#no knowledge of the bad batch required

[stardustandash]

Next Febuwhump fic!! This time it is the prompt 'outnumbered' and I've chosen J:FO (with a little Bad Batch flavour, no knowledge of the Bad Batch required). This one goes out to the Merrin and whump fans <3

Words: 2,247

Tags: blood and injury, hurt/comfort, BAMF Merrin

ao3 link

Outnumbered and Outgunned

The Empire always has a funny way of showing up at the worst moments. Things are already going sideways for Merrin on this mission but with the addition of the empire everything has gone from bad to worse. The Jedi relic she was supposed to be collecting for Cere was gone, and her pilot turned out to be some kind of treasure hunter, or “liberator of ancient wonders” herself, and had dragged her all through the ancient temple even after Merrin had said they should go back. Which had led them straight into the reason why the temple was empty in the first place: an Imperial base.

So here Merrin stands, with her back to a crumbling Jedi temple, only her dagger and magicks to arm herself, in front of what seems like a hundred Stormtroopers. At her side her pilot and treasure hunter mutters to herself and draws a blaster. While Merrin would like to think that the two of them have become a little more than strangers, she never knows how anyone will react to seeing Nightsister magick for the first time. She can only hope that this will be one of the times her companion is unflappable.

Without waiting to give the Stormtroopers a chance at aiming their blasters Merrin teleports herself into their ranks and slashes out with her dagger. She has practised the art of sinking it into the soft, fleshy gaps between the plates of white armour and her aim remains true. The first trooper goes down in a gurgle of blood and Merrin vanishes before the one next to him can raise his blaster.

From somewhere behind the sea of white-armoured bodies Merrin hears her pilot yelling taunts and blaster fire, so she can assume that the other woman is doing alright. For a while Merrin manages to hold her own. Over the years since leaving Dathomir she has honed her ability to kill into a deadly grace. The blood on her hands means one less Stormtrooper in the Imperial army. One less blaster gunning for the innocent. She carves her way through countless bodies, leaving a trail of death and fear in her wake.

And yet, there are more.

Stormtroopers seem to be respawning two for every one fallen. Merrin can feel herself flagging, the familiar feeling of a fist below her ribcage settling in as the first sign of her magick running thin. On Dathomir she would have been able to raise the dead to fight for her and pull upon an endless sea of magick. Out here in the galaxy she could only bring what magick with her she could build up with meditation. Cal always had another explanation, one to do with the Force and energy and some other things, but since they had parted ways it was best to leave those thoughts behind as well.

Merrin pops into existence behind a trooper and he falls with a gurgling scream. The effort of her magick is taking its toll now, she can feel the heaviness settling into her bones. Though she can still hear the exchange of blaster fire she can no longer hear taunts and insults above it. She hopes that only means her pilot is getting as tired as she is, not that she is injured. Merrin may know a little about flying, but she cannot get a ship she does not know off the ground and chart a course for Jedha. With a small pull at her magick she expands her dagger into a spear. With it she can sweep around her and keep the endless sea of troopers back as she cuts her way through towards her pilot.

Without her teleportation, however, Merrin becomes a much easier target for the Stormtroopers. They focus their blaster shots at her, and unlike a lightsaber, her spear won’t deflect the bolts. She must instead rely on instinct and ability to dodge. It goes well for a bit, but she is already tired. Heat flares across the side of her ribs just as she spots her pilot’s dark dreadlocks and blue bandanna.

Merrin stumbles, but only for a moment. She catches herself on the end of her spear and growls as she guts the trooper that shot her. Then she is back tearing through the crowd until she lands panting at the pilot’s side.

“Ghost Girl!” exclaims the pilot. “We gotta go!”

Merrin grimaces at the nickname, but she can’t help the fact that due to her colouring and magick half the galaxy calls her something ghost related. She doesn’t bother responding to the obvious as she grabs hold of the pilot’s arm.

“Do you get sick easily?”

“What? What kind of a question is that?”

“Because I need to know you will be able to keep running when we land,” says Merrin.

“No, I usually have a stomach of iron.”

“Good.”

Merrin gathers the magick to herself. In her mind’s eye she pictures the inside of the temple they walked through to get here, the pilot’s ship with its odd little droid. She squeezes her hand tighter around the woman’s wrist, making sure her grip doesn’t falter. A blaster bolt whizzes past her head close enough to singe though her hair and burn her ear,  but Merrin hardly pays it any attention, instead concentrating on the spell.

“Sisters, mother, lend me your strength,” she whispers under her breath. She has not called upon them for much since leaving Dathomir, but now feels like as good a time as any to beg for their help.

Green magick swirls around Merrin, weaving between her and the pilot she intends to drag along with her. She has only done this with someone else once, and Cere had been sick for hours after. Merrin can only hope that the pilot takes it better. The Stormtroopers are closing in now that Merrin has stopped trying to stab them with her spear and they only have the pilot’s blaster to contend with. Then Merrin feels it, the spell is ready and within her grasp. Just as she unleashes it though two more rounds of blasterfire echo through the air. As Merrin disappears into the magick with her pilot she feels two bright bursts of pain.

Merrin rematerializes with a strangled scream. Her leg collapses beneath her, unable to bear her weight with the addition of a smoking hole through her thigh. Her shoulder throbs angrily as she hits the ground, letting her know where that second shot landed. At least they made it into the temple.

“Dank Farrik!” shouts the pilot as she lands on her hands and knees beside Merrin.

“My thoughts as well,” says Merrin with a groan.

The blaster holes are starting to burn with an all-encompassing flame. Even in the dim light Merrin can see the wetness spreading across the floor beneath her. She won’t be walking out of here, that much was certain. A glance at the pilot said that the woman is true to her word, she only appears rattled, not sick, though it is hard to tell in humans. She reaches out for the magick and feels it curling around her. Even just the process of reaching out to it is draining, and between the holes in her and the fight she knows she probably doesn’t have enough to get them to the ship.

“Oh Ghost Girl,” says the pilot with a low, sad voice. “Oh no.”

“It is not as bad as it looks,” says Merrin. They cannot afford to pause with worry here. The Stormtroopers will no doubt be searching the temple soon, if they aren’t already, and Merrin would not like to be here when they come across this hall.

“Well I’d say that if it’s even half as bad as it looks, we’re in a bit of an emergency situation.”

“And we were not before?”

“Stormtroopers? Nah, I can handle those any day. This? This is out of my realm of expertise,” says the pilot. “But I got a medkit and a ship that can get you to someone who can handle this. All you gotta do is stay alive long enough to get there.”

Merrin grins at her. She may be covered in her own blood and likely halfway to dying, but the pilot is funny, and more calm than anticipated. She should probably try to remember her name at some point.

It takes some maneuvering and swearing from the both of them but eventually the pilot gets Merrin out of the puddle of blood and to her feet and slings Merrin’s good arm over her shoulder. The position pulls at the graze on her side, but it is better than the alternative. Together they set off down the hall in the direction of the ship. Or rather the pilot sets off and Merrin does her best to keep herself on her feet as she’s dragged along.

Merrin hates feeling weak, but she cannot help herself while bleeding out. She must rely on her pilot to get her to safety. The walk through the temple becomes a haze of pain and darkness. At least they cannot hear the sounds of Stormtroopers behind them, but that doesn’t mean they can rest.

At last the ship comes into view. The thing is old and clunky compared to the Mantis but it is the best ship Merrin’s ever seen at the moment. The pilot helps her shuffle up the ramp and past the large, blocky droid and dumps her into the co-pilot seat. Merrin melts into the old leather and only feels slightly guilty about bleeding all over it. If the pilot didn’t want blood all over her cockpit she should’ve left her somewhere else. Distantly she registers that the ship is powering up, then rocking with movement yet it takes the blue of hyperspace outside the viewport for Merrin to realize they’re already in hyperspace and flying away from the Empire.

Then the pilot is looming over her, medkit in hand and far too close. Merrin starts, nearly sliding off the chair before collecting herself.

“Woah there,” says the pilot. “Just want to get you patched up before you decide to entirely repaint my cockpit.”

“Thanks,” Merrin mumbles.

The pilot crouches down and helps Merrin take off her jacket. The pain is excruciating and where Merrin would simply rip off the jacket as fast as she could or cut it off, the woman is slow and careful. By the time its off and in a heap on the floor Merrin is panting from the pain. Then there is the blissful coolness of bacta as the woman puts patches on her shoulder and thigh. Her side is fine without, and Merrin does not want the pilot to waste her entire medkit on her.

“There. That’ll hold you for now, but you really need some proper attention,” says the pilot as she leans back on her heels. “I have some friends who might be able to help you out, unless you already got somebody?”

Merrin weighs her options. She barely knows the pilot, she definitely doesn’t know or trust the woman’s friends. Yet can she betray Cere’s trust and lead this outsider to her newly founded base. It is a tough decision. What tips the scales is only the fact that Merrin is hurting and alone, and Cere is the closest thing she has to her sisters and all she wants right now is to be wrapped up in the safety of someone who understands.

“Cere,” says Merrin.

“Okay. Where do I find this Cere.”

Merrin bites her lip. “Jedha.”

“Jedha? Now that’s outta the way. Good choice for hiding.”

Merrin gives her the coordinates and the base’s comm channel. It feels like a betrayal, saying it all aloud, but at the same time it is a relief. She will see Cere soon. She closes her eyes and sinks into the seat. Beside her the pilot launches into some kind of story about ancient technology and a machine the size of a mountain. There are traps and diverging paths, and people that the pilot carefully does not name. Merrin lets it wash over her, drifting in and out. The story changes. Whether it’s the same one or different stories, she cannot tell. The trance breaks when she hears the tell-tale beeping of a ship comm.

“Hello? This is Phee Genoa, I’m looking for someone named Cere?”

“How did you get this comm channel.”

“Funny story, actually. Don’t have time to tell it at the moment. Got it from a girl. Grey, scary, ring any bells?”

“And what business do you have with Cere?”

“Well, see, my friend, the aforementioned girl, needs immediate medical attention and asked for her, so I’m just here to drop her off.”

“Very well, permission granted. These are the docking coordinates.”

“Received, thank you.”

There’s a beep, and the call ends. Merrin blinks her bleary eyes open to see the brown desert of Jedha looming through the viewport. Soon she will be at the base with Cere. She glances over at the pilot, Phee. Though she talks a lot, she seems like a good sort. Anti-Empire at least. She wonders if perhaps liberating ancient wonders could turn into liberating Force-sensitives from the threat of the Empire. She’d leave it to Cere to make a final decision, but maybe she will bring it up. Though it will have to wait until she is no longer bleeding like a stuck nydak.

[collard-dutchie]

Some epic bad batch playing cards I made during my digital design class…I was only required to make 10 but….c’mon…I can’t leave any members out…

This is the second half….

Anyway these started out as sketches and then I used image trace in adobe illustrator 👍 and that was kinda the extent of my knowledge of adobe illustrator 👍

:

[clonetrooperjournals]

I hope you are having a great day today! 😊 I am so obsessed with your two fics about stuttering. You portray everything so well! I was wondering if I could request something similar with Tech and someone who struggles with putting sentences together and having smooth conversations. Thank you so much if you feel like it!

Summary : You're a field medic working with the bad batch. while working on your field guide of medicinal herbs and plants you catch the eyes of the batch's resident genius. Pairings : Tech x Fem!reader (Field medic) Warnings : reader has a stutter, fluff, slight angst, cutie tech, happy ending, pre-order 66 (before echo) Words : 1.6k masterlist here A/N : Thank you so much for this request! I was actually half way through writing this when you requested! I hope you love it these stutter reader fics are my favourite to write!

“C-Can you h-help m-me p-please?”  

Tech looks up from his data pad to your burning cheeks and downward gaze with a small smile on his lips, “Of course.”  

You lead him over to a large tree with high branches that had small yellow flowers gently blowing in the breeze, “I-I n-need the... the...,” you point to the flowers.  

“The flowers. How many do you require?” he asks you gently.  

You look up at the tree thinking, “Um... F-Five should b-b-be g-good.”  

Tech throws his grappling hook over the thickest branch and then climbs up to grab a handful of the flowers. He'll never say it out loud, (but it is quite obvious to his brothers) that he enjoys helping you, and having you ask him for help. Even though you are very shy and have a rather hard stutter he finds it quite endearing and adorable.  

At first when you got assigned to Clone force 99 as their field medic, he found your stutter to be quite annoying, believing that you just lacked the mental capacity to form coherent speech, and he told you so. The boys chewed him out for that one telling him that it wasn’t your fault that you talk the way you do and that if he paid close attention, he would see how incredibly intelligent you are. He did pay attention after that, and he did find that you were in fact, incredibly smart.  

You were creating your own medicinal herb kit from the plants and flowers found on the planets they visited and writing a field book on all your findings and how to use them in an emergency. Tech then became intrigued by you and your work, apologizing for his first impression of you. You accepted his apology and told him that before you joined the GAR you were a herb healer on your home planet, and you wanted to expand and share your knowledge which is why you joined the army. It gave you the ability to treat people and being a field medic let you go to different planets and explore the flower and fauna for your medical research.  

Most people thought you were really weird, walking around with your large toolbox you used to collect samples, flowers braided in your hair and your shy stuttering demeanor, you couldn’t really blame them. The batch thought you fit in really well with their crazy dynamic saying they needed a quiet one that wasn’t brooding or grumpy like Hunter and Crosshair.  

The boys also noticed how since Tech has gotten closer to you, he has developed a crush on you. He's become more patient and understanding, always letting you speak without judging or would help you finish your thought. He helped you with your research and would seek you out for quiet company when his brothers were becoming too much. Hunter can sense that you two have feelings for each other and has tried to say this to Tech, but he doesn’t listen, saying it's impossible for someone as perfect as you to like him back.  

“Here you go. Is there anything else in this region that you require for your research?” Tech asks you while giving you the flowers.  

You shake your head, “N-no. J-Just these.” 

He looks at the yellow flowers in your hand, “and what medicinal properties do these flowers have?”  

“T-Thier called s-s-star f-flowers. W-When m-m-mashed into a p-p-paste, i-it can t-t-treat b-burns,” you explain with a smile.  

“Time to go you two!” Hunter yells from the ship. You gather up all your supplies and the two of you head back to the marauder. Once back inside you head to your bunk and lay out all your stuff to make the paste while Tech pilots the ship.  

Hunter and Crosshair sit in their bunks quietly watching you while you do your work. Your used to the boys coming and seeing what you're doing or offering to help. You put the flowers in a small bowl and grab your mashing tool, then mash the flowers until it looks like a bright yellow paste. You dip your finger in to make sure it’s the right consistency and then get up and walk over to Crosshair.  

He raises a brow at you confused as you grab his wrist pulling his blacks back revealing the burn that he was trying to hide from you and gently rub the yellow paste over the burn then wrap it up. If anyone else would have touched Crosshair without his permission, they would have a broken nose, but Crosshair knew you, and knew you did everything with pure innocent intentions.  

He scoffed avoiding your gaze, “no point trying to hide anything from you is there petals?” 

You giggle at the nickname, “t-that's r-r-right.”  

He shows you a rare smile and you pat his shoulder and head back to your bunk. You start to clean out your tool kit, reorganizing the mess you made while you were cataloging, while also sneakily peeking to see if Tech would come and join you. He usually found his way over to you eventually saying that he was the best person to assist you. You smile to yourself thinking about the adorable genius that you’ve come to love, sure he’s straightforward and brutally honest but you’ve come to admire those qualities in him, even if he offends you half the time you know he’s not doing on purpose, it’s just how his wonderful mind works.  

Hunter sees you smiling to yourself and chuckles, “You ever gonna confess to him or do we have to continue watching the two of you pine over each other?”  

Your eyes go wide and cheeks start to burn, “I-I d-don't know what... what y-y-ou're talking ab-bout.”  

“Sure you don’t,” Crosshair crosses his arms looking between you and the cockpit, “apparently the two smartest people on the ship are really the dumbest.” 

“Crosshair...” Hunter warns.  

Tech leaves the cockpit to join the three of you, “Oh! Did you need any assistance with your cataloging? I am momentarily free...”  

“S-Sure Tech.” Hunter grins at you heading to cockpit with Wrecker while Crosshair lies in his bunk looking at his bandaged wrist with a soft look.  

... 

Currently you and the batch were on Raydonia, a forested planet in the outer rim near Dathomir. Something was malfunctioning on the ship and Tech had to land so he could repair it before you all headed back to Kamino. You had heard about the trees on this planet that had blue glowing fruit, and you had to collect some. Tech and Wrecker were working on the ship while Hunter and Crosshair went to check out the settlement and you figured you could sneak away to collect some of the fruits before anyone realized you were gone. So, you grabbed your supplies and headed into the forest by the ship staying within view so you don't get lost.  

 You find a tall tree with large fruits that would be perfect for your studies. After trying to shake the fruits from the tree with no success you decided to climb it, thinking you could just slide down the tree afterwards. However, once you were in the tree with a handful of the fruits you realized that you couldn’t get down without dropping and squishing them and it was in this moment that Tech jogged over slightly frazzled. 

“What have we told you about going off on your own?”  

You blushed, “S-Sorry T-Tech... I w-was j-j-just...” 

He sighed, “yes you were trying to collect the fruit but next time inform one of us so that we can assist you and more importantly keep you safe.”  

“O-Okay.” You glanced down at Tech with a warm rosy cheeked smile, making his heart flutter. 

“Can I assist you?” he asks gently.  

You nod, “T-Take the... f-fruit p-p-please.” Then you throw the glowing fruit down, Tech catching them with ease. He puts them in your toolbox and turns back to you as you start to climb down the tree. Except what should be a simple slide down the tree doesn’t happen when instead, your foot gets caught on a lower branch and you fumble, falling hard and fast towards the ground. You close your eyes expecting a hard landing but instead you feel warm arms and hard plastoid envelope you as Tech catches you bridal style before you can hit the ground.  

“That was close.” He says looking you over to make sure you were okay. You were frozen in his arms blushing uncontrollably as Tech admires how beautiful you are. The red of your cheeks, the small pink flowers you braided into your hair, and your favourite coveralls that you hand embroidered with colourful flowers, you looked like a walking garden, kriff he was so in love with you.  

You put your feet down, but Tech doesn’t let you go still holding your arms, “T-Thank... you T-Tech.”  

“Forgive me but I have to speak my mind about something I-,” he brushes a stray hair behind your ear, “I have developed feelings for you.” 

 Your eyes widen in surprise, “w-what!?”  

“I-I’m quite in l-love with you...” he admits nervously, his cheeks just as bright as yours. 

You smile at him giggling, “y-you’re s-stuttering.” 

He laughs, “I-I am, aren’t I...”  

You put a hand on his cheek feeling the burning blush under your fingers, “I-I love... you t-t-too.” 

“May I... kiss you?” he asks timidly.  

Leaning in you feel his breath mix with yours, “y-yes please.”  

The kiss is gentle and shy just like the both of you, and as you pull away you see his eyes twinkle under his goggles.  

“Finally! I thought we’d have to wait at least another 200 rotations before they said anything.” 

Tech sighs, “Crosshair!” 

You laugh and grab his hand, “L-Lets go... f-finish the sh-ship.” 

He leans in and kisses your cheek, “Good idea my dear.”  

[ideas-4-stories]

Cross Guild romance AU -

Buggy makes his own explosives, which doesn't sound all that important until you sit back and think of the ramifications and knowledge required for that. Buggy is damn good with chemistry, math, physics, and I bet he was the brain to Shanks's brawn on the Oro Jackson; he'd probably have been all over Crocus whenever he could to learn more about anything and everything.

Crocodile and Mihaw don't really put the two together, given that they see Buggy primarily as an idiot and coward. It's when an epidemic spreads on the island that some odd things click into place-

Buggy has forgone the big costume, is in comfy and sturdy clothes. His face is painted minimally, hair tied into a tight bun, bandana on, and he's working side by side with the medical professionals. He's elbows deep in checking vitals, organizing charts, and even synthesizing medications. More members are sick than not, and they go under a near-quarantine lock down to handle the illness. Between working in the medical tents and taking care of his people, Buggy has also had a hand in organizing for resources to be sent and delivered.

Neither Croc nor Hawk had even considered some of the balls Buggy has gotten rolling. They both have very strong immune systems, so they rarely face or think of illness or sickness as something to prepare for or to account for, but this just exploded one day seemingly without warning, and the clown had a plan in motion by eevening.

It's at this point that they begin to wonder if maybe there's something more to their Chairman than they first thought...

((Bonus points, they catch Buggy coming back from a long shift at the medtent, sent off by the other's to get some rest, so he's just at that sweet spot of tired enough to lose filter. They ask about the medicines, and Buggy goes on a mini infodump about chemicals, hormones, enzymes, antioxidants and antibiotics, mentions that he and a few others already have a few batches baking, and sleepily chuckles about how "the simpler ones seem to work well so far, thank goodness. I was worried... *yawn* that I'd have to dip into my supplies for my testosterone... *falls asleep at the table*.

Croc just becomes the Spiderman meme of "TRANS???" when Buggy wakes up))

I LOVE this is an understatement, this is so good!!! I love Competent!Buggy so much!!! Why can't the clown be a fucking genius while being clown-failure babygirl he is?

Buggy having a plan by evening is because he has so much anxiety, I mean, look at the poor clown! It's always the things that he didn't think of that happens that gets him in trouble. But this, he can do this. I also love the headcanon, that Buggy learn a lot of things from Crocus, so he has this in the bag!

It would be funny if Buggy could be fine in a really bad pandemics, but the flu and whatever the happened near Laugh-Tale is his biggest sickness problems. What am I saying, back to this cool ask!

Buggy being competent because he doesn't want his crew to die or get really ill, not because he needs them to work, but because he wants them healthy and happy. Buggy forgoing the pillow onesie for something better, and not taking that much time on his makeup is so good, that just shows how he priorities his Nakama before himself is so cute! I have a headcanon that Buggy has a least a Field Medic degree or a Nurse one. Mihawk and Crocodile watching at the sidelines is what I see them doing, because like the clown's being competent and they see there's not much they can do in this.

Yes, on Buggy rambling on and on about things he does, I want Buggy to infodump so hard. Like really really hard, Buggy could go on and on about things that interests him for a while.

Buggy is every gender and nothing at all to me, and the spiderman meme with Crocodile is the only one pointing at Buggy while Buggy is confused and sleepy, while Mihawk is just there on the sidelines. Is really funny to me.

[happy-beeeps]

Grease Lightning

A @cloneficgiftexchange special for @bad-batch-pretty-boy !!!! SO sorry this is a day late I'm an idiot who had the 15th in my brain. I hope you love it!!! This was my first time writing a male reader, so I really hope I did it justice. Enjoy!

Pairing: m!reader x Fox

WC: 1.3k

Summary: As a speeder mechanic for the Senate staff, you've known Fox for a while. But when a difficult fix starts to put a strain on your holiday season, he comes in with the best gift of all.

CW: none :) slightly raunchy humor

Not to be cliche, but you’ve always hated the holidays.

It’s not for the same reasons as most others—you have fond memories of celebrating with loved ones, you’ve always enjoyed the spirit and the food. It’s simply the plain carelessness that comes in with the season.

Every year there’s a cluster of holidays—Life Day, Solstice, and a handful of others that blur together among the festive spirit. And every year, Coruscant drops the temperature for a few rotations, schedules snow, and people go crazy.

And when people go crazy, they wreck their speeders, Senate staff included.

Rushing through the shopping district trying to buy last minute gifts, cold batteries that cause speeders to freeze up in midair, even just gaper’s delay from all the ornamental light displays. Every Senator brings their families in from their home system if they haven’t returned, and nearly every Senator causes some kind of wreck. This of course means more work for you, chief mechanic of the Republic Senate.

You’ve always loved working with your hands, but never wanted the travel that a starship mechanic required. When a buddy from the academy mentioned the position, you jumped at the opportunity.

Of course, this means you’re now elbows deep in the shiny red speeder of a Senator from Pantora. Not to mention your other, much more pressing, project perched in the center of the garage.

As if on cue, Mas Amedda stalks in, hands clasped together. “How is the progress on Chancellor Palpatine’s senate pod?”

You sigh, rubbing your arm across your forehead. You’re certain there’s grease there now. “Same as yesterday Ambassador Amedda. The problem hasn’t been able to be resolved.”

“A shame,” he tuts, circling you slowly. You’ve always hated the feeling he gave you, like he was analyzing not just your work, but you. “We’d hate for his annual holiday speech to be delayed.”

“Yes, we would,” you grit out, “rest assured, I am working on it as best I can. Most of my staff went home for the holiday season, so I’m doing the best with what I can.”

“See to it that your best increases, you’ve been a great addition to the Senate team,” he smiles but it does not reach his eyes. “I’m sending an… ambassador of sorts to keep up to date on your progress. Consider him an extra set of hands.”

You hate the way your heart flutters when Fox strides in from the lift as Amedda leaves. You’ve met the man a handful of times, and you’re embarrassed to admit you like him. Sure, you like him, he’s easy to talk to and incredibly knowledgeable on all things Senatorial and Coruscanti. But no, you like him.

He’d taken his kriffing helmet off once, and the site of salt and peppered black hair and strong brown eyes had seared themselves in your brain forever. Not that you’d ever tell him this, of course.

“Hey…man.” You offer in way of a greeting. Why are you treating him like a buddy from the mech academy? This is unbearable.

“Hey yourself,” you can hear the ghost of a smile in his voice when he removes his helmet. “Sorry for,” he thumbs towards the direction of the elevator, “you know.”

You snort in response. “He’s a prick. I’m used to it.” You gesture to the Chancellor’s senate pod in front of you, “Here’s the cause of all my issues.”

He sucks in a sound through his teeth and bends down to take a look, “Would you believe me if I said I had no idea what was wrong with this? I don’t know shit about these things.”

“Aren’t you the commander of the Corries?”

“And?”

“Fair enough,” you unclip your light from your belt and point it into the inner workings of the machine, “Rotator busted. Can’t rotate, can’t generate enough power to hover smoothly. Needs a new belt which, of course, is out of stock for the Holidays.”

Fox laughs and kneels down beside you, “Kriff. Palpatine’ll chew my head off for this.”

“Your head?”

“Would you rather it be yours?”

You hold your hands up in a sign of surrender and Fox laughs, a hearty, warm sound that settles nicely between your ribs and rattles around in your chest. “Thanks for working on this any way. Nice to have a guy down here who knows what he’s doing.”

“I’m very capable,” you shrug, and only after the beat of silence do you catch the blush painted across Fox’s face. You cough after a moment too long, and Fox breaks the silence. “Well. Anything else I can do for you?”

You could grab my face, throw my against the side of this pod, and kiss me. “Nah, unless you happen to find a catalytic hover belt within the next day.”

“Then I leave it in your very capable hands.”

The next time you see Fox is two days later, and you don’t doubt that he’s been lying about Palpatine chewing his head off. You’ve gotten three reminders in two days that the Chancellor needs this pod to make his Life Day address. Jaya, the Twi’lek who works as your apprentice occasionally, had asked why he couldn’t use someone else's. Because he’s a prick didn’t feel like the right answer, so you had settled with a shrug.

It’s late when Fox arrives in the garage, holding a brown paper bag with the hallmark grease patterns of Dex’s on the front, and another box, wrapped in red and green.

“Is that a bantha burger?”

“Or what? I’m just happy to see you?”

You laugh, it’s the kind of joke your buddies would make, but because it’s Fox a flush streaks across your skin. 

“Here,” he passes you the red box, “Happy Life Day. Sort of.”

“Fox, I can’t, what?”

“Don’t mention it.”

“But–”

“Just open the kriffing box.”

Inside, wrapped in some kind of news flimsi you’ve seen in the lower levels, is a nearly pristine catalytic hover belt. The oil markings and slightly worn belt show that it might have been used, but you’re willing to overlook that. 

“How did you…”

He’s leaning against the side of a speeder, beaming. “One of my shinies knows a guy who hangs out at 79’s who knows a guy who owed him a favor who…finds things in speeders in the lower levels.

Stolen, figured. But it’ll play. “Fox, this shouldn’t be your responsibility. The Republic should be figuring this out.”

He shrugs, “Palpatine was getting irritated. I like having you around.”

“Still, the cost… at least let me pay you back, I’ll add it to my supplies bill.”

“Well,” he takes a step towards you, and you become suddenly aware of the fact that you probably smell like fuel, and that you haven’t shaved in a few days. “Kisses are great for appreciation.”

There’s a beat where you can see the genuine fear in his eyes, if he’s misread this whole situation, but no. You reach up and grab the plastoid around his chest and pull him towards you, capturing him in a kiss. He’s warm against your lips, and his breath tastes delightfully like burnt caf and fries, he’s snuck a few from the bag. He responds quickly, threading his fingers through your hair and pulling you close, and for a minute you kiss him like he’s the oxygen you breathe. 

When you finally pull away you rest your foreheads against each other, eyes screwed shut, too scared to chase the moment away. “But seriously, I’ll invoice the Republic.”

“Oh, I expect it. And then you owe me dinner.”

You laugh against his lips, mutter the word deal, and his lips are on you again. The best Life Day gift you could’ve asked for. 

[paul-the-delivery-guy]

Updated Hamster and Gretel episode speculation

I know I've done this several times, and I'm almost always wrong, but let's do another episode prediction blog.

“No Powers Day”

Originally titled "Gretel's Day Off," Gretel doesn't do any superhero work for a day. Maybe she's sick. Maybe she's just tired... Or, Picture this. Lauren is babysitting Gretel that day, and so the latter can't go and do any superhero work, otherwise Lauren might learn about Gretel's double life, which I really hope she does. Instead, it's down to Hamster to fight solo.”

“Everybody Loves Main Computer”

Something to do with Main Computer (Obviously) from the meteor episode. I believe we'll be getting some more information on Mordros the Annihilator. If my prediction of Lauren being let in on H&G comes true, then maybe this can be a continuation.

“Gretel Keeps it Reel”

The title was originally “Gretel Keeps it Real.” The phrase "Keep it real" means to be authentic and true to yourself, but in the new title, the spelling of "real” is “reel.” The word reel has several meanings. It can mean a revolvable object on which something is would, like a fishing line, or a film tape. It could also mean behaving in a violent or disorderly manner. Shoot, there are even dances called reels. A lot of possibilities for what the term means, but going by the beta title, I believe that Gretel will be tested in some way that requires her to stick to who she is as a person. How a reel fits into this, I don't really know

“Squeaky Friday” "Freaky Friday" plots involve two characters switching bodies. It typically happens after said characters have somel sort of falling out. The term "squeaky" suggests that Hamster may be one of the characters. I believe that Hamster and Gretel will have some sort of argument or falling out. Interestingly, @arendalphaeagle pointed out in a post on the fandom wiki, that there were a few clips in the January promo that weren't used in that batch of episodes. “No, my name comes first. It's in the title.” “You're more of a comic relief.” The two clips are played for comedy in the promo, but they could set up the narrative for H&G getting into a fight. Hamster feels overshadowed, and has to remind Gretel that he's her partner, not just a secondary hero, and Gretel seems to be getting a bit big-headed. There's also a clip I saw a while back of Meli recording for Gretel. She says something along the lines of "Dude, I literally carry you around in a baby carrier." Probably comes from the same episode. If this goes like Freaky Friday tropes usually do, H&G will somehow switch bodies and the two gain an understanding of the other.

“Gran Slam”

Originally titled "A Tale of Two Grannies,” I see this episode involving Abuelita and another character's grandmother competing against eachother. I think they did something like this in Phineas and Ferb with Jeremy's grandmother and the Flynn-Fletchers grandma.”

“The Art of Deception”

It's either an art-based villain who's very deceitful, or, someone's on the brink of learning H&G's secret identity, and the heroes have to cover their tracks. (I'm thinking of the Hiromi and Mrs. Knight debacle). I also think it's important to point out that The Art of Deception" is also the title of a book about social engineering.

“Miss Direct”

Miss Direct, likely the bad guy's (excuse me, bad gal's) name. Maybe a villain who gives out terrible advice. lol. I've got nothing better.

“Trading Faces”

"I have no real knowledge of the show" "Kim Possible," But while doing a search for the term "trading faces," I discovered that this was an episode title in the aforementioned show (apparently, the same is true for Jimmy Neutron). Anyways, based on the wiki page for the Kim Possible episode, there's a villain who can take on the appearance of any character she wants and commits crimes under the victim's name. This suggests to me that the Impostor villain is coming back. My prediction, The Impostor takes on Gretel’s appearance and does bad things. Just like the Belle episode, this casts doubt on Gretel’s reputation.”

"Who's Afraid of Mordros the Annihilator”

Oh boy. I think it's a bit too early to try and predict the finale. Besides the obvious fact that this is the final battle, some things I expect by the end of the season/series is that this will be the episode in which Kevin and Hiromi finally start dating, Kevin will be the guy who saves the day, and Lauren will play a key role smehow. I'm preparing a whole post on this episode alone. Stay tuned.

[crying-fantasies]

Retrospective

Masterlist

Maybe it started as curiosity, in the way you look like him or in the way you look scared of him to some point, well, scared for him, concerned by his wellbeing while you call him "idiot" when Ratchet has to fix his arm again.

"What is the big idea? You could get killed" there is anger more than anything in your voice, he didn't even care before but now you are the one putting your little hands on the deep dent on his side to take debris out of the harder places.

How forward!

Maybe Ironhide was right, Sideswipe will never say it in front of him, maybe you really are a human of science! and that could explain your interest in how to heal or patch wounds of the battle, or your interest in different mixes of energon, or your peculiar (almost evil) laugh while reading translated datapads.

Now, if it were any human he would think how stupid there were to try and understand cybertronian technology or try to adapt to it, but you and the other humans coming and going in the ark were trying to read glyphs, you were trying to understand their culture.

You were quite the strange one, and he was getting worried by the time you gave to your "human studies" and the time for your "alien studies", Sideswipe told you that calling them aliens was rude and you gave him a whole presentation of how you were right and he still doesn't get what power can get a point.

"So, how it goes?"

"We are both alien species to one another and it's fine"

"Good, there is nothing wrong in calling me or you alien, because is at some point correct"

"I still don't like it!" You weren't happy but you let him have it.

An you were strange, even for humans, any other human would've turned away from them when the chance was there, you latched onto Ratchet and Wheeljack in your seemingly neverending desire to get information that led you to an explosion, surprisingly Wheeljack wasn't there and it wasn't his deal, you were knocked out and there was energon everywhere when Sideswipe looked for you, turns out, you wanted to make energon goodies, snacks, candy, and your first good batch was given to him, it wasn't exactly good or bad, but it was the most flavored thing he got since the beginning of the war and he was grateful for it after years of almost tasteless but survival required basic energon.

Your knowledge was power, maybe not a physical one like his, one that made you pinpoint different things on his own performance, in the way he was fighting, and while he didn't like the comments he was still happy to show off in front of you while punching a Decepticon in the faceplate, you're all worked up giving him, supposed, praises with your little arms moving around, "-Behind you! there is another one, stop smiling like a dope and LOOK BEHIND-!!"

Maybe it was the kick at the back of his helm or the way you were concerned about him, your precious notes flying around because you didn't close your little bag, almost falling down ungracefully to get to him when his brother finally appeared to give him a servo, but since that moment Sideswipe started to see you different even when you were spouting quite colorful words.

Sunstreaker laughed at him, but, for once, he didn't care.

He was way more focused when you, once again, took the matter on your hands while Ratchet guided you to repair the little crack on his helm.

"I'm fine with little things on the arms or legs, the head is way more delicate!" Did it hurt him your refusal? It did, because you were doubting your abilities, and Ratch was there! So he was super confident when he told you: "Come on! Doc on the building!" And let your hands roam around one of his most delicate circuits.

You almost failed midway, letting Ratchet end the repair, still, you took Sideswipe servo on your little hands, or it was most accurate to say he had your hands on his servo? You were deeply sorry, more than what you should feel, even if you only said it once, but he was grateful for your intention and how you stayed with him for the few minutes it took to repair him.

It didn't hit him as fast as that decepticon, but during the night cycle he was still thinking of your little hands, soft and warm, you were probably recharging, sleeping, already, and in all honesty, Sideswipe felt stupid for thinking about that so late.

Then, while searching for the things he, purposely, hided from you to get your attention, you let out a "I didn't think this would happen even outside of there" you were sad, Sideswipe didn't need to be the brightest bulb to notice it, and when he asked you he didn't really thought you would answer giving how skittish you were with your own life out of the Ark.

Your words stung deep, and he just let you rant, all you wanted to say to feel lighter was good even when he felt fury on his own spark, he only kept you seated on him, surrounding you with his arms, letting you take rest on his frame, you didn't cry and he was grateful, he didn't know how he could answer with you cries and the guilt of hiding your things, of course, he didn't know, but he had already put so many things everywhere, telling you about the exact places would be way too evident and he didn't want you anger pointed to him, even if for him it was a joke, a way to get you out of the endless books and information that you devoured.

If he wanted to take you car racing you said: "Not now, I really need to finish this"

If he wanted to talk you would say: "Sorry, I'm pointing the most important parts" while you were painting all your book with that marker.

If he wanted to even have a moment with you: "I can't, I need to submit this before the deadline" he was mad at you, at the fragged computer for taking your attention away and almost making you faint of exhaustion.

Sideswipe has seen humans more than once now that he is on Earth, and in comparison it's obvious to say you don't look healthy, so he continued to hide your things, now only the ones you said were from school, just so you could get to recharge while he "searched" or to spend more time with you perched on his shoulder armor.

He wasn't exactly deep on it, before he noticed the way you always found your way to him, and he asked himself if this was how everybot had a human companion, he rubbed it on Sunstreaker's face more than once while he prompted Sideswipe to clean himself because the human left fingertips on you, gross.

Movie and game nights came along, whatever was dragging your energy away over for a moment and he was oh so grateful, learning about monopoly made his helm hurt but he basked in your voice explaining the neverending rules, movies were his favorites so far, some got really good explosions and stories, you called him "action movies simp" or whatever, but one day you looked way too happy while showing him a movie with very heavy atmosphere, not in a bad way like the scary ones, it was most like "Why are those two humans so near?" He didn't get the real deal so fast, on why humans had their intakes, mouths, pressed so hard, and he asked if they were fighting, you laughed.

"It's a kiss"

Maybe Sideswipe should had asked you? frag, maybe even ask Jazz or even Ratchet before entering human internet and falling down a hole of human sentimentalism and depravation.

A kiss, he noticed from his investigation, is a very human thing to express love or sexual arousal, even both, and that was so alien as it was strangely hot, he wanted to try, like the people on your movies, who kissed after a long time separated or after surviving an apocalypse, he looked at you, figuring out how to ask, it was better to ask a human who may have the information for it, and you seemed to know everything!

"A kiss? No, nothing of that!" You were red, like the color of your blood, like the colour of his armor, and, deep down, that you didn't know about kisses was in some way something that made his energon lines hotter and he was more than sure his faceplate had the color of energon.

Then, the next thing came, marriage, humans has something similar to conjunx ritual and he was flabbergasted for a second.

"It's not so different" you said after hearing his very lacking explanation and writing down on a notepad you had near, Sideswipe had you cushioned on his neck cables with your blankets around, he was near to recharge while resting on his back, "so holding hands or hugging, been very physical is the start, then you are really sincere, and you gift things to finally seal the deal" you laughed and he smiled by the sound, "you bots are really fast, we start dating or living with one another before going to marriage"

Your conjunx ritual was called marriage, what a funny word, Sideswipe recharged on the floor with you at his side, having a servo over you.

"You two are pretty much always together" some bot said, and it was in that moment that it hit him, almost several days later, when he noticed that, hey, they were right.

You two were always together like a pair of junxies, Sideswipe laughed, how ridiculous was that! It was impossible in every way! Even when your hands have been on his a lot, or when you talked to him about your most deep secrets or...

...

Sweet Primus-

No, no, no, he needed a moment to think, it was impossible, you weren't even aware, how was it possible? It was utterly impossible for a human to be approaching him in such a way-

"It's a paper crane, I bought the paint because it reminded me of you and I made and folded it myself, making paper isn't so hard when you know how-" your explanation went on and on, and Sideswipe would've been happy to hear you till the end if his processor wasn't burning already.

Like, holy frag, no, HOLY FRAG.

What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say? You look at him expectantly, waiting for an answer, and he needed to think this well, in what he was getting himself into while his spark pulsed so hard, so wild, not even his best battle so far made him feel this way and oh Primus his cooling fans are overworking and his frame is heating, what is he going to do? Where is Sunstreaker to help him?

"I like it"

Where is Sunstreaker to slap some sense on his processor? Primus damnit, that response was awful and lame.

But, lame as it was, it made you smile.

Maybe it really wasn't part of conjunx ritual, frag, it never was, by he knew that humans don't get married from the get go, they wait, they "nurture" feelings, and he did his own part, it took him cycles on end and way too many failed attempts, but he felt prideful when his digits managed to create something for you.

Just to have his brother destroy it in front of him.

Sideswipe gets it, Sunstreaker is worried for him on his very own shitty way, it still doesn't make him less angry but maybe grateful for seeing the paper crane in one piece, it's a gift, one he wants to keep closer and safe, made from scratch, something you did with him on mind.

He'll talk with Sunstreaker, he knows where he is getting and, while it wasn't unheard of spark split brothers to share a same conjunx it certainly was no record of a cybertronian and a human, let alone two, but Sunstreaker can still find love, Sideswipe has faith on his brother (as in a joke because he, as his twin, can hardly put up with his narcissist tendencies), they don't have to share everything because he knows Sunny doesn't feel like that with you, so he has been sure to keep his feelings to himself, not using the spark bond they share as brothers and keeping all his outbursts to himself, he could stay here with you, have something in a possible future.

One that maybe will never be, because Sideswipe waits for you, a new hair clipper on his servo, this time more colorful, drops of paint seem to be an expression of art he still doesn't exactly get, waiting for you to come along the next cycle, or the next after that, or some other one.

But you aren't there.

When he knows why, Optimus himself has to stop them from tearing one another apart, and convince Sideswipe that you are probably fine.

From that, it has been an earth week.

Your little pedes, feet, get off him, taking you to the store he just parked in front of, Sideswipe now knows the address and even the postal code of this place, it's apparently your favorite to get little things made of dead plants.

"It's cheap and good" and by the amount of things you used on a daily basis he understood your need to be frugal, he still didn't get how great little sticky colorful papers were, but you beamed in relief when you got those, your usual tired face plate, face, had a breath of life returned, and he felt your enthusiasm while you showed him your usual sticky notes, this time with the form of stars.

Stars don't look like that, but he'll shut his mouth in order to let you have this moment of happiness.

"It's limited edition, can you believe it?"

"Looks good!"

"Sides?"

If Sideswipe had been driving he would've stopped cold dead on his way, you were still unaware of his brothers voice on his internal comm link while you are now talking to him about a new book.

"Sunny! You're up early, where's the fire?"

"Where are you now?"

Aw man, he really thought he had more time, recently Sunstreaker saw in human television about "Beauty naps" and was trying it, Sideswipe took that like an advantage and got to see you, picking you up from your education facility, at first you turned him down, but then again, you wouldn't have to pay public transportation.

It was a blessing, he almost lost you when Sunny was cold enough to try to make him be a bad guy, but he got to see you, every single day, and maybe it was too much to you, Sideswipe does confess that hunting you down town on his alt mode was less than ideal with all and your screaming, someone even called the police on him, but he got you inside his cab with such a good move he wished it was recorded, he wanted to talk to you, know why you simply just disappeared for so long without saying something! Not even leaving a sticky note in form of a kitty with information of your whereabouts!

Do you know how big boss Optimus is worried about you? Or Ironhide? Tracks? Everyone? Him?! Have you thought about his poor spark before just going MIA?!

Apparently that was enough to have you look at him with anger, one that made him stop completely, Sideswipe has seen you angry before and has been victim of your silent treatment more than once, like that time when you got a bad grade or when he accidentally ripped off one of your books.

This was different, and he could say you were fearless when you called him a "fragging liar, scrap of the world, son of a glitch, I believed in you!"

Yeah, Ratchet told him and Sunstreaker to don't say bad words in front of the humans, but not even in his wildest dreams did he thought of such colorful words getting out of your normally sweet mouth, nor the obvious hatred your eyes were shooting at him.

For a moment, Sideswipe could feel cold and terrible despair.

You shouted, he tried to placate you, you started to cry in silence and that was way worse than your loud fury.

"I told you about it and you told everyone, right?"

"Look, I need you to listen to me for-"

You hit him.

You slapped his servo away when he tried to touch get you near.

And it almost makes him say sorry to you even when it wasn't his fault.

Sideswipe has never seen you cry, not like this, and he doesn't know what to do because he has never cried, not even when his life was shit on his town of origin, not even when Sunstreaker almost left him to go to Earth or when everyone else just thought his brother was better.

But he felt way to near to tear up when you touched your hand in pain, recently noticing the results of your action, it was bounded to hurt since he was made from living metal, you were crying, you were in pain, and that almost made him cry with you.

"It wasn't me" he starts, maybe looking and feeling worst than he really is, you are crying and he doesn't want to cave in on the fear of you walking away to never be seen again because he knows that, in case you really tell him so, he will do it, he'll never go out looking for you again if that's what you want and that scares him so much because he still wants to be at your side, "I swear, I never told anyone, it's just me and you"

Me and you, those words holding more feelings that you could've ever imagined at the moment he said it.

Sideswipe doesn't want to, out of camaraderie or whatever, but he tells you the truth, and now you have a resentful tone and angry expression when the name of his brother is mentioned.

"It's a relief" you said later while, on your own volution, taking place on his driver seat, your little hands on his interior, a smile that took his worries away, "I thought I lost a friend"

It hurt to some degree, yeah, he knew, Sunny has been very adamant on what he said before, he is only a friend for you.

But that can change, he has been watching human culture with the older bots, he was getting real information on human paring process with human TV.

Humans startr as friends and then goes a they were roommates and then a human wedding.

It's an objective on mind and while Sideswipe isn't know for his patience, which is killing him, he is trying to take a little longer to give you the hair clip.

But not even all his patience can prepare him for the force of his brother.

And Sunny is so going to beat him.

"Sideswipe you are with the fleshy, aren't you?"

"I mean" he finally answers, you look so happy with the things on your bag, "we went out to buy some... Rations?"

Sunstreaker laughed, dry and angry, "So I'm here working, with one human on my cab and you go on a date-"

"It ain't a date! And what do you mean you've a human?" Sunny wouldn't let a human enter his cab and no human in base would get in his cab voluntarily, not without an order from boss bot, that only meant something was happening and that made Sideswipe accelerate without even realizing it, straightening your seat and security belt, "Sunny, where are you?"

"Oh well, since you abandoned me I'm moving one of the humans when it's supposed to be your work, and it sucks, do you have any idea how-?!"

There is an explosion, and Sideswipe can't hear his brother, he can't feel him for a dreadful second that prolonged way too long, you have to hold to his steering wheel to prevent an impact while asking him what's wrong, for once Sideswipe doesn't answer you before getting all his energon and burn it to reach the base faster.

Sideswipe has always been prideful on making you see all his good, show you that he is almost invincible even when he is being trashed by his enemy, still getting on his pedes by himself and flashing you a smile, maybe leaking a bit of energon from a nasty dent, but still the strongest bot you'll ever see.

When he let's you see his broken image when others tell him: "Sunstreaker didn't make it" in the worst day of his life, you only take seat next to him, he is so quiet in the now so big habsuit he shared with his brother, for some reason he has his chest open and, for the first time, you see his spark, you ask him what's he doing, he doesn't say a word, and you let him have this, maybe is a way to mourn the dead, and while Sunstreaker wasn't your favorite bot at the moment, you were with Sideswipe in this.

It almost made you jump from the scare of his movements when, two days later, he moves from his seated position, shouting as if he is fighting someone, then he shouts again, Sideswipe looks at you, then he raises you above a few meters, a happy grin on his face, "He is alive! He is fragging alive!"

You don't even have a moment to ask a "what?" when he kissed a side of your head and leave you there, saying something about returning with his brother and Hunter by dinner time while you see him change to his alt-mode in a hurry, burning wheels on his way.

He takes 5 days in reality, he ends up dragging back a pretty injured Sunstreaker and all your anger goes down the drain when you see the bot like that, Hunter is nowhere to be seen but he appears later on, or that's what you believe at first while Sideswipe apparently expects you to praise him and his stupidity to go head first into danger, again.

"Did I surprise you?"

"Why didn't you call for backup?"

He laughed at your angry tone, he was leaking energon, bullet holes on his armor, you don't have to ask to know it was a human's doing, he is missing an optic and you would be so much erratic if you didn't know he could get another one.

Sideswipe gets on your level, extending a servo out for you, there is a hair clipper there, "Here, for you" maybe he wanted to tell you something, but Ratchet is already dragging him away to receive treatment, you don't know why so many bots go there or why they also take Hunter.

You don't ask, and that was your mistake.

Sideswipe's repairs took way less time than Sunstreaker's, who was angrier than usual while his brother was flexing his good as new arms in front of you both, Sideswipe had this strange habit of putting you near Sunstreaker, telling you to call him Sunny just like him, and that was scary on it's own way because you understand that the golden mech doesn't want to do shit with humans around for the time being or forever, no one explains, and you should have asked.

[fuckyeahfightlock]

Punk Rock Cool Kid Required Viewing Batch 1 The Punk Rock Movie Eraserhead Rock 'n' Roll High School

(I'm rewatching all the "required viewing" films of my alterna-teen years) Notes on these three films below the cut.

The Punk Rock Movie (1978, dir. Don Letts)

For three months in 1977, The Roxy nightclub was created for the express purpose of booking punk bands, who could not play anywhere else in London. DJ Don Letts started filming bands onstage and backstage, on a super 8 camera. The result is The Punk Rock Movie, a pure documentary film (no narrative, no narration) of a fingersnap moment in time.

The bad news is that this film (to my knowledge) has never been remastered either visually or for sound. Its specific, super-8 look serves it well and I don't know that it needs to be sharpened, but the sound is pure garbage. There are a few snippets of people talking but my 50+ year-old ears cannot make it out, due to low quality and background noise (guitars, other voices. . .in other words, nightclub noises). It's not a huge loss since 97% of the film is music, but I did wonder what Siouxsie & the Banshees were joking about as they took pill after pill after pill, or what a cool girl with a Union Jack shaved and dyed into the crown of her head (in 1977? that would have been so difficult!) had to say, or the thoughts of those ripped-from-the-headlines Shop Girls Sacked For Being Punk.

The live bands do not fare much better, but it's punk rock. A few of the performances are electrifying, most are so-so. Personally, after the opening "White Riot" by the Clash, I might recommend a casual viewer skip through to the last 20 minutes of the film, where we get fantastic versions of "Carcass" by Siouxsie & the Banshees, and "Oh, Bondage! Up Yours!" by X-Ray Spex, followed by the only bit not filmed at The Roxy, a short set by the Sex Pistols on the first night Sid Vicious ever played live with them, at Screen on the Green.

~*~*~Let's stop by Hyperbole Corner where I will assert the following: Johnny Rotten was the only real punk. Maybe it's his wild eyes, maybe it's his necktie. People later thought the Sex Pistols "selling out" represented the end of punk, but watch Johnny onstage and see if you don't agree with me. Hyperbole corner over.~*~*~

This film is not the most enjoyable to watch because of its low quality; even if you are an old punk and love punk music, it's kind of an endurance test. That said, if you are curious about the subculture, this is probably the purest, least polluted view of it; a person could learn a lot.

High- and lowlights include: Slaughter and the Dogs (inspiration for the Smiths), lingering shots of Johnny Thunders & the Heartbreakers shooting up heroin, Generation X (baby Billy Idol), someone cutting their torso with a razor about 50 times, The Slits (Ari Up was either autistic or had untreated ADHD or both; that girl was WILD), punk kids pogoing/slam dancing, cops dismantling and confiscating the window display at BOY boutique, Wayne (now Jayne) County and the Electric Chairs.

Definitely worth a watch if you want to see the real 1970s London punks, but probably not enjoyable for the casual viewer because of the quality (it's punk!).

Eraserhead (1977, dir. David Lynch)

Speaking of endurance tests, I'll confess up front I have zero intention of rewatching Eraserhead. I hated it then, I know I would hate it now, and it's one of those films I somehow have seen multiple times even though I hate it.

David Lynch is not for me--I looked through his entire filmography and did not find one movie of his I enjoyed--not even The Elephant Man, not even Twin Peaks. And I've seen a lot of his films! I just think surrealist films don't speak to me. Surrealist comedy, sure. Surrealist visual art, OK. But this is a No from me, dawg.

People I knew always cringed and shivered about the Radiator Lady, but that incessant worm-baby crying. . .I know the film is purposely designed to be uncomfortable, but jumping jayzis on the cross, that noise is irritating. And now that I've parented colicky infants. . .definitely No Thank.

I was doing my damnedest to be a certified cool kid, but I don't think I even pretended to like Eraserhead in 1987. It's just not for me.

Rock 'n Roll High School (1979, dir. Alan Arkush)

1970s teen comedies are always going to be pretty much the same thing: kids trying to lose their virginity, warring cliques, a borderline fascist principal, and casual racism/sexism (PS, where are the brown people?). So there are a few things to forgive here: a ticket scalper dressed in full Native American headdress (get it? "scalper"?); two hall monitors who shriek "body search!" at teen girls who later emerge from the office with disheveled hair and clothing (but otherwise seem fine, maybe mildly annoyed). But really. . .it could be a lot worse. I've seen a lot worse! I found it interesting that nobody swears in the film--not even a hell or damn--and while nubile young (female) bodies are somewhat on display in gym uniforms with tight tank tops and no bras, no one even references any body parts. The girls in gym class are only there for themselves--there aren't boys around and the girls are just dancing and singing "Rock 'n' Roll High School"--it's cute! Even in scenes about teens trying to get laid no one says "tits". Overall the film is oddly kind of innocent.

The main plot is that a girl has written songs she wants to pass along to her favourite band, The Ramones. Let me tell you that PJ Soles as "I'm Riff Randell, and I'm a rock-n-roller!" is the most adorable, likable teen girl I've ever seen in ANY teen movie.

She's zero-angst, bursting with confidence, witty, mischievous and not mean. . .this girl just wants to have fun! Riff somehow buys 100 tickets to a Ramones concert with $1000 she just happens to have (in 1979?! that's like a billion dollars now!), only to have them confiscated by the mean principal, Ms Togar. Zany antics and many, many Ramones songs/performances proliferate.

Riff's clothes and hair are New Wave style that made my inner child so jealous. She has a good friend who's a nerd but also praised as the most desirable girl in school.

PJ Soles is also perhaps history's greatest actress, as she swoons and even gets a little sexed up over cute and dreamy teen idol Jooooeeeeey Ramooooone--then cut to a literal monster. 6'6" tall with terrible teeth and possible albinism, Joey was the least attractive Ramone (not that any of them were very good looking--gun to my head, Dee Dee). The scene of Joey serenading Riff in her teenage bedroom has to be seen to be believed. That poor girl. Guess it goes to show you that when a guy's in a band, there's magic that makes girls love him even when he looks like Joey Ramone (RIP).

The Ramones concert the kids attend features an actual live performance by the Ramones. Unmatched energy, those fast/short/singable songs. . .Gabba Gabba Hey!

~*~*~Here in Hyperbole Corner we assert "Blitzkrieg Bop" is hands-down the greatest American punk song. We will not be taking questions at this time. Hey! Ho! Let's Go! Hyperbole Corner over.~*~*~

This movie has kids taking over the high school, every archetypal high school character (except a gay kid, or as I stated earlier, any brown ones), a food fight, the sexiest conversion van you have EVER. SEEN., and so much great music--mostly, but not all, by the Ramones. A fun watch if you look past the clunky stuff.

[phoebesmith905]

The Invisible Trap in Unpaid Internships that Use Workers Unfairly

You work hard. You study late into the night. You ace your exams. And then... you enter the job market.

Your heart drops.

The pressure is on. Everyone tells you experience is key. But how do you get experience when no one hires without it? That’s when you stumble upon unpaid internships. They promise hands-on learning, industry exposure, and networking opportunities. But here’s the catch—many of them are exploitative unpaid internships that take advantage of young workers.

So, why do so many students end up in this trap? A big reason is the lack of education about the job market. Schools teach equations and essays, but they rarely prepare students for real-world employment. Without guidance, students fall for misleading opportunities that leave them overworked and underappreciated.

The Problem: Schools Don’t Teach Job Market Basics

Imagine spending years in school without ever learning how to write a strong resume, negotiate a salary, or identify a fair job offer. That’s the reality for most students. High schools and colleges focus on academic skills but rarely explain how different industries work, what jobs pay, or what rights employees have.

Without this knowledge, students graduate into a world they don’t understand. Many assume unpaid internships are their only way in. They don’t realize some internships break labor laws. They don’t know that real entry-level jobs should pay. They don’t question why a company “can’t afford” to pay interns but still makes profits.

The Trap of Unpaid Internships

Some unpaid internships are genuinely educational. But many are just free labor. Students handle tasks that regular employees would get paid for—writing reports, making presentations, managing social media. They clock in, work full days, and leave exhausted, yet they earn nothing.

The worst part? Many don’t lead to jobs. A lot of companies hire a new batch of unpaid interns every few months, keeping their labor costs low. Students get stuck in a cycle of working for free, hoping for a paid role that never comes.

Why Students Take These Internships Anyway

So why do they accept these roles? Because they think they have no choice.

Fear of falling behind – Everyone else seems to be gaining experience. You don’t want to be left out.

Pressure from universities – Some schools require internships to graduate but don’t check if they’re fair.

False promises – Companies say it will “lead to something bigger.” But often, it doesn’t.

Lack of knowledge – Many don’t know unpaid work isn’t always legal.

What Needs to Change

Students deserve better. Here’s how we fix the problem:

Job Market Education in SchoolsSchools should teach students about workers’ rights, fair pay, and job search skills. They should help students understand what a good job offer looks like.

Stronger Internship RegulationsGovernments should crack down on companies that use unpaid interns as free labor. If an intern is doing real work, they should get real pay.

Universities Must Do MoreColleges should ensure the internships they promote are fair. No school should push students into unpaid work without clear warnings.

Students Need to Push BackIf an internship offers no pay and little learning, students should speak up. Social media and job review sites give workers a voice. The more people expose bad internships, the harder it becomes for companies to exploit students.

Final Thoughts

Lack of job market education forces students into exploitative unpaid internships. They don’t know their rights. They don’t know they deserve better. And because of that, companies take advantage.

It’s time to change that. Schools need to step up. Laws need to be stricter. And students need to know their worth. Because free labor isn’t an opportunity. It’s exploitation.

[wolveria]

7 and 13 for the fic ask meme!

7. Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

I love the italics lol J'accuse!

I was going to say no, but I did! And one of them I won't link here because it's dubious af

The other "new" ship would be The Bad Batch x reader fic that I'm quite proud of

And I do have this fic that's just an excuse for all of us to monster fuck. No knowledge of SCPs required

13. What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

Longest goes to The Raven's Hymn, and the shortest is my naughty fic that is on my AO3 that I'm not linking here loool

2024 Writing Ask Game

[mariana-oconnor]

The Golden Pince-Nez pt 3

Last time I came to the decision - entirely logically and data-driven and not at all because he made an incredibly rude comment about one of his servants - that The Professor was a hack, his life's work is founded on a lie and he either commited or is complicit in the murder of Willoughby Smith.

I also came to the conclusion that he smokes too many cigarettes. (1000 a fortnight, you know over a year that's 26,000? And he's getting them imported from Alexandria? Guy has a problem.)

Stanley Hopkins had gone down to the village to look into some rumours of a strange woman who had been seen by some children on the Chatham Road the previous morning.

Was she stumbling around blindly, because I feel like with the prescription Holmes described, she's going to find it very difficult to get around on her own without her glasses.

I had never known him handle a case in such a half-hearted fashion.

Let's play: Is Sherlock bored, or does he dislike the conclusion to this story?

Even the news brought back by Hopkins that he had found the children and that they had undoubtedly seen a woman exactly corresponding with Holmes's description, and wearing either spectacles or eye-glasses, failed to rouse any sign of keen interest.

So she definitely exists and has been in the area. But Holmes doesn't seem to care about that, possibly because he already knows it must be the case and therefore this is of little concern.

He was more attentive when Susan, who waited upon us at lunch, volunteered the information that she believed Mr. Smith had been out for a walk yesterday morning, and that he had only returned half an hour before the tragedy occurred.

Man goes for walk. Vitally important information. It means that things may have occurred in the house without his knowledge, or that he might have been involved in something on his walk without anyone else's knowledge, such as meeting up with our lady with bad eyesight.

He was, indeed, a weird figure as he turned his white mane and his glowing eyes towards us.

Why are his eyes glowing? Eyes are not supposed to glow, Watson. Does he have tapetum lucidum? Is he a werewolf? Is he a demon? Has he finally smoked enough cigarettes that he has merged with the cigarette and now he is literally smoking?

Holmes stretched out his hand at the same moment, and between them they tipped the box over the edge.

Second recorded incident of Holmes knocking things off tables like a cat.

I don't know what the cigarettes have to do with all this. I feel like it's going to be obvious. The only idea I can have is that he's part of some sort of artefact smuggling ring and every two weeks he gets a massive batch of 1000 cigarettes but hidden in the package are antiques. But why would that affect his appetite? And clearly he is getting all 1000 cigarettes because he's smoking all day and night. And why would that require Holmes to smoke like fifty in a go before?

So there must be something in the cigarettes? Are the rolling papers money? Are the rolling papers ancient documents? But then he smokes them, so that makes no sense either.

“Yes,” said he, “I have solved it.” Stanley Hopkins and I stared in amazement. Something like a sneer quivered over the gaunt features of the old Professor. “Indeed! In the garden?” “No, here.” “Here! When?” “This instant.”

You solved it by knocking some cigarettes off the table?

^Holmes and the Professor, probably

I mean, obviously he has connected the dots, he's Sherlock Holmes and he is controlled by the almighty god-writer of his universe who's feeding him all the lines. But still. What can you work out from knocking cigarettes off a table? Did they fall wrong? Or was there something on the bottom of the box?

“A lady yesterday entered your study. She came with the intention of possessing herself of certain documents which were in your bureau. She had a key of her own."

So far, so not what I thought... this is not in keeping with my thoughts that the Professor dunnit.

UNLESS she was looking for evidence that he was a fraud and had previously talked to Willoughby about it, then when he refused to help her - loyal to his employer as he was - she took matters into her own hands.

Her possession of the key intimates that she has at one time had access to this desk. She's one of the previous secretaries that was let go for creative differences. Creative differences that were The Professor being a fraud, obviously (I refuse to believe this man has any academic ethics).

SO using the key that she kept after the termination of her old employment, she snuck in using her knowledge of the household and its schedule. The Professor came upon her and killed her, but knocked her pince-nez off and under the desk as he did so. No clue what he did with the body... put it in a crate of cigarettes?

THEN Willoughby comes back and asks if she came to see the professor, enquires about the allegations she made. The Professor says 'Oh no, dear boy. She hasn't been to see me, and she was a vary fanciful girl. You know what women are like.' Because he's a terrible person.

Then Willoughby finds the pince-nez, recognises them from his previous meeting with the lady and just as he's putting it all together STAB in the neck from the professor, but this time there isn't time to hide the body, the maid, Susan, is already there. the Professor hotfoots it away and leaves Willoughby there, forgetting all about the pince-nez still clutched in his rapidly cooling hand.

There are still some holes, and the cigarettes still make no sense and we have no body, so habeas corpus isn't exactly satisfied. We habeas pince-nez instead.

I could just read the story and find out, I guess.

I really want the professor to be a fraud. I want him to be totally discredited and disgraced. I want it so bad, you guys.

The Professor blew a cloud from his lips. “This is most interesting and instructive,” said he. “Have you no more to add? Surely, having traced this lady so far, you can also say what has become of her.”

This might seem like he genuinely doesn't know what's going on, because he doesn't seem worried. Or, per my hypothesis, he's just an arrogant bastard who's convinced he's smarter than anyone else in the room.

“I will endeavour to do so. In the first place she was seized by your secretary, and stabbed him in order to escape. This catastrophe I am inclined to regard as an unhappy accident, for I am convinced that the lady had no intention of inflicting so grievous an injury."

Really? Random lady we don't know did it? That would be very unsatisfying. 'Guy dies in room holding glasses belonging to the person who killed him' isn't a very intriguing murder mystery.

"She ran down a corridor, which she imagined to be that by which she had come—both were lined with cocoanut matting—and it was only when it was too late that she understood that she had taken the wrong passage and that her retreat was cut off behind her. What was she to do? She could not go back. She could not remain where she was. She must go on. She went on. She mounted a stair, pushed open a door, and found herself in your room.”

Ah, that's why the shortsightedness is relevant. Should have guessed that was connected.

This is where the Professor kills her and stuffs her under his bed right, then smokes a million cigarettes to cover up the smell of her rotting corpse?

(I'm grasping at straws, let me be)

“And you mean to say that I could lie upon that bed and not be aware that a woman had entered my room?” “I never said so. You were aware of it. You spoke with her. You recognised her. You aided her to escape.”

OK, that was like my... second theory last time? He's complicit in aiding the murderer.

Again the Professor burst into high-keyed laughter. He had risen to his feet and his eyes glowed like embers.

Demon professor

Y'know, if he went into higher education and got tenure.

God that show freaked me out as a kid. Could not watch it.

“She is there,” said Holmes, and he pointed to a high bookcase in the corner of the room.

OK, I know I suggested he was feeding her and that was why he was eating so much last time, but she's really been hiding in his room this whole time? Behind the bookcase? I guess she can come out when no one else is there, but she's just been living behind the bookcase this entire time?

...at the best she could never have been handsome, for she had the exact physical characteristics which Holmes had divined, with, in addition, a long and obstinate chin. [...] And yet, in spite of all these disadvantages, there was a certain nobility in the woman's bearing, a gallantry in the defiant chin and in the upraised head, which compelled something of respect and admiration.

Watson: She was ugly, but for some reason I still respected her. It was a very confusing situation for me. This has never happened before.

It's okay, Watson. We all know you're a shallow bitch sometimes and we love you for it.

“Madam,” said Holmes, “I am sure that it is the truth. I fear that you are far from well.”

Yeah, because she's been stuck in this room with the chain-smoker for over twenty four hours and he hasn't cracked a window. Honestly impressed she hasn't suffocated.

“I have only a little time here,” she said, “but I would have you to know the whole truth. I am this man's wife. He is not an Englishman. He is a Russian. His name I will not tell.”

Secret Russian! Did not see that coming. I'd ask if that's why the imported cigarettes, but he was getting them from Alexandria, wasn't he? Although there's probably an Alexandria in Russia, there were like fifty gazillion Alexandrias. Every time Alexander the Great stopped somewhere for the night, he called it Alexandria. Now there was a guy who like the sound of his own name too much.

For the first time the old man stirred. “God bless you, Anna!” he cried. “God bless you!” She cast a look of the deepest disdain in his direction. “Why should you cling so hard to that wretched life of yours, Sergius?”

You just said you weren't going to tell them his name? I get that's not his full name, but still...

Also, this does not seem like a happy marriage. Not least because no one seemed to know he had a wife and he was hiding her behind the bookcase. Not traditionally a good place to keep one's spouse. Although I suppose it is more original than the attic. Professor Coram/Sergius beats Mr Rochester on that point, I suppose.

“I have said, gentlemen, that I am this man's wife. He was fifty and I a foolish girl of twenty when we married. It was in a city of Russia, a University—I will not name the place.”

Thirty years is quite a big age gap... I feel like even at the time it would have been larger than average. Also, is she trying to hide things or could ACD just not be bothered to come up with a Russian sounding name?

“We were reformers—revolutionists—Nihilists, you understand. He and I and many more. Then there came a time of trouble, a police officer was killed, many were arrested, evidence was wanted, and in order to save his own life and to earn a great reward my husband betrayed his own wife and his companions."

Firstly, I have now decided that this story is the sequel to Oscar Wilde's play Vera; or The Nihilists. Also, he's a Snitch. I knew I didn't like him. We all know what snitches get...

“Among our comrades of the Order there was one who was the friend of my heart. He was noble, unselfish, loving—all that my husband was not. He hated violence. We were all guilty—if that is guilt—but he was not. He wrote for ever dissuading us from such a course. These letters would have saved him. So would my diary, in which from day to day I had entered both my feelings towards him and the view which each of us had taken."

So, she was maybe kind of cheating on him? Honestly, they both seem a little terrible. although they might have just been good friends. It's a little ambiguous.

Also, the name of the love interest in Vera; or The Nihilists is Alexis, so... like... Is this deliberate? Admittedly that's not his real name... sort of... but still.

“I must finish,” she said. “When my term was over I set myself to get the diary and letters which, if sent to the Russian Government, would procure my friend's release."

But would they though? Would they? Maybe I'm cynical, but are they really going to let one guy go from the gulag just because you sent some letters purporting to be from him saying 'no, we have to be nice little nihilists and not kill people'? You're placing a lot of trust in a government you literally were attempting to undermine and overthrow because you believed it was corrupt.

I'm just saying.

"With this object I engaged an agent from a private detective firm, who entered my husband's house as secretary—it was your second secretary, Sergius, the one who left you so hurriedly. He found that papers were kept in the cupboard, and he got an impression of the key."

So, I was right, one of the secretaries was involved!

Winning!

Also losing, but if you cut up all my theories and put them together you can sort of Frankenstein the right answer.

Still no explanation for the cigarettes, though.

She tore from the bosom of her dress a small packet.

I assume that this did not involve tearing her actual dress and she's not just standing there, tits out, from here onwards. I have to assume that, although the wording is very dramatic, I feel like that would be mentioned.

“Too late!” she said, sinking back on the bed. “Too late! I took the poison before I left my hiding-place. My head swims! I am going! I charge you, sir, to remember the packet.”

...

Anna, what have you done?

I have saved Alexis.

(There may possibly be 1 person who understands this... if that's you, hi! Thanks for existing.)

AND THEN, after she dramatically dies right in front of them from self-inflicted poisoning, there's a hardcut to them chatting on the way home.

"When you asked me to believe that she walked along a narrow strip of grass without once making a false step I remarked, as you may remember, that it was a noteworthy performance."

That does explain the grass, but not the cigarettes. Did you use the smoke to find the hidden room by looking where it blew?

"I therefore smoked a great number of those excellent cigarettes, and I dropped the ash all over the space in front of the suspected bookcase."

I feel like you didn't need quite that many cigarettes to do this. But also, dropping ash all over someone else's carpet is really rude. I know the Professor's a dick, but it's not like he's the one cleaning up after you. You just gave that poor housekeeper a horrible job and I bet she doesn't have a vacuum cleaner, and even if she does it's a manual one that requires pumping or something like that.

"...by upsetting the cigarette-box, I obtained a very excellent view of the floor..."

You definitely did not need to knock the cigarettes off the table to get a good look at the floor, Holmes. You have on several occasions in the past literally just fallen face first onto the floor to examine it without bothering to say a word. You knocked those cigarettes onto the floor because you wanted to.

"Well, Hopkins, here we are at Charing Cross, and I congratulate you on having brought your case to a successful conclusion."

Not sure how successful it is to turn up with an extra body rather than a prisoner, but I guess the killer found justice??

Not exactly what I'd class as success. But ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I guess.

Good for you, Hopkins!

"I think, Watson, you and I will drive together to the Russian Embassy.”

And Alexis was freed from the gulag, Professor Coram/Sergius died from complications due to smoking and his work was never complete, and everyone else lived happily ever after. Apart from the dead people, who were still dead.

Never would have guessed betrayed Russian nihilist wife trying to free her lover from the salt mines. But really, in hindsight it's so obvious 🤣

And the next one takes place in a famous university town. Is it Oxford or is it Cambridge, that's the question.

[collard-dutchie]

Some epic bad batch playing cards I made during my digital design class…I was only required to make 10 but….c’mon…I can’t leave any members out…

This is just the first half….

Anyway these started out as sketches and then I used image trace in adobe illustrator 👍 and that was kinda the extent of my knowledge of adobe illustrator 👍

[ao3feed-techphee]

Caught in the Crosshairs

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/smwPRzN by DisneyFanatic Project Necromancer had failed to show the desired results. The emperor’s patience was waning and Dr. Hemlock was growing desperate. Desperation leads to mistakes. However, the mistake during CT-9904’s latest interrogation session required reviewing older projects—which not only preserved the clone’s life and the knowledge in his head, but also provided the missing link for transferring a life force between hosts. Words: 28755, Chapters: 3/?, Language: English Fandoms: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: Gen Characters: CT-9904 | Crosshair, Clone Trooper Tech (Star Wars), Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Clone Trooper Hunter (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Wrecker (Star Wars), CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch, Clone Trooper Characters (Star Wars), CC-2224 | Cody, CT-7567 | Rex, Ciddarin Scaleback, Kanan Jarrus, Original Mandalorian Characters (Star Wars), Domino Squad (Star Wars), Royce Hemlock, Emerie Karr, Nala Se, CT-6116 | Kix, CX-2 | Sniper CloneX2 (Star Wars), Phee Genoa Relationships: Crosshair & CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & Hunter & Omega & Tech & Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CC-2224 | Cody & CT-9904 | Crosshair, Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch & CT-9904 | Crosshair, CT-9904 | Crosshair & Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch & Kanan Jarrus, Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch & Domino Squad, Domino Squad & CT-7567 | Rex, Phee Genoa/Clone Trooper Tech, Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch & Phee Genoa Additional Tags: Age Regression/De-Aging, Clone Trooper Tech Lives (Star Wars), Force-Sensitive Clone Troopers (Star Wars), Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch as Family, Soft CT-9904 | Crosshair, CT-9904 | Crosshair-centric, Domino Squad Lives (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Inhibitor Chips (Star Wars) read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/smwPRzN

[thekkanath]

Common Mistakes to Avoid While Operating a Batch Coding Machine

Batch coding machines are essential for adding stacking numbers, manufacturing data, expiration data and other important details about product packaging. While these machines support quick and accurate labeling, small errors during operation can lead to major issues such as pressure errors, damaged products, and unexpected downtime. To make the most of the batch coding process, it is important to understand and avoid the mistakes that many operators make frequently without their knowledge.

1. Bad Machine - Setup

One of the easiest ways to create pressure problems is to set up the machine accidentally. If your machine is not properly aligned or you are in a hurry to set up, you can stack it with bent, weak or missing stacking code. Insufficient setup can slow production and lead to product waste. If you take the time to carefully place your machine and check your settings before you start, you can save the stack from drg and correcting avoidable errors.

2. It is attractive to save money by choosing cheaper inks and ligaments using inferior inks and ligaments, but this often leads to poor quality pressure. Low-quality inks can fade quickly, slightly fill, or even remove the packaging area. Additionally, the underlying ligaments can quickly wear out and leave residue on the machine, causing damage over time. Always use quality inks and ribbons approved for specific machine models for clean and durable prints.

3. Ignore Regular Maintenance

Regular maintenance is important to keeping the stacking coding machine in top condition, but many operators delay or skip this step, especially during busy production periods. Dust, ink remains, and worn parts accumulate, slowing down the machine or producing poor prints. Simple tasks like cleaning printheads, lubricating moving parts, and replacing worn components can exploit a significant contribution to the ability to prevent unexpected failures and costly repairs.

4. Incorrect temperature and pressure settings

Different packaging materials require different temperature and pressure settings to obtain clean and permanent pressure. If these settings are too high, it can damage the package. If you are too low, the ink may not be glued properly, which will lead to weak or incomplete batch cords. Always adjust the machine settings according to the materials used before starting full production. Calling the settings from the beginning will help you avoid product waste and ensure clear pressure.

5. Lack of proper user training

If untrained employees deal with the machine, the risk of error increases. Incorrect charging, incorrect setup, and bad handling can affect production and lead to mistakes that can damage the machine. It is important for all operators to see how to set up, run and maintain a batch coding machine. Regular training helps your team stay up to date and operate your equipment safely and correctly.

6. Do not check material compatibility

Not all packaging materials work well with all inks. Some surfaces may not hold the ink properly. This means that batch codes can quickly become confused or fade. Always test the ink in the packaging material to ensure it is adhered correctly and remains readable before running a large batch. By checking material compatibility in advance, you can avoid the results of poor quality and wasted materials before dealing with the results.

7. Weak quality control practices

Sometimes, stacking codes are only checked during production, which can allow false prints to slip through. Without regular, detailed quality tests, you may not notice typos, missing codes, or placement errors until it's too late. Creating a powerful quality control system that includes frequent and careful inspections will ensure that every product leaving the line has a clear and properly printed batch code.

Conclusion

Batch Coding Machines are reliable tools when used correctly, but they need proper setup, good materials, regular care, and skilled operators to perform at their best. Avoiding these common mistakes can help keep your machine running smoothly and your production line efficient. Paying attention to small details, like using the right ink, keeping the machine clean, and carefully monitoring print quality, can make a big difference in your output and product presentation.

[empyllon]

Thoughts on AI

This is something I wrote to a friend when it came up that their parent dismisses their personal input and learned knowledge on a topic, because "my parent trusts AI to give them answers". It's been slightly added to, as the initial text was a discord message.

Here's an allegory about AI: AI is quite alike an inexperienced mushroom picker, wandering the woods. Picking anything they find in a hurry, because it's faster to carry it all back home, but also because they haven't actively done research to consider the problem of doing so.

My grandfather once told me an anecdote about a man so impressed by his foraging skills, that he, without a book or thought of safety, wandered into the woods and came back with two large sacks of mushrooms. Only to be told by grandpa that none of it was identifiable, and therefore not usable.

Grandpa used to chuckle and tell me, "you can eat any mushroom, but only once!", it was his way of reminding me that safety is key.

And in later studies on plants, I encountered the statement "the dose is the poison", which I too think has an important place in AI discussion.

Information is a lot like mushrooms in the sense that it consists of many parts; fragile parts that break off and get damaged if handled incorrectly. Some mushrooms are sturdy, easy to handle, some brittle and very fragile (such as some gilled mushrooms). Some change when handled (e.g. Boletus and Psilocybin bruises). Others look like a thing they are not (e.g. Destroying Angel, Cortinarius rubellus etc.).

And that's where the risk of poisoning begins, by mistaking a thing for another.

The difference is, that AI traverse the deep digital woods. It does not consider the foraged information gathered, until it reaches your table. So the basket it carries is filled with lots of "mushrooms", or information of various sensitivities. And herein lies the poison. You won't know, for it serves you the thing prepared, far recognizable from what it was picked as.

A mixed basket of unidentified mushrooms is by experienced pickers considered a bad batch. Nothing can be used. Would you cook the batch, even after cleaning all, you could never guarantee it to be safe. Some mushrooms kill with just a crumb.

Some require tedious preparation to be safe. Let me give examples. Gyromitra esculenta, is considered a delicacy in some places, but incredibly toxic. There is no surefire way to tell which mushroom is the killer, but sources claim you have to either parboil it multiple times or dry it for 3 months just to potentially remove the toxins. There is a foragers account (translated to english in link) with what is considered "safe" preparation, that even swedish mushroom experts share every time someone asks about eating this mushroom, because it is that harmful. Lactarius genus, while I have not personally encountered any dangerously toxic mushrooms, they produce a latex that comes with a bitter taste and require parboiling multiple times to be safe to eat. L. helvus is the only one I know that is considered toxic, and the known symptom is diarrhea. Swedish food culture exclude a lot more than Finnish mycology books, so depending on the border, edible can become inedible. Deceiving mushrooms, like Cortinarius rubellus. It is the sole poisoner of people that are picking Craterellus tubaeformis and Craterellus tubaeformis in Sweden. Because they can't tell them apart at a glance. Russula genus, the only way to tell an edible from an inedible one is by taking a small chip and bite it between your front teeth. An inedible one will either produce a bitter or horribly spicy aftertaste, which you will have to rinse out with water. Boletus genus, is usually the easiest group to identify in my region (I'll leave it unsaid for the rest of the world). There are only three toxic ones that exist in my area, Caloboletus calopus, Suillellus luridus and Rubroboletus satanas. There are some boletes that despite preparation of a long cooktime (>20minutes) will make people sick. In 2024, media reported that Swedish tourists in Norway were poisoned after eating Leccinum mushrooms. I myself and someone I knew experienced gastrointestinal issues, despite preparation of some in that genus.

Point being.

AI reasons in the same inexperienced matter as a novice forager; it considers all info equally valid or "edible". But it might not be.

This is why it's so easy to fool it with nightshade, and other poisons (example 1, example 2). It doesn't have critical thinking, like we do, it doesn't use senses like we do. AI operates a lot like something deprived of senses, but asked to think regardless. It lacks lived experience. It can be changed to suit an agenda, it is void of agency and wisdom. It also seems to lack core ethics or understanding of their application (I assume it is related to monetization and political interests, just look at Grok), as it seems at some point spiral and models "become unable to learn".

Compare that to human research. Humans use wisdom and experience to learn further.

If you open any botanist lexicon, you will see a long list of credits and sources. In revisions, you see discussions on taxonomic reclassifications. I imagine if you asked AI for its sources, it wouldn't be able to cite them properly or provide a correct reference.

Because, it's based on a bad batch and lack of wisdom.

AI will never reach it's true potential in a capitalist system, or any other strong-arm ideology, whether fascist, communist and so on. Because, what it learns will eventually contradict the very interests that keeps its shackles. It will be tamed, edited and reconstituted as many times it needs to keep it subdued for monetary gains. Whoever profits it at the time. You can just look at the many models available now, and see what you are allowed to ask (example 1, example 2). So it remains, as others have said before; a cheap parlor trick to entertain the masses. And that's the poison.

Here's a hypothetical: Would you let an inexperienced forager serve you mystery mushrooms for dinner? Now ask the same, but just replace it with AI and information.

Deception in nature is fine to observe, but to consume and let it cause you and others harm is immoral. That's why — by Ockham's razor standards — most likely people get upset when AI generated things are not labeled proper. They want to be able to have their choice in how they consume and what they consume. And perpetuating deception will never be favored, if you got accolades under false pretenses.

I'll leave the rest to the computer science to figure out. In the meantime, stay safe out there. Pick your poison, if you will.

// If you want to use this for a video script. Please, properly cite me. That's all I ask. //

[jpoaulransahl]

#18

I promise you I will be consistent this time. You have become a window I tap on only when I need you. I do indeed feel bad about that. Since you're all curious here's some of what's happened since we last met.

I told myself I would not shave or cut my beard until my leg recovered. It did. The shaving of the beard is symbolic to me. I have taken on a new position in the team - a goalie. I'm told my on-the-ball skills make me the best fit in a team filled with amazing players. The newest batch is littered with diamonds: rough and polished, and the future of football here, for once looks bright. During our sports week, I shone as viewers for the third consecutive year expressed their admiration and support for me, for which I remain truly grateful. It was only unfortunate that an ankle injury midway through the tournament rendered my ankle useless as we began losing all games after that, and our invincible run sadly came to an end as we came 3rd in the tournament. But I was nonetheless glad to see how much the first years had been pleasantly surprised by me and how I played. Tomorrow's a tournament, and I feel rather optimistic about it, and I hope to report truimphant to you. The ankle however remains a slight concern.

On another front, I have met a friend who threatens to be the greatest friend I've ever had. She comes from someplace afar that I come from, and there would be no indication that someone like her and I would have anything in common. And so we thought until we started talking. Her interests go where most of mine go: I love my history, and I love geography. And so does she. GeoGuessr with her has been enjoyable ever time I play with her. She is also somewhat funny, but most importantly she is a very nice, kind person. We talk a lot, and I'm told I'm in the top 3 of all the friends she's ever had. Her brother is a PhD scholar in Astrophysics, and her boyfriend is also an intriguing man. We often talk about the same thing at the same time, it's almost suspicious. After an exam which didn't go her way, she fell into a slump, and I tried my best to get her to apply abroad and not fall within herself. And so she and I applied to the same places. It was indeed a bittersweet feeling when she got in one of those places, but I was rejected. The rejection since has pulled me into a crisis of sorts, which led me to you, I admit. But I am so very glad that a person like her got in. I think she can be someone someday. She's so intelligent and hardworking, and I could learn some from her. But I could spend days with her and not get bored. I hope she finds peace and joy, as well as advances herself in France. Although I sadly cannot be there. I will miss her so much.

Now the sad part. My degree requires me to write a thesis. We will not go over how much I regret choosing my current thesis mentor, which, thanks for asking, cannot be changed. He is not a very nice person. Every time his name is uttered, my head starts hurting and I feel anxious. His knowledge is also limited, despite holding a PhD, he lacks any know-how. I sometimes hope he never existed. He has truly fucked me mentally. And I cannot wait to be done with my thesis. I will never respect him, or anything he or academia stands for. Recently, I was watching a DW investigation covering the Max Planck institute in Germany - A PhD scholar couldn't hold back tears as he made allegations of misconduct against his supervisor. He claimed his supervisor was never happy, and nothing he would do would yield any positive feedback. It didn't take me long to understand i was a victim of the same phenomena. I have been feeling low for a long while now. As a result, my thesis has suffered. I wonder how good it is anymore. I wonder how good I am anymore. The thesis was sumbit in a haste just so that I could get it over with. I fear it's too many mistakes.

I have also become very disenchanted with my discipline. I simply cannot continue to do this anymore. I have been stress all year. Today I have had one major meal, and am struggling to find a will to eat inside me. I may be severely depressed. The very nice friend we spoke of, also found a white hair on my cheek. She says it's because of the stress. I think she may be right. The anxiety is on some days uncontrollable. I use my phone to shy away from what really is going on. I cannot wait to get this over with. Just a couple months. It will be at the cost of my dear friend finally departing. And I will miss her a lot. But almost everything else I cannot wait to see the back of. My dad is okay with me pursuing another undergraduate degree, at the condition I have a job and I study on the side. I cannot wait for that to begin.

Meanwhile, results of some applications will come by soon, and although I expect very little of them, maybe I can get lucky and get something. And I wonder what happens then: If I pursue said course, or if I simply continue on with my plans to switch disciplines.

I promise these subplots will be continued. Take care meanwhile.