#it was the 17th mission :’)

[lulu2992]

Me questioning everything after failing repeatedly in HITMAN: Freelancer.

[shysheeperz]

[philhoffman]

MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE III (2006)

[frogeyedape]

Moon madness Thursday: 54th moon landing anniversary

[devils-lawboy]

blue eye samurai is less live action violence to me and way more video game violence

[docgold13]

Profiles in Villainy

Dr. Doofenshmirtz

Doctor Heinz Doofenshmirtz (better known as Dr. Doofenshmirtz, or simply Doofenshmirtz) is an evil scientist hailing from the country of Drusselstein. He is the head of Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated, and he tends not to be evil in the traditional sense, but rather overly dramatic, eccentric and generally clueless. His usual lair is an office building that he apparently owns, though he's worked from other locations when necessary for his plans.

Doofenshmirtz attempts to wreak generally "evil" havoc and assert his rule across the entire Tri-State Area. Despite true dedication to this mission, nearly all of his schemes have been thwarted by his nemesis Perry the Platypus. Doofenshmirtz has become so accustomed to this dynamic that he tends to feel empty or even upset on those few occasions where Perry does not stand in his way.

The cad is voiced by Dan Povenmire and first appeared in the debut episode of Phineas and Ferb, airing on August 17th, 2007. 

[emporium]

🌴 Emporium Summer Sale 🌴

Brick is going on vacation so the shop will be closed from July 10th - July 17th. During his absence the crabs are taking the opportunity to get rid of some slow selling products. It's your last chance to get any of these products before they are gone forever.

Sale is Over. Thanks to Everyone who purchased something.

Products we are saying goodbye to:

Take Me to Your Blorbo Bumper Sticker -> $3.00 $2.00

T Party Bumper Sticker -> $3.00 $2.00

Jumbled Tumblr Tumbler -> $20.00 $18.00

Internet Love Tumbler -> $20.00 $18.00

Autographed Brick Whartley 8×10 Photo -> $5.00 $2.00

Tumblr Mission Statement 11×17 Poster -> $10.00 $8.00

Tumblr Nostalgia 22oz Tumbler -> $25.00 $22.00

Tumblr Museum 11×17 Posters -> $10.00 $8.00

Tumblr Black Sweatpants -> $55.00 $25.00

Tumblworms Pin Set -> $6.00 $3.00

Shipper Society Woven Patch -> $6.00 $3.00

Default Avatar PopGrip -> $10.00 $8.00

Pizza Slice Sweatshirt -> $45.00 $15.00

Glitch Logo Sweatshirt -> $45.00 $15.00

Friendly Alien T-Shirt -> $35.00 $5.00

Pizza Slice T-Shirt -> $35.00 $5.00

[gingiesworld]

Gingie's Kinktoberfest

Hey awesome people, this is my first ever Kinktober event and I hope you all will enjoy what I have in store with a range of characters from Lizzie with appearances of Nat and Maria too. The list and dates they will be released are as below.

1st: MILF Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: It has been a while since Wanda has had an orgasm so she asks her best friend for a helping had.

3rd: Natasha Romanoff x Porn Star Avenger (Amab! R) Summary: Reader is a porn star and Natasha is a secret fan, especially when she learns that the masked crusader on the hub is indeed her fellow Avenger

5th: Therese Raquin x Fem Reader Summary: Therese is unhappily married to Camille and she has always had feelings for reader who was also part owner of the pub. So one night when Therese decides to let loose and have some fun, she finally takes what she wants.

7th: Gerri Fields x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Gerri Fields still goes to college a virgin where she meets an old school friend she used to admire before graduation. The two soon start to date and Gerri asks them to be her first.

9th: Maria Hill x Lower Level Agent Reader(Amab! R) Summary: Maria is on a mission with reader who makes one tiny mistake and she is fast enough to berate them on the way back to headquarters. But Reader stands up for themselves which soon turns into something more ;)

11th: Step sister Wanda x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Wanda visits her step sibling in the city and they offer to take her to a club. The two soon get drunk and Wanda finds herself dancing seductively which doesn't help with the tension that was between them before ;)

13th: Jane Banner x Mob Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Jane Banner was always the one who wore the trousers but that was until she met Y/N. The mob boss who she was trying to take down. Soon finding herself tied to their bed as they used her for their pleasure.

15th: Natasha Romanoff x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Readers favourite place to be is between the Infamous Black Widow's legs. Pleasing her until she squirts.

17th: Step mom Wanda x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Wanda overheard Y/N screaming her name only to walk in on them jerking themselves off to the sinful thoughts of their step mom.

21st: Innocent Wanda x Step Parent GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Wanda comes home after being dumped by her boyfriend since high school in search of comfort. Soon receiving more than she never knew she needed from Reader

23rd: Maria Hill x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: At one of Tony's parties, exes bump into each other and soon fall into old habits.

25th: Assistant Wanda x CEO Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Reader requests a little bit more off of their assistant and she is more than ready to comply as they bend her over the desk.

27th: Bratty Natasha Romanoff x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Natasha decides to be blunt and abrupt with reader who doesn't care for it, especially when she is cocky and disrepectful in front of their friends.

29th: Wanda Maximoff x Stripper Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Wanda hires Reader claiming it is for a Bachelorette party which turns out to be sex party for all of her friends.

31st: WandaNat x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Both Wanda and Nat are persuing reader thinking they are clueless but they are loving the attention a little too much.

18+ MINORS DNI

HAPPY KINKTOBER BUDDIES!!!

[diejager]

what would eldritch reader vs some other eldritch person look like?

[A cheese wheel has been added to your inventory.]

[A cheese wheel has been consumed.]

Opposition Cw: blood, gore, death, cannibalism?, tell me if I missed any.

Despite old-age rivalries and ancient hostilities, to fight a Lord for One’s territory, the bloodshed and animosity shared between many, and the death of a ruling, primordial being, they had forgone the older ways, taken to learn and study humans and monsters alike, especially the sudden emergence of hybrids, a perfect cross between human and monster, one that rivalled the flawlessness of Old Ones. You were one of those that sought change, to live and prosper farther than in their imagination, their faith and their fear. You wanted something substantial, tangible under your clawed, see thing you could taste and touch, more than the pleas and cries.

Most had left their territory, travelling wherever the wind blew, some ventured far and high, drifting from the country they were born to new colonies —the Caribbean or the Thirteen Colonies in the West of the great Monopolies of the 17th centuries. You rarely strayed outside familiar lands, presiding over a small stretch of land in Europe, it was familiar, comfort. It was a decision many agreed with, those you crossed would peer at you, a subtle nod of their head and they’d be gone, vanishing when someone broke your contact; gone along the wind, leaving only a whisper of their existence in monstrous words too high for human and monster ears.

Perhaps that’s why it felt odd to fight another one after centuries of peaceful coexistence, to throw yourself into the fray, broad and towering over the trees, beak snapping at the canidae entity and talons gripping their paws, claws threatening to rip into your feathered body. You felt stretched, rusted with joints creaking and bones groaning, too old and too tired. This Entity was young, a few centuries old, with a wolf-like appearance and a character that fit a mutt more than it would a being of such prestige. They were chaotic, acting recklessly and without thought, you needn’t ask it their age, it was written all over the scarless skin and brutish acts.

Rather than fighting for land, coveting wealth and fine metals that humans loved with greedy hands, you took on the wolf for protection, the ward of your small family, under a dozen with years of bloodshed and violence under their belt. The 141 had a mastery in different skills, utilizing what they did best to push on, to fight and survive to see the next sunrise, but even hybrids had limits, where their great feats and insurmountable reputation were useless against something of old; be it young or primordial, Eldritch beings had little predator, prey to their own kind but rarely from another.

You clashed with the Wolf, standing on muscular, hind legs ruffled with dirtied fur, blood staining the greyish hair; a strong tail swaying carelessly, cutting trees down with a rough swing; a well-defined abdomen painted with a tribal tattoo, gleaming with a gold light, portraying the image of a holy symbole on a blasphemous being; sculpted arms holding back your own feathered ones, hands bleeding from your talons; and a wide mouth, silver teeth bared in a loud growl, the sound near deafening to you. It was strong and well-trained for something born in times of peace, body built to it’s peak and mind sharpened to ignore every distraction, but you were from the old, racking up more experience and wisdom it could only dream of wielding.

You were defending the LZ, standing between the Wolf and it’s mission of killing those it could kill, beings weaker than it. The only thorn in their mission was you, the lone Entity that engaged it. The Wolf hadn’t been told that the TF had an Old One, primeval in every sense. It struggled against you, your more monstrous figure compared to their tamed one, their creation stemming from some wild fantasy of the Middle Ages, when France feared the human eating wolf.

You screeched as loudly as it growled, voice gaining in force, a cacophony of screams and cries slipping from your tongue, the fears and terror of beings that brought you to life. Spreading your second pair of limbs, you slashed at it, digging into the soft skin of it’s abdomen, tearing away fibres of muscle and warm fat. It yowled, struggling to pull away, frantic at your shift of tactic —fearful that you decided to attack than defend your group. It stood on the single probability that you wouldn’t engage, preferring to protect than fight with the risk of endangering your family.

The Wolf would die today. Your grip was unyielding, keeping it in this situation however much it tried to squirm away, hands prisoners of your first pair of wings and chest bleeding from your second. Before long, it would be another body added to your count, cooling and gutted on the forest ground. You swung your tail around them, wrapping once around their slim waist, adding further leverage over it while you dug their intestines out. The strong stench of blood, metallic and tempting, filled the air, bringing fearful tears to the Wolf’s eyes, beady, yellow eyes growing hazy.

You revelled in it’s slow death, your thirst for violence growing with the ages of peace, strung tight like an itch that bothered you incessantly. You hungered, you couldn’t remember the taste of Eldritch meat, the rich ambrosia in the veins or the last whip of their dying breath. Your beak cracked open, white teeth gleaming inside your black mouth until they were dirtied, stained red with the blood of an Entity, you clamped down on it’s neck, breaking the rough skin with enough force to shatter bone, but the Wolf had tough bone. That would only prolong it’s suffering, the pain feeding you as much as the meat and bone would —a delicacy of the ages. You wonder how König and Ghost would think of Eldritch flesh.

You wouldn’t need to eat for another month after this buffet.

Taglist: @warenai @capricorn-anon @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143

[blurredcolour]

IV. “I Trust You Know What You’re Doing?”

"Trust" Series Masterlist

John "Bucky" Egan x WAC!Female Reader

Struggling with the forced separation of your transfer and promotion, it does not take long for you and Bucky to plan a trip to London together. But even while you're on leave, the world around you continues to do its best to tear itself apart.

Warnings: Language, Grief, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes [oral - f receiving, implied virginity loss, protected vaginal sex, condoms, unprotected vaginal sex, multiple orgasms] - 18+ ONLY.

Author’s Note: Welcome to this massive installment. I have no excuses, only apologies. Also I only had the fortitude to proof this once, there may be more errors than normal, but I didn't want to delay it any longer - I will correct things as I find them. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

ETA: The image descriptions for the letters contain the text within to allow for a screen reader or anyone who cannot read cursive. Click the ‘ALT’ button to access.

Word Count: 8497

-------------------------

Wycombe Abbey could not have been more different than Thorpe Abbotts if it had tried.

The private, or in a most confusing twist ‘public’ as the Brits called such institutions, girls’ school had begun its life in the 17th century as a manor house before being transformed into a much grander residence near the end of the 19th century. The school had opened in 1896 with only forty students, but that number had swelled to over two hundred by the time the building was requisitioned for use as the Headquarters of the 8th Air Force.

Stained glass windows, stonework, archways, and wood panelling now replaced squat concrete buildings and rough-and-ready Nissen huts. Though everything was just as drafty, so at least the temperature provided some familiar consistency to your new surroundings. As you descended from your quarters tucked away in some forgotten corner of the attic, down a set of precarious servants’ stairs, you nearly took a wrong turn – again. To your credit you had only been here three days and the maze of corridors and rooms further divided into offices for USAAF purposes was nearly unnavigable.

Chiding yourself softly under your breath that your office was to the right and not the left, as though the sharpness of your tone might really drive it home this time, you quickened your steps still hoping to beat to postal clerk to the outgoing mail box that sat on the corner of your desk. It had been more of a challenge than you were expecting to write the letter clutched in your hand, but the daily meetings that senior operations officers held at 1015, 1600, and 2200 were your responsibility to attend and record via frantically scribbled notes to be typed up in a more professional format later.

These were the meetings at which mission targets for the entire 8th were chosen. The strategic value of various locations was discussed alongside weather reports and aligning with the RAF’s Bomber Command for maximum impact against Nazi Germany. After the first meeting, it would be decided if a mission would even be conducted the following day, and each Division, Wing, and Base involved would be put on alert to allow them time to begin planning the operation. By the time the last meeting ended, the target and approach would be finalized, and the official field orders would be issued.

It made for a remarkably long day, even with breaks for meals, and though you were guaranteed every other Friday off because of this, by the time you crawled into bed near midnight, you only had enough energy to add a few lines onto the letter you had begun to Bucky as soon as you arrived. It made for a rather disjointed and rambling piece of correspondence, in your opinion, but you could not bear to keep him waiting any longer – not wanting him to assume you had forgotten to write and not knowing how long the thing would take to reach him regardless.

Dashing into the office you shared with Myrtle, a very stoic young woman with dark hair and thick eyelashes from Rhode Island, you exhaled in relief to see the post still waiting to be collected and added your letter to the pile. Unlocking your desk drawers, you began setting up for the day, hoping it would reach him quickly.

His reply arrived in your inbox just over two weeks later, near the end of September. Sliding it into your brown leather utility bag, you did your utmost to ignore its very existence throughout the first daily meeting, and your subsequent production of the official report thereof. Taking your lunch break a little earlier than usual paid off in that the line was much shorter at that time. You inhaled the mystery stew and rolls, hardly tasting them, before taking your letter outside to read in the rare afternoon sunshine.

It was short, and it was unspeakably adorable that Bucky did not write in cursive, but there was no lack of his personality in his response. It was as though the very essence of him had been distilled into the ink itself and you could not help the broad grin that bore its way into the muscles of your cheeks, making them ache as you read it.

Glancing quickly at your watch, you realized there was still time to send a reply before the second post pick-up but based on the length of time it had taken for this exchange of letters, it was unlikely another would reach him with enough time to plan for October 8 – your next Friday off. Worrying your lip between your teeth as you considered your options, you landed on a rather devious idea, one that quite honestly would have never come to you if not for the deep need to reach Bucky immediately. Vi had a telephone on her desk in the weather office, a number that you had access to given the strategic importance of weather to the senior operations officers.

Myrtle would be on her break for another fifteen minutes…you had not even realized you had made up your mind before your feet began to carry you back inside, up the stairs into the mercifully still-empty office. Digging out the directory, you found the number for Thorpe Abbotts’ weather office and took a shaky breath as you sank into your chair.

‘Keep it brief, keep it free of classified information. Worst you’ll get is a reprimand.’

The devious, deceptive voice in your mind was a new one, fostered, perhaps, by the rather carefree man you found yourself deeply entangled with, but it was not one you were about to disobey. Lifting the handset of your phone from its cradle, you cleared your throat as the operator answered.

“Norfolk 7315, please.” You tried your best to sound calm and collected as the line clicked and began to ring.

“Phillips.” An unexpected voice answered, and you gulped, knowing Ruth would be less likely to participate in some romantic scheme.

You greeted her in kind, trying to ignore the ache of loneliness as she gasped softly.

“I was hoping you might pass along a message for me?”

“To a certain Major?” You could hear the grin in her voice and felt the pressure on your chest ease.

“Indeed. October 8. I will arrange accommodations.”

“Your line should he need to reach you?”

Hesitating a moment, you ultimately decided to provide it as well, wanting to ensure he could in fact contact you if something came up. Or perhaps any of them could – should the worst happen.

‘Don’t think about that.’ You chastised yourself internally.

“You’re well?” Ruth asked and you smiled softly.

“I am, please tell everyone I miss them terribly.”

“Will do, have to go.”

There was a ‘click’ as she hung up and the line went dead but the lightness in your heart could not be extinguished.

Nine days later you found yourself waiting on the platform at Liverpool Street station awaiting the arrival of Bucky’s train from East Anglia. Given the proximity of High Wycombe to London, you had arrived much earlier that morning and checked into the hotel already, dropping off your small bag and come to wait for his train – well you assumed he’d be on the first train of the day, but as the carriages disgorged a sea of humanity and you had yet to spot him, your brows began to furrow in doubt.

You were about to fish the folded schedule you had picked up from the ticket counter to check the next arrival time when he was suddenly wrapping an arm around you, pulling you tight into his chest as you gasped softly in surprise.

“There you are doll.” Bucky sighed, dropping his bag at your feet to slide the other arm around you as he pulled back to nudge your cap out of the way and deliver a breathtakingly thorough kiss that you were not entirely sure was appropriate for the public setting you were in.

Not that you stopped him, you own arms snaking about his midsection to cling to him tightly.

Pulling back, his eyes raked over your features lovingly as you both inhaled deeply to fill your greedy lungs.

“Well, well 1st Lieutenant.” He smirked proudly as he lifted his hand to stroke the chrome insignia you now wore on your lapels courtesy of your promotion, leaving smudges of his thumb print.

“You are leaving my uniform in disarray, Major.” You chided playfully, unable to hold back you grin, even for a moment, to sell the joke.

His forefinger hooked behind the knot in your tie, tugging it out from beneath your jacket and pulling you closer – eliminating the last few inches of space that remained between your bodies.

“Good.” He rumbled against your lips before kissing you deeply, severely undermining the infrastructure of your knees.

The loud racket of the train cars as they shunted into one another jolted the pair of you apart, making you realize you were among the last few remaining on the platform as the now empty train left the station.

“Let’s get you checked in and your bag dropped off.” You murmured, clearing your throat as you unbuttoned your uniform jacket to straighten and re-secure your tie.

His hand slid into yours as the pair of you made your way out of the station and he happily followed you to a hotel you’d found near his station, knowing that he’d be here longer than you and it would be easier for him to find his way back to base this way. Sitting patiently in the lobby as he checked in and ran his bag up, you smiled as he returned to hold his hands out to you.

“C’mon doll, I have a whole plan.”

Taking his hands, you rose to your feet, raising your eyebrows curiously. “A whole plan?”

He leaned in to murmur against your ear, “you’re not the only one involved in planning you know.”

You pulled back quickly, eyes wide with a touch of panic. You were quite certain you had never told him just what your new position entailed, and there was no way he could simply guess it.

“Easy doll, your phone line.” He winked as he maneuvered your arm through his, turning to lead you out the front door.

Slowly exhaling, it clicked into place. Of course. Just as you were able to find Vi’s desk number in a directory, it seemed Bucky had been doing a little research of his own.

“Well, shhh.” You chastened him firmly, laying a finger over your lips, looking very much like an anti-slander campaign poster.

His hearty laugh in response did little to convince you that he took in the message.

“Now, how do we get to Hyde Park…” He murmured, pulling a crumpled leave guide out of his pocket.

“The underground.” You answered easily, leading him back towards the very station he had arrived at but this time down to the tube station entrance where the pair of you purchased your tickets.

His touch rarely left you – even if he was forced to release your hand, you could feel his palm pressed against your lower back as you made your way through the crowded subterranean space. You were glad to have him with you this time, not particularly a fan of this mode of transportation, but it certainly was an efficient way to get around London. Pressed close together on the train, you took the opportunity to simply gaze at him, basking in his presence after nearly a month apart, not missing the way his mouth ticked up at the corner cockily.

“Missed you too, doll.” He winked and ducked a kiss to your ear before guiding you off the train at your stop – once he had confirmed with you it was indeed your stop.

Blinking your way back into the light of day, you pointed at a directional sign guiding the way to Hyde Park.

“Perfect, now apparently there are…sandwiches!” He crowed and tugged you over to a sandwich truck that seemed quite popular based on the line of waiting patrons.

Your face was starting to hurt, driving home how infrequently you had found the opportunity to smile in his absence, making you squeeze his hand fondly. Bucky looked back to you quickly as he joined the queue.

“You really did plan everything.” You gulped quickly and he beamed proudly.

“Anything for my girl. What kind would you like?” He gestured at the menu written on the side of the truck.

By the time you reached the front of the line, Bucky was able to easily place your order, including two bottles of lemonade, insisting on paying. Opening your utility bag, you carefully packed the lunch away, earning a rather damp and enthusiastic kiss on your cheek as he snatched your hand to continue onto the park.

“May I ask what it is about this park in particular?” You inquired as the pair of you dashed across the road.

“You can ask…” His cheeky reply had you scoffing in return as you entered the canopy of trees, following a path further and further away from the traffic of downtown London.

Plenty of men in uniform seemed to be out, enjoying the nice weather with women on their arms. Women who, unlike you, enjoyed the luxury of being allowed to dress as they chose during their leisure time. It had been one of many reasons that nearly twenty-five percent of women had chosen not to remain enlisted during the transition from the WAAC to the WAC, the army requirement to remain in uniform even when off-duty. In all honesty, you had not really missed your civilian clothes until just then.

Watching the sheer femininity of those women as they swirled about in their colorful fabrics only drove home how drably olive and plainly cut your uniform truly was.

“You’re a million miles away, doll.” Bucky’s voice cut through the dark clouds that had gathered in your mind and you looked to him quickly.

“Sorry Bucky, it’s beautiful here. Like another place entirely.” You offered him a smile but by the way his eyebrow lifted slightly he did not seem to be entirely buying it. “Have the leaves started changing around the base yet?” You tried changing the subject.

He shook his head, releasing your hand to slide his arm around your waist instead, pulling you closer. “Seems everything will happen later here than back home.”

You hummed thoughtfully, glancing ahead and gasping a little at the glimpse of a sizeable body of water that seemed to be filled with rowboats.

“That’s why were here.”

You turned back to him to see a broad grin had overtaken his face and laughed in excitement as it was terribly romantic.

“If I had known, Major Egan, I would have brought my parasol.” You grinned and he snorted, squeezing your hip fondly.

“No need to put on airs, 1st Lieutenant,” he smirked, “the ride will be enjoyable all the same.”

“Bucky!” You hissed sharply, slapping his chest as he laughed deeply, ducking your head slightly as more than a few passersby shot glances your way.

“C’mon doll.” He chuckled and led you over to the booth beside the dock, paying the fee for a thirty-minute rental before the pair of you headed down to climb into one of the waiting row boats.

Setting your heavy bag on the floor, you carefully stepped into the rather unstable watercraft, settling on the passenger’s bench – denoted as such by the ornate ironwork arms. Bucky followed, seated across from you at the oars, his knees nearly brushing against yours, legs too long for so small a boat. Unbuttoning and sliding off his jacket, he tossed it and his cap to you before rolling up his sleeves and began to row the pair of you out onto The Serpentine, you now knew the small lake to be called.

“I trust you know what you’re doing?” You asked as he appeared to easily manage the oars, seeming at ease in the small boat.

“Mostly.” He teased with a wink before laughing at your slightly aghast expression. “Grew up on the shore of Lake Michigan, doll. Boats are like planes to me, easily managed.” He soothed.

It was difficult to decide which view to settle your eyes upon, the verdant green of the still-lush trees, the throng of boats around you, or Bucky working up a remarkably attractive sheen of sweat with his forearms on display as he propelled the rowboat through the water. A feathered fan would have been a very useful tool in that moment, to hide behind or cool yourself down, or perhaps both.

Belatedly, you realized that Bucky had been speaking this whole time – about events back at Thorpe Abbotts. Giving you the update about the people you knew, the trouble Meatball had caused with a farmer down the road, but he trailed off when he realized you were staring once more in dumbfounded silence at him.

“Doll, you’re going to give me a big head if you keep looking at me like that.” He winked as he lifted the oars from the water, letting the water sluice from the blades before tucking them into the boat on either side of you.

“Y…you’re good at that.” You replied lamely and shook your head. “Hungry?” Leaning forward for your bag, which was in all honestly a lot closer to his feet in the floor of the boat, you froze as everything tilted precariously in response to your movements.

Bucky lay a gentle hand on your shoulder to steady you. “Allow me.” Bending down slowly, he scooped up your bag and opened the flap to retrieve your sandwich and lemonade. “It’s sure tight in here, how did you even make this all fit?”

He tugged a little harder on the packet containing your lunch and your eyes widened in horror as, while he was triumphant, he also managed to send the three condoms you had tucked into your bag scattering to the floor of the boat. His eyes followed the distinct, square, paper packets and you could see his throat bob as he swallowed viciously.

“Doll…” His voice came out rough as a gravel road as he slowly raised his eyes to meet yours. “…been doing some planning of your own?”

“‘A WAC is always prepared.’” You quoted in a mortified whisper, struggling against the urge to lunge forward and hide the evidence, knowing it would only send both of you over the side and into the lake.

You watched another swallow ripple down Bucky’s throat before he offered your lunch to you, carefully collecting the offending items and returning them to your bag before he retrieved his own food.

“Would you mind,” He spoke after taking a rather ruthless and oversized bite of his sandwich, words muffled between slices of bread and chicken salad before he swallowed to start over. “Would you mind if, instead of following the rest of my plan, after these thirty minutes are up, I take you back to the hotel?”

Taking a thick swallow of your own, you shook your head slowly as you felt your cheeks heat up at the implications of that invitation. “I would not mind, no.” You clarified breathlessly and he nodded sharply, gesturing for your as-yet-unopened bottle of lemonade.

Handing it back to him, you watched silently as he lined the edge of the cap with the metal plate holding the oarlock in place, popping it off the bottle with one sharp blow of the heel of his palm.

“Thank you.” You murmured quietly as he passed you the opened drink, taking a deep sip as he repeated the process with his own, draining nearly half the bottle in one go.

Tilting your head back to take in the feel of the sun on your face, you slid your cap from your hair, adding it to the pile of his neatly folded items on the bench beside you, continuing to enjoy your picnic on the lake.

“You heard about Dye hitting twenty-five?” He broke the silence, sounding much more like himself again and you nodded quickly.

“Big news, everywhere in the 8th. Lucky crew all heading home – how did Lil take it?” You tilted your head curiously, raising your bottle to your lips, his eyes following the motion closely.

“Hm? Oh, she’ll be alright…they’re both good at letters.” He nodded, leaning back a little.

You knocked your knee against his affectionately. “Don’t sell yourself short you sweet man, I thoroughly enjoyed yours.”

His eyes flicked to yours quickly as a small smile curled his lips. “Yeah?”

You nodded firmly. “Yeah. Promise to give you more to reply to soon, phone was just necessary to make this happen.”

His hand landed on your thigh gently and he squeezed the flesh through your skirt. “Worth it. Just how long are your days though, doll?”

Your fingers played along the empty glass bottle, and you shrugged. “As long as they need to be.” You replied evasively.

“Mm, I’m going to get a better answer out of you than that.” He threatened playfully as he leaned forward to grasp the oar handles, swinging the blades back into the water and taking the pair of you on a loop around the corner of the lake before returning you to the dock.

Bucky climbed out first, taking his cap and jacket before helping you out easily, kissing you firmly as soon as you were on solid ground. “Let’s take a cab…” He breathed impatiently and you laughed, shaking your head.

“The cost would be astronomical, come on.” You affixed your cap on your head as he rolled down his sleeves and slid his jacket back on before the pair of you made your way back to the Underground.

Bucky’s body was practically pressed against yours the entire trip back to Liverpool Street station, seemingly unable to tolerate any form of separation. As you neared the hotel though, you looked to him slowly. “We should go in as colleagues…I booked us that way.”

He looked at you utterly confused, and you swallowed.

“We’re unwed, there was no way I could book us here together, and they will be none to please if they realize I’ve tricked them. I’ll get my key, you get yours, I’ll come to your room…”

He nodded slowly, arm reluctantly unwinding from around your waist before holding the door open for you to step inside.

“Thank you, Major.” You nodded, sliding your cap from your head as you stepped inside, heading to the counter to fetch your room key as he did the same, the pair of you walking up the stairs to the fifth floor together before parting ways so you could fetch your small overnight bag.

It was rather a waste of money, to book a room knowing you would most likely never sleep in it, but such things were necessary for women like you. Women who chose to go to bed with a man they were not married to in the long light of the afternoon. Taking a steadying breath, you left the perfectly made bed behind, walking down the hall to Bucky’s room and knocking on the door softly.

It promptly swung open to reveal a smiling Bucky, his jacket and cap long gone, along with his necktie, the top few buttons of his shirt undone. He stepped back and gestured for you to enter his much larger room with a small brown paper wrapped packet clasped in his hand. Once the door was closed behind you, you let out the laugh you had been holding.

“I did book this under Major John Egan, I suppose they felt the need to give you a nicer room than a Lieutenant.”

He smirked and kissed your cheek, taking your cap and bag from your hand, then pressing the package into it. “Before I forget, again.”

“Bucky you didn’t have to get me anything, you came to see me…”

“Open it.” His eyes danced with anticipation, and you began to pull at the piece of twine holding the package closed, unfolding the utilitarian paper to reveal a brand-new pair of stockings.

You let out an audible gasp as your jaw fairly fell to the floor.

“To replace the pair that got wrecked when you fell.” He smiled, obviously pleased by your reaction.

“How on earth did you…?!” You trailed off, staring up at him in wonderment.

“A man never reveals his secrets, doll.” He grinned and let out a grunt as you launched yourself into his arms, kissing him fiercely at the thoughtfulness of his gift and in recognition of the sheer determination it must have taken to achieve such a feat in rationed England.

His fingers gently plied the items from your grasp, setting them on the bedside table, freeing your hands to latch onto his arms as he cupped your face gently.

“You sure about this, my beautiful girl?” He whispered and your breath hitched in your throat at the tender look on his face just inches from yours.

“Yes.” You nodded quickly, sliding your fingers into his hair to pull his lips back to yours greedily.

A pleased noise rolled from his throat and across your tongue as he coaxed your mouth open, his fingers shifting to make steady work at the buttons on your jacket before he unwound your hands from his dark curls to slide the garment off, tossing it in the general direction of the chair that held his. You could not help the giggle that bubbled up from your chest at that as you moved to undo the buttons of his shirt one by one.

The tug of his teeth on your lower lip quickly transformed your laughter to shuddering breath as you held tightly to the open sides of his shirt, feeling him tug your tie free from your collar before it joined the pile of clothes somewhere on the plush blue carpet of the hotel room floor. Your shirt and skirt were quick to join it, leaving you in your brassiere and slip, garter belt and underwear still hidden from view.

“You have a remarkable number of layers on, doll.” He huffed as his mouth descended along your throat to suck at the crook of your shoulder, installing a dramatic curve in your spine as you arched against him wantonly with a half-swallowed cry of pleasure.

“Y…you have almost as many…” You protested, tugging the ends of his shirt from his trousers before pushing it from his shoulders only to be met with his undershirt.

The sheer broadness of him had never quite been so very apparent and had you licking your lips as you struggled with the last barrier between you and his torso, your ID tags rasping metallically against his.

“Not nearly as complicated though.” He muttered as his fingers worked at the hook and eye closure of your bra until you felt the band go slack and he leaned back to slide the straps down your arms, making you shiver as your breasts were revealed to his hungry gaze.

Bucky’s heavy exhale fluttered against your collarbone, grown cool by the time it traversed the distance between you, and you shuddered slightly, looking to the side shyly. He leaned in to brush his nose against yours tenderly, pecking your lips.

“Whatcha hiding for, gorgeous?” His tone was gentle and had your eyes slowly sliding to meet his, an action he rewarded with a deep kiss.

He continued to distract you with repeated meetings your lips, each time with growing intensity as his palms slid upwards along your sides to cup your breasts. The meeting of flesh had you inhaling sharply through your nose, hands seeking anchor as your fingers twisted into his beltloops where his trousers hung open around his hips – yet again delaying you in your purpose of undressing him. As his thumbs honed in on your sensitive peaks, Bucky elicited all manner of noises from your throat only to eagerly devour them.

“D’ya have any idea how soft you are doll?” He sighed against your lips as he kneaded your tender flesh. “’Cept right here.” He smirked as he tugged at your nipples and you whined his name, pressing impossibly close against him, realizing he was anything but soft.

Your shimmies and writhes against him seemed to serve as a reminder of the greater purpose at hand and Bucky’s fingers ceased their torment, sliding down to your hips to divest you of your slip before beginning to work at your stockings. Toeing off your shoes, you pushed his trousers from his hips, letting gravity do the rest.

“So many hooks and straps and loops…” He muttered as his mouth dipped to the hollow of your throat, though his fingers seemed more than capable of stripping you down to only your underwear.

Seizing your hips, Bucky guided you back onto the bed, and you could not help the sigh at that flew from your mouth at the feel of a real mattress with springs and a duvet, drawing a broad grin across his face as he crawled over you, coaxing you to lay back.

“Precious women like you should always have luxurious beds like these. None of those stinking Army cots…” His hands slid beneath your spine to half guide, half drag you up to rest on the obnoxious mountain of pillows.

Staring up at him in awe, at a complete loss for words, you settled on pressing up onto your elbows to kiss him firmly, hoping to convey your appreciation physically rather than trying to summon speech. As his lips parted from yours to begin sliding down your body, you let out a slight huff of annoyance, earning a chuckle against your collarbone which rumbled through his chest and into your body. He lifted his head slightly as his fingers wove through the ball chain of your ID tags as he seemed to notice them for the first time.

“I always wondered if you ladies had these.”

You bit your lip to smother your grin as he never hesitated to say what was on his mind, a constant stream of commentary on the world around him, and rather than annoying, you found it utterly adorable.

“Are you laughin’ at me, doll?” He smirked and gave a gentle tug, pulling a genuine laugh from you, to which he responded with a brilliant grin. “Alright then, I’ll give you something to laugh about.” He bowed his head to drag the flat of his tongue across your nipple, your resulting whimper bouncing off the walls as he resumed his teasing of your opposite breast.

“B…Bucky…” Your eyes shot wide as his plush lips sealed around that tender peak, applying a positively euphoric suction that had you burying your fingers in his hair and pressing your body closer to his mouth in silent demand.

With careful precision, his knee slid its way between your thighs, applying coaxing pressure to each in turn until you provided enough room for him to settle between them. The feeling of his hard length slotting against your core with only the thin barrier of your underwear separating your intimate flesh had your jaw dropping open in a silent ‘oh’ – a revelation unto itself despite all the experiences you had enjoyed with him thus far. Undulating your hips against his experimentally, you shuddered at the ragged, abbreviated groan he pressed against your sternum, caught in the midst of traversing your chest. Thoroughly encouraged, you repeated the action, savagely gnawing on your lip as he bit off a curse before his mouth reached its destination and laved at your neglected nipple.

Nestling tighter against you, Bucky began to roll his hips against you in earnest, obliterating your ability to think and scheme against him at the blinding pleasure his combined actions induced. You could feel the smug angle of his lips against your abdomen as his mouth was trailing lower on your body, his fingers curling into the waistband of your underwear to peel it from your body. Shifting back to free the interfering item from your legs, he gazed down at you with almost black eyes, his pupils having nearly devoured his irises in his arousal, before stretching forward onto his stomach.

Blinking rapidly, you raised up on your elbows to watch him hoist one of your legs over a strong shoulder and then the other, shuffling embarrassingly close to the apex of your thighs.

“Bucky?” You squeaked hesitantly.

He raised an eyebrow up at you, his pink tongue darting out the wet his lips, nearly matching the flush that had painted its way across his cheeks and down his neck. “Yes, doll?”

“What…” You swallowed thickly as your throat clenched erratically.

“Making good on a promise.” He replied seriously before stretching forward to deliver a thorough kiss to your folds that fairly sucked the air from your lungs, an odd whistling sound echoing through you as you savagely burrowed your fingers into the bedding.

When his tongue narrowed in on that sensitive bundle of nerves, it was your turn to bite off a curse, slumping back onto the pillows as he hummed against you in what was surely mock sympathy as he most certainly did not let up, his efforts only doubling. As your hips began to jerk and writhe, he slung a heavy forearm across your pelvis to pin you in place, only shifting closer and tracing his forefinger around your entrance teasingly. It was all you could do not to kick and wail as you felt yourself becoming embarrassingly slick, the noises he was making growing ever so obscene and filling the hotel room.

“Fuck!” You whined against your palm as his finger finally sunk into your wet heat, its passage remarkably eased by your arousal, hips bucking hard enough to jar his arm slightly.

“Damn you’re delicious, doll.” He growled against you, lips smacking loudly as he began to suck at your pearl, finger working you open enough to add a second before beginning a demanding rhythm.

“Oh…oh...god…” You cried out in agony, too far gone to remember your desire to be quiet, feeling the tension of pending release growing ever closer under his amorous onslaught.

“I know, I know…” He soothed, only quickening his pace, hooking his fingers towards the front of your body, sending your back into a dramatic curve from the mattress, a tortured moan ripping from your throat. “Oh, I have to see that again.” He rasped and sought that precise spot with a ruthless single-minded precision until he was rewarded with not only the same reaction, but your strangled cry as your orgasm slammed into you with breath-taking force.

As you returned to earth from your visit to the celestial plane, the first sensation you became aware of was tender, damp kisses being pressed to your inner thigh as Bucky murmured soft words of encouragement to you.

“There’s my gorgeous girl, holy hell that was incredible, did you enjoy that half as much as I did?”

You managed a wordless noise in the affirmative that summoned him to your side, his lips feathering kisses up your jaw to your ear, the tickle of his moustache making you laugh breathlessly.

“Good?” He murmured and you nodded quickly, turning to look at his still-expectant face.

“Yes.” You cobbled together a verbal response, and he blessed you with a warm smile which you leaned in to press your lips against in gratitude.

“Good.” He swiped his tongue along your lips before suddenly slipping from the bed, making you raise your head in confusion.

Stalking over to find your utility bag amongst the sea of discard items and clothing, he proudly retrieved the three condoms that had announced your hopes and intentions for you by appearing in the rowboat, unceremoniously shucking off his boxers as he made his way back to you. You had held his length before, stroked it to completion, but that paled in comparison to seeing the full expanse of him in the light of day.

“My gorgeous doll, you might not say a lot, but you sure don’t mind looking at what you like.” He smirked unabashedly as he set two of the paper packets on the night table beside you, unwrapping the third to unroll the protective latex onto his cock.

Rather than letting his teasing words dissuade you, though they did cause your teeth to sink into your lower lip, you chose to allow your eyes to linger on his actions, rather fascinated by the whole process. By the male anatomy as well. Task managed, he was climbing over you once more, blocking the golden light of afternoon that was filtering in through the windows with his body, warmth radiating from his skin. He settled easily between your legs once more, still parted from his early activities as you really had not summoned the wherewithal to move yet, and stroked his length through the lingering slick gathered along your folds.

A broken sigh fell from his lips before they clashed with yours, not quite aligned, but the sentiment was still there, body shuddering as you slid your arms around him to cling to his shoulders. It was difficult to tell just whom Bucky was teasing as he continued to rut against you, the tip of his cock brushing against your overly-sensitive bundle of nerves, both of you huffing through your nostrils until at last he began to sink into you.

Tearing your lips from his, you sucked in gasping breaths at the feel of the foreign intrusion, appreciating the fact that his pace seemed to slow in response to that. Appreciating the pause he afforded you when his pelvis slotted snuggly against yours once he was seated fully inside you. Cracking open your clenched eyes, you gulped tightly as they were immediately met by Bucky’s, crowned by a furrowed brow, but flicking over your features studiously as if awaiting your instruction.

“I’m ok.” You breathed and he nodded, immediately seizing your lips in a kiss once more as he rocked forward, earning a ragged moan as your fingertips dug into the skin of his back.

His familiarity with this sort of activity had always been apparent, but was exceptionally obvious now as he slowly began the rhythmic push and pull to drive you both towards climax. The sheer intimacy of it was too much and yet it was not nearly enough, your body craving ever more, ever faster, with increasing desperation. The rare moments that Bucky’s lips were not on yours, they were filling the room with choked-off moans or statements of the filthiest order.

“God doll, you feel so fucking good around me.”

“So tight. I can feel how wet you are too, even with this rubber on.”

“You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t ya? You’re gripping on me like a…fuck I can’t think when you do that…”

His ability to even speak while experiencing such mind-numbing pleasure, rambling though it was, was fairly awe-inspiring. Your responses were limited to moans and whimpers and cries of his name as his supposition was correct – your orgasm was indeed imminent. All it took was the solicitous stroking of his forefinger against the apex of your pleasure to send you flying over the cliff into paradise, clinging to his body as you cried out in ecstasy.

A string of rasped curses mixed in with several sighs of your name heralded his release as Bucky finished not long after, rocking against you sloppily before sinking down onto your chest with a comforting heaviness. Stroking his back tenderly as he nestled into your neck, you grinned stupidly at the ceiling as you felt quite pleased with your choices.

The pair of you made good use of the rest of the condoms you had brought, with a short break for a meal Bucky procured while you took a bath. He returned with a bottle of brandy as well, finding you still in the bathtub. A lot of water ended up on the floor, a pile of water-logged towels your testament to the attempted clean-up. Eating in bed, you shared stories of your childhoods – Bucky’s about growing up on the shores of Lake Michigan, yours of the small two-storey house with its screen door and front porch from which you had watched your brother play with the neighbourhood boys.

You fell asleep in one another’s arms after the final condom was disposed of, the sun long set, but awoke sometime in the night to the unsettling sound of an air raid siren. Not as common in 1943, yet being as close as you were to Canary Wharves, the Luftwaffe still made the occasional bomb run. Startled to find the bed empty, you sat up sharply to see Bucky sitting in front of the window, completely naked, intermittently illuminated by the flashes of distant explosions and anti-aircraft fire.

“Sorry doll, didn’t mean to wake ya.” He muttered and you shook your head, sliding to the end of the bed.

“You ok?” You tilted your head, blinking into a particularly bright flash.

“Hmmm…” He replied noncommittally, turning back to the scene before him with a frown. “I’ve dropped a lot of those. Done a lot of killing.”

Swallowing tightly, you slid to your feet despite the way your heart was pounding in your throat, padding across the carpet towards him.

“Done your job, Bucky. Done what was asked of you.” You assured him, coming to stand behind him, setting your hands on his shoulders.

“If there’s any balance to all this, my ticket was punched a long time ago.” He muttered sullenly and it was your turn to frown.

Bending down to press a kiss to the crown of his head, you stepped in front of him to block his view, perhaps, hopefully, to block his darker thoughts as you shifted to sit on his thighs.

“Whatcha doin’ doll?” He quirked an eyebrow, mouth falling open in a silent moan as your fingers slid between your bodies to gently stroke his length.

“Lightening up.” You replied, invoking the words of your dead brother’s inscription.

It was impossible to think of a more important piece of advice or a more importance source in that moment. A young man who would never get the chance to spend one more time in his lover’s arms, who knew you better than anyone in the entire world. And you were most certainly going to follow it. You had to be up in less than three hours, to catch the first train to High Wycombe, and you would not pass up this moment with Bucky. The future was unknowable, your brother’s death had certainly taught you that.

Bucky’s fingers curled into your hips as his mouth descended onto yours greedily, clearly in agreement with your plan, despite the lack of remaining condoms. Shuffling closer, you guided his now fully hard cock into your body, your soft noises of pleasure colliding with his in the space between your parted lips. Working together, with plenty of guidance from his firm grip, you began to rocking your hips, using his shoulders for leverage. His head fell back to stare up at you in awe, jaw slack, adam’s apple bobbing viciously.

“Christ, I love you…” His face betrayed such vulnerability, lips trembling slightly, that you quickly lifted your hands to cradle his cheeks, even as your lashes grew suddenly damp.

“I love you too, John. So much.” You replied thickly, rather resenting the dramatic wobble in your voice.

The tiniest of smiles pulled at his lips before his face grew serious once more and he lunged forward to kiss you hungrily, hands anchoring your shoulders so he might thrust up into your body with a sudden need. It was all you could do to hang on, though pleasure itself still managed to sweep you away, leaving you only with the vague recognition of him half pulling out mid-release.

It was terribly difficult to leave him in that comfortable, if messy, bed a few hours later. He did not make it easy either, impossible to untangle from your body like an unwieldy piece of seaweed. Yet somehow you managed to make your trains and arrive at your desk at the appointed hour. Focusing on the task at hand with the pleasurable ache between your legs was altogether another challenge, forcing you to sit on first one hip and then the other.

You had just returned after the lunch break when your phone rang, your greeting barely out of your mouth before Bucky’s question came down the line.

“Did you know you know where they played yesterday’s match?” He asked flatly and it took you several seconds to comprehend that he was speaking in code and just what he was getting at.

You swallowed painfully. “Yes, I did sir.”

Of course you did, you were in the room on Thursday night when they had chosen Bremen as the target for yesterday’s mission.

“A lot of our best players struck out, you know. Buck included.”

He sounded utterly unlike himself, cold and distant, not the man you had left just hours ago in that hotel room in London. All the same, your heart broke for him, and for yourself too. You liked Major Cleven – this war was nothing but cruel.

“I’m so sorry B-Major Egan.” You corrected yourself quickly, eyeing Myrtle across the room.

“Well I hope you all pick a better field for tomorrow’s match because I’m pitching.”

You opened your mouth to reply as your heart dropped through the floor, but the sound of the handset slamming into the cradle resounded over the line before it went dead, giving you no opportunity to speak. To wish him luck or, heaven forfend, goodbye. You hung up your phone with a slightly shaking hand as a deep sense of dread threaded its way through your stomach.

-------------------------

Read Part Five - "I Trusted You!"

"Trust" Series Masterlist

Tag list: @gretagerwigsmuse, @precious-little-scoundrel, @rubyfruitjungle, @storysimp, @mads-weasley, @xxanaduwrites, @bcon24, @fxxiva, @slowsweetlove, @hockeyboysarehot, @darylas

[shysheeperz]

[mysticstronomy]

DID MARS EVER CONTAIN WATER??

Blog#428

Saturday, August 17th, 2024.

Welcome back,

While the icy moons of Jupiter and Saturn contain water, Mars remains dry. Despite dozens of space missions, the Red Planet has yet to provide convincing proof that it conceals significant water reserves beneath its surface.

Yet Earth's little cousin hasn't always been so secretive. Various studies have shown that a little over 4 billion years ago, it experienced a "watery" era when lakes, rivers and perhaps even oceans could maintain themselves on its soil. Branching valleys and ancient terrains rich in hydrated clays are evidence of this blissful period of abundance.

Subsequently, the loss of part of the Martian atmosphere led to a reduction in the greenhouse effect followed by a gradual disappearance of water. The question is how long this process lasted and under what conditions. This is what the American Space Agency's (NASA) Curiosity and Perseverance spacecraft have been trying to establish since their arrival in 2012 and 2021 in the Gale and Jezero craters.

"Lakes occupied these depressions 3.5 or 3.6 billion years ago," explained Nicolas Mangold, a director of research at the French National Center for Scientific Research (CNRS) Laboratory of Planetology and Geosciences in Nantes.

By studying the sedimentary and clay deposits left by the former and exploring the ancient river delta that fed the latter, the aim is to determine whether the climate at the time was wet and cold, or dry and hot. The Perseverance rover is also collecting samples, to be brought back to Earth as part of the MSR mission [Mars Sample Return, NASA-European Space Agency (ESA)]. They should provide precise information."

For the moment, things are hazy. If water has flowed on Mars, where has it gone? Was it sucked up into space with the Martian atmosphere or did some of it remain on site, buried underground? Many teams around the world are working to find answers by searching for clues to its presence other than those offered by polar ice caps and glaciers.

As water cannot remain in a liquid state for long on the surface of Mars, these investigations often consist of spotting recent traces of its passage using instruments placed in orbit. This opens the way to all kinds of controversy about how to interpret observations of this world, whose morphology is radically different from that of Earth. "Some of these controversies, such as those concerning gullies – ravines 1 or 2 kilometers long, discovered by the hundreds along certain landforms in the early 2000s – have finally been settled," said Susan Conway, a CNRS researcher at the Laboratory of Planetology and Geosciences in Nantes.

Her team recently demonstrated in the journal Nature Communications that seasonal deposits of dry ice explain the phenomenon, and not water flows.

Other clues continue to fuel debate and even controversy among scientists. The nature of "equatorial dark flows," the background noise of radar signals suggesting the existence of an underground sea beneath the North Cap, the presence of possible channels in the ejecta of impact craters and the hypothetical formation of "rides" in areas of glacial retreat. If water exists on Mars, it is well camouflaged.

Why not deep underground, frozen in the cryosphere? Or preserved in liquid form in aquifers, or inside the thin film of perchlorate brine that supposedly exists at the base of the permafrost that covers Mars at high latitudes? The Marsis and Sharad radars of the Mars Express (ESA) and MRO (NASA) probes have pinpointed promising regions. And when NASA's Phoenix lander dug a few centimeters into the frozen ground just after it arrived in 2008, it immediately uncovered blocks of water ice – a further reason for hypothesis and speculation.

Originally published on https://www.lemonde.fr

COMING UP!!

(Wednesday, August 21st, 2024)

"DID LIFE EXIST ON VENUS??"

[zetsubo-bani]

Black butler timeline

Here's a detailed breakdown of the timeline because why not

Confirmed dates will be marked down in red

Dates that are based on my speculation are marked down in blue

State: pre hiatus

Spoilers for the manga obviously

I will continue updating this one

1819: undertaker quitting

1830: 5th april: claudias birth

1851: 13th june: vincents birth

1858: 24th august: agnis birth

1863: 2nd april: jokers birth

1871: 15th march: snake’s birth, somas birth

1874: lizzys birth

1875: 14th december: the birth of the twins

1885: 14th december: vincent and rachels death, the kidnapping of the twins

1888: ciel getting kidnapped by azzuro

may-august: ciel getting hired for the jack the ripper cases

9th november: the last jack the ripper victims death and madam reds death

14th december: lizzy and francis visit ciel for his birthday

december-january: agni and soma come to england, the curry contest, agni trying to give himself in to the police

1889:

january-february: ciel joining the circus troupe and getting sick

9th february: the death of the circus troupe and baron kelvin

10th of february: ciel visiting the orphanage and ninas visit 

march: the murders at the manor, snake being hired as a servant

17th april: the campania started it’s way to america

19th april: the bizarre dolls run free 

20th april: ryan stokers death and the ship sinking

april-may: ciel joining weston college

3rd June: party before the match

4th June: cricket match and the midnight tea party

5th June: the p4 getting expelled

15th august: ciels trip to germany,

16th august: ciel being bedridden and sebastian serving sieglinde

17th august: sieglinde and the phantomtroupe escaping the forest

19th august: ciel bringing sieglinde and wolfram to england,

august: lizzy’s disappearance, ciel getting hired to investigate the music hall

15th november: agnis death, rciels appearance and ociels arrest order

16th november: ociel arriving in lau’s place 

6th december: the phantomtroupe escaping london 

7th december: mey rin arriving at the manor, bard arriving at the sanatorium, finny and snake arriving at the orphanage 

8th december: ran mao getting the invitation, bard getting caught sneaking out by ada

9th december: snakes death, ran mao disappearance, bard confronting ada and lau, finnys escape from the orphanage with the kids,

10th december: mey rin completing her mission, bard getting injured

[arafilez]

▰▰ ✶ WØRLD EPISØDE FIN: WILL ⪨

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤan ateez series on tumblr. © arafilez

🏹 Spy series. Stand-alone Stories . Ot8 ᶻ z 𐰁

𓂃ㅤ❪ LOADING ❫ㅤ ⌕ ateez have successfully infiltrated themselves in the z-dimension. But within their perfect plans comes distractions that might shake up the members, even if the distraction is a member.

𓂃ㅤ❪ TIMELINE ❫ㅤ ⌕ 04.03.2024 - 04.04.2024

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤᶻ z 𐰁ㅤ SERIES LIST . 🏹

TW: mentions of blood, death, murder, weapon usage etc. proceed with your own caution.

1. CRAZY FORM 𒉽 Kim Hongjoong❛ 𓇿

名ㅤ──ㅤ release date: 4th March, 2024

名ㅤ──ㅤ trope: forbidden love, angst, fluff

名ㅤ──ㅤ synopsis: You know you are trapped, and you are aware you have to get out of this. You can see his hazy hands thrust towards you, trying to help you. Then why can’t you go with him? When you want to.

2. WE KNOW 𒉽 Park Seonghwa❛ 𓇿

名ㅤ──ㅤ release date: 9th March, 2024

名ㅤ──ㅤ trope: friends to lovers, fluff, crack

名ㅤ──ㅤ synopsis: Fighting beside Seonghwa, whether it be practice or in the playing field, has always been your special thing. But when feelings intervene then it might not remain special any more, or will it?

3. EMERGENCY 𒉽 Jeong Yunho❛ 𓇿

名ㅤ──ㅤ release date: 13th March, 2024

名ㅤ──ㅤ trope: brother’s best friend, fluff, smut, MDNI

名ㅤ──ㅤ synopsis: You can hack into anything and everything, except maybe Jeong Yunho’s heart. And sometimes your brother meddles his annoying self too much to “help you.”

4. ARRIBA 𒉽 Kang Yeosang❛ 𓇿

名ㅤ──ㅤ release date: 17th March, 2024

名ㅤ──ㅤ trope: enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, MDNI

名ㅤ──ㅤ synopsis: You were fed up with your mission at this point, he slipped every time for your last three tries. But this time you had it set in mind. Kill Kang Yeosang.

5. CRESCENT PT 2 𒉽 Choi San❛ 𓇿

名ㅤ──ㅤ release date: 20th March, 2024

名ㅤ──ㅤ trope: strangers to lovers, fluff, angst

名ㅤ──ㅤ synopsis: San finds you when you are lost, afraid of everything and confused. How did you end up here? And who is this person offering to help you when you are injured from a fight you were not even a part of? And why should you trust him?

6. SILVER LIGHT 𒉽 Song Mingi❛ 𓇿

名ㅤ──ㅤ release date: 27th March, 2024

名ㅤ──ㅤ trope: childhood friends to lovers, fluff, suggestive

名ㅤ──ㅤ synopsis: Seduce, get the information, and get in the car, run! This has always been the strategy of you and your literal partner in crime Mingi. And everything is perfect today too, well, almost perfect.

7. DREAMY DAY 𒉽 Jung Wooyoung❛ 𓇿

名ㅤ──ㅤ release date: 31st March, 2024

名ㅤ──ㅤ trope: exes to lovers, angst, fluff

名ㅤ──ㅤ synopsis: Wooyoung’s eyes shook, partly in disbelief, partly in emotional turmoil as he saw you through the spy camera. Why were you here? And why are you making him do things he will regret?

8. EVERYTHING 𒉽 Choi Jongho❛ 𓇿

名ㅤ──ㅤ release date: 4th April, 2024

名ㅤ──ㅤ release date: forced proximity, rivals to lovers, fluff, suggestive

名ㅤ──ㅤ synopsis: The last person you wanted to complete the mission with was Choi Jongho. Okay, yes maybe you both are the best at pretending and negotiating with your enemies but between you two, your bickering never ends in negotiation, it instead makes you want to rip his head off.

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[be-relentless]

What We Do In the Shadow’s Vampire Inspires Justice for Palestine Initiative

Dark Greetings!

    Behold, FX’s What We Do in the Shadows fandom fangbangers, friends, and familiars alike have united to support Justice for Palestine in the name of our fictional vampire, Nandor the Relentless.  To support this mission, girl-wives, guy-wives and Steves from six countries have selected a Go Fund Me through Operation Olive Branch with a goal of targeted donations to help families fleeing Palestine.  This inaugural fan-run campaign will be active May 17th-20th.  

In order to participate, post favorite piece of your own work of WWDITS media, your receipt from the donation, and use the #berelentless in addition to the other supportive hashtags for awareness. 

The number one priority is to make donations to help Saja Saqallah and her family. If you cannot participate financially, then you are welcome to share the go fund me link.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-me-and-my-family-to-evacuate-gaza-now

#berelentless #freepalestine #operationolivebranch #nandortherelentless #wwdits

[freedomfireflies]

Destiny

Summary: You’ll lose Harry on August 17th, 2029.

They’ll say it was a freak accident. That nobody could have seen it coming. Nobody could have stopped it.

But you can.

And you will.

Word Count: 1.6k

“I’m not sure. I swear, it was right here on the dresser.”

“I’ll have Anthony check again. We might be able to find a copy somewhere in the office. Or maybe we can find the file through email.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. Let me know. I was really looking forward to it.”

“Will do. Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

Harry nods to his manager, who disappears down the corridor of the arena, before he leans against the wall and hangs his head.

Your heart hammers inside your chest as that familiar ringing returns to your ears. 

There he is.

He’s so close. So fucking close, you can almost smell his vanilla cologne. Can almost feel his soft curls run through your fingers or feel his lips on your neck.

Hear his voice in your ear.

Your body aches to be near him. Every muscle, every nerve-ending, every joint vibrates with the need to be close. To walk over to him, throw your arms around his neck, and bury your face in his chest.

To hold onto him one last time.

But you can’t. You made a deal.

You do this…and you move on.

Harry sighs to himself and looks back up at the ceiling, hands digging into his pockets.

You know what this means. He’s stressed. Aggravated over something he can’t control, and annoyed with himself for being unable to fix it.

In the future, when he'll get frustrated, you’ll press a kiss to his palm, whisper three, “I love you’s,” and count with him to ten.

He’ll remember to breathe, to relax, and to handle the problem one step at a time.

You wish you could do that now.

But this Harry doesn’t know you. He hasn’t met you yet.

He doesn’t love you yet.

And he never will.

You take a deep breath and glance down at the envelope in your pocket that you’d snuck from his dressing room. The same envelope Jeff is currently on a mission to find.

But he won’t find it. There’s no other copy in existence and there won’t be again.

You promised.

If he never goes on that trip to Italy, then he never meets Alexander. And if he never meets Alexander, then he never agrees to the tour around Europe. And if he never agrees to the tour around Europe, then he’ll never be in that car on August 17th at 5:03 P.M. 

He’ll never be flipped over seven times before the vehicle crashes into the wall.

He’ll never attempt to crawl to you and drag you to safety.

He’ll never realize he’s bleeding out faster than either of you can stop it, and he’ll never collapse onto the streets of Barcelona.

You’ll never lose him.

You made a deal that day. Some deity in the universe found you begging anyone that would listen to give you one more chance.

And they decided to give it to you.

They’d let you come back and keep him from finding that envelope. The very envelope that would set everything in motion.

They’d allow you to stop him.

They’d allow you to save his life.

Even if it means he'll never meet you.

Because you and he will bump into each other at a cafe in Paris on March 5th, 2025. He’ll already be waiting there to conduct a meeting with Alexander. The same meeting where they’ll choose the dates for the tour. 

The day they’ll choose to send him to Barcelona.

He’ll notice your dress first and he’ll stop you to tell you that it’s his favorite color. And you’ll blush wildly once you realize who he is and thank him profusely for taking the time to speak with you.

He’ll offer to buy you a croissant and you’ll laugh at his attempt at a French accent. Then you’ll part ways for about half an hour as he and Alexander talk while you return to your chai in the corner of the restaurant.

But he’ll stop by your small table before he leaves. He’ll tell you his name and ask for yours.

You’ll give it to him.

And from that moment on, neither of your lives will ever be the same.

You’d thought long and hard about the decision before agreeing to this second chance. Wondering if there was any other way you could warn him and keep him out of that car without having to lose him completely.

Destiny said no.

As long as your soul is intertwined with his, he will always meet the same fate. 

The only way to save him…is to let him go.

You hear Harry curse to himself as he runs a hand through his hair, tugging on it until he winces. 

The last fragile shard of your heart shatters when you see him drop into a crouch, head cradled in his palms.

“The fuck is wrong with me?” you hear him mumble, the hauntingly familiar question echoing between the empty arena walls until it finds you.

He’s asked himself that at least a hundred times throughout your relationship.

Your answer is always the same:

“Nothing,” you’ll whisper before taking him into your arms. “Nothing, H. You’re perfectly imperfect and I love you.”

He’ll melt in your embrace before allowing himself to sink into your body. “I love you.”

You’d give anything to offer him that comfort now.

Not that he’d know what to do with it.

Suddenly, his head lifts, eyes drifting around the white corridors in thought before they find you.

Your breath catches as you scramble to hide around the corner, pulse racing as you hear him stand, his shoes squeaking along the linoleum floors.

“Hello?”

Your eyes squeeze shut, back pressing into the wall. “Sorry,” you call, silently commanding him not to come over. “Just…looking for the bathroom. My bad.”

But you hear him approach. Hear his feet lead him to you in a way that almost feels…destined.

You’re frozen to your spot, acutely aware of the way you should be heading for the exit. You did what you came to do. He’s safe…and you need him to stay that way.

But you couldn’t resist one final look. One final glimpse of the man that had asked you to marry him only moments before getting into that damned car.

His head peeks out from behind the wall to look for you, brows raising when he sees the way you’re cowering away from him. 

“Are you all right?” he asks, and his voice holds the same compassion he’s demonstrated with you a hundred times before. Despite the fact that he doesn’t know you now…he still cares.

One of the many reasons you fell in love with him. His kindness for everybody.

“Yes, sorry,” you repeat, eyes falling to his shoes. You can’t look at him. “I just…couldn’t find the bathroom.”

“I get it.” He laughs. And the sound makes your stomach rip down the middle. “S’place is huge. You wanna go down this hallway, make a right, follow that hallway…and then it should be on your left.”

You nod without lifting your head. “Thanks. Sorry again for bothering you.”

“No, don’t be,” he insists. “I was just…taking a minute.”

“Yeah,” you reply, and your voice is small. Weighed down by the burden of your grief. “Sometimes we need a minute. Or two.”

“Or twenty,” he adds, chuckling again. “I swear, sometimes I think I have a handle on this shit, and sometimes…it feels like it's completely out of my hands. Like somebody else is pulling the strings and I’m just…along for the ride.”

Your throat constricts as the imminent tears rush to your eyes. “Yeah.”

He pauses and you can feel his eyes on the top of your head. He’s studying you. Your body language, your demeanor, your voice. Looking for something. Looking for what’s wrong.

He did this all the time when you were first dating.

Eventually, he learned to read you like a book.

“Seriously, are you all right?” he asks again, softer this time. Hoping to coax a real answer out of you.

No. No, you’re not all right. How are you supposed to tell him goodbye? How are you supposed to look at the man that asked you to marry him and see that he has no idea who you are?

And that he never will?

How are you supposed to walk through those double doors when you know that the moment you do…you’ll forget. You’ll forget him, you’ll forget your relationship, and you’ll forget the fact that you lost him.

And maybe that’s okay because at least then, you’ll forget that you watched him die. Forget that you watched the life leave his eyes as his hand went limp in yours.

He’d made you promise you’d be okay.

And it was the last thing he ever did.

You don’t know if he’d approve of this. You don’t think he would.

But you’d rather have his life than his love.

You take a deep breath and force your shoulders back. “Yes, sorry. Just taking a minute myself.”

He hums. “Yeah. I get that. Life is…hard.”

“Very,” you whisper before you trail your eyes to his.

He smiles.

And it almost guts you.

“Try…counting to ten,” you say as you take a step back, putting a lifetime of distance between you. “Whenever I’m upset, I just take a deep breath, hold it, and count to ten. And when I’m done…everything doesn’t feel so…loud.”

He seems intrigued by this premise, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smirk as he nods once. “Yeah. I’ll try that.”

You nod yourself and turn on your heel. You don’t want to leave him but you can’t stay.

Destiny is calling you back.

You make it about three steps before a hand snatches onto your wrist and spins you around.

You know this touch. Know what it means, and you can’t force yourself to see him as he steps closer.

“Wait,” he murmurs, and there’s an urgency woven between each syllable that springs the tears to your waterline.

You go still.

"I know you..." he whispers, eyes trailing over the side of your face, "...don't I?"

Even now, the echo of his love calls out for you.

You swallow every truth you wish you could tell him, and slip yourself from his touch for the last time.

“You used to.”

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

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