#Canadian Assignment Help

[assignmenthelperusa]

Use Top-Notch Assignment Help To Resolve All Your Worries

One place where students can pursue higher education is Canada. Students studying in Canada can contact us if they have any questions about assignments or homework. Our instructors, who are professionals in various fields, provide Online Assignment Help. Our highly skilled and extraordinarily intelligent team of tutors, each with specific knowledge in their subject, provides support to students. The majority of students are drawn to Canadian colleges because they offer affordable, high-quality education, which is something that all students require. After graduating from this nation's many colleges with degrees and qualifications, students are given opportunities in a variety of disciplines. One of Canada's top assignments help services is GreatAssignmentHelp.com. Ten years ago, we offered offline homework assistance services. After learning that many students were having trouble with their assignments, we began offering assignment assistance online services. We currently serve over 10,000 satisfied clients each month.

Academic Topics Our Canadian Assignment Help Service Covers

Time constraints cause many of you to work through the night. It could be the result of spending too much time on one activity or having several writing assignments to complete. For whatever reason, you can't ignore any topic. Because we provide A-1 quality academic papers in more than 100 disciplines for students of various study levels, students have selected us as the top online assignment help provider in Canada for over ten years. Among the topics we cover are:

Physics assignment help

Biotechnology assignment help

Psychology assignment help

Economics assignment help

MBA assignment help

Computer Science assignment help

Engineering assignment help

Arts assignment help

Nursing assignment help

Finance assignment help

The best thing about our services is that our instructors and writers cover a wide range of themes and fields. They have exceptional knowledge and abilities to perform in-depth research and adhere to the standard writing rules of Canadian colleges. Order Canada assignment help using our simple payment approach, then submit your paper on time to receive high grades.

Use These Three Simple Steps to Place Your Order

Take Advantage of Our Services in Just Three Easy Steps! Indicate Your Needs: Please include any assignment criteria with us while submitting your order. In addition to this, you can also indicate any other demands you may have. Our writers work appropriately.

Finalize the Transaction: Our professionals to begin working with your documents, and the payment process must be finished.

Get Your Assignment with an A+ Grade: Your A+ grade assignment has been prepared and will be mailed to you, or you can download it from the dashboard whenever it is suitable for you. Before submitting, make sure to proofread it and make any necessary changes.

Why Our Assignment Writing Services Are the Best

Our exceptional quality makes us stand out among Canadian Assignment Help writing providers. Our assignment writers ensure prompt delivery and well-structured material for your papers supported by flawless research. Here are some reasons why Canadian students Favor using greatassignmenthelp.com to hire a professional assignment writer.

Professional academic writers: Our team is made up of seasoned academic writers who are aware of the regional academic requirements. They handle the caliber and particular specifications of your case studies, dissertation, or research paper.

Customized assignments: When you hire one of our experienced assignment helpers, the specialist develops a unique strategy to match the final product with particular guidelines.

Reasonably priced: We are a perfect team for you if you're searching for a Canadian online assignment help expert at a low cost without sacrificing quality! We provide packages at a fair price since we recognize how important money is to students.

Extensive research: We focus on the qualitative components of academic assignments and investigate the topic in great detail. We have qualified assignment writers on workers, as well as subject matter experts who conduct thorough research and offer insightful commentary.

Every topic covered: For all subject areas, we offer thorough assignment writing services. We serve students in every field and academic level, from engineering to business studies, literature, and economics.

[jacaboram18]

Navigating the Internship Journey: A Student's Path to Real-World Experience

Internships serve as a crucial bridge between academic learning and real-world application, offering students invaluable opportunities to gain hands-on experience in their chosen fields. For many, securing and maximizing an internship can significantly impact their future career trajectory. Here’s a comprehensive guide for students embarking on this pivotal journey.

Understanding the Purpose of an Internship: Internships are immersive learning experiences designed to provide students with practical exposure to their field of study. They offer the chance to apply classroom knowledge to real-world scenarios, develop industry-specific skills, and explore career paths.

Identifying Personal Goals and Objectives: Before embarking on an internship search, it’s essential for students to define their goals and objectives. Clarifying what they aim to learn, achieve, and experience during the internship helps in aligning their choices with their career aspirations.

Researching and Identifying Opportunities: Extensive research is key to finding the right internship. Students should explore various avenues, including online job boards, career fairs, company websites, and networking events. Identifying organizations that align with their interests and values enhances the chances of a fulfilling internship experience.

Crafting an Impressive Application: A well-crafted resume and cover letter tailored to the internship role significantly increase the chances of being noticed by prospective employers. Highlighting relevant skills, academic achievements, and extracurricular activities can make a candidate stand out.

Preparation for Interviews and Networking: Once shortlisted, preparation for interviews is crucial. Researching the company, practicing interview questions, and showcasing enthusiasm for the role can leave a positive impression. Additionally, networking with professionals in the industry can open doors to internship opportunities.

Making the Most of the Internship Experience: During the internship, students should approach it with a proactive mindset. Engaging actively, asking questions, seeking mentorship, and volunteering for diverse tasks can maximize the learning experience. Building relationships with colleagues and supervisors also contributes to a valuable network.

Learning from Challenges and Feedback: Internships might present challenges, but they also offer valuable learning experiences. Embracing challenges and seeking feedback constructively can foster personal and professional growth. It’s an opportunity to learn from mistakes and improve continuously.

Networking and Securing Future Opportunities: Networking within the organization and industry is vital. Building strong professional relationships can lead to future job opportunities or recommendations. A positive impression can pave the way for potential employment upon completion of studies.

Reflecting and Leveraging the Experience: After the internship, reflecting on the experience is crucial. Documenting key learnings, achievements, and challenges helps in understanding one’s growth. Leveraging the experience in future interviews and applications showcases practical skills gained during the internship.

Giving Back and Staying Connected: Expressing gratitude and staying connected with the organization or supervisor post-internship through follow-up emails or occasional check-ins helps in maintaining relationships and potentially accessing future opportunities.

Read More About – Assignment Canada

In essence, internships offer a gateway to practical learning, professional growth, and career exploration. When approached with diligence, enthusiasm, and a willingness to learn, they can be transformative experiences that pave the way for a successful career journey.

[naogardunoyou]

AUAGAGAHHSNG MHLRKG S SKJGJS. H G ALMS G. H H H H S. X C

[onlineexamhelpers-tutor]

[cybertron-after-dark]

Average transformers g1 episode:

Megatron is attempting to black out the entire sky across a hundred mile radius and funnel all the sunlight into one, concentrated solar death ray to target a heavy duty solar panel he's having soundwave and the cassetticons build in order to convert it to energon. Then he plans to hit the autobot base with the death ray just for funsies. Starscream plans to push Megatron directly into the death ray, also just for funsies.

Optimus sends Wheeljack and Spike to deal with it, along with two bots you're pretty sure have not been in this show before this point, but you're kind of past asking how many of these fuckers were on the ark offscreen when it crashed. One of them has the worst fake Canadian accent you have ever heard, and the other's name sounds inexplicably dirty.

Starscream tries to get Megatron to stand in the spot he told Skywarp and Ramjet to direct the death ray, but is interrupted when Rumble asks why Starscream stuck him with extra work (a task Megatron assigned specifically to Starscream). This vexes Megatron. The autobots show up and try to figure out what the point of the blacked out sky is while Starscream attempts to talk his way out of it. Then the death ray goes off two feet away from Megatron, which only pisses him off further.

The Canadian bot yells "AH BINARY-BEAVERS!!" because the death ray caught him off guard and completely gives away the bots' position. Soundwave immediately fires on them. Gratuitous robot violence ensues. Spike is generally useless and tries chucking rocks at Rumble. Megatron is too busy trying to almost-murder Starscream to bother with the autobots and just lets Soundwave handle it.

Probably-an-innuendo-name-bot is luckily a flier and takes the chance to see what's blocking the sun now that their cover's blown anyway. He gets up there and the seekers are sticking tinfoil on the clouds to make the tops reflective. The writers are really just hoping you don't think too hard about it.

Skywarp starts firing on dirty-name and calls him a nerd. Dirty-name takes evasive action. Skywarp runs out of ammo and starts just chucking tin foil at him. Dirty-name calls him dumb and says his processor is made of spare toaster parts. Then he crash lands and canada-bot asks if dirty-name's wings are spare toaster parts as well. Wheeljack yells that they'll all be spare toaster parts if they don't focus on the decepticons. The death ray goes off again and barely misses the autobots. Wheeljack corrects himself to Melted spare toaster parts.

Dirty-name gives Wheeljack the rundown on the tinfoil clouds so he can figure out a way to get rid of them while Canada-bot fights Soundwave and the cassettes in the background. Spike is kind of helping too sort of almost. Those rocks hes chucking sure are damaging. Ravage gets straight up drop kicked. It cuts back to Wheeljack whipping up a good old fashioned Device™️.

Starscream flies up past the tinfoil barrier while Megatron shoots at him. All the holes he's shooting in the blackout barrier are just making more, slightly shittier death rays and the main one is losing concentration. One of them hits Megatron right in the optic and he keels over with an over the top screech. Starscream descends, breaking another hole in the tinfoil to see a golden opportunity.

"MEGATRON HAS BEEN BLINDED!!! I, STARSCREAM AM NOW YOUR LEADER!!!"

Wheeljack finishes his Device™️: A grenade that makes tinfoil entirely invisible, thus rendering the whole weapon unusable. The writers are hungover, please do not think about it too hard. Pretty please. Dirty-name doesn't know if he can throw it into one of the holes in the barrier on his own since he can't fly in robot mode and he cant throw in altmode. Spike offers to get on his back and throw it in for him if he can get close enough. And he's just SO good at throwing things. The other two agree he's their best shot, they're so happy spike is around, couldn't do it without him.

Starscream is hovering in the air as he gives his Decepticon Leader Acceptance Speech he's prepared for this very occasion, golden light streaming in from the him-shaped hole in the barrier. Dirty-name and spike zip past him and spike makes the best goddamn throw of his life. Before starscream can properly question the Fucking Audacity of these autobots interrupting him while he's trying to have a moment, the invisible explosion goes off that the animators are just happy they don't have to put that much effort into drawing. Starscream gets knocked out of the air and crashes directly onto Megatron. This vexes Megatron.

Sky's normal again. Don't worry that there's still tinfoil there, don't even fuckin worry about it dude. Spike and Dirty-name touch back down. Round of applause for spike for throwing super good. Wheeljack comments that he's just happy it blew up the way it was supposed to. Cue uncomfortably long laughing. Megatron manages to roll starscream off him and calls for a retreat.

Back at the decepticon base, Megatron has an eyepatch and is skulking. Starscream yaps about how it makes him look like a proper tyrant, brooding and battle scarred, and, dare he say, darkly handsome? This vexes Megatron.

[moeitsu]

Explaining the James Logan Howlett (Wolverine) Lore for the new fans :)

I made this as a little cheat sheet for all the new Logan/Wolverine fans, in case you’ve never seen the movies or read the comics. Hopefully it’ll help with your fanfics and understanding his character better <3

Logan is my favorite of the Marvel superhero’s, and he and I go way back….so far back that my Dad dressed up as Wolverine and I as Rogue for Halloween in 2006. So he holds a very special place in my heart.

Lore - Part 2  Wolverine Comics

If you’ve seen X-men Origins: Wolverine, I hate to break it to you, but that backstory is not canon to the X-men universe. The later movies really screwed up the timeline. So the information here is strictly from the comics.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Pre-Adamantium Binding:

His real name is James Howlett, ‘Logan’ is later used as an alias to distance himself from his past.

He was born sometime around 1880, in Alberta Canada.

He is the illegitimate son of Elizabeth Howlett and Thomas Logan. He grew up on the Howlett estate and believed John Howlett was his real father.

His mutant powers first appeared when he was a child. He has accelerated healing, heightened senses, and retractable bone claws.

The trigger was caused by Thomas Logan killing James Howlett. The overwhelming fear and anger made his power manifest, blinded with rage he kills Thomas.

As his biological father dies, he reveals to Logan that he is his true father. The event is deeply traumatizing, and Logan runs away from his family estate. His mother commits suicide shortly after.

Logan has a half brother known as Sabertooth (Victor Creed) who has similar powers to the Wolverine but is more ‘animalistic’

The details vary across the comics but the brothers are always seen as rivals. And often pitted against eachother.

Logan served in WWI, WWII, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War.

He also served in a Canadian military force known as ‘Department H’ that specialized in superhuman affairs. (This was after the experiment, I’ll go into more detail later)

Sometime before the Weapon X program: On Earth-616, Logan had a wife (Itsu) and son in Japan where he was training at the time. They were killed by the Winter Soldier (Bucky Barnes)

Weapon X Program - Adamantium Binding:

The Weapon X program was run by multiple people working in secret for the Canadian government. Originally beginning in 1845, their goal was to experiment on mutants and create their own super-soldiers.

Logan was deceived and manipulated into undergoing the Weapon X experiment. He did not consent to being a test subject.

For some reason the X-Men Origins movie makes it out to be that Logan willingly chose to undergo this process, only to later reveal that he was tricked into doing so.

Before being captured, he was still struggling with his identity, he was close to 100 years old at the time. His life was filled with violence and loss. Making him physically and mentally vulnerable.

He was a prime target for exploitation.

Part of the experiment was to completely erase his memories and replace them with false ones. This allowed them complete control over him.

This also made it difficult for him to recall how he ended up in the program to begin with.

I repeat: they completely wiped his memory. His whole identity was gone.

100 years of memories were gone.

The bonding process turned his entire skeleton and bone claws into indestructible metal.

Due to his regenerative nature, Logan was not given anesthetic or put under for the procedure. It was excruciatingly painful.

Logan worked as a mercenary for private military contractors. He took on these assignments without fully understanding their implications because of his fragmented memory.

Sometime later he became a member of X-Force, a private military unit (affiliated with the CIA) that dealt with incredibly violent operations.

The purpose of the project was to create an unstoppable killing machine. With their end goal being to erase his humanity all together. However Logan’s mental fortitude allowed him to resist the conditioning and make his escape before it was too late.

After escaping, Logan developed a mistrust with authority. And just people in general. He felt deeply betrayed by the Weapon X program. And he struggles with the fear of being used as a weapon.

The escape and aftermath of Weapon X:

After everything Logan went through, the intense trauma and confusion significantly impacted his actions and mindset.

He was left with extreme psychological damage, and behaved more as an animal than a man for the first few years of his freedom. Living in the wilderness of Canada.

Quite literally a feral man. He lost touch of his humanity. Embracing his animalistic abilities, turning him into an apex predator.

Logan has the ability to enter something called “Beserker Rage” which he becomes entirely driven by animalistic instinct. Turning him into an unstoppable force and exerting himself for very long periods of time.

Think of when you see him running on all fours…

Over time, Logan began to regain bits and pieces of his humanity. He was later discovered by Heather and James MacDonald Hudson who took him in and helped him recover physically and mentally.

(Logan actually fell in love with Heather, and James became his best friend. They were the closest thing he had to a family)

After he recovered, he was recruited by the Canadian governments ‘Department H’. They were responsible for a lot of his training and became a key member in Canada’s superhero team: Alpha Flight.

This is where he took on the code name “Wolverine”

His time with Alpha Flight was short lived. And soon he was approached by Charles Xavier, who was looking for mutants to join his X-Men. He recognized Logan’s potential and offered him a place on the team as well as the promise to help him regain his memory.

Logan accepted, and his time with the X-Men marked a critical and significant moment in his life. Under Xavier’s guidance he was able to rebuild his identity and gradually piece together his past. All while fighting for the rights of mutants.

Being part of the X-Men gave him a sense of purpose and direction. Although his main goal had always been to uncover what he had lost, which was himself. He still struggles with trust and relationships, but eventually forms strong bonds with the other X-men.

His past with Weapon X still haunts him. And he has vivid and terrible nightmares about what he had done and what was done to him.

I won’t go into detail about his time with the X-men because that varies a lot across the comics. Just know that he had a love-hate relationship with them, but he ultimately loved them in the end.

Some sad facts about Logan that actually haunt me:

Logan has outlived everyone he ever loved. Family, friends, even his own children. He is so so so lonely.

Immense amount of survivors guilt. He feels unworthy of the life he continues to live.

He suffers from chronic nightmares. Often waking up in a violent and panicked state.

Deep-seated fear of abandonment that goes all the way back to his early childhood. He isolates himself to protect himself from more pain.

Tons of self-loathing. He believes himself to be nothing more than a killer. He thinks he is unworthy of love and happiness.

In the “Old Man Logan” storyline, he is tricked into killing the entire X-Men team. This event haunts him for the rest of his life.

Logan had a long, unrequited love for Jean Gray. He has watched her die multiple times, and each time a piece of him dies with her. On one occasion, he even had to kill her himself.

When he succumbs to “beserker rage” he loses control of himself. And the aftermath horrifies him. He is even afraid of himself at times and one of the reasons why he distances himself from others.

Some happy/soft facts to make up for everything you just read:

Logan is incredibly fatherly at times, often taking younger mutants under his protection and guidance. He becomes a mentor to them and looks out for their well-being.

In one of the comics he takes a young girl (Jubilee) to the mall and followers her around carrying her bags. He loves doting on her and I find it so adorable.

He also teaches another mutant named Kitty how to dance.

In one mission he is tasked with taking care of an infant, Hope. And he is incredibly gentle and tender with her. Cradling her in his arms and being fiercely protective.

He has a deep love and connection with animals. Especially ones that have been mistreated or misunderstood.

Caring for an injured wolf, he nurses it back to health and releases it back into nature.

He also adopts a stray, abused dog at one point.

In one of the timelines, he funded and ran the ‘Jean Gray School for Higher Learning’ He was the headmaster, and was dedicated to protecting and teaching young mutants.

In one scene he literally makes pancakes for all the students. I love him so much.

His relationship with Nightcrawler (Kurt Wagner) is very brotherly. They share alot of respect and understanding for each other, and Nightcrawler often serves as Logan’s moral compass.

His happiest memories are when he was training in Japan. And he has a deep appreciation and admiration for the culture. Taking on the samurai code of honor, and respecting its discipline and humility.

His entire relationship with Laura Kinney (X-23). Essentially his daughter. Taking on a father-figure role for her.

In one of the comics he organizes a birthday party for her, knowing she never had one. He goes all out and it shows just how much he loves her.

Logan has a great sense of humor. Often dry and sardonic, he’s known for his quick wit and playful banter. Which adds a layer of warmth to his otherwise tough persona.

He is very fond of life’s simple pleasures. Which reflects his inner desire for peace and normalcy. He values the little things that make life enjoyable.

His numerous acts of kindness towards strangers. Logan is compassionate at heart.

He doesn’t comfort others with his words, but rather his presence. Logan has a very unique understanding of grief and tries to give others relief in knowing they aren’t alone.

WOW okay I wrote way too much. Tbh I actually cut a ton out of this but if anybody wants a part 2 I’d be happy to share more. Shoutout to my brother for helping me source all this with his comics lol.

If you read all this, you’re a real one. And I’m so glad we’re all witnessing the Logan Howlett Renaissance

[teaboot]

I agree! This made me have a completely separate but related thought. I hope it's okay that I share it with you and I'm definitely open to disagreements and other ways of looking at it!

I look back at the original "the curtains are just blue" meme and find the process of what it morphed into really interesting. Originally, the meme was expressing the frustration of American (and in my experience, Canadian as well) highschool asking you to examine the themes of writing without really being giving you the tools to do so. We're told what a metaphor (and the metaphor's cousins, like similies) is and how to use it, but we weren't taught about the principles of examining themes. In my english class, we were given a handful of assignments that surrounded analyzing surface level themes, but no projects that really delve into it. The student has no idea how you know when something is symbolism or when it's just a description, how a single object can be symbolic of completely different things depending on the context and characters interacting with it, etc. The student doesn't know that they don't delve deeper into this stuff because school boards are largely driven by industrialists who want school to be about preparing you to work and don't find things like media analysis nessecary, so of course it feels like the teacher is just asking you to do the impossible task of reading the author's mind.

But then, the "the curtains are just blue" meme kinda blew up and morphed into the version of the meme that you were (rightfully) complaining about (for lack of better words). It became very in-line with the views of the industrialists that (one could argue) caused the meme in the first place. Or atleast, caused the problem that inspired the meme. It became this idea that analyzing literature is boring, unnecessary, and does nothing to help you learn what's really important. A weird kind of cycle, yeah?

I'd like to do more research on this, but I really struggle to understand academic papers and stuff like that. I just think it's neat! Do you also think it's neat?

YES!

[local-new-kid-super]

Little things the Raccoon and Friends Squad do for a New Kid!Reader during and after a battle.

Raccoon:

☆ Shares food with you mid-battle, even his beloved honey-soaked sopapilla. He's pretty selfish on the field (as with everything else), so he doesn't share with anyone else. Expect the rest of the team to get pissy he's not sharing with them.

"Fatass, Captain Diabetes is literally collapsing, give him some fucking food!"

☆ Checks on you first after the battle, trying not to seem like he cares too much, but he's even willing to 'shed' his claws off for a moment because it's next to inpossible to bandage you up with them.

"The fuck?" He snaps, struggling to open up a band-aid pack with his sharp digits. "Fuckin' shitty Terrance and Phillip band-aids, these Canadians don't know anything about battle, New Kid."

Captain Diabetes:

☆ Stays right by your side, often in front of you. Most of his attacks are head-on, and he can take quite a few kid. Sweet Scott is more than willing to take a few hits for one of the few members of the franchise who are kind to him.

"Not to fear, new kid! No hits to tough for the power of diabetes!"

☆ Always asks for you to 'sidekick' for him. He loved being by your side when Cartman first had you partner up with him after joining the franchise. His desire to have a sidekick is a mix of it making him feel like a real, respected member of the franchise, and a slight fear if you hang out with the others, you'll realize he's kinda lame in comparison to guys like Raccoon, or heaven forbid you switch teams and meet Mysterion.

"New Kid, hey! Listen, if Raccoon assigns us partners today, will you be mine? I've even got some super snacks for us to share!"

Human Kite:

☆ Kite's always willing to provide aerial support, or pick you up to help you avoid an enemies attack. This of course pisses of Raccoon, who just gets laughed at when he takes a hit.

"Ey! Kite, you fucking traitor jew, save me! I'm the fucking leader!"

"Shut up, I couldn't lift your fatass if I wanted to! Hop on my back, New Kid."

"Ey!"

☆ He's got a bunch of little home remedies his mom gives him when he goes out to 'play', and even some packed food. After a battle, he's more than happy to plop down on the curb with you and laugh at Cartman crying post-battle.

"My mom made her special stew if you want some, it's cold as balls out here..."

Mosquito:

☆ To be honest, Mosquito can't do a whole lot to help himself, much less you, but he's gonna try and show off, just for you. Whether it means flying in and draining some enemy blood, or even taking a hit to the head because he's too busy flexing his barely visible arm muscles.

"Check it out, New Kid! I'm getting pretty ripped, bzz bzz!" He immediately gets clocked by an enemy, but please don't make fun of him crying 😥

☆ After battle, he's in charge of hydration, so he'll go around and hand out water bottles, and 'blood' for himself, which you've come to realize is kool-aid powder in sprite. He'll give you your water bottle, and hope you won't poke fun at his streaky tear marks and wobbling lip.

"H-heres a bottle, drink up for... for strength, bzz bzzzzzz." He's outright sobbing now.

Fastpass:

☆ Fastpass makes sure to crack extra jokes when you're hanging around, throwing away his respect for comedic timing to slip in a one-liner after every. Single. Hit.

"C-consider t-t-this ass-kicking e-expedited!"

"Did someone o-order t-this fist with s-s-same day delivery?"

☆ Fastpass is pretty much ready to take off after a successful fight, especially if it's the end of his patrol. Hop on his back, and he'll take you somewhere cooler than this storage facility you just whipped Prof. Chaos's ass in.

"L-lets go! I've g-got a coupon for City Wok, and I've got some post fight mu-mu-munchies!"

Super Craig:

☆ He's not really enthusiastic during battle, so if you get injured or knocked out, then he'll step in and fuck up the opposition. Otherwise, he's more than willing to ditch mid-battle and go doing something more interesting.

"This fucking sucks, new kid. Let's go get a slushy."

☆ He knows fighting can be pretty stressful from when he used to battle alongside Tweek, before the whole Freedom Pals incident, so he's happy to take you back to his house to distress with him and Stripe.

"Don't worry, Stripe. Me and the New Kid really showed those assholes not to mess with Raccoon and Friends. Now, give him a carrot new kid, he makes this real funny squeak..."

[flemingsfreckles]

Kind of a Big Deal

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Synopsis: Jessie is humble, sometimes way too humble, as her new girlfriend it starts a fight when she fails to tell you important details about her career.

WC: 1.7k

Warnings: language

A/N: 👋

“I’m not looking forward to moving out at the end of the year, it’s going to be just as crazy as moving in was. What day are you planning to leave? I was thinking two days after my last final.” Bored of studying you decide to strike up a conversation with Jessie.

“Oh, I actually will have to move out earlier, I won’t be here for the end of the year, I’ll be out of town.” She speaks, not looking up from the table where her work sat.

“Since when and to where? Back home?” You looked up from your assignment to look at the girl sitting across from you.

“I’ve known for a few days. And sort of? Canada for a bit and then Japan.” She keeps her eyes on her assignment as if her news of international travel weren’t a big deal.

“Japan?! Are you even allowed to travel? I thought things were still restricted.” It was still a weird time, various restrictions on travel, some places allowing it, others not, your girlfriend had been relatively cautious with all the restrictions so you were surprised to hear of her plans.

“Well it’s like an organized thing for soccer.” She finally looks up from what she’s doing, giving a shrug as if the trip isn’t a big deal, just a standard trip for training. So you don’t bother to question her anymore.

“Oh cool.” You say before returning your attention to the textbook in front of you.

You knew Jessie played soccer, she had invited you to a few games in the fall, early on in your friendship. But beyond seeing her play for UCLA, she was pretty tight lipped regarding her playing. You knew she traveled a lot to play but she didn’t talk much about it so you didn’t pry. It wasn’t really your place to pry before. You knew the girl was shy, you didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

The two of you had only just recently started dating, you had danced around your feelings for each other for months, finally you asked Jessie out formally just last week, making her your girlfriend that same night. So you didn’t feel like it was your place to demand to know the details of her trip just yet, maybe once you’d been together for a bit, you’d feel it appropriate to ask questions about her travel soccer adventures.

You shrugged off her news of traveling, you hadn’t expected her to leave school early but you’d be alright, already planning on doing long distance all summer. It wasn’t until late that night that you realized what Jessie meant when she had said she was going to Japan. You were scrolling through Instagram and noticed a post from UCLA soccer with your girlfriend’s face and the words Tokyo Bound and the Olympic rings.

Your jaw dropped. And it dropped further when you read the caption. “Now a Two-Time Olympian! Congratulations to Jessie Fleming for being named to the Canadian Tokyo Olympic Roster.”

You couldn’t help but feel enraged at the post and at your girlfriend. You knew she was humble, but this was ridiculous. She had the opportunity to tell you this morning and she didn’t. You thought about calling her to give her a piece of your mind. Instead, thanks to college housing, you were able to slide off your bed and walk down the hall, down the stairs, to the floor your girlfriend lived on.

You knock hard on her door, her roommate and teammate Teagan answers. “Hi.”

“Jessie here?” You push past her after getting your answer, seeing your girlfriend’s head over the shoulder of Teagan. She’s sitting reading from a textbook. Hunched over her desk she didn’t see you coming up behind her. You close the book causing her to jump, turning around and pulling her headphones off to look at you.

Her initial reaction of fright is replaced with a big smile when she sees your face. “Hi!”

She clearly doesn’t read your bothered expression, joyfully greeting you. “You’re a fucking two time Olympian?!” You gently shove her shoulders back when she stands to hug you.

“And on that note, I’m going to go.” You hear Teagan say behind you before the door closes. Jessie doesn’t attempt to speak, she just looks at you.

It was one thing for her not to tell you, but now not answering you was making you even more angry. “Answer me!”

“Technically only one time Olympian, I haven’t gone to them this year yet.” She says, a sheepish look on her face. Her eyes shifted uncomfortably across the room.

“Oh my god!” Of course your perfectionist girlfriend wanted to take this moment to correct your thought process. “Why didn’t I know this? We’re dating!”

“It’s not that big of a deal. Teagan is one too.” She looks over to her roommates half of the room.

“I fucking knew Teagan was, she’s got the damn rings tattooed on her arm, and yes it is a big deal!” You let out a puff of air, frustrated by her behavior. “You have got to stop being so fucking humble, clearly you’re fucking good at soccer, it’s okay to admit that, it’s okay to own that.”

“Okay.”

“No, I’m serious Jessie because I don’t want to learn these things from Instagram! I want you to tell me. I want you to want to tell me, I’m your girlfriend for fucks sake! I already had to learn that you got All Team recognition for last season through Instagram because you didn’t tell me, and I know we weren’t dating then but we were friends! I had to learn through Instagram when you score at games I’m not able to attend because you’re too humble to gloat about yourself! It’s fucking ridiculous!

Jessie’s quiet, she blinks a few times at you, you stand there, waiting for her to say something, anything.

“Nothing? You don’t have anything to say?” Jessie’s habit of choosing silence during arguments and uncomfortable conversations getting on your nerves.

“I’m sorry?” She offers, but it sounds more like she’s guessing for what you want to hear.

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it. It feels pretty shitty to know your girlfriend doesn’t want to talk about her achievements to you.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s just I’ve always been told even as a kid there’s someone better than me, I was taught not to gloat, it’s arrogant, and I know I shouldn’t bring her up but my previous ex never wanted to hear about it, she didn’t get called up to her national team as often as I did with Canada, when I’d mention something I was proud of she’d make smart comments or tell me off for ‘being a show off’, she started a huge argument with me when I signed to come play in college. All my life I’ve been told to not share those things, honestly I don’t know how. I also kind of figured you knew I played internationally.”

“How would I just know that?!” You’re not sure how you’d know any of these things without the woman telling you.

“Half of my wardrobe is Canada shirts and pants. And I don’t know, someone who plays soccer casually doesn’t travel to other countries!” She points to the sweatpants she’s currently wearing, they’re light gray with the country name and a maple leaf on the left leg.

“I just thought you really liked your country and I don’t know I’m not a sports person, you know that, I didn’t know traveling is specific to being a professional athlete.” You shrug at her, you do realize how silly it was to assume she was just a big fan of the country, but how were you supposed to know?

“To be fair you’ve never asked, I assumed you didn’t care.” She looks everywhere in the room except at your face.

“I do care Jessie! You’re just so tight-lipped, anytime I ask about soccer, if you did well, how your games were, if training was good, I get a short answer and you move on, you never bring up if you score, if you win, nothing, I always have to ask and it makes me feel like you don’t want me asking so I don’t!” You’re trying to defend your own thought process, it wasn’t like you intentionally didn’t ask Jessie, you just thought she didn’t want to tell you, so you didn’t ask.

Jessie just sits down, slumping back into her chair. “I’m sorry, I really am.”

You squat down to look at her face, she’s visibly upset, eyes glossy, lower lip being bit hard by her teeth. “Hey.” You grab her chin softly between your thumb and index finger, encouraging her to look at you. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for yelling, I just, I want to know these things, I want you to brag to me, I want to be able to brag about you, but to do that I need to know these things. I’d much rather learn you’re going to the Olympics, for the second time, from you and not some Instagram post. Does that make sense?”

She nods into your hand.

“I will never, not want to hear about your achievements. If it helps, I’ll ask more questions, but you’ll have to give me full answers to those questions. We can meet in the middle, okay?”

“Okay.” She gives you a soft smile.

“Okay.” You bend down your hand still on her chin, giving her a quick peck to her lips.

“So… you’re like, kind of a big deal then, aren’t you? My girlfriend’s an Olympian.” A smirk comes across your face, teasing your girlfriend.

She pulls her chin from your grasp and turns away trying to hide the growing blush on her cheeks. “Shut up.”

[riflesniper]

spent enough time cooking up this guy behind the scenes and now i feel like i can toss him out here now. this big boy is aegis :3 a sapient mech that ran from his makers to a resistance militia, who plopped a gay little pilot (green) into his hands. more details below the cut

patreon | commissions

his storyline takes place a few centuries in the future, where a small-scale war has kicked up between a newly socialist canada and a dystopian oligarchical US. aegis comes from a particularly powerful corporation called valkyrie machines, who definitely pioneered sapient AI tech some hundred years prior and definitely didn't just steal the tech from somewhere else before stealthily bribing the actual inventors into a silence or death deal

on the other side of the border is the canadian shield alliance, though most people just call it the alliance or the shield. they've played a lot of roles since their inception that was also some hundred years prior, notably aid programs, disaster assistance, fighting for land back/secure human rights/immigrant protections, scaring corporations into NOT being shitty, better economic policies, etc.

unfortunately the US did NOT like any of that. when canada's economic system is officially changed from mixed to socialist, the oligarchs of the states kick off a race to try and see who can annex it the fastest. fortunately, the shield doesn't give them an inch.

aegis is one of valkyrie's newer warden models; nimble, fleet-footed mechs with sapient AI cores to enhance battle prowess. valkyrie is Very strict about what their mechs and pilots do and don't know, and are not above both executing pilots who try to rebel and wiping AIs whose thoughts stray too far. aegis and his last pilot were able to keep sneaky about their plans to escape, but said pilot was disposed of before it could be carried out, aegis made a break for it on his own, racing from the montana base he was stationed at to the albertan border.

despite broadcasting a plea for the shield to find him, he didn't get out unharmed; valkyrie's air fighters were eventually able to catch up to him before he scaled the wall. they plucked at him for a couple hundred kliks until the shield managed to find him near a small town. a skirmish broke out to claim him, ending with one shield mech being non-fatally damaged and all of the valkyrie fighters being shot down.

aegis, battered from the run, was hoisted to a shield base near calgary for major repairs before being shipped to the edmonton for external repairs and retrofitting. it's here that he's assigned a new pilot; green reinhart, a skilled, kind man with a underlying justice-driven rage to match the heart on his sleeve. a man who would not be killed so easily, not with the transhuman tech that's available. it's here that aegis would actually get his name, and so much more that he never would have had back in the states.

the world was opening up to him now. his pilot wasn't the only one talking to him like he was a person anymore. green gets him a proxy frame to explore with. the two of them spend hours together, on and off the field; perhaps this is the best thing that's could've happened for either of them.

(first image is when they've already been partners for a long while; green's organic body does eventually get killed in a battle, and his transhuman body is activated. im still kinda fleshing out the details, unsure if i'll get much deeper into the socio-political-economic shitshow behind the worldbuilding, since i originally made this guy to just have a gay mech/pilot thing w/ green, but its kinda feeding off the current shitshow of the US wanting to annex canada in this day and age. i gotta focus more of that energy on makin characters WAUGH

if anyones got suggestions for like. videos or audiobooks that Could help add onto the worldbuilding though, im all ears. just keep in mind that i struggle with text only stuff, so audiovisual is heavily preferred)

[radawaycunt]

The Black Kaiser's Nightmare

Duncan Vizla x Assassin!FemReader

A/N: Shout out to beelmons and G for their endless support and help with my fics <3 :') where would I be without y'all?

Summary: You run into your long-time nemesis in the last place you ever expected, but things take a turn for the worst when you find yourself stuck with him during a snowstorm.

WC: 7.2k words

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), enemies to lovers speedrun into the bed, mentions and depictions of violence, fighting, accidental assassination of a third party, some serious bickering, abundant cursing, rough sex (unprotected, don't do it at home!), choking, very light knifeplay, dirty talk, slight degradation mixed with some praise, rampant sexual tension, ooey gooey lovesick fools who are just SO SO STUBBORN, I think that's it but lmk if I missed anything!

You are responsible for your own media consumption!

----

Triple Oak, Montana.

It’d been a while since you’d last found yourself in such a quaint little town, especially in the middle of winter, but you supposed you’d been in way worse places. It was barely even on the map, which made it a convenient place to lay low. 

You didn’t have to worry about interacting with many people, and you sure as hell didn’t think you’d encounter anyone you knew. At least for the time being, you felt like you could relax just a little bit while you made plans.

In a few more days, you’d continue driving north and cross the Canadian border into Saskatchewan, where you were meant to carry out your next assignment. Your target was a skeevy arms dealer that had to move his whole operation out of Serbia and was now shacked up somewhere in the vast prairies. 

You’d been tracking his activity for some time, slowly narrowing down the list of possible locations. You’d also scored some insider information about a big upcoming transaction with a terrorist cell, and your goal was to get to him before the sale was finalized.

Successfully eliminating him would pay handsomely, and you were already planning on a months-long vacation in which you’d go fully off the radar. Preferably somewhere by the beach, where you didn’t feel the constant threat of frostbite.

You pulled into a small gas station — the only one to be found in a long stretch of the highway between the town and more secluded cabins  — and occupied one of the three measly pumps. There was only one other old pickup truck next to you, but the owner was nowhere to be seen. 

You blew hot air into your hands as you walked into the convenience store, eager for some coffee despite how shitty it was. 

“Hey Lou,” you said to the now familiar attendant, the little bell above the door ringing as you pushed in. “How’s it goin’?”

“Eh, slow, the usual,” he shrugged. “At least it’s decently warm in ‘ere. They say there’s gonna be a snowstorm over the weekend, starting tonight.”

“Shit, really?” You groaned, not only because you loathed the freezing temperatures, but because it would set you back by a few more days. 

“Yup, perfect time to cozy up with the missus back at home.”

You poured yourself a large cup of black coffee and snapped the lid on top. On the way back to the register, you grabbed a couple of magazines and a pack of Ding-Dongs to eat on the road.

“Well, lucky you,” you said, putting everything on the counter. “I gotta find ways to keep myself busy and warm in case I lose power.”

As you spoke, the door to the restroom opened behind you and a tall, rugged-looking man stepped out. His eyes instinctively flickered between the two of you, even if he couldn’t see your face. He lingered close to the back, trying not to bring attention to himself.

“You sure you’ll be good all by yourself out there?” Lou asked. “Enough supplies and all?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself,” you said, fishing cash out of your wallet. “Give me thirty on number two, also.”

“You got it, tough gal.”

You chuckled as he rang you up, glancing outside. The man behind you tensed, gripped with the dread that came with sudden recognition. Your voice was one he knew well, the very same one he’d heard all seventeen times he’d almost died. Well, eighteen if he counted that one brief altercation in Belfast.

And that laugh… How many times had it been directed at him? Taunting him, teasing him, driving him utterly mad. 

It was perhaps the only thing that stopped him from actually getting rid of you that one night you slept so soundly at some shoddy little hotel in Madrid.  He’d watched your chest's steady rise and fall from his spot in the darkness, and he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

And now he’d most likely have to pay for the consequences of his mercy. 

Lou looked over your shoulder at him, but you didn’t immediately notice since you were absently flipping through one of the magazines. 

“Need anything else, Duncan?” He offered. “Pack of Winstons?”

Your skin prickled at these two very familiar details, but you didn’t move, still staring down at the magazine without actually reading. It was probably a mere coincidence. Really, there had to be dozens of Duncans in the world that just so happened to smoke Winstons.

But then, a very particular smell reached your nose — cheap cologne you didn’t know the name of, with strikingly bitter notes that had flooded your nostrils when his hands were tightly wrapped around your neck.

You glanced up at the fisheye mirror above the register… and there he fucking was, in all his deadly glory. The Black Kaiser himself.

You couldn’t help an amused huff, especially after hearing the faintest rustle of a knife being unsheathed under his coat.

“Are you sure you want to stab me with that, old man?” You said slowly over your shoulder. 

“Less impersonal than a gun. I owe you that much, don’t I?” he said with that deep, gravelly voice of his that always made a stubborn tingle form at the base of your spine.

Your hand just barely inched towards the hidden holster of your gun. “Oh, but you know I get a little crazy when the knives come out.”

Lou looked between the two of you, confusion and a tinge of fear in his eyes. 

“Uh, you two know each oth—”

Before he could finish his sentence, you whirled around and shot Duncan’s head. He ducked, but not before hurling a large knife at you in return. You dove out of the way, hearing it whizz right past your ear, and it sank into Lou’s forehead with a wet thud. His body slumped behind the counter, blood spraying over the stuff you’d intended to buy.

“Hey!” You yelled from your hiding spot. “I didn’t even get my change back!”

“You’re not gonna need it anymore,” he said gruffly, his voice not too far from you. “But before that… want to tell me what the fuck you’re doing here?”

“I could ask you the same,” you said, glancing up at the fisheye mirror once more. 

Unfortunately for you, you couldn’t get a very good look at where he was, but you couldn’t stay put. You slowly began to inch to the end of the aisle, staying low. “Let me guess, you missed me so much these last three years that you decided to hunt me down.”

He scoffed. “Three years was not nearly long enough time away from you.”

You dove around the corner to the next aisle, but he wasn’t there. You started pulling yourself forward, but suddenly you were flipped onto your back. You were about to whip your gun around, but it was harshly knocked out of your grasp, sliding against the linoleum. You thrashed against the weight that pressed down on you, but he pinned your hands down beside your head. 

“Who sent you?” He asked. 

“No one sent me, you paranoid geezer!” You sneered, driving your knee up full force right into his crotch. “Not everything’s about you.”

He growled at the pain, swaying to the side, his grip on your hands relaxing. You pushed him off of you, scrambling to get to your gun. Right as you managed to get a hold of it, he was on you again, pulling you back by the legs. You tried twisting around all the way, firing another shot semi-blindly. It narrowly missed his shoulder, shattering one of the windows.

“Can’t kill me without paralyzing me, eh, little Nightmare?” He taunted.

“Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

You swallowed a scream as he stepped on the hand you held your weapon with, his heavy boot cracking your wrist. Your fingers splayed involuntarily due to the pain, and he bent down to take the gun. He kept it pointed at you as he removed his boot from your wrist and grabbed your arm.

“You’re coming with me,” he stated, starting to pull you up. 

“Like hell I am!” You spat, but you froze as you felt the barrel pressed against the back of your head.

“You were saying?”

He dragged you to your feet, leading you through the broken window, glass crunching under your boots. The wind seemed icier than it had been when you first arrived, which made you remember Lou’s warning about a snowstorm.

There was no way in hell you’d be stuck with him during it, so you’d have to find a way to weasel out of his grasp… and kill him in the process. 

He led you towards his truck, but you pretended to trip at the last second, bending down and retrieving a knife you had hidden in your boot. You stabbed backward, aiming for his femoral artery, but he moved and the knife stabbed into his thigh muscle instead.

“Motherfucker,” he hissed through clenched teeth, but he didn’t let go of you, tightening his grip on your arm. He fired off a warning shot into the air, which made you flinch a little. “Try me again and I won’t hesitate to put the next bullet through your thick fucking skull. I only have so much patience.”

He shoved you into the passenger seat of the truck, managing to tie you up with the seatbelt. Your bound hands were still slick with his blood, and you smiled triumphantly at him as he slid into the driver’s seat, immediately peeling out of the gas station.

“This is what gets you hard, isn’t it?” you said, raising an eyebrow at him. “You’re kind of a sick fuck, old man… but I didn’t expect any better from you.”

He said nothing, instead momentarily glaring at you. He grunted as he pulled the knife out of his leg, tossing it out of the window. You grumbled about him owing you a knife, but he continued to ignore you. He drove mostly in silence, winding through the icy roads as he gripped his wounded leg with one hand.

So far, it had been one of your tamest encounters. Really, it had all sort of felt like a game, but neither of you had won quite yet. After all, a game such as this could not be left unfinished.

Usually, the circumstances were vastly different. Your respective agencies had assigned you the same target a couple of times, and it always turned into a competition on who would finish the job first. As it turned out, the two of you were very competitive.

You’d left plenty of souvenirs on each other every single time you crossed paths – broken bones, an assortment of scars, and bruises as dark as the midnight sky. You wondered vaguely how much more damage you might make by the end of the day.

Why neither of you had succeeded in killing each other was… a bit of a mystery. Maybe he saw something in you that reminded him of himself, or perhaps he was growing soft with age. He would never admit it, but he’d had plenty of fun in this deadly dance with you so far, and it seemed a shame to let it come to its conclusion so soon. 

He’d have to do it though, after some thorough interrogation.

Soon enough, he pulled up a long gravel road hidden among the tall pine trees. In the clearing ahead, you saw what you supposed was his cabin. It was modestly sized and a little dilapidated, but at least it seemed to be sturdy enough to withstand harsh conditions.

“Nice place,” you said sarcastically. “I don’t suppose you have many visitors?”

“Rarely,” he said without looking at you. “I like the quiet. No one’s going to bother us here.”

“You mean no one’s gonna come running when you scream?”

He grunted, readjusting his position in his seat. You were mostly tied up at the arms so your legs had some room to move. Rookie mistake on his part, which you would definitely take advantage of. 

Before he could pull up in front of the actual cabin, you leaned back and kicked at the steering wheel. The truck swerved to the right, throwing you against the window. He tried to correct it on time, slamming on the brakes, but the snow made it careen right into a tree. 

It wasn’t a tremendous crash, but the windshield still broke, glass raining down on both of you. You were both disoriented for a moment from the whiplash, but then you began to untangle yourself from the seatbelt. You kicked at him when he tried to reach for you, but he managed to pin your legs down.

“Can’t you stay put for one fucking second!?” He growled, fully bracketing you between his sturdy legs as he freed you from the seatbelt. 

You panted heavily, trying to thrash beneath him, but he only pressed his legs tighter against your sides. A small, high-pitched whine escaped your lips as you felt the air being squeezed out of you, and you stopped moving. 

“Satis…fied?” You managed between gasps.

“Not nearly,” he said, grabbing a fistful of your hair as he pulled back. “Come here.”

He kept a firm grip on it as he dragged you out of the truck and towards the cabin. He wobbled a little with each step, his leg still bleeding some. 

“I warned you about the knives,” you said. “Even if you didn’t let me finish having fun.”

He chuckled sardonically. “No, you’re mistaken. The fun is only just beginning.”

He led you inside and locked the door behind him, making you sit down on a rickety chair. He bound your hands and feet with duct tape, wrapping some of it around your torso and the back of the chair for good measure. You decided not to struggle for the time being and instead ponder on your next move, covertly glancing at your surroundings for anything useful.

When Duncan was sure you wouldn’t be able to bolt, he went to grab something from an adjacent room, returning with his version of a first aid kit and a bottle of vodka. He looked at you from the corner of his eye as he undid his pants and lowered them to his knees.

“I didn’t realize it was that kind of fun,” you said, raising an eyebrow. 

Still, your gaze was drawn to his crotch first before trailing further down to the injury you’d caused. Rolling his eyes, he plopped down on the bed, which creaked a little under his weight. 

He took a long swig of vodka and then poured some on the bleeding gash, hissing through his teeth. Your expression of slight amusement didn’t change as he glanced at you once more, taking out a needle and thread.

“I have to be careful about infections, who knows where that knife of yours has been?” he said.

You merely watched as he began stitching himself up without so much as a grimace. His breathing was slow and steady as he concentrated, and you found yourself entranced by the precise movements of his hands.

An obscene thought about those hands wriggled into your mind, but you immediately pushed it away. It was all the more reason for you to get the hell out of there, especially now that his pants were down.

As he was finishing his stitches, you leaned forward onto your tiptoes and then threw yourself back as hard as you could. The chair broke apart under you, the force of the blow and the angle in which you fell spraining one of your wrists. The adrenaline made you barely register the pain, and you quickly wriggled out of the tape wrapped around you.

You pulled a Swiss army knife out of your boot and hastily sawed off the tape binding your ankles. He swore as you stood, lifting your arms and slamming them down to free your hands. You stumbled towards the front door and yanked it open.

Outside, the wind howled ferociously and a thick flurry of snow limited your vision of your surroundings. You felt the unforgiving cold slicing through you as you hesitated, knowing deep down that your chances of survival were very slim. 

Still, you were reckless enough to try and brave it. You started towards the steps when you were yanked back once more, your back pinned against the wall and Duncan’s hand around your throat.

“You just don’t fucking learn, do you?” He growled. 

“You only caught me because I hesitated, old man.”

His grip tightened a little in warning. “Didn’t anybody teach you never to hesitate?”

“There is a very fine line between foolishness and courage, you know…” The corners of your mouth twitched, an amused gleam in your eye. “I wonder how often you cross from one side to the other.”

He clenched his teeth and an absolutely devious, cheshire cat grin spread across your face. The mere sight of it made his blood boil with both rage and arousal, and he felt it flowing southward. Your back instinctually arched towards him, as if you could somehow sense the sudden influx of violent desire, and became infected by it.

You stared at each other for a charged moment before he suddenly fell upon you, intent on devouring you. His lips clashed with yours in a fierce kiss and you buried your fingers in his hair, tugging at it as you retaliated.

You bit his lower lip hard, making him groan into your mouth. You used this opportunity to slide your tongue against his, and he moved the hand that had been around your neck toward your jaw. Without thinking, you pressed harder against him, your fingers about to slide under the hem of his sweater.

He clasped your wrist to stop you, assuming you were reaching for some hidden weapon. You whimpered slightly, painfully reminded that it was in fact sprained. He pulled back to look at you, both of you panting heavily and still clutching each other tightly. 

“I fear that line was blurred a long time ago, and I suspect it’s the same case with you,” He murmured. 

His words broke through your daze and you immediately pushed him away from you, cradling your injured hand against your chest. A maelstrom of emotions roiled inside of you, predominantly confusion and a worrisome throb between your legs. 

“And what now?” You asked, glancing out of the window. “It’s clear neither of us are going anywhere any time soon.”

“Now we weather the storm,” he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“No, seriously.”

“I am being serious.”

You huffed in annoyance, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I… can’t believe I’m asking this right now but, maybe we can… put the killing each other thing on hold for a few days?”

“So you were coming for me.”

“No! I wasn’t!” You threw your hands up exasperatedly. “Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but I have work further up north. This was just a pit stop.”

He assessed you for a moment, trying to find any clues that you were lying. You stood your ground, keeping your eyes on his face. He sniffed, leaning against the wall to get his weight off his injured leg. 

“I’m fine with a temporary truce, but only if we both keep our weapons in plain sight at all times.”

“I am a weapon myself, big boy.”

“So am I. I suppose we’ll have to keep an eye on each other as well, then.”

“Fine,” you huffed, stomping to the couch and pulling it over to the kitchen. “I’ll stay on this side of the cabin, you can stay on the other side.”

“What!? This is my house!” He scoffed.

“Yeah, well, I’m being generous by letting you keep your bed. Not to mention, your life.”

He rolled his eyes, limping back over to his bed. “Whatever you say. Now, can I please fix my stitches in peace for one fucking second?”

———————

There was no sleep for the entirety of the first night. 

The cabin creaked and groaned, straining against the disastrously strong wind. Your breaths fogged up in the air as you shivered under the thin blanket Duncan had given you. The cold seemed to seep into your very bones as if punishing you for your decisions. To distract yourself from the chill, you kept an eye on his prone form across the room, knowing well he wasn’t sleeping either. 

When dawn broke, a thin grayish light filtered into the room. The storm raged on and all you wanted to do was doze off, but you were still on edge. You clenched your jaw to keep your teeth from chattering, irritated by a headache. Your mood didn’t get any better when Duncan rose from his bed, crossing towards the kitchen.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You inquired, not moving an inch.

He stopped in his tracks. “I’m hungry. Don’t you want to eat?” 

Your stomach growled in answer and he lifted an eyebrow in slight amusement. You unwillingly threw the blanket off of you, getting up with an annoyed grunt. 

“I’ll give you the food. Let’s see what you’ve got,” you said, rummaging through the cabinets.

“I could just show you…”

“No, stay on your side. Even better, why don’t you go sit back down on your bed?”

He followed orders, not really wanting to start quarreling with you so early in the morning. You finally found some oatmeal packets in one of the cupboards, and you took out a few and poured them into a pot along with some water. You left it to boil over the stove top, crossing your arms over your chest and turning to face him.

“How’s your leg doing, anyway?” You asked. 

“Fine. Why do you care?”

“I really don’t.”

He chuckled. “Good thing you’re a better assassin than you are a liar.”

You sighed deeply. “Well, it is your house, I should at least have some manners.”

He scoffed, still amused. “We are way past manners. Our only courtesy to each other would be a painless death.”

“Oh, really? Painless?” You arched an eyebrow. “Did you forget Lisbon? And that grenade launcher you stole?”

“Okay, well, I wasn’t technically aiming at you. You just happened to be in the way,” He argued. “And it’s not like you haven’t given me the same sort of treatment…”

You shrugged one shoulder. “It’s only fair.”

The two of you lapsed into silence as you turned your attention back to the pot. Once the oatmeal was ready, you spooned it into two bowls and walked to the invisible line that divided the cabin in two.

He got up and met you there, reaching slowly for his bowl so as not to seem threatening. Not that you were viewing him that way, anyway. At least not in the clearly exhausted state he was in. 

“Careful, it’s hot,” you said. “Need me to blow on it first?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, resisting the lure of your impish grin. He figured it was perhaps the more masochistic part of him that made him so drawn to you. Always pushing him, testing him, keeping him on the edge. He would never admit it to himself — much less to you — but it made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t for a really long time.

He muttered a quick thank you before heading back to his side of the room, plopping down on the bed and immediately digging in. If he burned his mouth, he showed no indication of it, but you still huffed in amusement. 

When he was done, he said nothing as he lied down, his back to you once again. A little confused and wary, you watched him as you slowly ate. Soon enough, his breath evened out into a steady rhythm, and you assumed he’d fallen asleep.

You glanced over at the dining table, where the two of you had laid out all your weapons, and considered them for a long moment. 

It seemed too easy to have such a window of opportunity. Normally, you’d have jumped at any such chance, but once more, you hesitated. Not out of any sort of newfound benevolence, but something deeper than that. Something that had been gnawing at you since the previous night.

In the end, you opted not to do anything. Surely, it was bound to be a mistake to not have killed him at that moment. But that would be a problem for another day, perhaps when the storm was over. 

You sat down on the floor by the foot of the couch, back resting against the frame. Sleep deprivation was starting to hit you as well, and you knew that if you were to lay down you would certainly fall asleep. Instead, your eyes focused on the suspiciously peaceful sight of Duncan sleeping. 

The longer you stared, the blurrier the lines seemed to get. Literally. His broad form was smudged into a single sphere, and without much thought about it, everything suddenly went black. 

Until… Shit. 

How long were you asleep?

It had been long since you’d last awakened to a man in front of you, let alone holding a knife to your face. The blade shone in your half-open eyes, reflecting the setting sun outside the window. You must have been unconscious for over two hours.  Stupid, so very stupid.

You blinked the haze of sleep out of your eyes and followed the glint to his fingers, his forearm, up his broad chest and shoulders, until it finally landed on his face. 

 “So, the game ends at last, huh?” you muttered, your gaze not wavering from his.

“Could’ve ended long ago, but it didn’t,” he said, once again looking every bit the coldhearted killer he was. You could still see, however, the presence of doubt in his dark eyes. “Why didn’t you kill me?” 

“I knew you weren’t actually sleeping…”

“Even so,” he pressed, straightening to his full, imposing height. “You didn’t even try. Why?”

You blinked, not really having an answer, not one that would satisfy him at least. What's more, you had a set of questions of your own, ones that would likely also have no answer. 

The words slipped before you could even think about them. “Why did you kiss me?” 

Silence hung between you like a heavy drape. You were cornered in more than one sense. Windows for precaution and escape had long since closed, maybe even since the moment you ran into him in that little gas station. And through hardships, you learned that if there’s no way back, the only way is forward. 

The wound in his thigh didn’t seem to bother him as much anymore, so there was no way you could outrun him. You looked down to avoid his scrutiny and he used the back of his knife to force your chin back up. 

He didn’t speak, but his eyes bore into yours, almost as if seeing through them into parts of you that were foreign even to yourself. The flat part of the blade trailed up to your cheek in what could be interpreted as a caress. 

Your hand unconsciously intended to return the favor, running up his knee to his thigh, extra cautious around his wound. You noticed a change of pattern in his breathing, and so you looked down only to find one of the answers you sought — the print of his hardened cock cruelly imprisoned within his pants. 

“Oh,” you breathed, surprised. Then again, when the reality of what you were looking at fully sank in. “Oh.”

Your hand moved on its own accord again, slowly slipping further up his thigh. Again, he tightly grabbed your wrist before your fingers reached their target, and you hissed in pain. He immediately let go, withdrawing the knife as well.

“Are you hurt?” He asked. 

“A sprained wrist isn’t gonna kill me,” you said, keeping your hand on his leg to drive your point across. “Now that, on the other hand, has to be taken care of.”

“Taken care of, huh?” He rasped, his voice hoarse with want and self-directed anger because of it. 

He raked a hand through your hair, gathering it in his first and pulling your head towards his crotch. He pressed your cheek against his bulge, his hips bucking ever so slightly. 

“And how do you suppose that’s gonna happen?” He added.

“I have a few ideas if you’re open to them,” you panted, ignited in a way that almost fully consumed you. 

His eyes searched your face for a moment, drinking you in as he searched for any indications of doubt, and then he whispered, “Are you sure?” 

This time you didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

He saw the feverish gleam of hunger in your eyes as he pulled away and unbuckled his belt, pushing down his pants. The outline of his cock was even more prominent through his briefs and you couldn’t help a sharp intake of breath at the sheer size of him. He was still holding onto your hair, stepping closer and effectively cornering you against the couch. 

You boldly started to reach for the hem of his briefs, but he said, “No. I want you to use your teeth.”

“Getting a little bold there, old man,” you said with a smirk, keeping your eyes on him as you dipped your head to plant a soft kiss on his thigh, right by his stitches. 

He winced slightly at the contact, but you could see his cock throb against the fabric covering it.  Your smirk only widened, “But I gotta admit I’m pretty impressed so far. Didn’t even have to slip a blue pill in your oatmeal.”

He gripped your jaw, clicking his tongue in disappointment. “I think you need more proof, actually. Allow me.”

With his free hand, he roughly tugged down his briefs and his cock finally sprang free — so thick and long and just fucking perfect — hitting his lower abdomen. The head of it glistened with precum, which he spread with his thumb. You shifted in your seat, biting your lip as saliva flooded your mouth.

“Open,” he ordered.

You immediately complied, wondering when the fuck you’d gotten so obedient. He gripped the base of it and fed it into your mouth slowly. You wrapped your lips around it, feeling it slide smoothly against your tongue. 

A small groan escaped him, his head tipped back at the first rush of pleasure. You hummed a little in response and he felt the vibration of the sound against his shaft. His hips began to move again, shuttling his length deeper into your mouth, until you could feel the head of it reach your throat.

He let you steady yourself by placing your hands on his legs, his hand returning to the back of your head as it bobbed up and down. Then suddenly, when you’d reached the very base, he kept your head down. Your nose was against his pelvis, your deep, even breaths fanning against the fine hair that curled there. 

Your nails dug into the flesh of his legs as you staved off your gag reflex as best as you could. Still, you couldn’t help but squirm a little, already pretty slick between your thighs.

 He cursed under his breath as he let you come up for air, an obscene string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip of his cock.

"If I knew you were such a cock drunk slut, I would have dropped my pants much earlier just to shut you up,” he said with a smug grin, looking down at you.

“More bold words from someone who’s only gonna last this round. I’m gonna have to take care of myself after you’re done,” you taunted lightly, making him pull at your hair.

You kept eye contact with him as you stuck your tongue out and traced it over a large vein on the underside of his shaft. You left a trail of wet, sloppy kisses as you made your way back to the tip, and he lightly slapped it against your tongue a couple of times before pushing your head back down on it. His balls tightened momentarily as he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, and you knew he was enjoying himself much more than he let on.

"Well, if it's gonna be only one, might as well make good use of it, don't you think?" He said, pulling you off of him and making you stand up.

His lips were on yours in the next moment, just as desperate and hungry as the first kiss. He kicked his pants off the rest of the way and yanked your sweater off along with your thermal undershirt. He reached for your pants, but you slapped his hand away, extricating yourself from his lips to undo them yourself.

As soon as they were off, he turned you around and bent you over the back of the couch. There was a wet spot in your underwear that made him smirk, but he also couldn’t deny the way his cock throbbed at the sight.

“This is in the way…” he grunted, tugging at your bra strap.

Before you even registered what was happening, he brought the knife back out and sawed the bra off of you. You let out a gasp that was both surprised and indignant as he proceeded to rip your panties off with his bare hands, tossing the scraps of fabric aside.

“Hey! Those are the only ones I have here!” You huffed, glaring at him over your shoulder. “Unless you have a secret stash of women’s underwear, you seriously owe me.”

He nudged your knees apart with his leg. “I don’t think you’re going to need them while you’re here. You were already ruining them yourself, anyway.”

Before you could retort, you felt him push inside of you slowly, grabbing your hips as he let out a low moan. 

“Fuck…” you sighed without thinking, leaning your elbows against the back of the couch. 

“Yeah? Does that feel good?” He cooed condescendingly.

“In your drea–”

His hips snapped into yours harshly, interrupting you. You felt the heat of him against your back as he leaned over you, his breath fanning across the side of your face. 

“If I were you, I’d be careful about lying again. I might just stop and leave you all drenched like this, with your hands tied behind your back so you couldn’t touch yourself.”

He felt you clench around him at that and his smirk turned victorious. He kissed and sucked at your shoulder and neck, making sure to leave plenty of marks. His thrusts were hard and deep at first, hips barely pulling back as his weight pinned you down.

You let out a sound that was a strange mix between a whimper and a gasp as he bit into the tender flesh of your shoulder, hard enough to leave teeth marks behind. The jolt of pain mixed with pleasure – not to mention the slight shame that came with the feeling of your arousal dripping down your inner thighs – only fueled the fire that was steadily growing within you. 

Then, a little mindlessly, you pleaded, “Harder. Fuck me harder.”

He straightened immediately, readjusting himself to start pounding into you at a nearly punishing pace. You bit your bottom lip to try and keep quiet, but wanton sounds of pleasure escaped your throat despite your efforts. He was hitting a spot that made your head spin, tugging you backward onto his cock to meet his thrusts.

The lewd sound of flesh slapping together, along with your collective pants and groans, filled the room. He reached forward to grab your throat again, keeping you semi-upright as he continued to take you. In truth, he was focusing hard to stave off his release. He had plenty of stamina for his age, but the way your cunt took him so perfectly, as if molded just for him, was enough to have his balls tightening again. 

But he would never hear the end of it. 

Your legs began to shake a little as the coil in your belly tightened, threatening to snap. “I-I think I’m gonna cum, fuck…”

“Not yet,” he said firmly, immediately stopping his motions. 

You cursed him under your breath, beyond frustrated. You pushed your hips back, intent on fucking yourself on him, but his firm grip stopped you. He landed a firm smack on your ass, making you involuntarily clench around him. He hissed, feeling the strong urge to give in and continue fucking you until you came all over his cock, but he kept his composure. He wanted to keep indulging you for as long as he could, still not fully believing he wasn’t just having a dirty dream.

“Do that again and I’ll rip your fucking head off,” you snarled as he pulled out, grabbing your arm and leading you toward the bed.

“I told you I was going to make it count.”

He tossed you onto your back on the bed, crawling on top of you and pushing your knees up to your shoulders. He positioned himself between your thighs and sank back into your cunt with no further preambles, his strong body covering yours once more.

His hands cradled your head as he began to move again, reaching impossibly deeper than before. You clawed at his biceps as he ground his pelvis against you, making your brain practically short-circuit.

“There we go… See? I knew you could take more,” he said, kissing the corner of your lips. “Are you scared I'll pull out again? You keep sucking me back in.”

Too dazed to form words, your lips chased his so he would kiss you properly. Your tongue trailed over his upper lip enticingly, and he opened his mouth so his tongue could meet yours. This kiss was deeper, less frantic, finally giving yourselves a chance to taste each other properly. 

Soon you were clenching around him again, too distracted by your mounting pleasure to continue kissing him properly. 

“Fuck, don’t stop, Duncan. Please, please, please, just like that,” you begged desperately, moaning as he moved to kiss your jaw. 

“Yeah? You want me to fill you up, too?” He rasped against your skin. “Claim this needy cunt all for myself?”

You nodded eagerly, face contorting with ecstasy as you held onto him for dear life. Your muscles seized up as your climax washed over you, overpowering your senses. His hips stuttered as you cried out, your hot flesh molding into his like the deepest embrace. 

He kissed you again as he felt his own release rippling over him, groaning into your mouth as he shuddered, unable to hold himself back any longer. He thrusted hard a few more times before remaining fully inside of you, and you felt heat flooding your cunt. 

A whimper of slight overstimulation escaped you, but he soothed you with a whispered praise in your ear. You couldn’t help but smile beatifically, almost purring in content as he kept his cum inside of you.

As you both rode out your highs, your kisses turned lazy, almost tender, and even the way he held you felt different. Somehow, in some deep recess of your mind, it seemed right… and that scared you a little.

Still, you tried not to let it get to you then. Not as he leaned his sweaty forehead against yours, still panting, and said, “I think I tore my stitches.”

You chuckled. “You should probably take care of that, then.”

“In a minute…”

He disentangled himself from you, pulling out and sliding his body down between your legs. You tried to draw your thighs together, but he stopped you, planting a kiss on your mound.

He spread your lips with two fingers so he could see his cum trickling out of you, but then he pushed it back in with those same fingers, making your hips jerk slightly.

“T-this was a one time thing, you know,” you breathed, trying to sound firm. 

He barely glanced up at you, seemingly unbothered. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

But only an hour or so later, you found yourself riding him on the couch. Then, he took you against the wall, over the kitchen counter, off the edge of the bed, and subsequently on the floor. He seemed intent on making sure you never questioned his endurance ever again.

Even throughout the night, you slept sporadically, pawing at each other whenever you stirred. Not many words were exchanged during this time, but that didn’t mean your mouths weren’t put to good use. As usual, you both wound up with bruises, bite marks, and scratches all over each other, but the intention behind them couldn’t be any more different.

The storm died sometime during the night, but instead of fleeing right away, you let him hold you until dawn broke. There were too many new questions floating about in your head, but you weren’t really sure you wanted the answer to any of them for the time being. Perhaps it was simply best to let what happened remain in the past and simply move on.

As quietly as you could, you got up from the bed, cleaned yourself up, and dressed. You sheathed your weapons, avoiding looking at him as you prepared to leave. When your hand was on the doorknob, his voice stopped you.

“You didn’t kill me again,” he said. “Should I take that as an indication that you like me?”

You looked over at him, frowning. “Absolutely not. I’m serious, this was the last time it’ll ever happen.”

“I’m not sure I can trust your word.”

You huffed, irritated. “Well, you’ll have to. I intend to keep it.”

You yanked the door open, about to stomp outside, but you heard the creak of the bed as he sat up. 

“You know, I’m going to be in Portofino in a few months. I heard it’s beautiful there in the summer, and I figured I could use a vacation.”

“Are you trying to make yourself an easy target?”

“...Maybe.”

“And if I decide not to hunt you down?”

He raised an eyebrow. “If?”

You grimaced. “All I’m saying is don’t get your hopes up. I’m a very busy gal, I don’t have time to play cat and mouse with you.”

“And who’s who in that analogy, hm?”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes. “Goodbye, Duncan. Truce is over, do you hear me?”

“I’ll see you in Portofino. Make sure you bring sunscreen.”

The door slammed shut behind you. 

---——-

Part 2 out now!

[eretzyisrael]

by Joshua Hoffman

Unit 8200, Israel’s elite cyber-intelligence unit, has produced many of the country’s top tech entrepreneurs. Alumni went on to found Waze, Check Point, Wiz, and Mobileye. Some say serving in Unit 8200 is better than an Ivy League degree.

Israel is believed to have carried out more assassinations than any other Western country since World War II. The message is simple: If you harm a Jew, we will hunt you down.

Israel once smuggled Iraqi Jewish children out of Baghdad ... hidden inside suitcases. This was part of Operation Ezra and Nehemiah, which airlifted over 100,000 Iraqi Jews in the early 1950s.

The IDF invented “roof knocking” — a tactic that warns civilians before striking terrorist targets embedded within civilian infrastructure. A small, non-lethal warning is fired at a building to give civilians time to evacuate before a precision strike.

In 1960, the Mossad kidnapped Adolf Eichmann — one of the architects of the Holocaust — in Argentina and brought him to trial in Jerusalem. They tracked him, disguised themselves as airline crew, and sedated him before flying him to Israel.

Israel is the only country in history to have airlifted Africans to safety because they were Jews — Ethiopian Jews in Operations Moses, Joshua, and Solomon.

The Mossad once used a fake diving resort in Sudan as a front to smuggle Ethiopian Jews to Israel. Yes, a real hotel staffed by Mossad agents.This was part of Operation Brothers, which inspired the Netflix film, “The Red Sea Diving Resort.”

In 1976, Israel pulled off the boldest hostage rescue in history — Operation Entebbe. Israeli commandos flew 2,500 miles to Uganda to rescue Jewish hostages held by Palestinian and German terrorists. Over 100 hostages rescued. The only Israeli soldier killed? Yonatan Netanyahu, the brother of Benjamin Netanyahu.

The Mossad has posed as tourists, journalists, diplomats — and in one case, a Canadian birdwatcher — to conduct spy ops. They have even launched fake companies as covers for global missions, such as the ingenious beeper attack against Hezbollah last year. Once, Israel’s intelligence services created a fake psychic hotline to track terrorists. They claimed to be fortune-tellers to trick suspects into revealing info on themselves or their relatives.

Beneath a kibbutz laundry and bakery in Rehovot, a secret underground factory known as the Ayalon Institute produced over 2 million bullets for the Jewish underground — right under the noses of the British. Operated by young Haganah1 members in their teens and twenties, the factory ran in total secrecy from 1945 to 1948, with noise and heat masked by the aboveground bakery machines. Workers sunbathed on the roof to avoid suspicion from looking too pale. Even British soldiers unknowingly dropped off laundry at the site, never realizing they were helping cover up Israel’s first covert munitions operation.

The IDF has a specific soldier role called the “snack sergeant.” During long missions or operations, some units assign a soldier to manage morale ... with Bamba, Bisli, and chocolate.

🗺 Jerusalem of Gold

Jerusalem is over 3,000 years old and has been destroyed at least twice, besieged 23 times, captured and recaptured 44 times. And yet, it's still here. Alive. Holy. (And constantly under renovation.)

The Temple in Jerusalem was destroyed by the Babylonians in 586 BCE and the Romans in 70 CE — both on the same Hebrew date: the 9th of Av. Coincidence? Jews say: not likely.

Jerusalem is mentioned over 600 times in the Hebrew Bible — but not once in the Quran. And yet, it is considered the third holiest city in Islam after Mecca and Medina.

The Old City of Jerusalem is only 1 square kilometer (0.35 square miles), but contains the holiest sites for Judaism (Western Wall), Christianity (Church of the Holy Sepulchre), and Islam (Al-Aqsa Mosque). Basically, it’s the world’s most sacred traffic jam.

Over 1 million notes are placed into the Western Wall each year — and yes, they’re collected and buried respectfully. You can even send one via email or WhatsApp, and a rabbi will stick it in for you.

[nullnvoid911]

Happy new year!

As 2024 draws to a close, I thought it'd be fun to show some fun statistics about the thousands of posts I've made this year!

Here are the final totals:

Posts cited: 2436/5187 (46.9%)

Total followers: 524 (Thank you!)

#needs-attribution: 265 | #needs-more-info: 48

Posts still queued: 967 (how do I do this to myself...?)

Keep reading for more fun details!

Who's shown up on this blog?

Every cited post has been assigned tags based on their contents, using an auto-tagging system I built a while back. It's helpful if you want to see other posts of the same country, agency, etc. - but it's also great at finding stats like...

Countries

This blog has been quite the world tour! I've mentioned a staggering 58 countries in my posts. But by country, who have I posted about the most?

The top 5: Germany (491), Russia (369), France (321), USA (197), and Ukraine (131).

But enough about me - what did you all think of my posts? This next map is per capita, meaning the average number of notes each country's post got. (Countries with less than 5 posts are set to 0, and my reblogs are excluded.)

A surprising twist - Bulgaria takes top spot with 19.4 notes per capita! While their limited number of posts reveals a flaw in this measurement, the posts that are there really hit it off with the masked men lovers:

If you're curious, the runners up are Finland (14.3), Kosovo (14.1), Serbia (13.4), and France (13.0).

As an aside, I'd like to give a special shout out to the Czech Republic for stumping me the most when trying to cite posts from them. Where do you post your police photos?!?

Agencies

Okay, but which specific units have shown up the most this year?

Just pretend CBRN and K9 are units :)

I guess it's not surprising, but I forgot how much I posted about Germany's SEK! Then, Russian (ОМОН) and French (GIGN, RAID) agencies aren't too far behind.

And what did you think?

French agencies drift to the top. I know some of you reading this really like GIGN, so it makes a ton of sense! PI2G simply ranks first because of their limited number of posts:

But GIGN (and GIPN, FIPN, RAID, CDI, whatever...) also did respectably in the rankings:

GSG-9 also beats the more regional SEK in terms of notes per capita. They might be cooler, but way too many posts claim photos of SEK officers to be GSG-9!!

Dates

Every cited post comes with a date. But when did things happen the most on my blog? (Approximate dates, e.g. "<2014", are excluded.)

My earliest post is from July 20, 2001, during the G8 summit protests in Genoa:

And my latest post was December 26, 2024 - just a few days ago! A Swedish police officer searches for parachuters:

Some hotspots also arise in the graph. My most posted dates are:

January 31, 2021 (22 posts) and January 23, 2021 (19 posts) - Riot police during Alexei Navalny protests around Russia.

March 30, 2023 (19 posts) - German riot police exercise in Uelzen and Esterholz.

November 18, 2015 (17 posts) - French national police apartment raid in Saint Denis aimed at capturing Abdelhamid Abaaoud.

February 18, 2022 (14 posts) - Canadian riot police during COVID-19 protests in Ottawa.

Closing thoughts

To end off, I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who's followed this blog since I started it in May. I never thought I would sink this much time into collecting and sourcing images, building citation tools from scratch, finding VPNs, uncovering lost media... but here we are.

I read every note, so your comments, reposts, and deranged tags make the process all worth it :)

Whoever you are, wherever you come from, and whatever reason you follow my blog, thank you for sticking around. I hope you had a great 2024, and here's to a properly cited 2025!

-null

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Teen and Up Rated Fics Masterlist (83)

Part 1- Part 70 / Part 71 / Part 72 / Part 73 / Part 74 / Part 75 / Part 76 / Part 77 / Part 78 / Part 79 / Part 80 / Part 81 / Part 82 /

Created: August 24th, 2024

Last Checked:—-

Found-lollercakes (ao3) Summary: Ruth "Rue" Harrows was only trying to get away from a life she didn't sign up for. When she goes missing, the local branch of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police is assigned the case and it takes a fresh partner to push overworked officer Peeta Mellark into action. Good morning-oh_wellau (ao3) Summary: Set in Catching Fire, during the Victory Tour. Effie walks in on Katniss and Peeta sharing a bed. How bad can he be? -Hdishebrna (ao3) Summary: My take on a prison everlark au because I felt like it. Katniss has had a small crush on her biology partner up until she meets him somewhere she expected to see him. Ten long years, surely he can’t have changed that much… how to cope after almost getting your head bit off by a lizard mutt -xslytherclawx (ao3) Summary: Finnick survives. Hunger games high -Hdishebrna (ao3) Summary: Y'all should know the drill, all our favourite characters in a modern high school that I will make slight adjustments because British secondarys school have a little more character This is for my own enjoyment so try not to take it so seriously i've been on fire, dreaming of you-orangecranscones (ao3) Summary: Their hands were clasped tightly in between them. They silently exchanged promises to each other under the warm light of the beside lamp. Promises of dancing, chubby-legged children; of love that didn’t falter whether they saw each other every day or never again; of a life well lived. Promises to arrange the kindling together until they could no longer, to help the other remember how to light the fire if they forgot, to make sure their hearth never again went cold. Katniss and Peeta try to heal after the revolution. And they (mainly Katniss) finally learn how to love each other. It Happens in the Night-lollercakes (ao3) Summary: There are things that happen in the night. Terrible things. Katniss’ Nightmare-everlarkism (ao3) Summary: Despite the rebellion being over, nightmares and flashbacks haunt the Victors from District 12. Katniss has a nightmare that Peeta dies in the first Games. She wakes up in a fright and is reassured. Katniss… I don’t feel well -Hdishebrna (ao3) Summary: Peeta has only been saying one thing for a week and Katniss gets sick of it before she realises what she’s done when she wakes up alone let the flames begin-petruchio (ao3) Summary: Missing scenes from Catching Fire. Bits and pieces of the Victory Tour.

[alpaca-clouds]

CyberSix - The 90s trans Animated Series, you did not know about

Okay, I think it is time for me to talk about this Canadian/Japanese/Argentinian animated series, because it just is... surprisingly really good. And while maybe the entire trans/queer subtext was not entirely intended... It is so clearly there and really fucking amazing.

CyberSix is about, well, CyberSix, who has been created in genetic experiments by a Nazi scientist, who after WWII escaped to South America. While Cybersix escaped the laboratory, the Scientist Dr. Von Reichter still conducts genetic experiments on all sorts of animals and people. But he also wants to see Cybersix returned to him. So, to hide from him, Cybersix takes up the identity of the male teacher Adrian Seidelman, who teaches at a school for troubled teens. Things complicate, though, when she develops feelings for her colleague Lucas.

Now, let me be up front about two things... No, three:

Due to low ratings outside of Canada, the show was cancelled after only one season. Which also means that the ending of the show is kinda bittersweet - as what was meant to be a cliffhanger ended up to feel very finite.

The comic this was based on was on one hand very anti-Nazi. But at the same time it also uses a lot of racist stereotypes when depicting the Japanese characters (of which there are quite a few). While the characters are portrayed as good people, mind you, who end up helping Cybersix, they are depicted in a very racist way.

Also, if you look at the open ending and think: "Oh, maybe I should read the comic." Don't. Just don't. Trust me on that one. I read it. And it is... oh boy. Cybersix in it mostly exists as a male sexual fantasy. And in general the comic is very, very happy to show us naked women all the time, at times with explicit rape scenes. So, yeah, you definitely want to skip that one.

Still, despite those flaws. The show... is actually really fucking good. Especially because of the queer stuff.

While in the comic this was based on the fact that Cybersix hides under a male identity is just a plot device, in the series it actually is a lot more complicated. Because in the series we see Cybersix struggle with her gender identity. After all, she has been created, her sex was quite literally assigned to her. And while on one hand she kinda fantasizes about being with Lucas as a woman, she at times also feels more in home being seen as a man.

And while Lucas does not find out her true identity till the end of the show (again, there was another season planned), he kinda has feelings for Adrian and for Cybersix, not knowing they are the same person, making this king bisexual or pansexual (I read him as pan).

Meanwhile, of course, the main plot of the show is quite literally about punching Nazis, which is something I always can get behind. It literally deals with something that has happened in the real world (Nazi folks fleeing to South America) and I kinda think that this is neat.

For a while the show was on Youtube, but it sadly seems it was removed. You can still find it on... certain websites, though, given that the DVDs are hard to get a hand on.

I really recommend everyone to watch this show. Its just 13 episodes and it is... really, really good.

[teaboot]

Bonjour Teaboot! I'm writing a fic with a Canadian character and wanted to ask you - is learning French mandatory in school? At what age/grade do you start learning? What sort of level of fluency do most students usually reach in school? Do you learn France French or Quebec French? Merci beaucoup!

Taking French as a class is mandatory, yes, (if your school doesnt have other second-laguage options, thanks for the correction, I'd forgotten) but almost nobody becomes fluent in public school unless they do French immersion.

The French is Qébecois French, and like super duper basic ass shit like "are, have, go, do" conjugations and a fee basic phrases, plus some words for table, ceiling, chair, library, hospital, whatever.

In elementary school, I don't think we did much- My english schools taught us how to sing the national anthem in English and French as well as ASL, but I've completely forgotten the ASL and most of the French. Normally we'd sing it in English and then switch to French for the last few lines, idk why.

The average highschool graduate knows, "Hello, my name is", "yes", "no", "where is the library", and a couple random words and swears. (Swears were not part of the curriculum.)

I chose to do French immersion stsrting in grade 6, so what happens THERE is you speak English and throw in whatever French words you know (affectionately referred to as "franglais"), then slowly use more and more French until about grade 7-9 where speaking English is no longer allowed in class. (I got detention a few times for chatting in English.)

One funny thing about early French classes in immersion- we had to ask to use the bathroom in French (esque-je peux aller a la toilette, if i remember correctly) and one time a kid said it wrong (esque-je peur à la toilette) which kind of sort of translates to "Am I afraid of going to the bathroom?" Which was, frankly, hilarious, and not just because he used to throw shit at my head all the time

Popular French words among English students are "pomplemousse" (Pomp-LA-Moose, Grapefruit) "Granouille" (Gran-oo-ee, Frog) "Phoque" (Fock, Seal) and "Arrêt" (A-rett, often intentionally mispronounced as "a rat", Stop)

Common French assignments in Englush schools are talking with a partner about your summer vacation, reading short paragraphs to the class, using smalltalk words in proper contexts, naming pizza toppings, singing songs about conjugation, etc.

Common French assignments in French schools are translating chapters from books written in English, writing short fiction stories, correcting incorrect sentences, reading French books, writing essays, etc.

In BC at least you need to take French or choose another language if it's available at your school? I think my mom took Russian growing up, idk, you just need a second languahe

But I haven't actually been fluent in... God, about 12 years or so now?

I van read enough to passably understand slow speech and simple books, but not enough to articulate myself past very simple concepts and ideas- directions, questions asking for help, etc, and my grammar is.... bad.

Hope this helps?