#idk. maybe try lifting weights and gain some confidence.

[scoops-aboy86]

Window pt 1

Steve doesn’t realize quite how much he’s put on recently (or how enamored to a certain metalhead he’s become) and gets stuck in a window. 

Inspired by this. Part 2 from Eddie's POV is here.

rated: T | words: 2765 | cw: none | tags: chubby steve, pre-relationship, weight gain, steve’s bisexual awakening in progress

And, uh. Don’t have a couple beers and drive. But, like, it was the 80s, so. 🤷‍♀️ 

Maybe also don’t try to climb through a window when it’s the 80s and most people don’t lock their front doors anyway. 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ 

(Would Eddie and Wayne lock the trailer, when it’s just as easy to pry a window open? I mean yeah Eddie has drugs in there but he clearly hides them well enough that even he can’t find them sometimes, so idk.)

Eddie isn’t home, but that’s okay; it’s an impulsive visit, as most of them are, so Steve knows what to do. He goes into it all confident and cocky because he’s pretty sure it’ll be easier than the other times he’s done it because the porch is right there, no drainpipe climbing required or nosey younger sibling to catch him at it with a look of annoyed disgust that will echo down through the years. 

Mike still looks at him like that, no matter how many free rides or free movies he and his friends manage to wring out of Steve, which is, in Steve’s opinion, really dumb of the kid. He doesn’t even like Nancy like that anymore, for fuck’s sake, get over it Mike. (And it’s easier to go off on a tangent in his head about Mike than really examine the comparison between climbing into Nancy’s room and climbing into Eddie’s, so Steve is just rolling with it.)

Anyway, the point is, he’s got this. He pulls the BMW up a respectful distance away so that Eddie and Wayne will still have room to park later in case he’s here that long, and all but bounces out of the driver’s seat into the warm night air. 

Maybe he should have thought about it a little more, because, as it turns out… he does not got this. 

“Do mine eyes deceive me? Is it the King Steve, what through yonder window breaks?”

“Hi Eddie,” Steve says flatly, unsurprised. He’d heard the van rumble up, and the distinctive squeak of the driver's side door. For the last hour or so he’s resigned himself to standing by on the old easy chair on the porch, chin in his hands where his elbows rest on the dresser just inside the window. At least it’s late enough (and Lucas managed to talk Max into summer camp this year) that no one else is likely to see him.

He can hear the grin in Eddie’s reply. “Hiya, Stevie. Mind explaining what I’m coming home to here?”

Steve doesn’t want to dignify that with a response, because fuck, isn’t it obvious? But he also doesn’t want to antagonize his friend and risk being stuck in this window all night—not that he thinks Eddie would leave him here, but Steve doesn’t want to deserve to be left. With a heavy breath out through his nose, he says, “I’m a little stuck here, man. Help me out?”

Almost immediately he feels Eddie step in close, hand on his right hip where it’s caught in the window frame, and maybe just a hint of warm thumb brushing over where the skin is pink and pinched. Steve has to hold himself very still to avoid reacting to that, not completely sure he didn’t imagine it anyway. 

“Out?” Eddie asks, sounding like he’s trying to calculate something in his head. “Or in?”

“Uh… whichever gets me unstuck faster, I guess?”

Eddie chuckles. “In it is, then. You must’ve been pretty determined to get in there and wait for me, you made some good progress here. I’m guessing you got to a point where you couldn’t get the angle right, huh sweetheart?”

“Jesus, Eddie…” Why did he have to put it like that? And why is it giving Steve goosebumps? “Look, I think if you just lift me by the legs a bit I can, like… walk forward on my hands, kinda, and—” He tries to demonstrate, but bumps the neck of the guitar with THIS MACHINE SLAYS DRAGONS scrawled across its front and makes a failed attempt at lunging to catch it, wincing when it thumps down against the floor.

“What was that?”

“… What was what?”

“Steve…”

“Okay okay, it was your acoustic, I’m sorry dude, I just… I’m pretty sure it’s fine.”

“She’d better be, Harrington. Lucky for you my sweetheart is still safe in the van, far from your clumsy fumblings, or I might have to call in the cavalry.”

Again Steve twists, trying to look at him, and something else falls off the dresser—he thinks it’s just some sort of magazine. “Liar. I know you wouldn’t call the cops on me, Munson.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t.” Eddie shoots back. “I’d call Robin.”

Steve grimaces again. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“And Wheeler, too. Jon’s still in town, maybe he could be persuaded to bring his camera to document this posterior for posterity.”

Suddenly Eddie’s hands are on his ass, and Steve is torn between a vivid memory of trying to shove Dustin into a vent at Starcourt and a zing of nerves that should not be linked to his pseudo-little-brother in any way, and it’s all Eddie’s fault—

The first real shove catches Steve and his flatlining brain by surprise, jostling him enough that his elbows slip and he nearly cracks his chin on the cluttered dresser surface. “Hey,” he calls sharply over one shoulder. 

“Sorry sweetheart, did you need a ‘one two three go’?” Eddie pats at his ass with both hands, tapping out a little rhythm, and Steve has to restrain the urge to donkey kick him. 

“This isn’t funny, Munson,” he insists. “And some sort of warning would’ve been nice, yeah.” His tone is sarcastic, but his face is burning red, and once the words are out he has to bite his lip to keep from saying anything else. Not that Steve even knows what, there’s just… something, precarious, on the tip of his brain that might spill out his mouth if he’s not careful, and he doesn’t want to find out what it is like that. 

Eddie snickers. “It’s a little bit funny, but point taken. I’m going to give you another push here. Ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.” What a fucking day. All Steve had wanted was to smoke up a little and hang out, like they usually do. And okay, maybe he’s a little grumpy that Eddie wasn’t even home when he got here— “Where were you, anyway?” he asks, grunting and trying to wriggle forward with every shove. Might as well talk, get his mind off the vice grip the window frame has on his hips. “You’re usually—oof—here when I finish a closing shift.”

“Practice ran long,” Eddie grunts back. After the first few rounds of ready steady go he started to get more serious and really put his weight into it. “That, and Gareth’s been having some… shall we say, romantic troubles lately, and needed consolation and advice.”

Steve feels a vague prickle of jealousy, even as he manages to grip the dresser edge hard enough to hold onto a fraction of an inch of progress. “What kinda consolation? Been smoking without me, Munson?”

“No,” comes the amused reply. “Just a couple beers. I do have other friends besides you and the monster hunters club, you know.”

Which really makes Steve’s face flame, because he… doesn’t. Not anymore. Not even a girlfriend; it’s like his heart’s not fully in it anymore and they can smell that on him. He tries to replace his embarrassment (Eddie didn’t mean it like that, Steve knows he didn’t) with determination, wrenching himself forward without regard for the way the window frame’s hard metal edges scrape against his skin. He doesn’t feel the full bite of it in some places, thanks to the knots of scar tissue the Upside Down had left him with on his sides, it’s fine. 

But almost immediately there’s a strong grip on the outsides of his thighs. “Woah there Stevie,” Eddie cautions, and he actually sounds concerned. “Don’t hurt yourself, man. We’ll get you out of here and get you caught up if you want, I have beer here too, alright? Just…”

“Just what?” Steve grumbles. He doesn’t know why he feels so stung, feels like Eddie ditched him—they didn’t even have plans for fuck’s sake. At most, they’ve had a string of casual hangouts roughly every other night at around the same time for a months now, but they’ve never really talked about it, never solidified anything. 

He tells himself that he wouldn’t even care if he hadn’t gotten stuck in the window like an idiot, but if that’s the case then why does this show of concern feel like a cooling balm over his temper?

Eddie sighs, but not like he’s annoyed. More like… he’s choosing his words carefully. “Just, uh… try to suck in a bit?”

Blinking, Steve tries to look over his shoulder. He can’t quite see Eddie, just out of the corner of his eye, but it looks like he’s chewing on his lip. Then he pushes himself up on the dresser and looks down along the front of his body to where he’s stuck, trying to make sense of…

Oh. His face goes hot again. 

The window doesn’t open very far, is the thing, and for the first time Steve fully registers that it’s not just his hips that are caught. Reddened skin peeks out from the bottom of his shirt, and some of that is because it’s ridden up during his struggles, but he also… makes contact with the top of the dresser, which comes up to about an inch or so below the frame. Now that he’s paying attention, he registers part of himself pressing against the metal of the trailer exterior, too.

He used to be pretty trim, but that had been back in high school and while running from monsters and dark wizards in an alternate dimension. 

When did he get a belly?

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, and does as he’s told. 

Eddie doesn’t belabor the point, just gets his hands on Steve’s ass again with a “One, two, three, push.”

And it’s still a hard drag against his front, but it works this time. Steve jolts forward, too caught by surprise and still flustered, catching himself hands-first on Eddie’s messy bedroom floor and gracelessly flopping the rest of the way in. The carpet (or really, the layer of dirty laundry on top of it) doesn’t smell great, but he stays slumped there for a moment, recovering. 

At least he avoided landing on the acoustic guitar, though. 

“You okay there, dude?”

Steve groans. “I’m fine. That fucking window looked bigger from the outside, that’s all.”

Eddie lets out a disbelieving snort, then follows him in, shimmying over the narrow sill with an ease and silence that comes from years of practice. When he’s done, he leans his scrawny ass back against the dresser and spreads his hand in a tada motion. 

And Steve’s not dumb, he knows that he’s put on weight since the Upside Down. Since finally coming down from constant recurring nightmare panic mode. Yeah he didn’t realize it was so obvious, but he can admit (at least in the privacy of his own head) that that’s why he got stuck. 

He opens his mouth to say something along the lines of you don’t have to rub it in, but snaps it shut again when Eddie steps forward and offers him a hand up. The grip is calloused from guitar playing, strong and sure from slinging amps around—and he feels that zing again, phantom handprints on his ass. 

“You okay?” Eddie asks once they’re on the same level again. “You were really wedged in there, looked kinda painful.”

“I,” Steve starts, but stops when Eddie’s other hand lands on his hip. Which is not completely unusual… Eddie is a touchy guy, very hands-on with all his friends. He’s poked at Steve’s sides before, comparing their bite marks, and Steve hasn’t really thought about it much before now. 

Because that’s what trauma-bonded people do, right? The last party that had rounded up all the young adults, Nancy smoked with them and she and Jonathan had spent most of the rest of the evening cuddled up together, lining up the scars on their palms. 

Eddie’s thumb brushes the skin above his waistband, ghosting warmly over where it’s red and a little raw. 

“I’m fine,” Steve manages to say, but he’s not. His brain is going haywire—from the touch, from Eddie’s Bambi-eyed stare, from all the thoughts that have been pining around his head tonight and everything he’s pointedly not thought about too. (About climbing in a boy’s window. About being jealous. About hands on his ass and how it hadn’t been a bad surprise, and the thumb grazing deliberately over the swell of softness at his middle with concern bordering on reverence.)

Something in Steve aches, and it’s a familiar pang. It reminds him of how he used to feel whenever he looked at Nancy, before he had let go of the last scraps of that dream. Eddie seems more real, more touchable… He always is, when they hang out, and especially when they’re by themselves. Eddie is a touchy guy. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says slowly, distracted. He keeps running his thumb along Steve’s softness, drifting up a little further under his shirt until his pointer finger meets skin too like a dazed afterthought. His tongue darts out to lick his lips—Steve can’t help the way his eyes are drawn to the motion. “Yeah, you are… pretty fine…”

Not once, not for months, has Steve felt electricity like this in the air, under his skin, sparking at a simple touch. It’s why he stopped flirting with the girls who came into Family Video, even the ones who eyed him in a way he knew meant they were a sure thing. The way Eddie is looking at him right now, even though he’s…

Well. He’s let himself go, hasn’t he? And he knows it, kind of knew it for a while and just not thought about it because he didn’t think he had too, but it’s getting obvious now. Steve has never felt more self-conscious about his body in his entire life and, right while he’s in the middle of reconciling wanting to pout because his best guy friend was off having fun without him, Eddie just had to go and compliment it. 

Steve swallows hard. “You, uh. You think so?” He’s not fishing for complements, he’s not, he just wants to know what Eddie means. 

Still slowly, Eddie looks up at him through his eyelashes. It’s almost shy, which is so unlike the Eddie that Steve has come to expect, but his eyes are big and brown and a little wild in an achingly familiar way and Steve has to resist the urge to sway forward—

“Of course, Stevie,” Eddie says quietly. Is he afraid that they might be overheard in the empty trailer? Afraid to break the moment by speaking too loud? His hand is still just under Steve’s shirt, light little touches that Steve can’t help but find soothing, almost hypnotic. “Always.”

Steve wants to lean in, because he knows he’s not reading the signs wrong. 

But then, at the last second, he remembers what Eddie had said about having a few beers with Gareth. Probably just enough to be a little tipsy. But if Eddie is gay—and, like, Steve wouldn’t be surprised, he’s learned some of the clues from Robin and there have always been rumors—he’s not out. Not to Steve, anyway, and Steve… is whatever he is, apparently, which definitely warrants a phone call and possibly a bathroom floor confession to his platonic other half as soon as he gets a chance, holy shit… Suddenly everything feels delicate, like there is something there but one wrong move and it could shatter, and Steve doesn’t know if he could take anymore shards to his heart. Not these days, not if it’s Eddie. 

He just wants to be a little more sure first. Do this right, if it’s really happening. So, for now, he only says, “So, uh. Wanna smoke?”

Eddie smiles, dimples popping and eyes lighting up, and his hand gives Steve’s hip a little inadvertent squeeze as he bounces past him. “Yeah, we can do that. I’ve got a few joints already rolled, I’ve got snacks—” He’s already hauling his black metal lunchbox from under the bed and riffling through it, his bright enthusiasm making Steve feel warm all the way through. “Prop my baby back up, will you? Treat her right, Stevie, or I’ll be forced to rescind my offer of pretzels and bagel bite pizzas.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” Steve agrees with a chuckle, and does as he’s told. It doesn’t escape his notice that Eddie just mentioned some of his favorites for when the munchies set in. 

He’s going to figure this out, but for now they can just hang out like normal and have a good night.

[t33nunic0rnz]

post meet!

okay, so i just got home from my meet, it went okay, i got 6/9, really struggled with bench and got 2 red lights on my last deadlift attempt (soft lockout but it was not that heavy for me). just some initial thoughts, i am stoned so they might be all over the place: overall it was pretty fun, i definitely understand why people like competing. i had really strong squats bc i kept them super low since they have been a struggle lately, but everything felt super light and good there.

that gave me some confidence out the gate, which was nice.

then my bench opener was 57.5kg and it was ezpz, but i failed my next two, idk why exactly, just seemed like i didn't have it in me. my third attempt the bar bounced on my chest so it took ages to get the press command, and idk it just messed me up. i benched 140, failed 145 during my last heavy week, so maybe i already wasn't feeling confident, and my shoulder injury/hypermobility stuff is flaring up because i've been working so much and not standing. so that was definitely a factor, and it makes sense that i'd have a hard time. i had a harder time setting up in their rack and that played a factor. so lesson there is, stand more at work, keep up with pt exercises, and my bench will do better. and make sure i keep healthy boundaries with work and don't overwork myself.

i really want my bench to get better, but it's hard, it seems to be stagnating/getting worse. i was so close to really benching my bodyweight and now i feel like i'm further away, and im not sure why. probably stress from work and the above shoulder pain. i was feeling amazing about my bench in january, doing 145x2. I supposed it's not that big of a drop, it just sucks that it coincides with my first meet. but you win some, you lose some.

deadlifts honestly felt great, like i really wasn't worried about them at all, i am pretty confident in my deadlift these days. watching the videos back, while the lifts go up quickly and they're (mostly) well executed, i definitely was rushing my setup because of my nerves. to no one's surprise, i was kind gripping and ripping, which can bug my back, and isn't the best way to do the lift. so i think the best thing there is practice really. i just honestly didn't feel like i was rushing it all that much, but i really wasn't pulling slack enough. i think those bad habits will probably always creep up under times of anxiety (like right before a pr usually) if i keep practicing doing a thorough setup with heavier weights it will get easier to do. obvs.

honestly very proud of my deadlift, that is my best lift by far. and that weight felt so easy, it gets me super excited, like maybe i can actually lift more than that. so i will try and push myself when deadlifting a bit more and see what i can really do. though really, whatever i'm doing with my deadlift training seems to be working, so maybe i should just keep on keeping on.

so anyway, just some initial thoughts. i did have fun so i might do it again next year, but i didn't really see any other meets that i would want to do this year. garage gym competition is in a few weeks, but i don't feel energized to do that. i want to spend more time biking outside now that it's spring.

as far as future training goes, idk exactly, i still really love getting stronger, as long as my joints can keep up. would like to get leaner for the summer (in a healthy way). i have a couple programs kind of already ready to go, one is jeff nippard's powerbuilding 2 and the other is my usual stronger by science reps to failure bullshit. i know the sbs programming works for me, i have gotten way stronger since i started using it. but i was following powerbuilding this year when i was hitting those PRs, so who knows. what i think was going on there really is that i was stronger than i thought i was for a while, and i wasn't lifting heavy enough weight. i also think i made great gains from my last cycle in november, and i have been very consistent in my training since then. so really i don't think it came down to the programming. one thing that i love is overwarm singles, so i was adding that into his powerbuilding program for fun and (hopefully) gains and i want to keep doing that. i think that my peaking and rest time was just about right for this meet. i think if my shoulder had been in a better place i would have done better on bench.

either way i will probably just bike tomorrow, rest tuesday, and lift wednesday. by then i will likely have a feel for what i want to do programming-wise, and i'll get back to it. i think i will take a week or so off bench and shoulder stuff, and really focus on PT. i want to work on getting my squat deeper to protect my knee, which luckily doesn't feel bad post-meet.

i will probably write more later after i have had more time to think, for now i am going to puzzle and watch cozy vintage gaming youtube

[gospelofme]

47 Thoughts While Watching Part 1 of The Bad Batch season finale (spoilers ahead!!!!!)

“They’ll still come for you”. Ugh that sounds so sad. He’s confident about it too.

How did Echo get so good at ship repairs? Unless basic ship crap is mandatory for sudden repairs. Which I guess if you hang with Skywalker, that’s a requirement.

Aaahhh, the Kamino theme is memorable.

So I wonder if Rampart planned to leave Crosshair on Kamino all along?

I love the fact the Kaminoans kept secrets from the Republic/Empire. Like using their credits to fund their own projects.

I wonder how Omega knew about that platform….I didn’t think she’d ever left Kamino. Unless she went there with Nala Se for whatever.

Damn, I’d hate always getting wet when I go outside.

So the pad and lift are proximity sensor based. Not weight.

So the tubes aren’t documented on any schematics. So none of the blueprints that Tech has access to have them on there. That means one of two things:

- there are “official” and “unofficial” blueprints. Like some the Republic were given and the actual plans.

- Nala Se had the tube system built specifically for her.

Private research lab doesn’t mean secret…but still, why did she get a private one? Was it just to create the enhanced clones? Or was it used for more “off the records” projects?

And if there are other tubes that run throughout Kamino, and they’re all secret, WHY!? Like why do they exist? Surely the Kaminoans know they can just go wherever they want whenever they want because they fucking live there. Unless….they became prisoners in their own home….

About how uncomfortable Omega is having to go to the lab…

“why would I be?” He sounded like he rolled his eyes there.

The amount of salt that is being sprinkled by Crosshair right now.

“We didn’t have a choice?”

“And I did?”

Okay so when I first watched this episode, I thought that meant he no longer had his chip. But now I see it as Crosshair not having a choice because Hunter had committed treason by what his orders were telling him.

Also, I love the colors used in the control room. Idk why. They just all work. I think it’s because the rest of that place is so blinding with white light.

So how did they build the tubes under water….

“Most in Tipoca City don’t know about it.” So some do.

Omega sounds so sad. Honestly since I’m certain there were more than just five enhanced clones, since Nala Se said that that was all that remained, I wonder if Omega saw the clones that didn’t survive the experimentation.

About how Tech always looks like he’s texting. I’m waiting for him to take a selfie with Echo or something.

About Hunter still trying to convince Crosshair that this is all influenced by his chip. I think Crosshair knows he’s being used, but he (like the others in Clone Force 99) want some sense of normalcy. Like Echo said earlier, “we’re soldiers, what other path is there?”

Okay the alarm reminds me of the purge siren.

And the indoor alarm sounds like an airport alert.

About Echo taking charge, although I think he naturally is the next in command rank-wise. Do we even know the rank of Tech and Wrecker? What was Crosshair’s rank before?

Omega should’ve gone and tattled on them to Rex. Like “and then they just ditched me!! Again!! I know I have no combat training but still…”

Its pretty clear that Crosshair knows how the team is going to act. Like what tactics they’d use and decisions they’d make. Like on Bracca, Crosshair knew immediately the scanner frequencies were being jammed, because he had seen Tech use that trick before.

“We’re running out of time Commander” I have enjoyed that guy’s voice. It’s soothing.

The way Crosshair spits out “the Republic” makes me think there is something more than just the inhibitor chip at play. I wonder if he’s always harbored ill feelings towards the Republic. Cut had issues with the war that were so strong, he deserted. I wonder if Crosshair had similar feelings.

Wow he is really hurt about being left behind. And I can understand that. But Hunter did have a responsibility to Omega, Wrecker, Echo, and Tech too. He couldn’t risk them being shot and killed while trying to reason with someone who is shooting at him. Of course maybe if he had made more of an effort to get Crosshair to come with them…..of course I do think the Empire has done some brainwashing of Crosshair as well.

“I was one of you. You may have forgotten, but I haven’t. And it’s why I’m going to give you, what you never gave me. A chance.”

I think there is more to this than face value. It could very well mean he’s giving them a chance to join the Empire. But that whole conversion always used the term “choice”, not “chance”. “Chance” is used more as “an opportunity to do something”. That “do something” could be making a decision though. Like “I’m going to give you a chance to join the Empire.” But it could be “I’m going to give you a chance to get out of here.” Hunter didn’t give Crosshair a chance to prove he was loyal to them either. Plus the way the rest of Crosshair’s team reacted tells me they weren’t aware of their Commander’s intentions.

I love how Tech, Wrecker, and Echo are standing there like 😐

I thought it was interesting Crosshair decided to send Omega on a shuttle off world. Of course where would that have been? Just pick some random coordinates and say “good luck”? How would that be received by Rampart? Of course I don’t think he cared about Omega. That was just Nala Se and Lama Su really. And honestly, Crosshair was sounding like he’d actually thought about this. Like if Hunter wants to keep Omega safe, then he needs to realize that she won’t be safe with them. Especially if they’re being hunted. However there may have been an ulterior motive here too. With Omega out of the way, It will be like “old times” when it was just them. He probably feels like he was replaced by a kid.

The change in music though. The emotional, sweeping theme dropping down to a more sinister theme when Crosshair mentions their superiority over regular troopers.

“This is what we were made for.” What if, and hear me out…what if the enhanced clones were created specifically for the Empire. Their deployment during the Clone Wars could’ve been a testing phase. They may not have been prepared for the chance the inhibitor chips didn’t work. Crosshair had mentioned that Hunter couldn’t see the bigger picture. What if that is the bigger picture. That all of them were created to serve the Empire. Not the Republic. Which would explain Crosshair’s sudden disgust with it.

That reflection shot of Tech staring into the mirror. I like that shot. That’s really beautifully animated.

I have a feeling Crosshair knew his new squad wouldn’t listen to him. The “stand down” sounded like he was just saying it to say it. I don’t think he ever had respect for them, not after what happened with Saw’s fighters. They weren’t following him out of loyalty, but fear. And loyalty is a big deal to Crosshair. Honestly I think he had planned all along to kill his new squad. Like from the beginning. Which is why he was trying so hard to get his old squad members. The sooner he got them and convinced them to come to his side, the sooner he could shoot his new squad.

I have a feeling Crosshair know’s the reason why they were all created. Granted that could be brainwashing by the Empire to gain his compliance and loyalty. But something tells me that they were created specifically to become an elite squad for the Emperor.

Crosshair has some serious Anakin vibes when he’s telling Hunter to not become his enemy. And Hunter has some Obiwan vibes with the whole “we never were” line.

I do enjoy the weight they give Crosshair when Hunter flips him. Like the sound of him hitting the floor. He’s heavier than he looks.

Lmao that one TK trooper like “nope, imma get the fuck out of here.”

“Let the clones die together.” Yeah that bitch always intended to leave Crosshair on Kamino. Rampart never actually considered him important since he was the one that pitched the idea of an all conscripted trooper squad. He only had Crosshair as a part of it because Admiral Tarkin still liked the idea of clones. I think Rampart is going to try to climb over Tarkin on that Empire ladder. He didn’t mention to Tarkin that Crosshair was still on Kamino.

Aaahhh now the subject of the chip. Does he or doesn’t he? I think he does. The Empire wouldn’t remove it and take that risk of losing that compliance and blind loyalty. Plus the “does it really matter?” tells me he doesn’t know when, which he would if it was recent. He did have it in the first episode though. It showed up on the scanner and he did the whole “good soldiers follow orders.”

So I don’t think he was going to shoot Hunter. I think he feigned movement to make Hunter shoot him. He may not have thought Hunter’s blaster was sent to stun even. He may have intended to have Hunter kill him.

I do like how Hunter doesn’t hesitate to not bring Crosshair this time.

Damn the shots of the empty facility kills me.

Okay, so I know this was sad BUT the bombardment of Kamino was beautifully animated. Honestly. The underwater shots of the bolts hitting the support pillars. And it reminds me…Omega asked Tech about these the war was like and now she kinda knows. She’s never seen explosions like that.

Get ready for part 2

@jgvfhl @leias-left-hair-bun @escapedthesarlacc @halzore @eyecandyeoz

[grunge-me-up]

TW: ED thoughts & Weight talk

I have this urge to go back to counting cals/restricting and I know once I do, I'll lose myself in it.

My gym buddy congratulated me on my muscle gains, he told me how he could see my body change immensely (due to me going to the gym and putting in the work every other day but consistently).

And now that I'm faced with one week without my beloved gym (can't exercise at all or else my new tattoo might get infected/won't heal properly), I have this icky feeling.

I know that when I stop lifting weights (longer than a week of course) I'm gonna lose scale weight, due to muscles being broken down (when I'm in a calorie deficit) and I might feel better (probably not). I'll lose my hard earned muscles, and if they get replaced with fat, I might look/become bigger again instead of smaller even though my scale weight is gonna go down.

But I also think I could try to lose some scale weight (even with sacrificing some of my muscles) with diet/creating a calorie deficit, and when it's "low enough" (it's never gonna be probably, but I might set the goal to 55/54kg?). I can go lifting again and build my muscles back up and maybe set my body to this lower number... (I'm at roughly 58kg now).

Ah... I hate this. Bargaining and rectifying everything... and nobody cares except for me (my bf told me yesterday how he liked me at my SW with 69kg the same as now with 58kg and how it didn't change anything for him, but that he can tell I like myself better now and that makes him happy. And he's at the same place where I began working out/dieting/relapsing because he said, he doesn't feel right and knows he could feel better, when he would put in a little work, hes already pretty fit because of his job and I feel the same about him. He doesn't need to change anything but if it makes him happier and more confident I'm all for it).

And the most annoying thing is: I'm paying for my gym, 20€ a month and this month I won't be able to go at all for 2 weeks which is 10€ down the drain. But I'll make use of it the other days I can go and even if I pull through with this "losing scale weight and sacrificing some muscle"-plan, I'll go to the gym and do cardio and some lightweight/Bodyweight exercises probably.

Idk. I truly don't know. Everything is in my head. Full-fledged out and I don't know if I'm gonna put it into action yet. But it kinda looks like it... I'm sorry

[katsukikitten]

Hewwo! I was wondering if you could do a Bakugou x Fem Athlete reader? I use to be a wrestler and when I watch bnha and see their workouts/training, it brings me back to the good times where i use to slam ppl into the floor lol (im soft i swear-). Maybe reader goes to a boot camp and doesn't see bakugo for awhile and they come back hella buffed up and can even lift Bakugou with ease, maybe they're a weightlifter?? Idk but i wanna see bakugo shook at his strong gf lol

I hope you like this my dear.

You were what most people called a behemoth.

A thick woman with muscle on an athletic build instead of thick hips. Your shoulders were broad, strong and could carry the weight of the world.

And often times it did.

It used to bother you that you were not as femme as other girls. As cutesy and petite until one day you came to the realization that you'd never look like the women on the front of magazines.

And that was a o fucking kay. And everyday since then you fought with yourself and your self image.

Because bitch you were a queen.

And being a confident cut throat queen added to your muscular stature had most *boys* avoiding you like the plague.

But that was fine because you were looking for a M! A! N!

Although you didn't know you'd find him so soon and in such an odd package.

It took one deadly smirk aimed at you for you to fall head over heels.

And it took one knockout punch for him.

Depsite the mutual feelings the two of you only ever interact or text to spar. You too worried that you're reading into his excitement too much. Thoroughly convinced he only sees you as a bro he can actually go all out with.

While he is too fucking oblivious to even realize he had feelings for you. Paying you compliments and even bragging on you in class with simple songs of praises such as "Tch. Y/LN would break your puney fucking arm in a wrestling match Kirishima!"

The doting ash blonde would eye you then, smiling proudly daring anyone to test your strength.

And double daring anyone to comment on that powerfully beautiful body of yours.

If he heard a single off colored comment or joke about you, whether you were there to defend yourself or not he would step in. Hands popping with unkempt rage as a shit eating grin erupted on his kissable lips.

The thought of him defending your honor had your cheeks burning with blush as you waltz through the thick doors of the gym, exactly where Kirishima said you could find him. Silently thankful that he is wearing headphones with music loud enough that he does not hear the door shut as you spy his damp, sculpted back pull his body upward as he counts with barely a grunt.

Well into the upper thousands as your heart flutters, body heating to the point that your kneecaps melt. Struggling to stand you turn on your heel, losing the nerve to tell him goodbye although you will only be gone for a short month. Still you wonder if you should send a text, thumbs hovering over the lit keyboard debating if he would even want to read a stupid message from a lousy extra like you.

And it wasn't like you'd get a reply while you were gone and even if you did where you were going your phone would be no better than a glorified iPod touch with the lack of signal out in bumfuck nowhereville.

You decide against it sliding your phone into your leggings pocket as you tighten the straps on your book bag setting out for what will hopefully push you in the right direction.

Camp is hard as you knew it would be. You were training with the best strength oriented quirk pro heros in the game! Sending you through grueling obstacle courses with semi truck tires and endless pits of sand and mud.

Not to mention you were pushed to the point of puking more often than not. Still you somehow made friends in between the exhausting training and gnarly cafeteria food. Laughing, helping one another and even exchanging numbers with promises to text when a mythical bar of service was found.

Cool water drips form your hair as you plop down on the bottom bunk with a sigh, your bed mate pokes her head out to look down at you. Meanwhile you stare at the last text your friend Mina had sent you for the umpteenth time this week. A photo of you and Bakugo sharing a rare laugh during training both of your cheeks flushed and hair clinging to sweating foreheads over a joke long forgotten. But the feeling would never fade.

You damn her silently for being so sneaky and sneaky enough to catch both you AND Bakugo off guard.

"You've been sighing like you're s/o is away at war!" She chides, "So who are you staring at?"

This gains the attention of the other two girls in the bunks across the way, eyes gleaming at the thought of sharing crushes. Heat flushes your skin bright pink as you attempt to lock your phone but swift hands above snatch it from your normally steely grip.

"Oh." Is all she says as she looks closely at the photo, Bakugo shirtless with, dripping with sweat and wearing his best smile as you're three quarters to the camera cheesing hard as hell.

"Well shit I'd be sighing too. Your man is hot as hell! Does he train with you?"

"A..ah he's um not.." Fear grips your windpipe as you try not to sound creepy as fuck for looking at a picture of what is only your classmate. You clear your throat, "We're just sparring partners."

"What?!" She zooms in on his face before showing it to the other girls and yourself as best she can out of your reach, "My sparring partner never smiles. Make him your man!"

"I'm not his type, Kimi!" You rush out, embarrassment having you cover your face. Shit you'd never be his type.

You couldn't imagine anything more than a petite fiery or even just plain shy girl who wore dresses and heels. A woman with all the right curves that would dangle from his arm as he showed her off. Not some brute who could practically snap any man in half.

Your heart sinks into your gut, tears threatening to spill.

"Then what's his type?" She asks dryly above you. Mind racing as you think of how Bakugo looks at the opposite sex, hell even the same sex in your class and you come up with the same face each time. He wears his ever agitated snarl and that's if he even glances their way. Scarlet eyes narrowed into slits save when the look at you. They are narrowed only from the effects of his upturned lips.

"I reckon he ain't got a type then?" She says staring down at you from over her mattress. You avoid eye contact as you speak.

"I...I just can't see him with me. I'm all bulky and burly like." You flex your banded arms for emphasis before pointing at your bunk mate above, "While you're more toned and that of a fitness magazine model."

"So what? So fucking what! Haven't you seen me oogling you all week? Or the other women who would kill to have your gains! We see it sis, we see it and stan it. You carry muscle where most women DREAM to!" She jumps from the top bunk lifting your shirt up to your sports bra," Abs bitch, you've got washboard abs! Meanwhile my stomach can barely become flat. And your back! Ugh don't get me started how you're stronger than super girl with that toned back and beautifully rounded ass. Why are you selling yourself short?"

Your lack of answer is met with a harsh slap on your stomach before the timed lights in the cabin die out.

"The first thing I want you to text me about is how you asked that hottie blonde out." She threatens before jumping to the top bunk like an agile cat.

The month ends with tight hugs and a long ride home. You welcome the scenery of the winding roads and mountains as the train speeds past, muscles screaming from the month before.

And stomach growling wanting nothing more than a home cooked meal. If you did the math right on the chore wheel. You'd be coming back to Katsuki's cooking. You slip in and out of conciousness dreaming of spicy grilled chicken.

A surprise waits for you as you get off at your stop for the train. The platform crowded with familar bodies of class 3A

as you dismount from the steps.

"WELCOME HOME Y/N!" They shout in unison as Mina and Urarka rush in for a hug. You pull away laughing before your eyes scan for a blonde and when they come up empty your stomach twists for a moment. Mina pulls your thoughts away as slips her pink arms through yours guiding you towards the exit of the train station. She fills you in on the things you'd missed that fun summer month.

Swimming, fireworks, watermelon.

All activities that they planned to do again of course, espeically now that you were back. Not to mention her now boyfriend, Kirishima who, always the gentleman, took your bags to carry on your soon to be journey down six blocks back to UA, to home.

Still you wish Bakugo would have come to greet you too, you pull out your phone for a moment. Ready to text Kimi how you were gonna be forever alone, instead you lock your phone angrily shoving it into your bag.

With each step closer towards the dorms your body becomes heavier, weighted down with your mood drop that you brush off as "I'm just tired Mina-chan" endlessly until you reach the dorms.

The class floods into the their third year dorms as the smell of food wafts over your senses, causing mixed feelings to fist fight in your stomach.

"I'm just gonna get some sparring in before dinner." You smile at Mina, as you head out clad in your ever present athleisure wear, short black shorts and a tanktop.

The outdoor punching bag takes the brunt of your anger, of your disappointment and mostly your own self loathing over being upset over your training buddy not coming to greet you.

Still it stings to know he didn't even bother to show up. Hell he didn't even greet you at the damn door to the dorms!

Arching your fist you slam it into the bag that bursts open as the chain snaps, soaring into the treeline behind the dorms. You huff, back turned before your stomach growls, begging to be fed.

You collect yourself as you hear the sliding door to the living room open.

"Oi! Y/N!" His voice comes out biting as he approaches. You look to the source damning your heart for fluttering at just the sight of him. You notice his skull shirt seems a bit tighter than when you last saw him, muscled arms flexing as he keeps his calloused hands in his pockets. Harsh eyes look you up and down. Roving over your body making you feel naked beneath their intensity as he silently assess your thick frame. Scarlet lingering on exposed soft thighs that he may or may not imagine himself between sometimes. It took the entire month of his "sparring" partner gone to realize she may have been more than just that.

He fights the blush on his cheeks before a devilish grin overtakes his normal snarl.

"Atta girl, coming back stronger than ever. Bet you kicked some ass at camp huh?" His praises has your heart soaring as your body moves on it's own. Anger melting into warmth as you scoop up the muscled man into a bone crushing hug, giggling as you swing him in a circle. That is before you realize your giddy action could make him seem weak, something Bakugo loathes. You set him down with several rushed "Sorry"s before he grips your wrist tightly. Eyes boring into yours as he struggles to keep his breathing even.

"No I should be the one who's sorry." He growls.

"For what?" He answers as he pulls you closer to him until your lips crash into his. Hands roving up your toned arms before strong fingers pull at the hair at the nape of your neck deepening the kiss while you turn into putty in popping hands. After a few moments he breaks free, looking over your stunning features.

"For not fucking doing that sooner. For not fucking realizing that I admire more than just your strength." He looks away slipping his hand into yours as he pulls you back to the dorms, "Come on! I didn't make my girl's favorite just so it could get cold damn it!"

He drags you into the house as you watch after him before you snap a photo sending it to Kimi with a caption underneath.

"He beat me to the punch."

[wakkowraith]

I was listen to Attention from Charlie Puth, and I was thinking about a prompt where McCree get interest in Hanzo, Hanzo start to gain more confidence towards his needs, the needs he choose to not feel for a long time, Hanzo start to sleep around with another person (Zarya? Idk, any other overwatch person) McCree comes with a real talk, but Hanzo don't know if his feelings towards the Cowboy is genuine or he was just enjoying, you know, the attention. (Sorry 4 spell mistakes, I'm Brazilian):>

here ya go friend! (your English is really good, dont worry

EDIT: AO3 Mirror Enjoy!

When Jesse first met Hanzo, they started off on not-so-friendly terms.

Knowing what Hanzo did to Genji, Jesse wasn’t going to let him off without a warning. Even if Genji had already given his forgiveness, and was the one that brought Hanzo to the new Overwatch HQ (formerly the Watchpoint), Jesse couldn’t be satisfied with that.

As Hanzo Shimada stalked by where Jesse leaned against a wall, cigar on his lip, he uttered his warning: “Best keep yourself in check, Shimada.”

Hanzo had given him a stare, and it was established then that they would not be friends.

Which, ironically, wasn’t at all what happened.

They had gotten over their threatening staring contests whenever they were in the same room when Jesse saved Hanzo from getting his head blown off like a watermelon on a shooting range.

He had spotted the sniper when it targeted him. Jesse ducked behind cover, a stray piece of debris from the abandoned construction site on the far side of Numbani. The half-finished building had been home to some Talon activity, and Jesse was sent in a team of six to the location.

With Jesse hiding, he pinpointed the sniper from a building across the street. One of the windows, probably. But then the gunfire died down, and Jesse thought the sniper finally took the attention off of him; then he saw Hanzo above.

There was a part of the building that opened up to its skeletal structure of steel beams and pipes. Hanzo had been pushed back to that part of the building, and Jesse noticed a stream of gunfire as Hanzo tried to duck under a beam. He could dodge the soldiers chasing him, but he did not know of the sniper across the street.

Jesse let out a frustrated growl. He picked up a nearby rock - later he admitted that he could’ve done it differently - and chucked it to where Hanzo stood. It made a loud clang as it hit a steel beam, causing Hanzo to jump in place and notice Jesse waving his arms on the ground.

“Sniper!” He yelled, hoping his voice carried two stories up.

Hanzo must have heard; he ducked just as a loud crack broke the air, the sniper’s bullet just hitting the space his head previously resided.

There was no time for gratitude then, so they both went back to their respective jobs, now aware that a sniper was targeting them. It was back on the drop ship that Hanzo paused before Jesse and silently nodded his thanks.

The second step to becoming accidental friends was coming to the same spot on the roof to get drunk. Jesse was already sipping at his bottle of Jim Beam when he spotted Hanzo sitting on the edge of the roof, legs dangling off and a gourd of sake in his hand. Jesse had already claimed this spot back in his Blackwatch days, a small secluded part of the Watchpoint that allowed him to brew in his own thoughts, so he wasn’t about to give it up first.

He took a seat in his usual place, not that far from the spot Hanzo chose. They passed each other a glance; another silent argument. But Jesse learned that day that they were both as stubborn as mules.

It ended when Hanzo got up first to leave, some hours later, with an empty gourd. When he did, Jesse almost missed the company.

Then it just became a casual thing. More often than not, Jesse would find Hanzo there, or vice versa. They would sit in silence, or Jesse tried to break the ice after he knew they each loosened up a bit. Conversation remained trivial; opinions on politics, current events in the world. Never anything in Overwatch, never about each other. It was safe that way.

Jesse would crack a few jokes and he began a game with himself to see when Hanzo would crack a smile, or hide a laugh behind a cupped hand.

Meeting Hanzo on the roof almost felt a break from the rest of the world.

So he supposed he should’ve known that he got too attached when Hanzo went MIA in a mission.

So he might have gotten shot - it wasn’t his fault that they didn’t expect to encounter the Reaper, after all, but it was partially his fault that he let himself get cornered. While nursing a fresh shotgun wound to his side, he witnessed an arrow coming out of nowhere to burst through the Reaper’s chest. He disappeared, as expected, into a slithering cloud of smoke, but Jesse could do nothing but shout for backup as Hanzo climbed up a wall to chase after the Grim Reaper knock-off.

He was missing for all of fifteen minutes until he returned to the drop ship, at which point Jesse chewed him a new one. Angela had already wrapped up his wound, but he was in danger of jostling the wound when trying to get in Hanzo’s face about the danger of the situation.

It may have been when Genji grabbed his shoulder to tell him to back off that it sunk in how much he had gotten attached to Hanzo’s presence.

So maybe they had become friends.

It took another a night of drinking together and watching Hanzo try to apologize for the event. The moment felt too awkward (never about each other)  so Jesse cracked a stupid joke, watching Hanzo’s head tip back and his throat bob as a hand tried to cover his flushed face, and Jesse found himself absolutely stunned, suddenly in awe of the beauty in front of him that he didn’t notice until now.

Fuck.

So maybe he was a little more than attached.

He was in the middle of still figuring his - crush? Love? - when they recruited a new force from Russia. Agent Zaryanova, a former bodyguard of Katya Volskaya, who showed interest in their little organization not long after a prior mission in Russia. She was an obvious bodybuilder; her large, muscled frame dwarfed Jesse. He supposed they were all in awe of her at first, though she paid little attention to any of them except Reinhardt. She challenged the burly man to an arm wrestling contest immediately, one which she lost after holding for an impressive fifteen minutes.

And then, when Jesse rejoined the gym once his side healed enough, he felt the first pangs of jealousy. Zarya, as the rest of them had taken to calling her, was oblivious to the eyes on her as she focused on lifting weights. But one set of eyes in particular had Jesse stumbling on the treadmill; Hanzo watched from his place on a workout bench, eyes trained on Zarya. Jesse frantically looked between them and felt his heart in his throat.

He could just be imagining it, right?

But then, Jesse walked in the gym to find them working out together. Mid-conversation that Jesse couldn’t hear, Hanzo spotting Zarya as she attempted an impressively large barbell, Zarya mouthing something and Hanzo tossing his head back, hand over his mouth and throat bobbing.

Jesse turned around and left.

There wasn’t a doubt now. He had truly fallen for the archer. Seeing him made him weak; his smile made Jesse’s heart speed up; seeing him in action could leave Jesse stunned in awe.

Seeing him with Zarya? It made his stomach twist in knots. Like he had swallowed a jar of brine that kept trying to bubble up his throat.

The worst part was that he knew next to nothing about Hanzo; their late night meetings didn’t usually include emotional dumps. So, as much as Jesse wanted to avoid this, he had no choice but to consult Genji.

“You have a crush on my brother?” Genji asked, far too amused for Jesse’s comfort.

He nodded, attempting to preserve some dignity for himself. Genji watched him for a long moment, as if trying to read him, where Jesse was forced to stare at an impassive mask. Eventually, Genji laughed.

“You’re serious!”

“Why would I lie about this?” Jesse countered, far more defensive than he intended.

That got Genji’s laughter to die out. He seemed to be in deep thought for a moment before speaking. “I can’t read my brother as much anymore. He perfected his poker face since I saw him ten years ago. But I can say with certainty that he has a particular likeness for you.”

Jesse mulled over the words and got nothing. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

Genji sighed, and Jesse had a feeling he was rolling his eyes. “Just talk to him.”

So, Jesse did. Or tried.

He took ten minutes to build himself up for it - taking a shot of whiskey and practicing in front of a mirror how to ask Hanzo out to dinner - and stalked down the hallway towards Hanzo’s room. Their dormitory took place in two hallways, wrapped around a corner. Jesse had just turned the corner to the second hallway of dorms when a door opened and Hanzo walked out.

Now, Jesse had been pining after Hanzo long enough to know where his room was located, and it was not the room he just walked out of.

He might have continued forward if not for the way Hanzo appeared; flushed, in loose clothing, holding a towel to his face with a satisfied smile. Without a glance in Jesse’s direction, Hanzo crossed the hallway to his own room and the halls were lapsed in silence once again.

Jesse had enough guts to walk down and find out what the first room was, even though his stomach was already twisting in knots. His fears were confirmed when he found the first room belonged to ‘Agent Zaryanova’, as the words engraved on the door showed.

Feeling like he was definitely going to throw up now, Jesse hurriedly made his escape back to the safety of his own room.

He missed a few too many official meetings as a result of that incident. He had an awful crush, a literal crushing in his chest every time he thought about what he witnessed. It was obvious Hanzo did not reciprocate, so he found himself hiding away in order to avoid him.

While stewing in his own self-hate, Genji had barged into his room - he remembered the code Jesse still used when they were back in Blackwatch together.

“What happened?”

Jesse was buried under a pile of blankets and made a noncommittal noise. He really should have expected Genji to approach and yank the blankets off, but Jesse still whined and covered his face with a pillow.

“Is this about Hanzo?” It sounded more like an accusation. A little frightened, Jesse nodded into the pillow around his face.

There was a long silence, and Genji sighed. “He came to me all worried about where you were. He said he hasn’t seen you in a couple nights. I did not know you two frequently met up late at night.”

Jesse let the pillow fall away and scowled. “It ain’t like that.”

“Then what?” Genji asked, and Jesse realized he was angry. “Hanzo insisted on being vague about what you two get up to at night. If you’re messing around with my brother’s feelings, McCree–”

“I said it ain’t like that.” Jesse sat up, running a hand down his face. “He doesn’t even like me that way.” He tucked his knees up to his chest and absolutely did not pout as he said, “Seems to me he likes Zarya a whole lot more.”

It took Genji a moment to process. “Are you jealous?” At Jesse’s sharp glare, he barked a laugh. “At his workout buddy?”

“They’re more than jus’ ‘buddies’.” Jesse made air quotes. “Saw Han leavin’ her room the other day.”

As the implication set in, Jesse waited to hear what Genji would say. Maybe he’d feel bad, after Jesse had taken the time to vent about his feelings. Judging by the state Genji found him in, Jesse supposed he was a pathetic sight.

Instead he got, “You’re a dumbass.” He opened his mouth to defend himself, but Genji held a hand up. “When I said talk to him, I meant it. Now do it before I make Hanzo come here himself.”

So he tried again.

He saw Hanzo next when he finally crawled out of his bed. His first stop was the training range, a place he neglected since attempting the Hanzo-Purge. He had fallen out of practice with his usual schedule when he knew Hanzo would be around.

Even though he came out of his bedroom to see Hanzo, he still wasn’t prepared for when he finally did.

Hanzo was just as elegant as ever. He had on his typical mission clothes, the type Jesse loved; it exposed one pec and that intricate tattoo that drew Jesse’s eye ever since he saw it. With his back taut as he strung back his bow, letting an arrow fly, Jesse witnessed just the barest smirk as it hit dead center on the target.

As Jesse stepped up to a target, he kept his focus on reloading Peacekeeper. He was still formulating a way to start a conversation when Hanzo beat him to it.

“It seems our paths haven’t crossed in a long while, McCree.” Hanzo kept his eyes on the target, lining up another arrow. Jesse had a hard time pinpointing his tone.

“Yeah, just got hit with a bug.” Even Jesse heard the lie in his tone, but all Hanzo did was purse his lips, letting the arrow hit with a dull thunk on the target. It was off-center.

“That is unfortunate.”

“Yeah.” Jesse held up Peacekeeper, intending to aim for the head of a training bot, but his first shot hit the shoulder. He cursed. “Sorry to miss our usual ‘Get Drunk and Sulk’ time.”

That, at least, got him a smile. “No worries.”

They settled into a rhythm where each worked peacefully, almost like the comfortable companionship they shared when drinking late at night. He even caught Hanzo glancing at him every now and then, and a warm feeling like hope began to rise in him.

As Hanzo began to collect his arrows, Jesse felt like their time was cutting short. Hanzo slung the sheath of arrows across his back just as Jesse approached him.

“Hey, Han,” Jesse asked, suddenly nervous. “You free tonight? For dinner?”

Hanzo looked at him blankly for a moment. Then, almost stuttering, “Ah, well…Zaryanova and I had plans, but…”

And Jesse remembered why he wasn’t going to do this.

“That’s alright, darlin’,” Jesse said, voice surprisingly steady for the knot tightening in his throat. “Some other time, then. You have a fun time with Zarya.” Then he turned heel and stalked off, not trusting himself to ramble more.

So, he stood at a weird impasse. Pining for a man he’d never get, watching him give all his attention to someone else. Being unable to do anything about it.

But at the same time, relishing those moments he got. Making Hanzo laugh, admiring him from a distance. Their ‘Get Drunk and Sulk’ nights was simultaneously his favorite part of the day and the bane of his existence. Being right beside Hanzo, having the ability to touch and tell, yet knowing the consequences doing so.

Genji cast them glances when he thought Jesse wasn’t looking. He dodged any questions asked by the man. Jesse had gotten the answers he needed from Hanzo, and now he was on the road to acceptance. Hopefully he’ll eventually get over this too-big crush that felt stapled to his heart.

It certainly didn’t help that Hanzo seemed oblivious to his pain.

He had turned into the dorm hallway, returning from the latest checkup from Angela - his wound was almost completely healed, and that would be his last checkup - when he was witness again to Hanzo leaving Zarya’s room, flushed and sweaty. He leaned in the doorway, listening to something Zarya said that made his face impossibly more red, and he said something with a curled lip before closing the door. Then, as if to torture Jesse, Hanzo lifted the hem of his shirt to run over his face, lacking a towel this time. His refined ab structure made Jesse feel like the wind was knocked out of his lungs. He paused in the middle of the hallway, shock making him incapable of planning a course of action. Does he turn tail and leave? Or try to walk past as if he never saw anything?

Before he could decide, Hanzo took notice of him.

“McCree.” He smiled, and damn if Jesse wasn’t weak for that smile. “I wanted to apologize if I seemed as if I was rejecting you the other day. Zaryanova and I had plans, but I was going to ask if I could make it up to you.”

He could see their ‘plans’ right in front of him, but Jesse was only stuck on the fact that Hanzo was asking him out. “I–What did you have in mind?”

Hanzo honest-to-god winked. “Just our usual.” He stalked past a struck Jesse, their shoulders brushing. “I’ll see you tonight.”

So, safe to say, Jesse was shitting bricks.

‘Our usual’ probably entailed their nightly drinking sessions. It wasn’t much of a date, if that was truly Hanzo’s intentions, but it could be just to get him riled up. He had no idea which one Hanzo meant.

He tried to dress casually, his usual serape thrown over his shoulders, but he dabbed on some extra cologne just in case.

Hanzo was already at their usual spot, gourd on one side of him, right next to another bottle. Jesse took his place, already uncapping his own whiskey. It would be a rough night without some alcohol in his system.

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come,” Hanzo said, and Jesse wondered if there was something more vulnerable under the teasing tone. Hanzo gripped the top of the second bottle he brought and twisted the label to show Jesse. “I got this for us to try.”

“Us?” Jesse asked, watching as Hanzo unveiled two shot glasses.

“Yes,” Hanzo confirmed, twisting the top of the bottle open. “Us.”

Jesse had never been more unsure about a statement in his life. Nevertheless, he accepted the shot, and hummed at the taste.

“Not as much bite as my usual stuff,” Jesse noted. “But stronger than your sake.”

“I figured you would enjoy it after your gripe about my choice in drink,” Hanzo said with a smirk.

Jesse averted his eyes, hoped his blush didn’t show in the dark. “Certainly better.”

Hanzo poured them another shot and they lapsed into silence. Unlike their previous late night get togethers, this silence felt uncomfortable. The air felt charged with something, something that made Jesse down his shot quick.

Hanzo broke the silence with a cough. “How was the mission in Venice?”

Jesse paused with the tip of his whiskey bottle brushing his lip. “Was alright. The casino definitely had Talon action, but we just got there at the wrong time. Maximilian was nowhere to be found.” He took a sip, not missing Hanzo’s eyes trained on him. “Brought back a helluva lot of shit memories, though.”

“Right,” Hanzo said, quietly, like he was treading on eggshells. “That was where Blackwatch…”

“Yeah.” Jesse wasn’t sure why he was asking. They didn’t talk personal. But like always, he found himself unable to stop rambling. “The day everything started to go wrong.” He glanced at Hanzo. “Your brother was there, too.”

“He told me.” Hanzo had his eyes in his shot glass, the dark liquid barely visible against the night.

“Then why’d ya ask?” If Genji already filled him in, he didn’t need to know Jesse’s perspective. This whole conversation felt out of place for them.

Hanzo didn’t move his eyes. “I want to understand you.”

Jesse’s thoughts paused. “What?”

Hanzo finally looked up, and Jesse thought, for once, he dropped his poker face completely. “You’re a strange man, McCree. You disappear for a few days and then lie to me about it. You try to ask me out and looked terrified when I take you up on the offer. And then you get aloof when I ask you about your life on our date.” Hanzo’s eyes flickered to the ground between them. “I am confused about what you want.”

Jesse’s brain seemed to have stopped working. His mouth opened and closed for a moment, until he could ask, “This is a date?”

It was Hanzo’s turn to look frightened. “Was that not clear?” Before Jesse could reply, Hanzo had a hand covering his face. “I apologize. I must have been reading into this too much.”

He made a motion as if to stand up, and Jesse was reaching for him before he could get too far. Jesse had his grip on Hanzo’s arm, who looked as if he’d been struck with jumper cables.

“Hang on, hang on,” Jesse said, making Hanzo pause. “You definitely haven’t been reading too much into this. In fact, you’re spot on.” Jesse took a deep breath, allowing Hanzo to sit back down. When Jesse realized he wasn’t trying to leave anymore, he let his hands drop. Hanzo seemed to sit closer now. “I like you Han, I really do. And I wanted to ask ya out proper, to dinner or something, but I…” Hanzo’s hand ghosted over his jaw and it made it hard to finish his sentence. “I just thought…”

Then his face was being angled and his lips met Hanzo’s. For a moment, he let himself melt into it. His hands ran up Hanzo’s chest, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, swallowing a low moan that shook his spine. It forcefully reminded him of how he was going to finish his earlier sentence however, and he made himself break away.

“Sorry,” He said at Hanzo’s puzzled expression. The hand on his jaw carefully tangled in his beard. “I can’t. Not when you’re with Zarya.”

Hanzo’s eyes widened and the hand on his jaw fell. Jesse immediately missed the contact. “What?”

His evident confusion made Jesse doubt himself. Still, he pushed on. “I saw you leave her room, all…” He made gestures to himself, struggling for a term. “Flushed.”

Hanzo watched him blankly for a long moment, and Jesse wondered if he hallucinated the entire thing. Then Hanzo barked into laughter, making Jesse jump as it echoed into the night. “Is that what you believe?” At Jesse’s flat stare, he laughed some more.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Jesse said, crossing his arms. “I was wrong. What actually happened in there?”

Once Hanzo recovered, he took another shot just to torture Jesse with a coy look. “Do you remember Zaryanova’s arm wrestling match with Reinhardt?”

It took Jesse a moment to answer. “Yeah?” He had no idea what this had to do with anything.

Hanzo met his gaze evenly. “When she first arrived, I was impressed by her workout routine. We match fairly well in strength, and she had a vigorous routine that I could challenge myself with. Then she asked me to help her build up her arm strength to challenge Reinhardt again. She wanted her training to be top secret, in case Reinhardt ever found out. So she asked me to meet up at her room to practice.” He smirked at Jesse’s dawning realization. “It was a good challenge for both of us.” He poured them both another shot.

“Arm wrestling?” Jesse asked, suddenly feeling silly.

“Arm wrestling,” Hanzo repeated, lifting his shot glass.

Jesse stayed silent as he watched Hanzo down the shot, setting the glass down with a hesitant look his way. He seemed unsure at Jesse’s reaction.

He was visibly relieved when Jesse broke down into hysterical giggles.

“So you mean–” Jesse broke off into laughter mid-sentence. “I could’ve been tryin’ to hit on you long before now - and you weren’t sleeping with some other agent while trying to get with me?”

Hanzo shook his head, covering his mouth as he laughed. “Yes, and no.” He leaned forward, their noses brushing. Jesse felt dizzy at the close proximity. “I have been interested in you and only you.”

When they kissed, Jesse leaned into it. He let his hands grip Hanzo’s hips, their kiss deepening into something more intense, something that promised more.

Jesse was not about to let it go.

[fit-as-fxck]

saturday workout & update

Warmup pushing a 165 lb sled x5 and pulling it back into place x20 yards

mobility warmup

conventional deadlifts 2 sets of 8 reps

barbell row x2 sets and then I got bored and decided I didn’t want to work back today

sumo deadlift 4 sets @ RPE of 8

dumbbell tension & pause squats 4x15

superset with: dumbbell tension RDL’s 4x15 

scapular pull-ups and dead hangs until failure 

Some notes on this: strength on deadlifts is definitely down but thats okay because it’s not as low as I thought. My pull-up work is feeling really good lately. I’m working on grip strength pretty much at the end of every workout. I threw in a few barbell squats at the end of this workout but didn’t count them because I wanted to try out a lifting belt. The belt was pointless for me because I couldn't get it tight enough on me, even on the smallest notch (such is life). 

My weekly routine is looking like: 

Two or three days of lifting (Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday).

Three days of running (Monday, Wednesday, Friday). 

Sunday is a hiking day or resting day. 

This plan is flexible because I do go to yoga and might throw in weight training on most days after my runs. It all just depends. I’m moving with what works for me right now and focusing on eating e n o u g h . Unfortunately that was my kryptonite. I have to convince myself that eating enough won’t make me spontaneously combust. It’s a weird irrational fear I developed but I'm glad I caught it in time to stop it. I greatly underestimated the amount of general activity I get on a daily basis outside of my workouts. For instance, yesterday I hit 20,000 steps. Yep. Moving a ton. I swear, everyday something new dawns on me. 

My cardio is in the trash but I’m able to get it back out with effort and the more I eat - the more I’m able to handle and feel “better”, ya know? I’ve split my lifting workouts into push/pull days, even though I’m focusing on running right now and just using the weight training to supplement. I still LOVE to throw heavy weight around. There’s just something about it that makes me feel fierce and I don’t want to lose any strength gains. 

It recently struck me how... weird I'm feeling about where I’m at. My cardio is in the trash and getting it back out of the trash can feels D I F F I C U L T . But doable with persistence. The thing about getting yourself out of the trash can is that getting over the initial hump of “oh shit. this is where I'm at and it’s hard” is a tough pill to swallow. It feels almost humiliating. Not like “ha ha you’re in a trash can” but like swallowing my own pride enough to accept where I am. In order to get anywhere, you first have to accept exactly where you are and know that moving from it is possible. Most people don’t want to do either of those things. They don’t want to love and accept where they are at and that it is hard and they don’t want to believe that they are much more powerful than they think they are. Your beliefs are built through action. However painful at first but that action builds confidence that others can’t destroy. After you get over that hump of “oh shit this is hard for me and once upon a time it wasn't”, well, it won't be easy but at least you won't have to get over the hump again. I tried to stay really objective about it and not be a dramatic bitch but I am hooooooman to the utmost degree and this week felt terrible but it won't for long. If I had a dollar for every time I had a really stupid setback in life (idk how to finish this sentence so use your imagination). Sometimes I take a look at it and I'm like, wow. I’ve fucked up so many times, in so many different ways that I've lost count. I’m going to be 30 soon believe it or not and I'm still out here fucking up. Maybe you don't ever reach a point where you don't fuck up anymore. But the good news is the only way to learn is through failure and finding out what DOESN’T work gets us closer to what DOES. It’s the trying 99 times until you get that 100th time where it works. You can only learn this on your own or watching others and learning from their mistakes too but not many are honest and real about theirs. It’s important to note that everything is relative so comparing your story to someone else’s and vice versa is pointless and will do nothing but send you into a pit of despair. Just make sure the story you are telling yourself is one of growth and possibility (because we are the stories we tell ourselves) and not a life held back by your own limiting beliefs because of the other highlight reels you see. At any moment you can choose to be the comeback kid. Its a choice. And so I do the only thing I know how to do - I move forward, knowing that I made a mistake many people have made (or haven’t) and that by doing this it has turned me into a wiser person.

I’m taking the rest of the month off of Tumblr updates because I want to remain focused, put my head down and work. I’ll continue to increase calories and activities as I see fit and track my progress.

[manymessyfandoms]

Hey! Your Tony and Peter writings are so cute, do you think you could do one where Peter has to protect his classmates (maybe with Tony? Idk up to u) and the reveal happens? Thank u, and have a good day!

Hi there, lovely! 

Well believe it or not, I received a similar prompt from @seyenna a few days ago so your girl’s merging them! (specifically Peter outing himself and Tony helping with the aftermath and helping Peter deal with his sensory overload)

ALSO I’m making this into a class field trip to Stark Tower because once again, I’m drunk off power and I cannot be stopped 

The field trip was something Peter had been looking forward to for awhile. He already knew everything about the Stark Tower and had access to all the floors, so he figured he’d be able to sneak away and hangout with Tony and the rest of the Avengers, which was far more appealing than school. 

“Can you introduce me to the Scarlet Witch?” Ned excitedly asked as they loaded on the bus. “Or the Black Panther! Is he there? Dude, tell me he’s there.”

Peter laughed. “T’Challa is back at Wakanda, man. He is king.”

“Your life is so cool,” Ned said as he shook his head in disbelief. 

“But everyone is actually really excited to meet you.”

Ned’s eyes got impossibly wider. “Th-they know about me?”

“Yeah, man! You’re my guy in the chair. Who else would I tell them about?” He nudged Ned’s shoulder, and Peter felt a surge of affection towards his best friend.

Ned was grinning wildly. “Today is going to be perfect.” Peter just smiled back.

“Welcome back, Peter,” FRIDAY’s voice rang as he walked into the building and Peter instinctually replied with, “Hey, FRIDAY.”

He turned and saw his peers looking at him with confused expressions. “I- uh, I have an internship here, remember?”

Flash scoffed. “You mean you weren’t lying about that? Wow, I’m shocked. I doubt anyone actually living will know you even are, though.”

It took about five minutes before Flash realized he was horribly, horribly mistaken. 

“Peter!” Steve Rogers called out with Bucky Barnes at his side. “Tony told us your class was coming in. That’s fun.”

“You’re Captain America! And- you’re the Winter Soldier!” Flash sputtered, beyond confused. “But how do you know Parker?”

Steve cocked his head. “We work with Pete all the time.” He turned towards Peter. “Anyways, come by tonight after school’s out. Bruce is making lasagna.”

Peter’s face scrunched up. “Do we really trust him to cook real food?”

“Nope. That’s why you’ll be bringing the take-out over when you’re out of class.” He walked over at handed Peter a hundred dollar bill. “Just grab whatever when you’re on your way.”

“Will do,” Peter said with a little laugh.

“Okay, go back to your learning and whatnot. Bye, Peter, bye Peter’s class.” He paused right before he left and pointed at Ned. “Guy in the chair?”

Ned nodded frantically. “Yes, sir, Mr. Captain America, sir.”

“You come by too.” With that, they duo walked away. 

Peter thought that the look on Flash’s face was enough to keep him going for at least the next few months. 

It wasn’t until about halfway through the day that everything went to shit. 

“Welcome to my lair! Or you could call it an office, whatever floats your boat,” Tony said when the class entered the room. “Pretty standard stuff. FRIDAY, will you please play the presentation video I put together?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

“Come on, kiddos. Gather around.” The students all grouped together, trying to get closer to the wall that just turned into a screen, except for Peter, who stayed back. 

About a third of the way through the video, Tony walked up to Peter. “How’s it going, Pete? Everyone blown away by how awesome I, and everything I own, am?” he muttered. 

“Oh yeah, because it’s not like they weren’t already.”

Tony chuckled. “Don’t sass me, kid.” Peter raised his hands in surrender. “So did you hear about dinner tonight? You’re going to have to pick something up because I’d be dead before I ate anything that Banner-” Tony was abruptly interrupted by all the lights turning an alarming red.

“FRIDAY, what’s going on?” Tony said, sounding worried. 

“It seems there’s been a security breach. I’m not sure-” Her voice shut down. 

“FRIDAY?” Nothing. “FRI, talk to me.”

Peter felt a chill go up his back. “Tony, something’s really wrong.”

Tony looked at him and Peter noted the flash of fear in his eyes. “Okay, kids. You’re all going to stay here while I go figure out what’s happening. And I mean all of you.”

Peter realized what the pointed look meant and he leaned over and whispered, “I can help, just take me with or something-”

“No, Pete. You’re going to stay here on lockdown, where I know you’ll be safe. I don’t know what’s going on, but it could be dangerous. Just stay here.”

That’s how Peter found himself pacing around Tony’s office as he waited for some update. 

“Peter?” Peter jumped when Michelle put a hand on his shoulder, but he couldn’t help it. His senses were going haywire. Something bad was going down. “Are you okay, man?”

“I- I’m fine, MJ. It’s just-”

“You need to chill, Parker,” Flash said from where he was sitting on the floor with his eyes closed. “We’re in the Stark Tower with a bunch of Avengers. There’s literally nowhere safer. It’s probably just a system malfunction.” The words were barely out of his mouth before there was a boom and the door flew wide opened. 

Peter’s class immediately screeched and stood up, backing themselves so far against the wall that Peter wouldn’t be surprised if there were body imprints. 

The figure was about six feet and was covered in metal, but the most alarming trait was the metal wings that Peter was all too familiar with.

The figure took off the mask, and Peter was shocked that it wasn’t in fact Adrian Tomes behind the mask, but a guy that Peter didn’t recognize. 

“Oh, hell,” the guy said. “What’re you all doing here? Shit, I don’t even care. Everyone look away. This will only hurt a little.”

Peter reacted before he could even register his movements. He leaped onto the wall and shot himself at the new Vulture, hitting the arm that was raised at his classmates. The shot rang out, and blew up a few feet away from the nearest student. 

“Well, what do we have here?” the guy said. “You must be Spiderman! You know, Toomes wouldn’t tell us who you were, Spidey. Said something about you being just a kid, but I didn’t realize just how kid you actually are.”

Peter slowly reached into his pockets and got his web shooters, his adrenaline making everything feel like it was moving at a thousand miles per hour. “Shut up, Big Bird. Nobody wants to hear it.”

“Did they know?” he loudly whispered, pointing at Peter’s class, and he faltered for the first time. “Oh, they didn’t, did they! That’s a tough break. At least you’ll all be dead anyways, so I guess it doesn’t really matter.”

Peter anticipated his next move and shot his web towards his arm, yanking him forward before he could attack. “You know, for a super villain, you really aren’t all that scary,” he quipped, hoping to show more confidence than he actually had. 

“Yeah?” the guy said back heatedly before grabbing the nearest student, who just happened to be MJ. “Well for a superhero, you really aren’t all that heroic.” Before he could blow Michelle’s head off, Peter shot his web at her waist and pulled her forward before jumping onto the ceiling and dropping onto the Vulture 2.0′s head. 

Peter was attacking him with his webs, trying to disable him in any way he could when Tony with the rest of the Avengers ran through the door. The guy was down not five minutes later. 

“That was close,” Natasha said.

Steve nodded. “Too close.”

“What the hell happened?” Rhodey muttered as he ran a hand down his face. 

“Peter, are you okay?” Tony asked worriedly after the fight when he walked over. The rest of them turned to him too.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” Tony was still checking him over when Peter tensed. He slowly turned around and saw his entire class gaping at them. 

Suddenly, Peter was shaking.

“You… you’re- you can’t-” Flash sputtered. Peter was about to run out so he didn’t have to deal with all of that, but then he noticed the multiple smart phones being pointed his way.

And that was when Peter knew it was over. 

It was all over the headlines the next day, Sixteen-Year-Old Kid From Queens, Student by Day, Vigilante by Night: Who Is Peter Parker? 

Peter just wanted to be left alone. He couldn’t even leave his house because of all the reporters. He stayed in his room for three days straight without talking to anyone before his door swung open and Tony Stark yanked him out of bed. 

“Come on, kid. You’re coming to the tower. You and May can stay there from now on. It’s got higher security than this place. Besides, the team’s worried about you. I’m worried about you.”

“Tony, it’s over,” he muttered quietly. “Years of hiding, gone just like that.” 

“Hey,” Tony replied softly. “Nothing’s over, Pete. This is all going to be fine, I promise. You just have to wait for things to die down a little.”

“But- but nothing’s going to be the same-”

“No, it’s not, but things can be better.” Tony sat down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “I won’t lie, it’ll be hard at first, but one day it won’t be so hard. Then the next day it won’t be hard at all.”

Peter took in a shuddering breath and his worst fear rushed out of him in the form of a whisper. “I can’t do this on my own.”

Tony tugged him towards him so he was hugging the kid. “You’ll never be alone, Peter. Trust me, I will never leave you.” Peter nodded, feeling some of the weight lifted from his chest. In his head he knew that Tony probably wouldn’t abandon him, but the three days Peter spent alone with his thoughts messed with him. “Now let’s go. No more moping on my watch. The teams waiting for us.”

Despite feeling a little bit better, Peter couldn’t stop the full body flinch when he stepped outside and was assaulted by the bright flashing of camera lights and the loud shouts from reporters. 

“Peter! How did you gain your abilities?”

“How old were you when you became Spiderman?”

“How long did it take for you to-”

“ENOUGH!” Tony yelled and the reporters froze just as Peter was getting dizzy and the edges of his eyes were going dark. “Just- enough! Peter Parker is a sixteen year old kid, that does not need to be dealing with your bullshit!” Peter sucked in a breath as the momentary quiet stabilized him. “If I see even one of you roaches near my kid ever again, you’ll have my lawyers so far up your ass you’ll be tasting them for months.” He paused. “Okay, not my greatest metaphor, but you get my point. Leave. Peter. Alone. Now goodbye.”

None of them said as word as the two of them walked to the car. 

“Alright,” Tony said as they buckled in. “You ready, kid?”

Peter felt his phone buzzing nonstop in his pocket. He saw the shadows of reporters outside the car, and could practically feel the stares from the kids at school, but one look at Tony and he was reminded of his promise.

You’ll never be alone, Peter. Trust me, I will never leave you. 

Peter took a deep breath before replying, “Yeah. I’m ready.”

[reptilisss]

5 months wow

so i’ve been on t for like 5 months now and i’m doin’ a lil recap for the folx at home.

i have legit just no idea what other people think of me when they look at me, and i haven’t really asked anyone.

the only way i can tell if i look “like a guy” or not is based on my interactions with people, mostly customers at my job or strangers i accidentally slam into when i’m in public.

the changes i’ve noticed have been:

deeper voice - people have actually commented on this without my prompting. but i’ve also noticed a difference when i listen to old recordings versus new recordings of myself. it’s deep enough now that i am only called sir over the phone! my dad says i sound like my uncle now.

broader shoulders/bulkier arms - something i’ve noticed and miles has also noticed. some of that might be due to my job where i lift and move stuff. who knows.

masc fat redistribution -

face - my face is thinner, little bit more angular than pre-t

chest - my tits are slightly very slightly smaller

thighs/hips - little less fat on my hips and thighs but nothing major, really looking forward to whenever that fat decides to fuck off.

increased appetite - i eat like all the time now. i haven’t gained weight. i might have actually lost a little weight based on doc visits (i’m estimating, since i’m weighed with clothing on at the offices)

hair - yo i’m so hairy now. i have maybe twice the leg/arm hair, although it’s all still light blond (my dad’s body hair is the same way, though). more armpit hair. more pubic hair. i have maybe 5 chin hairs that are black. it’s thrilling.

side note - my hairline is changing to be more masc, not going bald tho. baldness doesn’t run in my family.

bottom growth - you can pm me if you wanna hear about this, i’m not trying to get nsfw this evening. 

other shit

idk if i have acne related to t because i already had acne. it isn’t any worse.

ya i still get my periods but they’re a bunch lighter. ready for them to fuck off too.

i’m greasy now this is awful i have to wash my hair so much more often.

if you don’t make eye contact and just act like you belong in men’s spaces, no one says anything. piss wherever you want. fuck.

i’m nervous about passing, but i am so much more confident in myself and can see a future for myself as a guy. i’m greasy now, but i’m the most optimistic i’ve been since i hit puberty.

chest surgery is THIS YEAR. in the COMING MONTHS, SHIT.

[seashanties-and-tales-blog]

Hello, may i interest you in some Dabi angst™? 👀 (scenario or hc up to you!) I read on another blog about him and s/o breaking up on bad terms..but what if really she was pregnant and one day after (idk, 3yrs?) he sees her with said child and was 'wtf??' but then sees the child has his eyes and he's torn with still following Stains' ideals or dropping everything and wanting to be a proper father (not like you know who) to his kid? *bonus if kid looks at him and asks mom if thats dad*

Sure! I hope this is kinda how you wanted it to be.

* I gave him the name Shouma, meaning ‘esteem, and true, reality’

Life is full of struggles and issues on a day-to-day basis. Some people approach these issues head on, some try to hide from them, and everyone has different ways of living life. 

You just try to do the best that you can, no only for yourself, but for your son. 

It had been about three years ago that you and Dabi broke up, and it has been a little less than three years ago that you gave birth to your son. His son. He didn’t know you were pregnant and neither did you. When you found out, you were filled with dread, anxiety, fear - all emotions that you will never tell your son that you felt.

You love him. You never imagined that you could love someone so much, but when you look in his eyes, you see Dabi. When you see that head of black hair, you see Dabi. When your son accidentally caused a fire in the kitchen, you saw Dabi. 

You were sure Dabi would want nothing to do with it. Plus, it was the time that the League of Villains were gaining traction, power, and Dabi would have just left you and your son in the dust. 

“Shouma*! Where are you?” You call, jogging around your small apartment in search of your son, who currently has chores to finish. He listens well to you most of the time, but he certainly is a free spirit. Independent like his father, and this worries you. 

“Here!” He responds, and you hear his voice from the living room. You walk down the hallway and find him in front of the TV, watching with his eyes glued to the screen.

“What are you watching?” You ask, waking in.

He doesn’t respond, just points at the television. 

You follow his hand. On the news is that League of Villains that’s grown so much over the past three years, and in a candid shot of him mid-crime is Dabi. Cold expression, flames bursting out from his hand. The police didn’t catch him, they didn’t because they can’t. Seeing him makes your heart race.

“Is that… Is that dad?”

This question makes your heart stop.

In quiet debate with yourself, you feel like a weight is on your chest. “No, Shouma, it’s not.” You eventually say, walking over to your son. He just makes a little noise, maybe one of disappointment, and you lean down to pick him up. “Let’s… let’s go play a game, huh? You can do your chores after.”

Your son smiles a smile that makes you feel that everything might be okay.

It had been only a few days since then, and while Shouma didn’t ask any more questions about his father, you could tell it was on his mind. You even caught him watching the news more often, if only just to get a glimpse of Dabi again. 

The day started simple, so simple you thought it would remain that way. It’s a Saturday, which means no school for Shouma, and you decided to congratulate him for his good grades by taking him out for a treat. 

On the way back from the mall is a not so safe walk through the city. Once it gets late, the area around your apartment isn’t welcoming. Villain activity is more common, since they feel more confident hanging around once the lights go down. As usual, you assume the role of protecting Shouma.

“Hey, stay close,” you whisper down to him, holding his hand tighter and tugging the dark-haired boy closer as he plays with his new toy. 

“Mom… Mom,” he says it a bit louder the second time.

“Yes?” 

“Over there,” he motions with his toy across the street, where a tall figure in a dark coat is very clearly looking your way. 

When you notice this, you immediately stop moving, paralyzed to the spot. He had been following you for a few minutes now, and you were so caught up in your thoughts you didn’t hear Shouma calling for you at first to alert you.

Your breath staggers in a gasp the moment you lock eyes, and on instinct your hand grips Shouma’s tighter. 

Dabi starts walking across the street, rid of many cars at this hour. With every step he takes closer to you, your heart beats faster. And faster. And faster. 

He’s standing before you and Shouma but it doesn’t take long for the tense silence to break. “I knew it was you, (Y/N).” Dabi says, grabbing your wrist.

“Don’t.” You try to snap at him but you can only manage a whisper. 

Shouma is quiet beside you, and although Dabi knew you were walking with a child, he’s too focused on you to comment on it. 

“It’s been three years,” he says, not attempting to grab you again. 

“Why does that matter, Dabi?” You push Shouma behind you in a feeble attempt to hide him.

He’s quiet this time, the eyes that you’ve tried so hard to forget boring into your soul the same way they always used to. He looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how. 

“Mom, is that dad? From the TV…” 

You hear Shouma’s small voice from behind you, and you realize that he doesn’t always take your words into consideration. Perhaps there’s a part within Shouma that always could tell that Dabi is his father. 

He moves out from behind you, tentatively, while gripping the fabric of your clothes. “Shou-”

“What the fuck..?” Dabi interrupts you, and you don’t bother reprimanding him for using that language around Shouma. 

Your son and Dabi stare speechlessly into each other’s eyes. When Dabi first caught sight of you, he couldn’t see Shouma’s features. Not from far away and not in the darker light. But up close, he sees everything. The resemblance. How he looks just like he did at that age, before everything went wrong. 

“He’s mine, isn’t he?” Dabi asks you, looking into your eyes again. 

You’re scared to answer, but you know he knows the truth. Slowly, you nod. 

His face is hard to read. Maybe because Dabi himself doesn’t know what to feel. Finally, interrupting the silence, he speaks again. “I didn’t know about him.”

“I never told you.”

“Why not?” 

“Why do you think?”

He’s quiet again after that, signifying that he knows the answer to that. 

“God…” You turn your head away in order to hide your shimmering eyes, tears starting to well up. When you lift a hand to wipe away one of the tears, Shouma tugs on your clothes.

“Mom?”

Dabi watches you pat Shouma’s head, pulling him against your side. 

He did love you. He does love you. No amount of venting his feelings through crime can change that, just cover it up. 

“Hey, come on,” he lifts his hand to brush your hair behind your ear, like he used to do, but you it away. 

People walk past you, unassuming, but you feel like it’s only the three of you on the street right now. “I can’t, Dabi. So don’t, okay?” You say, voice trembling. When he grabs your wrist again, you don’t push him away. 

“(Y/N), don’t leave. I’m serious. He’s mine, right?” He leans down and presses his forehead against yours. 

“So what if he is, what are you going to do? Be a father?” Feeling his skin against yours makes your body quake.

“I can’t be?” 

You know he can’t, or at least you’ve been telling yourself that for so long you believe it to be true.

You pull away from him once again and take Shouma’s hand in yours. “I’m sorry,” you say to Dabi, and after that you turn and walk away from him. The sudden movement unfortunately makes Shouma drop his toy on the pavement, but you don’t notice and assume Shouma’s calling for your name is to get you to stop for Dabi.

Shouma follows after giving up on the toy, but he looks back at Dabi with his blue eyes wide in curiosity. He reaches his hand out toward his father, waving a goodbye. 

Dabi stands still as he watches both of your forms retreat into the distance, his fist clenching at his side. Then he looks downward, gaze catching the forlorn toy on the sidewalk. He takes a few steps closer, leans down, and picks it up. His long, unscarred fingers observe the little object, perhaps the most innocent thing he’s ever held. 

He kept it with him even after walking away.

[dreamy-stars]

1/1/20

holy shit i haven’t spilled any thoughts in so long! i’ve changed so much! and i’m happier now. it’s a new decade! i have so much to say

2019 was a great year as i actually did things that would have made me uncomfortable. spring semester of 2019 was a shitshow i think i dropped a class and only took three. dropped diff eq with the bald guy and i remember sitting in class no thoughts head empty and trying not to cry. and then going to some tables on campus and calling mom and bawling and apologizing. somehow i got through the semester after crying over tests and assignments. OH i started lifting weights and working out and i love it. i love being strong. being healthy is something i’ve always wanted to work towards and the women on weights program was so enjoyable. i was trying to get rly toned to look good for the nct concert actually. unfortunately i haven’t worked out much since it ended :( hoping to get back into the gym once the semester starts again. i wanna be RIPPED for summer 2020 >:)

working at sweet hut was a great experience as i was able to learn more about myself and add to my resume! i actually learn pretty fast and even though i messed up a handful of times i just want to give myself some credit hehe. i liked making new friends there, as well as bonding with my cousin more. before, i would be a bit afraid of the long silences, but now we talk about whatever and never shut up <3 working a customer service job made me appreciate the fact that i am still working towards a degree. i don’t think i could do that for an extended period. my feet hurt every day and my hands were so dry and getting blisters like crazy. ofc night shift is crazy but i loved getting tons of tips each night. We Live In A Society. i think i became more confident in small talk? idk being on the register made me better but i didn’t even do it much. i also value customer service and tipping much more i always try to tip when i can. anyway i miss making drinks and burning the sugar on the creme brule. 

after working i became more motivated to work hard in fall semester. for this semester i picked two classes to be on the other campus so i could see if i could actually talk to ppl. it wasn’t that much of a change but ppl are much more open to talking in the first week i guess. i’m gonna miss that. joining vsa was the best decision this year i think. it took some courage to talk to ppl first but working at SH helped me ton. because of that i made friends outside of class isn’t that wild? too bad it’s on the other campus bc i would go more often. i think my schedule might not work with vsa next semester idk :/ i went to my first College Party this year which was so much fun! i was nervous bc i only knew like three ppl but just mingle-ing is fun when ur buzzed. i think my tolerance is pretty high idk how many shots i took :| anyway hanging out with new friends i made makes me happy. definitely a highlight of this year! also school went better than before!!! my grades are not the best but i know i put in work so i think it’s okay. also i need to stop relying on chegg so much LMAO...commuting was harsh on me and took up SOOO much time. i only skipped class a couple times (mainly bc i was sick) so i’m proud. didn’t take classes on other campus this semester bc i’m lazy and would rather spend time studying in the library nearby. 

love life is sad still. chemistry is SO important. i think through text is just as important as irl. i went on a date with this guy that was a boring and unfunny texter and was like lemme give it a shot maybe its diff irl. it was alright but so....boring like no flirting like....    also he was younger and i hate younger guys...feeling like a hag... anyway this semester im hoping to go on a date with a girl instead. i thought i had a crush on oomf but it was like for a week. idk if it would ever happen but i rly like his personality and humor. 2020 pls let me have a lover im bored lemme emotionally depend on someone

stanning bts is getting so hard tbh. i can barely keep up with content from LAST YEAR. so much happens. i only go on ig like twice a day and i go to like ten ppl’s twt i dont even scroll down the tl bc it overwhelms me LOL. just looking at bts overwhelms me like i feel anxious sometimes? bc i’m missing out on stuff...idk how to explain it but i think the mama speech from 2018 made me...humble? less focused? on them? like i don’t wanna be so attached and when the day comes that they d*sband i lose my mind. bc i was so devastated that day. kinda made me chill out. being busy with school and work also made it hard to focus on them. guess i really am growing up..but also i became so obsessed with nct i love the nct daily channel LMAO feels like i’m cheating but their content is easy to digest and i don’t get so emotionally invested i guess. when i watch bts i sit there and FOCUS and give them my full attention. nct is for after hw and just to chill. do i make sense? but as i’m on break and watching bts performances and run episodes, i realize how much i missed watching them. i love them so much still and always will! sometimes it shocks me how huge they are. like you can’t compare them to anyone now. they are the highest achieving group i think. PERIODT fjlajajhka thinking back to when they were smaller and i told myself i would support them no matter what and i didn’t care if they didn’t get big like i genuinely loved them and now they are loved worldwide like....my babies.....<3 uwu...it’s crazy how much they’ve achieved in 6 years. i’m so happy for them.

also shinee’s whole discography is on spotify now! i was listening to it the other day and CRYING like a baby. i miss jjong so much especially his voice. i remember being 11/12 and spending hours watching the shows they were on i really miss stanning them. their music brings back so many feelings. ugh so good.

my mental health has been pretty good this year i didn’t cry much and the source of my stress and sadness is always school. fall semester was pretty good. i learned recently that i get jealous over ppl only a little though. it just passes by in thought but i don’t voice it to anyone bc it’s stupid LMAO. i don’t think the jealousy is that bad just minor.

2019 was a great year. i never really noticed the changes and growth i experienced but it was really apparent this year and i’m glad i am evolving :) my goal for this year is to get fit and be more comfortable in the gym, gain experience in my field through joining clubs, and be even more social (also be better at driving hehe) i’m very thankful for those around me and i hope to be closer to friends in 2020. looking forward to going to vn in the summer!

let’s have a great 2020 jen! ♡

[randomunspokenwords]

24 (little and big)Things to work on this year

1. Take more As8 views pictures

The view of the skies in the evening is just so beautiful that sometimes it just makes me forget everything. It gives me the comfort and silent hugs that I need at times. So,even if these are ugly pictures, here’s to more #AS8views

2.Look at myself in the mirror more

The amount of self hatred I have for myself and my body is sometimes appalling. I have noticed how its been so long since I even looked at myself in the mirror. If i ever catch my image in a glass doors, even before anything, a voice in my head mimicking the sound of elephants goes off. I deserve love, from myself and I am going to try and give it.

3. Drink more water

Yes. I tend to drink alot of sweetened drinks (ice lemon tea) and apart from the detrimental weight gain it gives me, I notice how the lack of enough water has made my skin ugly. When I was young, I’d drink like 6-7 large cups of water at home. And while my friends were grappling with pimple issues in theri teen age, I NEVER had a single pimple, let laone a breakout. For some reason, my face used to be fresh. I rarely drink enough water now which explains the oily skin and idk the non-smoothness.

4.Lose weight.

I could go on about this.

5.Dress well

I guess that can happen only when 4 happens. Till then, heres to oversized shirts and pants.

6.Learn and be excited

When I entered year 1, I was so excited to be finally here in NUS. After the horrendous extra year that I had to spend to retake my A levels, I was finallly here, at the best university in Singapore (lol). And I was so excited and hungry to learn. I remember how I felt so free and exhilarated in my classes. I sat in the front, took notes and read so much. (nerd alert). Every essay/assignment was such a joy. Perhaps, that also explains why I did the best in year 1 ans 2. And then slowly, it all changed. I lost confidence. I begin to think “why bother when some one else is going to be even smarter? You will never impress the profs..” I begun slcakening. I mean I still managed to do reasonably okayish but the zest to learn was no longer there. What was the point I felt? I was never going to attain a FCH.I couldnt get the cheem readings.Every assignment and reading became a chore. I felt empty in classes. And now, in my final year, I just wana go back to how I was. Sure, the FCH may no longer within my reach but at least I wana graduate knowing that I’ve put my heart and soul into my work and accept whatever I land up with.

7.Lift

I have always looked at the gym corner where guys and girls would lift. A part of me would always jump with joy whenever I see girls in Instagram lifting. I have always wanted to also do that but yeah would always become so self-conscious. 

8.Learn to meditate

Easier said than done though. 

9. ; Tatto on wrist

Probably only after Iand my first job so that my parents dont hit the roof. Huhuhu

10.Final Thesis paper

I am dead scared for this. I cant even write a proper essay let alone a thesis. And a thesis means I have to talk to people-worst nightmare for an introvert like me. It’s going to be scary and sometimes when I think about it now, I get mini anxiety attacks. I am probably going to cry alot next sem. Hahaha.But I think, once I see my name on the final book, I am going to feel like everything was worth it and be proud of myself.

11.Sri Lanka

Like what someone said, maybe I need to sit down and think about what the heart really wants.

12. Learn to appreciate my friends

They are all different. They have different outlooks, different views, different practices, life trajectories etc. And thats what makes each of them special. SOme of them I see on a dalily basis and some I dont and some I soon wont. Some seem to have drifted while some I have drifted from. But they have been a great part of me and I know they all mean well for me and want the best for me. I wouldn’t be here if not for each and everyone of them. 

13. Wake up at 6am. Stop hitting snooze

Still a struggle

14. Be a better tuition teacher

Sometimes, its tiring tbh. Both physically and mentally. Sometimes, the kids dont listen, they dont bother and you know u can get away with it. You have the tempation of slacking a bit and just ‘drama-ing.’ For the sum of 20-25$ there is sometimes the tempation to just take a step back and think ‘this kid is not my child/sibling why bother so much?” But they are deserve attention and care. I wont lie, they tend to get on my nerves especially when I am there trying so hard to teach and they just cant seem bothered. But at the end of the day, there are just kids. Middle-class kids with parents who work hard to pay their fees. Be it 20$ per hour or 50$, as a tution teacher, I need to give them the best I can. And its also funny how I get my energy and happiness from them especially so after a tiring and long day at school and ‘D’ makes me play with his fidget spinner and talks about Rajinikanth. Or how he passionately taks about dragons as if they are real. (I have no heart to tell him the truth)

15. Speak up in tutorials

So what If i am wrong or my answers dont make sense right?

16. Finally run 2.4 under 15 minutes

This doesnt have much to do with fitness but throughout secondary and JC, i have never passed by 2.4km run.In secondary school, I remember that PE calling me out and embarrassing me in front of the class. In JC, thankfully, I had really nice classmates and P.E teachers. My P.E teachers knew I would probably fail my 2,4km but they never looked down on me. “You run, I pass you ok!” was what they would tell me. I would take over 25 minutes to just complete it. What was especially sweet was that my classmates would actually run with me. They would have finished their run like in 12 minutes (they were pros) and they would bother running extra rounds with me so I could finish. And thats why one day, i wana be ablet to run 2.4 under 15 minutes as a small appreciation :)

17. Organise my table and worksheets

18. Read more South Asian books :)

19. Give a speech/Talk

The amount of confidence I have when speaking to a crowd is......0. 

20. Sit down and send out applications to those comapnies that I think I will never get in

21. Attend more Indian weddings in sarees and make up

Stop thinking I am too ugly for them

22. Helix piercing

23.Go on  a date at least once

24. Love myself

Ultimately, it al boils down to this.