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#what is Strategic Operations?
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I was gonna try to wait until I watched the whole series to start forming theories and all that but the idea of the Freedom Fighters not really acting strategically in SATAM (having a single base that they live and operate in, only mobilizing a small number of volunteers to fight against Robotnik, and having at least one member that continually just acts on his own whims and ignores the team leader) is really getting to me. Like they're just kids trying their best, but sometimes their best isn't actually... good.
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Ivanova: hey, Marcus- do you want the rest of this?
Marcus: no, thanks, I’m good with the food in front of me. I do appreciate the offer, though.
Sheridan: I’ll take it if you don’t want it, Susan.
Ivanova: like hell you will!
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palms-upturned · 4 months
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Frustrates me to no end seeing people say “what’s your alternative to voting blue? Stage a revolution right now? This second? Get real, you’re posting on your computer instead of firebombing walmarts.” I don’t think that you understand what people are actually doing. I know for myself, I’ve been reading more history and theory than I ever have before. I’ve been marching. I’ve been getting involved with labor activism. I’ve been doing strategic research. I’ve tried to archive and share resources. I’ve watched other people do WAY more than I ever have or probably could. I’ve seen people occupy arms manufacturing sites and hold wildcat strikes and disrupt daily life as much as possible. We’ve all seen this happening at unprecedented levels for months now. And most of all, I’ve seen Palestinians telling us, rightfully full of anger, do not ever go back to how things were before. Do not turn away from what’s happening and your own complicity in it.
This is not something that we can vote our way out of. Our state is built on the same violence being inflicted on the people of Palestine. We helped to build Israel. We are still arming it and funding the “war” right now. Even the most half hearted measures from international bodies like the UN to take the bare minimum of a stance against genocide are quashed by the US. As they always have been, our power and resources are used to reinforce imperial and colonial hegemony. That remains the same no matter who is sitting in the Oval Office. And so does our own struggle for liberation. Meaningful change is never, ever going to come from within. We force the change to happen, as we always have.
If you can understand intersectionality, then surely you can understand this: we are not going to free ourselves by sacrificing colonized people. You may vote blue, and for you it could be a matter of life and death. Believe me, as a poor disabled person in a red state who almost killed myself over medical debt, I know the stakes. But I think you have to own the fact that you are empowering perpetrators of genocide and breaking solidarity with colonized people, not even to liberate yourself, but just to bargain with the oppressor for your life. That Palestinians and everyone else who we have harmed are going to be angry and they are more than within their rights. Instead of deflecting by just assuming that no one else is capable of putting their money where their mouth is and actually trying to lay groundwork for change, just do whatever you feel you have to do and sit with the reality of the situation.
Palestine will be free, we will be free, the whole world will someday be free. But for now, this is where we are, and we won’t free ourselves by operating like crabs in a bucket. Get organized, take care of each other, commit to solidarity. Empower yourself and each other rather than the state.
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jymwahuwu · 5 months
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Food for thought, High-cloud Quintet era:
Jing Yuan, Dan Feng and Yingxing helping their innocent Darling (same darling bc its fun!) with "Stamina and Flexibility" training fwhile (and esp when) they have darling assist them in their work after a certain Sword Champion turned their request to be a disciple down for the nth time.
To make it more fun, there is no fixed schedule plan as in order to be a warrior, one must always be prepared to deal with unexpected situations after all:
- Dodging random and unexpected tendrils made of water by a certain high elder to test ones reflexes.
-Maintaining their concentration when meditating whilst being strapped down on a... "concentration training" machine made by a certain blade smith.
-Maintaining concentration and ability to strategize whilst being folded into different poses during a match of star chess with a languid Lieutenant.
For example, whilst also having to assist them while they work. They are busy people, you can't expect them to take time off their schedule to dedicate it to training you alone, would you?
-one of the peeps who hunts the comments section
This is so delicious, I immediately thought of what that would be like… 😌🫶
-CW: yandere, abuse of trust, overstimulation, sex machine
You are so naive and innocent... You are all focused on how to improve your strength and contribution, and you don't realize that there is something wrong with their "training"…
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Dan Feng:
Imbibitor Lunae has the ability to manipulate water, weave rain and dew, create storms, and even split seawater, so training with water is really something you can expect. You just didn't expect…High Elder's training to be so…random. From HSR's description, we can know that Vidyadhara possesses a technology called cloudhymn magic, which can make them almost completely invisible and appear quietly around people. So… you were attacked completely randomly.
The water occasionally sprays onto your underwear, wetly revealing the shape of your sexual organs inside. You squirmed uncomfortably and closed your legs to avoid others noticing that water was dripping between your legs for no reason… You didn't want to be thought of as a weirdo who was in heat anytime and anywhere…
Dan Feng didn't even come to you on purpose. He showed no emotion when he did this. The High Elder sometimes wiggles his fingertips a little and your underwear is soaked, and then he goes to have lunch and deal with the daily affairs of Vidyadhara. Sometimes, your chest will also get wet, causing two puddles of water on the clothes on your chest. It's so embarrassing! You have to cross your arms over your chest to cover it up and then go change.
But…the "training" that requires taking off clothes is different. Dan Feng asks you to remain still. For an hour continuously, the warm water sprays on your private parts, the effect is like masturbation in the shower… You have to resist moving. This is a challenge of endurance and willpower…
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Yingxing:
This talented weapon forger has gained a good reputation most of the time… Many people have commented that he is arrogant, but Yingxing does have the qualifications of "arrogance".
You trust Yingxing. He is so sweet and builds those weapons for you for free. He put decorations on the weapons he gave you and engraved them with beautiful patterns that suit you.
So… Even though Yingxing gave you that weird "concentration training" machine, you accepted it. That machine is automated…or it operates according to the program created by Yingxing, with more than ten modes.
In the normal mode, you only need to sit on the dildo of the machine (what Yingxing did not tell you is that the shape of the dildo is according to his…), and be penetrated deeply and trembled at the frequency of thrusting. This machine always seeks out your sensitive spots and stimulates them long-lasting and thoroughly. In full mode, your hands and legs are immobilized, and your nipples are caressed and rubbed for constant overstimulation.
Yingxing asks for your feedback and improves the machine. Maybe you should consider some suggestions…
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Jing Yuan:
Jing Yuan coaxes you - this is about concentration and strategic skills training. If you can't strategize without interruption, you will suffer defeat in combat. He's just doing it for your own good. This…sounds reasonable?
At least once a day, you have to play chess with Jing Yuan, but the distraction is that you have to sit on his cock and fiddle with the chess pieces. He unbuttoned his pants and took out his fat cock, which was erect. He held his chin, narrowed his eyes and smiled, urging you to sit up. It took you a lot of courage to sit on it for the first time, and the unfamiliar cock almost split you open. So…thick and long. You moaned softly with every inch he thrust in, and his thumb rubbed your private parts to help lubricate you. Sitting completely on it is a terrifying experience. Pleasure bewilders and corrupts your brain…
Maybe this is what Jing Yuan meant by "training"? About whether you can focus on strategizing.
Of course you are… unable to focus. It collapsed in a few steps. Your fingertips tremble as you place the chess pieces. The brain cannot think about the next strategy and route…
After a few months, you get better at it, a little bit, but every time you get close to reaching "victory," you're screaming and bouncing on the general's cock, missing the chance of "victory" in orgasm...
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zorciarkrildrush · 6 months
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I think the essence of what drives me crazy about current Enlightened Online Leftist Discourse Regarding My Life Personally And Whether This Time Killing Me Is Morally Correct (as in, commentary about the latest episode in i/p violence) is this:
I want a free Palestine.
I don't personally know a lot of people that don't! They might bristle at the tagline, because it's co-opted by people who do in fact want them dead, but as soon as I lay out why it's in literally everyone's best interest, how a non-free Palestine is horrific both to the people of Israel and to the people of Palestine, how pragmatically ridiculous the occupation of the west bank and the siege upon Gaza are (and I am a very pragmatic person), they get it. And I don't mean I debate people online about it - this, too, is a ridiculous concept - I mean having, time and time again, the deradicalization conversation with my friends, and colleagues, and my family. Obviously not only now - I've always been a very principled and argumentative Jew, ever since I became an adult - and I've been alive for, I don't know, a dozen flashpoints and operations and wars at this point, and I don't stop being argumentative and loud in peacetime either, but especially now.
But that's not what "from the river to the sea" means.
When you, gentle soul from across the sea, echo this slogan, you are either:
By apathy or will, ignoring that the sentiment cheers for the mass expulsion and killing of Jews. Indeed, any non-Muslim present from the river to the sea. This doesn't even begin to cover how even Muslim arabs still will not be safe under Hamas rule - and trust me, I don't care if a Hamas apologist told you different. A victory for Hamas (And we're ignoring the fact they do not have the military capacity for it - I hope you are aware of the privilege inherent to not understanding military conflicts) means exactly that. No "rule by the people". No socialistic, Palestinian utopia to be had, which is a fantasy I'm seeing alluded to a lot recently. Just an extension of the horrific power structure in Lebanon and Syria, where Hezbollah - friends and allies to Hamas - have been playing a tango for decades of both refusing to participate in actual government and betterment of civilian lives, while still draining their resources and controlling them with no real contest. "From the river to the sea" is not a sentiment for freedom fighting - it's a sentiment for a final solution to the people living here who are either Jewish, or for some Very Strange And Weird Reason would rather not submit to Hamas rule. You know - Israeli Arabs, secular and Muslim and Christian, Druze, Circassians, Bahai, take your pick. Their suffering, and my suffering - you know, a person who made the strategic error of being born in Israel while Jewish, which is inherently problematic and not okay of me - don't matter to you. Just the fantasy of an easy, morally correct cleanse of the land.
Are well aware of all of the above! You just don't care. You either smugly chuckle that I, and anybody else who will die, deserve it - or that it's an acceptable loss for the aforementioned fantasy. "Decolonization is an inherently violent process", you'll say to me, chillingly, before implying I have a summer home in Brooklyn I can just retreat to when things get tough. Israel is basically Rhodesia, a very popular blog here mentioned flippantly, so what's the issue with all of those lily-white Jews fucking off back home before the righteous freedom fighters strike them down? Well. This might be the part I urge you to open a book, or even Wikipedia or any god damn thing that will explain to you these upsetting, dense things you clearly struggle with.
So finally:
It's easy for me to discount islamophobes. Like, very easy. It's very easy for me to discount insane evangelistics who "advocate for me" simply because I'm a pawn in their religious rapture. It's easy for me to fight against Israeli and Jewish fascists - I have been long before this news item came across your feed, as did the insinuations that some civilian deaths are okay, actually.
It's easy for me for me to see promotions for donations to non-political aid in Gaza. It's easy for me to see the sentiment that hey! Palestinians deserve safe, healthy lives. That they have deserved an independent state, and were unfairly denied one, for decades. It's easy for me to see people saying "You know, the Israeli government is shit, actually, and their actions endanger and promote to the misery of innocents". Because that's right! I wouldn't be voting and protesting and donating for all of these sentiments otherwise!
It's not easy for me to see people, who I honestly held in high regard and saw having well thought out opinions on important matters, inadvertently echo the sentiment that my death is acceptable. That a terrorist organization, who rule over their own territory with fear and violence, are righteous freedom fighters, vox populi, only out to establish a free state. Like hey, their manifesto said otherwise, so it must be all there is - right? That Jews are just hysterical, they can easily live elsewhere - ever since that nasty holocaust business everything's fine abroad. Besides, it was just so long ago who even cares stop talking about it. Hamas, Hezbollah, ISIS, the Ayatollahs in Iran, the fucking Islamic Jihad - are not interested in freedom. They aren't, and echoing their slogan tells me you are either ignoring that, or support them anyway. If antisemitic rhetoric, half truths and lies by omission work on you today, they would have in any period of time. I'm sorry this makes you uncomfortable. I'm not, not really.
Know what your fucking words mean. Have a cursory glance at the history of the MENA and why it's so fucked, one that doesn't boil down to "The Jews, with American help, rolled into where they don't belong". This isn't even a joke. I've seen this braindead, history-revising sentiment repeated so many times, both online and in actual textbooks, that I feel I'm going insane. So many well-meaning people handwringing and assuring each other that repeating genocidal slogans is fine, that calling the i/p conflict "a simple problem" (which means it has a simple solution, right? Just kill the Jews.) is a well-adjusted and intellectual take. That "only the Zionists should die! The rest will be fine :)" I dare you to say that and also give me a correct definition of what Zionism is. Why I, a Jew that advocates for Palestinian statehood and rights and safety and always have, won't also face the wall in your little fantasy.
Freedom to Palestine. Peace in the middle east, fucking yesterday.
A curse and a plague on those who don't want either of those, and just want to cheer on the death of "the other side".
A curse and a plague upon you, when you tell me, smugly, from somewhere safe and far away, "from the river to the sea".
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psychotrenny · 6 months
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It’s fucking insane to me how normal Yankee Liberals are about Hawaii. As in like the way they just treat it as an unremarkable fact that their nation controls the island. Like the annexation of Hawaii wasn’t just any old example of Settler-Colonialism, the subjugation of a decentralised non-urbanised people that could be just dismissed as mere “tribes” or what have you. Not to say that such forms of “typical” Settler Colonialism are any less abhorrent or disgusting, just easier to justify from a Liberal point of view. Easier to claim that they weren’t *really* using the land properly or that they were an hopelessly and eternally backwards who only really benefitted from their conquest or that they were doomed and dying anyway and their fate was a mere tragic inevitability not worth dwelling on or… Point is all these arguments are all wrong and stupid and cruel but they can serve well enough to downplay or justify such atrocities in the eyes of Imperial Core Liberals.
But like with Hawaii you don’t have that. The Kingdom of Hawai’i was a sovereign state that was internationally recognised as such by the Great Powers of Europe even at the very height of Western Imperialism. Literacy rates were high and compulsory education was introduced in 1841 (pre-dating the US by 77 years), healthcare was given to all Hawai’ian subjects free of charge, Christianity was dominant (so even the most ardent Imperialist couldn’t claim that the people were in the thrall of some “barbaric superstition” that necessitated the “civilising influence” of empire) and it had a well-developed Capitalist economy dominated by Sugar production.  Like even if we take the Western model of statehood as the be all end all of what separates the civilised from the savage (to be clear hear you really fucking shouldn’t, but many people do so for a second that’s the frame of reference we’ll employ) then Hawai’i was very much unambiguously the former.  But that didn’t stop the US from shamelessly interfering it’s politics Indeed those aformentioned markers of Western-Style “civilisation” and “development” came with the price of allow US missionaries and investors to settler in the islands and become very wealthy and influential. For decades the US used the threat of force to influence the policy decisions of the kingdom, going as far as to regularly send warships in a classic display of “gunboat diplomacy”. In 1887 a US settler militia called the First Honolulu Rifles staged a coup where they forced Kalākaua to accept a new Constitution that heavily favoured the interests of USamerican settlers who had grown very wealthy through their investment in sugar production on the island.  It stripped the Monarchy of much of its power and introducing requirements for voting that heavily favoured US settlers; re-introducing wealth/property requirements that were now higher than even, allowing resident aliens to vote and just outright banning any Asian immigrants from voting (which at that point had as much to do with plain racial hatred as it did to any acting threat they might have posed). This wasn’t enough for the Yanks and 6 years later a group of 13 US settlers known as the “Committee of Safety” outright overthrew the newly crowned Queen Liliʻuokalani when she refused to co-operate. It existed briefly as an “Independent” USamerican dominated republic before the US government decided to official annex it in 1898 (similar to what you saw with Texas or California).
While incredibly controversial at the time due to both strategic concerns with the annexation of ultramarine territories and some level of outrage at the shameless take-over of a sovereign nation (hence the time gap between the coup and the actual annexation), nowadays Yanks enjoy their control over the island without the slightest care in the world. They even turned it into a tourist destination, a heavily romanticised one that not only receives many millions of visitors every year but is constantly mentioned in the popular culture the US then proceeds to export all over the world, literally revelling in their land that is by literally any definition (even the most nakedly pro-imperialist) stolen. The land itself is severely exploited to the point of significant ecological damage, the indigenous peoples too are exploited as many of them live in poverty while US investors grow wealthy from their land and labour. Even their very culture is stolen and monetised, the most marketable parts bastardised into cheap kitsch and the rest of it left to rot, only kept alive through over a century of continued resistance from the indigenous peoples. It’s a very common story of course, but I think it stands out with how utterly ghoulish it is even under the most Liberal of consistently applied worldviews. It would be like if in say 2007 someone set up Disneyland in Bagdad. And yet by the vast majority of the US (and by extension the vassals states whose view of the situation is filtered through the lens of US media and propaganda) it isn’t seen that way. Hawaii is just the 50th state, the only state outside North America and in the tropics (hahaha ain’t that a neat little fact. Geography is so fun J), an island paradise perfect to visit with the whole family and yet still as American as Apple Pie. Even many self-described “progressives” talk about it in this way, at most mentioning the plight of the indigenous Hawaiians with minimal though as to how this situation came about. Like while the story of Hawaii is far from unique; even in terms of the US doing colonialism to Westernised peoples you examples such as the ethnic cleansing of the Five Civilised Tribes from the Eastern USA, it still stands out to me with the sheer level of international recognition and Western-style development that the Kingdom of Hawai’i possessed. Like it’s just such an obvious example of the naked greed at the heart of the USamerican empire, and how utterly bullshit talk of a “civilising mission” and “spreading democracy” is. No matter what they may claim, no matter what excuses they may trot out, Imperialist rapacity has no limits.
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norrizzandpia · 4 months
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hello, firstly i would like to say ur writing is phenomenal!! secondly i wanted to request something like the reader having some insecurities or just social media making her feel unworthy of lando thank u 🫶🏼
Ive been hanging onto this request for a while bc i love these scenarios bc they hit so close to home and I always need to be in the right mindset for them and now i am!
Love You the Way I Do (LN4)
Summary: When Y/n starts to pull back, Lando knows exactly what to do.
Warnings: insecurities, talks of not being good enough, language
Note: the reason ive been so mia on here is because ive just been in such a bad slump and not feeling good about myself or feeling good enough in general and im starting to get out of it with a lot of time focusing on myself but i really miss it on here so im using this as a way to kind of help me cope a bit with what ive been going through recently
Y/n was never good with her emotions. Discussing them and trying to work on them, she could never reach a certain level of comfortability with the people in her life that allowed her to be that vulnerable with them. Her parents, friends, and other family members had to pry words out of her when it was clear she was struggling and no amount of therapy sessions had cured the vicious cycle. However, Lando’s peaceful presence in her life had shifted the way she operated, allowed her to open up more easily with the way he would hold her until she was ready.
He was patient, almost strategic, when it came to getting through to her. Past moments of darkness where she would try to shut him out, try to be alone in the agony, were lessons in which ways worked best to get her to realize that he was there for her, waiting with open arms and constantly ready to listen.
Easing her mind, that was Lando’s job and he was damn good at it.
He could always tell when there was a war going on beneath the walls of her head. When she would go quiet or laugh just a bit less, he caught on fast. Just like now, as he sat on the couch in their shared apartment and watched her talk to her sister on the phone in the kitchen, Lando clocked the way she wasn’t as smiley, as excited to talk to one of her favorite people in the world.
“Thursday? No, I can’t do Thursday. I’ve got some stuff to do.” She mumbled into the speaker. Lando could hear her sister respond, something about Y/n being too busy, but he couldn’t truly digest the words, too engrossed in his own mind wondering what she had Thursday.
If he remembered correctly, she had nothing scheduled.
The second sign; distancing herself from people close to her and staying inside unhealthily.
She paced the room, rounding each corner of the counter as she bit the nail on her thumb, “Friday, no… next Monday, no… next Wednesday, no…”
Their conversation continued that way until her sister gave up on trying to find a date, muttering about letting her know when the next date Y/n was available was, and hung up. His girlfriend set the phone down on the marble, head falling forward as she huffed out a breath.
“You okay, love?” He spoke, voice hesitant as to not startle very clearly something loud in her mind.
She turned her eyes, squinting at him lightly before whispering, almost too quietly, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”
A tired Y/n, Lando knew, warranted clinginess. That was her usual way of remedying exhaustion, curling up in his arms wherever he was and partaking in a Power Nap. Although, there was none of that as she walked out of the kitchen, turning a corner and disappearing behind their bedroom door.
Third sign; shutting Lando out, the one he hated the most.
He scrolled through his phone for a minute more, not wanting her to know he had already realized her turmoil. He wanted her to believe that his comfort was not out of pity, but love.
When the clock reached an even number, he got up from his seated position and pattered over to their door, knocking lightly.
“Y/n? Can I come in?” He said, though there was no response. He creaked the door open, seeing her frame turned away from him as it laid on their bed, her phone illuminating the room.
Because of the darkness and the only light coming from her phone, he could easily see what she was looking at. It was as clear as day and the reason for her distance, however painful, became apparent.
A twitter thread of why Luisa was better for Lando than Y/n.
It broke his heart.
He stood for a moment, taking in the scene before him and breathing deeply, and deciding his plan of action. It only took him a few seconds, although, he knew exactly what he wanted to say to her.
Lando approached her side of the bed and when his footsteps reached the ears of his beloved, she turned her phone off quickly. He kneeled down beside her, dried tears on her cheeks not going unnoticed by him. His hand cradled the side of her face that wasn’t pushed into her pillow and he kissed her forehead.
“Baby, I saw what you were looking at.” He whispered into the quiet. His green eyes bore into hers as she willed the knot in her throat to dissipate.
Lando gently took her phone from her hands, sliding it off the bed and setting it on the night stand next to him. He nudged her shoulder, signaling for her to move over so he could squeeze into her side of their massive bed. When he laid down, his arms wrapped tightly around her frame, squeezing the skin and warming it as she nuzzled her head into his chest.
“Why are you doing this to yourself? You know they’re wrong.” He tried.
Y/n pulled away from his chest, looking up at him and using her voice, albeit wobbly, “Do I know they’re wrong? Lan, you mean so much to so many people in this world, people you don’t even know the names of.”
He nodded, “Okay, yes, what does that have to do with this?”
She sniffled, “There are so many other women that could compliment you better. Women that people know the name of. Women that have made their mark on this world just like you have. I will never be able to be what you need me to be.”
Lando shook his head, her words outrageous in his mind because she was already everything he needed, just as she was.
“Y/n, what? What are you even saying? That’s crazy. You mean everything to me. I don’t want anyone else. I don’t care about anyone else, anything else. You compliment my life and my happiness perfectly. That’s all that matters.”
Wetness formed beneath her eyes once more and began to fall freely as she toyed with the hem of his shirt, “What if you wake up one day and realize that Luisa is better suited for the life you lead? What if one day you wake up and I am no longer good enough for you?”
Lando gaped at her, truly at a loss for words. In his mind, everything she was saying was so incredibly wrong, she couldn’t be farther from the truth. However, from the sadden look in her eyes, he could tell that she fully believed the things flying from her mouth. That idea, the thought that she was scared one day he would no longer cherish her in the way he does now, made him all the more determined to remind how much she matters to him and how that will never change.
“Y/n, stop. Listen to yourself. Have I ever made you feel inadequate?” He questioned, staring at her fiercely as if what she was saying made him defensive. It did in a way. He was defensive of the love he had for her, taking shame in the fact that he had made her feel as though their relationship would end.
She shook her head as he brought his fingers up to wipe at the tears still falling down her skin, “No, but-”
He brought his pointer finger to her lips, “No buts, Y/n. Listen to me when I tell you this. You have been and always be more than enough for me. You are the start and end of my day, and that is something I never want to change. Being scared that one day I’ll wake up and magically have fallen out of love with you is absolutely fucking clinically insane. It’s been two years we’ve been together, Y/n, and I still badger you at the end of the day, asking what you had done because I love to hear your voice. I love your rambles and I love the way you love me. There’s nothing that’s going to make me want to stop loving you because there’s really no going back. I’m in this with you and I always will be. You need to believe that. Believe me when I say the only way we will end is lying next to each other on our death beds with rings on our left fingers from our wedding decades ago.”
“That’s kind of morbid.” She whispered, a small smile gracing her features as his words sunk beneath her skin.
He chucked and leaned further into her, “It’s true. There will come a time where I get on one knee in front of you and beg you to be with me for the rest of our lives. There will come a time where I will stand in front of all of our friends and family, and declare my love for you and certainty over marrying you. I know these things will happen because I am interchangeably in love with you. And I know you are with me too. So, just leave social media be, baby. Stay here in this moment with me, push all those disgusting fans away and listen to my words. I love you,” He shook her head lightly in his hands as he spoke, “You are worthy of my love and love in general, and there will never come a singular moment where even the thought of leaving you passes my brain. We are it for each other, love. This is it for me.”
Her body relaxed fully into his arms and further into the bed as they stared at each other. Y/n giggled at his words and he smiled down at her, still holding her face whilst lightly rubbing excess tears in her soft skin.
A silence passed before Y/n mumbled, “I think I’m going to delete my social media platforms for a while. Take some time off and get back on track.”
Warmth swelled in Lando’s chest, threatening to spill out from his mouth at overwhelming amounts of it within his body.
“I’m so proud of you, love.” He whispered, leaning in to kiss her softly. He pecked her lips lovingly, sweet nothings spilling from his mouth in the form of the warmth that had been drowning him.
They stayed that way for a few hours, both falling in out of sleep in the arms of the other. And when crickets chirped and the clock read an ungodly time, Lando pulled Y/n from bed, into their bathroom, where he showed her how much he loved her. A bath, some face masks, and low music that he made her dance with him along to, all worked as ways for him to tangibly exude the feelings he had for her. No longer were the ex’s of his past, no longer were jealous fans, no longer were thoughts of unworthiness.
Just him, her, and the love that would never die out.
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fufuheheii · 2 years
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Cyno’s Ultimate Guide to Wooing You (tips from Tighnari)
Edit: Cyno x female!reader
You and Cyno have been friends for a very long time.
That’s why the boy never expected that he would develop feelings out of nowhere, especially not right when you smash an  Ajilenakh nut with his pole arm in anger.
He could have sworn his heart went doki doki along with the broken nut.
“You have got to be kidding me,” was all Tighnari could say when Cyno approached him on the very same day with the biggest blush ever.
“She was glowing Tighnari,” Cyno furrowed his eyebrows as he looked off into the distance. “The Love Archon have placed a curse on me-“ “there is no love archon you lummox.”
After a long ass debate and Cyno listing down pros and cons of liking you, the fennec boy decided this topic went on long enough and decided to just throw some suggestions.
“Why not just ask her out on a date? Woo her with something. If I recall, Y/N said she liked charcoal cake.”
And that’s how The Guide to Wooing You (Ft. Tighnari) book was created.
First Operation: date
Now, you and Cyno have been friends for a very long time, meaning you’ve done much activities together.
When Cyno asked you out, you took it as an average hangout and the day turned into a whole TCG war. 
Cyno has no idea how you guys ended up in Port Ormos, both of your decks out with his strongest cards in his hand. People surround you two, all in awe at the amazing strategic display in front of them. No, to say he is confused is an understatement.
“Wait Y/N-“ “No I’m not falling for that again Cyno.” “No, we weren't supposed to be playing.” “Wow I can’t believe you just threw that card out, how am I supposed to win that?” “Wait that was unintentional-“
He never got to confess. But at least he won the game.
Second Operation: food
On the day he was free he barged into the Sumeru tavern, causing a few scholar to run out screaming as he approached the counter with menacing aura. 
“One charcoal cake. Do you have a pink ribbon? Wrap it with a pink ribbon. Maybe add a heart on the cake if possible. Write the name ‘Y/N’ on it. I expect no word comes out about me here.”
When you see it, you roar with laughter. “Bruh, this is the funniest thing you pulled so far!”
Tighnari gets no sleep that night as Cyno comes into his room and murmurs by himself in the corner, confused as to what exactly is he doing wrong.
Third Operation: physical contact
Cyno wipes his hand on his shorts for the 15th time as he awaits for you at Gandarvha Ville. Today was the day of his next operation: hand holding.
Cyno wasn’t the type to force any physical contact, unless it’s to punish all evil wrongdoing. But today he was going to go the opposite way. 
He will brush his hand against yours, and if you don’t move away he will then proceed to look into your eyes as a sign of love affirmation. You will be struck by his determination and then he will move to intertwine his fingers with yours. And then he will confess. 
“Hey Cyno! You’re here early,” you appear in your goddess glory, your smile so dazzling the Mahamatra has to block it out with his hand. 
“What a sight to behold.” “Did you say something?”
When you two walked together, people were clearing the path. You figured it was because of Cyno’s title, but in reality it was because of his red shot eyes that was glaring at your hand. 
Above you both is Tighnari using his binoculars to watch you both. He mutters curses specially at the Matra, and Cyno could’ve sworn he felt chills go down his spine for no reason. 
Do it now you imbecile! Touch her hand! What in the archons are you doing? 
Cyno’s heart was thumping so fast he thought you could hear it. He swallowed as he stared at your hand, the delicate fingers that was tempting him to lic-hold it. 
“Cyno?” He snapped his attention to your worried face. He inhaled when you step so close to him that your faces were mere inches away. 
Tighnari gasped. Are you guys kissing? Why the hell are you guys kissing first?
“Are you okay? You look really stressed,” Your eyebrows furrow together, your cheeks pouting out so slightly. 
Your magnificent breath tickled his face, your doe eyes peering into his wide dilated ones. He could smell the faint chicken wings you ate earlier on your body. He could see your collar bones just saying hello to him. Your hair tickle his face as well as his bangs to yours. He looks back up to your eyes and he finally utters his response.
“Stressed? More like I’m a damsel in distress.”
Tighnari to this day doesn’t know how that was a joke to Cyno.
Operation four: Just confess
“Now we all know you have this natural instinct of throwing in a stupid joke out of nowhere,” Tighnari covers Cyno’s mouth before he could retort. “Now imagine I am Y/N. Show me how you’re going to confess to me.”
“No what the f-” “Do you really want to ruin the biggest operation with another joke?” “…”
Cyno sighs and the two boys sit facing each other. Tighnari crosses his arms and mimics your voice in a ridiculously high tone, “Hey Cyno! What’s up?” 
“Hey Y/N, um…there’s something I’ve always wanted to tell you,” Cyno inhales, trying to pretend the boy in front of him was his favorite girl. He smiles when his decent looking friend’s face morphs into your beautiful features. “We’ve been friends for so long and I know it’s definitely hard to believe but…I really like you. To me, you’re the most beautiful star in the desert night, the star that guides me to my destination. Will you be mine?”
“Wow Cyno I’m so happy!” Tighnari sings happily with a horrifying giggle. “See, that wasn’t so bad-”
 A big thud silences them all.
The two boys slowly look to the side in horror as both you and Collei stand at the doorway stunned. Collie’s basket is on the floor, and an apple rolls to Cynos’ foot. 
“I always knew master and Cyno had something!” Collei runs out the door, covering her face in glee as her OTP has finally come true.
Cyno’s face pales as you blink at him and then at Tighnari and then back to him. Then you turn away quickly before they can hear you snort with laughter. 
General Mahamatra and General Watchleader weren’t seen for a few days, but there were rumors circulating that the WatchLeader was trying to kill the Mahamatra. 
Final operation: Cyno
“Just be yourself Cyno,” Tigh’s words repeat in the boy’s mind. “What do you think will get your feelings across as Cyno? Think about it, and then face Y/N when you’re ready.”
Truth to be told, Cyno has never been open about his own feelings to anyone before. Sure, he told his best (and only) friend that he likes you, sure he beat up sinners to express his irritation of them forcing him out into the desert for three days just to bring them back, but it’s different with you. 
He enjoyed all the times he’s had with you, all the moments where you and him argued about who won, the moments where you fed him food when he was loaded with work, the moments when you smiled at him when he would come to see you...he treasured every single second.
He was scared that if you did not return his feelings, your friendship would be broken. You meant that much to him.
But he knew if this one-sided feeling went on much longer he will go crazy and full of hope. He can decide how to proceed with his feelings once he gets an answer from you.
You finally appear. You look around the rather grassy area, before looking up at the night sky full of stars.
Cyno watches with adoration as your eyes light up at the sky. It must be the same look he has when he’s with you. 
He silently approaches you with a familiar book in his hand, and you finally see him.
He hands you the book and you blink at it curiously before you open the book and read the contents.
He slowly smiles as a blush spread across your cheeks as you read over each operation listed down and the attempts the poor boy made to gain your affection.
“How did I miss all this?” You whisper, bringing the back of your hand to your face as your ears burn. “Cyno I...”
He places a hand on your arm and comes forward. His eyes are so full of desperation you can already hear what’s he going to say. 
“I’m not supposed to be…having these feelings as a Matra. It’ll only get in the way, but...I do have feelings for you Y/N. I enjoy my time with you, I enjoy eating with you. I enjoy fighting with you. I like you. I am in love with you. Will you be the padisarah to my Duel Soul recipe?”
A few days later rumors go around that the General Mahamatra has been stalking a certain girl and the girl is a criminal waiting to be caught in the act. 
It’s only a few days later (again) that there is confirmation that the girl is actually the General Mahamatra’s beloved girlfriend.
Omg this was so bad but so funny at the same time aghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Sorry if this seemed so rushed, but it came to me in the middle of the night, and I had to write it all down! Hope you guys enjoyed it! :,)
Edit: whoa thanks for the love guys! Can’t believe this got so much attention, I’m happy I managed to give some laughs!
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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months
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God, I love the Cave Boy series. Will the batfam manage to find him after he dips. Will they ever find out about his powers. So many questions
Danny stays underground for days.
He doesn't know the exact time frame because he only goes to the surface to grab supplies. He makes sure to only fully emerge when there is no light out.
It was a bigger risk to be caught by the Waynes, who only operated in the dark, but it ensured fewer eyewitnesses were around. Danny Kane was still a very hot celebrity for taking down the Joker- he would be surrounded by a mob of fans if he walked down the street.
He moved his ship into a deeper cave by phasing the large metal and all his equipment through solid rock, which was not easy. It was a miracle he found a little pocket to set up shop.
Danny thinks the little pocket- surrounded by stone with no opening at all, was formed after a cave-in at one point. It was large enough to work on his ship and had just enough space to set up a sleeping bag and a tent for rest.
He rarely uses that space nowadays.
Danny had stolen from a camping store- taking with him an entire box of lanterns that he placed strategically around his space. They threw light to the large four walls of stone- making him feel trapped inside a midevil dungeon, and somehow, it also made him think incredulity alone.
That was the worst part of this whole change of scenery. He doesn't want to admit it, but he got used to Wayne Manor and the colorful characters there.
He hadn't even done anything besides lay around but he missed the sound of people. Even before Bruce had found him, Danny would see people often as he wandered around gathering a sense of the city.
Now, he was genuinely suffocating alone. He didn't feel the loss often, but there were times when it felt like being hit by a truck.
It's when his own ice powers reach into his bones, causing his teeth to clatter and curl up into a smaller ball on the cave ground, that Danny misses the Manor the most. He stole food from the stores- but without any way to cook or heat it up, it's limited to the packed food.
Sometimes, while eating packs of dried fruit, he thinks longingly of Alfred's warm meals. Then he remembers how they looked at him when his lies got so out of hand that they believed Bruce's parents lived in his world and he could suppress the longing to return.
Danny has made leaps and bounds on building his ship since he no longer pretends to be Brucie. He no longer filled the hours with nonsense, only being awake to work or stealing what he needed to continue working.
Unlike before, Danny had developed a tunnel version of finishing his project. He no longer wanted to give himself time to ensure everything was fine.
He just wanted to go home.
He's gotten better at wielding using his own ghost laser, and now his ship had its full body. It was missing seats, a window, and even a steering program that actually turned when he wanted- but he was getting closer and closer every day.
All the small technology pieces he stole from the Waynes were on one side- ripped apart for the needed parts. He would spend hours carefully opening everything to check what he could use and what he could melt down to repurpose.
Danny carefully pulls out some small wires from the electric candle he took from the Wayne Dinner table when his vision blurs. He takes a moment to blink rapidly, trying to let the sudden burst of lightheadedness pass him.
Sadly, it was only a few seconds before he crumbled to the hard ground. He gasps, the cold coming back tenfold, and he can do nothing but lay there and pray the pain passes.
Danny hadn't felt this weak since his ice core first developed. Even the first Ghostly Wail hadn't made his limbs feel this heavy.
He knows he has been pushing himself too far lately- barely eating or sleeping- but Danny can't risk any wasted second. He saw the resources the Bats have.
It was only a matter of time before they found him- even if they would need to drill through the solid stone for hours to reach him- and he didn't want to face them after the guilt of lying to them was slowly eating him alive.
He had kept the Wayne at arm's length the entire time, living under the pretense of being Bruce Wayne's counterpart. He told himself he wanted nothing to do with their nightly battle against evil- and he didn't!- and that he could care less if they treated him as family.
He took everything they gave him without hesitation, telling himself they were fools for letting anyone in and stealing from them. Danny thought it would not matter as he would finish his ship and be flying home long before they realized he wasn't Bruce.
Until they stop treating him so warmly after killing the Joker. Danny wasn't sorry about it, but suddenly, he was a stranger in a crowd to them.
Danny had no right to be upset. He lied. He didn't want to be Brucie to them and had actively made Tim look bad by being as Unproactive as possible, going along with changed narratives of his world.
Danny had used the Waynes.
Yes, he did so, believing they were a cult or an evil madman, but he learned that wasn't the case early on. He could have ended the lie at any moment, but he didn't because he figured it would be harmless.
Then he realized that Bruce's parents were killed in front of him- the story wasn't hard to find when he actually bothered to look into the Waynes at a local high school library after hours.
Not only did he find the horrific story, but he found out that almost all the Waynes had a tragic story. Dick's parents were murdered in an accident that wasn't an accident at all.
Tim's parents were killed by a madman with boomerangs. Jason's father died in prison, and his mother overdosed before Bruce took him in. Duke's parents were patients with no working mind because of the Joker (Danny should have made his death last longer).
The only ones that didn't seem to be Cass and Damian, but he knew it was likely due to Bruce not wanting the public to learn that they came from abusive households- he figured that much out by their reactions.
Even Alfred had a history of PTSD from his time in the army. There was an article about a scandal when Bruce had actually been a child- apparently, someone had thought to release firecrackers under the servant's table, and Alfred had panicked. People had mocked him about it for months.
Everyone had a reason to be a villain, yet they all had opened their home to him and been nothing but kind. They were good, and they treated him like family.
Danny felt sick with himself, for being so self-centered he never bothered to really get to know them. And now he never could.
A few tears rolled down his face as his vision started to blur out more and more.
No use crying over it now, Fenton. Though the haze of exhaustion doesn't let him get up from the floor, he thinks bitterly.
He'll rest for a little bit, then get back to work. Only for a few minutes/
Danny doesn't notice his body has shifted in his Ghist side, slowly redirecting his energy to his core, so that his healing could help overcome the unknown days.
He is not aware his heartbeat stops at the same time.
_____________________________________________________________
"I can't hear him anymore!" A young boy screams, pressing his ear against a stone. Horror clouds his voice as he turns to stare at another boy. "His heartbeat....it's not...."
"We must make haste! Breakthrough now!" The other boy snaps.
"But that might cause the cave to fall on top of him." The other rubs his hands together nervously. "I think we may be too late to save-"
"Every second we waste is a second that Brucie gets closer to death!" His company growls savagely, though the tears in his eyes make him less scary. "We have to at least bring his body home- we-I can't- he needs to be buried properly."
Not even a second passed before the other boy threw his shoulders back, yanking out his phone and pressing a speed dial two.
His father picks up two rings. "Jon?"
"Dad! We found Brucie! He was stuck in a cave underneath the tunnels leading to Gotham Cemetry. Can you come help me get him out?"
"I'll be right there."
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magiccath · 4 months
Text
Psychic paper
tenth doctor x GN!reader
Summary: In which the psychic paper betrays the Doctor
A/N: The Doctor is fruity, deal with it xx
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You’d been traveling with the Doctor for a while now and you loved every minute of it. In that time he had shown you all kinds of things you had priorly deemed impossible; aliens with wiggly tentacles, a spaceship that defies the laws of 3 dimensional space, a buzzing device he calls the Sonic Screwdriver, and homicidal salt shakers with toilet plungers for arms to name just a few. 
It seemed that with every adventure he showed you something new and fascinating, constantly topping himself without even trying. There was so much in all of time and space it wasn’t that hard. Anything outside of the 21st century was new to you. 
This time, the Doctor had taken you to see a mechanics factory in the 35th century, but as always the adventure didn’t end there. Aside from new experiences, the Doctor could almost always promise some kind of trouble. He claimed he didn’t go searching for it but rather that it tended to follow him. Either way, most adventures with the Doctor involved some kind of mischief and usually a lot of running.
“It’s no good, you can only get in with an ID,” you groaned, popping your head back around the corner. “There’s a security guard checking everyone going in and out is an employee.” 
You were hiding in a hallway, hoping to get inside the establishment's headquarters. The Doctor had a hunch that malicious alien forces were behind the operation, but he couldn’t be sure without poking around further. Typical Doctor, he just couldn’t leave well enough alone.
“I can’t think of any legal ways to get in there,” you shrugged, turning to the Doctor for ideas. 
“I have identification,” the Doctor smirked, rummaging around in the seemingly endless pockets of his coat. 
“You’re not an employee,” you pointed out. 
The Doctor made a triumphant sound as he pulled what appeared to be a small black notebook out of the depths of his pocket. He flipped it open and you realized it wasn’t a notepad. The item was more like a police badge, minus the actual badge part.
He turned the paper towards you with a smile, clearly expecting you to be impressed 
“Aren’t I?” He grinned brightly, looking at you eagerly. “Psychic paper,” he explained, tapping the stark white paper with his finger.
You grabbed the item from him, squinting at it. You wanted to make sure you were reading it right, maybe your eyes were acting up. 
“This just says ‘I love you’?” You asked, handing the Doctor his weird paper back with a frown. 
“I think that flirting with the security guard is more of a Jack move,” you winced, not wanting to hurt his feelings. The Doctor was quite the charmer, but strategic flirting wasn’t his strong suit.
The Doctor grabbed his psychic paper from you, frowning at it aggressively. It wasn’t supposed to say that. 
“What-?” he asked, glaring at it the same way you did. Once the words registered with him he turned a dark shade of red. He should have been more careful when he handed it over to you.
“It’s not supposed to say that,” he mumbled his thoughts, trying to hide his fluster. 
“How does it work? Is it like a reusable notepad?” You asked, genuinely interested. Even if the Doctor’s tools could be finicky, they were interesting. Maybe he had just forgotten to erase the message from the last time he used it. 
“No, it’s supposed to show the reader what I want them to see,” he blushed, shaking the paper out like a Polaroid. Usually shaking the item would clear it, but those three words refused to fade from the paper. 
“Sometimes it’s a bit slow…” he said, really more to himself than to you. He was still shaking the paper, desperately trying to get the words to disappear. 
“So you were going to try and flirt with the security guard?” You frowned, now you were even more confused. The Doctor would much rather blow the whole place up than try and flirt his way through security. 
“No!” He said, almost a bit too quickly. He blushed again and averted his gaze, an anxious hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. He hadn’t planned on telling you like this. He hadn’t planned on telling you at all.
“When I handed it over it was supposed to show you an employee ID,” he winced. You nodded, this much you knew. What you didn’t understand was the confession of love. 
“But I think the psychic paper picked up on my feelings instead,” he whispered. If you hadn’t been listening intently you might have missed the last few words. 
“Are you saying that you love me?” You frowned, looking at the floor with concentration, “or the security guard?” The second option seemed more viable at the moment.
For the first time in a century, the Doctor was speechless. He stared at you, wide-eyed and unblinking as you waited for his answer. If it was possible, his jaw might have fallen to the floor.
“He’s pretty handsome, I can’t blame you,” you added, peeking over the wall to look at the security guard again.
The Doctor shook himself out of it, rambling a string of incoherent words. “I- uh, wha-?” He stumbled, trying to form a sentence.
“I handed the paper to you.” He said definitively.
“It’s a really dramatic way to come out, Doctor.” You continued on, ignoring him. It’s not like you didn’t know already, he wasn’t exactly subtle about it.
“It didn’t say ‘I love men’!” He threw his hands up in distress. “It said ‘I love you’!”
You finally stopped rambling on about the security guard and turned your attention to the Doctor. His words caught up to you and tentatively you pointed at yourself as if there was any other you. The Doctor nodded exasperatedly as if to say “Yes, you!”
“You love me?” you asked, still pointing at yourself. 
“I think I’ve said it about four times now.” 
“You?” You pointed at the Doctor, “Love me?” 
“Blimey! Yes!” He shouted, frustrated now. You widened your eyes and anxiously checked around you, scared he might have given away your location. Thankfully, everyone appeared to be out of earshot. 
“Yes, I love you,” he whispered this time, his eyes boring into yours. You blinked slowly, your brain still refusing to process his confession. 
You smiled brightly, your grin taking over your entire face. The Doctor loved it when you lit up like this, your happiness radiating off of you. He felt a small smile of his own tugging at his lips just looking at you. 
“I hope that’s alright,” he whispered quietly. He would never forgive himself if he lost you over a psychic paper mishap. The embarrassment would be too much - he’d have to run away. Maybe to that planet inhabited by only rubber ducks? 
“That’s more than alright,” you grinned, a hand instinctively reaching up to his arm to comfort him. The fabric of his coat was cold against your palm, but you didn’t pull away.
The Doctor really smiled back at you now, the wild lopsided grin that was reserved just for you. The kind of smile that always made you laugh with joy. 
He wasted no time wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting your body off the ground in excitement. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your familiar scent. You laughed happily, waving your feet about slightly. 
The Doctor pulled back just enough to kiss you, his lips soft and gentle against yours. Neither of you could stop smiling, even as your lips met. You laughed against him, planting kisses across his face sloppily. Your lips brushed the tip of his nose, the arch of his cheekbone, the corner of his mouth, and his jawline.
“The security guard is pretty cute though,” the Doctor teased with a sly smile. 
“I knew it!” You burst out laughing, throwing your head back as you did.
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sayruq · 6 months
Text
Biden's visit has concluded. Israel has spent his entire visit trying to muddy the waters of what happened to Al Ahli Hospital and despite their cartoonish efforts, it hasn't worked
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The Global South and especially West Asia know who is responsible for the bombing and no amount of AI voice recordings of 'Hamas operatives' can change that.
Israel war crimes continues to backfire on them even in America
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Biden backing Israel has had an impact on America's image. Here's a Wall Street Journal article warning that America's continued support is turning countries towards Russia and China which is code for turning countries against America
An EU official said that the EU will pay a heavy price in the Global South for its continued, unabashed support for Israel
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There's also speculation that the Biden administration knew about the bombing before it happened.
Countries that were/are allied with Israel continue to distance themselves from Israel like Russia. The reason I keep highlighting Russia is because the West has been running out of ammunition due to the Russia-Ukraine war and that includes Israel which is rumoured to have sent 80-90% of its ammunition to Ukraine. If this conflict lasts a long time, Israel will need to buy weapons and ammunition and Russia would be one of the countries they would turn to (same with China)
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So, where are we in terms of the conflict? After days of waffling over a ground operation in Gaza, Israel postponed it until some time after Biden's visit and now we're back here again
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Now I'm no military expert but constantly going back and forth on whether or not you'll invade Gaza is bound to do damage to your troops' morale. No wonder they're dealing with mass desertions while their citizens demonstrate on the streets. The Israeli leadership has no plan besides bombing Gaza.
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I've seen people on twitter say that the hospital bombing was done deliberately to normalise IDF soldiers to mass civilian deaths in places like hospitals, schools, places of worship, etc. I don't know if I believe that - I think they wanted to push Iran and Hezbollah's buttons before hiding behind Biden. I don't think these people are thinking strategically.
As far as the possibility of regional war is concerned, all indicators show that the West preparing for the war to escalate
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Seems to me the Israel has seen what Ukraine has received in just a year and a half of war. They're done receiving a paltry 3.8 billion every year and now prepared to drag out the conflict and I can't say I blame with Biden proposing a 100 billion package for both Ukraine and Israel. This will stretch America too thin as far as funding in concerned. Cracks are already showing
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There are parts of the US government that is unhappy that the Ukraine war is losing attention. During the Ukraine war, you had parts of the government that wanted focus to shift from Russia to China. Because of that, the US government has spent the past year alternating between hostility to Russia and threatening to go to war with China over Taiwan. When Niger expelled France from within its borders, America was preparing to join that conflict until Mali and Burkina Faso declared they would fight with Niger. Now they're entering a third front in West Asia. In short, the mighty empire is expending a lot of resources right now and it is not the threat it was when it invaded Iraq and Afghanistan in the early 2000s.
At any rate, the ground invasion of Gaza won't go the way Israel and America hopes it will
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The coalition of Palestinian resistance fighters are still patiently waiting for the IDF to come meet them. Their allies aren't backing down either
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The reason I keep making these posts is to remind people that, while the genocide of the people of Gaza is horrifying, the war for the liberation of Palestine has not yet been lost.
Do not lose hope. From the river to sea, Palestine WILL be free
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comradekatara · 2 months
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I’m curious if you have any thoughts about Ty Lee and Mai re: their reasons for and willingness to follow Azula during the course of the show? Their introductions — with Ty Lee initially reluctant and joining out of fear, whereas Mai was all in the moment she showed up in Omashu — contrasted with their endings — Mai growing resentful and eventually betraying Azula, and Ty Lee staying close to her right up to the moment she spots an opening — are so fascinating and emblemic of their characters
yes, exactly. ty lee has to be coerced whereas mai doesn't need to be told twice. more specifically, ty lee had the initiative to run away at some point (it's also far easier to leave your home when you have six identical sisters) and has settled in an environment that she actually enjoys, whereas mai is trapped with her family and takes up azula's offer specifically as a means of escape. that doesn't mean she particularly enjoys the prospect of hunting down the boy she used to like, but she gets to see the world and use her knife skills and hang out with her besties. it's not perfect, but it's still a far better deal than being stuck under the thumb of her controlling mother and scheming father in a foreign city that is essentially a ghost town (now that its entire native population is literally living underground). mai doesn't like being bossed around by azula – or being bossed around by anyone, for that matter – but she knows better than to question the commands of her princess, so she sticks to side-eyeing her as she complies, and only ever denying her requests when azula is too far away to notice ("she can shoot all the lightning at me she wants, i am not going in that wall sludge juice." "just take the bear." etc etc).
ty lee, however, doesn't just comply with azula's commands, she comports herself into the very image of obedience, she forces herself to embody exactly what it is azula wants in a loyal servant, but also in a best friend, and in a beautiful girl. because, like, the thing about mai is that she is really very normal. she uses apathy and sarcasm to mask her true emotions, whether they be fear, rage, or a combination thereof, but she's also quite sincere and blunt and kind. mai adapts to her environment in the sense that she knows to comply with the demands of her family and azula, she knows how to play the part of fire nation noblewoman, but she's not closed off from her feelings, she just presents that way. ty lee, however, is a complete and utter chameleon, to the point that she's somehow the one who seems more sincere out of the pair, even though nary an honest word comes out of her mouth throughout the entire show.
mai expresses her disagreements with azula when she knows that the moment allows for it, and she expresses her irritation, her vulnerability (to an extent), and her emotions when she can. but even when ty lee could choose to be honest, it's like she doesn't actually know how. the most honest ty lee ever actually gets before her betrayal is when she insults mai's makeup, and she's still putting mai down in azula's presence as to establish a hierarchy of affection. even when she's lovingly teasing mai by demonstrating how their friendship is genuine enough that she can insult her instead of vapidly praising her like she does with all those shallow, stupid boys and a certain princess, she's still strategically positioning herself in azula's favor. she operates in a coded language, simultaneously communicating to mai the sincerity of her affection and communicating to azula that they are in fact a pair, teaming up to put down and bully mai as they have been doing since they were children. in the beautiful words of shiv roy, ty lee has never eaten a grapefruit without an agenda.
even though ty lee does seem more loyal to azula despite having to be coerced into joining her, whereas mai seemingly agrees immediately, ty lee is an acrobat and a circus performer; contorting herself to suit the needs of others and appear a certain way to certain people is literally her wheelhouse. whereas mai is a thoughtful yet impulsive, apathetic yet sincere teenage girl. and the cracks in mai's agreeability begin to show as early as in her introductory episode, when azula decides to sacrifice tom-tom to keep bumi, and mai has no choice but to comply with her princess despite obviously wanting to save her baby brother.
mai's loyalty was always on a razor's edge; it was never an ideal situation for her, she just never found a better option. mai lived her whole life in an extremely stifling gilded cage, and she craves enrichment in her enclosure. but then she sees potential beyond the bars, as demonstrated by zuko, and she takes a stand for something she believes in. ty lee doesn't do that, because ty lee does not truly have beliefs beyond her own immediate survival. you can say she values entertainment, laughter, violence that doesn't kill, but i think she'd become anything the world demanded of her without a moment's hesitation. and in this moment, the world demands that she choose. choose between the girl she loved to put down and ostracize within their little trio so as to better curry azula's favor, or the girl who threatened to burn her alive if she did not comply with her every demand. and it should be so obvious, shouldn't it? of course ty lee would choose mai over azula, it's so clear in hindsight. but it shocks azula, and it shocks mai, and it even sort of shocks ty lee herself. because she has done such a good job of hiding her personhood so far beneath her facade that even mai, the one person she cares about more than her own survival, doesn't actually know it.
"anything to get me out of this place," is mai's response to azula's offer. mai was always looking for a better situation, striving for the best possible scenario within a very limited array of options. but ty lee knows what she wants, and she knows she cannot have it, and so she denies herself. denies her own agency, her affections, her desires, her personality, her intelligence, her values. she would do anything to survive, even if it means killing every single true part of herself. mai's betrayal against azula is decidedly a declaration of love, not only for zuko, but also for herself. but ty lee's betrayal is the greatest declaration of love there is. her willingness to throw away her so deliberately, carefully cultivated, precarious security and safety for the sake of someone who doesn't even know that ty lee loves her is such a resounding confession that it actually shocks mai into perfect stillness. mai, who is always so quick to act and react, frozen to the floor by the cosmic weight of this revelation, this paradigm shift. mai had always assumed that she was the discarded, neglected, bullied friend of the trio, the one who would always be second best to azula (and keep in mind ty lee never actually says that azula had to coerce her into joining, she simply says "azula called a little louder," because she is always making mai read between the lines). but here, ty lee proves that there is one she values over her own life and everything she has done to keep it, and it is mai.
"why?" asks azula. "why would you do it? you knew the consequences." i think that mai would gladly throw her worthless life away if it meant dying for something real, something true within a world of masks and lies and manipulations. she knows the consequences, but they no longer matter, now that she has sight of something that she truly, actually cares about. but ty lee is different. ty lee excels in the world of masks, lies, and manipulations, thrives in it to the point that azula, so-called "people person," doesn't even realize that the girl she loves is nothing more than a carefully cultivated phantasm. ty lee truly cares, far more than mai, about the consequences. and yet, when it comes down to it, when she weighs all her options, she not only hurts azula to save mai, but she stays by mai's side through it all. the girl who could effortlessly subdue every guard holding her in place and jump up onto the gondola cord and run across its length to the other side of the volcano within minutes stays next to mai with no resistance, merely sheds her mask to finally glare at azula with her true face. so it is not entirely accurate to say that ty lee's values are conditional and fabricated. there is, in fact, one thing ty lee values above all else, but only when it is true.
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jmdbjk · 1 month
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White Bear Artillery Brigade.
I'm not here to share anything earth shattering or reveal new information. I'm just going to elaborate on what I know and how I see it. Feel free to form your own opinions.
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Ok so, from everything I know, this is how I'm understanding it (long ramble)...
Republic of Korea (ROK) Armed Forces is one of the largest and most powerful standing armed forces in the world. At any given time, it consists of about 600,000 active duty soldiers and approximately 3 million reservists.
Soldiers are automatically transferred to the Reserve Forces upon discharge from their initial active duty service and serve four years in the Mobilization Reserve followed by four years as a Homeland Reservist. No one ever talks about this. They are not "free" following their active duty service. They are still considered reservists.
Jimin and Jungkook are in the White Bear Artillery Brigade of the 5th Infantry Division of the Republic of Korea Army (ROKA).
ROKA itself, the Army, is the largest of the military branches. The other ROK military branches are ROK Navy and ROK Air Force. The ROK Marines are part of their Navy forces.
It might be difficult to fathom the scope and size of ROKA. Here is an outline of the structure. You will need to scroll down a ways to see where the 5th Infantry Division falls. It is under Army Ground Operations and then under V Corps (Corps 5).
The White Bear Brigade consists of the: 195th, 196th, 205th and 988th Field Artillery Battalions. The 196th is also called YELLOW DRAGON.
I do not know which Field Artillery Battalion Jimin and Jungkook are assigned to.
Each of these Field Artillery Battalions are scattered in different locations but tied to the 5th Infantry Division. The 5th Infantry Division's top general controls these Field Artillery Battalions.
And the term "field" only means they are not located at the training base where Jin is.
It means they are out in the "field" in another remote, secluded strategic location, away from the main base, where if necessary, they and their artillery, can be deployed efficiently and rapidly should this action be required.
They don't see Jin any more. He is at a separate location.
The front line between South Korea and North Korea is lined with hills and low-lying mountains, they will be nestled up in there somewhere.
"Field" does not mean they are living in the middle of a farm field in tents, cooking food over campfires. It means they are at a base somewhere in the hills and mountains. This base will hold lots of other soldiers, though not as many soldiers as there are at the original training base where Jin is because that's sort of a hub where they deploy the newly trained soldiers from.
Simple terms: Jimin and Jungkook are out there in the middle of nowhere near the front lines at a base where they take care of weaponry like tanks and the ammo for tanks in case they have to quickly respond to an attack. Heaven forbid.
Anyway. How many ways can I explain that? Obvs a bunch.
Military jobs.
There are probably dozens of jobs that an Army base like theirs requires.
Cooking food to feed all the soldiers is one of those jobs. Cleaning the kitchen after cooking is part of that job. There were rumors since January that Jungkook was a kitchen worker. Those in the K-military call it Kitchen Police. And then JK just said he is cooking rice and cleaning up to the ceiling so that pretty much confirms he is indeed a Kitchen Police.
In the context of him being enlisted in the military and him coming to tell us he is doing good in the military, he is telling us he cooks rice and cleans up afterward.
He didn't mean he sometimes randomly cooks rice in his room. Nor did he mean he made himself a snack. It doesn't mean he also has a second job of cleaning. Everything he does will be associated with the Kitchen Police.
Their days are very regimented and structured. He will be one soldier on a team of soldiers tasked with creating enough food 3 times a day to feed the entire base. It is a full time job.
The rumor for Jimin is that he might be in a role that involves maintenance. Maintenance of what? We don't know. But what we know about Jimin is that he was on the robotics team in school, he has leadership skills, and he made a bunch of LEGO kits and a miniature house model in front of us during several weverse lives. Is he putting together computers? Is he reassembling machinery? We don't know.
The Companion Enlistment Program.
The buddy system was created in 2003 in order to foster better outcomes and psychologically stronger soldiers. It allows those who choose to enlist under this program to be with someone who they can gain this support from throughout their enlistment. That's the whole point. To be together during their enlistment.
The age range is dynamic. Every year this range progresses one year.
For 2023, the age range for this program were those born between Jan. 1, 1995 and Dec. 31, 2005. For 2024, the age range will be those born between Jan. 1, 1996 and Dec. 31, 2006. And so on.
The reason is because only Korean men between the ages of 18-28 are conscripted. 2023 was the last year Jimin was eligible for this program.
The criteria is very specific when choosing this type of enlistment. You can't "game" the system by enlisting in this program for reasons other than the ones the military has set for this type of enlistment. It's the military... they are masters at the "game." Strategy, out-thinking the enemy, creative warfare... that's their gig.
The barracks where Jimin and Jungkook sleep will be the same. The bathroom where they wash up will be the same. The cafeteria where they eat will be the same. Their recreational facilities will be the same.
It's the same base, same facilities. They may not be in each other's faces while they perform their jobs every day, but they see each other EVERY DAY. They sleep together EVERY NIGHT.
Delulu time.
Every time I say that I go "hammer time" and think of MC Hammer and the song starts in my head...anyway... I'm a dork.
I can imagine Jungkook's day starts a little earlier than Jimin's because the kitchen will need to be ready to serve breakfast for the rest of the soldiers.
There might be other teams/groups who also begin their day earlier than others. Perhaps they all gather and do some sort of brief, early morning drills or general chores before heading off to their respective posts/jobs for the day. I don't know, just guessing.
The kitchen team would do things like take in supplies, store the supplies correctly according to regulations, place orders for more supplies, gather the ingredients to make that day's menus, prepare the foods according to specified recipes, serve the food, maintain and clean the serving area, maintain and clean the cooking appliances, cookware, cooking utensils, clean the food trays and eating utensils, clean the kitchen from floor to ceiling, plan and prepare for the next day's menus, doing any preliminary prep like thawing frozen food, etc.
Menus are not decided on a whim. The Army will have set daily menus and have contracts within the country's food industry to provide ingredients and supplies in bulk.
I used to think it was slightly odd to obsess over the food they were being served in the military. But now I'm keenly interested. Is there a jikook food tray account on X?
As I don't really know the details of Jimin's job, I can only guess that he reports to his job, carries out his duties just like Jungkook and just like all their fellow soldiers. His duties may be similar in that he inventories supplies, orders new supplies/parts. Or he might be training for a specific skill like polishing glass for gun scopes or something. I just made that up to use as an example.
Of course, duty on base would be vastly different from combat if they were to actually be activated to fight. I don't want to think about that.
Perhaps during the course of their week, they all attend classes or lectures or informational meetings or whatever. I don't know. That's just a guess. But somehow, information would need to be shared and continuing training would need to occur.
At the end of the day, they'd head back to their own barracks and enjoy their evening of free time. They'd get their phones for a short period of time. From what I understand, depending on their location, their wireless signal may not be reliable or strong.
Maybe they work out. If so, they do it together. They are accustomed to doing that so there's every reason to think they'd also work out together while enlisted.
They can decompress in the company of each other, relaxing, being themselves in the comfort of familiarity. They can talk about things that they accomplished, things they learned or situations they got embarrassed about.
They can make jokes with each other, poke fun at each other, commiserate, empathize, laugh, express frustration or joy with each other.
If they have enough moments of privacy, they can vent about assholes they had to deal with or they can hype the nice people they interacted with during their day.
Or they can just relax in the company of each other in silence and nothing else.
You know... all the things you do with the person you are most comfortable with... the person they wanted next to them sharing the ups and downs of this period of their lives. It works out wonderfully for them.
Then lights out and go to sleep and do it all over again the next day.
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Anyway. I send up my thoughts every day that they are safe, healthy, eating well, and that their bodies and minds are strong. I am thankful they have each other. It is day 97 into their service. 451 days remaining. FIGHTING!
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blurredcolour · 2 months
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IV. “I Trust You Know What You’re Doing?”
"Trust" Series Masterlist
John "Bucky" Egan x WAC!Female Reader
Struggling with the forced separation of your transfer and promotion, it does not take long for you and Bucky to plan a trip to London together. But even while you're on leave, the world around you continues to do its best to tear itself apart.
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Warnings: Language, Grief, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes [oral - f receiving, implied virginity loss, protected vaginal sex, condoms, unprotected vaginal sex, multiple orgasms] - 18+ ONLY.
Author’s Note: Welcome to this massive installment. I have no excuses, only apologies. Also I only had the fortitude to proof this once, there may be more errors than normal, but I didn't want to delay it any longer - I will correct things as I find them. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.
ETA: The image descriptions for the letters contain the text within to allow for a screen reader or anyone who cannot read cursive. Click the ‘ALT’ button to access.
Word Count: 8497
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Wycombe Abbey could not have been more different than Thorpe Abbotts if it had tried.
The private, or in a most confusing twist ‘public’ as the Brits called such institutions, girls’ school had begun its life in the 17th century as a manor house before being transformed into a much grander residence near the end of the 19th century. The school had opened in 1896 with only forty students, but that number had swelled to over two hundred by the time the building was requisitioned for use as the Headquarters of the 8th Air Force.
Stained glass windows, stonework, archways, and wood panelling now replaced squat concrete buildings and rough-and-ready Nissen huts. Though everything was just as drafty, so at least the temperature provided some familiar consistency to your new surroundings. As you descended from your quarters tucked away in some forgotten corner of the attic, down a set of precarious servants’ stairs, you nearly took a wrong turn – again. To your credit you had only been here three days and the maze of corridors and rooms further divided into offices for USAAF purposes was nearly unnavigable.
Chiding yourself softly under your breath that your office was to the right and not the left, as though the sharpness of your tone might really drive it home this time, you quickened your steps still hoping to beat to postal clerk to the outgoing mail box that sat on the corner of your desk. It had been more of a challenge than you were expecting to write the letter clutched in your hand, but the daily meetings that senior operations officers held at 1015, 1600, and 2200 were your responsibility to attend and record via frantically scribbled notes to be typed up in a more professional format later.
These were the meetings at which mission targets for the entire 8th were chosen. The strategic value of various locations was discussed alongside weather reports and aligning with the RAF’s Bomber Command for maximum impact against Nazi Germany. After the first meeting, it would be decided if a mission would even be conducted the following day, and each Division, Wing, and Base involved would be put on alert to allow them time to begin planning the operation. By the time the last meeting ended, the target and approach would be finalized, and the official field orders would be issued.
It made for a remarkably long day, even with breaks for meals, and though you were guaranteed every other Friday off because of this, by the time you crawled into bed near midnight, you only had enough energy to add a few lines onto the letter you had begun to Bucky as soon as you arrived. It made for a rather disjointed and rambling piece of correspondence, in your opinion, but you could not bear to keep him waiting any longer – not wanting him to assume you had forgotten to write and not knowing how long the thing would take to reach him regardless.
Dashing into the office you shared with Myrtle, a very stoic young woman with dark hair and thick eyelashes from Rhode Island, you exhaled in relief to see the post still waiting to be collected and added your letter to the pile. Unlocking your desk drawers, you began setting up for the day, hoping it would reach him quickly.
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His reply arrived in your inbox just over two weeks later, near the end of September. Sliding it into your brown leather utility bag, you did your utmost to ignore its very existence throughout the first daily meeting, and your subsequent production of the official report thereof. Taking your lunch break a little earlier than usual paid off in that the line was much shorter at that time. You inhaled the mystery stew and rolls, hardly tasting them, before taking your letter outside to read in the rare afternoon sunshine.
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It was short, and it was unspeakably adorable that Bucky did not write in cursive, but there was no lack of his personality in his response. It was as though the very essence of him had been distilled into the ink itself and you could not help the broad grin that bore its way into the muscles of your cheeks, making them ache as you read it.
Glancing quickly at your watch, you realized there was still time to send a reply before the second post pick-up but based on the length of time it had taken for this exchange of letters, it was unlikely another would reach him with enough time to plan for October 8 – your next Friday off. Worrying your lip between your teeth as you considered your options, you landed on a rather devious idea, one that quite honestly would have never come to you if not for the deep need to reach Bucky immediately. Vi had a telephone on her desk in the weather office, a number that you had access to given the strategic importance of weather to the senior operations officers.
Myrtle would be on her break for another fifteen minutes…you had not even realized you had made up your mind before your feet began to carry you back inside, up the stairs into the mercifully still-empty office. Digging out the directory, you found the number for Thorpe Abbotts’ weather office and took a shaky breath as you sank into your chair.
‘Keep it brief, keep it free of classified information. Worst you’ll get is a reprimand.’
The devious, deceptive voice in your mind was a new one, fostered, perhaps, by the rather carefree man you found yourself deeply entangled with, but it was not one you were about to disobey. Lifting the handset of your phone from its cradle, you cleared your throat as the operator answered.
“Norfolk 7315, please.” You tried your best to sound calm and collected as the line clicked and began to ring.
“Phillips.” An unexpected voice answered, and you gulped, knowing Ruth would be less likely to participate in some romantic scheme.
You greeted her in kind, trying to ignore the ache of loneliness as she gasped softly.
“I was hoping you might pass along a message for me?”
“To a certain Major?” You could hear the grin in her voice and felt the pressure on your chest ease.
“Indeed. October 8. I will arrange accommodations.”
“Your line should he need to reach you?”
Hesitating a moment, you ultimately decided to provide it as well, wanting to ensure he could in fact contact you if something came up. Or perhaps any of them could – should the worst happen.
‘Don’t think about that.’ You chastised yourself internally.
“You’re well?” Ruth asked and you smiled softly.
“I am, please tell everyone I miss them terribly.”
“Will do, have to go.”
There was a ‘click’ as she hung up and the line went dead but the lightness in your heart could not be extinguished.
Nine days later you found yourself waiting on the platform at Liverpool Street station awaiting the arrival of Bucky’s train from East Anglia. Given the proximity of High Wycombe to London, you had arrived much earlier that morning and checked into the hotel already, dropping off your small bag and come to wait for his train – well you assumed he’d be on the first train of the day, but as the carriages disgorged a sea of humanity and you had yet to spot him, your brows began to furrow in doubt.
You were about to fish the folded schedule you had picked up from the ticket counter to check the next arrival time when he was suddenly wrapping an arm around you, pulling you tight into his chest as you gasped softly in surprise.
“There you are doll.” Bucky sighed, dropping his bag at your feet to slide the other arm around you as he pulled back to nudge your cap out of the way and deliver a breathtakingly thorough kiss that you were not entirely sure was appropriate for the public setting you were in.
Not that you stopped him, you own arms snaking about his midsection to cling to him tightly.
Pulling back, his eyes raked over your features lovingly as you both inhaled deeply to fill your greedy lungs.
“Well, well 1st Lieutenant.” He smirked proudly as he lifted his hand to stroke the chrome insignia you now wore on your lapels courtesy of your promotion, leaving smudges of his thumb print.
“You are leaving my uniform in disarray, Major.” You chided playfully, unable to hold back you grin, even for a moment, to sell the joke.
His forefinger hooked behind the knot in your tie, tugging it out from beneath your jacket and pulling you closer – eliminating the last few inches of space that remained between your bodies.
“Good.” He rumbled against your lips before kissing you deeply, severely undermining the infrastructure of your knees.
The loud racket of the train cars as they shunted into one another jolted the pair of you apart, making you realize you were among the last few remaining on the platform as the now empty train left the station.
“Let’s get you checked in and your bag dropped off.” You murmured, clearing your throat as you unbuttoned your uniform jacket to straighten and re-secure your tie.
His hand slid into yours as the pair of you made your way out of the station and he happily followed you to a hotel you’d found near his station, knowing that he’d be here longer than you and it would be easier for him to find his way back to base this way. Sitting patiently in the lobby as he checked in and ran his bag up, you smiled as he returned to hold his hands out to you.
“C’mon doll, I have a whole plan.”
Taking his hands, you rose to your feet, raising your eyebrows curiously. “A whole plan?”
He leaned in to murmur against your ear, “you’re not the only one involved in planning you know.”
You pulled back quickly, eyes wide with a touch of panic. You were quite certain you had never told him just what your new position entailed, and there was no way he could simply guess it.
“Easy doll, your phone line.” He winked as he maneuvered your arm through his, turning to lead you out the front door.
Slowly exhaling, it clicked into place. Of course. Just as you were able to find Vi’s desk number in a directory, it seemed Bucky had been doing a little research of his own.
“Well, shhh.” You chastened him firmly, laying a finger over your lips, looking very much like an anti-slander campaign poster.
His hearty laugh in response did little to convince you that he took in the message.
“Now, how do we get to Hyde Park…” He murmured, pulling a crumpled leave guide out of his pocket.
“The underground.” You answered easily, leading him back towards the very station he had arrived at but this time down to the tube station entrance where the pair of you purchased your tickets.
His touch rarely left you – even if he was forced to release your hand, you could feel his palm pressed against your lower back as you made your way through the crowded subterranean space. You were glad to have him with you this time, not particularly a fan of this mode of transportation, but it certainly was an efficient way to get around London. Pressed close together on the train, you took the opportunity to simply gaze at him, basking in his presence after nearly a month apart, not missing the way his mouth ticked up at the corner cockily.
“Missed you too, doll.” He winked and ducked a kiss to your ear before guiding you off the train at your stop – once he had confirmed with you it was indeed your stop.
Blinking your way back into the light of day, you pointed at a directional sign guiding the way to Hyde Park.
“Perfect, now apparently there are…sandwiches!” He crowed and tugged you over to a sandwich truck that seemed quite popular based on the line of waiting patrons.
Your face was starting to hurt, driving home how infrequently you had found the opportunity to smile in his absence, making you squeeze his hand fondly. Bucky looked back to you quickly as he joined the queue.
“You really did plan everything.” You gulped quickly and he beamed proudly.
“Anything for my girl. What kind would you like?” He gestured at the menu written on the side of the truck.
By the time you reached the front of the line, Bucky was able to easily place your order, including two bottles of lemonade, insisting on paying. Opening your utility bag, you carefully packed the lunch away, earning a rather damp and enthusiastic kiss on your cheek as he snatched your hand to continue onto the park.
“May I ask what it is about this park in particular?” You inquired as the pair of you dashed across the road.
“You can ask…” His cheeky reply had you scoffing in return as you entered the canopy of trees, following a path further and further away from the traffic of downtown London.
Plenty of men in uniform seemed to be out, enjoying the nice weather with women on their arms. Women who, unlike you, enjoyed the luxury of being allowed to dress as they chose during their leisure time. It had been one of many reasons that nearly twenty-five percent of women had chosen not to remain enlisted during the transition from the WAAC to the WAC, the army requirement to remain in uniform even when off-duty. In all honesty, you had not really missed your civilian clothes until just then.
Watching the sheer femininity of those women as they swirled about in their colorful fabrics only drove home how drably olive and plainly cut your uniform truly was.
“You’re a million miles away, doll.” Bucky’s voice cut through the dark clouds that had gathered in your mind and you looked to him quickly.
“Sorry Bucky, it’s beautiful here. Like another place entirely.” You offered him a smile but by the way his eyebrow lifted slightly he did not seem to be entirely buying it. “Have the leaves started changing around the base yet?” You tried changing the subject.
He shook his head, releasing your hand to slide his arm around your waist instead, pulling you closer. “Seems everything will happen later here than back home.”
You hummed thoughtfully, glancing ahead and gasping a little at the glimpse of a sizeable body of water that seemed to be filled with rowboats.
“That’s why were here.”
You turned back to him to see a broad grin had overtaken his face and laughed in excitement as it was terribly romantic.
“If I had known, Major Egan, I would have brought my parasol.” You grinned and he snorted, squeezing your hip fondly.
“No need to put on airs, 1st Lieutenant,” he smirked, “the ride will be enjoyable all the same.”
“Bucky!” You hissed sharply, slapping his chest as he laughed deeply, ducking your head slightly as more than a few passersby shot glances your way.
“C’mon doll.” He chuckled and led you over to the booth beside the dock, paying the fee for a thirty-minute rental before the pair of you headed down to climb into one of the waiting row boats.
Setting your heavy bag on the floor, you carefully stepped into the rather unstable watercraft, settling on the passenger’s bench – denoted as such by the ornate ironwork arms. Bucky followed, seated across from you at the oars, his knees nearly brushing against yours, legs too long for so small a boat. Unbuttoning and sliding off his jacket, he tossed it and his cap to you before rolling up his sleeves and began to row the pair of you out onto The Serpentine, you now knew the small lake to be called.
“I trust you know what you’re doing?” You asked as he appeared to easily manage the oars, seeming at ease in the small boat.
“Mostly.” He teased with a wink before laughing at your slightly aghast expression. “Grew up on the shore of Lake Michigan, doll. Boats are like planes to me, easily managed.” He soothed.
It was difficult to decide which view to settle your eyes upon, the verdant green of the still-lush trees, the throng of boats around you, or Bucky working up a remarkably attractive sheen of sweat with his forearms on display as he propelled the rowboat through the water. A feathered fan would have been a very useful tool in that moment, to hide behind or cool yourself down, or perhaps both.
Belatedly, you realized that Bucky had been speaking this whole time – about events back at Thorpe Abbotts. Giving you the update about the people you knew, the trouble Meatball had caused with a farmer down the road, but he trailed off when he realized you were staring once more in dumbfounded silence at him.
“Doll, you’re going to give me a big head if you keep looking at me like that.” He winked as he lifted the oars from the water, letting the water sluice from the blades before tucking them into the boat on either side of you.
“Y…you’re good at that.” You replied lamely and shook your head. “Hungry?” Leaning forward for your bag, which was in all honestly a lot closer to his feet in the floor of the boat, you froze as everything tilted precariously in response to your movements.
Bucky lay a gentle hand on your shoulder to steady you. “Allow me.” Bending down slowly, he scooped up your bag and opened the flap to retrieve your sandwich and lemonade. “It’s sure tight in here, how did you even make this all fit?”
He tugged a little harder on the packet containing your lunch and your eyes widened in horror as, while he was triumphant, he also managed to send the three condoms you had tucked into your bag scattering to the floor of the boat. His eyes followed the distinct, square, paper packets and you could see his throat bob as he swallowed viciously.
“Doll…” His voice came out rough as a gravel road as he slowly raised his eyes to meet yours. “…been doing some planning of your own?”
“‘A WAC is always prepared.’” You quoted in a mortified whisper, struggling against the urge to lunge forward and hide the evidence, knowing it would only send both of you over the side and into the lake.
You watched another swallow ripple down Bucky’s throat before he offered your lunch to you, carefully collecting the offending items and returning them to your bag before he retrieved his own food.
“Would you mind,” He spoke after taking a rather ruthless and oversized bite of his sandwich, words muffled between slices of bread and chicken salad before he swallowed to start over. “Would you mind if, instead of following the rest of my plan, after these thirty minutes are up, I take you back to the hotel?”
Taking a thick swallow of your own, you shook your head slowly as you felt your cheeks heat up at the implications of that invitation. “I would not mind, no.” You clarified breathlessly and he nodded sharply, gesturing for your as-yet-unopened bottle of lemonade.
Handing it back to him, you watched silently as he lined the edge of the cap with the metal plate holding the oarlock in place, popping it off the bottle with one sharp blow of the heel of his palm.
“Thank you.” You murmured quietly as he passed you the opened drink, taking a deep sip as he repeated the process with his own, draining nearly half the bottle in one go.
Tilting your head back to take in the feel of the sun on your face, you slid your cap from your hair, adding it to the pile of his neatly folded items on the bench beside you, continuing to enjoy your picnic on the lake.
“You heard about Dye hitting twenty-five?” He broke the silence, sounding much more like himself again and you nodded quickly.
“Big news, everywhere in the 8th. Lucky crew all heading home – how did Lil take it?” You tilted your head curiously, raising your bottle to your lips, his eyes following the motion closely.
“Hm? Oh, she’ll be alright…they’re both good at letters.” He nodded, leaning back a little.
You knocked your knee against his affectionately. “Don’t sell yourself short you sweet man, I thoroughly enjoyed yours.”
His eyes flicked to yours quickly as a small smile curled his lips. “Yeah?”
You nodded firmly. “Yeah. Promise to give you more to reply to soon, phone was just necessary to make this happen.”
His hand landed on your thigh gently and he squeezed the flesh through your skirt. “Worth it. Just how long are your days though, doll?”
Your fingers played along the empty glass bottle, and you shrugged. “As long as they need to be.” You replied evasively.
“Mm, I’m going to get a better answer out of you than that.” He threatened playfully as he leaned forward to grasp the oar handles, swinging the blades back into the water and taking the pair of you on a loop around the corner of the lake before returning you to the dock.
Bucky climbed out first, taking his cap and jacket before helping you out easily, kissing you firmly as soon as you were on solid ground. “Let’s take a cab…” He breathed impatiently and you laughed, shaking your head.
“The cost would be astronomical, come on.” You affixed your cap on your head as he rolled down his sleeves and slid his jacket back on before the pair of you made your way back to the Underground.
Bucky’s body was practically pressed against yours the entire trip back to Liverpool Street station, seemingly unable to tolerate any form of separation. As you neared the hotel though, you looked to him slowly. “We should go in as colleagues…I booked us that way.”
He looked at you utterly confused, and you swallowed.
“We’re unwed, there was no way I could book us here together, and they will be none to please if they realize I’ve tricked them. I’ll get my key, you get yours, I’ll come to your room…”
He nodded slowly, arm reluctantly unwinding from around your waist before holding the door open for you to step inside.
“Thank you, Major.” You nodded, sliding your cap from your head as you stepped inside, heading to the counter to fetch your room key as he did the same, the pair of you walking up the stairs to the fifth floor together before parting ways so you could fetch your small overnight bag.
It was rather a waste of money, to book a room knowing you would most likely never sleep in it, but such things were necessary for women like you. Women who chose to go to bed with a man they were not married to in the long light of the afternoon. Taking a steadying breath, you left the perfectly made bed behind, walking down the hall to Bucky’s room and knocking on the door softly.
It promptly swung open to reveal a smiling Bucky, his jacket and cap long gone, along with his necktie, the top few buttons of his shirt undone. He stepped back and gestured for you to enter his much larger room with a small brown paper wrapped packet clasped in his hand. Once the door was closed behind you, you let out the laugh you had been holding.
“I did book this under Major John Egan, I suppose they felt the need to give you a nicer room than a Lieutenant.”
He smirked and kissed your cheek, taking your cap and bag from your hand, then pressing the package into it. “Before I forget, again.”
“Bucky you didn’t have to get me anything, you came to see me…”
“Open it.” His eyes danced with anticipation, and you began to pull at the piece of twine holding the package closed, unfolding the utilitarian paper to reveal a brand-new pair of stockings.
You let out an audible gasp as your jaw fairly fell to the floor.
“To replace the pair that got wrecked when you fell.” He smiled, obviously pleased by your reaction.
“How on earth did you…?!” You trailed off, staring up at him in wonderment.
“A man never reveals his secrets, doll.” He grinned and let out a grunt as you launched yourself into his arms, kissing him fiercely at the thoughtfulness of his gift and in recognition of the sheer determination it must have taken to achieve such a feat in rationed England.
His fingers gently plied the items from your grasp, setting them on the bedside table, freeing your hands to latch onto his arms as he cupped your face gently.
“You sure about this, my beautiful girl?” He whispered and your breath hitched in your throat at the tender look on his face just inches from yours.
“Yes.” You nodded quickly, sliding your fingers into his hair to pull his lips back to yours greedily.
A pleased noise rolled from his throat and across your tongue as he coaxed your mouth open, his fingers shifting to make steady work at the buttons on your jacket before he unwound your hands from his dark curls to slide the garment off, tossing it in the general direction of the chair that held his. You could not help the giggle that bubbled up from your chest at that as you moved to undo the buttons of his shirt one by one.
The tug of his teeth on your lower lip quickly transformed your laughter to shuddering breath as you held tightly to the open sides of his shirt, feeling him tug your tie free from your collar before it joined the pile of clothes somewhere on the plush blue carpet of the hotel room floor. Your shirt and skirt were quick to join it, leaving you in your brassiere and slip, garter belt and underwear still hidden from view.
“You have a remarkable number of layers on, doll.” He huffed as his mouth descended along your throat to suck at the crook of your shoulder, installing a dramatic curve in your spine as you arched against him wantonly with a half-swallowed cry of pleasure.
“Y…you have almost as many…” You protested, tugging the ends of his shirt from his trousers before pushing it from his shoulders only to be met with his undershirt.
The sheer broadness of him had never quite been so very apparent and had you licking your lips as you struggled with the last barrier between you and his torso, your ID tags rasping metallically against his.
“Not nearly as complicated though.” He muttered as his fingers worked at the hook and eye closure of your bra until you felt the band go slack and he leaned back to slide the straps down your arms, making you shiver as your breasts were revealed to his hungry gaze.
Bucky’s heavy exhale fluttered against your collarbone, grown cool by the time it traversed the distance between you, and you shuddered slightly, looking to the side shyly. He leaned in to brush his nose against yours tenderly, pecking your lips.
“Whatcha hiding for, gorgeous?” His tone was gentle and had your eyes slowly sliding to meet his, an action he rewarded with a deep kiss.
He continued to distract you with repeated meetings your lips, each time with growing intensity as his palms slid upwards along your sides to cup your breasts. The meeting of flesh had you inhaling sharply through your nose, hands seeking anchor as your fingers twisted into his beltloops where his trousers hung open around his hips – yet again delaying you in your purpose of undressing him. As his thumbs honed in on your sensitive peaks, Bucky elicited all manner of noises from your throat only to eagerly devour them.
“D’ya have any idea how soft you are doll?” He sighed against your lips as he kneaded your tender flesh. “’Cept right here.” He smirked as he tugged at your nipples and you whined his name, pressing impossibly close against him, realizing he was anything but soft.
Your shimmies and writhes against him seemed to serve as a reminder of the greater purpose at hand and Bucky’s fingers ceased their torment, sliding down to your hips to divest you of your slip before beginning to work at your stockings. Toeing off your shoes, you pushed his trousers from his hips, letting gravity do the rest.
“So many hooks and straps and loops…” He muttered as his mouth dipped to the hollow of your throat, though his fingers seemed more than capable of stripping you down to only your underwear.
Seizing your hips, Bucky guided you back onto the bed, and you could not help the sigh at that flew from your mouth at the feel of a real mattress with springs and a duvet, drawing a broad grin across his face as he crawled over you, coaxing you to lay back.
“Precious women like you should always have luxurious beds like these. None of those stinking Army cots…” His hands slid beneath your spine to half guide, half drag you up to rest on the obnoxious mountain of pillows.
Staring up at him in awe, at a complete loss for words, you settled on pressing up onto your elbows to kiss him firmly, hoping to convey your appreciation physically rather than trying to summon speech. As his lips parted from yours to begin sliding down your body, you let out a slight huff of annoyance, earning a chuckle against your collarbone which rumbled through his chest and into your body. He lifted his head slightly as his fingers wove through the ball chain of your ID tags as he seemed to notice them for the first time.
“I always wondered if you ladies had these.”
You bit your lip to smother your grin as he never hesitated to say what was on his mind, a constant stream of commentary on the world around him, and rather than annoying, you found it utterly adorable.
“Are you laughin’ at me, doll?” He smirked and gave a gentle tug, pulling a genuine laugh from you, to which he responded with a brilliant grin. “Alright then, I’ll give you something to laugh about.” He bowed his head to drag the flat of his tongue across your nipple, your resulting whimper bouncing off the walls as he resumed his teasing of your opposite breast.
“B…Bucky…” Your eyes shot wide as his plush lips sealed around that tender peak, applying a positively euphoric suction that had you burying your fingers in his hair and pressing your body closer to his mouth in silent demand.
With careful precision, his knee slid its way between your thighs, applying coaxing pressure to each in turn until you provided enough room for him to settle between them. The feeling of his hard length slotting against your core with only the thin barrier of your underwear separating your intimate flesh had your jaw dropping open in a silent ‘oh’ – a revelation unto itself despite all the experiences you had enjoyed with him thus far. Undulating your hips against his experimentally, you shuddered at the ragged, abbreviated groan he pressed against your sternum, caught in the midst of traversing your chest. Thoroughly encouraged, you repeated the action, savagely gnawing on your lip as he bit off a curse before his mouth reached its destination and laved at your neglected nipple.
Nestling tighter against you, Bucky began to roll his hips against you in earnest, obliterating your ability to think and scheme against him at the blinding pleasure his combined actions induced. You could feel the smug angle of his lips against your abdomen as his mouth was trailing lower on your body, his fingers curling into the waistband of your underwear to peel it from your body. Shifting back to free the interfering item from your legs, he gazed down at you with almost black eyes, his pupils having nearly devoured his irises in his arousal, before stretching forward onto his stomach.
Blinking rapidly, you raised up on your elbows to watch him hoist one of your legs over a strong shoulder and then the other, shuffling embarrassingly close to the apex of your thighs.
“Bucky?” You squeaked hesitantly.
He raised an eyebrow up at you, his pink tongue darting out the wet his lips, nearly matching the flush that had painted its way across his cheeks and down his neck. “Yes, doll?”
“What…” You swallowed thickly as your throat clenched erratically.
“Making good on a promise.” He replied seriously before stretching forward to deliver a thorough kiss to your folds that fairly sucked the air from your lungs, an odd whistling sound echoing through you as you savagely burrowed your fingers into the bedding.
When his tongue narrowed in on that sensitive bundle of nerves, it was your turn to bite off a curse, slumping back onto the pillows as he hummed against you in what was surely mock sympathy as he most certainly did not let up, his efforts only doubling. As your hips began to jerk and writhe, he slung a heavy forearm across your pelvis to pin you in place, only shifting closer and tracing his forefinger around your entrance teasingly. It was all you could do not to kick and wail as you felt yourself becoming embarrassingly slick, the noises he was making growing ever so obscene and filling the hotel room.
“Fuck!” You whined against your palm as his finger finally sunk into your wet heat, its passage remarkably eased by your arousal, hips bucking hard enough to jar his arm slightly.
“Damn you’re delicious, doll.” He growled against you, lips smacking loudly as he began to suck at your pearl, finger working you open enough to add a second before beginning a demanding rhythm.
“Oh…oh...god…” You cried out in agony, too far gone to remember your desire to be quiet, feeling the tension of pending release growing ever closer under his amorous onslaught.
“I know, I know…” He soothed, only quickening his pace, hooking his fingers towards the front of your body, sending your back into a dramatic curve from the mattress, a tortured moan ripping from your throat. “Oh, I have to see that again.” He rasped and sought that precise spot with a ruthless single-minded precision until he was rewarded with not only the same reaction, but your strangled cry as your orgasm slammed into you with breath-taking force.
As you returned to earth from your visit to the celestial plane, the first sensation you became aware of was tender, damp kisses being pressed to your inner thigh as Bucky murmured soft words of encouragement to you.
“There’s my gorgeous girl, holy hell that was incredible, did you enjoy that half as much as I did?”
You managed a wordless noise in the affirmative that summoned him to your side, his lips feathering kisses up your jaw to your ear, the tickle of his moustache making you laugh breathlessly.
“Good?” He murmured and you nodded quickly, turning to look at his still-expectant face.
“Yes.” You cobbled together a verbal response, and he blessed you with a warm smile which you leaned in to press your lips against in gratitude.
“Good.” He swiped his tongue along your lips before suddenly slipping from the bed, making you raise your head in confusion.
Stalking over to find your utility bag amongst the sea of discard items and clothing, he proudly retrieved the three condoms that had announced your hopes and intentions for you by appearing in the rowboat, unceremoniously shucking off his boxers as he made his way back to you. You had held his length before, stroked it to completion, but that paled in comparison to seeing the full expanse of him in the light of day.
“My gorgeous doll, you might not say a lot, but you sure don’t mind looking at what you like.” He smirked unabashedly as he set two of the paper packets on the night table beside you, unwrapping the third to unroll the protective latex onto his cock.
Rather than letting his teasing words dissuade you, though they did cause your teeth to sink into your lower lip, you chose to allow your eyes to linger on his actions, rather fascinated by the whole process. By the male anatomy as well. Task managed, he was climbing over you once more, blocking the golden light of afternoon that was filtering in through the windows with his body, warmth radiating from his skin. He settled easily between your legs once more, still parted from his early activities as you really had not summoned the wherewithal to move yet, and stroked his length through the lingering slick gathered along your folds.
A broken sigh fell from his lips before they clashed with yours, not quite aligned, but the sentiment was still there, body shuddering as you slid your arms around him to cling to his shoulders. It was difficult to tell just whom Bucky was teasing as he continued to rut against you, the tip of his cock brushing against your overly-sensitive bundle of nerves, both of you huffing through your nostrils until at last he began to sink into you.
Tearing your lips from his, you sucked in gasping breaths at the feel of the foreign intrusion, appreciating the fact that his pace seemed to slow in response to that. Appreciating the pause he afforded you when his pelvis slotted snuggly against yours once he was seated fully inside you. Cracking open your clenched eyes, you gulped tightly as they were immediately met by Bucky’s, crowned by a furrowed brow, but flicking over your features studiously as if awaiting your instruction.
“I’m ok.” You breathed and he nodded, immediately seizing your lips in a kiss once more as he rocked forward, earning a ragged moan as your fingertips dug into the skin of his back.
His familiarity with this sort of activity had always been apparent, but was exceptionally obvious now as he slowly began the rhythmic push and pull to drive you both towards climax. The sheer intimacy of it was too much and yet it was not nearly enough, your body craving ever more, ever faster, with increasing desperation. The rare moments that Bucky’s lips were not on yours, they were filling the room with choked-off moans or statements of the filthiest order.
“God doll, you feel so fucking good around me.”
“So tight. I can feel how wet you are too, even with this rubber on.”
“You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t ya? You’re gripping on me like a…fuck I can’t think when you do that…”
His ability to even speak while experiencing such mind-numbing pleasure, rambling though it was, was fairly awe-inspiring. Your responses were limited to moans and whimpers and cries of his name as his supposition was correct – your orgasm was indeed imminent. All it took was the solicitous stroking of his forefinger against the apex of your pleasure to send you flying over the cliff into paradise, clinging to his body as you cried out in ecstasy.
A string of rasped curses mixed in with several sighs of your name heralded his release as Bucky finished not long after, rocking against you sloppily before sinking down onto your chest with a comforting heaviness. Stroking his back tenderly as he nestled into your neck, you grinned stupidly at the ceiling as you felt quite pleased with your choices.
The pair of you made good use of the rest of the condoms you had brought, with a short break for a meal Bucky procured while you took a bath. He returned with a bottle of brandy as well, finding you still in the bathtub. A lot of water ended up on the floor, a pile of water-logged towels your testament to the attempted clean-up. Eating in bed, you shared stories of your childhoods – Bucky’s about growing up on the shores of Lake Michigan, yours of the small two-storey house with its screen door and front porch from which you had watched your brother play with the neighbourhood boys.
You fell asleep in one another’s arms after the final condom was disposed of, the sun long set, but awoke sometime in the night to the unsettling sound of an air raid siren. Not as common in 1943, yet being as close as you were to Canary Wharves, the Luftwaffe still made the occasional bomb run. Startled to find the bed empty, you sat up sharply to see Bucky sitting in front of the window, completely naked, intermittently illuminated by the flashes of distant explosions and anti-aircraft fire.
“Sorry doll, didn’t mean to wake ya.” He muttered and you shook your head, sliding to the end of the bed.
“You ok?” You tilted your head, blinking into a particularly bright flash.
“Hmmm…” He replied noncommittally, turning back to the scene before him with a frown. “I’ve dropped a lot of those. Done a lot of killing.”
Swallowing tightly, you slid to your feet despite the way your heart was pounding in your throat, padding across the carpet towards him.
“Done your job, Bucky. Done what was asked of you.” You assured him, coming to stand behind him, setting your hands on his shoulders.
“If there’s any balance to all this, my ticket was punched a long time ago.” He muttered sullenly and it was your turn to frown.
Bending down to press a kiss to the crown of his head, you stepped in front of him to block his view, perhaps, hopefully, to block his darker thoughts as you shifted to sit on his thighs.
“Whatcha doin’ doll?” He quirked an eyebrow, mouth falling open in a silent moan as your fingers slid between your bodies to gently stroke his length.
“Lightening up.” You replied, invoking the words of your dead brother’s inscription.
It was impossible to think of a more important piece of advice or a more importance source in that moment. A young man who would never get the chance to spend one more time in his lover’s arms, who knew you better than anyone in the entire world. And you were most certainly going to follow it. You had to be up in less than three hours, to catch the first train to High Wycombe, and you would not pass up this moment with Bucky. The future was unknowable, your brother’s death had certainly taught you that.
Bucky’s fingers curled into your hips as his mouth descended onto yours greedily, clearly in agreement with your plan, despite the lack of remaining condoms. Shuffling closer, you guided his now fully hard cock into your body, your soft noises of pleasure colliding with his in the space between your parted lips. Working together, with plenty of guidance from his firm grip, you began to rocking your hips, using his shoulders for leverage. His head fell back to stare up at you in awe, jaw slack, adam’s apple bobbing viciously.
“Christ, I love you…” His face betrayed such vulnerability, lips trembling slightly, that you quickly lifted your hands to cradle his cheeks, even as your lashes grew suddenly damp.
“I love you too, John. So much.” You replied thickly, rather resenting the dramatic wobble in your voice.
The tiniest of smiles pulled at his lips before his face grew serious once more and he lunged forward to kiss you hungrily, hands anchoring your shoulders so he might thrust up into your body with a sudden need. It was all you could do to hang on, though pleasure itself still managed to sweep you away, leaving you only with the vague recognition of him half pulling out mid-release.
It was terribly difficult to leave him in that comfortable, if messy, bed a few hours later. He did not make it easy either, impossible to untangle from your body like an unwieldy piece of seaweed. Yet somehow you managed to make your trains and arrive at your desk at the appointed hour. Focusing on the task at hand with the pleasurable ache between your legs was altogether another challenge, forcing you to sit on first one hip and then the other.
You had just returned after the lunch break when your phone rang, your greeting barely out of your mouth before Bucky’s question came down the line.
“Did you know you know where they played yesterday’s match?” He asked flatly and it took you several seconds to comprehend that he was speaking in code and just what he was getting at.
You swallowed painfully. “Yes, I did sir.”
Of course you did, you were in the room on Thursday night when they had chosen Bremen as the target for yesterday’s mission.
“A lot of our best players struck out, you know. Buck included.”
He sounded utterly unlike himself, cold and distant, not the man you had left just hours ago in that hotel room in London. All the same, your heart broke for him, and for yourself too. You liked Major Cleven – this war was nothing but cruel.
“I’m so sorry B-Major Egan.” You corrected yourself quickly, eyeing Myrtle across the room.
“Well I hope you all pick a better field for tomorrow’s match because I’m pitching.”
You opened your mouth to reply as your heart dropped through the floor, but the sound of the handset slamming into the cradle resounded over the line before it went dead, giving you no opportunity to speak. To wish him luck or, heaven forfend, goodbye. You hung up your phone with a slightly shaking hand as a deep sense of dread threaded its way through your stomach.
-------------------------
Read Part Five - "I Trusted You!"
"Trust" Series Masterlist
Tag list: @gretagerwigsmuse, @precious-little-scoundrel, @rubyfruitjungle, @storysimp, @mads-weasley, @xxanaduwrites, @bcon24, @fxxiva, @slowsweetlove, @hockeyboysarehot, @darylas
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zvaigzdelasas · 3 months
Text
[Sky News is Private UK Media]
Washington and London opted to strike Yemen with precision bombs rather than accelerating efforts to end violence in Gaza, where more than 20,000 people have been killed in three months. Regional diplomats say the longer that conflict continues, the less possible it becomes to contain.
The language being used by Biden administration is interesting.
"Iran is a primary - if not the primary - enabler or supporter, sponsor of the Houthis and Iran has been involved operationally in the conduct of these attacks," a Biden administration official said.
They don't talk about Iran directing the attacks against shipping or US military in the region in the way that they might have done not long ago.
They talk about Iran being the "enabler" rather than the puppet master. And that's because they know that the "Iranian proxies" in the Middle East are no longer puppets.
Hezbollah in Lebanon, the Houthis in Yemen, and Hamas in Gaza - all are established forces making strategic decisions, aligned with Iranian ideology of course and with Iranian-made weapons, but driven by their own ambitions.[...]
The Houthis have claimed their attacks on shipping are in solidarity with the Palestinian cause.
They frame it as an international shipping lane-based protest against what they call a genocide.[...]
But make no mistake, among regional populations, the Houthis are seen, not insignificantly, as having chosen to back support for Gaza with material action.
America and the UK chose military action to try to stop the Houthi missiles. They chose to bomb the world's poorest nation with precision bombs. That's risky and optically awkward, to say the least.
Another course would have been to seek to remove the Houthi pretext by accelerating efforts to end the Gaza conflict and solve the Israel-Palestine question.[...]
The Americans have shown an unwillingness or inability to influence Israeli actions in Gaza.
And for that, they have not just lost credibility among regional leaders. America has lost populations in the Middle East these last few months.[...]
[C]rucially, [senior regional diplomats] say that while Iran doesn't seek to escalate all this into a regional war, it cannot mitigate for potential miscalculation in Lebanon, Yemen or Iraq because the groups operating there are more and more independent.
What's happening how is this in Sky [12 Jan 24]
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chamomiletealeaf · 5 months
Text
Simon Riley teaching you how to shoot his gun.
warnings: kinda nsfw, suggestive, mentions of weapons, size kink, Simon is a cocky little slut and a bit more playful than he is originally, reader has Laswell's job (I'M SORRY LASWELL I LOVE YOU MY LOVE)
wc: 2,367
a/n: Sorry this prompt was so late. Final papers and stuff have been taking up my time so I haven't had much time to write full fics like this. I wanted to wait until I could really engage in it for y'all. Hope you guys enjoy 🫡 I tried my best and researched what I thought was necessary to be as accurate as possible when it comes to ranks, positions, and responsibilities of certain spots and jobs in the military. I apologize for any inaccuracies.
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You are CIA. You're no stranger to the atrocities of the world, nor are you a stranger on how to deal with them. Your special skills in strategizing missions and intelligence analysis was something you were well known and respected for and did not go unnoticed by Captain John Price, which is how you got recruited as a Communications Analyst and Operation Overseer for Task Force 141.
You loved your job. The men you worked with on the Task Force became more than just coworkers and rather close friends over time.
You worked on base most of the time while the team was out in the field during missions, so with you being their boots on the ground and the birdie in their ears, you're like an omniscient entity, which they saw you as. You needed them and they needed you.
However, it was difficult being apart during missions knowing that if anything happened to you or them, you couldn't do anything to physically help each other in that moment, which is why you all needed to know how to handle personal enemy attacks on your own if needed. Luckily, you were all pretty good at that.
You knew how to shoot a gun, fight, outsmart captors, and take care of the team. You could definitely handle and take care of yourself pretty well. However, you still thought to yourself:
"There's always more to learn, right?"
-
"Oh c'mon Simon how hard could it be, you forget who I am." You laugh as you go to drink from your glass of iced tea.
You and the Task Force were celebrating your victory on your most recent mission in the common area of the base. The men had most of their gear off leaving their gloves and holsters on and Simon also with his signature skull balaclava and hoodie.
You sat on one of the couches in the common area next to Johnny with his arm sprawled across the back of it behind your neck. Your white button down was tucked into your black dress pants and you had the first few buttons undone, leaving less to the imagination. You also had on your black slightly heeled shoes, which were surprisingly very comfortable.
Simon sat across from you, body turned in your direction. Gaz sat next to him and Price leaned on the couch behind the two with a glass in hand.
"I'm just saying. Such a small thing probably couldn't handle something so big." Simon says and smirks under his balaclava as he looks at you, clearly amused by his innuendo.
You roll your eyes and Johnny laughs.
Simon didn't mean it, and you knew. He saw the way you handled things so efficiently and skillfully, whether it be a knife, a gun, intel, missions, or even himself, It's one of the main things he loved and admired about you, though he would never say it.
"I don't know L.T., you forget when she pinned me in seconds last time we sparred." Johnny says.
"I wouldn't underestimate the gal Lieutenant. You've seen what happens to the men who do." Price says, smirking and taking a swig of his drink.
"Who got you around those guards by hacking into the cameras and telling you where to go hm?" You ask Simon.
"You did lass." Johnny says as he lifts his arm to playfully poke your cheek.
You giggle and push his hand away.
"I'm not doubting her, it's just harder than it looks. Don't think she could do it as easily as she says she can."
"That's literally the definition of doubt L.T." Gaz says.
You scoff with your mouth open, smiling in surprise.
"Wow, ok, I see how it is, Lieutenant." You emphasized the title you called him to tease him, as you were the only one who ever called him Simon. Calling him Lieutenant meant you were either being dead serious, angry with him, or teasing him. And Simon would be lying if he told himself he didn't like it when you called him by his ranked position. He also loved how you were the only one who called him by his name.
"Oooohh fuck yer in trouble now L.T." Johnny said.
As the night went on and got older, you could feel your heart getting lighter as you forgot about the stresses of life for a while.
After a few more hours of harmless banter and laughs between the five of you, the men decided to help you clean the common area up and head back to their quarters.
Simon, however, was the last to leave.
As you placed your glass in the sink with the other dishes and glasses, another glass was placed in the sink by another hand.
"Thanks love." Simon said as he gently placed his glass down in the sink next to yours.
"For what?" you said.
"For getting us to forget for a while. For getting me to relax."
Simon never really was one to speak much about anything really. You weren't sure if it was the bourbon speaking but regardless, you melted at his vulnerability he trusted you with.
"You're welcome Simon." You turn to smile at him, both staring in each others eyes for a few seconds in silence.
"But you know what I didn't forget?" You ask, smirk creeping onto your face.
Simon raises his eyebrows in anticipation awaiting your answer.
"That you think I can't shoot a gun bigger than a pistol."
Simon laughs, throwing his head back causing your eyes to lose contact with his honey-colored ones, the sound causing your heart to drop with the weight of your lust like a star falling out of the sky.
"Ok, well, how 'bout you prove me wrong then?" Simon asks, a mischievous look in his eye.
"Challenge accepted, Lieutenant." You said, walking past him and making your way to the shooting range, expecting him to follow.
This time, it was Simon's heart's turn to drop.
-
Simon enters the range after you, and you've already got your safety glasses and headphones on, leaning against one of the dividers of the range with your hands on your hips looking at him as if you've been waiting for hours.
"Well Lieutenant, show me what you think I can't do." You say, and Simon doesn't say anything. He stops in the door frame and after a second, he silently goes to choose a weapon. He picks up a big gun, one of his, purposefully picking one that would be difficult for you just to prove that you couldn't do it. He was such a cocky bitch.
He approaches you with the weapon, and you look at it in his hands, stiffening up a bit at the intimidating sight of it, and Simon chuckles.
"This" Simon says, lifting the gun up for you to get a better look, "is an AR-15. It was created for ad-"
"Advantage over the AK-47." You cut him off, smirking in triumph as you once again catch the soldier in front of you off guard and he looks at you with an amused raised eyebrow.
"Ok smartass. Since you know so much, show me how to hold it then." Simon drops the weapon in your hands and crosses his arms, spreading his legs a little, standing in an even more intimidating position. The gun is heavy and big, causing you to stumble due to Simon catching you off guard this time. It's safety was on, as Simon would never put you in any danger, which is why he was so comfortable with teasing you in this setting.
He laughs to himself, thinking how cute you look with such a big weapon.
You look at the gun, then up at Simon, then to the target in the range. You make your way to one of the spaces between the dividers and lift the gun. It's heavier than you thought, but nothing you couldn't handle.
Simon follows behind, standing behind you with his arms still crossed and legs apart.
"Well go on, if it's so easy." Simon teases.
"Oh relax." You playfully snap back at him.
You lift up the weapon, and look through the sight, aiming at the target.
You look through the sight a bit longer, making sure you're lined up, as you feel Simon's presence even closer.
He comes up behind you, pressing his front against your back as he reaches an arm around to turn off the safety. You lift your head from the sight and lower the weapon a little, giving him room to access whatever he was reaching for.
"Safety is still on sweetheart." Simon says, voice dripping with cockiness as he continues to tease you.
"I knew that." You mumble. "Just testing the sight."
"Mhm sure bunny." He says, the nickname making your eyes widen a bit and your cheeks flush red as you look down at the weapon, not daring to look back at him.
You lift the gun back up, and you feel Simon move behind you once again as he kicks your legs apart and places his hands firmly on your hips. You feel him press his front against you once again, making you gasp.
"Here, spread your legs a bit. Left foot slightly in front of your right." He tells you lowly and softly in your ear, and you let him adjust your body, praying he doesn't feel the increasing heat radiating off of you.
He grips your hips and pulls them back against him so you're pressing directly into him.
"There you go, just like that." He says, and your breath hitches at the suggestive words and how he's handling you.
"The recoil can be a lot, so keeping your hips back and one leg slightly in front will keep you stable when you shoot." He says into your ear, hand still tightly gripping your hips, and you bite your lip and nod your head, afraid to make a sound that could possibly give away how nervous and aroused you were in this moment. You could feel him getting hard behind you, and you could feel how big he was, but you resisted grinding back into him.
Simon released his hold on your hips and brought his hands up and around yours. You noted how big his hands were compared to yours, making you blush yet again. He was so close and just so big compared to you, and you yourself weren't even that small.
"Now, lift this up a little more." He says, lifting the weapon up higher in your grasp.
He moves his left hand up yours up under the barrel of the gun a little more, helping you hold it as his right helps you keep your hand in place off the trigger until ready to shoot.
"There we go, atta girl, just like that." He says, and you swear he's gotta be doing this on purpose now. You feel yourself start to grow wetter between your legs as you start to throb, biting your lip even harder now, trying your hardest to not let out a moan at his words.
"Now." he says, as he moves his finger over yours to place it on the trigger.
"Shoot." He says into your headphone-covered ear.
As you press the trigger, the recoil thrusts you back, making you grind back into Simon abruptly, and he lets out a soft groan, and his hands fly back to your hips after you shoot. His noise almost distracting you from your perfect shot on the target, hitting the bullseye.
"Ha!" You yell out in excitement seeing your successful shot.
"Look Simon! bullseye!" You giggle and jump a little with joy, forgetting that your ass is literally pressed up against Simon's cock through his cargos. Your ass rubs against him as you hop and he ruts his hips into you and lets out a sharp moan, squeezing your hips again.
"Good job bunny." He says and smiles, and you remember the position you both are in, and you feel the shyness creep back into you.
You turn your head around to look up at him, still holding the weapon with both hands.
"Told you I could do it." You smirk up at him.
You notice Simon doesn't move from his position and how his hands don't leave their place on your hips. You're not oblivious to what he's doing either, but it's fun to tease him and act like you have no clue.
You go to turn the safety off, and as you do, you lean forward a bit more than needed just to press against him again, and you feel him twitch in his pants this time.
You turn around, and place the gun in his hands that left your hips for a second due to your new position.
"What's the matter Lieutenant, can't handle being wrong?" You tease.
Simon doesn't say anything and he goes to put the gun away. You turn back around to admire your perfect hit, and soon feel that familiar warmth behind you again as Simon presses himself into you again.
"Can't handle you looking so fucking good all the time and just being so perfect at everything." He says.
You laugh. "Was this your plan hm? To get me down here just to have me alone?" You ask.
"Maybe." Simon answers and smiles into your neck, hands going back to your hips again.
"Slut." You say.
Simon then bends you over the shelf of the shooting range booth as much as he can and he grabs your hair.
"Fuck you're such a tease aren't you?" He says.
You moan at the feeling of him manhandling you and pressing his weight into you.
"Only to you." You smile.
"God you're so fuckin small against me. And that fuckin shirt. Was practically eye fucking you all night." Simon continues to grind into your ass.
You let out a little whine at his words, pressing back into him, feeling him get fully hard this time.
"Yeah? show me what you were thinking of then Lieutenant." You say, and you know this was just the beginning of the night for the both of you.
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a/n: There could very possibly be a pt 2 to this. Lmk if y'all would want that 🫣
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