A/N - This oneshot is partially inspired by the awesome story 'Razor Burn' by UnfathomableFandoms (beta'd by RadicalCat) and my own experience as well :P. I love writing this whole awkward genre, mainly because I can relate, but especially with some annoyed Ezra thrown in for good measure.

This story will be a multitude of short oneshots all in the same timeline as 'Use the Force, Bridger' (about two months afterwards). So you can call it a sequel if you want, as it will reference that. Although this story will be a bit... Cleaner (but not by much ^-^).

A normal morning aboard the Ghost.

Kanan was up uber early trying to fix the kaff machine, so he could get his fix before going into withdrawal. A drowsy Hera was in the cockpit trying to lure Chopper out of his charging station with the promise of an oil bath - one that was never fulfilled. Sabine was still painting a new mural in the commons from the night before, which despite her best efforts, was still unfinished. That left Zeb and Ezra, who were always last up. The rest of the crew knew about Zeb's sleeping patterns - Lasan had a very short day, so many of the species slept for over 15 hours at a time. Ezra on the other hand, was a human teenager, with some of the most erratic sleeping patterns in the galaxy - sometimes it would be spark out before the sun even set, and awake before it rose. Or it would be eyes wide open until the early hours, and then unconscious for almost 20. Today was one of the latter, and it wasn't until Zeb arose loudly that Ezra actually slid his eyelids open to peek into the brave new world of breakfast.

Stumbling awkwardly off the ladder on his bunk, the kid soon found a pair of lounge pants and a vest to slip on while he was still waking up. Regaining his balance, Ezra sauntered through the door and yawned as he entered the small kitchenette the Ghost had, where the rest of the crew had united around the plastisteel table attached to the floor.

"Mmm, Anyone got some waffles? Cereal maybe?" Ezra slurred in a drunken sounding tone. The crew had noticed he kept waking up sounding like he'd been drugged, but asked no questions on the subject.

"Yeah, sure kid. Want some Blue milk too?" A feminine voice asked. Ezra rubbed his eyes lightly as his vision adjusted to the bright light.

"Ya, sounds -" He yawned again, loudly "- sounds great." He finished, satisfied. Grabbing a bowl and spork, he took a seat at the table and started helping himself to the triangular waffles that had been prepared, not noticing the amused looks he was getting from his fellow shipmates. It wasn't until he heard a muffled giggle from Sabine that he looked up.

"What is it?" He sounded genuinely puzzled, "Is there something on my face?" His brow furrowed and he glared towards Zeb. "What did you do?"

"Well there's something on your face, kid. But none of us put it there." replied Zeb, with the ever-present pisstaking tone Ezra had grown sooooo fond of, gesturing just below his nose, but above his upper lip.

Ezra's hand immediately shot up to where he was indicating too, accidentally applying too much force and slapping himself a little, earning a quiet 'Oww' from him and a murmur of laughter around the table. He started feeling around the area, and it felt weird - almost furry? - His eyes widened as his waking mind realised and he blushed a violent red. The rest of the Rebel band saw his reaction and laughed loudly.

Really? A cheesy Tache? Ahh, leave it to puberty to sort out the most uncomfortable situations for a kid. Ezra thought to himself, maintaining his frown. Sure, his crew were a nice bunch but boy, could they be a pain up the backside.

"Ok guys, fun's up. Time to get back to maintenance. Let the kid marvel at his facial hair in peace." chuckled Hera, earning what could only be described as a 'grateful frown' from Ezra, still clutching his face. "What? Just trying to save your blushes, we don't want another embarrassing incident again now, do we?" Ezra's frown deepened, and any gratitude was lost. He didn't want that whole escapade in anyone's recent memory, let alone them all actively teasing him again.

The crew however took pity and sifted out, leaving Ezra in relative silence to mull over his waffles and think about asking to borrow someone's Razor.

This story is purely for fun so expect updates to be erratic, but fairly often, as I enjoy this style.

Depending on whether I feel the Mystery piece I'm working on becomes successful, that'll be my predominant focus for now. But if I don't enjoy writing it, I'm switch over to this guy.

Cheers for your continued support!

- AliveO.