#United Buddy Bears

[sigalrm]

Berlin Buddy Bears by Pascal Volk Via Flickr: Hand-in-Hand für Toleranz

#Europe #Germany #Berlin #Berlin Mitte #Mitte #Leipziger Platz #Mall of Berlin #Buddies for tolerance #Hand-in-Hand für Toleranz #Buddy Bär #United Buddy Bears #bear sculpture #Bärenskulptur #Wide Angle #Weitwinkel #gran angular #WA #WW #Invierno #Winter #Canon EOS R3 #Canon RF 24-70mm F2.8L IS USM #24mm #Phase One Capture One #Capture One Pro #edit with us #flickr

[crystal-lillies]

Since my study abroad, every year Halloween week never fails to remind me of my trip to Wales.

And this year is no different, especially since the lineup of the days of the week are identical to that time six years ago.

This time back then, I was in tucked up in my Airbnb in Newport, having spent the afternoon and evening in Caerleon. I had bought myself a £4 plush of Bright Heart Raccoon (double on sale) from Debenham's en route back, and an unconventional dinner from the adjacent Muffin Break (which, if it still exists there, is well worth a visit if anyone reading this is in Wales).

I rounded out my night by watching Scooby Doo on Zombie Island clips because I couldn't find the whole movie, and so, I will do the same tonight.

Here I am tucked up in bed, Bright Heart Raccoon plush by my side, ready to fall asleep to the dulcet tones of "It's Terror Time Again."

#flowerspeak #personal #wales #halloween #i used to collect care bear plush when i was a lot younger. and sadly those plush are long gone. #so seeing this lil dude in debenham's that night was an echo to my childhood #and he was only 4 pounds. i paid in cash lmao #he was my lil wales travel buddy (alongside baymax ofc) #i also played a lot of pokemon go which i havent been able to play for the last couple years #and that makes me sad #but when i cave and get a new phone I'll be able to see my uk mons again #uk #United kingdom

[theculturedmarxist]

In 2020, Robert Kuciemba, a woodworker in San Francisco was infected with covid by a co-worker after his Nevada-based Victory Woodworks transferred a number of sick workers to the San Francisco site for a few months. 

Through the proceedings of the case it turns out that the employer knew some employees might be sick but they transferred them anyway and ignored a San Francisco ordinance in place at the time to quarantine suspected covid cases.

Kuciemba was subsequently infected and he then infected his wife, who ended up in ICU on a ventilator.

The California Supreme Court just ruled against Kuciemba on the basis that a victory, while, in the court's words, "morally" the right thing to do, would create "dire financial consequences for employers" and cause a "dramatic expansion of liability" to stop the spread of covid.

There’s a few stunning details to note in this case. First, the court agreed that there is no doubt the company had ignored the San Francisco health ordinance. In other words, they accepted the company had broken the law. And then concluded “yeah, but, capitalism.”

Secondly, the case was so obviously important to the struggle between capitalism and mass infection that the US Chamber of Commerce, the largest business lobbying organisation got involved and helped the company with its defence. Remember, this is a tiny company in a niche industry. The involvement of the biggest business lobbyists in the country tells us a lot about the importance of the principle they knew was at stake.

Thirdly, the defence of the company is very telling. They said “There is simply no limit to how wide the net will be cast: the wife who claims her husband caught COVID-19 from the supermarket checker, the husband who claims his wife caught it while visiting an elder care home." 

Well, exactly. Capitalism couldn’t survive if employers were liable for covid infections contracted in the workplace, and the ripple effect of those infections. And they know it. 

This case is something of a covid smoking gun, revealing what we always suspected but had never seen confirmed in so many words: the public health imperative of controlling a pandemic virus by making employers liable for some of that control is, and always must be, secondary to capitalist profit. 

This ruling is also saying out loud what has been obvious to anyone paying attention for the last two years: employers don’t have a responsibility to keep your family safe from covid. You have that responsibility. And if you give a family member covid that you caught at work and they get sick or die – even if it was a result of law-breaking by your employer – that’s on you buddy.

It is the same old capitalist story: the shunting of responsibility for ills that should be shared across society, including employers in that society, onto individuals.

This ruling essentially helps codify workplace mass infection and justifies it as necessary for the smooth functioning of capitalism.

This is not new. This is where the ‘just a cold’ and the ‘mild' narrative came from. It came from doctors and healthcare experts whose first loyalty was to capitalism. Not to public health. To money, not to lives. Abetted by media who uncritically platformed them.

While this ruling tells us little that we couldn’t already see from the public policy approach of the last two years, it is revealing (and to some extent validating) to see it confirmed by the highest law of the land in the United States. 

#covid 19 #capitalism #eugenics #class war

[vanillanaps]

Not So Forbidden | Bucky Barnes

Summary: You were upset after a mishap that happened so your favorite bodyguard came to comfort you with good news.

A/n: I watched a movie called First Daughter and got inspired to write something cute and soft. It's kinda ass tho so beware.

Category: Bodyguard!Bucky x President’s Daughter!Reader

Warnings: Reader is 23, Bucky is in his late 20s/Early 30s, some crying on the readers part, the ending is rushed cause my creativity ran out lmao

Word Count: 1.8k

♡♡♡♡

“Care Bear secured.” One of your many bodyguards called into the mic that hid in the sleeve of his blazer as you crossed the threshold to your room, slamming the door behind you.

Just moments ago you had been dragged from an outing with one of your very very few friends as your bodyguards thought there had been an opposing threat. Turns out, there was just a loose dog running the streets and had scared a few people, but they had refused to take you back to your friend and continued to drive you back to the oversized house that you had been calling home for the last eight years.

You missed having the freedom you used to have before your mom decided to run to be President of the United States and won. It was like everything changed in the blink of an eye for you. Once a little girl who could run amok outside without a care in the world to a girl who had to be the perfect child for her mothers sake. Of course before, you were happy your mother was chasing her dreams and doing what she had always planned to do when she was growing up, you just wish that you knew that it’d come with sacrificing your public and private life.

A knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts, wiping your tears and clearing your throat, “I said I wanted to be alone.”

“It’s me.” The voice called. You recognized it immediately.

James Buchanan Barnes or as you would call him, Bucky. He was the head of your security team and ironically, one of your best friends. Bucky had been at your side nearly every day for the last five years when he got promoted to head bodyguard. In your opinion, he should have truly been a bodyguard for your mother. He had always done a superb job at keeping you safe, neutralizing threats and knowing when it was actually time to pull you from somewhere that may have started to get dangerous or too crowded.

Walking over to unlock the door, not even bothering to open it because you knew he already had his hand on the knob just waiting to push through. Shutting the door behind him, he watched as you walked over to your vanity, still trying to dry your eyes.

“What happened?” Bucky asked, slowly approaching up behind you.

“Oh, your buddies didn’t call it out to you?” You scoffed, shaking your head, “Apparently a stray dog running the streets is a threat to my safety now and they whisked me out of there, leaving my friend behind and all.”

“They were just doing their job.” He tried to reason with you, but he knew how much you hated not being able to do the simple things in life without stuff like this happening.

Turning to look at him, you furrowed your eyebrows at him, “Right, so where were you? Where was the knight to save his damsel in distress from a damn dog? Isn’t that your job? To be by the helpless princess’s side twenty-four-seven?”

“I was in a meeting with your mother.” He stepped closer to you, “I’m sorry, if I was there, that wouldn’t have happened—but you can’t be upset with them doing what they are paid heavily to do.”

“God Bucky, I know, I know. I’m not mad at them, I’m—” You huffed, taking a deep breath as you tried to control your tears, “I’m mad at the fact that I will never have a normal life. Everywhere I go, there’s a group of big beefy men following me around, cameras flashing in my face, news reporters covering every little thing I do. My skirt too short? I’m a slut. I don’t smile in a picture? I’m the president’s stuck up daughter. If I smile too much? I’m faking it for the cameras. Almost every friend I’ve tried to make in those short two years I went to college? Just using me to get popular while talking about me behind my back. I just can’t win.”

Bucky sighed, “I know..”

“No, Bucky, honestly you don’t. Every day, when I walk out of this god forsaken place, I have to put on a smile and a personality that doesn’t belong to me. Everything that I do reflects on my mother and what kind of daughter would I be if I ruined something that she worked so hard for?” You ranted, “I mean, she’s the first female President of the United States. She’s making history and I’m so proud of her, but it cost me everything, Bucky, everything. To the point where I can’t even hold the hand of the man I love in public because he’s my bodyguard.”

“Come here.” He held his hand out which you gladly took as he pulled you into his body, wrapping his arms tightly around you, “I’m sorry, baby.”

You relaxed in his embrace, sighing as you buried your face into his chest, smelling that cologne you bought for him not too long ago, “You have nothing to be sorry for, it’s not your fault.”

Kissing the crown of your head, slowly rocking the two of you from side to side, “I can’t change what happened earlier, I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I can’t change the reality of the life you live, but if I could pull you through a portal and take you to a universe where you were just a normal girl, I would. But there is one thing I can change.

Smiling softly at his words, you pulled back a little to be able to look up into those blue eyes that you loved so much, “Yeah? What’s that?”

He returned the smile, bringing his hand up to cup your face, his thumb slowly stroking your cheek, “Your mother said something similar to me earlier,”

A FEW HOURS EARLIER…

Bucky knocked on the door that led to the oval office after he was requested there.

“Enter!” His boss's voice called.

“Madam President.” He addressed her, keeping his position by the door, “You wanted to see me?”

“Ah, yes, Mr. Barnes. Please, shut the door and have a seat.”

He followed her wishes, shutting the door and sitting in a chair that was adjacent to her desk, “Is everything okay, Madam President?”

She smiled, moving her stack of paperwork to the side and taking off her glasses, “Everything is fine, James. No need to worry. And please, right now you may call me Diane.” Bucky’s heart was beating out of his chest, was this a set up? Was he being tested? Was she being threatened? A thousand thoughts flew through his head as he thought something was wrong, but before he could ask, Diane spoke again, “You may call me Diane because I didn’t call you here to talk to you about presidential or security reasons. I called you here to speak to you as a Mother to Y/n.”

Bucky gulped, deciding to play it cool, “I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

Diane chuckled, “James, do you take me as a fool?”

“Of course not, Madam President.” He answered quickly, playing it safe just in case this was a test.

She sat back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other and folding her hands over her lap, “Five years ago, when my only daughter turned 18, I knew that whether I was president or not, I wasn’t going to be able to keep an eye on her forever. That eventually, she’d want to venture off on her own and I wouldn’t be able to stop her. I needed someone who I could trust to keep an eye on her while she tried to navigate her life. I was talking to your father about you before his passing. He was telling me how dedicated you were to your job, even if you were only guarding a door, so I promoted you to Y/n’s head bodyguard as I promised him that you’d always have a job here as long as I was president.”

Bucky’s eyes glossed over at the mentioning of his father’s passing. It may have been some years, but you’d never truly get over the loss of a parent passing, “I’m not sure If I understand what we’re talking about.”

Diane continued, “James, over these last few years, I’ve been how close you and y/n have grown. Your secret whispers, inside jokes, the looks you give each other when you think no one’s looking, the way you look at her when you think no one is watching. Even sneaking out almost every night.” His head dropped. This was it, he was getting fired. He had broken the number one rule and fell for his boss’s daughter. He went to speak, but Diane kept going before he could, “And I want to thank you for being there for her and making all of this the smallest bit easier for her.”

When Bucky slowly looked up, he saw Diane with probably the most genuine smile he’d ever seen from her, “You do?”

She nodded, “After I was elected President, I knew life for the two of us would never be the same. That we’d always be in the public eye and crucified for everything that we do, which is why in those first few years of my presidency, I shielded her from it. Kept her in the house and out of the public eye for as long as possible and the best thing I could've ever done was make you her bodyguard because you make her happy. She’s sacrificed so much for me, what type of mother would I be if I kept her from being with the only person who makes her feel normal?” She questioned, more so to herself than to Bucky, “Do you love my daughter?”

“More than anything in this world.”

“Then who am I to stand in between love?

PRESENT…

Your eyes were wide and filled with tears as Bucky told you what happened in the meeting with him and your mother. To say you were shocked was an understatement. You were so sure that you and Bucky were being careful enough not to get caught, “She knew this whole time?”

He nodded, “And she’s okay with it. She just wants you to be happy.” You couldn’t stop the smile that took over your face before you excitedly pulled him into a kiss. Bucky gladly returned the kiss, titling his head to deepen it. His hands traveled down to your waist, gripping the flesh to lift you up into his arms. Your legs naturally wrapped around his waist as he carried you to your bed and laid the two of you down on it, “I’m gonna marry you one day.” He mumbled against your lips, “I’m gonna take you away from all this. Maybe move to the country, somewhere far away from others and give you all the normalcy and privacy that you crave today.” A soft sob left your lips as you pressed your forehead against his, “Until then, I’ll be here, right by your side until your mother finishes her Presidency.”

“I love you so much.” You sighed, listening to his words.

“I love you more, baby.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fic #marvel fic #bodyguard!bucky x reader #bodyguard!bucky #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female reader

[hangmansgbaby]

Always Darling | 0.5 | J.Seresin

T H E E A R L Y Y E A R S

Summary: The prequel to “Always Darling” and the events leading up to the Uranium Mission

Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OC!Willow "Vixen" Seresin, brief mentions of Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x OC Daughter!Willow "Vixen" Seresin and Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x OC God Sister!Willow "Vixen" Seresin

Warnings: fluff, its fucking cute in here

Note: the overwhelming love for this series 😍😍 I love you all! THERE WILL BE A PART 3!

Apr 2024 note: I did end up updating this into an OC as I dont write my series as a reader insert anymore.

Word count: 6.1k words (my brain couldn’t stop! I’m sorry for the length!”

Masterlist | Always Darling Masterlist

2001, Boarding School, Connecticut

“Miss Mitchell?”

“Yes, headmistress?”

“My office, please.”

18 year old Willow Mitchell was a staple in the Headmistress’s office since her first day at the all girls boarding school her father had dropped her off at freshman year. The headmistress had taken the 14 year old “troubled student” under her wing the minute the young girl entered campus, even bringing the young girl home for the holidays.

“Miss Mitchell-“

“Please, just Willow. We aren’t strangers.” She laughs.

“Willow, how’s the college search going?” Headmistress Stacy Sutherland questions.

“Fantastic. I got an acceptance to UT Austin, Oklahoma, Oklahoma State, UCLA, USC, and NYU but I’m not going to any of them.” Willow answers.

“Oh? Not going to college?”

“Actually,”Willow pulls a folder out of her backpack and sets it on the desk.

“You’re interested in the Naval Academy?”

“Accepted. Stacy, I got into the Naval Academy!” She smiles brightly.

“That’s amazing! I bet your father is so proud!”

Willow sighs. She hadn’t told her dad, not like he’d pick up the phone anyways. “Yea. I bet.”

“Will he be here for graduation?”

“I don’t know, I sent the invite but-“ she shrugs.

He didn’t show. Willow expected nothing less from the man who up and dropped her off 4 years ago, never coming back. It really surprised her though to see all of her dad’s Top Gun buddies present. Ice, Slider, Wolfman, and Hollywood. She hadn’t noticed their presence until the middle of the Ceremony. With only 40 graduates in her class, it wasn’t long until her name was called

“Miss Willow Mitchell. Valedictorian. United States Naval Academy.” If the sheer magnitude of cheers just for her wasn’t clear enough, the four grown men who jumped from their seats definitely showed Willow that someone out there still cared besides the headmistress.

“Hi!” Willow smiles as Slider runs up to her. He wraps his arms around her, lifting her into a bear hug.

“Hey Uncle Slider.” She laughs as he sets her down.

“Hey little bird.” Only Iceman called her that, claiming she was Maverick’s mini me as a child.

“Hey Uncle Ice.” She gives him a side hug before acknowledging the other two aviators present.

“Where’s your dad?”

“Not here. As per usual.” She sighs. “Can we not talk about how shitty my dad is? I’m thinking lunch and then you guys can take me wherever and then do drop off day at the academy?”

“You don’t wanna see him?”

Willow shakes her head, leading the aviators towards the parking lot. “Y’all coming or what?”

2005, Naval Academy, Maryland

Willow was speed walking through campus, her last class was late releasing so she was already late for her next class. And as if her day couldn’t get any worse she had to literally run into someone, knocking both too the ground and the other person’s coffee all down the front of her.

“Dammit.” Willow mutters, assessing the damage done to her outfit.

“I’m so sorry darlin. You alright?” Willow looks up to the guy she collided with, the voice certainly matching the face and those strikingly green eye- “Darlin?”

“What?” She snaps out of her gaze, looking around to recollect where she was. “Oh, yea. I’m fine. Can’t say the same for my hoodie.” She replies, looking down at the coffee stain.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve been watching where I was going. I can get you a new one, or pay for dry cleaning or whatever you need.” He rambles, pulling her up from the ground.

“It’s all good, I’m just gonna head back to my room and change. Apparently I really wasn’t destined to make it to class today.” She chuckles. “Sorry about your coffee.”

“Make it up by going to lunch with me? I know this little place downtown that has really good sandwiches.”

“Sure, I’ll meet you out front of the school in say, 30 minutes?”

“Perfect. I’m Jake by the way.” He juts his hand out. It was only then that Willow truly realized she was making plans with a complete stranger.

“Willow.” She takes his hand, shaking it lightly. They stand there for another few seconds. Willow was completely lost in his eyes, the color so different from the green she grew up looking at. She liked them, definitely ones she could get lost in forever.

Jake cleared his throat, pulling his hand back. “I’ll see you in 30?”

“Y-yea.” She smiles before quickly running off back to her dorm.

“Hey, did class get canceled?” Her roommate, Natasha Trace, questions from her bed.

“Nope.” She answers, stripping her outfit and immediately pulling on another pair of jeans. “I have a date now.”

“Oh? Tell me everything!” Nat slides across her bed to sit on the edge, now interested in what her roommate and best friend had to say.

“When I get back. We’re going to lunch.” Willow walks over to the bathroom, pulling out her make up bag.

“At least tell me who it is!”

“His name is Jake.” Willow chuckles, applying light makeup.

“Blonde, green eyes?”

“Yea, how’d you know?”

“Willow! That’s Jake Seresin! He’s the school playboy!”

“He doesn't seem that bad.” Willow sighs.

“Do you want me to name all the girls he’s slept with? Cause it’s not a pretty number.”

“I’ll be fine Nat. I gotta go. Don’t wait up!” She calls, running out of the room.

“Hey there darlin. Ready to go?” Jake smiles as Willow jogs up to him.

“Yep.” She smiles. He holds his arm out and she loops hers into his. “So where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.” He leads her towards a truck parked at the front of the parking lot, opening the passenger door for her.

Jake wasn’t kidding when he said they had the best sandwiches. They had to have spent at least 5 hours at that table, laughing, talking, and just enjoying each other’s company.

“So he just left you at a boarding school?” Jake questions.

“Yea. I haven’t seen him since then.” Willow answers, taking a sip of her coffee.

“You think he’s gonna show up to graduation next month?”

“Unless my uncle has said something, I doubt he knows I’m here. I bet he’ll find out when I’m a better aviator than him.” Willow chuckles.

“I think you’re gonna be a great pilot, but you're gonna have to fight me for top spot though.”

“You’re going for aviation too?” Willow questions. “It’s only ever been me and my roommate! That’s crazy!”

It was over from there. Jake and Willow spent every possible moment together over the next month. After 2 weeks of hanging out, Jake had officially asked Willow to be his girlfriend over dinner at a romantic waterfront restaurant. 2 weeks later graduation had officially arrived.

The ceremony was long and boring, Willow and Jake were eager to hit the road to his hometown where they would spend their month-long leave before they were to report to flight school.

“Ensign Mitchell!” Willow turns to spot Iceman and Slider walking towards her.

“Admiral Kazansky.” She salutes him.

“Congratulations little bird.” He smiles, pulling her into a hug.

“Thank you Uncle Ice.” She smiles into the hug.

“Alright let me in!” Slider pulls Willow away from Ice into his own hug.

“We are so proud of you, Willow!”

“Thank you, Slider.”

Jake clears his throat walking towards the group.

“Hey, Jake! This is Admiral Kazansky and Rear Admiral Kerner. Guys this is my boyfriend, Ensign Jake Seresin.” Willow smiles as Jake shakes hands with her uncles.

“It's a pleasure to meet you both. Willow talks highly of both of you.” Jake greets.

“So what are your plans now that you’re officially out of the Academy?” Ice questions.

“We have a month leave before we both report to flight school so we were planning to go to Texas where his family is.”

“You’re both going into aviation?”

“Yes sir.” Jake answers.

“I look forward to seeing both of you at Top Gun one day then.” Ice smiles, pride beaming in his eyes.

“As much as I love seeing you guys, we gotta get on the road soon. But I’ll see you soon okay?” Willow smiles, grabbing Jake’s hand.

“Of course. Good luck.” Ice nods as Willow and Jake start walking off but he quickly calls out to them. “Ensign Seresin!” Jake turns back to see Ice calling him over. Jake releases Willow’s hand, returning to stand before him. “Willow is like a daughter to me. You take good care of her.”

“Yes sir.” Jake nods before Ice dismisses him, running back over to Willow and leading her to his car.

2005, Seresin Ranch, Texas

“Uncle Jake!” Jake drops to his knee as 2 little twin girls come running towards him, throwing all of their weight into him.

“Hey! Theres my 2 favorite nieces!” He laughs picking both of them up. Willow laughs watching the interaction as she pulls their duffels from the back seat. “Darlin you put those bags down, I’ll come back and get them.” Jake turns to see her lifting both bags to her shoulders.

“I’m capable of carrying our bags, Jake. Besides, it looks like those 2 got your hands full.” Willow walks both of the bags towards the house right behind Jake.

“Maddelyn and Gracelyn! I told you two not to run outside!” An almost perfect copy of Jake runs up to the door, her long blond hair pulled up into a ponytail, bright green eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses.

“I got them, Nanc. They’re just excited to see their favorite uncle.” Jake teases, walking past his sister.

“You’re their only uncle, smartass.” His sister turns around to see Willow still standing on the porch, laughing at their sibling banter. “Oh you must be Jake's girlfriend! I’m Nancy, Jake’s older sister. Mama and Daddy are in the kitchen if you wanna come in and say hi.”

Willow nods and follows Nancy through the living room. She drops the bags by the stairs as Nancy directs and follows her through the house.

“Oh Jakey look at you!”

“Jakey?” Willow giggles softly at the nickname.

“Hey only Mama calls me that.” Jake turns to Willow pointing at her as serious as can be..

“Oh you must be Willow! You’re even prettier than Jake described!”

“Hi. It’s lovely to meet you Mrs. Seresin.” Willow smiles, holding out her hand to shake his mothers.

“Oh please! You can call me Mama. Everyone does.” Mama pulls Willow into a hug instead of shaking her hand.

“Mama, we talked about this. Don’t smother the poor girl.” Jake chuckles at Willow’s face, laced with shock of how quickly she was welcomed.

“Oh of course. Why don’t you two head upstairs and get cleaned up for dinner? Maybe even take a nap. I’m sure that drive was horrible.”

“Thanks Mama.” Jake presses a kiss to his mom’s cheek before turning to Willow. “After you darlin.” Willow tried to pick up her duffel when Jake smacked her hand. “I’m carrying these. Upstairs, 3 doors on the left.”

Sighing, Willow walks up ahead of Jake, admiring the hundreds of photos of the Seresin family that line the walls. Opening the door, Willow stares in awe of Jake’s childhood bedroom.

“Welcome to my sanctuary.” Jake laughs, sliding past Willow.

“This is not what I imagined your bedroom would look like.” She walks over to the bookshelf in the far corner, gazing over the books, photographs and awards that littered the shelves.

“What? Expected it to look more like my dorm room?” Jake questions, sitting at the foot of the bed.

“Something like that.” Willow moves to stand between his legs, arms wrapping around his neck while Jake’s wrap around her waist. “Your family seems nice.”

“You haven’t even met half of them. Amy and Megan are heading back from college right now and Jess will be here for dinner.”

“4 sisters? No wonder you completely understand all of the shit me and Nat say.” Willow laughs.

“Yea.” Jake smiles. “So… nap?”

“Or maybe, a little fun?” Willow flirts, leaning further into Jake.

“Oh really?” Jake smiles, pulling Willow in for a kiss. “And what kind of fun would you be interested in?”

“Oh you know exactly what I’m interested in.” Willow straddles his waist, pushing Jake backwards on the bed.

“Oh I have a few ideas.” His signature smirk plays on his lips as he pulls her onto the bed, flipping to pin her.

2007, NAS Pensacola, Florida

“Please be sure to let us know if there is any family attending Saturday’s Ceremony.”

Willow sighed, grabbing the paperwork from before her.

“Hey darlin. Ready to go?” Jake meets her outside at their car.

“Yea.” Willow sighs, walking past Jake and immediately climbing in.

“Are you okay?” Jake questions, starting up the car.

“Yea, long day.” Willow sighs, leaning back in the passenger seat.

The drive to their off base home was silent, Jake already knew what was up. The pinning ceremony is a big deal. After they receive their wings, they’ll choose their specialty aircrafts and before long, they’re in the running for a Top Gun session. Jake’s family was already packing to head down for his pinning ceremony and he knew Iceman and Slider weren't able to make it for Willow. So with her father not in her life anymore and her uncles unavailable. That left their Captain to pin her while everyone else had family to do it.

As soon as they pulled up, Willow immediately went inside and jumped in the shower. Jake sighed watching the retreating figure of his girlfriend. Pulling out his phone, he quickly dialed Ice’s number hoping to get through to him.

“Kazansky residence.” The female voice rang through.

“Hey, it's Jake. Is Iceman around?”

“Mom! Willow’s boyfriend is calling for Dad!” Jake chuckles at Ice’s daughter’s unwillingness to talk on the phone.

“Give me that.” Sarah says, most likely pulling the phone from her daughter. “Hey Jake, sorry Tom is on a carrier, left yesterday. Something I can do for you?”

“It’s alright Mrs. Kazansky. Ice said he might be able to clear his schedule for this weekend. Just wanted to check in with him.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You and Willow are getting your wings this weekend huh?”

“Yes ma’am. Willow’s feeling a little down cause my family will be there to pin me and she doesn’t have anyone. Was just hoping something would come through at the last minute.” Jake sighs.

“I’m sorry honey. You know I’d be there in a heartbeat if the kids didn't have school.”

“It’s alright. Thanks for letting me know Mrs. Kazansky.”

“Of course dear. I’ll see you both at Thanksgiving alright?”

“Yes ma’am.” Jake ends the call as soon as he hears the shower shut off. He immediately runs to the room, stripping down to his boxers and jumping on the bed before Willow comes out in shorts and a t-shirt.”Well hello beautiful.” Jake’s signature smirk plays out on his face, eyes following Willow as she walks around to her side of the bed. “Darlin?” Willow doesn’t say a word, only laying down and turning off the lamp by her. “Willow, I know you’re upset over the pinning ceremony. If you want, I’m sure my mom will gladly pin you.”

“Just forget it Jake. I’m fine with the Captain pinning me.” Willow sighs, still facing away from Jake. “I’m going to bed.”

Jake sighs, facing the back of her head. “I’m sorry, Willow. I wish I could do something about this.” Willow sighed before rolling over.

“It’s not your fault my only family is an asshole. Or that my uncles have responsibilities to the Navy.” She places a hand on his cheek. “It’s always going to suck and there’s nothing we can do. No matter who pins me, so long as I get pinned I could care less.” Willow smiles softly as she looks into Jake’s eyes. “You have such a big heart, Jake. And I appreciated you wanting to make this special for me.”

“I love you.”

“What?” Willow sits up, eyes still never leaving Jake’s. In the 2 years they had been together, neither one had ever said those 3 words, choosing to go slow in their relationship, despite already living together.

“I… I love you, Willow.” Jake says, sitting up with her. “I have since that day we ran into each other.”

“I-I…” Willow stutters, still in shock from Jake saying it.

“You don’t have to say it back, darlin. But I will always love you.”

“I love you too.” Willow smiles, Jake’s eyes light up. “I love you so much!” She shouts, tackling Jake to the bed.

2011, NAS North Island, California

“Hey Vixen! You coming out with us?”

“I don’t know guys. We have a big day tomorrow.” Willow sighs.

“Come on! You never go out with us anymore.” One of the other girls chimed in.

“That’s because you all go out to get laid and I get left alone at the bar.” Willow points out, sitting down on the couch in the pilot lounge.

“So then we will find you a guy to go home with before we ever try for hours.”

Willow is about to protest when another voice interrupts. “I don’t know about you but I’m pretty sure her boyfriend wouldn’t appreciate that.”

“Jake!” Willow jumps up, pushing past her fellow pilots and WSOs to reach her boyfriend who stands in the doorway. “What are you doing here!?” She questions, wrapping herself around her boyfriend.

“Can’t surprise my best girl?” Jake mutters into the crook of her neck, holding her tightly.

The couple had seen each other a total of 6 months in the last 3 years because of deployments and detachments. When Willow got the call from Top Gun, she immediately called Jake to share news. Though her excitement faded when she found out that not only had Jake not gotten called as well, but he was shipping out 2 days before she was to arrive in California for the Indian Ocean.

“I will always take a surprise but you weren’t supposed to be back until after my session. What happened? Is everything okay?” Willow pulls back immediately, worry lacing her voice.

“Everything is okay, we finished the mission early so they sent us home. Not happy to see me?”

“Of course I’m happy to see you.” Willow smiles, kissing her boyfriend of 5 years.

“Plus, I would never miss my gorgeous girlfriend graduating top of her class at Top Gun.”

“I'm not gonna be top of the class.” Willow laughs as Jake leads her away from the other pilots.

“Bullshit! I know you hate it but Darlin you are Pete Mitchell’s daughter. It’s in your genetics. And you’ve had Iceman coaching you the whole way. You’ll be top of the class. I know it.”

And Jake certainly was right, and a year later, Jake was top of his class. Ice looked on proudly as Willow and Jake took pictures with the Top Gun trophy at Jake’s graduation. The bright smile on Willow’s face as Jake held her close, pressing random kisses to her cheek as Phoenix and Coyote took pictures of them, made Iceman smile to himself. He always wanted Willow to find her own family after everything and she did.

“Congratulations Lieutenant Seresin.” Ice smiles, walking up to the group.

“Thank you Admiral Kazansky.”

“I’m hosting a celebratory dinner at my house. Phoenix, Coyote, you are both welcome to join us.”

“We’d be honored sir.” Phoenix nods. “I’ll send these to you, Vix. I got a couple errands to run.” Phoenix gives Willow a quick hug. “Congrats again, Hangman.”

“Thanks Phoenix.” Jake nods. “I have a surprise for you.” Jake whispers to Willow. “Wanna sneak out of here?”

“Hell yeah. Lead the way.” Willow smiles.

Jake pulls up to a secluded part of the beach, quickly climbing out and running around to Willow’s door and opening it for her. “Darlin.” Jake bows, holding a hand out for Willow. She laughs as she lets him guide her away from the truck.

“The beach? Jake, I’ve been to the beach before.” Willow laughs.

“Oh trust me. I know darlin.” Jake winks. “No, that's not your surprise.” Jake lead’s Willow across the sand towards the waterfront. “Willow, darlin, you know I love you, right.”

“Of course. You know I love you?”

“Always Darlin.” Jake smiles. “I want to promise you something.” Jake says, pulling a small box out of his pocket.

“Jake-“ Willow tries to stop him but Jake quickly cuts her off.

“It’s not a proposal darlin. I know you aren’t ready for it.”

“It's not that I’m not ready. We're just getting started in our careers.”

“I know, Darlin. Which is why this is a promise ring.” Jake opens the box to show the dainty ring. The helix design completes the circle. “A promise that you are it for me. That one day and we are both good and ready. I will trade this out for an engagement ring and I’ll marry you and only you.”

“Jake-“ Willow smiles, tears in her eyes as she stares at the ring. Jake slowly slips the ring onto her ring finger, kissing on top of it as it settles.

“I love you, Willow.”

“I love you too, Jake.”

“I have some not so good news though.” Jake says, fiddling with the ring.

“What?”

“I got pulled onto a mission. We leave tomorrow and won't be back for 6 months.”

“Oh.” Willow looks towards her hand as Jake continues to fiddle with the ring. “It’s a dangerous one isn’t it?” She questions, still not meeting his eyes.

“Yea, darlin. It’s not the safest.” Jake lifts her chin to look her in the eyes. “But I promise, I will do everything to come home to you.”

“You better. Cause if this,” she holds up her hand, “don't get upgraded one day, I’m gonna hurt you.” Willow laughs as Jake starts laughing with her.

“I will always come home to you.”

2012, USS Rosevelt, Atlantic Ocean

Jake had yet to meet his bunkmate since arriving on the carrier. His biggest hope was that it wasn’t someone who would constantly bring a lover in every night but he also just wanted someone bearable for the next half a year.

“Hey man, it’s good to meet you.”

Jake turns from his desk and his blood runs cold. He recognizes the pictures from Ice’s house. He is staring into the same eyes that were pictured next to Willow for years. “Yea, Lieutenant Jake Seresin. Callsign Hangman.” Jake nods, shaking the outstretched hand of the man before him.

“Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw. Rooster.”

The next 6 months was going to be nothing but torture to Jake. In an attempt to keep the peace, he never let Rooster see the photos of Willow, nor did he talk about her around him. He also never mentioned his bunkmate when he got the opportunity to call Willow. But that didn’t stop either of them from questioning Jake about the other.

“So do you like your bunkmate?” Willow questions, her laptop set up on the desk before her.

“He’s not bad. Little annoying, terribly slow flier.”

Willow chuckles at his complaint. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, darlin. 4 more months.”

“4 more months.” She sighs. “Can you give me any updates on the mission?”

“You know I can’t. But I can tell you that it’s gonna be awhile before we can talk again.”

“Oh-“

“Hey Hangman! We’re going to Target’s room for a couple of beers, you comin?”

“Is that Bradley?” Willow questions.

“Uh, not tonight Rooster. I’m on a call.” Jake shouts back.

“Oh is it the mysterious Vixen?” Bradley’s face pops up onto the screen and Willow hides her face.

“Jake I gotta go.”

“Okay Darlin. I love-“ the call ended before he could say anything.

“Damn, you must’ve really pissed her off.”

“Yea, that wasn’t me.” Jake sighs, closing the laptop and making his way towards his room.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rooster questions, following him.

“It’s not my place, Rooster.”

“Not your place? Who the fuck is your girlfriend man?”

“You know her a lot better than you think.” Jake mumbles, grabbing his shower gear from the bottom of the closet.

“Willow? Little Willow? You’re dating my little sister?”

“God sister. And I seem to remember you haven’t talked to her since ‘97.” Jake nearly growls at Bradley. “So don’t act all high and mighty. She doesn’t claim you so don’t claim her.”

“Lieutenants. Suit up, we’re heading out.”

“The mission’s not for another week.” Bradley protests.

“Change of plans.”

2012, NAS North Island, California

Willow groans leaning against the chair of the office. She sits in the silence of her office before Ice enters.

“Hey little bird. Everything alright?”

“Yea, I just haven’t heard anything from Jake.” She pauses. “You know Bradley’s there.” Willow sighs, her hand coming up to rub her face.

“I do.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“You said you didn’t give two shits about what Bradley and your father were doing. I was just doing what you asked.” Ice retorts.

Suddenly Willow’s phone rings, she stands moving across her office as she answers. “Hello?” She immediately met with the constant rambling from the other side. “Woah, slow down. Nancy, what happened?” She questions, walking around her rooms again.

“Mama just got a call from a restricted number and now she won’t stop crying!”

“Shit, gimme a second.” Willow mutes herself and sets the phone down on her desk.“What happened?” She questions Ice.

“What do you mean?”

“Nancy.” Willow points to her phone. “Jake’s mom won’t stop crying after getting a call from a restricted number. What happened to Jake?”

“He’s MIA, Willow. I’m sorry.”

“No.” Willow gasps. “No, no, no. This cannot be happening.” Willow drops into the chair beside her.

“Willow, I’m so sorry.” Ice moves around the desk to pull Willow into a hug.

“They gotta find him.” She cries. “They need to find him.”

“On my orders, they aren’t going to stop looking for him.” Ice comforts.

“Please, dad. I don’t wanna lose him.” Ice froze. He’d always considered Willow like a daughter but she had never called him dad before.

“I promise little bird. They’re gonna find him.”

“Willow?! What’s going on?”

“Shit. Nancy.” Willow scrambles over to her phone. She quickly wipes her tears and takes a deep breath. “Hey, uhm, Jake’s MIA.”

“Holy shit. Are they looking for him?”

“Yea. Yea it’s a non-stop search right now. I'll transfer any updates to me and I’ll let you know. So that way Mama doesn’t have to go through it over and over.”

“Okay. Keep me posted. I’m gonna get Mama to bed. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yea, Talk later.”

“Hey, Willow?”

“Yea?”

“Take care of yourself. It’s not just you anymore.”

“Of course.” Willow ends the call, tossing her phone back onto the desk, she leans back into Ice’s hold, the tears returning.

“It’s okay, let it out.” Ice mutters, holding Willow close.

“I’m pregnant.” Willow cries.

“What?”

“I’m pregnant, dad. I can’t lose him. We can’t lose him.” She rests a hand on her stomach. She had just found out about two weeks ago, 6 weeks after Jake had left. She didn’t have the will to tell Jake, while he was gone.

2013, USS Rosevelt, Atlantic Ocean

3 months. It had been 3 months since Jake disappeared and despite every rule in the Navy, Willow was pacing Ice’s office on the carrier, 21 weeks pregnant. As soon as word came in that they might’ve found him, Ice immediately took off to the carrier and despite his protests Willow was right behind him.

“What do we have on his location?” Ice questions.

“They raided an enemy bunker. There’s signs that he was there recently. He can’t be far but they’re still looking.”

“Keep looking. Do not stop until there is physical proof he’s dead.”

“Yes sir.” Ice dismisses the Commander and turns to Willow.

“Sit d-“

“Don’t.”

“Willow, stressing is not good for the baby.” He sighs.

“Jake being dead isn't good for the baby. Or me.” Willow snaps back.

“He’s not dead.”

“It's been 3 months!”

“And there is no proof he’s gone.”

“But there’s no proof he’s alive.” Willow sighs, her pacing continuing.

“Willow, I am already allowing you to break rules. Sit down, please.”

“Fine, only if you take it easy too.” Willow protests.

“I’m fine, Willow.”

Willow shoots him a knowing look. “You’re missing treatments for this.”

“Willow, I’m fine, trust me.” Suddenly a Lieutenant barges into the office.

“Admiral Kazansky, Lieutenant Mitchell. We found him.”

“Jake!” Willow runs up to the stretcher as they wheeled him away from the helicopter.

“Ma’am we need you to step back.”

“She’s his next of kin. She goes with him.” Ice shouts, following behind them.

“Oh god baby. Oh my god.”

“He’s malnourished and dehydrated but other than that he’s going to be just fine, physically.” One of the medics rattle off.

“Physically?” Willow questions.

“He’s been through hell and back, Lieutenant. There’s no telling what that did to him mentally.”

“Oh god, Jake.”

Willow sat up from the makeshift bed she had made on the chair in the hospital room. She was already majorly uncomfortable because of the pregnancy but the chair was definitely not helping. 3 days in the chair definitely didn’t help her back either.

“Lieutenant Mitchell?”

“Yes?” She turns to spot the doctor in the doorway.

“How are you this afternoon?”

“As well as I can be.”

“You know we can still move a cot in here, we’d much prefer it, including Admiral Kazansky.” The doctor insists as she checks Jake’s vitals.

“I’m alright. How is he?” She asks, stepping up to the bedside, reaching to hold Jake’s hand.

“Better. We started weaning him off the medication keeping him under last night. He should be waking up soon. If he does wake, let us know if there is anything wrong. Otherwise a nurse will come in on her rounds.”

“Thank you.” She turns back to Jake, who for once in the last 3 days looked peaceful. She sighs, reaching up to brush loose hair back.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize anyone would be in here.” Willow turns and quickly turns back around, electing to not saying anything to the figure that just walked in. “How are you?”

“You’ll have to go, only one person is allowed in here.” She responds.

“Willow…”

“Leave me alone.”

“Come on, we haven’t seen each other in years. Why don't we go up to the mess hall? Catch up.” Bradley continues, walking further into the room.

“I said leave me alone, Lieutenant Bradshaw. Or do I need to call an Admiral?” Willow seeths, still not turning towards the door.

“Fine. Don't say I never tried.” She rolls her eyes as she hears the door close behind him. Sighing, she turns away from to bed to pour herself a glass of water when she suddenly hears a groan. She quickly turns to see Jake trying to sit up. “Hey, hey, hey. It's okay, don’t get up.”

“What? Willow?” Jake questions, voice hoarse from the lack of use.

“Hi baby. It's me.”

“I thought I’d never see you again.” He cries, pulling Willow into a tight hug, or as tight as his weakened body could muster.

“Neither did we.” She says softly, holding Jake close.

“We?” He pulls back for the hug, looking for a correction but only gets a worried smile.

“We.” She softly moves his hand to rest on her small bump.

“Holy shit.” Jake says, barely above a whisper, eyes wide. “I’m gonna be a dad?”

“Yea, yea Jake.”

“Oh my god!” He pulls her back into a hug, practically dragging her on top of him. “Holy shit! We're gonna be parents.”

2013, NAS North Island, California

“So you’re telling me, you have no idea the gender nor what you’re going to name them?” Phoenix asks, taking a sip of her drink.

“We’ve been so busy, between paperwork and Jake’s test flights, it's been a nightmare to have a calm moment between us.

“Vixen! You’re due any day now!”

“I have ideas! Just nothing settled.”

“Let me hear them.”

“For a boy, Beau.”

“Absolutely not, you wanna name your child after Rear Admiral Simpson?”

“Oh I knew there was no way I truly liked that name. How about Easton?”

“Could be good, Easton Seresin…” Phoenix trails off.

“Nevermind I hate it. Tyler? Tyler Seresin.”

“I think that sounds perfect, darlin.” Jake’s voice comes from the now open front door.

“Hey! How was work?” Willow struggles to stand for the couch but manages, walking over to greet him at the door.

“You know exactly how work was.” He sighs, kissing her gently before heading to the master of their on base house. “Hey Phoenix.”

“Hey Bagman.” Phoenix says. “How about a girl?”

“Only one on my list. Ellorie.”

“That is beautiful. I love it.” Phoenix smiles.

“It is uh?” Willow beams to herself as she walks into the kitchen. “I honestly hope it’s a gi-“

“Willow? You okay?”

“Oh!”

“Willow?” Phoenix jumps up and runs into the kitchen to see Willow standing over a puddle.

“Oh my god.”

“What is it? Is everything okay?”

“Get. Jake. Now.” She says between breaths.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Phoenix curses. “Bagman!”

“What?”

“It’s time!”

“What do you mean it’s time?!”

“Jacob Grant if you don’t get out here right now and get me in the car I am having this baby without you!” Willow shouts as another contraction rolls through.

“I’m coming!” Jake barrels through the hallway, their hospital bag slung over his shoulders. He immediately guides Willow out to his truck, helping her up into the seat while Phoenix drops their bag into the backseat.

“Be safe! Call me when they’re here!” Phoenix shouts as Jake pulls out of the driveway.

“Okay just hold on, darlin.” Jake repeats as Willow grips tightly to the armrest, another contraction ripping through her. “It’s okay Darlin.”

“Stop, you’re not helping.” Willow groans in pain.

“I’m trying to help, but I don’t know what to do.” Jake says, rubbing circles into her hand.

“You can not tell me it’s okay when I’m about to push a baby that most definitely got your big head out of my vagina!” Willow shouts.

“Hey, you like my big head. And we’re going to love theirs. Almost there.”

10 excruciating hours later and Jake and Willow sat in the comfort of their hospital room with their bundle of joy wrapped in their arms.

“Knock knock.”

“Hey! Ice!”

“There’s my two favorite pilots.”

“Hey dad.” Willow smiles. “You wanna meet your honorary granddaughter?”

“It’s a girl?” Ice gasps, walking over to the bedside.

“Ellorie Serena Seresin.” Jake smiles as Ice takes Ellorie from Willow.

“She’s beautiful, Willow. Looks just like you.” Sarah smiles, pulling Willow into a hug.

“I think she looks more like Jake.” Willow laughs.

“Absolutely not, darlin. She definitely looks more like you.” Jake presses a kiss to her head as Ice and Sarah coo over the baby. “You did good, mama.”

“Mama? No more darlin no that the baby is here?” Willow questions.

“Absolutely not. You will always be my darlin but you're also mama now.” Jake’s smiles. “You know I love you?”

“Absolutely. You know I love you too?”

“Always Darlin.”

#top gun #top gun maverick #top gun x oc #jake seresin x oc #jake hangman seresin x oc #jake hangman x oc #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #glen powell #hangman #rooster #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw #tom cruise #pete mitchell #pete maverick mitchell #maverick #always darling js #gbaby always darling #hangmansgbaby #OC!Willow “Vixen” Seresin

[cipheramnesia]

If I was gonna follow up a character from the original Star Wars, it would be one of the storm troopers that got knocked off his bike on Endor, not the one that got eaten by Erik's, but the other guy who limps away and quits the storm troopers in abject disgust after getting his ass handed to him by a combination of teddy bears and inanimate objects followed up by watching the second indestructible superweapon of the empire explode into a million piece again.

So he hides all his gear and bluffs his way off Endor because at that point no one's looking too hard for bad guys, pawns his armor and speeder bike chunks for a ticket into the ass end of nowhere onto one of those planets where it's 90% swamp and humidity, hires on as a ranch hand in some bumfuck cattle farm a thousand kilometers from any spaceport, spends the next four years jabbing the weird hippo-catfish like beasts they raise to supply the greater galaxy with extra tender meat products. He's got a careworn leather poncho and widebrim hat and rides on these heron lookin stilt legged motherfuckers to keep the herds in line.

He keeps his shit secure and himself to himself and far as everyone is concerned he's just a quiet dude, reliable and good with a rifle during the seasonal rush of giant wasps, and doesn't bother anyone. He makes a nice little home and has a little nest egg to maybe start his own ranch one day, someday til one of his old buddies comes spinning out of the sky into the lake outside down in a new order transport ship full of several million bucks worth of high octane space cocaine or whatever, he's been dealing on the side in his unit but almost got caught and had to bug out fast with the latest payload. Only problem is the suppliers and the cartel bosses all think he split with the product to make a quick dollar on his own enterprise.

But neither he nor his deserter buddy know about that he's just some old friend who needs to crash out and lay low while his leg heals up and they haul his little skip out the muck. And honestly no one around there is the type to pry about who skipped out on what draft, everyone has their problems. All up until the cartel and a hundred of their finest killers cruise into town.

They want their product, they want the army buddy's head on a plate, and they want interest paid on their time. It's been years and years since he got pulled into shit like this but in a that time this long past storm trooper has grown a backbone and got tolerably well acquainted with a blaster. There's a hundred killers in town but he's done with running. It's time to start counting.

#star wars #my ocs #storm troopers

[buckttommy]

agreed regardless of the buddie of it all i really think we're in for a great season

YES. Some things I'm looking forward to that aren't necessarily about Buddie(TM), in no particular order:

BATHENA ANGST. It's been so long since we've gotten some proper agony from these two. I don't count 6x03 because, even though the situation was stressful, they were still very much a united front, and while I don't see that being any different with the cruise ship, I fully believe there's going to be a moment where they think they're going to die. And near-death experiences are always so revealing and juicy. Just the way couples (or almost-couples) look at each other and how much goes said and unspoken?? DELICIOUS. I'm getting chills just thinking about it.

RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI RAVI

I miss Karen so bad. I'm looking forward to seeing her face again

EVERYTHING THAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN WITH CHIMNEY. He's getting married! He's rescuing his captain! He's in a hospital gown! The Lees are back! Is his dad back? Is there going to be a moment where Mr. Lee and his dad meet? How is that going to go? Where's Albert? Can't wait to see!!!

Athena? in therapy? I know I already said it but it bears repeating. ATHENA! IN! THERAPY! AHHH!!!

Also, on that note, Frank <333 I've missed him

Chris dating!!!! When did he get old enough to start thinking of girls as potential love interests instead of being icky !!???!! I feel old. @/Gavin stop growing up

CAPTAIN HEN

BUCK 👏🏾 AND 👏🏾 EDDIE 👏🏾 IN 👏🏾 EVERY 👏🏾 EPISODE 👏🏾 Notwithstanding the romantic shipping of it all, their relationship is so beautiful and so special to me, and I really love their dynamic and the way they interact with each other so seeing them do what they do best in EVERY episode? Euphoric.

MADDIE FUCKING BUCKLEY. I hope my girl JLH gets a new wardrobe and gets the angst she wants this season because Maddie was not giving me everything I needed her to give last season and I miss her BAD.

On THAT note? Maddie/Chimney pre-marital counseling??? YEAH, I DIDN'T FORGET ABOUT THAT ONE, ASSHOLES. GIVE ME THOSE TWO WORKING OUT THEIR THOUGHTS/FEELINGS OR WE RIDE AT DAWN.

I honestly just can't wait to see Bobby, I need to be virtually hugged by my dad it's been too long

Eddie is bi to me so seeing him with a woman is the exact opposite of a problem. Eat that pussy, baby!

On THAT note. Buck possibly having a male love interest? I've talked about it with several people at this point, but the possibility is so fun and SO good on so many levels. I'm excited to see where that goes (if it goes anywhere)

I genuinely could keep going. I haven't even gotten halfway through my list of things I'm excited for but you get it !!! I love this season already.

#jack answers mail

[the-good-the-bad-the-old]

w̳r̳i̳t̳e̳r̳:̳ ̳t̳h̳e̳-̳g̳o̳o̳d̳-̳t̳h̳e̳-̳b̳a̳d̳-̳t̳h̳e̳-̳o̳l̳d̳

"If you love me, stop playing games, I pray"

Cas. Buddy.

It's. It's... It's me.

Can... Can.. Can.. Oh. Can you hear me, man?

I pray.

If you love me, stop playing games, I pray. Here I sit, on this cold, unforgiving concrete floor, shivering not just from the chill that seeps through my bones, but from the ache, the pain that gnaws at my chest. Cas. Castiel, my guardian angel, my confidant, I need you to hear this, man, to truly understand, right now, the words that linger on the tip of my spineless tongue.

If you love me, stop playing games, I pray. For all the battles we've fought together, the sacrifices you've made have weighed heavily upon my heavy dirty soul. I thank you, Cas, for laying down your life time and time again, but for what purpose? Was it all to make me feel this unbearable agony, this torturous regret for not speaking the one truth that consumes me? Why did you leave me like this, man? Why did you leave me like this? Cas?

If you love me, stop playing games, I pray. I thank you for standing beside me in the face of this sons of the bitches, for being the one constant presence in this chaotic existence of ours. Your unwavering loyalty has been a light in the darkness, a shelter in the storm. But now.... I find myself torn between the fear of losing you, again and the fear of never, NEVER revealing the depths of my heart. I just... Never been allowed to do that in my life.

If you love me, stop playing games, I pray. Cas. We've danced this delicate dance, circling each other with unspoken words and lingering glances. But this game of wills has taken its toll, piece by fragmented piece, until my heart is left bleeding, raw. The words I hold within me, they yearn to be set free, to merge with the air that surrounds us.

If you love me, stop playing games, I pray. This prayer, this confession of mine, it may be the last plea that escapes me, my last chance to break free from the chains that bind. I will pray to you. Every day, just you will hear me. I.. I experience differently than I have before. I cannot bear the weight of unspoken truths any longer, the burden of silence that strangles my voice. Cas?

Cas. I love you. Of course I love you, too! I've always loved you! Always! Don't you dare doubt that for a fraction of a second. I feel something bigger, something bigger than the Earth, the moon, this damn galaxy where there's no room for us.

If you love me, stop playing games, I pray. For this feeling that burns within me, it is not confined by expectations or societal norms. It is a force that surpasses logic, that dares to challenge the very fabric of our existence. I wasn't the best option, but you chose me. I want to hold you, so bad, man, I want to know what love is.

If you love me, stop playing games, I pray. Hear my plea, Cas. Let our truths intertwine and pave the way for a future filled with the infinite possibilities of love. For if this chance slips through our fingers, I fear I may never find the courage to speak these words again. So, I pray, I beg. Please. Please. Please, man. let our love no longer be a secret kept in the shadows.

Castiel, god, can you hear me?

if you love me, stop playing games, I pray. I yearn for the day when we can stand united, together again.

We need you. I need you.

#rambleoncas #my #mine #ff #fanfiction #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #deancas #supernatural #destiel fanfic #fanfic #5th of november is soon #5th of november #dean x castiel #dean x cas #castiel x dean #i love you #destiel meme #spn #texting #my text

[sigalrm]

Berlin Buddy Bear by Pascal Volk Via Flickr: Der hat echt einen bescheidenen Standplatz.

#Europe #Germany #Berlin #Berlin Mitte #Tiergarten #Potsdamer Platz #Potsdam Square #Plaza de Potsdam #Kollhoff-Tower #Panorama Pont #Panoramapunkt #Buddy Bär #United Buddy Bears #bear sculpture #Bärenskulptur #Sommer #Summer #Verano #Canon EOS R7 #Pentacon 2.8/135 #135mm #M42 #Altglas #Vintage Lens #DxO PhotoLab #flickr

[glassesfreekjr]

Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story — save for whether or not it is true:

There was once a salmonid cellist who was the eldest of three siblings. The youngest was seperated from their school during a Salmon Run and never returned. The middle child vanished soon after in desperate search. Thus the cellist was free of them both. This is not his story.

The middle child wandered forever, hunting fruitlessly for a younger sibling with a destiny neither could comprehend. For the middle child had seen the streams of marine energy flowing in the corner of his eye whenever the youngest had sang. A prophecy on the cusp of fruition. I must rescue you from this, the middle child swore. It wasn't right.

And yet it was, for everything happens for a reason, and the reason swept the little sibling up in its arms and spirited away. A bear with a rocket ship; a melody; three lights uniting to consume disaster. While in the desert the middle child wandered unaware of this, and hope boiled in the cooking pot until all that remained was the blackened bile stuck at the bottom.

The world turned, and the dawn was breaking the bones of the middle child's heart like twigs. They never healed right. The middle child refused to let them heal right. For they would find each other. Love twisted into toxic obsession. That which was torn away tore equally back.

(Incidentally, the middle child would soon trade with Octarians for a set of legs — cheap prosthesis. Weapons, too. That a salmonid could now walk was a sterling achievement witnessed by no one.)

Chasing disfigured dreams, the spite-fueled husk of the middle child would eventually cross paths with an Octoling. It matters not how. Neither were the people they were before, but the stranger hadn't deluded themself into thinking otherwise. Meanwhile, the other sang with the fury and delirium of their own momentum.

The outcome, however, goes without saying. Agent 8's narrative would continue unabated. In the end there was little option but to put down a rabid dog.

And so it goes that the husk of the middle child bargans with the dying dream of a reunion: “You can sleep now, you said. You can sleep now. You said that. I had a dream where you said that. Thanks for saying that. You weren't supposed to. Let me lay your head on my own and we will be like mariners once more, swimming in the snugness of it, dashed to pieces.”

And words, little words, words too small for any hope or promise, not really soothing, answer back: "But I've seen your true face: the back of your head. If you were walking away, keep walking.”

"But have I not been walking toward you all this time?" asks the husk to the little sibling, confused. There is a response to this, but neither husk nor dream live to hear it.

(Every morning, Li'l Buddy wakes up and carefully preens its hair the way it was taught to.)

#splatoon #splatoon ost #fan music #fan ost #salmonid #li'l buddy #fan character #agent 8 #omega-3 #ω-3 #side order #splatoon 3 side order #splatoon dlc #music #original composition #backstory #salmonling #octarian #richard siken

[cleverwordsandotherstuffilike]

Survival Mistakes That Can Get You Killed

Going Alone

There are numerous reasons that people go into the wilderness alone, but are these reasons worth your life? Each time you head out into the back-country alone, you expose yourself to additional risk. Without a buddy, there’s no one to go for help if you become immobilized. Without a partner, predators will take more interest in you. Without a friend, you may not get a tourniquet on fast enough. Before you head out alone, take a moment to reconsider.

Getting Lost

The #1 reason for a search and rescue (SAR) incident on land is that someone has gotten lost, but staying “found” isn’t always as easy as you might think. Tim MacWelch

Even with the latest and greatest technology available, our national parks were the backdrop to more than 65,000 search and rescue (SAR) incidents between 1992 and 2007. Approximately 40 percent of these cases involved lost individuals or groups. That’s a lot of lost people, and there are a lot of different ways these folks got lost.

The best way to prevent getting lost is to get more familiar with land navigation. It’s not enough to bring a map and compass with you into the wild. You’ll need to know how to shoot an azimuth and back azimuth, account for declination, and determine distances (among many other skills). You’ll also need to know that steel or iron objects can pull your compass needle away from magnetic north, so keep your rifle barrel away from your compass as you take bearings.

(Not-so) Edible Plants and Mushrooms

The wilderness is full of delicious and wholesome wild foods, as well as a good number of dangerous things that happen to look like food. Tim MacWelch

According to the NCBI, roughly 39 people per year are seriously harmed by ingesting the wrong mushrooms here in the United States (with an average of three fatalities per year). Plant poisonings are much harder numbers to average (yes, plants are different from mushrooms). With plant poisoning numbers being bolstered by little toddlers wolfing down mistletoe at Christmastime and teens trying to get high from random toxic wild plants, it’s very hard to estimate the true number of poisonings from outdoors people eating the wrong plant by mistake. The Centers for Poison Control lump everything together.

Failure To Light

The times when we need a fire the most are the times when fire can be the hardest to produce. Cold, windy, rainy conditions are prime time for hypothermia (the dangerous lowering of your body’s core temperature), and these are the toughest conditions for building a fire.

Even if you don’t expect to encounter wet weather, it’s never a bad idea to carry multiple fire starting implements and fuel that will burn even in wet and windy conditions. Products like UST’s WetFire cubes have been my favourite for years, though Vaseline soaked cotton balls are a close second place. Either of these fuels will light from sparks or flame (though flame is your better choice, hence all the Bic lighters I carry).

Cutting Corners

Your work ethic plays a serious role in your success as a survivor. If you do a crappy job building your shelter, you’ll pay for it when the hard rains come. If you don’t get enough firewood for the whole night, someone’s going to be stumbling around in the dark looking for sticks. Work hard on the task at hand, do a good job, go above and beyond, and stay with your task until the job is done. This means building a bomb-proof survival shelter—the first time around. It means dragging in a giant firewood pile. Always try to do your best, plus a little extra for insurance.

Mistaking Stubbornness for Tenacity

There’s a lot of wisdom in the old adage “If at first you don’t success, try, try, again.” There’s also a problem with this line of thinking. It’s critical for a survivor to understand the difference between things that are worth continuing and the things that need to be abandoned. It’s tempting to think of stubbornness as a good thing, like being too stubborn to die, but stubbornness is essentially this: beating your head into a brick wall, convinced that you will eventually break the wall down. Stubbornness is a condition that can be self-destructive and ultimately defeating. So what’s the better way through the brick wall? Do you keep trying something that isn’t working? Or do you take a big step back, do some problem solving and find another way through the wall (over, under, or around it)? Don’t let pride or ego fuel your stubbornness. Don’t keep throwing your dwindling matches at a crappy wet fire lay, just because you think it should light. If something isn’t working, find another way. That stubborn mindset can get you killed, or kill someone you love.

Not Passing the Dress Code

The clothing you choose will not only impact your comfort on the trail, but it can affect your very survival if things go south. Choose thick wool or synthetics for colder weather that may turn wet. Wear loose, lightweight, quick drying clothing when conditions are hot. Think about a few bright colored garments, for visibility and signaling for help. Functionality should always beat style when it comes to outdoor clothing.

Prevention: Dress in layers, bring extra clothes and pick the right fabrics for the situation.

Allowing Panic To Prevail

There are times when our own minds (and the fear they create) will be our own worst enemy. When stress and fear cause our bodies to release a cocktail of hormones and chemicals (preparing for a “fight or flight” situation), it’s not unusual for a person to feel the sensation of panic. If you’ve never really been at the mercy of panic before, it is an unthinking and unrestrained form of fear which can manifest in several ways. You may find (after you have calmed down) that you ran around frantically with no clear plan in mind. You may also “wake up” from being frozen in a catatonic state of fear. You may even have overwhelming emotional responses (like crying inconsolably or lashing out in rage). Any of these panic responses could be the wrong choice for your unique set of circumstances – causing you to be injured and making your problems a whole lot worse.

Prevention: When panic starts to build, find something (ANYTHING) that can shift your mental focus. Count your breaths, do a small productive task, or say a prayer. Do something to control your fear before it morphs into full-fledged panic.

Trusting The Weather Prediction

Once you’re out in the back-country, it’s up to you to make intelligent predictions about the upcoming weather. The official prediction may suggest a magical stretch of weather – not too hot or too cold, just right with low humidity and clear skies. However, experienced outdoors people know better. Mountains can make their own weather systems, and these can take an unexpected turn at the drop of a hat. Fog can ruin your visibility and hide trail markers. Rain and wind can soak your “sunny day” wardrobe and steer you toward hypothermia with alarming speed.

Keep your own watch on the weather, by scanning the horizon often and paying attention to wind and cloud patterns. This can give you early warning if there’s a change in the weather or an unexpected storm is approaching.

Ignoring Your Instincts

Ever had that feeling you just couldn’t shake? You thought you were being watched or you just weren’t comfortable. You knew something was wrong, but couldn’t explain what was wrong or how you knew it. We don’t use them very much in modern life, but human beings do have a few instincts inherited from the ancestors. Compared to animals with instincts for navigation or anticipating the weather, our assorted instincts aren’t that sharp. We still can, however, sense things out of the ordinary from time to time. It may simply be your subconscious picking up on clues that your conscious mind has ignored – or it may be true instinct, pure and simple. This much is certain, that little voice in your head is there for a reason.

Underestimating The Risks

There are risks involved in enjoying the great outdoors. Every year, a handful of people run into real trouble in the wilderness – often because they didn’t understand the risks they were truly facing. Before you head into the back-country, do your research to discover all the hazards you may encounter. Are there bears? If so, what species? How unpredictable is the weather? Are there rock slides or venomous animals? Choosing to do your homework doesn’t seem like a life or death decision, but it certainly can be.

[anonymousewrites]

Clan of Three (Book 2) Chapter Fourteen

Father Figure! Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Teen! Reader

Chapter Fourteen: The Darksaber

Summary: Mando is on the warpath to protect his adike, and he and (Y/N) face Gideon.

            As Koska, Fennec, Cara, and Bo-Katan took down stormtrooper after stormtrooper to pull the attention of the imperial cruiser, Mando crept through the empty halls. Each lone trooper he came upon was instantly shot down. He had no time for long fights. He had to get to his kids.

            He was interrupted when he came upon the Dark Trooper unit. The droids were powering up, stomping towards the exit of their holding bay. Mando ran to the controls and shot them through the opening door in an attempt to keep them away. Unfortunately, one managed to grab the doors and force them open long enough for it to punch Mando and escape. The others remained inside, but they were already punching the doors to slowly wear them down and escape.

            Mando scrambled back and shot the Dark Trooper, but it was unimpeded in its approach. It grabbed his wrist and twisted it harshly, forcing a shout from Mando as he lost his grip on the blaster. Its other arm snapped out and grabbed his throat. Mando clutched at it, but he could do nothing as the Dark Trooper raised its now free hand and punched him. Even through the helmet, it was painfully disorienting.

            Behind the Dark Trooper, the rest of the unit had nearly broken through the viewing windows of the holding bay. Mando reached out and activated his flamethrower, hoping to fry the droid’s wires. However, even as flames flew up through the mechanical skeleton, the Dark Trooper was unharmed, and as Mando was forced to deactivate his weapon, he was thrown to the ground roughly.

            Mando scrambled for the holding bay controls again, trying to grab the lever to open the door to space. If he could throw the Dark Troopers out of the ship, he would only have to the deal with the one already attacking. And attacking it was as it grabbed his foot and threw him across the floor once more. Mando pushed himself to his knees, but the Dark Trooper kicked him in the chest, and he flew back.

            The Dark Trooper raised its arm and fired its blaster at Mando. Luckily, the beskar held up, and Mando just groaned as he lifted his arm and fired his Whistling Birds. They attacked the Dark Trooper on every side, and although the droid jerked from the hits, it didn’t stop attacking. However, Mando had time to stand up, twirl his beskar staff around from his back, and stab it through the Dark Trooper’s neck. The droid buzzed, and Mando ripped the spear to the side, severing the head from the body. The trooper collapsed to the ground with a resounding thud.

            Mando didn’t rest on his laurels and ran to the controls for the holding bay. Pulling the lever quickly, the door to space behind the rest of the Dark Trooper unit opened. They were thrown into space.

            Mando took a deep breath to regain his bearings before turning and running back through the halls. He had to get to the detention level quickly. His kids were waiting for him.

            Mando frantically pushed each button to open the cell doors. Each empty room made his heart heavier. Where were his kids? When he finally opened a door and found Grogu in tiny shackles sitting on a stone slab, Mando felt his heart leap in relief.

            “Hey, kid,” said Mando, carefully opening the little cuffs. “How are you?” Grogu cooed happily and reached up to Mando, who picked him up and cradled him close. “I know. I missed you, too, buddy.” He gazed down at Grogu. “Do you know where (Y/N) is?”

            Grogu babbled and pointed to the side. Mando understood. The next cell held (Y/N).

            He nodded. “Alright, buddy, stay close, okay?”

            Carefully, he held Grogu close as he left the cell and went to the next door. He pressed the button, and the doors slid open. Mando’s heart dropped.

            Gideon stood next to (Y/N), holding a blade of pure darkness, the Darksaber, to their throat. (Y/N)’s eyes were alive with fierce anger, but with their hands shackled, they couldn’t attack. That didn’t stop their rage from radiating through the room, their Ushti markings creasing with their narrowed eyes into sharp daggers.

            “Drop the blaster. Put down the Child,” said Gideon coldly. “Slowly.”

            Mando knelt, placing his blaster down with one hand and lowering Grogu with the other. Grogu, sensing Mando needed to handle the issue, took a step to the corner of the room in case a fight broke out and he needed to hide (listen, Grogu wasn’t totally smart, but he had seen Mando and (Y/N) do this enough to figure it out).

            “Now, kick the blaster over to me,” ordered Gideon.

            Mando kicked the blaster. He glanced at (Y/N) and the blade a hair’s length from their throat. “Give me the kid.”

            “The Ushti is just fine where they are. And the Child was just fine where he was,” said Gideon. He moved the blade up and down (Y/N)’s neck as a clear warning for Mando to not make any moves. “Mesmerizing, isn’t it? Used to belong to Bo-Katan. Yes, I know you’ve been traveling with Bo-Katan. A friendly piece of advice, assume I know everything. Like the fact that your wrist launcher has fired its one and only salvo.”

            “Where is this going?” questioned Mando.

            “This is where it’s going,” said Gideon. “I’m guessing that Bo-Katan and her boarding party have arrived at the bridge, seeking me or, more accurately, this.” He gestured to the Darksaber.

            Bo-Katan came to help? (Y/N) was surprised but honored. They would be damned before they allowed Gideon to put everyone’s hard work to help them and Grogu to waste. And as (Y/N) glanced between Gideon and Mando, they made a silent promise. They’d die before Gideon managed to hurt Mando.

            “But I’m not there,” continued Gideon. “And I imagine that they’ve killed everyone on the bridge, being the murderous savages that they are. And now, they’re beginning to panic.”

            Kriffing hell, will he hurry the monologue up? If I had my dagger, I’d stab him just to get him to stop talking, thought (Y/N).

            “You see, she wants this,” said Gideon, waving the Darksaber slightly. “Do you know why? Because it brings power. Whoever wields this sword…has the right to lay claim to the Mandalorian throne.”

            That’s a stupid rule, thought (Y/N). I thought Mandalorians were smart enough to not just let a single person hold a weapon and be able to say they’re in charge.

            “You keep it,” said Mando. “I just want the kids.”

            Gideon glanced between Mando, Grogu, and (Y/N). “Very well.” He deactivated the Darksaber. “I’ve already got what I want from them. Their blood.”

            (Y/N) winced as they remembered the needle in their skin, forcing their blood out of their body for whatever Gideon’s sick experiments would be.

            “All I wanted was to study their blood,” said Gideon. “These children are extremely gifted and have been blessed with rare properties that have the potential bring order back to the galaxy.”

            Yeah, no way am I going to be a puppet for the Empire, thought (Y/N), their hands curled into fists.

            Gideon smirked. “I see your bond with them. Take them.” Mando moved towards (Y/N), and Gideon spoke again, causing Mando to freeze. “But you will leave my ship immediately, and we will go our separate ways.”

            Mando was silent as he considered how much he was willing to sacrifice to get (Y/N) and Grogu back safely. He took a step towards (Y/N).

            “Don’t trust him!” (Y/N) spoke for the first time, their voice filled with conviction. “Don’t take his deal! He’ll go back on it, he’ll hunt you, and if you leave him here, he’ll be able to hurt more people!”

            Gideon smirked. “Too clever for your own good.”

            The Darksaber activated, and he swung at Mando. Sparks flew from the beskar as Mando took the hit, stumbling backwards. Gideon advanced, and the pair backed into the hall. (Y/N) cursed since they were still cuffed, but they jumped up anyways.

            “Stay here, Grogu. We’ll handle this,” said (Y/N), and Grogu cooed in encouragement.

            (Y/N) ran into the hall and saw Gideon forcing Mando to twist and dodge around his powerful swings. The Darksaber arched through the air, the pale glow hypnotic as its center pulled shadows out of thin air. As Mando stumbled back, (Y/N) moved into action. Grabbing the beskar staff from Mando’s back, they blocked Gideon’s next blow. (Y/N) twisted, allowing the Darksaber close enough to feel the burn of pure energy on their wrists. Taking a risk, (Y/N) spun.

            The Darksaber cut through their cuffs in a singular slice, and (Y/N) twisted again to block Gideon’s attack more forcefully. Now freed from the shackles, (Y/N) was ready for a proper fight. Gideon pulled the saber back and swung down again. (Y/N) gritted their teeth, forced backwards by the blow. Mando was quick to intervene, grabbing the staff from behind them. Stronger, he more accurately defended Gideon’s attack, allowing (Y/N) to duck away and steal a knife from Mando’s belt. It wasn’t their Ushti dagger, but it was enough for a fight.

            As Mando took steps back as Gideon glared at him and slice through the walls as he advanced, (Y/N) slid across the floor beneath the men’s arms. They sliced through Gideon’s leg, and Gideon growled as his blood spilt across the floor. He stumbled, and Mando pushed him back. Gideon raised his weapon, still parrying any of Mando’s blows from the front. Unfortunately for him, (Y/N) was now behind, still carrying a dagger.

            As Mando twisted the staff to force Gideon back, (Y/N) ran forward again. With two quick flicks of their wrist, they sliced across Gideon’s arm. He growled in anger and turned to force the Darksaber towards them, but (Y/N) anticipated his move. They flipped the dagger over in their hand and stabbed up. Gideon muffled a shout as the blade stabbed his arm, and his grip on the Darksaber faltered. It clattered to the ground.

            Mando surged forward and forced Gideon to the ground. He held the beskar spear’s tip to his neck, and (Y/N) was poised behind Gideon, prepared to stab him at a moment’s notice. Indeed, nothing would make them happier than killing Gideon, but upon seeing Mando leave him alive, they didn’t act. (Y/N) trusted his judgement. They glared down at Gideon as he stared up between (Y/N) and Mando with humiliated anger.

            “You’re sparing me?” he challenged, forcing a smug expression. “Well, this should be interesting."

            “Watch it. I’m not sure Bo-Katan will feel the same way,” spat (Y/N).

            Mando didn’t move his spear from its place at Gideon’s neck. “(Y/N), grab the Darksaber. I’ll watch him.”

            (Y/N) nodded and walked over. When they passed Mando, they slide the knife they had taken from him back into his belt. They missed the feeling of their Ushti dagger in their holster, but they had seen the destroyed remnants of the Razorcrest when the Dark Troopers had taken them. It was gone. (Y/N) took a deep breath as they approached the Darksaber to give it to Mando. They would handle it. There was no time to mourn it.

            (Y/N) picked up the Darksaber. They expected it to weigh something in their palm, but they were surprised by how light it felt. For a moment, (Y/N) allowed themself to hold it. It felt surprisingly right in their hands.

            Again, a soft whisper echoed through them. It was comforting and compelling, and they felt entranced by it. (Y/N) couldn’t make our precise words, but they sensed the calling as they held the Darksaber. It wanted them to activate it.

            (Y/N) ignored it and handed it over to Mando. They had no time for the Darksaber. They wanted this issue with Gideon to be over with. They had more pressing issues to deal with. They needed to apologize to Mando for their fight. After all, (Y/N) would have to leave him. And whatever the Darksaber was mattered far less than Mando.

Taglist:

@im-making-an-effort

@gr33n-d00dles

@alexpangender

@painstakingly-juno

@treehouse-mouse

@theurbannoodle

@pedropascalsidechick

@dmitrytherat

@dilfsaremyfavourite

#clan of three #x reader #x gn reader #gn reader #x nb reader #nb reader #platonic #platonic x reader #x teen reader #x teen!reader #father figure #found family trope #found family #mandolorian x teen reader #mando x teen reader #mando x teen!reader #mandolorian x reader #mando x reader #mandolorian x teen!reader #the mandolorian #mandalorian x teen reader #mandalorian x teen!reader #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin x jedi!reader #din x reader #din djarin x teen!reader #din djarin #din djarin x teen reader

[apphiarothowrites]

Mech Pilot AU thoughts

I'm leaning between Pacific Rim and Titanfall with this idea-mostly because Titanfall is the nicer end of "the mechs are/can become sentient" without the horror elements that NGE introduces

Marco's mech is a compliment to his father's.

Whitebeard, legendary mech pilot from back in the day, piloted a massive and fucking heavy beast of a mech unit that was wholly designed to level a battlefield and everything on it. When Whitebeard went to war, his side had to call active retreats on all positions in the ground assault because when he showed up he was absolutely going to reduce even their allied positions to pancakes. Rare was the day that Whitebeard left enemy survivors. The weakest points on Whitebeard's early design mech was the joints but unless you destroyed the cockpit (the most well protected point inside the behemoth), she could still move even with near critical damage to the joints. His big girl was made to keep moving and the only way to stop her was to destroy the legs and even then unless you also destroyed the arms this bad motherfucker was going to destroy everything in range anyway.

Marco's in contrast, was built to fly. Fast, light, and equipped with jet wings. Still well armored, still equipped with some gnarly guns, the weakpoint of Marco's bird was in the wings. The attachment areas to the back were designed to be easy to remove-pop in and out. If Marco is grounded due to wing damage, he can pop those suckers off and still jump fairly high and have high mobility on the ground. His was designed to work behind, physically on, and in tandem with Whitebeard's giant-a buddy to focus on destroying incoming missiles intended to stop Whitebeard in his tracks. With Marco around, he never stopped moving. With the whole Whitebeard fleet behind him? They never lost a battle and only the more-feared Rogers fleet could draw them to a standstill.

The Mechs developing sentience was unintended but welcomed. Whitebeard's chose the name Moby, was a jovial and gentle giant off the battlefield much like her pilot. When Whitebeard retired, his body unable to bear the strain in his mid 60s, Moby was devastated. They both knew it was coming, they both acknowledged it was needed in order Whitebeard to not just suffer a fatal heart attack or brain aneurysm inside the cockpit from the strain, and both hated it. Moby refused every attempt at a replacement pilot. Phoenix, in contrast to both Moby and Marco, is catty and moody and and elitist to the point that they rarely speak to anyone who isn't a "ranking officer" on par with Marco, Whitebeard, or Moby. They much prefer being left to themself, and on the battlefield typically treats other mechs and their partners as part of the scenery-to be climbed on if large enough or otherwise ignored unless they need assistance. Phoenix also is not immune to flattery, but is often suspicious of it unless Marco gives it his blessing.

Marco's chose the name Phoenix, he liked the imagery and the meaning. When Pops retired, both were nervous of the idea of stepping up into the lead. Sure, Jozu and Atmos and Blamenco all had physically larger-than-average mechs but they were still smaller than Moby and none could hit as hard. Pheonix was a heavy-hitting support, without the buddy he was designed to help. Both floundered a bit in the first year of their new leadership role, but upon finding their ground-with Pops leading logistics over their communications lines-they were somehow even more formidable than before (perhaps, some whispered, so they could make up for the lack of their greatest weapon no longer being in play).

Then came Ace, and Fire Fist. So named for experimental technology; flame throwers and a super-heated retractable sword that often just set the mech as a whole on fire. Ace, safe inside an airtight cockpit that's externally doused with all kinds of flame retardant, would cackle and Fire Fist would echo a laugh of their own. Small, fast, and lightly armored the mech would often take damage during fights-and just as easily shrug them off to roast enemy pilots alive inside their partners. Not every pilot even considers fire damage, let alone takes the measures that Ace and Fire Fist have to ensure their own safety with their equipment.

The audacity of these punks is beautiful, and Marco's smitten within a week. Phoenix takes a little time, but one compliment about their rockets setting a building ablaze is all it takes for them both.

Other idle thoughts: -Moby had, to begin with, a very stark white and gray paintjob. It faded over time and got all kinds of chips and wear/tear. Whitebeard's jumpsuit was navy blue with white highlights. -After retirement, Moby mostly hangs out at base and plays defense on the very few occasions someone attacks the WB directly. -Moby, appropriately, stands at 76 meters/250ft (PR jaeger height) -Phoenix is painted sky blue and usually enters battle from a high altitude-they match their surroundings and is difficult to spot visually and on radar. They much prefer it that way. The gold highlights were Marco's idea, as is the yellow/gold jumpsuit he wears when piloting. -Phoenix is much smaller than Moby, just about 9 meters/29.5ft (8.5 times smaller than Moby). He used to enjoy climbing all over the big guy, but after Whitebeard's retirement he now climbs all over Jozu/Blamenco/Atmos' mech's instead (each of which stand about 70-72 meters or 229-236ft) -Fire Fist is 8 meters/juuust over 26ft. He demanded that he be painted red and orange to match the fire laden equipment they use (he's a stickler for thematic matching). He's happy, fiery like Ace, but is easier going and prone to wanting to de-escalate rather than feed into an argument. Ace's jumpsuit, to match FF, is orange with red highlights.

#AR writes #mech au

[thewolvesof1998]

Temptation Tuesday

Not tagged by anyone but I just need to talk about these ideas, they’re haunting me okay.

I'm currently working on an MMA Rivals AU and Rodeo/Bull Riding AU but I can't get these ideas out of my head:

Chef Buck AU: The bear/No reservations inspired: like can you imagine Buck in his chef whites saying "Yes Chef" to Eddie while looking up at him through his eyelashes, smirk pulling at his lips because I can and it haunts me.

Ted Lasso AU: Football, Bobby is Ted Lasso, Buck is Jamie Tart, Eddie is Roy Kent

Eddie was in the K9 Unit in the army- When he's back state side he needs help with his dog, enter Dog trainer Evan Buckley

Body Guard Eddie - need I say more -yes- Eddie's back from his second tour, needs a job when an old buddy reaches out to him, he need someone to guard Evan Buckley (Actor? Son of a rich man? Politician?) A mix between The Bodyguard/Bodyguard

AU where Buck and Eddie meet in the army and start sleeping together - angst, whumpage, Eddie deals with his gay crisis

Sign language Buck and Eddie -thats it

Jake/Holt = Buck/Bobby = Son/Father: 5 times Buck calls Bobby ‘Dad’, +1 time Bobby calls Buck son: “It’s funny, on my first day here, I asked Jeffords to tell me about everyone, told me you were a great detective, but the one thing you couldn’t figure out was how to grow up…Well, I think you’ve finally figured it out.”

On that note: Cops AU/Brooklyn 99 AU inspired by this:

A street racing/Fast n' Furious AU inspired by this picture: (there's already the 'Ride & Die' Series by spaceprincessem but I need moreeeeee) Specifically under cover FBI agent Eddie Diaz and Street racer Evan Buckley and its before they find out. Its mostly inspired by this picture: (Like imagine Buck's in the passenger seat)

And lastly a Mafia AU: I mean just look at these images, I have no thoughts just vibes but like god damn, are they the two mafia husbands or are they rivals/star cross lovers I don't know but i love them:

This is not including the half-dozen song-inspired fics I have- mostly it's Noah Kahan but 'Let's Ruin the Friendship' is such a Buddie song.

#buddie #9-1-1 #eddie diaz #evan buckley #ao3 #9 1 1 fic #temptation #temptation tuesday #fic ideas #thewolvesof1998 writes #Buddie wip

[hiccupmistress]

Trying to Make Peace With Strange New Worlds’ Controversial New Episode

Warning: This post will contain major spoilers for Star Trek: Strange New Worlds, season 2 episode 8, “Under the Cloak of War”, and will refer to the episode with the assumption that readers have already watched it.

 This week’s episode of SNW has already proved very divisive. Some people are calling it the best episode yet, others are calling it the worst. It tackles a difficult subject and doesn’t pull its punches. I’ve seen people crying “character assassination”, and others suggesting that its “character development”. And in all honesty, both parties are right. We’re used to seeing main characters in Trek be virtuous paragons, especially medical practitioner characters, and we’ve had fifty-five years to build up our own headcanons and ideals about Dr. M’Benga. But at the same time, in terms of actual canon content, M’Benga got nothing substantial in his Original Series episode and only one aspect of his character was focused on in season 1 of Strange New Worlds; you can’t contradict a character that hasn’t been developed yet. And I’m saying this as someone who was on the “character assassination” side when I first watched the episode!

It reminds me of M*A*S*H, and bear with me, because its probably not for the reasons you’re thinking, although this episode of SNW has a lot of scenes set in a popup medical camp in a warzone, that’s not it; there’s a specific episode of M*A*S*H its reminding me of. For the uninitiated, M*A*S*H was a show that ran from 1972-1983, following up from a movie in 1970. Set in a Mobile Army Surgical Hospital during the Korean War, M*A*S*H started out as a sitcom. As the years passed though, it became a lot more sombre, dealing with heavier subjects, even though it never fully lost its comedic origins.

In season 7, there’s an episode (“Preventative Medicine”), where the hospital is flooded with tons of new patients, apparently a Colonel by the name of Lacy has been getting reckless and wilfully endangering his troops. Lacy even drops by the 4077 MASH unit to give his men purple hearts and hollow platitudes, neither of which his men want from him. The worst part is that Lacy isn’t even done. Once his men are recovered, he plans on sending them on a mission with a projected casualty rate of 30%, equating to one-hundred soldiers. And all for a hill with no strategic importance other than bragging rights. Nobody in the 4077 likes Lacy, but our main character, Captain “Hawkeye” Pierce decides to take it into his own hands. With the help of his buddy Captain BeeJay Hunnicut, he spikes Lacy’s drink to trick him into thinking he needs his appendix out, with the intention of actually removing his appendix so that he’d be unable to send his troops on that suicidal hill mission; he’d pulled a similar trick back in a season 3 episode (“White Gold”) with Hunnicut’s predecessor, Captain “Trapper” McIntyre. This time though, Trapper’s long gone, and Hunnicut’s having none of it. He lambasts Pierce, telling him:

“That man is crazy, but that doesn’t make this right. Some things are wrong and they’re always wrong.”

But Pierce can only see the troops he’ll be saving and goes ahead with deliberate malpractice anyway. Afterwards, wounded keep coming in. There’s a war on, after all. Colonel Lacy being out of the picture doesn’t stop the rest of the war.

The bottom line there is that Hawkeye did a very bad thing, and the episode doesn’t have any last-minute resolution or remedy for that. The audience are just left to contemplate that maybe the funny, charismatic Pierce isn’t the hero he makes himself out to be. And that’s kind of what “Under the Cloak of War” is doing for Strange New Worlds. Doctor M’Benga does a very bad thing, and the episode smartly ends on that note, leaving the audience to contemplate. The difference is, back in the M*A*S*H days, the landscape of TV was different - Continuity was rare. Whilst SNW isn’t as serialised as the other modern Star Trek shows, there’s still though-lines and ongoing stories for the main characters. Even if there were no immediate consequences at the end of this episode, that’s not to say M’Benga will never face consequences.

Its not a perfect episode. There’s certainly a number of things I’d do differently. And yes, that ending was absolutely a shock, one that makes us perceive one of the main characters differently, but that’s the point. You don’t have to like it, you don’t have to agree with what M’Benga did – on the contrary, if you you’re disgusted at what M’Benga seemingly got away with, the episode did its job. That’s not to say you have to like or agree with Ambassador Rah either. Like with “Preventative Medicine”, “Under the Cloak of War” is (in my opinion,) very much about the risk that in our attempts to stop heinous people, we can allow ourselves to sink to their levels. Colonel Lacy and Ambassador Rah were both very nasty people in their own ways. But that doesn’t mean medical malpractice or murder are okay, and sometimes, on rare occasions, we need to see heroes become villains for a story to send its message.

I hated “Under the Cloak of War” when I first watched it on Thursday. I watched it again in preparation for writing this. I still don’t “like” the episode, but I can make peace with what I think it was trying to do, and I look forward to seeing how it shapes M’Benga’s character arc going forward.

#opinion post #star trek #star trek strange new worlds #star trek snw #doctor m'benga #spoilers #strange new worlds

[direwombat]

so many wednesdays, so little time

tagged by the beloveds @wrathfulrook, @inafieldofdaisies, @adelaidedrubman, @ivymarquis, and @gaeadene for wip wednesday specifically, and by @river-ward, and @cassietrn for general wip sharing (thank you all so much <3 <3 <3)

tagging: @strafethesesinners, @strangefable, @detectivelokis, @sstewyhosseini, @confidentandgood, @henbased, @voidika, @poetikat, @roofgeese, @vampireninjabunnies-blog, @aceghosts, @purplehairsecretlair, @deputyash, @harmonyowl, @madparadoxum, @euryalex, @clonesupport, @neverthesameneveranother, @trench-rot, @jacobsneed, @josephslittledeputy, @g0dspeeed, @socially-awkward-skeleton, and anyone else wanting to share their wips today! (but as always no pressure <3)

as of checking the poll i made, looks like syb's public speaking is in the lead (by the slimmest of margins), so have some of that :)

Sticking two fingers in her mouth, she whistles loudly to get the room’s attention. All eyes turn to her. “Alright, y’all, we’ve got company inbound,” she says. “At least three trucks — estimated nine to twelve hostiles — en route comin’ in from the south. Likely just as many’re gonna come in from the north. Got maybe another seven left still outside. Now, Grace is keepin’ ‘em busy ‘cross the street, but she ain’t gonna be able to hold ‘em off forever. We also got air support incoming. I ain’t gonna lie, shit’s bad. We’re outgunned and outnumbered.”

The gathered civilians mutter anxiously among themselves. Doubt suddenly casts dark shadows over their faces, causing Sybille’s stomach to knot, but Pastor Jerome gives her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 

She takes a deep breath. “But it ain’t hopeless,” she continues, and everyone falls silent. “Now, I want y’all to listen up and listen good ‘cause I’m only gonna say this once. Y’all willin’ to fight, we gonna leave out that back door, okay? After that, buddy up and do not let each other outta your sight. Just like huntin’ or hikin’, alright? Your buddy is. Your. Lifeline. Y’hear me?” 

The civilians nod. 

“Good,” she breathes. “Stick to cover and when that plane comes, get under a roof or awnin’. Key is makin’ yourself as small a target as possible. You get shot? Hide. Don’t get cocky. Don’t take unnecessary risks. Don’t be a hero. There any part of that y’all ain’t like, ain’t nobody gonna judge you for it, okay? Any of y’all wantin’ to stay behind, barricade the doors, head on down to the basement, and wait til someone comes to get you.” She swallows thickly and says, “Everything’ll be just fine. We all clear?”

In a chorus of voices that reminds her of her brief stint as a Staff Sergeant, all present — including Jerome — say, “Yes, ma’am.” 

There were many she served with many who hungered for such authority. So many who went career not out of patriotism but rather lust for power. But she always found issuing orders to be agonizingly unpleasant. She hated having that kind of trust, that kind of loyalty in her hands and the weight of her unit’s lives on her shoulders. 

Still hates it, as it turns out. 

Jesus Christ, she’s gonna get all these people killed and it’s gonna be all her damn fault.  

“Alright then,” she nods, trying to force the lump of dread down her throat and into her stomach where it belongs. “Move out.”

“Yes, ma’am!” they all cry in unison. They gather their weapons and begin to file out the back door of the church. She follows behind them, ensuring she’s the last one out to provide covering fire.

Jerome waits for her by the door, but before she crosses the threshold, he stops her. “These are fully grown men and women, Deputy,” he says quietly. “Their choices are their own.” 

Her eyes go wide and she blinks owlishly at him, her mouth slightly agape. Swallowing thickly, she presses her lips into a tight, firm line and nods. So were the people I was in charge of, she doesn’t say. It don’t make the guilt any less unbearable. 

But there are more pressing issues than arguing about who bears responsibility over whom. Debates of blame and morality are best left to the peacetime philosophers and judges. No, she has a job to do. She can’t allow herself to slip into the same guilt and ruminate on the same ghosts that plagued her in the quiet nights she spent in the hospital before being honorably discharged with a purple heart that she doesn’t deserve. 

No, this is war, and war necessitates action. Movement. 

If she stops, she’s as good as dead. 

Her jaw sets and expression hardens. She looks at Jerome and nods towards the single civilian yet to partner with a buddy. “Get movin’,” she grunts.

#wip wednesday #wip: kneeling at the crossroads #context: these are the civilians she sent to jerome's church after she freed them #she went to check on them when the plane is called in. wanted to get them somewhere safe #but when she walks inside she sees jerome helping arm them up :)