I RETURN FROM THE VOID
Seriously, I can't say it enough. Check ShadowsStoryStuff on tumblr, that's where I always post updates/reasons for delays. Thanks to a small "Rose for a Sentence" ask game, there's a bunch of snippets and peaks at the next book. Including a lovely angsty bit with Cross and I. And a bit where Crosshair becomes a mother. No I will not explain.
But this chapter sat at 1800-1900 words for roughly two-three weeks, then Wednesday night I started again and here we are at 5051 words. It be like that sometimes.
This chapter is trash but at least it's posted! There was actually supposed to be like three major other scenes in here. I was going to show my Beta form, show them my knife/hatchet collection, and show them Rotation Seventeen.
That obviously didn't happen lol or this would have probably been at least another 3000 words long.
That said, enjoy what I do have!
Hopefully the next chapter will be out soon ^v^.
And yes... I am a total and utter softie for Wrecker. Tech too. But I adore Wrecker so damn much. He's a sweetheart and no one can tell me different.
Jackpot!
Opening the door had been an issue, but once inside it hadn't taken Wrecker long to find her stash of guns, sealed behind a bulletproof transparisteel window in her closet. He supposed it had been a bedroom at one point but she'd converted it into a storage locker of sorts. Getting to them would not be easy, at least not without ripping the storage unit open. And he didn't want to do that. He'd ask to see them up close later, but for now he'd admire them from outside the glass even though he itched to hold them.
A large grin spread across his face. That was one dangerous woman!
Wrecker already knew she was a powerful fighter and had immensely enjoyed watching her beat the absolute shit out of that annoying bastard James, but gazing upon the stash of weaponry he'd discovered he found he liked her even more! Not as impressive as his own arsenal of course, but his was hard to beat after all. But just look at what she had!
For being so small, her guns certainly weren't. He may not have recognized the models, but he knew machine guns when he saw them. Sniper rifles too! Crosshair had to approve of her now! In total, Wrecker saw five guns; three rifles and two machine guns. To his surprise, all five looked to be slugthrowers. Strange, she wasn't a Jedi hunter or Mandalorian.
But boy was she really was something! Bold, daring, quick witted, and slightly insane, and Wrecker loved it. Finally, someone they had to work with wasn't a scaredy cat or downright arrogant.
She's real pretty, too, Wrecker thought, faint red creeping across his cheeks. He wanted her to like him, he really did. Sure, she was a fellow pyromaniac and rough houser, but he knew he scared most women away. He was too big, too loud, too brash, too reckless.
But she wasn't scared of him! Besides, he was Shadow's favorite of the group! Right? That's what the big barn cat said... He swore her own cheeks colored when the cat teased her, the blush faint yet nevertheless there. It was cute, and he would have told her that had he not been certain she'd clock him in the jaw.
How was he to go about this? Could he even accomplish this? He didn't have Hunter's charm, Tech's brains, or Crosshair's skill... all he had was brute strength.
But she liked humor, didn't she? Sure she did! Her jabs at Crosshair were witty and clever, not some half assed insult he'd seen from some. They cracked him up! That sharp tongue of hers and quick comebacks only raised his opinion of her.
Wrecker had only been half joking when he called dibs. Cute, clever, witty, and a fighter to the bone, she was perfect in his eyes. A bit short, but she certainly made up for that in her sheer ferocity.
Five days. A whole standard week! Surely, he could get her to like him in that span of time, especially considering they'd be around each other all day and night. Hopefully he didn't make a fool out of himself…
Voices from down the hall tore Wrecker from his thoughts. A small smile broke across his face when he heard Shadow's softer tone.
Not soft, just softer.
Heading towards the living room, excitement swelled in his chest. The week started now, and he was determined to make every moment he could count.
~*Earlier*~
Oh.
Oh dear.
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.
How did that one conversation go in Polar Express?
We are in some serious jelly.
In a jam.
Tight spot.
Up the creek.
Up a tree!
Lost in the grass!
I'll tell you what's grass!
I take a shower for maybe fifteen minutes and walk out to find four grown ass commandos snooping in my apartment, one of which was in my own damn room. Tech was lucky he was cute and adorable. Crosshair I wouldn't have been so nice to.
But now I realized I had much bigger problems.
Why had I thrown them behind the couch and not hidden them deep in my closet or something? Under my bed? Under the sink? In the pantry? No one ever looks in the pantry for weapons!
I was no Jedi, far from it, yet I had not one but two lightsabers. How in the Sam Hill was I supposed to explain that?
Hunter turned to me and gestured to the sabers in Crosshair's hands. "Can you explain what these are doing in your apartment?"
My answer was pathetic. "Those aren't mine."
Smooth move, Roderick.
Hunter crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "These aren't yours?" he asked, not convinced in the least. Nor should he be.
Trying not to smile nervously, I shook my head. "Nope."
Hunter slowly stepped closer. "These lightsabers that are on your planet, in your outpost, in your building, on your floor, in your apartment, behind your couch… they aren't yours?"
His chest plate was roughly a foot from my nose. Tilting my head to look up at him, the nervous smile broke across my face and I shrugged. "I don't suppose you'd believe me if I said it was a funny coincidence?"
"I don't suppose I would," he commented dryly.
"Rat piss. I was worried about that," I sighed.
Crosshair stalked closer, shoving the shorter saber towards my chest. "We don't work with Jedi," he hissed.
I blocked his hand away. "Bitch, watch where you're aimin'! Point the business end of that shit elsewhere!" I yelped. If I could die in this fandom, it wasn't about to be because of Crosshair's disregard for basic lightsaber safety!
"You'd better start talkin', brat. Or you're about to be in major trouble. You a reject?"
Rich words coming from you. I quickly caught that before it left my mouth. But it was a damn close call. Way too close. If I called Crosshair a reject, I'd be calling the entire team that. And I wasn't about to insult the rest of them to get back at this telephone pole with attitude.
"I most certainly ain't. I told Hunter. I don't have the Force," I growled.
"Then explain, not-Jedi, how did you shove Four Eyes into the wall when he tried to stick you?"
Not caring for his tone, a small snarl curled my lip. "Because I'm not a full blood Alphian just like Trevor isn't a full blood Rageryan. I've got another species in me. They're called Relks, they're a merchant and artisan trader species hailing from around our planet's equator. They're telekinetic."
"Well well, you're just a mutt aren't you?" Crosshair sneered. "Some sort of half-breed?" Something flashed in his eyes and I quickly realized what it was. He was daring me to turn it around and throw it back in their face. He knew exactly what he was saying. He was doing this on purpose. Pressuring me. Goading me.
Testing me.
Playing mind games, huh Crosshair? Jokes on you, I was a Psychology Major. For like a semester… but I know a mind trick when I see it.
I looked the sniper dead in the eyes and narrowed my own. "What's so wrong about being a mutt?"
Crosshair didn't move his eyes from mine, but I saw something that I almost dared to call respect flash in his brown depths as I presumably passed his test.
Depths… really? That's the phrase you're gonna use?
Will you please be quiet? It's a descriptive word that works when people have nice deep brown eyes.
He's got nice eyes now?
I'm Grey, not blind.
"Cross, stop antagonizin' her before she goes for your throat again," Hunter muttered, taking the bigger saber from Crosshair. Turning it over in his hand, the sergeant looked over it before refocusing on me. "How do you have a Jedi's weapon if you aren't a Jedi?"
An information dump slammed into me, sending me abruptly to my knees. Brilliant amethyst blades spinning and twirling in front of me, Trevor's smile, his strong encouraging voice, a set of dark orange sabers in his own hands held in reverse grip just like mine, my muscles screaming, hot sun beating down on my back, sand and earth whipping around me in a small storm to blind my opponent or vines sprouting from the ground and holding them down, an exhaustion deep in my bones as I went through moves and rotations and katas over and over and over again until those heavy, deadly blades became an extension of my own hand.
Trevor. Trevor trained me. How he knew all these techniques I had no idea. How he got these sabers I had no idea. My last question was answered through a hazy, choppy memory of Trevor and I sitting by a creek after presumably a training secession. He was saying something, something about knowing some guy who specialized in crystal smuggling. He got them from there, then proceeded to get someone else to put them together. Someone we both knew. He lived close. No, not he. She. A name. Sarah. A location… A farm nestled by the river deep in a valley surrounded by vast mountains. Not far away! It was a trail stop… one we'd be stopping at. The first stop.
Sarah was an older force sensitive, once a member of the Jedi order. She was kicked out… no, she left. Left because… freedom. She wanted freedom.
As a wave of nausea washed over me, someone's rough and slightly panicked voice faded back in, asking if I was alright.
I grunted, "Yeah. Fine. Just… fine. Kinda want to throw up, but I went through too much damn trouble getting that food into my stomach to lose it like this."
"What happened, Haran'ika?"
Oh, that was Wrecker's warm, large hand on my back. Why couldn't I tell through the size? Wrecker's hand was far bigger than Hunter's. Well, I couldn't just say it was an info dump. I could, but I did not want to explain the reason I was having them. "Another one of those memory things like I had on the ship," I sighed.
Wrecker's gloved hand slightly encircled my upper arm and slowly pulled me to my feet before resting on my shoulder to try and steady me. I staggered briefly and reached up to hold onto Wrecker's armored wrist before I fell.
"I gotcha."
A warm feeling spread through me at the sound of his gentle tone. It was quite comforting, especially since his normal voice was rough and loud. I quite liked his gentle tone. Beating the butterflies down with a flyswat, I made sure I was steady and let go of him. "Thanks, I think I got it now."
"Ya sure?"
"Pretty darn," I snorted, flashing him a weak smile.
Wait… was Wrecker blushing now?
Ain't no complaints. Get you that muscley boy.
Be gone, thot.
Hunter eyed me with slight worry. "Didn't mean to cause another one of those… episodes."
"At least they're useful," I sighed, glancing at him. "Even if they are a fuckin' bitch." I noticed Tech hovering close by, concern etched into his face. Of course he was concerned, he had seen what my heartrate did during that. "Tech, I'm ok."
He looked doubtful. "Are you certain?"
"Her heartrate is slowing back to its normal beat," Hunter confirmed.
Not really wanting to take a closer look at how I felt about the weirdly intimate fact Hunter was actually listening to my cardiovascular rhythm, I grumbled, "Yeah. Besides, I've survived worse. Takes more than that to kill me."
"Pity."
I glared up at Crosshair. "Fight me, angle faced bastard."
"Tsk tsk tsk, not on your game anymore," he taunted, a small smirk on his face as he thought he had the upper hand.
Oh, he really wanted to be an ass, did he? "Listen here, you discount scarecrow, start being nicer or I'll drop kick your five-ounce ass off the balcony!"
Tech coughed suspiciously as Wrecker started laughing beside me. Not that I minded, I could listen to the big guy's laugh all day. Hunter meanwhile looked to be biting his lip to stop himself from laughing.
Crosshair's face on the other hand seemed to be torn between anger and surprise. I didn't blame him, "discount scarecrow" was a rare insult. Right up there with the vulture and sleep paralysis demon lovechild one. "You can try. You can barely stand, sweetheart," he said finally, crossing his arms as he looked me up and down.
"Yeah, barely stand you." A new thought crossed my mind and I turned my attention back to Wrecker. "Where were you?" I asked, looking the large clone up and down.
"Lookin' for your arsenal the fire breather talked about!" he said with a grin. "It's very nice!"
Oh, please do not tell me they're just lying about. I know better gun safety than that!
"Fire spitter," Tech corrected, and judging by the look on his face it wasn't the first time he'd corrected Wrecker on the terminology.
"Same difference!" Wrecker huffed.
"No, it's not!" Tech protested.
"He can make fire come from his mou- Are those lightsabers?!"
I groaned. I had forgotten about that for a few blissful seconds. "Yeah, they are."
"Did'ja panic when they found 'em?" Wrecker asked, cocking his head to the side. "Is that why ya got sick?"
"No, they asked me how I had 'em and that triggered it," I sighed before turning to glare at Crosshair. "That wouldn't have happened had you just believed me when I said I was no Jedi!"
"So… how did you get them?" Hunter asked hesitantly, looking half worried he'd trigger another episode.
"Long story short, Trevor knew a guy and got the crystals from him and a mutual friend of ours who is Force-Sensitive and a former Jedi put them together," I said. Long story short, ha. That's literally all I myself know.
"How did he get to know someone with access to Kyber crystals?" Crosshair asked, looking at the saber in his hand.
"If there's one thing I've learned with Trevor, sometimes it's better to not even ask," I said with a shake of my head.
"Wait, that crazy man has sabers too?" Hunter exclaimed.
"Where do you think I learned how to use mine?" I snorted.
"But lightsabers are not useful in a fight unless you are Force sensitive," Tech said, snatching the saber from Crosshair and turning it over in his hand. "How would either of you be able to fight with them?"
"They're not useful in a fair fight, Techie," I corrected. "I may not be able to block blaster bolts, but I can hold my own in a sword fight." A sly grin crept across my face. "Because Trevor taught me how to use my Alphian and Relk abilities to my advantage. When fighting an opponent my skill level or higher, I either use Sandstorm to blind, Earthquake to throw off balance, or Vine Sprout to ensnare."
Hunter looked oddly impressed. "You really do fight dirty."
"Course I do. Look how tall I am," I muttered, gesturing to myself. "I ain't too much taller in my Beta form yet either. That reminds me…" I turned to Tech. "I told you I'd show you one of my other forms, didn't I?"
A large, excited grin spread across Wrecker's face. "You're gonna turn into a critter?!"
"Yeah, big guy. You know that big cat from the barn? I can shift into one of his species."
"Ooo! I wanna see!"
I couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "One critter, comin' right up." Walking to the center of the living room, shooing Crosshair out of the way in the process, I turned to face the men. Crouching down, I closed my eyes and focused on shifting into my feral form. It'd be easier to do that rather than attempt Beta form and have to fiddle with fitting my tail through my pants.
But that wouldn't be a problem here. A haze of mist had already hidden me from sight and sealed away my clothes. I should probably have thought a more realistic shifting process of my main original species, but honestly sometimes in writing you had to say "fuck it, magic time" and run with it.
I heard some gasps as the mist cleared, and when I opened my eyes I found I was eyelevel with Tech. It instantly grew hotter as well, my dense fur doing its job a little too well. Sitting down, I glanced behind me at my massive tail. Yep, that was a Mountaineer tail alright. Thick and strong like a Snow Leopard's.
"Woah!" Wrecker exclaimed, jogging forward to my side. "You're the same size at that gray fella in the barn!"
I chuckled, voice deeper with a hint of a hiss. "I'm a different subspecies. Still growin' too."
"The females exhibit mane growth in addition to the males?" Tech asked, coming forward to my other side as Hunter walked past him to examine my tail.
"Aye. I have more than a Forester'd have, namely the presence of a ventral mane, but a Wastelander outranks me in mane growth. Those things are basically a fluffy tank with teeth, males especially."
Crosshair stood more or less gawking at me, muttering in what I supposed to be Mando'a, before grumbling, "You are one big furball."
"Finally," I said with mock euphoria. "A nickname other than brat."
His eyes narrowed but Tech spoke up before the sniper could retort. "Shadow, why didn't you use this form to run from us or battle us when we first met you?"
"Because she wouldn't have been able to duck and dodge through that training ground," Hunter murmured, crouching by my tail and trying to measure the size of it with his hands.
"That tail is as long as my body," I supplied to the sergeant, twitching a tufted ear before looking back at Tech. "Not only would you guys have stunned me immediately, but it's hot as hell outside. This fur is designed to keep me warm in subzero, high altitude environments. I would have had a sore where-ever-you-shot-me, but heatstroke on top of that. Not my idea of- Where do you think you're goin?"
The latter half of my sentence was directed at Crosshair, who had begun to wander back towards my room or the other room where Wrecker had presumably found my stash.
The man ignored me and continued on.
"Hey!" I shouted, standing abruptly. A shocked yell accompanied the action as my heavy tail swung and knocked Hunter off his feet, sending him flying back a few feet to land on the couch. I winced, hoping I hadn't knocked the breath from him. At least the action caused Crosshair to stop in his unsanctioned mission to my room, instead looking back to a partially winded Hunter.
Shaking his head, the sergeant stared at my tail with surprised eyes. "What the kriff is that thing made of?!"
"Muscle?"
"I'll say!" Wrecker jogged back and reached for my tail.
I swished it out of his reach, whiskers twitching with slight amusement.
"Aw, come back 'ere!" He followed my tail.
"Careful what you wished for." I swung my tail back into him.
He managed to catch it with a loud grunt as it slammed into his chest, but just barely avoided falling down.
Shifting my weight forward to counterbalance, I raised my tail to see if I could lift the demolition expert. Sure enough, his feet left the floor as he held tight to my tail.
"Woah! This tail is strong!" he laughed, swinging his legs back and forth.
"Yeah, but I can't lift things with it for too long," I grunted, depositing him back on the floor. "It's a balance and counterweight for when Mountaineers run down steep mountain slopes after prey. That or a stabilizer when we jump."
"Fascinating!" Tech chirped.
"Yeah, sure," Hunter grunted, picking himself off the couch. Breathing deep to regain air in his lungs, he looked over my form. "How far can you jump in that body?"
I thought for a moment, trying to recall the ratio with Snow Leopards. "About… hundred twenty feet? I myself can leap farther thanks to the Relk blood."
"Roughly thirty eight meteres! That's a good distance without the telekinesis!" Tech exclaimed.
"Aye, it is." I fixed my gaze on Crosshair again as he tried to slip into the hall. "Which means I can take down your giraffe lookin' headass from here if you don't cease and desist this very minute, Mister Crosshair."
"The kriff is a giraffe?"
"Don't worry about that. Stay out of my room," I growled. "Or you'll see how good I am with those sabers."
"What color are they?" Tech asked, inspecting the lightsaber again.
"Wreck, let go of my tail and I'll show y'all."
"Awwww," Wrecker groaned, releasing the fluffy extension of my spine.
Shifting back, I took the sabers from Tech and Hunter and stepped back again, giving myself room. Flipping the switch to ignite the blades, I grinned when the purple plasma crackled to life. Spinning the hilt with my fingers to switch them to reverse grip, I took up a stance and grinned at the commandos. "Ta da!"
Tech eyed them with surprise. "Purple! That's used by Jedi who employ trace elements of the Dark Side into their fighting and commonly use an aggressive, offensive style of combat!"
I nodded. "Right you are, Techie. So, let that be a warnin' to you, Twiggy. I fight mean."
"They're shorter than usual," Hunter remarked.
"I'm not one for extended sword fights. Like my Kelusine form's subspecies, I'm an ambush hunter. Or I fight dirty. They're lighter when they're shorter, and easier to maneuver and spin without the risk of slicin' my own leg off."
"Makes sense," Hunter commented, stepping closer to see the blade.
"Ain't one for aesthetic so… yeah most of my design choices are function only," I replied, sheathing the blades again.
"I did notice your apartment being rather bare," Tech mentioned, glancing around once more.
"I had a plant."
"What happened to it?"
"I seem to have a rather bad habit of killin' everything I touch so it's a bit… deceased." I frowned for a moment before looking at Crosshair. "Hey, Twiggy. Want a handshake?"
He gave me an unimpressed look before rolling his eyes. "I'm done with this show and tell bantha-shit. I'm takin' a shower."
"See if you can clean your shite personality while you're at it, Twiggs," I called to the sniper's back.
"I ought to clean that foul mouth of yours," he retorted.
I bristled at that. "You stay the hell away from my mouth or I will bite you. Ask Wrecker, I do bite."
"She does!" Wrecker laughed.
"So do tookas. You're about as scary as one," Crosshair snorted.
"Then your obituary is gonna be really pathetic when it says 'Death by tooka armed with glowsticks'," I shot back.
"Hey, enough," Hunter said, stepping between us. "Cross, make sure you don't hog the hot water like usual."
Crosshair waved him off.
"Oh, hold up!" Wrecker exclaimed, running for the door to presumably try and beat Crosshair to the shower. Crosshair immediately broke into a run himself, prompting Wrecker to yell at him again.
They're siblings alright. "I take it that's usual?"
"You have no idea," Hunter groaned. He looked me over for a moment before looking to Tech. "I take it you're sleeping in here on her couch?"
The engineer looked at me with an almost sheepish expression. "If she does not mind."
"Nah, not at all," I shrugged.
Hunter gave a satisfied nod and walked back to their temporary apartment. The swish of his hair when he turned was immensely satisfying.
Are you staring at his armored ass?
He doesn't exactly have an ass to stare at.
The armor probably presses it down. Kinda like a sports bra, only for his butt.
Can you not? We don't go for ass anyways.
Should I start on his Dorito torso?
You should stop undressing the lethal commando!
But he's so aesthetically pleasing!
Tech cleared his throat, making me jump and quickly look over at him. The engineer shifted on his feet, looking uncertain of what he wanted to say. "I… I should probably…" he gestured to his gear. "Check this."
Oh man please tell me he didn't catch me staring at Hunter's ass. "Can't offer tools, but you probably got that covered."
"Yes! I do in fact! I have a large variety of tools and instruments that I always carry with me for any sort of technical obstacle we may encounter! After all, it is better to have it and not need it-"
"Than to need it and not have it," I finished with a small laugh. "Yeah, I'd drink to that if I could drink. That was one of our main sayin's in karate."
"Words to live by, definitely when you are constantly on missions," Tech smiled. "Are you good with computers?"
"Sorry to disappoint you, Techie, but I am utter shit when it comes to technical equipment. Nor am I any good at math," I said, shaking my head.
"Why are you not good with them?" Tech asked, tilting his head to the side.
"Because when I get mad, I tend to take it out on the nearest thing to me. I'm no technician, but I know percussive maintenance and sensitive circuits do not mix."
The clone winced. "At least you understand that better than Wrecker. I have lost so many gadgets thanks to his lack of common computer etiquette."
I had to laugh. "'Wrecker' and 'etiquette' are as synonymous as 'Crosshair' and 'gentle'."
"He can be when he wants."
"Wrecker? Seeing that boy trying to fit in a suit must be a popcorn worthy event."
Tech shook his head. "No, I meant Crosshair. He can be nice went he wants."
"Him? Nice? Ha, you're funny, nerd."
A frown dug into the corners of Tech's mouth. He protested, "I was not joking."
I crossed my arms, still holding onto my sabers. "You said 'Crosshair' and 'nice' in the same sentence. You had to be jokin'!"
"I wasn't!"
"Tech, Crosshair has the same grip on kindness that I do on romance. That's one thing we both have in common." My voice lowered. "We're both jaded as hell."
"You do not like romance?" He sounded surprised. "But I thought women enjoyed that genre!"
"Not all of us. In my experience, it only crumbles apart." I shook my head. "I'm stoppin' myself right here and now before I go down a dark road and get bitter or depressed. That's not somethin' I want to deal with tonight."
"But talking about an issue aids in the healing of it. I'm a good listener, and I've studied multiple techniques to aid the others."
Are you an android sent by Cyberlife or something, Techie? Or should I call you Connor, Mister 'I studied human psyche to better understand them'? "Yeah, that's why I got a therapist." I shook my head again. "Tech, if you really want to know more on this subject, try again in a few days, alright? I'm already tired and when I'm tired, I get very bitter very quick. That's not someone you want to deal with, trust me."
"I see… Are you going to go to sleep?" Tech asked, thankfully respecting my wish to change the subject although he still looked curious.
"Nah, not for a bit. If I go to sleep too early, I'll be up at O'Dark-Thirty. I'm just gonna chill in my room for a bit," I said. "Oh, that reminds me, I'll show you where the sheets are since you're probably sleepin' in here on the pullout."
"Oh! I can sleep on the couch as it is, I've slept worse places."
"Yeah, but at least take the chance to sleep in something that isn't dirt or a hard bunk," I pressed.
He held my gaze for a moment. "You say you aren't nice," he said softly. "But you clearly care about us sleeping comfortably."
"Don't get mushy on me, Tech, or I'll show you my combat skills with a pillow," I snorted, turning away so he wouldn't see the red creeping across my face.
Footsteps followed behind me. "Thank you," he whispered.
"Why are you whisperin'?"
"Because I can tell you do not want the others to know you are kinder than you let on," he said in that same soft tone, moving to walk beside me.
I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. Catching the kind smile, I had to look away as the butterflies from earlier revived themselves with vigor. I really needed to look into an exterminator. "I'd prefer it if no one knew. But… guess if anyone were to catch on, I guess you aren't the worst person to notice."
His smile grew, but he didn't say anything.
Luckily, we arrived at the closet and I was able to point out the sheets to him before making a quick get away towards my room.
"Shadow!"
I cursed mentally and looked back. "Yeah?"
Holding a bundle of sheets, he flashed another one of those adorable smiles at me. "Thanks again."
"Er… yeah. Sure."
"If you aren't going to sleep, what do you think you'll be doing?"
Why? "Either drafting for my stories or watching videos."
That was another funny trait of these self inserts. I may have been in another universe or time period, but I has access to everything modern such as YouTube and 2020 vidoes.
Do it. Invite the nerd to join you later. You know you want to. Dew eet.
Fuck it.
"Once you finish your tinkerin' and get a shower you're welcome to poke your head back in." I flashed him a grin of my own. "I don't mind you in my room as long as you ask, nerd."
He seemed to instantly brighten. "See you in a few, then!" he called, quickly hurrying away to the living room again.
"See ya, nerd," I said with an amused shake of my head before walking back into my room.
Let's see what Cory's got for content tonight.
Seriously... never ask Trevor where he gets things/how he knows things. It's better not to know.
I also was gonna call Crosshair "Pinhead Larry" but when with giraffe instead lol.