#astromechs

[holonetwork]

Astromechs of the Expanded Universe

[trooperst-3v3]

My students and I are still working on fixing up all the droids. We've moved on to the astromechs now.

They're definitely being sassy with the cadets since they're not as experienced as I am, but that's not even the hard part.

You'd be surprised how difficult it is to keep track of the BB Units' round bodies when they're fresh out of an oil bath.

Watching the younglings chase around these big, metal, incredibly fast, and incredibly slippery balls was like being the spectator of some horrible sport that you knew neither team was gonna win.

[floridaboiler]

[youkailuvr]

RebelCaptain Network Secret Santa 2024

Hi @astromechs!

I am your RCNSS! I am so sorry this is delayed - life was absolutely non-stop for me for the last month.

In reading your prompts, my mind latched onto the Regency AU. It's...definitely not the usual Regency AU, but I hope you like it!

Lusus Naturae

Whim of Nature

A lovely way to describe a not so lovely reality that Lady Jyn Erso finds herself living. In Regency England, a woman her age should be more worried about who to marry and setting up her household. But no, she gets to fight demons. And fight a growing attraction to the person who pulled her into this life - Lord Cassian Andor.

Inspired by Dark Days Club, by Alison Goodman.

Lusus naturae - YoukaiLuvr - Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016) [Archive of Our Own]

@therebelcaptainnetwork

[jaqobis]

💜 with katniss and peeta (i'm giving you a real blast from the past here)

the two victors from district 12 stay curled around each other long into the night.

it isn't comfortable. the bed is barely large enough to fit the two of them, and they had to do a lot of negotiating to avoid dangling elbows and feet. but they managed; and this is a far cry from the worst place peeta has ever held her in his arms. district 13 isn't safe, but it isn't an area. it isn't the capitol. it isn't long days and nights on a train where their every move is watched.

oh, peeta is under no illusions that they aren't being watched here. a lot of resources went into extracting them from the arena, and he knows — they both know — it's only a matter of time before coin asks for her repayment. the war is in full swing now, and katniss is the mockingjay. they need her. peeta is, he knows, far more expendable to the cause — but he isn't expendable to katniss, and that's why he's here instead of a capitol interrogation facility. he isn't under any illusions about that either.

katniss sleeps about as often as he does, but she's been quiet, breathing steady, long enough that he suspects she's been lulled into rest. he likely won't be far behind her — he's exhausted, and these quiet moments are the only reprieve he gets. there's no painting in district 13, of course. there's barely any drawing. he gets the occasional allotment of pencils and papers, but rarely, and usually with a specific expectation of them. what use is letting him articulate his fear through art? but if he wants to depict some of the capitol's atrocities, and if he'll just turn his drawings over to coin's people so they can copy and disseminate them...

she shifts in his arms abruptly, and he moves to accommodate as she turns to face him. katniss looks at him with her dark eyes, haunted and unblinking, before bringing her lips to his. it isn't gentle. she crashes into him with enough force that he has to free one hand to brace himself on the side of the bed, lest they both topple over. but only briefly — because then he draws that hand around her shoulders, pulling her closer, opening himself to her. he's hungry for this too, is the truth. his family is gone. his life, such as it was, is gone. his district is gone. even his chance to die for the girl he loves in the arena is gone. all he has left is her, and this war.

that's all he has left, so there's no reason not to cede to this, to her. he kisses her, and again, and again. he pulls back slightly, only to find her throat with his mouth, but she untangles her arms to lay her hands on both of his cheeks and draw his mouth back to hers. or, she tries; he breathes out a laugh before he can stop himself, and he can feel the curve of a rare smile pulling at her lips.

"don't go anywhere," she says, with mock severity.

he raises his eyebrows, unable to keep the mirth out of his voice. "yes, ma'am."

still smiling, katniss closes the distance between them once again.

send a heart and a ship for a brief snippet! + now on ao3

[mosylufanfic]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso Characters: Cassian Andor, Jyn Erso Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Cooking, or should i say — very much failed cooking, short and sweet. that's all i've got. Summary:

Somehow, though — he isn’t annoyed. Maybe it’s the way that when Jyn creases her brows, her whole face seems to scrunch up right along with them; maybe it’s the way that her hair falls loose and unkempt to her shoulders, or maybe it’s the way that she’s standing there in one of his shirts, and it’s so big on her that it practically goes down to her knees.

Maybe it’s the glint of recognition in her eyes when she finally turns to face him, the hint of something soft that’s there even through her scowl, even through her shrug when she says, probably unnecessarily, “Tried to make breakfast.”

Or: Cassian has a very unexpected morning, in more ways than one

-

from @astromechs

[chipthekeeper]

I LAUGHED

same 😂 I don’t know how you do it, you must have a much calmer kitty

[frostbitepandaaaaa]

tell us about day 31 😌

lol so i guess you may have noticed that it may have perhaps resembled a Whumptober prompt? i never actually wrote/posted the last prompt i was responsible for for that month of prompts, but that doesn't mean i don't have a 5k+ word draft for it in my WIPs!!

i started and restarted on that prompt about 4 times until i landed on something i was pleased with. hopefully once i'm done with my RCSS, i can finish that prompt and all will be well with the world.

this fic borrows its premise from an old max/furiosa fic by @sacrificethemtothesquid that i am obsessed with, called Glow. basically, jyn and cassian are on a mission and Cass comes down with radiation poisoning. pain ensues.

snippet, for your pleasure/pain:

“Was it something you ate, you think?” she postulates. He shakes his head, shoulders heaving under his coat. Her blood stops in her veins when he finally looks at her. His eyes are wide and wild, his face pale and strange-angled in the odd, bloody light of Tilo’s brilliant sunset. He looks ghostly, haunted, an animal caught in a trap. “The parts—“ he pants, something in his voice breaking in fear. “You didn’t— you didn’t go near them…?” Jyn hesitates, shakes her head. First in confusion but morphing quickly into hasty confirmation as the fear in his face takes on an edge. She had not touched the half-rusted, nearly unrecognizable pile of parts they had traded for this morning. The man who had traded with them had claimed the parts were from some ruin of an outer-rim rock, now defunct and lost to knowledge. Old Republic and rare as kyber. Or something like that… Jyn hadn’t paid much attention. Cassian had handled the whole transaction (he had more patience for and much more experience in haggling) and she had hated every minute of the exchange. The queer look in the trader’s rheumy eyes, the swiftness of his acceptance of their offer (a stack of Jilib leather and a bag of local moonshine that could strip the paint off a speeder—certainly lowball barter). Jyn had tried to protest, but Cassian had insisted: these fledgling rebel cells they were here to infiltrate traded in scrap and salvage— the more foreign the better, to attract potential collectors and the deep pockets that came with them. Cassian had assured her it was, indeed, a scam as they left, but they could still promisingly trick any rebel leaders for long enough to get what information and recruits they needed before getting the hell off world. “Jyn,” Cassian prompts sharply, eyes growing wider, a bit wilder, as he looked her up and down. “No,” she finally croaks and Cassian collapses in relief on the runner board. “But, Cassian.. what does that have to do—“ He shakes his head, waves a stalling hand so he can cough and sputter between his knees again. Jyn’s very bones are tingling with heightened awareness. She’s never quite seen him this scared, this… dire. Cassian Andor is a constant, a non-variable. Steady, reliable, a force of nature that couldn’t be stopped or diverted. But here he is, her Cassian, cut off at the knees and spilling his guts into the blowing sands of a foreign planet. Looking at her as if she might disappear at any moment. As if he might. If she’s being honest, it’s fucking terrifying. She kneels next to him again. “Cassian… what’s going on?”