#input data here (ask)

[sailortongue]

Laboratory Mishap

pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

wc: 2.9k

summary: after a lab experiment goes awry, you and spencer find yourselves in a heated situation

cw: smut, aphrodisiac/sex pollen (its not actual pollen but it fits the trope), oral (fem receiving), dubcon?, power dynamic, unprotected sex, semi-public sex

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Chemistry was the bane of your existence. You had never struggled so much with a subject. You had completed three general chemistry classes, two genchem labs, three organic chemistry classes, two ochem labs, and now you were taking biochem and a biochem lab. But despite all of your academic background, you still didn't have the slightest iota of understanding.

Even so, you couldn't stop yourself from looking forward to the weekly lab. You hated having to change from shorts into pants in the tiny bathroom stalls (no way in hell were you walking all the way across campus in high-humidity weather wearing pants). You hated the red line on your forehead from the goggles. You hated having to stand for 2+ hours because the lab wasn't equipped with stools. You hated chemistry in general. But you loved seeing the uber attractive GA, Spencer Reid.

More often than not, you spaced out during his pre-lab instructions. You were too busy focusing on anything about him that wasn't the jargon coming from his lips. Your poor lab partner always ended up having to re-explain the procedure. But today, that wasn't an option. Your lab partner had a wedding to attend today and, instead of being in your usual lab session, had opted to join yesterday’s lab session, leaving you all by your lonesome. Initially, you had cursed their name to hell and back for forsaking you like this, but, after Spencer offered to give you all the extra help you needed, you were suddenly exceedingly happy that your partner wasn't here.

You could see the scathing looks directed at you by some of the other girls in class. Of course you weren't the only one who had immediately taken a liking to the young GA. Only a blind person wouldn't be able to see how good looking he was. And the girls in your class were definitely not blind. You couldn't help but feel a bit smug that you would be getting his extra attention and not them.

Spencer, unbeknownst to you, was having similar thoughts and was mentally extending his gratitude to your absent lab partner. He was more than aware of the implications of coming onto a student, especially since as a GA he was in a position above you. But he wanted to be above you in the literal sense, and it was beginning to cause him to question his morals. You were the same age, so how bad could it really be? He’d noticed your frequent glances at him and reveled in the fact that you couldn't keep your eyes off of him.

During the course of the lab, Spencer was essentially your replacement lab partner. In an attempt to not show his blatant favoritism, he didn't actually guide you through the lab and instead just followed your instructions, such as pouring out chemicals into the waste bucket and washing beakers. Labs were lengthy enough with two people working together, and although Spencer would like to keep you all to himself past the time the others had already left, he remembered how miserable it was to have to stay late.

But even with his help, you still found yourself to be the last one. And not only were you the last one, but you weren’t even close to being done. Since there wasn't anyone to tell him otherwise, Spencer took pity on you and gave you far more help than he probably should have. But if he was being totally honest with himself, he just wanted an excuse to be close to you. Even though there was more than enough room at the bench, he still stood near enough that your arms occasionally brushed. Every time you handed him something he made sure his fingers met yours. And when you asked for his input about the data report? That was his favorite. His stature gave him the perfect excuse to lean down under the guise of seeing better, but he always bent down lower than he really needed to, just to have his face right next to yours and give him a front row seat to your flustered expression.

It took all of your willpower to keep your head out of the gutter. You were trying in vain to rationalize his actions. Like maybe he just didn't realize how close he was actually standing to you, and you were definitely overthinking the hand-to-hand contact, and maybe he just didn't have his contacts in and that’s why he was leaning so close. But try as you might, it wasn't enough to prevent you from getting severely distracted by the handsome GA, and getting severely distracted in a lab was typically advised against. In your flustered state, you grabbed the wrong pipette, and Spencer, just as distracted as you, didn't notice and was unable to stop the impending mistake.

Pipettes were made to measure precisely, but they don't all measure the same. So you'd royally fucked up the experiment by adding 10x the amount you were supposed to. And thanks to the stir plate the beaker was on, the solution was rapidly mixed together.

“Is it supposed to smell like that?” you asked nervously. It was a sharp, acrid smell, one you surely would have noticed earlier when your classmates were on this step.

Spencer was abruptly snapped out of his thoughts and looked at the beaker, the stir bar still spinning wildly within. He noticed the smell you were speaking of and instantly pulled you backwards. “No, no it's not. Don't breathe it in.”

He covered the lower half of his face with his elbow and grabbed the beaker from the stir plate with his other hand. He made his way to the fume hood as quickly as he could and shut the beaker within. But it was too late. You’d both inhaled the gas already, and, thanks to your biology major, you were more than aware of how sensitive the lining of the lungs is. It was literally designed to allow for gaseous exchange. Whatever you’d accidentally created was already making its way throughout your body.

As Spencer was making his way back over to you, he noticed that he was beginning to feel incredibly hot, and his breathing was becoming shallower. It was shortly after the onset of those systems that he realized his pants were progressively getting tighter in the crotch. This could not be happening. What in god’s name had you created? He was practically panting when he got back to your workbench and found you in a similar state.

You immediately began to spew apologies, but Spencer wasn't listening. No, he was far too focused on keeping his hands at his sides and not on you. He held a hand up to stop you rambling and swallowed harshly, trying to get himself under control. “It was an accident. Are you feeling okay?”

“Feel like I have a fever and my heart is beating way faster than it was a minute ago.” Your panties were also becoming wetter by the second but he didn't need to know that.

Spencer’s normally sharp mind was in a flurry. Even though you hadn't told him in words, your body betrayed the fact that you were just as aroused as he was. The subtle rubbing of your thighs together was a dead giveaway. You had your back to him, hands braced against the edge of your workbench. If Spencer was thinking straight, he never would have acted on his inappropriate thoughts; but he wasn't thinking straight. He closed the distance between the two of you, leaving no space between your bodies. He placed his hands on either side of yours, effectively caging you in his arms. Your breath hitched at the intimate position you found yourself in.

“I know you feel what I do,” he said, slightly pushing his hips into yours, his hard cock straining against its confines. “We can help each other out. Or, you could tell me to fuck off and I’ll let go as soon as you tell me to. Whatever we do or don't do, it's your choice. Just tell me what you want.” His voice was breathy and high-pitched by the end, and his self control was splintering by the second.

You adjusted your stance, the movement causing you to brush against Spencer’s front. He gasped and his hands flew to your hips, gripping them tightly and holding you in place tightly against him. “Don't-,” he panted. “Don't do that. Not until you answer me. I won't be able to stop if-”

You cut him off. “I don't want you to stop.”

And that was it. Throwing caution to the wind, Spencer spun you around to face him. “Are you sure?”

You surged forward to kiss him. Your goggles clacked together and you pulled away with a giggle. “Very sure,” you said, pulling your goggles off. Spencer followed suit.

He nodded. “Ok. Ok.” He sounded like he was trying to reassure himself that this was really happening. Despite his nearly painful erection, he tried to be as gentle as he could with you. He reconnected your lips in a tentative kiss as he wrapped his arms around your waist, but with the strange gas the reaction produced was still in the air and still wreaking havoc on both of you, it didn't stay gentle for long. What had started as a hesitant kiss devolved into a harsh collision of teeth and tongue.

Spencer’s hands migrated from your hips to your ass, pulling you flush against him. He couldn't stop the involuntary thrust of his own hips, desperately seeking friction. His mouth separated from yours as he dragged his lips down your jaw and reattached to your neck, sucking harshly and surely leaving dark marks all along the column of your throat.

He lowered his hands just enough for his fingertips to brush the back of your thighs, squeezing twice in a silent indication to jump. You tightened your grip around his shoulders to give you leverage. He hoisted you up to sit on the countertop and pushed your shirt above your breasts. You removed it entirely to give him full access. He groaned as he took in the sight of you breathless before him. “You're so pretty for me,” he praised before roughly pulling the cups of your bra down, exposing your nipples to the chill air of the lab, a stark contrast to the heat that had spread throughout your body so rapidly. He latched his lips to the newly exposed skin, his hand groping the other one. You reached behind your back to unlatch your bra and tossed it aside.

You threaded your fingers through his hair and tugged, pulling him off of your chest and back up to your lips. Both of your patiences were wearing thin, and neither of you could get the other undressed fast enough. You tugged on his tie and it soon joined your bra and shirt on the floor. You continued to unbutton his dress shirt as his eager hands groped at every part of you they could reach. When you’d finally gotten his dress shirt open, he didn't even give you the time to admire his physique and instead pulled you from the counter top to stand again.

He tugged on the waistband of your pants and pushed them down, leaving you to kick the material off of your feet. He quickly spun you around and placed a hand between your shoulder blades, urging you to bend over. You did as he wanted and felt his hands caress and grope your behind before his fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties and pulled them down just enough to expose your cunt to his hungry eyes. He groaned at the sight. “You're so wet baby. All for me.”

Spencer dropped to his knees behind you and immediately pressed his face between your legs. You squealed at the sudden contact, his tongue doing wonders for the built up need you had for him. He licked a broad stripe up your pussy before alternating between suckling and licking the sensitive flesh. Your whines and whimpers only spurred him on further, becoming more vigorous with his ministrations. The increased intensity had you gasping for breath and calling his name. “That’s right, angel. Who's making you feel this good? Hm? Whose face are you going to cum all over?”

“Yours! Please, Spencer, don't stop!”

He chuckled briefly before resuming his eager lapping at your core. He hummed against you in affirmation, pushing you closer and closer to the edge until the pleasure was just too much to bear. You came with a cry of his name, and he didn't stop until you were begging for a reprieve.

The unnatural heat that had spread throughout your body upon inhalation of the fumes was finally dissipating, leaving you with the normal flush one would expect afterwards. But Spencer was nowhere near recovered, and he had no intentions of letting you go until he was satisfied. He stood from his place on the floor and made quick work of his belt, only pushing his pants low enough to free his aching cock, dripping with precum. He stroked himself as he spoke. “We’re not done yet, angel. Not by a long shot. Not until your sweet cunt is dripping with me.”

His words sent heat racing to your core. Who needs aphrodisiac fumes when Spencer can talk to you like that.

He swiped the tip of his cock through your folds a few times before lining his tip up with your opening. He pressed forward and groaned at the sensation of you squeezing around him so deliciously. He pushed further and further until he bottomed out. His jaw fell slack in complete and utter bliss. “Oh, you feel so good, baby. Can I move? Please, please, I can’t wait any longer,” he begged. You’d let him do anything if he begged you as prettily as he did then.

You hummed in assent, and he wasted no time in pulling out until just the head of his cock remained buried in you and then thrusting back in. You let out a loud moan, already completely overwhelmed with just how good he felt inside of you. The more he thrusted, the needier he got and the more that unnatural heat in his chest smoldered. His hands gripped your hips tightly and he pulled you back to meet him with every thrust into your sopping cunt.

“I'll bet none of those silly little frat boys can make you feel like this, huh. I’ll bet they always leave you unsatisfied. But you're gonna cum for me again, right? You can do that f’me, can't you? Be my good girl and cum all over my cock.”

The sound of skin slapping against skin increased in tempo as he chased his high, wanting nothing more than to feel you clench around him as he emptied himself inside of you. You moaned shamelessly, the deep and harsh thrusts of cock almost too much to bear. You couldn't speak even if you wanted to. The only word you were capable of uttering was his name.

His grunts were turning into whines the closer he got to his impending orgasm. “Cum with me, baby. C’mon, you can do it,” he said, moving one of his hands down to rub circles on your clit. That was all it took to have you creaming around his cock, your orgasm triggering his. The moan that came from him was pure sin as he spilled himself inside your cunt, just as he had promised. He collapsed on top of you, cock softening within you as it twitched with every flutter of your walls around him. When you had both sufficiently caught your breath, he stood back upon and gently pulled himself out of you. You winced at the loss of contact, still extremely sensitive. You pushed yourself off of the workbench and turned to see Spencer tucking himself back into his pants. It was then that you realized you were stark naked in a university laboratory. You saw your panties lying near your feet and you hastily put them back on, followed shortly after by the rest of your clothing, which Spencer helped pick up from the floor where they had been unceremoniously discarded.

“Would you want to get coffee with me sometime?” Spencer asked suddenly, the words spoken so fast they nearly blended together.

You were taken aback. You had expected him to want to pretend this never happened but here was asking you on a date. You grinned, a prominent blush on your face as you accepted his offer.

He beamed, a broad smile overtaking his face. “Great! I’ll pick you up Saturday morning?”

“Yeah, sounds good. I think I can safely assume it won't be the coffee shop on campus?”

“Even though we're the same age, you're still one of my students. So until you finish this course…” he trailed off.

You grabbed his tie and pulled him closer to you until your faces were a hairsbreadth apart. “I’m completely fine with being your dirty little secret until then as long as you fuck me like that again.”

[yoursweetwife]

hi i’m absolutely brain rottimg about dr ratio while trying to complete a lab report

just thinking about his partner complaining about statistics and about how they despise statistical analysis. they’ve got this report to do (i wonder where this idea is coming from…) and they’re dreading it

he notices them furrowing their brows as they input data into this analysis program, cursing under their breath.

“aeons, why is this so confusing…? the graphs they use… why can’t i tell if…” they’re mumbling under their breath, absolutely confused. they’ve actually been at it for a while, and ratio *hates* to admit that he’s beginning to miss their presence…

so he goes up and pries the laptop out of their hands, with a soft mumble of ‘you’re an idiot’ under his breath.

“i’ll help you out. it’s better than watching you fumble with the data like an idiot.” he says softly, but he really is too embarrassed to admit he would literally do their whole lab report for them if they asked him.

just thinking of soft fluffy dr ratio begrudgingly helping his partner suffer through their lab work. as a reward they smother him in kisses and he hates to admit he enjoys seeing them so happy and thankful…

GET HIM OUT OF MY BRAIN!!! IM BRAINROTTING!! I WANT HIM DEAD /J

Sorry, it took me a long time to respond to your request. Since you didn't specify gender, I decided to take a female reader

synopsis: [name] was tired and Ratio decided to help his lover

frmale!reader

Sitting on the flock sofa, Ratio looked up from his book from time to time to look at his watch. From the outside it may seem that he is completely calm, but inside the scientist was trying to overcome his own anxiety. Only the rapid tapping of his fingers on the pages of the book betrayed his irritation.

Ratio ran his hand through his disheveled hair and sighed irritably. How long he's been sitting here? Ever since you told him to go to bed alone because you had a lab report to fill out, and Ratio knew how much you hated that, but you hated asking him for help even more. And no matter how much Veritas respected you for this, your absence began to bother him.

And Ratio hates this feeling, now even being alone in the room seems like some kind of torture, he’s used to your more physical displays of affection, cuddling against his side, resting your head on his shoulder..

Quiet rustling noises made Ratio glance displeasedly towards the kitchen. He put the book on the coffee table and headed into the next room, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Already at the door frame, his golden eyes met your tired figure. He could hear you irritably whispering curses under your breath while writing something down, and Ratio began to fear that you were about to cry, seeing your completely confused face and futile attempts to fill out the table.

You didn't even notice his bulky figure standing right in front of you, and his worried expression never reached your eyes. For a couple of seconds, he had the urge to throw the ill-fated laptop out the window.

"Oh, I don't understand...what.."

Here again, Ratio rubbed the bridge of his nose, and with light steps walked straight to the table, before you even had time to come to your senses, as the gadget slammed shut in front of your face, making you flinch.

Veritas stands at the side of the table, keeping his hand on the computer and staring irritably straight into your tired eyes. His whole body was tense, as evidenced by the bulging veins on his strong arms and twitching muscles, you almost thought that he was going to scold you for your idiocy, as if you were one of his students.

"Veritas, what are you doing?"

He interrupted your question and leaned closer to your face, and you involuntarily held your breath, avoiding his assessing gaze and waiting for the next words.

“Idiot, how long are you going to rack your brain over such basic things? If you continue to stare mindlessly at the screen, knowledge will not appear in your head automatically.”

Ratio crossed his arms over his chest and looked at you expectantly. You laughed awkwardly and leaned back in your chair, relaxing for the first time in hours.

“What else could I do but stare mindlessly?”

You decided to joke to diffuse the tension. But your lover seemed to take it seriously and pointed to himself proudly.

"For example, asking me for help."

The look of surprise your face did not go unnoticed, but almost immediately it was replaced by a slight smile. Ratio's face relaxed a little, and his cheeks turned a light crimson shade.He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.

"I'll help you. It's better than watching you fiddle with data like an idiot."

In just a second he was sitting next to you, opening laptop to see what he had to work with. For aeons, he wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible and be in a soft bed with you in his arms.

You silently watched Veritas’s actions, listening to his explanations, but your thoughts constantly went somewhere else. Contrary to popular belief, Ratio is quite a cute lover, especially in the mornings when he is too sleepy to try to act cool and confident. And his attempts to hide his need for you are adorable.

Soon the work was almost finished, and you even learned something during this time and helped Veritas, for which you received a dry “not bad,” but pride was visible in his eyes.

You couldn't help but yawn, causing tears to form in your eyes. Your lover shook his head softly. His sweet troubled woman.

"Time for bed, you look like you might faint from exhaustion."

“Thank you, Veritas, now I’ll clean everything up and we’ll go...”

Just as you reached for the mess on the table, Veritas stopped your hand, gently grabbing your wrist, and looked at you sternly.

"I'm pretty sure it can wait until tomorrow."

"But..."

With his free hand, Veritas lifted your chin while the other rested on your waist.

"No "but", we're going to the room now and you won't get out of bed until the next morning."

Ratio said, draw out each word. A deep blush filled your cheeks, for the first time Veritas looked so...needy, and he also seemed surprised by his own words.

Veritas let go of you almost immediately and turned away, trying to hide his red face, but you prevented him by grabbing both of his hands.

“It seems like I never thanked you for your help, does it?”

Your soft hands came to rest on his face, pulling him closer to place a light but passionate kiss on his lips. And Veritas wasted no time in deepening the kiss, leaning into your soothing touch.

If you always thank him like that, then he is ready to fill out thousands of such reports.

You soon broke contact and a few more quick kisses landed on his cheeks, forehead and nose, causing him to protest, but despite the outward hostility, Veritas clearly wanted more, and you were going to give it to him.

[ellephlox]

Solidarity

Summary: Frank enlists your help on a dangerous mission. Matt’s not happy about it.

Pairings: Matt x f!reader, platonic Frank Castle & f!reader, platonic Matt & Frank

Warning: Strong profanity (looking at you, Frank). Canon-typical violence. There’s also dog abuse in this, so please proceed with caution!

“You will not believe how terrible my day was.” You were already complaining aloud as you started up the stairs to Matt’s apartment, perfectly aware that he’d be able to hear you. “My boss gave me triple the amount of work that’s humanly possible to complete within a month and somehow he expects me to do it within a week. And then he had the audacity to tell me that I shouldn’t wear my hair in a ponytail because it’s ‘too informal’ for the face of the company. I mean, what the hell does that even mean?”

One of Matt’s neighbors opened their apartment door as you marched up the steps, and you quickly lifted your phone to your ear as though you were talking to someone, lest they think you were just talking to yourself. “And then my coworker took my data — you know, all that stuff I had been inputting onto that Google Doc the other day? And he presented it as his own, no credit to me. I can’t even report him because he’s supposed to retire in a week so it’s pointless anyway.” 

You continued to gripe as you unlocked the door, chucking your keys down and tossing your shoes off so violently that they hit the wall. “Anyway, I’m in a bad mood now, so I have two propositions — well, demands, I guess — for you. One: We watch Jeopardy tonight. In pajamas. I will object if you’re still wearing a tie.” You unzipped your coat and tossed it haphazardly onto the coat rack. “Two: My friend asked if we’ve ever showered together before — you know, typical girl talk questions — and I told her we hadn’t, so I was thinking—” You stopped dead as you entered the living room, your stomach plummeting. Leaning on the wall by the window, arms crossed, was Matt, wearing his devil suit, complete with the helmet on and his billy clubs dangling in his hands. And across from him, standing with an actual gun in his hand, was Frank Castle. Mortification sent heat into your face, and for a moment you just stood there, at a loss for words. 

“We have company,” Matt said dryly, uncrossing his arms and standing up straight.

“I can see that,” you said finally. “You didn’t think to... I don’t know, shoot a text warning me?” Your cheeks were searing; had you seriously just proposed showering with Matt in front of the Punisher, of all people? 

“I was a bit preoccupied all day with making sure Trigger Happy over here didn’t shoot anyone,” Matt said, his jaw tense. 

Frank snorted. “Red, you’d be bleeding out in an alley if I hadn’t saved your ass. Get off your high horse.”

“Yeah. Okay. But you couldn’t have said something, anything at all, when I walked in?  Like, ‘Hey, honey, there’s a wanted fugitive standing in our living room, just so you know.’ Sorry, Mr. Castle,” you added in an undertone to him. “Um — I’m not trying to make you feel unwelcome or anything, I just feel a bit awkward about earlier, so—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Frank said shortly, his gaze still trained on Matt. “We gonna stand here with your girl watching us and argue all afternoon? Or are we going to get this done?”

“Get what done?” you asked.

It was Frank who answered, and from the way Matt was standing with his back straight as a ruler now, you had the sense he wasn’t pleased, for whatever reason. “There’s a shipment of heroin that’s supposed to arrive tonight. The dealers have been selling to kids on the street to make a quick buck.”

“It’s due to come in at midnight,” Matt said. “But the source I talked to last night doesn’t know which dock.”

You made of sound of sympathy. “I take it you’ll be having to sweep a lot of territory tonight, then?”

“That’s a damn understatement,” Frank said. “We’re not just talking about the docks in Hell’s Kitchen, ma’am. We’re talking all the way down to Chelsea, and the piers in Brooklyn Heights.”

“But that’s impossible to scope out,” you said slowly. “Even if Matt’s standing in the center of all the docks in Hell’s Kitchen, he couldn’t possibly hear all the way down to Chelsea, let alone Brooklyn.”

“Which is why we’re in for a rough night,” Matt said. “I called Jessica, Luke, and Danny. They’re all out of town.” He jutted his chin at Frank. “And that’s why we’re here together.”

“I ain’t happy about it either,” Frank added. “He’s already talking my ass off about moral obligation and shit. Feels like I’m in church.”

"Because you tried to stab the guy in the throat after he gave us information we needed.”

“If you could see, Red, then you’d know from the look in that guy’s eyes that he planned on murdering us the second that we turned our backs on him—”

“Which is why I tied him up and left him for Mahoney.”

“I have a better idea,” you said, cutting in before anything could escalate. “I can help.” 

Matt’s response was immediate and scathing. “No.”

"Oh, come on — I get it if you want to do your whole ‘Fly home, Buddy, I work alone’ thing, but you’re not working alone, you’re working with the Punish— I mean, Mr. Castle. I’ll be supremely insulted forever if you don’t let me help.”

“If you think that I’ll let those dealers anywhere near you—” Matt began, but you interrupted again.

“Look, I’ve always waited here patiently and uselessly while you do your deviling every night, but can’t you give me a chance? Maybe we’ll be a dream team. Terrific trio. Second Edition Avengers. The Scooby gang minus a talking dog.”

“She could help, Red,” Frank said, sending an unreadable look in your direction. “I say we do it. She can camp out at Brooklyn. I mean, the guy said that they could dock there, but they never have before. Odds are they’ll be in Chelsea or Hell’s Kitchen.”

“So, what? We throw her to the wolves in Brooklyn where we can’t get to her easily if things go south?” Matt looked as though he were about two seconds from socking Frank in the jaw. Or worse, two seconds from handcuffing you to the apartment so that you wouldn’t leave. 

“No,” you said firmly. “Things won’t go south. Matt, I’m not going to... I don’t know, engage in a fight with them. I’m not a vigilante. I’ll just hide and keep an eye on the docks, then if they show up, I’ll call you.”

“I’ll stay in Chelsea,” Frank said. “I know you get all weird about the Kitchen, Red, so it’s all yours.”

Matt was standing stock still, grinding his teeth. Finally he ground out, “It’s too dangerous.”

“So is driving a car. So is crossing the street. And yet I’ve done both many, many times,” you said. “I’ll be completely fine. Why would dealers have any reason to go after a random passerby, even if they did see me? Which they won’t,” you added hurriedly. “Because I’ll stay safely out of sight.”

“Perfect.” Frank checked his watch. “I ain’t staying here while we twiddle our thumbs and wait for midnight to roll around. Give Y/N my burner number, Red.”

“I’d never have thought you’d do this, Frank,” Matt said, his voice low. “I thought you at least were on my side when it came to keeping people safe who—”

“Who are what?” you said sharply. “I might not have... superpowers, or, I don’t know, a weird bloodthirstiness — sorry again, Mr. Castle — but I can still help.”

“Call me Frank.” Frank leveled his gaze at you. “And cut the apologizing shit.”

“Uh. Okay.” You had to bite your tongue to keep from apologizing again.

And, somehow, you actually ended up on the mission. You took the C train down to Brooklyn Heights after enduring a very long and very dry lecture from Matt on how you were to stay out of sight no matter what and to call him should any boat arrive with men wearing ski masks. 

And, in all honesty, you weren’t nervous. The likelihood of the dealers showing up at your assigned docks was slim. And even if they did, you’d just have to make a quick phone call to both of them, and then camp out. Easy-peasy. 

You settled in on a wooden bench overlooking the piers, wishing you had worn more than your jacket. The temperature had dropped more than expected when the sun had set, and now you shivered slightly, the cold metal of a knife against your thigh. Just in case. 

How exactly you were actually out here, on a real mission, with Matt willingly letting you out of his protection, you weren’t sure. It was exhilarating, though. The city was dark, yet not really; it was aglow with the street lamps and headlights and apartment windows whose blinds hadn’t been closed yet. You scrunched up your legs to conserve body heat and regretted not bringing a blanket, too. And a pillow. That would’ve made the bench slightly less rock hard against your bottom. 

Seriously, how did Matt do this kind of thing every night? Fifteen minutes in and you were already missing the warmth of home. 

You glanced at the skyline. Somewhere, on the other side of those skyscrapers, Matt was waiting as well. Probably he wasn’t curled up on a bench like you were, though. It was more likely that he’d be stalking the rooftops, or pacing in the shadows. 

And then movement caught your eye, at just after 12:30 in the morning. You scrambled to your feet, squinting in the dark. It was a boat, fast approaching the pier just next to you. 

No way. Yeah, you were on lookout, but somehow you’d convinced yourself that the dealers wouldn’t actually show up on your end. You waited to call Frank and Matt, though, because in case it was a different boat, you didn’t want to raise a false alarm. You moved away from your bench and began walking leisurely down the pier, as though you were going for a nighttime stroll. All you needed to do was get a good glimpse of them, then you’d head up the street where you could watch from a safer spot. 

“In, out! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” someone said, a bit loudly, from the deck of the ship. You swiveled your head to see him, and sure enough, he had a ski mask. Swiftly you pulled out your phone and fire off a quick text to both Matt and Frank. You were about to leave the pier altogether when a bark made you stop short. 

....A dog?

“Shut the bitch up!” one of the men snarled. “We get caught, then all the goods get seized.”

“She’s been fucking howling the whole way, what am I supposed to do?”

“Give her a piece of food.”

“What food? You ate the rest of it, man.”

“Can’t believe we’re bringing this dog anyway. Boss already has six bitches. Why does he need another?”

“She’s some special breed, or some shit, I don’t know. Sells for a thousand bucks a pop. Grab that box. Like I said — in, out. We’re already late.”

The dog kept barking, though, and you winced as the man kicked the poor thing in the ribs. Piece of shit. You wanted to go up there and throttle him yourself. If Matt or Frank would just get here already, then you’d be able to relax, but it would still be at least twenty minutes...

And what if the dealers got away in that time frame?

The dog started barking again, and suddenly, without any word of warning, one of the men picked the dog up like a sack of potatoes and threw her overboard. “To hell with the extra cash. That’s how you deal with security problems,” you heard him say as he wiped his hands on his pants. “Get moving, go, go, go! Unload this shit so we can get out of here!”

Below, the dog’s frantic head slipped below the surface.

Oh, hell no. 

Your feet were moving even before you could make an executive decision in your mind. The cold of the evening was forgotten, as were Matt’s strict words to not be seen, no matter what happens, and you dove into the water, where the dog had fell beneath the black waves beside the pier. 

Fortunately, it was summer, and as shockingly cold as the water was, it wasn’t anywhere near deathly cold. You couldn’t see anything, and desperately tried to listen for the dog, but you didn’t have Matt’s ears, and for a moment panic swelled inside you that this dog would drown, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing. 

And then you saw movement, out of the corner of your eye. The dog was struggling to stay afloat, her snout barely making it out of the water. You grabbed her around the middle and kicked with all your might, coughing on water and unable to see hardly anything except for the blurry outline of the pier. There had to be a ladder somewhere along there, and you groped blindly along the edge, seeking out a grip to pull yourself and the dog up. 

For a moment, you completely forgot about the dealers behind you. All you could think about was getting the dog safely onto land, and with a massive effort you lifted her up. Her paws scrambled against the edge of the pier, but with a good shove to her rump, she was able to get over the edge and dash away into the shadows. 

Good luck out there, doggie. You started to climb the ladder yourself, but froze when you heard the telltale click of a gun being cocked in front of you. Slowly you looked up, your blood running cold at the sight of a gun pointed straight at your forehead. The man holding it had his hair tied back in a bun, and there was a horrible expression on his face that told you he wouldn’t have any qualms about pulling the trigger. 

“Should I shoot, boss?” he asked, his eyes not moving from your face. “Stupid girl’s seen us. She’ll probably run her mouth and tell the cops.”

Your brain felt as though it were short-circuiting. “I swear, I won’t tell a soul. You have my word. Really, I’ll just leave here, and I promise—”

“Do it!” one of the men shouted from the boat. “Get it done so you can get your ass back up here to help. You know how many bodies there are in the Upper Bay? She’ll just be another.”

Your heart was punching the inside of your rib cage. You considered falling backwards to try to swim away, but what good would it do? There was no other way to get back onto land nearby except for this ladder, and you didn’t trust yourself to swim around the boat and across to the next pier without simply getting shot en route. Lunging up the rest of the ladder to fight him was an even worse option. Even if you could fight like Matt (which you could safely say was not the case), you were at a disadvantage; he had the high ground. 

But you didn’t have a choice. The man lunged down and grabbed you by the collar of your jacket, hoisting you up onto the pier. You shivered violently, unsure of whether it was from fear or cold. The man looked you over. “Could hold her for ransom, Tom. That’d bring in some extra cash.”

“No.” The man, who must’ve been Tom, shook his head. “That’s just a surefire way to get attention from the cops. Let’s take her in. We’ll kill her once we’re back on open water and dump her body in the Atlantic. Much cleaner that way.”

The man holding you grunted in agreement and shoved you forward up the ramp to the boat. You obeyed only because of the gun pressed against your temple, feeling like you might vomit any second. 

Where are Matt and Frank? The night was as still as a reflecting pool. It was as though the city itself had gone to sleep, abandoning you to these men, and you had to choke down the rising lump in your throat that was making you feel like you might cry any second or pass out. But tears wouldn’t come, as you were led into a cabin, your mouth promptly duct-taped closed. The sensation made you panic even more — a little air could get through to your nose, but not much, and the sudden feeling of being near to asphyxiation made you even more light-headed. 

The men, however, seemed to forget about you as soon as they tied you to the chair. That they hadn’t killed you immediately was the most relieving of mercies, and you struggled fruitlessly to escape your bonds, feeling supremely useless. Surely Matt would arrive any second; he would hear exactly where you were, you reasoned, and he’d make his way to you as soon as he could. Any minute you’d hear the sound of a baton ricocheting off some unfortunate skulls or the cracking as bones shattered under his fists. 

But instead, it was bullets you heard first. Frank. You gritted your teeth, hearing the shouts of men that were surely being killed without a second thought. Hopping with your feet, you were able to wiggle your chair forward slightly until you could see outside the cabin door. Frank’s silhouette was a menacing shape against the moonlight. 

Where is Matt?

One of the largest men — Tom, you recalled — suddenly came barreling into the room, a gun in his hand. He untied you violently, yanking the rope so roughly against your wrists that you gasped under the tape, and then dragged you forward, the gun against your head. Unceremoniously you were toppled from the chair, your knees slamming down onto hard wood. 

“Drop your gun!” Tom jabbed his gun against your forehead so hard that you saw stars. “Drop it now and put your hands behind your head, or I’ll blow her brains out!”

Through your fuzzy vision you saw Frank freeze. His gaze was cold; calculating, and for the first time you wondered what your value was in Frank’s mind, compared to the triumph of offing some criminals. Which was worth more to him? For a moment, you feared he would prioritize killing the smugglers. His fist clenched even tighter around the gun, and he drew in level breaths, without lowering his gaze for even a second. 

“I swear to God I’m pulling this trigger in ten seconds if you don’t drop it,” Tom said, and he dragged the tip of the gun so that it was placed precisely against your temple. Water was still dripping from your clothing and goosebumps were raised so violently on your skin that you felt like you had chicken pox, but that was nothing compared to the electric adrenaline shooting down your spine, as though your nervous system was screaming at you to do something, anything, but it was to no avail; all you could do was stay on your knees, as still as possible, and keep your head lowered. 

And then, as though he’d made a snap decision, Frank set the gun down.

“Kick it over here,” Tom ordered. 

Frank obeyed, slowly raising his hands to his head. “The gun’s down,” he said. “Now let her go.”

Tom’s grip on you tightened. “You’re a fool,” he said, and suddenly you knew what was about to happen, from the steadying of his hands and the firmer press of the gun against your temple. You wrenched yourself away from him, just as the bullet fired off, and the heat of it barely grazed your shoulder as you dove away. 

The victory was short-lived, though. Tom aimed again, and this time you were on the ground, with nowhere to go. You screwed your eyes shut, sending a silent apology to Matt, and...

The bullet never came. 

Gingerly you opened your eyes to see the devil punching Tom with all his wrath and fury. Frank had already picked up his gun again and was running towards the back of the boat, where you knew there were still a few more crew members. Quickly you crawled backwards to get out of the path of Matt and Tom, the latter of whom was being thrown against the cabin wall. 

That had been close. Way, way too close. You fumbled for the duct tape and ripped it off your mouth, lightheaded from breathing irregularly. Stars formed in front of your vision and you had to slow yourself down, drawing in air and then releasing it slowly. 

Matt was still slamming his fist into the face of Tom, and blood was spurting everywhere. You squinted at them, your heart dropping — far too much blood was spraying out, and Matt was showing no signs of slowing down —

“It’s okay. You’ve got him,” you whispered, the words coming out of your mouth in a rasp. “Matt.”

Matt dropped Tom, who slid to the ground, unconscious. Using the edge of the boat to support yourself, you stood up slowly, and limped over to Matt; your knees were still aching from earlier. Gently you reached towards his shoulders. “I can call 911.”

“He deserves to die.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” you said. Matt was in a dangerous anger, you could tell; one wrong move and he’d do something he’d regret for the rest of his life. Choosing the right words now was imperative. “A judge will decide that.”

“He tried to kill you,” Matt snapped, whirling around and knocking your arm off his shoulder. “If he had — if he’d succeeded—”

“But he didn’t.”

“Does that matter?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Frank got there first. “Cool down, Red,” he said, as nonchalantly as though you were all at dinner together. “Your girl’s safe. We got the drugs before they could get shipped.”

“Don’t talk to me like I need to be calmed down,” Matt said, his voice hardly more than a snarl. 

Frank stared at Matt for a few moments. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “To answer your question. It does matter that he tried killing her.” Then, without warning, he shot Tom, square in the forehead. You yelped, looking away from the bloody hole where his head was now caved in. His features were unrecognizable, and hollow in death, and yet you couldn’t help looking back at him, his eyes meeting yours as though he still were alive. 

“Get her out of here. Warm her up,” Frank said, nodding at you. “I’ve got other business to do this evening.”

“Other business?” you asked, but Matt was reaching for you, skating his hands over your body. 

“Sorry,” you said lamely, shaking slightly from the adrenaline. “I sort of disobeyed the only rule.”

“You could have died.”

“But there was a dog, and I had to save it — they tossed the poor thing overboard. I couldn’t just sit by.”

And, to your surprise, Matt’s lips cracked into a small smile. Though you couldn’t see his eyes under the mask, you could feel his warmth. “Yeah. I know the feeling.”

Frank was gone already. Together, you and Matt exited the boat, and it took all of your willpower to not look back at the corpse. 

“So,” you said, taking Matt’s hand as you walked down the dark street together. The feeling of the duct tape was lingering on your mouth, and the way that you had been tied up — the gun against your head — and it was making your heart race. Even though Matt would see right through you (hear right through you?), you adopted a casual tone. “How was my audition? Can I officially be the Assistant Daredevil?”

“You’re deflecting.”

“I’m not deflecting. I’m just wondering if I passed some sort of test, and if you’ll let me join you now—”

“Sweetheart.” Matt stopped short and pulled you into the shadows between buildings. “You’re not fooling me.”

“I’m not trying to fool you.” Your mouth was dry. 

“That was intense. You don’t have to pretend it wasn’t. You could’ve died.” Matt’s voice shook a bit, and you were reminded that as terrifying as it was for you, it had probably been even worse for Matt. Because if you had died, and it was technically on his watch... yeah. That wouldn’t have gone over well. 

You cupped his face, and he leaned into it slightly. “Okay. I’m a bit freaked out. But I’m okay.”

“Who’s reassuring who, now?” he said after a moment, and that warm, small smile returned. He pulled you in closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly enough that you had to draw in a short breath. 

“Maybe...” Your voice came out in a whisper. “Maybe we both need it tonight.” 

A/N: Sorry for the slightly rushed ending but this was beginning to expand a bit too much and I didn’t want it to feel like it should have multiple chapters. Honestly, I wasn’t happy with this piece so it’s been sitting in my drafts for about a year now, but it’s been awhile since I posted a one shot, so... here we are.

Hope you all had a great day, thanks so much for reading! 

-Elle

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | THE PRE-SEASON TESTING

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. it's pre-season testing time!

content warnings. smau & written parts, written in 3rd person & lowercase, not edited & proofread

word count. 1.1k

notes. we're dipping into the season, slowly but surely... this took me some time to finish, i literally didn't know what to write for testing ://

"we are here in bahrain, pre-season testing for all teams in 2025, welcome everyone!" croft greets the whole world, as live footage is shown across the devices. the camera spans over the whole track, to each individual paddock until stopping at the final one, in blinding white.

"the season is starting with a bang, for the first time in formula one, we will see a stark owned team on the track! in white and chrome they are, an iconic design and everyone is eager to see what the stark manufactured cars can do!"

"how right you are, david! welcome, i'm will buxton and i have someone of interest with me here. right here, in front of the stark racing garage- y/n stark, number 95, one of the drivers for stark racing. so, y/n, tell me, how are you feeling? are you ready for the first time in the car?"

"hello will, thank you for having me. well, it's not quite the first time in the car, we had a testing back in miami at the end of january, but it's something different to be officially here now. but i'm feeling confident- we have our data, the predicted numbers and we think we'll be able to achieve them."

"so, no major upgrades or changes planned?" y/n shakes her head with a grin.

"do you really think i'm going to answer that question? ask me again, when we're done." will laughs at that, nodding his head in understanding.

"understandable, but i will hold you onto that! gonna knock on the garage doors three days later." y/n laughs again, head thrown back. "but, y/n, how does it feel to be on the paddock? have you met the rest of the drivers yet? made any new friendships?"

"well..."

"can you turn that off?", carlos gruffly asks his teammate, who just waves his hand at him as answer. with a groan, he stares at the tv, showing the first driver interview of the day, y/n stark. her voice washes over him, empty answers of being excited to properly meet everyone and maybe even bond with a few drivers.

"i don't know why you're so obsessed, perceval." charles immediatly splutters, waving his hands to deny the accusation.

"i'm not! but it's so interesting! tony stark is literally here, aren't you at least a bit excited? arthur said that y/n is like him!"

"what, arrogant? self-centered?"

"carlos! stop being so negative! i meant like- a genius! someone who raced with her back in f3 is friends with arthur, i forgot his name, but apparently y/n constantly does calculations while she drives. that's why she's so good overtaking." carlos just sighs and leaves charles to whatever he's doing right now. he has no interest in this circus.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ 🏎️ ˖⁺‧₊˚—

kevin watches the interviews from the sideline, completely satisfied with how everyone is hounding y/n and leaving him in peace. of course he had his fair amount of questions and interviews, but much less than his teammate.

it has been a whirlwind, ever since he joined the team. strange, for a while, everything seeming so futuristic, but now his glasses feel like a another part of his race suit he's putting on every day.

the team has been welcoming, open to his input, but it's very clear to him that y/n is their star driver and he's the support. and he's alright with it. of course, winning a championship would mean everything, but he knows he's not going to continue this forever. especially not when he has a kid, he's missing so much... something he dislikes, because family means everything to him.

this is why his contract is only for two years. if he wishes to continue and his results at the end of the season are steady, tony promised him a seat as long he wishes for. he is incredibly thankful for this offer, fully knowing that this kind of support doesn't exist in formula one.

"ready to go?", he asks, after y/n's press officer ushers her out of the mob called journalists.

"so ready to go", she grins. but they're not alone, the netflix camera's immediately surround them and capture their walk to the garage. people part from them, staring openly at the drivers. one of the most iconic footage later shown in the drive to survive documentary.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ 🏎️ ˖⁺‧₊˚—

"so, here he goes, kevin magnussen for stark racing, leaving his side of the garage. the car is looking incredible, i really like the color!", comments crofty and the other men immediately begin to chatter as well. throwing in rumors and hearsay about the team, they expertly fill the silence of kevin doing his first lap on the track.

"last to leave the garage and on the track, all eyes are on stark racing- oh and there he goes, picking up the speed!"

"his tyres seem to have warmed up- woah! look at the smoothness! kevin seems to be home in his car, his struggles from the last season are nowhere to be seen", adds jenson, while the cameras continue to follow the white car with the number 20.

"and there he goes! on medium tyres, setting the third fastest lap already, this looks definitely promising." will shares his own thoughts, reminding the viewers that there is definitely a possibility of stark racing going at least one or two seconds faster.

"by the looks of it, the stark racing team seems to be satisfied- honestly can't tell much, the glasses are hiding too much", jokes another man and all of them laugh. "bloody starks, am i right?"

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ 🏎️ ˖⁺‧₊˚—

the testing days are filled with endless laps and data, followed by long hours of debrief. they've already proven that they're fast, slotting themselves on the upper half of the grid, sticking close to the more experienced teams.

speculations are thrown around, is stark racing sandbagging? of course they must be, while others think that this is the best they can do. neither of the drivers or the team principal lose a word on it, instead they repeat always the same statements.

"we delivered what we predicted."

"we tested our theories, confirmed or debunked them, so the past three days have been very productive."

"we're exactly there where we want to be and we know our next steps."

empty words and yet the journalists pounce on them as if they're the next headlines. the whole world watches with eagerness as stark racing finishes up their debut in formula one and they impatiently await the first race of the season.

taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @akiraquote , @kiiyoooo , @nichmeddar , @nothingfuninthislife , @minkyungseokie , @fionaschicken , @lyrasconstellation , @spideybv28 , @keii134 , @starssfall , @tpwkstiles, @fangirl-dot-com , @nichmeddar , @lady-laura-speaks , @nikfigueiredo , @hinamesgigantica , @brakingboundaries , @almostjollypizza , @yoremins , @raizelchrysanderoctavius , @celesteblack08 , @watermelon-sugars-things , @lighttsoutlewis , @radiantdanvers , @vellicora, @sterredem , @hiireadstuff , @jolixtreesunn , @mypage-myfandoms , @nelly187 @greeneyesandsunshine , @fulla02 , @welovediaaxx , @whyamireadingthis , @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @blueberry64857959 , @winchesterwife27 , @six-call , @skywalker1dream , @mellowarcadefun , @cherry-piee , @peterholland04 , @motorsportloverf1 , @renarots , @msbyjackal , @woozarts , @leclucklerc , @yl90

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE SERIES TAGLIST? please leave a comment on this post or send a non anonymous ask!

ARKHAM MAID 2024

[tarjapearce]

Ley Del Hielo

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: ANGST. Strained and unhealthy relationships, break up, arguments.

Summary: You and Miguel say things you shouldn't say, a final straw in your already strained relationship.

Requested here

Hope you like ✨ (Yeah, Im a sucker for angst >:'))

At times you didn't know if you were fighting crime, or fighting to keep your sanity together. Miguel was for sure a difficult person to deal when he got into stubborn mode.

You were stuck in this limbo where your patience could only last for so long, even though your relationship with him wasn't falling apart completely, and there were little moments that actually made you stay, there were moments like this that made you wonder if sticking around him this far was a good idea.

"Don't."

You warned before sighing and shaking your head. You knew where this was going. He was getting frustrated over the fact that a teenager, an anomaly itself, as he liked to call the boy, had escaped his grasp.

It wasn't something you liked to discuss since you found each other's triggers, and you both exploited them with a temporary guilt-free anger, only to patch each other up, with little service acts that had drawn each other into your current relationship.

"Don't what?" He prodded with a sharp tone. He wasn't having a good day, and of course, the fact you were the only one that would actually stand him and his verbal retaliation, made you the perfect subject of 'With what are we hurting each other today?'

You didn't like the game but it was impossible for you to remain shut, whenever you felt things started to get personal. Like exposing each other's terrible traits.

"I'm not doing this today, Miguel."

"All I asked you was to know your input."

"You already damn know it."

"Miles needs to be stopped. We don't know how this will affect-"

"The canon. Yes. The fucking canon." you couldn't help but hiss in anger. A signal that you were done of hearing it.

"We have a day off, once in like, forever. And we are holed up here, trying to come up with ways to stop him. Fucking romantic" Your anger this time was justified or so you wanted to think. It was a rare occasion when he actually decided to take a break, and you both had decided to spend it as normal as you could.

Meaning, you both at home, away from the HQ, away from all the mess. Instead, you were in the lab with him. Again.

"We found a possible lead on where he might be. Can't miss a chance like this." His end of the floating bay was full of screens, cramming up with data and other information. Lyla had been long gone ever since the first hostility signal  was shot. You wished to be her for a minute.

"A bit of normalcy is all I'm asking. Is it that hard to get it?"

"We're not normal people."

"But we're still people nonetheless. You are obsessed with that boy."

"A threat to everything I have worked for!" His voice raised and it tugged rougher at your simmering hurt seams.

"I? You think only you had sacrificed shit to get where WE are?" even though raising your voice wasn't an habit you had, your patience had dictated it was enough.

"Look at our team, Miguel. It's divided because you're too stubborn to actually-"

"To actually what? Give a fuck for what might happen to all of us?"

"You hurted Miles!"

"I did not" He hissed while pointing an accusatory finger at you. "If I had actually done that I wouldn't be in this fucking mess trying to fix it, (Name)"

His breathings turned more agitated, as your voice trembled with anger. You were definitely baiting into his game.

"He is a kid, Miguel. A fucking fifteen year old that is barely hanging cause he is already taking grown ass people desicions. He's doing what he think it's right!"

"Im. Not. Risking it." each word felt more venomous than the other as they left his lips.

"What if it was your daughter trying to save you? "

But of course you had the annoying ability to turn it around in the worst way possible.

His eyes flashed red and his neck almost snapped by how quickly it turned to face you.

"No te atrevas..." (Don't you dare)

"Would you chase her down, and hurt her like you did with Miles?"

"CÁLLATE!" (Shut up)

he roared as his fangs and talons immediately poked out, his frame towering on you. And for the first time in forever, you were afraid of him. Silence crashed the emotional crescendo. He sighed, you followed but none of you were humble enough to speak.

-------

You were in your bedroom, removing the traces of dried tears from your face. You had gone home first, the need of fleeing the suffocating space you shared with Miguel was too fresh on your mind that the sheer thought of you going back, made you uncomfortable in a way you couldn't describe.

But there he was, stepping out the window, and removing his mask to then drop some plastic wraps of food on the dining table. A familiar scent egging you, or at least attempted to lure you out of the room. A failed first attempt on its own.

"Food's on the table." he mumbled from the doorframe as you put on a bit of moisturizer, "It's your favorite." Silence.

His brow pinched with a slight simmer of frustration.

Too soon.

He gave you space, and slept in the couch.

-----

Four days of pure silence, four days devoid of your acknowledgement, your voice, your touch, your acts of services like bringing him coffee in the morning, a little empanada in exchange for a kiss. Your presence.

You were not one to remain quiet, but the sudden, almost immediate change towards him, made him anxious to a certain degree. Despite you being in the same working station, you felt miles away. You didn't fear detachment, something you had once told him, but never believed, until now.

"(Name)" His voice called, first time, you ignored. He sighed and approached. Hearing his advancing footsteps only made your skin crawl and tears blur up to your eyes.

"I think we... should need a break from each other." your voice had stopped him dead in his tracks. His mouth tasted sour suddenly

"I've been thinking and it's the only rational approach for all of this... mess."

Heart pounded hard against his ribcage. His mouth gaped softly, but no words came out of it. His eyes darted to your hunched form. You looked tired, emotionally burnt out and almost... broken. It felt like a cold knife piercing through upon realization. He had pushed you too far.

" All we do is fight, and hurt each other. Im... Im tired of that. Work has turned in your main priority and..." you trailed off, tears menacing your eyes

"It has stopped being good. Good for us. I can't..." His eyes softened and his breath hitched, "I can't do this anymore, Miguel."

He had imagined such words coming from your mouth in many occasions but finally hearing them, were equally destroying. His heart beat faster

"I'm sorry" even though weak, an honest apology. You shook your head

"Sorry doesn't always fix it. Not this time I'm afraid."

His chest heaved as he approached you carefully. His hand reached for yours and tears finally rolled down your cheeks.

"It's not healthy."

"I know."

"We can't do this anymore."

"I don't want you to go" He mumbled. His hands reaching for you, you were still there in the flesh.

"We'll only end up hurting each other again." He shook his head as you voice broke.

Was this another canon event he wasn't aware of? You were slipping away through his fingers despite having you within his embrace, cradling you.

"I need to go"

Stay

His mind chanted despite his limbs loosening around you. Freeing you. His eyes settled on you and the relieved sigh you gave as he granted a much needed space.

His eyes locked into yours, there was no need to speak. A mutual understanding between you. You offered a small pat on his bicep, almost reassuring, hopeful. You left him be.

You'd be back. When you felt ready for it.

[xpeachy-keenx]

"late night" — h. star rail

PAIRING dan heng × female reader

DESCRIPTION you can't sleep. dan heng decided to keep you company.

TAGS cunnilingus. breeding kink. fingerfucking.

TOTAL WORD COUNT 1,486

NSFW BELOW THE CUT - MDNI

Dan Heng woke up on the floor of the Archives.

He braced himself for the nightmares of his past life to come rushing back, but there were none. The terminal of the data bank emitted a faint glow, reminding him it was updating and hadn’t finished. Dan Heng reached for his phone when the screen’s brightness blinded him.

After blinking away the pain, he checked the time and realized it was early in the morning. Before powering the phone off again, he noticed at the top of the screen was a notification: a text message from five minutes ago.

A text message from you.

Inputting his passcode, he read the message over and over.

are u up

Dan Heng sat up, his blanket rolling off into his lap. Watching the cursor blink in the text box, he felt overwhelmed with concern for you. Why would you be awake at such an hour?

Is something wrong?

Soon after the text was delivered, three dots popped up on your side as you typed out a response.

can’t sleep

Oh.

Oh.

Dan Heng chewed his bottom lip. He wouldn’t be going back to sleep soon, but the warmth he felt pooling down below was worth it. He didn’t hesitate as he responded.

Come here.

Three dots popped up several times before disappearing, with no text coming from you. He sat his phone down beside him as he stood and stretched. Dan Heng considered putting on a shirt, but didn’t see the point when it’d be coming off again. There was a tentative knock at the door as he crossed the room in three long strides and opened it.

There you stood, fidgeting with the end of your oversized sleep shirt, as you avoided making eye contact. He took in your appearance, eyes lowering to admire your thighs exposed by the pair of shorts you wore underneath.

“H-Hi,” you stuttered out as you bit the inside of your cheek. “Sorry for waking you up.”

“It’s okay. I told you it was fine to wake me up if you couldn’t sleep.”

You peered up at him through your lashes and asked, “Can I come in?”

Dan Heng nodded, not backing up as you brushed past him to enter the Archives. A chill went down his spine when your nipples pebbled against his arm. With the door locked, he watched you waltz up to his makeshift bed and bent over to wrap yourself in his blanket.

“Why are you so far away?”

Dan Heng stalked towards you—a look of hunger in his eyes—as he watched you tug your shirt off. There was a clash of teeth as he pressed his lips against yours, his hands reaching up to squeeze your soft breasts. You whimpered, the sound making his cock throb. Your fingers raked through his dark hair while the other dug into the skin of his back.

Dan Heng moved down your body, caressing you with his lips against your chest, stomach, until he reached your clothed pussy. His fingers hooked into the elastic of your shorts, pulling them down along with your panties. He didn’t give in to you right away, as he lavished kisses against your inner thighs. When your legs threatened to close, he moved your thighs onto his shoulders as he continued his teasing.

“Dan Heng,” you whined, growing impatient.

He hummed in response.

“Please …”

He pulled away, his eyes boring into yours.

“Before we continue, I wanted to try that …”

At first, you were unsure about what he was referring to until you recalled a conversation you had a while ago. The two of you were lounging in a passenger car—him engaged in a book while you scrolled through social media—when the topic of sexual fantasies came up. It was difficult prying any information out of Dan Heng as he denied having any, but the blush creeping up his neck begged to differ.

“Aw, come on. I already told you some of mine,” you said as your legs laid across his lap.

Dan Heng cleared his throat. The risk of anyone walking in at such an intimate moment was high. He mumbled to himself, not facing you as the tips of his ears flushed red.

“Hm, what was that?”

When he turned to you, the blush spread across his cheeks, betraying his attempts to be indifferent, when he asked, “Could I … finish inside you?”

The humor of the situation died as your stomach fluttered and a warmth pooled in between your legs. You thought you were being subtle when your thighs rubbed together, but his hand squeezed your hip in a silent promise. The memory made you spread your legs as you whined. Dan Heng pressed his lips to your wet pussy, his tongue parting your folds with ease as he tasted you.

Your head buried into his pillows as you tried to ground yourself. Dan Heng’s lips wrapped around your clit as he sucked, then circled the tip of his tongue around the hardened nub. There was a prodding at your clenching hole as he slipped a finger in, followed by another. He set a slow pace, curling his fingers when you tightened up around him.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”

He held you down with an arm lazily thrown across your stomach. He refused to relieve you of his torment as he continued lathing his hot tongue over you. The lewd sounds of your pussy sucking his fingers in had your eyes rolling into the back of your skull. With a cry of his name, you came all over him.

Dan Heng didn’t slow down as he lapped up your cum, even when you whined in overstimulation and shoved at his shoulders. When he begrudgingly pulled away, his lips were puffy and spit-soaked as he licked them. He crawled up your body, his hips flush with yours. The hard outline of his dick rubbed against your sensitive clit as he hid in the side of your neck.

“Please, please, can I be inside you?”

Your pussy clenched around nothing as you urged him to take his pants off. With his hard cock freed—sticky precum leaking from the flushed tip—you wrapped your fingers around him and squeezed. You bit your lip as a desire to take him into your mouth came over you.

“No, not tonight.”

You pouted. Dan Heng silenced any attempts to convince him otherwise by grinding against your dripping center. He slipped the head of his cock inside you before pulling out. As he repeated the action, he observed, mesmerized, at how your sticky arousal connected the two of you.

“Why are you being so mean?”

He cupped your chest, pinching your nipples as he kissed you. He slid into you, inch by inch, until you were pawing at his chest to slow down. Dan Heng placed open-mouthed kisses along your throat, being careful not to leave hickies, as he soothed you.

Your lips brushed his ear as you whispered, “Fuck me.”

He jerked, filling you in one thrust. You gasped, unable to catch your breath as he set a brutal pace. His fingers intertwined with yours as he fucked into you, mumbling curses into your ear. Dan Heng never imagined he would’ve been in this position, let alone accepting a lewd arrangement proposed by you one night during a shared bout of insomnia. But as he watched himself repeatedly disappear into your tight heat—a thick ring of your creamy arousal forming at the base of his cock—he wouldn't have it any other way.

“I-I'm so close.”

He rubbed your clit in tight circles, slowing his thrusts to a grind as he helped push you closer to the edge. Dan Heng was close too, but he held back as he wanted to cum inside your pulsing walls. You moaned his name until your throat was hoarse and words became a garbled scream, swallowed up by his lips against yours. His hips continued rocking into you, the wet smacking of skin against skin filling the room.

You should've been worried about the others hearing, but the pleasure you felt subdued the rational part of your brain as you begged him to fill you up. Dan Heng burrowed into your breasts riddled with teeth marks as he panted, his thoughts becoming hazy as he neared his end.

“Fuck. Take it.”

His hips stilled. A warmth flooded you as he painted your insides with his cum. You held onto each other as you caught your breaths. The weight of his body on yours grew uncomfortable as you tapped his shoulder. He shifted to lie next to you, whispering an apology. From the corner of your eye, you admired his flushed appearance as he gazed up at the ceiling.

“So beautiful.”

He turned to face you, a hint of a tired smile on his face as he tugged you into his side.

XPEACHY-KEENX. 2024. PLEASE DO NOT COPY.

[anemhoez]

Lunae…

Dan Heng/Reader

WARNINGS: unprotected sex (use protection, even with dragons) and language

A/N: this one’s for the real cultured freaks out there 🫵 we ARE gods strongest soldiers 🫡

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

“Are you even comfortable here?” you asked Dan Heng, his eyes scanning the screen in front of him. He reached out and tapped the screen, inputting the latest information from your mission into the data bank. “Did you hear me?” your voice a few octaves louder now. Dan Heng smirked, “I did, I just don’t know what you’re talking about?” You simply pointed to the mat on the floor, his comforter and pillow strewn about. “Its a bed, why would I be uncomfortable on it?” You sighed and went over to the screen he was just tapping on. “It’s hardly a bed,” you pulled up the file he just created to review it, “mine is way more comfortable.” The words slipped out of your mouth without much thought, your focus on the text in front of you. “Hmph.” the small sound coming from the man behind you made you realize what you had just said. “What I mean is, I actually have a real mattress!” your face got hot out of nowhere and you tried your best to seem aloof.

Dan Heng stayed quiet as you spoke, “I’m not like, inviting you to sleep in it or anything.” He smiled and walked over to you, his fingers brushing past the screen to close the file. “You sure?” He always kept his responses short, but it always made an impact on you regardless. You figured it was because you had feelings for him. “What I’m trying to say is, you should try to take better care of yourself,” you moved your hands to tug on his jacket, the small gesture making you unsure of your proximity to him.

The two of you admitted to liking each other a few weeks ago after a very close call during a mission. Dan Heng was badly hurt, the Trailblazer and March 7th doing their best to fight off the fragmentum creature ambush as you tended to him. “You fucking idiot,” you cursed as you did your best to heal his wounds with your gifts of abundance, “why did you just jump in front of me like that?!” The glow from your hands reflected on his skin as you looked into his eyes. “Because I care about you, more than normal.” His wounds began to seal shut, a groan of pain escaping his mouth. “Well, the feelings mutual.” you brought your hands to rest on your lap once you were done. Dan Heng sat up, his piercing eyes meeting yours. It was quiet for what felt like hours, but in reality it was only a few seconds before the two of you leaned into one another and kissed. The two of you kissed passionately, only being stopped by March’s voice screaming, “I knew it!”

You remember that kiss fondly, but its been a while since it happened, and you weren’t sure if the two of you still had that connection . You liked him a lot but, didn’t want to seem too clingy. He keeps his feelings to himself most of the time, so you were never really sure how to approach him. “Have you been well?” he asked awkwardly breaking the silence. You couldn’t help but giggle, “Yes, I’ve been well, you?” He reached down and took your hands in his, intertwining your fingers together. “I’ve been thinking about, that kiss.” You suddenly felt anxious, wondering where he’d take the conversation from here, maybe he didn’t really like you after that. “What about it Dan Heng?” your voice was practically a whisper, your heart beating faster as he moved in closer. “it was, better than I had imagined.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. Your lips brushed against one another, a small chuckle coming from him. You closed the gap, letting yourself melt against him. Your lips melded together in a fervor as you finally got to kiss him again. His hands came to your waist, his grip tight as he pulled you closer. Your hands moved from around his neck and trailed down his tight and toned body. You moaned against his lips, pulling away to look at him, “Do you want to,” your hands stopped at the hem of his jeans. He pulled you back in for a kiss, his hands on your waist squeezing harder before they came to cup your rear. He pulled away, his lips wet and swollen, “Absolutely.” he whispered and began kissing you all over your face. You laughed and started to unbutton his pants, your gut stirring as he continued to kiss you while you reached down and took a handful of him. You screamed internally, his cock semi erect already, letting you know right away that he did want you as bad as you wanted him. You pulled away from him, keeping eye contact as you freed his member from its confines and got down on your knees. ��Someone’s eager,” he teased and you watched his jaw go slack as you took his tip into your mouth. His hand came to the back of your head immediately, pushing you further onto him as you took more of him in. Your mouth salivated heavily around him, your core aching as if you could already feel him inside of you.

You bobbed on his long shaft up and down, looking up at him through your lashes, your hands on either one of his thighs. He looked down at you with a cocky smirk, his eyes slowly began to change color to a paler blue. He grunted deeply, his eyes closing shut tightly. You pulled off of him, saliva dripping from your mouth. “Are you ok?” you asked worried if you had hurt him in some way. “Yes, please don’t stop.” he opened his eyes, the usual grayish blue color was back. “I don’t know if I’m hallucinating but, it looked like your eyes changed color,” you said as you pumped him in you hand. Dan Heng shook his head with a chuckle, “Really, how strange.” he said and took off his jacket, his shirt soon meeting the fabric on the floor. The man before you looked down and gently thrusted into your hand, “You’re probably just seeing things, ahh!” he threw his head back as he moaned.

Aeons everything about him was gorgeous. The soft outlines of his abs, the veins that decorated his arms and hands, and those eyes of his. Those piercing eyes of his that bored through you as he looked down at you. He could convince you to commit war crimes right now with that look, “You’re probably right.” you stuttered out before taking him back into your mouth. Your tongue flattened under his shaft as you took him in fully, his tip hitting the back of your throat. “Fuck,” he huffed out, the sensation causing him to buck against you, causing you to gag on him in response. He took a handful of your hair, tugging on it gently, “I need to be inside of you soon.” His words hit your core like a crashing wave, your moans loud as you worked. You reached a hand into your pants, dragging your wetness from your core to your clit and rubbed hard. The sight of you, the way you were pleasuring yourself while sucking him off was way too much and his eyes changed color again, faster this time.

You watched as blue horns began to sprout from his forehead, the shock of what you just watched made you move back and off of him. “Horns?!” you yelped, catching a glimpse of his now longer hair. “And hair?!” your eyes then went to his dick, well, dicks, “AND COCKS?!”Dan Heng turned away from you, muttering something under his breath. He looked back at you, “Sorry, I’m trying to go back to my usual self but, I’m too excited” He adjusted himself back into his pants and reached for his shirt, “I understand if you’re, disgusted.” You stood up and took his hand, “Im not disgusted, I’m just surprised.” You looked at him closely, his face the same despite his eyes and horns. “You’re still the same Dan Heng.” He sighed, moving to lean against the rail that separated his bed area from the rest of the room. “Its complicated but yes, its still me.”

You moved closer to him, your hand rested on his back. You rubbed his back up and down, feeling the small scales that now textured his skin. “You really are the mysterious type huh?” you teased and moved in for a kiss. Your lips met, the tongue in his mouth now forked, but you didn’t pull away and simply moved your tongue along his. When you eventually pulled away though, he looked at you dearly, searching for something in your eyes.“I’ll tell you everything one day, its just, “ he rolled his eyes and sighed again. “Hey its ok, this doesn’t change how I feel about you.” you said trying to reassure him. You moved to bring your arms around his neck, “i’m just worried about you, fitting inside me with, those.” Dan Heng smiled and rested his forehead against yours, “Are you actually, open to that?” he kissed your lips, and licked a path from them to your neck. “Of course, I want you.” His hands came to your pants and he quickly undid them and pulled them down. “Alright then.” he helped you out of the fabric and grabbed you by your thighs, “I’ll have to get you ready then.”

While pulling you closer, he sat on the floor, then lay down on his back. You took the hint and moved to sit on his face. He moaned upon you resting on his mouth, his tongue quickly lapping you up. You pulled off your shirt, finally completely bare in front of him for the first time. He watched as you grabbed your breasts and squeezed them, rolling your nipples between your fingers. His strong hands held you close, his slightly sharper nails digging into your skin. “Dan H-Heng,” you huffed, the pleasure between your legs building. You threw your head back, grinding your hips against his face, reaching behind you to rest your hands on his stomach. His tongue was wrecking you, the forked muscle taking your bud in between it, only to round his lips against it to suck hard. “Aeons,” you cried out, practically bouncing on him, needing more to reach the climax you were chasing. He slurped and sucked, graciously eating you out and licking you like your very essence was ambrosia to him. You felt it. that familiar rush starting to wash over you, your hips grinding faster and harder. You moved your hands from his stomach suddenly reaching forward and grabbing onto his horns tightly as you finally came.

“Ah!” your voice cracked, your body hot from the rush and the look in his eyes as he drank you deep. You let go of his horns, realizing what you did as you moved off of him. “Sorry about that,” he sat up, kissing your mouth immediately. You tasted yourself on him, his breath was heavy as he pulled away, “Don’t be, that felt amazing.” He reached down and pushed his fingers into you, your folds extra messy from your fluids. “Can I touch them again?” He inserted another finger into you, looking at you without a word as he pumped his fingers into you, “Sorry is that weird?” your hips moved against his ministrations. He laughed, “Not at all,” he pulled his fingers out of you and put them in his mouth. He moaned as he licked you off of him. “Go ahead.” he said and reached out to touch your breasts. You moved in and took each horn in your hands. They were hard and slightly cold in your hands, you wondered just how sensitive they were.

You felt compelled to kiss them, so you pecked them softly, starting from the base going up to the rounded tip. The sound that came from his mouth was unlike anything you’ve ever heard, almost like a whine mixed with the sudden loss of breath. You flicked your tongue out, licking long stripes up them. He pulled you closer, his mouth taking one of your nipples in his mouth to muffle the sounds he was making. You continued licking them, teasing them slowly with long sloppy strokes. The horns were slick enough now, and you took one of them into your mouth and sucked. “For Aeons sake!” he yelled and pulled you off and onto your back. This was the most emotion you’d had ever seen from him and fuck was it sexy.

He pulled his cocks out of his pants, lining them up and slowly, agonizingly slowly pushing them into you. “Ahh!” your voice cracked and hitched in your throat, the stretch he was providing almost too much for you. He looked at your face, stopping and trying to gauge your reaction. “Are you-“ he said worried it was too much, too fast. “Just fuck me already!” you pleaded, your eyes half lidded and filled with lust, drool started to drip from one of the corners of your mouth.

Dan Heng continued with your pleading in his ears, your praises about how good he felt aiding in the build up of his peak. He pushed further, soon bottoming out inside of you. He leaned down, his dicks nestled deep inside of you as he came in for a kiss. “Thank you,” his voice was soft, his kisses hard and needy. You kissed him back, sucking and biting on his lips as he thrust in and out of you. He took you by the hands and pinned them above your head, the kiss sloppy and wet, his thrusts picking up speed as his balls slapped against your ass. You moaned loudly, the pleasure so intense and unlike anything you’ve felt before. The feeling of being so full like this, you were certain you’d get addicted to it. “M-More.” you pleaded, wanting even more of what he had to offer, “Harder Dan Heng, please!”

He sat up, pulling you by your thighs, fucking you so hard the sounds reverberated against the walls. Dan Heng’s moans grew louder, a flash of blue appeared behind him, a long dragons tail whipped around behind him. He really had more tricks up his sleeve, huh? You felt the appendage pick you up gently off of the floor, his hands on your hips bringing you to sit on him. “You’re amazing, so fucking amazing.” you huffed out and he smiled against your lips.

His tail felt like light pulses of electricity against your skin, adding to the sensitive sensations you were feeling all over. From this position, and being stuffed so full, you let him do the rest of the work, and he gladly took the lead. He thrusted up into you, his cocks hitting your cervix, brushing against your spot deliciously. The end of his tail rubbed your cheek, coming to your lips and tapping as if it was asking for entrance. You opened your mouth, the semi solid state of it moving in and out with the aid of the saliva that dripped from your mouth. Dan Heng had never had anyone this fully, this close and loving every inch of his dragon form, he felt incredible. With your pussy and mouth filled, you let him use you as a sleeve, your hands coming to his horns once again, holding on for dear life as you moaned deeply, your climax finally washing over you. You clenched down onto Dan Hengs two dicks, his thrusts halting, his orgasm overtaking him right along with you. He growled out, the scales on his body convulsing as he came into you. “Aeons,” you huffed out softly as his tail disappeared with a flash.

He held you close, his chin resting on your shoulder, hands resting on your lower back. You rubbed your hands against the scales on his back, bringing your mouth to his ear to kiss and whisper sweet praises to him. Dan Hengs dragon form slowly began to fade, his horns disappearing and the full feeling inside of you diminishing. You moved back to look at him, his eyes softer now as he admired you from this position. “Lets go to bed,” you kissed him before getting off of him. his seed gushed out of you as you stood up. “Theres so much of it, wow.” He stood up and rummaged through his clothes to find a towel. He came back to you and knelt down before you, gently cleaning himself off of you. “Don’t you mean, go to floor?” he said with a smile and you laughed at his one designated joke a day.

The two of you now clean and laying down cuddled together closely, his hand rubbing your head softly. “You don’t have to tell me anything until you’re ready.” you said as sleep began to overtake you, tired from getting fucked senseless by your crush. You’d never in a million years guess this was the secret Dan Heng was hiding. He pulled you even closer to him, wrapping his other arm around your stomach. He simply kissed your forehead as his form of response and followed you into a deep slumber. Joining the Astral Express continued to prove to be the greatest adventure you’d ever taken in your life, and now you had someone to share it with.

A/N: HE’S FINALLY HOME! Thought this up after finally noticing the place where Dan Heng sleeps in that data room 😭 i fucking love him so much, PLEASE GET HIM A REAL BED WELT!

[fanfoolishness]

A New Fascination

Tech isn't sure why Phee fascinates him so, but when she tells him about an intriguing creature by the shore, he takes a chance to further investigate things. Fluff, the teensiest hurt/comfort, long conversations, and several firsts all wrapped in a bow; TechPhee and a little bit on Tech & Crosshair. Canon-compliant, set after Pabu. 8100 words.

---

Tech sat in the boughs of the great weeping maya tree, recording sounds.  Omega’s morning flying lesson had been bracing, her inexperience and bravado combined nearly enough to cause him to ponder his own mortality, and now that they were safely back on solid ground he thought he would focus on less potentially deadly pursuits.  

He always cataloged new sounds as he came across them, but the challenge came in when they were layered and stacked and interlaced with each other.  Wingbeats of the fluttering jeweled finches were swallowed up by the sounds of their vocalizations, mixed with rustling leaves and the voices and footsteps of passersby.  His datapad did a fine job of sorting things on a cursory level, but it often required manual input for greatest accuracy.  Up here, higher above the colonnade, the sounds were crisper and easier to parse.  

He had pleasantly lost himself in this pursuit for some time when a voice broke through his focus.

“Didn’t take you for much of a climber, Brown Eyes.”

He lifted the visor up with its stream of data, peering down at her through his goggles, the leaves, and the afternoon shadows.  She stood ten feet below, shading her eyes and gazing up at him.  

“It is the best area from which to collect direct recordings of the local avians.  The jeweled finches, particularly.”  

She sat on the large bough beneath him, grinning.  “Sure you don’t want to listen to them from down here?”

Tech frowned.  The recordings would contain more interference and ambient sound the further away he was from the canopy the birds frequented.  However, coming down would provide a better opportunity for conversing with Phee.  And Phee was fascinating in her own right.

He paused.  He had not yet determined why Phee so fascinated him, but she did.  His initial hypothesis had been that her treasure hunting, or “liberation” as she colorfully put it, required a wide subset of skills, an ability to quickly adapt, and a nimble intelligence.  That was certainly part of it.  But he had met many intelligent and skilled people throughout the galaxy, his brothers, certain reg clones, people like Romar, and none of them had inspired this type of interest from him before.

He had considered pheromones as a possible trigger, though human pheromones were significantly weaker and less effective than those of many other species.  He could not discount them, though, or how else could he explain the way he enjoyed being near her for no apparent reason?

“You coming?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said determinedly, climbing down.  He sat beside her and she gave him a bright smile, tilting her head to one side.  It was a smile that was full, easy, beaming.  It was new, having such a smile frequently directed at him, but it was… very nice.  

Of course, he had also considered the fact that she was objectively beautiful.  Warm brown eyes, a musical laugh, luxurious hair, a sleek and strong figure… he was not blind to these things, and appreciated them as he would any source of beauty.  He simply wasn’t used to appreciating beauty in the form of a curious and clever person who seemed to appreciate him, too.

Perhaps that was why he always felt slightly off-kilter near her.

His datapad chimed, finishing its collation of data.  He took off his helmet and set it beside him, then hunched his shoulders to get a better look at the screen.  He needed to sort the information he had gathered before it became less fresh in his mind.

“Whatcha got there?” she asked, scooting closer so that she could lean over his shoulder, nearly touching him.  His heart beat more quickly.

“Samples of the finches, separated out from the sounds of the weeping maya, the wind, and the marketplace,” Tech said.  “I find it engrossing work.”

“What are you saving the recordings for?”

“For?”  Tech pondered the question. While there had been times his recordings had been extremely helpful on missions - Skako Minor came to mind as a particularly memorable instance - most of the time the data was simply stored, saved carefully where it could be retrieved at a moment’s notice.  “I enjoy collecting sounds.  It could be considered a hobby.”

Phee chuckled, apparently surprised by his statement.  “I like that.  Everyone needs a hobby.  And I, of all people, understand collecting things.”  She looked out at the busy marketplace, concentrating as if listening.  “You know, Pabu’s got its share of interesting wildlife.  Do you like nature sounds the most?  Or any sounds?”

“All sounds are interesting,” said Tech, raising his eyes from his datapad to look over at her briefly.  She was looking at him with curiosity, her full attention focused on him.  He quickly turned back to his datapad.  “Machinery generates patterns that can easily form a type of music.  Battle sounds are both highly varied and highly predictable, depending on the situation.  Natural sounds provide some of the most unique samples, though.  Animals with different vocal apparatuses and anatomy can produce a nearly infinite variety of sounds.  Some are not even made with mouths.  Have you ever heard the sound of a winnowing wood-snipe from Batuu?”  

“No, I can’t say that I have.  I’ve been to Batuu a few times, but only to the outpost,” Phee said.  “It wasn’t exactly crawling with wood-snipes, whatever those are.”

Tech quickly found the pertinent file and played it.  Ghostly, high-pitched twittering emitted from the datapad in waves.  Phee looked intrigued.

“That wasn’t an animal call?”

“No.  It was created by small, uniquely-shaped feathers at the base of the bird’s tail.  When soaring and diving, the airflow creates these noises,” said Tech.  Reading of the bird’s description beforehand had not fully prepared him for the startling nature of its sounds.  “There are thousands of such examples of unique adaptations across the galaxy.”

“Hey, now that’s all right,” Phee said, nodding, clearly impressed.  “I would’ve never guessed that wasn’t a song.  Not sure there’s anything quite like that here, but there’s still some interesting wildlife, especially down near the shore.  I remember Shep telling me about some creature that sings near the caves.  Want me to get some more info and get back to you?”

Tech paused.  She did not need to bother herself.  “I could also ask Shep, if you are busy.”  It did sound interesting.

“Suit yourself,” Phee said, “but I don’t mind asking as a favor.”  She smiled again, then clapped a hand against his shoulder.  Her touch was brief, but electric.

Ah.  She wants to do it.  He nodded, not wishing to discourage her.  “If you would like to find out more information, I… would be grateful.”

Another of those bright, beaming smiles.  He tried one back, though it was nowhere near as wide and carefree.  She nodded, looking pleased.  “I’m on the case.”  She swung her legs off the bough, slipping back down to the ground, and waved goodbye.  “See you around, Brown Eyes.”

---

She found him the next morning attempting to clean up after some much-needed repairs to the Marauder.  Another flying lesson with Omega had been… bracing.  He sat amidst a pile of spanners and tools, covered in engine grease, sorting the tools to put away when he wasn’t distracted by the sounds of the finches.  There was a new vocalization he could hear -- perhaps young birds begging to be fed -- and he had left his datapad inside.  He switched on the auxiliary recording function on his goggles, making a note to import and analyze the sounds later.

“In the middle of something, I see.  Those flying lessons out there looked a little rough this morning,” Phee said, casting an eye over the tools strewn around him.

“Omega is still mastering the concept of incline control,” Tech said.  “It’s creating some extra wear and tear on the engine, but nothing I cannot repair.”

“Never doubted that.”  She dropped down to squat beside him, idly picking up a spanner.  “That’s a solid one.”

“Standard Republic issue.  I have since seen some of the Imperial repair kits, and they are inferior, clearly turned out quickly to keep costs down.”

“Sounds like the Empire all over,” Phee said, sighing.  “Quantity over quality.  I guess you’d know all about that.”

Tech nodded.  The Empire had discarded the clones similarly, of course.  

“So, I talked to Shep about this creature.  He said it’s something the people here call a sea ghost.”

Tech made a face.  “A rather whimsical name.”

“Not much for whimsy?” Phee asked, looking amused by his response.

“It is not remotely descriptive,” Tech complained.  “Is it mammalian?  Avian?  Some type of cartilaginous or bony fish?  ‘Sea ghost’ does not give us any indication as to what kind of creature could be expected.”

“Well, I’m guessing it lives by the sea with a name like that,” Phee laughed.  

Tech gave her a look.  She had him there.

“He said it lives down near the northwest cove, whatever it is,” she continued.  “It goes out to sea sometimes but often comes back to sing in the caves.  He said its song is supposed to be hauntingly beautiful.  Hence the ‘ghost.’”

“If it sings in the caves, it may be taking advantage of the area’s natural acoustics,” Tech mused.  “Is it sentient?” 

“Not exactly, I think.  More like a wise animal is how he described it.  People here used to tell stories about it, long ago.”

Tech wiped his hands off on his thighs, smearing the fabric with oil as he got to his feet.  “Well, I am game to search for this creature if you are.  Give me a few moments to gather these up and we may go.”  Hunter’s intense aggravation the last time Tech had left his repair work for later would be an irritating way to start such a promising day, and he had no intention of letting that distraction interfere.

“You want me to come?” Phee asked, raising an eyebrow with a sly smile.  “Not Shep?  He’s actually seen it, you know.”

“Shep may be best suited to finding the creature,” Tech said, adjusting his goggles.  “But I am asking you because I would like for you to be there.”

He hoped he had not miscalculated.  He thought that it was what Phee had been intending all along, that this would be a time for the two of them to be alone during an enjoyable and interesting activity, but for a moment, he was unsure.  It was one thing to calculate his own thoughts, responses, plans.  It was quite another to attempt to guess what Phee might desire.  He swallowed, watching her closely, hoping he had read the situation appropriately --

She grinned.  “Why, Brown Eyes, I thought you’d never ask.”

---

They took the winding stairs down to the beach, passing islanders as they went.  Several nodded or said hello to Phee, and a few said hello to him as well, perhaps remembering their efforts from the night of the sea surge a few weeks ago.  Tech nodded to them as they passed, surprised they remembered him.  He commented on it to Phee.

“You and your brothers don’t exactly blend in,” she said.  “You might all be clones, but here you’re the new kids in town, and that makes you easy to remember.”  

“I suppose that would be the case in a place with a relatively small population,” Tech said.  “It is still unexpected.”

They rounded a corner and ran into Hunter, Wrecker and Omega, carrying woven bags of foodstuffs and supplies.  “Tech!  Phee!” Omega said.  “We’re going to try some new recipes for lunch.  Are you coming back up?”

“Recipes?” Tech asked.  “None of us has ever shown any aptitude at cooking.”

“We’re going to try,” Hunter said heavily.  He appeared dismayed at the prospect.  “Wrecker’s promised to eat anything that goes horribly wrong.”

“It’ll be a sacrifice, but I’ll make it happen,” Wrecker said.  He narrowed his eyes, looking between Phee and Tech.  “You two going somewhere?”

“Phee has informed me there is a creature with an unusual song that visits near the beach,” said Tech.  “We are going to investigate.”

A wide, eager smile stole over Wrecker’s face, and he was about to speak until Hunter elbowed him subtly in the side.  He closed his mouth again.  “Uh, that sounds nice,” he said.  

Tech was certain that had not been what he was originally going to say.

“Good luck,” Hunter said, giving them an odd look that Tech did not know how to interpret.  “If there’s leftovers later, you’re welcome to try them.”

“But Hunter,” Omega asked, “wouldn’t you be able to help them track the creature?”

Hunter paused, searching for words.  “Ah, they don’t need my help, Omega.  And I promised I’d help you with this recipe of yours.  They’ll be fine without us.”

“We appreciate the vote of confidence,” Phee said.  “Bye, boys.  See you, Omega.”

“Bye, Phee!  Bye, Tech!”

Phee and Tech continued down the stairs.  “That’s cute,” Phee said.

“What is?”

“Wrecker wanting to tease you about me, and Hunter trying to play it cool,” she laughed.  “Reminds me of my cousins growing up.  They used to tease each other mercilessly.  Especially if there was a boy or girl involved.”

“Wrecker often attempts jokes at my expense,” said Tech.  “Though… this is certainly the first time a ‘girl’ has been involved.”  He felt a flicker of warmth in his cheeks, that funny sense of being wrongfooted that he seemed to only feel around Phee.

“I thought that might be the case,” Phee said.  She turned to him, laying a hand on his arm and keeping him from descending the next flight of steps.  “Look, Tech -- I think it’s clear we like each other.  Right?”  One of those warm, sunny smiles again.  He nodded at her, feeling slightly lightheaded.  “But if this is all new to you, I don’t mind taking our time, you know?  You’re worth doing this right.”

His mouth seemed incredibly dry.  With a great effort he swallowed, managing to find enough saliva to speak again.  “I -- I will take that under advisement.”

Phee snorted.  “Glad to hear it.”  She nodded towards the last set of stairs.  “Come on, we’re nearly there.  Let’s go find this ghost.”

---

The path to the cove was hidden and cunning, half-covered by tidewaters or stretches of exposed seagrass.  Tech thought that even Hunter would have had a difficult time picking his way through the stretches of rocks, sand and shallow water.  Phee led him through a narrow cleft in the rocky wall, both of them forced to turn to the side and creep through, hands scraping the rocky surface.  At one point Phee’s hand brushed his, and she paused for an instant before she pressed forward once more, to Tech’s disappointment.  He would have liked it had her hand lingered.

She led him around a bend and a large pool of gently lapping waves, sheltered from the main beach, lay before them.  Beyond that Tech could see the entrance to a cave, carved out from the rocky walls as if by invisible hands.  Phee stared appraisingly at the pool.

“We’re going to have to wade for it,” she said.  “Shep said with most low tides this water’s receded, but some are lower than others.  Guess we got lucky.”

Tech nodded, sitting down in the sand to pull off his boots.  While they were water resistant, they had not been designed for complete submersion, and he did not relish the idea of walking the return path in soaked boots and footwear.  That had been troublesome enough after the underground river on Ipsidon.  

He peeled off his socks and rolled up his blues to his knees.  At least his datapad was waterproof, so that would not be a problem.

Phee pulled off her own boots, then removed her jacket and blouse, revealing a skin tight sleeveless shirt in a pretty blue color.  She folded up her clothing and stuffed it into the bag she had brought.  He gazed at her bare shoulders, her toned arms, the curve of her breasts and waist, until he heard the sound of a throat clearing.  “Ready to go?” Phee asked, with a look on her face that suggested she knew he had been staring at her, and didn’t mind.

He turned away, nodding.  “Yes.  I’m ready.”  

He followed her into the pool.  The water was warm and gentle, a perfect temperature when combined with the soft cool breeze blowing in from the sea.  It came up to his knees, then his thighs, then past his waist.  Phee waded beside him, one hand holding her bag safely above the water, the other swirling random patterns in the surface of the water with every step.

“Ever do much swimming?” she asked as they made their way through the pool.

“Swimming proficiency was mandatory for all clones,” said Tech.  “Kamino is a waterbound world and it would be laughable to fail to instill swimming skills in that setting.  There were also special clone commando units with additional training in underwater operations, though our squad had only cursory training in that department.”  He paused at the look on her face.  “But yes, I am an adequate swimmer.  It is not my specialty.”

“You’re like me.  Flying’s really where we shine, right?,” said Phee, wading towards the shore.  The cave’s entrance rose up before them, and Tech could see the reflections of blue and white from the water’s surface painting the walls of the cave.  “But I can swim if I need to.  Once I had to retrieve an artifact from a Naboo battlefield over an old Gungan settlement.  Place was boobytrapped to high heaven with battledroids, but not in the water.  Turned out the droids were the least of my worries.  You ever been to Naboo?”

“No,” said Tech.  “There were no clones in service during the battles on Naboo.  Kaminoan production only began in earnest shortly after that time.  My brothers and I had not yet been designed, let alone decanted.” 

Phee shook her head.  “Clone aging… that’s still a hard one to wrap my brain around.”

Tech shrugged.  “We age at roughly double the rate as unaltered humans.  It is simply a fact of life for us.”

Phee was quiet for a moment, a hint of something sad behind her eyes.  Her mouth twisted to one side.  Then she shook her head again, and continued.  “Well, anyway -- Naboo’s a nice place. If it wasn’t for the Empire, I’d say you should try to visit sometime.  But avoid going underwater, there are some freaky things down there, and I don’t mean the Gungans.  Nearly got eaten by five different giant creatures.”  She shuddered.  “Got the artifact, though, so it wasn’t all bad.”

“I am glad you were not eaten,” said Tech.  “It sounds as if it would be most unpleasant.”

She reached the shore, climbing up but slipping for a second on a rock.  Tech closed the distance between them, reaching out to steady her with a hand on her shoulder.  She refound her footing and clambered up, turning back to him with a grateful smile.  “Thanks.” 

He followed her up, water dripping down his legs, running in rivulets down his feet.  Phee was just as wet, her clothing clinging to her in a way he quite liked.  He turned his attention back to the cave, listening closely.

“I do not hear anything.”

Phee screwed up her face in concentration.  “Me neither, but it might be in deeper.  This cave system goes in for a little ways.  I don’t feel like getting deep into spelunking for this, but there might be something in one of the near chambers.”  

She carefully picked out a path on the rocky shore as they entered the cave.  There was a narrow spit of rocks encircling the water, and they climbed atop this, looking down into the water below for signs of movement.  Light dancing on the water’s surface helped to light the cove, as did glimmers of sunlight peeking in from up above them through small gaps in the rocky ceiling.  They were quiet for a few moments, concentrating on their footing and the gradually dimming light within the cave.

Phee was surefooted, leading the way without hesitation, occasionally pausing only to study the water beneath them.  He watched the water too, but his attention was divided between the gently lapping waves and Phee herself.  She moved with an easy elegance that was intriguing; long graceful neck shifting to allow her a better view, hands held out to her side to steady herself, legs balancing adroitly on the uneven rocks.  He followed in her footsteps, occasionally startled when he noticed her looking back at him with a similar focus.  

The light dimmed further, and up ahead was largely darkness.  She stopped her, sitting down on a rocky outcropping and resting her arms on her legs.  She gave him a nod, and he sat down beside her at the invitation.

“Seems like as good a place as any to wait,” she said.  

“What else do we know of this creature?”

“Not much,” Phee said.  “Last I checked, Pabu doesn’t have a marine biologist, and it’s not exactly a place that’s been extensively studied.  One of the disadvantages of being so out of the way.”

“I could change that,” said Tech thoughtfully.  “If we’re to spend more time here, I would like to continue learning about the local ecosystem and culture.”

“I think you might be the most curious person I’ve ever met,” Phee said quietly.  “I like that about you.”

“I have never understood a lack of curiosity,” he said.  “There is so much to learn and understand in this galaxy.  I could never begin to come close to learning all of it, but I would like to try.”  He smiled.  “You, of course, also seem to be a very curious person.  I… like that about you, too.”  

She smiled brightly at him.  Her brown eyes glinted with the dappled blue and white light reflecting off the water.  She leaned in, listening to him.

He wondered, suddenly, what it might be like to kiss her.

“I guess I’m just a curious soul,” Phee murmured.  

His heart seemed to be beating rather faster than normal, and he searched for something to say.   “You have asked me a great many questions about myself, for example.”

She laughed quietly, the sound echoing sweetly off the water and the walls.  “I’ve just never met anyone like you before.  You’re one of a kind, Brown Eyes.”

Perhaps she was teasing him.  He leaned back, shaking his head.  “That is blatantly incorrect. While I am unique in being a genetically modified clone, I am still one of millions --”

She reached out, fingertips brushing his cheek, her touch feather soft.  “No.  There’s no one like you, Tech.”

Oh.

He stared into her eyes, frozen.

And then he heard it, faint in the distance, coming closer.  A sound, haunting, beautiful, delicate piping layered with echoes of reflected notes building upon each other.  Phee dropped her hand, focusing intently as Tech quickly pulled out his datapad and started recording.

“The ghost, there --” Phee started, pointing past him.  He reached out quickly and took her hand, holding it closely within his own.  She turned back to him and he made a shh gesture with his free hand.  She nodded, staying quiet and still as the creature swam into view.

A pale gray shape skimmed the water’s surface, its form rounded, plump and smooth-skinned.  As it drew closer Tech realized the dappling on its back was not only due to the reflections in the water, but also due to speckles of white and darker gray spotting its skin, crisscrossed with the shapes of faint scars.  The creature was sirenian in nature; he remembered a similar manatee-like animal that had swam and played in the pooled waters of the vast wroshyr root system on Kashyyyk.  But the alshyyyr of Kashyyyk had had no voice like this.

Phee leaned in close to him, her bare shoulder brushing against his, and he realized he was still holding her hand.  His focus shifted from the fluting calls filling the cavern and back to Phee.  Her face held a look of wonder as the ghost sang, its ethereal music resonating with the water and the stone, but that had fallen into the background for Tech.  

Phee’s hand was soft in his, but strong; his thumb glided over her knuckles, the back of her hand, mapping fine hollows and ridges, tracing small old scars.  She gently squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back, marveling at how such a small motion could be so engrossing.  

She nudged him, slightly, and he looked back up at her.  “Sea ghost, remember?” she whispered, winking.

Tech nodded, gazing back at the ghost and its sweet singing.  He closed his eyes to listen to the music, alien, haunting, singular.  He was grateful they had found it, and glad that he was recording it to analyze and assess later.  Of course he should be studying the animal after their work to get here.  

But Phee’s hand in his fit perfectly.  He liked holding it.  Liked touching her.  This new thing between them, smiles and stories and laughter and touches, was truly what he had come here to investigate, and the sea ghost, lovely as it was, took a distant second in his concentration.  He could not explain it, even to himself; it was confusing.  It was new and strange.

It was mesmerizing.

---

They listened to the music of the sea ghost for nearly an hour before the dappled gray creature dipped below the water and vanished into the dark.  They waited for a few more minutes, but at last Phee turned to him and said, “I think it’s taken its leave.  We should probably go too, before the tide comes in further.”

Tech nodded, turning off his datapad and slipping it back into its pouch.  He felt a little disappointed at seeing the creature go; though how much of that was due to the ghost’s departure, and how much of it was due to the fact that this moment between him and Phee would end?

They made their way back along the rocks, Phee following along behind him.  His bare feet gripped each rock tightly.  It was slick along here as the tide had begun to come in and water had splashed on the rocks.  He picked out his path carefully while he led them back to the mouth of the cave, deep in thought.  

He narrowed his eyes as they stepped out of the cave.  The sun was now in full afternoon brightness, and even with the adaptive settings on his goggles it was still difficult for his eyes to adjust after the dark quiet of the cave.  

“Phew,” she said, rubbing her eyes.  “It didn’t seem that dark while we were in there, but that is intense.”

He turned to her once the brightness of the sunlight no longer forced him to squint.  “Thank you for coming with me.  I would not have been able to find this on my own.”  

“Everything you were hoping for?” Phee asked, crossing her arms.  “I have to say, that was some concert we were treated to.”

“I am looking forward to analyzing the recordings of the sea ghost,” said Tech.  He turned to her, smiling faintly.  “But I also enjoyed spending this time with you.”

Her face creased in a grin.  “Me too, Brown Eyes.  This getting to know you thing?  It’s all right.”  She waded into the deep pool between the cave and the rest of the shore, the water rising up to her chest.  He followed her, the warm water rising up past his waist within a few steps.  “I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure at first if you were interested.  And I didn’t want to scare you off if this was all new for you.”

“It is new,” Tech admitted, taking another step behind her.  “But that is not a problem.  It is very intriguing.”  He hesitated.  “You are intriguing.  And… I wish to learn more, if that is also what you want.”

He reached out, and took another step --

Pain.  Blinding, searing, lancing pain shooting up his right foot and leg.  He groaned and stumbled, falling forward, the water closing over his head.

“Tech!”  There was a frantic scramble of limbs and splashing of water, and after a few confused, agonizing moments he realized he was back on the sand, Phee kneeling beside him and pulling something out of his foot.  “Ahh, kriff, you stepped on a shore urchin.  That would do it!”  She tossed away a shard of bright purple material.  “How’s it feeling now?”

Tech blinked, his head swimming, though he wasn’t sure if that was from the sting or from Phee’s look of concern.  He tried experimentally to move his leg.  The pain was receding, leaving a buzzing, prickling sensation rolling up and down his foot and shin.  He stared down at the leg, realizing that the right foot was already approximately twice the size of the left.  

“Ah,” he said sagely.  “It seems to be venomous.  Fortunately, the venom also seems to have an anesthetic component.  The blinding pain has stopped and I can no longer feel my foot at all.”  He let out a long hiss of breath, trying and failing to wiggle his toes.  

“Well, I gotta love the optimism,” Phee said, her face a mixture of amusement and worry.  “I know it looks bad, but it’s not serious.  Your foot’s gonna blow up like a puffer pig for a day or two, but it’ll be all right.   Happened to me once.”

“Really?” Tech asked.  The knowledge did bring a small measure of comfort.

Phee gave him a guilty look.  “No, I was just trying to make you feel better.  But hey.  I really have heard of people stepping on these things and being fine.”

Tech reached up, disengaging his goggles to wipe them on his shirt.  He squinted up at her.  “This is an inauspicious end to our afternoon together, unfortunately.”  He slipped his goggles back into place, blinking.  

“Well, it’s not over yet,” Phee chuckled.  “We still need to get you back in one piece.  I have a feeling your family would have strong words for me if I left you here for the birds.”

“The gulls would not be interested in me unless I had already died,” Tech pointed out.  “I am far too large to register as a prey item for this species.”

“Ahhh, there’s that charm,” she said.  “Here.  Let’s get you situated.”  She pulled her bag over her head.  It was now soaking wet, which Tech realized must have happened when she dove in after him.  She reached in and pulled out a spare kerchief, similar to the blue one she wore most frequently, and wrung it out until it was no longer sopping.  She carefully bandaged his right foot, which scarcely resembled the left.  It was now mottled an unappealing red, white and purple, though at least the anesthetic properties of the venom were holding.

She gathered their shoes they had left in the sand, putting his right boot into her bag.  He wiped as much of the sand from his foot as he could before jamming the left boot back on.  It was going to be an uncomfortable walk up the stairs, he wagered.  But at least he would be in good company.

“All right.  Let me help you up.”  She held out a hand, bracing herself in the sand, and got him up.  She pulled his arm over her shoulders.  It was a very pleasant sensation having her so close, his arm draped over her shoulders, her arm slid around his waist.  It would have been better without the prickling-numb swollen foot he was dragging, however.

“It is a shame we had to sever ties with Cid,” Tech mused.  “There was no chance to retrieve AZI-3 from her bar before coming here to Pabu.  He would have been particularly helpful in a time like this.”

Phee nodded, beginning to walk, going slowly so that he could hop along with her.  “Well, I don’t think she’d be all that happy to see you if I brought you back there.  But there’s first aid options here.  Old Namira’s got a pretty good setup at her place for minor wounds and injuries, we’ll figure it out.”

“Thank you for the support,” Tech said, focusing on keeping his balance in the sand.  “It is a pity it was my right leg that was affected.  The left is still slightly weaker after I fractured it earlier this year.”

“Omega was telling me about that,” Phee said, concerned.  “That must have been painful.  Rough year for you, huh?”

“It was unpleasant,” Tech said.  “Femoral fractures are intensely painful.”  He shrugged, taking another hopping step, his left leg sliding in the sand.  Phee stabilized herself against him, compensating for the uneven terrain.  “Between AZI’s ministrations and the increased healing abilities of clones, I was only disabled for a matter of weeks.  It was still not something I am eager to repeat.”

“Do all clones heal quickly?” Phee asked as they finally reached the first staircase.  

“Yes, it is something we share with the regs.  A sublimely useful modification by the Kaminoans, particularly for soldiers,” Tech said.  They took the first step, and Tech winced as his dangling foot accidentally hit the first step. It gave a peculiar burst of sharp yet muted discomfort before fading back into numbness.  He gave it an appraising look.  “It appears to be swelling even more.”

“You good?  Or do you need a rest before we start heading up?  We can take a breather.”

“I’m all right.  Let’s continue,” he said, adjusting his arm so it lay more evenly across her shoulders.  Their cheeks brushed, and he swallowed.  His senses buzzed, each small touch from Phee electrifying.  This close he could smell her hair if he turned his head, and he caught the scents of a rich woody oil and the flowers of the weeping maya tree.  It was intoxicating.  He shook his head, trying to redirect his thoughts.  

“You’re right,” she said, wincing.  “It is getting bigger.  I’m sorry, Brown Eyes.  Not how I thought the day was going to go.”

“One never knows what hazards may be encountered in the wild,” Tech said.  “It reminds me of something that happened to my brother.  That was an insect envenomation and not an echinoderm encounter, but it triggered an intense hypersensitivity reaction.  Not only did his hand swell up, he broke out in hives everywhere.  Of course, he kept insisting he was fine -- up until his eyes threatened to swell shut.”

“Oh dear,” Phee said as they reached the next flight of stairs, breathing a little harder from the exertion.  She readjusted her arm around him, pulling him closer.  “Let me guess, Wrecker?”

“No, Crosshair,” he said.  He could still recall Crosshair ripping off his helmet to reveal an appalling urticaria over his entire face, his eyes swelling until they could only see narrow slits, his hand barely able to bend over the butt of his Firepuncher, let alone pull a trigger.  “Luckily, a few antihistamine injections were all we needed to reverse the effects.  We knew that he would make a full recovery when he began complaining again.”  

“Hang on,” said Phee, pausing.  “Who’s Crosshair?”

Tech turned to her in surprise.  “We have not spoken of him?  ….No, we have not.”  He looked up at the stairs above them, then at Phee, still breathing hard.  “Here.  We should rest a moment.”

She helped him get down to a sitting position on the stairs, then sat beside him and lifted his leg to rest it on her lap, keeping it elevated.  She rested one hand loosely on his knee, another electrifying touch.

“That’s better,” she said.  “Only… fifteen more flights to go.  We got this.”  She laughed.  “But come on, who’s Crosshair?  Another brother?  You don’t talk about him.  None of you do.”

“No,” Tech said.  “Hunter prefers not to.  Wrecker and I do speak a little of him, sometimes; Omega would speak more of him, but she was only able to spend a small amount of time with him.  He is our other brother, but as you have seen he is no longer with us.”

Phee covered her mouth with her hand, her brown eyes soft with pity.  “He died?  Oh, Tech, I’m so sorry.”

Tech’s eyes widened, and he adjusted his goggles hastily.  “What?  No, he is alive.”  He amended that statement, as he could not be certain of the veracity of it.  “Or, we hope he is.  He has chosen to remain with the Empire.”

“Oh.”  Her voice and her face shifted, a hint of coldness coloring her expression.  It looked out of place on her.  “Sorry to hear it.  I guess that’s why you don’t talk about him.”

Tech frowned.  He knew how Hunter felt about Crosshair’s decisions, but he could not fully agree with Hunter’s interpretation, and it seemed somehow important to him for Phee to have a better understanding of the situation.  “It is difficult to explain,” he said.  He took a moment, focusing on what he would like to say.   

“The Empire built a failsafe into all clones as a means to control us,” he began.  “With assistance, Wrecker, Hunter, Echo and I were able to circumvent this, but Crosshair was not.  The Empire was able to use this to divide us, forcing Crosshair to do terrible things.  But at some point, he chose to no longer be controlled -- yet continued to remain with the Empire.”

“Why would he do that?” Phee asked.  “Surely he’d want to escape, especially if they were forcing him to do something awful.”  Her brow furrowed as she tried to understand.

“I believe that the things he was made to do while under Imperial control disturbed him,” said Tech.  Crosshair’s agitated behavior on Kamino, coupled with his desperation in attempting to convince them to join him, had suggested as much.  “But Crosshair is a very proud man, and most unyielding.  I suspect it caused less cognitive dissonance for him to believe he would have acted the same, with or without that control, than to accept that he had been forced into doing things against his will.  So he has remained with the Empire rather than admit the Empire, and by extension himself, has done wrong.”  He gave her a small shrug.  “That is my understanding of what has happened.”

Phee looked horrified.  “That’s terrible.”  She rested a hand on his shoulder.  “It must be difficult to feel like you’ve lost him, even though he’s still out there.”

“It is strange to know that he was once here with us, but is no longer,” Tech agreed.  “I wish he could have chosen differently.  But if he had, he would not be Crosshair.”  

“You really care about him, don’t you?” Phee asked.  “Even after all of that.”

“Yes,” said Tech.  “I thought that was obvious.”

She gave him a small, sad half-smile.  “I’m sorry.  Maybe… maybe someday he’ll come back to you.”

“It’s possible.  But it is difficult to imagine a path forward where he chooses to do so, unless he is able to change,” Tech said, looking out at the sea.  It had begun to turn reddish gold in the late afternoon light, dancing with sparkles of white reflections.  He thought of Omega, huddled in the blue dark of a cave on Ipsidon, reaching out to him for understanding.  Perhaps what he had learned that day would help Phee understand.  “Our… family… has not been the same without him.  I have not been the same.”

“You were close?” she murmured.  “Before?”

Tech nodded.  “As you may have noticed, I often have a great deal to say.  Crosshair was always an exceptional listener, no matter the subject.  That is not to say he always remained quiet -- he could be quite cutting when he wished -- but there were many times he indulged my observations without complaint, even when I was particularly… exuberant.”

“Well, that’s something the two of us have in common,” Phee said, giving him a teasing smile.  “I like your observations.”

“It has not escaped my notice.”  He smiled slightly.

“Come on,” she said, patting his leg.  “Let’s see how much further we can get before sunset.  Up and at ‘em?”

“Yes,” he said.  They continued up the stairs, one at a time.  It was not easy work to do one-legged, even with Phee’s support, and he distracted himself by telling her more about Crosshair.  He had not spoken so freely about their brother in some time, and he was surprised by how it gave him a sensation of something loosening within his chest.  It felt good.

“So what was Crosshair’s role in your squad?” Phee asked, perhaps sensing the necessity of the distraction.

“He was an exceptional marksman,” Tech explained.  “His enhancements included heightened visual acuity, improved depth perception, and the ability to calculate complex ricochets in real time.  He is not proud without reason. I am a fair shot myself, but there were times it was simply enjoyable for us all to watch Crosshair set up a difficult shot and see him execute it to perfection.”  

“I can see how that would come in handy.  You’re all impressive in action, but it’d be interesting to see how a sniper in the mix changes things up,” said Phee.  She whistled.  “I’d have hated to be up against all of you.”

“We were indeed formidable,” Tech agreed.  “Until the collapse of the Republic, we had had a one hundred percent success rate in our missions.”  He sighed.  “Of course, things have gone rather differently since then.  We have been… adrift.”

“Well, maybe this is a place where you can find solid ground,” Phee said.  “You all seem happy here.”

“We are,” said Tech.  “It is something we have been discussing.  Omega deserves a stable environment after all she has seen.”

“You do, too,” Phee pointed out.  “Your whole life has been fighting.  Maybe it’s time to find out what else is out there.”  

“There are things that are worthwhile here,” Tech said.  He paused, shifting to face her.  They were so close.  Her breath was a soft puff against his cheek.  He searched her face, taking in her sparkling gaze, fixed on him, the way her lips curved into a gentle smile.  

“Why, thank you, Brown Eyes,” she said, and before he knew what was happening, she leaned forward and kissed him.

Ah.

This was new.

His mind whirred with sensations.  There was Phee’s mouth on his, her lips soft, smooth, slightly parted.  There was the warmth of her cheeks pressed close to his.  There was her arm around his waist, her other arm sliding around him, pulling him closer, keeping him balanced on his good leg.  He responded in kind, arms curving around her as instinct drove him, an overwhelming desire to keep her close within his arms and simply hold her.  The blood rushed in his ears and his heart stammered, beating a rapid new rhythm.  

It was overwhelming.  It was extraordinary.

She pulled back all too soon, her brown cheeks a little pinker, her eyes dancing.  He blinked at her, then reached up and shifted his goggles, breathing rather too quickly.

“That was… fascinating,” he managed.  Was that an adequate word for everything that had just happened?  It seemed as if it did not even come close to describing the moment they had just shared.

Phee’s smile was the most dazzling he’d seen yet.  “Care to give it another try?” she asked slyly.

“Oh!” Tech said, unable to keep from grinning back at her.  “Yes, if you are amenable, I very much would.”  He leaned in, closing his eyes, and lost himself in her again.

---

It was well after sunset when they limped up the final stairs to the colonnade, both of them exhausted.  They had taken their time coming up the stairs.  While Tech’s foot was starting to look better -- the swelling had gone down by half -- it still was not easy to take the stairs up without bearing weight on his right leg.  

They had also gotten distracted, several times, by taking breaks ostensibly to rest and kissing through them instead.  

“Thank you for your, ah, assistance,” Tech said.  “It is most appreciated.”

“It’s been my pleasure,” Phee said, winking at him.  “Now, how are you feeling?  Your foot’s looking better, but we could still go swing by Namira’s if you want to get it looked at.”

“I believe it will continue to improve.  If you would help me get to our ship, I will monitor it through the night,” Tech said.

“All right.  But you know I’ll be checking in on you tomorrow,” she said, squeezing her arm around him.  

“That would be most agreeable.”

They made their way to the ship beneath the rising moonlight, their pace slow and steady.  He suspected part of it was that neither of them wished to break the physical contact they shared now.  He reminded himself that she would be stopping by tomorrow.  There would be additional opportunities to spend time with her then, to learn more about her, to share more about himself.  He could not wait.

He had felt this way a hundred, a thousand times, eager to learn more and to explore and investigate a new subject.  But he had never felt this way about a person before, and he did not know what to do with this feeling except to follow it as thoroughly and as passionately as he did for all things.

They reached the Marauder and Omega bounded down the gangplank to see them, Hunter and Wrecker emerging behind her.  “There you are!  Did you find the creature?” she asked.

The creature?  

Phee nudged him in the side, and he chuckled.  So much had happened since the song in the cave he had nearly forgotten their original purpose in going to the beach.  “Yes,” he said quickly.  “I would be happy to play you its song later.  It was a most intriguing creature.  Though our expedition was not without a slight mishap.”

“Your foot!” Omega gasped.  

“Don’t tell me you broke it again,” Wrecker said, concerned.

“No, Brown Eyes here had an accident with a shore urchin,” Phee said.  “Don’t worry, it’s already looking better.  He just needs to stay off it ‘til the swelling goes down.”  She let go of him and pulled his boot out of her bag, handing it back to him.  “All right then, you take care of yourself, got it?  See you around.”  

“I… will see you too,” Tech said.  She winked again, and turned to walk away beneath the moonlight.  He watched her go until he felt Omega’s hand in his, pulling his attention back to his family.

“Come on in and get some rest,” Omega said, smiling up at him.  “If you’re hungry, we’ve got leftovers!”  Behind her back, Hunter mouthed the word “no,” shaking his head.  Tech allowed her to lead him inside, gingerly starting to put a bit of weight on his foot again as he did so.  It would be better by morning, he thought.

Omega let go of his hand as they reached the doorway, heading to the small refrigerant unit.  Hunter turned to him and said under his breath, “You can give yours to Wrecker.  Just let her down easy.  She worked hard.”  He gave Tech an odd look, then smiled.  “Hm.  Looks like you both had a good time.”  He followed Omega, stepping back into the ship.

Wrecker helped him into the ship the rest of the way.  “So… what’d you two really get up to, anyway?” he asked.  “‘Cause something about you seems different, and not just your foot.”

Tech raised his eyebrows.  “I believe that is between me and Phee, thank you.”  Wrecker stared at him, mouth falling open, so surprised he wasn’t even able to make a joke.

Tech limped back to his bunk, smiling.  There were a thousand thousand topics he could eagerly spend hours discussing, overwhelming even the most patient listener with minutiae and intricacies.  He knew he would tell the others about the sea ghost in the quiet cave, play its songs for them, extrapolate on its lineage and life cycle and habits aloud.  That he would happily share in all its detail.

But the rest -- Phee’s kisses, her hand in his, the way she had felt in his arms, her laugh, her smile -- that was something he was perfectly pleased to keep to himself.

[hobiebrownismygod]

How to write Pavitr Prabhakar - Personality Analysis

This took me a while to write, but here it is! I'll link it on the original post where the anon asked for it!

Just so you guys know, these are mainly headcanons, but I tried to research them as thoroughly as possible and I based them off my own experiences as an Indian and someone who's visited various parts of South India many times.

He's a genius

Pavitr Prabhakar is canonically a genius in robotics

Be builds drones and communication devices in the comics

Because Mumbattan is very futuristic, this would also apply to the movies

BECAUSE he's a genius, he would be more EMOTIONALLY SENSITIVE

People with high-IQs tend to be more sensitive

because they process data more quickly, they can also "sense" more overall

We see him being very excited and happy in the movie - he's very optimistic

However, we can assume that he can also snap

And when he does snap, instead of being emotional, he would be completely silent

which is very uncanny for him, so people can always tell when somethings wrong

he'll get stuck in the confinement of his mind and won't know how to get out

this also happens when he gets stressed

He's cocky

The guy loves himself

He likes the way he looks and he likes his hair

He's probably annoying with how cocky he can be

He's very confident in himself and his abilities

But this DOES NOT mean that he would put others down

He loves everyone

So even if he sounds a little condescending, he's saying it lovingly

don't write him like the perfect little guy - he's not.

he's confident, he's not a timid little baby

he definitely speaks up for himself and others

He's friendly

This one's more obvious

He's definitely very talkative and outgoing - an extrovert

STOP WRITING HIM AS TIMID AND QUIET

He's 100% THE OPPOSITE

He's probably popular

so in the comics he's not popular at all - he gets bullied for his accent and his clothes

however - I don't think this is true for movie Pavitr

first of all - he has a girlfriend so I doubt he gets genuinely bullied

second of all - he doesn't seem shy about raising his hand and being loud in that scene we saw of him in his classroom

third of all - all the Peter parkers got bullied for being nerds

but in India, being smart and a "nerd" is treasured

he wouldn't get bullied over it - he would probably be revered by his classmates

being a class topper is good 👍

He's effortless

Pavitr is effortlessly attractive, effortlessly funny, effortlessly strong, hes effortless!!

he's definitely one of those "cool people" who's just awesome without even trying

he's not shy and he isn't going to be the kind of person who's constantly shaking in their boots

he's courageous, optimistic and EFFORTLESS

the guy does not have to TRY AT ALL

he's perfect without even trying

thats his whole thing

thats going to be his arc as spiderman - realizing he can't be perfect

Have a Pavitr to go

Sources under the cut! <3:

[nahoney22]

Hey I just hopped onto the bad batch fan wagon and I absolutely love ur blog! <3 I was wondering if I could request a little something about tech x reader who lost a limb/arm during battle or on a mission and he makes her a robotic prosthetic and routinely does maintenance or upgrades on it and each visit brings them closer until they realize they love eachother?

Optimisation

Tech X F!Reader

word count: 2.8k

When you lost your arm,you almost gave up hope. No longer feeling like yourself, you didn’t know what to do. But, when Tech introduces you to a prosthetic, both of your relationships take a turn for the better.

warnings: fluff and slight angst, friends to lovers, mentions of anxious and emotional reader, loss of limb. Reader is a little reluctant at first to having a prosthetic and is standoffish. Talks about feelings. Subtle cutesy glances and touches etc. female reader. Not proofread.

authors note: I’m so sorry for the delay. Lost in my inbox 😭 enjoy. Also notices you said ‘her’ in the request so assumed it was female reader??? Anyway, enjoy! 🤍

Your mind was swirling in a sea of thoughts. Most churned with memories of the mission that had forever changed you and some thought being nothing at all.

Perched on the edge of a small cliff, your gaze swept over the picturesque landscape, offering a fleeting moment of respite.

The loss of your arm had been an abrupt, harrowing experience, a fragmented blur that you could scarcely piece together. With one arm gone, a pervasive sense of uselessness had crept into your existence. You questioned your relevance in the squad – what purpose did you now have? How could you possibly help anyone?

Suddenly, a voice disrupted the chaotic maelstrom of your thoughts. You didn't turn to face him, but you recognised it was Tech.

"Ah, there you are," he remarked as he approached, standing beside you, his presence felt more than seen.

"Here I am," you mumbled, not particularly interested in conversation. It wasn't that you harbored any ill feelings toward Tech or your comrades for that matter; you were simply weary of being treated like fragile glass. Tech however, in his own characteristic manner, had always been rather direct in his approach.

"I'm here to assess you," he stated matter-of-factly.

Your brows furrowed in mild confusion, and you turned your gaze toward Tech, who was engrossed in his datapad. "...For what?"

"Just an annual routine check," he replied, raising his eyes from the screen. "But, given your recent loss of limb, it's essential to make this assessment more comprehensive."

You heaved a heavy sigh, momentarily glancing away. This was the last thing you felt like dealing with, but deep down, you understood it needed to be done. You pushed yourself to your feet and turned to face Tech, who began to examine you, asking questions about your health and emotional state. Your responses were typically laced with bluntness and sarcasm, which seemed to go over Tech.

Yet, his examination was momentarily halted when he noticed you involuntarily flinch as he approached the space where your arm had once been, now left hauntingly vacant.

Tech observed your flinch and remarked, "You're flinching, yet you have nothing to flinch for."

You responded with a deadpan stare, then shifted your gaze to where your arm used to be, saying with sarcasm, "Oh no, where did that go?" This earned you a disapproving frown from Tech.

"I will note that down as sarcasm," Tech said, inputting data into his device, while you rolled your eyes in response.

"Are we done now?" you inquired, eager to be done with the examination.

Tech nodded, replying, "Yes, for now. I want you to come find me in a few hours. I have an idea." His words held a hint of mystery, leaving you curious. Before you could inquire further, Tech had already turned and left. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret for your earlier tone, but you were indeed worn out. Nonetheless, you couldn't help but wonder what he had in store for you.

As the hours passed, the rest of the squad departed for a supply run, and though Wrecker had offered you the opportunity to join them rather enthusiastically, you weren't quite up to it. Not just yet. But Tech had stayed behind so instead, you decided to explore Tech's request.

"Hey," you called out as you entered the Marauder's cockpit. Tech had his back to you, but he swiveled the pilot chair around to face you. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw what he held in his hands – a prosthetic arm.

"What's that?" you inquired, feeling a surge of nervousness.

"I've created an arm for you," Tech replied in his usual matter-of-fact tone, seemingly unaware of the reluctance evident on your face.

Your stomach twisted uncomfortably, and your palm grew clammy. "Oh, Tech... I'm not sure about this," you admitted, hesitating.

Tech lowered the prosthetic arm and arched an eyebrow at your apprehension. "But you are evidently unhappy about missing an arm, yes? Having a new one should be a suitable replacement."

You were torn. Undoubtedly, you yearned for your arm, but the idea of an artificial one felt invasive. Tech finally picked up on your reluctance, reading the uncertainty in your eyes.

"I suggest you take a seat, and we can discuss this together. It's just a prototype for now. Once we secure more income from Cid, I can enhance it," Tech reassured, adopting a more empathetic tone.

You silently took a seat across from Tech, perched on the edge of the chair as he scooted a bit closer. "I took the liberty of assessing Echo's cybernetic as a base plan," he explained.

"Are you going to give me a scomp link too?" you questioned, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

"That is a choice that is up to you," Tech replied, very gently rolling up your sleeve to assess the area. "Would you like one, similar to Echo's?"

"Is it bad if I say no?" you muttered, apprehension evident. Tech glanced up at you briefly and then shook his head. "Like I said, it is primarily your choice."

With efficient precision, Tech attached the prosthetic arm. You couldn't bring yourself to look at it. "Inform me on how it feels," he requested.

You remained in silence, feeling the weight of this sudden change press upon you. The experience felt unnatural, and you weren't prepared for the emotional shift it brought. Tears welled up in your eyes, and your throat tightened.

"You need to speak for me to—" he began to say, but then stopped as he saw a single tear slowly roll down your cheek. "Is it hurting? Uncomfortable?" He asked, panicking slightly.

You sniffled and confessed, "No, I... I don't know. I don't know how to feel, how it should feel."

Tech clicked his tongue as the realisation dawned that he might not fully comprehend your emotional state. He considered what Hunter might do in this situation and then carefully reached out, placing a somewhat awkward yet comforting hand on your knee. "If it's too much, we can revisit this another day. I should have been more transparent during the assessment earlier."

Wiping away a tear, you looked at his hand on your knee and then up at him, a mix of gratitude and regret in your eyes. "I'm sorry. You put in so much effort—"

"This was actually relatively straightforward," Tech assured with a hint of fondness, acknowledging his own exceptional skills. "But after twenty-two rotations of you missing your arm, I should have waited a bit longer or offered you this solution earlier."

This time, you managed a smile and watched as he carefully removed the prosthetic. As he packed it away in its case, you said nothing more. However, when you stood to leave, you hesitated and turned back to him.

"Tech?"

"Yes?" he responded.

"Can we try again? Maybe tomorrow?"

He turned to you and offered a faint, reassuring smile. "Of course. Come and find me whenever you are ready.”

Late in the evening, much later than anticipated, the following day, you mustered up the courage to face Tech. Wearing a sheepish smile, you found him alone in the cockpit. "I must say I wasn't expecting you to show up today," he greeted you as you took a seat across from him.

"I have to admit, I wasn't sure if I was going to show up either," you confessed. "I had to psyche myself up."

"Very well, let's get to it," Tech replied, reaching for the prosthetic arm that he had tucked away under a control panel. You quietly observed that he had been clearly tinkering with it today as it looked slightly different from the last time you saw it – this time it had a hand.

"May I?" Tech gestured to your sleeve, and with a nod, he rolled it up. You glanced away as he manually attached the prosthetic, still not fully comfortable with looking at the stump that remained. It was a bit fidgety this time, but you felt no pain.

"Now, how does it feel?" Tech repeated the question from yesterday. Slowly, you turned your attention to the new addition to your body.

"I don't know," you admitted.

He raised an eyebrow. "Can you enlighten me about the weight? Is there a perfect counterbalance, or...?"

You attempted to move the arm, but it was just a small, feeble motion. Deep in concentration, you struggled to get your brain to sync with your new limb. This time, Tech noticed your disappointment. "A simple alteration will do the trick, I assure you."

"Don't worry, I trust you," you reassured him softly, causing Tech to pause at your words.

"You do?" he asked, sounding somewhat surprised as he turned his attention to you.

You nodded, your sincerity apparent. "Well, yeah? Of course, I do. I'm... I'm very grateful for you doing this. You didn't have to."

A warm smile graced Tech's face as he fidgeted slightly with his tools. "No, but I wanted to. You've done a lot for us since you joined our squad. It's only fair that I give you something in return." He leaned in to assess the arm once more, ensuring the measurements were precise.

As Tech's deft fingers worked on your new arm, you couldn't help but feel something different. The proximity was unusual yet not unwelcome, and you found yourself intrigued. Has he always been this handsome? Breaking the silence that had fallen between you, you asked, "Have you always been good at this kind of stuff, or do you have expertise in other areas?"

Tech replied quietly, "I've always been good at everything. But statistics and data have always been what I've excelled in the most. This isn't second nature to me, so don't worry. You're in good hands."

"I can tell," you responded softly. This time, he looked at you, and the proximity between your faces caught both of you off guard. His eyes searched yours as he tried to decipher your thoughts and feelings, while he felt a strange fluttering feeling in his chest, “you've always been good to me.”

He gulped but he held your gaze a moment longer before turning his attention back to his work. Tech cleared his throat once more and tried to refocus on the work at hand, yet the distraction had left its mark. "I see that some of the measurements are a little off, so I will have to a-alter it again," he explained, sitting up and looking at you. The subtle stutter in his words caught your attention, and you found it surprisingly endearing.

You nodded in agreement, your heart racing a bit faster than you'd anticipated. "That's fine."

As the prosthetic was removed, you stood up, and to your surprise, so did Tech. The closeness was undeniable, and your breath hitched as you looked up at his tall, slender frame. Was he always this ridiculously handsome? Was it merely a fleeting feeling because of his help with the new arm, or had there been something underlying all along?

You intended to thank him, but in that moment, you caught him looking at your lips. Or so, you thought you did. Was the lights playing tricks on you or were you that delusional? But as the awkwardness lingered, Tech quickly realised his gaze had strayed and cleared his throat. "Same time tomorrow?" he suggested, avoiding direct eye contact.

You took a step back, creating some much-needed space between you, and nodded. "Uh, y-yes, sure." Your own stutter surprised you, and to avoid any further awkwardness, you retreated to your bunk. What on Kamino was happening?

Tech had worked miracles in just a few days, tirelessly devoting every waking moment to helping you adjust to your new prosthetic. And today was no exception as he had you practicing with various types of equipment.

"Tech, I think I've got the hang of it. I don't need to hold a holopad every five minutes," you protested.

"Repetition leads to full optimisation. So, do as you're told," he instructed, his gaze fixed intently on you through the rings of his goggles.

"Yes, sir," you replied, playfully rolling your eyes. You both avoided addressing what had happened the other day when you caught him gazing at your lips. Nevertheless, your attraction to him had grown, and he had become more than just a friend in your heart.

Spending so much time together, you had picked up on each other's quirks, likes, and dislikes. You had a genuine camaraderie, and you both had fun in each other's company. Tech made you feel normal, and it wasn't just the feeling of a comrade giving you an arm; it was the warmth of a friend, and perhaps something more, offering you some hope and happiness.

"What are you thinking about?" Tech asked, interrupting your reverie.

"Honestly?" you asked, your new prosthetic arm flexing up and down as your fingers tapped absently at a datapad, giving you an air of importance. "You."

Tech had picked up some tools as he continued to monitor your progress with the prosthetic. He was working on other projects simultaneously, but your words caught him off guard, and he stumbled slightly, dropping the tools to the floor. "Oh, well, is that a recurring thought… or something new?" he asked, his response laced with awkwardness as he fixed his clumsiness and pushed his goggles up his nose.

You shrugged, your nonchalance masking the true depth of your feelings. "I guess it's new... I'm just enjoying your company." Your heart pounded with a meaning that transcended the words. "And I don't know where to start on how to repay you for the arm."

"Nothing to repay," Tech replied sincerely, his voice a touch shy. He added, "I suppose,” he pauses for a second, hesitant for the first time in a long time, but goes ahead, “being in your company is enough for me, too."

Much like the other day, and sometimes throughout the days in between him fixing your arm, you both find yourself looking at each other. Really looking. Your eyes meet and it’s as if words were slowly being exchanged over, expressing how both of you were feeling in that moment.

However, Tech grappled with his feelings, unsure how to express them. He wasn't well-versed in emotions, and these thoughts about you were entirely new to him. He questioned if these inclinations were normal, the desire to kiss you, and the mere notion felt alien because he had never encountered such thoughts before. His brain was designed for well, anything but this. Not for pondering if a girl liked him.

"Have you ever felt scared before?" The question caught Tech off guard, making him think deeply.

"Yes, yes, I have actually," he admitted, surprising you. You raised a curious eyebrow.

"Mind telling me?" you asked gently, watching as his knee began to bounce restlessly.

He shifted his position and turned slightly away from you, an uncharacteristic shyness creeping over him. "It was quite recent. To be more precise, it was the mission in which you lost your arm."

You whispered a soft "oh" in response, feeling a mix of emotions as he continued to speak.

"You've always been a strong presence in this squad. Although you might not be as intelligent as I am, you're smart. You're well-trained in combat, you're good to Omega, and you're good to all of us," he explained, focusing on a small task in his hands rather than looking at you. "I feared that with you losing your arm, you would feel at a disadvantage. I suppose I was scared of you losing yourself. That's why I created the arm."

Tech's confession left you somewhat speechless, and his avoidance of eye contact spoke volumes. "You really care about me?" you asked, seeking confirmation.

He stilled, and you could see him swallow hard. "I do. Though, I feel that I care about you more than just a comrade. More than a friend." His words were careful, yet they carried a depth of meaning that you understood. He loved you, and you felt the same way.

With tenderness, you leaned closer, your new arm raising to gently turn his head to face you. There was a small gasp at the touch, but as he looked at you, his gaze focused once more on your lips.

You closed the gap, your lips pressing softly against his in a tender kiss. It was brief, but as you pulled back, Tech surprised you by dropping his tools to the floor once more and cupping your cheeks with both hands, bringing your lips back to his.

In the tender embrace of your kiss, your fingers lightly trailed along the contours of Tech's cheek, eliciting a soft sigh from him. His hands cradled your face, his thumbs tenderly stroking your cheeks as he whispered softly between your lips, "I believe that I… love you."

The warmth of his breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine as your kiss deepened. Your arms found their way around his shoulders as he used one arm to pull you across and into his lap, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw with a gentle caress. "I believe that I love you too.”

Masterlist

More Tech Works

Tags and those who I think may like : @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz z @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @imalovernotahater @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness @zoeykallus

[in1-nutshell]

Hii! I absolutely loved your requests and how the characters act and wished they were longer, but! I wanna request of the continuation of Buddy being Bee’s twin who was brainwashed to be a con!

BUT I WANT BUDDY AND BEE TO REUNITE WITH BUDDY COMING BACK TO THE BOTS SIDE PLEASE

The twins are going to be reunited! Or are they...

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy being Bumblebee's Twin who was brainwashed and reunited

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronain reader

TFP

Starcsream was the one who left Pandora’s box open.

He was having one of those days again.

Being pinned down by Megatron, having the Autobot’s kick in new dents into his wings, and worst of all being laughed at by his underlings!

Starscream limping in the halls.

Buddy walking by.

“Hey, do you need help getting to the med bay?”--Buddy

Starscream swiping Buddy’s servo.

“Get away from me Autobot scum!”--Starscream

Starscream walking away.

This peaked Buddy’s curiosity.

Starscream was many things, but when he gets mad, he always lets some hidden truth out.

So why did he call them an Autobot?

For the last months on Earth Buddy had been facing off to the yellow mech in every encounter they had.

Nearly having the chance to offline him on multiple occasions, but they always hesitated at the last second.

They first thought that their trigger digit was seizing up and had Knockout look at it.

Buddy sitting on the med bay as Knockout examines their servo.

“Hmm… interesting.”--Knockout

“What?”--Buddy

“Nothing seems to be wrong with it.”--Knockout

“That’s… strange.”--Buddy

“Well, my work here is done.”--Knockout

“Do you recommend I do anything in case it happens again?”--Buddy

“…Try using your other servo.”--Knockout

This interaction only further deepened the curiosity.

They knew better than to ask anyone on board.

So, they would have to do some snooping on their own.

But they had to be careful about it.

Buddy chose the rare time Soundwave was out of the ship to gain access to the mainframe.

They could easily delete their footprint from everyone, but Soundwave always terrified them to an extent.

Better safe than sorry.

It took a matter of finding some hidden files under their name to finally piece together the story.

A rather horrifying realization.

Buddy was an Autobot.

They were related to the yellow mech.

They were his twin.

Buddy’s tanks never sunk so low as it did when they read the statement repeatedly.

They had nearly offlined their own twin and they didn’t even know it.

They saw pictures of them as an Autobot. The frame was different, but at the same time, it felt familiar.

It turned out that Starscream himself had managed to kidnap Buddy during a confrontation with Megatron. He brought them for interrogation, after they didn’t budge Megatron and Shockwave decided to make use of them, through shadow play and memory alteration Buddy was a blank slated and had been replaced with altered memories with an altered frame.

Buddy felt sick as they downloaded the information to the data slug.

Making sure that they left everything how it was they quickly left to their habsuite.

They knew they needed to make a decision with this new information.

They knew which one they were going to make.

It took a week of preparations, but they did it.

Now was to act.

“All right. I’ve destroyed the tracker and the remote groundbrigde should be online in a couple more nanoclick… This is actually going according—”--Buddy

CRASH!

BANG!

“…I had to jinx it didn’t I?”—Buddy

BANG! BANG!

“No matter… Just need to input the coordinates… and pull the—”--Buddy

Achoo!

“Bless you. Now –"--Buddy

Buddy stops and looks to where the sound was.

They look down to see a teeny human with glasses looking at them.

“…”--Buddy

“…”--Raf

“…I hope you don’t take this the wrong way.”--Buddy

“Why—”--Raf

Buddy tossing him into their subspace and jumping into the groundbrigde.

Buddy came out the other way, skidding on the rocky ground as the groundbridge closed behind them.

They were finally free.

Now time to deal with the next steps…

Buddy opening their subspace and grabbing the human.

“Sorry about that.”--Buddy

“Who?! What!—”--Raf

“I know what this looks like, but this is not a kidnapping.”--Buddy

“I kinda does…”--Raf

“Yeah, it does but it was either that or have one of those Cons step on you. And quite frankly, your species has grown on me a bit.”--Buddy

“…Thanks?”--Raf

“Yeah, anyways the names Buddy kid. What’s your name?”--Buddy

“Raf. What a minute. Bumblebee said he had a twin named Buddy…”--Raf

“Well, there’s something about that… you can read Cybertronian can you?”--Buddy

“Yes?”--Raf

“Look at the screen.”--Buddy

Buddy did not expect the surprise hug that the teeny human gave them.

He began ramble all sorts of stories Bee had told him about them in hopes of recalling memory.

“As much as I appreciate you trying to help, I still don’t remember much.”--Buddy

“Sorry…”--Raf

“It’s all right, kid. Its not your fault. But I am hoping to find your Autobot friends to help me with this. I know my chances are slim to none—”--Buddy

“I’m sure they can help! Or at least look at it.”--Raf

Buddy smiling at Raf carefully patting his head.

Click!

“Servos where I can see them Con!”--Arcee

Buddy turns around slowly with Raf in their servos.

Arcee and Bumblebee have their blasters out.

“Beep bep boop! (Put him down now!)”--Bumblebee

“Bee wait! Its Buddy!”--Raf

“What kind of lies has that Con been telling you!”--Arcee

“No! Really, Buddy show them the data slug!”--Raf

Buddy handing the data slug and Raf to Bumblebee.

“… He only said the data slug, what’s your plan Con?”--Arcee

“I don’t have any plans. And quite frankly you’re my only hope right now.”--Buddy

“Beep? (Hope?)”--Bumblebee

“I… I recently found out that a good portion of my memories had been altered. My frame altered. And… Listen I’ll come with you cuffed and unarmed, I just need to know if what on that data slug is correct with your data base or not.”--Buddy

“Beep bop boop? (What’s on the data slug?)”--Bumblebee

“… I don’t want to give anyone false hope… just cuff me. If there isn’t anything useful, I’ll tell you everything I know about the Nemesis.”--Buddy

“… cuff’em Bee.”—Arcee

Raf wasn’t too happy seeing Buddy cuffed, but he supposed it was for safety reasons.

No one was happy seeing the Con that had gone after Bumblebee at the base in some cuffs.

While Arcee explained the whole situation, Bumblebee strapped them onto the med bay slab.

The two exchanged some looks before looking away.

“You’re telling us that there is a possibility that you could be Bumblebee’s twin?”--Ratchet

“Yes.”--Buddy

“Hmmm. Highly unlikely. I knew Buddy, they would never—”--Ratchet

“Listen, can you just verify the dates! Sorry if that sounds insensitive, but I really just want to know if someone has been messing with my processor!”--Buddy

“The data is almost done. But if I may ask, what made you want to look at this now?”—Optimus

“…Some things haven’t been adding up lately, and when Screamer said I was an Autobot… I just got curious. Either way I’m not going back to the Cons. I’m not going to risk my tailpipe for some leader who keeps putting unfamiliar substances into his chassis, and… yeah.”--Buddy

“Beep bop (you hesitated.)”--Bumblebee

“…Maybe…”--Buddy

“Beeepbep bop (Is there another reason?)”--Bumblebee

“…So, what if I don’t agree with the annihilation of an entire species that has nothing to do with the war.”--Buddy

Scan complete.

“Finally! Let’s see what it says!”--Bulkhead

“Yip, yip, Bulkhead stand away from the console.”--Ratchet

“Right, sorry.”--Bulkhead

“And the scan says—By the Allspark…”--Ratchet

“Beep (What?)”--Bumblebee

“Yeah, what’s going on? I can’t exactly see with you guys’ backsides in my line of vision.”--Buddy

“Buddy.”--Ratchet

“Yes?”--Buddy

“… Your presumptions are correct. Bumblebee, that is your twin.”--Ratchet

Both Bots freeze before fainting.

“At least one of them is on the med slab?”--Miko

“Miko not now.”--Raf

[luigiblood]

An interesting view of Retro NSO Patents

So a bunch of patents from Nintendo recently got published and got my attention: They are related to the retro Nintendo Switch Online service and how it works and it brings a bit of an interesting view of it, with features that are DEFINITELY not inside the apps as of now.

As I went through them, I decided to also go back a little bit to earlier ones.

Just in case, for every reader:

At no point this describes the future of NSO! Let that be clear!!

Unlike most people who reports on patents, I actually will LINK the original patents.

US11003312B2 - NSO User Interface

You can find this patent here: https://patents.google.com/patent/US11003312B2/en

This seems to be among the earliest ones, it's from 2018, right before the launch of NES NSO that happened in September 2018.

This is an exact description of how the NSO UI works, where each image (or box arts, as they are usually used) are scaled roughly equivalent to each row so it always fits perfectly.

They had planned initially for details to be basically on the box art, thankfully they changed that completely for a full window in the final version.

They also had Special versions / Extra versions also nailed down already at that time, which are just games with preloaded save states, which the patent does explain. And the whole NEW thing where a new game is packaged like a gift and you just open them as you select them, that's already in the final app as well.

But here's something cursed:

This is a full vertical version of the user interface, which we've never seen so far.

US20240165505A1 - GB/GBA Multiplayer

This patent can be found here: https://patents.google.com/patent/US20240165505A1/en

This existed since late 2022 in Japan, but got a US version the next year, then published this year.

This patent explains how multiplayer works for GB and GBA NSO, as in emulating multiplayer between different linked systems, whether through LAN or online.

It gets complicated to read, but it's really about different ways to handle emulation of multiplayer, from one way where each player run their own emulator on their systems, to what I believe to be actually used: Running up to 4 emulators on each player's systems at the same time and keeping them synchronized through each player's input, but only display one of them corresponding to each player.

I believe this last way is used because all data sent through link cable is expected to be instant, you cannot delay this data, because this is asking for constant lag, but emulating all consoles on each player's system does solve this problem.

There also some quick algorithms in there about how to handle connections, disconnections and so on, but at this point it's not too interesting to explain because it works just like the apps.

US20240181342A1 - NSO User Interface (Save System)

This patent can be found here: https://patents.google.com/patent/US20240181342A1/en

It's dated just like the previous one, actually.

It might sound like the first one, but this one is more than meets the eye. Some articles talked about this as like, new Switch OS UI which is just bullshit (hi GameRant), or as GameCube NSO (wtf are you smoking to think of that straight up), but this one is actually about saves!

This image is actually having the main game on the left side, and everything to its right are all save states! You can see 2 saves for the first game, and 5 saves for the second game, it even has two rows for a single game which never happens on NSO apps. Of course, each save are just essentially having a screenshot of when the save state was taken at that moment.

This can very well be an alternative way of things, as I think this looks quite a bit cumbersome in how much space it uses.

But what's interesting is the Auto Save feature, which is not a feature of retro NSO currently. It is explained that the auto save can be enabled or not, and can happen anytime, including within a repeated time interval. This would be very nice in case of crashes.

And then, the elephant in the room: Yes, this looks like you could do more than 4 saves, with a peek of the suspension menu with a way to scroll through saves, the first option being to create a new save, without necessarily having to choose a numbered save state ID.

US20240173627A1 - Mission Play Mode

This patent can be found here: https://patents.google.com/patent/US20240173627A1/en

Now, this one is really sad because this shows an actual mission mode for retro NSO apps with objectives and rewards!

This has a new mode included called Mission Play, and you are provided with a mission that you can enter.

In this case it's about hitting enemies, keeping a count for a mission, but also even keeping a count of every single player in a region, and then the world!

This is really cool! I really think they should be doing this, but it seems Nintendo World Championships: NES Edition might do it instead.

That said, this being planned for retro NSO systems is definitely not entirely news for me, because I had noticed a long time ago that the SNES NSO emulator definitely kept track of specific game information as you play, it wasn't necessarily sent anywhere, but they were thinking about it, for several SNES games.

Funnily enough, these are real examples of detections for Super Mario Advance 2 specifically. This is pretty much how the memory and code looks like for the game.

I want to insist though: These are patents, these are for ideas, so this patent might have been publicly published because of Nintendo World Championships: NES Edition, but through experience, most of the time, as much as they describe stuff for illustrative purposes, it is usually describe a real example that was in development at one point or another.

Again, though: At no point this describes the future of NSO! Let that be clear!

But it gives us a view of what Nintendo and NERD had in mind for development. And, at least, I actually give links unlike a few who loves to tease bullshit through those.

[itsbansheebitch]

More thoughts

I get both sides, but I feel a little confused they couldn't find four people in their +25 employees

Data analyst (Are you seriously telling me you couldn't personally email or even just HIRE matpat's team who do data analytics as part of Theorist Media to help??? The man would be overjoyed to help???)

Editor (Put the first $6 towards a can of coffee grounds, dude)

PR Team (Even, like, a single person, please, for the love of god)

Business Major (Or literally anyone that has taken a home ec/budgeting/personal finance class)

First, the Dish Granted series was started when gold leaf burgers were novel, now it's seen as tone deaf (for obvious reasons) it should have shifted to something like interviews with people who make that kind of food or local businesses (like parmesan cheese shops in Parma, Italy) or the history of food (like talking about the history of modern Native American slavery on Californian wine vinyards). Not to mention the untapped potential of Food Fraud topics. Either shift it, or scrap it. Any data analyst or chronically online person could tell you that.

Second, why did you keep "anyone can afford $6 a month" in? Are the editors asleep at the wheel? Are they overworked? What is going on? You know damn well to not make generalizations about what people can afford. That's NEVER a good idea, especially when you KNOW (because YT gives you analytics) that most of your viewers are young (16/18-30/35 range, I'd guess) who probably, either 1, are still in school and either arent paid well/dont have jobs OR 2, arent paid well and tired of people's shit, like people who own businesses talking about "tough financial decisions." To them, Watcher isn't going to look different from the other people talking like that, because this was so sudden, with no input from fans, and in the video you hear shit like "anyone can afford [X]." To be frank, it wouldn't really matter what the amount is, because that generalization goes against the message they have stood by for years. THAT is a slap in the face.

Third, what are yall doing with the budgeting? Every artist has a right to make art that they are proud of. Every artist deserves to have their work seen if they so choose. Every artist deserves to make a living. HOWEVER, there are MANY options online when it comes to making money, especially on YT. You could get into marketing, data analysis, expanding your demographic, looking at what people are interested in right now VS what will stand the test of time (not gold leaf burgers), etc.

You have to either have these skills, develop these skills, or hire someone to do it for you. It's understandable that you would want a team behind the production, but I find +25 employees to be WAY too many people, especially in LA. Bailey Sarian has a Dark History section on her YT (and Spotify podcast) where she has hired historians to help make sure her episodes are as accurate as possible. You've caught heat before from Puppet History's missing & incorrect info, you should do the same. She has about three (3) "intermissions" per episode for ad breaks. I never see anyone complain. People WOULD listen to yall talk for that long (+1 hour videos), tbh, though that's not necessary.

Why are yall out here with Teslas, expensive food, new gear, scripts (where there weren't scripts before, PH is different, that makes sense), and "better than TV" level sets??? I need to put your accountant in this week's church prayer list what the actual hell??? Ya'll, this video is literally the meme:

Guys help me budget:

LA Rent: 2K per month

Videos: 100K per vid

+25 Employees: God only knows

New stuff for videos: Don't get me started

Like, are you serious?

You have a right to do whatever you want with your art. You have a right to charge whatever you'd like for that art. You have a right to make a living from your art and you have a right to ask your fans for money.

Your fans have a right to be angry when they've been supporting yall for, what, almost 10 years? They have a right to choose when and where to spend their money even when you've made an impact. They have a right to feel betrayed, especially when there are better options (like Nebula or consulting with Theorist Media).

Fans DO NOT have a right to be racist to any members of Watcher, now that they have made a decision they do not agree with.

I personally, think this is a really silly decision and could have been solved (haha solved) with a simple YT poll, but apparently we had to get... this. I respect their decision, I just don't think it was a smart one. I wish them the best, and I hope they find a better solution. Any further comment from me will depend on what steps they take next.

[kristinagehrmann]

The US Copyright Office is currently asking for input on generative AI systems ...

... to help assess whether legislative or regulatory steps in this area are warranted. Here is what I wrote to them, and what I want as a creative professional: AI systems undermine the value of human creative thinking and work, and harbor a danger for us creative people that should not be underestimated. There is a risk of a transfer of economic advantage to a few AI companies, to the detriment of hundreds of thousands of creatives. It is the creative people with their works who create the data and marketing basis for the AI companies, from which the AI systems feed. AI systems cannot produce text, images or music without suitable training material, and the quality of that training material has a direct influence on the quality of the results. In order to supply the systems with the necessary data, the developers of those AI systems are currently using the works of creative people - without consent or even asking, and without remuneration. In addition, creative professionals are denied a financial participation in the exploitation of the AI results created on the basis of the material. My demand as a creative professional is this: The works and achievements of creative professionals must also be protected in digital space. The technical possibility of being able to read works via text and data mining must not legitimize any unlicensed use! The remuneration for the use of works is the economic basis on which creative people work. AI companies are clearly pursuing economic interests with their operation. The associated use of the work for commercial purposes must be properly licensed, and compensated appropriately. We need transparent training data as an access requirement for AI providers! In order to obtain market approval, AI providers must be able to transparently present this permission from the authors. The burden of proof and documentation of the data used - in the sense of applicable copyright law - lies with the user and not with the author. AI systems may only be trained from comprehensible, copyright-compliant sources.

____________________________

You can send your own comment to the Copyright Office here: https://www.regulations.gov/document/COLC-2023-0006-0001

My position is based on the Illustratoren Organisation's (Germany) recently published stance on AI generators: https://illustratoren-organisation.de/2023/04/04/ki-aber-fair-positionspapier-der-kreativwirtschaft-zum-einsatz-von-ki/

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Hey lovely! Congratulations on the milestone! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

I wish to humbly request Tech with a romantic fem!reader. Your choice of spice! (I’m happy with either SFW or suggestive!) 300 words with the prompt 1. "You... you really mean it, don't you?"

Thank you again lovely! 😘😘😘

One Game

Tech x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader

Tags & Warnings: insomnia, fluff

Word Count: 300

Author's Note: MAMA PINEAPPLE, I AM SO SORRY. I got so carried away trying to complete the bingo fics that I let the last three event requests sit idle in my inbox. However, as promised in my New Years post, I have finally completed it!!! Thank you so much for your patience and putting up with me. I hope you like it 💚

The night is late, but your insomnia is out in full force. You toss and turn in your small bunk, as the Marauder careens through hyperspace. You sigh and decide to get out of your bunk to go do something other than trying to fall asleep. As you make your way through the corridor and towards the refresher, you see Tech sitting by himself and staring at his data-pad.

"Can't sleep either?" you say as you approach him.

Tech doesn't look up from his data-pad. "I prefer to work after the others have gone to sleep."

"Oh," you say, slightly disappointed.

"I presume that you cannot sleep?" Tech asks, still tapping on his data-pad.

"You presume correctly," you sigh, then flop down onto the seat next to him.

You both sit in silence for a moment.

"Hey," you say, breaking the silence. "Do you want to play dejarik?"

Tech lifts his eyes over his data-pad. "Not at this time."

"Please?" you ask. "I'm so bored. Just one game?"

Tech sighs. "If it will keep you quiet so I can finish my work, then I will agree."

"Sweet!" you exclaim.

You get up from your seat and set up the game on the holo-projector. You input your team and patiently wait for Tech to set up his team. The game goes on for several turns, and at one point, you thought you might actually beat him, but in the end, he still wins the round.

"You're very good at this," Tech says. "Perhaps we should play another round."

"You…" you say with a shocked expression. "You really mean it, don't you?"

"Mean what?" he asks.

"That's the first compliment you've ever given me," you say with a smile.

"Well," he begins as he adjusts his goggles, "it is a well-deserved compliment."

Event Masterlist

Masterlist

A03

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[pancakeke]

I made a customer so mad on a call today that he muted and turned his camera off lol.

I did it on purpose though.

We needed to create a process but this dude always dominates the convo to give long pointless monologues about how *something* needs to be done in relation to vague nonspecific things (like "I don't like what I'm seeing here" ok then WHAT are you seeing??) He absolutely refuses to give concrete details or make actionable requests, plus he's always extremely disrespectful, accusatory, and lies about things. So I kept cutting off his unhelpful monologues to ask for specifics and when he didn't give them I gave options for what we could do rather than letting him continue to make the same whiny statements over and over but with different wording each time.

Then he tried to derail by doing this needlessly dramatic arm waving and wandering away from the camera thing, then wandering back with his head in his hands while saying weird phrases I assume were some kind of worthless business speak phrases? (Example, the last one he said was "Just take the weekend off". Maybe this means like "we need to take a break and regroup"? I legit do not know the intent. I directly asked "What do you mean by that?", no paraphrasing, but he ignored me so maybe he was telling me to go fuck myself. idk).

Anyway I kept being direct and trying to sort out a plan of action with our salesperson meanwhile this dude kept interjecting with absolutely asinine statements like "YOU need to figure this out" referring to my company, not me specifically. But like that was literally what we were doing at that moment?? So I asked him "Are you asking us to create new procedures without your company's input? Ideally need to know specifically where you're having issues to know how I should create reporting." Then he shut his webcam and mic off.

Progress was made at this point since he wasn't interrupting anymore but that didn't last long cause he jumped back in to make a big deal about how he couldn't stay on the call longer because he had another meeting soon. But if he has just explained that in one sentence rather than monologuing about his time we could have made more actual plans.

idk if this guy is purposely trying to stop us from creating a process though cause he blew up at us when we had extra inventory on hand (that he told us to buy) which then led him to tell us that we weren't allowed to make any purchases for them without approval. After this we sent a purchase request over to them for approval and they didn't approve it (we were ghosted, not denied), which made this guy is blow up at us again for not just buying the components immediately without asking.

I think he just wants us to do whatever benefits him in the moment and also he doesn't ever want us to hold his company accountable (per our contract...) for any unused components. and since documentation and processes creates accountability, they're bad for someone who wants instant gratification and no responsibility.

This call was so fucking bewildering though. It was like this guy had a book of business speak phrases and thought that if he kept reading them off he would look smart and important and then we would just flagellate ourselves at his feet. Even though the problem is pretty much his fault for not managing his side of the business. These guys have turned derailing conversation into a goal so I went robot mode and wouldn't let myself say a word that wasn't data-focused. I really hoped this would force their side to speak in numbers and facts so I could get info and ideas from them that we could actually use to build a new procedure.

But now I see that my plan was doomed from the start cause this guy will just disappear if I don't let him spend the whole meeting listening to himself talk while not actually saying anything.

I have some kind of brain problem where I always think that if I can figure out how to communicate with people in juuust the right way they'll stop being cunts and cooperate with me. Cause I'm working for their benefit so they should want to work together, right? :)

Wrong. People are fucking bonkers. They do not care about problem solving. It's all about ego. And somehow their egos do not recognise how purposely creating problems leads to failures that might reflect poorly on them.