within a mile

Ok, so, Aliens go to war with Humans

“Captain, your orders are to secure a drop point for the commandant’s frigate, not to critique a superior’s orders, or what seems to you as ‘overkill’, especially given that this mission is following standard deployment procedures. We’ve sent a rather bare-bones entrenchment force in what amounts to a moderately-armed scouting vessel. Hell, the equipment and orders you’ve been given don’t even step within a mile of a war crime. So if you have a problem with this, you can either stuff it and carry out the mission, or get one of your officers, hand them a field promotion, and submit yourself for discipline. This is non-negotiable.”

“I understand, sir. I aplogize. I will go forward with the mission. Captain James Pascoi out.”

The captain calmly closed the comm channel and rose from his chair. He spit as he loped out if his office and into the CIC of the Mississippi Blues.

His aide, Lt. Adama Briggs, came to his side and kept pace with him as they briskly swept toward the bridge.

“Any luck, sir?”

“No joy, Mr. Briggs. I was told that I can either stuff it or get spanked. I guess I’ll stuff it,” the captain huffed as he opened the door.

The sliding doors opened with barely a noise.

“Captain on the bridge!”

“At ease, all officers.” He turned to his ComNet officer. “Commander Idasdottir, how’s Intel on our entry?”

“ISHMAEL came back with negligeble population in our insertion zone. Overall planetary presence minimal. Enemy resistance is expected to be light to moderate.”

“Try nil, they’re years behind us,” said the captain. “Have these little buggers even seen a human in the flesh, much less our phasic weaponry or our Suits?”

“Not to my recollection, captain,” she said, a grin creeping on her face. “But they’ll see it soon enough, I suppose.”

“Captain, .3 lightminutes to target,” said the ensign.

“Bring us out of Q-Space in lunar orbit of Basis 10, then Alcu us in to Basis 6, 50% capacity. Opposite end of the planet from our target.”

“Aye, captain,” he belted. He switched on ShipComm. “All hands, we are exiting q-space in 10 seconds. Brace for exit. I repeat, all hands, brace for exit.”

“5… 4… 3… 2… Exiting q-space fold.”

With a cacophonous trumpeting, as if the captain’s head was swallowed by an angry tuba, the ship lurched hard out of q-space, assaulting the ears of the crew and pulling on everyone’s vision. Basis 10 shot at light speed toward them, dominating what was an empty screen in a measure of a second. The halo of the host star, Basis Alpha, shone through the maelstrom of blue and green, striking it a pale color, fading to almost a mocha color in the high boughs of the clouds. Distant stars began poking their holes of light in the dark backdrop as everything caught up with them.

After the ringing in his ears subsided, he signaled the ensign to fold the nacelles away and engage the Alcubierre drive. In stark contrast to the unholy black maw of Q-space, everything in the system moved smoothly and without tear. The milky blue smudge of Basis 10 pulled away gracefully, the massive gas giant pulling away as they sped towards Basis 6.

“Thirty seconds to Basis 6. Coming out of Alcubierre…” the engineering officer trailed, his hawkish eyes piercing his monitor. “…Now.”

The ship pulled to a sudden, but smooth halt. The glint of Basis Alpha shone off the smooth contour of the Mississippi Blues’ hull, her rounded arrow shape peeling through space and into the dark side of the planet.

“Captain, we are nearing the location in five.”

“Roger that. All hands, to stations. Bring up the phasic emitters and the railguns. Battlesuit crew, man your frames. All ground units, brace for a hot drop.”

The Mississippi Blues plunged into the dawning day-side and sped hard and low, cresting over mountain ranges and slicing through cloud towers. Thunder cracked behind them as they moved 13 times faster than sound.

“1200 kilometers to target,” chirped the navigator.

“Deploy hardpoints,” ordered the captain.

“Aye sir, deploying hardpoints!”

The emitters and railcannons bulged out from the sleek hull, cutting streamers in the chill dawntime air.

“560 kilometers.”

“Slow us down.”

“Decresing speed 25… 50… 75 percent.”

He could feel the ship coming to a slow, but not a full halt.

“10 kilos. Engaging retros.”

The retrograde thrusters roared to life, the vessel lurching ever so slightly. The three-quarter-kilometer-long ship crested over a craggy, moss-covered mountain and laid sights upon the enemy encampment. The gray morning sky blew a fine watery mist on the mossy rocks and grassy knolls of the field, the metal spires and barracks setting a stark contrast to the dark browns and greens of the field.

The belly of the Blues opened, and dropped the eight nimble battlesuits onto the lowland hills, as six dropships shot out of the sides. The Blues herself opened the first salvo of its phasic munitions, slagging a rocky mound and near-vaporizing one of the AA turrets.

The battlesuits, a cadre of eight “Ghost” models, sped out on their quick avian legs, their command module bobbing up and down with each bound. The lance of eight split into two squads, flanking the base from the east and the west. Micromissiles flew out in swarms as their phasers ate nasty holes in enemy tanks, and their railguns clipped the wings off the dropships as they rose from their pads.

The dropships curled around and split up, three dropping to the northwest and the other three dropping to the southern barracks complex. As the hulking birds touched down, their bellies were relieved of the battletanks that were burdening them, and their insides relieved of the 20-or-so infantrymen inside the hull.

“This is SergeantMajor Wilhelm reporting in at the northwest dropsite. All three birds and their payloads made it groundside in one piece, beginning our assault on the command compound,” his comm crackled.

“Roger that, Sergent Major. If the opportunity arises, take their leadership hostage. Do not engage with lethal force unless necessary.”

“Aye, Captain. Wilhelm out.”

“Captain, Tank Lance Sergeant Kanoza reporting, sir. Assault on barracks compound halted. The soldiers are surrendering.”

“They are? This quickly?”

“Seems so, sir. I’m a bit surprised myse–”

The radio cut short. “Lance Sergeant? Lance Sergeant, report!”

“Lance Sergeant Kanoza flatlined sir,” reported the commander. “As well as everyone else in Ahab 6. We lost squads 3 and 7.”

“Was it the soldiers? Suicide bomb–”

“Captain, new contact, 3 klicks north-northwest. Enemy destroyer, elevation 3500 and descending on a 35° entry.”

“They got word out to that destroyer. They’re targeting the tanks. Full power, batteries 4 and 6, open up, bring her down.”

The emitters powered up and barked their glinting beams at the destroyer, piercing her hull and bloating the ship morbidly, before it glowed orange-white and popped like some obscene bubble. A fireball roared out as her reactors went critical, and the shockwave flattened the peak of the mountain just underneath. Twisted, deformed wreckage fell like odd-sized hail.

“Well, damn,” the captain quipped. “Sergeant Major, do me a favor and cut their comms, we don’t need another destroyer or worse showing up.”

“Aye sir. Just after my eyes catch up with me. Wilhelm out.”

“Very good,” the captain replied, as he sat up and walked to the gunner. “Good guns, kid.” The gunnery officer beamed. “Commander Idasdottir, do you have a handle on things? I think I’m gonna get a coffee.”

“Would you get me one, sir?”

“Certainly.”

“Suit Lance, Lieutenant Armstrong reporting. Mighty fine guns, Blues. The airstrips have been reduced to fine ashes.”

“Good job, Lieutenant Armstrong. Move to the secondary position and provide support for the boys at the northwest drop. The South has been handled,” said the Commander.

“Commander, ma'am. Sergeant Hitsuo reporting. All combatants have dropped their weapons. Orders?”

“Oh. All– all of them?”

“Up to and including the officers. The white flag’s been raised, so to say.”

“Take them in, I suppose. Good job today, Sergeant.”

“You mean to tell me that every last of those bugs dropped gun and went belly-up five minutes into deployment?”

“Admiral, I’d be lying if I said I was wholly surprised, but yes. They lost half their men and a destroyer, they rolled over like a dog. We took the survivors and processed them, but kept the superior officers for questioning.”

“Er… very good, Captain. Maybe you were right about this being… overkill.” The captain could hear the Admiral mutter ‘Jesus Christ’… on the other end.

“Next deployment, sir?”

“Well, there might not be one from the sounds of it. We might have won the war in the first five minutes of real fighting.”

“Uh… oh. Well, I’ll be here until you need me, I suppose. Have a nice day, sir. Captain Pascoi out.”

Another submission from the amazing @bartwelchii!
September 15

This one is technically not yet history, because at the time of posting, the little craft has about half an hour left to go.  That said, let’s proceed.

In 2017, NASA’s Cassini space probe ended its twenty-year mission at Saturn.  After a nearly-seven-year-long journey there, it orbited the ringed planet for 13 years and just over two months, gathering copious amounts of information about the planet, said rings, and many of its moons.  It landed an ESA probe called Huygens on Titan, the first-ever soft landing in the outer Solar System.  It discovered lakes, seas, and rivers of methane on Titan, geysers of water erupting from Enceladus (and passed within 50 miles of that moon’s surface), and found gigantic, raging hurricanes at both of Saturn’s poles.  

And the images it returned are beautiful enough to make you weep.

On this day in 2017, with the fuel for Cassini’s directional thrusters running low, the probe was de-orbited into the Saturnian atmosphere to prevent any possibility of any contamination of possible biotic environments on Titan or Enceladus.  The remaining thruster fuel was used to keep the radio dish pointed towards Earth so the probe could transmit information about the upper atmosphere of Saturn while it was burning up due to atmospheric friction.

This is us at our best.  We spent no small amount of money on a nuclear-powered robot, launched it into space, sent it a billion miles away, and worked with it for two decades just to learn about another planet.  And when the repeatedly-extended missions were through, we made the little craft sacrifice itself like a samurai, performing its duty as long as it could while it became a shooting star in the Saturnian sky.

Rhea occulting Saturn

Water geysers on Enceladus

Strange Iapetus

Look at this gorgeousness

A gigantic motherfucking storm in Saturn’s northern hemisphere

Tethys

This image is from the surface of a moon of a planet at least 746 million miles away.  Sweet lord

Mimas

Vertical structures in the rings.  Holy shit

Titan and Dione occulting Saturn, rings visible

Little Daphnis making gravitational ripples in the rings

That’s here.  That’s home.  That’s all of us that ever lived.

Saturn, backlit

A polar vortex on the gas giant

Icy Enceladus

(All images from NASA/JPL)

8

Meanwhile, Oikawa is sulking hiding behind a rock.

Planets: As Seen by Voyager

The Voyager 1 and 2 spacecraft explored Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune before starting their journey toward interstellar space. Here you’ll find some of those images, including “The Pale Blue Dot” – famously described by Carl Sagan – and what are still the only up-close images of Uranus and Neptune.

These twin spacecraft took some of the very first close-up images of these planets and paved the way for future planetary missions to return, like the Juno spacecraft at Jupiter, Cassini at Saturn and New Horizons at Pluto.

Jupiter

Photography of Jupiter began in January 1979, when images of the brightly banded planet already exceeded the best taken from Earth. They took more than 33,000 pictures of Jupiter and its five major satellites. 

Findings:

  • Erupting volcanoes on Jupiter’s moon Io, which has 100 times the volcanic activity of Earth. 
  • Better understanding of important physical, geological, and atmospheric processes happening in the planet, its satellites and magnetosphere.
  • Jupiter’s turbulent atmosphere with dozens of interacting hurricane-like storm systems.

Saturn

The Saturn encounters occurred nine months apart, in November 1980 and August 1981. The two encounters increased our knowledge and altered our understanding of Saturn. The extended, close-range observations provided high-resolution data far different from the picture assembled during centuries of Earth-based studies.

Findings:

  • Saturn’s atmosphere is almost entirely hydrogen and helium.
  • Subdued contrasts and color differences on Saturn could be a result of more horizontal mixing or less production of localized colors than in Jupiter’s atmosphere.
  • An indication of an ocean beneath the cracked, icy crust of Jupiter’s moon Europa. 
  • Winds blow at high speeds in Saturn. Near the equator, the Voyagers measured winds about 1,100 miles an hour.

Uranus

The Voyager 2 spacecraft flew closely past distant Uranus, the seventh planet from the Sun. At its closest, the spacecraft came within 50,600 miles of Uranus’s cloud tops on Jan. 24, 1986. Voyager 2 radioed thousands of images and voluminous amounts of other scientific data on the planet, its moons, rings, atmosphere, interior and the magnetic environment surrounding Uranus.

Findings:

  • Revealed complex surfaces indicative of varying geologic pasts.
  • Detected 11 previously unseen moons.
  • Uncovered the fine detail of the previously known rings and two newly detected rings.
  • Showed that the planet’s rate of rotation is 17 hours, 14 minutes.
  • Found that the planet’s magnetic field is both large and unusual.
  • Determined that the temperature of the equatorial region, which receives less sunlight over a Uranian year, is nevertheless about the same as that at the poles.

Neptune

Voyager 2 became the first spacecraft to observe the planet Neptune in the summer of 1989. Passing about 3,000 miles above Neptune’s north pole, Voyager 2 made its closest approach to any planet since leaving Earth 12 years ago. Five hours later, Voyager 2 passed about 25,000 miles from Neptune’s largest moon, Triton, the last solid body the spacecraft had the opportunity to study.

Findings: 

  • Discovered Neptune’s Great Dark Spot
  • Found that the planet has strong winds, around 1,000 miles per hour
  • Saw geysers erupting from the polar cap on Neptune’s moon Triton at -390 degrees Fahrenheit

Solar System Portrait

This narrow-angle color image of the Earth, dubbed ‘Pale Blue Dot’, is a part of the first ever ‘portrait’ of the solar system taken by Voyager 1. 

The spacecraft acquired a total of 60 frames for a mosaic of the solar system from a distance of more than 4 billion miles from Earth and about 32 degrees above the ecliptic.

From Voyager’s great distance, Earth is a mere point of light, less than the size of a picture element even in the narrow-angle camera.

“Look again at that dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives.” - Carl Sagan

Both spacecraft will continue to study ultraviolet sources among the stars, and their fields and particles detectors will continue to search for the boundary between the Sun’s influence and interstellar space. The radioisotope power systems will likely provide enough power for science to continue through 2025, and possibly support engineering data return through the mid-2030s. After that, the two Voyagers will continue to orbit the center of the Milky Way.

Learn more about the Voyager spacecraft HERE.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space: http://nasa.tumblr.com.

What if the Prisoner of Azkaban had been a different marauder?

When James and Lily go in to hiding, Sirius is the obvious choice for secret keeper. “Now is not the time for obvious choices,” Albus Dumbledore says. There are rumours of a spy within the Order, and Sirius Black has been disappearing for weeks at a time. “Mister Lupin will be your secret keeper.” Sirius hurls a glass of firewhiskey at the wall, and the last words he speaks to James Potter are screamed at him in between sobs.

The following evening, the last before Halloween, James finds Remus broken and bloodied on his doorstep, ambushed by a pack of werewolves who had heard whispers from an unknown source. It is then Remus knows Sirius Black is truly lost. James heals his friend’s broken ribs and sends a message to Peter, despite Remus’ protests.

The secret keeper is switched, and Lily and James perish the following night.

Blinded by grief, Remus tracks down Peter - the identity of the spy now painfully clear. But his injuries make him slow and Peter blows up a street full of people, not before informing them all of Remus Lupins’ betrayal.

When his ears stop ringing and his vision clears, Remus is in handcuffs.

Afterwards, Sirius stands as a broken man, barely upright in Albus Dumbledore’s office. “It should have been me,” he spits. “Why didn’t you chose me?” Dumbledore reluctantly explains his suspicions and is furiously informed of a private alliance between Sirius and his brother, a secret partnership formed in the shadows of the war, and understands the reason behind Sirius’ mysterious disappearances. It doesn’t matter now. Sirius lost both of his brothers on the night of Halloween, 1981.

“Harry will live with his aunt and uncle,” Dumbledore explains. Sirius tells him to do something unrepeatable with his wand, and slams the door on the way out.

Twelve years later, Sirius stands in the same office once again. Harry has had two near-misses with Voldemort in the last two years, and with news of Remus Lupin’s escape from Azkaban, Sirius isn’t about to risk a third. He volunteers to fill the position of the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, to keep an eye on Harry. 

And ensure his old best friend can’t come within a hundred miles of him.

Let Me Show You

Author’s Note: I don’t where this came from but I’ve had this scenario in my head for days and I just had to write it. Sorry if there are any typos. I just wrote this on my phone in fit of passion. Also, I just started watching Hemlock grove so idk if I captured Roman’s character as well as I wanted, but oh well. Forgive me.

Rating: mature

Warnings: smut for smut’s sake



You were frustrated. You weren’t even convinced the word “frustrated” really encompassed the rage you felt towards yourself at this particular moment. It’s been awhile since your hands were able to get you off the way they used to. Recently, every time you were in the mood and you let your fingers slip down to your most sensitive spots, you would end up completely unsatisfied. No amount of flicks, tugs, or circular motions were enough to get you to the peek that you were desperately aching for. So it’s not even a surprise that you find yourself, once again, on your back and on the verge of tears.

It was a warm Saturday afternoon and you had the house completely to yourself. You thought that today would finally be the day you could reach that sweet high you’ve been craving. There was nothing pressing on your mind, no distractions, but after two hours of scrolling through endless porn videos and conjuring up every fantasy you ever had, it was still utterly pointless. So as you lay completely bare on your bed, throwing a tantrum, you were suddenly jolted from your thoughts by the doorbell. So with a huff, you pull yourself together enough to drag yourself to your front door.

And there he was.

The human embodiment of the sexual frustrations that have been pent up inside you in the form of a 6’4 man with the face sculpted by the gods themselves.

“What do you want Roman?” You say completely irritated. He was the absolute last person you wanted to see right now, especially now that the unstoppable throbbing between your legs somehow intensified even more since you left your room.

“Well, someone’s clearly happy to see me.” Roman teased, the corner of his full lips tugged into the infamous smirk that made every female within a ten-mile radius swoon. He pushed past you, and into your living room. The smell of his expensive designer cologne filled your lungs causing your eyes to drop for a second before looking back at him. He was completely unaware of the effect he had on you, but he could tell there was something off about you. Your breathing was heavier than usual and you were wearing a silk robe in the middle of the afternoon.

“So, what were you up to before I got here?” Roman asked as he circled mindlessly around the couch. Any other time you would be completely thrilled that he had come to you to spend his free time. But today was not one of those days. “Look Roman if you just want to shoot the shit, we do that another time. I’m busy,” you said bluntly. Roman spun around on his heels. He wasn’t used to you acting so unwelcoming, usually, you were the first person he could go to if he just needed someone to listen to him. He stepped up to you, so close his chest was almost next to yours. He took one of his long fingers and grazed it gracefully across your cheek. His big green eyes looking down at you, as if he’s never truly looked at you before.

“You know you can tell me anything. I’ve trusted you with more than anyone should. Let me be here for you.” He whispered quietly. You never felt so embarrassed in your whole life. Roman was here for you, willing to be your confidant, and the only reason you kept barking at him was because you couldn’t get yourself off.

“Roman, please. I can’t talk to you about this” you told him, backing away from him. However, he was able to grab onto your arm and bring you back into his space. Once again locking eyes. “I said anything,” he repeated slowly. Not being able to handle the intensity of his gaze, you looked down and whispered something he wasn’t able to catch. He leaned down, his ear now closer to your lips. “Come again?”

“God Damn it, Roman! I can’t get myself off, ok!” You yell at him. He shakes his head and you notice that he’s chuckling. “Are you laughing at me? See this is why I shouldn’t tell you shit. Everything’s a joke to yo-“ you were cut off by a swift movement. Before you were able to follow him, Roman has your back pushed against his chest and he begins kissing your temple. “Let me show you” he whispered. “I can help.” He pushed your hair away from your neck, tracing the length of it with his fingers. “Please?” He begged. Having little self-restraint, and feeling tired of losing the endless battle with your body, you willingly accept his offers.

He takes your hand and leads you to your bedroom. Once there he kisses your hand before promising to return. You start pacing as you wait, wondering if this was a terrible idea and if an orgasm was really worth sacrificing your friendship over. But when he comes back to your room, carrying the full-length mirror from the bathroom, you were intrigued. He gently places it in front of your bed.

“Come here,” he says softly. You did as he asks and drags his hand from your collarbone and up your neck, forcing you to look up at him. He captures your lips in a kiss. His lips were so warm and soft that you could feel yourself melting in his arms. You feel his other hand move down to the tie of your robe, undoing it swiftly, and letting the silky black material fall off your body. He breaks the kiss the look down at you before looking back up at you through his thick lashes.

“A body like yours should never go unsatisfied.” His compliment made your heart race and you were more eager than ever to get his hands on you. You wasted no time pushing off his blazer and untucking his white v neck from his slacks. You loved the way he dressed. He was the perfect combination of sexy, classy and dangerous. But as of right now, all you wanted was to see these designer clothes littered across your hardwood floors. Once he was completely bare, he took the time to take off his newest watch, an investment you couldn’t even imagine making.

“Don’t want to get this wet.” He explained, placing the piece with his ring on the dresser. Then turned back to face her. And you couldn’t help but moan out loud at the sight. He was flawless. Every part of him was better than the fantasies you created in your head. “I want you, Roman. God, I want you.” You confessed. You started kissing down the smooth planes of his chest, lowering yourself with every peck. But before you could reach the place you wanted to go the most, Roman stopped you.

“I’m here for you.” He reminded you. Taking your hand and led you down to the floor. He moved your bodies so that his back was against the end of the bed, and your back was placed against his chest. He shifted beneath you slipping his long legs beneath yours and opened your legs. Looking into the mirror in front of you, you were displayed perfectly for him.

“I want you to watch me. You need to learn how to take care of this pretty little pussy of yours” he whispered into your ears. His fingers traced the outline of your lips and you let the long digits slipped through. “There’s a good girl.” He removed his fingers and brought them down your nipple. Circling around it so lightly, it almost tickled before roughly pulling on it, cause you to let out a gasp. He smiled at you through the reflection before continuing his ministrations. He lazily moved downwards until he got to where you really needed him. You were rolling your hips against him, not being able to sit still with his teasing. His fingers dragged slowly up from your wet opening to your clit. Then he starts circling around it at a slow and rhythmic pace.

“You like that?” He asked. He got his answer in the form of a soft moan. You reached behind you so you can grab his chocolate locks. Roman start nipping at your neck, finding the sensitive spot beneath your ear quite easily. He slid his other hand away from your nipple and down to your opening. Slipping two of his long and skillful fingers inside you. You had heard the rumors of the magical Roman fingers. But when he curved them to hit your spot so perfectly you almost screamed, you realized they were true.

“Look at yourself. You needed this didn’t you? You’re soaked.” You looked at yourself and you got the first glimpse of what he was capable of. Your whole body was on fire and your heaving chest and erect nipples were showing it. “I’m so close Roman. Please don’t stop.” You begged, grinding yourself harder against his length and his fingers. His legs kept you opened for him as both his hands worked tirelessly to get you off.

“Come on baby. Let it go for me, I know you can.” He encouraged. You reached the hand that wasn’t pulling at his hair to squeeze your own nipple. And with a few more seconds of stimulation your back arched away from his chest as your realase finally came. “Roman!” you screamed in ecstasy. Your orgasm hit you so hard that your whole body started convulsing. Roman’s hand slipped out of you and held you to his chest as his fingers kept circling around your clit, helping your release last as long as possible.

When your body finally stopped shaking, you slumped against his chest. You were completely spent. All those weeks of pent frustrations were finally gone and you never felt more relaxed. You turned back to look at Roman, his beautiful green eyes were completely blown.

“Do you want me to…” you trailed off. He shook his head and embarrassingly looked down at himself. “I already did.” You turned around to see he was right. The evidence was coated aross his chest and your back. You giggled a little. “The great sex god, Roman Godfrey, just came from having a girl grind on him?” You said teasingly. He lifted himself off the floor, shaking his head defensively. “You don’t get it. Watching a girl cum for you is just as sexy as getting blown. Especially if the girl is as gorgeous as you are.”

You made your way to your bed and by the time you got comfortable, Roman was back with a warm towel. Once you two were cleaned up, you guys made yourself comfortable on the bed. And with your head on chest and his hands in your hair, you let a “thank you” slip from your lips. You were so tired, you’re sure you imagined him saying “I’d do anything for you”.

The venomous jealously White Women express when a Black Woman gets called “beautiful” in front of them.. or hell any type compliment ESPECIALLY from a man is disheartening and pathetic to say the least.

rachaelmhill  asked:

Buck, I've been feeling like my head's splitting open on-and-off since Tuesday, and now I'm getting other symptoms too. Please distract me with embarrassing stories about Steve? i love those.

when steve was twelve, he broke his arm.

surprisingly, it wasn’t in a fight–he was carrying a twenty-pound bag of potatoes up the stairs for his ma and he tripped. went down the whole flight, potatoes bouncing everywhere. after he’d recovered a bit from the tumble, he sat up, looked at old mrs. mackinnon– who was just coming out of her apartment–and said “sorry for the mess.” and then he looked down and noticed that his forearm was bent in the middle. and then he started crying.

so his ma ran him to the hospital and they set his arm and put it in a cast.

and thus began the first era of the Unstoppable Steve. (the second era was after erskine made a limited edition Jumbo Steve, and the third was Steve: Reheated.)

see, if you’ve ever had a plaster cast, you know that those things are shockingly sturdy. steve went from being a sixty pound asthmatic with rage issues to being a sixty pound asthmatic with rage issues and a right hook like a piledriver. at first, his arm was too tender for him to do much, but after it started healing up, and he started getting in fights again, he figured out that his right arm was better than a baseball bat when it came to hitting stuff. that plaster cast started white, but it didn’t take long for it to get brownish with dirt and bloodstains. he still got his ass kicked, but it took a bit more work, and the other guys actually looked like they’d been in a fight.

anyway, steve was half in love with that cast.  sometimes i thought he never wanted to take if off, and if it hadn’t messed with his drawing, i think he’d’ve worn it for about a year. but about a week before it was supposed to be taken off anyway, stevie got in a fight with gerry, the shoemaker’s kid from up the block. gerry was a mean sonofagun. he was thirteen, and he’d hit puberty early, so he had a solid eight inches on wee stevie. and he was as dumb as a box of bricks.

he hated steve. steve was tiny, sure, but he was sharp as a tack and well-liked. there wasn’t an old lady within miles that didn’t love stevie, so he was always getting penny candy for running errands for them. gerry had a habit of cornering stevie in alleyways and beating on him until candy fell out. steve had a habit of not letting him do it without a fight.

gerry cornered stevie and started shoving at him. steve shoved back. gerry shoved harder. stevie stumbled, and gerry threw a punch. stevie took it full in the face, and then swung back, full-force, with that sledgehammer cast of his.

gerry dodged.

steve plowed his cast into the old brick alley wall. the brick shattered.

stevie’s cast broke. so did two of stevie’s fingers.

steve started screaming.  

gerry ran.

now, understand–it was old, old brick, but all gerry saw was little crazy stevie rogers punch a hole in a brick wall and then start shrieking like a berserker. rat-brain gerry wasn’t bright, but he knew a losing battle when he saw one, so he ran like the hulk himself had just showed up in that alley. smartest thing he could’ve done, really, because i’d just shown up and if he’d kept after stevie, i’d’ve handed him his ass.

as it was, i pried stevie’s cast off and walked him back to the hospital. the doctors said his arm was plenty healed and didn’t need a new cast, and splinted up his fingers.

steve didn’t like the splints nearly as much as he’d liked the cast. they made absolutely terrible weapons.

This–and the two previous storytime asks–can be found with corrected type here on Ao3. –Mod Hell

Critical Analysis on Cowboys

What you guys don’t understand about cowboys is that the lifestyle is a lot harder than you might think. This post is to show you some of the ins and outs of cowboy lore. 

For example:

  • Cowboys can only mate with females within 1836 miles (the year of the Alamo) 
  • Not only that, but they can only conceive at high noon 
  • Some cowboys can mate in a process known as ‘pistols at dawn’, but only if they are gay
  • Cowboys who are not gay must pay dearly for lassos. Up to 40% of cowboy income can go towards this
  • Cowboys MUST mate in the direction of Texas
  • If two cowboys mate in Texas, they oscillate at high speeds similar to the way a compass needle spins when a magnet is nearby. Some cowboys can get whiplash from this 
  • Mechanical bulls were invented to acclimate cowboys who are planning to move to Texas to the sheer force involved in the intercourse there
  • DON’T yeehaw. If you yeehaw, cowboys nearby will assume you are looking to mate. They may attempt a mating dance (known as ‘moseying on over’). It is not particularly intrusive unless you are heavily affected by cigar smoke 
  • If you MUST yeehaw, stay far away from the town saloon. That’s where cowboys are made.
  • Speaking of cigars, they are a symbol of respect among cowboy elders. Be careful smoking one around areas known to be populated with cowboys. 
  • A cowboy’s life is a lonely one. When a cowboy reaches adulthood, he or she must migrate elsewhere to live a mostly solitary life, as cowboys are highly territorial. A confrontation of this type is known in cowboy rituals as ‘This Town Ain’t Big Enough for the Two of Us’. 
  • A cowboy riding a horse is NOT better or worse than a cowboy without a horse. I am so sick and tired of people acting like cowboys without horses aren’t valid. 
  • McCree is NOT a cowboy, he is a vaquero. The difference is minor but significant. Don’t mix them up. 
  • For more information, or if you want a true ‘cowboy experience’, cowboys are generally peaceful during square dances, hoedowns, or poker games. Careful approaching one on the pasture or in the valley, it might be mating season.

Thank you for reading, and as always, may you saddle up with good fortune, and may no man ever touch your hat. 

so I just got this text from a friend of mine who lives in japan…[prayer request]

“things are pretty crazy over here with North Korea…I’m not sure if you heard about it but last week they launched a missile that went over land and then into the ocean, but we got an emergency warning from the government telling us to get to a bomb shelter. That happened because it first went over land.

Now, this Saturday is one of the two biggest holidays in North Korea. (1. Is the birth of one of the emperors) and 2. Is the 80 year celebration of government and experts are predicting that NK, to demonstrate their power, is going to do something on that Saturday.

They have been deploying missiles onto ships and taking them to the coast (they were only doing it at night to avoid detection, but that didn’t work out, did it?) and we believe one of two things will happen soon (or on Saturday).

1. They’ll EMP over Japan and every electronic will be fried, which means for a long time I won’t have any way to contact you or anyone…

2. They’ll test more missiles or this time fire them at Tokyo. If that’s the case, we won’t be affected by the blast. Anyone that is within a 45 mile radius of the sight will get first - third degree burns. We live 60 miles away so we have radiation fallout. We’re buying some emergency supplies–water, food, etc.,–enough to last us two weeks. Because until that time, we have to stay inside or our chances of dying are significant.

It’s all scary over here and I’m not sure what will happen Saturday…

So thank you for your prayers. I’m not sure what’s going to happen but I know God is in control.”

so if you guys could reblog this and just keep Japan in your prayers, it would mean a lot. thank you in advance 🙏