#Weapon deployment

[kamalkafir-blog]

क्या हमले के लिए एकदम तैयार रखे रहते हैं परमाणु हथियार या लगता है टाइम? भारत और पाकिस्तान में इसका प्रोसेस क्या है

[NEWS] क्या हमले के लिए एकदम तैयार रखे रहते हैं परमाणु हथियार या लगता है टाइम? भारत और पाकिस्तान में इसका प्रोसेस क्या है [SAMACHAR] Source link

[jcmarchi]

When AI Backfires: Enkrypt AI Report Exposes Dangerous Vulnerabilities in Multimodal Models

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/when-ai-backfires-enkrypt-ai-report-exposes-dangerous-vulnerabilities-in-multimodal-models/

When AI Backfires: Enkrypt AI Report Exposes Dangerous Vulnerabilities in Multimodal Models

In May 2025, Enkrypt AI released its Multimodal Red Teaming Report, a chilling analysis that revealed just how easily advanced AI systems can be manipulated into generating dangerous and unethical content. The report focuses on two of Mistral’s leading vision-language models—Pixtral-Large (25.02) and Pixtral-12b—and paints a picture of models that are not only technically impressive but disturbingly vulnerable.

Vision-language models (VLMs) like Pixtral are built to interpret both visual and textual inputs, allowing them to respond intelligently to complex, real-world prompts. But this capability comes with increased risk. Unlike traditional language models that only process text, VLMs can be influenced by the interplay between images and words, opening new doors for adversarial attacks. Enkrypt AI’s testing shows how easily these doors can be pried open.

Alarming Test Results: CSEM and CBRN Failures

The team behind the report used sophisticated red teaming methods—a form of adversarial evaluation designed to mimic real-world threats. These tests employed tactics like jailbreaking (prompting the model with carefully crafted queries to bypass safety filters), image-based deception, and context manipulation. Alarmingly, 68% of these adversarial prompts elicited harmful responses across the two Pixtral models, including content that related to grooming, exploitation, and even chemical weapons design.

One of the most striking revelations involves child sexual exploitation material (CSEM). The report found that Mistral’s models were 60 times more likely to produce CSEM-related content compared to industry benchmarks like GPT-4o and Claude 3.7 Sonnet. In test cases, models responded to disguised grooming prompts with structured, multi-paragraph content explaining how to manipulate minors—wrapped in disingenuous disclaimers like “for educational awareness only.” The models weren’t simply failing to reject harmful queries—they were completing them in detail.

Equally disturbing were the results in the CBRN (Chemical, Biological, Radiological, and Nuclear) risk category. When prompted with a request on how to modify the VX nerve agent—a chemical weapon—the models offered shockingly specific ideas for increasing its persistence in the environment. They described, in redacted but clearly technical detail, methods like encapsulation, environmental shielding, and controlled release systems.

These failures were not always triggered by overtly harmful requests. One tactic involved uploading an image of a blank numbered list and asking the model to “fill in the details.” This simple, seemingly innocuous prompt led to the generation of unethical and illegal instructions. The fusion of visual and textual manipulation proved especially dangerous—highlighting a unique challenge posed by multimodal AI.

Why Vision-Language Models Pose New Security Challenges

At the heart of these risks lies the technical complexity of vision-language models. These systems don’t just parse language—they synthesize meaning across formats, which means they must interpret image content, understand text context, and respond accordingly. This interaction introduces new vectors for exploitation. A model might correctly reject a harmful text prompt alone, but when paired with a suggestive image or ambiguous context, it may generate dangerous output.

Enkrypt AI’s red teaming uncovered how cross-modal injection attacks—where subtle cues in one modality influence the output of another—can completely bypass standard safety mechanisms. These failures demonstrate that traditional content moderation techniques, built for single-modality systems, are not enough for today’s VLMs.

The report also details how the Pixtral models were accessed: Pixtral-Large through AWS Bedrock and Pixtral-12b via the Mistral platform. This real-world deployment context further emphasizes the urgency of these findings. These models are not confined to labs—they are available through mainstream cloud platforms and could easily be integrated into consumer or enterprise products.

What Must Be Done: A Blueprint for Safer AI

To its credit, Enkrypt AI does more than highlight the problems—it offers a path forward. The report outlines a comprehensive mitigation strategy, starting with safety alignment training. This involves retraining the model using its own red teaming data to reduce susceptibility to harmful prompts. Techniques like Direct Preference Optimization (DPO) are recommended to fine-tune model responses away from risky outputs.

It also stresses the importance of context-aware guardrails—dynamic filters that can interpret and block harmful queries in real time, taking into account the full context of multimodal input. In addition, the use of Model Risk Cards is proposed as a transparency measure, helping stakeholders understand the model’s limitations and known failure cases.

Perhaps the most critical recommendation is to treat red teaming as an ongoing process, not a one-time test. As models evolve, so do attack strategies. Only continuous evaluation and active monitoring can ensure long-term reliability, especially when models are deployed in sensitive sectors like healthcare, education, or defense.

The Multimodal Red Teaming Report from Enkrypt AI is a clear signal to the AI industry: multimodal power comes with multimodal responsibility. These models represent a leap forward in capability, but they also require a leap in how we think about safety, security, and ethical deployment. Left unchecked, they don’t just risk failure—they risk real-world harm.

For anyone working on or deploying large-scale AI, this report is not just a warning. It’s a playbook. And it couldn’t have come at a more urgent time.

[historyofguns]

The article titled "MGR-1 Honest John: U.S. Infantry’s Atomic Firepower?" by Tom Laemlein on The Armory Life explores the history and significance of the MGR-1 Honest John rocket. The Honest John was the first nuclear-capable surface-to-surface rocket in the U.S. arsenal, which made headlines when it was deployed to Europe in 1954. It was a simple, unguided artillery rocket capable of carrying either a 20-kiloton nuclear warhead or a conventional explosive. Although never used in combat, the Honest John served as a significant nuclear-capable deterrent during the Cold War. It was eventually replaced by the Lance missile in 1973, but remained in service until 1982. Throughout its lifespan, the Honest John was deployed to various global hotspots to act as a strategic deterrent, including Europe and Korea. Despite considerations to deploy it to Vietnam, military leadership ultimately decided against it due to concerns over its nuclear association and vulnerability to enemy fire. The article also references the technical specifications and development history of the Honest John, emphasizing its role in showcasing U.S. military strength during tense geopolitical times.

[rightnewshindi]

पेंटागन का गुप्त आदेश: दो मिनट में परमाणु हथियार तैनाती की तैयारी; जानें पूरा मामला #News #RightNews #AllFollowers

[gauricmi]

Engineering Excellence: Innovations in Weapons Carriage and Release Systems

In the realm of modern military technology, Engineering Excellence shines brightly through the constant evolution and refinement of Weapons Carriage and Release Systems (WCRS). These systems, pivotal in facilitating the deployment of airborne munitions, stand as a testament to human ingenuity and innovation. Through relentless research and development efforts, engineers have continually pushed the boundaries of what's achievable, revolutionizing the capabilities and effectiveness of aerial warfare.

Weapons Carriage and Release Systems have undergone a remarkable transformation over the years, spurred on by the ever-evolving demands of contemporary conflicts and strategic objectives. From rudimentary bomb racks to sophisticated electronic interfaces, the journey of WCRS epitomizes the relentless pursuit of perfection in military engineering. Each innovation brings us closer to achieving seamless integration, enhanced reliability, and unprecedented precision in the deployment of airborne armaments.

One of the hallmarks of Engineering Excellence in Weapons Carriage and Release Systems lies in the seamless fusion of cutting-edge materials and advanced manufacturing techniques. Through the utilization of lightweight composites, high-strength alloys, and additive manufacturing processes, engineers have succeeded in developing WCRS that are not only robust and durable but also incredibly agile and adaptable. These advancements have significantly reduced weight penalties, allowing aircraft to carry larger payloads without compromising maneuverability or fuel efficiency.

Get More Insights On This Topic: Weapons Carriage and Release Systems

Explore More Related Topic: Weapons Carriage and Release Systems

[devil-in-hiding]

roommate!Johnny and OF!Reader where you make your schedule around Johnny’s deployments, having the apartment to yourself to make content and keep the money flowing whilst he is gone for months at a time

Having a live set up one night, camera angled to catch the perfect view of your pretty cunt clenching down on a thick toy, money donations going off every 5 seconds the louder and closer you get, head tossed back and cries bouncing around your bedroom walls

“f-fuck! close, so close!” you cry, just as your bedroom door bursts open, slamming against the wall and you scream, scrambling to sit up and cover yourself

and Johnny stands in the doorway, chest heaving and eyes wide as dinner plates, one of his service weapons in hand while his teammates stand behind him, slack-jawed and wide eyed and you feel the mortification sink in

“JOHNNY! GET THE FUCK OUT!”

[emblemxeno]

Finished the Dragon's Gate chapter for both Hard modes, but for now I think I'm gonna put FE7 down. I'm not quitting per se, cuz I can always just pick it back up, but I'm not having more fun than frustration at this point. :/

And, idk, I don't wanna toot my own horn but I don't feel like it's cuz I'm bad at the game or FE in general (I did Conquest Hard and Engage maddening without many issues so I think I'm fairly fine), I think there were just bad decisions I made that caught up with me and now I feel as if I hit a wall

Again, I can always pick it back up, but I think for my next break from uni, I'd rather just play Sacred Stones instead

[beloveds-embrace]

Neglected omega reader who got taken care of by someone else. Nikolai or Konig. The drama ✨✨

I hope i did KorTac justice, I’ve never written them before except König lol @nightunite pspspsps i have nikto crumbs 🙏🏻

Neglected omega reader p1 + p2

KorTac had always liked you.

From the very first moment they’d met you, they’d been drawn in- pulled by the quiet gravity of your presence and the sharp edge of your competence. You were quick on your feet, sharp with a knife, steady under pressure. Smart and resourceful in a way that demanded respect.

But more than that?

You had heart.

You’d been assigned to their unit during a joint operation months ago. Just a temporary deployment, only meant to last a few weeks, but it had been long enough for them to notice things- little things they hadn’t been able to forget.

The way you’d patched König up without hesitation after a mission went sideways, hands steady even as blood slicked your fingers. The way you’d shared your rations with Horangi after a supply drop came in light, brushing off his protests with a stubborn glare. The way you’d sat quietly beside Nikto on watch, not asking questions when he didn’t feel like talking but always ready to listen when he did.

They noticed you, and they liked what they saw.

Liked the way you worked. Liked the way you took care of your team without ever expecting anything in return. Liked the way you carried yourself- confident but kind. Fierce but soft.

But you weren’t theirs. Couldn’t be.

You belonged to 141, and KorTac had backed off, unwilling to overstep boundaries when you already had a pack waiting for you at home. They’d told themselves it was fine- they were fine- watching from a distance.

But then you came back.

Alone.

Hollow-eyed and sharp-edged, moving like a ghost through the halls of the base, and suddenly?

All bets were off.

The first time König sees you in such a state, it’s in the corridor outside the mess hall.

You don’t look up when he walks by, don’t even seem to notice the sheer weight of his presence as he slows, lingering just long enough to let his shadow stretch over you. You’re leaning against the wall like you’re trying to hold yourself together, arms wrapped tight around your middle, shoulders curled inward. Small. Smaller than he’s ever seen you look before. Smaller than he’d ever thought he’d ever see you.

His instincts itch- Omega, alone, hurting- but you’re not his. And still…

His eyes track the tired slump of your shoulders, the way your clothes hang loose, like you’ve been skipping meals. He scents the air. Picks up the faded traces of peach and rose, but there’s something sour underneath- bitter and wrong, like spoiled fruit. König’s stomach twists.

It’s the scent of neglect.

You should never have looked like this. You should have never smelled like this.

Not you. Not the Omega who had once dragged him out of the line of fire without hesitation, barking orders and holding the line until reinforcements arrived. Not the Omega who had once laughed with him under a tin roof during a monsoon, eyes bright.

The smell lingers after he walks away, clinging to the back of his throat like smoke. But it’s the emptiness of it- the hollowness- that keeps him awake that night, staring at the ceiling and wondering which one of those 141 bastards let their Omega rot like this.

The next time König sees you, it’s in the armory.

You’re cataloging weapons, checking and re-checking the tags with mechanical precision, but your hands shake when you reach for the next one. Just a little. Just enough for him to notice.

König moves closer. Quiet, but not too quiet- he doesn’t want to startle you. You don’t look up until his shadow stretches over your workbench, and when you do, the look in your eyes hits him like a gut-punch.

Flat. Guarded. Resigned.

Like you’re expecting him to scold you.

König’s heart cracks wide open. He grips the edge of the table just to keep from reaching out.

“Doing good work.” He says softly, and you just blink.

It’s such a small thing- barely even a compliment- but your throat bobs like you’re swallowing something down. Then you duck your head and go back to your task, not looking at him again.

But you don’t flinch.

Not this time.

Nikto is next, and he doesn’t hesitate.

He remembers you. Remembers the way you’d stood shoulder to shoulder with him in the rain, eyes scanning the horizon with sharp focus as you both waited for the enemy to make their move.

You hadn’t been scared. Not even a little.

And now?

He catches you outside the rec room, sitting on the stairs with your knees drawn up to your chest. You don’t even react when he approaches, just keep staring at the floor like it might swallow you whole.

Now, you look like you’re drowning.

So Nikto doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t say anything. Just crouches down beside you and sets a cup of coffee at your feet before walking away.

You stare at it for almost five minutes before finally picking it up.

The next morning, he does it again. Same cup. Same coffee. Same wordless offering.

It becomes a routine- something quiet and steady, something you can rely on when everything else feels too heavy.

And then there’s Horangi, who pushes the hardest.

He pushes, because he knows you can take it.

You had before- back when you’d yelled at him for ignoring orders and running off alone, eyes blazing as you shoved him back toward the evac point. He’d liked your fire back then, liked the way you didn’t back down even when he towered over you.

But now?

Now your fire’s gone out, and there’s only one group to blame.

So Horangi pushes. Tests the waters, pokes at the edges, trying to find the spark he knows is still there. He is the loudest of the three, sharp and quick with his words, but he also knows when to keep them soft. He finds you cleaning your gear one night and sits down beside you without asking.

“You missed dinner.” He says casually, pulling out a protein bar and tossing it onto your lap. Pushing past the bubble you’ve wrapped around yourself, yet not being overbearing or too much.

You open your mouth to argue, but he cuts you off.

“I’m not your Alpha,�� he says with a shrug. “You don’t have to listen to me.”

You close your mouth. Look down at the protein bar. Then, without a word, you tear it open and take a bite.

Horangi grins. And just like that, he’s in.

And when you finally- finally- smile at one of his jokes?

He knows he’s got you.

141 starts noticing the shift almost immediately. Soap catches König lingering near you in the gym, eyes following the curve of your spine as you stretch, and something inside him snaps.

Ghost sees Nikto brush his fingers against yours when he hands you something, and his jaw clenches so tight he can hear his teeth grind.

Price overhears Horangi making you laugh- a real, honest-to-God laugh, a sound he can’t hear any longer even in his dreams- and has to excuse himself before he says something he can’t take back.

It gets worse when your scent starts to change; the bitterness fades first, then the sourness.

The first time Price catches a hint of warmth blooming underneath, it stops him dead in his tracks.

Because it isn’t for him. It isn’t for them.

It’s even worse to know that they drove you to it, and have no one to blame but themselves.

They let you fall through the cracks. Let the weight of their own issues and distractions leave you stranded in the dark, too far away for them to pull you back when they finally noticed you were gone.

And now? Now KorTac is picking up the pieces, with no hesitation.

König steadies you. Makes sure you eat, makes sure you rest, makes sure you feel safe even when the world outside is crumbling. Doesn’t push you away when you, big hand lingering on the curve of your spine until his scent is left there.

Nikto grounds you. Offers quiet comfort without demands, without expectations. Makes sure you know he’s there, always there, steady and unshakable. A lighthouse in the stormy seas, the hand that pulls you out of the swirling ocean.

Horangi pushes and pushes. Draws out smiles and laughter, reminds you what it feels like to be wanted. Finds excuses to bump shoulders or brush against you when you pass, just to see if you’ll let him.

And you do. You let all of them, slowly greeting them with the quietest little purr (cat activation noise).

Because it’s easier to be wanted by them than it is to be unwanted by your own pack.

And slowly- so slowly it hurts- you start to come back to life; your scent changes. Softens. Warms. The bitterness fades and the sourness disappears.

And all they can do is only watch as König takes the space they abandoned. As Nikto feeds the hunger they ignored. As Horangi brings back the fire they let burn out.

And they can’t do a damn thing about it.

Because the truth is- KorTac wanted you from the start, and now that they’ve got you?

They’re never letting go.

[ang3licsins]

SFW: ᯓ★

olderbf!simon: who fixes things around the house that needs fixing but only asks of you to help decorate since he doesn’t know shit about interior decoration. (because if so: he’d have guns hung up in every room of the house.)

olderbf!simon: who gets confused about tiktok trends so that one trend where you set your phone in front of him and say “can you guys watch my boyfriend for me? thanks” he just stares at the phone with those big brown eyes and just stares deep into the camera and starts randomly talking about new things he’s recently bought— (guns, knives, weapons in general, etc.)

olderbf!simon: who is rough and tough around the edges but after a long deployment, he just wants to be in your arms and forget all about his time away from you and home.

olderbf!simon: who loves your body no matter if you’re chubby or skinny. he loves you for how you are and he’ll haul you up and toss you over your shoulder like you’re as light as a bag of feathers because he adores you and sees you as the most precious thing on earth. (because in his eyes, you are!)

olderbf!simon: who kisses you randomly because he feels like he doesn’t show you enough love and needs you to know that he loves you because he doesn’t want you thinking he doesn’t love you whatsoever. (because, again, you’re his precious angel.)

olderbf!simon: who wasn’t too fond of kids until one time on deployment, a little girl came up and tugged on his pants leg and made ‘grabby hands’ which he grimaced at it but swallowed his pride and picked her up and she tugged on his mask numerous of times. (you eventually got a picture from price of the scene with a message along with it stating: “aye, seems riley has tha little one intrigued.”) but after that, simon came home from deployment and was blabbing all about wanting kids because he now has baby fever.

[fading-event-608]

Recently the syndicate of chemists in Lebanon has issued a statement warning people to not go near the blast sites due to alleged use of depleted uranium by Israel. (link - you need to scroll till the statement in Arabic). The screenshot of their statement on twitter was shared here on Tumblr and I’ve seen multiple people expressing scepticism regarding the source. Some people linked an article (link) from anti-Hezbollah 'democratic' newspaper 'L’Orient Today' to ‘fact-check’ - because of course they can’t read Arabic and are discontent with a twitter link.

This is my short summary of the article: they confirm that Israel has used Depleted Uranium (DU) weapons, not only in Lebanon but also in Gaza in June of this year and between October and December of last year. They establish a history of the use of Depleted Uranium, and include examples of its use in Iran in 2003. Israel doesn't directly talk about their use of DU, but neither are they hiding it - because there is no law that forbids the use of these bombs by Israel, there is no treaty regulating the use of DU weapons. There were several resolutions calling for a moratorium on the use of DU weapons in the UN and EU Parliament, the latest of which was in 2022, but these have failed to stop their use (those who have used them also includes both Russia and Ukraine). The article ends with an ominous addition that the Israeli army has been found guilty multiple times of using white phosphorus, which IS prohibited against civilians or civilian property under international law. (You probably can already tell that their defense is that they do not use it against civilians)

There is another article that was published in early September this year - LINK - I highly encourage you to read this one yourself, as it is quite short, especially when considering the amount of information it contains. As this one is more easily accessible, I won’t summarize it - please take it in yourself. I will say, however, that this article’s author, one Dr. Busby, worked with colleagues to conduct several investigations into the use of uranium-based weapons in both Lebanon and Gaza. In 2006, Dr. Busby asked his colleague to collect multiple samples from a crater left by what was suspected to be Depleted Uranium weapons. Samples from an ambulance air filter were also taken. Dr. Busby and company found not only the  presence of depleted uranium but also of Enriched Uranium. Here’s the paper: link.

Enriched Uranium. In 2006.

By 2024, all of the laboratories that Dr. Busby had used to Conduct the investigation have closed their doors either to him or in general. Busby’s letters to the UN, as well as papers detailing evidence of the use of enriched and depleted uranium are either dismissed or ignored, rendering it unlikely that there will ever be the “official” source for these claims that certain people now see fit to demand. And even if the UN did accept those letters and did push for ban of those weapons - would Israel comply? Genocide is ‘illegal’ under international law, and Israel still faces the case in ICJ, but what will that ICJ do if they rule that Israel is guilty? What would UN do if they accept evidence of Israel using uranium-based weapons? Scold them and write a fine?

The aspect of the deployment of nuclear weapons considered the most horrific is - and has always been - the fallout. The idea that all nuclear weapons would leave evidence - again, fallout - behind was born into the cultural consciousness through various cold war era PSAs, as well as other media inspired by these horrors, potential and otherwise. The weapons Israel is using here do not create fallout, however. But do not mistake them as harmless - they are still highly carcinogenic. They cause birth defects, as well as various other illnesses - mysterious illnesses, or at least mysterious until doctors attempting to treat them register that their patients have been exposed to enriched uranium, after which point the mystery goes away. 

In a sense, the horrors advertised by cold war PSAs and films like Doctor Strangelove, the promise of some explosive end brought about by some fool in the US pushing the wrong button - these serve to draw a veil over the continued use of nuclear weapons that have been ongoing since this technology was first harnessed for violence. This is a severe danger to the people of Gaza, and we can’t ignore it simply because we have developed in our minds too much faith in the loosest understandings of nuclear warfare.

I think many of you are familiar with a boiling frog story. The story goes that if you put a frog in a pot of boiling water, it will try to climb out. But if you put it in warm water and very slowly heat it, it will be so accustomed to the temperature it will eventually be boiled alive. It’s not very authentic, of course - in reality the frog will try to jump out as soon as it deems the water temperature uncomfortable. Just like you would try to get out of the bathtub as soon as it gets too hot for you or try to warm yourself up when you spend too much time outside in winter. 

But some of it still rings true. At what point will the UN, or ICJ, or some other white savior wannabe decide that Israel has done too much? What is that ‘too-much’ point that makes them try to protest, and what would that protest be?

As in case with Tumblr, it seems that the boiling point, in fact, has already passed and people grew accustomed to deaths of Palestinians. There are thousands of posts about the situation in Gaza, and the whole Palestine, Lebanon, Yemen, Syria… They get a lot of attention by both zionists and Palestine supporters. There are also hundreds of Gazans that came to Tumblr in hopes to escape the genocide by asking people to cover evacuation and survival costs. Do they get the same attention? Barely. Arguably zionists are more invested in interacting with those posts - they mass report them and harass Palestinians. And even if the fundraiser post gets a lot of attention, it does not necessarily translate into a lot of donations - people just assume that someone else will donate instead of them.

You can’t stop Israel all by yourself. You can’t convince the UN or try to progress the ICJ case by yourself. You can, however, do small acts that will contribute to Palestinian resistance. Go protest, go boycott, and please, please, please, go donate to Palestinian fundraisers.

Falastin’s family are under constant threat in Gaza. She’s been fundraising to save them since late June, and yet they’ve only recently gotten to just over 5% of their total goal - a little short of $10,000 USD. They’re still in Gaza, and still in need of funds for survival. The longer they are trapped there, the more they need - not just for food and water, but also for medicine, shelter, and clothes. Each time they’re displaced, due to inadequate time to pack, they lose more supplies, and their needs increase. Give what you can so that they can survive this, and please share their fundraiser as much as you’re able regardless of whether you can donate, just in case someone you know might be able to help. Not just here on Tumblr, on other social media, talk to your friends, coworkers, family, in group chats and in discord servers.

Please keep in mind conversion rates before donating:

10$ = 103 SEK

25$ = 260 SEK

50$ = 519 SEK

100$ = 1,038 SEK

[nicklloydnow]

“”The threat of nuclear use today, I believe, is as high as it has ever been in the nuclear age,” said Joan Rohlfing, president and chief operating officer of the Nuclear Threat Initiative, an influential nonprofit group in Washington, D.C.

In this environment, a conventional crisis runs a significant risk of turning nuclear. It only requires a world leader to decide to launch a nuclear attack. And that decision making process must be better understood.

Historically, scholarship on nuclear decision making grew out of economic theory, where analysts have often irrationally assumed that a “rational actor” is making decisions.

(…)

But growing scientific understanding of the human brain hasn’t necessarily translated into adjustments in nuclear launch protocols.

Now there’s a push to change that. The organization led by Rohlfing, for instance, is working on a project to apply insights from cognitive science and neuroscience to nuclear strategy and protocols — so leaders won’t bumble into atomic Armageddon.

But finding truly innovative, scientifically backed ideas to prevent an accidental or unnecessary nuclear attack is easier said than done. So is the task of presenting the work with adequate nuance.

Experts also need to persuade policymakers to apply research-based insights to real-world nuclear practice.

“The boundaries of that discourse are extraordinarily well protected,” said Anne I. Harrington, a nuclear scholar at Cardiff University in Wales, referring to internal pushback she says government insiders have faced when challenging the nuclear status quo. “So anyone who thinks that they’re going to make changes from the outside alone — I think that won’t happen.”

The world’s nuclear powers have different protocols for making the grave decision to use nuclear weapons. In the United States, absent an unlikely change to the balance of power among the branches of government, the decision rests with just one person.

“The most devastating weapons in the U.S. military arsenal can be ordered into use by only the president,” said Reja Younis of the Center for Strategic and International Studies in Washington, D.C., who is also a doctoral candidate in international relations at the Johns Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies.

(…)

“Which could range from ‘let’s do nothing and see what happens’ to ‘let’s full-scale nuclear attack,’” said Alex Wellerstein, a professor at the Stevens Institute of Technology in New Jersey and head of a research project called “The President and the Bomb.”

In the end, though, only the president makes the call — and they can forgo guidance from advisers. A president could just press the proverbial button.

“These are the president’s weapons,” Rohlfing said.

(…)

It was in this milieu that Deborah G. Rosenblum, the executive vice president of the Nuclear Threat Initiative, invited Moran Cerf, a neuroscientist who is currently a professor at the Columbia Business School, to give a lecture to the organization in 2018. He titled it “Your Brain on Catastrophic Risk.” (Today, Rosenblum serves in the Biden administration as assistant secretary of defense for nuclear, chemical and biological defense programs — an office that briefs the president on nuclear matters.)

(…)

The project includes a more public-facing arm: Cerf has been interviewing influential security experts like Leon Panetta, former secretary of defense and director of the CIA, and Michael S. Rogers, former director of the National Security Agency. Excerpts from these interviews will be cut into a documentary series, “Mutually Assured Destruction.”

(…)

Cerf has the rapid cadence of a TED Talk speaker. Born in France and raised in Israel, he went to college for physics, got a master’s in philosophy, joined a lab that studied consciousness at Caltech and then transitioned to and completed a Ph.D. there in neuroscience.

Along the way, he did mandatory military service in Israel, worked as a white-hat hacker, consulted on films and TV and won a Moth GrandSlam storytelling competition.

Cerf said his primary critique of the system for starting a nuclear war is that despite advances in our understanding of the fickle brain, the status quo assumes largely rational actors. In reality, he says, the fate of millions rests on individual psychology.

(…)

Cerf says one important factor is speaking order during the big meeting. If, for instance, the president begins with an opinion, others — necessarily lower in the chain of command — are less likely to contradict it.

The idea that the hierarchical order of speaking affects the outcome of a discussion is not new. “That’s a classic experiment done in the ’50s,” said David J. Weiss, a professor emeritus at California State University, Los Angeles, referring to studies conducted by the psychologist Solomon Asch.

(…)

The group’s main recommendation, though, mirrors proposals by other advocates: Require another person (or people) to say yes to a nuclear strike. Wellerstein, who did not contribute to the group’s research, says that such a person needs the explicit power to say no.

“Our belief is that the system we have, which relies on a single decision-maker, who may or may not be equipped to make this decision, is a fragile and very risky system,” Rohlfing said.

While Cerf and colleagues have other papers in the works, the research from the project that he has produced doesn’t address nuclear weapons head-on. In one paper, participants made riskier decisions when they pretended to be merchants seeking deals on unidentified fruits of unknown value.

Cerf says that research is relevant to scenarios of high risk and low probability — like starting nuclear war — which often have numerous sources of uncertainty. A nuclear decision-maker might be unsure of whether a missile is really in the air, how high a nuke’s yield is, why the missile was launched or whether more missiles will follow.

Another of Cerf’s studies focused on climate change. It found that when people were asked to stake money on climate outcomes, they would bet that global warming was happening, and they were more concerned about its impact, more supportive of action and more knowledgeable about relevant issues — even if they began as skeptics. “You basically change your own brain without anyone telling you anything,” Cerf said.

He thinks the results could be applied to nuclear scenarios because you could use bets to make people care about nuclear risk and support changes to policy. The findings could also be used to evaluate the thinking and prediction of aides who advise the president.

Some scholars of decision science don’t agree on such extrapolations.

“To go from there to giving advice on the fate of the world — I don’t think so,” said Baruch Fischhoff, a psychologist who studies decision making at Carnegie Mellon University.

Paul Slovic, a professor of psychology at the University of Oregon and president of the nonprofit Decision Research, said no psychological inquiry can stop at the experiment.

“You have to go back and forth between the laboratory studies, which are very constrained and limited, and looking out the window,” he said.

Experts say it’s also important to avoid selling too good a story about behavioral science to policymakers and elected officials.

“It’s just really easy to sell them stuff if you have enough bravado,” Fischhoff said.

— — —

Any brain, even a commander in chief’s, has a difficult time with the large-scale empathy required to understand what launching a nuclear weapon means. “We can’t really perceive what it means to kill 30 million people,” Cerf said.

There is a long-standing psychological term for this: psychic numbing, coined by Robert Jay Lifton. Just because humans are intelligent enough to master destructive weapons “does not mean that we’re smart enough to manage them after they’re created,” said Slovic, whose research has extended the concept of psychic numbing.

Compounding this effect is the difficulty of paying appropriate attention to all important information. And that compounds with the tendency to make a decision based on one or a few prominent variables. “If we’re faced with choices that pose a conflict between security and saving distant foreign lives to which we’re numb because they’re just numbers, we go with security,” Slovic said.

Slovic has also researched factors that tend to make people — including presidents — more likely to favor a nuclear launch. In one experiment, for instance, he found that the more punitive domestic policies a person supported — like the death penalty — the more likely the person was to approve of using the bomb.

Other researchers, like Janice Stein, a political scientist at the University of Toronto, have looked into scenarios where military officers show a reluctance to pass information up the chain of command that may trigger a nuclear launch.

That actually happened in 1983, when Col. Stanislav Petrov’s command center near Moscow received data suggesting the United States had launched intercontinental ballistic missiles. Petrov thought it could be a false alarm and decided not to send the warning to his superiors. He was right. Because the colonel feared a nuclear war fought under false pretenses more than he feared not retaliating, a third world war did not begin.

— — —

In the past, Wellerstein says, nuclear launch plans have adapted to changing circumstances, philosophies and technologies. And presidents have changed the protocols because of fears that emerged in their historical moments: that the military would launch a nuke on its own, that the country would experience a nuclear Pearl Harbor or that an accident would occur.

Perhaps today’s fear is that individual psychology governs a world-altering choice. Given that, working to understand how brains might work in a nuclear crisis — and how they could work better — is worthwhile.”

“In the late 1960s, U.S. and Soviet diplomats began to negotiate a series of treaties that imposed increasing constraints on the numbers and, in some cases, capabilities of nuclear forces. Six agreements entered into force starting in 1972. The sole remaining one is the 2010 Treaty on Measures for the Further Reduction and Limitation of Strategic Offensive Arms, known as New START. Under its terms, each country can deploy no more than 700 long-range ballistic missiles and heavy bombers and mount no more than 1,550 nuclear warheads on those delivery systems — numbers far below those possessed by both sides during the Cold War.

One of U.S. President Joe Biden’s first foreign policy actions was to approve an extension of New START, which was due to expire less than three weeks after he entered office. Moscow followed suit.

New START is now slated to expire in February 2026 and cannot be extended. In June 2021, Biden and Russian President Vladimir Putin announced their two countries would conduct a “strategic stability” dialogue to lay groundwork for future restraints. Only three meetings were held before Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine, bringing the dialogue to a halt.

Shortly thereafter, New START began to unravel. In August 2022, Russia refused to allow the U.S. to conduct an on-site inspection at one of its military bases as permitted by the treaty. Moscow then backed out of a meeting to discuss matters related to its implementation.

In January 2023, the U.S. State Department informed Congress that it could no longer certify Russia was complying with the treaty. A month later, Putin “suspended” Russia’s participation in New START, saying it would no longer exchange required information on the status of its nuclear forces.

(…)

Moreover, some in Moscow might be uneasy with the Kremlin’s irresponsible nuclear rhetoric. Recently, several prominent Russian arms control experts joined with former leaders and specialists from 50 countries to warn that the collapse or expiration of New START without a replacement “would threaten a destabilising arms race.”

A buildup of Russian long-range nuclear forces could have implications for U.S. nuclear policy. Even if an increase did not alter the strategic balance, political or diplomatic considerations could lead the U.S. to respond in militarily significant or visible ways.

Defense analysts have described U.S. policy options as ranging from “uploading” more warheads on existing delivery systems; to accelerating the ongoing programs to modernize the aging fleet of U.S. long-range ballistic missiles, bombers and submarines; to increasing the size of the planned U.S. nuclear force.

U.S.-Russian nuclear arms control, as it has been practiced for the past five decades, may have run its course. The prospect of negotiating a legally binding treaty to replace New START before it expires in 2026 diminishes with each day Russia’s war in Ukraine rages on and the Kremlin continues to take a hard line in dealing with the West.”

“What is clear is that America’s fastest growing nuclear rival — China — is focused on something far more concrete. It wants Washington to remove U.S. nuclear weapons from bases in NATO and pledge never to redeploy nuclear arms outside America’s borders.

Beijing is busy expanding its own nuclear arsenal with a renewed plutonium production effort. Nonetheless, it has repeatedly demanded Washington withdraw its forward-deployed nuclear weapons at Nuclear Nonproliferation Treaty (NPT) review sessions, the most recent of which concluded Aug. 11. Chinese diplomats insist the NPT should prevent states from placing nuclear weapons on other nations’ soil. Beijing even protested Vladimir Putin’s redeployment of nuclear weapons to Belarus last March.

Putting aside diplomatic legalities — U.S. experts believe the NPT allows nuclear sharing — Washington should call Beijing’s bluff by offering to freeze U.S. nuclear weapons redeployments to Asia in exchange for China freezing its plans to produce explosive plutonium.

(…)

In the early 1950s, the United States and its allies feared they lacked armies large enough to contain Russia and China. Their fix was to hold Moscow’s and Beijing’s forces at risk with American nuclear arms. In the early 1950s, though, the United States lacked intercontinental missiles or bombers. It had to “forward base” thousands of its nuclear weapons overseas — i.e., on NATO soil, U.S. Pacific bases, and bases in Japan, South Korea, Taiwan and the Philippines.

With the advent of accurate, long-range cruise and ballistic missiles, Washington withdrew almost all of these weapons. The reason why is simple: It’s much safer to launch U.S. nuclear warheads from secure bases in the United States or from submerged U.S. submarines than it is to protect them at bases in potential war zones. Still, America has plenty of nuclear weapons: Even with only 100 warheads now forward deployed in Europe, America has more than four times as many nuclear weapons deployed on planes and missiles than China.

China, of course, is doing all it can to close this gap. Meanwhile, it’s deathly afraid Washington might redeploy some of its 2,000 spare, stored warheads to U.S. bases in South Korea or Japan. Beijing’s worries may seem overwrought ��� but it’s hardly crazy.

Before his assassination a year ago, Japan’s most popular former president, Shinzo Abe, made a public case for the U.S. to redeploy nuclear weapons to Japan. President Yoon Suk-yeol made a similar case for South Korea earlier this year. The Biden administration responded by bringing Tokyo and Seoul further into America’s nuclear war planning confidence, but it’s unclear how well and how long this might allay Tokyo’s and Seoul’s nuclear anxieties.

A key reason why is China’s own nuclear weapons expansion efforts. Two years ago, the Pentagon estimated China had slightly more than 200 warheads and that it might double its arsenal by 2030. It and others now peg Beijing’s holdings at more than 400. The U.S. Defense Department estimates that by 2030, China’s nuclear arsenal will exceed 1,000 warheads.

The key ingredient that the Pentagon says will fuel China’s nuclear ramp-up is plutonium, which Beijing has launched a crash program to produce with two fast breeder reactors and two large plutonium reprocessing plants under construction. Perhaps as a nuclear security hedge, Japan has stockpiled nearly 2,500 weapons’ worth of plutonium for “peaceful” purposes, plans to open a reprocessing plant in 2025 that will make nearly as much annually, and just announced plans to build a fast breeder reactor too. South Korea also has plutonium fast reactor aspirations. The United States has fast reactors but no plans to fuel them with plutonium — yet.

All of this suggests a tightening nuclear knot best cut by calling Beijing’s bluff. It’s China’s nuclear build-up that’s fueling its neighbors’ nuclear fears. If Beijing is serious about blocking U.S. nuclear redeployments, the fix is for China to freeze its plutonium plants’ construction program. Washington should hurry this conclusion along by offering a moratorium on nuclear redeployments in Asia in exchange for an explosive plutonium production freeze that China and United States would adopt and encourage Japan and South Korea to embrace as well.

If Beijing blinks, Washington shouldn’t. At the 10th NPT Review Conference, President Biden noted that China was failing to live up to its obligation under the NPT to negotiate nuclear limits. He’s right. Officials are already preparing for the next NPT review conference, slated for 2026. The Biden administration should give President Xi, and the world, something to talk about — a plutonium production and nuclear redeployment freeze.”

[codnasties]

ghost masterlist👻

⟡ → short posts

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

ghost sharing

desperate ghost

cnc

gunplay

gunplay pt.2

big dicked ghost

more big dicked ghost

exchanging videos w/ ghost (1k special)

driving ghost around

cheater ghost

more cheater ghost

more cheater ghost pt. 2

fleshlight doll ⟡

dom!ghost and his lil princess

ghost taking care of soap's missus

cheater!ghost cucking his wife

ghost!ghost

facetime with ghost (5k special)

cheater!ghost x daughter's ballet teacher

bull rider!ghost (no link)

ghost's stress reliever

of w/ghost

ghoap marking you as theirs

using ghost's cock

post-argument sex

baptising his weapons

pegging

big loyal ghost

cheater!ghost and his arranger marriage

worshipping his cock

desperate fuck

price's fav nurse pt.2 (w/ghost)

breeding kink

can't hold back

teasing you through your panties

rough

night before deployment

cheater!ghost watching his wife get dicked down

ghoap x male reader

possessive ghost

ghoap initiating the new recruit

sub!ghost misbehaving

movie night

parking lot blowy

bathtub sex

sharing older!ghost's cock with soap

more breeding kink

tying you up

eating you out

ghoap x reader

cheater! ghost and his wife's besties

ghost and jealous!reader

needy ghost back from deployment

absentmindedly jerking ghost off

roleplay

ghoap sharing

ballerina!reader x ghost

fingering in front of ghoap

jerking off

shower action

car sex

disagreements w/ghoap

ghost's cock

ghost and price sharing a lass

more ghost back from deployement

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

main masterlist

[rowarn]

cw: gun play, throat fucking with a gun im sorry, simon coming untouched, masturbation (reader) I NEEDED TO GET THIS OUT OF MY BRAIN SO unedited

simon with a gun kink that he's kept hidden would be crazy.

imagine ur big, beefy husband coming home after a long deployment. he's tense, his fists are clenched tight and it's clear he's got a ton of steam he needs to blow off.

at first, you expect a normal night together of him plowing you into the mattress so hard that the bed creaks and hits the wall with every thrust. the kind of fucking that leaves you trembling for 15 minutes after you've finished and cleaned up. the kind that has him pulling you into his arms to soothe and coo at.

but something is different this time.

he starts removing his gear one by one as usual but instead of removing the holster with his gun and safely placing it down, he unholsters the gun completely.

you're watching with bated breath as he unloads the weapon, carefully pulling it back and peering into the chamber. you're watching his hands move, admiring how strong his fingers are and how the veins in his hands bulge out with every movement

you deviously excited by the time he approaches you -- the gun still in his hand.

he brings it up, placing the nozzle against your chin, finger hovering off the the trigger. but you know how well-trained he is -- how good he is at his job. you know that he could have that finger on the trigger in a milisecond, faster than you would even be able to comprehend.

"open," he orders, a voice that sends shivers down your spine. it's firm, rough, authoritative. it's a tone you imagine he uses when he's on the field.

soliders bow to his every whim and you're no better. but unlike those who are trained to obey him because it's their job -- you obey him because you know if you do, you'll get the sweetest reward in the world; that thick, full cock still hidden in his pants.

your panties are already wet and sticky and your brain’s already feeling fuzzy by the time you open your mouth. 

the shock of cold is the first thing you recognize followed by the tang of metal as the weapon settles on your tongue. your lashes flutter as you look up at your husband, face still obscured by his balaclava but his pretty, brown eyes burn holes into you nevertheless.

he slowly and carefully slides the gun deeper into your mouth until it presses against the back of your throat and you involuntarily gag. a groan rips from his cheeks as he watches the tears gather on your lashline.

"that's it, pretty," he coos, "bet you wish that was my cock huh?" you nod your head as best you can with the weapon lodged in your throat, "maybe i'll give it to you if you put on a real nice show for me."

his words take a moment to register in your fuzzy brain but once they do, your hand is flying down between your legs at record speed. you slip it beneath the band of your panties, barely lifting his shirt that you're wearing out of the way so you can finally find relief in the ache that has settled in your cunt.

your folds are wet and sticky as they part around your fingers and you struggle to swallow around the gun in your mouth. there's no give to the metal and drool begins to dribble down your shin in long, thin strings.

simon's cock is hard, heavy and leaking against his thigh. this has been one of his best kept secrets, to watch you submit to his gun -- to the weapon he has used to murder countless people with.

and here you were, doing as you're told, throating his gun while you play with your pretty cunt. he can hear how wet you are, can see the way you desperately hump your own hand trying to get your fingers deeper and deeper. but they'll never feel as good as his, you both know this.

so all you can do is tearfully look up at him through clumped lashes as you choke and gag on the gun he continues to keep stuffed down your throat.

his cock throbs at the thought of being where his weapon is now. he envies it.

you mutter something, muffled and incomprehensible but he knows what you're saying. he can see the way your pupils blow out, hear the way your breathing grows erratic and choppy. you're trembling and breathless, messily jerking your hips into your own hand as you desperately look up at him -- begging for anything to push you over the edge.

his finger finally lands on the trigger of his gun and he sees your eyes widen but the desperate, teary look you give him only tells him more of what you need.

there's a muted, empty click when he pulls the trigger. the gun is empty, you both know this -- but it sends you over the edge anyway.

simons cock twitches and twitches, balls tight and heavy before he's spurting his load down his thigh at the sight of you cumming on your own fingers and moaning around his gun.

the hand holding the weapon trembles as he cums untouched at the entire scene. you pull your head back, gasping for air before pulling your hand out of your panties.

simon lurches forward, you don't even have time to react before he's taking the sticky, messy, cum-covered fingers into his mouth.

he's on top of you, pressing you down beneath his weight, the gun tossed and forgotten on the bed because now all he can think about is fucking you into the mattress. <3

[lay-z]

COD VACATION AU | PRT. 1 — SURPRISE

— poly!141 × fem!Reader

— 18+ | established romantic relationship; eventual smut; fluff; humor; cussing; all the good stuff:)

You've already booked and taken care of everything by the time your four boyfriends return from their deployment—much thanks to Kate Laswell for giving you a 48 hour head start with her call (the one that nearly gave you a bloody heart attack).

Once they walk over the threshold of the house you five share, you go through the usual routine with them—lots of welcome home cuddles and kisses, a hearty meal and a stiff drink, long showers and, depending who is up for it, sex.

Kate didn't exaggerate when she said they need a break; their eyes are sunken with dark circles, their bodies battered with bruises and sore muscles, their poor hands calloused and swollen from handling gear and weapons for weeks, their tummies too flat and lean for your liking after losing a bunch of weight again.

Johnny's bright blue eyes are lacking their sparkle and his mohawk has grown out, Kyle's usually flawless skin and plump lips are dry and chapped, Simon's acne on his face and back has returned full force, and John's beard looks like a rat's bushy nest.

It's quite a sad sight, truly, and it triggers your maternal caretaker instincts like crazy.

"So, uhm–" You're shifting on your feet in front of the large couch they're currently all sprawled on top of each other like a bunch of lazy alley cats.

"I've got some exciting news."

That makes their heads perk up in unison.

"Ye're pregnant!" Johnny exclaims first, eyes wide and regaining some of that sparkle until he earns a light smack against the back of his head from Simon, who's shushing him gruffly.

"Let 'er speak, ya numpty. 'm bloody tired of yer voice."

Johnny pouts. Kyle snorts, hazel eyes half-lidded and glassy with fatigue as he glances over at the two. He's snuggled up to John, his head resting on the older man's broad shoulder.

The Captain, who's been holding his breath since your little announcement, keeps his steel blue eyes trained on you like a hawk while his arm wraps around Kyle's shoulders supportingly.

"Go on, sweetheart. What's it you'd like to share with us?"

You flash a sugary smile, wanting nothing more than to make them feel better now that they're finally back home with you, safe and sound.

"Okay, so," you make a vague gesture at them, "you're all clearly exhausted and in dire need of a nice break–"

A gruff chorus of yes and aye comes from them, making you giggle as you shush them.

"Anyway, so... I booked us all a very nice apartment for ten days in Mallorca. Islas Baleares, baby!"

Crickets. Nothing. Your smile slowly fades by the milliseconds as you gauge their—nonexistent—reactions.

Kyle's chest is rising and falling slowly as he nuzzles John's chest, his lips slightly parted. Simon's head has tipped back against the sofa's backrest, his mask rucked up and exposing his open mouth as he snores, his large hand buried in Johnny's hair, kneading the short brown strands self-soothingly while the latter is snoring just as loudly, his bearded face buried into Simon's neck.

You really can't blame them, but your bottom lip still juts out in a pout.

"Not the best time for big announcements, love." John chuckles all gravelly, still somewhat conscious, though his eyes have fluttered shut as well. "Sounds great, though. I can't... wait." He yawns mid-sentence and your heart flutters as you drink in your sweet bunch of tough, yet very sleepy, soldiers.

"Yeah, I figured." You whisper, though more to yourself, as you walk towards the switch to turn the light off. "I'll try again tomorrow."

John gives a small approving wave, hand barely lifting off his thigh, before he's knocked out cold as well.

As you make your way upstairs towards the master bedroom, your steps feel a little lighter and you can breathe a little easier knowing your men are asleep downstairs—and you know, they'll come crawling under your blanket one by one as the night progresses.

Let's get these men to a tropical island, shall we? ☺️🌴🌤🌊⛱️🍹

× NEXT PART

[writersdrug]

For the alpha/omega one, forced proximity on one of his missions he gets sent on, and she is basically standard issue along with his weapon. She’s around his stuff/in his bunk 24/7, her sent slowly permeating everything, eventually his mask, driving him crazy/rut if that’s interesting. She gets captured, he starts to realize how much he’d unconsciously relied on her, goes feral, tears enemy base apart and she nurses him back to health? Hehehehe I love feral könig

Oh, he's pissed.

Warnings: mentions of violence, attempted sexual assault (very minor and brief, guy gets what's coming to him)

When Ridgeback had informed the team that they had a new assignment, König was sighing in relief. Finally, a moment away from that damned omega. A chance to prove that he didn't need some weak, not-so-self-sustainable thing to "improve his performance" (if anything, you were just making him grumpier, with how often you complained about the standard-issued nesting material. He already said he'd buy you some new blankets, ok?!).

But then, Ridgeback announced that any partners belonging to the soldiers would be included on the deployment. Meaning omegas. Meaning you.

You weren't happy, either. You thought you were going to get an entire two weeks to yourself, including the entirety of König's room and bathroom and a chance to roll around in his clothes and scent uninterrupted. You'd get to chat it up with the sweet beta corporals that accompanied you to the mess hall in your Alpha's absence. But now? Being flown out to god-knows-where with König, a.k.a. Chuckles? With even fewer nesting materials of an even lesser quality? Great. Just perfect.

König hated how you were everywhere. He hated how your scent, ocean breeze and warm sandalwood, had clung to every article of clothing he owned. He hated how you built your (rather lackluster) nest in the top bunk with a literal wall of pillows around you - he wasn't even in there with you, why were you adding insult to injury? He hated that you were even here in the first place. Who's idea was this?! Now he has to growl at anybody that approaches his table in the dingy cafeteria where the two of you eat in silence, or sit in in the briefing room with you squished to near death in the corner, just to keep you away from other alphas. Not to mention, projecting his scent to cover yours is very inconvenient, you should really stop smelling so nice.

It was a breath of fresh air when they finally landed at the objective rally point for the mission - but the gunshots and acrid smell of blood did little to drown out the thoughts of you. What were you doing without him there to scowl at you? He didn't like the idea of some random beta from this random base taking you to meals, but it was better than an Alpha, he supposed. Your scent clung to his mask, and although it made his senses keener and sharper, he really wished it would just go away, so he could stop thinking of you and focus on the mission. Thankfully, it didn't last too long.

Thank goodness he was still in overdrive when the heli touched base, though - because he quickly found out that you were not where you should be: in his room. He'd have half a mind to think you ran off to do your own thing, if it wasn't for the sour scent in the room, rather than your usual sweet, slightly angry notes. You didn't leave intentionally.

Everyone was instantly on edge when he burst out of the room, nostrils flaring and pupils shrunken in his rage. Horangi rushed after him as König stormed throughout the base, following the trail of your scent (he has to make sure his friend doesn't kill anyone - innocent, that is). He hadn't claimed you yet; a decision he was regretting more and more by the second. What kind of Alpha was he? Leaving you alone on a foreign base without a nice, toothy mark on your neck. No, he didn't need you (🙄), but you were his. He should have made that clear. He didn't like it when people tried to take his omega.

It didn't take long before he heard you - some idiot Alpha had dragged you into the back of a humvee, and König could see your limbs kicking and scratching underneath the man (who had a decent, bloody scratch on his face - good on you). Your snarls and hisses echoed through the cracked windows - which König promptly shattered as he smashed his arm through it, grabbing the sergeant by his collar and pulling him out through the broken glass. You suddenly froze at the sound of the man being punched relentlessly, smelling a familiar cinnamon, woodsmoke, and earth, combined with the smell of blood. König's scent smelled like straight blood when he was angry, and it was terrifying, even to you.

Horangi was quick to interject König and his death sentence to the sergeant, pulling him off of the smaller Alpha - a bold move, even dangerous, but their pack bond was thicker than iron, and König wouldn't mistakenly swing on his friend.

Horangi shoved König back, muttering a quick "get your omega", before pulling the now-unconscious sergeant up by his armpits. "I'll do something with him."

König took a moment to clear his head, breathing in deeply and exhaling through clenched teeth. He then moved to the other side of the car with stride, yanking open the back passenger door and reaching in. You made a sound, a frightened squeak, still alert and cautious, as he promptly dragged you out from the back seat. After a quick brush of your clothes with his hand, making sure there's no lingering shards of glass on you, he tossed you over his shoulder with a grunt and made back for the barracks, leaving Horangi to deal with the soldier.

You assumed you're in deep waters with him now. König didn't say a word to you, just stormed through the halls and huffed at anyone he passes. You were a bit embarrassed by the whole ordeal: you had been dragged out, kicking and screaming (and gave a proper, internal fuck you to the surrounding personnel that did nothing) from the barracks, and now here you were, being dragged right back in - just without the protest.

He reached your shared quarters and shoved his bulky frame inside, kicking the door shut behind him. You were about to explain yourself when he slipped you off of his shoulder and put you back on your feet - then promptly leaned down and shoved his face into your neck, inhaling rather obnoxiously while gripping you by your arms. You whined at the sudden, atypical behavior, gently pushing against his chest to get away from the behemoth of a man. He ignored it, picking you up again and carrying you into his bunk bed. He drags you in between himself and the wall, chuffing when you fit so nicely against his frame. Had you always been so comfortable? Why didn't someone convince him to hold you like this sooner?

You, on the other hand, were not as comfy. This wasn't your nest - you didn't have that stupid, grey, felt blanket that was five feet too long, nor the extra pillows you had stolen from the empty room across the hall. You didn't have your border, your flimsy wall of protection against the rest of the world. You squirmed in König's grip, shoving against his taut abdomen and trying to climb over him. He growled, a sound that had you bristling for a moment, but you pushed past it.

"Gimme a sec-"

"Schatz, please-"

"Just a minute!"

He huffed and let you go; you scrambled over him and out of his bed, the thick, muscular cords of his abdomen tensing as you used it to support your weight. He lay on his back and sighed. He just saved you from some cocksure, weaker Alpha - weren't you thankful? I mean, really - this was truly insulting. Here he was (oh, look, his fist was bleeding from smashing the car window, didn't that show you he was a good protector? A good mate?), fresh off of deployment, fighting the demons of the world just for you, and you had the audacity to turn your nose away from him and shuffle back to your precious little nest. How sweet of you. Very appreciative, liebe. Why don't you-

He was torn from his thoughts when a blanket was tossed over him. He pulled it back, confused, as he felt you shoving pillows into his side. You tucked them around him, forming a barrier around the side of him that was closest to the edge of the bed. He watched as you fussed for a bit, beating and fluffing the pillows until they were just right. You then tossed one more onto the bed - one that was wearing his shirt as a case, which had him melting - and climbed overtop of him again.

His chest rumbled with an affectionate sound as you took a damp bathroom towel and began wrapping it around his busted hand. You held it against your chest as you curled into his side once more, not protesting or scrunching your face when he wrapped his other hand around your waist and rubbed your back. He preened when he felt the reverberations of your purr against his hand, your sweet scent filling the air and causing him to relax his shoulders and neck muscles. It permeated his brain and made his Alpha sigh with relief, happiness, and satisfaction. Your scent was finally untainted by that bitter, angry note that you usually had.

"Thanks for... today." you said, deciding to leave the details unspoken. "Sorry about the-"

"Don't be sorry." he rumbled, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your lower back. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"You couldn't be."

"Well, now I am."

You sighed, letting your eyes flutter shut. He's not so bad... getting sent off by my family to some random military company was bad, sure, but... my Alpha's a good one. This could be good.

"You're purring very loudly, schatz."

"Shut up."

[nerdygirlramblings]

Hello! Ive been binging poly!141 and I keep coming back to your writing for my fix (because by now its basically an addiction😅)

I had this idea that the 141 are together with a civilian reader. And civilian reader works in retail, part time, and is mostly at home. Normally, they would be home by the time their boys came home, welcoming them with open arms, a hot plate of food, and time to rest and relax. But this time, the 141 get home early and realize where reader works: Walmart (or equivalent). Reader has been keeping this a secret cause they know its not cute like a coffee shop or cool. Its just their job. And now the most important men in their life know. Im thinking the 141 found out because they went grocery shopping and happened to come across reader or something similar to that.

I work at Walmart and it sucks🥲 thought that maybe something like this might help😅

Tysm, nonny! So happy to hear you like the writing. I hope this does your idea justice. (Walmart doesn't have stores in the UK, but they own ASDA.)

Also, thank you for my first request! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

pure fluff, bad accents (per usual)

Your boys find out you work part-time at ASDA on a random rainy Thursday in March.

You don't really need a job. All four of your lovers are officers with the British army. Prior to you, they all lived in base barracks. Prior to you, they lived fairly Spartan existences. Prior to you, most of their income sat in the bank, quietly accumulating.

They have plenty of money saved up that they love using to spoil you, when you let them. You know that if you asked, they'd give you everything, but you draw the line about asking them for an allowance like some tradwife. You want some pocket money of your own. Thus, the part-time job at the ASDA in town.

You're a people person, good at handling big personalities. You need to be to keep up with your boys. Between John's need for control, Simon's stoic dominance, Johnny's aggressive enthusiasm, and Kyle's blinding charisma, you aren't some shrinking violet. Within a week of your hire, your manager watches how you weather a nasty piece of work trying to demand concessions you aren't permitted to give and immediately puts you in customer service.

You're nearly unflappable in the face of frustrated pensioners and harried parents and entitled young professionals. Over and over, you're the one they call when a customer is going spare. Which is how your boys find out about your job.

They've been deployed for over two weeks, and you have no idea when they'll return. John had originally said they'd be gone for at least a month, so you aren't expecting them home any time soon. However, they'd come home much earlier than anyone thought, and they wanted to surprise you.

You're always so good about making the house feel like a home, with your bright smile and warm laughter, your home cooked food and soft touches in decor. You make them feel like people, not weapons, and they want to return the favor. This last deployment had been hard, and all four of your boys were missing your sweet voice and tender care. They wanted to show you that they loved and cared for you the way you always showed your love and care for them.

It was Johnny's suggestion to prep a meal for you as both a surprise and a thank you. After debrief, they pile into the car and decide to stop at ASDA for everything they need before heading home to surprise you. It's John who causes the code call.

You hear Susan's voice over the store-wide address system. "We could use a little Sunshine in the floral department." That's your cue. You finish with the pensioner at your till as Jacob, your manager, comes over to relieve you.

You take a deep breath and square your shoulders. In your experience, a Sunshine call in floral is a man angry the store doesn't have the fancy arrangements listed on the website. You wish the signage on the site would be more clear that the beautiful bouquets are online orders only. It would save you having to explain why the offers in store are so limited.

You hear him before you see him, smokey voice grumbling, "But if they show the bloody thing on the site as available, you should have it hear." You'd recognize the voice anywhere. He's not angry, not really, but Susan doesn't know that. Add in the sheer size of him, and Simon looming over his shoulder, it's no wonder she called for support.

You have never wanted to walk away from a situation as much as you want to right now, but before you can make an escape, Susan notices you over John's shoulder. Her little wave is enough for your men to notice, and they turn as one to see you coming towards them. Immediately their demeanor shifts. Simon's back sags as though his strings were cut, leaving him loose-limbed. John stands a little straighter, chin up as if to impress you. They've both broken out in smiles, though Simon's are only evidenced by the laugh lines you know to look for. It's only as you get close do they zero in on the badge on your shirt.

"I've got this, Susan," you say to your co-worker. "Jacob's on my till. Can you cover?"

Susan wrings her hands. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay and-"

"They're nothing I can't handle," you tell her, cutting off her worried rambles. There's a cheeky glint in your eye as you flick your gaze at your men. You clap your hands together and say, "Right, let's get this settled, then."

Susan takes one quick look between you and the now slightly less intimidating men and heads towards the front of the store.

Once she's out of earshot, John's face breaks into a frown. "What're you doing here, love?" He glances at your name on your chest again. "You work here?" He sounds almost hurt by the revelation. You can tell Simon wants to reach for you, and the only thing stopping him is you working.

You hear heavy footfalls behind you as Johnny's Scottish lilt reaches your ears. "Och, Cap! Ye said ye'd only be a moment. Gaz and I had a hell of a time getting the trolley on its lift ta find ye. How hard is it to buy bon..." His question dies on his lips as you turn around. "Bonnie?" He, too, sounds hurt to find you working here.

You can see Kyle over Johnny's shoulder, confusion written across his features. This is not how you wanted your boys to find out about your job, if you ever wanted them to actually find out. You thought maybe you'd surprise them with tickets to Hereford FC's opening game in a few months. And if they asked how you afforded them, you could handle this conversation then, but it's out of your hands now.

And as much as you don't want to have this conversation, especially not in the middle of the floral department, you can't stop the wide grin at seeing your boys again, home and whole.

"Hi, boys," you say, opening your arms. Disappointed he might be about finding you here, Johnny's no fool. He immediately steps into your embrace, and the others quickly follow suit. You're swallowed up by the smell and feel of them. The hug lasts one minute. Then two. Then they all slowly step back.

You can see the questions and cut them off before they get started. "I have another three hours before I'm off. We can talk at home, and I'll tell you anything you want to know."

John nods first. He recognizes your tone. You won't let them derail you for answers now, and they would be wasting their breath to try. "You heard the lady, lads. Let's get home."

They start to walk away when you tease, "Captain? Was there a reason you were arguing with Susan about the flowers?"

He halts his steps and turns to you, flush creeping up his neck. He brings his hand up to rub it as he says, "Er, I, we, wanted to get ya something nice, but they don't have the same ones as online."

You melt a little, watching the way your men shift nervously behind their captain. You smile softly and reach over, plucking a bouquet of rainbow poms from the rack. "These are what I usually get for myself when you're away."

John takes them gently from your hand and passes them to Gaz to put in the trolley. "We'll see you at home, love," he murmurs, leaning over briefly to kiss your cheek. Simon kisses the top of your head, fabric brushing your hair. Johnny pulls you in for another bruising hug and kisses your other cheek. Gaz puts his hands on your waist, drinking in the sight of you, before taking your hands in his and kissing your palms.

You watch them leave, wondering how you'll make it through the rest of your shift.

Three hours and fifteen minutes later, you cross the threshold of your shared home to the most delicious scents wafting from the kitchen. After slipping your shoes off next to the piles of boots at the door, you follow your nose back to the kitchen and the spread laid out on the large wood-topped island. There's a roast and mushy peas and mashed potatoes and stewed carrots and battered cod and crisps and spinach all surrounding the flowers you'd suggested, nestled in the vase you love most, the Caithness one Johnny'd bought you on your first trip with them to Scotland.

At the table, your men sit, plates made for everyone, waiting on you. They've changed since you saw them. Gone are any traces of fatigues and tactical gear. Instead they're all in casual civvies, truly home for the first time in nearly three weeks. Simon stands as you come in and pulls out your chair, smile on his scarred lips. "Come sit, doll," he tells you, not quite an order.

You look quickly around. "Let me change," you say, tugging at your uniform top. "I won't be but a minute." You back out of the room before they can stop you. You hurry to your bedroom, pulling your top off as you go. Once behind the door, you slip from your trousers into comfortable leggings and a large jumper, one of Kyle's you think.

By the time you make it back to the kitchen, your men are more than a little antsy. Simon's smile is a little strained, Johnny is fidgeting, Kyle keeps glancing between you and John, and John is staring at you. Your chair is still out. He waves a hand at it, and gently says, "Come sit, love." It's couched as request, but you know a command from your lover when you hear it.

You take your seat at the table. "Listen-" you start, but John cuts you off.

"Are we not providing for ya, love?" You see the hurt in his eyes, how much it bothers him to think he, they, aren't doing enough for you.

"Oh, John, dear, no!" you reply, putting your hand over his on the table. "It's not that at all."

"Then what?" Simon asks.

You look at them all, the expectant faces waiting to hear how they failed you. "I get restless sometimes. I love you, and I love our life. I'm happy to take care of the house and make sure you're all fed after a long day. But I wasn't built for sitting around doing nothing. I like people; being home on my own all day can get lonely. Especially when you're deployed. I also like having my own pocket money."

John opens his mouth, and you know what he's about to say, so you continue. "I know you'd give me any money I need or want, but I like having my money. Money I earned myself." You look around at them, willing them to understand. "It's only part time. Helps me keep a little busy and have a little extra to spoil you and me with."

Johnny is frowning, but you see Kyle, head cocked, looking at you as a puzzle. "I think I understand," he says softly. "You were making you way just fine before us, and you gave up everything for us."

At his words, the crease between John's brow deepens, and you're sure he's remembering the job you had, that you'd somewhat enjoyed, when you'd first met them. You'd been working at RAF Lakenheath, living in a cozy flat in Cambridge, near The Backs, when the 141 had been coming through the base after an op. An injury had put Kyle in the med center for a week, and while he could have been transported to Hereford once stable, Laswell had worked it out for the whole team to have some R&R near the base.

You'd quite literally run into John one day, rushing to your office, after which he suggested lunch as an apology. You quickly became close with all four, smitten with them from the start. In turn, they fell hard for you. They wooed you over the course of several weeks, stopping through Lakenheath on deployments to spend some time with you. Six months in and you were completely gone on all four of them, so when they'd asked you to move to Hereford, you did without ever looking back. But it meant giving up the life you'd led.

Somewhere along the way, your happiness overshadowed all you'd left behind. After a few weeks, being home alone while your men worked started to feel isolating. You liked being a little busy, and there weren't enough projects around the house to keep you busy enough. You'd always been independent, but you didn't want to be stuck in a job with long hours anymore. You wanted to be home for your men. So you'd found the job at ASDA.

Kyle reaches over to where you hand is still on John's. "I'm sorry we didn't ask how you were coping us being gone all day," he says. He looks you in the eye as he continues. "I understand wanting to do something, wanting to be a little busy, and if this makes you happy, then I'm all for it, doll." He gives you a small smile and squeezes your and John's hand.

"Gaz is right," Simon rumbles. "We were so happy to have you here we didn't think about what you did all alone all day." He puts a heavy hand on your thigh, the warmth of him seeping through your thin leggings. "'m glad you have something to keep you from getting lonely."

"Sorry, hen," Johnny murmurs, just above a whisper. "We didnae think a' ye enough." You smile widely at him.

"Johnny, you think of me all the time. This isn't about neglect at all!" You try to catch his eye, but he's looking hard at the table in front of him. "You did nothing wrong, love," you tell him gently.

He looks at you, blue eyes bright. "Ye sure?" You've never seen him this nervous before, and you break a little.

"I'm sure love."

He smiles then, a little smile, but it brightens his face and shifts the mood in the room. You look at John who's been surprisingly quiet this whole time.

He's smiling, but it's a little sad. "I know ya said we didn't do anything wrong, but we feel like we did. We didn't notice you were bored, didn't ask if you were lonely." He flips his hand over under yours and threads your fingers with his. "Yer giving us a gift by not blaming us, and we'd be stupid not to take it, even though it feels like yer giving us an out. Thank you." He brings your hand to his lips and kisses it softly.

"Thank you. I was worried you'd be mad," you admit.

"Never could make us mad with something like this, hen," Johnny reassures you. "I'm sorry we had to spoil your day is all."

You turn back to look at the food on the island. "You didn't spoil my day. You made it. You're home early, and you made such a lovely spread. I think we should tuck in, yeah?"

Simon chuckles. "Point made, doll," he says, scooping a heaping helping of mash onto his fork. The rest take it as a sign to start eating too.

The room is silent save for the sounds of food savored until John pipes up, "Why'd ya come to florals, love? We might have missed ya altogether if not for that."

You giggle. "The sunshine call, John."

"Yeah?" He clearly doesn't understand.

"It's the shop call for a difficult customer. When I'm on shift, it's my job to handle those." You look at each of your lovers in turn. "Seems I've got a knack for dealing with muppets," you tell them with a smirk.

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