#first deployment

[lightningstrikesworld]

My first deployment. Wow. I had never been ANYWHERE and now I was standing in Livorno Italy. We were going to be there for 5 more days. A few of the older guys asked me to go with them and I went. I was so happy that I did. We had the most amazing food. We were walking down the street and this older gentleman comes out of his and starts asking us to come and eat at his restaurant. He said he will feed us.

We walk into this man living room in his house. There’s a big long table and it’s has enough chairs for us, I honestly don’t remember how many guys were with us, maybe 8, maybe 12. I don’t remember. Anyway he brings out baskets of bread and bottles of wine and puts them in the table. He tells us that this wine recipe is 400 years old and it’s his families and he hopes that we enjoy it. Look back then I did not drink wine at all but that was the amazing.

Then he starts bringing out food. Bowls and bowls of pasta and salad and pork and vegetables. Oh, no. You didn’t miss the part where we ordered food because we didn’t. He just said he was going to feed us and that’s what he was doing. He filled this table with 10 guys at it with food. We all ate something from every single bowl on the table. We are everything. And drank ALOT of wine.

So he brings us the bill. One of the older guys breaks out a calculator and I look at him sideways and I have no idea what he’s doing. Then he tells us how it is for each person, either in Italian money or in USD. I think it was Lira back then but I may be wrong. Anyway it’s like 6$ a piece. For all of this food.

We gave him like 300$ and he was deeply offended that we gave him so much but we enjoyed the food and he just wouldn’t not take it. We paid the amount of the bill and he accepted a 40$ tip.

We all went back separately and together a few times over the next few days and had smaller meals at his “restaurant “ and we all kept over tipping him until we left.

Seriously that was my first day, first meal, first being somewhere other than home for me.

I NEVER knew what an impact it would have on me later in life. What a great memory to share.

Winter of 1998 I think

USS Enterprise

HS7

[phantomrose96]

I’m working on a Christmas gift for my mom. It’s a page-a-day calendar website of her dog.

[whistler-king]

WARNING - this is very sad ok?! Don’t read it unless you want the big sads. TW death

I’ve listened to ‘ I hope you die first’ by Ashe too many times today and now can’t stop thinking about Icemav to it.

Ice staying up nights worried about Mav and his tendencies to risk it at the first opportunity, he loves that about him. How it seems like he’s reckless but really his brain is just fast enough to think through all the probabilities, and with the trust he has in skill - he relies on that to answer any other doubts he has. (Mind you, Maverick is just sleeping peacefully next to him, smile on his face while he dreams the sweetest dreams about whatever havoc he will cause next.

“You're faster than I've ever been

And I love to see you win

It doesn't even make me sad

'Cause I don't mind coming in last”

Anyway, after a while, he’s like wtf, Goose is gone, Carole’s not gonna be here for long, who’s gonna look after him when I’m gone. What if I’m not there if he actually does miscalculate? Who’s going to pull him out of whatever mess he’s made?

So he starts to plot, yeah he stops smoking, he’ll give up the jet to climb the ladder to keep them together and have enough sway in their circle.

“Yeah, I'll get inventive, I've got incentive, you make me wanna change”

And while he loves his job, loves the navy and all the friends he’s made along the way. He’s also like, when he’s gone…what do I really have to go on for. He knows he’ll be like those sweet, sad couples that are so connected that they end up dying a few days/weeks apart. Keeping each other going til the end.

He would never want to see that for Mav though, nah, when he’s gone he would want his spark to live on. Keep spreading his spirit, he just knows the next generation of pilots need him.

But it never occurred to him that it might be out of his control, that, despite how much effort he put in - he still gets sick. That they would have get a good few years tacked on when he’s in remission.

When it comes back, he’s at peace with it because he can see that Maverick will have people around him. He just knows they will work it out with Bradley, even if he is grounded, after this mission there’s no way the Navy wouldn’t keep him even for his knowledge and skills alone.

He’s had a good life with him, one he never thought he would have before they met. Despite all the obstacles, all the arguments - they actually got their shit together. They had their happiest days together, he laughed enough for two lifetimes with him.

“You always beat me to the punchline

And the punch bowl at the party

Where you're first to dance and first to say,

‘Goodnight’”

And anyway, it could hardly be the end for them when he would just wait for him on the other side. He’s had enough practice arguing to get his way with whoever’s in charge over there too.

“I don't wanna say this

But, if I don't make it

Please don't rush for me

I'll be waiting”

[soldiermom1973]

I found out there's a singing group where I live. I signed up the other day. Practice is tonight. I haven't sang in a group in forever and my anxiety is through the roof. I almost don't want to go, but I love to sing more than my anxiety is making me afraid. Wish me luck.

[msmc-796-official]

Mission Report: Comms Transcript #1

[BEGIN TRANSMISSION]

Angel: [static noises as the audio cuts in] -get outta my way, Slipshod! I can't line up my shots with your Toku's fat ass in the way.

Slipshod: Like hell I will! Go steal one of Kennedi's kills, you thief!

Angel: Not that one, dipshit, the one behind y- shit! Slipshod, watch your six!

Slipshod: Huh-? Ah, fu- [radio cuts out]

[transmission picks up a barrage of gunfire]

Lockbreaker: Heads up!

[transmission picks up the loud THWACK! of metal on metal, followed by a burst of Flayer shotgun fire]

Lockbreaker: You're welcome. Be more careful next time, Slipshod; you're lucky my D/D wasn't charged.

Slipshod: Oh, piss off. Was that the last of them?

Angel: Command says there's one more left. Big one, from the looks of it. Approaching due north-northeast, though they can't get a clean scan of it.

Lockbreaker: Command, this is Lockbreaker. Requesting coordinates of remaining hostile; do you copy?

[transmission picks up faint radio chatter]

Lockbreaker: Coordinates incoming. Is that it over there? The big grey thing?

Slipshod: Big grey...? Aw, fuck, not another Balor. Son of a bitch. I'm already pushing heat cap. Welp, might as well torch some nanites on the way out.

Angel: Balor? Why does it... wait... no... [radio cuts out]

Lockbreaker: Command, this is Detachment 796 "Heaven's Fury" reporting in, requesting permission to break formation and engage with the enemy. Lancer MSMC-796-1 "Lockbreaker" is active and ready to engage. Slipshod, Angel, status report.

Slipshod: Lancer MSMC-796-2 "Slipshod", active and ready.

Angel: ... [extended radio silence]

Lockbreaker: Angel! Status report!

Angel: [muffled] Something is wrong...

Slipshod: Phoenix? Are you okay?

Angel: Something is wrong. Something is not right. Why do we know you? Why do I- we- I- [radio cuts out]

Slipshod: Phoenix! Shit, fuck, not now! Command, this is Slipshod. Lancer Angel has been compromised. I repeat, Lancer MSMC-796-3 "Angel" has been compromised. Requesting disengagement from combat on her behalf, over. [radio crackles in the affirmative] Kennedi, do you think you can keep our Balor friend distracted for a bit? I gotta get Phoenix to snap out of it.

Lockbreaker: I can certainly try. Any advice on engaging?

Slipshod: In a word? Don't. Greywash is sentient and hungry and wants to eat you alive. Keep your distance, and whatever you do, do NOT get hit by anything its nanites turn into.

Lockbreaker: Roger that. Engaging the target! Commencing D/D charge sequence!

[transmission picks up Flayer shotgun fire]

Slipshod: Angel! Angel, do you copy? I'm gonna get you outta the line of fire, hang tight!

[transmission picks up the sound of a ramjet firing]

Angel: Something is- something- we- I- whuh? Hello? Is someone there?

Slipshod: Angel! It's Slipshod! Do you copy?

Angel: I - we- no no nO NO NO GET AWAY-!!!

[transmission picks up the sound of stray gunfire]

Slipshod: Shit! Phoenix, hold it together! It's me, Slipshod! You're okay! I'm not going to hurt you.

Angel: [erratic] Something is wrong, something is not right, why are you here, where did it go, why do we know it, why does it know us, where are we, I'm going to die, we're already dead, no, no, please-

Slipshod: Phoenix! Please, calm down, you're okay-

[transmission picks up a concentrated burst of Flayer fire, followed by a low drone that crescendos into an angry buzzing whine]

Lockbreaker: Slipshod! It keeps eating my bullets! I need to charge my D/D to get a clean hit on its hull; can you take over for me?

Slipshod: Phoenix is still out of it; she's having DHIYED flashbacks again. I think the Balor may have triggered something. I'll swap, but for the love of RA, keep her away from it! The fighting's only making it worse.

Lockbreaker: ...roger that. Is she hostile?

Slipshod: No, I don't think so - her weapons systems are still active, but she's too disoriented to aim properly. Just keep close and she won't be able to get a shot on you. Restrain the arms if you gotta. Now go, and watch your four! I'll cover you!

[transmission picks up the sound of a ramjet firing into the near distance, followed by an explosion of Annihilator fire]

Slipshod: Hey, asshole! Come get some! [radio cuts out beneath the sound of blaring warning sirens]

Lockbreaker: Phoenix? Phoenix! It's Kennedi! Are you in there?

Angel: Something is not- something is- hello? Hello? Who's there? Show yourself!

Lockbreaker: Phoenix! It's Kennedi! I'm a friend! You're alright, you're alive, you survived. You're still here.

Angel: We- I- we're alive? I-I'm alive... still alive... Kennedi, why are you here? You have to go, we have to- [radio cuts out]

Lockbreaker: Phoenix, please, you're completely safe. I'm here. We're here. We're alive, we're okay.

Angel: I... we... I'm alive. I'm still here. It's just me, and Kennedi, and we're alive together, and we're safe, and we're okay. I... oh, my head...

Lockbreaker: Phoenix? Are you okay?

Angel: I... I'm fine. I just... ngh... I'll be okay. What's going on? Where are we? Where's Slipshod?

Lockbreaker: Slipshod's busy fighting a Balor. We're still in combat. They got you out, and I swapped out for them to draw fire away from you while you were out. Does that make sense?

Angel: The Balor... yes... oh, shit, wait, the Balor! Slipshod, I copy! I'm back! Where are you?

Slipshod: Phoenix, Kennedi, over here! [radio cuts out as the nanite droning hits fever pitch, then recedes] -therfucker, get back here! Don't you dare lose interest now! HEY! Eyes on me, jackass!

[transmission picks up sounds of gunfire mixed with the sizzle of plasma and whine of nanites]

Angel: I got your six, Slipshod! Keep at it!

Lockbreaker: My D/D is charged and ready to go! Can you get clear, Slipshod?

Slipshod: Yes ma'am! Eat plasma, you sonofa- [radio cuts out beneath the noise of a ramjet firing]

Lockbreaker: Bracing for impact! D/D 288 weapons system is charged and aimed! Clear the area!

Angel: Area secured; you're all clear!

Slipshod: Give 'em hell, galpal!

[transmission picks up nanite droning, interspersed with the mechanical whine of thrusters spinning up and crackling plasma]

Lockbreaker: Opening fire! DEEDEE GET OUT!!!

[transmission cuts off with the sound of thunder, cut with the mechanical screech of nanites]

[END TRANSMISSION]

[flyermagic]

VanillArknights as the Magic card she was destined to be!

Art Source

[ggeneralgrunt]

A GOD-CREATED MAN

”God will send you trials, and they won’t be easy. He’s going to make a man out of you.”

yes, and this man will be one that is a vase hurriedly glued and taped back together after countless times of shattering as a clumsy example of a product made by the desperate and blind thought of “I can try again! It will be okay this time even if in the past it was not!” and he will find that he has been lying to himself.

[withahappyrefrain]

Is it bad I want to give y'all some Jake and Venus angst

[furyisms]

@waywardfeathered asked:

“people think i’m weird.”

Alisa had done as much as she could to ensure her new crew member felt like he was welcome, but it was... a difficult situation. It wasn't that her crew was unwelcoming; it was that adding a new person meant understanding the reality of someone they'd lost in the process. Their last... operation hadn't gone very well, and they'd lost all but their captain in the ground team. Alisa was the only one who walked out alive; she was the only reason the mission succeeded.

"Ah, yeah, that's... not quite what they mean." She could see some of the looks that her crew had been giving him, and weird... wasn't exactly what the issue was. Not exactly, anyway. "It's not that they think you're weird, I mean. They're--used to weird. They're used to their Captain juggling spoons in the mess with her biotics because she's bored." Alisa had a few very clear rules on her ship: biotics were respected, no question. If you couldn't respect biotic talent--human or otherwise--then you were not welcome, and she would see to it that they were redeployed.

A zero-tolerance policy for hate, that was for sure.

Helping herself to a cup of coffee, she poured a second one out for Cas, setting it in front of the cream and sugar for him to make as he pleased. She, of course, added more cream and sugar that many might consider it "You're the new guy to them, that's what it is. It's been... a while since we had anybody rotated or added to the crew. They don't mean any harm by it. We're just--kind of a tight-knit group. Between flying in the first wave at the Battle of the Citadel, being part of the Skyllian Blitz, a lot of us have been through a lot of our careers together." She knew her crew meant no harm by it; they just weren't used to having someone new around.

"Give it time. They'll get used to having you around."

[shrimplicitly]

OUGH. talking about music nostalgia, the music you used to listen to as a young kid, like 6 or 7. pussycats dolls i hate this part is like blasting me back to 2007. i think i used to listen to it on my diskman ALL. the time. im shaking

[hrpphilippines]

Deployment of Filipino Domestic Helpers to Kuwait: Latest Updates

The relationship between the Philippines and Kuwait regarding the deployment of Filipino domestic helpers has been a topic of significant discussion and concern in recent years. With the rising number of abuse cases reported, the Philippine government has taken steps to ensure the safety and well-being of its citizens working abroad, particularly in Kuwait. This article provides an update on the…

[dogmasquerade]

Commander Vincent Morgan & the Falcon rifle. An army veteran turned Ranger, a branch of the armed forces specifically created to protect mankind against supernatural threats, Morgan spends much of his time dealing with the trickery of fae. He's currently stationed in a small Yorkshire town with a surprisingly high rate of fairy attacks.

The rifle is the Falcon, though privately Vincent refers to it as Wraith. A powerful cursed weapon, Wraith has existed for centuries. Originally built for conquest against the Normans by an ally of King Harold, it began life as a longbow forged from a deadly deal made by a mortal man- kill whenever the Falcon asks, in exchange for the power to kill anything- of any world. Fairy and mortal alike cannot withstand the wrath of the Falcon. To fae the weapon does as much damage as it does to man, an impossibility amongst all other manmade weapons. Usually a weapon will only kill one or the other. Never duel-use.

Over the years its form has changed to reflect the best designs of the time. From bow to gun to sleek sniper rifle, each time the weapon is remade its personality changes- born anew, like the rebirth of a phoenix. But the curse stays the same. The gun is inextricably linked to its bearer- neither can live without the other, nor die without the other's consent. What the Falcon wants it must get. It's passed on through blood or by ritual. A bearer who cannot attain the weapon's standard will die by its own bullet. It accepts nothing less than perfection.

[lxvvie]

Simon 'I'm a bloody fuckin' gentleman' Riley

Simon who refuses to let you walk behind him. You're either in front or right beside him and never on the side closest to the street.

Simon who opens your car door and closes it after you get in.

Simon who puts gas in the car and refuses to let you handle it, especially when it's cold.

Simon who will go outside at night if you need to get something before winding down.

Simon who won't let you carry anything heavy even if you can do so.

Simon who won't let you put together or fix anything around the house.

Simon who's your escort around town if need be.

Simon who's the first to whip out his wallet. Complain all you fuckin' want, luv, he takes care of his.

Simon who makes sure everything is taken care of before leaving for deployment.

Simon who makes sure to check in with you every time he can because he knows you worry about him.

Simon who does all that and more because he's a bloody fuckin' gentleman. Your bloody fuckin' gentleman, and he wants your life to be as stress-free and easy as possible.

Simon who hits you with this look when he finds out you paid the tab instead of using the loo like you said you were going to:

[cyborgworldhopper]

Do you have a photo when you were younger?

“Hmm? No. Don’t have any photos really. Only ever had a handful of ID photos taken. Couple of unit pictures. They’re all gone. Loooooong gone.” She shrugged. “Eh, I look about how I looked before my first. So I guess this is good enough.”

[ghostsangel]

your new neighbor has taken a liking to you

simon “ghost” riley x fem!reader

tags/warnings: mdni, infidelity (ghost’s marriage sucks), size kink, breeding , unprotected sex, degradation/dumbification, squirting, corruption kink if you squint

Simon is in a loveless marriage.

It’s sad—he knows that. Ever since he got back from deployment, things with his wife weren’t the same. She would stay at work late, come home smelling of someone else’s cologne, trying to hide her swollen lips.

Military service took a toll on him. The torture, the abuse, the loss of life—sometimes it was too much for him to bear. His wife didn’t understand, and he certainly couldn’t talk to her about it. She was too busy being fucked by other men to speak to him anyway. So, he kept his trauma close to his chest.

Then he met you.

You moved in next to him while he was away. When he left for service, the house was empty—vines withering up the creaky wood, yard overgrown and barren. As soon as he drove into his front yard, he knew that changed.

The house was fixed up, vines trimmed. A new coat of paint covered the old wood and made it look new. A hammock hung between two large trees in the yard. And one other thing was different.

Flowers. They were everywhere in your yard. Rose bushes, lavender, tulips, sunflowers—the yard was a rainbow of color. Simon could smell them from his front yard when he went outside to smoke or to get away from the confines of his house.

It wasn’t until he was smoking one afternoon that he saw you. Fresh-faced and young, gloved hands trimming back your rose bushes. It took him a while to say hi, but he did eventually. You were everything his wife wasn’t—kind, bubbly, thoughtful…innocent.

He found himself in your front yard more than he was at home, offering to help you trim your flowers or plant new ones. He was always filling the heavy watering can and watering for you—“I got all this muscle, sweetheart, let me use it for somethin’.”

Simon wasn’t sure when he began spilling his trauma, but one day, he sat on your couch with a glass of lemonade telling you about the war. The torture, the loss of his military brethren—everything. He told you about his past and his present, about his failing marriage; and most importantly, that he trusted you.

The first intimate actions were small. A brush of a hand, a squeeze of a thigh. Lips brushed against an ear. Small actions that made your tummy clench and his face grow hot. Eventually, it led to something more. Soft kisses on tender lips, hands running over scarred skin and muscle, strong arms wrapped around you.

And tonight, you kissed him with a hunger he couldn’t ignore anymore. Your tongue swiped so slowly along his that his knees buckled and his heart slammed against his chest. His fingers gripped your ass so tightly, you thought it would bruise, but it sent heat to your core all the same.

That’s how you find yourself now—on your back in your bed, sheets sprawled around you and Simon eating you like a man starved. His tongue flicks so deliciously against your clit that it makes your toes curl and your grip tighten in his hair.

“Simon,” you whine, hips bucking as he sucks hard on the sensitive nerves. His response is a grunt, his middle and ring finger gathering your juices and teasing your tight entrance.

Your breath stills when he pushes his two thick fingers inside of your pussy, back arching and hips drawing back.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Simon mutters against your clit, tugging your hips down with his other hand and curling his fingers inside of your wanting cunt.

All you can do is whine as his fingers scissor and stretch your squelching pussy, juices dripping down to your ass. His tongue rubs circles around your clit like he’s painting a fucking picture, and you can’t help but moan out at the pleasure. His fingers hit that spongy spot that sends an electric jolt to your toes, and tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the pleasure.

“S-Simon, I can’t—I’m gonna—” You can’t even finish your sentence, your voice breaking off in a moan as he speeds up.

And then you’re coming, babbling nonsense and his name like a prayer as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. You don’t even comprehend that you squirt all over his hand and mouth, or that he’s rutting his hips against the bed and moaning into your cunt as he tastes you.

Slowly, he withdraws his fingers, his hands running up to your waist. Your eyes flutter open—when did they shut?—and you look up at him staring down at you, his lips curled into a smirk.

“Such a nasty fucking girl,” he murmurs as he leans down, teeth grazing across your neck. “Squirting for me like that. Gonna do that on my cock, too, sweetheart?”

All you can do is moan in response, and Simon chuckles before pulling back and tugging down his boxers. Your eyes widen as you take in his fat cock—thick and veiny and leaking precum. He holds eye contact with you as he moves to hover over you, rubbing his tip along your soaked folds.

You squirm and whine, nails digging into his shoulders. “Don’t think it’s gonna fit.”

Simon grins, positioning his tip against your throbbing hole. “Gonna make it fit.”

Your lips part as he slowly slides his fat cock inside you, stretching you out in such a painfully delicious way that you almost forget to breathe. You can feel every vein in his cock, and Simon lets out a guttural groan when he sheathes himself fully inside you.

“Relax, doll. Squeezing me so fuckin’ tight and I haven’t even moved.” His voice is strained, and he lets out a breath as you try to relax.

His hand moves to your throat, squeezing slightly as he begins to move. Slow at first—painfully slow. You hold eye contact with him as he slowly ruts his hips against yours, his lips parted as breathy groans slip past. When you start to whimper and moan, he speeds up, his pace becoming almost animalistic in nature.

The tip of his fat cock hits a spot that makes you see stars, and you let out a soft cry as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. It feels so good, and you drag your nails down his chest because you don’t know what else to do.

“Fuck, you like that, don’t you?” He asks, grip tight on your throat. “You like my cock stretchin’ you out?”

You can’t even answer him, responding with whines and moans, tears sliding down your cheeks from the pleasure. Simon smirks, fucking you faster, and you cry out.

“Didn’t think I’d fuck you dumb, sweetheart. Can’t help it can you? Cock makin’ you stupid?”

You whine out, hiccuping out a moan as his other hand moves to your clit to rub in precise circles. Your eyes glaze over and you’re gone—submitting completely to him as he fucks you with his fat cock.

Your vision goes white as your orgasm hits you unexpectedly, stealing the breath from your lungs as your legs shake. Simon grunts and groans as you come on his cock, throbbing so tightly around him that you almost force him out. He simply fucks you harder, pressing against your cervix as your juices gush out of your cunt and you whine out, hips jolting.

Simon moves his fingers from your clit to your face, wiping your tears away and leaning down to kiss you. The kiss is hot and surprisingly sweet, and when he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours.

“Good fuckin’ girl. My girl. Gonna fill this sweet pussy up so good, baby,” he whispers against your lips, his arm hooking through your leg to open you up wider. His hips slap against yours, his breathy moans hitting your skin softly.

“Please, Simon,” you breathe out, voice catching as he fucks into you. “Need it. Please.”

That’s all it takes for Simon to crumble, moaning out curses and your name as his cock throbs inside of you. He gives one, two, three more thrusts before he buries his fat cock inside you, tip against your cervix, and you can feel his hot seed pumping inside of you.

He thrusts lazily for a moment before sliding out of you, pulling you to his chest. Your lips meet in a sweet, lazy kiss, and you feel his cum dripping out of you. Simon’s fingers trace down your back, and he looks at you so delicately, he’s afraid you might break. His hand moves to cup your face, thumb brushing right underneath your eyes. Then he utters four words that make your heart stop.

“I’m getting a divorce.”

—————————————

see this one shot’s counterpart here