#OPERATION THUNDERBOLT | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cjlouwho · 3 months ago

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The Things I Cannot Change

I made this post a couple days ago then had to write a fic about it. Enjoy! Read below or on ao3.

“Wait a minute, you're datin' Kinard?” Gerrard asked mid-swing. He had taken Buck out to Topgolf as a thank you for saving his life. Although, Buck still wasn't sure that was actually his intention at the time.

“Yes, Sir,” Buck replied, steeling himself for whatever was going to come out of the man's mouth next.

“He got a sister or something?”

“No, Sir.”

“Didn't think so.” Gerrard planted his feet and swung, unsatisfied by where the ball landed. “So you're a... one of those?”

“Bisexual, yes.”

He rocked back on his heels. “Oh, you swing both ways? Interesting, interesting. You didn't hear about all that back in my day, Buckley. The world has definitely changed.”

“We've always existed,” Buck replied, a part of him wondering why he didn't shove Gerrard to the ground just a little bit harder.

They each took another turn before Gerrard spoke again. “Kinard,” he said, contemplatively. “Gotta say, don't see you two matching.”

Buck closed his eyes, inhaling deeply before turning to Gerrard. “Why's that?”

“Don't get me wrong, Buck, he was a great firefighter when he worked under me. Dotted his I's, crossed his T's. But he wasn't always that way. There's a lot about him...” He shook his head. “Hm. What am I saying, I'm sure you know everything about him anyway, right?”

“Y- yeah,” Buck replied. He knew Gerrard's mind games. Knew better than to fall for it. At least, that's what he kept telling himself.

He walked over to his golf carrier, straightening the firefighter club cover.

“That Operation Thunderbolt was something else, wasn't it?” Gerrard asked.

It took everything in Buck's power to not start asking questions. “Mhm.”

“Mistakes like that can't happen in the firefighting world. Told Kinard as much when he started. Damn, he was a mess back then.” Gerrard let out a laugh. “I whipped him into shape real good. Made him who he is.”

“Mm, yeah. I- I'm sure.”

“That Thunderbolt though,” Gerrard sucked in a breath. “Not good, Buckley. Not good.”

*****

“I think Gerrard is still playing mind games with me,” Buck said to Eddie as he plopped down on the couch. It was a rare shift they had without Gerrard, meaning they could actually sit down and relax.

“Of course he is,” Eddie replied, not bothering to look up from the magazine he was reading. “He took you golfing, Buck. And to lunch, twice.”

“Yeah, but it's more than that now. He, uh, he found out I'm dating Tommy.”

Eddie peered over his magazine at that, eying Buck closely. “He found out? How'd that happen?”

“I... kinda told him.”

“And you think that was a wise decision?”

Buck sat up straighter. “It was the only decision, Eddie. He asked if I was seeing anyone. I- I wasn't gonna lie and say no, or- or make it seem like I was seeing a woman just to make him-”

Eddie raised a hand to stop him. “Buck, not judging. Just asking.”

“Right, well,” he settled into the couch again, clearing his throat. “He knows now.”

“And?”

“And he said he didn't see us matching.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Big surprise there. You can't let him bother you, Buck. Gotta let that stuff roll right off ya.”

“Yeah, I- I did. But, he just... Do you think I know everything about Tommy?”

“I don't know,” Eddie answered, confused. “I'm not a fly on your wall, Buck, I don't know what you two talk about.”

“But, generally speaking, do you think I know him? Because, he knows all my stuff. Like, Daniel, and my parents, and the way I acted when I was younger to get attention. He knows all the different versions of Buck, ya know? And I just, I don't know if I know all his versions.”

“I don't think you ever really stop getting to know someone, Buck. You might think he knows all about you, but I'm sure you surprise him every day.”

Buck sighed. “I'm talking the big stuff, Eddie, not whether or not I enjoy whipped cream being licked off me-”

“Okay, no.”

“Eddie.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “I don't know what you want from me, Man. What are you trying to get at?”

“Gerrard mentioned something to me about Tommy that I've never heard of, and I have no idea if he's is lying or not.”

“If it's about Tommy, I'd say he's probably making something out to be worse than it is. Gerrard doesn't seem to fond of the guy.”

Buck nodded. “Yeah. No, no, yeah, I- I agree.”

“So, all good now?”

“Mhm. Yeah, all good. It was stupid anyway.” He grabbed a book from the coffee table, flipping to a random page. “Something about Tommy's time in the army. Operation Thunderbolt,” he shrugged. “I'm sure it's nothing.”

He wasn't sure what made him look up. He hadn't expected Eddie to respond anyway. But when he did glance over at him, he saw Eddie with his eyes practically frozen as he stared at a spot on the wall. Buck knew that look.

Avoidance.

“Eddie?”

Buck's voice seemed to break him out of his trance. He returned to his magazine, eyebrows furrowed. He clearly wasn't reading the article in front of him.

“Eddie?” Buck repeated, louder this time. “Do... Do you know something?”

There were a few more seconds of silence, Eddie's lips pursed as he tried to think of what to say. “I... Buck, it's not really my place.”

Now Buck was worried. “So it's true? There was an Operation Thunderbolt?”

“Buck, I'm not gonna do this,” Eddie said as he stood. He dropped his magazine down on the coffee table and went to walk away. “You need to leave it alone.”

Buck followed him. “Hey, I was your friend first,” he said. And yeah, maybe that was childish, but he couldn't find it in him to care.

Eddie swirled around, nearly knocking into Buck. “That's not fair, and it's not gonna work. If it's gonna bother you so much, talk to Tommy yourself. But I'm warning you, you need to leave it alone.”

When Eddie walked away, Buck didn't follow.

He trusted Eddie. Knew there had to be a good reason he wouldn't get into it.

He'd do what Eddie said.

He'd let it go.

He would.

He would really try to let it go.

*****

He couldn't let it go.

He headed to Tommy's place after work. Tommy had been promising to make his infamous chicken pot pie, the one everyone at the 217 was obsessed with, and tonight was the night.

The food was in the oven, and they were on the couch. Some show was playing on the TV, but it was mainly on for background noise while they made out.

It was kind of a tradition of theirs. Kiss while dinner cooked and then pick up where they left off after they were done eating.

But this time was different, because the words Operation Thunderbolt kept flashing through Buck's mind. Gerrard's voice telling Buck he was sure they knew everything about each other. Eddie's face when he brought up the operation. How closed off he became, how he avoided Buck for the rest of the day.

“Okay,” Tommy said, pulling away. “What's wrong?”

Buck tried to look dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”

“I did that thing with my tongue that always makes you jump in my lap and you didn't even react. What's wrong?”

Buck shook his head, straightening out his shirt. “N- Nothing. I just... I think I'm tired from work is all.”

Tommy tilted his head. “Evan.”

“It's nothing, really. Let's just,” Buck tugged at Tommy's shirt, trying to bring him in for another kiss, “let's keep going. I'll react this time.”

As Buck attempted to pull Tommy closer, Tommy leaned his head back and wrapped his hands around Buck's wrists, stopping him. “Evan, come on. Be honest with me.”

And those were quite possibly the worst set of words Tommy could have chosen, because it took Buck from worried to angry in under a second.

“Honest?” He practically jerked his hands away from Tommy. “You want me to be honest with you?”

“It is the best policy.”

Buck scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Of course you'd think this is a joke.”

“Evan, I'm not really sure what this is at all. I'd love it if you could fill me in though.”

“It's... It's,” Buck stood, hands on his hips, “It's a lot of things, Tommy.”

“Starting with...?”

“I went golfing with Gerrard a couple days ago.”

Tommy nodded. “I remember. You didn't talk much about it though. Did something happen?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it did.”

“Okay. What was it?”

“Doesn't matter,” Buck replied, beginning to pace back and forth. Just a few steps in one direction before turning back around.

“Obviously it does.”

“Eddie told me to let it go.”

“That doesn't seem to be happening. Come on, Evan.” Tommy stood, grasping onto Buck's arm to stop his pacing. “I'm serious. Talk to me.”

Buck stared him down. Looked deep into his eyes like he was trying to get direct access to his soul.

“Operation Thunderbolt.”

He'd never seen two words cause such an instant and dramatic shift in a person before. All the color drained from Tommy's face. His expression fell to nothing, mouth slightly open in shock. He looked like he was about to vomit, or pass out one.

A part of Buck wished he would have left it alone. Never let the words leave his mouth and dropped it like Eddie said.

The other part of Buck was still angry, and wanted to keep pushing his buttons. Wanted to find out why Eddie got to know parts of Tommy that Buck didn't get to know.

Tommy took a couple steps back, until his shins hit the couch and he could sit down again.

“E- Evan, I-”

“You know, I'm not even pissed that I don't know what the hell those words even mean. I'm pissed because I'm apparently the only one who doesn't know.”

Tommy's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. He stared straight ahead, unable to even look in Buck's direction. “I really... I can't talk about this right now, Evan.”

“You mean you can't talk about it with me. Apparently you can yack it up with Gerrard and Eddie.”

Tommy unclenched his fists, resting them over his bouncing knees. “Gerrard knows about that because it's why I was discharged from the army. It was on my record and he talked to me about it when I first started at the 118.”

Buck crossed his arms over his chest. “And Eddie?”

The question came out accusatory. He hated that Eddie knew a part of Tommy that he didn't.

“Eddie was in the army.” Tommy finally managed to look up at Buck. His eyes were red-rimmed, filled with an emotion Buck had never seen from the man before. “He understands it.”

“And I don't?”

“No,” Tommy replied honestly. “No, you don't, Evan. And I'm really glad you don't.”

“I've told you everything about me, Tommy! All the bad stuff, all the embarrassing stuff! I thought you'd done the same, but apparently I'm the only one really in this relationship.”

Tommy's eyes darkened. He stood back up, chest heaving. “Do not try and compare stealing fire engines for sex to what I did.”

“I don't even know what you did, Tommy!” Buck exclaimed, throwing his arms up in frustration. “Did you fly to the wrong place? Disobey orders? Get a slap on the wrist from a commanding officer? Someone find out you were-”

“I killed an entire family!” Tommy yelled, causing Buck to jump back ever so slightly. He'd never heard Tommy raise his voice before.

“Wh- What?”

“Thunderbolt was a codename for an operation in Iraq. We were supposed to take out a terrorist cell,” Tommy explained, speaking quickly. “Target was confirmed so I fired. Not even a second later I hear abort, abort, abort in my headset, but it was already too late. Intel was bad, I ended up directing a missile to an innocent family. Grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, and ten kids. I killed an entire bloodline, Evan.”

“T- Tommy-”

“They're just heat signatures on a monitor, Kinard, nothing more. That's what my commanding officer told me. But I couldn't let it go. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, I was a mess. They gave me an honorable discharge and a damn medal for killing those people.”

“I didn't-”

“Sometimes I think about it too much,” Tommy continued, ignoring Buck's interruptions. “One day Eddie was coming over for Muay Thai and I could barely get myself up off the couch. He knew something was wrong and we started talking. I don't have many friends, Evan, and Eddie is the first I've had that was in the army. It's easy to talk to him about this stuff because I don't feel like I have to explain myself over and over again or worry that he's going to think I'm a monster.”

“I don't think you're a monster.” Buck's voice was small. He felt like he was two feet tall.

“I can tell when a person looks at me differently, Evan. Saw it the second I told you.”

“Yeah, because I was surprised! It's a lot to throw on a person!”

“I didn't want to throw it on you! I was gonna tell you eventually, but I didn't feel ready yet. Didn't know how to explain it to you.” Tommy stood, his nervous energy taking over. He walked past Buck and headed for the door. “I can't do this right now. I need to go.”

“This is your house, Tommy. I'll go.”

“No, I need to get out.” He grabbed his coat and his keys. “Can you turn off the oven for me, please?”

“Tommy, come on, please don't leave mad. I'm sorry, okay?”

Tommy paused, the door half open. “Not mad, Evan. You definitely don't need to apologize to me. I just... I can't. You have a key. Lock up when you leave.”

*****

Buck gave Tommy twenty-four hours before sending a text.

Can I come over to talk please?

He waited thirty minutes before trying again.

Tommy, I don't think you're a monster, and I'd like to apologize to you in person. I know I threw that on you and I shouldn't have.

Still nothing.

So, he tried calling. It rang seven times before it went to voicemail.

“Tommy, I just wanna talk. I- I know I probably deserve the silent treatment but... I just wanna talk. Call me back, please.”

Buck was not known for his patience. It took everything within him to not get in his car and drive to Tommy's place right then and there.

But he didn't want to smother Tommy, at least not more than he already had. He waited an hour, then started getting ready for bed. He had to be at work early tomorrow, and if Tommy wasn't ready to talk yet, he'd respect that.

It was the least he could do.

When he woke up for work the next day and had no missed messages or calls from Tommy, he worried.

He had half expected to hear something from him during the night.

When he got to work, he made a beeline for Eddie, who was putting some things into his locker.

“Eddie, have you heard from Tommy in the past couple days?”

“Good morning to you too, Buck. My time off was great, thanks for asking.”

“Come on, I'm serious. Have you heard from him?”

Eddie closed his locker door and turned to Buck. “I thought you were spending your time off with him?”

“We had a... a thing.”

“A thing?”

“A fight,” Buck clarified. “Sort of. A fight-ish.”

“A... A fight-ish? Would this fight-ish have to do with Gerrard and a certain military operation?”

Buck shrugged. “Maybe. Possibly you too.”

“Me?!” Eddie exclaimed. “Why me?”

“Listen, I got a little angry over the fact you seem to know Tommy better than I do and I may have expressed as much, okay? And yes, I mentioned the operation, and kind of forced him into explaining, which may have sent him spiraling. He said he wasn't mad, but he has a way of saying that instead of letting me apologize for things and now he won't answer me and I'm afraid he's actually mad or-”

“Breathe,” Eddie interrupted, patting Buck on the shoulder. “I haven't heard from him. Honestly, though, if he told you about Thunderbolt, he's probably not doing great right now.”

Buck flopped down onto one of the benches, his legs stretching out in front of him. “I really screwed up, Eddie.”

“I'm the king of screw ups, Man,” Eddie replied, sitting beside him. “You haven't done anything that can't be fixed. For what it's worth, he was always planning on telling you. It's just a tough one for him to talk about without spiraling.”

Buck glared over at him. “You're really not helping.”

“You've got a twelve today too, right?”

Buck nodded.

“I'll text him, see if he answers. You head over after work. It'll work out. Don't worry.”

*****

Worry was all Buck did the entire day. Especially after Eddie sent his third text and got no response. Even he thought it was strange, which made Buck worry even more.

He couldn't get to Tommy's fast enough after his shift. He hurried over, not hesitating to use his key to get inside.

“Tommy?” he called out apprehensively. “Are you here?”

He knew Tommy had to be there. His car was in the driveway and he always left his door unlocked when he went for a run, much to Buck's dismay.

He headed for the living room first, then the kitchen.

“Tommy?” he called again before heading to the bedroom.

No lights were on in the house, and the sun had nearly set, making it difficult to see. When he pushed open the cracked bedroom door, he could barely see the outline of Tommy lying in bed, covers pulled up to his neck. His blackout curtains were drawn, making the room nearly pitch black.

Buck entered the room cautiously. “Tommy, y- you awake?”

“Mmm,” he grunted. “Yeah.”

“I've been worried,” he said, toeing off his shoes before crawling onto the bed. “I tried calling and texting. Eddie did too.”

“Haven't been by my phone,” Tommy mumbled into his pillow.

Buck settled into his usual side of the bed, keeping some space between them. “Is this... Is this about our fight? I really am sorry for pushing you, Tommy.”

“Not mad,” he replied, managing to roll over and curl into Buck's side. “Told you I wasn't mad yesterday.”

“It... It's been two days, Babe.”

He rested a hand over Buck's stomach, gripping the material of his shirt. “Oh. Really?”

“Yeah.” Buck wrapped an arm around Tommy's back, letting his nails scratch up and down his spine. “I- Tommy, what's going on?”

“Tired.” He nestled his head further into Buck's waist. “Brain was thinking too much.”

“Oh.” Buck didn't know what to say. Didn't know the right words to make him feel better. He'd never seen Tommy like this before. It made him feel overwhelmed, and sad, and a little bit terrified. “You wanna talk about it?”

Tommy gripped even tighter. He was silent for a moment, breathing against Buck's body before he spoke quietly. “I killed people, Evan.”

God, Buck wanted to cry. “I- I know.”

“A whole family. Kids. I did that.”

“You didn't know, Tommy. It's not your fault.”

“That doesn't matter to them. They don't get to have a life because of me.”

Buck wanted to hold onto Tommy tighter, pull him all the way into his arms and hold him until the pain would go away.

But Tommy withdrew before Buck could even get his other arm around him. He turned back onto his other side, pulling the covers up until just his eyes and nose stuck out from under them. “I'm just tired, Hon. I'll be okay.”

*****

The next thing Tommy knew, he was being shook awake. The room was still dark, and he was pretty sure not much time had passed. “What? What time's it?”

“A little after eight,” Buck whispered, giving his shoulder another shake. “Get up, please.”

Tommy sighed. “Why? M'tired.”

“Because you have company.”

“I do?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Can you tell them to leave, Evan?”

“No. Get up.”

Tommy groaned, but forced himself to get out of bed. He took the hand Buck had held out for him, and let himself be led to the living room.

“Hey,” Eddie said from his spot on the couch. “You look like crap.”

“Eddie?” Tommy glanced back and forth between him and Buck. “What are you doing here?”

“Your boyfriend here called me and said you could use a friend.”

Buck gave Tommy's hand a squeeze to get his attention. “You're right,” he said. “I don't know the right thing to do or say to make you feel better. But I think he can.”

“Evan, I-”

Buck brought a hand to Tommy's face, brushing a thumb over his cheek. He leaned in and gave him a peck on the lips. “I love you, Tommy, okay? All of you.”

“I don't know what to say, Evan.”

“Say pizza's on the way,” Eddie interrupted. “I'm starving.”

Buck laughed, rolling his eyes as he turned back to Eddie. “Pizza is on the way. I'm gonna head out to the gym for a couple hours.”

He went to let go of Tommy's hand, but Tommy pulled him back in for a hug. “Come back after?” he asked, his mouth brushing against Buck's ear.

Buck nodded. “Of course.”

“Okay.” Tommy pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Evan. I love you.”

Buck smiled, giving Tommy's hand a final squeeze before letting go. “See you two later. Save me a piece of pizza.”

“We'll see!” Eddie yelled out as Buck headed out the front door. He nodded at Tommy, who was still standing in the middle of the living room. “So, you ready to talk?”

Tommy only briefly hesitated before he walked over and sat on the opposite end of the couch, curling his knees up to his chest. “Yeah. Yeah, let's talk.”

#bucktommy #911 #tommy kinard #evan buckley #i did not fully read this over please excuse any errors #oh also #eddie diaz #and #vincent gerrard

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miabebe · 6 months ago

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Camp Seventeen: Chronicles

Dive into the profiles of the members of Camp Seventeen!

Name: Choi Seungcheol (Coups, Cheol)

Descent: Son of Zeus, King of Gods, God of Sky, Thunder and Lightning

Symbol: Thunderbolt

Role: Camp Leader - Sets rules and assigns roles in camp to everyone. Responsible for overseeing team members and ensuring discipline on camp.

Residence: White marbled mansion, surrounded by oak trees, located on higher ground than everyone else so he can keep an eye on camp.

Companion: Eagle called Zephyr who is often seen patrolling the skies to protect camp. Seungcheol has a special whistle call to make it land on his shoulder.

Profession: Meteorologist - He has a very good understanding of the weather and can accurately predict changes. Although he does not enjoy his job as he despises working in spaces where he does not have control aka isn't the boss. On the orders of his father he’s also pursuing a degree in astronomy.

Fun facts: Seungcheol’s anger is quite destructive - surprise, surprise, it thunders when he’s mad. His hair was black when he was born but streaks of gold started to appear whenever he used his powers and now it is fully golden blonde. Seungcheol also has an insane appetite and is also always making sure everyone eats well.

Name: Yoon Jeonghan (Han, Angel Boy)

Descent: Son of Athena, Goddess of Wisdom, Warfare and Handicraft

Symbol: Medusa’s head

Role: Quest strategist - Studies warfare strategies of other camps and develops a plan of action for his team. Assigns roles in Quests to all members.

Residence: A tree house nestled on top of an olive tree that surprisingly no one can seem to climb other than the man himself. No one on camp has seen the inside of his house though all have tried - it is believed to house the rare luxuries he collects without anyone’s knowledge.

Companion: Bratty owl called Nox that only comes out at night, god knows where it goes off to in the day. (Dino often has to go on his knees and beg it to help deliver letters)

Profession: Lawyer - He originally wanted to be a teacher however his level of intelligence was too high for a kindergarten job. In fact, he’s so intelligent that he often has to downplay his smartness at work. The only reason he enjoys being a lawyer is because of the cunningness the profession requires.

Fun facts: Being the son of a virgin goddess makes Jeonghan a rare demigod - there’s very few known children of Athena. He’s also the camp prankster and though he gets on everyone’s nerves with his jokes, all the members adore him. He’s incredibly scared of spiders and refuses to visit Australia for the same reason.

Name: Hong Jisoo (Joshua, Joshie)

Descent: Son of Aphrodite, Goddess of Love, Sex and Beauty

Symbol: White swan.

Role: Camp manager - Responsible for all non training related operations on camp - meals, residences etc. Conflict resolving between members.

Residence: A small cottage by the lake that was personally crafted by his mother's helpers hence it has all her favorite things in it - red roses, seashells, sea foam etc. To no one’s surprise, there are also mirrors everywhere in his house.

Companion: Joshua once went to a bird shop to adopt a pet but came back with nearly every single dove, pigeon and sparrow because they would not stop screeching in his absence. Now they go everywhere with him - he’s a mini snow white.

Profession: Writer - Joshua writes romance novels often relying on real life experiences of his many affairs. His books are world famous under the pen name Mr.G (apparently short for gentleman) and they always have happy endings.

Fun facts: When he’s not writing, Joshua loves to make his own accessories, especially with pearls. He also loves reading other’s writings - particularly fanfictions of his characters. He is also a very good singer, often playing the guitar during evening campfires.

Name: Wen Junhui (Jun, Moon Junnie)

Descent: Son of Demeter, Goddess of Agriculture, Harvest and Seasons

Symbol: Cornucopia

Role: Camp Farmhand - Growing and harvesting crops needed for cooking. Cooks dinner for all members. (Breakfasts and lunches are each member’s personal responsibility, though Jun insists on packing lunch for members who go to work.)

Residence: A small farmhouse in the middle of his fields at the foot of the hills. It’s got windmills and creeks and bales of hay - very picturesque

Companion: A two feet long rough green snake called Fluffy. Unlike its name, it's skinny and clingy and is wrapped around Jun at all times.

Profession: Acupuncturist - works in a small clinic at the edge of the city and is quite renowned for his skill. Although looking at how most of his patients are young women with barely significant health issues, maybe he’s more renowned for his looks.

Fun facts: He's the one that most members from other camps have a crush on - he’s always having to run away from fawning girls during quest season. He loves adventure sports and often goes off on his own to do something outdoors. Hates the city, never visits it unless he has no choice.

Name: Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi, Tiger)

Descent: Son of Dionysus, God of Wine, Festivity and Theatre

Symbol: Pinecone

Role: Camp PR - Establishing social connections with other camps. Entertaining guests who come to camp to form treaties.

Residence: Luxurious purple and green mansion which looks a little rustic from the outside with all the grapevines and ivy but on the inside it's the very epitome of lavishness.

Companion: Horang the leopard tiger - He had requested his father to gift him a tiger but his drunk old man sent him a leopard and Hoshi refuses to accept it. He often dresses it in a tiger outfit so it's safe to say Horang is actually quite sick of him.

Profession: Club owner - Hoshi owns a small underground club which has an even more underground secret room only for demigods. There he *cough* illegally *cough* sells his own brewed alcohol which is a big hit and makes him big money.

Fun facts: Makes and sells alcohol but does not drink as he cannot handle it at all. During his free time, he either studies the art of wine making or takes dance workshops in the city because he’s passionate about it. The loudest possible introvert you will meet with the largest possible social circle - literally no one hates him (except Horang)

Name: Jeon Wonwoo (Wonu, Jeon-sshi)

Descent: Son of Hades, King of the Underworld, God of Death and Riches

Symbol: Black Ram

Role: Camp patrolling - Patrols and secures camp borders at night. Not exactly his job but somehow always ends up doing the dishes.

Residence: He lives in a cave underground which is quite high tech and equipped, like the bat cave. He’s got all sorts of computers and screens set up everywhere for the ease of his job.

Companion: None. Wonwoo’s father gifted him Cerberus, a 3 headed puppy but Wonwoo gave it to Mingyu after he lost his own pet in a Quest. Natalie for some reason, likes to follow around Wonwoo like moth to a light.

Profession: No one knows really. It’s some big secret government job that he rarely goes to the headquarters for - mostly works from the comfort of his own home at whatever time is convenient for him.

Fun facts: He’s extremely rich - his job makes him a lot of money but also his father keeps sending him a lot of gifts, mainly gemstones. Children of Hades tend to be loners and do not join camps but Seungcheol fought tooth and nail to get Wonwoo into Camp Seventeen. Wonwoo loves to bike and often takes his motorcycle, Night Fury, to the countryside for long drives.

Name: Lee Jihoon (Woozi, Uji)

Descent: Son of Apollo, God of Sun, Music and Healing

Symbol: Lyre

Role: Camp Patrolling - Patrolling and securing camp at daytime. Also responsible for the healing wounded members

Residence: Woozi and Vernon own neighboring twin houses - Woozi’s is white and gold and is filled with his instruments and music equipment

Companion: A pure white cow which is named….Cow. It was a reward that he got in one of the Quests years ago and its milk has medicinal properties and helps him to heal members. Cow also has a little calf called Daisy which is the common camp pet - it’s fond of all the members and is very playful with everyone, especially Vernon’s hounds.

Profession: Music producer - He’s very good with sound and can play most musical instruments. Sometimes DJs at Hoshi’s club when Hyungwon, Jeonghan’s little crush, isn’t available

Fun facts: Woozi works from his own home studio so he barely ever leaves camp. He also doesn’t attend many social events unless really necessary. Spends longer hours than most members in physical and combat training - members suspect he considers himself a little weak since he’s the shortest and tend to hype him up at every given chance. He has the most beautiful long golden locks that he loves to style in various buns and braids.

Name: Xu Minghao (Myungho, Hao)

Descent: Son of Ares, God of War, Battle-lust and Courage

Symbol: War helmet

Role: Camp trainer - In charge of training members of combat. Assigns weapons and maintains the ones stored in reserves.

Residence: Brick House at the edge of the training field with his personal gym and simulation combat room.

Companion: None. Minghao does not feel any emotional attachment towards any living thing.

Profession: Tattoo artist - Minghao always liked things that were rebellious in nature and he’s a very talented artist so he decided to combine the two as his profession.

Fun facts: He’s one of the best warriors the world has ever seen - he's trained in many camps before he decided Camp Seventeen was it for him. The camp lost two Quest seasons because Minghao had to fight for the Amazonions as a favour to his dad but now he has the eternal support of the entire tribe. Although his father is the very symbol of rage and fury, Minghao tends to be quite calm and meditates often to keep inner peace.

Name: Kim Mingyu (Gyu, Big Boy)

Descent: Son of Hepheastus, God of Fire, Forges and Blacksmiths

Symbol: Smith's hammer

Role: Weapons master - he makes all the weapons and equipment for the members. Handles all engineering related matters on camp as well.

Residence: Has the only two storey house on camp - ground floor is his personal forgery and above it is his residence which the most automated, high tech place ever - seriously, he’s made a machine for everything

Companion: He used to have a baby donkey but lost it in a quest. (last it was seen was when Hoshi took a photo sitting on it) then Wonwoo gave him his dog because he was lonely.

Profession: Firefighter - being the son of the god of fire helps with that. Plus Mingyu is always looking to help people in need so it was a no brainer for him when the time came for him to pick a job. However now he’s considering leaving the job to become a chef

Fun facts: Mingyu is the tallest seventeen member so it's always hard to get gear for him - it's always too small or too tight. Mingyu isn’t particularly a fan of biking but knows it's one way he can spend time with Wonwoo so he built his own bike, FireBolt. Since the terrain on camp is too uneven for a bike, he built it to be able to transform into a mechanical bull at the click of a button allowing him to ride it around everywhere no camp, inducing mini earthquakes as it runs.

Name: Lee Seokmin (Dk, Min)

Descent: Son of Poseidon, God of Seas, Storms and Horses

Symbol: Water waves

Residence: He has a boat house in the middle of the lake which the members love to use as a party yacht much to his dismay.

Companion: Pegasus, a big stallion actually meant for battle but in reality it is a scaredy cat. Often runs the opposite side of combat regardless of Seokmin’s instructions

Role: Camp trainer - in charge of morning warm ups and drills. Helps members with general fitness and health.

Profession: Surf instructor - he spends pretty much all his time in and around sea because that is where he feels strongest. Often helps capsized boats and trapped animals though he’s not supposed to interfere and falls in trouble because of his good nature

Fun facts: Seokmin was deadly scared of water as a child and would not even go near it. His father personally trained him and prepared his son for demigod life. He is one of the only members who has lived in Olympus for a while in his younger days. He's incredibly sweet and considerate though most of Poseidon’s many many sons tend to be arrogant and rude

Name: Boo Seungkwan (Uri boo, Kwan)

Descent: Son of Hera, Queen of Gods, Goddess of Marriage, Family and Women

Symbol: Diadem

Role: Camp PR - Like Hoshi, he too establishes alliances and treaties with camps. Often the messenger to Olympus because his mother is queen - loved by all the Gods (except Zeus)

Residence: A Greek style house that Hera had instructed him to construct right in the middle of camp because she wants him to be the center of everything. Seungkwan dislikes it and often bunks with Vernon who’s the only one who hasn’t shooed him away when he approached.

Companion: Patricia, the peacock that his mother gifted him but it's a bit too high end and spoilt to be in a place like camp.

Profession: Wedding planner - Seungkwan loved weddings since he was a child mostly because he always saw his mother at one when she came to bless the unions. He decided to start his own company after nitpicking about how everyone was getting them all wrong and wanting to teach the world the right ways again.

Fun facts: If it's not already obvious, he’s a mummy’s boy. Though Hera is the very symbol of faithfulness, the growing number of her husband’s children prompted her to have children of her own, Seungkwan being the one she’s most fond of. He’s the latest addition to camp and within days of arriving, he had already boosted Seventeen’s image beyond their expectations. He runs a secret instagram page for Camp Seventeen who’s followers are mostly girls from other camps, because the pictures are mostly the members shirtless.

Name: Chwe Hansol (Vernon, Bonon)

Descent: Son of Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt, Wilderness, and Chastity

Symbol: Wolf

Role: Camp patrolling - along with Woozi, he too patrols the camp at daytime. Hunts wild animals which tend to find their way into the camps.

Residence: Twin houses with Woozi, his is silver and white and has a large enclosure for his hounds. His house shines according to the cycle of the moon - brightest at full moon, almost invisible at no moon.

Companion: Fifteen hounds that are descendants of the hounds that his mother hunts. He can’t remember fifteen names so he’s named as the numbers - One, Two, Three, so on.

Profession: Video gamer developer - Vernon had a lot of experience as a child when he was caste as Tv show host. Though, as much as he’s used to the entertainment industry, he likes to steer clear from it hence venturing into game development

Fun facts: Vernon is also the child of a virgin goddess and hence also a rare demigod. He’s famous for his chiseled features and is often babied by the Hunters of Artemis. Demigods aren’t allowed to meet their mortal families after initiating into camps but Vernon always sneaks out to meet his sister Sofia who he is very close to and fond of.

Name: Lee Chan (Dino, Maknae)

Descent: Son of Hermes, Messenger of Gods, God of Trade, Luck and Travel

Symbol: Caduceous

Role: Camp messenger - Much like his father, Dino plays the active role of camp transport-in-charge. Any and all deliveries are his job - even when Mingyu needs a ton of iron to weld.

Residence: A large camp tent at the entrance of camp - When he first came he claimed he wanted it to get ‘camp feels’ now he hates it but Cheol won’t let him change it.

Companion: A tortoise named Speedy which is as slow as he is fast. Always has to run, then wait for it to catch up, then run again and wait again and so on.

Profession: Cab driver - doesn’t particularly enjoy the job but it makes things easier for him. He says he’s saving up to go to med school one day but Woozi swears Dino said chest muscles are called pecs because they are short for spectacular so yeah, that’s probably not happening

Fun facts: He’s a kleptomaniac - he’s always stealing stuff from the members, his house is full of such artifacts. He’s also the most in touch with his demigod half siblings - the sons of Hermes are a tight bunch. Being the youngest in camp means he’s most teased but also most adored - camp messenger isn’t even a legit job, they just give him as little work as possible.

Name: [ ]

Descent: Daughter of Hestia, Goddess of Hearth, Home and Hospitality

Symbol: Fire

Role: Not yet assigned

Residence: Not yet built

Companion: Natalie the piglet who she found stuck in the trashcan one day and decided to raise. Natalie is a fledgling meaning its a creature of Olympus and does not follow time in the mortal world

Profession: Studying her last year of Architecture

Fun facts: She's the exact opposite of everything her mother is known for - very confrontational, not hospitable and not homely at all. Most Demigods are discovered when they are 16 but she made it to 25 undetected, no one knows how. Mingyu was the one who found her because of an accident that landed her in a lawsuit - Olympus assigned Camp Seventeen to her under the suggestion of the oracle.

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usafphantom2 · 3 months ago

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Four different proposals to convert P-47 Thunderbolt with early centrifugal compression flow jet engines in 1944.

Who knew! Design concept given up for F-84 Thunderjet started 1944 first flown 1946 and operational 1947 but not fully accepted until 1949. Much smaller aircraft.

@CcibChris via X

#p 47 thunderbolt #f 84 thunderjet #republic aviation #fighter bomber #aircraft #usaaf #usaf #aviation #ww2 #cold war aircraft #aviation military #aviation military pics #military aircraft #military aviation

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thatsrightice · 7 months ago

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are there any excerpts from Crosby’s memoir about Gale you could post, if that’s alright? I’m really curious about him!

Thank you for the ask, I am more than happy to oblige! Just as a little note, I think both Egan and Cleven were nicknamed Bucky, but the show made one Buck and one Bucky so that people wouldn’t get them confused. Also, Crosby never really mentions Cleven without mentioning Egan which is kind of a testament to their relationship. There’s a lot of them btw so most of them will be under the cut! :)

"You fly tomorrow," Bucky Elton told us. He was Squadron Operations Officer. Both leaders had the same nickname. In the Group we had Bucky Egan, Bucky Elton, and Bucky Cleven. Cleven and Egan were best friends, top flyers, devil-may-care. All the 100th pilots wanted to be like them.

"What I can't really handle is that when Cleven and Egan were still around, the men were happier. With them gone, the heart of the 100th has stopped beating." - Harry Crosby

Then come the four squadron commanders, with Bucky Egan and Bucky Cleven together. They, more than any other of our leaders, had the real Air Corps raunch, their hats cocked on the backs of their heads. Egan's white fleece-lined jacket is his trademark. They both are wearing white scarves.

Egan and Cleven trade quips with their men as they walk forward. I don't normally use the word "debonair," but that's what they are. Bucky Cleven and Bucky Egan are like what their men saw in the movie I Wanted Wings. The men wanted leaders like that. Cleven's real first name is Gale, and Egan's is John, but I never heard either name used.

The two Buckys talk like Hollywood. The first time I ever saw Cleven was at the Officers' Club. For some reason he wanted to talk with me, and he said, "Taxi over here, Lootenant."

The Group Navigator [Omar Gonzalez] is a first lieutenant from San Antonio, Texas. Because of his skin color and his quiet diffidence, he doesn't belong up there with the boisterous, swaggering Egan and Cleven. Egan calls him "Pancho." Cleven calls him "Omar the Tent Maker."

When we all assembled on the airfield for parade, our lines were straggly and our men out of step. When the squadrons stood by for inspection, Colonel LeMay didn't see Cleven. When he asked where the squadron commander was, the first sergeant responded, "He took to the woods." This did not surprise LeMay who had heard from our previous commanding officers, Turner and Huglin, that Cleven and Egan were at the root of the 100th's raunchy discipline.

On the next day, Bucky even gathered up the enlisted men who worked at 350th Squadron Headquarters and told them he was going to make up for the indignity they had suffered the day before. He took them out to the flight line and loaded them up in an old stripped-down B-17E, which our group brass used for joyrides and taxi service. Since it had no guns or armaments, it was light and Cleven could fly it like a P-39 fighter plane.

Apparently Cleven had phoned some of his pilot training classmates who were now assigned to P-47's and arranged a surprise. The E was hardly off the runway when it was "attacked" by three American fighters.

For the next twenty minutes, Cleven-whose superb skill as a pilot no one questioned-wrung that old plane out as though it was a Piper Cub. He twisted and turned and plunged, all in a simulated dog fight with his three fighter pilot chums. The three Thunderbolts buzzed the 17 and came within inches of it.

The ground-duty enlisted men in the plane probably never forgot that flight, but it hardly was what the 100th needed at that time. When the fight was reported by the British Home Guard observation team, the report did the 100th no good.

The "Two Buckys," John Egan, commander of the 418th Squadron, and Gale Cleven, of the 350th, were the heart of the original 100th-dashing, undisciplined, superb pilots, exactly what Hollywood expected them to be. When they were shot down, even over Bremen (October 8, 1943), and Egan over Münster (October 10), the 100th was devastated-and a new era began.

We knew that Bucky Cleven's plane had been hit badly just before Regensburg, and we had heard that he and the pilot, Norman Scott, had differed about what to do. When we got on the ground in Africa, there seemed to be no tension between the two of them, and Scott was laughing and joking just like the rest of us.

According to the Lay report, after the hits, the pilot had pleaded with Cleven to abandon ship. When Cleven refused to ring the bell, Scott had gotten up and started to leave alone. At this point, "although the odds were heavily against him, Major Cleven's reply was as follows: 'You son of a bitch, you sit there and take it."

Lay's report continued, "These strong words were heard over interphone and had a magical effect on the rest of the crew, and they stuck to their guns."

For this, Colonel Lay recommended Bucky Cleven for the Congressional Medal of Honor. The citation was scaled down a bit, and he did get the Distinguished Service Cross.

This story electrified the base, a triumph for the group's most admired twosome. Already Cleven and Egan were the 100th Group heroes. New crews almost immediately began to talk like the two squadron commanders. In the Officers' Club or at Group Ops, young flyers circled around them, and watched the two fly missions with their hands. Enlisted men adored them. Pilots wanted to fly the way the two Buckys did. Back in the days before anyone knew what a role model was, Bucky Cleven and Bucky Egan were the role models of the 100th.

When the story appeared in The Saturday Evening Post it made Bucky Cleven a national hero.

From the tail: "High squadron lead gone. There it goes."

It can't be. Bucky Cleven is in that plane. He is indestructible.

No German alive could get him.

The British lorry drives off with our profuse thanks. Just as we climb into one of the base personnel carriers, Colonel Harding drives up in his sedan, with Bucky Egan behind him in another car.

A volley of words.

"We thought you had it!"

"We got reports that four chutes got out.”

"Did you see Bucky Cleven get it?"

We take the enlisted men to their quarters. Since we have not eaten since morning, we need food. We look at our watches: 1930 hours. The Flying Mess will be closed. We head for the Officers' Club.

As we enter, officers, ground and air alike, look up. Stunned.

"It's Blakely's crew!"

Pandemonium. Every man in the club, even the enlisted waiters, rush up and pound us on the back. At least half of them offer us their drinks.

"We thought you bought it!"

"They reported four chutes."

"Did you see Major Cleven blow up?"

Bucky Cleven, the impervious, the invincible, was gone. If he couldn't make it, who could? His good friend, Bucky Egan, didn't talk much that night.

The loss of Bucky Cleven over Bremen and Bucky Egan over Münster seemed to have cut the heart right out of the the 100th. Without them the 100th was a shadow.

Bucky Cleven and Bucky Egan, the two squadron leaders who went down over Bremen and Münster, were the very soul of Romanticism. They hated discipline. I told Landra that discipline was called "chicken shit." Like the two Buckys, our pilots all wanted to be dashing individualists.

Jack Kidd, John Bennett, and Tom Jeffrey showed us how to win a war. Bucky Cleven and Bucky Egan gave the 100th its personality. Bob Rosenthal helped us want to win the war.

#ask #bucky egan #buck cleven #masters of the air #mota #real mota #Harry Crosby #quotes #a wing and a prayer #book quotes #these are so good tho

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rwpohl · 8 months ago

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mivtsa yonatan, menahem golan 1977

youtube

beyond the clouds: jonathan livingstone seagull, hall bartlett 1973

#mivtsa yonatan #operation thunderbolt #menahem golan #1977 #sybil danning #klaus kinski #7 days in entebbe #jonathan livingston seagull #hall bartlett #1973 #neil diamond #die möwe jonathan #la marche de l’empereur #oh jonathan oh jonathan!#landmann #mogadischu

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buckets-and-trees · 1 year ago

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The Pool Party Op

Characters/Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!Reader, Sharon Carter Word Count: 1.2k Summary: Post TFATWS. The Power Broker hasn't made any major plays, but finding out who they are is still a priority. Bucky has been working on and off with Sharon to track them down as there are potential leads. This mission has them attending a luxury pool party in The Maldives.

Content Warnings: sexual situations (kissing, vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration), strong language

Logistical Notes: Filling my twelfth square for Bucky Barnes Bingo @buckybarnesbingo - Y5 "Pool Party" - and Hot Bucky Summer Week 8 - "How did you meet?" undercover mission, high stakes op.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

“You’re sure that–“

“Yes, I’m sure, Bucky,” Sharon cut him off over the comms. “I’ve told you a hundred times. Everyone here lives in the grey area and after everything you were technically responsible for leading with the Thunderbolts team, the status of you as the reformed and squeaky-clean good boy is not a widely held belief anymore.”

“I know you managed to get me on the Power Broker’s guest list, but I still think this is too easy,” Bucky murmured loud enough for Sharon to hear.

“Tell me when you haven’t been able to trust me.”

He sighed. “I know.”

“And if things go sideways and you have to go full Winter Soldier mode on someone, all the better for convincing them you’re back in the Big Bad Business.”

“It just feels weird to know I’ll be strutting around with the arm on full display.”

“So that’s the real problem. It’s a pool party. People will look at your arm, but then your abs are going to steal the show.”

Bucky could feel the immediate flush of heat rushing up his neck, over his ears, and cheeks.

“I’ll get you in. The plan will work. Just be ready to improvise – I only told you half the plan because I knew you would argue with me over the rest of it. I’m going radio silent now so you can’t bitch at me and because that was already part of the plan anyway. Make good choices, Buck. I’ll check in with you in twenty and see you at the extraction point in forty-five.”

Bucky closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and took a few deep breaths. This was, in fact, not the first time Sharon had gone rogue on a mission, but he did trust the track record they had together. He would never tell her a part of him reveled in the challenge that went with working blind or having to improvise. She didn’t need that kind of encouragement.

And he trusted her, which was more than he could say for most of the people he got assigned to work with or who assigned him to missions these days.

Bucky was always wary of putting operatives who were basically civilians into the field during missions, but he understood that sometimes the objective required it to ensure they achieved their objective.

Sharon had told him that much – that he would be working with a desk agent and providing cover for the mission in addition to actual security and extraction if it came to it. She said she would be talking to his assignment when he arrived, they would make eye contact, and then Sharon would move out so Bucky could move in.

They still didn’t have credible leads on the identity of the Power Broker, but merely being at the party, Sharon was going to mingle and grab facial scans for as many people as she could with the photo-contacts she’d been issued while Bucky assisted with the other key objective.

The Power Broker’s communications were behind an impenetrable wall that the team at the CIA had been unable to hack for over a year, so when they got a tip the Power Broker was hosting a glamorous end of season pool party at their luxury vacation home – or in this case, summer fortress. The play was to bring one of the CIA’s top hackers to a party Sharon was tapping into some of her old Madripoor experience to get them on the list for, and access and bleed whatever information they could from inside the system.

That hacker was you.

He sighed when he saw it was going to be a standard meet-cute play, sneak into the house to find someplace more private, and clearly that place would be the home office. He excused himself from the present company he’d been an idle party to conversation with and moved to the steps out of the pool, grabbed a towel from the rack, and wrapped it around his waist, then grabbed two drinks off a tray one of the servers was circulating around the crowd and approached you.

The plan was good. He didn’t like it at first, but he was sold on it now.

His lips on your neck, his right hand cupping your mound and his left hand palming the delightful weight of your breast in his left hand, grinding his hips against your ass, this plan was perfect.

The soft, broken whimpers escaping your mouth were satisfying, indulging a hunger he didn’t know he’d been suppressing until it was finally unleashed in this moment. Now he didn’t want to stop.

It seemed like you didn’t want him to stop either.

The person who had come to check on the room and “caught” them was long gone, wouldn’t be coming back any time soon, and if they did they seemed too mortified to do more than check for noises and maybe knock on the door, but Bucky could tell they wouldn’t open the door again, so… he could stop, but there seemed no reason not to carry on.

He pressed hot kisses along the column of your throat from the base up to just below your ear, then paused to ask, “This okay?”

“Yes, yes,” you managed.

“You want–“

“More,” you moaned, putting your left hand over his to encourage him to continue his ministrations there, and clutched at his bicep with the other.

He didn’t need more encouragement than that. Bucky sunk two fingers into your slick cunt, and you rocked up against him. He smiled and licked the shell of your ear.

“Bucky…”

Your tone seemed almost hesitant, so he slowed for a moment. “What is it?”

“I mean more, Bucky,” you said.

“Fuck,” he groaned as you pushed back roughly against his hard cock. “You can have it, doll.”

Your hands reached back to tug his swim trunks down. He took over, pushing them down his thighs, and you hooked your own fingers into your swim bottoms to drag them down, and you leaned forward, resting your forearms against the desk, presenting your pretty pussy for him.

Fuck.

Okay.

He lined up the head of his cock with your slit, then pushed in and gripped your hips. The first full thrust he took slowly, sinking in balls deep. You were such a shy thing, and half of the fun once he’d discovered that had been flustering you, standing too close – because he needed to in order to keep the cover intact, the intentional but not strictly necessary touches, and now to have you decidedly not shy any longer as he pumped in and out of you.

He could do more missions like this.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #hotbuckysummer2023 #buckybarnesbingo2023 #bbb2023 #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #aspen wrote something

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soldierporn · 4 months ago

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Final Flight of the Bulldogs.

DAVIS-MONTHAN AIR FORCE BASE, Ariz. 21 JUN 2024.

Photos by Senior Airman Vaughn Weber.

Story by Airman 1st Class Jhade Herrera and Senior Airman Vaughn Weber. Edited by R. Etzweiler.

The 354th Fighter Squadron and 354th Fighter Generation Squadron have flown their last A-10C Thunderbolt II sortie.

The fini flight was flown by Lt. Col. Patrick "Meat" Chapman, commander of the 354th Fighter Squadron.

The inactivations of the 354th FS and 354th FGS come as their assigned A-10s are sent to The Boneyard. The base makes way for the planned arrival of the 492nd Special Operations Wing.

The Bulldogs last deployed to Al Dhafra Air Base from October 2023 to April 2024 in support of the first AFFORGEN cycle and were instrumental in developing attack leaders and deploying combat AirPower.

“Our most recent deployment was an operationally challenging one,” said Chapman. “I'm proud of the ops and the maintenance team for stepping up to meet those challenges, which ultimately protected coalition lives during a very turbulent time in the Middle East.”

As part of the inactivation, assignment teams will work with pilots and maintainers to determine new assignments based on what is best for each member’s career development, to include transitioning to different weapons systems.

[Note from the Curator: The mustache decal on the nose of this Warthawg is a Pedros (pararescue jumpers) designation. That means during its deployments it worked with ground forces during CSAR missions.]

#The Slaying of the Hawgs #Hildisvini #US Air Force #a 10 warthog #a 10 thunderbolt ii #I guess there's gonna be a pig roast?

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sjsmith56 · 4 months ago

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The Recruit

Summary: A former special forces operative is recruited by Bucky and Sam, who have to get past her trust issues first.

Length: 4.6 K

Characters: Named OFC, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Yelena Belova

Warnings: PTSD, abandonment issues, anger issues, trust issues, reference to capture and sexual assault, alcohol abuse.

Author notes: I’m not sure where this came from but I wanted to explore Bucky trying to help someone with similar issues to his. The name of the OFC is a deliberate choice as it establishes that she has had a chip on her shoulder for a long time. Takes place after Thunderbolts* and Captain America: Brave New World.

It had been two days since I brought the woman and her daughter, victims of domestic abuse by her mobster husband, to the safe house. Two days since I was ordered to keep going while the Avengers confronted his posse of men who were tracking us. Two days since I last wondered how I ended up as an agent with the Avengers. It certainly wasn't something I set out to do when I answered a cryptic ad that persistently showed up on my cell phone, asking only three questions.

DO YOU LIKE YOUR JOB?

IS IT FULFILLING?

DO YOU WISH YOU WERE DOING SOMETHING MEANINGFUL?

IF YOU ANSWERED NO, NO, AND YES, YOU MAY BE THE PERSON WE NEED!

CLICK HERE IF YOU WISH TO KNOW MORE.

Yeah, stupid drunk me clicked on the hyperlink and two days later (is there something about two days that just follows me?) Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes showed up at my door. Even that wasn't technically true, as I was outside my apartment, had just put the key into the lock and opened the door when I realized that something wasn't right. As a single woman I was pretty aware of my surroundings, so the sight of a pair of black, scuffed combat boots and a pair of pull-on work boots lined up neatly on the mat inside my door led me to believe I wasn't alone. I didn't feel like I was in danger, because honestly, what thief or murderer would take his footwear off and put it on the mat? But, living alone, I also knew not to take any chances, so I reached inside the closet to get my aluminum baseball bat so that I had a weapon handy, except, it wasn't there.

"I have your bat," said a man's voice, coloured by a Brooklyn accent. "We're not here to hurt you but we also don't want you to hurt us."

I stayed in the doorway, not answering and definitely not moving.

"Told you we should have called first," said another voice, also male, but warmer in tone, with a hint of the south in his accent. "You have to admit that breaking into the apartment of a single woman sets off all sorts of warning bells."

"So, sue me," answered the first man. "I want to know how she reacts to a strange situation. Will she threaten us with calling the police without assessing the scene first? Or will she walk in, prepared to react if she must, and find out why two strange men have broken into her apartment, taken their boots off and left them on the mat inside her door?"

"What if she's armed?" asked the second man. "I know you can dodge the bullets."

"You brought the shield, so you're safe, too," said the first. "If she shoots first and asks questions later then she hasn't passed the test. You have to change things up, Sam. This isn't a typical job interview."

Shield? Sam? Job interview? What the actual ...? I stepped out of the doorway to at least see who was talking.

"Do you two argue like this all the time?"

I looked at the one man who I recognized as Sam Wilson, the new Captain America. Which meant the tall dark-haired man with him was Bucky Barnes, the famous (and infamous) Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. They both stood up from where they had been sitting on my couch. After my question they looked at each other.

"It's not really arguing," said Barnes. "It's more like exploring alternative possibilities. You know, hypotheticals." He tossed me the bat, watching how I caught it with one hand, my left one. "Ambidextrous. Nice." He checked his phone and said my name, not even making fun of it. "You are her, right? Former special forces, forced to quit after you broke the nose of your asshole of a commander. Could have got a dishonourable discharge for hitting a superior officer but you managed to get an honourable discharge and a written apology from the guy."

He looked at me, waiting for a reaction.

"What do you want?" I wasn't going to dance around the issue. "Why are you here?"

Barnes held his phone up. "You answered the ad." I looked blankly at him. "The three questions that you answered No, No, and Yes, then clicked on the hyperlink."

"Which didn't work," I replied.

"Oh, it worked," smirked Barnes. "Gave us access to your phone, your records, your whole life really. Which is why we're here right now giving you this job interview."

He was really getting on my nerves, and I flipped the bat, catching it again in my left hand. Wilson looked at him then put his hands out, trying to diffuse the situation.

"Look, I admit that this is unusual," he said, in a tone that I recognized.

It was the same kind of voice that counsellors at the VA used when they were trying to show they had your best interests at heart. I didn't buy it when I had to go see them after my discharge and I wasn't buying it now. Once again, I flipped my bat, only this time I attacked as soon as it hit my hand. It wasn't the best move to make as I ended up on my back, with a metal hand on my chest, holding me down and a pair of the bluest eyes I had ever seen gazing down at me.

"I thought you said you weren't going to hurt me," I wheezed, when my breath came back.

"You attacked," shrugged Barnes, then he lifted his hand off my chest and offered it to me.

I took it and stood up.

"Job interview, huh? For what?"

"Avengers," said Wilson. "We're starting it up again. We have several of the previous Avengers coming back, and some new ones, but we're searching out uniquely qualified individuals whose skill set matches our requirements."

"Aren't you all enhanced, or something?" I asked, looking intently at him.

"No." He shook his head. "It's not a pre-requisite. We're looking for people who can defend themselves, adapt to a situation, and can work with a team. We don't think you got a fair chance with the special forces."

Fair chance. He would have to use those words because he was right. I did everything I was supposed to, knocked myself out to prove that I belonged then had to fend off my commanding officer, six inches taller and 65 lbs heavier than me, when he tried to hurt me in front of witnesses who were on my side. They did try to bust me, but my CO was stupid enough to try it in a place with a security camera. I still got discharged and last I heard he was booted up to be a lackey for some general in Washington. That's how it goes, sometimes.

With a sigh, I went to the kitchen, leaving the bat on the counter and opened the cupboard above the fridge, taking out a bottle of scotch, and grabbing three glasses. By then Barnes and Wilson joined me and I poured out half a glass for each of us. I downed half of mine, then looked at both.

"What's the catch?"

They looked at each other again; a habit that was becoming tiresome.

"No catch," said Sam, "except that you kind of have to leave your current life behind. We're not exactly official or authorized."

"Covert operations?" It was what I trained for.

"Sort of." I shook my head. These guys weren't exactly filling me with confidence.

"Look," said Barnes, finishing his drink. "We were ready to do this a year ago, after the Flag Smashers. Then we both faced some unique challenges. I got press ganged into being in a secret ops team that was so shady it was practically underground, and we weren't being given the truth about our real purpose. Sam was called to Washington to head up the new Avengers, but the President wanted them to be more like his personal hit squad. We were being manipulated left, right, and centre and none of it was for a noble purpose. That's not who we are and before you point out that I was the Winter Soldier ...."

I held up my hand. "I know your story. You don't have to convince me that you were forced into it. So, you're basically starting up the Avengers but on your terms. No shady government agency or government interference, but no government funding either. No Sokovia Accords binding your hands as well. Who is funding it?"

Once again, they looked at each other and I huffed as it was getting really irritating when they did that.

"Stark Foundation but it's buried under layers and layers of non-profits so that they can't be accused of running a private black op." Wilson looked at me earnestly. "The funding is all hands off. We get it and what we do with it is our business. We promised to keep that on the down low, and we don't do anything too illegal, like murder or bank robbery or piracy, stuff like that."

"You interested?"

Barnes was looking directly at me, those blue eyes piercing right into my soul. Working in a warehouse since my discharge hadn't exactly been fulfilling but it was honest work, and it kept my mind from brooding on how my life was unfolding. If anyone knew how much I was really floundering it was this man.

"Alright, I'm in," I said. "I know you're not military, but I want my rank back. I worked hard for that."

"As long as you know that I'm your superior," said Barnes. "In the field, Sam and I are in command." I nodded. Most sergeants ran the units anyway. "Alright, welcome to the Avengers Lieutenant Ripley. I'll be back tomorrow to pick you up and take you to the compound. We all live there." He glanced at my place. "You should be able to sublet this flat easily enough."

I smirked. "I'm surprised your research didn't tell you I'm a squatter. There is no lease. I found the key the owner left in a hiding place. You tell me where the compound is, and I'll be there tomorrow."

Wilson looked uncomfortable but Barnes' face was inscrutable. He texted me a map with a pin dropped on it, then walked past me to the door, stopping long enough to lower his face to my ear and whisper. His warm breath caressed my neck, bringing up goose pimples on my forearm.

"I knew but I was trying to help you save face. I've been where you are, Ellen. You're a badass but you're still a fuckup. Fortunately for you a lot of the Avengers are. It's why we work well together." He straightened up and kept going to the door, stopping only to put his boots on. "You be there by 15:00 or I'll come looking for you."

Then he was gone, and Sam Wilson smiled apologetically at me before following him. I poured myself more scotch, drinking it in three separate gulps. Another fresh start: that's what I had to tell myself. Maybe this time I would believe it.

I showed up at the compound on my motorcycle at 14:55. All of my worldly possessions, my clothing, a few books, a small photo album of my only living relatives, my sister and her family, and my trusty aluminum baseball bat were packed into the saddlebags of the motorcycle, or into the large backpack I wore. The guard at the gate gave a glimmer of a smile when I gave him my name, but at least he didn't say anything and directed me to the building. When I pulled up, Barnes and Wilson were standing there, waiting.

"I'm here," I stated, after I turned off the ignition and stepped off, removing my helmet.

"Didn't doubt it for a minute," replied Barnes, eyeing my ride. "Nice bike."

"It is," I agreed. "Can I leave it here?"

"There's a garage. I can show it to you later. Let's get you set up with your access privileges."

It took about 30 minutes to get me squared away and I dropped my things off in my quarters, then they gave me a brief tour of the facilities. The residences were nice, better than military but more spartan than where I had been living. Sam said I was free to personalize it in any way. Since I wasn't sure how long I would be here until they kicked me out, I planned to leave everything in my bags. Back out in front of the building I got on my motorcycle, prepared for them to give me directions to the garage. Instead, Barnes got on behind me, his hands lightly on my waist.

"Let's see what you've got on this," he said.

"You don't have a helmet," I noted.

"I trust you not to kill me." I almost laughed at that.

"Alright, Sergeant. Remember, you asked for it."

I gunned the throttle, pealing out with the smell of burnt rubber enveloping us. Barnes didn't panic. Instead, he leaned into me, wrapping his arms around me, and moving as I did as I took the corners way too fast. I became aware of a heat radiating from him, even through our leather jackets, making me wonder if it was a super soldier thing. At some point, he patted my stomach then pointed in a direction and I turned that way. We were behind the building where we started, and I slowed up as he pointed to a garage door.

"Thumbprint access," he said loud enough for me to hear. "You're in the system now."

Pulling up, I removed my glove and pressed my thumb on the sensor. The door opened and I drove into the cavernous garage. He directed me to an area where several motorcycles were parked and I pulled into an empty space. We both got off and I nodded my head at the others.

"Whose are these?"

"Mine," he said.

"All four of them?"

He nodded. "Harley-Davidson WL(A) just like one I drove in World War II. I restored that one myself. Triumph Bonneville T120, Norton Commando 961 and for everyday driving a Honda Gold Wing. There's a workspace through that door over there, where you can work on your bike if that's what you like to do in your downtime. Keeps me sane."

We said nothing in the elevator up. Barnes got off at the main floor, nodding at me as he left, while I continued to the top floor where the residences were. When I got inside my quarters, I sat there, wondering what I should do, seeing as how I didn't plan to unpack just yet. Since I wasn't hungry, I figured a workout would drum up my appetite. Changing into my gear, I walked to the fitness centre, remembering where it was from my brief tour. Several people were in there, including a blonde woman, who was practising her kicks and punches on a heavy bag. For a smaller woman she had a lot of power in her and I realized I was watching her more than I was paying attention to my own workout.

"You bothered with something?" she asked, with a distinct Russian accent.

"No, just admiring your skills," I said, "although you're going to hurt your hands if you don't hit it properly."

"I've been doing this for a long time," she smirked. "I think I know how to hit a heavy bag."

I shrugged and turned away from her, continuing my leg work. A few minutes later she stood beside me and gestured to the mat.

"Show me what you've got, rookie," she said, trilling the "r" in rookie.

"I don't want to hurt you," I replied, not knowing her background.

She said something in Russian then challenged me again. With a sigh, I looked at her and got up from the leg lift machine I was on. I was several inches taller than her and at least 20 lbs heavier but she moved towards the mat and gestured to me. Well shit, it was my first day and I already was being called to prove myself. Rolling my neck and shoulders to loosen up I approached her and got into a crouch, as we circled each other, trying to get the other to make the first move. Then she attacked and damn, she was fast, pinning me in no time at all. Letting go of me, she resumed her position, and we circled again, only this time I attacked first, except she climbed upon me and did a move that encircled me before bringing me down hard. The third time, she moved but I was ready for her and sidestepped, clipping her in the face before taking her in a choke hold, while wrapping my legs around hers. The more she struggled the harder I squeezed.

"Ripley, let Yelena go," said a voice and I looked up to see Barnes there, a pissed off expression on his face.

I released her, then stood and offered her a hand up.

"Red Room, aren't you?"

"Da, how did you know?" she asked, wiping her bloody nose with the back of her hand.

"Squared off against a couple of you a few times," I replied. "You're lethal but the man who trained you also trained his own weaknesses into you. I would like to work with you on those, if you help me with mine. If you're going to have my back, I want to know that you're up to it and vice versa."

"Yasha, I like her," said Yelena. "Alright, Ripley. You have a first name?"

"Ripley's fine," I answered. "We good?"

"Da."

She walked past Barnes into the women's locker room, while the others who had gathered dispersed. He didn't move, just stood there glaring at me.

"Don't hurt your teammates," he finally said. "Save it for the missions."

"I would have released her before she passed out."

He turned around and left without a word. I called to him, but he didn't react, and stupid me, I ran after him, pulling him by the arm. His metal hand was on my throat in an instant, pinning me to the wall. Then he just as suddenly released me and turned away. I watched him walk away until he was out of sight.

"He worries about hurting us," said Yelena, who was now standing next to me, her bleeding nose taken care of. "His reactions are so ingrained that he is afraid of the force he uses being lethal. Killing is something he tries to avoid but sometimes it is just how the mission goes. It affects him deeply when that happens."

After I showered and changed, I went to Barnes' quarters, knocking on his door. There was no answer then the door suddenly opened, and I pushed it further open, stepping into the darkened interior. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust but I saw him on his couch, with a glass of amber liquid in his hand, and an open bottle of the same colour liquid on the coffee table. The TV was on but he had the sound off. Closing the door, I approached the table and picked up the bottle, smelling it ... scotch.

"There's a glass in the cupboard," he said, waving towards a small kitchen.

I came back and poured myself some, then sat next to him.

"She started it," I said.

"I ended it," he answered, taking a swallow. "You can't be using your full abilities on your teammates. Train, yes, but hurt them, no."

"We're the same level," I answered. "Now, she knows that I have her back, and I know the same about her. I know the drill, Sergeant. Didn't take you to be queasy about a little bit of blood."

"I'm not but I know what you're capable of," he said, looking straight ahead. "You were captured by ISIS, sexually assaulted by several of them, and your team did nothing to rescue you, figuring you were as good as dead. Then you killed your captors, using whatever you could get your hands on, and walked for two nights in the desert, hiding wherever you could during sunlight hours. When you reunited with your unit your commanding officer tried to justify why he didn't try to find you, and you almost killed him. I know the record says you only broke his nose, but you did a lot more than that. You have severe untreated PTSD and you're a bomb waiting to go off."

I could feel my insides freezing as he listed off what really happened to me, wondering how he found out. When I found my voice, it cracked.

"Why did you offer me a job then, if I'm so dangerous to your obviously well-qualified teammates?"

He put his glass down and looked at me, and I saw it then, the same look I often woke up with, that often stared back at me in the mirror after I slept like shit for weeks in a row. Of course, he had been there, in worse circumstances than I had and for years instead of days.

"Because we can help you," he said quietly. "We can redirect your rage and your anger towards something that will make a difference. You won't be getting by on dead-end jobs and living wherever you can find a place to hole up in. Healing isn't linear. I've been free of HYDRA for over ten years and there are still times when I wonder if I deserve to live. Shit happens but I can control how I react to people, especially those who need me to have their back. I will always have your back, Ellen, and if you are ever taken by the enemy, I will find you, even if it takes years. But you must meet me halfway. Are you going to challenge every single person who is an Avenger? Because I can tell you right now that I won't stand for it. They've all survived their own crucibles, have faced their own battles and setbacks. They don't have to prove themselves to you just as you don't have to prove yourself to them. You either decide you belong, or you don't. It's as simple as that."

We drank in the dimness of his quarters, not speaking to each other, while I considered his words. Everything he said was all true and he knew it because he had been there, right where I was. For too long, I had avoided dealing with a lot of things, not just what happened to me when I was in the army. It went back further than that, to when my parents were killed in a car accident, leaving me in the care of my barely legal sister. I never felt like I belonged because I had been abandoned more than once. Now, this man, the longest serving PoW in history had offered me a choice to go on and live my life in a downward spiral or accept the support and help of being part of something good. Everything in me ached to find a place to call home but I was afraid of facing despair again if I let my guard down and let these people in.

A motion to the side caught my attention. It was Barnes' hand, moving to the space between us, palm up. It was an offering, of friendship, of trust, of hope. All I had to do was place my hand in his and it would seal something between us, a promise to be there for me when I needed it most. With a shaky breath I placed my hand on his, noticing once more how warm he was, and we intertwined our fingers. He squeezed my hand and sat there for some time, in the quiet.

That was six months ago, and I haven't been disappointed in placing my trust in Bucky, and the others. It wasn't always smooth sailing, but no grudges were held, and any disputes were dealt with by various methods that didn't involve drawing blood. This mission, where I continued on with this mother and child, desperately trying to escape the life of misery they had, tested our capabilities. As we got into a shootout with the "associates" of her husband sent to take the daughter back to her father, Bucky pulled me aside.

"Go, take them to a safe house," he said, putting a new set of keys into my hand. "It doesn't matter which one because I'll find you. There are extra vehicles at each place so if you just go to change vehicles that works, too. Just don't try to call or text us." I wasn't going to lie. I was afraid and I told him I didn't know if I could do this. "I have faith in you, Ellen. It's why I wanted to recruit you."

With a nod, I herded the pair out the back door of the safe house we were in. There was a garage in the back yard, and I opened the door, unlocking the car doors with the remote on the key chain. Pressing the garage door remote I sped out of there, with the woman and child huddled on the floor of the back seat. We drove to another safe house, its location in the countryside memorized. For two days, we stayed there, and I almost reached the point where I was done waiting. Then a vehicle pulled up to where the access road came off the highway and I sent my charges into a safe room in the basement, telling them to unlock it only for me. I turned off the lights and watched as the car approached, parking some distance away. A man got out of the driver's seat and stood in front of the car, studying the house. I couldn't see his face as the headlights blinded me. Then he pulled out a cell phone and texted something. My phone pinged and I read the screen.

Bucky: It's okay. It's me. I found you.

Ellen: Prove it's you.

Bucky: You're named after a badass woman, Ellen Ripley, from the Alien movie franchise. I didn't know about the character until you brought it up when you got drunk and came onto me. I turned you down because I don't have sex with drunk women, especially those with PTSD. After I saw the movies, I made a pass at you, and we've been seeing each other ever since but we haven’t gone all the way, because you’re not ready. Satisfied?

I opened the door, and Bucky Barnes strode towards me, the man who had my back from the beginning, the man who found me and is helping me find myself. Allowing ourselves a moment to embrace, we went down to the safe room and retrieved the woman and her daughter. Leaving my car there, we all got into Bucky's car and drove to where the Federal Marshals were waiting to put the pair into witness protection. After we watched them drive away, Bucky lifted me onto the hood of the car, and stood between my legs, kissing me passionately for several long glorious moments. Tonight, we would spend together at the safe house, then we would drive back home tomorrow. Home, what a wonderful way to describe my new extended family, and the man who would search to the ends of the earth to find me if I ever went missing. All because I answered what I thought was a spam ad but was really an invitation to become an Avenger.

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