#SUPERIOR SUPER BOWL

[tail-feathers]

Kawaiisu Basket Bowl

The stepped radial design of this exquisitely-woven basketry bowl, with red bands of yucca root bounded by a double-border of black-dyed bulrush, is characteristic of the Kawaiisu basketweavers of the Tehachapi Valley region of Kern County, California.

[akookminsupporter]

ARE YOU SURE?!: SEVENTH EPISODE

MY IMPRESSIONS

Preface: This is not an analysis post, and honestly, I don’t want to overanalyse their interactions or everything they said and did—many others are already doing that. My intention with this post is simply to share my thoughts on the episodes, my impressions, and perhaps my conclusions.

I’m writing this as I watch the episodes for the second time.

Ah, I don’t want this to end! It feels like these 6 weeks flew by. 

Jungkook feeling hot in a cold place is so me. 

Jimin looks great with his natural hair colour. I like Jimin’s grey hair, but his natural colour will always be superior, especially with the length he had in this episode. 

Jimin and Jungkook trying to remember if Jimin had ever gone snowboarding with Jungkook before is funny because they were really trying to figure out if it was true, but at the same time, it shows just how many things they’ve done together that it’s natural for them to think snowboarding might have been one of them. 

Jungkook’s look of confusion when Jimin said he’d actually gone snowboarding with Jungkook’s friends, without Jungkook, is also funny. But also, Jimin went snowboarding with Jungkook’s friends—without Jungkook? And it's worth noting Jimin said “Jungkook’s friends”, not “our friends”. We know Jimin is close with several, if not all, of the 97-line members, but it’s nice to know they’re close enough to hang out without Jungkook. If Jimin was talking about those friends, of course.

I don’t know, but something tells me Jimin really likes ‘Standing Next to You’. Though I can’t be sure.  I also can’t be sure, but I have a hunch that Jimin really likes the song ‘Hate You’. Just a feeling. 

I don’t think there’s been an episode where I haven’t mentioned that Jungkook’s biggest ship is with food, hahaha. Why is Jimin always looking for Jungkook in supermarkets? Hahahaha. 

Jungkook being a bit baffled about why Jimin was listening to one of his best songs is honestly offensive, hahaha. Jimin’s slightly defensive reply about whether there was a problem with him listening to the song, and Jungkook’s equally defensive response just wanting to know why he was listening to it, is peak Jikook comedy. 

Look, I think every Jikooker out there has said a thousand times that the world needs an official song from Jimin and Jungkook. But seriously, the world needs an official song from Jimin and Jungkook. Their voices blend so well together. Their harmonisation is glorious, and their voices are differently similar—if that makes sense. They really should record a song or even an album together. 

That hotel is incredible. Someone invited me there. I love hearing Jimin and Jungkook speak in satoori. Honestly, that hotel room is amazing. It looks like an apartment. I can’t even imagine how much a night there costs. It’s moments like these that remind me that these guys are millionaires and their agency has loads of money too, haha. 

Of course, Jungkook cut his own hair. Of course, he did. That’s so Jungkook. Jin would be proud too, hahaha. The staff taking photos of Jungkook because he looked cute with his new haircut is just too cute, haha. In the photo the staffer took, Jungkook looked super young! The power of the bowl cut, hahaha. 

Okay but Jimin’s luck… something always seems to happen to him at every location on this show, hahaha. 

Was Jimin really the loser of that game considering he initially wanted to eat the gimbap? Also, when did Jungkook lose a game that he had to take a bite of the gimbap? 

ohh, didn’t Jungkook say in Connecticut that he wanted to play card games when they went to Jeju but they didn’t? Is that why he bought the stack of cards? I choose to believe that’s the reason. 

And then we get to them and their first… bath together. Jungkook started by asking if they were going to bathe there, and Jimin then said they should turn off the camera, which makes sense, but then, did they bathe together? I mean, actually, wash with soap and everything? Interesting. The camera is turned on who knows how many minutes or hours later, and you can see other products or bottles that weren’t there initially, as well as what I presume is a sweater...? After that, it’s just Jimin and Jungkook being Jimin and Jungkook. Those two are hilariously weird in the best possible way. 

Have I ever told you how much I love Jimin’s tattoos? Especially the ones on his back. 

Ah, Jungkook making sure Jimin felt the same cold breeze as him is just too cute. 

Look, I’ve seen a lot of people describe what happened in that bath—or whatever it was—as Jimin and Jungkook matching each other’s freak, but honestly, I’d describe it as men being men. It’s moments like these that remind me they’re just guys, hahaha. Only a guy would put themselves through that kind of torture for no reason. Yes, yes, I know there are supposed benefits to cold baths, but come on, they didn’t really need to do that. 

Okay, so apparently Jimin told Jungkook to hug him once so he could feel how cold it was. My question is, was that necessary? 

THE V! JIMIN’S V LINES! Oh my god. The V, the tattoos, the blonde hair. The man is the complete package. 

Seriously, guys. Men! 

Jungkook’s body is… WOW. He’s got a swimmer’s body. He’s muscular, low on fat, and still looks slim. With a very slim and enviable waist. It’s not fair. The guy has too many attributes already, hahaha. Jimin is a lighter version of Jungkook, but he also has muscles and those V lines—definitely worth mentioning. 

I don’t know if the staff could hear them, but what they “imagined” those guys were saying in the sauna seems pretty accurate, haha. 

Hey, Jimin said when they left the sauna that they should wash up before going to dinner, but didn’t they already do that when they turned off the cameras? I don’t understand.

Jimin and Jungkook suddenly trying to do the ‘Dynamite’ choreography makes total sense. It's Jikook after all.

Going to dinner in your pyjamas is the dream, hahaha. They really have the same sense of humour. They laugh at the tiniest things the other does, and you can tell they genuinely find it funny.

 Jimin and Jungkook basically travelled to three different places just to eat. There’s no better way to spend the agency’s money, hahaha. Good for them.

Something I’m still not sure about is whether Jungkook loved being in Sapporo. I don’t know, it didn’t seem like he mentioned it much in these two episodes. Let’s hope it’s clearer in the last one.

Maybe it’s just my imagination, but did Jimin drop a hint to Jungkook about giving him a massage, or did I put on my tinhat and miss it?

Jimin and Jungkook must be unbearable in private. Seriously, that’s something I’d love to see, them with their friends, without cameras. What are they like?

Okay, so Jimin first said he needed to brush his teeth, and then we see Jungkook with a toothbrush in his mouth saying ‘Come brush my teeth with me’. Did he say that to the camera, I mean, to us? But then suddenly Jimin appears. Where was he, on the floor? Jimin and I share the same level of laziness when it comes to getting something, Hahaha. Taking a photo together while brushing their teeth. Okay. They really kept memories of everything.

Washing up again?! Didn’t they already do that? Twice, apparently?! How could Jungkook forget that in a matter of hours, I’m sure?!

Aww, Jungkook saying goodnight to the cameras is just too cute. They’re such good boys. I remember in the last episode, Jimin mentioned that Jungkook has the ability to annoy people or something like that, and no one knows it better than Jimin. It’s incredible how patient he can be with Jungkook, hahaha. Of course, Jimin isn’t a saint either, because he can also annoy Jungkook at times. They really click.

Jungkook feeling hot in a cold place is so me. He’s my spirit animal, haha. And him looking for something to eat right after waking up is a MOOD.

Okay, but was Jimin fighting with some insect in the bathroom? Hahaha. Jungkook continuing to eat as if nothing’s happening is a mood.

Mmmm, did they shower together again? Interesting. Jungkook’s priority was definitely the food he bought and couldn’t eat.

Was that whole conversation about being excited correct? I mean, the translation, and if it was, why did it seem like they were talking about something else? Why do many of the things they say seem like they’re talking about something different? Why are they like this? Jimin and Jungkook bickering in the sweetest, funniest way has been one of my favourite things about the show.

Model Jimin! Jimin looked particularly stunning in the car on the way to the slopes.

There’s a popular edit of Jimin that says he doesn’t hold or grab things, he hugs them. I think the edit is mainly about Jimin hugging flower bouquets, but I think it applies to everything, including snowboards, hahaha. He’s just too cute.

I think, I think Jungkook was happy about going snowboarding, I think, I’m not entirely sure.

The juxtaposition of Jimin and Jungkook learning to snowboard and ski is just too funny.

It’s good to know Jimin doesn’t discriminate about the ground he falls on, hahaha. Jungkook really just needs a short time to learn something. Honestly, it’s unfair. Jimin is also excellent at picking things up quickly. That also seems unfair.

MY CONCLUSIONS ON THE SEVENTH EPISODE.

I loved it! Not surprisingly.

I know I’ve repeated this a lot, but I love the format of this show. It’s more relaxed. More chill with the vibe and nothing else. It’s much more domestic, more every day in a way. I know I’ve said this a lot in all my posts, but I love how relaxed Jimin and Jungkook are. I love that, even though they were technically working, they were actually relaxing. They were on a proper holiday because it felt like a normal holiday, with no pressure or expectations, just playing, enjoying cool activities, and eating. Eating a lot.

I love and especially appreciate that AYS has shown us a slightly different side of Jimin and Jungkook’s dynamic. More playful and even more every day, I think. It’s lovely to see how comfortable they are with each other, and even though they didn’t go into depth about it and probably won’t in the future, you understand why they chose to enlist together. They really get each other. They’re really similar. And that’s important.

I really love that they managed to do so many things on this show. That they had multiple holidays and, most of all, that they had them in the middle of their busy schedules. I’m glad they had those moments to laugh, enjoy, and just be happy. And I’m glad they created all those memories together.

I can’t wait for the last episode, but at the same time, I don’t want next Thursday to come because it will mean it’s all over and, like them, we’ll only have the memories we made watching them create their own memories.

As a fan, not only of Jikook but of Jimin and Jungkook, I’m infinitely grateful to them for doing this for us. I’m sure they deserve the sky and the stars; it’s the least the sun and the moon deserve, after all.

If you’ve made it this far, I’m sorry and thank you—I just couldn’t stop writing ajajajajaja.

[arkhamjack]

CW for gore and suicidal ideation (TriMax Vol. 7) also Spoiler warning!

EDIT: I am a drama queen and just assume a lot of Trimax readers misinterpreted this scene bc I saw like only two people do it but I’m also using this as an excuse to yap about Vash and Knives’ personalities bc it was super interesting in this volume ok byyeee read on:

Is it just me or is the majority of the fandom under the impression that it was Knives who stabbed Rem?? Because it was actually Vash. Which I think says a lot about their actual personalities vs how the fandom perceives them.

Analysis under the cut!

In classic Nightow fashion, it's hard to figure out wtf is going on and you gotta read over it multiple times, but look:

After the discovery of Tesla, Knives faints and is placed in a little incubator thing or whatever and Vash laments the fact he remained awake to mull over the horrors. From this point on, Knives is not in the picture bc he's busy honk mimimi (which is actually something he employs as a coping mechanism throughout the story... his precious beauty sleep...)

Now, Vash is refusing to eat and lashes out at Rem, expressing his disdain for being stuck on a spaceship with all these nasty humans.

Rem once again tries to get Vash to eat, peeling him a fruit.

Vash lunges for the knife and attempts to stab himself, but Rem stops him.

Vash is locked in a reactive state - he's in shock and acting out. This is where I think ppl miss the mark in interpreting the twins and why Vol. 7 is so important.

Vash can actually be nasty as hell. He ain't all that babygirl. His silly goofy facade is a way of integrating himself into the human world sure - but it's also lying to himself. He's impulsive, stubborn, and dare I say arrogant with his Messianic martyr type shit. (EDIT: I’m being a bit harsh here… I mean yeah he’s the only person on Gunsmoke who’s got a chance against Knives but like getting up in townspeople’s business gets really annoying imo like I understand why he does it but man…that’s why we’ve got Wolfwood bc narrative foil and whatever… anyway)

Knives on the other hand, internalises everything. Though he may appear to be the one who lashes out, and yes of course he's also arrogant, but it's mostly projection. He is in a MAD state of denial. For all his talk of being a superior being, that humans are icky and should all perish, yada yada yada, he actually wishes for love and acceptance - he wants to be safe.

Obviously, his head is too far up his ass to admit it, and he's always too busy tweaking about how annoying Vash is and blaming Rem for everything to actually try and sit down and think of better ways to do things but ANYWAY

(You know who else's head is up their ass? Vash. The twins are actually so alike if you really study them!! Anywayyyy)

That was Knives' whole deal from THE VERY BEGINNING. Knives was the one to cry in relief when Conrad and the crew accepted them, not Vash. Vash was more like "ok cool! life might not be so bad! yipee!" and then Knives had to Big Fall about his internalised plantphobia or whatever etc etc.

I AM GETTING SIDETRACKED !! ok so

The stabbing occurs. Again, hard to tell it's actually occurring bc Nightow, but yeah Vash stabbed Rem. Not Knives! Bro has passed out for a couple days now lol.

More evidence it's Vash - Vash was the one to express feeling suicidal. Knives cannot express anything to save his life bc he's the king of internalisation and deflection and projection lmao. Also yeah he's still eeping.

Oh look! He rises! Completely unaware of the drama that has unfolded! Not that he'd care! He's set on a mission to hurl humanity to the dust bowl of Gunsmoke! Little scamp.

Ok take from all that what you will!

Thanks for reading <3

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Handing Out Candy With Hangman

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin X FemReader

Rating: T+

Warnings: Suggestive themes, steam

Word Count: 1k

Taglist: @chaoticassidy @the-marshals-wife @hotch-meeeeeuppppp​ 

The doorbell was ringing again as you peeled yourself from Hangman’s embrace. He glared at the door in disgust as you tried to straighten your clothes before grabbing the candy bowl.

  “Trick or treat,” the group of costumed children greeted holding open half full bags.

“You guys look awesome,” you said taking handfuls of candy and placing them in each bag.

“Happy Halloween,” you called while a chorus of ‘thank you’ came from the retreating children. Hangman was leaning back still glaring nastily.

“Can we turn off the porch light now,” he asked in a huff. “No. I still have a half full bowl and two more bags of candy in the kitchen,” you answered used to his tantrums.

“We’ll eat it,” he tried. He’d been really clingy this evening and you had yet to put your finger on what was causing this sudden bout of neediness.

“Oh no,” you snorted sitting back down. “Your superiors would be super mad at me if you couldn’t squeeze into the cockpit anymore because of Halloween candy.”

He laughed nuzzling into your neck while you were preparing to hit play of the movie you were barely watching and Hangman was ignoring completely. You hadn’t gotten comfy just yet when the doorbell ran again. You jolted upwards causing Hangman to lose his temper a little. He cursed and you shushed him.

“Shut up Jake,” you snarled. “There’s kids at the door.”

He always knew he was in serious trouble if you used his name instead of his callsign. You handed out several more handfuls of candy to the trick or treaters before taking the bowl in the kitchen for a refill.

You were not happy with him at the moment and needed a moment to cool off. Hangman watched you leave knowing that if he didn’t do something quick he was going to be in the doghouse for the rest of tonight and most of tomorrow. He listened to you shuffling around in the kitchen to open another bag of treats. He sat there for several moments before easing his way into the next room.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized not wanting to fight on Halloween. He was about to say something else when the doorbell rang again. You sniffed trying to tamp down the sudden emotions. Hangman took the candy bag from your hand. “Go take care of them and I’ll get this bag open for you.”

You nodded before picking the bowl back up and taking it to the front door. Your demeanor changed at the large group of small children. You cooed and fawned over them, especially when a few of them mustered up the courage to hug you in a thank you. Now that he had a different view Hangman really enjoyed seeing you interact with the children for the first time. Sure he had seen you answer the door from his position on the couch, but all he could think about was that you weren’t in his arms lavishing affection on him. But now as he saw from a different angle his heart began to hammer in his chest and something stirred in his gut. You both had been married for a couple years now and this was really the first Halloween he was getting to spend with you. That’s why he was a little jealous by your attention being taken from him. You were used to handing out candy and you loved it, being able to see all the children and giving them a treat to enjoy.

 He begun to think about kids of his own with you. Little Seresins running around calling you momma and him daddy. He shook his head, heating up a little to where it would be embarrassing to hide if he couldn’t control himself and his thoughts. You stood back up closing the door after telling them goodbye when you returned to the kitchen in a slightly better mood.

“Apology accepted,” you said. “Now fill it up and go watch the movie and I’ll go sit outside since you can’t behave yourself.”

“I’ll sit outside with you,” he blurted. “I want to help hand out candy.”

“Is that so,” your eyebrow raised. “All night all you’ve wanted to do was try to get my candy.”

He chuckled, “I can’t help you’re so beautiful.”

“Charmer.”

True to his word Hangman did go outside and sit with you to watch the passing families. It was a lot more fun outside he had to admit. Especially as you nuzzled against him for warmth. The stars began to flicker quietly in the blackened skies and you handed candy with gusto. Hangman intertwined his fingers in yours, his thoughts of children of his own came back.

  “Hey,” he started, “what do you think about kids?”

“Hmm,” you thought looking at him. “I think their adorable. Especially in their little costumes. I mean one was dressed as a hot dog!”

He chuckled kissing you on the cheek, “What about kids of our own?”

You almost dropped the bowl but clumsily catching it to where only a few pieces fell. Hangman picked them up placing them back inside the bowl. “I’d be lying if I didn’t say I didn’t dream about it,” you blushed unable to look at him.

“Do you wanna try,” he asked now clearly embarrassed as well. Your fingers fumbled with the rim of the candy bowl. Excitement and terror warred inside your mind and heart. Sometimes Hangman could be so forward it left you speechless, but you figured that after knowing him and being married to him for so long would make you used to it.

“I,” you started trembling but not from the cold. “I would. I would like that a lot.”

“Next kid gets all the candy,” he purred licking under your ear making you squeak. True to his word Hangman dumped all the candy into the next kid’s bag that came along before whisking you inside where he slammed the door shut and locked it. He turned the porch light off and all the lights downstairs. You had a few night lights in the hallway so neither one of you would trip in the night. Jake was more than ready to start working on the next generation of Seresins. Needless to say his Halloween was full of treats.

[ponyosmom35]

friendly debates

Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Liability series chapter 9!

summary: debating with Soap at the dinner table makes even Ghost laugh.

warnings: none, super fluffy

Liability masterlist:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

“Dogs are superior by a longshot. They have more personality when it comes to their breed, and not every dog is the same. Some are really friendly and kind, and others will maul you to death. Cats are just... Cats” Soap explains, watching her eyes widen in response to him. The pair had been arguing about this for ten minutes when Gaz had mentioned his partner wanting to get a pet. Which he now regretted bringing up. 

“are you shitting me Johnny? what are you even saying! all dogs are the exact same, they love you, they follow you around, they need you. Cats each have distinct personalities, never met two similar in my life!”

“That's where you're wrong. Dogs all have different personalities Cats are the exact same. They all act like little shits, they look at you, meow, and then claw up your stuff and destroy it. Plus, dogs aren't dicks like cats are.”

“All of the dogs I had growing up were the same, they're lovable don't get me wrong! But they chose their person and they love them, you don't have to work for it. With a cat you've got to earn their respect and their love, it's something you have to work for, meaning its more worthwhile to own a cat” she defends

“They make you earn their trust and affection because they are the true assholes. Dogs are way better than cats”

Kyle makes eye contact with Price and Ghost as they enter the room, he runs over and grabs them “you guys gotta hear this” 

“sometimes they are assholes, I'll admit it. But that's personality baby! I swear one day I'm gonna have like five cats” she says, trying to keep her cool as Price and Ghost sit down next to them. She glances at Ghost sitting across from her and qucikly looks back to Johnny.

“I hate cats. I swear if you get a cat I'm gonna go apeshit on you”

“are you asking me to chose between you and the cats?”

“Yes, that's exactly what I'm asking”

“cats every time” she answers without hesitation, causing the table to erupt in laughter. All but one, smiling at her antics. 

“Damn. You're brutal” Kyle comments 

“don't fuck with me about cats suds! I warned you when you brought it up” She says pointing at Soap. Price laughs at her choice of nickname. 

“I'm telling ya, some of these cats are just the absolute bane of my existence. Especially when you have your hands full and they jump up on top of you and just dig their claws into you. It's torture”

“I'm sorry is the sergeant mactavish really comparing a cat to literal torture?” She asks as she giggles “you’re admtting that you’re afraid of little kitty cats? All you’ve done is give me ideas” 

“You wouldn't dare..., no. Anything but those cats, I beg of you”

“too late you've already gone too far” she shrugs 

“Noooooooooo! Have mercy, you devil!”

“funny” she responds, picking up a strand of her ginger hair. The men around her laugh loudly.

“Okay enough about cats, how about this, is soup cereal?” Gaz asks egging them on.

“Soup? I think it's more like a savory form of cereal” Soap nods, answering simply. 

“what the fuck did you just say? are you insane?” she asks

“It's literally a bowl, of liquid, and you eat it. That's just savory cereal”

“Johnny I am seriously questioning your sanity right now” she says seriously 

“You're questioning my sanity for calling soup a savory cereal? It is literally savory cereal.”

“okay repeat yourself one more time”

“Soup. Is. Savory. Cereal.” he says, earning a laugh from Ghost himself. 

“you're psychotic! soup is hot, cereal isn't”

“Soup can be hot, but it doesn't have to be. Do you think cold soup doesn't exist?”

“name literally one” she demands 

“Cold tomato soup.”

“Johnny tomato soup isn't cold” Price interjects “I've drank cold canned tomato soup” Soap shrugs 

“Thats disgusting” she cringes 

“Soup is savory cereal, LT what do you say? Back me up on this” Soap says wrapping an arm around Ghost’s shoulder. 

“You out of your right fuckin mind if you think soup is cereal” Ghost states causing the entire table to erupt in laughter. She smiles to herself as Soap continues to defend himself, clearly seeing out numebred he was. She makes eye contact with Ghost once again, accidently as their legs brush against eachtoher. She utters an apology and holds her hands to her cheeks, resting on them as she attmpets to hide her blushing face. 

Simon sits back with his arms crossed as he pretends to listen to the ridiclous claims the sergeant was making. He couldn’t help but look at her, he watched as she argued so passioantly about the simple topics. She was funny, a side he hadn’t seen from her before. She was charming, and sarcastic and quick witted. He’d always wondered why his teammates seemed to love her so much, now he understood the appeal. She was interesting, and she could hold her own. Still feeling bad about his behavior last week, he decides that he would apoligize. She didn’t deserve it.

chapter 10:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/734021889324974080/ghost-to-the-rescue?source=share

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Breeding the Winter Soldier"

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 7893

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: a/b/o, Omega Bucky, Alpha Steve, Hydra wins, dark AU, forced mating, breeding program, coerced sex, restraints, heats/ruts, forced to fuck, past Bucky x Brock, HTP adjacent, mind control, anal sex, hurt/comfort (mostly comfort)

A.N.: this was written all the way back in 2017!

Breeding the Winter Soldier

“Looks like they gave Cap his assignment,” Rollins chuckles from where he’s sitting, boots propped up on the observation room’s control panel. “Doesn’t seem too happy about being told he’s gotta breed ‘im.”

Brock scoffs lightly, unable to help himself from lighting up out of frustration as he stares through the one-way glass window at their prisoner. Smoking isn’t allowed inside the facility, but that’s never stopped Brock. “This is bullshit,” he complains around the cigarette between his lips, tossing the spent match to the floor as he gets a good first lungful of nicotine. Beyond the window, Captain fucking America—or what used to be Captain America— is pacing, pacing, pacing, distressed at the news. Brock seethes quietly. “Project Genesis is mine. He was supposed to be mine.”

And now Steven Grant Rogers is the one they want instead. The superior choice, apparently, for siring little super-soldiers. Brock had broken whatever he’d been holding when he’d first heard the order come down—a coffee mug, he thinks it was. The order strictly reassigned him as handler only to the asset, the one to supervise the project. Supervise. Brock cringes at the restriction of the word. He’s been the asset’s commanding officer for going on five years now. Unofficially, he’s been his alpha for two. He’s the one who knows the asset, understands him. He’s the only one who knows how to make him work right, how to get through to him. He’s the one who cares about him, who satisfies him through his heats. And now Hydra is forcing him to give that all away?

His mate is going to be so confused.

Rollins tells him to chill. “I’m sure they’ll still let you fuck around with him once he’s pupped a few litters.”

“That’s not the fucking point!” Brock roars, angry but not at Rollins. Jack seems to know this, as he doesn’t move at all from his lazy posture in the chair. “He’s my omega. I’m perfectly capable of breeding him, if that’s what they want.”

Rollins shrugs. “You ain’t got that super soldier sperm.”

“Captain. Hail Hydra.”

Steve looks up from where he’s been eating his breakfast and frowns at the sight of Rumlow. It’s strange and upsetting to see people that he knew from before. People who he’d thought were the good guys. Brock looks the same as he did a year ago. Same haircut, same face, same tactical gear that he used to wear when he was on Shield’s Strike team, when he was Steve’s friend. Only now there is no Shield, and there are no friends. Now they all belong to Hydra whether they want to or not.

“Hail Hydra,” Steve mumbles into the cold milk of his cereal.

“Gotta come with me, Cap,” Rumlow tells him. “Today’s the day.”

Steve looks up at him, eyes angry and tired. “I’m not doing it,” he says. He’s fucking not doing it. They can’t make him.

“I’m not in the mood for this today.” Rumlow calls in the four guards that he’s brought with him and has them stand there with their stun batons as a warning for Steve. Before, they never would’ve been enough to keep him subdued. But that was before. Steve knows it’ll be no use trying to fight them off. He lets his spoon drop into the cereal bowl.

They take him down to the wing where they keep Bucky, to a room with a bed, a minifridge and an exam chair. It’s a heat suite, where they intend to force him to do this, Steve supposes. Bucky’s not there. There’s a tech waiting for them and when Steve lays eyes on the prepped syringes he tenses, tries to turn around. He winds up with a stun baton jammed to his neck and the next thing he knows he’s restrained in the chair. The tech is bringing a needle over and Steve pulls with all his might against the mag restraints. They don’t budge. “Relax,” Rumlow says. He’s standing beside Steve. “It’s just something to help you.”

“Help me how?” Steve asks, afraid. He’s already drugged up six ways to Sunday. Drugs to keep him weak, drugs to keep him dazed, drugs to keep him calm. If he didn’t heal so rapidly his inner arms would look like pincushions by now. The injections erase who he is, erase any possibility of a fight, let alone an escape. He doesn’t want any more injections.

“Something to kickstart your rut,” Brock says. He points to the other needles, one by one. “An aphrodisiac. A benzo to lower your inhibitions. Hormones to increase the chances of conceiving.”

Steve sneers. “I’m not doing it. I’m not hurting him.”

“You sure as hell better not,” Brock tells him, and there’s something about the way that he says it that has Steve paying closer attention. Steve takes notice of how tense Rumlow seems, upset almost. He smells the sour tint of possessiveness rolling off of him. “He’s mine,” Brock says. It’s obvious he’s not talking about his role as Bucky’s handler.

Steve squints for a moment. “…No,” he says, eyes widening. Rumlow smirks when he sees that Steve is finally figuring it out. “You’ve had him.”

“Wow. Took you long enough Cap. Thought you would’ve at least smelled him on me, all the times I fucked him before passing you in the hall.”

Steve grits his teeth, fury building in him in a way that he didn’t think was possible, not with all of the mood stabilizers Hydra’s got him on. “You fucking raped him?!” The tech comes over and jabs Steve while he’s distracted, not that he can move much in the restraints anyway. The needle stings going in, but the anger coursing through him is worse than the cold flush of medicine through his veins.

Brock looks at Steve with contempt. “I’m his handler. He hasn’t been raped since I started caring for him.”

Steve pants in his seat, feeling his temperature start to climb as the drugs work into his system. “Is that what you call it?” he sneers. “You think you’re taking care of him?”

“I know you’re not happy about this,” Brock tells him. “But let me tell you something: neither am I.”

“What are you talking about?”

Brock tells the tech to get out of the room. He orders the AI system that they stole from Stark Industries to stop monitoring them. Once they’re all alone he tells Steve, “He’s mine, Rogers.” Steve growls at him and that makes Rumlow roll his eyes. He drags a stool over to sit right in front of where Steve is restrained. “What you’re participating in? It’s called Project Genesis.”

“Yeah, trying to make baby supersoldiers, I get it,” Steve snaps. “I’m not doing it.”

“It’s the only fucking reason you’re alive right now,” Brock tells him. “And it’s the only reason he’s not gathering dust in some cryo vault.”

Steve can’t suppress his frown. “What?”

Brock sighs. “You’ve both been decommissioned. Hydra is a major world power now. One or two enhanced assets aren’t worth our time anymore. An army of supersoldiers, however, is. That’s what he’s still useful for.”

“You son of a bitch.”

“Yeah? How do you think I feel?” Brock snaps. “I was the one who was supposed to breed him. Was working on it just fine till they brought you in. I’m sure you think he’ll be happy to see you but let me tell you, he won’t.” Brock can smell the change coming over the other alpha, can smell his body ramping up for a rut. Beneath the scent of sex hormones is the sour tinge of chemicals. It makes Brock want to curl his nose and bare his teeth in a challenge, or maybe turn away to escape the smell altogether. “He doesn’t know you Cap, and you’re just going to scare him if you come at him acting like he should be glad to see you.”

Steve glares at him. “He does remember me. He knew me on the helicarrier.” Bucky had known him. He had.

But Brock shakes his head. “No. He only has bits and pieces Rogers. He’s my omega. I bonded to him years ago.”

Steve growls and pulls at his restraints again. “No!”

“Calm the fuck down!” Brock leans in closer. He looks mad. Smells mad too. “This isn’t about you or me. It’s not up to us. Do you think I’d let you touch him if it was?”

“He’s not yours,” Steve grits out. “And I’m not going to touch him.”

Brock huffs. “You wait till those drugs kick in, you’ll be singing a different tune.” He looks at Steve seriously. “And just so you know, he’s already in heat.”

Steve’s eyes widen at that. “What?”

“Yeah. He’s hot and aching and he knows what his mission is. He’s not going to fight it,” Brock says. “But he’s expecting me. He’s expecting someone that he knows to help him feel better. And he’s going to be confused when I bring him in here and tell him that he has to let another alpha fuck him. A stranger. So I need for you to calm down. I don’t want him scared. You and I are going to talk to him together and you’re going to be gentle with him.”

Steve can feel arousal building in himself, and it’s strange to feel that while he’s sitting there next to Rumlow, being told all of this. The chemically-induced rut is coming on fast. “Shit,” he curses, head falling back to the chair behind him. He can feel himself firming up beneath the thin cotton of his sleep pants and he hates that he can’t hide it from Rumlow. “I can’t do this. Please don’t make me do this.”

“Get it together Cap,” Rumlow snaps, unhappy.

“Fuck you!” Steve spits.

Brock sighs. “I was hoping you’d shut up but I can see that’s not going to happen. He crosses the room only to return with a gag in his hands. He forces Steve’s jaw open and presses the ball gag in, saying nothing about the fight Steve puts up. Once it’s secured and Steve is heaving angry breaths at him, Brock says, “I’m going to get him now. If you care about him at all you won’t make this worse for him than it has to be.” He gets up and leaves through the room’s only door and Steve is forced to wait long minutes, panting and sweating at the oncoming rush of a forced rut.

The asset is relieved when its handler comes to retrieve it. It entered its heat hours ago and has had to wait, alone and aching, in the little room. “Come on James,” the handler says when the asset stands from its little cot, and the asset remembers that this is supposed to be its name. He’s never heard it before—not from anyone besides his handler. It's probably invented, but he likes that he uses it. Even if it’s made up, it’s something special between just the two of them.

Now they’ll go to the other room, the one where they always go when he is to be bred. James looks forward to it because he knows it’ll make him feel better. Brock (that’s his handler’s name. He’s allowed to use it when they’re alone) will give him everything he needs, will knot him and hopefully fill him with pups. That’s their mission. So far they’ve been unsuccessful but the asset thinks it’s because his heats used to be so unpredictable. Now he’s been out of cryo long enough that he’s cycling regularly again, his body ready for a pregnancy.

The asset has never thought about reproducing. An assassin doesn’t think of such things, a weapon certainly doesn’t. But James does. James doesn’t mind his new mission. He hasn’t told his handler, but he secretly prefers serving Hydra this way over what he used to do. This way he doesn’t have to go into the cold. And they don’t wipe him. And there’s someone who cares for him—his alpha. Deep down, he secretly likes the idea of having a baby, something that’s his that isn’t garbage or government-issued. Something that’s all his. He doesn’t tell his handler about this either.

They enter the other room and there is someone else there. It’s a man, an alpha. He’s restrained and in rut, that much is clear right away. The asset is nearly knocked back by the abrupt smell of him. Brock notices and laughs, reaching to grab him by the arm and pull him closer. “Easy babe.”

The asset scans his eyes over the man on the chair. He’s big. Tall and muscled, with blond hair and handsome features. He’s clearly upset. He struggles against his bonds as they approach, making useless sounds through the gag in his mouth. The asset looks questioningly at Brock. “Who is he?” He’s not really supposed to ask questions unprompted, but over time he’s learned that it’s okay with his handler, with Brock.

“His name is Captain Rogers,” Brock says. “Former SHIELD operative. He’s an enhanced like you are.”

The asset nods. He was unaware that there were others like himself. There used to be a program, but it had failed. He can remember helping, being tasked with training a group of men and women to make them stronger, better. But they’d gone wild and had been eliminated. The mission had failed.

“We have new orders,” Brock tells him, and this is when he takes his hand, squeezes it reassuringly. James purrs at the contact, moves to begin removing his clothes as is expected of him. But Brock stops him. “Wait, babe.”

The man in the chair growls at the pet name and James whines. He doesn’t want the other alpha to be there. He wants to be naked, in a bed, under his mate. “I’m hot,” he points out. “I need to get undressed.”

“You can,” Brock tells him. He pets the side of James’ face. “But I’m not going to be here with you.”

The asset frowns in confusion. “What?” He doesn’t understand. This is the breeding room. James is in heat. It’s their mission—they’ll be punished if they don’t complete it. The asset tilts his head, baring his neck, trying to show his alpha how ready he is. “Alpha please,” he whines. He’d hit the floor and present if not for the other alpha in the room. “I’m in heat. I need it.”

Brock shushes him, gentles a hand down his side. It feels good but it’s not nearly enough. “I know baby, I know. You’ll get a knot, just not mine.” The asset is confused again, but only for a second. His eyes dart over to where the other alpha is bound. Brock sees this and he nods, “Yeah baby, you’re going to mate with him.”

“What?” A low noise of distress leaves James’ throat, unbidden. He’s not supposed to make noises like that. But Brock never punishes him for such mistakes, not when it’s just the two of them. “No. You’re supposed to do it. You’re my mate,” he says, feeling scared. He’s not supposed to argue with directions. “Alpha?” he says, trying to press his nose into Brock’s neck, trying to ignore the other man in the room. “The mission,” he urges. “Breed me. Put pups in me.”

But Brock just kisses his temple and sets him back firmly. “Sorry babe,” he says. “It’s orders.”

Steve tries to speak through the gag but of course it’s no use.

He is forced to sit there and watch as Rumlow comes into the room with Bucky, holding his hand, for Christ’s sake. Bucky doesn’t seem to mind at all. He makes a pleased sound whenever Brock touches him, and when he calls him pet names. Steve feels his guts lurch at the obvious show of affection between them. He feels jealously flare up in his core like a rabid animal, wanting to kill the other alpha for touching Bucky, for trying to claim the omega that should be his.

That, he knows, is his rut talking. It’s gotten worse in the past ten minutes since Brock left him here, tied to the exam chair and gagged. Steve’s skin itches and his pulse throbs. Between his legs, he’s hard. And now that Bucky has come into the room, now that Steve can smell him, it’s so much worse. Bucky smells like damp, cloying earth. He smells like dark, cramped spaces and tangled up bodies. He smells like something Steve wants to bury his face in and not come up for air from. Steve takes one look at him and feels the urge to chase him, catch him, pin him down come unbidden. All he can do is wiggle ineffectively in his bonds.

In front of him, Brock is telling Bucky that he has to mate with Steve. Steve’s heart clenches when Bucky looks over to him, tense and afraid. His eyes do not hold recognition. Steve listens as Bucky pleads and whines to Brock, calling him his alpha, begging him to breed him instead. And Brock fucking comforts him, pets him and gives him a kiss and tells him it’s okay. Bucky looks like he never wants to leave Brock’s side. Steve clenches his eyes shut at the sight.

“Rogers.”

Steve’s eyes open. Brock is standing right in front of him. Bucky is still hanging back, looking unsure. “You see?” Brock says, and he’s not bragging or gloating or anything. He’s just trying to get Steve to listen. “He’s used to being with me, Cap. He doesn’t know you. Now are you gonna behave if I take that gag out? Not going to upset him?”

Steve glares at Rumlow, but after a moment manages a terse nod. The gag gets removed, and Steve takes a moment to swallow the spit in his mouth, lick his lips and crack his jaw. “Thanks,” he grunts, not feeling at all thankful.

Rumlow nods, chucks the gag away. “I’m not going to let you up from that chair yet,” he tells Steve. “That I’ll do remotely, once I’m out of the room.”

Steve sneers. “What? You afraid to be alone with me?”

Brock raises his eyebrows. “First of all, I’m not alone.” He nods back to Bucky. “I’ve got him. Don’t let his role in our breeding program fool you; he’s still perfectly capable of ending a man with his bare hands. If I give him the order to, that is. Secondly, I’m not going to let you out of that chair while I’m in the room because you’re in rut. A rut that we chemically engineered to match his heat. You’re geared up to attack any alpha that comes near him.”

Steve scoffs. “I’ve got better control than you, animal.”

Brock looks back at Bucky and calls him over, but he calls him James, and that rankles Steve more than anything else yet. “Come here James,” Rumlow says. He holds out his arm and Bucky comes over obediently. “This is Steve. He’s not a big fan of mine, I’m sure you can tell.”

“Bucky,” Steve says urgently. “Bucky I’m not going to hurt you. Okay? Don’t worry.”

“Who the hell is Bucky?” Bucky murmurs to Brock.

Brock glares at Steve. “I told you Cap. He doesn’t know any of that.” Brock pulls Bucky closer, encourages him to go up and touch Steve where he’s restrained to the chair. “Go ahead babe. You heard him: he won’t hurt you. Have a look at him.”

Bucky does. He inches closer until his leg hits the side of the chair. He reaches forward with careful fingers, as if Steve is a wild animal that might bite. Bucky’s eyes are cold and calculating as they pass over Steve, no recognition to them. Not like Steve wants. “He’s healthy,” Bucky murmurs, almost as if he’s afraid to say it. “Strong.” Behind, Brock chuckles a little.

“Yeah he is. Don’t worry though. He won’t be rough on you.” Brock meets Steve’s eyes over Bucky’s head. “I have it on good authority. He’s going to be real gentle.”

Bucky doesn’t react to this, and Steve feels as if he can hardly breathe as Bucky continues to examine him. He touches Steve’s arms, his legs, his chest. Steve is still clothed, but the touches ramp up the desire that the drugs have kickstarted. In his pants, he’s hard as a rock. Bucky leans down and sticks his nose into Steve’s neck, scenting at the glands there. It’s all Steve can do not to moan where he’s sitting, all he can do not to try and thrust his hips up the way his body wants to. After a long inspection, Bucky seems to make up his mind about Steve. He stands back and away, looks to Brock. “He’ll sire good pups. I understand why he’s been chosen.” He nods once to show his obedience in the matter. “I’ll complete the mission.”

Brock smiles at him. “Good boy.”

“Buck you don’t have to do anything these sacks of shit tell you to—”

“Cap,” Rumlow warns, “That ain’t the way. He WILL do what we tell him to. And if you’re resisting, he’ll take you by force. That how you want this to go?”

Steve grimaces at the threat, imagining the absurdity of Bucky raping him. “He should have a choice,” Steve tells Rumlow darkly, hating the man with every fiber of his being. “Does this make you proud?” he asks. “Treating him like a thing? Violating him?” Steve forces himself to meet Rumlow’s eyes in an imploring manner. “You said that you mated him. If that’s true, is this really what you want for him?”

Rumlow shakes his head, looks at Steve as if he’s incredibly thickheaded. “You just don’t get it, do ya Cap?” He walks over, takes a hold of Bucky’s neck and pulls him in for a deep kiss. Steve watches the display with horror, especially once Bucky brings both of his hands up to cradle Rumlow’s jaw. Brock pulls away from Bucky, their lips separating with a pop, and he glares at Steve. “This isn’t about ‘want’. It’s about following orders.” With that he pushes Bucky up to stand close to Steve, turning away before either man can stop him. “Now just shut up, lay back, and get him pregnant,” he throws over his shoulder as he walks out the door.

James tries not to feel anything when his mate leaves the room. He tries to slip back into the mindset of the Asset, a place where feelings are irrelevant. Brock has explained the parameters of the mission, has given the soldier his orders. Now James will execute. He tips his ear towards the door, his enhanced hearing helping him to pick up on the sounds of many intricate locking mechanisms being set. He flicks his gaze back up to the body of the other man—the man they’ve chosen to sire his pups.

James wants to sneer, feels like maybe he does. He shuffles uncomfortably in place, wetness already growing sticky and cool where it’s seeped into the back of his pants. He wonders if Captain Rogers can smell it. Stepping close to the chair where he’s restrained, James examines the mag cuffs that hold him in place. They’re similar to the ones that his handlers use on him. It makes James wonder just how strong this man is. Brock had said he was enhanced. He tilts his head in curiosity.

“… Bucky—”

“Directive clarification,” James calls out to the room, ignoring whatever the Captain had been about to say to him. James doesn’t wait for a response; he knows they’re being watched. “Am I to mount him like this?” he asks, not particularly caring either way. He shouldn’t care about this stranger’s comfort during the act—he’s not Brock. The soldier has his orders and James has no choice. He has to do it. A quick glance shows him what he can already smell: Captain Rogers is fully erect beneath his clothing. On the chair or in a bed, he’ll be easy enough for James to take inside of his body. But a crackle comes through the speakers in the ceiling, echoing Brock’s voice into the room:

“Use the bed if you want. He’s been chemically subdued so he shouldn’t be able to put up much a fight. Releasing mag cuffs in three, two...”

In the next second the restraints on the chair click open, and James turns back in time to see Captain Rogers pulling his arms away from the chair. He sits up, swinging his legs over the side. His bare feet touch the floor but he remains perched on the chair’s edge. For the first time, James realizes that the Captain is dressed in sleeping clothes. A standard issue tee shirt and cotton pants are all he wears. “Bucky,” he says again, holding out an arm in James’ direction. It is unclear if the gesture is meant to beckon James closer or to keep him at bay. James is not unaware that, omega or not, he presents a threatening image to most men. With this in mind he narrows his stance, draws his shoulders down to seem as small and nonthreatening as possible. Hopefully this will keep the Captain from trying to do something as counterproductive as running, or fighting.

“I realize you don’t recognize me, but don’t be scared. I’m not going to hurt you. My name’s Steve.

James blinks at him. He takes stock of the situation. Captain Rogers—Steve—has been made aware of his role in the breeding program. He’s been given his orders just like James has, but he’s resisting. James can smell it on him, the warring scents of desire and disgust. James steps closer, tilting his head to the side once he’s just in front of him. “Smell that?” he asks, being sure to keep his eyes cast down. The Captain’s hands are clenched tightly by his sides as James bares his neck in a submissive gesture. “Come on,” he says as gently as he can. “Alpha?”

“Don’t,” Steve bites out. He sounds pained. “Don’t call me that Buck.”

James bites his cheek, thinking he may just have to use physical force if this man won’t listen. “You’re in forced rut,” he says, trying again. “That can’t feel good.”

Steve huffs an abortive laugh. “Yeah.”

“You’re flushed,” James tells him. There is perspiration all along the collar of Steve’s tee. “And you’re hot. Burning-up-inside hot. Believe me I know how it feels. When you’re so desperate that you’re miserable?” He reaches for the hem of his own shirt, pulls it quickly over his head. He knows that the movement makes his scent burst into the air. Now his top half is exposed and James has to hold in the sigh that wants to come at the relief of having that much less clothing on his body. He tosses his shirt aside. In front of him, Steve’s nostrils are flaring. “It doesn’t have to be like that,” he tells him, “You can have me. It’ll help.”

Steve’s fingers sink into the chair’s cushion, little bits of foam padding ripping out and falling to the floor. His scent is soaring—a deep, rich scent like copper and burnt wood. James grits his teeth at the sudden urge to drop and present. He slowly reaches out with his flesh hand and touches Steve’s thigh. “Why are you afraid?” he asks. It’d be nice to know. Everyone always seems to know more than he does…

“I can’t hurt you like this Buck. I just can’t.”

James shushes him, ignores the continued use of that nonsensical name, Bucky. “You won’t,” he soothes, pulling lightly at the fabric of Steve’s pants in an effort to get him to slide off the chair. “I’m in heat. I’m ready. It won’t hurt.”

Steve scoffs, but he does allow himself to be moved. Standing barefoot, they come eye to eye. “That’s not the kind of hurt I meant.”

James ignores the clench his heart gives as he thinks of Brock. He wonders if his alpha is watching from another room, observing them through a little camera. He hopes not. “Come here,” James says, pulling Steve forward. Steve’s hands find their way to his hips, and James feels more slick rush out of his body at the contact. He whimpers without meaning to. “Scent me,” he says, tilting his head again. He’s pressing up against Steve, their bodies connected from thigh to chest. He can feel the alpha’s erection and he’s certain that Steve can feel his. But that hardly matters as Steve releases an answering growl somewhere in his throat. His head dips down and he buries his nose in the crook of James’ neck. James’ breath leaves him in a satisfied puff. He’s been in heat for nearly twenty-four hours with no relief until now. He’d been expecting Brock, his mate, but the mission has changed.

His body has already decided for him, he realizes. It doesn’t matter that this isn’t Brock. Doesn’t matter that it’s a stranger who’s been selected to put pups in him. James’ body recognizes this Steve for what he is; a strong, virile alpha.

The Asset grabs Steve with his metal hand, pushing him towards the bed before the other man can protest.

Steve stumbles over his own feet, not having been prepared for the rough grab and push of Bucky’s metal arm. He falls gracelessly back onto the room’s bed with a grunt. Bucky doesn’t give him time to recover. He’s there in a flash, one hand planted in the center of Steve’s chest and the other yanking down his pants. Bucky tosses them to the floor and reaches for Steve’s shirt. But Steve isn’t having it. He grabs Bucky’s arms and attempts to fight him. They grapple for all of three seconds before Bucky has him pinned, and Steve is panting furiously. The drugs make him so much weaker than before. With Bucky’s metal arm in play he doesn’t stand a chance. Begging is all he’s got left, it seems. “Please,” he says, staring imploringly. “You don’t want to do this.”

Bucky ignores him completely. He rips Steve’s tee shirt down the front like it’s paper, pulls it off of him and throws it somewhere in the general vicinity of where the pants had gone. Leaning forward over Steve’s now-naked body, he gives a very un-omega like growl. “Stay down.” He stands up and divests himself of the boots he’s wearing, then his pants.

Of course Steve doesn’t listen. He manages to prop himself up by the time Bucky’s taking his underwear off, and the scent that hits Steve then is so strong it makes him clench his eyes shut. “Fuck.” He can’t look at Bucky, he can’t or he’ll lose his shit. The bed dips and Steve jerks as Bucky pulls him to lie down again, too much naked skin pressed up along his own. “Bucky, don’t—” He’s cut off by lips crashing down on his own. Bucky wastes no time in forcing his way, mouthing and biting at Steve to make him open up. His hands pull at Steve’s hair and he fucks his tongue lewdly into his mouth. A garbled noise that probably would have been a moan had it been allowed to form leaves Steve, his hands grabbing the first part of Bucky they can find—his hips. Steve pulls on Bucky, whether to bring him closer or push him away he’s not sure, but he winds up tugging the other man fully atop him, and the second Steve feels him start rolling his hips downwards, he’s lost.

Bucky breaks the kiss, pulling away. Steve opens his eyes to see the omega staring at him, eyes a hard grey. He’s still fucking downwards, rubbing himself off against the crest of Steve’s groin, and his breath has become harsh. “This is our mission,” he breathes, sounding rough and desperate. “We have to. You have to.”

Steve feels sickness rise up and mingle with the desperation of his rut again. “No.”

“Yes.”

Steve repeats the ‘no’ several times more as Bucky continues to writhe against him, but his hands don’t loosen their hold on Bucky’s hips, and he doesn’t try to push Bucky off of him. “I can’t.”

Bucky makes an angry sound in his throat and yanks Steve’s head back with the grip he has on his hair. It’s his metal hand and it hurts. “You don’t have a choice,” he says. Steve growls at the dominant gesture, his hindbrain urging him to put the omega in his place. But Bucky leans closer again. For a second Steve thinks he’s going to kiss him, but he doesn’t. He puts his lips to Steve’s ear, the dark length of his hair falling around them. “Don’t make me take it,” he whispers, sounding desperate. His hips have not stopped moving. “Please. Alpha. You’re supposed to give it to me. Take me. Don’t make me do it.”

Steve groans. There’s nothing worse that Bucky could have said. He’s in heat, and Steve’s in rut, and now he’s calling Steve Alpha and begging Steve to mate with him the way that he wants it; to take him the way an alpha should take their omega. Steve opens his eyes to find Bucky staring at him once again, only this time his eyes are soft and his brow is pinched—pleading. He looks more like the Bucky that Steve remembers, and Steve can’t ignore the urge within himself to make that pleading look go away, to satisfy.

He flips them over. The only reason he’s able to do it is because he takes Bucky completely by surprise. Bucky’s eyes go wide for a moment, assessing a threat, before he realizes the move for what it is and he relaxes and purrs. Steve doubts himself immediately. He brings his hands to Bucky’s face, pleased when he’s not pushed away and Bucky fucking bends his neck to expose himself. “Alpha,” Bucky whines, but Steve’s not having it.

“You listen to me,” he says angrily, using the last goddamn piece of himself that he has left to convey seriousness in his tone. Bucky stares at him obediently and Steve swallows. “They don’t wipe my memory, got it? You may not remember me, but I remember you. And I won’t hurt you. I hurt you, you have to tell me. If you want to stop, you tell me. Got it?”

James frowns, even in his lust-ridden brain he knows he does. This stranger—no, some distant and unreachable part of his mind corrects, not a stranger—Steve—is referencing the wipes, is telling him that they’ve met before. James can’t disprove such a claim. He wonders if this Captain Rogers was once his handler, or possibly a target. He wonders if “Bucky” was his call sign then. Steve is still staring intently at him, waiting for his answer, and James shakes his head to get the thoughts to go away. They’re not important, not relevant to the mission. If his promise is all the Captain needs, then it means nothing to James to give it. “You won’t hurt me,” he says again, thinking that the alpha above him is stupid to imagine that he could, but adds, “I’ll tell you if you do.”

That seems to settle it for Steve. He comes down and kisses James’ forehead, leaves his lips to linger there in a manner that makes James distinctly uncomfortable—as if they are old friends, or family even. “Okay,” he says quietly. “Turn over.”

James flips, never having obeyed an order so quickly. He tries to push himself up to present but with Steve’s heavy weight at his back he can’t do it. Behind, he can feel the alpha’s hardness pressing between his cheeks and it makes him whine needily. This may be a mission, but he’s still been left wanting and unfulfilled for close to going on twenty four hours now. There are no feelings of doubt or discontent with the situation that James needs to force down to be a good soldier. He’s allowed to want this, and he does. “Alpha,” he urges when Steve doesn’t move to penetrate him. “Please. Now, please.”

He can feel the exact moment when Steve gives in. His hands are clamped tightly on James’ wrists to keep him still, but when James nearly begs to be fucked it seems to push the alpha off whatever edge of hesitance he’s still managing to hang onto. James can feel Steve’s cock on his ass as he allows himself to thrust at last. The teasing slide is made easier by the slick that’s gathered there. James groans in frustration, rubbing his face into the bed and fairly suffocating himself as he waits for the other man to get on with it and get inside of him. He’s aching for it, for the stretch and pressure of an alpha’s cock, for a knot. He knows he’ll start yelling in a moment if Steve doesn’t DO SOMETHING.

But he does, and James doesn’t have to yell at him after all. Steve presses up onto his arms, the sweaty warmth of his chest leaving James’ back. He positions himself, bumping against James’ hole, and it’s a relief that he forgoes the unnecessary gesture of using fingers first—James is sure he would snap at him if he tried. Steve presses inside, entering him slowly but never stopping until he’s fully seated, his hips flush with James’ ass. It’s not hard to take him in. James’ body is slick and ready for it and he groans lowly into the bed at the sheer relief of it. “Yesss,” he hisses, and turns his head as much as he can to look back at Steve. The man looks about as gone for it as James feels, and a dark thrill shoots through him at the thought that he’s about to be taken just the way he wants to be. Fucked and bred just the way his body is crying out for. It may not be Brock, but James has decided not to think about that. All he can think about in his current state is Steve; the smell of him, the feel of him, even the sounds he makes, it all feels too perfectly satisfying. Maybe it has something to do with the barrage of drugs the techs had shot him up with yesterday. Maybe. He’s not supposed to care though, and he doesn’t. He tries to thrust his hips backwards, wanting movement and having no idea how the other man can bear to hold so still now that they’re connected. There’s nowhere to go with Steve pinning him down at the hips, but he knows the Alpha feels him squirming, recognizes it for the request that it is. “Move,” James says, sounding more demanding than a good omega should. “God just…”

Steve has a hand in his hair and his nose in his neck before James can finish the sentence. A very low growl, almost a feeling more than a sound, is coming out steadily from his chest. It makes goosebumps break out on James’ arms. “Are you telling me what to do?” Steve asks.

Against the bed, Bucky’s mouth splits in a smug grin. This is what he wanted, what Brock would’ve done. At the height of his heats, all the asset wants, all James wants, is to be taken. To be held down and owned. James strains to look back over his shoulder. The angle is awkward but he ignores it, fixing Steve with what he hopes is a challenging stare. If he has to goad the alpha into a more feral headspace to get things done, then by god that’s exactly what he’ll do. “I came here to get fucked, so yeah, I am. Move,” he bites out, hoping that it will spur Steve into action. It does. He pulls out, ignoring James’ cry of protest. His big hands slide down to his hips and he gets onto his knees behind him. James follows, pressing back and presenting. He can feel Steve’s hands pulling him apart, baring his hole. There is silence and James knows without having to look that Steve is just staring at him. The thought of it makes him shudder. He presses his face into the bedding and whines.

“God,” Steve exclaims softly, dragging a thumb across his leaking hole. “You’re soaked.”

James cannot stop whining low, needy omega sounds. Then he feels the blunt head of Steve’s cock at his entrance and he moans. “Yes,” he hisses, though it’s muffled against the sheets. He presses his ass back harder, and that causes Steve to pop inside of him. The alpha grunts in surprise, but then he’s right back to thrusting, this time faster. Just as deep though, and god, if that isn’t exactly what James wants. “Oh, hugn—oh!” The noises he’s making are obscene but James hardly notices. They seem to drive Steve on, his hips slapping harder each time he moans particularly loud.

It goes on like this until James reaches for his own cock. He only gets a couple of strokes in before Steve is knocking his hand away. James cries out indignantly but then Steve pulls out, flips him over and pushes right back in. He wraps his hand around James’ cock, hips working at the same pace as his hand. He’s staring down at James with a burning intensity, breath heavy with his efforts. “Mine,” he growls, giving a calculated twist on the upstroke.

James’ eyes roll back in his head. “Ugh, fuuck.” It’s incredible and nothing he’s used to. No alpha has ever done this for him before, always leaving it to him to take care of. He can hardly thrust into the grip very well when he’s being fucked as hard as he is, but damn if he doesn’t try. “Please,” he groans, grappling at Steve’s shoulders for something to hold onto. He hardly knows what he’s asking for. The alpha is sweaty above him and James’ hands glide over the muscles in his back. “Please, Steve,”

Steve’s eyes shoot to his at the use of his name. Something raw and more intense than what they’re doing now passes through them, and before James knows what’s happening he’s being kissed. It’s not gentle. It’s plying, and insistent, and needy. God, is it needy. Steve is kissing him like it’s the answer to something and all James can do is go along for the ride.

“Bucky,” Steve is grunting at him when he finally parts enough to speak. James knows he’s speaking to him, so he opens his eyes to the nonsensical name. He doesn’t really care what this man calls him, so long as he never stops. “Buck I’m gonna,” Steve tells him, brow sweaty and pinched. “I have to.”

James groans, feeling how true the alpha’s words are. His knot is growing, tugging more insistently with every thrust. When it feels like Steve might pull away at the last second, James wraps his arms and legs around him in a fierce hold. “No,” he begs. “Inside me. I need it.” He’s not thinking even a little bit about the mission now, only the ache inside him. It’s an ache only a knot will fix, and he whimpers this to Steve as he holds him. “Knot me. Alpha, please. Want to feel it. Fill me up. Breed me.”

Steve makes a filthy sound and shoves forward, groaning long and low into James’ ear. His knot catches, fully blown as he climaxes. His hand has stopped moving over James’ cock but it hardly matters now. He’s rocking his hips shallowly, pulling his knot taut against James’ rim, pulsating it over his prostate again and again and again. James doesn’t need anything else to make him come spectacularly.

“Why do you torture yourself like this?”

Brock doesn’t turn around from the observation window. He figures Rollins is just here to taunt him anyway. “Nobody asked you to come in here,” he says quietly, attention still fixed on the pair in the next room.

“Yeah well…” Rollins comes up and stands right next to Brock, eyes taking in the same sight. “I was curious.” When Brock says nothing, he adds, “Looks like they’re finished.”

Brock scoffs and turns abruptly from the window, putting his back to it. “They’re not fucking finished.” Idiot, he wants to add. He scrubs his hands over his face and it occurs to him that he needs to shave. “That was just round one.” Brock doesn’t know about Rogers, but he is intimately familiar with his own omega’s stamina during a heat. “They’ll be in there for a good two days at least.”

“And you’re just going to stand here and watch?” Rollins rolls his eyes. “Stupid.”

“I can’t do anything else,” Brock snaps, irritated at his friend. “You’ve never been bonded. You wouldn’t understand.”

“No?”

“No.” He sighs. “You think what? It’s just jealousy?” He shakes his head. “I could handle that. But this… It’s like a physical ache.” He turns slightly to glance through the window again, thinks better of it, and turns back around. “Can’t stand it.”

“Can’t do anything to change it.” Rollins points out. “You never should’ve gotten so close. He’s just a thing, and at the end of the day he’s Hydra’s thing, not yours.”

“Yeah.” Brock really doesn’t have it in him to argue that point. He wants to, but he doesn’t. It isn’t like he doesn’t wish he could set the poor SOB free. But that’s never going to happen, and playing house with his bonded for the last six months has just been wishful thinking. “They still going at it?” he asks, unwilling to turn around and look again. He wasn’t exactly getting off on the sight before.

Rollins looks. “Naw. Resting.”

Brock grits his teeth, can’t keep the image of that goddamn super soldier, tied to his mate, out of his head.

“You think it’ll take?”

“Christ Rollins, you just don’t quit. Of course it will.” Pretty soon he’ll have to see the soldier, heavy with a litter of his pups. He hates it. Hates it more than anything.

Rollins shrugs and claps a hand onto Brock’s shoulder. “Don’t stay in here.” Another glance back. “He’s obviously not going to hurt ‘im. Leave them to it. Come and have a drink with me.”

Brock looks at Rollins then and really considers him. He calls him his friend, but the truth is the two of them are just the same as the Winter Soldier—property of Hydra. It’s taken years for him to realize it, but it’s true. Still, Rollins is offering him a drink now, and even more than that, a temporary escape. It’s the closest thing to friendly Brock’s ever gotten from the other man, and he figures it’s the best he’s going to get for a while. He might as well go. Because Rollins is right; he never should have gotten so close.

Brock sighs and nods at Rollins. Tells him, “Yeah. Yeah I think I will.”

Masterlist

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[sleepingpopplio]

I have an announcement for all Americans:

The Puppy Bowl is superior to the Super Bowl. Look me in the eyes and try tell me those puppies are inferior to whatever the Super Bowl has going on. I dare you.

[shinalenecaffeinatedwriter]

GunnTech AU Character's Favorite Animal Headcanon to Little to None Explanation

or it's 2024, my current hyperfixation is @elmushterri 's GunnTech AU and I don't care anymore

Connor: Cats in general (for obvious reasons), but Stray and Feral cats have his whole heart. Almost every time he goes out for a run or whatever he'd bring a backpack with cat food, treats, maybe even cheap water bowls and leave them where he knows there's a ton of strays.

Greg: Geckos, it's Lizards in general but geckos are his obvious Top 1

Amaya: Everyone thinks is Owls (for obvious reasons), they were when she younger, but is currently Moths.

Nori: Crickets since they were young and Maine Coons, he thinks they match his own glamourous style sooo perfectly. They also do the 'leave food for strays' thing with the ninjalinos but incluing dogs, also he swears there's someone else feeding a specific Cat colony and reallyyy wants to meet them. (Of course it's Connor, I'm a sucker for this kind of thing)

Romeo: Ants. His mom definitely helped him do an ant colony in a bottle or a jar and he still has It, upgraded of course, but he keept the original jar.

Luna: Ferrets. Tiny, but mighty. When she was younger it was Moths and Owls.

Cartoka: Rabbits. Will correct anyone who calls them Roddents, they're Lagomorphoes.

Carly: Turtles. Everybody thinks she and Greg bonded at some point because they think their favorites are very similar, but they actually have regular arguments about the topic because Carly thinks 'Amphibians are superior' and has gotten on Greg's nerves once or twice.

Isabella "Octobella": Absolutely loved Octopous prior to GunnTech, because of its intellegence; then in GunnTech she got bullied for that, got the nickname then the transformation happened and started to dispite them (and herself). Later in life she started to redirect that anger towards GunnTech and work on her self-steem, but currently if you ask her she'll respond Shrimps. A Ninjalino asked her and agreed with the Shrimp answer saying they were cool, so she's a little more confident about that liking.

Dylan: He reallyyy wants to say Triceratops, but thinks is too childish so he says Rhinos

An Yu Guō: It's a tie between Iguanas and Dragonflies

Badriya "Bastet": She really thinks any type of feline would be unoriginal, so she goes with Bettles. Except if it's Connor asking, then it's Cheetahs

Rhiannon "Ripp": Wolfs. When she was younger she adored the whole 'Wolfs are solitary, cool and edgy' type of media; but now she's more leaned towards the 'being a pack' idea.

Hywel "Howler": Deers, oddly enough.

Kevin: Pigeons. He really resonates the whole 'all the Pigeons in the US are the decendants of old Messenger Pigeons and were abandon after they were no longer of use and became feral' thing, so he has a lot of respect for them and feeds them seeds, not bread.

Ivan: Polar Bears. He knows it's basic but doesn't care.

Newton: Fireflies.

Lily "Lilyfay": Buterflies and Sea Angels, just because Newton show her a picture and she thought it was super cool and pretty.

Daisy (Ninjalino): Hamsters

Eloide Mecano (Romeo's mom): Frogs and Toads. Not in a 'I want to dissect them' way, in a 'I have large specialized terrariums for each species that I have' and 'I love their skin's texture' kind of way.

Maria Martinez (Connor's mom): Fancy Cat Breeds like Ragdolls, Persians, Bengalis, etc. but NOT Maine coons because She thinks they're 'too much like dogs', she also goes to Cat Shows but doesn't participate. As well as thinking Strays are dirty and dangerous, so Connor has to hides the 'feeding strays and feral' thing (Shut up, I like RomComs)

Kimiko Kobayashi (Amaya's Aunt): Poodles. She grew up with standard poodles, currently has toy poodles and She reallyyy wants to have a Royal-Size at some point. Plus, She participates in Dog Shows; if it's one of 'the Big ones' there's usually a Cat Shows happening in the same place so I imagine Maria and her having coffee together and talking trash about EVERYONE

Grayson Gunn (Greg's Uncle): Gigant Scolopendra

Phinneas Gunn: He denied this multiple times trough his life for various reason, but Koalas

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

by Kassy Dillon

“We’re trying to get people to speak up,” Charlie Rich told Poupko when asked why the couple was on the street outside his home. “We’re advocating for peace.”

“How? By harassing Jews?” Poupko asked. “Harassing Jews is peace? What the heck is wrong with you?”

Poupko accused Thabisa Rich of engaging in “Nazi behavior,” to which Charlie Rich responded, “well, you do have a sign that says you support Israel.”

Thabisa Rich encouraged others to come back to the street with her during a livestream after she left the scene. 

“You tell me when you want to come back and ask for a ceasefire and ask for this people to stop their hate because they think that they are white and privileged and that they think that their religion is superior than the rest,” she stated. “I need people to show up to this very same street. We need to find a time to come back and show up in numbers and say no, enough is enough.”

“America is a country full of hate and racism and people need to just be honest and understand that is just what it is,” she said.

Poupko said the mayor called him on Monday over concern about the incident. 

“The reason he called is because there are many Jews in the neighborhood, and many were very shaken and felt targeted,” Poupko said, adding that his family recently moved to New Haven and had their first pro-Israel sign stolen last month.

Thabisa Rich invoked anti-Semitic tropes about Jewish power and said she would not condemn the terrorist group Hamas in now-deleted posts to her Facebook.

Since Hamas’s October 7, massacre of over 1,000 Israelis, Rich has frequently commented on the war, including stating on February 3 that she does “not condemn Hamas.”

Since Hamas’s October 7, massacre of over 1,000 Israelis, Rich has frequently commented on the war, including stating on February 3 that she does “not condemn Hamas.”

On November 20, she voiced her frustration with people who are not speaking up about the war by invoking anti-Semitic tropes about Jewish money and power.

“Your silence is starting to signify complacency,” she wrote. “I promise I understand that some of y’all have your pockets lined with bosses who are Jewish.”

During the Super Bowl on Sunday, Rich said she was “sick of these Jew focused ads [sic].”

“We have been witnessing Jewish folks inflicting hate,” she said in another post the same day. “It’s not made up.”

Thabisa Rich, who often discusses her status as an immigrant, had multiple now-deleted posts to her Facebook about her disdain for the United States.

In multiple posts to her Facebook she expresses her disdain for America, despite living in the country as an immigrant from South Africa, including calling the U.S. “Amerikkka” and claiming it is run by “DICKtators.”

She commented on the situation with Poupko as well, stating that she was “insulted and intimidated by the jewish family (that just moved in 3 months ago) [sic].”

“She wrote on social media she is being harassed by a Jewish family when she is the one who showed up with a megaphone in front of my house,” Poupko said.

[heelcody]

always blows my mind when people say they only watch the super bowl for the commercials with some kind of air of superiority because "lol sports ball stupid" like you're watching ADVERTISEMENTS. WILLINGLY. and yet I'm the chump??

[tail-feathers]

A Chinese celadon bowl

Ming Dynasty (1368-1644)

[st5lker]

i didnt even watch the super bowl but this is what i think people mean when they say some of you dont actually care about palestine you just want to live out your weird ego driven fantasies. like the point of the post this was a comment on was “israel is using the super bowl to take advantage of people’s diverted attention, so dont stop paying attention to gaza”. what exactly does telling random people who might not have even been aware to kill themselves do for palestine in fact what does it do for anything at all except make you personally feel superior

[thenerdparty]

Twisters film review

Written by Shawn Eastridge

Let’s get the important stuff out of the way first: between starring in Richard Linklater’s Everybody Wants Some with Tyler Hoechlin and now with David Corenswet in Twisters, Glen Powell has worked with TWO Supermen in the past decade. A true honor and privilege, and one I hope he doesn’t take for granted.

Am I the only one who’s paying attention to these things? Does this mean I have a Superman problem? Yes and yes? Great. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, on to the review!

Twisters is the latest in a batch of sequels that arrives at least two decades later than it should have. (I’m looking at you, Top Gun: Maverick–and don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F.) Maybe I’m just out of the loop and the world has been clamoring for a sequel to the 1996 box office smash, but I have a sneaking suspicion that by the time we officially reached the 21st century, it wasn’t near the top of anyone’s cinematic wish list.

That said, when the Twisters trailer dropped during Super Bowl Sunday, I was more delighted than I’d ever expected to be. (I’m almost positive it had something to do with the added “s” at the end of its title.) That initial delight grew into genuine excitement when I learned the film was being helmed by Lee Isaac Chung, the writer and director of one of my favorite films from the past decade, Minari. (That 2020 release, nominated for six Oscars, including Best Picture and Best Director, was lost in the midst of the pandemic, and is well-worth seeking out if you missed it.) But how would Chung fair helming a multi-million dollar blockbuster sequel? Would his tendency towards low-key human drama be drowned out by the genre’s demands for rip-roaring special effects to appease the popcorn-munching masses? Would he truly put the “s” in “Twisters”??

If Top Gun: Maverick proved anything back in good ol’ 2022, it’s that you can have the best of both worlds: a sequel that not only goes above and beyond expectations but delivers an effort superior to its predecessor. Look, I get a kick from watching Twister as much as the next person. Its special effects still hold up, Bill Paxton and Helen Hunt are a charming duo, and it’s lovely to see a pre-Boogie Nights Philip Seymour Hoffman doing his best Bill and Ted impersonation. But it’s no masterpiece (disasterpiece?). There was always plenty of room for improvement and Twisters rises to the occasion with more thoughtful storytelling and better drawn characters and emotional conflicts. It’s not particularly nuanced, but its heart’s in the right place, and how often can you say that about your average modern day blockbuster? And while Twisters is no Top Gun: Maverick (for one, it doesn’t have the benefit of Tom Cruise insisting that they take on real tornadoes. Wait, how has no one pitched that movie?), when it comes to crowd-pleasing, heartfelt, pulse-pounder blockbusting, Chung and his amazing cast and crew manage to get the job done and then some. 

Sure, Twisters’ characters and their relationships with one another are relatively simple and straightforward. Its screenplay, written by Mark L. Smith (The Revenant), based on a story by Joseph Kosinski (director of the aforementioned Top Gun: Maverick), hits just about every plot beat you’d expect. In fact, I’d go so far as to say there might not be a single genuinely surprising moment in this entire story. It’s likely your average moviegoer (a.k.a. Mom and Dad) could call the film’s plot beat for beat from the get-go. But that’s okay! Mom and Dad are allowed to get one right every so often! Chung and Smith aren’t out to revolutionize the genre. Twisters is more of a refinement of the disaster movie formula, and it improves upon its predecessor in nearly every respect. 

Besides, whatever shortcomings are evident in the script are cushioned not only by Chung’s confident direction but a top-notch cast led by Daisy Edgar Jones (Normal People, Where the Crawdads Sing) and 2024’s go-to leading man Glen Powell (Top Gun: Maverick, Hit Man). These two are genuine superstars and manage to effortlessly carry this massive, multi-million dollar effort on their shoulders. Rounding them out is an excellent supporting cast, featuring Anthony Ramos (Hamilton, Transformers: Rise of the Beasts), Sasha Lane (American Honey), and Brandon Perea (Nope, The OA). There’s even what threatens to be a stock “along-for-the-ride” journalist character, whose portrayal by Harry Hadden-Paton (Downton Abbey, The Crown) is so sincere and genuine you end up loving him as much as the rest of the raucous crew. These performances are strong enough to elevate the material, grounding it in an emotional reality that might have collapsed in on itself in lesser hands. Kudos to Chung for never missing an opportunity to home in on these characters’ small emotions and character beats, humanizing the whole enterprise. 

But what would Twisters be without its tornadoes? And you’ll be pleased to know Twisters’ action delivers, providing solid thrills that end up being more involving than your standard blockbuster. Working with seasoned cinematographer Dan Mindel (Star Trek ‘09, The Force Awakens) and top notch sound and VFX departments, Chung does an expert job of dropping the audience right smack-dab in the middle of nature’s gargantuan terrors. The thrills are more visceral and hard-hitting than the original. And yes, while this might have something to do with the massive improvements in special effects in the nearly 30 years since Twister was released, it also has a lot to do with Chung’s documentary-esque approach to capturing these sequences. It’s a MOVIE THEATER movie in the “go for broke” way you want it to be.

FINAL VERDICT:

Despite its plot contrivances and simplistic characterizations, Twisters has thrills and heart to boot. It’s simultaneously a throwback to the days of simpler, straightforward cinematic thrill rides and an exciting, forward-looking venture that suggests more on the cloudy-skied horizon. As for me, I’d follow Daisy Edgar Jones and Glen Powell into any tornado and I can’t wait to see David Corenswet switch gears and save people from tornadoes in James Gunn’s Superman next year. (And you thought I was going to conclude this review without referencing Superman. Oh, how little you know me.) 

I award Twisters 3.5 flying cows out of 5.

[muncedes]

jason calling travis out for pandering about cincinnati and asking what about the mayor’s joke triggered him so bad he is in fact the superior kelce and winning the super bowl next weekend so true

[duchessofostergotlands]

About the Super Bowl picks…if I don’t have a specific/personal reason to root for a team (hometown team, the team not owned by Stan Kroenke), my decision is always made by which mascot would win in a fight. Not just brute force though. For example, I go for Baltimore Ravens over a lot of ground mammals because they fly and therefore have the high ground, are very inquisitive, can problem solve and use tools. But if they play Philly Eagles, the latter would be my pick due to an eagle being a bird of prey, size, their ability to have higher ground, than a raven massive talons and superior eyesight than a Raven. It works well for when you have no interest in something. But the animal predictions are funny too. At a casino near my university you could bet on/play tic-tac-toe against a rooster. The house won a lot.

Submission from @oh-bee-essssss

Hahahaha I appreciate how much effort you put into this. It's not just a basic "oh I think this animal could beat this animal" but genuine, detailed research into animal behaviour. You must learn so much haha

[abrthephantomq]

Encoder Zim AU - part 3?

MR. PRESIDENT-MAN SHOT IN ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT; SHOOTER STILL AT LARGE

Gaz blinked at the television screen, her eyes narrowing as the reporter then gestured to a poor drawing of the supposed shooter. It was practically nothing but scribbles – there was only one identifying feature: that stupid scar. 

She sighed. Put down her bowl of cereal and picked up her phone. She opened the encrypted channel she’d made Dib make for them, years ago. Honestly, she could have done it herself, but – 

Well. 

She was too busy streaming these days. Had been for years as a prominent Twatch gamer. And creating an encrypted channel that their government couldn’t crack was child’s play. It would’ve bored her about three seconds into it. There was no strategy; no challenge to it at all. 

Dib, of course, had taken an embarrassingly long time to get it set up. She rolled her eyes as she recalled his excuses of being busy traveling all over the world on super secret missions, doing super secret things.

Like trying to assassinate Mr. President-Man. 

She stared at her phone for a minute; stared at Dib’s last message that he’d sent her. Stared at her original response. 

Gazlene, Superior Sibling you better not get caught, asswipe Read 8:03pm

Her eyes flicked to the time, her frown deepening. 

He’d read that message three hours ago. 

He hadn’t sent a message, since. 

She could do one of several things – many of them involved reaching out to Dib directly, either through his burner phone or his official one. She could also just ignore everything. Dib’d been in several tough spots before; nearly getting caught trying to assassinate a corrupt world leader wasn’t necessarily new for him. 

But – in those instances, he usually wasn’t seen. Not clearly enough, at any rate, for anyone to even remotely manage to nail that ridiculous scar. And there was something else on the screen now; a wide-framed shot of the street and surrounding areas where Mr. President-Man had been giving his speech. 

She paused the news report, her eyes scanning various corners for any sign of her brother. Or signs of – anything else, really.

It wasn’t like her brother to miss. 

She needed to figure out why. If her brother was on the run – again – it would help him to know what, exactly, had gotten in his way of his success. 

When she found nothing, she moved to the next frame. Apparently they were giving a blow-by-blow report of what had happened – including Mr. President-Man collapsing in a heap, his hand to his shoulder – Dib would’ve aimed for the heart; or for the head, not his shoulder – something definitely must have interfered with the shot. 

As she went through the report frame by frame, studying each image of the surrounding area, she couldn’t see anything. Nothing out of the ordinary. No signs of her brother, even – though she could guess where he’d been hidden, given the location. They’d scoped it out together, before. Months ago. Or was that years ago? 

She came to the last image and paused. Her frown deepened, and she picked her cereal back up, scooping the now-soggy treat into her mouth. She narrowed her eyes at the screen. 

Ah. So that’s what happened.