#Reflecting probably like how I have been lately so it just goes with my mood lol

[hayyie]

[ 26/1 ] I missed drawing traditionally, so I went with the usual mechanic pens and pastels. I hope that you like it..!

#Broly #DBZ Broly #Z Broly #broly the legendary super saiyan #Dragon Ball #DBZ #My Art #Uh pls wait until it’s fully loaded on best quality #Full view is recommended #I had to make it… like that or else he will look so n/aked lol #I don’t know how to describe it but you get me #Just the rotten broccoli in a pensive mood #Reflecting probably like how I have been lately so it just goes with my mood lol #Anyways enjoy

[a-simple-imagine]

Bigender asian with pronoun fuckery

synopsis: you're a rising star at godu. just cracked the top ten but a budding relationship with jordan li may bring everything crumbling down

pairing: jordan li x fem!reader

words: 5.2k+

a/n - not sure how i feel about this but i am putting it out there. if this gets enough attention, I can work on another part that goes a little deeper?? I use all pronouns for Jordan but mainly they/them

WARNINGS - swearing and drug use

a groggy groan slips past your lips as you bury your face further into the gentle embrace of the pillow. it is early. too early. you have no clue what time it actually is but whatever the case may be, you weren't ready for the day to start just yet. it takes a moment to realise you're alone in this bed. you hadn't been when you fell asleep. it doesn't bother you too much though. they're probably just getting ready. that is until you hear a curse word muttered quietly; perhaps an attempt to not disturb you or maybe they just wanted to hide their frustration. "what are you doing?" your words half muttered into the pillow.

"rankings are out." that was it? rankings? you sometimes forget how competitive they can be. it's not like you're not interested. you've wanted that top spot since freshman year. alas, golden boy holds that spot and you'd never be a pretty blonde white boy if you tried. this semester you've been working extra hard. Everyone knows you're in the best chance of scoring a city contract if you can break the top ten but the seven? they want the best of the best. sure it's not impossible to be lower and also become part of the team, the deep managed it, but that was an anomaly. most supes just end up as walking advertisements for vought. and as much as you may enjoy the occasional acting class. you weren't here to end up on some CW show or a Netflix special. you were gonna make it into the seven. you were gonna prove to everyone that you are one of the best.

"who cares," you mumble, rolling onto your back and spreading your arms out wide.

"oh, so you don't care that you're now second."

"come back to bed." you urge. a silence seals the room until your brain catches up to what it just heard. did they say second? as in second place? as in one spot away from first? you didn't mishear that. sitting up, you eventually spy a feminine presenting Jordan sitting at her desk, illuminated by the blue glow of their tablet. their short bob falls to one side. a perfect backdrop for such a pretty face "Are you fucking with me?" they don't bother responding just shove the tablet out in your direction. grabbing it you see your school ID photo with a massive '#2' next to it. you blink a few times. scroll down a little. refresh the page. but again it's still there. it was real. "fuck"

"My thoughts exactly," Jordan reacts. you glimpse at them wondering what that comment means. it could merely be a jest or a reflection of their current mood. you take a moment to look at the rest of the list in search of their name. they were no longer top three. you found them sitting nicely at number five. double fuck. you had taken their spot. they're still top ten which most would be happy with but not Jordan. tossing the tablet aside, you drop back against the bed. letting your eyes fall closed. "we have class in like an hour."

"I don't need to go to class. I'm number two now," you press.

"not how that works," A dramatic groan falls past your lips, pulling the covers up over your head. bed sounded better than a morning lecture. you wish they would just join you or leave you be. "get out of my bed." Jordan huffs after a moment. "we're gonna be late." you don't move. you frankly don't care. "if you don't hurry up, no breakfast."

"fucks sake." you whine, emerging from beneath the darkness of the duvet. "fine. I'll let you buy me Jitterbean."

"thought so," they offer you a tight smile. you could never say no to a free treat before class. "chop-chop."

Drink in one hand, pastry in the other, you're feeling brighter as you stroll into class. Jordan trails behind you. they'd been usually quiet on the walk over. you put it down to all the attention you were attracting today. couldn't even walk across campus without people asking for pictures or saying hi. you weren't sure you liked it just yet but for right now it was fine. when you spot cate you offer a scrunched up smile which she quickly returns. you and cate had been friends since day one. something just clicked. "there she is," cate starts as you approach your usual spot in class. "the girl of the hour. you're literally all anyone can talk about."

"aren't i always," you tease.

"we're going out tonight"

"are you asking-" you begin as Dean Shetty strides into the room. guess brink was out today. "or telling me?"

"telling," cate's smile quirks up before she turns to focus on the class. guess that was the end of that conversation.

you linger by your desk as everyone else filters out of the room after class. Dean Shetty requested a word. you can't imagine what it's about. surely she isn't that bothered by your attempts at chatting through her lecture. you offer up an awkward little smile as you push off the desk you were leaning against; slowly making you way across the room. "so what have I done wrong?"

"you mean other than talking through the entire class," you internally cringe a little. maybe she was bothered by all the whispering. she watches you for a moment before continuing. "it is nothing like that. don't worry."

"then why am I here?"

"I just thought we should have a little chat." your brow furrows. what did you and the dean of an entire university have to discuss? was this about your ranking? was she about to tell you there had been a mistake? "I believe congratulations are in order- such an extensive jump in ranking, you must be proud."

this felt like a conversation that could have been an email. "sure. thanks." you shrug. you're not really sure what to say. of course, you're proud. you were the second highest ranked student in a school of exceptional kids. "is that all?"

"no," her head shakes a little. I wanted to make sure you understand the gravity of the position you're in." when you don't respond she decides to just continue. "being a superhero is about more than just your abilities. it's also about how you present yourself. people care about you. they wanna know what you're doing. who you're hanging out with. One minute you're taking a picture with a nice girl you met at a party the next you're fighting nazi allegations for hanging out with a white supremacist. do you get what I'm saying?"

you shrug. "don't hang out with nazis, got it."

"I'm saying you need to look at yourself more like a brand. Be careful about what you say and who you spend your time with. you're the sum of the people around you."

"I know. I took branding." everyone knew how this worked. being a good person only took you so far and if homelander was anything to go off, that doesn't even matter that much. it's all about how you market yourself. it's about how many followers you have. how much attention you can get. inevitably, how much money can you make for Vought? Dean Shetty smiles but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"you do want to be number one, correct?" you nod a little. "I want to help you get to the top but only if you wanna help yourself."

"what about Luke?"

"he is far from my concern right now." what did that even mean? "so?"

you hesitate. you did want this but you weren't entirely sure what you were agreeing to here. If Dean Shetty can help you secure first place though, maybe it was worth the risk. she was an expert here. should you even bother questioning why the sudden interest in you? "I want this."

"Good," her smile seemed more genuine now. "I know you can go far, just keep in mind what I said."

"I will," you start edging towards the stuff you left on your desk. "thanks."

"also try listening during lectures. I'm sure you and Miss Dunlap can talk some other time."

"Sorry." with that you practically run out of the classroom before she can continue talking.

it's a particularly chilly night smushed in the back seat of an old car. bright lights zoom past the window and music blasts through the speakers. you're not really paying attention to the noise around you. it's a mess of meaningless conversation. Dean Shetty's words play over in your head. She certainly would not approve of this little venture out into the night past curfew; what she didn't know couldn't hurt her. Jordan eventually pulls your attention; in his hand, he holds two small red pills. you don't really question it before popping one into your mouth. a second for later. tonight was gonna be fun or if nothing else you can abuse enough substances to pretend. the secret location is just a massive warehouse. on the outside, you'd think it any old thing. inside you find massive tanks of rainbow fish, long sweeping curtains, jester-themed masquerade masks and other eccentric decor. it is the most random selection and yet it works so well. creates the perfect balance of sexy and mysterious but inviting. you find yourself in a booth with your friends all around. "so how's being number two going for ya?" Andre asks. "feeling the pressure yet?"

"I don't know," you shrug. "people are weird."

"what do you mean?" Luke questions.

"Dean Shetty said some things to me after class."

"-I come bearing gifts." Jordan appears, now in their feminine form with a couple of drinks followed by Marie. "courtesy of the young gentleman at the bar."

"What did Dean Shetty say?"

"it doesn't matter." you shrug it off. "two will never be one right."

"has it not hit yet?" Jordan wonders.

"i know what it's like to suddenly have all this pressure on you but try not to think about it much," Luke reassures you. "just keep doing what you're doing. you've got this."

"my guy. you're supposed to be happy here," Andre leans forward slapping his hand against your leg. "we're out here celebrating you, dude. cheer up."

"I'm plenty happy," you grumble sinking further into your seat. you appreciate their attempt to cheer you up but it's honestly not needed. you're happy to be in second place even with all the newly founded pressure; just a little confused about what was expected of you. "ecstatic even. let's talk about something else."

your head feels fuzzy. nothing feels real anymore. but it's good. great even. you feel so fucking good. like you've rid yourself of every lingering thought that wrapped itself around your body. you're light. you're free. the shimmering blue of the giant fish tanks is so mesmerising; you almost want to climb in but instead, you watch. colours morphing and shifting before your eyes. back and forth. back and forth. you jump a little as something touches your shoulder. "here you are." their words seem distant; muffled even. "you good?" you nod a little continuing to stare at the fish. two hands slip around your waist and connect in front. you feel their body press into yours from behind. you know it's Jordan. you know they're masc. You know them well. their smokey cologne. the way their body feels around you. the subtle differences between both forms. taller. bigger. firm. you let out a content hum. it's a rarity for such open affection. "what are you doing?" whispered in your ear.

"Just watching the fish,"

"why?"

"do you ever wonder what it would be like to be a fish?" you wonder softly. "to just swim around all day without a care in the world… no complex family systems. no pressure to be the best. just… swimming and pretty colours." their chuckle is temperate. affectionate. it almost seems like they somehow get closer.

"you're fucked, huh?"

"I'm good. I'm great," you respond. they just chuckle again, planting a soft kiss on your shoulder. your relationship with Jordan was hardly one of romance. you have slept together. a few times actually. and some kind of feelings are there; at least for you there are but you're not dating. you're just… having fun. maybe you want more. who knows? you don't. would they even want more? probably not. you'd like it. maybe. doesn't matter. they make you feel warm. safe even. and that's all that really matters.

"shall we get you a drink?" you nod a little. "yeah?"

"yeah," you repeat nodding more eagerly. a dopey smile settling on your lips as you let your head fall back; nuzzling against him. "something fruity, please."

"let's get you something fruity," arms vacate your waist replaced with a hand in yours.

"bye fishies," you throw a wave back. "say bye Jordan."

"Absolutely not." they interlock your fingers before leading the way back into the turbulent crowd of the club.

"you're no fun." you groan playfully. weaving through the mass of people back towards the bar, you come across cate. as you approach, Jordan let's go.

"you found her then," shouted over the heavy bass and mess of voices.

"she was alone staring at the fish tanks," they respond.

"the fish were really pretty," you contribute with a bright smile.

"you gotta stop running off, silly."

"but the fishies-"

"I know they're pretty but still," cate continues. "do you wanna come dance?"

"hmmm… yes." you respond brightly. "jordan's gonna get me a drink. jordan get cate one too."

"yeah Jordan, get cate one too." cate repeats playfully. her hand slides into yours and she pulls you towards the dance floor. it's a lot of blurred colours as you sway and move alongside the blonde. she wears a playful smile and smells so good. really sweet. like freshly baked cookies. "are you good?"

"mhmm,"

"you sure?" it's so loud out here. there are so many people around you. it's hard to pick up what is being said.

"I am so good, cate," you respond loudly. "I mean definitely fucked but yeah. are you good?"

"yeah," she nods. "I'm-" the rest of her sentence is impossible to comprehend.

"what?"

cate places her hands on your shoulders bringing you to a stop as she leans in extra close. "i said i'm proud of you."

"you're starting to sound like my mom," you joke. she playfully hits your arm. "but thank you."

"i think you could actually take luke's spot."

"i definitely can." you declare proudly. "dean shetty offered to help."

"really?" cate seems shocked by the idea. "why?"

you shrug. "i'm gonna be in the seven one day." you yell loudly. nobody cares. everyone is being loud. it'd drowned out by everything else. cate stares at you for a moment before letting her smile return.

"fuck yeah, you are," cate shouts. your smile brightens. fuck yeah, you are.

your head pounds with the weight of your bad decisions. maybe you went a little too hard. Nausea settles deep in the pit of your stomach. you think you're gonna throw up. you don't. you breathe deeply through it. a long groan forces its way past your lips as you roll onto your back; stretching out your limbs as far as they go to very little relief. A pain radiates from your left leg. god only knows why. you're just a little achy. how did you even get here? the last thing you remember is dancing with Cate; having fun.

"she's alive," the voice catches you off guard. it sounds like… wait. your eyes finally focus on the person in the room who definitely wasn't your roommate. that black hair. that pretty face. the effortless expression of too cool to be here. jordan li is still in the exact same outfit as last night. why were they here? "how's our newest celebrity?"

there were many ways you could answer but your brain could only come up with. "shitty."

"I bet," they approach the end of your bed, holding out a glass of water. "here."

you slowly push yourself up into a seated position. trying desperately to ignore the intense pressure building in your head. "why are you here?" you ask, accepting the glass and taking a long, big gulp.

"Jordan stayed all night," your roommate, Beth, interjects. By her tone, she was not happy with your newfound company. "would have been nice to know."

"I'm allowed to have people in our room, Beth." you hand the glass back to Jordan before falling back down against the bed. rubbing your eyes with your thumb and forefinger. "I wanna die."

"tell me next time." Beth continues to argue. "instead I wake up to a stranger in our room."

you groan loudly. this was too much talking for your poor delicate head to handle right now. "I'm right here, guys," Jordan insists. "I literally spoke to you last night."

"I'm making a point." your roommate argues. "I'd like a heads up."

"gooooood! okay- sorry," you groan. you really don't care this much

"Okay, well, I gotta go," Jordan hums. "wasn't supposed to stay this long just wanted to make sure you're cool."

"I'm fine. go," you wave a dismissive hand as your eyes flutter close. "thanks for getting me home."

"any time," their weight leaves the bed and you roll onto your side to face the wall. pulling the duvet closer around your body. "I'll text you- bye Beth."

"bye Jordan." you hear the door click and an uncomfortable silence fills the room. it's preferable to the loud conversation that just happened. it's a relief to your head. you just want to go back to sleep. "they must really like you."

urgh. you don't want to talk anymore. "yeah, jordans cool."

"no, I mean, they like you," Beth continues on. you bury yourself further into your cocoon of pillows and duvet. "stayed the whole night just to keep an eye on you. I said it was fine- you'd be fine but they insisted."

Jordan insisted? just how fucked up were you that Jordan li of all people would stay the night just to make sure you were okay? you guys were good friends but most of the time they were either bullying you or treating you like a child which is like a subset of bullying you. you remember them wrapping their arms around you as you watched the fish last night. you've seen Jordan's softer side obviously but yeah. "we're just friends, dude."

"All I know is that Jordan li, as far as I've seen and heard, would not do that for just anyone. they're into you."

"sure. fine. whatever." you growl. you just wanted this conversation to end. Jordan was cool but if you think about this for too long your head is gonna explode. right now, sleep was what you needed. "Jordan Li is in love with me. I'm going back to sleep." it's hard not to think about what Beth suggested. that Jordan was into you as more than just a friend and occasionally fuck buddy. is that something you should talk about? What if Beth was wrong and you bring it up and it makes things super weird? you can't handle that. you have like a million classes together, you would never be able to escape them.

it was a bright sunny day in the quad of Godolkin University. you sit in the courtyard. a laptop, criminology textbooks and a water bottle spread across the table. you have an essay due in a few days. you had sat down to work on this essay multiple times with a beautiful blank document and many hours on TikTok to show for it. "hey," your TikTok time is interrupted by none other than Jordan Li. you had not seen them since that night or morning. you hadn't really spoken either. you weren't avoiding them by any means. you were just busy and they hadn't seemed too eager to talk so. "hey," they say after a moment. "how's the essay going?"

"so great," you flash a smile. "I've written so much."

"that good, huh," they joke awkwardly taking a sip of their coffee. you just hum in response. you need to get this done. no time to add Jordan to the list of distractions. after a few moments of silence, they speak up again. "I was hoping we could talk

"Can this wait? I really need to get this done."

"I guess…" Jordan trailed off. you look at him for a moment. he seems disheartened by your request.

"what's up?"

"it… doesn't matter. don't worry." a small smile settles on their lips. "I should go."

"you sure?"

Jordan pushes up from their seat. "I'll see you later."

that was weird. definitely something you need to come back to later when you're not working on a deadline. for now, you had an essay to, at the very least, start.

"Have you spoken to Jordan recently?" you ask Cate as you slide into a booth at the on-campus Vought - a - burger. the smell of deep-fried food hangs heavy in the air and you know damn well this table is probably gonna be sticky as hell. "I feel like they're ignoring me."

"What makes you think that?"

"the fact that they're quite literally ignoring me. I've text them a couple times and nothing. even in class, they can hardly look at me." you reach into the bag to pull out the food; placing it on napkins in front of you. cate hands you your drink in exchange for her order. "I feel bad. they tried to talk to me the other day but I wanted to get my essay done."

"they've seemed fine to me but I've been working on a project for my hero management class." Cate shrugs. "is this about what happened the other night?"

"what happened the other night?" you questioned, popping a fry into your mouth. it actually tasted fresh and salty; guess you came at the correct time. you hate it when they're all soggy.

"I don't know if it's my place to say- you were pretty high."

"did I do something… bad?" you didn't remember that night but you never imagined you would ever do something inappropriate.

"no. not bad." you can tell she regrets bringing this up; whatever this is. torn between wanting to help and not overstepping boundaries. She is about to continue when two girls approach the table. freshmen you presume. you've never seen them before.

"Can we get a selfie?" the taller of the two requests. you frown a little.

"we're actually trying to have a private con-"

"it'll just take a minute," they turn around and hold the camera out, snapping a picture before you have a chance to react. "thanks." they scurry off almost immediately. you'll probably find yourself tagged in a picture on Instagram later. it had been happening a lot recently; so much so that you had to turn notifications off.

"the fuck?" you share a confused look with Cate. "people are so rude."

"they're just excited. you're basically a celebrity to them," Cate chuckles.

"do you think Jordan hates me now?" you wonder bringing the conversation back to Li.

"it's probably just because of the rankings."

"you mean because I took their spot?"

"Jordan has always been pretty intense when it came to rankings. they've wanted that top spot for as long as I've known them." Cate explains, hiding her mouth as she shoves more food into her mouth. "must suck that you just jumped to two and have the dean in your corner no less." you never really considered how Jordan must be handling all this. you knew they'd be a little upset but this seemed extreme.

"I never really thought about that," you sigh softly. "should I apologise?"

"I don't know," Cate resumes, biting the head off some fries. "if you think it'd help."

"I don't know why they didn't just tell me that when we first found out," you frown a little. "they were a little distant but they seemed cool when we went out."

"maybe you should just try talking to them," Cate suggests, picking up her drink. She takes a swift sip before continuing. "if it's about rankings or the other night- I don't know. only Jordan does."

"what happened the other night?" you ask again.

"ask Jordan."

"I'm asking you, Cate."

"you were just a lot and said some things."

"Cate!" you huff, falling back. you know Cate well. you know when she's avoiding something. "I know you're being cryptic so I give up on it."

"it's just not my place. it's between you and Jordan. I don't wanna get in the middle." Cate presses sharply. "did you get your essay done?"

"no," you shake your head. "I ended up getting an extension- how am I supposed to speak to them when they're ignoring me?"

"i don't know- can we please talk about something else?" Cate pleads.

"Sure," you hum softly. taking another fry you dip it into some sauce. "let's talk about how I'm about to fail criminology."

you text Jordan that you're coming over. It wasn't a question but a statement. no option to refuse. you needed to sort this out and being direct was the best approach. did every inch of your body buzz with anxiety as you made your way towards their dorm room? yes. but it beat constantly thinking about every little interaction you had with Jordan in the past week trying to figure out exactly what you had done wrong. the only blank spot was that night and Cate had unintentionally convinced you that you had done something absolutely awful. maybe you told them you hate them or invalidated their identity in some way? fuck. you swallow hard staring at their closed door. you shake out the nerves before knocking. knock. knock. knock. and the door swings open to reveal Jordan. "hey," they hum before retreating into the safety of their dorm. shutting the door behind you, you step inside the all too familiar space; you had been here a great many times and yet today there was a weird vibe. it felt foreign. cold even. "so what did you wanna talk about?" for a split second you almost forgot why you were here. you turn to Jordan who is sitting on the couch, a laptop thrown off to the side now. your eyes fall to the homelander Vought-a-burger toy that has somehow become a staple of this room. leader of the seven. currently facing major allegations. "you good?"

"Are you mad at me?" you blurt out. "is it about the rankings? I know they mean a lot to you and I basically took your spot so I get it if you're mad. it's a little unfair because I've always wanted this too but like I get it." your rambling but you can't help yourself. you need to get this all out as quickly as possible before your brain catches on and you chicken out. "And I'm sorry about the other day, I just really needed to get my essay done. I ended up getting an extension because I was so stressed out about it, I just couldn't start." you can't bring yourself to look at them. "or if I did something shitty on that night out. I'm sorry. it was fucked-"

"whoa dude, chill out," Jordan ultimately interrupts. "you're talking a lot." you dare a glance at them. their face is pretty neutral so you have no clue what was going on in their head. "what are you even asking?"

"why are you avoiding me?" you ask. "I've clearly done something wrong."

a heavy sigh leaves their lips as they fall back against the plush fabric. "I'll admit I was a little annoyed with the rankings at first but I'm working on it. this is like a really big deal for you."

"so you're not mad at me?" you sound so pathetic. an even bigger sigh leaves their lips. you're not sure what that means but nobody sighs that heavily for good reason. they push to their feet, crossing the room towards you.

"I'm not mad at you," they say softly as they approach. for a second they hold your gaze as they linger close but then they flicker away. "I'm just… confused."

"About what?" they take a step closer. so close. too close. their hot breath pricks at your skin but you don't dare move away. you almost feel drawn to them.

"Is this okay?" they say quietly.

"Are you only doing this so we'll stop talking about it?" their head shakes just a little.

"no," their hand graces over your neck and up to the bottom of your jaw. Their thumb gently brushes your skin, sending a chill down your spine. there would always be something about Jordan Li that made you melt inside. when they're here and so close, you almost forget all your worries. the way they look at you. like you're the only person in the world. a feather-like embrace is enough to send you spinning. "I don't think I can just be your friend anymore," whispered against your lips. "I… like you too." they pull back.

"Jordan,"

"I need you to say it- I need you to say it sober so I don't feel like a fucking idiot," say it sober? when did you say it in the first place? maybe this was what Cate was talking about. the thing you couldn't remember. you admitted to having feelings for Jordan. fuck.

"I…" you trail off, the words are caught in your throat. this is gonna change everything?

"It's cool," they declare loudly, letting their hand fall as they away. "I get it."

"no Jordan-"

"no it's fine. you were fucked. it didn't mean anything- I shouldn't have said anything."

"Jordan," you say louder, reaching out for their hand. a deep regret fills your stomach. you liked Jordan. they meant a lot to you and you were throwing it all away because you were scared; terrified even. if this doesn't work out then you ruin everything. there's no coming back from this.

"don't," they yank their hand away. "please don't. I don't want your pity."

"It's not pity."

"I don't get you." they huff. "you're all over me and then you want nothing to do with me. you tell everyone you like me but then… nothing? it's… confusing-"

"Jordan just- stop please," you say loudly. "I… like you, okay?"

"don't say things you don't mean."

"I mean it," you say a tad more confidently. "I like you." you try to reach for them again. they let you take their hand. " i don't know what it means exactly but I do… like you… too." you squeeze their hand slightly. it's warm and fits so perfectly in yours. they turn back to you with a smile. a small genuine smile that fills you with butterflies. they really did mean so much to you.

"so… now what?" they ask.

"I don't know." you pursed your lips, shrugging your shoulders. "but I do have to go."

"Seriously?"

"I have a meeting with Dean Shetty." you express. "I'm sorry. She wants me at some dinner so."

#gen v #jordan li #jordan li x reader #jordan li x you #the boys #london thor #derek luh

[stars-n-spice]

So, this is it, huh?

I figured the least I could do was write something down before shit goes down because I know after tomorrow I don't think I'll be emotionally available to do or say much about the show and what it and the fanbase means to me.

The last few days, my mind has been a whirlwind of emotions and I don't think I've ever really suspended my disbelief since it was announced that this would be the last season.

I felt like Po honestly, in Kung Fu Panda 2, when he's like "But I just got Kung Fu!" when they're talking about Lord Shen making that weapon that straight-up kills people who practice Kung Fu (I'm going somewhere with this just bear with me-) because I'm fairly new to the animated shows of Star Wars fandom and didn't start hyperfixating on Bad Batch until midway through Season 2 while those episodes were still releasing.

So when they announced that the 3rd season was the final season I was devastated. "What do you mean no more Bad Batch? I just got Bad Batch!" - I didn't want to believe it.

But here we are. Final season. Final episode.

I can't describe how the obsession started. It just did.

When the first season was coming out, I was still on Season 6 of TCW, so I got into it a little late. Then when it was over I immediately jumped into watching Rebels and became utterly obsessed with that show while Bad Batch just stayed, "Oh, neat show I watched."

Then the second season came out. I don't know how or when or why but suddenly something just went off in my brain and I became obsessed. I became attached. I fell in love with Wrecker in a way that I've never once felt or experienced towards any other fictional character, or person for that matter. I grew to understand Crosshair on a deeper level that made my heart ache for him and made me reflect on my own past and choices. Echo became a comfort character and an anchor in my life in where he's the first thing I think of when I'm down to put myself in a better mood. Suddenly I was ready to give Omega the universe and everything good in it. Tech became a lifelife (ironically) a hope that despite how I am and who I am, I'm capable of loving and being loved. And recently I've become so incredibly attached to Hunter because as the oldest child of five as well, I know that crushing weight of responsibility. Of failing your siblings. Of trying to be better.

This squad. This family. Cheesy as it is, I can't describe what they mean to me but Force, I'll try.

Recently I've been wondering why I'm so attached to this show and these characters. Jokingly, part of it is yes, the Bad Batch are lovely to look at and that does play a role in why I enjoy watching the show so much, but that's not completely it.

I think I speak for a lot of us fans when I say that I didn't fit in as a kid. I still don't even as an 'adult.' Look, I'm a biracial guy from two VERY different cultures that don't feel like home to me. On top of that, half of the time I don't know how to identify myself in gender and sexuality because I don't feel either most of the time. I'm introverted. I have anxiety. I probably have autism. I'm a burnt-out former gifted kid. I quite simply don't fit in.

"No, I'll stay. You guys don't fit in here either."

That? Yeah.

This show is for all those kids. Everyone who never fit in. Everyone who was told they were strange or weird, for the kids who ate glue in the back of the classroom, who were told they were too loud, who were put down because they didn't express emotion a certain way, for the kids who sat alone at lunch, who got left behind in their friend groups, for the kids who felt like they had no one so turned to harmful things, for the kids who were told they were special only to be discarded later in life, for the kids who don't know their place, don't know where they fit in and if they even do or ever will.

It's a show that tells those kids you're more than that. You're worth it. You're worth loving. You're worth protecting. You're worth the second chance. You're worth being loyal to. You're worth teaching. You're worth forgiving. You're worth it. You're worth it. You're worth it.

In the end there's hope for us. There's hope for all of us. And I think that's why I cling to tightly to this show. Why it means so much to me. Why I so desperately need these characters to make it out alive.

It's what Star Wars was from the start. About hope. About family. About loving and being loved and learning to love despite your circumstances. It's a show that took a bunch of neurodivergent absolute daddies and packed in so much angst but also feel-good moments with stunning animation, beautiful, moving music, and phenomenal voice acting. It's a show I can't help but love and love immensely because it feels like it was written for me.

For that kid who spent their recesses with their nose buried in an animal encyclopedia or talking to imaginary characters from their favorite books. For that kid who always felt so utterly useless and hopeless whenever they got less than an A- for a grade because they were supposed to be the gifted one. For the kid who struggled so much to be the older sibling they never asked to be. For the kid who just wants to find someone, anyone, who will love them as they are and fight for them. For the kid who valued loyalty above all else, always has, always will, and never gets it in return. For the kid who never fit in.

And well, whatever happens in the finale, I'm so grateful, so blessed, and so honored to have been a part of this journey with all of you.

#i'm not ready #but whatever happens happens #and i'm lucky to have been here for it #love you all #thanks for everything #tbb #the bad batch #tbb s3 #tbb season 3 #clone force 99 #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb omega #max's musings

[bowieandqueen11]

I Missed You / Diego Hargreeves Imagine

Request: I know in your dating 60s!diego hargreeves hcs you briefly mentioned his and readers reunion, and cuddling in elliot’s apartment, so i was just wondering if you’d expand on that whole thing because man, he’d be lost for words 😩. im down bad for needy diego 😌

My LOVE honestly this is THE mood first I get DILF Diego and now needy Diego??? My heart cannot handle it!!

Warning: NSFW, light swearing, and mentions of the asylum/drugs!

(I do not own The Umbrella Academy or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @cardigan-ns.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

The late night drive felt never-ending, the car wheel stiff against your clenched hands, and Diego was crying.

Well, trying his best not to, you suppose. The effort just didn’t seem as successful as he was imagining it to be in his head. He could turn the back of his shaggy head to you and gaze out through the windows and into the blurring lamplights all he liked, but he couldn’t stop the way his shoulders were doing their best to heave and give his emotions away. The way you could spot how his bottom lip blubbered in the fractured image of his reflection. How, every so often, he would raise the back of his hand to wipe against his nose and block out the stifling sound of sniffling.

Despite how wracked he sounded, you knew he was just a mixture of euphoric and terrified. He was simultaneously over the moon that the love of his life had magically appeared in front of him with his tiny ass brother, but also still grieving over the fact that this was probably just another hallucination. ‘Stupid D-Diego’, he thinks, ‘being so easily tricked by this. By them. As if Y/n would ever come back for your stupid ass.’ Just another phantom dream, as so many before them. Soon he’d wake up, and find his arms tied around his sides again and his head battering around the padded rooms of his purgatory.

Although he tries to stop it, he can’t help but let out a pathetic sounding sob then. It catches in the back of his throat, making him sound even more like someone whose soul had been torn into two and patched back together with solely a despaired kind of hope. He frowns, tightening his arms around his sides and banging his head against the passenger side window. He prays that you haven’t heard him as he glances at the diners that whir by and the dry asphalt streets that blur into one long stretch of angry blackness against his blurred eyes, even if this was a dream. He wants to be strong for you, no matter if you’re real or a cruel mirage brought on by the drugs.

It’s a good thing you can read him so well. ‘Di-Di, it’s... it’s alright. We’re not at the asylum anymore, they can’t hurt you. I promise, I swear to god I’ll never let them touch you again. Plus, even better, Five has buggered off again to who knows where so we can finally focus on each other rather than the end of the world for five damn minutes-’ You’re stopped only by your feet automatically slamming down on the brakes in retaliation to Diego’s hand clamping down on top of yours on the wheel.

It takes you a moment to fully process that you’ve come to a stop, before you take a deep breath and glance over at the man sitting hunched over beside you. For the first time that night you really see him, and he looks horrendous. His face has paled, and the tired lines under his eyes seemed to have creased in so he looks like a tired child - frail and broken and dejected, crying out for just one fond and loving word. He’s twisted in his seat so he’s facing you again, the stolen shirt hugging his torso as he stares at you so intensely it nearly leaves you flustered. 

Not knowing what to do, you drum your fingers against the dashboard and wait to see if he wants to speak. You take a few side glances at him as he just leans closer and closer towards you, his pupils becoming wider and wider. It was a puzzling sight: Diego inching towards you like a hunter closing in on his prey, until you could feel his ribcage hit your elbow, but his eyes- his eyes were giving him away. Engrossed, they seemed to grow with profound awe that blurred into tears, so overcome by the knowledge that the angel who had command of his heart was sitting beside him.

He must have seen the confusion on your face as his eyes roamed over every aspect of your body. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a sharp intake of breath. Bless him, he looked so helpless as he leant forward to rest his forehead so tenderly against your own. His hands came up to cup your cheek, his large thumbs wiping over your skin as if you were the one crying instead of him. When he finally pulled back slightly, you could fully take in just how many tears were slipping out of the corners of his eyes and cascading down to hit the edges of his trembling smile.

‘I-. I m-m-missed y-you. Wh-where w-were you?’

‘I’m sorry I took so long. Dallas is a surprisingly big place, and it doesn’t help when you get arrested straight away. Although, I shouldn’t really be surprised you’d do something stupid when I’m talking to the man who was convinced by Klaus that cookies became poisonous as soon as you turn eight just because he wanted to eat all of them’, you reply with a sad grin, trying to affirm the breaking man in front of you by reaching out and resting your hands over his slender and trembling fingers. He snorts, but his smile grows all the brighter as you rub up and down the back of his palm, making sure to gently squeeze his wrists every time you pass them. ‘At least we have all the time in the world now to become reacquainted with each other.’ He rolls his eyes, but even you can pick up the way his thighs shuffle in his seat and his heart seems to choke him. ‘By the way... I like the beard. Looks very suave, which is one thing you are not.’

‘H-hey! I’m plenty s-s-so, sophis-ticated.’ 

‘Diego, you spend half your life running around in faux leather and running down alleyways like a bargain batman. You’re a big idiot, is what you are.’

That earns a laugh as he lets go of one of your hands to reach up and try to swipe away the rest of his tears. You don’t let him do it alone, instead using your own thumb to gingerly wipe under his eyes.

‘How about you and me go back home, huh? I know I said we had forever, but your weird ass little brother actually said something about your family bringing around another apocalypse. He had just downed ten cups of coffee though, which honestly was really impressive to watch but it also meant he was vibrating on the spot when he grabbed my collar and pulled me down to his face to spit that at me so I don’t even know.’

‘You sure you still want to marry into this family? I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to run the other direction’, Diego snuffles. You only push him back down onto his seat with a thump, reaching round his torso and making him put his seat belt back on. 

‘Diego, I’ve known you and your dumbass siblings since I was five years old, you already are my family. Plus, you know, you’ve stranded me in 1960′s Dallas so I’m stuck with your ass until you get me back.’ You start the car back up again, trying to figure out in your head your way back to Elliott’s place without Five being here to shout directions at you.

‘That’s my sexy pumpkin pie.’ You use your right hand to thwack his chest as he finally bursts out in the first real fit of laughter he’s had in months.

‘Ugh, do not start calling me that again, mama’s boy.’

~

Poor Luther.

All he could do was raise his eyebrows at Elliott and smile apologetically as yet another pair of pants smacked against the blurred glass of his bedroom window. ‘This is a lovely cup of tea’, he manages to fumble out as he takes a nervous sip. Elliot’s too shocked to even reply, just leaning back on his chair and staring at the window with his mouth agape.

‘Is your family... all... like this?’, he finally manages to blurt out, raising a finger to point in you and Diego’s general direction. ‘I mean, I met the one with the robot mother... and he was just as-’. His words are overshadowed by the sound of pealing giggles reverberating through the upper balcony, and the sound of his bed creaking under the weight of the two of you rolling over. ‘As frantic’, he finally manages to finish with a hard swallow.

‘Oh, those two?’, Luther starts with a shrug as he sets down his cup and saucer onto the living room table. ‘Those two are probably the most hectic out of all of us!’ His smile seems to portray a sense of pride in the two of you, but it quickly falls into a regretful tight lipped grimace as he watches how horrified Elliott becomes. He looks like he’s about to pass out as he stands up, holding his hand out in front of him as if he’s about to ask something important, but instead he just lets his eyes fall wide as he mumbles out. ‘I’m going to go buy some more jelly.’

‘Good idea, my friend!’, Luther stands up to slap him on the back. ‘If I’m being honest, I think I’d rather go with you if that’s alright. This could go on for a while.’

The sound of their receding footsteps down the slightly twisted staircase is overpowered only by the grunts of Diego as you roll over to straddle him. Your knees draw against his hip to hold him in place, and you can feel how much his body is burning against your skin as you reach up to hold his wrists above his head. Even though you’ve only been here for ten minutes he looks wrecked in the silent moonlight that pours through the sole window: his hair dishevelled like a brandy plumage, his lips red and swollen, and yet it didn’t stop him from trying to escape your grasp and reach up to try and reach your lips yet again. He pants as you push him back down, the engulfing silence of the night making the pounding of his heart all the more evident.

He whines as you lean down until your chest has covered his bare own and he feels your chin slide over his. He squirms under your body, a futile effort to gain some traction and quench the feeling of burning that alights the pit of his stomach with need. You bite down and tug his bottom lip when you see how his eyes have squeezed shut into a painful patience, earning you a gasp into your mouth and a growl that seems to grow from deep within his throat.

‘Did I tell you how much I missed you’, he pants as he finally manages to throw his thigh between yours and flip you down onto the mattress. He crawls over you, running his hands over every inch of skin on his way up: along your calves, biting them teasingly as he goes, skirting his fingertips along the edges of your thighs, splaying his fingers along your hips and squeezing before resting against your sides. 

‘I think you might have’, you manage to warble out against the feeling of Diego’s tongue swiping against the seam of your lips. His legs drive against your own with the force of how he kisses you, pushing you further against the duvet and trapping you against the expanse of his chest. It’s exhilarating and rushed, but full of all the passion and love and want that has been stored up within Diego’s soul since you were cruelly torn from him. 

He breaks away to nuzzle your neck with delicate kisses, so faint and heartfelt they seemed like whispered promises being etched into your skin. His beard though tickled your neck and broke the silence as you began to laugh, and you could feel his warm breath puff out against your shoulder blade in return. He pulls back to gaze down at you, all the adoration in the world bursting out of this whiskey, puppy dog eyes.

‘And did you know that I love you more than anything?’

‘Yeah’, you reach up to play with the curls of hair that lie against the nape of his neck. He closes his eyes in bliss and grunts as he’s enveloped by the brackets of your arms, before he collapses down on top of you to lie with his head under your chin. ‘I think I managed to get that idea.’

#the umbrella academy #tua #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves imagine #diego hargreeves x reader #tua imagine #the umbrella academy imagine #david castenada #diego tua #diego tua imagine #diego the umbrella academy #diego the umbrella academy imagine #tua season 2 #tua season 3 #tua season 1

[chemistryread]

she is both hellfire and holy water

- part VI

jake seresin

callsign: scorcher

part V

part IV

disclaimers/tags: female!reader!aviator. loverboy jake is vengeful. slowburn and angst.

word count: 5.2k

a/n: sorry again for the late update! i've been in a low mood and it reflects a bit on this chapter and the next, which i'm planning on posting very soon in a .5 type of chapter to make up for how long it took me to post again. anyway, as always please lmk your thoughts :)

tagging: @thedroneranger @shanimallina87 @peakascum @cherrycola27 @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @untoldshortsofthefandoms @thecraziestcrayon @lovingperfectionsblog @cornishkat @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @murdermornings @loveforaugust @scoopsr0bin @secretsicanthideanymore @sarcasm-n-insomnia

In the morning, Maverick wakes everyone up even earlier than they had hoped was necessary, for a surprise flight session.

"Where's Lieutenant Seresin?"

"Late, sir. He didn't come back to base last night."

Your eyes fall to the ground at Coyote's sentence.

You had a feeling, when he wasn't in the room being annoyingly good at waking up early. Another mark on the long list of things he excels at. But Rooster had distracted you long enough not to delve into it.

Turns out the idiot slept in his car. Roof down, parked under the bright morning light. His sunburn likening him to a lobster, he looked positively ridiculous.

"He'll pay for that when he gets here. Scorcher." Pete looks sorrowful. Penny must have told him about the kiss. You probably look like you're going to vomit. "You're my backseater today."

This is the best and fastest cure for your moral hangover. Up in the air, with Maverick.

It's more than honorable to sit behind Captain Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell, it's fullfilling. Every time you do, it feels like your life has purpose again.

After your WSO didn't survive an ejection, a lot of things went through your mind. One of which was never piloting another jet. Maverick took the spot in the back of your plane numerous times after the accident just so you could feel comfortable, believe in your own skills again.

It warranted a lot of patience from both of you, but he was right, it is what you're born to do. Actually, you don't know what else you're good at. So you'll forever be grateful for him taking time with a random student still in her academy days to make sure you at least tried to reach your potential.

Being his backseater is no chore, he's the most obvious natural talent you've ever met, which grants you the extraordinary experience of being able to watch your friend Pete do what he loves most without barely having to turn your neck.

The session goes smoothly, except for Phoenix and Bob underperforming. Off the comms, you tell Mav not to worry about it, you'll talk to Trace.

To your displeasure, you're not quite done yet.

"Good morning, everybody. Your entertainment is here, you can all wake up."

"Is that- Oh God."

"Not God, Payback. Just me. You should look up, though, I'm right above you. Wave back."

Your body slumps back on the seat, a helpless reaction to hearing his voice when you were hoping to avoid him for a few more hours, at least.

"Hangman, do not engage!"

That's weird. Your hands squeeze the straps, sitting up to look at the Captain, absorbing the exasperated language of his body.

"Excuse me, sir? I've got a lock!"

In trying to escape his jet, Payback found himself exactly where Jake wanted him.

"That's not the point. You're not a little late, training is nearly over! You get no flying time today, that's an ord-"

"Maverick, I'm here now! If I don't get these hours in-"

"That's it, no air time for two days." The comms are quiet, and you push the small mic away, putting a hand on your pilot's shoulder. Mav. "I repeat, Lieutenant Seresin, you're out."

"Captain, sir. It's eleven-hundred, there's at least-"

"I'm aware, Scorcher." You wince at his lack of composure, retreating when he addresses everyone again. "Everybody else, push harder. I'm not seeing enough out of you today."

The next fifty minutes are grueling, Maverick incessantly chasing every pilot out of their comfort zone. You're happy to sit behind him, speaking only when he asks you to.

No one complains, but you know they're simply holding back in front of their instructor. Sweaty and tense when they return to the ground.

You walk in front of Pete, catching Nat's 'thanks, Bagman' as she goes past the blonde. Jake is obediently waiting for Maverick's scolding, helmet in front of his body, head held high.

He only falters when you send him a sympathetic smile.

Even if he hides it well, you're aware that your old friend is someone Seresin has learned to admire, consequently looking for his approval.

When Rooster was picked for the uranium mission, you were equally proud and apprehensive for your friend. But your smile had dropped once your eyes landed on Hangman. It was a split-second slip up, his shoulders deflating before immediately raising again with a deep inhale, and you caught it.

You were watching him when you should've been looking at your actual friends, who had just been assigned to a major mission. Fascinated by his failure to hide the disappointment in his eyes, regardless of the rest of his body posing as unphased. Wondering how often he has to piece himself together with that same quickness.

Walking with a stupid grin on your face, the memory of the conversation you had hits you like a truck.

"Hey."

Basket of laundry supported by your hips, greeting soft on your lips before they return to the more common and less friendly thin line.

He stood in front of the washing machine in use, absentmindedly eating Oreos, correcting his posture when you come in and it pulls a discreet chuckle from you. Squinting at his furrowed brows and tense facial expressions.

Quietly dropping your clothes into the empty machine, the only sound in the room is that of the cycle starting.

"You know, Phoenix and Bob's chemistry is a huge strike of luck, silly not to take advantage of it. I think any of us could've done a good job as Mav's wingman, but it feels like Rooster's time."

Placating words, hoping they'll smother your anxieties over not being picked as much as his.

"With all due respect, Scorcher, I don't need a pep talk."

You snort.

"Oh, I'm aware, neither do I. Pep talks tend to be super gross and condescending. But I don't think sulking is very helpful, is it?" He raises an eyebrow and motions with the packet to you. You take one, shrugging. "All I'm saying is…it's not our mission. There'll be others."

"Cute way to think, a little too positive though. I can't wait for the next mission every time. And if it never comes?"

"Impossible." You turn and jump up to sit on top of the washing machine. "We're both way too good."

"We?"

Licking the chocolate off your teeth, you take a deep breath, humming as if you're considering it.

"I can admit you're top three."

"Three? Sweetheart, please-"

A groan escapes your lips, exaggeratedly loud and he jumps, but there's a surprised smile on his lips.

"Immediately, I'm taking it back." His brows furrow, still amused, and you nod your head. "Yeah, I was just trying to make you feel better anyway, you're definitely struggling to catch up to Roo and Trace. And I haven't even mentioned myself yet."

He's playing with the stack of cookies in his hand, eventually shoving another one in his mouth, and you take the opportunity to watch him. Slow and close.

"I do like your flying."

"You like it?"

"I respect it."

"Oh, wow. Consider me honored."

Somehow, you found yourselves looking directly into each other's eyes. Yours widen just a little, impatient.

"It's fast but quiet. Sneaks up on you, leaves an impact behind. Impressive. So why didn't Mitchell pick you?"

There it is. The reason he even started to compliment you.

"Maverick doesn't play favorites. If he picked Bradley, it's because he belives his abilities are the ones he needs."

He scoffs. "That's naive of you. C'mon, you've aced all the tests up to now, shouldn't this mission be yours?"

"Thank you, Seresin, for your unmitigated support. I know, apparently as much as you do, that I could've done this mission. But it's not me. There's still a job to do down here, to make sure all of them make it back, that's what I'm thinking about. And that's what you should be thinking about as well." Back on the ground, you turn to him from the doorway. "Let it go. Whining makes you look amateur."

Nose twisting up, remembering how mean you've been to him before. Not undeserved.

"Scorcher," Pete calling for you snaps you back into reality. He's a few steps behind, Jake in between you. "Nice job today."

Your eyes squint at the sun, shy under the praise and in front of Hangman.

"Didn't really do anything, but it was my pleasure."

"Yeah, you did." Blinking at him, he only nods. "I'm down for a repeat, anytime."

"Me too, sir."

Smiling, you refrain from asking Mav to go easy on the aviator watching your interaction, instead averting your eyes to the ground and walking away.

When you woke up this morning, things were much clearer in your mind. Jake's not the problem, you are. There's no reason to be upset with him.

Truth is, as much as it made you cry, you can also acknowledge it was a mess of your own creation. You told him it was a mistake. Sure, you didn't expect him to go straight into another woman's arms, but it would happen eventually. You're just…speedrunning the process.

Until you actually say something, he can do whatever he wants.

But would you dare? And what would be the plan? Explain that, yes, you very much like him but simultaneously you do not want to do anything about it because you're scared he won't tolerate you for long?

Your sober thoughts also led to the conclusion that you're way past the point of worrying whether or not he reciprocates your feelings. That kiss was heavy with meaning, and you got along fine. It's not too much of a leap to assume he could see an angle where he has some fun. Your worries now lie in the unraveling of yourself.

What follows is a brutal shedding of layers you have comfortably hidden under for as long as you can remember, taking your balled fists out of your pocket in the cold and opening them to ask. With no guarantee that you will be invited to a warm home.

He'll be able to see all of the vices that make you squirm and scratch at your skin because of how much you wish you could rid yourself of them. Then he's gonna ask, why don't you change? And you'll resent him for suggesting the obvious, and yourself for not already being better.

Jake is the rare kind that might sincerely make you want to do the work. Adapt. But are you worth sticking through it for? Change is difficult, and you're resistant.

The way it is - alone - works for you. It's not sad and it's not painful. If you did change, it would be for him. And when he saw what a hard time you have taking care of yourself, putting effort, how comfortable it is for you to stick to what you already know, well…He'll want to leave. And you'll see it coming, and you'll lay the ground for it, making sure he does just that.

A guttural experience. Maybe you could spare both of you from it.

It's late afternoon when you finally catch Natasha alone, fixing herself some yogurt in the kitchen.

"That was some dogshit flying you did today."

Near black eyes bore into you with the harsh intensity to shut anyone else down, but you only scoot closer against the counter, reminding her you don't scare easy.

"What do you want?"

"We can talk about your embarrassing performance or the reason why you're off."

"Rooster."

You can't help but cackle when the name slips out of her gritted teeth like a vexed old lady. She's ready to stomp on your foot like a child.

"Sorry, it's just, you said it like Josh from Drake and Josh, when he used to say Megan, have you ever- Ok. Nevermind. Please talk to me."

"Scorcher, I really don't feel like-"

"I already know you two hooked up last night. You just have to tell me what happened after."

Natasha drops everything and pulls you away from the door.

"How do you know that?"

"A secret for a secret?" She nods, and you look around the room, extending your neck to make sure no one is in the hallway either. "Hangman and I saw the two of you but I didn't want to interrupt, so I just shoved him in the bathroom."

A weird sound, something in between laughter and disgust, rumbles from her throat.

"Rooster was right? You were together in there!"

"And you were sucking face in Penny's hallway with her boyfriend's favorite child, so cut down the judgement, Ice Queen."

She ignores you.

"How did you get to that? What were you doing before? Jesus, did something happen between you two?"

"I asked first."

Groaning, Phoenix reaches back for her yogurt, sticking a spoonful inside of her mouth before conceding.

"Okay, so after you saw us, we sneaked out to his car. We were, uhm, in the middle of it, when his phone kept buzzing. I asked who it was and he lied. Said it was Mickey asking where he was."

"Who was it?"

"Some girl. She ended up calling him. We just stared at each other, and eventually, I pushed him off. I don't know why. Cut to us screaming at each other for ten minutes while I waited for my Uber."

"He shouldn't have lied." No shit, she says. "But you two are idiots. I mean, he didn't pick up the phone or call her back. Came straight back to base. No, he only dates those girls because he's too scared to ask you out, and even more afraid of being alone. And you're too scared to ask him if he really likes them more than you, since he always seems to pick them - even though clearly he doesn't. And it's all stupid, because if you did ask that he would tell you that no, he doesn't and you could be together. Boom, happy ending."

Her arms cross in front of her body, eyebrows raising at your audacity.

"Fine, smart-ass. You sound like you've got it all figured out. Why don't you tell me what happened with you? What's your secret?"

"Hangman kissed me."

"What the f-" You shush her and she punches the table, channeling her shock into it and almost knocking spoons and cups to the floor. This would be funny if it wasn't so pathetic. "You didn't…"

"No, of course not. It was just a kiss."

"And?"

Your eyes fall on the counter, zoning out as you force yourself not to crumble at the memory.

"It was…really good. Then, Rooster knocked on the door and I found my perfect excuse to run."

"Right. But he made the move?"

"You know I wouldn't."

If it were necessary, you'd keep these feelings for Seresin forever quiet. If he doesn't know, he can't reject you. Trace knows this, which is why she only nods.

"Wait, where was he this morning? Oh, Scorch."

You still haven't blinked, and it stings. So focused on it, your voice becomes quieter.

"Yeah, the guys had a bet and- It's not important."

"They're assholes." You consider defending at least Rooster, for the sake of whatever they have, but there's no energy in you for it. Nat's hands find yours. "How are you holding up?"

A shrug.

"Just kinda wish it never happened. Don't have to finish something that never started, you know? But, uhm, ultimately I don't see it going any other way."

It always ends, you don't get what you want. Because how dare you ask for anything, how dare you want?

"Scorcher, he kissed you."

"Tasha, Hangman kisses a lot of people. We had been drinking, in a place that feels cozier than The Hard Deck. Who knows, maybe he saw Penny and Mav being so close and he felt lonely. It doesn't mean anything."

"Look, I trust him less than you do, obviously. But Jake is not one to act without thinking. He's methodical, even when he's being a dick. I don't see him as the type of guy to start something and not finish it."

That's a great point. But he is not the problem.

"It can only end in disaster."

"For the record, I think you can do better." If only she knew Seresin thinks the same about her and Rooster. "But you don't know that. Maybe it'll be fine. Or it'll be a disaster and I'll be personally very pleased to see you break his heart."

You scoff.

"Think it'd be the other way around."

"Then I'll have a perfect excuse to kick his ass." You stare at each other without anything to say, and she rolls her eyes, reluctantly supportive. "Jesus, Scorcher, you like him. That ship has sailed, it's pretty obvious. Why not give it a shot?"

"Tasha, I'm a mess. I'm so scared to ruin things that I end up making sure it'll end badly. And it's okay when it's a stranger that I can avoid for the rest of my life, but he is more complicated than a stranger. I don't- I don't want him to know that I'm a catastrophe, and I don't want to bring him down with me. I think we both can do better than that."

She puts down the yogurt and crosses her arms, and you feel uncomfortable with the air of seriousness this conversation has taken.

"I wanna kick you in the crotch right now, I swear. He's a big boy, he can handle it." You start to protest but she cuts you off. "No, Scorch, you'll forgive me for saying this later but you're acting like a coward under the guise of righteousness. Fine, you're a mess. You think Seresin isn't? We're all a little fucked up in here, you just haven't noticed because you're busy putting yourself down. My point is, you seem to respect Seresin but you have no plans of telling him how you feel and letting him decide for himself what he wants to do? It doesn't add up."

You'd be shutting this down if she wasn't so accurately on point. You're overlooking Jake's ability to have a say in the matter, mostly because you know he would have choice words for you and you're too scared to find out which direction they'll take.

Sighing, you look back at her with a defeated expression, leaning your elbows on the counter and your head on your hands.

"I can't just gamble with this, Nat, I don't know how to recover when I'm hurt. I've never- I've never done any healing in my life, I just keep going. But I'm afraid these feelings are too much, and I'll never be the same after. I don't know how many times I can still pick myself up."

Her voice is as serene as the ocean in the earliest hours of the morning.

"Here, you don't tell me much but I know relationships aren't your strongest suit. You never know if you're going to be okay after them. But what a waste to have felt something and not have done anything about it, don't you think? We're human, Scorcher, we are not immune to hurt but we heal. It's what we do. You'll be fine."

Oh, she's good. You smile weakly.

"Why can't we follow our own advice, though?"

"That's also something people do. Be stupidly stubborn."

When the laughing dies down, she speaks again.

"One more thing."

"Hm?"

She leans in with a hand on your shoulder, whispering in your ear.

"You're not alone."

When she punches you in the side, a little too hard, your eyes raise to find Jake entering the kitchen.

"Phoenix."

He nods as she bumps him, saying only "Irresponsible asshole."

Confused eyes look back at you and you can't help but snort, hiding your face even further into your palms.

"Can't catch a break today."

You almost feel sorry for him. What a softened mush he has made of your heart.

"How bad was the talking?"

"Believe it or not, Maverick is not great at expressing himself. Something you two have in common, I believe?"

Feeling the twist of your lips, you squint at him. "Hey, what did I do?"

"Darlin', you're extremely confusing."

"About something specific or just in general?"

"In general."

"Mhm, or your brain has no more space for comprehension skills after you filled it up with thoughts of yourself only?"

"All I heard was skill." He flashes a smile to you, running a hand across your back as he steps behind you to get to the fridge. You watch his arms as he picks up a water bottle. "Anyway, won't be doing any flying tomorrow."

"I hope it was worth it."

It wasn't meant to be said out loud. You can see thin lines in his forehead making a curve into the brigde of his nose, and he looks almost embarrassed.

Recovering, you throw him a faint but well-meaning smile.

Your eyes follow the movement of his Adam's apple as he drinks. You hate his tanned skin, the great way a standard Navy shirt falls over his broad shoulders, his gorgeous neck hugged by the dog tags and a golden chain.

Breaking out of the dangerous slippery slope of desiring Hangman, you tap the counter and start to walk away.

"Wait, where are you going?"

If you didn't know any better, you would say he sounds needy.

"Cyclone's not here today. Maybe I can change Maverick's mind about your hours before the big guy is informed."

Halfway to the door when his voice stops you.

"Geez, that kiss must have been out of this world if you're goin' to bargain to our superiors for me."

With your head thrown back, your laugh bounces off the walls. Turning, you expect him to be standing there in all his glory, smug and smirking. And he is, but he changes his footing once your eyes meet his, an instance of insecurity before his chin is high in the air again.

"It was." Non-chalant, twisting your nose in reluctant concession. "But I think I did most of the work."

Weird when you don't hear the expected chuckle, meeting his green orbs again. An awkward second before you smile and move to the door again.

"Scorch-" Music to your ears. "Are we good?"

He looks unsure, and you tilt your head dramatically.

"Of course."

With a hand around the doorframe, you give him one last smile.

You find Pete in the library, looking over photos of his own Top Gun class.

"Hey, Captain. Mind if I-"

He shuts the book quickly, foot pushing a chair by his side away from the table and asking you to sit.

"Hangman, I assume?"

Still in a mood. You sigh, making a point to scrape the chair against the floor as you sit, inching closer to him.

"I'm not gonna try too hard to defend him, but he was late, Mav. Happened to all of us at some point, and no one had a punishment this bad. What was that about?"

It's not usual for him to let personal things interfere in his judgement.

"I wasn't actually going to scrap his air time tomorrow. I already reported his lateness to Warlock, nothing else. But I saw your face in the reflection of the cockpit when he showed up this morning. He needed a little public ear pulling, that's all."

You smile at him.

"Penny told you?"

"Yes. And I know I shouldn't get involved, it's your life, but sweetheart…You're only gonna get hurt this way."

"Seeing it through could be so much worse."

"Could be. Or-"

"Maverick, what happens when it all burns down in flames?"

His hands are wringing together on top of the table, licking his lips, in deep thought.

"Remember what you told me, years ago? We were flying together, and I asked you what it felt like. You said it was a ceaseless twisting in your stomach. I had to show you that it wasn't fear of another accident. No, it was restraint. You were holding back from being a pilot because you thought you didn't deserve to be one anymore. Deep down, you knew it wasn't true, and that feeling was your body saying you were wrong. Take the plunge. You know you want to. You know it's right. Sweetheart, no matter how persistently you've been made to believe otherwise due to circumstance or bad luck, you do deserve good things. Your instinct is one of the best the Dagger Squad has to offer. If it's dependable enough to make you a decorated Lieutenant, why shouldn't you listen to it now?"

Pete's words coddle your heart in a way you haven't felt in many years. To be seen and thoroughly understood by someone you admire, and are lucky enough to call a friend, is something you never thought would happen to you. Too damn sheltered to let others appreciate anything about you.

Biting your lip to distract you from the tears pooling in your eyes, you ask him quietly, "Can I give you a hug?"

He laughs, looking around the empty library before opening his arms.

His hold is strong, and he smells like rain on hot asphalt and worn leather, comforting.

The twisting deep inside that Maverick had magically guessed you were feeling returns, and you lean back.

"I already told him the kiss was a mistake."

"Take it back, tell him the truth. Life's too short."

Both of you glance at the decaying photo album on top of the table.

"If I do, you'll go easy on him tomorrow?"

"No promises."

On your way back to your dorm, you spot Javy in the rec room, reading a book.

"Hey, Coyote, is Jake in his room?"

"Pretty sure, yes."

"Right, thank you."

Your heart is racing, worried it might come out of your mouth and drop to the floor this far away from the medical bay.

Knocking on the door, you hope it's the right one, and that no one else comes out of their rooms for a few minutes.

Jake opens it fully dressed in fancy clothes, hair done a little differently. Less gel, more hangy. Funny. It suits him too well.

"Scorch?"

And you're back.

"Hey, sorry to bother, ran into Javy and he said you were here."

He leans on the frame, sweet perfume no cheaper than- More than you could know.

"It's our room, so."

"'Course." You know you're staring, but your mouth is too dry for you to speak yet. The pressure from clear green eyes might just force you. "Uh, right, I talked to Mav. You're flying tomorrow, like usual. Well, maybe not like usual, he might ride you a little harder but it won't last. You know it never does."

"Thanks, you didn't have to."

"I didn't do anything. All he reported was your late arrival, he was never going to jeopardize your flying time." He hums, letting his gaze finally turn away, watching his hand shake the doorknob absentmindedly. It's a huge relief, more oxygen flowing to your brain now. "Might need to avoid being late again, though."

He tsks, pearly white teeth shining in the dimly lit hallway.

"That'll be hard. This girl is a partier, she keeps me up late."

The twist in your stomach turns the opposite direction, sinking.

"Oh. From last night? You're going out again?"

Idiot. That's why he looks and smells this good. It's for her.

"No such thing as too much fun, right?"

"I wouldn't know."

You snort at your own melancholy. He's about to enjoy a night out and you sound like the biggest downer in the Navy. Smooth.

"Maybe she has a friend. We could go on a double date and show you a good time."

A smile, teasing and borderline mean. Well, to you. In his mind, it's probably the nicest thing he could do.

Tell him not to go. That's all you have to do. Take it back, tell him the truth.

"Jake-"

His Apple Watch pings, eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness. Must be her.

"Hm?"

He moves around the room to grab his wallet and a jacket. It feels like you have no air in your lungs.

"C-Can we talk about the kiss?"

Your eyes are screwed shut, the defeaning silence almost too much to handle.

"Now?"

Risking a look, you find him frozen in the center of the room, head turned but hands still holding the closet door halfway open. It's been a while since you felt this stupid around a man.

Your mouth opens and you stutter. "You're right. Terrible timing."

"The worst." It's barely humorous, both of you chuckling awkwardly but when your eyes meet it's uncomfortable. "You said we were good."

"No, we are-" Fingertips come up to pinch the bridge of your nose, and you shake your head. "We are. I just thought we should- You know what? We don't have to do this now, go on your date first."

You want to scream.

"Are you sure?"

No. I want to ask you to stay but those words have never not bitten me back, so I can't do it, I'm sorry.

Lip trapped in between your teeth, you nod. "Yeah. She's probably already waiting for you, right? See, there you go. It's not that big of a deal, really."

He thinks for a second, before another ping comes from the watch and he seems to wake up, quickly moving around the room again.

With a light teasing tone, but still awkward, he makes the offer again. "I can still ask her if she has a friend."

Nausea strikes and you roll your eyes, the only defense you have left.

"Hard pass."

"Your loss."

"Different perspectives. Do yourself a favor and don't be late tomorrow, alright?" You're turning back the way you came, before popping your head inside the room again. "And take the Apple Watch off, you look stupid."

You leave an annoyed Hangman alone with fast and determined steps. God, you wish you didn't take self-preservation so seriously.

If they're seeing each other again, the next day, he must've liked something about her. So, what, you're just gonna hand him over? Steps halting, you consider turning back until you realize you're already in the rec room.

Javy still reading his book, Tasha and Bob eating grapes on the couch, all eyes on your distressed self.

Throwing yourself in between the duo, you delight in the seedless, sweet fruit. Probably too much, because the man to your left is staring.

"I'm sorry, Floyd, are you jealous of the grapes? Did I breach your monogamous relationship with them? No? So quit looking."

Phoenix stifles a giggle, very poorly, and leans closer.

"Wanna talk ab-"

"Nope."

"Alright."

One minute later, Jake runs through the room, grabbing a Redbull from the fridge.

"How's the hair?"

"She saw it worse than that in the morning - speaking from experience - so it's fine."

Trace lifts her head from your shoulder, glancing up at Hangman and Coyote, then you.

"See you when I see you!"

"Don't be late!"

Javy yells but he's already out the door.

The warm hands around your bicep curl tighter, and you lean your head on top of hers.

Maybe some things need to change. If you can't take it back to the way it was, and you can't deal with the silly little suffering from watching Jake run off to a date, you might have to do something about it.

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #tgm x reader #tgm fanfic

[parlerenfleurs]

I've been thinking lately about the incense burner extras, and I cannot sleep so I might as well type out my thoughts.

The first time I read them I wasn't enthused. While I can read fucked up smut for its own sake, here, it was a bit too hard-core for my taste in relation to a couple that love each other (AND I do Not like the blood. Boy I sure Don't like the blood. Why did there need to be blood?). BUT, while as smut goes it's not what I'll go read when I'm in the mood, I have since then read several posts and meta, and also other translations that put it in a different light for me.

And while I'm sure I'll probably just regurgitate what more perceptive people have said before me, I did have a fond revelation about them, which make them especially moving (yes, moving) to me.

I'm not gonna address Wei WuXian's farmer fantasy, as this is not what this is about (and besides, @ninjakk might make a post about it someday, so I'm eagerly waiting!) - here, right now, we are talking about the sex Õ3Õ.

There is a lot to be said about how erotica is a mirror of a culture and its current taboo/repressions, and about the fact that this is written in Chinese by a Chinese person in current Chinese culture, and that kinks and sexual fantasies do not reflect one's morals, but many people have talked about it and I have no authority nor personnal knowledge on the matter, so let's accept that there extras can be a bit jarring to some of our sensibilities and move on (just like I did the first time I read them and was put off but decided to go on enjoying the rest of the story regardless).

I'm rambling so damn much but my point is this. These extras are a gift from MXTX to her characters, a gift most of us can only dream about but never achieve: a gift of a second chance.

A gift of being able to go back in time and catch that missed opportunity, fix this messed up situation, come back with one's current skills and knowledge and do better. I'm especially talking about the second dream, here, where Wei WuXian, as an adult, meets the young teenage Lan WangJi and riles him up to Mengpo's hall and back, because, crucially, Wei WuXian never did make Lan WangJi lose his control when they were young, (at least not on purpose, and I'm coming back to the Kiss TM later), and it wasn't for a lack of trying, but since he wasn't aware of his own attraction, even less Lan WangJi's toward him, how could he have gone all out then? So he didn't, and Lan WangJi kept his control, and they didn't go at it like rabbits on the back mountains of the Cloud Recesses. Much to Wei WuXian's chagrin when they have sex for the second time, and he laments not having done this from the beginning, and having lost so much time.

So they get this chance, for Wei WuXian to undo Lan WangJi's restraint, for young Lan WangJi to finally let go like he so badly wanted to. For both to retroactively not miss the opportunity (yeah they do this in a freaky way because they are freaks /affectionate *cough* Bichen *cough*).

I think this has been said a lot so I won't expand too much on this next part, but. Lan WangJi is a freak. He's a jealous, possessive, dominant lover, who nevertheless never lets these traits impose on the object of his affections (and make no mistakes, his love is also pure, selfless, and beautiful - but he has kinks, don't we all, and he's human, as we all are). So, compounding with how his father treated his mother, these things that Lan WangJi feels, and thinks, and wants, and fantasizes about, bring him a lot of shame, and probably some self-loathing. Absolutely self-loathing when he gives into his worst impulses and forcefully kisses Wei WuXian on Phoenix mountain, but I'm pretty sure with time he comes to accept himself enough to not hate this part of him. He's still ashamed, though. And afraid of hurting Wei WuXian. BUT fortunately, Wei WuXian is exactly the freak for him. The man also has kinks and they match beautifully with Lan WangJi's, and when he sees Lan WangJi's darkest fantasies.... it turns him on, he cheers him on. Even before seeing them he's spot on with his dirty talk, telling Lan WangJi he should have just dragged him somewhere and have his way with him back then (they both would have enjoyed it, albeit with a lot of confusion on Wei WuXian's part).*

There goes Lan WangJi's shame. He cannot be more deeply and entirely accepted and celebrated and loved as he is now.

These are the incense burner's gifts.

*it occurs to me that the little freak must be quite happy to be reborn in a slimer/shorter build, so that Lan WangJi can manhandle him even more easily.

#mdzs #wangxian #incense burner extras #am very tired+sleepy now this might be incoherent I don't know #sleep now.

[moochi-daisies]

18+, Minors DNI

- series contains drinking, smoking, cursing and tension~

Find the rest here!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2012.01.

I'm comfortable making mistakes.

Well-

I guess comfortable isn't the right word. I'm used to making mistakes, I'll put it that way. There's not much use regretting mistakes, sometimes they even turn into happy accidents, right?

I never wanted to consider meeting him a mistake. But here we are- so let's go back.

It's late Fall of 2012 and I'm 20 years old. And I'm in a bit of a "fuck all" era of life. My mom had moved us out of state to live with her alcoholic, albeit sweet boyfriend of the moment and I had no idea what I was doing with myself. There was no direction I was headed in in particular, life was happening and I was simply drifting along with it. Trying my best to stay afloat, trying my best not to panic or drown.

Things were...not the best at home. A polite way of insinuating that traumatized parents were traumatizing their children. That isn't really the point though, I'll spare the details.

I worked part time at a big shot make up company, I went to college classes (sometimes) and I partied. I had been terrified of partying my entire life until my senior year of high school when I decided to swallow my anxiety and learned a loophole around my social fears: drinking.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I was young, ok?

I had been aimlessly scrolling through Tumblr one night, mindlessly doing make up in an effort to recognize my face in the mirror when I came across a flier for a show a few states away. It was being held in some bar, the person who posted it being advertised as the main DJ. Looking closer at the picture on the flier, he was cute. Dark hair and pouty lips. A serious gaze and a smirk that flipped my stomach over.

I messaged him on a whim;

Hey you, I wanna come to your show but won't have a place to stay. Gotta room open?

I snorted to myself, surprised by my own audacity. But what the hell right? You only live once as the saying goes.

I put my phone down. Looking back at my reflection, my mood quickly grew somber. Big brown eyes, pouty bottom lip, straight eyelashes on one eye, curly on the other. Each part of my face felt separated. Like they belonged to multiple people. Like they didn't belong all together on just one face.

The girls at work were customer service friendly. Meaning, they knew I bought my makeup from a convenience store and wore hand me downs to fit the dress code. Meaning, they were never cruel to me but I wasn't invited for drinks after our shift was over. I was allowed to be there but didn't "fit in".

I was used to not fitting in. If you passed by me, you'd probably assume otherwise. Not because there was anything special about me, quite the opposite- I looked just like a regular girl. It was not being able to act regular that got me into trouble. Growing up I let many bully me into normalcy, thinking if I could figure out the rules they were setting that I would be able to appease them.

I never figured out the rules.

My phone buzzed, shaking me out of my inner ramblings.

Haha, hey yourself. Yeah, sure. My roommates are down. I'm Yoongi btw, hope the show is worth it.

I stared at the message for what felt like 5 minutes, my mouth falling open. Then I closed my phone, sitting completely still, frozen in disbelief. A laugh bubbled up and out of me before I opened up the message again. I left my phone open and stood up, shaking out my legs. A buzzing excitement starting to build in my bones.

Okay, I thought to myself, now I just need to figure out how to get there.

The money from my job went to my mom. In an effort to prevent me from partying and to help her not feel completely reliant on her boyfriend for money. I didn't have a car, and there was no way she was going to let me travel out of state to go stay with a guy I randomly messaged on the Internet.

I had a small amount in my savings meant for school. Logically, it would make more sense to spend it on what I wanted to do instead of wasting it on something I wasn't even committed to, right? I wasn't even sure what I was going to school for and had switched majors at least three times within the past two years. This was a convincing enough argument for me to make up my mind.

The show was a week away, and I figured the cheapest route would be by bus considering the short notice. I searched for the tickets, slightly gawking at the 13 hour ride length before exhaling and clicking the purchase button.

I decided only to tell my younger sister, who gave me a wary look and made me promise to check in with her. I decided not to tell my mom, to avoid any unnecessary fighting or being told "no".

I spent the following week in a daze, excitement building with each passing day. Each time I checked in with Yoongi to give him an update, a swelling in my chest made it difficult to breathe.

Was I really going to bus 13 hours to see a random dude DJ on a whim?

Yes, yes I was.

Was this absolutely insane and for the experience more than anything?

Yes, yes it was.

Life experiences felt like collectibles to me at this time. If it wound up being a bad experience, what a story I would have to tell to friends later on. If it was a good experience, what a memory I would have to cherish.

Looking back now, I don't know how to categorize the experience. There's a lump in the back of my throat that I choke on whenever I let it come back.

If I could go back in time to November 2012, if I could stop myself from going and ever meeting Yoongi-

I couldn't.

Some things in life can be avoided while others feel inevitable.

We would have crashed into each other no matter what ended up bringing us together.

#bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts yoongi #bts angst #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #btsfanfiction #bts fanfiction #suga angst #suga fanfiction #bts suga #bts slowburn #bts x reader

[illleavemymessageinmysong]

MTV Unplugged: Singing The Blues

“We’d rehearsed a bunch of songs and tried to keep it a kind of unusual selection so that there was a slightly historical interesting angle to the stuff we were playing”

Mean Woman Blues

Matchbox

Midnight Special

I Lost My Little Girl

Here, There and Everywhere

San Francisco Bay Blues

We Can Work It Out

Blue Moon Of Kentucky

I’ve Just Seen A Face

Every Night

Be Bop A Lula

She’s A Woman

And I Love Her

The Fool

Things We Said Today

That Would Be Something

Blackbird

Hi-Heel Sneakers

Good Rockin’ Tonight

Junk

Ain’t No Sunshine

We Can Work it Out

Singing The Blues

For a while, Paul’s full MTV Unplugged performance was up on YouTube (including songs that weren’t broadcast on the tv show or included on the album) but it’s since been taken down. A couple of things stuck out for me when I watched it: firstly, how naturally funny he is, his between song patter is such a laugh; secondly, how the setlist, with a few exceptions, felt kind of thematic.

Largely, the set felt like a bit of a story and that story, as his fellow Liverpudlian Pete Wylie might have put it, is The Story Of The Blues - and I don’t mean Everton FC.

No, it felt like the story of love found and love lost.

Far fetched? Well, I was listening to the When They Was Fab podcast episode from April 2023 on the mtv unplugged show and it included a clip from an interview with Paul (sorry, don’t have the original source) and he says the following:

“We’d rehearsed a bunch of songs and tried to keep it a kind of unusual selection so that there was a slightly historical interesting angle to the stuff we were playing”.

So, he’s saying there’s something thematic about the setlist. It’s not just a bunch of songs that would sound good done acoustically or, as I’ve heard suggested, that he interpreted the brief as meaning skiffle. I mean, sure, there are a couple of skiffle type songs in there in Midnight Special and San Francisco Bay Blues but even the rest of the 50s covers are more rock & roll, r&b or 50s pop.

If Paul talks about a “slightly historical interesting angle” the first thing we’d probably want to look at is The Beatles or maybe, more particularly, John. Well, the set includes ‘Be Bop A Lula’, a song John and the Quarrymen played the day Paul met him, so there’s that. Is there anything else particularly John or Beatles related in the set? Other than their shared love of 50s r&r and r&b? Don’t really see it.

There are some feel-good uptempo songs in the set to keep the mood up but most of the songs chosen, I think, come into these categories:

* Beatle Paul songs widely accepted to have been written about his then girlfriend

* Beatle Paul songs that may or may not be specifically about her but perhaps reflect the position he was in relationship wise at the time

* Songs about the despair felt when a relationship has ended - singing the blues

The last category covers a couple of his own songs and many of the covers. From the latter:

“I've got news for you, baby, leave me here in misery, all right”

“I got the blues from my baby left me…. didn’t mean to treat her so bad, she was the best girl I ever have had, she said goodbye, I can take a cry, I want to lay down and die”

“It was on a moonlight night, the stars shining bright, they whispered from high, your love has said good-bye”

“gather round me buddy, raise your glasses high and drink to a fool, a crazy fool, who told his baby goodbye. Too late he found he loved her so much he wants to die, so drink to a fool, a crazy fool who told his baby goodbye..he needs her, he needs her so, he wonders why he let her go”

“ain’t no sunshine when she's gone, only darkness every day, ain’t no sunshine when she's gone and this house just ain't no home anytime she goes away”

Finally, as a summation of the performance, we get:

“well I never felt more like singin' the blues, ‘cause I never thought that I'd ever lose your love dear, why'd you do me this way?..well I never felt more like cryin' all night, ‘cause everythin's wrong, and nothin' ain't right without you, you got me singin' the blues”

#paul mccartney #paulmccartneylyrics #mccartney mtv unplugged

[finalshaper]

For guardian ask game:

9. Favorite planet/location

11. How does your guardian show affection?

15. How do they dress for a black tie event? Day at the beach?

Send me some Guardian asks! [ Post 1 ] [ Post 2 ] And remember to specify between them. Featuring random pictures of The Asshole (affectionate)

Since you didn't specify an OC, I'll just answer with Nebula as he's my default.

9. Favourite location or planet?

Nebula is particularly fond of Europa, considering that it's not only the origins of the Exos and he enjoys musing poetically about such things, but because of the cold, and the sight of Jupiter in the sky at night. He finds the tundras oddly beautiful, especially considering how when he was first rezzed it was in the dead of winter. The snow has always been home to him.

He also likes Nessus and certain corners of Nessus, especially considering how it was where he and Pulsar first shared passions for each other, and he's fond of the red foliage combined with the neon-aqua skies.

He also likes hanging out around the ramen shop in the Tower considering it was he and Cayde's number-one date spot back when he was still alive. Now there's nothing but melancholy silence when he goes there. Only recently has he been able to seem to move on and approach the ramen shop with less sadness in his posture.

11. Does your Guardian have any tattoos, piercings or other modifications?

I know you sent this one erroneously but I'm going to answer it anyways.

Yes he does! He has several engravings on his body and all of them mean or represent something. He has tattoos that were just translations of tattoos he had when he was still human, he has tattoos that reflect milestones in his life, and some even represent people he's lost.

One such tattoo is on his chest, right in place of his heart, and it's a carving of a spade and a chicken feather filled in with glittery glossy enamel paint, representing his late husband.

He doesn't have true piercings considering how Exo piercings probably work, BUT he does have "piercings" on the fins of his helmet, three little rings perforated through the left fin. He also wears a lot of other jewelry if he feels like it.

He does have little charms that I guess could be piercings he sometimes wears under his right optic, little rings that sort of stick there with strong magnets. He has a tendency to lose these ones so he usually doesn't wear them, and they fall off under his helmet and get stuck in it and it's a hassle.

13. How does your Guardian show affection?

Gift giving is a huge one. Whether it's something he went out and bought for someone or something cool he found while out exploring, he's always giving little trinkets and things to people he cares about. One time he gave Comet a piece of Cabal armor he found broken on the road, and Star a chunk of a broken Eliksni weapon. He gave Pulsar a piece of Vex he found, so on so forth. He's also bought them lavish gifts and enjoys taking them out on family nights.

He's also physically affectionate. With his kids he's often picking them up (Titan dad moment) or hugging them or giving them kisses. With his partners, he enjoys grabbing them by the waist or holding them, often kissing them, usually their necks. WIth pretty much everyone he cares about, he likes hugs and cuddling them and stuff like that. He's a physically affectionate guy depending on how close you are to him and how he feels about you.

He also likes singing to people, dancing with them, making food for them, etc. Whatever someone's love language is, he often tries to imitate or reciprocate with his own.

15. How does your guardian dress for a black-tie or formal event? How do they dress for a day at the beach?

Dresses! He loves dresses! Anything from something like a Jessica Rabbit-style dress to a long flowing gown, it all depends on the occasion and the mood. Sometimes he wears suits. But it's usually dresses.

And these dresses are often over the top, even for something less showy when compared to his gowns. Usually very sparkly, embroidered, etc etc. His gowns are even moreso, often extremely colorful and sparkly and layered with details that could be easily missed unless you're close enough to him. He is, quite often, very beautiful at formal events.

For something more casual like beachwear or whatever. For lack of a better term he's Kinda Slutty. Beachwear ranges from things like G-string styled bikini bottoms and nothing else, but sometimes shorts and a plain T-shirt. All depends on the mood and what's most appropriate in the situation.

Casual wear also varies heavily, ranging from T-shirts and jeans to shorts and crop tops, jackets and vests, and he's very particular about his outfits to the point of vanity. Even his armor -- don't you dare tarnish his lustrous finish!

One outfit he commonly wears while working in the mechanics sectors in his free time involves a leather vest, ripped jeans, steel-toed boots, stuff like that. Sometimes he ditches the vest entirely and is just shirtless as he works.

Usually he wears whatever, but he's still very particular about coordinating his outfits to the point of vanity. And he would not hesitate to help someone with their own outfits if they ask him!

#caydeposting #ask games #Nebula-10 #Destiny #Destiny 2 #Destiny OC #Destiny Exo #Destiny Titan

[sambalbilis77]

to be a better person - reflection

H and I have been arguing a lot lately, most of the time it is about little things then it got big because neither of us want to let it go. We went on holiday and we were fine the whole time - I think H's mental health with work + our (future) marriage issues are taking a toll on him. I understand though, I keep trying to put myself in his position and would I feel the same? Yes, or probably worse. So I am giving him time and space to think about it. I re negotiate that we can just do the the whole 'nikah' thing here so it will never go side by side with the law. I think it is the best thing I can do for him and I.

Anyway, I read something yesterday that literally hit me like a truck - 'do not look for the right person, be the right person and be the person YOU would want to be with'. And then it struck me, that makes so much sense. I have been feeling like whenever H is in grumpy mood or does not talk nicely to me that I have to do the same because 'it is fair' - this is what in my head, or was. And not to put an excuse to anything but this is definitely the result of my previous trauma from my past so called 'relationship'. My brain is set to that and that is not right, especially when I know damn well that sometimes when we argue deep inside I don't even mind to let it go if it means that we both can go to sleep in a good mood. Recently, because of work stress I have not been able to manage my emotions very well. I want to be the bigger person and I want to be his peace, I will try my very best to keep my head straight and just BREATHE before I want to say something because I never ever want to hurt his feelings.

POA :

When one of us is stressed, in a bad mood after work (which is usually the case) - just keep quiet, smile and breathe. To take my own time to reflect on the day and let it go. It is not fair for my partner to have an affect of my stress that is not related to him.

If arguing about small things, ie not putting things in the right place just get up and do it. It solves the issue. Do not talk back - I notice that when I do this given that we are both tired and stressed after work it just makes things worse.

Say I love you before bed / work even if arguing from the night before - at the end of the day it is about the feeling that I have for this person and not anyone else.

Walk the talk, AIna. Try this for next few weeks and see how it goes. Remember to breathe.

[youvestillgottakeepsmiling]

A chance for me to put all my thoughts in one place.

So I thought of Tumblr yesterday whilst telling my husband how it was a huge part of my identity in my late teens and early twenties. So I thought I would sign in and maybe see what I had posted in the past. I am starting this account as a new side account for my journey and a bit of a time stamp difference between my two.

It made me smile a lot looking back, and I appreciate where I have come from but it also made me, in some ways, realise what I have lost.

The good - I am now more confident then ever, I am comfortable with who I am as a person and I know where I want to go in life. I have a loving husband and family, with a house that we are making a home, and a job that I love. I get the opportunity to work with amazing technology, to manage interesting and awesome people and to, for the first time in six years, live with my husband. I am very much feeling lucky at this point in time for things to feel like they are falling into place. I have taken up netball again to increase my girls squad and get some fitness in and I volunteer as a scout leader to support my local community (something I have never had before with moving so much). I am genuinely hand on heart happy and content with who I am and where I am.

The not so good as life is never going to be perfect - I have put on weight with the stresses of life and deployments with the military, and I am trying hard to get back the fitness that I was so proud of myself for obtaining in my early twenties. Being a manager of people is something I was probably not fully ready for when I joined the military, and with my nature, I would take on all my people’s issues by myself to resolve. This has obviously led to me being able to genuinely make an impact in people’s lives but at what cost? I feel I have lost so much of my youths innocence and positivity. Don’t get me wrong, I am still a pretty cheerful character, but the years of stress really have changed me compared to who I was back in my days on here. I know that’s natural, but it still feels like a little bit of a loss. I am also trying to figure out my body again. Coming off the pill after 12 years of being on it has been massive. My moods have changed and I have now found out that I have been hiding the fact that I have PCOS. This has been hard news to come to terms with, after years of not wanting to get pregnant, to finally getting to a place in my career and life that I want a child. It’s early days so we shall see where it all goes, but it’s defiantly been a speed bump in the road.

Anyway, that’s just a short update for now to kind of level where I am in life. I will probably try to post a little more. I do like having a bit of diary on here and I think a bit of reflection and writing things down would do me good.

[idleglowingpixels]

Can't remember if I said this already or not, but I finished the drawing I had made, I'm just nervous about posting it XD Bianca's not really in Ch. 6 outside of the beginning if memory serves me right, so it doesn't exactly fit with the chapter but I might release it with the next update anyway

Incoming ramble, only adding the Keep Reading thing so this long post doesn't clutter my blog as you scroll haha, it's kind of an XXY mini-update but also just a blog update in general

I think my main thing is that initially, I wanted to keep my Tumblr & AO3 separate from my main accounts but my art style would very clearly give me away if you happened to find my main username. But at the same time I also...Don't really care??? Like I'm a very passionate person about the things I make, and while it may be seen as cringe or some stupid shit, without fanfiction, fan art and just fan work in general I would NOT be nearly as good at most of what I do as I am now. Fandom over the years has brought me a LOT of like, unruly mess, but it has also brought me so far along on my creative journey.

In fact, the only reason my username here & on AO3 is different is because I had felt a sense of like shame in it at first ig, especially since I started on AO3 posting XXY at 17 and wanted to be able to abandon the account if I felt the need to. (Don't worry, I no longer feel that need, I wouldn't have made a Tumblr blog for my fics if I did)

But now I'm the furthest into XXY than I ever have been, and Ik the pacing has been relatively slow (we've progressed a grand total of like...3 days within the span of 5 chapters XD) but a lot goes on in the beginning and dynamics are re-established for the characters and the Teen AU thing -- point is, I'm proud of how much work I've put in and with I believe a 22k word count by the time Chapter 7 drops, that's already a lot of work I'm proud of for me.

Also since G3's release last year I've been working on releasing my Monster High AU character designs around this October/November (1 each day for a total of I think 33? Cause Jackson & Holt and Meowlody & Purrsephone were gonna have their designs posted together, I have to double check my list), along with a few one-shots if I ever find time to get around to them, and those designs do NOT take a short amount of time for me to complete so I was gonna be like "idgaf" either way eventually XD

Thing is I like both of my usernames so instead of altering all of my accounts to one or the other, my main will be where I'm more professional and focusing more on developing a portfolio of completed works, whereas here I'll just be a little more unhinged lmao

Might make an alt Instagram to match this account so I can focus my fanfics and art and stuff over to that account XD But idk

Now enough about me and my self-reflections, here's what to expect next month:

Chapter 6 is looking just fine for release on July 7th, I'm feeling pretty good about it (probably because it's Butch's POV haha) and I'm excited for his and Buttercup's dynamic to really be shown off since Chapter 3 didn't have them around each other much. I've got an event to attend tonight and a couple of things to do tomorrow but I should be able to give Chapter 6 the usual final edit on Sunday.

Like I said before, I'll probably share my Bianca & Barbara drawing on the Chapter Update post and I'm hoping I'll have a drawing of our 6 leads by the time Chapter 7 rolls around. I've been very much in an art mood lately so it's been taking up a lot of my time, and I've also felt really rejuvenated by drawing to get back to writing little by little.

Also before you ask, unfortunately I might have an update gap between Chapters 7 & 8, as my writing has been very slow over the last 3 or so months. I do apologize for that, but I hope you understand. The last few months have been a lot on me to say the least, but I love sharing XXY with you all, and I just really enjoy seeing emails from AO3 when I check it pretty much every morning. I'm so happy to have others enjoy my work. That being said, I'll do my best to make the gap as small as possible, and hopefully I'll only have to skip a month or something.

Thanks for reading my rambles, and as always, the link to XXY is in my introduction post.

#linposts #xxy #mini update #link in intro post #ppg #fanfic authors #fanfic writing

[feretra]

All the smoke in the air is really wreaking havoc on my lungs today, which is frustrating as I wanted to get some writing done. In the interim, since I’m working on her entry on the carrd? Have some Eivor facts:

Her full name is Eivor Eleanora Fjallstrom. You might think this name would make her stand out a great deal — and perhaps in other parts of the country she would — but Scandinavian names are extremely commonplace in Minnesota, especially rural areas and in the North Country.

Her nickname is “Nell,” and obviously comes from her middle name. You mostly hear it out of her family. You’re welcome to call her this, but if she’s not expecting it or if it’s because your character has dirt on her, expect a raised eyebrow.

She’s 5’2”, which makes her the shortest of her family. Being chided about being vertically challenged will expose that she, like most of her height, suffers from Small Spitfire Syndrome. Her small stature, however, allows her to be able to able to ride select members of her reindeers as mounts.

She was born in Taconite, Minnesota. She grew up outside of Hibbing, which may be familiar if you are a Bob Dylan fan. She still lives in this area. There’s a lot of reasons why, but one of the strongest is that she’s a bit bewitched by Lake Superior. Long periods away make her feel a bit… itchy. Haunted things often create life beyond themselves, I suppose.

Her father’s name is Bjorn, and her mother is named Anna. The latter is deceased due to a car accident and has been for a number of years, and her father is currently suffering from late stage terminal cancer as a result of working in and around the iron mines of the Mesabi Iron Range. She keeps her farmstead away from his home for reasons I’ll talk about later, but she is very close to her father and is one of her caretakers. Every morning and evening she goes to take care of his needs — flushing IVs, connecting his TPN, etc — and she often spends “down” days with him.

An ISTP, Reformer, and Neutral Good. Her tarot card, as of right now, is Temperance.

Much to my chagrin — how is it that only my immortal hell spawn clan recognize the danger of cancer sticks — Eivor smokes. Considering she’s asthmatic and her father is dying of a form of lung cancer, I actively encourage your muses to fucking drag her for this.

She is somehow a vague, amorphous bisexual and yet also asexual creature. I think it really depends on who she’s played against, and her mood. Most of the time she leans the latter, but sometimes she’s capable of being a terrible, corny flirt.

Eivor is mostly of South Sámi (with some Finnish/Kven) descent. Her clothing and culture and language all reflect this. The Sámi are found in parts of far northern Scandinavia (along with parts of Canada, Siberia and Alaska!), but are an Indigenous Arctic people. They have much more in common with the Indigenous populations of America, Canada and Siberia than with your typical Norwegian or Swede. So remember that I will write Eivor wearing traditional garments, speaking her Native language, and using traditional tools (she will absolutely serve you coffee in a guksi — a wooden type of mug she probably made herself), and the like.

So just to parrot the above: she is not Nordic. She does not practice Old Norse anything, and her understanding of historic Norse culture exists within the vein of it interacting with her own.

Eivor, however, does honor the Old Gods. By Old Gods, I mean the deities of the Sámi. If it’s ever warm enough — or she’s undressed enough — her entire right arm is a sleeve dedicated largely to Beaivi, the Sámi goddess of the Sun, though the design is heavily based on the motifs of the sacred South Sámi drums. Most of which were burned by missionaries throughout history.

Remember when I said up list that she keeps her farmstead away from her father’s home? Yeah. It’s because she is a noaidi. This is a concept that is hard to define to people who don’t already understand the term innately — a noaidi just is — and “shaman” doesn’t feel adequate enough. What does that grant her? Power over elements (she can manipulate some better than others, with water/ice/snow being the strongest because she’s just innately done it since she was young.) The ability to communicate between realms. Other things. It’ll get its own post. Probably shortly.

Being a noaidi attracts all kinds of things, though. Spirits, jotünns, strangers who sense something being a bit off, etc. As a defense, she keeps sheep and rabbits close to the house (easy targets), reindeer in a safer place, and her father even safer yet. That way things she’s particularly close to don’t get murdered.

She has a herding dog, his name is Grim.

The reindeer she rides the most? Is named Elsa. Is she named for that Elsa? Yes. Yes, she is. And because people will think otherwise: female reindeer grow antlers as well, and for far longer than males do!

#eivor ( hc ) #[ i normally don’t care but between the asthma and pain this took me two hours to write ] #[ someone please acknowledge my efforts hahaha ]

[basslinegrave]

answers for the prev reblog (artist ask) because it looks fun

1. Art programs you have but don't use

💚 clip studio, i used it like 3 times in total because its not really for my win7 so its too buggy for me to use right now

2. Is it easier to draw someone facing left or right (or forward even)

💚 facing left for me

3. What ideas come from when you were little

💚 probably anything to do with bugs or dinos

4. Fav character/subject that's a bitch to draw

💚 certain clothes like tech wear and shoes but i still love it

5. Estimate of how much of your art you post online vs. the art you keep for yourself

💚 i post a solid 95%

6. Anything that might inspire you subconsciously (i.e. this horse wasn't supposed to look like the Last Unicorn but I see it)

💚 for human art its dmmd and bleach, at times pswg

7. A medium of art you don't work in but appreciate

💚 anything i dont do goes, animation, comics, sculpting (3d as well),...

8. What's an old project idea that you've lost interest in

💚 anything to do with 3d stuff, im not good with that (i could still learn though)

9. What are your file name conventions

💚 hfhshdhshhdh.png or the rare 0827464.png

10. Favorite piece of clothing to draw

💚 shoes? and tops like tees or hoodies.. but i also like drawing jeans, thanks to gorillaz

11. Do you listen to anything while drawing? If so, what

💚 anything im in the mood for, music, podcasts, true crime stuff, ... lately its yass stuff (like slay. bad bitch vibes. idont know how else to describe this music ✌️), nightcore, hyperpop and abba. yeah

12. Easiest part of body to draw

💚 is there one? ...ears? ik those are hard for some ppl but thats the thing i do in 3 seconds

13. A creator who you admire but whose work isn't your thing

💚 kinda beats the purpose for me or i just cant think of anyone here...

14. Any favorite motifs

💚 dunno if this is motifs, but first thing that pops up in my mind is wuxia theme... or funky angles, also anything y2k inspired

15. *Where* do you draw (don't drop your ip address this just means do you doodle at a park or smth)

💚 my bedroom pc 99%

16. Something you are good at but don't really have fun doing

💚 rn most furry anthro art? as i prefer doing sonic style anthros but i still like doing it its just connected to only work now for me. so i think that affects it as well cuz work = no fun

17. Do you eat/drink when drawing? if so, what

💚 rarely now, it taught me to only use one hand while drawing which i hate, cuz i rather click the undo button than go ctrl z. its either popcorn or fruit or nacho chips

18. An estimate of how much art supplies you've broken

💚 my main thing is digital But i have broken several promarkers on purpose to dye some stuff with the ink especially cosplay wigs etc

19. Favorite inanimate objects to draw (food, nature, etc.)

💚 hmm aside from clothes maybe nature background (if i can keep it messy) like shrubs, clouds. but i prefer characters. and hate anything geometrical

20. Something everyone else finds hard to draw but you enjoy

💚 probably hands and aforementioned (human) ears are easier for me

21. Art styles nothing like your own but you like anyways

💚 theres so many i cant even name, but to choose one, anything overly retro cartoony and like don bluth style... i would love to draw like that but i would have to rewire my brain

22. What physical exercises do you do before drawing, if any

💚 i should stretch but i rarely do :( sometimes i do wrist exercises

23. Do you use different layer modes

💚 if it means like like overlays and stuff, yes, i use those and shadow+light for shading bigger pieces, sometimes lumi if needed

24. Do your references include stock images

💚 if im lost on the idea then yes.. or i use my own reflection/shitty webcam photos, you know (but senshistock has a place in my heart)

25. Something your art has been compared to that you were NOT inspired by

💚 definitelly happened but i cant remember

26. What's a piece that got a wildly different interpretation from what you intended

💚 uhh if its meant from others, then one picture i drew of murdoc and noodle. meant to be harmles father daughter fun. but. people online are gross creeps and you can imagine what they said :/

27. Do you warm up before getting to the good stuff? If so, what is it you draw to warm up with

💚 i cant warm up as i will spend hours on the warmup and waste time and energy i could put into the main thing (and most of the time i end up liking the warmup more)

28. Any art events you have participated in the past (like zines)

💚 some collabs ages ago.. i would love to do more but people never bite when i ask around

29. Media you love, but doesn't inspire you artistically

💚 cant think of anything, i usually get inspired by everything, even if just a little

30. What piece of yours do you think is underrated

💚 many of my commission works but, as long as the customer loves it, its enough

#long post #answers #thoughts are being thunk

[scuttle-buttle]

WC: 2261

Rated: M

Tags: angst, medical issues, pregnancy complications, hurt/comfort, anxiety, brief mentions of medical procedures but no gore, nothing is technically sad, fluff, papa laszloooo

A/N: honestly tho I am sorry. also i maybe cried a little writing this, which is a first. also also everybody is fine in this it's just emotional

Blame @hardlyinteresting

🧠

"Three weeks…. Three weeks little bean…" you mumble as you rub your protruding stomach after a particularly harsh kick to your ribs. The chair was a sweet relief to your ankles after a long day at work and doing some light chores around the house all afternoon. You had three weeks until you hit 39 weeks into your pregnancy. As much as you were anxious you were ready. Ready to not feel like a bloated whale. Ready to not have sore feet. But most of all, ready to hold your baby girl.

Laszlo had been trying to convince you to take it easy and start maternity leave early, but you resisted. The last thing you were about to do is nothing. Most first pregnancies went late anyway, you'd argued, so you didn't worry about it yet. I’m pregnant, not dying - give me another week, you'd told him.

What you didn't tell him was about the headaches. Or how sore your legs were. Or how absolutely exhausted you'd been feeling the last couple weeks. Whenever he would ask if you were alright or offer a foot rub you would just brush it off as third trimester woes. You didn't want to worry him.

You were sat in an armchair in the parlor, feet propped up, damp rag over your eyes. The droning from the tv had your nerves on edge. All you wanted to do was take some tylenol and feel better, but you had been knocking back more than was probably safe the last few days so you went without.

A sudden pain shoots through you causing the rag to fall onto your chest. “Ohh...ow? OW!” You sit up straighter as the ache persists; the dull throbbing in your upper abdomen unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Were you in labor early? Did she just kick in a bad spot? No no - surely the pain would’ve died down by now had that been the case. Unless? Can babies kick so hard they rupture something? Did my kid just bust my liver? Your thoughts run rampant as you wait, in vain, for the pain to go away. The pricking behind your eyes and in your temples only made it more hellish. Pressing your palm to the spot does nothing, nor do the breathing exercises you had been taught.

When five minutes have passed by without relief you make the choice to call out for your husband. “Laz?” No response. “Laszlo!” A beat passes; nothing. You swallow through your building nausea.

“I swear to fucking-” you growl as you snatch your phone from the end table to your left. You use all your concentration to dial his number.

It rings four times.

“Bärchen, why are you call-”

You don’t let him finish. “Something’s wrong.”

______

Head thrown back into the flat, starchy hospital pillow you groan in frustration. “permanent bedrest?” You scrub the hand not clutching your belly down your face.

The emergency room Obstetrician gives you a pitying look. “I’m afraid so - your blood pressure is high and we want to keep it under control to prevent outcomes such as pre-eclampsia. I recommend doing as little as absolutely possible; get rid of as many stressors as you can.” He flips through your chart. “You said you’ve been having headaches and fatigue for nearly two weeks? Why didn’t you come in sooner?”

Huffing, you tell him “I thought it was just part of the third trimester. Everyone always complains about how bad it is.” He hums in response.

“Well. I’m going to go take a final look at your labs, make sure everything else is fine before we discharge you. I’ll send in my Nurse Practitioner to give you the run down and anything else you’ll need to know. And should anything else like this happen again - get in here immediately.” He pats you awkwardly on the hand before nodding at Laszlo and leaving the room.

Laszlo.

Sparing a glance from the corner of your eye you see him looking towards his lap, his weaker hand cradled in the other. He’d been quiet since you admitted when your symptoms had first begun. Every single time he’d asked you how you were feeling you had lied to him. Granted, you didn’t technically know you were lying. But it makes little difference when you’re sitting in the ER. He had every reason to be upset.

“Laszlo honey,” you reach over to him. Slowly he takes your proferred hand and stands, coming to stop beside the bulky bed frame. His thumb caresses your wrist.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve examined the signs, kept a better eye on you.”

“Laz-”

“-No-”

“-I didn’t want to worry you, okay?-” Your voice breaks as you defend yourself.

“-I could’ve done something, maybe- I don't know!” His slightly raised voice startles you quiet. The pain in his eyes only makes you feel guiltier. He licks his lips. “I took the liberty of calling your mother. She will be here tomorrow afternoon and will be staying in the guest room as long as we need her.”

Now you look away, indignant. “I don’t need to be watched like I’m a child.” The tears behind your eyelids rush in; a lone drop trailing down your cheek as the embarrassment settles within your gut. You knew that at some point it was likely you would need her here. However you imagined it to be under happier circumstances. A deep inhale fails to calm your sobs. “I just- I don’t want to be a burden with all this.” Your tears flow freely now.

“My dear you could never be.” Laszlo sits on the edge of the bed. He rests his right palm above the swell of your child, his left cupping along the curve of your jaw. He tilts you to face him. “But the health of you and our girl is what is most crucial now. Let us take care of you. Please.”

A gentle kick underneath his palm from your daughter is answer enough.

__________

Two weeks. 14 days.

Lying in bed, sitting in the same spot for hours on end was actually going to be the death of you. You were sure of it.

Your mother truly has been a huge help since arriving. Laszlo wanted to start his paternity leave, but you insisted that he stay until you were closer to your due date. Which couldn’t come fast enough, you might add. Both Laszlo and your mother were prone to pestering you about some things, but at other times if you truly wanted to be alone they gave you your space. Now was one of those times. Laptop to your side, you watch another episode of Grey’s Anatomy. A knock sounds. You turn to see your husband standing in the doorway, the blood pressure monitor in arm.

He gives you a bright smile. “How are you two on this fine afternoon?”

“Cut it with the attitude, bucko. Let’s get this over with.” The words, while harsh, had little bite to them. His brow raises but he says nothing. You honestly felt bad that you’d been in a pretty foul mood since being discharged. On more than one occasion you’d said as much to Laszlo and your mother - they didn’t deserve your ire. Thankfully they understood why you were so frustrated.

You held the strap in place as he secured the velcro and started the machine. Buzzing filled the overall quiet room. Closed eyes you wait. Some days your results were higher than others. Unless you became higher than a certain threshold the doctor said you were safe to be home. At the sound of a beep Laszlo unhooks the cuff, reporting that your levels are within the acceptable range. When he goes to leave you alone you clutch at his sleeve. He waits as you peer up at him. “Stay?”

He never could say no to you.

______

Little bean’s ruthless treatment of your bladder had you up for the second time that night. You waddled to the bathroom to attend to your business and wash your hands. Glancing at the circles under your eyes in the mirror you sigh. “I love you baby bean but you’re giving me a run for my money here, kid,” you whisper as you rub your stomach. Three days, you remind yourself.

The floor creaks as you shuffle back to bed. Suddenly, an odd warm trickling sensation travels down your legs. “What the fuck?” Looking down around your bulging bump you find yourself standing in a small puddle, the glint of the bathroom night light reflecting off the surface. “Shit okay…ah Laszlo? Hey, I need you to wake up.”

He grumbles. With a roll of your eyes you walk over and shake him awake. “Hey- what-” he sits up instantly and blinks at you. “Is everything alright?”

“My water broke.”

He hops into action right away. Moving you to sit on the bed, he pulls out his cell phone to call your doctor. As he talks you watch him move around the room, the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, as he collects your hospital supplies. You feel useless as you sit. Yet, you know that your priority needs to be keeping yourself calm and that moving around could exacerbate your condition.

He hangs up. Coming to stand in front of you he presses a kiss to your forehead; “I’ll go wake your mother. Don’t move, Liebling.”

As you sit you blow out a long breath. You look down at your bump. “Guess you decided you’re ready to go, huh kid?” The tip of your fingers brush along the side of your stomach. “I know we’re ready for you too. We’re going to love you so much, and your daddy? He’s gonna be the best, you’ll see.” Placing your palms flat she nudges you from within.

_____

The doctors decided that a c-section was the safest route. You both knew it was a possibility, but you had hoped that after weeks of bedrest that your blood pressure would balance out enough for a natural delivery. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. They monitored you for an hour before your contractions began, officially confirming you were in fact in active labor and dilating. After the fourth hour your blood pressure began to spike again. That’s when they decided to prep you for the procedure.

The operation went smoothly. The atmosphere of the surgical suite was tense with your nerves, but Laszlo’s calming words and his hand squeezing yours kept the anxiety from spilling over. You even found it in you to poke fun at how ridiculous he looked in the puffy blue elastic hair cap he wore.

When the first cries rang out you nearly tried to hop off the table to see your baby. The doctors worked quickly to ensure you were in proper condition while the infant was cleaned.

“Dad? Would you like to come and cut the cord?” one of the nurses calls out.

Laszlo looks back at them before turning to face you. He searches your eyes for a moment; “go,” you nod with a smile. You watch as he did what the nurses instructed as best you could, her soft wails echoing in the small room. He returns to you right after while they finish wrapping her up in a blanket.

“She’s beautiful my dear,” your professor confesses. He leans to give you a lingering kiss. “I’m so unbelievably proud of you.”

“I love you so much.”

“As I love you.”

The doctor interrupts your moment. “Would you like to hold your baby girl?” The question is directed at you, but you look over to your husband. The man you love more than life itself. He stares at the little bundle as if she’s the most incredible sight he’s ever laid eyes on. He can’t take his gaze off her. His irises sparkle with unshed tears as he looks on with wonder.

“Laz?” Finally he breaks away. “Hold your little girl - she’s been waiting to meet her Papa.”

Carefully the doctor shifts his hold on the babe to slide her into Laszlo’s waiting arm. He swallows as he pulls her to his chest. Something caught between a sob and a laugh leaves him. You blink through your own tears at the sight of your husband and daughter, a sight so far beyond perfect there could be no words. Laszlo held her with such delicacy, such reverence. It was as if any moment she could slip away as though a dream.

“Hello there my little dove, I’ve been waiting a very long time to meet you.” He doesn’t bother to wipe away the streams that fall from his eyes. “I’m your Papa and I-” he sniffs, looking towards the ceiling and blinking rapidly to clear his eyes. You rest your hand on his bicep. “I love you so very much. I would give you the world if I could. Your grandfather didn’t...he was not....” he pauses to gather himself. “To me you are the greatest gift I could ever receive. I will be the best father I can for you. A father worthy of you. Mein Gott, Ich liebe dich my darling dove.”

He continued to hold her in his arms until it was time to take you into the recovery room. When he had asked if you wanted her you simply shook your head. You would get your chance, you had a lifetime to do so. But your Laszlo needed this. He needed his little dove.

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#peri psyches #the interpretation of dreams #psychopathia sexualis #laszlo kreizler x reader #papa laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo x reader #laszlo kreizler #the alienist #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #daniel bruhl laszlo kreizler #daniel bruhl x reader #daniel brühl x reader #daniel bruhl fanfiction #pregnancy #pregnancy complications #medical procedure #anxiety #childbirth #scuttle-buttle

[dottiechan]

ICEBREAKER Pt. 1

Read on AO3 (link in bio)

Part 1 | Part 2&3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Pairing: Crosshair x Reader x Hunter; Tech x Reader (platonic)

Wordcount: 2389

Summary: Tech watches on helplessly as his brothers' affection for you threaten to ruin the squad.

Warnings: cursing, yearning

You’re just as cold on the inside as the ice is under your boots. It crunches with every step you take, and your heart seems to beat along with the fall of your boots, aching. You feel unsteady, almost enough to miss the tracks running in the snow right in front of you. You pause and crutch down, gloved fingers dipping into the indentations as you grumble to yourself. It’s not even your turn to scope out the area where you’re setting up camp, and besides, there is a literal tracking genius in your squad - it really shouldn’t be you who’s out here in the snow and ice, eyes straining against the blinding white of the planet, fingers freezing off as you set up perimeter alarms. And yet you just volunteered for the less than ideal task without explanation, not understanding your own decision either.

At least Tech offered to tag along, but you suspect he’s simply had enough of his brothers for a while. Not that you can blame him.

“Fascinating.”

You sigh, internally begging him to stop talking as you stand, abandoning the tracks after deciding they most likely belong to a lone whitefang. You have enough on your plate right now, with Hunter still being pissy and Crosshair avoiding you like the plague, and silence would be much more preferable right now to listening to one of Tech’s rambles.

“Did you know that this moon’s surface is almost entirely composed of water?”

“No.”

“Despite the subzero surface temperature, there are subsurface oceans underneath the ice that are warmed by the moon’s internal heat.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I wish we could stay long enough for me to study the subsurface flora and fauna. There might be plants underneath the ice that-”

“Tech.”

“-that use chemosynthesis-”

“Tech!”

“What?”

He has the decency to look flustered, one hand gripping the datapad tightly, the other flying up to adjust his goggles as he peers up at you. You didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but sometimes you just can’t help it. Sometimes, the confinement of the Marauder is enough to turn you into a ticking time bomb, irritated by the slightest seemingly innocent things. And you’ve had more than just mere sparks to flare your temper as of late.

...

His rifle is spotless, and yet he’s still scrubbing it as if his life depended on it.

Maybe it does, because if he jumps up and lowers his guard for a second, he’s out the ship and off to find you and Tech. Maybe you’re a fool sometimes, a god damn nuisance, a person he still couldn’t grow used to, but you belong with them now, you’re theirs, you’re his, and that means something to him. You frustrate him beyond reason, and he often grows callous and agitated because he refuses to allow himself to feel the emotions you elicit from him whenever you’re near him.

Even now, on an ice planet, the mere thought of you infects him with a sweet, sweet jungle fever that knocks him off his feet.

And he’s supposed to be angry now, Crosshair reminds himself. After all, you almost gotten yourself killed on Bracca, and almost broke him in the process.

“They’ve been gone for too long,” Hunter grumbles as he paces up and down like a caged nexu craving to run free. But lately Crosshair began to suspect that he craves something else, someone else, and the thought has his throat tightening in jealousy. He’s been watching, and he convinced himself that he’d misread the signs until he saw the same agitation reflect in his brother’s eyes that he himself has to wrestle with every day.

If it ever came down to your choice, he knows he wouldn’t be it, and he hates living with this knowledge.

Hunter has all the things you seem to like - unlimited kindness, longing looks, smirks that turn a little too soft when directed at you, broad shoulders he caught you staring at more times than he can count. Deep down, he’s still hoping it will never come to you having to choose, but it’s impossible not to wish to be in the centre of your attention. You drive him insane, but you also make him want to commit and stop fighting and lay down his weapons for once in his god damn life.

“Relax. They’re probably fine.”

The screen to their left lights up, and Hunter rushes across the ship in long strides before exhaling in relief. “The proximity alarms are online. They should be heading back soon.”

Crosshair sucks in a breath, worried about seeing his own emotions sitting behind Hunter’s eyes as well.

...

You were assigned to assist the Bad Batch for an unspecified period of time some months ago. You’re a versatile field agent, specialising in both stealth and combat casualty care, one of the few volunteers who were qualified enough to join the GAR. Oh, and you’re also clearly mistrusted by your new squad as they flip out the very moment you risk yourself in the line of duty. You’re not stupid, you weighed the risks carefully, and you trusted your abilities to see you through the job unharmed.

But ever since the incident on Bracca, you’re given the cold shoulder by most on the squad, and for once, the scenery matches your mood.

And yet Tech deserves better than to be cut off like that. He deserves to be listened to, and appreciated as the good man he is. You’re friends, but in moments like these, you think you don’t deserve his friendship.

“Look, I’m... I’m sorry, okay? But right now, I have too much on my mind to think about, umm, chemo...”

“Chemosynthesis?”

“Yeah, that.”

“I think I understand,” he nods, satisfied with your half-assed apology for the time being as he goes back to scanning the vast icy desert stretching as far as the eye can see. The Marauder’s lights blink in the background, orange against the dark blue of the growing darkness that surrounds you. It’s like a beacon, a sign that promises warmth, and you gaze at it longingly until you remember that you’ll have to go back to Crosshair’s scowl and Hunter’s disapproving frown and Wrecker’s awkward little smiles. Somehow, the ice is preferable once more, and the snow that just began to fall in soft flakes is little more than a mild annoyance.

“Well, aside from a few distant life forms-”

“Whitefangs.”

“Yes, most likely whitefangs - aside from those, we should be quite safe inside the ship for tonight.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “You might be. I’m not the most popular with the squad right now, remember?”

“You are a valued addition,” Tech declares, and the certainty in his voice releases inside you the emotional equivalent of a sucker punch. All you can do is stand, and fight the sting of tears in your eyes. You’re confident, but you never in your wildest dreams imagined how difficult it would be to live up to the expectations of a special unit. You also know your worth, but it’s hard to keep on believing in yourself steadfastly when the rest of your squad doubts your every move. “Which is why the prospect of losing you elicits a rather severe emotional reaction in us. It is rare for regs to warm up to us as well as you have, let alone volunteers. Aside from the obvious tactical disadvantage losing you would mean, I believe it is a little more personal than that.”

...

Hunter knows something is off even before one of the alarms is triggered - whatever it is, it is within five clicks of the ship, making you and Tech plenty exposed before he could do anything. He was straining his ear simply to keep you all safe - so what if he accidentally heard your muffled voice, or the soft crunch of snow underneath your boots?

But now is not the time to be idle, and he knows it. He would never forgive himself if something happened to his squad. And to you, he corrects himself almost softly as he grabs his helmet and checks his weapons quickly. Despite the fact that he’s still angry about your previous carelessness, he cannot deny the forbidden yearning coiling in his stomach whenever you’re on his mind, making him just as nervous as hopeful. And to be fair, it happens more and more often as of late, which is both alarming and exciting as he never thought he’d ever have the luxury to feel this way about someone else. Sure, he knows love, he loves his brothers with all his heart even if he isn’t very vocal about it, but this is different. New, scary, exciting different, an effervescent and persevering tingling blinding all his senses.

Crosshair is beside him in less than a second, rifle in hand, silent, and they share a nod before lowering the ramp and rushing out into the freezing dusk.

When he picks up on your muffled voice, he seems to ignore everything as he breaks into a sprint towards you, hoping to reach you in time before you’re in danger. He almost misses the way Crosshair’s heartbeat picks up, the usually stoic man reeking with genuine worry as he looks through the scope of his rifle.

He can deal with this later, Hunter promises himself as he pushes down this uncomfortable feeling. But then he sees you and Tech, and he seems to forget about anything and everything - you have that unfortunate and awfully distracting effect on him.

...

“But Hunter yelled at me for being reckless for a solid hour. And Crosshair said he didn’t care if I wanted to get myself killed, but I should do it in a way that didn’t interfere with the mission. Seriously, what an asshole.”

“Nevermind what they actually say,” Tech waves his hand in mild annoyance. “Hunter was worried sick. Crosshair almost went after you. And they’re both too pigheaded to admit the real reason why they’re so worked up.”

“Which is?”

“Obviously they both view you as a potential romantic partner.”

There’s a moment of pause as you two stare back at one another before you snort and chuckle, shaking your head and crossing your arms over your chest as a futile attempt at staying warm. “Tech, you need to work on your sense of humour.”

“And you need to work on your observational skills and situational awareness.”

“My observational skills are exceptional,” you defend yourself, a finger held up in the air defiantly. “And my situational awareness is-”

“Lacking, as you didn’t seem to notice the whitefang return. I suggest we head back to the safety of the Marauder.”

Sure enough, the wild cat is there lurking amongst the ice dunes, its eyes glowing in the dark as they reflect the light of the ship. It shouldn’t pose a threat to you as it is alone, and relatively small, but you still consider wrestling with it instead of returning to the ship and facing the rest of the squad - somehow, even that feels like a fight more fair than the ones that await you upon your return. So you hold its gaze as it curiously inspects you, wishing to swap bodies and run away and avoid any more conflict. Before you can even think of returning to the ship, you hear quiet footsteps catching up to you.

“I thought I heard something.”

“It’s probably more curious than anything.”

Hunter unsheaths his vibroblade and twirls it in his hand so theatrically it makes you roll your eyes. He glances at you, shoulders all tense, ready to pounce at the slightest sign of danger, and even though his face is obscured by his helmet, you can almost see the disappointed frown sitting on his features. “You want to test that theory?”

“My money would be on the whitefang winning.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Tech.”

“Any time.”

“Relax.” The distorted rasp of your commlink is not enough to drown out the smugness of the sniper. The stand-off ends when a single well-placed shot right before the big cat sends it sprinting away into the darkness. You all turn to find Crosshair standing by the ship, his rifle still aimed at the retreating form of the whitefang.

“Well, there goes my opportunity to finally have an interesting patrol,” you mutter to yourself as you all make it back to the Marauder.

“Do all of your patrols end in you staring down carnivores?” Crosshair snorts, clearly unamused.

“Only the good ones,” you fire back, deciding not to wait for any of them as you head inside. Crosshair is hot on your heels, another string of mockery sitting on the tip of his tongue, because fuck, you’re stubborn, but he’s not going to cave in and tell you how it makes him feel to see you in danger. He can’t, however, put up with being away from you either.

Hunter lingers a little outside. He has to set himself straight, to contain all the things he wants to say you that have nothing to do with scolding you about Bracca, to kill all the feelings that suddenly demand to be felt so desperately. He clenches and unclenches his fists by his side, pretending to survey the surroundings of the Marauder. Tech moves in the periphery of his vision, but instead of following you and Crosshair, he steps closer to Hunter.

“I believe the threat’s been averted.”

“Yeah. Good job on setting up those alarms, Tech.”

“No problem. Is there anything else you need?”

“No. You should head back inside. The last thing I want is for you to keel over with hypothermia.”

“That’s not how hypothermia works,” Tech mutters, his voice trailing off, eyes uncertain behind his goggles. He suddenly places a gentle hand on Hunter’s shoulder, making the sergeant glance at him.

“Hunter, I’m only asking this because I care about you all, but... how long do you think this can go on before one of you gets hurt?”

Tech’s words echo in his mind long after he’s rejoined the squad on the ship. And Hunter just stands outside in the snowfall, watching the last rays of light disappear on the horizon, wondering which one of you he’ll have to hurt when the push comes to shove.

#dottiechan writes #hunter x reader x crosshair #hunter x reader #crosshair x reader #the bad batch #the bad batch x you #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #tbb x you #crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb fanfiction #star wars #tbb tech x reader #tech x reader