#sergente

[yyyyyyylg]

considering the fact that tbb S3 have new eps every Wednesday this needs to be done

[edida]

Il sergente

:: di Lyes :: Ero andata via dall’ufficio senza salutare. Non lo facevo mai, ma in quei giorni ero stanca di tutto e di tutti. Questo dover oltrepassare i controlli e una sbarra all’entrata e all’uscita dal lavoro, mi rendeva intollerante, antipatica e claustrofobica. Particolarmente. Perché già lo ero di mio… Ma non da quando c’era lui. Avevo cominciato a notarlo qualche settimana prima. Cambiavano sempre e da poco era arrivato questo marcantonio dagli occhi blu che guardava sempre fisso davanti a sé. Nemmeno trentenne, io con qualche anno in più, aveva gli occhi del mare d’inverno, carnagione scura e lineamenti marcati. Sembrava uscito da una vecchia pubblicità della Coca-Cola. Però non sembrava affatto essere il bulletto a cui si atteggiava. Forse perché mi ricordava, a tratti, un caro amico d’infanzia, con cui avevo passato l’adolescenza e a cui avevo regalato la mia verginità. Avendo perso il padre da bambino era sempre incazzato col mondo. Faceva il bulletto ma io un po' lo compativo. Così, non dando poi tutta quest’importanza all’evento, decisi che la nostra era comunque una forma d’amore e mi lasciai sedurre con affetto, anche se nessuno dei due era veramente innamorato. Crescevamo insieme e basta.   Il marcantonio mi controllava i documenti e non mi degnava di uno sguardo. Nemmeno per vedere se la foto corrispondeva. Mi faceva aprire l'auto, ma niente. Neanche al mio stringato, ma almeno civile, saluto era seguita mai alcuna occhiata, un sorriso, nulla. Forse era solo questo a renderlo interessante ai miei occhi. Quasi rallentavo per farmi fermare quando c’era lui. Ma ero una donna e non mi fermavano spesso. Non oggi però. Oggi controllavano tutti. Ogni tanto accadeva che ricevessero ordini dall’alto che bisognava ispezionare tutti. Ed eravamo in fila. Pazienti gli uomini. Le poche donne, meno. C’era sempre qualche scusa: figli da andare a prendere, correre a fare la spesa, cucinare, riunioni a cui partecipare. Insomma sembrava che gli uomini, in confronto a noi, non avessero mai niente da fare. – Gentilmente mi apre dietro? – Certo. Che voce stridula mi era uscita. Mentre sprofondavo dalla vergogna aprii il portabagagli e subito mi caddero a terra le mille cianfrusaglie stipate dentro la macchina che usavo ormai come una seconda casa. A entrambi venne automatico chinarci per prenderle e così, grazie a questo gesto quasi involontario, ci toccammo per la prima volta dandoci una severa testata l’un l’altro. Lui non si scalfì nemmeno, io invece persi l’equilibrio e mi ribaltai per terra. Mi affrettai a scusarmi. Non so perché. Forse perché la divisa mi incuteva un po' di timore. Ma avrebbe potuto farlo anche lui.  Lo chiamarono. – Sergente. Venga. Niente nome. Mi fecero spostare avanti per far passare gli altri. Lui tornò indietro e guidò la mia auto fino a superare il controllo e parcheggiò accanto a me che nel frattempo ero stata messa a sedere su una sedia con del ghiaccio sulla testa e sul ginocchio gocciolante sangue, tra le calze smagliate. L’accaduto ci aveva regalato quell’inaspettata intimità. – Come si chiama? Mi chiese porgendomi le chiavi della mia auto. Ma lo sapeva già il mio nome. – Matilde. E lei? Nessuna risposta. S’inginocchiò di fronte a me e controllò le mie ferite. Mi accarezzò piano la fronte e finalmente dopo settimane che mendicavo il suo sguardo, i suoi occhi fissarono i miei. – Perché non se ne va via? Perché non me ne andavo via? Già, pareva facile. Prendere e lasciare tutto. Senza un soldo. Senza un lavoro. Senza alcun amico lontano che ti potesse ospitare. Eh però se restavi e succedeva che morivi in uno dei mille atroci modi possibili, non era certo meglio. No. Decisamente non lo era. – … E dove dovrei andare? … Arriverà anche qui? – Sì. Era stato un vero e proprio avvertimento. Un dirmi qualcosa che forse non avrebbe potuto. Ma io lo stesso non sapevo dove mai sarei potuta andare. I giorni passarono e fummo immersi in questa coltre di ansia e incertezza. Suonavano le sirene. Correvamo negli scantinati. Ogni tanto arrivavano notizie da dove era la guerra. Quella vera. Quella dove qualcuno che conosci è scappato o muore o non ne sai più nulla. Eravamo un po’ tutti sgomenti. Sotto choc. Mai avremmo potuto immaginare che una guerra, oggi, avrebbe preso posto nelle nostre vite. La guerra apparteneva al passato. Ai libri di storia o a un film, al massimo. E invece, nonostante sembrasse tutto così incredibile e assurdo, eravamo lì, e io avevo paura di tutto. Anche per il mio gatto ammaccato che si aggirava sempre più circospetto per casa. Da qualche giorno venivo fermata più spesso. Non solo io. La situazione era peggiorata. Mancava spesso l’acqua e riuscivo a lavarmi solo a pezzi. Mi sentivo sempre sporca e in ansia. I rumori mi atterrivano. L’umore era nero. – Mi deve dare i suoi documenti. – Ma sono sempre quelli i miei documenti. Passo da qui tutti i santi giorni, quattro volte al giorno. Non è che scado. Nonostante tutto risi di me stessa e della mia acidità. Il sergente alzò un sopracciglio e per la seconda volta in questa assurda storia, mi guardò dritta negli occhi. – Non c’eri ieri. Il suo darmi del tu mi sbalordì. – No. Riuscii a biascicare. – Nemmeno giovedì. – No. Il cuore cominciò a battere velocemente e dopo tanto tempo ebbi quasi un attimo di pura euforica allegria. Non ero più abituata a sentirmi leggera ed ero come ubriaca. – Stai meglio? – Sì. Non rispondevo che a monosillabi ma volevo gridare. Mi trattenni. E poi arrivò la mazzata. Inaspettata. Brutalmente inaspettata. – Tra 15 giorni mi trasferiscono. Mi sentii mancare. Ecco che questa oasi di vuoto, di estraneità all’orrore, me l’avrebbero tolta. Questo miracoloso rituale, che mi permetteva di sopravvivere ogni giorno, sarebbe finito. – Dove? Domanda inutile e stupida. Mi fece cenno di andare. E io mi sentii salire lacrime amare e piene di rabbia. Arrivai a casa con gli occhi arrossati e pieni di un mare salato. Salii in fretta e, visto che scorreva un leggero rigagnolo d’acqua, m’infilai sotto la doccia, nella speranza che durasse quantomeno per lavare via questa insensata frustrazione. Il citofono suonò. – Posso salire? Riconobbi la voce e aprii senza dire una parola. Senza nemmeno indicare il piano. Se sa dove sto, sa pure a che piano. Bussò e io aprii la porta, con i capelli bagnati e l’accappatoio addosso. Arrivò anche il micio che lo fissò torvo e sbilenco. Con mia grande meraviglia lo guardò e lo salutò sorridendo. Sorriso che era la prima volta che vedevo. I denti bianchi, erano perfettamente allineati. – Ciao gatto. Dal mugolio che ne seguì, compresi che anche il mio gatto si era preso, immediata, una cotta per lui. Dal gatto passò a guardare me. Mi guardò intensamente e a lungo. Per tutte quelle volte in cui prima non l’aveva fatto. – Posso? Mi chiese in un sussurro e io feci solo cenno di sì. Mi aprì l’accappatoio piano, mi afferrò i fianchi e cominciò a baciarmi lungo il collo, dietro l’orecchio. Mi accarezzò ogni centimetro di pelle. Avevamo bisogno del calore l’uno dell’altra e non smettemmo un secondo di guardarci e baciarci e sorriderci.  Disperati. Mi svegliai con lui addosso. – Non so nemmeno il tuo nome. Si mise a ridere… – Ok. Ricominciamo da capo. Ci vediamo a pranzo. Ci incontriamo ufficialmente e ci presentiamo. – Ok. Sembrava un ragazzo adesso. E lo era. E se ne andò baciandomi sulla fronte. Aspettai l’ora convenuta con un’ombra nel cuore. Avevo paura che fosse stato solo un modo facile per andarsene. E invece eccolo lì, che ancora mi sorrideva arrivando da lontano. Con gli occhi fissi su di me.  All’improvviso non vidi né sentii più nulla. Balzai violentemente all’indietro dal mio tavolino contro il muro. I vetri si frantumarono e la polvere fu ovunque. Un tremendo boato mi rimbombava nella testa e per qualche minuto non seppi più dov’ero e cosa stavo facendo. Mi scossero. Brandelli di carne e tutto il rosso che avevo addosso pensarono fosse il mio. Ma non era il mio sangue. Avevo (in loop) nella testa, lui che mi guardava per la prima volta. Lui che mi accarezzava il viso, lui che mentre facevamo l’amore mi sussurrava quanto mi aveva desiderato. Lui che mi sorrideva da lontano. Lui che saltava in aria. Qualcuno venne a chiedermi se sapessi il suo nome. Io avevo ancora il suo odore addosso. Ma il suo nome no, non lo sapevo. E non lo avrei saputo mai. © Testo – Lyes N.B. L'immagine utilizzata per la copertina è stata presa dal Web, ma non siamo riusciti a risalire agli autori. Siamo a disposizione degli aventi diritto non potuti reperire nonché per eventuali non volute omissioni o per errore di attribuzione. Qualora l'immaginie utilizzata in questo testo violasse eventuali diritti d’autore, si prega di darne comunicazione e sarà immediatamente rimossa.:: editing a cura di edida.net :: Read the full article

[vnmof]

sergent and matheo

M: " Sergent... I thought you DIED! " ( from the first gnb art i made at the last image where matheo yelled out sergent's name and the next panel showed an explosion )

S: " Get off me! "

i kinda rushed this tho, the pose and anatomy looks weird and bandages

oh well im still posting it cuz idk what else to post 😁

[illustratus]

Battle scene around a road, with General Bonaparte seated on an embankment near his white horse in the foreground.

by Lucien-Pierre Sergent

[sergeant-tears]

Drunken, Sleepy, and Affectionate

Either way, Simon had his mask lifted just over the nose and he was enjoying his drink thoroughly in their booth. Gaz and Price had both gone back to the bar to order more drinks, a beer for Soap and, as a joke, Gaz wanted to get Ghost a fruity drink that would probably send his old man's heart into cardiac arrest. Soap looks over to see Simon smiling softly into his drink and humming a song, looking tired but pleased.

Ever so slowly a smile crept up Soaps face, “You good, Si?”

Ghost blinked slowly and looked over at him with the slightest tilt of his head and nodded, “Mhm.”

The nod must have been too much momentum for the man in his drunken state because he followed that movement foremast’s until his forehead was smooshed on Soap’s forearm. Soap could feel more than head that Ghost was muttering something that vaguely sounded like his name.

“Might be time for us to take you back home huh?” Soap said, letting go of his drink to pay Ghost on the top of the head. It was something only the other three members of the 141 were allowed to do, but Soap’s hand was the most tolerated.

Ghost shook his head softly, and then made a noise of discontentment and Soap laughed a little at his wiggling. When Ghost got really drunk he didn’t talk at all, once Ghost said that he doesn’t like talking much sometimes — used to use BSL a lot in his days of being a sergeant. He felt comfortable enough to not force words out, and by now Soap could distinguish the noises by heart.

“Stay a little longer then?” A nod.

Then Ghost leans in closer and wraps his arms around Soap’s and rests his cheek on the bone of Soap’s shoulder like it was the comfiest thing he could do. The slight fat of his cheeks squished against the bone and Soap smiled at the radiating warmth from Ghost. His face was flushed pink from the drinks, and Soap takes his free hand to tug down the mask.

It’s the opposite of what he wants to do but he was still waiting for the day Ghost takes off his mask just for the two of them. Hopefully it’ll come soon.

For now he knows Ghost would like to be covered in public, and Soap does what the Ghost wishes despite his own.

There’s a thankful little murmur that comes from Ghost, making Soap smile softly before the breathing of his L.T. evens out completely into a calm sleeping state.

When Price and Gaz come back they hand out the drinks and Price notices Ghost’s closed eyes and snake like hold on the sergeant and gives a little smile. Gaz is quick to take a picture.

“As long as you send me that I won’t snitch ta him.” Soap says, and Price nods the same.

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Identity Pt 8

Part (8) of Identity, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

At a whopping 27,000 words, this accidentally became the biggest arc in the series. Oops. Anyway, I've certainly been a bit possessed about getting it done, so here yuh go!

Warnings: Honestly, aside from the standard guilt and regret, this chapter is mostly fluff

WC: 2,913

He held me until my breath eased back into a quiet, rhythmic ebb and flow free of even the occasional hitched gasp. At some point, he’d shifted just enough to lean his shoulder against the wall, hand lightly clasped around the back of my neck as his fingers trailed absently atop the skin peaking out between my blacks and hairline. Part of me knew I shouldn’t stay like this; that hiding against him only delayed confronting the guilt I’d see in Wolffe’s eyes, the trepidation and doubt in Cody’s, but it was so easy to pretend otherwise, to keep my face nestled against his throat and let all thought of what responsibility awaited us beyond those walls fade as seconds turned into minutes.

A crippling realization struck me in that moment. I was hiding. I was hiding from the risk of another mission and another near disaster. I was hiding from the damage that had already been caused and the inevitable destruction still awaiting me. I was hiding from the certainty that even worse might be befall those around me at any moment; doubtless of just how effortlessly that might break whatever fleeting reserves of strength somehow managed to keep me going through all that had already happened, and I knew that that very fear of them getting hurt was likely the only thing keeping me from yielding that I might be there to help them in any way I could.

But it wasn’t just the fear of impending nightmares that kept me curled in the arms of a man I remembered hiding from so many months prior, back when we were strangers and I shied from the intensity that burned in his eyes when faced with even a simple question; the deep quiet he’d fall into while considering every aspect of a problem before coming to a decision, and the unease that would fill me at the mere thought of finding myself the subject of that frightening focus. So much had happened since then, and I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything but grateful for his presence in that moment, for the calm he granted me even as reality seemed to shift with a wretched understanding.

I was hiding from Wolffe; from the way his voice had threatened to break when last we spoke, from the tension that stole the effortless visage of command from him whenever we’d found ourselves alone. I was hiding from the squad that I could no longer think of as mine, from the longing in their eyes for a time that was now gone and would never again grant us the incredible breadth of comfort once gleaned from the sense of family we had found in each other, now felt only with a nostalgia tarnished by the horrors filling these past few days.

I wanted to weep anew at the thought of those coming farewell’s weighted beneath guilt and regret and the want for a denial we knew to be useless. In that moment, I longed to let myself be weak; to beg Hunter to tell Wolffe to leave that I wouldn’t have to face him at all, and I hated myself for that weakness.

The gentle dance of his touch stilled; fingers half buried in my hair as he subtly turned his gaze toward me; waiting. I drew a slow, resigned breath, held it in a final plea for even a few seconds’ more of a delay, and finally let it out in a controlled sigh as I pulled away from him.

“Thank you.” I whispered, eyes raising to just glimpse his. His thumb swept once more along the length of my neck before finally letting his hand fall briefly to my arm and then to the floor near his waist.

“Don’t need to thank me, Doc.” He replied softly, attention carefully locked on me. My lips drew up in an empty smile as I turned to glance thoughtlessly around the room. When I began to draw movement back into my limbs, weight shifting to balance atop a knee in preparation of forcing myself to my feet, Hunter quickly reached back out to me, arm looping around my shoulders as though anticipating the way my muscles would instantly waver at that first hint of strain. I was no stranger to the way grief and fear and panic left one so hopelessly drained yet always found myself unprepared for how ruthlessly that exhaustion struck. Unphased, I leaned into his support; let myself rely on his strength in the absence of my own as he carefully pulled me up alongside him.

“If we stay in here much longer, they might get the wrong idea.” I muttered, peaking towards him to see the way his brow cocked in surprise, but he let out a quiet chuckle at the weary smirk I managed to shoot him.

“The last thing I need is Crosshair hearing those kinds of rumors from regs…” He grumbled back, and I was shocked at how easily the huff of laughter escaped me. “Are you okay to walk?” He asked, voice dropping into a whisper as though that might prevent it from robbing us of that brief, precious moment of lightness. I nodded, forcing my back straight despite the reluctance weighing down my shoulders. “Alright.” He murmured and I tried to ignore the chill left in the wake of his touch as he slowly stepped away from me.

Whatever conversation had filled the silence beyond the office walls ceased with a harsh finality the instant that door began to open. I could feel Hunter standing just behind me, attention still following my every movement as though I might tumble without warning. Cody was the first to approach me, helm tucked under his arm and expression still somehow void of the disappointment I kept expecting to find.

“Commander, I-” He dismissed whatever attempt at an apology I was still trying to piece together with a simple wave of his hand and subtle shake of his head.

“Just get to the barracks and try to get some rest.” The innate authority in his voice was softened by a compassion that I still found myself shocked to hear from someone in his position and could only respond with a small nod.

“I can come back tomorrow – answer any other questions you have.” I offered, but he again dismissed it.

“Between what you’ve already told me and what I discussed with Commander Wolffe, there’s no need for that. Just take some time; try not to lose yourself in what happened.” He barely whispered those final words, willing them into me with a quiet understanding that I couldn’t begin to pretend I didn’t need. He ducked his head in a small bow before stepping past me into his office, and I hesitated just a moment longer before turning toward Wolffe.

“Guess I overestimated myself.” I mumbled, voice straining past the stiffness in my jaw, and I wasn’t sure how to respond to the subtle feeling of Hunter’s hand coming to rest against the armor sweeping across my lower back, nor my inability to deny the depth of comfort it gave me.

“No one’s holding that against you.” He replied softly before his gaze shifted to the man behind me. “Take care of her.” There was none of that disdain he’d once regarded Hunter with; no sneer of disapproval, and Hunter mirrored that unspoken respect with a silent nod.

“Wolffe.” I called hesitantly just as he’d begun to walk away, nearly cringing at the remorse in my own voice; the threat of shame. “I don’t… Will you tell the others I’ll be okay? I just… I can’t…” How could I explain the way it would cripple me to see their guilt again? To hear their apologies despite knowing they’d done nothing to warrant such sorrow?

“Don’t worry about them.” He explained, voice quiet but no less commanding for it. “Just be safe, kid.” There… just lingering beneath that infallible composure… Even Wolffe couldn’t keep the traces of an apology from his farewell. Gaze falling lest I note even a glimmer of regret in those stern eyes, I fought to offer some trace of a smile before turning away. The sense of finality in that farewell left my breath trembling slightly, and even the way Hunter shifted nearer to me did little to ease the sense of loss twisting through my chest.

-

“Cody’s already granting us clearance for the mission details.” He didn’t look at me when he said it, gaze once more hidden behind that dark visor as we walked unhurried through the corridors of the Negotiator. “You don’t have to, but if you want to talk about it…” My head fell slightly at the gentle invitation, and I knew he could hear how my heartbeat quickened at the mere thought. When I gave no answer, he didn’t press, but I couldn’t dispel the tension that lingered in the silence between us.

“I don’t think Wrecker’s ever going to let you go off on another mission without us.” He added a moment later, somehow managing to sow a wisp of humor into his voice, and a small scoff escaped me.

“Even if it’s the 104th calling you again?” There was something beneath the teasing lilt in his voice, but I was too weary to try to name it.

“Given my track record, I don’t think he’ll hear any arguments from me…” I grumbled.

“I didn’t know I’d be working with them this time until after I’d boarded the transport.” His helm shifted toward me, and I could easily picture the way his brows had surely risen above eyes widened with surprise. “But, no.” I added quietly, pace unchanged as I tried not to think too deeply on the painful words slipping over my tongue. “I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to work with them again.” Hunter stopped walking. I didn’t, intent on not falling back into the remorse that was all too eager to overwhelm me again.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured, treading back to my side. I gave a weak shrug, collecting my thoughts a moment before responding.

“Too much has changed… Besides, they have a jedi watching their backs. Without me, you lot only have dumb luck and sheer stubbornness.” A quiet chuckle just sounded through his comm system, and I found myself joining him in with a snicker of my own as his hand reached up to lightly jostle my helmet. It was heartbreaking – that conscious understanding that I no longer belonged with the 104th, but I had harbored no doubts that it was the right choice; that the 99 had become my family in a way the others never could.

-

“Doc!” Wrecker’s shout boomed through the nearly empty barracks, and I barely had time to draw in breath for a reply I never got to speak before his arms locked around my waist to hoist me up in an embrace far softer than his normal hugs. Still, laughter sputtered from my lips at the welcomed display of affection I would always treasure from the man, hand automatically darting out to his shoulder to steady myself despite the knowledge that he’d never let me fall.

“It’s almost like you missed me or something.” I teased, earning a brilliant smile from him that was so utterly free of shame or hesitation as he gently set me back down.

“Those regs need to find their own nat-born next time! It’s not fair for them to just come and steal yuh away whenever they want.” He complained, hands lingering on my hips for just a moment longer to ensure I was steady before stepping back.

Two rows of double bunks stretched out before me in a room designed to hold at least a company of one hundred though the entirety of it had been reserved for our tiny squad. Crosshair stood leaning against one of the upper bunks a few rows away with his arms wrapped tightly across his chest, attention locked on me from the corner of his eye while Echo and Tech sat together atop a lower cot a mere handful of strides from the door, the telltale mess of cables strewn between them warning of some half-started project.

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that.” I reassured him in a gentle sigh. “Pretty sure this was a one-time thing.” I could see the concern lingering in his gaze despite his efforts to hide it beneath his usual glee, the subtle threat of anger it fueled, and had to look away.

“Hey stranger.” I said softly. His chest bucked slightly around a sharp breath, mouth just beginning to open before closing tightly in a final bout of hesitation, but then he let out a small huff, forcing some of that tightness from his shoulders.

The instant I glimpsed him, the arc quick pushed himself to his feet, eyes torn between meeting my gaze and darting away as his jaw tensed around whatever attempt at a greeting caught in his throat. Had he been there when I first landed? Had I simply been too lost in my own thoughts to notice? My heart sank at the thought, just managing to offer the ghost of a smile in the face of how stiffly he held himself.

“Hey.” He whispered, and I heard clearly the apology in it, but it was nothing like those plaguing every word uttered amongst the 104th. There was a warmth in his apology; a subtle self-deprecation softened with something near enough to humor that my smile bloomed with relief.

“I see you two have been making the most of this little vacation.” I started, looking pointedly at the assortment of mysteriously procured supplies. He glanced quickly over his shoulder as though he’d forgotten the project entirely before turning back to me.

“Echo suggested a few interesting modifications to his cybernetic legs.” Tech stated before his brother could try to explain. “This is merely the initial prototype. Rebuilding his legs entirely will take significantly longer than a few days, but this will allow us to test the efficiency of our new design.” I looked back to the arc with surprise and found him fighting a sheepish grin.

My head fell toward my chest, stomach churning with regret for having offered at all despite Tech’s automatic “thank you.” Swallowing back the anxiety threatening to coil through my gut, I finally let myself glance toward the tall sniper still watching me from just the corner of his eye, and the little thrill of glee that seeing him shot through me offered a precious sliver of relief. He barely reacted as I approached him, head just shifting to follow my movements until barely a foot lay between us, and I let out a heavy sigh full of mock guilt and remorse.

“Wow.” I chirped, pleased to hear they’d managed to be so productive despite how strained things had been over the past few weeks, “Let me know if you need any help synching it to the neural interface.” Echo’s face darkened for barely the breadth of a heartbeat, but it was enough to remind me that the effortless connection that once came so easily to us still lay far beyond my grasp.

“I may have jinxed myself.” I muttered, and a quiet chuckle escaped me at the way he cocked his brow, unimpressed by my admission. “Was I right? Did you mope the entire time I was gone?”

“Yes.” Hunter called from the front of the barracks, kindling my chuckle into a short burst of laughter as Cross shot his brother a lethal glare.

“Just got back and you’re already trying to cause trouble.” He growled under his breath, earning a coy smirk from me. Only then did he begin to abandon that impartial veneer, weight shifting as he pushed himself away from the bunks to reach for me, and I could feel my entire body lighten with the deep sigh that fled my lips at that first rush of warmth from his embrace.

“Are you okay?” He asked, words barely audible as they danced through my hair. The rote reassurance so nearly fell from my lips absent a moment’s thought before catching in my throat. I could feel him tense in those brief seconds of hesitation before I reluctantly shook my head.

“Not yet.” I answered, voice heavy with every unspoken reason forbidding me from trying to convince him otherwise. “But I’m really glad to be back.” He went still for a long moment, but then his arms tightened almost harshly around me, body curling over mine as though he might hide me from what darkness lingered behind the veil of empty smiles.

We both knew there would be no walking away from the damage wrought during my time apart from them, but I let myself relish that moment of stillness; the hum of quiet conversation between Hunter and Wrecker, the rhythmic clicks and hisses of tools augmenting metal and wire beneath Echo and Tech’s ministrations, the steady thrum of Crosshair’s heartbeat dancing against me as I rested my forehead to his neck, shamelessly letting myself vanish in that heady spice and tang of blasterfire. Every day spent fighting this war brought untold risks and dangers, but I held no reservations that this was exactly where I belonged, and no threat was great enough to see me leave them for even a moment more.

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[yellowfellowmello]

Just watched the series finale of Star Wars the Bad Batch and I am sad :(

Spoilers ahead!

There are some plot holes that need to be filled in a little but I feel like a lot of Star Wars is interpretation instead of them just telling us. We never saw that one operatives face so Tech👀????

Omega joining the rebellion!!!!! I hope we see her in Ahsoka s2 or some other spin off because that would be awesome. Some grown up Hera and Omega content would be sick

Dilf Hunter. We won😌 Wrecker going beast mode even after being severely injured was awesome. Crosshair getting his full circle redemption. He doesn’t have a hand tremor anymore! Echo having a Fives type speech and being the leader we love him to be.

Sad that Wolffe, Cody, Rex, and Gregor weren’t in the finale. I wanted to see how Wolffe would turn to their side after that one ep and see Cody again because what actually happened to him. Also wanted to see how Wolffe, Gregor, Rex ended up together on a random desert planet.

Hemlock being shot was awesome. I hated him. We can all agree that he basically conditioned regs into being the an evil bad batch right? I wish we could e seen who was under the mask though. It just seemed kind of like wasted potential to have that operative be killed off without knowing if he was a reg or conditioned Tech or whatever else after being a huge part of the season.

Overall, great show and I will miss it forever 🥹

[juniperquills]

[veny-many]

Clone trooper Sergent Fox(not the commander!) was the trooper of 501st, who somehow learned about Concord journeyman protector and really loved it, wanted to join them when the war is over. I know it's Legend but it is still interesting.

Rex: So you want to join journeyman protector?

Fox: Yes, when the war finally ends, I want to join them, sir!

Rex: That would be great, Fox.

<moments later>

Bacara: And why did you commed me in the middle of the night?

Cody: Rex told me that one of his trooper was too excited about Journeyman protector, and can't figure out how to help him because he doesn't know about the Concord...

Bacara:

Bacara: I want to see him as fast as I can. I will teach him everything. I will-

Cody: Calm down, Bacara.

[spashahoney]

Luke: I’ve looked up to all the men in my life.

Luke:

Luke: Because I’m shorter than them :(

Your ideas make me happy, @gravity-loves-me

[nahoney22]

Why were we never given any more Hound content

I bet he fine as hell

[chic-a-gigot]

La Mode, Pl. 340, 11 janvier 1834, Paris. Coiffure orne de diamants par Sergent, boulevart des Italiens, 22. Robe de satin et Manteau bayard des Magasins Gagelin. Digital Collections of the Los Angeles Public Library

The woman on the left is wearing a short-sleeved, pink dress with flowers decorating the skirt and bows decorating the sleeves. She is wearing elbow-length, white gloves, and is holding a fan in her left hand. She is wearing a necklace and earrings and flowers in her hair. The woman on the right is wearing a navy blue coat with fur lining over a white dress decorated with bows on the skirt.  She is wearing elbow-length, white gloves and is holding a handkerchief in her left hand.  She is wearing earrings and her hair is decorated with flowers.

[yoursecretadmires]

I already rewatch 28 weeks later and I never know Sergeant Doyle aka Jeremy Renner look hot in that movie🤭

[vnmof]

[scrumptiousstuffs]

I did not like the way Sergent Yod bully Mudmee and Atom in that Camp. There are better ways to build resilience and teach independence in teenagers. Giving them grade F, degrading them as losers and made them have the lesser food and accomodation as punishment are not the way to do it.

While I appreciate the above then allows the show to highlight how kind and gentlemen Kongthep and Half in helping out both Mudmee plus Atom, that camp is a farce.

And how is Atom volunteering going down the Zipline from that tall tower an act of cowardice??? He went up despite his fear of heights. That itself is an ACT OF BRAVERY.

Urgh….i have so much feelings for this episode and most of it are negatives cause of the awful camp!

My Love Mix Up, episode 5

[sergeant-tears]

“I’m incredibly angry right now, I think I should be alone.” Ghost said, his voice completely unwaveringly calm— like an oceans brewing storm. His face is stone but he looks unhappy- so so unhappy underneath the mask and layers of hurt.

Soap used to fight that, because he wants people to call him down when he is upset, but after both of them sparring turning into legitimate bloodbaths one too many times, he knows better now. Simon knows his limits, knows his feelings in a way that Soap almost envy’s if not for the fact it was his only coping skill.

“Alright, I’m going to go to the mess, and I’ll bring you a tea in an hour.”

Ghost nods, turning himself away to go to the gym and probably break another punching bag with a flurry of fists which would have Price giving him the patented disappointed captain look. It would work better if it was undercut with the pride of knowing the man behind the destruction of property was unleashing his feelings in a healthy matter.