hair. If she had known how amazing it would be to wake up with you every morning she would have asked you to come with her a long time ago.

“I love you too” you answered as you stared at your reflection in the glass. Goose settled between you and the window. You were happy to have your own little family from which you’d never have to be separated from again.

“But we are still renovating the ship” you added, laughing as you heard Carol groan. The ship was kinda sad from the inside and there was barely any place where you could cook or do anything else, so a renovation was the solution. The blonde hated that, it was so much work.

“Anything for you” you turned your head gave her a quick kiss before closing your eyes again. It was too early to be awake anyway.

[itsmewillful]

An Awkward Situation-OneShot

Main Masterlist

(Anakin Skywalker x gn!reader OneShot)

Readers POV

Word Count: 977

Warning(s): Swear words. Pinning, (a lot of it) and a make-out scene ;)

“Master, are you sure we should take an elevator on a ship that is slowly plummeting towards the planet?”

Your Master, Anakin Skywalker, scoffs and turns around to face you. His well-too-known grin plastered across his face.

“I’m the Master, you're the Padawan. And besides, this is Dooku’s private elevator, so there is only enough room for-”

“One person.” you interrupt. “Which is exactly why I don’t want to go in that. I don’t want to have to breath the same air as you for like five minutes-”

“Y/n, he wouldn’t expect two jedi to come out of an elevator meant for only one person, so it’s the best option we have to get up there.”

You groan out in annoyance at his point. He was right, it is a pretty good idea. The only problem being that you have a massive crush on your Master. And sharing a small space with him might make your soul leave your body. Not giving you enough time to respond, Anakin grabs a hold of your wrist and pulls you towards the lift.

He pushes a button for the lift to come up to the floor you both are currently on. When it arrives, your mouth drops to the ground at the sight. The elevator was barely big enough for even one person-let alone two to fit inside of! You gulp when you realise you truly were going to be sharing the same air as Anakin for at least five minutes.

You both began to squeeze into the small space and held your breaths as the doors slowly shut close. That’s when you realised how awkward this situation was. Anakin himself seemed to have a hard time with sharing the small space the both of you were in. Even though you weren’t facing him, you still knew by the way he breathed he wasn’t calm. You  turned around to face him and your face nearly collided with his broad chest. You blushed at this and looked up to face him with a slight pink tint to your face. Anakin looked down at you and made an unreadable facial expression, which confused you greatly. 

“I’m sorry Master,” you said with slight worry in your tone that you did something wrong.

Anakin remained unfazed and continued to stare you down with his unrecognizable gaze. Did I suddenly sprout horns or something? Why is he staring at me like I’m an unfamiliar species?

You cocked your head to the side a bit and looked him straight in the eyes.

“Are you alright?” you asked him curiously. He immediately broke his unbearing eye contact and looked up at the ceiling, his adams apple coming into view. You gulped at the sight and turned your face away from him. He truly is the best work of the Maker himself. He was drop-dead gorgeous. 

He chuckles when he notices your sudden change in demeanor. 

“You’re a lot of fun to mess around with-” He was suddenly cut off when the elevator came to an abrupt stop and the both of you went flying and landed on the floor in a pile of limbs. And of course, it just so happens you fell onto his lap. 

It took you a moment to realise that until you felt a strong hand grab a hold of your waist another went up to your chin.

“You alright, Y/n? Did you get hurt at all?” He asked with genuine concern in his voice. 

Your soul truly left your body when you noticed how much more awkward the situation had gotten. Your face turned a deep shade of red. How the fuck was he so calm with you on his lap? Or does he truly not think of me like this? 

That was until you moved your hips to get a tad bit more comfortable that he hissed at you and gripped your waist tighter.

Holy shit. Holy shit.

You looked up to meet his gaze and you noticed his eyes held a familiar glint of mischief. What the hell have you done now?

“I-I’m sorry Master, I didn’t mean to do that-” 

You were suddenly cut off when you felt his lips crash into yours in a passionate kiss. You of course were confused by all means. But you eventually leaned into the kiss and smiled into it slightly. You heard Anakin growl at you and you were pushed into the wall of the small lift. Your wrists were pinned above your head and Anakin got in between your legs and continued to kiss you. The more time went by, the hotter the both of you got-and the more hot you both got, the more heated the kiss became. Eventually, he stuck his tongue in you and began to fight for dominance. 

“-roger roger!” 

You and Anakin immediately disconnected from each other's lips and looked up to see a battle droid standing at the doorway.

“Hey! The Jedi are in-” Anakin raised his hand up and threw the droid into a wall on the opposite side of the lift. He slowly turned his head to face you. His hair was sticking to his forehead and his lips were a bit puffy from the heated kiss you two shared a moment ago. He smiled when you made eye contact with him.

“The lift must’ve stopped at a floor and the droids found it weird and investigated. Total party-poopers.” He chuckled.

You cringed at his choice of words and playfully slapped his hand that was still around your waist.

“But Anakin, are you not worried if the Jedi Council finds out about what just happened?” You asked with genuine worry in your voice.

“You know what, Y/n? Fuck the council and the code.” That’s when he waved his hand to shut the elevator door and your lips reconnected with his. 

[spiriteddreams]

flee(ting)

— a kiss that isn't meant to happen but does so anyway Pairing: Jing Yuan x Reader Warnings: angst, no comfort, reminiscing memories of someone (who isn't dead), possibly ooc jing yuan i just met the man hehe Word Count: ~1.3k A/N: the question was if i should write code or write a jing yuan fic and guess what i chose to do

time is fleeting. it is the steady drag of hands around a circle, the clock paying no mind to the desperation that people cling to in the hope that time will stop for just a moment and allow for just a little more. jing yuan finds that he curses time without knowing it. he stands behind his desk, hands behind his back as he looks at the papers scattered across his desk, his scrawled handwriting detailing reports from the cloud knights, logistics within the xianzhou alliance, and piled in the corner, never to be put away, are the sparsely gathered notes of your whereabouts.

he finds himself reaching for the papers, thumbing through the paper, some recent, others months, now years, old. he finds that he can’t quite remember the last time he saw you, and the memory of your last moments with him have begun to slip from the front of his memory. he hates the feeling. he curses the fact that he cannot hear your laughter echoing in his office any longer, as if your own memory was pulling away, trying to flee from the grasp he has so selfishly held onto for so long. you were there, and then you weren’t. an expedition gone wrong, a ship attacked and no sign of communication, now labeled as a closed case by the xianzhou alliance. but those close to jing yuan know that he’s never truly given up on it. instead he finds his mind drifting back to the day of your departure.

“don’t worry about me,” you stand proud at the docks, decorated outfit a sign of your standing in luofu. both yours and his companions had allow you both some space, privacy amongst the boxes of cargo and decorated architecture. jing yuan has no reason to doubt your abilities, after all, you had risen in the ranks alongside him and he is more than confident in your own skill. that doesn’t mean he isn’t worried. he can fight in wars, lead soldiers into the dark unknown and yet the thought of you leaving for an expedition scares him more than he would like to admit. it’s the nagging feeling that tugs in the back of his mind, warning him to ask you to stay, just one more time.

but jing yuan had always been good at hiding his intentions, presenting a calm and collected front to offer some semblance of comfort to those that look up at him. and he finds that his facade is a bit too easy to put on as he chuckles softly at your words.

“you will make all of us proud,” his voice is uncharacteristically soft, and he’d be damned if his companions heard the way he spoke to you in private. “i look forward to your return.” 

you smile softly, offering him a reassuring smile, “i’ll be back before you know it.” he isn’t sure if the smile is meant to reassure him or you. there are unsaid words between the two of you, a delicately drawn line that the neither of you have dared to cross. instead, over the years you’ve resorted to a game of cat and mouse, both of you taking turns to play predator and prey. what went from teenage games has become something more, and yet neither of you had the courage to cross the line. he curses time in this moment, wishing that he could have just a bit longer to sort out this poorly woven tapestry that the two of you have created. he wants to tie the loose ends and seal it off, but you’re already slipping from his grasp.

“jing yuan—“ hands cup your cheeks before you can finish speaking and he pulls you close, lips desperately finding yours as your hands fly up to steady yourself on him. he’s moving all too fast, heart thundering and mind racing as he pulls away, wide eyed and apologies on his lips. but they die when he sees the subtle movement of you chasing after him, hands curling around his clothes as your lips tremble. you stare at him in shock but make no move to pull away.

“come back to me, promise me,” he breathes out. his hands fall to your waist as if to steady you and to keep him grounded. he doesn’t care if anyone else is around any longer. let them see for all he cares, and let them know how much he will miss you while you’re away. 

“of course,” you sound breathless, eyes searching his. you smile gently and let your hand come up to gently cup his cheek. your other hand goes to brush away the hair that has fallen into your face. you stay like that for a moment, indulging in one second, two seconds, three seconds— you pull away.

your hands move to the back of your head, fingers tugging at the red ribbon in your hair. it’s silk of the finest kind, and yet you pull it free in one swift movement.

“take this as my promise,” you offer it to him with a smile that almost worries him. “give it back to me when i return.” he smiles in amusement but indulges in letting his fingers drag across your palm as he takes it from your hand. 

then time calls back to you both as the ship horn sounds, a signal to prepare to leave. he swallows thickly when neither of you make an effort to go. no doubt your companions will come searching so he takes the step forward again and pulls you close, sealing every unsaid word with a kiss that has you grasping at him to stay close. you two aren’t meant to be doing this in secret. you aren’t meant to be behind cargo boxes like teenagers, holding onto one another as if you were dying in his arms. and yet here you are.

“i should go,” you step away first and jing yuan feels his chest constrict. he can’t read the emotions in your eyes, the way you can’t meet his gaze, the way your fingers tremble, and the way you take deep breaths as if to calm yourself. but you cast aside his worries when you shake your head and throw your arms around him, hugging him tight. his hands find placement at your back and you stay like that until your companions find you locked in embrace.

“general.” a sharp voice cuts him from his daydreams and jing yuan looks at the holographic image of yukong standing by his desk. she looks upset, more so than usual and he puts on an easy expression as he asks what’s wrong.

“we have guests from the astral express, tingyun has informed me they are on their way. we’ll send over more information as they arrive.” he nods as she disappears. jing yuan looks back over at the papers and sighs. his hand comes up to thumb at the ribbon in his hair and he asks if you are still out there and well.

time is fleeting. and jing yuan wishes you had promised to return, not avoided the words as if you knew that you wouldn’t return. he wishes you didn’t give him the ribbon, and he wishes you never kissed him farewell.

— — —

extra: so why is it, that when he receives word of travellers from the astral express arriving in luofu that he catches a glimpse of your face amongst the group that has come. why is it, that when tingyun and yukong greet you with some familiarity, you shy away and apologize that you don’t quite recognize them. and why is it, that it hurts so damn much when you look at him with no remembrance of who he is. the ribbon in his hair feels like it’s slipping.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3 © spririteddreams

[red-elric]

i think what a lot of ppl miss about the nuance when it comes to the retcon is that the POINT of it is that its a bad ending. homestuck is designed to be a tragedy and it was never going to end well; its frankly ridiculous to try and shoehorn in a scenario where none of the current main characters are dead when the story is ABOUT death. its not narratively satisfying at all like this! but thats not what the kids wanted (and, more to the point, thats not what the FANS wanted. newer fans DEFINITELY miss the fact that homestuck was written as a conversation between hussie and the fans, a conversation that turned into an argument halfway through and led to a lot of things being taken in bad faith on both sides. but i digress; this is a watsonian post)

the retcon powers are very VERY explicitly described as the ability to change the alpha timeline. the 'whats supposed to happen' of it all, the premeditated narrative the story was written to fill. conversely, when aranea used the ring of life to come back and meddle, she is explicitly described as 'causing a doomed timeline.' and like, the thing about doomed timelines is that theyre meant to happen as much as theyre meant to be fixed. theyre how paradox space accounts for and incorporates time travel, and the existence of the doomed timeline is often NECESSARY for the alpha timeline to function. thats how you get davesprite, thats how the aradiabot that brought gamzee's honkHONK code back from his crazy murder timeline contributed to doc scratch's creation, thats why every dead dave helped the alpha timeline dave figure out what to do. if vriska was meant to have never died in the first place the timeline wouldve been doomed long before game over. the ring went to the wrong person, and thats the kind of simple fix sburb was expecting to solve with some time travel to get things back on track

the ring was supposed to go to someone else. probably vriska! from the alpha timelines perspective, it wasnt that long after her confrontation with john that she really changed and grew as a character. that she became someone who deserved a second chance. imagine: john uses his retcon as normal time travel, the way sburb comprehended it through the limitations of its code. he takes the ring before aranea can, goes to the dream bubbles, and has another conversation with vriska. maybe she doesnt even really want the ring anymore, and thats exactly the kind of thing that would convince john to give it to her. and she agrees, because he tells her terezi is waiting for her. they go back, they have the final fight, and people die. maybe they dont come back. but its the group of characters who earned the ending, who we watched grow up for three years

but thats not what happened, and it was never going to be what happened, because as narratively satisfying as it could have been? john and terezi wanted something different. john wanted everything to be OVER and terezi wanted the chance to make a different choice, even if it was wrong. theyre selfish; theyre kids. theyre tired of being characters in a story, of someone else pulling their strings. thats what typheus's choice was about, you know? and john made the wrong choice. some other version of john could have fixed things the "right" way, had our john decided to die instead. to accept the consequences of the doomed timeline and let pardox space fix it. hell, between roxys first instinct to just sit and let the void take her and terezis pointy horns offering a counterpoint we have some pretty blatant devil/angel on the shoulder imagery! and john making the same wrong choice he did when terezi first told him to fly to the seventh gate, except this time there was no davesprite on angel wings, no one left alive he cared about enough to listen to. because as much as john felt like he was SUPPOSED to fall for roxy, the girl version of his fathers lover, someone strongly associated with his half of karkat's shipping chart but without the complication of being a lesbian, someone HUMAN to repopulate the world with cut out of his apocalypse movie fantasies...... terezis way of thinking has always appealed to him more. because as much as he pretends its not true, john doesnt like to take things lying down, and he doesnt like when other people do either. he gets bored! hes attracted to the danger and morally grey self confidence terezi and vriska exude, so. he listened to terezi, and they brought vriska back.... without any of the character development she had gone through.

and its a bad ending, because of course it would be. and thats the point :) it was stupid to think two kids could meddle with the fate of the universe and it was stupid to think that these kids could have a happy ending so easily. but can you really blame them?

[forlornmelody]

Icarus & The Sun

Rating: Mature (Things get hot and heavy but no actual smut)

Fandom: Good Omens

Ship: Crowley/Aziraphale

Summary:  My take on the 1941 kiss, or is it?

Note: Mind the tags, will you? This ain't your mum's 1941 kiss.

-----

“There must be something I can do for you in return?” Surely the angel has realized by now how ridiculous he seems when he looks at Crowley like that. 

“Forget it, will you?” If Crowley were any other demon, he’d walk all over him. “Right.” Crowley clears his throat shifting the conversation and the Bentley to safer places. Aziraphale would be scandalized if he had any idea of what he was offering. “Spot of business to do–”

“Have you ever wondered what it was like?”

The Bentley jerks to a stop. A bomb nearly falls on them but Crowley whisks it out of existence with an automatic wave of his hand. He’s too focused on the white knuckles of his other hand to pay attention to much else. ‘Lot going on. That’s why he’s not hearing the angel right. Right? “What?”

Aziraphale giggles girlishly, only to swallow it with a cough. “I mean. They do it all the time. The humans, I mean.”

Bloody hell, Angel. “Do what?” Crowley dares to glance at the angel, praying-well, not praying exactly –that the shadow of his sunglasses hide where his gaze is pointing. No. Aziraphale’s not blushing. It’s the fiery glow of London’s streets. Yeah. That’s it. 

The angel nudges the Bentley into park. And then his fingers ghost across Crowley’s once free hand. “Touch each other.”

Aziraphale’s fingertips are as soft as the whisper of an owl’s feathers. They light a spark on the back of Crowley’s hand–one that travels up his spine and back down. He forgets to breathe. 

“You alright, Crowley?” Aziraphale starts to pull his hand away, before Crowley grabs onto it for dear life. 

“Don’t stop,” Crowley chokes out, squeezing Aziraphale’s fingers between his own. Dear Satan, if the other demons saw him now. 

His angel smiles as bright as the sun. He clears his throat, glancing down at the hand still clutched between Crowley’s and the demon lets go as if he had been holding onto a hot iron. “Thank you,” Aziraphale says with the softest chuckle. With a boldness that always catches Crowley by surprise, he grazes those finger tips across his hand again, but he goes farther this time, letting them fly up inside Crowley’s jacket, stilling as his palm finds his beating heart. The angel lets out a soft gasp, his finger tip matching the rhythm that hammers inside Crowley's chest. His lips stay parted, and Crowley’s tongue darts out of his mouth ever so slightly, as if he could taste the angel from here. “You’re so warm.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” Crowley means it as a joke, but it comes out in a desperate rasp. Clearly no one who has touched a demon has ever actually said they were cold hearted. Has…has any other demon been touched like this? 

Aziraphale’s fingers brush the satin of Crowley’s shirt, and one finger grazes the space between two buttons, just barely touching his skin. Something inside Crowley snaps. He scoops up the angel’s hand, drawing it up to his lips to kiss. His eyes watch Aziraphale for a reaction, any reaction. The angel says nothing, though that blush– definitely a blush –spreads across his round cheeks. 

“Angel…” Crowley whispers, half-begging, half-warning.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale’s bright eyes search his own, his smile growing wider and wider…

The demon feels as if his body is being pulled through the center of the universe. With a trembling hand, Crowley dares to brush his fingers along the angel’s jaw. “Aziraphale,” he whispers.

Crowley isn’t sure who kisses who first—only that he would dare to never breathe again if that meant he could keep kissing him. Aziraphale presses deeper, drinking the demon in the same way he did his first goblet of wine—all haste and hunger, and Crowley can’t bear to tell him to slow down. That angel can’t decide on where to keep his hands, and so they wander from winding underneath Crowley's hat to grasp at his hair–to his shoulders, his back, his arms…Grinning against Crowley’s mouth, Aziraphale runs his fingers innocently…or perhaps not, to Crowley’s belt. 

Finally, Aziraphale pulls away from kissing Crowley, biting his swollen lip. Crowley didn’t even think about biting. Oh how he wants to now….”Is this alright?” The angel tugs on Crowley’s belt ever so slightly. Funny how Crowley hadn’t noticed how tight his pants had become. 

“Yes . ”  

Aziraphale’s fingers fumble as he works on the buckle, and Crowley is half-tempted to wrench his hands out of the way to speed things up but his knuckles feel oh so wonderful against his crotch–the belt gets tossed into the backseat. The angels fingers wander into Crowley’s pants–

Crowley’s eyes fly open. He sits up, shivering in his own sweat. Even the heat of his flat can’t match that of an angel’s touch. Bumping into his desk, Crowley remembers the day he watched the new archangel leave. How he waited for what felt like an eternity for Aziraphale to change his mind-to step out of that elevator with a laugh “Oh, Crowley, I didn’t mean it!” But that moment didn’t come. 

Does Aziraphale dream of him? Does he sleep? Does Aziraphale ever get the chance to sleep? 

Wandering into the atrium, Crowley gazes up at the sky. 

[lillified]

regarding your piece “outlaws” is it intended to be like an apartment or a spaceship? until corrected, and probably still after, i’m choosing to believe that swindle is doing the equivalent of living in his van

that being said, where *do* the other (they don’t let him inside 💔) decepticons live? I don’t think it’s been shown thus far

hey, that’s a great question!

the “outlaws” piece you see is from an earlier point in the war, and the location is Swindle’s passenger ship, The Knave. It isn’t meant to be a living space, but he’s converted it and uses it a bit like an RV/motor home. Since he spent most of his time (and kept a lot of his stuff) in there, it was one of his prized possessions. In the Outlaws pic he has it parked in a mostly Autobot occupied part of downtown Protihex, where he operates it like a caravan to sell weapons and things to patrolling soldiers.

This actually brings up a great opportunity to talk a bit more about locations, specifically airships and spaceships (I promise it’s relevant to the main Cons);

So, there are many different types of aircraft (beyond the Bots who can physically fly, obviously). On the smallest side you get tactical drones and fighter craft, which are either remotely manned or manned by one Bot, who physically controls the ship by hooking up to a sensory chamber-style pod. These are much less ideal than having a flightforme, but were developed out of necessity, given the central Cybertronian government and fliers have tended to be on opposite sides at different points of history (this trend remains true for the Autobots, who are at a severe deficiency).

Next up are scout ships, which fit a small squadron of Cybertronians (think the size of the X wing in starwars).

After that you get into passenger ship territory, where aircraft have multiple rooms. Swindle’s ship fits this category. They aren’t intended as mobile residences and moreso exist to carry large quantities of ‘Bots over a longer distance, like a train or a cruise ship with basic amenities, but as the war progressed it was hard not to find different uses for them.

Passenger ships can be very specialized, and the only major difference between the larger varieties and true warships is that passenger ships aren’t outfitted with guns or any other involved defenses. Ferry ships are extremely massive passenger ships designed in Nova’s expansion era with the intent of carrying nearly a city’s worth of people across space, to populate new colonies. As suggested, most of these ships were built well before the war, so their defense capabilities weren’t geared for conflict.

The last category, as suggested, are warships. Most warships were manufactured during the war, but there are some that were recovered from pre-Quintesson era. These can range in size from the capacity of a small hotel to an entire military base, or even a city. Their scope is only limited by the ability to fuel them, and many warships were designed to act as mobile camps in the event of crisis and exodus.

As of the current day, the Decepticons have essentially been exiled. The last major conflict on Cybertron put the Autobots in control of most major territories and left both sides materially decimated. Until they can regroup and establish resource control again, the only real strategy the Decepticons have is to lay low and survive.

This leaves Megatron, Starscream, Soundwave, Lockdown, Ravage, and Knockout on the Determination, which is a small scale warship. Like many slapdash offensive craft, it is flimsy and unreliable, but currently their only real option.

You haven’t seen most of it, but I can give you some sneak peeks:

you’ll see what these are for very soon…

As of right now, that’s all I have for you on spacecraft! I hope that answered your question :) thanks!

[sitp-recs]

HD Erised 2023 - Sitp recs

Hello hello! I’ve been trying to get back into the reading zone and Erised came at the perfect time. I thought I’d share my favorites as I slowly make my way through it, mostly to keep track of my reads and also because it’s been so long since I did a fest list (please don’t mind my very much incomplete Fan Fair list while I kick off another one 🙈 so much to read, so little time!). These were great fun and I can’t wait to see what’s coming up next!

🧹 Clear Skies, Full Hearts by @sorrybutblog (E, 16k)

Harry loves everything about playing professional Quidditch – the rush of flying, the rush of winning, the rush of getting off with rival seeker Draco Malfoy. Harry’s the highest scoring rookie Seeker in the history of the League. He’s also, inexplicably, obsessively, hooking up with Draco. When Draco unexpectedly quits the League and disappears from Harry’s life, Harry doesn’t stop wondering what it all meant and if he’ll ever get another chance to find out.

🪴 solemates by @shiftylinguini (E, 17k)

It starts because Harry has no self-control when it comes to meaningless and entertaining competition. Actually no, that's not quite right. It starts because Harry is absolutely plastered.

🎨 Thickets by @wolfpants (E, 17k)

When Draco returns to the UK after two decades of building his career as an internationally-renowned artist to look after his ailing, estranged father, he crosses paths with his former flame, Harry Potter, in the most unexpected way.

🚎 Sugarplum by @mallstars (E, 27k)

"Draco," said Potter, a little breathless, a little cheerful. "Hi." He smelled of coconut lotion, Cockroach Clusters and a sloppy ironing charm, his scent crowding Draco's overworked mind from the moment he stepped onto the bus. Lifting one hand off the steering wheel, Potter gave a small wave. He wore gloves. Fingerless, the leather black against the sunlight. Leather. In August.

🧶 we have heard on high by @oflights (E, 34k)

Reeling from the fallout of a bad breakup, Harry decides to find out who his soulmate is. The bad news: it's Draco Malfoy. The good news: Malfoy doesn't seem to know they're soulmates. The worst news: Harry might be falling for him anyway.

🇫🇷 À Bon Chat by @oknowkiss (E, 35k)

Draco Malfoy didn’t intend to lead a life of crime after the war. It’s just that being good had turned out so incomprehensibly boring. Now he's thirty-five, a fully redeemed member of society, the darling of the wizarding social pages, and a newly minted consultant for Gawain Robards' Investigative Research division. In his spare time, he enjoys good whisky, casual sex, and moonlighting as an art thief.

🥘 Nothing Gold Can Stay by @moonflower-rose (E, 40k)

One summer evening, Harry Potter vanished in the middle of dinner with his friends. Four days later he came back. Sort of. Draco Malfoy is on the case.

🐺 Jasmine in Bloom by @lqtraintracks (E, 41k)

This is not something Draco can have in his life… Potter overturning all that he’s carefully cultivated. They’re not compatible and never will be. Draco’s been playing with fire. It just so happens that he likes how Potter smoulders before being allowed close enough to burn.

⏳The Unplottable Time Conundrum by @writcraft (E, 45k)

When the past starts bleeding into the present at Grimmauld Place, an old academic article pulls Draco Malfoy out of his life of luxury. Haunted by the memory of a fleeting post-war kiss and thrust into the ghostly spaces inhabited by Unspeakable Harry Potter, Draco’s easy life is about to get a whole lot more complicated.

🪩 Never Mind the Bollocks by @the-sinking-ship (E, 118k)

If someone told Harry six months ago that by autumn he would be single, living on whisky and toast, and dancing the night away with Draco Malfoy, he would have told them to get their head checked. And yet, here he was.