
18+ Blog; Drawing - Writing - PoetryKo-fi: https://ko-fi.com/delicateartisantrashWriting & Drawing for:Transformers, The Mandalorian, The Bad Batch I will accept drawing prompts for just about anything; Doesn't have to be afandom love of mine. I love drawing pretty much anything-- plants, animals, cars & machines, people, robots, comedic comic scenes, etc etc etc.
313 posts
Me: My Eyes, Glazing Over The Screen As I Scroll Through My Feed.
Me: My eyes, glazing over the screen as I scroll through my feed.
My past: *pOPS OUT OF KRIFFING NOWHERE TO HAUNT ME*
good lord, that fanfic. it's a legend of it's own. I remember being just floored when I found out a friend of mine's friend was the one who re-uploaded that story to Fanfiction.net when it got taken down for being so... Beyond words, shall we say. Anyhow, she re-uploaded it, and provided us endless hours of amusement.
Friends and I in highschool used to laugh ourselves sick taking turns seeing who could read it out loud the longest with a straight face. I'm not sure I'm proud of the fact I excelled. The contained laughs were painful.
i hope ebony dark’ness dementia raven way, age 33, is enjoying the my chemical romance comeback and live tour,
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More Posts from Delicateartisantrash
Fever - Tech - Pt 4
If you're new, this all starts with Touch Starved!
Part 4 for Fever. <Listen... I clearly can't calculate how long a fic is actually going to be. Don't worry though, Part 5 is already written. I'm just going to post this one first so, hopefully, folks won't accidentally skip it. >
Febuwhump Day 11
Warnings: TW: symptoms of withdrawal, accidental drug exposure via fungal spores, high fever, needles/IV, paranoia induced violence, blood, broken nose, vomiting, dry heaves, mild sexual tension
WC: 3,602

“No, no; Tech-Tech, honey, listen to me,” It was a fight to keep my voice gentle as I struggled to hold the panicked man to the bed; one hand pressing his shoulder firmly into the mattress even as the other cupped his jaw with every ounce of tenderness I could, legs straddling his hips, lips barely an inch from his ear. The terror in his eyes rent my heart to pieces, each broken whimper that caught on jagged gasps threatening to ruin the sliver of strength keeping the tears trapped in my stiff throat.
“I know you’re scared, but I’m ri-” The word cut off into a sharp grunt as his forehead slammed into my nose, the threat of rage vying to conceal that fear that consumed him. A curse caught on Hunter’s lips, body just beginning to surge forward.
“Just keep his hand still.” I instructed quickly, cringing at the stuffiness already robbing the clarity from my voice. Despite the way my eyes watered, the violent urge to draw a hand up to guard the shrieking nerves as my sinuses began to swell, I refused to let my touch leave him for even a moment, thumb continuing to sweep carefully over his cheek, lips still hovering close enough for him to feel my breath, though my body remained tense, ready to shy back at a moment’s notice.
“Shh, you’re safe, Tech.” I murmured, pointedly avoiding soft sounds that might emphasize the thickness stealing over my voice. The first drop of red that bled over the dark pillow drew a silent scowl from me, shifting to impatiently drag my nose over the fabric already damp with sweat stretched over my shoulder, flinching slightly at the hurt brought by the rough motion.
“Doc.” Hunter called, but I didn’t bother looking back at him.
“It’s fine, Hunter.” I answered in the same, soothing cadence I used with Tech.
“Can you hear my voice, sweetie?” I breathed, noting the gradual weakening of his thrashing. “Good… that’s good, Tech – just listen to my voice.” I saw the exact moment he abandoned that façade of anger; the moment the full depth of his fear left him trembling even more violently that the fever, and I released my hold on his shoulder to let both hands whisper gently around his face, fingertips just slipping into the dark curls of hair still soaked with that burning sweat.
“You feel that?” I asked dragging my thumbs up his jaw, fingers dancing along his scalp before slowly dragging back to hold him. “I’m right here, Tech; I’m right here with you, okay?” I felt his arms tense, felt the sob tear through already shattered breaths as Hunter’s hold kept the limbs still. Glancing over my shoulder, I gave Hunter a small nod. He hesitated a moment, but slowly pulled back.
“Shh.” Turning back to the man just beginning to fall apart beneath me, I sighed the quiet sound against the clammy skin atop his temple, and, once more, he reached for me, trembling touch creeping uncertainly over my thighs, my ribs, up my back. “I’ve got you, Tech.”
With the full weight of his desperation, his hands clasped around my shoulders, arms locking around me as his shoulders hunched forward. I eagerly returned the embrace, arms wrapping around his neck and shoulders, one hand twisting up to cup the back of his head, and he hid against me, face tucking into the crook of my neck, feet scraping atop the mattress in some futile effort to curl further into me. I had to crane my neck to wipe my nose against my shirt, carefully turning the motion into a gentle nuzzle before pressing my lips back to the frightfully hot skin over his brows.
“Alright… you’re doing great, just keep holding on to me, okay?” I continued and was shocked to feel him nod against me. Instantly, my touch grew even softer, words carrying that much more weight with the cursed realization that he was lucid enough to understand me.
“We’re on the Marauder,” I started voice falling into a smooth hum, “Echo’s on watch in the cockpit – I’d say he’s keeping your seat warm for you, but he’ll probably leave it colder than he found it.” The absent movements straining to pull himself closer to me began to still, focus straining to follow my words, “Crosshair’s doing inventory; he didn’t even complain about it, this time; and, if we listen carefully, I bet we can hear Wrecker snoring.” Those frantic gasps slowly eased towards something near to a steady rhythm.
“And Hunter’s right here with us. He brought me one of those yellow ration bars he knows I hate – I think he’s still mad that I was able to up your provisions when he couldn’t.” The affronted huff that sounded behind me drew a quiet chuckle from my lips, and I was thrilled to note the tiny hitch in Tech’s breathing as well. “I don’t hear you voicing any alternative theories – guess that means I’m right.” I murmured through a warm smile.
“Th-the ye… yellows are-are his-s… f-favorites.” I couldn’t help but go still at the revelation, heat creeping up my neck as I turned back to find Hunter pointedly looking to the far corner of the medbay, jaw stiff, face darkening beneath a painful blush that quickly spread to the very tips of his ears.
“Are they?” I asked, words lit with the threat of laughter, and I just caught the briefest glimpse of Hunter’s hand reaching out to latch around Tech’s ankle for only a moment before he pushed himself to his feet.
“I’ll get you something else.” He muttered, attention locked carefully on the door as he tread stiffly from the room.
“I think that was supposed to be a secret.” I nearly giggled, fingers resuming their gently movements through his hair. Tech let out a weary hum, and I could feel the strength begin ebbing from his hold. Just as he was about to slip away, he drew a sharp breath, body tensing to refasten his embrace.
“Shh,” I murmured once more, “It’s okay to sleep, honey; I’ll be right beside you when you wake up.” Some wisps of sound broke over his lips, absent any real meaning, but it was mere seconds before his arms began to drift down once more. “That’s it,” I praised warmly, “Shh, just rest. I’m right here.” His head went limp in my embrace, hands falling heavily to the cot.
I waited a moment longer before carefully setting him down and easing him back onto his side. The smear of crimson against his temple and hair twisted my lips into a cringe, and I quickly retrieved a cloth to delicately clear the blood from him before letting my attention wonder to his hand to check the IV. With a slow sigh, I pushed myself up and stepped away from the bed. I’d only just begun wiping at the flood of red staining my upper lip when the door opened. The flash of guilt that shot over Hunter’s face brought a forgiving smile to my lips.
“Occupational hazard.” I said dismissively.
“That’s exactly why we started keeping watch with you – to keep this from happening.” He argued. Gaze carefully studying the swollen mess of my nose, he walked purposefully toward me, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at the blue ration bar he set absently atop the cot frame.
“It’ll be fine.” I assured him, resuming my attempts to rid my skin of the stain, edges just beginning to clump and flake.
“Look at me.” The quiet rumble of his voice; the deep concern bleeding through each word suddenly left me frozen, gaze darting to those intense, umber eyes as his fingers gently reached up to whisper over my jaw, touch painfully tender as he carefully shifted my head to one side, then the other. “Take a deep breath.” He barely breathed the order, and I instantly felt my chest swell in response, attention too enraptured by the fire shooting through me in pulsing ripples from every inch of skin burning beneath his caress. “Let it out.” I’d only just begun a slow exhale when his hands slipped over my cheeks and, with two fingers on either side, wrenched my nose straight.
I barely managed to bite back the choked cough of shock and pain, body wrenching away from him, but he easily followed the hurried motion, hands dropping back to cup my jaw a moment before retrieving the cloth I’d been using it earlier and holding it carefully under my nose.
“Are you okay?” Air trembling slightly between still clenched teeth, I tried to let the lingering tension slip away with each carefully controlled breath.
“Yeah.” I sighed quickly, “Thanks.” He said nothing as his hand dropped to gently gasp my chin between his thumb and forefinger, pulling the cloth away for a moment to reassess. I tried not to focus on that heat he again guided my face to the side. With a final swipe of the towel, he reached around me to pull some bacta from the cabinet.
“I can do that, Hunter.” I reminded him, but the look in his eyes easily silenced me.
“I know.” He murmured, already gathering some of that blue gel onto the tips of his fingers, and I couldn’t bring myself to find any breadth of objection as he meticulously worked it over the throbbing stretch of skin spreading over my nose and across my cheeks. I couldn’t risk letting myself think about the sorrow in those eyes; the reason behind the depth of that guilt, nor could I bring myself to turn away from it. I seemed to float from that delicate touch around my chin, as though only that wisp of contact tethered me to even the memory of the reality around us.
His hand stilled atop my cheekbone, gaze studying me with an intensity that sent fire dancing beneath my skin. For only the briefest of moments, I felt his fingers whisper against me, just threatening to draw me nearer, before dropping away entirely, and I couldn’t dismiss the shock of that tether suddenly being wrenched away, body nearly staggering at the sharp loss. Drawing in a deep breath, I let my gaze fall quickly to the floor beneath my feet. I knew he could hear my heart racing; that he could smell the endorphins swimming through my blood. I knew he was painfully aware what that damn touch had done, and yet he said nothing as he turned away from me.
“Hunter,” Before I could more than breathe his name, Hunter’s attention snapped to his brother. Abandoning what words of accusation or fear or want had been vying for life atop my tongue, I quickly followed his gaze, feet already gliding over the floor to return me to the pilot’s side. In a flurry of movement, Hunter darted forward to snatch a bin as I wrenched Tech up against me, too aware of what the subtle seizing through his torso preceded.
He didn’t seem to wake until the instant his stomach finally balked, spine curling forward around a violent retch that succeeded only in robbing what bit of fluid lay in his empty stomach. That painful emptiness, however, offered no reprieve as unproductive heaves continued tearing through him, one hand reach out to claw uselessly against the side of the bin. Carefully wedging my legs beneath him to help ease him into some semblance of a comfortable position, I wrapped a supporting arm around his chest while my other hand began drawing slow circles up and down his back.
I started to ask Hunter to dig through my bag for some nausea meds, but my voice stilled at the way the color steadily began draining from his face; how his throat shifted stiffly every few seconds, and I felt a flush of guilt for not considering sooner how hard this would be for someone with his senses.
“I’ve got him,” I whispered, head ducking in an attempt to catch his gaze. “I want you to swap with one of your brothers.” His brows drew harshly together, eyes darting up to me with an excuse ready on his lips, but I quickly interrupted him, “I don’t need two patients right now, Hunter.” There was a gentle tease in my words, but the truth in them still left his jaw grinding. “It’s okay,” I assured him quietly and nodded toward the door. He hesitated a moment longer, but when Tech seized around another torturous gag, he had to wrench his attention away. With a reluctant nod, he set the container carefully beneath his brother and moved heavily toward the door.
“I know; just try to breathe.” I murmured at the huffed whimpers just catching on staggered gasps amidst frightful tremors threatening to wrench from my hold. I heard those heavy footfalls several seconds before Wrecker came trotting through the door.
“Watcha need, Doc?” He asked, undeterred by the rancid scent filling the air as he quickly approached us.
“In that bag, there’s a vial labeled ‘antiemetic’.” I said calmly. Wrecker quickly began digging through the handful of vials before pulling one out. “Great; can you support him while I give it to him? Just hold him here.” I praised warmly before motioning for him to replace the arm I had wrapped around Tech’s chest. “Careful not to jostle him.”
“Heya, Techie,” His voice dropped into a low hum as he kneeled just behind his brother, movements reserved beneath a heartbreaking worry as he leaned forward to brace him, “You sure went and got yourself messed up. Good thing we got Doc with us, right?” Without my saying a word, Wrecker’s free hand replaced mine against his back as well, mimicking the soothing circles as I quickly fed the medication into the IV, and my heart melted at the sight.
A grunt caught in Tech’s throat, but the beginnings of another heave caught the words sharply atop his tongue. It stilled before stealing through him, but he remained painfully tense, eyes ground shut as his chest danced around rapid, shallow breaths.
“That shouldn’t take long to help.” I whispered, shifting to reach for his other arm. “Let me see your wrist for a minute, okay?” He strained to unclench the muscles enough for me to pull the limb onto my thigh, and I began gently working my thumbs between the two large tendons stretching toward his hand, noted how the fingers gradually loosened enough to curl slightly beneath the pressure of my touch. A hesitant curiosity crept over him, eyes cracking just enough to watch the movement.
“Is that like tha’ thing you do for headaches?” Wrecker asked quietly, and I sent him a beaming grin.
“It is.” I answered brightly. “Except this spot helps with nausea… At least it should.” Attention turning back to Tech, I lowered my voice even further, “Think it’s helping?” He focused on the rhythmic motions of my thumbs for several more seconds before giving a small nod, body sinking further against me as the relief settled over him. “I’m glad.” I added softly, just letting my lips brush against his temple. “Do you want to lie back down, now?” Another nod.
-
Wrecker sat atop the bedframe, legs dangling over the edge as he asked about how rubbing a spot on his hand helped his head and a spot on the wrist helped the stomach. After resettling Tech onto the cot, he’d left to dispose of the soil bin, and I’d taken a moment to run a wet cloth atop Tech’s chest and back to free him of some of the sweat and grime. The pilot now lay in relative peace as I listened to Wrecker’s questions. His honest curiosity had been a pleasant distraction from thoughts storming through my mind regarding Tech’s illness, that fleeting moment with Hunter, and… Crosshair…
“How do yuh know if you’re pushin’ too hard?” He asked almost nervously. I gave a little shrug, lips pulling into a loose smile.
“Everyone’s different – you just have to gage as you go. With you, I get a full body workout to get deep enough to really be effective. Tech and Echo are a bit more sensitive, and Hunter and Crosshair are both a bit of a nightmare – they need it gentle in some places and harder in others.” The way his lips bunched slightly illustrated the unspoken dissatisfaction from my answer.
“Here.” I murmured, reaching for his hand. “An easy way to start is to just follow between the bones lightly; like this.” I dragged my thumbs softly over his palm. “Now, you haven’t given me much indication that you’re really getting anything from that little touch, so I knew I can apply more pressure.” On the next pass, I dug deeper into the callused skin. Instantly, his breath deepened, shoulders hitching slightly before sinking down. “And there’s the sign that I’m making progress.” I added with a quiet giggle. Only then did he even notice the way he’d begun to relax, and a light smile spread over his face.
“You try.” As soon as I voiced the offer, he tensed, eyes turning uncertainly to my hand.
“Uhh, but… you’re so small…” A breathy chuckle escaped me, and I set my hand pointedly in his.
“Wrecker, you pulled us both out of a landslide without hurting me.” I reminded him, brow quirking up as my head tilted back to catch his gaze. “I trust you… go on.” Movements slow, as though waiting for me to change my mind and pull back, he tentatively cradled my hand in both of his, thumbs only twitching for a moment longer before finally sweeping lightly atop my palm. It was more akin to the caress of a lover than a massage, but I still found myself melting against him, head tilting to rest thoughtlessly against his shoulder as I lazily followed the irregular rhythm of his motions with my eyes.
“A little harder.” I encouraged quietly. He glanced briefly toward me before risking a gentle pressure in his next sweep. “You won’t break me, Wrecker.” I teased warmly, and I could hear his teeth click, jaw tensing, but when his thumbs burr into my palm once more, it sent that burst of static rippling up my spine. He paused for barely a second before letting out an almost silent chuckle and, with more confidence, repeating the motion.
I felt the skin prickle along my arms, across my scalp, down my legs; and I couldn’t begin to hide the way my breath hitched amidst the flutter of elated nerves. My eyes slid shut, body eagerly sinking into him as he allowed his touch to wonder up to my wrist, the pad of muscle at the base of my thumb, nearly moaning in relief as he carefully played with the joints of my knuckles, leisurely working over each finger.
“You’re a natural.” The words left on a blissful sigh as I shifted just enough to press my forehead lightly against his shoulder. A nervous chuckle caught in his throat.
“Yuh think so?” I could feel the heat of a blush creeping up his neck.
“Mmhmm.” Movements laxed beneath blissfully limp muscles, my head shifted into him in something closer to a nuzzle than a nod. “Think I could get you to do the other one, too?” I could hear the smile in my own muttered words.
“Y-yeah, sure.” The surprise in his response sent a flutter of warmth dancing through my chest, and this time I didn’t try to suppress the little groan from the flush of pleasure in nerves lighting beneath his firm touch. “Guess with how often we been comin’ to you for things like this, we should’a figured you’d like ‘em, too.” He said quietly, something like an apology touching the words. I drew a deep breath, only just pressing harder into him.
“It’s my job to take care you; not the other way around.” I reminded, and I felt him shift as he turned to looked at me; felt the heat of his unhurried breaths tickle through my hair.
“Just ‘cause it’s not our job; doesn’t mean we don’ want to.” He replied, almost offended that he’d even needed to say it. I couldn’t help but still beneath his words, and he let his fingers pause, cradling my hand delicately in his. Once more, I found myself amazed by how deeply he cared for those around him; how unashamed he was in voicing that love.
Driven by a flood of affection and gratitude, I reached out to take one of his massive hands in mine and gently drew it to my lips. Touch lingering long enough to memorize the feel of every nick decorating the collage of scars atop his knuckles, I shifted just enough to meet his gaze, letting my cheek rest thoughtlessly against him.
“Thank you, Wrecker.” He didn’t respond for a long moment, breath stilling in his chest before quickly turning his attention away from me.
“Yeah… yeah ‘course.” He nearly stammered. “Uh… here – should probably eat while yuh can.” His free hand stretched out behind him to retrieve the forgotten ration. I let out a quiet chuckle as I released him to take it.
“I’ll, uh… check on Tech.” He offered, cheeks still flushing as he absently grabbed the med scanner and turned away. I’d only just begun nibbling on the bar when he spoke again, voice lowering with a worry that sent a chill through my veins. “Uh… Doc?”

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Weird ask but how does the Bad Batch deal with an s/o who is dealing with insomnia. Like they just can’t sleep and it’s driving them crazy. Feel free to ignore if you’re busy 💜
Hey guess what problems I've been having lately 😭 Remembered I had this prompt waiting and thought I'd give myself and anyone else who needs it a little Bad Batch comfort tonight... 🌙
Hunter is a light sleeper, so he's immediately aware when you start tossing and turning next to him. He has his own little tricks to help him fall asleep, and he'll patiently walk you through them until you start to drift yourself. Whether it's a breathing exercise, tensing and relaxing muscles, or switching out the sheets for cooler ones, he always seems to know exactly what will work for the given circumstance. His best trick though, he reserves for himself, which is simply having you sleep beside him. Hearing the familiar pattern of your quiet breathing at his side is the easiest way for him to fall asleep himself.
Wrecker turns to the art of distraction. Rather than letting you fight to fall asleep, he pulls you from the bed and gets you focusing on other things. Maybe he'll drive you around town and ask random questions about your childhood, or he'll dance with you in the kitchen while a some cookies bake, or he'll pull out a dusty old board game and laugh as you try to figure out the rules. At some point, all the activity will tire you out and he'll carry your drooping form back into bed, smiling as he falls asleep curled around you.
Tech, obviously, wants to take a scientific approach. He'll start with a simple Q-and-A to gauge whether this is a one-off bad night, or part of an unhealthy pattern that needs to be addressed. However, his plans to diagnose end up derailing after this point, since the two of you end up continuing to talk about all sorts of things... You can't help it, you both just love to chit-chat. He'll brew some chamomile tea and wrap a blanket around the two of you... and eventually the conversation will peter out, and you'll end up asleep in each other's arms.
Crosshair often struggles with sleepless nights himself, but when he sees you struggling, too, he's going to push aside his own weariness to help you fall asleep. His go-to is a nice calming walk, even if it's dark and chilly outside, just the combination of fresh air and stretching limbs feels nice. If it's still not enough, he'll then try some massages or a warm bubble bath (and maybe some other intimate activities). Anything that helps soothe away all that pent up frustration from the night, so even if you and him don't fully fall asleep, you'll still feel rested.
Echo is all snuggles and softness. He'll pull you over to his side of the bed and hold you close, running soothing hands over your back and combing fingers through your hair. He'll start by talking, quiet little comments about random things that pop into his head. Bonus points if he can feel you smile against his chest. Then it'll turn to humming, or singing if you're lucky. If you're especially restless, he likes making up songs about how energetic you feel and how you can't close your eyes, a weird form of reverse psychology that surprisingly works like a charm every single time.
my life has turned into a horror movie ever since you put this pfp and now the header?? alanah, goodness, have mercy
No mercy here
Awww so cute!
I believe in Crossdad supremacy

hi! it’s me the new blogger lol. do you have any tips on how to start a one shot/story? i’ve got plots but i don’t know how to go into them… once again feel free to ignore this <3
Hello new blogger! Welcome back! 😃
Honestly, best piece of advice I have is to just start writing about whatever idea(s) you have. Even if it's just a sliver of an idea. Even if you don't start at the beginning. Even if you aren't sure how it might end. Doesn't matter. Start by breathing life/words into the ideas you do have.
I've found it's so much easier to start by drafting out whatever you possibly can first, and then circle back to edit it. If you try to edit as you go, or try to have a full-fledged plan for a story before you even start, then you likely won't get very far. In fact, you probably won't know what exactly you're writing until you've already written it! Creativity likes to be spontaneous like that.
Fanfic is cool in that it gives you space to play around with things, too. You can write one shots or drabbles or whatever... little scenes that don't need to connect to a bigger plot, or even have a plot at all. It could simply be a snapshot into a character's inner world, or a description of a person or place, or a brief conversation, or filling in the blanks of a story. You can always share whatever disjointed scene you want, and never and not have to worry about anyone being disappointed or confused.
And over time, as you get your creative juices flowing, you may find ways to connect your scenes, or ways to expand them into something more. Or you may find those snippets were never meant to be bigger stories, but they'll have given you inspiration for another idea that is.
And if you ever feel like you don't have ideas but still want to write, you can always ask for requests or get a prompt book or something and see what comes from that.