Tech: WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?

[Tech and Crosshair are the math whizzes and it’s what I said. They always work on equations together and often get into heated debates that sound like a foreign language to the others but I imagine it goes something like this:]

Tech: Why are you integrating?

Crosshair: Because you integrate to go from displacement to velocity.

Tech: You don’t integrate! It’s differentiation!

Crosshair: We wrote this down five minutes ago.

Tech: I am simply in awe of you right now, Crosshair.

Crosshair: I get that a lot.

Tech: Explain yourself.

Crosshair: *sighing* It’s the derivative.

Tech: And you are also calculating the vector angles?

Crosshair: *slaps the back of his head* Yes, keep up, nerd.

Hunter: When both of you are here, I lose all my brain cells.

Tech: Do not blame me for Crosshair’s poor computational delivery.

Crosshair: >:(

Wrecker: *covering his ears* I can hear you two arguing over stuff like this when I’m not sittin’ next to ya!

fallin' for ya

Crosshair x GN!reader

pre TBB, pre Echo :(

sum: you aren't watching where you're going and crash into a very handsome clone

wc: 1k

-✰-✰-✰-

You were rushing down the hall, quickly unclipping your datapad from your belt and checking the chrono on your vambrace. Three minutes. Three minutes to make it halfway across Tipoca city to the debrief room for some last minute meeting that you really shouldn't have to attend. After all, they were only armory stats, which you could send over in 2 seconds flat, but no. The commander insisted you be there. Just in case. 

You were so focused on checking the files you had just uploaded for the meeting that you failed to look up when rounding the corner past the hangar bay, leading you to slam hard into the side of a passerby. The victim of your distraction must have caught their leg on yours, because their weight quickly shifted forward. In a moment of uncharacteristic grace, you managed to swing your arms around to catch their weight, leaning heavily on your left leg, your datapad clattering to the floor.

And then you saw him. He seemed to be a clone, but not like any clone you’d seen before. His hair was a sleek silver, closely cropped, and his gaunt face was marked with a tattoo over his right eye. Your hands wrapped around a rather slender waist as the gravity of your positioning settled in. Whoever this unfortunate clone is, you just dipped him in the middle of the hall; your cheeks started to heat up. At least, you noticed, he had grappled onto you also. One hand gripped at your shoulder, right at the junction of your neck, his thumb grazing your collarbone over your GAR issued uniform, while the other dangled a large rifle just brushing your calf.

But what you really noticed was his eyes. Their chestnut color shone with surprise at the vulnerable tilt he had just been swung into. You vaguely registered his squad standing in your periphery, and, after what felt like minutes but couldn't have been more than a few seconds, pulled him back into an upright position.

Gazing up at him, you also clocked that he was taller than the average clone. He was certainly taller than you, and standing rather close since your hands had yet to leave his waist. Your uniform felt quite tight on your skin. 

“You okay?” you questioned, trying to make some sort of recovery from that embarrassing display, while slowly drawing back your arms from around him. Hopefully he didn't catch the breathless tone of your voice. His shock seemed to have subsided some, and the previous gaping look he held morphed into something closer to a sneer. He opened his mouth to respond, when suddenly your vambrace crackled to life.

“Y/L/N!” You cringe at the tone. The commander was not happy.

“On my way, Sir,” You spare a final glance to the man before scooping up your datapad and skirting around him and the rest of his black and red-clad squad, retreating from the scene you no doubt created, not daring to look back. 

You made it to the durasteel doors without any more incidents, your eyes staying straight ahead to avoid any further collisions. Scanning your badge, you attempted to sneak into the meeting without much fuss. The commander’s bucket snapped to meet you from across the room, and you could feel his glower through the expressionless helm. Quietly sliding to the back of the room, you tried to keep your focus, but your mind kept slipping back to your altercation, the feeling of your hands circling his waist and the grip of his hand on your shoulder. Through the long meeting, your cheeks never quite lost their warmth.

xxx

Crosshair watched their hastily retreating form until they were out of sight before donning his best grimace and shifting to look at his brothers. All of them had barely contained glee at his misfortune. Hunter was obviously biting his cheek to hold in a laugh and maintain some decorum, but his eyes were gleaming with laughter. Tech had a small smirk, sparking a slight twist of fear in his stomach that that whole ordeal may have been recorded. Who was he kidding, Tech was always recording. He was ruined. 

Wrecker, however, did not show restraint, letting out a hearty laugh and clapping Crosshair on the back with a heavy hand. His scowl intensified as he shoved Wrecker’s arm from where it rested and began to stalk back to the barracks. He vaguely registered Hunter, hopefully asking Tech if he was recording, Tech’s short “obviously” sparking further laughter from the bunch he was leaving behind him.

After settling on his buck to begin the process of cleaning his rifle, his mind flickered back to you. The shock on your face, seemingly surprised that you caught him, the way your eyes raked appreciatively across his face, the way your arms settled snugly around him. He adjusted himself on the bunk, unsettled by how quickly you had invaded his thoughts. He added more grease to the rag as your features flashed through his mind. You had looked so pretty above him. That thought had him stopping in his tracks. A light blush settled across his cheekbones and he decided to tuck that mental image away for later, before returning to his work with a new sense of vigor.

After what must have been only a quarter hour, Crosshair heard the swishing sound of the door opening. He had since finished with the barrel and had moved on to inspect his scope when a name flew through the air. He turned his head slightly to see Tech leaning against the doorframe. Tech repeated the name when Cross didn’t respond, elaborating:

“Your hero,” snark dripping from his voice, “A Weapon Systems Repair Officer in the level 3 armory. In case you were wondering.”

“I wasn't,” he hissed, his mind turning the new knowledge over in his head.

“Checks have been completed and Hunter and Wrecker have left for the Mess.”

And then he was gone, leaving Cross alone with his rifle and his thoughts. Very softly, he tested your name out on his tongue. Maker, he was going to regret this.

Though, now that he was really looking at it, his scope did seem a bit off. Perhaps he needed to get it adjusted. Perhaps he knew a very pretty officer who could help him out.

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy,moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious,gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tango ever bro could cause a nuclear bomb inside me and I'd still ride.

Thank you, if it's classified then I won't push for information.

You might have already been asked this but are your goggles prescription or just eye protection?

This is classified information due to the risk of it falling into the wrong hands. However, I can share that they are highly useful and enhance my visual abilities significantly, thus my helmet being built around them.

What the FUCK did the animators put into Crosshair Bad Batch to make him so hot

Like HONESTLY

The new season is going great

Prank

So this is a Crosshair one shot I made on my way home from work. So not as much formated as when on my laptop. A TikTok gave me the idea. As seen with the story below the cut. And I just felt like it had to be Crosshair being a bit mushy. Hope you all enjoy it! Tried to keep it genderless.

Rating: Fluffy, lovey dovey fighting

Masterlist

Crosshair prided himself on precision.

Everything he did, his aim, his movements, his calculations for the always perfect shots, was exact, measured, deliberate. He didn’t make mistakes. He didn’t stumble, didn’t fumble, didn’t miscalculate.

So when he grabbed the crates, expecting them to be full and heavy, only for them to collapse in on themselves like a flimsy crate, he immediately knew something was wrong.

He had checked them yesterday. They had been full, fixed in place, solid.

Yet the moment he lifted them, he used too much force, expecting weight that wasn’t there. The momentum sent him stumbling backward, his grip loosening, the crate folding in on itself as it hit the floor.

For a second, there was silence.

Then—

Laughter. Bright, bubbling laughter filled the cargo hold, and Crosshair’s head snapped toward the source of the sound.

Y/N.

You stood a few feet away, hand covering mouth, shoulders shaking, eyes gleaming with pure amusement. "You—" Crosshair started, but you just grinned, barely containing yourself. "I took the screws out."

His eye twitched.

You tilted your head, smirking as you rocked on your heels. "And emptied them."

"Of course you did."

You knew. You had planned this. You had seen him checking them yesterday.

Crosshair’s annoyance flared, not real anger, but that familiar, sharp-edged frustration that only you could pull from him. He took one step toward you.

Your eyes widened. Immediately, you turned to run. But Crosshair was faster. Of curse he is. The master of the agility of a loth cat.

Before you could get even two steps away, he surged forward, catching you with ease. And instead of simply grabbing you...

He tackled you.

But gently. Because even in moments like this, even when he was messing with you, his instincts never let him forget to be careful with you. The one person he cares more for than anyone.

So instead of slamming you into the durasteel floor, he twisted mid-fall, taking the impact himself, making sure you landed safely on top of him. Batley grunting.

You yelped, laughing uncontrollably as you squirmed, trying to free herself from his grip. "Cross, no—!"

"Cross, yes."

You two rolled, you trying to push him off, him keeping you locked in place, shifting so you couldn't slip away. Your laugh filled his ears, bright and warm, fingers digging into his shoulders as you fought half-heartedly. Because the laughing clearly didn't help in your favour.

Crosshair grinned, pressing his forehead against your just enough to make you giggle even more. Making sure he gets as much of tvat sweet melody he can. "You think you’re funny, don’t you?"

You grinned up at him, eyes dancing with mischief. "Of course, I know I am."

He huffed, rolling again so that you are pinned under him this time completly, his arms bracketing you in. Your breath hitched, laughter slowing just slightly, replaced by something softer, something warmer.

Crosshair smirked, leaning down, voice low. "You do realize this means payback, right?"

Your eyes widened slightly, a nervous giggle escaping her. "Wait, Cross, let’s be reasonable-"

"No."

And just like that, his fingers found your sides, pressing just enough to make your shriek. You screamed through your laughter and wheezes, trying to wiggle away, but he didn’t let up, grinning as he mercilessly tickled you, enjoying every second of your desperate attempts to escape.

You had started this. And now, you are going to pay for it.

Reblogs are very welcome and I am open for feedback, as english is not my first language, so maybe my sentences may be weird sometimes, or I write a word wrong even with google, or I use a wrong word for an item.

Tag: @spectacular-skywalker @clonethirstingisreal @sleepycreativewriter @moonwreckd @sskim-milkk @heidnspeak

Peekaboo!

Reblog to put a smile on someone’s face ♥️

Taglist: @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @littlefeatherr @the-bad-batch-baroness @antoinettesb @neyswxrld @elephantwoman4 @goblininawig @sevdidntdie @proteatook

What did you like in this season ? Favorite part ?

Young Silco licking his lips.

And Ekko trying tea for the first time.

i drew this while reading the first book and was already loving it <3333