#colonel bombshell

[yenhan]

"Accidental pregnancy scare"

Thoughts on TF141 & International student neighbor ft. Alejandro and Rudy

Part One - Next - Masterlist

a/n: f!reader

Synopsis: One little misunderstanding surely won't do much damage.

You knew you’d messed up the second Rudy dropped his drink.

He was laughing at first. He was. That man had a distinctive laugh, and he definitely fit his newest job as a self-defence instructor for kids. He just gave the impression to be that good with children. Alejandro, on the other hand, had his eyebrows so high up that they were about to vacate his forehead entirely.

Knowing they spoke Spanish, you took it as a chance to dust the drawer in which the 'one month exchange in Spain' had been abandoned. You finished telling them a story; being flustered after an evil seagull stole your sandwich at the beach. "Me sentí tan embarazada," you said at length.

Except, you just made a terrible mistake. A little mix-up between languages. Who could blame you? Your brain switched languages every two seconds! Embarazada, imbarazzata, embarrassed... Why did they sound so similar? Was it really your fault if 'embarazada' meant 'pregnant'?

Which you were not. Not even remotely.

You coughed. Alejandro grinned like Christmas had come early.

“¿Embarazada?” Rudy repeated slowly. “You’re pregnant?”

Your heart dropped into your socks, under your shoes, under the pavement of the flat. “No! That’s not what I meant! I’m not—" You covered your face.

Too late.

The colonel, bless him, was already turned toward the lads, aware he was about to deliver a bombshell of gossip. “Did you know your little neighbor is pregnant?”

“Wot?!” Soap choked on his tea, beating his chest to avoid suffocating.

Gaz immediately teared up. “I—I’m not ready to be an uncle... Who’s the dad? Does he have a job? This requires an emergency meeting. We don’t have a contingency plan!”

Ghost stood up and walked directly to the window. As if the shining glass could track the identity of the mystery father... You were fairly certain he was running through a list of local male residents and assigning kill orders. Was it Jared from the butcher's shop? That boy had a penchant for dangerous endeavors, alas flirting with you when you accompanied Johnny and Simon to buy steaks. Perhaps Ray, the mailman, had lingered a little too long by your doorstep lately?

Price’s sigh could’ve powered the National Grid. “For Christ’s sake.”

Soap, poor guy, was pacing now. "Right, who wis it? Ah'll kill 'im. Naw, seriously, just blink twice if it’s someone we ken."

Encouraged by Alejandro's discreet sneer, you made a show of holding your stomach. “Oh, I just felt a flutter. Must’ve been the spicy fried chicken.”

The Scotsman nearly fainted. “You sneaky wee shite!"

“Y’lot are absolute idiots,” Price muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can someone get me a drink? Or a shovel to bury the rest of my patience?”

“I’m kidding! Not pregnant. Just linguistically challenged. Sorry, Kyle.”

Gaz stopped mid-sob. “Thank God. I wasn’t ready to financially commit to diapers.”

“Tha's it? No situation to… address?” Ghost turned. He sure was inscrutable, but you noticed the relieved glint in his eyes before it disappeared.

You gave him a look™. “Uh? Like you’d what, adopt the baby out of spite?”

He didn’t answer.

"Simon."

"I didn’t say yes."

"..."

Price just pointed a finger at both of your Mexican friends. “You two are banned from visiting. Indefinitely.”

Remember kids: Check your false friends before they give your neighbors a collective aneurysm. Or a reason to plan a shotgun wedding.

P.S. Yes, Simon would adopt the baby.

Based on a friend's mishap in Madrid.

[vandnana]

The Time Capsule

Chapter 1: War-Time Lovers

pairing: bucky barnes x female 1940’s bombshell! reader

°

summary: bucky left his heart in 1945 with you, the only girl he ever really loved. a letter you left has him believing you’re dead, but the reality?

you were captured by hydra and made into a super soldier that never went to war—kept frozen for a future era of terror. years after hydra fell, valentina discovered you in her research to creating a new superhero.

in a last ditch effort, valentina’s team of scientists used your blood to make a new serum on bob, their latest subject. but, when it seemed that bob didn’t withstand the experiment, she left you and him in the vault to burn with the rest of the evidence.

you woke up disoriented in a completely different world, saved by a team of antiheroes with no idea that the love of your life was still alive.

°

genre: fluff, angst (implied smut) 18+ mdni

word count: 8,542

highlights: jealous! bucky, howard stark having the fattest crush on reader, peggy and reader girl friendship :)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this can be a stand alone but I am not normal and wrote so much that this ended up being a Bucky series (look forward to the other parts!)

…this is the first ever Bucky fic I’ve made! I know I mainly write for avatar (new chapters coming!) but I really had to make this fic cause I got a surge of an idea.

so sorry for any typos as well! I was just writing and writing and got so excited

Circa. 1943

You had escaped your stuffy life in the upper east side of Manhattan to join the efforts against Germany and actually go make a difference in the world.

But the only way that you could find a way to fight was to become one of Captain America's backup dancers during his morale shows. You had performed in a couple of those shows before you snuck away when no one was looking, disguising yourself in uniform and posing as a soldier for as long as you could.

When it finally came out that you were a woman, it sure as hell wasn’t enough that you were on the same team as Captain America, especially to Colonel Philips. It was under his call that you were asked to leave until Howard Stark stepped in. He compromised with Philips by giving you a position in his office with Peggy, confident that you would help the war effort. Truthfully though, he was just taken by you and he would have simply despaired sending a woman as beautiful as you back to New York.

You had become good friends with Peggy, Stark, and Steve, but you had become closest to Steve. He had reminded you of your brother that you had at home— the same kindness in his heart and the same fighting spirit. You were protective of him, despite the fact that the super serum made him tower over you.

So, naturally on the day that Steve was going on a rogue rescue mission to save his friend, you insisted on coming, promising Steve you would stay with Peggy in the plane.

"Miss Y/n Y/l/n, if it's not too much trouble, I thought we could stop off in Lucerne for a late-night fondue." Stark flirted from the cockpit.

You looked over at Peggy and Steve, their eyes expectant as they waited for your response. Clearing your throat, you lied with a smile, "Yeah, that sounds great."

"It's a date, then!" He replied, satisfied as he smirked to himself.

You didn't say anything, scrunching your nose as you looked to the side. Only Peggy seemed to notice, chuckling with an amused expression. Steve, though, was clueless, his thoughts surface-level as he let out a sigh of relief that Howard was flirting with you and not Peggy.

She turned her attention over to Steve, describing how to use the transponder so he could activate it when he was ready. You listened carefully before bullets began to ricochet off the plane's exterior, multiple gun blasts sounding in your ears making you stand up immediately with your ears covered.

Steve stood up too, his sense of urgency heightened as he quickly opened the hatch.

"Get back here! We're taking you all the way in!" Peggy yelled out against the winds and gunfire.

"As soon as I'm clear, you turn this thing around and get the hell out of here!" Steve commanded at her, her eyebrows raising.

"Hey, Stark!" You put your hands around your mouth to project, and even as he dodged the bullets, he was still able to respond to you.

"Yes, beautiful?”

You looked down at Steve who was getting ready to jump and without warning you grabbed onto the strap on his back as you replied, "I'll have to take a raincheck on that fondue!"

Peggy attempted to grab you but Steve jumped before he realized you were attached to him, the two of you falling toward the ground at incredible speed. Once you finally hit the ground, Steve broke your fall and you got up from the ground with him scolding at you in a whispered tone, "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm your backup! Now, hurry up. We have people to save." You said to him confidently, running toward the hydra base already.

Sneaking past the armed guards, you and Steve had no problem getting inside. You were in horrified awe looking at everything, the technology unlike anything you had ever seen before—weapons and artillery that glowed a bright blue color. You put a few of the small canisters in your pocket, figuring Stark would know what they were with his brilliance before moving on toward the prison cell blocks.

Disarming more guards, you startled the soldiers below who looked at you in shock, their faces all riddled with same expression as one of them asked, "Who are you?" as Steve stood over their cells.

"I'm Captain America."

Steve threw down the keys that were in the guard's pockets and you caught them, unlocking each of the cell doors and letting them all out.

You were so caught up in the mission, you hadn't realized how baffling your presence was to the men as they stared at you in awe, one of them commenting, "You're a...woman."

"Right, a woman that just saved your ass." You said snarkily.

“Language.” Steve scolded you, his eyes frantic as he looked for his friend.

You rolled your eyes at him, ignoring what he said as you instructed, "Go look for him, Steve. I'll make sure you have a clear way out of here!"

Steve shook his head at you, putting his hands on your shoulders, refusing instantly, "No, you go with them and you run like hell."

There was no point in arguing with him, conceding as you saluted, "Yes, Cap. You got it."

With your confirmation, Steve ran the other way, and you went with the others, starting off running with everyone, but turning back toward the corridor Steve had went into.

The explosions began when you got closer to where you had left Steve, the entire bottom of the base going up in flames. You were running as fast as you could, only catching up to Steve when you saw him duck into one of the rooms.

You meant to follow him inside, but the shadow of a figure caught your eye, the short man wearing a trench coat, a briefcase, and a hat. You fixated on that briefcase, whatever unholy hydra plans in there possibly helpful in defeating hydra once and for all. Running as fast as you could, you shot at the man as you ran, making him move quicker in haste across the long hallway.

When he finally stopped you had a clear shot, until another man stepped out from an elevator, his face sinister as he turned to let the man you were chasing into the elevator, gun in his hand as he said to you simply, "Consider this a mercy."

Pointing it at you, you had no time to react as he shot you, only barely missing your heart as you managed to dodge it just enough for it to land in the flesh between your collarbone and your shoulder.

The impact sent you down to the ground, pain seeping through the wound as blood spilled out. Cursing, you took off your outer coat, ripping up your shirt underneath and tying the wound as tight as you could and as quickly as possible. Getting up, you held onto your coat, the material bunched up in your hands as you ran to the elevator.

Pressing the button underneath the highest one, you figured it would give you a good vantage point to call out to Steve since the entire base was burning from the ground up.

Breathing heavily, you were collecting your strength as you leaned against the wall of the elevator and once the doors finally opened, you trudged out, eyes searching everywhere as you yelled, "Steve!"

You saw movement two stories down, and even from that far, you saw disappointment and worry on his face as he yelled out, "I told you to get the hell out of here!"

"You really think I'd leave you here? Hurry up! You can use this beam to get across!" They followed the gesture of your hands, quickly running up the stairs.

Leaning against the railing, you gulped, watching the world around you burning, the heat rising and rising, sweat dripping from your forehead.

Up ahead, you watched as Steve's friend went first, balancing carefully on the beam that rocked slightly with every step. When the end of the beam on your side began to drop lower with his weight, your eyes widened and instantly you reached out, "Take my hand!"

He almost lost his balance, blinking at you, his eyes adjusting to take in your appearance. It didn't matter that your hair was all over the place, that sweat ws beading around your forehead or that you had blood and dirt smeared on your shirt. For that split second, his breath hitched at the sight of you, simply enamored, before he ran forward, hand extended as he jumped up from the beam just in time before it fell.

Despite the pain in your shoulder, you used all your strength to help pull him up and over the railing. When he was over, he fell onto you and you caught him, your arms around his back as you stabilized your feet. Time felt as if it slowed when you pulled your face back, your eyes locked on each other in that moment. You were asking if he was alright as you trailed your hands around him, his hunched position when he first started walking on the beam concerning you. But with every fleeting touch of yours, you were unknowingly stamping yourself on him, the feel of you creating a longing inside of Bucky that he never knew was possible.

Once he nodded, speechless, you were back at the railing and looking at Steve across the beam, "Just wait right there. We'll find a way to get you across." You watched as Steve looked down, doom looming over him as he shook his head.

"Go guys! Get out of here!" Steve urged, but right beside you, his friend countered him.

His friend was right beside you now, smacking on the railing, he was angry, determined as he yelled out, "No! Not without you!"

"Come on, Captain America! Get a running start and jump!" You weren't sure if it would work or if it was even a good idea, but it was the only thing you could think of.

Bending the railing, Steve heeded your order, stepping back and with a big breath he sprinted forward, jumping into the air, fire and flame all around him.

You couldn't peel your eyes away as you watched him leap, but at the last minute, you turned away, not wanting to watch your fear unravel in front of you.

The clunk of metal though made you face forward again, Steve's body wobbling forward and you let out a sigh of relief as you draped an arm around him, and even included his friend into your embrace, "We're home free now."

Walking back to the home base, you had argued with Steve for over five minutes about how you were fine to walk and that you didn't need to be in the tank with the rest of the injured men.

He didn't win the argument in the end, conceding to you as you walked proudly next to him. But, he did take away the gun that you were carrying so you could wear a sling.

His friend matched your pace, remaining close to you, his eyes both patrolling his surroundings, but also somehow always finding their way back to you. It wasn't hard for you to notice and you smiled to yourself, the grin that he kept on his face endearing to you.

"Do you have a name or are you just gonna keep staring?" You asked him, tilting your head slightly as you looked at him from the side.

"Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes," His tone uplifted at your question, eyes glinted with excitement at your boldness, "And your name is...?"

"Y/n Y/l/n. Just y/n is fine. No need for any titles." You introduced yourself, the warmth of your voice radiating through the air.

"Just y/n, huh? The people I'm close with call me Bucky." He added.

"Ah, is that your aim then, Sergeant? To get close to me?" You teased, grinning.

"No need for any titles." He repeated, chuckling at your answer,but his eyes were determined and seductive, passion enthralled in his response, "I mean you've already offered your hand to me, so I think it's only right."

You hated to admit how he was getting under your skin with his charm, the way he was talking setting a fire deep within you, making your heart pump faster than usual.

Reaching up, you put your hand up to his face, lightly tapping it as you cheekily replied, "You better watch it. You really shouldn't bite off more than you can chew there, Barnes."

Turning to the side, you gazed up at Steve, who was pretending that he wasn't eavesdropping on your conversation. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you spoke, "I'm going to check in with everyone, see if they need anything."

Bucky watched you leave, even the sight of you walking away was breathtaking to him. And when you were finally out of sight, he put an arm around Steve, elation blooming in the way he beamed over you, "She's an actual angel that came down from heaven. Where did you find her, Steve? And what's she doing hanging with you?"

Steve shrugged, used to Bucky's jokes and his usual gushing about women, "She snuck into the infantry, if you really have to know. She's a good woman, Buck and I think she's spoken for."

"She is spoken for...by me, pal. I'm marrying that girl." Bucky said, unbothered.

"You say that about every girl." Shaking his head, Steve laughed, "She's a real tough cookie to crack, Buck. I don't know if you can handle it."

"Come on, have you met me?" Bucky scoffed, confidence oozing out, "I'm telling you, I'm marrying her."

-

Once you arrived at camp, you were greeted with a surprisingly warm welcome by Colonel Philips, his shock and awe by Steve's rescue mission finally giving credibility to the idea of Captain America being more than just a symbol.

Peggy kept her composure looking at Steve, her eyes once concerned washing over with relief at seeing him in one piece. She extended that concern to you as she took your hand, her face dropping when she saw you in a sling.

She escorted you to the medic tent, the others who were injured following after you. Bucky's eyes only left you when he shouted out "Let's hear it for Captain America!" for Steve, the gesture touching your heart.

Peggy was calling your name, but you didn't hear her at all, staring a little longer than you thought, hanging onto Bucky's every move as he patted his friend's back enthusiastically.

Only when she tapped your shoulder did you finally grant her your eye contact and her lips pursed as she playfully taunted, "Never have I seen you be so enamored with a man this entire time I've known you. And, we are always surrounded by them."

"You can't tell me he isn't handsome." You shrugged your shoulders, wincing slightly as you held onto your wound, forgetting about it for the moment.

Your carelessness made her chuckle as she motioned for you to keep following her, "He's not really my type of man."

You took an opportunity to tease her back, smiling to yourself from behind her, "Oh right, you like the blonde ones. I forgot." She sent you quick glare, and satisfied you only gave her an innocent expression.

-

The next night, celebration was in order for all the men in the infantry, all of them filing out of their barracks in their proper uniforms toward the pub on the other side of camp.

It was you who had convinced Peggy to wear her red dress to the pub because although she only planned to be there for a second to talk to Steve, you knew how much she really liked him, and you were certain of her effect on him too.

You had your own evening gown to put on too, an unexpected gift from Howard Stark, which you would have kindly refused if he didn't so adamantly insist that he wouldn't take it back. You were even deadset on wearing a uniform just like the rest of the soldiers, but Peggy begged you to dress up, saying that Stark's gift would be wasted. When you finally agreed, she helped you get ready, pinning up your hair and finished your makeup before the two of you walked over to the pub.

The night air was chilly, but it didn't bother you as you walked, one foot in front of the other with careful precision, just like you were taught in your debutante school when you were a teenager. Pushing the door open, you let Peggy walk through the door first, the lively tunes of the piano once boisterous, halting suddenly as the pianist slowed his fingers, jaw hung open as he ogled the two of you.

Silence filled the pub as the soldiers' eyes were fixated on you. You recognized some of the men you rescued from the hydra base, making your way over to them and joking, "Glad to see you guys are alive and well enough to drink your fill."

The one with the bowler hat and mustache nodded, tipping his hat then lifting his cup to you, "Thanks to you and our Captain America over there! Forgive me for being so bold with you, Miss. You're no able grable, but a fine woman indeed. We here at this table all agree. Cheers to you."

Nodding at them, you looked at each of them gratefully and they drank their beers in honor of you, clinking them loudly as the foam spilt over the sides. Turning the corridor, you saw Peggy already with Steve. You intended to give them more time, but she was already turning toward the exit.

"You're leaving already?" You asked, "You should stay for a dance."

"I can't." Then, looking past you, she smiled, "But you can. And it looks like you already have a dance partner."

Following her eye line, ahead you saw Bucky, hands in his pockets and that same smile from before donned on his lips. He had anticipated your arrival, his head constantly peering toward the entrance every chance he got before you came.

"Good luck." Peggy whispered into your ear, winking.

Peggy left you in the center of the room, the soldiers all still with their eyes lingering on your figure. Bucky was leaning against the frame of the walkway, his gaze full of adoration with every step you took toward him.

You were almost within arm's length of him when you were interrupted by Stark's familiar voice behind you, his usual charm lacing it, "I almost didn't recognize you without your uniform on, Miss y/l/n."

Stark pivoted to your front, blocking Bucky's view as he admired the dress on you, "I do know how to pick an evening gown, don't I?"

"I'm surprised to see you here. Aren't you a little busy decoding that blue stuff from the hydra base?" You jabbed at him, ignoring his flirtatious advances.

"Not too busy to reschedule our fondue." He leaned forward suggestively, "What do you say?"

You caught Bucky's eye, his gaze never leaving you and his stance still against the doorway. Seeing him still waiting there, your heart softened and you smiled at him, "Sorry Stark. I would but—"

"But, I owe her a dance." Bucky was quick to walk over when he heard your apology, finishing your sentence as he boldly spoke for you.

Stark looked up at Bucky, puzzled before he recognized him, putting a hand out, "Ah, Sergeant Barnes, is it? Glad to see you're alive."

"I've got Steve and y/n here to thank for that." Taking Stark's hand, Bucky shook it firmly before letting it go and extending his hand to you, "Shall we?"

You looked over at Stark, who felt instantly challenged by Bucky's gesture, the two of them suddenly glaring at one another.

"Thank you for the gown." You kissed him on the cheek, and he hung onto that lingering touch as he ghosted where your lips had been.

Finally, you took Bucky's hand and he clasped your fingers together leading you to the area where people were dancing. You saw Steve sitting at the bar, waving at him as he held his drink high as if he was toasting to you.

You pulled Bucky back toward the bar, insistent on getting a drink first. When the bartender turned around, he almost dropped the glass he was wiping with the rag, jaw hung open as he adjusted the tip of his hat, "What can I get for you, miss?"

"Whiskey will do. Thank you sir. How much?" You asked, pulling out your purse, which Bucky put down for you, already placing money on the counter.

"You're on my dime tonight." Bucky insisted as the man began to pour your drink.

Steve scoffed, "How come you didn't buy my drink?"

"You're not a beautiful woman, Steve," He gave you a dazzling smile, eyes beaming at you, "And a beautiful woman should never have to pay."

"Is that so?" You replied, leaning over the counter and batting your eyelashes at the bartender, "Do you agree, sir?"

"Uh, well, yes, miss!" The glass was almost overflowing as he stood flustered by you, "This one's on the house!"

Flashing him a smile, you winked, "Thank you kindly."

Downing it all in one go, Bucky and Steve looked at one another, Steve's eyes widened, but Bucky's seeped with intense ardor. Once you finished, you slid the glass back toward the bartender, who tipped his hat again to you.

Then, meeting Bucky's eyes, you trailed your hand down his arm and hooked your fingers around his, "I guess you were right, Barnes."

In the middle of the dancing area, Bucky wasted no time in gently pulling you close, minding your injury as he placed your hand on his lower waist. The piano player, who had once played an upbeat tune, slowed his tempo down, the song's natural romantic nature creating an air of intimacy around you and Bucky.

You rested the other hand on his shoulder, but instead of his attention fixed on you, they were on the bartender. Lifting your hand to his chin, you coaxed his focus back to your face, teasing him curiously, "You've got a real sour face on for someone who wanted to dance."

"So...what's with you and the fondue guy?" He was itching to know more than he cared to admit, the sight of you kissing another man's cheek igniting a territorial urge he didn't know he was capable of.

"I didn't take you for a jealous man, Barnes. What got you exactly?" You laughed and seeing that, he instantly surrendered his seriousness, lips pulling upward with joy while you cheekily replied.

"I'm not jealous," He sucked on his teeth, scoffing a little at your response, "See, you actually did me a favor at the bar."

"Did I?" You said with surprise, raising your eyebrows eagerly.

"Yeah, you just saved me a couple more Italian lira to get you something real nice." He seemed proud of his answer, head tilted a little higher as he kept a smirk.

Challenging him, you spoke, "I'm used to the finer things in life, Barnes. Whatever you buy won't impress me."

"I find that hard to believe when you're wearing the dress that fondue guy gave you," Bucky playfully looked at you.

Looking down, you nodded, "I am wearing Stark's dress, yes. But, I'm dancing with you, and where you are is exactly where I want to be."

You expected another sly and quick reply from him but Bucky was at a loss for words, rendered speechless not just by your touch, but by your words. You taunted him amorously, "What's wrong, soldier? Do I need to give you a command to show a girl a good time?"

He gulped, suddenly feeling weak in his knees over you— all his senses centered around your entire being, "I'll do anything you want, doll. Just say the word."

Slowly, you closed the gap between you two, resting your head on his shoulder and interlacing your hand into his, "Good, now hold me close and we'll see where the night takes us."

Everything about you was warm, any worries and fears he had disappearing from his mind. The smell of roses were distinctly yours now, your perfume permeating through his nose pleasantly and without thinking, he leaned into you a little closer, the feel of your hair soft underneath his chin. You were humming quietly with the piano too, and he decided then that the piano was too loud, too disruptive against your melodic voice.

Savoring the moment, he squeezed your hand lightly, the gesture necessary as he wondered whether or not he was dreaming. In response to him, you tilted your head back to regard his eyes, and almost instantly he looked down at your lips that were softly parted, the cherry red calling his name.

Gulping, Bucky held back the temptation, the tension in the air almost suffocating him while you stared, curious what he would do. He tried his best to abate wanting to kiss you, but your lips were beckoning him and leaning in he surrendered vulnerably, connecting his lips with yours.

Realization hit him deep as you kissed him back, your hands once on his back trailing to the back of his neck with a tender fervor. He knew he was a ladies' man, the worst kind too—the kind who'd have a different girl on his arm every week. Yet, he found his match in you. For the first time, he was actually scared of losing a girl, and he'd be damned if it was to another man.

Separating your lips from his, he stared at you breathless and longingly, as if your face held all the answers in the world, everything about you already embedded into the inner workings of his mind and the chambers of his heart.

He decided right then and there that he'd only ever want to be with you—to be the only man you ever held, ever kissed.

You yourself were taken by him too, and it felt odd to feel such a natural attraction to someone. You were courted by so many suitors back in New York, showered with gifts, wined and dined until the day was long, yet none of them had ever made you feel the way Bucky made you feel.

"You know, you looked beautiful today." Bucky let out, the words almost not coming out as a sudden nervousness bubbled in his stomach.

Bewildered, you squinted your eyes at him, "When?"

"When I was crossing that beam." He admitted, "Damn near almost fell off staring at you."

You ignored the feeling of your cheeks getting rosy, sighing, "I'm happy you're safe and sound."

Shrugging, he coolly responded, “Well, I had to make it to you. It would have been embarrassing to fall like that on our first date.”

Another laugh escaped your lips, “I don't think that rescue mission can be called a first date."

"What do you mean? It was perfect. You know, we held hands, I walked you home...I think that's standard date procedure." Bucky stated, pleading his case flippantly.

"Steve was also there, and we almost died too." You added, which made him laugh.

"So, it was memorable." Bucky argued, “We're both soldiers, doll. Battlefield or not, anywhere I go with you is a date."

Your cheeks were red now, but there was no point in hiding it anymore, his effect on you evident by your sudden silence. He was naturally alluring to you, but deeper than that, he saw you as a soldier, and it felt good to be recognized, to know that you were something more than a high-society woman from New York.

"I look forward to that next date, but for now, let's focus on this one." You replied, validating his advances happily.

You and Bucky danced together late into the night, and you would have been there the whole way through if the piano player didn't pass out in the middle of a song, his drunkenness getting the best of him. The other soldiers were also filing out of the pub too, some of them knocked out too, their heads on the tables or leaned back onto the chairs.

Bucky walked you back to your room in Stark's headquarters on the base, draping his jacket over you to shield you from the cold. The two of you walked in comfortable silence, but not entirely as you continued to hum the tunes from the pub.

When you got to your room, you gave him his jacket back as he leaned against the doorframe. Watching you walk in, you elected not to turn your light on, but rather light a few candles on your bedside table.

"You know, I was never really worried about the dress, doll." His tone short of indelicate as his voice deepened.

Spinning around, you walked over to him, leaning forward slightly as you played with his shirt collar, "And why's that, Barnes?"

The heat from the candles held no comparison to the passion imbued in the air, once embers igniting instantly into a flame as Bucky spoke, "I figured, you know, if you'll have me...I wouldn't keep you in that dress any longer than you needed to be."

"It was difficult to put on, just so many buttons," You were baiting him purposefully, drawing the moment out longer, your face just inches away from his.

"I have nimble fingers." Bucky blurted out a little too eagerly as his eyes shined with mischief but he kept a giddy smile.

Without thinking, you couldn't help the laugh that erupted, charmed by his sudden switch from sultry to silly. And realizing how he sounded, Bucky laughed along with you, scolding himself internally.

"That was—" He began, but you interrupted.

"Cute. That was cute." You said, and caressing his cheek adoringly you teased him again with a chaste kiss on his lips.

Bucky longed for more, the touch so light that he was aching inside when you pulled away, biting his bottom lip.

Giving him one last smile, your eyes crescent moons and your cheeks still rosy, you stepped backward into your room, grabbing the edge of the door, “Good night, Bucky.”

His ears perked up, but in his disbelief he tilted his head, “You just called me Bucky.”

“Oh, do you prefer Barnes? Because I’ll happily—“

He put a finger to your lips, shaking his head, “No, no, doll, keep calling me Bucky…please.”

Again, you chuckled, moving his fingers over and holding them, “I’ll see you tomorrow Bucky. Now, go get some sleep.”

“Impossible, y/n. I’ll be thinking about you all night.” Bucky was dragging out the moment too, head downcast and staring at your fingers, still intertwined together, neither of you wanting to let go.

You looked behind you, the candles setting the mood already and biting your lip, you sighed, "The barracks are pretty far from here.”

Slowly, you led him forward and with no hesitation, he walked toward you, out of the doorframe and to the center of your room. The candlelight cascaded onto you guys, the two of you so close, your shadows had become one.

Boldly, he twirled you around, his chest facing your back as he adored you from your left side, his breath sending a chill down your spine as he whispered in your ear, "You did order me to show a girl a good time. I have to make good on that promise."

"You already have," You were beaming, eyes locked and your hand in his hair, your voice slightly raspy from the whiskey you were drinking earlier.

"Well, I'm an overachiever." He kissed your cheek softly, his stubble tickling you.

You placed your hands on top of his where they rested on your waist, "Then, what are you waiting for? This dress isn't gonna take itself off."

-

You woke up to a knock on the door, the first one gentle at first then the second one jolting you awake. You blinked rapidly, eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room. The candles you lit were on your bedside table, wax spilled past their holders, long burnt out. Then, you felt a tug at your side, an arm pulling you closer and a deep groan begging your attention as you looked to your side.

He was also woken up by the knock, but it hardly mattered when he was waking up next to you, your bodies still entangled with one another.

"Morning, doll." He greeted, raspiness coating his voice, his tone echoing the way he spoke to you last night, his adoration declared while he was on top of you, matching every word with his amorous movements.

"Y/n! Are you alright? We have a briefing to get to in fifteen minutes!" You heard Peggy yell on the other side of the door.

You left Bucky alone on the bed as you hastily got up and in a rush, you quickly put his pants on and his jacket to cover your naked body. When you got to the door, you only opened the door a sliver to hide Bucky, then smoothing your hair out, you replied to her with a smile, "I-I'm fine. I just didn't get a lot of sleep last night so I woke up late."

She paused, taking in your appearance, her eyebrows raised when she noticed the stripes on the sleeves, the symbol not at all reflecting your military rank, "Ah, have you always had that jacket, y/n? I didn't know you changed ranks. Although, I've always known you've had a little sergeant in you."

Bucky was listening to your conversation, holding in a chuckle from Peggy's comment.

You were certain you were bright red, but you brushed her off, "Oh, this? I borrowed it last night. It was quite cold when I left the pub." You lied, scratching the back of your head.

She smiled at you, amused, "Okay, well, I don't want you to be late. So, hurry, please," She backed away from the door, but just as she was about to turn away she called out, "And that goes for you too, Sergeant Barnes."

Shutting the door, you put your head against it for a second, not wanting to look at Bucky until he cleared his throat, joking with you, "As much as I love seeing you in my clothes, we have a briefing to get to."

You bit the inside of your cheek, scoffing as you took the jacket and pants off, you bare again making Bucky clutch his heart, "Or we can skip the briefing."

You walked over, clothes in your right hand as you leaned forward on the bed, teasing him as you ghosted your lips on his, "Just get dressed, you idiot," You whispered, throwing his clothes at him.

"Anything you want, doll." He smirked, hopping off the bed.

-

You barely made it to the briefing on time, slightly out of breath when you walked in, Bucky right behind you. Everyone was gathered around the large flat table in Stark's main office, all of their eyes on you when you walked in.

You took your place beside Peggy, who pinched your hand in acknowledgement underneath the table. You held in a wince, glaring at her, but she only gave you a mischievous grin. Stark willfully ignored the sight, continuing what he was saying as he pointed to the maps on the table. Steve, who had already caught on, assumed at first that it was another fleeting moment with another girl. Yet, it became painfully obvious that Bucky actually liked you when his best friend only looked at him for a moment before clinging to your side, taking his position on the opposite end of you.

And from that day on, you and him were practically inseparable, and in all the time that Steve had known his best friend, he never saw him so smitten with someone. Whenever you talked, Bucky's ears perked up and he gave you his full undivided attention. When you walked, Bucky was never far, usually next to you or a few paces behind. And when you were simply doing nothing, his eyes never left you and his smile was perpetual, cheeks lifted like he never got tired of doing it.

As a soldier and a sergeant, he wasn't allowed to stay outside of the barracks, but he broke the rules for you every chance he got, his place beside you in bed hardly ever empty.

And even in battle, it was easy for you and Bucky to be side by side, the two of you being sharpshooters. But on the occasion that you were on the ground with Steve, Bucky would hound him about keeping you safe, the idea of you ever being hurt unbearable even just in thought.

For two years, you remained that way.

Always together, never apart.

It was in the winter of 1945 when Bucky showed up with his hands behind his back while you were studying the maps of the weapons' bases. You and the Howling Commandos were making great headway disarming the hydra bases, but there were still so many more to go.

The snow was falling above you in the tent, and he found it odd how you were positioned, your body still in the snow while you held the map underneath the tent.

"What are you doing, love?" He knelt down beside you, placing a gentle hand on your knee.

"Enjoying the snow, but I have to keep this map dry." You laughed, looking at him through snow-covered eyelashes, the white specks falling so beautifully in your hair, "I probably look like some sort of white witch with all this snow on me."

“Witch? You’re more radiant like the elves in the Hobbit.” He complimented, making you look up from the map.

You saw how contemplative his expression became when you made eye contact, and tilting your head, you asked, "Is something wrong?"

Bucky carefully took the map out of your hands, placing it on the ground. He was halfway in the snow now too, his hair getting covered while he gushed, "I've just been thinking. I can't imagine my life without you in it. You'll always be my doll, y/n."

Letting out a soft chuckle, you joked, "Always is a long, long time. Are you sure about that?"

"I'll bet my life on it." He replied confidently, reaching up to caress your hair, "And when we come back from all this, I'm marrying you."

"Is that right?" You took his hand into yours, kissing the inside of his palm, "And how are you so sure I'd say yes?"

Smirking, he lowered his eyes at you seductively, "Well, I figured you would since you didn't have any problems saying yes to me last night," He leaned in closer, inching toward your lips as he whispered softly, "Again and again and again..."

He connected his lips to yours and you smiled into it as he kissed you, every movement entrenched in deep affection as his hands pulled you closer to him.

Pulling away slightly, you put a hand on his cheek, your foreheads still touching and your voice almost breathless as you said aloud, "I love you, Bucky."

"I love you too," He breathed in, your words intoxicating him beyond what he could fathom, and reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small box, "I know you hate gifts, but I couldn't resist."

He popped the top open to reveal a ring, the stone sparkling in the snow, "I figured I can't marry you without a ring."

"Bucky, you didn't have to—"

He took it out of the box, taking your hand and putting it on your left hand, "And before you start yelling at me, I didn't buy it, I made it."

You gasped, smiling widely, "You made this?"

"With my own hands." He stated proudly.

"How—" Speechless for a moment, you held your hand up, admiring the details, your heart warmed by the thought of Bucky working so hard to make it for you.

"I told you I have nimble fingers." Shrugging, his nonchalance made you laugh again and you threw your arms around him.

"You really did this for me?" Through German trenches and hydra-infested bases, you had been through so much together, you knew him inside and out and yet, you were still shocked at how he could still surprise you.

"I'm in it for a lifetime, doll. So, what do you want to do for our wedding? A horse-drawn carriage? Roses down the aisle?" Bucky's love outpoured with his words and you kissed him again.

Shaking your head, "I have something else in mind."

You stood, taking his hands into his as he asked eagerly, "What do you mean?"

Leading him, you kept your eyes peeled ahead, "Steve's a captain right? Can't he just marry us? I don't think I can wait any longer to be called Mrs. Barnes."

"I haven't heard a better idea all day." He agreed, and in his own excitement, he took the lead, running with you to find Steve.

You got married right on the base, Peggy and Stark being your witnesses while Steve officiated your wedding. There was no greater honor than being able to marry his best friend to the love of his life, and having not made a move with Peggy yet, he felt more encouraged, the romance in the air intoxicating.

Stark, who still had quite the chip on his shoulder about you, was still happy nonetheless, having grown fond of Bucky since he met him.

Still, he teased you flirtatiously after your ceremony, not at all caring that Bucky was beside you as he said, "It's a shame to see you married off, but I'll be sure to tell my future son that you were supposed to be their mother."

You rolled your eyes at him, but joked back, "And when I name my son after you Howard, he'll know you as the man that could never take a hint."

"My love, I did not agree to that." Bucky protested, and making eye contact with Steve, he yelled out, "Our son's gonna be named Steve Barnes! No exceptions."

"And what if you have a daughter?" Peggy asked, her hands clasped together before she wrapped her arms around your shoulders in a tight embrace.

"Margaret, of course, after my cherished friend." You leaned into her embrace, happiness bubbling inside of you.

Steve came over to Bucky, putting a hand on his shoulder proudly, "I think Steve could be a girl name too," His comment earning a laugh from everyone.

"All this baby talk..." He took your hand into his, tone suggestive as he boldly declared, "I'm thinking we should probably go make one then, right, love? It is our honeymoon, after all."

He mainly said it to to irritate Howard, who scrunched his nose at Bucky. Steve pressed his lips into a thin line, putting his hands on his hips and shaking his head, but Peggy thought it was oddly endearing, her heart warmed by the passion he had for you.

"I wouldn't be surprised if little Steve is already in there, Bucky." You replied, scratching the back of your head, slightly embarrassed.

"Well, you can never be too sure." He said cheekily, peppering your face with kisses.

"Okay, okay." Steve said, putting his hands up, muttering under his breath, "You guys are like rabbits."

You glared at him, "I heard that, Steve."

-

That was the best day of your life.

It was the first day of forever with Bucky.

But what you didn't know?

Forever would only last a day.

You would have never thought that the last image of your love would be of him holding onto the metal bar on that moving train, your hand outstretched toward him just like the first day you met.

Yet, his hand never touched yours again, and he knew it too, his eyes, although struck with so much fear imbued with so much affection as he managed to tell you he loved you before the metal bar gave out.

The sight of him falling was surreal for you, and in your quickness to act, you were about to jump off the train too, but Steve held you back as you screamed and screamed for him to let you go.

When you got back to the base, you had nothing else on your mind except for Bucky. You couldn't shake the feeling that he was still alive, and you went with that gut feeling all the way.

The only person who knew about your plan was Stark, who had agreed to take his plane back to the mountains. He was the last person you would see in a long time, unbeknownst to you.

Over the mountains, you opened the hatch, looking down at the white abyss. Before you jumped, Stark grabbed your arm, asking you, "What if you don't find him?"

"I will." You replied brazenly, giving him one last kiss on the cheek, "Goodbye Stark. Just know that when you get married and have your son, he’ll change the world, just like you are right now."

With that, you disappeared into the snow.

And for a hundred more years, you became a piece of history, along with Steve, frozen in the ice, the remnants of the two of you kept alive in the minds of Peggy Carter and Howard Stark.

And when Steve was finally out of the ice, finally meeting the son of his old friend, he was surprised to hear your name out of his mouth so casually as he ate his blueberries, "Yeah, my hacking program is named y/n. Apparently she was supposed to be my mother. And man, was she a babe. I totally get where dad was coming from there."

In a funny way, it was meant to honor you. Stark had meant what he said when he told you he'd tell his kid about you, your name coming alive again when Tony was growing up. It was only right for him to know, your last words being about the kid that would grow up to change the world.

Howard never forgot that.

And in his final moments lying on the ground near his car, his wife shot and his life fading, he looked up at his assassinator only to find his lost friend.

"Sergeant Barnes?" He uttered in disbelief, but he was met with blank eyes and silence. And in a last attempt to awaken something familiar in his friend, he spoke your name, "Y/n, she looked for you in the mountains. Your wife."

But those words meant nothing to the Winter Soldier.

Yet, that memory was not lost on Bucky, trapped inside, forced to hear about your fate through the friend he had just murdered.

And when he finally was out of Hydra's grasp, his mind free of that control, his first instinct was to look for your grave.

He found it easily in upstate New York, your family's influence on the entire city marking fame and praise. Your name was engraved on an empty casket in your family mausoleum, and when he saw it, tracing his hands over it, he dropped to his knees, endless sobs escaping him.

And at night, when he’d lie awake, he would always turn his body to the side, arm outstretched to hug the pillow that he always placed beside him. He never did get used to sleeping alone after you.

But still, he couldn't shake that you were somehow alive, and on the day that Steve time travelled, coming back in his old age, Bucky approached him, "When you were back there, did you—"

"No," Steve shook his head, his hands in his pockets, "I didn't find her. But man, she loooved you, Buck."

Taking two pieces of paper out of his pocket, he handed one to Bucky, "She wrote this for you."

"You read it?" Bucky asked, offended.

"I peeked, okay? I had to make sure which one was mine." Steve defended himself.

Unraveling it, it read:

Dear Bucky,

You once told me that you could never imagine a life without me in it. And I could say that was the reason I went after you, so you wouldn't have to. But, honestly, a day didn't even pass after you fell and I felt like I was dying.

I realize I can't live without you. I had everything growing up. But, that's all nothing compared to what I have with you.

If you're reading this now, it means I never did find you. But it also means that you're alive, just like I knew you would be.

I would tell you to be happy, to marry someone else, and have a family.

But, if you do, I'll haunt you for the rest of your life.

I hope you don't mind that I gave Steve the ring you made me. I figured if he had one already, he couldn't use the excuse that he didn't have a ring to finally marry Peggy.

I love you, Bucky, I love you a whole lifetime's worth, even if we didn't get to live it out.

Love,

Your doll

Bucky, although he was struck with another wave of grief, tears welling in his eyes, he laughed, hearing your voice so clearly in his head as if you were saying everything out loud to him.

In his other pocket, Steve took out the same ring box that he had given you all those years ago, "I did end up getting a ring for Peggy. I'm offended, you know? Y/n, she always thought I was so hopeless."

"Hey," Taking the box from Steve, he opened it, remembering the day he gave it to you, the way you looked in the snow still so vivid in his mind, "That's my wife you're talking about."

Steve sighed, "There's a lot more life for you, Buck. If you wanted to move on, I don't think she'd really mind."

"I could, so she would haunt me and I'd finally see her again," Bucky joked, making Steve chuckle.

"But, honestly Steve, I'd rather see her when it's my time to go. She's worth the wait."

-

Author's Note:

Omg omg omg I kind of got carried away but I couldn't resist writing 1940's Bucky. I can't wait to write this next chapter where they see each other again but damn writing this ending actually lowkey had me tearing up

Please let me know what you thought of this chapter! Again, first time writing for Bucky and I had so much momentum after Thunderbolts I had to just get into writing IMMEDIATELY.

If you'd like to be in my taglist, tell me your fave part about the chapter and i'll add you!

Thank you to all my readers. I love you all!!

Love,

nana <3

[eyelambspider]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞. - König

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : a year after a near fatal encounter with an enemy bomb, könig has developed severe ptsd, insomnia, and experienced the loss of his voice. Resorting to sign language and therapy, the large quiet colonel finds little to look forward to then returning to the battlefield as a sniper... and y/n, whom he has been... 'observing' for a while. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.2k 𝐚/𝐧 : gyahhh, i also have a bot on janitor of this bot (he meets y/n in group therapy) so check it out if you like this! this is also quick posted dmm, just wanted to get my writing out there finally 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : dark themes, yandere personalities, mentions of harm/gore/ptsd/death, no mentions of y/n

❝ 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐔𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐓. ❞

König's brows furrowed a bit. The endless droning on from his therapist, Doctor Esteban, having temporarily held his attention. Even as he stared down at the textured brown carpet between his boots.

"König," the Doctor sighed softly, pushing his pristine glasses up his hooked nose as he stared at the broken soldier. He knew better than anyone that war was capable of breaking even the strongest men.

The Colonel sitting in front of him on the repurposed couch was no different.

Just another soldier, no matter his rank, build or height- reduced to nothing but a survivor to the horrors of a brutal bombshell.

"Happiness," he started again, "is a valuable asset. Especially now." Esteban noted, glancing down at his perfect penmanship with a soft grimace.

Today would've been almost exactly a year since it had happened to him. And they both knew it would be nothing more than what it was. An uphill battle towards König's recovery.

"What things make you happy? What things do you like to do recently?" The Doctor's glasses gently clinked again as he shifted, trying to catch the soldiers eye to no avail.

"Have you picked up any hobbies?"

There was a silence, for a moment, but the Doctor waited with a ghost of a smile on his lips. For he had hope, perhaps the only one in the room who currently did.

Hobbies? Happy?

The words stuck like grime against the sides of his skull, unable to be shaken away.

Amongst the nightmares and sleepless nights... there was only one thing that even remotely made him forget about the sound- that haunting sound of the Earth splitting beneath his feet.

The Doctor's smile quirked awkwardly, seeing a visible shift in König and the way he sat. The question of happiness having seem to struck something in the veteran who refused at every turn: to quit service. Even after having lost his voice.

The six foot ten man shifted visibly, his elbows propped loosely on his knees, head tilted downcast... but it was all in his eyes. Those piercing blues that shone from the black sniper veil he wore, cast over his face like a shadow. Lifting finally to glare through the white coat that sat opposed to him.

Side to slow side, König shook his head, the shirt draped over his face hissing almost inaudibly with the movement. The only thing that could fill his newfound silence.

"No?" Esteban quirked a brow, clicking his pen against his paper like he did when he was thinking. Incessantly.

"I know you are eager to get back to the field, König, but I have to clear you for that. And to do that," Esteban gestured between the space, "I need to know you are actively recovering."

While Esteban gave him something to think about, another soft sigh left his lips, considering his and the Colonel's options. The next step, perse. The sound of clicking following.

"When we meet up next, I want to hear of a new hobby? Alright? Show me some progress to report on. It will be good for you," Esteban pushed gently into his head, only to have that piecing glare fall back to the carpeted floor, seemingly going idle again. Or uninterested.

"I do not mean cleaning your sniper, like I know you like to, or any physical activity." An idea struck the Doctor with a pearly smile. "Nothing related to your service," The Doctor set his pen and paper down finally and laced his hands in his lap. "Take up something creative. Knitting, painting, cooking-"

König shot a glare over at the Doctor this time, who in turn held his hands up in mock surrender. "Something new. Try something new and tell me about it next time, hm?" The Doctor looked over the rim of his glasses expecting compliance he knew he would eventually get. If König ever wanted to work in the military again.

That was the only thought that made him happy. Or at least, kept his life's purpose within his control.

König thought it over for a moment before nodding slowly.

As he stood, he remembered to thank Esteban for the time, bringing his hand (palm towards his mouth) and extending outwards. A simple sign he had learned: thank you.

Something new. A new hobby.

It gave him something to think about at least as he left the session, making his way back down the familiar halls of KorTac's base of operations. Merc's and operators alike passed him, or more like, moved around him as he walked. His height and silent presence parting the swarms of rookies and office bugs like the red sea before him. Something that actually hadn't changed for him in the past year.

What changed? What changed in him ran deeper than any physical scars or his inept vocal chords could reach.

It scarred his very soul.

And in all honesty, if he could tell anyone, even his Doctor about it. They would shudder at the thoughts and images that plagued him.

The Colonel made his way down the hall, blue eyes unwavering from its mark... who walked a few feet ahead of him. Unaware just like always that he was following.

Maus.

An imperceptible pang echoed through his chest as he stared ahead.

You had no reason to believe anyone was following you. In fact, you had never noticed him following before. Coincidentally, his path and schedule always lined up with yours. Able to trail after you down a simple hallway after each one of his therapy sessions.

Like clockwork, you were always there. A few steps ahead, but so-so impossibly far behind.

What made you so fucking special?

It was a thought that simmered under his skin like an itch he could never scratch. Uncomfortable and aggressive. Sometimes at night, he wouldn't dream of the bomb.

He wouldn't hear the whistle of it falling from the sky. Or the screams of young boys in men's camouflage using their lasts breaths to cry for home. Or the sound of the devil ripping the earth from beneath his feet. Or the feel of fire latching onto his throat like an iron noose.

No.

He dreamt...

He dreamt-

He snapped out of his thoughts as you turned the corner, your side profile visible to him through the crowd even as you tried to blend in and get back to your work. The sudden change snapped him out of his trance.

He blinked, breath suddenly ragged like he had run a marathon, stopping in the middle of the hallway. Disconnected as people opted to walk around him. As if he was merely a specter in the world of the living.

König didn't know if he dared to turn his head and catch another glimpse of you because...

For the second time in his life, he was scared.

Terrified of the thoughts that now flooded his head.

König's head turned slowly to the right. Body moving on its own accord to follow the sight of your retreating form. The way your hair swayed with your steps. The way you looked down momentarily, flashing a glimpse of your nape to the fluorescent light of the base...

His once dull, tired eyes dilated as he gazed upon the delicate sight of your exposed skin.

At night, he dreamt of wrapping his rough hands around your throat and watching as the light faded from your fucking eyes.

König's heart stopped as the dream reappeared like a vision swimming before him, the itch swarming under his flesh like serpents wanting to strike.

This time, instead of turning away and walking to his quiet quarters, his boots turned right. Continuing to follow after you.

[longhardtransitionreturns]

Twilight Sleep

Colonel Hutcherson's blonde bombshell wife has been making waves in our small town since the moment she got off the train in a bright red pin up dress with more creamy cleavage on display than our poor farm boys had ever seen. Her sea green eyes, red lips, and shapely hips on top of the longest set of gams in stilettos to ever set foot here immediately made her gossip fodder for the bar flies and the busy bodies.

They said she couldn't buy bras off the rack because her breasts were so big. That she sent all the way to New York for her stockings. That her hair was falling out because of all the peroxide she bought to keep her hair a brilliant platinum white.

Either she already had a baby growing in that flat belly of hers when she came to town or Colonel Hutcherson put one in her right quick because it wasn't long before Ashley Hutcherson’s already obscene titties were spilling out of her tops and her belly was growing straight out like a bullet. She wore her dresses so tight the whole town knew the very day her belly button popped from an innie to an outie.

I knew Ashley, of course, because I was her OBGYN. One thing I figured out quickly is there were no thoughts behind those pretty eyes. Ashley was so dumb she could barely string a sentence together and I had to explain to her how her baby was going to come out of her tiny little fuck hole. The look of horror on her face when she realized she was going to have to push a watermelon out from between her legs was priceless.

And that was without me telling her that she had an extremely narrow pelvis and Colonel Hutcherson made such large babies his last wife had labored for 3 days to squeeze a 14 pounder out. She could barely walk for weeks and she was a regular size farm girl.

Ashley was so relieved when I told her about the miracles of twilight sleep I almost popped in my pants right there. She was delighted she’d just go to sleep and wake up with a baby, none of the mess of having to push it out. 

When the time came, Colonel Hutcherson delivered her to my home surgery when her pains were regularly five minutes apart. She was so swollen by that point she was wearing nothing but a white silk robe trimmed with lace over her shoulders. Her pretty face was screwed up in discomfort when I opened the car door to help her out.

Her eyes lit up with relief when she saw me. 

“Oh, doctor, I’m so glad to see you. I’m ready to go to sleep now. I don't like how my tummy feels. It hurts!”

She clutched my arm with one hand and her massive, straining belly with the other as we walked inside. We bid goodbye to her husband at the door and I promised to call him. Her kissed her on the cheek and told her to mind the doctor. 

She shivered when I led her into the delivery room and she spotted the steel table in the middle of the room. Her eyes went immediately to the stirrups.

“We’ll put your legs up there to help the baby come, honey, but first we have to get you ready to go to sleep.”

I coaxed her out of her robe, taking a moment to admire her dark, swollen areolas and how the baby had settled low in her elongated belly. She was so big I had to help her up on to the table. She let out a grunt of discomfort as she lay back and the full weight of her overloaded womb and her massive milk laden tits settled on her small frame.

She was pliant as I strapped her legs into the stirrups but she gasped sharply when I ran my finger through her folds. 

“Let's get you ready, Ashley.”

I didn't bother to explain what I was doing or apologize for the cold temperature of the shaving cream as I spread it over her vulva. She had just a smattering of blonde curls but I ran my razor over them anyway just to have a clean work surface.

“That's a good girl,” I reassured as Ashely moaned through a contraction while I wiped the cream and hair away. She was a groaner but she was clearly trying not to writhe too much in the stirrups.

I let her recover from the contraction while I prepared the enema supplies. When I approached her with the tip of the tube and a bit of lube, I saw fear flash across her face for the first time.

“Where's that gonna go?”

I smiled reassuringly. “We need to clean out your insides to make room for the baby.”

I slipped it in quick, shushing Ashley's yelp of protest, and allowed the warm water to start flowing. She was dumb but quickly figured out what was happening when an urgent pressure started to build in her bowels.

“Ow, ow, my belly, it's too full already! It hurts!” She rubbed the underside of her aching orb, trying to twist to the side to alleviate the pain in her gurgling gut but stopped by the straps on her ankles in the stirrups. “I feel like I need to poop, why are you doing this? Ow!”

I pressed my palm against her pelvis, rubbing firmly. She cried out in protest.

“We wouldn't want you to poop on me or your baby's head, no would we, Ashley? I can't believe you're being such a bad girl. I'm sure the Colonel told you to do as the doctor says.”

Ashley looked betrayed now, scared, in indescribable pain, exposed on a table with no way to know what was coming next or to do anything to stop it.

As if to illustrate the point a contraction gripped Ashely's roiling abdomen and she screamed, full throated, as tears streamed down her face. The agony of contracting with a full bag of warm, salty water in her ass broke any last semblance of composure and Ashley started begging me to make the pain stop.

I secured the catch bag underneath her and prepared the drugs I would need to administer twilight sleep while Ashley screamed and pleaded her way through three more contractions. I realized quickly she would need extra restraints while under because she was tossing her aching body wildly, huge tits swinging. 

When I finally removed the plug the noise the laboring woman made was so erotic I got hard instantly. It was a groan of agonized relief followed immediately by a yelp of pain when yet another contraction closed around her middle. 

Ashley was spent, legs splayed limply, her bowels empty and her ass clenching. The baby had dropped so low by this point she was starting to feel him in her aching hips. She was unimaginably full and the ordeal of the enema had taken it out of her.  After the pain passed, she gathered her composure enough to look up at me beseechingly. 

“Put me out now, please. I don’t want to hurt this bad anymore.”

I had to adjust my rock hard cocktail before moving to her side to slip my special cocktail into her IV. I stroked her face as she started blinking and nodding her head from side to side. I watched as awareness left her eyes and her mouth dropped open with a weak groan.

“Ashley?” I tapped her cheeks, moving her jaw from side to side. Her green eyes stared up without recognition. I reached down and tweaked her engorged nipple and her lips opened to emit a moan of pain.

This was my crowning, pun intended, achievement. I'd perfected a scopolamine cocktail that turns the patient’s brain to mush but leaves her aware enough to feel and respond to the pain of labor in order to be a beautiful, brain dead birthing doll for my and my patron's pleasure.

I left Ashely lying on the bed, contracting now about every three minutes and really feeling it, measuring by her noises, to make a phone call. Then I put an oxygen cannula under her nose, cleaned her up between her legs, checked her dilation, and wrapped her wrists and ankles in towels so there wouldn't be any questions about bruises. 

When John Hutcherson arrived, he looked as eager to get the night started as I was. We'd met during the war when I served as the chief medical officer of his battlefield command. We found out one pregnant local girl later that we shared some frowned upon predilections and now, ten years and a lifetime of experience later, we partake of his wealth and my medical genius as often as we can without raising suspicions.

It's John's wife so, of course, he gets to go first and however he likes. He loses his pants quickly after he walks in and sees her strapped spread eagle, her arms straight out and tied to the table and her legs secured in stirrups. She's screaming through a contraction and oblivious to our presence.

John moves on her like an animal in heat, plunging his generous, throbbing member into her exposed, dilating cunt without any preamble. She shouts as she is brutally and unexpectedly skewered on his cock while a contraction is still ripping through her. He doesn't give her even a moment before he starts pistoning in and out of her so hard her back is slapping up and down on the steel table.

Her titties bounce lewdly, slapping from side to side atop her grotesquely swollen belly, as he rails her with all his strength. I finally go up and hold Ashley’s head to keep in from hitting the table due to the force of her husband’s pounding. Her leaking green eyes are filled with fear and pain but it’s also clear the struggling woman isn’t capable of understanding what’s happening to her. Her world has narrowed to the pain and fullness in her tits, hips, and cunt, and as far as she is concerned, it’s never ending. 

Hutcherson blows his first load when she has an especially hard contraction on his cock. He lets out a surprised gasp and then he’s jerking as he’s milked by his wife’s laboring uterus. Their cries blend in the air, one of utter pain and the other of blissful pleasure. 

When he’s finally able to pull out, his flagging cock plops loose with a squelching sound. His cum mixed with blood and amniotic fluid floods out of her and on to the cloth below. 

The brutal pounding leaves Ashley listless and moaning with a little bit of drool making its way down her chin. It’s part of the beauty of the drug that even though she’s blasted out of her mind, her body is going to push the baby out no matter what. 

Over the next several hours, we take turns playing with her engorged nipples, sucking them to induce contractions. John sticks his hand up her through a couple, shivering with arousal when she cries out and tries to get away from the intrusion. Eventually her agonized sounds change to desperate screeches as transition hits and the contractions become longer and unbearable. We each dip into her a few times while she endures the most painful part of labor and both barely keep from cumming when she clamps down on our dicks and wails. 

It takes her hours to get the baby down but it’s huge in her tiny pelvis and when it gets lodged in her hips, she starts vocalizing low, loud grunts as her body tries to expel the huge head. I almost blew my load too soon when I wedged my dick up against her massive stomach and rolled her hips side to side to help urge the huge load down. 

She screamed bloody murder when it finally crowned and John held it there for a good long while, stroking her engorged clit and easing the head out so she didn’t tear. The body was huge, however, and we had to put her legs as far back as we could to help her deliver the shoulders. Her cries of pain echoed off the walls as I roughly jerked the rest of the body out of her sore cunny. A huge flood of liquid shot out of her bloody slit and she was left with her pussy bared, gaped open and dripping birth fluid. 

I handed the baby off to my loyal nurse who maintained the nursery in the next room and turned back to my friend. He was hard a rock, stroking his wife’s ruined cunny. She was still visibly hurting, both from the sheer size of what just came out and the after birth contractions. 

I climbed on top of the beg, squatted over her deflated belly, and put my dick in between her massive tits. Behind me John let out an erotic groan as he sunk his massive length deep into his wife’s loose, bleeding pussy. It made a nasty squelching sound when he pulled all the way back out and slammed back in as hard as he could. He proceeded to brutally rail his wife’s post birth pussy and I came all over her tits while she flopped up and down on the bed, screaming from the pain. 

The next time I saw Lucy, she was back in her white silk robe, a 17lb baby suckling at her ample breast. She’d reapplied her lipstick but her eyes were bloodshot and she looked like she’d been through hell. She woke up initially screaming about the pain in her pussy and she was still sitting awkwardly, an ice pack on her bruised and throbbing sex. 

That being said, she was thrilled she didn’t remember a single bit of it. She thanked me profusely and told her husband she wanted me to deliver all of her babies. Once her poor little cunny healed, of course. 

Josh and I shared a look over her head. We were already counting down to Ashley’s next labor and delivery. 

[crazymadpassionatelove]

A little sneak peak of something in the works...

Oh look! Finished product here...

Dedicated to my fave blonde bombshell @ab4eva 🩷

---

Elvis Presley Quietly Marries At Home

The man with the famous pelvis is now a married man! Colonel Parker confirmed that Elvis married Paramount actress Leona Grace at his home in Memphis on the nineteenth of March. The wedding comes on the heels of rumors that the new Mr. and Mrs. Presley are due for a visit from the stork. The Colonel’s response? “Those are questions for a different day”. The hush hush, spur of the moment wedding did not follow an engagement announcement and no pictures of the happy couple seem to exist beyond set outtake photos. The event reportedly took place in the evening with just family and close friends in attendance totaling about 50 people. A red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting was served for dessert and sources say that Elvis's own music was played late into the night as friends danced in the backyard of Presley's Graceland mansion.

“See ya in a bit, baby doll, gotta meet with the Colonel about some stuff,” his lips lingered on her skin while he eyed her in the mirror. Leona couldn't suppress the sour look that appeared on her face. 

“What sort of stuff?” she questioned cooly. 

“Some movie stuff, ain't nothing for you to worry that pretty head about,” his tone was casual yet dismissive. Those were fighting words for Leona, who stomped her foot like a child and demanded to know just exactly why he was allowed to make movies while she had been regulated to pick flowers in the garden with the dogs, lounge in the pool, and shop herself silly with Patsy. She felt like a bird in a cage, albeit a gold-plated diamond-studded cage. 

“Oh ya want me to start calling you my pretty little baby bird?” he teased, those long fingers, perfect for reaching all the right spots, were tickling at her ribs. Leona yanked away from his grasp and pouted. “Baby, you're a wife now, my wife, I'm gonna take care of things. No need for you to stress yourself and slave away to send money back home to your momma and granny, I had my daddy send a check two days ago,” Elvis explained, sliding on a pair of sunglasses that made him look utterly delectable as he shifted his weight from one leg to another in the doorway, seemingly unable to keep still. 

---

More to come soon....

[darkmaga-returns]

10 stories they chose not to tell you this week.

The Vigilant Fox

Jan 19, 2025

10 – Bill Gates’ New Bioterror Project Exposed

Gates revealed to the Wall Street Journal that he had a three-hour conversation with Trump about “global health,” saying he was “frankly impressed.”

What Gates isn’t telling you is that he has been funding risky research projects, including a $9.5 million effort at the University of Wisconsin-Madison to study how bird flu viruses (H5N1) might evolve to infect humans.

According to epidemiologist 

Nicolas Hulscher, MPH

, this work could actually make bird flu more transmissible to humans and “qualifies as bioterrorist activity.”

“And also recently, the Russian Ministry of Defense gave a briefing, and in the briefing, they laid out who is funding these illicit African Biolabs run by the US Military. It’s none other than the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation and even the Clinton Foundation,” Hulscher revealed.

“So these guys are funding this extremely dangerous research. It’s risking millions of lives,” he warned.

Bill Gates has also explicitly referred to India as his “laboratory” for testing experimental drugs. Such statements raise serious ethical questions about the billionaire’s intentions, especially when he openly expresses a desire to reduce the world’s population.

Adding fuel to the fire, the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) recently announced an investment of nearly $600 million in Moderna’s bird flu vaccine development. As journalist Maria Zeee (@zeee_media) pointed out, “Someone is expecting a return on that investment.”

“Why is a man that funds bioterrorist activities, speaking bioterrorist-like activities, rather, speaking with the president about public health?” Hulscher asked.

“He should not be allowed to meet with the President. In my opinion, he should actually be behind bars.”

Meanwhile, more damning evidence continues to mount against the COVID-19 injections. 

Nicolas Hulscher, MPH

 lays out the evidence, demonstrating why these shots should be pulled from the market.

Watch as he presents the facts.

(See 9 More Revealing Stories Below)

9 - Bill Maher Torches California’s Disastrous Wildfire Response in Brutal Monologue

8 - James O’Keefe Exposes Secret Pentagon Plot to Sabotage Trump’s Return

7 - Scientists make another damning discovery about the COVID-19 mRNA injections.

6 - WaPo Cartoonist Arrested for Child Porn Depicted Trump Supporters as Nazis for Complaining About Grooming

While you’re here, don’t forget to subscribe to this page for more weekly news roundups.Subscribe

#5 - Trump’s Pick for CIA Chief Obliterates Adam Schiff, Sets Him Straight on Hunter’s Laptop

#4 - The FDA finally bans food dye Red No. 3, citing serious concerns about its link to cancer.

#3 - Shocking Cover-Up Exposed in Explosive Tucker Carlson Interview

#2 - Arab Officials: Trump Envoy Did More to Pressure Israel in One Meeting Than Biden Did All Year

#1 - Storm-ravaged North Carolina sends a dire message to America.

Plus, Lt. Colonel Pete Chambers joins to discuss the mounting security concerns surrounding Trump’s Inauguration.

Share

BONUS #1 - Dave Chappelle Captures Attention With His Comments on Trump and Jimmy Carter

BONUS #2 - The Meat Upgrade You Didn’t Know You Needed

BONUS #3 - Mel Gibson Drops Two Medical Bombshells on the Joe Rogan Podcast

BONUS #4 - How to Get Ivermectin, Z-Pak and More

BONUS #5 - Jeffrey Epstein’s Former Cellmate Alleges Shocking Scheme to Impeach Trump

[dertaglichedan]

Pentagon secretly planted Area 51 UFO conspiracy theory to hide classified weapons program: bombshell report

Some of the most prevalent UFO conspiracy theories — including about aliens being housed at Area 51 in Nevada — were fueled by the Pentagon in an attempt to provide cover for secret weapons programs, according to a bombshell report.

A review by the Department of Defense found that in the 1980s, an Air Force colonel visited a Nevada bar near Area 51 and gave the owner fabricated photos of flying saucers near the secret government base, according to a review of the 2024 report by the Wall Street Journal.

The incident renewed local fervor over UFOs, with the now-retired colonel confessing to Pentagon investigators that he was on an official mission to spread disinformation and hide the true purpose of the site, where the government was testing the first-ever stealth warplane, the F-117 Nighthawk.

[marley-manson]

it's very funny to me that when Mash got super into characters manipulating their friends to prank them as subplot fodder, Hawkeye's like the only one who never gets a plot like this.

Hawkeye, champion gaslighter and manipulator extraordinaire of the first three seasons, a dude who invented a whole person to defraud the military out of thousands of dollars, a dude who gaslighted a colonel into early retirement, and a dude who took out two(2) healthy appendixes, among plenty of other schemes, never uses his frankly legendary skills for evil

you get plots where Charles or BJ pit their friends against each other for ther own amusement, where the entire rest of the cast works together to drive Hawkeye into a fit of paranoia, Potter terrorizing our faves with a grand manipulation scheme in one episode, and plenty more where BJ works to turn the camp against Hawkeye for fun, but I can't think of a single subplot where Hawkeye does anything similar to anyone who isn't an antagonist.

he has a few revenge pranks on BJ in the episode tags, but these are basic straightforward ones that don't involve gaslighting or manipulation, just shaving half his moustache or letting him wake up naked in the nurse's tent. His pranks in April Fools were straightforward and boring as far as I remember without rewatching. Bombshells could almost qualify except convincing everyone Marilyn Monroe was coming was a total accident, Hawkeye just made an offhand joke that snowballed.

I think the closest he comes is the revenge prank he, BJ, and Margaret pull on Charles in An Eye For a Tooth to make him feel guilty, and he's only one of three people involved in that.

And lol I think the reason is because later Mash prefers Hawkeye to be a pathetic victim rather than an impressive mastermind, but it sure has the accidental side effect of making him come across as a much better friend. Like we know he has the chops to make BJ a social pariah in revenge after an episode like Bottom's Up, but he'll stick to something lighthearted because he reserves those schemes for psychiatrists trying to section him, or colonels trying to get people killed, or Frank.

[bthingsart]

Libby Sk8er Girl #198: "Boop!"

Billie is fully aware of personal space and boundaries. She just thinks she's cool enough to ignore them…

By Brian T. Sullivan | December 11, 2024

[ultraericthered]

The Lost Potential Of Dr. Regal & Nebula

I've got some thoughts to spare regarding this guy:

Dr. Regal, leader of the Nebula netcrime syndicate and Big Bad in both the Megaman Battle Network 4 and Battle Network 5 games. Regarded as the weak link among the main villains in the series, far weaker a Big Bad than his father Dr. Wily, and would be considered about as solid a Big Bad as Sean from BN2 at best were it only not for his horrid showing in BN4. While almost a total waste in the games, he was made into a far more effective villain in the anime and manga adaptations (both titled Megaman NT Warrior in the west.)

I've talked about that before, but I believe that while Regal himself got rescued from evil mediocrity by the adaptations, Regal as the son of Dr. Wily and Regal as the leader of Nebula never quite reached his full potential anywhere in the franchise. For sure the anime handled the former better than the games and the manga handled the latter better than the games, but neither got it down definitively.

In BN4, Regal drops the bombshell that Wily is his father completely out of nowhere during his nonsensical moral relativity ramble at the end of the main story, literally seconds before he drops himself to his apparent demise. Obviously that's some shit writing, but BN5, to its credit, tried to salvage the idea and make something of it by having Regal and Yuichiro play off each other, with their plot all about Regal trying to finish work that was begun by both of their genius fathers, Dr. Hikari/Light and Dr. Wily respectively, only Regal sought to abuse that work in service of his own crazy scheme for world destruction. But then the game kind of sabotages that by bringing in Wily himself at the climax, with only the Colonel Version actually giving you the full scene and showing that it's even him. There is no substantial interaction between the father and son before the former breaks the latter's mind and erases his memories. Regal becomes a goodie who joins Yuichiro's research team, and then in BN6 Wily's the Big Bad once again and Regal never shows up and is never talked about.

So I can see why the anime had Regal as one of Wily's adopted children and the manga left their connection untouched. Like if you weren't going to make much use of him being Wily's son by blood, then what's even the point of going in that direction to start with?

But the problem with Nebula might be more galling to me personally. This is what "Nebula" is named for, what Regal plans to unleash:

Nebula Gray is a malicious software program made entirely of Dark Power, embodying all the darkness within the human soul, with the power to amplify a person's darkest emotions, form for them dark thoughts, and feed their darkest impulses, even giving them tangible form. The power from it in its base form serves as the core source of the Dark Power that goes into the making of Nebula's Dark Chips. The manga takes it a step further by saying that Nebula Gray is the digitally generated vessel for an eldritch god of darkness and destruction who sourced all Dark Power. Holy shit, that is EPIC.

Didn't feel all that epic in the game, though! And honestly, that's not on Nebula Gray itself - it services as a final boss just fine. I realized that the real problem here was with the Nebula syndicate. They did not work in a way that properly built towards the threat of Nebula Gray. And unlike all iterations of WWW or Gospel from BN2, there are no notable, named, fully designed humans in Nebula aside from Dr. Regal himself. Everyone else are generic masked Mooks.

As for the “Darkloid” programs that serve the syndicates, both BN4 and BN5 put together only give us these six:

They're alright, but Laserman.EXE (Regal's personal Navi) is only present in BN4, three of them are only present in BN5, and Dark Megaman is like Negaduck in being technically two different entities.

Personally, I think these programs from the BN4-BN6 trilogy that were not affiliated with Nebula should've been Nebula Darkloida:

I feel like this would round out Nebula's Darkloids to give them a far more distinct identity. WWW had a varied lot of minion programs, while Gospel was more distinctly mechanical/metallic in their programs aesthetics. Nebula, given what it's named for and sought to unleash upon the net, should've been full horror/monster-based. I mean, it's already kind of there with the killer android, the bat-winged vampire, the dark storm genie, the abominable snowball man, the alien being, and the evil Megaman clone. Even Regal himself, as I've noted, is like Victor Frankenstein crossed with Vlad Tepes/Count Dracula. Adding some more creepy, wierd looking programs to the mix, including a literal Frankenstein's Monstrosity in Junkman.EXE, would've helped to really push and solidify that vibe.

As for the lack of human operators? I think the approach to that needed to be something along the lines of what another despicably monstrous evil scientist, one Akihiro Kurata, did in Digimon Savers with his Bio-Hybrid minions. The human operators would be unseen because they'd be directly synchronized with the Darkloids, with the Dark Chip serving as a medium between the boosted powers of the Darkloids and the soul of the human connected/merged with their programs. Not only is this extra fiendish for corrupting humans with Dark Power and really leaning more into the drug/substance abuse angle of the Dark Chips, but in creating a dilemma where if Megaman deletes any of these Darkloids he could risk killing a human being. And that in addition to what Dark Power does to programs and how Nebula gladly has programs sacrificed as cannon fodder would make the syndicate as strong as Gospel in terms of being a scary threat.

Also, Regal could've afforded to be more like his anime incarnation because that Regal was fucking GOATed in what a menace he was.

[aliypop]

HEAD CANONS FOR MY EP FANFIC OC

CECELIA VALMOS

SO these headcanons are more so her earlier years, but I hope you all like her she lives in my brain rent-free!

Cecelia Valmos was born on January 7th 1935 In North Carolina

Elvis and Cecelia met, actually during the Louisiana Hayride in which her mother brought her along to a one night only concert of hers.

The Hayride performance was the reason Cecelia really took music seriously, not that she didn't before, but her mother was a famous jazz singer, and Cecelia preferred Blues and Rock n Roll

Cecelia wouldn't say while starting her career under her mothers label that she was obsessed with Elvis, but when the two started playing gigs on the same stage, she had wanted nothing more than for him to notice her.

When Cecelia and her mother decided to open a recording studio in Memphis and keep their NYC studio open, she didn't think she'd find herself running into Elvis so much especially in Beale Street

Cecelia loves Mustang cars the way Elvis loves Cadillacs

Cecelia would sneak out of her mothers tour Rehersals if she knew Elvis was in town.

Cecelia and the colonel don't exactly see eye to eye, but not as much as Her mother and the colonel don't.

When Cecelia finally got to meet Elvis, it was at Club Handy by the doing of BB King.

Cecelia, in her early career, was very well seen as risqué for her choices in dresses, the nearly skin-tight pencil skirt dresses, and her outrageous rockabilly hair, thus earning her the title of " The lady Elvis."

It was a compliment until it wasn't... although it never was a compliment in the first place.

When the two did start dating, both their managers agreed it was safer for them to hide their relationship rather than be open about it.

They were bad about hiding it.

Cecelia had a huge crush on James Dean, Frank Sinatra, and Cab Calloway growing up.

She's a Betty Boop Fanatic.

A Billy Holiday Fan

And Ella Fitzgerald

Her favorite superhero is Wonder Woman

She inspires to be a bombshell like the classic Hollywood greats.

When Elvis was drafted, she was devastated. She'd go go Graceland every day wondering if he was back yet.

Gladys found her dedication to writing him letters very sweet.

However, Cecelia would barely eat or drink anything unless she knew he was okay.

Vernon couldn't get her to even sleep.

When Gladys passed and he returned, she refused to leave him. She gave him space but equally grieved. Knowing how it is to be close to one's mother, she could only imagine the pain he felt.

Her death impacted her mother, learning that Gladys and her mother Denise were friends when she had her first tour down south and Gladys, although not having much housed her when no one else would.

Cecelia and Elvis both have nicknames for each other, Babydoll and Sugar pie.

Elvis and Cecelia have been known for having conversations via eyebrows.

Cecelia's favorite show is I love Lucy

Although in her early 20s it wasn't her favorite genre so she'd say, but if Elvis were to ask her to sing it, she'd sing dream a little dream of me as she's scratching his head.

This usually gets him to fall asleep instantly

Cecelia is a morning person .

Shes a film fanatic.

Elvis caught her a few times while on set, saying how she'd make the movie better if she had her way.

Her favorite movie of Elvis's is King Creole, it holds a soft spot in her heart.

Not only can she play guitar, but violin and it's rare if she plays it.

They once went to go see Birds, and Cecelia was terrified to leave the house for a week.

Elvis once took her to a carnival and took her on the ferris Wheel in which she had her eyes closed until they were back on solid ground.

These are just a few head canons I have, but there's a lot more coming!

Taglist

@darkmoviesquotespizza

[ylespar]

"Garry Nolan, asked about the aftermath of Disclosure, explains that he has spoken with Karl Nell and David Grusch on the subject. It became clear that there are many things that can go wrong if information is released to the public in the wrong way. So Colonel Karl Nell wishes to 'prepare the instruments of power, (...) prepare the instruments of government and Society in a careful way to accept the information more readily.'"

Alexis Druaux, "Garry Nolan interview and new bombshell at the Sol Foundation Symposium" [Ref.]

[knoxfeed]

“Ignore the Gunfire You Hear”: UK Colonel Dismisses Israeli Soldiers’ Confessions of Mass Killings at Gaza Aid Sites as ‘Hamas Propaganda’ Editing Team / June 28, 2025 at 08:17AM/ https://ift.tt/XU6lwfQ image/video: https://ift.tt/DzpYOEC Home-News-“Ignore the Gunfire You Hear”: UK Colonel Dismisses Israeli Soldiers’ Confessions of Mass Killings at Gaza Aid Sites as ‘Hamas Propaganda’ “Ignore the Gunfire You Hear”: UK Colonel Dismisses Israeli Soldiers’ Confessions of Mass Killings at Gaza Aid Sites as ‘Hamas Propaganda’ Screenshot Gaza (Quds News Network)- British Colonel Richard Kemp has dismissed a bombshell Haaretz report that exposed Israeli military orders to fire on starved Palestinians near Gaza aid distribution sites. Kemp, speaking from a Gaza Humanitarian Foundation (GHF) center, called the Israeli soldier testimonies in the report “Hamas propaganda.” “You’ve heard a lot of propaganda about violent attacks around the GHF sites here. It’s all lies generated by Hamas to discredit the GHF,” Kemp said in a video posted online. Kemp claimed Hamas hates the GHF because it delivers aid directly to Palestinians without Hamas interference. But while he spoke, the sound of machine gun fire was clearly and repeatedly heard in the background. The Haaretz report, published earlier this week, includes shocking testimonies from Israeli soldiers. They confirmed that commanders ordered them to shoot unarmed, starved civilians approaching aid centers, many of them in desperate search of food and water. “They shoot as if the crowd is an attacking force,” said one Israeli soldier. “No tear gas, no warnings, just bullets, mortars, and grenades.” In a separate video shared by Kemp, a group of starved Palestinians can be heard chanting “We love you, Trump,” before desperately pleading: “Give us water. Do you have water?” The video went viral. Viewers quickly pointed out the background gunfire. When asked about it, Kemp dismissed concerns and said, “It’s a war zone.” His note contradicts that fact that these “GHF aid centers” are located in so-called Israeli red zones; areas completely under Israeli military control where no Palestinian presence is allowed. Rescue teams have reportedly been shot at while trying to reach the wounded in these areas. Despite clear audio of gunfire and direct soldier accounts, Kemp continues to defend the aid operation and dismiss the evidence. Critics argue that his presence at GHF sites serves as a propaganda tool to mask the genocide. The Haaretz investigation revealed that Israeli forces use starvation as a tactic to control and punish Gaza’s population. Soldiers admitted they received direct orders to open fire on civilians near food sites, even when there was no threat. One commander said the massacres at GHF sites are called the operation “Salty Fish,” a twisted play on the children’s game “Red Light, Green Light.” Kemp is zionist and has long defended Israeli military actions. He has repeatedly praised the Israeli army and has spoken at pro-Israel conferences. His public loyalty to Israel has drawn criticism, especially as he continues to speak against human rights reports and survivor testimonies from Gaza. URL Copied

[andronetalks]

Pentagon secretly planted Area 51 UFO conspiracy theory to hide classified weapons program: bombshell report

New York Post By Ronny ReyesPublished June 8, 2025, 2:35 p.m. ET Some of the most prevalent UFO conspiracy theories — including about aliens being housed at Area 51 in Nevada — were fueled by the Pentagon in an attempt to provide cover for secret weapons programs, according to a bombshell report. A review by the Department of Defense found that in the 1980s, an Air Force colonel visited a Nevada…

[darkmaga-returns]

Joachim Hagopian

Parts 1 and 2 of this series exposing the two biggest Khazarian mafia lies leading humanity to teeter on the edge of extinction, both biblical lies falsely justify Israel’s very existence at the literal expense of Palestine’s disappearance. Israeli citizens are neither the birthright descendants of Judea nor the rightful claimants of a dubious ancient temple again at the literal expense of the Islam’s enshrined Al-Aqsa Mosque’s disappearance. Using historical lies and omissions to pretend to be Semites in order to obliterate the real biblical Semites will no longer be tolerated as the world learns this ungodly deception. In the name of Babylonian Talmudism thinly disguised as Jewish Supremacism, scientific factual truth will not permit barbaric heathens to erase whole pages of history and a whole people off the face of this earth. Part 3 of “The Real Jewish Problem” sources an important yet conveniently overlooked book nearly three quarters of a century old, almost as old as the Jewish nation-state itself. John O. Beaty’s The Iron Curtain over America provides the missing link between Ashkenazim and Khazar, unmasking the Jewish cloak of deception as the Synagogue of Satan caught in the act.

On December 4th, former Veterans Today editor Gordon Duff posted Beaty’s exposé in its entirety on his theinteldrop.org, despite its obscurity for decades. Author John Beaty (1890-1961) worked as an English professor and department head at Southern Methodist University (SMU) in Dallas, Texas for many years. The World War II veteran served in US Army Intelligence Service, ending up a Lt. Colonel, before the conservative patriot resumed his career in academia, authoring a total of 14 books along the way. But none were more important than his December 1951 cautionary nonfiction tale of The Iron Curtain over America, published at the height of Red Scare McCarthyism. In addition to theinteldrop.org deeming Beaty’s bombshell book significant enough to post it online, writer-publisher Ron Unz also posted it on his unz.com, and it can also be found on pdf as well as Amazon.

A brief bio into the author SMU Professor John Beaty. In 1926 he was selected by the Alfred Kahn Foundation to travel to 29 nations to meet various luminaries in governments, politics and education in order to investigate and report on world affairs, which his report upon completion a year and a half later drew limited distribution, only the Foundation and a local Southwest newspaper published his findings. His other books continued selling primarily as college textbooks and his 1940 novel Image of Life was favorably observed, focusing on the world’s degraded cultural standards just ahead of the Second World War elicited little to no response from critics or reviews.

[wamuzimedia]

Raila Drops Bombshell: Removing Ruto Won’t Solve Kenya’s Crisis!

Opposition leader Raila Odinga has downplayed the push to remove President William Ruto from office, arguing that it won’t resolve Kenya’s economic struggles. Speaking at the funeral of retired pilot Colonel James Nguyo Gitahi in Maanzoni, Machakos County, Odinga responded to critics questioning his cooperation with Ruto’s administration. He dismissed the #RutoMustGo movement, stating that…