#Nevada Prep

[w3llf4ll]

Art fight prep is making all of your characters matching chibi icons. Armor does not lend itself to that.

[mrsjdavis]

Y'ALL!!! Calling all Americans! If you live in Florida, Nevada, New Hampshire, South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Washington, Wyoming, Arizona, California, Massachusetts, or New York. PARTICIPATE IN THIS!!!!

https://directfile.irs.gov/

[helloodisha]

Nevada Grade6 Science TestPrep

[t1red-twilight]

friends?

content/warnings: gn!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, confession, cursing

word count: 1.7k

masterlist

you were somewhere in reno, nevada trying to track down a poltergeist. you knew that dean and sam were nearby, but you had no clue how close they were. the motel you were currently staying at was on the nicer side, to be honest. the motel room had been decently cleaned, the television had some actually good channels, and the sheets were soft.

you had ordered takeout and were watching some shitty game show, the room only lit by the lamp on the nightstand in between the two queen sized beds.

right as you were about to take another bite, you heard a knock at your motel room door. well, the knock was more of a thud than anything.

you looked through the foggy peephole, only to see the top of someone’s head and a tuft of brown hair.

without unhooking the chain, you opened the door. only to be surprised to find dean winchester slumped in the doorway. “dean?”

to put it lightly, he looked like shit. there was a bit of matted blood on his hairline and he was holding his shoulder. not to mention the sweat that lingered on his body everywhere you could see it.

“i got shot.”

“what?”

there was a pause before he responded. “yeah, yeah. can i come in?”

“oh, of course. yeah. absolutely.” you removed the chain and opened the door enough so that he could come in. when he was inside, you poked your head out and looked around. you saw the impala parked very crooked in the spot next to your car.

you turned to see dean awkwardly standing in the middle of the room. you walked behind him and pulled out the chair from the desk, urging him to sit down wordlessly.

“i’m just going to wash up for a second,” you stated, walking to the bathroom. dean responded silently with a thumbs up. for whatever reason, you caught yourself in a haze. why was he here? was he actually okay? was sam okay? the warm water from the faucet somewhat lulled you out of your head. you patted your hands dry and walked back out to dean.

you gently tugged his jacket and flannel off, and pulled the arm of his short sleeved shirt up. he hissed in what you assumed to be pain. rubbing his back, you stood. “i have a first aid kit around here somewhere.”

“please, just make it quick. i’m bleeding out over here.” reaching into one of the cabinet drawers, you pulled out the first aid kit. after some years hunting, your first aid kit became more of a small hospital in a box.

you walked over to dean and kneeled to be eye-level with his shoulder. you grabbed his hand and had him hold up the bloodied sleeve of his shirt.

as you were tugging the bullet out of dean’s arm with long tweezers, you heard him repeatedly grunt in pain. “sorry,” you looked up at him. his face showed a screwed-up expression, his eyebrows drawn together.

all he responded with was a tightly knit, closed mouth smile that was very clearly strained. “dean, what did this to you?”

dean looked away at you and at the wall; he began to fiddle with the edge of his shirt sleeve. “you should see the other guy”

you snorted sarcastically.

“no, really. is sam okay?” you took out the disinfectant and prepped his arm.

dean inhaled shallowly. “it was just a mix up with some vampires. i knew that you were nearby, and sam sucks at stitches, so-“ he blurted, before you cut him off.

“…so, you’re keeping tabs on me?” you raised an eyebrow playfully while you readied the needle and thread. “i’m going in with the stitches now.”

“fuck,” he muttered. “thank you for the warning. jesus.” he paused, eyes flickering between yours and the floor. “it’s-uh, hard not to.”

you raised your eyebrows. “what do you mean?” what did he mean? yeah, you guys were friendly, but surely he wasn’t suspecting you of anything. you pretended not to hear the tone in his voice that indicated he meant something more than he was saying.

dean gulped. “i- we just like to know that you’re safe. that’s all.”

“okay you little creeper, i see how it is.” as you spoke, you finished up the stitches with a patch to cover them from any irritation. “i’m assuming you don’t need anywhere to stay tonight?”

he answered your question with another question; you began cleaning the wound on his forehead. “maybe i can just stay with you tonight? i’m sure sam wouldn’t mind,” he all but whispered the last part.

you stood after finally finishing patching him up. this view you weren’t used to, seeing him from above. you were even less used to seeing dean be so vulnerable. he had this look in his eyes, a sort of pleading. maybe he had picked that up from sam. “if you really want to, then you totally can.” you shrugged. “i was just finishing dinner, then i was going to clock out for the night.”

dean held up his hands. “by all means, finish your dinner.”

“eh, i’m not really that hungry anymore,” you joked. “i haven’t gotten in either bed yet. you can pick whatever one.” you closed the takeout box and placed in on the tv stand, the tv still playing the shitty gameshow. you had all but forgotten about it.

dean held a perplexing look on his face, he almost seemed distant. “i’ll take the window bed. you good if i sleep in my boxers?”

walking to the bathroom once more, you shrugged. “yeah, sure. i’m going to brush my teeth- just settle in before i’m done.”

by the time you emerged from the bathroom, dean had, in fact, settled in. he had pulled he sheets and duvet up to his chin, only his head being exposed. what a cute visual, you thought.

“i texted sam. i told him i was staying with you.” he barely even moved as he spoke.

you smiled at him lopsidedly, drawing the sheets back and sitting down. “that’s good,” you paused slightly, “can i turn the lamp off?” dean nodded. you turned out the light and pulled the sheets over yourself.

normally, dean’s snores would have filled the room rather quickly. however, you didn’t notice this as you started to drift off to sleep.

a couple of moments passed before dean decided to say something.

“hey,” dean whispered, “are you awake?” the silence that followed made dean think that maybe you were.

you grunted, but answered with words when he didn’t respond. “yeah. why?” the warm sheets held you in an embrace; one that you would surely disappear into if dean didn’t follow up quickly.

dean mumbled a response, “thank you for letting me stay with you.” the soft genuine nature of his tone made you think twice. what was he getting at?

“yeah sure, that’s what friends are for.” you hoped the smile could be heard in your tone, but anything could be said with how drowsy you were. that was the end of that, you assumed. dean just wanted to be extra sweet tonight, you guessed. weird.

dean all but blurred, “so, we’re friends?” so, maybe dean wasn’t being sappy, maybe something was up.

“what?” you asked confusedly.

his voice lowered in volume slightly. “we’re friends, that’s what you said,” dean remarked. that thing in his voice was there again.

your eyes shot open. “uh, yeah?” he didn’t answer. “dean?” this time, you sat up and looked at him. “dean?” the sheets fell around your torso; you looked to your side you could see that dean was wide awake. “you good?”

dean’s next statement shocked you to your core. “just this once, can you lie to me? please.” the words were seemingly aggressive, but paired with his tone of voice, it just felt to be desperate.

why would he want you to lie? “what? why would i lie to you?” you puzzled out loud, pulling the sheets closer to you again.

“maybe, tonight, we can just be more. just for tonight,” dean murmured. for the first time since he spoke up, he looked into your eyes.

his green eyes swirled with a mix of apprehension and excitement. his brow knitted together again.

oh.

that’s what he had been getting at; that’s what he had been getting at all night, and you were sure that he had been dropping hints far longer than just tonight.

but, you couldn’t stand to be a one-time-thing, even if it just was pg-13 and not anything sexual. you liked dean, a lot. you wouldn’t be able to brush this off. you would forever want him to be close to you; dean wouldn’t be a drug you could quit easily, or at all.

you gulped. “well,” here goes nothing, “maybe tonight isn’t enough for me.” you kept yourself turned toward him, but lowered your gaze.

“what?” this time, he only spoke out of anticipation. the kind of pure excitement and joy that a child has when they get a toy they’ve been asking for for ages.

“maybe i need every night,” you continued. you mustered up the courage to look him directly in the eye.

“that works for me,” he responded almost instantly.

a more calm silence settled over the motel room. you two would need talk this out later.

you laid back down, whispering, “you wanna come over here?”

dean sat up. “yeah.” swiftly, he picked up his feet and left his bed, padding over to your bed and pulling back the sheets little by little. you opened them fully and he climbed in.

it started with the pair of you laying down next to each other about a foot away from the other. until, dean reached out his hand under the covers to search for yours.

when he found it, he grasped your hand like it was his lifeline. then, he pulled your arm; meeting his eyeline, he flicked his head over in and effort to get you to inch closer to him.

you understood, and moved ever so slightly closer to him. dean reached his other arm over and tugged your head to lay upon his chest.

dean was warm, his heat filling you. his heartbeat resounded in your ears, drowning out the buzz of the crappy ac. everything about him was comforting to you; like he and you were meant to be.

“how about you stay with me and sam for a while?” dean whispered into your hair.

you closed your eyes again. “i’d like that,” you murmured.

you’d definitely have to address this later. but, for now, this was good. this was really good.

[lets-try-some-writing]

what if optimus was a human teacher?

Well here is an interesting concept I am 100% going to go crazy with. This is a long one though so I'm going to break this up with a read more and a warning that this isn't going to go the way you might think.

Not So Normal Teacher

The Archivist in Optimus was bored.

Megatron had been quiet for over a year and not a spark had a thing to do until the Decepticons made a move. He had already reorganized the Autobot database three times and he couldn't exactly go wandering off with how much energon he used. He was stuck at base handling communications and mission assignment, and Primus, even the Matrix was antsy. He wanted something to do, anything really. And so after months of sitting around being driven half mad by lack of stimuli, he came up with an idea.

The Archivist in him wanted to teach, to preserve history, and to collect data. What better way to do all of that than by taking up a position as an educator? It was rather outlandish considering he was a Prime and from another world, but there was a school in the nearby human settlement hiring. He had no need for human currency nor was it particularly wise to go sign up as a teacher when the Decepticons could resurge at any moment. However he reasoned that if nothing else he would gain greater insight into human capability through his endeavors.

Ratchet was against his idea from the get-go but allowed Optimus to go through with it after he gave his reasoning and pointed out that he would actually use less energon if he kept his frame at base and worked elsewhere. Thus with Ratchet's begrudging assent, Optimus made himself a whole forged identity for his human holoform, plopped his real frame down in his berth, and got to work.

Orion Pax turned up to the interview looking his best, but despite his efforts there were still a few little things that set him apart. He was indeed professional in wearing a simple turtleneck sweater and jeans with a belt. However that was not what made the interviewer a little concerned, no it was fact that Optimus's hair looked like the American flag with the mixed red white and blue alongside the little markings on his face just under his eyes along with scars that had also transferred over. There was also the fact that his eyes were a little too bright, his movements a tad too stiff, and the way his voice seemed nearly melodic in nature.

However since Orion Pax managed to answer the interview questions perfectly, had a clean record, and was the embodiment of politeness and patience, he was accepted in short order. Thus Optimus got himself a job at Jasper Nevada Memorial High School as history teacher.

Orion Pax befriended the entirety of the teaching staff by the end of week one with his kind disposition, patience, and wisdom beyond his years. He assisted the math teacher in grading papers and even taught him a thing or two with all the patience in the world when the teacher began to struggle. He aided the English teacher by bringing her a cup of coffee and pointing out a small error in her class prep work. He helped the gym teacher get the court set up for the lesson that day and helped him organize the various equipment in record time. He stopped the science teacher from accidentally creating a deadly gas when the teacher passed out from exhaustion halfway through an experiment, leaving Pax to carefully clean up and then grade the teacher's papers for him. Then to top it all off, he assisted the music and arts teacher in her efforts to decorate her classroom for the school year.

The staff loved him, especially the school cleaners since Pax would always stay up late to help them clean despite their protests. He was the perfect co-worker, and quickly found himself as the most loved teacher once the school year started. His students were skeptical of the teacher who looked like he crawled out some sort of cosplaying event and had an American flag for hair, but they swiftly warmed up to him due to his manner of teaching.

Optimus hadn't actually done any real research on human methods of teaching, instead relying on his own experience. In a school as out of the way as Jasper Nevada High School, the regulations were not as strict and so long as students passed their exams, he was allowed to teach as he wished. He did have to adapt a few of his methods to account for human biological limits, but he quickly garnered the students interest with how he went about his teaching.

Using a holoprojector he adjusted to look more like a human one, Optimus, or rather Pax gave the children a more interactive experience. He was passionate as he showed them history in simulations and introduced them to old battles in complicated holographic maps. His classroom was covered in star charts and old documents, studies, and artwork. Every student was urged to find something historical that interested them and dive into it with all their passion and enthusiasm. No students were left unheeded and all their issues were accounted for. The social students were grouped together and given specific historical figures to study in a manner similar to what the archivists of Cybertron did. The less social were given special homework, being required to study a specific event and bring in all they had gathered.

Students with disabilities such as dyslexia and other reading or information processing impediments were personally tutored and grouped. Those who had issues reading were given a partner who would do the reading while they took notes and sectioned out data. Those who had trouble paying attention to certain subjects were given work in areas that had their interest. A child who found warfare to be of interest would be given to mission to look into the Art of War and compile an alternate battle plan for the assault on Rome. A child who preferred the more domestic texts was to come up with a whole biography that was time period accurate for a fictional character living in their chosen era.

Every student had their education specialized to suit them best alongside the general education Orion had them listen to.

Orion was not harsh, he didn't give homework in the manner of other teachers and instead gave the students one big project to complete over the year and smaller personal research projects to complete once a month. A good archivist doesn't rush his research, no, instead time and dedication is given to ensure everything is correct and proper. He did everything in his power to instill this into his students, never putting stern deadlines on anything and instead focusing on fostering interest and a desire for truth.

He wanted his students to love history, not despise it. He wanted them to learn from the mistakes of their ancestors and move forward. And most importantly he made sure to remind them to not be angry at the past and instead see it as an example of another time. For his efforts his students loved him.

It certainly helped that he tended to tell his students altered stories of Cybertron's history, changing bits and pieces to make it seem like a legitimate but long dead human civilization. His students were enraptured with his tales and the battles he made come to life with his projector. Even other teachers would come to listen if they had free time. However to keep his students on task, he only told them stories when the completed their other class's homework before his, thus leading to other teachers finding more success in their lessons too.

After particularly good performances from his students, he would quietly teach them pieces of his culture. He told himself it was just because it was something for them to do, but deep down he knew the real reason why he did this. He didn't want everything of his people to be lost if he were to lose the war. He didn't want everything his people did to be forgotten and washed away by the tests of time. If he was to fail... he wanted something to remain with his students.

Thus he taught them everything he could. He told the other teachers that it was from an ancient culture long forgotten that he was personally studying and come up with some forged documents to prove it. Then his students were introduced to the Ancient Cybertronian language and received extra credit for every work they submitted written in it. He altered the manner in which the glyphs could be processed and spoken while still keeping it as true as possible so that his students could speak it and read it. Then he offered them even more extra credit if they spoke the language in class.

It brought him no end of joy when one Rafael Esquivel made it his mission in life to learn and speak Ancient Cybertronian. If he wasn't long used to having to remain on task even while under increadible stress he would have devoted a great deal of his time to ensuring the boy understood everything perfectly. However he abstained and kept his focus, teaching all his students equally and making sure they were still learning their own history. If Rafael came to him after school to learn more, Optimus never rejected him and taught him happily, more than a little pleased when the boy's glyphs came out as perfectly as they could considering his biology when he spoke.

He also showed his students old dances from all across Cybertron. He altered them as much as he could and gave students different dances based on personality. Students got extra credit if they could perform a dance perfectly by the end of the school year. He never really expected any of them to do it, but by Primus he was surprised when Miko Nakadai turned up guns blazing and performed three different dances from different castes as perfectly as she could considering her biological restraints. She was a terrible study, but evidently her interest in dancing was increadible. Optimus may or may not have taught her a few more dances a little later just to see if she could do it, only to be shocked beyond words when she could indeed do it.

Lastly he introduced his students to Cybertronian art which had a heavy reliance on story telling. It was an end of the year project since his students managed to burn through the curriculum in less than six months and get mostly through the next year's work before the Principle asked Pax to slow down and teach them something else for a while. Optimus thought slowing his student's growth was ridiculous, but he complied and taught them how to engrave and paint in the manner of Cybertronians. It was shortly after he began teaching this that he was yet again surprised to find Jack Darby of all his students to be the one to perform best.

The boy was an excellent engraver, to the point where if Optimus were the kind of mech he might have even let Jack engrave his outer plating. He could get the glyphs nearly perfect every time and had a gift for painting that surpassed more than a few artists from Cybertron during the golden age. It shocked and awed Optimus more than he cared to admit, and much like with his two other exemplary students, he may have slid Jack over a printed copy of some other examples of Cybertronian art from the Autobot database.

He was a proud teacher, and a fragging good one too by any standard. But that was not all, he also cared deeply for his students and got to know all of them. Bonds were a serious thing on Cybertron, especially the ones found between mentor and student. Optimus took the time to understand every student he taught, to learn their likes, their dislikes, and what their situations were. By the end of his first year teaching he already saw his students as his little archivists. He stayed out of their personal lives as much as he could considering his place, but when needed he would answer a call for help.

A student who came in hurt would find their cast covered in loving little glyphs that spoke of wishes and prayers from Cybertron. A student who had a mental illness would be given plenty of small gifts and attention to help them look on the bright side. Students with body image problems were welcomed with love, always receiving a compliment when they entered. Every student was seen to and cared for, especially in the odd case where they came to him for help.

He said he wouldn't get involved, but he was a Prime, he couldn't leave anyone in need of aid. During the singular instance where a student called him in tears at the end of the school day weeping because of their abusive parent, Optimus didn't even hesitate. His holoform was reabsorbed and his real frame moved out. He transformed and drove as fast as he could until he reached the student's residence, at which point he remade his holoform, called authorities, and may or may not have busted down the door to get his student out of there before they could be hurt further.

Not a spark touched one of his little archivists. And while he did get a fine for trespassing and property damage, Optimus had no regrets. It certainly made him feel like his actions were justified when he found a small bundle of flowers on his desk a few days later from the student he saved.

The team slowly began to get a little worried for him when he began gushing about his students around base and keeping their little gifts. When questioned he had nothing but praise for his students and in the end the team just let him be. Optimus still did the work that was needed of him around base, so why argue with him when he was far happier than any of the team had seen him in centuries. Ratchet did warn Optimus not to get attached, but by that point it was far too late if the small pile of thank you gifts and other assorted thing piled on Optimus's workstation was any indicator.

His students didn't know, but he adored their gifts. Gifts were special on Cybertron, and so for every gift he received, he returned. His little archivists were in his own mind, the best. As such when Megatron made his reappearance two years later just as his first batch of students were graduating, Optimus was actually angry.

How dare the fragger turn up and put his little archivists in danger!? It was unforgivable, especially when because of Megatron's actions, three of his students turned up at base and Optimus had to try not to sputter. Jack, Miko, and Rafael, his three most invested students when it came to Cybertronian culture. What started as a harmless little subject quickly had the children connecting the dots when it came to the team.

They thought what Mr. Pax was teaching them was rooted from Cybertronian influence, perhaps from him unearthing something from Cybertron long ago. They didn't know that Optimus was the one teaching them and still turning up to classes part time every other day after Megatron returned. How was he supposed to not get attached even more when he lived two lives, one as Mr. Pax the history teacher and one as Optimus Prime, the leader of the Autobots, both of which interacted with the children?

Optimus: Jack, have you turned in your school work for the week yet?

Jack: No... I've been having some trouble with glyphs.

Optimus: Oh? What are you learning?

Jack: My history teacher Mr. Pax has been teaching up about a long dead civilization that seems to have been influenced by you bots. He's been teaching us the language they used.

Ratchet: *glaring at Optimus* Oh really? I would love to hear more about it.

Miko: Yeah! The glyphs are boring, but Mr. Pax also taught us dances! See, look! *proceeds to perform a dance from central Iacon*

Bulkhead: Wait, isn't that a dance used by the-

Optimus: *holding a servo over Bulkhead's mouth* The ancient civilization I assume?

Miko: Yep! Its super fun!

Rafael: Mr. Pax also taught us how to speak the old language. I think I am fairly proficient. *proceeds to speak fluent ancient cybertronian*

Arcee: What the frag!?

Ratchet: I do believe we need to have a talk Optimus.

[emilynajeraphoto]

Prepping for an upcoming exhibition of Nevada roadsides. Exhibition Dates: October 2, 2024 – January 30, 2025 in Carson City, Nevada.

Ely, Nevada, 2024

© Emily Najera

[ghuleh-recs]

In honor of her birthday, I made us a ramblingoak mixtape. A Greatest Hits Vol. I, if you will. Oak is a gift and our fandom is incredibly lucky to have her. I could wax poetic about her work all day. It's often actually laugh-out-loud hilarious, scorchingly hot, and/or achingly beautiful. Not only is her writing immaculate, she is also an incredibly kind and funny human. Happy Birthday, Oak! Thank you for sharing your words with us!!

(rec list of absolute bangers under the cut)

The Cardinal's Bride (Cardinal Copia x Female Reader)A Romantic Adventure in the Old West: After being forced into a marriage with Mr. Saltarian by your father you are sent west to his estate in Nevada. Along the way you end up meeting one of the cowboys you have always fantasized about… (full rec here)

The Morningstar (Terzo x Female Reader)Stealing from cowboys was easy, but you might have met your match in The Morningstar… (set in the same AU as The Cardinal’s Bride)

Sap (Secondo x GN Reader)Prep for a ritual has kept you away from your Papa and you both are feeling the strain

Falling (Cardinal Copia x Female Reader)How long can casual sex with Cardinal Copia stay casual?

What You See (Primo x GN Reader)Primo needs you to tell him what you see when you look at him.

One Dance (Terzo x Female Reader)Duca (Duke) Terzo Emeritus was too charming for his own good (part 2 here)

Yay Satan Day (Cardinal Copia x Female Reader)Copia does his best to distract you from your job

The Sexy Adventures of Cardinal Terzo (Terzo x Female Reader)A series of stories featuring Cardinal Terzo and the many sexy adventures he has at the Abbey.

Play Ball (Copia x Female Reader)You weren’t the only one that loved that baseball uniform…

[beemers-hell]

Can you drop more lore on Raina???

I wish I had visual images to accompany this, but oh well lmao, anyway Raina lore beneath the cut cause i like running my mouth!

Basically, Raina's kinda just vibing! Like Bank, she was born riiiiiight before Nevada went to absolute Hell, so she has very vague memories of what Nevada was like before the madness really took over n' everything. For a while, her and her family were doing well enough surviving through the early years of Nevada's newfound apocalypse state, however, one by one, her family members would be killed off, through random incidents. Eventually, around the time she turned 11, she was the only surviving member of her family, and she was, as you can imagine, incredibly distraught about it. Confused on what to do now that she was alone in the world, the only thing she could think of was making her way to a site inhabited by the Agency, since she at least knew there would certainly be adults there.

Obviously, since she was a tween, it's not like they were gonna hire her or anything, however the site she found herself at was in need of test subjects for a new series of experiments they were conducting, and, yanno, it's not like a kid is gonna survive for very long out in the wilds anyway, so they decided to take her in as fodder. There, she would be subjected to various experiments that were meant to test a new idea some scientists had been brewing; Maybe there was a way to turn Nevadeans into ultra powerful, supernaturally gifted entities, by somehow harnessing the powers of places and entities from beyond Nevada (ie. The Other Place, Dissonance, The Betrayers)? Which would certainly beef up their soldiers, if they were able to figure it out. So, the subjects of these experiments, including Raina, would be rung through the ringer in order to try and manipulate their bodies into becoming capable of supernatural abilities. Though many of these early attempts were unsuccessful, by the time Raina was registered into the experiment, the Scientists running it had finally broke through the initial troubles they were having and were at a place where some of the experiment subjects were actually surviving, and were displaying abilities they had not wielded before. So Raina's chance of survival/success was pretty assured.

And, yanno, trying to warp the body in order to make it capable of unnatural powers is gonna involve some pretty invasive procedures/testing, and Raina was subject to that shit! But she would eventually make it through the prep stages, which involved such procedures as; A couple of brain surgeries, multiple DNA splicing procedures, many rounds of injections with various substances, etc, etc...But she made it out alive so that's good! Though her physical body had been warped, as a result of her DNA and genetic material having been spliced with that of romp material. Oh well!

Raina showed pretty promising results; the Scientists in charge of her had been wanting to develop a way to engineer a grunt into being able to teleport, and they had managed to get it figured out with Raina. So she was teleporting! It was very uncontrolled and she seemed to have developed some sort of seizure disorder as a result of the signal misfirings occurring in her brain when she teleported, but kinks like those were to be expected and they were working on ironing it out with her. Unfortunately for them though, she managed to escape when a false alarm had been called on the facility she was stuck in, and managed to teleport herself outside of the perimeter of the building. And then she just fucking BOOKED it. By now she was around 14, and she was determined to figure out how to ensure her survival without relying on any outside help, since, yanno, her first attempt at relying on someone resulted in her getting turned into a science experiment lmao.

So she worked very hard on developing her survival skills, and learned how to make do for herself out in the wastelands. She'd picked up some skills from some of her fellow experiment prisoners, and had internalized a lot of the academic information she'd been exposed to from the scientists around her, so she spent a lot of her time split between honing in her ability to survive in the apocalypse, as well as nurturing her newfound interest in science and engineering.

Not much else happened in her life for a while, she was just busy surviving and learning, but by the time she turned 18, she had come across a little group of people calling themselves "W.M.S.Q." and at this point, she figured she could make a more educated judgement on if she could trust people around her by now, so she joined their little faction as a worker for them. And they were very good to her! So she stayed with them, and that's where she's at currently. She's a fantastic worker, a very skilled marksman, and extremely gifted in the engineering department, having gotten so good at her craft that she's just straight up inventing her own specialized weapons to use, just for herself. She's learned how to use her teleportation powers to the absolute effectiveness in combat situations, as well as whatever the hell it is that her weird romp abilities allow her to do. She's a very laid back type of guy in spite of the horrors she bore at a young age, in fact, due to them, she has no sense of fear left in her! Which has been proving to be a difficulty for her, but yanno, everyone's gotta struggle with something lol

[lovecore-fics]

The Frenemy

C!sapnap x AFAB!reader

smut

warnings: pet names, degrading, breeding

a/n: this doesn’t go with lore characters but had the nations/kingdoms in it! (mentions of las Nevadas) 

You and dream had been “enemies” ONLY because dream is a sore loser.

For context: you and dream were gambling at las nevadas after hours because quackity let you guys occasionally. Dream ran out of diamonds so instead of diamonds he offered his sword. Nightmare. Obviously like every other round won and took his sword home. 

Ever since then he wouldn't let sapnap or george talk to you and he himself wouldn't talk to you.

Which is why you're sitting here looking at the text from sapnap.

Sapnap: y/n please come over. I need a favor

Why was this man texting YOU behind his bestfriends back for one little favor- 

You were thinking of so many things he would ask you to do for him you zoned out.

Apparently you're not allowed to think for a moment because a couple seconds later you got another notification.

Sapnap: y/n hurry tf up- its important!

While you were walking to the best friend's shared house you started wondering if it was a trap.

your mind was racing with the possibilities of what's gonna happen when you arrive, some possibilities were even dirty…

When you got to the house you noticed only sapnaps horse was there which made you less terrified.

You walked in the house since it was just sapnap but when you looked up nobody was there.

“Sapnap?” you called out. 

The minute you yelled his name you heard a thud come from his room. 

Sapnap suddenly appeared in front of you; he seemed to be in some sort of pain.

“y/n i really trust you please promise me you wont judge what i'm about to say.” the texan said it surprised you that he let his guard down for a favor- he's usually “tough” and “masculine” but he's here right now asking, no. begging you not to judge him for a favor. 

“I won't sapnap what was so urgent?” you said hoping it was important enough to interrupt your time off from being security at quackity’s casino. 

 “I can't…undo something” he said looking down which made you look down but you didn't make it to the floor, you found something more interesting in sapnaps shorts.

“Sapnap-” you didn't mean to come off as scared but the look on sapnaps face made you realize that you looked scared- 

Sapnap looked like he had just seen a ghost. He looked more scared than i could possibly look-

“Im sorry” he kept repeating after the 3rd one i cut him off.

“It's ok sap- Calm down-” you said, getting closer to the man freaking out in front of you. 

He looked at you, also taking a step closer, looking down at you. you guys were now close enough you could feel his breath against your cheeks. 

“y/n can i-” he was cut off by you pressing your lips against his.

He put his hands on your hips pulling you closer to the point you could feel his boner through his pants and your skirt. 

“You look like such a whore” he said after pulling away from the kiss

“Says the one who texted me bc he didnt wanna jerk himself off” you said rolling your eyes and looking up at the taller man. 

The man caught you by surprise when he went after your neck. You could feel the heat from the blaze hybrids lips. 

Getting lost in the feeling of his lips on your neck made you let out a moan immediately covering your mouth right after. 

“No sweetheart i wanna hear you scream my name” he said dragging you over to the kitchen and bending you over the counter pulling up your skirt.

You heard the hybrid's pants drop to the floor and you arched your back to tease the man behind  you.

Your lighthearted teasing was interrupted when you felt a sting on your ass. He just SPANKED you. You didn't mind tho it felt good. Too good, you accidentally let out another moan. 

“Yeah i bet you like that you fucking slut.” his dick entered your pussy without any prep or warning. 

“Fuck! Sapnap-” you moaned and continued making lewd sounds while the male fucked you. 

“That's right scream my name baby” his thrusts got faster and deeper making more lewd sounds come out of you. 

“f-f-f-!” you couldn't ask him to go faster you could only moan, you were unable to talk. 

“Words darling” he slowed down his pace letting you speak.

“Faster please sir.” you finally were able to say.

“Anything for my pretty little slut” the man sped up his pace again going faster than before. 

You were lost in pleasure until you felt the male pull your hair making your back hit his chest. 

“Open your mouth darling” he looked into your eyes with nothing but lust. 

You did as you were told in fear of being denied an orgasm later on. So you opened your mouth and he spit in your mouth. 

“Swallow.” he told you and you did so smiling after. 

“breed me please” you mumbled not meaning to. 

“What was that sweetheart?” he cooed knowing exactly what you said. 

“Breed me!” you screamed out, the entire smp could probably hear. 

Sapnap went feral after those 2 words left your mouth. 

He fucked you faster and deeper than you could’ve imagined then you felt it. A knot in yout stomach ready to come undone. 

“C-cum” you moaned, closing your eyes. 

“Do it princess” he whispered in your ear

You came undone on his cock babbling random things even you didn't understand.

Quickly after sapnap came inside of you with one last thrust he pulled out. 

All of you and sapnaps thoughts were interrupted when the front door opened and there dream stood. 

[umlewis]

Every Traveler Needs to Try Lewis Hamilton's Hotel Hacks [part 1/2]

The F1 driver has mastered the art of resetting his body clock and getting comfortable on the road.

Lewis Hamilton first stepped into the Mercedes-AMG Petronas car over a decade ago. Before his signing, Mercedes was struggling to produce as a team, but with the young, cunning Brit behind the wheel, things changed. Since then, Hamilton has scored the record for most wins, pole finishes, and podium finishes in the most competitive motorsport in the world. No matter how gifted the athlete, leading the pack like that doesn’t come solely through natural ability, and the driver has found a formula for success that follows him across the globe. Men’s Journal spoke with Hamilton on how he prepares to drive circuits he’s never seen before at speeds over 200 miles per hour, his favorite cross-training activities, and the travel routines that keep him at the front of the pack.

Men's Journal: F1 Las Vegas Grand Prix has a start time of 10p.m. PT. How are you prepping for a night race—any hacks? Lewis Hamilton: Preparing to drive a new track means as much simulation work as possible to get a feel for the course. I have two full days that I’ll do in the sim before I land in Vegas. It’s important to adjust your internal clock, so before we get to Nevada, the team is spending some time in Los Angeles. I’m already adjusting my mornings to waking up and going to bed later to fit with the schedule of a night race. I’m also making sure my meals and nutrition intake fits the new schedule. The key is adjusting the light I’m taking in—using different bulbs with different brightness so I can maintain a good circadian rhythm. Since we travel so much, I always make sure the rooms we’re staying in have blackout curtains so I can get a deep sleep at any hour. I like to keep the room cool, which makes the bed more welcome. The bed itself is also crucial, I like a firm pillow because I like to sleep on my side. The ones I have at home are Tempur-Pedic. Do you struggle with sleep? I’ve never been a great sleeper. For years I would go to bed at 2 or 3 in the morning and sleep for about five hours. But, to be honest, that worked for me, because our days are leading up to the the main event, which is later in the afternoon. So if I wake up at 5 in the morning, I’m probably peaking a lot earlier in the day than if I wake up at 8. So I’m sticking with waking up later, though these days I’m trying to get more like seven hours of sleep a night. The Mercedes Benz team has a partnership with Marriott Bonvoy and The Ritz-Carlton, which seems like a smart one given how much you travel. How do you make a hotel feel like a home away from home? One of the most important amenities is a coffee machine in the room, because I like to have coffee when I wake up on race day or any day for that matter. I love to play music, it calms me so I’ll have my music equipment in the room as well. I have a keyboard that folds in half so it’s easier to travel with. I really want that hotel space to feel like home. The Marriott team takes that to another level, and sometimes they’ll even have a picture of my dog, Roscoe, on the nightstand. It’s also about what I have them take out of the room. I have them take out all the snacks and anything from the minibar, because when you're working strange hours your body can crave comfort. The easiest way to get that is from food, so I want to eliminate any temptation I might have to deal with later. Instead, I’ll make sure the fridge is filled with healthy snacks like fruit. What’s the most challenging part about being a Formula 1 driver? The Formula 1 season is very challenging for all the drivers. We're going to 24 different countries, maybe more throughout the year, sitting in planes all the time. Rest and recovery is a huge part of making sure we're on point when it comes to showing up to the races ready. There's an immense amount of travel involved. My mindset is greatly benefitted by meditation, so I try to prioritize it. I don’t always get to, and I can feel the difference, but the schedule can get very hectic. I always do better when I can put that focus into my mental game. I like to start my day with positive affirmations, no matter what state I’m in, and focus on the things I want to do. That’s where things like playing music comes in handy. Competing has become very serious business, and we work hard, perhaps too hard. There’s immense benefit to smiling to the body and mind. Exercise is also a great way to help me stay sharp, on top of being critical to succeeding in motorsports.

[dapperbasil]

OC Kiss Week: Day 6

Reno, Nevada. February 14, 2024

Rather than go out or do anything fancy for Valentines, Zacharias suggests a relaxing night in. It's their first Valentines holiday since officially going public with their relationship, and a rare chance for the two to just be themselves with each other.

“Stupid haven built for stupid tall Ventrue. Who even puts spices on the top shelf anyway?” Standing on the tips of her toes, Tammy tried as hard as she could to reach for the spice rack that taunted her just out of reach. Across the kitchen she could hear a chuckle from the man slicing tomatoes who clearly wasn't even trying to hide his amusement at her plight. “Not even going to offer to help?” A pout was fixed on her face as she continued to struggle to reach. 

The rhythmic sound of the knife hitting the cutting board didn't stop as Zacharias continued with the task at hand. His voice did however carry over loud enough for her to hear him even over the ambient sounds of the kitchen. “I believe it was you who insisted on the spice rack sitting so high up, dear. I didn't offer to help since you seemed so determined to get them down on your own.” He was quick with his work, finishing just in time to turn and see her pulling over a chair to give herself extra height. Before she could finish climbing up, Zacharias was there pulling her down from her precarious perch.

“What happened to not offering to help?” Her pout had turned to a slight smirk as he held her by her hips, having not let go from bringing her back to the floor. Instead of answering her, Zacharias pulled her into a passionate embrace, silencing her with a kiss on the lips. Her hands wandered before finally wrapping around his neck to deepen the kiss, keeping him held there for as long as she could justify. Eventually one of the kitchen timers began beeping and the two had to separate to quickly get moving on their meal prep.

Dutifully, Zacharias put away her chair before pulling down the various herbs and spices they needed for the recipe while Tammy rushed over to stir the pasta. “It's not often we cook together, I couldn't simply allow you to get yourself hurt. You are the clumsiest woman I know, after all.” His tone was light, and though Tammy knew he was picking at her, she still pretended like she was hurt.

“The only thing that hurts is my heart. Do you have no faith in me, darling?” Staying busy cooking made it easy for her to not face him, to feign harm a little bit longer. A small sigh escaped her lips as the two of them continued to work on dinner together, cherishing the time they were spending together. It was these moments that she clung to the most, when they could just be themselves with nobody else watching. No expectations of the Baron and Reeve, no other Ventrue looking down at their soft, careful intimacy. He had always claimed that he wasn’t the romantic type, yet making valentines dinner together was his idea.

Tammy felt his arms reach around her midsection and him leaning into her from behind, leaving soft, gentle kisses in her hair. “I’m simply stating the truth, Tammy. You’re painfully unaware of your surroundings.” His voice was muffled, as he was still kissing her as he spoke and continued to do so even when Tammy playfully swat at his hands. “I can’t very well fault you for it, but your situational awareness needs work.” 

The smugness in his voice was clearly audible as Tammy shook her head and laughed. “And your social awareness needs work, dear.” She turned her head and got on the tips of her toes to leave a single kiss on his cheek before sliding out from under his grasp. “But of course, I can’t very well fault you for that.” More laughs and playful jabs were shared between the two as they turned back to their work, the lighthearted tenderness persisting as well. When there was nothing left to do but wait for the food to cook, Tammy slipped her hand into his, silently begging for the moment to continue for as long as it could.

[prrism]

Tiny Tot

(I know, not the most creative title but I’m trying here)

Summary: While you’ve slowly grown used to this strange phenomenon of people around the SMP being brought to you as child versions of themselves and being left in your care, there are times it surprises you…

Characters: Wilbur x Reader (feat. Quackity and Slimecicle)

Relationship: platonic

Pronouns: unspecified/kept neutral

You hum a soft tune to yourself as you till at the ground, prepping it for the fresh crop seeds you just obtained. You hear someone whistle for your attention and freeze for a second when you see Quackity looking completely unimpressed while his slimy friend was waving you over. You place your tools into your inventory as you approach the two of them.

“Ummm… hi. Fancy seeing you here.” You say once your close enough.

“Hello (y/n), from the meadow (I decided the reader lives in a sorta meadow biome) I hope you do not mind our intrusion.” Quackity’s slimy friend greets, still smiling and waving.

“No, you’re fine. Also, I don’t believe we’ve met before, how do you know my name?” You ask him.

“Never mind that!” Quackity quickly jumps in before his friend can answer. “Here, just take him off my hands.” Quackity near throws the thing, or rather person, he’s holding towards you. You’re thankful for your fast reflexes as you catch the very obvious child version of Wilbur, who’s laughing up a storm from the “game” of catch. You stare down at him for a few seconds before looking up at Quackity again.

“Do I want to know?” You ask hesitantly.

“Probably not.” He says curtly.

“Why not go to Phil? He is Wilbur’s dad after all.” You point out only to be given the dirtiest look from the casino owner.

“I don’t think Quackity, from Las Nevadas is fond of the location.” His friend pipes in again.

“Oh right! I sorta forgot about… that…” You trail off awkwardly, trying not to stare at his scar. “I can take it from here.” You quickly add.

“Good. Come on, Slime, let’s go.” With that Quackity turns to leave, his friend following close behind.

“But Quackity, from Las Nevadas I am not slime. I’m made of meat and bones like you…” Their conversation fades as they get father and farther away until you’re just left with a now squirming child in your arms.

“Alrighty Mr. Squirmy, let’s get you home to your dad.” You say.

“No!” He shouts, squirming more. This came as a small shock to you as so far anyone who was affected by this condition, yourself included, couldn’t really form words to talk resorting to making various sounds to convey feelings.

“I… okay, cool. I’ll take any form of easier communication… I guess.” You say still a little shocked. “Well… care to help me finish up in the fields?” You ask.

“Yeah!” He cheers in joy.

“Alright,” you chuckle, “now come on, you can plant the seeds while I till the ground.” You suggest, carrying Wilbur back to your previous place in the field, placing him down and passing him the pouch of seeds from your inventory. It was almost humorous seeing Wilbur waddling around, you being so used to seeing him as tall and lanky rather then short and stubby. It was going well at first you’d prep a spot and watch Wilbur pluck a few seeds out of the pouch to drop into the ground before burying it with a nice pat to the soil, however things took a quick turn when he discovered where you grow your sugarcane. Now it was a constant dash to stop him from either falling into the river or scooping handfuls of sand into his mouth, sometimes both at the same time. He whined when you finally decided enough was enough and carried him back inside.

“Nooooo!” He flails his arms around as if it’d help free him from your grasp, you sigh and place him down on the floor where he proceeds to flop onto his side in a grumpy huff.

“My goodness, how did Phil manage to raise you.” You playfully tease, silence being your only response. “What don’t feel like talking now?” More silence. Slightly amused but not exactly wanting him to stay grumpy you walk over to the shelf of music boxes, reminiscing on how you obtained each of them before finding the one you knew would perk up Wilbur’s mood… or at least you hoped it would.

“This is one of the first music boxes I ever got.” You say fondly, catching Wilbur sit up and slightly peek over his shoulder from the corner of your eye. “I know you don’t remember this right now but… you actually gave this one to me. It plays a plays a special song, wanna hear it?” You ask now properly looking at him. He gives a small, curious nod, you smile as you wind it up and let the melody play.

“I heard there was a secret chord~ That David played and it pleased the Lord~ But you don’t really care for music, do ya?~ Well it goes like this the forth, the fifth~ The minor fall and the major lift~ The baffled king composing hallelujah~ Hallelujah~ Hallelujah~ Hallelujah~ Hallelu-ujah…~” You pause a moment to see Wilbur completely enthralled by the music, inwardly you held in a small laugh, outwardly a soft expression rests on your face when you start the next part. “Well I heard there was a special place~ Where men could go and emancipate~ The brutality and tyranny of their ruler~ Well this place is real, we needn’t fret~ With Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, f- and all the rest~ It’s a very big and not blown up L’Manberg~ My L’Manberg~ My L’Manberg~ My L’Manberg~ My L’Ma-anberg~” You finish, having to scramble part way for more cleaner lyrics, Wilbur may technically be a grown adult, but even still there was no way you’d swear in front of a child. Regardless of that he did seem to really enjoy the song, having brightened up a lot more and attempting to sing along to the repeating melody himself.

You sit back on the couch to relax a little while Wilbur kept himself distracted, you were by no means dozing off, just taking a moment to stare into space and reminisce again on the past while the melody still played. You were happy to see Wilbur acting all happy and carefree again, rather then acting cynical and more or less careless, it’s been a long time since he looked like he was genuinely enjoying something.

“I can’t believe you actually kept this old thing.” The voice takes you off guard for a second, but then the scent of cigarettes hits your nose, making you scrunch up on instinct. Just how long were you staring at the ceiling for?

“It’s a nice memento, and it still plays really well. Why would I get rid of it?” You look back at Wilbur who shrugs as he turns the music box over in his hands.

“Because the past can find a way to haunt you if you’re not careful.” He sighs, his voice barely audible to you, as if the comment wasn’t meant for you to hear. “Well, it’s been lovely but I still have a business to run and a rival to compete with.” He quickly jumps back into his more casual tone, setting the music box down and strutting over to the door.

“Yeah, nice catching up with you too, I guess.” You roll your eyes and get up to leave yourself, seeing as you still had a few errands to do and you promised you’d meet up with Niki and Puffy later. You stop at the sudden hand placed on your shoulder, turning slightly to stare at Wilbur as he avoided your eye contact.

“I…” His grip tightening slightly and his mouth opening and closing like he wanted to say something but words failing to work, almost ironic how now was when he lost his ability to speak properly. “I’ll… see you around.” He manages to say before finally leaving. You weren’t sure what that was about but there was now a feeling of melancholy as you watched him disappear into the distance.

You shake yourself off and refocus, quickly checking the time before sending both Niki and Puffy a message that you might meet up with them a bit later then expected.

Hope you guys enjoy. Let me know who you’d like to see next, either through my inbox or a comment 😁

[cosmica-galaxy]

Goyall,jebus, crackpot and phobos react to a player that is a harpey? I don't mean the animal I mean the folklore that is a person that fell in love with a god/goddess/deity but the feelings weren't reciprocated turning them into a mostly bird person only thing human is the head.

Goyle: Goyle was used to many ragtag contestants coming onto his gameshow for an attempt at fame and glory in his cylinder of sin...but he had never seen this type of contestant before. They came in with a group of tagalongs, apparently leading the pack like a leader as they take charge over their entourage. Their kills were both graceful and magnificent. Their wings lifting them into the air and their claws snatching up prey like a hawk and dropping them into the blender apparatus on the arena. The crowd would even scream in awe as they fly past, their feathers bright and colorfully vibrate. Covered with blood and standing with their men proudly, the crowd goes wild with hoots and applause, and Goyle finds himself smiling underneath his mask. What an interesting contestant... Jebus: Jeb was a man of science and logic...but the Player was always far above his expectations in their means of what is logical. For instance, he has no idea what these 'mods' that the Player keeps talking about even are, but less to say he's surprised by their added "abilities". They were once 'human', but they now wear the identity of something called a 'harpy mod'. Their feathers made them look godlike, their voice like a songbird, and their talons as long and as sharp as any well-kept blade. The 'mod' merely added to their elegance and power and Jeb couldn't help but let the tempting thought of petting their feathers in his mind once or twice. He always shakes the ideas off, however. Still...he would love to learn more about these 'mods' if you would allow him to do so. Crackpot:

Crackpot was more than just a self-indicted messiah, he was the leader of the cult that he cultivated deep underneath nexus city. He was confident in his 'rights of passage' and 'those who would float' as Nevada sinks. But one day his lucrative view was challenged when the Player graced his presence in a form that never walked nor floated...but flew. It was the highest form of elevation among mortals that needed machines to take to the skies. But the Player's form shirked the need of grunt-made vehicles and the bright and colorful feathers that covered their body, defying the dull colors and tints that surrounded them. They stood with the two intruders, eyes tight and fierce and talons prepped to rip and tear into those lesser than them... And Crackpot became enthralled. Phobos: Phobos has always revered the Player as a being above all else in Nevada. They were above such needs that mere mortals had. They had no need for money, fame, or materials. They simple hailed as they were, pure and uncorrupted by the filth that ravaged Nevada's landscape. Seeing them in person, however, spurred another emotion that wasn't merely envy and awe from within Phobos. Seeing such a regal being standing next to the Auditor as the Nexus meeting begins to unfold, the director was speechless. The feathers that covered their body and the long threatening claws that extended from their feet radiated the power that he knew they were capable of wielding. But the form didn't take the face of his god...and Phobos could only stare at them as the meeting continued. His single eye scanning them in interest as his mind struggled to process the possibility of his god wielding multiple forms.

[usafphantom2]

More tankers, E-7s, and better comms: lessons from Air Force’s Red Flag

The exercise featured U.S. Navy Carrier Strike Group Carl Vinson.

Audrey DeckerAugust 17, 2023

U.S. Navy Aviation Structural Mechanic Petty Officer 3rd Class Tyler Ritchie assigned to the Electronic Attack Squadron (VAQ) 138, Naval Air Station Whidbey Island, Washington, prepares an EA-18G Growler for a Red Flag 23-3 mission at Nellis Air Force Base, Nevada, July 18, 2023.

The latest iteration of the U.S. Air Force’s Red Flag wargame revealed some kinks to be worked out before the service can fully interoperate with the U.S. Navy in the Indo-Pacific region.

The air combat exercise, which ran from July 17 to August 4, started at Nellis Air Force Base and extended hundreds of miles off the California coast. It included a Navy carrier strike group—and that was useful, said Lt. Col. Andrew Stevens, deputy commander of the 414th Combat Training Squadron during Red Flag 23-3.

“What we learned from it, what we can improve—that's all about coordination between the operational [command and control] on the Navy side and going through down to get that coordinated list of requirements to the tactical operator on the Air Force side so that we can layer in timing, coordinated effects, as well as basically sorting out the targeting so that we can be as efficient as possible with our low-inventory, high-value weapons systems,” Stevens said.

However, the Air Force still needs more training before it can fully interoperate with the Navy, he said.

“Right now, I think that we're only education and training away from being functional, if not optimized. So I think that whenever we were talking in terms of the plan, everybody kind of understands exactly what the other agencies need and want to do, we just need to see it more in training to smooth out some of those little wrinkles,” Stevens said.

Related articles

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A Pacific fight will also require better-equipped tankers, Stevens said.

“I'd say the first critical capability that I would think of is our tanker roster, so how many tankers we have, how reliable they are, and I would want to increase the amount of comms-suite capability on those tankers to build out long-range bridges for our line-of-sight comms to enable redundancy to our space-enabled comms,” Stevens told Defense One.

Another must-have: multiple survivable next-gen command-and-control aircraft—i.e., the E-7 Wedgetail currently in development by Boeing, Stevens said.

“I would like to see a constellation of E-7s,” Stevens said. “I not only want a single E-7 out in the [battle]space—I want three, minimally.”

Pentagon officials have said they need E-7s to handle airborne domain awareness and to maintain air superiority in the Pacific region as they retire E-3 Sentry AWACS-carrying radar planes. Lawmakers who agree have been pushing the service to accelerate the program, which is currently slated to deliver the first test E-7 in 2027.

Another large part of the exercise was recreating enemy threats for pilots to train against. Nellis reactivated its F-35 aggressor squadron last year, and in May stood up a new F-16 aggressor squadron to replicate enemy threats. Both aggressor squadrons participated in Red Flag—using tactics based on intel on adversary capabilities to accurately recreate “what’s a realistic and relevant threat,” Stevens said.

While he couldn’t detail the exact threats aggressor squadrons recreated, Stevens said they were “the most technologically advanced adversary assets that we project potentially having to engage depending on our civilian leadership's request.”

They also trained against “aggressor naval surface vessels”—aka U.S. vessels pretending to be Chinese ships. “So that helps us practice those [tactics, techniques, and procedures] for countering advanced surface capabilities over the water,” Stevens said.

Stevens said future iterations of Red Flag will continue to feature its sister service.

“I can tell you definitively that our efforts are to continue the Navy integration and over-water counter maritime TTPs for the foreseeable future in Red Flag,” Stevens said.

[disease-danger-darkness-silence]

I'm rereading the Meet Death Sitting series by @bomberqueen17 because I never read the side stories and, let me tell you, it is surreal remembering that a lot of these were written during the early days of the 2020 part of the COVID pandemic. It took me back. I was so scared during those days, and angry.

When the lockdown went into effect (and Nevada was one of the first ones to implement it), my sister was in prison for a nonviolent, first-time offense: embezzling from a multi-billion dollar international gaming company. So... Unjustifiably, imo. I think theft crimes should be weighted by who you stole from and how much it effected them. And frankly, they weren't paying her enough to survive on, and she supervised TWO sports books.

She got sentenced in January and for some reason couldn't appeal, and then lockdown happened in March.

They were doing NOTHING for the prisoners.

She was in the Las Vegas prison doing hard labor in 125°+ weather and they weren't even providing a decent amount of calories to eat each day, let alone masks and hand sanitizer. She lost 100 lbs in prison, in a deeply unhealthy way.

A woman with a mental instability smuggled in a razor blade that she would hold in her cheek, next to her teeth, and when Ashley reported it, they did nothing. Ashley got transferred to a different bloc at some point because she was going to be doing food service work (she has a culinary education), but someone did get hurt by that woman. No consequences came for any of the COs (correction officers) or the warden.

Oh, and then they yanked Ash out of food prep and into heavy labor. Not sure why, because we got her records and there's no citations or anything on there. They just did it. I'm PERSONALLY assuming it's because I was calling daily demanding to talk to the warden or the supervisor on duty to demand better treatment. FFS, they were feeding them grade B, not fit for human consumption food. I was calling everyone I could think of and generally making a nuisance of myself, during a global pandemic, and while advocating for Ashley I also began advocating for her fellow prisoners. I wrote to the governor. I wrote to the Nevada Department of Corrections. I spent 8 hours a day harassing state officials (and politely talking to state workers who don't get paid enough for this shit), and I'm pretty sure her getting hard labor was punishment for her daring to have someone on the outside willing to make life a living hell for themselves and others for her.

We all nearly bankrupted ourselves keeping money on her books so she could buy extra food and special soap because she has a skin condition and they just give you harsh lye soap (no shampoo, no conditioner) at the Florence McClure Women's Correctional Center. She has an IUD that stops her periods so luckily she didn't need tampons the whole time she was there, because they ration them and if you need more, you'd better have some money to buy shitty dollar store ones at Target prices! (IIRC Ashley took her allotment and shared them around.)

We illegalized private prisons in Nevada a few years back but they acted like they still were one. You had to work or you couldn't apply for parole. They sold dollar store products at a massive markup. They didn't give her medical care for all but the last month or two she was there, and that meant she didn't have her ANTIDEPRESSANTS for most of the time. She was suicidal and depressed and anxious and most of all, she missed her daughter - my niece, who got displaced to live with my sister's ex-husband, who is an alcoholic, abusive bastard who supports Trump and used to make Ashley set an alarm on her phone so he'd remember when to beat her. That's who my niece had to go live with. He was mostly sober by then, but she was clearly miserable and every time she came to stay with Mom for visitation, she didn't want to go back.

Ashley spent 10 months in there before getting parole in mid October of 2020 - for a first-time embezzling offense that was the equivalent of stealing $5 or $10 from someone in the middle class. (Also adding, the Gaming Board DID NOT ASK for imprisonment, they wanted her on probation so she could get a job and do restitution. The guy who talked her into it? The abuser who found a domestic violence victim and manipulated her? He got probation, and it was his fourth gaming offense.)

The entire time, I was organizing book drives and fundraisers and harassing state officials to do something - some of you remember this, because some of you helped by sending her books and money, and I still cannot thank you enough. To this day, I go to bed every night thankful for you all.

But I was spending my daylight hours, and a lot of my nighttime hours, trying to fight for her. Her voice wasn't being heard so I would damn well amplify it.

A lot of the women there shouldn't have been. Nonviolent drug offenses that clearly needed psychiatric care and not imprisonment. A woman who killed her husband in self defense, caught on tape, but still imprisoned. Another woman who's boyfriend was dealing meth and she got the guilt by association thing - never came up dirty, complied in every way, and they threw the book at her. Prison should be for 1st and 2nd degree murderers, rapists, violent abusers, torturers, organized criminals, people who molest and groom children. Not these women. It was heartbreaking. I knew it was bad, but now I had secondhand experience and I would never wish that on anyone but the most heinous of human beings.

I had nightmares almost every night that Ashley would catch COVID and die, or that she'd figure out a way to kill herself. I didn't wake Raven (my partner, for those who may have forgotten) when I had them. I just read a little bit of fic, and then cried myself back to sleep.

_____________

I don't know that I ever thanked @bomberqueen17. She's been through a lot the last few years (including something I can empathize with - a parent death. I miss my dad terribly. It's been 7 and a half years and I still feel his loss). But... I never thanked her for getting me through 2020 in mostly one piece.

It was her fics that I read when I woke up after a nightmare. It was her fics that I read in the mornings as I woke up, drank coffee or an energy drink, and got my day started to begin campaigning against Nevada's DOC. It was her fics that calmed me down in between calls and it was her fics I read to keep from crying when my sister called me. I'd read excerpts to her (she hadn't seen the Witcher yet but she still laughed at the right spots) and I'd try to keep her cheered up by telling her about fandom stuff.

Like yes, I read other fics and authors. But it was her fics that made a difference and, I think, are the reason Ashley and I were fortified enough to fight for her rights.

So.... A very belated thank you, @bomberqueen17. I don't know that I could have survived that, in addition to everything else 2020 threw at us, without your writing.

Also thank you for this very succinct explanation of why significant age gaps can sometimes present a problem, in a way that isn't denigrating to those with youth. I've been trying to explain it to my 23-year-old for years, and others, but now I will just use this.

You're the best. I can't wait to read the rest of the series.

[dissentdisdain]

high school best friends

her name is denise. we met freshman year, 2015

she was my buddy. that's what we called eachother.

she sat behind me in spanish class

and i remember us both being emo

her, with her red crystal necklace

heavy black eyeliner

big dark brown eyes

dark brown short hair

skinny jeans, denim jacket

me with my dark eyeliner

side swept bangs

wearing the same purple hoodie

with my regular leggings.

we were both shy, quiet, reserved

me, a virgo

her, a capricorn

us both understanding the nature of the other's personality.

but we became extroverted in the presence of one another.

one time, we were playing with tape on our hands

and we couldn't stop laughing at how weird it looked.

on halloween night 2015

after hours of laughing, exploring her neighborhood

we sat in front of the mirror with our eyeliner pencils and candy

while she so casually said

"i think you'll like this band, they're really good"

before she played "chasing ghosts" by the amity affliction

but little did she know that they would become

my absolute favorite band, and still hold that title,

9 years later.

unfortunately, may 2016

i chose to move back out east to stay with my mom

and i found out she had to move to arizona for her stepdad's job

so our connection slowly turned digital

shortly after i got on the plane and left nevada.

late 2016

i started to date a girl by the name of brittany online

someone who was bad for me, someone i was bad for

and denise eventually became tired of me complaining

so one afternoon as i stood by a tree in my front yard

the humidity difficult to handle

i looked down at my kik messages

and saw denise explain how she couldn't do it anymore

how she was tired of me prioritizing my girlfriend

never talking to her, unless it was to complain.

we stopped talking after that...

until 2018.

i was back in nevada at my father's house

and we decided to video chat over instagram

she sat outside on her steps in the desert

still looking the same as she did, years prior.

reminiscing about the times we sat at the glass table in her backyard

hanging out in the library, laughing at weird book titles

talking about the girls we thought were cute in our classes

or the weird jock dudes who tried to hit on her

the times we would walk eachother to class

the time we went to a prep rally and thought it was lame

so we sat outside in the lounge area and talked about random things.

we laughed, we caught up like nothing happened.

and when the call ended, we drifted apart once again.

today, however

i saw her post her reading corner photo on her story

i sent her a message, saying "Adorable!!!"

and she responded with

"I hope ur doing okay buddy I miss you. And wish you the best!

and now i am lying in this bed, the past flowing in

thinking of how our friendship was real

yet i discarded her over some girl who left me in the dirt.

she still lives in arizona, while im in ohio

i have so much hatred and fear over planes

but if i had the money

i would hop on a plane to see her.

i miss you, denise

i hope that one day we can rekindle the fragments of what we had.