AUGH I Love This - Tumblr Posts
"A Cup Of Caf"
The Bad Batch CROSSHAIR One Shot
Crosshair x NON GENDERED Reader (PLEASE put YOURSELF into this story! <3)
Background: Crosshair makes it to Pabu with all of his brothers and sister. Will he open himself up to another? What's his future there?
Word Count: 2.1K
Warning: Really none. This is sweetness, some angsty fluff, and character growth. Purposely wrote this piece for ANY reader! You can take this tale as friendship or the start of a blossoming love relationship. And, I purposely wrote NO GENDER/NO SPECIFIC SEXUALITY/POSSIBLY EVEN AGENDER into this story. It's about healing, sharing, growing, and decisions at one of many crossroads in life. Sometimes it's painful, but growth can be.
This One Shot is dedicated to Crosshair Fans, those of you struggling with hard decisions in life, loneliness, and to the amazing @lightspringrain whose art was one of my inspirations for this story.
(Her Etsy shop: https://www.etsy.com/shop/LightSpringRain Just placed my order for the holidays!
(Credit: Dividers by the talented @saradika)
The leaves of the Cascade Tree rippled lazily in the ocean breeze. Its boughs lifted just enough to reveal a man with a scarred head sitting under its canopy at the picnic table.
You were surprised to see someone sitting there at... “your” table. Not really yours, but no one else ever came down this far from the cliffs to watch the surf foam and roil against the shores of Pabu. Every morning walking down to enjoy your cup of caf before starting the day. Today, you were testing out a new mug, fresh off the pottery wheel: Jet black clay with metallic silver phases of the moon depicted in striking detail across its surface. Debated selling this piece, hardly ever keeping anything for yourself.
The man’s back was facing you at quiet approach. He side-eyed you suspiciously, scowling. Immediately recognized him as the newcomer to the island that arrived with his brothers and one sister. Phee Genoa gushed about the one named, “Tech”. She called him “Brown Eyes”. This was the “Grumpy Brother” and was already gaining a reputation as anti-social.
“Uh...hi.”
Silence and unchanging side-eye. He didn’t move from the spot and clearly wanted to be left alone.
“Ok, leaving.”
No reply. He turned back around to stare at the crashing surf.
The next morning you arrived with your fully vetted new mug of caf to find...The Grumpy Man back in “your” spot.
Kriff...what to do? This was awkward. While feeling rather put out and wanting to sit alone, you kind of felt for the guy. The gossip around town was he had been through a lot before arriving in Pabu.
Looking down at the untouched cup of caf: How many people, yourself included, came to this planet looking for solace and safety? How many of the residents of Pabu arrived with baggage before they healed and found community here? How long did it take to be comfortable with others again?
Your heart went out to the man all by himself sitting there. It was an amazing view and perfect place to be alone.
He turned, almost like he had heard your brain humming. Again, scowling over his shoulder. You stepped closer, but he didn’t budge and kept the suspicious side-eye. You approached the table and set the steaming mug next to him.
He seemed briefly surprised, with his features softening slightly.
“Good morning, have a fresh cup on me.”
You awkwardly walked away, leaving him alone with the caf. Heart hammering in your chest.
After closing the pottery studio, you decided to stop by “your” spot on the way home. The Grumpy Man was gone, but the mug was in the same position you left it. You assumed he thought it a weird gesture and refused to touch the mug. But you realized the coffee was gone and there was something in the bottom of the mug. Turning it upside down, a seashell fell out. A very pretty one too. It brought a smile to your face.
Next morning, you looked forward to engaging with Grumpy Man again. The black and silver mug was washed and filled with hot caf for him. Stopping at the local bakery you purchased a large cinnamon pastry on the way.
Grumpy was there. He didn’t turn when approached. You set the mug with the pastry perched on top of it next to him.
“Enjoy.” Walking away.
“Did you like it?” His voice was low, raspy, snakelike.
“What?” Stopping in your tracks and turning slightly to answer. “Oh...yes. Thank you.”
“Hmmm...”
That was all. He said no more and kept his eyes on the crashing surf.
You left and walked onward to the studio.
After close, you walked back to retrieve the mug. It was empty of coffee and now and contained freshly picked flowers.
This carried on for several weeks. Every morning you brought him fresh caf and something to eat. After all, he was skin and bones. Every day something different: a fat muffin, breakfast sandwich, fruit, grain-meal with honey, meats, cheeses, brunch cookies. It was a culinary journey of Pabu, as you picked up things from local shops, or even threw together items from memory of family recipes.
It was almost an obsession to keep this man guessing the food he would be eating. Local shopkeepers noticed you out and about more, enquiring about your sudden social spree. Tongues were starting to wag on the island. You didn’t pay attention to gossip and could care less.
Grumpy seemed to have a decent appetite. You were quite sure he was indeed consuming the food. Of course, he could have thrown it down the ravine to the fish and sea birds, and you would be none the wiser. It was obviously evident his man was thriving as he filled out, less bony, skin no longer a sickly pallor, and his hair was growing back. Hair as silver as the moon.
Every evening he would leave something in the mug as a gift. An unspoken thanks for your kindness:
The split egg of a sea bird, a marine fossil stone, polished sea glass, a cascade tree seed, feathers, bleached bones, a preserved Pabu Butterfly with striking iridescent wings. He even left odd items that suggested a sense of humor. The persnickety land crab attempting to fight you for the mug as its new home. The small octopus bobbing in the salt water filled cup...who inked you in the face.
Every day was a welcome surprise.
You sat the mug and Meiloorun next to Grumpy. There were two covered plates on the table.
He turned around to look you square in the eye. “Sit with me.” It wasn’t a question, but not an order either. “Please.”
This was surprising and you settled in next to Grumpy on the bench.
He slid over a plate and uncovered it: Two stacked grain cakes with a whipped dairy smile and two berry eyes. They were doused in rainbow candy sprinkles, sitting in a huge amount of sugary syrup.
“Wow...uh. I didn’t take you for a happy face kinda guy.” Suddenly regretting the remark and holding your breath.
He rolled his eyes and exhaled. “My sister made them. SOMEONE in town tipped her off that I’m not alone during my ‘Alone Time’.”
You burst out laughing. How could you not?
“Gets better.” He uncovered the second plate: Two cooked sea bird eggs sunny side up with strips of cooked meat centered below them. The “food face” was doused in ketchup to resemble a bullet hole to the head hemorrhaging blood. “I’m more on board with this design.”
You howled with laughter. Grumpy cracked a small smile.
“YOUR sister did THIS??? THAT innocent child?”
“Mhm...” He snickered. “Never. She breathes and farts rainbows. This is my brother's masterpiece.”
The rainbow remark had you roaring again. Wiping away tears. His delivery was so unexpected.
He handed you a fork. Now that ALL his face was visible, you noticed the tattoo.
He produced his own fork. “Let's stab out the eyes and feast upon their faces.”
“Wait!” You lifted the mug of caf. “First, we must drink the blood of our enemies and share the names of the victors.” You were feeling giddy now...never considered maybe taking this Imagined Breakfast Massacre too seriously.
It didn’t seem to matter to Grumpy. In fact, he was smiling.
“Y/N” You took a healthy sip of the caf and passed the mug to him.
“Crosshair” He gulped the caf, giving you a mischievous look.
From that morning on you brought the cup of caf to share and HE brought the food. His sister and brother would cook or bake for Crosshair and “his friend”. According to him, they were overjoyed that he had not been spending his quiet days alone. Then started incorporating his own ideas into the recipes. Crosshair would regale you with “Tales of the Kitchen” interactions with him and his siblings as they cooked. He shared secret ingredients, always asked your opinion on the recipes, and how they could be improved.
However, after the food was eaten and the chatter died he would stare wistfully at the ocean. Deep in thought, mulling over something. You would ask and he would deflect with another topic. Not wanting to push things, you let it go.
This sharing of food and caf carried on for several months. Sometimes you were able to get bits of information out of him: He was a military man before coming to Pabu and was in a special highly trained squad. You asked about his mother and father. He shrugged and said his parentage didn’t matter and that only his sister and brothers were important. You carefully asked about the scar on the right side of his head, now fully covered with thick, unruly silver hair. He glossed over it as an injury and no big deal. He deflected by asking you about yourself. This man was perfectly happy to talk less and hear you speak more. He listened intently and threw brief tidbits in and sometimes his signature “Mmhmm.”
Still, he seemed haunted by something and absolutely refused to talk about it. You sensed it never really left his mind and constantly grappled with something deep. Something he regretted with all his being.
You both sat at the table watching the surf, taking turns sipping from the mug of caf. The breakfast platter was eaten and empty. He was unusually quiet.
Then he finally spoke. “I’m leaving Pabu.”
“What?” You, shocked. It seemed so sudden. “Why???”
“I...” He sighed and looked down at the table. “Need to make amends for certain...things.” His expression was one of thinly veiled shame.
“Don’t know what to say...” Struggling for words. “How long will you be gone?”
“I’m not coming back.” His brows furrowed sadly. There was a lot of emotion, and you could see the difficulty he had expressing it.
Speechless, you stared ahead and watched the surf pull away from the shoreline. There would be no more shared caf and breakfasts with this man. The days of looking forward with anticipation to the mornings would end.
You both sat for some time in silence, listening to the waves. In...out...in...out...as if the island was breathing.
Finally, you felt his gaze. Turning to meet the saddest, deepest brown eyes. Such a pitiful yet touching display that hit you even harder in the gut.
“I’m...grateful to have shared the time we had together. I don’t say that lightly.” His hand slowly advanced palm up on the table begging to be joined with another.
You slid your hand in his and squeezed. “I’ll miss you.” Tears forming in your eyes.
He squeezed back, nodded, then let go. Getting up from the table he whispered “Goodbye.”
“Take this! I made it for you...even if I hadn’t known it yet.” You handed him the empty mug.
He took it with a look of surprise. Then he turned away before you could see the tears in his eyes.
But you saw them. You will never forget that.
Then he was gone.
You sat the rest of the day listening to the ocean breathe. Watching the sun make its progression across the sky, finally dipping below the horizon. You walked home under the stars of Pabu...one of them a low fast-moving light: A ship departing the planet.
Sleep was fretful. Finally frustrated with tossing and turning, you got up, dressed and walked to the studio. Firing up the lights, set the holo on your favorite “create playlist”, and sitting down at the potter’s wheel. Tonight, there would be a new design even if it meant staying up all night to mold, dry, glaze, and fire this creation. You threw yourself into the task, singing, and occasionally wiping away a stray tear.
The sun rose over Pabu. You washed out the new creation: A mug of blazing crimson red, raised relief of the sun, with a magnificent metallic gold corona. Fresh caf brewed in the studio. You poured it steaming hot into the mug. Then closed the studio for the day, leaving a message in the window when it would reopen, and proceeded down to “your” table.
You expected to be alone once again...however...there was someone sitting under the Cascade Tree.
She was blond, dark skinned and looked to be a young teenager. You could tell she had been crying.
“Hello?”
“Sorry...Just wanted some privacy. My brother would come here to sit and be alone.” She moved to get up.
“You don’t have to leave. Please stay.”
She spied the mug in your hand, and the pieces fell into place.
“You’re Y/N!” Her eyes widened. “He talked about you a LOT. He’s never done that with anyone before.”
Warm intense feelings welled up inside you. They spilled out across your face in a smile.
“What’s your name?”
“Omega.”
You set the mug of caf down in front of her.
“Well Omega, looks like I made this for you...even though I hadn’t known it yet.”
PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!
Hair and beards
(Bonus Rob under the cut)
Stone took a 2 week vacation and he decided to cut his own hair, safe to say it's not going well
Quintessence means to be the most perfect of something. I can't stop thinking about that definition, for a variety of reasons and let me tell you why.
Aether being the most perfect in his mates eyes, his laugh and smile. His curve and his belly, how he presents himself even in the most vulnerable state of his being. To his mates he is the most perfect, he is stunning even in their eyes.
Omega feeling down in his body and absolutely hating how he looks, Terzo and Alpha worshipping every inch of it and whispering soft praises into his skin as they slowly take him apart and make him feel so loved and cherished.
Phantom who was insecure and worried about how the others will take to him, his pack mates pulling him into soft embraces and whispering praises and secrets into his skin as he allows himself to relax and be at peace with himself.
All three of these ghouls are the absolute definition of quintessence,they have a beauty so strong that even the stars can't rival how they look. To their pack mates they are the definition of perfection and beauty even in their most vulnerable and lowest states.