#reconnaissance operation

[nocternalrandomness]

"Spooky II"

[replaye]

Force Reconnaissance

[collectate]

HATE BUSES 😡 RAH

[commissionerjanky]

Operation Ice Pick Part 5: Sisters

[moondirti]

big fan of the headcanon that simon riley is hard to get.

if we're being realistic, he's probably gotten very good at ignoring any inclination he might have towards a person in the years since his families' murder. it's easier to function as a soldier, as ghost, when he doesn't have to carry the burden of concern for someone so vulnerable. whether it's worrying about their safety while he's on deployment and can't afford to, or otherwise repressing his darker tendencies in an effort not to break them; the extra effort just isn't worth it to him. he won't seek you out, he won't take care of you, he won't reassure and coddle and communicate.

and he's not blind, nor is he passionless. he can appreciate a pretty face when one happens to pass by, but that's pretty much the extent of it. he's gotten used to the scorch of the lonely flame that flickers inside of him. if anything, he thinks putting it out and tending to the burns left in its wake would be a more traumatic ordeal than just letting it consume him.

so for him to accept love, it'd have to sneak up on him.

it happens with johnny first. he's the natural candidate, of course. his stubborn subordinate, clever with a fixated loyalty and quick wit – who better than him to get under ghost's skin?

granted, he isn't as guarded around him as he would've been with a civilian. not as cold upon introduction because he doesn't need to be. soap's a soldier, and this is work, and he's confident enough in the sergeant's resilience that it doesn't hinder his routine. he doesn't have to make accommodations, bend backwards or wake up in a cold sweat concerned about the man's wellbeing; not at first, anyway. and such are the floodgates that allow him to embrace johnny's company.

jokes crackled over comms. sitting next to each other on the airlifter. claps on the back after a successful operation. trust in every decision he chooses to take, regardless of whether or not he agrees. he thinks about johnny's eyes, johnny's smile, johnny's fierce little pout and the scar on his chin – but everything in moderation. the perfectly healthy amount. passing appreciation of his best mate's features and nothing more. it's the only meaningful connection he's had in years, and so what if he tugs his cock to the thought of it? people have cum to less.

until the bastard gets himself shot in the liver on solo reconnaissance in cyprus, and almost dies on medevac.

because when ghost gets that call from price – soap's hurt. it's looking grim. – he's wracked with a terror so acute he thinks his heart has given up on him. it's about the worst way to find out that he considers johnny as more than a friend. this sheer desperation, longing, regret. he ponders over it in the plane, tries to scrub the dread from his being. tries to pick apart what went wrong, what makes the sergeant so special.

by the time he reaches the hospital, he's already accepted defeat. all it takes is one look at johnny in his hospital bed – features peaceful, bandages wrapped around his bare chest, mohawk and facial hair grown out – to understand that this isn't going away anytime soon. he'll just have to make his peace with it. readjust to accommodate the protective flare already sparking in his chest.

it's a hassle, but manageable. despite his injury, johnny's still a competent man. they already know how to function in bouts of high stress. they're good– great friends. all this is really is an opportunity for simon to finally dig his cock within an ass he's been eyeing for months – or at least, that's the rationale he uses to come to terms.

and then you arrive. and things get a whole lot more complicated.

johnny's bird, apparently – gaz whispers to him outside of the inpatient room, watching through the window as you fret over the comatose man's pillows – didn' know he had one. m'surprised. you'd think a loudmouth like him would let the world know. she's cute too. really, ghost, did you have any idea?

he can't find it in him to respond, opting instead to march back into the room. you're fussing too much, causing a scene, no doubt disturbing the air with the nervous energy radiating off you in waves.

"he isn' supposed to be elevated like tha'," simon scolds, inflating a bit when you straighten up, eyes blowing wide with distress.

"oh... i just thought- he gets all hot when he lays on his back like this. i wanted him to be comfortable."

he knows that he's being cruel. you've done absolutely nothing to deserve the harsh glare he shoots your way, nor should you be expected to handle it. your eyes are red-rimmed, puffy like you've been crying on the way over. no doubt unused to crises like this one. he should be a help, not another source of stress.

besides. johnny's your boyfriend, not his. he has no reason to be so territorial. he'd only just discovered his feelings eight hours ago.

but–

"are you a doctor?"

"n-no."

"then it's best you keep your opinion to yourself."

he just can't help himself.

over the next week, ghost treats you with nothing more than cold disregard. he side-eyes you when you cry, wakes you up with rough pokes to your shoulder once visiting hours close, and takes every chance to one-up you when it comes down to who knows johnny better. you've got a leg up in the domestic department, but simon knows that nothing can surpass the borderline psychic bond they've built, and he makes sure to emphasise it whenever he can. and fuck, does it annoy him that you take it with grace every time, nodding receptively as though his input is meant to be more than just a searing critique of your shortcomings.

his behaviour doesn't go unnoticed, either. gaz is infinitely perplexed to see that the usually controlled lieutenant is so quick to lose his temper around you, despite your earnest efforts to not be a nuisance, and all price offers are long, disapproving looks that have him itch uncomfortably in his seat.

on the other hand, you must believe that he's just like that – foul mouthed, disparaging, mean – because you don't take it to heart. you remain pleasant, gentle, if not a little bit emotional. never once do you raise your voice at him, or fight back when he extends a particularly hurtful comment. on the occasion that his attitude grows to be too much for you, all you do is slip on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and spread out your textbooks to spend the evening studying on the other side of the room. not keen on making amends, or discovering the source of simon's malcontent, but not affected by it either. you're peaceful. conflict averse. a good girl.

then, you come back one day with a tupperware of cookies.

"i made them myself last night. couldn't sleep, so..." you shrug, holding it out towards him. he assesses them, assesses you, roving over your chapped lips and hollow under-eyes. when did you get to look so defeated?

"no." he looks away, back to the unconscious man in front of him. in his periphery, your shoulders deflate, and he doesn't know what compels him to add the quiet "thanks."

"you've been here every hour of every day. i don't think i've seen you eat. um–" you dodge his gaze when it shoots to you. you've never tried to hold a conversation before now, have always accepted his gruff responses as an indication to leave him alone. he wonders why you can't catch the hint now. "just- let me know if you change your mind. they're shortbread."

and that's the end of it. at least until an hour later:

you're sitting on your armchair, directly across the bed from him, staring blankly at johnny when you speak up. "lieutenant?"

ghost doesn't remember introducing himself to you. he doesn't respond, but clenches his jaw to let you know he's listening.

"he's been comatose for a while." you warble. meaningless chatter. he sees it for what it is: talking so you don't cry. seeking reassurance in someone who knows how these things go.

"hm."

"is this how it usually-"

"sometimes."

"oh."

"he'll be alright." simon adds. more for himself than for you, but your lip wobbles like it's exactly what you needed to hear.

a few moments later, you speak up again.

"he holds you in such high regard, y'know."

he didn't. his heart aches as he follows the rise and fall of johnny's chest, finds solace in it, calming himself before he rips the hair from his skull. he can't speak, can't muster a rude dismissal, or any hatred for you. not anymore. this hospital has sucked the soul from him, as it seems to have done with you.

"he'll be happy to know you've stuck to his side." you smile, stirring from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder. "i have to go, got an exam tomorrow. i'll leave the cookies here in case you crave one."

you're halfway out when simon replies. "good luck."

and he's on his third cookie when johnny finally wakes. by then, he's already made up his mind. it's revelation he comes to much faster than the first.

if he can't have just johnny, he'll take you both.

[sayruq]

Al Jazeera has obtained a copy of the Gaza ceasefire proposal that Hamas said it accepted on Monday. The deal, which was put forward by Egypt and Qatar, would come in three stages that would see an initial halt in the fighting leading to lasting calm and the withdrawal of Israeli troops from the Palestinian territory. The proposed agreement would also ensure the release of Israeli captives in Gaza as well as an unspecified number of Palestinians held in Israeli jails. Israel has said that it does not agree to the proposal but that it will engage in further talks to secure an agreement – all while pushing on with its assault on Gaza. Meanwhile, the United States, which is also involved in the negotiations, said it is reviewing the Hamas response. The basic principles for an agreement between the Israeli side and the Palestinian side in Gaza on the exchange of captives and prisoners between them and the return of sustainable calm. The framework agreement aims at: The release of all Israeli captives in the Gaza Strip, civilians or military, alive or otherwise, from all periods, in exchange for a number of prisoners held by Israel as agreed upon, and a return to a sustainable calm that leads to a permanent ceasefire and a withdrawal of Israeli forces from the Gaza Strip, its reconstruction and the lifting of the siege. The framework agreement consists of three related and interconnected stages, which are as follows: The first stage (42 days) [Herein] a temporary cessation of military operations between the two parties, and the withdrawal of Israeli forces eastward and away from densely populated areas to a defined area along the border all along the Gaza Strip (including Wadi Gaza, known as the Netzarim Corridor, and Kuwait Roundabout, as below). All aviation (military and reconnaissance) in the Gaza Strip shall cease for 10 hours a day, and for 12 hours on the days when captives and prisoners are being exchanged. Internally displaced people in Gaza shall return to their areas of residence and Israel shall withdraw from Wadi Gaza, the Netzarim corridor, and the Kuwait Roundabout: On the third day (after the release of three captives), Israeli forces are to withdraw completely from al-Rashid Street in the east to Salah al-Din Street, and dismantle military sites and installations in this area. Displaced persons (unarmed) shall return to their areas of residence and all residents of Gaza shall be allowed freedom of movement in all parts of the Strip. Humanitarian aid shall be allowed in via al-Rashid Street from the first day without any obstacles. On the 22nd day (after the release of half the living civilian captives in Gaza, including female soldiers), Israeli forces are to withdraw from the centre of the Gaza Strip (especially the Netzarim/Martyrs Corridor and the Kuwait Roundabout axis), from the east of Salah al-Din Street to a zone along the border, and all military sites and installations are to be completely dismantled. Displaced people shall be allowed to return to their places of residence in the north of Gaza, and all residents to have freedom of movement in all parts of the Gaza Strip. Humanitarian aid, relief materials and fuel (600 trucks a day, including 50 fuel trucks, and 300 trucks for the north) shall be allowed into Gaza in an intensive manner and in sufficient quantities from the first day. This is to include the fuel needed to operate the power station, restart trade, rehabilitate and operate hospitals, health centres and bakeries in all parts of the Gaza Strip, and operate equipment needed to remove rubble. This shall continue throughout all stages.

Exchange of captives and prisoners between the two sides: During the first phase, Hamas shall release 33 Israeli captives (alive or dead), including women (civilians and soldiers), children (under the age of 19 who are not soldiers), those over the age of 50, and the sick, in exchange for a number of prisoners in Israeli prisons and detention centres, according to the following [criteria]: Hamas shall release all living Israeli captives, including civilian women and children (under the age of 19 who are not soldiers). In return, Israel shall release 30 children and women for every Israeli detainee released, based on lists provided by Hamas, in order of detention. Hamas shall release all living Israeli captives (over the age of 50), the sick, and wounded civilians. In return, Israel shall release 30 elderly (over 50) and sick prisoners for every Israeli captive, based on lists provided by Hamas, in order of detention. Hamas shall release all living Israeli female soldiers. In return, Israel shall release 50 prisoners (30 serving life sentences, 20 sentenced) for every Israeli female soldier, based on lists provided by Hamas.

The United Nations and its agencies, including UNRWA, and other international organisations, are to continue providing humanitarian services across the Gaza Strip. This shall continue throughout all stages of the agreement. Infrastructure (electricity, water, sewage, communications and roads) across the Gaza Strip shall be rehabilitated, and the equipment needed for civil defence allowed into Gaza to clear rubble and debris. This shall continue throughout all stages of the agreement. All necessary supplies and equipment to shelter displaced people who lost their homes during the war (a minimum of 60,000 temporary homes – caravans – and 200,000 tents) shall be allowed into Gaza. Throughout this phase, an agreed-upon number (not fewer than 50) of wounded military personnel will be allowed to travel through the Rafah crossing to receive medical treatment, and an increased number of travellers, sick and wounded, shall be allowed to leave through the Rafah crossing as restrictions on travellers are lifted. The movement of goods and trade will return without restrictions.

And that's just phase one. Read the rest of the article for the rest of the ceasefire proposal approved by Hamas.

[workersolidarity]

[ 📸 📹 Footage shows scenes of massive destruction everywhere to be seen after the withdrawal of Zionist forces in Hamad Town, a city in the Khan Yunis governate, in the southern Gaza Strip, while photos show the bodies of the dead resulting from IOF airstrikes targeting civilian homes in Deir al-Balah overnight, in the central Gaza Strip.]

🇮🇱⚔️🇵🇸 🚀🏘️💥🚑 🚨

HAMAD TOWN IN KHAN YUNIS COMPLETELY FLATTENED BY ZIONIST FORCES, DOZENS KILLED ON DAY 159 OF ISRAEL'S GENOCIDE

On the 159th day of Israel's ongoing war of genocide in the Gaza Strip, and on the second day of Ramadan, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) committed a total of 10 massacres of Palestinian families, resulting in the deaths of no less than 88 Palestinian civilians, mostly women and children, and wounded another 135 others over the previous 24-hours.

In a highly illegal attack on the sovereign state of Lebanon, a Zionist raid targeting a civilian vehicle near the Al-Hosh Junction in the city of Tyre killed the Hamas political leader Hadi Mustafa, from the Rashidiya Camp, and wounded three other Lebanese civilians.

According to Lebanese media, Zionist artillery also fired on the Marjayoun Plain while Israeli military and reconnaissance aircraft operated in Lebanese airspace, with the local government calling on the International community to put a stop to Israeli strikes within its borders.

In the north of the Gaza Strip, Zionist artillery forces fired four shells towards the vicinity of Al-Quds Hospital, affiliated with the Palestinian Red Crescent Society (PRCS), in the Tal al-Hawa neighborhood of Gaza City, killing at least five civilians, including children, and wounding several others.

Similarly, Israeli warplanes targeted with airstrikes the civilian neighborhoods of Al-Daraj and Al-Zaytoun in Gaza City, resulting in the deaths of 15 Palestinians, including two women and at least seven children, while wounding dozens of others.

According to reports on the bombings, occupation warplanes bombarded a civilian home in the Al-Daraj neighborhood which killed seven civilians, including three children and wounded several others.

Later, a second strike targeting the Azzam family home in the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood, southeast of Gaza City, killed no less than eight civilians, including four children and two women, with a number of others wounded as well.

Israeli occupation aircraft also bombarded the Lulu family home in the Al-Daraj neighborhood of Gaza City, killing two Palestinian civilians and wounding four children as a result.

IOF airstrikes and artillery fire also concentrated on the central Gaza Strip, with occupation forces targeting four civilian homes in the city of Deir al-Balah overnight.

In the first attack, Zionist air forces bombarded the Al-Atrash family home in Deir al-Balah, killing at least 11 civilians, most of whom were women and children, and wounding dozens of others.

Subsequently, IOF fighter jets bombed the Al-Qudra family home, resulting in the tragic deaths of 11 additional Palestinians, while a strike targeting the Abu Sanjar family home killed at least 7 civilians.

In another strike, occupation forces targeted the Al-Yazuri family home, also in Deir al-Balah, leading to 25 civilians killed or missing under the rubble of their home.

In another Zionist atrocity, the Palestinian fisherman's syndicate announced the horrific murder of two of its members, Muhammad and Youssef Adel al-Sayyid Abu Riyala, after being targeted by occupation gunboats while fishing off the coast of Al-Nuseirat in the central Gaza Strip, known locally as the Nuseirat Sea.

Moving towards the Southern Gaza Strip, IOF artillery shelling concentrated near Hamad Town, in the Khan Yunis governate, where violent clashes with Resistance forces led several Israeli aircraft to land in the area to transport wounded Zionist soldiers for medical care.

Local Paramedic personnel also transported the body of martyr Haitham Muhammad Deeb Suwaidan (35yo) from Khan Yunis to Al-Najjar Hospital in the city of Rafah.

Additionally, IOF soldiers detonated several residential homes east of Khan Yunis, in the southern Gaza Strip.

As a result of Israel's ongoing war of genocide in the Gaza Strip, the infinitely rising death toll stemming from Israeli attacks now exceeds 31'272 civilians killed, more than 25'000 of which being women and children according to the United States Pentagon, and wounding another 73'024 others since the current round of Israeli aggression began on October 7th, 2023.

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@WorkerSolidarityNews

[defencecapital]

Interview: General Atomics ties up with Indian firms, plans more partnerships to boost business

Interview: General Atomics ties up with Indian firms, plans more partnerships to boost business

In an interview ahead of DefExpo-2022, General Atomics Global Corporation chief executive Dr Vivek Lall tells our editor N. C. Bipindra that the American firm is continuing its discussions with the Indian government on procurement programmes, both in the Aeronautical Systems and the Energy and Electromagnetic Systems divisions for potential business opportunities. Q. Kindly provide an overview…

[nocternalrandomness]

Boeing's Mission Enhanced Little Bird (MELB)

[opultea]

Where’s My Kiss? - 2

Genshin men see you kiss something, and can’t help but want one for themselves… ft. Gorou, Wanderer

GN Reader (No Pronouns) - Romantic - Drabbles - Fluff, Angst w/ fluff ending (Wanderer) - SFW (very slightly suggestive at the end of Gorou's)

Word Count: 1.6k

Part 1 - ft. Dottore, Zhongli

Guest Staring - Tawara! Camp dog of the Watastumi Resistance. (Featured in the 2023 birthday art for Gorou, check it out if you haven't seen it!)

Gorou

The finality of the hard won end to the Vision Hunt Decree was an event celebrated by all of Inazuma, most of all the resistance of Watatsumi. Although despite the relief and happiness that the peace brought, there was also the struggle of readjustment. It was not easy coming down from the high tensions of war, and the army still had soldiers in excess. Many now contributed to the last relief efforts for struggling communities, and as reconnaissance units. This was the very task you and a very special operations officer were undertaking at present.

Tawara scouted ahead as you secured the empty battlefield. Many war torn plains were left with lasting remains of equipment and resources, of which you and your trusty camp dog were tasked with retrieving. Her Excellency wished to put the war in the past, and to move forward, there couldn’t be such reminders of the horrors endured during the time.

“Tawara! Where are you boy?” You called, hoping the sweet shiba hadn’t gone too far. A yip in the distance helped your eyes find the pup stood atop a small hill where the enemy camp would have been.

This particular battlefront had little left of the war, only a few broken weapons and cracked armour plates that weren’t considered worth salvaging when the camp was first emptied. You took stock of how much still lay in the field so you could get an accurate gauge of how many soldiers it would take to clean it up for good.

Tawara zipped down the hill and over to you, pressing his paw to your shin to gain your attention. Looking down, you smiled at the pup and the dendrobium he held in his mouth.

“For me?” Tawara carefully dropped the bloom at your feet and barked cheerfully, sitting and awaiting your reaction expectantly. “Aw, aren’t you just the sweetest,”

You knelt down and cooed at the camp dog’s cuteness, squishing his fluffy cheeks in your hands, causing Tawara’s tail to wag wildly behind him.

Plucking the dendrobium off the ground, you inspected the deep red bloom before your gaze drifted across the still-dead grass of the field. New shoots of green could be seen dotting the dry dirt, but there was no mistaking the ground flattened by the feet of soldiers. Perhaps Her Excellency would approve planting some dendrobiums in the field to restore and improve the area.

“You’re a true genius Tawara,” you smiled, smoothing the fur on his head with a well-deserved pat. You went a step further with your affections, clasping Tawara's face in your hands again to press a gentle kiss on his left and then his right ear, before landing one on his snout. You laughed as the pup licked your cheek in return.

Little did you know that another loving pupper was watching the whole affair with unidentified jealousy and a fluttering heart.

Gorou had been notified of your mission long before you set out to complete it, being the general. Although he admittedly preferred when the actions assigned to you could be carried out alongside him, or at least within the campgrounds. Being apart was never easy, even when he knew you would return eventually.

Today Gorou had been lucky enough to finish his reports early and decided that his free time may as well have been used to help you with your mission. He had no doubt in your abilities, but Gorou tended to miss you quickly, so you often received a helping hand from the doggy general even when you didn't need one.

Rounding the hill close to the old front, Gorou felt a streak of unease being back in a place where he had fought so viscously, but it was all washed away as soon as he saw you. His tail began to sway as he approached, watching you smile and interact with Tawara. Then he saw it.

Gorou’s left and then right ear twitched in unison with your kisses, his mouth agape and face flushed. You had never kissed his ears before. The general's ears continued to twitch as he imagined your lips touching them, the images in his mind sending another round of fluttering to his heart.

As Gorou stood frozen and red hot at the edge of the field, Tawara eventually noticed him, barking in recognition and bounding over to greet his superior officer. You followed closely behind, equally happy to find that your boyfriend had come to see you.

"Gorou! Done with your work already?" He didn't hear your question until he shook himself from his stupor. "You okay honey? You're all red,"

"Y-yes!" The confusion on your face caused Gorou's pause, his body fidgeting and eyes trying to latch onto something that could ground his thoughts. "I just, umm... do you think I could... no, never mind."

"Gorou," you gently took his cheek in your hand, placing the other on his chest. "We've talked about this; you know I'll never judge you for anything,"

Ears coming to lay on his head Gorou nodded, still blushing wildly as he finally found the courage to make his request.

"Could you... kiss my ears?"

You cooed quietly, heart overflowing with love for your sweet partner but trying not to embarrass him further. Taking his hands in your own, you kiss Gorou's ears twice each, trying not to giggle at the way they twitched each time.

As you brought yourself away, Gorou whimpered faintly, likely not on purpose.

"Come on, let's head back to camp. I have a report to give for this reconnaissance mission, and you have more kisses to gain, perhaps somewhere more private?"

You smiled demurely as Gorou blushed, swiftly nodding his head and following you and Tawara back to the camp with anticipation.

Wanderer

Now renowned scholar ‘Hat Guy’ was currently in class, despite his vehement protests towards attending formal lectures, leaving you alone in the home to tidy up the shared space.

Lesser Lord Kusanali had seen your relationship bloom since the beginning, before even either of you had seen it. She was immensely pleased that the previously misanthropic puppet had grown to love another, and once informed of the official announcement of your relationship, she generously allowed the Wanderer to move from the Sanctuary Surasthana to a home of her choosing close by. It was a quaint and quiet home, but both of you cherished the space. It was a place you could just be together, and need nothing more. Because of this, you took great pride in making sure the home remained a place of respite, and so liked to keep it tidy.

Deciding to start with the laundry, you gathered a basket and went to the bedroom to gather anything in need of washing. Humming a little to yourself, you plucked the pillows off the bed, thinking of washing the cases, when a little thud on the ground came as you lifted your partners pillow.

Curious, you knelt to inspect the thing that had fallen. What was he hiding in his pillow? Kuni certainly wasn’t the type to believe in improving his sleep by hiding trinkets under his head. However, what you discovered made you gasp. On the floor lay the tiny cotton doll resembling Kunikuzushi, its beaded eyes reflecting its obvious displeasure with having taken such a fall.

Tenderly, you took the doll in your hand and stroked its head as you would with Kunikuzushi. Why was it here? You had only ever seen the doll once or twice when Kunikuzushi had readjusted his sleeves or changed shirts, but you knew that he always carried the cotton companion with him. Running your hand gently across the doll, you felt a snag on its back. Turning it over revealed a tear in the seam, a puff of cotton poking out its spine.

“Oh, poor thing,” you muttered, rising slowly while you cradled the doll like a babe. “Let’s get you patched up.”

Collecting a sewing kit from the drawer and sitting carefully on the edge of the bed, you let the doll rest on your lap as you prepared. Gently, as if it could feel your stitching, you mended the fabric. You smiled as you steadily sewed. It made you happy to think you could help Kuni this way, even if he had tried to hide the issue under his pillow.

Kuni has always been private, even with your long-standing relationship it wasn’t easy for him to show such vulnerability. But this doll was his vulnerability, a piece of him he showed almost no one. It was fulfilling to aid it.

Pulling the thread tight, you tied it off and admired your handy work, turning the doll over to greet it again,

“There, all better.” You landed a tender kiss on the top of its head, sealing all your love and care into its plush fabric.

A small choke brought your head up, allowing you to see your partner standing in the doorway, a rare kind of apprehension etched upon him. Your eyes caught each others, astir in stagnant bodies. Kunikuzushi's hand trembled on the doorframe, mouth open as if trying to form words he didn't know.

Through the silence, you lifted a slow hand, extended and opened with a hopeful invitation. The puppet approached, taking your hand and the seat beside you. No words were spoken as you gently lowered his head into your lap, letting his body lie across the bed and his arms wrap around the mended doll. As tears began to shake from Kunikuzushi’s face, you leaned down to press kisses to his head, caressing his hair and allowing him to finally feel the pain and vulnerability that had always ached in the space where his heart should have been.

"Thank you, for daring to love all of me," The shaking whisper stirred the greatest sense of care in your heart.

"You have never deserved anything less,"

The response brought him to sit up, clasping his body around yours as he continued to wring tears into your shoulder.

Perhaps it was not often that Kunikuzushi showed his vulnerability, but you could never stand to mind. Not when these tender moments were so treasured. Besides, you knew well that you would take anything he gave you. You were ready to love it all.

[gildedkrone]

Hit me and tell me you’re mine, I don’t know why but I like it 🔞

Relationships: John Price x bottom!Male Reader Synopsis: John decides to fuck you in the wild. Inappropriate use of military camouflage equipment. A/N: Exhibitionistic Price for the win! Master List

It was so fucking hot.

Laswell’s idea of fun was to send you and the captain to a remote island off the coast of the US. The higher ups had received intel regarding a spike in drug trafficking operations in the area and Price was in charge of reconnaissance this time round.

Hopping on a boat ride from a US base in Florida, you soon find yourself prone on the grassy field in search of the so called druggies. The weather is unbearably hot, right in the middle of June and scorching. You were dressed in the thinnest of combat fatigues and yet, you can feel sweat dripping off your nape and onto the collar of your uniform. The dark patches on your uniform are growing by the minute.

Price had setup his sniper rifle beside you and radioed in his position to Laswell. You resisted the urge to fiddle with your collar one more time before Price binds your hand behind your back.

“You make it hard to focus, love.” Is his flimsy excuse whenever your hands went to touch your neck.

The island was all but deserted. There is a tiny warehouse near the opposite end of the island and between you and there, a thirty minute hike by Price’s estimation. His rifle is pointing towards the warehouse and he gives you a curious look.

All good, lad? You give him an affirmative nod and he smiles. Feeling mischievous, you give him a quick kiss on the nose. The surprised look on his face garners a snicker from your lips and you pull back to adjust your weapon.

So imagine the yelp when his hand cups your nape harshly and he smashes his lips into yours. You taste hints of cigar on his breath and he is tongue fucking you into submission. Give in. He rumbles approvingly when you let resistance fade from your muscles and he rewards you with a light caress of the thigh.

“Are you going to behave yourself, sergeant?” His whisper is all smoky and of mirth. It lights something within you, but what? You nod and he tuts gently. He shakes his head and he leans closer in as his beard grazes your cheek.

“Put on the ghillie suit and focus on the mission, sergeant.” No! Not the ghillie suit! You plead with him to reconsider but he is not having it. He even pulls rank and orders you into it. It’s so goddamned fucking hot and your captain is forcing you into something that’s going to make the situation a million times worse.

Not wanting to get written up or disciplined later, the ghillie suit is pulled over your body and you resist the urge to whine further. Price is focused on the mission and you aren’t interested in testing his patience today. A bit more shuffling here and adjusting there and you are prone on the floor beside Price. Albeit sweating even more profusely than before. Heat is rolling off your prone form in waves and you are twitching sporadically to get the sweat to roll off your skin. The suit traps a lot of heat and patches of uniform sticks to your soaked skin.

Price gives a questioning look. You give him a “everything is okay” smile and look through the scope. The warehouse looks the same as it did an hour ago. Nothing has moved and nobody has walked out.

The constant fidgeting must be annoying Price. The captain shoots you a few looks and yanked your arm. A yelp drowned out by a hand on your mouth and Price pulls you into a kneeling sitting position. He was careful to ensure that the suit doesn’t chafe or pull at your body.

“Sergeant, do you have an issue with keeping still?”

You shake your head. He cocks an eyebrow. Ok, maybe it is too hot in the damn suit. He sighs at your excuse and when he looks at you again, there is a glint in his eyes that spelt trouble. The sexy kind of trouble.

Price clears his throat and whispers, “How about this, sergeant? Let’s do some impromptu training to strengthen your resolve.” You nod eagerly, hoping to impress your captain.

He instructs you to lie down before him on your back and you comply swiftly. He chuckles and gently pats your thigh. Once settled, he scooched forward and situated himself between your thighs. Taking extra care to avoid your body, he puts his fully body weight onto you and his arms rest at your shoulders to adjust his rifle.

Price isn’t a light man. He isn’t as tall or as built as Ghost, but he is damn well heavy and strong and prostrated across your body, he is squeezing the air out of your lungs with each movement of his body. He finally settles into a comfortable position and stops moving.

“If you lay still and be quiet for me, I will reward you, love. How about that?” You perk up at the sound of a reward and he laughs quietly at the eagerness. It will make you feel really, really good. And really hot, too.

You are prepared to do whatever it takes to earn your captain’s reward. His hand pats your head reassuringly and you stifle the urges to move and shake beneath his heavy body. The sheer amount of sweat pooling on your chest is obscene but you remain still, like a bush.

“Got nothing here, Laswell.” Price checks in with Laswell. Whatever Laswell says is unimportant; you are focused on keeping yourself obedient and compliant.

The midday sun is unforgiving and cracks are beginning to form in the barrier holding back your basal instincts. The soft moans Price is making when he moves is leaving deep gashes in your mental fortitude and you mean it when you say that he is doing all of this deliberately. All in a bid to make you misbehave on mission. Well, he will have to try harder. Price looks down at your flushed face and smirks. Infernally sexy.

“Well done, sergeant. That was only stage one. Get ready for stage two.” He doesn’t wait for you to clarify and he is lifting the ghillie suit slightly to tug at your belt. It takes a bit of effort for him but his hands are an insistent force on your pelvis as the military issued belt is unclipped. You look at him in alarm as he chuckles and kisses your cheek.

The belt is first to leave and next, your trousers are lowered to your knees. Price continues to observe your face as the first whines start escaping your mouth. His hand trails up from your thighs and settles at the elastic band of your boxers. You shiver and shake as he tuts gently while aiming the rifle.

“No movement, sergeant. Be still.” You nod and swallow nervously and his hand is gently tugging on the band. The tent in your boxers receives some gently strokes that wire your jaw shut and he pulls your boxers off. Your dick is long hard and needy as it springs free from its clothed prison. The nets in the ghillie suit catches the head of your dick and you gasp at the rough sensation.

Price smiles and disappointingly, leaves your aching dick alone. Not before he gently moves his body downwards slightly to slide his groin against your dick a couple of times. Each of the times, he pulls whimpers and moans from his favourite part of your body—your mouth. Focus. He commands and your body reacts to stop the shivering. Price makes matters worse by gently whispering words of good boy and my lad into your ear.

The time fades into a blur and you aren’t sure how long has passed since your torture began. Your dick is so hard that it is pushing against the netted suit before slipping and sliding through the gaps in the netting. Price’s hand is on your neglected appendage and he strokes gently. He kisses you again to silence the inevitable pants and begs that he loves to hear each and every time.

“Careful, sergeant. Almost caught you slipping up there.” He admonishes and his grip on your dick turns punishing and painful. You buck your hips to shake his hand off but he growls and leans close.

“That’s it, sergeant. You are going to be disciplined.” He tugs the ghillie suit upwards until it covers your hips and up only. The belt in his cargo pants are on the ground and his pants are down and you swallow when you see that he is wearing nothing underneath those pants. Commando for a commander.

He dick is hard and heavy in his grip as he gives himself a couple of tugs and strokes. Keeping his eyes on you, he spits into his palm and wets his dick. Ready? His hands caress your face and you indicate your consent. His dick probes your ass and eventually, he slides home in a steady and practised manner. His reaction to being swallowed by warm heat was to give you another kiss and a short pant. You, on the other hand, was falling apart underneath his body when the thick dick is fully in you. You moan, loud and unabashed at the rush of sudden pleasure mixed with a trace of pain. Price normally take his time and fingers your before hitting it home but it seems that this time, he is less patient than usual. His hands are back on his rifle as he continues to lay above you, this time with his dick fully seated in your ass.

Sweat rolls off your pelvis and onto his dick and your entrance and you are moving to try to get some sort of friction and pleasure from him. His hand snaps to your hips and he whispers, don’t you dare. You disobey his unspoken order and clench down on him and he exhales roughly.

“Do you intend to disobey my orders, sergeant?” You nod your head. To see Price lose control and take you hard in enemy territory sparked something deep and primal within you.

“Bloody hell, you fucking fiend. Be a good cockwarmer and keep quiet. We are still on a mission.” You force your torso to relax and release its grip on his dick. Price sighs appreciatively and you concentrate on warming his appendage deep in you. He mumbles something into the radio and the safety on his rifle is clicked off.

The rifle fires and the smoke of gunpowder blows onto your face. You cough and Price adjusts his rifle keep the empty bullet casings being ejected from hitting your face. A couple of shots later, he radios Laswell again.

“Well done, Price. And the sergeant?” Price looks at you and answers that you were helping him out nicely. He neglects to mention the fact that you are keeping his dick companion, but whatever.

Halfway through his shooting, his hips start to gently move and his dick is generating that absolutely delicious and burning friction that tingles your pleasure senses so nicely. You moan for him and he snaps his hips to punish you. It fails and only serves to rile you up further. The familiar knot makes itself known in your abdomen and each of his gently and rough thrusts are tightening the knot further and further.

When Price is all done shooting, he looks down at your pleasure drunk face. Drool is trailing down your chin and your chest is heaving gently in sync with his movements. He kisses you again and you start meeting his thrusts midway. He groans gently and squeeze your naked ass cheeks gently.

“Are you close, sergeant?” You nod your head weakly; Price has had a lot of fun teasing you with the potential for release. “You are not allowed to come, sweetheart.” His hand is a prison on the base of your dick and you feel the pleasure plateau. He cuts off your climax and you see the bracelet on his wrist tie and twist around the base of your dick. You moan in protest as he pulls the elastic band before letting it slap your dick with a thwack. The pain jolts your hips and Price’s dick hits a deeper part of you. So that’s why he was so insistent on bringing it along with him.

“This is training, sergeant. Try and hold out. The band will help.” He’s so commanding in sex when he is taking on the role of the 141 Captain. Your dick bobs and sways in the air as his hand squeezes your abs.

Eventually, the unsatisfying burn of pleasure is killing you in a blaze of lust and desire. You paw at his chest as the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass is loud and wet. Give me more, please! He shakes his head and slows down his thrusts. The whine you made was one of dissatisfaction. Price isn’t as young as he used to be and he wants to fully savour your squirming and shaking body beneath him. That means cumming into you once and right. He adopts a kneeling position and stops moving those sinuous hips of his.

“Good lad. Now, use your core muscles and sit up.”

While attached to his dick?

He says yes and you feel even more turned on than normal. The torso muscles are not cooperating as your weakly arch your back off the ground before flopping down. He whispers that he won’t cum in you as long as you are not sitting up. It takes a while, but eventually, you manage to summon enough strength to pull your body up to his with his dick still inside your ass. He smiles and kisses you again.

“Wanted this, didn’t you? Saw the way your eyes lit up when I mentioned we were going to be using this today.” He runs a hand through the suit and you nod desperately. His chuckle is smooth and silken. “Want them to look, don’t you, darling?”

“Ride it, sweetheart. Save a cowboy, sergeant.” You bounce on his dick, starting off slowly before letting gravity pull your hips down onto his in a smash. He adjusts his position and his hand supports your upper body. Price is making short grunts and noises as he is close to climax. His hands are gripping your hips and moving them to meet him halfway. His eyes are lidded with pleasure and the loving, longing gaze is making you want to cum too. Eventually, you feel the twitch in the thick appendage in you and with a loud grunt and bite on your shoulder, hot liquid gushes into your ass and a jolt makes it way up your spine at the sensation of being so damn filled. Price’s climax is long and thick and viscous and he is forcing your hip to stay connected to his. But he is cumming so damn much and some of it leaks out from around his dick to the grass field below.

You whine as his climax is finished. He had orgasmed, but yours was still nowhere to be seen. You clench on his dick as more fluid leaks out from his still connected organ and he chuckles deeply.

“Sergeant, what was my command?”

“Stay still and don’t move—ah!” He gives a minor thrust that displaces the white cream in your ass and encasing his dick.

“Did you follow my commands?”

“N-no sir!”

“Well, then, do you know what your punishment is?” You nod miserably and he pulls you in for a deep kiss.

“Good boy. Behave, sergeant.” He pulls himself out gently amidst your gasp and cum leaks out in the process. Your head is guided gently towards his filthy dick and you know what he wants. Licking it clean like a good dog, you make sure to leave nothing on his dick as he sighs and runs his fingers through your hair soothingly. His boxers are back on and his trousers, too. He flicks your semi-hard erection and you lurch into his chest. Your underwear is fixed to your hips and Price helps you to get into your pants. You complain about feeling all sticky and gross and unfulfilled.

Price’s reaction was to remind you that you disobeyed his orders without shame.

“While I did enjoy that, lad, the pleasure isn’t for you, sergeant. Seems like we have to rectify this when we return to base.” His threat of more pleasure sends another thrill through you.

His face turns serious for a moment and he asks if you are truly okay and if he went overboard. You shake your head and he helps to remove the ghillie suit. Soft, plump lips are on yours and Price gives you a look of endearment. Once folded, it goes into the large pouch on the back of your vest and you grab your rifle while Price grabs his.

“Laswell, no movement spotted. Time to exfil.” You belatedly realise that the mission is over.

“There’s some pretty bad storms here at the harbour. You will have to wait before I can get to the both of you.” Price sighs and acknowledges.

His turns to tell you and halfway through, he smiles and it bodes badly for you.

“Why wait until back at base? I’m going to discipline you here, sergeant.” His hands pull down the zipper to your pants and your bound dick is released when your underwear is pulled aside. Pleasure is stirring in your loins again and pre is leaking from the tip. Price swipes a finger and licks it.

Sweet as pie, he tells you. Amidst the unbroken heat and the warmth of Price’s fingers, you can’t decide which is worse. Price is all the more happy to help you decide. Somehow, you knew that once he is done with you, you won’t be walking properly for the next day.

And you can’t wait for Price to completely destroy you again with that massive dick of his.

[milf-murdock]

Hi!! I love love love your writing! Especially your 141!Reader series <3 I don't know if you take requests, but your last post about Simon and baby Joseph made me so angsty and I would love to read more angst from you. Could you please write about Simon thinking 141!Reader was KIA on a mission? Thank you!!!

Anon....who....who hurt you???? I’m kidding 😆 mostly 👀 But for real, this one HURT. Like. OUCH. This man has been through so fucking much…but let’s put him through a bit more 😈😈😈 also, I did very much hurt my own feelings with this one. So I’m thinking we might need a part two reunion because I don’t know if I can leave our Ghosty boy in shambles like this

Drip. Drip. Drip. 

The rain patters against the window in a steady rhythm.

Simon watches the fat raindrops roll down the small window pane, one foot anxiously tapping against the concrete floor. He didn’t know why he was called to Price’s office, but there was an ominous charge to the air. Call it a premonition, or maybe an instinct, but he knew in his bones that something was wrong. 

The click of the door handle pulls Simon from his thoughts as Price enters the office, a heavy silence filling the air. 

“What’s happened?” Simon's voice has a hard edge to it, cutting straight through the bullshit. Watchful eyes appraise every detail of Price’s body language, and Simon notes the deep sunken look of his captain’s eyes accentuated by a somber expression. 

Price avoids Simon's gaze, staring down at the oak desktop before him as he takes a seat. The captain wasn’t one to mince words or beat around the bush, but even he was having a hard time wrapping his mind around the situation despite his many years in the service.  

Simon's heart hammers in his chest, every second in the unknown feeling like an eternity. This isn’t right, he thinks to himself. 

Price steels himself with a deep inhale, pulling his gaze from the desk to face Simon head on, looking past the mask, speaking to the man he knew laid beneath. 

“I wanted you to hear this from me, son. You…deserve to hear this from me.” 

Simon stops breathing. 

With practiced determination, Price continues his speech, having rehearsed the words in his head the entire walk down to his office. 

“Reconnaissance mission, Operation Blackout, suffered multiple casualties after a long-range detonation by enemy action. There’s been no contact with the team, and rescue attempts were unsuccessful due to the extensive damage caused by the explosion. All team members are presumed KIA. The official course of action…”

The rest of Price’s speech is drowned out by the dull roar in Simon’s ears; his blood runs cold, his rigid body barely breathing. 

This can’t be happening. Not again. Never again. 

Simon's thoughts grip him by the heart, squeezing painfully. 

I can’t do this again.

He had already lost everyone once. Had built impenetrable walls, designed to protect him from this type of pain. 

But you. You and your goddamn charm, and your soft smiles, and your relentless fucking attitude. You broke down those walls brick by brick, made Ghost–no, made Simon– feel more like a man than he had in years. You slipped past his ironclad defenses and took his heart without him even realizing it. 

And just when he had finally opened up, just when he had finally convinced himself that maybe he could be happy–that you could be happy together. It all came crashing down. 

In the distance, Ghost could hear shouting. A chorus of denials piercing the air, heavy ragged breaths filling the silence between. 

A heavy hand fell on Ghost's shoulder and he found himself back in his body, looking up at Price, voice raw. 

With a stark realization, Ghost realizes it was him. He was the one shouting, the one gasping for breath. 

The world tilted out from under him. 

____________ 

Ghost left Price’s office a different man–a mere shell of the man who entered. With every step he took, he felt himself slipping further and further into the familiar safety of Ghost, an unpierceable facade moving through the world. 

Everything felt wrong. Every step. Every breath. He felt like he was moving underwater, every action taking twice the effort it should. 

The next few hours pass in a blur. The official order that he was being sent on leave. The ensuing argument with Price over the orders. He eventually just gave up. Leave, no leave, it didn’t fucking matter. 

None of it fucking matters. 

Johnny tries to see him before he leaves, meeting Simon on the tarmac. He tries to be there for his lieutenant, his friend. 

The red rim around Johnny’s eyes reminds Simon that he wasn’t the only one who had lost you. They had all lost you. But even that which should have been a comfort, a sort of kinship in the grief, meant nothing. Simon didn’t give a singular fuck. He turned away from Johnny mid-speech, leaving the Scotsman to sit in his grief alone as he watched Ghost disappear into the aircraft. 

____________ 

It takes every ounce of strength Ghost has to make it through the flight. To make it through the drive back home. To make it through that door. 

Keep it together, soldier. Don’t you dare fucking lose it, Simon Riley. Just a bit longer. 

His belongings crash to the floor as the door slams shut behind him. He doesn’t even bother turning on the light, instead using the faint glow of the moonlight through the curtains to guide him to the cabinet. 

Ghost pulls the bottle of bourbon from its resting spot, not even bothering with a glass as he pulls off the corked top and takes a hearty swig. 

The burn of the liquid is invigorating, filling Ghost with a quiet simmering fire. 

He takes another drink. And another. 

He walks through the flat in a daze, the amber liquid dulling his senses, sending him even deeper into the haze of his grief. 

Ghost finds himself in front of his dresser, staring at the wooden drawers. 

Taking another drink, he steels himself as he yanks open the top drawer. Rummaging beneath the pile of socks and t-shirts, Ghost digs out the small velvet box. He grips it tight in his hand, the small object groaning in protest as waves of rage and pain overtake Ghost, threatening to pull him under. Hot tears slide down his face, but he doesn’t even notice. 

With a roar he throws the velvet box across the room, the impact fracturing the drywall. Ghost’s knees go out from under him and he crashes to the floor, his heart shattering into a thousand pieces. There would be no repairing this. No amount of time could heal this type of heartbreak. 

You were dead. 

And as far as Ghost was concerned, Simon Riley died with you. 

[endless-ineffabilities]

reconnaissance (1/3)

Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Reader goes on a recon mission with the White Wolf himself, formerly the Winter Soldier, which goes awry.

(a.k.a. you two idiots are clearly in love but don't do anything about it, until circumstances become so heightened that you are forced to)

masterlist ▪︎ word count: <1k

"Come in, do you copy?"

You keep walking, ignoring Bucky's increasingly grating tone in your earpiece.

"Respond, do you hear me? Meet back at the rendezvous in 2 minutes." Bucky tries again, seemingly deciding that this recon stint is done and dusted. Without even consulting you.

"I know what I'm doing, Buck." You keep up your pace, tailing the man you're supposed to gather intel on. He rounds the corner and unlocks a room, presumably his own office on the base, and disappears inside. "I'll meet you as soon as I'm finished."

"You are finished." Bucky snaps right back. He's only a block away, but he's getting worried that if something were to happen to you, he wouldn't make it on time. "We're only meant to scout the area, assess their operation. Not tail them right inside their fuckin' HQ."

"Woah there, grandpa, watch your language." You smirk, and you can picture him grinding his teeth in frustration. Why is he so worried anyhow? From what you've gathered, this organization is made up of a bunch of blip fanatics who want to restore the world to how Thanos left it. Balanced, sure, as the old shriveled grape said. But also in chaos - with everyone sufferring loss and living listlessly.

These people are insane. And insane is easy to handle, as far as you're concerned. Not one of the big 3 - aliens, androids, and wizards - just pure idiotic nutters.

Bucky has resorted to pacing on the roof of the dilapidated apartment complex he uses as a viewpoint. "Something's not right here. The man you're tailing was never meant to head to their HQ today. I have a feeling they found us out."

"Did they also figure that I would not give a rat's ass about that and - "

"Take the bait?" Bucky interjects.

"No. That I would beat them at their own game. " You whisper irately. You pause when the man comes out of his office and walks away from where you hide. "Wait, I'm going in."

"Don't do anything stupid, doll." Bucky pleads. For a moment, you want to cave in. He no longer sounds bossy, or annoying, like he tends to be on missions where it's just the two of you. He usually tells you to stick to the plan, to stick with him. Like you're incapable of going off on your own. Sure, he has decades more experience, and the effects of a Super Soldier serum to boot, but you wish he would just trust you. But he sounds like he's either desperate to get back home and get this shit over with, or he actually cares that much about you. "Just come back to me. Now. "

"Bucky," you breathe, steadying yourself. "C'mon. This'll be just like that time in Gdansk."

He feels an ounce of relief creeping in. Maybe you're right. "Then I'll be waiting for you, doll. Like always."

Doll. That still sends shivers up your spine. But he doesn't have to know that, does he? You walk up to the office door, and try to make quick work of the lock. "I won't be long. And quit calling me doll."

"What then? Princess?"

"No."

"Sweetheart? Has a nice ring to it." He counters quickly. He must have been sitting on this one for a while.

"Bucky - "

"Yes, darlin'?"

"Alright, that's it. I'm done with this conversation." You warn him, but the colouring on your cheeks betray your tone. Good thing he's not around to call you out on it. The lock gives way, and the door creaks open. "I'm in."

"Damn it." You hear him mumble to himself, seconds later. "Why does she never listen? I think she's actually trying to kill me. Give me a damn heart attack."

"That's likely, isn't it?" You give an unsolicited response. "Considering that you're about 100 years old."

"106, actually." He quips back, pinching the bridge of his nose, tapping his foot, taking deep breaths. He tries everything to calm down and not agonize over you. But nothing works. Bucky doesn't know what he would do if anything were to happen to you.

No. That's not quite right. He doesn't know what he wouldn't do - because he would do anything, kill anyone, just to get you back.

And you just can't seem to grasp that. Though it might have something to do with how he constantly hovers over you like an overprotective older brother, with Sam once remarking how you've got yourself a personal bodyguard. You think that's all it is - Bucky being a nice guy. Bucky watching your back as you would do the same for him. Bucky wanting to keep you in line, so that the missions would go smoothly, especially since he is technically acting as your superior.

You don't see how Bucky's gaze lingers a bit too long on your lips when you relay your mission reports to him. How his hand often finds itself hovering over the small of your back when you walk side by side. You don't know that he observed (not stalked, according to him) how your date played out with that one fellow agent that asked you out. How he tried to find solace in the bottom of a bottle when you invited that agent back to your apartment.

And how he made arrangements to have that agent indefinitely reassigned to Eastern Europe the week after.

The office you enter is encased in shadow, the window shutters all lowered. You're careful not to turn on any switches, so as not to trigger alarms. With steady hands, you raise your Beretta 92FS before you, the accompanying flashlight illuminating the room.

Then you see it. A map of the city pinned to a board covering the east wall.

"Talk to me," Bucky barks in your ear. "What do you see?"

"Jackpot." You can't help but grin. Breaking Bucky's rules pays off after all. This'll show him. "It looks like some blueprint for how they plan to infiltrate the city. Red markings for the areas where they will release the poison in the water supply."

"And how the hell do you know that?"

"Well, boss," you roll your eyes. "probably because there's a note at the bottom of the damn map that says release poison in water supply."

"Oh."

Yeah. Oh.

"Don't take it with you," he starts, but you beat him to it.

"Course I won't. I've already got the whole thing memorized to a tee."

"Get out of there. Now." Bucky emphasizes, and you don't know whether to be touched by how worried he sounds.

"Alright, alright, keep your hair on." Taking one final look at the scene, you head back to the door. But the handle doesn't budge. "That's weird."

At that, Bucky knew something was definitely not right. As if he did not already warn you stay out of there. His blood runs cold, and he springs into action before you can say anything further. Sprinting down the street, he tries to get you to keep talking. "I told you not to do this, doll. I told you."

"I can handle it." But the door stays closed. It doesn't even respond to your exceptional lock-picking skills. You hear a whooshing sound to your right, like a mechanical panel opening. At once, you get into a defensive stance, gun at the ready.

You don't see anything, but you can smell it. It's some kind of gas. A strong sedative, you recall from your training.

"Oh, shit." You mutter. Holding your breath can only keep you safe for so long.

"Goddamnit," Bucky curses while running, not even out of breath, "it's gas, isn't it? I knew it, I just knew it, doll!"

"I'll try the windows." You offer, but quickly find out they're of no use. Sealed shut, like the door.

Bucky's rambling now, desperate. "Should've listened... you should've... stay with me, doll. Stay with me."

You still hear his voice as white spots flood your vision. Dread sinks in as you succumb to the sensation, but you steel yourself. You will get through this. You will.

Especially when you've got Bucky promising, "I'm coming for you, doll. No one is taking you from me."

(a/n) yes, I've rewatched tfatws again. Which prompted this lil thing. Not that I was not absolutely besotted with our Bucky for a good long time back in the day (still am). Are y'all more for Steve or Bucky? Both would be better ofc, but I've never been able to choose. Let me know! 🤷🏻‍♀️💙

part 2 coming shortly!

[soliloquent-stark]

After Thanos, the Avengers consider creating a worldwide protection program that can dismantle threats in case of another absolute emergency.

Tony drafts an initial proposal and calls the system Synthetic Unified Intelligent Technology for Omnipresent Forensics, Analysis, Resistance, Monitoring, Obstruction, Response, and Advanced Robotic Operations for Unprepared Neutralization, Defense, Tactical Hazard Evaluation, Worldwide Observation, Reconnaissance, and Logging Data.

Steve doesn't care for the snark.

[rocks-in-space]

This episode of Burrow's End was absolutely incredible (I just started watching D20 and I'm losing it. This isn't scripted how is it so incredible? Like one of the best-"written" things I've ever seen).

So much happened, but I have to wonder if the whole stoats possibly intentionally causing a nuclear meltdown was in any way inspired by the time a weasel (and later, a marten) temporarily shut down the CERN Large Hadron Collider by chewing through wires.

See this article, which contains the incredible line, "It is unclear whether the animals are trying to stop humanity from unlocking the secrets of the universe."

Raccoons also once attacked the Fermilab particle accelerator, leading to this official report from the lab:

"At 1:24 a.m., Operations reported a raccoon attack in the Linac gallery. It seemed to be a coordinated effort. Fortunately, by 1:53 AM, a joint force of operators and Pbar experts managed to drive the raccoons out of their hastily made fortifications. Then at 4:18 p.m., the raccoons made what some thought to be a counterattack on the Division Headquarters, but others believed it to be only a simple reconnaissance incursion. No raccoons were either injured or captured during these encounters. Operator losses were low."