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charlietheepicwriter7 · 2 months

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Teen Villain Alliance

Chapter 1 - Damian

Despite his proficiency in the skill, Damian hated spying on the Teen Villain Alliance.

Having appeared two years ago in alliance with Klarion Bleak, the Teen Villain Alliance, or TVA, quickly made themselves known as little more than pests, often rushing in to assist other young adult criminals or harass Justice League officials. Father wanted to investigate when they first appeared, but with Todd’s reveal and Damian himself coming to take his place as Robin, he’d been… busy.

Which allowed the TVA to flourish into a respected criminal enterprise. No vault was safe, no hero strong enough. A group had even banded together to take down Superman! And while there was no lasting damage other than some bizarre markings on the Kryptoian’s face, it was enough to prove these teenagers as a threat.

Damian, as much as it galled him, was not the first chosen to infiltrate. Martian Manhunter, shapeshifted into a meta fourteen-year-old girl, tried and was identified as a hero on sight. The Teen Titans and Young Justice got closer, actually able to talk to the villains about joining, but “it was like they could smell the hero on us,” Beast Boy had explained. “I don't know how else to explain it.”

Most likely, the TVA kept tabs on the Justice League and affiliated organizations. They needed someone fresh, someone who wasn’t a hero.

Damian had been more than willing to volunteer.

Introducing himself as Damian Al Ghul, the recently escaped Heir to the Demon Head, he’d been accepted immediately despite having approached the group mid-heist. All he had to do was extrapolate about how Grandfather’s assassins were chasing him, and the Wolf—a designation given to the members of the TVA’s inner circle—allowed him to join, but he was forced to stay with the hacker of the group while the heist commenced with no interference from a hero.

Damian had been confident. He’d gotten so far in mere minutes when a member of the Justice League, and even Drake, couldn’t get past the first few questions. He’d have the Teen Villain Alliance dismantled within the week.

Then Manson, as the Wolf had introduced herself, took out a device that transported them all to another dimension. Which was where the main base of the Alliance was. And none of his communication devices or trackers worked there.

Damian had only been able to update the Justice League a few times since his tenure as a spy began. Superman had reassured him it was fine, that there had been plenty of missions were communication was infrequent, but after a month of living in the TVA Base in the Infinite Realms, Damian hated not being able to contact his father easily. And in return, Father and Drake had taken to interrogating him for as long as possible the couple of times he was outside Headquarters.

(Phantom’s Haunt is what the TVA members called it. It was Phantom Dark’s home that he opened up to them all. Damian didn’t know how to feel about that.)

Damian had only been able to contact Father three times in his four weeks undercover, each time on a supply run… which was essentially just a grocery trip for the Haunt. The first time Damian had slipped away to the bathroom and called, Father had been… furious. He’d thought Damian’s lack of updates was on purpose. It had been five minutes before Damian could correct him.

He wished Grayson had answered during any of his updates, but he was on a mission in space and wouldn’t be back for another two weeks.

In those four months, Damian was still the newest member, and had yet to be involved in the truly illegal aspects of the organization. All the information he’d gathered purely administrative, like how Duulaman, a reincarnated pharaoh turned hacker, stole money from various billionaires and government organizations to fund their plans. He’d yet to be involved with anything serious.

He wasn’t allowed on serious missions either. He only had the supply runs to look forward to, and those only occurred once a month.

His other objective, to undermine the Teen Villain Alliance and spur a mutiny, was also going poorly. The children he surrounded himself with were fanatically loyal to the Alliance, citing Phantom and his harem as the reason they were alive today. Even those who weren’t directly rescued were loyal. One such child, a boy named Kyd Wyckyd, had confessed to turning to a life of crime due to his terrifying meta abilities and their effects on his appearance.

But the TVA took him in after the collapse of HIVE Academy. He hadn’t participated in a crime since, preferring to work with the Wolf named Jasmine who led individual and group therapy sessions for the villains. Jasmine had tried multiple times to convince her therapy sessions—more like brainwashing sessions—but Damian had stayed strong in the face of adversary.

Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be much more Damian could do. He tried to push, to get involved with the criminal aspect of the organization, but the Wolves blocked him at every turn, saying he was “too young.” That he needed “stability” and to “rely on them to keep him safe.”

Perhaps Damian oversold the danger of the League of Assassins.

For now, Damian hid in his room in Phantom’s Haunt. His castle. Even the magnificence of the compound he grew up in couldn’t compare to the headquarters. There were an infinite number of rooms—”as many as we need,” Phantom had told him—that changed based on the user’s preferences. Right now, Damian’s room looked like a cave. The Batcave, to be precise, though he didn’t allow references to his Father and legacy.

He was hiding because Manson had suggested he attend some of the classes held in the libraries—there were four libraries at the moment. Classes were taught by ghosts under Phantom’s control and weren’t mandatory, but “everyone’s worried about the lack of structure in your life.”

He tried to tell himself it was because he didn’t want to be brainwashed by Phantom’s lackeys, and that he already knew everything they were going to teach. But in truth… Damian was anxious. Attending school at the Haunt felt too permanent, too much like he was planning to stay. He hadn’t gotten the choice to attend school back in Gotham, with Father acting like he would compromise their identities around children. He wasn’t that petty.

Someone knocked on his door. “Damian? Are you inside?”

Sighing, Damian stood up and opened the door. “Dr. Fenton. Am I needed for anything?”

Dr. Daniel Fenton was another Wolf, another member of the harem Phantom had built around him, twenty years old and not an actual doctor but everyone called him that anyway. While Damian had yet to see Fenton and Phantom in the same place, Damian was keeping a detailed record of how the Wolves’ polyamourous relationship worked. Phantom and Fenton both dated Manson and Duualman, though they didn’t seem to be dating each other or Jasmine. Klarion often inserted himself into those relationships for hugs and hand-holding, but only seemed to kiss Jasmine.

“Actually, yes.” Damian’s lips parted in surprise. “I wanted to talk to you about something down in my lab. Would you join me?”

Fenton’s lab was off-limits to low level members of the TVA. He was the engineer, the creator of all their weapons of destruction. Fenton had no minions, while Manson had her thieves, Duualman had his hackers, Jasmine had her helpers, Klarion had his witches, and Phantom had his fighters.

Fenton was alone.

Isolated.

Damian agreed.

Fenton led him to the depths below the castle, past the never-used dungeon and through a secret door into a surprisingly bright and airy lab. He caught Damian looking through a window that displayed one of the Haunt’s many gardens, an impossible feat for being so far underground. “Magic castle, remember,” Fenton chided him. “Those work as portals that lead to the garden too, so it’s an easy one-way exit.”

Damian scoffed, abashed that he’d been caught so easily. From a glance, the lab was perfectly maintained, with every piece of equipment assigned to an outline meant to indicate where it belonged. As he walked further into the room, Fenton made slight adjustments to his tools, meticulously shifting them back into place. It looked more like a set than a laboratory.

But then, Damian observed Fenton. The twenty-year-old relaxed as he put his space back into order, nudging the screwdrivers and beakers back into their designated outlines. As he worked, the sleeve of his lab coat road up, revealing a glimpse of lichtenberg scars before it was hidden again.

Finally done, Fenton turned back to Damian. “My sister, Jazz, has told me that you’re not attending individual or group therapy sessions, is that correct?”

Well, that revealed a lot of information. Ignoring the fact that Fenton and Jasmine were apparently siblings, Damian replied, “I do not see a reason to attend. If this meeting is an attempt to force me–”

Fenton held his hands up in surrender. “No, I would never. Therapy doesn’t work if the person receiving it doesn’t want it. But you haven’t been attending any of your classes either, and Phantom has mentioned that you don’t hang out with the other kids. Are you settling in alright? I know the others are a few years older than you, so it might be harder for you to connect with them.”

Damian chewed on the question. While part of him was furious that someone, especially a villain like Fenton, was concerned about him and discussed him with his fellows, the other part… wasn’t. It was true; he was having difficulty connecting with the villains. Damian didn’t particularly want to, but it would make his mission easier.

He chose a neutral answer. “In the League of Assassins… I was the only child in the entire compound. Other children weren’t allowed inside, not unless their parents did something wrong. And those children…”

“Were used against their parents?” Fenton offered when he struggled to find the words.

“Precisely. It’s not in my nature to associate with children.”

Fenton nodded in understanding, stroking his chin in thought. “That does present a conundrum alright. How unfortunate; the task I needed your help with requires you to interact with at least some of the others, but if you’re that uncomfortable with the idea, then I could find someone else.”

Damian stared at the man in suspicion. “What task?” he demanded to know. If this was a way to get more information for father, he needed to know. But if this was another trap to get him into therapy…

“You’ve probably noticed by now, but I’m the only Wolf without someone working under me. Sam has her Bats, Tucker has his Flies, Jazz has her Rats, Klarion has his Strays, and Phantom has the TVA as a whole. The others have been pressuring me to create my own group, but babysitting a group of teens in a lab where anything could explode is just asking for trouble.”

Damian stepped away from the nearest device. Fenton continued, “However, I think a group dedicated to investigation would work much better. Here in the Infinite Realms, we’re very isolated from the human world, so my research on competing inventors is always lacking. Tuck and Sam help, but Tucker has his own hacking projects, and Sam targets financially viable targets instead of labs.”

“You want me to be a member of your new… group?” Damian read in between the lines of what Fenton was saying. Surely Father would be proud of him for gaining information about Fenton’s inventions and targets—

“I want you to lead the group.”

His glare dropped right off his face in shock. “Lead?” he whispered.

“That’s right,” Daniel agreed. “It’s not conventional and I barely got the others to agree, but Damian, you’re one of the best trained villains to ever join the TVA. Yeah, you’re really young, but you are serious and professional. To be honest, most of the kids we take in don’t take our work seriously. It’s not a bad thing, but I need a leader who is willing to keep their group in line. Infiltration and information gathering can be very dangerous, and I need someone who can keep the team safe.”

Daniel trusted him enough for that? Father didn’t trust him enough to be his partner; honestly, Father didn’t even trust him enough to introduce Damian to the world as his son! Perhaps he was aggressive towards the interlopers in his home, but he wasn’t going to stab a civilian!

And while Damian didn’t understand why Daniel was so cautious around what amounted to breaking and entering, he wanted Damian to lead. He trusted Damian for that.

And Damian was going to take back whatever information Fenton revealed back to his father, like a hunting dog to its master.

Daniel continued, “Of course, this is still a few months off from being necessary. But that should give you plenty of time to attend some classes to prepare you more! One on leadership skills, one on modern technology, one on basic magic and wards, maybe a refresher on hacking… Knowing you, you’ll test out of them in a few weeks, but the main point is to find other people to join our team. I’m looking for four other team members, and while I am looking for certain traits and skills, it's up to you to decide who you want on the team.” Daniel placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “So, what do you think?”

He’d betray Daniel by saying yes. He’d betray Father by saying no.

He made his choice.

Damian looked up at Daniel, determination set into his face. “I won’t let you down.”

Daniel smiled. “I know you won’t. You couldn’t if you tried.”

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #ghost prince danny fenton #supervillain danny fenton #damian wayne is not robin #c: danny fenton #c: damian wayne #damian al ghul #Jazz: ok so this kid is really insecure but also really prideful so you can't ever seem like you're looking down on him #Danny: *aggressively taking notes so he can help this kid makes some friends and find a purpose that motivates him*#teen villain alliance

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leviathan-supersystem · 2 months

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BEIJING — China’s struggling real estate developers won’t be getting a major bailout, Chinese authorities have indicated, warning that those who “harm the interests of the masses” will be punished.

“For real estate companies that are seriously insolvent and have lost the ability to operate, those that must go bankrupt should go bankrupt, or be restructured, in accordance with the law and market principles,” Ni Hong, Minister of Housing and Urban-Rural Development, said at a press conference Saturday.

“Those who commit acts that harm the interests of the masses will be resolutely investigated and punished in accordance with the law,” he said. “They will be made to pay the due price.”

That’s according to a CNBC translation of his Mandarin-language remarks published in an official transcript of the press conference, held alongside China’s annual parliamentary meetings.

Ni’s comments come as major real estate developers from Evergrande to Country Garden have defaulted on their debt, while plunging new home sales have put future business into question.

In 2020, Beijing cracked down on developers’ high reliance on debt for growth in an attempt to clamp down on property market speculation. But many developers soon ran out of money to finish building apartments, which are typically sold to homebuyers in China ahead of completion. Some buyers stopped paying their mortgages in a boycott.

Authorities have since announced measures to provide some developers with financing. But the national stance on reducing the role of real estate in the economy hasn’t changed.

This year’s annual government gathering has emphasized the country’s focus on investing in and building up high-end manufacturing capabilities. In contrast, the leadership has not mentioned the massive real estate sector as much.

Real estate barely came up during a press conference focused on the economy last week, while Ni was speaking during a meeting that focused on “people’s livelihoods.”

Ni said authorities would promote housing sales and the development of affordable housing, while emphasizing the need to consider the longer term.

Near-term changes in the property sector have a significant impact on China’s overall economy.

Real estate was once about 25% of China’s GDP, when including related sectors such as construction. UBS analysts estimated late last year that property now accounts for about 22% of the economy.

Last week, Premier Li Qiang said in his government work report that in the year ahead, China would “move faster to foster a new development model for real estate.”

“We will scale up the building and supply of government-subsidized housing and improve the basic systems for commodity housing to meet people’s essential need for a home to live in and their different demands for better housing,” an English-language version of the report said.

next time you complain about how things are in America, consider that if you lived in some kind of scary communist country like China, you wouldn't even get to fund a bailout for the real estate company owners who ruined the economy like you can (whether you like it or not) in the good old US of A! 🇺🇲

#china #housing #real estate

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feltandyarn · 2 years

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6 Best Felt Winter Essential

With the ever-changing trend to follow as well as to have something that is functional on a day-to-day basis, getting through winter feels like a lot of effort. Well, in that case, you can always go for felted products.

Felted products are the perfect way to dress up or decor for your winter mood. While some trends come and go, these beautiful, interesting, and well-made felt winter essentials will stay for years to come.

With hundreds of products to choose from, you might be wondering what to choose for this winter. Well, we’ve got you covered with felt winter essentials that will create variety and warmth in your home effortlessly. What do you think about these essentials?

#wool felt #handmade #crafts #feltcraft #felt #business #needle felting #arts and crafts #felt shoes #felt winter supplies #felt winter essential #felt coaster #felt boots #felt yoga mat #felt trivets #felt business #felt bag #felt and yarn

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mariclerc · 3 months

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Soft fur | cl16

Summary: When your date with Charles takes an unexpected turn. Or when you have a new fluffy member in the family.

Warning: None, a lot of fluff from Charles and reader.

You and Charles have been dating for a long time, and occasionally you go on casual dates since you are both busy and hardly have time for a date as such, and today is one of those. You are both sitting in front of each other, the sun was coming through the window of the place, plates with half-eaten and delicious pastries occupy the space between you. You take a bite of a macaron, your eyes sparkle with delight.

“You're enjoying that, mon amour?” Charles asks while keeping a little smile on his face.

You nod with your mouth full. “Mmm! It's so light and airy, just like... Well, you.”

He chuckles. “Me? It's that because I'm sweet and fluffy? Flattery will take you so far, love.” He winks and reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers. You blush lightly, a shy smile playing on your lips.

Moments later, you walk hand in hand down a cobblestone street. The afternoon sun warms up your skin, and the gentle murmur of conversation hangs in the air while you talk about everything and nothing at the same time.

“...and then the girl screamed very loudly in the office, and I was scared, she screamed because there was a bug in her coffee cup, she started shaking the cup, spilling coffee all over the floor. I swear it was something out of a movie.”

“Oh god, I can imagine it, baby.” he said while laughing.

Suddenly you feel something soft against your ankle, you stop and look down at the floor to see fluffy siamese kitten nuzzling you leg. Its emerald eyes looked at you with great curiosity and innocence.

“Oh god Charles, look! It's a kitty! It's so small, oh my!” You say while gasping.

He kneels while extending a hand. “Hello there, little one. Where did you come from?”

The kitten rubs against his palm, purring contentedly. You watch, your heart melting at the beautiful sight.

“It's so cute. Can we pet it?”

He smiles. “Of course, mon ange.”

He gently picks up the kitten, cradling it in his arms. You reach out with a shy smile, tentatively stroking its soft fur. Memories of your childhood flood back: begging your parents for a pet, daydreaming about cuddling with a furry friend, or simply being your companion while you study.

“You know? I always wanted a kitten when I was younger. But my parents never let me had one.” You said with your voice a little brittle.

He notice your wistful expression. “Is that something you still want princess?”

“I don't know... It seems a bit silly now, being an adult and all.” You say a little hesitantly.

Looks at you intently. “Silly? I don't think it's silly love. If it makes you happy, it's not necessarily silly.”

He holds the kitten out to you. You hesitate for a moment, then cautiously take it in your arms. The warmth of its tiny body fills you with a sense of comfort and joy.

“Thank you Charles.” You say in a whisper.

He smiles warmly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Consider it an early Valentine's day present.”

You let out a little giggle and continue walking together, now with your new furry friend, which is quite comfortable in your arms, the sun light becomes brighter and more resplendent. After walking for a while, you and Charles stand in a bustling pet store, the kitten nestled comfortably in your arms. Shelves overflow with cat toys, treats, and colorful accessories.

“There are many options! What can we choose?” Your eyes are wide with wonder.

He chuckles. “Well, let's ask the experts, don't we?” He approaches a friendly-looking employee wearing a name tag that reads "Sarah." “Hi there! We found a little lost soul and are looking for the perfect essentials to welcome it home.”

“Oh, how adorable! What a lucky kitty. Let's see what we can do.”

Sarah guides you through the maze of cat supplies, explaining the differences between food brands, litter types, and scratching posts. You bombard her with questions, your excitement growing with each answer.

***

Later, you stand in your cozy apartment, transforming a small corner of the living room into a cat sanctuary. Charles helps you assemble a cat condo, set up a litter box, and fill bowls with food and water. The kitten, now sporting a cute red collar and named "Sparks" by you, explores its new territory with playful curiosity.

“All ready! What do you think Sparks? Happy with your new digs?” You say while wiping some sweat from your forehead caused by the work of arranging things.

Sparks rubs against your leg, purring loudly. You kneel down and scoop it up, burying your face in its soft fur. A contented sigh escapes your lips.

“You look radiant, mon bébé! Even happier than with the pastries.” He said while wrapping his arms around you.

“Maybe it's the pastries, maybe it's the kitten, but mainly it's you. Thank you for making this dream come true, Charles!” You say with a little smile on your face as you lean into him.

He kisses your forehead, his eyes filled with love. Sparks, sensing the affection, snuggles closer to you, completing the picture of perfect domestic bliss.

“Now we have a little family!” He says while having a smile on his face.

“Maybe later, a little human addition to the family?” You say in a whisper.

Charles's eyes widen in surprise, followed by a slow, teasing grin. “Mon ange, are you proposing?”

“Maybe...” You say while blushing. “But I think for now we are fine the way we are.”

You don't rule out the idea of having a family in the future, whether near or distant, with Charles, but at the moment you guys are pretty good with Sparks and their fun and curious things that they do every day and that make them smile at the least expected moment, no matter how stressed or tired you both are, Sparks is always there to make you smile.

#formula one x reader #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x you #charles x reader #charles blurb

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chiscribbs · 11 months

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[***NOTE: Leo's design here is no longer accurate, link to the updated version.]

I know there are already a lot of "the brothers are separated at a young age and raised by different people" AUs floating around, so this isn't especially original, but- I've yet to see one with this particular parent-child arrangement, so...

Here’s some rough concept art for what I’m calling the “Grown Apart AU” Which I've also been affectionately referring to as the "Everyone's a Disney Protagonist" AU for quite some time... you'll see why.

Here’s the gist: Basically, Splinter is only able to save Mikey and Leo from the lab explosion - Raph is immediately picked up by Huginn and Muninn and handed back over to Draxum; Donnie is lost mid-escape and later found by Big Mama's goons, who show up for Lou but bring Don back with them instead when Lou is nowhere to be found.

Details of each turtles’ upbringings (as well as how/when they meet April) below the cut:

RAPH

Draxum raised Raph to be everything he originally intended the turtles to be: a ruthless, obedient super soldier whose sole purpose in life is to protect the Yokai by eliminating the human threat. Draxum taught him to hate humankind and trained him up to be virtually undefeatable in battle. However...because Draxum isn't the most attentive parent, most of the caretaking for Raph was actually provided by Huginn and Muninn. And the two little well-meaning gargoyles - mostly unintentionally and outside of their master's knowledge - wound up nurturing a much softer and friendlier side to their supposedly bloodthirsty warrior-in-the-making. As a result, Raph has essentially been living a double-life under Draxum’s ownership; playing the part of a perfect soldier for his father/general, who he's determined not to disappoint, and only feeling free to be himself when he's alone (or with H&M.)

Raph has always known that there were supposed to be other mutants like himself but grew up believing that he's the only one who survived the experiment, making him the only one left in existence (until Draxum’s oozesquitos create more, that is). Even though he had H&M to keep him company, being an only child could still be pretty lonely sometimes, so Raph would often imagine what having brothers - other mutants like himself that he could have grown up alongside - would have been like.

Raph is the only one of the turtles that knows his human DNA comes from Lou Jitsu - just like Draxum, though, he has no idea that Splinter is actually Lou Jitsu.

DONNIE

Donnie had a posh and cushy upbringing in Big Mama's hotel - she raised him as her own son(unaware that he’s actually Lou’s)/apprentice and uses his technological talents to aid her multiple businesses: he supplies new weapons and battlegrounds for the Battle Nexus, as well as automated assistants and security for her hotel, and even pitches in with her more off-the-record dealings that last one being without Donnie’s knowledge. Big Mama's kept him pretty much wrapped around her little finger; praising him for his intelligence and usefulness whenever he does a good job or makes her nice things. When he hasn’t, however, she’s a less-than-affectionate mother. Donnie will do absolutely anything it takes to impress and earn approval from her.

Donnie is largely sheltered and knows very little about the world outside of the hotel - especially the human world, about which most of his knowledge comes from what he finds on the internet. He doesn't even know that he's a mutant, believing himself to be just some uncommon type of yokai, since that's all he knows. He’s not allowed to fraternize freely with the hotel guests and has a somewhat contentious relationship with Big Mama’s assistant, whom he’s always viewed as competition for her affection. The closest thing he's had to a friend is S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N, whom Donnie built to have someone to talk to (besides Big Mama's boring, no-nonsense henchmen).

Don finally met April when he was about 11 yrs old; he secretly sent one of his spy bots out to explore the human city and she intercepted it. The two have been best friends and stayed in-touch with each other online ever since - April being unaware that Donnie isn't human.

Donnie knows of Lou Jitsu purely because he was Big Mama’s favorite champion in the history of the Battle Nexus - he idolizes him, having watched recordings of many of his fights, and dreams of one day fighting in the Battle Nexus himself (if Big Mama would allow that).

Leo & Mikey

Leo and Mikey were still rescued by Lou/Splinter and brought up in the NY sewers. Splinter felt extremely guilty for not managing to save the other two baby turtles and, for the first few years following the incident, spent much of his time searching for them. Once Leo was old enough, Splinter would start leaving him and Mikey in the Lair while he searched. He eventually gave up his search, presuming them both dead or lost for good, and resigned to keeping the remaining two as safe as possible - teaching them how to defend themselves and warning them never to leave the sewers unless he was with them.

Leo and Mikey were inseparable as kids - they would do everything together, refusing to even sleep in separate rooms until they were too big to fit in one bed anymore. Leo took his job as Mikey's big brother very seriously and always tried his best to protect him, even when they were simply playing games with each other. As they got older, though, the two brothers began to drift apart - Leo started to feel a little smothered; craving more freedom to do what he wanted when he wanted, without the older sibling responsibilities hanging over him 24/7. And Mikey started feeling like he couldn't go/do anything without his brother's judgement or approval, resenting the idea that he needed constant protection.

Finally, when he was about 13, Leo secretly snuck out of the lair one night to check out the city by himself and get a little taste of independence. After that one trip, it quickly became a habit and he soon began making regular “secret” trips into the city.

Somewhere along the way, his innocent quests for freedom and fun grew into opportunities to stir up some trouble - Leo eventually met and became involved with a group of yokai teens with whom he would pull pranks and play jokes on the city's human occupants (harmless ones...usually. They just enjoy causing a little mischief.)

Mikey, having to figure out other ways to keep himself occupied since his brother is usually by himself or busy with his new friends, has picked up a multitude of different skills and hobbies, trying absolutely everything he can get his hands on. His main hobby is spray-painting, which he uses to spruce any wall he can find with his own personal touch. By the time he's 13, much of underground New York has been covered by his handiwork. Mikey eventually finds out about Leo’s secret outings and follows him when he leaves one night - the two end up meeting April, who's never seen mutants before (having only talked to Donnie online and not seen his face) and promptly freaks out before realizing they're not dangerous. The three soon become friends, too, and April starts making plans to introduce the boys to Donnie - knowing he could use more friends besides S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. and herself.

The four brothers' fates finally collide with one another when an escapee from Draxum's lab - Mayhem - shows up out of the blue and catapults Mikey and Leo to the Hidden City, where they have an unexpected reunion with their eldest brother.

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apas-95 · 4 months

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The last post you re logged about arrestability and the Palestine Action network is something I've been thinking about a lot, and I feel really stuck on. It feels like any movement in the imperial core that wants to take actual direct action is going to find itself targeted by feds, but the ways that you can protect against that severely preclude it's ability to grow and find new recruits. Like, activism in the labor sphere can do more direct things because it doesn't have to be illegal, but I cant imagine that that will stay the case once a political labor party that's actually shutting things down. How does one make a mass movement that takes direct action but is able to prevent itself from getting shut down? I don't know, do you have any thoughts on this?

It's been done a hundred times before in the face of the same pressures, so the first order of business should be studying and learning from the experiences of successful labour movements.

Putting that aside, the key things are, in whatever words, militancy and deniability. By militancy, I mean the organisational understanding that you are in direct conflict with the bourgeois state (at a higher or lower intensity) and that your immediate priority should be making yourself immune to attack, followed only afterwards by taking offensive action. Militancy, then, means the recognition that the ultimate aim of the movement is the complete material domination and destruction of institutions that currently field armies and police networks. From the very first step, from the organisational nucleus, it needs to be understood that you are engaging in a pitched battle from within the enemies camp - which leads to the second key item, deniability.

Deniability, here, largely means compartmentalisation. Essentially every successful revolutionary movement has had a separation between the aboveground, legal struggle, and the underground, illegal struggle. To a certain degree, this is a genuinely covert or clandestine effort - undisclosed armed groups known only to a select few in the parent organisation, attributed funding through the laundering of the parent organisation. It is both essential that any armed cell is dependent entirely on the wide, integrated mass workers movement and that this cell is not actually widely known; hence, the parent organisation. If the cell were undisclosed but not integrated to a mass political organisation, it would not have revolutionary character, and be indistinguishable in practice from a common organised crime or terrorist group. It's ability to carry out correct actions would be incidental, and not self-correcting. If the cell had mass character but was not undisclosed, it would present a target to the bourgeois state and be destroyed. The strategy of asymmetric warfare is to strike at the enemy's undefended targets and to refuse to provide any defended targets for the enemy - this applies organisationally, too.

What needs to be stated, here, is that, given the connection to the mass movement, everything needs to be done only when the situation is correct. The size of a workers organisation necessary to support and supply even a single armed cell with laundered funding, safehouses, and information is extremely large, and will not be possible until a significant level of organisational base has been built and developed. Even once it is possible to support an armed cell, the political situation will very likely only warrant fairly low-intensity actions, like industrial sabotage. Again, though, the principal task of the militant - and the irregular fighter, the guerrilla in particular - is the preservation of one's own forces, over and above the destruction of the enemy. In real practice, there is no overabundance of caution, only hesitation - and the way to consistently and repeatedly carry out simple acts of industrial sabotage is by having three people work with the support of thirty-thousand. There can and must be a continuum of support, of different levels of action, between simply 'protest-organiser who pays dues to the aboveground labour organisation', to 'union salt who is a source of information on a worksite', to 'directly involved in organising and carrying out illegal acts'. The key metric for correct connection between the underground and aboveground sides of the movement is: if the actions of the underground were revealed, the mass base of the aboveground should be in support of it. The purpose of underground organising is not to go ahead of the people and start shooting cops (until the struggle has escalated to that intensity, and people are demanding that type of protection), it is to avoid providing a target for the bourgeois state.

At the higher levels of struggle, the existence of the underground becomes an open secret, which, with proper growth, coincides with the underground reaching a size and strength that it can begin to take up the mantle of the mass movement itself, and effectively transform itself into the parent organisation of the aboveground legal struggle. Until then, the model is that of a large political party leading a mass movement in every type of legal and semi-legal action under the sun (in strikes, civil unrest, and parliamentary campaigns), fiercely supporting those who do break the law (through legal and bail support, public campaigns, and protection), while the types of illegal actions the movement needs are carried out covertly.

TL;DR: Build a mass movement, or all you'll get are ecoterrorists and activists in prison.

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hyperactively-me · 4 months

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king!ghost x reader -- separation

warnings: none

The weeks pass in a haze of routine and loneliness. You receive reports from the front lines, each piece of information a bitter reminder of the man you love risking his life for your kingdom. The nights are the hardest, the empty space beside you a constant ache. In the mornings, you always find yourself pawing at his side of the bed as if hoping to find some trace of his warmth, only to be met with a cold mattress and unused pillow.

Soap proves true to his word. He’s been nothing short of a good friend, providing you with moral support and protection. He assists you in managing the affairs of the kingdom, ensuring that the transition in Simon’s absence is as smooth as possible.

Every few days, a messenger arrives with news from the front lines. From these small updates, you’ve learned that the Southern Kingdom is, indeed, on the rampage for taking over Kastron’s military for political power and the natural silver mines spread across the land. You’ve also heard some updates from Simon himself, his letters stirring up a mix of emotions. They carry fragments of his true self, his voice reaching out to you across the distance of war. In his words, you find solace and a connection that momentarily alleviates the ache of his absence.

Every day proves to challenge you more than you ever thought you would be in Kastron. You’re tasked with taking the ultimate responsibility of caring for the kingdom from home base, constantly running around attending to various matters of importance. From making sure the royal court was content, to overseeing the distribution of resources to the villages affected by the war, you find yourself taking on tasks you never thought you would. The people of Kastron look to you for guidance, and you strive to embody the strength and resilience they need.

Your mornings begin with a stack of reports, detailing the ongoing developments in the war and the status of the kingdom as a whole. Following that, you often find yourself in meetings with royal councils and the court, detailing your plans to maintain stability and ensure the kingdom's survival. Most advisors are content with the way you’re handling things, but some are more critical than others. The distribution of resources to villages becomes an important aspect of your daily routine. Working closely with a team of trusted advisers, you create strategies to prioritize the needs of villages. Food, medical supplies, and other essentials are dispatched efficiently.

Every night you get ready for bed, your body aches with fatigue, and your mind races with everything you have to do the next day.

As you prepare for another quiet dinner, Soap quietly enters the dining room with a loud knock. Surprised to see him standing outside with a tray of food, you let him in.

“Keeping yer strength up, your majesty?” he asks with a kind smile, setting the tray down on the table.

You return the smile, appreciative of Soap’s thoughtful gesture. “Soap, you’re a lifesaver.”

He chuckles softly. “Well, it’s the least I could do for ya, you’re busy all hours of the day.”

You share a genuine yet wary laugh, the sound echoing in the quiet room. You motion for Soap to sit next to you, needing some company at the dinner table. The aroma of the food wafts through the air, and your stomach, which you realize is far emptier than you thought, grumbles in response.

As you begin to eat, Soap takes a seat across from you. There’s a comfortable silence between you two as you eat, savoring the moment. In the midst of your responsibilities, these quiet, relaxed moments become precious.

After a few bites, you look up at Soap. “How are things at the front lines? Any new news?”

“Aye, the situation is tense. Our soldiers are holding their ground, but it’s been no easy feat."

Concern lines your forehead. “And Simon? Have you heard anything about him today?”

Soap sighs, shifting in his seat. “He’s holdin’ up, your majesty. His letters to me don’t reveal much, but you know Simon—he’s a fighter. We’ll see him back here sooner than you think.”

Fear and hope well up inside of you. “I just wish I could be there with him. This waiting is driving me crazy.”

Soap nods in understanding. “It’s tough, I know. But Kastron needs you here, guiding us through these… trying times. Simon wouldn’t want you risking yourself.”

You appreciate Soap’s reassurance, but the ache for Simon remains. The conversation shifts to lighter topics, distracting you momentarily from the war. Soap shares personal stories, trying to bring a smile to your face.

After the meal, Soap helps you clear the table. As you both stand in the dimly lit dining room, Soap glances at you. “If ye ever need someone to talk to, your majesty, I’m here. I might not be Ghost, but I’ll do my best.”

You place a hand on his shoulder, grateful for his unwavering support. “Thank you, Soap. I appreciate it more than you know.”

He gives you a sincere nod, a silent promise to continue being there for you.

Now in your chambers, you settle onto your balcony, gazing out over the kingdom bathed in the soft hues of sunset. You lean against the railing, studying the expansive view below in quiet contemplation. Yes, sadness and yearning has been quite prominent the past few days, yet you’ve also managed to find pride in your work and how you’ve been handling difficult matters. Ultimately, you’re proud of the way you’ve been managing Kastron in Simon’s absence. Yes, the weight of responsibility still rests upon your shoulders, but a newfound strength emerges within you. The people of Kastron rely on your leadership, and you are determined to rise to the occasion.

As the night settles in, you lay in bed, Simon’s pillow cradled in your arms. It’s a poor substitute for the warmth you yearn for.

Your mind races with thoughts of Simon. How he’s doing, what he’s experiencing on the front lines, and whether he’s thinking of you as much as you are of him.

What a stupid thought, you know he is.

Sitting up, you light a candle and pull out your box full of Simon’s letters. You reach for one, tracing the pad of your finger over the inked lines of his familiar, scratchy handwriting.

As you reread Simon’s words, you can’t help but start to get emotional.

You know he’s more than capable. You know he’s trained for this, specialized in combat and survival. But the knowledge doesn’t erase the worry seeping into your heart, and you don’t think it ever really will.

The candle’s flame dances in your room, casting shadows on the walls as you immerse yourself in Simon's words. As you reach the end of the letter, a particular passage catches your eye. Simon’s words strike a chord, speaking directly to the concerns swirling in your mind:

“My beautiful girl, leading Kastron with a dedication that rivals even the greatest of leaders. I miss you, love, but knowing you're holding down the kingdom gives me strength. Kastron needs its queen, and I need to know you’re safe. We’ll get through this, and I’ll be back in your arms soon.”

A tear escapes your eye, landing on the parchment. A mix of emotions—love, worry, pride—stirs inside you. You fold the letter with care, tucking it back in the box with the others as if safeguarding the precious connection it represents. The candle flickers, and you blow it out, casting the room into darkness once again. In the quietude, you lay back, clutching Simon's pillow once more. Sleep eventually claims you, but dreams are elusive.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon “ghost” riley x reader #simon “ghost” riley x you #hyperactivelyme

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arecaceae175 · 4 months

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Gratitude Part 1: Wild

Summary: Eight times Sky receives a gratitude crystal from the chain plus one time he gives some away

WELCOME this is inspired by this post chain by @linkvcr and @somer-writes! I'm going to post each section on tumblr until they're all done, then I'll combine (and edit lol) them for AO3 :D

This one is based on and uses some dialogue directly from the woodcarver comic by @linkeduniverse

Part 2. ART!

Wind blew lazily through the trees, rustling the leaves pleasantly. One fell and floated down onto Sky’s lap. He brushed it away and it fell next to the pile of wood chips from his latest carving. He was essentially finished; even the decorations were done. He was chipping away at any imperfections he could find– and fixing any more he created– to keep his hands busy.

A bird chirped in the distance. Sky eagerly looked up and followed its path over the forest. It was so cool. Sky racked his brain for a word to describe how incredible the bird was, but couldn’t come up with anything more eloquent. He laughed softly to himself and turned his attention back to his carving.

“What are you laughing at, birdbrain?” Legend asked. Sky smiled at the nickname.

“True to my name, I was watching a bird. It was cool,” Sky said.

“Of course you were,” Legend said, as his eyes roamed the skies to find the bird himself. Sky smirked.

“Food’s ready!” Wild called.

“Perfect timing!” Sky said. He blew a breath over the spoon to knock off the loose shavings, then wiped it down with a cloth. It was perfectly smooth.

Sky hopped to his feet and walked over to the group with the spoon hidden behind his back.

“Okay, so it’s a light meal today, since we had that amazing soup earlier. Rice and vegetables over here, and then there’s some meat if you want. Cucco in that bowl and deer in that bowl. But I put some vegetables with protein in, so you’ll be fine without those,” Wild explained, pointing to the bowls as he talked. “Oh, and no peppers.”

Sky felt a warm feeling in his chest. Wild put so much care into their meals and ensured they catered to everyone’s individual preferences. It wasn’t easy to make one meal that suited nine people from different backgrounds, but Wild made it work every time.

“Oh, I need a spoon for the rice. Um,” Wild turned to dig through his cooking supplies.

“How about this one?” Sky said.

Wild turned around and his eyes widened in surprise as Sky held out the spoon. His mouth dropped open slightly as Sky pushed the spoon into his hands.

“You made this?” Wild asked.

“I did! For you,” Sky asked. “As a thank you for always making us such good food.”

“Wow!” Wild said. He held the spoon up to his face, closely inspecting the patterns. A spark of orange flickered to life above his head. It wasn’t quite a full crystal, but the sight made Sky smile warmly nonetheless.

“This is beautiful work,” Wild said.

Sky beamed. “Thank you!”

Wild’s face fell from its smile. Sky mirrored the expression and stepped closer.

“What, what’s wrong? Do you not like it?” Sky asked.

Wild frantically shook his head and his grip on the spoon tightened. “No, I love it! I’m just… what if I break it?”

“You probably will,” Sky said with a chuckle. Wild looked up at him with wide eyes full of worry.

“But that’s okay. It’s meant to be used. If you use it enough to wear it down, I’ll know I did a good job,” Sky said.

“Are you sure?” Wild asked.

“Promise,” Sky said.

Above Wild’s head, the spark rapidly expanded into a full gratitude crystal. Sky watched it with awe as it floated over and into his chest, where its warmth spread throughout his body. Sky wiggled in happiness.

“Thank you, Sky. I love it,” Wild said.

“You’re very welcome,” Sky said, his smile bright and wide.

Next Part ->

EDIT 01/19/2024: THERE IS ART NOW!!!! This art by @linkvcr :DDDD

#who should I do next?#feel free to throw any ideas my way #linked universe #legend and sky sitting together and being besties beloved #legend using birdbrain as a nickname for sky because he knows sky loves it my beloved #linkeduniverse #lu sky #lu wild #lu legend #ace writes #gratitude

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workstuffs · 1 year

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The Importance of the Notebook

Discover the significance of keeping a notebook and enhancing your writing skills with Two Writing Teachers. Read our insightful infographic and learn how journaling can boost your creativity and help you become a better writer. Start your writing journey today WorkStuff will always help you consolidate your suppliers, reduce your costs and all whilst contributing to a more sustainable future.

#Registers and Notebooks #Stationery products #school stationery #Office supplies #Writing essentials #Record-keeping solutions #Journals and diaries #Academic essentials #Business stationery #Memo pads #Organizational tool

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mochatsin · 1 month

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When MC can Draw (Dateables Version)

Drawing and the arts is one of the things you’re most passionate about. There’s a lot of things, and certain demons, that are out there to give you inspiration to draw. How will the dateables react when they find out you’re a great artist?

Wow my first dateables version of my prompts. Hope i’ve written them all well. This version is requested from my tumblr :0 thanks for reading!

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Diavolo

Diavolo took notice when you saw your eyes lingering among the paintings during your tour around his castle. There were portraits of prominent figures from Devildom, from old kings to spearheads that shaped their history. He explains how there’s one royal painter for every royal king, thus the similar styles in every portrait. Since you’re an exchange student then it’s essential you learn about these demons, and Diavolo is happy to tell their tales for you.

He was taking a stroll around RAD before going home when he spotted you in the school’s gardens, seemingly preoccupied. He wanted to call on you but he was more curious to see what you were working on. Diavolo watches you closely from a distance, afraid that you might hide from him if you spot him like how the others do.

To his surprise, he saw you working on a portrait of him in a style that’s similar to the ones he’s shown you. The way your eyes lingered on those paintings when he toured you around before, it clicks to him now that you were trying to study the art style itself as well. It’s almost identical, but with your added personal touches to make it unique.

His towering size doesn’t hide him very well when you immediately spot him at the corner of your eye. The pillars don't do justice to how large Diavolo is as a demon. You try to conceal the art you were making, it’s embarrassing when the subject of your art is actually a few feet away from you. But he quickly smiles as he walks over to you. Now that his cover's blown, he definitely wants to see everything up close now.

“I didn’t mean to be rude and spy on you like that. But you don’t need to hide anything! Even from a glance I could tell you’re talented. Would it be alright for me to see what you were working on?” You can’t really turn down such a polite request, but you most certainly can’t turn down the volume of his voice that’s booming with excitement as he flips from one page to another.

When you finish your portrait of Diavolo, expect it to be treated like a national treasure. A beautiful artwork of the young prince made by the human exchange student? It deserves the best frame that Diavolo can get his hands on. Expect Barbatos by your door the next day with high quality art supplies. He’ll treat you like one of the finest royal artists to ever live in Devildom.

Barbatos

He invited you for some afternoon tea at the castle as thanks for lending him a hand in his duties the other day. Though there were some other matters around the castle that Barbatos needed to attend to, he asked for you to stay put first and help yourself to some of the treats he had prepared beforehand.

You always admired the intricate designs of the tea set Barbatos always prepared whenever you came over. Since you’re a bit bored, you took out your sketchbook and decided to draw the fancy little tea cups while you wait for Barbatos to come back.

The tea sets that Barbatos prepares always have beautiful pattern designs that range from dainty floral prints up to sets that look more expensive than the Mammon’s weekly bills due to how much the patterns are embedded in gold. If you look closely, you could probably spot little devils on it and it’s cute in its own way.

Little did you know he’s been actually observing you for a while now. He finished his last minute duties rather quickly since it would be rude to keep a guest waiting and that’s when he spots you keeping yourself busy by drawing, your glance going from the tea set to the paper. He wanted to admire that look you have whenever you concentrate for a little bit.

He lets out a small chuckle which gets your attention, a gentle smile on his face as he approaches you. “You’re quite the talented one, aren’t you?” Barbatos says as he takes a seat next to you, glancing at your sketchpad. “Maybe you can tell me more about your work while we enjoy some tea together?”

Barbatos wouldn’t push for you to show anything, but he’ll be happy once you do. He’s impressed at how well you can make patterns that range from something simple to ones that have intricate details. He likes how you can make a portrait of the tea sets he’s been preparing, and secretly he grabs his finest sets to see if you’ll be inspired enough to draw it as well the next time you visit. Maybe he can also pull some strings to put your own pattern designs onto an actual tea cup and serve it to you next time.

Simeon

Sometimes you go to Purgatory Halls to get away from all the constant nagging and chaos of the demon brothers. It’s nice to find that peace and quiet you needed to do your daily tasks or just laze around since you felt like it.

Simeon lets you stay in his room for today while he tries to focus on writing for his novel. He plans on introducing a new character soon and since he trusts you, he starts talking about the character itself. How they compose themselves, what they’re like, the possible role they’ll play in the story, you get all these details before the chapter is even written.

Once he’s done talking he lets you get back to whatever you were doing while he continues trying to figure out how to write the next few parts. Though he soon hears the sound of scribbling pens and wondered if you were doing some homework? He could’ve sworn you were done with those already.

He turns around and to his astonishment, you were sketching the character he was just discussing with you earlier. Given his detailed accounts of the character, you were able to design it well. It’s an understatement to say Simeon is happy. He is ecstatic. You brought this character to life in just a matter of minutes all for him, and that brings Simeon more ideas on how to proceed with writing.

“You never told me you actually knew how to draw. Your talent at visualizing is exceptional.” Simeon would listen carefully while you talk about your journey to the arts and how you honed your talents while he looks through your other works. Afterwards, he starts to praise your art like a professional critique, telling you what he loves in each work.

His heart skips a beat whenever he finds your old works that’s dedicated to his novels. Learning that you’re also talented with the pen like he is, just in a different element, makes him feel a little bit closer to you. If you’re not busy, he may ask for your help when it comes to visualizing something he’s having a hard time with. He’ll treat you to something nice as thanks!

Solomon

Being Solomon’s apprentice means that there are times he’ll require you to assist him with his research. There’s a few spells and potions that he wants to work on, though they all require a lot of preparation work. You both agreed on doing a bit of divide and conquer on those tasks so that it won’t be too time consuming to finish.

You managed to do a lot of chores for him which is quite tiring, though Solomon is grateful for your efforts and he has one last request from you which he said is essential to the potion he’s making. There’s a delicate Devildom flora that Solomon harvested recently, and you have to make sure the flower stays fresh because it can wither very quickly if not taken care of and the potion would fail if that happens. He’ll take it off your hands once he’s done preparing everything else.

Normally, one would’ve kept it in a vase full of water and called it a day. Though you decided to not only put it in a vase, but draw up a summoning circle that would keep it fresh. It’s something that you learned from Solomon’s notes, and the sorcerer is astonished you drew the circle so accurately enough to work on your first try when he came to check up on you.

“Now how did my little apprentice actually manage that so quickly? That would’ve taken me several tries to get the patterns done.” Solomon says with an amused smirk, staring at the circle in awe. Getting one line wrong would’ve instantly killed the flower but right now, he sees that not only is it very much alive but it looks more vibrant than ever. The magic is more potent, Solomon is sure that any potion he makes with its petals would be very effective.

While he was waiting for the potion to boil over in the cauldron, he decided to learn more about this hidden talent of yours. He makes you draw some summoning circles from one of his books, already starting out on the difficult types to draw. All of it is perfect somehow since you’ve had a history of drawing, so your hand is quite steady and you act like it’s no big deal. Solomon will definitely want to see your works in the future.

“A lot of sorcerers can cast magic, but not everyone has the talent to make summoning circles as quickly and accurately as you do.” That’s big praise coming from humanity’s strongest sorcerer. Though that means he’ll want to exploit that talent and call you over every time he needs it in his experiments, it’s a win for him either way because he gets to spend more time with you.

Luke

There’s a new event in Devildom where the angels and you were teamed up to open a stall that’s focused on selling sweets and pastries. Luke appreciates your input when it comes to taste testing his sweets since none of the demon brothers are able to give proper critiques like you can, Simeon tends to be a little too nice to Luke, and Solomon is never allowed near the kitchen. Ever.

Your company is always welcomed and Luke would gladly add any of the sweets you recommended onto the menu. You always come back to the House of Lamentation with a bag full of samples you both baked that day, which always brings a smile to the brother’s face.

You come back to Purgatory Hall only to find Luke seemingly having a dilemma. He reassures you that it’s not because of the batch of sweets and pastries since you helped him perfect the menu. It’s the fact he needs to make a logo and design for the stall. If it can’t attract any customers then all the effort you both put into baking this would go to waste.

You sat down with Luke to brainstorm with him, watching the angel stare blankly at the paper with frustration while you ask him for what ideas he’s already had so far. Luke had to go back to the kitchen to pipe some frosting on the cupcakes, though by the time he came back you were already done with the sketch.

Luke is awed at the design, seeing as how you incorporated both his and your idea for the stall in a way that still blends well together. “Y-you’re incredible! How’d you do that so fast though? You know what, let’s show Simeon first!” If Luke had a tail, it would be wagging from sheer joy. He’d be so excited to get the decorations and paint for the stall that he almost forgot about the cupcakes in the oven.

By the time the stall is finished and running, Luke would definitely flaunt your talent not just for helping him bake but for also designing the stall. “You like the design? They did that!” He would say with an excited grin on his face before pointing at you. Luke enjoys working with you that you both barely notice the brothers getting jealous over the amount of time the angel gets to spend with their human.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke

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cmncisspnandmore · 6 months

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Dont Own Me

Dont Own Me: Simon 'Ghost" Riley X Medic!Reader

Pairing: Simon Riley X Medic! Reader

Warnings: NSFW; MDNI 18+

Summary: Trying to go out with someone doesnt go as planned. Not when Ghost has something to say about it.

Beta Reader: @cordeliawhohung

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey! Y/N, wait up! Do you have a moment?” A voice called after you as you walked down the hall towards the Clinic. You pause, turning around to see one of your fellow medics running after you. You watch as he jogs towards you, and comes to stop a few feet in front of you.

“What's up Michael?” You ask, shoving your hands deep into the pockets of your fatigues. Michael takes a moment to catch his breath, cheat heaving, cheeks slightly flushed.

“I.. I was wondering what you were up to tonight? I was thinking maybe we could grab a few drinks at the bar just off base?” He smiles slightly, running a hand across the back of his neck.

“Oh, yeah sure, I'd like that.”

Michaels face flushed more, “Great, Awesome, I'll meet you there at 21:00?”

You nod, a small smile on your face,”21:00 is perfect.”

You both stand there for a moment, neither one of you saying anything, an awkward silence settling over you. You clear your throat, and look over your shoulder towards the clinic.”Ah, well I should go and finish up inventory… I’ll see you later.” You shuffle backwards, and Michael nods. After another agonizingly awkward moment you turn fully, and start off towards the Clinic.

You shut the heavy metal door to the clinic, pressing your back to it, you take a deep breath. You had worked with Michael before, been friendly while in the Clinic together. He was the medic for another squad that would often be deployed with 141. You never would have guessed that he would ask you out for drinks. Most of the people around here didn't get involved with other personnel, everyone knew the risks, that not everyone would come home. That anytime you walked out that door could be your last.

Now that you were standing in the clinic, the momentary awkwardness of being put on the spot, you groaned. How could you possibly think it was a good idea to go out with him? Sure he was attractive in a generic sense. But there wasn't anything that made you want to crawl into bed with him. He was a nice guy, often taking time to help you clean up after patching up a particularly bad wound for someone. Or even helping you restock most of the supplies when you both happened to have a free moment.

Sighing you run a hand down your face, it was too late now. You stupidly said yes. No backing out of it.

Shaking off the feeling of regret, you busy yourself with the inventory. You head over to the small walk in closet that holds the oversupply. Flicking on the overhead bulb you scan the rows of brown and white boxes. Thick black sharpie labels are scrawled across most of the boxes, save for a few that were missed. Most likely having been thrown into the closet by someone who didn't work in the clinic. Occasionally whoever was free would take in the shipments instead of one of the medics, resulting in unmarked supplies.

It was one of the most infuriating things, in your field of work it was essential that any supplies be found as quickly as possible. Because those few minutes it can take to dig through an unmarked box for a supply that may not be in there can mean the difference between saving someone and losing them. You pull the unlabeled boxes down from the shelves and carry them over to the desk in the corner of the room. Cutting one open you make quick notes of what is inside, restock any missing supplies, and then label the box before sliding it back onto the shelf. The monotonous task takes you a few hours, the repetitive open, stock, label allowing time for your thoughts to drift.

The last mission you and Task Force 141 went on was brutal. Ghost had been shot in the side during the combat. He sustained a fair bit of internal damage from the bullet wound. As the others had spent hours holding back the enemies, you had been tasked with keeping the hulking 6 foot 4 man alive. His normal white skeleton gloves and balaclava splattered with blood, both his and the opponents. Your hands stained red from trying to stop the seemingly endless flow of blood that poured from him.

The 2 hours it took for them to be able to send medevac had been the longest of your life. You liked to think you could compartmentalize, keep work things work, home life home. But when one of your team mates, the people you trust your life with, are holding on by threads and one wrong move could mean going home with stitches versus a body bag.

It wasn't something you had been prepared for, not when it happened to someone as strong as Ghost. He had divulged some of his past to you while half delusional from blood loss that night. Whispering to you about the torture he went through, being buried alive, becoming Ghost.

You weren't sure if he had meant to tell you about it, but at that point as long as he was talking, it didn't matter what it was about. As long as Ghost was talking meant he wasn't dead, and he could still be okay after the whole thing was over.

Eventually, a medevac arrived, they airlifted Ghost to a military hospital where he got surgery to repair the internal damage. He spent 3 weeks in the hospital before he was released and cleared to begin doing light fieldwork. But he wasn't allowed to jump from planes and take down 5 people single handedly. Which thrust Simon right into your side of things, he was stuck back from the action helping you out in the field when needed. He was a decent medic when it came to it. He could stitch and wrap as well as any one with proper training and he was incredibly resourceful when it came to finding things to improvise with.

During your sharred time in the field, you were able to see a different side to Ghost. The side reserved for pretty much no one. He was kind, and surprisingly gentle underneath all of the muscle. He was fond of tea, no sugar or cream. He hated coffee, he frequently questioned how you would drink it. Let alone how you would drink it with as much sugar and cream as you do. He liked leather working when he was on break from 141, but he would never admit it to Soap and Gaz.

He got to know you too, you told him about growing up in small town America. Told him about how your parents didn't have fancy jobs, or flashy cars. You told him about the whole reason you wanted to join the military was to get out of the small town life. You didn't want a 9-5 job, you wanted something that always had you on your toes. Always looking for the next thing to jump into. You also told him about the last squad you had been stationed with.

You told him the tragedy that took place on your last mission with them. The entire unit except for you and one other soldier was KIA, a humvee ran over a landmine. You hadn’t been too badly injured, the humvee you were driving with the Lieutenant of your squad had been behind the one that got struck. Despite your best efforts you weren't able to save them, that day 4 people never got to go home. Two people went home, but they were never going to be the same.

When Captain Price had approached you and asked you if you wanted to be a part of Task Force 141 you were hesitant. It wasn’t until you met the rest of the team, that they cemented your place there. Soap had been the one to welcome you with open arms, literally. He gave you a bone crushing hug while mumbling something you wouldn't understand. It followed with Ghost telling Johnny that if he was going to talk then to at least do it in English. Gaz rolled his eyes as Soap and Ghost started bantering.

Since that day you had been part of the team, officially one of their teammates, and dare even say, one of their friends.

The clock on the wall chimes, pulling you from your thoughts. Glancing at the large clock you sigh, 20:00. One hour until you have to meet Michael at the bar. You put away the last box in the closet and turn off the lights to the clinic before making your way to your room.

One perk of being part of the SAS, was the private rooms, you had a small room on base that you kept some of your personal effects in when you didn't have time to go to your off base London flat. You quickly change out of your fatigues and into civilian clothes, pulling on a red low cut shirt, and a pair of black skinny jeans. You pull on a pair of black heeled boots and take one last look in the mirror.

Letting out a breath, you grab your bag and make your way to your car. Tapping the unlock button of your car, a noise catches your attention. Across the parking lot, Soap and Gaz are laughing, as they walk towards their own cars. You lift your hand in a small wave as they see you.

“Aye Lass! Hou ar ye?” Soap calls, as he walks towards you.

“I’m alright. Where are you two off to?” You raise your eyebrow at the pair.

“We’re going to hit a few pubs, what about you?” Gaz asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m actually meeting someone at a bar, pub, whatever you call it here.” You laugh, and a smile breaks out across Soap's face.

“Maybe we’ll run into each other at some point, Ghost said he might join us later. Said we need a babysitter,” Soap rolls his eyes.

“You two definitely need a babysitter if you’re going out together. We don’t need a repeat of last time, Price wasn’t too happy about having to come get you two out of the river.”

Gaz gives you a weary smile remembering the last time him and Soap went out drinking. They had been 3 sheets to the wind after the 3rd bar. Then one of them; they hadn't figured out which one suggested it first, decided it was a good idea to go swimming in the river. It took Price coming down and ordering them to get out for them to listen.

“Well, I’ll see you later?” You smile, and they turn, heading to their cars. Climbing into the car, you start towards the bar. Leaving the base in your rearview mirror, the rainy streets of London pass by. By the time you pull up to the pub, it’s 21:00, right on time. Taking one last look in the mirror you push open the car door. The pub was bustling with activity, patrons talking amongst themselves, beer mugs clinking on the countertops. A few rowdy men off in the corner being eyed by the bouncer.

Your eyes scan the crowded pub, looking for Michael. The low lighting and smoke wafting in from the patrons outside of the bar makes your quest harder. After a few moments you manage to find him, sitting alone in a booth towards the back. He’s wearing a nice button up shirt and a pair of black jeans. You squeeze through the crowd by the front door. You press forward, stopping at the bar to order yourself a beer. The bartender hands you your drink, taking a sip of the cool liquid you cross the rest of the bar to where Michael is sitting.

“Hey,” you smile, sliding into the other side of the booth.

Michael looks up at you, his beer hanging lazily from his fingertips, “Hey, you look great.”

A small smile forms on your lips, “thank you.”

Michael looks around the bar, his eyes flickering to the people behind you. “It’s nice to see you outside of the base.”

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, the stuffy atmosphere of the bar surrounding you. “Yeah, I don't go out much…” you laugh slightly, picking up your beer and taking another sip. You stare down at the ring of condensation on the table, unsure what to say.

“Why is that by the way?” Michael asks, resting his elbow on the table.

You look up, “Oh, you know how it is, always busy. If we’re not actively on missions we’re training. Plus I don't really know many people outside of 141. I've only been on this side of the pond for a year, and most of that has been spent saving the world.”

Michael nods, “Ah, right, yes. What was your life like in America? Before you came over here?”

“It was alright, not super exciting. I joined the military at 18, right out of highschool. I went on two tours before…” You trail off, the memories of your squad dying in front of your eyes threatening to make you emotional. Taking a shaky breath you try to steady your voice.

“Did something happen on those tours?” Michael asks softly, his hand coming to rest over yours.

“My squad was taken out by a landmine, they died… right in front of my eyes.” You whisper, clearing your throat.

“I'm so sorry,” Michael says softly, giving your hand a squeeze. You force a small smile, and pull your hand out from under his.

“Thank you,” taking a sip of your drink as you glance around, a mohawk catching your attention. Soap, Gaz and Ghost are sitting at a booth on the other side of the bar. Soap has his arm around Gaz as they do shots of an amber colored liquid. Ghost sits in the booth, his skull balaclava on, resting his forearms on the table. His dark eyes scan the crowd as Soap and Gaz laugh. Your breath catches in your throat as his eyes land on you. His chocolate colored eyes burning into you, as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“So, what are your parents like?” Michaels voice draws you back to him. As you turn your attention back to him, you can feel Ghost’s eyes on you taking in your every move.

“They’re nice, typical hard working middle class people from small town america, not really much to talk about. I haven't seen them since I was with 141…”

“Oh, that must suck.. I couldn't imagine not being able to see my parents. I see them often actually.” Michael finishes his beer, setting the empty glass bottle down on the table. You let out an awkward chuckle, a loud roar of laughter comes from the other side of the bar.

Looking over you see Gaz and Soap have taken the stage for Karaoke, as the music starts to swell they start to belt out a horribly off tune version of ‘sweet caroline’. Letting out a groan you watch Gaz and Soap sway and laugh as they stumble over the words to the song. The entire crowd gets louder along with them. Ghost has changed his position, he is no longer sitting in the booth but standing by the side door. His eyes flickering between you and the two drunken task force members on stage.

“Hey, uh, Y/n, wanna get out of here?” Michael asks, standing from the booth, his hand outstretched for you to take. For a moment you hesitate, almost accepting his hand, but his face changes. The presence at your back can only belong to one person, and one person only.

“Ghost? Can I help you?” You glance over your shoulder to find the 6’4 masked man standing behind you.

“Can I talk to you?” He asks, his eyes unreadable as he stares at Michael. Anger prickles along your spine as you stand out of the booth and face him.

“Sure,” you glance back at Michael. “I’ll be right back”

Ghost grabs your forearm and drags you from the crowded bar, he pulls you into the alley between them. The alley is dimly lit as a light misting rain starts to fall. Ghost stands in front of you, “what do you think you’re doing?” He asks, voice low and gravelly.

“I was out getting drinks with someone? What does it look like I was doing?” You cross your arms across your chest. Your eyes locked on Simon’s with a glare. The wind picks up, blowing your hair across your face, you brush it back with a huff as Simon studies you.

“You shouldn’t go with him, he’s not good enough for you,” Simon grunts, eyes narrowing under his mask. You can hear the frown in his voice, even though his mouth is covered by his mask.

“Oh? And you know what's best for me?” You scoff, raising an eyebrow at him. Who the hell did he think he was, telling you what was best for you.

“Yeah I do,” Simon takes a step forward, pushing you further into the alley.

“You barely know me, Ghost!” You seethe, taking a step forward, almost toe to toe with the man. You were so close you could smell his cologne, the warm spicy scent is something you would recognize anywhere. After spending days pressed up together in tight spaces while taking cover from enemy fire.

“I know you better than you think, and you don't belong with some arsehole. Some guy who tries to hook up with every new medic that comes through the base. So yes, I do know what's best for you.” Ghost’s voice is calm, as he looks down at you, his hand reaching out and he brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. You pull back, taking a step backwards from him.

“Just because you fucked me once, doesnt mean I’m yours!” You turn and walk a few paces down the alley, away from him. Trying to put some distance between you two, so you could think clearly. Whenever he was around he consumed your thoughts, made all logic go right out the window. A hand wraps around your upper arm and spins you around.

Ghost towers over you, his large body pressing you back into the cool wall of the pub. He trails his fingers across your jaw and down the side of your neck, leaning in so his mouth is by your ear. The fabric of his mask brushing against your hair. “And if i fuck you again do i get to?” He whispers, sending shockwaves of pleasure down your spine.

“Get to what?” You whisper, knowing full well what he meant, but you wanted to hear it from him. You wanted to hear him call you his.

“Call you mine? Don't play dumb, Love. I know you find Michael boring, and I saw the way your eyes tracked me.” His breath tickles your ear, and you close your eyes. A shiver running through you.

“We should've never done it the first time. You know this Simon, you’re my superior,” you breathe, as he presses closer. Trapping you against the wall with his arms on either side of you, caging you in.

“And as your superior I'm telling you that it's okay to break the rules every once in a while.” Simon whispers, running his hands down your body to rest on your waist.

“Don't you have two other members of 141 to bother? Like the two drunken idiots on stage in that bar?” You whisper.

“I already called Price, he's probably already in there watching them.”

“Simon…” you trail off as you slowly lift the front of his balaclava to reveal his jaw, pushing it up just under his nose. He leans in closer, his mouth inches from yours.

“Stop thinking sergeant,” he whispers his lips brushing yours with each word.

Your eyes fall shut as he slants his mouth over yours, his hands digging into your waist as he hauls you against him. Your body is molding to him like a missing puzzle piece, Simon grunts as you wrap our arms around his neck.

“Let's go,” Simon whispers, as he pulls away slightly. He leans down slightly, and hooks his arm under your knees and throws you over his shoulder. The world is suddenly upside down as he starts walking, you slung over his shoulder like a bag.

“Ghost!” you screech, laughing slightly as his hand comes up to smack you on the ass. You let out a startled yelp as he walks towards his car.

“Quiet, Love. Don't want the others to hear you,” Simon chuckles.

#Simon riley #Simon Riley X reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost #Ghost x reader #ghost x you #cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #Simon x reader #fluff #Soap #Gaz #Price #x reader #x you

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precious-little-scoundrel · 2 months

Text

🍸 Harry Crosby headcanons

18+ -helluva lot of nsfw under the cut but interspersed with a lotta fluff and domesticity…to me that’s the appeal of this man, cannot be separated one from the other: the unassuming sweater wearing vet at the block party is also a man of hidden depths.

Long promised and woefully incomplete, the word count was getting out of hand so I’m tossing it out, there’s more where this came from. Not edited so, apologies

Entirely co-written by myself and my comrogue @crazymadpassionatelove , enhanced and bedazzled by chats with @ab4eva including special additions from other guests who commented under my announcement post, credit is given at each specific point for their contributions

|screencap cred grabbed from: @hawkinsfuller

First off let me say it’s been ages since I read A Wing and A Prayer. I remember loving it, loving him and I cannot stress how much I respect and admire the real Harry Crosby and his Jean, the Missus of our dreams.

This is purely for fun, a heavy mix of both Boyle’s portrayal and a tad of Crosby’s real life vibes as taken from his accounts by me. Sometimes you gotta take historical figures’ virtues in one area -say navigation and math- and translate it to the more suggestive aspects of life -say, how to find a clitori- *gunshot*

Because this man’s biography is the most oral-leaning, drink-your-respect-women-juice book ever. Ok, almost ever. For a wwii book at least. Uhem so -I am prejudiced, sue me.

See, sometimes it’s the quiet, stressed ones with a self consuming desire to please who have the cozy sweaters and the attentive appreciation for your interests and the stubby fat schlongs and the propensity to keep you in suburban comfort all your days

The compulsive drive to call you “button” and be on time for church and thank you for your scrambled eggs each morning with eager kitchen countertop oral before waking you children up with annoyingly soft catchphrases they’ll recite fondly at his funeral: “rise and shine” etc

Also back to the perfectly respectable schlong for just a moment -This is a Thing! Justice for the perfectly adequate plug stoppers, not everyone needs a rolling pin, who can resist giving head when the head is the same gorgeous color as his lips?!

Mr Crosby is skipping off to lecture college kids about literature post-war with a pep in his step that you put there without fail, you can’t help it, it’s as essential as the matching “his and hers” coffee mugs you bought during your honeymoon

Cookies slightly burned cuz you’re busy as bunnies in the bathroom while the kids ride bikes in the cul-de-sac is a Crosby staple

This is a man who as husband keeps you well supplied with mixers and microwaves and cute little nighties and also loves your brain -SCORE.

Loves to gift you with bath oil and fun stuff to smell good. He's into lavender. It benefits him in the end, loves to sit on the edge of the tub and just talk with you for ages

Croz’s go-to distresser is to have Jean sit on his face until his vision spots

She knows as soon as he walks in the door. Fixes him a Shirley Temple, takes him by the hand to the bedroom and …..boom.

De—stressed

As for the ptsd nightmares? He just barely starts to thrash in his sleep and Jean is rolling that man over and taking matters into her own hands

You’re Jean now, you do realize that don’t you? It was never ever going to be anyone but Jean

This man leaves love letters on your pillow, in your apron pocket, in the dash of your car anywhere at all that you’re likely to be. All of this even though he’s gonna be home by six that evening.

Also, hear me out: lots of evenings he just lays down next to you for ages, facing each other on your sides, absentmindedly mapping your body with his calloused palms and fingering you for ages while talking about Persuasion.

Actually gives a shit about your opinions too, and not in the way of wanting to argue them. When you make a good point his eyes get even droopier and he grabs your neck and…

“You're one smart cookie Mrs Crosby”

“My clever, wise, beloved…”

Honestly though, deep connections and the ability to go vulnerable, and if those moments are often concluded with little laughs to shake off the moment -it doesn’t diminish it

Can actually talk about dying to you, not in a morbidly preoccupied way, but he can face it and admit it and be vulnerable enough to acknowledge the likelihood

Then get on with what needs doing

He appreciates how well you grow to know him, and he in turn makes a lifelong study of you

Also, this man is so highly attuned to your well being.

Yes you have to put up with his stress but for you? He will man-up repeatedly and without thought. He doesn’t even think twice about just up and leaving whatever situation is tiring you. did you see him hop up to get the fuck outta that bar fight? Yeah so, you’re bored? Tired? Stressed? It’s not even machismo it’s just a homebody not giving a fuck with the subtext of “my wife and I would like to go home and read and cockwarm”

Often gives the shiftiest excuses to army buddies and coworkers just to go home and hang with you, swears he has to repair that squirrel feeder -or that an alligator is in his swimming pool, “sorry guys maybe drinks next week”

Don’t tell the guys but…HE PAINTS YOUR TOENAILS

Maybe some of your high school friends snickered about Harry Crosby way back when. Making googly eyes at you and barely getting out the most stammered greetings? Bookish and a little clumsy at times?

Ha, you won in the end

He comes home in one piece, that beautiful schlong still intact

you prayed for that ok?

“Lord keep my husband safe -- and his girthy manhood in tact as well” …for the babies you’re hoping for of course...just that… kneeling in silk pajamas each night, adding this addendum with a blush but was always faithful to keep it in your prayers

Sometimes you have that thought in church as well...so you has to take a couple deep breaths and calm yourself...it's because you want children...not because you’re already so sprung off this man's dick after only a couple weeks of married life.

weeks that feels like a lifetime ago now, by the way

Prim and lovely Jean Crosby staring off into stained glass worlds thinking of having her tight little hole tugged open and her guts rearranged, it’s even worse than her thoughts prior to the wedding, because she’s had the experience, then suddenly it was ripped away

And she’s empty and scared to death for him

She gets asked to sing at the funeral of a lieutenant who never even got off the ground during a training flight,

work and church and such are hopeless distractions

Wanders through the department store wondering if every other wife misses this way, does everyone feel the same primal ache?

Dear Jean Crosby terribly worried she’s a freak yet entirely unrepentant for it

But ya know what’s probably funny? Across the ocean Harry Crosby is sometimes so direly missing his wife in the carnal way that he just about spaces out too, and god knows there’s zero privacy anywhere and the showers are the showers but like???? it’s just a no-go most times and everyone gets very confused when he’s in this mood?? Not at all suspecting baser distractions are what’s at play. Somehow someone figured it out, maybe he actually snapped a little about having five seconds to himself while reading a letter and they’re like

And somehow there seems to suddenly be five minutes or so when NO ONE but Crosby is in the showers?!

It only takes him two minutes to get there but he needs to stand there catching his breath and clutching at his heart while he thinks of Jean sprawled beneath him

This is probably Douglass’ doing? Because he’s a good dude, he doesn’t underestimate Croz AND he’s a dirty little bastard himself

“Fellas, the man got himself a wife while half of you guys are virgins? Of course he has urges?”

In a quiet, rare moment, Gale bends his ear -Harry is so modest and low key...unlike some folks *looking at you Bucky*- “So, uh, where'd ya say you and the missus went off to before ya came here?“

Gale’s gotta casually open the door for this conversation “Lots of good sights to see? I, um, haven't done much traveling myself”

It takes Croz a few conversations until he realizes just what Gale means, until then there’s a lot bewildered eyebrows at the inquiry and bashful appreciation for the interest: “Major Cleven I-I already told you, sir, we had a little cabin in the Alleghenies for a week?“

He's been telling Jean about Major Gale Cleven, about how she'd really like him. Gale is a good fella. He tells her about all their "travel talk"

Until one day Jean writes back: “Oh honey, that Cleven of yours is a virgin”

Whether Harry divulges to Gale anything he learned about ladies in that little cabin in the mountains writhing before a fire on a bearskin rug, that first time Harry actually didn’t stop and ask if Jean was dying every time she made a noise but instead, kept going until her cried properly built and she screamed…

well, it was probably an abbreviated account that mostly consisted of “wives are just wonderful people, Major Cleven” with a far off look in his eyes

Gale leaves him to it after all- Harry was married for like 3 seconds before he left, It's literally either playback of the last horrific mission or thinking of the curve of her spine

He gets the dreamiest look on his face, eyes all shiny, mouth a little slack

Somehow these two can be so passionate and yet it’s so wholesome and good and angelic?!!! It’s the allure of them

Because it’s all in these gentle and safe and good boundaries? Like it isn’t complicated and yet it’s not simple and it’s neither settling nor is it turbulent. something to be said for “doing it right”

They genuinely thank God for each other, they’re so sure it was always intended to be just them

I have 1k of headcanons just for the homecoming ok? Y’all will have to request those separate

But once home:

The eye contact they make at social events?? It’s a whole language, the most loving and adorable thing ever

He may not be a real gem of a singer but he’s an excellent hummer. so much gentle humming around the house while he’s fixing the stove light or rocking a baby to sleep or-

You know what I mean don’t you? Some men can just humm and you’re instantly wet? No I don’t mean humming a Billie Holliday tune

I mean humming when you make a new reaction to his incessant fingering while he’s reading, makes him look away from the page and arch a brow, highly inquisitive puppy dog look on his face, reading glasses pulled down.

*a new spot? After all this time? Must investigate further*

This man, when in his element, is a goddamn tease, he’s impossible, he’s goofy, he makes sex the joyous sacrament its supposed to be every damn time and he ain’t shy to remain stark naked for ages

Praise kink for miles in that, once you’ve praised him, he will keep doing whatever earned it for the next two hours. Brace yourself

He can recite your favorite literature passages (he knows them and took pains to memorize them by your tenth anniversary) when he’s gently plowing you from the back with his hand on your neck and your ear lob in between his teeth

He’s a biter my friends -gotta keep quiet somehow, can’t scar the passel of children y’all made, after all

So many excuses given to kids about “mama and I need to talk about the mortgage” -very rarely is mortgage even thought of once the door is closed and locked

But that brings us back to the early days, it’s one thing to know someone so well after all those years but the early days?

Two Virgins named Jean and Harry went straight from the chapel to fucking like Bunnies before he went to war

Harry had done his research tho. All that reading…

Harry Crosby totally ate his wife out on their wedding night.

even though he’d never really seen a full vagina before

he’s a bit methodical, yeah? At first? with a hint of overly flustered and terribly delighted

So I’m just picturing him like hunkering down there, tentative but firm hands on your thighs: “to get my bearings, honey pie” as he takes in the lay of the land

because there’s a lot happening down there on a lady, ok? -there’s petals and more petals and slippery slopes and little buttons and a tiny hole that has to be for pee, no way he’s supposed to go in that one?! but, but she doesn’t have another? Well the backdoo- no can’t even think of that. Oh god ok, ok, vaginal opening, -I guess that’s a vaginal opening?! and due north, a little button that makes her squeak when I touch it. ok ok, might as well start there…

I can see him with a metaphorical pencil behind his ear, ready to jot down notes

Jeanie finally sighs and grips him by the ears and hauls him up for a kiss and just grinds against him and insists it’s lovely

“just kiss me, silly.” she says to him after awhile.

“Mmm, I do like kissing you, Jean” he grins back

he’s naturally kissing his way to her boobs and staying there a lovely long time but she starts pushing at his dark head, *hint hint* lower down her belly and lower, and lower and he’s so caught up he doesn’t even realize it until there’s a sweet little patch of curls under his chin and he looks up with the oddest expression of curiosity and doubt on his face only to be met with Jean’s expectant eyebrow

She wouldn’t want me to?—-*ah, she just face planted me in pussy, ok then*

Lapping at it with the biggest grin, there may or may not have been some noise complaints

the whole apartment complex just knows he’s a good husband, never would peg him as a stud if you met him in the hallway but, Jean sure takes forever to say goodbye to him in the mornings so he must do something right

All the neighbors just can't help but be happy for those two kids

They cook them food and leave the casserole dishes on the landing so they can savor each other for as long as possible before he leaves

Next Sunday they show up at church like dutiful little Americans and they’ve got hickies everywhere and his cheeks are a permanent pink, Her knees are red and raw under her church dress

I feel like maybe they get a little adventurous as their time together draws to a close? Maybe they break a dining room chair? She's too mortified to put it out on the curb

*saves it for 50 years*

Some of those wedding china ends up in pieces on the floor. Can't explain to her aunts why they don't have a full set all of a sudden

i really hope he never loses that occasional hair trigger premature ejaculation tendency.

Sometimes it even shocks him, “O-Oh...shoot”

The last day together is a dismal and precious night

The poor man probably laid there on her sweaty boobs after blowing his last load with the saddest *fml* face on as he processed it being, indeed, his last

But HOMECOMING!

and now the war is over they can set up house and make babies

A small breeding kink, after all, these men marched home from war and basically were told "get a job and let's repopulate for all the boys we lost!"

It’s so damn primal when you think about it but under the veneer of the starched and polished 50’s

Croz can't think straight in that tight little hole, let alone think of the ramifications of another baby

“Give it to me, give me another, come on Harry, we've got an empty space in the Christmas card anyway, think of it!! fill me up baby oh godddd Jesus bless your pretty dick-*

it’s the most mundane reasons and he still busts a nut like she’s some filthy vixen and not his sweet and slightly too optimistic wife

frantic love making with a sweater and socks still on, too

Jean is a writher because the longer they are married the longer he lasts and soon she’s come and he just keeps going and she cannot keep quiet then and he’s too big to ignore or calm down between, just thick enough to always be tugging just right and she fully sobs from it sometimes

Often she’s trying to cup herself?!? Fully spasming and shaking and curling in but his strong forearm is over her belly and his lips on her ear

This man is a god at spooning sex

she is so cock feral when she falls pregnant it almost alarms him

The books didn't say anything about this?! He's exhausted and dehydrated and his classes are suffering as a result

Wants to ask Egan if he encountered this phenomenon

His war buddies become a new father support group

"Hang in there pal, only three more months"

They’ll be in the kitchen just chatting before dinner, she wants to tease him. Scoops a little cherry pie filling onto her finger. He licks it and sucks it off -- bites the finger too, in the background dogs are barking and kids are running amuck

As the Crosbys you’re in for a life of very benign but nauseatingly idyllic Christmas parties.

Snow globes, y’all

Sweaters, spiked eggnog and very well thought out gifts

Harry is the sort to carry Jean's purse when they are out shopping and she is trying on clothes. He also has no problem going and buying her sanitary napkins at the drugstore when she's on her period, because it's completely normal and there's nothing for anyone to be embarrassed about. Basically, he is just stupidly in love with her. He's like a puppy who will always follow, but she doesn't take advantage of that fact (credit to:@noneedtoamputate)

He is Harry “Have You Met My Wife?” Crosby back home, too, it’s even worse when he gets tipsy and his confidence grows and good luck shutting him up about how beautiful she is

This is the sorta man whose kids only learn Daddy was a goddamn boss during the war when they’re outta college, a very casual “oh yeah, that was sort of a thing, pass the salt.”

It’s canon this man cut his own son’s hair all his little life, propped him up on a little stool in the back yard and got to trimming -some of the only times the boy ever heard of those devastating missions

Imagine? Same man who used to take you out on the porch into the night air and rock against his sweater when you were a baby and wouldn’t settle is the same man who bombed the hell outta Fortress Europe

He’s the kind of man whose kids are so enamored over how both sides of the coin could settle in the same man, they end up making a documentary about him

Now I also need you to think of this man at bath time in the early 50’s -Shirt sleeves rolled up, top two buttons on his pristine white button up shirt popped with a peak of chest hair showing through, his curls getting steamed by his kids bubble baths

He’s got the prettiest slightly hairy forearms, y’all -according to Jean at least

Gives himself a bubble beard to make his kids laugh, will stay on his knees watching them play for ages, fully participating

His white shirt gets fully transparent with all this splashing and Jean has to really keep her mind on what’s next when she can so easily see his hair and pretty little nipples pebbled in a chill under them. Stops her whining about water on the floor in seconds.

Harry’s already hushing her and mopping it up with a towel anyway

The Crosby kids will have memories of their idiotically in love and enthralled parents who loved being parents, wrapping their baby selves snuggly into towels and setting them on the counter and just cracking up over how cute they looked with their chubby and shiny widdle faces poking out of terry cloth

Jean and Harry spend a lotta time doing that, they just love their kids, ok?

Brushing their cute little Croz curls

Jean can’t say no to a single one with their sad puppy eyes their daddy gave them

Sometimes they sit the kids in front of the fireplace (they obviously needed a house with a fireplace after that honeymoon) and line them up. Talk about them as if they aren't sitting right there. "Honey, look at those gorgeous eyes -- and his smile! Oh my, who do these cuties belong to?"

But it’s not all placid domesticity. Picture this:

Crosby with a mega phone, organizes a neighborhood Easter egg hunt. He's in charge, his aviators on, taking this so seriously

There are maps, he’s planned this for weeks, some of those traits and skills he picked up during the war come back at the oddest times

this gets even more intense if any of the war buddies are there

Harry writes letters to them strategizing, they all come and bring their own kids

It makes the local paper for being one of the biggest Easter egg hunts the state has ever seen

Night falls, children fall asleep and there are still some eggs left. Armed with booze and flashlights, the boys go out to collect the rest

Harry and Jean don't collect any though, they end up in a bush necking somewhere

Bucky gets very adamant about finding them and Brady is just as adamantly begging him not to

But Major Egan cannot be stopped, he rallies his men, hopping on the kids’ bikes and scooters

Everyone heckling each other in the dark suburban neighborhood

"Ya lost your touch Buck, keep up will ya?"

They all end up in a schnapps induced heap in the Crosby's backyard, long limbs all folded up on too small equipment

Jean and Harry leisurely stroll back up the street under lamp glow to their house where everyone is feral and collapsed and calling loudly for their hosts

Sharing soft little smiles and picking twigs out of each others hair

They tuck these idiot men in on the couches and floor, blankets, sleeping bags and dogs

Hear me out: Jean is the only human able to talk a belligerent Bucky out of his thirtieth beer

She has that sweet way about her that makes every person wanna be a better man for her

When he finally gives in and throws his arm over her little shoulders and swears she’s a good woman, Harry is there with the pan and the aspirin and the blanket

She makes them all the most perfect hangover breakfast the next morning, gingham checked apron stretched over swollen belly

Harry nuzzles her belly when she stops at his plate to dish up the eggs

Everyone wants to gag over how perfectly content these two are but that would be a waste of the best breakfast in the USA

And if Jean happens to make the best baked goods on the block - Croz is making sure everyone knows just who’s muffins those are on the bake sale table. Or if she wants to pursue a career or education? Harry is her biggest cheerleader, doing anything and everything to support her and being sure that everyone knows how incredible she is at what she does. (Credit @blurredcolour)

They may be the sweater wearing, block party and Sunday school couple but don’t think anybody gets away with being snide to Mrs. Jean Crosby -there will be comeuppance, even if it’s just an exquisitely literate verbal evisceration.

There's even more often a roaming band of local kids who kick the shins of everyone who's mean to Mrs. Crosby, because she gives them sweets and feeds them when they're hungry and cleans up their scrapes when play gets too rough and -if Mr. Crosby hands out a comic or two to the boys that "accidentally" tripped some bloke who was harassing his wife, well. All is fair in love and war. (Credit to @promptedwordsmith)

When in the summer of 49 the Crosbies get a swimming pool dug? It might as well be considered public property.

not just the kids who are attached to the crosbies, though. your home is a constant revolving door of visitors - including a bunch of ex-servicemen. if it's not bucky lounging in the pool, or rosie painting the fence in his shirtsleeves because he wanted to be helpful, then douglass is smoking a cigarette in the yard while trying to make you laugh. ev is asking harry to show him how to read this goddamn map bc they're supposed to be taking a trip to the grand canyon in a month, and bubbles is over for dinner every other night. even brady sometimes shows his face, if only to carp at harry for getting them lost over france that one time while working the barbecue because you asked him to. when you and harry bought the house with an extra room you weren't sure you would ever use, you didn't expect it to be occupied as often as a popular hotel. if anyone ever had any bad intentions toward the crosbies, they're definitely rethinking it. those that don't...well. being in the air corps teaches one all sorts of creative ways of getting back at people. (Credit to @fidelias)

Imagine all the different skills the Crosby kids (_and their neighbor friends who never seem to leave_) learn from these guys?

“Oh yeah, Bucky Egan taught me how to swim while wearing his aviators…”

In other words:

Harry Crosby went home and built himself a little Norman Rockwell Camelot and then opened the doors of the kingdom to his buddies and -that’s as it should be.

And that’s not even mentioning how the Air Force and the CIA walked up to his front porch and interrupted a backyard ballgame to ask him for his help

It sucks to be super smart and needed when all ya wanna do is teach literature, go camping and help keep the church life going

But still

Jean sure looked good in Pakistan, the kids enjoyed a new culture and Harry likes to say he may have done some good

#mota fanfic #masters of the air #harry crosby #Harry Crosby fanfic #Harry Crosby x reader #mota headcanons #masters of the air fanfiction #anthony boyle #hbo war fanfic

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A Rundown of Henry Kissinger's Life

“Once you’ve been to Cambodia, you’ll never stop wanting to beat Henry Kissinger to death with your bare hands. You will never again be able to open a newspaper and read about that treacherous, prevaricating, murderous scumbag sitting down for a nice chat with Charlie Rose or attending some black-tie affair for a new glossy magazine without choking. Witness what Henry did in Cambodia – the fruits of his genius for statesmanship – and you will never understand why he’s not sitting in the dock at The Hague next to Milošević. While Henry continues to nibble nori rolls and remaki at A-list parties, Cambodia, the neutral nation he secretly and illegally bombed, invaded, undermined, and then threw to the dogs, is still trying to raise itself up on its one remaining leg.”

--Anthony Bourdain (2018)

It's difficult to be precise, but all told Henry Kissinger killed hundreds of thousands of civilians in pursuit of American business interests.

EARLY LIFE

Henry Kissinger was born in 1923 as Heinz Kissinger in Fürth, Bavaria, Germany, to a German-Jewish family. Throughout his youth, he was relentlessly and violently harassed and discriminated against by members of the Hitler Youth and authorities. At the age of 15, Kissinger and his family fled Nazi Germany, settling in New York City. He finished high school at George Washington High School in NYC and began studying accounting at the City College of New York, but his undergraduate studies were interrupted in 1943 when he was drafted into the US army.

In the army, fluent German speakers were in short supply, so Kissinger was quickly assigned to military intelligence. During the American invasion of Germany, he worked to set up civilian administration of conquered cities and tracked down Gestapo officers as a Special Agent of the Counter Intelligence Corps. He received the Bronze Star Medal

After his time in the army, Kissinger returned to his studies. He graduated summa cum laude in political science from Harvard College, as well as his Masters and PhD. He taught at Harvard, and his studies focused on international 'legitimacy', when an international order is widely accepted by international leaders, without regard to public opinion or morality.

POLITICS

Beginning in the 1950s, Kissinger began to be more active on the political stage. He was a consultant for the National Security Council and a study director for the Council of Foreign Relations. He notably was against Eisenhower's massive retaliation nuclear doctrine, where the United States would respond to a nuclear attack with a much, much greater nuclear attack. Instead, Kissinger advocated the use of tactical nuclear weapons on a regular basis in more wars.

In the 1960s, Kissinger began working with Republicans running for office as an advisor in foreign affairs. He contributed to the Nixon campaign, and when Nixon took office in 1969, Kissinger was appointed as National Security Advisor, and later Secretary of State. As a diplomat, Kissinger heavily used Realpolitik, the in-fashion Cold War approach focusing on pragmatism and realistic outcomes rather than ideological or moral purity. In international politics, it largely has to do with obtaining and maintaining power on the world stage.

Kissinger focused on relaxing US tensions with the USSR and China, leading an American foreign policy that supported Taiwan on the face but in the shadows removed all support for Taiwan and essentially waited for it to fall apart.

In 1974, he directed the National Security Study Memorandum 200: Implications of Worldwide Population Growth for U.S. Security and Overseas Interests (NSSM200), sometimes called the "Kissinger Report" the official United States policy for many years, though it remained classified until the 1990s. The Kissinger Report advocated for population control in undeveloped nations to ensure easy resource extraction and protect American business interests abroad. Projects were designed to reduce fertility while keeping up the appearance of improving quality of life--the plan specifically attempted to avoid an appearance of "economic or racial imperialism". Birth rate was particularly noted due to concerns about an adequate global food supply and because young people more readily fight back against corruption and imperialism. The Report also brought up increasing abortion rates as a method of obtaining this goal.

In 1975, policies based on the Report went into affect. The National Security Council would recommend withholding food and using military force to prevent population growth, prioritizing aid for small families, and even paying people to get sterilized. Thirteen countries were named as particularly problematic to US interests. Of note, Nigeria lost development and the United States took control of Nigerian resources, and the United States Agency for International Development (USAID) was responsible for some of the 300,000 forced sterilizations in Peru--largely impoverished or indigenous women--during the Fujimori administration. The Fujimori government has been accused of crimes against humanity by the International Criminal Court for these abuses, and today the Peruvian economy suffers due to the low population resulting from these sterilizations.

ACTIONS IN SOUTHEAST ASIA

The Vietnam War had started back in 1955. Kissinger had originally supported it, but as time dragged on began to view it as harming American prestige. Kissinger leaked information about peace talks to get into power at Nixon's side, and then failed to end the war in 1972, leading to the Christmas bombings. A very similar agreement was signed the next month, leading to a ceasefire (that would collapse) and the withdrawal of American troops--bitterly seen as a betrayal by South Vietnam. When Kissinger and Vietnamese diplomat Lê Đức Thọ were jointly awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for this, Thọ declined to accept it and two members of the Nobel Committee left it in protest.

It was in the middle of the Vietnam War, and during the Cambodian Civil War, that Operation Menu and Operational Freedom Deal went into play. From March 1969 to May 1970, the United States Strategic Air Command carried out a series of first tactical and then carpet bombings in eastern Cambodia. Then, from May 1970 to August 1973, the United States provided close air support and widespread bombing. Part of a 'secret' war to support the Kingdom of Cambodia/Khmer Republic against communist rebels, it ultimately failed and the communists would take power in 1975.

In the Bangladesh Liberation War in 1971, Nixon and Kissinger supported the Pakistani president Yahya Khan. It was in this that the strongest dissent in the history of the U.S. Foreign Service, the Blood Telegram (named after sender Archer Blood), was sent. It reports the US was about to lose, describes systemic abuses, and uses the word 'genocide' to describe the actions by US-supported Pakistan. It said the US government was morally bankrupt. Blood was recalled early from Bangladesh, and US interests were lost when Bangladeshi Independence was secured within the year.

MIDDLE EASTERN POLICY

Kissinger was originally excluded from any policy-making on Israel, as part of Nixon's orders to exclude all Jewish-Americans from such work. Still, in 1973, when Kissinger became Secretary of State, he was included in all US Middle Eastern policy. This means he was largely responsible for the handling of the Yom Kippur War--this handling included not noticing precipitating factors leading up to it (he was so engrossed in Paris peace talks he didn't notice the Egyptian President Sadat ready to move on Sinai), delaying telling Nixon about and stalled negotiating a ceasefire, hoping Israel would push across and fully obtain the Suez Canal.

Kissinger's diplomacy included giving equipment to Israel, but not as much as he'd promised, and selling weapons to Saudi Arabia at the same time, in exchange for access to Saudi Arabian oil. By largely handling to event and not involving France or the United Kingdom, and by minimizing the power of the Soviet Union, Kissinger took large steps in giving US power over much of the Middle East.

It should be noted that this was done purely to protect US interests rather than any form of Jewish security. When questioned about the persecution of Soviet Jews at the same time, Kissinger said

"The emigration of Jews from the Soviet Union is not an objective of American foreign policy, and if they put Jews into gas chambers in the Soviet Union, it is not an American concern. Maybe a humanitarian concern."

-Henry Kissinger (1973)

Also in the region., Kissinger supported Iran against Iraq.

TURKISH INVASION OF CYPRUS

In 1974, the Greek military regime and Turkiye invaded the island of Cyprus. The military regime had been supported by Kissinger, and anti-Kissinger sentiment was strong among young people. Cyprus is now an independent island country, though its northeast portion is de facto separate, making up the self-declared Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus. Kissinger considers his own handling of the Cyprus Issue unfavorably.

LATIN AMERICA

With Kissinger's influence, the United States maintained relations with non-left-wing governments regardless of commitment to democracy. It was with Kissinger's input that the CIA encouraged a military coup against Chilean president-elect Salvador Allende due to his socialist ideals.

Operation Condor, a US-backed program of political repression by right-wing dictatorships of southern South America, was also Kissinger's work. It included assassinations, the Dirty War in Argentina, and supporting Brazil's nuclear weapons program because it would benefit the U.S. private nuclear industry.

SOME OTHER STUFF

Kissinger's policy on post-WWII decolonization was mixed, based on what would benefit the U.S. He helped transition Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) away from White minority rule, expressed moderate support for the Portuguese Colonial Empire, and helped Indonesia occupy East Timor.

After Watergate forced Nixon to resign, Kissinger stayed on under President Ford but left office when Democrat Jimmy Carter came into power. He was offered an endowed chair at Columbia University, which was canceled due to student opposition, but was appointed to Georgetown University instead. He ran a consulting firm, supported the Chinese government in the Tiananmen Square massacre, and served on the 2000 Commission of the International Olympic Committee. He was supposed to help President Bush respond to the 9/11 attacks but stepped down because he refused to reveal if he had a business conflict of interest.

In 2010, he took a strong stance urging world governments to destroy all nuclear weapons. In the 2014 Ukrainian crisis, he said that Crimea should remain under Ukrainian sovereignty, but in the 2022 Russian invasion of Ukraine said that Crimea and Donbas should be given to Russia.

Kissinger was a board member of Theranos, Elizabeth Holmes' biotech scam.

In response to the 2023 Hamas attack on Israel, and seeing pro-Palestinian protestors in Germany, Kissinger called Muslim immigration into Germany "a grave mistake".

DEATH

Kissinger died peacefully in his home in Connecticut on November 29th, 2023,

#history #destiel #henry kissinger #imperialism #anti imperialism #if any of you use this as an excuse to be antisemitic or prolife im coming for all your bones

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