Skoodge awkwardly bumps into her, not looking where he was going and nervously stammers over his words.
Skoodge known as one of the more successful Irkens, rumors of becoming the potential posterboy of their race and Tenn respects him professionally, but she’s weirded out and wants to get out of there.
Poor Skoodgie ;w;
He just needs a friend. I headcanon him getting nervous if there was a little crush.
Inspired by that scene from Balto where he awkwardly slips and stumbles as he’s running and they go nose to nose.
Damage control. Now would be the perfect time for damage control.“I’m sorry for calling your painting porn!”
Well shit.
Bucky is a Security Guard at a fancy art gallery and is absolutely not crushing on the Tiny Blonde Guy who frequents the Modern Art section. Nope. Not at all.
Written for the prompt "All the other naked pictures are actually next door."
An anon was asking for more Han/Boba fics and I’ve also been thinking about how frustrated I am with Boba always being a bad guy, so I figured I’d find a way to combine the two and still make Boba’s life a living hell. ;)
Boba knew better than to expect any job to be easy and with this one in particular he’d taken extra precautions to try and be prepared for any contingencies. It hadn’t helped.
“Your father hired me to get you out safely,” he repeated. “There was nothing in my contract about a baby.”
“His parents refused to pay the ransom.” The Nautolan girl cradled the sleeping kit in her arms. “I heard Filchen say he was gonna sell him to the slavers!”
Filchen was a Bothan thug with delusions of grandeur. A small-time smuggler and thief he’d recently started expanding his gang and trying to take on bigger jobs. Including kidnapping. Which was the reason he was standing in the bowels of Filchen’s latest den being glared at by a defiant twelve year old.
Boba shrugged. “He’s a Zygerrian. He’d probably grow up to be a slaver, anyway.”
The girl- Khel Seriss- narrowed her deep red eyes and jutted out her chin. “Jenner is a baby. And I’m not leaving without him!”
The timer on Boba’s helmet display was counting down to the next patrol. If they didn’t leave now they might not make it out at all. He weighed his options and sighed.
“Fine. But you’re responsible for him.”
Ignoring her squeak of triumph he opened the door to check the hallways. Still empty. Keeping his blaster at the ready he motioned for her to follow him out. There was a maintenance shaft near the stairway that he’d used to get in. It had been plastered over before Filchen had taken control, but a little help from a fusioncutter had opened the way again.
They were nearing the shaft when Boba heard voices echoing down the stairs.
“...what I signed on for!”
“Then you shouldn’t have signed the contract.”
Boba didn’t recognize the first voice, but the gravelly tone of the second one was Filchen. He swore under his breath. The timer still showed they had eight minutes, but, as often happened, timetables couldn’t be trusted. He turned, grabbing Khel by the shoulder and propelling her towards the opening in the wall.
“Go!”
She stumbled forward, the kit in her arms muttering a noise of protest.
“Did you hear that?” Filchen asked.
“What? No, I didn’t hear anything!” The second voice seemed to be speaking louder. “Look, Fil, I don’t care about the kriffing contract, I want out!”
Khel was having trouble managing the handholds with the kit in her arms. Boba was just reaching in to take hold of him when Filchen and his cohort came around the corner of the stairs.
Filchen’s large nostrils flared, his ears tilting back in a rattle of beads.
“I knew it!” Roaring, he attempted to fire his blaster, but the human with him slammed into his side, knocking him against the wall and causing him to drop the weapon.
Boba wasted no time shooting him between the eyes and then trained his blaster on the young human, who raised his arms.
“Hey! I’m on your side, here!”
Khel had screamed when shot was fired and was now trying to calm the kit, whose high-pitched wail was sure to draw even more unwelcome attention.
“The only one on my side is me.” Boba fired again, but the kid dove back around the corner.
Boba took the kit from Khel’s arms and gestured at the ladder again. “Hurry up!”
She was trembling hard, but did as he said, scrambling her way up towards the roof. He moved to follow, keeping his weapon trained on the stairway until the last second, but there was no return fire.
“Someone killed Filchen!” He heard over the sound of the Zygerrian’s increasing screams. “They went out the back!”
Taking a chance he holstered his blaster and started climbing. “This is why I’m never having kids,” he muttered as tiny claws attempted to scratch at his armor.
They made it to the roof without incident. Boba all but shoved the kit back in Khel’s arms, breathing a sigh of relief as it immediately quieted, grabbing for one of her headtails. He shrugged back into his jetpack as he checked for signs of pursuit. Nothing. Which was a welcome surprise.
“Wuh- what h-happens now, Mr. Fett?”
“Now we get you back to my ship and home to your-”
The door beside him burst open. Boba grabbed the figure as it tried to run past, swinging him around to slam against the wall.
“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!”
It was the same kid from the basement. Shaggy brown hair hung just over his eyes. Age was indeterminate, but probably in his late teens. He had a blaster clipped to his belt that Boba took for himself.
“What do you want?” He pressed the barrel of the modified DL-44 to the man’s head.
“You weren’t gonna leave me behind, were you?” The kid had the audacity to grin at him. “After I helped you escape?”
“Han!” Khel tugged at Boba’s leg, smiling. “It’s Han! He’s nice, Mr. Fett!”
“Nice people don’t kidnap children and hold them for ransom.”
“Hey, that wasn’t my fault! I was brought in after that and they didn’t tell me- wait, Fett?” Han’s eyes widened. “Jango?!”
Boba felt a familiar stab in his chest at the mention of his father’s name.
“His son.” He all but spat the words. With a final shove at Han’s chest he turned away, dismissing him as a threat. “Come on, Khel, we need to leave.” He knelt to pick her up, careful not to crush the kit against his chestplate.
“Hey, what about me?” Han demanded.
“Not my problem.” He toggled a switch and launched into the air, coming to land two streets over where he’d stashed his swoop.
“That was fun!” Khel giggled. Even the kit was making chirping noises that Boba interpreted as happy.
“Ever ridden on a speeder bike before?” He set her on the ground.
“Duh! Tons of times!” She stared at the swoop.
“Good.” He snatched a faded pennant off a nearby pole and fashioned a makeshift sling. “Give me the kit.”
“His name is Jenner,” she corrected, gently placing him into the sling. “It’s okay Jenny, Mr. Fett is our friend!” She smoothed down the fur on his forehead.
Jenner took one look at Boba and started screaming again.
“Shh! Jenny, no! Friend!” Khel patted his head.
“Just get on the swoop and hold on tight.”
“I think your helmet scares him,” she said, clambering on the front and clinging to the bar.
“Too bad.” Boba climbed on behind her, leaning over her as he started the engine. His armor should shield her and the baby if-
“There they are! Get ‘em!”
Boba gunned the throttle as blasterfire erupted around them. Khel clung like a burr to the front grip and Jenner’s scream ratcheted up into a wail that made his teeth ache.
The race through town was not one he cared to remember. It was full of screaming children, baby vomit, weapons discharging far too close for comfort, and, for some reason, cabbages. He called ahead to his ship, lowering the ramp so he could drive the swoop right into the cargo bay. He skidded to a stop inches from the wall, the ramp already lifting into place behind him. Khel started to topple sideways, but he caught her and set her on her feet.
“Are you hurt?”
“Um?” She sniffled. “I don’t know?”
“Good.” He shrugged out of the sling and handed it to her. “Go clean him up. I need to get us out of here.”
Jenner was still wailing, interrupted by the occasional hiccup. Boba ignored him and Khel’s wavering questions about where the ‘fresher was and headed to the cockpit. Permission to undock was granted when he was already halfway through the procedure (a little bribery worked wonders) and then they were in the air and headed out of atmo. The sooner they left this dirtball behind, the happier he’d be.
“Hey, you got any food on this thing?”
Boba pivoted and fired, startling a yelp from-
“You!”
“Watch it with that thing!” The kidnapper from the rooftop, Han, glared at him from the doorway. “You could kill someone with that!”
“That’s the point.” Boba didn’t lower his weapon. “How the kriff did you get on this ship?”
“Oh, uh,” Han’s eyes darted around the cockpit. “You lowered the ramp so I just kinda climbed in.”
It was an upsetting thought. How had Han even known which ship was his? How had Boba failed to notice what happened? What else might he have missed? Too many questions and no time to deal with any of them.
“If you climbed in then you can climb right back out.” He twitched the barrel of the blaster, trying to get Han to back up.
“We just broke orbit!”
“Not my problem.” Boba stepped forward. Han stepped back.
“Look, ah, the kids are hungry. You got anything they can eat? Khel’s partial to kelp strips but she’ll eat anything fishy. Jenner’s not on solids yet.”
The console beeped, interrupting Han’s babbling. Boba clenched his jaw. The temptation to shove the interloper out the airlock was overwhelming, but he just didn’t have time. Yet.
“Galley’s down and on the left,” he said, turning back to the controls to enter coordinates for the jump. “Nautolan meal packets in the freezer. Might be some milk in the fridge.”
“Yeah! Great! I- I’ll get right on that!”
He glanced at the rearview camshot and was greeted with an image of a smiling Han just before he left. It was... a nice smile. Not that he cared. The smile was attached to an asshole. And a liability. He’d deal with that later. For now he concentrated on final preps and then made the jump to hyper.
Meet Awkward Idea courtesy of me and my new suite mate
Person A has just been transferred dorms to share a suite with Person B. The rooms are separate, but they share a bathroom. Person A doesn’t know this and thinks they have a bathroom to themselves. Person A walks into the bathroom to find Person B in only a robe, having just gotten out of the shower.
Derek spins his keys around his index finger as he jogs up the last few steps to the third floor landing. He blows out a breath as he rounds the top of the stairs, patting the banister as he does. Derek is nearly to Isaac’s apartment when he hears a loud thud and muttered curses.
“Ow, shit, god dammit!”
Derek rushes towards the small elevator at the end of the hall. He skids to a stop and gapes; wedged diagonally in the elevator doorway, is a loveseat. Derek puts his keys into his jacket pocket and calls into the elevator, “Uh, hello? Are you okay in there?”
Initially the only answer he gets is a series of quiet sniffles, then a cautious voice answers, “I’m fine, thanks.”
Derek isn’t certain, but he thinks he hears quiet mutters of self-deprecation from within the elevator. He ducks to speak into the gap beneath one end of the loveseat, “You need help getting out?”
A choked laugh is his only response.
Derek carefully eases under the loveseat and into the elevator. “Hi,” he smiles at the guy sitting in on the floor in one corner. “I figured this would be easier than you know,” Derek gestures to the loveseat, “trying to talk around that.”
There’s a minute of uncomfortable silence, and then another.
Derek sighs, crouching down next to the guy. “I’m assuming you weren’t actually trying,” he points to where the loveseat is stuck, “to do that.” Derek sees the guy’s face crumble, and rushes to reassure him, “Oh hey, don’t do that.” He reaches out, yet stops before actually making contact with the other man’s arm, “It’s not as bad as-“
“Please don’t.”
Derek pulls his hand back, “Sorry.” He gives the other man a tight smile, “I was just trying to help.”
“Thank you…”
“Derek.” Derek holds his hand out, “My name’s Derek.”
“Nice to meet you, Derek.” A shaky hand reaches to take Derek’s, “I’m Stiles.”
“So tell me, Stiles,” Derek eases onto the floor next to a stack of boxes, “how long were you trying to get that loveseat into the elevator?”
Stiles laughs, one hand coming up to rub at his forehead, “Longer than I’d like to admit.” He takes a deep breath and leans his head on the wall behind him, “I should have waited for a day when my best friend could help me, but no, I had to be the perfect boyfriend.”
Derek frowns, “How so?”
“I wanted to get this stuff out of the apartment before my boyfriend came over.”
“Ah.” Derek reaches into the box next to him. He holds up a PlayStation controller, “spring cleaning?”
“Sort of.” Stiles gives a half-hearted shrug, “Figured it was time to abandon some of that stuff, ya know? I’m twenty-six; it’s time for me to grow up and be an adult.”
“I see.” Derek sets the controller back into the box, “Why does that sound like something you rehearsed in front of the mirror?” He picks up a battered copy of Diablo III, “My friend used to love this game. I never got into it.” Derek sets the game down, “I’m more a point and shoot kind of guy.”
“Lemme guess, you were Halo fanboy?”
“Hey now,” Derek gives Stiles a look, “I wouldn’t consider myself a fanboy, but yes, I did play Halo, among others.”
Stiles shakes his head, “Figures.”
Derek’s brows lift.
“It’s nothing, just,” Stiles waves a hand vaguely, “figures I’d meet a cute boy who plays video games the day after I decide to finally ask my video game hating boyfriend to move in with me.”
“Cute boy, huh?” Derek swallows back a laugh at the casual shrug of Stiles’ shoulders. “I think I’m gonna choose to be flattered by the ‘cute’ part versus offended by the ‘boy’ part of that statement.”
Stiles sits forward, “Good idea.” He stands up, hands smoothing over the back of his jeans.
Derek’s eyes follow the movement. He allows himself to take in the view for a few seconds before standing up as well.
“So,” Stiles blows out a ragged breath, “any chance you cou-“
The sound of Duran Duran’s “Hungry Like The Wolf” fills the small space. Derek hurriedly pats his jacket pockets, a horrified expression on his face. He pulls his cellphone out, eyes narrowing when he sees just who the caller is. Derek presses the answer button with his thumb, “Not funny, Isaac.” He looks up to find that Stiles is watching him with a bemused expression on his face. Derek gives him an embarrassed smile while he listens to Isaac. “Look, technically I wasn’t late.” His eyes flick to Stiles, “I’m on your floor actually.” Derek rolls his eyes at Isaac’s response, “Don’t believe me? Step outside.”
From down the hall there’s the sound of an apartment door opening, followed by an irritated voice muttering, “You liar.”
Derek ducks under the loveseat, and out of the elevator, “Turn around.”
Isaac spins on his heel, and steps towards the elevator, cellphone still clutched to his ear. His eyes take in the scene with interest, “What the hell were you doing in there?”
Derek shifts his cellphone to deliberately speak into it, “I’m making new friends.”
Isaac looks down at Derek’s phone then back up. He pulls his own away from his ear and stares at it with an exasperated sigh, thumb ending the call. “Making friends with an ugly couch?”
From inside the elevator comes an offended, “Hey!”
“Isaac, meet Stiles.” Derek calls into the elevator, “Stiles, meet Isaac.”
Isaac ducks to look into the elevator and gives Stiles a small wave, before straightening to give Derek a look. He mutters under his breath, knowing full well that Derek will hear him, “Friends, huh?”
Derek flashes his eyes at Isaac, then smiles, the expression anything but friendly, “Shut it,” he gestures to the loveseat, “now help me.”
“Seriously? Manual labor on my birthday?”
“No, hey man, you don’t have to.” Stiles emerges from within the elevator and waves his hands around, “Look, you two go do whatever it was you were gonna do. I’m fine.” He holds up his own cellphone, “I’ll just call my friend Scott to come help me. It’s not a big deal.”
“Really, Stiles, it’s not a problem,” Derek gives Isaac a pointed look, “Right, Isaac?”
Isaac looks between Stiles and Derek, both brows lifting as he contemplates his answer. He gives Stiles a clearly insincere smile, “I’d be honored,” Isaac turns to look at Derek, “but I swear if you start yelling ‘pivot’ at me, I’m dropping that monstrosity on your feet.”
“I would never do that!” Derek smirks, “Again.”
Stiles laughs. He watches as the two men effortlessly shift the loveseat out of the elevator, his eyes widening when they jostle it between them until the weight it settled evenly. It takes Derek clearing his throat for Stiles to realize that he’s been staring, his lips parted slightly.
Isaac hides a smirk against his shoulder.
Derek smiles kindly, eyes flicking between the loveseat and Stiles, “Where do you want it?” He pretends to not hear Isaac’s near silent, “You know where he wants it.”
“Um, I, uh, hmm,” Stiles runs a hand over his hair. He laughs softly, “You know what? Fuck it, I’m keeping it; all of it, and if he doesn’t like it, tough shit.” Stiles eases his boxes out of the elevator, then turns to head down the corridor to his front door.
Derek shares a look with Isaac, flashing his eyes to keep the beta quiet as they move down the hallway towards Stiles’ apartment.
Stiles holds the door open for them. He gestures vaguely, “You can just set it there. I’ll move it into place later. Thanks for your help.”
“You’re welcome.” Derek smiles as he heads for the door, “See you around, Stiles.”
Stiles follows them out, “Yeah, maybe.” He smiles, “You know, since Isaac and I are neighbors apparently.”
Isaac rolls his eyes and walks back to his own apartment, “Apparently.”
Stiles waves, “Bye, Derek. Oh! And Isaac?” He waits for Isaac to turn, “Happy Birthday. Sorry to have interrupted you and your boyfriend’s date night.”
Isaac grins, “Thanks.” He tilts his head, and after a moment’s contemplation states, “Derek’s not my boyfriend by the way. He’s single as can be.” With that parting shot Isaac ducks into his apartment.
Stiles turns to catch the blush flaring across Derek’s cheeks, “Sorry, I thought-“
Derek holds a hand up, “It’s okay.” He takes a few steps towards Isaac’s front door, “G’night, Stiles.”
“Night.”
The second Derek is inside Isaac’s apartment his friend is speaking.
“He has a boyfriend, D. Don’t be a home-wrecker; don’t be that guy.”
“I’m not, okay? I wouldn’t do that. You should know me better than that. I just,” he sighs, “I like him, that’s all. There’s just something-”
Isaac punches him on the shoulder playfully, “I’m just messing with you, man.” He shrugs into his jacket, “They fight all the time, y’know. I hear it through the walls. The boyfriend’s a jerk. I’ve run into him in the hall, and he’s not a nice guy, but Stiles? He’s alright, I guess.” Isaac holds the door open for Derek, “You could do worse; you have actually.”
“Thanks for reminding me.” Derek glares, “With friends like you, who needs enemies?”
“Love you, too.” Isaac grins as he locks his door, “I guess you’ll just have to come over a lot more now, huh?”
Derek shrugs, “Maybe.” His eyes drift back to Stiles’ door, “Definitely.”
