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inksmellsnice · 3 years

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Title: The Tour Guide Rating: General Audiences Words: 1577 Pairings: Bumblebee/Blades Summary: With Earth and Cybertron finally safe, Bumblebee officially joins the Rescue Bots Academy as a full-time mentor. Naturally, Blades overthinks everything except how much he may mean to his old friend. External Reading: FFN , AO3 Author’s Notes: @secretsolenoid for @toraokami303 !! So sorry it’s late. ;u; The prompt was Blades helping Bee unwind by taking him somewhere scenic on Griffin Rock. In the end, it ended up being more about how they got to going somewhere scenic than the actual scenic location, but I hope you enjoy it all the same! I also included a reference to one of the other prompts of Optimus relaxing, because I almost did that one instead. Yes, absolutely, Optimus needs a vacation. Let this mech rest.

“…And that’s the plan to get Bumblebee to stay at the Academy full-time when he comes to visit tomorrow!” Blades said with a flourish, gesturing once again to a map of Griffin Rock, pinned haphazardly to the wall of his quarters and absolutely slathered in sticky notes, looking to Cody for a reaction.

Blade’s map included the site of every daring adventure Rescue Team Sigma-17 had gone on (that Bumblebee hadn’t accompanied them for). A variety of other dangerous locations were also noted, and Blades seemed a little too hopeful something bad would happen at one of them during the tour… not that there was any way said tour could really be completed in a day; it had taken the copter-bot all afternoon just to explain it. Cody smiled, concerned but amused. “I thought Bumblebee already agreed to teach full time?”

Blades straightened up and stammered. “W-Well, I mean, technically yes, but I need to show him just how exciting Griffin Rock is so he doesn’t even think of changing his mind!”

Cody leaned forward in his seat on Blades’ berth. “But what happened to all of the things you said you wanted to do with him when you had time? You never got to sing karaoke together, or play video games, or just… take a walk and catch up without some disaster cutting you o-“

“Booooring.” Blades waved his hand dramatically. “I told you I wanted to do those things years ago¸ Cody! You were like… half your height!” He crossed his arms and took a dignified stance. “I’ll have you know you’re not the only one who has matured since then.”

“Uh huh.”

It only took Cody staring his old friend down for a moment for Blades to sink on his pedes. “…And, well… Bumblebee is a war hero now. I mean, he already was, and of course even before that he was my hero, but now he’s saved Earth and Cybertron twice! Which means his tour has to be twice as impressive! I still can’t believe he’s going to be coming here to teach with us when he could be signing autographs or going on late-night talk shows, or… or…”

Blades’ started pacing. Once again, Cody knew, Blades was overthinking things, but saying that would just make him overthink more. He frowned and tried to choose his words carefully. “It just doesn’t seem like you included much time to be yourself and spend time with your friend.”

(And obvious crush, Cody thought, but he wasn’t going to open that can of worms when Blades already looked like a single additional atom of anxiety could make him shatter like glass. Now was not the time to meddle.)

“Whaaaaat, of course I did! I’ll be giving him the tour and being my whole, extremely cool and heroic self the entire time!” Blades looked at the map again, perplexed. “Was something in my pitch not clear? Do I need to go over it again?”

“N-No!” Cody shot up from his seat with placating hands. “No, I got it the first time, buddy, and I just remembered I have… a thing. In a place. Somewhere el-”

Cody was saved from thinking up an elaborate excuse by a knock at the door.

“Blades? You in there?”

It was Bumblebee.

Blades squeaked and looked at the wall clock. 6:30! Bumblebee arrived half an hour ago and he wasn’t there to welcome him! The medic scrambled to the door of his room, Cody all but forgotten, smashing the button to slide open the door. “B-Bumblebee! You’re here!”

“Is everything okay? Figured you’d be outside when I-”

“When you got here! Right! I meant to be and then I just…” Blades put his hands on his helm in a panic. “I am so sorry, I-!”

Bumblebee stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Blades, cutting his flailing friend off and chuckling. “Easy, pal. I was just worried is all.”

“…Oh,” Blades responded meekly. Bumblebee pat him on the back and Blades sunk into the reunion hug, returning the embrace with a tight, long squeeze before backing away. “Yeah, I was…uh…” He rubbed the back of his helm sheepishly.

Cody smirked. “Blades was just telling me about the elaborate tour he was going to take you on, all over Griffin Rock, just the two of you.”

(Okay, maybe now was the time to meddle just a little bit.)

Blades’ fans clicked on and he glanced at Cody with equal parts betrayal and flusterment before turning his attention to the map that had looked brilliant up until the moment Bumblebee entered the room and now looked like the rambling mess of a crazed fanbot. But Bumblebee had seen it, no turning back now. “Right! Exactly!” Blades scrambled over to the map and gestured to it. “There’s so many places I wanted to show you and so many stories I haven’t told you yet! I figured tonight you’d get settled in, and then tomorrow we could start at Old Canyon Road. One time, Jerry was transporting a truck full of chattering teeth and uranium, and…”

Bumblebee stared at the map with a flat expression and drooped optics.

“…You don’t look excited.” Blades frowned.

“Oh, uh, it looks awesome Blades,” he said with a forced smile, “and we should totally go check all of these things out, but…” Bumblebee chose his words carefully – Blades had clearly put a lot of effort into this, no matter how casual he tried to act about it now. As it was, he felt bad for not putting on a face for his friends’ sake sooner. “Was the plan to do all of this in one day?”

“…Too much?”

Bumblebee smiled, amused, much like Cody had before. “Maybe a little.” The helicopter sighed and his shoulders slumped. “Hey,” Bumblebee put a hand on Blades’ shoulder. “I’m not shooting it down or anything, but what’s the rush? I’m here full time now, remember?”

“I know, but…” Blades looked away from Bumblebee, to Cody, who coaxed him to keep going. “Bumblebee, you’ve gone on so many amazing adventures and saves worlds and I’ve just… I can fit nearly everything I’ve done on this map. I just thought if I didn’t show you how exciting life with us can be right away, you might change your mind and go find something cooler to do.”

Bumblebee stared at Blades for a moment. He always knew Blades looked up to him, but how long had he been feeling this down on himself? “Blades,” Bumblebee closed the distance between them, smiling softly. “I didn’t agree to teach at the Academy because I thought every day would be some big adventure. Heck, if I’m honest, I’m kind of glad that I can finally relax a little, you know? Even Optimus has been taking it a little easier.”

Blades blinked at the idea of Optimus relaxing, momentarily distracted by the strange mental image of the idolized titan chilling out with a data pad in an oil bath with a cup of high-grade. In a less serious discussion, he wouldn’t have been able to keep a straight face, but they could talk about that later.

“None of us wanted to be fighting a war forever,” Bumblebee continued. “Besides, Griffin Rock is a nice place and all, but I didn’t come here for the island…”

Bumblebee took Blades’ hand in his with a gentle squeeze, and Blades’ optics instantly locked onto his incredibly soft ones.

“…I came here to spend more time with the people I care about.”

Blades almost fainted right then and there, because when did the bot he admired more than anybody else come to care so strongly about him in return? “O-Oh… In that case… maybe tomorrow we could take a walk and catch up…?” Blades stared at their hands for a moment, and found himself emboldened to interlace their fingers, but once he had he didn’t have the nerve to look up at Bumblebee’s reaction.

(Cody smiled and quietly made his exit while the two bots were focused on each other. Now was definitely the time to meddle.)

But, after a moment that felt like an eternity, Bumblebee bent down into Blades’ field of vision, smiling.

“Why not now? You can’t tell me you don’t know a great place to watch the sunset around here. Then after, maybe we could finally get around to that karaoke session you always talk about?”

And with the way Bumblebee looked at him, the way he said that – his hushed voice and piercing optics - it almost sounded they were discussing a date.

Or maybe Blades’ imagination was getting away from him. Either way, he knew his answer.

“That sounds perfect.”

#bumbleblades #maccadam #rescue bots #rescue bots academy #tfrb #transformers #tfrba #secret solenoid #secret solenoid 2021 #beeblades #aligned continuity #one shot #bumblebee #blades #cody burns

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inksmellsnice · 3 years

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HEY GUYS I've been pretty quiet huh? But I AM writing fic! In fact, I'm writing fic for Z I N E S !!! If you like Cygate, you'll want a copy of this zine. Trust me. I have seen so much talented work, and soon you can too.

HEY GUYS IT’S CYGATE ZINE PREVIEW TIME!!!

For those of you who didn’t know I’m gonna be in a zine??? (TWO ZINES, in fact??? I’m losing my mind.)

Whirl has always been an important part of Cyclonus and Tailgate’s love story. How did everything go down from his point of view? Pre-orders opening soon! PREPARE YOUR WALLETS and follow the zine @cygatezine !! It also has a TWITTER!

#transformers #tf idw #mtmte #cygate

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inksmellsnice · 5 years

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Title: Unfocused Rating: K Words: 750 Pairings: Antauri x Reader

Summary: Request for Anon because sure, why not? Reader is a robot monkey with a huge crush on Antauri, who somehow gets up the nerve to ask him to teach her to meditate. It goes as well as you'd expect. External Reading: AO3

"You're tense."

Of all the things Antauri could have said to break the not-calm-at-all silence between the two of you, of course he strayed from his usual habit of being a cryptic riddle-slinging nightmare and picked the most obvious statement on Shuggazoom. Your shoulders were at your ears and your breathing was shallow. Sweat dripped from your brow. "Yeah, uh, your room is very warm, what with the hot spring in it and all. How... how does that not create a mess if the robot loses equilibri-"

"Shhh. If I am to begin teaching you the ways of the power primate, you must first learn to calm your mind."

"The power primate?" You stammered. "I just wanted you to teach me how to meditate a little, to help me be a little calmer! I never said anything about going full power primate student!"

Antauri looked both perplexed and not surprised in the slightest, a look only he could pull off. "Why not? You seem to be a prime candidate."

You blushed. It was the best complement you could get from him. "Really?"

"I can sense your unharnessed energy. Given time... and relaxing your shoulders, I can see you wielding the power primate quite well. Now, close your eyes once more and breathe deeply."

You did as told, putting your hands into the same cliche "Look, I'm meditating!" pose as Antauri for good measure.

You breathed in.

You breathed out.

You breathed in.

"Slower."

You breathed out like you'd been kicked in the stomach. You could feel Antauri's gaze on you, questioning your intentions. "I-I'm sorry, this is just so weird. I've never done anything like this before." You'd never been alone with him before, in his room where everything was so simply him and there was this unique musk of aloe and sage. You could feel him gently judging your every move with nothing but total faith in you and sometimes hovering over you too close - WAY TOO CLOSE - with his neutral stare that was so hard to decipher the exacts of but never harbored bad will for anyone he considered an ally. Last time you tried to sneak a glance you opened your eyes to find him staring right in your face and his eyes were so deep and-

"I can't do this." You stood up and rolled your shoulders, trying to gulp down a hint of blushing brought about by your own thoughts. "Sorry, Antauri, I wasted your time."

"Not at all." He smiled. The blush broke through, but he either didn't notice or said nothing. "Trying to learn a new skill is never a waste. I still fully believe you are capable though; perhaps some other time. Feel free to come see me when another attempt strikes you."

"Uh, yeah." Awkward silence. You forgot how to move. "....Bye!" You rushed out the door and immediately relaxed once there was space between you and Antauri's quarters. Time, he said. Maybe with time you'd get over this dumb little crush, but so far you'd had zero luck in that department. You knew the chances he returned your feelings - the chances he was interested in romance at all - were slim to none, but for some reason you couldn't just say it and get shot down properly. Besides, he should have known by now, with how perceptive he was. Was he really that clueless about your feelings or was he simply not saying anything to be polite?

Somewhere between beating yourself up and questioning if Antauri had a mental block, you realize he'd said to visit "when" you felt like trying meditation again. "When", not "if."

"Doodle," you said under your breath, because Antauri always chose his words carefully and was never wrong. Somehow, you'd decide to try again later and likely find yourself in that same awkward situation alone with him, flustered and desperately trying to calm down because both spending time with your crush and the idea of harnessing the ancient power he talked about with such interest - interest he'd never have for you, you were certain - was legitimately appealing.

Maybe next time you'd tell him why you were actually sweating.

#x reader #antauri x reader #srmthg #srmthfg

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inksmellsnice · 5 years

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Warnings: Major Spoilers for Avengers: Endgame Title: On Relativity Chapter 3: Family as a Coping Mechanism

Rating: T (Mild language) Words: 1330 Summary: The idea of the people you fight with being the people you drink and sing and love with was so built into his culture, so absent from the Avengers, maybe that was why he'd been so enamored the Guardians after his short time aboard their ship. External Reading: FFN, AO3

"Get it together."

It takes Thor a moment to process that Rocket had just slapped him, and it was decidedly the least helpful thing the rabbit could have done. If he wasn't so upset, and perhaps if the one slapping him had been a little bigger, he would have returned with a blow of his own, but his emotions slowed his reflexes and meant Rocket kept ranting before he could do or say anything. Thor was so close to going over the edge at this point that he didn't catch all of it, but the last part. That last part. That stood out.

"...and help me get my family back?"

Family. The idea of the people you fight with being the people you drink and sing and love with was so built into his culture, so absent from the Avengers, maybe that was why he'd been so enamored the Guardians after his short time aboard their ship. That was obviously what the strange band of space-farers was if the snarky stories he'd heard so often were anything to go by, but...

Family. Thor had never actually heard Rocket call them that before.

"...Okay."

"Are you crying?"

"No," Thor choked. "Yes."

"Get it together. You can do this." Rocket paused, mustering up his best attempt at being soothing. "You can do this, all right?"

But he couldn't. He'd wound up running away, leaving Rocket to handle the entire mission by himself while he spent time they didn't have with his mother. Looking back, Thor realized Rocket had very uncharacteristically never given him a hard time about that. In additional retrospect, Rocket along with Hulk had gone out of their way to find him, neither one with a metal suit or a magic hammer or any way to travel to New Asgard quicker than the back of a pickup truck.

Rocket may not have used the word "family" very often, but he lived it. That, Thor knew, was why he'd jumped at the invitation to wedge himself into this strange little crew, if only for a short time until destiny found him again. Now, Rocket had ran off somewhere crying, Groot had followed shortly after, and the rest of Thor's new family was dead quiet, the only notable movement being Mantis' glowing antennae paired with a pitiful look directed at the pilot.

"Why not simply apologize to him then?" Mantis asked, as if anybody needed emphatic abilities to get the massive aura of guilt coming off Quill.

"I don't..." Quill ran his hand through his hair. "I don't know how to take something like that back."

"It's simple," Drax said. "You walk up to Rocket and say you take your devastating insult against his five years of emotional trauma and grief back." Quill lets out a single dry chuckle and rubbed his temples, but after a few more moments of quiet his eyes widened with a realization.

"...Five years," Quill breathed. "He's been mourning us longer than he's known us."

With that, Thor could take no more and left the bridge after Groot.

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

Maybe it was a little devious of Groot to use Rocket's current "I missed you so much and I love you and I want to spend more time with you," state of emotional vulnerability to finally get his dad to try Arcade Defender, but shooting pixels into oblivion really did seem to be helping the violent pilot calm down.

"I am Groot."

"Yeah, I see the portal."

"I am Groot!"

"No, I don't want to waste the power-up alright? I'm saving it for - damnit."

"I am Groot!"

"No, I blew up because you're a distracting little twig! Quit backseat driving or... whatever you're..." Rocket noticed Groot looking at the door and turned to see Thor poking his head in. The asgardian had been quietly watching the moment, not wanting to interrupt. "Oh. Hey. You coming in or what?"

Thor put on his best smile for his friend (the tear stains were still visible) and sauntered into the room, eyeing Groot's game console. "Ah yes, Tree's Earth game! Which button do you press to dance tauntingly at your 99 opponents?"

"What?"

"Er, nothing. Forget I said anything."

"Mmm." Rocket started a new game. Groot grinned ear to ear over how much Dad was enjoying one of his favorite things. The fact that Rocket may not give it back till he beat Groot's high score would sink in later. "So what do you want?"

"I... simply wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Yeah, I'm fine," Rocket mumbled absentmindedly as tiny enemy ships exploded.

That felt too easy. The last time everyone seemed fine and Thor left them alone he'd come back to find Tony with a broken arc reactior and equally broken heart. "Are you certain?"

"Yeah, sure. Look, Quill says stupid crap all the time, alright? It's not that big a deal."

"Yes, except you don't normally cry about it."

That, Thor realized from the way Rocket's expression fell, had been a mistake. "Groot, take over." Rocket shoved the console at Groot, who kept playing as requested but was mostly giving Thor a look that was hard to decipher. "So, what Thor? You here to tell me what a big baby I was for crying and running away, huh?"

Ouch. "Well, I'd hardly be one to talk, now wouldn't I?"

Rocket clearly didn't expect that and his hard expression weakened. Thor had plenty of pride, but only when he'd earned it. "Yeah. Exactly. So why did you come down here?"

Why did Thor come to Rocket's room? Did he think he would be able to comfort Rocket if Groot hadn't been able to? How conceited of him to even consider such was possible.

"I'm sorry. I simply felt that maybe my presence could be of some use to you, but perhaps that was arrogant of me." Rocket stood on his bed to get closer to Thor's eye level. Thor in return lowered himself as much as he deemed wouldn't offend. "It has been a long time since I have felt part of a family. I don't want to lose this one that you invited me to be a part of so quickly over something I could have helped fix."

Rocket stared him down, skeptic. Groot had long since abandoned the game and was watching the two of them carefully.

"Rabbit, you are a dear friend to me. When you arrived to visit me in New Asgard, I felt nothing but joy despite my condition. I hope one day I can earn your trust so that you see my presence in a similar light."

Rocket's expression didn't change. "I am Groot." 'That's asking a lot.' "I know, Tree," Thor smirked, "but one can hope." "Yeah, well, hope all you want, but right now I'm fine and having an important private discussion with Groot, so go away."

"Right..." Thor sighed. Rocket's aloof attitude reminded him of his brother sometimes - maybe either of them returning his familial feelings of love and goodwill as strongly as Thor gave them was indeed too much to hope for. He stood and headed for the door.

"Oh, uh, Thor? One more thing." Thor braced himself for a quip about the door or making sure to take all of his hair with him. "I'm sorry."

"...For what?"

"What do you think, genius? Slapping you when you needed my help. I'm sorry, alright?"

Thor smiled, touched by Rocket's unexpected kindness. "Of course, Rabbit," he said as he exited Rocket's quarters, "All is forgiven."

"Oh, and make sure all your hair leaves with you."

There it was. Rocket would be fine.

#avengers endgame #guardians of the galaxy #rocket raccoon #thor odinson #endgame spoilers

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inksmellsnice · 5 years

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Warnings: Major Spoilers for Avengers: Endgame Title: On Relativity Chapter 2: “Dad” And Other Love Languages

Rating: T (Mild language, alcohol mention.) Words: 1550 Summary: There have been a few moments in Groot’s short life when he’s wondered if he and the Old Groot are truly completely separate people. External Reading: FFN [TBA], AO3

Dad?

Groot wakes up where he fell in the fields of Wakanda and immediately looks to see if his hand is intact. It’s there. He’s all there.

He tries to decipher what really happened and what he might have hallucinated from taking a blow to the head, but everything up until the last moment felt so real. His hand turning to dust as he reached out to Rocket. His vision going in pieces like dead pixels on his ancient game console. Not feeling like he was dying, per say, but like he never existed to begin with.

Maybe reality and a bad hit to the head got a little mixed up somewhere along the way, but he knows for a fact that before he fell asleep there was a lot more chaos and a lot more people than one man with a metal arm sitting on a log nearby and polishing a gun.

“I am Groot?”

The man looks over from his busywork. “Oh, you’re back.” He leaves the gun on the log and walks over. “Okoye told me to wait for you while she got everyone else organized. You were with the raccoon, right?”

He should be more skeptic, but something about a messy guy with an attachment to a firearm makes Groot comfortable and he nods.

“Great. There’s not much time to explain, and I’m not even completely sure what is going on, but if you’re up for a fight to help your pal we need all the help we can get.”

Cannon fire explodes too close to Groot and he’s sent flying and tumbling to the ground. For some reason, it’s then that he remembers what Rocket said about how “The Old Groot” was killed in relation to one of Thanos’ ships and a fight over infinity stones and it’s the last straw. All of it is too much and Groot stays curled up on the ground regretting every time he told Dad that he was a practically an adult and didn’t need so much attention.

But then familiar shouting drowns out the ringing in Groot’s ears, and the next thing he knows Rocket is clinging to him with more loneliness and desperation and gray hairs than he could have possibly built up in the few hours Groot has perceived since they arrived in Wakanda. One look and Groot knows he’s missed something critical, but it hardly matters now as the warship aims right at the two of them.

After they miraculously made it out of that mess with their lives, Groot wonders if Rocket actually thought he could shield the relatively tall teenager from a gigantic cannon with his tiny body or if he just wanted to spend their last moments together. It’s one of many things he doesn’t know how to ask, and realizing he’d been gone for as long as he’d been alive only took him from knee-deep in questions to absolutely drowning.

“He shared stories about every little thing all of you did together from idiotic space adventures to the tree learning how to walk.”

But right now, he only needs the answer to one.

Groot knocks on Rocket’s door.

“I am Groot?” Are you okay, Dad?

‘Dad.’ He’d first called Rocket that in a moment of desperation, but he likes it. Peter had told him many stories about how Rocket had taken care of him from the moment he came into the world. He had also told Groot about how a dad wasn’t always related to you biologically, rather ‘Dad’ was an earned title for someone who looked after you and loved you more than anyone else, even if they had a weird way of showing it.

That sounded like Rocket.

No response. He knocks again. “I am-”

“I’m fine. I’m working. Don’t come in.”

Groot remembers many occasions when he told Dad not to come into his room and he did anyway, so Groot decides to return the favor.

The lights are off. This wasn’t completely unheard of for Rocket, since he had exceptional night vision and sometimes had such a brilliant idea for a weapon or explosive that he did a beeline to his work bench without bothering to turn them on, but there are no sounds of tinkering or glowing or torches or any indication that Rocket is even there at all.

Groot, not all that surprised, flicks the light switch and reveals Rocket curled up on his bunk, doing his best to pretend he hasn’t been sobbing before Groot had shown up but being betrayed by sniffles and shivers. He doesn’t move when Groot walks over to get a better look at him - either he knows he can’t fool Groot of he’s simply that despondent.

“I…” D’ast. Sometimes Groot felt like he received how vulnerable Rocket could be around him as a gift from a better version of himself who actually knew how to handle it. What would the old Groot say?

“I am Groot.”

“I know he didn’t mean it.” Rocket stands up and dangles his legs off the side of the bed, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Groot moves to sit beside him. “And I didn’t mean that I don’t want to rescue Gamora.”

“I just want to do this right for once. Just one time, I want everyone to get out alive, and…”

“I am Groot.”

“Yeah. Five years is a long time. You’re the one to talk, too. Does this nonsense make you five years old or ten now?”

“...I am Groot?”

That gets a smirk out of Rocket. Maybe he doesn’t need to be the Old Groot for this after all. “No, it does not mean you’re old enough to pilot my ship now, but nice try.”

“I am Groot!”

“Right. Quill’s ship. That’s what I said.”

Groot is about to laugh, and then he sees Rocket’s awkward expression and realizes that it wasn’t a joke, rather than honest slip from Quill being gone so long.

Quill. Quill didn’t mean it. They both knew it. They both knew he tried to take it back before Rocket cut him off and left him to Nebula’s righteous indignation, but one look at Rocket and Groot knows it still hurt to hear regardless.

Maybe, Groot realizes, Rocket doesn’t need any questions right now. Maybe he doesn’t even need any of that sage Groot Sr. wisdom. Maybe all he needs is…

“... I am Groot?” Dad?

“What? No means no, no matter how big you make your eyes or how nicely you’re about to ask. You’re not getting in the driver’s seat of this baby for at least another decade and that’s fi-”

“I am Groot.”

‘Thank you for saving my life.’

Every ounce of bravado Rocket has drains away instantaneously. He stares at Groot, trying to process what he just heard.

Partially because he means it and partially because the look on Dad’s face is absolutely priceless, he continues. “I am Groot.” ‘Thor told us about Asgard. He would have failed without you.’ “I am Groot.” ‘We’re here because you never gave up on us.’ “I am Gro-”

The air is crushed out of Groot’s lungs.

Rocket grabs his son and holds onto him with the same intensity he had back when he’d first found him on the battlefield, burying his face in Groot’s chest and not even trying to hold back violent surges of tears anymore. His tiny frame releases sob after sob as Groot rubs circles on his back and wonders how long he’s needed this hug for.

A few minutes passed before Rocket is calm enough to speak between tears.

“I… I know you’re not a twig anymore and I know you’re getting too old for me trying to keep you away from all the trouble we get ourselves into but… just… l-let me stay like this a little longer, okay? I just want a little more time…”

There have been a few moments in Groot’s short life when he’s wondered if he and the Old Groot are truly completely separate people, and this was one of them, because as Rocket holds him with every ounce of tender strength in his tiny body Groot feels like he loves his dad more than a single person could possibly love anybody.

#guardians of the galaxy #rocket raccoon #groot #here's the comfort for that hurt comfort #rocket is best dad #endgame spoilers #avengers endgame #marvel cinematic universe #!multi-chapter

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inksmellsnice · 5 years

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Warnings: Major Spoilers for Avengers: Endgame Title: On Relativity Rating: T (Mild language, alcohol mention.) Words: 1900 Pairing: StarMora is mentioned but is really not the point. Summary: Set after Avengers: Endgame in a theoretical first act for Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 3. Quill loves his family and would do anything to protect them. Rocket loves his family and would do anything to protect them. So, naturally, they have a fight over it. External Reading: FFN, AO3

“Guys… I’ve got her.”

Everything froze. Drax’s epic story to Mantis about his arena days. Mantis’ giddy yammering as she absorbed her friend’s excitement. Nebula grunting as she failed to get the high score in Arcade Defender. Groot’s backseat gaming. Thor’s never-ending questions about space. Rocket’s never-ending answers as he tinkered with something explosive.

It took a moment for the (As)Guardians of the Galaxy to process that they’d actually heard Quill say what they thought he’d said before the six nearly trampled each other to get a better view of Quill’s monitor and the odd life signal flickering in and out next to an old mugshot of Gamora.

“Are you certain?” Drax asked.

“That’s her,” Quill replied, his hands trembling and one slowly reaching towards his long-missing girlfriend’s photo on the screen. “Exact DNA scan. It took forever but this could only be her.” Quill shot back down into his seat and started working the Benatar’s controls. “Setting course now. Get ready for 3 jumps.”

“I am Groot?”

“I don’t know. Some mudball in the Helgentar System called Vormir.”

Nebula, Thor, and Rocket shared a look that Mantis didn’t have a chance to ask about before Quill continued. “Jumping in 5, 4-”

“Wait.” Quill stopped with his finger an inch from the jump button. He didn’t move it when he looked over at Rocket, perplexed. “What? What’s the problem?”

“That ain’t just some mudball; it’s where the Soul Stone is.”

“...What?”

Thor glanced between Rocket and Quill, debating if he should speak but knowing he could not keep such important information from his new team… and also knowing who else might yet be alive if his hunch was correct. “That would make sense. Maybe.”

Strange for this group, nobody interjected, so Thor continued. “There is a legend about the Soul Stone among my people, in which it can not only control souls but also house them. There is said to be an entire alternate world inside of that stone. If such a place does exist, it’s possible that’s where your friend has found herself.”

“So you’re saying that if we want to find Gamora, we need to go for Vormir,” Quill’s hand was now a centimeter from the jump button, “get inside the Soul Stone, and bring her out?”

“Assuming the legend is true, yes.”

“Well, I guess we’re going to Vormir to find ou-”

“Quill, would you slow down for a second, please?” Rocket pleaded.

Quill blinked at Rocket actually displaying manners. His finger was now close enough to the jump button that an accidental twitch could fling them across the Galaxy.

“This is an Infinity Stone we’re talking about. Remember? We all held one on Xandar and would have died if your mom hadn’t gotten knocked up by an all-powerful planet? One of those things that Thanos used to cause pretty much the worst day ever? The one that specifically got Gamora killed in the first place? Maybe you weren’t listening when we filled you guys in on how we saved your sorry butts, but the Soul Stone deals in lives. You have to off someone to even get your hands on it much less figure out how to get in and out of it. We could go there to pick up one person only to have to leave someone else there. Add some whole other world we know nothing about except for Thor’s fairy tale into the mix and we could all wind up dead.”

“...So you’re saying,” Quill glared, “ we shouldn’t try to rescue Gamora.”

“Oh for-” Rocket rolled his eyes. “I’m saying we shouldn’t mess with a crazy powerful cosmic object that could easily kill us all! Again!”

“Yeah, except that’s the only way to rescue Gamora,” Quill’s volume started increasing and he finally moved his finger away from the console to ball both his hands into fists, “so you’re saying we shouldn’t rescue Gamora!”

“We don’t even know if she’s actually there or if your stupid ‘upgrade’ of a ship is glitching out!”

“Yeah, but if it isn’t a glitch, you’re saying we shouldn’t rescue Gamora!”

“Fine! I’m saying we shouldn’t rescue Gamora! You happy now?!”

Rocket didn’t recognize the next expression on Quill’s face, but Mantis, Nebula, and Drax did. They’d seen it on Titan.

“...Are…” Quill chuckled in disbelief. “Are you for real right now? First you run with your tail between your legs from Thanos and now you’re afraid of one of his rocks?!”

Thor took a step forward, his eyes starting to glow faintly. Groot extended his arm as a barricade. “I am Groot.” No, let this happen.

“Watch it, Quill,” Rocket said through his teeth.

“You watch it!” He took a step towards Rocket, but he didn’t expect Rocket to actually take a step back in response. Quill paused for a moment at this but it only seemed to make him more angry.

“Gamora’s our friend! Our family! How could you not even care what happens to your family?!”

Silence.

Absolute and instant silence. Quill realized his mistake before his last sentence had finished echoing across the bridge. Rocket stared at him with an expressionof complete betrayal and his eyes started to water.

Surely, Rocket - of all people - would start yelling back before any actual tears could fall.

He didn’t.

“...Rocket,” Quill reached a hand out towards his friend. Rocket had never looked so small before. “I’m s-”

“It’s fine.” Rocket said with a cracking, quiet voice as he stared at the floor. “I’m sorry. Of course I want to save her, I just… Just… keep working on the rescue plan without me, okay? I’m gonna go make sure our gear’s ready.”

Nobody said a word as Rocket left the bridge, and Quill was fully prepared for someone to all but murder him as soon as their friend was out of earshot.

He deserved it. He was ready for it.

He did not expect “someone” to be Gamora’s sister.

Nebula was on Quill the moment Rocket had left, punching him square in the jaw with a metal fist. Drax and Groot both stepped forward, ready to hold her back if she swung again. Mantis’ antennae glowed and she reached a hand towards her. Thor did absolutely nothing.

“Do not touch me,” Nebula warned Mantis. “I do not wish to be calm about this.” Mantis realized Nebula was going to stop at a single punch and complied; the fact that Quill was getting back up and was still able to talk was sign enough that she’d held back a little.

“Ow,” Quill said, groaning as he stood. “What the hell, Nebula? I thought you of all people would be with me on th-”

“Five years.”

Quill’s eyes widened. Mantis, Drax, and Groot all looked between each other with varying levels of surprise.

Before that moment, there had been a silent agreement among the Guardians that the victims of The Snap didn’t need to know and didn’t want to know exactly how much time they’d lost. Measurable time in Space was barely a thing to begin with, seeing how every culture had its own system and trying to keep everything on a single calendar was a fruitless chore they’d long since abandoned in favor of pretending it was somebody’s birthday whenever the team felt like it’d been long enough and wanted something to get merrily plastered over. Quantifying just how long most of the Guardians had been “sleeping” seemed so pointless and depressing.

Until Nebula, with wisdom she usually kept under a cloak of violence, realized it meant absolutely everything.

“For five years,” Nebula continued, “he played your same paltry collection of music every day. Like clockwork. He’d tell me which song was each of your favorites whenever it started playing as if he’d never mentioned it before. For five years, in every free moment, he shared stories about every little thing all of you did together from idiotic space adventures to the tree learning how to walk to pointless verbal exchanges he found amusing. For five years, he complained about how hard such a large vessel was to maintain but protested violently at the mere suggestion of trading it for something befitting two people. For five years I pretended I didn’t hear him crying himself to sleep on the occasional night he tried to rest and for five years I pretended I believed him when he insisted he wasn’t having horrific nightmares.”

“He never got over it, not even once, and when he realized there was the smallest hope that he might regain even a fraction of what he lost he was ready to die, not because of any sort of altruism but because dying for the only people who ever loved him sounded better than spending another second alone with his thoughts and single companion who never had the words to help him with his grief in the slightest.”

She grabbed Peter by the collar. Nobody, including Quill, moved to stop her.

“Five. Years. And you have the absolute unshackled insolence to ask him if he cares about his family?”

She put him down and returned to her seat on the bridge without another word but kept an aura of animosity. He’d rather she just punched him again.

It took Quill several minutes to break out of his guilt-driven daze. When he did, Thor seemed to be examining Stormbreaker in a new light. Drax and Mantis has resumed their earlier conversation with less vigor and much more whispering. Sometime during Nebula’s tirade, Groot had left the bridge altogether. Quill wanted out of the crushing silence and hesitantly started the Zune back up.

“Southern Nights, have you ever felt a-”

He shut the Zune back off.

#avengers endgame #guardians of the galaxy #rocket raccoon #peter quill #marvel nebula #peter is an over-emotional idiot but he's trying his best #!one shot #endgame spoilers #tfw tags try to auto correct to endgame spoiler free #nah there are definitely spoilers here guys

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inksmellsnice · 5 years

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Title: Mail Call Rating: K Words: 523 Pairing: Unikitty/Master Frown I guess??? This was written with Unifrown Week in mind but Unikitty would pull this stunt completely platonically. Summary: Unikitty really loves Valentine’s Day. Brock is almost done with his new JRPG. Master Frown just wants to pay the water bill. FFN, AO3, DA

“No.”

“Dude.”

“No.”

“Dude!”

“No way! I am not going out there!” Master Frown made a show of crossing his arms and huffing. “Not today!”

“It’s your turn to get the mail, bro!” Brock protested as he finessed the game controller. “It’ll take you like, two minutes!”

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Frown gagged, “And knowing Unikitty, it’ll be the worst two minutes of the year. Now be a good henchman and deal with this for me!”

“Ffffffffine!” Brock paused the game and placed the controller next to him on a couch cushion. “But if I’m out of the zone for beating this boss when I get back, you owe me.”

Brock left the duo’s apartment for the mailbox while Master Frown watched from the window. Every year Frown would forget about this stupid holiday and unsuspectingly saunter to the mailbox, giddy for his mid-month paycheck, only to be showered with more confetti hearts and glitter than the tiny box should have been able to fit. Well, not this year. This year he’d doodled a cross-eyed picture of that dumb cat looking dumb on the living room calendar, reminding him to make Brock suffer in his stead.

“Oh, and hose yourself down before you come back in!” Master Frown pointed to a fire hydrant. “Otherwise we’ll be living with glitter until the end of eternity!”

Brock rolled his eyes and looked back at the window. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting just a little? I mean I think it’s sweet that she goes to all the trouble, given how all you do is cause her trouble.”

“Whatever! Just open the stupid thing already.”

Brock shrugged and reached for the mailbox door. Master Frown braced for the explosion, and…

“Oh sweet! Pizza coupons!”

“WHAT?!”

Frown stormed out of the apartment, flabbergasted, as Brock started sorting through junk mail and a handful of completely normal Valentine’s Day cards addressed to him. “Lesse… from Unikitty, Hawkodile, Puppycorn… aww, they’re so nice!”

“Give me that!” Frown yanked the pile of mail from Brock and flipped through it His smile grew as he confirmed that his name was only on a water bill. “Sweet!” Happy, broken-hearted sparkle matter shimmered above him. “She finally gave up! I’m free! Haha!”

“Yeah dude, cool. I’m ordering a large anchovy and finishing off Xehanort.” Brock took back the mail and headed inside as Frown continued to cackle.

“Haha! Ha! Ha…. Wait, my paycheck wasn’t in there.” Master Frown headed back to the mailbox and peeked inside. “Brock! Are you sure you got everyth-“

BOOM!!!!!

A mushroom cloud of pink and rainbow glitter, visible for miles, obliterated the mailbox. Living, heart-shaped confetti rained down on Master Frown, giggling and planting dozens of smooches all over his face as he screamed and tried to swat them all away like a swarm of angry bees. When his attempts to be free of the attack failed he curled up into fetal position and cried in anguish on the concrete. Brock, playing a cutscene-heavy level with the sound turned up too high, wouldn’t notice his roommate needed rescuing from his living nightmare for several hours.

Every. Single. Year.

#unikitty #!one shot #unifrown #unifrown week #master frown #brock

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inksmellsnice · 6 years

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Title: you've been talking in your sleep Rating: T Words: 450 Pairing: Haida/Retsuko Summary: Haida and Retsuko have a relationship-altering conversation while slightly plastered.

When Haida officially started dating Retsuko, he quickly realized just how right he'd been when he said there was so much about her he didn't know. For instance, today Haida had learned that he drank much faster than Retsuko did.

The red panda was still nursing her first serving of beer while Haida rested his flushed head on the table and fiddled with his third empty glass. This Friday night hadn't been intended to be a date – Haida tried to think of more classy outings than going to the bar after work – but Retsuko had finally accepted an offer to go out for drinks with her two best friends and "Oh no, I just got an urgent text about a thing and have to go to a place. You kids have fun." Thanks to Fenneko, it was suddenly a party of two.

"…You know," Haida heard himself cutting into the awkward silence, "did I ever tell you about this really weird dream I had once?"

"Hmm?" Retsuko looked up from the drink she'd spent more time staring at than actually consuming.

"Yeah. Okay so, like, we were at one of those stupid company parties for some reason."

Retsuko nodded.

"And Ton suddenly gets up in front of everyone and is all," Haida sat up and did his best drunken impression of their boss… was it just him or did Retsuko look nervous? In the back of his mind he wondered if he should just shut up but he was too plastered to yield to his better judgement, "'bluh bluh Retsuko you suck bluh' but instead of just taking it or whatever you," Haida snorted, "you got up and started screaming death metal at him."

"O-oh… really? Uh, yeah, that sounds kind of scary." Retsuko blushed and went back to staring down at her drink, sweat starting to sheen on her fur.

Haida put his chin back on the table and ran his finger along the rim of his glass, not so much figuring out if what he wanted to say next was a good idea but just getting words to come out of his mouth.

"…Actually," Haida finally said, "to be honest, it was kinda hot."

Silence.

Haida's brain finally started to catch up with his words and he shot up from the table, staring over at the equally shocked looking Retsuko, his cheeks burning. "Uh, when I say… what I mean… I didn't… I wasn't-"

"Haida."

"Huh…?"

Retsuko looked around the room, down at her drink, down at the floor, before looking up at Haida with a smile unlike any Haida had seen her wearing before.

"On our next date, would you like to go sing for karaoke together?"

#aggretsuko #haisuko #haidsuko #aggressive retsuko #retsuko x haida

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inksmellsnice · 6 years

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Warning: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR INFINITY WAR Title: Alone Again (Naturally) Chapter: 1 [Dust to Dust] Rating: T [Canon typical violence/Rocket’s mouth] Words: 750 Characters: Rocket Raccoon, Steve Rogers Summary: Rocket isn’t at Avengers HQ to make friends. External Reading: FFN, AO3

“These are guest quarters for government officials,” Steve explained, finishing the brief tour of Avengers HQ. “You can stay here for the time being. We’ll be having a debriefing at 0200 hours.”

Steve Rogers had allowed himself five minutes to hold the dust of his best friend in his hands before locking his emotions back in their Star-Spangled box and entering full-on Captain America mode. He traversed the secluded nation where the battle for half of the known Universe had taken place and found no end to disappointments – for every member of his team alive, they came with news of someone who had been lost. Vision, Wanda, Sam… the king of Wakanda himself, which meant their lost battle had left a nation with heavy casualties and political instability. Eventually, he found his “alive” list was quite familiar, and he wondered if he’d be moving forward with the exact same team he started out with.

And then Thor told him there was one more. One, who he warned, might need some time.

Steve had slowly approached the “rabbit” allowing the rusting of the bushes as he stepped over them to announce his presence. The creature, who had looked so alive and agile earlier in the battle alongside Bucky, only responded with a small twitch of his ears. He was on his knees and grasping a wisp of dust that had no doubt once been a pile of someone… a dear friend. Steve knew the moment he saw the scene.

There was so much he wanted to say, and so much he wanted to ask, but his words came out closer to barking an order than he intended. “If you have nowhere to go, come with me.”

When Rocket finally responded, it was with a simple nod. He stood up and followed Steve back to the transport, back to Avengers HQ, to where they now stood in the same awkward silence neither had the interest nor energy to break.

“Welcome to the Avengers.”

Rocket didn’t move. He stared at the door to the guest quarters in front of him, and Steve was starting to wonder if the creature was capable of speech or if he’d imagined a Raccoon talking to his best friend as some sort of weird coping mechanism. “Any questions?”

“…I don’t need your pity,” Rocket finally said. Despite this, he sounded like he could use a good few days of sleep.

“Rest assured, I don’t have time for pity,” Steve said. “Thor trusts you. Bucky trusted you. You’re here because you could be an asset if you choose to be. We are not planning on taking what Thanos did laying down, and we’re going to need all the help we can-“

“Okay, okay, you can stop anytime,” Rocket turned towards Steve with his hands up in a mock placating gesture. “You’re the leader of this garbage barge, right? Which means we already tried your crappy plan, and that went absolutely swimmingly. I’ve already got a team, and the only reason I’m not already blasting off to find them so we can shove Thanos’ overpowered oven mit where the sun doesn’t shine is because Quill once told me that this awful planet doesn’t even have any decent spaceships to begin with.” Steve crossed his arms and let him continue, if only because the insults seemed to be revitalizing Rocket in a way. “So! Here’s how it’s gonna go down – I don’t need any of you. If you want to let me crash here, that’s your call, but the moment the Benatar enters the stratosphere I am out of here and never want to see this mudball of a planet again as long as I live.”

“…Okay,” Steve replied before walking off. “You’re welcome to join us for meetings whenever you’re ready.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

“…And, I’m sorry about your friend. He must have meant a great deal to you.”

Rocket blinked. He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out, so he settled for glaring daggers at Steve until the Captain rounded the corner. “Pft. What would he know?” Rocket asked no one as he entered the stale white-walled room. It was too clean and too big, like a laboratory. He climbed onto the cot, put his arm over his eyes, and tried to think through the fog of the last several hours.

His first matter of business: figuring out what he was going to tell the others.

#infinity war spoilers #avengers infinity war #rocket raccoon #iw spoilers #guardians of the galaxy #holy crap it's a live action fanfic

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inksmellsnice · 6 years

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Title: A Doctor, Sort Of Rating: K Words: 600 Pairing: Hawkodile/Dr. Fox Summary: Dr. Fox wishes Hawkodile wouldn't expect so much from her, or at least avoid getting so many stupid injuries.

"How did you even manage this? I thought it was leg day."

"Yeah, leg day: the day I use my arms to walk in case my legs get blown off."

Dr. Fox only sighed in response. The bodyguard had shown up at her lab ten minutes prior and presented her with the forearm he'd managed to snap clean off, trying his best to look completely casual about it despite the pained tears at the edges of his sunglasses.

"Hawkodile, you know my PhD is in Biochem, right?" Dr. Fox asked as she worked on taping back together and slathering ointment on Hawkodile's wound.

"Well yeah but, I mean, you fixed Rick's back just fine."

"Still…" as much as she appreciated having a willing test subject for her experimental healing ointments, her conscience picked at the back of her mind. One of these days, she worried, one of her friends would show up with something she'd fail to fix. This was especially true for Hawkodile, who had come to her with a variety of wacky and dumbfounding ailments from his training over the years. "A crack in the back is one thing – reattaching half of an arm can lead to a number of complications. If I don't connect this just right and keep it secure while it heals, I'll have to snap it back off and start over."

"…Oh." Hawkodile frowned and blushed with embarrassment over his misunderstanding. (She assumed that was why he was blushing, anyhow.) "Sorry. I didn't think this would require so much touching…. I mean so much… um… medical… stuff. I could go ask someone else if-"

"No, I'm already almost done. Just hold still – you keep shaking your hand." She finished up filling the cracks in Hawkodile's arm with ointment and started to wrap a tight bandage around the injury. Hawkodile's shaking only seemed to get worse as she gently ran her hands over his forearm to check the bandage, but despite this she was managing alright. "I just don't get why you don't go to a medical doctor in the first place."

Hawkodile didn't respond. Dr. Fox looked up and realized he was avoiding eye contact and sweating heavily.

"…Hawkodile, are you… afraid of the doc-"

"Oh hey look at that! It looks like you're done patching up my arm!" Hawkodile pulled his arm away, leaving one last bandage untied and dangling. "Thanks, Dr. Fox! I'll just be-"

Dr. Fox took the untied bandage ends and gently tugged, causing Hawkodile to yelp loudly and freeze in place. "There's no reason to be afraid of doctors, Hawkodile," she said as she tied the loose ends and finally let her friend go. Thankfully, he didn't try to bolt again. "They go through rigorous training to be licensed to practice medicine. Frankly, they know a lot more about the medical field than I do."

"I said I'm not afraid, alright? I'm not afraid of doctors!" Hawkodile's face grew increasingly red as he protested. "I just…"

Hawkodile turned away from Dr. Fox, clenching his good fist and tightening his shoulders. His next words came out as little more than a stubborn mumble.

"…I just… I trust you, okay?"

"Hmm?" Had she heard that right? If she had, that was a rather unscientific way of looking at things. "What was that?"

"Nothing. Thanks for your help, Dr. Fox." Hawkodile left, thoroughly frustrated with himself.

Dr. Fox watched Hawkodile storm out, perplexed by his sudden change in mood. Hopefully it wasn't a side effect of the ointment; she wrote down the strange occurrence in her notes just in case.

#unikitty #unikitty!#hawkofox #!one shot #foxodile

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inksmellsnice · 6 years

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Fandom: Cars Title: Something Only Francesco Sees Chapter: 2 Chapter Title: Ghita Rating: T Pairings: Francesco/OC, Some Mater/Holley + Lightning/Sally Summary: Crime never leaves the world of racing alone, and the MI6 never leaves crime alone. But Francesco Bernoulli has bigger problems like finishing off another winning season, preparing his pit crew for the new World Grand Prix, and dealing with an extremely annoying critic.

"I know you've had some sleep, but try to rest on the plane, alright?"

"You got it!"

"And wait for your escort as soon as you land; don't wander about."

"I hear ya!"

"You remember the code phrase for escort identification?"

"…Uh…"

Holley sighed. She wished she could just see Mater home herself, but there was too much work to be done. She ran Mater through the escort process one more time before sending him off towards his gate. The two waved goodbye to one another with warm – sad – smiles and Holley sighed once Mater was safely on his flight home.

Finn didn't say anything. After being partners for so long, he didn't have to. The duo knew one another's insecurities and flaws quite well, and Holley would talk if she needed someone to talk to.

"Mater was in danger because of us, wasn't he?" she stated. She kept staring ahead at the terminal.

"…Perhaps," Finn admitted. "However, he has quite a few high-profile friends, not to mention a knack for getting himself into trouble. I have the feeling he'd wind up in dire straits eventually whether he knew us or not. Regardless," Finn turned to face Holley, "he's lucky to have someone who cares about his welfare so much and would protect him at all costs. If anything, I believe you being around makes him safer in the long run."

Holley didn't seem convinced. "…So, about our mission? We're back on the search for that lost politician, right?"

"Unfortunately, no. Agent… Agent 2nd Gear has taken over the manhunt, regardless of how horrible of an idea that is." Holley was surprised that Finn didn't even try to hide his disapproval. She hadn't met this agent herself, but she already didn't like him from the way he'd somehow managed to get on Finn's bad side, which was normally reserved for no holds barred villains. "We've been instructed to head back to base – HQ thinks the politician might just be the tip of the iceberg."

"Waiter, order this great pit crew another round, eh?!"

Fracesco's crew cheered and whooped with varying levels of intoxication. The Bumper Skirt Bar and Grille was all but rented out by the racer's extended team; they convened around several tables pushed together under the old yellow lights. All the garage doors and windows were open to let in the light summer breeze and extend the available seating space; sunlight enveloped them. Cars that weren't part of Francesco's party took bragging selfies from their outer tables, which only caused more cars to show up at the hole-in-the-wall. The television playing a news report about a missing smart car politician did nothing to dampen the jovial mood as Francesco celebrated with big drinks, large tips, and hearty laughter.

"…remains missing. Next up, we have a look back at this racing season and an analysis of the final…"

"Shh! Quiet!" one of the pit members shouted. "The news is talking about the race!"

"Ah yes!" Francesco smiled and hoped up and down in place, "It's time to hear more about how Francesco did fantastically and see how good he looked on the camera passing the finish line!" He turned to get a better view of the television hanging behind the bar.

But when Francesco noticed the logo of the television network, with the current time stamped under it, his smile disappeared. "…Wait. Waitwaitwaitwait. Please do not tell me it is 5:30."

"Is there somewhere you needed to be, Francesco?" Guiseppe asked.

"Nono, it's just… at 5:30 on this channel-"

The television continued into the next segment. "And now, we have this season's final racing commentary with our analyst, Ghita Aryanne."

A deep gold pickup truck with green eyes rolled up next to the regular news commentator and nodded acknowledgingly. Her expression remained neutral the entire time, as if she didn't even realize she was now on live television. Francesco groaned. Loudly and dramatically. "Uuuuuuuuuugh! Waiter, I will buy everyone in this bar a drink if you'd change the channel to anything else, per favore!"

Guiseppe raised an eyebrow. "What has you so upset, amico?"

"This channel is not news or analysis! It's… it's blasphemy! This Ghita Aryanne; all she ever does is picks racers apart, especially me! No matter how great I do, she always has something to complain about! So picky about every! Pointless! Little! Thing!"

"Yes, Francesco ran a great race today," Ghita continued on the television, "…however," (Francesco mouthed said "however" mockingly as it came out of Ghita's mouth) "he has gotten a little too used to winning. Look at his turn into the last stretch." A clip of said turn played between the two hosts. "See? Sloppy. At that speed he could have careened and lost the match."

"But I didn't!" Francesco protested at the television. Several of Francesco's crew members backed away from the racer and glanced at each other warily. A few fans recorded the temper tantrum with their phones. Francesco turned back to Guiseppe and gestured to the television. "See? She acts as if I have no idea what I'm doing! Acts like she knows everything!"

"I told you the same thing about your turn," Guiseppe said.

"Yes, but that is your job! Ghita's job is to apparently be as annoying as possible and tell us all things we already know while acting smug about it. Waiter, I beg you again, change the channel! Anything will do! Check the American sports coverage – is Lightning McQueen back yet?"

"This Ghita," Guiseppe continued, not letting Francesco change the topic, "she must be doing her best, I'm sure. You should try to be a little nicer to your fans, my friend."

"Alright first off, Ghita Aryanne is the opposite of a fan. Second, you have a bleeding heart, Guiseppe. More often than not it is one of the things I love about you, but on occasion it can be annoying. Like, right now for instance, when you're trying to make me feel for that cold-as-ice woman who does nothing but belittle me for fun and profit. I mean, listen! She is still going on about that turn! Be done with it already!"

"… and that is all I have to say on the matter of Francesco's sloppy steering for the time being," Ghita said.

"Thank you!"

As if Ghita could hear Francesco's moaning and wanted to get the last word in, she added, "I can only hope Francesco takes the upcoming exhibition races and this Neo World Gran Prix a little more seriously than today's race."

Francesco opened his mouth to protest, finally started to realize how he looked shouting at a television set in front of several fans' cameras, and shut it. He decided instead to seethe quietly and go looking for the remote to change the channel himself.

"Thank you, Ghita," Ghita's co-host said. "Ghita Aryanne will be off until next racing season. In her place, we will bring you special guest commentators for exhibition matches. And now, in other sports news, this week's tireball games-"

Francesco finally got his wheels on the remote control, and decided to simply turn the television off for the remainder of the party.

#something only francesco sees #cars fandom #pixar cars #cars #cars 2

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